The Return of the Klonopin Junkie

January 15, 2016January 15, 2016 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

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My response to a recent article on a study that showed the resilience of twins who had suffered trauma. Perhaps you’ll understand why I wasn’t impressed by the study upon reading it (link and comment below).

http://www.psypost.org/2016/01/people-bounce-back-after-traumatic-experiences-twin-study-says-40231

This is a misleading article title as the author notes the major weaknesses of the study. I was physically and emotionally abused and neglected as a child. Five-plus years of weekly therapy (2010-14) and powerful antidepressant and anxiety meds, though certainly helpful (the meds, for a few years but now don’t help; in the process of weaning off them; difficult), hasn’t rid me of the traumatic memories and the frustrating and useless bouts of anger and irrational behavior (verbally lashing out at abuser).

I’m reading a book that’s making a lot of sense to me, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma, by Bessel Van Der Kolk, M.D. I should add that since childhood I have developed several auto-immune disorders–ezcema, allergies, hyper- and hypothyroidism, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Sjogren’s Syndrome, as well as being diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Chronic Suicidal Ideation. What all of these illnesses have in common? Chronic inflammation as a major cause. And what’s a major cause of chronic inflammation? Chronic stress, something I’ve lived with my entire life.

Do I think my childhood trauma is behind these health issues? Yes. I suffer from PTSD, not the mental disorders listed above. And the very activities I’ve been drawn to from childhood to now–acting, writing, dance, yoga, meditation, a vegan lifestyle (before drug weaning I doubled my dark, leafy greens intake after reading about certain foods positive effect on mood and mine vastly improved within 24 hours which means the drugs had me baseline functioning in life)–all of which made me flourish and played a part in the happiest times of my life, were and continue to be looked down upon by already unsupportive family members.

I’m not eschewing all Western medicine but I’ve grown wary of what are now called “psychopharmacologists,” shrinks who write scripts for powerful, dangerous (in regards to side effects on them and through weaning process), ineffective drugs to millions of people, many of whom have suffered trauma that don’t heal through mainstream APA methods (that make the APA and BigPharma very wealthy, coincidentally). I highly recommend Van Der Kolk’s book for anyone who’s suffered trauma and struggling to maintain a semblance of a healthy, vibrant life.

CAN WE TAWKIFY? WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DATE MAKES

October 2, 2015October 2, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ 8 Comments

It’s Thursday, two days before my second “first date” and I’m in a foul mood. My mind’s replaying the awful first “first date” with the pretentious professor and HISTORIAN who doesn’t like cats, casts lines with baited hooks of information I’m supposed to latch onto for more (insensitive and offensive metaphor and game-playing), and is only too happy to split a $20 check. As my friend and dating mentor, Renny, says, “That’s just tacky.”

The more I think about that date the more convinced I am that Bachelor #2, who sounds as perfect for me as Bachelor #1, is a dud, another typical DC male who gets a hard on comparing Ivy League schools and stacks of degrees; basically human kryptonite that sucks any excitement or optimism out of me, leaving me weak from hunger (for real conversation and some goddamn dinner) and a tension headache.

Whew, am I in a bad mood, one that turns tar-like so I feel stuck in it with little chance of rescue. Such is the life of a 40+ divorced woman with a penchant for glomming onto black thoughts, my brain having its way with them. Plus I’m pissed ’cause the date “mission” calls for wearing a classy evening outfit. My last classy evening outfit was my wedding gown, so I’m scouring Macy’s, ModCloth’s and Amazon’s online “classy evening outfit” possibilities, resentment growing by the hour as I shop for clothes just sitting on my sofa.

I have a date outfit, I grumble, as I take another turn around online stores, each outfit I like sold out. Only after I pay far too much for a dress–for a movie and drinks; this isn’t the 50’s–do I mention the “classy evening outfit” stress to my matchmaker, R, who says, “Oh, I just meant wear something you feel confident and comfortable in!” Just call my studio Bleak House at this point.

It arrives in time and I slide it on after showering. Easily slide it on as it’s too big and long, the pretty eyelet skirt dragging on the floor. Harumph. The anger tank’s dry by now so I sigh…and remember the knee-length sleeveless lined crochet dress hanging in the hall closet. My seamless panties are clean and the same accessories work. After FOUR attempts–the dress lining is a solid tank–the blasted thing’s on right. Laughter replaces the sighs and I remind myself to never buy clothing without zippers or buttons again. It’s an RA thing.

By now any expectations about this date have gone the way of the dodo. My only fear is of being late, but I always fear this. Fear is an asshole because even though I’m directionally challenged downtown I arrive at our meeting place, the cinema, thirty minutes early. Hey, look, a Barnes & Noble! I’m carrying a microscopic purse as opposed to the usual huge tote bag (with matching purse inside) that holds my current read, magazines, journal and/or laptop, and now I wish I’d brought it ’cause I need something to read. So off I go in search of the latest Vegan Health & Fitness issue (score!), then grab a copy of The Martian based on a friend’s recommendation before I can talk myself out of buying a new book. Thanks, Steph–it’s good!

Of course, moments after returning to the cinema he walks up to me. “He” being the kind, funny, smart, talented, cute, warm, gentle, cat-loving, caring, strong, confident, compassionate and passionate man with whom I have a third date this Saturday. You know that picture you carry in your mind of the “ideal” man or woman for you?

Of course they look like models with their perfect hair, smile, and body. We’re drowning in these images, countless examples of what women and men are supposed to be, courtesy of Madison Avenue. Even my “Love” board on Pinterest is populated with gorgeous photos of culturally-sanctioned gorgeous couples eating by candlelight, canoeing, or canoodling in gorgeous ways. Look up “Love” if you’re on Pinterest (you’re not on Pinterest???). You’ll see.’Cause who wants to look at pictures of “average” couples in love, falling in love, in love for decades, and how that love radiates from within, that lovely glow?

I do. And there’s nothing average about the two of us together.

YOU DON’T HAVE THE GUTS TO WATCH IT, DO YOU?

September 30, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

http://10billionlives.com/Facebook

I made myself watch it, not for a chance to win tickets. I don’t care about that. I watched it to bear witness to the atrocities billions of animals endure, as penance for the years I didn’t know or think about them, and to motivate me to continue my mission, always, as an animal advocate, a peace advocate. I bawled, scaring Ziggy lying next to me. Please take 4 minutes out of your day to watch what so many won’t. They’ll contribute to it but not watch it. It’s the absolute least you can do for these animals.

“NOSE TO TAIL PALEO DINNER’S READY! GET YOUR OFFAL AND UNDER-UTILISED CUTS OF BEEF HERE!”

September 30, 2015September 30, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

Definition of Asana: any of various yogic postures; Sanskrit āsana manner of sitting, from āste he sits; akin to Greek hēsthai to sit, Hittite es-. First Known Use: circa 1934 (www.miriam-webster.com/dictionary/asana)

“We are super pleased to announce our next nose to tail paleo dinner at our paleo restaurant “Asana by Pete Evans” in Brisbane for the 10th November is on sale now. The last one sold out very quickly so jump onto http://www.trybooking.com/160577 to grab your tix.

This time we are featuring Cleavers organic grass fed and finished beef. Exec chef Josh Harris and I are creating another exciting menu featuring offal and under-utilised cuts of beef that will be sure to please and our wonderful chefs Monica and Jacinta Cannataci will be whipping up another memorable paleo dessert.
Love to see you there.” (bold is my addition; Pete Evans’ Facebook page/post)

Don’t you love how he substitutes “slaughtered” with “finished” beef? It takes an Australian-sized amount of cognitive dissonance to further the “Humanely Raised” lies that are gaining popularity (I’m talking to you, Whole Foods!) with omnivores needing “reassurance” that eating genetically manipulated, abused, raped, confined, sodomized, mutilated, terrified animals who suffer the loss of their children, suffer every unnaturally shortened day of their lives and shoddy slaughter isn’t immoral and unethical. And an Australian-sized asshole to name his restaurant “Asana.” (I’m talking to you, Pete Evans, but I wish you peace. Goodness knows you need it.) You know what’s coming–he wrote an article for MindBodyGreen about the paleo diet being “right” for him, and I left a comment (link to article below):

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-21718/pete-evans-why-paleo-is-still-right-for-me.html

As “right” as you think a “Paleo” diet is for you, (there isn’t one Paleo diet; it depended on where Paleolithic humans lived and many were nomadic so their diets changed constantly; also, there were only about a million living on Earth at the time; Earth and billions of innocent animals are suffering from human overpopulation now) what you eat has far-reaching consequences.

There’s no such thing as “humanely” slaughtered meat (look up the definition of “slaughter”), about 99% of “food” animals in the US are “raised” and slaughtered on factory farms, it still takes far more precious resources to raise your “humane” animals than it does to grow organic plant foods, it’s unsustainable, unhealthy (all animal protein has saturated fats and cholesterol, not to mention the urea–cell waste that’s meant to be excreted during urination–that covers animal flesh as he/she is slaughtered and, in part, “adds” to the pleasant taste for omnivores, and whatever else comes in contact with it as it makes its way to your market), it’s not just about you (the “I/It” over the “I/Thou” mentality is linked to racism, slavery, sexism, poverty, starvation, mental illness, homelessness, incarceration, elitism, what we call capitalism today, war, and the human-caused destruction of and unimaginable violence against the planet and our fellow non-human animal inhabitants), and is unethical and immoral.

‘CAUSE I’M ENFP, I’M DYNAMITE”

September 8, 2015September 8, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

I couldn’t decide which one I liked best (common for ENFPs) so I posted all of them. They’re all true and, well, The Little Mermaid’s my favorite Disney animated film. And it works because in the animal world ENFPs are dolphins and mermaids, while not real (well, the jury’s still out according to my lease manager who watches some mermaid show), are also excellent swimmers who speak their own language. Way out of your league. Like 20,000 leagues.

Don’t Date An ENFP

“YOU SHOULD DATE A GIRL WHO READS”

September 7, 2015September 8, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ 1 Comment

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

― Rosemarie Urquico

(https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/437516-you-should-date-a-girl-who-reads-date-a-girl)

CAN WE TAWKIFY? IT’S RAINING MEN WAS IN A “CONE OF UNCERTAINTY” THAT ALL CAME TO NOTHING

September 6, 2015September 7, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

Did you see that on weather.com? Erika, a recent “hurricane to be,” was in a “Cone of Uncertainty.” Have you heard of a more ridiculous way of saying, “We’ve no idea what she’s gonna do?” I wrote it down in my journal so I wouldn’t forget it (how could you forget that?) ’cause I knew I’d use it in a blog post someday. And that day’s today!

Why raining men? Well, R, my matchmaker, thought she’d found a real winner for me. Then I heard from the guy in Bangkok. Tweets are exchanged: yes, I worried when I heard about the bombing, I’m fine, you look happy and healthy, indeed, I do think of you, let’s Skype, yes, let’s. Then a vegan guy in my vegan meet up group who’s local (obviously), VEGAN (ditto), into advocacy, runs marathons (it’s a thing I have), enjoys YOGA, very attractive (another thing I have), and the piece de resistance…French (not really a thing but a cool twist), reached out to me about helping him with a first draft of his second short film and offering his help with my long-ago shelved documentary.

It’s raining men, right?

Wrong-o. The real winner got cold feet about the whole matchmaker thing. The guy in Bangkok and I haven’t Skyped and won’t Skype. The hot French, vegan, local, running, yoga-practicing guy? Girlfriend, consultant constantly on the move, and girlfriend. Now we’ve entered what we in the dating world call the “cone of dying alone.”

OK, it wasn’t the end of the world, but tell that to my hair-brained, uh, brain on meds that are obviously nothing more than sugar pills ’cause down the well I fell. Not the best time to email friend or foe so of course I wrote my matchmaker:

Hey R,

Hope you’re enjoying this holiday weekend. I woke up too early again this morning but journaled, made my “want to” list, tea yoga’d (waiting for my tea to steep), and completed Day 14’s 135 squats in my third such 30-Day Challenge (this one with plank challenge too; 90 seconds today–yikes!). Dishwasher’s running, Ziggy threw up for some reason (he’s not a thrower-upper), and breakfast needs to happen soon 😉

I don’t know how many guys you’ve talked to since the “backer-outer” (can you tell I watched a lot of Seinfeld?), or if you’ve talked to any. Half of me is perfectly fine with it as I don’t have any expectations or confidence in meeting “a one” or “the one” here in DC. I love living here but have found a distinct lack in substance or authenticity in DC men. No amount of good looks, degrees, or expensive tailored suits can remedy that.

I find them lazy (at relationships), predictable, and dull. There’s no passion emanating from them, or even in couples I see each day. I spent 13 years with a man who stared at a TV or iPhone screen more than he did me. People spend an inordinate amount of time doing that here. I’m not the least bit interested in that.

So no worries if you don’t find me a match. I’ve gone so long without a man in my life; perhaps the universe is telling me something and I’m just now listening to it.

Peace \/

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Pretty pitiful, right? But wait–there’s more!

Oh, I said, “half of me,” didn’t I? Apologies. I grew sleepy as I typed 😉 The other half, well, I don’t think there’s another half. I know you’re supposed to work diligently at picking the best possible matches, but you needn’t bother in my case. I’m way too good for the men in this town. I don’t think you’d find anyone who comes close to wanting the deep, meaningful relationship I long for. Or did. I know, keep an open mind, 43YOV. Just have fun with it. And I will. I’ll be myself, and I’m pretty terrific, and I’ll never hear from them again. 😉 Yes, I go forward with what I’ve learned from Bachelor #1!

There’s plenty in this world that scares me but I’m no coward. And it’s people who scare me the most. People think of DC as a very liberal town; they may vote blue, but they rarely take a stand for anything. This secular calling of mine to get religious leaders to rethink what unconditional love, compassion, and mercy really mean and how they cherry pick who’s worthy of it? If there is a G-d, He’d be appalled by this cowardly, lackadaisical, half-assed interpretation of His gospel. I have a Presbyterian minister so afraid to talk to me in person he lies about offering just that–if I wanted to hear what some of his convictions were and how they at times made their way into his job mission he’d be happy to tell me in person–when I have every email the man and I have exchanged. And when I show him where he stated it, he reinterprets his own writing to squirm out of it yet again.

Obviously, I expected resistance, but this “worthy of a politician” schtick of his does little to strengthen any respect I had for him. And he’s one of four leaders of a 1500+ member Protestant church. He actually admitted that his was a church that took few positions on “issues” like his or mine (creating a faith embracing all creatures): climate change, mental illness, human trafficking, gun violence, “issues” strongly linked to each other. I mean, violence begets violence. I’m not part of a big animal rights/vegan organization who’s got my back. I jumped into this monumental task alone and this doctor of divinity is afraid of me! Christianity may have a stronghold on this country–persecuted, my ass–but it hasn’t a leg to stand on if you dust off the stained glass.

I’m afraid I took a left turn somewhere but I was trying to make a point. If religious leaders in this town won’t teach their congregants to stand against injustice, how many male Tawkify clients will? I think this was what my friend, L, meant when she said I needed a vegan partner. That and being an advocate are a big part of who I am. I’m willing to remain open-minded about meeting non-vegans but it’s often the latter who don’t want to date a vegan.

Are you calling your boss to find a replacement matchmaker for me? LOL. I wouldn’t blame you. I had to get this off my chest come what may 😉 Good luck with me!

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It’s at this point I believed I may have indeed gone mad. I was going to Google “madness definition” but got sidetracked by a reply from R:

43YOV!! No! Haha. I love working with you. I’m not going to find a replacement matchmaker unless of course you request one, in which case I will totally respect your decision. I know that it’s easy to get discouraged on a day to day basis particularly with the dating landscape of DC. The funny thing is, I have several clients there and they all say the same thing–that a lot of people get focused on where you went to school, status, that sort of thing, and get locked into repeating patterns. I think also that although D.C. thinks of itself as very liberal–there is much of it that is buttoned up and conservative or more to the middle than it would like to believe. This is of course challenging, but nothing is impossible. I know you’re keeping an open mind–so definitely keep that up! It’s the toughest thing to ride the balance between thinking of possibilities in the world without getting too focused or hung up on a certain set of ideals. You’ve got this though! 🙂

I screened another guy last week who I thought to be a great possibility but ruled him out because although he respects vegan lifestyles, he grew up with his dad teaching him about guns, and has some as family heirlooms, and doesn’t rule out the possibility of using them for hunting later on, and I don’t think you two will mesh well based on that.

I did, however screen a guy yesterday who I’m vibing pretty well with who I think could be a great possibility for your next date. Let’s have a call soon and I’ll tell you about him. 🙂

D.C. may be particularly tough for dating, but I also think much of the world is tough, particularly if you’re a strong, capable woman who knows what you want in life. That is certainly intimidating for a lot of men, and it’s a tough thing to contend with, going out there and dating. I think a big challenge is knowing how to be confident in that while also giving someone else room to be themselves too, and letting them teach you something about life or about yourself as you do the same with them, whether or not they realize it!

We’re going to see a movie today I’m really excited about, it’s inspired by the book the Prophet by Khalil Gibran. Have you read it? Let’s discuss next time I talk to you. I have to go now and have a shower and get ready for the movie–my mother is really excited about it too.

I’ve also been brainstorming what would be a good match for you because you’re so much like me–but the men I tend to be the most crazy about are nothing like me. I seek out friends who are like me, but lovers are different from me. This may or may not apply to you at all, but it’s certainly food for thought.

We shall talk soon.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwQbMxDcRGE

-R

Before I wrote this poor girl one last time, the well of despair deepened to the point where I texted my poor mother this:

Bad depression strikes again. I’m fighting it but I’m so tired. No one’s ever going to love me and want to be with me again. I’m going to spend the rest of my life alone. All this love in my my heart wasted. I love you. Don’t call but don’t worry, I’m not going to off myself. Love you muchly.

Of course she texted me and as soon as I read it (dismissing her well-meant but never going to happen suggestion I get a roommate), my feet left the well floor and I began ascending to an “I’m definitely not going to off myself; in fact, the love for my mother’s warming my heart right up there, but let me just write this last email” frame of mind:

Thank goodness you laughed. I can’t believe I sent you those emails! I thought I must’ve gone mad. And bringing up my AR and Christianity “project” and that Reverend–ugh–just cementing my issues with religion, him being so resistant to change, not wanting to upset the status quo. I think it upsets me so because I spent much of my life silent and scared, too, and it hits me that I’m probably not going to change a damn thing; and yet I can’t give up.

And that’s pretty much how I feel about dating. It’s so frustrating that something that I never worried about–finding a guy who liked me–worries the hell out of me now. I’m not 25 and life speeds by so quickly and I’ve been alone, lonely, for such a long time. Then I move to the worst dating city in the US knowing deep down, like you wrote, that this place is swarming with a much more conservative populace–and they’re not aware enough to see it! I’m never going to find love in this town.

I throw out all these traits I think I want in a man but what do I know? I’ve had two serious relationships. What did they see in me that nobody else has? Have I really changed at all? And now I’m overthinking everything and I’m miserable and it’s not going to happen here and I’m looking at books with titles like, How To Be Alone and Solitude and pinning knitting patterns; plus start attending this church to covertly spread the true Christian message to 1500 rich nitwits–me, a Bible-bashing agnostic vegan peacenik agitator who gets this zany idea from reading a couple books and now thinks a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

Anyway, if you think this guy’s Bachelor #2 just call me to tell me where and when. I’ve a new outfit ready and waiting and I’ll be on my best first date behavior (but I’m not touching the bill). 😉

I’ve heard great things about Khalil Gibran. The animation’s lovely. I hope you and your mom loved it. Maybe that should be my next date idea, seeing a movie together. I can’t talk too much, I can see if we laugh at the same scenes, we’re side by side which is where I’d want a guy anyway. Sitting across from each other as strangers and it’s like a debate or competition. Maybe it’s not good to see too much of the other first thing. Maybe checking out one side is better, less stressful, less to process or label or assume, which leaves a little mystery for the so far elusive second date.

Just throwing it out there…sometimes old school works. LOL.

Peace, R \/

Lots of laughter, yeah, right, but I wrote 2216 words today. 2216.

NO MORE “I LOVE YOU’S”

September 5, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

“I used to be a lunatic from the gracious days
I used to feel woebegone and so restless nights
My aching heart would bleed for you to see
Oh, but now
I don’t find myself bouncing home
Whistling buttonhole tunes to make me cry

No more I love you’s
The language is leaving me
No more I love you’s
Changes are shifting
Outside the words”

“THEY CALL IT EUTHANASIA”

September 3, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ Leave a comment

“Piglets that don’t grow fast enough -the runts- are a drain on resources and so have no place on the farm. Picked up by their hind legs they are swung and then bashed headfirst onto the concrete floor. This common practice is called ‘thumping.’ ‘We’ve thumped as many as 120 in one day,’ said a worker from a Missouri farm. ‘We just swing them, thump them, toss them aside. Then, after you’ve thumped ten, twelve, fourteen of them, you take them to the chute room and stack them for the dead truck. And if you go in the chute room and some are still alive, then you have to thump them all over again. There’ve been times I’ve walked in that room and they’d be running around with an eye-ball hanging down the side of their face, just bleeding like crazy, or their jaw would be broken.’ ‘They call it euthanasia’ said the Missouri worker’s wife.” (From the book Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer)

Photo – MFA

http://www.govegan.org.uk/

CAN WE TAWKIFY: DEAL BREAKERS

August 25, 2015August 26, 2015 ~ l1brarygrl ~ 2 Comments

MULL IT OVER MONDAY
Deal Breakers vs. Deal Makers

Deal Breaker: expecting to be treated on the first date.

Deal Maker: going dutch on the first date. it levels the platform and praises independence on both ends.

Soo generous gents and lavish ladies, what are your deal breakers/deal makers? (Tawkify Facebook post/photo)

My comment:

I disagree. The guy chose 8PM on a Wednesday night. Subtle. Then I offer, as always, to split the check. This is when every other man I’ve been on a first date with has said, “No, I’ve got it.” This guy says, “Sure.” A check for two drinks. I’m a feminist and independent but it’s called a first DATE for a reason, not first “leveling the platform and praising independence on both ends.” Men have it too easy already with 20 million more single women to choose from; now I have to assert my independence not only by being myself (highly daring on a first date) but splitting the bill. I don’t think so.

Those weren’t even my original deal breakers: smoking, older than 50, and not liking cats. Which he didn’t, by the way. Like cats. “I don’t like cats.” Pretty emphatic. My wonderful matchmaker assumed he loved all animals because he talked about how he loved his dog. She’s 25. She learned a lesson. Lots of men don’t like cats. It’s a big deal so I shared my thoughts on the subject. Cats are smart (or at least clever), independent, low-maintenance, don’t always (ever) run to you when you call their names, and will let you know when they do and don’t want affection. Dogs aren’t that bright, need lots of training and baths, lavish you with whiny, sloppy kisses, need to pee and poop when it’s hot, freezing, snowing, raining, and 3AM (meaning you’re going out when it’s hot, freezing, snowing, raining, and 3AM). High-maintenance.

Many of the guy friends I had during my marriage liked and had cats. They also were married to strong, independent, smart, beautiful women. These guys loved their wives and cats because of these very traits. These were pretty rugged men–loved to camp and hike and ski fast in the Rocky Mountains on male bonding trips. Of course they asked their wives, who seemed glad to have some “me” time to look forward to themselves.

Sound reasonable? I think so. Oh, and he never once mentioned his wonderful dog to me. The “I don’t like cats” statement was made about five minutes after sitting down in the bar for our–surprise!–“Dutch treat.” I could go on about how he kept mentioning he was an historian (one of several “hooks” he told R he threw out for me to take the bait; I don’t care for the metaphor and that’s game-playing) but only when I finally asked what kind did he tell me. Disability historian. Then the conversation actually turned lively but it was time to go as he “had to get up early” the next day. Like I said, subtle.

As we walked to the metro to take different trains, thank goodness, I could tell you that he raved about a theatre group that performed Shakespeare’s plays without words. Said, and I paraphrase, “Shakespeare’s work really lends itself to silent performance.” Um, which Shakespeare are you talking about, as I found myself longing to flick his ear, because the Shakespeare plays I know really lend themselves to BEING HEARD. PhD historian. Historian this, historian that, because I’m an historian, I studied to be an historian, he said.

I wanted to tell him, “Hey historian, you’re history.”

UP NEXT: It’s raining men.