Fuzzy Navel Gazing

Here we are, face to face
A couple of Silver Spoons.
Hopin’ to find, we’re two of a kind
Making a go, making it grow.

I like hanging out with people who remember what it was like to log on to their Eudora account through a 2400 baud modem via Telnet to check their electronic mail. Many of those same folks remember what it’s like to have thick, red carpeting, fake wood panel walls, the joys of making your dad an ashtray in school, clicking off the pendant lamp in the kitchen with its 8 feet of chain and stuffed frogs playing pool.

I thoroughly enjoy listening to single women talk about dating, especially 3-minute speed dating, because apparently a woman knows within the first few moments whether or not you are a good match. ‘But can’t a guy grow on you?’ ‘Well, sure, you can grow to love a guy, but if it’s not there in the first 30 seconds, you’re not going to be really happy.’

I find it more and more difficult to get by in a world where Dooce and Defective Yeti and Tequila Mockingbird aren’t universally recognized. ‘Are those people?’ ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Are those their names? They sound like wrestlers.’ ‘YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME!!! YOU’VE NEVER UNDERSTOOD ME! THEY’RE PEOPLE, AND PEOPLE HAVE FEELINGS, YOU KNOW!!! OR MAYBE YOU DON’T!’

Whoa. Almost fell down a tangent and hurt myself.