stupid doctor...

So, last Wednesday I had a seizure, a fall-on-the-ground twitching seizure, about a block away from my house. Since then, I've been trying to call my neurologist to tell him, because I'm switching medications and a seizure is a pretty good indication that something is not working, but he's not picking up. Nobody's picking up - no secretary, no voicemail service, nothing.

I'm worried that this new medication is making me lose my mind.

Travel (trāv'əl) - Guatemala

As both of you know, I recently came back from a month-long trip through Central America. I visited Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua (blech), Costa Rica, and Panama. Let's start with Guatemala.

Guatemala: Grow Free and Fertile

First stop in Guatemala was Guatemala City, but we'll ignore that, partly because I was there for less than 24 hours and partly because all Latin American capital cities are completely skippable. My next stop was Flores, which is on an island the size of, I don't know, the East Village. It could be smaller. It's basically just a jumping-off point for getting to Tikal, which is about an hour away by bus.

Tikal is an ancient Mayan city that's about four times the size of Flores. Half of it is hidden under mounds of dirt, so if you ever get billions of dollars, I suggest funding an excavation, cause the stuff that has been dug up is awesome. Tikal is where the ewok island (ewok planet? ewok village?) from "Star Wars" was set, if that means anything to you, which I doubt. There are all these giant temples that you're allowed to climb, but I'd recommend just climbing like two, because the stairs are steep and scary and probably like fifty temple-climbers a year fall to their deaths. Plus, the day after I went to Tikal, my thighs were killing me. The stairs are very steep and narrow - perfect for tiny Mayan feet, I guess, but shitty for huge New York feet.

Anyway. Other stuff to do in Flores: swim around Lake Petén Itzá. The water is really warm and clear and beautiful and I spent hours floating around, doing nothing. Caveat: the lake is filled with tiny, sardine-like fish and they will swarm around you. I also had a good time shopping in Flores.

While I was in Flores, I stayed at this hostel called Youth Hostel Los Amigos. I don't remember much about it. The pros were that it was cheap, the cafe had good food, and it looked like something out of "Swiss Family Robinson" - all the wooden ladders and vines hanging around and all that. The cons were that it was loud, hot, and buggy, but that's just an unavoidable part of hostel living.

The next place we stayed was Finca Tatin, a hostel about 45 minutes from Rio Dulce. This is a good place to stay if you want a relaxing stay in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, in the middle of nowhere. There are no shops, no restaurants, no neighbors close by, and you can only get there by motorboat. It's made up of a couple buildings on poles in the middle of a muddy swamp, right next to a lake where you can go swimming whenever you want. You can go swimming at midnight; they won't stop you. There's a rope swing and a sauna, so if you want to do the sauna-lake-sauna-lake thing, that's available. You can rent kayaks, if that's your thing. It's basically a place to get away from It All. If you wanted, I suppose you could go to Rio Dulce. I have two memories of Rio Dulce: pantsless toddlers and the stench of rotting meat. But you can go if you want.

We also spent a night in Livingston. Livingston is right on the beach; you can see Belize across the water. And it's gorgeous. It actually looks like a movie set. But you can't swim in the ocean there; it's covered with dead fish. If you want to go swimming, you have to go to Los Siete Altares, which are seven hot springs. They are fantastic. Very buggy, though. The whole town is pretty buggy. All of Guatemala is pretty buggy. Bring some strong bug repellant.

Anyway, that's Guatemala for you. Stay tuned for the rest of Central America!

Fuck it, I'm sexist

Everything is sort of falling apart; I don't know if I care.

I've been thinking about sexism a lot lately, and the conclusion I've come to is this: everyone is sexist, and they need to own it. We all need to say, We are sexist, because it'll force us to realize that sometimes, when we make generalizations about women or men (but mostly women, por supuesto), they're just our retarded biases. People are always saying things like, "Well, I'm not sexist, but women are biologically programmed to be caretakers/can't control their emotions/just aren't funny/are all bisexual and want to be watched doing it with other women/have too much power." (Racists are the same way: "I'm not racist, but black people just aren't smart/Asian women are all after white guys' money/Jews control the media.") If they admit they're sexist, take out the, "Well, I'm not sexist, but..." part, they may realize, hey, I'm making ridiculous, unfounded statements, and even though I sometimes think these things, I have to take a step back and analyze why I think this way.

Fake it til you make it?

I should be nicer. I've come to this conclusion. Yet something holds me back - I'm not a nice person. Will I be a fake if I suddenly start acting nice? Or is that something everyone does? Is everyone just as mean as I am? The only reason I want to be nicer is because I want people to be nicer to me. I want to go out with a nice guy. Does everyone act nice just so people will be nice to them? Interpersonal relations are not my strong suit, so I'm honestly not sure.

Gerbil surprise

My brother got a gerbil - Harvey Charizard. Google tells me that Charizard is a Pokemon character. He's keeping it in my sister's room, where he sleeps when she's at college. She comes home for spring break on Thursday. We're keeping Harvey as a surprise.

I've decided that Chicago Dom is lame and I want nothing to do with him. He got really mad on Friday because I made a joke about death. He says death isn't funny. I don't get it. Hasn't he ever heard a dead baby joke? He also said it was disgusting that I wanted my grandmother to die, and it's like, she's 88, she's deeply unhappy, she can't move around, all her friends are dead, her husband is dead, and all she does is sit around watching CNN. I think at a certain point, you'd have to be crazy to want to keep living. When she was 100, my great-grandmother decided she'd had enough and stopped eating, and three or four days later, she was dead. That's not tragic, it's natural. She was basically immobile and she was kind of senile and I'm sure she was bored and all she could eat was mashed-up nursing home food. People aren't meant to live like that. I'm not saying that it would have been immoral or disgusting for her to keep living, or that people who are paralyzed have no reason to live. I'm just saying that I can understand why she wanted to die and if I could have, I wouldn't have done anything to stop her. She was 100. She lived a good long life.

To end on a happy note, I'd like to say that I love peeing. It just feels good. Poor syphilitics.

The opposite of domination

So, as most of you know, I've been experimenting with BDSM. Exploring my submissive side. I spent last week in Chicago with a dom I met on the internet (yes, that's retarded, but I'm back in Brooklyn and I'm alive, so I guess it's all good), and I really like him and hopefully we're going to fall in love and get married... but I shouldn't jinx it. The point of this entry is the local dom, DomBro, that I have to get rid of now. He told me he loved me, which is retarded and kind of obnoxious, considering he doesn't know anything about me. I hope he's lying, because I definitely don't love him and if he meant what he said, I feel bad for him. I told him this would never work out and he was like, "But you said you loved me," and I was like, "Yes, because you told me to, you dumbass." I can't believe he's arguing with me. Who argues when you say you're not interested? What the hell? This is New York City; there's no shortage of freaks. So I sent him a list of all the things I didn't like about being with him and he said he would change all of those things. How is it domination if I can tell him to change things about himself? This is so frustrating. But I'm very hopeful about Chicago Dom, which of course means that he is going to break my heart.

The one and only reason high school is important

Some guy was talking about how this woman he'd slept with was really trashy because she drinks and smokes and swears, and it got me thinking. As far as I can tell, everyone in the world has trashy habits, everyone. I, for example, am a really annoying drunk and I swear a whole lot and I have terrible table manners. Some people eat fast food or let their thongs show or chew tobacco or accept money for sex or smoke crack in the bathroom at work - these are tiny habits that are usually considered kind of whatever, but in some people, they're trashy. I don't know. I think it has to do with grammar. I think you can do whatever you want and as long as you're saying, "He and I went downtown to find prostitutes," instead of, "Me and him went downtown to find prostitutes," you're in the clear.

Domestic Bliss

The dog and I are playing a game I call Chicken Standoff. I ordered chicken shawarma for lunch and ate about half of it. The rest is in a Styrofoam container on the floor. The lid is open and the dog can see leftover chicken and rice. She's been staring at it for about an hour, whining. She won't touch it, but if the housekeeper tries to pick up the container or even go near it, she attacks.

I was looking through my stuff today and found a stuffed animal I bought for my eventual child. I bought this like three years ago or so. I didn't even like stuffed animals as a kid; I assume that trait is hereditary. I also have a list of possible names for my eventual child. When I get pregnant, my husband can choose a name off the list. Lately I've been worried about infertility, though. I mean, I do sit the laptop on my ovaries a lot, and I had a pelvic X-ray two years ago, and I take all these anticonvulsants, and I want a baby, which is kind of a jinx. And everyone says, oh, you can adopt, but I want the baby to look like me, glorious, gorgeous me. My mom says my eventual husband's DNA could override mine and I could get some non-me kid, but creo que esta equivocada. My genes are pretty forceful.

Noh + Shakespeare = zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

My dad took me, my brother, and Hirohito to see a Japanese version of "Hamlet" on East 4th. It was all in Japanese, incorporated traditional Noh dances, and had flashing lights throughout the entire thing. On the plus side, it was only 80 minutes long, and afterwords, we got to leave Hirohito to take pictures with the cast. I think he knows we all hate him and thinks it's hilarious. He gets this weird smile on his face when he sees us, like he knows something we don't. Today my brother slammed the car door in his face.

I've had pain on my right side for two days now. Internet says it could be appendicitis, but my brother says I'd have a fever. Whatever; when in doubt, it's cancer.

Relationshipz iz tough: your questions answered

Problem: The person I am in love with doesn't love me back
Solution: Start an emo band

Problem: My boyfriend can't make me come
Solution: Dump him because he sux; if this is not an option, buy a vibrator.

Problem: My girlfriend can't make me come
Solution: Seek therapy because you obviously have mental issues

Problem: I throw up every time I give head
Solution: Don't eat for at least 3 hours before giving head

Problem: I want to beat the shit out of my boyfriend during romance times
Solution: Do it. He'll love it.

Problem: The person I'm seeing wants me to eat poop/shave my head/drive an ice pick through my eye and s/he says s/he'll dump me if I don't
Solution: Light his/her face on fire

Problem: The person I am seeing has gained 100 pounds since we started dating
Solution: Either develop a fat fetish or chain him/her to a radiator until s/he has starved off the extra lbs.

Problem: I hate giving head and my partner always wants it
Solution: Just do it really terribly until your partner gives up on you

Problem: My partner and I have different sexual interests
Solution: Swing!

Confession Corner: Drugs

I went to Columbia, that hotbed of sin, last night. There were free drinks, which was nice, and then my friend was like, "I am going to use cocaine. Would you like some?" and I said no because I'd get addicted immediately - I know this. Then she offered me Adderall and I was like, well, that can't hurt, it's just a little blue pill. So I had two and kind of fell asleep. I think I have reverse brain chemical interaction syndrome. Or maybe it was just that the alcohol overpowered the Adderall. Then I got my energy back like four hours later and I wanted another one, but it didn't happen. Anyway, the moral of the story is: I can never take Adderall again or I will get addicted, and those pills are $5 each, which adds up to money I don't want to spend on something I can't wear on my feet. But if I had unlimited money, like a fortune, I'd definitely get into drugs. And plastic surgery.

All in all, last night was really fun. I got to have some girl-talk. I didn't realize how much I missed it. The nice thing about girl-talk is that it's so cozy. You just hang out with your girlfriends, watch them snort cocaine, and talk about body issues. It's awesome.

New: Tampax Condoms

Oh my god, you guyz, I got sooooooo pissed off in Duane Reade today. I was in the feminine hygiene section, comparing prices on the different douches, when I stumbled upon a (frankly, somewhat limited) selection of condoms. In the feminine hygiene section. Now, maybe I'm just not operating my vagina correctly, but since when are condoms used for feminine hygiene? They don't cure yeast infections or mop up menstrual blood or clean out your piercings. They're baby blockers, made to fit over a penis. A guy's penis, not a (presumably unhygienic) female penis. Not only does Duane Reade's super-retarded condom placement suggest that birth control is exclusively a female concern (further evidence for my belief that all men want in life is a baby), but it discourages guys from buying condoms. What kind of guy is going to walk into a drugstore and go, "Wow, buying from the feminine hygiene section totally reaffirms my masculinity"? The only guy who would brave that section is a non-retarded guy, i.e. a woman. Anyway, I complained to the manager, who said that the section divisions were planned out by HQ and I'd have to talk to them. Whether or not I have that kind of energy remains to be seen.

Philosophy 101

Q: Would you rather date a guy with one ball or three?

A: Hard to say. The guy with three might be more confident and also he would be a hilarious story to tell your friends, so those are some reasons to go for the triorchid. On the other hand, he might be more masculine, which is never a good thing. I guess if it's the same guy, same personality, plus or minus two balls, I'd go with the three baller.

It's surprisingly easy to weed them out sometimes

I went on a date last night with Cute Guy. I haven't mentioned him before, but there's no need. Cute Guys are pretty much all the same - they think all they have to do is show up. This guy was hands-down adorable, like Michael J. Fox in the 80s, and he said absolutely nothing of interest until about half an hour in, when he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I'm thinking about you on your knees sucking my cock." I told him I had my period. That's why you never date Cute Guy, you always date Quirkily Cute Guy, the one with buckteeth or freckles or something. I don't know if it's the same when you're dating women. There's more of a range of acceptable looks for women. Men pretty much all have to be tall, with hair a certain length, either skinny or buff but never pudgy (speaking of fat, my sources tell me Seth Rogen has lost some weight. Good job, buddy!). Anyway, the conclusion of this story is: boys, looks will only take you so far, so either get interesting or become a very good listener.

Proof that I may not have enough to do

Burn victim seeks nonjudgmental - 22

---

Reply to: pers-998351588@craigslist.org ^[?]
Date: 2009-01-18, 10:30PM EST


The title says it all. I am friendly, fit, and intelligent, yet because of the third-degree burns covering my face, I have trouble getting dates. If you can look past the scars, I'd love to hear from you! Please be tall, h/w proportionate, and successful.


So far two responses:
1. "May I see?"
2. "why would you look for successful? which I imagine means rich? what if I suffered financial burns...?"

The loss of innocence

I've been thinking about innocence, and I don't think it has much to do with sex. I think you lose your innocence the second someone rips your heart out and uses it to fertilize their lawn. You can have anal sex with five gazillion guys and still be innocent, because you don't suspect anyone of being able to really hurt you, and you can sleep with one guy (or, theoretically, remain a virgin) and when he breaks your heart, you've lost your innocence. I guess that's the appeal of dating younger people, their distinct ability to trust strangers. Unfortunately, all the younger guys I meet are my brother's retarded friends, and while some of them are cute, all of them are idiotic.

In lighter news, the dog is sitting on my butt as I type this. She is so perfect. Sometimes I worry that I'll never be able to love my own children the way I love her.

List! Liszt? No, List!

Top things people do that annoy me that I do now:
1. Talk about their bodies. This may not count because I think I always did it, but it annoys the SHIT out of me and I have to stop doing it. It's like, the more I talk about body image x, the worse I'll feel about it, right? And if I talk about my gorgeous fat ass, then my flat-butted companions will feel :( inside. So either way, when you (I) talk about your (my) body, positive or negative, you're (I'm) a dick. The madness ends here. I officially don't give a shit about my or anyone else's body, unless it's super-fat or super-sexy. Call me on it. I'll call you on it.
2. Care about celebrity gossip. I didn't do this before. I do now. And I shouldn't. I haven't even seen an Angelina Jolie movie since "Girl, Interrupted" - why do I care about her kids or feuds or whatever? And why do I dislike Paris Hilton so much when I've never even met her? It's a strange thing, my fascination with celebrities, and even though it's a waste of time, I'm not going to stop obsessing. It's too much fun. But I will never use nicknames to refer to a person I haven't met (or will I?).
3. Call Williamsburg Billyburg. I hate this. I do it every single day. Whatever.
4. Go to Billyburg. It's crawling with awkward hipsters and it's impossible to get to from my neighborhood and all there is to do is spend money on pointless crap, but now, I find it fun. Impossible to tell if it's because my tastes have matured or because I'm getting dumber.
5. Abbreviate in text messages and IM conversations. cu l8r qt! Blarg. But it's so much easier than typing out, see you later, cutie, especially on a phone.
6. IM. I stopped IMing like five years ago. It was pointless. I've started again. Most of my conversations go like this:
Me: how r u?
Them: ok, u?
Me: no response
The urge to reach out and touch someone through a computer... it's overwhelming, yet its power wanes quickly.
7. Use a DivaCup. I used to think they were just for the butchest of dykes. Now I realize that those dykes are smarter than I am.
8. Wear formless dresses. I've spent hundreds of moneys on them when just a few years ago, I thought they were ugly as hell. I was probably right before.

I don't know if anybody ever thought of this before, but I've realized something: as people get older, their tastes change. Surely this insight will win me a Nobel Prize. First person to write me a power ballad gets to take a trip to Stockholm with me.

Monday's body image issues are Tuesday's barricading oneself in a cave

The sore throat went away and I am still alive. I am invincible.

So I went on a date a couple days ago (or maybe it was yesterday - time means nothing to me) and the guy said that although I was beautiful, if I lost ten pounds, I'd be perfect. I'm torn between feeling offended and completely agreeing with him. Or maybe I should start lifting weights, get super-ripped, and beat the shit out of him. Or maybe I should just start dating black guys. I've heard they don't frown upon a giant ass. Anyway, with the amateur life coach's advice in mind, I "worked out" today. It hurt and I don't want to do it again. Also, being around him made me a little uneasy. He reminded me of my ex in a very vague way - they both had knee surgery.

My mom fell on the ice and hurt her knee and for some reason, she's been complaining. I don't get people sometimes.

Letting My Inner Bitch Blossom

I have a sore throat. You think it sounds like nothing, but I figure I have about 48 hours to live. Protect yourselves. Wear face masks on the subway.

The more tactful I get (and at the ripe old age of 22, I find myself more tactful than ever), the louder my inner monologue gets. It's like, I'll be listening to someone and instead of rolling my eyes, I smile and nod and I find myself thinking, "YOU ARE AN IDIOT. YOU ARE AN IDIOT." Then I zone out. Yesterday I couldn't take it anymore. I was walking behind some lady on a cell phone and she was telling her friend that she showed up to a party and (!) another lady was wearing the same purple sweater in a different cut. I walked by her and said, "Oh no! Same sweater!" Then, because I am a coward, I started walking faster so I couldn't hear her yell at me.

I've been dating again. It's all the same: men who think they're entitled to my body. The problem is that I want them to touch me. I'm horny as all get-out. But you're not supposed to have sex with them because then you're a slut, you have no leverage, you'll get AIDS, etc. I think traditional gender roles are stymieing my natural whorishness.

Hey! It's Asshole Day!

My friend and I went to a bar on Smith Street on Friday cause we were too lazy to go into Manhattan or Williamsburg and we made a whole bunch of friends. First, we were approached by this guy who looked kind of like if Sinbad were thin and he was like, "If you two come back to my place, we can have a really good time," and my friend was like, "I have a boyfriend," and he was like, "Hey, I have a girlfriend." We were of course appalled. Later, I saw him chatting with two other women and I went up to him and I was like, "It is so great that you finally found women who don't care that you have a girlfriend."

Back to the one-paragraph book reviews: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, by John Perkins
Okay, so what an economic hit man is is someone who convinces Third World countries to take out ridiculous loans, then when they can't repay their loans, forces them to basically let U.S. companies take over all of their industries. Perkins was one of those guys, and since he was pretty high up , he screwed over a lot of impoverished people, but it wasn't his fault! His parents were controlling! Some woman forced him to marry her! He just wanted a nice life for himself - is that so much to ask? These aren't confessions, they're fairly well-known secrets. He doesn't admit to any wrongdoing at all, and argues that he was different than the other economic hit men because he a) appreciates different cultures and b) knew that what he was doing was wrong. Apparently some economic hit men really thought they were benefitting the countries they were loaning money to, but he knew he was screwing them, yet somehow, in his mind, this makes him better and not worse. The book is interesting, but Perkins is a douchebag.

Excerpt from "The Penis Monologues"

Today this slut bitch I was gonna hook up with laughed at me. She said I was short and thin, and I was like, bitch, I'm a grower, not a shower, now get down on your knees, but she just ran out of the room. Probably a dyke, right? LOL!!!!! Anyway, after that, I had to show the world I'm a real man, so I went to go beat up some fags, but I guess they've been spending a lot of time at the fag gym cause they're so faggy, so they kicked me! NOT COOL!!!!!!! Anyway, I wasn't gonna get laid, so I went home, opened a cold beer, put an ice pack on my nuts, and watched some Skinemax.