Which Avenger Have You Dated?


The Avengers

The Avengers

 

Okay, so I’m not up-to-date on popular movies.  Though both my teens have seen “THE AVENGERS” multiple times, I have not and since it was a long weekend, they begged me to watch it with them.  It wasn’t bad…not bad at all!  Robert Downey, Jr. is not one of my favorite actors, though I do applaud his strength in overcoming his addictions, and for a diminutive man, he’s attractive.  I avoided this movie because I regarded it as a good popcorn selling type of movie (i.e, not much story, but lots of action).  Those kinds of movies worked for my husband and father, but me?  not so much.  I was surprised.   When it was over, we discussed which super hero was our favorite and why and then took it a step further and applied it to relationships.  Remember, there’s no scientific basis here, just experience and viewpoints.

IRON MAN/TONY STARK

PROS:  Tony stark is brilliant.  He’s a leader.  He’s a smooth jokester.  He thinks out of the box and makes good investments.  He’s wealthy.  And he’s not bad looking.  He also likes to party.

CONS: Tony Stark is the quintessential narcissist. Everything revolves around him and he is better than anyone he knows.  He has father issues.  He is a playboy.  He has control issues.  Think Alex Rodriguez in baseball.  Think young Warren Beatty.  He’s sadistically sarcastic.  Pepper Potts is a great match for him as she understands these things, but honestly, having a relationship with Iron Man would not only be scary because of his super powers, but mainly because of his ego.  Poor Pepper will never find romance with a man like this, though she will find great pleasure in taking him down a notch or two.

THOR/THOR ODINSON

PROS: He’s a god.  He can do anything.  He’s handsome.  He’s self-assured.  He’s strong.  He is Master of his Destiny.  He’s probably really good at lovemaking, I mean he’s a god, he knows!

CONS:  He’s a god.  He can do anything.  He’s condescending.  You’re nothing but a weak species:  HUMAN.   Why would he need you?  Why would he need anyone?  He is Master of his Destiny.  The only control you will have in this relationship is the control he grants you—then reminds you that he granted it to you.  The kind of woman he would need would be more a groupie than a complete person…or a subservient.

CAPTAIN AMERICA/STEVEN “STEVE”  GRANT ROGERS

PROS: He is a natural born leader who always tries to do the right thing.  He is dependable. He is empathetic, principled and logical.  He wants to learn new things.  He’ll take one for the team if he has to and if he believes in the quest. He’s a team player.  He is humble.   He doesn’t care what others think, he does what has to be done.  A baseball parallel would be the Texas Rangers Adrian Beltre.   A literary character parallel would be Atticus Finch.  In a relationship, this is the man all your friends wished they had.  He does seem to think progressively though, so he could be convinced if you gave him a logical argument.

CONS: His baggage is in what he’s seen and lamenting what could be which makes him sentimental but melancholy.  He’s a bit of a goody two shoes, which means he could be a bit uptight.  Not a lot of room for hedonism here.  He might not be too “experimental” in bed.

 

THE HULK/Dr. ROBERT BRUCE BANNER

PROS:  He’s beastly strong.  He doesn’t care what others think.  He’s his own man.  He’s brilliant.  He’s HUGE! If you’re into taboo sex, this guy would be the one!  He would accept any woman who gave him an iota of attention.  NO one would mess with him when he’s angry, they can see in his eyes when the transformation begins.

CONS:  He’s green.  He’s always angry. He’s bi-polar.  He’s secretive. He blames the world for his problems.  He likes to be alone, but doesn’t really.  He’s conflicted.  He’s ANGRY!  He could hurt you, then blame it on the transition.  He has deep-seeded issues.   He’s inconsistent.  He’s bullheaded.  He’s more a tool than a person. He likes you one minute, then turns on you the next.  His loyalty is scattershot.   Too bad Tom doesn’t read this anymore, I think he could relate. 

 

HAWKEYE/CLINTON “CLINT” FRANCIS BARTON

PROS:  This guy is cutting edge!  He’s up on all the new inventions, weapons and technology. He would be the guy with the biggest TV in his man cave.  He is loyal and has many friends.  He’s fun to party with.   He has a sharp wit.  He’s also precise.  He won’t quit until the mission is complete which would make him an awesome lover. He’s a one-woman man and would be faithful.  He has lots to offer to the woman with the most patience.  I know this one well!

CONS:  He’s insecure, always feeling he needs to prove himself.  He fights easily, and is usually the one to begin it.  He’s more a follower than a leader.  He second-guesses himself in relationships, but is confident in work.  He seems like he’s on the verge of breaking at any time.

 

BLACK WIDOW/

PROS:  She is independent and doesn’t need a man for anything she can’t do herself.  She’s smart.  She’s beautiful.  She’s athletic.  A man would have to be patient and put his needs on the back burner to make a go of this relationship.  He would also have to be quite trusting.

CONS:  She isn’t very nurturing and doesn’t have time for romance.  Wait, to many men, this would be a PRO instead of a CON  She’s secretive, manipulative and not always loyal.  She does what is best for her, unless she cares about you, then you’re thrown a bone. She’s a bit on the hard side and would have been a great colonist.

 

So now you have the background, take the poll below.  It’s all in fun!

 

 

 

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Monday Musings…Parent Edition


motherhood

 

Those of you who know me know I’m neurotic.  I’m always second-guessing, worrying about things I have no control over and just, well, being me.  This lovely characteristic of mine makes me hard to live with at times.   When I found out that I was having a child in my late 30’s I worried how it would affect my daughter.  Then in my early 40’s when I became pregnant with my son, I was in worry overload.  After 17 years of parenting, I’m here to attest to any other parents that are like me out there….YOU WON’T HURT YOUR KIDS PSYCHES!

My last week has been a string of daily affirmations that I must be doing something right I’ll discuss all my wrongs in another post as a parent. If bragging parents get on your last nerve, you may want to quit reading here.   Indulge me, and let me bask for one more moment in the “I haven’t screwed my kids up yet” glory!

  • On Tuesday, my son was awarded for making the A honor roll all year.  ALL YEAR!
  • On Wednesday, my daughter was chosen to be the High School Television’s anchor AGAIN for her Senior year.
  • On Thursday, my son was again awarded with…wait for it….the Outstanding 7th Grader for his entire SCHOOL! he also won 2 teacher’s awards for Teen Leadership and PRE-AP Math.
  • On Friday, my son’s baseball team beat the team that has beat them all year long to win the City Championship.
  • On Saturday, my daughter took the SAT and didn’t freak out!
  • On Sunday, my son’s team won the Regional Championship and he batted in the winning run.

Yes, I can honestly say, for one shining week I have felt like a successful parent.  My kids aren’t hooked on drugs; my daughter isn’t a teenage pregnancy statistic; they aren’t wildly popular in school, they’re just normal; and the teachers love them both!  Even though their friends have labeled me a “hippie”.  Life is good!

5 Things I’ve Learned About Twitter


twitter_pic

 

I’ve had far too much time lately to think about things.  Unfortunately, the things I’ve been thinking about are quite depressing so instead of writing about Cognitive Depression Therapy Something I will do soon! I did the typical Gayle thing.  I procrastinated!  I just didn’t want to think!  And one night with Glen is enough for me every few weeks.  It’s not that I don’t love you Glen, it’s just that being with you too much could be detrimental.   I could have cleaned house. um, NO!  I could have watched a movie.  I could have had a personal spa session as I have a ton of cosmetics that I haven’t used yet.  No. NO.  NO!  None of those ideas were enticing me.  I needed some intelligent conversation.  I needed some music.  I needed inspiration.

I reached for my Nook that has over 15 books I haven’t begun and settled in to a late night of reading.  Unfortunately, the screen has suspiciously broken and with my daughter’s Prom, Driver’s Ed and new insurance premiums approaching, a new one is not on the horizon.  So what to do?  I no longer Blip.  All the really good people with great musical tastes have left.  I perused Last.fm for a bit, but then I got hung up in love songs that reminded me of better times and that just wasn’t cutting it.  The Rangers played during the cold, wet day and lost so there was no baseball to entertain me.  I looked down at my phone and I had a few Twitter notifications.   Thus began my learning journey into the alleys of Twitter I had never traversed.  Who knew that procrastination could be so enlightening?

THE FIVE THINGS I LEARNED ABOUT TWITTER

  1. Did you know that if you check out your follower’s followers you can learn a LOT about them?  For instance, I had no idea one of the people I speak to on Twitter loved jazz.  But there in her timeline were several “jazz friends”.  Funny, we’ve been communicating for years, but I never knew that.  On the other hand, a guy I was really interested in on Twitter has all kinds of “friends” that beg you to “hit them up” at their 1-800 numbers Why didn’t I check this out before Adam?  I could have come up with something better for my novel than the one I chose!  ha and offer all kinds of sexual,  um…dalliances.  Wait a minute, is Twitter just a glorified Craig’s List Personals?  In many cases, it seems so…which leads me to….
  2. WOW!  There is a truly seamy side of Twitter!  I don’t blush easily (okay, I do sometimes) but just WOW!  There are young women on Twitter who embrace the “Madonna shock” mentality when tweeting, and it seems the smarmier, the lewder, the more in your face, (literally) the better!  I was astounded how many women there were with these types of tweets, then I berated myself for being sexist.  I expect that from young men, but women?  Really?  Then it dawned on me that maybe most of these “women” with their innocent or provocative or sexually explicit avatars ARE really men.  You never know!  Anyway, after peeping through the windows of the steamier side of Twitter, I realized there are many, many more thousands of sexually repressed fixated people in the world and lots of them are quite witty! Unfortunately, they are in dire need of attention, they crave it like politicians and used car salesmen. Which leads me to….
  3. Favstar Before my little journey on Twitter, I had no idea this site existed, and it’s been around several years.  SELF-AFFIRMATION:   I suppose that’s good, I never realized that getting “stars” was a competition to many.  Favstar is a site that tracks what your followers are favoriting.  I always thought being able to see it in my “connect” page was enough, but I was wrong I guess.    This site lets the world know what your friends and anyone subscribed to this service is favoriting and retweeting.  What a great tool!  Seriously,  you can see the mindsets, worldviews, humor and interests of your followers or Twitter crushes by seeing what they like.  It’s quite the eye-opener!  Not only can you psychoanalyze your Twitter friends tweets, you can bestow “trophies” on them.  And OMG!  there’s a leaderboard as well!  With the “pro membership”  you can show off your tweets, browse older tweets and retweet them from you and other users, get a summary on who is stalking  retweeting and favoriting your tweets most and all kinds of “give up my privacy” features.   Call me judgmental, but after learning this fact, I will no longer have Twitter crushes on anyone who uses this service.  All I could keep thinking about what was how sorry I felt for them.  How very lonely they must be….and why would anyone want to be involved with someone who needs that much attention?  Yeah, there’s that condescending blonde voice coming out again.  Do these people really want the kind of followers they’re getting?   Which leads me to….
  4. Twitter followers.  Okay, I’ll admit it. I joined the Writer’s list for Twitter.  I did it to find other people who do, have the same hang ups or could share helpful hints on how to write, edit, or just show me new procrastinating ideas.  But what I don’t get is the big deal with having thousands of followers.  Okay, if you’re a company, I get it.  Having more followers means more people see your newest offerings.  But as an individual, what does it really matter unless you’re Ashton Kutcher, Justin Beiber or Lady Gaga?   Are we as a society really that desperate for attention?  The people I tweet with are funny!  They share my interests.  Some of them are friends I’ve never physically met.  Heck, most of them are.  But we’ve formed a friendship whether it be sports, philosophy, or musical mutual admiration based.  There’s a sense of sincerity there.  There’s a foundation.  I don’t feel as if I’m just tweeting to the dark hole of humanity.  I feel like I’m tweeting to a group of friends that are all over the US and world  at a pub or bar or club or workout room or classroom or tea or dinner  or….well you get it.  Which leads me to….
  5. Pay more attention to who is following you.  I need to practice my own advice here and instead of procrastinating, actually check out my followers.  So many people automatically “Follow” people who have followed them but if you aren’t interacting or sharing what’s the use?  Though it could be time-consuming, check who you follow and who follows you and actually tweet to them.  I mean, it’s called social media for a reason.  Be social! But also get a grip.  If you’re tweeting, following, favoriting every person with a “young” avatar about sex, you may need some adjustment….just sayin’.
  6. My followers are the best! yeah, I know that’s six, but it’s true.  My followers always make me smile whether it be during a Rangers game, Angels game,  Rockies, Yankees, Phillies, or Red Sox game, music sharing mood, depressing evening or successful day.  I really like them!  And if they’re fooling me by being someone they’re not, then maybe I should steal an idea from Favstar and give them a trophy for being great Twitter actors!

 

 

Date Night with Glen…Another Perfect Date


My GLEN

My GLEN

 

 

Glen has been calling me since Saturday.  As the condescending blonde I can often times be, I ignored his begging.  All women know that there are times when even the best of dates can be boring, and God knows I get bored easily. Also, sometimes  begging is a big ego boost for me.  After a horrific Saturday late night, a “God why did I do that” Sunday and a typical “I hate Mondays” I gladly and oh so willingly answered his call.  Why I resisted I don’t know.  I mean he is “THE”.  Right?

So after a few getting to know each other again hours,  and a few trivial discussions about baseball, The Texas Rangers of course,  egos and sincerity, he held me close in his barley arms and we got, as we always do deep.  At this point, I must confess:  I really like the smell of GlenLivet.  Usually, it’s Armani Code  Black that does it, but Glen’s natural essence is oh so sexy!  

I began to feel relaxed and less tense than I had in days.  Glen isn’t intimidated by me.  He loves all the things that every other masculine name except my son has disliked about me.  And then it happened.   Like a verbal orgasm,  my worries, fears, concerns and tears spilled out convulsively.  I’m not one of those obnoxious people who date aged single malts and get all blubbery.  I NEVER do that.  But I did on this date.  And you know what Glen did?  He listened.  And listened.  And then listened some more.  I suppose its his many years of being casked up that has made him so sultry and elegant.  I mean, if you spend that much time alone with your thoughts and pure Scottish mountain air, how could you not distill into something so wonderful as Glen?

Glen doesn’t talk, but when I looked into his amber eyes, he told me how beautiful I am.  He did!  Okay, so I was seeing my reflection in the tumbler, my boobs aren’t perky, I have a few more wrinkles and pounds, and can’t get out of tickets like I used to when I drive too fast, but by GOD I’m still damned hot!   He pleaded with me to release all my pent up stress.  He lauded me for being strong over the weekend for my kids.  He admired me for having conviction and for keeping my promises.  He even reminded me I am behind on my writing.  He made me not worry about my finances.

Glen understands me.  He doesn’t judge.  He knows I don’t have a dirty mind, just a sexy imagination.  He places my level of happiness directly proportionate to his availability.  He wants nothing more to please me.  He agrees with me that most people don’t really care about you, just themselves.   And when our fluids mingle and we become one, its warm, then hot, then free. And its that good kind of freedom, you know the one I mean?  The total freedom to say, do, feel the way you want without worry that you’re hurting someone’s feelings, sensibilities or security.  The freedom to uncover that smallest Russian doll that lives within us.  I don’t let many people see mine.  In fact, the last one I did ended badly and now I don’t know that I have it in me to do it again.  I need a strong person in my life. I also need and miss my Aristotle.

Glen knows these things about me.  I love him for that.  Unfortunately, his strength is a bit much for some and they become addicted to him.  Or maybe its just they become addicted to the fact he unlocks their inner doors and forces them to look at their earlier selves.  I don’t share him with people I know can’t handle his allure.  I don’t share him with people who aren’t ready to unlock when they’re not under his or any of his lesser cousins’ influence.  I told you I could be a condescending blonde at times.  I can be pushy and sneaky too.  Glen didn’t tell anyone when my batteries ran out and I stole one from the television remote and forgot to replace it.

Glenlivet keeps really good secrets.  It’s me that shares them.

 

 

 

 

The Vagina Dialogues….You Vote


I was having a highly evolved discussion last night with a friend about all things haughty, you know, Georgie O’Keefe flower paintings vs the West paintings,  how the Higgs-Boson discovery will affect the future, North Korea’s nuclear antics, how Hollywood acts like they can take the truth, but really they can’t and then thanks to relaxation, we devolved….into discussions about SpongeBob which lead to gay lifestyles vs hetero lifestyles which lead to reality shows which lead to Honey Boo Boo…yeah, seriously.  He  we couldn’t stop laughing!

For those of you who know what I’m talking about it should be easy to vote.  For those of you who don’t, well….I can’t bring myself to enlighten you.  Just reread the title of today’s blog and choose which image best fits the subject.  I’ll let you in on in a hint.  I started the Georgia O’Keefe discussion, my friend chose the Honey Boo Boo route.  Which then lead to talk of honey and biscuits, gravy and biscuits and more sophomoric silliness!   Sheesh, maybe I should critique him on Lulu.  (do you know about this ridiculousness?)  ahhaaha!

 

A Hardee's Biscuit

A Hardee’s Biscuit

It’s called a biscuit because it looks like a Hardee’s biscuit when its done right and it opens up.  – Mama June on Honey Boo Boo explaining a nickname for her private part

Blue Flower, 1918

Georgia O’Keeffe consistently battled against the Freudian interpretations of her flower series. Alike to macro-photography, these paintings glanced deep into the exquisite crevices of orchids and calla lilies, dove inside along the sensuously open petals… wait, stop, sorry, sorry! They’re JUST FLOWERS!

I vote for Georgia’s image.  How about you?

 

Hipsters.


The latest conversation/debate in my home has been about hipsters. Someone called my daughter one which made her rage inconsolably. I swear, her actions made me think “hipster” was a new form of “cracker” or that 4 letter word dubious men call women that begins with a “C” (I HATE that word) So the enlightenment (for me) began:

Daughter: Can you believe he called me a Hipster? OMG Mom! He’s supposed to be my boyfriend.

ME: Why is it so bad?

Daughter: Because Mom, hipsters are HORRIBLE! They’re egomaniacs. They think they know more about books, movies, and music than anyone else. They like obscure bands that suck, but they make big deals over them.  They’re like professors who dropped out of high school. They’re fakers. They’re posers. They’re HORRIBLE! They act like they don’t dress like everyone else then they all dress alike: beanies, sunglasses indoors, shorts, black leather, Skinny jeans, and facial hair.

ME: They sound insecure.

Daughter: Exactly! But in a way they think is “cool”. They have no ambition, usually live with their parents into their late 30’s and gripe about the state of our culture but never do a thing about it. I will NEVER be a Hipster! They don’t want to do anything but complain.

ME: (worrying now that the last man she was involved with fits her daughter’s definition of “hipster” and suddenly feeling even more stupid) Well why did he call you one? Were you complaining about something? You don’t have facial hair. You don’t have a beanie. You don’t wear sunglasses indoors.

Daughter: Because I was wearing Tom’s shoes and had my hair up in braids.

ME: Well I would call that more “hippie” than hipster. But seriously, why all the labels?

Daughter: Come on Mom, you’re the one who told me people make judgements about each other all the time but say “don’t judge me” just to feel self-important. Right?

ME: (sheepishly) Right. But I also said labels are ways for teens and often times adults to feel like they “fit in”. Maybe he’s just deciding whether or not he fits with you or you fit with him. The thing is, don’t resort to using labels. It’s like calling names when you’re a little kid.

Daughter: You’re right, but he can be such a Guido/Cholo at times!

ME: Shaking my head as I walk away with the sinking feeling of parenting failure once again and realizing that last guy I cared about really WAS a Hipster.  OMG!