Fully fed, yet I still hunger...

I've gone out almost every night this week. Every night last week. Every night the week before that and the week before that.

This has become my life, in this weird way.

Last night was seeing a friend's band play at a bar, the night before that, a dinner celebration out at a bar and grill with drag queen performances. The night before, dinner party. The night before, a final, and whatever happened afterwards, I don't remember. It all just blends together and it's hard to keep track of anything past the last three days, max.

Tonight, dinner with friends, then maybe to a small social gathering.
Tomorrow, chiropractor, shopping, touring a friend through LA (downtown/Little Tokyo/Venice Beach/Beverly Hills/Sunset Strip/Hollywood/Amoeba), dinner date, and clubbing, along with various errands jammed in what tiny openings of my schedule they can fit.
Sunday, undecided. Could be another concert. Could stay in bed with GV8 all day again.

I need to get him to set up a soundsystem in his bedroom.

Ah, my favorite dance troupe will be back in town in September. Lovely.

Pointless dribble, how I loathe it. I type until the words I want to say come out. But until then... total tripe.

Just keep scraping off the layers.

I've noticed a trend in some of the blogs I read lately, a feeling of wanting to change/save/heal the world.

I've always though that sentiment was so very ego-centric.

Like your version of saving/changing/healing is any better than anyone else's, that the world would find your view so incredibly enlightened that everyone would agree that your path/idea/healing was the route for them.

I've never wanted to save the world. I've never thought that my ideas, my personal philosophy, my ethics, were for anyone but myself.

It feels so religious, so personal-crusading, to try or hope to enforce your way of being onto others.

I much more agree with Buddha.

"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense."

People who know me, they know I do not discuss politics or religion. My belief system is my own, and what I believe should have no impact on the people around me.

When people come to me for sex and relationship advice, which is quite often, I make a disclaimer for everything I say. My experiences, my temperament, my needs, are not the same as theirs. I offer up opinions with full acknowledgement that they are simply opinions, and that the man or woman with the question should realize this and not take my thoughts as the ultimate truth.

Some people do anyway. But, fortunately, not that often.

As much as it squicks me to say it, I am admired. The way I handle men and sex has often become this glorified focus of whatever social group I am inhabiting, even if people don't always agree with my usual lack of emotional attachment to sex.

But I don't expect anyone else to take on my viewpoints. I don't expect that my idea of healing and personal growth is for anyone but myself.

So odd.

... ... ...

C, one of my couch-hosts, and I went to see a friend's band play last night.

She has a lust-crush on said friend, who I'll call Crosser. He is a good looking man, though his haircut really isn't for me. Too emo. But that's her type, so more power to her.

So we went to the bar where the band was playing, I spent 30 seconds applying make-up (so lazy), she spent about twenty minutes doing up her hair. This is what happens when you get a complicated haircut that involves actual work before going out. She gets all girly-glammed up while I wait.

See, I don't really care. I'm tired. Sure, I know the bar will be packed with good looking guys. Fairly apathetic. I'm not a bar-scene girl, I don't appreciate drinkers at all, and I just really don't see the point. Clubbing, sure. Bar-hopping, no.

We finally get down there, too late to see his band. Whatever. She wanted to see him, not the band. And she does look incredibly cute and stylish. Points for her.

Walk in, pay the door, find Crosser, who chats with us a little before introducing us to his twin brother (who is much more my physical type, oddly), and we all sit down at a tiny table where they're selling merch.

Now, earlier in the day she informed me that she was no longer interested in him because he was too prone to flaking on her and kept sending mixed signals and she decided to just be platonic with him.

But as he kept leaving the table to talk to friends who came out to see the band, her head kept turning to follow him. And when his brother got up, her head kept following him as well. As soon as it was just the two of us, I would have to nudge her to bring it back to the table.

To stop watching.

To stop showing the social undesirability that she was.

I mean, crap, really? This is basic stuff. Be happy on your own, be exciting on your own, keep an animated conversation, bring strangers in from around you, make new friends, laugh, smile, and subtly move the people around you so that you are always the social focus. Even if you aren't the focus, if you position yourself right, you will become the focus. Ask questions, keep people talking, tease and flirt, make the men around you that you aren't even interested in want you, make them fight for your attention.

This is attraction 101. You don't even have to pay for parking.

So I kept trying to bring her back in. Kept trying to get her to stop following them with her eyes like a puppy, nudging her with my knee under the table, asking engaging questions, conversation starters so she would have a chance. She said she had given up, but she obviously hadn't.

Finally, another friend of hers showed up and sat across from us so her body language changed, so she had to look away from the guys so she could see and hear her friend. That worked much better.

It was amusing, though. We were talking about Hackers, he hadn't seen it. Thursdays nights a bunch of us usually get together at C's house and watch crappy movies and eat dinner. So I casually slide into her, not even looking at him, "Oh, we should make Hackers next Thursday's movie!" and she agrees, starts talking about what we'll have for dinner and I'm chatting back with her about my preferences and he's just listening to us with this vaguely questioning look.

"Oh, yeah. A group of us get together on Thursdays. C cooks dinner and we watch bad movies. C's a great cook, we always have a lot of fun. Madness ensues," side-thought, "Oh! Maybe you could come, since you haven't seen it."

Finally C understands. Lights up, offers her address, which he takes.

(Later, by the by, she told me how glad she was that she quick enough on her feet to invite him. She didn't even notice what I was doing.)

Other things happen, I suppose. He suggests we go back to his place after we're done with the bar. I decide to go home instead, give her some time with him without another female about.

It's odd to me, this whole thing. C is a few years older than me. She's had relationships, had boyfriends and girlfriends, had triad relationships, continues to have lovers, but I don't quite get why she doesn't know this basic stuff. I had her read The Game, and she flipped through to what she called the "applicable" parts of The Art of Seduction, so she should have at least an elementary grasp of this stuff.

I get attention easily, when I bother. I've had enough men tell me some version of, "You caught my eye because you just sparkle," or some such descriptor.

It's crowd control.

That's how I got my last boyfriend.

He should have been so much better than he was.

Oh well.

I want to sit down with her and break this stuff down even further, but I really don't know if it will do any good. You have the inclination and the mind, or you don't. I think she's really lacking the inclination... until someone catches her eye.

Girls are strange creatures.

Learn everything you can. If you never use it, at least you know it.