Sunday, February 28, 2010

The song

is Act of Apostle by God Help the Girl. It's Won't get therapy. Will talk to computer set to beautiful beautiful song. Honestly. She is my heroine.

Okay okay

It is the morning and I feel much better but I'm well over due to tell you all the shit of lately. I had the perfect sex dream to feel better so thank me, me.

I'll come back to the horrible date and insert it here. It's over a week ago now. who bloody cares.

Remember I slept with a guy from my work, not just once, and then he avoided me and could even avoid my most bald pleas to just tell me what was going on? (He isn't the person whose blackberry thumbs were incensing me the other day incidentally. The world of my work is part, certainly, of this pie chart of Saturday night tears and properly prescribed sexdreams. Did you know I am starting a religion? A cult - yeah- no one's gonna be forced into it or anything - just really right-on tenets and objects of worship. .. more on this later...) and I realized on my own that he must be seeing someone else seriously. And his whole personality was right wing arrogance, but it made me laugh while I smoked joints and told him I had more to tell him about the world than vice versa and he agreed with that and tested if I could really not subtract like I said I couldn't and, well, of course I could subtract. He gave me very even numbers though.

Anyway I had my ways and where it was left was that he better not fuck with me - like at all - and for a year and a half we have been not speaking- not one word. Friday was his last day! Hooray! I guess he left for a competing organization and everyone hates him? I know a little about this I think - I mean I can piece the rumors together a bit but it's not important. Anyway, all that really mattered was he's gone. How lovely for me not to have that stomach drop anymore.

After he left the building though I went ahead and googled his name and his fiance's together. He's been engaged since last Spring-ish. You know that story about Pandora and the box I assume. I was curious. Their wedding page. My God. It's just exactly. I've had a really shitty week. And reading this wedding page it was like God. He said something I can't remember about how-to-live sometime about 15 months ago hanging out at my place. And I said "Wow - It's so simple!" and he just smiled and nodded. He proposed to her fifteen months to the day after they met and started dating. So, isn't that lovely. I can subtract that well too. But here's the rub: If you are really simple and keep the peripheral world out while golfing instead of considering, then you can have exactly what you want. That's what kills, a little.

They have side by side lists of things about themselves. T chart. And at the bottom beneath the T chart, some little facts about their life as a couple. Here's some stuff from his side (from memory). "First conversation with Kirsten's brother: 'Why the fuck did you buy Archstone at a 3.4% cap?' 'What are your intentions with my sister?'" Does the world we live in not hit you in the heart like a brick sometimes. I see me and Ayn Rand in a room and I'm crying on the floor, inarticulate, and she's saying "You know that I'm right." and I am just like "cry... but art... but struggle" and she rolls her eyes and says "What's so great about struggle?" and I say "Don't ask me - why are you asking me? I had a REALLY BAD WEEK." Oh yeah, in this brief t-chart he also says he does not like fiction. Just so you know. Just so you know - no fiction. It's a thing to brag about you see. It isn't accidental. He holds this stuff in real contempt. It is a way of life. And it works.

They like to make bets, says the wedding page. For example, he bet Kirsten that she couldn't score under a hundred on a really tough golf course. She did and thereby won a scuba trip from him. They like to bet Scuba trips, Ski trips, or Gorilla trips. Once a week they discuss either a winery or a current event. I am not making this up.

I don't know. It's a fairly complicated feeling I have about all this - and that in itself is kind of the heart of it - me and my complicated feelings. They don't help anything - they are just who I am. I live negotiating always with being who I am and that I can do things without a partner that are true to that and get me to places I want to be. Yet, I would feel more like I was laughing at the wedding page and less like it was laughing at me if I had a love right now, who was loving who I am. This simple girl - what does she do for a living? She "sells people things they don't need!" Same reaction I had to him I have to her: "It's so simple!"

I'm going to have to go to fucking law school if I want to go on a gorilla trip. I'm jealous. I want to go on one now. And, maybe this bothers you, I don't even know if it bothers me: I probably would have been alright with this incredibly-selfish-person betting me things I could definitely do like some paternalistic figure cum lover if he had been on board. I mean we did not even really go out. But I was somewhat alright with Mens Health being his Bible and whatnot. I thought it was a game he needed to play to live his life. No one could really think that. No one smart could ever think the best thing to do is to never consider any fiction and treat Mens Health like the Bible. So in my fantasy, which might have some reality in there, he knew that it wasn't just a silly choice of mine, loving well crafted fiction, searching for meaning. I say "might have a little reality in it" because this person did feel compelled to seduce me before proposing to the girl who fits so perfectly. They like playing soduku, gin, or backgammon and discussing a winery or a current event once a week and she likes reading the wall street journal while she blowdries her hair in the morning. Kirsten presumably never gets drunk and chainsmokes as a pasttime. Well I pity her that. As much if not more than he thinks of mens health as a Bible, I believe drinking and dancing beats the shit out of backgammon. Even if sometimes my way of living finds me so lonely I can barely take it. Contrast can really be a bitch though. Believe it readers, believe it.

Well boo hoo. That alone wouldn't explain my abject misery last night. i shall bullet some other last week things that'll help you understand that I can't even qualify it as self-indulgent. There was no way to feel but sad. Now I need to get my hair blown out though. I love you.

More soon.

Alexis

Saturday, February 27, 2010

light cry

Boy do I feel lonely. Thought maybe I'd tell you about today. I mean I really feel awful though. Or just so silent and empty. More that than awful.

I am not going to tell you stories for now. I'm going to be a little dramatic. Dramatic and yet plainly true. I want and I need at the moment. I need the phone to ring and for it to be someone coming over with I don't care what and open arms and I'll lie in them and just feel like they're here and I'm here and feel fine.

It isn't going to happen though. Cried a little admitting that and feel a little better already actually. I don't know. I need that good feeling to come around soon. It will.

I promise to blog to you about what's been going through my mind - I can't access my blog at work but that's no reason not to write myself an email for posting later while I'm at work on Monday. At work is a good place for this stuff. I'm pretty commited to sitting in silence right now it seems. Anyway this is quite the experience, the human experience, in which you can't just ask people to come hold you - it must be your turn. Ouch I have a headache. I already took two advil. I guess I'm already starting to feel a little better.

love
Alexis

Monday, February 22, 2010

I've been out of it

A real space cadet.

Today, Monday, I was apparently supposed to show up at work at 7:30am to do front desk, and it was "on the calendar" last Friday - Friday I was unassigned and came to work, found a desk, and cried a little in the morning and read articles and watched Kathy Griffin on youtube in the afternoon.

I mean the point is I got here at 9:00am today because although I may have ... technically... like eyes may have seen... seen this on the calendar, I was in a mind to chop off my hair methodically with a jackknife, eyes locked on the mirror a la Legends of the Fall last Friday. I predict that there will not be any consequences to this slip up here though. Except that asking for a raise will have to wait a couple months. Which I thought it would anyway. And I won't get it anyway. But be honest, even if I waited two years, she, my boss - who I'd describe because she's somewhat just-so and in that way very likable to me, but I don't wanna start with describing bosses on my internet blog, but who perhaps should have sent me an email if I had to come in at 7:30am on a Monday, will still bring this up. When our old boss got laid off and they threw her, her new assistant, in out of the blue, she took it to heart, she really did. But she's a good girl and I like her. I consider her smart. Knowing who pays you is smart - always has been- but it's so non-negotiable nowadays...

Anyhow - a koan for you - what is more awful than someone standing in front of a closed elevator wearing a tie, head bowed, typetypetyping on his blackberry oblivious to how awful he is? Nothing. Nothing is worse than that. Let me break it down for you. There's nothing wrong with a man in a shirt and tie waiting for an elevator, whether he be distracted, thoughful, lost in thought, aware, smiling, frowning, looking up, looking down - none of this appraoches awful; all of this is fine. That same man staring at his own fucking thumbs held juste, juste a peine above his own sad belly button a tap tappin', a tappity tappin' thumbs - completely consumed by those big thumbs, that little screen. Awful. Just... Awful.

I went on this really terrible painfully undermining date on Thursday. It made me cry Friday. And by Saturday the emotion had morphed into one that was oddly affirming. (not for nothing - this was with a little help from my friends. Friends called Kelly and GREY GOOSE - you know I am going to tell you everyting in a minute and am just working up to it - bit by little bit - the butler just brought me coffee and I'm supposed to never tell anyone ever that he did so. Oh cry oh weep life is sad and good.) Yesterday I took a pretest LSAT. Gee I feel like I could cry this morning again. What weird gyroscope of feeling am I in? Suppose it's called late February early March and is always like this.

Well let me say this before I tell you about the date because I guess that's the assignment. I still love Mad Men. I mean a lot. I can't believe how broad it is in terms of story. It's is the kind of thing I'd write --

I have to come back to this later. :) XOXO

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

If I were a stripper...

I'd strip to MGMT's weekend wars. other than that, not an mgmt fan. But that's pretty high praise.

All's Well

We had a blizzard. I have a million things to do tomorrow to get ready for Miami Friday afternoon to Monday morning baby! XO

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Well

romantically it can really be just ironically awfully bad. Remember I wrote a post a year ago about how wonderfully smart I was to not be caught up anything with a person name Josh who told me he rated his (now ex) girlfriend a 6.5. I messed around with his friend and he hoaxed me that the friend liked me when I asked about him (the friend.) Josh seems like a pathological liar/ sociopath anyhow. I still feel asinine because I got a little fantasy world on it. The fantasy was simply a museum visit and more sex with said friend. But anyway, all you need to know is that over the past week I was fucked with in my head and it's not fair and tonight I am feeling sorry for myself. I could use a good cry, but, as 62% of me knows it's silly and nothing to bother being upset about, the good cry is close but so far.

Everything is fine- just me being me - getting a little tripped up, understandably sad to be just fucked around with when I'd thought I was making a new if maladjusted friend in terrible Josh. I mean anyone would have a sad night realizing they were being fucked with, not awesome to death in everyone's eyes like they were being led to believe.

Poor me!

XO
boo hoo

love
Alexis