Tuesday, April 10, 2012

yes

Craig Santos Perez sees the best minds of his generation destroyed by Facebook and he's quite right. Many of us have become incredibly boring. When I say many, I include myself. I am now very boring. I felt it coming on a couple years ago. I tried to fight it. Boringness won.

You know what? I'm sort of happier. I sleep better. It's been over two years since I've dreamed of being served a bloodied flacid penis in my spaghetti. I don't mean to brag, but generally, my dream-time penises have been waaaay less creepy. I suppose I can't blame all my dreamtime pecker woes on blogging and worry about pobiz. It's probably only around 90%. The other 10% is dealing with fiction writers.

It's certainly not all roses at FB. At this date, I recorded 47 FB dreams and they aren't roses and moonlight. Most of them involve looking like an asshole on FB. Often me looking like an asshole. FB brings a level of high school anxiety. Why did the editor of an anthology where my work appeared not accept my friend request? Did so and so really mean to unfriend me? Was it personal or a general culling? Am I annoying? Why did three family members unfriended me? Why won't my cousin accept my friend request? Are they all talking about me? Are they jealous because I'm so very cute? Am I better off without them?

Answer to all questions: Yes. Even the "why" questions. Especially the why questions. Why? Because YES.

It can kind of drive you nuts, if you let it. So I do these mental exercises where I try to drive away the petty anxiety and leave room for the real problems I should be shitting myself over. Like that squirrel tail I found yesterday while cleaning leaves and brush in the front yard. Where's the rest of the squirrel?

YES.

Anyhow. I saw the link to Craig's post on FB. I "liked" it, but I didn't "share" it because that was too much of a commitment. I might tweet it. But I need to think more on it. If I do tweet it, should I tweet it using the official No Tell Books or my personal account? I am on sabbatical and I don't want to give people the wrong idea that I'm willing to be engaged on pobiz matters. These are subtle, tricky waters to navigate and it's so very easy to unintentionally give mixed signals.

I shall not encourage pobiz.

FUN FACT: The two most common search phrases that bring people to this blog: "metal mouth james bond" and "andre the giant daughter"

I didn't know Andre the Giant had a daughter.


My boring blog doesn't mean I don't ever have interesting ideas. I think I still have a few.

For instance, after reading Elisa Gabbert's December perfume column at Open Letters Monthly, I'd been meaning to respond. In fact, not a week goes by where I don't think about giving Elisa a piece of my mind and publicly accuse her of smoking potpourried crack for writing "It manages to smell both grown-up and girlish, such that you can imagine a mother and daughter happily sharing a bottle." about Diane von Furstenberg's Diane. I had a response that was something like, "after smelling DVF's Diane I longed for the days when G was in diapers because a baby's ass is the only appropriate recipient of that powdery stench." Then I'd make some cheap dig on Elisa's MFA because, why not?

YES.


That's interesting, right?

YES.

Baby's asses and MFAs are classic blog gold.


But is it really worth it to start a blog blood feud over DVF's latest shitty scent? A few years ago I would have said YES! Now I'm feeling very ~~~~meh.


Is anyone, aside from Elisa, interested in hearing about my most recent perfume acquisitions? (Note to Elisa: sorry for all the name dropping, but you're one of the few still interesting and relevant poetry bloggers in existence, I gotta milk our association for all it's worth. It's because you're not on FB. It's your superhero power. It's why I'm targeting you.)

Caudalie Fleur de Vigne: I love this! I bought it last week in Paris and it was way cheaper over there. But the scent doesn't last. How can I make it last? Should I mix in some olive oil?
Betsy Johnson Too Too: Supposedly this one of those young lady perfumes that I'm too old for.
Privet Bloom Eau de Parfum: This is a spring/summer scent. My winter scent is Benefit So Hooked On Carmella. I'm a bit turned off by the Hamptons marketing.
Vera Wang: Why do they market this scent for brides? I get that Vera Wang is known for wedding dresses, but you're only a bride for a day (or several). Wouldn't marketing it as "the scent to get a husband" or "keep a husband" make better business sense?
A bunch of the Toccas: I got two gift collections for Christmas. My favorite is Cleopatra. When I want to smell like a pleasant old lady (about twice a month), I go for Florence.
Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Jasminora: This makes me feel fancy.

There's more, but those are the highlights.

Am I completely irrelevant?

YES.


As for G, now that he's a grown ass man of 7, I have to be more respectful of his privacy. Last summer he laid down some ground rules. I am never to use his full first name anywhere online (blog, FB, Twitter, etc.) without his permission. But I am allowed to refer to him as G whenever I want without having to ask permission. Pictures are OK too. I think because G understands how incredibly good looking he is and that's something that should be shared with all the world.

So I leave you with two pictures from last week. We were in Paris. G's old man and my ball/chain, C, was in Europe for two weeks on work, so we decided to meet up with C during G's spring break.






A rose is a G***** is a G*****.

11 comments:

  1. I like it (in the archaic sense) AND I tweeted it.

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  2. Now I'm stressing. Do I respond to this comment via the blog, like olden times. Or on Twitter? Or both? Do I make a snarky comment on FB that you won't see, but surely will eventually hear about?

    YES.

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  3. Oh God, I still love you. And this post? LOVE it.

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  4. C. Dale, you're also one of the few remaining relevant poetry bloggers. I should have called you out too. My apologies for the oversight. It it means anything, I dreamed of you the other day. A symphony was playing. You were sitting in front of me. I was cuddling up next to a boy who I later discovered to be only 14 years old (!!!) - a bunch of drama ensued when that info came to light. But before all that nonsense, while the symphony was playing -- you jumped up. You were covered in shimmering body paint and you joined in the performance with a violin. I turned to my underage paramour and said, "That C. Dale is amazing. He's a poet, violinist and an oncologist."

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  5. Ah-hahahahahahahaha! I bet it was Jacob playing the violin. He plays violin and also likes body paint... I still think we need to meet up in Vegas or Reno for a weekend of gambling and debauchery.

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    Replies
    1. I was in Vegas last month for my sister-in-law's wedding. But I was with family and I remembered your rule about it being JUST ME.

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  6. Reb, why do you never tell me about the dreams that feature me!

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  7. Elisa, the last dream I recorded with you was on SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2011. We were discussing (with 2 NYC poets) NYC rents and cost of living. Um . . . you were very knowledgeable. But you weren't nekkid covered in body paint and you did not play any instruments or sing and I'm pretty sure you were of a legal age. Sorry. Next time try harder to be dream spectacular.

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    Replies
    1. Yeah, that's pretty weak. My dream self is a snooze. She's probably on Facebook.

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  8. It is all due to the Dark Lords.
    xor

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  9. Facebook has been an education.

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