“i like sheets that tell a story”

The guy they brought into do the library web site focus groups was this bearded middle-ager with an east Texas accent, a guatemalan shirt and Clarks, who spoke in this stoned dad/child therapist voice and made these real sly affirmative remarks, “that’s a very good point”, “well, you know, social animals all laugh”. I play this scene in my head where the two of us  like, go to Cici’s Pizza, and he’s like “Hmm, this 3.99 buffet is both tasty and a real value”. And of course, there was this article in the NYT Home section , which Brittany pointed out how awesome this dude Albert Podell’s apartment sounds. I forget how much I actually like dudes sometimes!

The real fallacy of the apartment article wasn’t just that they missed the fact that Albert Podell is living the dream, but that they mention a hetero dude  who fell in love with a girl because of her le creuset and antiques. YEAH RIGHT! I spend several hours a week looking at vintage enameled cast iron pieces on Ebay, and so I can say with authority that no dude is gonna love you for your $200 dutch oven. No dude is gonna love you (and by this, I mean, like Akon, “I wanna love you”) for your Kitchen Aid Mixer, either. (They will just get real pissy when you make them help you move, because that shit is heavy. And you in turn will get upset when they use your cookware to make mac n’ cheese and then use a too-abrasive scrubber to clean it.) Watching the food network and spending yourself into a hole buying fancy hausfrau shit (although enjoyable for its indulgence and the simple beauty of well-crafted objects) is behavior so repellent it makes being a cat lady look charming. If you do find yourself with a man who coos over your bourgeois domestic overspending, prepare for a life of no sex.

I mean, I think a lot about gender and how people adapt it to play their societal roles. But what does it mean when I sincerely wish to become a male senior citizen several times a day?