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    Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
    Showing posts with label men. Show all posts

  1. Men and Bugs

    Tuesday, August 17, 2021


     




    A few days ago, I awoke due to my bladder.  Opened my eyes and saw a dark moving thing on a box.  It was a water bug.  Before I could scream, the phone rang.  It was my closest friend who is a man and doesn’t share my hysteria.  I gave him a play-by-play as I picked up a fly swatter and smacked the water bug.  It landed on the floor.  It was on its back and struggling to live.  As it moved, I screamed while holding the phone and the swatter, “It’s trying to live!”  I felt so awful as I hit it again.  It shot across the floor near a pile of my poems.  It looked dead.  My friend and I hung up since I had to pee so badly. 

     

    When I returned from the bathroom, I didn’t see the corpse where I left it.  Now I was worried that it was crawling around somewhere.  I put on my sneakers and got dressed.  I decided I had to stomp and let creatures know I am the boss here.  Then I saw that water bug crawling again in my foyer near the bathroom.  I couldn’t believe how strong this thing is after being beaten.  I took a wine bottle and put it on the water bug.  The bottom of the bottle isn’t flat.  It curves up and makes an air bubble.  I then felt awful that the water bug was going to suffocate to death.  But I couldn’t deal with any other way of handling it.

     

    Later, I saw my buddy and updated him on the water bug situation.  He laughed and asked if it will stay under the bottle for a year now.  I said, “No. Just until you come up and get rid of it for me.”  He laughed and said that he will. 

     

    20 seconds and hilarious!








    Love to CGG-M  ❤❤❤

    Mindy Matijasevic

    August 2021

    Posted by Mindy Matijasevic at 8:36 PM | Labels: , , , , | 4 comments | |

  2. Men of Interest

    Tuesday, September 3, 2013

     

     
     
     
     
    These are some men who I’d be interested in knowing more personally.  This is only a selection of a bigger list.
     

    Some are dead.  (This would include my father.  We only knew of each other.  I was fortunate for my first eleven years to have a grandfather who cared about me.)

    Some are gay. 
    Meet the black, gay, badass pacifist mastermind behind the March on Washington who is finally getting his due.

    http://mojo.ly/1dMMtmr
     

    (Author James Baldwin helped me to begin to understand some of my own relatives and what being white means to them.)  
     

    Some are gay and dead. 

    Some are already in very committed relationships.

     
     
     









    (Since LA Law, don’t let me get started.)



    Some do not know I exist. 
     
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4LkrQCyIz8&list=PLE48027E5C354CC0E&feature=player_detailpage
     

    One thing they all seem to have in common is their feminism (as you may know, making life right for all women ultimately means a better life for children, men, animals, and the planet). 

     

     

    I respect those who oppose and are sickened by oppression in all its forms and define manhood for themselves.  (I respect and thank God for a woman for the same reasons, opposing oppression in all its forms and defining womanhood for herself, showing all of us more choices.) 



     

     
    
    
     

    Back to the men.  I could be on someone’s list too whose interest I am not aware of.
    
    
    
     
     
     

     

    Posted by Mindy Matijasevic at 12:00 AM | Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 comments | |

  3. Penis-Free Era Continues

    Tuesday, April 2, 2013


     
    My penis-free era is going strong.  My buddy advised me to find someone good enough and not to talk with them too much because there’d be a good chance the guy will be an asshole, I’ll get turned off, and that will end that.  He always makes me laugh.

    I am admired by those already spoken for.  I wonder if I give off a mistress vibe.  Some of these men had a chance with me when they were free.  But now is when their interest peaks.  Don’t worry, wives.  I didn’t want my husband, and I don’t want yours.  If they were single, a couple may be up for consideration.  But they aren’t.  Then there are some single ones who are just not a good fit though they have some appeal.  On one hand, if they only have some appeal, there’s little danger of getting all involved more than I care to be right now.  On the other hand, I didn’t go all this time penis-free to be with someone who is only somewhat appealing.  Hence, the penis-free era continues.
    Men and women often don’t even speak the same language.


    Our self-images are often distorted.  We aren’t even starting out on equal footing.

        
                                         
    There is a married man I’d like to date IF he were single.  He’s passionate, unafraid, smart, not threatened by intelligent and willful women, and has a wonderful sense of humor.  That would be my man Joe.


    I saw my ex recently as he and our son took the dog out for an afternoon.  I try to do my very best to keep things civil for our son’s sake.


    I find that for some straight men, they are totally defined by not being a woman and not being gay.  It’s ironic because ‘woman’ means ‘not a man,’ yet we don’t spend all day grabbing our tits or checking our ovaries to make sure we didn’t suddenly lose them and become a man while we were distracted.  Maybe it’s the ones I meet, maybe they see me and get overly testosteroney, I don’t know.  In all fairness, I had a woman once falling in love with me and she was like that too.  I must draw them out.  I still have learning and growing to do.  I do know this.


    There was a man who I had some fire with, it seemed, but something was awfully lacking.  He’s a smart person and passionate, yet he seemed to have a gap in his growth regarding the opposite sex.  (I know, I know, some of you are thinking yeah, yeah, what’s the point, they all have that gap.)  This gap was bigger than what I am/was accustomed to.  My ex-husband was sexually compatible with me.  Not humanly compatible, so sex ended, but for the years we had it, it was typically very good for both of us.  (If he ever reads my blogs, no matter how much else I might say, he’d feel very proud that I give him and his dick some credit for their performance.)  Anyway, this guy with the serious gap was only an on-line acquaintance.  So anything sexual was via the written word.  I don’t use a webcam or Skype.  I still like not having to look good to be in my living room.  
    There are some things that were good the way they were.  The first time we spoke on the subject, I was quite displeased.  As time went on and after voicing what I found so distasteful, I thought maybe it was like a bad first time.  Like someone having a premature ejaculation or something.  His mind jumped too fast.  I let a second chance happen.  He began too far down the road.  I asked him to start earlier in the story.  He got defensive, we argued, that ended that.  I thought there was hope for the third and final time.  He knew I had wine and he told me to pour a glass.  I did and let my guard down to some degree, getting all cozy for what I expected to be a good time.  He spent too much time on what I consider silly and it felt uncomfortable and not sexy – names and checking with me if he may call me this and that, names I don’t find fitting or natural.  It felt like he was uncomfortable and worried about offending me.  But he worried about the wrong things.  He went from pet names to insertion.  Whoa.  I said, “You are skipping over everything I might like.”  He told me to pour more wine.  Wine is good, but it isn’t lubrication.  You’d think he’d have read some articles or a book or something, but it felt like he learned from male-made porn films.  In those, we are not real humans.  The first time I watched male-designed porn, I really gagged and I cried.  The second time, I just sat puzzled at how this could turn anyone on.  Basically a woman drives into a gas station, and then she’s having sexual intercourse with the worker or rather he's just doing it to her.  No anything.  Just gets out of the car and his dick is in her.  It was the only sense I could make of his gap.  I tried to work with the guy.  I said cock was not yet welcome.  Many would have picked up on the 'yet.'  It just wasn't going to work.  He’s talking wine, and I’m thinking, “Wine?! I fuckin’ need chloroform!”

    Posted by Mindy Matijasevic at 12:03 AM | Labels: , , , , , , , | 7 comments | |

  4. Under That Pink Skirt

    Tuesday, November 27, 2012


    Most of us are multi-taskers out of necessity, so I’m really glad there are many things that happen automatically that I don’t have to think about, like breathing and my heart beating, blinking and swallowing, digesting food and being a female.  It would be so exhausting and consuming to have to be constantly establishing how not a man I am.  Imagine …
    “That’s right I’m a woman; I’m menstruatin’ right now!  Yo, can you spare a pad?  Oh thanks.  You’re a doll.  No lesbo or anything.  Just thanks for the pad, girl.  ‘Cuz I’m a woman and I don’t go that way.   I’m a woman; these are real (points to breasts and then adjusts them exaggeratedly).  That’s right.  I ain’t no dude.  I’m menstruatin’ big time.  So don’t get any ideas. Why ya gotta stand so close to me?  I can hear you from over there.  No lesbo.”
    There are so many times I want to tell a man to relax.  Nothing will fall off.  Some are really so driven by this need to remind themselves how they aren’t gay and they aren’t a “bitch.”  Besides their disclaimer “no homo,” my young adult student also told me about the disclaimer “pause.”  I asked, “So if you are kind to another male, you have to say ‘pause’?”  He nodded.  I told the class that if a man goes home with another man and has sex all night, I don’t think that pause button is going to work.  Everyone laughed but the one I meant it for. 
    I’ve been taken for the opposite gender several times in my life, and I found it amusing.  So why is it such a thing, I wondered.  Then it dawned on me.  It’s the same thing with blacks and whites, gays and straights, etc., etc.  They’d be afraid of being treated the way they treat us.  Being thought of as childlike and cute or ugly and worthless, a bitch or a slut, being harassed as we go about our daily business and endangered by those lacking self-control must not seem very appealing.  And so some scramble around, holding their package while baring their ass, calling us bitches and complaining about not getting pussy. 

    A man I know, who does not fit that description at all, doesn’t doubt his maleness all day either.  He has other insecurities as we all do, but he doesn’t obsess about not being gay or not being female.  It’s a given.  He assumes his dick is still attached and doesn’t use one hand to cup it all day.  And when a bunch of women he knows wanted to dress him up as a woman for some kind of costume party, he was fine with it.  He’s not very feminine looking; his features are manly, and he is quite hairy.  They had fun trying.  He looked funny and not at all like a woman, more like a man in kooky clothes.  They took photos which were amusing.  He said that now he won’t be able to run for president. 
    He told me, in a voice as sure as nipples harden in the cold, that he didn’t care if they put him in a pink skirt with fringes because he knows that under that pink skirt, he has a big dick. 

     

     

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Mindy Matijasevic will be performing her stand-up on December 13, 2012, 8pm at the Grisly Pear, 107 MacDougal Street, Greenwich Village, NYC  (NO cover & NO drink minimum!)

    Posted by Mindy Matijasevic at 12:00 AM | Labels: , , , | 2 comments | |

  5. Men at Work

    Tuesday, October 9, 2012


     
     
     
     
     
     
     Mindy Matijasevic
     
     
     

     

    While the workers were fixing my ceiling disaster, I was decluttering and found a little strip of paper with words on it like a fortune in a fortune cookie but the paper was thicker.  It said: 'you have mental/mood changes, increased fears, thoughts of suicide.'  C'mon, I know I have problems, but a fortune saying such things is uncalled for and just not helpful. Later I found the container that it came from which said: 'stop taking and call your doctor if...'

     

    The men here on Columbus Day, making my living quarters better, are Spanish-speaking with enough English to communicate with me.  When I said, “I hope you’ve seen worse,” we all laughed.  They helped me get all the stuff out of the kitchen.  It didn’t overwhelm them.  In that way, they were really men. 
     

     

    I am cold, hungry, and have to pee.  But one man is painting in the bathroom while the other is plastering in the kitchen.  When there is no romantic involvement, it is handy to have men around.  I have plenty of man-type-jobs that need doing in my apartment.  It isn't because of being divorced.  It was worse when my ex was here.  He wasn't the kind of man who helped make life better for anyone.  If I were going to get involved with a man from a Hispanic culture, I might have been better off with a man who isn't afraid of physical work and who teaches their child to ride a bike.  They get shit done.  The men in my apartment demonstrated caring to me, my dog, my items that were still all over the place, and the work they do.  

     




    For a straight "macho" man, my ex (an artist/painter who ended up at a middle management job tossing aside his MFA financed during the marriage) sounded very prissy about certain things.  He often had some ridiculous sounding excuse not to take out the garbage.  My best friend who is a straight man used to be so puzzled by that because he saw my ex as more traditional than my ex was able to recognize himself as being.  My buddy would say to me that he thought a traditional man would want to do the “man” jobs like taking out the garbage.  Either my ex was going to buy food and didn't want to touch the bags or he’d complain that he just took garbage out yesterday or he claimed the bags were too little.  I had never heard anything so prissy from a straight man before.  Even a gay friend's mouth hung open when I told him.  He suggested my then-husband bring a baby wipe with him to take out the garbage.  The gay friend took pride in his own prissiness, but no way would he keep garbage in his house overnight.  
     


     

    If that echoed in your head, it is probably because that is as metaphorically true as it is literally true.

     

    I am working on me. I haven't allowed any new garbage in, but I can't say I cleaned out all the old.

     

    I remember when my then-husband said the bags are little.  That did not compute for me.  I often gave him the benefit of the doubt when he said confusing things because English is not his first language.  So I thought maybe he meant there was too little garbage in the bags.  So I told him they were full and ready to go.  Again he said the bags were so little.  I said that's the size bags I get from the supermarket; they are regular sized shopping bags.  He didn't budge.  I then asked him if he thought we should keep the garbage.  

     




    The shit is when we first met, my building was much cleaner and well kept and rodent-free, so I had no problem taking the garbage out myself.  But then he insisted he didn't want me to go to the basement if he could do it instead.  He expressed concern for my safety (or for his “property”).  I didn't have words for my feeling at the time, but I felt uncomfortable that he insisted on helping when I didn't need help.  It made me suspect that he might not be there for when I would actually need his help. (Bingo! It was one of so many red flags I didn't take seriously enough.  My gut knew everything.  Now I do much better at listening to it AND obeying it.)

     

    Not too long ago when I gave him some stuff of his that was in my house, he again complained about bag size.  With the healthier amount of distance between us, I just looked at him and smiled.  Maybe this is dick-related, I thought.  Maybe he wants it presented that he needs super-duper humongous biggest-dick-in-the-Bronx size bags.  Who the fuck knows.  I thank God that I have a place to really call home where no one brings hostility and hatefulness to my daily existence, even if it is messy and in need of my attention.  He really should be more concerned with being a small man than with bag size.

     

    …..

     

    The workers were done by early afternoon.  It is amazing what two people can accomplish in a short time.  Glad these two were here to do something constructive.  It felt good to be helped by strong men with a lovely attitude.  Unlike my ex, they seemed to really not want me to feel badly about the messy areas.  They didn’t seem judgmental as much as they seemed to just know I was in need of help for whatever reasons.  I felt it as human kindness (which is the only religion I can believe in). They lifted my spirits.  Their actions and tones matched their words.  How refreshingly not schizoid.


     

    Posted by Mindy Matijasevic at 12:00 AM | Labels: , , , , , , | 4 comments | |