Stuff I Know

Homes should be decorated with ancient maps, rock&roll inspires people to dress fashionably, chicken curry is the ultimate comfort food, androgynous people are capable of seducing anybody, our fear of the unknown can manifest itself in our fear of death, the Dalai Lama eats meat, the skeletal system is the most erotic part of the human body, dogs make the best therapists, imagination is a fundamental component of human sexuality, and reading is an affordable alternative to traveling.

Does anyone else have this problem?

I have a worrisome penchant for falling in love with literary characters. For example, I am convinced that Levin from Anna Karenina is my soulmate. Needless to say, this is quite frustrating.

Shuck this fit.

If life were graded, I would totally expect to fail. However, I would be upset if I didn't get an A for effort.

Danny Trejo: My Celebrity Crush

He tends to portray characters that are an irresistible combination of honorable and badass. Also, it's pretty sick that he is an ex-con who managed to turn his life around.

I just realized that the Pixies are easily my favorite band. I am literally always in the mood to hear anything by them, and I inevitably feel much better about life in general after doing so. It's crazy how every time I listen to one of their songs, my ears prick up and are all like "Whoa, what was that noise?! And what did that lyric mean? We [Ramona's ears] have never felt this way before...it'...s as if some part of us that was hidden so deep within our canals we never even knew it existed has been awoken from its apathy-induced slumber. Oh my, it feels as though this irresistable melody has caused our drums to explode, blasting away all that icky wax that had built up inside of us--and boy, does it feel good! What IS this magical noise?? Must. Hear. More!"

 

Here is one of my favorite Pixie songs:

Hangovers: Too Many Beers vs. Too Many Tears

I recently discovered that a broken heart can lead to an unbelievably nasty hangover. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep so hard that you woke up feeling dizzy and nauseous with a relentlessly pounding headache? The only difference being, this type of hangover is impervious to the normally-effective coffee&painkiller remedy.

It is a bizarre feeling when one is no longer able to distinguish between one's dreams and one's waking life, as both possess an unmistakeably-nightmarish sense of déjà vu. At the risk of being labeled as a self-important ass who feels inexplicably compelled to blog about every pointless detail of my dreams, I will attempt to describe one of the several nightmares I had last night, hopefully making it seem less real in the process.

My teeth begin to rot and crumble, exposing their soft, black cores as they fall out one by one. I easily pull the last few out from my infected gums; they are already so loose, it does not even hurt. Frightened, I tell my parents, and they take me to the hospital, where they take samples from my mouth and perform countless tests. The doctors tell me that I have a life-threatening disease and that they must operate immediately. I am hooked up to fluid-pumping tubes that cover my entire body; there is even one attached to each of my toes. The doctors force me to inhale a gas with a sickeningly-sweet chemical smell. I feel myself slipping into a hazy, dreamlike state, and yet the pain is very real as they begin to slice open my grotesquely flapping gums with their scalpels, removing all the remaining shards of tooth. There is red everywhere. I regain consciousness (or maybe I actually wake up from my dream--it is hard to say), only to have the breath knocked out of me by an overwhelming sense of loss and abandonment. I scream for help, and the doctors tell me that the operation was a failure and that I am dying from loss of blood. I turn to look at the hospital bed next to mine and see my cat Reggie and my parent's dog Parker lying there, their tiny bodies also covered in tubes. They tell me they have caught my disease. Sobbing uncontrollably, I realize that they, too, have been abandoned.

Just a thought, but...

Does being self-destructive go hand-in-hand with having a self-deprecating sense of humor? I hate to make sweeping generalizations based solely on personal experience, but it's hard not to when something makes such logical sense to me! Any thoughts?