Short Stories

I remembered this for some reason this morning: When I was probably 6 or 7 I was down the road from my house, I know I was alone but I don't remember if I had my bike. It was a Sunday afternoon. Our neighbors hadn't picked up their Sunday paper from the end of their driveway but I thought that I had found it so I just picked it up and took it home. I liked to look at the ads and the comics. So I took it home, all proud of what I had found and showed my mom. She was livid and demanded to know where I had gotten the paper from. We didn't return it, though.

For some reason that memory reminds me of falling off the picnic table. Mark (my childhood bff) and I used to put folding lawnchairs on top of the table and just sit there, facing each other. I assume we were talking about stuff, not just staring at each other but who knows. This sort of lawnchair, aluminum and plastic arm rests, and that "fabric" that would fray and rot:

So anyway, I don't know if it was part of the game or not but somehow we'd keep pushing the chairs back towards the edge of the picnic table and one of us would usually fall off, backwards, in the chair, and onto the grass. It was fun.

Which reminds me of another memory. I really need to go through my photos and scan some of them so I can tell more stories, I think there might be a photo of this.

For some reason that is unclear to me now, Diane and Janet took me and Chris (but not Jessica) on a trip to visit my brother Ken in Boston. I was probably like 8 or 9 so Chris would have been 5 or 6 and his sister Jessica would have been 3 or 4. Jessica was left with my mom. I really don't know why she wasn't allowed to come with us... strange. So the afternoon or evening that we left my house (Chris and I in the back of a pickup truck with a mattress for us to sit on for the 8 or so hour drive) Jessica was understandably upset. She jumped on the... what would you call that thing...

I don't know who that kid is, not my photo.

The thing next to the slide, in between the slide and the swings in the above photo... Anyway, Jessica gets on this thing and just starts going, back and forth with all her little might. And she's wailing! Just crying and crying like she would never stop as we pull out of the driveway. Chris and I were laughing in the back of the truck. We were totally evil. Then later, in Massachusetts somewhere, we both bought giant gummy rats and ate them on the trip home.

Hey Boy

"Gender is futile"  -AMH III

So. This has been in my head a lot lately:

I don't know why. It's just there. Probably because I feel like I've been fucking up a lot lately. Like a boy. And I'm emotionally like a boy. My head is like a boy. Without getting into too much detail... let's just say that I'm more a boy. In some situations.

I wrote that last night when I was a little drunk. I realize now that this is not going to make any sense since I don't really relate to this (or any) Beyoncé song. It's not about the song. Though it is true that that song is in my head a lot, it comes up on my iPod a lot. And it is true that I think I behave more like a man in some situations than a woman. I'm talking about stereotypes, obviously.

...

I can't recapture what I was thinking last night.

I can tell you that around 2am, while watching The Lost Boys in bed, I suddenly decided I wanted a pickle. But I wanted more than just a pickle. I wanted a pickle wrapped in ham. So that's what I got. I wrapped a pickle in ham and ate it in bed. While watching The Lost Boys.

So anyway, I've always hated gender stereotypes being applied to me but I'm more than happy to apply them to others. Girls, specifically. Because girls are stupid and mean and constantly judging you and absolutely-under-no-circumstances are they to be trusted. Am I right? Yes, that was a joke. Sort of. I've always hated it when groups break up into boys and girls, I think I hate sex segregation even more than I hate gender stereotypes. I freak the fuck out when I'm left alone with women. All though I'm getting better at dealing with this, I still feel more comfortable around guys.

I think I'm getting worse at writing. I don't really do much of it anymore. I don't really do much of anything anymore except look at porn and pictures of dead bodies on Tumblr. It's gotten to the point where it's almost like I don't even see it anymore, I certainly don't feel anything when I do. Totally desensitized. But what I was saying, about writing:

I pulled the tub that has all my old gurnels up two flights of stairs the other day, after falling on my ass while trying to lift it, because I was looking for copies of this zine I did back in 2000-2001. There were only three issues before I lost interest. Of course. They should make losing interest in things an occupation, I would be sooo good at that. Like, here, be intensely interested in this thing for a couple months and then you can move onto something else. It was called, unsurprisingly, Ghola. And they are terrible! The writing is atrocious. Worse than this blog, if you can believe that. The sad thing is that it's that way on purpose. I write like an idiot on purpose. Because I think it's cool.      

All right, I should get to work. If you read all of this guess what? I think you're cool.

Dear Mama

Annie Ruth Doyle Gray, June 5, 1935 - January 12, 2012.

My mother died yesterday, Thursday, January 12th. She was relatively young, 76, she would have been 77 in June. This is almost 2 years exactly from the time my father died. A little over 3 years since I'd last seen her.

The story of her last day is a cute one. My mother had Alzheimer's, had had it for a number of years and had also spent the last, I don't know, 4+ years in a nursing facility on a floor specifically for patients with the disease. My sister said she had a regular morning, woke up, was given/fed breakfast - she was on a special puréed diet - and told the woman who was feeding her that the oatmeal was terrible and that she should learn to cook. Later that morning, she went to take a nap and when the nursing staff went to wake her for lunch, she was gone. Janet, who saw her body, said she looked peaceful.

I don't know what she's going to look like, her body, I mean. Janet says she'd lost a lot of weight. She was always short, maybe 5'2" at the tallest, and when I saw her 3 years ago she seemed even tinier. So tiny. She was practically cute. Much different than the formidable woman in my memory who would slap me across the face when I said something she didn't like.

A couple photos from the last time I saw her, December 2009, I think.

And I don't feel like mourning, I don't feel especially sad, because I've already done it, to be honest. I did it 3 years ago after I saw her, when I realized, sitting next to her, that she wasn't there any more. It was strange, she still knew me, knew who I was, she would turn and look at me every once in a while and smile, but she was also very child-like. I knew that the person who had been my mother was gone, and so, not long after that visit, I let her go. And I have not regretted that decision to let her go when I did, even knowing she was still alive.

She was a tough lady, but a sad one, an angry one, and she had every right to be. She had been hurt often by men in her life, passing from her father's violence into the hands of her husband's when she was still a girl. She was tough and would put up a fight, but still, she wasn't strong. She should've gotten out of there but I realize how hard that would have been in the 1950s with small children to take care of. So she did the best she could, I think. Which is why I always forgave her no matter how much I thought I hated her or how often I thought she was weak for staying. I wish she could have experienced more happiness in her life, done more of the things she wanted to do, but it's been too late to think about that for years now.

Annie and cat, probably mid-1940s.

Annie, late 1940s or early 50s?

Annie, early 1950s?

I'm probably 2 or 3 here, 1979-80, Tony's Road.

Must have been 1984-ish or early 1985, Tony's Road.

Kitchen, Tony's Road, probably 1985-86. I love the look she's giving me.

Hideous Easter outfit, 1990 or 91, probably, Janet's on Blue Ball Road.

 

So nervous! Before the wedding, September 2002, Philadelphia

There's so much more to her story that I could relate and I only knew her for less than half of it, I'm sure there were more secrets than the ones that I knew, secrets that have died with her. Secrets that are probably best left unknown.

I love you, mommy. I really do.

NYE 2011/2012

Days later I finally get around to this. Here is what I played (or intended to play) on New Year's Eve. It was haphazardly put together at the last minute with one major outside influence (Allen, looking at you). Not my best work but it went over okay. The links are to Mediafire if you feel inclined to download.

Part 1 (played second and not in its entirety)

1. My standard "Jenifa" opening courtesy of De la Soul
2. "American Trash" (Porter Robinson Remix) - Innerpartysystem
3. "Call Your Girlfriend" - Robyn
4. "We No Speak Americano" (Original Mix) - Yolanda Be Cool & DCUP
5. "Hard in da Paint" - Waka Flocka Flame
6. "Fok Julle Naaiers" - Die Antwoord
7. "Alors on Dance" (PULS Remix) - Stromae
8. "She's My Man" - Scissor Sisters
9. "Turn Me On" (feat. Nicki Minaj) - David Guetta
10. "Till I Get There" - Lupe Fiasco
11. "Drunk on Love" - Rihanna
12. "Endless Slut" - Midnight*
13. "Get Some" - Lykke Li
14. "Make Me Proud" (feat. Nicki Minaj) - Drake
15. "Super Bass" - Nicki Minaj
16. "Internet Friends" (Original Mix) - Knife Party
17. "E.T." (feat. Kanye West) - Katy Perry
18. "Enter Sandman" - Herve vs. Metallica
19. "Fixin' to Thrill" - Dragonette
20. "Fight Club is Closed" (Original Mix) - Dada Life
21. "Hold it Against Me" (Jump Smokers Extended Mix) - Britney Spears
22. "Pumped Up Kicks" - Foster the People
23. "We Found Love" - Rihanna
24. "The Motto" (feat. Lil Wayne) - Drake
25. "Party Rock Anthem" - LMFAO
26. My standard "Jenifa" closing (same as the opening) 

Part 2 (played first and in its entirety)

1. My standard "Jenifa" opening courtesy of De la Soul
2. "Shame on a Nigga" - Wu-Tang Clan
3. "None of Your Business" - Salt N Pepa
4. "Teenage Dirtbag" - Wheatus
5. "Alex Chilton" - The Replacements
6. "Cherry Bomb" - The Runaways
7. "Roots Radicals" - Rancid
8. "Mathilde" - Scott Walker
9. "The Bad Touch" - Bloodhound Gang
10. "Let Me Clear My Throat" - DJ Kool
11. "Rock DJ" - Robbie Williams**
12. "Suspicious Minds" - Elvis Presley
13. "American Girl" - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
14. "New Radio" - Bikini Kill
15. "Hoodie" - Lady Sovereign
16. "Gimme Some Lovin'" - The Spencer Davis Group
17. "Vodka" - Korpiklaani
18. "Intergalactic" - Beastie Boys
19. "25 or 6 to 4" - Chicago
20. "Cut Your Hair" - Pavement
21. "Big Poppa" - Notorious B.I.G.
22. "More Than a Feeling" - Boston
23. "Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers" - ZZ Top*
24. "Living After Midnight" - Judas Priest*
25. "Rip This Hell" - Midnight*
26. "Raining Blood" - Slayer*
27. "Breaking the Law" - Judas Priest*
28. "Halloween" - Misfits
29. My standard "Jenifa" closing (same as the opening) 

* Allen's additions
** Weirdest request ever from someone I don't know on Facebook

New Year?

Why? The existential "why?" Why does there have to be another year?

I'm sure I won't want you to read this tomorrow.

I'm not sure what I want to say. As usual. I'm letting this... thing... wash over me right now. And it's always the little things that trigger it.

And I always feel stress. When I know, when I step back and look at my life... when I know everything's okay. But I'm permanently clenching my jaw, waiting for whatever it is to happen. KNOWING it's going to happen. But not knowing what it is. This heightened sense of awareness. Like permanently waiting for your drunk father to come home and never knowing what's going to happen when he does...

I hope this isn't too personal but the concept of feeling "safe" and feeling like you have a place to call home came up tonight and I can be very sarcastic about these things, but really, isn't that all any of us really want?  Safety, security? A place where we can be ourselves? So what is this insecurity that we all feel? Assuming that everyone hates us because they're also avoiding feelings that make them uncomfortable.

Unless we're really that annoying?

I can't tell.

And the thing I'm thinking about, while two of us are watching this together right now, is that maybe we don't change that much. Maybe all of us who wanted to kill ourselves when we're 16... and 17, 18, etc., the thoughts seem to be more sporadic as you grow older... will always still feel that, even though they do tend to become more sporadic. They still creep in every once and a while.

And I think what makes it worse are those sporadic relationships I tend to have where I *think* I've found someone who could matter to me... Yet no matter what, I end up feeling like the weirdo and things just fizzle out.

Which reinforces the feelings that I am wrong and bad and just not right in some way.

And talking doesn't do a damn thing. Maybe in the short term but in the long term, no. I don't think it works for me.

Because it's never enough. It doesn't change me fundamentally, which is, I guess, what I need to have happen. Yet some days it's okay. When I can just realize I'm an asshole and be okay with that. But some days it's not enough and the abandonment issues kick in. Or maybe it's just selfishness...

I don't know.

Fok Julle Naaiers

Monday: I feel like I need to write but I don't know what about. This is how I start. If I start from "I don't know" I can usually find a destination. I'm tired. I'm always tired. I will sleep 14 hours in a row if given the opportunity. And still be tired. It's my rock-n-roll lifestyle. Guh.

There's a tree in my living room. A god damn christmas tree. If I weren't so lazy I'd show you a picture of it. It's white. Sunday. I made a pot roast. POT ROAST. Goat cheese & sage mashed potatoes. And polenta. Allen made cookies.

I think we're going Kindle for xmas. Why not? Maybe it's the tv commercials that are pushing us that direction. Whatever, white people.

I've got stuff to think about. A lot of stuff. I tend not to think about anything and that could be dangerous for my future health. I already have a bad memory. Alzheimer's, here I come! The problem is, the stuff I need to think about isn't stuff I can write about here. It's "personal", it's "private". But it's the usual stuff: life, love, friendship.

I spend a shitastic amount of time on Tumblr these days, dodging the porn tumblrs I follow (ack! giant cock! ack! women showing off their assholes!), looking for images that inspire me. Maybe it's helping me develop... something. Interest in things? An artistic vision? No. It's mostly reminding me of what it felt like to be a teenager. But they are strangely fond feelings. Maybe because it was the last time I had my own personality. Or something.

I do love being overly dramatic.

Tuesday: Still tired. Twitter's giving me the whale and I've got something VERY IMPORTANT TO SAY!

Ok. I seem to have drowned myself in some gross Michael Kors parfum this morning. Free samps - you never know what you'll get.

This song is taking over my life! And the funny thing is, I find it kind of offensive (really, dropping "faggot" and repeating "I'll fuck you til you love me?" C'mon!) but I can't stop listening to it!


FOK JULLE NAAIERS from Die Antwoord on Vimeo.

Ohmygod! I was just making coffee in el jefe's office and nearly broke all the cups! That would have seriously made me feel like an asshole! Nothing broke. I may have chipped one of the cups, though. Shhh! Don't tell!

Folks are already posting their top 10 songs of 2011 on this blog. It was started at the end of last year by Justin so some sweet dudes could share some sweet music. I'm not even sure I've listened to anything new this year. I've totally fallen off when it comes to music. I think the "old" is setting in! Except for that monstrous song above... Naw, I've got something, enough to come up with 10 songs, anyway, but I think it may be a lot different than last year's mix. 

I've got some tumblring to catch up on!

It's After 2am on Monday, er, Tuesday

Thank god it's a holiday week, huh? Praise him with great praise. I tried to sleep but I was too cold and couldn't concentrate enough to fall asleep.

Ed (aka "El Jefe") has a one way ticket to Dallas tomorrow and Beth said she "might" be in late afternoon so I's gots nothin' to worry about workwise. Other than waking up in the morning.

I'm f'in tired but I just can't sleep. There's a lot going wrong right now. Things were going ok, even heading in the "right" direction a little while ago but now I'm slippin' slippin' into the same old patterns. Drinking too much. Smoking way too much. Getting fat again. I'm really starting to hate the holidays.

I feel like the happy pills aren't working as well as they were when I first started taking them. That's bumming me out. Really, I can't be expected to talk about things! Dear god.

Ok, that's twice that I've mentioned the big man and I don't mean Clarence Clemons. RIP.

I'm losing it.

OK. I admit it. I've been thinking about my dead father a lot recently and wondering about how I'm going to deal with my mother dying. It's a holiday thing. I always get like this at this time of year. Death. Yeah, I feel guilty about not seeing my mother but I don't know what the point is. I saw her, what?, 2 or was it 3 years ago? and she was so childlike and strange. She was like a "patient" and not like "my mother"... She's not there any more.

And I'm scared to death that I'll end up like her. Though I expect I'll be more like my father. Even though I know I'm a curious blend of the two. A creature made up of the weakest parts of both of them: a senile drunk.

It's that kind of cold, that wet cold, that gets deep into your bones. Because it's 44° (aka 7°) which isn't that cold, but it's that kind of cold.

And it's all about the holidays that I'm feeling blue. It's every year. Thanksgiving used to be my favourite holiday, now I can barely stand the thought of that 5-6 hour drive across the state, into Maryland and Delaware, where the "family" is. The family that isn't what it used to be. I look forward to seeing people in Philly, my real family, whether they know it or not, not the blood relatives or in-laws.

She was... and it's always her, never him, though he was always the "elephant in the room" so to speak... she was so... she persevered. She did what she thought was best. But what she thought was best was always way off the mark. Sadly, I think I respect my father more. I think I understood him more. And I talk about her as if she were already gone. But she is. She's this tiny creature with strangely beady eyes, like an animal. I think she always was. Always living like an animal... How can I say that? Because I observed it.

And my brother, saying "she stayed with him"?!?! Does he even have any idea? Yes, she did stay. But what she went through...

What she put us through...

She didn't know any better.

That's what hurts. SHE DIDN'T KNOW BETTER.

Yet she deserved better.

Always with the Tumblr!

I'm spending the morning following and reblogging 20 year-olds on Tumblr. Love it. I wish Tumblr had been around when I was 13 - 22. I guess it's fine since I still feel/act like I'm somewhere in that age category. Can you say emotionally stunted?

I still need to finish watching Paranormal Activity part deuce which I started watching yesterday but unfortunately I have to go out to lunch with my co-workers because one of them is having a 60th birthday. I can barely contain my joy. Two to three hours of hell awaits! (I love everyone.)

There's a baby in this one.

And it's not like I was asked if I wanted to go to this lunch, it was just like, "this is what we're doing" and how the hell do you get out of that? And of course I wouldn't do it if given a choice. Oh, and here's my favorite sentence from a review of the place we'll be eating at shortly: "The interior is as uninspired as the decor: imagine gynecological office with doilies." Yay! And clearly a man wrote that, "gynecological office"?

Ugh. Getting back into this is harder than I thought it would be... I made beef stew Sunday. With actual beef in it, first time ever. Needs more salt.

Ohmahgod. Students in teh hallway are talking about having an ugly sweater holiday party. What has the world come to? When that is an actual thing now that people actually do? Fie.

I am going through something rough, which I hinted at in the last post, which is kinda shutting me down and sending me into some weird survival, fight-or-flight, head space. Never get out of the boat, that's all I'm saying. Allen wants me to talk about it but I can't, I'm too distraught and ashamed. "You've been acting like this for days," he said last night. Oh, well. I've just got a lot on my mind. And the cramps aren't helping.

I should get back to tumblring...

Oh, Little Girl, Pick Up the Pieces...

You learn to live without...

I have only just begun to drink so this is going to get much more pathetic as the night goes on. This song is destroying me right now:

I always think, "this time it will be different". It's never different and it always hurts. I wouldn't let myself cry yesterday but things are different tonight. I didn't think there would be much to mourn considering the circumstances but that's exactly what I'm doing. I've reached the second stage of grief. Anger. Actually, I went there first because there's never any reason to deny what's happening when it happens and I'm always so quick to walk away. And it's not like anyone ever regrets that I do.

This wasn't supposed to be a pity party but I think that's what I need right now. He said, "don't take it all on yourself," but how can I not? I know how I am. But he's right and you can't control what other people think about you. You do your best and that's all you can do. So no matter how much you want something maybe the other person doesn't want it as much. And no one's to blame for that.

Thanksgiving

I'm in a fucking snit about Thanksgiving. I'm completely uninterested in participating because participating means cringing at very questionable beliefs about various races and sexual identities while all the time keeping my mouth shut and trying not to laugh outloud about my relatives love of the sweet baby Jesus. And last year, at my brother's house, Allen overheard something that at the time I blew off but which has since been really bothering me. It doesn't matter what it was, it was just completely outrageous.

And that's just my family. Without going into too much detail this is Allen's: Tension, Television, Abusive outbursts, Multiple poorly-trained large dogs, Depression. But things are probably different now since "Hoppy" had his stroke. But different how? It's the fear of the unknown that makes me want to cry at the very thought of going there.

I want to see Kenny and Chris so hopefully that will happen. Which reminds me, I need to see if we can get a room at the lovely Best Western across the street from the College. That was the best part of the trip last time, apart from going to Perkins in Newark for breakfast and seeing friends in Philly.

It's just a depressing fucking holiday. Almost as bad as Xmas. :-)

Jeez, I totally hit the Publish button when I meant to hit Preview.

Doesn't matter. But I had something else to say but I forgot what it was...

Oh. I'm going to get fucking whiskey drunk tonight. Cos I've had a rough week. :-( We'll see how that goes.

Check this out: http://www.well.com/~art/suicidenotes.html It's a pretty cool page of delicious suicide notes.