A 26-year old Warlem almost-hipster navigates the rocky roads of her smokin' hot life. This includes post-college ennui, the tipping balance between emotional withdrawal and frightening investment, the 1 train, 10-dollar bottles of "drinkable" Pinot Grigio and the gaping holes in her Chuck Taylors. She'd like to lie more often than she does, because honesty is a real bitch.
I finished this month's Autowin Book Club selectionLying, by Lauren Slater, last week. Some parts made my stomach hurt, some parts were brilliant, some parts made me angry/violent/conflicted. I found it personally compelling on many levels (writer, storyteller, friend, sanity). We'll talk about it on Monday September 22nd, 'cause Allie says talking about literature isn't fun on the weekends, but seems (relatively) fun when confronted with the slings and arrows of ordinary work on Monday morning. Does that work for everyone? I hope so, 'cause you know how RuPaul feels about working. [see photo, left]
Coincidentally, the 22nd is the day before my 5,560th birthday. On the 23rd I'll be moving into a nursing home to eat canned peaches w/cottage cheese and moan about how I could've been a famous writer of famous bestselling novels if I'd just really wanted it more. We can watch Cocoon and Fried Green Tomatoes and talk about kids these days while scratching our wigs, and if any of my "friends" at the "home" say "You look awfully young for a geriatric!" then I'll just spit pudding in their face and say, "Well, now you taste like pudding." And that'll be the end of that conversation.
Speaking of being a senior citizen, Natalie and I caught the early bird special 4:30 show of "Bedbugs" at the New York Musical Theater Festival Wednesday afternoon, starring Alex Vega on drums and a bunch of actors and actresses playing all the other non-drum-related parts, e.g., singing the songs, performing lines, dancing. It's like an 80's glam rock musical green glittery homosexy spectacular of synthy poppy loveliness. Go see it.
Also, a brief Autowin PSA ... bitch magazine is gonna go under if they don't raise $45,000 by October 15th. I don't know if you read it, but I'm gonna be really depressed if it goes under, please do what you can to help. As you're probs aware, if I jump off the roof of The Olive Garden Times Square I will no longer be able to blog, 'cause I'll have no arms and therefore no fingers and how can I type or be a practicing homosexual without fingers? Exactly. quote: "In real life, every day you might come to a new conclusion about yourself and about the reasoning behind your behavior, and you can tell yourself that this knowledge will make all the difference. But in all likelihood, you're going to keep doing the same old things. You'll still be the same person. You'll still cling to your destructive, debilitating habits because your emotional tie to them is so strong--so much stronger than any dime-store insight you might come up with--that the stupid things you do are really the only things you've got that keep you centered and connected." (Elizabeth Wurtzel, Now More Again)links: 1. it makes me sad that someone so talented and so brilliant is no longer with us and will not be writing any more words or footnotes again. it makes me sad that the world was too much, or not enough, or just was, I guess, for someone the world needed -- needs -- so much, and especially now. -R.I.P David Foster Wallace (@n+1) -in his honour, playboy has reprinted david foster wallace's first piece of fiction: Late Night (@playboy) 2. publishing: once doomed, now fucked. the end of book publishing in america. (@nymag) 3. "the income for top people in a wide variety of occupations that do not require a college degree is higher than the average income for many occupations that require a b.a.": are too many people going to college?(@the american) 4. america's next top model recap: pee up or shut up (@fourfour) 5. haviland. once again I am posting a link that links to the Sarah Palin vlogs. if you miss this one too, we're not friends anymore.: Sara Benicasa as Sarah Palin (@lustylady) 6. how people read on the web - like dumbshits. online literacy is a lesser kind. (@the chronicle of higher ed.) 7. babar! freeing the elephants (@the new yorker) 8. nerve does the 50 buzziest blog posts of all time, which includes this incredible look at the photoshopping of faith hill's redbook cover i must've missed the first time around, like before i realized jezebel was awesome. amazingly enough, my fight with that woman was not on the list. (@nerve) 9. this is why i left sarah lawrence: reforming the requirement-free curriculum (@inside higher ed) 10. You are forcing me to remember when all I want is to just forget you. (@achtung baby) 11. laramie given an epilogue a decade later. (@nytimes) 12. Lindsay Lohan and the New Definition of "Out" (@after ellen)
quote:"To explode with flesh, without collapse. / To feel sick in my skeleton / in all the serious confetti / of my cells, and know why." (from "Me in Paradise," by Brenda Shaughnessy.) links: 1. I was going to link to this before I even realized who wrote it!: Obama's Impossible Speech, by Sam Anderson. (@nymag) 2. "Deep Holes": short story by Alice Munro. (@the new yorker) 3. Critics Choose Their Most Loathed Books (@the times online uk) 4. No Clear Winner Emerges In Keith Gessen’s Party To Take Back the Internet: "Gessen had spent the last two weeks on the Internet! he shouted over the din of the crowd. And during that time, he learned that the Internet was a place where people expressed their pain! (“Isn’t that what literature is?” somebody shouted back.) He would continue to express his pain via the Internet, he declared! Eventually, he got off the table." (@gawker) 5. Vote for Muffin!: Haviland stars in a staged reading of VOTE! The Musical in NYC on June 30th, check out THE VOTE! SHOW! "Your Next Prez" featuring Hav in a cheerleader skirt!. (@youtube) 6. Furthermore: "Is Google Making Us Stupid?" (@the atlantic.) 7. Also, The World of the Used Book. (@popmatters) 8. Oh! AND! One day I'm gonna have a nice website that'll use this technique: Hand-Drawing Style In Modern Web Design - Volume 2 (@smashing magazine) 9. So, She's Got the Look = ANTM (@fourfour) 10. And also. also. also. Thanks, But No Thanks by Will Doig; Same sex-marriage is wonderful progress, but I'd prefer a civil union. (@nerve)
quote: "The more withered the reality, the more gigantic and tyrannical the dream. From the dark hole of a bar on a street of sickness and whores comes a teeming cloud of music sparkling with warmth and glamour: Sweet dreams of rhythm and magic-- Look in and see dark dead blurs slumped on stools." (Veronica, Mary Gaitskill.) links:1) Okay, now The New York Times Magazine has officially gone from being controversial to just being weird. This Sunday's cover story: Tyra Banks. Good thing she doesn't have any tattoos or ex-boyfriends. (@the new york times magazine) 2)The Coffee Junkie's Guide to Caffeine Addiction (@nymag) 3) A surprisingly eloquent article about Angelina Jolie. With links to a retrospective of prior articles including one from 2005 which she states: "Men don't really like skinny, do they? Ever since I dated a woman, I know what it is to grab a curve on a woman's body. Skinny's not fine when the lights are low." (@vanity fair) 4)The Book Collection That Devoured My Life: "I'm not a snob about books, but I'm probably a show-off -- as who isn't? My showing-off is of a pretty low-key if not completely abstruse sort, though ... it's rather a closed circle; I impress myself." (@wsj) 5) My neighbors smoke crack on my stoop, but apparently the real problem worthy of immediate legal action is when your neighbor is a "bohemian" woman offering tantric massage. Goddess Bless America. Let the woman spread the tantra! Damn the Man! (@sexpros) 6) RKB talks to The Reality-Cast (RH Reality Check: Information and Analysis for Reproductive Health) about the links between feminism and erotica and her new book Dirty Girls! The podcast also covers an NY sex ed battle involving the crazy pro-abstinentence people, gay couples celebrating their new rights, etc. From the podcast, RKB is talking about "Fucking Around, " AKA MY story!!!:
"It's really beautiful, and what I love about it is that it almost makes me cry when you read it, but it's also really sexy. And anyone who can do all of those things; who can make you laugh and can make you cry and can really turn you on ... is a really good writer." -RKB, talking about memememeemememe
7) Poem: "Dearborn Suite" by Phillip Levine: "Henry, master of Dearborn, / who loathes sharing the light / with the unenlightened among us." (@the new yorker) 8) "Chances are, if you came of age in the '90s and have an even glancing relationship to music, you made your fair share of mix tape for various friends and lovers. If those parties reciprocated, and if you are a pack rat, their lovingly curated compilations are probably still in storage somewhere in your home. Go dig one up ... let the aforementioned wistfulness wash over you."Mix Tape Nostalgia"(@utne reader) 9) "The tip of the tongue state" occurs once a week: "What's That Name?" (@the boston globe) 10) "It’s not just about bodies, or running time, of course but of dramatic scope, theatrical invention and sheer entertainment value. “August” is a big play in just about every way.": "The Big Cast, Bigger Canvas, of Broadway" (@the ny times) most recenct autowin: "It's 4 AM and your girl is lovely, hubble (Obligatory SATC Post)" [all photos by julia fullerton-batten. see more of her work : here.]
As I mentioned last week (in great hyperlinked detail), December is National List-Writing Month, which is for me how African-American History Month is for people from history who were African-American. But this randomized December weekend has left me stumped for the absolute best list to construct. There's a good one in the newest preview for The L Word, which actually convinced me for two minutes that it might be good next season, but like seriously. I'm also at peace with the death of Dana Fairbanks and I'll tell you why in the first Season Five recap, but that could have something to do with my open mind, ready to accept Ilene Chaiken into my life. In fact, I've decided to write her a series of haikus over the course of the month. Here's the first:
Ilene. Are you mean? It will remain to be seen. Hey, nice new haircut.
HEY GUYS: This isn't finished. Just a heads-up. Just thought I'd put something here overnight to simmer and ideally delight, like a pie on the windowsill.
Also speaking of OurChart I'm not gonna be your friends plus unless we really did make out, and even then, probs not, 'cause really Papi? That's between me and myself and I, and sometimes Lozo.
Anyhow, back to Autowin. For those of you that don't watch TLW, I'd suggest that you just imagine I'm talking about real people, real friends, and find it amusing that way. Mr. Redacted's ass-kissing assistant did, so you may as well too. Anyhoooooo .... I considered the following: Best quotes, moments, "things I've learned," worst moments, biggest surprises, the little things that got me through it all, best people, best whatevs. I dunno. I'm drawing a blank. So when in doubt, someone once said somewhere: write what you know. And this here be what I know.
SUNDAY TOP TEN: TOP 10 WEIRDOS OF 2007
10. Everyone In Planet Harlem
My neighborhood is essentially an open air insane asylum, and, if you've been paying attention, you're aware that I know from insane asylums. (Sidenote: If you haven't, let me clarify -- I've never personally been committed, though this dude I worked with at the OG used to tell me I reminded him of Heather Graham in the movie "Committed," and then I saw it, and she's obvs a total lunatic in that movie, and it's called "committed," get it?). In fact, we call it Planet Harlem 'cause of heckler's legendary comment to me one fine Summer afternoon: "Welcome to Planet Harlem, white girl." Actually, though people tend to think I'm just talking crazy when I say this: the reason that I cut my hair off was 'cause I was sick of people yelling at me all the time on the street, 'cause 125th is super-congested: apocalyptic literature vendors, super-aggro homeless people, incense salesman, DVD selling dudes and HECKLERS. The worst is the construction people slaving away on Harlem's constant gentrification building projects. I just wanted all these dudes to stop fucking yelling at me so I cut off my hair, wore baggier pants, and guess what, it totally worked. Also helpful: staying indoors 24/7.
9. Natasha on America's Next Top Model
Natasha may not've turned out to literally be a mail-order bride (just a randomized 18-year old Russian girl who married a fortysomething American dude and popped out a baby faster than McDonald's pops out a special-ordered cheeseburger sans-toppings), but she is hands-down-totes the most amazing person to ever appear on ANTM. She refuses to accept negative feedback, pretendin as if it's all positive. "When you name something, you can spell it as wrong or as right as you want." See, if you believe that you can spell words however you want to and then delcare your misspelling actually CORRECT by creating your own NEW RULE about ENGLISH, you auto-win. She was a magical Russian Sponge of Tyra-Insanity Delight. Some of her best moments were in this episode. Tyra, p.s., is too much of a cunt to be a weirdo.
There's just so much to learn about turning a negative into a positive from Natasha, like next time girls talk shit behind your back, just think: "This girls, they are very, very into my behavior. Every move I do, they watch me."
8. Haviland
You guys, Haviland is a total weirdo. She may seem normal, and I go to great lengths to enhance this illusion, but she's a total weirdo. E.g., she emailed us last week to announce the arrival of her new white bikini. What's funny is probs 500 people reading this right now are like "I wish I'd gotten that email." No but really, she is, just trust me. Obvs in the best way ever, etc. Like what makes Haviland's weirdohood work so well is that though I am a much bigger weirdo, it's in a totally different way. Like, I've got a lot of weirdo things in common with many of my closest friends, but Haviland's weirdo things always surprise and amuse and compel me. And for that, and many other things, I love hpsdiva.
FourFour, who reaps America's Next Top Model and is linked above (re: Natasha) does "pretty parties" at the end of each recap, it's a screencap fiesta. So I did a Weirdo Party for Haviland.
7. Amy Sedaris
Amy is my favorite weirdo. She is the funniest weirdo living right now, I just cannot get over how effin fantastic she is especially with cheeseballs. Just read this brill interview of her in The Believer, she even gets all profound at the end. She's what I aspire to be -- gutsy, totally un self-conscious, genuine, and truly dedicated to laughter above all else. Also, her brother David is pretty fucking awesome, even if his last two books seemed underwhelming, nothing's ever made me LOL so much as Naked. He tells funny weirdo stories about her.
6. These Randomized Girls on OurChart:
my ourchart
Once upon a time, Carly and I both had girlfriends and then around the same time we both didn't, and we weren't feeling so hot. And ... as we all know, the best place to find new love is on OurChart, so we went looking. And by that I mean we weren't looking for love on OurChart, we just thought it'd be funny to stay up all night on i-chat making fun of local OurChart ladies. If you're one of the few we chose to pay attention to and you're randomly reading this blog -- first of all, congrats on your newfound mastery of the English language -- I'd apologize but srsly I'm helping you out here, you need to fix your profile or you are never going to have sex with Jennifer Beals, sorz. Neither am I, like I'm a totes lost cause, but I want you to be happpyyyy like unicorns. As much as I'd like to, I'm not linking to the actual profiles we discussed 'cause I'm fundamentally, I think, a good person, most of the time. Except like, not right now for a minute. I mean, my profile's also retarded. OK, it's not as retarded as the girls we're talking about.
OH FYI 'People from history you'd like to have at a dinner party" is on the list of things you need to say about yourself. I said Strunk & White and Dana Fairbanks, obvs, and Tara looked up Dana Fairbanks thinking she must be some feminist author or something, and then found out the truth.
Anyhow, here we are talking about these weirdos. We probs went through about 20 profiles. Each convo is generally about a different person.
Carly: : SHE DOESNT PUT SPACES AFTER COMMAS Me: I KNOW! And her dinner party is gonna be CAH-RAZY * Me: Also there's that photo of her ass. That could also not be her ass Carly: I want to venture out on a limb here and say that it's not Me: What are the 'southern continents' she wants to travel to exactly? Southern continents are like, Australia? I'm so confused by her. Carly: Southern continents? like, the South Pole region? Me: Everything about her is confusing. How did she get this far in life without learning how to spell? Carly: Which one is south? antarctica or the arctic? Me: Um, I know not what she speaks of. Carly: I don't know. but i would like to visit it. Me: I mean, that ass a damn southern continent if I ever saw one. * Carly: Ok, now this one... I'm sure she's nice, and there's a possibility she could be marginally attractive? (maybe, I'm being nice) but is that really the best photo you had? Really? Me: I like that for music she just lists Rock and R & b "Rock." right. ROCK! ... DUDE: "Story of real murders life instreats me ..."I would love to go to scoutland. It looks really butiful and i would love to see it." Carly: hahahaha. Scoutland huh? That sounds fun! Me: It actually does! A bunch of scouts?! * Carly: "Hi, my tagline isn't grammatically correct." Me: AASHADHHHFHASFH is all I have to say about "your." Carly: That specific grammatical issue is listed on my myspace as a serious dislike. * Me: I like how she writes "lets see..." before her list of movies ... like she's thinking as she writes "hmm ... EVERYLESBIANMOVIEEVER" Carly: Aw this poor girl's tagline is "where are all the smart girls?" ... um ... NOT ON OURCHART. Me: haha Carly: Which, hm, we're on ourchart ... BUT that's cause you're a guestbian and im a masochist. Me: ... Haviland's on it. And Tara and Lainy. And Ilene Chaiken is on it! Carly: Fuck Ilene Chaiken. fuck her right in the ear. Me: guestbian=masochist * [sidenote: We know everyone's on OurChart, or like, most lesbians are. Wanna know why? Well ... why not? Totes we are all on OurChart, I heart OurChart, the Chart That is Ours. I should write another Guestbian column, any ideas?] * Carly: Nice photo, brooooo Me: Dude, I bet she fucks girls with that hair Carly: .. and grammar errors Me: I mean literally * Me: Yikes American History X is her first fave movie. TROUBLED TEEN ... "Snowboarding!!!" Why does that get so many extra exclamation points? * Carly: WHAT DOES THAT TAG LINE EVEN MEAN? Me: It means: "I am retarded." ... "and probs a cunt." Carly: hey whut up yo broz" ... "hay shawty" Me: Actually: "What is going on, young ladies? It is --" ... ... I give up. Carly: I'm crying Me: Dude -- "Not afraid to argue wit me. have a screaming match" Carly: Read: "i will punch you out, sucka" Me: she's like "I will throw my Mom's best vase that she won at Atlantic City right at your head, bitch" * Carly: This girl just added me. Me: "Gypsy, tramp, theif" Carly: OMG IT'S SHANE. Me: DUDE, you found shane! ... She likes The Tudors. Carly: ew. * Me: Dude, I think dominiqueoxoxousousad is a porn star. I mean seriously? her favorite movies? ... She doesn't speak english. Carly: I know right. * Carly: Magazines: "maxium" Me: MAXIUM? You're spelling a retarded magazine WRONG? Carly: This girl kinda looks like my friend Stef except my friend Stef is way hotter Me: Whwatt/??!? Carly: Also she likes Slipknot and is a republican? * Carly: No I've got your porn star right here: [link] Me: dominiquexo might be fun to sleep with if you were like, 18 and had just come out. Carly: Yeah Me: But she'd probably keep calling ... * Me: omg i feel dirty already looking at this new one Carly: I think not, re: tagline. Me: Is that the demonstration? on her pic? Carly: hahahahahaha Me: ... of how she'll have me cumming? Carly: in her bathroom, it would seem Me: seriously her name is NOT Aska Lala ... because that is MY NAME ...starting now. Carly: her name is Asdf Jkl; ... (home row, what what!) Me: holla * Me: Wait did you link me to the horse stable girl? Carly: I think so Me: Awww she likes Jewish girls. And poetry! ..occupation "horse stable worker" ...sketchy ... I changed mine to "crack dealer." ... which isn't sketchy at all. * Carly: This one is my favorite: Me: Oh gross i'm gonna barf. Seriously Wayne. ..."Strength in body and mind someone like my father.... stand up or me fight for me but gentle enough to cry with at night when I am araid" ... I'm araid too of your spelling of the word "afraid." eirdo. ... this is GENIUS: "I am very eclectic from movies to walks in the park to hanging in the city with friends,having coffe in abook store reading for hours to Bdsm" ... how she just busts out with BDSM at the end?! ... and then aAGAIN as a guilty pleasure? Carly: I seriously cant breathe I'm laughing so hard ... Me: like she's trying to slip it in like no one will notice ... like they'll read it and then afterwards be like "wait...did she say... that she likes it rough?" * Carly: Marilyn is self employed. I think you'll see why. * Me: Wow also though like "isolated lesbian looking for a new life online" um ... therapy? ...Jesus. Carly: Seriously. Me: Tanya, get your shit together! Carly: No ourchart is therapy. Me: Good point ... at least she uses complete sentences ..."my favorite movie is..." * Me: Everyone on ourchart is retarded! Carly: This girl is ready to fuck shit up ... she thought that picture would help her get pussy ...also, she's a nurse? ...really? Me: I know she's totally talking in the Gwen voice "Come over and I'll stick these UP YOUR VAGINA" Carly: TFLLL ... "hi my name is gwen" * Carly: Also except does not = accept. Me: Um ... occupation ... please look right now ...and tell me what you think about her struggles ... and where they could be coming from. Carly: Maybe she's a "struggeling writer" too Me: Probs Carly: She's INVOLVED? lord. Me: She's so mysterious about her personality, and so revealing about her pores Carly: Ok we've exhausted NJ ... damn, that was incredible. Me: Whew. * Carly: [link] omg, i am in love ... guilty pleasures: SEX. ...HOTTT. Me: do you think that after having sex, she'll leave her shirt? ...she lives EVERYWHERE? Carly: she is OMNIPRESENT ... I should change my profile to include only responses that would be made by Trudy Weigel on Reno 911. interests: cats. collecting thimbles. spooning. Me: Totally ... you might attract a lot of weirdos Carly: True. Me: Just warning you. Carly: Which is why I'm not. Going to do that. Me: I'm gonna attract a lot of people who like crack. The drug. Carly: I'm only a masochist to a certain degree. Me: Yes. I think we all are. "We all" = me.
5. The Entire Cast of A Shot at Love With Tila Tequilla, except Dani, and Tila, who's too boring to be weird
The clips show really spelled it all out for me. V. helpful, especially considering I've been speaking about this show w/o actually watching it for a majority of the season. That country boy didn't know anyone's name, Vanessa was drunk drunk drunk the whole time, everyone wrestled in vats of chocolate pudding AND it turns out that Amanda's a victim of the EXACT plague that's always prevented me from pursuing a career in reality television (yes, the only thing, the one and only thing, otherwise I'd be amazingly racing the bachelorette all over temptation fucking island to become the top chef for a real housewife of orange county once we stop being polite and start getting real). Amanda was just being sarcastic, y'all! When you listen to her talk for a while, you realise she's just making fun of the dumb blonde thing, but they cut out all the stuff that may've made you realise what a genuine person she was. No lie. Totes love Amanda. She's no Dani, but she's a funny lady.
4. These Guys (Alex/Semicolon, Riese, Haviland, Stef, the spirit of Cait)
3. Jenny Schecter
Oh, Jenny. In Season One, when the writing was good, you were a resolutely unlikeable person. You played the bi card all wrong and broke hearts like they were cheap mugs filled with cheap merlot you'd accidentally knocked over on your way to the Chunky Monkey. You were every writer's worst nightmare: you thoroughly mined your past and its accordant pains and tragedies -- your rape, your simple sadness and isolation, your state of being: a lonely little lez in the Midwest (On "The L Word," the proverbial lonely Midwestern Lez is often exploited for Her Full Lonely Potential)-- for moments of carnival clarity ... and ended up wringing real emotion dry in favor cheap sentimental angry gut-pouring memoir sold as fiction which by Season Four was pissing everyone off. You'd written about your friends, lacking even the ability to mask their named adaquetly. And you could've fought back normally, as your prior character suggested, by being all whacky and neurotic and shit (while the equally insane lesbians go tsk tsk Jenny), but instead! Instead! In Season Four, you just got abso-fucking-lutely awesome. You killed a dog to get to the girlfriend of the girl who gave you a bad book review in Curve magazine. I mean that is pretty effin awesome. Also, I met her! Stacey Merkin. She's totally rad. Jenny's lines of brilliance were so beautiful, they became Moments.
This is Jenny sitting happily with her choice to turn More Girls into a musical. With the Ditty Bops! I hope they get Amy Ray and Emily Saliers in on this gig.
"The thing is that the vagina's girlfriend was molested and now she's like this perfect saint, which is just like, awesome, and I was abused and I'm like this fucked up nitwit, but that was my experience, and that's mine and I don't know why she's slamming my own experience though!" (Jenny)
2. TB
When Tara was TB (a.k.a. manic), she'd concoct the strangest dinners of all time. When I cooked for us I'd make a bunch of food, scoop my portion onto my plate and then return to the pan, dump a bunch of hot sauce on the rest of it, mix it up, and dump that on her plate. Similar to the process I used when cooking for my ex-boyfriend who needed to melt American cheese on everything. (What's crazier? You decide.)
She just needed everything spicy, everything illuminated in the chili-pepper/star/red blaring type they use on Chinese take-out menus to warn you what you're getting into: what your mouth's just signed up for. You know, the footnote1 they put on the menus: VERY HOT. Like ... life was on overdrive & pumped up, hypo-manic thought patterns setting brain on fire, and thus, also the tongue, too, needed to be on fire. It needed half a jar of crushed red pepper flakes, needed salt&pepper&basil&oregano&garlic salt and several generous dollups of Tabasco & hot sauce. It needed scrambled eggs with spinach and onions and asparagus and tomatoes and mushrooms and garlic cloves and chives and terriyaki sauce and soy sauce and sesame oil and olive oil. 3 A.M., Macbethish over the stove, and I'd be laughing (you have to sometimes, you have to), "Oh my GOD I can't believe you're actually going to eat that, that looks like an accident ... your stomach can seriously handle anything," and she'd laugh (you have to) "My stomach hates me." I'd say: "No, your liver, your liver hates you more." The best part was how she didn't want to waste any food so she'd fully wrap it up and totally have it for breakfast the next day, but this time, with even MORE tabasco sauce. This time with actual chili peppers.
I've always lived in apartments with gas stoves -- that click-click-click and then blue then whoosh then fire -- but my Mom's old house had an electric stove, and I never learned, really, a better way to test the presence of lingering heat besides sticking my hand right on the burner, like my brain continually forgot to give the big N-O to that thought before I'd already turned it into action. Mom started putting pot lids over the burners while they cooled 'cause I had such issues burning off my fingerprints, walking into the living room with held-up hand and requisite perfect round white blisters instead of fingerprints. but I did it so much that it eventually stopped hurting. (This came in handy at the Mac-Grill when I expo'ed 5,000 degree plates of lasanga w/o getting burned). I don't like electric stoves. I like things that cool down faster.
That last paragraph is unrelated. Sorta. Whatevs. Anyhow that tangent -- or rather, the existence of that tangent -- segues nicely into my next point ... (oh also, that painting there is from this girl erika somogyi)
1. Me
Hands down totes the biggest weirdest weirdo of the year: ME. Most readers who've met me in real life say I'm not as crazy as I make myself sound on here. I think that's 'cause I usually write alone -- or if there's someone here, it's generally someone I know pretty well -- so I let myself go WILD on the page, like a TIGER. Also because I try to seem normal around normal people. It's funny, and I guess this relates to a way a lot of people relate to me (like you, all y'all) -- how easy it is to enable one another's neurosis or insanity, emotion, intelligence, creativity, caring, compassion, emotion ... how contagious behavior of all kinds can be sometimes ... how much we start to talk or think or write or eat or drink or act like whomever's around us or whomever's set up residence in our hearts or psyches, which sometimes look like the same organs. I say I'm ME, I say I'm like, my own totes randomized weirdo, but the truth is, I'm just randomized. Which is fine. Seriously. It totally is.
1: Stars, "Your Ex-Lover is Dead," from the album "Set Yourself on Fire." The lyrics of this song include the opening: "When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire," as well as the following lines: "the scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin," and "live through this and you won't look back." The album's title song, "Set Yourself on Fire," includes the lyrics: "In the darkest part of you that you have ever seen, in the smile of the child staring at the TV screen, in the diary of a priest, in the sheets that lie upon his bed, out there amongst the waves and inside your lover's head, there is only one thing. There is only one thing. There is only one thing. There is only one thing. There is only one thing." According to last-fm, I listened "Your Ex-Lover is Dead" 116 times in August.
I think someone is grilling cheeseburgers outside my window. Apparently I live next door to a former methadone clinic (How do I know these things? Well, 2007 has been a very educational year, perhaps I'll be Reviewing it soon!), maybe they have cookouts now instead of methadone, 'cause I feel like it often smells like cheeseburgers around here. Good cheeseburgers though, not like, crap ones. Maybe only Sundays, maybe it's got something to do with Church and therefore with Jesus, I should join the Church. I just need a colorful hat like the black ladies wear.
So anyhow, today's Sunday Top Ten begins my long look back at '07, otherwise known as "The Worst Year EVER," which means looking back is a lot like poking a spork into my eyeballs. JK, obvs I love re-living trauma, it's my hobby basically. I'm not even kidding, CLEARLY IT IS, hello, I have a blog. Anyhow, it wasn't the worst year ever, I've grown and changed so much this year, I love everyone and everything. There are so many more of you than there were then: this can not be dismissed, this is not everything but it is a lot of things.
So, December is a time for you to ask: Riese, what's on YOUR mind? What are YOU thinking? Let's talk about YOU. You know? Except I'm saying it to myself so it's like: meememememememe. That's the secret code word I use to let you know that I'm aware I talk about myself all the time. Like, I've already talked about myself once, so why don't I talk about myself talking about myself, that's like, post-hipster-blogstar-metatastic.
Let's address that last one right now. I said it then, and I'll say it again because I want to: I read a lot, but hardcovers are expensive and heavy, therefore I rarely read them and thus rarely have an opinion on the Best Books of the Year though people expect me to. I never read new releases. If I'm gonna read a new book, it's gotta be either in first-edition paperback or acquired for free (publisher's proofs, etc.) or at a used bookstore. Therefore I'm remarkably unqualified to rank and order books. Like; last year my list included two books I'd actually read, the rest just looked good.
So I thought, well, I'll just expand the category to include all forms of entertainment released this year (except music, I'll leave that to the experts, besides, y'all know it's Tegan & Sara, obvs. And Uh Huh Her), unfortunately, I haven't been to a single movie in all of 2007 and I rarely watch teevee. Seriously, every time I watch teevee, I write about it. It's a 1:1 ratio. If I've watched a show, you've been the first to know.
It's been pointed out to me that my life this year has been a bit cinematic. I mean, who needs movies or a hardcover when you've got your own live-action film playing out right before your eyes? That's right: you don't. So I present what was supposed to be the Top Ten Entertainments of 2007 and ended up being a list of pretty much every single item of actual "entertainment" I've engaged in all year.
DUE TO MY BARELY PARTIAL PARTICIPATION IN THE NEW RELEASES OF THE YEAR OF 2007, I PRESENT THE ONLY 10 ENTERTAINMENTS OF 2007 WHICH WERE ALSO PUBLISHED/RELEASED IN 2007
Magazines: 10.The Atlantic Monthly's 150th Anniversary Issue: Not only did this inspire me to give up multitasking for about a minute -- seriously, multitasking as I speak -- but its little blurbs about "The American Idea" warmed me all the way through my thick skin and straight to my gut. I transcribed my favorite in Auto-Universe.
9. Almost every single issue of New York Magazine, Esquire, Radar, Bust, Bitch, Women's Health & Fitness, Missbehave, Nylon, Good, The Advocate, Paper, Elle, Curve, Teen Vogue HOLLA, Poets & Writers, Jane (til it went under) and Glamour. Also obvs there was this really good article in the August issue of Marie Claire written by MEEEEE about my sweating disorder. Okay, I'm not gonna lie, I buy that magazine every month.
8. Hey! Speaking of magazines. A;ex and I went to the GO-NYC Magazine 5th Anniversary Party (their photos here), which was essentially a series of lines: to get in, to check your coat, to get a drink, to get another drink, to get another drink (eventually obvs just got a double), to get your coat back (that was the worst line of all the lines). The Lesbian to Bartender ratio was about 500:1. I told Stef it was a good thing she didn't go, as her rockstar-event-coordination experience would've likely led to a head explosion at this particular party, and she noted that "lesbians can't organize themselves a glass of WATER," quickly followed by "i just wanted an excuse to use that expression."
Anyhow, I still heart Leisha Hailey even though I didn't get a chance to tell her I'm sorry about Dana. Dani looks exactly in person how she does on teevee except more endearing. I feel like she's single and the world is her lesbian oyster, go get her ladies. Everyone, including us miraculously (see line-waiting paragraph, above), was drunkity drunk drunk or tripping on something, esp. Guinevere Turner. Rose Troche and Guinevere reminded me of how Haviland and I are gonna be in ten years. I'll be the one telling a drunk story about getting dumped for Leisha Hailey, and Haviland'll be going "Riese, Riese," like trying to make me shut up 'cause we're in public and I'll be quoted. Also, there's something strangely sexy about Rose Troche, I can't put my finger on it (or CAN I?), I think it's 'cause she's so talented and prolific. They said they're talking about a sequel to Go Fish, that more or less sounds like the worst movie ever. They should call it Go Fish 2: Back in Group Therapy. Maybe they were just kidding. I couldn't tell. You know how women are.
You guys, also, Dani is defo not currently involved with Tila Tequila. Howevs, I still think she might win on Tuesday. I still heart everyone and we had a good time. Goooooo GO! Oh also, "It's a Small World" Story Number 500; A;ex ran into some friends of hers who were there with their friend who is a commenter on my blog/now person-I-know-through-my-blog. Crazy, yeah? We all hung out, go GO! Oh, I said that already. Moving on. * Movies: 7. Wanna know something brill? I figured I could think of a good DVD at least, something I got on demand ... but 2007 was Totes THE YEAR OF NO MOVIES ANYWHERE -- no movies in the theater, and no movies at home either! I have no clue how this happened, I probs have watched an average of 50-100 movies a year in every single year but this one. I used to watch at least a movie a day. Seriously. I guess I was sort of living my own version of Girl, Interrupted/A Beautiful Mind/Man of La Mancha for a good chunk of the summer, so whatevs. Fuck! What a weird-ass year, seriously, the only narrative films I saw this year were Art School Confidential ('cause Shane was in it) and this 9-11 movie that was on teevee when I was sick with food poisoning. I did watch a few docs: An Inconvenient Truth, Jesus Camp, The Devil's Playground, Gay Republicans, This Film is Not Yet Rated, When the Levees Broke.
Sicko looked good, I'd recommend it, I should see it. Thanks for the recommendation, Riese. Um, what movies came out this year? That movie about the girl from Grey's Anatomy getting preggers? Any gay movies? Are you my mother? Where's your head at? I wonder what it's like in there, that big cavernous theater. Movie magic. Hoo-ha. If you're just turning in, here's an update: the last movie I saw was Dreamgirls, it was the best movie ever so I knew I never had to go back to the movies again.
Theater: 7a. HOWEVER I've been to the theater, more than once even! I saw Spring Awakening (twice)! And Les Miserobvs ('cause Hav was doing Fantine)! Also Heather conned me into Naked Boys Singing!, which made Natalie and Annie and me drink heavily and giggle uncontrollably. The same thing happened at Les Mis actually. I saw some bad plays too. Won't go into that.
That photo is Haviland in her Factory Girl costume. Hard core, totes.
* The World Wide Webbernet: 6. Regularly Updated (at least 2-3 times/week most of the year) Blogs That Made me LOL consistently: Why Don't We Get Drunk and Blog? and FourFour It's rare that writing (aside from my friends' emails) makes me literally LOL. Like every time it happens I note it to myself: "Riese, you just LOL'ed!" So yeah, one gay and one straight man inspired me to think, over and over again, consistently, all year long with triweekly posts are more and think "holy shit, that is hilarious, and I never would've thought of that": Lozo and FourFour. And for that I am grateful. Mazel Tov. (Sidenote: Totes aware there's plenty of funny blogs I'd probs LMAO or even ROFL to, but I've only got so much time, already maxed out, thus the short number on this list. Sometimes I'm scared like I can't find another good blog, I've got so much reading to do already!)
5. The following websites have endeared themselves to me over the course of this year, in which I became 75% human, 25% cyborg: Arts & Letters Daily, bartleby, Google Reader OBVS, facebook, poets.org, new pages, bookslut, mediabistro, feministing, and the endlessly fascinating Sitemeter. All the items I've ever tried to make you read on Google Reader are here: My Shared Items Blog. Then also there's the Auto-Universe Archive of all the things I've tried to force you to read via link. I think I spend way more time reading stuff on the internet than I realised until just this moment. I guess it's that there's still so much left I haven't read. It never ends, like, your perfect blog could be out there still.
Google Reader offers trends. They've just offered me supreme wisdom, and this is it: I'm apparently super-good at reading my friends' blogs, and I read way more blogs on Tuesdays and Fridays than any other day of the week. * TeeVee: 4. Sugar Rush: It took me about four months to take up the suggestion that I watch Sugar Rush, and I've still only seen about half the episodes, and by "episodes" I mean the lesbian storyline, perfectly edited for my viewing pleasure by this girl on YouTube who's account is now suspended, dammit. At this pace, I'll be checking out Quarterlife by March '08, never fear Elizabeth. Watch Sugar Rush (WARNING: that link goes to a later episode, I just can't find any links now that the girl's lost her account, but that'll give you an idea I guess), you just may want to pinch Kim's cute little cheeks. She's a total critter. And it doesn't take itself too seriously, I think. Plus, Sugar goes to prison, because apparently that's what women do in the UK, maybe it is illegal to be a lesbian there.
3.The L Word obvs! Best show ever, clearly. So dynamic, so well-written. The characters just crawl inside you and take up residence. No honestly; I think the online community's enhanced this show, for me and for everyone, and it has its moments, like the basketball scene and the episode where everyone fucked. I've never watched it alone since Season One, and I don't think I ever could: to me, it's inherently part of a larger narrative, the one about the way we actually live, which apparently, for me at least, involves meticulously tracking sexual encounters and making fun of deaf people. Also, South of Nowhere, great show. Spencer: such a critter.
2. Like With Most Entertainments, I do 95% of my teevee watching at the gym, where the best channels are MTV and Bravo, then there's basic network channels ... which means I see a lot of America's Next Top Model, Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List, and The View before Rosie quit. At home, I've also enjoyed, from time to time, The Office, Degrassi: The Next Generation and the best show ever A Shot at Love With Tila Tequila. Actually, even Tila I've watched all of at the gym in re-runs the next day. Oh! And Carly lent me the entire series of Arrested Development on DVD, which is funny, two thumbs up. 2007 is almost over and I'm nearly done with Season Three.
I watched Gossip Girl with semi-obsessive interest until they introduced "Vanessa." I accepted many things about this show that bore no resemblance to the books I so dearly loved, but Vanessa was supposed to be a quasi-lesbian with Doc Martens and a shaved head. WTF?! This new Vanessa looks like a Saved by the Bell extra from 1992, and has none of the original Vanessa's quirkiness or overall cool. The real Vanessa is like the girl who dated Macauly Culkin in Saved! Sigh. * Books: 1. OK, so, Books I Did Read This Year, In Chronological Order: The Revolution Will Be Accessorized: BlackBook Presents Dispatches from the New Counterculture (various), 20Something Essays by Twentysomething Writers (various), The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold), Everything Else in the World (Stephen Dunn), Bitchfest (various), Name All The Animals (Ali Smith), Area Code 212 (Tama Janowitz), Indestructible (Cristy Road), The Book of Genesis, Exodus, John, Daniel, Revelations (by G-d or his minions or whatevs), Girlbomb (Janice Earlbaum), The Mistresses' Daughter (A.M. Homes), The Glass Castle (Jeanette Walls), The Collected Poems of Rilke (Rilke, obvs), Naked on the Internet (Audacia Ray), The Bigger The Better the Tighter the Sweater (ed. by Samantha Schoech & Lisa Taggart), So Much to Tell You (John Marsden), Nobody Belongs Here More Than You (Miranda July), Lucky (Alice Sebold), The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath), I Love You More Than You Know (Jonathan Ames), Microthrills (Wendy Spiro), The Whole Story and Other Stories (Ali Smith), Enormous Changes at the Last Minute, (Grace Paley), Running With Scissors (Augusten Burroughs), Come to Me (Amy Bloom) and will probs finish The Vintage Book of Contemporary American Short Stories (ed. by Tobias Wolff) by the end of the year.
And also, formidable efforts were made into the following: Don Quijote (Miguel De Cervantes) (222/773), The Art of Love (Ovid) (117/206), Empire of the Senseless (Kathy Acker, library has it now) and 1984 (about 75%).
In that photo, I'm saying: "Reading is fun, y'all!"
Of those, the only ones that were released this year are the book I was in and the book I spoke on a panel about. I have come to the conclusion that the internet has provided me with the illusion that I'm fairly caught up on the happenings of the year when in fact the only thing I'm actually caught up on is what people talk about on the internet. I'm skipping life and going straight to commentary on it. This year has been hands down totes the weirdest thing ever. I can barely even believe it, and I've seen some shit.
Do you guys read books? I think most of you do. But I'm not sure, maybe when I talk about books, y'all are like snoooozeeee when's she gonna talk about Haviland naked again? Here, I'm going to find out, please take this poll, thank you:
I hope you like books. I'm writing a book, seriously. That's become my running gag, like the chicken dance on Arrested Development, except unlike G.O.B., I can actually write a book. I just like, haven't put it all together yet. But I totally could. And like, will. If you wanna know what books I think you should read, you can go to my a-store. There, no excuses! Also Lozo, still want you to read that Jonathan Ames book, I hope you got it. Hm. Guess what? I just burned a hole in my dresser. But I put out the fire, don't worry. Remember that saying "love is friendship set on fire" or something? I always thought that was sort of stupid. It seems like, whatever you want to feel, someone's got a quote to validate you. A proverb, or something. Anyone know how dpis and ppis work? Like, if a magazine wanted a 300 dpi photo from me, do they really mean ppi? I need to figure this out.
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 wifemakeout 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.
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?
About a million/two years ago, Secret deodorant did an ad campaign -- prominently featured in an episode of America's Next Top Model: Cycle 5/Kim-- called "Share Your Secret," for which Secret encouraged perspiring odorized ladies all over the country to tell Procter & Gamble their most intimate secrets, like "Dad took me to get a tattoo" and "I failed my high school entrance exam." When ANTM shot Secret ads, two girls came up with the same secret ("I sleep with a nightlight" or "I'm afraid of the dark" or something equally retarded) and then got in a big fight over it, it was awesome, but not as awesome as Bree (who I loathe) sharing that she likes men's underwear. Who doesn't like men's underwear? That's dumb. Also not as awesome as Lisa's wino-osity. I loved Lisa like whoa. I think she loved me too. I thought of this Secret campaign earlier during the hour I set aside every day to think about Kim Stolz. JK. Like many semi-famous people I used to worship longingly from afar, I know people who know her now, so crushing on her isn't fun anymore because she's real, and anyone who's been outside and interacted with real people can tell you: real people are not nearly as lovely as fictional characters. Also Kim's grown up and grown out her hair, like we all do sooner or later or never. I mean, I'd still ride the hobby horse or whathaveyou with Kim, really, well, either sex or a conversation, ideally both. I don't remember her secret. Probably "I love Riese," which is also Lozo's secret.
Anyhow, I think I like their new graphic better than my graphic:
Anyhow, I'm going to finish the rest of the secrets today [disclaimer: maybe]. REFRESH REFRESH. You know, like light beer or a cold spring of water. Refreshing. Because I've got this deep burning desire to re-create Creative Writing 323 on my blog, I've given myself the new challenge of making all the stories for the last segment LOL funny, since Lozo felt so strongly about the previous installment's sadness factor that he commented on it twice (1. "this was the most depressing thing i have ever read. please stop," 2. "these posts really do make me sad. i'll let you keep that 20 bucks if you stop.") and emailed me sharing similar sentiments. Then he told me he loved me. Then I was like "I want a good debate and my commenters just kiss my butt." Hey: guess what Mirriam Webster -- "commenter" is a word now, just like "obvs." Stop telling me I'm spelling it wrong, you're annoying. [UPDATE: I'm not funny enough to make anything LOL funny except 'The L Word,' sorz. Not funny. Some are funny. I dunno.]
Anyone wanna know Haviland's secret? At night, she likes to curl up in her bed and watch episodes of "Private Practice" on her laptop because she's in la-la-la-love with Amy Brenneman. Coincidentally, my lesbian Mom is also in love with The Brenn. I don't know how to feel about that. Oh also, big news, I proposed to Haviland yesterday at the Time Warner Center, the most romantic spot in all of New York City. What's my secret? I like men's underwear. I'm wearing some right now. What's my secret? Because you're hot. "It takes a strong woman to share her secret," says Procter & Gamble. I'd be strong too, if I owned a giant corporation that exploited its outsourced employees and poked bunnies in the eye with mascara wands.
SUNDAY TOP "TEN": PART THREE OF FOUR
SECRETS SECRETS ARE TOTALLY FUN SECRETS SECRETS HURT NO-ONE
** 11. Heavy
In addition to hating her job (as mentioned in the last installment) writing for a publication who's visual design makes my head explode, Lindsay would like to add that she thinks her butt is huge. Not like, "buy-bigger-jeans huge," but huge enough that it's starting to give her a complex because she's too young to be fat. In 30 years? Maybe. Now?? No. * What's my secret? Though I know objectively that I looked scary-skinny/unwell/gross this summer when The Depression Diet (alcohol, toast and McDonald's chicken fingers) stole my appetite and ten pounds of my already naturally-skinny body, I totally loved every unprompted "Oh my God, are you eating? You look like death," I received, and felt that secretly, "you look like death" actually meant "You look AMAZING, I'm so jealous," even though I know it didn't. (JK, I still think it did.)
** 12. Walking With a Ghost
Paige meets a boy. He'll do. She thinks "I could spend the rest of my life with this boy." She's not expecting happiness, exactly, but something endurable that her parents will approve of, and they do. She thinks, specifically, that her and this boy could be happy like her parents were happy -- that kind of happiness that skates a thin sheet of contentment while the sharks of utter despair bark below the surface, that kind. "Not happiness."
They're together for what feels like forever but is actually only five years. Paige dates women on the side, including a few pretty serious relationships, but she doesn't come out to her family, because they're Catholics, and the coming-out-to-Catholic-parents scene has been historically proven to always go catastrophically poorly.
So she plays the bi card. That's a really tough card to play though, the boy's not really a fan, and so they decide to get engaged, which's sort of the opposite of what she actually wants to do, and she realises this soon enough, breaks it off, allegedly crushes his heart into a million small impossible to reconstruct pieces, goes on with her life, and then discovers she's hands down totes preggers, which is trouble.
She does the "retarded thing" and clues him in, he does the seemingly mature thing and agrees to stand behind her decision, whatever decision she makes. She chooses abortion, because we can do that in America, you know, pro-choice. Actually, we can't, because sometimes we can make a choice like "abortion," and then our asshole ex-boyfriend can drive to our place of employment, sit there for three hours until we emerge from the doors like any other night and then beat the shit out of us.
Back into third person: Paige's ex-boyfriend gets drunk, parks outside of her business for three hours until she gets there so he can beat the shit out of her for aborting "his child." She'd like to clarify that she was on the pill and never wanted to have children. She did everything she could and when science failed her she did what she had to do, and she never lied to him about having an abortion.
He broke her jaw. He broke her right eye socket. He broke her right arm in three places and gave her a severe concussion. 72 stitches.
When Paige regained enough consciousness to speak to the police, she told them she couldn't remember what'd happened. She could remember, of course, she'll never forget, of course, ever, of course, but she didn't want to deal with him anymore. He'd already told everyone what an asshole she was and left her enough nasty messages to make her want to jump off any number of bridges beyond what 72,000 stitches could ever put back together.
So she lives on. So he lives on. The anger haunts her. She can't go out without worrying about running into him or his friends. Everyone who's known her for more than a few years, which is most people, constantly brings him up. Those that know her well never bring him up.
She's not into regret. But this: this she regrets. She regrets not coming clean to the police when she had a chance to. She regrets that particular choice, and the ensuing possibility that she may never trust anyone ever again and that it won't be their fault, it will always be his.
* What's my secret? I'd totes go Thelma & Louise on his ass. I wish we still had vigilante justice, or that life was an Angela Robinson movie where we could all get together and imprison Paige's ex but I know and you know that'd be impossible to do in this country. That sucks, 'cause I think it's even worse in other countries. Ugh.
My BFF Natalie gets super-emotional during movies which tell personal stories containing underlying themes of social injustice (e.g., Bowling for Columbine), and when I was writing this story I remember sitting in the living room of our house at U-Mich after we saw Monster while Natalie cried about the social structures that enable women to get totally fucked/fucked/fucked and defenseless [Yes: I'm sharing a "privileged upper-middle-class/middle-class college-educated white women with strong backgrounds in Women's Studies cry about social injustice" memory] and one of our smokin' hot Kappa-Kappa-Gamma roommates came in and was like "What's going on? Is it [redacted boy with crooked penis]?" and Natalie was like "Oh, you know, the state of the world," and explained a little bit about women's rights and what happens when women try to stand up for themselves and the girl looked at us like we were on crack, she was like "You can't do anything about that Natalie, don't worry so much," and then Natalie was like "waaaa," and picked her fingers to bits which is what she does when she gets anxious, and I think the funny thing is that if Natalie'd said it was about [redacted boy with crooked penis] the girl would've probs sat down with her (fat-free) ice cream and doled out 1-2 hours of advice. What's my secret? There's no point to this paragraph, I'll probs erase it later because it probably only makes sense to me why it's relevant or related [I'm not comparing anyone to Monster, for one thing], like most things that only make sense to me. *
** 13. You Went Away
Logan just got fired. Perhaps you already know this.
Also -- and this is related, trust me -- he can't talk about the fact that he gave Michael a second chance and got fucked over again and now he's back where he started from, which's no-confidence, no-anything, left simply with the bad aftertaste of getting fucked. In the heat of the fucking moment, he consciously paraphrased Samantha Jones: "Fuck me over once, shame on you, fuck me over twice, shame on me." If Micheal came back Logan knows he'd give him a third chance which makes him even more miserable because he already knows how horrible it'd be.
[What's my secret? This is a real place: that place where you know you're going to get fucked but you do it anyway. It's not that you want to get fucked again, it's that we all believe, somewhere, whether we admit it or not, that we don't really think we'll get fucked again, and the reason we think this is totally innocent and logical -- because it hasn't happened yet, that's just like, the definition of "how time works," and therefore -- like all things that haven't happened yet -- absolutely everything remains possible. Certainly if people surprise us by being more horrible than we expected (see #12), it is possible that people can also surprise us by being more wonderful than we expected? Yes?]
This is how getting fucked by Michael is related to getting fucked by his job and to fucking in general: the Senior vice president of Logan's firm wanted to fuck Michael and so he fucked Logan over because Logan was in his fuckin' way. Logan's friendship/relationship/whatever it was made the Senior VP peg Logan as the enemy and get Logan fired because he could no longer get to Michael.
Micheal is safe in a corporate position, making thousands more fucking dollars than Logan did, being treated to $700 corporate dinners and never [Logan thinks] once fucking thinking about Logan, who is emotionally eviscerated.
But he'll be fine. You know, like that Phoenix & the ashes thing. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, whatever fucks you makes you stronger, karma's a fucking bitch, the two colleagues that helped get Logan fired can eat their expensive dinners and Logan can sit on top of every fucking bad thing that happened in 2007 and figure out how to return in strength and brilliance, because, ultimately, he's gotta prove to you [Michael] and to everyone [everyone] that they are wrong.
And I think he can. Sidenote: is 2007 over yet, for Chrissake?
14. Living Room
[The above picture was submitted with the secret. It will totally become a part of the Auto-Winners Facebook Group Photo Album one of these days, because there are so many things about it that I love. But mostly the "delightfully butch" moniker.]
Once upon a time, Uta and her girlfriend had an open relationship with her girlfriend's ex and his wife. For about three years they did this thing where they'd get drunk (or not), go dancing (or something like it), and, more often than not, end up naked and fucking. Sometimes, in lieu of said drinking and dancing, they'd make dinner naked and end up on the kitchen floor, still naked, or sometimes in the living room (naked) , the guest room (naked), the bedroom (naked) or the pool in the backyard. (naked)
Or: in the bathroom at the bars.
This group of lovers were friends, really, more than anything, and remained so even near the end of all this when the sex became more sporadic.
They'd hang out with Uta's ex's ex's wife's family sometimes, too, and as time goes on, Uta starts falling in love with her ex's sister and becomes consequently less interested in her girlfriend, her girlfriend's ex or his wife. All her love has narrowed and focused on the wife's sister, and though she continues on with her girlfriend, she starts dating the sister. Everyone knows.
Uta's girlfriend decides she doesn't want to be with her ex's wife's sister anymore and so Uta and her girlfriend break up and Uta starts dating her ex's wife sister who is now her girlfriend.
It's been two years and she's happier now than she's ever been. She's living with her new girlfriend and although family gatherings can be awkward because although she gets along with her ex (who's still friends with her ex and his wife), her ex's ex and the wife won't talk to Uta.
What's Uta's secret? She still misses the drunken orgies and she still misses the sober orgies sometimes. She misses the ex's ex because he's the only man she's ever had feelings for and she misses his friendship and often his penis but mostly his friendship, and although she knows she should feel bad that her ex's ex's ex-wife hates her now, she actually doesn't care because her present girlfriend is the best thing that's ever happened to her and, well, ...
... let me put this in Uta's words, now? "My present partner has brought me more good, more light, and more happiness than most people ever get to know."
** 15. Hype
Jodi's always been the "smart one" in her family. She's got all kinds of poisonous pride and vanity and it puts up walls preventing her from ever coming clean about her small but important "failures." In fact: the closer she is to someone, the farther they are from her truths.
Soooo ... Jodi flunked out of college, which, sidenote, was probably more fun and involved more drinking/making out than passing college, so big up to Jodi. Howevs, no one knows this but the administrative people who filled out the forms that processed and sealed her flunkage, maybe a lecturer or two and the counselor Jodi went to to have a private breakdown about the situation. Her friends just think she's taking a slacker courseload and her parents think she's just finished her last set of exams and will be graduating in May. Actually, different friends know different stories (depending on degrees of closeness).
She's spent the last year weaving and molding a web of lies so intricate and overwhelming that it's likely far more complicated/challenging than any thesis or exam could've been. She lives in a big city but it's a small world and people talk and so she's pretty sure it's only a matter of time before someone who knows one truth meets someone knowing another truth and then all the lies will totally explode into one big full crash and subsequent exposure.
In two weeks she'll be home for "break," at which point she'll tell her parents she won't be graduating because *cough* she failed a paper.
If I was still trying to make these stories LOL-funny, I would add something here about my advice, which would include bringing Tyra Banks/Keith Ablow and a camera crew along with you to break the news, or totally disappearing from the planet for about a week so that by the time you get home they're like "OMG we are so glad that you're still alive!" that they don't care what you flunked out of, they're just like, happy to see your beautiful face?
Because really everyone should do what they want to do in life and no one should make you feel like a failure because also. also. also. A college degree won't help you get a job, really. I know of two people offhand without college degrees who make a lot o' money, and neither of them are in porn, I swear. We get second chances and third chances and fourth too. You know? Once i dropped out of college and moved to NYC and got a job at the Olive Garden and now I'm here writing this, that should be really super inspirational to everyone who ever aspired to um, be a weirdo. Right-o.
If I wasn't, which I'm not, I'd say this: That knot in her stomach, which has now evolved to a genuine Pit, and then practically a living breathing bundle of complete on-the-verge-of-vomiting ("vom," as Haviland would say) eternal nausea, is set to explode when she sees the disappointed look in her Dad's eyes. Or before.
We'll talk about it on Monday September 22nd, 'cause Allie says talking about literature isn't fun on the weekends, but seems (relatively) fun when confronted with the slings and arrows of ordinary work on Monday morning. Does that work for everyone? I hope so, 'cause you know how RuPaul feels about working. [see photo, left]
Speaking of being a senior citizen, Natalie and I caught the early bird special 4:30 show of "Bedbugs" at the New York Musical Theater Festival Wednesday afternoon, starring Alex Vega on drums and a bunch of actors and actresses playing all the other non-drum-related parts, e.g., singing the songs, performing lines, dancing. It's like an 80's glam rock musical green glittery homosexy spectacular of synthy poppy loveliness. Go see it.
10.
Dani looks exactly in person how she does on teevee except more endearing. I feel like she's single and the world is her lesbian oyster, go get her ladies. Everyone, including us miraculously (see line-waiting paragraph, above), was drunkity drunk drunk or tripping on something, esp. Guinevere Turner. Rose Troche and Guinevere reminded me of 
Nobody Belongs Here More Than You (Miranda July), Lucky (Alice Sebold), The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath), I Love You More Than You Know (Jonathan Ames), Microthrills (Wendy Spiro), The Whole Story and Other Stories (Ali Smith), Enormous Changes at the Last Minute, (Grace Paley), 
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.
VERY IMPORTANT PERSONS: As I said, we were in the VIP area. Guess who else was there? 
d 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.
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.
