Who's Your Owner?

Speaking of compliments, while I generally got zero from the American white male population, middle-aged to older, especially short, Latino men seem to zoom in on me. But the moments are usually clouded by strangeness. Case in point:

you a looka good.
excuse me? you a looka very nice today. who's you owner?
excuse me?
who's you owner?
I'm sorry?
you owner?
what?
you married?
uh, yes.
then you husband, he's you owner!

White Lies

You know you have PMS when driving around Pasadena, crying to various White Lies songs (To Lose My Life) and regretting not being nicer to a certain cool Russian Dad who now lives in York (not ON York, alas, but in England). Except that being nicer could have meant all kinds of things I wasn't ready for. But still I cannot turn that frown upside down.

He said to lose my life or lose my love,
That's the nightmare I've been running from.
So let me hold you in my arms a while,
I was always careless as a child.
And there's a part of me that still believes,
My soul will soar above the trees.
But a desperate fear flows through my blood,
That our dead loves buried beneath the mud.

--- To Lose My Life, White Lies

Not So Sexy Addicts

Heroin addicts are really unappealing on the other hand. Even if they are comedians. They smell. Their clothes smell. They're on the nod all the time. They only talk about themselves. They're really itchy and scratch themselves all the time. I could go on. Wait! Is that Dave Navarro? Just kidding.

Sex(y) Addicts

In my next life, I'm going to marry a comedian. Come to think, why are so many comedians sex addicts? Come to think even more, why am I so attracted to sex addicts? Aside from A., of course, who's a virginal Aquarius who'd rather play the guitar and paint than chase tail, I really had 3 memorable affairs in my life: the guy with the hooker story, the other guy with the other hooker story and the guy with the fake modeling agency. I wonder what's up with that.

Men Are From Harvard

J. really thinks that women are not interested in seeing other women naked. I told him that women are even more interested than men in seeing women naked, being the critical judges of womanhood and everything they are. Then J. said, yes, but they aren't interested in watching women make out with other women on late-night TV, are they? As if that somehow proved his point. I cannot convince him otherwise. He also thinks that that chick on "Weeds" is naked only for guys watching. Puhleeze! And he thinks a woman would not be interested in the new Taschen book about Kubrick. Double puhleeze. And this, this from a Harvard graduate!

Winking

I think I winked at someone at work yesterday. It was a total involuntary reflex. The weird thing is, I have never ever winked at anyone in my entire life before. I must have been possessed by Bettie Page. Or Dolly Parton. This is the same guy who just started wearing his wedding ring due to a bet. What the heck? But the winking incident and the fact that I did not think about the feckin chocolate truffle all week, is a good sign. The chocolate truffle has become the Invisible Man. But he's so dumb, he wouldn't know about black nationalism, Marxism, and the racial policies of Booker T. Washington.

Pissing on Larchmont

Men are from Mars. I've always been one to defend the weaker sex, but the fact that they think they can piss anywhere...? I may need to reconsider. Got my tall nonfat latte before work on Wed. morning and as I waited at the red light on the corner of Larchmont and Third, a man pissed onto a telephone pole. It was 9:20 a.m.