I Am Brilliant

Seen on a Xanga reunion page on the devil Facebook:

Anyone ever hear from transvestite rabbit?? I think that was her name. Brilliant woman.

Do you hear that, people? I am brilliant. Or at least I was brilliant, back in the day. I am fondly remembered as having been brilliant. What the hell happened to me, anyway?

It was good timing, finding out I was brilliant, or used to be, because I read this: A Man Told Me My Body Was “Too Wrinkled” for Him, and even though I’m younger than the woman who wrote it, the implications are clear. In this piece, a man near the same age as the woman in question informs her that he’s been “spoiled by younger women” and just can’t deal with her old-lady body. She responds beautifully, telling him to piss off and insisting that she loves her body. Admirable! Impossible!

I’ve now updated (or downgraded) my dating plan from “maybe next year” to “oh my god NEVER.”

Fortunately, I can fall back on my brilliant blogging and legions of former fans for the validation all humans crave. See you tomorrow. Or maybe later tonight.


6 thoughts on “I Am Brilliant

  1. Honestly, I do not know WHERE you find this stuff.

    That man has a sexual performance problem, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with wrinkly bodies.

    What I hate most about the cultural role of middle-aged women is I feel like everyone is conspiring to convince me I should feel miserable and ashamed and unhappy, because that is how middle-aged women should feel: miserable and ashamed and unhappy about getting old. But I call bullshit on that. I refuse to feel miserable and ashamed and unhappy about getting old, and I refuse to think that I can’t or shouldn’t enjoy sex because I’m a middle-aged woman, and I refuse to participate in any more conversations about clothing or diets or botox. Refuse! Hear me?? I refuse.

    I think middle-aged men are the absolutely worst demographic. The WORST. Too old to feel good enough about themselves to be forgiving of others, too young to have any real wisdom or sense of themselves, too tired from all the exhausting scrutiny and judgment they’re constantly inflicting on others to have any fun, and too full of their own self-importance to have an interesting conversation.

    They are the WORST. If you decide to start dating, I suggest you set your age limits thus:


    No one between 40 and 60 is worth dating. And yes, I recognize the hypocrisy, as a person of 45. I submit to you that *I* will not be worth dating for at least another 15 years.

  2. Pingback: Validation | ordinarybutloud

  3. Thank goodness OBL linked you in her post, because I haven’t been seeing any of your posts for awhile now. You just fell off my list of “blogs I follow” – seemingly for no reason. WTF? I was missing you and wondering why you’d stopped blogging. Now I’ll need to spend some time reading backwards. By the way…hi.

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