It's a good thing "eating healthy" wasn't one of my resolutions, 'cause I think I've eaten more refined carbohydrates in the past three days than I did during all of 2007, except for when K-Lilly got that coffee cake that one time and then went back to Nevada, leaving me alone with the coffee cake.
Sooo ... I'm OCD about completing self-imposed blog writing projects but June's kinda making my head hurt. The YIR's intent is to review the year, but it's like when people ask me what my Dad "does" -- they're intending to initiate a nice convo about the Business School, but they're gonna get a convo about death. Right now, my intent's to review the year of fun and feelings, but we're gonna get what's essentially a convo about death. On a scale of 1-10, much of June is just too loaded for right now. At the time, I wrote as if what was happening wasn't happening, and I don't wanna just do that again, 'cause that'd be retarded. As Angela Chase so wisely noted in the classic television program My So-Called Life, "And I mean, this whole thing with yearbook, like everyone's in this big hurry to make this book, to supposedly remember what happened? Because if you made a book of what really happened, it'd be a really upsetting book."
But -- this is the thing about time: it just keeps going, therefore increasing our distance from the past, like we're in a boat sailing away from a seagull on the horizon on a nice greeting card. Before you know it, I'll ask: "June? Where are you?" and then a bluebird will land on my windowsill, warble some Frou Frou and inspire me to smile, giggle like a schoolgirl and post June.
Sooo obvs ... I thought I'd just skip ahead to July, but July makes Firefox crash on my computer. I think it's got something to do with the cruise video. Clearly I could read each post one by one, but I'm already in need of an Excedrin/Vicodin from debating June, so July! July! will happen when it happens. As Jordan Catalano once said on the classic television program My So-Called Life: "So my feeling is ... whatever happens, happens."
This is pretty interesting so far, I'm sure. You might think: is there a point to this, or is she just stalling while she tries to think of something to write about?
Wellll, I was surfing the 'net, drinking my Coca-Cola, thinking wouldn't it be WILD if I just started posting random shit. Like every day something new & random: a video of Haviland dancing with a dolphin, Limericks to Ilene Chaiken, a movie review, a postcard with my real secret on it, an interview with Lozo, a recipe for coffee cake, a recipe for disaster, a side order of life, an adorable photo of a cat with a caption related to mixing meat and milk (which you can't do if you're Jewish, because of G-d) ... and so on. It'd be like a Philip Glass concert, but on a blog. Then I thought I'm probs not smart enough to pull that off, like Philip Glass is waaayyyy smarter than me.
Then I remembered: this is what I created segments for, like the Carousel of Progress! (other "segments," mostly abandoned, include Great Mysteries of Life, What I Learned from The TV, Deli-Guy Blogging and The Best of Not NYC) Whee! Previous installments of "Carousel of Progress" have included a look at advancements in transportation (Fan of: Lexus(es), Not a Fan of: Airplanes), bottle cappery (Fan of: screw caps on wine bottles, Not a fan: the new Poland Spring cap), the internets (not a fan: myspace, fan: bartleby), small hand-held electronics (fan: i-pod, not a fan: cell phones), etc.
w/: Things I'm happy to do with.
w/o: Things I could do without.
Drinking Alcoholic Beverages
A lot of people decide to quit drinking for the New Year. I've never tried to quit drinking, ever. I mean, it's only recently -- after years of practice -- that I've really perfected my alcohol consumption skills (proper combo of sleep, enthusiasm, nutrients and drink) and! since moving to this apartment, I've only gotten super-sick from drinking twice -- an all time record for me. I think I probs threw up at 115th about 40 times. No lie. I had a lot going on. Obvs.W/O: Parents' Liquor Cabinet, Mad Dog 20/20, "Jungle Juice," Smirnoff Ice, Boone's Farm, Natty Light
My early high school friend Stacey's parents were Jehovah's Witnesses and drunks. I feel like those things aren't supposed to go together, but they did, so anyhow, moving on: I don't think I ever saw them awake. It was like they were robots with jobs and directly following said employments, their systems'd power off and they'd collapse immediately onto their beds to recharge for work the next day. Therefore, Stacey's home was always blissfully supervision-free and her parents didn't keep tabs on the liquor cabinet. Her basement quickly became public high school debauchery central and thus, at the tender age of 15 (I believe I was 5'9 and about 120 pounds), I got drunk for my very first time in her basement. Gin & Mountain Dew. Obvs I ended up throwing up all night. Stacey's bathroom had this huge wall-sized mirror next to the toilet (random?) so I could watch myself throw up as it was happening, which left quite an impression.'Cause early alcohol consumption isn't about preference or taste -- it's about "what can we get our hands on?" So I didn't really drink much in high school or early college 'cause Sunny-D & Rum didn't really appeal to me, nor did stale Dr.Pepper & Triple Sec. At 19, the corner store accepted my fake ID but didn't sell liquor, so we drank A LOT of Mad Dog 20/20 and Mike's Hard Lemonade and 40s of Mickey's Ice -- all of these things are gross. Now I just drink vodka-tonics and wine, 'cause now I'm a grown up and I can do whatever I want. AND to this day: I cannot handle gin or any lemon-lime flavored beverages, it makes me barf, hands-down totes.
W/: Public Transportation Enabling Additional Drinking
Because of the subways and the taxis, we can all get trashed w/o risking paralysis, death, or paralysis followed by death. When I was in Ohio a few weeks ago, I was carted on a family field trip to the local lounge to view a concert apparently involving a contestant from a show called Nashville Star, which I've never seen. Apparently I looked so ridiculously uncomfortable (tight posture, shifty eyes avoiding contact, panic-stricken every time another human dared to make physical contact) there that my brother actually asked: 'Wow, you really are crazy, aren't you?" I responded: "Yeah, I get nervous around other people. I mostly like to stay in my room." Also, I was plotting as to how I could use my Blackberry w/o seeming like one of those neurotic blackberry-addicted New Yorkers (therefore increasing my reputation within the fam as a pretentious and slightly psychotic asshole). Someone said something about how it's probs lame to be at this bar in Wilmington -- like to explain my weirdo behavior -- and I was like "Oh, I'm like this everywhere. It's not Ohio, it's that it's a room filled with other humans and I'm sober." Why was I sober? 'Cause I was driving. Why was I driving? Because I'm a weirdo control freak who doesn't like to give up control of her ability to come and go from a location as she pleases. This is why I live in New York and I never go out sober. I can't take social anxiety medication 'cause my body's already confused enough about what disorders it has, I can't do that to it.Social Networking
Apparently a lot of people feel they're "addicted" to facebook and/or myspace and must stop. I've never felt addicted to either of these things, which's good, because on top of crack rock and the smack and carbohydrates, that'd be a lot of addictions, very expensive. Except for the crack, I hear that's not expensive.w/Facebook:
I love facebook. It's clean, simple, easy-to-navigate, uniform and pure. Although, as Hav & I discussed in this vlog -- "enough with the applications already." If you want me to evaluate your personality or play trivia games or bite you, then say it to my face. I don't wanna dig through multiple columns of animated What South Park Character Quote is in Your Entourage Sandbox Quiz Game to get to the good stuff, like photographs of their ex-girlfriends. (sidenote: I actually have two rows of applications, which is more than enough, and trust me, I hate myself for it.)Here's the only updates I'm interested in: Any activities whatsoever performed by people I've dated/made out with in any capacity which includes "casually" (read: not much conversation) and "seriously" (basically married). Yeah. EVERYTHING. I don't even mind knowing if you're the number one L Word trivia master 'cause that's good information for me to twist around in my demented mind and think: Without me, you're so bored that you just took an L Word trivia quiz for ten hours, you're probs miserable in your sweatpants eating ice cream right now, crying and thinking about me. Just like I am also crying and thinking about me in my sweatpants. Other things I'd like to know: if my friends become friends with each other, if you've just received your auto-gear, if you've joined the Automatic Winners or added "My Books" because that's my favorite app, obvs. Everything else I am not interested in.
w/o Myspace trying to be Facebook:
Myspace: YOU MAKE MY HEAD EXPLODE. I don't prefer facebook for its status updates and the other features you're attempting to bring onto your site, I prefer it for not making my head/browser explode. Once you start letting people design their own templates, it's anarchy, it's out of control. Music starts playing, flashes start flashing, colors glitter and gleam and scroll and burst, graphics dance, slideshows pop up and freak out, and those fucking ads about shooting George Bush or whatever dance over my head like an annoying ad about shooting George Bush. Think of it this way -- would you let a 15-year old design your website? No, unless it's a genius kid, like I was. I'd like to delete my profile but I suggested that to Haviland and she went "NO," right away, like I'd just suggested that we all go eat some babies for breakfast (Haviland has a Snacks-4-Life cookie and a yogurt for breakfast). I deleted my myspace profile last year but then revived it during a particularly dismal week of life from that nasty month of June, and I'd like to have my old profile back, but I just love facebook now, myspace gives me a headache.*
Reading:
I like to imagine that everyone has resolved to read more books this year. I also like to imagine things about unicorns and time travel.Reading:
w/: Online Booksellers
I heart online booksellers 'cause now people can buy really embarrassing books sans embarrassment. Like you know how the first time you got condoms or tampons you got super-nervous, wondering "what does the cashier think of me?" when in actuality the cashier was probs thinking like "1 plus 1 equals ... hmm ... I wonder which episode of Grace Under Fire is on tonight ... I should paint my nails hot pink next time ..." but at bookstores, chances are the clerk really is judging you, which's why it's a good thing they don't sell tampons at bookstores. This affects me directly 'cause it means there's no excuse w/r/t ordering books I'm in like Dirty Girls AND 'cause I've been known to read YA novels & queer theory books and, once upon a time, tried to read erotica so I could learn how to write it. I found erotica to be 95% boring, so I just winged it. Winged? Is that a word? Not that there's anything shameful about queer theory, and I've bought most of my books at The Strand, but I don't think I could've handled making eye contact with anyone when I was doing book research via classics like Same Sex in the City: When Your Prince Charming Turns out to be a Cinderella and The Straight Girl's Guide to Sleeping with Chicks. See, I can write about it on the internet, but can't handle buying these books in front of a stranger I'll never see again and have never seen before. Why is this? I don't know. There are many things about life I do not understand.w/o: the gradual closing of every independent bookstore everywhere
I feel like we're just holding our breath before they all disappear, which puts major decisions about our reading choices -- e.g., front table selections -- in the hands of a few very rich & powerful people, and ultimately the entire culture will spiral into apocalyptic mass destruction. The number of independent bookstores in America has decreased from 5,200 in 1991 to 1,702 in 2005. Some of my favorites have shut their doors just since I moved here (Ivy's Books, Gotham Book Mart), and NYC is one of the best cities in the world for independent bookstores. That's bad news, guys. Here's a list which includes the remainders.*
Work Less, Play More:
Work Less, Play More:
w/: you guys who have jobs where you never have to do anything
I've come to the official conclusion that at least 75% of you read this blog while you're getting paid to do something else. I don't know how so many of my peers landed these lesiurely dream jobs of leisure that enable constant g-chat availability, facebook addictions and blog-reading, but it works to my advantage, clearly, and to the advantage of all people with blogs everywhere. Without boredom at work, there would be no blogs. There was a survey about this in '05 and Advertising Age did a story on it that you can't access w/o registering and paying, so I'll just tell you what it said: one-quarter of the American workforce reads blogs -- an average of 3.5 hours a week spent reading blogs at work. It's probs more than that now, 'cause I didn't even have a blog then. [No. Really; there's just more well-done blogs out there now than there were and it's become more mainstream too.]w/o: the constant work-related communication via handheld devices
I love my Blackberry 'cause I like the keyboard and its cute little interface and the fact that it informs readers that I'm writing from a blackberry -- my Dash didn't do that, so people probs just thought I didn't know how to format paragraphs, use punctuation, or change to a more aesthetically pleasing font. Howevs: this is clearly bad for us like -- as a society. It's hard out here for a hermit, you know?People really are working all the time now, and you're always expected to be on top of your shit -- work is bleeding into life and we accept this -- and somewhere along the line it became acceptable to use your Blackberry in social situations, like all the time. I do it too, but you started it.
The trick, as I've mentioned before, is to establish yourself as an unavailable person. For example, I haven't looked at my Blackberry or my email since about 1 P.M. But really the only person who calls me is the outsourced Indian girl who's in charge of harassing T-Mobile customers about overdue bills. And Natalie.
But I know working all the time is one of my problems, too. But I don't really care.
I've always been (to a fault) totally at peace with my vices -- and with yours, you know. I don't judge. Life is hard, I say. Here is something. Have fun. Have a drink. Go tanning. Smoke 'til your lungs turn to ash and crumble. Try to laugh. Everything is fleeting. Lose yourself. Let Go. There is Beauty in the Breakdown.
My Year in Review: a rollercoaster. Non-stop action, all-consuming denial, disarming reaction ... and sometimes vices were all I had because vices and habits are something, they are just something. They are something or something else. Maybe my blog is a vice.
Last year -- for two weeks of Depressing June and for much of September, October and November -- I indulged my psyche ... indulged the crash, the aftermath ... in a way I haven't done in years and years (though it used to be standard, daily, when I was an adolescent). I liked the silence & La Triviata and the sharp erect curve of my hipbones in my palms as I lost my appetite for all things concretely nourishing. Depression is like that -- it's a friend, it's full and satisfying and terribly entirely enough and I think that's the best part, is how self-sufficient & fearless it is. It's satisfied to only relate to substances or things or private action, it doesn't need anybody. Sometimes you can find someone else to destruct with you, and sometimes that makes it better, or at least more fun, less lonely. It doesn't have to be lonely, but it can be. It's a snap: your brain is here, in the world, and then something happens and your brain snaps again and you're Darkness.
I've had many Dark Ages, but never have I had a Dark Age that I spoke about as immediately as I did last year ... but there's something to be said for time before hashing it all out again in "Year in Review" format. There's insight, I think, in sailing a distance from the act, for not just seeing the light but like, chilling in it, nesting in it for a bit.
When June happened, I was "blessed" to be phone-less, since it'd just been stolen, along with other things, and I had no desire to replace it or anything. So when she wasn't here, I was alone and still and getting through to me was so complicated. I felt fifteen again, skinny & wry & elizabeth wurtzeled out to the max. I read Kathy Acker. I drank. I starved. I smoked cigarettes. I listened to my house phone ring. I would've walked into traffic if it hadn't required leaving my room. I lay on the bed. I pondered the colour of my walls, I stopped breathing, when I stood up all the blood would rush to my head and for a moment I'd pray to faint. I felt gutted, violent & quiet & small, I felt an emptiness so thick it broke into pieces, it had shapes: emptiness like spades, cleaving to my gut and simultaneously poised for attack.
And by the end of June I was the opposite of that. I was all action, all drunken and oblivious and during the daytime just productive -- at the writer's table with Carly and our index cards and new music and our teevee show and meeting new! people! and the summer, the hot hot summer, and then the cruise running on the docks with Heather and dancing at night with strangers who didn't feel like strangers and an august of revisions and refinements and job searching and working and sitting and freaking out and not sleeping, really, hardly, ever at all, and then there was September and I crashed back to that elemental state and then I started to crawl out of it in late November just in time for winter and it's respectful hibernation and now, I'm here, I've crawled out, ta-da! I'm ready! Watch me go! I've got a Blackberry! Contact me! Whenever! Hoo-ha! Processing Fees! The past six months! Just! Happened! I don't know what happened. I wouldn't've guessed that October would feel so much like June, but I'm glad to know that before I really wrote/"reviewed" either of those months.
I'm glad, for one thing, that there were times I said nothing, or that I waited 'til the very end of August to even address June, let alone talk about it.
So. A break from this look at the year. To see how the past plays out in this bright present. A break from my self-imposed decision to Review the Year. And talk about myself. To myself. Memeememememememe. blablabalabla. ( I sound like I actually think what I'm saying is important. That's a mask, it's totes not, you should read The New York Times.)
Because now it is 2008 and I can't say that there's any vice or habit I feel I oughta break right now, there's nothing I need to get rid of or add (nothing wrecking me more than memory) and so I guess, ultimately, my New Year's Resolution is less rollercoaster, more coast. Less false starting, more follow-through. I think: this is possible. This is already happening and this is everything/something. Things change, people change ... and circumstance, ultimately, hasn't prevented every person I know from becoming an even cooler person than they were last year. So.much.hope.
And then maybe, just maybe, in a year or two or ten, I'll get to that imaginary future I've been banking on all this time while I forgive myself of smaller sins. This place: where everything is stable enough, good enough, real enough, fulfilling enough -- that I can afford to let go of cancer-causing agents or devote myself to the physical evolution of various neglected muscle groups. Because when I think about the word "future," I think about rides in Tommorowland -- spaceships like seashells, people like machines with teeth like microchips -- I don't think about memememe getting old and still and satisfied and stable. But maybe I will. And then -- in this stable future I'm spinning and progressing towards, because that's how time works -- I will breathe.
*
we must pass
through solitude and
difficulty, isolation and silence
to find that enchanted place where
we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our
sorrowful song. But in that dance, and in
that song, the most ancient rites of conscience fulfill themselves
in the awareness of
being human
(Pablo Neruda)
*
we must pass
through solitude and
difficulty, isolation and silence
to find that enchanted place where
we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our
sorrowful song. But in that dance, and in
that song, the most ancient rites of conscience fulfill themselves
in the awareness of
being human
(Pablo Neruda)
*
26 comments:
The independent v. on line bookstore is a constant struggle for me. Ack.
Oh depression- it is so hard to not want to sick into it some days- its the easier place to be, the simpler choice to make.
Four things:
-Now that Frou Frou song is in my head. 'S all good, I like it.
-Depression does that to me too, except sometimes it goes the opposite way and I just eat and eat and eat until I fear I'll need to grease the door jambs to leave my house.
-In places like bookshops and record stores the clerks are judgmental. I like how they give you attitude for buying something popular. If you go to a coffee place nobody gives you grief for ordering the house specialty.
Oh look, another cafe au lait.
I'm always faintly embarrassed by what books I buy, purchasing books is so personal; its like you're wearing your heart on your sleeve just waiting for somebody to make fun of you.
I like the look of the Cinderella one you mentioned but would not actually go out and buy it because of the title.
Probably the gayest book I've ever bought (not counting the works of David Sedaris,) was Fingersmith. It was in with the regular fiction, no explicit graphics, the word lesbian wasn't even on the cover at all--it might as well have come in a paper bag.
-Is it just me or has word verification gotten easier lately?
Holla for Facebook not having as much suckage as MySpace. It's a little stalker-ish, but still better than the 'Space.
My depression is different, I don't eat and I sleep all day, so by the time I get help, I'm sick and skinny and just an all-around mess. Then I'm a nasty bitch for a week, and then I go back to being the nicest person ever. Right now I'm on the nicest person ever part. We'll see how long it lasts.
i have a problem of epic proportions!!my computer has stopped showing me your pictures...
& i didn't order my Auto-Gear in time for sunday - how can i done me now my gay apparel?!
i'm having a crisis...
beeteedubds holla at depression - its the fabric of our lives
(ps my word verification is sitpoo)
omfg - "done me now my gay apparel?!"
is supposed to be "don me now..."
listen up kids: bridget + box o wine + comment = unfunny
I'm in the same boat as Bridget...I need some auto-undies! And a credit card, that would be nice to have too.
JUNE:
These gifts you left
have become my enemies:
without them
there might have been
a moment's forgetting.
/Komachi/
NOW:
As I dig for wild orchids
in the autumn fields,
it is the deeply-bedded root
that I desire,
not the flower.
/Shikibu/
Cheers for progress. Oh, and for keeping with the resolution to read more... more books from independent bookstores/house-emptying sales of friends who are moving across the country to find their life.
I love what Dar said about depression for mpower:
"When I've felt like a less-than-worthy human, I've just felt more depressed in the face of such beauty! This is too bad, because beauty reminds us that life is meaningful, but depression has a way of making us feel inadequate in the face of loveliness."
Then again, I love most of what Dar says about things.
And mostly what you say about things too.
Sometimes depression seems like crawling into my old comfy pajamas and into a warm bed on a cold day. I'm safe there. How could it get worse if I JUST DON'T MOVE? But as Angela Chase wisely said: "It's good to get really dressed up once in a while. And admit the truth: that when you really look closely? People are so strange and so complicated that they're actually... beautiful. Possibly even me."
I sound smarter when I only quote other people.
so today i was listening to this mix i made year's ago, and the song 'dressed up like nebraska' by josh rouse is on it.
the lyrics start out
"you're trying to tell me some thing here in this place
all of your demons rest in my space."
and that made me laugh. because all of your demons do rest in myspace. it's okay, mine too.
word veri - luzfvxh
at first i thought the word veri was propositioning me - then i though it's totes making fun of jenny crazypants schecter. les fucks.
This blog just makes me want to call you on your blackberry and talk to you about life or something like it.
facebook applications will be the death of me. the worst is when people give you drinks. i'm like i went out with you last night you could have gotten me a drink then, what's with this fake drink that you've decided to shout me. geez. but facebook is still way better than myspace. for sure.
depression is a bitch. dead set.
Haven't finished reading yet. Calling dibs on Clinton for the Presidents Day party.
McDonalds and awkward sexual controversy.
if there's one thing i remember from working at borders, it's that we absolutely do judge everyone based on what they buy. it allegedly helps us decide what to recommend for you for next time, as though we cared enough to remember our customers. if you only buy magazines you're shallow (and the urban, sophisticated ladies of philadelphia used to call the magazines 'books,' which drove me crazy), if you buy romance novels you're an idiot and i hate you, and if you buy the da vinci code or harry potter i hate you forever inexplicably. and yeah, if you buy something off the top 20 or whatever i imagine that you are a sheep and i also hate you. if you shop there at all and don't buy things i'm interested in, i hate you because i hate my job and am only working there for the free books and tea. the only satisfying thing about that job: helping people find their books for summer reading, because then they would actually listen to my opinions about what they ought to read and that's more important to me than anything. and alphabetizing, which i found therapeutic.
if you bought an embarrassing or weird book, not only would i judge you for it, i would remember you for it every time you came into the store forever. jk, i never looked anybody in the eye because i was so ashamed to be making $6.75 an hour or whatever that i imagined everybody was a high school classmate of mine, judging ME, and i couldn't handle that. the one time i bothered to look up, it turned out to be my first grade teacher (who obviously didn't remember me, but made me wince all the same). i'd usually remember an odd book though, and i'd probably read it on my lunch hour.
you've only gotten sick from drinking twice in that apartment? was i the direct cause of both of those? hah.
Just like I am also crying and thinking about me in my sweatpants. - made me smile. also the word 'wurtzeled.'
are you ready for martin luther king day?!?!? i have so many things i want to peacefully protest.
I dunno, I work at a used bookstore and I definitely couldn't give a shit what people buy because I'm too busy playing scrabulous on fbook.
also, I can get all the gay books I want without having to face a salesperson. but I've discovered that lesbian erotica is boring. and super weird.
Speaking of My So-Called Life, I discovered that ABC has a couple episodes online, so all your talk about Angela and the gang pushed me to go watch one. I was reminded of why my teen self loved it so much!
On another note...I found your explanation on depression one of the best I've ever read. Seems there's lots of quoting going on today, but I thought I'd throw one in:
"I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past."
-Virginia Woolf
hmmmmm, i think facebook and myspace are equally awful. "hey, you've been vampired!" or "your friend has slapped you with a penguin cock. do you want to slap him back with a monkey cock? Accept Ignore." and myspace with the constant friend requests from smoking hot chicks with dating sites in their profile. "OMG! i can't show me hot pics here, so come to my site!!!!"
are you really planning on interviewing me? i'm not very interesting. i like lesbians, sports and poker. i'm not very well-rounded, but i have gained some weight since i can't work out still.
and that pablo neruda quote is hilarious in a way you'll never understand. i'll tell you about it someday. maybe during the interview.
Your indie bookstore figures make me sad. Who knew? Brings to mind Meg Ryan when she had to close the Shop Around the Corner and watched her child self dance with her mother before turning out the lights. sigh.
I'm off to investigate what a facebook application is. I only have myspace, maybe I should convert. All of you can't be wrong, right?
When I worked in a bookstore, I usually noticed what customers were buying, but didn't pay it much mind. Oh, except for folk like the lady who treated us like a porno library, stopping by every week to buy a big stack of new erotica and return the books she'd bought on her previous visit. I remember how v. "well-thumbed" those returned books were, too! :-)
In regards to your description of depression, AutoWin: you totally nailed it.
dorothy: It is the easier choice to make, absolutely.
the spaz: That Frou Frou song is catchy, it likes to live in loop in heads. I find overeating is more common amongst depressives -- I think it's a childhood thing ... like I was such a skinny kid, people always trying to make me eat more, so when I was sad, I protested by not eating. Most kids had the opposite experience, so their protest of life is overeating.
If you go to a little indie coffee place in Williamsburg and order a Grande anything, howevs, you might get told things like "This isn't Starbucks, the first henchman of the apocalypse."
Chrissy: On myspace, people can install counters to see who's lingering on their site, they can't do that on facebook. I think that's the main reason -- why -- it's more stalkerish.
Bridget: bridget + box o wine = best twist on a christmas carol ever.
I feel like there is a solution for both of you, but I'm not sure what it is. Re; gay- apparel. You don't need a credit card to use paypal though. Fyizeeee
elec-tri-city: I love how people leave where they are to find where they are. That is perfect -- June. True and succinct.
Stephanie: Yes, I love the song "February," I feel that song describes depression better than anything I've ever heard, because it doesn't attack it straight on. My truth: I've memorized that quote, the one you quoted, from AC. Inflections 'n all.
asher: I love that too. I love how they've taken the words "my space" forever and ever and turned them into something else.
Anonymous: That's totally adorable.
kazzie: Your comment made me LOL. I only like gifts that don't make sense in real life, like once my friend Stephanie gave me a unicorn, which was perfect. But if it's something that exists in real life, like just buy me a drink in real life, weirdo.
Anonymous: Hope you've got your joggers and sweatpants ready.
stef: Yeah, someone else just told me that they worked at Labrynth and totally judged everyone. I mean, I judged people at the Macaroni Grill on what food they ordered, i can't imagine what I'd do at a bookstore. Sometimes I just buy magazines. I applied to Border's. They didn't hire me.
I want, among other things in life, the word "wurtzeled" to enter the national vocabulary. And if it doesn't, I will be all about peacefully protesting this national disgrace.
Amanda: Scrabulous is one of those things I don't understand, it looks like something I could get addicted to and then let my life slip away from me. You know, addictions. Lesbian erotica is so weird. It's like every lesbian is into serious leather-related S&M and all kinds of weird labels of what they can and cannot do.
in kc: That's amazing, that V.Wolff quote,'cause I talk about that in the June post I didn't post ... here's another: ."I don’t think things are ever exactly the way one expects, and I don’t think things are ever the way one assumes they are at the moment. What I actually think is that one has no idea of what things are like, ever." (Deborah Eisenberg)
Lozo: If you ever slapped me with your monkey cock, I'd slap you back with a dinosaur or gorilla cock, you'd have to watch out. I wouldn't interview you about yourself. I'd interview you about lesbians and how to find humor in poetry.
MLissa: I know, they do, they so do, and to think there was a time when we used to dream of growing up and owning our own little bookstores, now that's like saying we want to grow up to be farmers, like, it's just not really a growth industry, pathetically so.
Ali: That's amazing! I wonder if she was an erotica writer. Anyone who returns books after reading them is clearly too insane to care what anyone thinks, or notice. (and thanks!)
You are totally adorable.
Yeah, that erotica addict was an interesting customer. She was really short and always wore a bright pink PVC raincoat. From behind, she looked to be in her 20s, but when she turned around she was revealed to be a wizened crone. All v. "Don't Look Now". But without all the death. Or the Venice. You know, it never occurred to me that she could be researching, though. I just assumed she had a really strong itch to scratch.
Anyhoo, hope you had a good weekend. I'll shut up now. :-)
I really don't want to be that nerd who's always gushing about the quality of your links, but, really: Joan Didion? Double suicides? Sex workers? Awesome.
Speaking of Ms. Didion, I've always wanted this t-shirt:
http://www.cafepress.com/ragingdork.11875080
I also briefly worked in this semi-independent bookstore, and I mostly judged people who bought The Secret, or called to see if we had The Secret, who generally could not eat or sleep until they had read The Secret. And people who bought Vera Bradley. (We were a dealer. It was one of ta giant bookstore that has a cafe, an "orchestral suite" and, er, a travel agency.)
Great post.
I always feel like the bookstore clerks are judging me also, but I kinda think that I'm almost encouraging it with my naff selections.
Work once gave me a Blackberry, but I lost it when my over-enthusiastic ex-boss started contacting me 24/7. Now that you have a Blackberry I feel like I'm almost carrying on that tradition.
I prefer to use facebook, but i hate all the chain mail i receive. i don't remember receiving chain mail with myspace. There is a facebook application just for chain mail, i think its called funwall. well thats all i ever receive on there. So not only am i being bombarded by email accounts, but my funwall is turning into a Dull wall.
My,"really papi, really?" tshirt arrived today!!!....actually it arrived two days ago...but i got it today! YAY!
Im also currently listening to the autowin soundtrack tht came with it.
All is good!
anonymous: I bet you are, too.
ali: I like that - " a really strong itch to scratch."
fragolina: I don't want to be that nerd who's always gushing but I love that you loved all of those things. Also, we have a character in the sitcom we wrote who's obsessed with "The Secret" because it's such ridiculosity. I love America.
crystal: I like to carry on your traditions, mostly, is the thing. And I guess it's hard to judge someone who doesn't give a shit what the judgment is, so to speak.
shavain: By chain mail do you mean junk mail? I felt like I got way more of that on myspace. But also, there is nothing fun about funmail.
dewey:Yay! That is all kinds of awesome. International shipping = rock.
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