have a great time j

Holidays with Holly

There are so many movies based on spending holidays with family. It is such a strange time...going back home. I find it difficult. Coming from divorced parents, you always have to figure out how much time will be allotted to each house. I don't know which movies I prefer most...but maybe the comedies put things more into perspective. I own Home for the Holidays with Holly Hunter. Great flick. As I get older I do find that I seem to become less and less like my family. At least I think. Maybe I just feel that way. We don't identify with eachothers' lives. Small town Kansas vs big city Chicago...that's hard. I'm learning lately that I need to see things in a different light. When given the opportunity, I usually find fault in the flaws. I should embrace the flaws and let the differences serve as comedy. We can't change anyone. We may not understand a single thing our siblings do...why they do this or that, say this or that. We may look at our parents in awe of how we ever survived childhood--but we did! We survived and now we have a chance to mold the life we have now. It seems as if I ask for weight to be put upon me when I meet someone. "What are we talkin' here...5lbs, 20lbs?...how much are you going to weigh on me?" Not a good way of doing it. Why not let people keep their weight, their pasts, their present problems and we either listen or try to ease it for them by just being around instead of trying to take it on? (I'm advising myself here.) Going home for the holidays could be ok if we saw something simple: I get to go home soon and they will be left here. (hehehe) Seriously though, our history is made every day. Any future baggage we have is what we pack ourselves daily. You can't unpack it...but you don't have to start. I've been feeling a bit heavy lately. The holidays cause such a commotion within me for some reason. It creates lonliness in a lot of us. I know that it can for me. The reality of me is that I create more lonliness and sadness in myself than anyone else. Fact is, I have a family that loves me and I have insanely cool and amazing friends that I am in contact with all of the time. Life is good. Time to celebrate the people in our lives. I read this GREAT quote that Matthew MacConahay's mother would say to him in the mornings when he was cranky..."You come out here when you see the rose in the vase instead of the dust on the table."

Nice words to live by...but in the spirit of making fun of the insane times of holiday get togethers...I'll leave you with some memorable quotes from Home for the Holidays: (watch it!)

Adele: I'm giving thanks that we don't have to go through this for another year. Except we do, because those bastards went and put Christmas right in the middle, just to punish us.

Claudia: We don't have to like each other. We're family.

Claudia: Nobody means what they say on Thanksgiving, Mom. You know that. That's what the day's supposed to be all about, right? Torture.

A few of my holiday picks:

-The Nightmare Before Christmas
-National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
-The Myth of Fingerprints
-Elf (didn't think I'd like it but laughed OUT LOUD many times)
-Holiday Inn
-White Christmas
-Any Charlie Brown special...thanksgiving, christmas, halloween...you just can't go wrong!
-It's a Wonderful Life (of course)
-Gremlins (yep...based around Christmas!)
-Planes, Trains and Automobiles
-Die Hard (Christmas again!)

yeah, notice that I DIDN'T put down A Christmas Story...can't stand that movie!!

crash into me

I've been growing into things lately. Into books, into movies, into poetry and into lyrics. I don't mean to shy away from my normal way of blogging, but lately, I find that the words I am searching for are not my own. I can't seem to find my way right now and when this happens, I always look to others to help me. So, I've called upon women folk singers to help me out. (There is actually an on-line radion station that features them.) I grew up with folk music. My mother listened to Joan Baez, Peter,Paul and Mary and Jim Croce to name a few. I listened to some Bob Dylan on a road trip recently. I've listened to the Indigo Girls for years, but I'd never really listened to Ani DiFranco. Ani is 35, my sister's age basically, so I guess I'm reaching for a voice of an older sister. She seems like someone I will cling to. So, even though I've seen her around, I was just only introduced to her today. Until I figure out how to find myself within myself, I'll continue to find comfort in others who have felt similarly. One of my favourite authors, May Sarton writes that experiencing life with others, talking about it, living it--everything...is what it is all about. She writes (I'm paraphrasing) that coming into contact with another person is literally like crashing into them...it takes so much out of you. I've always gone about life in full throttle, not realizing that I might be getting ahead of myself. Lately, although I couldn't feel it, I was too far ahead was pulled back. It seems my life is either moving too fast or not moving at all. It is a constant floor it, brake, floor it, brake motion. At times it seems like I have whiplash. I either can't hear or I won't listen. But, it's time.
These lyrics spoke to me today...so I'm documenting them. I was sitting at my desk and the words just started flowing and I finally started listening. So, for those who have known Ani, thank God. For those who were like me...

Meet Ani.

"Falling Is Like This"

You give me that look that's like laughing
with liquid in your mouth
like you're choosing between choking
and spitting it all out
like you're trying to fight gravity
on a planet that insists
that love is like falling
and falling is like this

Feels like reckless driving when we're talking
It's fun while it lasts, and it's faster than walking
But no one's going to sympathize when we crash
They'll say "you hit what you head for, you get what you ask"
and we'll say we didn't know, we didn't even try
one minute there was road beneath us, the next just sky

I'm sorry I can't help you, I cannot keep you safe
I'm sorry I can't help myself, so don't look at me that way
we can't fight gravity on a planet that insists
that love is like falling
and falling is like this.

love without a net

So, 13 years ago today I made love for the first time. I remember it pretty vividly. It was amazing and I cried...but yes, I was too young for it. I don't regret the fact that it happened or who it was with at all. I was desperately in love and he was with me. Nothing matches that heat. Given and received with the same intensity. It should definitely be handled with care. It can burn you in the far reaches of your heart that can never be healed or it can expand your heart so that you are able to feel more than you ever thought possible. I've always thought, the more love you have, the more there is to give. My first love was out of control at times...too intense for how old I was. But it did show me what it was like to have someone love you as much as they possibly could. Love without fear, without limits, without any type of safety net at all. It's scary...but it's amazing.

What is the point in loving half way?


"somebody"

I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone who'll stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
He'll get my support
He will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general
Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
He will hear me out
And won't easily be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact he'll often disagree
But at the end of it all
He will understand me

I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and with every breath
Someone who'll help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like
I don't want to be tied
To anyone's stings
I'm carefully trying to steer clear
Of those things
But when I'm asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly
And things like this
Make me sick
In a case like this
I'll get away with it.

-depeche

REM lyric in my head.....hairshirt

I am not the type of dog
That could keep you waiting
For no good reason
Run a carbon-black test on my jaw
And you will find it's all been said before

I can swing my megaphone and long arm the rest
It's easier and better
To just beat it from the chest
Of desire

I could walk into this room
And the waves of conversation are enough
To knock you down in the undertow
So alone so alone in my life
Feed me banks of light
And hang your hairshirt on the lowest rung
It's a beautiful life
And I can hang my hairshirt
Away up high in the attic of the wrong dog's life chest
Or bury it at sea
All my life I've searched for this

Here I am here I am in your life
It's a beautiful life
My life
It's a beautiful life
Your life

You do know that Dorothy went from sleeping in poppies to popping too many sleeping pills, right?

It seems that I meet people all the time and they all eventually get around to asking you where you are from. When I say I am from Kansas...9 times out of 10, they say, "oh, like Dorothy." "Yes...like Dorothy," I say. I wonder how many people wouldn't know about Kansas at all if it weren't for that movie...so I guess I should thank Mr. Baum. Being associated with the movie is sort of interesting. It came out in 1939, the same year as Gone with the Wind. A big year for the cinema! Anyway, back to Dorothy and the tornado that carries her away to the land of Oz. Already, Kansas is seen as dreary. I didn't live in a black and white town, but it wasn't technicolor either. The movie's portrayal of a tornado forever scarred me however--I am absolutely terrified of them and have nightmares about them all of the time. In this case, it seems that the tornado served as the key element in Dorothy's sojourn to Oz. She spends the entire movie searching for something she already has. It seems that that is a popular message. Isn't that what Frank Capra wanted George Bailey to understand? In "It's a Wonderful Life,"Clarence shows George what life would be like without him. George and Dorothy both realize not to take those around them for granted and how incredible their lives actually are. It seems that people really need a wake up call. Same thing in A Christmas Carol. Scrooge has to see the pain and suffering he causes to finally figure out what an ass he is. The Grinch has to come face to face with ultimate kindess to make his heart grow. Let's see...who else needs help figuring this stuff out? Harry has to lose Sally before he realizes she is the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. The hair band "Cinderella" has it down, "Don't Know What You've Got 'Til It's Gone." Isn't that the shits? The 80's had a ball with this concept. "St. Elmo's Fire," "About Last Night" and "She's Having a Baby" all had characters that needed the painful episodes of either one leaving or the idea that one could die that make them snap back into shape. A great example of not only figuring out what you had, but going out and making changes in order to show growth as a person to the other is "Something's Got to Give." I'm not going to detail these movies...if you want to understand, watch them.
Why am I writing about this? Guess I just got on a tangent because of the whole Dorothy-Kansas thing. Thanks GOD she had those slippers, huh? Man, that could have been a bitch. Why were her pals looking for a heart, a brain and the "noyve"? (that's "nerve" for those who haven't seen the movie.) Never quite got that. I was a film major and still I don't get it. I guess if I really thought about it, I'd understand...however, I DID find a very interesting tidbit on the internet (wish I'd come up with it) that I'll share with you in regards to the film:

An interesting sidenote: the plot of The Wizard of Oz has often been used, rightly or wrongly, as a Parable on Populism in the Gilded Age, to explain the political situation at the time of its writing, including the 1896 Presidential election, and the turn-of-the-century Populist movement. Here are a few of the allegorical connections, most of which were originally recognized by Henry M. Littlefield, and published in the American Quarterly in 1967:

• the Scarecrow - the wise, but naive western farmers
• the Tin Woodman - the dehumanized, Eastern factory workers
• the Wicked Witch of the East - the Eastern industrialists and bankers who controlled the people (the Munchkins)
• the Good Witch of the North - New England, a stronghold of Populists
• the Good Witch of the South - the South, another Populist area
• the Wizard - President Grover Cleveland, or Republican Presidential candidate William McKinley
• the Cowardly Lion - Democratic-Populist Presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan
• Dorothy - a young Mary Lease; or the good-natured American people
• Dorothy's silver shoes - represents the 'silver standard' (acc. to the Populists, "the free and unlimited coinage of silver")
• Toto - the 'teetotaling' Prohibitionists (or Temperance Party), an important part of the 'silverite' coalition
• the Yellow Brick road - the 'gold standard' - paved with gold, but leads nowhere
• the land of Oz - oz. is the standard abbreviation for ounce, in accordance with the other symbolism
• Emerald City - Washington, D.C., with a greenish color associated with greenbacks
• the Poppy field - the threat of anti-imperialism

So far, this blog has had no particular rhyme or reason to it. Sorry about that. Think of it as my Faulkneresque way of linking my thoughts together upon hearing of my direct association with Dorothy and her wild goose chase of trying to find the better things in life by hooking up with friends, going into the unknown, stopping to get high and then finally realizing that the entire trip was just a dream...leading her right back where she started.

....wait a minute.

You Are Everything

If you don't listen to music, you are missing a part of your soul. That is exactly how I feel. Unlike books and movies, music triggers emotions that probably only smell can match. It serves as a transport. When I hear certain songs, my heart remembers too. It remembers if it was in pain, or if it was in love...if it was searching...or it ties it to a certain person, even if that person is you. This is one of the many songs that seems to practically knock me out when I listen to it.
I'm 14, a freshman in high school. I have no idea what is going on around me. I love my friends more than anything. I've found my niche--but I'm lonely. My best friend moved away and I miss feeling really understood by someone. When I was a kid travelling back and forth between Topeka and St. John, KS to visit my dad, I would lay in the backseat, in the dark, and watch the stars go by. My sister and my mom were in the front seats--I was alone...yet calm. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the engine...and for a moment, I was happy and safe. When this song came out, I felt that all over again. I heard it on my first visit to see Kortney. I couldn't wait to see her... to feel safe and understood again. During such a confusing time in my life, she was the closest thing to a life line that I had...still is.

Enjoy.

Sometimes I feel like I can't even sing
I'm very scared for this world
I'm very scared for me
Eviscerate your memory
Here's a scene
You're in the back seat laying down
The windows wrap around
To sound of the travel and the engine
All you hear is time stand still in travel
And feel such peace and absolute
The stillness still that doesn't end
But slowly drifts into sleep
The stars are the greatest thing you've ever seen
And they're there for you
For you alone you are the everything

I think about this world a lot and I cry
And I've seen the films and the eyes
But I'm in this kitchen
Everything is beautiful
And she is so beautiful
She is so young and old
I look at her and I see the beauty
Of the light of music
The voices talking somewhere in the house
Late spring and you're drifting off to sleep
With your teeth in your mouth
You are here with me
You are here with me
You have been here and you are everything

Sometimes I feel like I can't even sing
I'm very scared for this world
I'm very scared for me
Eviscerate your memory
Here's a scene
You're in the back seat laying down
The windows wrap around
To sound of the travel and the engine
All you hear is time stand still in travel
And feel such peace and absolute
The stillness still that doesn't end
But slowly drifts into sleep
The greatest thing you've ever seen
And they're there for you
For you alone you are the everything
For you alone you are the everything

Uninvited

Following him home without an invite, I got out of my car and walked up to him...he said nothing, he just held out his hand. I took it and we started to walk together. We stole moments far before we kissed. Everything led up to it...as soon as it happened, it seemed we passed "go." It was a brush fire, but created moments that I still measure others up against.

During "Lawrence of Arabia", I said I was warm...he reached over me to open the window. His shirt pulled from his pants showing his tight stomach. I slipped my hand under his shirt and touched him. He turned his head and fell into me.

Lying in his bed for the first time, after a night of talking, he told me that we shouldn't kiss...I looked at his face...kind. His voice, deep. His eyes took me in. I leaned in. That was it. From that moment on, we were together...I just didn't know it yet.

Drunk off of many, many screwdrivers...we all crowded around a table in the disco. The music blaring in our ears. I wanted to do something crazy...be someone else and show that I could be different from the girl he knew in Kansas. We were overseas...and somehow it gave me the feeling that I could do anything and it would be forgotten--I looked at my friend...and leaned over and slowly kissed her. He couldn't believe his eyes...I couldn't believe the fact that she kissed me back. Twice.

We talked for hours it seemed about how we shouldn't kiss. I wanted to. I think he did too. I don't think he ever would have taken advantage of the opportunity. I swung my leg around him and wrapped him between my thighes..."are you ready?" I bent down and put my lips to his...his hands immediately came to my hips. Butterflies fluttered violently and I could feel my head start to spin. His hands cradled my face...he was slow and soft. Not at all what I expected. I kept my eyes shut...pulled away from his face to see his reaction. Opening my eyes, I saw him...smiling. He kissed me again.

My heart was pounding as we walked through the parking garage towards his car. The conversation was still going round and round in my head. Did he say what I think he said? Was I imagining all of this? For months I'd denied my feelings...I was in love with two people. Did he just reciprocate my feelings? We finally got to his car. He stopped at the door. I had to know. I called his name. He turned and I didn't give him a chance to say a word, I kissed him. He kissed me back. "I shouldn't have done that..." I said. "Why?..." His question relieved me.

After the play, he and his friends took me to a bar in the neighborhood. I had crushed on him for weeks. We drank and laughed. He put his hand on my hip at one point. I just wanted it to stay there. We decided to go to his house...I sent his friends out to get a cab. "We'll be out in a minute." I turned to him, "Before we go, I just want to see what I'm in for. If this doesn't work, we won't waste our time flirting all evening..." He laughed. I pulled him in and kissed him. Least to say, it worked.

Stolen or clandestine kisses are exciting and fantastical...but I'd like to be invited...

The Unbearable Lightness of Being in Love

Today I realized that I can't post this as often as I'd like because I put too much pressure on myself to have little works of art--that which never seem to happen. I post just to post. Maybe I should turn this around. In order for me to free up my thoughts, I've decided to move them somewhere else. However, I'll post here as often as I can with things I feel I can share to the masses. I have plenty of ramblings that I can post here in order to separate my thoughts. So, enjoy! I'll post later today...maybe a movie review? Maybe just a poem I find that means a lot to me. In fact, I have one for today...

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

I found this today...for some reason, I was thinking about the stubborness of love. I just read a book dealing with the pushes and pulls...the weight of it...its unbearable lightness at times. This reminds me of the scene in The English Patient when he looks at her after she ends the affair and says, "I want you to know...I don't miss you yet." She pauses and says, "You will."

It sheds light on the tugs of war we have with the ones we love. It seems to demonstrate more immature love, than mature. It reminds me of my feelings of "flight." Everyone has them I suppose. I just tended to act on them more than others. Enjoy...maybe it will remind you of something, who knows.

more to come...

paraguay, quench, pepperoni, destiny, safe

With me, it seems as if the grass is always greener in some foreign land. I grew up thinking I would live in London writing mystery and horror novels. The dense fog and lantern lit streets I saw in the movies always made me feel it would be the perfect place to create such macabre work. Instead, my big move was from a small mid-western town to a large mid-western city. Chicago, the land of pizza (pepperoni being my favorite) and Wrigley Field is now home. I go back and forth on whether it is my final destination or not. My gut says no, but I've given up trying to forecast my life. Unfortunately, I don't believe in destiny. I believe in good and bad decisions. The trick is knowing how to distinguish between the two. Many people make safe decisions instead of taking risks. I've done both. Right now for instance, I have the chance to take a risk. I can look into going to a foreign country and teaching (something I've always wanted to do) or I can stay in Chicago. I could fly to China, Africa or Paraguay and finally live outside the box. I could start anew. I could become the "worldly" woman I've always wanted to be. I can always find reasons to leave a place. But, in this case, there are reasons to stay. At the moment, I feel split in two. I yearn to have my traveling thirst be finally quenched; yet also I know that currently, my heart is here. There is no stability in either choice. Both are unknown, neither beckon me specifically, and although I can create a future in my head, there are no promises. It seems that I've always been paralyzed when it comes to the heart. I romanticize my life and what it could be. It is very possible that I could end up on the London streets begging for toppins to give to the birds. Or I could end up in Chicago with my heart ripped out thinking of how I should have left when I had the chance. I recently watched Sliding Doors. (If you haven't seen it, rent it...) It is mind boggling how one second can change the rest of your life. One decision, one kiss, one discussion...pretty amazing. So, maybe I should stop playing it safe, move to Paraguay, leave the city of pepperoni pizza, quench my thirst for adventure and give the idea of destiny a whirl. If one kiss changed me the moment it happened...what could a plane ticket do?

RTFM

(If you are confused by the title...I apologize. I didn't know what it was either. An engineer told me, so I guess I recommend asking one.)

Look me in the eye when you talk to me. And don't let it be a water bug conversation, I hate those. Dive deep, even deeper...that is the only place I know where to swim. Avoid words that cause confusion. Words that make your sentences vague or easily manipulated from one meaning to another--"yet, I think, right now, love, close, should, probably, sooner, later, sooner or later, maybe, at the time, logically, etc." These words don't work with me...especially when they are put together to form a thought about a feeling. "I felt (expressed emotion)at the time." "I'm not ready for something like this...yet." I'm harsh, I expect others to be. Just say, "I don't want something like this (still vague, but oh well) with you."

When shaving, use a blade sometimes, not just an electric razor. There is an art to it that is sexy.

Collogne is nice...I've always said that the way a man smells can increase the attraction at least 30%.

Laziness, bad breath, awkward silences, an obnoxious laugh, being unkept, drinking too much, liking Bush politics at this point in time (well, most of the time), being close minded, hating, not aware of your surroundings and not being straight forward about your feelings--really kill the mood.

Pull out her chair. Make a motion to stand when she gets up from the table. Occasionally open the car door. Three simple, yet overlooked gestures.

If you don't like The Beatles, at least respect their music. (but we'd still never date)

A few literary or lyrical references that I'd prefer one know. "The Ides of March." "To thine ownself be true." "What is essential is invisible to the eye." "Sonnet 116" "The movement you need is on your shoulder." "In my life, I love you more." "I had a farm in Africa." "To be great is to be misunderstood." "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds." "...the most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what's in between..." "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter."

5 works that need to be read to understand me.
The Little Prince
The Phantom Tollbooth
Journal of a Solitude
Ode to a Grecian Urn
A Widow For One Year

Things that are blue. his eyes. my eyes. 1970 Ford Truck. his shirt. my comforter. wendy's painting. my pretend house on evergreen ave. a SJHS color. a KUJH color.

Don't like sushi, indian food, mediterranean, greek, tapas, white castle, fish, muscles, thai (i don't think), onions, mushrooms, garlic, cooked carrots or tomatoes...just give me a steak.

I raise my voice when I get upset.
I cry when I'm hurt.
I cry alone, at night, in my room. (only 3 people will get that one.)

Qualities I look for in a man:(not in any order)
Not only should he have a witty sense of humor, but he can make others laugh whole heartedly. Ambitious (to a point), has laugh lines, kind, can be romantic, generous, intellectual, loyal, honest, open, has the ability to relax, takes risks, traveler, loves music and movies, loves life and finally, can read a map.

The above makes me think of the Banks children writing out their ad for a new nanny. (Mary Poppins fit the bill.) Why can't that happen in real life? I guess I have to fit someone else's...hmmm.

More to come. I wonder, does the list of qualities that you want become longer as you get older and know more of what you want...or does it get shorter when you realize what you may have to settle for? I'm not much of a settler. Plus, I could name at least 3 men that fit that bill. One I've never come close to dating. They're out there!

Does art immitate life?

Love:
Harry says, "I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
Nicole starts singing to Ewan at the end of Moulin Rouge to make him turn around.
Barbara Streisand brushes the hair out of Robert Redford's eyes in The Way We Were.
Alamsy comes back for Katharine Clifton in the English Patient.
The King puts his hand around Anna's waist in The King and I.
I love the witty and written love in You've Got Mail.
The stubborn love in Far and Away and Reality Bites.
The seductive and corrupt passion in 9 1/2 Weeks.
I want him to stand out in the rain holding up a boom box like Lloyd Dobler.
I want him to sweet talk me into bed (of course with the accent) like Dennis Quaid in The Big Easy.
I want to be the Pretty Woman.
I want love to be intellectual and spontaneous like Before Sunset.
I want to be able to choose between Ben and Noel.
I want my name to be the tattoo on Johnny Depp's arm.
I want my body to be a wonderland.
I want "Maybe I'm Amazed" to be about me.
I want to be the muse of Shakespeare's 116 sonnet.


He bought me a rose a day for twelve days.
He declared his love in front of a crowd.
The band played our song just for us....and we danced.
He took my hand to help me out of a car.
He took my hand to have me follow.
We spent nights under the stars on a deserted country road.
We biked over the Golden Gate bridge.
He drove 4 hours for 2 hours alone with me.
He stayed my friend so that we wouldn't stop talking.
He stood up to my father.
He wrote me love letters.
He understood The Little Prince.
He took me to see Paul McCartney.
He wrote me a story.
He wrote me a song.

10 men told me they were in love with me. I believe 4 of them.

Jammed Packed Crammed into my heart

Dark hair, dark eyes, brooding, head tilts when talking, eyes twinkle, yet they also are seen through a constant squint, a constant slight sucking on the bottom lip whilst licking both constantly. "is he wanting to kiss me? is this just something he does?" you keep them guessing. Your looks come up from a bowed head--as if you are peering--not sure if you are wanting to be seen. you are distinctive, you are tender--slow...soft and hard at the same time. you aren't "romantic" but you will dance in the kitchen, you will notice the moon in relation to the sears tower, you appreciate skylines and take notice of the lines of a woman. You bring our song to me in a frame. Then there is what you can't help. the women of your past are haunted. no other man seems to measure up. Women go into therapy. They create a world in which you don't measure up to your memory. Good thing we aren't dating, I'd break the pattern you have going.
You are private, yet at times extroverted--that's alluring. You read, you think, you work until late hours--causing you to be elusive and hard to get a hold of. Your work is known to be challenging, so you can always blame it for not getting back to people. You aren't flashy...but you are stylish. You are known not to rsvp--no one knows whether to expect you or not. There are few people in your life...few that you hold close--this makes you in demand to those who want to get to know you. Shows you are selective--that you spend time watching and learning. You are cautious with your emotions and actions. Things are not given without thought--women feel chosen. All this adds to your mystique. Nothing I write here will give it away. Everyone knows you or knows a you. You are a friend that girls can't decide whether to introduce to their other friends or keep for themselves. But you won't allow yourself to be kept. You break the hearts you created beats for. Your own heart stopped beating--and you still live. Something wasn't done with you. It's the kindness and laughter. It's the heat you create. It's the apathy you can convey--it may mean nothing...or it may mean everything. Girls stand out in the street for you. They peer into the windows where you live. They call just to hear your voice on the phone. I used to leave messages on your voicemail--long messages just to talk to you because I couldn't deal with comments you might make during my monologues. You have tattoos that mean something to you and nothing to others. Your back, your arm, your ankles. They say nothing about you. You love the music that now seduces me when I hear it. John Coltrane makes me weak. The Wolf plays and I still cry. A bottle of red, a bottle of white makes me drunk. Coldplay makes me sway.

You're no one I've ever dated. You're every guy I've dated.

The Big Blog Theory

And so it begins.