if you ask me, one shouldn’t look at things as “signs” of something else. it just gets very confusing, and more times than not, you end up losing sight of the big picture.
last night joe and i were having a… discussion about the fact that he is thinking he might want to move back to portland sooner than he thought after being done with school. i always said i could go there for a few years, but not forever because a) i love l.a. b) bad weather depresses me REALLY bad, and c) i am beyond close to my family. right now i am really loving my work, also, which is new for me and i am hoping to build a foundation from that.
the idea of not being with joe in the end hadn’t really crossed my mind,so the conversation really shook me.
when i got home, my mom told me my uncle had a seizure and we rushed to the hospital to be with him, my aunt, and my cousins. i took this immediately as a sign that i can never leave. i couldn’t even imagine being so far away at times like this, when my family does what it does best and rallies around each other for comfort and strength.
then, i thought of my aunt and uncle and how they are one of the very few couples i know who i truly admire. their marriage just really seems to work and after all these years they love each other so much. one would be incredibly lucky these days to find that in their lifetime, and if i truly feel i have found it, which i do, i would be a fool not to hold onto it for dear life, to go to the ends of the earth for it. could this be a sign?
truthfully, all i care about now, having just gotten home from the hospital, is that it seems my uncle is making a full recovery from the incident last night, and all i hope for is that the following tests show that he is out of harm’s way.
but it does have me thinking. i’ve looked for love everywhere my entire life, hoped for it, prayed and wished for it. in searching for a sign, i always forget to see the path in front of me. this time i don’t know where it’s going to lead, but i do know that i don’t have to choose which kind of love i want, or hold it down in place. it won’t go away. it won’t disappear as long as i nurture it from within and point it in the right directions, i know this.
if you ask me, building a relationship can be like working with clay. i know it’s a bit cliché, but it’s just true.
in the beginning, you hold it in your hands and it just feels so good. it is unusual, slippery, wet, gritty, solid, pleasing. and it moves with you, warms to your touch as you mold it.
with a little work, it will become the perfect vessel for two, to be filled with all the loving things both of you can conjure. you know this, you have planned it all out. you can picture the shape in your minds because you know it in your hearts. it’s simply a matter of making it real.
but if your hands are idle, you will feel it start to harden in them. maybe you were too unsure, and you hesitated a bit too long. now you have over-manipulated the clay, your vision is blurred, and nothing feels natural anymore. your hands have grown weary. you might be able to still shape the vessel, but when it dries, the cracks will show. they may be too large to mend.
would it even matter what you put inside it then?
i read a book when i was little that said broken pieces of pottery can be added in with the fresh clay, and it will make the new pots stronger.
one year ago tonight, well, today, i was rolling around in the sheets with him for the first time.
and by that, i mean we had our first date.
i had met him the week before, on a thursday, at the (sadly) now-defunct club butchin’ in highland park. the place was nearly empty because there was a big party nearby at the dykeplex. ajai and i were about to head out of there when she spotted some people she knew. i was standing there impatiently when he walked over to me and started talking. he was hot, but i don’t flirt. i didn’t think i was flirting anyway, because i’m really very shy unless i’m being funny. at one point i was adjusting my breasts in my bra (i do that) and he said “you can’t do that in front of me!” so i grabbed his head and shoved them between my boobs. it was funny. less than an hour later we were at that party, attached at the face.
i was hoping to see him that weekend, but he had gone up to portland to visit some friends. i finally got a flirty text from him saturday night, and i (drunkenly) replied back that when he got home “we should fuck or something.” what the hell?
i was trying to slut it up a little because i never had before. about a month before that i had my first “one-night stand” although i don’t think it counts as that when you actually kind of know the person. anyway, that person wanted to see me again after, but i had recently had a shit experience with dating someone ultra-casually and i didn’t want to go there. i definitely wanted to get laid though. i was still in pretty good shape, physically, and feeling very confident about my sexual skills, thanks to the praises of the aforementioned lovers and the affirmation of my ex.
anyway, it was monday when he and i finally met for a ruse of a date at the shortstop. we each took wingwomen, which was helpful, but unnecessary, as the moment i slid onto the bar stool next to him and he asked me what i wanted to drink, i was at ease.
we flirted and made out for about an hour at the bar before i pulled him into the bathroom and politely explained, by placing his hand down the front of my panties, why it was about that time for him to take me home. and he did.
just like that, what i thought was going to be my second ever one-night stand began. from the very first moment we entered the bedroom, things went perfectly. the last time i had found myself in this position, the other party made the mistake of leaving a girl who had no idea how to have a one-night stand alone in their bedroom, drunk, when we first got back to the house. i had panicked, totally freaked, and ended up stripping down to my underpants and getting underneath her covers, pulling them up to my chin and waiting for the sex to start. it was my fault, but it was awkward.
but that night, with him, nothing was uncomfortable. we weren’t even drunk and it was so easy. he lowered me onto the bed, took off my clothes for me, and for the next four hours or so, we had some of the best, most insane sex i have ever had. i pulled out my big bag of tricks on the first date because i liked him, but also because i didn’t think it would happen again, and i wanted to leave a lasting impression.
we were smoking on the balcony when he told me he wanted to get to know me better. few words had stricken me with such horror. i knew then that i liked him so much. i knew it was almost unnatural how good it felt, how the smell and feel of his skin was simultaneously exotic and so familiar. i guess it won’t hurt now to say that i knew i could fall in love with him, but that is SO LESBIONIC!
we had sex on the balcony. after that, we got into bed and he curled up beside me while i wrote this blog, and when i was finished, he got me off two more times before falling asleep for three hours then waking me up in that special way.
one year later, we are still together. i guess it’s the gayest thing in the world, but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i mean, sometimes i have wished that we went on more official dates before we started banging, and sometimes i wish that we banged a few times before i showed him all my tricks, but the point is, i was terrified to fall in love and i acted like a dumbass and tried to run away a bunch of times. if i could do one thing different, i would not do that because i know that caused a wall between us, but i was so unbelievably scared of feeling that way about someone.
the thing about me is, i will never allow myself to be happy and i will never be satisfied. that is the truth. the best i could hope for is someone who is willing to put up with me, but twice now i have been lucky enough to be with someone who actually loves me. and now i am with someone who i am actually crazy in love with, which i never thought would happen. the problem is, i have held something back from him. not any love, that’s for sure. if anything, i feel like a lovesick fool whenever i am around him, but there is a part of me that i have kept hidden, or lost somewhere, i can’t quite figure it out. this side of me, i believe, is one of the main things that makes people fall in love with me (there have only been a few, but i’m just saying) and i’m so worried that if i don’t find her and show her to him, then he’s never gonna love me all the way.
does that make any sense?
i can be the funny girl, the outrageous girl, the crazy, the hopeless, but i don’t remember how to be the girl with a cracked-open heart, genuine and full of beautiful words and other small but opulent treasures. i think i tried to bury this because i wanted to always be be tough, sexy, and fun. when i found love, i realized i might not have to have those other things. now i realize that if i don’t figure out how to have them all, i might lose the most important one.
sometimes i think my life is like a pint of ben and jerry’s. well, not just any pint.
once i got a really wicked sweet tooth and bought a pint of ben and jerry’s cinnamon buns ice cream. this was unusual because i am not generally the sort to purchase ice creams not of the fruity sorbet variety. occasionally i will get vanilla, and if i ever do get a chocolate craving, usually while pms-ing, i will get rocky road or something. i almost never deviate from this, since most fad ice cream flavors tend to be disappointing (curse you baskin-robbins rainbow strawberry pop rocks sorbet!).
anyway, i bought the cinnamon buns ice cream at the 7-11 by joe’s old place right when we first started dating. it was late at night and we were watching a movie with the AC blasting, as this was right in the middle of last summer’s heat wave. i started in on the pint, completely forgoing the formality of a serving dish. you will note the early level of comfort i felt with joe. upon my first bite, i knew something was wrong. the ice cream wasn’t creamy at all, but rather icy, emitting a slight crunching noise as a dug in. i took this to mean it had been over-frozen, and surely beneath this glacial crust i would find a world of perfectly frozen, silken cream, with a caramel swirl and tiny balls of sweet, spiced dough dispersed throughout. i dug and dug with my plastic spoon until the slushy sound of spoon meeting frost became almost deafening, but still i had encountered not one single precious bun. my mind was racing. what could this mean? had they mislabeled the ice cream? was it so ancient that the buns had disintegrated into sad, sticky pools of cinnamon? was joe sitting on the other side of the bed discretely watching in horror as i tore into the pint with increasing urgency?
at this point i was no longer placing spoonfuls into my mouth, having abandoned all hope that the icy texture would ever give way. still, i plowed along, pushing the ice cream with the back of my spoon, with no idea why, really. it was then that i discovered my first cinnamon bun, then another, then another, until i saw that they all lay entombed at the bottom of the frigid pint. i had my answer. clearly, the entire thing had at some point melted, sending the suspended pastry nuggets careening to the bottom, and had then been re-frozen, causing the ice cream to become unnaturally hard.
this is how i think of my own existence sometimes. there was so much potential in the beginning, then at some point i lost all control, seemingly losing all things good, which in turn caused me to become hardened and doubtful. for several years now, i feel like i have been trudging along, digging through the refuse, finding ribbons of sweetness, but still searching for something substantial, something that would give me meaning and indicate somehow that it wasn’t all for nothing.
the analogy is imperfect, for in reality, at the end of my ben and jerry’s journey, i was grossed out by the realization that the ice cream had once been a melty mess, refused, of course, to eat the disgusting wads of dough at the bottom, complained about it to a completely understanding and compassionate joe, and even considered angrily marching back into 7-11 to demand a refund or replacement. unfortunately, in the case of life, there are no refunds, and i am hoping that when and if i find what i’ve been looking for, it will be awesome and delicious, as opposed to a sticky mess. some days, i think my time for “cinnamon buns” will never come, that i will never figure out what career i’m supposed to have, make any money, or live up to my fading potential.
then, i think maybe that’s not what the point is at all. maybe the point is amassing in one’s life a certain number of people who you would not be ashamed to sit in front of and lay waste to an entire pint of ice cream, cursing all the while, just to find one stupid fucking cinnamon bun that might not even be that great in the end. these people will be there to listen, love you through it all, and maybe even walk you back to 7-11 with the receipt, should you be so inclined.
i have been trying to focus and write something for the better part of three hours, but i am not in the mood. i’m not in a bad mood, per se, but i just don’t feel like writing, which is unpleasant. tonight i had the revelation that i write way too much about joe and then i asked joe about it and he said “yeah, people always ask me why your blog is about me.” what??? RUDE. while i know him well and i’m pretty fucking sure he is exaggerating, i am not going to ignore this statement because obviously it’s not completely pulled out of his ass, as i was thinking it myself.
look people, it’s not like i think i am the first person to ever fall in love, it’s just that this is the first time i myself have ever been in love at a way-too-late to bloom age and it’s making me insane! every time i have one of those moments of pure joy that people in love are supposed to feel, i burst into tears or at least just get really depressed because i know it can’t last forever. i guess i have always been like this was since i was a child. i feel like i can specifically remember crying hysterically when a perfectly cheerful book or movie was about to end. i don’t believe that happiness is the natural state of being for me, so clearly no good can come of this. i also feel so lucky to have met you-know-who, because he’s purely the perfect person for me, and as a few simple clicks into the archives of Amanda: Failure Princess will illustrate all too perfectly, i have shit for luck, so it’s no wonder that i am just kind of skulking around lately, waiting for life to kick me in the face.
point is i am sorry, dear readers, that you are having to share this journey with me. if it helps, i am going to try and post such things on my myspace blog, which is mostly public. i rarely write in because of this here blog, but it becomes absolutely necessary in situations exactly like this.
now on to the subject at hand: musica! this weekend was destined to be chill because wednesday night i went to dyke night at the eagle (like i do every wednesday) to celebrate my bday with some friends and ended up getting so wasted i came home and picked an insane blackout fight with joe which culminated in my marching down his street at 4 am in my bra, underpants, and an open flannel shirt dragging along a suitcase. but then joe came and rescued me from sleeping in my car, we had make-up sex, and i spent the whole entire next day in bed. suffice it to say, i had to beg for his forgiveness and i am lucky he still loves me. i can’t drink kamikazes… i have had a disaster each time i have and still haven’t learned. sad. by friday we were both officially sick with a cold, but we felt well enough to hit up amoeba music with my bff jenny.
i, of course, forgot my music list, so as usual i was wandering lost around the huge record store. what i did find was a copy of the el perro del mar cd used, which i have been looking for for a while. i had the mp3s but they kinda sucked, which is why i don’t really use filesharing programs. i was trying to decide what to get, because i really want to get the newest pj harvey album “white chalk,” but the iTunes version is cheaper and has a bonus track. from the songs i have heard on her myspace page, it’s really different for her and i like it a lot.
oh, okay, first i have to mention that all i ever listen to these days is radio hip hop hits and dance music. i am way too lazy to research new music and i’m super picky about what i listen to when it comes to indie, rock, or singer/songwriter stuff, so i just kind of stick with what i know when i’m in the mood. i had an accidental subscription to eMusic once a while ago and i found that was a much more user-friendly way than iTunes to discover new artists, especially independent and female ones, but i couldn’t afford to keep that subscription going. that’s the other reason i mostly listen to top 40 (besides that i love it, because damnit, i do!), i am too broke to afford to buy music usually and one can always count on a good friend to just hand them a mix cd with the latest britney on it, or whatever.
also at amoeba they were having a “cd single blowout” sale, which was kind of both awesome and depressing. awesome because i got a mint copy of the helium superball maxi-single and a cd of a bunch of annie “hearbeat” remixes with bonus tracks for only $1.99, but depressing because they also had some rare-ish bjork and tori amos singles in there for similarly low prices, all of which i already own and painstakingly collected for years. i know that’s just the way of modern technology, but man, it sure is painful and strange. the good news is in the same bin i also scored an extremely gently used copy of the bird and the bee “please clap your hands” ep for $3.99. this convinced me that these days people obviously just buy cds, rip them onto their computers, and sell them right back. it makes perfect sense in a way, because while you may not be getting back what you paid for it, what is it really worth sitting collecting dust in your cd collection? i hadn’t even touched a cd in months until friday night, i swear! i asked joe if he thought there would ever be a cd nostalgia like the vinyl one and he said “no.” i guess people really like the sound of vinyl, while cds are just transportation for the digital recording. hmm. on a side note, i think that pj harvey would sound better on vinyl, so i’m thinking of getting my record player fixed with my bday money.
is it wrong that i owe nearly $500 in parking tickets, but i don’t have the kind of money to cover them all at once, so i’m just not going to pay them at all? i am incapable of sorting my life out, but sometimes it just sorts itself out. for example, two or three years ago i lost my drivers’ license while making xmas gift returns and never got a new one because i was too lazy to go to the dmv. luckily, this year my license is up for renewal and they are sending me a new one! see, all it took was three years of driving around risking ticketing and/or arrest and the problem was solved. presto!
also for my bday i got an iTunes gift card, so i bought the album “a girl called eddy” by a girl called eddy. her music is am.az.ing! i discovered it that time i had eMusic and just never got around to buying the whole thing. it’s so good! she sounds like a cross between karen carpenter and dusty springfield and some of her lyrics are just brilliant. my fav songs are “somebody hurt you” and “golden.” the trouble is, this album came out in 2004 and there hasn’t been too many peeps since then. she doesn’t even have an official website, but check out her myspace to listen to some songs and then get the album cause the whole thing is pretty good. i miss having cds i can just put in and listen to all the way through. this is kind of one of those.
of course, with my luck, i actually purchased my first-ever full-length album from iTunes the day before i received the gift card. i got kate nash “made of bricks” and i am liking it so far. i’m glad i decided to get it on iTunes because a hard copy would not have been necessary, and again, it came with bonus tracks.
kate nash “foundations” video
this is the first song that ever got me into kate nash and it so so good! it makes me really sad and it’s also a funny, clever song. her voice isn’t mind-blowing, and i do understand the lily allen comparisons, but i like her style and music much better.
video of the bird and the bee performing their cover of the beegees’ “how deep is your love” with sia at the troubador
i am just getting into the bird and the bee and i like them a lot. many of their songs are kind of background music-y but i feel like that’s okay because the singer’s voice is so pretty and the songs that do stand out are really great. sia is another artist i have been meaning to check out. all the lesbos i know went nuts for her song “breathe me,” so i though it was extra-amusing when i read that she recently came out as dating her first girlfriend. she described her girlfriend as “like a boy” which also piqued my interest because i almost feel like butch/femme couples have gone underground these days. as i found out a few days later, her gf is supposedly jd samson from le tigre. this makes perfect sense because i saw jd three weeks or so ago at the eagle in l.a. and was semi-star struck, only because we ran into each other by the restroom and she was really sweet. anyway, she was with this adorable girl who was dressed so so so cute and had a little blonde bob with bangs. DUH! it was sia! they were so cute together i almost died.
on that note, i will leave you with the video of ellen page’s lesbian skit saturday night on SNL. many people are speculating that this is her subtle way of coming out. i thought that at first too, but it could also be poking fun at how everyone thinks she’s a lez. i don’t really care, i just think she’s hot and i do love her butchy swagger. the sketch is hilarious too. my favorite part is when she says “i’m finally burning bright with sister fire.” LOL!
i am adverse to beauty. or rather, several of its key components, including vulnerability. i refuse to feel soft. i have often thought of how funny it is that god (or whomever) decided to make me so enigmatic, and yet so un-mysterious and profuse, an enigma in itself. i have all this love to give, and i love so easily, but i will never, ever be able to experience the transfusion of love that happens between two people, because there is no way the needle is going in. even if they find my vein, it would likely be made of steel, or surely collapse just then, paper-thin. should the other person’s ichor somehow seep into my stream, it would undoubtedly be intoxicating for a moment, at least for the moment before my body ultimately rejects it. i am set in my ways, and anything variant from my own kind of love, no matter how true, could sicken me, curdle in my vessels, and weaken my heart. is any high worth that? i am left to wonder.
give me a break, it’s a holiday and i’m depressed. you may be happy to know that all is well in the Failure sector of this little ship. i am ruining as planned, no delays or stops. my valentine’s day with joe was lovely and perfect, and still i am miserable and wishing to remove my skin piece by piece. it is a sickness, clearly untreated, but i feel like it’s my responsibility to feel this way. i had almost forgotten this, which is kind of embarrassing, when i really think about it.
in way more hilarious news, i went to this lesbo night last night at the falcon in west hollywood. on sunday nights this “hotspot” screens the L word for l.a.’s dyke elite (LOL) and celesbians. recently it has been a frequent haunt of paris hilton puzzlingly, or rather tellingly, enough. in case you don’t know, i spend 99.9% of my time on the east side of l.a. and my stomach pretty much fills with bats when i have to travel west of la brea. i really wanted to take pictures for you guys, but i only got a few of me and my friends looking petrified, and what i really wanted to show you is how fucking ridiculous all of the girls there are. holy crap. it’s like what a nazi propaganda cartoon of los angeles lesbians would look like, complete with femmes in dresses, heels, and lez-cred fedoras and butches in… wait, were there any butches? if butches spend $60 on pomade for their short, spiky hair and wear sparkly lipgloss, then yes, yes there were. i’m all for the idea that we queers don’t need to fit into labels or roles if we don’t want to (or can if we do), but i think the women out at this club are less the poster children for “being who you are” and more those of “being who’s who,” at least in their minds. dis.as.ter! ew.
of course, the typical celezzies were out. kate moennig (shane), rose rollins (tasha), malaya drew (adele, jenny’s assistant), and clementine ford (molly, phyllis’ daughter and cybill shepherd’s real life daughter) were all spotted at a corner table. i will say, btw, that tasha and adele are really hot in person, and i did not see shane with my own eyes, but i have seen her 500,000,000 times in l.a. so whatevs (still…). i was secretly hoping to see paris (even though i am not a fan, i just thought that would be extra-hilarious), but she wasn’t there. i was pretty bummed, then something remarkable happened. i was waiting in line for the bathroom when i looked behind me, saw this little girl and thought “who brought their kid here?” then i started to recognize her. could it be? YES! it was mackenzie rosman, better known as RUTHIE FROM 7TH HEAVEN!!!!
wtf? i’m not outing her or saying she’s a lez, by the way, because unfortunately (or fortunately, if you believe this is going to lead to diversity as opposed to appropriation) straights are coming in droves to gay bars, at least here in l.a. anyways, it was amazing. she looks so fucking young and exactly the same as she did when she was, like, nine. i don’t think she’s even 21, but upon further inspection, she did look a little older than a child and she was with some older-looking friends. this may have been one of the best celeb sightings ever. seriously, way better than if it had been jessica biel. we heard about two lesbian fights breaking out and saw the cops outside taking pics of a seemingly perfectly normal girl with a huge shiner and a bloody scratch above her nose. dyke drama = serious biz.
not too long after that we had our fill of $12 drinks and giant outdoor fireplaces. we headed homeward to echo park’s fav dive bar, the little joy, where one of the bartenders (who i’m sorry to say i know personally) ran up to me and one of my other friends and screamed in our faces for coming in with another friend of ours who she used to date. it was both disheartening and comforting to know that no matter where you are in town, east side or west, gay bar or straight, there are totally psychotic people waiting to possibly attack you.
goddamn it, i need to update this thing every day! today as i was driving home from working on the westside (*shudder*), i had this image of myself dying in a fiery crash because a) i think i accidentally ingested some of my face serum and obviously that was in direct correlation with my massive headache as opposed to the fact that i ate nothing all day, and i was worrying about passing out from retinol poisoning (?) at the wheel, b) my car was nearly on E and i’m pretty sure my tires are completely airless, and c) people drive like assholes on the 10 freeway. it was scary, but got even scarier when i imagined that the expensive sex toy post would be my legacy. very sad, very sad.
anyhoo, i don’t have much to talk about if you don’t count the ever-growing pit of despair i am sinking into, which most people don’t really care to discuss. i mean, i could just be projecting, but that’s the feeling i get.
so what DO you want to talk about?
how about the fact that i am turning 27 on the 26th of this month? hold on, i’m weeping and i don’t want to fuck up my keyboard.
alright, i’m back. the trouble with turning 27 is that at this point in my life, i have amassed enough friends in their early-to-mid-thirties in front of whom i am scared to say i hate getting older for fear of a verbal beatdown. look, people, it’s not that i think YOU are old, otherwise i wouldn’t hang out with you, it’s that i am getting older and older and i don’t really have much to show for it except for small nuggets of oft-neglected wisdom.
um, i don’t have any pictures to season this undoubtedly disheartening post, so i am going to fill it with images of my favorite seasonings for pretty much all savory foods.
last year i was feeling pretty optimistic about turning 26. i just KNEW it was going to be a good year, and it actually really was! there were some VERY dark and humiliating moments, some “learning experiences” (aka blacking out drunk), and some very sad times, but i definitely had one of the most fun spring/summers i have ever had in my life, culminating in falling retarded-in-love for the first time.
that, of course, has proven to be a double-edged sword. while i enjoy, nay, adore this feeling, i also hate, hate, can honestly say hate it. it makes me feel really stupid, insecure, and afraid. it’s been a year now since sleeping with someone other than my ex (who i was with for three years and still exclusively sleeping with for two after that) finally broke the spell and made me charge forward into a life free from the promise of loveless, however comfortable and satisfying sex, and into the unnerving world of no promise of sex, possibility of terrible sex, possibility of embarrassing sex, possibility of being used for sex, possibility of having a lot of fun fucking around, and possibility that one of those nights of fuckery would lead to six beautiful months of spending time with someone whose very presence still sends me into some kind of inexplicable sensory overload. seriously, i can barely sleep next to joe because i love him so much, it makes me fucking sick. i know i am going to get hurt really bad, partly because i don’t deserve to be happy and am unlovable (duh) but also because i just don’t know that i am at a place in my life to be making healthy or wise decisions for my future.
for godssake, i am almost 27, work 20 hours a week, and live with my mother! i have given up on the lofty idea that i am ever going to do anything great or important, but for the love of god, i must do SOMETHING! a while back i got an email from a woman from a well-known publishing company (however small) that loved my blog and wanted me to think about writing a book proposal, BUT the catch was this company publishes humor books, a genre in which it (according to her experience) is very difficult for a woman to break into, especially since their target audience is men aged 18-34. she wanted to know if i thought i could write a book like that. i declined in my way, which was to never email or call her back. it seemed like the right thing to do at the time, being that my experience is what it is: hyper-femme and ultra-gay, two things i wouldn’t even know how to begin to “write around.” i dunno, this happened in summer, but i just told joe about it and he got really mad at me. he said it could have at least been an experience, an opportunity. um, duh, passing up opportunities is kind of my thing. this failure thing is no front, i’ll tell ya that much.
so, in closing, i would like to say that there are several reasons for my general discomfort right now, the first being my lack of direction in life (like i said, i have a job i like right now, but i need to be working more and getting health insurance), my lack of confidence in my ability to love and be loved, and the fact that my tits are aging right off my carcass. oh woe!
the light at the end of the tunnel is that there are things to look forward to. this weekend there’s a party i think will be pretty fun (a friend is turning 30, boo-yah! we all drink like 22-year-olds, so it should be a blast), then there’s that whole first valentine’s day with a true love thing (i know vday is fake and lame, but i like to think of it as an excuse to trick joe into letting me blow him in public. romance = key), and then there is the following weekend in which we are going up to sf to stay with two of my very dear friends ashlee and danielle, hopefully hang out with one of the funniest women alive, shari call, and meet up with my two favorite portland friends, niki and vera, who is djing at hotpants. hotpants, if you will remember, is the club i went to with my friends the night before sf pride last year and totally blacked out, so in a way it will be a weekend of second chances. have the lessons 26 taught me taken hold? we shall see.
oh, um, yeah, so regarding the seasoning thing, i have always put salt and lemon on EVERYTHING. everyone gets mad at me about the salt, but lemon is good for you because it has vitamin c and no carbs. my new absolute FAV no carb treat, howevs, is frank’s red hot sauce. it’s sooo yummy. i like my hot sauce to be super-vinegar-y but not too hot and fermented tasting like tobasco. for that reason, i only use siracha in moderation. the flavor is good, but it’s SO HOT and doesn’t add enough sharpness without additional lemon. i’m kind of new to this hot sauce thing because i used to be a wimp about spicy foods, but it seems that with age, my love for spice has grown proportionately with my propensity to get really awful heartburn.
by god, i’m depressing. how do i even have any friends?
i feel like it’s almost absolutely necessary to keep in my regular tradition of NEVER writing and then writing about a bunch of stuff that doesn’t really fit together, so that is what i am going to do.
well, for now anyway, because as i mentioned previously, i have quit my job and am going to be having a LOT of free time on my hands to do such frivolous things as write, take classes, and you know, pursue my dreams. it’s going to be alllllright. today (friday) is my last day at work and i am unbelievably excited about that fact. i already made appointments with my eye doctor, dentist, and bikini waxer. i am going to be the most well-groomed hobo ever! YAY!
in case you don’t know, i am well-aware of the political incorrectness of the term “hobo” but i just finished reading fannie flagg’s fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe. it makes me feel kind of like a moron to say this, but this is one of those ultra-rare cases when i think the movie is just way better than the book. in fact, i was actually pretty disappointed by the book. j promised me it was going to be way more lesbionic than the movie, and while it was a little more intense, the characterization was just not there for idgie and ruth. the same is true of all the other characters. plus, i feel like it is borderline racist. maybe that is the whole point and it was radical for the 80s, but i just wasn’t feeling it. all it made me want to do was see the movie. goddamn, that’s good movie. i did like the added character development of smokey lonesome (the hobo) in the book though. i always liked that character in the movie.
omg, speaking of movies, i REALLY want to see that new vampire movie coming out called “30 days of night,” but as you know, death-by-vampire is my second most-feared means of death. i don’t know, i am just sooo curious though. it looks very interesting but way too scary!
i saw about a million commercials for it last weekend when j and i went to palm springs for my friend moof’s bday. she rented this GORGEOUS resort-like home and we just relaxed and swam and ate for two days, it was amazing. i also got sucked into the strange and wonderful world of cable tv and watched the entire cycle 6 of america’s next top model. i was in HEAVEN. then on saturday night j took me out for a nice filet mignon in downtown palm springs. this was our first vacation together and also marked the first time we have had sex outside of l.a. county lines. well, once he rubbed me out in the car on the way home from orange county, but i didn’t come until we got to long beach, so i don’t think that counts.
yes, i said he. j has a female body, identifies as neither gender, and prefers male pronouns. if that definition sounds a bit rehearsed coming from my foul little mouth, that is because that’s what he told me to say when people start asking all kinds of questions about me dating a boy. to me, he’s just the best time ever. also, he is crazy hot, great in bed, and smells good. last night he asked me formally if i would be his girlfriend and duh, i said yes. i was terrified at first when we met because it all happened so fast and i was finally becoming used to the idea of being alone and wanting to sleep around and just being the all-around poster party-girl. then i met him and we connected from that first night. j is the perfect combination of giving and demanding. he knows how to talk me down from my (daily) ledges with a firm yet gentle voice, he watches america’s next top model with me, and he actually loves and enjoys giving back rubs. at the same time, he also grabs my ass and objectifies me in public sometimes because he knows i like it, communicates effectively with me when he needs something or has had enough of something i need (like ANTM), and is such that i want to please him in any way i can. the other day, i found myself straightening up his room and realized i surely must be in love because anyone who has seen the way i live knows that it is a grand expedition in any room i inhabit to even find me a matching pair of socks. sexually speaking (haha), i have never enjoyed giving this much before. then again, i have never slept with someone i was this into before. it’s pretty much totally awesome.
i dunno, i guess this mushy stuff is all pretty boring to you guys. i love writing funny stories about my shitty life as much as you love reading them, and i don’t want to jinx things between j and i (there will be/have been complications and frustrations), but i just feel like nothing can really take me down right now. it’s silly, i know, and i don’t really believe anything lasts forever, but this is the first time for a really fucking long time that i have wanted something to last forever, have wanted anything real at all, in fact, and i’m not going to take this feeling for granted. trying not to sabotage it, on the other hand, is a whole separate challenge for me. a daily struggle, but i have chosen to take it on.
this weekend, i am going to enjoy our first weekend of official coupledom, hang out with a lot of friends, old and new, and get ready for the no-work week. so sweet.
it is actually pretty ridiculous how quickly the mantle of love has fooled me into thinking i don’t need to try and look cute anymore. hahaha. i have only been seeing j for ONE MONTH! poor thing. i am already too lazy to wear makeup (and it melts off in this heat anyway), buy new clothes, wear any shoes other than black flip flops or vans, or do anything to my hair other than put it in a ponytail. j says j likes that i am so comfortable and that i am beautiful both ways, but i don’t buy it. i’m gonna shape up quick. i want to be the hot (future) girlfriend. i have so much to write about j, my relationship with j, and my feelings about the whole thing, but i feel like i have to treat the situation so delicately. i feel so lucky and so scared at the same time. i am terrified of the feeling i have in the morning when i wake up next to j. the feeling that the patch of soft, fragrant skin of j’s back peeking out from beneath the covers could be mine to kiss every morning for a very long time and that i could wake up this happy again and again scares me just as much, if not more, than the knowledge that i could fuck it up at any second, ruin it as i do almost everything i touch.
in other, less nauseating news, i have actually just about finished an entire tube of lipgloss in the first time probably EVER! the lucky lippie is NARS babe lipgloss, which is a super-shiny, sheer, bright, true warm red. it is also super-sticky, which means it is shinier and lasts longer, but also that if you aren’t careful to forcibly remove the cigarette you are smoking from your mouth, it will stick to your lips, thereby causing you to nearly drop it onto your lap or car. true story. more than once. DOH!
i wrote a big, long post about work before and this touching story that made me cry of an 88 year-old woman coming out as a lesbian, but then safari froze and i am too pissed off to write it again.
i would say of all my nasty habits, chewing the shit out of everything i touch is by far the most disturbing. i re-discovered this while working at my new job, as i have systematically laid waste to each and every disposable bic in my path. this wouldn’t be that bad of a problem, i guess if i was just nibbling, but we are talking full-on destruction here. it starts off with an innocent squeeze of the cap with my front teeth. then i start gnawing slowly on it with my molars until the little circular nipply part in the middle pops off. then i chew and chew until the cap shreds to an unrecognizable pile of plastic and move on to the bottom of the pen. the end result is usually just me staring remorsefully at my now unusable pen, but i will not lie and say i haven’t been caught looking rabid, with inky foam on my lips. oh my god. oh my god, i can’t believe i am admitting that here!
i guess i am just a really nervous person, and work is a nerve-wracking place. the new tape gun we got to seal the packages going out each day may have a comfort grip handle, but it also makes a sound very similar to a velociraptor every time i try to use it. not so comforting.
also, i don’t think my boss likes me very much. i find this disconcerting for two reasons, one being that i live in a world (my head) where everyone likes me because i am as soft and harmless as a butterfly breeze and secondly because he controls my financial future and therefore the future of my monthly bikini wax.
p.s. btw next time i go in i am asking lily to take off ALL the hair. i feel the need to start afresh. the current landing strip i have is looking a little beleaguered. and no, i am not alluding yet again to how much sex i have been having lately, but the amount of stress daily things like curling, flat-ironing, and sun-damage can do to your pubes. jk. i am so sleepy!
saturday i went down to long beach with my new friend j. to meet j’s sister and sister’s friend at this sea festival thing and we had an amazing time. i love the beach but i never go there because that means i have to leave the silverlake area. i kid, i kid, i just hate driving. the ocean calls me though, and it makes me feel kind of scared. if i stand there long enough i will start to cry and i don’t really have any idea why. i told j. i was going to walk right in and not come back and j. asked me if i was a selkie. i was impressed.
anyways, it was beautiful and the weather was perfect at four o’clock. j. and i laughed a lot like dorks and kissed and i laid in j’s lap in the sand. looking up at the marbled sky, i wondered aloud if, since each and every second of my life i am seized with fear, hurt, and general unrest, then what it meant that at that very moment, i felt perfectly at ease and satisfied. j. said maybe it means i’m falling in love, then followed quickly with “wait, i just made the fear come back, huh?” then i said yes and we laughed a lot again.
i also waded in the water and my skirt got all wet, but i brought about a hundred costume changes. i was feeling pretty okay about that, but then we drove to huntington for a party at amy’s and she and her bro told me the long beach water is filthy filthy dirty. gross. whatever, i just got really drunk then and everyone went swimming and jacuzzing and it was one of the best fucking days in a long time.
i don’t know about all this love biz because as you may know, i do not believe in anything that never leaves but disappears, and honestly we haven’t known each other that long and it is far too early for that, but i am feeling a tinge of happiness… and it’s something i am not used to, so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. and my thigh muscles kinda hurt too, but that’s a different story. a much less or more romantic one, depending on how you look at things.
and right now, i don’t know how to look at things. is my habit of sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop wise or is it wasteful? when will i ever be able to just experience things and not dissect them so, obliterating my instincts? when will i stop gnawing at the heart?