Archive for June, 2015


I had a beautiful, long, laying it bare, slicing the vein and bleeding it out few paragraphs written here explaining some things. I’m sensitive like that and I’m done apologizing for it. I mean, I get it DC. You’re a cynical city. Meh. I’ll stick to having a soul. Laugh if you want. Anyway, then I remembered: I have a rule against providing attention to the shallow and cruel. Those people find enough ways to inflate themselves and their “accomplishments”, and they manage to find enough people to dupe into believing the myths they promote, so I’m certainly not going to inadvertently contribute to the adulation by giving any kind of attention at all. But I do want to clear one thing up.

I met a man some time ago. He was interesting and handsome and smart and I liked him. That guy might still exist but I haven’t seen him in a while. After he almost immediately chatted up a friend of mine, I told him he should go for that, if that’s what he wanted, and I would make adjustments. I wasn’t even being snarky, just acknowledging that people like what they like, and I thought enough of him to still know him as a friend. Apparently that was unforgivable because I’ve been smacked fairly repeatedly with information about how I don’t measure up and was even a mistake compared to the woman he now sees. That’s not an easy thing to swallow when that woman is the type who will publicly destroy you should you fail to worship her. I may not have much, but I’m not that kind of girl and I don’t appreciate being told I’m less than someone who would do that to someone they ostensibly love. I mean really, f*ck you. I hate you’re (apparently I’m speaking directly to the guy now. Go figure) not the kind of person secure enough to apologize for being an ass. You might find that you wouldn’t have to settle for the merely outwardly stunning (most of which is manufactured) and could have the full monty, a good person who actually cares about you AND is a badass in life and work. There are good people who are rather accomplished and wouldn’t tell everyone they’re only sticking around for the free stuff they get for knowing you.

Anyway, I’m bored of this silliness. It’s depressing and it makes me sad for you and I don’t know you well enough to be sad for you. But I did want to get it on record somewhere that you came to me, buddy. And I didn’t pursue you, I just wanted to make things right so there was no bad blood and we could be friends. But you couldn’t just take that for what it was, right? Had to create a myth and make a girl cry, one who really just liked you and felt bad that she didn’t have the patience to put up with your bullshit. I actually did feel bad about it. And look what that got me. Anyway, you found someone who will put up with it, and that’s great. Just don’t run out of limelight or free tickets and you should be fine.

On a somewhat related note, my brother Daniel said to me once that a defining characteristic of my personality is that I don’t like to be bothered with stress or annoyances. I remember feeling bad about that at the time, like somehow that made me a bad person who couldn’t deal with the daily realities of other people. But now…I mean, yeah, that’s right. I’m sure that makes me selfish. I know it does. But I have very little patience for drama and upset to alleviate some existential boredom. I get that life and especially love means dysfunction and negotiation. I understand that very well. Shall I recount my childhood? But so much of what I see crosses the “sometimes things just happen” line into “I need for something to happen because I might scratch my skin off if it doesn’t” or “I’m feeling inadequate today so I need some other to feel rotten so I can feel pretty or powerful” or what-the-hell-ever. Some people need blood in the water. Like sharks. I’m okay not being a shark and just wanting to float. But make no mistake: I have teeth. I just use them for self-defense, not for sustenance.

I’ve wanted to write about the notion of forgiveness as it relates to the shootings in Charleston and the dystopian wasteland that is Baltimore. And I mean that last part. I walked from the Inner Harbor up to Mount Vernon at 10 pm on a weeknight recently and was legitimately worried. My friend assured me we were fine but I’m not even sure he believed it. But hey, we lived. And had a really good drink at a pretty cool bar before I hopped the train back to DC. But the landscape stuck with me. Stark, empty, depressed, and yet roiling just underneath all that with a barely contained chaos. You can feel it in the air. And I went back to a conversation I had with an Uber driver of mine recently who was born and raised in Baltimore. He expressed shock at how Charleston handled the church shootings. How the community forgave and came together to maintain the peace. “It’s the way it is down there. People see themselves as part of something larger, and they recognize their roles in making that larger community work. So they do what they can to preserve it,” I told him. “It’s not that way in Baltimore. It’s not the culture there. It’s every man for himself,” he said.

No kidding. And isn’t it fascinating that they live under a system that is the result of the American version of progressive socialism, where the social justice warriors are always extolling the virtues of working for the common good? I’m sure there’s a larger piece to write there. Perhaps I should write it. I need to write something…I’ve just been so busy…

Anyway, people were shocked and critical of those who would forgive that horrible and misguided child that chose to shoot up a church. But here’s the secret of forgiveness: it’s not altruistic. Not at its heart. It’s ultimately about the self. Forgiving means you let go of the baggage of hate that would sit in your belly and turn you necrotic from the inside out. You choose to be free when you forgive. So don’t get it twisted. It has less to do with the forgiven and most to do with the forgiver. Do with that what you will.

Okay, release complete. I could go into what I think of the Iran deal but suffice to say John Kerry scares the ever living shit out of me and I think we are reacting more than negotiating. Unless I’m wrong, Iran has the bomb. All the talk about keeping them from getting it is a lie. The entire deal is a weak peace treaty so they don’t use it. I’m convinced of that, but would love to be convinced otherwise.

Finally, I’m sorry if anything you read here was harsh or hurt your feelings. But mine get hurt all the time and sometimes you just need to throw up the wall and speak the truth and let the chips fall. I’m sure you understand.

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Saw this recently. Adorable. I'd like to not still relate to this kind of thing anymore.

Saw this recently. Adorable. I’d like to not still relate to this kind of thing anymore.

I’m going to be cursing. Fair warning and I’m sorry.

The Braves, okay. Their bullpen makes me deeply sad… Pops thinks that Gonzalez is figuring out who fits where and we’ll see a different team after the All Star break and we’re only 3 games out of first, etc. and et al. But they don’t, improbably, look terrible. They actually look…kinda…good. What? I know, right? I’m not sure what to do with it either…Let’s just hang on to that for a while and be chipper and hopeful about it, shall we?

There’s something else, before I get into the politics of things, I want to talk about and hang on to if I can. It starts with that scene from the movie Dogma. When Bartelby, the exiled angel, cruelly tells Bethany that her ex husband — who left her because she couldn’t have children — lives in wedded bliss and genuine joy with his new wife and their kids, and Kevin Smith’s character lunges at him out of protective anger for Bethany’s sake and has to be held back, presumably because he’d be quickly neutralized by an angel? I like that scene. Because it illustrates two things: 1. using the childlessness of a woman who hasn’t been blessed with that miracle to hurt her is evil. You hear that?


Twice recently I’ve had women do that to me, in different ways, but both times intended to make me feel inferior and shitty about myself. And their men were kind of — wait. Strike that. Absolutely were. — complicit in it. Which brings me to 2. there are still some men who know how evil that is and will instinctively fight someone for it. Even if they are likely to get their booties kicked. And I need to hold on to that. That there still are good men — good people — out there. I forget that a lot. I’ve seen things, man. Grasping and clawing and ruthlessly lying things. And I can get low about it. And this is partly, I think, why I like music and film and literature so much. That’s where people preserve some of the beauty of humanity. The brutality as well, to be sure. But the stuff that transcends all that, the stuff that we “stay alive for” to borrow a phrase, lives in the arts, both physical and mental. There’s a movie — I actually think it’s National Treasure, oddly — where the female love interest tells the idealist male love interest that no one talks the way he does anymore. “But they think that way,” he replies. And I think that’s true. So I look for it. My hope is that that will matter to someone — to a good man, specifically — sometime soon. And that I’ll have friends that will let me have it. That won’t get in the way, that won’t let their own egos and insecurities ruin it for me. I have great hope that these things will happen.

Speaking of…I don’t easily put myself out there. It’s a little scary for me, and it’s hard for me to process when I do and get treated like it doesn’t matter that I let myself be vulnerable. I’m so careful so much of the time. So, I don’t feel bad for you that things aren’t panning out for you right now, and likely won’t no matter how much you pretend otherwise. You have a little bit of karmic stuff you have to address. You’ll figure it out. Pulling for ya buddy.

On a related note, it comforts me somehow that the guys I know who are seemingly incapable of not messing around on the women they date are the strongest adherents to this idea that a woman must play their waiting game regarding how quickly they, ahem, put out. It’s so funny to me. These women ultimately get treated just as badly as the ones put in the — pardon the expression — smashbox. And maybe worse, because they’ve invested time and emotion into the man who, ultimately, just sees them like he sees every other woman. That’s why I’m fairly — ahem again– efficient as those things go. I want to know who I’m dealing with as quickly as possible if I’ve an interest. Because a man will treat you how he’s going to treat you and I just like to know early what kind of man I’ve got on my hands. But again, I’m probably overly cautious with my interests. See above.

Speaking of raging douches, there was this chick that used to be among one circle of my friends and, after said chick left town, I was informed that she liked to talk a lot of trash about yours truly. Thinking back, there was always this weird tension with this particular group of friends, and I could never quite put my finger on where it came from. Turns out that pump was primed quite a bit in my absence. Lots of eyerolling and “she can’t sit at our lunch table” kind of stuff. Jesus. WHY CAN’T I LEAVE HIGH SCHOOL? I only mention it because I recently became aware of the fact that there are some who still hang onto whatever myth that girl promoted. Let it go, man. I get that, for a time, I was the object of ridicule. But that silly girl has been gone a while now. Try relating to me in a different way. I promise you’ll be glad you did.

Okay, enough of all that. My personal stuff is really boring, right? I just want to get married and have babies. Seriously. Always have. You got the wrong idea, didn’t you? Most people do.

Happy birthday to the Magna Carta. Brilliance should always be commemorated.

Um…this wasn’t hard to figure but I have been pulling my ballet posture out a lot more lately after reading it.

No way this is a myth. Because trust me: women are way meaner to women than any man ever is. And I mean I’ve had men do horrible things at work. But really, come to think of it, they were kind of girly men.

Speaking of, it was tremendously satisfying that another victim of one of those awful men at work went on to do great, really great, work. While that awful man? Meh. He languishes in mediocrity. Sorry, but it’s absolutely true and I defy anyone to challenge that.

You want to know what The Twerp was like? Here. This is pretty close.

Ahhhhhhh….The madness of MacBeth and the murderous ambition of the Lady. Out, out damn spot. This one should be a good one.

I hope it never makes me paranoid, but I get why Nixon felt this way. Again with the catty and petty high school. You pretty much just have to laugh at it and not take it all so seriously, something I think Nixon wasn’t great at.

All the talk of leadership lately made this a pretty good read.


Want to know what’s wrong with Baltimore? Compare this story to this one.

At some point, I feel certain, I’ll write about this. I’m not sure it’s done. Wait…I know it’s not.

And now for some awesome. Great song, great band, great cover, great guest appearance. All around good.

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