but now you only call me when you're feeling depressed when you feel happy/ I'm/ so far from your mind

going to blog quickly

Yesterday i worked on my nutso play for I think 12 hours. had trouble sleeping so in it, so ready for more.

And then WHAT happens? Why did I feel so crappy all day? I watched six feet unders for a bit (bad idea when you're by yourself feeling down) then I stopped, got ready to work more (i've been half-assedly "working" for forty minutes or something) and, you know, cried for ten minutes. I wanted to. It was fine. But I had been feeling so elated for a little stretch. Crying about nothing is always such a weird one. I will say it's better than when you feel the same way but don't cry.

Am I really insecure? Does everybody know but me? I was so weird this morning.. I have this boy, man... coming to visit me in January. I know he's excited to. It's this good thing I'm happy about. But I psyched myself out about it this morning. He said hi on facebook like he does most weekend mornings and I don't think he knows but I was taking everything he said (typed) wrong and bad and am i really that nuts? only one Sunday a month - post menstrual? only when I hermit myself away for the weekend. If I DON'T hermit myself away then I'll really go crazy because I won't finish my applications.

Still happy I swear.

I just stress myself out sometimes. A mind is a terrible thing to have. :)

love

Deep thoughts on Era inspired by watching TV

There's a Best Buy commercial now where this guy is a Best Buy worker - we're meant to understand he's from fly-over America and he Loves his job right now ("now" being pre-holiday-time - time to prepare for military leaves --- by the way, LIE, --- the military doesn't get holiday break) --- the military wives are coming in asking for "the one with the guitar" and dvds for the few days they'll soon get with their husbands... he's explaining their situation - they have just a few days - "this is it for them."

All I want to say is fine. That is fine. Co-opt the fact of the military predicament (in this case, "my husband might die, and even if not he won't be here for a long long time") to sell Guitar Hero from Best Buy. This seems very 90's to me --- being touchy-feely in order to sell. And furthermore, no one wants to see Best Buy go under either. We're in a situation here -- we've gotta be American, we've gotta save Best Buy; The way I see it, the advertisement can say anything if it appeals. What I want to say is that eventhough it's another lying commercial - one that plays on American optimism in a semi-sad way-- I think it is 90's like - in a good way -for corporate to be direct-to-consumer with their propaganda. I much much prefer it to the government being clandestine and pro-corporate and diabolical with their propaganda. Lesser of two evils I think. I am thinking of you Barack -- yes, we are all pulling for you --- make it what we want it to be -- disingenuous commercialism straight to consumer. That's the country I love.

Love,
Alexis

Now that it's glorious times again, for the first time...

can Gen X stuff come back in?... like being a slacker?

Oh no, that's right - we're having a waaaaaay different retro fashion........... the 1930's! (Oprah hasn't noticed yet, but it's time for us to all read John Steinbeck.)

Feelin kicky, just a little sarcastic, and in need of a backrub.

love
Alexis

It's my birthday!

Birthdays are fun. Eventhough there is some danger of the end of my evening resembling some aspects of the tv show Arrested Development b/c my mom is taking me somewhere where I think she likes the martinis (I am smiling about this, laughing, not bitching...) it is still my birthday and therefore it should still rock, as I rock, especially on my birthday.

True story: MyfriendHol likes parties. In the summer, she also likes the beer garden. So approx 3 times I meet this new friend of hers CrazyE - a young woman - 25yo? - very pale - that's her half Norweigan - it's hard to see her half Cuban - her mom's Cuban. She is, like MyfriendHol, in an MFA program at Adelphi. That is how they know eachtoher. I met her twice at parties at MyfriendHol's house and once at the beer garden. She seemed cool enough - interesting looks, an interest in cheapy accessories paired with black&white fashion...

So on the first 3 initial occasions that I met her she pretty much talked with only a few pauses or changes about this bf she had in Norway -- and their families knew eachother which was so magical and they all had the same birthdays - in a mixed up way - also, she thought, very magical. The third time she told me about all this I was drunk at one of MyfriendHol's house parties - feeling pretty honest - and also compassionate- and I told CrazyE something like "I don't know what will happen. But the times I've felt that way - like maybe our birthdays have significnace and stuff -I've usually felt later like it was a symptom of something that was wrong - or even missing. I mean he's in Norway?" To CrazyE's credit.... she didn't get angry at me, and I think some people would -- but everyone was pretty drunk and up for the honesty.

So two days later this bf in Norway breaks up with her and she calls me and thinks I am like prescient. Also she thinks I'll be a good listenener, I think, to her obsessive spiral - which I am actually - I get that - almost everyone is obsessive when someone has just really hurt them. Kind of usually an older friend's job to listen to, but she's kind of isolated poor thing. I bring her out to a friend's low key birthday party and they're all pretty brilliant people and they find her annoying but whatever -- they're used to me doing weird thing like bringing traumatized annoying people to their birthdays.

flash forward to the-day-before-my-birthday, yesterday. :) (In the meantime I've hung out with her two more times - over the course of about a year: The first was kind of strange but she was trying to get laid- sure, fine- the second was a good time at a bar where I observed that she's clearly made friends, good, doesn't need me anymore. Throughout the year she stalks my facebook - you know, that's allowed - it's facebook -- and lastly later in the year she seriously freaked out on MyfriendHol in an insane way.)

The stunning conclusion: At 4 am yesterday (not this morning - 4 am yesterday morning- I was awake because I had been scared nearly to death by True blood earlier in the evening.) I go check my email and I have a new post on my facebook wall. It is from CrazyE and I swear to God it reads something like: "hey girl - It's fo sho yo birfday! Wuz happening cuz it's fo sho been a minnit!" or was it more like "Hey girl happy birfday fo sho - we have to party 'cuz I fo sho haven't seen yo fo a minnit" It is 4 am. I don't have time to think about it. My gut reaction is that I am horrified and I delete it.

What a weird girl!!!!!!!!!!! I have told you about basically all of our interaction-we have never sat around speaking sort of minstrel-era ebonics to eachother. I think that would be pretty racist if we did--- but facebook is crazy, bitches, don't forget your girl told you get that dirt off your shoulders!

love
Alexis

laws of attraction

I am avoiding working on my play. It is shameful. But I will work on it tomorrow. I really will. I'll make coffee when I wake up early -- early enough to easily get dressed, drink coffee, watch some New York 1, and leave the house - read over what I've got on the train - and be ready to sit down and make some progress on it as soon as I sit down for tomorrow's great trudge of nothing at all to do at work.

I am very grateful for my job - loosely termed, of course, given the current economy.

So I'll entertain you with tales of dating being the usual grotesque sideshow! I must cancel eharmony. I've got two eharmoniers on the dating calendar now who need to get off the calendar because I'm not attracted to them. The first is nice enough (but what I'm really saying is not enough) but he does a terrible thing of inching closer to me or inching his hands toward mine like he's going to get physical contact secretly. That's all you need to know there. Sigh.

The other is a nice enough guy, but not hot (oh neither is the other), and I try not to eliminate on not hot alone, in case this is a brilliant wonderful becomes hot because of inner hotness person. However there is not hot working against him already. Working for him was the fact I had an allergic reaction to a pine nut on our date and he went to the hospital with me. But the second date revealed that a love connection shall not be.

I'm a little bored of this for writing about it...

oh blah - the people have needs- here - he said he could dance but couldn't actually dance. That's hard to get past.

It was so funny though -- after I was wonderful (read: drunk) enough to gracefully deal with the dancing situation, he said he might have a joint. I knew that meant he didn't -- you know when you have ajoint back home. So, you know: "well, do you have red wine?" "I have scotch" "Okay - sure - let's go have some scotch"

Half hour long conversation with his godfather who actually owns the mess of an apartment (there was an electrical fire there recently) later, God, I just want to pass out - where can I do that? "I have a trundle bed" "Oh great, that works" "But you can't actually use it becasue it's just a mattress box on it" Oh. I pass out in my jeans and fancy gold lace shirt on my back like a plank of wood on top of the blanket and somehow don't move an inch the entire night and just sleep through the awkwardest thing ever - good job Alexis!

So - not being a molester is not quite enough for me to like you. Damn these standards! :)

ANYWAY - I'm not complaining - just updating to avoid working on my play and to try to make the office day end. Who are these people meeting like guys with careers and without trundle beds on the internet?

Do I sound like a bitch though?

Hmmm... anyway, things are pretty good. Better when I actually do some writig tomorrow.

love
Alexis

pretty much one of my favorite things in the history of recorded image and sound

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jv6mEv_rDdE

Re: President Barack Obama

Really can't say when I'll stop feeling absolutely elated about this. Celebrated with M & Z and champagne as it played out Tuesday night --- can't get enough of the New York Times since then --- I wouldn't beleive it til I saw it.

I do hope that he is somehow permanently encased in bullet proof glass. We need him so badly - I don't want an evil maniac to rob us of how much potential there is to fix so many things.

It's amazing. I've been a sucker for him since the beginning because the generalities - hope and change - are good enough for me - they just seemed too good to be true. Who else was willing enough to really attach themselves to Hope - not cynicism. I, for one, wasn't willing til I saw it on Tuesday... I was so scared - it seemed to me that if McCain won, then as a country the USA really would be now no better than Nazi -- basically willing to go in for fear and intimidation as our primary motivators. I was so scared of that, I wasn't going to be too hopeful. Also, it turns out, I didn't know what in the hell Montana was. :) Obama is brilliant - he's once in a lifetime - I am so happy, SO happy that it turns out that with hope and tireless striving, the USA can elect the brilliant person who will affect change. Yes we can yes we can yes we can. (I wasn't sure - so there's a change already.)

I really do wonder how long I'm going to be walking around feeling like this - the rest of my life? (most likely not, right?) I got home last night and turned on the tv to weep with joy a little more. It's so bizarre.

love
Alexis

I love life

Today the landlord came by and took out my air conditioner. He took off his leather jacket so it wouldn't get scratched while he put thing in the hall closet. He has the thickest cartoon pizza-man Italian accent. He put the jacket on me "You weara thisa - but a be careful! there a gun-uh inuh there-a!" It was a joke, but I love life. :)

Yo

Ahhh I'm getting drunk. I feel like a pump up the volume kind of post. :) Anyway myfriendh & G just left - the world series was put off to tomorrow. That's too bad because we would have liked going crazy together for the big enormous Phillies win but there was a (precedented? un-precendented? Fox never said...) rain-out and the game will be continued tomorrow to find out if we're going to Tampa. :) I will be at a ridiculous acting class during the game tomorrow, where I have to walk around a fancy imaginary room saying what's in it. hahaha. hahahahaha.

So anyway internet, I fixed up my kitchen and have had a cold that I think I'll just have for the rest of my life. The show I'm producing impresses me more and more lately eventhough the money situation there isn't where it should be. Boo. But as I, well, said to myfh and G tonight - who even goes to Off Off Broadway Theater? I really don't, and I'm in the interested camp.

XOXO - I'm feeling pretty good and it's not half because of my red wood kitchen island and unbelievable slipcovers,
A

oh hi

I've meant to erase that sept 11 post forever because it's pointless and weird but whatever. I have been seeing the city in a pretty post september 11 way. It's annoying how in the elections afterward the people didn't love new york. that's all. They should have been like - what does new york want -- that's what we'll want --- after all they crashed planes into their buildings - what those people want is worth listening to. Instead greed and bullshit. I'm so glad i'm not at work! That would be bad with my anger. luckily I'm not there!


Feminist corner: I ALWAYS FORGET THIS and maybe typing it, I'll remember - um, in terms of yeast infections, which I'm heretofore going to call "chrysanthemums" so you don't need to think about the operative word while you read this - they're rare but awful and I always forget that the topical cream doesn't really help anything, unless you've already used the larger treatment and actually increases discomfort significantly. I had to leave acting class yesterday because I was going to have a chrysanthemum inspired panic attack.

It was just a long day and I was hauling my laptop around for a lot of it - i was kicked out of the marriott residence hotel which was WRONG... enh... more later.. I've got to tell you about acting too. I'm the oldest! And I already know how to act! So i better work on my play like I said this was all about. :) :) :)

le stress even during le sabattical. Blame les chrysanthemes.

okay then 9/11

I don't have much to say except that I still start to cry when I see it falling. It's been seven years so I guess that it's always going to be something I can't watch without starting to cry. This was very weird when I saw Farenheit 9/11 in LA and people laughed at George Bush reading the goat book and I didn't know how they could do that so close on the footage of the towers falling, I've never felt disengaged from that image. I've never compartmentalized it. I'm not much of a compartmentalizer in any sense - I'm not congratulating myself or anything- but I can tell that some people can see it and put it somewhere different than "no" which I've never had any reaction but.

One day it will be just a famous day in school that kids aren't quiet during the assembly for. That is history and that's how it goes - again I'm not being self-righteous because I can't help crying when I'm looking at it. It's not a relevant thing - it's just a thing. I wonder though -- that school assembly thing is just a theory i just wrote. Maybe that footage will always be so potent that there will always be some reverence for it. But I don't think they should show that footage to kids. On the actual day I felt the media was traumatizing me - showing it over and over -- I'm now watching TV and letting myself see it though.

If I watch tv shows about 9/11 on 9/11 I don't quite know what I'm doing. Torturing myself? So I think it takes the place of Yom Kippur.

I don't know.

a thought from supposedly writing at the least regrouping land

Writing is basically a triumph over anxiety - at least in my case - I'm thinking many people's cases though.

What you're up against is basically a fear that somehow you won't finish. You're stopped by that. Don't start and not finish. Don't take this somewhere where it will be harder to finish. But you must write things down anyway - and trust your subconscious just a little bit.

Create a structure and hope that you cannot ruin it. Hope that going somewhere else won't ruin it.

I mean this is particularly true for me probably. Me of will-just-fragment-and-fragment-if-you-let-me.

I went to a chiropractor and it was cool. Shoulder hurt less than constantly for about five hours. back to same old problem today though.

this shoulder problem is because of that stupid skiing on ice decision which I did to feel hardcore last March. dumb.

So anyway, I need to buy a heating pad.

and don't forget to write and finish. And not worry about finishing before I even sit down.

there's no possibility of not checking my email and getting up and smoking cigarettes and stopping and walking around though so don't even worry about it. Take a thousand hours to write it - you took time off after all.

love
Alexis

Briefly

So my eharmony bf came over to watch football last night which was fun. We also made plans for me to cook and to watch Sopranos friday.

However, at 4am last night I asked him if he would shave that goatee off on Friday. I've told him I don't really like the goatee before. He was so insulted that he left! At 4am!

I'm kinda like, not dying to apologize because really? leaving? isn't that more dramatic than I want to get into. I must be crazy waiting for some kind of man man that deosn't storm off like a "woman."

Am I wrong?

I'm too bored about this to write all the details.

But maybe I'm really horrible.

Still -I think leaving was seriously excessive and that it's not my turn to apologize. It's only hair! I just want to see what he'd look like without the hair on his chin!

Leaving? At four in the morning? I don't think i like him anymore although watching football was fun. I think he said something about how he won't be berrated--- I wasn't berrating. I was only asking. I don't know -- I htink this is in the realm of simply too sensitive. even if there was some comparable thing - which there isn't - but if there was and I was insulted becasue he said at 4am, lke "would you cut your hair in a bob for me - you can bet I wouldn't get all my clothes on and go over it.

Also, this writing thing is fits and starts.

XO
A

Hello everybody

I am back from Texas. I am on my leave of absence. It's about as wonderful as I thought it would be so far! I wrote two weird pages of hopefully the frame for sexual tension a rama so far today. The frame is fear of flying - oh man. And now I'm back at the internet, obviously, and not good - so just for a bit and then iced coffee and then put in an album and then power through til therapy sesh and then after that dinner with myfriendsH&G.

God I love you all so much. Life is good -- travel is weird - that is going into my "real" writing though. Still I'll tell you I have become so insane that being anywhere but New York (not because it's NY necessarily but just because I think it's where I live) feels weird. Like I'm like - how did I get here - I'm so many miles from home - how weird. Who am I? What am I? Where am I? hey kids, don't take drugs. :)

I am happy right now.

XO
A

Big Question

Why the sad music when they go in or out of Inside the Actors Studio? How come?

Observation: I can never decide how I feel about Sarah Jessica Parker / Sex in the City - it's kind of annoying how Sarah Jessica Parker ALWAYS says so many times how she's nothing at all like Carrie - her bad habits, the way she thinks... I guess it's the truth though so, I dunno. She annoys me always pointing that out - she's like embarrassed by Carrie - - I'd be embarrassed by Sex and the City a little too I guess - honestly, I can never ever decide how to feel about SJP.

Now Angelina Jolie is on though and that's pretty easy - I lover her. She's crazy, she's gorgeous, she's crazy, then she decided to have a million babies. Love her. Works for me.

Chrissy, we are like soul twins - most of the stoof (that's stuff) I was thinking of typing about, you have typed about before on your blog. Like people who work for collection agencies calling your phone. Par example.

Have you seen the documentary "Janis" - they're showing it sometimes on VH1 classic. So, I've seen it before. Mostly incredible performances, and, in the middle, an unreal awesome interview on the Dick Cavett show freaking out America - followed quickly by her attendence of her 10 yr highschool reunion - on benzendrine I'm guessing. She's very excited for the reunion on Dick Cavett. When she's actually there, in the next scene, she's trying to be the star she is, but is obviously experiencing the difference between your nostaligiac memory of how subversively awesome your difference was versus how painful wholsesale rejection actually was, and that thing about how places won't let you be nostalgiac about them when you actually return to them - the places, they're like, "ha,ha no motherfucker your memories are real and they live right here bitch."

Anyway, what's with me that I rememebred this scene and wouldn't go to bed until I saw it. I crave to see the real of the bad. oh, life.

TGIF - I'm at the acounting office this week (and next week?) and that's why nothing to give. leave coming up. Secured theater internship. Going on date this evening to beer garden with the astoria eharmony hippie.

now to change clothes.

if you read this in time - should I wear the borderline trampy black american apparrel dress? I mean I'm going to so whatever. ;)

love
Alexis

All you need to know

is that I probably dreamed I was having sex with you last night.

Sex on the brain.

So happy KFR made it to Paris and is living on an Ile in the Seine. So jealous too. Tonight I will try to dream that I am in Paris - there'll probably be some sex too. As I fall asleep tonight, I'll think "Sex in Paris Sex in Paris'

love you
Alexis

da da da da (like trumpets!)

Who is the penguinhostage????? I predict I'll find out tonight at the Marriott.

I feel fabulous. I was most certainly not going to blog again until not in the funk of previous.

This week I have second shift reception which means I do not have to be at work til 11:00am. What is the sweetest thing? The sweetest thing is 8am to 10am in your own house. Oh it is another fucking world of great.

Updates. Robert of eharmony closed the match after my super honest answers. It was either the not wanting to talk about writing or the truth about the size of my family. I think it is funny. Much easier to be "on to the next" on the internet than in real life. The next lives in Astoria, plays the guitar, loves road trips and is a certified massage therapist but has a real job and everything too. His punctuation is having of not one flaw at all!!! My concern there is that he seems just wonderful like my last significant relationship "partner" seemed who pre-dates this blog and turned out to be something very close to certifiable. But you know the great thing? The two great things? a) Maybe he's not. And really maybe he's not -- that one was not so good at punctuation by a long shot. and b) HA! I have my own place to live that's not in much jeopardy. I am NOT MOVING IN.

Work guy continues to stink like a festering ball dug in near Hanoi. I continue to work reception and have turned my energies to perfecting seething wrath. Of the options, it is pretty good. He looks Guilty - oh it's a little bit fun, you'd see if you could be here. You don't need all the details. You should note that I really didn't mean it when I called the therapist a retard weeks back. Actually he is the light of the world and we have been spending large parts of sessions plotting how to make Workguy "wet his pants" with messages sent interoffice mail implying I'm not afraid of bringing the ol' harassment charge. I won't, but scaring him will be SO FUN. I will probably do this closer to when I LEAVE FOR THE LEAVE - yippee.

I went to a music festival over the weekend that ruled courtesy of myfriendh and her husband G bringing the most awesome connex around! I saw radiohead two nights in a row. the lightshow was so beautiful it gave me a dream about getting the most raging tattoo all over my back. Do you like that for one sentence KFR?

More later.

XO
Alexis

So

(Sometime like 9th grade I once told someone, in an email, that no email or correspondence should ever begin with "so" and I've always remembered even though I don't know if anyone else thinks that or if I do for that matter)

Tonight is writing night and I am going to use it for just blogging and blogging because that is my pleasure. It looks like the leave of absence is gonna work. I need to send someone a revised ten minute play I wrote by Friday and tomorrow is out - b-day dinner for little sis. But knowing the leave is coming and is gonna be so sweet, I want to just do continuous writing here for hours and let it be self indulgent let it be about work let it be not imaginative let it be the relief of my lonely of my worried of my misused.

A long way back, when I started at the company, a lot of the blog stuff was about judging what people talked about all day, the other floaters. I was back to that today. It's weird because I also like them, a LOT. But I'm pretty much on the verge of tears (this day, today) and some days - with depleted seratonin like I have today - every commonplace comment feels like, what does Hamlet say about thousand and one daggers or something -- well they feel like dagger-ends. At around 1:45 one girl's boyfriend texted her a Michael Jackson lyric I don't remember now and didn't recognize. It was like "I want to rock you like a something" or something like that - I can't recall. But I was at the only computer and she asked me to put it in google so we could see if it was Michael Jackson. Strangely, the only website that came up to confirm with was actually some girl's myspace. She had her picture of her looking alluring enough I guess - can't say I remember what she looked like -- and this sort of general "want you sexy" quote and her interests were aperture and some other photography stuff and certain genres of music and I said "I can't stand it - everyone thinks they're unique" and this floater said "But why does that bother you?" Speaking of Hamlet, that is the question.

It does bother me though - to think of the 50 million web pages or whatever it is and the lists, the self defining -the list making as if to say "I am."

And in terms of the conversation happening around me, I don't like discussing excercise, or stores having sales, or what foods are healthy though I do it, oh do I do it. Nor do I like discussing dating eventhough I most certainly do when it comes up - it would be wrong to deny nice girls commiseration - but my pride rebels to having situations reduced to platitudes over and over again. I'll jump to make the platitude in fact. "yes--- well I don't know - the boy who likes me, I don't think of him when he's not around, and if I have sex with him I'll have to make myself to some degree - I spend a lot more thinking on the one who's not interested. It's how it goes - things'll work out." It just hurts me a little to tell things like that every time. The girls want to do this - and I guess I have a problem that I don't really want to -- they want to know about eharmony, they want to talk. I want to talk. But the talk all makes me feel like a myspace page. Because what's the sound of one hand clapping - what's the sound of three girls talking about dating in a corner office in Rockefeller Center.

Remember back in the day at Chey's house? There was some talk I could get behind. I'm an adult now, in the workforce, and the talk is not fun like it was when I was 14 - 18. I knew such brilliant kids. I was so lucky. We were unique and fabulous. In that corner office I feel like a myspace page. So much lost. I tend to think falling in love will be would be the closest thing to getting most of it back.

I hope I fall in love with this person named Robert from eharmony. We haven't gone out yet but I like his face and he's 6'2". He is a vegan - that can be his one flaw. It's not even a flaw except that he'll be extra skinny. I haven't fallen in love yet with anyone from eharmony.

I hate how I tell people that writing is one of my interests and then that means that every time we see eachother they ask me "how's writing? what are you writing about? how's writing going?" It makes me want to take a vow of silence. Do you know what I do? I shake my head back and forth in the universal symbol for no and look at my shoe. This has been happening and happening. Do they help me out? Do they say "oh... wait a sec - it's probably not easy to talk about writing - that's why it's writing." No, never..... they just look at me shaking my head until I say, "I really don't know ... I mean... would you please tell me something about you that makes me understand something about what it was like in your body and head at some time, maybe today but maybe not, and how it wasn't something small nor something fake that you think sounds "interesting" but something not exactly changing exactly but included the notion somewhere in it of changing? the glimmer of a changing feeling and changing moment - the glimmer I'm saying, the flutter, is all" I don't say that.. I try -- I wind up telling them I slept with a work guy and that's been making me a little depressed and then I see in their face that nothing like that has ever happened to them and I steer the conversation elsewhere. On the date last night - this guy takes us the greatest places - awesome rooftop bar! - poor thing - he had to tell me about other people he'd known and their awful situations. And to think I can't feel much for people who don't have any situations. But situations mean everything to me.

So when Robert sent me my short answer eharmony questions today and one of them was about what interest do I have that I'd like to share with my partner. (eharmony is just about getting over saying "partner" a lot - and also that you're too pretty for this aren't you?) I told him how it's been rough being asked about my writing like I have an answer, but that what I want is to get to know someone and get close to someone so that it wouldn't even be weird to show them some writing, imagine that? That is why I am so looking forward to him getting back to me and us going out - because I'm really glad he picked that question because I was so primed to give the totally honest answer.

I'm addicted to email. So eharmony feeds that well. I'm just addicted to being contacted and it's so lame and it's all of us. it's actually not lame. Humans are a bad model. We're messed up dude, needing contact or perishing and perishing from simple feeling so bad. There're fun things about technology don't get me wrong. You know how I feel about blackberries though.
And stuff like this: walking here... this guy beeped and beeped til he could plow through us pedestrians who had the light and the guy next to me hit his car and said fuck you while I yelled something about us having the light and indicated the light.

Just anger all the anger. When they made me they made a person with a little more anger. When I'm angry, I write on this blog, I bitch to a friend. Sometimes the friend is really positive and then I feel like, you don't understand - I am angry. I can't not be. Do you think I don't know I have a charmed incredible life? It's that I have no concept of enough. I need. I'm human. I hate my routine. I'm angry.

What IS the point of therapy - to understand the reasons you, say, feel angry? To go back to childhood and find its beginnings, the beginnings of being ignored, of being on your own, of people beeping while talking on their cell phone and plowing through when you have the light.

I dunno.

Time for a beer.

hangovers make me want to write

Call me Ernest Hemmingway, Dorothy Parker, F.Scott Fitzgerald, Dylan Thomas, take your pick.

I'm considering erasing yesterday's posting because it's so self indulgent and I would defnitely edit it out of the consolidated book form of my blog that my wonderful friend K thinks it would be interesting to create. She has a friend whose blog about being proudly fat got her a book deal - in the words of Emeril, Bam. I still don't know what exactly K means in terms of this blog -- I just kept saying, "What- like take out all the spaces?" -- I think she said "Well, no. Obviously not." I think she didn't really know what form it would take to try to make it into a one-piece thing either but thought trying would be interesting.

Direct address: Publishers secretly reading my blog with avid interest: A) Disregard yesterday's babbling - I don't like that one. Of course I'm good at a lot of things that no one in the world is gonna reward me for beyond the reward of not being a drone schmendrick. B) I am extremely open to reading my blog posts aloud one after another for a charity event or whatever -- you've got the marketing team - let's get this party started. :)

Ha. Further to lovelife drama, I dunno. I confronted WG about being a dick. He admitted to it, while throwing out excuses from all corners of the sheltering sky like always. Him: "I did open your pictures by the way -- I just had to delete them becasue they filled my email account" Me: "Well, okay -- but that has nothing to do with not speaking to me or acknowledging me even in my direct presence for over a week following that." Him "You're right you're right. - - Oh you know I was away for a weekend though right?" Me: "Please don't insult my intelligence. Phones work everywhere. In the history of busy no one's ever been too busy to say 'I'm busy - thinkin of ya." Him "you're right you're right." On and on - he even offered "I'm not very upfront. I'm sorry. you're right. I'm wrong." I don't know -- I offered him the excuse that perhaps he was seeing someone else and seriously which he then said was true. Maybe it is maybe it's not because he's pathological excuse guy and that was me giving him the best one. High chance I'll have to sit in front of him on Friday at work. In that event I need one of my girls to call me. I've been generating a script in my head for the conversation for him to overhear in that event. I think I'll mostly talk about other great dates fictional or not, and ask my friend to ask about him and then i'll just say something about oh yeah--- probably not the moment to discuss it but donezo and last conversation reminded me of teaching 6th grade when you ask the kid -- how come you didn't complete this project when you know I specifically addressed your needs in creating it and they answer something about their homelife and some car accident a year ago and their blood condition and you're like, "no, but this wasn't homework, this was classwork, and this evasion excuse tactic is not serving you" except in this case I am not a teacher and the person in question is not in 6th grade, is actually a Harvard MBA. I kinda want to do that. Sorry my fantasies are so pathetic but we've discussed this -- a leave of absence is gonna be amazing and I'll re-direct the creative energies and love will steer the stars.

forcing myself to date this other guy who's very nice and takes me out and bores me to

oh more soon. gotta database.

love
Alexis

Right

I'm doing some database thingy but let me finally finish that last post - I went to the kitchen and I never came back!

I just erased what I was writing. Let me not extemporize yet.

So, things I have been good at:

1) Singing. So long ago. You will never see me not kill at karaoke though. That is what became of that.
2) Acting. I was pretty good. Give me a scene against someone brave and I'll still be good right now. Oh and let me get a little worked up throwing a beachball back and forth between us or something first. :)
3) Verbal sections of standardized test.
4) What the fuck are those words on the GRE though? They aren't even in books. My vocabulary is diminshing all the time. And also those words were cheap shots. Nonetheless I test well. Never underestimate "haven't said b in a while" in a pinch, test-takers of the world.
5) Dancing like a hoochie. Getting low.
6) I am good with some basic salsa moves in fact. I utilize that physical understanding whenever it is time to dance. I dance from my butt and I highly recommend it. It's the best.
7) I will play defense in your pick-up soccer game. I won't let them get too much by- and I never played on a high school team and only played every other weekend at my dad's under duress when 13.
8) Being snotty with people on the phone.
9) Being snotty with people in general (maitre d' much?)
10) Explaining to peole how they're treating me wrong after the time is up on them maybe magically figuring it out themselves.

bad at?
1) well actually being snotty with people in any context besides them wanting a table before there is one available. I think it's easiest just to be nice to everyone and sometimes I even forget to be cold and bitchy to people that my dignity should prevent me being nice to. I just forget.
2) uh, the math section. Like that has to be said!
3) leaving the house in a hurry
4) choreographed dances
5) playing piano - also anything that requires patient dilligence that I wasn't already good at.
5a) besides working with certain difficult children
5b) except for the time I lose my patience with these too!

God isn't this fun. I'm so glad this is so INTERESTING TO YOU.

Please make your lists too.

I'll be back with more good. there's other things I'm good at. Oh - often generating a song to ggo woth a word that was recently said or NOT SAID I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS SONG FOR A MORE ABSTRACT REASON YOU'LL NEVER KNOW (nor I)

I'm gonna flood the blog!

Oh -- actually no I'm not -- I thought I'd post now and then even hit you with a rant I wrote at the last writing night about how 24 year old hotties who don't understand my need for prep time can eat a dick because I'm taking care of the whole operation here you dumb fuck and eat it more harder if you don't see how I'd like some blue on my eyes to match my shirt while I enjoy the fruits of my planning, penishead.

However, I left that notebook at home.

And so, I continue my thoughts on the next step for my life, worried that y'all are concerned I'm talking about trying to act again which I'm really not.

things I have been good at in my life. (I am now going to the kitchen for a sec...) more soon.

I have so much to say

And if I do then you will see how hard it is inside my head. I just want to stay up and drink this beer, smoke cigarettes, so I'll try.

I think I made a big decision. I think I will ask for a sabbatical from my job. I hope they don't laugh at me. But I want two months off and I want to go to acting workshops (especially movement!) at night and write in the day and then come back to my job when I freak out about money. There's no reason why not. Even if they won't take me back, I should be able to get back into the workforce. There're jobs aren't there?

I saw a play tonight.

Last week, at this time, I was having all eye-looking-into sex with the guy from work. The next day, I sent him some photos of the wedding weekend I'd gone to a weekend before. I haven't heard from him since then. But today I got to see him cuz I was working front desk ("got to" is sarcastic). I ignored him and he ignored me right back. Professional I suppose, polite.

I put that here begging you to think I'm saying that I want a sabbatical because I'm strung out over the guy and can't stand it.

Actually I want a sabbatical from thinking of my life in these terms as they've been for an age now.

I want to make up a character - I want to make up two and put them in a situation together. But my mind's both cluttered and closed, with my routine, and the narrow prescription I've put on being able to get liberated from it.

KFR may write me that I'm way off -- in a looney state.

I think I'm not, but I'm really scared to ask for the leave.

I have been reading the advice column of a cartoon cat for the last two days.

I think I should take a month or two off for a workshop. Have a reward.

I think I will not write a play now if I continue working there.

Tonight my friend brought me a bag within which were $4000 worth of amazing shoes. She's been working for a shoe advertising company since she graduated college a year ago. I am the new owner of a wardrobe of the most fantastic shoes I now desire a wardrobe of clothes to accompany.

Not for nothing the work guy, don't get me wrong. (I want him to see some of these shoes on me - with sex comes the absolutely most unuseful kind of thinking!)

He would ask me about my writing when he did re-organize his plans enough to see me. Shortly after asking he encouraged me to take the LSAT. It seemed he couldn't understand how I was so smart. When I told him that for early grammar school I atteneded PS 158, he said I was joking. I couldn't understand. I said "Why would I joke about that? What's the joke?" He told me stuff like theater and writing makes a better hobby and I told him, "Yes, I'm well aware."

It is this or law school. There is no way I'm going to law school without a boyfriend, hot and supportive. Sorry dudes, I don't know what wave of feminism that is - no wave I think, but that's where it's at on this cruise ship. (I'm a little high)

I am absolutly exhausted with thinking about myself to this degree and that's why I think the break from work is necessary, not frivolous. I also think I deserve it. Deserving is a funny thing. I don't deserve it more than Iraqi civilians with their lives torn apart or my cabbie just now who has only been in the country for one year and a half and had absolutely no idea how to get to my house. We spoke a little French.

But if I can possibly have it, I may as well to stop thinking about starting a family when the why and the how have yet to appear. And I can do it - somehow I am not from Algeria driving a cab, and dear god I know I'm not a genius. I actually insulted the playwright tonight when I met him, I think, telling him that I understood how he did the timeline so the character was actually alive when that character was dead - he said so immediately. I don't care. I just want to be creative since it's at all feasible, rather than be dressing up at work for the sake of nothing, well, like everything else for the sake of expression but it's pointless to express with your shoes to the financial whizzes who don't understand why people need to be different or, yeah, are addicted to cigarettes.

So sure, the boy has something to do with it. But only that, well mostly that, fuck his improv. Do you know how I understand theater? Do you know how you use it for a hobby? (ha ha -- I'm just pissed. Still all props to people who at least know they need to express themselves somehow. Just not this guy who's dissing me.)

And oh the theater people make me crazy. Truly - how they think you can just not have a job!!! But I just want a couple months. Please.

So that is my plea to get out of myself. I'm not making it twice, right?

love you
Alexis

I have dozens of thoughts

Did you ever get a bug bite on top of a bruise? I think the bug went for it cuz there was blood all spread around under the surface there like a party.

Does loving to sleep make you depressed or can you just love to sleep?

I like to hang out with boys. Other times, I resent how they are stupid. For hanging out, they make me laugh. More on this sometime when I care.

Fashion on the subway this morning very bad aside from one tatooed girl. Other than her, very bad.

People and ideas. Civilization. People and their ideas -- they don't bother thinking about what will happen. America -- interesting idea. Made us all weird and into success and having our own houses and weekends and stuff. I don't think the founding fathers thought about weekends and VCRs and toys for the kids and this whole nuclear family thing but it's a thing hunh? Is anuybody thinking about what's happened because of these fucking blackberries by the way?

Not that committed to making a lot of sense on here this morning.

XOXOX
Alexis

Becasue I'm the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now - so hunt me, because I can take it

No... actaully Batman is those things.

Spoilers - nothing but spoilers here.

Okay, the best parts of this Batman:

1) The Batman's Jawline.
2) As in the last one, the Batmobile. Steals the show every time it seems to me. i'm cuckoo for the Batmobile. It makes me squeal.
3) Heath Ledger's performance

Why I love Batman above all superheros and also superhero movies: (I think most people do. Who compares? Do not say Spiderman because puh-lease, and sometimes you find someone who likes Superman - that's adorable and quaint but that's also patently wrong.)

Batman is so great, and it's particularly exemplified in the Dark Knight, because he, he and Gordon, he and Dent, he and this Morgan Freeman character "Fox", are continually trying to be clever, out-smart, get a step-ahead and failing - not just failing but actually making things much worse, resulting in innocent deaths and guilt that makes life, really, infinitely, harder for them. Interestingly, when characters go "villain" it's not because of guilt. We let Batman shoulder that, becasue Batman's whole deal is that he's the superhero of guilt, can take on more guilt than others -- since he's had a lot of it since back when his parents were shot -- thus he chooses to become Batman (see Batman Begins)- no, they turn villain when they are so hurt they want vengeance. The "good guys" in Batman are carrying wretched amounts of guilt - and they just continue trying in these second-hand-is-ticking scenarios to outsmart the evil mind (Joker Batman movies are the best because Joker is such a comprehensive "evil mind"), and they keep failing. It's so true to the largeness of the idea of a battle between good and evil, Batman is, with all the fuck-ups there-in and all the nice people getting killed. Like even when characters do stupid things, I'll take it because Batman movies are all about these weird moments when your character is tested and you're surprised by the weird result.

Like okay, they leave the 20 year cop w Joker w his handcuffs off. But I thought, well, okay, they figured this is the guy they can leave here -- and they only had two and half second to try to get to the oil-barrell warehouses and had to split up the rest of the force so i can forgive them a split-second best-they-could-do decision - he's not a hothead - so w/ less than 2 seconds, they thought, he's got all this experience and he would not let this guy get away.

But as it turned out -- Joker was a step ahead with the taunting and got under his skin.

I shoud stop - nerding out on Batman. I really want to see it again.

You can find me this morning searching the internet for how it is Commisioner Gordon isn't dead though -- I get the hoax, but I don't get how we saw Joker & his men, turn and shoot at the mayor, and saw C. Gordon jump in the line of fire, and then a little while later he was totally fine. I guess it just grazed him. But since Batman only discovered seconds before that the officers were actaully tied up upstairs and the officers down below were actually joker & co. I don't understand where there was time for this conversation about faking Gordon's death. I guess after the grazing? I guess. I don't mind the story line but that wasn't fair how they wanted me to accept a reversal of what I'd seen without any flashback or anything at all. I'm the most prone to go along with crazy Batman shit of anyone but I just didn't get that which is a bad sign.

Also I thought it was hard to accept so late in the story that Ramirez and that other officer had given up Dent and Rachel to Meroni. As I said, I love Batman the mostest because people aren't who you expect in the moments when their characters are tested but they really didn't show any of the conflict for this and just used it to explain the plot after the fact and that was weak. They should have worked on that to have a more near-perfect movie.

Heath Ledger was so good that it makes you sad. I know we all would have given him lots of massages - we all would have teamed up to give massages 24/7 - so he could get some rest and get his head clear - if we had known it was all so rough on him. Poor Christian Bale is so torn up about it, he apparently beat up his mom.

I have a sickness

and only Christian Bale is the cure.

I was "this close", very very extremely tip of the tongue close, today, to saying to the chinese lady next to me whose paper I was reading over her shoulder "Isn't he beautiful?" when I peeped his photo in there, but I stopped myself.

The other day this woman got on the train and she was completely shrouded including her eyes. A gauzy black ghost. She moved around a lot too.. checking out the map and things. I could not look away. Totally strange because in NYC, this drew more attention than anything else could have. Made me think why are we fighting these people in wars. We obviously have zero understanding of eachother. I could only stare, astonished. Then she floated off. I was relieved because it's weird staring at someone whose eyes you can't see.

there was one

lady with great accessories - actually two different bags both of which I was significantly envying and yet she had a really awful dress on. (the subway report)

Too many G-damn people on 49th street and 6th avenue at 8:45am. (49th st. report)

I actually DID go out with someone else on Saturday and it was fab - we saw the Broadway musical I wanted to see. WP (work person) called,which disrupted my blow-him-off plan - which was based on him sending texts for me to "watch" - so he swung by the neighorood Sunday - and I told him it's probably gonna fade to black or something soon given that other people ask me what I want to do on Saturday nights and I'm most likely going to follow up on that. He took it in stride.

And then there's even more dating possibilites. Dating discussion is closed on this blog now for a while. I TCOB - there's stuff going on -- I'll complain when there's not and that is the status!

I was going to tell you some other stuff, like what I drank last night but now I'm going down to do front desk.

XO
I love you

From the elevator

Everyone's fave feature.

Me, looking pretty damn stylish today, holding a canada dry original sparkling seltzer water.

Kinda worse-for-wear maybe 60 year old somewhat jovial but also a little bit "sigh" man in light blue button down and slacks.

Man: What you need is a hypodermic full of scotch so you could drop in that soda and no one would be the wiser.

Glad to know we're on the same page you and me, old dude.

yeah, no , I know...

I know.

What do you think of this guy?

So that guy I was freaking out over (WHY? - because he is my absolute polar opposite and is physically strong)- here is what's transpired since my day of hell.

Umm... he followed through with a phone call Thursday and texts last Sat. morning - he came to Astoria that night, kisses and fun - we went to the beer garden and met my friends - fun stuff - he hates smoking! He hates pot smoking! Hilarious. I am eating it up -- polar opposite!

What a nice night and morning.

End of morning Sunday he got a LITTLE cagey but I kind of made jokes about it. We, at my instigation, tried to make another date, but seeing as he has golf very early on Saturday, and "never knows when [he]'ll have to stay at work til 10:00pm," it was this vague-ish next Saturday night plan that we made, and I also stressed that he needs to call on the telephone and not count running into eachother at work as that.

So he did call last night as he was walking home from an improv rehearsal and this is how that went:

Him: Hi so... uh, how are you - where are you?
Me: The Marriott Residence Inn.
Him: Oh right your writing thing.
Me: Want to come to a party I don't really want to go to that I'm about to go to?
Him: no, no - I have the trainer at 6:30am tomorrow.
Me: Yeah - I don't want to go either that's cool. I mean I am going though. Anyway Where are you?
Him: Walking home from an improv rehearsal..... So the weekend's looking really messy... I have golf first thing in the morning - like I'm literally renting a car at 6:00 in the morning- and then a friend from undergrad is coming in Saturday night...
Me: Oh,.... okay.... and I guess you want to get one-on-one time with you friend...
Him: Well, it'll be like a small group...
Me: Ummm... ok....
Him: So let's just keep it open and watch your texts...
Me: Uhhhh... (nervous laughter)...well... Hey text me at work so I'm not bored.
Him: Well, things have actually been really really hectic at work...
Me: mm. (long pause) well, text me anyway.
Him: Okay watch your texts though.
Me: Well, yeah.

We got off the phone and I realize how annoyed I am.. really annoyed. I called back because I can't take this anymore... he didn't pick up. I got in the cab to go to the party where I'd know no one and would leave after ten minutes without talking to anyone. I called again. I said I couldn't really hear/ talk in the hotel and thought maybe we could talk while I was in the cab.

Me: Have you sent texts I haven't responded to?
Him: No. No, I just meant that I know you have to delete them...
Me: Yeah. So listen I feel like, I feel like if you really wanted to get together and spend time, you'd find a way we could do this... I don't want to... I don't want to...
Him: Well, I'm just having a really hard time planning the weekend. I have this golf thing and I have this friend coming and...

Magically, it is the shortest cab ride ever and this is basically as far as this conversation gets before I have to pay in a big messy hullabaloo and now I am on the humid horrible street. I find a stoop.

Him: Frozen grapes are the greatest idea.
Me: yeah.. yeah.. oh I just read something about fr--
Him: What?
Me: Oh just.. just.. nothing, really...
Him: Just regular green grapes and put them in the freezer... and they are fantastic...
Him: Yeah I just read this thing in the New York Times about frozen blueberries.. I mean it was ten foods you should be eating. Swiss chard, and beets but I don't like beets, and frozen blueberries...
Him: You know where they got that article from?
Me: (I do know but say:) Where?
Him: Men's Health. It's like my Bible.
Me: I'm not surprised - I mean I saw it in your house.
Him: The NY Times takes almost all their Health articles from there.
(Honest to God we now talk about the location of magazine publishers and Conde Nast for a spell.)
Me: I mean, I just.. I think you're putting me in a position here and I...
Him:
Me: I mean, did you tell me to keep my Saturday open?
him: Umm.. no, ithink I just said to keep Saturday real.
Me: (like "to the moon Alice!") oooohooohoooohoo. I am trying not to act crazy here.
Him: I don't want you to act crazy either.
Me: I bet you don't. (deep breath) Well, I just wish.. I just would like... I mean I'm going away a week from Thursday -- God I am really hating New York tonight--- wait... motorcycle... motorcycle... and now this fucking truck is backing up... dammit... anyway... I'm going away next weekend... a week from Thursday my friend from california is flying in and we're renting a car Friday morning and going to this wedding and we won't come back til Sunday... and I would just like to know...
Him:
Me: (exasperated) Honestly, I mean, if you want to get out of it, just get out of it..
Him: I'm not trying to get out of it - it's just I have golf really early on Saturday...
Me: I guess this is all starting to seem pretty needy but...
Him: I'm trying to ignore the neediness...
Me: (gasp)
Him: I'm joking.
Me: Okay. okay but maybe it's needy but...
Him: I'll try to work on it -- now that I know that you're away next weekend... I won't leave you waiting on texts on Saturday
Me: My life is so complicated. I hate it.
Him: I know.

And there you have it. Scene. Life is too cruel. There are 3 different boys/men off the top of my head dying to see me on Saturday night. But I am doomed to be so very one-at-a-time. My idiot therapist who I haven't seen for two weeks thinks that in this situation (which is basically the exact same situation as two weeks ago) what I need to do is go out with one of them on Saturday, but he is obviously a retard that needs to be dismissed/replaced. I don't want to go on some other date on Saturday and so I will not.

The good news is: I remembered this morning, oh yeah!, I am going to get tickets to a show early saturday morning at the TKTS booth and do that in the nighttime. Therefore, when my boyfriend here (ha ha ha) gets in touch about whatever the hell he's doing, I'll truthfully be held up at the theater til whatever time. But the big question is : is it imperative that I toss the whole thing right this second - it would be about the first time I let go someone I was still interested in because screw them and their nonchalance. Do you, my friends, think this is the moment to do it, just do it, my feelings be damned?

God I apologize for this friends. Because it is frickin pitiful, and because it is my heart.

love
Alexis

That's right bitches

(you know if you're my reader that I love you -- you're only my bitch cuz you're my reader - who else are my bitches, you see?)

Anyway, that's right bitches-- sometimes I get strung out over guys when I have drunken sex with them and they don't call in a timely way! Oh judge me -- oh call me obsessive -- I am obsessive. Oh call me absurd -- fuck you too!

But anyway, I still haven't finished my actual sentence: That's right bitches sometimes when I get strung out over a guy it goes so far that I can't stop thinking about it and crying on the subway and obsessing all over the place and then I even call an ex who broke up with me and demand comforting. Do they resent it? MAaaaaaybe... Can it possibly matter? Don't you understand yet that nothing matters at all?

I'm going to blog for about four hours this morning -- should be epic. I am working front desk reception today. This guy was from work by the way. Because I'm nothing if not careful with my delicate emotional balance. So I have to work the front desk and hope he's not too obnoxious when he arrives, leaves for lunch, goes on assorted other outings? Do you know how hard it is to guard your power as a woman who likes sex and attaches intimacy to sex? Very effing hard. Do you know how hard it is to guard your power in business? You need an MBA. And a sharp and probably linear way of thinking. I'm actually not slightly concerned with the second one --- Crazy as I am, some things are just not my area in a way that is so blindingly obvious, I can't even worry about it in the midst of worrying about everything under the sun except them - them is the one thing - them is being linear enough to go get an MBA or something- I need to stop admiring it though. Which you'd think would be easy but, well, there's always room for surprises if they are bad.

Speaking of bitches, Eff Gwazdor - incommunicado. I really wanted him to look at that video of him and me that Maddie made -- I've done everything but call on the telephone so that is my next line of inquiry I guess. But I miss him lots. I think he is really immersed in his work. I am very jealous because I am really immersed in crazy... anyway though... everything will be alright. Singing Suite Judy Blue eyes has been helpful so far this morning. As is typing like a maniac. Thank God for the blog - said it before and say it again.

This is how Eff and I became friends:

I was in tenth grade. Eff was a junior. I had always known him, because we both went to TollGate Grammar. Do you think it's at all worth nothing that our elementary school was named "TollGate" as in a Toll Gate? Well, I do. Is that a proper name for a school? Is that inspiration? Do you know what a Toll Gate is? It's where you pay a Toll? Should the only metaphorical association of a Grammar School's name be paying? I could be really wry and "if the shoe fits..." Too easily is my point. Shouldn't someone have cared that it's such an easy negative to draw?

Anyway, I knew Eff already because we both went to Toll Gate and it was small. The popular kids -- were they popular? What was that? I will call them "the kids easily elected to student council becasue lameness loves more lameness" always made him treasurer. And his campaign was always really cool -- there were posters for it and they were always intricate and wonderful.

My mind's off on a track about those student council kids from his grade. Dreads? A band? A band called, what?, "Tophie and the Sea Monster." - ? - "Tophie and the Spaghetti?" "Tophie and the Moon?" That Tophie kid was cute no lie --- I was busy thinking I was a classical singer in high school. I was never friends with those student council kids or their fringe element friends with (totally conventional) jam bands. I never really knew Tophie but he had that skin that's softer than mine by a factor of 5 and tans brownly. I consider that a superior race to mine - those male soft browns with the sinewy calves and upper arms. (the girls like this are bitches -all - just kidding :) ) Do you think he's married now? What kind of girl? Sort of peaceful and awesome? What do they talk about? I bet they go on great vacations. I bet they camp and I bet she sleeps late. I should have made a better go at the suburbs and the Greatful Dead. I shouldn't have romatacized and become this crazy thing I am.

Anyway, both Eff and I took the bus to school. The first day of school, at the end of the day, they announced, I don't know, MAYBE, your bus number, and showed some diagram, MAYBE, of where your bus would be now on the bus-parking-circle that joined the high school to Timberlane Junior School (reasonably named-- or at least not named TollOnYourLife- which actually that one maybe should have been named - woof, Timberlane! I didn't have real breasts yet and that was not fun.). But in all truth I don't believe there was ever a diagram at all. I'd remember that. And there wasn't one. I think actually it was more like: on the first day, all the classes were five minutes shorter so that there was addtional time for a second homeroom when all your classes were through. And at this homeroom, poor little Ms Klima tried to give information such as where your bus was, by reading off bus numbers in the order that they were parked on the circle. But only a really linear person would have sat and known their bus number for one and understood what the order of the numbers as read by ms Klima had to do with where the bus was for two. There's probably two kids like that, with the program like that, in every homeroom. Besides those two, it was pandemoniom, of course, and everyone in the whole school running out to their lockers, and the bell already rung and quick quick quick to the busses or you'll miss them.

My locker was about five lockers from Eff's. Or four. And I knew we were on the same bus. So I asked him if he knew which was our bus and he very frankly agreed that it was impossible to know! And he asked what I thought we should do. And I said "We should stand at the end of the road as they're all leaving..." (they had to leave one at a time around the circle) "and look for people we recognize from our bus, and when we see that, flag down the bus, yell, and jump and stuff." And Eff said it was the best idea he had ever heard.

Eff knows I'm in love with that story. It really is how we became friends. I don't know if there's any point in examining why you love a story or a thing-that-happened. And in the state I'm in, have been in, it might make me start crying (fyi: I don't think ANYONE at work so far realizes how close I am to crying. If you have problems at work get a blog I tell you --- total saving grace) But I love it a lot. I think it might have something to do with well, you know. I guess I think it stands alone and I can't explain it. He thought it was the best idea ever. We did it and it worked.

love love love.... more blogging soon... i want my fingers not to cease typing today.

it's always the same

Cabbie last night listens to a priest in California on the radio, he says. 2011 will be the end of the world and there will be a world wide earthquake and the dead will rise from their graves and the non believers will have to stay on earth in torment and terrible suffering.

Me: Well, lots of people are living like that right now on earth.

That stopped that, basically and I was glad. He kept giving me cigarettes too and stopped the meter way ahead of my house. What a (yiddish word must exist for it). I was gonna tip him anyway, but I played along. I said "You don't have to stop the meter - that's alright - when the end comes it will be okay that you made money."

The thrill is... back!

Children... please gather around my flouncy hem... I have to tell you some good news... I have been loving drinking for the entire week. The thrill is back.

Oh, KFR -- I have a hangover and I feel giggly and good. I am assigning myself one email to you at 2:15pm.

Love
Alexis

Just one thing. (?)

I'm waiting for my aircon to cool down my room.

But the just one thing is lemme tell you, the toughest part about being single and being a secretary is feeling like you have to answer for it all the time.

I don't think I can blame other people for this. As often as not I'm blurting things out, defensive when other people have a different way they're making it. I assume I have to answer for myself and sometimes I'll just blurt/ cut to the chase. It's pathological and I think I'll try to stop.

At my party this weekend, I embarrassed the crap out of myself suddenly blurting out something about "When I sprained my ankle, I was dating a millionaire, so he got me a car service - I don't know what I would have done without it." It's so weird that I said this. I suppose I'm ashamed by that entire affair. Leave it to me to address shame by trying to act like it's nothing and leaving people speechless. I have to say I didn't realize immediately that that whole thing was antithetical to beliefs it turns out I hold, and deeply, but blurting out that it happened to people who don't know all about me - I won't necessarily have a chance to get to the "then I realized it was antithetical to me" part and so I just sound pretty ridiculous. Maybe even pathetic. How awful.

My little sister is going to Yale and today was her graduation. More no one particularly making me feel like I have to answer for anything but more me feeling that way anyway.

I'll come back to this tomorrow I suppose. I bet my room is cool now. I am merely saying that it sucks I don't have one thing to point to that would make me feel like people weren't judging me as coming up a little short. Also, I probably have to suck that up, and not do this "I'm still naive and that's okay!" thing, because I feel bad about the entire millionaire fiasco and I think maybe in this, my twenty seventh year, I ought to resolve not to engage in things that feel like they may have some un-righteous element that figures large - because even if I don't yet know HOW it will turn out to be wrong, I should still be able to surmise that it will somehow and I shouldn't do things that compromise my ability to feel proud, since natural pride is what I seek.

Anyway, Summer is here. my apartment is a great one. I'll be dating. watch this space for what happens there. (can't I not? really....)

love
Alexis

Reality TV

I cannot figure out if this is two years ago or one.

If you ever didn't believe me when I told you going home regreses me, here is some evidence. What we don't have evidence of, actually, is that I'm not regressed all the time! I'm ready for my close up Maddie DeMille?

Eff, please come home. You are the idol of my family.

Although, I think I look pretty in this vid. (full disclosure- I'm so vain!), believe me it's a paen to YOU.

sigh, love,
Alexis

You know,

it is so easy for people to feel threatened.

I was thinking about this this morning. I started thinking about gay mariage and why straight people care and , clearly enough - in fact I think they say so outright-straight people who object think the existence of another kind of marriage threatens their kind of marriage. I think everyone should individually think about what they want a marraige they would be involved in to be. I think this would make for better marriages. Fat chance-ola on most people giving this emotional energy and consideration, but if people treated their lives and their choices as unique, then I think they'd be less threatened by other people doing the same.

I'm not exempt from sometimes feeling threatened by difference. I think there's no crime in stealing what you like and discarding what you don't like from something you've observed is a different way and feel threatened by. I am so modern!

Because I have nothing to do here, I've been following every turn of this thing that was in the Sunday NYT magazine. This girl got blog fame, blogging about her personal life, also being mean about things on Gawker. She wrote a 9 out of 10 narcissistic essay all about it... ten pages long about two years od her life and how bad it all got - internet addiction, losing privacy, etc. Then people ripped her to shreds: "get a life" and outrage at the NYT for giving it so much space and "get over yourself" and how many times the word "I" and all this... Now she's still employed as a blogger, so it's clear enough it's a spiral situation we have here-- justifying and unjustifying and driving herself crazy.

My overall take is that people are just terribly threatened and largely attack when threatened. In retrospect, I'm sure she wishes she'd done a little reseach in the field - since she does have a problem with making stories excessively about herslef.


But overall, I certainly wasn't outraged by it! I'm narcissistic enough myself so maybe that's why I'm not that threatened by narcissism. I'm more threatened by stupidity - because dude, I am smart. So, yeah, I got no problem with personal essays or personal essays that run in the New York Times, or narcissistic young women in crisis with writing skills. The essay is basically like being inside her immature crisis, but that's interesting enough! And tells us something about how fucked up things are -- considering all the problems in the world that angry old people were just dying to point out (outraged-ly -- there's a war! climate change! --everything else that's covered in the hundreds of thousands of other words in the Sunday NYT! Those things: It's very hard for the smart individual to know if there's anything she can do about them --- I thought the girl revealing the extent of her introspection and self-obsession commented on this -- although she probably should have mentioned it was commenting on that if it was, which she didn't.)

Many people thought she should turn her talents to work that helps the world. True enough.

I would like to know how to do that.

It's very confusing all the different value systems out there - how deeply flawed some of them are... and the staggering rewards of signing up for some of them which are shallow. Of course the rewards are rewards from within the same system (i.e. work with money, make money... deal with fame, be around fame....)

Anyway, I think the girl needs a vacation and people should let her be. She's going to drive herself mad.

I also think it's sad to see the way people think as soon as they feel threatened. It's so useless feeling superior. Feeling superior was a crime to which she was (at least attempting to be) coming clean and people went and felt all superior on her, and it is ugly to see.

God knows how much I hate the girl at work who talks shit about me. I practically shake every time I see her.

Love to you
A

How to cope with your job over the summer

2 pints Stella at lunch.

That is how to cope with your job over the summer.

!

I love you.

-Alexis

Thoughts

First, there is a disaster:

When you google my first + last name, this blog can actually be discovered and that is all Eff Gwazdor's fault for convincing me at some point, long ago, when I still living in the disgusting hole and felt like the most anonymous person who ever was, to join technorati - which i did and made myself his "fan" and through this I and my blog are now identified online - eventhough I have "declaimed" my blog etc. upon this discovery.

So, you all can do the math -- my favorite thing about this blog was it being secret.

So it's probably near its demise unless in the next few days the problem is solved, which it probably won't be.

I can't have acquaintances able to access this much information about me. This is what I always feared Eff! -- If you see our old discussions about public and private, my big concern was that what is unknown about one's opinions and stance is what gives one power and the potential for dignity among the throngs who don't know or need to know the heart of who one is.

So that's the big news in cyber space.

Other thoughts...

I was reading Craigslist missed connex yesterday and one was written to a "big girl" who the author frequently saw crying on the train. The author stressed that he/she (I couldn't figure -- didn't really check) was NOT attracted to said big girl, and didn't want to help in any real sense, but that he/she understood the feeling -- it was, he/she said, the feeling of being broken and alone in the big fast city. If he/she could say something it would be something like "I get it, sister."

My feeling about this is I HOPE the big girl does not read this missed connections post. That post is just the coldest comfort ever and I think it would smart lots more than nothing at all. It's like, oh great -- my good cries are fucking observed to the point of being posted about on the internet but the closest I am to the connection I'm missing is that someone wants to anonymously call me "sister" from their computer because everyone else is just a miserable usually. At least that's how I'd feel if I read such a thing and it was me. I don't know. Maybe I'm being too hard and the impulse is something in itself. But I feel like this is a problem -I think it's a problem to express cyber-ly and not in actuality.

The other night the millionaire (we're through incidentally - came to my senses - it - my coming to my senses- had something to do with a statement he made about increasing revenue but not cutting costs - this being how he proudly intends to function - closest thing yet to personal philosophy sadly) and I started watching "A Scanner Darkly" and I wondered if he knew the biblical reference. He did not.

When I was a child I thought as a child
But when I became a man I put away childish things
for now we see as through a glass darkly
but then with love face to face.

I forgot how much I love that. The movie wasn't particularly what we sought to watch but connecting the phrase "through a glass darkly" to anything technological is right-on enough in my opinion. That's what I'm saying about that craigslist post -- that's what I'm saying about everything all the time!

Course the Bible even goes so far as to say that language separated us from eachotehr - because people got the problem from the beginning didn't they?

If this blog were to coninue I would want to be FUNNIER! We're so overdue for a quiz or peom on here.

I will try to think of something cheerful today. not erasing this yet, but man, maybe I should --- for all I know ex boyfirends are googling me all the time, lookig for exactly this evidence that I continue to struggle with meaning and laughing and laughing and laughing while they enjoy their work and excell in useful studies!

:)

love
Alexis

p.s. Can you tell I'm feeling better?

la la la la

Myfreindh and her husband G are moving to Astoria!

So THAT couldn't be better news- I'm so excited -- I'm kinda serious about this opening a bookstore idea... I've been thinking about it ALL weekend.

I want to blog but I'm un-focused.

This morning I was ont hte bus from Jersey to NYc listening to Blur The Great Escape... I wish my bus thoughts coud be channeled direcetly onto my blog. That would work!!!

That's a great album and makes me think of how I love Farley - also Amy. It's just fun to remember your favorite album of your sophomore year and the people who said things like "Isn't this the best album ever?" or sent you postcards from stores that had the band on them.

I'm at work and laying low -- actually literally hiding.

XOXOXOXOXOX
Alexis

I saw my favorite play last night

I really think it is my favorite play. "Top Girls" by Caryl Churchill.

I think I will be freakish about it and try to see it as many times as I possibly can while it is on Broadway. Next time definitely from a much closer row.

It was great to see it because as you may have noticed I'm in need of inspriation and while it doesn't send me off writing or something, it actually puts me in that mental space where I feel like there is a such thing in the world as an "idea" -- something intangible that you can only write a play around -- not just say in a sentence or write off with a sentence. Being depressed lately has felt like there's a summary for everything and it's "So what?" or "what's the difference." Seeing this play is like entering that so-hard-to-find-mental-place that's more like "Yes--- I agree? Can I 'agree' with dialogue and scenarios? Yes. I know what this is, I see what this is about."

I'll spare you my review of the production becasue no one knows this play. I was so lucky to see it in London years ago. I need to go back and sit in a row where I can see anyway...

XOXO -- thanks so much for sending little thoughts that you hope I feel better by the way. I'm totally impressed with myself that I kind of do! I actually am seeing a real life therapist this evening because I was so tear-y earlier in the week I decided it would be a good thing. We'll see! Wouldn't it be awful if this blog became things I said in actual therapy!?!? I promise not to do that.

love
Alexis

Nope, not Iowa either

0 for four and I better figure out how to get in next year!

Work it out

Sometimes doing a state of the Alexis address is very purging and in that way helpful; other times, it doens't really get me anywhere, and I'm not clear enough on anything to really work anything out. But let's do it anyway - eventhough I just feel like a directionless hundred ten pounds of girl person (so attractive - so fantastic in the sack - and so on-my-own regardless!) these days.

So, I actually hope I get into Iowa and if I get in, I'll go. If there is one thing I've realized about Life Right Now it's that while I might have moments of great aspiration, ambition, and hope, New York doesn't need me here and it's more important that I as an organism find a place to do some kind of craft than that I be in New York City.

If I am accepted to Iowa, which I really may not be, and I go, that will be sad that MyfriendH will have finally moved to New York at the same tiem I'm leaving and that wonderful A & M will be here in about a year. But I'll have to go, if I get in. For those of you moving here, I'm the original New Yorker - I understand New York better than you - New York loves me more than you - and even in my absentia these thoughts ought to haunt you! I'm fucking iconic and just because only you and me know that doesn't make it less true.

I haven't been able to write at all lately -- too much in a rut, too circular my thinking, too bored with absolutely everything. too desirous of someone to do my errands with me.

i mean how it's so crazy -- when I think I have someone - in whatever sense - just someone thinking about me, in any way prioritizing me - sudddenly I can go buy a new dresser, buy flowers, keep things together, produce writing... and how, when I don't, I'll watch TV all day even when the sun's out and drug myself to bed as soon as appropriate. What gives? you know --- it's really not strange at all. I've been on my own for I think three years now. eventually yourself doesn't seem like enough of a person to be championing day in day out hour to hour.

So, here's hoping I get into Iowa guys... otherwise you're gonna have a rough time listening to me try to keep myself a happy girl on my own and get next years applications done while not-giving-a-shit-about-anything for the next long while.

I love you with all of my heart.
Alexis

Today

for breakfast I had goldfish and ginger ale on the train. I feel like a real New Yorker when I eat junk food on the train at 8:30am.

Last night when we met for writing night, I posited that I'd be happy to reschedule actual writing and go eat drink and vent instead 'cuz I was frickin suicidal. J felt suicidal too and Y had lots to talk about and it was defintiely the thing. So now Saturday is writing day and that's cool.


Love
Alexis

So I'm pretty morbidly depressed

Hate my job. hate simple maintenence of clean clothes, bills...

Rejected from all schools but Iowa which I may still be rejected from and don't think I want to go to if I get in although maybe, maybe.

Desperate to feel intrinsic to something.

Was just starting to go down the - my-millionaire-boyfriend-will-be-able-to-help-me-out-with-this-crushing-ennui-sponsor-me-teaching-or-something-like-that road only for him to completely freak out about commitment - quelle cliche. So that's on this weird hold while he figures out God knows what. His shrink has been enlisted to the cause. And I feel like whatever -- and also dissapointed quite a bit - and also now what? And also why bother?

So, I don't know what can make me feel better. I almost got a puppy out of all this - from said millionaire - but then I had to tell him , no -- that I'd rahter he figure out his problems than pay me off with a puppy.

But I think I'm having some kind of no one to take care of or help crisis. For seriously.

Also I'm bored of drinking. Now tell me that's not sad.

so boo-hoo. I won't kill myself and I'm sure this will let up soon enough.

love
Alexis

I've been up having had this dream about everything that I am going to write about to KFR -- maybe I'll be able to get the last of my z's after getting it down. It was about death along with everything. That's nice about the subconcious. So much more imaginitive than the conscious which is a pretty dull consciousness comparatively when it comes down to it... e.g. "How am i? Good. I mean -did I tell you about this good thing? I really am good, but also some bad things happen -- did i ell you about this bad thing --- not tat I can't handle it because of course i can. In fact here is my plan about that... oh yes,. yes and I had a different dissapointemnt, did i mention? Also, I have some anxiety but i have a gameplan for how to address the anxiety blah dee blah dee blah blah blah blah blah blah."

Back from a week with Grammy and Steph. That was nice. We ate and ate and ate and ate. Grammys on prednisone andI stopped smoking for the week so it was really pretty impressive.

Sgt. Nicholas

was shot and killed in combat in Afghanistan earlier this month.

It's shocking and sad. We were friends, and he read this silly blog when he was over there. He was a wonderful person. Calm and sweet.

It is a terrible terrible loss. He was so young and he didn't expect to die.

I feel deepest sympathy for his family.

I will never take ambien again

A word and a food that I hate: chipotle. Would chipotle taste better if it were pronounced chipotle as in Otle? - not chipotle as is in ot-lay. No. But if it were chipotle as in otle, then at least it would sound a little cute and then at least the word wouldn't bother me.

-my thoughts drunk and weird at 4:45am thanks to ambien

They say I have to update my blog.

KFR now goes by "they" I mean.

Well listen, I went to Mexico, I sprained my ankle. Things are happening, spring is coming, C and I had a PERFECT time on vacation, and I am happy.

Later today I'll have the pleasure of asking the gynocologist to look at my ankle please. Hee hee.

And so, here is a picture in which I believe myself to look like I've lived in Havana for ten years.



Here is a picture from the same night but big smiles.




For the sea lions, the views, the suntanning, the boating, you have to go to facebook. Sorry. (KFR you can use my password and go look again if you want - the pictures are normal sized now.)

Oh, and let's see if this works. Here's some pictures of C and Snoop! She had to talk business with him the other day!

God I am so glad this blog is the secretest thing ever

Seems like famous last blog words but really, who do we have here: KFR, Gwazdor, myfriendh, I think occasionally my former closet-mate from work may check what's happening, and sometimes Nick in Afghanistan (Nick, I'm reading a book about Vietnam I might send you if you would ever possibly want to read a book about Vietnam while you're in Afghanistan... anyway, I am reading it specifically with the intention of understanding what it might be like to be there, because the style of it - memoir- is probably better for me than other styles.)

So anyway, just you five at best. Some other people at work must know the name of the blog from seeing me look at it... but I really don't think they read it or care.

-redacted-

Here's an important part of the post though: Most Men are Fucking Retards who should suck on something til they choke. You know that dude I keep trying to end it with the one who is enirely inapporpriate for every reason there is a person can be inappropropriate. Well, he sucks. Now it's just ugly. (saw all this coming which is why I'm not morally reprehensible by the way!!!! Never forget that!!!!) Despite how I saw all this coming and that being the reason that I'm not morally reprehensible, you might be interested in the details somewhat -- in the grotesquenss? He won't leave me alone. I have laid it all down so many times it's quite annoying now. I told him I don't want texts; I want nothing. I like him but we're nothing to eachtoher, not really, and please leave me alone unless you have soemthing to say besides how am I doing becasue I have no reason to worry if he knows how I'm doing. I said no coming to my house and I take my clothes of for free. I told him that in some religions that is your reward in heaven - I just have told him so many times that the only thing that would be acceptable to me would be if he somehow planned something for us to do, told me the date in advance and we actually did that thing together and enjoyed having the experience together (getting a beer would count here too for what it's worth) but instead what we have happening is a whole whole lot of texts that say "how are you" and "what's happening" and "so what do you think". So I re-stated my fucking case. I said, listen, I already have a lot of friends I love and don't get to see most of the time. This is retarded. "How am I? If I'm fine, so what? If I'm not, so what? Don't call me if it's not to do somthing together... oh and again that thing can't be have sex at my house" He says he understands. He says, okay, we agree. Then at the end of the day he texts "Is it taboo to ask how your trip to the museum was?" YES! YES IT FUCKING IS. So, he's really direct about how he's just trying to keep his hand in in case somehow he can maybe get to have sex... I don't even know. It's sad. I'm such a sucker for funny directness that I still do like him... I mean I have an antipathy and I wouldn't want to not have it. But the directness is getting demeaning and depressing now. I told him no more again so I guess that's all done but maybe he's a personality disorder type to add to my list of lovers with personalisty disorders and will be texting to ask how I am tomorrow. What a jerk. These bare minimum people are upsetting. Oh p.s. He asked what it would cost! I said a lot. Then I said a thousand dollars. That story cracked Christine up. What a loser. When he texted abotu the museum last night I texted back "Long story You'll have to get me a drink and I'll tell you" and he wrote back "Get me bring me take me." So you see how ugly now? As if I'm somehow gold digging, when I've never been brought, given, or taken anything. Apparently not wanting to be hounded constantly by texts about how you're doing makes you a golddigger now. Some men are really really really self-centered.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO please write me an email if you are bored today my sweetest dearest
Alexis

Less depressed. Lots going on. going to mexico next thursday. Cable and HBO get installed next wednesday. A few little plans over the weekend. Friday the tv actually gets mounted to the wall. Tomorrow I have a surprise personal day to do what i wish with. Possibly i will go to the natural history museum by myself and high out of my mind. :) (that was an accounting of days backward from next thursday to today in broad strokes)

Maybe I'll even join the gym on Saturday, no kidding.

I guess that's all I have to say? Lately I've been feeling like I'm almost always thinking on several levels at once.... that sounds like something someone who took too much acid would say and then the ramblings would start, but i have no ramblings to add... that's just how I've noticed i've been feeling.

XOXOX
Alexis

I just thought that

I'd tell you all a little about the epinepherin pen.

It's so fucking great for saving your life.

When I accidentally eat pine nuts, what happens is, my throat feels rough... I wonder if it's for real... monitor my ear canal.. if this is at all ring-y, then yes it's for real. If my lip starts to feel swell-y oh shit - things are really bad. No lip swell this last time. That was good.

Despite how I feel like I always ask everywhere if anything has pine nuts, despite how I usually carry around my epi-pen -- the times that I eat them I haven't done either thing.

So next comes the car ride or cab ride which is always a half an hour or more to my house to get the epi pen and stick it in my thigh.

Someone is with me and he talks about stuff and I can't hear a word because there is not a thought a thought in my head, just efforts to evenly breathe.

Until the 25th minute of the ride when the vomitting begins.

Then I finally tell the person that I really can't hear a word they're saying. And they say they don't care they were only talking to distract me. Duh. Also - yeah -- what's going to distract me from the constricture of my throat? But I breathe breathe, vomit, breathe. So overall, the effects are these - rough throat - indicative I suppose of a, thankfully, pretty gradual constricture of the throat, serious stomach trouble - not really much like nausea, more like proclicity to vomit and vomit greatly, and the adrenaline my body must be producing of its own volition which I guess is not enough to stop anything but enough for me to have a pretty rapid heart beat going already --- which I don't understand because supposedly my blood pressure is dropping all the while -- but I guess I do pretty well with my own epinepherin until I get to the shot.

Get home, vomit vomit vomit. injection. Sweet sweet amazing injection. Instant relief. You're supposed to count to ten so it all gets in. I'm in no danger of pulling the needle out too early, the relief is so sweet, I could leave that thing in my thigh all night. What an amazing, incredible thing the epinepherin auto-injector is.

Now my heart rate's jacked up but my body remains exhausted from the exhertion of approaching anaphylaxis (side note -- I am naming my children anaphylaxiss and epinepherin, respectively) Epinepherin has no psycho-active effects, it's a body-high kind of thing. I'm somewhat tingly, able to converse and what not... but it's like a conversation with someone who just finished a big sprint or something --- without the sprinting! Not bad.

Except this last time I really came down from this shit. (I do sort of hate to call it "this shit" eventhough it sounds good, because like I said, the epinepherin auto-injector is the reason I live) I can't remember if I always have this, or if it was only this time, waking up with this utter naarcissist who was pressing for sex while I was recovering from the reaction - who then, in the morning said, "part of me sort of hoped you wouldn't sleep with me and you'd teach me a lesson."

Yesterday was the come-down. This statement of his pushed me over a certian edge and I started crying - Me: "Please treat me like a person and not a representation of women. Please -- for a minute." Then I pulled myself together and we got coffee. I didn't expect htis to be a bad thing but then I was jittery the entire day and emotional in a way I haven't felt for a really long time. Later in the night I actually started crying really hard for no identifiable reason. I feel somewhat out of touch with my emotions that I need to inject myself with epinepherin to do this? But also no -- I don't want to feel like that!!!! At all!!! But it's an interesting thing that I'm thinking about and don't understand.

XOXOX
more soon
love you
Alexis