here is how it goes

some days I really want to blog - then I'm kind of doing stuff til late in the day and I lose momentum.

So it is 4:27pm but,

I was going to, since this is a most intimate blog say this: some wishes can never come true but when wishes are vis a vis things changing with your mother you can wish them forever anyway -- it's not an abstract wish, it's just a wish you'll always have that will never come true.

Therapy wise, I haven't been in a while becasue I'm so busy being an associate producer to solonova, throwing a bachelorette, attending a wedding, attending a graduation, reporting to work.

But the last time I went, I went twice in three days because he gave me a breakdown, and I was not pleased and wanted to know what the fuck. Initially, I went in there with a hangover, but not particularly emotional, and told him I was tired but wanted to keep the appointment. He told me I'm depressed and that I'm depressed because my work does not fulfill me and I should be a comedienne - I obviously have intelligence and talent that isn't getting used. I was frustrated - he prodded - and I told him how I got cast in a leading role in a Broadway show when I was twelve when my dad secretly took me to auditions and then my mom forbade me to take the part. She didn't want to figure out how she would co-ordinate such a thing for me while living in New Jersey and also didn't want me exposed to so many gay people. He said this was very bad for my self esteem and that of course now I'm not pursuing acting because I think, "what's the point? Even if I could I can't."

I kind of hate him for his glib analysis sometimes. I felt really breakdowny the next day and the next morning - all I had to do was think about sitting in that office and listening to him say stuff like that and I was in tears. I went in and told him how sad and fucked up I'd felt since I left the day and half before and he rolled his eyes when I explained how all I had to do was think of his office and it got me going and what the fuck. He offered to show my resume to someone he knows who is no longer a patient. He did this because I said it really wasn't fair to say I should be acting and not have any practical thing in mind. I haven't been back yet so we'll see, we'll see... I'm glad he did have some practical response though -even if that was "unprofessional" or whatever.

Anyway, then I had some pretty exhilerating weeks working on the shows for the festival and thinking I am pretty happy - I am involved in theater - maybe I'll see my way to some auditions, for now producing is a really great time for me.

Then Steph's graduation. The nice thing is that my feelings about Stephaine aren't tainted at all. She is amazing and I could search my soul for days and not find a shred of resentment. We just love eachother so simply; we're sisters. But my mother my mother! A girl sang the star spangled banner - she didn't mess up at all- and Cory Booker spoke and the whole ceremony was the best graduation I've ever been to. Afterwards my mother said to me "How about that girl who sang the national anthem? Did you know she's going to be on Broadway?" and why go to therapy if it just primes you to say, and I am ashamed of myself, "I was going to be on Broadway. You wouldn't let me." For what it's worth, that mean mean lady, she looked at me and said "Oh would you like that better?" I said, "Uh yea" with all the eyes that go with statements of the obvious and she said no one's stopping me now. And I said yea, but what a missed opportunity and then rushed on to say I'm happy with what I'm doing with the company I'm working with now- I mean I tried to take the contention level down. But man - I mean - I really don't like it how she always points out people with great talent who are going to Broadway. And then acts totally oblivious. But I'm not glad I pointed it out. You know?

My mom hates me a little. It's always been this way and is always going to be this way. I wish I understood a little better what the idea is with going over this with a therapist. The weekend got worse - not Stephanie-wise I repeat. I don't regret being there - I wouldn't have missed this for the world. I sure love that sister of mine. But I couldn't shake a little snideness - I am always a little snide with my mom. Finally my mother knocked over her boatsized drink at lunch ("I'm going to celbrate with a jubille punch!" --or whatever this huge drink was called -- celebrate your daughter who does not drink ever at all I pointed out) Then she knocked it over - she'd knocked over a wine bottle the night before - and I said "You spill stuff a lot mom" and my step-dad said "Idiot!" but I got screamed at with this lecture from my grammy about "This woman you think is so EVIL... This EVIL MOTHER of yours is a DECENT PERSON!" And then she continued that it wasn't fair how I hurt my mother's self-esteem.

I mean. I mean like I said, I wish it would be different. But I'm so angry at her forever. The way she acted at my birthday this year. I'm not over that. So I guess this is how it's going to be. She'll hate me, I'll hate her back, but I'll love my brother and sisters and they'll love me and it will hurt that I don't have a loving mother and that even grammy would have it my fault for convenience, but I'll be thankful there's these wonderful kids who are my favorite people. Plus my mom was cute a couple times when I was a little kid.

I am a very lucky person who you might think was horrifying if the first time you met me was around my mom.

lots of love xo
Alexis

having a little anger morning

It appears that all my emotions are connected to tiredness - no more, no less.

This morning I have hated on:

1) That one girl on the train. The first time I sat across from this lady I loved her. It was Easter-time - apparently her priest looks like Jesus. She has an incredibly square jaw. She has bangs. She's very just so and put togehter with little roll-eye expressions that are not full eye-rolls. She was sort of holding court on this first day -- people would enter the train and they knew her - that was impressive - I was reminded of the material girl video - that's impressive to hearken to the material girl video on the subway. I could half hear this bit from her on the priest who looks like Jesus. I've turned hater though. Possibly because she should smile at me by now - we've sat across from eachother about five times. And I'm tired of her princessly air. My point : she is probably a wonderful person. I am a huge HATER today.

2) Each and every Real Housewife of New Jersey. I missed the premiere last night. I went to bravo.com when I got here to work today, read their blogs, and hated. This is a crying shame. I shouldn't ruin something as wonderful as Real Housewives of New Jersey looking them up while I'm in a hating mood.

3)aaaaarrrrrrg. everything. I need a nap and I can't go to Italy or I can but for five days only and so I think might rather go camping... my anger is caused by tiredness and also this thing called the family medical leave act which only helps you if you're telling the truth about taking a week of unpaid leave for personal health reasons. I'm caught in a lie at work and need to backpedal. Will someone who understands stuff tell me if I need to erase that last part from the internet?

In short your favorite won't-get-therapy is angry today. Could cure easily with a nap. Can't nap. Really really happy about so many things but stuck in a state of blind annoyance. Oh also totally having a want love and/or a baby day too. Oh Alexis.

XOXOX :) :) :)
me

no windows, flourescents, awful k-cup coffee, I am calling out tomorrow

okay -- there's an assignment here. There's a story to tell that no one asked for.

So -- God I'm tempted to just write dude's whole name. Dude's true first name is Josh. I think I've actually mentioned him in passing on this blog before. I'm no longer in the same playwriting group I was in. That group splintered, and one of my favorite people in the world I've ever met, Kelly, asked Josh and another person who'd had a couple babies and hadn't been around real-live class in a long time to make an online class. They formed that class and then invited me to it. It's really really fun - getting feedback on your work in the chatroom while you're just maxin and relaxin in your own house/apartment. It's kind of amazing really because you've gotta assume we're all four pretty passable writers... so we can really crack eachother up over gchat. Not so much dorky as we are witty, at least that's what I think.

Anyway Josh has always been weird. He's good looking - teeth a little narrowly set, but nice body, that kind of skin I've referenced liking before... ha... I better rate him... you'll see why soon. I'd say a 7.8, but maybe just a 7. For reference, Steve Carrell is an 8. I love Steve Carrell's watery eyes and have kind of a fetish about his nose, but I kind of can't separate love from my scale, and I love Steve. So Steve Carrell's no Adonis, but he is an 8 becasue there's love there. (okay okay - I don't know how to say this right so I'll just say it- ah, cringe, okay - I think his nose would do something incredible during oral sex to me. I just feel that. Never mention this to me ever, becuase it's a secret I'm pretending I didn't just put on the internet. :) ) Okay Hugh Jackman is a 10. So I don't love Josh. He's more an objective 7.8. Good looks is my point. Eye contact with him doesn't make me feel understood as a flawed but beautiful human so that's not part of his rating. 7.8 solely on the physique, the facial symmetry, the complexion.

I am a better writer than he is. This is kind of important too. I'm trying to get a certain understanding across to you, so I don't think it's the time for humility. How could he be a really good writer? He's really hung up on false veil of maya shit.. and as you know from my vast and boring introductory post,("Full Mental Inventory,") I may be a little boring, but I'm not wrong about the world. He's got everything wrong.

So back when I referenced him in the past I think I was irritated by him never wanting to get a drink after class, never making friends with me, when it seemed obvious to me that we might as well - he had a girlfriend but wasn't married, I'm the coolest girl ever - we're in this funny mostly way older people playwriting workshop -like, why? Why never have a beer with me? I concluded it was because he was rich and let it go.

Then I stopped going to that workshop while I associate produced Blue Before Morning and worked on my writing without feedback. Then I returned when solicited and told I was missed. I went back one night and Josh was, well, more solicitious than ever before, tells me, "you should come back. Really. you should." I was like "I do plan to." The next week I wrote him to see if he was going since it was pouring rain and I would have still gone since he was so "You should come" the week before, but if he wasn't going, then I wasn't going to put myself out so much. He writes back that maybe the reason he was so awkward the week before was because he'd had a dream about me the night before I showed up at class after all those months. ("Alas," he wrote, "not that kind of dream.") Whatevs... the whole thing seemed like a giant ploy to get me to say... something, a giant ploy for me to be... intrigued. Well, all I can say is it isn't that easy. Of course it isn't that easy

I mean the long and short of this entire long ass story is that he simply doesn't have it THERE to intrigue me with. The only intrigue he has to offer is fucked-upness and vanity. Can't work. (I mean it can work - sad but true - 7.8 + nothing to offer but vanity + actually initiating sex CAN WORK - that is the great tragedy of life. But we're not having sex so 7.8 + a ton of vanity - no that can't work.)

What is happening Alexis? What are you writing? I am writing the story of what's wrong with him more succinctly and directly than he can. I am rendering all his vague feelings-writing irrelevant telling you, instead, and in my blog, his central quandries. If you're bored already that's not my fault. I'm just getting it down so it's out there in the world for him. He could even quit writing. ha ha ha. That is so mean. I love me.

OK. So this Josh, I think I mentioned he has a girlfriend. Met her, but more aptly, saw her, at his play reading 2-ish years ago. The body language there was the he was embarassed by her. That seemed Weird. She was perfectly sweet and cute - she was wearing a dress and seemed like a cheerful person. I'm quite sure she's better than he deserves. i don't blame her for not knowing becasue she's surely blinded by the objective 7.8 making him seem catch-y in a way no one can really be blamed for. Half the point of all this is that some of my peace-of0mind happiness i've been going on about is the sweet sweet relief of seeing through people and not engaging with them just because sex feels so good and can be so nicely distracting from boredom.

Are you enjoying this long story about someone else's problems juxtaposed with how happy I am to really not be entangled in them?

So he's still with this girl who I have to think his body language has always suggested embarassment with. Lately the online splinter group has indeed been going out for beers. Suddenly he's down to have drinks, and not only is he down, he's almost anxious to tell us, me and kelly, me, Kelly ,and Mike, how he, quote unquote, Doesn't really like her. Isn't really into her. This is always said, at least to me, after a shot, or something - so I take it in stride. I don't think he purposely does this so I take it in stride. I'm explaining that the reason I've repeatedly taken it in stride is because I'm always feeling pretty mellow by the time conversation goes here.

What a piece of work. What a vain piece of work. So we're still not to two nights ago which is somewhat unbelievable and I might need to take another "to be continued."

So the first time he tells me he doesn't like his girlfriend, he follows up with "I've always wondered what it would be like to be with someone creative, you know what I mean -- like the competition would be ..." I don't remember verbatim. Too silly. Isn't this guy unbelievable? See I'm as vain as any girl with my cute features who was born in 1980. But I'm not vain enough to really believe that he's talking about me - but I mean -- Josh. Really? It couldn't be -- it couldn't be that you're looking for.... no... could you really? "I'm creative - can I kiss you?" Do you think I am 19 Josh? Do you think I am 19? I am actually not vain enough to believe that he's taking about me. I give him the benefit of the doubt that he is not trying to get me to imagine a creative romantic partnership with him. That is fine, but it makes our next drunken discussion of all this begin to enter realms of surreal offense as he once again talks about not wanting to marry his girlfriend and turns to me with tears in his eyes, just about, and goes "I mean.. six and a half?" I say, "Oh gosh are you really upset?" (a cause de the budding tears)He says, "Kind of" I say, "Oh sorry... sorry but I don't understand. Six and half what?" and he just looks at me until I figure out that he is about to cry because he thinks his girlfriend only rates a six and a half.

Okay, so more details to follow. to be continued. But feast on that all my single ladies and make sure you're enjoying the good times with the men with heart who talk to you on tv and write to you in books to be found at the library.

love
Alexis

JEEZ

I really want to tell you about this really troubled guy but I 'm not kidding - I get so tired out under flourescent lights. I want to sleep for a week! I'm very happy with myself and all i want is sleep. It's the opposite of depression but still with a lot of sleeping! Let me sleep! Let my people sleep!

Full Mental Inventory

So lucky you - I haven't blogged in a long time and tonight I want to Blog a Big One - tell you all the vignettes. I think a lot of them have a common theme about a real peace of mind I'm experiencing, so I don't know how I'm going to unite it / if you want to hear about the peace of mind in general terms first? no I think that would be kind of boring so I think I have to list men - ok, that's coming up. The crux of the peace of mind is that in a real way I am feeling good about being mature, even though if someone wants to go clubbing I barely remember what that is and think it could be fun.

Now that I'm not officiating that wedding (oh did you hear? they broke up!) maybe I could make a summer weekend or two of acting 23 years old if anyone is down and in the summer people generally are. But the thing is that in a for real way which is not feeling very precarious, I am happy with myself. I know it sounds like so much pop psychology rubbish, but it's not; I think I really have spent two years plus working on myself. I mean, the stupid word there is "working," but I'll think about what the more apt word is for the next time I come around here typing. I mean that if you take this blog a year and a half ago... ehhh... more like: I mean that the reason I've been silent on here is that I haven't been feeling angry or let down or grasping. Not really envious either. This isn't to say I haven't had feelings or needed to talk to my friends or any of that. I've just been doing good, I have bigger wants for myself than I'm living up to this exact second, but I am happy with my actual self and have been taking a lot of good feeling from that - for no one but myself. And sure I am but particles in an infinite universe, but I am proud of feeling assured that I do my best and am so smart, enjoy my own self, and have my little problems and so on.... huge introductory paragraph to say I'm good with me. If anything lately I've ben tired and that is because of the weather around here and flourescent lights at this dismal property management office I've been sent to. But, I have not felt exhausted, only tired, and I live for my time with me - I'm glad I'm one of my favorites. Sounds so cheesy - but voila la message. I guess an important caveat is that I'm still so damn fun it's wild baby. (i.e. I am not saying "YAY- weak tea and no action forever!" I think I'll never say that.)

Now I am going to smoke a little. I hope very much that this does not impede my ability to explain the next part! (the man list - woo-hoo - settle in folks - it should be long - unless smoking makes me too unmotivated to draw for you the conclusions I've been wanting to!) Okay it's going to go J, J, G. This is actually like a big writing project telling you about this - it's a lot of shit - and what you're to get out of it is: yup Alexis- you do pretty good not getting too entangled, you do pretty good. :)

Okay just had a cigarette. I don't know about this man list. :) Gore Vidal was on Real Time. Oh man. What's my wish? A week off to read as much Gore Vidal as I can. Oh wow. The wit, the charm, the intelligence. baby my dates have been so lame, how would I not feel like I'm on the right track coming home and seeing you on the TV. You would understand, Gore Vidal... a woman can always please herself. :) :) :)

Gore Vidal said, (once... not on this interview... one of the best things to do to him is quote himself back to himself - his reacting expressions are beautiful. ) I'm paraphrasing, "You can always have sex. It's hard to find a friend." He is adorable. And on homosexual acts he is simply... adorable!

Anyway, so, I had a funny night last night talking to a boy with a lot of problems into the wee hours midtown. Weighing the other side of the scales with getting the fucking message with Gore Vidal tonight was the welcome balance.

This is the only one I"ll write about. So wow - basically ladies, this is a be happy you're single story just for you.

to be continued.

hi

I feel pretty boo monday today. For weeks I think about blogable things on my way to work but don't blog them.

I helped move friends from Astoria to the Bronx this weekend. That was Saturday. Sunday was a total total wash.

Being single is not the enemy. As ever though, seriously, as EVER, it would really be nice to be spending more time cuddling with someone and doing stuff with someone. I have a friend going through a breakup now in LA. It's a little rough because she is very open about being terrified of being alone. I feel like she's quite a few years late to that party and I've dealt with that many times over and she runs a risk of offending me which she has already in the past, and I always just let go by. It feels mean to feel this way. There are a lot of issues there and it had me tossing and turning last night til I picked up the phone and called the one who likes me so in TX. I really can't get into it on the blog. Wouldn't be right.

Tonight I'll clean a little and start a book. Talk to my friend in the depths of despair. This isn't so bad. I guess that moving to Texas plan should advance. The problem is when things pick up a little (which is exactly every two weeks) I'm like hold your horses there Alexis -- it's taken a while to get yourself this little and happy too-expensive place to just be you in and you do have some theater connex in New York - stay put and good things will happen. Then the guy of the week doesn't follow through with a proper ask out, it's rainy all Sunday, and I'm back to "Move your ass to Texas to a 1 bedroom with a pool." Let's consider this the plan for September and refuse to visit my friend who says she needs me to. I can't. I'm moving in September and have to save time and money.

love
Alexis

I am going to

rise like a Phoenix. I will be awesome again.

I'm not even in dust. But more awesomeness will return without any need for total dust. It will return in summer. Spring will continue to be weird and vaguely horrible, but by Summer, yes.

I take back everything I said in sympathy for the rich bosses. They just laid off all my coworking peers just about and my boss - they're divorced from reality. They don't know what she does. She does everything! I'm a fool. I shoulda known. I just called my brother to whine and rave and he was like, yea, don't make a habit of this... but he did say he's there if I need him. And yo, I'm being a baby. I'm fine.

So a salad and some chili are on the way. I guess I'll watch TV. lord lord lord I'd rather drink and have sex. but I am old I am old and couldn't wake up for glorious work if I did that. I would like to beat depression to death with all of my might and pass out at the moment of its death and dream of a world of love.

love
Alexis