Whilst I was trying to get around yesterday’s marathon traffic, I was driving through Skid Row and saw dressed up, made up trannies in hand me down skirt suits and peacock blue eye shadow and wigs sitting in old worn fold out chairs with cracked plastic back padding, in the warm Sunday sun listening to sermons of preachers outside in what I’m dubbing “pop up churches”. During my long detour, I had on a NPR show about the meaning of the prefix “Franken” in our culture– how we put it in front of a word like “Frankenstorm” to describe something terrible and frightening, or in front of other things to place emphasis on something that goes wrong at the hands of humans. Susan J. Wolfson said that the idea in the original story was for Dr. Frankenstein to make the perfect man. If only.
Recently I’ve experienced wanting to “cut”, “splice”, “paste” parts of guys to form one that would fully work for me. Yes, if only life were Photoshop. Of course, you can’t do this. People you’re romantically inclined to- are what they are. The solution is to be just friends with them all until you learn to “see” better through the fog.
Been spending time with my ex “the former band boy turned mathematician” applying for PhD programs, who pretty much only reads technical books and non-fiction, and who lacks proclivities towards “sweet nothings” or “dirty talk”. We’re around each other about one day per week, for our dog who he misses. It’s nice now that we don’t have to worry about the household stuff, the minor aggravations that added up and don’t have any new resentments. His is the first family I never “vibed” with. I’m always a hit with parents and siblings due to my great home-training. My Frankenfella would be as uber-smart as my ex, share more things in common with me and have a fun and understanding family unit. My Frankenfella would also have more common sense and real life logic. What the Big Beagle in the Sky giveth in book smarts, she taketh away in other areas.
Started hanging out with a guy who I’ve known (not super well) for about nine years, a “commercial director”. Always thought he was cool and attractive. He recently got out of a long term relationship too, so it was natural that we commiserated about this common factor. Then said guy offered me a “window” where I could have unprotected sex with him after he got tested. Call me someone who thinks highly of myself, but “window” before he went out and did it with other chicks who “have no visible warts down there”- yeah, no thanks. My Frankenfella would be a bit more scientific than this and know that such things are not sole indicators of STD transmission. Tis a shame, because this guy reads fiction, three books at a time like I do, and has the natural ability to weave yarns about getting hot n’ heavy, but he also candidly recounts to me how he split a Motel 6 room to have sex with a married woman he recently met on the internet who he described as 15 to 20 pounds overweight a couple weekends ago. This is something my ex and other male and female friends would never do.
Call me puritanical, but I don’t hang with people who pay for sex when there are so many people out there who can get it/give it for free. What are we- middle aged people in a small town with only a few bored kinda hotties who will put out because they need validation or urbanites with a selection of millions of single young professionals? When I told Mr. Director (neh new nickname “Motel 6″) I wasn’t interested in his type of FwB set-up, he got all butt hurt about it, insisted upon having “a talk” instead of graciously accepting the lady’s choice. The talk consisted of him talking at me at a restaurant- about how rejected and judged he felt, with a female friend of mine as onlooker at the next table. My Frankenfella would be as literate and be as silly as this guy, sans his brand of sexual stuff and offerings.
Which brings me to guy three, a “film producer” who has the attributes I’d find ideal for my Frankenfella at this time in my life- “doesn’t do drugs”, “thinks shacking up with someone who’s in another relationship is wrong”, thinks sex should be gratis, is handsome, and reads screenplays. However, he’s completely OCD and got up to clean surfaces in his house about five times during a hang out to watch a movie and asked me if I could see layers of dust from across the room. I can stand a bit more of a touch of crazy than most of my female friends and actually enjoy it, but this time I may have reached my limit. “A” (online dating coach extraordinaire) went out on one single date with him six or seven years ago and he drove her nuts. This chap also referred to himself in the third person on more than one occasion. He also couldn’t get it together to hang out with me for weeks (because he admittedly was going on dates with others that didn’t pan out, after which he would text me photos of himself in his reading glasses/getting ready for bed) and then he got jealous because I was hanging out with someone else). My Frankenfella would have the same cinematic interests and moral attributes as me and text me cute stuff, and also like to keep the house clean, but not get bent out of shape about the little things or have double standards.
Things to ponder during your lunar bath later: I saw this quote on Twitter: “We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.” -Tom Robbins. So, when you’re out there for tonight’s #MonsterMoon or at more Halloween gatherings this week, maybe you’ll meet (or have already met at parties this past weekend) that “right” person you don’t have to piecemeal together. Maybe he/she will have everything you ever wanted, but just happen to sprout hair when the moon is round and full, and maybe you can just overlook that and lurv ‘em anyhow for everything else they have going for them. As the NPR radio show commentator says in the transcript: “Lustrous black and flowing hair; his teeth was pearly whiteness, that you can see that Victor Frankenstein has designed this creature to be a beautiful man, and it hasn’t turned out that way.” So, watch out for those LA people designed to be gorgeous…
Now, where’s that sweetie Herman Munster? Bring him to me. <3 T