aaahhh!

ok, so i went around saying that my bad haircut was not such a big deal when i first got it and that people who worry too much about their hair are assholes. well, i'm here today to say that the hideousness of my hair has severely decreased the quality of my life these past weeks. that's all. not going to go on and on about it.

after a hellish bout of work, i took the weekend off. not really. my BF's family is in town, so i cleaned and hung out with them some. actually the only time i had to myself i spent walking the dog, like six hour walk, and am now exhausted. i think i have manic episodes. i think i have been having them since high school. i could not sit still on saturday. had to walk it off. i want a professional massage. too bad i hate it when strangers touch me. i just want to read actually. actually it's been so long since i've had time to myself i don't know what to do with myself anymore. i don't know what i like to do. maybe i don't even like reading any more. maybe i have become a jock and don't even know it yet. maybe i should join one of those soccer teams that play in central park on the weekends. when i was a kid i used to sit down in the backfield when we had to play socccer for P.E. i got a "D" in P.E. once.

today

i have a migraine. i get them a lot. i am probably being punished by god for not believing in her. not even lying down in the dark with an ice pack makes it go away. only killing myself will. this is how i can understand people who are suicidal. anyways. it's not going to stop me from blogging!

what *is* daunting, however, is the command "create" i have to click when i blog. why can't it say "jot"?

working

hate to be so fascinating, but: here i am at work again! what can i tell you? well, to ease the pain a little bit, i brought my dog with me. and i wore short shorts. i also had a pedicure first, at a place where you sit in a massage chair while they do it. i am contemplating taking my last xanax, too. or maybe i'll just off myself. dead people don't have to work.

(don't worry, i'm not really going to kill myself, i swear to god! i hate people who threaten suicide unless it's for absolute real. hate them. because don't they know about the boy who cried wolf? i always take it very seriously when people say they're going to kill themselves, unless they do what i'm doing right now, which is saying i promise that i'm not.)

update

just in case anyone was worried, they didnt make me change it. but i did edit out a line that had the n-word in it of my own accord. i just dont want that shit in my show, even if it's bleeped. and even if someone who is black said it. i know it doesnt make sense, but it's almost like i'm saying it if i leave it in, i feel like.

my job

i have spent all day cutting a montage to a rap song full of curses. they're gonna make me change it, i know, and then i'll have to work all weekend. i'm a masochist, i guess. who knew? actually, it's that i never know what time it is or how long it takes me to do anything, so i'm cutting away, and all of a sudden it's eight o'clock and there are curse words everywhere. i wish there was a little less facism in my life. or maybe a lot less. or maybe just a lot less work. or maybe more brain power on my part. or maybe just some chocolate.

why reading is good

jonathan franzen, in an otherwise silly and contorted article in the new yorker that attempts to relate the history of his love life to the history of environmentalism in the US, just provided me with an astonishing insight into decades of difficulty in my relationship with my father. he brings up--somehow the convoluted thinking leads to this--his father's scandanavian protestant midwestern values of unselfishness, industry, austerity and honesty. he has adopted these values--voluntarily or not--he doesn't say--much as i have adopted a similar set of values from my father, who is from a similar background. the problem is, he cleverly points out, that midwestern scandanavian etc. people do not value individualism, which franzen and i do--or maybe must, being the freaks that we are. franzen is absolutely right. that's why his dad doesn't approve of him and why mine doesn't approve of me, altogether. we stand out in a crowd, or maybe we try to, or maybe we just don't try hard enough to blend in. my dad blends. i had always thought that i had acquired all of my values from my dad, but i guess i had always confused his enthusiastic approval of independence, being the good oklahoman from cowboy country he is, with an appreciation for individualism. it is important to note: independent living does not necessarily equal independent thinking. hmm!

don't get me wrong, my dad is not a boring sheep. he just disapproves of flamboyance, naval-gazing and self absorption. or anything close to things like that in the spectrum of decency. like blogs about yourself and your thoughts probably.

hair

i can't decide if it's more or less vain to cut your own hair all the time.

test

i am practicing linking like my friend, karol, told me. she is practically a professional blogger.

my friend jessica's blog is also good.

confession

i feel like this blog is not confessional enough. i've forgotten who all i've given this URL to, so i'm making sure everything's not offensive to anyone i know, even my parents, even though i know i haven't even told them i have a blog. i'm 34. i shouldn't even care what my parents know or don't know. oh yeah, i'm 35. anyway. i do some things i wouldn't want my parents to know about, but i wouldn't care if anyone else knew, but i still don't write about those things here.

but i have to confess:

i don't know anything about hip hop or rap, or whatever. i realize that it is impossible to be cool if you don't, so that's why i've always hidden how ignorant i am on the topic. i haven't exacly lied about it, but i haven't ever volunteered this info. so here it is. i am officially not cool at all.

i made this confession in the interest of making this blog less andy-rooney-like, but have only succeeded in making it rather more andy-rooney-like really. which is something andy rooney would totally do.

i am going to go cut my hair now. i got this terrible haircut a couple weeks ago; it's a mullet; it's definitely a mullet. what was she thinking?! but if i cut off the long hair in the back (the "party" part of "business in the front, party in the back"), it won't be a mullet anymore. i can't have a mullet and be andy rooney both at the same time. that would just be too much. plus my boyfriend is teaching me about rap. wish me luck.

dogs

1. you know what? if you have a vicious dog, say so *before* my dog starts going up to your dog; don't yell at me as if i shouldn't have let her get near your dog in the first place. most people let their dogs say hello to each other. do you realize that? i am not going to curtail my dog's social life because a few dogs are vicious. and, actually, my dog can tell if your dog will be mean to her better than you can. she can smell it. and anyway everyone loves her. even vicious dogs.

2. (not about dogs, but "dogs" is a good heading anyway. i like dogs.) put *look at me* on your netflix queue. it's about a girl whose dad is a famous writer, and in france, where it's set, you can be rich and a celebrity if you're a writer. he doesn't pay enough attention to her. and she is preparing to sing in a performance at a church in the town of her country house. he has writer's block. uch, it's a french movie; you can't just write a paragraph about what it's about. (that's one of the reasons i like french movies. also i'm a shameless francophile.) it's interesting to be able to watch the deleted scenes on the dvd; it makes it more obvious what the filmmakers were trying to focus. also interesting: the "making of" documentary on the disc doesn't really show agnes jaoui directing. weird. is it because she is a woman?

reviews:
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/look_at_me/

sorry i can't seem to make the link command work. little help?

cooking show

i have been working thirteen hour days for weeks now, and will work this weekend. maybe it will be worth it when i have an apartment that's big enough to have dinner parties in. it's going to be a reality show. it'll start at the farmer's market and show me cooking and giving a cooking lesson and people arriving and having cocktails and eating and leaving and me gossipping about them maybe when they leave while i'm doing the dishes. i am a good cook with a lot to say about cooking, and my boyfriend will say a lot about the cocktails and wine, and i know a lot of interesting people. good idea, huh? now back to work.

peter jennings

i just heard alan alda say on the tv that peter jennings carried around a portable copy of the constitution around with him in his pocket and that now he's gonna start doing that too. for some reason it would make me distrust someone more to know that they did that, not the opposite. it's like they're protesting too much. and plus, as my dad would say, gag-a-maggot. i mean i love the constitution and all, but i don't often find myself in situations in which i need to check it. and if i ever were in such a situation i would err grossly on the civil rights side and wouldn't need to check on precisely how much i could get away with. but it sucks he had lung cancer and everything. i quit smoking a year and a half ago. i hope i don't get it. should i feel bad that that's the first thing i think whenever anyone starts talking about peter jennings? which they are a bit too much lately, don't you think? i mean, poor guy, but still.

sorry

that last post sounded like andy rooney on estrogen, i know.