The Details You See Fit to Omit
“Wait…why did you have a bucket of salt water?”

Love is a Thousand Choices
This one was just quoted in a wedding speech. Am awesome.

The Love Manifesto
“Finding balance. Between loving you. The you I know and the you I don’t. And loving me. Even though I know my flaws better than anyone.”

And What Job Would You Like, Young Man?
“I will take this whole interaction as a sign that I’m having a good hair day.”

Worth Noting
“Today a random acquaintance called me beautiful.”

Hey You, I’ll Do Your Taxes for Free
“I’m also going to start declaring (to terrified boys) that we’re officially married–and dare them to prove otherwise.”

Shame On You
“Hell, the religious folks of his time didn’t much like him either. He hung out with the tax collectors and the prostitutes. He taught people how to live and how to serve their God. But he didn’t marginalize them. He didn’t try to control them with threats. He loved them just because they were people and people are worth loving.”

At the End of This, You’re Both Going to Die
“I had an interesting mushroom soup while the boys drank and commented on the ballet’s strange hats, why men should not wear tights, why men should always wear tights while they are sword fighting, etc.”

Also, some favorites I can’t take credit for:
“There is hurt here that cannot be fixed with band-aids or poetry.”
You’ll be fine. Just breathe.
A Manifesto on Flossing & First Base
The Other Love Manifesto

Craving more? 2010’s best moments are here.

A. I found that fabulous Sartorialist blog, which makes me ashamed of my wearing-of-things-with-stains.

B. I’ve been watching What Not To Wear, which I took out from the library and which, again, made me ashamed of the stuff with stains.

C. Due to watching said things, and due to working out, my wardrobe has been shrinking. I tossed everything with holes, everything with stains, all my jeans (which are faded so fully that they’re almost translucent), dresses that show too much cleavage (I know, what doesn’t?) and things I’ve owned for years and never actually worn. This all seems like a very good idea, except it left my closet looking rather lonely. And then there’s the teensy problem of not being ready to replace these things yet.

Why not, you ask? Because I still plan on getting a tad bit more in shape (though nothing crazy and unsustainable). Because I don’t want to spend money unless I have to (and the Naked Lady Party is coming up…so I might get some things I need for free). And because I am still watching my business income, pipeline and so forth closely…determining what expenses should be put off until I see how winter (a traditionally slower time in my industry) goes.

It’s all very complicated. And a lot more effort than goes into my fashion normally.

That said, those few pieces that I did replace–four tank tops and two jacket-type things–have made dressing this week much more fun than usual. And I’m finally feeling less gross and more upbeat.

When I get my camera back from the Very Slow People Who Are Cleaning The Sensor For Me, I will show you what I mean.

Today, gentlemen, we will answer all your questions about why you never get any action on first dates with attractive women, or really ever, unless copious amounts of alcohol are involved.

Today, gentlemen, we discuss oral hygiene.

It is a complex and frightening topic, to be sure, but one you must confront, if you wish to date women of high caliber. And we know you do. We also know that you are capable of understanding – nay, of mastering! – the skills were are about to present.

So follow closely.

You must brush your teeth twice a day with an electronic device that costs more than your iPhone (no, you may not use a regular brush because you are currently doing a terrible job with it); You must floss ALL of your teeth once per day; You must make regular visits to a member of the American Dental Association and you must stop whining like a little girl about having your teeth cleaned by a professional hygienist.

This.
Is.
Not.
Optional.

Unless you want to continue wondering why you are in your late twenties with four roommates instead of a girlfriend.

Unless you want to continue to have a Facebook profile that looks like it belongs to a college freshman who thinks putting a lime slice on top a Corona is the height of sophistication.

Unless you want to continue on your lonely journey of interrupted make-outs and unreturned phone calls, pretending to be a free man by preference rather than because of periodontitis.

TRY the steps we’ve given you above, get to know the aisle that has bleaching strips at your local grocery store, practice smiling in front of the mirror, and locate a platonic female acquaintance who is willing to tell you what you’re still doing wrong (you may also consider asking Gigi, who is a certified expert on everything related to dating), and you will find you have throngs of women beating down your door!!!!… Or at least less gum disease.

Think about it.

This manifesto has been brought to you by Crest 3-D Vivid and Sonicare.

Thanks to those of you who participated. If you missed le manifestos, you can click on the links below (or scroll down the page):
The Love Manifesto
The Other Love Manifesto
One Cat’s Dream

And, in tribute to our newest manifestos…here are a few old rants that might be along the manifesto lines:
Acey Deucy (or a Scandalous Statement of Intent)
Love is a Thousand Choices
Thou Shalt Not Be a Religious Asshole
Jennisms

Laptops put the world at your fingertips.

Laptops put you under the world’s thumb.

How does that yoke fit?

Hmm?

Those unfeeling wedges of plastic sunder Man from his most intimate connections, his most

Sacred.

Of.

Duties.

Laptops are unassailable walls

Between parents and their helpless infants.

Between little old ladies and their deliciously hypnotic knitting projects.

Between humans and their piteously neglected feline companions.

It’s time for Man to cast out the beguiling demons of email and eBay, of World of Warcraft and Wikipedia, of blogs and Twitter and YouTube to leave productivity, easy answers and instant gratification behind and return the promised land of Lapdom to its natural trustees.

Unplug.

Today, we pull ourselves the heck together.

Today, we tell Romeo & Juliet, Guinevere & Lancelot, Paris & Helena, Heathcliff & Catherine, Scarlett & Rhett, Meg Ryan & (Insert Dashing Male Co-star), Carrie and Mr. Big, Edward & Bella, and everyone associated with The Bachelor(ette) to go ahead and shove it.

Today, we JUST SAY NO to dysfunctional love.

Join me, friends and comrades! On this glorious day, we free ourselves of the bonds of media-perpetuated nonsense that tells us our relationships are meaningless until someone is indulging in ill-mannered shenanigans! We say NO, stupid American love mythology, WE WILL NOT dispense with all good judgment, ethical boundaries, or shreds of dignity in service of the cultural imperative that Love Conquers All.

Love is consuming and intoxicating, yes. Love is something extraordinary that transforms the mundane. Love can make us feel CRAZY. We know.

BUT.

But.

Love is not submitting to every urge to hop on the Crazy Train.

Love is not going back again and again to the person who treats you like crap and cannot commit to you whilst telling yourself that epic love is ultimately going to change said person (see: addiction; self-delusion).

Love is not throwing yourself off a cliff or in front of a bus in despair because you cannot have the person you want (see: clinical depression).

Love is definitely NOT following someone around, watching them in their sleep, and trying to make all their decisions for them “for their own good” (see: stalking; abusive relationship; Twilight).

Neither is love two weeks of infatuation.

Neither is love cheating on your significant other because of your overwhelming googly feelings for New Shiny Person or Old Flame Person who will never break your heart or have any deal-breaking faults (right?).

Neither is love constant bickering, constant work, or constant abandonment of good sense and common decency.

Today we reaffirm our commitment to grown-up behavior, to decisions made intentionally and treated thoughtfully rather than as an itch we have to scratch.

We will not stand on doorsteps in the pouring rain disturbing the neighbors with mournful wails of regret or accusations of wrongdoing.

We will not drunk text our ex at 3am because we just thought of a brilliant, pithy way to make the scathing point in 160 characters or less that we’ve been wanting to make for weeks.

We will certainly not blurt out all of the things we are thinking and feeling that very moment just because they are so REAL and TRUE and subsequently blame “love” for the resulting train wreck.

And should we falter, as we are all liable to do sometimes, we will not expect to be rewarded for our haphazard flailing with happily ever after.

Not today, friends. Today, we join Sassy Gay Friend, and Corinthians 13:4-7 in declaring ourselves free free of dysfunction, free of self-serving tripe masquerading as affection, free of manipulation, drama, and psychobabble. We demand the kind of love that makes us better, that seeks and honors wholeness in others, that sometimes requires hard choices. We demand love without deception or temper tantrums, love that inspires us to take great care rather than to smash things up. Love that endures because it is greater than self.

And if we simply cannot get over ourselves long enough to manifest our way to compassionate, decent, transcendent love? Well. There’s always this in a pinch.

We do not know how to love.

We sing about it. Write about it. Shout it from the rooftops. Say it quickly. Say it often. Say it with fear and trembling. Or say it with excitement.

Without any idea of what it means.

That it’s not a feeling. Not magic. Not an UNCONTROLLABLE FORCE that sweeps us away without our consent.

“You can’t help who you love,” we say.

Bullshit.

It’s a thousand choices. To put someone else first. To make another’s life better. To sacrifice. To build up. To not tear down. To keep quiet. To speak up.

You can help who you love. And how well you love.

It’s patient. It’s kind. It looks simple when done well, but it is not simple. Not effortless. We’re broken and it doesn’t come naturally to us. Even babies want their way.

What if we loved one another? What if we listened, watched, took care of each other?

It would change everything.

Our failures would dim. Our successes would build. And even in failure, would we be content to know someone loved us anyway? Chose to. No matter what. Not because we won something, did something, were something. But because we are us. Children of God. Beautiful with even our flaws.

Depression? Hate? Wouldn’t they just fade away?

While we felt loved, listened to. But not self-absorbed.

Absorbed in loving back.

Passing it along.

Because love has to go both ways. It’s a web, a net to get caught in. I love you. You love me. We love them. They love us. We have to learn to love to save ourselves. Not be saved without any effort.

This is my manifesto.

To love.

Not perfectly, perhaps. But the best I can. Growing, I hope, day by day. Taking two steps forward for every stumble.

Finding balance.

Between loving you.

The you I know and the you I don’t.

And loving me. Even though I know my flaws better than anyone.

Not expecting perfection from either of us. But wanting it. Pursuing it. Moving toward it.

Loving.

And thus changing everything.

That manifesto week starts now. First, I’ll let you in on the inspiration for the Manifesto Fest by sharing my final email to these very clever folks:

Dear Kumquats,

I am writing you today because: A. you are all fabulous and B. in your fabulousness, you have agreed to write a manifesto for my FABULOUS MANIFESTO WEEK OF MANIFESTO-NESS!

Currently, I’m planning for this Manifesto Fest to happen the first week of May, but you can certainly send the manifestos sooner.

In case you’ve forgotten, the inspiration for Manifesto Fest came from this: http://www.kimmok.com/514799/THE-MANIFESTO-MANIFESTO

You should probably also read Wikipedia’s entry, because that’s where we Americans get our information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manifesto (I knew I liked the word Manifesto…and now I know why…it’s Italian!)

Need a manifesto example? The communists wrote one. http://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1848/communist-manifesto/

You want another link? Okay. Puppies! http://cutepuppiespictures.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/cute-face-puppies.jpg

Now, go forth and be clever, be insightful, be hilarious or be someone who links to puppies. I am okay with all these things.

Please send your manifestos to me no later than May 1. Otherwise I will make you read the whole Communist Manifesto.

Much love & Manifesto-ambition,

Gigi

.Two.
About a week or so later, the same creepy neighbor was locked out of his apartment by the girlfriend-roommate-whatever. I was again taking the dog for her nightly potty, when I watched the drama unfold before me. He was camped out on the doorstep, yelling for her to let him in, calling her names, shouting something about how if he didn’t get let in he’d end up in jail (WTF?). He was drunk and loud and probably violent. And again I shuffled the dog quickly out and back in.

I could still hear him from my living room. Screaming, pounding. And I called the Police.

I haven’t seen him since. Not stumbling up the stairs with a gash in his forehead. Nor pounding on the door using the C-Word. Nor leaning over the railing smoking and leering. So maybe he did go to jail.

Luna is afraid of things. And by things, I mean: geese, cats, the sink and the street (hoorah for the last one). Each of these things, if I am holding her, results in a mad struggle to get away. Because, someplace in her brain, the part that is supposed to tell her that the safest place to be is high above each of these things is not working. It is especially fun when I am holding my morning Starbucks and her at the same time. But you would probably be terrified too–if geese and cats were three times your size.

.Two.

Last night I was over at the Old House and Small Biting Dog came running up to greet me. First I would like to note that I have missed Small Biting Dog and said greeting made me very happy. Secondly I would like to note that somehow, some way, Small Biting Dog seemed HUGE to me in that moment. This is the power of getting used to things: get used to a four pound dog and suddenly a nine pound dog is enormous.

.Three.

Things Luna is not afraid of include: the vet, medicine, getting drop kicked by other dogs and the bathtub. I find the final item in this list rather humorous, as her not being afraid of the bathtub translates into her sticking her face into it during my shower. This, of course, results in a dripping-faced dog whose only ambition in life is to lick my foot as I step out of the tub.

She also wants to get into the bathtub and wander around and try to eat any stray hairs or dirt that she finds. Though I will note that she hasn’t asked to get into the tub since I gave her a bath (she does still stick her face in during my shower, though).

.Four.

There is a dog behind our full length mirror. Of this fact, Luna is certain. But she’ll only bark at this dog if she doesn’t think I am watching, or if the petsitter is trying to study. She has also done her own little investigation of behind said mirror, which is propped against the wall at the moment. This investigation, which has happened approximately 200 times, has resulted in her not finding this other dog. Which is sad, because according to her barks, she would like to kill it like she killed that clothes hanger the other day.