The Electromagnetic Sword

WIN.

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:34:00 +0000

While I was on a date the other night, the guy's food came out before mine did. He said he didn't want to start eating before my food came out because he was worried I would blog about what an asshole he was.

That's pretty much the best thing that's happened on any date I've ever been on.

FAIL.

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:21:00 +0000

I was once in the end stages of sort of dating a guy (i.e. only sporadically answering calls and texts/not being able to hang out due to being "really busy"), when I got a text from him that read:

"It was nice meeting you last night. It's really cool that you're in school, and not drunk all the time like the rest of Austin."

At this point in time, I wasn't in school/was working a part-time job/was drunk all the time. Clearly, this text was not meant for me, unless it was some super evil and well crafted insult.

I indignantly texted back:

"What's wrong with being drunk all the time?!"

Oh Hai

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:19:00 +0000

I just realized that this blog has gotten over ten thousand hits, and that's absolutely nuts. Thanks so much for reading!

xo ashton

Top 5: Childhood Crushes

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 03:28:00 +0000

I was rewatching High Fidelity today, and it made me want to make a top five list. It also reminded me of the huge boner I had for Say Anything era John Cusak when I was a kid. Thus, top five childhood crushes:

1. John Cusak

I don't really remember anything about this movie, since I haven't seen it since I was a kid, other than it made me desperately want to marry Lloyd Dobler.

2. Big Pete

Little Pete was cute and my age, but there was just something about his constantly pining and whining older brother that I found much more endearing.

3. Atreyu

I feel like a total creep looking at this picture and writing this at my age now, but I just remember being wildly fascinated by Atreyu's perpetually open shirt as a child.

4. Desi Arnaz

To this day, my ideal boyfriend would be a hot Cuban with a pompadour because of this man and Nick at Nite. Can we please lift the embargo and import some of these??

5. Donatello

He was a cartoon. He was a mutant. He was a turtle. He was a cartoon mutant turtle, and I wanted him to be my boyfriend from ages 5 to 6.

Images no. 7

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 04:20:00 +0000

photo by Harry Benson

FEELINGS

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 03:43:00 +0000

The other day, I was lamenting on my super-secret-not-for-the-public-blog over how boring my life has gotten since my decision to "be nice". Being nice includes things like telling people from the beginning that I'm not boyfriendable, and that they shouldn't get their hopes up (which they always ignore), then dealing with the fact that they never fucking listen as nicely as possible.

My friend Alaina left this comment:

"Maybe you're not mean, and everyone else is just an idiot.

You can't help that, girl. "

You're completely right. Putting up with stupid little boys who wear their hearts on their sleeves and refuse to listen to reason was a ridiculous waste of time and energy. I'm not into "being nice" anymore.

Yeah

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 04:28:00 +0000

You know when you sleep with a really hot person, and you get to go "Yeah, I hit it."?
You know when that person isn't as cute a few years later, and it's more of a "Yeah, I used to hang out with that guy a long time ago."?

Can someone think of a clever name for that? All I've got so far is "Ashton's an asshole."

Navy blue?

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 04:53:00 +0000

While I was out Saturday night, some random dude bro type came up to hit on me while I was ordering drinks. Why that guy would pick me to hit on is beyond me. He should know he's not my type, like I would assume I'm not his (unless he's one of the ones who likes to bang "weird chicks").

Anyway, when he finally talks to me his line of choice is:

"If you choke a smurf, what color does it turn?"

Then he just smirks at me like a total idiot and waits for a response.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Despite my best efforts, I'm beginning to feel some small cracks in my faux finish.

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 02:43:00 +0000

"I warned them all from the beginning. I always said something along the lines of,
'I must advise you, I am stamped with an invisible warning.
I will not commit. I will never marry.' "

Alfie

Dinner and a Story

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 06:21:00 +0000

The other night, I went on a "yay we can finally just be friends again after that really weird sort of dating thing we did" dinner with a kind of sort of ex type guy. While we're eating he tells me a story that goes something like this:

"I met this guy like a month ago at a party, and he was telling me all about this girl he was into. He kept saying how much he liked her, and how she was really back and forth about things and didn't really seem to give a shit. Then I realized it was you!"

Awesome.

On Monogamy

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 02:31:00 +0000

In his most recent podcast, Dan Savage said, "We're sort of, when we make a monogamous commitment, declaring war on our own sort of sexual natures." It got me thinking about monogamy.

For a while now, I haven't believed total monogamy can exist. People cheat. It's massively hard not to. It may seem easier when you're younger (... or not), because those relationships don't last very long. Imagine waking up next to that same person year after year after year, and each year they're looking a little bit worse. Now imagine all the people that flit in and out of your life. People can stay faithful, but it takes more effort than many are willing to expend.

Politicos and religious zealots rip people from positions of power all the time over extramarital affairs. These same politicos and religious zealots are also b anging pretty young things, because just because they can. It's absolutely ridiculous.

We're animals, for goodness sake. How many animals mate for life?

Just sign it "V"

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 03:13:00 +0000

A bit ago I was going to write and entry on how I don't know any virgins anymore, and what an odd feeling that was. Fortunately, I was super lazy, and didn't write that. I recently met the epitome of what it is to be an 18-year-old, intentional virgin. Virgins like this always have a few especially annoying trademarks.

1. They plan weddings when they're super young/it's way too soon:
So this chick, "won't judge you if you if you aren't waiting for marriage", but she totally is. This, dear readers, is because she's waiting to marry a boy she's been dating for 8 months. Oh, and it get's better, THEY'VE ALREADY GOT A DATE SET. (Can you say "Way too soon"? I bet you can!) "I just don't ever want to be with anyone else." Uhh... you don't right now.

2. They don't count "other stuff" as sex:
I would like to point out that her definition of a virgin is that she hasn't had vaginal or anal intercourse. FYI people, oral sex is sex.

3. They freak out over porn:
Everyone looks at porn besides prudes and asexuals. You shouldn't "feel like he's cheating". Is his dick in someone else? No. It's waiting forever and a fucking day to be in you. Calm down.

4. They awkwardly mention sex a lot:
Actually, if I didn't know she's a virgin this wouldn't be so noticeable. Since I do, every time she mentions anything I just want to yell "You don't even know what you're talking about! Now be quiet."

5. They say the darndest things:
(This should probably be some sort of subsection under the last point. I just really want to quote her on one thing.) "How will I know if it's bad if I've never done it before?"

For the record, the answer is: Because it will suck.

On Teen Pregnancy

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 03:51:00 +0000

In the cafeteria of Georgetown High School, at the tender age of 16, I once noticed a friend not eating lunch. When I asked her why she wasn't eating she told me, "I think I might be pregnant, and am trying to kill the baby."

Teenagers are stupid, and shouldn't have kids.

Me at Seventeen, Josh Aiello and the Mating Dance of the Indie Rocker

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 01:17:00 +0000

Once upon a time I was a seventeen-year-old perusing Barnes & Noble, when I stumbled upon Josh Aiello's A Field Guide to the Urban Hipster. This book treats hipsters as wild animals to be observed, dividing them into families and then species, and makes comical observances of their plumage, habitat, etc. It was absolutely hysterical at the time.

Today, I picked up the book again and read a few passages. While it's become quite dated, I still found this section on the mating habits of indie rockers funny enough to share:

"Indie Rockers are sexually clumsy creatures. Their mating dance is an intricate yet ineffectual cocktail of lapsed intimacy, misread gestures, arcane trivia, and hero worship. It has been suggested that the species' heightened yet misguided intelligence often proves prohibitive to animalistic urges.

As a rule, Indie Rockers do not date. They fall in love, then break up through an often intense process normally set to particularly pretty and melodic music [e.g., Belle and Sebastian, Galaxie 500, Damon & Naomi, etc.]. These hipsters engage in a perpetual cycle of exciting new prospective relationships and awful, devastating breakups."

a mutual reason to pull versus a one-sided dying wish

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 08:10:00 +0000

Sometimes, when things end badly, we let the good parts of a relationship slip through the cracks. We let bitterness negate the things that should be remembered; the parts that mattered most. I'm just as guilty of it, if not more so, than anyone reading this now. Keeping that in mind, I'm going to muster up a few choice moments the predated various heartbreaks.

the three-page love letter
picnics by the turtle pond
all of those snow cones
dancing in El Paso
seeing a lightning storm from a cliff face
watching Hamlette howl and eat at the same time
the night we decided to wear matching outfits
8 hour phone calls
camping in Big Bend
driving to North Carolina on about 8 hour's notice
freckles vs. moles
foosball

I could go on, but it wouldn't make sense to anyone reading. Letting hurt feelings taint your memories is the worst thing you can do for yourself.

UGH

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 08:11:00 +0000

Tonight, I ran into an ex of mine.
Tonight, my ex was with some gross dude, who said, "If you haven't hit it already, you totally should."
Tonight, I lost my faith in humanity.

Blind Item

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 20:09:00 +0000

Which Denton pseudohipster has a thing for sheer, black pantyhose and emailing naked photos of himself? Imagine the gossip if those got out!

[I'm not going to get more descriptive than that, but I suggest you don't cross me again.]

San Marcos: El Dorado of Tail

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 01:56:00 +0000

San Marcos is one of my favorite towns in Texas. The place is stocked with cute twenty-somethings, who bike ride and wear those precious little cut-offs I love so much. It's also located about forty minutes away. This happens to be the perfect amount of space to hit it and quit it drama-free, but you could make the trek out to seriously hang with someone you actually like. Of course, I've always preferred the former rather than latter.

Smooth Transitions

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 04:26:00 +0000

"Dear Electromagnetic Sword,
I just recently started getting serious with a guy I've known for a long time. We really like eachother and spend a lot of time together. However, we have not had sex yet. We both want to, don't get me wrong, but to be honest, he is very....well endowed. I do not use that term lightly. I keep putting it off, but I know eventually, we are going to have sex. When this time comes, what do you suggest I do to prepare myself for the "big" event?

Sincerely,
your biggest fan"

I love when my friends send in questions, and sign them so nicely. (No worries, I also love when I get the anonymous ones too!)

Now let's discuss what to do about your BIGGEST fan. (Which I'm apparently doing as crudely as possible.) In this situation it's going to take a bit for you both to get the hang of sex with one another, so don't be put off if the first time or two is awkward. You have to figure out each other's bodies.

There are definitely products out there that will help expediate the process. Lubricants and response creams are probably your best bets. I don't suggest just grabbing some shitty KY off the grocery store shelf though. Cheap lube it the worst. I'd recommend Emerita products. They're all natural, and the company is woman-owned and operated. Also, the packaging for their warming lubricant, OH!, is fucking hot. You can probably find them at your local health food/vitamin shop.

Hope that helps!

And they say girls are crazy...

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 00:14:00 +0000

The last entry reminded me that I meant to post about the mass-texter.

I once casually dated a boy for two weeks, and he was a total headcase.

We had two normal hangouts, then on the third he busts out this poem he's written about me. I immediately refuse to read said poem, and it seemed like it was no big deal. A couple of days later, we're fighting about I don't even know what, he freaks the fuck out, starts crying and makes me read the poem. Then the next week -while arguing yet again- he randomly tells me he doesn't want to hang out for a week, but has fallen in love with me and is "two weeks away from saying 'I love you.'"

...

At this point I had to break it off. I can deal with crazy, but I'm not going anywhere near "I love you." sayers.

One thing I love & One thing I hate

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 00:09:00 +0000

Love:
Meeting boys who look like the guys you liked in high school, but were too nervous/awkward/shy to ever actually talk to, and having them obviously be into you.

Hate:
Still being on your pseudo-ex's mass text list for all his crappy concerts. I'd rather he delete my number than ever see one of those again.

Images no. 6

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 21:01:00 +0000

By Grace Berler

Dumb people are the worst.

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 04:25:00 +0000

You know that magical moment when you're chatting up some guy or girl, and they insist you trade numbers? You know how stoked you get when they start texting you as soon as you leave to find out what you're doing after? You know when they say "then" when it should have been "than", revealing that they are a total retard? You know how that makes you not want to have sex with them, and slightly uncomfortable with the idea that you ever did want to in the first place?

With Hate from New York

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 05:06:00 +0000

Once upon a time, I was dating this aging hipster. He had lived in New York for a time, like every other aging hipster has. Apparently, while we were dating, some chick from New York was still crazy about him (emphasis on crazy). After she found out we were together, she sent him all these texts about how she just wanted a boy to read Alistair Crowley with, etc, etc. When he didn't respond to those, she sent him mean texts about me. I guess she lurked me up or something, because I don't know the bitch. At some point she snapped due to him blocking her on aim.
That is when this happened:

her fucking boyfriend's sn: hello?
aging hipster: hi ?
her fucking boyfriend's sn: it's -----.
her fucking boyfriend's sn: i'm on [her boyfriend's] sn. you blocked me
her fucking boyfriend's sn: don't ever even try talking to me again.
her fucking boyfriend's sn: you're a completely fucking pathetic human being and i truly wish horrible things upon you. truly.
her fucking boyfriend's sn: have you nothing to say for yourself?
her fucking boyfriend's sn: whatevz. i'm going to myspace her. i'm going to hurt you. she won't want you after i'm done.
her fucking boyfriend's sn: i hope you get run over by a truck. goodbye.

I just found the file he sent me with that in it, and thought it was too funny to not share.

So, this nutjob did myspace me. She said all this crazy shit about him, proceeded to tell me off for whatever reason, then blocked me so I couldn't respond. Some bitches are nutssssss!

Also, all the aim and myspace in this story makes me not want to touch my computer for a while.

leftovers (noun)

electromagneticsword@gmail.com (A. Lane) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 05:38:00 +0000

Pronunciation: \left-oh-ver-z\

(My friend and former roommate first explained this term to me over glasses of Tito's vodka and those really good breadsticks that The Tomato made pre-burning down. I'm going to try and define it the exact way she said it, because it cracked me up.)

"You know those lame girls who stay super late at parties, after the cute girls have gone off to better places or to go have sex? Those are leftovers."

Synonyms: bottom-o-the bucketeers