Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Melancholy and the Infinite Patience

When Angela Has insomnia, everybody suffers.

2am-

Me:Why are you on the floor?

Guy: you told me to get out of bed.

Me:You don't want to sleep with me anymore because I'm too fat???

Guy:I do want to sleep with you because I love you, and you screamed if I didn't get out of bed you would call the police.

Me:I can't believe the first thing you say to me when I wake up is that I'm fat.

Guy:Can I get back in bed?

3:30am-

Me:hey.

silence.

HEY

Guy:Wha?

Me:Why aren't you speaking to me anymore???? do you want to leave me for a man????

Guy: Uh...I was asleep.

Me:Why is the window open???? Is my fat suffocating you so much that you have to open the window????

Guy:You opened the window last night cause you said it was stuffy.

Me: Did you open the window so that everyone in the neighborhood would hear us having sex and think I'm a whore?????

Guy: We didn't even have sex.

Me:oh.

can you please close the window sweetie?

4am-

Guy:hey....What the hell are you doing on the phone??

Me:er...nothing....

Guy:Give me that- why are you calling planned parenthood? In the middle of the night?

Me:I need my annual pap smear!

Guy: Go to SLEEP!!!

(20 minutes later)

Me: Hey, guy, I just came up with a choose your own adventure novel I'm gonna write, and you're the main character.

Guy:mmhmm.

Me:Wanna hear it? Ok, so, its you and shelly and you guys work at a pizza parlor...

Guy:Whos Shelly?

Me: I'm getting there! so, Shelly is this big dykey girl, whos like 6'2 and 290lbs, and she has a honey-colored mullet and a marine world t-shirt and she wears bonnie bell lip-smackers like everyday. anyways, so one day you guys are working late at the pizza parlor, and you realize that the last bus left an hour before you were off work, and you're like FUCK cause now you have to walk home in the dark, and shelly is like 'don't worry guy, ill give you a ride home' and you're all 'thanks shelly!' so you guys get in her car and as you drive further and further you realize 'hey this isn't the way to my house...' and she drives out into a field in the middle of nowhere and stops her volvo and leans over your waifish body and reeks of pepperoni and lip-smackers, and she growls 'put out or get out!'. Turn to page 9 to put out. Turn to page 11 to- put out.

Guy:Wait, what happened to get out??

Me: Not an option.

Guy: you cant say put out or get out and not make get out an option!

Me: (sigh) FINE, Turn to page 12 to get out.

Guy. Ok. What happens?

Me: You put out.

Silence.

Guy:I don't think I like where this is going.

Me: hee hee hee

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Depression is Colorblind

Being depressed turns everyday things- or fun things, things I used to enjoy- into misery.

The morning walk of misery.

The Starbucks of misery.

Bed Bath and Beyond and misery.

The Adult section at my local video store of misery.

Finding the only black guy to go home with in Santa Maria and then realizing I can't cause my mom gave me a ride to the bar and I have to call her to pick me up too so I just do him in the bathroom of misery.

DAMN YOU DEPRESSION- IS NOTHING SACRED?????

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Sooner or Later, We All Sleep Alone

I remember when I was living in Culver City in a house with 4 male roommates, and I was sleeping with the one that lived in the room next to mine. He said he loved me, but wouldn’t leave his girlfriend, cause you know, he felt bad. One night I was up, chopping up lines with a straight razor in bed, when I heard him and his girlfriend fucking next door. This made me very mad so I took the straight razor and sliced open my arm. I shrugged and put a towel on it, laid down and fell asleep. The next morning my bed was soaked in blood, and I was late for school. I went to the bathroom and the only bandaids were these mini pokemon bandaids, so I used like 5 to try and paste my arm back together, but there were still glistening bulges between each of the little pokemon bandaids. A couple of my roommates looked at my arm while they ate breakfast, and I smiled and said good morning. This may have been when they decided I should move out. But, it could have been before that.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

I Removed Myself From Mainstream Society and All I Got Were these Lousy Designer Jeans


So for the past few months I have been lying low. I was feeling creative, but now I'm not. I just feel celibate. Sometimes bulimic.
I'm suffering from Celibulimia.
Whateves. I was in a situation that I hated, that involved a worthless job, worthless boy, and worthless substances, all of which have now turned to nothing. I will be glad for them to stay that way.
I don't know what Im doing with my life, but its good to know that I now don't know what everyone else didn't know all along.
also, I found this:
www.blakeanddylan.com
and such is the circle of life.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Or Was it "Matt and Ben"? I Can't Remember...

When I turned 23, my boyfriend got me tickets to see a play called "Ben and Matt" for my birthday. It was a play where two girls performed the parts of Ben Affleck and Matt Damon before they had become famous.
Before the play, he took me out to dinner at a nice restaurant on Robertson Blvd, and told me to only order the soup, only half-jokingly, because he was poor. So, I ordered a small, inexpensive appetizer, to be nice. He ordered himself a steak.
I'm not sure if I'd be able to accurately describe the depths of the fury that I felt at that moment. So I won't try. Instead, I'll just describe how I, in turn, ordered three $18 martinis and drank them slowly, staring at him, not saying a word.
We were late for the play. After the play I yelled at him and he cried and said I was an alcoholic. I cried and said he was a cheap fuck, and he loved steak more than me (It wouldn't be until later that I would realize how I couldn't really be mad at him for that.) Then, we made out and he said 'baby for your birthday, lets go to Mexico and get you some Prozac'. I guess he thought If I took Prozac I wouldn't be crazy and yell at him anymore( It wouldn't be until later that he would realize just how wrong he was about that.)
So that night we drove south and stopped in San Diego and parked in a lot that overlooked an IHOP and leaned our seats back to sleep. There wasn't enough room to do it, so I let him feel me up while he jacked off, and as I looked over his hand jerking up and down at the bright blue lights of the International House of Pancakes, I thought that I should write about this sometime.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Shit To Do

Why, May I ask, does having a life neccessarily have to entail other people?
I ask this because always, always at work they assume I can come in early. I'm the can come in early girl. I have no husband, no kids. Apparantly, I have no life, so I can pretty much do whatever.
It isn't always so for men. My boyfriend's have always had better things to do, whether that be playing pool or taking naps...but how come, as a single WOMAN, when I have no family or child or husband, I automatically have nothing else to do? Why do I have no life, just because I have no life based on others?
Don't get me wrong. Being a mother or a wife- thats important, time consuming- but what about the dudes? They have to make their "beats", or do their art or play their banjo or write their screenplays... when I do these things its just considered "Drunk Angela"...nevermind how true that may or may not be, but I guess in doing anything fostering any other goal than being Mrs. Angela Fillintheblank makes me open and free for anything cause its not like I have important shit to do.
A boyfriend once told me he couldn't go to my brother's wedding because he had important things to do, and I saw him later that day walking to the laundromat with an armload of dirty underwear in one hand and the original Star Wars Trilogy in the other. And, no, it wasn't that he was "just not that into me"- he genuinely felt he had very important things to accomplish in his mind, and really, I can't fault him. But I could NEVER get away with that shit. If my boss asked me to come in early cause her kid was getting baptized, and I refused and was later spotted skipping down the street with a vibrator and old episodes of Full House tucked under my arm, I know for a fact there would be hell to pay.
JUST SAYIN.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Guide to Managing your Financials

I live in downtown Sacramento.
I hate working , cause like most shit, its simultaneously gay and gayer, which is why I am on paid leave for my carpal tunnel syndrome. I used to work at a clothing store I won't mention(FUCK YOU URBAN OUTFITTERS), but I liked not going too much, and eventually they decided to give me paid leave, cause if they fired me they were afraid I'd do something all Taliban-y. What EVES!
Anyhow…$146 is about what I get per week. This averages around 580 dollars a month. Which, according to Oprah, is poverty level. But I don't abuse the system like some of those ghetto people, oh no. In fact, I think 580 dollars a month is a fine income. If people don't have running water its their own fault. But maybe they need guidance, I'm thinking, so I'm gonna do a monetary breakdown of my monthly spending in order to show people how to not be poverterous in these hard times, cause obviously everyone is retarded and can't do it themselves.
My financial breakdown:
Rent:$175
Ok, so I live in the most expensive state in the US, and I still only pay 175 in rent in a major metro area. How, you ask? No no, im no squatter. Gross. Granted, I used to eat my old roommates leftover in-n-out from the garbage, but only when it was (near) the top of the trash, and even then I stopped cause it was starting to give me low self-esteem. So anyways, the thing is, when I moved in with my last boyfriend our apartment was 700 a month for a studio. He told me I just had to give him 175 a month, and I thought wow he's so generous paying the rest. But in reality, the entire rent was automatically indefinitely deducted each month from his parents checking account. So, really, I was just paying him 175 a month for sex so he could spend it all to buy weed from our neighbors while he didn't actually pay any of the bill himself. However, when we broke up and he moved out, he decided he didn't want to work and still wanted my 175 dollars a month, so we agreed to not tell his parents, I still give him his 175, he still gets his weed, and he sleeps in some gay dudes garage for free.
I'm no Suze Orman, but if everyone would just follow this same route, we wouldn't need welfare housing, ya know?
Moving on.
Alcohol: $0-$405:
This is a necessity thats always changing. Depending on how many people I blow per month, I may not have to spend any money. But if im being a prudish bitch, then usually about half of the rest of my paycheck that is left over after rent ($202.50) is crumpled and shoved in my pocket, and fairly depleted after a few days. The other $202.50 I keep in an ashtray by my plethora of expired birthcontrol and old NYLON magazines, or as I like to call it, my 401k. My 401k may or may not last for the entire month, depending on how distracted I am by defunct articles about Six Feet Under, or how intimately I feel I need to know Chloe Sevigniy. (FYI: this usually ranges from moderate to extreme intimacy)
Drugs(non-alcohol):$50-$150
Now, this varies on a month to month basis as well. Normally, I'll use my 401k to fund an 8-ball, which, depending on your dealer, can run you from $110 all the way to $175. The thing is, the quality of Sacramento coke is all fairly consistent in its shittiness, so I'd recommend getting it through the 110 guy. But sometimes I won't buy drugs at all. Like, I'll go through my 'puritan' months, or my 'don't feel like getting my stomach pumped' months, and I won't buy any.
However, these months often cause my alcohol bill to be around $2,994.00.
Ok, at this point you may notice that 2,994 dollars is a little over my earnings. This is where plan B(or the plan that has actually been in the back of my head the whole time but I wont admit it) comes in. I call my mom and tell her that I need 700 dollars for rent that my evil pothead ex screwed me out of (teehee), and then I go to Longs Drugs on 17th and K St. and I pick up the 700 dollars from money-gram. Then I call her again, and I tell her that I also just found out that he actually screwed me for rent for the previous two months, from buying so much pot, and he will probly screw me for rent the next month too, so she should send me money for that just to be safe. Can you believe that pothead. And then she'll agree, cause she is a highschool teacher and knows that pot is a gateway drug. Hes probly on crack too she'll say, and then I'll just nod even though she can't see me through the phone and I'll say I can't believe I was ever so stupid to be involved with such a loser and I'll cry and she'll be all don't beat yourself up honey, girl power! And then I'll feel better when I walk back down to the Longs to get my next money-gram.
Now I've received a total net income of $2,800. Add in my left over 401k, and I have $3,002.50. When you take out my alcohol bill, I have a total of $8.50 left for the month. That's what I call Macroeconomics.
Dollar Sushi Night: $8.50
Lastly, I enjoy going out for dollar sushi hand-roll night with my friends. With beers at $3.25 a pop, I get a couple with a couple of rolls, and what a rockin night out! And economical too!

So, my crackhead minority-ridden peers, there you have it. You don't need to make much money to survive, you just have to be smart about it. Granted, sometimes people in poverty are in poverty because they have kids or some shit, but just minus out the dollar sushi night to buy diapers and you're fine. I mean, children are the future and whatnot, you selfish fucks. Anyways, even though it may not always be easy, getting through these recession-laden times IS doable with a little bit of discipline and a whole lot of proper planning. Good luck!(vote obama)

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

An Open Letter To the Fat Bitch Supervisor at Von's in Nipomo

Dear Fat Bitch Supervisor at Von's in Nipomo:
I had my printed license, ATM card AND passport, plus my own haggard mug right there in person, and you still wouldn't let me buy my wine. All I wanted, after my long long day of work and gym and walking over a mile from the bus stop, was a nice glass of wine. So, I hope for justice's sake that one day when you are in the same situation(minus the gym or walking parts, for those are obviously situations you are never in) that some wide-assed bucked-toothed back-woods Code Red Mountain Dew drinking Bacon Club Chalupa gorging "Management Material" denies you your one and only pleasure in lieu of some bureaucratic bullshit instilled in you during your paid training at the only job you've ever had, and when some toothless skinny methed out fuck mounts you at your cousin's party you can pass along the legacy to your daughter who will undoubtedly be named Krystal or Cheyenne or Nevaeh(its heaven backwards you know) cause those names are classy, see.
Much love,
Angela

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Sweet Valley vs. Olsen

I picked up a Mervyn's Catalog the other day and was reminded of my childhood...I had wanted to be a child model so badly. I was like ten. My mom, not wanting to seem the stage mother, said she would support me in my endeavors, but only if I myself would follow through.
I never would.
One day she said she had even sent in my pictures, because I think I begged her to and and Mervyn's wanted me for an ad campaign but, she wanted me to the one to follow through...Its strange. Why did she expect so much from me at the time? Even now, at the age of 27, she offers to do my homework.
But maybe this was the moment, the moment she realized trying to make me self sufficient was useless. I love that moment. The moment of realization.
I've seen it on countless faces; friends, lovers, family members, customer service representitives....
I dont know. This may not have been the moment. But probably, cause I saw the look.
Anyways, I was supposed to call these model people.
I remember just staring at my mom, then going to my room, reading my Sweet Valley Twin Novelettes, and lulling myself to sleep with excessive youthful masturbation that really had nothing to do with sex because i didn't know what sex was at the time.
I just re-read this last sentance, and i guess it must be true: Nothing does ever change. Ever.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Craigslist Ad

Hi! My name is Angela and I’m looking for a roommate in the Pismo/San Luis Obispo area. Males preferred. So we can do it. Not right away though, cause I’m not easy.

Please be neat, and I will do my part of the housework too. That is, before we do it. After that I’ll stop doing my part, cause I’ll fall into an apathetic and lazy state and also feel that you owe me on account of the doing it.

You can have a girlfriend, that’s fine. You’ll leave her for me cause I’ll be much cooler than her. At first. Then, I’ll be your girlfriend, and I’ll stop being cool. In fact, I’ll most likely be worse than your original girlfriend you had upon moving in, but by this point it will be too late because we’ll already be living together. You’ll grow to hate me and do a whole bunch of fucked up shit to make me break up with you, but I won’t, I’ll just complain about you to my friends, and probly your friends too. Then, I’ll sleep with some of your friends.

At this point we will probly both need to move out. You will try and kick me out, but I’ll make you feel guilty and so we will both end up having to find new places even though it would be much easier and more fair, really, if me and my fat ass left. I’m not so fat now, but by the time this happens I most definitely will be 10-15lbs heavier then when we met. This will somehow be your fault.

You will then be free to get back together with the girlfriend you left for me. Consequently, I will stalk you both on myspace, and if you both have a facebook, I will also stalk you on facebook. If you catch me doing this I’ll be like whatever I don’t care about you I’m not stalking you you’re the psycho, but in reality, I do care, I am stalking you, and I am actually the one who's insane.

If you are interested in this arrangement, give me a call, I’m looking to move in by the Fall 08 school year- you can reach me at my mom's house, where I live with her and her four cats. Thanks!!

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Gchat - 3/24/2008

8:25 AM Angela: i cant believe ive been gone for like 2 months
Steph: i know
Angela: have you seen becca
Steph: saw her two days ago
Angela: i had so much fun with her in paris
Steph: she said u guys had fun
ya
i wish i could've been there
8:26 AM Angela: it was prolly the best part of my trip
she was the best host
Steph: host implies she has a penis
Angela: host
Steph: hehe

Monday, July 28, 2008

Beating a Dead Horse

Dear Ex-boyfriend,

i rarely remember my dreams.
i had a dream last night that i bought this horse from this ghetto lady and her kids on the street, and it was the raddest horse and i took it home and put it in my back yard. then the next day you came over and i was so excited to show you my horse, and when we went out back it was dead, like horribly dead and rotting with its toungue sticking out and flies. You started to make fun of me for being so stupid as to buy a horse off some ghetto bitch, but then i started crying because i was really upset cause i totally loved that horse, so then you became all chivalrous and decided to go stand up to the ghetto people for me and yell at that bitch and her man for selling me a fucked up horse, but it was like 1pm and we couldn't find them, and you got all "well, i have shit to do at two, so i have to go soon" and then i thought you were kind of a dick again.

Love, Angela

Sunday, July 27, 2008

My review of "Drunk Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair" by Laurie Perry aka 'Crazy Aunt Purl'









Okay, this will sound mean cause I kind of enjoy this chicks blog (in the same sense that I kind of liked the Olsen twins big screen debut in "New York Minute", meaning I masturbate to it but would not publicly disclose to knowing all the words...verbatim.) But I was drunk and damn you Borders Reward Card I bought this book and let me tell you it was so gay I thought I was straight.
I mean, I am straight.
Moving on...so I just hate it when people talk about being "crazy" or "Out there" when they are very clearly not. I KNOW crazy. I know it intimately. It rents a timeshare in my vag and summers in my liver.
This dumb ho says some shit about her mom having a "sick sense of humor" because to entertain her little brother she cooked a hamburger into the shape of a hotdog and put it on a hotdog bun.
Hmmm.
This sounds neither sick, nor humorous. It sounds effing delicious.
You wanna know what a sick sense of humor is? When your dad dies when youre 15 and your mom makes up stories about him beating her when he was drunk to guilt you out of your alcohollism.
Now thats fucking HILARE.
So thats my book review...this book sucks so bad it makes "Juno" look like Noam Chomsky.
Actually, I take that back... there really isn't so much of a contrast between the Chomsker and Juno- I mean their breasts are pretty much the same size, and they both seem to care about stuff. Plus, with some nice calf implants, theyd actually both be on the top of my "need to fuck later this week" list, along with the guy down at the chevron and the other guy down at the chevron. So, yeah, disregard the last couple sentances.
The book still sucks though.

Friday, July 25, 2008

A recent epiphany

I’ve decided that I don’t ever want to have an affair with a married man.

Its just so… 32 year old bank teller who lives in Monterey and drinks white wine and considers her coworkers her best friends.(side note: I am fully aware that in five years I will probly be this bank teller, if not because of karma from the previous statement, then simply through pure determination on my part).

I used to think of affairs as so defining. When I was younger, I was actually jealous of all the girls in my grade who were fucking teachers- what a great story for the grandkids, I would think. What an event, to have an affair with a teacher. Then, when I was older, it was the professors, what a thing that would be. All the cool girls did it. I was never that cool. I never cared about grades or even sex in general, much less my own grades or having sex myself. And then I felt shame. It was some sort of confusing status-quo that I think I made up in my own head, one that everyone else, none I knew, but all the others were living up to but I could never. I just thought that that was what edgy, self-defining girls did, and I so wanted to be that girl, with that story.

Not so much anymore.

In reality, I don’t think I want to watch some flabby bastard’s shadow pumping up and down through the tv-light of two and a half men reruns flickering against my wall, or against any wall for that matter.

After years of cheating, secrets, loveless sex coupled with rampant drug abuse, I’ve realized that these were all my equivalent of that lost story of an affair. And really, though I’m very good at embellishment and have made these stories quite worthy of being told at my friends parties to their refreshing chagrin, I’ve also realized that they are just as empty as I never thought was possible.

So, yeah. My dreams of fucking a married dude, a dude in power, or whateves, they’ve all but died- much in the same way as most of my dreams:

I realized they were fucking retarded.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

My Review of "JUNO"






This movie was gay.
Me and Juno, on first glance, have a lot in common. We both like unprotected sex with teenage boys, making married men leave their wives, being fat, and getting Jennifer Garner to rub our bellies.
This is where the similarities end. My final verdict:Thumbs down.
FYI: To be fair, every time i tried to watch the movie I kept getting up to check my wall street stocks on my blackberry, so I may have missed some important parts. Its hard to hear retarded Moldy Peaches songs through my bellows of "BUY BUY BUY!!! SELL SELL SELL!!!! oh wait...who is this?". I should know.
Welcome to my fast-paced livin-on the-edge world people- its a rough one, but someones got to do it.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

The backs turned

For reasons both apparent and non-apparent

Whatever

They get easier to see

But they never get not hard

To look at the scruff of the neck

The sweater pulled over their fingers

You never prepare yourself

That, yeah, that’s the last time

But it always is

You know it later

And wish you’d said something

At least something different

But you didn’t

And by this time

Its been too much time

Too much time has passed

Also, if you try to go back

At this point you’ll look like more of an asshole

So you just have to accept you are an asshole

And hope you’re not too much of an asshole

When they remember you

If they remember you

Which they probably won’t.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Gchat - 5/19/2008

11:25 AM Steph: i forgot to call u on ur bday, sorry
happy belated bday
old bag
Angela: today is my bday
Steph: oh shit
haha
Angela: dumm
Steph: i thought it passed
i am the dumbest
happy current bday!
Angela: toats
11:26 AM Steph: we're old
Angela: i cant wait to have my vag work done
i think i look young, then i look down
and im like dammit
Steph: hehe
11:27 AM Angela: i probly should be wearing pants anyways though

Sunday, July 20, 2008

A Photo Montage of my life thus far (Minus shots from "The Hills", cause I couldnt find an angle of LCs face that did justice to the impact its had)

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Thursday, July 17, 2008

Thursday Night Walk

Vintage Poem: 2/19/2004


I was stumbling along the streets

I was passing by vagrants

But they didn't fuck with me

Like they sensed my sickness

I vomited along the bushes

that seperated the homes from

the highway

Leaving a half-digested,

over-caffinated trail behind me

I could barely see a few steps ahead

The black plants growing

against the black houses

Black American flags

against the black sky

The only light the moon

glistening across my insides,

strewn allover some good samaritan's

front lawn

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

It only cost me my soul (plus 39.95 a month)

Things I'd rather be doing than be at the gym:

- Having sex with my best friend's boyfriend.
- Doing blow of my best friend's boyfriend's balls.
-Laying in bed chain smoking and eating the skin off honey-bbq flavor KFC boneless chicken wings and watching my Cher music videos.
- Doing the same thing except with ranch flavor and maybe Cher's Diane Sawyer interview from 1987.
- Repeat repeat but with original recipe and Cher's first appearance on David Letterman.
- Watching one of the cats pee on the floor and then pretending i don't see it so my mom can clean it up later.
- "Accidentally" downloading a virus on a coworkers laptop from watching porn and huffing all their computer duster then rearranging their cubicle and blaming the illegal immigrant janitor.
-Going to the mall.
-Going to the park.
-Going to the park next to the mall.
- Masturbating in the park next to the mall.
- Watching the tv-edited version of showgirls.
- Getting my tubes tied.
- Staring out the window while rocking back and forth.

But I'm at the gym.