On the flip side - OKC addendum

I've been told, often, that I shouldn't complain so often about OKC if I never message people back. Or I never message people first. Thing is: I do message back. Sometimes I even message them first. I talk for a bit and they're ok. Then they freak out. I say something wrong and they disappear. Forever. Told one dude I like to color with crayons. It was true, I used to do it every week at Kafe Kerouac. It was fun! Relaxing social time with nice folks and pretty colors. Never heard from him again. Said I liked bloody movies - never heard from that guy again. Invited a guy to Havanna with some friends of mine. We'd been trying to hang out almost every night for a week. Never heard from him again either. I'm not even going to go into the guy that's messaged me three times, always in February, and asks me the exact same questions - all which end up with a "how do you feel about god" thing, despite the obvious answer on my profile that says I'm VERY SERIOUS about Atheism... "You know, I don't know how I feel about a hypothetical deity. Kinda like feeling something about gnomes, don't you think?"
Guys I've messaged first have often ended up annoying in a "I'm not really listening to what you're saying" kind of way, or the Negative Nancy type I mentioned previously, or the "I'm superhyper interested JUST CUZ you showed me the slightest attention" type. Yeah... sometimes I message dudes cuz I think their cat is cute. Not gonna lie about that. Doesn't mean we're soul mates. Also doesn't mean I wanna join your LAN party. Maybe I just want someone to talk to about cats.
So when guys (friends, mostly) come back and say, "you should give a guy a chance" or "you should start the conversation - sometimes it's hard", I can't help but say, "You know what's not hard? Reading. I could be doing that and get a lot more out of it. AND - bonus deal- I wouldn't have to feel guilty for no reason if I did that instead!"
I have enough guilt in my life without feeling responsible for the fragile egos of post-adolescent males, thank you.

On OK Cupid

Perhaps I am judging too harshly. Perhaps not all online dating sites are as frustrating. Perhaps I'm just a cynical bitch.
I just can't help that almost every time I receive any kind of message from OK Cupid, I sigh in exasperation. The exception is only if I happen to already know the sender (and even then sometimes. Really? Must you say that to me... ugh... Do you know me at all?). Whether it be "someone's checking you out RIGHT NOW" [creepy] or "SoAndSo chose you from their quiver"[awkward] or "DudeStuff sent you a message"[comes with free guilt], I know that I will be disappointed. And it's not always for the same reason.
Rarely do I complain over someone's looks. Honestly, I don't really care that much what they look like if they're an interesting person. So he looks like Tyrion Lannister. So what? If he talks and thinks like Tyrion Lannister, I've got no qualms!

Thing is, most often those that message me say something deeply inane. "Nice profile. Your funny. Want 2 chat?" Sigh. Or, like today, someone has a username that makes me uncomfortable. "Diabloblanco" is very similar to me as "ImAWhitey" and "HonkeyTime". Must you so clearly label your race when your profile picture (apparently you're sleeping with a stuffed lion - perhaps a dog) states it for you?

Occasionally someone says something interesting. Often it's "Oh, I read that book", but then it devolves into "I read that book and I hated it even though you loved it deeply. I thought it was boring, and didn't understand what the fuss was about." After I read that (which is often) all the rest I can read is "blah blah blah my opinion is better than yours blah blah blah" It is amazing how many men believe that the way to a woman's heart is to impress upon her the stunning brilliance of their idiotic and unsupported opinions. This isn't limited to books. It's even more true of film and almost ubiquitous when it comes to music. I don't get why guys think I'll be impressed when they tell me they think Kevin Smith is stupid. You already know I love his work. Why would your hatred impress me?
Actually this speaks to an even greater phenomenon among post-adolescent males. The Negative Nancy. Not only are most things stupid and beneath them, but all things that aren't are overrated. Tell a guy you like Cory Doctorow and Neal Stephenson and he'll tell you that Cory Doctorow has no idea what he's talking about and Neal Stephenson is boring and overrated. Tell him you like Quentin Tarantino and Sleater-Kinney and he'll tell you Sleater-Kinney is a whiny girl band and you'd totally like some death metal bullshit better (he'll make you a mix, if you want) and that Tarantino's a camera hog who knows nothing about film. Nothing is good enough for this man and you will never like anything cool enough for him. WHY should I spend time with them if they spend their entire hour and a half telling me my opinions are stupid? Yes, sir, that's why I never called back. Oh and also you're a drama queen.
Back to OKC.
Once I had a guy say, "I see you like Roger Zelazny. I have heard of him but may or may not have read anything by him." Really? Wow. That was a complete waste of both of our times. Are you a spy or something? Are you TRYING to keep information from me? You know I never gave a damn, right?
The chat feature is a joke. Invariably someone messages me. Says "hi" and then gets offended when I don't respond. Perhaps I'm busy or watching a movie or basically doing things to amuse myself not hanging on your every word. WHO ARE YOU?
Then there's these guys. Lots of them. "Hi there, I'm Sweaney, turned 43 earlier this month. I know that's 11 years outside of your posted age range, but apparently, I messaged you anyway. :)" Uhh... really? 43 huh? ok... there's a reason I have a posted age range, it's cuz I don't feel comfortable dating someone who could have had children who watched Ren&Stimpy. At least he didn't open with his "I like to get naked" line...
Guys who say "I was intrigued by your profile." or "I'd really like to get to know you." really just make me nervous. Were you truly intrigued by the biting sarcasm? Or was it the cynical jokes? The randomly goofy references to bullshit pop culture? Or the daring mention of tentacle porn? I just have to wonder if they get the joke. Get that it's on them and me and everyone on this ridiculous farce of a site. I should tear it down, but I keep it up on the off-chance that I sign on one day and someone genuinely catches my eye.
Perhaps I still have hope. Perhaps I'm bored. Perhaps I'm simply too damned lazy. Whatever the reason, I can't help feeling like the joke really is on me. Yes, you unwashed masses, please continue messaging me inane statements commenting on my taste in media. Please. It's what I long for.
And people wonder why I'm an escapist!

Do you need this in MLA format?

My hard drive (I'm lumping three into one) is full of random television shows. Lots of stuff from Salute Your Shorts to Deadwood. From Revolutionary Girl Utena to Ren and Stimpy. It's intense. I'm feeling the burn right now downloading... Veronica Mars or The Animaniacs, I can't remember. I'll have to do some shuffling later.
But I only have two full-length movies.
The Battleship Potemkin by Sergei Eisenstein and
Zack and Miri Make a Porno by Kevin Smith
Now, I have spent lots of time discussing, defending and basically preaching the gospel of both geniuses. Admittedly, I've spent more time discussing the genius of Kevin Smith than Eisenstein, but mostly because everyone knows how brilliant Eisenstein is. I mean, come on, modern comic art wouldn't exist if Eisenstein's theory of montage hadn't happened. That's just obvious. Seriously, if you don't know his work, look him up. You know that montage scene in every movie you've ever seen? It wouldn't exist without him. So take a moment during Team America World Police to be entertained by the contributions of a Russian revolutionary to that song about montage.
Kevin Smith, however, people write off as just a comic fan writing vulgar scripts about slackers, so I have to defend him. His insight into a 20-something existence is just as profound now, as I AM a fucking twenty-something as it was when I was an adolescent being shown what I had to look forward to. Dante's obsession with the bitch who fucked him over in high school, Brodie's tendency to ignore Rene in favor of video games, Alyssa getting pissed off at Holden for putting all that pressure on her and then Dogma's disillusionment and faith. I could go on and on about how great Dogma is. No one agrees with me, but I put it in a class with Dante and Milton. Maybe that's cuz I'm on the outside looking in. Anyway, Smith's ability to tell the truth is what's so impressive. He's true to his characters and doesn't make them do things they wouldn't. Ok, he stretches Jay and Silent Bob quite a bit, but that's kind of their whole raison d'etre. If you need this in MLA format, I'd be happy to oblige, just say the word.

Anyway, I asked Michelle earlier what she thinks it means about me that the only movies on my hard drive are Eisenstein and Kevin Smith and she said it probably doesn't mean much. She's right. Although, Kevin Smith wouldn't be able to do what he does, nor would those comics he so deeply love exist in their proper narrative form without Eisenstein's work. So maybe the choice isn't that random.
Let's be honest though. It mostly was.

Cotton vs. Kerouac. I love you too.

I have always wished I could clothe myself in books and music rather than simple cotton blends. Tonight i'd be a combination of Jack Kerouac's The Subterraneans and Sleater-Kinney's "Let's Call it Love".
I hate getting dressed because it never fully reflects my mood. Since my mood is always best described by books, movies, music and video games, its no wonder that cotton, spandex, wool and other synthetic textiles fall short of the narrative magic I prefer to envelop my consciousness in.
I buy any tshirt relevent to books I like. They fall short as well.
Outland tonight. Cotton blends.

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The cat

There's this cat that's been hanging around my house. Lounging on the porch in full view of Puck and on the front steps blocking my path. He's older, has long, sparse fur and is rail-thin.
He has a look about him, though. Obviously he's either sick or come on some hard times. He's not hale and hearty like Puck. But he's got this look of past might. Sad eyes tell a tale of glory and woe. I started wondering about his name. I could only think of "king" in various languages. Then I thought of Oedipus and his wandering the countryside a broken grotesque. I wondered if something equally horrible happened to my new furry neighbor. If "Roi" had befallen a terrible fate and exiled himself as his own cruel punishment.
A fallen king. An exiled grotesque plagued by his past strength and nobility. A one-was. Who are you, my Roi? Teasing the young man in a cage because you've lost all other ways to make yourself mighty. Blocking my path to cry for attention in a moment of tired weakness- a beggar king.
I named him Roi to avoid the English and Greek associations. I wonder if he understood that I've given him permission to lounge on my steps and porch? I know he understood and appreciated my friendly scratch on the head, anyway. Always be nice to beggar-kings.

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Forgettable?

As old as i am, it still disturbs me that there are times in my life that i can't remember. That there are some days that are utterly forgettable. Nothing significant happens so in passing weeks, months, years, you forget that day. You forget most days. It's all reduced to a mood or a feeling or an atmosphere that may give a lasting impression with nothing specific to give you a reason for those impressions. No text to cite as a source in your MLA formatted five-paragraph essay about why that day gave that impression. It's like the day never happened at all.
And what use does it serve if there isnt anything special about it? Thats why i used to keep a diary, because i wanted to remember at least something about every day. And I found that usually there was something that, on that day, made it unique. I'd write that down and move on. Reading over old entries from high school or whenever, I can't remember those things at all. I see that they happened because i wrote them down, but a quiz in French or someone coming to school to talk about drugs are only memorable in the short term, not the long term. It's the long term that unsettles me.
There's a picture on Facebook of someone dresses as me. You'd think that was memorable, but apparently not. I'd forgotten entirely until i saw the picture. Even reminded, all i've got is a vague bell-ring of an idea she'd had one day. No memory at all of her borrowing clothes and going to a party dressed in a Blanche costume. Then i felt bad, as if people dressed like me all the time, which they thankfully don't. It's awkward enough that someone did it once.
I know this is just the way our minds work. We can't hold on to every detail of every day for our entire lives. There simply isn't enough space. I just want to know when, or how often, i purge those files to free up more memory? Is there a disk cleanup function that reorganizes and archives my files to create more room for newer or more frequently accessed files? I just got a new external with 2TBs of space. Can I fill THAT with old days I've lost? I guess i'd have to compress them pretty severly. Maybe that's what my problem is. The pieces i'm missing are the pieces that are dropped out to compress the file for storage. The equivalent of high notes and low tones that we supposedly can't even hear. Our brain has filtered out all the stuff we wouldnt care about anyway to leave us with a hypercompressed file that's no longer a true memory but rather an educated guess about what probably happened. Like Katherine and my shirt. Obviously she borrowed it and went to a party, since in the picture she's wearing it at a party. I have no memory of these things happening, nor what the bloody hell i was doing instead of attending this party. I have an educated guess based on information i have about the general mood of the time surrounding this picture. Though maybe it's a minor detail, I remain disturbed that i have no memory of discussing or picking out an outfit for her to wear dressed as me, which may have been really funny. It's been compressed and archived and lost in the last great file purge, i guess. Sorry Katherine, my Secret Twin. <3

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Why CAHS kids don't read Hamlet

I'm having a "What a piece of work is man..." kind of afternoon. I know I'm such a CAHS kid. I know he was being sarcastic. I know he was a silly, angsty adolescent. But that quote sums up quite perfectly the majesty and the scale of human capabilities. Look at all this! Despite the horror, despite the bloodshed, despite the madness. Look at all we mere mammals have accomplished! Marvel in it. Relish it! I'm blogging from my little phone on a bus travelling on a paved road through a city. It's a small tribute to all humanity has accomplished since Catal Hoyuk(sp)! How is this not breathtakingly marvelous? Sometimes i just have to sit back and think, "What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in apprehension how like a god. The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!"- Hamlet, Act II scene ii, William Shakespeare. <3


Irrelevantly: Everything is better with chopsticks. ^_^

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