accidental feminist

This is the only pre-planned response I have in my catalogue… November 30, 2005

So “Gillian” called me back. Almost thirty minutes (exactly) after I erased her number from my cell phone.

We chit-chatted a bit and then came the below interaction. Editor’s (me) notes preceeded by “Ed.”

GILLIAN: I need to talk to you, about us.

Ed. This can’t be good.

ME: Okay.

GILLIAN: Oh, this is hard to say. I really liked our time together, but I didn’t feel anything romantic between us during our date.

Ed. At what point didn’t you feel that? The eye contact, great conversation, the long kiss? When?

I play it cool. And I also let a vaccuum form so she has to get out all her pre-planned stuff.

GILLIAN (cont): I had a really good time and I would like to get to know you and be friends.

Ed. I say nothing.

GILLIAN (cont): Hello?

ME: I’m still here.

Ed. She goes on about being friends and reiterates her point. Now, I am not one for canned material, but I do have a response for that. Here it is…

ME: Well, the word friend and the concept of friendship is really important. I think in situations like this “being friends” is a concilatory offering. Being polite.

GILLIAN: (On the defensive) I didn’t mean it like that, I just think you’re cool and I would like to be your friend.

ME: I’ll make you a deal. If you still feel - in a month - that you want to get to know me, dial my 10 numbers.

GILLIAN: Okay, that sounds good, I’ll call you in a month.

ME: Great. Okay, I need to get back to my writing.

GILLIAN: Okay.

ME: Take care Gillian.

GILLIAN: Bye.

ME: Bye.

Ed. I wouldn’t have played this scenario any different way. But it was disappointing that it turned out the way it did. If you had asked me how it would turn out, I would not have guessed this. However, I have to admire someone calling after a first date to reject the person they went out with.

–end–

how young is too young to apply to be a member of mensa? November 29, 2005

This is an actual transcript of a conversation between myself and Bassie Klein, age 4.

Me: You are a fuffer-nutter.
Bassie: No I’m not, I’m a Bassie.
Me: But you’re also a fuffer-nutter.
Bassie: No, because I know another Bassie and she’s not a fuffer-nutter. So Bassie’s aren’t fuffer-nutters.
Me: Bassie, do you even know what a fuffer-nutter is?
Bassie: Yes.
Me: What is it?
Bassie: (completely deadpan) Someone who fuffer-nuts.

Silence

Oh my God, I think, my daughter is a freaking genius! Eat that, Noam Chomsky!

(Later when I asked her if she knew that what she said was funny, she responded, “Of course I did. How could I not?”)

What I really wonder is if there’s a plateau in sight or if it just keeps going, because I’m not going to have anything to offer her soon.

I met a Lisa

From my posting recouting last weekend’s activity, I mentioned number closing a girl named “Gillian.”

Here is my assessment of tonight’s date with “Gillian.”

This girl is amazing. She is well-spoken, thoughtful, attractive, tough. She’s also 21 and in college.

Although I read her pretty dead-on, there were certain impossibilities to penetrate. Whether or not someone says they are “open as a book” the truth (or fact) may prove otherwise.

At the end of the evening, as we left the bar - searching for separate cabs, while she was talking about something (to be honest, I was only thinking of the following) I grabbed her and kissed her. It was really nice, and soft and we were both a part of it.

Her comment, “It took you long enough to get up the nerve.”

My mind exploded.

Thankfully, I’m witty enough to hold my own and I came back with something that made sense. More thankfully, a cab came so I wouldn’t have to talk any more. We kissed again goodbye. She said, “see you soon.”

I said, “Will I?”

She said, “Maybe.”

I’ve got nothing.

Earlier in the evening I asked her to rate herself as a kisser and she said 9, then 8.

On my way home, I sent her a text that said, “I give it an 8.5 rating.”

This is what I got back: “Funny, cuz that was nothing.”

Genius. I was (and am) speechless.

There’s no text message I could send back that would enhance the situation. Fighting every instinct in my system to retort, I am going to give her the last word. For now, at least. Should I? … huge debate.

I am not sending her a text back. The plan is to call her tomorrow.

Girls, you have it easy. All you have to do is be mean and guys will follow you anywhere.

Smooches,

Eats

pleasant surprises November 27, 2005

My brother and sister-in-law like to google random things sometimes. And while once in a while it might get them into an uncomfortable email relationship with a transexual who wants to revert back to his original gender and undergo Orthodox conversion as a eunic, it also produces gems like this. Check out the “big finale”. And enjoy.

Walk the Line vs. Rent

WTL= Johnny Cash
Rent= Lame artsy a**holes in the East Village

Point WTL.

WTL= Joachim Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon sing all the songs themselves.
Rent= A bunch of Broadway a**holes sing the songs themselves.

Point WTL.

WTL= Man in Black
Rent= People with AIDS

Point WTL. (Not that I’m not sympathetic to people suffering with the disease, but this was just a farce. It should have been called “AZT! The Musical”, for God’s sake!)

WTL= Subtle but strong message of how art emerges when one accesses and channels pain.

Rent= Overt yet unconvincing message that we’re all just “renting” our time on this earth, and with each other (altough, because I don’t have AIDS, like everyone in the film, the message was lost on me).

The Grand Winner= Walk the Line. And not just because Rent sucked.

Go DHS!

I have just lived through the milestone that is the “10th High School Reunion”. All in all, a good time. Here’s some highlights, in no particular order:

1) John convinced me that he really is the dumbest smart guy I know, so pressure’s off (come and claim your posting rights, Adjunct Professor Engelhart).

2) The Weiss Brothers were a joy, as always. Quite charming. I have a feeling we will run into each other again in the post-MBA world. Let’s all (read: you and my husband) make a lot of money and not sell our souls.

3) Lots of straight-ironed, dyed-blond hair. Not that I’m not a fan. You looked great, girls!

4) Everyone’s in graduate school. even the one’s who ditched in high school to smoke pot on the Back 40. Just shows you how far socioeconomic status takes you in this world.

5) Ed was a maniac! Love you, man. Don’t ever change. You and Yosef need to go out sometime without the wifey’s and be ridiculous together. I appreciated your respect for my “mothering skills”.

6) Had the most absolutely pleasant conversation with Alison Kaden. Period.

Okay, if I didn’t metion your name, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy seeing you, but more that I’m not one of those “tell-all” bloggers who recounts her day from her first trip to the bathroom to what she ate for brunch. Or maybe I just don’t want to cheapen our encounter by turning it into consumable media. So just assume it was lovely seeing you all, and if I gave you my number, use it.

I do have to offer one more “shout-out” to Rolfe and Joe, who (it’s unclear which one) seem to have been in part responsible for the spike in readership to accidentalfeminist in recent months. (Joe likes the movie reviews.)

D-H-S! D-H-S! Whoo Whoo!

this stuff gets better when you teach it November 22, 2005

In high school, I just wanted Holden Caulfield to “grow up” and “stop complaining”. Now that I’m teaching it, I actually empathize with his ambivalence as to the nature of growth, change, and maturity. I also find it funny that this book has been sublimated into the sterile bowels of mainstream education. Now that, Alanis, is what we call ironic in the biz (the “biz” being, for these purposes, secondary education).

I also stand by my claim that “Taxi Driver” is almost a scene for scene retelling of “The Catcher in the Rye” (Sunny…Iris…come on people!). However, after being teased by my wise co-workers, I chose not to show the film to my Sophmores.

Please someone make this for me… November 21, 2005

Here is a recipe for something that sounds good.

Whoever makes this for me PLEASE DO NOT add raisins.

Bread pudding
2 cups half and half
1 15-ounce can pure pumpkin
1 cup (packed) plus 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
10 cups 1/2-inch cubes egg bread (about 10-ounces)
1/2 cup golden raisins

Caramel sauce
1 1/4 cups (packed) dark brown sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
1/2 cup whipping cream

Powdered sugar

For bread pudding: Preheat oven to 350°F. Whisk half and half, pumpkin, dark brown sugar, eggs, pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon and vanilla extract in large bowl to blend. Fold in bread cubes. Stir in golden raisins. Transfer mixture to 11×7-inch glass baking dish. Let stand 15 minutes. Bake pumpkin bread pudding until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 40 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare caramel sauce: Whisk brown sugar and butter in heavy medium saucepan over medium heat until butter melts. Whisk in cream and stir until sugar dissolves and sauce is smooth, about 3 minutes.

Sift powdered sugar over bread pudding. Serve warm with caramel sauce.

Makes 6 servings.
Bon Appétit
November 2000
Wildfire, Oak Brook, IL (Where the recipe originated from)

–end–

Maybe I spoke prematurely… November 20, 2005

I went back on a call last night - the call was that I was going to take a break from going out, meeting women, things of that nature. Although my intent began innocent, Eats came in full force.

A delightful tapas dinner began the evening, some friends + friends of friends. Several pitchers of sangria later we parted company, them to a blues bar, me to Wicker Park-ish to meet another set of crew members (with another group to appear later in the evening).

From my perch near the pool table I spotted a two set, with a really cute brunette. I opened them going via the friend (who was very nice) and was persistent, phase shifting, keeping them laughing and being this charming guy who was “on his way back to his friends.” I was social proofed big time by some folks who walked through the door - not close friends but people I knew from school, who were happy to grab me another drink. Thank you to them! Eventually, I went back to my friends, but not before I asked “Gillian’s” relationship status; which her friend told me near the bathroom.

I said goodbye to my dear friend Smokes and his boys and gals and made my way out. “Gillian” was a tough cookie, and when I said exchange numbers she said, let me just give you mine? Why?

Gillian: Because I may not call you, but I’m pretty sure you’ll call me.

Eats: My kind of girl.

Then I was out the door.

Next stop was to meet some co-workers at Hide Out, which I had never been before. Great place, loved it. These guys are awesome: talented, funny, the whole works. And we all LOVE talking to girls.

Hide Out is in Nowheresville; Elston and Wabansia. In a warehouse district, and I think in an old house. It is really cool. Great alternative crowd, funky, punky. My kind of people. People that are interesting to talk to, enjoy having a good time. And there is dancing there. And I love dancing.

We talked up everyone in this bar, danced with the folks we wanted to and had a great time. “Dan” and I spotted a two-set that was a part of a larger group. Two real cuties, maybe early 20s. Great dressers. Girls who know how to dress in a way that reflects their personalities are winners in my book.

One of my goals in going out with a group of guys is to get them girls. Pairing them up only increases the value of the group, inspiring more girls to come by. And I like to get my friends some female attention.

We owned our corner of the world.

And then I hear my name, which makes me both excited and fearful. It was “Jessica.” She and I worked together a number of years ago, and was checking out the club with some friends. She was all hugs and smiles and it was great to see her. It also social proofed me again.

It’s quite possible that by my birthday I will have met over a hundred new people. I’m thinking a big party on Saturday, March 18. And all of you are invited.

So, we are doing our thing, meeting women, dancing. I am having a few more drinks than I had planned at the beginning of the evening, but c’est la vie. That two set we had visited earlier has grown into a full-fledged birthday party. I kept on trying to get one of them, who “Dan” liked (and was a real cute one) to come and dance with us. We had a girl in our group (one of us) dancing, so she should have been okay with it - but she stayed with her group.

Finally, the evening at Hide Out was winding down and I was looking to exeunt. On our way our I went up to her and played a similar comment and asked how we were supposed to get in touch with her again. She gave me her number - which I had to write down, and I am not down with that, generally - and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

We rolled.

Next stop was Underbar (Western and Belmont). I had never been there before - three new bars in one evening (wow!). It’s a late night place, also punky, but definitely some yuppies.

The first thing that happened once we sat down was this girl “Diane” exclaimed my name. As per previous, I get very nervous. But “Diane” happens to be wonderful, a new friend (and a friend of an old friend). She came up and gave me a huge hug, which only made life a lot better. Then another girl came up and hugged me, although I wasn’t the “Mike” she thought I was. Then we got into an argument about it. And for some reason, when someone wants to get into an argument with me about who I may or may not be.

Underbar was more about trying to navigate a crowded small area, and own it. I got the email address of a girl for “Dan” but struck out with a law student who I was really, really connecting with. To be honest, I tried to get her number too publicly and it probably freaked her out. I’ll add that to my list … must have privacy to get #. But she was cool.

Here are the highlights:

- “Diane”
- This obnoxious girl and I yelling at each other
- Getting licked in the face by a strange dude (it social proofed me, it was in front of the law student)

Great evening, two numbers for me; one for my friend. Not bad.

I rolled in at 5:00a and immediately passed out.

—more soon—

heads up, folks! November 19, 2005

After twice being asked why I offered to help a woman cheat on her husband with another woman, I have been compelled to foward the following disclaimer: please note the name of the poster for each posting. Eats has kindly offered to be the symbolic male voice on this here website. Let’s give him the aknowledgement he deserves.

Strangely, none of you have asked me about my knitting just because Lee posts on here (although I guess you’ve determined that it’s much more plausible for me to involve myself in bisexual bar love triangles than to knit a cell phone holder…duely noted, fair reader).

Let’s keep our heads in the game, people!