Friday, June 29, 2012

Sort Of, Kind Of, Maybe...Yes?

It's a terrible idea.

The worst.

We never should.

We never will. 

I kind of want to.

I know I can't.

But maybe if only.

But it never will.

Let's stop before we start.

Maybe we can start a little.

We never, ever, ever better.

It's for the best.

Let's forget this for a while.

Let's not think about forevers.

I kind of think I want to.

I want to not to want to.

I like the way I want to.

Maybe I know it, too.

It's a perfect plan.

It's best left to plan.

Let's never, ever, ever start.

I hope we never stop.

The more we do.

The more we don't.

But if we did.

Best we didn't.

It's sort of a good dream.

It shouldn't be.

Let's pretend we do.

Let's pretend we did.

Let's forget we didn't.

Things We Are / Things We Are Not

Things We Are:


Things We Are Not:

*In Love

Friday, June 15, 2012


The (wrong) girl.
Hello, boys. Growing up your mommy probably told you tales of the "right" girl. You would meet her and you would fall in love. She would be every shade of perfect for you. Perhaps she was quiet and unassuming. Perhaps she was fiercely independent and deliciously outspoken.
Well, I am ALL of those things. I just happen to be all of those things at the most innappropriate and awkward moments. Half the time, it isn't even clever or ironic. It's just me stumbling through life; ridiculous, silly, day dreamy, and frustrated.
Honestly, I'd probably be the "right" girl for you, living the "right" sort of life, with all the "right" things in place.
But, somehow I'm not.
And that makes me the (wrong) girl.

For all you girls out there, I was the girl you probably didn't want to know. If you did, your mom didn't think it was a good idea. It's ok. I'm sure you had your reasons. I was often cited as the bad influence; the corrupter. Many a friend had to pretend to be talking to someone else (when they were really talking to me). I was the girl who encouraged you to sneak out, meet boys, paint your face, wear combat boots, listen to Bikini Kill. You know, the girl you are thanking RIGHT NOW for having a damn life. Unless, I stole your boyfriend. You probably aren't thanking me right now. In that case, I should say, he always thought I was a better kisser. And! I probably made him cry :) It's ok, you are successful, married, lots of kids coming out of your clown car vagina, you have money, attention, love, affection. I have a lot of damages. But, I also have a lot of really GREAT stories. And, I'm one foxy lady!

Here is a list of things I LOVE and will bring up time and again (to the point where it won't be cool or impressive but more like a seemingly desperate attempt to impress YOU. It's not. It's really all I think about. It's a little sad, really. I think a lot like a teenage boy. Not even a cool teenage boy. When I say teenage boy, I really mean, cool, detached, unattainable chick. And when I say cool, detached, unattainable chick, I really mean teenage boy).

Ok, start the list of all things I love and talk about too, too excessively:

*Monty Python (movies, skits, Flying Circus)
*Mel Brooks (movies, or just Mel in general)
*Star Wars (my whole concept of life revolves around Jedi Ideology)
*Music/Bands (I haven't the foggiest idea who all is out there now. I'm sure it's great. Unfortunately, I repetitively talk about and listen to the same bands who haven't put anything out in a long time and it gets old to hear about my "favorite song by The Kinks" rather quickly. Or, you might hear me tell you that Jello Biafra was once a roadie for The Nails way too many times. By the way, I LOVE The Nails)
*They Might Be Giants (Thank God they are still putting out new stuff or I wouldn't have anything new to talk about ever)
*Nirvana (I'm still their biggest fan and I love what Krist is up to these days. I wish Dave Grohl would just disappear. Pat Smear, I'm really disappointed in you)
*Oingo Boingo (I can't get enough of their music or their awesomely awful movie The Forbidden Zone)
*Andy Warhol
*Alfred Hitchcock
*Beat Generation Poets (Team Ginsberg! Team Burroughs!)
*H.P. Lovecraft
*B Movies (sci-fi, claymation, cheesy gore, I love it all!)
*Big Band/Swing (My friends are already familiar on my whole dissertation on how NOT loving Benny Goodman makes you a fascist. It's totally relative to eating mayonnaise)
*Mayo and Sour Cream are the two most vile substances on the face of this planet
*Speaking of planets, I'm still rooting for you, Pluto!
*Tickling. Please never tickle me.
*Mom jeans/mom khakis (I'll never wear them)
*Slip on Vans and old school Chucks (I'm still so ridiculously immature that those shoes give me goosebumps)
*Angels baseball (it's ok if you don't care for sports or like someone else. I could never marry a Dodgers or Yankees or Red Sox fan. But, I could love them from a distance)
*Rainy Weather (I really love storms)
*Vinyl. I'm really into vinyl. (Especially 45's, 33's and 78's. Hit me up if you have any clue as to what I am talking about)
*Old movies (romance, noir, war, anti war, westerns)
*Time Travel and Teleportation
*The 80s
*The 60s
*The 50s
*The 40s
*The 30s
*The 20s
Pretty much every decade starting with the 90s and going back to the 20s
Except for the 70s. It was ok, but as a whole, meh.
*Philosophy (especially existentialism)
*String Theory
*J.D. Salinger 

Alright, upon looking it over, I suppose I am a little more well-rounded than I thought. I guess I have more interests than that of a teenage boy. I still don't think I've fully made it to totally cool, detached unattainable chick.

But, for now, I am certainly still the girl with the horrible sense of timing and boundaries. Yes, I am the (wrong) girl.

The Serial Killer's Guide To Dating

Secretly, I'm hoping by creating that title that I will get a multitude of hits (including some FBI screenings) and that I will meet someone who finds my dark sense of humor absolutely charming.
I also think it's a perfect description for my dating life.

Once upon a time, I ran off with an artist three times my age with no money, no place to live, and I gave up my youth in return. What can go wrong with that? So, I got smart and dated the opposite of him and ended up with no money, no place to live, and even less of my youth in return. Hey! That wasn't supposed to happen. Well, now I am going to be smart!

Unfortunately, I, like most women, often end up dating the same man (or the same two men) again and again. Usually, they are attracted to my cool, detached demeanor (I'm a sly one). They usually end up running for their lives for the reasons listed below:

*Too Passionate
*Too Intense
*Really Weird
*Really, really weird

Oh, did I mention I cry? Yeah, I do that. Sometimes, I do that A LOT. I especially cry when I am not having sex. I haven't figured out what's worse, yet; dating a sexaholic who is happy getting it on with you and half the town or the vanilla bean guy who looks at you and shrugs in cruel indifference while you are lying there writhing in heated passion and no place to let go of it.

((Two guesses on who the last guy was))

So, after much meditation, fasting, soul searching, and deliciously deplorable conversations with my closest lady friends (and a couple of trust worthy guy friends), I think I finally have the answer.

I need to date like a serial killer.

At first, I thought I needed to DATE the serial killer. But, here's the kicker, ladies, serial killers are just like 99.9% of all the guys out there. They want what they can't have. They want the fantasy. Once you become the chick sitting on the couch every day, no amount of knowledge of obscure music trivia (go ahead, ASK ME!) and no amount of smarty pants mathy-science knowledge, will even flipping matter. They are probably going to want to stand in the bushes of someone else and leer at some other girl from an uncomfortable distance. Plus, you have to keep pretending that it ISN'T what you really want. I'm all up for games and pretend, but at some point, I really, REALLY, REALLY want to make out with the guy. And, the truth is, I want him to want to make out with me, too. The bad part? Too often I don't want him to stop wanting to make out with me and only me. With the serial killer, it's usually worse because he most certainly wants to just want to make out with you. I hate THAT guy. You know who he is. He's the guy that just wants to want you. He'll pursue you until the ends of the earth and back until you say those three little words:
"Sure, let's date."
Let us also not forget the most important word in the title:
Do you understand what this means? It means that you are NOT the only one.
I have searched long and hard for Mr. Clingy, Mr. Desperate, Mr. Needy. If I could just find that one special guy that needs me sooooo much and no one else will do, I will bake him cookies forever in exchange for a whole lot of kissing. I'll talk about and listen to all the cool bands, watch all the B Movies, dig on the same sci-fi flicks, read comic books, tell dirty jokes (or pretend to be offended, if that's what you like).
Yes, I totally understand that this is the most girl statement ever. But, that's the point of being a girl. You get to be, well, a girl.
I can also cry, too.
And, I can impress you with all of my music trivia knowledge
(Name two famous musicians from Siouxsie and the Banshees that are not famous for being in Siouxsie and the Banshees)
I have decided that there is really one guy for me; one sure fire no complications/ace in the hole kind of guy:
Homeless men who sleep under bridges.
Growing up in the 90s, it was sort of a dream of mine to hitch hike up to Seattle and find one of these guys and groom him to be the next Kurt Cobain. But, that's not a good idea either, because eventually everyone will be wearing ripped jeans, flannel tshirts, and wanting all the love of YOUR man.
That's pretty much how it went down, anyway.
So, what I REALLY need is to just pick up some guy who hasn't eaten in a really long time. I can cook all sorts of yummy treats in exchange for his undying, unyielding love for me. If he starts to lose interest, lock him in the basement and take away his food supply. Once he begins to love me again, I will not only cook for him, but I will clean for him. Hell, I will even clean him! We will have snuggle fests when it's rainy outside. When he gets slimy and dirty, we can stick to each other like a couple of snails. He'll be my best friend. BEST. FRIEND. EVER. We'll have all sorts of inside jokes. We'll play board games. And! We will TOTALLY make out.
If he should ever decide to leave me, it's ok. I have enough rope, duct tape, and chloroform to make him change his mind. And if I am REALLY lucky, I'll manage to pick up some homeless guy who was once upon a time a struggling artist/writer/musician and I will impress him with my knowledge of music
(Sid Vicious and Robert Smith. You didn't know that, did you? See, I told you I was impressive)

Of course, there is one hitch in my plan. Plenty of homeless people suffer from mental illnesses such as schizophrenia which, if you've ever been a party to this one, you know, means a whole lot of emotional detachment and not liking to be touched.

Recap: Girl Seeks Homeless Man Who Hasn't Eaten In A Really Long Time And Likes Touching

Seriously, what can go wrong with that?