Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Art of Seduction

"We need more sucking up"
Pretty Woman is hailed as one of the greatest romantic movies of our time.  It is full of seduction and makes the ovaries of many women just twitch at the title.  But, thinking about the "why" of it, which I tend to over think, I've made a huge discovery.  First of all, He was seduced by her sweet innocence.  I know, she was a hooker, and how innocent can hookers be?  Well, the script was so well written that during her career she learned street smarts, but kept her sweet innocence.  Men like that.  I think its because its easy to exploit.  But Richard Gere's character didn't exploit her.  He did the most seductive thing a man can do.  He tried to meet her every need and keep her safe.  In fact, one of the most romantic parts of the movie was when they went shopping.  Men, Julia Roberts, in all honesty, was not seduced by the thousands of dollars he spent on her.  She was uncontrollably drawn to the fact that the one line "They weren't nice to me" made him angry.

But he did not take his anger out on her.  He didn't take his anger OUT on anyone.  Instead, of complaining, he "fixed" the situation.  He took her to the store, and "encouraged" the clerks to be nice to her.  He took time off from work to make sure that She and the store people knew that she was worthy.  There you have it.  If you want your woman to see you as a hero, you need to be one.  Every woman is different, though.  You can not use the same techniques over and over again.  You'll just come across as a guy to avoid, who may get digits, but they are rarely to contact the person he thinks hes calling.

I have decided to help anyone (like Pitman) who may want to seduce me by a few tips on what NOT to do. First is "Whispering in her ear". If you are close enough to me that your lips are close to my ear to make a whisper most effective, you are in my bubbly.  Prepare to die.  I do not want you that close to me, and I don't want your bad breath (this isn't for Pitman, I haven't noticed him having bad breath.  His offensive smells come from other places) that close to my nose.  If by chance you are like Pitman, and you have the opportunity to try to sweetly whisper something into my ear while I'm sleeping, DON'T DO IT!!  Taking your mouth to the opening of my ear, and whispering "Do you want to get up or stay asleep" will sound as though there is a bull horn, sounding off a Fire Siren INSIDE my brain.  This will not gently wake me, it will fry areas of my brain and kill more brain cells than a Summer Weekend Tequila Binge.

Another major seduction faux pas, is trying to suck the remains of a cup cake off my finger.  First off, EWWWW!!!!  And that was just the original reaction.  The more I thought about it, it was wrong on so many levels.  Not just the fact that the guy's wife AND girlfriend were present... but that had a lot to do with it.  But, think about it...  even if I didn't believe saliva was disgusting and revolting....  THAT'S MY LEFT-OVER CUPPYCAKE!!!  Get your OWN!!!!  I understand it was all in fun, and so is part of this.  But if Mr. Washboard Abs tries to get his mouth anywhere near my fingers again, I will kick him in the shin.  I'd punch him in the stomach, but it would hurt me more than him.
I don't know who Tali is...
and I don't really care.
But LOOK AT THE SIZE
OF THAT CUPCAKE!!!

If you WANT to seduce me.  Be a man.  Make me feel special.  Stick up for me so that the WORLD knows you think I'm special.  Catch and hold my gaze from across a crowded room, and if I smile at you?  Reward me by crossing the distance between us, carefully shielding the gift you carry from harm, and when you present that cuppy cake, with extra frosting and a fork, smile and walk away.  Do this repeatedly and you'll be ready for step 2.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Once Upon a Time

This is NOT FeeFeeFooFoo.
True image couldn't be located.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who had a stuffed pink and purple poodle.  She cant remember when she got it, but for some reason she thinks she may have gotten it at the Clayville Field Days.  It was hard and not the least bit cuddly, but for some reason that little girl loved that dog.  She named it FeeFeeFooFoo because she couldn't decide if she should name it FeeFee or FooFoo, and decided it really didn't matter.  Wasn't she a grand, special little girl?  Her parents told her that all the time, after all.  So the little girl named that dog FeeFeeFooFoo because she had the right to have it all.  Until that one fateful evening when the little girl got sick and vomited all over her special stuffed friend.

The little girl's Mom, knowing how much that dog meant to her daughter, painstakingly cleaned up the puppy.  She was a miracle worker, and you couldn't see or smell the residue of the little girl's weakness.  That is an awesome Mom!!!!  But, unlike other stories that begin with "Once Upon A Time", there was no happily ever after for FeeFeeFooFoo or that little girl.  You see, the little girl could no longer play with the dog, and after time, the dog was banished to a shelf.  The little girl knew how hard the mom worked at cleaning it, so she didn't dare hurt her mom by throwing the toy away.  BUT, the little girl was grossed out by the fact she vomited.  She saw the illness as a weakness.  She saw the delightful FeeFeeFooFoo standing there, on that shelf, screaming at her and telling all that she was nothing but a regular kid.... and a disgusting puker at that.  After a few years, the little girl, who was now growing into a young woman, was able to throw that stupid mocker into the trash... but she still felt guilty for throwing away her childhood friend that her Mother tried to save.  She mainly felt guilty for coming to hate something she loved so much because it was defiled.  It was defiled by that little girl, and then it seemed the little girl blamed the dog.  But she didn't... she just didn't feel the love for that dog since the dog felt her weakness, first hand.

Through out that little girls life, she repeated that same cycle.  Loving something, making a huge mistake or showing some kind of huge weakness, and then feeling that thing she loved turn on her.  Either it really DID turn on her, or the reminder of the act she did was too much for her to continue loving the item.

And its not just things.  It was people, too.  And activities.  And even TV shows that she felt led her on.

When the little girl hit 45 years old, she realized this in herself.  She realized that each time she was weak, or used, or hurt, a little bit of her died.  Well, not a little bit of HER died, but the parts she allowed to feel were dead.  She became hard and cynical.  She even began to defy God, who was so important in her life, because she realized that once hurt, the part of her that held the love were gone, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make "love" reappear.

So, what of the "Happily Ever After" spoken at then end of the Fairy Tales?  They lead us to believe that there isn't an end to the story, but there is always an end.  Either one or both die, or they get thrown in the trash after a reasonable amount of time.  After being thrown in the trash a few times herself, the little girl (now woman) just stopped getting out of the can.  turned into Oscar the Grouch and now lives on Sesame Street, throwing rocks at Big Bird and stealing Cookie Monsters cookies, yelling foul things at "The Count", like COUNT THIS, LOSER!

The End.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

My Life is an Open Book, Dare You Read It?

I may or may not regret posting this, but you know...  I'm tired.  I'm tired of people judging.  I'm tired of being told I'm being crazy.  No, actually I'm not.  I'm tired of being brushed off because I'm ACTING crazy.      There is a huge difference between acting crazy and being crazy.

See, I am mentally ill.  I suffer from Bi-Polar Depression, and it is considered a mental illness.  I know this fact bothers some in my family, and its taboo to talk about it.  Well, guess what...  it, just like alcoholism, is genetic.  Well, most of my family ignore THAT fact too.  My father was an alcoholic.  Its common knowledge that people with an "altered" mental state self-medicate.  Knowing now what I do, I 100% believe that my father was Autistic.  But, man, could he fake fitting in in public!!  At home?  He sucked.  But you know what?  A LOT of us are 100% different at home than we are in public.  In my "old age", I've come to say "screw it".  I've been tired of trying to fit in, so I've stopped.  Right, wrong or indifferent, its easier to hide at home.  I like my home.  Its cute, small, and as close to a "hug" as I ever want to get.  But I've recently been told that I'm not supposed to be this way, and its time for a medication change.

Yes.  I am on prescription medication for my "issues", and they only work for so long.  Then you have to put yourself through absolute hell to find another one that allows you to function.  Serious.  Not exaggerating.  I have to take medication to actually get my butt out of bed and stay away from things that will take me out of this world sooner than the Lord desires.  I've tried going off them, and my family asked me to go back on.  So, I did.  And now I have to change them.

The worst part is not knowing if the fire ants crawling through my veins are from the new meds or the withdrawl from the old meds.  Same with the feeling I'm either going to cry or throw up.  Kind of sounds like quitting smoking or stopping drinking, huh?

Speaking of smoking, that is my self-medication of choice.  Some people over eat, some people drink, some people have lots of sex, by themselves or with others.  All these items are self medication.  All these items can (and do) become addictions.  The difference between me and someone who drinks wine nightly (or binge drinks on weekends), or reads Shades of Gray (or any other porn), is that smoking is considered bad for you.  Fine.  Its bad for me.  So is the wine, the porn, or the bag of chips eaten nightly.  I've never had a porn or alcohol addition, but I have a food addiction that I fight.  Daily.  I'm also a compulsive over-eater.  THAT, thank the Lord, is being controlled at the moment... but who knows when I'll "fall off the wagon" again.

So, I'm fighting depression, which society (and my brother) believe shouldn't be discussed in public.  I'm fighting a food addiction (winning only hour by hour).  I'm battling Autism (trust me, its a battle).  The economy is hitting us hard and I will have to quite my self-medication of choice (which I'm really fighting hard against).  And I'm also battling society and homeschooling my special needs child because of the bullying and attitude of other kids in the community.  On top of that, I'm switching meds, withdrawling from one and starting another that my body may or may not tolerate.

Think about it.  Is it REALLY that bad that I'm hiding out?  If I do see you, I will apologize now if I throw up on you or start crying hysterically.  This, along with every other moment of my TV Sitcom Life, we will laugh about a few years down the road.  I can promise that.