update on the toilet paper

I put it on top of the toilet in the first stall. 4 hours later, it is still there.

I had an encounter with an old lady at the sink. We have the faucets where you have to push hot or cold and they automatically turn off. One of the 2 sinks only turns on when you continuously push it with one hand, leaving your other hand to try and rub and rinse itself. She was struggling at the bad sink and goes "This sink is so hard to work, god, he's so chinsy" and I was very excited that she said this, that there is synchronicity. I said, "I know, there's not even any paper towels." And she gave me an understanding nod and left.

about to enter a manic phase??

I couldn't sleep at all last night. I didn't have even a bit of caffeine before bedtime, and all I could do was turn over and over in frustration and anxiety. This is very rare for me. I'm thinking it may be the beginning of a summer manic phase!

Every summer it's well known (to me and some friends) that I go a little crazy. My hormones, for some reason, go into overdrive, and I want to do it constantly. This has led to many sticky situations (literally!) and things I look back upon with a certain degree of nauseating regret. Luckily, as with last summer, I am basking in the joys monogamy this year! Praise the Lord! Praise the lord!

So I have all this energy that I have to focus on creating, but it feels too knotted up to go through and untangle. I cannot believe I am sentenced to spend most of this summer indoors, in a gray and beige office, where in the bathroom there is toilet paper in place of paper towels.

Our building manager is known to be an asshole and cheap. On the counter of our building's bathroom, there is a ROLL OF TOILET PAPER. I have never seen anything like this before. This is no oddly placed spare roll, as it's been sitting there deliberately every day, for almost a year. Sometimes they actually rearrange it's placement! The other day, it was set in a brown wicker basket, with a few squares flirtatiously and deliberately dangling off the side, a little installation the janitor set up to say: use me. I've actually seen a couple ladies tear some off and self-consciously "dry" their hands on it and then deposit the wet pulp in the trash can with puzzled faces. I felt embarrassed for them. I feel so demeaned having to see that roll sitting there.

I need to do something. This is not my life!!!

I am going to move the roll into a stall the next time I go to the bathroom. Expect an update on the whereabouts!

whenever i write seriously about discontent with humanity i feel like i'm 15

this is in response to nancy's post.

i say it's ok to think you're better than other people based on decisions you make. why shouldn't we dislike lazy-minded people who don't want to better humankind in any way. "worker bees" that don't care about anything important, or at least interesting. why shouldn't we shun that which not only do we hate, but is detrimental to humanity.

what is uninspiring
what is horrible
what is not progressive
what is mediocre
what is insincere garbage

A movie review!

This weekend, with a purse concealing a large can of Sapporo and a bag of sour gummi apples, I went to go see Knocked Up at the $3 dollar theater. I went with the boy (I mean, MAN) who knocked me up, expecting to see a fun entertaining movie, that would, underneath the cute vulgar humor and annoying poster and typical Hollywood comedy jokes, nicely and profoundly reveal some grain of deeply human social commentary on relationships and how cool they are. And it would do this in a casual way, that makes you feel warm inside without feeling cheesy, like the show Freaks and Geeks did. Like I read in the reviews! The main character's name was Alison, and I am not going to lie, I was kind of excited to see someone in the position I was kind of in last year: unexpectedly pregnant, and then experiencing a deeper relationship with the baby daddy as a result. But, oh, it disappointed me in many ways.

First of all, it's another movie that has a "perfect 10" type woman (beautiful AND smart AND successful!) paired up with a fat loser type. Not like this couldn't happen in real life, or that there's a problem with ugly people dating pretty people, but does every movie ever made just HAVE TO pander to male fantasty? If it ever is the other way around, they have to make the whole movie/show focus on the fact that this "ugly" (average) woman somehow lucks out and finds love. And then we have to deal with shows like Tyra Banks to "empower women" that make no sense, because how is a fat, or even chubby, or somewhat unattractive woman ever supposed to feel good about herself in a world of fat jokes and movies where the equivalent "average" men all exclusively date hot women, especially on a show hosted by a SUPERMODEL? wooo, I'm letting my angry feminist out again! So unattractive!! Back to the movie!

They keep referring to the Seth Rogan character as a "lovable slacker", though I find nothing lovable about him. He's the stupid lazy unemployed funny guy with all the red flags that you must stay away from, unless you want to pay for dinner every time, or spend Friday nights indoors. Eventually, it makes you feel stupid for putting up with it, and you can only feel pity for them when the waiter takes the bill with your credit card, their faces turn red and they awkwardly thank you afterwards. These situations cannot be saved without both parties hating themselves just a little bit, no matter how nice or witty the guy. Secondly, he wasn't even nice. He spends most of the movie getting high with his asshole friends and making misogynist jokes. Sorry, can't excuse that! His humor was ok, but not enough to like him.

The other horrible part was why didn't this character even seriously consider an abortion? There was no real pro-life message, but I suppose this is one of those things you may have to excuse, so the whole plot could happen. Still, we are on shaky ground here! She didn't even consider adoption.

Throughout the whole movie I found myself disgusted at the gender stereotypes they all portray. Both Alison and her sister are often made out to be hormone driven "crazy irrational females" in a ha, ha who-understands-women kind of way*. They explode at the notion of a guy needing some guy time with their friends (come on, we all understand that everyone needs away time). Her sister's self esteem is mostly based on looking younger than she is, and that guys still want to fuck her. Despite being a mother to two kids, she really cares about this that much, really? In one scene, Alison is having sex and refuses to get on top because she can feel him "staring at all her chins". She then goes on to refuse to do it doggy-style, as if that is degrading. Um, I thought it was about that position feels good? This movie reinforces the stereotype of girls as prissy prudes during sex , trying to look hot for the guy, and too insecure to enjoy herself and focus on her own pleasure. In this world, it's the complete opposite for guys: it's ok to be dumb and sex-driven and bond over lap dances in Vegas! Yeah, totally, every guy in the world is into objectifying women, duh! side note: in real life, I have never known a decent guy who sincerely enjoys going to strip clubs.

One scene I did enjoy and relate to, was when Alison is in the gynecologist's office and sees her 8 week old fetus on the ultrasound, and bursts into tears. My eyes got all watery and I almost burst into tears myself. Mark looked at me kind of laughing but like he understood a little too. This movie made me feel very thankful that I know guys that do not buy into this "all males do this" mindset. I also felt very proud and happy that Mark didn't laugh at any derogatory humor, and is sincerely not into that. So this appreciation I already have grew a bit stronger!

There were some funny jokes, but I can't remember any of them right now. Oh yeah, I enjoyed the mushrooms scenes a lot. I suppose I had my hopes too high. This movie is pushing me towards the breaking point of being very fed up with this dominant male point of view in just about every form of media that refuses to die. How can we let men know that being sensitive and a feminist actually makes them the most secure attractive manly man out there? Can we kill these gender stereotypes? HOW?


*note I understand feeling very hormonal, but the manner it was dealt with in this movie annoyed me

freaky friday!

I'm thinking that somebody is fucking with me, because after putting up that last post, I was outbid on ebay. I was outbid and it's by someone who just happened to have signed up today. That thing had been up there like 5 days, and had no bids. This sucks. I hope whoever bid on it is buying it for me, but I still hate you. I know that is absurd to think, but I'm really mad that now I have to pay $20 for it instead of $8, and thinking someone read below and was inspired enough to fuck with my head makes the hurt easier to deal with.

In other news, I just went to the bathroom, and somebody in this building left pee on the seat of my favorite toilet, and it's been sitting there long enough to dry.

Today I feel frustrated.

It's like I want a nice record collection but I don't want to do all the work of looking for and buying them one by one. This is how I feel most days, but ESPECIALLY TODAY.

I'm bidding on this cutie:



So far it's at $.99!

I just want to sit outside with this cute portable record player and awesome summer tunes, but I don't want to spend time at record stores/yard sales/even the internet finding these awesome tunes. I don't know what my problem about music is these days, but I have gotten very lazy and am not actively seeking out anything new to listen to, and mostly all I want to hear these days is Beach Boys and Beatles and old country. And horrible 90s music. The bad bad horrible songs, that they used to play on the radio in 1993, and you never even knew the band's name because that was their only hit. Or you did know and you got free tickets to their concert at the outdoor amphitheater (Better Than Ezra). I like that song by them that goes "I remember running in the wet grass..." because it reminds me of a simple time that seemed complicated.

I think I do indeed remember running through the wet grass, and that makes me remember getting high from smoking Newports. We would say, "I can't wait til the day when we can smoke real pot," and then we'd discuss what we imagined it would be like. I pictured the smoking pot days to come would be like this: I would walk down dilapidated wooden stairs and there would be a fog machine effect going on. I would lie on the floor at the foot of the stairs and look up into the sun, and there would be stars too. Somehow it is both day and night! I'm also inside, but also outside. My mom is calling me to come do chores, but I am in a daze and walking out the door. I leave the door open. The sun reflecting off a red truck blinds me, and there's a hose sitting flirtatiously on the driveway. I walk cooly down the sidewalk to meet up with my friends feeling like I own the world. This sounds like a music video. It probably was a music video, but I forgot.

Anyway, it totally didn't happen like this! My friends weren't INTO smoking pot, and whenever I did, I was mostly alone and depressed and worried.

I'm thinking of all the things I want to do, but don't want to do by myself, and that's the second frustrating thing of the day. For example, I was having fun trying to make music with Mark but it turned not fun when he tried to control the whole thing because he wanted it to sound "good". Secondly, I could buy my own 4-track and make my own music, but I picture myself doing it all alone in my room and a wave of nausea sweeps over me. I have an irrational fear of recording equipment. I wonder if there is a word for that one. I'm going to google it.

Ok, I can't find anything but one of the first search results was about social phobia, so this is probably an extension of that. Social anxiety is such a crappy problem to have, it's the most embarrassing and debilitating problem, and it's boring.

Oh dear, this is another one that sounds interesting in my head but actually disolves into a big whine.

I will finish the rest of this blog in my head.

Something very exciting

I just had this cool realization that the next time something annoying or horrible happens that I can write about it in a funny entertaining rather than a depressing, debilitating way, and that makes it kind of worth happening.

Except it's kind of hard to do right now, because my cubicle only has 3 walls, causing me to worry about someone walking up behind me and reading it. I really want to put a sheet on my cubicle and make people say "knock knock" while shaking it!!

social anxiety vs. not wanting to talk to people

what is the difference? i think i have both. maybe in truth, i avoid talking to people because it causes me anxiety. but, actually a lot of the time, i believe i don't care to, it's just too hard and kind of a waste of time, and what some people have to say is plain old not interesting to hear. not that i don't like said people, there is just no emotional rise to be gotten out of some the inane stuff, the bad kind of inane that is not even entertaining and makes time go by slower rather than faster.

plus, it is too hard to talk when people don't get all the subtext of what you really mean right away, when they're not already on your level that you assume people to be on, it's just too hard and too uncomfortable. so i avoid these situations. i really want to give people credit!

two cats, two facets of me

Ludwig's been making me feel guilty lately, on purpose. It's working. I spend more time with Smiles Davis than him. I have so many more pictures of Smiles. But that's mostly because he doesn't move too much and his eyes are very photogenic.



(those aren't warts on my knee)
He's easier to deal with because he doesn't shed as much when I pet him and then when I touch my face afterwards it doesn't itch for an hour. He's also deaf, so he has the personality of being disabled: he doesn't complain much and is thankful. Ludwig is greedy and wants more and more, but look at Smiles in the above photo and his look of gentle detachment.



Now look at Ludwig. See that intense yearning in his eyes and doesn't it make you a bit uncomfortable. When he wants me to pet him he twists himself sexily on his back while seductively staring at me. Sometimes it's cute, other times it's creepy.

I really love Ludwig and I love his neediness. In fact, I relate a lot to it. Sometimes I behave like this, like when I say Mark's name over and over and pick out pieces of dandruff from his hair. Like when I can't think of anything to write about, and so I write about Mark and his cat and my cat.

But, I also relate to Smiles' dreamy disengaged from reality feelings. Like when people are talking to me but I can't make my brain listen. Like when everyone is dancing, but I can't stop trying to make my mind pretend that I'm an evangelical Christian and how would an evangelical Christian train of thought go. What could I be thinking? I could not think like that!

Have you dated a Ludwig? Have you dated a Smiles? Ludwig would have black hair. Smiles could have black, light brown, or blonde hair. Ludwig would plan things and pay for everything and be very romantic, so much that it might make you nauseous. He would be very dramatic during sex and go down on you for a long time. It would involve a lot of show-offy tongue acrobatics and twisting. Smiles would be very fun and willing to learn, but he wouldn't worry that much about you and you might think it's because he doesn't really care. He also would like to be the spoonee and not the spooner.

They could be anime characters. Smiles would do that big eyes big mouth high pitched screaming thing a lot, and Ludwig would have long eyes and wisps of hair in his face.

boyfriend birthday

Mark is turning 30. It's making me realize a lot of the preconceived notions I had about 30 year olds are not true.

He doesn't pass out early.
He doesn't shower on a regular basis.
He still doesn't have anything to wear to eat with my parents that doesn't awkwardly state, "This is the one acceptable shirt I own for an occasion such as this.".
He is not into furniture and still hates yuppies.

One might say he is still in possession of an ungentrified mind.


I have to get him a present sometime this week. It must express all of the above feelings and the other ones I have succinctly and in a unique alison way ughgghrhg

my #1 cat

Ludwig has a large amount of dignity. I've been with him for 3 years and I have only seen him going to the bathroom twice. He quit peeing midstream and ran to the other room. I walk up behind him eating, casually, without making a big scene of entering the room. Out of the corner of his eye he catches me and immediately walks away like a befuddled bulimic in a binge.

When he doesn't have dignity is when he needs attention. He is only too eager to assume the role of a needy boyfriend. His eyes glow yearningly and his nails dig into my jeans until I pet his squishy head. He turns his head so my hand rubs the glands on the side of his face. He smells himself on my hands and purrs with delight. He has been sitting around the house all day, and my other cat is a rowdy bitch.

frustration

NEWS:
Today I realized another defective part of my personality. I look at what other people do and am like, dear God, I am going to be the last one out of everyone I know to be famous. Or I may never get famous at all. My fame I desire is the kind that is a few google search results with my name, written by other people, and not humiliating. Maybe somebody interviewing me, and they would say, why she is quite a charming, funny girl who has accomplished quite a lot for her age.

1. Googling my name yields no results that are actually me, unlike almost every other one of my friends. To "rub salt into the wound", there are already 2 Alison James that do books.
2. I am the only one that lives in my apartment that isn't moderately famous. (ex. H has been in Reader a few times, HL was in band that people know about (even Marcelo had boughten one of her cds and didn't even know she was my roommate) Even my cat is more famous; well, at least he is more likeable. (Not Grizelda, I mean Sir "Cat of the Year" Ludwig).
3. My boyfriend is kind of famous for music stuff, also graffiti and I picture his friends thinking I am not good enough for him because I am not in a band or have anything going on really.
4. Whenever I think of a way to become famous, or "get my stuff out there" it ends up being like, well I'm not really into that so much, I will get bored. What if I just do whatever I want, offer no useful information, and talk about my sexuality, destroy the old ways of everything, draw one picture a day on the internet, and then people will love me.
5. Then I look at what other people have come up with, like book ideas, or businesses based on stupid kitschy funny crap, and it's all "I COULDA DONE THAT! If I started working on that last year I would already be famous and could quit my job!!!!" and the next stage is: whatever it is not that cool. so phony and I woulda done it better.

So I guess what I just described is a moderate to severe inferiority complex. I need to break this cycle. If I got to quit my job, I could sit outside and drink beer in the grass in the middle of the day if I felt like it. Also, people would think I was cool.

The time is ticking and I am just getting older, and soon it will be expected to be successful in some arena.

EXPENSIVE haiku

gas looks like urine
but unlike urine it is
very flammable

(inspired by stock photo of gasoline on msn.com that i cannot post here)
***

so, since i have to look up everything i do on wikipedia, or i feel like it didn't happen, look at this that i found. ok it might be gone by the time somebody reads this but:

See also

• Culture of Japan
• Haibun – haiku plus prose passages
• Jewish haiku – haiku with traditional Jewish noodging
• Kigo – season words
• Kimo – Hebrew haiku
• Renga – collaborative linked verse
• Scifaiku – science fiction haiku
• Senryu – humorous short verse similar to haiku
• Waka – Japanese poetry, especially tanka
• Bratku - Bratwurst and breakfast meat inspired Haiku

BRATKU????

my ego hurts

Do you ever get scared while beside a person you really love? I probably don't mean it in the way that it sounds. It's not necessarily a fear of intimacy, but maybe it is. It's suddenly realizing that you can't recall where it is that you begin, and that you will never be able to crawl into the other person, which is so frustratingly sad. Being alone becomes so apparent, it's like not existing.

This occurred last night in bed and all I could say was "Wow. We know each other so well. Isn't that weird?"