Marital Mondays: Me and Ashton Kutcher on Digital Romance
“…vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, ‘This is me, and I’m interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more important, all that I am not.’” – Ashton Kutcher
Last Friday, while I was sitting in the endodontist’s office waiting for my left jaw to become numb enough for a root canal, I read an article by Ashton Kutcher in Harper’s Bazaar about how texting and social networking are deadening romance. He compares old-fashioned experiences, like the stomach butterflies that use to present themselves while anticipating a first phone call from a love interest, with the modern day “It was NICE meeting you” text, where people overanalyze the caps used in “NICE.” He discusses how people use texting and social networking to present a more superior version of themselves. Spell check omits the flaws, revisions are possible, and a portion of the communication (body language, touching, and facial expressions) is absent.
Even though we met on MySpace, Hannibal and I certainly did the whole first phone call pilot episode deal — “What do you do? Why’d your last relationship end? Blah blah blah.” There were many clever quips via text and lots of flirting over social networking after the inital convo, but there wasn’t any lack of butterflies, because he had the balls to call me first. I began to think beyond Kutcher’s focus on dating in the article and analyze the marriage that I’m in now, though, and it really hit home.
In this marriage, emailing is, without a doubt, our most comfortable method of communication. My favorite part about it is that he can’t interrupt me when I’m writing like he can when I’m speaking. There’s also a searchable record of everything said, which helps with future discussions. Kutcher is right, though. This form of communication can be a little cold and distant — especially when a particularly difficult email is read and the person isn’t there to hold you afterwards or to clarify.
Midway through the article, Kutcher writes, “There’s no text that can replace a loving touch when someone we love is hurting.” I’ve been saying this to people, including my husband, for a very long time. Sometimes a person just needs you to shut the fuck up and give them a hug!
I’ll concede that there is something to admire in vulnerability, flaws, embraces, and ear whispers. I have to disagree, however, that texting and social networking has “killed romance” — in that regard at least (I’m not speaking about the paranoia around cheating that it has increased in folks and the invasions of privacy that take place on Facebook daily). Public adoration via blogs, Twitter and Facebook are no different than sending flowers to your spouse’s office. You’re declaring your love for others to see. The same release of endorphins occurs.
We both admit that we can’t remember the last face-to-face conversation that wasn’t about the kids or logistics, because we’ve been so busy. When I get a text message from Hannibal at 2pm that reads, “Your skin felt amazing last night,” that sticks with me all day and acts as foreplay for that night and the following night. Texting and emailing keep us connected throughout the day when there is no other way to communicate with each other. The emails are about very interesting topics including bedroom ones. That’s not killing romance.
Thematic Thursdays: Put Down the Blunt! YouTube is Waiting For You!
If you get off crack, you never know what YouTube might do for you. Millions of viewers clicked on the video for Ted Williams, the “homeless man with the golden voice.” Subsequently, more than he could have ever dreamed came true. His mother lived long enough to see him rebound, he landed a job with the Cleveland Cavaliers and copped a free house all from standing on the street corner with a sign advertising his wonderful announce voice. After two years clean, he deserves it. If you haven’t seen this already, you’ve got to hear his voice!
Workin’ Wednesdays: A Change is Gonna Come
More than likely, you noticed that yesterday was renamed “Tuesdays With Mooch and Fuss.” There’s a new banner and everything. This blog will be changing slightly to accommodate the addition of a new Tumblr account, where I will record documentation while homeschooling Fuss. It will include observations, pictures, ideas, new words, outings and other aspects of our emerging curriculum. It is called “Teaching Fuss.”
At this url, I will continue with “Marital Mondays” “Tuesdays With Mooch and Fuss” and “Thematic Thursdays.” Any exciting design or dance clients will be featured on occasional Thursdays instead of the former “Workin’ Wednesdays.” Most Thursday content, however, will continue to fall under the social justice, geek or other surprise tags. Oh, and “Film Fridays” is out as well. Any fiction or film will appear on Thursdays, as Thursdays are non-specific.
This will free up time for me to focus my efforts on Fuss and her growing abilities. So, here is the line up for 2011:
Tuesdays With Mooch and Fuss: Eyeballs and Birthdays
Mooch is going to kill me when she turns sixteen for posting pictures of her bloody eyes, but her surgery went well! She felt alright during the Kwanzaa show, and I just went backstage each night to put her drops and ointment in. She was surrounded by family, friends and love for the entire seven days, so she recovered gracefully. She also lost her two front teeth! Here are some shots:
Having a New Year’s Eve birthday will probably be tough some years, but 2010 wasn’t one of them. Fuss had a great birthday party! Six babies were in attendance which is five more than I expected, so that was wonderful. I led a mommy and me class, we did the hokey pokey and played with a parachute. She was all smiles almost the entire time. None of the babies would go through the tunnel. Fuss actually walked around the tunnel to great me with a hug, so that was sweet. Mooch read the babies a story while we nursed them all. We even had a baby rock band!
Hannibal took Fuss on a symbolic trip around the sun using a candle and a small globe, while I read about her accomplishments and milestones this year. She took a birthday ride, in a pimped out stroller, around the living room. It was supposed to be a bubble parade, but apparently they don’t put wands in bottles of bubbles anymore *frown*. Then we had the sweetest vegan cake I’ve ever tasted. The frosting was almost too much.
My baby is officially one! Take a look:
Marital Mondays: New Leaf
No, I’m not resolving to stop saying penis. Sorry. In your dreams. I have Tourette’s Syndrome and I’m incapable of such promises. This isn’t a blog about resolutions at all. Hannibal didn’t make any either. It’s about just the opposite — indecision, lack of answers and searching for purpose.
I’ve spent most of my life without a clue about where I’m actually going. I’m talking big picture here. I know where I’m going from moment to moment — taking Mooch to school, stopping at the credit union, going to buy pomegranates, etc. I pretty much decide that I’m going to do things and then fly full speed ahead at achieving the goal. I shot a movie when I was 20, opened a dance studio when I was 21 and started a design company when I was 26 all because I felt like it at the moment.
I’m getting too old for this kind of distracted tenacity. All of these things are fun, I’m good at them and they make great hobbies, but what I really want to be doing is acting — not for the fame or even for the money. I just love doing it. It’s the one thing I’d do for free — on stage, on TV, in movies — I don’t really care. Hannibal would, of course, love to be writing more (The funny thing is that I wrote more often than he did last year).
I guess 2011 will offer me the opportunity to decide what I what to do — to find a resolution. Many friends and mentors have told me, “It doesn’t have to be just one thing, Myshell.” I get that. I just feel like I’m spreading myself across a piece of bread the size of a football field. I’m not closing my company, because it’s doing too well, but something else has got to go. I’m not giving up social networking like Hannibal did last year (even though he’s almost done with his 3rd novel now), because social networking is where most of my graphic design business comes from. I have to give it some thought — not impulse. I’m in limbo. None of this may make sense tomorrow. I’m not drunk. I promise.
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