"a neurotic and wordy girl"

Now a time capsule.

Thu, 20 Aug 2009 02:55:41 -0700

What I’m searching for
to tell it straight, I’m trying to build a wall
Walking by myself
down avenues that reek of time to kill
If you see me keep going
be a passby waver
Build me up, bring me down
just leave me out you name dropper
Stop trying to catch my eye
I see you good you forced faker
Just make it easy
You’re my enemy you fast talker

I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up
If I could stand up mean for the things that I believe

What am I here for
I left my home to disappear is all
I’m here for myself
Not to know you
I don’t need no one else
Fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later
You don’t know me
I am an introvert an excavator
I’m duckin’ out for now
a face in dodgy elevators
Creep up and suddenly
I found myself
an innovator

I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up
If I could stand up mean for the things that I believe

Change, change, change,
I want to get up out of my skin
tell you what
if I can shake it
I’m gonna make this
something worth dreaming of

I just moved into a new place, and as such I decided to take...

Sat, 01 Nov 2008 22:35:00 -0700

I just moved into a new place, and as such I decided to take advantage of Amazon Grocery + Prime to get a shitload of basics delivered at once. In fact, everything in this photo was delivered via online order; the bottom three shelves are from Amazon and the top shelf is from Village Grocery, a great 24/7 grocery delivery that serves Manhattan and Brooklyn via delivery.com. Something like a $15 minimum, very reliable, love it. Except that time they sent me sugar-free popsicles instead of regular. ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME??

Anyway! So here’s what I ordered, pasta-wise, from Amazon:

1 of: De Cecco Fedelini, 16-Ounce Package (Pack of 8)
Sold by: Amazon.com, LLC
1 of: DeCecco Pasta, Tubsetti, 16-Ounce Boxes (Pack of 8)
Sold by: Amazon.com, LLC

Copied directly from my order history. And what did I end up with?

8 boxes of tubsetti, and SIXTY-FOUR boxes of fedelini.

I can’t figure it out. Sure, there was a slight difference in price—$15.14 for the tubsetti, $22.77 for the fedelini. But does seven dollars really account for EIGHT TIMES THE PASTA? Because yes, each one of those boxes of fedelini is 16 ounces. So 128 oz. of tubsetti for $15, and 1024 oz. of fedelini for $22? WHAT?

My only explanation: Amazon fucked up. This is only the second, arguably perhaps the third time they’ve ever fucked up on me, and it was clearly in my favor. Well, at least theoretically. Until eating all that pasta turns me into a diabetic or something.

I don’t know what to do! Should I tell Amazon? The thing is, the price to send it back will probably be far more than the pasta is worth, since it’s rather heavy. And I certainly don’t want to be charged for something I didn’t want. I really only needed 8 boxes of fedelini, even that was going to be a bit on the much side since I only plan to stay in my current place for 6-7 months at most.

Good thing I like pasta. I suspect I’ll just let it slide under the radar (I mean, how can they not know that they shipped some poor unsuspecting girl over ONE THOUSAND OUNCES OF PASTA?), make big faux-spaghetti dinners, and when I move out, give the leftovers to a local food bank. How many boxes do you predict will be left?

Wiffle bat: weapon of mass destruction.

Fri, 17 Oct 2008 00:02:04 -0700

Wiffle bat: weapon of mass destruction.

Fuck you, you 5'6" shrimpy piece of shit.

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 02:39:00 -0700

So a while ago this guy follows me on Twitter. I recognize his name, let’s call him N.D. (because those are his initials). Why? Well, he used to write for Valleywag and then Gawker—he got fired, twice; proving, against all odds, that Nick Denton does in fact have at least a little bit of taste.

I follow him back, and he direct messages me. We exchange a few messages, then follow each other on Tumblr and friend each other on Facebook.

He adds me on Gchat, and once I add him back, he messages me, “my you’re cute.” He immediately puts on the full court press, encouraging me to come visit him in San Francisco and trying to get me to talk dirty to him. I look up pictures of him and watch some of his videos; he’s cute, so after a while I figure, hey, why not? I’ve been looking for an excuse to get back to SF since I moved back to Seattle from there earlier this year and this seems as good as any.

Then the drama begins. I mention in a private Plurk that I’m going to visit him. My friends lose it. They know his reputation and they’re not afraid to share. He’s scum, one says. He’s a manipulative SOB, says another. My ex tells me he’s disgusted that they’ll be one degree apart. Three of my friends (as in actual people I have met in real life) drop me in the ensuing row.

Then there’s more drama, this time with him. He freaks out on me when I jokingly mention on Tumblr that he’s only following me to get in my pants. I don’t follow everyone I’m trying to sleep with, he tells me, only the ones that are interesting. I’m flattered but also annoyed that he’s making such a big deal out of an innocent joke.

Then comes the first real fight. One night he asks for naked pictures, and tells me he will stop talking to me if he doesn’t get them. I flashback to when I was 17 and my abusive then-boyfriend pulled a similar stunt (and later shared the resulting photos with friends and posted them on the internet), and I flip out. He swears it was all a joke. Much like his comedy sketch videoblog, it’s not funny.

He whines that he wants to prove to me that he’s different. Over the next few days I soften and feel bad, and send him pictures. I want to believe you’re different, I say.

I still hadn’t booked my flights, for a variety of boring reasons. And so he takes the opportunity to pull out! Why? Because he “needs” to work on his screenplay and see his ex-girlfriend when she returns from vacation. “This screenplay, it’s taken over my thoughts,” he whines. “What the fuck ever,” I respond. Goes to show how “different” he really is.

But again I soften with a few days, and we reschedule. I book my flights right away, hoping to prevent him from backing out again.

I send him the confirmation via e-mail. “But we never confirmed!” he complains. What? Um, we agreed on a weekend, were there some magic words I was supposed to wait for?

“I can’t host you the whole weekend!” he claims. “Why not?” I ask. And then it gets really bizarre. “Arguing is silly because we’re in totally different worlds,” he says. “Your credit card gets rescinded because you spent too much at Neiman Marcus, I’m not sure if I can pay my rent because I don’t know when I’m getting paid.”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with you bailing out on me,” I respond.

He has no answer. Instead he moves on to accusing me of just needing a vacation. Um, I already have a vacation planned to Europe three days later. Sure, it’ll be a nice getaway, but the primary motivation is seeing him.

That just upsets him more. “This was never about romance,” he says angrily. Did I say it was?

Exasperated, the next day I cancel my flights, losing $75 to the bowels of Virgin America in the process. That’s the price I pay for trusting someone to be “different,” I guess.

And it turns out I canceled not a moment too soon. After he spend the evening Twittering sappy lyrics, I teasingly IM him that he’s “Twittering like a girl.” “I am becoming me,” he replies haughtily. “And you cannot stay here when you visit.”

“I already canceled my flights, but thanks for informing me,” I reply.

I had told him before about how I had just erased someone from my life, in an effort to get over him. Jokingly I had told him that one day I’d erase him too. I contemplate the possibility, but remember, hey, he told me how interesting he finds me and that he’s not just following me to get in my pants, so nothing should change, right?

Then last night I was trying to figure out why my Tumblr and Twitter follower counts had gone down. As I stare at the Tumblr grid, a sudden realization comes over me. N.D.’s face is gone.

So I nuke the motherfucker.

Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Dopplr, even Gchat—I erase him. I wipe away every trace of him from my life.

This is something I’ve only done with two people before. One was the aforementioned abusive ex-boyfriend. The other, the aforementioned guy I was trying to get over. In both cases it was a struggle, a painful struggle at that.

This time? Oh no. No pain. Instead it was like ripping off a pore strip—an intensely refreshing rush because I knew in that moment I was getting rid of a whole lot of shit.

“Different” my ass.

For total Eskie puppy overload, check out this page from another...

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 17:12:00 -0700

For total Eskie puppy overload, check out this page from another local breeder, documenting weeks 1-12 in the lives of a mini Eskie litter. Little fluff balls!

Speaking of Matzah, he just walked through the living room carrying a (still wrapped) rice krispie treat in his mouth…

Matzah’s little brother, running free!

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 17:10:00 -0700

Matzah’s little brother, running free!

Matzah’s dad, Sonny.

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 17:09:36 -0700

Matzah’s dad, Sonny.

This is Matzah Ball’s mom, Rosie, with the litter she just...

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 17:06:00 -0700

This is Matzah Ball’s mom, Rosie, with the litter she just had in January. I was originally supposed to get one of those puppies, but when I went down to Tacoma (about an hour south of Seattle) to look at the puppies, I discovered the breeder also had a 3-year-old who had been returned to her following the suicide of the owner. Poor puppy! So after some thought I went back the following week to take him home on a trial basis. Within two weeks I called the trial off and told the breeder to deposit my check because he was mine! But damn are those puppies cute. I am really tempted to get another Eskie puppy to play with Matzah, or maybe a Golden.

And in case you’re wondering, I’m the one that named him Matzah Ball. His previous owner named him Dancer, which is just lame.

pocketnovel: I met a guy named Brad, but I don't know. I just don't think I could date someone named after an office supply.

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 14:30:09 -0700

pocketnovel: I met a guy named Brad, but I don't know. I just don't think I could date someone named after an office supply.

pocketnovel: Date last night: "I heard at UW you have to read a lot of books." Um, yes.

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 14:30:06 -0700

pocketnovel: Date last night: "I heard at UW you have to read a lot of books." Um, yes.

pocketnovel: for those who had no idea what I was tweeting about: http://ping.fm/mrkWb

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 02:21:43 -0700

pocketnovel: for those who had no idea what I was tweeting about: http://ping.fm/mrkWb

pocketnovel: I think [REDACTED] is purposefully ignoring me. I'm really good at alienating those I love.

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:41 -0700

pocketnovel: I think [REDACTED] is purposefully ignoring me. I'm really good at alienating those I love.

pocketnovel: I would give anything to be by your side.

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:40 -0700

pocketnovel: I would give anything to be by your side.

pocketnovel: Harry Potter Year 4 has nice arms.

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:40 -0700

pocketnovel: Harry Potter Year 4 has nice arms.

pocketnovel: @croseattle: "you're cho chang and [REDACTED] is harry potter!"

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:40 -0700

pocketnovel: @croseattle: "you're cho chang and [REDACTED] is harry potter!"

pocketnovel: "maybe i shouldn't have mentioned hermione." story of my life

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:39 -0700

pocketnovel: "maybe i shouldn't have mentioned hermione." story of my life

pocketnovel: a giant squid just joined the band

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:39 -0700

pocketnovel: a giant squid just joined the band

pocketnovel: fuck [REDACTED]. i'm in love with harry potter year 7

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:21:38 -0700

pocketnovel: fuck [REDACTED]. i'm in love with harry potter year 7

pocketnovel: Standing upstairs and just spotted [REDACTED] below. Wow, I am embarrassingly in love with him.

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 22:21:37 -0700

pocketnovel: Standing upstairs and just spotted [REDACTED] below. Wow, I am embarrassingly in love with him.

pocketnovel: A sea of Save Ginny t-shirts and not one is @joshc. Confusing!

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 21:21:34 -0700

pocketnovel: A sea of Save Ginny t-shirts and not one is @joshc. Confusing!