Nem's Men

(It's a palendrome, in case I need to point out to you how clever I am. On Saturday, El Senor and I were looking at lighting fixtures. There was this racecar light fixture and an airplane light fixture. El Senor said to me, "Do you know what racecar is spelled backwards? ---Racecar." I looked at the airplane and said, "Do you know what airplane is spelled backwards?" El Senor said, "Enalpria.")

This weekend I had the occasion to have two slumber parties with Nemesis, whereat we tickled each other, braided each other's hair, and told each other our deepest, secretest secrets. Saturday night, I had already invited our friend Kit over for crepes (pronounced CRAYPES) and Nemesis and I were already planning to hit a matinee on Saturday, so I decided to invite Nem down for crepes and a sleepover. Then Saturday after our matinee, we went down to visit the Daltonclan, not only to see the chicks and share a chicken-free meal, but also to be gay. (While we were there, we saw a copy of some ancient manner book for teens wherein we read that guests are not invited over to eat food, they're invited over to be gay.) On the whole, it was a wonderful weekend that kindof made me feel like I was back on my mission because I had a companion, but kindof didn't make me feel like I was on a mission because of Nem's men, who were basically the whole point of the weekend. (Unless, of course, you count getting together at Daltongirl's house as the whole "point" of the weekend, which basically it was and all other activities were planned around that point, but the point of this post is Nem's men.)

Let's be honest. Sometimes I look at me and Nem and I wonder why we're both still single (however, as gay as we are when we get together at Daltongirl's house, I think that we're both still looking for men). Then I spend a weekend with her and Mr. Rochester and Mr. Wilberforce, and I realize that we're both single because no men actually compare to the Mr. Rochesters and the Mr. Wilberforces. And the Mr. Darcys and the Col. Brandons, and the Mr. Knightleys. And as long as we keep watching and reading men written by women (with the fine exception of Mr. Wilberforce) then we'll never make any real progress in our love lives.

I think that we can remedy this, however. I recorded The Sixth Day, an Arnold Schwarzenegger film, this weekend. It's a movie about a man, written by a man/men. And I lent Nemesis the book Eve's Apple, which is about a man, written by a man. I think that coming to love male characters created by men will help us develop more realistic expectations for our lives. And if I spend enough time at the gym, I may just happen to find my own Arnold. One can dream.


Nemesis said...

And as long as we keep watching and reading men written by women . . . then we'll never make any real progress in our love lives.

Enh. Progress is overrated. Also, if I cut out my steady diet of men-written-by-women then what would I have left, huh? Short blond stalkers, that's what I would have. And not even that because my stalker has found a girlfriend.

christovich79 said...

I cannot sit and believe that you would settle for anyone less than Mr. Darcy. Goodness gracious!

Red Soul said...

this blog is awesome. :)