A Tangled Web
In this, the technological age, there are bound to be hiccups in our journey along the Information Superhighway. One such hiccup brought out the Carrie Bradshaw in me.
After ending a tumultous relationship in 2006, I met a beautiful, vibrant and intelligent young woman engaged to her equal; her soulmate if you will. Upon further prodding, I learned the two met in an online dating service. This was so hard to believe as she was not the type I thought to resort to such measures: lonely or bookish. I realized my thinking was antiquated. Today, those looking for their equal online are the highly-sought, social butterfly types, a-la me. So I decided to give it a go.
Fast forward and, now, I have plenty of eggs, and not a one is in a basket with another. Some eggs I have known for years, some I’ve just reconnected with and others I’ve only just met. I‘ve carefully placed each egg in a warmer, excitedly nurturing them to see what hatches.
This, however, is what brings me to my Bradshaw-esque question. How many eggs should one girl have? The answer lies below:
This week, I met a wonderfully-intelligent and interesting woman. If she were a man, I’d consider her. With so much in common, we decided to chat it up because the emails were just too damn slow. Knowing we had MySpace Faces in common, I asked her about one. Kind egg. Friendly egg. Wonderful egg. Great, great egg.
So far, so good. Then I said, ‘Egg wants to come for a visit, what say you?‘ Boiling it down, this egg gets warm in her hen house. Not so smart, egg. I further learned egg had other hen when we met. Bad, bad egg. I laughed about all of this, as me being me, am not emotionally vested in anyone at present, however, my friend began molting feathers.
Her pain became my anger. What’s worse is after hen confronted egg, egg turned on that oh-so-predictable of the alpha male defenses: righteous indignation. There are two or more sides to every egg-hatching story, however, when a hen becomes attached to an egg (or vice versa), it becomes egg’s responsibility to act with the kindness and friendliness egg purported to possess at outset.
After talking with egg, I realized the indignation was not directed at me and, thus, inadvertently avoided the most devious of eggs: one with no yolk pretending to be all yolk. This cured me of my fascination with eggs online. Yes, I love meeting people and continue to yuck it up with any interesting MySpace Face, who doesn’t appear delusional or perverted.
I know you don’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs but my journey isn’t about acquiring enough egg to turn into something else. I won’t settle for anything less than the full package: the Golden Egg. And, I have a feelin‘ it ain’t a MySpace Face, the same way it’s not an ex-boyfriend. (Exes are such for a reason people, usually a good one.)
This story proves us singleton femme fatales can never have enough eggs. Undoubtedly, some will belong to others, even more will have bloody yolks or none at all, some will be cracked and, even more still, will never break out of their shells. As women, we must maintain our dignity and strength while talking to each other.
Oh yeah, what did egg do, then? Egg deleted hen. 
Mean, hateful, spiteful egg. Not the egg, I expected. This would be acceptable if egg and hen never physically met. You can delete a MySpace Face. It’s a picture and a profile, no big whoop. But you can’t delete people.
Seeing error in the knee-jerk reaction to being caught in a self-spun web of lies, egg added hen again. Does egg score points for that? Dumb, disillusioned, desperate-for-approval, MANipulative egg.
Heavy story. Yes you are correct in the assertion that Myspace faces can be deleted,but, people can not. Spiteful egg...hmmmm...I would presume that egg would be considered to impure for sale and be discarded. All eggs aren't perfect, some are just...eggs...nice article...insightful...wonderful per usual
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Thanks for commenting, Sean.
You would be correct in assuming that egg is too impure for both consumption and resale. Wouldn't want that messing about in the general population, now would we? Could cause some type of vile viral infection if digested. However, it is my hope this experience teaches said egg, you reap what you sow and, thus, convinces egg to straighten up or some witty, super, social butterfly will have the displeasure of showing egg the error of its ways.
Update: All hopeful expectations aside, further communique from said egg denies deleting hen. However, I know for a fact that this is yet another lie and leads me to believe this egg is beyond any hope and, thus, ready for the bin.
Final Update: Two subsequent emails from egg has now implied that everyone is mistaken except for egg. Read on:
"No I didn't delete her. She deleted me. I removed her from my top friends list. Then I resent her a request. Ask her."
Here's the proof email I was talking about (some things have been redacted to protect the innocent):
"This is why I can call you a liar. This is why I know you are not the man you say you are and fail to be convinced you believe the XXXX you spout. In fact, it's a con on women everywhere. All those poor souls who believe you. HA, the joke sure is on them.
Proof? Oh yeah, I got me sum...
After you said you didn't delete her, I thought about it and conducted some research.
My research found the following: XXXX is listed under your NEW friends as the XXXX such addition. Yesterday, before you deleted her this was not true. The person you accepted after her has thanked you for the add, again with a timely date.
Don't lie to me. If your integrity is as such that you find no other avenue, it better be one worthy of me. I am too smart for this childish BS.
And oh, don't even try lying to her. I'm going to forward this to her. I think you've done enough damage there.
Today, you ceased being a man to me."
in a another email egg's response:
"Once again you are wrong. I did not delete her. She deleted me. She is on my new friends list because I resent her a request. anyway I am done with this. take care."
Apparently, this egg is so deluded, it believes the lie it's telling. I love how as soon as eggs know they can't win, they end the conversation. I say, don't start none, won't be none.
Final, Final Update: When egg said it was done, I thought egg meant it. Apparently not. So what to do? I give it to you, dear readers. In an email called, "correction" (I opened it thinking the correction was one I needed to make) egg writes:
"You kow you may have been half right in the assertion that I deleted her. I did block her from sending me messages. That way instead of eamiling me, she could call. That may have deleted her from my list, inadvertently.But, again take care."
Only half right, eh? Rotten egg's lie is starting to smell, so it edited it. First two times, hen deleted egg. Then, egg accidentally deleted hen. Which is it? Oh, well, I stand corrected, I guess. I'll be sure to put it in my pan and scramble it.
Final, Final, Final Update: Monday, Jan. 28: 7:24 pm (EST) A new communique from hen informs me hen and egg experimented on this delete/block debate. As I have raked egg over the coals on this issue, it is only fair that I alert my readers of this new wrinkle and debunk it. I considered this snafu more than 24 hours ago, after egg swore twice hen deleted egg only to change its story to: "Whuuups, I inadvertently deleted hen." It might make a difference to hen, however, it doesn't make a difference to me or my point.
Let's give egg the benefit of the doubt, despite the fact that egg was caught in more egregious lies than this delete bit. This egg has no credibility, whatsoever, so a benefit of the doubt is a gift and should be treated as such. Let's say egg did inadvertently delete hen by BLOCKING her. What did egg think? That in a highly-emotional state (that molting of the feathers thing) being unable to email egg would make hen feel so good as to call? One quick glance at his last email, says yes. But, hen was already ignoring egg's repeated attempts at calling. Thus, egg proved its MANipulative tendencies and behaviour by forcing hen's hand, knowing hen would be so distraught hen would a) call egg, or, b) answer when egg called, which hen did one of the two not even five minutes after such deletion, inadvertent or not. Sadly, this is the best-case scenario.
The worst-case scenario, however, is quite devious and, well, not beyond an egg possessing such MANipulative tendencies. As egg has lots of eggsperience with MySpace, if egg already knew (meaning prior to this entire incident) that deleting and blocking held the same result, egg could have deleted hen and only claimed to have blocked hen when said egg was dropped in boiling water.
This is all for us to ponder, as egg is the only one who possesses the truth, which by previous, personal eggsperience is a stretch for this egg. Hen's note happily vindicating egg of this infinitesimal detail reveals hen's willingness to forgive egg all along, overlooking egg's major flaws. Of course, hen is a good, well, hen. Once again, it is my hope for hen's sake, this close brush with being outed for what egg really is, does indeed, change egg's behaviour for good.
After buying this brand of egg for nearly two years, it is time for a switch. I, for one, won't buy this brand of egg EVER again and could not, in good faith, recommend it.
F-UPDATEx4: Tuesday, Jan 29: 4:27 p.m. (EST) Further communique from hen reveals hen and egg are in Internet hell, or at least, halfway there. After conducting the experiment mentioned in Final, Final, Final Update of yesterday, Neither hen nor egg can add each other to their friends list. A MySpace purgatory, if you will.
Note to egg: What egg started, karma finished.
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JE-sus!
Please tell me that you've at least met said egg in the flesh at least once to justify all of this drama and investigation. Otherwise, I may have to stage an intervention.
As a side note, I just spent a bit of time with another reporter (late of CNN & The Post) who revealed that she had a hard time in relationships because she's predisposed to investigate EVERYTHING like it was Watergate, but really cannot tolerate to receive interrogations herself. Food for thought.
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Oh Egg Friend Damon,
What you fail to realize, being an egg oneself, is the fact that egg in question lied for two years to me under the guise of calling itself a friend. That is the point, which you, like egg in question, and probably many other eggs, miss. I must add, continued lying by egg, is the only reason why I thought to do the research I believe you have read, a point which is also mentioned above. It was the hen-instinct of smelling lies coupled with my reporter instincts that kicked in to root it out, which took less than five minutes to do, as said lie was gravely unsophisticated. So not much time vested; no intervention needed, but good looking out. Keep in mind, it makes good reading, as this week's page views show. Alas, I am not above a good interrogation myself, as I hope to undergo if I resort to telling such obvious and odious lies as said egg.
As the blog states, I inadvertently avoided such a devious egg, however, my mother hen friend (you know, the one molting), her little chicks, knew egg offline (didn't meet on MySpace), which complicated the issue exponentially for hen. So very much like eggs to say something is wrong with hens because hens are too smart to refuse to be lied to and/or prove the lie. Now there's something for eggs to stew in.
If I have problems with relationships it's this: Cracked-egg wanting to keep hen, barefoot in hen house sitting atop even more eggs using cleaver as persuasion.
I guess, you will be happy to know, Egg Chronicles concluded in three, unrelated parts. LoisLane's Metropolis is returning to its regularly scheduled program.
Thanks for stopping by and reading, btw...
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LOL at the egg analogy! Yeah, fill that basket until you find the gold! And that young woman you met in 2006 sounds fabulous!
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Yeah, everything does seem fit quite well doesn't it? Although, I won't be following her lead, I will continue to mine the baskets for that shiny specimen! She is quite a doll, as well as her Roy. Thanks for stopping by.
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Oh Dear L.L. You must know how I love Carrie Bradshaw! Sex in and about the city. Gosh, I love New York! We’ll have to meet at Serendipity someday. It would be fitting, now wouldn’t it? The two of us sharing a frozen hot chocolate. Oh, the jokes, The Jokes! The question you post is an interesting one; just how many eggs should one girl have? I’m reminded of the Dorothy Parker quip that reads, “I never put all my eggs in one bastard.” She was quite the word stunna and she was as right as daylight after a stormy night.
Truth be told, one egg isn’t very filling and I’m just getting over a strict egg-white diet. Bland and full of nothingness. It’s not a diet that should be attempted for a lifetime. So I branched out…I tried the full Monty, even Brown eggs. Scrambled, dash of Lawry’s but not quite flavorful enough…you know? It needed a little something. I mean, always a little something… and somehow, it still didn’t fill me up. In fact, it turned my insides out. I’m seriously considering becoming a Lacto-Octo Vegetarian, but damn if I don’t love eggs too much to quit. I tried egg beaters once during college and let me tell ya, they give the real deal a run for their money. Just the same, not my thing.
I’ll bet your egg thinks it was caught in the cat house rather than the hen house. *SMH* Some never understand the missteps along the way. The good news is that I tend to agree with you that we singletons can never have enough eggs. It’s unfortunate because I spent time searching for that one…THE one…the Biblical Equally Yolked one. I thought I found one, but I think it was an egg that needed to be shared and if one isn’t filling, half is just pure diet hell and a waste of time.
I do feel badly for your Hen friend. If she is as wonderfully-intelligent and interesting as you say, she’s truly a gem and shouldn’t be messing about with those types of eggs. The types that leave her one stomach flu away from her goal weight, but leave lasting, painful memories and the fear of touching eggs again. But, if she is that intelligent, I’ll bet she has a few eggs tucked away. Good eggs! Be wary, my friend, as there aren’t many good eggs around and the percentages decline exponentially when one searches on Myspace.
P.S. So Egg didn’t delete Hen??? That’s RICH! It’s good that he didn’t try to turn it around on poor Hen. That wouldn’t ring true of a real “Kind egg. Friendly egg. Wonderful egg. Great, great egg.”
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Alas Dear Scenic, that is quite a go you've given it. Egg-whites, brown eggs and egg beaters, the latter of which is beginning to seem quite appealing. Although, no one can stick to an unhealthy diet forever, the Lacto-Octo Vegan route, like you, doesn't suit me either. What to do, what to do? I have my eggs sprawled out, Hen could have hers tucked away... On balance, I think we are smarter than the eggs, especially the rotten one in question, and, therefore, we are bound to win our own Golden Egg.
And yes, can you believe that, said Egg completely denies deleting Hen. So you know me, I sent the 'dumb, disillusioned, desperate-for-approval-MANipulating-now-pathetic egg proof. HAHAHA... Note to eggs everywhere: When lying make sure proof debunking your own fabricated tale can't be sourced from YOU. Hell, if eggs are this stupid, maybe we should pray for a Hill win. Do you think free-range is a reasonable alternative? Nah. Me neither.
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By the way...truly Eggcellent entry!
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BAAAAH! Just when I thought we'd eggshausted the analogy! Lovin' it!
Thanks for reading, btw.
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lool girl! u caught me smile! i ve told u lot of times U r such a gud writer! who is Carrie Bradshaw now?!? U got it!
n u were rite in ur article..we need 2 b in touch wit people who r our cup of tea..our basket of eggs!
RESPECT!
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Thanks Kat (Praha),
Yes, you said it. The name of the game at hand is respect. Respect for others and respect for oneself. Be sure to spread your eggs around now! You don't want them all in the same bastard! LOL.
And Carrie Bradshaw was the superfly, albeit 'mandicapped,' main character in one of my favorite TV shows, Sex in the City! Bradshaw was a newspaper columnist, who always wrote about men, dating in my hometown of New York City and the pitfalls of all. It's great. If you can find it on DVD in Czech, you'll love it. Makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes me wanna kiss my Mr. Big on a bridge over the Seine. LMAO. Thanks for coming by, gurrrrl.
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loool missy! i know whoz da AMAZIN REALAEST WOMAN eva! i luv Sex In The City! just like u said!
i just meant whoz Carrie B. agains U now (theze dayz), lol! cuz i was so impressed when i finished ur blog!
bt thnx 4 ur explain! now i know sumbody luves Sex In The City more than me, lol!
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Whuuups! LMAO... I just didn't expect such a terrific compliment. Thanks dahlin' you made my day!
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Oaky A...the eggs that i'm starting to worry about are the ones that are dying monthly....ya know!!!
Where is the love????? oh lying, mean, momma's boy egg...idiot!!!
Miss you loads....you are the golden egg A!
aim
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LOL Aim! Errrtime my tummy takes a-pummelin' I hear my mum's words in the back of my head:
"Wouldn't feel like that if you'd had a baby."
Ugh, seriously! I don't need that kind of pressure. And don't get me started on the eggs that never leave the cozy comfort of their very first hen house. I don't know which is worse: them or the ones who never break out of their shells - so much lost potential. I've been served a few of those myself. In an attempt to coax these eggs, I've boiled some and poached others. Either way, they never live up to eggspectations winding up in the bin, just the same.
We are all Queens, Aim. We don't need eggs to tell us that.
Miss you back.
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I can't help but think of the saying "don't count your chickens before they hatch". One never knows if an egg will never hatch, thus becoming one stinking, rotten egg or if it'll become a beautiful, strong rooster.
Another thought based on Scenic's comment: no matter the color of the shell (white, brown, blue flecked, whatever), they're all generally the same on the inside...is this good or bad?
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I would be good not to count my eggs until they are hatched, if they ever do. If any of my eggs read this, they might all turn into eggs never coming out of their shells. Alas, it was a chance I needed to take to expose the rotten one amongst my bunch.
Although I generally stick to brown eggs myself, I do recognize egg-whites and other variants are quite indeed remarkably similiar. However, some might argue (and have a feeling someone will) that environment and the types of hens who hatch said eggs, affect eggs' behavior in circumstances such as these.
I don't have a definitive answer if it's good or bad. I think though, it might work in our favor. If all egg yolks are the same, despite the outward appearance of the shell, then us hens should be experts in dealing with said eggs. If the addage, "Practice makes perfect" rings true, then we will conquer all eggs in the end. That can only be a good thing. And now, as I've mentioned outside of this blog, at least we know the deviled-egg we are dealing with. That might be all we can hope for and armed with our intellect it just might be good enough. Akin to a fried egg on toast, missing both butter and cheese.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Oh and welcome to my world! LMAO...
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