Thursday, August 30, 2007

Slum-Day Top Ten: Back to Sleep to Re-Dream Me

I say "that'd be like, my worst nightmare" a lot. It's an odd phrase, as I'd never use it to describe a nightmare I've actually had: Oh, man, Al Queda attacking Manhattan in glass-bottom boats? WORST NIGHTMARE, or like: The dead coming back to life on the condition that my living family dies? WORST NIGHTMARE, or Getting kidnapped by Willow? WORST NIGHTMARE.

What if the things we said are our dreams [as in "hopes and"] were the same things that happened in dreams [as in "while sleeping"]? What if I dreamt every night about being a fabulously successful writer with a hot girlfriend who looks like Jackie Warner and possessing an endless bounty of peanut butter M&Ms? Maybe I'd wake up able to make dreams come true right away; maybe I'd walk like the ground is a trampoline and life itself a boundless and sunshine-streaked sky. Or I'd just have a LeanPocket and sit in front of my laptop and make dying ferret-esque low-pitched moaning sounds, per ushe.

I seem to recall referring to something, in the comments, as my "worst nightmare," then acknowledging I overused that term, then announcing my intention to use that as my next Sunday Top Ten topic. I can't find evidence of this, but I'm pretty sure it happened. Or I've got no excuse for this slap-shot presentation of pathos. I talked about dreams in like, February. 'Dreams You Want to Hear About.' Times have grown dark since then. [What am I talking about?!!??]




To evidence my over-usage of this term, I searched my blogger and gmail to find how I've [mis] appropriated it in the past. That's in here, too, along with things I just thought up, just now, all by myself. It turns out I have a lot of fears, y'all. The way I use 'worst nightmare' is pretty specific though. Like, I know what I mean. Also, I feel like all the sentences in this intro are a grammatical nightmare.

12) From a Feb 22, 2007 Blog Post: "I Love The Subway, Unless I Forgot to Put on Deodorant": Missing Your Subway Stop, Even If Making It Presents a Great Emotional Price

"Really though, this applies to all morning after subway rides, not just "morning after" subway rides: As your stop nears [after, if it's someone you don't know so well, you've inevitably asked, "What's your stop again?" 30 times], even if you're having a fight hurdling towards divorce/breakup, or a discussion pointed towards marriage proposal --when their stop arrives, convo OVER. You've got no control over this. Your fate's the subway engineer's whim, his fast/slow hands your doom/gloom. At a house, people'll stick out the extra ten minutes to finish a discussion, end a fight, complete confession ... but people will not, under any condition, suffer the unbearable consequences of riding the subway even one small moment further than where it JUST WAS, if where it JUST WAS is YOUR STOP, and G-D FORBID you'd encounter the worst nightmare ever, which's if you actually RIDE ALL THE WAY TO THEIR STOP. When the discussion's over, you're now forced to exit the subway at THE WRONG STOP, and, in some cases, you must actually exit the station, cross the street, and attempt to get back onto the subway going BACK towards your stop."

Ideally I guess all that drama took over 18 minutes.


Okay so I'm trying to think of these, and somehow, they're all related to losing technology of some sort: a computer crash, the swift&sudden death of a well-functioning iPod, the [formerly] hypothetical restriction of internet access. 'Cause it turns out you actually can't control life at all, these gadgets and gizmos a'plenty just keep telling you that you can, if you buy more of 'em, but it's a lie! Still, all I ask is that I'm able to select my own soundtrack for being mercilessly trapped underground on the A train for twenty of the best most beautiful minutes of my life or directly after spending a day staring mindlessly at "access restricted" computer screens. Like: life is hard, here is Frou Frou.

That Being Said:

11) Spilling Water On My Laptop

This happened once. I'd just bought a new iBook and I moved a glass of water and it spilled and just like that, everything: vanished, after only two days prior undergoing severe trauma when my first iBook crashed, requiring the purchase of this new one I'd just destroyed. You know when you start like, developing complex relationships with the men at the Genuis Bar? They're like "Oh: you again." My Genius was a photographer and asked me to model for him for his fashion portfolio. I looked at his stuff online and it was good, but I felt weird 'cause I'd already almost cried in front of him. It's like he already saw the most spoiled, stubborn, codependent side of me, after all that I couldn't just show up and be like "What a pretty dress!"

Krista spilled scotch on my ibook once when we lived together.. That wasn't pretty at all whatsoever. The sitch upset me beyond belief, and I took it out on her, as I had, really, no other options for resentment besides Steve Jobs or like, whomever invented this stuff to begin with. The fixed computer was returned with this "sticky" on the desktop:
MLB: this is your happier and healthier-than-ever computer, back in your life to stay. It respectfully requests that you back up your work in case other future unexpected events (i.e. accidents) result in the compromise of your life's soulful records. This said, we promise that your roommate, scotch, and your computer will never ever again share the same small space. The divorce between the scotch and aforementioned i-book is complete and non-negotiable with no chance for reconciliation. However, if you can explore the deep back mildewing recesses of your heart and find there, trembling in some dark corner, forgiveness - - feel free to invite him up to the light and share him with your roommate who loves you desperately and cannot live up to her full potential when she is wrestling with guilt and the vengeance that you cultivate in times of asthma ridden - bad days. peace in the middle east. love, kcw.
I love when we sign letters "peace in the middle east." I feel like it's saying: "There are bigger problems than ours, obvs," though I originally picked it up from a sk8er boy I'd email alot back in the mid-90s who I had a big crush on. He told me everything in email and ignored me in school and that's how he signed his letters. Oh, him. Also, I love Krista.

10) From the annals of the G-chat archives: Having an Extended Conversation Regarding How Much I Like Someone and How Much That Person Likes Me

me: I mean, we're fully having a three hour convo about how much we like each other, which is totes my worst nightmare, but obvs not right now, because you're like, my greatest dream.
[redacted]: You like, totally make my day. And night. ... God, I want you.
me: I hate you.

9) Waking Up in a Borough

I don't do sleepovers. Lately, this's been a totes non-issue. But, back in my former life as a more emotionally ambitious person, I tried to avoid this at all costs. The worst was the morning I woke up mid-morning at [redacted #2]'s Williamsburg loft on a mattress underneath the bedroom she shared with her then-boyfriend, who hated me with the fury of a thousand suns. It was four or five A.M., maybe, I'd just developed a sudden need for tampons, and I was ten or 100 blocks from the L train, in Williamsburg, where I'd never been before. I was defo still drunk. I remember walking in the dark out by the water, seeing the bridge that I knew linked me to home but having no clue how to reach it.

An empty bus came by, I got on it. It was a bus like in a movie where innocent young girls get killed in mundane blue light. I asked him where we were, if he knew where the train was, I didn't have enough cash to get all the way to Sparlem via cab. I musta looked super hard-up 'cause he took me directly to the L station, which I took to 14th street and then took a cab uptown, slept for about an hour, and then went to work at in Hangover Shirt.

Hangover Shirt, which I actually inherited from my Dad, is what I wear to let people know not to fuck with me. I've been doing this for probs like, seven years, which's why there's a lot of holes in Hangover Shirt (aside from the whole "existing since the 70s" thing). I can't believe I used to have jobs where I could actually have a "Hangover Shirt" that looked like this, and wear it to work. Waa. Anyhow, I love it because the drawing in on it is of an old-school computer. "My system is down." Get it? Ha ha.:

Coincidentally, [redacted #2]'d won a nerve photo contest a year prior, so I could explain my wrecked state to my best work-friend Jason not only via audio but also w/visuals: I quickly found her picture in the archive. He approved. He was one of those people I could talk to forever. That morning, prior to the A/V convo, he IMed me [everyone at nerve communicates via AIM 'cause we're all socially awkward weirdos] --my IM name is Plaster176 -- "You're plastered176 today." Obvs, I was wearing my hangover shirt. Which I still have on 'cause I just took those photos. I love it.

8) From A Blog Feb 1, 2007: "Come On Ilene, I'm Begging You Please!": Going to a movie with my friends at the age of 15 and seeing my Mom and all her lesbian friends in the back row.

"At 15, I saw All Over Me [my mother and her lesbian crew occupied the front row, my friends and I took up a front few: more or less an encapsulation of my worst nightmare ever]. Later, I'd fantasize about that scene where best friends break a barrier I once considered unbreakable: that skinny blonde badass girl, in bed, straddles Claude like it's all she's ever wanted [at least right then], which was so much more than my previous concept of "never." When the movie was released on DVD last year, I re-watched it and was surprised to see: the scene I remembered was not even a sex scene, though I'd remembered it as such. It was just a kiss. They just kissed! But it meant so much more to me than that."

7) From the GMail Archives: Being Trapped in a House W/O Wireless, Car, Gym or Soy Products

Seriously, reading this email just now, I was slightly taken aback by my own insanity.

From: Riese.
To: Haviland.
December 2006
"I am in Michigan. There is no wireless. I have cramps like WHOA but I guess i'll just be waiting it out sans Midol considering that I cannot get to a drug store or anything because I am trapped without a car, which worst nightmare! Ack! I don't know how I am going to survive the next three wireless....NO GYM I AM GOING FUCKING INSANE CRAWLING ON THE WALLS I NEED A HORSE TRANQULIZIER, SOME MIDOL, AND MAYBE SOME MARAJUANA ! STAT.


I am losing it, and it's called good old fashioned Midwestern Despair.

Tomorrow Lewis and I are going to go to Home Depot to buy power tools for our Moms and then kill each other with chain saws and hammers and overpriced drills.

I am going to go jump off a bridge, but because I am in Michigan all I can do is jump off a highway overpass.

GOD Marie, you are so negative!

Speaking of Jesus, how was the rest of your xmas? Did you eat any dead bovines?"

6) Having Everyone I Know in the Same Room:

Lo and I threw a housewarming party (one of our "reminder" invites, to the left to the left) in March '06 for our Brooklyn pad, and the night before I almost had an anxiety attack thinking of how it'd actually play out: I realised I was hopelessly and irrevocably fragmented and thus, in preparation, I drew a diagram to ease my mind. Lists help me. Each box contained a different set of guests and the personality they expected from me.

These are those categories/personalities, literally, transcribed word-for word (I do not include the friend/s who apply to each category, as that would be TMI) (haha):

1) Bitchy, smart-ass, distracted, hot, damaged, gay.
2) Crazy writer girl, talented/insane.
3) Emotionally distant, erratic, bi, impulsive, self-destructive.
4) Nurturing, creative, loyal, illusive, smart.
5) Goddess of mythical proportions (obvs does not know me at all whatsoever).
6) I am exactly the kind of person who'd have such disparate groups of friends. [sidenote: Krista was the only person in this box, obvs]
7) Ambitious & "quirky."
8) Undependable, tease, exciting/fun but flaky.
9) Workaholic, starving, anxiety-ridden, insecure, vanished.
10) However Lo's described me to her friends. (annoying? amazing?)

Obvs I delt with the panic that ensued when all these people did come together in one room by drinking heavily. I was so amazed that so many people'd shown up in the first place. It was weird.

A few weeks after that party, I started this blog. I hadn't wanted to ever start a public blog because I didn't think I could ever be happy with an image anyone who knew or didn't know me could consume. Except my grandparents, they can't read it because they don't understand the internets.

Consolidation of personality was part of the idea, actually, and in my first entry I said : "I think, especially now, my personality has become kinda fragmented. And although there are far more important things in the world then the Generation X Search for Self, it might be a good idea for me to try to consolidate myself into someone I recognize, and therefore not feel this deep panic when someone random asks to be my friendster."

And you know what's funny? It worked. And the difference between Marie and Riese and Auto-Win has continued to narrow even further than I'd originally imagined; not that in I'm revealing more, but that I'm becoming comfortable with this image, whatever it may be, for better or for worse. This flawed, half-finished, grappling, strange totes randomized weirdo of a girl. The idea of having a party and inviting everyone doesn't panic me at all. Well, the "inviting everyone" part doesn't.

The "having a party" part does though, clearly, because like, Who do I think I am?

"What I, like, dread is when people who know you in completely different ways end up in the same area. You have to develop this, like, combination you on the spot."
-Angela, My So-Called Life, Episode 1.2

"There are so many different ways to be connected to people. There are the people you feel this unspoken connection to, even though there's not even a word for it. There's the people who you've known forever who know you in this way that other people can't because they've seen you change. They've let you change."
-Angela, My So-Called Life, Episode 1.8


ms. malapropos said...

Last summer I went to a series of parties where I kept running into the same guy, a friend of a friend of a friend type situation. The first time I met him he was a super-straight-seeming(even amongst out gay people), book-of- Satan-worshipping, condescending, yet charismatic guy. The second time I saw him, he was a super gay, lying, paranoid freak; for his finale, he spilled cake all over me and hightailed it out of the party (after locking himself in the bathroom for 20 minutes) because he was so embarrassed and horrified. Then the third time I saw him, he was gay, with a boyfriend, and very calm and relaxed.

So, I told him that every time I saw him he seemed like a different fellow. He replied that that was because he has all these personalities and he doesn't know which one is him. I said that they all are. They're all him, just like all of yours are you. And it's okay to be any of them at any given time. And the more people see you flexing your various personality traits, the more they'll understand you and the more choices you'll have as to how to behave in any given situation.

Crystal said...

Peanut Butter M&Ms are my worst nightmare.

I had my coffee poured over my laptop once. It was only a week old, too, 'cause I'd dropped the one before that. The coffee wasn't an accident - someone got a little cranky with me. They'd threatened, but I thought they were bluffing. They were not. I probs deserved it. I feel like I've written this comment before.

kate said...

i need your t-shirt.

my system is down. it literally exploded yesterday and it's not pretty. my laptop broke about 2 weeks ago so to check my e-mail i've had to beg the IT guy at uni to reconnect my net access even though technically i'm not enrolled anymore. so this blog is really timely/appropriate.

also, even without the aforementioned dramas i love the t-shirt anyway

The Spaz said...

When I was in seventh grade I wrote a rap song called Peace in the Middle East. Our teacher was trying to be hip or with it or something and she gave us the choice between a long essay or writing a rap.

Natch I chose the path of least resistance and figured I got off scot free. She fooled me, I was forced to stand in front of the class and read it. That was like my worst nightmare.

Atherton Bartelby said...

My worst nightmare?

Capri pants on men. (Unless the men are visiting Europeans. *wink*)

On a serious note...

And the difference between Marie and Riese and Auto-Win has continued to narrow even further than I'd originally imagined; not that in I'm revealing more, but that I'm becoming comfortable with this image, whatever it may be, for better or for worse. This flawed, half-finished, grappling, strange totes randomized weirdo of a girl.

It's funny, or perhaps not, that I've been toiling with writing an entry along these same lines over the past several days (although, obvs, I've taken your quote out of context to write that, for which I apologize).

I think that it is important for us to see these different amalgamations of ourselves (good, bad; online, offline; real...or slightly "fictionalized"), and to embrace them.

As much as it is important for us to allow others to allow us to change, it is far more important for us to allow ourselves to change.

Shit does ANY of that make sense?

I certainly hope so.

Now go back to re-dreaming yourself, Riese; we all need to pull ourselves out of the SlumDays.

LainyRae said...


riese said...

Lainy: I'm commenting back to you first, because you've just left the most amazing comment of all time. That's all.


ms. malapropos: Dude, I was more engaged in that story than I've been in anything all day. I was like "OMG, is she gonna hate that guy?" And then at the end of the story when you said that you liked him, my heart was totally warmed. I'm being dead serious right now. I was like, omg, maybe I can do it? Yeah?


Crystal: I will remember that when I'm baking you Peanut Butter M&M cookies.

It may've been a comment or maybe it was in an email? I don't remember. I said it once and I'll say it again: If someone did that to me I would fucking freak out. FREAK OUT. Obvs look what happened with the Scotch and that was totally fixable. I think you told me about this one of the first times I communicated with you actually. I'm getting nostalagic now. Seriously. I'm weird tonight.


kate: You will have to come to the USA and un-dress me, because it's still on. That plan has it's benefits and drawbacks. I do have internet.


The Spaz: There is nothing about your rap that does not sound amazing. I wish all of life involved more choices of raps or long essay. I always preferred skits. Also, way to bring it back around!


Atherton: I agree about Capri pants on men and I have no clue why any man'd try to get away with such a thing to begin with, but I have seen it happen.

Re: the blog entry topic, dude, I have this theory which is that we all sort of write and think about the same things with more synchronisity than the universe can possibly comprehend right now. LIke, there's probably some grand overarching socical schematics at work.

That does all make sense and I like it.


Anonymous said...

re: #7, it's the most miserable place you can possibly imagine (a worst nightmare indeed)-we call it hell or prison. and being sans car is unfathomable riese. more jokes have been made about suicide between my friends and i when we are back in michigan than anything else. the haunting inevitable boredom and lack of life sucks you dry to the point you are begging to be back home safe in your big city, with all of the other people that made it out of the midwest alive too!

Dewey said...

My new obsession in life is totally your fault. After you frequently quoting Tegan and Sara lyrics and mentioning them more than once, I decided to go in search of this musical duo, who were there? I googled them, checked out their website, their wikipedia page and their myspace. I then decided to put them in a youtube search, and instantly knew I’d found a new love, I honestly have been singing, “Where Does the Good Go?” ever since I first heard it last week. I’ve asked a few friends if they'd heard of Tegan and Sara, played them a few songs, they said they recognised some of it but no, didn’t really have a clue who they were.... I told them they may have heard some of their stuff on tele, for example on Showtime’s hit series The Lword... as soon as I said that I could tell that wasn’t where they’d heard it from, their reply was something along the lines of, “the what word?”... my god my friends need educating, that gives me a good excuse to re-watch season 4 when it finally starts here next week.
So anyhow... it seems here in little England (I felt the need to put “little” in just because you live in the big US of A!) Tegan and Sara are relatively unheard of, or at least with my friends. But yeah, I have just got back from purchasing my new album, so, basically, thanks for introducing me.

lawlaws said...

My worst nightmare is pretty much the plot from that film 'the descent' and most of the X-files. I cannot cope with creepy, bile excreting, nosferatu/gollum bastardisations, that scared the living shit out of me.

And Eugene Victor Tombs, he was one helluva creepy mother.

I think this is why I never say something was my 'worst nightmare'. Because I don't think my worst nightmare could actually happen. I hope to god they can't. I don't want to live in a world where men can crawl up your pipes into your toilet.

Dewey, T&S are back in the UK on tour in February I think. You really should check them out live.

cait said...

My worst nightmare involves being trapped in an elevator with strangers. Making conversation, heat, strangers... Anytime I am in an elevator I look at the other people and judge whether or not I would mind being stuck with them... Most of the time I say silent prayers that we get to our destination without stopping.

Also, my mom called the internet the 'web'. She also says things like, 'when I was surfing the web last night...' Sometimes I think she's stuck in 1997, although she has found Google and now is the queen of random facts found via 'googling'.

Diana said...

My worst nightmare: Bedbugs. OH WAIT. THAT HAPPENED.

Last Nov I moved into an apt that, unbeknownst to me and my roommates, had them. They are Satan’s spawn. Other-worldy-evil, I tell you! I cannot even properly convey the horror and paranoia. (Horror and paranoia!!!)

I moved out in February and am currently going on 7 months bug free in a new place, but those might have been the most tormented 3 months of my life. There is mental scarring. I am still highly suspicious of every speck of dirt or lint.

This was totally one of those things that even though there’s some sort of epidemic or something in the city and you read about it in the papers, blogs, etc, you never ever think it will happen to you. And then it does and you’re just like in the name of all that is good and holy, WHY WHY!??? And also: aldkjfkaldjaf fuccccccckkkk.

Re: T&S…yep, obsessed. New CD is awesome. On perpetual repeat right now everywhere--work, home, in transit, etc. I’ve gotten no less than three other people hooked on them in the last two weeks, too. The love is spreading. Have you seen the video for Back in Your Head? You can preview it on itunes. Room full of crazy people bopping their head in unison in white masks and uniforms = worst nightmare #2.

Rebecca said...

Cait reminded me that my #7 worst nightmare is being stuck on an elevator and I have to pee really badly and when the firemen come let me out, I pee on them. This is why I never get on an elevator if I have to pee. I find a bathroom first, then elevator. So far, it's worked.

I laughed when you mentioned the movie being different than you remembered because I had that type of experience with the movie 'Ode to Billy Joe,' which is one of the worst and therefore best movies ever. For some reason I thought Robby(ie?) Benson was all down and dirty with the chick, but when I watched it years later, it was the man he got it on with. Was I too young to understand sometimes men sleep with men, or did the TV censors of that era edit it??? Robby Benson was my first celebrity crush. When I see pics of him from that era...he's still kinda cute. But also emo before his time. Which is not my thing now at all.

Anonymous said...

1) Love the hangover shirt. Seriously, if the copyright on that's fucked you should totes print em up and get em sold on here for over-inflated prices to fund the hedonistic lifestyle you could become accostomed to.

2) When you made the Willow reference my first thought was Willow(Buffy)and I thought you'd been smoking crack because who wouldn't wanna be kindnapped by Willow(Buffy)? Only the criminally insane! So thanks for clearing it up by providing a helpful link.

3) My use of grammer is probably shite but good post!

MoonKiller said...

I watched Crimewatch once when I was 7 and had terrible nightmares for like a year. They usually involved rape or getting kidnapped whilst in a car. I just learnt never to sleep but then my house would make funny noises and I'd get really scared anyway. It's like Catch 22. Although I've never actually read that book and don't quite get what it means, my mum tried to explain it to me once but I was drunk so it just flew straight by me.

My laptops like invincible. It's been through a fire and various coffee spillages. I also got a skittle stuck under the space bar which I thought was impossible because theres not a lot of room under the space bar.

I like sleeping alone. I'm known so sleep talk and I'm scared I'll say something I shouldn't.

Word veri: Puboig - Martians pubes.

Lozo said...

plaster176? plaster? huh?

i really don't have anything else to add besides that.

Anonymous said...

I'm adding to my last comment because I'm having a good drink:

4) I don't have many actual nightmares (3 or 4 in my whole life i think!) and I'm not sure if this is normal (I feel like I should be having more).

5) My worst nightmare is a combination of being trapped in an enclosed space and needing to pee/being in a socially awkward situation. I think both of those together might make my little heart fail.

6) Surely Mid-Western US of A can't be that bad! Surely you can still get drunk? If so, there's always something to do.

The Brooklyn Boy said...

RE: No. 6 - I'm definitely glad to see other people struggle with this because I've basically given up on trying to explain things like the obscure reference I just made about The-N or underground hip hop or celebrity blogs or baseball history. I wave off the comment and say, "It's a _____ reference that I promise made sense - I'm weird, deal with it." But it's not being weird - it's being curious, and following through on it. I'm the cat that buys a CD off a review or a book because someone friend mentioned liking the author seven months ago. Because of this, I get involved in different activities - spoken word, fraternity life, sports writing, blogging and everything else that requires a personality to be presented. I realized recently my blog personality is more manic than normal, just because of the ease of speed in writing, reading and reaction. Not to say that I don't edit - my writer's vanity forces grammar check and a last-second scan for anything egregious - but I mostly leave content as is. Like this comment. Ah, enjoy.

riese said...

Anonymous: Yes, hell or prison. Michigan sadness is a particular kind of sadness. It's like, flatlands, it's like you want to climb walls all the time but don't know how. We used to climb buildings for fun at night.


Dewey: AWESOME! I have to blame Carly, though I knew of them for a long time but had never bothered to listen to anything past "So Jealous" which is the number 2 most often played song on my itunes (well, number 3 now that "heart" has blasted even jeff buckley away) until Carlytron gave me all their albums. I feel like every lesbian in the US at least knows who they are, I think. In any event, yay! Spreadin' the T&S love worldwide.

And you should go to the T&s concert with lawlaws she is a big fan.


Lawlaws: I would also not men crawling up my pipes. I haven't seen The Descent, I usually don't watch horror movies because they all freak me out/give me nightmares.


Cait: LIKE IN SPEED!!! Did you see that? I used to FANTASIZE about that kind of stuff. I wrote plays and movies about people getting trapped in elevators or basements or it being like, the end of the world all trapped on the top of a building or something. I think that's because I imagined that'd be the only situation in which I could actually bond with anyone, because I didn't think anyone would really ever talk to me if they had the option of the rest of the universe to speak to.


Diana: O man! I remember when that happened in NYC last year. Didn't happen to me by some miracle. I totally thought it would never happen to me too.


Rebecca: That is a really good plan for the elevator thing. I mean, you nipped that problem right in the ass. I bet they totally edited it. I'm totes into "worst therefore best."


Anonymous: My Mom said there was this place at U of Illinois where they'd make their own custom t-shirts, they had heaps of randomly sloganed t's, and so I always sort of imagined that it is actually my Dad on the shirt and that he drew it, because the drawing looks like him. I should go on cafe-press right now. BUt really part of hangover shirt is the feel of the material, it's like a second skin.


Also, re, #6 in comment #2 (still you, I think?) -- TOTES NO ALCOHOL AT MY MOM'S HOUSE. My Moms don't drink because they used to drink too much. It's a sad state of affairs, thus my apparent desire for horse tranquiliziers.


Moonkiller: You should play a fan or an a.c. while sleeping because then you don't hear any noises. I haven't read Catch-22 either, but it's on my shelf because I'm going to read it really soon. I LOLed thinking about your skittle under the space bar. This MacBook is pretty indestructible. Still LOLing thinking about the skittle.



I was 13.


Brooklyn Boy:

I feel totally manic when I blog. And I feel the same way about like, all the references that you talk about and everything, and I just love your enthusiasm about The N. You blog way more than me you are far more prolific then I am. I need to pick up someone else's habits. Like bad ones. I'm not proofing this comment. I'm writing it while Carly is talking so my attention is divided, ADHD if you will.

I am also that cat. I take recommendations for everything. E.g., T&S, and also, I like, rip out magazine pages with recs, and yeah, I'm just like, into that. I'm sure I developed my own opinions about something at some point.


Anonymous said...

Fuck! totes sorry if I offended! I never think before I speak (or in this case type!). Hope I didn't offend.

And yeah re Willow(buffy) - I wanna know - Is it a nihgtmare to be kidnapped by her????

Re hangover shirt: I wanna say it's way cool you think of your dad that way but totes know that's inadequate as it would be totes better if you had him and not the shirt (obvs - to quote you) but yeah it's good you have the shirt. (I'm really sorry - I'm not good at sensitive stuf)

P.S You look Smokin Hot in hangover shirt if that helps!

OK feel a bit bad now so stopping my drunken commenting.

Lozo said...

oh, ok. i get it now. you were 13. i remember that age. all i ever thought about or talked about was....plaster?

riese said...


Wait you offended? I'm totes confused. I never get offended. I'm too drunk to look this up, but whatever it was, totes not offended.

riese said...

oh also p.s. still wearing hangover shirt. didn't get to that part, thanks!

The Brooklyn Boy said...

Yeah ... I'm starting to wonder whether the online/offline divide is becoming an issue. It really is completely separate worlds, and non-bloggers - even my "best" friends - have no idea that I'm serious, and expecting "social" people, when I plan on meeting the DC bloggers when I head down here in October. They've thrown around the concept of a happy hour for chrissakes! It's kind of weird to maintain separate "lives," and I'm glad the difference between "auto-win" and Marie and Riese has narrowed. I envy it. Maybe I'm just jealous you NYC and DC kids have counterparts who know the places (and even the people) that you're discussing.

I am enthusiastic about the-N because the writing - even when it's over-dramatic or the acting lets it down - is so fucking far past every other high school/college show I've ever seen, I can't express it in ways that convince people. I remain convinced Radio Free Roscoe is the best show no one besides me (and maybe five other people) have ever seen. I think I mentioned this before. It is worth restating.

I was about to dispute your accusation of prolificness, but I realized my average (16.4) is above your high (14), and my 21 post August is 33 percent more than that. However, your posts tend to have much more depth than my random mini-diatribes about work or poop (or both). When I do manage to veer into auto-win length, it involves much procrastination and more than a week in between.

But upon a third examination, I think you're right. I write a lot. I believe this is due to the catharsis involved in the act - once I write it down, I tend to stop feeling it, at least not as intensely as I did previously. An example: With the completion of the untitled poem I initially wrote for Sierra, the "feelings" I had been wrestling with for weeks coalesced into an appreciation for the relationship on its own terms, not what it "could have been." Why I performed it (and continue to)? Well, that's a decision I'm fairly certain I made on a whim, but something about that piece told me "share" and not "preserve." Creative license, it is mine!

I'm sure I developed my own opinions about something at some point.

I think what we do (I have a pile of recs sitting next to the comp at home) is the only way to truly do this - The recommendation is merely the impetus; it's the personal experience that forms the opinion. I'd often rather not disagree with the person behind the rec, but I'm not going to acquiesce if I tried and wasn't convinced of their POV.

Fuck. I'm more honest when I comment than blog.

For the record, as evidenced by the timestamp, I am typing this late at night (or early in the morning, however you do). There have been drinks involved, but I'm only claiming tipsy, and not wasted. Again, no editing, because in the end, alcohol = the truth you weren't ready to let yourself speak.

I definitely wrote that disclaimer waaaay before I finished the post. There has been time taken while composing. (Clearly - even if I typed super fast instead of speedy, this would still take a long minute.)

Razia said...

Dude I was totally in the middle of writing a post about the diff personalities with diff people thing and how I don't think I'm like that anymore but then I stopped writing bc I heard someone pouring a drink and also because it sucked. Yours, however, does not.

Also, random fact: your party was on my birthday.

riese said...

Anonymous: Now here in the clean sober light of day, I can also attest you did not offend, obvs, drunk comment your heart out! I love it. I tried to lighten the mood of the information by mentioning horse tranquilizers, but perhaps I could have been more successful in that regard than I was. Though clearly what this represents more than anything is that I'm not good at sensitive stuff either. I'm not Sensitive. And I don't get offended.

I don't think it'd be a nightmare to be kidnapped by Willow ... also, I never watched Buffy. But she looks pretty hot I think.


Lozo: I didn't know what screen name to pick and everyone had retarded ones like GreenDaisy and AbsolutBD and Nimrod (that'd be my brother) and mine had actually been RPopTart. But then I wanted to change it to something totally innocuous that no one'd have any associations with anything. I was like: "what is a very plain thing?" and then I thought, hm PLASTER! Like, plaster walls or something. Then my friend Jake became Cement671, my friend Catie became Mortar617. I think I've talked about this before.

Anyhow I LOLed when I read your comment and went "Oh, Lozo," and Carly was like "huh? back to work!" and I was like "Lozo's so funny."


Brooklyn Boy:

The best way to fix the divide is to eliminate your offline life, I think. Haha. It might be more of an issue for guys, possibly, do you think? It's probably a huge gender assumption but I feel like girls are more encouraged or accepted to have diverse interests -- sports and television and poetry etc -- than men are? Also, probs just a lot of grown men don't watch The N. Though you know who does? My little brother. I've never seen Radio Free Roscoe. I just think Degrassi is effin' amazing.

I just read your post. I love the old school Yankees. That's all I have to say about that. I had a long convo with Lozo a few weeks ago I think about my affection for old school baseball. Ha.

I'm also often more honest when I comment and blog. Once I thought someone'd found a way to build a feed of my comments in addition to a feed of my posts, and I was like "holy fuck, I am screwed" because I will say the most random honest things on blogs I don't think anyone I know reads that often. Haha. I'm so behind on commenting anywhere though lately.

I agree about writing it down helping to stop feeling it. That's like my life philosophy, even if I haven't started feeling it yet.


1. Yours does not suck either, and I'm saying that hypothetically, but I've got a good feeling about this one.
2. Drink up, kiddo.
3. That is funny about your birthday.

Lozo said...

hey, thanks. i'm happy to make you LOL while you're working on your script that will feature me as the dream gyno who makes the lesbian women question their lesbianism.

but i actually came here because i technorati'd myself and saw i am now an angel around YOU. i am utterly honored. seriously. totes. does this prestigous place on the sidebar come with any benefits? like free cheese? i've been drinking. but really, i like cheese.

Razia said...

Ok this would be a good time to explain to you what my friends and I call Janice Dickinson Syndrome:

It's when something has happened to someone else and for some odd reason you think that it has happened to you when in fact it most definately has not, all you have done is heard the story.

It has nothing to do with Janice Dickinson herself other than the fact that the syndrome first was noticed in the aftermath of a baking session, everyone was spilling their guts and trading war stories and a friend told us this horrible story that was supposedly her life and then five mins later she was like "oh wait, that wasn't me. That was on Janice Dickinson's True Hollywood Story. It was really funny but maybe you had to be there.

So why am I telling you this? Because it wasn't actually me who was writing that post, in fact no one else that I know of is writing that post. But I am reading Paint It Black which is about someone who dies and the leftover people have different versions of who he is. So, um, yeah. A brief JDS moment there on my part. But thanks for thinking it wouldn't suck, theoretically or otherwise. Obvs I am drinking up.

kate said...

t-shirt & internet...brilliant - it's a date.

Rhee said...

heres something to cheer you up...

#1 your blog is chocolate but in a non fattening way

#2 you talk about your friends so much that I've actually spotted them getting ice cream in McD's. Let me just say that Hav and Heather are smokin' hot! shame you weren't with them! I would have jumped up and said the must non-stalker-ish way!

#3 just cos :D

Dewey said...

Reading Rhees comment honestly made me think you should start like a "star spotting" bit on you blog, like on the It would be awsome like.... "marie and frineds in NYC!" It would be totally stalkerish obviously but the thought of it made me chuckle

riese said...

Lozo: I told you that I would reward you one day with something even greater than a label, obvs. I am a woman of my word. And I don't often extend my word. i like cheese too. I had some tonight. But I am still hungry.


Razia: JDS=Amazing. I thought it would lead to like, Janice Dickinson telling a story about something that had happened to her that actually had happened to Gia or something, but obvs your way is better. I think there needs to be another term also for when you start telling a story to someone and it's actually THEM that it's happened to, the person you're talking to.


kate: HOT.


rhee: AMAZING. I bet they were at the one on 9th avenue between like, 42nd and 43rd or something, right? getting soft-serve? I think I've been there 30 times, and only with Haviland.

I like being addictive. I'm addicted to my own blog (as in, writing it) so it works out well on all ends.

And you shoulda said hi, Haviland woulda been like hiiii because when we were at Uh HUh Her, someone talked to her for like, 20 minutes insisting they knew her because she was a STREET VENDOR. They were like "are you sure you've never sold like, incense in union square?" and she was like "um, maybe you saw me in Les Mis?" and they were like "Yeah I saw that last week" and she was like "that might be it," and they were like "no, you're a street vendor."

Dewey:Made me chuckle too. I think it would be an emphasis on "and friends" because seriously I don't get out much. And I wouldn't want the Australians to feel left out, haha. Nevertheless that is one of the hottest suggestions I've ever heard of in my life. I could give my own tips! Like "Dunkin' Donuts" would be my hottest tip for me.

Razia said...

JDS Type II? You know like diabetes. Or JDS C? Like hepatitis. Or maybe something totally random like JDS w/ cream. That would actually be a better name for a STD.

Mercury said...

Sorry to be so late in reading/commenting again again.

I totally know what you mean about being fragmented. Also I think I've identified as each of the different personalities you listed. I wonder how my list of different people that I am would go or how long it would be. I'm surprised I haven't made that list yet. I think I have actually, just not recently, not since its contents would've changed.

I am so tired right now.
udzajqbg. you doze a jack bag. obvs. makes total sense.

Rhee said...

yes, soft serve...8th and 43rd. I'm too shy to just hit them up and say holla, but Heather did smile at me.

how do I know it was meant for me...well there was no-one sitting behind me!

had to laugh at the street vendor thing, thats ridic!

haviland said...

Rhee -- thanks so much for the compliment...the funny thing is, I frequent that mcDonalds approx 3-4 times per week for the soft serve. It is, sadly, a "nutrition" staple!

You totally should have said hello. I am used to being recognized there for LES MIS, but if you would have said you knew me from auto-win, that would have been SO much better!

I'm sure Heather meant that smile for you...she's a sweet one.

Say hi if you see me again!