slayed!

i’ve been on somewhat of a downward spiral lately, mainly related to my excessive viewing of buffy the vampire slayer. i sort of love it, to be honest. it isn’t the greatest great show, okay, but it has a lot of redeeming qualities. it’s funny, creepy, has quick dialogue and buffy is a totally awesome teenage girl character. she makes that stupid bella chick from twilight look like a styrofoam cup.

the show makes me wish i had capitalized on the 90’s better. i did wear baggy overalls, like a champion, i’ll give myself that, but my hair was always very short and i didn’t watch tv.

anyway, the world is so much more emo now, but by emo i mean “emo” as in everything is tragic and everyone is on the brink of extinction but we are just totally ironic about it. kurt cobain was not ironic! he was sad!

i’m not making much sense. i had a couple whiskey gingers last night because it was muggy like the bayou and my friends/editors of my book matt and marisa have the audacity to have birthdays and also move away. it’s sick i know. the east coast. the good news is i guess this is another reason for me to go to the east coast. maybe do a reading in new york when my book comes out? maybe quit my job and just go on a national, out-of-control book tour? anyone want to fund that? and pay for my student loans? it could be like one of those craigs list “arrangements” except no sex or dates or seeing each other. okay, i would go out to dinner with my benefactor, fill him/her in on what his/her money was paying for, the art it was making.

anyway, after listening to an old interview with some lady who is married to michael chabon on fresh air yesterday (yes i have suddenly reverted to supreme sexism and identifying women only by their spouses and children) i decided maybe i am mentally ill. i only say this because this lady was saying that basically if you have a blog or are a writer or over-share at all you are probably bipolar. by that definition, i am definitely bipolar. my dad did say, when i presented him with this evidence, that that lady was probably very, very rich and very, very rich types can say whatever they want and diagnosis themselves with anything without consequences.

which is true. though last night at this birthday/going-away party i did keep over sharing about my youthful visit to courtney love’s mom for therapy when she told me, at the end, that i was okay i just “feel things more strongly than other people”.

holy shit it is 70 degrees outside. which is where i am i going.

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