All kidding aside

I got some funny responses from my last blog. Relax. You can’t help it if your blog sucks.

On a completely different note, it’s interesting to me that everything in life involves some kind of compromise. It may seem simple to say, but it is profound as hell to me. The people who learn to balance and compromise their lives seem to be a shitload better put together than I am.

There is a sort of fantasy that I guess men must have about women, My own fantasies are too twisted for print, but I see these idealized Madonna/Whores everywhere in popular culture, so there has to be something there. We apparently want a woman who will have sex with us with relative ease, who will do kinky ass stuff with us at the drop of a dime, but who wouldn’t do it with any other human being on the planet. Unless, of course, we wanted them to and we could watch.

So, right away, y’know, just forget it. You aren’t gonna find that geisha prostitute virgin with the double jointed hips who will hold your hand when you have the pukes, so make peace with it and decide what your priorities are.

New York is a clusterfuck, to be sure, but the give and take here is obvious. I have never lived anywhere where the truth of this idea was more apparent. How much money do you want? Where do you want to live? How much room do you need? How many people do you want to live with?

See, the answers to these questions can’t be what you think they’re gonna be. Because all of the things you want become mutually exclusive. My poor sister made some decisions based on what she really wanted, and her whole life became the commute to and from work, the picking up a billion extra shifts, the nightmare of living hand to mouth. Now, she is realizing that she has prioritized these answers, and she’s gonna change her life into somethings she doesn’t want so she can have all the things she *really* wants.

I want to live, just me and my fiance. And, I want to have money, lots of it, money left over, y’know, all over the place. I want money all over my bed and I want to roll around in it. So, this aint happening, obviously. But I have discovered that my priorities are such that making money is way more important to me than I realized.

And you got to love that about a place. New York forces you to make decisions, to prioritize, and that’s gotta be the way you learn about yourself.

All right, this blog wasn’t all that funny. But seriously, it’s funnier than yours.