I grew up hoping a man would come along, in a blazer with a shadow of a beard, and change my life. And one did. It just wasn’t at all how I’d imagined it. I had to feel and wade through the bad to resurface into the beauty and joy of my now. I don’t need anyone to swoop in and change my life. I just wouldn’t mind terribly finding someone who will wash my strawberries and love me full of snot, freckled, and red faced. He’ll make me smile through the tears. He’ll be my grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. He’ll be my home.
I spend hours rummaging through closets looking for pants that don’t make my ass look fat. Then, I’ll watch friends devour fried combo dishes doused with ketchup and sprinkled with salt as I tolerate cottage cheese or hard-boiled eggs. Okay, that hasn’t happened in years, but still. I do it all to look thin, just to find a man who’ll love me even if I’m fat.
I’ve been drinking wine for years. When I inhale, I don’t smell apricots or lialac, mushrooms or mineral. I smell wine. Each one has a personality, built of characteristics: fruity, bold, long finish, supple, nice legs. These aren’t come on lines.
Drunk dialing. I fcuking love it. You know why? It gives me license to follow every random flying emotion, abandoning any sense of reason. And it affords me the ability to be thoroughly pathologic. I can trail every other brain synapse that has always led me to destination wrong. I stop caring about “wrong” and do what I want.
When people say, “what I want” they mean, “what I feel,” not “what I think.” Cause we wouldn’t need liquid courage to follow “right.” We wouldn’t need it to keep up with “think.” Emotions are sloppy drunks that swallow. They don’t worry about disease or calories; they’re made of passion and avoid safe like edges of cliffs.
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So stop being safe and waiting for him to come to you. Go out and get him. And if you haven't being finding the right ones around, maybe you have been checking the wrong places.
Where do you live, Tom? Maybe she should try there. You dick.
Stephanie knows exactly what she wants. I have no doubt about that. If you have been reading what she writes, then you would know that as well. Just take a look at her list of qualities that she is looking for in a guy. Not once does she talk about how he looks, what he wears, or what he drinks.
However, if you did read her other posts, you would know that she does eliminate guys because of those things. She has written that she wants a guy who wears a Hermes tie or JM Weston shoes. He should not drink beer or dark liquor, but should drink something clear (preferably vodka). Just read her post, the Chase.
So what if he doesn't wear a Hermes tie or drinks something that has more color than a dirty martini. Does that make him a bad person? Does that eliminate him from possibly being the guy that she is looking for?
The problem is that she spends too much time waiting for him to come along. And by him, I mean the guy who wears the Hermes tie and JM Weston shoes and drinks martinis. She eliminates all of the other guys, who might have every single quality that is on her list that she never actually meets because she has stereotyped the person based upon meaningless things. This is not isolated to Steph, because everyone of us does it.
Yes, there are a lot of jerks out there and I am sure she has met her fair share of them, but there are also a lot of great people out there that we all miss out on. The thing we all need to do is to break that pattern. We need to be open to everything that comes along (or mostly everything) because you will never know what the person is like until you get to know them. The prime example is just looking at Steph. She is beautiful, but the person would not have a clue that she is intelligent and incredibly talented without getting to know her.
There are times that she appears to be unapproachable. So why does she come across that way? Is it that she just doesn't want to be approached at that point in time, is it because she is surrounded by her friends and just wants to hang out with them or the guy is too intimidated to approach her in front of her friends, or she wants to be approached but does not give off that signal?
The guy she wants could be anybody. It could be the unshaven guy in a pair of jeans she sees in Starbucks on a weekend morning, it could be a guy in a Hugo Boss suit, Charles Tyrwhitt tie, and Bruno Magli shoes that she sees on the subway, or it could be someone out at a bar that drinks beer or rum that night instead of a martini. The point is that she should keep her eyes open no matter where she is, how she looks, or what time it is. She should not be too selective by how he is dressed or what he drinks. All of us should not be too selective.
Sometimes you just need to take charge and seize the moment. Sometimes, we miss these opportunities because we are preoccupied with something else on our mind.
Rather than calling someone a dick, you should just take the time to think about what you read rather than just trying to be a jackass. And if you had any guts at all, you would post under your name so the world knows who you are rather than acting timid like a mouse.
NYC mice are not timid.
"Emotions are sloppy drunks that swallow".
Is that the quote of the day or what?
Did I miss something about mice?
Steve
Drunk dialing??? Did someone say drunk dialing????
There ARE, as many can attest, several degrees of the drunk dial. The problem is, the nation's major cellular providers REFUSE to include these in their users manual. So, here are the basics:
EDD: Exuberant drunk dialing. The next day, you remember you called, you said/did something goofy, oft times flirtatious, and the recipient almost always welcomes.
EDD/M: EDD with music. Almost always done in a car, so, like EDD, is not full-on drunk, but a product of the energized buzz. Frank Sinatra (The Reprise Years, CD #2 is a staple). Usually on a Thursday, Friday, or Saturday, oft times as a precursor to a social engagement, or immediately afterward as you drive home. Riskier on the next-day scale, in terms of the recipient welcoming. If EDD and EDD/M become "message saved" by recipient, it's a home run.
DD: The basic. You think you called, think you know what you said, and have to wait until the next meeting with the recipient to confirm.
DD/C: DD with a confession of sorts, possibly of personal feelings. Very risky.
WRDD: DD, but called the wrong number. A mistake. A stupid mistake if you don't realize until he next day when you don't get a reply, ask the recipient why not, and have to confirm in your "dialed calls" log that, indeed, you dialed wrong.
DD/R: DD with a rant. (Getting to the dark side of drunk dialing.)
BHDD: Black hole drunk dialing. The nadir of drunk dialing, wherein you know you called, know what you said, but neither you nor the recipient acknowledge (ever). This adds the tension.
"I do it all to look thin, just to find a man who’ll love me even if I’m fat."
this line made me stand up and clap right at my desk at work, fantastic, then my officemate told me to sit down and shut up, I hate that guy.
You tell him Tom. Nothing worse than a complianing guy who doesn't have the balls to use his name. And by the way, "THe guy" might even drink Captain Morgan's and get really drunk on beer at Yankee games…..