1. Stories matter. Numbers were inserted here and there to make a point when talking about dire need or how a person made a difference, but they seemed like more of an afterthought. The story was the [...]]]> And, just as with the like the eightfold path or the pirates’ code, these are rather like guidelines.

1. Stories matter. Numbers were inserted here and there to make a point when talking about dire need or how a person made a difference, but they seemed like more of an afterthought. The story was the measurement: how much trust was there? How much was revealed? Did we identify?
2. It’s about kindness. And it seemed that everyone there had it in spades. Or maybe we were all in the same boat…slightly nervous that we wouldn’t be accepted for who we were, then overwhelmed with gratitude when we were, so it spread.
3. Share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share share. If that includes linking, then so be it. It isn’t for the kudos, it’s for the connections.
4. Community, cooperation, collaboration…we gather to make things happen. Because we NEED one another. We can admit that we can’t do it on our own. Or at least, it would be much more fun together.
5. Mentorship is the way to go. Newbies need encouragement. The surest way to measure the success of a community is how fast someone moves from newbie position to mentor position.

I have to go to one of the BlogHer conferences: creating not by competition, but by encouragement and connecting. I didn’t thought that the divide was that crucial. We change the question and its subject, from a “how to get me one of those”, to a “how and why to create some of those.”
Go to Tara’s and share.

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I just don’t think that way, see, about guarding against. I’m thinking about plunging ahead. All right, I think you guard against decay, in general, and stagnation, by moving, by continuing to move. And with courage. And courage is like — it’s a [...]]]> And thanks to Gwen, for pointing this out; check the interview here:

I just don’t think that way, see, about guarding against. I’m thinking about plunging ahead. All right, I think you guard against decay, in general, and stagnation, by moving, by continuing to move. And with courage. And courage is like — it’s a habitus, a habit, a virtue: you get it by courageous acts. It’s like you learn to swim by swimming. You learn courage by couraging. I often draw the Spiral Galaxy on the blackboard, and instead of stars there are Moments. So each Moment, a real Moment, is an act of courage, and that means that the world will speak back to you — and that Moment speaks to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. OK, take the labrys: everything is double-edged. You “guard against” best by not even guarding — just by risking tremendously, and then you jump — Leap — into another sphere, or dimension.

Ah, so much to learn!

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I’d been noticing a trend along these lines, as famous and powerful men took up with young women whose job it was was to care for them and nurture them in some way: their secretaries, assistants, nannies, caterers, flight attendants, [...]]]> Power is the better aphrodisiac, but, as Maureen Dowd discovers, it only works for men:

I’d been noticing a trend along these lines, as famous and powerful men took up with young women whose job it was was to care for them and nurture them in some way: their secretaries, assistants, nannies, caterers, flight attendants, researchers and fact-checkers.
John Schwartz of The New York Times made the trend official in 2004 when he reported: “Men would rather marry their secretaries than their bosses, and evolution may be to blame.” A study by psychology researchers at the University of Michigan, using college undergraduates, suggested that men going for long-term relationships would rather marry women in subordinate jobs than women who are supervisors. Men think that women with important jobs are more likely to cheat on them. There it is, right in the DNA: women get penalized by insecure men for being too independent.

I was surprised by some of my relationships here, with three different women, when all of them stated that their wish was to have somebody to take care of them. As S put it, she only wanted to take care of the house, have kids and a husband to make the money and work so she could relax.
I was shocked! Where were the liberated women? Where the independent? Was it just the cultural difference, or was I under a wrong impression?
As it turns out, power is still attractive, and women, in increasing numbers, are seeking that stability and security that many years of working and striving to be equal, apparently took from them.
Opinions, please?

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What database she uses, I do enquire?

It was a matter of only wondering about how long did we had until somebody arrived, now it is more about wondering about who was there before, and “where-are-these-damned-condoms-I-am-not-fucking-this-slut-without-them”. The complete erosion of trust and that easy naïveté that allowed for crazy stuff, a little of defiance and a much of innocence gone, the expectations and too much knowledge creeping in.

Not innocents now: Sex becomes a performance, a political arena where the right words must be said, where the correct assignment of power is sought, and pleasure must be dished out in controlled and carefully measured dosages, so as to keep the other hooked but always coming for more. Not more marathons, thanks, because I want you at my feet, panting with desire. Besides, we get sore, both emotionally and physically. I liked it before, when I could suspend disbelief and pretend that the words were true, and that the moaning was authentic. Now, I stop short of attaching electrodes everywhere, but keep measuring your pulse, respirations, perspiration and pupil dilation, trying to guess if that thing that you are muttering is my name or somebody’s else. I could dream before, a time when I still believed that commitments were made, and the cynicism of many breakups was not there yet. I could imagine happy futures, and talk of families and rings was clean and easy. Why do you want a ring now? Why do you suspect being used?

It doesn’t help that all along we, as a couple, try to create our identity out of the perceptions that our friends have of us, and thus our family and our relations all get appraised the same way, all along the development of the relationship. It doesn’t help that this now has a goal, a clear objective, and partners get evaluated before they get close. I am looking at you, and thinking about your family, your age, your career potential, your hang-ups and hidden neuroses. I consider your physical history, evaluate the sports you practice, criticize your friends and your career. You do the same with me.

A tree told me to grow leaves, which I use as a metaphor to expand, develop and learn. To remember that Zen advice, have a beginner’s mind.

I might love yet.

were evidently taking advantage of the gullibility of the waiters. When I showed up it [...]]]> It started Wednesday: she called at 11:35, to meet her at a restaurant where some of her friends
some piece of cheap ass, abusive and hypocrite, asking free things of poor immigrant waiters, and patronizing and insulting all along

were evidently taking advantage of the gullibility of the waiters. When I showed up it was ohh so complicated to show any kind of warmth to the queen bee, a loud, obnoxious condescending, patronizing and abusive woman that leads everybody through insults and coercion. That, of course, made me unwanted, so when I left for home I did it alone.
The whole thing happened again. Yesterday.
What to make of yesterday’s date? Calls me at 11:15pm, “come here”, and of course I go. I feel used, abused and utterly insulted. Finally, after enduring much rejection, I leave and enjoy pizzas with some friends. At that moment I see her, all cuddly with a couple of guys that obviously know their way around the hood.
Then she calls me at 3:00 am, demanding to know why was I on her ass! Bitch called me!
At this point I am beyond mad, and entering the absurd: leaving bed for
some piece of cheap ass, that unless grabbed there is going to be pounded by some street slum

a dubious invitation, and all along trying to make something out of an abusive and self-destructive dynamic.

Got to get out of there fast.

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