Saturday, November 29, 2008

I'm Turning Into a Virtual Slut

If I had any dignity at all, I'd stop now. But I'm deep in the weeds of my own delusion. Ahhh. The guilty pleasure of inappropriate behavior. I keep thinking of lines from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. And find myself blushing that I identify with a character that a boy, only twenty two, created long ago. But truth be told, I also Identified with Aschenbach, Thomas Mann's character from Death in Venice. Only now, at the other end of my life, can I know I feel something akin to the longing, the foolishness one will engage in to follow the sound of a voice, or the very young man who moves so beautifully you blush to feel your lust and know you are invisible now at last. Only here in my words do I exist. You have real lives. Jobs you need to keep, families to feed, husbands, wives, lovers, children. I have friends who have lives, too. But aside from the occasional visit from a female friend or two, and the weekday matinee movie date with Nick, I have no life. A strange old dog and I share a small but comfy space. I'm crazy enough to be disabled, but not too crazy to live on my own. And though I am difficult, the people who love me, love me well and for a long, long time.

But still I am a fierce bitch now and then. Since I'm crazy and have been long enough to know one when I see one, I have a friend who is approaching her fifties and really needs some therapy. She is claiming to be too busy to squeeze it in, too poor. But she's also one of the most extravagantly generous women I know, and I've known her a long time. Extravagant with her time, loading herself with social obligations and wants that must be met, yet repeats a terribly dysfunctional dynamic of the same attraction to just the same kind of wrong man. She has plenty of time for the wrong man. Really the wrong man. Three wrong men in her past and one in her present. See what I mean about being difficult? Would you want me in your real life? I have high standards for everyone. Yet I am something of a cyber slut. I have no real life in which to misbehave, so I misbehave here and hope it's harmless fun. However if I were acting like this in the real world, I'd be making an appointment to talk it out with my therapist. I'd be seeing my shrink to get a med check. Anytime I'm having too much fun, I think I might just be crazy instead.

I knew this guy was dangerous in a sweet and seemingly harmless way, but I only noticed him when he was commenting on other people's blogs. And he lives "abroad" shall we say. There is no chance in hell I'm ever going to meet him, or so I hope. Because not only is he too young, he really is the wrong kind of man for me.

Recently Randal (who lives in Cincinnati (or so he says) and not abroad, (not to say I don't adore him, but he's married with children and I don't go there, so shut up), wrote about his fondness for the Baroque Italian composers and snowy weather. I'd have to go back to Randals to look to tell you the composers name, and it's late and I'm lazy. Vivaldi was a favorite of mine, and I didn't look much farther, but I did live in Italy in the mid 1060's and I was modeling in Milan, hanging out with famous artists and the world seemed to want to be my oyster, but I didn't believe I deserved it. So, other than the Italian bassist, who was so poor he didn't have his own apartment, the men I spent time with were very well off. And eventually I ran like hell. Happiness for me? No. Not in the cards. My crazy mother wanted me to come home. She needed me.

Well, she's dead now so I can finally live my own life. And I don't really like to travel anymore. Once train travel was replaced with flying sardine cans, and then they retired the old luxury liners with cruise ships, I stopped liking to travel. I lost my sense of adventure once they started strip searching me at the airport.

Anyway, to get back to my infatuations. I knew he was potential trouble. But now I find myself stalking his site. But he isn't my first virtual crush. My first crush was Scarlet Blue. I was very sad when she dismantled her site. And now and then I find her at Fairlane's place, and notice I'm a little jealous she talks to him but not to me. Oh well, love seldom runs smooth.

I've had a thing for the Unconventional Conventionist who is a sweet and snarky peach and nothing at all like the Progressive Traditionalist who is a troll, and a pompous ass as well. No UC pierced my heart one day by letting me know he was reading my novel and had left me a musical message of a very personal sort on a certain chapter. It was sweet, lovely UC sitting at this baby grand piano playing the Whippenpoof Song of the notorious Skull and Bones fraternity.

What can I say, my daddy taught it to me. And in the chapter called Body Warmth, little eight or nine year old Judy is doing dinner dishes as she warbles the Whippenpoof song. The very real, real time, virtual man, UC, was there in my novel, at the bottom of the page, playing accompaniment to my little reedy voice as I sang the lyrics. That my dears is nothing short of magic. And it both ripped me asunder, and healed me as well. So, UC isn't really a crush at all. I really love him. I love him like a... There are no words.

But there are other virtual men I have had the occasional crush on. I now have two crushes going on simultaneously. Only two you say? Well, Dr. Ziaus has Germaine, Mathman has Dcup. Probably the rest of the men and women I have lusted after had mates of their own as well, not even imaginary mates, but real flesh and blood mates. I trust Randal's claim that he is married. Besides, he doesn't ever flirt with me, and he does flirt. Oh yes he does. Just not with me. But there are bloggers who may not really be flirting who leave such provocative comments I find my heart going pitty patter at the thought of them. Take Fairlane for instance. I ran across Fairlane at Scarlet's and then of course followed him home. (She was probably posting there.) But I found Fairlane very interesting. He is one of the funniest bloggers around. Thoughtful and smart as well. So I kept going back like a bad habit I couldn't quite break. Then every once in a while, Fairlane would visit me and commit what amounts to a virtual hit and run. He would leave a comment like "Well what about Sartre!" Like I was some dumb shit and had completely left out the main ingredient. When what I was posting about had nothing to do with the Existentialists or the early twentieth century or... What the Fuck! And I would obsess like mad trying to solve that riddle. Pure nonsense. Not exactly a crush--more like fear and insecurity.

But now I loves me some Tengrain. And I'm hungry as well. But I only have white bread. How sad.
Oh yeah, there's Kelso and his nuts. I'm overly fond of him too. He's so easy. All you have to do with Kelso is smile and nod and say, Ummmhummm? And he'll go on and on like a top sent spinning. So very satisfying.

35 comments:

Mathman6293 said...

Having white bread in your cupboard is not necessarily a bad. I could whip of some French toast for you, especially since you're hungry and if you like egg coated bread drenched in sweet delicious syrup.

Utah Savage said...

Oh honey aren't you sweet. But sad to say, I had French toast for breakfast.

Dusty said...

Crushes...they do pass the time don't they? ;)

DCup said...

Oh, Utah. You so get it. The blogcrush is a mad whirl of giddiness and promise.

Not that I'm pimping my man, but he does make the best French Toast.

KELSO'S NUTS said...

UTAH: What did I tell you about how when you ASSUME you make an ASS out of U and ME?

Ask yourself if maybe given your problem being a glut of white bread, it might be NOT brainiest idea to treat a man as a mere afterthought who lives two blocks from El Mercado SuperKosher and can cook "grivines" and "matzo brei".

To quote Earl Weaver: "It's what you learn after you know it all that counts."

Gail said...

Hi Utah-
I am "grabbed" by your honest writing - you, it grabs me. !!!!

It appears I am one of those who has a 'real-flesh-man', almost 20 years now. I paid my dues on my way to him as did he on his way to me. To quote my Dad (not some famous writer), he would say, "Gimpy (my nic name since I was 11 after I broke my ankle and he said I gimped, not limped), anyway, he would say (he is passed away), "Gimpy? You finally got it right"!!
And my mom, still alive and vibrant, says, :I trust him with my life."
If you knew what they said about others before him - the grandness of these two statements is immeasurable. Amen

It is the first snow here in Connecticut. I am thrilled. I am decorating the table with our Christmas stuff and putting up our manger, which was our families when I was little. Days like this provide a necessary balance.

You are quite a gal and I am so glad I met Kevin and therefore you.

Love,
Gail
p4ace.....

KELSO'S NUTS said...

And for what it's worth, hon, I'm always with them what was with ME "at the ships of Mylae."

That was off the top of the head, hon.

I'm a bonehead, but I did pay attention in school when the teacher was talking.

MadMike said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
MadMike said...

OK! I get this one also; nonetheless I must confess to some small confusion. If women who experience the brief passion of blog love are called virtual sluts what are the men who experience the same passion? Are we also "virtual sluts" or is there another [less than fond] appellation for us such as "virtual dirty old men?" :-)

What about those affections that arise from a simple understanding of the words, thoughts and feelings of another blogger. For example, dearest Stella is like a sister to me. What does that mean? Is there a label? A name? Ah! The emotional dyspepsia of the virtual label.

Sigh! It is all so confusing. In some respects dear Utah we could be twins that were separated at birth. I have gleaned from your writings that we share some common ground when it comes to certain extant adventures or discreet passions:-) I think it is time I linked you to my place!

I hope you had a wonderful holiday!

anita said...

yum! french toast. i think i'll make some for dinner later. hmmm ... i think i'm a french toast slut.

;)

Utah Savage said...

I leave my favorite morsel for last. What does that say about me?

Utah Savage said...

On nearly last.

anita said...

i do the same thing. not sure what it says ... maybe we both want to go out with a Big Bang.

Utah Savage said...

Mike, might you be mad dogs? Following the scent... Hot on the trail?

Utah Savage said...

I know a man who could probably wax lyrical about the "big bang theory" but he's gone away mad.

Utah Savage said...

Anita, you have been the object of so many men's affection in the bloggy love department. I watched them gather outside your door waiting for an invitation in, and then you just turned off the lights and left them all standing there in the dark with their tongues hanging out, panting slightly.

Randal Graves said...

I would flirt, but your accusations of me inhabiting Cincinnati cuts deep. Sniff.

Of course I'm married, and some days that's unfortunate. Que pense-t-elle, la France?

Veracini was the composer.

Utah Savage said...

Cincinnati is a foreign country isn't it?

MadMike said...

Mad dogs? Hmmm....Works for me~~~

KELSO'S NUTS said...

UTAH: Never mad, dear. Always needling. That's what older brothers do.

Which "Big Bang" did you mean: the explosion of a primordial ball of hydrogen beginning the space-time continuum, the decesion by the Chancellor Of The Exchequer to allow seats on the London exchanges to be transferrable in a liquid market, or something sexual?

Comrade Kevin said...

I can proudly say I helped invent the internet crush (in my own small way). And had a few internet girlfriends along the way.

anita said...

never been to cincinati, i gather that's a good thing ... plus:

"Well I never been to Heaven
But I been to Oklahoma
Well they tell me I was born there
But I really don't remember
In Oklahoma, not Arizona
What does it matter"

sorry, it's a grisly day up here. figured i'd throw that into the pot and see what happens.

;)

Utah Savage said...

Kelso, you can talk to me about any kind of big bang you like and I'll be fascinated. I'll smile and say MummmHumm? and you'll continue on an on like a top sent spinning... So very satisfying.

KELSO'S NUTS said...

@ AXN: Here's one of my all-time faves:

I've never seen a purple cow
I never hope to see one
But I can tell you anyhow
I'd rather see than be one

[My mother used to sing some weird song about Manx cats that was similiar]

@ UTAH: Those are some pretty provocative words, my dear. I may have to discuss that with you further. If I'm taking the double-entendre right. If not, I take the compliment.

Sylvia K said...

Always provide me with a chuckle or a belly laugh. And even being seventy-five doesn't eliminate the mental fantasies of all kinds, but hey, it's better than nothing!

Utah Savage said...

Sylvia, so glad you joined the voices here. Yes, I live mostly in my head. It is, after all, the main erogenous zone. At least for women it is. Yu men seem to be of two minds--the main one seems to live in your pants.

simstone said...

Funny, I never thought of you as a slut at all, virtual or otherwise. Opinionated? Absolutely. But most anonymous bloggers are. My two cents worth.

Border Explorer said...

Would someone please give Unconventional Conventionist a bouquet of roses for that performance vid? How nice was that?

Utah Savage said...

The sweetness of that accompaniment to my little girl's voice reduced me to such weeping. The kind generosity and complete understanding was breathtaking. I will always love him. And better than I ever loved anyone in my real family.

Rastamick61 said...

On a camping trip in Bar Harbor Maine we came upon a storefront that had a snippet from Prufrock in it. I think it said something about ragged claws so I says to my wife I says I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling the floors of silent seas... What's that she says, perking up, T.S. Eliot says I. Awwwww, seee, that's why I married you she says. And so I say thanks Thomas Stearns, you old sourpuss. You made the tent a warm and lovely place that evening for us and we've now got an 8 and a 12 year old to show for our two trips to that town.

Utah Savage said...

That's the best T.S. Eliot story I ever heard.

Demeur said...

I'm reminded of what Burgess Meredith said in Grumpy old men. "When you get to be my age all you have left are memories."
Let me add my own wisdom. Fantasies are best left as fantasies.

Utah Savage said...

Oh Don't I know that! I think women intrinsically know that once a fantasy has been made into some kind of reality, it looses it's value as a fantasy. Now you actually know that it isn't as good in real life as it was in your imagination. This particular topic may need a post of its own.

Stella said...

Oh, how late I am. Mike, you are the big brother I always wanted but never had. Thank you so much. Hugs to you.

Tengrain said...

Ah, the age old delima: how to go from virtual to actual?

Stick with me Utah, and you'll never have white bread again.

Regards,

Tengrain