So we're speeding towards that time of year
To the day that marks that you're not here
And I think I'll want to be alone
So please understand if I don't answer the phone
-Azure Ray, "November"
November's my cruelest month. I love the weather usually -- chilly enough for layers but not too cold for long walks [well, but today, though, today was cold, and I was up with the lark for a job interview wearing my insufficient grownup jacket, the one my Mom got me when I graduated college for my then-anticipated grownup life 'round the corner] -- but the days numb over sometimes w/harsh memory. Last November was possibly the best I've ever had, howevs, see archives. There's only one day in November: it starts in the middle and then barrels out at you -- shooting from one side backwards into memory, from the other forward like the future because it is. Someone made a movie called 11:14, that felt a little cruel to me.
My Dad used to take us to Ohio: biscuits buttered in Crisco, football on the teevee, me getting antsy. Now; friends are family. Last year Lewis, my brother, was visiting, he made macaroni and cheese in New Orleans and brought it to NYC. [Al Queda, write that down.] I cooked, had people over, the next day Lewis & I got cultured at the MOMA with the other hipsters.
Are there any holidays I like? I'm like, Scrooge in the body of a 26-year old blonde-highlighted bisexual. Oh! I like: Passover, Christmas, Martin Luther King Jr. and President's Day. Hm. Labor Day's not so bad. Every day is Labor Day for me.
And then: nothing happened. We all went to sleep, and we woke up and asked each other "what did you dream about?" but no one remembered. We had to make up new dreams so as to not seem forgetful. They were like the ones we'd forgotten, only moreso.
So, One: Stef's birthday is Saturday night. Who'll be there? Lozo says he's not going, but if he doesn't go, I'm going to take back custody of the children, soooo ... I'll be there. Me, Haviland, A;ex, Cait I think, and Stef's weirdo friends. Maybe Natalie.
Two: Tegan & Sara is super-soon. Who will be there? Me, obvs. Carly, Vicky, Cait, Haviland, Stef ... you? Will you be there? I might die at the concert from excitement. I might just die!
That's what my hair looks like right now.
"You sound a lot better than I expected you to," my Mom said on the phone today/yesterday.
Yeah? Do I? I've got some strategies: 1. Y'all, 2. Hey, you, 3. Olive's continuing devotion to sainthood, 4. my complete single-moment-oriented focus. I'm seriously not thinking any farther ahead than the rest of November 9th. I'm trying to relocate my long-term goals. Where did they go? What were they? Am I making progress? What should I do with my life? Advice?
But ... I know on the 14th I'll have to talk to my Dad's family, who I've been deftly avoiding as there's very little shareable life material currently. All my biggest stories, good and bad, are linked to The Gays and their Fat Agenda or my Smack Addiction. What if I was addicted to Honey Smacks? That's a cereal right? It's possible I'm underestimating them. They could be reading this and wondering why I'm still feigning secrecy, but I really doubt it. If Reeseville -- seriously, totes not making that up, that's really where my grandparents live -- ever shows up on my sitemeter, I'll take notice. Also, it has a population of 63. If my Dad was alive, I would've probs been wearing combat boots and shouting feminist propaganda during large meals, toting a girlfriend, etc for some time now. But that stuff's not fun anymore, not when you're not just a niece/granddaughter/cousin but a Living Legacy, a Walking Ghost.
Anyhow, I'm gonna have to come out eventually if I end up settling down w/a lady. They'll probs disapprove with the fury of a thousand suns, blame my Mom, and make me feel like a bigger totes weirdo than I already do there. Like no one dug my skater pants and winter hat phase for some reason, I've never quite recovered from that.
end of this other blog -- kinda trying to condense my bad vibes around this debacle as much as possible.
And ... I wrote this on the day it happened:
Today didn't start out right: I was worried that I hadn't heard from Mr. Redacted's people. I called my ex, Jeremiah -- I'm naming him, because he's an asshole -- he's in the NYPD, I thought he'd have advice. I'd called him once this summer under duress, but he'd ignored it, and the last I'd heard of him before then was in March, when, following my rejection of multiple dinner invites and telling him I had a girlfriend, he let me know "I hope you go back to men. Have a nice life. I was worried something awful may've happened to Mr. Redacted's family/people 'cause this silence from them was completely uncharacteristic ... dramatically so.
I figured J's professional ethics might endear him to me, unfortunately, he is a douchebag:
J: "I think u have lost ur mind -- please dont call me again expecting me to get emotional about your personal problems - gbye and good luck to you .. :)"
Also, I feel like that text more or less sums up the mentality that's been grating at me. I've always felt like a bad person but I've been working hard this year to change that. I've got so many kind & generous friends but they seem unhappy more often than the assholes do. Are assholes too dumb to be unhappy? Too mean? Can you be happy w/o a soul?
J: "I apologize for being harsh with my words. If that is the only reason u call me (trouble) tho u should prob not call me anymore ok."Okay, perfect. Also, you're not invited to my party, and also, I am rubber and you are glue, and the human head weighs ten or eight pounds I can't remember, and I'm not sitting with you in the cafeteria anymore and also wtf happened to like, unconditional love? It's not like I handcuffed him to my air conditioner and made him install it or something. Or handcuffed him to the coat rack and made him hang it. As the above picture indicates, I was indeed handcuffed to myself, so obvs I think the world revolves around me. mememememe.
Me: "OK, well, I hope that you do call me if you're in trouble, as I'd always be there for you in emergency circumstances, even if we don't talk normally."
J: "Why would I need u for emergency help? Lol" [Sidenote: I dunno, 'cause you came to me w/all your girlfriend issues for over a year after we broke up? Also that lol makes me want to throw up all over you, and I hope it's not true.]
Me: "You're so right, I'm totally useless."
J: "Boo hoo."
J again: "It was great when we could speak to each other about anything but now it seems u only call when u need some kind of help i cant even provide."
Me: "I hope being an asshole is making you feel better, because it's not doing anything for me."
J: "im not being an asshole -- im expressing to u that im not here to get used by u yet again -- in a world where everything is about u! call me just to say hi ass."
J Again Surprise: "or dont call me at all - because right now i dont think very highly of you."
I think I'm going to have to edit this post later today because right now it's just a bunch of smack or something. Typetypetype.
And also: We are, per always, taking requests for vlog topics. Also when I post photos of half-naked women, because I think it's funny to do that, does that make you nervous to read my blog at work? Like, NSFW or whathaveyou?