Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Hey! Guess what I got for Christmas?!
Yep! Angry!
Well. I got some other really cool stuff, too. Actually, some really cool stuff.
I got a flashlight which does this:
I know. Cool.
Well. As cool as it’s going to get for me.
Since no one saw their way clear to give me an iGuy or even a regular guy, I’m back to looking for dates.
I’d like to take this time to remind you that at this point I am doing this only because I said I would. I vowed to go on 50 first dates and I will. I’ve been kind of slack about it. I haven’t exactly been meeting men who are right for me in any way, or vice versa. I didn’t set out on this adventure merely to amass dates. I wanted to maintain some sort of credible base line of characteristics. I only wanted to go on actual dates with men whom there might be an actual chance for a mutually desired second date.
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I knew it wouldn’t happen quickly. I was okay with that. This was about sincere dating effort trying to find men equally sincere in their dating pursuits.
Oh, they’re sincere all right. Sincere in not wanting to date me or sincere in wanting nothing more than quick and easy sex. Not a whole lot in between those extremes.
And that’s what’s worn down my resolve. The extreme men on online dating sites. And yes, there are some very extreme women, on online dating sites, too. But since I’m heterosexual and trying to find a man I can only speak with any authority on the men who use online dating sites. The extremely stupid. The extremely rude. The extremely selfish. It all adds up to extremely boring.
I know, I know, boring people get bored. I know. It's not them, it's me. I’m not saying I and my oh-so-sparkling personality and beguiling looks aren’t at fault. They are absolutely part of the boring equation.
There are some really, really, swell guys online. But for the most part they’re not interested in me. Because there are a lot of other women who do possess sparkling (normal) personalities and beguiling looks on online dating sites. A lot of them.
The weirdest thing for me about this whole "adventure" is that I’ve met some really great women. No, nothing kinky. Just other women trying to find a nice, intelligent, sincere caring guy, too. And they're having difficulty finding the right one, or any one, too. Which helps me take some heart in my plight - if they can’t find sincere, nice, intelligent, polite, unmarried men to date them there’s something wrong with the men. If I were an unmarried sincere, nice, intelligent, polite man looking to meet like minded women for dates and potential relationships, I’d be really excited about all the potential found in the women on online dating sites.
But I’m not an unmarried sincere, nice, intelligent, polite man. I’m just me trying to find one man I can tolerate who can tolerate me. I know. With lofty expectations and ideals like that I’m never going to find a man. Believe me, I know.
I’ve given up and now I’m simply attempting to fill my obligation of 50 first dates. I’m still going to stick to my resolve to not date just any guy. I am still going to at least maintain some credibility in terms of dating men who have some miniscule viability in terms of us at least being able to hold a conversation over a drink or lunch.
This is more difficult than those of you who are uninitiated to this process probably realize.
Those extreme personalities tend to cause barriers to conversation.
I have a problem, not a challenge, a problem with people who are egotistical, narcissistic and/or selfish. (I find those traits tend to travel together. I call it the Holy trinity of I, me, mine.) I shut down around people who are self involved and self motivated. Not because I want it be all about me, but because I prefer to learn about other people by their ideas and actions. The whole, “Don't tell me you're funny, prove it to me. Share a laugh. Make a witty observation. Something, anything” thing.
My problem with these personalities is more problematic than other peoples’ problems with people like this. I have a problem talking about myself. (in real life. If real life were like blogging I wouldn’t actually have many problems.) When I’m with someone who is consumed with talking about themselves, I just sit there listening, at first trying to interject something about a topic like music or books or art or travel or shopping - something, anything other than what a gift to humanity they are. But in many cases, ego driven men don’t take the bait or the hint.
Mention a band or a song and they take over the conversation with how they heard them first or hate them most or another better band or song. Better because they like it. Bring up the fact that kumquats are in season and on sale at the grocery and they tell you about their trip to Australia where they traveled to the Outback and ate Kangaroo rump with fresh kumquat chutney.
Yes. This is what conversation means. Give and take, sharing experiences, all that. But. For the selfish ego driven narcissists, every topic, no matter what, is all about them, them, them. They are masters at the art of steering every topic of conversation to themselves, their experiences, their opinions, their excuses, their ability to never be wrong and always be the best, first and most. Best, first and most everything. There’s a point where there’s no point in trying to have a conversation because it’s a foregone conclusion no matter what the topic it will end up being about them.
And for someone like me, someone who has difficulty talking about themselves, this is not only boring but lethal. These guys walk away from dates with me thinking one of two things: I’m boring or I’m a great listener. The men who think the former think I’m boring when in fact I couldn’t get a word in edgewise or because I simply gave up trying to talk because I find it difficult to talk about myself and they didn’t or couldn’t take the time to engage me in a conversation about which they are not the leading authority long enough for them to learn anything about me or share ideas. The men who think I’m a great listener completely misread me. I am in fact a very good listener. But. They go away thinking their ego has been nicely stroked by a woman who sat captivated by their reparteé. They’re wrong. Again, I simply couldn’t get a word in edgewise or was unable to keep the conversation steered away from them long enough for them to realize I have a few things to say, too.
And yes, I shoulder half the blame in these instances. If I could talk about myself or were better at motivating them to think about something other than themselves there wouldn’t be a problem. But I suck at the first and run out of patience with the second. So yeah. These guys are just not the right sort of guy for me. We’re absolutely doomed to fail. We’re wrong for each other.
I’ve learned to weed out a lot of the more obvious selfish ego drive narcissists. But sometimes one slips through the net. Some of them are clever. Some of them know some of us don’t do well with their ego motivation and try to keep it in check long enough to get a roll in the sack. But to the experienced ego maniac dater, there are always signs. Signs which spell out: RUN AWAY! DANGER! SELFISH JERK AHEAD! IT’S ALL ABOUT HIM! HIM! HIM!
I heed the warning signs and try to go the other direction.
But every now and then one will give me pause for thought. “Maybe he’s just trying to tell us all about himself because he’s trying really hard to find the right woman or let everyone know what a great guy he is. Maybe he’s new at this. Maybe he’s really not so bad in person.”
Okay. I’m usually wrong. But. Every now and then I wonder.
And every now and then I email or talk to one of these guys thinking maybe they’re different, maybe they’re not all about them, them, them. Maybe it’s a façade. Maybe they're insecure and this is their way of masking it.
But I'm usually wrong. So far in almost every case my initial suspicions were confirmed. And with an added bonus.
Often narcissism’s more sinister sibling, Hypocrisy, chaperones the date or phone call.
I find it ironic and more than a little confusing that frequently the ego driven selfish narcissists claim to want to date intelligent and confident women.
Ironic because their egos won't allow them to enjoy or even converse with anyone who wants to discuss anything other than them.
I cannot tell you how many hundreds of men have "turned" on me the second I posed or vocalized an opinion or idea contrary to theirs. Instead of pursuing my idea or opinion, you know conversing, exchanging ideas, having a discussion, they become hostile and defensive.
The men who so staunchly claim they want an intelligent woman will lash out at her, rudely, immaturely, the second she expresses an idea or opinion which is in any way opposed to his. If it doesn't involve stroking his ego.
I now call this the "Jane, you ignorant slut" syndrome. If a woman presents an idea, opinion, or woe to the brave woman who does this, present a fact, in any way remotely opposing his views or worse, expresses an idea or concept to which he can in no way relate or any way bring up himself, he will immediately call her names, tell her she's wrong/stupid/a bitch and then either storm off in a huff (or hang up the phone or never email again) or begin talking about how wonderful and right he always is, changing the topic entirely and making sure he is not only the topic and center of conversation, but that the topic of him contains many trumped up examples of how glorious, bigger and better he is. Period. End of discussion/email and never to meet face to face.
These guys can't handle the truth.
And most of them live in this very safe isolated world known as their ego.
One guy and I exchanged emails then had a few phone conversations. Yes. He was in a band. Yes. He was the lead singer. Yes. No one has ever heard of them. Yes. They're extremely local and always will be. Let it be known to all who have not yet ventured down the trail of local musicians, especially lead singers: Ego. Huge, throbbing, noisy, selfish, overblown egos. (And if you're the lead singer in an extremely local band do not bother to write me to tell me how wrong I am. We'll just assume you're the singular exception because you're so unique and special and better and different and better.) I knew he was very selfish and ego driven. But, he seemed to be interested in meeting me, he said he liked intelligent and sarcastic women. I thought, "give him a chance. His selfish ego is his protection. His defense. Give him a chance, get past that self centered exterior and maybe he's an okay guy."
I was traveling a lot at the time, he was busy, too, so we kept talking on the phone every few days instead of meeting face to face. I happened to be out of town and he rang my cell. I happened to have just returned to the hotel after doing some quick shopping and was trying to pack my suitcase with the extra stuff. And then he did it. It was the first and only time he asked me a question, asked me something about me. I thought maybe I was breaking through the wall of selfish protection. I was proud of myself for hanging in there long enough to get past his ego. So I leapt at the chance to talk about something I like. When he asked me what I bought, I said, "a skirt and some new shoes."
"What kind of shoes?"
I described them to him.
"What brand?" he asked.
Hmmm. I don't think he's gay. He doesn't seem metrosexual. And yet he wants to know the exact brand of shoes I bought. Hmmmm. Okay. I'll go along with this. He's engaging me in conversation about me for the first time so I'll go along to show positive encouragement and reinforcement. I told him the brand.
"Never heard of them. I don't wear cheap shoes," was his response.
I'm not kidding. That is the exact quote. I was not stunned so much as confused. I kept repeating his words in my head trying to figure out if I didn't understand what he said. "Never heard of them." "I don't wear cheap shoes." Meaning, since he's never heard of the brand they must be cheap.
They in fact were on sale and in the mid-price range, by the way.
But my ego isn't wasn't affronted. His was. I gave him a bit of information which he could not process. He never heard of that brand of shoes. His ego got scared. This is what went on inside his head: "Oh no! Oh no! I don't know that brand. I can't process this information! Oh no! What if I'm not the coolest? Quick! Cover yourself! Cover yourself man! You're very cool and in a band, the lead singer thank you very much, and you know everything there is know about cool so if you haven't heard of them they must be cheap. Whew. That's it. They're cheap. You're still better. It's still all about you. Whew. That was close. Gimme 5. On the side. Right on. You da man."
I chose to ignore his comment and continued talking about shoes, since he did inquire about the brand and everything, "They sort of look like Fluevogs only not quite as funky, I've been wanting something a little more conservative but not Church Lady-ish and this is it."
"I have five pair of Fluevogs," he answered.
"Cool. I really like some Fluevogs. But some of them seem weird for the sake of weird and really uncomfortable," I said casually.
"They're not weird they're cool. I'm going to get more of them," he said, almost as a challenge to a duel.
"Cool,” I responded, now back in my place and keeping my side of the conversation to one syllable.
"I mean it, I am getting another pair this weekend,” he persisted, volume in his voice rising, as if I had vocalized doubt about his ability to obtain Fluevogs.
"Cool,” I responded enthusiastically.
"I don't wear cheap shoes," he yelled at me.
"Um, okay. Cool,” I said, trying to keep an air of conviviality.
"God you're a bitch. Why are you always so condescending?"
Me: Very confused. Him: WAAAAAAAAY too defensive. About shoes. Women's shoes. My shoes. And yet, there he was accusing me of being a condescending bitch about his shoes.
Now, I'm not denying the fact that I can, in fact, on occasion, be a condescending bitch. But this was not one such occasion. I had no idea how to respond. I just sat there trying to figure out what to say.
I shouldn't have bothered to try to sort it out.
He cut off the phone without a good bye and I never heard from him again. Which was fine. I was never crazy about him anyway. That ego. That selfishness.
(And seriously, what straight nonmetrosexual single guy who doesn't work in the shoe business knows any brand of women's shoes? Fetishists and a guy who's been trained well by another woman on how to get straight into a woman's bed.)
I have worked with men like this. (The ego guys, not the fetishists and well trained shoe whisperers.)
It's scary. They're scary.
Dating one? Well. I mean. I just, I just can't. I just cannot do it. I've done it. I've even had relationships with men sort of like this.
It's a lot of work and I don’t mean the good kind of maintaining a relationship work. It's always about them. Always. Always. Always. Everything. Everything is always about them. Their opinions. Their ideas. Their past. Their future. Them. Them. Them. Everything. Always. Them. Even when they say they like and need intelligent women and intellectual stimulation. Even when they claim to be talking about ideas. Even when they tout spirituality and deeper connections, it’s all about them. Their intellectual stimulation on their terms. Their ideas, not yours. Their spirituality and connections, not yours. They want these things but they cannot see far enough past their needs to realize fulfillment on these levels can only come from listening and learning from someone else, caring about someone else, giving of themselves to someone else. Even when they’re talking about you or your ideas, it’s only in relation to them. How you affect them. How your ideas affect them. How your opinions are not like theirs or just like theirs. How the former is bad, the latter is good. Because it’s all about them.
See how much work it is to just read about it? Imagine living life with someone like that. Shudder.
Okay. Easy there girlfriend. It's okay. Weird shallow hypocritical selfish lead singer boy is long gone and can't make you listen to him talk about himself ever again.
Until I started meeting a lot of men all at once I never thought about the direct correlation between selfishness and hypocrisy. Now I feel as though I've garnered enough research data to submit a detailed report to Association of Behavioral Medicine.
But then a guy comes along and I wonder, again, maybe, you know, maybe he’s not how he seems. There are enough interesting things about him to see if maybe he’s not all about him.
Like this week’s
This guy is my age. He likes to travel. He likes Fall and bike riding. He finds brianiacs a turn on and is interested in a long term relationship. Okay. That’s a good start, right? Well. It’s a start. But here are my concerns.
This was what he wrote in the "about the woman I'd like to meet" section
“I want you to take me as I am, no changes no modifications. I am not a video game so don't try to program or control me or make me do what you want me to do. (Yes, mahster.) You are positive and upbeat you have unmatched sexual energy because you'll need it with me. (I’m reading this a lot lately - the whole “unmatched sexual energy” thing. I assume these guys mean they want a woman who goes at it several times a day and night. Better living through Viagra and all that. But. “Unmatched” sexual energy actually means “a (1) : to put in a set not possessing equal or harmonizing attributes (2) : to cause to not correspond : notSUIT b (1) : to not be the counterpart of; also : to not compare favorably with (2) : to not harmonize with c : to not provide with a counterpart 4 : to not fit together or make suitable for fitting together” Unmatched sexual energy could also mean the low end of the libido, scale, too. Webster’s free online, guys. You might want to look up a few definitions before you use words, especially words in cliché phrases) You are cute and like to stay in shape or nature has given you the hot bod that doesn't need exercise. (Okay, I assume he means doesn’t need exercise to stay a hot bod, but again, I mean, every body needs exercise. Even if she’s just having non stop sex as her form of exercise, it’s exercise. And does anyone over the age of 16 and not making a low budget porn film honestly say hot "bod" anymore?) Ideally you would like sports as an entertainment option, so i don't have to always go with the guys. You will like Italian food because I enjoying cooking Italian food.
Notice anything not quite right here? Okay, if you're sharp and cynical you'll notice a lot quite wrong. But. The overriding issue I have with this guy is that even in the “about the woman I'd to meet” section, the area where he's supposed to wax poetic or at least take a trip to Fantasy Island about the woman he wants to meet, he talks about himself. Everything, everything about the woman he hopes to meet is about him. It's just a continuation of his description about himself.
He starts the description of his ideal woman talking about himself and how he's not going to change, dammit. He devotes the first two sentences and strongest statements in the "about the woman I'd like to meet" to himself - apparently a very selfish and stubborn self. Apparently there have been problems with women trying to change him. Hey, I hear you brother, that can be a drag. On the other hand, if every woman you date attempts to change the same things about you, perhaps maybe you might want to be flexible and curious enough to see if perhaps their suggestions are a good idea. For instance, maybe eating Italian food every day isn't such a great idea. Those pasta carbs can really slow you down in bed.
And if you’re with a woman who possesses "unmatched" sexual energy, you don’t want anything to slow down you and your Viagra. Oh sure, you obviously like Italian food, but it gets really boring to other people. And then you get boring to other people. You’re a one trick pony.
You claim to be turned on by brainiacs, here’s an idea: Spend an evening trying a new recipe from a culture about which you know very little. You can learn about the culture, try some new food and get sex another way than simply by once again boring the pants off the poor girl. I’m not trying to change you, I’m trying to help you understand something about me and other women. I know it has nothing to do with you, but, women, especially brainiacs, like to try and learn about and explore new things. I’m not trying to modify you, I’m only trying to share some insight. Have a conversation. Just discussing some things, that’s all.
And that’s what conversations with these guys is like. If I can get a word in edgewise, it’s only to sooth their fears, fears manifested when their egos find themselves in conversations not about them. It’s scary out there! Poor ego needs to be stroked and massaged and cradled and coveted and kept safe and warm. All by itself.
Can I do it? Yes. But should I? Should I give this guy a chance? Am I being too picky? Am I being an alarmist over his “about the woman I’d like to meet” section? I don't think I'm the woman he's trying to meet, in fact I know I'm not. But, is he a viable date?
11:40 AM
