l'armor
Feeling decidedly unwell, I stayed in bed all day and rested. To be honest, I've been feeling a little down over the last couple days, which probably was more the reason I stayed at home today then any physical discomfort. I lay in my bed and thought about love.
It's interesting, looking at the topics that have generated the most interest in my blog:
1) Differences between men and women
2) Sex
3) Awkward and/or compromising situations involving women and myself
4) My ruminations on love
All of these topics relate to love in some way. This continual search for a chosen other, the person that complete us and make us whole. The happy ending in a life that is often little in similarity with the fairy tales of our youth. We're fascinated by it. Can't get enough of it. Sex is an extension of love, even those purely physical relationships that romantics frown upon and men everywhere dream about. A purely sexual relationship is never about the sex, in my opinion. It's the outlet of our desperation and loneliness. The sex takes us to an illusion where we're with that Other, when in reality we're still searching for it. That for one brief moment ("too brief!" chuckle the women), we can experience that intimacy we yearn for, do crazy things for, make all sacrifice and lay all on the line for.
Then the moment ends, and we find we are still alone.
I could never quite get it together when it came to the women I truly cared about. I think it's a good thing. I found that when I'm at my most charming, most witty, most secure, it is with women that I know, deep down, I have no true interest in, will never work, and would be unhappy in a relationship with them. And when I'm at my most vulnerable, most nervous, most tongue-tied and awkward, things that people say I am not, those are the times when I know I've found someone special. It doesn't happen very often, which makes every time all the more important, all the more crucial. And I'm always terrified, every single time. But I need to relish it, submerge myself in that fear, because I know if I surrender to it, fail to act on how I feel, she's just going to walk away from me and out of my life. Again. I want to believe in serendipity but, in truth, fate is about building a bridge of chance for the one you care about.
That's my moment of realisation right there. Ironically, when I'm at my most confident, cock-sure, self centered and aloof, that's the time women decide they find me attractive. Which goes to show women shouldn't make important decisions that don't involve what's for dinner or what colour curtains should go in a room. Women everywhere, try to limit your hate messages to 50 words max somewhere private , via Facebook or something when you're not too busy uploading photos of what exciting thing you did on the weekend that involves you and several girl friends dressing up yet again.
Also, I didn't really spend all my time thinking about love. I also read abit, among which was the Economist, which also judging by blog traffic and posts discussed, belongs somewhere in the bottom 5 in generating interest, nestled somewhere between monetary policy and my work. 'Pretentious Wanker' only hurts if I still care about what you say regarding my interests.
Not that I deny it of course.
heart you
My hopes and dreams, longing and desire, I lay at thy feet.
I am a prisoner of your love.
Dumble-back-dore?
So I was going to blog about the debate last night but I decided it was not interesting because, frankly, it didn't change the situation much. Rudd is still the preferred and people really really don't like Costello.
No, tonight's subject of interest is this. Dumbledore, beloved hero, premier academic and pillar of the wizarding world has been outed as gay. Great, just great. Now I can't reread those HP scenes with Harry and Dumbledore without a certain disquiet. Where before was the pure and totally non dodgy relationship of mentor and protege has turned into something a little more sinister. "Give me your wand Harry" he leered over his spectacles, reaching forward OH GOD NO WHYYYY .
Levity aside, I liked to think that Dumbledore was this pure, and near the end slightly fatherly, figure to Harry. This revelation adds a certain dimension to the character that really I could've done without. That said, I would be less concerned, nay, enraptured, if Rowling had instead outed Professor McGonagall as a lesbian. You start to wonder, with her Victorian-esque disciplnie and stell, whether that hides inside a kinky headmistress willing to take...uh.. extraordinary displinary measures against the girls. In their dorms. In the middle of the night. I'm talking about bare bottomed spankings! Awakened feelings of guilty pleasure! Sexual experimentation of a sapphic nature! Oh what fan fiction there could be!
Instead, Grindelwald and Dumbledore erotic fan fiction awaits, and the internet is a much darker place for it.
I open at the close. Also, Harry, I'm gay.
heart cooks brain 2
"Jay-ay-son!"
"oof!" I exhaled as a pink blur accelerated into me, knocking the book I was reading out of my hands. My mysterious assailant laughed at my startled reaction, exclaiming -
"Told you I'd bump into you!"
My eyes slowly focused on the pony tailed girl now sitting next to me, laughing at her own joke. She began studying my lunch with interest.
"Ooh that looks tasty! Yum yum!"
"Uhh" I brilliantly began.
"We met last friday! Why are you here?" She asked abruptly.
"Just meeting some friends here" I answered, hoping I hadn't remembered her name wrong.
"Give me your phone" she ordered, ignoring my confusion as I obediently handed it to her. "Yeah, it's an old brick" I muttered sheepishly, embarassed at the black shame masquerading as my mobile phone. She ignored me.
"What are you doing?" I asked, looking at her navigating through the menu. She gave me a look that suggested I was not quite right in the head. "I'm giving you my number", turning her attention back to the phone as she spoke.
"So...did you have fun last friday?" I ventured. She hummed happily as she tapped her details into the phone, giggling at the end before quickly handing it back to me. I looked down at what she had entered.
"Titillating?" I raised an eyebrow at her.
"Always! Gotta run! Bye!" She bumped into me again for good measure and bounced off, leaving me staring at her back.
HILARIOUS
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v518/jaseypoo/aileen.jpg
This screenshot works on so many levels (don't worry, it's clean)
CAPTAIN OBVIOUS
You know what you're reading will be fascinating when it has subject titles such as "Demonstration of Derivation of Distribution Components of Distribution Reference Tariffs"
where are ze ipods
Having filled up my 30gig ipod to the brim with still more music to go, I had to make one of two decisions - trim the fat, or buy the new higher capacity ipods. Having looked at my library and decided just about every song on there is a song I probably would want to listen to sometime, somewhere, I decided the 80gig ipod was the way to go. Perhaps it was Apple's ample use of "1 2 3 4" by Feist of Broken Social Scene fame (though perhaps that should be the other way round nowadays?) to market their wares, and perhaps I just wanted a new toy, either way I went to the city centre during my lunch to buy one. Except I went to everywhere in Perth and couldn't find one. Where are the ipods?? There were a few 160gig ones, but to be honest that's probably way too much capacity even by my standards.
I decided to skip on the ipod touch mainly because my rule of thumb is never to buy a first iteration product, as there are inevitably design flaws, as evidenced by the general lackluster reviews over the device on the internetz.
I'll probably head over to Garden City tomorrow night to see if my luck will be better...probably not though.
Music gods Radiohead drops their new album In Rainbows today. Holy hell it's been a good year for music, and it's set to get better next year with Big Day Out's Rage Against the Machine, Arcade Fire, LCD Soundsystem and Billy Bragg.
HELL IS THE ABSENCE OF GOD
..as they say, but I posit a more accurate descriptor:
Hell is the absence of love
Lo, what hell is this? That thine heart forever grasps, but never holds
