I Can VLOG Right Now, There's So Much Drama!

[A'ight, two of THE VLOGS are on here now and comments are back on, apparently linking out is v.confusing, which is fine, I understand, I don't know how my phone works.] I took this theater class at Sarah Lawrence where we learned to be Actors by expressing all our Feelings and crying in front of strangers. There were no actual plays involved, obvs, how tedious. It was like group therapy or a revival meeting but for college credit and w/o a gospel choir. Sooo, on the last day we did, surprise, an emotive exercise--we stood in the middle of our ring o' classmates, screamed an affirmation of "how we prevail," and then jumped up and down yelling our affirmation as a group. It was very beautiful, my heart grew three sizes that day. Mine was "I prevail because I learn something new every day." The girl I had a secret crush on said "I prevail because I know that I'm beautiful." I was like, yeah you are. It was also my last day at Sarah Lawrence, and I shouldn't've been jumping 'cause I was injured, but hell, you learn something new every day. Anyhow, I'd emailed Delp that same week (my best writing teacher ever), to update him about dropping out of college etc., and he wrote me this in return:

Marie, dear Marie ...

I thought you were dead ... take some time off ... heal the leg and heal the mind ... go someplace sunny where you can live on a quarter a day ... in the words of Joseph Heller: "what does a sane man do in an insane world?" ... I'm just about ready to hang it up myself ... we teach math and physics and chemistry to everyone and we've ended up with a country like we have? Jesus ... it's enough to make me sick ... so be true to your heart's passions ... become, of all things, a writer .... the world needs the truth now more than it ever has ...
(12. 13. 1999)

Remember yesterday when I wrote that blog? I do! Your comments are so beautiful it hurts to look at them. JK, it doesn't hurt, it's awesome, I can't talk about it without sounding Emo. No, it does hurt, but in a beautiful way. Thank you.

I really was going to delete it about an hour later, but that gets me to the point that brings the first paragraph back around: What did I learn yesterday? If you want to stop yourself from deleting an embarrassing blog, a good idea is to have friends over, kill 1.5 bottles of wine with Carly (this is a pattern, see, I'm predictable), make 10 hours of vlogs and not check your email. Haviland will check your blog before you do, and she'll tell you "Riese, you can't erase it," and you'll say "ok!" 'cause you'll be drunk and making a vlog.

Wanna see it? The trailer I edited (Autostraddle Vlog #1), is below, but if you wanna watch all three, you've gotta go here, to my homosexy teevee recap blog Autostraddle, to watch them. Seriously, it's really good/brill/hilarious and it's worth the extension of your index finger and the external out-click, besides, everyone should try to keep their fingers nimble.



Here's a Blooper Reel that Carly edited with her skills. What's it for? Hmmm ... go here! It's all about The L Word inside jokes, thus auto-straddle's exclusive on it.



[You can comment at AutoStraddle, too much crossblog action makes the baby go blind]

This Girl Called Automatic Weirdo

Hi! I've got some things I wanna say and so I'm gonna write them down here in this google doc, then cut and paste them into a blog and then publish it. Carly's coming over in about 30 minutes and then Haviland 'cause we're gonna make some vlogs that're gonna be awesome and make you LOL your asses off, so I've got about 20 minutes to figure out what I need to say and say it, and I'll edit it later because it's gonna be totes muddled. First off; I'm not depressed right now, I'm not in a Bell Jar or Emily Dickinson mood, nor am I about to renounce all things in the world, delete my blog or myspace, go out and drink into an oblivion, fuck 'til I forget who I am, change all my goals in life, move to Michigan or run away to my emo cave, suddenly fix relationships I've let falter or neglect new and thriving ones. In fact, I'm not gonna do anything besides exactly what I've been doing and planned to do, like tonight we're making some vlogs, I've got some phone calls and emails to return, I'm behind on Google Reader like WHOA, I still haven't edited last week's blog or this one, I need to clean my room I think, and tonight Tila Tequila's gonna meet Dani's parents which is a very exciting moment for everyone in the whole wide world, obvs. I think I owe a lot of blog comments, emails, etc.

Okay so I'm just writing, seriously not deleting anything unless it's a typo, this is a totes stream of consciousness nonsense. [UPDATE: I've edited it as little as possible just so it makes sense, but remains almost exactly what I originally wrote. Sorry, I used "its" wrong and it was ruining my life.] I think I'm going to finish the secrets blog this week, or maybe not, but I probably will. It might not make sense and you don't have to comment, maybe it'll be weird?

My brain's a little confused these days, it's trying to wrap itself around paradox and that's hard to do when I've got a lot of lock-boxes and storage space up there that's already maxed out and when I've got so much I'm excited about and for and when I feel so much of ME and so much of my friends have changed over the past few months in a way that's really quite beautiful. I think we've become more humble and I hope I've inspired a few friends to live more for the moment and wait for the next joke and to dance, I like dancing even though I'm bad at it. I like a lot of things that are actually a lot like dancing.

About a month ago, one of my best friend's infant brother died suddenly from an aneurysm, he'd only been alive for about six weeks. It just didn't make any sense whatsoever. I remember when I told Lozo about this baby's death and he said nothing surprises me anymore or something to that effect. I was like, but wait wait isn't that so fucked up? A baby? Like, wtf world? And then all that other shit happened with the job and me getting fired and all this terrible out-of-the-blue stuff w/r/t Olive and he was like seriously, nothing surprises me anymore. I remember when I first read about this on his blog, I thought, OMG, seriously? REALLY PAPI? Like, no. You know? just NO. And when he told me that he wasn't surprised by this shit that was knocking my world off its feet I said no, if we accept such tragedies and also if we accept such unfair and ridiculous behavior out of the blue and when we accept the failure of the medical system to take care of the mentally ill properly and when we accept death before the word "surprise" turned tragic on our tongues then how do we prevent these tragedies and he said, well, we can't. I said how do we keep on? But I already know the answer to that question, obviously. I know how we keep on, wanna know how? WE JUST DO.

In the ensuing weeks following that whole week of hell in which I almost broke my computer from crying onto my keyboard, I swear I read about six bloggers write about the death of a loved one from illness or something unexpected. Perhaps you are one of them. I seriously feel like every day my Google Reader announced one obituary at least, and every time I was like "Seriously, G-d, wtf, stop it! Stop it now!"

Over the weekend I was frolicking with two people I love very much and having a good time and enjoying things and being laid-back. As I did this someone else I love very much almost died but didn't. I don't want to say anything about it but that, and I won't, and please don't ask, or guess who it was, or anything, and I'm not asking for pity or sympathy or even trying to incite a reaction of any kind or anything. I just need to say this to get on. I'm just saying this : it happened and I cannot loose this person, I absolutely refuse to.

So, it was Monday and Cait and Haviland and I were at an art exhibit called WHACK! at this D.C museum in a room dedicated to feminist porn from the 70's and there were all these naturally hairy and un-airbushed women fucking with strap ons and whipping each other and making out with 10 people at once and got this text and I thought right away that I knew who it was texting and I picked it up ready to read something totally adorable that would make me smile and other things but instead it was not that or from who I'd for some reason assumed it'd be from, instead it was news that someone I love very much had almost died and so I sort of just fell on the ground all of a sudden because my heart fell out of my body and Cait was like "What's going on?" and for a long time I could not speak, and then I did.

Then we were in the gift shop later and Natalie called excited about this awesome vaycay we're taking next year and I got so happy talking to her because I love Natalie and am excited for vaycay and I don't feel bad about that either, or weird about it, even, or weird about anything.

Okay so moving on; everything is fine w/r/t this person I love and will be fine. [By that I mean she is alive, fortunately.] That's all I'm gonna say on that.

On Sunday night, a beautiful girl I've never met, but who was one of the people who sent me a secret I'd written about on my secrets blog and one of the people who thanked me afterwards, was hit by a car when she was driving home on her motorcycle. I'll call her Kelly, because that's what I called her in her secret. Kelly read my blog in the first place because she'd been told about it by someone who loved her very much, one of my Top People/Brightest Ring Of Angels, who I'll call "B," was an inspiration to C and helped her to change in ways that were visible, tangible, gorgeous. When B first met Kelly, B said "she's totally out of my league, stunning, kind ..." On Monday, Kelly, after bleeding from her brain for hours and hours and hours, died. She was 26. What's worse, if anything could be worse [not worse, but also terrible and tragic], is that B's done this before. She's already lost someone super-duper-close to her-- NECESSARY (what a word! how nothing truly can be, after all, except life itself!) -- to her from a car accident before. I literally did not think that things like this were possible. I mean, I know from tragedy, obvs, but in some weird way I felt protected by my father's death, like terrible things might still happen to me [and have, from time to time, relatively] but I wouldn't have the exact same thing happen to me again any time soon, no more unexpected or unbearable deaths in a top spot.

When I read about what happened to Lozo in April, I couldn't fathom it. When I relay the entire story of my summer to friends, or the story what happened in October with Olive, I witness shock and awe and more often than I'd like -- disbelief, actual disbelief, these things do not happen in the world they live in either, or so they thought. Like how we all thought for a moment on 9-11 that it was a movie.

So this weekend, I was driving back. I'd had a fun weekend with girls I love and couldn't live without (don't knock on anything, certainly not some dead tree, because there's really no such thing as supersition, it's just an abstraction, all we have really is faith and hope and love, srsly), I realised I'm maxed out on expectation. Stephen Dunn, in one of my favorite poems of all time, "Grudges," wrote this: "Easy for almost anything to occur/Even if we've scraped the sky, we can be rubble./For years those men felt one way, acted another." Obvs it's about 9/11, and the last verse contains, among other words, these lines: "Before you know it something's over/Suddenly someone's missing at the table./It's easy (I know it) for anything to occur -- "

When I read that poem, I thought of my father's heart suddenly attacking and dying, I thought of 9-11 which didn't effect me personally [I am lucky for that], but effected I think everyone's ideas of the Possible and Impossible, at least those of us protected in America and relatively privileged in our lives so far, just a reminder of the implicit mortality of life. Now, when I read that poem it seems universally applicable, and I guess that's sad as hell, but well, life is sad sometimes, and what can we do? Which I guess is what Lozo said when he wrote that top ten for me , and I can't believe I'm quoting wisdom from Lozo, but oh well.

I don't intend to make any dramatic decisions or react as I've reacted in the past to these crises of faith -- in many ways my life's been one long reaction to November 14th, 1995. I'm not threatening benders or a loss of control or inhibition or becoming totally healthy or Zen or really changing any of my present habits. I'm not less excited or energised or happy about any of the truly fantastic things that are happening right now and nothing has or will change how I feel about everything that's going on and all the people I've extended purely excited and optimistic energy towards while simultaneously moderating tragedy on the other line. I'm not numb or over-feeling. I'm not impatient with people's little problems and I'm not any different than I've ever been about how I feel everyone's entitled to their own sadness, their own tragedies, I'm not less worried about the aesthetics of my thighs or my expectations for the fucking L Word premiere or anything.

I guess I'm just slightly more grateful to be alive and I guess I wanna say also, and I say this purely, and not like, cheesy or trying to make anyone react, that ... well, okay, recently Haviland and I were talking about our career goals and I realised suddenly that most of mine are no longer so urgent as they once were. There's a lot of things I want to do still obvs, and sooooo many projects I'm really extra excited about like the teevee show and the BOYSHORTS and my new website and my book and our vlogs and etc. But all I ever wanted to do from writing was help people or help people through times that hit them hard, and I feel so grateful to have done that for so many of you. If you've ever emailed me or commented to tell me how you feel or if I told your secret and you said it changed you, that is the most fucking beautiful thing ever. If I made you LOL or like The L Word more or feel okay about who you are even for half a second, that's worth more than a New York Magazine article or a Conde Nast job or a million dollars or maybe two chicks at once too. After all, the jokes are all we have, guys. Seriously, I think LIFE IS NOT BULLSHITTING WITH US SO WE SHOULD STOP BULLSHITTING WITH EACH OTHER. Totally just used all caps, next thing I'm going to be emailing you about enlarging your penis or pissed at you about something retarded or I'll be Carly texting me to say I GOT AN IPHONEIPHONEIPHONEIPHONE which my phone has never forgotten because every time I type "I," the t9w is like, "oh do you want to say IPHONEIPHONEIPHONE" and I'm like, no, but I'm glad somebody did. I'm excited about the Britney Spears album and about mashed potatoes for Christmas and about going shopping to get gifts for people and about 2008 and about dancing and about hopefully becoming a better person too, about The Planet Podcast and about writing and publishing more and sleeping and being sad sometimes and laughing and making out and going to strip clubs with Lozo. There's a lot of things I want, obvs, as we must want as we are wanting monkeys. Also, I swear, I'm not on crack. I believe in G-d, the children, and that I can fly. Clearly.

Anyhow, what was I saying? Oh yeah. I'm grateful to what I've got now that have made these recent blows easier to weather, and I'm happy to have so many friends who I've met through my blog and know what they're getting into therefore, friends who haven't gotten annoyed at me when I pull crazy shit like deleting my blog or being totally sentimental and ridiculous or exploiting cliche or myself or telling things about other people maybe I shouldn't say, or relishing in attention I might not deserve, or attention that's not healthy for whoever's providing it.

OK so Carly is gonna be here soon. I just wanted to type this stuff out, and it makes me feel important to have a place to put it, because I am a fundamentally ridiculous person. This year has sucked for so many of you, and for me too sometimes, but wow I sure have learned a lot.

You guys should totes cry if you need to and laugh too. Life is really funny, seriously, have you ever seen it? It's fucking ridiculous and hilarious and random as hell. It's fucking tragic. So you know, like hang in there. I'm not gonna say it'll get better but it'll be an experience for sure.

Today I sat down to write a journal entry in my paper journal and all I ended up writing was two pages that started like this: "Tara, I forgive you," and kept going like that, you know, like, also forgave kids who made fun of me in middle school and my retarded ex-boyfriends and the guy who didn't care that I said "no" and just about everyone except Ilene Chaiken and George W. Bush and then I forgave Tara again and again, like Bart Simpson writing on the chalkboard every week during the opening of "The Simpsons."

I know there are a lot of of people I've wronged too and I'm sorry, and I'll probably fuck up again 100 times while I'm still alive, and I'll be sorry when I do.

I'll probs emo out on y'all 100 more times too and get wrapped up in self-pity or self-centered excitement and I'm not really sorry for that, actually. You shouldn't be either when you do those things. I've never judged anyone for anything because we've all got our dark unbearable secrets, things I've done that maybe you wouldn't like me anymore if you knew about, habits I need to break, commitments I've failed on and stuff. But there's a lot of things I'm totally doing good on right now.

Also, I am going to find this entire post unbearably embarrassing and completely retarded and/or inappropriate in about 10 hours.

Also, clearly I am disassociating right now, but oh well, it's a great strategy. Also, I love Six Feet Under, it's the best show ever, you should all watch it.

Rain

Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.

Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.

Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgivable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.

(Raymond Carver)

Ok! Carly's here, ttyl.

That's all. No point. I told you I was a total weirdo. Later, gators

Sunday Top Ten: Anyone Living Anywhere Else Must Somehow, In a Sense, Be Kidding

I'm in Washington, D.C., home of the world-famous United States government, with Haviland and Cait. The hotel just hooked us up with a free bottle of wine to ease the pain of our recent move from the third floor to the fourth floor on account of the heat being broken in our previous room [Haviland's resting body temperature is -56 degrees, and it's wintertime]. I said I was gonna drink it 'cause it's hard to turn down free alcohol, but then I tried to, and turns out that Merlot tastes like ass. But, I keep drinking it and I'll tell you something, it gets better and better. So ... D.C. -- on Saturday night, we had dinner at this restaurant called Manhattan's, and it closes before we're done drinking. I ask an employee for a bar rec. He asks "What kind of scene?" and I say, "No douchetards or assholes." And he says, "There's [BLABLA] bar or [BLABLA] bar but you should go to [TURNED OUT TO BE LAME] bar, I say that because you're wearing black nail polish." I've got no clue what he means, so I ask: "Black nail polish? What does that mean?" and he says something lame and clearly not memorable about my alternative lifestyle and I'm like "Oh, is it really dark? Do they play goth heavy metal music?"

[Disclaimer: This thing needs to be proofread like WHOA, will do in the morning/afternoon.]

Unfortunately for me and my dark dark soul: no, it was packed tight with douchetards, the music was way more Hootie than Ozzie. We went somewhere else, it was awesome, life is awesome, I could never live in this city, there's a lot of pearls and Republicans. I've been here many times, and on recent trips I just feel like I'm in enemy territory. Apparently, according to Hav and Cait, it's unwise for me to keep yelling "Praise Allah!" in public. Whatevs, Shalom, Republicassholes.

I can't imagine a job in D.C anyone'd hire me to do [cash register at the HRC shop? They've got cute Marc Jacobs and Heatherette tees, seriously, buy one!], but regardless: absolutely could not live here right now. I'd considered Georgetown once, but when I visited, my friend advised against it. She said all the guys were ugly and wanted to be politicians or news anchors, and all the girls just wanted to marry them. She said it was grey all the time.

So Cait, Haviland and I started talking about where else in America I could never live. Then I had to write a Top Ten, so here we are.

SUNDAY TOP TEN:
MAJOR AMERICAN CITIES I'VE BEEN TO THAT I COULD TOTALLY NEVER LIVE IN FOR THE PURPOSES OF LIVING MY ACTUAL LIFE
FOR A PERIOD OF AT LEAST ONE YEAR

First of all, if you live in any of these cities, I'm sure you're very nice and your city is secretly awesome, because you're reading this, and people who read this are the best kind of people. In fact, many of you do live in these cities. I know this 'cause I've got a sitemeter, though it thinks I live in Virginia, so who knows, maybe by "Cincinnati" they mean "Bangladesh."

Second of all, I'd live just about anywhere if I was building houses or helping people, even in D.C. I'd live in D.C to teach kids to read or make birdhouses. OK, mostly I'm talking about New Orleans -- obvs I'd live there if I was building houses or feeding people or performing juggling for people w/o houses, but I couldn't live my normal life there.

Cait suggested a major city in Alaska for a spot on this no-go list, because it's always dark, but I love the dark. As I've mentioned, I'm a vampire and I find dark days verify my negative attitude. Also, everyone's cuter in the dark, dark come soon. I can't stand the rain. This Merlot is supposed to taste like ripe plum, maybe they mean "ripe bum." I don't like intense heat or locales where people are always wearing bikinis. I hate New York, it's unbearable, but I love it too, it's beautiful, so what can you do?

10. Atlanta

Firstly, it was really hot. Oddly enough, I've dated or bffriended many Georgia citizens and thus been there many times, which's weird, since I'm super not-Southern -- I'm not particularly polite, I'm not into facades, racism, the cotton gin, slavery, heat, willow trees, or massively confusing endless highway systems. I just felt like we spent every day stuck in traffic with a bunch of sweaty people in business suits. It was really hot.

*
9. Orlando

Firstly, it's so hot there, and there are fireants. If Carly and her hip friends like Cesar hadn't lived in Orlando as grown-ups with free will [as in, they weren't born there or forced to move there as slaves or prisoners of war or managers of Darden Restaurants], my overall impression of Orlando would be 100% negative instead of 99% negative [the 1% = obviously cool people do choose to reside there for college and consequently kinda enjoy themselves]. So, that withstanding, it's about a thousand degrees, filled with tourists and amusement parks and is in Florida, responsible for the impending apocalypse via the Bush Administration. It's just got no discernible personality besides headquartering a million bizarre corporate commercial entities, like my former employer Darden Restaurants and Universal Studios. Strip mall, strip mall, $9.99 All-You-Can-Eat Crab Legs, Mickey Mouse tickets.

Also, I love Disneyworld, seriously, I love visiting Florida and surfing on the sandy beaches. Just wouldn't want to live there.

*
8. Oklahoma City

Firstly, it's so hot there. Strip malls, real malls, cars, houses like other houses, houses not unlike other houses. No cowboys. Tornadoes. Where are the gays? I feel like OC is one big chain restaurant that serves baby back ribs and the waitresses have orange tans and serious push-up bras. The best part was Frontier City. Here's the thing: I can live somewhere totally ridiculous for about a year. Baltimore? Nashville? Miami? Sure, I'm totally in, hilarious. That's sort of my policy for life: you must be good, or you must be so bad that you are hilarious. Unfortunately, the ratio of cowboy-themed amusement parks to insane churches in OC doesn't enable it to cross that line from "bad" into hilarious, sorz.

*
7. Detroit

I just wrote this whole graf about Detroit and then looked it up on Wikipedia to verify my facts and learned that apparently people do live in Detroit and it's on the up-and-up, which's awesome because in addition to losing sleep thinking about the state of the publishing industry and what'll happen if musicians run out of melodies, I spend a lot of time worrying about Detroit. I just can't believe how empty so much of it is, and how badly the automotive industry's outsourcing has affected what was apparently a once extremely prosperous city. Anyhow, before I learned that somehow I've managed to miss every populated area of Detroit proper on my 10,000 trips there (Also: I'm not counting suburban Detroit, which is super-duper populated, obvs, my Moms live there, clearly, and also Somerset Mall, also a lot of annoying Jewish girls, I can say that, I'm Jewish. Also: if you think you've been there you probs haven't, the suburbs are where the Pistons play, and the aiport.) I'd written the following: it'd be hard to live here 'cause there's not much housing anymore, it's like ghost-city, all depressing dirty streets and blown-out buildings, remnants of the '67 race riots and the GM factory shut-downs. Honestly to geek out for a minute; I'm utterly completely OBSESSED WITH DETROIT. I'm intrigued by its downfall, its rapid ruin, the fact that white flight's enabled suburbs to thrive while the urban fabric crumbles and crumbles and then; crumbles. One of many interesting things about Detroit is [still here? still listening?] is Woodward Ave, where I've been many-a-time for concerts or shows at the Fox, it's nice and busy, about five solid blocks of bustling commerce. But literally one block further east or west and you are in a completely dark scary ghost town where most of the buildings are literally abandoned, just giant empty buildings.

This website's got a really through visual archive of Detroit's ruin, I find it endlessly interesting.

There's a pretty hot music scene in Detroit (seriously, like punk, techno, indie rock stuff), and one sumer night we came in for a Saturday Looks Good to Me show at this hot bowling alley venue, then went to Mexicantown for dinner and on the way home it was raining so bad the streets were flooding, but we sped through in Jake's bright red mini-van and the puddles splashed up against our windows like a car wash. It was like driving through Haunted House/Splash Mountain.

But seriously, there's not a lot of places to live there anymore, so I'd either be living on the streets drinking Mad Dog from a paper bag or with Eminem in his trailer. That's fine, trailers are hard-core and portable, probs bigger than most NYC apartments, but Eminem has serious issues.

*
6. Salt Lake City

Because of the Mormons. You know like Julie on The Real World. They don't like lesbians/gays or alcohol, my two favorite things. Once I went to Mormon church with my ex-boyfriend to see his friend speak about his trip to the mission, but it wasn't in Salt Lake it was in Vegas, but whatevs, so, they let all the kids run around in the back and scream during the service. Seriously, it's hard enough to be holy without babies screaming and hurling plastic toys at the wall, I've got no clue why premairtial sex is a sin but being annoying yelling children is totally encouraged. My agent's family is Mormon and we had dinner with her sister and I got drunk (surprise) and asked them a lot of questions about if it was hard to not have sex and they were like "Nope, my relationship with G-d is really important," and I was like wow. Seriously, that's impressive. Good job.

*
5. Houston and/or Dallas

Firstly, super hot there. I'm breaking my "no cities I've never been to" rule, 'cause I'm confident I'd hate both these places without stopping by to check. It's hot, I think everyone likes football and eats a lot of meat on the bones like ribs and steak, and G.W. was once the governor. I'd like Austin, but the rest of this state I'm skeptical of. If you live there though, you're awesome, there's an exception to every rule. Um, nice boots. Love cowboy boots. On the floor bedow bowwwww.

*
4. Cincinnati

Seriously, what's in Cincinnati? Besides some of my family members and The Reds? I don't know. I don't even feel like looking it up, I get bored just thinking about it. Oh! The Abercrombie & Fitch headquarters is there, I think, right? Totes.

*
3. Las Vegas

Firstly, it's really hot. What's brill is once upon a time I considered living here 'cause my ex-boyfriend hoped to move there when we were grown-ups [in his weird fantasy world where I could spend one additional minute of my life with him w/o clawing his eyes out] because there's no property tax in Vegas. That's really why. I don't know why I thought I could do that. I guess there were a lot of things I thought I could do then that really don't make any sense to me now, like be his girlfriend. How could you possibly live in a city that exists for tourists who come to Vegas specifically to do things they wouldn't do at home? I don't even gamble or know how, what a waste of money, I'd rather go to a strip club with Lozo and let him waste his money. 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.' What if your LIFE happens in Vegas? Is it all giggles and buffets? Because that's a lot of buffets.

*
2. New Orleans

Firstly, so hot. My brother lives here, and la-la-loves it. We're very different. E.g., he's an engineer and works to help get this city back on it's feet, I'm an aspirant and I work to tell retarded jokes at the expense of myself and others. I went to his graduation and lost my mind, though I felt exuberant when Ellen & Bill Clinton spoke at graduation and I enjoyed seeing my brother & his laid-back friends. The Ninth Ward made me despondent. Though my reputation may suggest otherwise, there's nothing about "The Big Easy" that appeals to me. [Ha! Ha! Seemed funny when I wrote it last night.] Everyone in NOLA's so chill, which gives me anxiety, I've got this New Yorkish affection for anxiety, depression, misery and multi-tasking. Also, they had this Hurricane, our retarded government completely fucked up, and a naturally chill attitude combined with missing street signs, no housing, a reduced labor force and people who've been seriously neglected with no-place to go equals a really long line at Rite-Aid. Also, really, girls show their tits for BEADS? Beads? Are they magic beads? There are so many things about the world I don't understand.

Anyhow, see disclaimer above, I'd live in NOLA if it was in a helping-people situation, just not to like, live normal life.

*
1. Washington, D.C.

Hiya. Seriously, this wine gets better and better. Maybe I coulda lived here when my fave prez Bill Clinton was in office, but it feels funny now. I don't know. It's corrupt here, isn't it? They got a rough treatment in my "Fucking Around" story, to be featured in the "Dirty Girls" anthology. Most people I've passed on the street look like someone I wouldn't mind punching in the face, though I love the bookstores especially the incredible gay bookstores. Pretty streets. I'm not a salesman or a politician, I'm too into honesty, obvs, to a fault ... though I hope to be a full-time activist one day, you know, to change things. Education, mostly. I'm ready for a new president. I miss Bill Clinton. What a multi-tasker, that one.

In any event, it's been a fabulous weekend, we walked a million miles today. The city's essentially deserted on account of the holiday, it wasn't that cold, and I like just being away, from my little emo cave, and everything. Love this hotel. We'd all like to live here and be little Eloises, just bathe and wear white bathrobes and drink coffee and eat fruits and things. So good to chill w/Cait and Haviland, who're both tucked neatly into bed and sleeping while I type away like a lunatic.

It's been such a strange fucking year. It's funny; my animosity towards D.C isn't so violent as it was a few months ago, it's like, everything is a mess, what do we do? Pick up pieces, move on. Look forward. I've got hope there'll be space in the clear on the other side for a reconciliation of some kind for this effin country and I'm praying that that isn't all there'll be room for ... we do small things, here and there, press on, wait for the next joke and laugh at it, we crescendo, we dance. We wait for the next joke, even when it's on us. I feel like laughter's pretty pure. There's lots of pure pretty lovely awesome things actually, and friends. I look at New York and I wonder how she does it.

This Is the Way Is the Way That We Vlog But For Reals

Firstly, this vlog is very important because we filmed some last night AND some this morning, which means it's like having a sleepover w/Riese and Haviland, just sans cuddling and sweet sweet somethings. Howevs, all this filming means I had to trek through about five gazillion hours of lesbian turkish oil wrestling and L Word scene reenactments to obtain 4-5 minutes of quality comedy gold, but it was worth it, because gold, like diamonds and SARS, is forever. We did some great scenes from Showtime's Hit Series "The L Word," coming back to a teevee near you on January 6th 2008, played "Catchphrase," AND we discussed important topics such as my recent computer problem, my impressive wake-up time on Thanksgiving, and how to win a million dollars or two chicks at once. Also, I was sober for the entire thing again, and therefore not nearly as charming, clumsy or funny as I probably am if you've ever met me in a public place like a bar, club, concert or street corner.

Secondly; I read this article in The Atlantic about how multi-tasking is gonna make our brains explode and I resolved to stop multitasking forever. Then I went to the apple store and they said they were gonna take away my baby for 3-5 days! I'm on Haviland's computer now, she's a good friend, clearly. Anyhoo, although apparently the look on my face ("are you okay?" she said) indicated I was about to drop dead right there in the apple store, I actually felt quite zen: I thought calmly to myself -- "It'll be easier to avoid multi-tasking without a computer." Howevs: I'm currently writing this, compressing the vlog, and changing for the gym, but I'm pretty sure I'll start this resolution next week, if not tomorrow. Also guess what? It's ready now, I'm gonna pick it up tonight circa midnight, see you on i-chat later, howevs I'll be devoting my energies to only one convo at a time so first come first served.

My resolution: one physical and one audio-visual task at a time. For starters, I'll stop listening to my ipod while walking, and instead pay attention to the world around me. Guess what's going on in the world around me? On Fifth Ave (apple store territory), there's dozens of Nordic looking girls shopping in adorable winterwears (e.g., hoodies and furry boots): they travel in packs (sisters? friends? lesbian makeout bandits?), I'd enjoy curling up by a fireside with 1-5 of these girls maybe. Also, there's lots of Jewish and Indian girls who're super-angry at their short boyfriends, they like fighting loudly on the street outside of expensive buildings. Also, everyone in Planet Harlem is insane and yells at me and I hate them, except the guy who said my haircut was "real cute," he's an automatic winner, and the guy in the black rainboots and the blue tracksuit who directs imaginary traffic every day on Lennox. It's a lot less stressful to exist when you're not constantly straining and digging to ensure the maximisation of your brain's powers by reading, ipod listening and cellphone checking though, I'd recommend this to everyone. Stop multi-tasking! You'll explode!

Anyhow then I went home and called Haviland for no reason, she was confused like "Why are you calling me?" and I was like "I have no computer." We talked, I focused 100% on our phone conversation, then 100% on putting together my outfit, then 100% on going to this lesbo party "Eden" with Haviland, A;ex and her friend Ryan. Alllllll night long, Focus Factor. Seriously, I was like, totally into all my activities.

Soooo ... speaking of paying attention, are you still paying attention? I would be. After all, I'm done multi-tasking. I totes forgot about that on Thanskgiving, I got very distracted by all the foods and conversations, though I don't like turkey. We had people over, there was eating, Snoopy didn't come, which's fine. Ready for the vlog? Me too. There is be another version of this vlog on AutoStraddle sometime soon, focusing on the many minutes of L Word related material rather than self-centered musings.

Why Don't We Get Drunk And Go to a Tegan & Sara Concert?

Monday night, Tegan & Sara of the band "Tegan and Sara" played at Webster Hall. Have you heard of them? I talk about them almost every day. They are two cute lesbian girl twins in skinny jeans and Converse shoes with killer musical talent, what more could you ask for in a wife makeout buddy band? Seriously though, their music has gotten me through the past five months of my smokin' hot life, including most notably July and August, which could've been a living hell and often was, but thanks to Haviland, Carly, Spashley, alcohol, and Tegan & Sara, totally weren't.

Okay, show recap starts now. Writing this at NOON: Before the show we had a meeting of Team Awesome at Haviland's house. Team Awesome, FYI, is Carly, Riese and Haviland. It's a little intense to have meetings of Team Awesome because Carly and I talk a lot, and we'd already started drinking. We killed a bottle of wine between the two of us fast. [And that was before the bottle of wine we drank DIRECTLY from the bottle in Haviland's hallway about an hour later, which is how we roll.] Sometimes being around us is like having front row seats to a kickass comedy show and sometimes it's like being around two people who talk too much. Either way, we both have cute haircuts. We discussed all kinds of new fun things that'll be coming this upcoming winter from us for You! at AutoWin and AutoStraddle, like more Vlogs and more posts and more for me, yeah-ah-yeah-ah, and boy briefs. There's so many things, tell all your friends! One of these things is figuring out how to make the content exciting for new readers without repeating myself to the point where it's annoying to long-time readers. That's sort of a problem in my overall life.

Oh also, I've noticed that whenever someone namedrops Autostraddle on Television Without Pity or some such thing (after-ellen, planet boards, qaf livejournal group etc), like someone I don't even know did this weekend, my traffic goes way up. So if you guys ever read message boards or are in various LJ communities discussing relevant topics like lesbian teevee shows or cute bands, feel free to namedrop me every day. Not this post though, that'd be a dead giveaway.

So! THE TEGAN AND SARA CONCERT (TIME-STAMPS ARE WRITING TIMES, NOT TIMES THAT THE EVENTS I AM WRITING ABOUT ACTUALLY HAPPENED)

9:31 P.M.: Now I'm really writing about the concert. OMG there's a Tegan and Sara song that talks about Top Tens! It's like it's in the stars. I just posted this blog where I asked y'all to send me songs and you totally all did. I love you. Well, most of you. Some of you i don't know very well and I wouldn't want to rush things.

10:04 P.M.: Okay so we went to this concert. First we had to go to McDonald's so Hav could get fro-yo. She was like, emergency you guys. I got some too, and Carly had fries, and Cait drove, and Stef was there too and then I hung up on Vicky because I couldn't figure out where we were meeting her and I have a very low threshhold for phone conversations. So then we got to Webster Hall and we were in the V.I.P area because we know people who know people, a.k.a. Stef. We had three V.I.P passes but we just swapped 'em out. Stef's strategy.

11:55 P.M.: I just had a good talk with Zoey about Thanksgiving and Phenomenol. Then I had a really good idea, which was to take half an ambien because I felt like drinking an entire Coca Cola at 11:30 was making me a little wound-up. My whole artificial stimulation/sleepification strategy is a little bit rough, I think it needs some work. I just took 1/4th an Adderall to counteract the drowsiness I was feeling from half that Ambien. Sooner or later, I'll reach baseline. And then my brain will go blank suddenly, like a dark room. Maybe I should have a drink. No, that is the last thing I need.

12:10 A.M.: Okay, so these are the important parts about the concert- CONCERT RECAP FOR REAL STARTS HERE

-Attendants:
-My BFF Haviland Stillwell, Rising Star and Co-Aspirant and Co-Vlogstar
-My Co-Captain Carly Usdin, co-creator of the world's next great gay sitcom -- I mean -- FIRST great gay sitcom -- "Living it Out"
-My Life-Star Cait, responsible for all kinds of goodness including but not limited to a vehicle that took us to and from the concert (which also served as our escape vehicle last weekend when the three of us were roped into this bizarre Pyramid-Scheme Potluck pitch in my very own living room lead by a fat guy in a ponytail and we had to run away, run very far away and fast.)
-Cruise Director Stef, who gets us into things like concerts and along with semicolon is responsible for the design of Havilandstillwell.com and the upcoming redesign of Marielynbernard.com.
-Also friends including Vicky and her gay Yose, and Carly's gays Cesar and Matt

VERY IMPORTANT PERSONS: As I said, we were in the VIP area. Guess who else was there? Kim Stolz. We all admired her beauty in a way that was totally sophisticated and mature. Carly especially was a mature normal person, since she works with Kim at MTV-U so it ain't no thang, it was just like, hey what's up, we're all friends here, obvs. Vicky went over and talked to her for a while because Vicky, apparently, will talk to anyone about anything for any length of time ever. She's like got social super-powers. Or not, I guess it depends on how you look at it.

DANCING: I danced around a lot and got really excited when they played good songs. When they played Umbrella, I screamed and freaked out and said "This is the best moment of my life EVER!"

DRINKING: As the night went on, I drank more drinks. Some of these drinks, drank later in the evening, I remember only remotely how I obtained these drinks.

JUMPING: I wanted everyone to jump up and down with me like we were at Kriss Kross concert. Did I succeed? A little. Carly knew the words usually like I did. It's because of her that I listen to Tegan & Sara, she played me all their songs and now I like them. That's what friends do when they aren't doing drugs.

TACKLING: Carly wanted them to play "Living Room" and kept telling me how many orgasms she'd have if they would play it. I thought it'd be really funny if when they started playing "Living Room," if they ever did play "Living Room," for me to tackle Carly to the ground, but in a playful "I'm going to jump on top of you" way. Did I succeed? I think I did. Most people thought it was an accident and worried I'd hurt myself, but to these people I'd like to ask -- what could my "intent" have possibly been when I lept onto Carly from my post high atop the area? Unfortunately I forgot that, unlike me, most people don't have a ridiculously high thresh-hold for pain, let alone find it thrilling. However, Carly's elbows will definitely heal, as will my ankle, which I twisted on the street way later but totally played off so no one knew about it, including me I was mostly drunk enough to forget until I woke up in unbearable pain later and every 20 minutes all night long. Seriously, also, every time I think about this incident, I LOL. Re-reading Carly writing about it just now I LOLed again. I actually LOLed at the gym when it popped into my head again, even though I was reading an article about this woman getting murdered.

FUN! FUN! FUN! : I have a lot of ideas about being Andy Kauffman and about having fun fun fun fun! fun! fun! And maximizing experience. Also, sometimes i just lurk in the corner and whine that I'm ready to go home. Not this time! I was exciting! Excited! I don't remember what songs they played, they were all good ones, they played Nineteen, for sure. It's a good thing I asked Carly to do a write-up for me, because I don't know what to say.

SIDENOTE: Seriously, writing this on half an ambien and 1/4 an adderall is like being really focused on being really light-headed. I don't think there's any conditions I can't write under, I'm a warrior, like Hunter S. Thompson. Fear and Loathing in Planet Harlem. Good thing I'm seeing my psychiatrist in 9 hours. Good thing he doesn't read this. He was in the Village Voice as the best psychopharmacologist, it made me LOL. I can't spell that word and I don't care.

WALKING WITH A GHOST: When they played "Walking with a Ghost," Haviland was like "Oh! I know this song," and we danced a little. Also when we thought they'd left the stage, I screamed "CLOSER TO FINE! play CLOSER TO FINE!" which is an inside joke you may or may not get.

NORTHERN STATE: I also think I danced with someone from Northern State. Stef is down with them. The girls from Northern State are cute, they are really awesome live even though I don't like listening to their CDs as much. They are so cute in their trackpants and sneaks with their raps, you just want to lick them or make out with them in a bathroom or something.


Okay, THIS JUST IN: Carly's recap. Yay! I'm totally done writing mine now.

Here's Carly !:

The night started out like most nights: drinking. Riese and I almost single-handedly drank at least 1 bottle of wine (Stef helped, but I don't really think she made as much of a dent as we did) and then Cait, Haviland, and Stef went to leave and Riese and I were sitting on the floor in the hallway, laughing (again, not out-of-the-ordinary in the least), so I should've known early on that this was going to be a good night.

I know Riese wants me to talk about the performances and about the bands, and I'll get to all of that soon enough, but first I'd like to point out that we got into a shouting match outside of McDonald's (OMG I just remembered that we had McDonald's before the show like, as I was typing that) over whether or not Cait had just driven past us (I WAS RIGHT). Moving on... [SIDENOTE FROM RIESE: She was totally driving a different car than usual, it was white not grey, for one thing.]

Stef is awesome and got all of us into VIP. All of us = 10 people (that's just how we roll). More drinking ensued, we got there just as Northern State was starting. Well, actually first we went to the bathroom, which reeked of incense. Riese thought the bathroom was on fire, but the smoke was just the actual incense burning! Anyway. I have loved Northern State forevs, back when I worked at Urban Outfitters and we got their first CD and Kai and Serena and I were the only people in all of Orlando, FL who liked them, so we played the CD constantly just to piss everyone off, and then this one time we were ringing some stupid boys up and they were like "this music is so awful" and we told them to shut up cause we were -- in fact -- the three ladies of Northern State, and we were really proud of our album. That shut them right up. Anyway, this was my 2nd time seeing them, the first time was a few months ago at their CD release party also with Riese (thanks Stef!). They are so good live, sometimes I think that they are more awesome live than they are on CD. Totally energetic, totally awesome. They played some stuff from all 3 albums, but mostly new stuff (obvs) and they talked about how they met Tegan and Sara and how two of their songs were recently on Grey's Anatomy (which I totally knew and totally told everyone like 20 times, which I'm sure was not annoying at all). Tegan and Sara are on Grey's a lot too, and both bands were featured last week which was rad. Northern State was also in an episode of Damages, but I'm pretty sure that my family and I are the only people on the planet who have seen it. It's really good! And it just got renewed for two seasons! Totally amazing show. Sorry, I'm off-topic. Anyway, Stef and I shouted lyrics at each other, much to everyone's dismay. Then they were done and we drank more.

Then! Tegan and Sara! Yeah! This was also my second time seeing T&S, the first being in Orlando a few years ago. They put on such an amazing show. Lots of adorable stage banter (and I know from adorable stage banter, as my former band -- Sarah and Carly -- was all about adorable stage banter, and we covered T&S's "More For Me"). They are the two cutest people on the entire planet and I want tattoos like theirs. They sounded amazing live and most of the songs they played were from "So Jealous" and "The Con" (I think they played the entire "The Con" album, or at least most of it, can anyone verify this?) Honestly a little bit of it is a blur still, which is a shame, but I had a great effing time. They opened with "Dark Come Soon," which is one of my favorites songs of theirs. Their encore consisted of _________ (does anyone remember what song was first?), then their AMAZING cover of "Umbrella" (apparently they did not play this in Orlando, I have no idea why), and "LIVING ROOM" which is basically my favorite T&S song ever. I kept saying "play Living Room. You guys, they're totally going to end it on Living Room" because my former bandmate Sarah (see above) texted me at the show (after I texted her and said that the show made me miss our old band, obvs) and said that their last song in Orlando was "Living Room," so I had some insider info. So then it came on and I SCREAMED like a schoolgirl and then everything was a blur. What I can piece together was that Riese screamed too, jumped on me and we went crashing to the ground. My head nearly went through a glass table and all of our combined weight landed on my pointy little elbows. So, needless to say, they are totes achy right now. But it was totally amazing, I was so drunk it hardly stung, just a massive rockstar moment.

Anyway. Compared to seeing them a few years ago in Orlando, I think this was just as good. It's hard to say, really, because the show in Orlando was at the Social which is a much smaller venue and I was close to the stage and could see them really well. They completely rocked at this show, and speaking as someone who has been a fan since the "Under Feet Like Ours" / "This Business of Art" days, I am just thrilled to see the transformation that has occurred over the course of their career. They started as a small folk-rock duo and have turned into total effing rockstars, which is completely badass. I fully love them.

Oh! I forgot to mention that ONCE AGAIN, due to the awesomeness of Stef, I got to meet Hesta and Spero of Northern State and Sara of Tegan and Sara. You rock, Stef! There was a lot more that happened, but I'm sure Riese is going to cover it, or we are going to omit it entirely, because we have to leave some things to the imagination, ya know?

Tegan & Sara Concert Recap Will Go Here Really Soon

This entire blog post is no longer valid, but it's probably better than watching paint dry, if by any chance that's what you were doing before: Once upon a time I asked in a post: "Could someone send me the Tegan & Sara song 'This is Everything'"? And then, within 30 minutes, four people sent it to me, and all four of those people received, in return, selections from my stash of naked photographs of Haviland. It was like magic for those people. Also, I love them more than you.

Wouldn't it've been fun if you'd been one of those people? Well this is your chance! Wheee!! How? Well, keep reading! Also, my computer is currently about to crash, as I've mentioned a 10-15 times. Why's it about to crash? Because my one year of free Apple Care expired two weeks ago, I'm actually kinda happy with life right now, and I no longer owe Visa all of my limbs, just my first-born.

This whole impending-crash situation started when Haviland, out of the goodness of her beautiful heart, burned me the new Britney album and then I tried to upload it, my computer freaked out, and it hasn't stopped whirring/thinking ever since, though I've tried shutting it down and restarting it and all these things. The same thing happened to Hav when I made her an Ani CD, one could argue we're being punished for bad taste. Anyhow, I have an appointment at the Apple Store tomorrow, they're pretty packed right now I guess with tourists who got tickets for their five year old niece (who's dying of SARS, obvs) to see "The Lion King" and now because of the stagehands' strike have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do besides fix their iPhones/Pods. What was I talking about?

Oh yeah. So I still need the Britney album (except "Gimme Gimme," which I have) and I'd like to obtain it for free. Wanna email it to me? TOO LATE! SOMEONE ELSE ALREADY DID! Your computer will probs explode if you send me the entire album at once, but I figure if I throw this out there, along with the fact that Lozo is 6'3, [And also: I'm 5'10, Haviland is 5'5, Natalie is 5'5, Heather is 5'3, Carly is 5'8, A;ex is 5'5, Cait is 5'10, Stef is 5'6, Crystal is 5'10, Lainy is 5'4, my roommate Ryan is 6'3 and my other roommate Zoey is 5'5, um ... I made all of those heights up based on my personal opinion, except for mine, which is fact], the tracks will trickle in and maybe I'll obtain the whole album over the course of the evening. Sooo ... if you have an unprotected version of the Britney "Blackout" album, please email any of its contents (except, as I said, "Gimme Gimme") to marielyn176@gmail.com.

Until I get it, I absolutely cannot write about last evening's events, which include and are not limited to: drunken hijinks, a cover of "Umbrella," Kim Stolz, the V.I.P area, and me jumping up and down like a complete lunatic and dancing as if I actually am a person who should dance in public. Also I thought I broke my ankle (from an accident suffered while running like a roman candle on the street after the concert) but then I went to the gym and I feel soooo much better now. It's good because the injury prevents me from sitting like a Spider Monkey in my chair, as I am wont to do.

Also I cannot possibly email anyone I need to email, including you, if I don't get this music ASAP.

Also, while you're at it, my wish list also includes:
-Any of the contents of Tegan & Sara's first album, "Under Feet Like Ours" - GOT IT
-Timbaland's "The Way I Are" - GOT IT
-Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" - GOT IT
-Prince "F.U.N.K." - GOT IT
-Hannah Montana's "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" - GOT IT
-Pet Shop Boys "Always on my Mind" - GOT IT
-New Order "Bizzarre Love Triangle" - GOT IT

Don't judge.

Or, you know, I could just keep listening to emo music all the time and be sad, or I could listen to "Don't Cry Out" (Shiny Toy Guns) for the 83rd time. Oh. 84th. Up to you.

So Keep the VLOG On Before You Hop Into Bed

My computer won't stop humming, it's been whirring around like a dervish since rejecting Britney's new album last week. I gotta take it to the apple store ... bad news for y'all, as I'll consequently probs complain about it on this blog when I get stuck there for the best most beautiful years of my life. I think this's the first time EVER I've posted a Sunday Top Ten on Sunday and then another blog on Monday, but it's a Very Special Episode of Monday today. Let's be honest, we've shared a lot of big moments together here at Auto-Win, including events like um, the The L Word Season Four Premiere Party, the Uh Huh Her concert and The R-family Cruise. Hm, yup, think that's most of 2007's reportable outings. But, aside from, obviously, The L Word Season Five premiere party, tonight's Tegan & Sara concert is one of the most anticipated events of the winter of our discontent. Actually in this Vlog we seem somewhat content, it's eerie.

I'm still gonna respond to the comments on the last post too and this one, I mean, it's basically still Sunday in blog-time.

This vlog is also a very intimate moment for all of us --as well as for all of the people in the world everywhere who believe in magic , the power of love and the fact that this computer noise is driving me fucking insane -- because it's our first vlog filmed in daylight. This means you see us for who we truly are, not who we are in perfect lighting. We do a reading from "Full House," based on some scripts we got off of this weirdo website for people who like to write fictional stories about the Tanners and transcribe entire episodes into PDFs for us to do dramatic readings with. We did a scene where I got to be Gia, and another where I was Danny, and Hav was DJ and Stephanie and I forget, whatever, seriously I am going to smash my computer into a wall, and then it's gonna be really sorry that it wouldn't stop making this annoying whirring noise, I think this is what happened to Britney and why she fell off the deep end, I mean, it's her album, her computer's probs like Darth Vadar breathing right now.

Anyhow, if you live in NYC and are at the concert tonight, you should say "Hi!" to Haviland, she's really nice. I'm a weirdo in person, as I think I've mentioned before. Or say "Hi" to Carly, Stef, Vicky, Cait, Cesar, Matt or anyone else who looks friendly. Feel free to bring me drinks or small children or a yacht, or your Mom. I have two Moms, actually, so I don't need any more Moms, what I need is a genius from the genius bar to fix my godforsaken computer. Also, P.S., check out our dear LOLing Lainy as a small child, being corrupted by Jodi Sweetin, in the pic on the left. Also, those white overalls called, they said "We're so awesome, we can call you on the phone."

Sunday Top Ten: Everywhere You Look

This week was really heavy and emo 'cause of all the secrets, so this week's Sunday Top Ten will focus on lighter things. Like Bob Saget. See, the stagehands' strike has made a huge impact on my smokin' hot life, 'cause now Haviland's got all her nights off to play! We've been going to lots of fun things, e.g., power-lesbian dance parties, "potlucks"/antioxidant company pitches, hot underground dive bars that play "Gin 'n Juice" and "Mo' Money Mo' Problems" for us and improv comedy shows featuring a cast AND an audience of actors who've been sitting on facebook all day, adding applications and waiting for something to do.

So Thursday night, Haviland, Cait and I went to this improv show called "Don't Quit Your Night Job," there were lots of famous people in it like the girl from "The Sopranos," which I've never seen because I don't like guns or New Jersey. It started way past my bedtime, like 11:30. Alicia Witt was slated to appear but apparently SVU filming ran late, which's fine, I can just look at her photos online whenevs I want to, it's a free country. I think my brain is frozen or something, I can't seem to put words into sentences, I've got like forty ads to write tomorrow and I haven't started, I'm doing this though, why? I don't know, this seems to be a common problem. I'm sure I'll write an ad tomorrow for work (that's what I do, write job ads) looking for someone who can prioritise tasks efficiently, and I'll think to myself, "It's a good thing I don't have that job." I think writing this Top Ten takes less brain power than doing my actual work, I don't need a college degree to tell you that, but I have one anyway, because I love to learn.

Sooo ... unlike Busy-Busy-Alicia-Witt, Bob Saget was in it, and as he joked around and made us LOL, Hav leaned over, put her hand on my thigh tenderly, and whispered sweetly: "Is it weird that I kinda wanna sleep with Danny Tanner right now? He's just so cute! He's such a nerd!" and I was like "No, it's not at all, I'd totally go for it with Bob Saget." Which got us onto the topic of what other cast members of the television program Full House we'd like to sleep with, thus bringing us to this week's Sunday Top Ten.

SUNDAY TOP TEN: WHO, OF ALL THE PEOPLE WHO'VE BEEN ON THE TEEVEE SHOW FULL HOUSE, WOULD I LIKE TO SHARE AN INTIMATE MOMENT WITH IN ORDER OF PREFERENCE (I think that's a grammatical nightmare, all that up there)

First off, I know some of you live in foreign countries and though you're probs aware of Mary Kate & Ashley, you may not be familiar with their launching pad, the teevee show Full House, which aired from 1985-1997 and is currently in syndication for all of time constantly. Therefore, I'm gonna provide this brief intro for you, which I've copied and pasted from Wikipedia: "Full House is set in San Francisco, California, where Danny Tanner is left to raise his three young daughters D.J., Stephanie and Michelle following the death of his wife, Pam." Pam. I didn't know her name was Pam. Here I am, learning learning learning. Also, this weirdo put like, every episode of this show on her youtube channel, if you're interested in watching. It's bad, p.s. The show? It's a really, really, really bad show. There are no lesbians in it whatsoever.

Also, to be honest, I didn't watch this show that often intentionally, but I feel like it was always on and my friends always watched it. Everywhere you look, everywhere you look, someone was watching this show. I wasn't allowed to watch it at home, obvs, because I'm Amish.

10-8: By default, I'm forced to include some people I'd probably not want to buy chicken nuggets for, let alone sit around and stroke the hair of. But that's the rules [that I made for myself, wtf?]! Gotta pick TEN. So, OK; Kimmy (You'd have to be really drunk to bone Kimmy, and -- believe it or not, I've never actually kissed someone drunk I wouldn't want to kiss sober -- never had "beer goggles" or whateves. For Kimmy, you'd also need beer earplugs, are beer goggles just for boys? Oh I don't drink beer, got it.), D.J's boyfriend Steve, and Michelle's black girl friend. The black girl's grown-up now, so it's not gross or anything, don't worry, she's actually legitimately hot, but I'm putting her up here in the netherlands of hotness just 'cause 1. She was a baby then, therefore it still feels gross, 2. I actually don't even remember her being on the show, I'm just getting her link from the Wikipedia article.

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7. UNCLE JESSE/JOHN STAMOS

Really, you should've seen the look on Hav's face when I told her I wouldn't've been opposed, at one point, to watching a DVD and popping some popcorn with Uncle Jesse. I know his career's taken a bit of a nosedive since then -- but he wore a white t-shirt, a black leather jacket, played in a band, and got to curl up next to Aunt Becky every night. I like how he did his hair, he was totally my type. I was like, hey take me for a ride on your motorcycle, lets go! Write me a rock and roll song!

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6. MARY KATE AND ASHLEY OLSON/MICHELLE

I like more my IDEA of what they'd look like as adults, rather than how they actually did turn out to look, which is "about to die from starvation." I read all about their gazillion-dollar empire in New York Times Magazine probably 8-10 years ago, and was like "Whoa!" and then, lickity split, they were grown-up and famous with a million videos I'll never see. I like their style though, the hobo thing? Layering? I'm a fan of layering. Keeps you warm in the winter, it's hard out here on the streets. Regulators, mount up.

Not gonna lie: I loved Michelle and thought her character was non-stop hilarious. Watching these clips on youtube, I'm inclined to agree with myself. The twins that Aunt Becky birthed were funny too, we have similar haircuts.

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5. STEPHANIE/JODI SWEETIN

Okay, tell me she's not a little hot right now? She wasn't the cutest or least annoying, but certainly given the choice between Stephanie and, say, Dave Coulier, I'd pick Stephanie. Jodi Sweetin. Plus you could make jokes, like "I'd like a little Sweet ... in." What am I talking about?

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4. DANNY TANNER/BOB SAGET

I think many know this now, esp. if you've seen the Full House E! True Hollywood Story (I can't remember when the fuck I had time to watch all this teevee. I honestly don't think I've watched anything for about a month now, whenever it was that they introduced Vanessa to Gossip Girl and her character was so ridiculously unlike her character in the book that I had to turn it off, I was so pissed) or the ET Full House "expose," you know that Bob Saget's comedy is totally "adult" and this show was a bit out-of-left-field for Saget. As was the Funniest Home Videos gig. He's a genuinely talented, sexy, nerdy, adorable, hilarious, charismatic, awkward-sorta guy. You just wanna lie around with him, eat potato chips and listen to him say funny jokes. Possibly forever.

*
3. AUNT BECKY/LORI LOUGHLIN

She's just foxy, try to fight me on this one, I'll poke your eyes out 'cause you don't know how to use 'em anyhow. if you did, you wouldn't be fighting me, you'd be like "yes, clearly, Aunt Becky, love her.'

*
2. GIA/MARLA SOKOLOFF

Confession: you know when you look back on your life and think "that's when I shoulda known I might be gay," that's how I feel about my lifelong imaginary affair with Malra Sokoloff. I've wanted to bone her since before I knew how babies were made. She played the badass best friend on every show ever, like "Boy Meets World" and "Party of Five" and "Seventh Heaven." Her characters always came from troubled families with "problems" at home, e.g., "Oh, this bruise is nothing, I just fell down the stairs!" or "Mom's just sleeping, she's just so tired from working so much." The parents of the protagonist would be like "Don't hang out with her, she's bad news." I think Gia got Stephanie into drugs and then ran her car off a cliff or into a tree or something, which made me super depressed, I didn't want her to leave the show/my life, wtf? Whatever, she was totally badass. She could be my best friend/best whatevs.

****
1. D.J

Me: "OMG you know who number one's gonna be right?"
Haviland: "Um, obviously."
Cait: "Who?"
Me & Hav [simultaneously]: "D.J."

I really need Haviland to write this one, only she can truly do justice to this. However, Haviland isn't here, though her bag is, and I want you to know I haven't gone through it. OK, let me go see if there's anything funny in it, BRB. No, just shoes and a computer and sunglasses, what a rockstar.

D.J's almost kinda chubby for a few years, but in a totally cute way, like you'd like to grab her ass, possibly all night long, forever. You could just eat her bangs right up. Wow. I actually wrote this entire Top Ten just now in record time. Can you tell? I've got a feeling you can. Also, Mr. Redacted, FYI, these aren't real people. Or are they?

UPDATE. Haviland's written her piece about D.J., which is clearly the cherry on top of this Top Ten. She just asked me "Did you really go through my bag?" 'cause she was worried I would've found all the heroin and antioxidants she's got stashed in her secret pocket, obviously I didn't, if I had, we would've had to have a Very Special Episode of the Vlog.

Haviland:

"I always had an affinity for DJ, because I felt like we would've been friends. She was so cute, so patient with Kimmy's ridiculosity, so stern with her annoying little sisters. I blew out my very curly/frizzy hair to look as much like DJ's as possible, complete with that flip at the front of her hair, side part, etc ... It mostly just looked really frizzy, but I did it, like we all did, nonetheless.

I also dressed a lot like DJ, especially around '91-'92. This also, coincidentally, followed the fashion stylings of Brenda Walsh, and also, Kelly Kapowski - but I looked more like Valerie than like Kelly.
You know what I mean, and you know the look - oversized t-shirts, neon spandex shorts, slouch socks (2-3 pairs if you were really hip) and white Keds with copious amounts of puff paint.

For those of you who didn't know me when I was a 'tween, I was, well, "a little chubby." Yep, I was a chub. Riese and I often talk about those troubling times, and how, though she was in Michigan and I was in Georgia, we would have wanted to have the other's problems ... I would have looked at her natural emaciation and longed, prayed, pined for it.

Also, I wore glasses, braces, and that damn frizzy hair. (I did have really good skin, though. Thank God for that.) Also, my mom was really cool, drove a convertible, and let me skip school to be in movies all the time, so there was that."

[SIDENOTE: This is Riese again. I didn't have glasses, but I did have braces and frizzy hair. I wanted to gain about 40 pounds so that my leggings wouldn't be baggy, because it was hard to rock denim shorts over leggings when the leggings weren't actually skin-tight, and once I tried to leave the house in tights and a t-shirt and my Mom was like "no way." Also we were only allowed to wear hand-me-downs from my cousins in Ohio, gender-neutral seperates from K-Mart, or used clothes from the used clothing store 'Old Woman in the Shoe', so we were a bit behind the times.]

Haviland: "Anyway, back to DJ. She was so cute, and the fact that she was kind of chubby and also a star of a very successful sitcom, playing the "kinda hot older sister" who had the hot boyfriend ... it gave me a lot of hope.

And look where I am today, beautiful babies! (LOL? Really? What am I talking about?) I don't know.

At this moment, I would love to be on a show like that, playing, obvs, the Aunt Becky role."

You guys, this was the best Sunday Top Ten Ever. Thanks Hav! Thanks DJ! Thanks Bob Saget! Hav just goes "I love grapes so much." Write that down. Oh, I just did.

Sunday Top Ten: Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except Me and My Monkey

Hello, welcome to Friday. How are you? Good, good. This is fo'reals the last post of Secrets Week. JK! I mean: it is. This is the last post of secrets week, but I've got a few left that I want to treat properly, so I'll use 'em next week some time, I'm gonna take a vaycay from talking about you and return to making fun of myself for a few days. If by 2008 you don't see yours in here, it's 'cause you're a complete fuck-up and I can't handle your issues, or because putting up all the Riese-Shrine photos I received would seem a little self-indulgent, and clearly I do not indulge the self. No, it's because it got lost in the shuffle probs, like my favorite green hat and my American Eagle hoodie, both MIA for a few weeks now. And Amber, where's Amber? I don't know. You can email me with YOU ARE RETARDED in the subject line or something, and then re-paste your secret, if you don't see it here by 2008.

**

**

So many of my personal friends responded with "You know all my secrets, right? Use whatevs." Really though? I don't know if any of my friends know all my secrets. My journal -- you know, the old fashioned pen-and-ink kind, is The Real Secret vault. There's still so much I'll never tell, never, and I hate that, and that maybe this blog is often a massive overcompensation for the guilt associated with these compromises. Maybe that's why I'm so non-judgmental of others, because I feel I've got the same ugly secrets, I'm just hiding mine better.

Thus, I'm obsessed with various permutations of "truth" [Thus, I la-la-la-loved Closer]... I believe that often ignorance is bliss, but sometimes lying is a cop-out too. I had a friend who checked her boyfriend's email as regularly as she checked her own, and the thing is that chances are you've got a lot of evil thoughts about people you love but you can't tell them everything, I mean, it's not relevant, you gotta filter. If he was cheating on her, there'd be more evidence than one flirtatious email to an old girlfriend she uncovered deviously. That's why I don't read other people's journals or hack into their email (unless they are having affairs with 16-year-old synchronized swimmers using the laptop I gave them) because I've realised that what we choose to communicate with each other often holds an intent even purer than truth.

We do what we do to each other and reveal what we do for a reason, to meet a certain end/intent, and the reason often matters more than our darkest paranoias or theories about it, 'cause that's the truth of what we want even if it's not the truth of how we feel, so it's the only practical thing to say. Does that make sense? Probably not. I'm not sure if I even know what I'm talking about. This is, as you may notice, a pattern with me. What's my secret? I've got that song from Beauty and the Beast stuck in my head, it's making me crazy. Bonjour! Good-day! How is your family? Bonjour! Good-day! How is your wife? But she won't find out it's him 'til Chapter THREEEEEEEE.

*
"You knew me pretty well but I never let you see my dark side." (Chris Pureka)
*

What's my Secret? That's sort of a lie up there because I used to read other people's journals almost compulsively. So gross. This was years ago -- high school, I guess ... the last time I read someone else's journal was -- I'll call him "Rick." It was March 2000, he was in the shower, it was right there, right next to the bed, I just had to look. He'd written "I'm "dating" Marie now, she's sooo cute, hot body ... but she's 18, and it shows, she's soooo 18 ..." and I thought, "Wow, I gotta start acting more mature." He was 27. Sidenote, I'm almost 27, and still not mature, so I don't think it was an age thing. I also thought of that line from Sex and the City that Miranda says when a guy calls her sexy: "Smart, yes, sometimes cute, but never sexy. Sexy is the thing I try to get them to see me as after I win them over with my personality," to which Carrie responds: "You win men over with your personality?"

I got addicted to his journal. I needed it to tell me what to do next, until it started telling me about the other women, the ones who were his age and mature, soooooo mature, "real women" who had multiple orgasms like easy and apparently didn't think it was cool to race him to the subway stop or dance on the bar or run drunk through Times Square doing heel-clicks like in Newsies or dress in costume just for fun.

Then he read mine. We shared a locker at work, I trusted him [I don't know why I trusted him, but I did], I kept my journal in the locker.

I didn't know this of course; he just ignored me for about two weeks and then when I asked him why he was being such a consistent douchetard he finally came out with it: "Why do you care how I act to you? Aren't I BORING, anyhow?"

Omg, omg, like, if I'd had ten cheerleaders behind me going "O! M! G!" that wouldn't've been enough. Didn't he know I'm made the Top Ten Reasons I Can't Date Rick because I didn't think I had a choice, and I needed to feel better about my only option?

And also, sidenote, he was kinda boring, as a person, but I was never bored with him. We had fun together, we made each other laugh a lot and he made me feel pretty.

How unfair, I thought, and how unshakeable. I also wondered why he hadn't noted, on that same list, that I didn't like this one navy blue turtleneck t-shirt sweater, because he totally kept wearing it. This is that list, from my journal, May 2000:

Why He's Wrong For Me:
1. Likes Armageddon and other bad movies.
2. Fat-ish.
3. Doesn't like my writing
4. Too old
5. Becoming weird about going out.
6. Doesn't read poetry.
7. Weird attitude about women.
8. Those light jeans and that one blue turtleneck -- HATE IT.
9. Sometimes, he bores me.
10. He only cares about money -- has no true passion in life.

He still made me see Mission to Mars with him, so obviously he saw what he wanted to see anyhow. There's only so much space for the reality we've decided is our own, and sometimes that reality involves Ben Affleck like it or not. Also, hello, Sunday Top Ten, birthing itself right there.

**

The point is that I learned my lesson. You don't really wanna know what people say about you in their journal, but I'm glad that he had one, for his sake. Ignorance is totes bliss, sometimes ... but lately, I've been thinking maybe it's not. Maybe we'd all be better off if we figured out a way to keep something inside but also to be way more honest than we are. Emotional truths: important. We shouldn't read each other's journals, but maybe there wouldn't be so much to hide if we stopped hiding, like from ourselves. Yeah, I'm totally Angela Chase today.

So .... yeah. Thanks, dudes. For like, sharing your secrets with me. It's awesome to hear that seeing them has helped you in some way, that's the best thing I could ever hope for, seriously.

And thus, here we go, Bonjour! Good day! wWAAAAA.
**

SUNDAY TOP TEN: PART FOUR OF FIVE:
SECRETS SECRETS STILL ARE FUN
AND IT SEEMS AS THOUGH I'LL NEVER BE DONE
DOES ANYONE WANT SOME RUM?
NOT ME, I LIKE VODKA, BUT THANKS.
DUM-DUM-DUM.
*

*
16. Like O, Like H

Rayanne's home from college for the summer and so she gets a job at Circuit City, where she sells major appliances like overpriced refrigerators, dishwashers and vacuum cleaners. Her coworkers, slightly more dedicated to the fine art of keeping things Cold and Clean, are all older men and she's the only young firm object/body with tits. In fact, she believes her hiring is owed equally to the following three things: good grades, rudimentary understanding of refrigeration technology, C-cups.

Steve works in Car Stereo Install, which's the big-box store equivalent of blue collar. He's tall and good looking, barrel-chested and of black Irish descent, and he ignores Rayanne which naturally intrigues her. He disappears for two weeks and returns with stories of visiting distant relatives in Dublin, and it all sounds so romantic -- Irish cousins he barely knew, taking him in and feeding him, keeping him swimming in whiskey and ale. He returns with gifts for his mother.

He strolls into the aisle between the washers and the dryers and Rayanne nearly forgets everything she knows about defrosters when he approaches her, smiling all dimpled, all white teeth and lips and a strong chin with its rough, black stubble. She wonders what that might feel like on her neck and that wonder flushes her face and skin and her breath is intentional: "Hello there," she says, like a movie star.

"I took a trip to Ireland. I brought this back for you".

English Lavender. She's confused and flattered. They make plans for Friday night. She laughs nervously, her curiosity burns, and doesn't die down when she learns he's a Jesus freak. Really? Not one of THOSE Jesus freaks, okay then, she wants to know how that stubble feels. His hair looks soft.

Yes, she says, let's go for a drive in your car. The stubble is sandpaper, but he's gentle, he can kiss.

The summer hums on. She sells crappy microwaves to single men and giant refrigerators to obese women. She thinks: maybe I won't go back to college. I could just keep working, right? The money's pretty good.

More Friday nights are spent making out in the car: she's virginal and unsure but his hands know things about how to hold hips and her legs know something about how to straddle and respond to the indecent suggestions of his lips.

Stop, he says.

Stop? She says.

We know where this is going, he says.

We do? She says.

Yes, he says. I'm a Christian, Ray.

Right, she thinks. He mustn't be seduced by virginal flesh.

You should be ashamed, he says, almost removing her body from his body like it's a blanket the world just got too warm for.

What the fuck did you just say? She asks. She feels sick. Will he see her again? Can they just slow things down?

His stubble is rough, she wants to claw the flesh from her cheek. Also she's got no plans to accept Jesus as her personal savior. In fact, she's already eyeing the door as she so often does, the door she believes in far stronger than he claims to believe in something holy and designated as such. She doesn't want to meet his mothers. She will build temples to honor her escape. He doesn't seem to understand. Don't call me, she tells him. She's going back to college.

Oh -- and? All her doors swing open, slam shut. I fucking hate English Lavender.

*
17. I Hear Noises

Kim likes to performance dance to Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights" for an audience. She's pretty sure it makes everyone else uncomfortable and embarrassed for her, but she refuses to give it up up until she wins some kind of gold medal, perhaps earns one million you tube clicks. "Something in this league."
**

Lisa says she's bisexual and is active in the bisexual-activist community, but the truth is she's really only interested in girls if she's watching her boyfriend fuck them.

**

Nicole has regular sexual dreams about her brother and has for about a decade. She blames V.C. Andrews.

**
18. So Jealous

When Elyse and Jordan broke up, she first got depressed and then depressed/completely fucked up and then so jealous when she saw him with another girl that she could barely do anything besides prove as often as possible that she was desired, desirous, desirable.

So she decided to seduce the French exchange teacher. One loaded moment of eye contact can make something into something, just like that. He was maybe 24 and she was 17 so it wasn't too creepy, just totally illegal and weird and "not hot at all."

After it happened, she was over it immediately. Mission accomplished. She went back to being an obsessive tater-tot-eating jealous high school girl but she knew that he was probably racked with guilt and petrified that she'd tell on him.

The next day, he sent her an email that said "Pas de regrets, et toi?" As in: "If I say I don't regret this huge mistake maybe she won't tell on me."

She didn't. She only told one person; me. What's my secret? I actually kept it, among others.

I've been historically bad at this; not at blurting others' secrets to the world, but at establishing secret clauses to secret-keeping. Like; "Well, I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but OBVS I have to tell you, as you're my boyfriend/girlfriend/BFF" or whatever. I got better at not doing this as I got older, but now it's easier to navigate since my friends are all over the place and might not even meet each other [until someone decides for some insane reason to marry me and then obvs all my friends will meet each other because there'll probs be a large party involving copious amounts of drink, and Diet Doctor Pepper for Haviland. Did I mention that I proposed to Haviland at the Time Warner Center? I think I did. However I didn't have a ring, because I'm not a money tree, so, you know, so don't think that if she's not wearing one it means she didn't say "Yes."].

But every now and then you have someone who's secrets you keep like second nature, you just do it, you just can't betray them, and won't, and not because of fear but because it feels just totally wrong to do so, you're not tempted, you're just silent.

*
19. Time Running

This happened to Sharon when she was 12 and it changed everything more than she's cared to admit. More than she's admitted. She was twelve. She had to stay late at school and therefore walked home alone.

At the top of her road she saw a guy standing near her house. Chances are she would've quickly forgotten this if what followed hadn't happened (He isn't going to rape her, I'm telling you this now because if that's what you're expecting, as I was, then your primary reaction to what follows will be relief that she doesn't get raped, and I don't want relief to be a part of what you feel about it, so I'm saying this now.)

He sees her, he turns, he walks away, and she thinks nothing of it 'til she reaches her back gate and sees him still standing there, smoking. He buts out his cigarette. He pulls down his pants.

She didn't know what to do: he was right in front of her gate. She keeps walking, she puts her head down and walks by in front of him.

This she remembers: in one swift moment, when she's passing and he's got his pants down, poised for something she knows can't possibly be good -- he takes that moment to put his hand on her ass, lean into her ear and say, hot and heavy breathing, "Alright, darling."

Sharon has something in her hand, she swings it, she doesn't know if she hits him or not but the next thing she remembers is turning around and seeing him running up the road. She stands there for a few seconds, takes some deep breaths, and goes inside. She walks right into the living room, looks at her Mom and her Mom asks: 'Are you alright?"

She has a million thoughts but she doesn't know the words for them, doesn't know yet how it feels to be touched when it's not a violation, doesn't know anything, she's twelve, experience, after all, is relative to only one thing which is all other experience, so she says: "Yeah, I'm fine. Work okay?"

Sharon isn't sure why she still hasn't told anyone, and sometimes she wonders if keeping it inside has enabled her to almost forget, like how sometimes she looks back and thinks it may've just been a dream.

She's gotten to the stage where she thinks that people would just think she was being silly if she told them, because "nothing" happened, things could've been so much worse: she was lucky that she was at her back gate and lucky that she had something to swing and lucky that nothing happened. But the thought of what could've happened--what was about to happen--scared her then, and continues to.

Maybe it's not that big of a thing, she reasons, but she was twelve. She thought life was safe. It was the first legitimately frightening thing to ever put it's breath or hands someplace unexpected and also the first frightening thing she's dealt with alone.

*
20. Clever Meals

Megan: "There's another kind of secret that transcends these innocent, everyday dishonesties. A sort of deception that, if revealed, would change what even your closest friends think of you. It'd change what they'd say when they talked about you, and it wouldn't be something you could apologize for or change. You just have to live with it buried in the coldest recesses of your conscience or risk forever exposing yourself for what you truly are. Most people are lucky enough not to bear this sort of secret. I am not so lucky. You might think this selfish, but that's only because you've ever experienced the darkness i've known for thirteen years. It's with this meager apology that I must let it be known ..."

Megan doesn't like Wes Anderson films. It felt good for her to say it out loud, after she recovered from the shock. It's just not fait. She's exactly the kind of person who oughta unabashedly adore Wes Anderson. She owns a white belt like the other shiny, happy hipsters. ("I'm not wearing it right now, obviously, but I own it.") Why can't she see the brilliance in these movies? All she sees is a science fiction film that's set in reality, "which is retarded."

Yes, she's seen them all: Rushmore, Bottle Rocket, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic. She's done what she could to fill this gaping hole in her hipster delusion -- but she'd like to add, having seen them all, that they're really not any different from one another.

She knows that were her friends to discover her true feelings, she'd be permanently branded as hands down totes uncool, more of a J-Crew chino totesbag toter who puts summer blockbusters on reserve at her local store, she probs couldn't even use Netflix to obtain her uncool movies. She'll just continue to laugh along as grown men run around onscreen in yellow jumpsuits, shooting precious statements of overgrown boyhood into inappropriate situations while a stone-faced Bill Murray extols self-consciously fetishized snibbets of wisdom onto the young scholars in his accidental care.

Unlike Coldplay, Life of Pi, and Grey's Anatomy, the evidence is stacked against her and she's certain the problem "lies unquestionably with me, not West Anderson. Acceptance is the first step. All I can do now is simply pray that my sordid abnormality is never discovered by my friends, relatives," or anyone else she could ever see ever.

[What's my secret? I couldn't even get through Life Aquatic or Bottle Rocket actually, though I loved Royal Tenenabums because Margot Tennenbaum is my hero both for her supreme sense of style (the eyeliner and the blonde hair, the polo shirts) and her deadpan delivery of life's must brutal truths. I'm likely to quote her and you might not even know it if you aren't as dedicated as me. She is everything I ever want to be in life and more and I dedicated the entire winter of 2004 to becoming Margot, even announcing this intention to the entire dinner table when Natalie's parents took us out for her birthday, which didn't go over as well as the other diners plans to get internships and such. Howevs, all his movies are slightly irritating though, just 'cause they're so super precious and like "oh, look at these boys who can't grow up, they are so adorable awww." I liked Rushmore.]