Sunday Morning

The Musician called me around 3am asking me if I wanted to go to Duluth.  I asked why?

Musician-: "You don't want to go because you don't have a passport?"

Me-: "I have a passport. You asked me about it before. But why would I want to go to the States?"

Musician- :"I don't know. Thought you might like to go. I'm going to the dells next week."

Me-: "Okay the what?"

Musician-: "The water slides in Wisconsin. You want to come with me?"

Me-: "God no. What time is it... you realize it's almost 3:25am?"

Musician-: "Just got back from the club. You weren't sleeping were you?"    

Ironically, I was not, I was having a horrible time with a battle of insomnia but he did not need to know that.

Musician-: "Have you been to the States before?"

Me-: "Million years ago, when I was a kid. Why?"

Musician- :"Do you want to go to Duluth?"

Me-: "No.  If I wanted to go to the States, I'd have gone to New York or Orlando by now for stuff."

Musician- :"Okay, oh well Ryan is here so I gotta go. But if you want to go to get your printer tomorrow, just give me a call and we can head over to walmart."

Why did I answer my phone?

She flaked

I got a text around noon from Musician telling me another girl flaked on him for a date.   My gut reaction was to say "welcome to my world now you know how I felt with those guys"   But I did not, instead I asked if he wanted to meet me for coffee.
Oh why did I do that?   

He met up with me out at the electronic store where I was trying to find a new printer.  The one I could afford did not have any toner available in store and the sales guy could not order any.  I had to forgo my printer today and will have to try another store tomorrow.   Another road block for my novel. 

We had our coffee, and he told me about his latest complications in dating and I stared at the display case of dvds that were on sale.   Yes, my biggest addiction besides The Celebrity and The Other Guy is movies okay, lest it's not drugs.  SATC's Carrie had shoes, I have dvds.

He wanted to know what he's doing wrong to make these women bail on him.   I was tempted to give him a run down in why I believe he's pushing them away, but I held my tongue for a bit and just asked him what he thinks the issue is.
He keeps coming back to the fact he's only attracting heavy set women to him.  The women whom he's attracted to are the ones who are standing him up. 
Seriously, I could sit here and point out the fact he seems to have no clue when he's invaded someone's personal space, or that he never puts down his cell phone... dudes he talked to me from the toilet this morning I kid you not... so gross really so gross.  

My day ended about an hour ago when I was on my way home from mother's, via the Starbucks located in the grocery; where upon I was standing behind a very slow moving Zane as he gathered up store carts. Then stood around as the line in the Starbucks expanded to reach the doors while the new guy flirted with this girl who just did not want to move to the side for the rest of the customers even though she wasn't even getting anything.
I ended up sitting down for a few minutes, watching the length of the Starbucks and the express check out where Zane was.  

I am curious to find out who has more groupies,  Zane or the new Starbucks Guy?

Count your pennies

My Uncle is normally a man who babbles about nothing of importance, much like myself;  but keeps his rants to how bad Woody Allen films are. Yesterday, he got on a strange rant about how we should always marry with money. 

Uncle-: "Make sure you date someone with a job.  Don't get mixed up with someone who is unemployed cause then they're always asking to borrow money. Can I borrow $20, can I borrow $50. No, don't do it. Make sure they have a good job.  Make sure they have a J.O.B. Don't just live with them either. Make sure you know they have a job before you marry them."

Me-: "Um. Sure."

Uncle-:"What? Too, make sure you really get to know them.  You're sister was with this guy before he even got a legal divorce she's setting herself up for trouble. Big big trouble. He's got kids! Kids that cost money to raise. Just make sure you don't get involved with someone unless they are working."

Me-: "Well, single dads are like the only thing in this city that's out there. And even the ones who claim to be single I've learned the hard way never really are. They've all been guys who've lied about it.  Which is why I don't date local guys anymore."

Uncle- :"You see All My Children today? David got stabbed and Erica is in the nut house."

What do you make of that?

"You've got fans" Walsh said to me while we were hanging around the bakery. 

He was on his way home from picking up the kids from a play date, and I was on my way home from mother's.

"I do? Really? Huh. And all this time I thought I had a bunch of guys in the industry reading me laughing and trying not to splatter their coffee on the computer screens when they do. They love me most the time."

Walsh-: "You don't think you have fans?"

Me-: "Okay maybe a few. But I don't get any letters, no comments. And the few I have gotten over the last few years have been fans of the guys I write about asking me what The Other Guy uses in his hair and can I please post more photos of The Other Guy.  that sort of thing.  No one reads me for me, they read me to know about The Celebrity and The Other Guy. Hell The Celebrity and The Other Guy read me to know about The Celebrity and The Other Guy.  It's pure food chain here.  Them at the top, me under the bottom rung."   I knocked over a half a display of hot dog buns from having flung my arms about.  I have to stop talking with my hands so much.

Walsh-: "I beg to differ. The whole sub-internet industry; didn't you say you were the first doing this?"

Me-:"To the best of my knowledge yeah. To the extent I was doing it, at my height of it, yeah.  The first Woman anyway." I bent to pick up the rest of the display that had fallen when I picked up the first two packs. "Sub-internet industry?  What we talking in code now?"

Walsh-: "You know what I mean. The internet blogging. That's something to be proud of."

Me-: "You know what though, since I made the comment I did while back about how I do not feel TOG is my Mr. Scratchy,  my ratings, hits, stats whatever you want to call them on the blog,  have gone down by half.  HALF! "

Walsh raised an eyebrow at me giggling as his youngest started to count out a handful of candy.  Two for her dad, four for her and none for me because I don't eat meat and they were little candies shaped like T-bone steaks.  Just my luck that the kid listens to stuff we talk about.

Walsh-: "Huh? Maybe there is more here then you want to believe.  You know I still think you should email them. Can't hurt." 

Me-: "Nope. I can't. No way to email them now.  All I had was a Myspace for them, but not any more."

Walsh-: "Huh. I still say there is something here you're not filling me in on. And since you asked me what I think about everything,  I think you need to go back to doing the wrestling reviews again."

Me-: "It lost it's shine for me.  Besides I was sort of  bad at it. And no one bothered to ever let me know for like a year. Never once did any of them shoot me a comment or an email saying that I called something wrong or how to properly spell something." 

Walsh-: "And if they had you would have gotten pissed off about it.  Darling, you're not going to win because you keep putting yourself down. I know you don't want to hear it but I'm just telling you the truth and it's what Grandma would have said if she were still alive."

Me-: "You did not just pull that on me!"

Walsh-: "And as much as I hate to say it, you were better at it then you think you were. Stop listening to auntie.  Auntie has her head up her butt. You're the one who is always going on about signs and omens and all that kind of stuff consider this a sign. Me, telling you to get off your high horse."

Me-:"I just want to go away for a few years. Travel."

What's my line?

"Are you okay? You look all zombied again."  I got asked by Mitch when I returned a few dvds today.  He was halfway out the door for his break.

"Novel is haunting me"  I answered.  I asked him where he was heading, he was just going next door to the coffee shop so I tagged along.

Mitch-: "Again?"

Me-: "Still. Just when I think the thing is all well and happy I find another plothole or some small scene starts to feel wrong."

Mitch-: "Can't help you on that." he scratched his freshly shaved jaw.  I took a look at him in his jeans and company blue sweater.  He's managed to gain about five pounds in the last while, doesn't look like a rake anymore. "What?"  he asked very much catching me checking him out.

Me-: "You look good is all. I like the no beard thing."

Mitch-: "Thank you. You're the only one to say anything.  Starting to think I'm invisible at work."

Me-: "Willow I'm guessing."

Mitch-: "That obvious? She's in a relationship but from the way she's talking, it's about to bottom out."

It was one of those moments when I really wished we were in a movie or some nonsense, where I could have just pulled him to me for a kiss or made a move but we weren't and that would have caused a great amount of bad uncomfortable feelings and would have destroyed the semi-friendliness we've had for the last two years.  So instead, I let out a deep breath and pretended to check my cell for imaginary missed messages I knew were not there while he got his coffee.
But I know he felt the strain for a couple of moments because he hurried to get a table while I got my own coffee, didn't wait in line with me and by the time I had walked over to the table, he was on to a common safer topic.  The movies I'd just returned.  Were they any good?  I'm the only one who's had the guts to rent a couple of documentaries on porn and they might get pulled from the shelf for clearance.

The Widow Effect

My sister and I went to look at a house.  The lady selling it is 97 years old, and has lived alone since her husband died over 35 years ago.
She never remarried, never dated anyone else. 

My sister and I ended up having coffee afterwards, and talked about the house, if she thinks her husband is going to like it, if she thinks the kids will and then we sort of each commented on the idea of being alone in a house for that long.   35 years taking care of the place on her own.    35 years of being alone. 

I don't know if I could do that?  Not for that long anyways. 
Both our grandmothers lived over twenty years without dating after our grandfathers died.  Both widows who never remarried, never dated.  I know this for fact, as both my grandmothers ended up living with us after their husbands died. 

Is it a compliment to the men they married or just the programmed expectations of their generation?

35 years, that's a full lifetime. 

I felt like some sort of castle freak for the first while I was single.  Now, I'm comfortable, but the idea of going on the rest of my life alone is unthinkable to me. 
I'm all for taking time to adjust and take care of your own health/money/goals, but at some point you have to rejoin society.  Don't you?

9 to 5 Days in Porn (2008)

This is a documentary of the porn industry in L. A.   We follow the lives of roughly ten people in the business from talent, to managers, to directors to photographers to a former star turned doctor.  Each telling about why they got into the business, and what keeps them there.

Can you actually classify this as a porno film?   I'm going to say no.  Yes, most scenes happen when the cameras were rolling on actual porn sets, but much of it is shot from over the shoulder of the crew. 

I have to admit, I'm no stranger to this sub-genre {the documentary of porn has become a popular one in the last few years} and this is one of the best I've come across yet.  With discussions on why the limits have been expanded as to what people are expecting, and showing a crisscross of production elements, you end up feeling like you're watching an episode of the Passionate Eye.  This is more then just a taste of the world of porn from a safe distance, it's a new layer of independent film at it's best.
Hopefully one that gives a new understanding to something that people are sometimes afraid of.