A sign I might actually be smart? I can understand sentences such as this:

"Groups which can be recognized as having a culturally validated but subordinated identity, such as the young, blacks, women, rock-music fans, etc., will receive a greater or lesser amoutn of coverage according to their approximation to the mythology of the bourgeois."

Maybe it's just the use of the term bourgeois; it makes me feel all hoity-toity.


Awesome . Thanks Shawn.

I went out for a late-night drink with Ben last night. At the place we went to ("The Winchester"!?) there happened to be a table of drunken teenage couples (four kids in all) next to us. They were being dumb, and Ben and I were quietly mocking them. At one point, the drunker guy stood up and lifted up his shirt to show off his abs. I started laughing, and then told Ben, in French, what was going on. I don't normally use French as a 'secret' language, because I assume that everyone around me is bilingual, but it was fun to do at the time.

Over the course of the evening, we mocked the kids with our waitstaff, and the waitress who had intially served both of our tables grumbled something about how they'd only tipped her $0.75. Now, these kids had between them, a pitcher of beer, a pop, and a martini -- and martinis at this place are $6 or $8.

We finished our food and drinks, and got up to go. The kids had been up and down and wandering around and talking to people they knew on the sidewalk (since we were out on the patio, and there's a pedestrian walkway right beside us), and we figured they were wrapping up for the night. As we're leaving, drunken ab boy gets up into my face and lifts up his shirt again. I very calmly told him, "No thanks, I saw the show before, and I've seen better." He and his friends started getting all "ooh" about that, and someone said something about the "seen better" comment, and I said, "Yes, frequently," and off we went to drop in on Markuk's going away party.

If only the story ended here.

Ben and I decide to hop on a transitway bus, because the others that will get us home aren't likely running anymore (this is right around 1 a.m. -- we got started late). So we walk through the mall and out onto the bridge... when I remember the thought I'd had at our previous location: because it's now 1 (or close to), all the transitway buses are running where we were originally standing. So we either walk down to the university, walk up a ways to where the routes once again converge, or walk back to where we started.

I'm whiny (okay, I wasn't actually being whiny) and was wearing not-great shoes, so we ended up heading towards the university -- in time to see the one bus that will suit Ben pass by, towards the next stop (which was our original location). I mention that another bus that will work for him should be by any moment (same route, just different end points). We see a bus at the lights, and it's actually the same route as the one that just passed by. When we board, the bus driver says he's late, so he's not going to be following the usual route for the bus (I'm thinking he thought we might have wanted the bars or something), and we tell we're fine with that, and we're glad not to be riding with the drunks (usually more of an issue on the 1:30/2:00/2:30 routes, as the bars empty).

The bus picks up some people at the mall who hadn't gotten the memo about the late-hour route changes (something that's been in effect for a few years), and we realize that Drunky McAberson and his loud-mouthed girlfriend (she was the louder of the two) was on the bus with us. Fortunately, they didn't see us.

There also happens to be a girl on the bus wearing a neat hat. Ben tries to compliment her on it, but she doesn't see his thumbs-up. My stop approaches and Ben and I play a quick games of "things I won't be putting in a smoothie when I get home," and I get off the bus with the girl.

I compliment her hat, we agree that we prefer to (illegally) cross the bridge instead of taking the underpath (yes, that was deliberate), which is surrounded by blackness at night, and we end up chatting until we have to head in different directions for residences. I tell her about our drunken friends -- she asked if they were the ones making out on the bus. I say most likely.

I also called Ben to tell him I'd passed along his compliment... and I said I'd given her his name and phone number. She was cute! :)

Anyhow, time to grab some breakfast, toss the kitties outside, and hit the books. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to help out on the move, 'cause I have some serious studying to do. *sigh* I hate my procrastinating self... although I am almost done two different books. (Thena just put her paws on the keyboard and managed to hit my caps-lock key. Kitty wants to learn to type!)


Life is strange. I wound up sharing something last night with the guy I've been seeing for a few short weeks that I never told my ex- of about 10 months. Of course, he shared something with me first, which led to my revelation, but... it was still interesting.


I finally managed to get my pictures from my computer to my picture site. This has been a major endeavour, sadly enough.

Anyhow, there are only two, 'cause I wasn't worried too much about taking tonnes of pictures, but they can be found here and here.

As you can see, I had red hair and a double chin for the wedding. Also, while the bride was having a bunch of pictures done, I wound up as possessor of her flowers. Someone insisted on taking my picture at that moment, so now I look like a goon. :)
Weird head space the last few days. For now I’m going to blame it on PMS, but I think it’s too early for even that.

I feel as though I’m being ostracized by some people because of ending things with the Smooshy. I suppose I can’t blame the folks involved, ‘cause at least one of them is his friend and roommate first, and an acquaintance of mine second, but at the same time… urgh. It’s frustrating, ‘cause while yes, I ended things, and yes, that makes me the bad guy, I did have my reasons for it. The Smooshy has more or less said on many occasions that he agreed with my reasons for ending things, and has acknowledged that we’re not happy together, but…

Breakups suck, and they can really only be understood by the people involved in them. I’ve tried to keep my relationship with the Smooshy out of my friendships with other people, my friends included, because I don’t think it’s fair to put innocent bystanders in the middle of a relationship. The UBFM did that to someone who used to be a friend of mine, a long time ago, and it ruined the friendship between that person and me. I did it to Jay, when I was dating ex-boyfriend J, and it was unfair of me, and I’ve decided not to do it since.

Granted, I do talk to one or two friends about my relationship situations, since everyone needs a confidante, but I don’t do it that often. And the people I confide in are actually quite open-minded and able to see both sides of the equation – they’re likely much more open-minded than I, even if I can see both sides of things more often than I’d like to. It makes debating difficult sometimes.

I guess I have some guilt and some paranoia going on… I tend to do a lot of self-flagellation and guilt-amassing whenever I end a relationship, probably because I feel it’s expected, or because I’m being a bad person, so I have to compensate somehow. I don’t make sense of it, I just go through it.

And yes, for those who want to cast stones, I started seeing someone after the Smooshy and I broke up. *gasp* *shock* *horror* I know. That wasn’t the reason for the breakup, it just worked out that way.

So yes, go ahead and judge me. I judge me for it sometimes, it’s true. But right now I’m not dating this person for a hearts-and-flowers-forever kind of relationship. It’s light, and it’s comfortable, and it’s just less complicated and difficult than things became with the Smooshy, and that’s what I need right now.

Mind you, it seems the Smooshy is recovering okay, as he's rejigged his profile, possibly put another up somewhere else, and has had a date already.

Of course, I have all kinds of interesting paranoia and weirdness going on around that, but it’s fairly self-inflicted, I think. Either that, or my radar is going off as it did in past relationships… but if that’s the case, I’ll be okay. A little disappointed, but I’ll be fine.


Feelings are frustrating. I don't even know how to begin detailing just what it is I'm thinking and feeling right now. I want contact, but...

I had a dream the other night that was incredibly involved and detailed, and I think it would make an excellent sci fi story... I just need to figure out how to explain a few things in it. I also need to remember elements of it; it was very vivid when I first woke up, but less so later on.

The kitties were annoying last night. I dreamt I'd changed Venus' name, and then forgotten I'd changed it. I remembered at some point when I was at home, and thought, 'This is going to be confusing when I take her to the vet, and they call her (alternate name) and I call her Venus... especially after I called them to say I'd changed the name.'

I made cupcakes for my coworker's birthday, which was actually on Friday. I've discovered that Duncan Hines butter cream frosting is fucking crack cocaine, so if you see me next week and I've gained 2000lbs, you'll know why.

Time to shower; I'm feeling grody.


It’s official; I have to lose weight.

Everyone hush for a minute. In the last few months – since the end of my last class, in April – I’ve had three different people ask me if I was pregnant.

First: A classmate asked me, because the shirt I was wearing was one that early-stage pregnant ladies could wear.

Second: N’s friend K congratulated me on my pregnancy at her wedding. Okay, this is more mistaken identity than anything, but…

Third: Today one of the ladies in HR asked if I was the one who was pregnant. I said there were a few people on my floor who were, but that if I was, it was a surprise to me. She said she’d heard that I was pregnant.

Okay, so two of these are cases of mistaken identity, but it’s enough to give a girl a complex.


A collection of thoughts, mostly self-absorbed ones, that span the last few weeks. Welcome to a brain dump:

I have problems with emotions. I don’t know how it started, or when; I can point to instances in my childhood, but I can’t necessarily assign them blame. I’m just as I am, I guess.

I have difficulties telling people I love them. I’m not sure I’ve ever told my parents that I love them, and I don’t remember when they last told me the same. I’m not complaining or offering excuses; merely explanations at best.

How or even whether this has affected past and present relationships isn’t entirely clear, although it has led to my being called cold on two occasions – that I was present for. People are so kind.

Nonetheless, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again; I do have feelings. For the record, there is nothing in my life that is triggering this post, aside from a wandering mind and possibly too much time to think.

I started this with the intention of crafting a love letter, of sorts. Once upon a time, I was in a relationship. It became more than it was originally meant to, and eventually it ended. Not very well, but then again, these things rarely do.

I didn’t do a very good job showing this person that I cared about him; in fact, I think it very likely that I took him for granted.

Hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it? I’d like to believe that I’ve grown, that I’ve matured, but I find that unlikely. Maybe I have; I haven’t taken advantage of some opportunities presented to me… though I’ll admit to flirting once or twice, ‘cause I like it.

It’s interesting learning the perspectives of you that your friends have. I told a friend that I was out of the practice of flirting, and wanted to get back to it, ‘cause I missed it. I mentioned I’d been slowly getting back into it, and he said he’d noticed. He said when the Smooshy and I were getting more serious, I’d eased off, but it had picked up again in the last few months – a description supported by another friend. Even my trainer mentioned that I’ve been down the last while, and am now back to myself and more upbeat. As she said, I match my hair – which is now (and has been for about a month) red again, for those who are interested.

Wow, have I ever ventured off-course. This was meant to be a letter of praise, admiration, and even love for someone from my past (who’s unlikely to even read it), and look where it’s gone.

Well, since I’m already off-track, welcome back libido. I’ve missed you. Granted, this may not have been the most opportune time, but here we are.

People who express self-confidence are unusual to me. I’m not sure if it’s because few of my friends express their self-confidence in the same way, or if all the self-deprecating humour that I hear and make has coloured me, but… mind you, I think it’s the nature of our culture and society. We have a very difficult time with confident people.

I encountered it when I told the Smooshy I was a good writer. It’s not necessarily a sign of my ego – simply a result of years of compliments and a gradual acceptance. I feel I write well, but it’s hard for other people to hear me say that. I’m sure there are those who don’t believe it, too – which is fine. Writing is subjective, and I enjoy doing it for me. And you. :)

My mom told me the other day that I always jump into everything with both feet. I find that odd to reconcile with my image of myself as shy, timid, chickenshit… I’ve always felt that I’m terrible at making first moves, but maybe it’s time to let that belief go. Maybe I’m not. But I do know that I like to be pursued, and I’m fairly sure it’s because I hate the vulnerable/out-of-control feeling that comes from being the leader. Maybe I do get too emotionally involved too quickly… I guess I can consider myself lucky that no one picks up on it, given the number of people who’ve told me I’m hard to read, right?

And yet… apparently I also broadcast certain thoughts/feelings. Or maybe I’ve just met someone who can read me; which is a scary idea, regardless of who he or she might be – I like having secrets and, more importantly, privacy – says she who (semi-) regularly spills her guts on this blog.

I frequently mentally choreograph strip dances to music I hear, but I’ve never done a strip tease for anyone. I’d like to, but it would have to be for someone who finds me – and the idea of me stripping – really fucking hot. All or nothing, baby.

I’m trying to re-sexualize my bedroom, and on a greater scale, my life. I’ve gone off the pill, which seems to be helping with whatever depression/no sex drive issues I was having. I tidied up my bedroom yesterday – or least, did away with all the laundry – and I’m on the hunt for new bedsheets. I’m on my way to being a reformed nailbiter – I haven’t done it, nor had the urge to do it, since removing my fake nails. Maybe discovering people who really enjoy being scratched (I’m looking at you, R!) is helping that.

I also want to make more of an effort to buy more flattering and/or fitted clothes. I still have a lot of pieces that are great for hiding in, but aren’t especially becoming or trendy/grownup.

I’ve always found certain clothing, jewelry or body parts sexier than others. The nape of the neck, at least on a woman, is sexy to me; on a guy, I like the abs and the treasure trail, where applicable (some guys have a treasure forest). Running your fingers just under the waistband of a guy’s underwear? Sexy. Having someone trail their finger down my neck, or bite/scrape their teeth where my neck starts to meet my shoulder? Sexy. I had one long-ago boyfriend (the First Big Love) who would run his tongue up the back of my neck – very sexy.

Buttons are sexy. Having someone undo the buttons on your shirt, one at a time is a turn on – and much easier and arguably more convenient than pulling your shirt over your head. It’s a bit classier than having someone reach down your neckline to try to access your breasts, too. Remember – those things are attached.

I also think chokers and ankle bracelets are sexy. For the first, well, see above; for the second, I’m not sure why. Maybe because ankles so rarely get attention, and feeling an anklet there is a gently sensual experience, I don’t know – but they work best on bare legs. Under or over pantyhose just isn’t the same.

Being pinned up against a wall, especially with hands over the head, is also sexy. As is bondage and blindfolds, but I’ll talk about that some other time.

I was out this weekend at a friend’s place for a birthday party, and I was admiring my girlfriend’s daughter’s eyes; they’re a beautiful sold blue colour, with no other colours visible. My girlfriend and the birthday boy then started commenting on my eyes, saying how I had a gold circle around my pupil, and how cool that was. I’ve actually usually wished I didn’t I didn’t have that, as I find it takes away from the solid blue I think is nicer. At the same time, I don’t usually notice it, and I think it tends to disappear later at night, when my eyes are prone to lightening.

I had a friend say recently that I seem angry at myself. I’m not sure what to make of that, exactly.


I woke up this morning from a relatively long dream involving my First True Love. I ran into him in my old neighbourhood, where both of our parents still live, and he was with his folks when I saw him. He had also done some kind of pseudo-mo/fauxhawk with his curly black hair and dyed it yellow blonde, which wasn't exactly the best look for him.

We ended up back at his place, in the basement, where much of our shenanigans used to take place, and while he was teasing me, before his mom came down to watch television and interrupt our mischief, he mentioned something about how I was the girl with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

Odd dream, especially since I haven't seen him since OFK and I went to Toronto, and I don't think I've even spoken to him since then, either.

The (ex-?)Smooshy has started up a blog, and he passed along the address to me a few days ago. I've added it to my daily rotation, and he seems to be one of the only ones in there that updates regularly -- again, not that I'm allowed to say anything. I was speaking with him briefly yesterday, 'cause he needed some files off my computer, and he mentioned being hungover from a party the night before. His blog also mentions the party, and mentions meeting a girl at said party -- which doesn't surprise me much.

I know that I ended things, and I have a whole bunch of good reasons as to why, but that doesn't mean that I'm at the point of being totally fine with the idea of him with others. I think he might've been trying to get back in the habit of talking to girls before we broke up; I don't think he cheated on me, but I think maybe he was getting some comfort from chatting with girls that he used to flirt with, or something similar. A pre-ego sop, if you will.

I know he put it up there, knowing I'd read it, just as I write this, knowing he'll read it at some point or another. As I've vented about many times in the past, I really need to stop giving this URL out to people that I get involved with; it means that I have to keep censoring myself, both during and after the relationship. :)

Is it possible for someone to be the love of your life if there are others in your past you'd get back with in a heartbeat? Or does that second identifier only matter in that you'd only get back with the others if things with the current aren't ongoing? Never mind, short of explaining it all out, it isn't going to make sense.

Past time to get ready for work... and figure out how I'm going to fit in the schoolwork that I didn't do all weekend. But at least I got some cleaning done.


Sometimes I think I enjoy being a bitch a bit too much... (and yes, I'm being a double bitch by leaving the email address in... what can I say? Spam bots, rejoice!)

benderfresh@hotmail.com says:
hey there... how's it going ?
did You have a nice weekend ?
Aphrodite says:
not bad, you?
benderfresh@hotmail.com says:
not too bad at all...
benderfresh@hotmail.com says:
went to 2 birthday parties
Aphrodite says:
benderfresh@hotmail.com says:
so i'm a little slow today
benderfresh@hotmail.com says:
...almost in a suggestive state of mind

Aphrodite says:
How nice for you, I'm sure
bender says:
lol, thanks...
go ahead... try me out
bender says:
Aphrodite says:
Oh, you wouldn't like any of my suggestions
bender says:
no? why not ?
Aphrodite says:
I don't think you're adventurous enough for them
bender says:
bender says:
please try me out
bender says:

bender says:
no need to be shy
Aphrodite says:
Okay, well, just remember.. you asked
bender says:
yes Ma'am...
Aphrodite says:
Well, first, I want you to take the biggest flashlight you can find, and shove it up your ass. Then, I want you to fuck off and stop trying to get me to talk dirty to you -- I never have, I never will, and since I don't know you from a hole in the wall, I have absolutely no interest in ever doing it.
Aphrodite says:
Then, have a nice night.
bender says:
hmmmm... sorry about that
bender says:
i hope i didn't offend You
Aphrodite says:
You might have noticed -- this is MSN, not a XXX chatroom. Try frequenting the proper channels for shit like this, not harrassing strangers on your MSN list that you don't talk with unless you're feeling 'suggestive'
bender says:
sorry again
Aphrodite says:
You'd better hurry -- wouldn't want your mood to wear off.
bender says:
yes Ma'am, thank You, and i am sorry
Aphrodite says:
Stop calling me ma'am; I'm hardly old enough to warrant it, and I'm not playing along with your dominatrix game.
bender says:


All right, so I'm media-savvy and all, and I know it's a total PR ploy, but I have to admit, I like it:

PM fosters pets (in this case, dark tabby kittens! I love dark tabby cats).

I'm still waiting to see how you do as a PM, Stephen Harper, and we may disagree on some stances involving women (though again, that remains to be seen how it influences your politics), but I'm giving you and your wife some bonus points as people. I would totally be PM if I could bring kittens to my office -- 'cause you know that's the only thing keeping me out of politics.


Okay, judgement time. I need peoples' opinions on a scenario. Totally made up, of course. Call it a writing exercise.

You meet someone close in age to you. In conversation, the question of where you each attended high school comes up. It turns out that he attended the same arts school as someone close to you. Later, you happen to be hanging out with said close person, so you ask them to get out their high school yearbook in order to look up said person.

Nothing more is done about this, except for possible teasing about said picture later.

Crazy stalker behaviour, or normal/excusable curiousity?

Judge away.

More life updates later, including the one in which I describe the final days of the Jen-Smooshy saga.


In lieu of a proper update (I think the writer's block is finally ending, though), I present some poetry. See if you can come up with the author:

I sat next to the Duchess at tea;
It was not as I thought it would be.
Her rumbling abdominal was simply quite phenomenal,
And everyone thought it was me!

Yes, this is stuck in my head, whereas I can't get work or school subjects to stay. I think I need to go back to kindergarten. :\