Friday's Questions are Back from Their Vacation to Artsy Land

I don't think smoking's that bad. Do you?

Here are ways in which smoking is bad : your mouth tastes awful in the morning, and while drinking, and pretty much all the time to someone who's a non-smoker. You feel reliant upon something other than water and food. You hoard together your last quarters before payday to get that last pack you know you're going to need. You kill your pets with secondhand smoke. The inside of your car window gets this dirty nasty fog on it that makes it hard to drive at night. No matter how fancy you are dressed, you show up with ash on you somewhere. You will probably die. When you get sick, you get really really awful sick.

Here are ways in which smoking is good: It helps you meet people at work, talk to people outside the party, gives you an excuse to stay up just a little bit longer with him outside alone to see if he's going to make out with you. When you have no food in the house, you can get by. When you are despairing, it gives you one complete little action to perform. When you are outside in the snow, the smoke mingles with your frozen breath and helps you pretend it is not really that cold.


Why a dog? Why pets at all?

Yesterday I was talking with a friend about what kind of actions a person prefers as a sign of approval. Meaning, are you the kind of girl who wants compliments, or action, or gifts? What makes you feel most loved from your friends? And he, not being a girl at all, stated that he feels best when his friends have made it clear he is useful and steady and reliable, when his opinion matters.

So that's sort of the thing with pets, right? That they are these tiny creatures, moving and thinking on their own, that rely upon you and give you approbation all the time. You are the supporter. Only, unlike children, they never really move past that stage, and they are most of the time not expensive and easy to maintain.

But the blatant reality is that they are furry and pretty and are basically animated toy dollies.

And dogs are toy dollies you can take places, and run around with, and they will guard you and worry about you and then want to be with you when you wake up and keep your feet warm.

Sometimes that is a giant pain in the ass. But sometimes it's an unmitigated joy. Because even those of us who really just need someone to take care of them can tie ourselves back down to the world by having to take care of something else. And it's love, even unintelligent love is love. Even slave love. Even hostage love.

In the end, all animals feel this way about you: Which is proper and right.




Honestly who do you care more about when you see shows like Hoarders, the people or the animals?

I don't watch that show, or Intervention, or Biggest Loser, or any of those shows about people being rescued from despair. Because I don't care at all. I don't have some masochistic need to compare my own life to them and feel guilty. I don't have a superiority complex that needs stroking to stay alive. And I don't like to see disgusting things just for the sake of the gross-out, which is the same reason I don't watch gore movies. The images we put inside our brains stay with us, they don't go away, they stay in there buried, and I've got quite enough desperate visuals tucked away in there for a lifetime, plus all the room I'll need for poverty and starvation and tsunamis and war in the future, I can't fill it with this kind of clutter. Why do I need more things to feel bad for? Haven't I got half the people in the world for that already? Haven't I got the images right in my own city? Shouldn't I, if I really want to communicate with the pain, just go out there in my neighborhood and find it for real?

One can't just go around feeling awful for everything all the time. You have to focus on the things you want to help, which is practically an arbitrary choice, with all the buffet of pain around us. A TV show isn't going to make it into my parade. Focus people, focus. Don't just go giving out your tears like candy.


Which would be worse, having to wear a bump it or only being able to watch semi homemade with Sandra lee for a year?

Considering I actually own a bumpit, which I can't use because my hair is too fine and thin, but if I could I probably would wear, I think I'm going to have to choose Sandra Lee. Jesus. How much canned frosting can one person consume before their body finally starts rejecting it, and trying to throw their liver overboard through their belly button?

I'm so resentful she's in politics now.


If someone offered you free Ed hardy and four loco for a year not only for free but with a generous stipend for advertising their product, would you accept for the money and product or keep your dignity?

Um, money. Always the money. I'm not a hard sell on the 4 Loko, because I think people who can't handle caffeine with their alcohol are pussies. It's my preferred way to drink, and I wish the caffeine didn't always have to come in juice that tastes like ground up sweet tarts, but the point is, I would drink that. I would write a whole book about drinking that, and it would probably be a big seller, because it would be a descent into madness. It would go to use. The Ed Hardy gear would be less wanted, but I could always give it to a homeless shelter at the end of the year, which really, is way better advertising, to give all your ugly awful clothes to people who really need them because hey, clothes are clothes.

Dignity is overrated. Most people don't give a shit what you do to make money.


What are your feelings on hedgehogs? Can they be trusted?

The thing with hedgehogs is that they are stubborn egotistical little boys, who build up a wall of defensiveness because the other boys won't play with them because they are prickly. And so they curl themselves round in a spiky little ball when trouble starts to come, instead of running, which girls understand. And therefore they are vulnerable to badgers and other larger creatures in the know. And we want to tell ourselves they are sweet inside, little adorable woodland creatures, but honestly, why can't you just accept your hedgehogness and move on with it, Pig Snout? Why do we have to keep finding a way to make you uncurl?

Hedgehogs may live longer, but they are not a lot of fun to be around. I guess I would trust them as far as I could throw them, which is probably pretty far if I wore gloves.


Is there a polite way to tell a friend that while technically talented their art still sucks?

No. You should not be friends with people whose art you think sucks. If I meet an artist or a musician or a writer, I make damn sure I find their stuff palatable before I go getting all intimate and chummy, because the whole point of having me as a friend is getting intelligent criticism when you ask for it, and if you're going to be all shitty when I tell you my honest opinion then why are you hanging out with me in the first place. It's a terrible position to be in, and you should probably just never talk to them again. Unless you are trying to sleep with them, in which case accept the fact you have bad taste and lie your ass off.

How do you dream up these questions?

Oh, but I don't. I beg for them.
Ask Me Anything

Saturday's Questions have way too many cookies to bake before 5pm today

The best kind of toast is probably rye with some tomato and swiss cheese, but everyone I know cares a lot about basketball today, so I wanted to ask - what's the most irresponsible kind of underwear?

The best kind of toast is lightly toasted Italian with real butter. But rye is a close second, so I'll let that slide.

The most irresponsible kind of underwear is the nonexistent kind you wear when you've forgotten to do laundry. Or thongs. I don't even think that qualifies as underwear.


Are Akron and Cleveland really different cities?

No. Yes. I guess so. I like Cleveland more, but it's bigger and has a lake. I think Akron suffers from not having a large body of water near it. Also from having way too many one way streets. Akron is just smaller, you know. There's less stuff going on there, and a lot of it is related to the university, which is fine, but I'm not interested in hanging out with college kids so much. It's much more an Ohio town, and Cleveland is a Lake town. People from Akron are more Ohioans than Clevelanders. They are closer to the unlit highways with dead deer littered everywhere, to cheese barns and closing car factories, to the snow belt and the tornado warnings and the long stretches of rural road with ditches. Akron is sort of the border, where you really leave the urban grit for the unemployed farmland grit.

Akron also smells like burnt rubber, whereas Cleveland smells like burnt metal and rock water, and I prefer the rusty taste.


What is a product I can purchase for little and sell for a lot?

Love.


What's the best way to tell a girl I love her when I don't actually speak her language all that well?

First, you should learn to speak her language better. That's always a good step. But if you're like me, and terrible at learning languages, then I recommend writing her stories. The good love letters I've saved are the ones that went on for pages with stories maybe having nothing to do with me, but I still have them because they were written for me, to impress me.

And if you're not a writer, then send her photos you take, or sketches you draw. Produce things for her. Girls like things to be made for them.


What's the best way to end my story about walking a dog?

All stories about walking dogs should end with a home break in, or the dog getting dried fish. They should never end with the dog dying. Preferably there should be a boat involved. Dogs and boats are the best combination ever.

Do you think that your online and real life personalities differ?

So when I was a little girl, I used to volunteer to read in public all the time. At church I was a lector. At school, I was always trying to get picked for speeches and presentations. I fully thought of myself as a loud, slightly obnoxious child. Later in life, my friends from grade school told me that I was always really quiet. Even now, I think I talk really loud, and turns out, no one can ever hear me.

My point is that I am not self aware at all, and therefore not qualified to answer this question. I don't think there's much difference at all between me in real life and me online. After all, how much of yourself can you really hide when you've got a blog, and Twitter, and Facebook? I don't mention a lot of the more naughtier things I do, because usually the least interesting things about a person are who they are sleeping with, and how fucked up they are at the time. Maybe sometimes people think I will be snarkier in person, but I try to be fair and nice to everyone who is not a reality show star or a politician. I can devastatingly cruel if someone wrongs me, but that's only applied to 2 people ever in my adult life. So except for certain breakup meltdowns, I'm usually pretty even keeled. If you don't cheat on me with a 19 year old, I probably won't ever be angry at you. My friends are pretty drama free. When I think about it, while I was with the Ex, I was the biggest source of drama in our circles, because of all the fighting and trauma and him making me sad all the time. Poor Bridget's friends. Now I'm a pretty happy person, and I want other people to be happy, and I want my interesting friends to meet all my other interesting friends and have fun.

Unless you've met me in real life, you probably don't understand what a 12 year old girl I am actually. But then I wonder if my real life friends get that either. Really, I should be asking them this question.

Ask Me Anything

I wasn't lying about the dog thing

So lately, like, in the last two weeks, whenever I go over anyone's house, their dogs are really into me. Like, Nate's dog, washed my entire jean leg and wouldn't stop. Chris's dog was all up in my shit. The puppy who lives downstairs is wild for me. Andrew's roommates dog sniffed me like I was a lost shipment of gold covered pig ears. I don't know, maybe they think I'm an earthquake? Or I smell like cheese? (or, and this is gross, maybe I'm about to start the other side of my cycle, and they like the pheromones? I told you it was gross. Dogs like me when I'm ovulating. )

Well, my doggy karma worked out for me, because I just won two tickets to Brewzilla next week, courtesy of Jason over at Three Beers Deep. I'm ordering you to go over there now, not only because I want to build a reputation as the blogger who if you give her stuff will send people to your site and therefore you should give her more stuff, but also because the video of how they chose the winner is AWESOME and illustrates why I'm, like, the Queen of Dogs.

So if you ever really wanted to meet me, but didn't want to seem like a needy bitch, here's your chance.

Or you could have just sent me an email (see below)

Friday night...

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The Tremont Artwalk is going to the dogs.