Friday, June 5, 2009
KILL CORPORATE
Honestly please - somebody kill corporate. We have Barack Obama now can we please have some kind of actual killing corporate. Do I have to write about it? Most likely not. You know what it's like. I'm a mad woman this morning. I'm the character in the book raving about the lunatics being sane and the sane people being lunatcis. This whole week man. Your corporate outfits look stupid to me this week corporate people. Also everything that comes out of your mouths. Why don't you do everyone a favor and take a day off and do some fucking drugs? Come in here and say something genuine since original is not a possibility? Buy a paint set or some shit. Break a guitar as you cannot play one. Call out sick shitheads. It's so lame how you don't. The worst of you are the buy-in ones. I've always been really repelled by violence but I think I could enjoy hurting you. Get a goddam sense of humour. people who think they have it all figured out, all self-congratulatory because they eliminated doubt and nuance focusing exclusively on "the bottom line." All having your phone answered. Eat dicks. I want to slap your face with a gun. :) :) :) TGIF.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
it's a bloggin week
but it's also a typo week. I pulled something in my thumb? No really. I pulled something in my thumb. This is the second day of thumb cramp.
Okay so I had a nice night last night but I gotta give you the quote of the night which comes in between finishing up at work and going to meet MyfriendH and Megastar to see Backyard TireFire. Remember last week how a guy asked me out on the street and I had a drink with him after work, but he wasn't a real "prospect" so to speak given that he was divorced and had two kids. And said "Everything Copa?" instead of "How are you?" or "Is everything okay?" So the Quote of the night:
Me: So did you have a nice Memorial Day? You said you'd have your kids? You know -I don't know yet what you have in that department -- you know -- a boy and a girl? Two boys? We don't have to talk about that if you don't want to but,
QUOTE OF THE NIGHT: Actually I'm still married. And it's three actually. Three kids.
Oh how I laughed. And oh how I tried to order a steak quickly quickly but that would have taken a long time so I just wouldn't let them take the calimari away when they wanted to. (Did he not tip? The instant he paid the check everyone was coming around to take away the food) I was just laughing and laughing - staring off smilng and laughing again and stuffing calimari in my face after that. When I say grotesque sideshow I am not just playing around! Can you believe this sometimes WORKS FOR THIS GUY? I guess I'm naive. A) Never go out with anyone who asks you out. Something is wrong with them. and B) Someone is doing every unbelievable thing under the sun. But come on - it's a little amazing right, and sad, to imagine that sometimes this works. "I'm still married. With three kids. So what do you say? What do you think?" I honestly somewhat enjoyed this experience because I got to say, "I think you've got the wrong girl." which is so movie-ish and fun to say. Try it out loud! I kid you not. It's fun to say.
Oh, an important thing you haven't been told is that I don't hate Josh anymore. He loves my play and wrote me really involved notes about it and encourages me to write more always as his primary thing he says about my writing. So you know, he cried about how he thinks his girlfriend is a six and a half. Fine. And he's got more hang-ups than a california closet. What's new? no need to hate.
Oh xoxoxox I havea nice hangover - maybe i'll tell you more stuff about stuff later -I think I'm cycling back around to cool so that is nice.
A
Okay so I had a nice night last night but I gotta give you the quote of the night which comes in between finishing up at work and going to meet MyfriendH and Megastar to see Backyard TireFire. Remember last week how a guy asked me out on the street and I had a drink with him after work, but he wasn't a real "prospect" so to speak given that he was divorced and had two kids. And said "Everything Copa?" instead of "How are you?" or "Is everything okay?" So the Quote of the night:
Me: So did you have a nice Memorial Day? You said you'd have your kids? You know -I don't know yet what you have in that department -- you know -- a boy and a girl? Two boys? We don't have to talk about that if you don't want to but,
QUOTE OF THE NIGHT: Actually I'm still married. And it's three actually. Three kids.
Oh how I laughed. And oh how I tried to order a steak quickly quickly but that would have taken a long time so I just wouldn't let them take the calimari away when they wanted to. (Did he not tip? The instant he paid the check everyone was coming around to take away the food) I was just laughing and laughing - staring off smilng and laughing again and stuffing calimari in my face after that. When I say grotesque sideshow I am not just playing around! Can you believe this sometimes WORKS FOR THIS GUY? I guess I'm naive. A) Never go out with anyone who asks you out. Something is wrong with them. and B) Someone is doing every unbelievable thing under the sun. But come on - it's a little amazing right, and sad, to imagine that sometimes this works. "I'm still married. With three kids. So what do you say? What do you think?" I honestly somewhat enjoyed this experience because I got to say, "I think you've got the wrong girl." which is so movie-ish and fun to say. Try it out loud! I kid you not. It's fun to say.
Oh, an important thing you haven't been told is that I don't hate Josh anymore. He loves my play and wrote me really involved notes about it and encourages me to write more always as his primary thing he says about my writing. So you know, he cried about how he thinks his girlfriend is a six and a half. Fine. And he's got more hang-ups than a california closet. What's new? no need to hate.
Oh xoxoxox I havea nice hangover - maybe i'll tell you more stuff about stuff later -I think I'm cycling back around to cool so that is nice.
A
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
So I erased my poem to an obsession of old
Later I decided it was lame.
I still emailed it to myself so it exists in some kind of posterity. But there's something, well, I think a little distatsteful, about my tendency to have a bad week and start right in romanticizing stuff from the past. I wil always remember Mike Welch, but...
Well okay, I liked that poem. But what can I say - I just got embarassed about it later. Something about it seemed so very lame - admitting I still think about some mysterious guy who I'm sure doesn't rememeber me. He exemplified soemthing to me though - from that period of working at that Hollywood restaurant. When he didn't, (well, there's no other word but fuck,) fuck me, he thought it showed there were "good people in LA" - How could you not remember that guy and wonder about him? I am only human. Well, anyway, I guess my point is, friends, I can't believe I told you about that. These blogs are dangerous.
I hate foundering. That's a word right? Like "floundering" in meaning but more like your center moves, not that you flap like a fish... very similar though.
All told, all these feelings, the recriminations to my mother, the search through the past for why it isn't all settled now -- it all amounts to I need to get into a writing program, still, need to keep my sights on that, still, and God it would be better if that had happened already but it hasn't and that's still the goal.
This summer, I'll have summer Fridays. I think I'm deciding now that I won't spend these at the beer garden, that I'll spend them doing applications try 3, year 3. To Iowa, to Brooklyn college, to Columbia again, to Texas again although I'll never get into that one. My therpist wasn't telling me to go back into my deepest sorrow about my narcissistic mother. (I still haven't seen him but I'm still thinking about what has been going in my own mind for myself) - he was just saying I need to do what I'm good at. This frustration is tiring though and it's fragmenting - wanting things. I can't quit work until there is something like a program replacing it.
Afer a wedding Friday night, I went to my Dad's. They left on a vacay monday and starting Sunday I tried to get myself a good memorial Day worked out since they'd be gone. I tried to see if this guy who I hooked up with from the show next door to the shows I'm assoc. producing would go to a Mets game with me. He couldn't. Someone else who i met out once and have only IMd with since invited me by. I had him written off because he always only asks me over in this "wanna come over right now?" way I resent. I went over to his place for the first time since I met him. Poor guy - he's an artist - he's pretty artist-y. He has epilepsy. He had had a seizure earlier in the year. I forgave him his way of inviting me over and his strange issue of attention when I considered that. But inside it was the same old deep sigh. It won't be love. We don't really understand eachother. I'm too grounded. What I need, I haven't found yet. I can search for Mike Welch on facebook. But fact remains, who I'm for, who's for me, I haven't found. In the meantime, I should be writing, but I can't until some program makes that my real work. this is not a mental block. It's an hours in the day block. I could look for a job in TV but... I don't know -- they say the way to do that is to write an episode for an existing show? I just... well, I wish I were in a program.
the other thing is to think abut trying to produce my wild airplane play on my own. That is very intimidating as well - and yes, how would I keep working?
I like to think about ten years from now, after I've been to a writing program and sat in the Iowa fields writng stories and plays. I'll say "The period where I was working in New York and couldn't get into a program was very hard. That was very hard and I didn't know how or when I'd get where I was going."
In the end, on memorial day, I went and saw that artist and then went on my way to Malik's rooftop party where I was very bored. I left, with a headache and drunkish, and Malik asked if I got any good networking done and I felt sad about hat question. In the subway - I saw that coworker who i once wrote about - he gives tours of rock center and doesn't mention communism... he sat next to me until his stop and we talked a little about this crazy world where we pretend what we want is to get in good "networking." He's quitting it turns out. He said he'd tell me more in an email but he hasn't emailed. What a weird day you know. it was like a sampler of guys who aren't the guy. And that's fine but I'd be lying if isaid iwasn't still living with some frustration and htat it wasn't depressing to turn the key to my door after a smapler like that. Still just me not where I'm going yet.
XO - getting better all the time.
love
Alexis
I still emailed it to myself so it exists in some kind of posterity. But there's something, well, I think a little distatsteful, about my tendency to have a bad week and start right in romanticizing stuff from the past. I wil always remember Mike Welch, but...
Well okay, I liked that poem. But what can I say - I just got embarassed about it later. Something about it seemed so very lame - admitting I still think about some mysterious guy who I'm sure doesn't rememeber me. He exemplified soemthing to me though - from that period of working at that Hollywood restaurant. When he didn't, (well, there's no other word but fuck,) fuck me, he thought it showed there were "good people in LA" - How could you not remember that guy and wonder about him? I am only human. Well, anyway, I guess my point is, friends, I can't believe I told you about that. These blogs are dangerous.
I hate foundering. That's a word right? Like "floundering" in meaning but more like your center moves, not that you flap like a fish... very similar though.
All told, all these feelings, the recriminations to my mother, the search through the past for why it isn't all settled now -- it all amounts to I need to get into a writing program, still, need to keep my sights on that, still, and God it would be better if that had happened already but it hasn't and that's still the goal.
This summer, I'll have summer Fridays. I think I'm deciding now that I won't spend these at the beer garden, that I'll spend them doing applications try 3, year 3. To Iowa, to Brooklyn college, to Columbia again, to Texas again although I'll never get into that one. My therpist wasn't telling me to go back into my deepest sorrow about my narcissistic mother. (I still haven't seen him but I'm still thinking about what has been going in my own mind for myself) - he was just saying I need to do what I'm good at. This frustration is tiring though and it's fragmenting - wanting things. I can't quit work until there is something like a program replacing it.
Afer a wedding Friday night, I went to my Dad's. They left on a vacay monday and starting Sunday I tried to get myself a good memorial Day worked out since they'd be gone. I tried to see if this guy who I hooked up with from the show next door to the shows I'm assoc. producing would go to a Mets game with me. He couldn't. Someone else who i met out once and have only IMd with since invited me by. I had him written off because he always only asks me over in this "wanna come over right now?" way I resent. I went over to his place for the first time since I met him. Poor guy - he's an artist - he's pretty artist-y. He has epilepsy. He had had a seizure earlier in the year. I forgave him his way of inviting me over and his strange issue of attention when I considered that. But inside it was the same old deep sigh. It won't be love. We don't really understand eachother. I'm too grounded. What I need, I haven't found yet. I can search for Mike Welch on facebook. But fact remains, who I'm for, who's for me, I haven't found. In the meantime, I should be writing, but I can't until some program makes that my real work. this is not a mental block. It's an hours in the day block. I could look for a job in TV but... I don't know -- they say the way to do that is to write an episode for an existing show? I just... well, I wish I were in a program.
the other thing is to think abut trying to produce my wild airplane play on my own. That is very intimidating as well - and yes, how would I keep working?
I like to think about ten years from now, after I've been to a writing program and sat in the Iowa fields writng stories and plays. I'll say "The period where I was working in New York and couldn't get into a program was very hard. That was very hard and I didn't know how or when I'd get where I was going."
In the end, on memorial day, I went and saw that artist and then went on my way to Malik's rooftop party where I was very bored. I left, with a headache and drunkish, and Malik asked if I got any good networking done and I felt sad about hat question. In the subway - I saw that coworker who i once wrote about - he gives tours of rock center and doesn't mention communism... he sat next to me until his stop and we talked a little about this crazy world where we pretend what we want is to get in good "networking." He's quitting it turns out. He said he'd tell me more in an email but he hasn't emailed. What a weird day you know. it was like a sampler of guys who aren't the guy. And that's fine but I'd be lying if isaid iwasn't still living with some frustration and htat it wasn't depressing to turn the key to my door after a smapler like that. Still just me not where I'm going yet.
XO - getting better all the time.
love
Alexis
Friday, May 22, 2009
what a week
Whew. Well I feel very alive - very no appetite. I had a breakdown in the street on... I think it was Wednesday night. I wrote an email to my mother that morning thinking I'd explain that the attitude I have that gets me yelled at is derived of feelings from the past. What a mistake that was. When I read her response between shows I was on site for Wednesday (Tuesday?) I just lost it lost it lost it.
I don't think I have the most amazing therapist, but I think he's basically passable and maybe this is what the "working on" "dealing with" which I have been not understanding the meaning of is about perhaps. I feel a little asanine because I have Everything Else in the world aside from a mother with whom I'm on the same page and who doesn't think I'm extremely disturbed / dead with a new girl in my place. That's just one thing. I have an entire supportive fun wildly functional family in addition to hers and a brother and sisters who I'm sure are completely my friends and family even on hers. Growing up, eventhough I was punished willy nilly, I had crazy great friends and still do.
But maybe even at 28 you have to face reality sometimes and weep on the street about whatever your baggage is. Which you don't get to pick. Maybe the weeping is kind of the dealing.
Since le breakdown, I've been kind of walking around in this daze of thinking about it. Doesn't feel bad - just a little out of body. These are the times people ask you out on the street by the way. When you're walking around in post-breakdown world mind-reviewing what you articulated even if only to yourself times. When you might have remembered to put on makeup if you'd remembered to brush your teeth or eat anything in two days (don't get me wrong - my dress, shoes, and sunglasses still looked damn good - I was just out of body in my head). This lawyer guy was all hey aren't we walking down the same street on the very same day yesterday and I gave him my number and went to his office for a drink (he has a bar in his office? More like alcohol in a cabinet and a plastic shaker with ice) after work. Well he's divorced with two kids. And says "Copa" for good. But he's pretty nice and I guess we'll date during the summer. 2 kids is a lotta kids though. I wanna date everyone all kinds this summer.
Yesterday I was sort of smiling all day because my mom's big thing is that I was disobedient which I dispute with her but - heh ha - is really completely true. ;)She continues to defend trying to physically remove me from a friend's house when she'd really upset me calling me dirty and punishing me as usual over finding out about me having had sex. So, basically, I went to a friend's house for the night to calm down and I disobeyed when she ordered me to go home with her and she tried to drag me out of there and I wouldn't budge and it was all so dramatic and awful that suddenly the world made sense and I called my dad and I went and lived with him for the rest of high school (one month) and summer before college. I am like the Ghandi of my own mental health. It wasn't civil disobedience; it was free-Alexis disobedience.
I do get upset about the whole obedience argument because I think obedience is the primary thing for dogs, soldiers, and maybe, uh, geishas, but not seventeen year old girls with As and Bs and "withdraw passing"s in Math and very messy rooms. So while I tell her - look I wasn't remarkably disobedient - the complex idea I don't get to with her is well of course it WAS disobedience - it was like civil disobedience - it just wasn't for any cause other than myself.
So yeah. So the question I still have is do I have to do this again every ten years or something? It seems kind of juvenile. But if I don't hurt anybody I guess it's not that bad, just sort of embarassing. Oddly, I thought I had accepted that she was nuts and was cool just putting up with. But I guess one gets drawn back in sometimes. Other people have had much much worse, but I'm only me and there's this one thing.
So I'm feeling, actually, catharsis-y. And pretty certainly disinherited.
love
Alexis
I don't think I have the most amazing therapist, but I think he's basically passable and maybe this is what the "working on" "dealing with" which I have been not understanding the meaning of is about perhaps. I feel a little asanine because I have Everything Else in the world aside from a mother with whom I'm on the same page and who doesn't think I'm extremely disturbed / dead with a new girl in my place. That's just one thing. I have an entire supportive fun wildly functional family in addition to hers and a brother and sisters who I'm sure are completely my friends and family even on hers. Growing up, eventhough I was punished willy nilly, I had crazy great friends and still do.
But maybe even at 28 you have to face reality sometimes and weep on the street about whatever your baggage is. Which you don't get to pick. Maybe the weeping is kind of the dealing.
Since le breakdown, I've been kind of walking around in this daze of thinking about it. Doesn't feel bad - just a little out of body. These are the times people ask you out on the street by the way. When you're walking around in post-breakdown world mind-reviewing what you articulated even if only to yourself times. When you might have remembered to put on makeup if you'd remembered to brush your teeth or eat anything in two days (don't get me wrong - my dress, shoes, and sunglasses still looked damn good - I was just out of body in my head). This lawyer guy was all hey aren't we walking down the same street on the very same day yesterday and I gave him my number and went to his office for a drink (he has a bar in his office? More like alcohol in a cabinet and a plastic shaker with ice) after work. Well he's divorced with two kids. And says "Copa" for good. But he's pretty nice and I guess we'll date during the summer. 2 kids is a lotta kids though. I wanna date everyone all kinds this summer.
Yesterday I was sort of smiling all day because my mom's big thing is that I was disobedient which I dispute with her but - heh ha - is really completely true. ;)She continues to defend trying to physically remove me from a friend's house when she'd really upset me calling me dirty and punishing me as usual over finding out about me having had sex. So, basically, I went to a friend's house for the night to calm down and I disobeyed when she ordered me to go home with her and she tried to drag me out of there and I wouldn't budge and it was all so dramatic and awful that suddenly the world made sense and I called my dad and I went and lived with him for the rest of high school (one month) and summer before college. I am like the Ghandi of my own mental health. It wasn't civil disobedience; it was free-Alexis disobedience.
I do get upset about the whole obedience argument because I think obedience is the primary thing for dogs, soldiers, and maybe, uh, geishas, but not seventeen year old girls with As and Bs and "withdraw passing"s in Math and very messy rooms. So while I tell her - look I wasn't remarkably disobedient - the complex idea I don't get to with her is well of course it WAS disobedience - it was like civil disobedience - it just wasn't for any cause other than myself.
So yeah. So the question I still have is do I have to do this again every ten years or something? It seems kind of juvenile. But if I don't hurt anybody I guess it's not that bad, just sort of embarassing. Oddly, I thought I had accepted that she was nuts and was cool just putting up with. But I guess one gets drawn back in sometimes. Other people have had much much worse, but I'm only me and there's this one thing.
So I'm feeling, actually, catharsis-y. And pretty certainly disinherited.
love
Alexis
Monday, May 18, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
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
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
Thursday, April 16, 2009
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
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
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