Everything I Tell you is Hearsay

New Favorite

I didn’t write this song, but I could have…

Hilariously, my favorite song is called “Favorite” and at least right this second, this one is giving it a run for my money..

i like jerks.

i do. i always have. it might be in part because i kinda am one. at least, i’m not “nice” in any conventional sense of the word. i mean, i wont usually go out of my way to be mean for no reason, but neither will i make much of an effort to be friendly or anything.

anyway, most of the guys i find myself attracted to are jerks. they’re self-centered pricks who think the world of themselves, and not much of me. it’s sort of a classic insecure girl thing. i have an excellent track record. it’s not perfect, but it’s damn close.

this has been true not only in my real life, but in my fantasy life of TV dating. much to the dismay of everyone who lives in my house, my favorite example of made-up manhood used to be Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl. he’s conceited, vain, ego-centric, and beautifully dressed. yum!

nice scarf dude!

however. he has yet to master all the skills and talents concomitant to his type. sure, he’s greedy and capricious, reprobate and occasionally vicious, but truthfully, chuck is also just a boy. he often lacks the courage of his cruelty. he hasn’t grown into an unshakable sense of himself yet and thus does not always act the consummate asshole. no, indeed we can frequently see glimpses of his vulnerabililty and lack of self-confidence. it’s something that may come with age, but for now i can say, i have found it somewhere else.

meet Ari Gold: Dickhead Exrtaordinare

come on baby, yell at me some more...

i spent all weekend watching 6 seasons of Entourage. so i’ve had some time to think about what it is that makes this character, to my mind, the archetype of the perfect man.*

He is a Chauvinist:

i mean this in the literal definitive sense:

–noun

this man always thinks he is right. and that is hot. he will pursue his conviction til and past the bitter end. he will run, jump, scream, wheedle, or pay to make his point and achieve his end. in a world where situational ethics are the rule, this man has a profound and durable sense of right and wrong. it may not align perfectly with the larger social paradigm but it is consistent to itself and he is unfailingly committed to it.

He Demands Obedience But Is Willing To Pay For The Privilege

this man dominates whatever situation he comes into. with the strength of his personality he achieves his ends by browbeating most of the people in his vicinity into submission. but though he can be demanding to the point of oppression, he also provides everything, unto excess, that these people could possibly want. his family, protege, and clients all benefit from his inexorable determination to do his best for them.

He is Not A Man You Want To Fuck With

he feels betrayal powerfully, and becomes vindictive when he is crossed, and due to his steadfast sense of right and wrong, you do not want to be the one to do it.

my very favorite scene** in the entire series comes when Ari is feuding with some upstart dickbag agent who thinks he can behave like a genuine rival for Ari’s position. they race in their fancy little cars, they exchange human feces, and then finally the gloves (and all else besides) come off; the dickbag posts nude photos of Ari’s wife (taken before she was Ari’s wife) and that is when the shit goes down.

Ari races across to the agency where dickbag works and proceeds to call him out of his office to demand an apology. when dickbag hesitates Ari SLAPS HIM LIKE THE BITCH HE IS and threatens to beat the living crap out of him if he fails to say he is sorry. because sending naked pictures of some bitch you both screwed is one thing, but this is his wife and the mother of his children and that is a line you simply do. not. cross. fuck. no.

He Is A Fucking Pig Who Takes His Vows Seriously

he eyes women up and down, CONSPICUOUSLY, pretty much non-stop. he’s a sexist who objectifies women and makes wildly inappropriate comments to and about them on a regular basis and yet, he would never cheat on his wife, and views infidelity with contempt. he is profoundly committed to his family and to his wife, and is at heart, an honorable man. even if you’d never guess it from the way he talks.

He Buys Expensive Presents When He Has Fucked Up

this may not, in itself, be admirable as a human trait, but i personally, am a fan of this behavior. my forgiveness can usually be bought.

He understands And Cares About Appearances And Labels

he is keenly sensitive to the value of image and does his best to present an image of power, authority, control, and dignity. plus also, he is a seriously sharp dressed man.

i realize these traits do not make everyone giddy, but they definitely do it for me. i am not unaware that he is also a bigot, workaholic, and general bully, but these things do not make him less appealing for all of that. i find it sort of interesting to realize this about myself, but i think it’s probably useful information going forward.

and hodie will be so relieved. she hated chuck.

**i literally squeal and bounce up and down every time i watch this scene.

crying of the sort that when you are done, your breath hitches as you draw it in. that leaves you feeling scoured out and strangely weightless. there has been that sort of crying, today.

and sometimes it is so hard to relinquish that which has done naught but hurt. to let go what has been little more than a source of pain and anguish. and why that is… i continue to wonder.

but i am trying to discover how it feels to do so nevertheless. and soon, if i am fortunate, there will be no stutter on the indrawn breath; no hitch with its release.

i barely recognize myself lately; but i think it’s mostly a good thing.

i have always been somewhat glib about my strange relationship with food. i have characterized is at combative in the past, and it really seemed apt at the time. it still occasionally does, but lately i’ve been trying harder to make peace.

previously shudder inducing; now considered edible!

a few weeks ago i was sitting at the bar in a local eatery looking at the menu and contemplating my options. typically, in almost every dish there was at least one ingredient i did not wish to enter my mouth. this is because i have a fairly long list of food items i do not much care for. and one of them is tomatoes. which, it turns out, lots of other people actually like. while i am not certain i will ever understand this fact from anything more than an intellectual standpoint, i do recognize that since so many people like them a) they may, in fact have some redeeming qualities (even though i have yet to discover them) and b) they are present in lots and lots of things i want to eat.

i have handled this in the past by ordering in a vaguely “When Harry Met Sally” sort of way:

“i’d like the bacon mushroom bbq swiss burger with no tomato or mushrooms. and could i get cheddar instead of swiss? and mustard for my fries rather than ketchup?”

and yes, i DO like the taste of spit, thanks very much.

recently however, i’ve decided to revise my attitude toward food. i do not want to see it as my enemy. i do not want to see a meal as a gauntlet of nasty unwanted items to be plucked out and disposed of.

so.

i have started eating stuff anyway. things i would normally have NEVER eaten. tomatoes only being the most prominent item on the list, there are many more indeed:

• avocados: slimy yet flavored as i would expect earwax to taste
• cilantro: mmmm soapy!
• beets: why yes, i do love “vegetables” that look like dayglo innards
• garbanzo beans: in hummus, they are yummus. otherwise gro-ess
• mushrooms: fungus. nasty. only meant for recreational consumption. not budging on this one.

so now, my new approach is to simply order whatever i am getting with the ingredient list in tact. then, i put it in my mouth. if i do not immediately throw up or die, i chew and swallow. turns out, this is not nearly as hard as i expected it to be. i havent died once so far!

this also extends to other sorts of food related hang ups. for example, i have long had the tendency to not eat leftovers. i cant explain why this is exactly, but i just find the concept of reheating food rather odious. an exboyfriend of mine used to INSIST i take home doggy bags from restaurants (i have a small appetite and can almost never finish a portion the size a typical restaurant delivers) so as not to make the chef/waitstaff/maitre de/parking attendant feel bad about themselves in case they saw my leavings as a condemnation of their fare. he would insist upon this knowing FULL WELL that i was going to throw the food away as soon as i got home, or after letting it take up space in my fridge for a few days more. because i simply could not bring myself to eat something a second time around.

and yet, tonight, i made myself a meal that was comprised ENTIRELY of food items from last week. and it was tasty. and i did not throw up or die. this, is progress.

the funny thing is, that for the first time in my life there is no one pressuring me to make these changes. it has been a sore point in almost every relationship i have ever been in, my pickyness. and now, when everyone who matters seems to be pretty okay with my weird relationship with food, i look at the people i most admire, and they are not the least bit picky about their food. they eat with relish and enjoy what is set before them. it is more that i wish to follow their example than that i am being prodded to grow up and stop being such a brat about what i eat.

thinking about this made me contemplate more fully the role of acceptance in relationships. i like to think of myself as a pretty forgiving person. i judge people certainly, i see faults, but i in no way expect or desire them to change. i feel like i should be able to take people as they come, appreciate who and how they are, and love them nevertheless.

and yet, it is a truly rare thing to have. i know i am not always perfect at this, but i think i am pretty damn good about it overall. and, not to be unduly immodest, but i consider myself to be better at it than a lot of the people in my life who have loved me. much of the love i have received in the past was expressly conditional; dependent upon my willingness to change, fix, and improve myself.

but somehow, at this stage, i can say that i have love in my life that is profoundly unconditional. that is based on that kind of comprehensive acceptance. it is not that anyone is fooled about me; it is not that they fail to see my frailties and shortcomings, but rather that they are seen, and accepted, and loved in their own right as a part of the whole of myself.

and this, beautifully, is what helps me feel free to change in the ways that i like. to become more who i am, and who i want to be.

as if by magic, explodingdog has cartooned my preoccupation…

Its Not Going To Last Forever

there are those songs, you know.

those songs which contain those words, those phrases, that spell out the aching truth of however you experience life and beauty and pain.

we all have a soundtrack. songs that bring us immediately to a place or time or feeling. without preamble or fanfare. and sometimes, they make no sense or, they make a sense that only your insides can interpret. and they are often profoundly unglamorous and leave us raw and exposed, but in the best possible way.

and today with my speakers up louder than i can usually have them at work, i heard again the line from a song that most says LOVE to me while i listen. it is contained in a song about stumbling upon love while not yet free to have it. it is not a scenario i have ever found myself in, yet it cries out with the most beautiful poignancy what i most feel… and want to feel from someone else, about love.

there have been others: they tell a story about the way my concept of love has changed

Ghost by The Indigo Girls “of all my demon spirits i need you the most”

i always felt like this song was about being in love with the idea of someone, rather than their actual person. about idealizing someone past the point of all reason so that you could have no real hope of loving them in actuality. and this is something i know well how to do. this was my idea of love when i was a sophomore in high school. it still tugs at me though…

Do What You Have to Do by Sarah McLachlan “and i have the sense to recognize that i don’t know how to let you go”

some part of me is convinced that love has to hurt. that it isn’t real if you don’t ache for the lack of the other. probably too large a part of me indeed. the quality of love i most readily recognize is the sort that causes me to lose myself so completely in the feeling that i become someone else as a result. the person i was before ceases to exist and so, in a very real sense i struggle with the notion of losing anyone i come to truly love, for it would result in becoming Not Me, at least not the Me i’d been ever since falling in love had made me someone new. plus also, i just don’t like to let go.

Steam Engine by My Morning Jacket “you’re skin looks good in moonlight, goddamn those shaky knees”

this song was just eerily appropriate for the love i was falling in at the time i first heard the song. i had never had someone so enamored of me as was the boy who was the object of my affection at the time. i had never had anyone speak with such fervor about how beautiful he thought i was; about the effect i had on him with the mere fact of my presence. this was the lesson of being adored as an aspect of love. it was a good lesson.

and finally…

Challengers by The New Pornographers “whatever the mess you are, you’re mine”

this, oh this, is what i have come to believe is really what love is about. not that we do not see, or that we are made perfect by our love, but rather that we are seen, and known, and absolved, and loved nevertheless. i think i like this notion best. it feels more true, and wise, and likely compared to the illusions and self-sacrifice of the past.

and i wonder, as i always do, about the quality of love that others feel. how it is spelled out across their lives.

it would be something like: ow.

i had weird dreams last night.

i was on my way to a film festival with some friends, and was going to meet them at their place across town, but rather than getting in my car to drive, i decided instead that i would take my home-made hot air balloon! this contraption consisted of an old recycling bin and a pouch attached by a complicated rigging system and filled, not with helium or hot air, but with nitrous oxide. the logistical problems with this mode of conveyance are many; nitrous isn’t that buoyant, as it turns out, i don’t know how in the hell i was supposed to steer (i vaguely remember some emphatic leaning) and i really don’t know how i was able to fit myself into a recycling bin. true, by the time i landed it seemed to have fallen apart just a bit, gone soft and flexible, but i never felt dangly on the ride.

the friends i was going to see were pretty impressed with my handiwork; some more than others. the boys were quick to point out my successful journey was proof of the viability of this mode of transport (thus legitimizing their desire to make one too) while the girls tended to raise a skeptical eyebrow.

it then became clear to me that i had somehow forgotten my money, and couldn’t very well attend the film festival without any. so. TBIL appeared out of the ether to offer me a ride back to my place to fetch it. however, this endeavor was complicated by his inability to select the correct route to my house (this, is the least far-fetched part of the dream, for sure) and ended up detouring into north Portland and getting caught in traffic waiting to cross the st johns bridge. the traffic was backed up there because the giant dam across the willamette in downtown portland had closed its floodgates causing the river to rise far enough to wash out the bridge (nevermind the course of the river would need to flow in the opposite direction to have this effect). which wasn’t stopping anyone from driving across it mind you, just slowing them down enough to cause a tie up. when we finally got onto the bridge it was not only 3-4 inches deep in water, it had a hill on it like the bridge between astoria and longbeach. scary.

after that i ended up losing track of TBIL and found myself back with the girlfriends in a gallery/antique shop where we looked at pottery with uneducated disdain until we found a back room with a robust supply of costume pieces. parading did ensue. the proprietor came around and scolded us; apparently some of the props were valuable.

for some reason i woke up from this dream feeling displaced and vulnerable. it seems a strange one to cling, to unsettle… yet somehow, it has.

*** i consider this post the first in a series i am going to call “Wholly Unsurprising Revelations” if you care to make any yourself, please, feel free!!***

Wholly Unsurprising Revelation: It is no fun to have someone point out things you do not like about yourself.

i am well aware of my shortcomings. in fact, i make a hobby of listing them and announcing them to others. in fact, i am here willing to proffer:

A By No Means Comprehensive List of My Faults

• self-absorbed: which seems only fair since i AM the center of the universe after all
• vain: but, you know, with good reason
• pessimistic: call me Eyeore
• alternately spastic and complacent: some call this bipolar, i see it as weakness of character
• demanding: i like stuff and attention. lots of both. now
• hypersensitive: i am squishy in the middle, there is frequent crying

and yet, as willing as i am to admit all of this, turns out it is NO FUN to have any of these things pointed out by someone else. this was made manifest to me this morning. it all started innocently enough, talking about golf…. ended with “Sometimes I forget how squishy you are” which, ironically, in itself was an attempt to avoid upsetting me.

sheesh. what a pain in the ass i can be. but dude, if you agree with me, keep it to yourself please.

there seems to be light shining from somewhere. it casts itself through me, but falls, seemingly without resistance, on the ground before my feet.

i’ve had this strange feeling for the last few days, of being out of my body and totally disconnected from my brain. i hear myself saying things i cannot credit. i feel like i am observing my actions at a remove. from somewhere above and to the right of my head.

i feel somehow less substantial to myself. more nebulous and not-there. ready to float away. casting about for an anchor, with none in sight.

and then, strange coincidences… irrational fears… gripping inanities… the absorbing mundane; all these become more difficult to process. to sort. to dismiss. and so i chatter to myself to try and make some sense of it. to give my thoughts weight, if my impulses, my feeling seem to lack all substance.