to prove that I don’t take anything too seriously

It’s currently midnight on a Sunday, and I’m watching “Supernatural” on the DVR, when I should be updating this blog while sleeping.  I have work at 9am, but I feel like if I don’t do this now, I will only set the stage for more slacking off in the future.  As much as I love sleep, I have come to realize that my commitment to the written (and/or typed) word will almost always trump sleep.  Hell, if I had sick days at this job, I would take one to work on some of my book, as well as the essay I’m writing about how Sonic Youth‘s video for “Dirty Boots” ruined my expectations for romantic love at the dawn of the Grunge Era.  I’d been wanting to write it for awhile, but with the recent Thurston Moore/Kim Gordon split, it seems timely.  Of course, by the time I actually finish it, it will be old hat.

So now it’s a little after 1am and I am trying to focus harder by listening to Reading, Writing and Arithmetic by The Sundays.  It takes me back to a simpler time, when I was about 16, blue, and I had a crush on some cute English singer in a band whom I would never meet; but that slim chance was equal to the lack of action I was experiencing with the girls in my high school as the 80s were fleeting into the rearview mirror and senior year was rapidly approaching, complete with the promise of getting the hell out of this one horse town (actually, our town had at least one stable, so we had more than just one horse in a literal sense, but, aside from a brief period of time in 1991-1992, we had zero record stores, but nobody ever says “I had to leave that none record store town”).

Back then, I had no idea that I was being primed for a life of seeing things differently than other people, that I was going to be on the fringes of groups of friends forever, like a talentless James Joyce – always observing and writing, but never quite belonging to a circle the way everyone else seems to, but yet never NOT belonging.  I guess that makes me kind of like an electron.  I bounce from group to group, and while, never rejected and even accepted, I just always feel like an outsider.  Most of the time, I don’t mind.  But once in a while, the need to feel a close and lasting bond to another human being not related to you gets strong.  And that’s where these letters come in.  While I know deep down that the odds of me finding lasting and true love from a free dating website are low, I’m just enough of a hopeless romantic to at least give it a try.  And then I write something like the letter below.

What I will say in my defense in regards to this particular letter, is that at least I pointed out to the young woman what parts were me being funny (on purpose), as opposed to the trainwreck conversation from a few months ago where the young lady had no idea what the fuck I was talking about.  I’m just kind of bummed that I didn’t get to post this before the profile was deleted.  I wish I could remember what she looked like, since I made the mistake of showing my cards and complimenting her looks, which as we all now know from the overlords of OK Cupid and their little OK Trends blog, is a turn-off.  I’m good at those.  Someone somewhere, I’m convinced, has a list of turn-offs that include my name.

to prove that I don’t take anything too seriously
Sent to _ariadne
Feb 11, 2010 – 2:46am
Sorry, _ariadne no longer has an account

I am going to tell the truth and say that when I read your three adjectives, my first thought was “I’d like to insert something witty, alright.”

But then I figured that was a bad idea, but if I have learned anything in this life, it’s that you should stick to your guns. Then again, my default photo is of me behind the stairs eating pizza.

Seriously, though, you like a lot of the same things I do, and you totally seem like the kind of woman I would like to get drinks with and talk about life and philosophy and get fondue with (I’ve never had fondue or ice-skated). Is it funny that the girl who grew up in Saudi Arabia has ice-skated but the guy who grew up 5 minutes from an ice rink has not? I played a lot of street hockey, but never on skates of either variety.

Oh and the first paragraph wasn’t me trying to be funny. the second paragraph, however, was. Also, allow me to close this letter by saying that you look absolutely radiant in your photos.

Look forward to chatting with you,

i’ve got a theory…it could be bunnies*

This one’s for the ladies…well, the Buffy-lovin’ ladies, that is.  Maybe just the dark, curly-haired, political activist ladies with awesome smiles…  What about this letter ISN’T awesome?  Aside from the fact that when mentioning “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” I should have related the anecdote about the time I went to see it at the Carousel Mall in Syracuse and the guy dressed as Dr. Frank N. Furter was wearing a yarmulkeLiam will mostly just take notice that I didn’t mention me singing “Against All Odds” at karaoke.

Seriously, though…I mentioned Buffy, Mystery Science Theater 3000, “Rocky Horror,” the Hulk, NYPIRG (and the fact I only joined it to get into a British woman’s pants), and Robert Guillaume all in one concise email.  And I used the word “cultivate” in regards to my brooding.  This letter should have screamed “JACKPOT!”  I just don’t understand women, I guess.

i’ve got a theory…it could be bunnies
Sent to leftywriterbabe
10% Enemy 85% Friend 88% Match
Jun. 2, 2008 – 2:05am

Hi there,

I’ve thought about writing you several times, but for one reason or another, had not done so. Now that it’s 1:30am and I should try sleeping, I’m going to follow-through.

I will say that you look really cute and your smile (especially in the ferry picture) is simply radiant. I think there are too many people who are seemingly afraid to smile, and while I do try to cultivate the mysterious brooding look about me, standup comedians around town can identify me by my laugh. Also, I see we like a lot of the same pop-culture type things. I think I’ve spent years of my life watching MST3K. In fact, from a friend of mine, I acquired a ton of episodes, including the public access season (stored on my hard drive). Oh and I have been rewatching Buffy from the beginning and just watched Once More With Feeling the other night (I’ve also seen it presented in a movie theater as an experience a la Rocky Horror).

It’s cool that you’re so active in trying to better the world. I’m not really cut out for activism (I care about politics and society’s problems, but it all tends to just get me really upset and turning into the Hulk doesn’t really help further any progressive change), but I did join the nuclear issues group in my college’s chapter of NYPIRG to impress a girl with a British accent when I was 18. I spend most of my time squandering my talents in creative endeavors by wasting time witnessing others’ contributions to music and entertainment instead of making my own, though I am trying to upset that balance by running a small record label and whatnot.

And while it may not come out in this impersonal, late night electronic transmission, I’m really into banter and the back-and-forth, and oftentimes, I delight in moments when there are a few people in a small kitchen chatting while opening and closing a refrigerator, a freezer, a cabinet or three, and whatever doors are in close proximity, so that it seems choreographed, like in a sitcom. When I finally write a screenplay, there will be a scene centered around that. If you haven’t ever seen the show “Sports Night” you really should. It’s one of my favorite shows ever, and I have to rewatch the entire series once every 6 months or so and then get all uppity about how ABC cancelled it so quickly (2nd season) despite all the awards it won (and the fact that Robert Guillaume is the shit).

I’m rambling now. So hello and goodnight.

——–

*I actually have an update for this one as of April 4th, 2010.  On that day, in between stints driving around Long Island with my pal Mike, looking for crazy weird stuff, I stopped to check my email and Facebook, and my Ok Cupid account had an email.  I opened it and it was from none other than leftywriterbabe!  It was a really long, well-thought-out letter explaining why she hadn’t responded to my initial letter, nearly TWO YEARS ago.  The short version is this:

“Bunnies aren’t just cute like everybody supposes.  You know what else isn’t cute? Me, not writing back to the personalized, thoughtful message eons ago. Anyway, just wanted to say hi, and come clean about why I didn’t reply: I’m pretty sure I never saw it.”

She then goes on to sum up the past 22 months that elapsed betwixt contacts.  So I write her back.  She says she’s trying to finish up a book and needs to meet her deadline, but once that is done, maybe we could get together.

“But if by some chance you’re not still annoyed that I didn’t write back when you originally sent this note, and you feel like grabbing a cupcake (I’d suggest coffee, but really, aren’t cupcakes more fun?) or catch an improv show at the UCB at some point, I’d be open to that.”

I’d really love to post the whole letter, but not enough time has passed since the most recent letter I sent her to which she hasn’t responded (I’m sensing a pattern at work, here).  Anyhow, she came across as witty and cute and it would be nice if something did come out of it.  After all, I had already come clean about the blog, to which she said:

“Since you didn’t post my picture or real name to your blog, and you didn’t say anything particularly snide… nope, you didn’t scare me off.”

However, I’m beginning to fear that the old storyteller syndrome is destroying my chances with this one.  I’ll write her one more time very soon.