Video Blog: Writing Woes and Dating Foes

15 11 2012

I needed a writing break, so I talked about writing.


10 Realizations.

22 08 2012

1. When the bartender comes up at the end of the night and tells me everything will be okay and hugs me, twice–proof that I spend way too much time drinking in public.

2. I should, at all times, have a bag of tater tots in the freezer, just in case of emergency.

3. I need to develop a proper evil villain cackle. I’m getting pretty close. Maleficent is still my idol and I do not understand why in the world they picked Angelina Jolie to play her in a movie. I mean maybe it would have worked ten years ago when she was still a badass, but now? No. No. No. I don’t really know who would have been better, originally I would have said Angelica Huston but she’s too old now. Maybe Mara Rooney?  Too young. Finnne, Angelina, it’s all you.

4. I don’t have feelings anymore. Like, I know how I’m supposed to respond and act, but inside–nothing. For example, I heard some interesting news last night that should have made me angry or sad but instead I was just like wtf, that’s dumb, let’s get drunk. And that’s what happened. I wonder when it’s all going to be realized. I wonder if I’ll ever cry?

5. I want chinese food every day, but every day I find a way not to order it. I think I’m afraid I’ll become addicted to it, then Peter and I will have to start seeing each other regularly and I don’t know if he’d be a good match for me. (Peter of Peter’s Chinese–also he’s probably married and such so that was just a really bad joke.)

6. I went to bed at like 3 a.m. last night then I woke up at 7:30 and went for a run. I think I did run the hangover part out, so all that was left was tired and I fixed that by going right back to sleep. This could possibly be my new hangover solution.

7. I need someone to hold me accountable on a number of things 1. My writing 2. Working out 3. Limiting my intoxication 4. cooking more 5. Finding a better job–feel free to take any or all of these holding-me-accountable options.

8. Confession: I watched the first season of Jersey Shore. And it wasn’t as dumb as I thought it was going to be. Maybe because I was expecting it to be much worse? I don’t know. I mean I understand their desire to have a good time, to meet people, to have crazydrunksex and punch things–perhaps I should move to the shore and become ONE OF THEM. Bahaha. That could never happen.

9. All I want relationship-wise right now is reliable sex and someone to watch netflix with. I don’t think this is too much to ask. If you know of anyone who may be interested in this setup send them my way!

10. I have the most amazing friends in the world. And I thank them for putting up with me and getting me through this year of 27 changes.


Yay to Self-Analysis with No Self-Help!

8 08 2012

I went on a date last night with a certified nerd. We started talking about Harry Potter and about how someone I know owns a cape and a wand based off the movies. He admitted to owning a wand himself and then he asked if there was anything I was really into.

I thought about it for a second and said “no, I like to keep everything equally distant from me so nothing can ever break my heart.”

At the time we just laughed about it, but the more I think about it, the more depressed I become.

And it’s not like being really into Harry Potter or Star Wars or Comic Books could break a person’s heart, which is why nerds are into that stuff anyway, but the things that I used to be really into actually can and do.

The only things I’ve ever really collected (besides a troll obsession in 2nd grade) have been ideas—feminism, veganism, existentialism, socialism, theoretical approaches to race, class, sexuality, freedom. The more one learns the more painful life becomes. Seeing through the fabric that keeps America clothed is rather frightening and sad.

Maybe that’s why for the past two years I’ve kept my distance. Maybe that distance is why I haven’t accomplished anything with my life. Maybe feeling like I need to accomplish something is just another layer of societal guilt keeping me in this constant state of push-pull.

Maybe I need to quit going on dates.

That’s a big one right there. If I responded with, “I like to keep everything equally distant,” it’s really obvious I should not be dating. I am not capable of letting anyone in. It would be almost impossible to develop any sort of meaningful relationship with me because the entire time I’d just be waiting for the moment in which it all fell to shit. Because it will.

Yeah yeah, many people probably want to respond with, “but just enjoy it while you can,” or “if you found the right person. . . .”


I am not capable of being in a meaningful relationship. It has been concluded. That is the final decision.

And with that I give up.

I would like to find an obsession. I would like to really be into something. But I don’t want to allow anything that much power over me. I want to be able to walk away if I need to. I need to be able to walk away when I have to.

We All Nasty.

6 06 2012

I will be the first to admit that I am not the smartest person in the entire universe. I will, more than likely, have plenty of grammar issues and whatnot throughout this post, as an example. But, I must declare that I am incredibly upset by our culture’s lack of taste.

We are the “white trash” country of the world.


I try to hide from it.

I’ve spent a majority of my time in life avoiding pop culture. I try not to listen to the radio. I try not to watch anything on television except Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. I never read or watched Twilight. I don’t shop at stores that sell things new. I barely even read articles online anymore–and when I do they almost always come from Jezebel or I’ll catch of clip of Rachel Maddow while eating peanut butter off a spoon late at night after work. Usually, when I read an article or catch a clip I just end up getting pissed off, which annoys me, then I get more pissed off.

In other words, I attempt every day to not get pissed off.

I almost always fail.

Perhaps instead of avoiding that which pisses me off, I should confront it. I should embrace the fact that this shit exists and I should explain to people why they shouldn’t like it.

But who am I to be a cultural critic?

Am I qualified in any way?

What exactly makes my taste in things better than the average bear?

Just because I’m bitchy and judgmental and have been making fun of things for at least a decade?

Just because I went to school and have nothing better to do with my degrees?

I don’t know if I want to get involved in all this hoopla. It seems like I’d still be feeding into it even if what I was doing was analyzing it.

Perhaps if I’m bombarded by it with no choice over the matter– like I am at work with this”Call Me Maybe” shit feeding into my brain over and over all day long, then I am allowed to complain. Because no one deserves that kind of torture. It’s pure brain damage. And someone should STOP it.

All we can do it create better material and hope that it gains similar popularity. Though probably not possibly, at least the attempt is being made and there are alternatives.

Tomorrow: a video blog deconstructing Carly Rae and all who love her. You’re all going down.