So, yesterday- for the first time in many many many months - I saw a guy I could describe as somewhat hot. Dario, of course, thinks he is in constant competition with basically any well-built black man or anything remotely attractive. I really don't know why. It's not like I am particularily good looking. In fact, compared to most New York women I am quite a hunch-back, so my worries about D getting swept off his feet by a foxy lady should be exponentially higher than his fears of handsome men with any interests in my humble self.
I wonder, why it is that it makes us feel good when we are desired? Is it a socially conditioned thing?
Personally, I find men most attractive when I don't know them very well, yet. Of course, they have to first fulfill the initial criteria of fitting my attractive-male description, which most of them just don't. This is why Dario has absolutely no worries, for the only men I really find hot are one or two movie-stars, thus basically an illusion.
This blog entry is so bad, I want to put a stickie on my back with the note "former blonde but still dumb". And this joke was so bad I shouldn't be allowed to blog. But hey, everybody can have a bad blogging day, right? ... I am still getting used to the American keyboard and the English language...after 3 weeks on vacation in Austria.
What I really want to do is photograph, anyway... so I should probably get started on figuring out how to set up a photoblog.
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