Showing posts with label vampires. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vampires. Show all posts

Saturday, June 07, 2008

H & R! Haviland and Riese Advice Column #1: You've Got Feelings, We've Got Answers

Hello! Welcome to the first installment of H&R: Haviland and Riese's stunning advice column. This is where we fix all your problems instead of fixing our own. By default, we're answering the first five e-mails we received but keep 'em coming, and we'll keep on coming ... all over the keyboard. Also, P.S., my Mom is here this weekend, and she's: 1. watching some weird "Broadway Promos" channel where Mary Poppins is singing crazy, 2. Convinced I need to get a master's degree in social work, so that I can devote myself to advice. That's great advice. That's exactly what I need to do, is pour additional money into the University system, which's so far proved immensely useful. Anyone want a ten page paper on the rise of the modern American novel? I'm selling it for $10, it's a buyer's market. 3. Is now telling me that I need to begin this column with a disclaimer that we are not mental health professionals, we are "literary" and "humor." If you have a real problem, you should see a professional. Like my Mom, the social worker.

Mom: "If someone asks you advice about killing themselves or killing somebody, you need to direct them elsewhere. People take things seriously and they will find you and track you down and kill you. If you think I'm joking or exaggerating, I'm not. You think I'm being overdramatic, don't you?"
Me: "No! I'm trying to transcribe, you're talking too fast."

Got it? Okay!

Also -- we'd like to invite you -- the reader -- to chime in with your advice if you've got it. Also, this is sort of a test run. Hav's coming out to NYC in a few weeks, so we'll do an advice vlog for a few special questions, and we're gonna cover some questions on ichat, etc. So send us more questions, we need more questions, more! more!

Dear H & R,

My new boss recently relocated desks and is now sitting next to me. Her ringtone is 'Clocks' by Coldplay, and every time I hear it ring I want to throw myself off the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Her taste in music is severely affecting my time in my cubicle. My co-workers have advised that raise this issue directly with her, however confronting people just isn't how I roll. If you could suggest a more passive aggressive solution to my problem then it would be well appreciated.

-Cold for Coldplay


Dear CFC,

Haviland: Confront. Srsly. Try this, "hey, would you mind turning your ringer to vibrate?" You obviously need to learn to be more aggressive. Do it with a smile, and your boss will understand. She's being very disrespectful to have a cell phone ringing in the workplace, anyway! This happens in dressing rooms all the time, and the best way to go, for sure, is just to ask nicely. I'm all about the direct approach. (of course you could just say, "oh em GEE!" every time it rings, but like i always say, why waste that kind of time?)

Riese: Although I'm a big fan of passive passiveness and aggressive aggressiveness in relationships w/friends, I fully support passive aggression in the workplace. What Haviland is suggesting is the kind of thing you might do if you were a confident, pro-active, forward-thinking problem-solver with a great deal of poise and direction. I'm not like that, I'm a wimp at work. Let's go:
1. Find out what music she hates the most and make that your ringtone, then set your phone to email alerts so it'll go off all the time. I can email you all day. Oh wait, I already do, Secret Person. She'll get so annoyed that she'll start to question her own behavior.
2.Next time it rings, grab it and throw it against the wall and go 'I HATE COLDPLAY!'
3. Start playing "Clocks" by Coldplay on an old-school boom box on repeat all day so she can't tell if it's her phone or the boom box. And if she's like "Stop playing Clocks on repeat all day, it's annoying," say, "Funny you should mention that ..." and so on.
4. All of those things take longer than just confronting, but c'mon, what else are you gonna do at work? Work? Right-o.

Dear H&R,

My girlfriend is moving cross-country to live with me (we've lived together before, so those dynamics are worked out). So, what should I do to make things easier for my girlfriend when she moves here? I worry pretty equally about the outcomes of either forcing her to hang out with my friends endlessly (whether she likes them or not) or leaving her at home alone all the time while I go socialize. Not that I don't think she'll make her own friends, of course, I'm just worried about the transition period between cutesy I'm-so-glad-you're-finally-here-let's-do-everything-togetherness and normal (somewhat separate, I hope) lives. Any advice would be appreciated.

-Full House

Dear FH,

Riese: So I have this theory which's that people expend the least amount of effort possible at all times in order to make it from sunrise to sundown without slitting their wrists. Which's just to say that if she gets on w/your friends straight away, she'll probs never bother to make her own, and then you'll be trapped in a 24-7-togetherness that'll eventually lead to either double suicide or the end of sex. I think you must ask yourself: "Do I truly want my girlfriend to attend this social event? If we didn't live together, would I invite her?" and if the answer is "yes," then invite her. But if you start inviting her for any reason besides a genuine desire to have her there (e.g., obligation, wanting her to feel included), that'll get unhealthy fast.

I did the cohab thing once. Howevs, 'cause I'd cheated on my boyfriend with a pledge at his fraternity as a prelude to what I saw (incorrectly) as our impending breakup, I was actually formally prohibited from attending his social gatherings. Then about four months post-cheating, he went out of town and his "brothers" invited me over and ragged on him all night and I had an a-ha! moment. Was there a point to this story? Oh, then I dumped his ass and his "brothers" helped me move out. Don't let that happen to you. Hey-o!

Ok, enough about memememee. Also, totally JK'ing, I just wanted to talk about myself and be humor, that would never happen to you, speaking of you; let's get back to you. Leaving her at home alone won't do anyone any favors, 'cause she's not gonna make new friends with your couch (howevs, there is the internet!). Work or school will be the best area for her to have a life separate from yours. Also, make out frequently and when she arrives, answer the door in nothing but whipped cream.

ALSO! (omg, I have so many feelings about this) If it's a big group gathering, you never know who your gf will click with. Maybe she'll end up being besties with a peripheral friend. Magic social evolution! KaZAM! It's not bad to have many of the same friends as your girlfriend, it happens often, just try to be aware of it happening organically instead of by default, if it does.

Tinkerbell says that your girlfriend wants a vodka-tonic and a back massage.

Haviland: I basically agree with the Riesling, except I haven't had the experiences of which she speaks, with the frat boys, etc. The main thing is to make sure you're still living your life, even while she's entered it. You absolutely do want to make her comfortable, but not at the expense of making yourself miserable. Make sure she feels like your place is also her place, and that can be as simple as picking out some cute things to decorate - candles, throw pillows, autowin collages, whathaveyou. I'm hoping she has a job, and she'll be able to make friends there. In any event, you should talk about this with her - tell her your concerns and that you are excited about making a life with her, but are cognizant of being too codependent, and want to keep your relationship great and sexy and honest and healthy. Hopefully she'll be respectful of your alone time with your friends, she'll meet her own, you'll have date time, alone time, etc...and it'll all work out. Just keep those lines of communication flowin'. (Did I just say that? oy...)

Riese: The main thing is to be sure you make an effort to maintain some romance and mystery -- a romantic night out is often less romantic when you witness your partner preparing for it, instead of seeing her just show up looking fantastic. Don't pressure each other to check in all the time (it's nice sometimes to go to Wal-Mart w/o your SO knowing you're going to Wal-Mart) and be sure you have lives just separate enough so there's still stuff to talk about. Like don't be "How was your day?" "Um, you should know, you were there for the whole thing." Etc.


Dear H&R,

How can you make people attracted to you without always having to be the friend... i.e., I would rather not be Ross to the Rachel, the Will to the Grace ... In other words ... what do I do?

-Friend Without Benefits

FWB,

Haviland: Oh, honey, haven't we all been here! You can't make anyone like you, dear - it'll just happen. If you're into someone and you're not sure if they reciprocate, flirt a little bit and try and figure it out, or ask one of their other friends. Leave a little "circe" (gift) at their place or at their work...nothing too romantic at first - better if it's sweet and/or funny. Make sure whatever it is can later be sluffed off as being a friendly gesture, but also, something that, if they are into you, they'll think is super sweet. If you find that they aren't into you, let it go! Don't waste your precious time obsessing over someone with whom it just ain't gonna happen!

Riese: I think what Haviland is saying is "lower your standards." Howevs, I think you can sometimes win someone over by showing them (subtly!) you can treat them right (if that's what they want) ... or by making yourself indispensable to them, like make them super codependent on you and then be like "look, either we take this relationship to the next level, or I'm outta here," and then they're like "fuck, I better keep you around otherwise who's gonna make dinner?" Mostly, I'd say that you need to talk about other romantic exploits (make some up if you don't have any) to make yourself seem like you're being desired by people all over the world.

But srsly, the most attractive trait a person can carry off is confidence. If you don't wanna be slotted as a "friend," then you need to be someone who knows what they're doing. Don't confess anything embarrassing or radiate neediness or inexperience right away. That'll come later, once you've already had a few rounds of riding the hobby horse wink wink.

Also:
1. Axe Body Spray.
2. Be mysterious and aloof, or better yet -- mysteriously aloof.
3. Didn't Ross & Rachel end up getting married? Just sayin' ...
4. I believe a great pop song once sang, "I can't make you love me if you don't, I can't make your heart feel something it won't." Right? Yeah. Think about it -- you can't force someone to be with you and you wouldn't want to. If they don't see how fabulous you are, then they're not the "one," 'cause "Thinks I'm fabulous" is a very important trait in a partner.
5. Get drunk and go to Manhunt.com, it works every time.

Haviland: I agree about the confidence thing, but the other advice? hm...maybe the axe body spray...this is a very good idea.

Riese: Secretly, I think my brother wears Axe Body Spray. And for someone with my genetic makeup, his luck with the ladies is not too shabby.

Dear H&R,

I've been with my girlfriend for about ten months. We're good together. The only problem is, she bites me. Really hard. I don't know how to explain away neck and shoulder bruises. What do you suggest?

-Bitten


Dear Bitten,

Riese: Listen up, Semi, I told you to just say you fell down the stairs! Oh wait -- ten months. NM. Um, okay anonymous Bitten, if you were my friend and you had neck and shoulder bruises and I was like, "what are those?" and you went, "my girlfriend bites me. Really hard," I'd be like HOLLA! and give you a high-five, and then we could go to the record store and have a few beers, maybe listen to some rock n' roll, etc.

But seriously, I think you need to make up a story -- like tell your girlfriend, "OMG, so apparently everyone at work has been chatting about my shoulder and
neck bruises and they think that you're like, abusing me, or -- I dunno, everyone's looking at me funny and thinking i have some sort of sordid secret life. So you have to stop! I know it's hot and fun, but I can't explain away these bruises forevs!" or something. Also, are you sure she's not a vampire and she's actually eating your blood? I think there was an L Word episode about this.

Haviland: I don't know about "making up a story." I'm never a fan of this. Do you like the biting? If not, then just ask her to stop, that you're into her, but not into that. If you do like it, you should just ask her to take a nibble on all the places that people at work won't see. What I would do is tell her she's really sexy (make sure to boost her up, so she doesn't think you're putting her down) and all the true things you love about her and her biting, but tell her you're afraid people are staring at your bruises. Suggest some places to nibble that aren't so visible.. In any event, talk to her about it - tell her this is kind of hard to bring up (obvs it is if you're writing to us about it and not just talking to her) but that it's important to be honest, because you do really think the relationship is great and that you're good together. This is a minor thing. The thing is, if you're in an intimate situation, and your mind is on "omg there she goes with that - how am i going to explain it this time?", then you're not really being all that intimate, and your mind is taken off of her. And don't you think she wants it to be on her and how good she's making you feel? So, thats the deal...communicate.

Riese: While we're on the topic, FYI ... DO NOT TOUCH HAVILAND'S FACE."

Haviland: "Do NOT touch my face."

Riese: "I just had another idea -- coat your body in poison, like people do when they don't want to bite their nails."

Dear H & R,

I came out to my parents two years ago, when I was 18. My mom's Cuban (w/very strong religious beliefs & "family morals") and my Dad had just been getting back into religion again. My mom stopped speaking to me for five months and my Dad thought I should let go of all my sins so God would forgive me, but I don't like being forced into religion ... or anything. Also, they asked me not to tell my younger brother, who was 15 at the time, and I agreed to wait 'til he was older -- I guess I wanted to give my parents something.

Last November, I put my foot down. I told my Mom I didn't want to just be "tolerated" and I had a right to tell my brother and so I did. He said he kinda already knew but it was still weird and when I tried to talk to him about it, he'd just shut down.

To make everyone else comfortable, I never talk about being gay or about girls I find attractive, but it's getting to a point of ridiculousness. Today I was driving my brother home from school, listening to Katy Perry's CD -- she sings "I Kissed a Girl" and "UR So Gay" (although Perry herself is straight). My brother FLIPPED OUT and asked me to change the song 'cause the last seven songs have been about "that." He can't even say the word "gay."

I love him so much and I'd do anything for him, but I'm getting so tired of trying to make everyone else comfortable while sacrificing being myself. I don't ever overstate it or throw it in anyone's face, and I never would, but I think listening to a song that mentions girls kissing each other or uses the word "gay" shouldn't be a problem.

Am I overthinking this? How do I approach my brother w/o him shutting down? Do I have a right to feel the way I do?

-IM So Gay.

Riese: Do you live at home with your parents? I feel like maybe you feel a little guilty for being gay 'cause they've told you to be, and that repressed self-loathing enables you to not feel you've got a right to actually be a whole person and demand that your whole person be loved and respected like everyone else.

Have you had a girlfriend? I'd suggest that you find a smokin' hot girlfriend who's totally into you, and then bring her over, and your brother will think it's hot and your parents will be like "omg, there are lesbians who don't wear flannel and chop down trees with hairy armpits," and she can win them over, etc. Actually I think what I am describing is a prostitute (not a bad idea!) In general ... I think it's hard to live your life feeling any kind of guilt for how you've chosen to live it. You'll never be able to feel fully comfortable in your skin until the people who love you can look at your skin and your face and your whole self and say, "it is good."

Haviland: I have a lot of feelings about this. Do you have anyone in your extended family or family friends who could be your ally on this, and help you to talk with your family? You need a team. Sadly, many, many people go through what you're dealing with - a family who believes fully in the "don't ask, don't tell" policy. So you're left feeling that if you even reference possibly thinking someone might be attractive, that you are being sinful and inappropriate and wrong. YOU ARE NOT WRONG. It's amazing that you told your mom you didn't want to just be tolerated -- maybe you can take it a step further and get her help on this? I think it freaks out families to think of their kid/sister as being gay because it, annoyingly, puts their mind into thinking of that person (you) in a sexual situation, and no one wants to think about their sister or kid having a sex life. What's important for your family to understand, and MORE importantly, for you to really be at peace with, is the fact that being a gay is really not a big deal. Really. Instead of dating a guy, it's going to be a girl. That's all. Align yourself with an ally or two, or 100. They are out there. You've found a blog full of them here, in fact! Didn't Jimmy get the memo that lesbians are hot? Send him the links to our websites! I'll leave you with this, from "Silent Legacy" by the Queen of being guilt-free about who you are, the extraordinary Melissa Etheridge, "Mothers, tell your children -be quick - you must be strong. Life is full of wonder. Love is never wrong."

Riese: I think you need to ask your Mom what it is precisely that concerns her -- is she worried you'll be poor w/o a man 'cause women have unequal earning power, or that you'll be ostracized, or is she legitimately worried that you're going to hell? Confront those concerns head-on. (Directly to the forehead.) Also, I feel like a lot of homophobia stems from the homophobic person being angered by/ashamed of their own gay feelings (a.k.a. The Fairbanks Syndrome) (see also: the evangelical Christian preachers getting blown in gas station bathrooms). 'Cause sometimes we're all a little bi. Ask your brother what exactly it is that bothers him -- is he embarrassed? Grossed out? (and if so, point out the idea of thinking about him having sex with a girl also grosses you out). Maybe if they're just worried what other people will think, you can offer them your closeted behavior around their friends and family in exchange for love within your immediate family. Or say you understand they don't approve, and that that'll never change, but you'd like to be able to be yourself around them, and that accepting you doesn't mean they're backing down on their beliefs. Ultimately it's their problem -- you've got no problem with how they live. They're the ones creating all this drama.

They need to know it's not their "fault," and that it's not gonna change. Show them books and movies and shows and Ellen & Portia! As long as you internalize their loathing, they'll get away with it -- they probs still think you can change, 'cause they don't understand that it's a part of you that you can't change. Once they do, they'll realize they've got two choices: accept it, or loose you. And the art of losing is hard to master, no matter what Elizabeth Bishop says.

FYI; there's nothing in the bible against lesbians. Just -- so you know. As Ruth told her gay son in Six Feet Under when he came out; "I don't get to chose which parts of you that I love like some kind of chicken."

Haviland: Yes, asking your mom what scares her so much would really put the ball in her court. Also, the more I think about it, I feel annoyed by everyone always saying that they aren't flaunting their sexuality or whatever - like as though you are walking down the street naked, waving a pride flag? I don't really get this. Most lesbians I know are pretty boring, actually - they live in homes, some of them have kids, many of them engage in gossip and obsession, not unlike seventh grade girls...but basically, if "flaunting" it means just being cool with who you are, whats the problem with this? I used to feel awkward about holding my girlfriends hand in front of my parents. But then I had to think, ok, if this were a guy, would I feel awkward? Well, probably. But the point - when you are passionate about something, don't you want to share it with the people you love?

Riese and I obvs have SO many feelings about this, and since I've been thinking about it for 15 years (srsly, I'm not kidding about that), I have a lot to say, and I feel like many of our readers might have thought a little about this, too! So, let's continue this dialogue!

Monday, January 14, 2008

UPDATED! Sunday Top Ten: You Tell Me

On Sunday I said this: "I'm accepting suggestions for the Sunday Top 10, as "The L Word" and other catastrophes* are crowding my brainspace. It's my job here at AutoWin to provide the illusion that it is possible for a semi-intelligent human girl to produce an endless flood of ideas, howevs, this is not true. Therefore, I'm fully prepared for the possibility that no one else has any ideas, either. But I thought I'd throw it out there. If I pick your Top Ten topic, you can win an auto-apparel item of your choice pending size availability. Or stickers. Um, or nothing. Soundtrack? Haviland? Just the joy of the game. The spirit of the game? It's not if you win or lose, something something. OMG, I feel like Snoopy or something, it's really gross. Hm. Well, here goes.

*JK!"

Now it's Monday. There are so many beautiful Top Ten ideas, I barely know where to begin! Some of the ideas are kinda similar to stuff I've already done, but I think I might end up doing alot of them as time continues to go on like sand through a hourglass. I've put the list of all the ideas here. And I'm thinking about it. Input is always welcome. I also have to get a passport today and a number of other important tasks, but this is totally like the top top ten list on my list of top things to do for the day of today.

Someone suggested I do a Sunday Top 10 of the Best Top Tens. So, while I ponder the next Top Ten, here's an old school link dump for ya'.

Ten Best Top Tens of 2006:
12.28.06: Top Ten Books of 2006, Some of Which I've Actually Read
12.24.06: Things They Are Better At Out Here in the Heartland
11.26.06: How to Provide Visitors With The Ultimate NYC Experience
11.19.06: Relationships I've Had With Animals
10.29.06: Revivals
10.15.06: Reasons Apartment 1A Is not A Place For Good Clean Living
10.8.06: Things That Are Cuter than Cute Overload
10. 1. 06: Yom Kippur Edition - Things I'd Like to Repent For
8.20.06: Things I Would Like Back, Please
7. 23.06: Appearances by Flannel Shirts in My Videos From Middle School

Ten Best Top Tens of January --> June '07
1.30.07: Why You Don't Want to Date Me
2.27.07: Dreams You Want to Hear About
3.25.07: Apartments I Want To Live In
4.15.07: My Skills
5.8.07: Potential Reactions To The Loss of One's Sunday Top Ten
5.13.07: Summer Scattergories
5.20.07: Requirements for My Unpaid Intern
5.28 & 5.31: Top Ten Clubs To Which I'd Be a Member: Part One & Part Two
6.11.07: I Am Not The Only One Without a Phone
6.19.07: On Camp

Ten Best Top Tens of July '07 --> December '07
7.2.07: Team Awesome's Gay Teevee Show Is Unlike All Other Gay Teevee Shows
7.22.07: Things That We Lost Along the Way/Concepts Abandoned Prior to Execution
8.13.07 & 8.16.07: Things I Want to Do Before I Die Part One and Two
8.30.07&9.2.07: Worst Nightmares One and Two
8.23.07: Live Through This And You Won't Look Back
9.16&9.20: Dream Jobs Part One and Two
10.2.07: Great Mysteries of Life Part One and Two
10.22.07: Things That Were Harder Than I Expected
10.28.07: Things You Might Not Agree With
11.26.07: Cities I Could Totally Never Live In

The New Sunday Top Ten will drop on Tuesday, fo'serious ...

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Climbed Up on The Rainbow Just to See If I'd Fall Off

8:40 P.M., Friday: If you're reading this, then you already know. [Name that movie.] I need a new post here. I'm going to live-blog tonight. Live-blog what, you may ask? I am going to live-blog life. You know why people like blogs, I think? Because, unlike all other forms of narrative storytelling, you've really got no clue what'll happen next. No one does, you know? Because it hasn't happened yet. There you go. Who knows where these thoughts come from? They just appear.

I've got a lot of things to say, you know? Like, right now. But also, it's hard to get my thoughts together because I'm on so much crack, heroin, smack, dope, um, whatever else the kids are doing these days. I don't know. I'm obviously too cracked out to even notice.

9:04 P.M. : I'd like to apologize formally to everyone who probs was driven insane by the inordinate amount of spelling errors during the early days of Auto-Win. I don't know if I can say anything to make the pain go away, but most of them are fixed now.

9:49 P.M.: You know what's funny? When I first started blogging it didn't even occur to me that I was risking something via truth. I didn't have a sitemeter or have any idea how many people were even reading it until about November, but I suspected it was approximately "2" people. (Haviland, Lainy, Lo sometimes but from my same IP so that doesn't count) I thought I was lucky to have a job that didn't care, I never talked about it, and etc. Like, I honestly didn't understand why some people didn't use their photos. As a writer, I'd obvs put my name on it, my real name.

But the first blog I think I ever read was Waking Vixen, who talks about her vagina way more than I even think about mine. Most of the blogs I read were blogs that either made fun of New York, told boring stories about how it's so hard to find a good man in NYC omg my ovaries waaaa, or were about sex or erotica or something. When I started blogging, I thought I was being pretty clandestine -- as long as I wasn't smoking crack in a video blog, I could make jokes about crack -- which honestly, I've never even seen in my life, let alone used -- as I wished. I didn't ever think Auto-Straddle would be highlighted for explicit content. Also, obvs this is Ilene Chaiken's fault like everything.

I realized over the summer that I'd have a tough time garnering employment with the kind of internet presence I had, regardless of my blog. But also, i was honestly just realising that people cared about that shit, I figured people were logical and reasonable. The only reason I ever googled an intern applicant in my old job was to see if they were hot or not, 'cause obvs I'd rather boss around a hot intern than a not-hot intern. If a blog had come up, the only way it could've affected my decision negatively would've been if:
1. They were a douchebag like the people I was gonna work for.
2. They couldn't spell, but like, really bad, like totes retarded-seeming. Actually, not really. Because who knows, maybe it's just a character? You never know until you know, sugar.

Anyhow. Mr. Redacted's daughter is my friend, and she'd suddenly swooped into my life in September and started fixing things left and right with an efficiency I haven't experienced in years. It was the kind of logistical support I've needed since I was 14, and it was beyond what I previously fathomed as possible for one person to do for me out of the goodness of their heart and their recognition of the way the world is. Then Mr. Redacted, inspired by his daughter's kindness, offered me a job. However, following the totally logical progression of events detailed in my prior post, we've both been cut off, yeah, me and his daughter.

Me: "It's like the 1950's or something, the like, censorship."
Her: "It's more like the 1800's, because I have no light. Or heat."


I know I say things like "I can fly" or "I live in a crack den" flippantly, but I'm serious about the no electricity, no phone, no car insurance, frozen bank accounts, not allowed to talk to me or to anyone else in her family, etc. etc. I know what you're thinking: Auto-Win, wtf? I know!!! Seriously you guys I could not make this shit up. Anyhow, yeah, so also I had a lot of other things that were cut off from me, which really blew, but not as bad as it blows to have um, like, no phone or electricity.

Anyhow, we can't really do anything about it, when people are acting totally ridiculous. How do you begin to argue with things that defy logic? I know all about this, as I've had a lot of insane argument experience.

Also, we've got no money or power, and he's got lots, and that's how the world is, surprise. I've told you; I've stared mania in the eyes. I know that mania is either a vacuum or an elevator or a suffocating embrace or rubber and you are glue, or rubber and you are something that bounces away from rubber. We are just girls yelling at rubber.

10:11 P.M.: I know you're all asking yourself ... when did you first employ the term "hands down totes"? Well, that post has just been published. This is the context:

NY Mag said: The Farm on Adderley (1108 Cortelyou Rd. Ditmars Park, Brooklyn)
I say: Arby's. (National Chain)
Hands down totes Arby's. I can never even decide: homestyle or curly? They are both delicious, but in totally different ways. You know, like men and women. That being said, I usually chose curly fries. I think they are just more emotionally complex.

Sat 12: 54 A.M.: Guess what? I think this day has gone on long enough. I forgot to mention: this job was gonna be perfect. Like perfect hours, amazing pay, a lot of perks, like basically my whole life was gonna turn around, it wasn't just like, a cool job, it was like, miracle job.

Why do I keep extending days I wasn't really enjoying to begin with? Maybe that's the real mid-afternoon slump; realising you're trapped inside an unpleasant narrative and you're not sure it'll turn around before you can quit trying for 6-8 hours.

When I was little, I didn't understand what death was or why it happened because I didn't understand illness. I was new to the world, obvs, so I didn't realise that it was the physical that degraded into expiration, not the mental or spiritual. I remember when my Great-Grandmother died, I thought she died because she was so mean to everyone all the time, I thought once you got like that your time was up. I felt guilty for thinking that when I learned how it all worked for real, but I don't know if I ever stopped believing it, even though it's clearly not even remotely true. How weird though, that we were created this way -- for like ... [omg seriously I should be asleep, wtf am I even talking about? I'm like, totes creating my own religion. It's okay if no-one wants to join it, I have my stuffed dog, Ryan, and the Flying Lesbians, obvs.] ... our physical selves to be the ones we must maintain actively and concretely -- which affect only ourselves, is entirely reflexive really. Whereas actual purity of intent and being isn't necessary for survival, it's like, more important if you wear sunscreen then if you are nice to people. That's weird. My mosquito bites look like vampire bites. Maybe they are! That'd be neat, totes bitten.


*
Everything is free now,
That's what they say.
Everything I ever done,
Gotta give it away.
Someone hit the big score.
They figured it out,
That we're gonna do it anyway,
Even if doesn't pay.
*
11:06 A.M. Saturday: OMG. Durrrrrr. Ugh. I hate that split second in the morning where you could be anyone, anything, where any number of possibilities are possible and then the reality of your actual life washes over you all of a sudden, ugh. Also, my roommate Ryan is so sweet. I like people who are good people. Go Team Good.
*
2:51 P.M. Saturday: OK, Stef just helped me out with a major crisis involving ebay people needing refunds for products they clearly never received, because Mr. Redacted has no soul. I seriously almost just punched a wall, which I've never done before. Usually I'm clumsy enough to make these things happen on my own without doing them on purpose. E.g., I just banged my elbow/funnybone thing on the edge of the dresser for like, the 10th time in the last 24 hours and it fucking hurts like hell.

Also, I had an article for Curve Magazine due on November 1st, and I haven't finished it yet. What's wrong with me, I'm not sure. Also, I think I'm going to go to Reno for a few days soon to chill 'cause K-Lilly is a good friend. I'll win big on the slots and then buy the whole world a Coke.

I'm so blessed to have such amazing friends, really. Ryan just got me groceries and he's cleaning right now. Like how adorable is that? There are no words.
*
5:10 P.M. Saturday: Someone keeps calling me from a 402 area code. Where is that? Oh. Nebraska. Obviously. That's where most of my friends live. JK I don't know anyone in Nebraska actually. Is it even a real state? Are any of you from Nebraska? Is it fun there? Are there Jews and Gays?

I just found it, P.S., the part of my blog where I start being honest emotionally almost sorta, which'd be this post. I just got chills, like, reading it, and seeing like, all my feelings start to crawl out of my self-made turtle shell. This is unrelated to the firing incident, because I'm in trouble for implying that my totes real-life friend Kit Porter wanted to have sex with a vodka bottle, not for talking about my emotional realities. I wish my emotional realities involved more sex and vodka though.

Also, I feel dizzy like I am on a boat. I think I need to go for a walk.
*
7:40 P.M. Saturday: That was a nice walk. Now I am home. I just talked to my friend. You guys, seriously, I just want to say right now that I do not, nor have I ever, fucked Kit Porter, or anyone -- real or otherwise -- with a vodka bottle. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just wanna get that out there. Also, sidenote: writers write about television and movies. TV and movies often contain sex [not enough sex, as far as The L Word is concerned, but that's another story I've told many times on Auto-Straddle ... which, P.S., wouldn't even come up if you googled me, because it's not under my real name.] Also; sex is legal. Also, fine. You obvs can't have a writer working for you. But what about all the other things that were happening, Mr. Redacted, BEFORE you even OFFERED me DREAM JOB, even offering to forego the background check in case I had any skeletons in my closet. I don't, so it doesn't matter -- I've never been arrested or anything -- so you could have checked my background all you wanted. Also, you should still pay me for the two weeks that you said you'd pay me for and shouldn't have stopped the ebay transactions, asshole.

What does that have to do with your daughter's electricity? You are cutting her out of the family because she dared to hook me up with you and attach my scandalous personality to your workplace. Except ... except! ... she didn't. She didn't want me to work for you, you offered, it was your idea! Your idea! You offered!!! Also, I'm not sure what cutting off your daughter's everything has to do with Kit Porter's vagina.

9:21 P.M.: A Complete Explanation of Why This is Ilene Chaiken's Fault.
At this point, I would like to address the situation regarding Kit Porter, the vodka bottle, and my feelings about having sex with objects.

As we know, Ilene Chaiken cannot write her way out of a paper bag. Following Kit's discovery that Angus was cheating on her with Tickle-Me-Hazel, Kit pondered returning to her former alcoholic glory. There's a lot of ways that this could've been revealed. For example, someone could've offered Kit a drink and she could've pondered it. However, Ilene Chaiken likes to confront exposition head-on, directly to the forehead. Also, no-one ever had sex in Season Four, which bothered me, as I am clearly a nymphomaniac. Seriously, P.S., I am not. In my recap I was making fun of two things:
1. The retarded plot device of the vodka bottle.
2. The fact that no one ever has sex on this show, leading me to pits of desperation so deep that I actually imagined Kit fucking herself with a vodka bottle.

Here is the section from Auto-Straddle. ["If I have to hear about that goddamn fucking-with-the-bottle thing one more time ..." (her)] Disclaimer: Auto-Straddle recaps television shows, which are about fake people. I make jokes about these characters. Also, here is a Wikipedia article about Television Without Pity, they basically invented the recap.

This scene is in Episode 409, "Lacy Lilting Lyrics." Again. These people are NOT REAL.


And a Partridge in a Pear Tree!
Then Kit goes into her office. There are at least $1,700 worth of flowers in there. Seriously, you could like, sponsor 10,000 kids in Nepal for that amount. Talk about the depths of sorrow, Hazelfucker. Kit sits down to face the bottle. You know, the proverbial bottle. But a real one. She keeps it around for moments like this one, when we need a literal representation of her mental conflict because the writers for this show aren't exactly like, um, Sarte, or something.



Me: Wouldn't it be awesome if she was actually thinking like, 'I wonder what it would feel like to stick this bottle up my vagina.'
Haviland
: She's debating if she wants to drink or not.
Me:
I know, but it would be like, way cooler if we THINK she's considering taking a drink, but then there's a twist and what she's really considering is if she's got enough lubrication in her vaginal canal to handle that bottle and then she just hiked up her sundress and was like "Okay boys, let's roll!"
[Kim and Haviland look at me like I'm a maniac]

You might notice that in the intro to this section, I actually mention giving to starving children in Nepal. Like, totes. I am totes so immoral. Excuse me, there is a really hot vodka bottle sitting on my bed, waiting to get fucked all night long.

11.8.07

I'm going to link this part from tomorrow's blog -- it's an explanation. Most of it I really can't/shouldn't talk about for many reasons, so this is as much as I'll ever say here -- not sure if this'll be permanent or not.

Also, everything is gonna be fine -- not with Mr. Redacted, but in general ... Olive is just awesome, and things'll be fine. Totes totes fine.

HOW MR. REDACTED BECAME NOT JUST AN ASSHOLE BOSS, BUT A TOTES SOCIOPATHIC TWATWAFFLE-

8. His Idea To Begin With -- Law firms rarely wanna hire me 'cause I've got too many media connections. But he asked his daughter if I wanted a job, since she'd spoken so highly of me and honestly of my situation, and subsequently he totes swooped in and made it happen, said I could forego the background check if necessary and proposed a confidentiality agreement to solve the blog problem. Offered $35/hour, my hours [10-4, M-F], company car there and back, etc etc. I couldn't even tell people about it 'cause I felt guilty I'd snagged such a ridic awesome gig, didn't know how to deal with it. I was fantasizing already about paying off Visa and taking everyone and their mother out for dinner. I bought a pack of cigarettes, walked to Columbia, talked to Amahd for an hour, gave away my pack of cigarettes, and 24 hours later I couldn't even reach Olive, and I was panicking, emailing people saying I was concerned because they were normally not out of touch like this. I had reason to panic, and I hate that. I hated having my trust dashed.
7. Two Weeks Salary -- Was promised, not paid.
6. No Sweat -- If it's allegedly so simple for me to cancel ebay transactions, isn't it equally simple for him to follow through with them? And even if not, for Christ's sake, are we 12? Also, um, hello pregnant 20-year-old upstate waiting for a charitable donation I'd arranged? Like, why punish her for what I did with Papi last night? I mean, really Papi?
5. I Cannot Comprehend How You Can Be So Heartless, So Rash, So Cruel, So Sociopathic, Yet So Confident, So 'Successful.' I know in your mind, this's all justified. Just how you somehow justified what you did instead of parent. I can't believe I'm actually yelling at my friend's Dad. It's like, you don't do that really -- parents are tender ground, especially as I haven't known her for that long. But his actions were so severe that this doesn't really feel as wrong as I typically would feel when dealing with someone's parents. Olive will be the opposite of you, and dude, I know people who know people, and I'm serious about the kingdom of heaven w/r/t you not being invited.
4. A reader called you "Captain Douchetard McHatesHisFamily," I know that I need to stop doing lines off Shane's barely-there ass, but that's clearly my problem, not Olive's, cutting her off is retarded.
3. As far as sexual preversion goes, I'd say marrying someone 40 years younger than you ..
2. Cutting off Olive from her family: insane.
1. My Blog Has No Bearing on My Work Performance. I'm not expecting you to realise that, because in a time of universal deceit — telling the truth is a revolutionary act.