rusolyasin [dot] com

In theory, I measure my words with unspeakable precision. 

In practice, I keep accidentally calling androgynous men by politely insulting titles like “ma’am” and “madame”.

We were mid-conversation, and we passed the point where it’s acceptable to admit that I don’t know his name and he remembered my name from 10 years ago when we allegedly met.  He told me my ponytail gets higher everytime he sees me.  I’m not sure what that means, perhaps it does.

Anyway, so as he listed all of the friends he has in Florida, as if I might know them all, I called him “madame”. 

From his quiet hurt, I might as well have stabbed him.  And, I still don’t know his name. 

xx

I think the guy sitting at dinner next to me earlier was tripping on shrooms or something because he swore to me that he’s met a saber-tooth tiger before and then started screaming “You fucking THINK you know how to party but you don’t fucking KNOW how to party.”  The last thing he said to me before we all said good night to each other was “I got sausages for my birthday.”

And last night, I met a body language expert at a party.  I didn’t know body language experts were real, I thought they were some kooky character invented by talk show hosts to give fake complicated explanations to minor details that otherwise have no meaning.  

People at the party confused a body language expert for a psychic and many wanted their minds read and futures predicted.  The body language expert (BLE) didn’t bother clarifying the confusion and proceeded to fortune-tell as my mind wandered to twitter.  

“This could be something I could potentially tweet about,” I’ve been thinking to myself lately.  However, I do not have a pet that does amusing things, I don’t notice the weather often enough to comment on it, and I would fail at inventive uses for hashtags so my Twitter would never catch on.  Muna iMessaged me and told me to have more confidence in myself.  I pep talk myself all the time.  ”You have talent Rusol,” I say to myself, “You could be an expert at something too.”

Anyway, I’m pretty tired and I should get to bed but I’d just like to end this with a picture of Michael Jordan’s Hitler-mustache in a recent Hanes ad:

xx

I haven’t blogged in such a long time.

But I have a fever and I think the flu.

So, I’ll do this later.

xx