today i am rocking the smarmy crushgrin like nobody’s business. but the best part, or maybe it’s the weird part, i’m not sure. but the part that’s different is that i am currently not crushing on anyone. well not anyone new. i’ve been crushing on a dorky westernerd for the better part of a year, but that’s not a real crush, that’s an e-crush. other than, nothing.

but i am giddy today. i think it might be because, well, life’s been pretty good lately. which of course means i will be hit by lightning later tonight. but for right now we revel in the giddiness. i think it has a lot to do with writing class that starts on thursday. i am so excited for this class, and not just because of the vodo. i’m more excited for class, beause i just love it. plus, kelly’s gonna be there. and that rocks mightily.

i am in that ‘all is full of love’ mood, which creeps out most everyone i know. they’re more used to bitter and sarcastic and not joyful and huggy. this, of course, just feeds into the mood because it’s so much fun to creep everyone out.

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for instance, i am listening to jeff buckley’s cover of “Hallelujah” which is probably one of my top 10 favorite songs that is not sung by paul westerberg. as soon as i hear that exhalation at the beginning my heart immediately starts to beat differently than it was beating 10 seconds before the exhalation.

so anyway, jeff buckley’s on and suddenly i start thinking of this guy i knew a long time ago whom i called mr. hannah.

mr. hannah was one of many e-lationships i had with men i had met on the internet. mr. hannah lived somewhere that was not here and after a bit of time decided he simply must meet me (this sort of thing actually happened quite a bit more than one would probably imagine).

so mr. hannah flew into MPLS to get a gander at a 6’5″ supergenius. when he got here, he had brought me Jeff Buckley’s “Live from Sin-E.” this in turn made me think about all those other men who decided that they had to fly here to get a gander at a 6’5″ supergenius and the stuff they brought me. and what follows is a list of some of the stuff i have been given from men i was in some sort of weird e-lationship with:
pop tarts
a trix bobble head
about 29,018 mix tapes/CDs
the clap (ha! just kidding, but i couldn’t resist)
a stuffed mickey mouse
a superman magnet
a secret love letters kit
a vibrator
a bunch of books that they thought i should read, that never took into consideration my actual taste (which another discussion in and of itself)
lots of flowers

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i was thinking about the number of sexual partners i’ve had. i’ve been having a conversation (via e-mail) with a friend of mine about the Great Dumping of 2005. i had told him a little bit about what had happened and the reasons the ex-groomzilla gave for the dumping. he said some pretty cruel things to sister #4 about sex and how she should read cosmo because she’s bad in bed. i told him how instead of going spontaneously deaf with talk of my baby sister’s sex life (or lack thereof), i made a joke. “well,” i told her. “if that shit’s hereditary, you don’t have anything to worry about. because i’m amazing in bed.”

it got the laugh i was after.

one of the things that lead to the Great Dumping of 2005 was a talk about sexual partners. specifically the numbers game. allegedly, ex-groomzilla lied about the number of partners. sister #4 pushed him for the truth. i guess he gave a new, revised number but wouldn’t give specifics. she was infuriated and hurt by his lie and his unwillingness to give more information. things kind of snowballed from there, culminating in his deciding that he didn’t want to marry her.

in our e-mail discussion my friend asked me my magic number. i forgot to answer. why? because i really can’t remember. i’ve told him before. we’ve had very frank and honest discussions about sex in the past. but i honestly cannot remember the number and counting them up always depresses me. not because the number is too high or too low, but because i inevitably always forget one and the fact that i always forget one (or two) just makes me feel bad. i went through a slutty phase in my mid-20s when i decided i was going to be the fuck and run girl. when you’re the fuck and run girl, sometimes you run away so fast that you forget that fucking occurred before the running.

i’ve decided, after all this Great Dumping Hooha, that i’m not going to play the numbers game with anyone i want to be in a serious relationship with. there is no winner in the numbers game, ever.

everyone i know doesn’t like to play that game, and yet so many people play it. why? is there anyone who is perfectly happy with their number? i can’t decide what the magic number should be. would you be creeped out if your lover’s number was too high? too low?

should the number be in direct proportion to your age? is it acceptable for a 33-year-old woman to have 16 lovers? how about a 23 year old? what if you didn’t lose your virginity until you were 21, should your number be higher or lower than someone who lost it at 17?

see, this is getting too much like math and math, it is not fun*. sex, however, is – as long as the only thing your adding up** is orgasms.

*incidentally, this reminds me of a conversation i was having with sisters #2 and #4 saturday night. for some reason we were talking about sex education and american’s views on sex (because this is a perfectly logical topic to discuss at 1:30 in the morning). sister #2 was talking about how sex education seems to be all about terrifying teens out of having sex.
“it’s all AIDS, STDs, you’re gonna get pregnant,” she said. “and of course the kids figure out that it feels good. sex is fun. sex is best when it’s one on one.”
“thank you george michael,” the stink said, his back to us as he was reading something online.
of course i think that ended the conversation.

**also speaking of adding it up, sister #4 has decided that her theme song for the Great Dumping of 2005 is the violent femme’s “add it up.” which to me is somewhat ironic.

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since i’m still a little shaky from my latest heartbreak, i’ve decided to throw myself into the Supergenius Headquarters Beautification Project of 2005. of course, i’m about half-way through and bored. which means that i’ll either take a nap and leave the headquarters half-beauitfied (Which means that the stuff i framed this afternoon [which has been waiting since christmas for framing] will sit on the floor in frames for another six months) or finish. i’m leaning towards the nap.

naps are good.

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so after having an utterly fabulous lunch with FFJ that invovled cream cheese puffs and orangey orange roses, i return to find this e-mail from sister #2 waiting for me in my inbox:
“Max is drawing a picture of the two of you. He is also writing a poem called the ‘Ode to Jodi.’ It’s really cute. He is working so hard on it.”

and sometimes i think he’s right, i won’t ever get married because he really is the boy i love the most.

P.S. The new official favorite song of the supergenius is “Hey Man (Now You’re Really Living)” by the eels. you should get this song right now.

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