the slack daily

Strawberry Crush.

According to  everyone, it's Blog Crush Day.  Alas, I cannot reveal a Blog Crush (minus my husband, of course) because I can't remember the last time I stopped to read a blog, much less develop a crush on it. Life has been sans commercials lately. Workworkworkpicketworkwritepicketworkbloggroceryshopwalkdogworkblogvlogwaitisthatmyhusbandwork.  I barely have enough time to pee.  So instead of actual content, today I'll just provide a few old photos that others have deemed crushworthy.

I can be further Flickr-stalked here.

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Now on to blog hatecrushes! She called me fat.  Purchasing her recently-expired domain name: dick move or the ultimate in nerd revenge?

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Don't forget! Will and I will be at Bar Lubitsch at 8pm this Monday, December 17th if any LA blogfolk want to come hang out, and see what a cheap date I become after working for fourteen hours straight! If you don't see us in the front room, make sure to check out the back (there's a room behind the bathrooms.)  Also, no matter what Will tells you, I do think handjobs are cheating.  Unless he pays for it, and then it's just business.  Feel free to email me for details.  (About the meetup, for handjobs you're on your own.)

Where Am I?

I am up in San Francisco avec my Consumating brethern, having people pour me all-you-drink-champagne.

slackmistress and keith!

I'm off to Alcatraz with a side of Alka-Seltzer. Flickr to update as the weekend progresses...

(Confidential Missive to Mr. Boy: Case of the Boy Withdrawal has commenced. Further communiqué to follow.)

Until it Wasn't.

Yesterday, I posted an "Ask Dr. Slack" thread on Consumating.  Someone asked me how Mr. Boy and I met.  I responded:

Mr. Boy commented on my blog one day. I started reading his, I thought he was funny and a great writer. He added me as a Flickr contact, IM'd me, and I asked him to come have a drink with me. I stressed that it was Absolutely Platonic. It was.

Until it wasn't.

Consumating is chock full o' Nerds (me, of course, being their Queen), and one of the Biggest Issues with Nerd Dating is Escaping the Friend Zone.  Predictably, the next question was:

Dear Dr. Slack:

How on earth do people achieve "Until it wasn't." ??

This question has been asked via text, over IM, and through email 387534 times since I made my little announcement.  So I'm going to share with you What He Did Right.

Escape From the Friend Zone

• Mr. Boy made it clear that he liked me, but wasn't creepy about it.  Well, he wrote me a creepy stalker poem, but I requested that.
• He didn't pressure me.  There was no "so what do you think?"  There was no expectation, no jealousy, no pressing to say it back or make any sort of decision at all.  He liked me, it was out there, and that was that.
• However, he also didn't become MyNewBestFriend, willing to do anything (drive me to the airport, express the dog's anal glands, loan me money) in an effort to show he Really Cared. This is the critical issue when it comes to staying out of the FriendZone.  You have to remind a girl that you have a penis.  Don't show it to her*, just remind her that you're G.I.Joe, not Ken.
• He was attentive, and showed he liked me, with compliments that were clever.  Being a Smart Boy, he knew I could be won by clever.
• Called me beautiful and meant it.  Yes, this seems rather silly.  It's embarrassing to admit to a public forum, but clearly I'm all about embarrassing.  The only other person who's called me beautiful is SlackDad, and that doesn't count.
• Wrote me The Best Post, Ever.

There were no whisking me off to places or opening doors or phone calls - in fact, the first time we've really spoken on the phone was last night, as he knows I hate to talk on the phone and respects that.  He was clear and upfront with how he felt, and although it was scary (it's always scary!) he made it known to me that he liked me.   

In the end, someone who's brave enough to do that is someone that I want to date. And am dating.  And am crazy about.

And that, dear readers, is how it was platonic...until it wasn't.

*boys, it is never, ever okay to send a girl a picture of your penis.  This makes you pathetic and sad, and we laugh at you.  No woman has ever been won over with a picture of the penis.  Srsly.

Thursday, Quickly.

A bunch of Australian kids call me liar liar pants on fire.

Continuing with the hotpants phenomena: Ben Brown, Consumating Founder gets a Wired Magazine's 10 Hottest Geeks nomination and me, avec my 60-plus nominations, does not? Although neither did ZeFrank . Still, go vote for Ben here.

Mr. Boy explains how he tricked me into dating him here.

When Bloggers Date:

backtobattan: What're you blogging about today?

slackmistress: I dunno, what're you blogging about?

More random Boy/Slack conversation, upon discussing someone that Greatly Dislikes Me: the worst part isn't that they hate me, it's that you just know they're not clever about it.

Also, Casa Fabuloso is shortly going to be with 100% more younger slackbrother j. Hilarity and hijinxs (and eBay purge of Stuff) to ensue. Also, note to self: fix headboard issue.

Happy Thursday, all.

Wired Magazine's Sexiest Geek...

The good folks at Consumating are helping me make a bid for Wired's Magazine's Sexiest Geek 2006. If you think I should be deserving of such an honor, please nominate me here.

If you do, I'll keep taking stylishly noir photos like this:

Or with my Mac:

Merci!

Nina Bargiel
aka theslackmistress
http://www.theslackdaily.com

Saturday Night.

The rest are here.

What did you do with your Saturday night?

Perspective.

(The above videoblog is available on Revver and can be found at YouTube here!)

slackmistress videoblog 4.0: the birthday party

Consumating's question last week was are you the rescued or the rescuer? I don't need to be rescued (unless you're feeling like you want to hand me $50,000, and then yes, thank you) but sometimes I have to be reminded that I have something to say. People have been reminding of that lately. So thank you.

Consumeeting weekends are hyper reality, part paparazzi and part theatre, but always a good time. I'm left tired and oversocialized but delighted that my electronic world and my physical world are coming together. My birthday party was the first chance for the people I know from my real life and my online life to meet. I was just insanely touched that they'd come out for me.

And they all had a little something to say...

The above video can also be viewed at Revver!

The Beginning is the End.

(Apologies to Imperial Teen.)

What a week. What a month. What a year.

The past ten months have been filled with what I can only categorize as False Starts. Projects that almost get off the ground, relationships bursting with promise that eventually just burst, opportunities close enough to taste but too far to actually grasp. My entire world would rise with each small victory and crash with each crushing defeat. I'd lie in bed, looking at the ceiling and wonder where did I go wrong? What's wrong with me?

I've wondered if there's some Grand Cosmic Reason that I'm going through what I'm going through right now. I was telling a new friend of mine I hate being a whiner, and I do. It's not that I want it to be easy. I just want it to be a tiny bit easier.

I must admit that I spend less time in bed wondering what's wrong with me? and more time thinking what's next? Some projects can be revised and taken new places. Some people just need time. Some things, well, some things Just End.

I'm 34 on Sunday. Birthdays always make me more reflective than usual. Last year I celebrated with an expensive bottle of champagne at Water Grill followed by a party with a house full of people. This year it's ghetto bubbly and...a party with a house full of people. The difference? It's my house. I'm making two airport runs to pick up two women who I didn't even know last year and now can't imagine not having in my life. My party will be filled with old friends, but a ton of new ones as well.

Last year you couldn't pick me out of the lineup. Now I'm EVERYwhere.

However, as I told the same friend, I'm feeling a bit rudderless. My sense of direction has always been terrible, but lately I haven't a clue which way is up. Maybe that's the point. Or as Princess Leia said

The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.

I've worked on lessening my grip on some things. And some things I've just let go.

I'm a big believer of putting myself on the line, of doing things that scare you, of just putting myself out there. So I guess I'll keep doing so. I'm curious to see what the next year brings.

Lucky and Unhappy.

With apologies to Air, I've been diametrically opposite of the above statement for what seems like months now. The Titanic is going down and I'm still playing violin.

Or I was, until about 2:30am last night, when I bolted awake and realized that I don't know how to pull myself out of this mess.

I wrote time and time again over the past few years, I just need a little bit of luck. Just one good thing. It didn't matter if it was small, just something unexpected. A sign, of sorts. I'm a big believer in creating your own luck, your own signs, your own good fortune. I come from the school of Don't Bitch About It, Do It. And so, with nose to the grindstone, I, uh, ground.

It's October 3rd. I am five days shy of my 34th birthday. I am panicked. I am poor. I have no plan. I am still working my ass off but I cannot catch a break, and the Chinese Water Torture that is my career is getting to be unbearable. And I adore you all, but if one more person writes me saying you write for animation, that's so cool! I will explode. I feel like I'm being constantly broken up with: it's not you, it's us. You're perfect. Don't change! We're just looking for a blonde.

Someone on Consumating asked (not prompted by me, shockingly) is there any question slack CAN'T answer with overwhelming acumen? It seems sort of silly that I'm giving advice to anyone else when my life is such a mess. It's not as if I can't see my own problems. Again, I'm working my butt off here. But the stress is beginning to take its toll. I'm thousands of dollars in debt. I'm not sleeping well. I'm broken out. I can't seem to shake this twenty pounds that crept up last year.

But the absolute worst of it is that I sit at the computer, looking at a blank screen, and wonder maybe I'm not talented enough to do this?

I must admit, though, that I'm happier this year with nothing than I was last year with everything. How sick is that? I blame you people.