Welcome to Hell

Welcome to hell. Please take a number. Her Evilness will be with you when she damn well feels like it.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Liberace's piano, Take Two:

remember this post?

yeah. i gots proof.

check it out:

so i'm at my dad's house, snapping the piano,

dad's like, "what on earth are you doing?" after all, not like i haven't seen, lived with, and played a million pianos.

what i thought: "oh, you know, capturing your awesome flamboyantness for the entire world to look at online..."

what i said: "well, i have this blog, kinda like an online journal..."
dad just looked at me like i've lost my goddamned mind.
who knows, maybe he's right, but still

is that not liberace's piano, ladies and gentlemen, right there before your eyes?
eh? eh?

Saturday, May 15, 2010

a bit belated, but whatever...

so a while back, i'm out on this date with a girl i have recently met.

we are like-minded souls - bipolar, crazy, screw both sexes unapolagetically types of girls. we've both recently moved to new orleans, and we're enjoying a night on the town, out in the quarter.

we are in jackson square. the reason we're in jackson square is that R has told me, as we were sitting at a bar, "hey, i may be totally off base here, but do you just want to get out of here and make out like a middle schooler?"
yes, yes i do.
so, we go to jackson square, plop down on a step, and make out, probably to the vague shock of the very old couple meandering around a few yards away.

all of a sudden, R's phone beeps, she checks it (she ALWAYS checks it) and starts hopping up and down, and screaming.
"what?" i say.

"healthcare bill passed!"

we hold hands, and jump up and down, going, "YES YES YES YES!"

"argh this is awesome, i just wanna.... skip or something!" i say.

so, we do.
we hold hands, and skip all around jackson square.

partially because we are dorks, partially because one day, i would like to go to the dentist again. and the eyedoctor. and also maybe pay for allergy meds. all of the above would be terrific.

and despite being a total cynic about pretty much everything (okay well i'm a realist but everyone thinks i'm a cynic), i do have hope that one day, america will get its ass in gear and take care of its people. we all deserve it.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

you can blame my high school friends for this one

R: "i know what you need to be when you grow up..."

J: "what?"

R: "okay, first you have to go to gynecological college..."

J: "gyno- ... gyneco, gynecological college?"

me: "you can't even say it!!!"

R: "yeah. then, you need to go to Preacher college, and then buy a really big van..."

J: "keep going, i like this..."

R: "print on the side...

J. M.
Full Gospel

...and then go around..." ::pantomimes doing an exam::

J: "Oh Happy Day!!"

we all die laughing.

J: "yeah, well, you know how we could have prevented this. it sure wasn't jesus that came into you..."

ladies and gentlemen, i present a mere snippet of my 12th grade high school english class...that so happened to be written down in a random notebook.
(yes guys, you're welcome for not using your full names!)

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Sigur Ros once saved my soul.

i so happen to have a nice case of bipolar disorder.
(actual diagnosis: Bipolar Type II Rapid Cycling, if it means something to ya...)
about this, i will no doubt expound, at a later time. suffice to say it's managed, mostly, and i mostly enjoy this.
mostly. : ]

::brief pause in today's blog topic::
whoa. i just saw a plastic bag floating by my porch, and it wigged me the fuck out, i am jumpy tonight. we are on the second story, so when i see something out of the corner of my eye at my open front door that looks kinda like it could be someone's head.. i take notice. especially at night.
it's been really windy today, we have foul weather rolling over us, but as yet it hasn't bothered to rain on us...
as many may know, there is a completely gigantic oil spill in the gulf of mexico right now. this is NOT GOOD. and it's probably a good thing the rain hasn't made it worse (yet), but we are due for like a week of rain sometime soon, and i really wish it would just get it over with, because it's muggier than shit outside and i am sick of it, and i don't want to turn on my air conditioner just yet...
::resume blog post::

so anyway, i went through this horrid, horrible, very bad, no good breakup once. (well okay, it's happened a few times.) this particular one was in winter, 2007/2008. since i am bipolar, even when i am medicated, i don't do so well with catastrophic life events. i tend to get volcanically upset. i am also, typically, manic in the winter. combine being manic with being violently upset about life, and well, fireworks fly.
especially when the person i'm in the process of breaking up with/getting back together with/breaking up with (repeating, ad nauseum, over the next year...) also lives in my house.

the event went something like this:
Boy: um, i know we're in an open relationship (so we wouldn't have to break up), and i've said "i love you" a bunch over this past year, but i'm gonna break up with you to chase this 21-year old virgin art student's tail.

it's just him, and me. we have no roommates to help us deal, nothing. we also are six months into a year-long lease, in possibly the best house i've ever lived in (that did not also house my parents). neither of us want to go anywhere, and both of us are very stubborn.

to this end, things got a bit nasty. i mean, we probably weren't trying to "get" each other intentionally, but behavior was all over the board - mine, especially.
2 days after he broke it off, we had "breakup sex," (so-called), after which he told me he loved me (WTF?). then he went off in the next week to try and get with his art student, who was understandably quite wary about all of this, considering that she knew exactly what was going on in our household, and to her credit had encouraged us to get back together.

but, Boy would go off and return back from jaunting around art student at 3 or 4 am or so, (yes, i WAS obsessively paying attention, i'm crazy, remember?) and i would be either awake on the couch, obsessively writing, or fucking off on the internet. or i would be sprinting toward the bathroom to hurl. when my emotions get the best of me, my stomach gets super-upset.
i also knew this bugged the hell out of Boy, and made him feel guilty - and at the particular mental state i was in, i was just fine with him feeling guilty for a while.

like i said...bad behavior on both ends.
i was living on the couch, because i didn't want to sleep alone in my bed, which doubly compounded all of my problems - if i'd been upstairs in my bedroom ignoring the world, it probably would have worked out better for the both of us - but i couldn't sleep (manic and panicky), and so i would stay out in the living room stubbornly - plus it was cold as hell upstairs - winter, you know.

what saved me from this horrible cycle, was music.
Boy had a large surround sound system, which i dearly loved. i had become stuck on a certain Sigur Ros song, svefn-g-englar. i was so in love with this song - i had it on all the time. (to listen/see video, go here)

to cope with my general craziness and my life, whenever i felt like i was really gonna start freaking out, i'd take a blanket off the couch, lay it on the floor, put svefn-g-englar on the stero, on repeat, turn it up loud enough to wake the neighbors, and curl up in the fetal position with my head against the speaker. i would listen to this song over and over, until i fell asleep.

this probably drove Boy crazy, but i wasn't doing it for that reason - i did it to drown out all the chatter in my head - and it worked! suddenly, i was able to get up off the couch, and go sleep upstairs, after getting groggy by the speaker.

to this day i regard this as the weirdest thing, but i'll tell you what - if your head won't shut up, loud music is key - just crank it, get really close, and play your favorite song a million times - preferably something fairly laid-back, not like Tool, which will amp you up - and chill. lie back, listen, and remember: you don't always have to deal with your crazy. sometimes you can make it shut up!

also, sometimes, you can go get laid on a random one-night stand, come back from portland covered in hickeys, and get snatched up by ex-Boy, with the result of awesome sex, guilty nights, more awesome sex, more guilty nights, and a whole bucketload of angst for both of you - involving awesome sex.

i probably wouldn't recommend it, though. ; ]

(i'm sorry, Boy, but in retrospect it's almost humorous, no? has enough time passed where it's funny yet?)
yes, we're still friends, and don't hate each other, and yes - i consider this a welcome miracle.

now, on the count of 42, go listen to loud music with your head on the speaker....
: ]