Winona?

Winona Ryder might be my wife.

I've always liked her since her portrayal of hot goth Lydia in Beetlejuice, and my taste in women definitely run towards the lovely, brunette and weird.

But after recently reading this on (don't judge me!) people.com*:

"Though single, Ryder would like to have children. "I think I assumed I would be married and have a kid by the age I am now," says the 35-year-old. "It kind of occurred to me for the first time last year: I actually want to go on and have kids."

And while her past boyfriends have included such famous men as Matt Damon, Dave Pirner of Soul Asylum and Johnny Depp, Ryder says she's still looking for the right man for her. "You know how people ask, 'Who is the love of your life?' God, I hope I haven't met that person yet, in a way, because I'm single," she says. "I hope I haven't had that, since that would be sad."

...I feel the wheels turning.

She lives in San Francisco now. She sounds like she's ready for kids and a commitment. She has similar concerns about her love life. And she's using gender neutral language like "that person" instead of a pronoun like "him".
Enh? ENH?!?

If anyone knows how to set me up with the charming Ms. Ryder, please do be in touch. Rest assured: I'm an excellent, and if need be, discreet, date.
It's just crazy enough to work!



*(Seriously though, that was the only time I've ever read people.com. Things have been strange lately and I find myself doing very out-of-character things sometimes. Which means I can definitely relate to Winona's shoplifting incident. Like for awhile, I was really entranced with the Britney Spears saga. But even writing that gives a warped impression of my interests; I don't even have a TV! If I sound defensive, it's because I am, I do not know myself to be a mainstream-celebrity interested person, and the only explanation I can give is that we all go through odd phases now and then and I guess I've been going to the nail salon without a book more often recently. I don't know. Bizarro.)

Crazy Love

Could you Love This Person?



(warning: spoiler, especially in the links)

Crazy Love: The marriage I will do anything to avoid.

One of the craziest love-abuse-marriage stories ever. Seriously. A reminder that at this point, falling off the 'crazy' wagon for me is a neutral-friendly email, and all those thoughts about flat tires and spray-painted windows and bottles full of piss and disemboweled abdomens stay in my active little head, while this world is really full of genuine wackos passing themselves off as human beings, and in this case, more than getting away with it. I feel like I'm crazy when I get to feeling like Mr. Tehn but actually I don't hurt people except for mutual consensual pleasure and money and have never once contracted anyone to throw acid at any of the people who get new shiny girlfriends. Not once. This movie may elicit some hatred of men, I must warn you, especially if you are susceptible to that anyway. Or it may just boggle your gender-neutral mind, completely.

Regardless, when Irene and I left the video store today I showed her the cover and she said: "Looks like you. Both of them."
And I don't deny it. In fact I feel like the above picture is an accurate portrayal of about 70% of my personality and internal image. I've got many little people living in this Mer-cat (including a beautiful and demanding Princess that hasn't held court in far too long; a nurturing Mommy who cooks, cuddles, and reads aloud; a dapper vintage cad with a foppish hat and roguish cane; and a little hobbling naked imp covered in snake skins and dried glue) but this double image of femme glamour and intense wacky creep makes up the lion's share. The Burt Pugach part of the picture reminds me a lot of R. Crumb, a figure I have taken to relating to more and more over the last year (but only mostly because I am a notorious pervert with similar taste in women). Note the -weeesque bow tie. The Linda Riss side is the fancy lady from my photo shoots, though in fact she was a very nice girl and a virgin until her 30's. We have similar eyebrows.

Though the resemblance goes a bit deeper than appearances, or more accurately, self-image.
So while the story of these people horrifies me, as components of the psyche, I am fascinated with them. More than that, I recognize them as my own. I relate to both the drastic obsession and the appeal of being loved fanatically. I understand the dark barbed lure of insanity, the seductiveness of passion untempered by reason. These days I channel that urge mostly into art and BDSM and also the occasional harmless rant in my living room. Not as romantic as a heroin addiction, but easier to recover from and probably more sustainable. This is a picture of boundlessness, in wanter and wanted. Rumi always puts it in terms of the lover and the beloved.

As usual I am, and want, both.