March is a time of Madness

Apparently this is the time of the year when I get it in my head to do ridiculous things. Go ahead, take a look at any post I’ve ever made in late March. And yes, I know I haven’t posted here in a very long time, but still. It holds up on Facebook and Twitter, too. Trust me.

So, the other day, in a zombie-like state, at the end of a long day, nearing the end of a long month, in which the pressure is on at work, and the OG Sonar Monkey is getting ready to graduate from high school, as I scrolled mindlessly through Twitter, I came across another silly March bracket: the Internet Boyfriend Bracket from OffSet. I may have spent the evening googling those competitors I do not know, talking about the advantages and disadvantages of the different pairings, as well as ranting aboutnoting various omissions. I may have posted about it on Facebook.

Then last night, the eponymous madness overtook me, and I started to rebuild the bracket. Bigger. Better. More ridiculous. Correcting omissions, sorting into topical quarters, then reseeding (Randomly. Mostly.).

Methodology

I started with OffSet’s collection of charming competitors (there were 28), then took suggestions from friends, family, and my own brain. I did some research, combing through my Netflix queue, my social media circles, my crush history, my daily activities, looking for individuals who might make an interesting internet boyfriend. Then padded out the original list until I had a fully mad set of 64 individuals.

I created a tag for each competitor to note their most famous or laudable accomplishment. Some of these tags are more specific than others: a particular role or action. Others are more general: a job, field of study, or place of employment. Don’t read too much into the tags. Mostly I just thought some of them were funny. 

Some broad groupings started to suggest themselves. The list is dominated by actors, but there were also musicians, writers, journalists, comedians, chefs, and a couple of ax-throwers. I didn’t think too deeply about this, but sorted them into four very loose categories.

Actors and Comedians

Actors and Ax-Throwers

Actors and Musicians

Politics, Science, and Public Radio

It occurs to me now that there are some perfectly amazing actor-musicians that aren’t in the Actors and Musicians category. There’s also not a single athlete. *shrug*

Concerns

I’m aware that the internet “boyfriend” concept is ultimately limiting in it’s single-gender focus. I have plenty of internet crushes who are either “girlfriends” or nonbinary. The idea of an “Internet Girlfriend” bracket sounds more unsavory, which raises questions about allowable and disallowable justifications in the gendered gaze. A topic for a more philosophical conversation and consideration perhaps. An omission to be remediated in a future March frenzy.

I’m also quite aware that there are a few people on the list that if I looked under their kitchen rugs, would reveal intolerable actions and attitudes. Disqualify them as you will based on your preferences and predilections. Or make a new, personalized bracket of your own. It was fun!

Anyway, Just Go Vote Now

A Unified Hammer Dialogue

Partner and I celebrate the nineteenth anniversary of our first date this week (I tell that sordid tale here, and quantify it here, but note that we are up to 19 years, 6 cars, and 5 high schools now). And by celebrate, I mean we talk about it and smile and remember how stupid we were, and how glad we are that our stupidity turned into something really awesome. No gifts, no special meal. Just retelling old personal jokes and the State of the Union Address. One joke in particular is strikingly appropriate to a remembrance of Pete Seeger, who died yesterday. This joke is a dialogue, initiated randomly, usually when working on a household repair or home improvement project. 

A (calmly, with distraction): I wish I had a hammer.

B (equally distracted, but polite): What would you do with a hammer?

A (with a shrug): I’d hammer in the morning. 

B (attention still diverted): Would you hammer any other time?

A (nonchalant): Oh sure, I’d hammer in the evening. 

B (mildly interested): Where would you hammer?

A (dismissive): Oh, all over. 

B (concerned): What would you hammer?

A (with sudden increase in volume and exuberant gestures — jumping onto the table with arms flung wide is not out of the question here): I’d hammer out LOVE between my sisters and my brothers aaaaa-AAAAAAA-ALLLL over this LAAAAAAND. 

[end scene]

I never said we weren’t ridiculous. Now, where did I put that hammer? 

Stacks of Gratitude, Day 1

It’s November. I’m grateful. 

Sitting here plotting in our pretend graveyard on this gorgeous morning, I am grateful for all of my Creative Instigators and the cool stuff they inspire and enable me to do. And also for butterflies. There’s another one! And another!

The pretend graveyard in glorious sunshine.

Weird Competitive Urges

At the grocery store I saw a trim lady in exercise gear. She was annoyed that there were no boxes of pre-washed baby spinach on the shelf, and decried this lack to the produce manager. She clearly exercises a lot (suggested in something about her jaw and in her jaunty cap made of moisture-wicking tech fabric, in a muted pastel color). In her cart she has a lot of Greek yogurt (single-serving containers) and a twelve-pack of Fresca. But no containers of pre-washed baby spinach. I am also wearing athletic shorts, so I feel unexpectedly competitive when I see her in the produce department and again in frozen foods. I buy more vegetables than I planned. 

Dinner with the Chef

I dreamt last night that Partner and I were on vacation with Tony Bourdain. We were floating in a giant swimming pool, full of other vacationers, including the kids, and presumably Tony Bourdain’s family. Tony Bourdain invited us to dinner, but Partner had some work to do, so he encouraged Tony Bourdain and I to go out to dinner without him. We had appetizers at one place. Dinner at another place. Cocktails at yet another, after being toured through the fancy new kitchen. And at each place, Tony Bourdain knew people.

It was neither obviously a sex dream or a food dream, but managed to suggest both. We debated politics and philosophy over tapas and tequila, alone and with acquaintances. The evening was full of flirtatious innuendo, but never crossed over into vulgarity or transgression. His friends made a few inappropriate comments, but I fought my own banter battles and managed to have a charming time with the notorious chef-traveller. Until I woke up.

All this is to say what you may have guessed, that he works too hard, but I have my own version of the tall, sexy chef. Flirty without being vulgar, intellectually challenging and funny without being tedious, and who isn’t afraid to spontaneously make fresh mayonnaise at a party.