And part of me, of course, wonders how much lightening up I need. Remember to always believe your worst critics. They might just be correct.
And critics are important since sometimes it's difficult to tell whether you're too light or too heavy. Then again, it's difficult to tell a lot of things about yourself sometimes.
So perhaps it's time for the lighten up hotline.
You know, the anger hotline took off like hotcakes. Of course, it's turned out that I'm the anger hotline.
Of course.
And I've been receiving a steady transmission of amusing little anecdotes from friends and noboo visitors alike. They all start basically the same:
"I really could have used that anger hotline this weekend!"
That's the point where I just feel amazement at the fact that anyone actually reads noboo. And while I'm being amazed but trying to maintain my Cool Hand Luke poker face, the person continues.
"I was at my friend's house..." or I was on my way to my friend's house... or I was thinking about going to my friend's house....
And then I hear the story.
And I smile. And nod.
And I ALWAYS say that I would have been mad too.
Because you know what? That's all the person wants.
So far, nobody has requested analysis or explanation. So far nobody has initiated a diatribe against the offending party. So far nobody's taken more than the four allotted minutes to paint the anger-instigating picture.
In my experience so far, it's just been really simple and really fast. Just a basic "this is what happened" followed by a simple and fast exclamation of how angry the person was followed by a pause.
That's what I call the confirmation pause.
In offering the confirmation pause, the person is asking for my agreement that they were right to be angry.
And I give pretty good confirmation. At least I think I do.
And I try to be passionate.
"Oh man!!!! I can't believe that happened to you!"
"J-e-e-e-e-e-z! How did you d-e-e-e-e-e-e-l with that?
For cryin'out loud, Baby Jane, what did you DO???
On the other hand, I try not to be too passionate. I don't, after all, want anybody to realize I'm a total fraud. That would compromise the integrity of the system. And god knows the integrity of the system's shaky enough as it is.
But I am a fraud. Here I am confirming the reasonableness of other peoples' anger when I can't even feel my own.
Luckily, nobody has yet to ask me for actual anger advice. They only want to vent for their four allotted minutes and then get on with their lives.
And hopefully nobody will turn to me for advice on lightening up.
'cause I am clearly the wrong man for that job.
The right man for the job of advising on lightening up would certainly have had a different reaction when SufferForArt IM'ed today.
SufferForArt. What a nice guy. I've known SufferForArt for years.
Well, maybe it was just a few hours.
And, actually, I'm not so sure whether SufferForArt's a nice guy.
All I know is that SufferForArt wanted to IM me. He had perused the profile I maintain on an internet dating site for research purposes only.
SufferForArt found much commonality between our hopes and dreams and desires.
Actually, he may have just found opportunity in the fact that I'm a girl and he's a boy.
Either way, SufferForArt wrote to me.
He wrote 'hello' and nothing else. Always a strong start.
"Hello" has - at once - that intimacy of knowing one before knowing one...and that obliviousness of not having read even one word of the other person's profile.
Hello is the perfect starter for an intimate, oblivious techno-relationship.
So, like an idiot who's learned absolutely nothing from her internet dating research, I responded.
"Hey Suffer, you sent me an email but it was empty."
I added a smiley face to soften the keyboard's blow. Didn't want to appear critical. Just letting the Suffering Guy know that he had given me nothing to work with.
Six emails later, SufferForArt and I (a.k.a. Too_Stupid_To_Live) had established that he had, indeed, sent a hello. And that I had, indeed, replied with a hello. Blah blah blah.
And apparently SufferForArt believed we were flirting. Because the next thing I got was the probing question:
"What does 'Athletic and Toned' mean?"
Okay...you may wish to skip the following bit of 'letting it rip." At the very least, you should consider yourself warned.
This is the point where I sound like I deserve to be alone forever.
When I checked off 'Athletic and Toned' on the internet dating "Appearance" section, I thought I was being pretty clear. I assumed that athletic means I look like I participate in athletic endeavors. And I assumed toned means I look like I'm not too flabby or mushy or oatmealish.
I thought 'Athletic and Toned' was kind of self-explanatory.
Prima facie, baby.
And I'm just so damned dumb because I should have stopped the interaction there.
Let me repeat: I should have stopped the interaction there!!
I should have realized that a guy whose first questions regarded the physical probably isn't as big a fan of the intellectual as I am.
I should have realized that a guy who probes your physical description - despite the presence of actual real-world photos - is probably looking for a little mid-day titilation.
But, like I said, I'm dumb.
And so I responded.
I told SufferForArt that I run a bit. And swim a bit. And bike a bit. I told SufferForArt way too much. And then, in the history of intimacy we had established, SufferForArt told me too much.
SufferForArt had some creative ideas regarding steps I might take to avoid certain physical and sexual bodily reactions if I were to see him.
Yeah, folks. SufferForArt sent me a dirty IM.
My response was brief.
"BYE"
After all, I didn't want to be rude. No reason I have to come down to a dirty pervy's level.
While I proceeded to research the steps necessary to block SufferForARt from any further entering of my laptop, I received an IM.
"I was joking. Don't you like to joke?"
The block took effect just as I deleted the IM.
And then, in that magical airwaves moment it takes for the block to actually stop the incoming emails, I received the final contribution from SufferForArt:
"You need to lighten up."
The wierd thing was that I had actually been feeling pretty light thus far on this particular day.
I had already joked with a few strangers. And I had shared some yucks with some closer associates.
And, just to make sure the day didn't pass without some measure of cheap flirtation, I had offered my favorite coffee clerk a birthday quickie in the back with a woman twice his age.
I do believe I did my share of lightening up the world today. I do believe I had been light, damn it. And I think anyone manning the light up hotline would have agreed that I was light enough.
So maybe I don't need a lighten up hotline after all.
But it occurs to me that I might have some suggestions for SufferForArt if I were to engage in IM with him ever again.
But he's blocked. And my laptop is once again safe from the forces of evil and IM-porn.
Still, I'm thinking about starting the Hello hotline: a resource for guys who just don't know how to break through that tough internet ice without getting blocked.
This hotline's not for Suffering Guy; this one's for the nice guys out there who aren't sure what they can say or what would work in a favorable way.
I'll encourage nice guys to refrain from mentioning any physiological processes involving the transmission of juices or dramatic change of bodily temperature.
And I'll suggest that the guys assume the normal, everyday definitions of words such as 'athletic' and 'toned' and 'attractive' and 'professional.'
And I'll provide - free of charge - as many alternatives as possible to the words 'interesting' and 'unique.'
Through the resources provided by the Hello hotline, nice guys on the make can more effectively catch girls with specific descriptors like captivating, scintillating, dynamic and dreamy.
"I'm impressed that Your interests are so diverse."
"Your spirit and passion are a breath of fresh air in the stale corridor of the web."
"You sound like you'd be a good partner for a long drive without a map."
"Your choice of profession and your religious leanings suggest a compelling juxtaposition of structure and chaos."
And for those guys who just don't believe they could ever catch the attentions of a Too_Dumb_To_Live such as me, I'll offer the really good stuff. I'll offer them a sample from my personal stash:
"SUBJECT LINES THAT ACTUALLY WORKED"
Because despite a guy's gaurantees that my juices will flow uncontrollably the minute I lay eyes on him, the promises that have actually grabbed me were far less confident.
Yes, it is true. I had no choice but to go out with the guy who guaranteed that I wouldn't go home hungry.
And going out with the guy who guaranteed a few good laughs without any visits to an emergency room or police station was a no-brainer.
But what really proved successful in hooking me was a very nice guy's promise that - no matter what - he'd prove he wasn't worthy of me.
I won't tell you how unworthy he turned out to be.
And I certainly won't tell you the lengths I went to in order to conduct the most comprehensive and fair investigation.
All I'll say is that when all's said and done, as good it sounds to have juices running amok, there's just nothing like a good challenge to lighten things up.