"Look and dry your eyes . . ."

Now -

The mist across the window hides the lines

But nothing hides the colour

Of the lights that shine

Electricity so fine

Look and dry your eyes





Something else I played on the jukebox while we were in NYC was "Steppin' Out." Obviously the video is set in NYC and is meant to have that throw back to Cole Porter 20s and 30s style to it but even without the video, you can sense a narrative in the story of the song itself that seems perfectly suited to New York. I can't explain it but this song has always struck me as the kind of thing you only sing to someone you really actually love. Not just someone you lust after, but someone you actually love and care for quite deeply. I used to listen to it a lot in the last relationship I had. Seemed like whatever problems we had, I could listen to that song and think about the escapism of it all-- as though it didn't matter how bad things had been, you could get into a car and drive away from it all and have some type of renewed faith. It still makes me a little wistful even though I never tell anyone that.



Ugh. I'm letting a man make me maudlin this evening and I don't want to go there. (And no, for the record, I have not been drinking, LOL. I knew that's what you were thinking!) On to other topics.



So my friend Margaret and I were talking tonight about this guy I met who seemed to be employing a lot of techniques he gleaned from watching The Pick-Up Artist on VH1. And as we were having this dialogue we were talking about how much it sucks when someone gives you canned lines and fakery. I don't like feeling as though I am talking to a robot; I want someone to be authentic with me. That's when I had a light bulb moment and I started to laugh. I told her, "I think I have finally connected the dots and put some pieces together. I think that's one of the main reasons why I really like these guys with raging testosterone: they are who they are and they don't care what other people think. They do what they want and there's no fakery in the things they tell you, like it or not." It's like how we've been laughing about the So Hood situation and the "Don't let me be a So Hood" jokes but the other FRUSTRATING side of the coin is the game-playing. And people, you know what I'm talking about. You meet somebody and you know that you like them and hope they like you back but you can't dare go there. You gotta keep it all secret and do the "I like you but I don't. I can't let you know how I feel. I gotta be all covert ops and play it hella cold at first." As a fire sign-- an Irish fire sign no less with a love sign in Scorpio and a Leo Ascendant-- this makes me nucking futs. I feel like Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie. You know how Jessica Lange's character tells Dorothy that she wishes a man would come up to her and just lay it all out about what he wanted. So Dustin Hoffman does this to her sans Dorothy make-up and she shuts his ass down in 10 seconds flat. I feel like the Dustin Hoffman in that situation. Do you know how difficult it is for a woman who isn't demure to try to be for the sake of not being a So Hood? Urrrgh. Fucking hell. Here we are back on a topic of frustration. I need to have a shirt made that says: If you want a shrinking violet, I am not your woman. Well. I guess there's always Room 312 at the Hyatt. (Kidding, friends, only kidding. Although every man in that cab was quite handsome . . .)



We went to see Ghost Town tonight and I laughed myself silly. Thankfully in this film, Greg Kinnear did not turn into a weep-fest. He's back to playing the snarky guy, which I can appreciate. And Ricky Gervais was funny and charming. It was worth a view at the dollar movies.


Stream of consciousness moment in writing: I am watching this collection of 80s videos that Margaret recorded for me off of VH1 Classic and I gotta say, as I have said before, it sucks that Robert Palmer is dead. Talk about a handsome devil with a great voice. Goodness me. I was watching the Power Station video for "Bang a Gong" and he was in that video with slicked back hair and a business suit and . . . wow . . . I had to sit up and take note for a moment there. Now Wham's "I'm Your Man" is on. No neon suits or "Choose Life" t-shirts in this one. That makes me laugh. Oh shit, TTD is on now! I am still all these years later trying to figure out what he's talking about with butterfly tears and crocodile cheers and why he thought he was like a reincarnated Jesus. Um, yeah, and NO.