Lord of the Flies

Dear Sir,

Pleased to meet you. I've been under attack by the insectoid inhabitants of this planet, and I was hoping together, we could band together and form a pact.

As you know, I've long held a trap-and-release treaty with the spiders; the only caveat being the six-foot perimeter around my bed; the "kill zone". And you are also probably familiar with my "no swat" policy concerning your brethren (although I'm not at liberty to control my dog's "chase and snap" activities). Given my live and let die paradigm, I was surprised to find myself victim of no less than 10 insect bites and one bee sting in the past two weeks. This is unacceptable.

I'm assuming you're familiar with game theory. Up until this point, we've been operating in a state of mutual cooperation in the Assurance Game - but suddenly the insects are playing Chicken with a prediliction for defection. This type of game will inevitably degenerate to Tit-for-Tat, but I'm giving you one more opportunity to return to our previously mutually beneficial game; offering "forgiveness", if you will.

If a suitable resolution can not be reached, I am prepared to act in my own defense.

Thank you for your time, and I hope to hear from you soon.

P.S. Was it completely necessary to have the bee sting swell my forearm to Popeye-like dimensions accompanied by red, vein-tracing streaking?

Sweet!

So the other night my roommates and I were watching Behind the Green Door, but we didn't really want to hear it, so on a whim I put The Teaches of Peaches on the stereo. And that's when I discovered the new The Wall/Wizard of Oz.

From the very beginning, each song on the album seemed to effortlessly meld with the visuals on screen (even the boring mime sequence; which suddenly became less boring). The lyrics, the beats and even the track order seemed preternaturally synchronized to the film. It was mind-blowing. And it made a classic adult film immenently more watchable. Check it out.

Where I live.

Here in California, we have Megan's Law. And they have a website. On the website, you can punch in your zip code, your address, the name of your nearest park, and a variety of other criteria, and they will give you a list of all the registered sex offenders (with addresses and photos) in your neighborhood.

In the case of my new place, a list of 103. Disturbing enough; but you know me, I had to keep picking. So I checked my last two zip codes - 16 in my last place, and an astonishing 2 in my first place. I'm definitely slipping...but of course now I have a Rottweiler.

Just don't tell my mom, she'll flip out.

Scuttled

So C@ and I have this phrase "scuttling the ship" - it's a nautical term for running a vessel aground; but in our case, it's when you break it off with someone you're not really dating - the "ship" is a relationship.

Usually, scuttling takes place early on - it's something you do before emotions are involved, before it can really be termed a "break-up". It's and awkward yet polite way of disengaging. Personally, I usually start it with "I can't see you anymore..." and for the most part, all my scuttlings have ended successfully.

But recently I got scuttled - after 3 months. To my credit, I was almost expecting it - I mean, it was someone I had scuttled in January, and we had started up again after my last exclusive relationship had ended; we never had any emotional connection, in a way we were just placeholders. We had never attained any real level of intimacy, and I had been wondering what the point was. So when he called and said "We can't date anymore..." I felt a measure of relief.

He had become reacquainted with someone he'd met years before, wanted to give it a go, and he "just wasn't the type that could date two people at once.". In reality, it was the almost the same speil I had given him lo those many months ago - except I'm perfectly capable of dating two people at once. When he thanked me for being understanding, I said "What choice do I have? You were understanding with me." I wished him luck, and I meant it.

Dismembering Last Night.

This morning I woke up in the movie Memento. Well, I actually woke up on the couch...and it wasn't so much "morning" as it was "cresting to afternoon", but those details aside, I was in Memento. Except with even more of a twist, because I didn't think I had forgotten anything.

I got up, fed my dog and let her out to relieve herself. This also gave me the opportunity to see that my car was safely parked. I was definitely dragging - I went to take a shower and it turned into an hour-long soak.

During the soak, I thought about last night. Oh, what a great time we had! I had gone to Porn Star Karaoke for an acquaintence's going away party, made a few fans with my rendition of "Different Drum", and had a few celebratory cocktails. I had a vague recollection of two rounds of shots, seeing Ron Jeremy and Mickey Rourke walk in, and then coming home and evicting my roommate from the couch so I could crash on it. I must have felt a bit queasy, because I put a large bowl on the floor next to me - it was mercifully empty except for some drool.

I checked my email and saw a message from a friend with pictures. Pictures of our group, laughing and singing. Pictures of me with Mickey Rourke. Pictures of John with Ron Jeremy. Now it was starting to dawn on me. We had evidently talked to them. I called my friend.

"That was so much fun!" she said. I was a little distracted, because I had realized I couldn't find my car keys. I opened my car door through an open window. I found a tumbler in my cup holder. "Yeah, you left the bar with that." she provided. My friend is 10 years sober, but she doesn't advertise. I remembered picking up the slack on one of the shot rounds because someone who didn't know was ordering. "I think the Jagermeister shots put a few people over the top".

The what? There were Jagermeister shots?

Oh, there are my keys - on the ground outside the back door. "And when the pornstars got all pissed because you kept dancing in front of them." What about Ron and Mickey? "You kissed Ron Jeremy."

I did what?

"No tongue. It was a smooch. Although you did stare into each other's eyes for a while."

I also did the worm across the dance floor, twisted a stranger's nipples, and sang a great version of "Tainted Love" with creamy dollops of ranch dressing dribbling from my lips and down my decollete (I remember putting the dressing on my chin, the bouncer suggested the upper chest).

All in all, my friend said it was the best time ever. I wish I had been there.

Double Crush

I just got a job today (part-time nanny to a 6yo with CP), and it's just in time. Because I have been going boy-crazy, and friends theorize it's because I have too much time on my hands.

I've been seeing someone for the past three months, and since our relationship is not legitimately exclusive, I've been dating other people. Honestly, it takes some of the burden off him - he can't be everywhere at once. But recently, a curious thing has happened. I've been taken over by the Crush.

In the course of my usual "hey there, wanna go out, how about the Dodger game/art opening/karoake showdown on Friday?" I have developed a Crush (actually two, but who's counting?). What they have in common with my usual "auxilliary dating partners"(ADP) is that they are both clearly interested, what seperates them is that I cannot have them.

Perhaps that's the overall definition of a crush, but when you aren't working steadily, you have plenty of time to replay conversations in your head, obsess about what you were wearing the last time you saw them, wonder what they are doing at this exact instant...essentially, you become 15 again. And for those of you that knew me then, I feel the cold slither, too.

Really it's not so much that I can't have them, it's more that I shouldn't. They both reside in that undesirable arrondissement of Ami des Amis, and the streets there are narrow and always have two sides - forcing someone to walk in the middle. That's why I'm glad to be getting back to work - I'm hoping what friends say is true; that with my thoughts occupied with tasks, I won't be tempted to take any detours through mysterious alleys, no matter how inviting they seem.