the object of my meaning

I was im'ing all morning with my dear friend Non-Gravity and we were chatting about Slut Machine. When we were out having drinks the other day I mentioned that she was clearly having unprotected sex in her most recent post, considering that he pulled out to come. Since she has herpes as well as a habit of fucking strangers, I personally find the unprotected sex route, to be quite frankly, lame.

Hollywoodenflame (11:47:03 am): by no means am i just trying to judge and compare. i just have to ask, having been quite a slut in my life, when does the meaning come in? strangers fucking with their clothes still on? well, i hope it brings her happiness...that could help balance out the herpes
m***** (11:48:53 am): "when does the meaning come in" is a good measurement of anything
m***** (11:49:04 am): sex, career, dating, politics

Last night my friends and I had a lively picnic. The bottles of champagne multiplied and by nightfall they had transformed into bottles of whiskey. Those who know me know that I am allergic to alcohol and can't drink for shit. If I am buzzed I lack the ability to say to myself, "Back off! You are finished." Flash forward to this morning. I wake up in a fucking panic at 7am. My purse is missing, I have no idea how I got home...Agh. It was this total existential panic of omg! I am going to die and I am a horrible human being. I finally find my phone and can see that TB called me last night. Fucking. Great. Have absolutely no memory of anything past 8 to be honest. I am too embarrassed to ask him if I was an idiot and quite frankly I don't care to know either. I can just imagine that I was either a mean bitch or I asked him to marry me. It will serve me best not to even fucking dwell.

I managed to catch my mother on the phone in between meetings and she set my damn head on straight.

"Mom! I don't think I deserve to be happy!" She laughs at me. "Everyone deserves to be happy."

She stated that worrying about fucking things up leads to a self-fulfilling prophecy - because you are not living in the present, you will screw up the future. Basically though, if someone cares about me, they are going to have to take all the parts of me. Even the less glamourous ones. That's just it.

So I am thinking about this idea of meaning. In this culture of cut-paste, disposable disposables, up-grading, add and delete virtual friendships... "Where's the meaning?" Because the truth is that real friendships and real relationships fucking take work and time. And guess what - not everybody is into that these days. I have cut people out of my life, as I have been cut out by some others. I have had many meaningless liasons. I have had arguments stretch into long bouts of "we are not talking anymore and months go by and i have no idea how it got to this point but whatever i held out this long i am fucking right and i am not going to fucking be the first to apologize!" We discount others opinions wrapped and warped in our own self-righteousness which is inherently the complete opposite of righteousness. I'm right, you're wrong, and fuck you for voting for Clinton! It's a lot easier to add 1000 friends on Myspace than it is to maintain a few solid and real ones.

I got into a fight with a girlfriend when I was 12. My mother told me "Look, It's really easy to love, or be there for, or be friends with someone when everything they do you agree with and you like. But real friendships, true relationships are being there when the other person does or says things that you don't approve of, or agree with. That's what a relationship is."
Truly something that most people don't work at much these days. Look at divorce rates. They aren't so over the top because people were being abused or discovered mid life that they were really a fabulous drag queen at heart. I think they are probably more along the reasons of someone wanted to screw something else so laters baby, or wow, something fucking happened and we aren't going to work it out, work through it. Well, that's lame. People fuck up, will fuck up, will make mistakes throughout their life's journey. That's how people learn. You know, If they choose too.

So this morning I was still a bit drunk and was worrying that TB is coming back tonight and will break up with me. Because I'm a lot of work and 26 years of life can do some numbers on a girl. But like my mom says, If someone is right, and cares about me, then that's it. They wouldn't walk out the door. They wouldn't walk away.

In talking about Slut Machine I wasn't comparing being a slut and being monogamous. In fact, I don't think monogamy is for many people. What I am trying to get at is the meaning. When she writes about being trashed and fucking a guy for like 10 seconds with her clothes on...I wonder where the meaning is? It's the same way I feel about Peaches. I love her music for a bit, then I just start wondering if we can get past the - my pussy in yo'face- bit for a sec. Can we evolve as sexually empowered women into something with some substantial meaning?

Can we bring meaning into our sex? Our politics? Our career? Holy shit - into our lives?

How do we bring meaning into each of our days?

Can we touch one another with meaning? Can we put in that much work? Attitude? Emphasis?

Can we make our own lives as blessed, joyful and happy as they can possibly be?

In other words, can today be full of significance?