Image.
Posted a few more pics and things. Click on “name,” “face” or “somebody” at left.

No shirt, no shoes, and no service.
I broke up with Robert today. He’s my AOL representative. We’ve had a fairly long affair. When I called him today to say that it was over, he wouldn’t listen. “But why?” he kept asking. I couldn’t give him a reason, really. The cost of our relationship, mostly, but how do you tell him that?

He made several offers, trying to rekindle the flame. Gifts. Secrets. He promised me more time.

Every time I call him, and tell him it’s over, it’s the same story. He doesn’t listen. All he wants is to keep me for his own.

So when I interrupted him today — when I told him, “No, thanks, Robert. I don’t need you anymore” — he gave me the cold shoulder. The longest, awkwardest pause we’ve ever encountered in our conversations. But I got through to him this time, I’m sure of it. It’s over between us.

Besides, I’ve got my eyes on someone new. A few somebodies actually, though we haven’t been introduced. One works for Earthlink, but — I’m not that interested. The other works for Juno, and I’m considering my options. There’s also the blind-date called Charm.net. But that one is a wild card, and I’d really like to think about settling down, you know?

And I’m still trapped in another unhealthy relationship with Cynthia, my Verizon Wireless representative. She secretly hates me, but I can’t do anything about it. She’s cruel. She wants to hurt me. She won’t let me go, not unless I pay her off — and she wants $175, cash money. It’s blackmail, and it sucks. I think she’s jealous that I’ve been making eyes at Sprint’s customer service representative Matthew, who offered me a mobile phone that actually works in my apartment. And don’t tell Cynthia, but I accepted. But now, since she’s got her claws dug in so deep, I can’t afford to see them both, and I’m going to have to cancel with Matthew, and bear the burden of Cynthia’s cellular wrath a few months longer.

These love triangles are wearing me out.

Post-script
Like the dork that I am, I had to take the hipster-handbook quiz, drool over the drawings. I scored an abominable 47% hip, which can only mean that my coolness factor is unmeasurable by man-made methods.

I think even taking the quiz disqualifies one, doesn’t it? At any rate, as a result, I’ve set up a meeting with the Buick dealership, made an appt to get my legs waxed, set up a subscription to Redbook and have begun knitting baby booties and polishing the china.

If the counterculture won’t have me, the Republicans will gladly convert me. Speaking of, read a nice review of “AmandaBright@home,” which appears to be a horrifying novel by the Queen of the New Traditionalists on salon.com. Figure I read the review, don’t need to subject myself to the book. Also caught an intriguing story on the incest factor inherent in the Twin Models Are Hot phenomenon.

Perhaps — and this is just a thought — I should go to sleep and unplug this evil machine.

Speed, accuracy, WPM.
I got to see ‘Secretary’ this evening. A fine, fine flick. The tenderest S/M story I ever saw [well, and the only, but hey, who’s counting?].

Note to younger sisters reading this: This is an R-rated movie, so don’t even think about it.

Subnote: It’s rated ‘R’ for “Graphic depictions of Behavioral Disorders,” which I think is beyond fucked up. I have never seen that as a reason before. I mean, “As Good As It Gets” didn’t earn that rating for Nicholson’s character’s extreme OCD, did it?

So it wasn’t perfect, and I haven’t read the short story it’s based on. The ending was beyond-fairy-tale. The plot was a little sketchy at times. But it was tender, it was touching, it was fascinating. Maggie Gyllenhaal shined, I think, in showing the coming of age of Lee Holloway, her coming-out as a submissive, her development and acceptance of herself, and her growing love for Mr. Gray. And it was different. It was a romantic comedy that didn’t star Tom Hanks and fucking Meg Ryan.

I know a lot of people think the S/M theme is dangerous, that this film normalizes violence against women, that it promotes the “women want to be hurt” thing, but I disagree. I think it makes a very clearly statement that this is the particular and singular sexual preference of Lee and Mr. Gray. Lee does have a backbone; Mr. Gray is a kind man. But when it comes to their attraction to each other, and the way they choose to act on that attraction — they’re consenting adults, and besides: they were retarded for each other.

Plus it’s just a movie. You know — it reminded me of Shrek.

Anyway. Other stuff happened today, but it was even more personal than what I usually share.