Kitty Power

Electra Made Me Blind


Your Seduction Style: The Coquette




You are a pro at playing the age old game of hard to get.
Your flirting style runs hot and cold, giving just enough to keep them chasing you.
Independent and self-sufficient, you don’t need any one person to make you complete.
And that independence is exactly what makes people pursue you.


Here we are again, back at the place where spring promise tapers out and we’re left picking up pieces and wondering what’s next. Believe it or not, I mean that a lot less depressingly than it sounds. The post-birthday season started off fairly rough. A lot of behind the scene things blew up in my face at once and I felt every second for my years dragging me down. It’s hard to get some perspective when you feel like things are swirling out your control, but I did what I had to do and feel better now. I also made a pact to turn over a new leaf and see where it’d take me. The jury’s still out.
The other week, I met up with The Director and brought him into my world a bit. It’s funny that we’ve known each other over a year now since we have next to no face time, but somehow it suits our personalities and I don’t sweat it. Besides that, at one point, I was supposedly working the criteria list pretty hard and he got “knocked out” of the running from the start. At 33, he’s the oldest to date and the gap makes me uncomfortable. I’m sure I’ve said before that it is one of those mental block things because I still look at myself as only a few toes out of being a dumb kid. I’m trying to convince myself that I’m a real adult compared to the masquerading one like I feel on the inside. I’m just kinda fumbling along and I’d rather be with someone who is living through that too. Yet everyone laughs at me that I should just give up and admit I’ve got a preference for those around or above 30 and stop with the self-denying angst. But I don’t! Most of the time… Anyways, strolling along with him that night only made me more obstinate. He called me a snob because I was raving about Prefuse before/after the show and corrected him (while worrying my tone would be misconstrued) when he said they instead of he. Then he said he could school me in film if he wanted to — as if a) it’s some sort of pissing match b) I’m 12 years old and need to be taught a lesson. And that I’m just a hipster because I spend a lot of time going to shows and events and that I’ve built up certain venue preferences. And besides that, what am I doing in NYC in the first place? I grew up here and should know better than to stick around indefinitely…since it’s never going to be as good as it was in the ’90s anyways! Fucking snore. Imagine my surprise to find myself at the receiving end of a lecture? I didn’t know my youth left me open for that. I could’ve sworn I already had a father? And we’re on great terms, so no Electra complex here. Jackhole.
On the other hand is The Brit, former dream come true turned eternal frustration. I’ve grown to remember why I avoid kids in grown up bodies just like me. We’re wishy-washy assholes with arbitrary thought processes. The Brit and I like each other, we’ve got all these similarities, but what does that really mean for anything? Not much. It’s a neverending circle going nowhere and I’m getting off that ride. Most annoying is that I’m doing everything technically “right” for a switch. I’m being a communicating grown up, but it’s just not working. Apparently, I didn’t start off sleazy enough, so I’m subject to whims and ridiculousness while he gets his head together. Erm…fuck off? Farmer strangely was the voice of reason with “he’s not even that hot. He’s really not worth the trouble.” Indeed.
Back to the drawing board…or not. More writing, less stupidity.

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