Diary of a Network Geek

Where are all the women like Sandahl Bergman?
So, Thursday night, after I got home from therapy, I’m watching Conan the Barbarian on cable with my dog and there’s that scene where they bring Conan, played by the Governator, back from the dead. To refresh your memory, Conan has died after being crucified on the Tree of Woe and his paramour has brought the body to a wizard to be ressurected. The spirits that the wizard summons try to steal the body instead of restore it, as per the standard sorcerous contract, and Valeria, played by Sandahl Bergman, throws her body on top of his to hold him down and force the spirits to bring him back from the dead. Later, when the bum lets her die, she comes back as a spirit to dazzle and confuse Conan’s enemies. Now, that is what I call devotion!
I mean, c’mon, can you beat that? A woman that first throws herself inbetween you and dead spirits and then comes back from the grave, even when you cremate her instead of trying to bring her back, just to save your bacon. Who would do that for any guy today? For that matter, what guy today would do that kind of thing for his woman? After all, they weren’t married. They didn’t have kids. She was just his partner in crime, literally. Now, as someone pointed out in comments on another blog, my experience with women lately hasn’t been all that wonderful, so, it is possible that cynicism fairy has sprinkled me with a little extra magic dust today, still… Still, even though I have a hard time imagining this, I long for it.
I long for my own personal Sandahl Bergman. The one who would go through Hell for me out of sheer passion. The one who’d put me before herself. Not that I’d let her, just that I’d like it if she really felt that strongly about me and wasn’t motivated by greed or need or anything but pure love and desire. I don’t know, maybe I’m an optimist. Or a romantic. Or, maybe, just a fool, but one day, I’d love to find my Pearl of Great Price for whom I’d sacrifice everything else. And wouldn’t it be nice if she felt the same way about me…

Oh, and now it smells like the Chicken Masala is done! All week I’ve been making a Freudian Typo and calling it Chicken Marsala, but I’ve been making Chicken Biryani Masala. It’s a whole different idiom!