Attractive Venus entering your 7th House of Partnership this week is a positive signal for love. Drop any ideas about commitment or practicality, though, since pure romance requires faith not facts. Of course, your relationship future counts, but this is a time when the present offers a precious gift.
BRING ON THE ROMANTIC FLING!
Love born on the Internet and exposed on film.
Tonight I went to see Four Eyed Monsters with Tuckergurl ( Thank You!) followed by a panel discussion of internet dating. It has been a while since I have seen a movie that I identified with as a person in the world AND as a filmmaker. So much of this brilliant debut is about cross breeding the things in your life, and in your art as shown by cross breeding the mediums that tell the story. Susan and Arin are extremely arty hipster young adults who live in/around Williamsburg and aspire to make great art. They struggle in this city like the rest of us and they are freaks, like the rest of us.
Susan, a painter/drawer, feels like a fraud. After all the money spent training her, time spent cultivating her and energy spent supporting her- Susan is just spent. She goes off to an artist residency (gut wrenchingly -laugh out loud spoofed!!!) only to find that her only artistic contribution is a piece about her own impotence. She works as a waitress serving pretentious sycophants while subterfuging a growing loneliness and rage. Arin is a struggling film maker/musician. He edits wedding and Bar Mitzvahs videos to his creative dismay. i guess Arin is a dime a dozen but he is unique in his idiosyncrasies and somehow alluring as a character despite his frustrating ineptitude regarding relationships and general communication. Arin is an "other" and this is a point that all people can identify with. His obtuse and eccentric behavior so vigorously displayed on the outside is his price paid for we the audience so that he may be the caricature of our own internal angst. After all does everyone feel like a carnie in their own skin? His sexual fears and paranoid passive agressivity is so well rationalized by his finely honed mind that it seems impossible they might ever break through his own solitary confinement. Despite my initial hatred for him; for at times I recognized the quintessential male frustration we girls must endure; I could not blame him for his alienation. It was not self imposed. Never are the walls we put up elective maybe its more that we instigate them, maintain them for security but we never put them up.
In any case, they meet online, they date, they go through their journey and they make a movie about it where the making of the movie is Act III. The film is a melange of docu style video footage, isight footage, screen-captures, and animation. It is a roving wall of sound diorama that feels jagged and perfectly fluent all at once. These two people are easily poets and what they have done is turned their lives into art and their art into lives. Although I could critique some of the film- that seems rather besides the point. It is inspiring to say the least and inspiration is always a welcomed gift!
They have podcasts as Tuck pointed out on her blog- but I am glad that I did not watch too many episode as the overall character of the film and people in it were a pleasant surprise. And let me just say this: in the film Susan often had moments where we reacted out loud with thanks and praise-be to her strong woman attitude and clever banter in reaction to Arin's bullsh*t. However, no matter how together and articulate Susan was, she still had to succumb to her emotions and ride the relationship rollarcoaster despite the warning signs. She, signifying WE, was held a captive audiences to her desires and fantasies of what she wanted, and a slave to the reality that she had to play out with Arin.
This got me thinking. Recently, and totally by coincidence I had decided to get my internet persona back together, blogs, dating websites, myspace page...etc I felt a slight giggle inwardly as I wrote down the internet "work" I had ahead of me:
I was not feeling the usual reticence in terms of dating online - instead I was starting to view it as a project I could control, alter and explore on my own terms- CONTROL. I could be anyone, I could select anyone vis a vis any criteria: Age, race, musical tastes, celebrities they most resembled, favorite books, looks alone...etc In my head I had the next six months planned out. I had constructed for my self a list of things I can control and do in my life.
And on this I had a beebs epiphany whose air leaked out as quickly as it filled in: I am not a type A person. (thats not the epiphany!) On most days I'd rather let sweet life come to me and just smile at its fortune. I don't like plans and I hate the pressure of time. I like chaos, I love random and I am most at home when the day is taking me and never the averse. I always rationalized that my lack of efficiency in style and manner was somehow countered by ability to think on my feet and be there both professionally and personally at any given moment. I don't mind messes- I never have- I like getting lost even though I am often scared sh*tless of physically getting lost and feeling blue for winding up lost in life. I often feel elephant size stress as a result of this lifestyle. Like when Maura had to take me threw the organizational steps of planning my France trip! Somehow I rationalized that this was part of the big plan- like the scorpion - its just my nature. But that's not how it goes and I am beginning to wonder if type b just stands for "behind" IWe all know that any time one needs something in their life they must illicit single minded focus and organization into their grasp and then forge ambitiously to the finish line. You can't just wing it! I have heard others say that they have but I don't believe it. It would stand to reason then that Type A activity within reasonable and healthy confines is really more of a lucky attribute to be born with rather then a type!!!! That in fact, life management style is as falsely-subjective as beauty, intelligence, monetary fortune and aptitude in sports art and music. So while some are born with the gift, the rest of us have to practice the scales infinitely until they simply don't sound flat. This is not to say that my nature has not saved me and been a blessing to others at any given point- this is also not to say that I am never obstinate or controlling- au contraire mon fraire! It is just to say that well I don't believe in "thats just the way I am" anymore. I guess I just can't afford to. I want to believe in a Popeye caliber of life but he was a cartoon.
So it is definitely strange to me that the little room with all the filing cabinets inside my head all of the sudden has strange dusty sunlight rays cracking through and begging attention. I make my lists. One asks where I want to be in 3mos, 6mos, 1yr, 3yrs, and 10yrs on a grid with three levels: professional, personal, other. It surprised me what I learned.
I made website lists- (i am not linking I am lazy) nerve, Match, J-date (yup thats right I said it) Ok Cupid, Bust, Myspace. I also wrote interests where perhaps there were more websites to join virtually. More ways to be engaged.
The lists continued:
Somewhere in my fiction here lies the bigger truth:
Tyoe B- Beebs had to default for a moment- If I just collect the data- that doesn't mean I can change it. Does it? I am not even the "if its on my list I have to do it" girl So why I am I planning? Tvperry's grandpa said "if you fail to plan then you plan to fail." But John Lennon said "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." My mom always regarded my absent mindedness as an intellectual eccentricity lovingly proving that I was indeed the brilliant offspring until I turned 30- then it was just plain "you need to grow up kid In other words is all the proactivity really just minutia activity to further stall the real playing field? Does it matter? Maybe. Maybe not.
When did the need for absolutes and security supersede the thirst for adventure. And did it? I am not so sure. So did the myth perpetrate the truth which then superseded the allegory which then played itself out like reality on the stage with a hamster running at the speed of light from nothing?
Ok Ok OK!!!!!! I am being silly and Dave Eggers-ish.
Did Einstein have lists? Was Shakespeare an organized cad? I don't know and perhaps I am wasting time quibbling over the mental masturbation it takes to break it down.
I am working on my virtual existence. I imagine that in some way my flesh and blood existence is not sparkling enough so I consult my virtual sister to come to the rescue and polish things up. There is Danielle and then there is Beebs. A socialized form of Schizophrenia complete with different vernaculars, colors, styles, dictum's and values. A separate sphere of microcosms meeting at awkward chasms and rendering us a bit stupefied when we are forced out of our atonal IMings and txting into live speech and touch, Rapid eye movement, pheromones and knowing glances. Where they merge is where modern art exists. I don't mean the type that sells or displays itself and is written up in the Times. I don't mean this flick, or Damian Hirst or Mathew Barney or or this blog. I just mean the art that makes us feel really elated and alive and aware- the art that happens in your brain and your heart while jumping over a creak on a long hike or passing a moment of sheer human color on the streets. The synergy! It is number one on my pros list for living.
Susan and Arin distributed their love to the world as a social exploration and although their movie has a beginning and an end - they are just a serial and even they don't know what will happen next. It must have been tough podcasting their lives for the world to see- they are not unscathed. The internet daters are not without snags and horror stories and the Film makers are not soaring...yet! Despite the great press and continued theatrical presence they need money just the same. SO none of this is necessarily the answer but my oh my the questions could leave us blogging into the next millennium
"Life is far too important a thing to ever talk seriously about!" - Oscar Wilde
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I am so NOT a Closer! I am a retard!!! Last night I went to a great party thrown by a friend. While at this great party I was chatting up with my friends from high school and falling into a deluge of a comfort zone. Then my head took a double take- and I met a beautiful, tall, 31 yrs old, law student from Switzerland. He was divine. The party was a costume party and he was one of the few who truly stepped it up a notch- he created his costume and looked like the ghost of a person alive during a civil war period. It was great. He had a really hot name as well: LUCA.
He was sweet and funny and interested in me. When he needed to leave the room, he grabbed my elbow and fondled it for a loving second to make sure I turned and acknowledged him. He flashed a smile to me that in no uncertain terms said "I like you" Minutes before he left the room he was joking around that if I am not married in two years then I should marry him and move to Bern. He was a scintillating conversationalist for he was both amply excited and forthright and yet patient to hear the other's thoughts. He asked me a million questions about myself- he knew everything. I was smitten but I was in a deep fog, I was not in the game at all. In fact I had forgotten there ever was a game. It was shameful to admit but I had thrown in the towel and although all my sparks were igniting- my brain was not functioning. I turned into a 16 year old insecure freak.
As the night went on I found it difficult to exit the comfort zone room. People were dancing outside and they looked like they were having so much fun. I can dance. But I had these strange thoughts- am I suppose to walk over there and turn into some party girl seductively wailing about...making an ass out of myself? And what about the chick close by with the South American accent wearing the hot playboy bunny get up? What chance do I have? I mean- look at her aquiline thighs!!!! There were mascots for good times dancing about me and I felt like a poster child for repression.
When it was time to go- it took us about 20 minutes to do so. I had ample time to go over and say something. I can't tell you if he was looking my way, or if he realized I was leaving or if this entire thing was a wine and sweet leaf sired delusion. But I froze. My lovely host asked, "Whats wrong with you???? I thought you came out of your shell 13 yrs ago- why are you being so shy- go talk to him, don't leave, for g-d sakes don't leave." But I did. And I did not even say good bye. I don't know why.
There is such a dearth of eligible bachelors in this city! So then calculate the fact that maybe .0001% actually live up to my bloated expectations and you will see why I felt the loss of this dude was somewhat of a tragedy. I undermined myself. As soon as I walked out of the party onto the streets I understood the depth of my insanity and wanted to run back and do something- but it was too late. It happened and now I wonder if this has always been the case and I am just seeing it now or is this some new level of shell shock that happens in your thirties.
I am worse then a bad closer- I am a saboteur!!
Love,
beebs
PS- I hope you had a lovely night at your party! I missed you at mine. Your messages sounded great. Kisses back.
I had been feeling, in my infinite PMS wisdom, extremely obsessed with the saddles that are my hips and thighs. Yet when my red headed sister told me that she had an appointment to look at an apartment down the block from mine- I skipped Yoga and headed straight to my new favorite incognito libation hole: Hare Field Road (sorry there is no web existence to this place for me to link for you- it used to be Blue Lady Lounge).
Hare Field Road has dark wooden flooring, oak wood bars, and brick faced friezes. The bartender is NOT cute- he's old and Scottish and pronounces Merlot phonetically. Red headed step child and I gushed away over our wine as I expelled upon her my monthly existential crisis filled with mentions of the void of identity and community in my life, the lack of true love and the anxiety over the anxiety of having anxiety...ehem. Red just chuckled off my woes and said "ah yes, ye old familiar woes- I will not beseech you!" And that was that. Red and I walked home after drunken pizza and I deposited her into an expensive yellow taxi towards the UES.
As I walked towards my door I passed Uncle Mina. He was sweating as usual. He wears a white dishrag about his head like a headdress and lovingly sweeps his front door to perfection. Mina is round and jolly and never without a word of wisdom or kindness. Neighbor Benny appeared as well. Benny, now off for the summer from his teaching job was equally toasted. And so we took our positions in a scene we play many a night- Benny, Mina and I shared a ciggie and talked about like.
Benny took the chair outside of Mina's but asked first if it was ok. "Sure sure," I said, "I sit all day in front of that f'en box with lights." Benny laughed, "Haha, yeah I had a hard day today." Benny will continue to make that joke all summer- trust me. But Mina fell for the hook and asked Benny what was wrong. "Oh no no no, I am off!" We went back and forth as I said that I would need two months off if I had to work with little children. Mina did not understand- he thought they were cute. Ben exclaimed that he only worked 182 days a year. I guessed that if you are not counting weekends and Holidays that most everyone worked far less days of the years then they thought- except Mina- maybe he works 360. Mina smiled. I always goad him that he works too hard. But I feel bad. I look up to him and feel guilt. He supports a giant family off his sweat. I support two cats an awfull chocolate addiction.
I realized that I also had two months off every year. January and August-dark months- Television has so many perks. "That's great!" Everyone thought so. I rolled my eyes at Mina's excitement as Benny recited my life woes as if it were the pledge of allegiance. "She's unchallenged, unhappy and she hates her job. She wants more." Mina told me that "hate" was way too strong of a word. "You can't can't take one hundred of one hundred- but maybe you can get 80." "I know Mina. But right now, I'm at 40 and I would just like to get to 60." " Well Daniellina, 20 percent is nothing- I'm pretty sure you're responsible for that." We all exhaled our last drag and laughed. Mina knows his world backwards and forwards.
Mina went on to tell me about life in the time of my father's youth. Mina calls parents, "your second oxygen tank." He works so his children never want for breath. He felt it was easier in my father's time- there was not a lot of money but it was all worth so much more. My apartment building was worth $100,000 back in day and it was beautiful. Now? A cool million. And the block stinks to high heaven. The junkies yell till 4 in the AM and the gas station across the street pollutes the air so much that all my plants die. But my neighbors are my family and they know my woes by heart. I lend my spare sneakers to their friends and they make dinner for me when I am lonely. I don't make nearly enough to survive this city and pay my debt to Columbia. So? I had to call the bank and ask them If I could take a year off. I work my shitty job so I can pay interest for a year, live in an overpriced one beddy, have AC and watch cable. It's either monetary roulette or ask for the second oxygen teet. I'm 30 now, that teet only provides ego emasculation and paranoia for the years to come. People say NY is the greatest city on earth and I know that they are right- but I keep thinking that somehow, having had so many Mina moments in my life, that it is in the recognition of these people and the time you take to talk to them that I will somehow be able to make NY appear in any place I go- even watching the salmon run in some suburb outside of Seattle- or soon enough in a Villa in the South of France writing my not so little touchas off. You just want to run somewhere slower, cleaner, simpler. But every time I can't find a bodega or a person with a clue- I run screamingly back. Yet, each time it takes a lot longer though for me to need my fix. The edge softens and I am that much steadfast in my will that NY lives inside of me. It's a worldview not a place. yes yes yes, I know- go live in the bible belt or something and say that again. Ah well- gotta go- I have to fall asleep before the big buzz from the Giant Gas truck refilling the gas station wakes Bear, Jonas and I up. G'Night.
Venus
in security-seeking Cancer emphasizes your long-term relationship
goals. It doesn't matter if you dream at night or if you daydream; it
doesn't matter what you dream. It only matters that you don't stop the
flow of images and feelings from your subconscious mind. But keep
reminding yourself that being human means being imperfect. It's okay if
you don't have what you want; love works in its own time.
This was my google horoscope today- awwww isn't that nice. I'll write more later folks.
Here is a short lesson as to why you should not even be an ear to someone. I mentioned my friend who is cheating on his wife before ( if you snoozed well you lose) His wife left another message on my voice mail today asking me to call her back. She did not say why: just her creepy voice telling me to call her number. I did not even think to check my messages yet because I am at work and today is an especially stressful day. My friend gmail chatted me (way too many ways to contact people in this modern age) and told me that:
3:59 PM FRIEND: (the wife) told me she called you and asked you to call (the mistress).
i just wanted to say im sorry for that and ... give me a call when you get a chance.
Now as you can imagine- this is just all wrong. I feel callow for not calling her back. I feel callow for avoiding him. I feel superior because I feel like I would at least know that if my marriage were falling apart- the buddy that knew is not the person to talk to. I feel annoyed. I am not even in a relationship- the only bonus to that is no Drama!!!!!!! So please please please trust me when I tell you that if someone offers to tell you their deepest darkest secrets- REFRAIN- stop them in their tracks. At the end of the day- the juiciness of the gossip does not outweigh the possible ramifications. I am starting to wonder how responsible we are for each others wrong doings.
Tucker can you PLEASE get a phone again!!!!!!!! I need you. =)
Random thoughts that must come out in brief tourettes like thoughts:
Ciao Bellinas and bellinis- I have "real" writing to do. ( that was a joke- not a sociological statement on the journalistic value and sociological contribution blogging has had/made on/in the world..respectively. Wow I just created my own grammer just there- I am fucking amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have run into three more guys of my past. This time they are all men who maybe I kissed once, we exchanged numbers...hope was simmering. Then the mixed message phase happened. They'd seem me and be awkward and yet anxious for my attention. They would say that I had to hang out with them and that I should call. But but but- YOU NEVER RETURN THOSE PHONECALLS!!! Repeatedly this would occur. Unfinished business just trapsing around my neighborhood. I may have been kidding before but there is something up with my Karma right now- some divine spirit is playing a heavty joke on me- I am really trying to hear the message.
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