I posted this goddamned thing last night, but something is wrong with the computer!
Here I am at the last hours of today, wondering about yesterday. As for tomorrow, what comes, will. The reason I'm worrying about yesterday will come into the update later. As for the now, I'm struggling with the ongoing argument of beauty. I understand that it is important to be well kempt. This says that you take care of yourself, keep up maintainance and all that. But that should be enough. You should not be forced to spend 20 minutes on your hair everyday, 15 on makeup, thousands of dollars on clothes and hundreds more on hair. So why do I suddenly feel that I am? And is this a good thing or a bad thing?
On the one hand, looking better is never a bad thing. Usually, if you look good you feel good, and you get a more positive reaction from people. On the other hand, spending a lot of time and money on appearances is shallow, wasteful and does no actual good. I understand that there is a minimum that you should exceed in terms of personal maintanance, but if you take care of yourself, dress acceptably well and keep your appearance up, why isn't that enough? I suppose my belief stems from my upbringing. As a child, new clothes were rarely bought and hair was never done. We got our hair cut by my mother and the only requirement was to brush your hair before leaving the house. I'm the only one in my house who can actually french braid hair, curl hair or do anything more complicated than a simple knot or sweep. (I have 2 sisters. Its assumed that eyeglasses should last at least 4 years, (6 is more appropriete) and generally vanity was looked down on. I'm also the only one in the family who wears makeup, (other than my brother. He wears lots of black eyeliner). So I guess I was brought up to believe that looks didn't count for much, and ability, hard work, and friendliness were more important. Imagine the beliefs of childhood crashing down. I never know what is true. I never understand humanity.
A lot of this nonsense was brought about around the same time that I got my new job. (Yes, I have a new job). Its only 15 hours a week but its doing exactly what I want to be doing; math education. I'm an item writer, which means I write story problems. You know the kind, if Dick is 15 miles away from Jane and she's driving at 20 mph, how soon will they get pregnant? Junk like that, ignoring the preggies. Its a company here in town, (although why I've never heard of them, I don't know). The company is called Engelmann Becker and I think I like it there. I'm a little worried, because I hear the egos are huge and need constant stroking, and you know how I have a habit of opening my big dumb mouth. But I'm hoping that they will eventually realize how brilliant I am and hire me full time at a large salary. In the meantime, I'm looking for other work. I now have a foot in the door. Hah.
But I'm not going to work tonight, (I work my own hours, they don't care when or how I do it as long as I bring in new math problems). Instead, I'm going to enjoy the lovely apartment I'm in. The Tobes is out of town for Thanksgiving, and very kindly offered to let me housesit, which means away from the house, and downtown as opposed to very far away from town. This is excellent, and staying in this apartment is inspiring. Its gorgeous, well kept and very gay. I think in CharmingToby's honor, I should seduce someone. I mean, when will I get a chance like this again. Where am I going to find someone to seduce anyway? Maybe I'll just watch a porn or something and call it a day. That's not very dramatic. It is however, part of the reason I'm worrying about yesterday. Last night, my dance partner called up drunk again. He does this a lot, and I find it very funny and rather charming. And very flattering, since I'm probably the only person he feels comfortable enough around to ramble to when he's drunk. Except his roomates. And whoever's drinking with him. And the entire tango group, which he rambled to once when he had several beers. But still. He calls me. That's special. (I'm going to choose to believe I'm the only one he ritualisticly calls). I'm worried about him, because I kinda think he's interested in me. In that way. And I'm not sure I'm not interested in him. In that way. But it would be a bad idea. I mean, I'm just not ready for a relationship at this point in my life, and I think he is. And we certainly couldn't do a one night stander, he's my dance partner. I couldn't look at him the same anymore. I think when you get into a dance relationship with someone, they become close in a really odd way. Not quite like a brother/sister way because I don't really think about him as a brother, but in a friends/family kind of way. I certainly feel like he's family. And you don't date family.
OK, I think its time for bed. More updates later, but don't expect any grand seductions in the apartment. I think I've lost it, whatever it was.
Lotsa Love
Lady
On the one hand, looking better is never a bad thing. Usually, if you look good you feel good, and you get a more positive reaction from people. On the other hand, spending a lot of time and money on appearances is shallow, wasteful and does no actual good. I understand that there is a minimum that you should exceed in terms of personal maintanance, but if you take care of yourself, dress acceptably well and keep your appearance up, why isn't that enough? I suppose my belief stems from my upbringing. As a child, new clothes were rarely bought and hair was never done. We got our hair cut by my mother and the only requirement was to brush your hair before leaving the house. I'm the only one in my house who can actually french braid hair, curl hair or do anything more complicated than a simple knot or sweep. (I have 2 sisters. Its assumed that eyeglasses should last at least 4 years, (6 is more appropriete) and generally vanity was looked down on. I'm also the only one in the family who wears makeup, (other than my brother. He wears lots of black eyeliner). So I guess I was brought up to believe that looks didn't count for much, and ability, hard work, and friendliness were more important. Imagine the beliefs of childhood crashing down. I never know what is true. I never understand humanity.
A lot of this nonsense was brought about around the same time that I got my new job. (Yes, I have a new job). Its only 15 hours a week but its doing exactly what I want to be doing; math education. I'm an item writer, which means I write story problems. You know the kind, if Dick is 15 miles away from Jane and she's driving at 20 mph, how soon will they get pregnant? Junk like that, ignoring the preggies. Its a company here in town, (although why I've never heard of them, I don't know). The company is called Engelmann Becker and I think I like it there. I'm a little worried, because I hear the egos are huge and need constant stroking, and you know how I have a habit of opening my big dumb mouth. But I'm hoping that they will eventually realize how brilliant I am and hire me full time at a large salary. In the meantime, I'm looking for other work. I now have a foot in the door. Hah.
But I'm not going to work tonight, (I work my own hours, they don't care when or how I do it as long as I bring in new math problems). Instead, I'm going to enjoy the lovely apartment I'm in. The Tobes is out of town for Thanksgiving, and very kindly offered to let me housesit, which means away from the house, and downtown as opposed to very far away from town. This is excellent, and staying in this apartment is inspiring. Its gorgeous, well kept and very gay. I think in CharmingToby's honor, I should seduce someone. I mean, when will I get a chance like this again. Where am I going to find someone to seduce anyway? Maybe I'll just watch a porn or something and call it a day. That's not very dramatic. It is however, part of the reason I'm worrying about yesterday. Last night, my dance partner called up drunk again. He does this a lot, and I find it very funny and rather charming. And very flattering, since I'm probably the only person he feels comfortable enough around to ramble to when he's drunk. Except his roomates. And whoever's drinking with him. And the entire tango group, which he rambled to once when he had several beers. But still. He calls me. That's special. (I'm going to choose to believe I'm the only one he ritualisticly calls). I'm worried about him, because I kinda think he's interested in me. In that way. And I'm not sure I'm not interested in him. In that way. But it would be a bad idea. I mean, I'm just not ready for a relationship at this point in my life, and I think he is. And we certainly couldn't do a one night stander, he's my dance partner. I couldn't look at him the same anymore. I think when you get into a dance relationship with someone, they become close in a really odd way. Not quite like a brother/sister way because I don't really think about him as a brother, but in a friends/family kind of way. I certainly feel like he's family. And you don't date family.
OK, I think its time for bed. More updates later, but don't expect any grand seductions in the apartment. I think I've lost it, whatever it was.
Lotsa Love
Lady