I Moved...Virtually!

Lips Unzipped has moved to krystalfawn.com

Please check out her writing at the new location.

All About Bitter Unloving Love.

So, last night I realized something really glaringly obvious.

The bigger the crush I have the more unavailable the guy.

That's right. I came to the conclusion that I like the unattainable; guys who are in different countries, guys who are best friends with guys "I like," guys who have girlfriends, guys who would never ever like me back; those are the guys I get fluttery about. Because I can get fluttery in a safe space and not have to worry about reciprocity.

Or putting in any effort.

The other big realization last night.

I'm more upset about the amount of effort I put into a relationship than any thing else. Because there is no proof that I put any effort into anything. If I had spent that time writing or reading or working there would be literal things to show that I did that. But when a relationship ends, all that effort just vanishes as well.

So why even do it?

Why not put the effort into writing or reading or working instead?

What is a relationship for any way?

Particularly a monogamous romantic relationship?

To prove some capitalistic point that someone values you more than they value others?

Does it really matter if one person values you more than everyone else?

I can plenty of love from family and friends.

And I can get sex by raising my hand and saying, "yes please."

So. What I'm saying is that I don't understand the hype. The desire. The want.

Why there is so much emphasis on it?

Is it because it's ridiculous and pointless and since everyone else feels they have to do it, I have to feel that way too?

Don't think so.

I mean, no offense if you're in one and it's "the best thing ever;" I just don't think it's the best-thing-ever for everyone. Particularly myself.

I'm going to disregard my unattainable crushes and start putting more effort into writing, reading, work.

Because results happen there. And I can see them.

The Soundtrack to My Life.

I asked a friend what I should blog about and he suggested the soundtrack of my life, so here is an attempt. Perhaps it will enlighten you all on why I am the way I am.

While in my mom's womb I listened to quite a bit of Bob Seger:



And then throughout my childhood, he never really went away.

In elementary school I went through a "country phase" that lasted just one year BUT it was quite the impactful year.

My cousin was obsessed with Mariah Carey. Which meant I was too.

My cousin even wrote her a letter and got back a "signed" 8x10. I was jealous. But not jealous enough to write my own letter.

I spent a lot of time at my grandparents house. I made up dances to Salt N Pepa; one of their favorite albums (no, they're not black).

I remember the moment at my bff's house when we switched over from the "pop" radio station to the alternative one. I didn't get why it was no longer cool to listen to Back Street Boys and it was suddenly cool to listen to this guy whining about being a loser. I didn't like it at first; I think this was a huge turning point for me. I had to adjust my taste to fit in. I think deep down I'll always secretly be a pop princess (which, probably makes me a loser, baby).

(I saw Beck live in Chicago many many years later. He was wearing a lot of really pale foundation and a big floppy hat. This couple right next to us kept making out during his show. I thought it was a travesty they were so "in love" that they were missing one of the greatest musicians of our generation, but whatever).

And then, I went through a heavy metal phase in high school, duh.

It was a pretty intense phase as things in high school tend to be.

Because I was obviously so freakish.

The only all-girl heavy metal band... they got seriously overplayed in my car stereo. (Actually they still get overplayed when I'm aaanngggrrryyyy...which is often enough.)

Yeah. Why did I listen to this again?

I have this list in my journal from high school about what I was looking for in a boyfriend... one criteria was that he had to know all the words to the entire Slipknot/Slipknot album... yeah, he would have been a keeper...if only I had found him. (Maybe I'll post the list tomorrow????)

(My roommate Emily had to leave the room while I was putting the high school section together...that's how amazing this time of my life was... haha)

Missy Elliott made a big impact in high school too. I dedicated this song to one of my many suiters after a strange encounter at a party. (And when I say many, I mean the one guy who kind of liked me off and on from like 8th grade to senior year--and also liked my best friend, and her friend and her friend--yeah, that guy.)

Mostly though, my best friend and I would just play Missy out of her car stereo and dance around outside (or inside depending on if we were "Cruising"). (Also developed amazing car dancing skills by driving around listening to her over and over again).

I had a high school boyfriend. Let me tell you all what happened with that. I was a senior. He was a freshman. I was a leopard, he was a kitten. I went off to college. I went off to college.

Yeah so that didn't work out. He later became a preacher. This still freaks me out to this day.

Here's a song that sort of explains that relationship. . .

Then there was undergrad.

The Blue Album happened a lot. As well as Sublime.

I had another boyfriend during this time. We did theater together. He was an asshole. Like, I've never dated or even hung out with a bigger asshole then this guy. I also drank ALOT during this time. Probably because my boyfriend was making fun of my Korn collection (while he was jamming out to My Chemical Romance...not kidding).

Then I moved out of the dorms into a real-life apartment, in a basement that had two showers and two stalls in the bathroom. Asshole boyfriend and I broke up. Then I started dating artsy-fartsy-musician neighbor boy. That worked out pretty well. I mean. It worked out for like 5.5 years. But during that still undergrad post-dorm time I was dancing A LOT... often to one of my favorite bands of all time, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Fuck I'm old. This is still going. . .

Grad School.

Riot grrrl and womyn love.

Patti Smith is my favorite artist of all time.

Riot grrrl paved the way for my creative thesis project (Pervertable Tongues...so there's that).

Then I moved to Boulder. It was a rocky year. I mean, both literally from like hiking and stuff and then figuratively dealing with transitions and being out of school and not really having a job and the dissolving of what I thought was going to be a life-time sort of relationship.

After that there was "The Break-up" and during that time I pretty much listened to Robyn and EMA excessively.

And now there is now.

Today.

What's my song for today?

Minus the heels. I'd like to find me someone who wants to pay my rent and my student loan debt. I think I can do this!

But it will probably be more like this:

Theme Song for the Year:

All-time Favorite Album that Will Always Be Important to Me Every Year for the Rest of My Life: Fiona Apple/Tidal.

And there you have it. The Soundtrack to My Life. Wow.

I Think All I Think Are Random Thoughts These Days.

My mom told me to change my facebook profile pictures because she said I looked ugly in it. Okay. Not really. But she said she didn't like it. It reminded her of someone she no longer likes. Someone I no longer like. So, of course I had to change it. But I've had the same profile pic for like a month and that is a record for me. I usually change it every other day. Facebook profiles are a pretty good indicator of a person's personality. Like a second first impression. An online impression. Which is basically a first impression for your online personality. Some people have distinctly two... a reality personality and an online one. Some people are pretty balanced. I don't know what I am. Balanced is probably not it.

You know what I really don't like but also really like right now? My hair.

I've decided I'm going to grow it out over the winter and then chop it back off into a pixie in the spring. I'm doing this for multiple reasons. The biggest reasons are that I'm poor and I'm lazy. I've been wearing lots of weird cloth scarf things in my hair and not really combing it. This look works well for me. Because I don't give a fuck. And it's so obvious with my appearance.

I wonder what will happen when I get a job interview? Because I will get a job interview. People want me right now. I'm like a cat. Which is weird because I'm allergic to cats. But I think that's why people want me. I have cat-like tendencies to not give you love when you want love. And to rub all over your leg when you don't want me to touch you.

Which is exactly what employers are after....right?

IDK.

I don't really care either. Like, I want to work. And I work hard. And I work well. But if people are going to be jackasses about hiring me because 10,000 other people are also applying for the job, fine. Whatever. I'll move on with my life. I'll be a cat and take a nap in the sun.

I really need to start blogging about actual things, I think. Maybe not. Whatever. Fuck it. Live it up. Do what you want.

Seriously. Best. Advice. Ever.

Do what you want (and get paid for it).

It can happen. You just have to bbbeeelliieeevvveee.

Maybe.

We'll see if this believing thing really works out.

Meow.

5 Random Thoughts: Liking, Loving, Working Or Doing None of the Above.

1) Beds

Sometimes it's nice to sleep next to another person. But really. Sleeping alone is so fantastic. You can sleep however you want. For example, last night I slept at the base of the bed sideways. You can't do that shit with someone else there. Also, my favorite way to sleep is diagonally, if I ever end up sleeping more permanently with a person they're going to have to deal with that.

2) Love

I know many of you are wondering about my "dating" life. There are like threeish people I like right now and one guy I sort-of kind-of maybe love....but only from afar. That's right. I am enjoying the art of loving someone from afar knowing that it would never work out, but appreciating the presence of this creature on the universe, and wishing him the best possible happiness life has to offer. It's nice. Because I don't have to worry in any way about making him happy or even expressing my love, I can just keep it hidden inside my heart, only for me. At least I know love hasn't completely faded frommy emotional spectrum--though dealing with it in any sort of productive way is probably going to take at least another year. For now, showing my "liking" is as far as I'll go. The guy I sort-of kind-of maybe love, will forever be the one who got away, because maybe he just represents the illusion of love anyway. IDK.

3) Bras

I've been thinking about bras and boobs a lot recently. The past few days I've been lounging around in my bra but it doesn't seem to actually do its job. Like, I'll be laying there and my boob is just hanging out--wtf? Why even wear it? Also, sometimes when I take my bra off I like immediately want to have sex. Does this happen to anyone else? I don't know if it's just this subconscious reaction because sometimes when I take a bra off I do have sex, so maybe it's some pavlovian thing. Or maybe it just has to do with the fact that my nipples are no longer being protected by like 2 inches of padding and are free in the world to be stimulated by outside forces (aka cotton t-shirts). Again. IDK.

4) Tea

So, for the last week I've been sick. And it wasn't until my lawyer friend hooked me up with sudafed like 4 days into the cold that I was finally able to breathe (lawyer friends are smart) but then I also started making this amazing cold concoction. I take 1/4 teaspoon of dried ginger, a pinch of cayenne pepper, a squirt of agave and two capfuls of lemon juice and I mixed it with boiling water--like tea without the tea. Ginger is supposed to be a flu killer and is really good for immunity and circulation. I think I'm just going to drink this drink all of the time now. The cold is like 88% gone. Yay. Finally.

5) Work

Yeah, so I tried to file for unemployment. I was not approved. Shock Shock. So, I need a paying job. If any of you know of anything that would be amazing. My talents include but are not limited to, judging people, making fun of people, acting like I'm listening to people, looking at people with weird expressions on my face, laughing a lot, drinking excessively... oh fuck I should just be bartender. If you know of anywhere that would let me be a bartender. . . please hook a sister up.

Almost Streamlined Stream of Consciousness: Manics, Amish, and Sexy Sex.

For awhile I was worried that I was becoming a manic depressant, but today I realized it's just the Colorado weather that's affecting my mindset. Yesterday, I was walking around in a t-shirt and today it's a freaking blizzard outside. EEwwww I'm so happy and sunny. Booooo I'm so sad and snowy. Manic? I think very much so.

(me and the weather being manic together)

Also our apartment is still cold. The heat is still not working and we've been here technically a month now. One of the coldest months out of the year--you think if "heat was included" they'd try a little harder to "include" it... or maybe they're just trying to be funny.

I wish I was funny. Instead I just make funny looks, which weird people out or offend them--either way.

I wish my face was better at lying. Seriously. It would save me a world of trouble.

Speaking of trouble, I could use some better drugs to combat this cold. I should probably attempt an all-natural route with garlic and ginger and tea and whiskey--maybe some gingerwhiskeytea? But knocking myself out with nyquil seems to be making it slightly tolerable. Morphine though? Codeine? Opium? Opium is from nature right?

I've always wanted to drink opium tea while wearing a floor length dress, long hair in a bun, and just stare out the kitchen window wishing my life wasn't so abysmally boring. You know, like women used to do back in the day.

I feel like the Amish fireplace isn't doing much to heat up the room. I wonder if the Amish laugh at us for actually owning these things, since they themselves can't use electricity. And actually have to create their own fire places with real wood and everything. Romantic. Rugged. Real.

I have to confess. I've always wanted to do an Amish dude. Not one of them with a beard...they're married anyway. But for sure one of them right before they'e married with the whole get-up, hat, side burns, suspenders. Some of them are really cute. What? It's not the weirdest fantasy. Give me a break.

Well, I look like complete shit. No wonder no one from OK Cupid has contacted me recently--they can sense it. They know that I am ill and not in any way looking sexy. Which means I don't want to be sexy with them. Not that I ever have wanted to, but they know it's really not going to happen now.

I wish there were Amish guys on OKC...too bad they can't use electricity. Or can they now? How do they get away with making things work with electricity? It would be kind of nice to live off the land with little to no advanced technology. Unfortunately their ideas of gender equality are as outdated as their technology so.... no thank you. I prefer my pixie cut and my pants (and my internets).

Readers Select Blog Topics: Round 1

1) Boobs

Earlier I somehow spilled my drink down my cleavage and gravity directed it into my bra where it sat and soaked into my push-up padding like a sponge. It was a super gross feeling. I'm still trying to figure out how exactly it missed my shirt entirely yet somehow managed to fill up my boobs. It was like a pond in there.

2) Kurt Cobain

In this interview they say to not get a job. Of all people, they should know. I'll just start a band that will make people obsessed with me. I will become the next Mary Magdalene of Rock. Yeaaahh!!! Or I'll learn to play pool. Either way.

3) Double Dick Tricks

My roommate's friend came over while I was coming up with blog topics and he told me about these very rare disease called Diphallia-penile duplication. Anyway, this man with two dicks ended up falling in love with this woman who happened to have two vaginas. This is a true story. I don't know if I have much to say about this except it seemed like the obvious choice in selecting a mate... whereas for everyone else, we have a much more difficult time figuring out what fits.

4) Gross Flavored Jelly Beans

Should probably just not ever buy these things.

5) Kathleen Hanna

Sometimes I get really upset because I didn't know who Kathleen Hanna was at a younger age. Like, if I knew what the riot grrrls were doing when they were doing it I would have turned out so much more badass than I am. But, such is life and eventually I did discover her and the movement and that's all that matters.

**Bonus** Pegging

For all of you who are unaware, pegging is a term advice columnist Dan Savage + readers came up with for the sex act that consists of a woman strapping on a dildo and penetrating her male partner. I'm pretty sure it's a heterosexual term... not sure if a woman can "peg" another woman, though I don't know why she couldn't or why it would need to be called something else. In any case, I have never pegged anyone before, but don't worry it's on my to-do list. And I'm sure I can find some dude from OK Cupid that would be into it. (Though it's not a top priority).

Music Monday: Put It In a Fruit Machine?

Well.

I am a fever.

Because I woke up with one.

I wasn't born typical. And I'm not happy about being sick. Again.

I was going to be productive today.

Was.

Now I'm just going to sleep (and probably watch Skins when I get tired of sleeping).

Am I a Blabber Mouth?

Sometimes I think I may be too open with people. I think this blog may be a perfect example of this problem. Why I feel the need to say everything I'm thinking; or tell people I just met the entire truth of my past relationships I have no idea. A part of me is like, they should know everything so they don't think I'm a liar or secretive or something. But maybe they don't need to know everything all at once. Which is sort of my problem. I like everyone to know everything. I can't keep secrets about myself, though I'm really good at keeping other people's secrets.

And yet at the same time I feel that most people have absolutely no idea what I'm really doing with my day, with my dates, with my life. But that's okay because I have no idea what they're doing with their day, their dates, their lives. So. I guess this argument with myself is pointless.

Perhaps what's really going on is that I'm keeping secrets about myself from myself and this blog and me blabbing to everyone is a way for me to hide from myself about those secrets.

Inside I'm just a scared, guilty, sad little girl who never feels good enough, thin enough, smart enough, fun enough--no matter how many people tell me otherwise. No matter how much I tell myself otherwise. No matter how much I want to be an empowered feminist who loves her body and her mind and her soul, the truth is I got some issues. And I feel the more I talk, the more I write, the more I say, the sooner they will go away.

Though I've been writing and talking a lot lately and nothings really changed. . .

I wonder if the opposite would work better?

9 Random Thoughts: On My Day So Far.

1) It's annoying to see people out running while it's snowing outside, but what's even worse than that is to see couples running together while it's snowing. They're so fit and they're so cute weee, weee, weee, barf.

(seriously, don't these kinds of images make you die a little bit on the inside?)

2) I went to a thrift store today and got the most badass Monica-Lewinsky-blue late 80's style dress. It takes hardcore yoga moves to zip myself into it, but totally worth it.

3) I looked out the window early and there was a leash-less dog taking a mega crap in the neighbors yard. Then it nonchalantly ran off in the other direction. No owner was ever spotted. These are the amazing highlights of Denver living.

4) If I were a Gossip Girl character I think I'd be. . . Vanessa. But I'd never ever ever fuck Dan. So nevermind. I'd be Blair. If I were a Skins character I'd be Frankie---though I haven't seen this entire season yet, so that might not be true. I'd want to be Effie but I'll never be that crazycool.

5) My second date is tonight. I have no idea what to wear; this is not a surprising sentence I am aware of that... how can I be cute, comfortable and slightly sexy all at once? I'll figure it out. No. I will not wear the Monica-Lewinski dress.

6) There is one place in Denver where you can go in and hang out for like 10 minute or 3 hours and no matter what you'll escape smelling like an ashtray. It's weird because there's so many smoke-free places now. I'm not a fan of this. Happy I wasn't a drunk in 1979.

7) I feel like I live in the perfect building to get a stalker. These open windows. These ok cupid daters that know where I live-ish.

8) It's a red wine kind of day. But more than likely I'm just whine all day.

9) I've been thinking about how I'd really like a nickname. But you can't give yourself a nickname. And I never did anything cute enough to get one when I was younger, you know like"Tootie" or "Fartbags"... and I'm not badass enough currently to have someone want to call me something other than Krystal. I did have a woman explain to me that Krystal is a stripper name, so I guess, my real name is already a nickname and I should start taking my clothes off for money.

10 Random Thoughts: Food, Dates, Disorders.

1) I realize now why women often date older men. They have jobs. They have cars. They have their own place where they actually clean-up after themselves. They can have conversations that revolve around more than whether or not The Wire was the greatest show ever made.

2) The biggest problem with OK Cupid is that I want to go check out this guy I had drinks with last night, but he'd totally know I was checking him out unless I browsed anonymously, but then I wouldn't be able to see who was checking me out *sigh*

3) And I'm going on a second date. First second date. Work it.

4) I'd like to openly admit something. I'm afraid that I am developing a slight eating disorder. I know it has to do with control. I love food and I can control that love. Lately I've enjoyed feeling hallow. That hallow feeling of hungry. No one worry. This is just a phase. I know I'll get my appetite back and then I'll have to start working out again.

5) I will do almost anything to get out of writing something until the very last day that it needs to be written. I mean, I will even do the dishes. And that's saying a lot. Uggh the writing life.

6) Dots are the best candy ever made. And they're vegan so life is good.

7) Being vegan has been hard recently. Not hard like I haven't been able to do it, but everyone I've been hanging out with has been giving me shit about it. Fuck off, I don't eat dead animals/ animal products. And I don't sit around bitching about you doing it. So leave me in peace.

8) Fucking Skins. Every season. Is so gggreeeaattt!!! So many drugs. So much sex. Why couldn't I have gone to high school in the U.K.? Probably for the best, I would have ended up pregnant or in jail or dead. And I don't like the idea of any of those things.

9) There must be a lot of drunk drivers on any given night in the city. Any city. Just imagine if two people are out on a date. And two more people are out on a date. And a group of people are at a show. And three alcoholics have been in the bar all day. And the soccer moms' just had a girls night out. I'm just surprised everyone usually makes it out okay. I hope I don't jinx anyone. TAKE THE BUS.

10) Something magical is going to happen this weekend. Something magical. I can feel it.

It Was All Already Clear: But I Couldn't Stop It.

A couple of weeks ago my friend read my tarot cards. My immediate-future card said that there would be much death.

Well.

All my plants died.

I wrecked my car.

I had my period.

And today I basically lost my job.

So, death much, yes.

Very much yes.

I can hear my mother an entire state away, sighing, “I told you so.”

And I can hear my roommate, 15 blocks away at her real-life-paying-job, groaning, “gggrreeaatt.”

But. Dear Friends and Family.

I have no fear.

It will all become clear. Soon enough. My future-future card looks BRIGHT!!! And my horoscope said that this year I’d become famous—which would only be like a year off from the time prediction that the Native-American-Meth-Head woman gave me in Hays five years ago right before Virgin and the Bandits played.

Yeah, so I just have to believe.

And probably put some effort into life.

Actually. I was thinking the other day that I need to learn how to read tarot cards now that I inherited a deck from my friend . . . perhaps I can start charging for that. I don’t know if I could make $500 a month doing it, but maybe enough to keep me in beer. . .

Also. I’ve been thinking about all of us who have degrees in the “arts” and how most of us are unemployed or underemployed or shitty-employed and how most of our days are spent wanking off in one way or the other—whether it’s wasting our time applying to jobs we don’t really want while streaming Netflix tv shows, or waiting tables to have enough money for rent and beer but little else—we are wanking wankers. And what we need to be is creators. We need to unite and make something together. Even if it’s low-budget (because it has to be). At least it would be better than mediocrity. We’d feel accomplished. We’d feel that even though we’re not quite fitting into mainstream capitalist culture at least we’re fitting in the way of feeling productive. Think about it; if everyone who wasn't really doing much actually did something...wwwoooaahhh!! crazy time.

I’m currently accepting applications for others to join me in this endeavor. And by applications, I mean, tell me you’re in.

To new, new, beginnings!

The Art of Being a Twat.

I feel like a twat.

I don't even know what a twat is, just that they say it a lot in Skins and I'm guessing it's like the British word for "cunt."

Am I spiraling out of control? It feels like I may be.

It's because I am in the middle of complete indecision. I can't figure out what I want. And so, I think I'm taking that out on everyone I know. Not everyone I know, but a lot of people. My intentions aren't evil I swear, the problem is, I'm not really thinking through my intentions.

I'm just sucking at life.

I try to be thoughtful and caring and considerate but I can't be those things all the time. I can't be anything all of the time.

I feel like I've wrapped myself in invisible bubble wrap so as to prevent any sort of feelings or love or hate from penetrating my heart.

I am Chuck Bass.

But even Bass found love with Blair (I know eventually they break up even though I haven't gotten that far in the series).

Even cold distant manipulative Chuck Bass opened his heart for at least one and a half seasons.

I on the other hand just want to hide under the bubble wrap.

It should be okay for me to do right? It's my protection during this heartbreak recovery.

Often though, I think what bothers me more than anything is that my heart doesn't really feel broken. Because I don't feel anything. And that's the scary part. I've been listening to all these breakup songs, trying to figure out how I'm actually supposed to feel this, to react to it, and I get it, I mean I understand how other people have felt, but for me really it's just numbness.

I've had several people ask me why I even bothered joining an online dating site if I wasn't going to take it seriously. I think they know the answer to this, but they just want to hear me say it. I obviously want to feel wanted. Even if I don't really want to want any one right now. And yeah, that's fucked up but I can't help it.

I know deep down that I'm smartbeautifulfun, whatever, but surface, I don't feel it right now. I have enough confidence to get through the day. But not enough to imagine my future.

Or really to even think of what I'm doing to other people.

I should probably hide for awhile. The problem is, if I hide I'm afraid I will never reemerge.

So instead I'm self destructing in public.

Enjoy the show, I suppose, because it's going to be awhile before I save myself.

(I've been crying to this song since 1997, here's to another year and another layer of meaning!)

9 Random Thoughts: Mostly About Doodes.

1) Has anyone else noticed at parties or bars or shows that a lot of guys go to the bathroom a ridiculous amount of times in a night? Once I was hanging out with this guy and I swear he went to the bathroom like 8 times in the course of two bands playing. Not only that but they spend a lot of time in there too. What are you guys doing? I am so curious.

2) I made this hummus with lentils, which I've never done before, it's weird, the texture reminds me of play-doh, which really kind of freaks me out.

3) I think I'm addicted to the internet.

4) I started making this painting the other day using the olive oil left over in a container that had once held stuffed grape leaves, so the olive oil was this cool green color. Anyway... I'm wondering if it's okay to use olive oil on a canvas....like is it just going to rot? And if it does, should I just write some deep philisphical meaning about the piece, like, "with this painting I am expressing how art and life, life and art is always changing. This is about the cycle of creation, the cycle of existence; we're here and we slowly decay." IDK. I think I could pull off being a visual artist. If I wanted to.

5) I almost lost 1-4 because I clicked the wrong button. Lucky for you all, I saved it right in the nick of time.

6) Also, pretty happy I got this iSkin for the holidays, since I just dropped play-doh hummus on my computer. This is why I needed a keyboard condom.

7) Speaking of condoms. . .what a weird but necessary invention. I wonder who I'm going to have sex with in 2012? I totally just went to OK Cupid to browse through my potential prospects. It's not looking promising. Although there are plenty of doodes that wanna fuck me. Gross.

8) Why do doodes think that just because they talk to me I am automatically going to want to have sex with them? Just because I like having sex (which most people do) it doesn't mean I want to have it with just any one.

9) OMG OKC is distracting! I did find a cute one, finally. We'll see how this goes. Wish me luck.

I Think I Am a Ghost: Champagne Resolutions For All That Will Be New.

I resolve to revolve around myself more

to smoke cigarettes and take more drugs

to find fun in the mundane window panes

and spackled paint jobs

to get more sun

I resolve to involve more people in my schemes

to read fashion magazines and blow off

steam by rhyming words with dream

so it seems, it's hard to stop

but that's okay.

I resolve to dissolve all my drama

as quickly as soap bubbles in water

Dawn not just a grease fighter

stain booster, but drama reducer

staying clean and fresh

like lemon zest

I resolve to evolve as a positive life force

of sun goddess quality

growth unbuttoned

a blouse in the breeze.

I resolve to solve

all mysteries

I resolve to solve

all mysteries.

I Did It All for A Cookie: A Rant on D-Bags At Bars.

Last night I was at this show at the Skylark and I swear to you one of those really bad OK Cupid profiles came to life. I was standing up front watching the band and these two doode-bros drunkenly came up right beside me, totally unaware of the space the were invading; my space. I was like, “I am not moving because of these assholes.” Then of course one of them bumps into me and does the whole, “uuhhhh yo saarreeee” thing. And continues to not move out of my way. It only got worse when this woman joined them and started swinging her hair all around. I could smell her shampoo. I was afraid pieces of her hair were going to fall into my beer. Or like her dandruff or something. (I don’t know how clean these people are.) Anyway. The one doode who ran into me looked like a skinny wiener version of Fred Durst circa 1999. And then. This is what sold it. He lifted up his shirt. Just like they all do in those photos in front of the mirror. Yeah, he lifted up his shirt to expose his skinny muscled abs to the girl whipping her hair back and forth. I guess this must be some sort of new mating ritual I don’t quite understand. Did this start with Jersey Shore and “The Situation?” I don’t know because I only have seen that crew on talk shows and all he ever does is objectify himself. Was this Durst character objectifying himself in an attempt to get laid by the hair-whipper?

It didn’t work.

She disappeared. Then this other woman came to take her place. And Dirty Durst was on top of his game. She took the bait, even as he sloppily spilled beer all over his face and shirt (that was no longer pulled up). I could no longer watch the scene because what I wanted to do was punch the guy in the face. Something about him just rubbed me the wrong way. I think it was probably the realization that guys on OKC that do the shirt/ab/mirror thing actually exist in real life. And they can easily be in the same room with me without me being able to do anything about it, except leave of course. And why should I have to leave because some wangsta-wanna-be-loved-hated-at-the-same-time doode can’t function in a socially appropriate way in front of me?

Yes, there is socially appropriate behavior at shows. Being a sloppy drunk, taking up too much space, and generally splaying about isn’t appropriate. We’re all used to it, be we don’t like it.

I mean, are there people out there that like getting bumped into and beer spilled on them?

I guess it could be someone's fetish. There's a fetish for everything.

Limp dickscuit ab pics are not mine.

Perfect Punctuation. Period.

I have exciting news!

Many of you readers may remember me talking about my life with birth control; how I was on this progesterone-only pill that kept me from having a period for over a year. And how when my relationship ended I quickly quit taking the pill, because, fuck hormones, ya know!

But still, it had been months. Like three months and I was starting to freak out. Watching one episode of “I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant,” really didn’t help. Every time I got gas I thought maybe it was a baby growing in there. And I was worried because I drink so much that if there were a baby in there it would come looking super retarded—not to mention the Maury—Who’s Your-Baby-Daddy—like scene that could have ensued directly after pooping it out into a toilet.

(deep breath)

So, needless to say, I am thrilled to announce the arrival of my period!!!!!!!

I have never in my life enjoyed having a period so much.

I don’t even care if this is too much information for all of you.

I feel as if I am getting rid of so much toxic energy.

And right in time for the new year!

I am really looking forward to 2012—new year, new start. It’s going to be a good one.

Many creative plans in the works including a new music project involving sounds of domesticity, painting, Spanish learning, and of course, an extreme amount of writing.

Cheers to the New Year!

*I’d like to quickly note that my blog from the other day may have been a bit much, perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, maybe even yes! a bit dramatic! But I had debated with myself for days about publishing it... my gender studies side of my self said, no, this isn’t ready; my writer side said, sometimes you just have to make sweeping generalities and be solid in your choice. So. I chose the writer side. A part of me feels bad, but another part of me doesn’t. I am not perfect, I do not have an editor telling me what’s good and what’s not. I make mistakes, but I hope that my readers understand this. My writing choices come from a place of wanting to connect, share, expand, learn, grow. I’m going through a rough time and I feel much gratitude for my readers’ support and understanding. And, of course I will elaborate on the gender issues sometime in the near future as I feel they were not quite clear.

From One Ex to The Next (Stay Blocked)!

I couldn't decide whether or not to actually post this, but I am like fuck it, I think this needs to get out into the world... so here goes. Written Dec. 25th):

I did something really stupid today.

But let me backtrack for a moment.

When my ex and I broke up I blocked him on facebook. To which he responded in an email telling me how unnecessary he thought the blockage was and how all like 300+ pictures of us were now untagged.

I responded to that with some message resembling this:

“Boohoo. We’re not together anymore. And I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Fast forward.

I’m on my mom’s computer uploading holiday pictures to her facebook.

(You all know where this is heading right?)

And of course she never de-friended him because “she doesn’t know how to do that sorta thing.”

Why I clicked I do not know.

Since clicking on his page I’ve been trying to unclick the click from my memory but I can’t.

It was the click every ex dreads.

Now, I’m questioning whether I am actually a masochist who clicked knowing it would cause me more pain and suffering. Or, if my subconscious told me to click because I am now strong enough to accept the outcome of his betrayal.

Perhaps it’s a mixture of both.

It was of course, the click that revealed how he is now “in a relationship” (with the woman he cheated one me with).

My initial reaction was “of course.”

Then I got that sinking feeling in my stomach again, like the same feeling I had the week we broke up. I couldn’t eat. And had been doing a damn good job eating the entire time I’d been back home.

This non-eating made me analyze again... Am I not eating because I literally cannot stomach food...or can I not stomach food because subconsciously I don’t feel attractive and think if only I were thinner like them...or even more subconsciously--without food I can just whither away and become invisible like I already feel.

I mean, it hasn’t even been 3 months.

What I realized though, while sitting in the hot tub having a loud conversation with myself over the jets was that there are many men out there who disguise themselves as “feminists” but who are actually walking breathing misogynist asshole leaches.

Socially, women are brought up learning how to be nurturing and thoughtful of other people.

Men are taught that it’s okay to use women’s socially constructed tendencies of taking care of others as a way to get out of doing all the stupid shit that no one really wants to do.

Leaving it for us women.

What I mean here is that many men are perfectly fine with women doing the cleaning, the cooking, all of the planning, scheduling, organizing, bill paying etc. so they can do what they really enjoy.

Whether that’s some business exec who likes playing golf or some artist who likes wanking off on a canvas.

This is not 1952 anymore.

Please, people, let’s stop pretending it’s changed just because it’s masked by the scatters of daddy “daycares” and women CEOs.

(the fact that I have to put “daddy” and “women” in that sentence is a glaring indicator).

Okay. So. Many of you are probably thinking....

“oh girl you just be feeling used cuz you got cheated on by some dude.”

And yeah. I do feel used. And I know I’m not the only person who has gone through this type of relationship before.

You know the type--where you put love and thoughtfulness and energy into maintaining the relationship--even if it costs time and energy that could have went into other more beneficial things like book writing or art making or dinosaur riding, whatever.

What I am saying is that I now will be doing all my cooking, cleaning, organizing, working, creating for myself. And I don’t need anyone to hold my hand through it or anyone helping me get all the “shit” work out of the way... because my life will be more rewarding and fulfilling if I truly know how to Do. It. Myself.

Ain’t no one gonna hold me back.

And I’m gonna keep blocks blocked for a reason, yo.

Music Monday: If You Knew Better You Would Do Better.

I need a little pump up music energy boost this Monday. Oh, the hollordaze really got to me. So much food. So much drink. I need to dance it off. No really, if I don't dance soon I'magonnagocrazy. And when I say, I'm going to go, what I mean is that I'm going to become crazier than I already am.

I could be okay with that.

But I'd rather dance.

No official video for this song.

But.

You should know better.

10 Random Thoughts: Presents, Freedom, and Sexy Sex Oh My!

1) Is anyone creeped out by the Folgers commercial where the sister says to the brother, “you’re my present this year!” And then she looks at him, like he’s her “present.” Gross. I get freaked out every time it’s on. Plus the “African” wrapping paper that’s supposed to be an indication that “he was doing something heroic in some 3^rd world country somewhere where they don’t have good coffee,” –that also weirds me out.

2) How can I become a television script writer? I mean the stuff on their today is so bad, I could definitely write something just as bad if not worse, which is obviously the direction they’re going. I should probably just pretend to be an upper class white dude and then I’d totally be able to write sitcoms and dramedies. Or at least commercial jingles.

3) I wonder who in Long Island invented this “tea”? They should win some inventor’s prize.

4) Usually with online profiles, facebook, linked-in, ok cupid, the pic of yourself is supposed to, I don’t know, be one where you feel you look attractive. Do guys really think they look good in their online pic choices? Some of them look freaking higher than a kite, unshaved, blurry, dirty ass, sweaty, baseball-cap-wearing, lame wieners. (Never gonna get it, just sayin’).

(See how poor the picture quality is? And he's standing in a bathroom without even a real expression on his face. Try again. TRY AGAIN!!!)

5) I was talking to my friend the other day about how the act of shopping is itself the holiday experience. Or so it seems. And maybe that’s why I don’t feel very connected to this holiday. I don’t care to shop at places were things are new. I prefer to shop in dumpsters where things are free. And give the gift of dumpster finds to my friends and family year round instead of feeling the need to put something together at a particular time. It just doesn’t seem as thoughtful or sincere when it’s supposed to happen.

6) Does wrapping presents seem odd to anyone else? I mean, paying money for paper that’s just going to get ripped off and thrown away in less than a minute. I usually wrap with newspapers, but that’s not much better anymore since I never actual read real-life newspapers (yes I aware I write for one) but I read everything online. I guess, gifts need to become “virtual” gifts these days to save paper (and time and money).

7) I’ve noticed that in Kansas people eat a lot of white stuff. White flour, white ranch dressing, white mayonnaise, white potatoes, white cheese, white sugar. I think there’s a theme. Also—some times it’s disguised: chocolate cake, pepsi, French fries etc. but deep down we all know the root is white. No wonder people have weight issues. Not to mention the fact that produce around here is ridiculously expensive.

8) I’d really like to have the courage of a dog. Particularly these little lap dogs. I mean, they really have no consideration for gravity. They’ll just leap off of chairs and couches. They’ll fall back off of chairs and couches, without flinching, they’ll hop right back up, like it wasn’t no big thing. Like falling off furniture is just part of life. Plus the whole, “Oh, you just said no? Well, I’m going to do it any way,” attitude.

I like that.

9) I feel kind of guilty for not getting very thoughtful gifts for anyone this year. Usually I’m on top of that shit and even though I don’t spend a lot of money I at least exert effort. Though I have plenty of excuses I’d prefer to just fess up to the fact that I failed this year and acknowledge that I will try harder next year--(as long as I don’t break up boyfriend and have to move three times in a year. Oh wait. I won’t have a boyfriend, so no worries there.)

10) Many people seem to think I need to have a new boyfriend. I just want you all to know that I don't NEED or WANT that shit right now. Dudes are fun to hang out with, drink with, create weird creations with, but it hasn't even been four months yet. Give me a freaking break. Can't I just be alone? YYYEEESSS!!! And I will. As Salt n Peppa so poetically say, "If I wanna take a guy home with me tonight, it's none of urrrr business..."

Meaning--I'll do what I want.

Word.

And what I want is FFFREEEDDDOOMMMM.

(This is sexy freedom.... I grew out my hair just to take this picture).