From the roommate chronicles

One periodic addendum I'll be making to this blog -- in true exploratory blog writing fashion -- will be the inclusion of quotes and entries from outside sources.

This little gem below came from my roommate.  We maintain a regular discourse about the gentlemen we entertain and in a recent email exchange she retorted with the following:

Remember that game where you held a fishing pole with a magnet on the end and you tried to grab fish out of the circle as they moved around and open and shut their jaw?  dating in this city is 1000x hard than that.  no one wants to open their mouth unless it's to be filled with pussy.

To the Bang Up Job

A bit of background before I tell this story.  I've been hung up on the same guy for a while.  A long while.  So on this particular evening I was really looking to give the middle finger, so to speak, to this guy to prove to him (and myself, of course) that "I do what I want!"  "I'll make out with whomever I want!"  "You are an idiot for not being with me."   


Aaron and I run in somewhat concentric professional circles.  We bump into each other frequently enough to remember where the other worked when we last spoke, but not enough to remember where the other went to college.  He is younger than I am by just two years, but the kid looks like he's about 16.  He always sports a Plebeian beanie atop his head and makes one wonder if he ever even graduated high school.  But the boyish look really works for him -- impish without any legitimate threat.  His rosy cheeks, bright smile, and wide eyes make a great combination that quickly draws me in but then immediately makes me feel naughty for being attracted to it.

We recently ran into each other at an early show.  Hugs, big smiles on both ends, mild catching up, passive watching of the band intermittently interrupted by work emails on our respective mobile devices, and then I said goodbye.  Always good to see him, but I had a business meeting to get to.

Though apparently I wasn't clear about my later plans because about two hours later I received the follow text from Aaron:

"how is your date? do i need to rescue you?"

To the men who...

After months of careful consideration and much needed encouragement from friends, I have chosen to render the myriad of seemingly endless scenarios in which I find myself into some (hopefully) cohesive collection.


These thoughts and experiences will be personal.  They will provoke an excruciating exploration into what it means and feels like to be a woman in a treacherous landscape of dating, love, and sex.  They will also forcibly create an extensive excavation of my experiences with men: some times I will find elusive treasure; some times I will find remnants of vivacious lives, once lived with passion and adventure; some times I will search endlessly with hope, only to have my efforts be fruitless; and still other times I will find crap -- totally, utterly useless crap.



This blog is about The Men Who...

To the men who excite, arouse, infuriate, tempt, challenge, kiss, debate, entice, lure, love, and irk me...
To the men who I've loved, befriended, hated, fucked, made love to, flirted with, satiated physically, satiated emotionally, cared for, and pined after...
To the jerks, heathens, deadbeats, mamas' boys, douches, nice guys, academics, intellectuals, sons of bitches, elitists, and to "the perfect guys"...
To all the men I've been snarky to... (yes, this one deserves its own line)

To all the men that have meant very little or the entire world to me -- in one way or another, this blog is about you.  You are the demons of the mind and heart that plague me, but that also -- according to what will fill these infinite web pages -- provide excellent reading material.

I hope that this journey I've chosen to embark on will at the very least provide some enjoyment for those who chose to come along with me

always,
rogue