Well, Lindsay feels, as far as I go, she is in competition with Abbey - who is taller and younger than her. Abbey feels SHE is in competition with Angie, who is taller and younger than HER. I don't know why they operate along these parameters - since I am relatively short, and older than all of them. Doesn't make sense. Not that their relationships to me are anything special - or anything portending anything special. I don't feel its any big deal - its all part of natural flirting. However, they all seem to think that I am extraordinarilly cute - for I have heard them say so. After I told Abbey I didn't want her to consider quiting, Lindsay backed away from me, and handed it to Abbey - believing that to have two or more girls interested in me at the same time would be unfair - it would be the immoral Ashley thing. This is unfortunate, because niceness belongs to everyone. Or, it should. So, Lindsay tells Angie that, "Abbey's really the one he likes... because she's blonde... He likes blondes..." How she knows I like blondes is beyond me - since I also like girls with black hair, etc. I definitely thing Lindsay is cuter than Abbey - as far as APPEARANCES go!!!!!!!!!!! Unfortunately, it seems that Lindsay is one of those low-self-esteem (hidden) girls who think that all men care about is appearances. Sad, so sad. Well, if it could be said - Abbey has a few things that Lindsay does not - things which I feel are at least just as important as appearance - which are conscienciousness and sensitivity - the most so since Kim at B&N. Abbey also reminds me a little of Kris - with that sweetness, and high voice, mixed with a rough-and-touble realness.
Well, I tried to talk to Lindsay about Australia after this, and she just didn't spark. Oh, there also a rumour there that I am an alcoholic - since I always have headaches, and I said I drink beer occasionally!!!!!!! Notoriety is fine by me.
But the story is this: Lindsay won't take any guy in the here-and-now seriously because she's lost in this dream of one day marrying a Chicago CUBBIE! That way, she can gossip and critice her sister Ashley, or me, or any guy or relationship that she wants to. And she does! That's ALL she does! So, all these young guys come up to her and try to impress her with their sports savvy, and she just let's them slide off like water off a duck's back. But, how she does huddle and pass the ridicule, rumour and scorn with all the young dudes - it is a veritable pastime. Since she plans to marry a Cubbie one day, that means she is morally superior TODAY - and that means she has the right to pass moral judgement on people who are basically minding their own business - i.e., who are not kissing her selfish little ass - i.e., who are free, moral, and here-and-now. All behind their backs - sometimes even gossipping about them where they can see or hear it. Well - my outrageous statments that I have overheard harmless words wafting in that cafe has put a little damper on this in-your-face back-stabbing. SO now, when she and her friends want to blab about me, they take their cell phones outside.... And, so I am more of a threat than ever - simply because I state the obvious - the here-and-now! "I heard you like Australia"... or "You were so excited when you graduated from Harlem!" You know - average conversation-starters. I don't know - maybe cute guys aren't supposed to do this?????????
I'm not lying when I say they've all come on to me, in a flirty way - Lindsay especially gets all disoriented when she sees me, acting foppish...
Well, here am I, so totally here-and-now - not here to be seen, not here to make fun of anyone - just here to wake up, maybe make a friend, and TO WRITE. That's something that's throws Lindsay's grand plan way outta wack!
Instead of going to that cafe today - as I usually do, (to read the TUESDAY NYT), I came here to the RVC ERC, by the way. Where can I go where this nonsense will not follow me???????????? Abu Ghraib?????????????
And then there's this guy Josh who comes in and stares at me, and makes jokes behind my back. Its like I've got a big turd on my head, that I am totally unaware of!!!!!!!! Well, actually, if I had something REAL like a turd on my head, then that would give them an excuse to come out in the open and do their worst.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl names Lindsay. She adored her father, who was something of an ill-tempered idiot - unpredictable, untrustworthy - but full of promises. Lindsay was taught that if she prayed hard enough, not only wuld she go to heaven - but Daddy and Mommy would love each other, instead of getting a divorce. So Lindsay prayed and prayed, and still couldn't stop the divorce. She began to see that the way her MOMMY prayed seemed a lot more practical - instead of saying, "Dear God, give me this or that," her Mommy would say, "Dear God, did you hear about Misses Smith and that young landscaping guy down the street?!"
And so Lindsay began her career as an insatiable gossip. She felt that to gossip was to pray - and if she gossipped enough, eventually she could bring Daddy back home. As she reached puberty, this was revised to: "If I gossip hard enough, eventually I will marry a Cubbie!"
And, thenceforth, Lindsay's head detatched from her heart, and spiralled away into the future, somewhere in Chicago, leaving her heart to bumble around blindly in the real world, always calling back to her: "Hey Lindsay, are we there yet? Hey Lindsay, are we having fun yet?!"
"Australia is just so pretty!"
"Woops. You blew it again!"
And you will know her by her trail of dead......
Parts of my profile from American Singles!::::::::::
I am Multifarious Man: suave, intelligent, creative, funny, friendly, intense, sympathetic, bored, and fast asleep. Variously into: music, nature, pop physics, health, art, traveling, chocolate, chocolate and, occasionally, chocolate-covered peanuts. Always wanted to know the meaning of life; to save the world, to get special discounts. I cook. I make people smile. I do a little dance. I sing a little song. I brake for pedestrians. I am kind. I am sensual. I have feelings. I have the time of day. According to one personality test, I am a "Cocker Spaniel". I am a little mischievous, rebellious, unsettled, but also traditional and romantic. My IQ is 138, (lower when not wearing glasses). Although absent-minded, I am hyper-responsible. I have my own park. I have friends in hiee plazas. I am attractive, so say the beautiful people. Some people view me as a mirror . . . and try to get me smashed! I am together. I am One. I am hungry. I am passionately POETIC. I am very interested in what makes people tick, and am currently working on a humorous sociological novel. I sing well, unless my harmonica is in my mouth. My inner rock star is said to be Ricky Martin, but I think I am actually Bono, a relative of the Chimpanzee. I like: alternative/progress ive, dance, ska, reggae, punk, goth/romantic. Blink-182. Sublime. Coldplay. Black Eyed Peas. No Doubt. Cure. Mathew Sweet. Cardigans. Sixpence. Dave Mathews Band. Weezer. Beatles. Avril Levigne. Nirvana. White Zombie. Misfits. Rancid. Celtic. Salsa. Sleepy time music. I'm all over the map. Summary: I am cute, funny, smart - but also very caring, committed, sensitive and warm. - Oh - Financially stable? I have enough $$$ - on a paid hiatus this last year. Presently working towards serious, lucrative future. Money is a good thing. Detachable eyebrows sold seperately. Always signal a turn. Eat at Joe's. Wisdom is the retention of innocence through adversity. There's a bird on your head.
ABOUT THE ONE I'M LOOKING FOR:
You must be special. You must like yourself. You must be in here somewhere . Quiet, but not shy. Artsy, but not fartsy. Classy, but not sassy. Sophisticated - in the positive sense - good with people. Stylish, kind, fun. Self-willed, adventurous, inquisitive. Unsatisfied with life as we know it. Wanting to explore new or stifled parts of yourself, to break the mold, to fungus amung us. It would be nice if your name wasn't Bob. I'd include "a little crazy", but too many girls would respond . I'm really, REALLY looking for a SPECIAL girl - you know who you are. I have been told that the perfect "celebrity matches" for me are Renee Zellweger and Catherine Zeta-Jones. I have no idea who these women are. Marissa Tormez, Lisa Kudrow, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Jenny Garth, Meg Ryan, Christina Aquilera, Goldie Hawn, Suzanne Summers, Pamela Anderson, Nicole Kidman, Ashley Judd, Reese Witherspoon, the Nanny, Buffy the Vampire Slayer . . . these are a few celebs I like - although I've stopped watching TV because of this darned computer. Oh - maybe I'm just looking for someone who knows how to reach adolpholives in the big HA YOO - do you? Oh, also - I'm looking for someone who can live with the fact that I am writing a novel about gossip and insanity. Did a lot of field work for this. . . . .Oh the one I'm looking for should not be a jealous gossipping flirt who wants one day to marry a Gladiator, so in the mean time she doesn't have to deal with real relationships, men, or her father-complex, just criticise everyone else. I could say, "I plan to marry a telephone pole when I grow up", just to get out of growing up in the here and now - or EVER - couldn't I? I've seen enough of this parasitic future game - haven't you? Kerry for President!