May 2012
2 posts
“It is only now when I see you that I realize, you have patched through my life in waves.”
Follow. Unfollow. Repeat.
In sixth grade I was beat up everyday after-school from January to June because I woke up over the Christmas holidays of 1994 with boobs and they never went away.
It started the day I graciously held the door open for Timmy, an 11 year-old jerkface, who was the human nexus point for all preteen aggression as was evidenced through his uniform of L.A Raiders cap and Air Diamond Turf II...
April 2012
1 post
Everything Bad for You All the Time.
“Instigator!” I looked down to see the pudgy fingers of Mrs. X dig their way into my lanky arm as she pulled me away from the fight.
“I’m not!” I yelled back, having never encountered the label before in my brief 9 year-old life, yet imagined the worst based strictly on its phonetics. It started with an IN and ended with a TOR which meant that it was not good. Mrs. X was the proprietor of a...
February 2012
1 post
Vanitas.
I recently filled out a questionnaire which asked me what my four worst fears were. In order to not sound like a complete and pathetic douche, I dropped being alone forever from number one to number four and replaced, one, two and three with death, being buried alive, and being wrongfully accused, consecutively.
When I returned the questionnaire to the assistant she glanced at my answers, and...
December 2011
1 post
Survival of the Sexiest.
The smell of used textbooks and carpenter’s glue will always remind me of my first feelings of carnal lust. Repairing art and science textbooks at the boy’s high school where my father taught was my first summer job. I worked monotonously from 9 to 1 to the soundtrack of Metallica’s Black album waiting impatiently for the ringing bell which signaled the end of summer school and the beginning of...
November 2011
2 posts
The Artful Dodger.
It was the wait that killed me. Knowing that I would be in the line-up until the end. The relentless test of how much embarrassment I could withstand before crumbling. The pattern of everyone’s name being called before mine.
I was a permanent fixture in the duo of the remaining two.
I was always picked last for dodge ball.
“Comon guys,” I would complain, impatiently shifting my feet from one...
The Meh Hearted Kids.
My sister is way to god damn nice. It’s as if while in my mother’s warm womb my sister vacuumed all the kindness out of her so that when it came time for me to be conceived the only traits left on the personality shelf were sarcasm and self-deprecation. I’ve made due, but it hasn’t been easy. My family dynamics have me filed under PRICK, Jerkface while my sister basks in the golden glory of...
October 2011
2 posts
I Conscientiously Anything You Want that's Right.
I watched Jane Eyre last night and it disgusted me.
I quickly came to the conclusion that (A) vulnerability in the hands of the wrong person can be like poison, and (B) I am way weaker than I thought I was.
How can that be? I’ve done plenty of things in my life that require emotional strength. And I succeeded at them. I’ve quit jobs, dumped guys, fought with friends, held heads over toilets,...
Eternal Optimist, I Salute You.
Positive thinker I am not. Negative thought producer and worst-case scenario perpetuator, I am. Negativity is a thriving industry in my life. My whole support system is comprised of worriers who think on contingency, covering the bases of every situation making sure to take all the fun out of spontaneity. My friends are worriers. My parents are both worriers. I have eight aunts and three uncles...
September 2011
1 post
My Heart on Your Sleeve.
I’m looking for tangible metrics on how important I am in this world, and I think the answer is in Jimmy Stewart.
My odd family has only one tradition, and it comes in the form of a 120-minute black and white film that you may have heard of. It’s called It’s a Wonderful Life. Christmases at my house, although similar to everyone else’s plentiful picture of tree-lined...
August 2011
4 posts
Run Atreyu, The Nothing is Coming.
I totally live in a dreamland where I think all my ideas are amazing and I can’t understand why I don’t have a team of personal assistants on my tail plying me with coffee and doing my banking.
Somehow when the components of life were being dealt out, I ended up with all the “make shit happen” genes. It’s a perplexing situation for a relatively apathetic person. I don’t care...
My Bells and Whistles.
My ego is huge. And not in the trivial sense where I think I’m better than everyone. That’s just stupid. I mean in the sense that when a blow hits my ego, the hurt spreads all over. It doesn’t remain in the ego bit of my brain, it infects the whole body, mind and soul bit of my life. I was never able to contend with “you win some you lose some”. I need to win all and never lose any, in the...
Untitled, Blank, and Bare.
Just for the record I haven’t taken LSD more than 6 times and I’m not on any psychotropic drugs, but I am about to make a confession that should only be vocalized within reach of a licensed therapist. If I’m lucky, sometimes I can see faces in objects.
I don’t mean like Jesus’ face in an omelet. That’s just ridiculous. I mean outlines of faces contained within a thing in a place. I...
Thank you, Atticus Finch.
Much to the astonishment of everyone I have ever met, I am embracing a new found devotion to romance movies. The cheesier the better. Harry and Sally and You Had Me at Hello, sit front row and centre with me and my new found obsession.
This addiction is largely out of character for my cynical self. Half of my brain is saying “what the fuck is wrong with you,” while the other half - the...
