Rockin' Girl Blogger

Monty, the infamous CEO, was kind enough to nominate me as a "Rockin' Girl Blogger" a few months ago. Unfortunately, I was knee deep in packing and getting sodomized by the White House Moving Company, so I didn't thank him and pass the award along.

As a liberated male, I, of course, aspire to be as evolved, brilliant, and generally with it as even the least advanced woman.

(Incidentally, indulging one's feminine side is not just a way of becoming more well-rounded, thoughtful, and wiser; it's also a great way of picking up chicks. I know: obvious joke.)

As a man, even a somewhat liberated one, there is only so much that I can do. Luckily, I have a lot of blogs that show me the way. It's hard to find people who haven't already gotten this award, but the following five writers have somehow slipped through the cracks. Their blogs beautifully define femininity in impressive, exciting, and completely individual ways:

Franki, of Frankily Yours, is smart, funny, and sharp as a tack. She tends to go right to the point, and is none-too-subtle in her analysis and attacks. All too many women define femininity in terms of silence, docility, and lack of self-respect. Franki shows that strength and self-awareness can be very feminine.

As I may have pointed out once or twice, Jamiesmitten is a little random, a little silly, and a lot incisive. Somewhere in this apparent contradiction, she stakes out a very brave and very feminine space.

Odat usually puts up short, happy, life-affirming posts that are the perfect antidote to a stressful day. Every so often, however, she holds forth with a longer, more personal piece that reminds me of how impressive and deeply thoughtful she is.

I don't know if Spellbound would describe herself as a "girl," but she definitely should. In the time that I've been reading her blog, I've watched her rediscover her youth, her sexuality, and her femininity. In the process, she's helped her husband rediscover a lot of his own youth and vitality.

Philanthropster doesn't often post, and more's the pity. The cautiously optimistic side of its author's personality, this site is a simple consideration of all the beauty, truth, and hope that hide in plain sight.

Me, in Flannel

The amazing, incomparable Glamourpuss has nominated me for the "Blog Most Likely to Inspire a Pair of Pyjamas" award. I was, of course, deeply honored, although her post forced me to look up the word "winceyette," which apparently refers to a kind of flannel that is soft on both sides. I'm already trying to find ways to fit my new word into sentences. Of course, I could go with the obvious:

"Are those pajamas winceyette?"

Unfortunately, however, my limited contact with pajama wearers makes it difficult to pull this one off, so I need to explore my options. I'm considering the poetically ironic:

"Your love embraces me like a winceyette straitjacket."

Alternately, there's the disdainfully ironic:

"Maine's nice, if you're into winceyette lingerie."

And one can always go for the ironically surreal:

"Michael Jackson isn't into children. He just has a winceyette fetish."

I'm sure that I'm woefully misusing the word (not to mention overindulging in irony), but such is the cost of innovation. While I work on my winceyette usage, I feel obliged to pass on this outstanding award. Oddly enough, it only took me a couple of seconds to imagine the pajamas that the following five bloggers inspired. I think that this, more than anything else, demonstrates the genius of this award!

1. Hearts in San Francisco would definitely be silky, colorful, and sophisticated. Perhaps it's just because of her Wizard of Oz avatar, but I envision something in black and dark green, with a dramatic splash of red sequins.

2. Judith seems suited to something flowing, yet subtle. Perhaps a celestial screen print, accented with occult symbols, on a background of dark blue.

3. Maybe it's just the photograph on Nosjunkie's blog, but I see her pajamas as being more dramatic. Perhaps black vinyl, perhaps leather. Basically, I imagine her pajamas as a cross between a Cenobite from Hellraiser and Hugh Hefner.

4. Odat's pajamas are warm, fuzzy, and embracing. They're multi-layered, made out of flannel, and perfect for curling up with a cup of hot chocolate. They come in warm, friendly colors and are embroidered with monkies.

5. When I was coming up with Jamiesmitten's pajamas, I cheated a little: I looked at the Halloween pictures on her blog. Her pajamas are relaxed, playful, and come with a pair of ears.

So there you go. One award, five bloggers, and the pajamas that they inspired. Have a very winceyette day!

A Little Face Time

By the time I got to New York on the Friday before Spring Break, I was exhausted. Several hours of flying, not to mention cooling my heels in Atlanta when Delta randomly decided to cancel my connecting flight, had left me cranky and fried. Consequently, I didn't really catch on when the wife mentioned that we would be meeting one of my favorite bloggers, Odat, for lunch the following Tuesday. Sometime the next day, as I was wandering from grocery store to grocery store picking up the necessities, it occurred to me that I would finally be meeting one of the people that I regularly welcome into my life. Of course, I immediately got a little nervous. Sure, Odat seemed really cool, and the calming optimism of her posts had been cheering me up for months now, but there was always the possibility...

After all, how many stories have we all heard about psychopaths stalking people on the internet? And, for that matter, don't the neighbors always say the nicest things about serial killers? I mean, can't you imagine someone in Dahmer's building saying, "He was always so optimistic, willing to look on the bright side of things. Of course, he usually had a young swinger sitting on ice in his bathroom, so who can blame him?"

Actually, to be honest, I was never really worried about Odat. I was, however, a little bit nervous about myself. Had I set the bar a little high? Was she aware that I usually draft my posts before I send them out? Jesus, I hoped she'd be as cool in person as she was in her writing.

That's the key point, I guess. A few times a week, I invite a bunch of strangers into my life and take a little peek inside theirs. Maybe I leave out some information, but I write some incredibly intimate things about myself. My favorite bloggers, of course, do the same. We let each other into our thoughts and dare to divulge how our minds work. Admittedly, I'm an exhibitionist, but still...

At any rate, Tuesday came around, by which time I'd managed to put a lid on my nervousness. The wife was feeling pretty sick with a bug that she'd picked up from Georgia. I offered to go alone or reschedule, but she was having none of it. She was eager to meet the legendary Odat, and nothing short of leprosy was going to keep her from this lunch date.

By the time we showed up at Barnes and Noble in Union Square, where we were scheduled to meet Odat, I really had to go to the bathroom. That particular B&N hides their Men's room in a really inconvenient place, which meant that any further nervousness was overshadowed by a frantic search for the porcelain playroom, which I finally located in the computer section. I rejoined the wife by the front door, where she was on the lookout for "a curly redhead." Shortly after I got downstairs, we found ourselves joined by an energetic redhead with a huge smile.

Odat took us to Republic, a fusion restaurant near the bookstore. It had a really spare communal setup that made me think of state-run dining halls in China. The food was fantastic, Thai accented and perfectly prepared. We took off our coats, then put them back on again--it was a beautiful restaurant, but the heat left something to be desired. Somehow, though, the chilly air added to the cozyness of the situation.

Because she was sick, Misanthropster's voice wasn't working too well. When I'm nervous, or forced to carry a lot of the conversation, I tend to get a little Joe Friday. I ask a lot of questions, and probably talk more than I should. Odat was incredibly nice about everything, and I realized that the sensitivity and generosity that pervade her posts have a real basis in her personality. She is, simply, a genuinely kind and thoughtful person.

Lunch ended too soon, and Odat went back to work, while the wife and I trekked back home, where she took a nap. I was only moderately afraid that I had talked too much, and was left feeling pretty amazing about my first blog author meeting.

Which brings me to my next announcement. I'm going up to Arlington, Virginia this weekend to spend Easter with my friend John. He has assured me that he is very much up for a little bar hopping. If any of my favorite DC-area bloggers are available on Saturday or Sunday, please let me know. Having met one of my favorite authors, I'm eager to share beers with a few of the others!

Catz Quiz

Okay, the famous Judith has hit me with a meme. I'm passing it on to the incredible Odat, the amazing Monicker, and the astounding Lexy

Of course, I'm also hoping that flattery will keep them from getting ticked off at being tagged.

1. A song?
"Close the Door," Velvet Underground

2. An 80's rock album?
Fine Young Cannibals, The Raw and the Cooked

3. A singer?
Nina Simone

4. A man?
Roald Dahl

5. A woman?
Ann Richards

6. A writer?
Anais Nin

7. A book?
The Last Picture Show

8. A word?
tompion

9. A movie?
The Exorcist

10. A wise statement?
Now I know the things I know,
And I do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!
-Dorothy Parker

11. A colour?
Purple

12. A flower?
Bleeding Heart

13. A fictional character?
Tucker Case

14. A name?
Roswell P. Brown

15. A guitarist?
Eric Clapton

16. A guitar?
A Rickenbacker

17. An Age?
The Enlightenment, or 27

18. A famous Historical character?
Henry II of England

19. A flavour?
Anise

20. A meal?
Sesame Chicken with vegetable Lo Mein

21. A country?
Poland

22. A city?
San Francisco

23. A monument?
The National D-Day Memorial, Bedford, Virginia

Top Pick-Up Poems, Part II

I was surprised by the responses to Top Pick-Up Poems, Part I. Apparently, everybody's got a favorite or two. In the interests of democracy, and because I really like talking about seductive poetry, I decided to post some of your responses, as well as your favorites. If I didn't include yours, or if you still have a favorite that you want to write about, never fear: this isn't the last Pick Up Poems post!

Misanthropster brought up Shakespeare's Sonnet 130:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

This isn't really a seduction poem; personally, thought, I prefer this kind of love. This is the one that notices the warts, the foul morning breath, and the oddly-shaped toes, and still cares. It doesn't just accept the flaws, but revels in them. Maybe it's not seductive, but it's seriously beautiful.

Besides, Shakespeare kicks ass!

Odat offered this one (complete with apologies!):

My First Time

The sky was dark
the moon was high
all alone just her and I
Her hair so soft
her eyes so blue
I knew just what she wanted to do
Her skin so soft
her legs so fine
I ran my fingers down her spine
I didn't know how
but I tried my best
to place my hand on her breast
I remember my fear
my fast beating heart
but slowly she spread her legs apart
And when she did
I felt no shame
as all at once the white stuff came
At last it was finished
it's all over now,
my first time...milking a cow.


Once, when I was teaching a creative writing class, a student read a poem that she had written. It was incredibly intense, building to a conclusion that left us all breathless. When she was finished, I mopped off my brow and looked around at the class. Many of them were flushed and appeared either embarrassed or aroused. Smiling, I said something like "Well, I guess we all know what that one was about. Did it accomplish its purpose?" Once I broke the silence, the whole class got involved in a very interesting discussion about this girl's exploration of sexuality, her depiction of an orgasm, and so forth. It was an amazingly productive discussion, and we all felt really good about ourselves until it was the girl's turn to discuss her poem. Looking around at us, she kind of tilted her head and said "actually, it was about basketball."

Pawlie Kokonuts enjoyed Donne's "The Flea," and suggested that we take a peek at Elegy 20: To His Mistress Going to Bed":

COME, madam, come, all rest my powers defy ;
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe ofttimes, having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing, though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glittering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopp'd there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed-time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th' hill's shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet, and show
The hairy diadems which on you do grow.
Off with your hose and shoes ; then softly tread
In this love's hallow'd temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Revealed to men ; thou, angel, bring'st with thee
A heaven-like Mahomet's paradise ; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite ;
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.

Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O, my America, my new-found land,
My kingdom, safest when with one man mann'd,
My mine of precious stones, my empery ;
How am I blest in thus discovering thee !
To enter in these bonds, is to be free ;
Then, where my hand is set, my soul shall be.

Full nakedness ! All joys are due to thee ;
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's ball cast in men's views ;
That, when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul might court that, not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus array'd.
Themselves are only mystic books, which we
—Whom their imputed grace will dignify—
Must see reveal'd. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to thy midwife show
Thyself ; cast all, yea, this white linen hence ;
There is no penance due to innocence :
To teach thee, I am naked first ; why then,
What needst thou have more covering than a man?

I was blown away to discover that the lines "O, my America, my new-found land," are often used for patriotic purpose. Best of all, the lines before "O, my America" set it up so beautifully: "Licence my roving hands, and let them go/Before, behind, between, above, below." Kinda makes our relationship to the land seem a little too...uh...playful.

Looking over at the little blue dot, I'm noticing that this post is running a little long, so I'm going to hold off on Byron (Glamourpuss' favorite) and "Goblin Market," which Judith suggested. They will, however, be appearing in Top Pick-Up Poems, Part III, presumably with a few other suggestions.

I'm going to leave you with this one, by E.E. Cummings. It is, of course, about a car. Get your brain out of the gutter!


she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and give
her the juice,good

(it

was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on

the
internalexpanding
&
externalcontracting
brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a:dead.

stand-
;Still)