The "L" Word Is Not "Lesbian."

I've heard several accounts of how relationships should progress, and I don't buy any of them. I've had a couple of years to think about what relationships are and what makes them effective. Yes, effective. Not fruitful, because even I'm not that idealistic.

Some say, "Everyone settles." That's crap. I won't settle. I'll compromise, and don't argue that that's semantics. I know exactly what I want, and I'll get that. If it comes with a few unanticipated extras, so be it.

And it's pretty basic, really. All I want is someone who impresses me and who knows when to tell me to shut up.

Dating as a way of experiencing others to see what you like. Absolutely. BUT. I add one qualifier. I won't date or waste my time on anyone I know I can't marry. Suddenly, it makes sense why a lot of Jewish guys won't date outside their faith. If I can't see myself ending up with you, there is no point in my being there. That is not to say that, if the experience turns out otherwise, it was worth nothing. You add things to the "I can't marry somebody who..." list, and you move on.

Now, about that L word. I hate it, and I hate being pressured to use it. When I'm in love with someone, I feel like I could be with that person forever: have kids, grow old, and forget his name in my age-induced dymensia. Though I've had snippets of this feeling in the past, I can't honestly say that I've ever fully felt it. Besides my friends, I've never looked at someone and thought that I could talk to them every singe day for forever. I get bored of people very quickly, and it makes me wonder whether I'll every truly love someone. Especially since I'll never settle.

Product Review: Intuition Razor

Besides all the negatives involved with shaving in general, the only problem with this razor is getting that infuriating Jewel song stuck in your head each time you shave.

Hmm.

On Monday, I drove for four hours in silence. My thoughts were enough to fill up that time, and then some. I am not sure if this is good or bad, but I am sure that I didn't want the radio or my phone interrupting me.

My Hands Are Shaking

Every time I read something written about my Mom, it gets me frustrated to the point where I shake all over. I had a friend call me about some blog posts about my mom, and I just read them. Not only is it embarrassing, but it is also so upsetting to see the crap people say without any regard for who may be reading. The Internet, for all its benefits, is a coward's tool. Maybe I'm being ironic. I dunno.

I've seen my entire family trashed. Mostly, they've been trashed by criminals and, in my experience, perjurers. I've seen people lie about ME and my actions straight to a judge's face.

It's simply sad that people eat up the yellow crap. You can talk about small-town politicians all you want, but in the end, they're still small-town politicians, and you're still nobody.

I thought this would help, but I'm still livid.

The Beginning of Something Dreadful, Maybe.

Today, I started The Wire from Season One, Episode One. Pray for me.

Musings

I recall a time--I may have been 11--when I found an Aerosmith CD among my sister's stack of jewel cases. I couldn't stop staring at the image of a cow's udder pierced with a gold ring. I couldn't tear my eyes away, partly because I knew it was a perverse image.

Once, I kissed a guy whose chest smelled of lime. In the morning, his breath tasted like cigar smoke.

"If Thatcher and Reagan Had Bred, Democrats Would Be A Lot More Scared Than They Are Now."

Upon my asking what date it was, one of my students raised his hand last Saturday and said, "Miss, it's the ides of March." I almost cried I was so happy.

One if the teachers with whom I work told his class a story from his vacation, during which he mistakenly found the spot at which Julius Caesar died. ON THE IDES OF MARCH!! His story made me squirm, and it gave me chills.

Often, I wish I had more time with these kids so I can teach them everything I know. Sometimes, I see them get excited about learning stuff, and that excites me.