Dinner Date

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 12 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

Describe your perfect meal? Who cooks? Where is it? With whom do you eat?

It was submitted by: http://thelieberfamily.com

I took a little freedom with this prompt and wrote a little fiction. I did include my perfect meal (the eggplant, btw), but I don't think I would call any of these other circumstances perfect by any means. Anyway, I just wanted to stretch my fiction wings and see what I could do with this prompt. Thanks for reading. 

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I met him on Tindr.

As much as I want to say that should have been the first red flag, I guess a lot of people must have success with that app, right? I mean, too many people use it still for it to all be bad. Maybe the right phrase here is that I should have been less naïve about how wrongly this could go. I should have packed some mace or had a plan to let my friends know where I would be and what time I would be home. Am I victim-blaming myself? Ugh. A little, but that’s so ingrained in who we are as people, isn’t it? If we admit the victim is never at fault in things like this, then we also have to admit we have no control over whether we will ever be a victim, and who the hell wants that? Apparently not the majority of the world.

Anyway, like I said, we met on Tindr, Adam and I. That’s probably not his real name now that I think about it, but either way, that’s all I know, so it’s what I’ll go with. He messaged me first, and I thought his pictures were great. He had a few of him and his dog that, of course, melted my heart. I was more excited about that dog than anything at first if you want to know the truth. Too many dates in my life have gone wrong, but I’ve never met a doggo that wasn’t love at first sight.

We matched or whatever, but I didn’t send a message at first. I didn’t want to seem too eager, and his profile didn’t give me enough to really construct something I could feel good about. Maybe that’s the beauty of Tindr, though. There’s not a whole lot of information to go on when you are looking at profiles. It’s not like some of these other sites where a person has already constructed this quirky outline of who they are that’s almost always a couple thousand words of bullshit that never turn out to be true in any shape or form. It might be who they wish they were, but it’s never who they really are. Not in my experience.

I can’t remember what exactly he said in his first message, but he was pretty chill, and that first day he did let me know that he wasn’t looking for an easy hook-up. He did want to be able to actually meet someone in person which so rarely happened on actual dating site, so his desire ranged somewhere between nameless one-night-stand and committed relationship. We talked for a few days, flirted shamelessly, and swapped numbers. I wanted to go out for drinks right after that (roughly a week or so after we first connected), but after asking twice and getting shot down (he was tired, he was busy, etc etc), I figured he either wasn’t really interested or wanted to ask himself, so I backed off a bit to see how it would go.

He didn’t take it well. When do they ever?

I woke up to a string of messages after I didn’t return his missed call the night before. He called me rude and asked me why I had wasted his time when he specifically told me he wanted someone who would actually meet him, blah blah blah. If at any time there was a red flag, that was truly it, so why was I so stupid? I fell right for it. I felt horribly that I had ignored him on purpose because I knew I was trying to manipulate the situation to my favor or at least manipulate it to preserve my own feelings while trying to sniff out the truth, and it had backfired on me so fucking spectacularly that I didn’t really stop to think in the moment that this reaction was so far out of proportion over just a missed phone call.

I messaged him a long apology by text. I lied. Obviously. But, I still apologized telling him I hadn’t felt well but that I should have just text and let him know that. I didn’t get an apology in return of course, but I was relieved at the time that he seemed to take my excuse as truth and calmed down enough to continue our conversations. We didn’t talk on the phone that night, and he was a little standoffish, but the next day it was like it never happened. He asked me, finally, if I wanted to have dinner with him. I accepted thinking we could meet at one of the little cafes downtown for something light that night, but no. No, he had other plans. He wanted to cook for me, he said. At his house. Way outside of town. Because of course. Of course he did. And of course I agreed like an idiot.

We had already discussed our favorite foods—mine being eggplant parmesan and his being steak (of course it was! Of course!). So he wanted to cook both. Apparently, I have just never had a steak cooked the right way regardless of the fact that I don’t really eat much meat especially beef and pork. You know, that kind of guy. I started getting a little more hesitant then, but I figured I would go through with it. I mean, maybe he was just really proud of his steak skills? That’s what I thought at the time anyway.

That’s not what I think now.

Have you ever seen that subreddit called Let’s Not Meet? Or read one of those craigslist horror stories? This is kinda like that. I got to his house a little early. I knocked, but no one answered. I could smell the grill, though, so I walked around back and found him carving up some kind of animal that was definitely not a cow and throwing pieces on the grill. He was wearing a poncho, had the entire back porch covered in a plastic tarp. He had a lot of tools out there…things I have never even seen before. I screamed. Loudly. He jumped and dropped whatever he was working on yelling at me, “what the fuck are you doing here so early?!”

I froze mid-scream in a panic and watched in horror as he grinned broadly and picked up the cleaver he had been using on the not-cow, “you have been a bad, bad girl. Come over here and get your punishment.”

I ran. I ran faster than I think I have ever run in my life. I heard him jump over the railing of his porch, but thank fucking god, I have a keyless entry car these days because I was in the car with the doors locked and had it cranked before he caught up to me. I threw the car in reverse while he banged on the window with the butt of the cleaver. The window cracked just a little and splintered, but it never actually broke before I could pull off down the street. I called 911 as soon as I got to the end of his street and gave them the address and told them what I saw. The woman dispatcher seemed horrified, but maybe that’s just because I was so horrified. Maybe I read into it? Maybe I was so panicked she couldn’t help but pick up on some of my feelings about it. Either way, she said she would send someone to his house while I drove to the station to make a statement. I did what was asked of me. I gave my statement, showed the texts, and our Tindr messages. I answered all the questions I could and ended up knowing the two officers who were talking to me thought I was being absolutely hysterical and had completely misread the situation….until the officers who responded to the scene called back in.

The house wasn’t Adam’s or whoever he was. It was empty or appeared to be and didn’t have a current lease according to the owner who hadn’t rented it out or even had a question about it in over 6 months. There wasn’t anything at all in the house except a duffle bag with some more tools, another poncho, another tarp, and a handful of driver’s licenses from other women. He was nowhere to be found. No car, no trace, nothing except the bloody tarp in the back, the tools, and the meat which has yet to be identified.

The police have the picture I saved as his contact photo, but his Tindr profile was deleted. I’m guessing all the licenses will come back to missing women and maybe being early for once saved my life… I haven’t been sleeping well—I keep having nightmares that he comes looking for me which I guess might actually not be that far from the realm of possibilities. But at least I didn’t eat anyone. 

Silver linings, y’all.

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Here's the rest of the submissions this week!

Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.com/2017/03/ill-take-half-secret-subject-swap.html

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy http://dinoheromommy.com/

Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver http://www.thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog.html

The Lieber Family Blog http://thelieberfamily.com

The Bergham Chronicles http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com

Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot.com

Simply Shannon http://shannonbutler.org

Confessions of a part time working mom http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2017/03/march-secret-subject-swap-pay-it-forward.html

Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm.com

The Angrivated Mom http://www.angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/

Top 6 Men to Avoid on Dating Sites

I’ve been on dating sites for a number of years now. I’ve never expected to meet my one and only true love on these types of sites. Some people do. More power to you on that. You found a needle in a haystack the size of the Empire State Building. It’s really quite an impressive feat. For me, though, it’s been good for meeting a few good friends and more than a few good laughs. After years of experience, I can safely say that the people to stay away from, the red flags, far outnumber the interesting, decent guys. You want to avoid these guys at all costs:

1. The Whiner—You might be able to spot The Whiner right away. He’ll have something in his headline, perhaps, about how he’s about to delete his profile since no one responds anyway or he’ll whine that there’s no one real on these sites. In the text of his profile will be a lot of complaints about how many women he’s been out with that turned out not to be who they say they are or any number of whiny issues that make you roll your eyes hard enough to risk them popping right out of your fucking skull. The Whiner always wants a woman to be honest with him but then when she is, he whines that he didn’t get his way. It’s a never ending circle of whininess that really leads nowhere at all much less to Sexville or even to a first date for fuck’s sake. If he messages you for any length of time, eventually you’ll hear all the whining about how he’s really a nice guy, and he’s always in the friendzone. Look, whinebags, our vaginas instantly become more arid than the Sahara Desert as soon as you whip out phrases like “nice guy” and “friendzone” especially since we were already treading on dehydration from all the whiny ass bullshit to begin with. It’s absolutely not attractive to listen to a guy whine about how women aren’t just falling into his lap. Get the fuck over yourself already. You aren’t entitled to any woman’s vagina. You aren’t entitled to sex. Recognize that fact.

 

2. Abs Guy—This is the guy that always has a bathroom mirror pic with his shirt pulled up or completely off that only shows his very muscular midsection. His profile talks about how much he loves to work out and says very little else if anything at all. The messages will either be indicative that he never read your profile such as “hey wanna chat” or “ur hot” or be some sort of attempt at describing in detail what he would like to do to you. All in all, the messages and the profile are indicative of the guy having no brain which is probably why he put his abs on the profile pic to begin with. Those are probably the most functional part of his body, dick included.

3. The Pick Up Artist—Let’s just get things straight right from the start. This guy is a major misogynist. He might be a frequenter of men’s rights forums, but he’s definitely read a thing or two about how to pick up women because, as he will bluntly tell you, all women like to be treated like shit, love bad boys, and adore assholes. All women should, all women need, blah blah blah blah blah. It never ends. He starts out the messages with something obviously negative. Sometimes, it’s a comment such as “You have great lips, and I guess the rest of you isn’t bad either.” If you reject him, he instantly tells you that you’re a fat, ugly bitch and that he didn’t want you anyway. If you don’t respond to him, he messages you to ask you why you’re scared. His entire tactic is about making you look bad or weak because that’s exactly what he thinks of women in the first place.

4. Loverboy—This guy is looking for love and he doesn’t even care who its with honestly. He likely jumps from relationship to relationship because he definitely mistakes crushing and lusting for someone as love. He doesn’t read anything at all about what you’re looking for on your profile. If, for example, you say that you want to date casually or are just looking for friends and short term dating, he will message you about looking for his soulmate. To him, you don’t know what you want. He’s not necessarily an overt misogynist, but he firmly believes that you just haven’t met the right guy yet and that no matter what’s going on in your life or where you are or what you want, if you just give him a chance to show you what “real” love is like, you’ll totally change your mind. He also wrongly assumes that the only reason you aren’t looking for a long term relationship is because you’ve been hurt by other men which he promises in message 2 never to do to you because he can talk to like he’s never talked to anyone before. Ever. Just be careful or he’ll end up watching you outside your bathroom window while you shave your legs.

5. The Flasher—This guy, like Abs Guy, often sends you messages stating, in very explicit terms,

exactly what he would like to do to your body. He doesn’t think of you as a person at all which is where he differs from The Pickup Artist. The Pickup Artist knows you’re human but by way of having a vagina you’re a lower form of human than anything with a dick. The Flasher completely ignores your personhood. Instead, you’re a tool for getting off. Much like the weirdos who have exhibitionistic paraphilic disorders who flash their sad, flaccid wee-wees at old ladies in grocery store parking lots, these guys are only in it for the thrill of showing you what’s under his metaphorical trench coat. He knows when he sends you the message that you’re not going to respond favorably to it, but he’s already jerking the gherkin when he hits the send button anyway just imagining your face when you read it, so no worries there. Women on dating sites are the equivalent to a Kleenex to these dudes.

6. Creepo—This guy acts like there’s no reason why you shouldn’t feel unsafe to meet him at his home. He offers to let you hang out with him in his very first message before you even know his name and even tells you he’ll be happy to supply the alcohol! He thinks it’s a nice offer and if you protest, he’ll assure you, like so many others, that he’s a nice guy and that there’s nothing to worry about. Yet, here he is offering to ply a complete stranger with alcohol at his apartment without even knowing if you drink. Something’s wrong with this picture. People who meet men on dating sites without vetting them first are often being raped and murdered. Craigslist killers have been fairly commonplace. And you’re just supposed to go get drunk at a complete stranger’s house with no concerns because he reassures you he’s not the creep you think he is. This is the same guy that will often refuse to meet you in a public place first because it’s just too inconvenient or he doesn’t really have the time. STAY AWAY or you could very likely end up having to file a police report if you even live through the date at all. 

As you can see, none of these guys are good news. You're better off cutting out your own heart than ever consider even so much as replying favorably to one of these guys. Do yourself a favor and RUN whenever you find them in your inbox. 

This has been another Sunday Confession with More Than Cheese and Beer. Check out the other linkups over on her blog and the Facebook page for anonymous confessions. 

The Art of Exposing Douches

As many of you probably already know, I have a second blog that I co-run with Ash from More Than Cheese and Beer called DoucheArt. If you’ve never visited that particular site, in a nutshell, we take messages we receive on dating sites (and reader submissions) that are oversexualized and awful and turn them into kitschy art with a little commentary following the images we post.

This has not always gone over well with male readers. Some comments that we’ve gotten include:

· If you really wanted to help, you could use your time to do so much more.

· Why don’t you just block those guys and not worry about it?

· Isn’t getting revenge on stupid people a little petty?

· Making fun of people who don’t really know any better isn’t productive.

Let me address all those in one big lump. Because they’re all relatively linked and all bullshit.

I’m not sure why the assumption is the only people who send awful messages are stupid, socially inept, and don’t know any better. The facts are that after years of being on dating sites, these messages come from people of all races, ages, socioeconomic classes, intelligence levels, and genders (though from my personal experience, they come from men far more often than women). They aren’t coming from stupid people who don’t understand how to talk to others; they come from people who purposefully send such messages because they have issues. Having issues and not knowing any better are two very different fucking things, and the former doesn’t need to be excused. It needs to be highlighted more often and understood in the dating site context.

See, the thing is…we are trying to help on an issue that far too often goes ignored because so many people feel ashamed and guilty for receiving these kinds of messages over and over again. It can be frustrating, sure, but at the core of it is a very big issue that is ever-present in our society. It’s not about revenge, not in the least. It’s about shining a light on these sorts of messages instead of sweeping it under the rug. It’s about making a statement that this shit is not fucking acceptable, not in the least, and that when a message like this happens, it's evidence of the fucked up views of society manifesting in some asshole with too much time on his hands.

What happens when a man (or woman) sends a message detailing the sorts of things he (or she) would like to do to you without ever having talked to you first is tantamount to sexual assault. It’s not any different at all than a man in a trench coat flashing his flaccid little weewee at old ladies in a grocery store parking lot. That message is sent without respect for the person who reads it and is sent for the thrill of sending it just like the flasher shows off his sad little pecker for the thrill of doing so and not with the idea that it is going to win him a date with double-couponing octogenarians. Blocking the person after the fact is like telling your horrified grandmother to just erase the memory of the tragedy that lived beneath the trench coat AFTER she was flashed. It doesn’t fucking work that way. The damage has already been done.

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders-v, the criteria for exhibitionistic disorder, one of the paraphilic disorders detailed in the manual, includes the following:

· Over a period of at least 6 months, recurrent and intense sexual arousal from the exposure of one’s genitals to an unsuspecting person, as manifested by fantasies, urges, or behaviors.

· The individual has acted on these sexual urges with a NONCONSENTING person, or the sexual urges or fantasies cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.

Exhibitionistic disorder is highly associated with antisocial personality disorder which is characterized by complete lack of regard for others, manipulation, criminal behavior, lying, conning, and impulsivity. Psychopathy is a subtype of antisocial personality disorder.

I provide that information to illustrate that getting aroused by showing off your genitals to random people really isn’t all that different from sending unsolicited dick pics (which happens. often. Some people even try to beat the bots and use dick pics AS THEIR PROFILE PICTURE) and it’s not all that different from sending a woman a message detailing all the perverted things you want to do to her. She didn’t ask for that information. She is NONCONSENTING. The person who sends those messages, as with the person who flashes his weewee, has no respect or concern for the person who sees. He (as almost all clinical exhibitionists are male according to prevailing studies) has no regard for what the other person wants or for the other person altogether. It’s a sick motherfucker who gets online and jerks off while sending a quantity of random women perverse messages. And make no mistake—that is exactly what is happening. It’s not about her or about how attractive she is. It’s about getting off because it’s a thrill to send something like that and imagine the woman’s face when she opens the message. It’s a new era of exhibitionistic disorder that needs to be studied for future inclusion in the paraphilic disorders of the DSM.

And when you get right down to it, this is all an extension of rape culture, of the sense of entitlement some men have to do whatever it takes to get off even when the other person has absolutely zero desire to be involved. It’s about the attitude that, for men, women are here for their enjoyment especially their most base pleasures and that we, women, really don’t have much say in the matter. The Internet has made this mode of thinking (and yes, I know, #notallmen) even easier to capitalize on because there are relatively NO consequences for this kind of behavior and plenty of websites that promote and celebrate it.

This isn’t about revenge as has been said to us. It’s not petty. It’s not about making people look like idiots. This is about highlighting a serious issue that is basically treated, as always, as the woman’s responsibility and her fault. I can’t tell you how many times that Ash and I have heard “if you don’t want to deal with that then why are you on those sites?” like we’re ASKING FOR IT just because we want to network outside of our very limited local social circles. We’re asking to be abused because we have a profile on a website that is not designed specifically for fetish behaviors, hookups, or casual sex but for dating and getting to know people? Right… I’m tired of being told to just ignore the messages and block the person because in the end, that dude is sending out dozens more to dozens more women who all have to deal with it themselves. I’m tired of being told to report it (like I don’t) when I know each and every person who gets reported just makes a new profile. I’ve gotten messages from the same guy who always talks about how much he wants to dominate me with his 10 inches from at least half a dozen different profiles over the last few years.

This needs to be treated like the serious issue that it is and while we sometimes write from a humorous point of view on DoucheArt we do maintain that the Internet community needs to be more aggressive about this issue. The scariest part of this is that sexual offenders often escalate in their crimes. A person who starts out as a flasher or as an Internet scumbag who sexually assaults women with his explicit messages may very well end up a repeat sex offender as the thrills of *just* flashing recedes and the person in question needs more and more to achieve the same state of arousal.

And, even when the person is not messaging a detailed list of all the things he wants to do and he sincerely propositions a woman in the first message, it's still that same sense of entitlement that makes him think it's okay to do so. We really don't fucking care if you have a huge dick. We really don't care that you want to suck on our tits. We don't have any desire to meet you for drinks and a little fun because you want to show our clitorises a good time. When you have no respect for us on a dating site, why the fuck would you respect us when we said "no" in person? And by then it's too late, isn't it?

So, are there really bigger issues I could tackle or more important ones or more than I can do on my “silly” little blog? I suppose we could always do more and strive to be better, but I’m quite proud of what we’re trying to do here and will continue despite the naysayers.

This is another Sunday of Confessions with More than Cheese and Beer (link above). Please feel free to check out all the other submissions and see all the tales of revenge that should follow. Oh and Please feel free to check out this funny older post of mine involving the time my son got revenge on our cat here.

Jeopardy J Style

It's Secret Subject Swap day for September hosted by Baking in a Tornado. There were 11 brave bloggers that joined in today. We each submitted a prompt and were given another in secret to be interpreted in our own way and posted simultaneously today. See the end for the links to all the others and to check out the interpretation of the prompt I submitted :)

For now, my prompt was submitted by http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/ and is: Having a chance to be a candidate at the Jeopardy show, what excites / scares you the most? If you could chose the categories, which would you feel comfortable with?

I’ve never really been a big fan of Jeopardy unless the skits on Saturday Night Live with Will Ferrell as Alex

Trebek count as fanship. So, that might be my biggest concern being on Jeopardy—the overwhelming desire to make my name “Turd Ferguson” a la Norm Macdoanld as Burt Reynolds or maybe to make jokes about sleeping with Trebek’s mom as was the running gag on those skits when Darrell Hammond played Sean Connery. Who could help it? Celebrity Jeopardy were some of my favorite skits on the show.

I have a bit of stage fright and nervousness being in big crowds. I’m painfully introverted; I’m not an in-the-spotlight kind of girl. So, that, in and of itself, would likely make me a piss-poor game show contestant. I’m not really squealy or jumpy or too excitable.

All my *girl screams* are mostly internal.

I don’t know that I would really be all that excited, but I’d certainly be afraid I’d trip, fall, and show my entire ass to the audience since I always wear dresses. I’d most definitely stutter, forget to phrase my answers as a question, and make those goofball, idiotic faces when I talk like always especially when I’m nervous. But, it could be fun if I could choose the categories. There are some things I know far more about than others. For example, I don’t know a fucking thing about sports, ballet, or opera which are common categories (according to my limited Google research). There are times I’d like to completely avoid Facebook during football season just so I don’t have to see the idiotic “Let’s Go Dickheads” and “We nailed them (even though I never left the fucking couch!!!!!!!!!!)” posts. And, quite honestly, I live in a town of 297 people. Seeing a ballet or opera isn’t really the easiest thing, and if I’m even more honest, it’s not even a thing that I’d make that much of an effort to do. The closest I really want to be to an opera is watching reruns of that episode of Looney Tunes where Elmer Fudd runs around singing “I killed da wabbit….I killed da wabbit…”

So, what DO I know about then?

Classic Rock History: if you ever want to know the history behind Layla or who was even IN Derek and the Dominos, I am your girl. “These classic rock artists all died at the age of 27.” “Who are Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and Brian Jones, Alex.” I can answer questions about Woody Guthrie, Bobby Fuller, Duane Allman, Skynyrd…When I love something, I want to know more about it. it’s just my thing. I grew up on classic rock and some outlaw country but mostly classic rock, so of course, it has always stuck with me and continues to be a big love of mine today.

Obscure bands: Yeah, some people say this would make me a music snob, but I just like to say that I love what I love, and I listen to what I love. Once a true, self admitted music snob told me that I didn’t know a fucking thing about real music. It really pissed me off... In fact, I can’t tell you at the time how angry I was. I have to say it was a good thing he was all the way in Boston while I was here in Georgia on the other end of the phone. He insisted. I argued. Music had always been a huge part of my life, so how could this person say this absolute garbage to me? He told me to listen to a band named Baroness, a song called Couer. So, I did. I downloaded the first couple of EPs and their first full length album. I liked what I heard. I did. I didn’t love it at first, but then the song Red Sky came on. Right from the start, it captured me. Something sparked. A minute into it, I leaned back in my chair with my glass of wine and the whole house around me just faded away. I closed my eyes and felt something stirring in my that had long been asleep, coiled and waiting for the right moment to live and man, did it fucking live that night. It started a musical evolution, maybe revolution is the right word. So, no, I don’t really listen to whatever or whatever comes on the radio typically, but it’s because I worked for it. My asshole friend was completely wrong. I did know a lot about music already, but he set me on the right path to find things that meant more to me….that hit all the right notes, so to speak. I’ve expanded on that quite a bit on my own to include so many genres of music, but I found those on my own, listening, opening myself up to it, and caring about more than a catchy tune… So, I reserve the right to be picky. It’s not really a bad thing.

Death penalty statistics: Having written and helped a person on death row for 7 years does not come without knowledge. Well, I suppose it can. If you’re in it for the wrong reasons, if you only care about yourself then yeah, sure, you’re only going to write. You’ll never get informed. And, you’ll move on to the next one like some execution conveyor belt. I’ve seen it happen. But, for me, at least, writing and helping hasn’t come without knowledge. So, I can tell you exactly what the costs are, how much certain states can save. “$90,000 per inmate, per year.” “What is the cost of housing on average for a death row inmate over that of someone given life without parole, Alex.” Correct. I can tell you the projected error rates and the number of people who have been wrongly convicted who were later exonerated. “145.” “The number of death row exonerees up to September 2, 2014, Alex.” I can tell you about the people who aren’t included in the error rates because they’ve already been executed. “The Texas man wrongly executed for the arson murder of his young children which forensic evidence now shows was not arson.” “Who is Cameron Todd Willingham, Alex.” I live and breathe these statistics. Every time I look down at the callous on my finger from writing so much, so often, I think of them in complete and utter horror. It’s amazing what a country can fool itself into believing is the right thing, isn’t it? (Read more of my writing here and here and here.)

Counseling Theories: I’ve been fascinated by human behavior for decades. Analyzing, wondering, interpreting… It was my friend’s murder and the way I eventually dealt with all of that which eventually shaped my career goals to include counseling inmates. And, it’s not *just* about the counseling…it’s about social advocacy and preparing these individuals (who are often thrown in a cage and forgotten until they’re returned to society and pretty much given zero chance to make it) to come back to their homes or make new homes without returning to a life of crime. It’s not going to be easy. I’ve spent the last few years attempting to earn my master of science in forensic counseling, and much of that time is spent learning counseling theories and how those theories apply to every aspect of the field. We’re expected to develop a theoretical orientation while still in school—a theory or combination of theories which form the foundation of our theoretical approach with clients—so it’s important to know the ins and outs of each before making the kind of commitment that will shape the way you conceptualize every case that you ever encounter and with the fascination that comes so naturally to me, the knowledge of those theories has stuck with me especially since I know how important it is to treat the client as an individual and not stick inflexibly to just one theory. There is no one-size-fits-all approach.

Cult Movie Quotes: I suppose this applies to any movie I love and not just the ones that have developed a cult following, but most of the ones I do love end up being cult films. Did I mention I’m an ordained Dudeist priest? Yep, I love The Big Lebowski that much. So, it’s no wonder that I often have a movie quote at the ready in almost every situation to lighten the mood or make things awkward. And then even more awkward as I explain that it’s a line from a movie and I’m not completely incapable of normal social interaction which truly shows that I’m completely incapable of normal social interaction. “The snozberries taste like snozberries” was uttered in the back of a police car.” “Well, meow, that would be What is Supertroopers?” Pretty much any Coen brothers or Tarantino film, Guy Ritchie films excluding Sherlock (D’ya like dags?), SLC Punk, Dazed and Confused, Grandma’s Boy, anything with Will Ferrell except that shitty buddy cop film he did with Marky Mark, Scott Pilgrim, Taxi Driver, Rocky Horror, Kubrick films, Pineapple Express, High Fidelity, John Hughes films…oh god John Hughes films should have their own category. I won’t bore you with all the films I love, but the fact is that sometimes when my words fail me, I don’t mind stealing others’.

WatchMojo.com lists: WatchMojo has a youtube channel. I hate this fucking channel. I really do. I don’t even like youtube as a whole. But, my best friend got me started watching these lists. Top 10 Musical Acts of the 90s. Top 10 Cult Action Films. Top 10 Cash Cow Films. Top 10. Top 10. Top 10. What can I say? I’m a sucker for lists. So, that part of me--the sucker, the lover of High Fidelity, the mental mistress of one Rob Gordon--craves her lists. The rational part of me knows that every.single.time. I watch said lists I get pissed off and yell at the TV screen “you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about!” and then I say, “I’m never watching this shit again.” And then I do. The very next day.

Dating Profile Dos and Don’ts: I’ve had dating site profiles for a number of years now on both Plenty of Fish

and OkCupid. In fact, I have a blog project with More than Cheese and Beer at DoucheArt where we take messages we get and reader submissions to make kitschy art. It’s been sort of a social experiment for me in many ways even though I have met some great friends that way. If I honestly expected to meet the love of my life on a dating site, I’d be sorely disappointed, I’m sure. But, after so many years of this, I can truly say that I can no longer be surprised. “This is something you should never send in a first message to a woman on Plenty of Fish.” “What is ‘i no i dnt no u but wld u kcik me in the balls as hard as u can, I lik ur tats.’”

80s and 90s Cartoons: On OkCupid, one of the sections of your profile asks you the most intimate thing you’re willing to admit. Most people skip over this entirely which always kind of bothers me. I mean, why go on a dating profile if you’re going to be so secretive that there’s nothing that comes to mind to add here. Anyway, my answer is that I cannot escape the comfort of the cartoons of my youth. It’s true. I still watch Ducktales every chance I get. Scooby Doo. Pee-Wee’s Playhouse (it still counts). Tailspin, Batman the Animated Series, Tiny Toons, Darkwing Duck, the Wuzzles, Wacky Races, Gummi Bears, the Smurfs, Animaniacs, Doug… I love sharing these with my son and knowing that he loves them just as much as I do no matter how different they look than what’s available today. We laugh at old Looney Tunes and both find comfort in old Scooby movies. I have an entire cabinet full of DVD seasons of cartoons from this time period, and I would own this category. Like a boss.

Third, Fourth, and Fifth Generation Video Games: So, maybe I’ve played a lot of video games in my time even though there have been occasions in my life when I’ve criticized the video gaming industry for being a bit misogynistic and one-directional. The time period mentioned extends from the original and unbeatable

NES to the original Playstation. I still love games, but these days I watch more than I play. I stay too busy to play many myself and watching someone else play allows me the opportunity to multitask, so I think, even though my knowledge extends to current era gaming, I’d feel safer with the generations I’ve played myself. I actually read Game Informer, watch a couple of video game channels on Youtube, and learn a lot from those stupid mojo.com lists that end up pissing me off. And, no, I haven’t fully revealed my nerdery….To do so, I have to admit that I have a pair of Super Mario Bros 3 earrings that look like actual NES cartridges. My love is mighty and would serve me well in such a category. Unfortunately, my bias is strong, and I would probably get into a fist fight with Alex over my beloved games and turn the real Jeopardy into some awful parody of an SNL skit. If any question asked the number 1 NES game of all time and the answer was not Mario 3, it would be on like Donkey Kong.

Stephen King Novels: I have been a constant reader since the age of 13. I preorder them, devour them, complain when the story lines seem similar to prior works, absorb the insightfulness of the characters, reread them—something I can’t do with most novels, and get inspired by them. He’s one of my favorites not because of the genre he so often writes in but the way he uses these insane plots, these horror and sci-fi worlds, to talk about humanity, to reveal something about a person—a commentary on humanity overall at times—that would not have been revealed through every day, mundane life. Is he the greatest writer? No. And sometimes that side of his humanity makes me like his work even more.

Non-chocolate Candies: I get cravings for chocolate like anyone else, I guess. Ok, maybe not as strong as some people I know, but I have zero will power when it comes to fruity or gummy things. If it’s in one of those categories, I’m all over it. “The combination of Haribo gummies that is like an orgasm in your mouth.” “What is Happy Cola and Twin Cherries,Alex.” Correct.

4th Wave Feminism: I don’t think anyone ever has been an expert feminist. That may sound at odds with including this category for Jeopardy. But, what I really mean, is that feminism is a different experience for every woman. We don’t have to agree on every little tidbit. Some people love that Beyonce has embraced the feminist title and I do agree wholeheartedly that she has pushed it and pulled more women into understanding that feminism isn’t the dirty word we thought it was. I had to learn that the hard way myself. But, do I agree with a big fraction of feminists who think that the way she shakes her ass on stage is her display of radical feminism and embracing her sexuality without fault? No, I think it sells more records than it would if she relied solely on her intellect, and I think that’s a sucky image to give to her younger audience. So, there’s no right way to feminist, but there’s no way to come to some sort of agreement enough that any of us are experts. Or maybe I’m the only one that sees it that way. ha. But, I do know enough about the basics that I would love for this category to be a part of the epidode I’m on. “The aspect of modern society which consistently puts blame for rape and other sex crimes solely on the victim and rarely puts responsibility on the rapist.” “What is rape culture, Alex.” I know what feminism is and isn’t and what the myths are. It’s one of those labels I use to identify myself and my beliefs and something I feel strongly about, so while it may be more serious than a lot of my categories here, I think it’s necessary to shine an intelligent light on the truths in a more mainstream light without the interference of those godawful Jezebel writers.

And since we need 13 picks to include final jeopardy, I’m throwing in Privilege: Privilege has become a big deal topic to me. It’s not something everyone likes to discuss, and it surely makes a lot of folks angry to even so much as see that word. Privilege. Privilege is one of my son’s 3rd grade level homeschool vocabulary words…simple yet so misunderstood in the context of sociology. The idea that we’re born into a lot in life that makes it easier for some and harder for others is a concept that people continually try to deny but that has been irrefutably proven to exist in study after study after study. It’s sort of the climate change of the sociological world. All the experts agree but people have such a hard fucking time changing their world view to align with the evidence thrown before them that they shout and scream and rail against it like somehow being loud and obnoxious suddenly makes the truth no longer true. Privilege is not guilt. It doesn’t mean you have to feel guilty for being born White or male or into a wealthy family. You don’t have to feel guilty for not having mental or physical disabilities. The whole point of the matter is that it’s important to recognize that we aren’t all born on the same playing field. We don’t have the same capabilities when it comes to succeeding by whatever definition we think success is measured. Some of us absolutely cannot just pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and work our fingers to the bone to make it out of whatever dire situation we were born into… We were sold that idea a long time ago…the American Dream. It seems relatively impossible for people to give up that idea that working hard and buying more stuff is the answer to everything. But we have to and until we acknowledge that systemic racism and sexism and other biases are holding people back from reaching their full potential, until we acknowledge that people are targets of the police and the justice system, this country is going to continue to polarize and divide until we absolutely implode into civil unrest, war, and destruction. So, it’s an important topic to me, a vital one really. And I think it’s one that I would treat seriously on the show…

So, it’s not categories like Shakespeare or Before and After but I think it would make a hell of an episode.

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts.  Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

http://www.BakingInATornado.com                             Baking In A Tornado

http://themomisodes.com                                           The Momisodes

http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/                         Spatulas on Parade

http://stacysewsandschools.blogspot.com/                    Stacy Sews and Schools

http://sparklyjenn.blogspot.com/                              Sparkly Poetic Weirdo 

http://www.eviljoyspeaks.wordpress.com                   Evil Joy Speaks

http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/             Confessions of a part-time working mom http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com                       Someone Else’s Genius

http://dinoheromommy.com/                                     Dinosaur Superhero Mommy

http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com                       The Bergham’s Life Chronicles

For All You Hopeless Romantics

I have read, so often lately, blogs and articles discussing the idea that romance is dead. As someone who has had a dating profile for the last several years of my life, I have to say that this idea is preposterous. I mean, just check out the message I received earlier this week:

This person has obviously made himself vulnerable to write and tell me exactly how big his dick is. Isn't that so sweet? I mean, how could romance not have anything to do with squirming? Squirming on the first date sounds absolutely hopelessly, awe-inspiringly romantic. These people who write these articles must be crazy. Or maybe they're not on okcupid, the hub of online romance. 

Here's another example from this time last year. Just in time for Valentine's Day!!!! Look at direct he is with his romantic gestures of SMASHING ME IN TWO. oh. my. fucking. god. It really doesn't get more romantic than this. 

I have never been so swept off my feet as when a man sends me a completely ambiguous message about someone entertaining someone else orally. 

Patrick has tried in no less than a dozen messages to get together every time he is in Bainbridge. My answer never changes. He's obviously one of those "nice guys" and I'm just not into the nice ones. I mean, who takes the time to plan weeks ahead to fuck someone you know nothing about??? 

See how well these guys think out their messages? This is beautiful in its simplicity, right?

Nothing says romantic like a married man gambling on my pussy then attempting to use reverse psychology to see if I'll take the bait and fuck him. I think I'm in love.

They say that boobs are the windows to the soul....

I've never felt so good about myself as when a man tells me that most parts of me aren't all that bad. 

I didn't answer this one either. He sounds like another one of those nice guys who really just love women so much. 

You're sorry that I'm plain hot? What does plain hot really mean? Hot because I'm so plain? I don't know. If you're apologizing for your bad grammar and syntax, the apology is totally accepted. 

Wait, I'm confused. Keep them off permanently or for a long time?

I'm not sure why he didn't respond. I thought my romantic side was on par with his....

As you can see, there is not a shortage of romantic nice guys on dating sites. I don't know what all these people keep complaining about. Romance is dead? I scoff at that. Look at all these men putting themselves out there by offering to make me squirm on their exaggerated dicks while they stare at my hot boobs. 

oh wait. 

This would actually be assholes who have nothing better to do than get STDs from dating sites and spread them around to any women with low enough self-esteem to fall for this kind of shit. Oops. My bad. 

Honestly, though, I don't think romance is dead entirely. As long as the Internet has existed, there have been shallow pricks who would do anything to get laid including exaggerating about their sexual prowess on a dating site message. Before that, guys did it in bars (and still do). Technology has changed the way people can be sick perverts and made it a bit easier to be a sick pervert, but that has not killed the romantic. They're still out there writing each other love notes, making mix tapes, penning songs, and ensuring the people they're interested in feel like the most special being that has ever crossed their paths. It's just the way those people are. It's what moves them, stirs them. To say that romance is dead just because a few more assholes are more blatant about their lack of respect for the opposite sex, to say that a text or an email can't be romantic because technology has changed the way we communicate is just asinine and pessimistic. When you look for only the bad, just as I did with the messages I shared above, it can be found in droves. That's the key to life though...the good is there if you look just as hard to find it.