One Last Question for the Week Because I liked this one and wish I knew who it was from

Do you think mystical experiences are possible? Ever had one? I'm not particularly neurotic (or religious, for that matter) but I think I just had one. It's left me at a bit of a crossroads. Do I shrug it off and have a beer, or change my life posture?

I'm not religious. I don't believe in ghosts or fates or curses or all the invisible creepy stuff that goes bump in the night. I don't believe in some higher power that gives our lives meaning or direction. I think we're pretty much on our own, and because some people find that a terrifying thought, our imaginations invent things to help us cope. Myths give us a sense of control, naming what we don't understand. And they're sort of fun because everyone likes fear that isn't mortal. It gives us drama, death and blood and afterlife, good and evil.

I do, however, believe in psychology and the power of the brain. I think the brain is an insanely complicated wonderful tool, and we are just chimps beating it against rocks. Well no, I don't think we're really that primitive, but we aren't even close to understanding how it works. I believe in biology though.

So when someone tells me they have seen a ghost, or have had a religious experience, I don't automatically think they are full of shit. I just think we don't know what electric-chemical cascade caused it. Okay, maybe sometimes I think they are full of shit.

Mystical experience is an open ended term. Is it a chain of coincidences so bizarre you find it hard to believe there isn't a reason behind it? Or did you see something glowing and shadowy? Did you see the word Cat written on a cat? I think the mind has to process a lot of data constantly, and that there are thoughts you are having beneath the thoughts you are consciously aware of. Dreams are sort of like that, your mind cleaning up the debris from the day before, having wild freakouts based on tenuous memories of stress. So I think, and yes this is guesswork, that mystical experiences are the waking equivalents of dreams. Or you had a seizure. Or you have a tumor. Or maybe something just tripped up in your circuitry. OR, in the far more conscious area of our fucked-up-ness, sometimes we see things because we want to see them. I mean, sometimes it's good to glimpse the narrative.

If it pointed you towards god, well, whatever, that's your choice. But I think a desire for god is indicative of a desire for something else in your life, and if you just name it god, then you're missing the real point. I don't know what it is you're missing, or what you're scared of, or what you want. Obviously though , whatever the stimuli was, your brain is trying to make a connection between A and B, and there is no reason to ignore that. But don't just write it off as a mystical unexplainable thing. Find out what it is about yourself that makes you want to interpret the event this way.

As for changing your life posture? Take every opportunity to reevaluate that, whenever possible. Cause most of the time we are wrong about everything. Right now, for instance, I was wrong about trying to make rice and beans without an onion. You just have to move on.

Ask Me Anything

Fridays Questions Are Sort of Pissed at Wednesday But Will Suck It Up

Do you consider yourself a feminist? I like to think of you as an ultrafeminist but I bet I'm wrong.

I don't know. I mean, I believe that every person should be treated equally and paid equally, and that there is a structure of oppression in our culture that convinces girls they have to look a certain way and act a certain way that is detrimental to their health and well being. I also believe that even in my lifetime, I see that diluting, and that the amount of time it takes to change how men and women have thought about each other for centuries is something our impatient minds can't comprehend fully, so we get disillusioned and give up and accept that certain ideas will always exist, which is why it's important to have activists who keep chipping away for the ideal. I think it's easy to surround yourself with people who think like you, and perceive it as the world changing, when in fact most people still don't think that way. So it's important to remember how women are treated around the world, and how the opportunities I got as a little girl are in fact fantasy for most little girls. I personally like men who want to protect me to an extent, but if I was a lesbian, I would like girls who did that too. It's just who I am. I crave security from someone elses hand, and frankly there are lots of guys I've met like that too. But I would never trade that personal want for a life of being told I had limitations to my intelligence and to my role in society.

I think it's most important to believe in the right of the individual to exist, and the responsibility of a society to protect that individuality, because it's where creativity and ingenuity come from, and it's a waste as a culture to not draw upon and learn from all your available resources ie every super computer we have in each of our fragile little egg skulls. Also, it's evil and immoral to treat anyone as less valuable than someone else.


Are our parents' generation completely stupid, irresponsible and crazy (as of 2010, if not before) or is this simply the typical, clichéd, aeons-old griping one generation always does to the preceding?

I mean, the problem with this question is that yes, our parents' generation is completely stupid, irresponsible, and crazy, but so is our generation. And the generation after us. And the generation after that. And the one after that. And after that. Get my point? That's why we're always bitching about each other. It's like being the girl with the teddy bear bookbag making fun of the kid with the cat bookbag. Or something. No, it's nothing like that.


Why have I never gotten a good haircut in my life?

There are several reasons for this, one of them might even make sense.

1) Do you find yourself attractive? I'm not talking about thinking you're the hottest thing in the universe, necessarily. But do you like to look at your own face? If you don't find yourself pretty or even at least pleasant, then you're not going to be capable of choosing a good hairstyle for yourself. Let someone else do it.

2) Going right along with that - find a hair stylist you like, based completely on a shallow evaluation of their clothes and hair and demeanor. Then tell that person to do whatever they want to your head. When I go in for a haircut, I say one word - short, and I let them do the rest. If you don't like it, it's hair, it grows back. Also there is a wonderful invention called scissors, and I use them frequently if I don't like something.

3) Finding a cheap good haircut is like finding a miraculous rock that weeps champagne. So pay some money for a really good one like the rest of us, and experiment with places, and someday that one person will show up who does everything right all the time, and then you'll tell all your adoring friends about them, and then you'll never be able to get an appointment again or they will move to Las Vegas, or something. This is the hair stylist cycle. Love and loss.

4)Are you a baby elephant? If so, you are just fucked. Wear a hat. Because then you will be a baby elephant in a hat, which is awesome.

I personally have never gotten a bad cut from the guys at Crazy Mullets on W.150th and Detroit, on Monday mornings. I have no idea about the rest of the week, but that's magic time over there. Emily or Jake. Or Erica, but she's never there then.

Why?

Because when I asked the giant metal robot that lives underneath the broken bridge next to the glass factory, he told me this was the only way you were ever going to get home.


What if I nominated you for Cleveland's Sexiest Singles?

First of all, it would be weird. Second, I'm too fat, for a girl. If I was a guy, it would probably be okay. Third, I don't make enough money. Sex = money. Fourth, I spend more time at home with the cats than I do at bars, so I think I'm disqualified automatically. Fifth, last time I checked, the definition of sexy was not "able to tell you funny stories of depraved and debaucherous one night stands until you sleep with her just to shut her up and find out if that one thing is really true."


Ask Me Anything

Friday's Questions Mother just told her about a doctor she works with who has the exact same birthday as her, like same year too. Thanks Mom.

What on earth is wrong with comic sans? it just looks like the font of the non-internet population. all i see is letters

The problem with Comic Sans is that its a font designed to look like preschool teacher writing. It is the Holcombs of fonts. I used to use it constantly. When I was 16.

AGgfvgs sgfasf asd a er afd ?

Yes, it is a real place. With volcanoes and glaciers and hidden valleys where lost species of mammoth guard the Hammer of Thor, and everyone dresses like a cross between American Apparel and LL Bean. And they all make french press coffee and eat croissants for breakfast, before they head out to their jobs as creative consultants for Santa's Workshop.

I'm not fond of suntanning but enjoy the tropical scent of sunscreen. Do you have anything like that going on?

No. I hate the smell of sunscreen, bug spray, most perfume, bubblegum, body lotion, lipstick, kitchen cleaners, febreeze, dish soap, and anything with trace chemical burn at all. They give me migraines. Or rather, they expose migraines waiting to happen.

I do love the smell of fire.

What is your favorite life form?

Bartenders and scientists.

Why were there no riots after the whole Lebron thing happened? And were you disappointed there were no riots? I was, a little.

I drove downtown to meet someone that night, and when I drove by the Witness sign, it was surrounded by cops. That was disappointing. I didn't want riots, but I thought for sure someone would try and burn the sign. I mean, apparently the cops did too. It's called a molotov cocktail kids. You can throw it. Very portable.

WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO WITHOUT LEBRON?????@(@!(E@!

Um, continue to have a basketball team? And continue to not really watch the games unless I'm at a bar where its playing. And continue to not understand why people get so hung up over sports, but can't start a movement for a ferry to Canada from Cleveland.

If you blog about me, will you change my name to protect my innocence or will you use my real name and expose my identity to the world?

I'm a fan of actual names. Hence my site name. I think it's folly to think you can protect anything on the internet ever, so you should probably just own your actions or not tell anyone at all. We should all live lives that we can tell people about, jobs where we are ourselves, families that know who we really are, and friends who don't necessarily need to read about what we're doing to keep in touch. By the same token, you should not be defined as an individual by your sins. They are just incidental by products of the rest of your life.

Ask Me Anything

Fridays Questions woke up late and are making up lame excuses for standing you up

Can you explain to me why people who didn't give a shit about soccer two months ago are now watching it and talking about it like they've been dedicated pseudo-European fans their whole lives?

No. I'd like to know what's gonna happen if America really really gets into soccer, and then has to start calling it football like the rest of the world? Are we going to rename football? This is exactly why we stayed away from this sport in the first place, and now we're gonna have to deal with the consequences. Think of the fans man. What are we going to call American football? I vote for War. Or Murder Games.


Do you think our generation is really more selfish? or is it just a stereotype assigned to us that we will eventually live up to?

I don't buy into the whole" one generation is better than the other" crap. Human nature doesn't change, only what kinds of jobs and governments and past times we have. If our forefathers had the same access to the 24 hour online monologue that we do now, they would be doing the exact same thing. But they didn't have the internet, and what the internet is really good at doing is exposing the details of a person that beforehand you might have only found out after years of marriage. So now, instead of being able to control our social images with a few well placed words after church, we all know how selfish, stupid, shallow, sad, and sophomoric we are, actually.

I ,for one, welcome this age of personality porn. It makes it much easier to decide who's worth sleeping with and I no longer have to remember everyone's address.


Can you list your top 5 favorite things to do during summer in Cleveland?

1. Watch thunderstorms
2. Drive out and explore the rest of Ohio
3. Sleep in front of a fan
4. Watch fireworks
5. Hang out by the lake and drink


How's come so many folks from Cleveland seem to work from home?

Do we? I don't know anyone else who does. Maybe you are just basing this off the Cleveland blog population? Of course people who work from home are more inclined to have blogs.

Maybe by "work from home" you mean desperately unemployed? That would make more sense.


If he reads my blog a lot, it means he likes me, right?

Ha! Probably. I've never dated anyone who read my blog on a regular basis. And I take that to heart. It's insulting. I mean, why are you asking me in person about my day? Did you not read about it? So yes, he may like you a lot. Or he may just like your writing. Or he may really enjoyed reading about banal details. It means less that he's romantically inclined, and more that if he is, he's okay for you. But not entirely. Cause some people are just really bored at work. Also, how many other blogs is he really into reading, huh? Is he a blog playa? And what do you talk about exactly, cause if your blog is entirely about reality television, you may want to think twice anyway.


Do you think that alcoholics should have dogs?

What level of alcoholic are we talking about? Cause anybody that can't be bothered to come home to walk the dog, or spend time playing with the dog, or brush the dog and take the dog to the vet and be home with the dog should not have a dog. I think that generally rules out most alcoholics. That even rules out me and I'm not an alcoholic despite what my mother thinks. But if you are an alkie who's devoted entirely to their dog as some sort of coping mechanism with the outside world, and I have met these guys who take better care of their dog than themselves, well you've got other problems, but me taking away your dog isn't one of them. Better you concern yourself with animal friends than involving yourself in anyone else's life emotionally. Oooh, burn.

Ask Me Anything, except maybe wait till I'm over this hangover.

(stolen from David, who may or may not have stolen it from elsewhere cause he's so fucking indie it hurts)

Fridays Questions carry pictures of their cats in their wallets

Just kidding, Friday doesn't own a wallet.



if u were gay, would you eat a bagel?

Um, yes. I would even eat a bagel if I wasn't gay. I bet I might even eat a bagel if I was an astronaut!

What the fuck.

PS its been pointed out to me that this question is not referring to yeasty crusty toasted goodness, but in fact something foul. I am a lady and therefore do not recognize or acknowledge this. If you want to ask if I give rimjobs than just ask it. We're not 8. Well, maybe you are. Also, the answer is no.

Would you sacrifice's hot dog inn or steves for a 24hour bagel shop?

Steve's Hot Dogs is indeed a special institution. What with the prostitutes, annoying kids, and unusable bathroom that is actually an entrance to the hell dimension where everyone is a ferret owner. However, as you may have gathered, I like bagels, even the underage queenie wannabe ones. A 24 hour bagel place would definitely get more of my business, especially if they offered bagel sandwiches. If it's 2 am and you're drunk, you need grease and bread. A breakfast bagel with bacon and egg wins over a chili dog at least half the time. It would just be better to get it from a place where you have less than a 30% chance of getting hepatitis from the loo. And really good coffee would be a plus. There's no 24 hour really good coffee place in Cleveland.

whats a good paint remover?

Elks blood mixed with battery acid.


Do you ever wish that there were actual Elders of Zion who controlled the world?

Look, not only is the Protocols a terrible and racist publication, but its authors are plagiarists, and I would sooner read the original anti-Napoleon satire than pick up a copy of that filth. If I read French. Which I will never do.

But if you're asking me if I think the world would be a better place if an ancient religious cult was conspiring to control the world, then I can only respond with "Where exactly have you been?" There are multiple cults, religious, political and mercantile, that are all vying for control over the world. I think they generally all suck, and encourage everyone to support my cult, which would be way better at it than them.


What is the opposite of brown?

When I mixed all the fingerpaints together, I got brown. So 5 yr old me concludes the opposite of brown is the absence of any color.

30 yr old me insists it is blue.


What is a book which changed your life?

The Bible.

Hahaha, no.

Lots of books change my life all the time. Certain books change my life again every time I read them. I have a selection of books I use to inspire whatever mood I want to be in, like taking a pill or drinking a lot of coffee. For instance, Watership Down makes me super charged political, and The Phantom Tollbooth makes me all philosophical. . Sherlock Holmes makes me want to do puzzles. Tom Robbins convinces me I'm a better writer than I think I am. Margaret Atwood's Robber Bride makes me more observant of my moods. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, while demoralizing because I will never be as awesome as Roald Dahl, reminds me to be childlike and appreciative.

But the spot at the top of the heap, life story wise, I'll give to the Little House on the Prairie series. They were the first books I read all the way through by myself when I was 5 or 6, and the next ten years or so all my imagination was rooted in them. We played dress up to them. I had a pioneer playmobil set because of them. I made my own paper dolls because of them. I pinched my cheeks to make them rosy because of them. I understood the value of ice because of them. I was appropriately terrified of locusts and hail because of them. I had a running childhood first person inner monologue because of them. And most importantly, I really enjoyed going to historical places, museums and birthplaces and stuff, which started with those books.


Who do you love?

Lots of people. My family. My friends. My ex-boyfriends. The people I used to be friends with. Lots of writers. A couple musicians. Mostly dead painters.

Generally anyone who doesn't expect much from me, and is just content to hang out for a while and talk.

I especially love people who love me.



Ask me anything.

Friday's Questions have a sunburn, and the worst itch is the one to get out of town for the weekend.

Is Cleveland really as bad as they say? Also, Cincinnati-style chili - good or bad?

Here are the two biggest problems with Cleveland. There are no jobs and our school system is super shitty. Oh, and our Lakefront kinda sucks, as opposed to how it should be, which is like Chicago's, only also covered in wind turbines. So three problems. Otherwise it's pretty much like any other mid sized city. It's not like Pittsburgh, which is really good at guiding out of town people to certain districts. But if you live here, and are familiar with it, it's a pretty decent place. I mean, if you talk to people who live in various neighborhoods around the city, most of them will defend the area they live in, so that's a good sign. Or it's a sign of our overwhelming insecurity. This question isn't helping. The biggest problem in Cleveland is that no one has any money to do all these great cultural things people are constantly trying to create. So it's always the same people doing them. I suspect this is also true in Pittsburgh and Milwaukee.

For those who don't know, Cincinnati chili is basically a thinner, sweeter chili that they eat over fucking spaghetti. Because the River People down south are crazy. I sort of hate spaghetti, and especially when it's smothered in sauce. So I am not a fan, and I think you are gross when you eat it, true story.

But I liked Cincinnati, because it has a river, and bridges. The best thing about Cleveland is standing in Wendy Park, feeling like you are in a Richard Scarry books, because there are trains, boats, planes, trucks all constantly moving across each other in the landscape. Cincy has a little of that vibe. Also that awesome aquarium.

Why aren't there more ghosts? I mean, more people are dead now right? And because of terrible situations? I would think that ghosts would be more commonplace.

There are not more ghosts, because there are no ghosts at all. And there are less people creating ghost legends now, because they have TVs. And, one would hope, better treatment for schizophrenia.

I've always thought the idea of ghosts was a very specifically cruel thing to believe in. I mean, not only do you believe in hell and heaven, which are really inhumane on their own, but then also people who die traumatically also get punished by having to stick around certain locations being really lonely, miserable, and ineffectual? Why are we so mean to the dead?

My favorite use of the word ghosts is when they describe immigrants or refugees in a new society. I think it is the most accurate.

How did I become old enough to get annoyed at co-eds talking about their sex lives in the office?

So you are implying there was a time when you weren't annoyed at people discussing their sex lives in the office? I always find that annoying. First, it makes you imagine that person having sex, which is uncomfortable. And second, I really don't like having personal conversations at the office, because most of my life I would never tell any of them about. They would think its weird, or immoral, or pathetic. At best, they wouldn't have much to follow it up with. Perhaps that's just an example of me being a snob, but I think it's just recognizing that most people at most offices lead fairly normal lives, and I don't feel like I do.

I'm definitely some sort of snob.

I don't know. Maybe you dislike it because it reminds you that you are too old to sleep with the co-eds yourself?

why are older people stupid in one way and younger people stupid in another way, but in a funny way, it's like the same way.

Maybe the people in the middle are too busy to show off their stupidity in the same way?

Stupid people don't magically grow up to be smarter people when they are older. Usually, stupid people devote too much time playing into the stereotype of what their age group is supposed to be doing. Like, younger people are supposed to be drinking, flirting, and worrying about themselves. And older people are supposed to be obsessed with their families, and visibly older, more decorous. The stereotype of middle aged people involves doing lots of things with other families, or focusing on working, and staying inside their houses cleaning or gardening or being frugal. Then when the children go away, they have more time to show off their stupidity publicly.

Anyway, it's not nice to group everyone together. Not all young people are stupid. Not all old people are stupid. Not all people are stupid. But stupid people are stupid no matter what stage of life they're in.

When I drink coffee, little bits of the fine, fine liquid gather in the corners of my mouthlips and dry there. So then I have little brown mouth boogers and find that to be disgusting. What to do?

Wipe your mouth after drinking coffee. Or don't slurp your coffee.

It's okay, when I drink red wine, I still often look like a kid who drank way too much grape koolaid. And my tongue looks like a well bred chow dog.

Whatever you do, don't become obsessed with straws.

What color are you?

I am usually so pale, the veins and purple scares and red cat scratches criss cross my skin like graffiti.

At this moment, I am kinda sunburnt, which is a lovely feeling, cause it's not too burnt. Just like a quick broil. It feels like you are a lobster saved from the pot.

Inside, I am an oil slick.

Why are so many smart people such emotional masochists?

Because we are bored. People whose minds are really occupied with interesting and active ideas are rarely the ones calling the exes or falling in love with alcoholics. If you feel you are an emotional masochist, you should interpret that as a sign that you have vast reserves of mental energy, see it as a positive, and pick something cool to focus that on.

Stable healthy relationships usually only come about when you are living the life you really want to.

Ask me anything.

Friday's Questions Need to Stop Being So Judgmental

I often thought it would be great if liberal-minded folk moved to one state, like a guerrilla bar crawl sort of thing, and created a better govt. Not like California; still too conservative in parts. What state would you pick for us to "make our own"?

I know, we all want to live in a place where everyone thinks like us. However, like most political generalizations, "liberal" is an umbrella that covers a lot of area. Too much area, frankly. But okay, so lets say we make everyone in the country pick a color, red pill or blue pill right? And everyone who picks red goes here, and everyone who picks blue goes over there. Well, I like to think that there's enough people in this country that would pick blue, we would need more than one state. We need a region. And this is hard, because initial reflex is to pick someplace cool, like the Rockies. We could be the mountain people! And we'd control trade routes. But we also need good farmland, since trade agreements are destined to break down. And fresh water. Also it would be a plus if we could relocate someplace that doesn't get battered by hail 12 times a year, or flooded, or hurricaned. To my mind, this leaves two area, the Great Lakes region, and the Pacific Northwest. Ocean access is important, right? But so is controlling the largest source of fresh water.

I don't know, maybe we could just draw a line horizontally across and take everything North of the Mason Dixon?

I mean, I feel like that's been tried before...

As the world cup approaches we have to ask ourselves: All soccer people vs. All crocodiles?

I seem to remember reading in a reputable source (the Economist maybe?) that all soccer people were half lizard. It's why so many of the good ones come from warmer climes, cause they're most active for the larger part of the year.

So you're asking me half-lizard people versus crocodiles? That's hard. Crocodiles are surprisingly agile, and fast. But height can make a difference, given the environment. And hands, hands are good. Though, soccer people can't use their hands can they? God, they're so stupid.

So crocodiles.

Crocodiles metabolize alcohol better anyway.



Ask me anything

Friday's Questions understand they are only tolerated out of habit and necessity.

If you leave a bag of hard pretzels open overnight will they get stale?


Things that get stale when left out overnight:
1)Mascara
2)Doritos
3)Malt liquor
4)Water
5)bubblegum
6)Soba noodles stuck to your jeans

Pretzels suffer the same effects as Doritos, which is less "getting stale" and more like this thing where they soak up all the water in the air around them. They get moist. Maybe this doesn't happen in the desert dry climates? I know you're supposed to only buy used cars from the Southwest states because they aren't eaten apart by salt and rust. Is that true about the people too? Is that why old people are always going down there, to mummify themselves? I read once that fat girls have less wrinkles and stronger bones from carrying the weight around, so they don't look as old as the thin girls who shrink into bones. I don't think this is particularly true, I think pretty people are just pretty no matter what size or age or color they are. Pretty people stay pretty, because they've figured out how to accept just being pretty, instead of making themselves pretty. Other people just have the stale mentality, and can't escape it's spread.

In conclusion, hard pretzels only get stale if they believe they are getting stale. Also this:




Why is Yellow Truck's logo orange?



According to the internets, it's because in 1929 the guys in charge of Highway Safety (J. Alfred Prufrock and Sons. no.) decided that the most visible color in the entire world was the swamp holly berry, otherwise known as the American Winterberry. It could be seen from long distances, felt shaking in the ground, in the sheets of passing motel rooms, the hearts of antsy young people everywhere. What is not quite understood is why they then chose orange, since holly berries are red. Maybe they felt red was too intimidating for motorists, as they speed past them in morning rush hour rain?

Anyway, its supposedly the safest color ever. Which also explains John Boehner's skin color.




Ask me something. Anything. Make it a rhyme.

Friday's Question wonders why the fuck she owns so many books every time she moves

Will I really have the guts to move?

Moving is fucking hard. It really sucks. This is a universal truth, and I don't care what kind of awesome place or life changing moment it was,there are no exceptions. Especially when you read a lot. And aren't very good at throwing things out. And have a zero packing skillz.

I mean, its hard on so many different levels too. Sometimes the worst part is just figuring out you should move. It can be emotional, or financial, or emotionally financial. It can recognizing how bored you are, or that you are too stressed out to keep in the same place. Moving always involves a large portion of self-reflection.

Then there are the actual mechanics of moving. The saving. The selling. The searching. It's exhausting. It's like going through finals. Are you doing a good job? Are you being fooled? Are you mucking this whole thing up and is everyone else secretly laughing at your incompetency? What if you don't get what you want? How long should you hold out? Are you being unrealistic?

Once you've got the place, then without a break it goes right into packing and culling. I love the word cull here, and it's totally what you do. You examine your life room by room and you cull the excess. You have to go through memories and figure out what is no longer important to you. Even if that's just boxes of nail polish or the hair ties in your bathroom cabinet.

So your question, whether or not you will have the guts, is a good one, because you do have to be very brave to move. You must be brave and stoic and persevering. If you are strong and patient, then there will be a week where it escalates, and you are living hand to mouth, bribing your friends for use of their trucks, worrying about keys and utilities, all while being very tired and living off of takeout. But the weariness in your muscles, the worry behind your eyes, will carry you through this cloud of stress like a burst of toxic, charged, ephedrine. Then it will be over, and your friends will leave, and you will be left alone, the sole resident(s) of this new empty clean place. Before you unpack you will relish sitting in the middle of the empty floor and imagining how everything will be rearranged and new. You will make vows to keep things clean, and look for paint, and buy lightbulbs. It will be lovely. It will be exciting.

So I think the fact that you recognize what this involves, means you have a very good chance. After all, you can't stay in the same place forever.

If you had to leave forever, what would you miss most about Cleveland and why?

Here is what I think about this. I think the people you find here are the people you find everywhere. I think the bars and scenes and streets exist everywhere. I think our characters are the same characters that populate every city. There's nothing inherently special about the man made parts of Cleveland. I like them, sure, but I know other places I can find them.

So once you take all that junk out of the equation what you have left is the land. The contours of the land, and the water sources, and the climate. The seasons. I remember when I lived in Phoenix, for the first part of my stay I was fascinated by how different being in the desert was. The dry heat. The colored gravel in front yards instead of grass, the cactus and palm trees. The first time I saw a thunderstorm that was so high up in the sky, the rain was actually evaporating before it hit the ground. The lightning, oh god the lightning was SO fucking good. When we went out past the city, into the vast nothingness of red and scrub, and then standing in the middle of white cracked ground at night under the moon. I loved it.

Okay yes, I still love it. But I couldn't live there. It was wonderful, but it wasn't where I was born to live. I was born to live in deciduous forests, with dramatic valleys and rivers and a huge magical lake always pointing North. I need blue skies and green, and mud and decaying leaves. Mostly I need soft big shapes to my landscape, curves and corners.

I think Ohio is beautiful. Everywhere you go in the state is glorious, overgrown and fertile and wet. There's so much water. There are caves, and glacial rock deposits. Islands. Even in the city here, there's a deep valley with steep cold rockfaces. There are bare big beaches. There's a placid rolling river going straight through our center. I love the lay of the land here. I understand why, despite it's being a fucking swamp, the original settlers wanted this place.

So that's what I would miss most.
Now I want to go read O Pioneers again.

Ask me anything.

Friday's Question is Full of Snout. I mean Doubt.

Can you give me a good recipe? For anything, your choice.

Well, alright.

The Perfect Ice Cream Sundae

1. 1 scoop natural vanilla ice cream, good stuff
2. 1 scoop strawberry ice cream
3. a generous handful of sweet pralines, and salted peanuts
4. a drizzle of salty caramel sauce
5. a dollop of nutella
6. 6 maraschino cherries, no stems
7. a hot evening after a hotter day, with one fan on the other side of the room, and reruns of Family Guy and Scrubs.

Buy all the ingredients and spread them out on the counter. Play some Lilly Allen while you are washing out a large glass and a spoon. Lilly Allen is ice cream music. Pile in everything. Eat a few pralines on the side and wonder how popular the first person who thought to cover nuts in sugar must have been, and how great Christmases must have seemed to people who were really poor and to whom oranges were a big deal. It helps you understand the spread of Christianity, the richness and prettiness, the offering of beauty to the masses.



The Shameful Rosie

1. sink full of dishes
2. 2 used pans sitting on the stove
3. several empty boxes on the counter
4. one very distracting laptop on the kitchen table
5. 3 leftover beers in the fridge

Sit at the computer. Drink a beer. Think to yourself every five minutes how you should just get up and do this shit already. Then spend an hour searching for new old buildings, when you should be showering the muck from this morning off of you.



A Great War

Take a premade valley. Fill it with young men with limited futures. Give them guns, but no ammunition. Slowly mix in advances in weaponry, maybe some primitive robotic drones. Be sure to let the casualties settle before stirring. Chill for 7 months. Serve with little cinnamon candies, on a doily, in a factory in Maryland. Side effects of over consumption may include deceiving confidence in your future markets and unforeseen consequences of dismantling empires.



The Perfect Birthday Present

Buy one unicorn. Build a magic fence around your backyard. Lure one bear into the fence with a honeycomb. Set up the video camera, and stage Unicorn vs. Bear.
If possible, book a Journey cover band.


A Recipe for Disaster

One large dinosaur being ridden by Sarah Palin
-
One Giant Squid of the Great Depths, being ridden by Freddy Mercury
-
An offshore oil rig



ask me anything

Questions, sort of....

Sip sop sip sop! SOOOoooop! SiiiiIIIIp! Sip sop!

Are you eating bread and soup? My favorite kind of soup is the pea soup my mom makes, with carrots and ham. I tried to make it once, and ended up burning the peas to the bottom of my crock pot, which I then really didn't want to clean so I didn't. It got really moldy and I was tempted to just throw it out, but instead I lit a bunch of scented candles, opened all the windows, and cleaned that bitch out. It was horrible. But I did it. Eventually I do it.

The other possibility is that you are a milk monster. Milk monsters live in your refrigerator and turn your milk invisible, so you forget its there until you really want some rice chex and then you find out the milk is not quite turned, but turned enough, and you end up eating rice chex out of the box. Which I guess is one of the reasons you hear stories about people eating cereal with beer or orange juice. Milk monsters suck, and if you are one, I hope the baking soda suffocates you.

Point is, I have a very unclean kitchen usually.

Why is your photo here radiating mischief, whereas your, uh, other one looks like you're pissed off that you're bored? Is it the cat? You're not a cat, are you?

For those who are not in the know, ie Facebook friends with me, this question is referring to this picture...

I don't think I look pissed in that picture. I do think Eddy looks like she is going to eat my eyeball, which is why I like it, because that's exactly what Eddy would do if I died in my apartment and no one noticed for a while. She would go straight for the soft sweet eyeball. She is resourceful like that.

No, I am not a cat. I would think that would be obvious from the picture, as I am next to the cat. I am on occasion covered with enough cat hair that in person, you might make that mistake. Also, people tend to be allergic to me. But definitely not a cat.

I am never bored if someone is paying attention to me. Which is why I have cats. And I keep them hungry.

ok i went to see the banksy movie and they had a song that i liked and it turned out to be one of the pulp bandmembers. i did not have pulp on the mind all this time but it just turned out this way. check out www.richardhawley.co.uk --c.



First of all, now I have to see the Banksy movie. I found a review that said "Even the soundtrack is like a hip-hop version of Henry Mancini." SOLD.

But I gotta say, I didn't like the Richard Hawley stuff so much. I'm going to get the album and give it a full and proper listen though, because hey, Pulp. But I find Pulp band member solo stuff lacks the smarmy danciness of the band. I mean, the smarmy is there. But the dancey is not.

Thanks for tip though Cat.

Who is worse LeBron or Satan?

For those of you who live in a world outside Cleveland, the Cavs lost the semi-finals last night, and everyone is super mad at Lebron, because they say he played poorly. They are not using the word "poorly", in most cases, but that's what they generally mean. I didn't watch the game last night, or the one before it, because I was working. Also because I don't really give a shit. But I was among people last night after the game, and I was reading my twitter feed during, and let me tell you, twitter is hilarious. It went from "Cavs Cavs Cavs!" to "Fuck LeBron, with various degrees of hostility over the course of the game. This tells me that Cleveland is a bunch of turncoats. You people will abandon anyone and anything in the blink of an eye. I'm not saying I think you should hold Lebron in such fucking self-esteem anyway, but after six months of hearing how he's the Great Hope of the City, now you want to stab him in the back and bury him on the East Bank? I think you are all rejecting him out of insecurity, cause you know he's going to leave the team next year and all you'll have left is Vareajo. Whose entire career consists of him falling down.

Satan wins. Nobody born in Akron can fall from grace because they were already born out of grace. I know, I was born in Akron. It's like a tire stain on your soul.

Have you heard of the Clock Without a Face? I think you could find the emeralds - http://gustwintig.com

This is great. I'm going to do something like this someday, but instead of emeralds I will use My Little Ponies. Once you collect all of them, they will activate and allow you to target any electro-magnetic source in the world, and turn it off. Think about it.

Ask Me Anything

Strictly Speaking, I'm on the Side of the Carnivores. They are Smarter.

Isn't horse racing kinda mean?

Isn't eating cows kinda mean?
And keeping gorillas in plaster rock climbing cages?
And not letting the pigs eat the truffles they find?
And letting little kids kick the shit out of ponies while learning to ride?
And keeping your cat inside an apartment, with his only link to the outside through screen windows, where the prey he naturally longs to kill is taunting him not 2 feet away?
Don't you ever lie in bed at night, thinking of all the animal muscle and skin and bone digesting inside your carnivorous unsatisfied gurgling cave of a body, and doesn't the guilt rise up somewhere in your chest like a smothered barely flickering light, reminding you of your untapped ability to evolve both in consciousness and digestion, if ever one day the light could make the dangerous journey to the part of your head where empathy lies? I feel it, I am capable of compassion after all. But for the moment, and probably forever, I am definitely a member of the ruling class.

Considering the rest of our sins, isn't racing horses, instead of making them pull carts or eating them or making glue out of their hoofs, kinda the least of it?

Do you like Emily Gould? Please say no.

I had to look up who Emily Gould was. I knew the name was familiar, but couldn't place it. Turns out she's a woman, approximately my age, who is currently out being way more successful than me at selling her words. I'm not sure why I'm supposed to dislike her? I haven't read her book, but she has one. Someone published it for her. I happen to like Gawker, a lot. So I don't hold that against her. I don't particularly like her blog, but not a lot of people like mine, so who am I to criticize?

One weird thing about internet celebrity is that since it's online, everyone is expected to have an opinion about you. It's like, why are you on the internet at all if you don't have an opinion, right? I don't need to have an opinion about Emily Gould. She doesn't intersect with my life at all in any way that matters. In the absence of any real conviction or need, I will go to my default setting, which is that I like her fine. I know, everyone thinks I'm so mean and snarky and pessimistic. But I totally like you all, until you give me reason not to. I think that's the first step to being a nice person.

I totally just schooled you on being nice. Next time I write about the lemon drop sluts at the bar last night, remind me of this.


What do you have against sweet monkey chaps?

My problem with the above sentence is threefold.

1) The word sweet means something amiable, pleasing, gracious, sugary. It does not mean cool. Cool doesn't even mean cool. But I prefer it's usage over "sweet", because while there are a million words for cold I can use instead, there are not that many flavors.

2) Chaps are offensive, period. Always. They are ugly. They are completely unnecessary unless you are driving cattle for weeks, and can't afford to buy multiple pairs of jeans.

3) Monkeys clothed in the dead skin of another animal is creepy, and really makes you think about your place in the universe in a very uncomfortable though thoroughly realistic way. Monkeys remind me of where we came from, and where we need to run from. It's hard to run in leather. It is, however, easy to wield a gun.




Ask Me Anything

The Only Post You Will Need to Get Thru The Weekend

Coffee or tea?

Tea is for people who don't care to feel alive anymore. Sick people. Weak people. People scared of their own power. Tea is for people who don't want to run faster, think smarter, enunciate words properly, have sex before bed. You know what they grow in secret on tea plantations? Marijuana. You know what they grow in secret on coffee plantations? Cocaine.

Drinking coffee is saying to the universe daily "fine. kill me. See if that fucking stops me."

Where did the time go?

You are going to have to clarify what particular unit of time you're talking about, and in whose construct? If it's my construct, then it leaked out slowly between episodes of Bones and a new obsession with Jello salads. If it's yours, it was probably decimated by the endless hours playing Mass Effect 2 OR watching Yacht Rock videos on YouTube. You should go mow the lawn. And I should do my dishes. But we're not gonna, and that's just how it goes.

What kinds of monsters live under Lake Erie?

Let's see. Giant sturgeon. Giant catfish. Parasitic zebra mussels. Bone stripping Corn Obsessed carp. Sheephead, otherwise known as the slightly annoying unicorns of Ohio's waterways. The nasty, barely educated, sexually offensive ghosts of lots of 19th century sailors. The slightly less offensive but patently passive aggressive ghosts of draft dodgers. Aliens made of oil locked in ship holds. The secret lair of the mutant seagulls, and the steroid pumped evil blind water otter that protects their stronghold. Oh, and snakes. Lots of snakes.

What do you make of these? Octopus Chandeliers. Would you put one in your house? Which color? What room? If no, why not?

This is the best thing I have ever seen today. I want them all. In particular I want the green one, for my bedroom. So I can fall asleep every night protected by my guardian octopus, and have safe squiddliscious dreams. I want the pink one for my car.

You should get one for me just for making up the word squiddliscious, right now.

Which Winnie the Pooh character are you, and why?

I am a Heffalump. You can't catch me, I will eat all your honey, and I don't actually exist.

What do you think of obvious sorority girls who wear pink North Face jackets? Why do you judge them so much?

I don't actually judge them that much. I appreciate having a warm jacket. When I was little, my mom always bought us those Lands Ends winter coats, that were short and in bright colors. I hate them visually, but those things were fucking warm. And they lasted forever. Someday I will get old enough to not care about the kind of coat I am wearing, and buy myself one of those again. So hey, you can afford a North Face jacket? Good for you for dressing reasonably according to the weather.

The girls I judge are the ones wearing high heels in January in Cleveland. What the fuck? Is there some surgery you can get to turn off all feeling below your knees that I'm not aware of? Is your plan just to expose your skin to biting winds and freezing ice and rock salt so often, your nerve endings just die? Do your toes even work anymore?

Who is on your "blocked call" list and why?

I fucking wish I could figure out how to work a blocked call list. I don't think I even have that option, cause I have cheapie cell service. But do we seriously even have that anymore? I mean, you can see who's calling, and just not pick up?

If you were going to eat one thing for the rest of your life, and it wasn't bone marrow, what would it be?

Freezee Pops.

What's your favorite sport to play? To watch? To watch while playing another sport? To play while watching another sport? To watch sorority girls in pink North Face jackets play?

I like horse racing and bowling. Basketball is okay to watch even though I don't understand the nuances because at least it moves fast. Football is fun when I get to curse other teams out in some sort of fantasy that I belong to an actual fan base. Ann Arbors A Whore! I imagine the only sport where you see girls in pink jackets playing is skiing, and that shit is boring after the first couple runs. Why are you so obsessed with pink North Face jackets? Please tell me.

What are five things you tried and will never do again? Why?

1. White Castle burgers
2. ***censored***
3. ***censored***
4. raw deer
5. ***censored***


Ask Me Anything

Yay Questions! ( the post formerly known as "If I didn't like you so much, I'd call this Formspring Friday. What? Right.")

Which is better: a vibrator or a man? And why?

A man does not eat batteries like some sort of Martian invading robot, scuttling through the English countryside burning everything in its path and surviving on Double As.

A vibrator does not wake you up in the morning with an energetic discussion about the various merits of LL Cool J aka The Goat, and then play you a medley of Battle Hymns between him and some dickwad named Cannabis who says the word faggot way too often to be taken seriously.

A man also comes in three speeds, but that has less to do with design and more to do with alcohol consumption.

A vibrator will not make you dinner.

A man cannot be hidden in the drawer next to your bed or under your pillow, and never be discussed with friends and family. You can try, but it won't work.

A vibrator does not have to go to work in the morning.

A man can be brought to social functions and shown off in front of friends.

A vibrator does not leave you drunk singing voice mails.

A man requires you to sometimes get out of bed and wear decent clothes. Which means doing laundry on a more regular basis.

So I think maybe it's a tie. You don't really need either of them, but they are nice to have around.

Have you seen this cyclist in West Park? He rides around holding a CB walkie-talkie and pedals around. I first saw him after a blizzard 3 years ago on his bike peddling around. I just saw him last night peddling out of the crazy metroparks hill by Story R

You're talking about the Lone Rider of Kamm's Corners. The only thing standing between peaceful city neighborhood and bloody violent anarchy on the streets. The Bicyclist of Divine Vengeance. The Randonneur of Retribution. He can signaled by putting a beer mirror out with your trash on the curb. He's also available for plowing.

No. I have no idea what you're talking about. I never leave my house. All my windows are covered in tin foil. I try to avoid making eye contact with my neighbors.

But good for him. Story is a bitch. I have to drive my bike down to the parks and ride, because I can't get up those hills yet. Also because I'm super out of shape and genetically predisposed against going uphill ever.

Ask Me Anything

I love you people asking me questions.

is there anyway we county residents can whack every shitbum politician in this town and their puppet precinct bosses? Okay. Sure, there are some who do good for us serfs, but could it be like a combined hit and no one gets caught?

By "whacked" and "hit", I assume that you are referring to the time honored Welsh tradition of pummeling public servants with large salmon every spring. It's an oldie but a goodie. I think the execution of it should be simple. We just need to start a grassroots campaign online, storm a meeting or two, and get everyone a very large fish.

We'll need cabbage to make the traditional fermented celebratory drink, and you should probably get started on that now, it takes a few months.

Do you like me yes or no.

I like this question for sure. I've always like this question. I think there's this great, completely unique, unable to be fabricated sincerely, makes the inside of you smile no matter what the source feeling that comes when someone asks you that question.

So yes, I like you, because you asked me that question.

However.

There are lots of ways I could like or dislike you, seeing as I don't know who you are at all. I could think you're really cute. Or I could think your face is kinda weird. I could maybe have no idea of your existence at all, and you just submitted this random question cause you thought it was funny, without knowing at all what's going on in my inner or outer life, and anticipating it might mean anything at all. You could be an ex. I could be waiting by the phone for you to call, or I could be refreshing your FB page while not writing you anything, or I could be actively trying to forget meeting you that one time cause it made me really uncomfortable.

I'll tell you what. 1000 dollars, I like you.

When was the last time you really wanted to punch someone's lights out, and why?

Look, I don't punch things, I throw things. And it's a terrible trait, and something I hate and try to control, because I break shit. Some people just break shit. So I don't like to talk about it, because it's part of the very large dark side of me I try really hard to keep from anyone.

My lighter side also headbutts people a lot, like a baby dinosaur. Someone used to call me a turtle.

Ask me anything