Monday, August 25, 2008

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Sunday, August 24, 2008 4:39 PM
Subject: list of fears secret

A friend of mine made a list of his fears and insecurities and had a friend of his make one of hers too in order to make me feel better when I was struggling with some personal problems. In return, I had to make one of mine. I was surprised at how long it was. Even more so, I was surprised at how therapeutic it was to share all of our darkest secrets with each other. I cried at first, but then we laughed about it and turned it into a joke.

I don't think I could've found healing so complete in anything other than those lists and the deeper connection it formed, even if it was temporary. I still read those lists sometimes. I get the same sort of feeling I get as when I read PostSecret, only it's a little more overwhelming. There's just a strong sense of belonging and connecting, of not being so alone anymore.


Well, I'm game. I'm afraid...

1. That I'll never find love. Oh, we all knew that one was coming so let's just get it out of the way. What is this, your first time on this blog? Get over it.

2. Of birds. Seriously. What the shit? Ground animals can only go side to side and forward and back; birds are fucking 3D! And with the little beaks and claws...gah.

3. That I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

4. That I know exactly what I want to be when I grow up.

5. Of angering people. I don't do well with that, even if I know that I am unequivocally in the right. I just don't like being yelled at.

6. Of being broke. I'm so fucking Jewish. I get really anxious if I don't have some sort of payment on me. The knowledge that with my credit and debit cards, I have enough money to get me from Siberia to my doorstep is a very comforting thought and when they're not on me, I'm deeply unsettled.

7. Of having to watch my parents express emotions. It's weird. My mother cried last week at my father's 60th birthday toast and I almost ralphed.

8. Of homophobia. What is that? Homophobiaphobia? In any case, I'm so not the social vigilante I dream of being in those situations. I tend to just sit there and stew and wish that everyone was queer for one day just to see what it was like.

9. Of heights. Though not really of heights, per se, so much as falling from heights. Heights by themselves are fine.

10. Of Virginia Wolff. Did you see The Hours? Bitch is scary.

11. Of the pedophile in the movie Little Children. That character was the cause of my only adult nightmares.

12. That two of my former dates/acquaintances/whatevers will start dating. It's bad enough when one starts dating a stranger, but somehow, if I know them both, I assume that talking about how much I sucked is like foreplay to them.

13. Of not having messages returned. That's why I don't leave them.

14. Of Male troubles. See previous post.

15. That I'll never make a truly great cream sauce. I'm a good cook; why the shit can't I do this?

16. Of starting anything that has the potential for failure, like a work out regimen. Cause better that I just not do it at all than to be in shape for 3 months?

17. Of Tori Amos, Madonna, Emily Haines and all those really strong female musicians that seem like they don't really like anyone.

18. That I'm too clever for my own good sometimes. This sounds like an ego booster; it's not.

19. Of becoming one of the lifers in opera chorus. Ugh.

20. To eat at Baked Expectations. EVERYONE has a horror story from that place, including mine of food poisoning by tia maria torte on my birthday. Dessert Sinsations 4 Life, yo.

21. To shave my head. My aunt suggested it last week and I've been seriously contemplating it, but that...that is a commitment. Plus, what I do about facial hair, sideburns, etc. These are the questions I have.

22. Of my dog. He's an asshole.

23. Of my dad's "Let's talk about sex" talks. I'm 24. You can stop now. And please never use the word "release" in my presence again.

24. Of not having any comments in response to this post.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Dear Friend...

What a whirlwind time we've had. This is, what, our eleventh year of being intimately acquainted? Better make it twelve. Of course, you've been there since birth, but we didn't really spend much time together until then. I've watched you grow with me throughout the years, through some good times and bad. You were always there to give me an honest opinion of the gents I was going out with and when I disregarded your initial reaction, I always regretted it. You're like my Rock of Gibraltar and, oftentimes, just as hard. Yes, you can be quite the most stubborn of companions, shooting off when I least expect it, barely making an appearance at social gatherings or simply going hot or cold without a moments notice. Sometimes having you in front of me makes me feel like a star and occasionally like a limp rag, but I always appreciate the attention paid when I take matters into my own hands. Even when things get a bit hairy, you manage to rise to the occasion and we thrust through together. If I have one complaint, it would be your inability to accept my protection when I just want to keep us both safe. Yes, I know, you're getting better and I appreciate that. But in these times, I have to be firm with you and I hope you'll return the favour.

I hate you. I adore you. And I know others have felt the same.

Just as you salute me, I salute you, my penis, my friend.

Friday, August 08, 2008

Oh Em Gee, Sarah! You know this shit is coming back now.

Brief update: My hellish tenure with the Fringe is over. I have no job. I have no plans. I'm-a be blogging a lot. Prepare for a hail storm of crap.