serendipti's Diaryland Diary 2:11 a.m. - Sunday, Jul. 10, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- change of friendster profiles so friendster has gotten very aggressive, of late, wrt sending you updates of people who update, and between the reminders of the existence of friendster bday reminders and friendster blogs, I feel like I have needed to update my friendster profile. It seems these days that there are many people out there, as we reach our late twenties early thirties, and I am talking, in my case, boys, who seem to be re-surfacing, from out of the blue, and checking in with me, via friendster....and invariably their profiles say 'single,' and I am beginning to realize that many of these man boys are coming to a place in their lives where they are going through thier mental rolodexes of women they once connected with and never had anything with, or might have had something with but screwed it up....or just women that they think were cool....and so I am getting an increased frequency of friendster requests from cool, old guy friends, and i have also gotten a few calls from guys who have shared with me their most recent relationship sob story, and then turn to me rather plaintively, looking for some comfort, but certainly something more, and all I can afford them is a shrug of the shoulders and cluck of the tongue and a, "well, maybe you should not jump into relationships before you know the woman well enough to trust her with your heart." And maybe I have not been bit by the bug that makes people get marriage crazy, but the thought of being on that boat makes me want to jump ship. I am bloody updating this friendster page as my big brother told me not to list myself as being in an 'open marriage,' which I am currently not in (desafortunadamente). Well, let me start off by saying I am absolutely convinced that i am the shit. the scheiBe. the bomb scheiBe, in fact. I do not have many self esteem issues, and I tend to err on the side of ego. I am loud, sometimes obnoxiously so. I tend to make people laugh which is prolly the thing I like most about myself. I make waves and stir the pot in whatever setting you put me in. i am fiercely loyal, stay in touch with people obsessively (my phone is an appendage...I try to cut down on usage, but it somehow never works out), and I need to figure out how I can learn the guitar, learn to surf, and get strong enough to manage a single pull up in the next year (these are my consistent resolutions year in and year out). I love a good meal, a good book, a good friend, a good movie. quote i like, " be thankful you have something to do and someone to do it with." I tend to be very thankful. ANYWAY, BACK TO THIS JOURNAL ENTRY. that intro to me is a bit much, even for me, and so here is the newer version that I just wrote. It is 2:22am and I just got back bit ago from this burlesque show. I just changed my clothes and realized I smell of smoke, and maybe I would go out more if I didn't have to be around so much smoke. damn shame really. this burlesque show was awesome and hilarious and shocking and gross and titillating. Anyway, I looked nice, and as I drove over there, I realized I never go out, and when I was waiting for my friend to show up, walking from my car to the street corner, I got so so so hollered at it made me pretty uncomfortable. Because now that I have gotten comfortable just being in more fitting, cuter, girlier clothes, I have realized there is a whole set of attention that one gets that requires getting used to, and I do not know whether I can get comfortable with being catcalled so often on the street. Or having those kinds of looks directed at me. And trust me people, I was not hooched up....fitted jeans and a tank top.....I mean, I did look damn good, especially since my hair is growing out and was having a good day, but I guess years and years of baggy clothes have really rendered me unprepared for this sort of attention and has made me used to a certain degree of anonymity or wall flower-like sexuality, that it is weird being in the place that I am in. my new profile: i just went to a dyke-friendly burlesque show at Spin. Let's just say that one of the performers had a holster around her waist, fully loaded with hot dogs (or weiners, if you will), and by intermission I had mustard on my elbow. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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