Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Shame, such a shame...

George Saunders should have taken a page from Nabokov and called his Civilwarland in Bad Decline, Despair: A Collection of Short Stories.

Because, really Nabokov's Despair has nothing on this book in terms of everything being doomed, and he truly captures the mood of old theme parks going downhill, almost perfectly. Reading the title work made me feel like going to FairyLand Caverns at Rock City on the Georgia/Tennessee border. I love that place, walking underground, looking at these blacklit scupltures of children and fairytale creatures with that scary background music of children singing nursery rhymes.

Gives me the heebie jeebies and I adore the place for that.

I spoke with Playboy last night. He's probably not coming down this weekend and becoming my sex toy. Too broke. But, apparently, his sarging is going well. This probably means that, eventually, I'll run into him in the online PUA community and then this blog won't be so anonymous anymore.

I updated him on things with GV8, things in life. I believe his comment was, "Damn, your life is turning into a regular party." I just laughed.

Also spoke with a man I will refer to as Mr. Wolf. He's my long-time friend who has been doing the club-promoter schtick lately. His club this Saturday is a go, and I'm looking very forward to it. We started talking about our platonic history, and how he's given up on trying to get in my pants, since he missed his opportunity to do so some years ago.

He's convinced that I went over to his place about six years ago. I still don't remember this, but I don't remember a lot, so it isn't saying much. Our conversation went as follows:

"I totally blew it with you when you came over that night."
"I still think you're making things up."
"No. You came over. You were going to spend the night and you ended up going home instead."
"I don't remember this at all. Tell me something I did, something that I would know meant that you aren't remembering another chick."
"You gave me a massage..."
"Ah. That sounds like me. Why the hell didn't you hit that back then?? I was giving you a massage. That was like, open access for you."

We got into a debate about his fears of women, about how he still hasn't gotten over his general fear, but likens going after a woman to sky-diving for the adrenaline it gives him.

I tell him to get The Game and read up about how to handle females and he, of course, informs me that only socially below average men read The Game and he wants a girlfriend, not a piece of ass, and to read and follow the ideas in The Game would be deviating from his personality which means any female he did land would not be the one for him because the girl would not be attracted to him for himself.

I counter-pointed him by letting him know that, for me, I want a man who is either a natural or has had the experience and practice in his life to successfully manipulate the people around him, to present himself as desirable, and have the high partner count and sexual experience that goes along with that, and then, that guy finally falls under boyfriend material to me because other guys just don't cut it so he should stop thinking that it's all one way for people and don't-make-me-come-over-there-and-smack-you.

I won.

During this, I found out everything I needed to know about the club (and then some), and guest-listed myself+1, though he offered more. It pays to be a decent dancer.

Then my friends arrived. I was sitting on C's couch on her backporch, enjoying the perfect weather and fading sunlight.

C... she was not in a good mood. And she brought one of her guy friends with her, a potential lover who she turned down, who I will refer to as Jay. He's beyond beta. He was raised in an abusive household as the oldest of many, many siblings, and he's a complete pleaser and total push-over.

So I watched her berate him as he tried to help her, listened to these horrible tones in her voice, finally inquiring as to why she was so uptight. She explained her personal drama, calmed down for a bit, then started going off on Jay again.


Eye-contact. Smile. Raise hands palm up at chest level, breath deeply, relax arms to my sides.

She looks at me, "Sorry, sorry."

She snapped at me once the entire evening, even though I was also with Jay, helping her cook dinner and clean up the kitchen. She snapped at him at least once a minute, and he took it.

I then realized that I had, without meaning to, become the dominant one in our friendship. Typical, but unexpected. C's a firecracker, but she's also a sub. I'm submissive, but most people can't tell because of how I interact with others socially. The amount of sexually submissive men that profess interest in me makes me think I should become a pro-domme... if only the idea of spanking or otherwise punishing a male didn't make my stomach roll.

Anyhow, C and Jay went out after dinner. I decided to help her out by doing the dishes, hoped to ease some of that tension off her. Drama drama drama. Poor girl is entirely too empathetic.

... ... ...

I had an interesting conversation last Friday, with my guy friend who I went out to a little rocker bar with. As I mentioned, this guy and I used to work together, and I used to find him very attractive because he was so alpha-male on the job... but once we stopped working together and started hanging out socially, he totally beta'd out. Can't do that. All attraction was lost.

But we're still friends, I still enjoy his company.

He was walking me back to my car and he said:

"I can't be ashamed around you."
"I can't be ashamed around you. You don't let me. I can't ever feel sorry about something I've said or thought. Because you'll just get pissed off.

He used to make comments, or text me, with random sexual snippets. One day he saw a girl that looked like me and texted something along the lines of, "I just saw your twin drive by. I was tempted to hunt her down so we could have a threesome because that'd be hot."

I was working, didn't answer it, so he kept texting me, asking me if he had offended me and he was so sorry, etc etc.

I finally check and I look at the phone, laugh at his initial message, and then text back, "What the hell, B? You know you can't offend me in any way, shape, or form. Stop apologizing."

But it kept happening, and he kept wigging out and apologizing for expressing desire or general sexuality.

Finally I beat it into his brain that if he did not stop apologizing for being a guy, I would stop talking to him. That was a few months ago. I did not realize it had such an effect on him.

Also, at dinner.

"Ever since you took me to that club, I've been hooked on the music."
"Oh, that's cool."
"No, I mean, really hooked. Like, I want to go back. I listen to only that kind of music now."
"Well, go back."
"Things keep getting in the way. And, besides, I want to go with you."
"You're entertaining and you can dance."
"You rip people to shreds. You were just laying people low."
"What? I couldn't have been that bad."
"You're weren't bad, just amusing to listen to."

The more and more people I talk to who I take clubbing with me, or who I meet at clubs, tell me that I'm intimidating when I'm out. It's certainly interesting to watch one of my friends start talking to a regular, and then I walk up to talk to my friend... and it's just, odd reactions. Like they didn't expect me to be friendly. And once they find out that I am...


I usually just rip people apart in my head. It's not an aggressive, needing to put them down, ripping, but more of an analytical "what are they doing wrong?" ripping. If a friend wants to learn how to dance a particular style, I travel the dancefloors until I find someone suitable, someone who matches their body type, and then I compare that dancer to those around them in a humorous way, so they can learn what to do and what not to do. Then you go over a quick history of dance styles and the wardrobes and bands that go along with the styles, picking pieces off of people who walk by in order to educate someone.

I had not realized I was doing it in such a condescending and aggressive manner. I had been trying to do it in an entertainingly humorous, yet upbeat and supportive way.

Oh well.

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