Thursday, November 4, 2010

of men and money.

i need to write today. need it. except my neck and shoulders are so sore that i don't want to sit here long enough to write anything worthwhile. they're sore for the same reasons i need to write: stress. it's been about a week this time. it could last weeks. a few times it has even lasted months. the neck and shoulder pain, i mean. well, and the stress. one is tamed when i write. the other gets worse.

money sucks. lack of it, and excess of it. i only have experience with one. i make roughly the same amount per year now as i did when i was 22. actually, at one point when i was 22 i made more. at that same point i was also kissing male models like they were passing by on a conveyor belt: i'll have that really tall one with the caramely skin. dean. what a dreamy name. he says he was the first drummer for pantera. he would be the first of my men who play drums. i didn't care if the pantera bit was true because he took me out on a real date. we met in the lobby of his hotel, went to a nice dinner, walked on the really, we did. and it's not nearly as lame as it sounds. it was kinda nice. as we sat at a bar later having some sort of fancy drinks, he pointed over my shoulder and said that painting has a really nice composition...and i thought who cares. it was nearly pitch black in there anyway, how could he tell? i think he made it up. but still he was charming and made me feel like a lady. that happens every once in a while...whiles being like 4-leaf clovers and all.

oooh and that tall, lanky one from texas with the skateboard. adam. he was so cool and he didn't even know it. he was cool because he didn't know it. he listened to the black eyed peas in 1999, when they weren't horrible. adam would be the first of my men on skateboards. i wonder if there will be another, or if one day i'll wake up (as in not from slumber but from oblivion) and take up with a safe know, the kind who can't tell a high hat from a top hat and doesn't know that "trucks" are not just the vehicles that other men drive. nice boy will drive an SUV. i hope. i can't give up the thrill of chasing the wrong men for a guy who drives a car. i don't like it.

hey wait, there's another. i'll have that one with the messy outfit and short-short black hair that would definitely be curly if it were long. he doesn't wear deodorant and has a bad attitude? even better. j.d. — every word he said was tired, as if it had to walk a mile from his brain to his mouth. i liked to hear him talk. we shared a cab from the office one evening after work. later that night he snorted coke off the kitchen counter and played video games while making fun of his english girlfriend's attempts to fight with him on the phone. he was not the first of my men who were spoiled by too much attention from women.

by the way, i was celibate at the time. no, really. i wasn't even tempted, to be honest. and i'm not just saying that in case my dad reads this one day. by the time he gets to this post he'll have enough to give him heartburn. dani, why did you write all that stuff? i don't know, dad. that's just what happened. that's how i answer most of his inquiries into my behavior.

i don't know how i got to talking about men when i started with money. both are a necessary evil. i have to have money so i can pay bills and buy soynog at christmas. i have to have man, that is...because this shoulder isn't gonna rub itself.

today kinda sucked. i ate a pumpkin cheesecake brownie and low fat, organic cheesy poofs for lunch. it didn't change the aforementioned, but it tasted delicious.


  1. Men and Money a necessary evil and I suck at both. After 14 yrs I just asked my very wealthy, gay, BIL not to spend his usual $2000 on me for Christmas this year. To me it is excessive and makes me uncomfortable. He spends the same amount on his 2 sisters, brother, and 2 BIL's...more on his parents. Instead I was hoping he could use the money another way, on my 4 kids for example. Needless to say, my request was not met with understanding and kindness but yet drama and hostility...I suck at both

  2. your a wonderful writer, and i love the photo.
    great work.