Monday, January 31, 2011


Franks decision has been made after a weekend of talking things out with Standby, and right on time for her February 1st deadline!

The tipping point to initiate a conversation, one that had to take place eventually anyway, was my asking him if it bothered him, knowing I was still friends and hanging around with FNA. He said it didn't bother him, that he doesn't like “him” (he won't use his name) but, no, it didn't.

Then I took a shower. Thinking if I were in the opposite position I would certainly have problems with the whole situation, but then, I know the whole story - at least my end of it.

When I got out he asked, trembling, why I had asked him that (is it my imagination or was he just on the computer? Was he reading my blog?!). I told him that last time "they" were in the same proximity I noticed his mood was...different. He followed this up by asking if it was, in fact, over; but the way he said it, the change in his face and voice, told me that he probably knew and now was not the time to lie (plus he knows ALL of my tells - and has told me on several occasions that I am a terrible liar. I am; unless it absolutely calls for it because, as you know, I am not a fan of dishonesty)

“I don't know” I say. I am being truthful at the time. I really didn't.
“You don't know?” he asked, slightly astonished.
“Look, I don't know what's going on, he isn't really telling me anything” I say, pacing the living room.
“I don't understand” he says, “I thought it was over”

I faltered, stammered and then, slightly tearful, admitted to my feelings for FNA.
“I like him” I say, and tell him that I am “trying to work through it and get over my feelings”; and that's the part he never understood about the whole thing, but now it made more sense to him at this point and he began to cry. We talked for awhile, about the whole situation, there was crying and hugging and apologizing, in all combinations. He said it just confirms his “nice guy finishes last” belief, and figures my whole attraction to FNA is because he's a “bad boy” *insert Franks giggles here*

He also, finally, agreed with me that I am, in fact, slightly crazy. He also told me I need to see a therapist, which made me angry...and when I am angry I cry (it beats breaking my hand hitting a wall – or a person). After a longer discussion on therapy, and how at this point I didn't think it would do any good (been there, done that), we decide that maybe it's not the best for me.

“I peeked behind the curtain” he says.
“And you saw a naked girl dancing wildly, and stepped right in!” I joke back to him. Because despite everything that he and I have been through in the past three years, we are still able to laugh about painful subjects, we are still able to be friends and we will always be there for each other – no matter what.

We talked and discussed “us” and we came to an agreeable conclusion. And Frank came to a conclusion/decision of her own.

I apologize to my readers because, for now, my decision is secret. And with THAT, they both (FNA and Standby) will be to be removed from the focus of my blogging, and should matters between the three of us arise again, it will not be blogged about until it has a final conclusion; I will still be blogging about sex, dating topics and my crazy opinions on stuff, as they come up, in addition to more moderate topics.

Mmmmm, this cake is goooood. I hope it ends up being a big cake because, boy, Frank loves cake.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Organization = Mental Health?

The Organized Nature of Frank.
(not May)
A two-for-one day!

It's curious, I've always been a very organized person; when I travel I create a tabbed folder of maps, print outs, lists of attractions, emergency information and other goodies gleaned from hours of pouring over travel sites, books, magazines and my imagination. In many ways a lot of what I enjoy is the planning of a vacation – though the implementation of my plan is always exhilarating. Like a piece of art I save and file my travel folders; in my everyday life I have lists and lists laying around; I like to have structure (inside chaos) to my day; I like to plan and organize (even if I am not always so good at it); I like things to have places and for those things to be in them (even if it's in several baskets scattered around my apartment); I generally don't like to be left waiting (there are exceptions to that, but very specific exceptions); I have been known, until recently, for being the type of person who won't attend an event unless I have at least a week lead time; I have also cancelled plans with people if they did not confirm within 24 hours of the time we are supposed to meet, and when life prevents me from keeping my house organized (and clean) then with the clutter comes a fog in my brain, an inability to focus and chaos that's not welcome.

Since most of my life of planning hasn't turned out how I planned (not exactly, and not at all), and my recent experiments with dating and generally attempting “life off the cuff” (see: AND AND AND for illustration on things I don't normally do, but did anyway, just for the sake of experimentation) haven't produced results I desire – I am pretty sure disorganization in so many corners of my life (every corner) is what sent me over the edge of reason. (yeah, yeah, mix in the details and it's not exactly a revelation) – again. I am back to trying to organize and prioritize my life, and the people and things in it.

By the way, I am still working on some music posts – but my internet connection is doing it's 'molasses in January' bit after a brief fix just a couple days ago, and so the going is slow for providing adequate linkage and information.


Frank is fucked.

One week later and Frank is almost back to Square One, or back to the Giant 'Circle' of Hell, you pick your favourite. What I thought was “filed away” slithered right back into place, and now the lying is going to be harder. The lying to myself, impossible. And I don't like lying, I am terrible at it (I've been told by countless people, including Standby – two days ago). Withholding information works better for me than lying, and I'm still not so good at that.

Faced with an imminent decision, I will be spending the afternoon with Standby (brunch, museum and hot chocolate at the best place for hot chocolate in the city) – one thing I have to say for Standby, he knows how to entertain me (outside the bedroom, as well as in). This bodes well for his future.

The goal will be to try to not think about FNA/SA (<-the transformation begins) throughout the day, trying analyze why he is fucking with me. I don't really like feeling crazy (more crazy than I generally am, anyway).

So into my day with Standby. We (Standby and I) seem to spending a lot more time together lately (easier to know what I am doing if you are by my side I suppose)...and this is starting to grate on my nerves; I DO love spending time with him but it's increased three-fold in the past month; he even changed his cellular plan so he can text me more often, knowing that I don't like talking on the phone. Yes, very sweet, and if I didn't love him to pieces I would be more angry about all of it; it makes me mad (mad, not angry...know the difference). Makes, drives...I am going mad. These two men are driving me mad.

I know what I want, but what I want is a very silly, illogical, thing. I also have others to think about, Fabulous People for one. Without FP I'd have lost my mind during the trials of January...oh, wait, it's STILL January.

Armed with all sorts of new knowledge this time around, will Frank forge ahead with what she wants, knowing that, ultimately, it will end in disaster at some point – it's only a matter of time. Or can I ignore what I want this time? I know I should go for the one who cares for me, that would be logical.

Two days. Decisions. Reason tells me to go with the one who has the ability to tell me what he wants in clear, uncertain terms - no matter what it is that he wants – the one who can be honest with me – the one who isn't afraid. We'll see how the next two days play out.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Dead End

Nothing is clear, even after hours of talking with Standby (I sooooo need to change his name - he has always  officially been 'Sensational Standby' but for various reasons I have problems with referring to him as SS - and 'Standby' doesn't really express how important he is); though he has gotten some additional insight on what makes me tick the way I do (stories from much, much, younger days). With this new knowledge he claims to have a better understanding of me, and even with all the fucked up shit I poured onto him, he still wants to “wait” for me to get to the place I need. I told him he can't wait, it's not fair to him. He says despite the fact he is not feeling optimistic about “getting” me in the end, he can't not wait. This [his lack of optimism] doesn't have any relation to the FNA issue, as far as he is concerned that has completely ended...and it has, hasn't it.(?) Boooooo.


The night was a gentle splattering of questions and answers, pouring out of feelings (no tears on my end), ending on a light note - until I was stupid and checked my messages. (I never should have sent one first...stupid woman)
In came a message from FNA...debasing my “feelings” (his “emphasis” - but maybe he is just debasing feelings in general, not necessarily mine, doubt it though) neatly, and with the swipe of an insertion of a single quotation. Clouds passed over my eyes, and being as transparent as I am, Standby, who happened to be nearby and watching me, immediately became concerned.

What's wrong” he asks, gently (I can see him putting things together in his mind, jumping to correct conclusions).

Some people just like to fuck with me” I say point blank. Maybe his name should change from FNA to SA.

Dead end.

Friday, January 28, 2011


When the very recent past briefly reappears as a glimmer on the horizon (for christakes it's still in the re-view mirror) Frank faces it with bravery...but it's not likely to hold long. Weakness. [He's a] Stupid ass. I melt like butter under the spell of his kisses and it puts me into a daze.
(not butter, I's better than butter...and I couldn't say "I melt like bacon"...the visual just isn't as accurate...close, but not quite)
Everything's just so strange lately. I can't help but think that I am the victim of purposeful relationship sabotage, that for some cruel reason as I try to work past my feelings for FNA, and fix the broken parts of my relationship with Standby after the recent blow to it's structural integrity, he just pulls me back in after rejecting me all too recently, knowing that I am trying to fix things. And boy, does part of me want to play. It's too bad I care too much for Standby - also back in the picture right fast but likely not for long though, tonight is another one of those talking nights for us...oh fun, oh fun. Granted there are times (many) when open communication is important, but at this point it feels like I am beating a dead horse (<- writing that made me laugh out loud).

To even be blogging about him (FNA) is pissing me off right now. I had vowed I wouldn't blog about him, vowed to myself. I actually vowed it about both of them (Standby and FNA), but I never thought it would come down to those two, the only two I really feel like having around...and one is making me choose. (and when I do choose they are likely to disappear from my blogging, sorry readers) And part of me feels strongly that by choosing the one I want, I'll get rejected by him again, immediately or he'll drag it out just long enough and do it again, just because he thinks it's a game.

And really, who is sabotaging who? Am I imagining it, is he doing it on purpose? or am I sabotaging myself? With my mental health on the line for this one, Frank has more thinking to do - even though I know what I want. 

Setting the tone.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Crash and Burn

I feel I owe my readers an explanation...

Cleaning my slate for the new year ended in a crash landing with assist from a variety of different catalysts. Frank lost her mind for a better portion of a week, masking it long enough to hold herself together at work and crumbling into a frantic mess the minute she could safely do so, sometimes the unravelling began on her walk over the river, on her way home while listening to the favourites playlist that seemed to play all the songs that didn't help matters.

The worst part is that so many things went wrong all at the same time, in my friendships, in my romantic life, and in my workplace; things that threw me into fits of paranoia, sadness, heartbreak, anger, fear and disappointment. What a heaping plate. Throw in some recent health scares and you have a pile of Frank, a steaming hot mess, sobbing on the floor, and staring down the bottom of a few bottles of her favourite white (and a few fingers of scotch here and there, just to twist the knife), talking to herself about talking to herself...out loud. Yep, staring down the precipice of crazy.

The past 5 months I have been unlike I have ever been before and my experience turned me into a vile person, things I never wrote about along the the last months ate away at me, and while I adhere to my statements about relationships or dating; I still can't see the complete point if you don't want to get married at the end of it – which at the time of writing is not something I desire; I must alter my approach. For despite losing my mind I came out the other end softer; developing feelings does that I suppose.

I had intended on extending my crazy experimenting with dating for another month but situations arose like a vast wave and within two weeks I “lost” my two (and only, for over a month now, actually) favourite men...and decided to jump ship on the whole experiment. The turning point to my leap was “falling” for one of them, the one I couldn't have - the one that somehow gives me the impression that he thinks I am a giant evil whore. Going into it, knowing I couldn't “keep” FNA, I didn't think it was going to be a problem, having been able to not develop even a liking to the other men I had been seeing the last 5 months I felt I could handle it. I did a great job of lying to myself, now that I look back on it, possibly for months.

The biggest problem was that I liked him (FNA) as a person, I've always been attracted to men that have enriching qualities and he was no different. I thought he was intelligent, fun (when he wasn't being guarded), interesting (even though I'd tune in and out watching his lips), and I liked him despite the fact that he was a dispassionate charming ass, but I mean ass in the nicest way possible. And it's not that I want him wholly and completely; I just wanted him for a few hours a couple times a week.

And when I listened to my former-FNA talk to me, and saw my reflection in his words, I decided enough was enough. I knew the person I was putting out wasn't me, but a caricature of myself that was being fed by an ego fuelled by dating block heads and letting myself get carried away. Of course now, because I am bitter and in-like with him, I am acting petty and ridiculous most of the time when I am around him. For instance, checking out woman together should not bother didn't before, why should it now? Stupid irrational female.

Meanwhile, the other (Standby) fell madly in love with me. We ended the physical portion of our relationship after he discovered my dirty little secret (FNA) – which wasn't a secret because he told me he didn't want to hear about any other men I might be seeing. When will they understand, just because you don't hear about them doesn't mean you aren't creating them in your head. In any case he wasn't impressed, cited our unbalanced emotional investments as his cue to drop me, and sobbed when I told him I wasn't going to be able to give him what he wants right now, that I am not ready.

I am sure it doesn't help (him) that we've (Standby and I) been “seeing” each other on and off for over 3 years, each time being a turbulent twisted emotional three-way; the first time the balance was different - she was in love with me, I was in love with him and he was in love with her (don't get me started).

Standby has always been a clear choice in my head if ever we were single at the same time, for any length of time, and both ready; but, now I'm a big mess because at a time where I should be ready for the man who could be the everything to me, who loves me unconditionally (seriously, you don't know what he has put up with), who knows how to take care of my crazy (and loves me because of it)...wasn't the one who got me in the end. And to make matters worse the one who didn't want me, got me. Go me.

While Standby is eager to resume his previous position I am finding myself (reoccurring theme alert) disconnected. He has began suggesting different things to do when we resume our “relationship”, things I really want to do...just not with him. Things much more suited to FNA, which just makes me think of a few of the bullet points that make up the list of things that earned him the title FNA (Fantastic New Addition); and to put Standby in that role just seems wrong on many levels. Guess how much that sucks?

So, there you have it...amidst that recent turmoil between Ninja Princess (my bestie) and I (never mentioned that situation – far too upsetting, and intertwined with other matters), paranoia over my job, health scares, and “falling” for the one man I shouldn' have Frank, broken on the floor. And it's not even Febrauary. Crash...aaaannnnddd...BURN.

Frank is made of rubber, and bounces back fast – at least on the outside.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Like A Horse

A lot has been going on in "Franks" life lately, events spoken of, and those that can never be.

Honestly, the last few weeks have broken Frank, way beyond, and in a completely the opposite way that The Bull Rider "broke me".

My "spirit" has been broken, and ironically the only analogy that can be made is: "broken like a horse"

She laughs, bitterly.

A woman, who found herself, unfortunately, infallible, got a real wake up call in recent weeks.

Amends have been almost been completed and Frank will move on to a new chapter of her life.

The past few months (5) of experimentation with dating, and exploration of self, has led me to a bitter end on countless levels.

With this, my dear readers, let me usher in a new, and less, cynical view of dating.

Broken, like a horse. Something I needed.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Franks 51: Movie Recommendations

    While you wait...

I don't have a a favourite movie, I spent far too much time as a young adult, hold up in my apartment with my cat for far too long, watching movies endlessly while laying on the mattress on the floor of my “efficiency” (a single room apartment with a bathroom, very, er...uh...cozy). In addition I would go to the cheap seats multiple times a week (by myself, the cat stayed at home) - I consumed movies like I consumed food in those days.

I have a list somewhere of every movie I can remember seeing up to 2003? 2004? It's a document to be sure. Instead of rooting through back-up disks of information, to find the list in it's entirely, I instead off the top of my head I created the top 51 (the best I can remember - more recent movies generally not included)...51! without even mentioning the lesser quality, more easily digestible, good-because-they-are-terrible and funny; Better off Dead (early John Cusack), Vampires Kiss (very cheesy 80's movie with a young Nicolas Cage), 8 Heads in a Duffel Bag (can't I fit more?), Airheads (cast is priceless), Only You (yeah, it's terrible), Girl Interrupted (say what you want), But I'm a Cheerleader (OMG, lesbian/gay reform “school” hilarity), Being John Malcovitch (interesting concept), Slums of Beverly Hills (for all the right reasons), Mixed Nuts (heehee!), Death at a Funeral (the Belgium one, not the American one), The Wedding SingerWhip It, Juno, Drop Dead Fred (I bet you have no idea what that movie is about), The Man with Two Brains, The Jerk, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Shop Girl, Mad Love, Mr. And Mrs. Smith (for so many reasons), Sixteen Candles, The Road To Wellville...yeeps, I'm right off track.

Oh, and I noted the musicals and tricking you to watch them here.

  • Almost Famous
  • American History X
  • Army of Darkness
  • Blue Velvet
  • Brazil
    Breakfast Club
    Bridge to Terabithia
  • Bubba Ho-Tep
  • Capitalism: A Love A Story
  • Cassablanca
  • Chicago musical
  • Dirty Dancing
  • Drawn Together: The Movie (NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART – HIGHLY OFFENSIVE - I have yet to find an intelligent person to watch it all the way through with me)
  • Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb 
  • Eyes Wide Shut
  • Fight Club
  • Frankie and Johnny
  • From Dusk Till Dawn
  • Grosse Point Blank
  • High Fidelity
  • How to Lose Friends and Alienate People
  • Inglorious Bastards
  • Insomnia
  • It
  • Josy and the Pussycats (if only because it took me a bit to get what was going on, you know, the irony of it)
  • Monty Python (all)
  • Naked Lunch
  • Natural Born Killers – back when I could maintain a top 10, this was there
  • Newsies musical – a young Christian Bale
  • One Hour Photo
  • Pretty In Pink - classic
  • Princess Bride – awesome cheese, I can recite along with the movie
  • Pulp Fiction – how can you not like that
  • Quills – dark, disturbed, scandelous...the Marquis De Sade
  • Religulous documentary
  • Reservoir Dogs
  • Say Anything
  • Schindlers List
  • Secretary
  • Shaun of the Dead
  • Switch
  • The Invention of Lying
  • The Oh in Ohio
  • The Sound of Music musical
  • The Stand
  • Total Recall
  • Way of the Gun
  • Welcome To The Dollhouse
  • Wizard of Oz
  • Young Frankenstein (and other Mel Brooks Blazing Saddles, The Producers,
  • Zietgest documentary ...
Crap, then there is Silence of the Lambs, The House of Yes, Riding in Cars with Boys (hello soundtrack!), Poison Ivy, Bridge to Terabithia, Wild Things (mmm), Blast from the Past, The Truman Show, Oh Brother Where Out Thou, Batman (with Danny D.), Batman Begins (yum Christian Bale), Pushing Tin...Oh, and almsot everything Kevin Smith has made...that... and now I've lost you and that's way more than 51.

When I tell you I've watched a lot of movies (fat young adult, no friends willing to visit me in th country where I rented the room) I've watched A Lot of movies. Over a thousand if not more. That's why I can't just pick one...or fifty. But that list of 51 is rock solid tops in my mind. It's winter, why not rent some movies?

Like my love for movies, so goes my love for music...and books...and art...and photography...and travel...and well, we'll talk about that later.



Recent events in Franks life has been keeping her from articulating herself vis-à-vis blogging, sending her instead into a period of introspection and evaluation. Call it bringing her back to home base.

These events involve "my" two amazing...huh...uh...I sit here and can't find a word to describe them (maybe because they have exceeded my expectations), in any case, the two in question are FNA and Standby; Standby has been referenced only recently, and FNA has been briefly referenced throughout the last couple of months or so in blogging, most notably as the "Big Fish" mentioned in a December 2nd entry.

Both of these wonderful "suitors" - "suitors" only for lack of a word to categorize, or label them, there is no real way to do it - which I vowed never to blog about (my vows broken), now become the brief focus of this entry. Having been dropped by both of them within the same week, for various different reasons (one of which is basically clear, but at the same time unclear to me), I find myself at a place where I should evaluate my relationships (you know, now that they no longer exist in the context I want them to).

I can't help but laugh...

Monday, January 10, 2011

Sunday Boyfriends and Casual Dating Insight

Reading an awesome new blog I stumbled across, Dirty KnickersI was surprised to see a recent entry that echoes most of my own current desires for/in a relationship. It's good to know there are other like-minded women out there. (her motto, btw, is: “I like to air my dirty opinions in public. I guess you could say it's cathartic.” How can Frank not like that? Pretty sure that's what's keeping me sane.

Certainly I understand her desire, I have my Standby, who fulfils almost every single need that Samantha Ellis mentions she is looking for in her blog entry, My Quest For The Sunday Boyfriend. Those needs would be “stimulating conversations, a similar sense of humour and [...] spending time together which wasn't just physical”[1]. My own amendment to that would be that, if we are not being physical together then we should be doing something interesting together (conversation, activity), otherwise don't bother. I don't want someone hanging around me just because they have nothing better to do and they don't know how to spend time by themselves. Now that I think about it I may want an even more pared down version of The Sunday Boyfriend. Which I have. (though if you look up Sunday Boyfriend in the Urban Dictionary, it has a slightly different, albeit not by far though, description)

If she were in the same city as myself I'd offer to share mine, I don't need him on Sundays; I need him when I need him. Generally Thursdays.

Other things Samantha mentions also coincide with recent irritations that have led me to conversations with my girlfriends about men and their perceptions of the attention we bestow on them, whether it be expressed through gifts, compliments/flattery, an intimate touch/look; it doesn't mean we are “envisioning the pair of [us] as little edible people adorning the top of a wedding cake, during sex or otherwise.”[1]
As she says:
“I enjoy having sex with someone for the emotional connection as well as the physical one. And while detaching yourself from certain emotions is one thing, feeling like a giant hand is quite another. Hey buddy, did you know that connecting with someone in the moment is about more than just penetration? And just because a person maintains eye contact with someone while they're having sex does not mean they're envisioning the pair of you as little edible people adorning the top of a wedding cake?
I have two personal illustrations; first, a mild irritation, where the man got confused after spending a lengthy duration (2 days straight) with me during a holiday season, enjoying each others company in many obvious and different ways, including playing scrabble, watching documentaries, going to brunch... furthermore he figured since I spent a large amount of money on him for a fancy meal, that this also meant I was looking for something exclusive.

Listen. Being nice to a guy can mean a variety of different things, depending on the woman. I like to think there are others out there who have a similar viewpoint as myself. We/I not being of the disalluded fairy-tale ilk (clearly), we won't say that we don't believe that there might be a match for us out there somewhere; one who can meet our sexual, intellectual, emotional needs (I'm not talking girly romantic emotions either). Having said that, a females attention does not mean you are, or we think you are, that match.

In addition, there may be a selection of woman who enjoy treating “their men” well for other "odd" reasons. They may get off on doing things for them, giving them small gifts, making them feel special in creative and fun ways, even in the absence of any real permanent, or romantic feelings on the part of the woman for the man. This has to do with another sort of topic, not for this entry.

This simulated intimacy, as mentioned, can carry over to the bedroom too, wherein an intimate touch, say the absent minded holding of fingers during an intimate act, or a look during the act of sex, can be misread by the other if they are concerned about the woman being emotionally attached to them. This is a concern in the back of the mind of the one who wants to make sure they're not being misread.

This leads to my second illustration, where an absent minded linking of fingers during an act with ...a man very hard to describe in one sentence...sent waves of concern/paranoia/insecurity through me, causing me to pull my hand away quickly, hoping that that act also did not lead to misread signals. Why should the casual dating female be worried about this?

Misread signals lead to inevitable conversations on defining the relationship (in most cases), and let's be honest, nobody wants to do that more than once - a discussion, I find, seems inevitable at some point, which I guess is good if there is open communication between partners (which I am a supporter of in all relationships, friends and otherwise) - but that doesn't mean I don't think it's a pain in the ass; and if it's not the right time for the discussion then it's a bigger pain in [my] ass; or alternately misread signals may send a signal to a casual lover that it's time to end the contact, in attempt to prevent further "attachment".

Getting back to ironing out the wrinkles in this, to get a better understanding of a new frontier of relationship styles, and how the people involved get their needs met without complication, boil it down to a very basic explanation that probably applies to most casual female daters (not this one, exactly, however BUT everything I mentioned applies), these simple acts, like special attention, small gestures of tender physical contact, private exchanges, the creation/illusion of intimacy; it's all about building a connection (even an artificial one), to make being taken away by the moment that much more spectacular, is what a good encounter is all about.

Friday, January 7, 2011

A Dating Update - Stuck On Recycle

Seriously, this year has started set on recycle somehow.

Thinking that I had “rid” myself of The Plumber, The Icelandic and TDF (Third Date Flunkie) in December -  I prepared to set out the new year with just my “standby” (have never talked about him – likely will not) and Fantastic Special Edition ... oooo, he earned a name for himself. Too bad I'll never discuss him again.

Anyway, thinking I was going to start off the year new, with little complication, call me surprised when all three of them began contacting me again at the same time. Day 7 of the New Year and I'm back at square one.

Granted The Icelandic never went to far, at the end of December he went MIA for awhile, only to re-appear and then freak right out. I “broke” up with him in the sense that I explained to him I did not foresee the possibility of a relationship for us, however I enjoy his company, his friends, and would still like to see him on occasion. He confessed that he thought I was ”to good for [him] anyway”.

In what context he meant it I don't know. (i.e. I was too good of an influence [yes, strange to imagine, but a possibility with this one *ting of my halo*], or generally just too good. I choose to think it's a combination of the two. He agreed that staying friends would be nice, as he also enjoys my company, citing me as an interesting person.

The Plumber sent me a message, wishing me a happy new year and telling me he misses me. Want to take me call him tomorrow because he wants to take me out tomorrow night. Hmmm. Really? Pretty sure I'm always rude to him...
So I told him “maybe”. Hey, I could use an adventure.

TDF started FB chatting with me, and texting me, every day. His request is that I allow him to take me out again, I asked him what the purpose of that would be, he said “to catch up”. I flat out told him that he only wants to take me out because I bruised his ego. No response. I told him I'd have time for him in February, maybe.

So, while I am still planning on sticking with my dating hiatus for January, I might decide that a little recycling is okay. A girls gotta have fun;)

Meanwhile, while I try to get myself ahead of this dating curve (this is all new territory for me), I'm working on some music posts and some other stuff. I hope I'm back, stick around!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Agalmatophilia - If You Have It Your Partner Doesn't

Recently I watched a documentary on strange love practices, the show was called National Geographic Taboo: Strange Love.
The opening piece is about 'idolators' - their term, not mine. I looked into it, and the actual name for the "affliction" is Agalmatophilia [sexual attraction to a statue, doll, mannequin or other similar figurative object; Wikipedia]. That's a mouthful. (dirty)

Initially I thought "Weird!", but the more I began to think about it the less weird it became; I mean it's still a, but who am I to judge?

Why did it become not so strange to me that these men have sex with synthetic objects meant to represent the anatomics of a woman, and happen to pretend to have a life with it/them/he/she?
Beware! Adult Topic Alert:

Woman have been having sex with synthetic objects for as long as synthetic objects have been in existence (and before synthetics, organics, yes, gross gross gross, but you know it had to have least once.)

The thing is "we" don't dress ours up and have a meal with it. *pause for mental picture*
So, they became fixated with their object, what woman among us has not thought, or even exclaimed (likely at a Passions Party), "I love my vibrator!".

Some people just have better imaginations and don't need the whole package.
Other pieces in this episode of Taboo includes a couple with an "open" relationship in Australia, a polygamist in the UK, and child bride sales in Nepal.

See this is what you get when I go on dating hiatus.

It's not totally a hiatus though...but I'm saving that for a special occasion. I'm not saying it's good, I'm not saying it's

Monday, January 3, 2011

Happy New Year from Frank

Welcome to 2011!

I plan on buckling down and getting back into blogging very soon - just have to get back on top of my life after all the holiday hustle around work.

See you soon!