Tuesday, August 27, 2002

Speaking of birthdays, Happy Birthday to Monica! Hope you have a great one, you damn cripple! For any random people reading this blog, go visit her site and sign her guestbook. She likes that. Make her day! And tell her who referred you!

And now, I sleep.

Monday, August 26, 2002

Hey! I just did my very own Amazon.com wish list. Click on it to buy me stuff! Act now, my birthday is in just over 3 weeks. (September 17th to be exact.) Sure, I don't get naked or perform anything else for the things on my wishlist. But if you've read this blog, you know that I need something to go my way. (Ha!) So take pity on this old soul (I'll be 28! *gasp*) and buy me something. (Caution: most items on the list are big ticket items. I figure, why wish for stuff that I could buy myself?)

Sunday, August 25, 2002

More blog therapy...

So yesterday, in another fit of unedited catharsis, I did something I didn't think I could ever do. I won't say what it was, but I regret it already. I honestly believe I did the right thing, but the short-term consequences are hurting me a lot more than I expected. No matter how much you get used to something, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. At least, that's how it is with me, anyway. But this is as much of who I am as my eye color or shoe size. Whenever I get something inside me, I have to get it out, no matter the backlash I may face or emotional turmoil I may be subjecting myself to. I think the aspect of my personality that I've wielded to get cheap laughs--that is, my ability to say without fear pretty much anything, no matter how ludicrous or how much of a lie it might be--has surfaced in other areas, making it impossible to have any kind of dialogue where I don't put everything on the table before the cards are even dealt. If I had some sort of internal editing mechanism, instead of embracing a "pure id" persona, I'd be much better about not leaving myself open. Of course, there is an irony afoot, as in this particular case, I've left myself open, but I'm not getting ANY response. I think I'd be a lot less upset if I knew what exactly was going on with all parties involved. Of course, I guess I should have gotten the whole story before leaping into emotional oblivion. But, that's pure id for you.

The Love Calculator

This is an oldie, but in a fit of nostalgia (and while searching for answers from any source), I came across it again. Slightly less bogus than the biorhythm stuff you find on the web. Why? Because I said so.

The good news, of the celebs that I matched myself with, Natalie Portman was my closest match. Yes! I wonder if this is legally binding in court. (Ha!)

The bad news? Of all the people I actually know whose names I fed into this, my best match was the last person I needed a close match with. Stranger still, it wasn't even close. At least 50% higher than anybody else. Stupid site! You go squish now!

Saturday, August 24, 2002

Hey kids, what time is it?

Right now, it's 4:30 am, and I am in a semi-groggy state, having fallen asleep on my floor only to be woken up by the sound of Astronaut Jones (god bless Tracey Morgan) on the late rerun of Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Sadly, my half-awake state was throttled into complete submission to consciousness when The Strokes came out and played. Feh. Every time I hear them, I still can't believe the hype they received. Short-term memory is a disease that has tainted too much musical criticism these days. Oh well. I'm too tired to get into this debate right now.

And now, Access Hollywood is going on about Ashanti being snubbed by some misanthropic 'net fans who thinks she doesn't deserve the award she's up for. My kingdom for a sledgehammer. Damn.

Bed. Need bed. Will I do it? Nahhhhhhhhh....

Friday, August 23, 2002

Borderline Personality Disorder:

A person who suffers from this disorder has labile interpersonal relationships characterized by instability. This pattern of interacting with others has persisted for years and is usually closely related to the person's self-image and early social interactions. The pattern is present in a variety of settings (e.g., not just at work or home) and often is accompanied by a similar lability (fluctuating back and forth, sometimes in a quick manner) in a person's affect, or feelings. Relationships and the person's affect may often be characterized as being shallow. A person with this disorder may also exhibit impulsive behaviors and exhibit a majority of the following symptoms:

frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.

a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.

identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)

recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

chronic feelings of emptiness

inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Wednesday, August 21, 2002

Ahhhhh...this is more like it. That post every three days shit was not me. A couple of weeks between posts is more like it. Sadly, I have not been filling that time productively. I did spend two weekends with my father, who was visiting from California, so that was fun. Especially since one of the weekends involved being with my entire family (mother, father, sisters, brother-in-law, nephew and niece), which is always good for piece of mind.

Other than that, I can't report much. Have some more drama, but I refuse to put it into words (mostly because there are some things I just don't like to put into words, but also because I'm not sure what I would say, anyway). Have had less work-related stress, which helps, but I'm still feeling out of sorts. I've been trying to diagnose what I might have, and the closest thing I can come up with is Borderline Personality Disorder. I don't think that's it, but it's close. I should probably seek therapy, but hey, life's no fun without taking a chance, right?

What else? Hmmmmmm...well, yesterday, I picked up the new Neko Case album and have been listening to it pretty much non-stop. It's an amazing disc, with Ms. Case being backed by Giant Sand. Mmmmm....that's good music! I'd find a link to a track to download, but dammit if I'm not lazy. Besides, everyone out there seems to be stealing music these days, so I'm sure you can get it yourself. I recommend "Runnin' Out of Fools," where Neko nearly matches Aretha (who did the song in the early 60s) on vocals. Strangely enough, this is one of only 3 records I've ever bought based on hearing it being played in a store, the other two being Velvet Underground's VU ("Ocean" pulled me in) and, I'm not making this up, Aretha Franklin's I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You.

And...that's about it. Feh.

Thursday, August 8, 2002

Going to try to be a little less intense than I have been in my last two posts. All the same things are still bothering me, sure, but why prattle on about them?

Of course, that leaves me with absolutely nothing to talk about. I could write a bunch of random sentiments in an attempt to be witty and irreverant, but I don't even have the miscellaneous debris rattling around in me nogging to act on that notion.

Here's a random thought: Dave Chappelle is always the best guest on Conan O'Brien. Hands down. The only person who comes close (and very close, I'll concede) is Scott Thompson. If they put out a DVD of all the Conan appearances by those two (and they could fill out the rest of the DVD with all of the Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, "Bill Clinton" and maybe even the Martha Stewart appearances; Conan's show is the only place I've seen her not act like a total psycho), I would definitely by it. And hey! Just heard on Conan that Dave Chappelle is getting his own show on Comedy Central. Jackpot!

Another stray thought: for the first time in seven years, I'm going to miss Sonic Youth when they play in the D.C. area. I am seriously saddened by this turn of events. They play tomorrow night (technically tonight) at the 9:30 with Erase Errata and Mary Timony (*swoon*). With my luck, this will wind up being their last tour or something. At least they would be doing it on a high note. Murray Street totally fucking rocks.

Okay, one last thing, then I'm headed for bed. I know she's a bit of a ditz, and a gold-digger, and not very talented in any way, but I really, REALLY think the harshness in criticism of Anna Nicole Smith in the press and just about everywhere has been unfair. Particularly since most of it centers not around her lameass show but mostly around the size of her body. So she's put on some weight; big fucking deal. I still think she's gorgeous. Perhaps as dumb as a post, but I don't think she's lost anything in the looks department. If the majority of the comments were about the inanity of the show, or how vapid she appears to be, I'd have less of a problem. But most of the criticism is just people taking potshots at her because she's "fat" now. Feh! Idiots, the lot of them.

(Fun fact! The first Playboy magazine I ever bought featured Anna Nicole Smith! Perhaps my affection for her is also tinged with sentimentality.)

Charlie Daniels sitting in with the Max Weinberg Seven on Conan! Huzzah!

Bonne nuit.

Monday, August 5, 2002

Hey look! An update to this ridiculous blog within three days of the previous post! Huzzah!

I just wanted to use this space, at this time, to express this sentiment: falling out of love is one of the hardest things an attention monkey like myself can do. I've realized that I have an affliction commonly attributed to women (not entirely unfairly), and that affliction is the belief that I am incomplete somehow without a woman in my life. This really doesn't surprise me; ever since my first serious relationship, I've found that some way or another, I have moved from woman to woman just to fill the void. And it's not always romantic; it simply requires somebody I can care about that cares about me as well. And I've gone through ridiculous lengths and done ridiculous things to keep from being alone.

So while this is not really a revelation for me, what is kinda surprising is how it never gets any easier. I'm not proud at all to be cursed with this, but what can I do? I'm just....*counts on fingers*....one man.

Friday, August 2, 2002

Jesus tap-dancing Christ! What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Actually, the question is rhetorical. I know what is wrong with me. It's what the French call le depression. I think that's what they call it. Does it even matter? They're french! Feh!

Anyway, yeah, I'm finally caving into that fashionable web trend of whining about my life right here on the web. In my defense, this is about the only place I can talk candidly about what's going on without getting perplexed or worried looks. Why am I even prefacing my remarks? Who fucking reads this thing? (Okay, I can name 2 people who do, but they already know all of this--on some level, anyway--so it won't be news to them if they choose to swing by the blog.)

So, back to my point (see? there it goes...), I have, for some time now, been battling with depression, which in the last month has taken a turn for the worst. Not in the dire, get him on the hotline way...I'm much too queasy to do anything violent to myself or others, even if I do think about it. Anyway, it's been very crippling, and I'm not sure how to get past it. I am becoming incredibly lethargic (which is dangerous for someone who is already pathologically lazy) and have no interest in seeking solace in the world outside of my apartment. I've cut off my friends, who for a while now have been used to not seeing me as much because of financial reasons. So it's convenient to have that worked out ahead of time, so I don't have to deal with explaining to friends why I don't want to go out with them. This also has the added "benefit" of me not having to talk about my depression. I know that sounds puzzling, as everybody says that talking about it with someone--anyone--will help. And if I could afford it, I probably would consider therapy (even though I remain largely skeptical about how effective that would be for me. (I emphasize me to point out that I do believe therapy is effective, but only for the right people. Anyway...getting off that tangent...I don't like talking about it because I don't really have (m)any friends who have an experience dealing with this, and quite frankly, I have no interest in talking about my problems with people who can offer me nothing in terms of credible counsel. So...I suffer. I have been able to alleviate some of it by talking to my mother (who also suffers from depression) this past weekend. But even that (which eventually included a trip to see her and my niece and nephew) proved a temporary relief, mostly because I hate burdening my mother and worrying her (and she was very worried, as she's never really seen me this way) and I felt guilty, even though I know I shouldn't because I know she wants to help.

So ends my harrowing tale of sadness and lethargy. I probably will delete this entry in a day or two. But, I felt it necessary to type this out, probably for the small, therapeutic benefits of getting this out in the "open."