i dreamt of a fever, one that cure me of this cold winter set heart

"Can we listen to some music?" Rori asked me as we were getting ready on sunday afternoon. I walked over to the computer.

"Not Britney Spears," she added.

Dammit.

I may or may not be listening to her new CD a lot. And say what you will about her (I think she needs professional help, i feel sad a little bit/a lot when I think about how sick she really is--in the head and whatnot), but that new CD of hers in fantastic. I love it, start to finish.

And I've got to tell you, I was surprised as hell that I like it so much. I've never liked any of her other CD's all the way through before.



So, Heath Ledger died last week. I mean, WTF? Who saw that one coming? Not me. I'm not gonna say a lot about it cause I feel like everyone and their mother has addressed the topic since the news first broke less than an hour after it happened. I know because I've read all of it.

But you know, it just really, really sucks. Very sad.

The silver lining is that he was able to complete this before his untimely passing:



I am wicked excited to see what will be his last completed performance.





So, I haven't written in at least a week and it is by no means attributed to inactivity, except sort of. Basically.

They have this show on A & E called "Intervention". I love this show. And I loved it a whole lot more before I sort of had one of my own. Apparently I have a bit of a problem with being reckless, drinking/partying too much, I'm not on quite the right track with school and a bevy of other things. The only thing I've been really good about lately, is keeping it in my pants, proverbially speaking of course. But I've failed at just about everything else.

So, I'm going through a lot of changes right now, feeling very foggy, restless, sleepless, that sort of thing. It'll pass for sure. And it's all entirely my fault, so don't think I'm seeking out any sort of compassion or pity. I'm just trying to explain my absence and explain any changes you might notice taking place.

I guess it's time to grow up a bit. Not too much, but a healthy amount is in order I think. There will be a little less of this:




And a lot more of this:




You really should check out the show Intervention. It's awesome. My favorite one was this girl who had this addiction to speedballing. She was in really deep and her dad kept fueling. AND she had an eating disorder just like her mother who was convinced that she did not have an eating disorder, even though she totally did.

It was a really good episode. That show really shakes you up, gives you a reality check. And there's an extra special kind of reality check when you are the subject of one. Thank god it wasn't on TV. That would've sucked balls. For real.

Here's another kind of Intervention. Arcade Fire, to be specific:



Now that I've gotten all of that other obligatory exposition out of the way I would like to move on to bigger and better/happier things.

1. There is a band. Will post pics/updates later. But beautiful music is being made and might find its way to your ears sometime in the near future.

2. This weather is ridiculous.




We've gotten a really decent amount of snow this winter, and not counting today, we've had pretty steady temps. I kind of feel like a meteorologist right now. But srsly, we all like our winters to be like this:



And they end up being a little more like this:



I have lived in Michigan my whole life (sad but true) and I feel like half of the population still has no idea what they're doing behind the wheel of a vehicle. I mean, essentially, a car is a killing machine. You sort of barrel on down the road going pretty effing fast (if you're anything like me), and really, you could kill yourself and/or someone else if something unexpected like a torrential downpour or something.

I feel like people panic, especially with heavy rain or any amount of snow. They slam on the brakes like morons and cause accidents, spilled beverages, further panic and a deeper seeded hatred of driving under these conditions.

One morning before I braved the treachery that was my drive to work, I paid a bum $5 to shovel me out of my spot. My car was blocked in by a shit ton of snow. There were at least 4 feet of snow completely encasing my vehicle. I walked out there with my hot chocolate and grilled cheese (breakfast of champions, ps) in hand and my jaw dropped. I was all, "what the hell? how the fuck am i gonna get out of there."

Lo and behold, this bum comes jogging up from further down the street wearing a smorgishbord of clothes (members only jacket, knit (?) vest, hoodie, snow pants (?), jeans, sweatpants, sneakers, a knit cap and mismatched gloves). He looked like he just walked off stage as a member of the chorus from RENT. "Christmas bells are ring-ing, Christmas bells are ring-ing. how time flies."

Anyway, he shoveled me out and offered to brush my car off for an extra dollar even though I was halfway done already.

I still got to work late, but it was all good.

3. The L Word is trucking along and rocking my world. And I think I can really relate to Bette right now. Not me right now, but me a while ago. No time specification necessary. Suffice as to say, I get her. Also, she is smoking hot. You know who else is? Helena? Where is she? Probs with Papi.

4. I lost heat in my apt. the weekend before last and wanted to kill father time and mother earth and whoever thought it would be a great idea to still heat things with a boiler. Damn it was cold in my apt. Not quite as cold as it was when the heat went out last winter and Eric and I thought that maybe it was a sign of the apocalypse or something. We sat huddled around our space heaters and watched the time drag on.

This time wasn't so bad. Still really fucking cold, but it only lasted a couple of days and I am pleased to report that my apt. is back to sweltering heat. Chelsea has described it as "hot as balls" on countless occasions and I'd have to agree.

But you know, I don't mind the heat. First of all, I am half Mexican and so I think probs my genetics dictate me requiring copious amounts of heat and also, it is really fucking cold outside. I'd rather be really hot than freezing my ass off. And I think most people would agree. Maybe even Chelsea.

5. My iPod died.



I don't know why I put this in with other stuff that is supposed to be not shitty. But whatevs. My iPod broke and I am devastated. I stared at it forever and felt like I might cry, but I didn't.

Life post iPod is very different from life pre-iPod. And I swear to you I was so grateful during the iPod years (circa 2003-2008). They were great years. I had a couple iPods and loved them unconditionally and in their own special ways. My newest one died of what I believe to be anything other than natural causes, unless you count carelessness as "natural".

My phone must've cracked the screen on accident when it was hanging out in my pocket waiting to rock my world. Now the screen looks like it's fading away from a terminal illness. Poor Oscar. Such a wonderful little iPod. Was totally my favorite thing I owned.

It's weird that I'm speaking in the past tense as if I buried the damn thing in the alley. But the truth is, I'm still carrying it around in my bag like it might come back top life when I least expect it, by way of an iPod fairy or the miracle of prayer or a shooting star. Something, dammit. Something.

These are difficult times, the days we are living in. First the war, the economy, and now this. I am simply beside myself.

I've resorted to carrying around a discman. Until this very moment, I cannot recall the last time I even thought about a "discman", let alone wrote about it. I carry around a case full of CDS i feel like I can't live without right now. It contains the following:

Radiohead
As Tall As Lions
AC/DC
Led Zeppelin
Fiona Apple
The Shins
The Marie Antoinette soundtrack
Colplay
Fall Out Boy
Kelly Clarkson
a few assorted mixes
Lovedrug
Motion City Soundtrack
Elliott Smith

and a couple others I can't remember right now, but seemed really important this morning when I put them in my bag. And you can say what you will about my musical selection. I will defend them all until the death. So whatevs. I forgot about Britney Spears! I totally have her new CD in there too. I've been listening to that a lot. I think I mentioned that before.

6. Most everything else is the same. I don't wanna jinx anything, but you know, things are ok. I think I've finally figured out how the whole relationship thing, or at least, I think I've figured out how to make it work for me personally. Things are good.

My heart and my head are in a good place.

holy fucking shit, no one cares

I don't think I am ever going to get to a point in my life where I will understand why strangers feel the need to vent their problems to other strangers knowing full well that they're just wasting the other person's time. I know that might seem ridiculous coming from someone who keeps a blog, but I would like to think that it's a little bit different. Case in point:

I work at a law firm. I believe I have mentioned this on at least one occasion. As a whole, the job is average. It's a lot like most other jobs; some days you have a really good time and other days you want to throw yourself in front of a speeding bus. Today feels a lot like the latter.

Part of my job involves answering the phones when they ring. I work the late shift, so after 6-ish pm, all of our other offices forward their phones and I intercept all of their calls. Now, you might ask yourself why someone would call a law firm after 5pm. I'm not sure. The best I can reason is that maybe people are hoping to get the voicemail and then a call back the following day. But who knows? I am convinced that a large percentage of middle aged and elderly middle Americans love to hear the sound of their own voice.




I just got off the phone with a woman calling for the Illinois office. I gave her my little speech, "their phones are forwarded, blah blah blah, if you want I can email him the message blah blah blah."

She responded very slowly, "Oh....so they don't have voicemail?"

"No."

"Really? Well that's strange. So, no voicemail then?"

"That's correct."

"Well you see, I have a very bad head cold and I'm calling in regards to a settlement offer. Will you please tell him [coughs, but very forced and hallow sounding] Excuse me. I have a terrible head cold. If the settlement offer doesn't at least meet what I have requested then I am not interested."

"Ok. I'll give him that message. Thanks."

"I mean, why should I be expected to take $1,000 when the repairs alone will cost me double. And, you know, with this head cold, I'm very distressed. That's just not right, you know? It should be at least $1,000. Don't you think so?"

[silence] and then, "um...i don't really know. But i'll pass that message along."

"Ok. Good. Thank you. Like I said before, I have a terrible head cold and I might not even be accepting telephone calls tomorrow. I mean, it just goes right through my head. You know?"

[head explodes]




"Anyway, thank you for your time."

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Why??? Why does anyone think that people care anymore? I know I don't and I don't expect anyone else to care, except maybe close friends and people related to me by blood.

I consider myself a pretty liberal person, but somewhere along the way, the PC-ing of America has led everyone to believe that they are special. And I mean, I'm sure you're special to someone, but you're not special to me. You're wasting my time and yours because I'm just gonna scream after I slam the phone down. I don't want to hear about your head cold. I don't care. Just give me the message and I will relay it, but I am not going to empathise with you because I don't make enough to give a shit about hundreds of random strangers everyday.

Just now, I tried to do the math in my head, and I talk to at least 100 people everyday and most of them I talk to for the very first time. How can anyone expect me to care? That's just ridiculous. I'm not the pope. I'm not running for president and I am certainly not running for Jesus. So, please, random people who call anyone, encounter anyone in the service industry:

STOP UNLOADING YOUR STUPID FUCKING PROBLEMS ON STRANGERS. IT'S RUDE AND REALLY ANNOYING. SAVE IT FOR YOUR PRIEST/THERAPIST/HOOKER. STOP KIDDING YOURSELVES. MOST PEOPLE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING PAST THEIR OWN NOSES. THE SOONER YOU GET USED TO IT, THE BETTER.

[exhale] Wow. I'm glad I got that off my chest. Please, feel free to comment/vent your similar experiences. Let it out. This time, someone does care. Until I post again, and then all bets are off. Aaaaannndd.....go.

we've got eyes that leave us in places we don't see.

My eyeballs hurt.

I cannot find my glasses anywhere and it's driving me nuts because I can't read without practically touching my eyeballs to the words. I have a wicked headache and I wish to god, or allah, or whomever, that I would not have misplaced them last night/this morning.

Don't ask me why I'm writing right now. It just felt right, I think. My bosses have been dicks today.

Have you ever worked at a law firm? Yeah. Don't. ">Lawyers are assholes. Every single one I have ever encountered in my life possesses a bottomless well of asshole potential. Some of the attorneys here are all potential assholes. But the partners, they are all kinetic about that shit. They've made people cry before.

Me, I refuse to let my superiors make me cry. I've come close before with crazy customers when I used to work in retail. But I have never given anyone the satisfaction of witnessing me shed a tear at work. No ma'am. I refuse.

But today, they really tested my patience. The partners here and most of the people that have called in today have been royal assholes. I know that today is friday, but it def feels like a monday. So, you know, TGIF everybody! and what-have-you.

Also, I think Phil Collins is one of the worst things that ever happened to music, except maybe Michael Bolton, who I also loathe. I don't care if Phil Collins does appear on Chelsea's iPod, that man's voice makes me wanna punch babies.




Phil Collins: I don't like your music. Also, radio stations: please try and keep it to one Phil Collins song a day. It would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Can we talk about Facebook for a hot second?

Where, sweet Jesus, did all of those fucking applications come from. Right now, as I'm typing this, I have 20+ application "requests" on my account. I have saved them all so I could keep track of how ridiculous they are and also to discuss them here.

There are as follows:

Which swear word are you?
Slayer
Hot or Not
Friend for Sale (4 of these)
One Track (i have no fucking clue what this one even means)
PetrolHead (wtf? srsly.)
Hotness
Human Pets
Oregon Trail (4 of these too! Do i look like my cousin James 12 years ago?)
Rockstar Cars
Bumper Sticker
Secret Admirer
My Heroes Ability
Snowball Fight!
Speed Racer
What Blood Type Are You? (i have this info on my donor card, which i have misplaced)
Make A Baby

Seriously. Facebook applications creators? W? T? F? Why have you created 8,000 of applications so my friends and sort of friends can send me invites ad nauseum? Totally unnecessary and ridiculous. I don't understand any of it.

I can say without shame that I use a few applications. I all kinds of love Growing Gifts and Naughty Gifts were fun for like, a couple weeks. But, do I want to be a zombie or a pirate or a werewolf? No. Guys, the answer is no. I want to email my friends and tag the shit out of them in photos and that's about it.

Facebook used to be my favorite thing ever and now it's just really pissing me off. It almost makes me as crazy as myspace sometimes does. I mean, I feel crazy when I think to myself, "maybe I'll check myspace first cause if I read one more application request my head might explode."

That's bad, guys. Facebook used to be the place to go when you wanted to get a nice list of specific interests, common friends and photo albums. Now it is almost my least favorite thing ever. I used to love leaving my friends little notes and jokes and sarcastic remarks on their "walls". But those days are long gone. I just can't bare to wade through 30 applications, scrolling what feels like an eternity to get to an "advanced wall" (WTF is that about, ps) and STILL not make it to their goddamn wall! It's just fucking stupid. And I hate it. I hate the applications. I think I'm going to get rid of all of the ones that I have.

Yep. I said it. Goodbye applications.

Sorry. I just had to get that Facebook shit off my chest. You know what I'm really loving right now? Sara Bareilles. Her CD is really good. I've been listening to it a lot this entire week. If you haven't, check it out.




There's an official video for the song and it's weird and retarded and really kind of lame. But then there's this other video that's of her and her guitarist playing it live in a little studio or something. That one is way better.

Also. I was on OurChart.com, because it's ours and what have you. I came upon a video of the premiere. It's pretty typical with the red carpet and whatever. But, if you make it to the end of the video you will come upon a sight that made me LOL like whoa. Kate Moennig is sitting in a booth with her arm on the back sitting next to, none other than Paris fucking Hilton. (????) I was all, "whaaaaa?" Clearly, she was looking very Shane that day, I mean night.

Yeah. I don't know how I feel about it, as if it even matters. But, you know, discuss is amongst yourselves. And watch it here.

I'll leave you with this:

Lush. [my "L" word]

Last sunday night was the L word premiere.

Let me tell you how long I've been waiting to say that. Like most of my friends, I already saw the TV-14 version of the episode last weekend on OurChart. And let me just say that I la-la-loved it. Sweet Jesus. Well done, guys. And by guys, I mean Angela Robinson because she is the greatest thing that has ever happened to that show. Everytime I see her name in the opening credits my heart skips a beat. I am madly in love with everything she's done for that show.




Here's to you, [Ms.] Robinson! You are awesome.

Unfortunately I don't have any pictures from the viewing, when we were at 9 in Ferndale, which, ps, was a blast.

But we DID get some photos at Soho. Here's the gang from the night.




We had so much fun. The night became so much more than The L Word, mostly because we drank so much alcohol...




Oh man that night was fun. Ask anyone who was there. It was packed, but not stupid packed like last year. Last year made me wanna punch babies; it was so crowded and loud I thought I might scream. But then, no one would've heard me and so, it would've been a waste of time.

But this year! This year, there were tons of lesbians and they were all classy, using their inside voices and what not during the screening except for whenever Helena or Tasha would enter the frame. Then, they would go ape shit and scream and holla! for how incredibly hot they are.







See what I mean? For the most part though, the ladies were quiet. We sipped the first of countless drinks the first few hours while we were at 9.

And then... we went to Soho.




Chelsea did karaoke and I helped by interrupting midway through the song to make her pose for a picture. I'm a really supportive friend. Also, I only kind of remember that picture being taken.

The night felt really super long. You know how when you were in high school and you would smoke pot with your friends and then wander around, first to the movie theatre. The journey across the parking lot would take so long that your high would set in all the way, preventing you from ever actually buying a ticket and sitting in a theatre because you were too busy trying to stand still and be part of a conversation at the same time in the lobby. Then you decided Wendy's would be a good idea since you were sooooo hungry. You crossed the endless parking lot, got into the car, drove to Wendy's, ordered your food, waited what felt like 5 hours for the food to make it onto your tray and then ate it. Then, you got back into the car and drove to Baskin Robbins cause you wanted something sweet, paused to tie your shoe for what felt like another 5 hours because you could not for the life of you find one of the laces. Got the ice cream and got back into the car, only to realize that roughly 45 minutes had passed since you arrived at the movie theatre.

Yeah, It was kind of like that.

For instance, when I saw this picture the next day:


I was really confused. I could've sworn that I was with Chelsea when she bought those cigarettes because they're a different kind and I remembered her being really impressed when the clerk gave them to her. She asked for Cherry's and he said, "Have you tried these?"

And she made this face:


and then bought the fancy new cloves. But I could not for the life of me, remember when that happened. And then I was like, oh yeah, that was the same night.

Very long night.

At some point the following things happened and were then documented in photographs:

I thought it would be cool for Rori to sit on two chairs at the same time.



I danced with Vince. A lot.:



Celia and Chelsea "danced":



I danced like a spaz with Chelsea and a couple of pool sticks to Kelly Clarkson:



Made Chelsea hug me a million times. This is her account:

"Dude, I knew you were fuckin wasted when you kept going 'bring it in. c'mon, bring it in for the real thing.' and then you'd hug me. [laughs] You made me hug you like ten million times. Dude, you were shitty, shitty drunk."

My response: "Good times."



I honestly cannot remember a good portion of the night. If I had to make a rough estimate, I would say that I cannot remember any solid/vague details from the last 2-3 hours of the night. And that might even be a conservative guess. Again, I have no idea. I just kind of tried to guess by the photographs and what everyone else said.

At some point, we left the bar and I was partially, if not entirely responsible for the following:










I had a thing for the street lamps:





And a thing for pretending to pee on things:





We took such a long time "finding the car" that Chelsea and I stopped for a cigarette break.





I'm pretty sure that Rori wanted to light me on fire. I kept harassing her into taking picture after picture. But really, can you blame me? There are some pretty good ones in there.




After we went back to my apt. I thought it wouldbe a great idea to wake up JP who was sound asleep. But really, it's just because I love JP so much and I wanted to say 'hello'. Apparantly, I woke her up by dancing around in the spare room all by myself, no music, no lights. Just me dancing, and her waking to what must have been the most ridiculous sight ever. Why? Why was I dancing? I have no effing clue. But it probs seemed like a great idea at the time.

Once she opened her eyes I got really close to her and started to apologize, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"Um...yeah creeper. You did."

"Sorry. I am sooooo drunk."

"I can see that."

I love JP. :D




Rori says I passed out with a plate of pasta on my bed/self. And you know what? I totally believe her because I woke up the next morning and I was all, "huh? what? is it daytime? do i really have to be to work in 2 hours?"

I didn't get sick, but I did have a massive headache. But it was completely worth it. I am so glad that the L word sundays are back in my life.

this scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin

My head has been spinning this past week. Just spinning and spinning in a fog that may or may not leave in the forseeable future. I'm trying to sort through a number of things, but really just one thing. It's just that, that one thing opens a proverbial flood gate and then I'm spinning/drowning again.

So, here's the thing...

No. Wait. Let me back up.



When I was a freshman in high school, my mother bought the first computer we ever owned. It was one of those very colorful macs that came out while we were partying like it was 1999. Probs cause it was 1999. The mac was purple, like candy. We got AOL. Do you remember AOL? I do. Anytime I hear of someone still having AOL I think to myself, why? Why would you still want AOL?




Anyway, my mom instructed us on the dangers of the interent. There are creep ass grown men who will use this magical thing called the interweb to pretend to be young girls/boys to lure us like the witch did with candy. Except, they'll use acronyms instead of candy. But the computers all look like candy because this is America. So, you know, whatevs. Hello New Millenium! That's what we were told.

The internet really did kind of scare the shit out of me then. So my mother's plan worked. I def did not give out personal information. In fact, I lied a lot. Told people in chat rooms (remember those?) I was older/younger all of the time. I don't think i was ever honest. Ever. It was easy. Through the magic of the interweb, some wires and floating molecules, like in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I could be whoever I wanted to be and no one would know the difference.





About a year ago I met a friend through a friend. We'll call him Adam. Cause God picked that first and what have you. It's a good name. So, I met Adam through a friend I had already known for years. We will call friend "B" Cain. Cause that's what Adam named the son he had that did a very bad thing and set a whole mess of shit into motion. He was the shifty son, if you will.




(Has anyone noticed how much I've mentioned the B-I-B-L-E in the last paragraph? Who's proud that I retained all that and that the computer did not light on fire when I wrote it? Yep.)

So I met Adam, sort of. Followed his band and Cain to LA, proverbially of course. I followed on my end of the telephone and the interweb sitting in my two bedroom Detroit apt. typetypetyping "love the new songs guys" etc. etc. etc.

A lot of shit went down in LA. I heard about all of it in great detail. Sat in the same apt. wishing them well, hoping it would all turn out alright. I listened to Cain; I was his shoulder. He listened to me; he was my shoulder. We laughed. We cried. It was better than CATS. We have weathered many storms in this past year alone and I never, ever thought it would end the way it did.

My head started spinning about a week ago.

I was in Rori's apt waiting while she did her hair. Music was spilling from her iPod, trying and failing to drown out the sounds of the most annoying cat that has ever lived. The music swelled and I started to feel a little down.

You see, Adam died about a month ago and the lead singer pleading from her iPod reminded me a hell of a lot of Adam. I was very sad the week after I learned he passed. In fact, I wrote about it here, on the interweb.

The spinning, the drowning started right.....there.

I was instantly reminded of an email Val sent me, warning me of a discovery that I would make if I did a little research. "Search [redacted] on iTunes. You're not gonna be happy." That's what she sent me. I did not heed her warning. Truth is, I wasn't near my own computer and completely forgot about it.

Until I was standing over the iPod staring at a playlist that was more than a little familiar. It was all a lie. Adam, the band, the friendship, LA, the record deal, the music, the stories, oh the countless stories. They were all fucking lies, fabricated by Cain, the boy I used to regard as a brother.

Spinning. Spinning. Spinning.

I sat on it for days, not knowing what I wanted to do with it. Why? I thought. Why the fuck would someone do that? And then I didn't want to know. Because the ends have certainly not justified the means.

There's no feeling quite like learning that you mourned the death of a person that never really existed. They may have existed on some level, but certainly not on the level that I was led to believe. I felt stupid and then I felt angry. And now I feel nothing, except maybe confused.

It's all so very surreal, the thing that dreams, or rather nightmares, are made of. Cheesy music videos and poorly written films end the way this friendship feel like it has. "It was all just a figment of your/his imagination." That's basically what it feels like. But it's not. This reality, or hyper-reality, or interweb-reality, or god knows what. It's real. It happened.

The lies were epic, legendary, if perhaps something would've been gained from all of the effort. Instead, a lot was lost, friendships were shattered, trust: a thing of the past.

I'll tell you what, I have told some pretty crazy lies in my day. But this, this is way beyond me. I don't know that I'll ever understand it. I don't think that's possible.

So, really, here I am. Mourning the death of another friend who was actually the same friend. Whether or not he actually goes through with it this time is completely irrelevant. Because it's over.