Only the Lonely.

Happy Valentine's Day, Romantics!

So, I'm thinking I should probably recap my Valentine's Day for those of you who are curious. (It did NOT include me giving the masterpiece of a mixed CD to PVille Guy.)

It actually started with me getting d-runk, t-rashed, and other such variations of the word, while bowling in Parma. Yes, Parma. For those not in the know (international friends), Parma is pretty much the Ohio equivalent to... um... Chino. I hate to go all OC here, but I would never- NEVER- date someone from Parma- or Chino. Pretty much all of the westside of the Cleve (with the exception of Lakewood) is just a waste of space. Ohio ends at Cleveland for me. (But what about Cedar Point you say? I don't consider that part of Ohio, really.) Anyway, I could go on and on and on about how much I detest Parma and how the eastside of Ohio is the lesser of the two evils (Ohio is just lame all around).

Aaaaaaanyway, I realized that I was the cutest person at the bowling alley. This was a double-edged sword. Great because everyone needs to feel like they're the hottest in the room at least once in their life, not so great because there was not really any one worth my time and effort there (think the cast of "Napolean Dynamite). Of course this led to the increased imbibing of several drinks- including a standby man for any girl, Jose Cuervo.

None of this is relevant if not for the Cuervo that led to the Horrible Hangover of 2009. Not only was I wishing for death, I was hoping it would be quick and painless- like death by French Swordsman or something.  Of course, the days you wish that you were laying in bed relaxing/recovering are always the days before you have twenty of your mother's closest AA friends coming over for a brunch.  

I made cookies and cake and not once did I think of how sad it is that I would be sharing these not with a sig-o*, but a group of recovering alcoholics (actually, on second thought, they probably appreciated it a lot more than a guy would anyway).  

And yes, I did watch Romantic "Girl with unrealistic job and salary meets guy with unrealistic job and salary in New York city and then fall in love, but wait! there's a problem, but no- they're ok because now they're running toward each other on a street" Comedies.  "Must Love Dogs," "Somethings Gotta Give" (really disturbing for younger people, by the way. I had nightmares of Jack Nicholson wanting to date me.), and "How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days" (the most annoying, by far).  Oddly enough, by the end of all of this, I was actually NOT curled up in the fetal position and singing "All By Myself" on the floor.

It was weird.  Because, really, I didn't feel anything.  Not upset or angry or sad.  Hungover, yes, but other than that pretty damn good.  It was like a reassuring "You're gonna be ok" from some unseen voice somewhere.  And gosh darnit, I was!

Why can't they make a movie like that?  Girl with realistic job, crap car, and underpaid salary meets guy with too many issues to count, falls in love, he breaks her heart, she realizes she's ok- no running toward each other on the street.  The end.  Roll credits.  I can understand why the "Friday the 13th" remake did so well this weekend, I guess.  Guy meets girl, guy kills girl, guy kills another girl.  It's the same idea.

For next year, or really any time that you feel the need to immerse yourself in that lovey-dovey feeling, skip the Matthew McC/Goldie Hawn's daughter drivel and go for "Say Anything."  You will love it and respect yourself in the morning.  And that right there reminded me that there's still hope for finding a real Lloyd Dobler.

*Significant other. 

Oh Phil.

Grr....

I don't think I could take two more days of winter, much less 6 weeks.

Lonely Hearts Club. (the original soundtrack.)

Yeah, yeah- I'm temporarily back. I've been a little distracted as of late between looking for Boston apartments, trying to figure out the mindfuck that is "Lost," and tax season (which is done for me as of 9:00 am EST this morning- I like to file ASAP). In all of this I decided to create a Valentine's Day mix. Originally for PVille guy, meant only as a "Here's some cool music in the form of a cheap homemade mix cd to tell you on this Valentine's Day that I enjoy occasionally having sex with you when I'm bored." Although the less interested (read: more bored) I become with him, the more I seem to be making this cd for my own benefit to assure the fact that I can still organize good songs that share a similar theme into a cohesive playlist with a rise and fall, blending together effortlessly. Alanna has perfected this art and only a couple of my efforts ("Going Home for Turkey Day 2003" and "Miami Graduation Present/Goodbye Alamo") have come close to a seamless compilation.

The goal of the mix cd/tape (depending on how old you are) is to make the recipient listen to the whole cd without wanting to skip ahead or turn it off. Also, it should be said that the art of the mixed tape is oft abused by mopey boyfriends and horny college frat boys (who think that any combination of DMB, John Mayer, Guster, and whatever the college band du jour is will get them laid). Case in point, a friend of ours at Miami of Ohio asked if Alanna would craft a "lovemaking" cd for him and his girlfriend (one of our other roommates). In an act of rebellion and disgust (and an earlier example of an exercise in childish behavior), we "accidently" slipped "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails to "spice" up the moment with his virginal girlfriend. Nothing says love me tender like "I wanna fuck you like an animal." *

So, getting back to me- it's still a work in progress but here's what I got so far (with accompanying liner notes):

1. "Sometime Around Midnight" by the Airborne Toxic Event (it's awesome)

2. "Crush" by Dave Matthews Band (which I really debated on due to its college dorm room feel)

3. "Satellite" also by Dave Matthews Band (because it's my favorite song- sorry, but I still have some Miami girl left in me, also when this was originally for PVille guy it was important because that's his favorite band)

4. "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional (I heard this song on "Scrubs."  I liked it. This does not, NOT, mean I like the band.)

5. "Put A Little Love In It" by Ike Reilly

6. "Commie Drives A Nova" also by Ike Reilly (ok, I understand that one of the unspoken rules of mixes is to try to not repeat artists but I love both of these songs and think they add some levity to the whole cd. also, If i need to cut somebody, then I can choose between the two).

7. "Squeezebox" by the Who (again, another PVille guy reference because he hates them but I think this song is funny and somewhat relevant to the bra size I wear).

8. "Every Little Thing She Does" by the Police(an addition made after thinking I didn't want to give this cd away. this song makes me happy)

9. "Sex on Fire" by Kings of Leon (title self explanatory)

10. "Good Feeling" by Violent Femmes. (to give myself indie "street cred". also love it because it is marshall and lily's "song" on "how i met your mother.")

12. "Don't Panic" by Coldplay (not exactly a love song, but definitely an important track on the soundtrack of Pville and I)

13. "All I Want Is You" by U2.  (it's not Valentine's Day without Bono.  it's not meloncholy without Ireland).

14. "La La Love Song" by the Pixies.  (I love the Pixies.  That is all.  Actually, "Where Is My Mind" would have made more sense in it's nonsense, if you can make sense of that.)

15.  "Lovesong" by the Cure.  (again, Valentine's Day + Melancholy.)

Like I said, it's still a work in progress (I have 14 days + to go so I'm not worried).  As for who gets it, maybe PVille Guy but probably not.  I totally want to use the above piece as cover art.  The site listed below is where I'm still finding inspiration:

Indie Selections for Your Erection

Any thoughts???

*I apologize for the amount of " " in that sentence- now I feel like that guy everyone hates who always uses them in casual conversation.

Resolution 2009.

1. Move. To Boston. To Queens. To Compton. I don't care. I just need to get out of here.

2. Learn to play guitar. Go to college parties. Drown out other annoying person playing Mayer and Dave with obnoxious renditions of the 504 Boyz "I Can Tell You Wanna Fuck" and "Candyshop" by Fifty Cent ("Everybody all together now- I'll take you to the, what what, CANDYSHOP...")

3. Marry Bill Hader (SNL).

4. Well, first I need to get the restraining order reversed. Then I'll marry Bill Hader.

5. Also, get Jon Hamm restraining order reversed, or at least lessened to 250 yards.

6. But really folks, I want to find a nice guy. And if he does a really good Vincent Price impression, that'd be ok too.

7. Train Lucky to locate drugs, er, I mean cancer. Train Lucky to be one of those cancer sniffing dogs. He really needs to pick up a skill and get a job or I'm kicking him out. Otherwise, I'm just enabling him.

8. Be completely fabulous and make sure John knows it. Related: Not have a baby.

9. Watch "Friday Night Lights" when season 3 premieres on NBC in February. Because I was told that if I loved good TV, that I really should be watching this. Also, I need to start watching more "Chuck" and less "Gossip Girl." But... Chuck Bass... and Blair... Little J... and I have to... but I mustn't. It's not going to be easy.

10. Read a book a week. This means 52 books. I realized that my brain is Jell-O recently and that's just simply not acceptable. So I will read again.

and because everyone else does it:

11. Go to the gym. I really should. I miss my 2005 Hot Waitress Bod. Not saying I'm not hot, not saying that at all, but I used to be able to run back and forth with a heavy tray without needed to stop to catch my breath. "Wall-E" was really a wake up call for me.

Oh, and one more:

12. Get my dream job: Craft Services for Saturday Night Live. I'm coming Bill.

Remember when we partied like it was 1999?

BALL... hehe

To be clear, I do not think that Seacrest's Rockin New Year's Eve is, in fact, Rockin. I think it sucks. I think it sucks every year, as I think EVERY New Year's special sucks every year. I think Seacrest is an asexual Ken doll with no man parts. AND...

I think that New Year's itself is a waste of time.

"Oh, boo hoo," says the peanut gallery. "You just don't have anyone to spend it with this year."

To that I say "Fuck off." THEN I shall explain why I hate it so much.

I have had someone for the past four years to kiss when the ball dropped. (Before that, no one was good enough). Hey guess what? None of those four years were particularly good years so that throws the "But it's good luck!" theory right out the window. The Thailand Tsunami/Katrina both still happened in 05 after kissing Jeffrey on NYE 04. I kissed John NYE 05 (2006 had me dropping out of school), NYE 06 (2007 I had a nervous breakdown and also totaled my car on the way to work one morning), and NYE 07 was the beginning of the worst -WORST- year of my 25 on this planet: wrecked another car on an icey road (injuring my back), lost my job, lost my license, was jobless and car-less for six f-ing months, FCOG, the stock market crashed, a lot of good people died including Heath Ledger, the Mumbai terrorist attacks, that fuckstick Jim Pardo slaughtered his whole family on Christmas Eve, Prop 8 was approved, Sarah Palin forced her way into our lives, I'm sure Jennifer Hudson didn't really think too much about who her hot date would be, and oh yeah, in a total declaration of my self-centered-ness, John fucked me over time and time again [read About Me section].

But I digress.

I'm not complaining that this year sucked hardcore (even though it did). I'm just saying that having someone to spend NYE with is not as important as everyone makes it out to be. Bad things happen every year no matter how hot your date is that night. Actually some of the worst fights John and I ever had were spun from NYE trivialities.

It's a completely overrated holiday that can only claim any importance because it is on a list with Day Before Thanksgiving and St. Patrick's Day as one of the biggest drinking days of the year. So, excuse me if the thought of getting plastered and nearly blacking-out through what is supposed to be a "night to remember" isn't my idea of fun. But that's just a child of a recovering alcoholic speaking. Midnight happens 365 times a year (and sometimes 366). Just because we have to spend $14.95 on a new Girls Next Door calendar on 12/31, doesn't make it any different that 3/24 or 6/12 or 8/30.

The hype was over when nothing happened at 12:00 am Year 2000. Will we survive? Will the computers destroy us all? Will I have to start dressing like Neo and live in the Matrix? Do I have a generator and enough bottled water? Will I be forced to shoot someone to protect my family from crazy looters? And then... nothing. Y2K just killed it for me.

So, I'm spending New Year's by myself if you didn't catch that.

New Year's Eve plans.

Things I could be doing on Wednesday night rather than sitting at home and falling asleep at 10:38:

Hmm...


I could be watching the Jo Bros and Taylor Swifty McSwifterson on Ryan Seacrest's Hijacked Pre-Recorded Rockin New Year's Eve featuring special greeting by a half-dead Dick Clark...

Writing "Fuck 2008" in kerosene on my front lawn and then dropping a match at 12:00...

Sending out a mass email blast stating that I have all of the following STDs (followed, of course by a very detailed list and description of symptoms, pictures included) to everyone I've slept with in the past 7 years of my sexually active life with subject line, "Happy New Year, And By The Way...". Concluding with the words JUST KIDDING, BUT SERIOUSLY FOLKS- GET TESTED. THIS PSA BROUGHT TO YOU BY ME, BECAUSE I CARE...

Sitting in silence in my mother's boyfriend's living room, questioning the purpose of my life and staring at the newly installed crown molding, while the old folks play a marathon of gin rummy...

Making Thank You "for turning me into an Ice Queen who will never trust another man, ultimately taking out her repressed anger toward all men on the poor schmuck who ends up marrying her..." cards to send to the last three or four guys I've dated...

Kidnapping a little kid from the daycare next door and feed him a lot of sugar and cookies and chocolate before returning him, saying "I just found him wandering in the strip mall parking lot across the street. He was like this when I found him. I swear!"...

Going to a fancy restaurant, order really expensive champagne, a really expensive filet mignon, make them break open the 20 year old scotch, and then dash/dine (give em the ol' slip)... BUT! Leave a $100 cash tip for the waitress...- of course this will be thwarted by my inherited clumsiness (big feet + top heaviness means that I can rarely get away with anything quickly).

Teaching myself how to play "Teardrops on My Guitar" and go play outside of John's bedroom to see how much he freaks out (of course substituting John for Drew- John loooooks at meeee, I fake a smile so he wooon't seeee...)...

Having a dance party. By myself. To "Jizz in My Pants." On repeat. Wait! Mix "Jizz" with "Shake It." OK, that sounds gross (ribbed for her pleasure, ewwwww). Ok, "Jizz," "Shake It," "Womanizer," and "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off." I don't know why but I'm really liking that song again, plus it throws off the whole "2008 was all about the sex" theme I had going...

Writing my list of goals for 2009 (see next post)...

Getting in my flannel pajamas, grab a box of tissues and some chocolate and watch "Sleepless in Seattle" as I mouth the words and hold my mother's cat hostage in my lap (it's as close to masochism that I get, people)... - actually this is more of a Valentine's Day activity

So yeah. Looking at those choices, I think I'm just gonna go ahead and take some Vicodin/I mean drink a glass of wine and go to bed.

Christmas Pooch.

I think the one who really made out this Xmas was Lucky, my lab/pit mix. On Christmas Eve, he received his stocking (yes, I know that stockings are reserved for Christmas Morning but he's a dog so I don't think he realizes that a big fat intruder is supposed to come in on Christmas Eve). He got a 'kerchief that says "Good Dog," a stretch of the imagination since he is most certainly not, the knuckle bone of some poor slaughtered cow who didn't get to see one last Christmas, pig hides, and dental bones for his somewhat "stank" breath. Also, the cat gave him dog treats. (Lucky gave him a whole bag of catnip.) He was overjoyed. I could almost hear the conversation:

LUCKY: Dude, I got you a whole bag of bud. And you reciprocate with a few lousy biscuits? Gee, thanks man.

TOMCAT: (licking his paws in indifference) And I'm supposed to care why...?

Oddly enough, it sounded a lot like conversations between my sister and me.

Christmas!

I will be "out of the office" to celebrate the holidays with my family for the next five days. To everyone out there, have a great time and merry christmas!

I hope Jesus forgives me.

So, I have a confession to make. It is one that haunts me every Christmas- especially because I live in Cleveland and this is considered sacrilege... what's that? I'm not a browns fan? Yes, that's true but I feel that this may be even worse. Ready?

Seriously... this is bad.


I've never....


...actually seen "A Christmas Story." Ahhhhh! I know, I know. I'm sorry. Calm down. I told you it was bad. The funny thing is I get worse reactions to that here then I probably would if I told them that I was holding key evidence in the Marilyn Shepherd murder case for all these years.  Or that I really really hate the Browns.  Or that I think the Rock Hall is more of an eyesore then a tourist attraction and the whole thing should be moved to New York since it costs us more money then it makes us.  Or that I think the Cuyahoga River stinks to high heaven (burn on, biiig river, burn on).  

No, "A Christmas Story" is sacred here.  "But CJ," you ask "didn't that take place in Indiana or something?"  And you'd be right.  However, many key scenes (including in the department store) were filmed right here in the Cleve.  Ralphie's house is actually located here in Cleveland and is now a museum for fans of the film.  I think it's great that it's had such a long lasting legacy here.  You don't see a "Scarface" Museum at Tony Montana's mansion in Meeey-ami do you?  Or a Gump museum in Greenbow (ha, because Greenbow doesn't exist)?  Or a "Titanic" museum- oh wait, nevermind.   That we are part of such a film classic (considering that Hollywood hated us so much that they refused to film a movie about our own baseball team here- "Major League" was filmed mostly in Minnesota) is kind of comforting for culture vultures like myself.

That being said, I really just never have the patience to watch it.  "I thought you watched that when you were little?" my mom always says.  And I shake my head.  Because, save for the usual "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!," I have no idea what it's all about.  A kid and a gun and a lamp and Santa and a dad... I dunno.  

Call me sacrilegious, call me a phony, call me a Grinch.  Either way, I'm not going to make sure I catch it one of the 122,000,000+ times it will be on this week (including the 24 hour marathon on Christmas- which really pisses me off in itself).  The movie is the same age that I am, which doesn't mean it's bad but really kind of puts off first time viewers.

I realize that I am now "un-datable" to the many, many (ha) men that read this.  

Guess who's coming to town?!

Countdown to the big guy stands at T minus 5 days.

Where are you Christmas?

With the commercial blur that Christmas has become, all of my inspiration is usually tapped out around this year anyway. This year is worse though. It's really hard to get into the Christmas spirit when everyday on the news we have to hear about more layoffs, Detroit's decline, and more bad news for the Rust Belt cities (Cleveland included). Yesterday I went to buy a gift for someone at one of the store chains (Circuit City, Linens n' Things, KB Toys) that will be closing at the end of the year. While it was a good deal, I have to say it was kind of sad to see empty shelves and inventory in disarray, picked apart by bargain hunters. The lady who checked me out at the counter seemed cheerful, and I wondered if she was only hired on as extra seasonal help to deal with the heavy traffic.

Seems like lately, everyone's smile is a little forced here despite the holidays. Even my mother's hours working at the local state park have been cut and she's been forced to take back almost all of the presents she bought. "It's no big deal, mom," I told her as tears filled her eyes when she learned of the cutback. "I don't need so many things." It was like her spirit had broken right in front of me.

Last night, however, all this malaise about Christmas didn't stop my mom from decorating our tiny tree with brightly colored antique tin ornaments and sparkly snowflakes, opting out of our usual traditional Swedish tree with straw and red ornaments. She hummed and sang along to one of her favorite movies, "Mary Poppins," as I played with my puppy on the floor and for a few minutes, I felt like a kid again.

I'm going to make cookies tonight and hopefully the aroma of little mounds of diet-busting goodness will get me out of this funk.

Family Ties.

I know, I know, I'm super bad for not posting anything on Monday like I promised. I feel bad but I promise you I was busy at work yesterday. Not to mention, I just didn't feel like writing and getting myself all worked up again.

Holidays are for realizing you really only need two days a year to see your family, maybe three: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and maybe Easter (this depends on how big of a dinner you have that day or if you still get Easter baskets from your mom- I do). This had never been more apparent to me then on this past Thursday. It actually started the Monday before with my evil sister's arrival.

Have you ever seen "Mean Girls"? My sister is the character of Regina George realized. To put it nicely, she's the Queen Bee. She was in high school and she was when we were at college together and she still manages to monopolize the small group that makes up my family. I love her because I'm obligated to. I don't like her.

When we were at Kent together, she managed to con me into writing her papers. I also lent her money. I also bought her alcohol (she is two and a half years younger than me). In high school, I watched her date guys I had crushes on that were my age. And through all of this, I was always made to feel like I owed her something.

Cut to this TG. I had lent her money that was wired transfered at an interest rate of $20 via Western Union. I spent an hour on the phone at work to make sure she got her money. She assured me that the day after Thanksgiving, we would go shopping and she would pay me back. Well, instead she bought the turkey and Thanksgiving dinner with the money. She cooked and set up my grandmother's whole house. So when I asked for the money she owed me, I was told by my grandparents and mother to "stop being so ungrateful" and "pitch in around the house." Later, when I asked for the money and an apology, she rolled her eyes and told me I was being immature.

I shook my head and just let her be the Queen Bee, convinced I would still receive the money owed to me. I didn't want to ruin my grandparents' holiday so I kept my mouth shut.

On Friday, she made me aware that she would NOT be shopping with me, as was our tradition, because she'd rather be with her boyfriend. "Maybe if you thought about anyone but yourself, you would understand." And like an idiot, I brushed it off and went on to buy her and my mother several Christmas presents.

Then, Saturday morning, I asked my mom when sis would be stopping by to repay me. "Your sister left for Charlotte again this morning. She said she isn't repaying you because you owe her money I guess."

Folks, to say I was mad was an understatement. Again, I texted ad nauseum from the "You burned a bridge, don't ask me for any favors ever again" to "You're a manipulative snot" to "Your problems are not my problems, please don't call me with them ever." This time, I really don't even feel bad for it either.

My whole entire life (and I don't mean to sound like a bitter older sister, because I'm really not) it's been all about what she does. Parents do pick favorites, and she's it. I accepted that a long time ago. What I will not accept is letting her use that to her advantage.

The presents have gone back. I think $120 is a fair enough Xmas gift.