There are pretty girls out there, some with singularly outstanding features (boobs, ass, skin, hair, lips). Or interesting, cerebral girls who could stimulate me in many ways. Girls with a life, maybe a few thousand frequent flyer miles to their names. On the same career level as me. Possibly even capable of thoughtful, sophisticated conversation. Fun in an unconventional way. Ideally they have something in common with me- Japan, animation, sushi/sashimi, Miyazaki, Richard Pryor. I see their profiles. I contact them. But they don't usually reply to me or want to see me after the first date.
The girls who contact me are like Orianna. A long string of flaxen-haired pretty boys on her pimped-out myspace page. (Tacky and overdone... like a teenage girl!) Writes what no mature person would say - "I speak four languages- yay!" and has to remind people "See, I'm smart - I told you so!" (If you have to, then you really aren't- see
Manouschka above). Trying really hard to sell herself. Brags about being emotionally stable and enjoys revolutionary pastimes like going to the beach and to the gym. Watches "independent" films... like "Gladiador [sic]." LOL Interested in international cultures and people as long as they're White and better-looking than her. (She even has a
Caucasian name - Alison.) Claims to know French but can't string more than two words together (not that her even less savvy myspace friends would notice). Half-Spanish and half-garbled Portuguese to go with all things Brazilian and hackneyed (the shabbier Latin Americans like to identify with sexy Brazil and Argentina).
But that doesn't matter when you can't get the girls you want to give you the time of day!
Unlike other girls, she was full of enthusiasm around me-
gushing about my good looks to even strangers and her spud eyes sparkling when she saw me. Most plain girls are like that at the sight of a rock star-god like me (
1,
2). Since nobody else online replied to my cheesy come-ons, I was happy that someone wanted to talk to me - my very own groupie! Now I know what Justin Timberlake goes through. I didn't even have to convince her that I was cool- being a fair-haired, light-eyed pretty boy was enough. We went dancing for a few weeks in the typically cheesy samba clubs that amateurish Brazilophiles flock to, sometimes with my work buddy Jason. She even added him to her myspace list but didn't seem too sad when he suddenly disappeared from it (she doesn't like the darkies). My psycho ex showed me some samba earlier (a whole crowd gathered around her to watch at the Temple Club) but I pretended that it was my first time with Orianna. I told her that she danced well (what do I know?). Plus, lots of eye candy at Café Danssa. It was a sad irony to be surrounded by all those sexy Brazilian girls - round asses like my recently departed psycho - but accompanied by a Latina discount diva (from the Valley). She had the flattest
bunda there (I notice these things). Puny Peruvian with ambitious heels. "Nice" but thoroughly conventional. Would stick out in more fashionable or stylish dens. Of course, I said she looked nice and sexy to be gallant. I do that to every girl (see
Jennifer,
Tess ,
even women I openly find frightful), especially to those who I think need to hear it, since I'm much harsher with my girlfriends (if you knew me long enough, you'd see this.) Kindness never hurts, even if it's insincere. No matter; I was happy just for the company, especially after being dissed repeatedly by the girls I contacted first.
Near her ghetto neighborhood we went to the same lively and authentic restaurant that the psycho introduced me to, so I can have my Pho Dac Biet. Or as Orianna calls it -- "sooooup"! LOL Good thing we didn't have
mechoui ("BBQ"???). I also brought her along to a couple of Sony dinners so that my coworkers would think that I was getting some action, even if it was just with a shabby girl from the Valley. Who brings a girl he just met online 2 weeks ago to meet his coworkers??? Someone with no friends, who can't get a date, that's who. I have to keep up the myth that a pretty boy like me can get any girl he wants. Too bad it usually is just
any girl. :-(
I thought we were dating all this time but she wasn't even interested in making out. To me, that's just affection- tongue wrestling, polishing my purple-headed storm trooper, practicing the downward facing dog. Any real friend would do that for me, I casually mentioned to an
ex-date (also one of the few who actually was interested in me). I mean, with me. However, she was flattered that a pretty boy like me - live, in the flesh - would want to have sex with her, so she insisted that we remain friends. Little did she know that I was desperate at that point. Three months after I stopped seeing my psycho ex, a pretty boy like me still couldn't get pussy!
So I lost interest in hanging out with
La Lastimosa, preferring to spend Summer 2005 indoors with my rigs and Sony PS and trying to date older women (hoping for the desperate horny ones). In July she forwarded me a fake match.com profile written by the La Terrorista. She found it "weird." Well, of course, it was- she didn't know that side of me, after knowing me only casually, hanging out for only 3-4 hours at a time, the last time a few months before! LOL So I told her that Marianna was just making it up and didn't know what was going on, plus was still in love with me (have to preserve the ego, you know!) Simple explanation for a simple girl. She believed me (these young girls!). LOL She sent me an email during Labor Day weekend, but I didn't have any desire to hang out with her. Instead I watched Tim's dog, Otto, while he was out of town. She would still email me throughout the Fall- she thought we were good friends by then (so American, these fast and superficial relationships), probably because I introduced her to my coworkers. I apologized for disappearing - what else could I do? She didn't get the point and kept emailing me. She posted numerous comments on my myspace page, like a starstruck school girl trying to get my blond, blue-eyed attention. I didn't post anything on her page- why should I? She continued begging me to have "soup" with her again. ("Pho," you dim Valley peasant). Or have coffee, walks on the beach- anything so she could gaze at my tawny hair and blue eyes (just like the others I had nothing in common with). "Soup" and blue eyes, that's how cultured my usual company is...
Even when I settled very briefly with a nice but dull girl, I wasn't dying to hang out with Orianna again. She sent me Holiday greetings and I replied out of politeness but preferred to stay with my thoroughly
emotionally stable "girlfriend." At least I got sex out of it. Plus she was a little older, had some semblance of a life. A woman. A boring woman. With big boobs. And a
student of medicine, not one enrolled in a low-rated state school.
Sigh. I can't seem to attract stellar girls, just thoroughly mediocre or conventional ones. I didn't introduce her to my lady doctor. Upon hearing that I was finally seeing someone, Orianna could only muster "Is she pretty???" (Typically inane- can you imagine our other conversations?) I didn't reply (more about that later). I would tell others that my "girlfriend" was nice, that's all. Orianna isn't much more than that, either.
If she were, I would hang out with her more often! As it is, I'm already looking for more "friends" online... again. Maybe they'll be closer to my age, with some life experience and a career, so that we have richer interactions and not just "nice" times. Maybe they'll be more compelling so that I'll see them more often, rather than just when I have no other company.
Other girls would get the picture after my disappearance of 6 months but she really needed a free meal and an escort on Saturday nights! And I'm the only pretty boy she has ever succeeded in meeting. Apparently her online profiles aren't too successful. Uninspired text. Her photos are cheap, grainy webcam shots from the same sappy angle, one even with her cheek resting on her hand, waiting for her unattainable blue-eyed Prince Charming to sweep her away.
Awwww. Besides, how interesting can a girl be when the highlight of her day is updating her myspace profile and adding more Italian Backstreet boys to her list? I mean, people with rich lives can attract interesting or like-minded people in real life and don't need to collect "friends" online, right? I bet she's even unaware that myspace is the butt of jokes in many circles. Ay ay ay, the psycho was right- you attract what you are. :-(
I would ask her to introduce me to her friends or cousins but I'm still at the nice and polite stage with her. Don't want her to think I'm a pig. I save that for my girlfriends, long-term and otherwise ("Wooaaaah, your friend has nice boobs. Would she be interested in a threesome?"). Besides, I prefer my women kinda slim. And educated.
As I told my mommy in an email (and as anyone who knows me more than casually has heard), "Latinas get too big!" Her friends and cousins are just as attractive as she is. No, thanks.
I didn't learn too much from her besides some samba, pagode and bossa nova. The clichés of Brazil, but cool to someone as green as she is. Plus all that music sounds the same after a while, anyway. At one point I pretended to be interested,
to be nice. But ask me now if I still listen to Marisa Monte or Jorge Ben Jor! I could've learned about Cinema Novo, Mario Japa, had an eye-opening convo about the
sertao, or tasted something besides
churrasco or seen Seu Jorge in concert but... that's not to be with an ordinary 22-year-old. I don't even like all that sappy Latin pop (ask me who I listen to). Typical for her age, not too much depth (not that I have much). I know it sounds like I'm complaining (as usual) but I don't usually attract dazzling girls- why not? Only
les petits mortels- little people - like papa says. I went from a girl who writes French poetry like an estrogenized Verlaine to someone who doesn't even know that Michelle is a French name.
But to her credit Orianna's a good listener and believes everything I tell her about that psycho and the rest of my life without question! :-) Critical thinking skills are
so overrated. She gladly tolerates my excessive complaining about Americans, women, dating, etc. Anything so she can gaze at my lovely blue-ish eyes. Did I say that she was only 22???? She considers me a good friend because I reply to her emails and we spend 3-4 hours "hanging out" every now and then when I have nothing better to do and no dates to rush off to (which is most of the time). She assumes I have many friends in town yet she's only met coworkers. As I told my mommy, I take her out to eat and we chat, that's all. "No sexual tension." Do I call her in the middle of the night to unburden my latest bête noire? Do I feel the urge to celebrate my latest career milestone with her? When I want to go izakaya-hopping is she at the top of my list for company? Would she appreciate an early morning marathon of Takashi Miike farcical-horror-musicals? ("That ees too weird, Mr. Mehdi! I no understand," she would probably say.) Or even Naruto (or as she would call it,
cartúns)? Do we talk about the latest unnerving NPR piece? Can she drive to my home or workplace without needing directions? NO WAY! haha I don't lend her CDs, DVDs or books - when will I see her next??? As with my last "girlfriend,"
ça me fait compagnie- she keeps me company- when I have nobody else.
At least Orianna learned "bizous" from me. Now she's looking for French-speaking pretty boys, since I shaved my head to get away from that look, and keep forgetting about her. If she learned a few more French words maybe we can actually have a decent conversation.
But when I can't get a hot date - or any date - she's good company and I can always use her to throw off my coworkers. She even drives all the way through 405 traffic to see me. (For obvious reasons, I won't go up there- she's not worth it. Why should I do any of the work? Homely girls will do anything for me, they're happy for any attention. See
above. Besides you don't have to spend more than $20 on them. What a bargain.) It's easier than seeing my old classmate, Jennifer M., or Atsuko, my lively former Japanese coworker - you know,
people I have something in common with, who've lived a little, with a passion in life besides myspace?? But it's easier to call Orianna. I like easy! She's not always up-to-date with my life (or email addresses), etc. and doesn't know me as well as someone who's spent consecutive days or whole weekends with me, sharing my meals and my bed, observing my highs and lows (including my vicious black moods in which I complain about her physical and other flaws), glimpsed my impolite and unguarded moments, my special trick to get the bowels moving, my shit-stained underwear - and she certainly doesn't know about my porn/masturbation addiction (in the shower)! - but oh well, she's got a pulse, no?? You may laugh but a few hours of casual company every now and then for lack of anything better is a friendship to me! (Just like Jennifer B., Sharda, etc. - but they got the point eventually and didn't keep begging me to take them out.) She's also good for squealing on my psycho ex's cyber-devilry. You know those teenyboppers with nothing going on, trying to ingratiate themselves with the only pretty boy in their lives!
Il eût mieux valu revenir à la même heure, dit le renard. Si tu viens, par exemple, à quatre heures de l'après-midi, dès trois heures je commencerai d'être heureux. Plus l'heure avancera, plus je me sentirai heureux. À quatre heures, déjà, je m'agiterai et m'inquiéterai; je découvrirai le prix du bonheur! Mais si tu viens n'importe quand, je ne saurai jamais à quelle heure m'habiller le cœur... Il faut des rites.
It's better to return at the same time, said the fox. If you come, for example, at 4 o'clock, at 3 o'clock I will start to become happy. The closer the time comes, the happier I will be. At 4 o'clock, I will get agitated and worried. But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is ready to greet you. One needs to establish rituals.
I see Orianna at just any time.
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These days, because of a mean-spirited and spot-on blog, Orianna deleted her original myspace page and created a new one, far from her original ditzy, pretty boy-crazy one with close to 300 "friends," trying this time to present herself as a normal, level-headed, mature person who just happens to spend too much time on myspace. Once again, her comments are full of ridiculously misspelled Portuguese and botched French. Makes you wonder if she really knows those languages. But her equally mildly educated friends don't seem to notice.
And, of course, she asked me to add her to my friend's list (gotta have one pretty boy, right?). I wouldn't have noticed or cared. And not surprisingly, she already posted a flurry of inane comments with broken links on my page. I inserted YouTube links, so she inserted them, too! See how original my "friends" are?? The much sexier girls who I just recently added haven't posted any comments yet. They're just collecting friends. Even if I secured a date with one of them, they would be unimpressed and not call me again, just like Lannsters, plus the other ones who went to the trouble of deleting me from their list. :-(
Orianna even added a picture of us from the "LA French meeting" (stupid little girl- that's LA French Quarter meeting- what do you expect, she only knows two words of French! I know, not the most appropriate company, but as usual I had no other options that night). Just wait, as soon as one of these skanks on myspace wants to hang out with me (hopefully less than 40 yrs old this time), I'll drop Orianna like a hot patata peruana. None of my peers with full lives from the "LA French meeting" is yet a friend, so I'll have to do with Orianna for now. She doesn't seem to have the perceptiveness to realize that I'm just using her as fall-back company, since she's so impressed with my looks. Girls her age (mentally and otherwise) are my bread and butter.
Oh, yeah- she also emailed Marianna "I want to keel you!".... I no like what you write. Too many big words- I only graduate from CSUN! I eh-speak francés muito bem, so eh-stop making fun of me!
Back to the beginning.
Orianna/Alison Vento, baranga ... the girls who throw themselves at Mehdi Yssef are from the peasant underclass
