Friday, September 23, 2005

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others

Ahhhh...the Smiths. I've always known that Morrissey was meant to be my soul mate. "The More you ignore me, the closer I get..." I think he's lived my life or at least had a bad dream one time about it. Sometimes, I imagine that Morrissey has written a song specifically for me....loveable losers who stalk people and have to sign up on internet dating sites to meet men...yep, it sounds vaguely morrissey-esque.

It's true. I'm back on-line. I took a little internet-love hiatus after a serious run-in with a deranged donald duck impersonator...but it's time to get back on the wagon. This time, I've decided to put all my cards on the table. I changed my profile to say that I am not a naturally thin girl but that I value strength and health and am working hard to acheive that goal...I think that's pretty honest. I also hope to avoid the anxiety of meeting someone for the first time by being painfully truthful. Not in a self-depricating way (although, if I'm being painfully honest, that is a problem of mine) but I think there is deep merit in telling it like it is.

Here is a sample IM conversation with my next internet boyfriend if I have my way:

DB (dream boy): Your picture is cute.
NB (NinnyBeth): Thank you. My thighs are genetically predisposed to cellulite.
DB: I love cellulite.
NB: I will call you 5 times a day and demand your attention, although it will be done in a completely endearing, non-scary way.
DB: I have unlimited cell phone minutes and never screen my calls.
NB: You should screen your calls.
DB: I like to be surprised.
NB: My family is moderately crazy but very close and supportive.
DB: I have no family of my own as I was raised by trained artistic wolves who were put to sleep after a particularly bad gallery show. I will learn the ways of your people and we will be as one.
NB: I like to have parties and will probably ignore you while I make the rounds, handing out cream puffs on toothpicks and flirting with party guests.
DB: Marry Me.

If the internet fails to yield this exchange, I am finding morrissey in his adorable cardigan and converting him to Mormonism (and overt heterosexuality for that matter). Then we may be hated for loving, but we will be happy together.

9 comments:

Tamara said...

These are good goals. I can't wait to meet DB...

Adrianna said...

You blog is quickly becoming one of the best reasons for me to get up in the morning. Huzzah....If you find DB, will you introduce me to his brother, uncle, grandfather?

Anonymous said...

Your picture is cute....

Just kidding, but seriously, I happened across your blog and became fascinated by you. Um, being that I have decided to exclusively take Mormon women as my lovers (since sex before marriage is forbidden leaving me in a state of perpetual asexual bliss) you seem a good candidate.
I'll be dreaming of you,
Steven Patrick M.

Ninny Beth said...

that's hot...I've always dreamed about leaving someone in a state of perpetual asexual bliss...that's why I started this blog in the first place. Want to be my new internet boyfriend? Then we can write embarrassing posts back and forth to each other...are you in SPM?

Anonymous said...

Well, since my initials are SPM, and I do believe in self love I guess I could be in myself. But not at the moment.
Here is a song that I wrote a few years back that expresses how I feel about this:

Nobody Loves Us

Nine times fined
Never mind
Things can only improve
We are just stood here
Waiting for the next great wound

And we just can’t wait to make more mistakes
And to fluff our breaks, and to stuff our faces with cake

All in all, imagine this :
Nobody loves us
Dab-hands at trouble
With four days of stubble, we are
Never loosen the grip on our hand
Call us home
Kiss our cheeks
Nobody loves us
So we ... oh ... we tend to please ourselves

People think all we do
Is lie around and think of how
Rich we’d be if we didn’t think
Life could improve

And we just can’t wait to make more mistakes
And we just can’t wait till the whole thing blows up in our face

Call us home
Kiss our cheeks
Nobody loves us
Dab-hands at trouble
With four days of stubble, we are
So, never loosen the grip on our hand
Call us home
Make our tea
Nobody loves us
So we ... oh ... we tend to please ourselves

Call us home
Tuck us in
Nobody wants us
Dreamers and schemers
All pie-eyed, and bog-eyed, and cross-eyed
Oh, never loosen the grip on our hand
Whack us, then
Hug us hard
Nobody loves us
So we ... oh ... we tend to please ourselves

And we just can’t stress, oh, how more the mess
And complete distress won’t make much difference to us

Sing us our
Favourite song
Nobody loves us
Born-again athiests
Practising troublemakers
Make us our
Favourite jam
Nobody loves us
Useless and shiftless
And jobless
But we’re all yours

SPM (Moz)

Jerry said...

me thinks internet dreamboy and lustybuxomblond are the same, not the in the same family, but the actual same person.
I imagine
Some deranged lunitic who has grown bored of reading the Twinkie packages and sits atop the internet waiting to shapeshift and flipflop like playdoh molded into some golden Adonis or DreamGoddess.
Yes dreamboy and lustybuxomblond are politicians.
Filthy demons.
and of course,
Morrissey is the tops.

luminainfinite said...

your blog is better than mine.

Ninny Beth said...

moz...your song reeks of britpop...are you from the UK? Should we be hailing you as the next supernova? do you have your own blog that we should all be oooohing and ahhhhing over???? Inquiring minds want to find you in cyberspace.

Adam said...

That was awesome NB.