Yesterday when I first set out to post this entry, something looked wrong. I sat in front of the screen puzzled, crinkling my forehead. I erased the title a few times, but replaced it soon after. It was something I wanted to say. The video clearly reminded me of one particular group. But this title, The Chorus of a Shakesperean Tragedy? Didn't seem right. But I posted it anyway.
Then this morning, whilst in the shower it hit me....Greek Tragedy. The oddest little thing finally rose to the foreground of my brain, almost twelve hours later. Random shit at random times. I'm not changing the title. It irks me that the reference would have been extremely intelligent has fallen stupidly to the side, but it's how my brain works at times.
I have to describe ordinary objects in order to get the word. "That agile creature that hisses and purrs. You know...the one that isn't a dog?" It makes for a good laugh but frustrates the hell outta me.
So...yes, I know there is a big ol' mistake at the very beginning of this post. But what I meant to say was that group of people in plays like Oedipus Rex that wail and cry and emphasize the tragic outcome of those heroes from that distant ancient land also known as Hellas! Yeah.
Last week, one of the gray-haireds I work with used the most interesting euphemism. I was feeling a little eh and said so aloud. She asked me questions flu related, which I answered no. Then she says, "have you been....exposed?"
I understood immediately what she said but still asked her to repeat herself. With a gesture indicating a belly swollen with child, she asks again "have you been exposed?"
I caught the laughter in my throat. The surprise escaped, however, in an adamant "Oh god, NO!"
Ladies and gentlemen....after years of whining about my celibacy, I have been exposed. And it's made me worse for the wear, ie. I'm fucking hornier than before. The tiger repressed all these years has been unleashed and she's a good ol' fashioned Hall and Oats Man-eater.
Ah, come on. You know you want to. Go ahead, sing along.
Ohhhh, here she comes. Watch out, boys, she'll chew you up.
Yeah, I need more exposure. Helluva lot more exposure
Bloody crapping hell! I need a fucking overhaul!
Is it ennui? Depression? Loneliness?
I don't think it's for lack of wanting to write. Or lack of genius and creativity. I know I'se gots da words. Good god, they're packed tight in my effin cranium. They're screaming to get out but dammit!
No inspiration, perhaps?
Maybe it's just time to close this pop stand down. I've noticed the trend that some of my favorite writers have either ended their online journals or post shit now too.
Disco is gone, which is probably one of the most disheartening things.
Dooce writes less and posts more pictures.
Sundry is still around...thank goodness...with her light hearted approach to insanity known as parenthood. More pictures of JB with chalk penis and zombies, please.
Planetthoughtful exists in a different format and finally he's writing the good shit again; but the craptastic stuff with his friends is well....craptastic.
I miss Kane at Esoteric Bowl and his posts...although sporadic, I could count on them. Now...I must be satisfied with his photography alone, which is mighty fine but I do miss the words!
I still have Paul at No Milk Please. That is my pinoy! Paul, please more NO MILK!
My Google reader is filled mostly with photography sites, which post almost regularly. I am both addicted and covetous.I want a DSLR soooooo bad. I have new additions like Jenn at She Likes Purple and Melissa at Sarcomical. My above loves are there too, and I just wait patiently for their new posts. Sometimes, I wait a long time.
So, maybe that's it. People are getting bored with their sites as well. No inspiration or no one to entertain. Maybe they are censoring and filtering their lives more and have less to say. I don't want to go but I need some thing to kick me in the ass and convince me to stay. Seriously...this isn't the time for lurking. I am asking for advice and suggestions. Anyone?Bueller? Bueller?
Oh, how both disturbing and amusing is that photo at the top? Did you know I found it at a website that discusses Mayan religion? Enemas helped induce spiritual trances. Did not know that. Figured eating or smoking the peyote was enough. But no! Wow. The joyous grin on that chick's face. Again, I can only say wow. Like the next person, I know after any sort of constipation, emotional or um...otherwise, a good explosion to unleash the stuffiness of it all can be nirvana. But that grin? Perhaps those eager archaeologists sweating in the hot mesoamerican sun uncovered a stash of good ol' fashion porn that some ancient Mayan dad was hiding on the top shelf of his closet; but after six months of searching for the mysteries of life and the genesis of an extinct people, those underpaid archaeologists with their jaws agape in embarrassment said, "Fuck it! Mystic sacred rites!"
Lastly, Disco.....please come back!
I am afraid of relationships. Believe I have mentioned this a few times before. I recently commented on my Facebook that I have a self-imposed dating moratorium because of the social ineptness that I suffer. But at the same time, I cry about being alone. Conundrum, right?
Years ago, I visited a psychic. I'll leave it up to you whether you believe in that sort of thing. Whatever. Natalie hit on some key things with me. Again, whether she is just great at reading a person's body language or if she has a real gift is besides the point. She brought to light my concerns about dating, pointing out that I wonder why I don't even get approached by the wrong ones. And here is the 'well, duh' moment. She told me that I don't allow anyone to get near me. I have a wall allowing no access to me. I put out a signal that says, "Stay away. Leave me alone. Don't touch me. Don't even look at me."
Yes....It doesn't take a rocket scientist or psychic to know this. And yes, you can give the same bit of psychic advice to seventy-five percent of the population and be spot on. It doesn't take away any of the power of what she said to me that day.
I don't know how though to reverse the damage of this exile. How do I put myself out there? Especially with crippling self esteem. I want to say yes more to moments that can expose me to new people.
Let me tell you what happened to me at work yesterday with a little back story.
My boss/friend introduced me to this guy a few days ago. Let's call him Texas....because I've always wanted to call someone that. Anyway. We have been talking and IMing each other and we have some chemistry. I expect nothing out of this because I am fucked in the head, but I also would be lying if I didn't get all girly on you and say that I worry that he'll be turned off by my appearance if/when we meet in person.
He knows where I work via our mutal friend. So whilst working yesterday, a customer approached the store and was served by the other manager. I turned and saw the guy who looked very much like Texas, and this guy was staring intently at me. Suddenly, all rational thought and levity in my heart escaped and I became emotionally retarded. I walked to the back and started shaking because I had "Oh my god! He sees how fat I am and I'll never hear from him again. Worse...he'll be cruel to me." running through my head. I even checked the credit card receipt he had signed to see if it was him. I was convinced it was because the name, although scratchy and illegible, looked like his name. Again....I was convinced.
Reminder....I'm not looking at this beyond the beginnings of meeting a new friend and yes, flirting has been occurring. But that moment shook my core. My insecurities plague me and my age is overwhelming me. I'm steadily becoming spinsterly. I was upset the rest of the day and actually fucking cried about the situation to one of the older women who works with me.
If just trying to be friends and beginning to connect with a guy is this hard for me, how the hell do I expect to survive the actual dating process that I so long to jump into?
I can't do it. I am too fucking scared. And seriously...what the fuck do I have to offer any man? Texas has said aloud that we need to get together and hang out. Watch a movie or something. And in the few days I have known him, I've already heard his exasperated sigh. He says it would be nice but despite my saying that we will, he knows I won't.
I want to get to know this guy. I want to have something more than what I've had in the past regarding weird relationships with men. But I am fucking scared to the point of absolute mental anxiety and neurosis.
This Thursday I have an open invite to go and hang with him. I want to but fear to. No expectations of anything. But still huge potential for sordid things. I don't know what to do. Stay hidden and play it safe with conversations and texts? Or do I just get it done and over with by going?
Seriously, could there be anything more delicious than Pomegranate 7Up? Oh, wait. Yes. Sierra Mist Cranberry Splash.
Oh, why do you hate me so much?! To tease me with holiday only drinks? The torture of another year of wait.
DAMN YOU! SCOOBY DOO!
I'm a horrible resident of the blogosphere, which could be a very good compliment. Anyhoo, I've discovered it's National Delurking Day (or sometime in the last twelve days or in future days....the day has, is or will occur.)
To celebrate, you just announce yourself in the comments section of those blogs you read. I'm off to say hello to my favorites. Please celebrate the day. Say hello in the comments. Are you a long time listener, first time caller? Or just passing thru?
I've a crush on a little person. The actor Peter Dinklage who I think is a nice looking man and a great actor. Emmy thinks it strange. And I guess to some it may be.
When I was in middle school, I was taller than most people. I am actually the same height now as I was then. And I was very self-conscious of the fact. You know me. I'm entirely too self aware and uncomfortable in my body. Imagine me at thirteen. It made it a bit worse because the guys I liked were always shorter than me. I felt like the jolly freakin green giant next to those cuties.
To illustrate how awkward it was for me, I was madly in love with my best friend Brian. I was also taller than him during the middle school years. And to compensate for what should have been silly giggliness of girls, I would ask Brian if he had grown any taller. In retrospect I know I probably made him feel self conscious of his own height. But I was always waiting for him to catch up so that I would perhaps get the nerve to ask him out.
Good god, it was horrible and he dated one of my closest friends in middle school. Talk about crestfallen Naomi. There I stood the five foot nine inch giant with curly fro-ish hair, Asian eyes, glasses and dorky body aching for my best male friend who dated the cute blond closer in height and style to him....
Sooooo, here I sit admiring a man who stand a full one foot and four inches shorter than me. And I entertain the thought of going out with a guy like him. But sexually....I keep thinking of that damn Vern Troyer video. And I suddenly become a heightist. Good grief.
One of my dearest and most important friends, Hristos has a blog. I try to read it but it's Greek to me....literally, it's Greek. In order to glimpse into his life, I translate the page. Unfortunately, I'm confused even more than if I had never translated.
Hristos....I love you so much. And this is no reflection of your English because you are the shit! (I wonder how that would translate into Greek. Incidentally, Hristos is a teacher. ESL. He IS the shit!). I owe the humor of these paragraphs to Google Translation.
from The Bread entry:
Stop the car out of the oven. I am and passes through a loaf of bread. Emerges from the oven and get in the car. Eugenia to look surprised.
-What are you doing!
-yyyy got bread ...
-From when we eat bread at home?
-yyyy ... for children?
-I think parapires seriously husband role!
from Married entry:
As you change the blog format. Plus Christos made in Tarzan, took the girl and left Tsita the banana in the ear ...! The tab-tiout made from the jungle to get to the uncharted ocean of marriage partner.
from The best 24 atakes Al Bunty entry:
17. AUEB, for half a minute. The beautiful daughter-in my mind a fruit-won one thousand dollars in three days? Should be worried?
Watching the video without sound is just as enjoyable. There's just no justice in trying to comment on this guy's moves. But I try. I'm positive you'll have your own little captions pop up.
In the ninja versus pirate debate, Calvin always chose ninja because he knew they had the coolest dance clubs.
Before the Family, little Charlie Manson aspired to be a dancer in a Broadway review.
Dwight's friends tried to convince him that there wasn't any nitrous oxide in the ventilation system and this wasn't Studio 54.
Every girl's eye was on him, and Roger thanked himself for remembering his Axe Body Spray. He was going to get lucky tonight!
This year's winner for the most original white boy dance is Hrothgar Smith.
AGGGHHHHHHHH! The bees! Damn the bees!
Woke up because of the puppy and her insane belief that two a.m. is playtime. Actually, I woke up because Emma saw some weird figure cross this little grassy knoll by our apartment and was spooked. Zelda took it upon herself to just be up too.
Anyway....been going thru old posts and I found this Questions post. Thought I'd give a new entry and ask other questions. So...here they are with my answers attached. Feel free to answer in the comments or in your own blog. Leave me a link so I can read them.
If you could get away with one particular crime, what are you itching to commit? Robbery. And I want it to be a huge heist like an Ocean's Eleven sort of thing. Plans and schematics and timetables and partners. I'd love to pull that off.
Without limitation or boundaries or barriers, what would you want to be when you grow up? A spy with a license to kill. I want the gadgets and the secretive, stealthy way of moving. I want the rendevous with sexy double agents and adrenalin pumping ninja fights atop skyscrapers. Talking about James Bond, baby! Naomi, Just Naomi....Double-O Me.
With unlimited funds to your name, what would you buy? An island. Just like Richard Branson's Necker Island. Now, if I could put that on an Amazon.com wishlist, I sure as hell would.
Favorite scar? Why? I love scars. I almost said that I don't know why but I understand perfectly my fascination with them. A reminder that we survived something that threatened our being. Granted, the little scar on my leg I acquired during a crabbing trip in North Carolina was not as a result from a death defying incident, but still. My favorite is a toss-up between two. I have one my left wrist below my thumb. I was in the fifth or sixth grade when I tried to hop a friend's fence. I flipped over it like an idiot and sliced my wrist open just enough to scar it forever. The other is on my right pinkie. Living in Indianapolis during my middle school years. I was washing dishes when a glass shattered in my hands. A large chunk of it sliced the skin, which folded like a flap on my finger. It's an ugly scar but I like it.
Worse gift you can receive? A stuffed animal. Don't get me wrong. I had my fair share of them when I was a child, teenager, etc. But as an adult, what do you do with them? I feel a tremendous amount of guilt and sadness when I donate them or get rid of them by other means. Those loved ones that gave them had thought of me and cared enough to show some affection in a sweet way. But what do I do with it? Don't you find it creepy when an adult has a million stuffed animals in his/her bed? And storing the vast collection of them in your closet? I still some that I can't bear to part with my favorite being a little brown bear I received for my eighth birthday. I don't know who gave it but I love the thing. Still....what do you do with it? Buy me a pen or a journal or paint or something like that.
What's your comfort food(s)? Mashed potatoes, cheese. Both of those things, I will walk into a grocery store and immediately pick up and feel happier. No gravy on the mashed potatoes, please. Eck! I love the way they feel in the mouth. And warm and settling in the belly. And cheese! I can go thru a block of cheese like there will be no tomorrow and lactose intolerance is a figment of the medical society's imagination. Yum! people. I have a few others but those two are tops.
Would you go to a nudist beach/colony and be nude? Hell, freakin yeah! I am a nudist at my core. Naked skin is one of the greatest things. And having no hinderances like clothes or social restraints? Who could say no?!
My dad's dog had to be put down tonight. My sister called to tell me. Mixed feelings. She was an old dog. Seventeen years. I've never known an older dog. She lived a long life and it was a good one. But of course, I miss her and I hate losing someone that I love.
The sadder thing is that it felt like Kayla was the last connection to my dad. Having her around was almost like Pop was still around. Now, it's like a portal has closed. A relationship has been severed. And I miss my dad more.
Kayla was a great dog. Part Chow, part husky. Proctective of the family but so gentle with all the grandchildren. I have photos of Emma, months old, near Kayla. She never snapped at Em or my nephews when they were too rough with her tail. Always corralled them when they were over zealous in the backyard. Even in her senior years, she allowed my nephews to be handsie with her without a nip or growl.
Kayla, Thank you for years of protection, love and fun. You were an amazing dog and I am ever so happy that you are with Pop now. I love you, puppy!
At least for me. I do believe the lack thereof of the following needs has stunted my growth; and it is also my conclusin that I will spontaneously combust if I do not satisfy these basic needs.
public displays of affection
fucking....lots of fucking
fucking..mentioned twice because it's so nice
Wanting a boyfriend who could provide this responsibly but will be just as happy with a friend boy that could fill in for the meantime.
hmmmm...sounds a bit desparate. AH! But I feel that I am. Lacking in the intimate interactions between two people can drive a person to drink. I think we underestimate the impact of this connection. I am going mad because of the absence.