My best Dita Von Teeze...

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Guinea Pig

I’ve been thinking about love lately, mostly about the nature of love. I have lots of love for my friends and family and been in love three times, but I don’t really know much about the elusive feeling. Is love about yourself or your beloved? Do you really helplessly fall in love or is it a choice based on conscious or unconscious influences all around you? Why do you fall in love with one person and not another? Is love about passion, commonalities or even biology? Can you stop loving someone? Does love really exist or is it just a name we give a complex mixture of hormones, chemicals and nerve endings?

Each time I’ve been in love it has been unique, which makes sense because they were all with different individuals. The feelings range from intense passion to warm fuzzies to frustrating discomfort to absolute heartbreak, but it’s always felt right to call it love. One was adolescent naïveté, the next was an instant smack in the face and the last one kind of crept up on me by surprise. None of them worked out.

I crave understanding more than anything else, but I’m not sure I’m going to ever understand love. I do want to understand myself, so I’m going to do a little experiment for my own comprehension. I’m going to ask myself these questions: What is love to me? How do I want to love? How should I express it in my life? How has my history affected my ability to love? How can I answer the questions in the first paragraph? Is my love good?

I think I’m going to write a play about this.

Take a picture it'll last longer...

After spending most of Friday controlling a mild case of vertigo while throwing very large ‘holiday’ wreaths off a catwalk ten feet off the ground, I was told that most of them would have to be hauled back up. Needless to say, I got a great workout and am a little less afraid of heights now. I do like this job. It’s active yet it allows me time to think. I’ve already thought up some ideas for my senior project (I’m writing a play) which I hope to finish before next March. The people I work with are cool, the commute is short and I don’t have to answer emails or do paperwork.

I find that in my life, when it rains it pours. I start having sex again. Then I get a job. Then my social life picks up. Now I have two guys I met online calling me up and wanting to go on dates. Then my friend, Carlos called to invite me to a party this Thursday. I’m booked the next few weekends and my kitty greets me when I get home from work.

Last year at this time I was just in my sister’s wedding and recently fired from a job after three and a half days. There were illness and car accidents. And on top of it I wasn’t getting any touch. Not that I really wanted to have sex. I didn’t want to do anything except to crawl up in bed, pull the covers over my head and drown in my beautiful sorrow.

I’m here now. I made it through the last year of my life. It’s gone and I’m here now in the living room of a house in Montclair, California. And I think I’m happy. Nothing is certain and I’m happy none the less.

Go figure.

Too. Sleepy. To. Blog.

Started a new job yesterday. Hard work sucks. And I miss Oprah.

"If [the women] can't afford to get to San Francisco to have an abortion, how can they afford to raise a child?"

I thought I was pretty safe living in California being such a pro-choice state, but many abortion services are becoming more difficult to obtain in the Sunshine State. Yeah, it's a great way to make us women to pay for our actions...

Cooking with Feminists!

I have been waiting for this clip to come on YouTube because it's one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time. It's from a recent episode of The Colbert Report when he had Jane Fonda and Gloria Steinem on a segment called "Cooking with Feminists". Enjoy!

Editor's Note: Take a look at the comments on this clip, especially MMMisterDNA. Charming. What is up with all this hostility? Jeez, calm the fuck down, MMMisterDNA and I just might let men back in the media. And that's a big maybe.

It takes a licking and keeps on ticking...

This clip from the Daily Show with Jon Stewart is pick your jaw up off the floor crazy! It's an interview with writer David Rakoff about a conversation he had with a member of the GOP, while writing his book, Don't Get Too Comfortable.

Jesus H. Christ, I'm laughing to keep from crying.

Muppetity Goodness

This makes me laugh.

If you disagree, I want a ten page paper on my desk by Friday, (single spaced and in New Times Roman) explaining why you have no sense of humor.

It's true!!

That I have a big crush on Jason Schwartzman! Especially since I found out that he loves cuteoverload.com! It’s true!

It's all true!!

That my sister looks like Laura Linney! Look for yourself! It’s true! It’s true!

Why would I say it if it weren't true?! Why!??!

That my kitty, Nala, is the sweetest fluffiest kitty in the whole world! Yes, she is! With her fat tummy and fluffy face! Yes, I do love her! She always pukes on my phone and sits on my books, but she's still my wittle fluffy one!! It's true! All of it!

It's so very true! Why don't you believe me??!! It's true! Lying is wrong and I won't do it!

That Swedish Fish are tasty and come in bigger bags for more tasty fun! Yep! You know what I'm gonna say! IT'S TRUE!!


So very true.

Albertson's on a Friday night

Maybe it's the full moon, but I’m just antsy right now. It got so bad that I got in my car and went for a drive around Upland. Driving around has always lead to interesting thoughts, especially in my hometown. I drove past an El Pollo Loco and suddenly thought of a supervisor I used to have. He was the first and only boss who yelled at me. He wanted me to stay late, I protested and he slammed his hand on the counter and yelled, “You can just leave if you don’t like it!” I wanted to just walk out and I should’ve, but I didn’t want to let anyone down. I was eighteen and hadn’t ever stood up for myself.

Then I drove past a movie theater I used to frequent when going out with my then boyfriend, Craig. Once we went and all the movies we wanted to see were sold out; so we watched Nixon. If anyone knew Craig, you would know that Nixon wasn't the kind of movie he would pay to see in a theater. During the movie he kept trying to make-out, but I started to get into the movie. I kept telling him to watch the movie, but he kept trying anyway. If I had known that was the only chance I would get to make-out in a movie theater, I would’ve gone for it.

I went to a grocery store and went on a weird shopping spree. I bought four magazines (Glamour, Domino, Jane and People), a box of Milk Duds, vanilla and lavender scented laundry soap, a bottle of Mt. Dew, Coke Black and a curling iron. At the register the cutie bagboy looked at the People magazine and said, “Whoa, someone shot up Amish people?” When I got past the amazement and sorrow of ignorant youth, I was sad that I had to be witness to this young man’s world becoming a bit more real and darker. He was now aware that he lives in a world where a man will go shoot little Amish girls for no reason.

Right now I’m watching What’s Up, Doc? with Ryan O’Neal and Barbara Streisand and is the very definition of a screwball comedy. I’m not a big fan of Ms. Streisand but I just love her in this movie. One-liners aplenty:

Judy: I know I'm different, but from now on I'm going to try and be the same.
Howard: The same as what?
Judy: The same as people who aren't different.

The story of my life.

Don't ask me why...

...but something about this turns me on.

Yay!

I sent in my application for school today and if all goes well then I'll be starting school this spring.

Last night I was searching the online want ads and it just depressed the hell out of me. I was also riding a minor anxiety attack which didn't help either. All the jobs were as someone else's bitch; administrative assistant, office manager, receptionist, customer service, blah, blah, blah... It strengthened my resolve for a self-determined life. I know that we always have to answer to someone, but I guess as a woman in this society, I want to answer to as few people as possible.

Anyhoo, I’m very sleepy and want to change into my comfy pants.

Keep Fighting!

I usually have an emotional disconnect from the sites and blogs I read online, but I just love Feministing! I have learned so much and the community of writers and readers are just the neatest people ever. It's made me a stronger feminist and even more determined in my focus to defend women's, as well as human, rights. A link to the site is on my sidebar, but I feel it is worth a blog posting of it's very own.

It rocks!! Go read it!!

From the The Journal of Sexual Medicine, the Sexiest Journal of Medicine there is...

It turns out I'm not an oversexed, horny nymphet afterall.

Go figure.

Wig in a Box

I have nothing. This was shown to me in obscene Technicolor recently. It’s even worse when something is put in front of you then its gone. Then it’s the same as before, but you can’t fake it for some reason. You can’t live in the ignorance that you were wrong or crazy and be fine in that place like before. I don’t like disclosure because I always want more, but I rarely get what I want.

I set my life up this way.

I feel like every distraction has been taken away and I’m left alone and naked. I can’t hide. I’m exposed and judged. And I’m hanging my head low.

I’m angry. I give sideways glances that turn men into stone. I’m unable to write complex sentences. Not that I did much of that.

I’m a housewife outta Pozac. I’m a smiling image of Andrea Yates surrounded by a brood of children. I am a single faithful Christian woman sitting in the front row with a bible on my lap. I am a drag queen at dawn walking home, with cracked make-up and a lopsided wig. I’m Paris Hilton as she turns on the lights in her apartment, puts her keys down and looks in the mirror.

I am empty and hollow, but aren’t we all?

Ladies and Gentlemen...The Dildo Diaries

Texas is a funny, funny place.

Mean Reds

Just when I’m feeling cute, my friends post a bunch of pictures of me online and they just make me want to cry. I look as chubby as ever, my skin is awful and I have flat hair. I hate crying over this shit, it’s so shallow. I hate how my self-worth is wrapped up in such petty constructs like my looks and body image, but I don’t have much else going for me right now. I have no job or love life and to top it all off, I feel ugly.

I’m going to die alone in a nursing home. They’ll wrap me up in trash bags and leave me out on the curb with the rest of the garbage. My only legacy will be this whiff of pathetic desperation that fills my lonely little room. And maybe some cute shoes.

Sigh.