Sunday, January 5, 2014

Musings of a Muser Without a Muse: 2014

Hello internet.

I never know how to start these things. Should I apologize for not writing earlier? I meant to, it's just that, you know, I got busy, I didn't know what to say. I started to write something, a hundred times, but every time I hit delete, delete, delete.

Shall we start with some small talk? How was your New Years? Mine was great actually, went out for dinner and a couple drinks with some friends. I didn't stay home this year, like you heard me proclaim I was going to do. How bout this cold front?

I know, I'm being a terrible conversationalist. I've rewritten every paragraph, and it's still terrible. You are a kind and patient listener. I promise that I will reward you with a GIF at the end of this monstrosity of a post if I can figure out how to make one. You'll love it.

I wish I had something to rant or rave about or even something to make you laugh. LOL, at the very least. I'm writing this just to get myself back in the mode of writing. It's been awhile and I miss it so, and one of these days I will please you with a random rambling and make you giggle.

One thing that I will leave you with, my goals for 2014:

1. Pay off my credit card.
2. Organize my apartment so that it's more of a home.
3. Date more.
4. Volunteer.
5. Read 12 books.
6. Fall in love.
7. Connect with friends and family on a weekly basis.
8. Work out twice a week.
9. Give cooking a shot.
10. Keep blogging, write every month.

Okay, so I couldn't figure out how to make a GIF (I spent all of 30 seconds), so here is a video. I tried uploading the video 5 times. Figured out how to make a GIF instead. Love it. Cherish it.

Merci beaucoup mes amis, je vous adore.

À bientôt! xo

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Semi-Sober: A Journey to Adulthood

Since I started drinking, I've had a problem knowing when to stop. There's been a couple of years (more specifically the summers of 2003 and 2007, especially 2007) where I was a heavy partier. It's gone up and down throughout the years, but I vary from being a bit of a hermit to an out-at-all-hours party girl. I'm good at extremes.

Recently, I've realized that I've designated myself as the "fun girl". I don't know if other people share this same notion of me, it's completely all in my head. I realized this in the car yesterday. That's how recent this actualization was. I'll spare you the manic train of thoughts that led me to that AHA moment. Anywho, being this fun girl, well a lot of the time it involved Drunk Alex, and I would let loose another part of myself. She laughs, she dances, she's bold and she falls. I'm also like that when I'm sober, but to a lesser degree. I still fall. Trying to be a fun girl is exhausting; I rarely said no to going out, was always up for more, more, more. Was I genuinely having fun? Most of the time, yes, I was. I was having a blast. 

But then it went from being funny to being reckless. My shenanigans stopped being cute. My hangovers became more of a nuisance because I actually had plans the next day. I'm not in my early twenties anymore and 30 is staring at me like, "buddy, get your shit together before you hit a wall." And I've hit many, many a wall. 

I'm sure many of you have had one too many drinks, forgotten to say to yourselves, "hold on, this tequila shot will probably result in my singing to the porcelain gods, no thanks." And it's not that I only binge drink. I don't. I can easily have 1 drink, or none, but more and more when I've gone out on weekends I've gone hard. Too hard. I skinned my bloody knees recently. Or rather, skinned them bloody. My friend's mom pointed out that I should have stopped skinning my knees when I was six. (At first I thought she said that I should only be skinning my knees during sex, and I was pretty shocked.)
I'm still nursing that one knee back to health.

Staring at all my reckless behaviour and stupidity over the past couple of years, rather than laughing it off as I've done, I realized that I need to change something. Anybody remember that scene from Sex and the City where Carrie's friend is still partying hard in her late 30s and falls out a window and dies? Yeah, I don't want to be her. (Also her name in the show is Lexi and yeah, I was all shit, son!) 

So here begins my 4 month journey of semi-sober. I put some guidelines down so that I couldn't cheat, especially because I have no self-control. I have only allotted 4 occasions, 1 per month, that I am allowed to drink, and only 2 drinks those nights. I could have allowed myself to drink a glass of wine or beer at dinner, but I think this will be a good test of character, will and self-discovery for me to go semi-sober. Why allow the 1 night each month then? Well it started because I have some big events coming up, such as my birthday and my friend's wedding, and because I think that it is way more likely that I will succeed if I make it realistic for myself. It's also a good test. Can I only drink 2 on my birthday when people want to buy me drinks? I 100% know that I can, and it will be cheaper for everybody. Win-win. Another reason why is because I can be a bit of an extremist, and that it never a good idea. This is in the middle, and it feels good.

With all this money that I'll have saved, I'm definitely buying myself a pony.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Do You Face Your Attacker?

I know, it's been awhile since I've written. Awhile? A long time. And I'm not sure when I will write again after this. However I felt that this was important to share, and it's taken me awhile to work through this. You may remember my post a couple years ago about a rando that I met at the bar whose name was Awesome. I posted a sound clip of numerous voice mails that he had left for me, as I had thought they were extreme and funny and wanted to share them with my readers. All of 30 people read that post. A couple of days later someone posted a nasty note on Reddit linking to my blog, claiming to be Awesome and making up random things behind the phone calls that they supposedly left. I knew beyond a doubt that it was not the person who left the voice mails and had an inkling that it was someone I knew that posted it. This didn't stop the hundreds of hate comments I received, death threats and my picture and personal information (Facebook account, email address, and other links to my personal information) being posted on other trolly websites. I received emails and Facebook messages and ended up completely blacking out all of my accounts. And then it ended and the trolls moved on to someone else to attack. I never thought that I would out who felt the need to do such a malicious thing. However a few weeks ago my brother told me that he was told who it was. I screamed. I screamed bloody murder for about 10 minutes. It was someone who I went to high school with. We were never friends, nor were we enemies. To my knowledge, I never did anything to him. When I found out, all sorts of revenge ideas were streaming through my head, I wanted him to pay, I wanted him to know what hell he put me through, I wanted to see his remorse. And I wanted to punch him in the face. With my fist. The next day, I wanted to contact him and meet him in person to let him know that there are consequences for your actions. And then the anger subsided. Nothing I said would change what happened. It was years ago and it doesn't matter any more. I'm not writing for anybody to get angry for me. More of a lesson. Every action has a consequence, and just because you can't see the person's face, they are human and they have feelings. Also, don't name your kid Awesome. Or Wispy. So, Jeff. If you are reading this I hope that you never do what you did to me to anybody else.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

I was born with multiple personalities

My mother had my name picked out before she knew that I was a girl.

Alexandra etymologizes* from Ancient Greek. They didn't mess around back then, and I believe that there was a lot of thought put into this name. Let's break it up into its syllables. First, we have 'Alex', how do you do. Then we have 'and', a connector. Lastly, we have this tiny little 'ra'. Where does ra come from? More importantly, who is ra?

Keep up with me folks, I'm going somewhere with this. I believe that the Greeks knew that whoever was born an Alexandra, wouldn't just have some humdrum personality. They would have personality and a LOT of it. Alex would do for every day personality, but every now and then ra would come out. You wouldn't be able to put your finger on it, but when talking to Alexandra, at times something would seem just slightly ra-ish.

ra would like to say that she wrote this post. She is fairly quirky, and mostly crazy. She spins from one idea to another, and Alex apologizes if you couldn't keep up.

Yeah, I wrote a post about have more than one personality and have now convinced you that I am certifiably insane. Love it. Just love it.

After Skyping with my parents the other night, I ended with "love you both", to which she replied "love you both... err.. both your personalities." Proof that she knew I'd be deserving of the name Alexandra.

*I made up that word.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Brain Word Fart Block Thing

I miss writing. I miss being able to write, and sitting down and telling a story. But then this evil writing word fart block monster came and it hasn't left. I have all these drafts sitting here, completely unfinished and very lame. Did you know that there is one about life as a male poodle? And one about how I should probably become a lesbian? Oddly enough, I chopped off all my hair recently. Step 1, check. But that's beside the point. Point is, WHERE ARE MY WORDS AND STRINGING TOGETHER OF THEM CAPABILITY?

I've lost you now, haven't I? Well, if I haven't, I will tell you a little ditty of a story.

This New Years I decided I wanted to do something different. After spending a month actively trying to remember what I did last new years eve (I was home on antibiotics and was passed out before midnight), all I could think of were past years of disappointment. And hangovers, so many hangovers. Year after year, without fail I would wake up on January 1st with an overwhelming sense of blahhhh. And then remember how much money I spent and look over at the hooker next to me and think, "was it all worth it?" The hooker was of course worth it, the rest of the night... meh. I love me a good hooker.

So this year I actively made no plans. Instead I watched kick ass Criminal Minds marathon. It was amazing. Of course, no new years is complete without a hooker, and I have a special new years eve harlot.

Ok, so I lied. I don't have any hookers or harlots. I didn't want to alarm anybody with my lame sober new years. Even though it was the best new years ever. Really. Even without drunk Alex. New Years drunk Alex is a meanie. She doesn't like the hoopla either.

Sober Alex also has some slight anger issues that she needs to deal with and is unsure of how drunk Alex will handle them. It's all fun and games until someone pisses a bitch off.

Maybe there will be less drunk Alex stories, but don't worry kids, there will probably be some angry Alex stories. Do you think they will let me write in prison? Can you imagine the stories I'll have from prison?? "Alex Gets Searched", "Alex Drops Soap", "Alex in Chains", "Alex Gets Her First Bitch". I'll have to rename my blog lexintheclink. Catchy, no?

I think I found my inspiration.

I apologize for the nonsensical post.

Oh and here's my short hair. Perfect for both becoming a lesbian and going to prison.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Best Places to Hide...

I was going to title this post "Best Places to Hide if You're a Rapist"... but I just don't have time to be questioned by the police right now. But yes, let us all assume that if you are a rapist, these would be excellent places to hide. You should leave your scorn at the door for this one.

Oh, so this idea came to me not while planning an attack, but while talking about how much I love to hide. Always have. I am the most patient person in the world if I am anticipating a good scare on my prey.

So here are my top 12 (because I had more than 10) places to hide:

1. In an alley way. Preferably one with dark corners and random cut-outs.

2. Behind a tree. However, if it is at night, you need to make sure that your shadow isn't showing, it totally gives you away.

3. The back seat. Crack a window.

4. Behind a door. This is one of my favourites. If you are anticipating someone coming through a door, hide behind it, then when they open and close it, BAM there you are right on the other side.

5. Basements. This requires the utmost patience. But is well worth the wait.

6. Laundry baskets. This only works if you are under 10 and can fit in one.

7. In the shower. Unless they are about to poop.

8. In a clothes rack in a large store. Preferably one that has long garments hanging to hide your feet.

9. Under the bed. Unless you had a low bed, because even if you do fit under it just snugly, when someone lies down on it, the joke is on you. Especially if you suffocate and die.

10. In a cupboard or closet. Make sure there is nothing potentially toxic spilling onto any body parts if you are hiding under the kitchen sink.

11. Outside a window. This one is best pulled off with a build up of rapping lightly on the window and hiding. And then just appearing.

12. If you have perfected the stalker walk (walking quietly at the exact same pace as your prey), then just sneaking up behind them is often a marvelous little kick.

I think I will stop there before I sound too creepy. Too late?

Well, let me leave you with this advice. Do not hide anywhere too high, like in a tree, where you could fall and seriously injure yourself. Know your prey. Do they punch when frightened? Prepare to duck. Do they carry pepper spray? Wear a mask. I mean, just avoid them all together. Do they have a heart condition? Know where your nearest defibrillator is.

And when times are tough, just picture their reactions and faces when you scared them. It always cheers me up. Am I messed up a little in the head? Dark and twisted? Slightly. But do I giggle like a child when I have executed the perfect hide-and-scream? Yes. And there is nothing like a child's laughter. Ok, so my giggle sounds more like a cackle, and it's more like an evil hag than a child. But there's nothing like that either.

Perfect tree to hide behind

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

A hate-hate relationship..

First off, let me apologize for going MIA, yet again.. I feel like I've lost my mojo. I'm not sure where it went, or why, but it's gone. I blame it on a wire misfire in my brain, but that's another story for another day. This little ditty is something that I'm pretty passionate about.

It's about my hate-hate relationship with my computers. I vehemently hate both my personal computer and my work computer. I have a daily urge to pick up my laptop and SLAM IT INTO THE WALL AND WATCH IT SMASH INTO SMITHEREENS. Yeah. That's how strong my feelings are. All caps.

Anywho, where were we?

Right, anger management classes.

So here is a little conversation between my computers and I on a regular day.

ME: Good morning computer.

COMP: 5 more minutes, it's not time to wake up yet.

ME: What? No, the sun's been up for at least 4 hours, wake up please.

COMP: 5 more minutes.

ME: Wake the fuck up. I have work to do.

COMP: 5 more minutes..

ME: It's been 5 fucking minutes, now stop showing me the "Windows is Starting Up" screen and get your shit together.

COMP: Ughhhh... Fiiiinnneeee. Why you gots to be like that? I am tired. I am old. These legs aren't what they used to be. It takes time to get out of bed.

ME: What? You don't have legs. You don't have a bed, you - 

COMP: I DON'T HAVE LEGS?! OR A BED?! Cannot compute. Cannot compute.

Me: This is not happening. You did not just freeze because you realized that you're a freaking computer. Hello?? Where are my programs? Why aren't you connecting to the internet??

COMP: Cannot compute. Too sad. Stop tapping my screen.

ME: I might have to throw you against the wall today. Today is going to be the day that you meet your maker.

COMP: Hewlett?? Packard?? Which one? Oooh please let it be Packard!

ME: My computer might be retarded. How did you pass the test? I'm going to have a stress ulcer.

COMP: Test..? Why are you drumming your fingers? What is that look in your eye? Is that.... pop? What is that soda doing hovering above my keyboard?

ME: Connect. To. The. Internet.

COMP: I surrender! Here! It's connected! Oh god I can't work under these conditions.

ME: Don't fucking freeze again! I haven't even opened up one single program you piece of shit. It's been 20 minutes since I turned you on.

COMP: 1. I am not a piece of shit. 2. I'm tired. 3. You do not turn me on at all. 

ME: I'll replace you with a mac.

COMP: That is an empty threat, you and I both know that. 

ME: Maybe instead of talking to me you should be starting up my programs, like I asked about 5 minutes ago. I have emails to respond to.

COMP: I'm lonely. 

ME: I'll find you a good dating site.

COMP: Dude, I'm only 3, I'm too young for a dating site. You, on the other hand, aren't as plucky as you used to be.

ME: Just start up my browser. I have emails to respond to.

COMP: Touchy subject? I mean, you are talking to a computer after all. (Which, I am still trying to compute.)

ME: Shut your face. Wait, why is my page not responding?! I didn't do anything!!

COMP: You made a face joke. I don't appreciate your sense of humour.

ME: Swear to fucking god, you are about to see the white light.


ME: ... at this time user is unavailable. User is currently seizing and may possibly have experienced an aneurysm.

COMP: Back to sleep for this computer.

This is the shit I have to deal with. Every morning. I have 2 of them too. Not just one. Two computers that drive me up the wall. They drive me to drink.