i read this on someone else's blog -the name of which i cannot remember- and i thought it was a cool way for all y'all to get to know me a little better...
i may not get 100 on the first go-round, especially because i am fucking tired and i want them to be good things, but i promise that there WILL be 100...eventually
1. my dad was born in kingston jamaica
2. my favourite word in the english language is fuck. i use it a lot but try to balance out it's use by using big/difficult words when appropriate
3. i believe completely in the existence of ghosts
4. my favourite colour is orange. well, it is right now but it changes a lot.
5. my first kiss was at summer camp with a french-canadian boy named etienne...to this day i still love the french canadians
6. jewish boys make "my vagina explode!"*
7. my favourite school novel study book was "the wars" by timothy findley
8. i have an honours degree in theatre and i work (barely) as a secretary (barely)
9. my lack of computer knowledge is shameful for a member of my generation
10. i am really mad that no one besides clint eastwood ever wins oscars
11. if forced to choose would rather fuck christina aguilara than britney spears
12. i was 13 the first time i fell in love. i'm now getting over love #3
13. my favourite colour of eyeshadow is made by m*a*c and is called "trax"...it's really good for workin' the heroine chic look
14. i am WAY too fat to pull of heroine chic
15. i alienate people with the volume at which i speak
16. the best concert i ever saw in my life was 'bright eyes' at the commodore ballroom (in vancouver) on october 18, 2004
17. i got my first cd player in the early 90s and the first cd i bought was by soul asylum. i wish i still had that album
18. i would've had sex with any one of the five backstreet boys if it meant i could have been on oprah
19. i saw one of my favourite actors (callum keith rennie...aka: billy fucking tallent) while i was on my way to play last summer and didn't have the testes to talk to him...i did almost trip, however
20. on my 20th birthday over 3000 people died. (wow, to see that in writing puts shit in perspective...)
21. i love using and being any number of ridiculous cliches
22. i wish my hair was straight so i could properly pull of an ironic angular haircut.
23. i have beautiful penmanship except i don't really like the way i write the letter 'a'...i'm working on new styles all the time so maybe something cool will come of it.
24. i find it difficult to type with my wrist bandaged (from tattooing)
25. i tried to try and kill myself once when i was 14 with a razor...not a razor blade but one of those disposable kinds...it didn't work to well and i was really happy. i was never good at those cries for help.
26. i saw a girl on the street with new pink hair (and consequently a pink face) and it made me a little nostalgic...or a lot nostalgic...for the days when i was dying my face pink.
27. on the stereo beside my computer sits a purple duck with devil ears being shadowed from the sun by a red paper umbrella. he is always comfortable
28. there is a point in conversation where all things have been said on a topic and my immediate response at that second is to say, 'fuck it!' and ramble incoherantly until the subject has changed.
29. right now my hair is black and short and often accesorized with a green bow.
30. i would like to kiss a boy who was VERY tall so i have to stand on my tiptoes or someone who my exact height.
31. currently my bed is covered with dark lavendar jersey cotton sheets
32. i have listened to NOTHING but tom waits for the past three days and will probably listen to nothing but tom waits for the next three days
33. i tend not to generalize about myself but make sweeping and crass generalizations about other people and/or situations...nothing derogatory but sweeping and crass nonetheless
34. my favourite puntuation is the ellipse...which i over- and mis-use at will
35. i have some issues with my digestive system: i am lactose intolerant and suffer mildly from irritable bowel syndrom. these conditions are made worse by my body's sadistic desire to menstruate.
36. i get school girl crushes really easily and usually have 5 or 6 at a time and no one is safe. this evening is no exception
37. i just, like JUST, punched my sister in the face by total accident
38. as much as i want someone to tell me i am beautiful, more than anything i want someone to tell me that i am smart and that my intellegence is the reason they love me
39. i want to be with someone who is able to cover me completely with his arms. i want someone whom i can disappear into...if only metaphorically...
40. i once went on a date with a guy from a chat room because he told me i had nice legs. we saw 'the rock' and i have never been able to look at nicolas cage in the same way.
42. the last guy i fooled around with had 2 genital piercings
43. i once contemplated a clit piercing but realised that i couldn't handle the actual process...
44. (here's a pretentious one...): in the end i hope that the theatre i make serves to somehow work against the constant stream of crap flooding the market. i wanna fuck shit up, be loud, and have people want to see what i do instead of the same old shit that happens everywhere
45. i want to publish 'the fanclub' someday as a REAL magazine...i want to take it out onto the streets where it belongs...(hee hee...sooo nerdy!)
46. i can think of 4 or 5 people that i would PAY to have sex with
47. i can think of 4 or 5 people from whom i would accept money for sex
48. i should be crowned queen of procrastinators...for example, right now i should be writing a press release
49. there's this guy named brian and he is: a) the hottest man on the east coast; b) the man who pierced my nose and; c) an original dc punk kid!
http://www.jinxprooftattoos.com/jpdirtyb.htm the tattoos on his scalp are especially sexy!! and an interesting side note for all you music fans out there: this is the shop where the twin geniuses (*sarcasm*) behind good charlotte have gotten most of their tattoos and piercings done.
50. i'd PAY to have sex with brian!
51. i am obessesed with what people are willing to do when protected by anonymity
52. if i haven't been to bed my favourite time of the day is just before the sun rises...it's at that moment that you are 100% sure you made it through and you can probably do it again.
53. i love looking in the mirror immediately after having an orgasm
54. i have never experienced 'deafening pleasure'
55. if i could move anywhere tomorrow it would be chicago...i haven't been EVERYWHERE obviously, but i'd go there...
56. i never have naked toenails
57. unexpected emails from old friends always make me smile
58. my favourite candy is mike and ike's hot tomalies
59. my favourite spice is cinamonon
60. i crashed my car this morning
61. i can't remember my natural hair colour.
62. i have never SERIOUSLY propositioned anyone for sex
63. no boy has ever been given flowers
64. my mom gives me a piece of jewelry every time i open a show
65. i often wonder what life would be like if i just ran away tomorrow and never looked back
66. i think if i were a boy i think i would get into a lot of fights
64. my choice to get tattooed has nothing to do with the fact that i am a girl. this is one occassion where i am not making a political statement
65. i once read an article about DIY pelvic exams. i am still not sure if this is very wise and i would never have my friends over for a pelvic exam party...what do you put on the invitation? "please arrive promptly at 6:45pm. don't forget the banana bread and your speculum. lubricant will be provided..." seriously...??
66. i keep a journal with lists upon lists of albums and artists i need to hear
67. i've often wondered what bourgenvilla dreams would be like
68. i am not sure that i want to get married but i am sure i would like to find someone to spend a large chunk of my life with
69. i frequently tell people what my bra looks like and often whip out a little strap just to prove that i am telling the truth
70. when i was 15 i wished that i had enough fashion sense to really fit in at school
71. my favourite sweater and i have been together since grade 8...she came to me during an intense "i wish i was kurt cobain so i'll dress like him" phase. we still hang out and she's kept up with all the phases my 'fashion' sense has gone through
72. my favourite chapstick is 'burt's bees'. i prefer it in the tube because the metal pots rust.
73. i rarely wear lipstick and if i do it's rock-a-billy red and ONLY rock-a-billy red!
74. i bite my nails
75. immediately to my left are the following three items: a keyboard resting up against the wall; an old teddy bear in a snuggly and; a whistle on a string. i have blown that whistle a total of five times
76. i am right-handed
77. my favourite kind of crass jokes are jesus jokes.
Q: why was jesus crucified?
A: because he forgot the 'safe' word...
78. my bedspread glows in the dark
79. the last album i bought was the 'we will become silouettes' single by the postal service.
80. if i had a penis for a day i would not immediately get a blow job. i would go record shopping, pee standing up, jerk off and then get a blow job...in that order!
81. i spent a good 2 hours trying to fit 14guage earrings in my regular sized ears (bad idea). it bothers me that none of my earrings match.
82. i am going to be a maid of honour this summer. there is a lot of pressure
83. i love lending things to friends because when they come back to me they always smell like they have been somewhere special
84. ideally, i would meet one new person per day
85. the name of my blog comes from the song 'fifteen feet of pure white snow' by nick cave and the bad seeds
86. it frustrates me when parents belittle their children in public
87. i find bathing suit shopping and auditioning to be the two most demoralising things one can experience...the difference? i like auditioning but have been wearing the same bathing suit for at least seven or eight years
88. 88 is my favourite number.
89. i own 7 belts but only wear one.
90. i am both excited and worried that it has been almost six years since i finished high school
91. i still have lunch with my high school english teacher
92. i am intensely intimidated by a room full of 14 year old girls
93. http://profiles.myspace.com/users/14827613
94. i have never had a real pet...well, i suppose fish count as real pets so i should say i have never had a pet that i could pet
95. my mother refers, disapprovingly, to vibrators as "a device"
96. a friend of mine once, out of the blue, gave me a social distortion button simply because he knew i liked them and thought of me when he saw it. that is one of my favourite gifts
97. i put a lot of thought into selecting greeting cards for people. i feel guilty if i don't
98. i love making and recieving mixed tapes/cd's for people...actually, i wish people still had tape players so i could make a cassette...you can make me a tape if you want
99. i do NOT forsee myself ever owning an ipod
100. my favourite kind of lotion is the unscented kind that makes your hands so slippery that you can't even open the door.
and for good measure...
101. i DO NOT find chivalry misogynistic
102. i am horrendous with grammer. i have particular trouble with tense agreement
103. i would rather smoke pot then drink but i drink far more than i smoke pot
104. i always have trouble spelling the word rhyme
there...i did it! and i went a little over. that was fun!! hard but fun...for those of you that know me you should add to my list...things you know about me that maybe i don't...just out of curiousity y'know...but you don't have to...it's only an idea.
for future reference:
first kick at the cat was 1:17am on march 1, 2005 (1-22)
attempt #2: 6:41pm on march 1, 2005 (23-26)
attempt #3: 1:37am on march 2, 2005 (27-36)
attempt #4: 12:17am on march 4, 2005 (37-50)
attempt #5 and completion: 12:29am on march 8, 2005 (51-104)
xo alice.
*expression stolen from www.ultragrrrl.com
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Monday, March 07, 2005
apologies for allowing real life to interfere with the press release...i'll get right on it
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...does it start to loose it's meaning after multiple uses? i sure as fuck hope not. so i wanted to tell this little story of my terribly shitty day in some sort of narrative form to perhaps either lighten up on the agression level or to avoid painting myself as some raging fucking psychopath...IM-FUCKING-POSSIBLE at this juncture...i'm not a psycho nor am i overly aggressive but forgive me these temporary flaws as i recover from my newly fucking fixed car slamming into a fucking cement medium due to nothing more than some fucking overnight freezing...jesus fucking christ people...am i made out of fucking money? is it pouring from ass...no, money isn't pouring from my ass but the sense of something pouring from my ass is sure pervasive right now...call me crass but fuck! the further into debt i get the further away any semblance of an adult life appears. this is just the fucking straw y'know......and ok, i recognize that in the grande scheme of it all this isn't a big deal...i wasn't hurt, my passenger wasn't hurt...there are people who can't afford cars...guess what...I can't afford a car either...it wasn't fucking mine!! money and the loss of it is a big fucking deal when you don't have any...fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
oh, and my humblest apologies for not having time to write that press release. i will try to get on it tomorrow when real life appears to be once again on the backburner...
xo alice.
oh, and my humblest apologies for not having time to write that press release. i will try to get on it tomorrow when real life appears to be once again on the backburner...
xo alice.
please allow me to drool for just a few seconds...
alrights kids...
i went to this uber-hip coffee shop/bar this evening with dishonorable intentions...
i knew that my sexy radio dj crush with an even sexier jewish name would be there as the uber-hip coffee shop/bar dj...
he's so hot...*drool* and playing some kick ass tunage...*double drool*
oh and i have a new myspace friend who has sent me the following two comments:
Mar 6, 2005 01:29 AM
*gasp* local, intrigueing, and the refused link....hrm maybe im in love or quite possibly someone slipped a roofie in my late night slurpee and im bound for a sweaty bender in the middle of the night, either way you seem fun ... *swoon and blush*
to which i responded...
Mar 6, 2005 05:39 PM
*blush*...no one has ever called me local before...late night slurpies and roofies will do that to you...or maybe you are in love or i am in love, we may never know...either way i AM fun...go figure. you seem fun too...or at least tattooed which can, in certain circumstances, negate the necessity for a person to be fun...or even remotely interesting...but i am sure that is not the case with either of us...
and he wrote back...
Mar 6, 2005 08:02 PM
oh the flattery *double swoon*...and i must admit the source of my life force permiates from these very tattoos, they define me ....*l* no they dont its just some cheesy pointless shit to impress the girls and make me seem ever so hardcore....wait its ok ill fit just in i just need plugs some womens jeans and a penchant for screaming melodicless tunes...and an emo name like..."heart may fail" or "last breath breathing" or even "tommorrows dying".....see a formula that works...so yes tell me more, im starved for interesting women...especially ones with cartoon profile pics, over and out .captain tattoo's xoxoxoxoxox
so yeah...hot right...and he does have some super hot tattoos...
and ok...i'm a fuckin' nerd...i have accepted it and so should you. move on!
xo alice.
i went to this uber-hip coffee shop/bar this evening with dishonorable intentions...
i knew that my sexy radio dj crush with an even sexier jewish name would be there as the uber-hip coffee shop/bar dj...
he's so hot...*drool* and playing some kick ass tunage...*double drool*
oh and i have a new myspace friend who has sent me the following two comments:
Mar 6, 2005 01:29 AM
*gasp* local, intrigueing, and the refused link....hrm maybe im in love or quite possibly someone slipped a roofie in my late night slurpee and im bound for a sweaty bender in the middle of the night, either way you seem fun ... *swoon and blush*
to which i responded...
Mar 6, 2005 05:39 PM
*blush*...no one has ever called me local before...late night slurpies and roofies will do that to you...or maybe you are in love or i am in love, we may never know...either way i AM fun...go figure. you seem fun too...or at least tattooed which can, in certain circumstances, negate the necessity for a person to be fun...or even remotely interesting...but i am sure that is not the case with either of us...
and he wrote back...
Mar 6, 2005 08:02 PM
oh the flattery *double swoon*...and i must admit the source of my life force permiates from these very tattoos, they define me ....*l* no they dont its just some cheesy pointless shit to impress the girls and make me seem ever so hardcore....wait its ok ill fit just in i just need plugs some womens jeans and a penchant for screaming melodicless tunes...and an emo name like..."heart may fail" or "last breath breathing" or even "tommorrows dying".....see a formula that works...so yes tell me more, im starved for interesting women...especially ones with cartoon profile pics, over and out .captain tattoo's xoxoxoxoxox
so yeah...hot right...and he does have some super hot tattoos...
and ok...i'm a fuckin' nerd...i have accepted it and so should you. move on!
xo alice.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
fight directors are pure sex, baby!
last night at our rehearsal the FIGHT DIRECTOR came in...
now, he was not an exceptionally amazingly hot guy but as soon as he started to throw himself around the room, demonstrate the proper body position for a punch and thrust his taught ass into the air i was done...
my vagina, as they say, EXPLODED...
generally, i am opposed to violence. i'm just not a fan of people being hurt...in real life. (i'm all for movie violence...) and i guess that's what made it so hot. you know it's fake but you've got your own real-live fight club in the room...
it's just SOOO fuckin' masculine. i think i need that every once and a while to counteract my frequent crushing on art nerds and the like...or maybe violence is just hot!
(also, he was really flexible...)
in the end i hope his wife appreciates how much i wanna fuck her husband and we all sleep well.
xo alice.
now, he was not an exceptionally amazingly hot guy but as soon as he started to throw himself around the room, demonstrate the proper body position for a punch and thrust his taught ass into the air i was done...
my vagina, as they say, EXPLODED...
generally, i am opposed to violence. i'm just not a fan of people being hurt...in real life. (i'm all for movie violence...) and i guess that's what made it so hot. you know it's fake but you've got your own real-live fight club in the room...
it's just SOOO fuckin' masculine. i think i need that every once and a while to counteract my frequent crushing on art nerds and the like...or maybe violence is just hot!
(also, he was really flexible...)
in the end i hope his wife appreciates how much i wanna fuck her husband and we all sleep well.
xo alice.
the tattoo saga pt. 5
well kiddos,
i got inked today! yeah...sweet, sweet pain overcame my body and it made me smile...
i just got a few little touch ups on my thigh and on my wrist but it wasn't enough. i want more!!
the weird thing is...i was pretty set on NOT having michelle do my sleeve but truth be told i love her...we chat and her work is fuckin' good. i saw some of the stuff she's done recently and she's good...better than i remember...and this past weekend she took a second place award for 'medium colour' at the calgary international tattoo convention...and besides all that, it's not like the tattoos i have right now are really hard to do so that isn't a fair estimation...and, when i left she gave me a big giant hug and told me she'd love to do some set design/scene painting for me...for FREE...if i ever need her...
anyhow, the saga continues...i am feeling pretty good about it all right now...want something else though...soon. maybe a little back work! we'll see what inspires over the next little while.
xo alice.
i got inked today! yeah...sweet, sweet pain overcame my body and it made me smile...
i just got a few little touch ups on my thigh and on my wrist but it wasn't enough. i want more!!
the weird thing is...i was pretty set on NOT having michelle do my sleeve but truth be told i love her...we chat and her work is fuckin' good. i saw some of the stuff she's done recently and she's good...better than i remember...and this past weekend she took a second place award for 'medium colour' at the calgary international tattoo convention...and besides all that, it's not like the tattoos i have right now are really hard to do so that isn't a fair estimation...and, when i left she gave me a big giant hug and told me she'd love to do some set design/scene painting for me...for FREE...if i ever need her...
anyhow, the saga continues...i am feeling pretty good about it all right now...want something else though...soon. maybe a little back work! we'll see what inspires over the next little while.
xo alice.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
is this true?
"...it is yet another venue for starting those precious fake internet friendships that, in a city this size, lead to numerous awkward conversations about how you know each other on the internerd. these conversations are usually followed by making shifty eyed smalltalk as you both recall the soul-baring you have done on myspace/friendster/indecline/whatever, back when it felt like you were sort of anonymous..."
i read this on the internet. is it true?
good goddamn i hope not...or i shouldn't say, 'i hope not...'...i am just not a big fan of 'shifty eyed smalltalk' and i have a GIANT crush on one of my myspace friends...he's on the radio...yeah...
yipes!
xo alice.
i read this on the internet. is it true?
good goddamn i hope not...or i shouldn't say, 'i hope not...'...i am just not a big fan of 'shifty eyed smalltalk' and i have a GIANT crush on one of my myspace friends...he's on the radio...yeah...
yipes!
xo alice.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
rebellion is annoying
ok, don't get me wrong...i am all for rebellion...in fact, i fucking love it.
when i hate it is when my body rebels against me and makes me sick!
fuck my body!
fuck my sore throat!
fuck my runny nose!
fuck my missing voice!
fuck not having any energy!
fuck you body!
ok, that was a bit militant...and i know i said fuck way too many times but i hate being sick...
...and i was hoping to have some chicken soup fedexed from fort mac but that seems to no longer be an option...
damn!
fuck it!
xo alice.
when i hate it is when my body rebels against me and makes me sick!
fuck my body!
fuck my sore throat!
fuck my runny nose!
fuck my missing voice!
fuck not having any energy!
fuck you body!
ok, that was a bit militant...and i know i said fuck way too many times but i hate being sick...
...and i was hoping to have some chicken soup fedexed from fort mac but that seems to no longer be an option...
damn!
fuck it!
xo alice.
the tattoo saga pt. 4
so, it continues...
i went to ink machine this afternoon to meet with danny and lemme tell you...i am pumped! we had a good chat about what i want and how he'll be able to do that. we had an intense discussion about shading and how to keep it looking good and dynamic as it ages...it was cool. he asked if i wanted the angel in-flight or just about to take off...the difference being in her torso and legs: because if she was in-flight her legs might be kind of droopy and fairylike and if she was about to take off they would be a lot more grounded...i opted for grounded...
...the more we talked the more excited i got and from what i hear danny is the one of the BEST tattoo artists in western canada (which is awesome...) and probably the best in edmonton. the only two drawbacks to going to the best is that it's a bit more expensive ($125/hr. compared to $100/hr at ritualistics) and it takes forever to get an appointment...like late summer/early fall...c'est la vie!
i was thinking about getting something else done in the meantime by michelle at ritualistics but there really isn't anything i want...although, michelle has got this new black light (hot pink) sensitive pigment in so i may get her to do some stars on my hand after the wedding...or before, we'll see...just because hot pink/black light sensitive tattoos would be fuckin' rad.
on the upside of waiting for danny...not only is he good but he's also pretty fucking gorgeous...looks a bit like johnny depp to be honest...very similar features and build...
oh, and apprentice boy was there and not wearing a hoodie this time...nope, tight hot (but not cheesy) t-shirt and damn!...so sexy!!
anyhow, the saga continues...i am getting touched up on the first so i'll have something to add then and maybe we'll see about the stars then... and there will be some piercing before as well...
go body modification...bring on the needles!
xo alice.
p.s. wanna see how fucking amazing danny's work is...go to http://inkmachinetattoo.com/mainframeset.htm
i went to ink machine this afternoon to meet with danny and lemme tell you...i am pumped! we had a good chat about what i want and how he'll be able to do that. we had an intense discussion about shading and how to keep it looking good and dynamic as it ages...it was cool. he asked if i wanted the angel in-flight or just about to take off...the difference being in her torso and legs: because if she was in-flight her legs might be kind of droopy and fairylike and if she was about to take off they would be a lot more grounded...i opted for grounded...
...the more we talked the more excited i got and from what i hear danny is the one of the BEST tattoo artists in western canada (which is awesome...) and probably the best in edmonton. the only two drawbacks to going to the best is that it's a bit more expensive ($125/hr. compared to $100/hr at ritualistics) and it takes forever to get an appointment...like late summer/early fall...c'est la vie!
i was thinking about getting something else done in the meantime by michelle at ritualistics but there really isn't anything i want...although, michelle has got this new black light (hot pink) sensitive pigment in so i may get her to do some stars on my hand after the wedding...or before, we'll see...just because hot pink/black light sensitive tattoos would be fuckin' rad.
on the upside of waiting for danny...not only is he good but he's also pretty fucking gorgeous...looks a bit like johnny depp to be honest...very similar features and build...
oh, and apprentice boy was there and not wearing a hoodie this time...nope, tight hot (but not cheesy) t-shirt and damn!...so sexy!!
anyhow, the saga continues...i am getting touched up on the first so i'll have something to add then and maybe we'll see about the stars then... and there will be some piercing before as well...
go body modification...bring on the needles!
xo alice.
p.s. wanna see how fucking amazing danny's work is...go to http://inkmachinetattoo.com/mainframeset.htm
Monday, February 21, 2005
the end of an [emo] era
HAPPY FAMILY DAY!
dear and faithless readers,
some of you may or may not have noticed that i have been a little pre-occupied with a boy who i have decided to call john. his name of course isn't john...my name of course isn't alice... but that isn't the point... the point is i am sick of all that fucking emo garbage that has been spewing forth from my lips for the past little while...enough is enough!
john is coming to edmonton, apparently, to see his girlfriend. i am not his girlfriend. i never have been and i never will be. he didn't tell me he was coming to town, a friend told me....
he's gone from here. he loves her and the ocean and his guitar...
i accept that and from this moment forth i have moved the fuck on...no more wallowing in selfpity and no more blogging about it. (after today or if i happen to see him)
fuck yeah!
instead, i am going to continue to have crushes on unattainable boys who will never know i want to fuck them, or that i even exist for that matter... that's a way better, healthier kind of masochism...
right now: this guy who is on the radio (and an internet friend of mine)... and maybe the guitar player still a little.
so that's that.
good bye john you shameless motherfucker...
until we meet again
xo alice.
p.p.s: is it interesting that i posted this post at midnight?
dear and faithless readers,
some of you may or may not have noticed that i have been a little pre-occupied with a boy who i have decided to call john. his name of course isn't john...my name of course isn't alice... but that isn't the point... the point is i am sick of all that fucking emo garbage that has been spewing forth from my lips for the past little while...enough is enough!
john is coming to edmonton, apparently, to see his girlfriend. i am not his girlfriend. i never have been and i never will be. he didn't tell me he was coming to town, a friend told me....
he's gone from here. he loves her and the ocean and his guitar...
i accept that and from this moment forth i have moved the fuck on...no more wallowing in selfpity and no more blogging about it. (after today or if i happen to see him)
fuck yeah!
instead, i am going to continue to have crushes on unattainable boys who will never know i want to fuck them, or that i even exist for that matter... that's a way better, healthier kind of masochism...
right now: this guy who is on the radio (and an internet friend of mine)... and maybe the guitar player still a little.
so that's that.
good bye john you shameless motherfucker...
until we meet again
xo alice.
p.p.s: is it interesting that i posted this post at midnight?
Sunday, February 20, 2005
a plethora of theatrical blech!
so this past weekend...i lie, this past 48 hours (it's a long weekend) i have seen 5 one-act plays (one of them being my own) and 2 full length plays.
that's a whole hell of a lot of theatre...here's the problem...only ONE of those 7 shows (and not mine) was really fantastic...the other full length was pretty ok but generally i was disappointed with yesterday's 6.5 shows ( i saw .5 because mine was technically on friday night)...
there just wasn't anything new or interesting or even particularly outstandingly well done. the thing with the one acts that i was involved in was that they were all really sickeningly amateur (mine included and one excluded) and there was no surprise when the winners were announced (it was a competition) because those guys that won win everything...they are the best at never doing anything different...
now, i know this may be making me sound a little bit like 'princess bitter' but i assure you i'm not; it's hard to be bitter about a show that you didn't love and didn't work too too hard on not winning...i'm just bitter that it's all gotten so boring and that even the stuff that is suppose to be 'cutting edge' is no sharper than an old fuckin' table spoon...the only thing these artists are challenging is your ability to stay awake and think of some bullshit positive comments to make after their show...
now, this may also sound like me being, 'oh, i am so much better than you because i am using a sharp fuckin' knife when i make art...' ew! please, i am not that pretentious and in no way do i think that highly of myself...i WANT to make art like that someday but right now i am still treading water in the shallow end with the kids that shit in the pool...which is fine because we all gotta start somewhere...
now, the show i saw tonight...
wait, can i just sidebar and say that i have started the last three paragraphs with 'now,...' funny....i have no intention of changing it but i thought it would let y'all know that i noticed it too...
now, the show i saw tonight wasn't breaking down any borders or attempting to do anything that hadn't been done before but it was show created and mounted with honesty and heart and by two people who genuinely love what they do...
if you aren't going to 'reinvent the wheel' (which is not what i am asking for...) then at least do what you're going to do honestly and with love; that shouldn't be too much to ask....or maybe it is...
xo alice.
p.s. organic raisins are WAY better than chemical raisins...for reals kids!
p.p.s. the spell checker wants to turn fuckin' into puccini...heh heh!
that's a whole hell of a lot of theatre...here's the problem...only ONE of those 7 shows (and not mine) was really fantastic...the other full length was pretty ok but generally i was disappointed with yesterday's 6.5 shows ( i saw .5 because mine was technically on friday night)...
there just wasn't anything new or interesting or even particularly outstandingly well done. the thing with the one acts that i was involved in was that they were all really sickeningly amateur (mine included and one excluded) and there was no surprise when the winners were announced (it was a competition) because those guys that won win everything...they are the best at never doing anything different...
now, i know this may be making me sound a little bit like 'princess bitter' but i assure you i'm not; it's hard to be bitter about a show that you didn't love and didn't work too too hard on not winning...i'm just bitter that it's all gotten so boring and that even the stuff that is suppose to be 'cutting edge' is no sharper than an old fuckin' table spoon...the only thing these artists are challenging is your ability to stay awake and think of some bullshit positive comments to make after their show...
now, this may also sound like me being, 'oh, i am so much better than you because i am using a sharp fuckin' knife when i make art...' ew! please, i am not that pretentious and in no way do i think that highly of myself...i WANT to make art like that someday but right now i am still treading water in the shallow end with the kids that shit in the pool...which is fine because we all gotta start somewhere...
now, the show i saw tonight...
wait, can i just sidebar and say that i have started the last three paragraphs with 'now,...' funny....i have no intention of changing it but i thought it would let y'all know that i noticed it too...
now, the show i saw tonight wasn't breaking down any borders or attempting to do anything that hadn't been done before but it was show created and mounted with honesty and heart and by two people who genuinely love what they do...
if you aren't going to 'reinvent the wheel' (which is not what i am asking for...) then at least do what you're going to do honestly and with love; that shouldn't be too much to ask....or maybe it is...
xo alice.
p.s. organic raisins are WAY better than chemical raisins...for reals kids!
p.p.s. the spell checker wants to turn fuckin' into puccini...heh heh!
tom waits' lover...
...yeah, that'd be me kids...
here's why:
ALICE by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan
It's dreamy weather we're on You wave your crooked wand Along an icy pond With a frozen moon A murder of silhouette crows I saw...And the tears on my face And the skates on the pond they spell Alice I'll disappear in your name But you must wait for me Somewhere beneath the sea There's the wreck of a ship Your hair is like meadow grass On the tide And the raindrops on my window And the ice in my drink Baby all i can think of is Alice Arithmetic Arithmetock I turn the hands back on the clock How does the ocean rock the boat How did the razor find my throat The only strings that hold me here Are tangled up around the pier And so a secret kiss Brings madness with the bliss And I will think of this When I'm dead in my grave Set me adrift and I'm lost over there But I must be insane To go skating on your name And by tracing it twice I fell through the ice Of Alice There's onely Alice
i know i said i don't like capital letters but i have to write it as written right? right...
oh, and yeah, i'd fuck tom waits...that gravely voiced sex machine...well, i'm guessing he's a sex machine...
the point: how hot is it to have a song written about you by tom fuckin' waits?
xo alice.
here's why:
ALICE by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan
It's dreamy weather we're on You wave your crooked wand Along an icy pond With a frozen moon A murder of silhouette crows I saw...And the tears on my face And the skates on the pond they spell Alice I'll disappear in your name But you must wait for me Somewhere beneath the sea There's the wreck of a ship Your hair is like meadow grass On the tide And the raindrops on my window And the ice in my drink Baby all i can think of is Alice Arithmetic Arithmetock I turn the hands back on the clock How does the ocean rock the boat How did the razor find my throat The only strings that hold me here Are tangled up around the pier And so a secret kiss Brings madness with the bliss And I will think of this When I'm dead in my grave Set me adrift and I'm lost over there But I must be insane To go skating on your name And by tracing it twice I fell through the ice Of Alice There's onely Alice
i know i said i don't like capital letters but i have to write it as written right? right...
oh, and yeah, i'd fuck tom waits...that gravely voiced sex machine...well, i'm guessing he's a sex machine...
the point: how hot is it to have a song written about you by tom fuckin' waits?
xo alice.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
and a final postscript on the day
p.s. my little crushie-poo made this 45 min 'soundtrack' and gave me a copy of it...it's amazing.
also, he came out with us this evening and conversation was next to impossible...in a good way and in a really terrible way...y'know?
p.p.s. the (international) noise conspiracy is coming to edmonton and opening for and you will know us by the trail of dead...
i can hardly fuckin' wait...may 17...and i have already got my tix!!
xo alice.
also, he came out with us this evening and conversation was next to impossible...in a good way and in a really terrible way...y'know?
p.p.s. the (international) noise conspiracy is coming to edmonton and opening for and you will know us by the trail of dead...
i can hardly fuckin' wait...may 17...and i have already got my tix!!
xo alice.
the tattoo saga pt. 3
so i went with my little sis today to ritualistics to visit michelle for a little while (the sis is getting inked next week) and it was so good to see her...i felt nice there. happy, content, etc...
i am getting touched up on the first and michelle has this pigment from japan that is black light sensitive (ie: glows) and is also hot pink... i am thinking a little knuckle star might be kind of hot...
on a related note there is this guy, jonny, who works at ritualistics as a piercer, who i have a little mega-crush on for like close to two years. he is covered in tattoos and he's now got some nice tunnels in his ears and his septum pierced...he used to have small plugs and both eye brows done... the new look is super hot...
so, michelle goes to photocopy my sisters design and lifts some baked good off the copier stating, oh so casually, 'jonnycat's got himself a new girlfriend..."
motherfucker...
anyhow, i need to get tattooed...i can't wait til march 1
xo alice.
i am getting touched up on the first and michelle has this pigment from japan that is black light sensitive (ie: glows) and is also hot pink... i am thinking a little knuckle star might be kind of hot...
on a related note there is this guy, jonny, who works at ritualistics as a piercer, who i have a little mega-crush on for like close to two years. he is covered in tattoos and he's now got some nice tunnels in his ears and his septum pierced...he used to have small plugs and both eye brows done... the new look is super hot...
so, michelle goes to photocopy my sisters design and lifts some baked good off the copier stating, oh so casually, 'jonnycat's got himself a new girlfriend..."
motherfucker...
anyhow, i need to get tattooed...i can't wait til march 1
xo alice.
oh sweet christ, not again
so guess who may or may not be coming to town...
...john...
motherfucker. that is the last thing i need...
xo alice.
...john...
motherfucker. that is the last thing i need...
xo alice.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
rental cars are weird
so i normally drive a little silver saturn and i like it...i am used to it's height and blind spots and all that jazz...i don't have to adjust the mirrors or the radio stations or any of that...we co-exist quite well.
but now saturn is in the shop getting a new hood after a little tussle with an audi tank and i have a rental.
the rental is nice...it's new cavalier and it's fuck-me-red...but it's weird and there are no programmed radio stations and my garage door opener is in the ashtray and there's no place for my cell phone. also, i am finding it difficult to tell how long the car is and where the blindspots are and i am adjusting the mirrors every five seconds...
i miss my car... and i never thought i would.
ah well...
xo alice.
but now saturn is in the shop getting a new hood after a little tussle with an audi tank and i have a rental.
the rental is nice...it's new cavalier and it's fuck-me-red...but it's weird and there are no programmed radio stations and my garage door opener is in the ashtray and there's no place for my cell phone. also, i am finding it difficult to tell how long the car is and where the blindspots are and i am adjusting the mirrors every five seconds...
i miss my car... and i never thought i would.
ah well...
xo alice.
and so i melted...
the guilt overcame me and i had couldn't post what was posted here...why didn't i just erase all traces of said post...well, that would be deceitful and i am trying to be honest here.
xo alice.
xo alice.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
what kind of vd did you have?
valentines day that is...
get your minds out of the gutter...alice has never had vd in her life...at least not that she's aware of...
wait, why am i talking in the third person? because it's the cool thing to do...ha ha!
so, yesturday was valentines day and i admit i woke up and puked a little in my mouth. i'm single and i don't like valentines. the two aren't related but they seem to be smushed together by all those "rub in yer face" lovies...y'know the chicks who think you feel bad about being single and tell you, 'don't worry, you're prince will come...'
jesus fuck ladies! my life isn't a goddamn disney movie and i like it that way...i'd prefer if my prince never came, princes' exploit human capital and have imperialist tendencies...i'd prefer you say, 'don't worry, your comrade in arms will come...' and even then...
but here's the problem...all vd i wanted my prince to come. i wanted to answer the phone or open an email and have some boy whom i wasn't expecting to be declaring his love for me on the most romantic day of the year...sure, there's one boy in particular i would have liked to have been on the otherside of that wish...well two actually but the first was probably lost in emoland composing lame-ass songs about broken hearts and sunday mornings to the girl he chose over me...or didn't choose i suppose, i wasn't an option...
i digress...it's pathetic i know but...even if it was my musician crush (eep...they're both musicians) who isn't all emo...i wouldn't have shed a happiness tear...
but that didn't happen. he did email me though, the non-emo musician - the musician to whom all my hideous emo rantings have NOT been dedicated- but only because i sent him a passive aggressive guilt trip email for acting like a hipster prick...his email was really nice though and i think he figured out that i was mad...good thing he's shy and equally passive aggressive...
i guess i just figured out why no one wants to give me vd...
here's to redundancy!
xo alice.
p.s. pink and red don't clash see...
p.p.s. spell check wants to change emoland to emolliant...ha hha hahaha
get your minds out of the gutter...alice has never had vd in her life...at least not that she's aware of...
wait, why am i talking in the third person? because it's the cool thing to do...ha ha!
so, yesturday was valentines day and i admit i woke up and puked a little in my mouth. i'm single and i don't like valentines. the two aren't related but they seem to be smushed together by all those "rub in yer face" lovies...y'know the chicks who think you feel bad about being single and tell you, 'don't worry, you're prince will come...'
jesus fuck ladies! my life isn't a goddamn disney movie and i like it that way...i'd prefer if my prince never came, princes' exploit human capital and have imperialist tendencies...i'd prefer you say, 'don't worry, your comrade in arms will come...' and even then...
but here's the problem...all vd i wanted my prince to come. i wanted to answer the phone or open an email and have some boy whom i wasn't expecting to be declaring his love for me on the most romantic day of the year...sure, there's one boy in particular i would have liked to have been on the otherside of that wish...well two actually but the first was probably lost in emoland composing lame-ass songs about broken hearts and sunday mornings to the girl he chose over me...or didn't choose i suppose, i wasn't an option...
i digress...it's pathetic i know but...even if it was my musician crush (eep...they're both musicians) who isn't all emo...i wouldn't have shed a happiness tear...
but that didn't happen. he did email me though, the non-emo musician - the musician to whom all my hideous emo rantings have NOT been dedicated- but only because i sent him a passive aggressive guilt trip email for acting like a hipster prick...his email was really nice though and i think he figured out that i was mad...good thing he's shy and equally passive aggressive...
i guess i just figured out why no one wants to give me vd...
here's to redundancy!
xo alice.
p.s. pink and red don't clash see...
p.p.s. spell check wants to change emoland to emolliant...ha hha hahaha
Sunday, February 13, 2005
dear hipster assholes
dear hipster assholes,
this seems to be a common theme for me but i am just going to run with it.
there are two types of seriously shitty hipster, which are you?
1) the -i'm-too-cool-for-school-but-don't-know-shit type? or the 2) well-since-i've-heard-of-experimentalsupergroupx-i-must-be-better-than-you-and-will-make-sure-you're-aware-of-it type?
please decide before you read on because i will now refer to you by number (the definitions take too long to write out with all those hyphens). if you feel like you may fall into both categories for one reason or another you are SUPER asshole and should probably read both. if you are neither brand of asshole read both sections just for a laugh...you're allowed to laugh at a hipster, they've laughed at you.
dear hipster asshole number one.
remember the time we had that class together and you were talking to that guy with subpop stickers all over his water bottle about that band that was playing that night? well, i like that band and the moment arose so i spoke up,
'hey that experimentalsupergroupx show is going to be fuckin' aces tonight eh?'
and all you did was role your eyes and sigh loudly to the equally asshole-ish hipster with the subpop stickers all over his waterbottle.
look, sweetie, you know fuck all about me. you know fuck all about the authenticity of my punk experience and you're bleached out hair with it's ironic angula cut in no way make you better than me...
later tonight at the experimentalsupergroupx show we'll be in the same boat...actually we'll have both been kicked out of the same boat left to flail akwardly in the water while far too many hipster asshole number 2's point, with stella in hand, ironically and pretentiously laughing at us not missing a beat in there thrilling dialogue about the ironic commentary on post modern post hardcore the band about to take the stage is making with their black shirts they've painted white...
fuck you,
alice.
dear hipster asshole number 2
fuck you a little bit more.
ok, i will admit that my musical knowledge is not as well developed as yours. it never will be. you came out of the womb knowing more about music than i did. that is a given and i accept that. i also accept that you are far more 'hip' on the lastest in white belts and skinny ties and not only do you have ironic angular haircuts, you also provide them for people during the day. i also accept the fact that you will always look better in $300 jeans and stillettos. all of this is fuckin' cool by me...
what i will never understand is how all this makes you better than me. if i ask you about a band or attempt to engage in a tete-a-tete with you about the postmodern implications of neonewwave on a posthardcore/postpunk scene you should welcome my desire to converse...
if you shut me out your world will only get smaller and then you and the 16 guys in the neonewwave postpunk posthardcore band can sit around alone at the bar masturbating and talking about your new cool jeans and haircuts.
oh, and for all you music snobs who feel this category doesn't apply because you aren't into fashion...fuck you ever more because at least the hipsters who are into fashion aren't quite as singularly focused. get a fuckin' cool haircut and a great pair of jeans and you'll fit right in. oh and if you're worried that you're becoming a hipster don't...you already are one...
pppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbbttttt! (that's a spitting noise)
alice
now, you, dear reader, are probably thinking to yourself, 'alice, where is all this hostility coming from' or perhaps, 'yeah, fuck you right back...you're as much of a hipster as i am...' and i will admit that i have on a couple of occasions been accused of being a bit of a hipster but if i was anything it was a wanna-be...i long to be a hipster asshole number 2 but i can't do it...they won't accept me into their ranks...my knowledge base is too small...i exist on the fringes discovering bands weeks after it was cool to do so...it's always, 'that's so yesterday' for me...
so, where is the hostility coming from? well, hipster asshole number 1 is someone my sister encountered last week when she happened to share in this chicks excitement over the imminent performance of the weakerthans in our fair city...later she overheard this chick talking about what poseur the chick with the pink streaks (my sister) was...fuck that shit!
hipster assholes number 2 are my two musicians...one of whom i have a MASSIVE crush on...tonight they were going on and on about how edmonton audiences fail to see the irony of contemporary electronica...or something to that affect, and when i attempted to join the conversation (it was interesting and i have opinions about it...) they called a quick end to the conversation and made a quick exit...assholes...
and god did i want to be able to keep up with them....
i guess in some ways this is also an apology to all those i have been shitty too about their musical tastes...except that seb reflex asshole from myspace...i am not sorry to him...it fuckin' sucks! sorry...
xo alice.
this seems to be a common theme for me but i am just going to run with it.
there are two types of seriously shitty hipster, which are you?
1) the -i'm-too-cool-for-school-but-don't-know-shit type? or the 2) well-since-i've-heard-of-experimentalsupergroupx-i-must-be-better-than-you-and-will-make-sure-you're-aware-of-it type?
please decide before you read on because i will now refer to you by number (the definitions take too long to write out with all those hyphens). if you feel like you may fall into both categories for one reason or another you are SUPER asshole and should probably read both. if you are neither brand of asshole read both sections just for a laugh...you're allowed to laugh at a hipster, they've laughed at you.
dear hipster asshole number one.
remember the time we had that class together and you were talking to that guy with subpop stickers all over his water bottle about that band that was playing that night? well, i like that band and the moment arose so i spoke up,
'hey that experimentalsupergroupx show is going to be fuckin' aces tonight eh?'
and all you did was role your eyes and sigh loudly to the equally asshole-ish hipster with the subpop stickers all over his waterbottle.
look, sweetie, you know fuck all about me. you know fuck all about the authenticity of my punk experience and you're bleached out hair with it's ironic angula cut in no way make you better than me...
later tonight at the experimentalsupergroupx show we'll be in the same boat...actually we'll have both been kicked out of the same boat left to flail akwardly in the water while far too many hipster asshole number 2's point, with stella in hand, ironically and pretentiously laughing at us not missing a beat in there thrilling dialogue about the ironic commentary on post modern post hardcore the band about to take the stage is making with their black shirts they've painted white...
fuck you,
alice.
dear hipster asshole number 2
fuck you a little bit more.
ok, i will admit that my musical knowledge is not as well developed as yours. it never will be. you came out of the womb knowing more about music than i did. that is a given and i accept that. i also accept that you are far more 'hip' on the lastest in white belts and skinny ties and not only do you have ironic angular haircuts, you also provide them for people during the day. i also accept the fact that you will always look better in $300 jeans and stillettos. all of this is fuckin' cool by me...
what i will never understand is how all this makes you better than me. if i ask you about a band or attempt to engage in a tete-a-tete with you about the postmodern implications of neonewwave on a posthardcore/postpunk scene you should welcome my desire to converse...
if you shut me out your world will only get smaller and then you and the 16 guys in the neonewwave postpunk posthardcore band can sit around alone at the bar masturbating and talking about your new cool jeans and haircuts.
oh, and for all you music snobs who feel this category doesn't apply because you aren't into fashion...fuck you ever more because at least the hipsters who are into fashion aren't quite as singularly focused. get a fuckin' cool haircut and a great pair of jeans and you'll fit right in. oh and if you're worried that you're becoming a hipster don't...you already are one...
pppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbbttttt! (that's a spitting noise)
alice
now, you, dear reader, are probably thinking to yourself, 'alice, where is all this hostility coming from' or perhaps, 'yeah, fuck you right back...you're as much of a hipster as i am...' and i will admit that i have on a couple of occasions been accused of being a bit of a hipster but if i was anything it was a wanna-be...i long to be a hipster asshole number 2 but i can't do it...they won't accept me into their ranks...my knowledge base is too small...i exist on the fringes discovering bands weeks after it was cool to do so...it's always, 'that's so yesterday' for me...
so, where is the hostility coming from? well, hipster asshole number 1 is someone my sister encountered last week when she happened to share in this chicks excitement over the imminent performance of the weakerthans in our fair city...later she overheard this chick talking about what poseur the chick with the pink streaks (my sister) was...fuck that shit!
hipster assholes number 2 are my two musicians...one of whom i have a MASSIVE crush on...tonight they were going on and on about how edmonton audiences fail to see the irony of contemporary electronica...or something to that affect, and when i attempted to join the conversation (it was interesting and i have opinions about it...) they called a quick end to the conversation and made a quick exit...assholes...
and god did i want to be able to keep up with them....
i guess in some ways this is also an apology to all those i have been shitty too about their musical tastes...except that seb reflex asshole from myspace...i am not sorry to him...it fuckin' sucks! sorry...
xo alice.
Friday, February 11, 2005
the tattoo saga pt. 2
ok...this is my third fucking attempt at this damn post. every time i hit the goddamn backspace button it takes me back a page deleting everything i had written...fuck!
i digress, this ladies and gents is an update.
in response to pt. 1 louise said:
I think you should get a tattoo on your pifty. If it means that the hot tattoo artist gets to touch your snatch, you should go for it...for reals.
well louise darling, i hate to disappoint but hot tattoo artist will not be tattooing my pifty because i will not be having my pifty tattooed nor will he be tattooing me at all...notice how i didn't say he won't be touching my snatch though...because i hope he will be...
what will be happening is hopefully his collegue danny will be tattooing me (not my pifty) after we have our little consultation the week after next. i did book the appointment with the hottie boy and his voice (combined with how hot i know he is) made me all creamy in my panties...
so here's the update:
february 24, 2005 at 12:30pm at ink machine...consult with danny re: angel on left breast/rib and full right arm sleeve...
xo alice.
i digress, this ladies and gents is an update.
in response to pt. 1 louise said:
I think you should get a tattoo on your pifty. If it means that the hot tattoo artist gets to touch your snatch, you should go for it...for reals.
well louise darling, i hate to disappoint but hot tattoo artist will not be tattooing my pifty because i will not be having my pifty tattooed nor will he be tattooing me at all...notice how i didn't say he won't be touching my snatch though...because i hope he will be...
what will be happening is hopefully his collegue danny will be tattooing me (not my pifty) after we have our little consultation the week after next. i did book the appointment with the hottie boy and his voice (combined with how hot i know he is) made me all creamy in my panties...
so here's the update:
february 24, 2005 at 12:30pm at ink machine...consult with danny re: angel on left breast/rib and full right arm sleeve...
xo alice.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
the tattoo saga pt 1.
well ladies and gents i have decided to document my quest into the world of the heavily tattooed. it was meant to begin today. i was meant to be heading down to ritualistics to get a touch-up on my wrist and allow that little bit of beautiful pain jumpstart my path to sleeve-land.
but alas fair reader, michelle (my tattoo artist) was sick today and i could not get the work done.
sad sad sad...
march 1st ladies and gentlemen...3 weeks and i will be touched up. i may head to ink machine before that and get the ball rolling on some serious work...
i'll keep you posted.
xo alice.
but alas fair reader, michelle (my tattoo artist) was sick today and i could not get the work done.
sad sad sad...
march 1st ladies and gentlemen...3 weeks and i will be touched up. i may head to ink machine before that and get the ball rolling on some serious work...
i'll keep you posted.
xo alice.
Monday, February 07, 2005
the birth and death of a friendship
ok...so it's been a while since i have posted so i am catching up...
lately, i have been addicted to myspace.com and i wanted to share the birth and death of a myspace friendship with y'all...cuz it's fucked!
ok...well i deleted some of them so i will post what i can...
first this is not about sex or dating. i thought he looked cool. he was from montreal and loved a lot of the bands i liked...
so i added him by saying:
i saw radio berlin in edmonton earlier in the year! best edmonton club show of 2004!
he (Seb Reflex) responded:
you say radio berlin live?
then we messaged back and forth, etc...
finally, like yesturday, i noticed that he was a fan of the hideous scottish band franz ferdinand. now, anyone who knows me will tell you that i HATE franz ferdinand and send letters to magazines asking them not to print articles about them anymore (seriously)...so i messaged seb something to the effect of franz ferdinand suck my anus...(less graphic of course) and asked him what he likes about them etc all in an attempt to engage him in a dialogue about music...which i love by the by...and his response was as follows:
go fuck yourself, don t talk to me like that,,,,
you cant force someone to listen to what you think is good, i hate emo but i won t tell to the emos to stop listenin what they want,, i won t waste my time, just FUCK YOU!
then he deleted me and we aren't friends anymore...
i was upset. i got this email at like 7:30am...it's ruined my day...go fuck yourself?!? seriously, isn't that a little over the top? i thought so...this was my reply:
wow...that's really hostile dude...i tell EVERYONE not to listen to franz ferdinand...i even write letters to magazines...just chill...it really isn't worth telling me to fuck off over. jesus christ....what a way to wake up...fuck!
seriously, those fucking hipsters kill me every time!
anyhow, have a good day!
xo alice
lately, i have been addicted to myspace.com and i wanted to share the birth and death of a myspace friendship with y'all...cuz it's fucked!
ok...well i deleted some of them so i will post what i can...
first this is not about sex or dating. i thought he looked cool. he was from montreal and loved a lot of the bands i liked...
so i added him by saying:
i saw radio berlin in edmonton earlier in the year! best edmonton club show of 2004!
he (Seb Reflex) responded:
you say radio berlin live?
then we messaged back and forth, etc...
finally, like yesturday, i noticed that he was a fan of the hideous scottish band franz ferdinand. now, anyone who knows me will tell you that i HATE franz ferdinand and send letters to magazines asking them not to print articles about them anymore (seriously)...so i messaged seb something to the effect of franz ferdinand suck my anus...(less graphic of course) and asked him what he likes about them etc all in an attempt to engage him in a dialogue about music...which i love by the by...and his response was as follows:
go fuck yourself, don t talk to me like that,,,,
you cant force someone to listen to what you think is good, i hate emo but i won t tell to the emos to stop listenin what they want,, i won t waste my time, just FUCK YOU!
then he deleted me and we aren't friends anymore...
i was upset. i got this email at like 7:30am...it's ruined my day...go fuck yourself?!? seriously, isn't that a little over the top? i thought so...this was my reply:
wow...that's really hostile dude...i tell EVERYONE not to listen to franz ferdinand...i even write letters to magazines...just chill...it really isn't worth telling me to fuck off over. jesus christ....what a way to wake up...fuck!
seriously, those fucking hipsters kill me every time!
anyhow, have a good day!
xo alice
and an old one rekindled...
lemme give you some back story about my dad.
he was born in kingston jamaica in 1950. his mother died when he was very young and his father got remarried to a german woman. in 1963 his father died and his stepmother moved them back to germany...trier, specifically. while in trier he went to high school on a nearby us army base at bitburg. he was allowed to go to an american school not only because he didn't speak german but because in 50s in jamaica you had to choose between british and american citizenship...his mother was an american and therefore so was he...after graduation my dad was drafted into the vietnam war. his stepmother wrote a letter saying that he has never lived in the us and therefore will not fight. he didn't fight but was forced to give up his american citizenship. in 1971 he moved to montreal to go to university and the rest as they say is history...
flash ahead to 2005...my dad has made his way across the country and is now nearly 55...it's been over 30 since he was in high school...37 i believe...
three weeks ago he was checking some online banking stuff and came across one of those find your long lost classmates websites...he found bitburg high, registered and heard nothing.
then this morning he gets a message from a very old friend saying that his sister recognized my dad's name on the website. so my dad emailed this paul guy, told him to look at his business website and some small details of the past 37 years and at 3:15pm this afternoon the phone at work rings, i answer and pass it off to my dad and lo and behold it's paul...
so i sat for the next 20 minutes and listened to my dad, more excited then i had heard him sound in months, reminisce about old girlfriends, friends lost in vietnam (thank god he didn't go...) and the present. it was so exciting.
it's those moments ladies and gentlemen that you realise not only did your parents have a life before you and that it was probably pretty rad but; that life and love and relationships and friends are pretty fuckin' rad and that we should hang on to those times because when we get that call in 37 years there'd better be something to talk about...
'night
xo alice
he was born in kingston jamaica in 1950. his mother died when he was very young and his father got remarried to a german woman. in 1963 his father died and his stepmother moved them back to germany...trier, specifically. while in trier he went to high school on a nearby us army base at bitburg. he was allowed to go to an american school not only because he didn't speak german but because in 50s in jamaica you had to choose between british and american citizenship...his mother was an american and therefore so was he...after graduation my dad was drafted into the vietnam war. his stepmother wrote a letter saying that he has never lived in the us and therefore will not fight. he didn't fight but was forced to give up his american citizenship. in 1971 he moved to montreal to go to university and the rest as they say is history...
flash ahead to 2005...my dad has made his way across the country and is now nearly 55...it's been over 30 since he was in high school...37 i believe...
three weeks ago he was checking some online banking stuff and came across one of those find your long lost classmates websites...he found bitburg high, registered and heard nothing.
then this morning he gets a message from a very old friend saying that his sister recognized my dad's name on the website. so my dad emailed this paul guy, told him to look at his business website and some small details of the past 37 years and at 3:15pm this afternoon the phone at work rings, i answer and pass it off to my dad and lo and behold it's paul...
so i sat for the next 20 minutes and listened to my dad, more excited then i had heard him sound in months, reminisce about old girlfriends, friends lost in vietnam (thank god he didn't go...) and the present. it was so exciting.
it's those moments ladies and gentlemen that you realise not only did your parents have a life before you and that it was probably pretty rad but; that life and love and relationships and friends are pretty fuckin' rad and that we should hang on to those times because when we get that call in 37 years there'd better be something to talk about...
'night
xo alice
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
i hate the law
hello kids,
before i begin i would like to apologize for previous posts wherein i cried and expressed myself all over the internet. that is not what online journals are for...they are not for emotions. that what emo is for...so i will spare you the intense whining i have been involved in and go back to doing what i do best: complaining about the stupid and arbitrary...
like insurance claims for example...
on the weekend i got into a little fender bender. no one was hurt and louise and i were able to continue along on our tattoo shopping trip but it's become a HUGE pain in my ass...ok, ok, it probably should be a huge pain in my ass, afterall i was at fault and i have now discovered that it's going to be a little expensive...
whatever...the reason that i hate the law is because of all the redtape hoop jumping i have to do.
1) hit someone
2) go to the police station and get treated like a criminal again...
3) go home and cry
4) call insurance company and get treated like a stupid criminal again...
5) talk to insurance adjuster and not understand a word they say
6) wait for a four hour window for the estimator to come...he comes 5 minutes after you could have gone for lunch, as a result you miss dim sum...fuck!
7) wait for the body shop to call you
8) schedule an appointment with the body shop after they tell you that your shitty ass insurance company will only cover 60% of your bumper repair
9) scrounge together $700 and decide that there is no way you'll be able to go to coachella this year...damn car!
so that's why i hate the law...i am in stage 9 and it's hard kids...$700 is a lot of cash-o-la! fuck! fortunately, the front bumper damage is my sister's fault so she's paying $350...now i am only scrounging $350...not too shabby...still can't go to coachella though...
so, i hate the law...they treat like a criminal just because you got in a ACCIDENT and then they stick needles in your eyes and take all your money. fuck!
xo alice
before i begin i would like to apologize for previous posts wherein i cried and expressed myself all over the internet. that is not what online journals are for...they are not for emotions. that what emo is for...so i will spare you the intense whining i have been involved in and go back to doing what i do best: complaining about the stupid and arbitrary...
like insurance claims for example...
on the weekend i got into a little fender bender. no one was hurt and louise and i were able to continue along on our tattoo shopping trip but it's become a HUGE pain in my ass...ok, ok, it probably should be a huge pain in my ass, afterall i was at fault and i have now discovered that it's going to be a little expensive...
whatever...the reason that i hate the law is because of all the redtape hoop jumping i have to do.
1) hit someone
2) go to the police station and get treated like a criminal again...
3) go home and cry
4) call insurance company and get treated like a stupid criminal again...
5) talk to insurance adjuster and not understand a word they say
6) wait for a four hour window for the estimator to come...he comes 5 minutes after you could have gone for lunch, as a result you miss dim sum...fuck!
7) wait for the body shop to call you
8) schedule an appointment with the body shop after they tell you that your shitty ass insurance company will only cover 60% of your bumper repair
9) scrounge together $700 and decide that there is no way you'll be able to go to coachella this year...damn car!
so that's why i hate the law...i am in stage 9 and it's hard kids...$700 is a lot of cash-o-la! fuck! fortunately, the front bumper damage is my sister's fault so she's paying $350...now i am only scrounging $350...not too shabby...still can't go to coachella though...
so, i hate the law...they treat like a criminal just because you got in a ACCIDENT and then they stick needles in your eyes and take all your money. fuck!
xo alice
Thursday, January 27, 2005
masochism 101
what i am i doing?
i looked at some stupid shit on indecline, closed all the windows on my computer, pushed in the keyboard tray, put my elbows on my hot pink tights and cried...
i never shed tears for him and now i never want to stop. i am not sure i will ever be able to.
i thought it was over. i thought this new and real crush was something to be happy about, a sign of something positive...shit, i even dressed nicely for rehearsal tonight...(he wasn't there)
i was standing in the backstage hallway of our rehearsal space and i felt him there, and the nostalgia over took my body and i wanted nothing more than to run to the airport get on a plane to the ocean and confess my sins to him...
...god, i feel like a small pathetic child sad because her favourite movie star just got married and now she'll have to find someone else...
i don't know what i am doing and i don't know how to feel this sad and survive. i know it doesn't compare to grief or to even to the loss of someone who loved you back but my heart is breaking and to me that's real...
i am an insane person and i need to go to bed.
xo alice
i looked at some stupid shit on indecline, closed all the windows on my computer, pushed in the keyboard tray, put my elbows on my hot pink tights and cried...
i never shed tears for him and now i never want to stop. i am not sure i will ever be able to.
i thought it was over. i thought this new and real crush was something to be happy about, a sign of something positive...shit, i even dressed nicely for rehearsal tonight...(he wasn't there)
i was standing in the backstage hallway of our rehearsal space and i felt him there, and the nostalgia over took my body and i wanted nothing more than to run to the airport get on a plane to the ocean and confess my sins to him...
...god, i feel like a small pathetic child sad because her favourite movie star just got married and now she'll have to find someone else...
i don't know what i am doing and i don't know how to feel this sad and survive. i know it doesn't compare to grief or to even to the loss of someone who loved you back but my heart is breaking and to me that's real...
i am an insane person and i need to go to bed.
xo alice
when from across the room...
last night began like any other night. i had coffee at my fav little coffee shop with a dear friend whom i have missed...we chatted and it was great. sitting immediately behind my friend was a boy whom i have met a few times, his name escapes me as it usually does and we look at eachother every few seconds or so. my friend and i continue to chat; the boy and i continue to flirt...
as my friend and i are leaving the coffee shop he noticed that the boy has forgotten his car keys when he left a few moments prior. so we left, i drove my friend home but couldn't get the boy and his flirting eyes out of my mind so i went back the the little coffee shop just to see if he had come back for his keys.
he had. he was inside. i didn't want to seem presumptuous so i waited outside casually smoking and trying to look as if i had a purpose for being there. he left the coffee shop and as he walked past me he made eye contact with me and held it for one moment too long. he kept walking but turned around after a few steps:
'do i know you?'
'i think we have some mutual friends...theatre people'
'oh yeah. and i saw you at new city last week with charlene right'
'yeah i think so...'
so we chat and it's a bit akward but we decide to go back inside and have a beer (or beers). we're there for a couple of hours just chatting and sharing stories...i was surprised to find we had so much in common. finally the waitress, tired from bringing us beer after beer tells us that they are closing and we had to go. so we go outside and share a cigarette:
'did you drive here?' he asks
'yep...shit!' (we're both pretty drunk at this point...)
'well, i live near by if you wanna come over. i'll sleep on the couch...you can just grab your car in the morning'
'but i have to work'
'i'll make sure you're up in time'
so i go...what the harm? as we begin walking to his house he takes my hand and i don't resist. his skin feels so warm against mine and i shiver a little.
we get to his door step and just as he's about to put his keys in the door he drops them. as he stands up, keys in hand, our eyes meet and he kisses me softly on the lips.
i read the other night that the best part of a kiss is the moment just before you kiss because you can hear their heart beating and their breath steamy and nervous in time with yours... i love that moment too...
that moment doesn't last long. before i know it we are inside, up against the wall in the main entrance way groping each other and gasping for breath. we pratically fall down the stairs into his tiny basement apartment.
we finally grope our way to the couch, a trail of shoes and jackets and mitten and toques and sweaters behind us. i had never done anything like before in my life and i was loving every second of it.
we were up all night clinging to each other the way 16 year olds cling to each other in the back of their parents car...we couldn't let go no matter how much our bodies wanted us to...he finally collapsed with exhaustion in the early hours of the morning...
we slept for a couple of hours and at 6am he woke up and made me breakfast. we showered together, still unable to let go and i left for work...
i have been thinking of him all day: remembering the way his skin felt, the way his little beads of sweat dripped onto my back, the way the floor leaves marks on your knees and hips.
god i wish that were all true...looking at that guy across the coffee shop last night, that guy who i have met a few times whose name i do remember...i wanted that.
i was going to keep up with the story, make you all believe (or at least want to believe) that i lead that kind of life, but i don't. instead: i got an email from john just now and i am just crying missing him so much that my teeth hurt. i feel like i have dug myself into a hole far too deep to ever climb out of...
i don't even know where i am...
xo alice.
as my friend and i are leaving the coffee shop he noticed that the boy has forgotten his car keys when he left a few moments prior. so we left, i drove my friend home but couldn't get the boy and his flirting eyes out of my mind so i went back the the little coffee shop just to see if he had come back for his keys.
he had. he was inside. i didn't want to seem presumptuous so i waited outside casually smoking and trying to look as if i had a purpose for being there. he left the coffee shop and as he walked past me he made eye contact with me and held it for one moment too long. he kept walking but turned around after a few steps:
'do i know you?'
'i think we have some mutual friends...theatre people'
'oh yeah. and i saw you at new city last week with charlene right'
'yeah i think so...'
so we chat and it's a bit akward but we decide to go back inside and have a beer (or beers). we're there for a couple of hours just chatting and sharing stories...i was surprised to find we had so much in common. finally the waitress, tired from bringing us beer after beer tells us that they are closing and we had to go. so we go outside and share a cigarette:
'did you drive here?' he asks
'yep...shit!' (we're both pretty drunk at this point...)
'well, i live near by if you wanna come over. i'll sleep on the couch...you can just grab your car in the morning'
'but i have to work'
'i'll make sure you're up in time'
so i go...what the harm? as we begin walking to his house he takes my hand and i don't resist. his skin feels so warm against mine and i shiver a little.
we get to his door step and just as he's about to put his keys in the door he drops them. as he stands up, keys in hand, our eyes meet and he kisses me softly on the lips.
i read the other night that the best part of a kiss is the moment just before you kiss because you can hear their heart beating and their breath steamy and nervous in time with yours... i love that moment too...
that moment doesn't last long. before i know it we are inside, up against the wall in the main entrance way groping each other and gasping for breath. we pratically fall down the stairs into his tiny basement apartment.
we finally grope our way to the couch, a trail of shoes and jackets and mitten and toques and sweaters behind us. i had never done anything like before in my life and i was loving every second of it.
we were up all night clinging to each other the way 16 year olds cling to each other in the back of their parents car...we couldn't let go no matter how much our bodies wanted us to...he finally collapsed with exhaustion in the early hours of the morning...
we slept for a couple of hours and at 6am he woke up and made me breakfast. we showered together, still unable to let go and i left for work...
i have been thinking of him all day: remembering the way his skin felt, the way his little beads of sweat dripped onto my back, the way the floor leaves marks on your knees and hips.
god i wish that were all true...looking at that guy across the coffee shop last night, that guy who i have met a few times whose name i do remember...i wanted that.
i was going to keep up with the story, make you all believe (or at least want to believe) that i lead that kind of life, but i don't. instead: i got an email from john just now and i am just crying missing him so much that my teeth hurt. i feel like i have dug myself into a hole far too deep to ever climb out of...
i don't even know where i am...
xo alice.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
unexpected and curious
so i had this brilliant idea for a post yesterday...i was feeling inspired by song and ready to start a counterpoperosion revolution (www.thefaint.com) in my own home... (while providing you all with ways to do the same...)
today, this idea is dead. the revolutionary spirit in me is quelled for the moment, only for a moment i am sure, but tonight i am feeling warm and happy inside...one could dare say, excited...
now i am sure the question that is passing through your mind is, 'why?'...that would of course be my question as well...the answer ladies and gentlemen is simple and 'simple' at the same time: i have a crush on a boy...
shit, i have a real, giddy, stupid, wanna hang out with him crush...
my crushes usually involve people who are either completely unavailable due either to relationship status (already known by me before preceding with crush and of no consequence) or sexual preference (meaning: i have a thing for gay men...) or they are on boys who i may never actually meet and are appealing because if i never meet them they can never reject me...
but this is something new, something i haven't felt for a while: something that makes me want to brush my hair and teeth and put on makeup before going out; something that makes me want to say witty things and have more clever conversations about experimental noise pop vs. mediocre edmonton punk rock in the hallways of obscure treatment centres for youth with mental and emotional problems...
it makes me want all of that and it makes me excited on a sunday evening...
now, is there hope for me and my crush? well, there are a two things i do not know about him: 1) is he single? (usually, i already know and don't care...this time i don't) and 2) is he interested in me...
i hope he is. i want him to be. i want him to play guitar for me at 4am and write me songs and sing them in a quiet voice as the sun starts to rise... i want all that cheesy pop music romance shit...
i never feel like this. i haven't been this excited about a person in ages...
'so who is this guy?' i guess that's the last question on your mind... see the 'big fat stinky liar' post from a few weeks back...
this is so exciting!! (or at least i hope it might be...)
xo alice.
today, this idea is dead. the revolutionary spirit in me is quelled for the moment, only for a moment i am sure, but tonight i am feeling warm and happy inside...one could dare say, excited...
now i am sure the question that is passing through your mind is, 'why?'...that would of course be my question as well...the answer ladies and gentlemen is simple and 'simple' at the same time: i have a crush on a boy...
shit, i have a real, giddy, stupid, wanna hang out with him crush...
my crushes usually involve people who are either completely unavailable due either to relationship status (already known by me before preceding with crush and of no consequence) or sexual preference (meaning: i have a thing for gay men...) or they are on boys who i may never actually meet and are appealing because if i never meet them they can never reject me...
but this is something new, something i haven't felt for a while: something that makes me want to brush my hair and teeth and put on makeup before going out; something that makes me want to say witty things and have more clever conversations about experimental noise pop vs. mediocre edmonton punk rock in the hallways of obscure treatment centres for youth with mental and emotional problems...
it makes me want all of that and it makes me excited on a sunday evening...
now, is there hope for me and my crush? well, there are a two things i do not know about him: 1) is he single? (usually, i already know and don't care...this time i don't) and 2) is he interested in me...
i hope he is. i want him to be. i want him to play guitar for me at 4am and write me songs and sing them in a quiet voice as the sun starts to rise... i want all that cheesy pop music romance shit...
i never feel like this. i haven't been this excited about a person in ages...
'so who is this guy?' i guess that's the last question on your mind... see the 'big fat stinky liar' post from a few weeks back...
this is so exciting!! (or at least i hope it might be...)
xo alice.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
'drop kick the punks'
now as some of you out there in internet may or may not know there is a little website/message board for all the bored punk kids with too much time on their hands (www.indecline.net) and i embarrassed myself a little on there today...well, i didn't feel embarrassed but the dude who clued me in on my little punk rawk faux-pas sure thought i should be...
here's a little back story... this dude was talking about the 'true meaning' of punk (ugh) and got onto this huge rant about anarchy and that the anarchist spirit is what 'true' punks embody... so basically every single kid on this site slammed this dude's opinion and called him an asshole etc... whatever- some of the shit he said i agreed with so i responded with the following:
i think you guys are all being a bit shit about [ ]'s opinion. i agree that by choosing to live on the street the problem of poverty is being romantised but choosing to live without the confines of the capitalist machine is one of the principles of anarchy but i think it fails on a fundamental level because (true) anarchy is utopian and within a capitalist society (however disgusting) where real poverty is a real problem it may not be the best choice...that being said and all the slams against him for being bourgeois or whatever...fuck you guys...we have no control over the families we were born into...[ ] could not, at birth, control that his father was an attorney the same way someone cannot, at birth, prevent their mother from being a crackwhore...it's what you do with your situation and how you deal with it in a larger social context that matters. the fact that people like [ ] step away from the world they were born into is wicked...it's a step away, maybe not the best step but at least he's making one instead of dicking around and complaining about shit...that's fuckin' punk rock...
(named removed to protect the strangers who post here...)
so then this dude who posts like 5,000,000 things a day responds with the following:
You do realize [ ] is a joke user right? It is a fake account created to start up hilarious shit. The person who wrote it knew what they were saying was totally retarded and that is why they said it. In conclusion [ ] isn't real. Just a user created to start shit. -{ }
first off...am i suppose to embarrassed by this...so some fucking kids who think they're pretty hardcore because they play bingo at new city on tuesdays think it's funny that i am not so in on the indecline nonsense that i didn't know this...whatever, fuck!
but then it got me thinking, actually thinking, about this whole 'scene' thing...and how much it erks me...
ok. another brief history...just to make sure we're all on the same page...
i have been a music fan-a hardcore music fan-since around 1993-ish. i have been into punk since around 1994-ish...that's what 10-11 years? my punk experience was a little different then the gangs of kids with mohawks and bondage pants playing in bands and really living the subculture...i didn't know any punks. people like that, people like me, did not exist where i went to school. that, and my parents were incredibly strict, so basements shows and all those experiences were not part of my reality...the scene was never a scene for me. i thought punk existed in london, la and new york and so i listened alone in my basement having what i felt to be my own authentic punk rock experience-i was the loner...after junior high i wanted to have friends and i didn't want people to think i was the 'freak' so i changed...i did a total 180 and became the preppiest kid ever. obviously i wasn't happy, i hid the whole 'punk' thing away in headphone late at night and smoked way too much pot so i just didn't have to be an active part of my own deception...deep, i know but you think i knew that at the time? fuck no, i thought it was cool that i was stoned all the time and listening to rancid alone in my room...so i finished high school, and was finally able to accept myself and do what i love...so we cool... i like that i had that time, that experience and it's made me different then a lot of the punks my age who i see at shows...the number one difference: i hardly know a soul...
which brings me to my point...i don't know anyone at shows, except the person that i am there with...and so all these strangers are there, claiming to be part of a welcoming refuge for freaks and artists and miscreants (parts of which i am composed of...) and i find it to be the most exclusionary place...and here's why: being punk in edmonton in 2005 has fuck all to do with punk...or even music for that matter! the scene is about being seen in the coolest band t-shirt; it's about knowing the people in the band but not really giving a shit about their music. i really believe that most people don't like 'punk rock', they like indie rock, but love the punk seen...punk is nasty music and i can't believe cindy 'i-am-so-fucking-punk-in-my-diesel-bondage-pants' really likes listening to it...
now this of course doesn't refer to EVERYONE at the show except me. i don't claim to be anything i'm not and not everyone at the show is there for sly fashionista purposes (...but jesus i have never seen so many 'vintage' $400 blazers in my life) ... i just find it really fucking amusing when i go to a show and no one is there to hear the bands (which i am because i don't know anyone) and no one will talk to me at an event, defined through history, that is meant to be completely inclusive of all people otherwise excluded...
all of it-indecline, blazers, snobby bitches, punk, etc...-all of it makes me want to jump up onstage at new city one night, rip the microphone out of the singers hands and scream...'fuck you posers!!'
now that would be punk...i am just worried they'd all be mean to me, burn my blazer and kick me off indecline...
xo alice
here's a little back story... this dude was talking about the 'true meaning' of punk (ugh) and got onto this huge rant about anarchy and that the anarchist spirit is what 'true' punks embody... so basically every single kid on this site slammed this dude's opinion and called him an asshole etc... whatever- some of the shit he said i agreed with so i responded with the following:
i think you guys are all being a bit shit about [ ]'s opinion. i agree that by choosing to live on the street the problem of poverty is being romantised but choosing to live without the confines of the capitalist machine is one of the principles of anarchy but i think it fails on a fundamental level because (true) anarchy is utopian and within a capitalist society (however disgusting) where real poverty is a real problem it may not be the best choice...that being said and all the slams against him for being bourgeois or whatever...fuck you guys...we have no control over the families we were born into...[ ] could not, at birth, control that his father was an attorney the same way someone cannot, at birth, prevent their mother from being a crackwhore...it's what you do with your situation and how you deal with it in a larger social context that matters. the fact that people like [ ] step away from the world they were born into is wicked...it's a step away, maybe not the best step but at least he's making one instead of dicking around and complaining about shit...that's fuckin' punk rock...
(named removed to protect the strangers who post here...)
so then this dude who posts like 5,000,000 things a day responds with the following:
You do realize [ ] is a joke user right? It is a fake account created to start up hilarious shit. The person who wrote it knew what they were saying was totally retarded and that is why they said it. In conclusion [ ] isn't real. Just a user created to start shit. -{ }
first off...am i suppose to embarrassed by this...so some fucking kids who think they're pretty hardcore because they play bingo at new city on tuesdays think it's funny that i am not so in on the indecline nonsense that i didn't know this...whatever, fuck!
but then it got me thinking, actually thinking, about this whole 'scene' thing...and how much it erks me...
ok. another brief history...just to make sure we're all on the same page...
i have been a music fan-a hardcore music fan-since around 1993-ish. i have been into punk since around 1994-ish...that's what 10-11 years? my punk experience was a little different then the gangs of kids with mohawks and bondage pants playing in bands and really living the subculture...i didn't know any punks. people like that, people like me, did not exist where i went to school. that, and my parents were incredibly strict, so basements shows and all those experiences were not part of my reality...the scene was never a scene for me. i thought punk existed in london, la and new york and so i listened alone in my basement having what i felt to be my own authentic punk rock experience-i was the loner...after junior high i wanted to have friends and i didn't want people to think i was the 'freak' so i changed...i did a total 180 and became the preppiest kid ever. obviously i wasn't happy, i hid the whole 'punk' thing away in headphone late at night and smoked way too much pot so i just didn't have to be an active part of my own deception...deep, i know but you think i knew that at the time? fuck no, i thought it was cool that i was stoned all the time and listening to rancid alone in my room...so i finished high school, and was finally able to accept myself and do what i love...so we cool... i like that i had that time, that experience and it's made me different then a lot of the punks my age who i see at shows...the number one difference: i hardly know a soul...
which brings me to my point...i don't know anyone at shows, except the person that i am there with...and so all these strangers are there, claiming to be part of a welcoming refuge for freaks and artists and miscreants (parts of which i am composed of...) and i find it to be the most exclusionary place...and here's why: being punk in edmonton in 2005 has fuck all to do with punk...or even music for that matter! the scene is about being seen in the coolest band t-shirt; it's about knowing the people in the band but not really giving a shit about their music. i really believe that most people don't like 'punk rock', they like indie rock, but love the punk seen...punk is nasty music and i can't believe cindy 'i-am-so-fucking-punk-in-my-diesel-bondage-pants' really likes listening to it...
now this of course doesn't refer to EVERYONE at the show except me. i don't claim to be anything i'm not and not everyone at the show is there for sly fashionista purposes (...but jesus i have never seen so many 'vintage' $400 blazers in my life) ... i just find it really fucking amusing when i go to a show and no one is there to hear the bands (which i am because i don't know anyone) and no one will talk to me at an event, defined through history, that is meant to be completely inclusive of all people otherwise excluded...
all of it-indecline, blazers, snobby bitches, punk, etc...-all of it makes me want to jump up onstage at new city one night, rip the microphone out of the singers hands and scream...'fuck you posers!!'
now that would be punk...i am just worried they'd all be mean to me, burn my blazer and kick me off indecline...
xo alice
Sunday, January 16, 2005
synergy and cross-promotion
hey hey...alice here, again, i just really can't get enough of this...all my thoughts out there for the world to read...i am sure the world doesn't read them but they're out there if the world was interested...
that being said i went to a movie tonight. before i tell you what it was i will also tell you that it didn't cost me anything...i had a free pass. when you read what i have to say you'll understand why i felt compelled to say that
so read on...
(p.s. this is not a review per say and i will ruin the film for you...)
this evening my sister and i partook in a little (BIG) movie called 'in good company'. plot wise i think the movie was about the following:
boy feels no love as a child, boy goes to college and gets business degree, boy advances quickly up the corporate ladder and makes tonnes o' cash, boy's wife leaves him and he flounders, has a quickie rebound relationship (what the ads make the movie look like it's about), finally boy learns that life isn't about money or corporate sloganeering (ie: synergy and cross-promotion...). he learns that you should only involve yourself in the high-stress corporate world if you really like it...the man who teaches him all of this...a man who truly loves it (after a very rousing speech about humans and team work etc...) happens to be older and surprisingly (?) wise...so boy finds his passion, old man has a baby and rebound girl enjoys her time at nyu...
basically.
on the surface i didn't hate this movie...it was cute. it made my heart a little happy and the male actors were able to express a healthy amount of physical affection for each other without the writers throwing in more than one gay joke (and the one that was in there came from the stereotypical "vp asshole" character...) it's funny but it seems that with big movies when men express physical affection for each other it is often accompanied by an excessive amount of macho bravado...not this time... so that was one good thing.
on the flip side i hated this movie and here's why: the whole point behind this movie, at least as i saw it, was 'don't buy into all that bullshit corporate propaganda...live your passion even if you'll never own a porsche...and even if you already own a porsche it's not too late...'; a message i'm all for, believe me. i am uncompromising in my 'live your passion' attitude and i will NEVER own a porsche... :)
now in order to make a movie such as this, all slick and glossy, you need money. and how do you get money? product placement! so this seemingly anti-corporate film in filled to the fucking brim with pepsi and porsche adds. our young hero at the peak of his game goes out and buys a porsche, followed immediately by a close-up sweeping shot of the candy blue porsche. later, at the low point of our hero's movie day, he has been punched in the face and hold an ice cold diet pepsi up to his throbbing eye...followed of course by a close up of the can sweaty with refreshing condensation...so denis quaid gets his 20mil. or whatever and i get thristy so i go out and buy an ice cold pepsi and perhaps tomorrow a porsche to satisfy my desire to appear heroic in the eyes of strangers...
and here's what i hated even more...
guten nacht internetland!
xo alice
that being said i went to a movie tonight. before i tell you what it was i will also tell you that it didn't cost me anything...i had a free pass. when you read what i have to say you'll understand why i felt compelled to say that
so read on...
(p.s. this is not a review per say and i will ruin the film for you...)
this evening my sister and i partook in a little (BIG) movie called 'in good company'. plot wise i think the movie was about the following:
boy feels no love as a child, boy goes to college and gets business degree, boy advances quickly up the corporate ladder and makes tonnes o' cash, boy's wife leaves him and he flounders, has a quickie rebound relationship (what the ads make the movie look like it's about), finally boy learns that life isn't about money or corporate sloganeering (ie: synergy and cross-promotion...). he learns that you should only involve yourself in the high-stress corporate world if you really like it...the man who teaches him all of this...a man who truly loves it (after a very rousing speech about humans and team work etc...) happens to be older and surprisingly (?) wise...so boy finds his passion, old man has a baby and rebound girl enjoys her time at nyu...
basically.
on the surface i didn't hate this movie...it was cute. it made my heart a little happy and the male actors were able to express a healthy amount of physical affection for each other without the writers throwing in more than one gay joke (and the one that was in there came from the stereotypical "vp asshole" character...) it's funny but it seems that with big movies when men express physical affection for each other it is often accompanied by an excessive amount of macho bravado...not this time... so that was one good thing.
on the flip side i hated this movie and here's why: the whole point behind this movie, at least as i saw it, was 'don't buy into all that bullshit corporate propaganda...live your passion even if you'll never own a porsche...and even if you already own a porsche it's not too late...'; a message i'm all for, believe me. i am uncompromising in my 'live your passion' attitude and i will NEVER own a porsche... :)
now in order to make a movie such as this, all slick and glossy, you need money. and how do you get money? product placement! so this seemingly anti-corporate film in filled to the fucking brim with pepsi and porsche adds. our young hero at the peak of his game goes out and buys a porsche, followed immediately by a close-up sweeping shot of the candy blue porsche. later, at the low point of our hero's movie day, he has been punched in the face and hold an ice cold diet pepsi up to his throbbing eye...followed of course by a close up of the can sweaty with refreshing condensation...so denis quaid gets his 20mil. or whatever and i get thristy so i go out and buy an ice cold pepsi and perhaps tomorrow a porsche to satisfy my desire to appear heroic in the eyes of strangers...
and here's what i hated even more...
anyone who knows me will tell you that i am huge music junkie...it's heroin for me...so i get really excited when i hear good music in a movie. this little (BIG) movie was full of GREAT music (iron and wine, the shins, damien rice, etc...), all the shit that the indie kids like me are all over; but the music was 100% inappropriate. they played one of the most beautiful pro-love songs in history as our heroic boy wonder's marriage was breaking up...all this music said to me was 'ah...another fine example of cross-promotion'...not, 'wow! that really enhanced that scene for me...'
allow me to explain:
according to howstuffworks.com (http://stuffo.howstuffworks.com/music-licensing.htm) music licensing is big time business and record companies are doing it all the time. see the record companies own the actual recording of the song and the artist retains the copyright on the lyrics and the music and the 'intellectual property' after a song is recorded and copywrited it can be sold to films or television or radio. here are some of the actual numbers as far as $$ goes:
-Low-end TV usage (e.g. -- music is playing from a jukebox in a scene, but no one in the scene is paying any attention to the music) -- free (for exposure) to $2,000 for a 5-year license. In a film, the fee would be $10,000 in perpetuity. [and that's low end...it can get up towards towards 1mil. +]
-A more popular song is worth more, perhaps $3,000 for TV and $25,000 for film.
-A song used as the theme song for a film might get $50,000 to $75,000.
Commercials fetch even more money: "a song can command anywhere from $25,000 to $500,000 plus per year. The typical range for a well-known song is $75,000 to $200,000 for a one year national usage in the United States, on television and radio."
it's all really fucked up to me...but i understand why an artist like sam beam or a lable like subpop would do it: they cannot compete with the 4 (yep, only 4-ish) major labels and it costs money to make art and perhaps better it come from 'art' then from say, a cigarette company...i dunno but... i just bugs the shit out of me when i go and watch a movie full of cool music and a pretty decent (albeit cheesy) message sold to me by pepsi and a cool indie lable...
fortunately i already have the albums that the 4 or 5 coolest songs came from...and (without meaning to sound like a HUGE snob...) i found them all on my own...(ugh, that was pretty snobby eh?)guten nacht internetland!
xo alice
Thursday, January 13, 2005
science fiction comes to life
hey hey. alice here with a little something important for all y'all out there in internet land.
the us and canadian governments are in negotions to create a missle defense system which would ultimately end with the weaponization of space which, aside from how ridiculous it actually sounds, is tantamount to a new (and far more devastating) arms race.
if you are a canadian, regardless of your party politics, please sign the petition at the following
http://douglas.ndp.ca/starwars/epetition.php
or do some research on your own. this scares the shit out of me and it should scare you too...it's amazing where people's minds can take them given even an iota of power.
and if you aren't a canadian do some research into your country's stance on this issue and take whatever steps you can to prevent this from happening...and it's close.
take care,
xo alice
the us and canadian governments are in negotions to create a missle defense system which would ultimately end with the weaponization of space which, aside from how ridiculous it actually sounds, is tantamount to a new (and far more devastating) arms race.
if you are a canadian, regardless of your party politics, please sign the petition at the following
http://douglas.ndp.ca/starwars/epetition.php
or do some research on your own. this scares the shit out of me and it should scare you too...it's amazing where people's minds can take them given even an iota of power.
and if you aren't a canadian do some research into your country's stance on this issue and take whatever steps you can to prevent this from happening...and it's close.
take care,
xo alice
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
true patriotic love...?
alice welcomes you once again and she is also offering up a little something new. we are worried that alice is perhaps getting slightly superficial in all her chats about pseudo-blind dates, best of lists and sappy, sad, cliche love letters and she's beginning to feel a little stupid. so here is something else.
(* louise, you've seen this before but i'm hoping there are other lovers out there in internet land who may stumble upon me one evening...)
"The fundamental question, though, is why people use Canadian patriotism as a protective cloak from American patriotism. Do they not see that while the colours may be different, the fabric remains essentially the same?....I rebut the argument that simply 'being better' than the United States of America (or 'American citizens') is...a cause for celebration - indeed, this is not a difficult achievement. In fact, if we measure how peaceful and just a given society is by using the United States as a yardstick, our moral compass is in need of significant returning. [...]"
Before i begin i would like to say that i love living in canada. i really love universal health care. in fact, if universal health care had sex organs i'd fuck it and if it was legal to marry an act of legislation i'd marry it.
i have recently began wondering, like the above, article, if being 'canadian' is all it's cracked up to be.
a couple of weeks ago i went to a show at the local dinner theatre for a staff christmas party. unbeknownst to me the show was a tribute to canadian pop stars and consequently also beer and shitty television. is that being canadian means? is that what being a citizen of any country means: paying homage to your national heritage by celebrating mediocre pop stars and bad beer? somehow i don't think so and when the show failed to acknowledge non-white performers i got a little uncomfortable. who the hell do we think we are? we forget so much of our own genocidal history and focus soley on peace-keeping and pop stars.
i recently had the pleasure of spending some time in the united states and meeting a lot of really cool people and when i got home and people asked me what the best part of my trip was and i say the time i spent in the states i get this, "but isn't it so fucked up there?" kind of look. and yeah, it's fucked up, no one is going to argue with me on that one...but it's still a place full of PEOPLE who are people regardless of their nationality.
in the grand scheme of things nationality is irrelevant. in the end, the fact that i am canadian is totally irrelevant. we've gotten cocky and it's turned us into ignorant/arrogant people. today it's not the kind of ignorance or arrogance that starts wars or commits genocide (as it was at the time of our colonial forefathers); but it's the kind of ignorance that makes us believe that we are somehow better and therefore entitled to something. all people are entitled to the same things as we are-we forget that-all the things that we take for granted are the simple rights that should be afforded to all people. instead of looking in the mirror at our own countries problem, we stand up and say "we're the best! we're better than americans! we're peace keepers! jim carrey is a canadian!!" fuck jim carrey!! People are being held in canadian jails for indefinite periods of time without trial; the premier of alberta is a bigot, homophobic, fascist money grubbing asshole...he is the george dubya of canada. when this exists how can we be the best. how can we even be considered better?
one need look only to the natural disaster in south east asia this past week to see that we are so much more than people under a flag, or a beer brand. we are citizens of a world connected by nature. nature destroys indiscriminately. when a tsunami kills over 100,000 people what does it matter where you are from. your brothers and sisters and their children are dying and will continue to die. how is living in "the best country in the world" going to prevent you from being affected by that. it's not.
being proud of where you live is not a bad thing. that is what patriotism should be. pride in where you're from demonstrated in such a way that you care for that place. it's patriotism at the expense of other people that becomes ridiculous. american's are not destroying the world. a certain administration's view of america and their resulting foreign policy is. that idea has nothing to do with joe average guy in omaha nebraska. shit, joe's the same as you, he just has a different passport-he eats and shits and cries when his dog gets hit by a bus the same as you would.
we've got to start looking beyond our national borders and look at the people. we are citizens of a big fucking planet, not a tiny little country...
what more can i say...thank god for health care and i will be the first person on the steps of the legislature the day ralph attempts to take it away from me...(or the next time he tries would be a more accurate statement.)
also: i am listening to this amazing band i just discovered that i know nothing about: american analog set...check 'em out!!
(* louise, you've seen this before but i'm hoping there are other lovers out there in internet land who may stumble upon me one evening...)
"The fundamental question, though, is why people use Canadian patriotism as a protective cloak from American patriotism. Do they not see that while the colours may be different, the fabric remains essentially the same?....I rebut the argument that simply 'being better' than the United States of America (or 'American citizens') is...a cause for celebration - indeed, this is not a difficult achievement. In fact, if we measure how peaceful and just a given society is by using the United States as a yardstick, our moral compass is in need of significant returning. [...]"
Before i begin i would like to say that i love living in canada. i really love universal health care. in fact, if universal health care had sex organs i'd fuck it and if it was legal to marry an act of legislation i'd marry it.
i have recently began wondering, like the above, article, if being 'canadian' is all it's cracked up to be.
a couple of weeks ago i went to a show at the local dinner theatre for a staff christmas party. unbeknownst to me the show was a tribute to canadian pop stars and consequently also beer and shitty television. is that being canadian means? is that what being a citizen of any country means: paying homage to your national heritage by celebrating mediocre pop stars and bad beer? somehow i don't think so and when the show failed to acknowledge non-white performers i got a little uncomfortable. who the hell do we think we are? we forget so much of our own genocidal history and focus soley on peace-keeping and pop stars.
i recently had the pleasure of spending some time in the united states and meeting a lot of really cool people and when i got home and people asked me what the best part of my trip was and i say the time i spent in the states i get this, "but isn't it so fucked up there?" kind of look. and yeah, it's fucked up, no one is going to argue with me on that one...but it's still a place full of PEOPLE who are people regardless of their nationality.
in the grand scheme of things nationality is irrelevant. in the end, the fact that i am canadian is totally irrelevant. we've gotten cocky and it's turned us into ignorant/arrogant people. today it's not the kind of ignorance or arrogance that starts wars or commits genocide (as it was at the time of our colonial forefathers); but it's the kind of ignorance that makes us believe that we are somehow better and therefore entitled to something. all people are entitled to the same things as we are-we forget that-all the things that we take for granted are the simple rights that should be afforded to all people. instead of looking in the mirror at our own countries problem, we stand up and say "we're the best! we're better than americans! we're peace keepers! jim carrey is a canadian!!" fuck jim carrey!! People are being held in canadian jails for indefinite periods of time without trial; the premier of alberta is a bigot, homophobic, fascist money grubbing asshole...he is the george dubya of canada. when this exists how can we be the best. how can we even be considered better?
one need look only to the natural disaster in south east asia this past week to see that we are so much more than people under a flag, or a beer brand. we are citizens of a world connected by nature. nature destroys indiscriminately. when a tsunami kills over 100,000 people what does it matter where you are from. your brothers and sisters and their children are dying and will continue to die. how is living in "the best country in the world" going to prevent you from being affected by that. it's not.
being proud of where you live is not a bad thing. that is what patriotism should be. pride in where you're from demonstrated in such a way that you care for that place. it's patriotism at the expense of other people that becomes ridiculous. american's are not destroying the world. a certain administration's view of america and their resulting foreign policy is. that idea has nothing to do with joe average guy in omaha nebraska. shit, joe's the same as you, he just has a different passport-he eats and shits and cries when his dog gets hit by a bus the same as you would.
we've got to start looking beyond our national borders and look at the people. we are citizens of a big fucking planet, not a tiny little country...
what more can i say...thank god for health care and i will be the first person on the steps of the legislature the day ralph attempts to take it away from me...(or the next time he tries would be a more accurate statement.)
please see full article: 'canadians have no reason to feel proud' at http://resist.ca/story/2004/12/22/2009/3774 by samir hussain writing in Znet on december 14, 2004
xo alice.also: i am listening to this amazing band i just discovered that i know nothing about: american analog set...check 'em out!!
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
big fat stinky liar
the internet is a big fat stinky liar...
actually, what i meant to say was that the internet allows people to only approximate their personalities without being forced to reveal basic truths...
'oh alice,' you're probably thinking, 'what brings on this sudden revelation?'
well, dear reader, i will tell you. last night i met up with someone whom i had met over the internet. it was not a date, let's just clear that up, but it did have a slightly blind-datey feel to it, as does any meeting with someone you don't know and you had to do the whole 'what do you look like' thing...anyhow, i met up with this guy who is doing some work for me (see post about rejection if you wonder what i do...) and to meet him, based on the first impression i had of his emails, left me a little bewildered.
when i say that the internet is a 'big fat stinky liar' i don't mean that in a negative way...i just mean it can skew your opinion. this guy was amazing: smart, excited about the project...three steps ahead of me...but he wasn't his emails and that is why the internet lies...
so keeping that in mind how much of what you know about me is true? very little i suppose. sure some of you actually know me so you know what is untrue but others stumble upon me and believe what i tell them because the internet doesn't lie. And the internet doesn't lie but it approximates, it gives the best picture of a person it can...it allows you to approximate yourself.
You know what i love, i love being shocked when the approximation doesn't live up to how amazing the person actually is...
enjoy my continued approximations.
xo alice
actually, what i meant to say was that the internet allows people to only approximate their personalities without being forced to reveal basic truths...
'oh alice,' you're probably thinking, 'what brings on this sudden revelation?'
well, dear reader, i will tell you. last night i met up with someone whom i had met over the internet. it was not a date, let's just clear that up, but it did have a slightly blind-datey feel to it, as does any meeting with someone you don't know and you had to do the whole 'what do you look like' thing...anyhow, i met up with this guy who is doing some work for me (see post about rejection if you wonder what i do...) and to meet him, based on the first impression i had of his emails, left me a little bewildered.
when i say that the internet is a 'big fat stinky liar' i don't mean that in a negative way...i just mean it can skew your opinion. this guy was amazing: smart, excited about the project...three steps ahead of me...but he wasn't his emails and that is why the internet lies...
so keeping that in mind how much of what you know about me is true? very little i suppose. sure some of you actually know me so you know what is untrue but others stumble upon me and believe what i tell them because the internet doesn't lie. And the internet doesn't lie but it approximates, it gives the best picture of a person it can...it allows you to approximate yourself.
You know what i love, i love being shocked when the approximation doesn't live up to how amazing the person actually is...
enjoy my continued approximations.
xo alice
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
prepare to be judged
currently it is my job to judge people. i had to do it for two hours tonight. i don't like it. it's the one part of doing the thing that i love that i don't love.
sure, i am like most people and spend my days in silent judgement of others; but these silent judgements never result in a telephone call going something like this:
alice: hey is jane there?
jane: this is jane.
alice: heya jane! alice here. how are you?
jane: great you.
alice: (aside) aw sweet fuck, great? now i have to ruin that? (back to jane) so whatcha up to tonight?
jane: oh, i am going to see wednesday night heroes at new city tonight. you?
alice: (aside) fuck! and now i have to see her. (back) cool. me too.
jane: so...
alice: so...
jane: well, you called...
alice: right. listen jane i wanted to thank you so much for coming in this afternoon but you have been judged to suck ass.
jane: ok. well i will see you later.
alice: yeah. bye. hey and come see the show when we open ok?
jane: fuck you.
alice: what?
jane: yeah ok. bye.
click...
alice: hello?
you get the idea, and while i would never say, 'you've been judged to suck ass' saying, ' i just don't have a part for you' feels like i am saying, 'you suck ass' because no matter how unsucky you actually are you always feel sucky when rejected. such is the nature of life.
i have felt this sucky feeling many times-too many to count anymore- but i have learned something over the years and years of rejection at the hands of tyrants who feel their cannot be realised with my puny little talents; i have learned that it's not your fault. don't take it personally. talent is innate. you suck. move on.
just kidding.
xo alice
sure, i am like most people and spend my days in silent judgement of others; but these silent judgements never result in a telephone call going something like this:
alice: hey is jane there?
jane: this is jane.
alice: heya jane! alice here. how are you?
jane: great you.
alice: (aside) aw sweet fuck, great? now i have to ruin that? (back to jane) so whatcha up to tonight?
jane: oh, i am going to see wednesday night heroes at new city tonight. you?
alice: (aside) fuck! and now i have to see her. (back) cool. me too.
jane: so...
alice: so...
jane: well, you called...
alice: right. listen jane i wanted to thank you so much for coming in this afternoon but you have been judged to suck ass.
jane: ok. well i will see you later.
alice: yeah. bye. hey and come see the show when we open ok?
jane: fuck you.
alice: what?
jane: yeah ok. bye.
click...
alice: hello?
you get the idea, and while i would never say, 'you've been judged to suck ass' saying, ' i just don't have a part for you' feels like i am saying, 'you suck ass' because no matter how unsucky you actually are you always feel sucky when rejected. such is the nature of life.
i have felt this sucky feeling many times-too many to count anymore- but i have learned something over the years and years of rejection at the hands of tyrants who feel their cannot be realised with my puny little talents; i have learned that it's not your fault. don't take it personally. talent is innate. you suck. move on.
just kidding.
xo alice
Monday, January 03, 2005
evil evil evil evil
i have spent some time with my television recently. we hadn't seen eachother for a while. for a while we weren't really getting along to well. tonight i buried the hatchet, turned the stereo off, put my maximum rock'n'roll down and absorbed into my couch for a day (or almost a day) of much music. here's what i learned:
jessica and ashlee (ashlee? why not ashley) simpson are evil, evil, evil. evil, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid girls. i know everyone knows this. duh, how could you not? you'd have to be evil and stupid. but here's the thing...
i can't look away. i am afraid that if i blink i might miss a moment of stupidity and feel totally out of place with my pop-culture loving peer group. it's like a car crash. you don't want to look because you know there are intestines all over the highway but you can't help yourself...they aren't your intestines.
on tonight's episode of jessica: she ate some tuna.
on tonight's episode of ashlee: she signed some cd's and complained about how hard her life is. poor baby was tired.
and i watched this shit for an hour...more than an hour if you count pimp my ride and all the other shit. me and my cosmo magazine can now fit in at parties. we know about the "chicken of the sea" and why it's the funniest thing ever. and i was busy reading about cool bands, i am so glad i got over that one.
i was worried there for a second.
xo alice
jessica and ashlee (ashlee? why not ashley) simpson are evil, evil, evil. evil, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid girls. i know everyone knows this. duh, how could you not? you'd have to be evil and stupid. but here's the thing...
i can't look away. i am afraid that if i blink i might miss a moment of stupidity and feel totally out of place with my pop-culture loving peer group. it's like a car crash. you don't want to look because you know there are intestines all over the highway but you can't help yourself...they aren't your intestines.
on tonight's episode of jessica: she ate some tuna.
on tonight's episode of ashlee: she signed some cd's and complained about how hard her life is. poor baby was tired.
and i watched this shit for an hour...more than an hour if you count pimp my ride and all the other shit. me and my cosmo magazine can now fit in at parties. we know about the "chicken of the sea" and why it's the funniest thing ever. and i was busy reading about cool bands, i am so glad i got over that one.
i was worried there for a second.
xo alice
Sunday, January 02, 2005
dear john
a little purge is a good thing now and again. you can't wrap yourself in sadness everyday so it's best to get it out...
dear john,
i was struck this evening, as i often am, by a wave a ceaseless deja vu.
it was snowing as i stepped outside from the neon warmth of the movie theatre. do you remember that night? the only difference about tonight is that i am not crying.
i was so embarrassed. i cried so much that night. so much that i don't remember you saying anything or hugging me goodbye. i think you didn't comfort me that night because you knew. it changed things between us. my tears changed things between us.
i remember every other touch.
the worst part of this kind of honesty is the loneliness. i love you and you love her. a shitty cliche and i am living it. another cliche? i have loved you since the first moment we spoke.
i imagine you missing her, touching her shoulder, kissing her eyelids. i never imagine myself in her place. instead i wait (uselessly) for the moment when you realise you wish it were my eyelids you were kissing, my shoulder you were touching, me you were missing. a masochistic fantasy at best.
if i am being realistic and honest, which i struggling to be here john, i realise that i probably never cross your mind. amid the joy of creating, longing for her, and living the life you always wanted and deserved to live i must get lost by the wayside. i took your mind off the shittiness of being here over a latte for two hours every fourth thursday. i validate your feeling shitty about everything and kept silent about the ache in my heart and my overwhelming desire to jump off a bridge. i wanted to drown myself in a puddle every time you mentioned how wonderful she is/was. another time when you weren't thinking of me.
i thought of you. i think of you. each breath is a thought of you. every time i exhale i pull the next breath in as quickly as i can to hold onto you a little longer.
i hate that i love you. in doing so i betray my own borders. it's treasonous. it's cheesy and i hate myself for turning into a movie-of-the-week. but i do it. i love you more and more and the more it hurts the more i want to love you. i want to love you. i want to have the scars that wanting you have given me. with scars i can prove that i have loved. ah, the fucking cliche!
i thought i'd be crying by now. there have been few tears. i thought they'd come now and they hint at it, like a dry heave, but they never come. instead they come on snowy nights outside a movie theatre, outside a house with arms inside i longed to be in. in those arms i'd never cry.
i keep coming back to that night last year. Maybe because tonight looked like that night but also because it was that night that i realised i loved you. not only that i loved you but something far sadder, far more distressing, far more horribly cliche. sitting in that theatre listening to that actress say that she's become the witch of her own fairy tale ...HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT!! I died because i knew that i would love you forever. that i would be (at least partly) stuck forever in the fantasy, the fairy tale , that someday we'll meet again and you'll love me the way i loved you since that first night we spoke.
what are you thinking reading this? are you alone and thinking 'how pathetic. she should know better' (and i do); or is she there reading over your shoulder, her hands on your back, sharing a moment, a kiss and a laugh at my expense? falling even deeper in love with each passing word?
i don't know what to do.
i was thinking about the highway the other day. about that night. about you driving my car. about you driving my car in nothing.
do you remember that night? i was so scared. i was seeing things on the road and in the future that weren't there. we went long stretches of prairie highway without speaking and the silence never felt awkward. it felt full. full of...love (?) I saw that same full silence years later. i saw us along the prairie highway and i saw animals in the road and the car heading towards us and i wanted to jump out. i'm not sure i have ever been so afraid.
i know i have never been that sad.
i know i have never been this sad.
i don't know what to do, john. i have so much to say but i don't have the words. i'm too scared.
there are songs, of course there are songs but it's a cop out and i cannot hijack someone else's words to make up for what i lack.
my side aches and i cannot believe i'm not crying; tears would feel good right now. but they aren't coming and i don't feel well. so i'll go. i'll write more. i am plagued by the memory of you walking away from the car before i got on the road to the airport. i had to get away from you. i can't forget and all i can do it write. i hope i'll get to be loved like this sometime.
wishing i could say goodbye,
yours, alice
wow, that was a bit long.
xo alice
i have wanted to send this letter for as long as i can remember. i don't have the guts.
thank god for the protection of anonymity.
dear john,
i was struck this evening, as i often am, by a wave a ceaseless deja vu.
it was snowing as i stepped outside from the neon warmth of the movie theatre. do you remember that night? the only difference about tonight is that i am not crying.
i was so embarrassed. i cried so much that night. so much that i don't remember you saying anything or hugging me goodbye. i think you didn't comfort me that night because you knew. it changed things between us. my tears changed things between us.
i remember every other touch.
the worst part of this kind of honesty is the loneliness. i love you and you love her. a shitty cliche and i am living it. another cliche? i have loved you since the first moment we spoke.
i imagine you missing her, touching her shoulder, kissing her eyelids. i never imagine myself in her place. instead i wait (uselessly) for the moment when you realise you wish it were my eyelids you were kissing, my shoulder you were touching, me you were missing. a masochistic fantasy at best.
if i am being realistic and honest, which i struggling to be here john, i realise that i probably never cross your mind. amid the joy of creating, longing for her, and living the life you always wanted and deserved to live i must get lost by the wayside. i took your mind off the shittiness of being here over a latte for two hours every fourth thursday. i validate your feeling shitty about everything and kept silent about the ache in my heart and my overwhelming desire to jump off a bridge. i wanted to drown myself in a puddle every time you mentioned how wonderful she is/was. another time when you weren't thinking of me.
i thought of you. i think of you. each breath is a thought of you. every time i exhale i pull the next breath in as quickly as i can to hold onto you a little longer.
i hate that i love you. in doing so i betray my own borders. it's treasonous. it's cheesy and i hate myself for turning into a movie-of-the-week. but i do it. i love you more and more and the more it hurts the more i want to love you. i want to love you. i want to have the scars that wanting you have given me. with scars i can prove that i have loved. ah, the fucking cliche!
i thought i'd be crying by now. there have been few tears. i thought they'd come now and they hint at it, like a dry heave, but they never come. instead they come on snowy nights outside a movie theatre, outside a house with arms inside i longed to be in. in those arms i'd never cry.
i keep coming back to that night last year. Maybe because tonight looked like that night but also because it was that night that i realised i loved you. not only that i loved you but something far sadder, far more distressing, far more horribly cliche. sitting in that theatre listening to that actress say that she's become the witch of her own fairy tale ...HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT!! I died because i knew that i would love you forever. that i would be (at least partly) stuck forever in the fantasy, the fairy tale , that someday we'll meet again and you'll love me the way i loved you since that first night we spoke.
what are you thinking reading this? are you alone and thinking 'how pathetic. she should know better' (and i do); or is she there reading over your shoulder, her hands on your back, sharing a moment, a kiss and a laugh at my expense? falling even deeper in love with each passing word?
i don't know what to do.
i was thinking about the highway the other day. about that night. about you driving my car. about you driving my car in nothing.
do you remember that night? i was so scared. i was seeing things on the road and in the future that weren't there. we went long stretches of prairie highway without speaking and the silence never felt awkward. it felt full. full of...love (?) I saw that same full silence years later. i saw us along the prairie highway and i saw animals in the road and the car heading towards us and i wanted to jump out. i'm not sure i have ever been so afraid.
i know i have never been that sad.
i know i have never been this sad.
i don't know what to do, john. i have so much to say but i don't have the words. i'm too scared.
there are songs, of course there are songs but it's a cop out and i cannot hijack someone else's words to make up for what i lack.
my side aches and i cannot believe i'm not crying; tears would feel good right now. but they aren't coming and i don't feel well. so i'll go. i'll write more. i am plagued by the memory of you walking away from the car before i got on the road to the airport. i had to get away from you. i can't forget and all i can do it write. i hope i'll get to be loved like this sometime.
wishing i could say goodbye,
yours, alice
wow, that was a bit long.
xo alice
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