Friday, January 29, 2010

I am

midway through this book, Netherland, that is made for me - the narrator is an intelligent but lost financial businessman in New York, and the book is being called the first great September eleventh addressing novel of this our post 9-11 era, and Obama read it and recommends. So, how interesting is it to read this passage knowing Obama read it and loved it? :

(This is after the narrator's wife tells him she won't come back with their son to New York from London by employing an intense political argument, and calls him Conservative, )

"... I should have seen Rachel's telephonic outburst coming, not least because the imminent invasion of Iraq had stimulated an impressive and impassioned opinion in practically everybody I knew. For those under the age of forty-five it seemed that world events had finally contrived a meaningful test of their capacity for conscientious political thought. Many of my acquaintances, I realized, had passed the last decade or two in a state of intellectual and psychic yearning for such a moment-- or if they hadn't, were able to quickly assemble an expert arguer's arsenal of thrusts and statistics and ripostes and gambits and examples and salient facts and rhetorical maneuvers. I, however, was almost completely caught out. I could take a guess at the oil production capacity of an American-occupied Iraq and in fact was pressed at work about this issue daily, and stupidly. ("What are you saying, two and a half million barrels or three million? Which one is it?") But I found myself unable to contribute to conversations about the value of international law or the feasibility of producing a dirty bomb or the constitutional rights of imprisoned enemies or the efficacy of duct tape as a window sealant or the merits of vaccinating the American masses against smallpox or the complexity of weaponizing deadly bacteria or the menace of the neo-conservative cabal in the Bush administration, or indeed any of the debates, each apparently vital, that raged everywhere-- raged because the debaters speedily grew heated and angy and contemptuous."

For my part blogsters, I've been thinking about intimacy. I've written about this before, but intimacy is wonderful. In my life as it is, it takes its best form as talking after sex - I did this last Friday and my was it fun. I am personally unfamiliar with intimacy's seeming apex, Marriage. The heart of it, I find, is the numbers - being listened to and listening. Concerned with the concerns of another and having your concerns being concerned with by them. Funny that I get the best intimacy in funny bust up sextimes. I keep trying to dump my therapist and he won't let me. He has no sense of humour (compared to me). I think it's hilarious.

I'm feeling really happy. I guess something must be wrong. :)

I have made the comments registered people only. When the comments were these crazy japanese ... or were they chinese? things, I was frightened that they were a terrorist cell communicating by code. I saved them in a word document, I was so concerned about that. That's my deepest confession. But I don't think I'm paranoid - it was just very strange and then there was that person who said he was going to bring my writings to his class? It was strange. I'm not crazy.

I love you.

Alexis

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Friday, January 15, 2010

Hi blog

I feel like writing. Jeez... one would hope! - I asked my friend with the painting biz to hit it and she did and sitting around in the living room is really nice. Plus full-spectrum lights - did you know about these?

Talked to my sis who needs her MCAT study guides sent to her friend and, more importantly, needs to move out of the house. My mother is no kind of person to live with. My mom used to have a bedroom completely mauve and ostentatiously. Mauve venturing to pepto. The carpet: wall-to-wall of course - bright pink-mauve... The bedding: patterned like one of the wallpapers - one of - there were four different, all reflections on mauve, and purple with a dash of light blue flowers vines, dots, and wavy lines. The ceiling was light pink mauve, the blinds of the skylight, remote controlled, the same mauve but deeper. Mauve curtains like one of the wallpapers, pinker variety, on the bay window across from the bed with those same mauve blinds, mauve patterned chaise lounge under the window. Tonight while I looked at my tasteful multicolored living room, I called my sister, to remind her to get the fuck out. She thanked me for the reminder and has been on craigslist - so that's good news.

But she's full of memories - she doesn't need me to tell her anything - except that hearing from eqachother is obviously relieving ;). Sisters are great. Poor Maddie. She's doing her college applications and, word is, also going nuts / impossible to talk to. In possesion of my step-dad's credit card for her applications, she is running up a tab at Abercrombie and Fitch. Don't ask me how, she makes those clothes look cool. Anyway she is having her senior year complete with the screaming, and refusing school. I remember it well. (I went though - oldest - it's different.)

So my mother is an actress now - did I tell you? It is like she's joined the circus sort of... apparently she's got herself a pied-a-terre somewhere - maybe downtown? and just stays in the city to take her classes, do her shit. Oh God you guys, the best part - for her main class she's been assigned the mother in "night, mother". fucking perfect. Mother drives daughter to suicide. It's actually hilarious. Carrie Fisher quote: "If my life weren't funny, it would just be true, and that is unacceptable." But anyway... OF COURSE my mother is getting some kind of Meisner technique where she stands with props in rooms of our house repeating single unconscionable lines that would drive you to suicide repeated constantly - like something about "eat[ing] the last snowball sugar." I'd love to meet her teacher.

And then Steph tells me that our mom cut the dog's bangs and was saying "I am the greatest. I am just the greatest - look at what I did to his eyebrows? I am so great." (She did this exactly to me once by the way, plucked my eyebrows and congratulated herself on being so wonderful. That's the kind of thing that only happens once, wouldn't you say?) and then she asked my step-father "How do I feed him?" I said this is what really got me - the helplessness. I don't like it in my conscience. I told Steph "She is really remarkably self-involved" and Steph said "Yeah, I told her - I don't even mind selfish people. They know there's other people and they say 'yes but I'm selfish.' She doesn't know there's other people."

It's so fitting that the Smiths have come on my itunes. William, william it was really nothing... lol

i don't dream about anyone except myself

Morrissey!

Well - I have to think about walking to the supermarket. No uniting theme tonight. Paint job, my crazy mother. XOXO

Monday, January 4, 2010

All the news that's fit to print:

Good thing: I had sex last night. Omgosh it was great. It was with Ryan. (This post is so far in the style of the guy that writes the "I'm a guy" column in Glamour magazine, but I'm not a writer anymore - everyone knows that ;) so it's no big.) Yeah, gosh it was just great. He was also very very pleased. GOOD SEX. WHERE IS MY BLUE RIBBON TODAY?

When Ryan called Christmas Day I said "Well I guess you could come to New Years Eve at my house and be my weekend boyfriend." I thought this was a pretty benign offer since Ryan lives in Montreal (when he's not driving all over the place - picking up craigslist riders, camping wherever he finds himself) When he called a couple days before and said, yep, as long as I agreed he was getting in his van in Montreal and heading down on New Years Eve itself, I felt somewhat apprehensive about him coming. I kept saying "Well I hate for you to drive so far" but he was glad to.

My apprehension in all this, which was outweighed but existed, is that Ryan and I are different in this way that feels very essential, elemental... However, with reminders to myself to chillax, it was possible to recognize that he knows that and thinks that's fine so I should know that and think it's fine too.

Ryan loves Burning Man. Ryan loves cuddling. There is a sticker on his van door that says "wanna cuddle?" and it's funny because yes, this must be a big phrase in his life. There are also all these stuffed animals on the dash. He said at Burning Man last year he didn't take many drugs because he was working at that Burn. 'Working" here means preparing and giving away 3,000 plates of poutine - for free! Whenever he describes Burning Man, I wind up saying, really just from my brain straight to my mouth, "Why would you want to do that? Why do people do it?" The answer per Ryan is "expression' and "community" - one year he built a huge tower for people to climb up and sit on. Last year he made and gave away all this poutine. So that was an expression of "generosity." (the quote marks are for his having said this when I asked what the expression was.) He laughs at how he's invited me repeatedly to the Burn, but I've never shown any interest. I explain and he understands that I get two weeks of vacation from this job thing I have and by God I'm staying in a hotel when I take 'em. He's stalked my facebook and he gets it he says - the vacations look nice.

Let's get off the topic of the weekend boyfriend who comes to visit, which I think is intriguing but feel like leaving and coming back to. (It is like I am endeavoring to be a lecturer today and the topic of my lecture is life, being me, good things and bad things. I hope you have a pen and if you don't please see if you can borrow from the person next to you and be prepared next time.)

Bad thing: Winter. The cold. Oh Jesus. As you can see I spent the period of preChristmas to New Years basically freezing and either alone in my house or (for three days) at work at a desk where the phone never rang. 'Twas existential - lemme tell ya. Then was New Years Eve. This was a somewhat impromptu very little party where we drank absurd amounts of champagne, didn't really watch 2001 A Space Odyssey, mostly played tunes and were all (remaining) mututally black out drunk from about 12:30am to 3:00 am. The tragedy was that MyfriendH was able to come with the intention of not overdoing it at all, as she had work at the hospital at 8am, but couldn't even lightly partake until around midnight-ish as planned, because she got sick, maybe from her dinner at a restaurant with her husband, whom she told to stay in spite of her sickness and have fun and who did and rocked our jams as is his party wont. But I must admit I was inordinately sad about that. However, there's supposed to be this rager coming up at my place in a couple weeks and if all the stars align we'll be able to party together then. I hope it makes her feel good not bad that I miss her. :)

None of that is the point really but it all adds up to the point which is that it's too cold, I drank so much, I saw my dad's family, I'm ashamed how addicted I am to cigarettes, it's too damn cold.

Right - so New Years Day Holly and Micah stayed all day to watch 2001 which blew my mind as it always does. Micah left and Holly stayed to watch Kathy Griffin episodes and Kathy Griffin is my new Gore Vidal. We think the same things about everything just about. We both know you're not supposed to say 'retarded" but think it's such a great word the world is just going to have to deal with us doing the wrong thing on that count. Ryan had a lot of fun watching Kathy. He doesn't know anything about pop culture. Not his thing. When he drove me to NJ the next day, we stopped for a beer before he dropped me off at my Dad's and we got into the foreign-ness of our lives to eachother. (ultimately they're not so foreign actually) I told him that he has the soul of a true hippy and he had to admit it was true. (I wonder to myself if I have the soul of a true neurotic but if I think that it is probably the cold and the sleep schedule and who knows what thinking that because what I have is, as always, this blasted grounded-ness and then my own dose of expressiveness - I just exist and I don't need anybody except I do but I can tell, luckily, that it's all going to be fine.) Ryan also doesn't seem to have any bone terror going from watching 2001 which I do because I'm not sure the days between Christmas and new Years watching tv and checking facebook this year were all that different in existential affect than the ride to Jupiter with HAL. (whatever.) Into my house and the family gathered around the counter with the digital photo album of the trip they just returned from to Patagonia. Ella and David are over and taking in the slide show too. Ella: "And what are YOU doing Lex?" Me: "Oh-- looks like going to Mexico for my 30th and then going to Law School." Ella: "I was a single woman until I went to Mexico - be careful- that's where I met David!"

Then last night I came back from New Jersey, sex, and you're up to speed except that I haven't told you about waking up in the same old freezing cold this morning (ryan made coffee and walked me to the train. I thought about how winter is a reality that I wisely don't think about til it's here because what would be the point but it is funny how I forgot it would be so cold that I wouldn't even be able to get myself to go out for presents!) and it seems I'll just never get into detail about family. One day we can talk about how different the two of them are. At that point I guess I'll be writing a novel on my blog.

At any rate the combined effect of being cold all the time, being really awfully alone for a long stretch, getting blotto with a small group of greats, recovering and confronting the infinite and my own personal most bone chilling terror-from-sound-and-image (2001), seeing my family and having no presents for them eventhough they had presents for me with the lame excuse that I meant to but it was too cold (true) coming back, ah, sex, and then not really enough sleep and a cold cold walk to to the train to come back to work is one of confusion and fullness that can't be qualiied as happy or sad. I have the taste of not enough sleep but eye-opening coffee in my mouth and its presence in my stomach. My eyes are a little tired but I'm up. The environment is forbidding. I'm looking forward to reliving last night's climaxes when I get home tonight. I think the part of the vacation where people came back to town and I convinced some of them to come be my friend at my house was a really good move that kept me from just fucking giving up in a pile of my own dirt and bedding watching cable and never thinking another thought again. Nonetheless the forbidding outdoors is sure to make a patina of this way-of-life linger in my consciousness through the season. But overall, reviewing this now, I think we can call me happy today. GOOD WORK.

love
Alexis

Sunday, January 3, 2010

My heart is sorta heavy

I'll try to tell you about it tomorrow but for now happier to attribute it to the ceaseless frigid cold and Sunday night's enduring ethos.

I haven't, recently, been able to blog at work but if i can't tomorrow i'll send it to myself in email and throw it up later.

Have you ever wondered if happiness feels exactly like sadness. Or if that is only on Sundays. Or only the holidays. Anyway more soon and it's poosible that I'm really really HAPPY and there's just a little confusion somehow. Anyway more soon.

XOXO
A