Thursday, February 18, 2016

True Life: I'm giving up Drunk Texting and OJ Simpson for Lent

Likely watching an OJ doc.
Lent.  Up until a year ago I thought it was just one vowel off from the shit you can find in your belly button. As time has gone on, however, I've learned that it's so much more than what I did with my sweater.  It's the commemoration of the period before Jesus H. Christ rose to heaven, I think.  It also signifies a time where one's self-control is put to the ultimate test; people typically abandon one or more of their vices for the 40 day duration of it.  Never one to not drunk text copy people, I've decided that I will jump on this Lent bandwagon, if only to feel less cold and alone.  Initially I wanted to give up small talk but can you believe it's finally raining?  We sure needed the rain.  Where are you from?

Behold my list of things I am going to say good-bye to in the name of the resurrection of Jesus Christ Lord Almighty the Greatest Lambchop ever in the world.  Or whatever.

1. Saying sorry.

I say I'm sorry a lot...even for the littlest things, like aggressively shoving someone out of the way as I'm trying to exit Muni.  I say I'm sorry for spilling scalding hot soup on my fellow Uberpool passenger. Sometimes I say I'm sorry for saying I'm sorry. The other day I sent an e-mail to a client and forgot to add the attachment.  This happens quite often, because I typically don't care enough about what I'm sending to be detail-oriented about it.  I quickly sent a follow-up email with the attachment and vehemently professed my shame for my blunder.  I asked for forgiveness and the client coolly replied "No worries."  It would have been so much cooler if I sent the attachment and said "Here it is.  I forgot to send it a few minutes ago.  Move the fuck on, Rhonda from HR."

2. Instagram.

I scroll through instagram more than Kanye West jerks off to a picture of Kanye West. Instagram has the power to give me FOMO, anxiety and major life-envy.  It's like with each photo I see of a giggly baby girl with a monogrammed bonnet sitting on a beach betwixt her mom and dad the more I feel behind in life. Especially when I'm sitting betwixt a king-sized bag of Nacho Cheesier Doritos and a bottle of buttery chard on a bean bag chair.  Giving up instagram will no doubt be harder for me than PeeWee Herman at an adult theater, but sometimes that's life.  I would give up Facebook as well, but then how would I promote this very post that you're reading?  Ah, the trials and tribulations of being my own pube-licist.

3.  Drunk texting.

I never thought at my age this would still be an issue but it is.  Waking up after a night out and realizing I didn't drunk text a guy makes me feel like galloping through a dewy field of daisies, flailing my arms and batting my eyelashes in jubilation. Ah, self control is a beautiful thing. 



4. OJ Simpson

The new show called the People VS OJ Simpson on FX has reignited my intense 20 year fascination with the OJ Simpson case.  In addition to watching the show I've taken it upon myself to watch every fucking documentary on the case known to man.  So yeah, I have an obsessive personality; I can't help it - that's just how I was born.  Said obsession has caused a rift between my mother and I and has made me miss out on fun social events.  I know more about the case than Judge Ito does. Hi, I'm Alexandra and I'm an OJ Simpson case-aholic.  (Hi Alexandra.)








 And, that's all I can think of for now.  Happy Thursday little worms!

xo,
Nige

Thursday, February 11, 2016

How to Cope with Being Cold and Alone on Valentine's Day

It’s almost hell on earth Valentine’s Day.  I’ve been made aware of this on a daily basis since mid-January by my mecca, Walgreens.  I typically escape my cube thrice a week and venture to Walgreens on Powell to snag up a bag of Haribo Gold Bears and other random items I don't need like condoms.  I try and avoid the blood-bath that is the Valentine’s Day aisle but it’s quite difficult I tell you.  Valentine’s Day has the power to make me feel like Ted Kaczyinski, trapped in a tiny little (figurative) cabin shrouded in gloom and hopelessness.  Only instead of bombs I am sending out desperate texts to my exes as I cower in my unmade bed strewn with pillows doused in mascara tears.  Like most things in life though, attitude has the power to make or break a person and Jesus H, I sound like a Nike commercial.  This year I refuse to spend the day knee deep in brownie mix, handicapped by Carpal Tunnel Syndrome as a result of sending those aforementioned drunk texts.  I refuse to bury my V-Day bitterness in boxes of greasy Chinese food, ash trays overflowing with half-smoked Parliament Lights and multiple bottles of Two-Buck Chuck as I avoid texts from my mom suggesting things like, “Al  - why don’t you just become a lesbian, you’re already in San Francisco – just do it!  Poor, poor girl.”  I am going to ignore the fact that in the span of 4 months my 3 best friends and sister found boyfriends and left me on the bench like those sad skewlgirls who don't get asked to dance.  No, this year is different: I am going to wake up, plaster a big, goofy fucking smile across my head, and face the day as a woman who’s happier than the Kardashians in the front row at the BET awards.
                                                            This is a lovely room of death.^^

How will I do this, you ask?  Easy, I am going to re-channel my negative energy into positive energy.  I am going to assure myself that life could be way, way worse.  For example: a few years back I spent Valentine’s Day with a celibate guy I’d been dating who liked to dry-hump.  Like, it was his thing.  All I got for V-Day that year was chafed.  Never underestimate the friction created by a sexually depraved man and brand new J Brand jeans.  I learned a lot from that experience.  I discovered how beautiful life can be when I’m not being dry-humped like an unfulfilled rag-doll -- and a rag-doll can’t really be unfulfilled because it’s an inanimate object and OH MY GOD THAT’S NOT THE POINT.  So, yeah – V-day will be a good day because god damnit, I won't be getting dry-humped.  Silver linings aplenty my friends.

But enough about me and my remarkably sordid past.  I have made a list of steps I am going to take to ensure I have a Valentine’s Day filled with love, in it’s many forms.   I hope this helps my fellow single babes.

1. Focus on the loves of your life; like your cell phone and Chipotle
You have your friends, your family and your pet(s) who give you unconditional love which is not just as valuable as romantic love.  Take the time to reach out to someone you love, like your beloved Aunt Edna who could just as easily be your Uncle Ed on account of her suspiciously pronounced Adam’s Apple, or your creepy older cousin named Gunther with the perpetual tick who always makes you sit on his lap.  Simply hearing the voice of a loved one will make you feel less cold, alone and starved for attention.  I love my family, and know they would answer my call any time, even though not one of them has acknowledged or confirmed my requests to make our precious relationships Facebook official.  And it's been a year and a half. They must not check facebook often.  Yeah, that’s it.


2. Explore your city. I am sure there is so much to love in it.  Unless you live in Newark or something.  In that case, I can’t help you.
I love the people in San Francisco, minus the entitled, dickhead techies and the trolls who leave nasty comments on my articles and are slowly darkening my soul and killing my faith in humanity.  We’ve got heterosexuals, dentists, homosexuals, crackheads, waiters, bisexuals, florists, transvestites, artists, writers, corporates, dry-humpers and dry-humpees. But seriously, there is love everywhere I turn in this enchanting town.   For the most part, I feel a sense of camaraderie with my fellow SF-ers even when I’m riding muni.  Just last year I put my foot up on the seat in front of me to stretch and my neighbor quickly followed suit.  It was like she really got me, and I didn’t have to say a word.


3. Marinate in your own company
The more time I spend with my vibrator alone with my thoughts the more I realize how fucked up they are how little I need someone around me to feel fulfilled.  Take a walk outside, write in your journal or go see a therapist a movie.  Bask in your alone time and take solace in the fact that you can do whatever the fuck you want, when you want and how you want.  Feel like curling up on your tattered bean bag chair with Ben&Jerry's Rocky Road being administered to your system intravenously while you watch episodes of Rock of Love Season 2 and sift through your split ends?  Do it.  

4. Sharing a bed with someone can be about as cool as a pap smear

Having a bed all to yourself can be nicer than Mr. Rogers.  Sharing a bed would make inflicting serious bodily injuries on someone much more probable given my severe case of Restless Leg Syndrome.  So, for me, being single is actually contributing to the greater good of the human race because I'm not hurting anyone, and I very well could.  Ah, it feels good to give back.

5. You have a choice

The notion that you decide whether or not you're going to be happy on Valentine's day (and in life) is very comforting.  Lately I have been waking up in the morning and reminding myself of the fact that I have really bad bed head  a choice - I can make it a good day, or I can make it a royally shitty one.. I choose my thoughts, I choose my happiness and I choose who I let dry-hump me.  

And now I feel like Tony Robbins.  


Enjoy love day, my fellow freaks.


xo,

Nige 


Thursday, February 4, 2016

A Letter to My Critic

I write a lot.  Some of it's okay, some of it's shit.  But the thing is…I never stop writing.  It's important to me.  Therapeutic, even - especially when I have a shitty day at work, when I'm hungover, when I come across an asshole who makes me feel bad or if I have a gnarly hangnail.  Humor is just as important to me as writing.  I like pulling pranks, telling jokes and watching funny movies.  So when I combine humor and writing (mostly about life's hang ups) I can come off as crass, snarky and at times, sad - I guess.  Lately I've tapped into writing about more serious issues which has given my writing new dimensions.  I've broadened my horizons beyond using the word "shart" every 8th word and that feels good.

After 5 years of consistently writing I am finally getting published. Last week I received my first check for a couple articles I wrote for an SF online publication.  It certainly wasn't a lot of money, but it felt fucking great.  I was happy to finally get some tangible recognition for something that I really love to do.

But, like most things in life; things haven't been all daisies and dildos...

The other day my parents' friend took it upon herself to comment on an article I'd written for Broke-Ass Stuart... and since she took the time to address some issues she has with me on a public forum, I will return the favor by addressing her concerns. Only I will be nice enough to blur out her name and face because tact.



Ah, where do I start?  First of all, thank you for taking such an active, analytical interest in my life!  I am flattered.  I appreciate your telling me (someone you've never met) that I need to relocate; pack up 8 years worth of things and hop a plane back east - which would entail quitting my job, finding a new one, getting a car, finding an apartment, making new friends and basically uprooting my entire life.  Also, the "east coast" is pretty general; which cities should I consider?  Or should I look at towns instead?  I truly value your opinion on this, and I'm going to start looking into U-Hauls and plane tickets ASAP.  

In terms of my values (I'm glad you brought that up)...I'll take this opportunity to tell you what I find valuable:

- the opinions of others, especially if said opinions will be helpful and insightful.  I do not value condescending opinions belonging to people whose intent is to preach to me about my life, and undermine my writing
- my family
- my friends
- writing 
- being kind, accepting and never judging anyone based on the way they choose to live
- animals, mostly dogs
- laughing

As far as "fun and conduct" - I will assert that I've had no shortage of fun in my life.  Sure, sometimes I have too much fun when I go out, but that's something I am working on.  As for the way I conduct myself, I have enough sense not to look down at someone shamefully from my narrow-minded ivory tower based on my own, ill-informed interpretation of his/her life.  Wait, can ivory towers be narrow-minded?  I don't think so because towers are inanimate objects and OH MY GOD this isn't the point. And now I'm confused.

Also, thank you for complimenting my facebook pictures.  But - hey, here's the thing about pictures on facebook: they're surface-level, they're deceiving, they're just pictures.  According to my facebook pictures I'm happier than a pig in shit.  Yes, I am happy sometimes but sometimes I'm not - that's what life is.  Trying to live up to your "facebook pictures/posts" ALL THE TIME is an almost impenetrable feat. 

Thank you for calling my "stories" fun!  I try and make people feel good.  I am sorry you think they are also "so, so sad" but I challenge you to show me someone who exposes their innermost thoughts for all to see and doesn't sometimes reveal hardships/challenges and I will show you a liar.  Also, you're the first person who has tried to make me feel wrong for being real - thank you...you know what they say, "you always remember your first."  

I would like to commend you for bringing up my "soul" - that's a bold move, considering you've never met me and someone's "soul" is a pretty intimate part of them.  But, you have my happiness in mind - so it's all good. Thank you. 

Oh, I wanted to ask you: who is Alexandria, and why are you worried about her?  I hope she is okay.  

We have things in common!  We both love my sister.  And - we both love my parents.  Guess what, my parents love me too - they love me for who I am and would never deign to ridicule me for something I love to do.  You know what my Dad and I do when I am home on vacation?  We eat Smartfood popcorn, drink Stellas, watch Planes Trains and Automobiles and tell each other OJ Simpson jokes.  I am 100% myself around my parents, and they are proud of me and my writing.  I know this because they tell me, at least twice a week. 

I am thankful you've made me aware of this "better life" out there - I will definitely REACH OUT and try to find it.  Can you give me some numbers to call?  Who do I reach out to?  That part you left out!  Don't leave me hanging.. :(

Lastly, since you've so kindly given me unsolicited advice I would like to offer this to you:

link to ASPCA's donation page! 

You can donate anywhere from $5 to $500 to animals in need!  It will probably take you as long to do this as it did for you to write that nonsensical comment on my facebook wall - but here's the catch, it will be 4 times as constructive/helpful and 50 times as nice.

Have a good day, and thanks for the material.. I had run out of things to write about this week.  :)

xo






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