I'm back!

Hi guys
I'm back! with new stories about new douche bags! Yay! I have some great stories that i will post soon. speak soon!
xo
Ho

It's been a while...

Oh my god. So tonight I was im-ing with some guy. And he was pretty corny but he was nice and interesting enough so I thought I would chat with him. He made one of those not funny "don't worry I won't tell the trivia police" unnecessary jokes when I admitted to not knowing something uninteresting and barely relevant. I grimaced.

But the coup de grace came at the end of the convo when he hit me with a double whammy: a knock knock joke followed by an emoticon happy face. I mean a knock knock joke is bad enough. But it was a particularly bad one. And a smiley face emoticon is bad enough, but a self congratulating emoticon is the worst.

Am I a SWANS? are you a SWANS? Let's find out!

I may be a SWAN! I mentioned Dr. Christine B. Whelan, who wrote Why Smart Men Marry Smart Women (Simon & Schuster, 2006). For an author of this kind of "literature" Whelan seems pretty smart, which is what, I guess, gives her licence to choose the title of her book. Then again, she lives in Iowa city, which isn't a very smart choice. She could be a smart and a masochist... Anyhoo, Dr. Whelan created a great anagram. SWANS: Smart Woman Acheiver No Spouse.

Not sure if you're a SWANS? Take the quiz. Then let's check back in a few hours to share results. This is fun.

The Chris Mystery is Solved... And the cliche is proven to be true

Oh, I meant to tell you this. Remember Chris? The scientist Chris ( not the aggressive kisser/fan of mozzarella stick flavored chips Chris) ? Well, if you do, you will remember being totally confused, as I was, by his behavior. His seeming interest followed by... no follow up. Well, I met both Chrises through my friend Betty. And Betty just told me something interesting that she found out a few months ago.... Apparently, Betty ran into Chris and feigned ignorance of our date, casually asking "Oh, did you ever go out with my friend?" Chris replied something along the lines of "Oh yeah, we got dinner. She's really awesome. But, you know, she's really smart and intellectual and into politics. And after work, I just wanna, you know, relax." The irony, of course, is that this was my politics-light self. My appropriate for a smart yet uncurious scientist who does not stray from the right brain (pardon the false binary). If I hadn't toned it down, I wonder, would his head have exploded?

It's kind of cool to get this info. Of course, it helps that I wasn't madly in love with him or even very into him. I'm unclear whether this falls under the "men are intimidated by smart women" cliche, or whether he's just kind of boring... Thoughts?

Of course, Dr. Christine B. Whelan would argue that smart men dig smart women. Hmmmmm. I don't know

HO-use

So, it's been a while. Sorry guys. I hope you've been able to deal.

I find it so appealing to stay in and not go out, but that's not, contrary to popular belief, a good way to meet people. I think that discovering and falling in House, the show and man, has made this worse. I really think I could spend the rest of my life hanging out with Greg House. Which is not healthy. He's a) not emotionally available b) a cripple (emotionally, haha, you almost got be for being ableist) and c) not real.

Anyway, I've tried to force myself to go out more. I just can't divorce the feeling of going out from the feeling of being on the prowl-- which I am, I guess, but in a kind of inactive lazy way. And then I feel all this pressure to come back with a catch. Not like I'd literally come home wi with a hook in his mouth. Or with a guy I was carrying by biting his neck like a tiger. That would be funny. Honestly, one of the best things about being in a relationship is being able to stay in, without the boyf, and not feel like you are actively sabotaging your chances of procreation.

So... let's see... what to report. There was this dude named Joe I met at a party a while ago who was cool and seemed interested in me. We did the facebook e-mail thing back and forth for a while but then that died off. I think it was actually my turn to email back. But it's hard to sustain and e-mail thing with someone you've met once. Maybe I'll reach out, out of the blue to him.

Then I met this guy Bryan at a party I went to with my friend Willa, who I spoke to for 5 minutes, but for whatever fantastic (as in fantasy, not great) or pheromonal reason, I felt I had a "connection with." I added him on Facebook AND added a message to the add. He accepted but didn't even respond to the message. LAME. That may actually be worse than not accepting or an outright rejection. It's just tacky and makes me feel like our facebook friendship is meaningless. I feel cheap. Whatevs. I think he's in love with Willa, anyway, who talked to him for 30 minutes. And, of course, she has a boyfriend. Ain't that always the way it goes. So he goes in the "dead to me" box.

More updates later. I think you'll be hearing from me a lot more because at least if I can write about things, then the XY terrorists haven't total won.

p.s. I have no idea who this Silvia woman is. But I wanted to demonstrate the facebook add + message combo and this is the best thing I found on google images.

Ho, Ho, Ho is back, Just in Time for the Holidays

Hi fans,
I am sooo sorry for being derelict in my blogging duties. I realize I need to get bag to blogging because 1) my fans need me. And 2) I need to force myself to date. And the only way I can justify that is by getting some kind of material from it. That will save me from thinking I'm wasting time and will also make me want to date to blog.

Let's see... nothing really to report, except my friends are dropping like flies (if flies dropped into marriage). It seems like everyone is engaged. WTF! My love life has been blah. I'm kinda feeling blah about it. But not sad. More blah than sad.

Hopefully when I report next, I will have something blog worthy.

For now, I wanted to just show you yet another corny as all hell quote from Leonardo , remember him? He finally went away on one of those annoying trips to an Eastern country where non-Easterners like to find themselves (and where, ironically, many of the the Eastern natives would rather not live). I'm impressed he got his at together enough to go, actually. Anyway, he sent a mass e-mail that said the following

Lo prometido: fotos
Porque los viajes no empiezan cuando te subes al avión, ni terminan cuando aterrizas.
Porque no está todo lo que vi, ni lo que viví, obvio; pero algo es algo y peor es nada ;O)
Namaste!

Translation

As promised: the photos
Because travels don't begin when you board the plain, nor do they end when you land.
Because this isn't everything I saw, nor lived, obviously; but something is something and worse is nothing.
;O)
Namaste!

Note:

• the Leonardian emoticons, for which he is famous.
• the poetic content of the e-mail
• the poetic formatting of the e-mail, which is spaced out like a stanza.

Blind Booty Call

So the other day a really strange thing happened. 

I have a friend, Willa, whose colleague, Jake, has on multiple occasions commented on my looks, which he considers good, if you know what I mean. He was coming into town and we were going to meet. It was a friendly thing more than anything else. Or so I thought...

We were going to have dinner on Sunday. That Saturday night, however, I got 7 texts from him and 5 phone calls from him, many of which were after 2AM. I appreciated his tenacity, but was kind of disgusted. We had never even met. I was really tempted to tell him o come on over. I would then grab a fat suit (which, I would have, hypothetically, hanging in my closet, like every girl does), put said fat suit on and then put on some sexy negligee (which I would have in theory, in my drawers-- ha ha no pun intended. I can't keep up with my subconscious). Then, when he got there, 

I would coyly open the door. Since we've never met, for all he knows I gained a million pounds from when the photos he saw of me were taken. But I didn't. I just asked him to stop calling me. I figured he wouldn't even call the next day because he'd be so embarrassed. But I was wrong...

Ben there, done that!

OK peops, so I'm ready to write about Ben. Ben really is different from the other guys. Actually, he's different from the other guys I've been interested in. But he's the "other guys" that girls are referring to in movies when they say "you're not like the other guys." Speaking arithmetically, Ben = "the other guys" if "the other guys" = overt assholes/ players. I tend to go for the sweet guys with sad eyes and shy demeanors. I mean Amiri, Juan, Leonardo, they wound up being assholes in many ways, but they're style was always gentle.

And my Yiddish diagnosis was all off. Ben really isn't very menschy. He may have a mensch to putz split of 1/9. And that's on a good day. But Ben is pretty much a schmuck through and through. There's another appropriate Yiddish word to describe Ben, which is M

acha, a big deal, or really, someone who fancies himself a big shot. Ben is a total macha. He's kinda like a 90 year old Jewish macha caught in the body of a 32 year old Jewish macha. I had the pleasure of witnessing him call several cab companies and say (several times) "and listen, if he gets here within 10 minutes, he's got a big tip in for him." Who says that? Who below 76 says that? And in any year past 1956? Ben, apparently. 

After a week of emailing, texting, and speaking every day that week, we met up on a weekend

 night and had a nice time. And then Ben decided to drop the "I can't do this, you deserve more, I'm going to fuck it up" speech. Of course, one of the downsides of not being an alcoholic (u

nlike Ben) is that I get tipsy, and emotional, and less articulate and intellectual when I drink. Otherwise, having this discussion at 2 in the morning after dinner and drinks would have been totally enjoyable. Well, not really, but I would have been collected enough to say "why would someone like me want to be with a  workaholic, insecure, mean-spirited, depressed narcissist? Remind me? Again, since his asshole is conveniently located on his sleeve, Ben had the boldness to predict he WOULD cheat on me. To which a sober Ho would have responded, "Umm, I thought we would hit it a few times and then your insecure-cockiness would annoy me and you'd say something that would piss me off and hurt my feelings, and we'd end it. And, in fact, I had decided I would tell you that we should just be friends. But then the drinking made me kinda bite my tongue." And then, he had the delusion of grandeur to say "I wouldn't be able to write because I would want to be in bed with you all day and all night" to which I would have said "I have too much shit to do, and your not endowed enough to keep me in bed that long. Although I sleep in and that's getting to be a problem." 

A Ho Time Line is Born!

Check it out y'all it's a Hos Anonimos Time Line so we're all on the same page!

Posted using ShareThis

OK, I take It Back. Ben, Like All Men, SUCKS

I can't really get into it now, because I'll either kill a man or even worse, have a nightmare. But, for now, know that Ben is a total putz. No he's worse. He suffers from that not a total putz and yet not a mensch either problem, kinda like Sheldon.

OMG. I don't know if I can fit the cliches Ben delivered on a single computer screen. More to come. But just know it was one of those I like you too much to fuck you up by being with you. A uniquely male problem, I would argue.

Anyway, no major loss. Just more evidence of why dating guys who are disappointing from the get go are so much less... disappointing. Maybe I should call up Juan . Just kidding. If nothing else, Ben really did knock-- or nail-- Juan out of my system. Not that that his hammer is that big, believe you me. UGGGHH!

what is the deal, Abdoullim?

OK, so what is the deal with Tajikistani guys? Am I right? They're so flakey. Again, I met Abdualim in Mumbai and joked (kind of) that he was the most promising of all potential guys in my life. And yes, meeting somebody once and making out in a hotel hallway counts as having him in your life. Like, duh! Everyone knows that.

So I had a little correspondence with Ab since I met him last winter. And the other day, I got this:

Hello dear [my name]!

I am in United States now. We came from Washington to Telluride Film Festival (Colorado). In couple of days we will go to St. Francisco and then to Chicago and in September 11 to New York city. I will depart from New-York in 17 th. Hope to see you.

huggs,
Abdualim

OK, I thought it was a little weird he hadn't told me before he was came to the U.S. But then again, he is from Eastern Europe and may not have had any running water or email access. And I could imagine the trip happening totally last minute after the Ab's brother was finally able to sell his sheep and pay back Ab the money he had lent him so Ab could pay for flight and black market passport. You think I'm being Westernist, but wait til I show you another email which proves how sometimes, jokes about Tajikistan are more true than intended.

So I wrote to him

Hey Abdualim,
Where are you staying in NY? At a hotel? If you need a place to stay, you can stay with me. Call me at 123 456 789

To which he wrote

I don't know yet about the name of the hotel our delegation is going to stay. Thank you very much for you invitation. As I find out and come to New-York I will call to you

To which I wrote

let me know your plans and if there is
anything in particular you want to do or see in nyc. and I still don't know what you are doing in the united states. are you showing a movie?
which one?

Then he wrote this email, which really annoyed me:

Hi [mispells my name for first time]!

Thank you very much for your messages. I am here as a participant of the international visitor programm "Documentary filmmaking" financed by states department. We have a very hard schedule in every cities and in New-York too. They want to show as US film industry. hope to see you soon.

WTF? "hope to see you soon"? And why hasn't he called me? Here I am, a native New Yorker, offering to show him around and he "hopes to see me soon" because of his "hard schedule." I'm kinda annoyed. Not because I want to get some Tajikistani action (been there, done that. Contrary to popular belief, the old saying "once you go Tajikistani you never go backi," is not true. ) But shouldn't he be excited just to see me because I'm a cool person who lives here? Again, I'm actually not at all upset, more offended. Does he have a girlfriend? Maybe someone from states department? I'll show you some other e-mail exchanges so you can see that he's usually more friendly. He even invited me to his country and told me, with my hair up, I looked like the "women of the mountain." He seems to change his tone over the course of these emails too. Weird. Guess the Soviets were right.

Guess I ain't Ben played by Ben Afterall (for now)

So, fans know that I was trying to keep my post-coital cool about a certain dude, Ben. I was pretty annoyed that I hadn't heard from Ben, and I decided that I didn't like him anyway, because if we had kids together they totally wouldn't be as cute as Langston Hughes. I mean, that's a high standard, but he's like all blond hair and blue eyed, which is totes not my type.

Well, he's still Aryan looking (though Jewish, which makes him, I guess, the exact opposite of Hitler) and I don't know if I want to have with him, but I'm not ready to throw out the dude with the dude water yet. Because yesterday, he texted me. It was a really thoughtful text: "How you?" It barely fit on my cell screen! Anyway, we wound up talking por telefono. And it was fun and awkward. He's kind of feral and uncivilized. Like a beast. But a cute, funny, smart and fun beast. So we'll see. He's constantly protecting himself. He says things like "Let me know when you get here, because I'm bored." Last night he said at the end of the conversation "So, yeah, I guess we ca talk later and hang out this week or whatever." I know. Like a direct and open Prince Charming. So we'll see what happens.

XXX Dreams

OK. so the good thing about sleeping with Ben, more details on this to follow, is that I was able to get a certain other schmuck out of my system. As they say in Spanish, un clavo saca otro clavo or one nail knocks out/ replaces another nail. I don't think they have a verb form of "to nail" in Spanish, so that makes the English translation of it even better and/ or more pervy. So after my first night with Ben, in which we slept together but didn't actually "do it," I had a dream that I saw Juan in a bar. And I told Juan, in all seriousness, "wow, I thought you were taller and cooler." I wonder what that dream symbolizes? Duh. I mean I really woke up feeling like Juan was not a big loss at all. Of course, the ideal would be not replacing one obsession with another. The ideal would be to not obsess over anyone. But you know what they say? una obsesión saca otra obsesión. At least, I say that. As of now...

The bad thing, of course, is that I can't stop thinking about Ben. Of course, I realize that my obsessions have more to do with me or a void I feel and less to do with the actual guy or nail. But in this case, I actually think I like this dude and we have stuff in common. I definitely have more in common with him than I do with anyone else I've been with recently. So at least maybe this is a step in the right direction.

You Know What, Ben? I Don't Want You Anyway!

OK Ben ,

Here it is. I was looking at the Langston Hughes baby picture, which is, like, the cutest thing EVER. And I realized, we're really not going to work out. You lack the genes I need

You will never give me the kind of baby I want. You won't be able to give me a fat baby. And even if it is fat, since you're weird about eating and stuff, you'll put it on some regimen. And I won't do that to my baby. I won't deprive him of food. I won't do that to myself. I won't deprive myself of adorable babies.

So we're through!

And here's what your baby will look like! If you're lucky

I Promised Myself I Wouldn't Boink

Ugggh. So, I'm not sure if I shared this in writing, but I had vowed that, since I get to emotionally invested and attached when I get "romenic" (that's "romantic" but said with a Sarah Palin accent), I would wait for at least a month before sleeping with someone I liked. My reasoning was, I'd rather trust someone and feel comfortable with that person emotionally (sorry, I just almost vomited) before having a sleep over. That way, if he was cool enough to sleep with I would sleep with him. But if he wasn't, I would weed him out.

But that was my plan for when I'm at home, in my own element/ city. What happens when I'm somewhere else? Like in another city and state? Like I was last week for a wedding? Where I spent some time with some dude I hadn't seen in a while but had met a few years before and hit it off with? Then what do I do?

As Langston Hughes asks in Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream promise deferred?
Does it dry
up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a
syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it
explode?

Sadly, it stinks and explodes... all over your face... [I'm actually being more poetic than literal here and I realize that sounds gross and reproductive organ-related. But it's not, at least, it's not intentionally.]

It's kinda like when you're abroad, everything moves faster. I always do things when travelling that I wouldn't do abroad. I guess, you could say, my domestic policy is more conservative than my foreign policy. But being on the West Coast is hardly being in another country. Especially when you're conducting diplomacy with someone who lives in the same city you do. So why did I break my promise to myself?

Now I can't stop thinking about this dude, Ben, and waiting for him to call. I think even if we had just flirted and kissed I would be obsessing. But not this much. OK, I saw him less than 24 hours ago, so total freak out mode isn't justified. But come ON!!!!!!!!!!!! If you're reading this, Ben, then call me, you asshole. And also, sorry for writing about you in a blog.

Oh. that photo is not of Ben, nor is it of the child I would have with Ben. It's a baby photo of Langston Hughes I found when I was looking up his Dream Deferred poem.

That was an annoying date

So tonight I went on an ambiguous date. It could have been a full on date or just a let's be friends, grab a drink. We met at a political event.

He's awesome on paper: he's an occupational physician (like the kind of doctor who sees the people in Erin Brockovich. So will call him Aaron.) But it was one of those, you were so much cooler when we met/ are so much cooler on the internets. (Note, this was not an online date, but we did exchange e-mails.) And the place he chose was so loud. And screaming is especially annoying when you don't know someone that well. By the way, his brother called. He didn't pick up. But he had to check who it was in case it was patient.

Anyway, the date went well enough, but not that great. I already knew that the next morning he had to go to court to testify in a patent's case and had to meet with the patient and his lawyer very early. And I know this is true because we had been emailing back and forth about date. So he had a legitimate excuse to leave after less than 2 hours. And I was convinced enough that while the date wasn't that great, it wasn't excuse-creatingly terrible. And I would have left the date feeling fine... if only he hadn't said: "yeah, i gotta go: I gotta wake up early and meet my patient and lawyer; i gotta call my brother." See, saying "I gotta go because of patient" is fine. I gotta go because of patient and because of brother is... forced. He might as well have said "I have to testify tomorrow, I have to call my brother, I have to see how my grandmother is, it's been a while, I have to do my laundry, I have to wash my bathtub, it's filthy." It's like a student saying "Oh, I don't have my homework because I have a fever and all I did was sleep it off. I got no work done. And the dog ate my home work."

Now, it's possible that he was stressed and tired and talking out loud/ giving himself a pep talk. I've been known to do that. But either way, I'm utterly annoyed. I kinda feel like emailing him: FYI, the brother thing is a dead give away. But I think I'll just ignore him. He's a nice guy so he'll probably email me. And I'll see him in a few weeks at a mutual friend's wedding.

I Cannot Disappoint My Fans: Blind Date Report Back

Dear fans,

Many of you have expressed frustration, sadness, curiosity, and even anxiety and anger over my "leaving you in the dark" and not telling you all about my first ever blind date with Stevie. (Don't worry Boobs Not Bombs fan-- you are not alone. There are others out there who, like you, can't wait to hear from me.) For that, I sincerely apologize. I was running all around this week like a ho with her head chopped off. That's gross. Sorry. What I intended to be a cute mixed metaphor came out sounding like some southern misogynist proverb, which makes light of violence against prostitutes.

So, when I got to the date, I was a little disappointed. That sounds terrible. But the woman who set us up had described him as really cute and her enthusiasm and confidence in his looks made me think he was, you know, walking down the street, you think he's cute. He was more like "Oh I can see that if he was cool he could be cute." Definitely looked at my boobs in an annoyingly obvious way.Of course, there's the whole issue of how a guy SHOULD respond to subtle cleavage, for which I bare full responsibility. Either the tactlessness or the obviousness made me keep my shawl on the whole night.

At first the conversation was slow, but then it got good and interesting and engaging and intellectually stimulating. My attraction for him grew over the period of the date, which is a good thing. If it keeps going at this rate, in a couple more dates I won't be able to keep my

 hands off of him. I don't have that problem now.

He paid, which was nice, and walked me to the train and all that. He called me a few days later and I called him back a bunch of days later, not on purpose-- that my conscious is aware of, anyway-- and now I'm waiting to hear back from him. He told the woman who set us up that I was smart and "cute." I hate the word cute. Am I a panda? Or a chubby baby kicking my michelin thighs like a cricket?

I will keep yous guys posted.

My first ever blind date

Ladies and gents (mostly ladies, but you'd be surprised how many men have written to this ho)... you are witnessing history--herstory-- no, ourstory-- in the making.  For the first time ever, I am going on a totally non-internet-induced blind date.

I met a woman, through a MuF (mutual friend.) We all went out for drinks and after, said woman and I shared a cab. We got to talking, men came up, my single status came up (I know, she couldn't believe it either), and I asked for any eligable available men to be sent my way. And she actually took me up on it and sent me an e-mail the next day with a thorough description of her colleague. I have her permission to give him my number, which is a HUGE deal. I mean some

 people would kill for that. 

I've spoken on the phone with the dude (We'll

call him Stevie) a few times. He seems nice, 

but I'm kinda not feeling it. Can't tell if it's him. I think it may be me. Some kinda self sabotage. Funny how I can be so picky about someone I've met. But then, once I've met the person, and like, spent a few hours with him, I make allowances and excuses up the wazu. We'll see. Anyhoo, I'll have a report back tonight.

cross your fingers for me

Maybe... just maybe... Love really IS blind!

The Rain (Or Polar Bears) In Spain,

Tuesday, I forgot to mention how annoyingly corny and dramatic and mysterious Leonardo's tone was. If you had asked me before if I would be living here... but now, I just don't know. That's how crazy my life is. You never know where your life will lead. Who knows what tomorrow brings? I almost died of a burst appendix, so as far as I'm concerned, I should already be dead.

I won't bite and say "What on earth is crazy about your life? Where on earth are you moving? And why?" I definitely would have done that before. In fact the major fight that ended our relationship was-- ha, I'm laughing as I remember this--  about polar bears. Well, kind of. Let me go check the records. God, I love gmail. It makes blogging about your exes SOOOO easy. Hold on... OK, I'm back. Wow, I remember how devastated I was by this e-mail, which is only 2 years old, but feels like it's from Kindergarten. OK, so here it is (with the emoticons and all)

Hi ! [I've italicized what's he wrote in English]

te cuento que en Julio no estare unos dias en Madrid. Del 5 al 12 estare fuera en un viaje a La Antartida estudiando la vida de los osos polares :O) consideralo para afinar tu programa actividades in Spain. De todas maneras habra tiempo cuando estes aquí para confirmar fechas.

Finalmente, el hombre del tiempo reportando que en Madrid el calor esta muy fuerte. Hoy por lo menos uff!

Bueno, to por ahora

Besos
Bye

You know the drill. Here's the ingles.

Hi ! [I've italicized what's he wrote in English]

I just wanted to tell you that I will be out of Madrid for a few days in July. From July 5-12 I will be on a trip in Antarctica studying the lives of Polar Bears :O) Keep that in mind when you're planning your activities in Spain. Anyway, once you're here, there will be time to confirm dates.

Lastly, the weatherman just reported the heat is really strong. Today at least uff*!

Well, that's all for now,

kisses,
Bye

I don't know if I told you this, but when we met, I was 23 and he was 36. Although we both thought the other one was in their late 20s. So keep that in mind as you enjoy his polar bear jokes and emoticons.

So, two years ago, when I was just a wee thing, I did bite. I bit hard. I'll show you the e-mail I wrote back in my next post. It's pathetic...

 

*not sure what the linguistic rout of "uff" is. 

More from my ex-pat/ ex-putz

Today, I got an e-mail which reminded me, again, why it's such relief to be over someone you thought you would never get over. And it's useful to remember that the next time you think that you'll never ever ever get over someone. As I said, I used to be sooooo eager to hear from Leonardo. My communication with Leonardo would define my highs and lows. A cute flirty e-mail would make my day and an ambiguous one would ruin it. God, I wasted so much money calling him from a land line. Last week, I shared an annoyingly self congratulating Leonardo sent me. Now check out this one he sent today. You need to know that this is in response to an e-mail I sent him yesterday, in which I asked him if he would in Spain on a certain date. I explained I was considering going for the 70 year anniversary of a certain event of great historical importance in October. I think in my e-mail I was pretty clear that the trip was based on the event: ("I'm thinking of returning to the motherland for the 70th anniversary... It would be between October 23 and 30th. " So here is his response. And note the emoticon (again)

Kate!! :O)

Justo ayer hable de ti; te lo juro; creo que tu padre debe investigar mas las conexiones cerebro-cerebro, a través de canales "no convencionales";O)

Bueno, mi vida anda muy revuelta estos dias; si me hubieras preguntado hace 1 mes sobre mi estadia en España para octubre te hubiera dicho que si; pero hoy mismo, no lo se, lo mas probable es que no. Hasta Agosto es seguro, despues, depende...¿No puedes adelantar tu viaje?...

Bueno, en todo caso, ahora engo mas tiempo para escribir y hablar..

Bs.

And now in English

Kate!! :O)

I was just talking about you the other day; I swear. I think your father should investigate brain to brain connections through "unconventional" channels. ;O)

Well, my life is crazy these days; if you had asked me one month ago about my being in Spain, I would have told you yes; but as of today today, I can't say, but it's most likely no. I'm sure I will be here til August, after, it depends... You can't move up your trip?...

Well, in any case, now I have more time to write and talk...

ks

OMG! So Annoying. Sure, I'll move up my trip by a few months and ask Spain to just move up the 70th year anniversary. What's a few months, right? Especially after 70 years. His trip adjustment suggests two things, both of which are really annoying 1) that I'm making the trip around him. 2) that he didn't pay attention to the whole purpose of my trip. Anyway... The last time I went to Spain I didn't even tell him I was going. And I'm glad I did that. Because I needed to recontextualize Spain. I had gone there a bunch before knowing him, but then the entire country become connected to him. I mean, I did stay with him when I went etc. Now I'm ready to see him, but don't particularly care either way, which is really liberating.

I hope you enjoyed the emoticons, by the way. I know I did.

My Ex-Pat Ex-Putz

It's so reassuring to be so over someone you one swore you would never get over. Such is the case with Leonardo , with whom I was in a a year-long long distance relationship. We met in Spain, where he lived/ lives and I shudder when I remember the corny cliched things he used to say that I actually took seriously. Like, he almost died (of appendicitis!) so he lives life in the moment. Or, he doesn't believe in labels and convention so he can't be in a monogamous relationship. Anyway, I'm reveling in how much his selfishness, which I used to not call selfishness, but which used to hurt me and drive me crazy, now just annoy the shit out of me. But instead of being hurtful, they're amusing. Check out this e-mail he wrote me. You should know that I think I don't even remember who wrote whom last, but I guess, according to his e-mail, it was me. I don't remember sounding desperate or encouraging him to "write back soon." But his e-mail makes it seem like I had told him if he didn't contact me, I was going to throw myself from the top of a building:

Hola!
Ahora estoy en dias con muchas cosas por hacer tambien, pero claro que siempre puedo sentarme un minuto a escribirte, prometo que te escribire muchos mas en unos dias.
Mi corazon esta recuperandose; el tiempo lo cura todo ;O)
Suerte con tu documental, y te escribo mas la proxima, lo prometo
Bs.

OK. Here's the translation:

Hello! I'm also really busy and have a lot of things to do, but of course, I can always sit down for a minute and write you, I promise I'll write you more in a few days. My heart is recovering; time heels all ;O). I'll write more the next time, I promise. Ks

Oh, I guess I must have e-mailed him about Scarlett Johansson. He always had a crush on her and I asked if he was OK with her being married. That's why he made the reference. Also, note the ;O). He was always into emoticons. Maybe it's because they are so universal and transcultural and direct. Hmmm.

Her-story Will Absolve Me

As Fidel Castro once said, during what must have been a three hour + speech, History Will Absolve Me. Well, this weekend I found out that Fidel and I have more in common than I thought (my friends will know I'm not really joking here.) Ho, like her comrade Fidel, has also been absolved by history. Or his story. Or her story. Or her Amiri story.

The other day, I ran into Sarah, a girl whose best friend Will is one of Amiri's good friends. While dating Amiri, whenever I hung out with his friends I would find found myself stuck in an enjoyable but strange sort of Bermuda's triangle. If you substitute (1)sports, (2) politics, and (3) cutesy-joking-flirting-smiling-gazing in eyes-talking-about nothing for the (1)Straits of Florida, (2)the Bahamas, and (3) the Atlantic. Or maybe a Venn diagram is a better example. But those are hard to do on a computer. Amiri and his friends shared a deep love for sports (which I don't know anything about.) Amiri's friends and I shared a deep interest in politics (which Amiri tries to not know anything about.) And Amiri and I shared inside jokes, stares, smiles and hand holding, which we did not share with Amiri's friends. So Amiri and I would cute-talk to each other, Amiri and his friends would sports-talk to each other, and Amiri's friends and I would politics-talk to each other. In a weird way, I could talk to his friends more than I could talk to him.

Anyway, I asked Sarah how Will was and during our chit chat I recalled how Will would multi task, having political conversations with me and speaking sportsese with Amiri. Then, without any prompting, Sarah said, "that's funny because I was hanging out with Will today and we were talking and he said 'you know Amiri is great, but he can't talk about anything but sports'."

Halleljah! Now I know it's not just my sports illiteracy. I always though that Amiri had an unhealthy obsession with sports and lived a ridiculously sportscentric life. In fact, he discussed our entire relationship-- and all relationships-- through sports metaphors . But then again, sometimes I thought, maybe it's me, not him. After all, I'm pathologically bad at sports and have confused baseball for basketball on a few occasions. But now I know that Amiri's very athletic friend, who also loves sports, and even plays on a team with Amiri, thinks Amiri is Outta control. This story has relieved me. And made me sad for Amiri. But mostly satisfied for myself.

In case you're Juan-dering about Juan's e-mail

Dear friends and fans, Sorry it's been so long. Ho's been busy. So I thought I would use Juan 's lovely e-mail to both make fun of him and teach people some Spanish. Here is what he said in Spanish (the language in which he wrote it) and English. The missing accents are in red.

Hola! espero que te encuentras encuentres [subjunctive] bien a recivier recibir [spelling] estas letras. Solamente quiero dejar te dejarte [when an infinitive verb is immediately followed by a direct or indirect object, it is always one word not two words] saber que lamento por todo y espero que algun dia me puedas perdonar por ser tan ignorante. Tambien quiero que sepas que mis nenes estan aqui y quiero llevar los llevarlos [see above] al parque central serca cerca [c not s] de tu casa. HOPE U DON'T HAT HATE [missing e] MY ASS. CUIDATE..

Here is the translation with his mistakes translated (which is a rough science)

Hi. I hope when you recivier this, you is doing well. I only want to letyou know that I'm sorry for everything and I hope one day you can forgive me for being so ignorant. I also want to letyou to know that my kids are here and I want to bring them to Central Park cloce to your house. HOPE YOU DON'T HAT [sic] MY ASS. TAKE CARE...

My favorite part is recivier. I guess it's a combination of recibir and receive. Plus an added French ier ending for some flair. Of course, had Juan been a nice person I would have find this endearing. But he's not. And before you call me a snob, Juan went to high school and almost graduated college and is very smart. But he's lazy and watches TV all the time. That's not fair, he also spends a lot of time on myspace. So, this is just me cashing in on what I'm owed: fodder for blogging and material. This is just another example of why I (should) have "no regrets (i guess)."

In Case You're Juan-dering, Guess Who Contacted Me?

Up until today, I hadn't heard from (former cop in Puerto Rico, current security guard in NY, father of two kids) Juan for a few months. My last conversation with him was over the phone and contained some of his greatest hits:

Juan: And I want to be a cop. And you don't want me to be a cop.

Me: It's just that it's dangerous.*
Juan: Well, walking onto the street is dangerous.
Me: Yeah but--
Juan: It used to be dangerous to be a Jew**
Me: OK, well, I wouldn't want my husband to go to the Jew Academy and become a Jew either. Silence.

And

I want to be the one who works. And I want the woman to take care of the house. I like a woman who cooks and cleans. Like my ex, she had her problems, but if I was hungry, she'd have a plate of food ready for me... But you, you're there for me if I need to talk. But, I need to be the one who works.

The convo ended like this

Juan: Can I call you write back?
Me: Why don't you just call me tomorrow
Juan: Yeah, that's what I'll do. Lemme call you tomorrow.
Me: Bye
Juan: Bye.

And it only took him a few months to finally get in touch. He didn't call me and I certainly didn't call him. But check out this gem of an e-mail. I guess he writes in Spanish when it comes to matters of the heart.

Hola! espero que te encuentras bien a recivier estas letras. Solamente quiero dejar te saber que lamento por todo y espero que algun dia me puedas perdonar por ser tan ignorante. Tambien quiero que sepas que mis nenes estan aqui y quiero llevar los al parque central serca de tu casa. HOPE U DON'T HAT MY ASS. CUIDATE..

Here is the translation (without his mistakes. I will include those later)

Hi. I hope you're doing well. I only want to let you know that I'm sorry for everything and I hope one day you can forgive me for being so ignorant. I also want you to know that my kids are here and I want to bring them to Central Park near your house. HOPE YOU DON'T HAT [sic] MY ASS. TAKE CARE...

What the heck?


*actually, I'm uncomfortable with the profession for several reasons, but this was the one I chose to share, because it's the least offensive [why was I worried about being nice?] and because it's not that controversial a statement.

** I'm (ethnically) Jewish.

Deep Thought: There's a Fine Line Between Pervy and Lusty

Hi fans,

So, last post, I described catching

I Caught him lustfully staring. And I don’t usually say that. In fact, I can tell you write now, I have never said that. I hope to use it more in the future. I mean I hope there are more lustful stares coming my way that would justify the nomenclature. Of course, lustful stares from gross guys don’t count.

Fred Thompson Barack Obama