As of 3:20am on April 23, 2010, Larry Hagman is...alive! WIN!
BONUS ROUND! As of 3:21 am on April 23, 2010, Cella Hurst is...alive! DOUBLE WIN!
- I had the most absurd and vivid dream the other night and I'm going to share it with you because it was somewhat inspired by a blog comment. So! The other night I was walking home from work and I started thinking about how nice it is outside and how I can't believe the pool opens next month, and oh, speaking of pools, man I wish I owned a confederate flag bikini. And then I remembered the following blog comment:
Because really, what an awesome call. My sister and I used to watch Shag all the time when we younger and I can't believe I forgot about it. (But you bet your balls that shit shot to the top of my Netflix queue faster than you can say "Myrtle Beach".)
Then that night I dreamt that I let a Hollywood producer and director double-team me so I could get Bridget Fonda's role in the 2010 remake of Shag. True story. And even weirder, the double-teaming happened in my parent's shower and the director kept knocking shampoo bottles over and I distinctly remember being like, "GAHHH, you have to stop knocking those bottles over! My parents are gonna know we were in here!!!!1"
So...That's one way to get a confederate flag bikini, I guess? Although truth be told, I don't even know if I got the part in the end. I'd like to think I did. And also, call me crazy, but a remake of Shag doesn't sound like a horrible idea. I know, I know; they're remaking everything these days and it's kind of bullcorn, but I'd totally be all about a Shag remake. Specifically if I got to write it and play Bridget Fonda's part. Oh my god, what if I wrote it while wearing a confederate flag bikini? WHAT IF I DO ALL OF MY WRITING WHILE WEARING A CONFEDERATE FLAG BIKINI?! It would kind of be like Homer's chili boots, but it would be my writing bikini. I feel like I meant for this entire last paragraph to stay in my head but it didn't. Awkward...
- A homeless woman almost made me cry tonight. And not for obvious oh, poverty is so sad! reasons. More so because she was mean. I mean, she wasn't that mean; I've just been in a really fragile emotional state recently. I don't know what's going on with me. My depression fascinates me—it ebbs and flows without reason or rhyme. For all intents and purposes, I should be pretty happy right now. It's the spring, I like my job, I'm not stuck in the ghost factory with my evil bosses anymore, I have a bunch of fun trips coming up, I've got great friends, great family and a roof over my head in one of the best cities in the world—life is good. And yet, I'd say that I spent an estimated 85% of the past week curled up, fully clothed, in the fetal position in my bath tub singing The Rainbow Connection to myself.
I'm pretty sure this has to do with my birthday last week. I hate to seem predictable, but I don't like birthdays. I'm sure I sound like a total fucking killjoy because I feel like I'm always bitching about whatever holiday it is and how I don't like it, but I just don't like how holidays cause an unnecessary amount of reflection. I don't like reflecting. Because, hi, I'm a little bit crazy so when I reflect, I tend to just think about all of the things I haven't accomplished and end up feeling really empty and disappointed in myself. And birthdays and New Year's Eve tend to be when I'm the hardest on myself.
So I lock the door, put on a wife beater and my Jack Daniel's pajama pants, blast Gwen Stefani's What You Waiting For? and go white girl, go white girl, go! dance around my apartment for a while to psych myself up for all of the things that I will make happen this year. I will, I will, I will! Starting right now! I'm going to write that book! I'm going to try harder to put myself out there and meet a dude! I'm going to find a way to monetize the blog! I'm going to succeed! But ooooo.........there's a Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood marathon on. And my left foot hurts. And I can't find my bra. Welp! Better just sleep for 14 hours straight so I don't have to think about anything anymore. NIGHT!
And this frustrates me. Seriously. I just want to get a long pokin' stick and be like, "Hey, you. JAB, JAB. Stop that. Go do something." JAB. But I just can't get my shit together. And it's very frustrating.
Today I was feeling particularly frustrated with myself and as I was walking home from work tonight, a semi-loose cannon looking homeless woman approached me and said, "Excuse me, miss! Excuse me!" I'm terribly sorry, but I was not going to stop and talk to her. I don't know if that makes me a horrible person, but a.) I'm fucking broke b.) it was late and c.) I was in Georgetown and if Kal Penn can't take a late night stroll there without getting mugged, I'm sure as shit fucked. So I kept walking and said, "I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry." To which the woman screamed, "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, YA DUMB BITCH. I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS." Subscribing to the I Am Rubber And You Are Glue theory of life, I ignored her and kept walking, which prompted her to forcefully bark at me, "FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID-ASS CUNT."
Now, if I got upset every time a random homeless person yelled something nonsensical or hostile at me, I would have packed up my weekend hair and moved back to the suburbs years ago. Dealing with crazy people is part of the charm of living in a city and I wouldn't have it any other way. That being said, after the word "cunt" finished escaping this woman's lips, honest-to-god tears welled up in my eyes and I wanted to turn around and be like, "MADAM! TONIGHT IS NOT A GOOD NIGHT! I WOULD LIKE TO USE MY 'GET OUT OF BEING YELLED AT BY A HOMELESS PERSON, FREE CARD' NOW BECAUSE I RECENTLY TURNED 25 AND I FEEL FUCKING OLD AND LIKE I HAVEN'T ACCOMPLISHED ANYTHING IN LIFE AND I FEEL ALONE AND UNLOVABLE AND YOU NEED TO NOT CALL ME A STUPID BITCH OR A CUNT RIGHT NOW AND WALK AWAY BECAUSE I. HAVE. EMOTIONS!!!!1
But instead I went to Trader Joe's and got string cheese and beer. Because the path that involves not getting shanked by a homeless woman and dairy is always the path of least resistance.
- On a positive note, the mirrors in Becky's apartment are the most flattering mirrors I have ever seen in my entire life. I wish I was kidding when I say that I spent the better part of this afternoon strutting around her apartment, gazing at myself and being like, "My god you're attractive." Then I got to work, washed my hands and looked up into their mirror and was like, "GAH—PUT IT AWAY! PUT IT AWAY!" Sooooo, the moral of the story is I'm never leaving Becky's apartment. Ever. Hope she's cool with that.
- This blog post is so emo I could vomit everywhere. Let's take a break from me and listen to other people's problems for a while!
I recently hooked up with a long time crush. It was hot. I want more. He's a tad younger and all electronic forms of communication between us are new as we do not run in the same social circle/ see or speak to each other often.
Tell me how to play it. Make me look good here.
-Cannuck who likes to.....go for dinner. What did you think I was going to say???
Dear Hungry Cannuck,
I know very little about the two of you and your situation, but generally speaking, keep it casual. I find that any combination of random, funny and alcohol is usually fail-safe.
For example, I might text/email/facebook message him and say:
Did you know 4/20 falls on a Tuesday this year?
Sub questions: Did you know Tonic has 50¢ tacos every Tuesday night?
Um, the universe clearly has a plan for us and I think it would be foolish (and maybe even dangerous) to resist.
Of course, if 4/20 means nothing to you or you don’t think he’s into that kind of thing, I’ve found that smuggling a six pack into a movie theater for something like Hot Tub Time Machine is a perfect, no-pressure, non-date date. It just depends on what you’re both in to.
Bottom line, plan something fun/ridiculous (based on what you’re both in to) and invite him to join. It’s your call whether to make it a group thing or just the two of you; either way pitch it like you are going to do it regardless and he’s welcome to join in. If he’s interested in hanging out you’ll know-- boys don’t play hard to get. So if he doesn’t bite, don’t push it. Leave it alone until you either randomly run into each other again or something else fun comes up that you can casually invite him to (after at least a few weeks have passed). And if he does want to hang out, then I’m 84% positive that you two will hook up again as long as you still want to.
I have a few thoughts on this one:
1.) I feel like I'm on glue because I had to read that question like 9,000 times to figure out what that person was asking.
2.) Tonic has 50¢ tacos every Tuesday night? Seriously? What are the chances that this "slightly younger hook-up" you're referring to is me? Because if you asked me out to a high-taco night, I'd pretty much give it up to you in the cab on the way over.
3.) This question seemed sort of time sensitive...I hope I didn't ruin your game by postponing last week's Queer Abby because of my birthday. But if so, check it out—my birthday ruined both of our weeks! TWINSIES!!!
I hate my job. I truly do. I know that there is absolutely, 100% nothing unique to my situation ... soooo many people dislike where they work. I have a degree in journalism and am looking for a career in an advertising/PR firm. Well, thanks to the economy, media jobs are horrendously scarce and after months of searching after college, I had to settle on the first offer I was given - a graphic designer in the publishing industry. It's not glamorous, I promise. A year later I applied for and was given a job in the marketing department of the same company. I thought it was a huge step in the right direction to be in an ad agency, but I was wrong. I just make lists of who is appearing in what advertisement. Like most people in my department, I'm grossly over-qualified for the work (and my yearly income is below the national poverty line). I wouldn't mind that so much if the work was rewarding in the least bit. I work for a fast-growing company that introduces new products and services without telling anyone how to go about fulfilling them. We don't have time to get used to the changes before even more are introduced. There is no breathing room. People are being fired and hired constantly. I reach out for help and guidance just to get empty promises of, "We're looking into this" or "Someone will help you figure this out". I'm so overwhelmed and sick of staring at my computer screen for 8 hours a day, doing monotonous, paint-by-number work. I come home grumpy and tired. I've been looking for other work for over a year now and have little results. I don't know what to do. I'm so thankful to even have a job, and it makes me feel guilty for complaining ... I just need to figure out a solution to preserve my sanity.
Sorry that was long-winded,
Good news, Courtney! You’re completely allowed to hate your job even during a recession. And you’re right, you are in good company. So, here’s what you should do: start a blog that’s dedicated to ripping on the culture at your office and the ass-hats you work with. As long as you remain anonymous, you should totally be fine…oh wait. [Smart ass...]
Really though, I know so many people in this boat that I think it deserves a real answer. Over the last year, if you’ve just been searching a lot and applying occasionally because you’re not seeing much you love, you need to be less picky right now. The immediate goal is to get yourself out of the bad/uninspiring/unsatisfying situation, where you currently spend most of your waking hours. If you’re miserable and you’re not learning there anymore, almost any move will help you preserve your sanity and broaden your skill-set with transferable, if not directly relatable experience. You're exceptionally lucky that you at least know the direction you want to go in—that’s more than most people in their 20’s can say. But, for now, you don’t have to find the perfect job and you don’t have to stop the job hunt once you move on to something new.
If you’ve been pushing tons of resumes out with no luck, it’s possible your resume or cover letters could use some work. It’s worth paying someone to look over it with you, seriously. Let me know if you decide to go this route and I can put you in contact with some people I know who are great at this and very reasonably priced. You might also think about scheduling some informational interviews. It’s great way to network, get face time with people in your field and learn whether a company/job will get you where you want to be. Be shameless in asking for them, most people love talking about themselves (except Carolyn Hax apparently…she doesn’t know it, but we’re in a fight)
I'm torn. Part of me wants to take you in my arms, hug you and rock gently because I know the pain of what you're going through all too well. The other part wants to flick you in the tit as hard as I can because the unglamorous first job you "settled" for after college was the job I worked my ass off to get. But because you clearly read my blog, I'm going to go with the hug. So there. This is me hugging you. And rocking, ever-so-gently. Hugs!
Yeah man. I agree with Amy. It sucks, but you totally have the right to be like, "this sucks." I mean, I pretty much just had my period all over today's blog, so I'm obviously pro-whining. It's cathartic. Don't apologize or feel guilty for it. But like Amy said, you know what you want to do, so now it's just a matter of getting your inner poking stick out and jabbing yourself hard enough to go get it. In the mean time, you are more than welcome to watch Tori and Dean and binge drink the pain away with me any time.
Dear Queer Abby,
I recently was broken up with by a boyfriend. We were in a serious relationship for four years and were living together. I kind of had thought he was going to be... it. But, obviously not. Although I am glad that dirty fuck and I are over, I have also had a lot of issues maintaining my self-esteem and self-respect since the whole ordeal. Is there anything that I can do? I thought about trying out girls, but I can barely handle the idea of my own vagina much less another persons!
I guess what I actually really want to know is whether it is crazy to feel like every member of the opposite sex is completely uninterested in me. I mean, is my ex just under the impression that I am some monstrosity of a woman?! Are all men?! Because, I am interested in all of them. Well, except that dirty fuck. And only the attractive ones. That are funny. And, that are tall, and can carry an intelligent conversation, if needed.
A) I’m so sorry your relationship with your vagina is on the rocks.
B) I’m so relieved I don’t have to talk you out of that whole “trying out girls” thing.
C) Everything you’re thinking and feeling is 100% normal. I’m assuming for the past 4 years, you’ve taken your ex’s opinion of you pretty seriously. If you could just turn that off, I would be worried about you. But it will definitely become less and less important in how you see yourself.
D) His opinion (whatever it may be) does not reflect that of ANYONE else, and every member of the opposite sex is not totally disinterested in you. BUT people can sense it when someone is desperately seeking affirmation and approval from others because they feel like shit about themselves, so don’t. Concentrate on doing things that legitimately make you feel good about yourself like working out, traveling, taking on a cool project, buying stuff, learning stuff, or whatever else is your jam. And don’t worry about jumping right back into dating. You’re so much more likely to end up with someone who is good for you when you respect yourself and have a clear sense of who you are, what you want and what you deserve. It can take a minute to get there after a break-up.
E) I recently read somewhere that attractive, funny, tall, guys who can carry intelligent conversations on queue flock to women who love their va jay jays and are temporarily unavailable by choice. Don’t ask me why, it’s just science.
OK, this isn't advice at all, but one time freshman year of college, I was talking to my friend Jill on AIM about this very subject and we were being like, "Bahh, boys suck! I feel like shit about myself! Why can't I find a good guy?" blah, blah, blah and I said, "Sometimes I wish I were a lesbian. And then I remember how much I like dick and it seems like a bad idea." Jill thought this was really funny, so she put me saying it as her away message, which as we all recall was quite an honor in the world of AIM, so I felt pretty good about myself. That is until her mom sent her a message telling her how crass it was and asking her to take it down. I was so fucking embarrassed. And what's even more embarrassing is that her mom reads this blog. As do many other of my friend's moms, my mom and my mom's friends. Which I've decided to embrace. HI LADIES! SEND MARGOT GOOD ENERGY!
Got a question for Queer Abby? Email QueerAbby@2birds1blog.com! Amy will give you super sound advice and then I'll ramble incoherently about god knows what and make you feel better about your life in comparison. QueerAbby@2birds1blog.com!
Things are feeling oddly WOOO! SAD-TURNED-EMPOWERED SINGLE LADY! in here today. Thus, I leave you with Ex Co-Blogger Eddie's brief but potent First Wives Club Drinking Game!
[To be played with a bottle of Andre fine California Sparkling Wine.]
Take a sip of your drink (out of the bottle)…
- When a character takes a sip of their drink (alcoholic)
- When the word lesbian is used or lesbianism is referenced
- When someone says something to the effect of “this is the 90’s!”
- For every character on screen who is wearing pearls.
Shout l'chaim and drink...
- When Bar Mitzvahs or studying Hebrew is discussed/occurs (this was turned into when Judaism is mentioned…which turned into when a person who is Jewish is on the screen.) In conclusion drink when you see Bette Midler.
As per always, thank you so much for reading and especially for passing the blog on to your friends, family and co-workers. Should you feel so moved, you can always follow us on Twitter and join our Facebook page as well. Have a great weekend and we'll see you back here bright and early Monday morning! Later!