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Not the last time my friend Briar was in town, but the time before, she and her husband stayed with us while he was recovering from his hysterectomy. I was thrilled to have them stay with us, and was anxious that his surgery went well, but was mostly excited to be able to tell people, "My friend Briar and her husband are staying with us while her husband recovers from his hysterectomy." It's one of those phrases that you don't really get to utter, or hear, very often in life. The day that her husband came back from the hospital, Briar announced matter-of-factly, "We have a whole jar of Percocet!" As if the fact that he had something made it automatically hers as well. He didn't seem to mind, but maybe it was the Percocet.
Jenya and I do not have such a casual sharing of our things, but then again, we aren't married, although we do live together, in sin. We are both only children, but while she is a very accomplished sharer, I like to have things that are my own. All mine, and maybe I will share it with you, but only if I offer, not if you just take it.
I am wondering if somewhere along with getting married comes a "everything is now ours" clause. I think that if there is such a clause I will strike it out and change it to "I want some of all of your things, but you should have to ask me before you have some of my things." And to make it fair, I might be willing to ask before taking your things. Also, when people get married do they automatically start having shared monies and finances? And what about schedules? Once people are married do they know what the other person is doing all the time? Like "my spouse is not at home, my spouse is out buying shoes" sort of a thing. These are the things I am wondering about this morning.
posted by Alana 2/13/2003 11:07:50 AM
People. I know I have mentioned this before, but I just have to bring this up again.
Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why do I talk to myself while I'm walking down the street?
It is appalling and embarrassing behavior and a clear sign of my insanity. While discussing my obvious insanity with my therapist this morning he sat there grinning at me. I mean, I realize that I am a comedian, and blessed with the gift of making the masses laugh, but... Stevie, donotlaughatmeintherapy. Unless I am making a joke, and even then maybe don't laugh because you're only encouraging my behavior. My behavior which obviously leads to talking to myself while walking down the street.
hmph.
posted by Alana 2/13/2003 03:07:15 PM
If you happen to be around me the day that I decide I want to eat meat--which is unlikely--you would be best off providing me with one of the following meat foods:
- Sausage patties. The spicy kind from Louisiana that my grandmother used to bring back each year.
- Tuna melts. The kind that Annette, my babysitter used to make.
- Corned beef hash.
- Honey ham. The kind that Mama Jessie used to make with the cloves shoved in and the pineapple rings on it.
- Stuffing.
- French onion soup.
- Baked potato with cheese, chives, sour cream and bacon bits.
- BLT.
- Hot Links.
- Linguica and eggs.
- Crab Rangoon.
- Caviar and other roe.
- Fish that are not longer than I am tall.
- Fried Chicken. Only if made by my mom.
- Fish and Chips.
- That stuff. What IS that stuff? Dried Salami or something?
- Caterpillar roll. Unless it is made with big fish and I don't know it, then strike it from the record.
- Pork Chops.
- Chili. Or Frito Pie.
- Corn Dog!
posted by Alana 2/12/2003 09:01:47 AM
My "friends" who have the same first or last names and my theories on whether or not they are the same person:
1. Lisa and Lisa: Not to be confused with Lisa Lisa. Younger Lisa is single and an innocent. Sorta. Older Lisa is living with her lady-friend. Both are from or live in Los Angeles. Although Lisa the younger claims to be straight, I would like her better if she were a lesbian. I like her a lot as it is, though. Both are brilliant with writing down the words. Consensus: Older Lisa is my ideal grown-up version of Younger Lisa.
2. Josh and Josh: Ideal Dad vs. Bachelor Charmer. Both are clever...Maybe too clever. Laid back? Yes to both. Bon Vivant? Yes to Josh the Bachelor Charmer, TBD for Josh the Ideal Dad. Both are geeky when it comes to Lord of the Rings, which I have never read. Both are fans of the Alana. Consensus: Different people who should play cribbage together.
3. Mike and Mike: One is in a constant state of dating or not dating, the other is living with his lady-friend. One is a comedian/actor, the other is a technical writer. One likes to hike, and bike ride, and do other things outdoors; the other likes Ben & Jerry's Phish Food. Consensus: Never the two shall meet.
4. Julie and Julie: One "clogs" and one "soft-shoes". Both make me laugh and are guarded. One lives in Texas the other in New York. One is the queen of good grammar, the other is a jazz singer and I have no idea of her writing ability. Both are allergic to cats. Consensus: Same person.
5. Bob and Bob and Bob and Bob: One is my dad, who also happens to be the funniest man alive. The other three all work with me. One of those three reports to another of those three. Two of those three have been given nicknames be me, so as to not confuse my friends when I am talking about them. Consensus: Bob my dad could beat all of them up. The other three: Same person.
posted by Alana 2/11/2003 11:44:23 AM
Me: Knock Knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Doctor.
You: Doctor who?
Me: I love that show!
You: Why did you just say that?
Me: I don't know, it just seemed like something funny to say.
You: You've never even seen Dr. Who.
Me: True, but it was funny. It was a funny device within the knock knock structure.
You: But why are you writing stupid knock knock jokes?
Me: Knock knock jokes are the knew porn-ku.
You: Yeah, but that wasn't pornographic.
Me: Oh. pause Knock knock.
You: Who's there?
Me: Who
You: Who who?
Me: Actually, I prefer the term beaver.
posted by Alana 2/10/2003 04:04:35 PM
If you loved me, you would have made me an omelet this morning, and buttermilk biscuits, and coffee. And you would have put the newspaper on the table, too. And you would have called my boss to say I couldn't come in to work today because I am a superstar and can't be expected to care about such things as work on a day like today. And you, too, would have stayed home from work. And we would have wandered around the house in our pajamas until it was time to go into the square to rent porno for the new DVD player, and also you would let me rent Crossroads because today would be the day that you would accept the brilliance that is Britney into your life. And I would make snowballs and throw them at you, and you would throw one back at me and it would hit me and I would be mad. And then we would go back home and try to make a snowman in the yard, but it wouldn't work out and so we would make a snow left breast. And then we would make cocoa and drink it and eat girl scout cookies. We would turn the heat up in the house and fool around. If you loved me we would make soup for dinner and eat it at the table with the candles lit and Charlie Parker in the background because we would be just that classy.
posted by Alana 2/7/2003 09:32:02 AM
Just a few of my favorite things: Ice cream cones in the winter. Nick Paumgarten's *Talk of the Town* columns in the New Yorker. 8 week old chocolate labs on my way to therapy. The scene in *The Talented Mr. Ripley* where Philip Seymour Hoffman can't keep his legs crossed. Okay, puppy mouths in general. Being the cause of someone else's spit take. Announcing every rainbow flag bumper sticker I see like this "Queers on the left!" or "Queers in the SUV!" etc. The drive to New York when the leaves are changing. Blackjack. Young daughters with their dads. When people's eyes water when they talk about a subject they love passionately. Kids on skateboards. Warm donuts. Gorgonzola. When my dad calls "to make the chit-chat". Jenya's cooking and freakishly small head. Betta fish. Brad Pitt's good bits. Elephants. Feeding the cat in the morning. Watching people fall asleep while reading on the subway. My girl troops. Anything that makes me laugh. Montepulciano d'Abruzzo.
posted by Alana 2/6/2003 12:21:14 PM
Silly Martha seems to think that a stupid post is better than no post at all. She was all excited over the instant messenger, all telling me that she blogged and then I went and read not one, but two consecutive blogs of expository blandness. I told her that her blog sucks and she told me that "at least I posted to my blog" as if you, my readers and fans, would rather me post something entirely lame and boring than nothing at all. But I know you better than that people. Trust me. I know.
posted by Alana 2/5/2003 01:50:16 PM
I'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line I got to the point where a night like last night--a night spent surrounded by my stacks of old New Yorkers clipping out the articles I still want to read and the ones I want to keep so that I could save some space in the apartment--is a stellar night. A glass of cheap wine, a sappy movie on TBS and a two-hour project. It's the formula for an A+ evening. I am getting old I think.
N***, my writer-friend at work hears the daily updates of my latest project "Operation: To Do List". In the hopes of clearing out the final cobwebs from my year-of-depression and getting back into the full-speed swing of things, I made a list of all of the non-emotional things that are keeping me from coming out swinging. Stupid things--things like how I have let everything get so messy and disorganized because I haven't had the energy or motivation to do anything but stare at the ceiling--things like organizing my New Yorkers and cleaning out the coat closet and shredding my out of date invoices. I made a list of twenty things on Friday and have four things left. I am a machine, and my boasting about the whole thing is N***'s easiest artillery for making fun of who I am. I mean that in a nicer way than it sounds. I like people who can make lighthearted fun of the way I do things without diminishing me, because I do realize that I am a walking sit-com, and it means that they are paying attention. And I like attention.
posted by Alana 2/4/2003 10:34:40 AM
Partway through our third anniversary celebration day, I told Jenya that I was going to start celebrating our anniversary with someone else. I mean, she's a good time and all, but I am going to start spending my anniversary with someone who doesn't go on and on about wanting to wash her hands before eating the M&Ms we just bought even though she's wearing gloves. Or someone who doesn't find it necessary to grab my tits while I am doing the hard work of guiding us through the light deprivation corridors at the ICA and then innocently claim "how else am I supposed to hold on to you?" Someone who doesn't make the cute lips pursed and blushing face when she misses her fifteenth "easy" pool shot in a row. "If I can't make this shot, I am retarded," she would claim, before missing the shot. Someone who doesn't inform me that I don't need my own personal pitcher of sangria at the tapas bar and instead we should share one. Someone who doesn't give me homemade fortune cookies with my own fortunes in them and expect me to break open and eat them all immediately.
posted by Alana 2/3/2003 11:18:49 AM
About my cat:
Our last house-guests gave our cat, Elijah a ball of yarn with which to play. He creates works of multimedia fine art throughout the house. Running with the yarn and getting it caught on anything it can possibly get caught on. He picks up the ball of yarn sometimes and runs around the house with it, as if he were a puppydog. If you throw the yarn to him he will have it strung throughout the entire room in less than five minutes. He then sits and stares at his art. I then announce to him "Elijah, you've broken it WIDE open." He is very proud.
Our cat does not like it when we close the bathroom door to take a shower. The bathroom door should never be closed according to Elijah, and there's really nothing we can do about this, since the door does not lock and if you push on it, it will just open. So if you go into the bathroom and close the door, within a minute he will push the door open and stand on the threshold.
Our cat is often too lazy to actually meow. If he has things to say and you are looking directly at him, he will merely open his mouth as if to meow, but make no sound. As if he were conserving his energy for other occasions.
Our cat is an indoor/outdoor cat. When he wants to come back inside he meows at the front or back door. Sometimes we don't hear him. When he is tired of being left outside and we do not immediately respond to his meows, he goes around to the side of the house and throws himself at the window. Those of us on the inside are treated to occasional flashes of his side against the window and the sound of the window rattling. I think he might be a genius.
posted by Alana 1/31/2003 09:42:55 AM
My agenda for my 1/30/03 blog:
1. Introductions and Call to Order.
2. Work Complaints
3. About My Therapist
4. About Jenya's Mother
5. Wrap-up and Sign Off
1. Hi. Me again.
2. Just one more reason why I hate the Germans: they just blocked our access to our web-based emails. I was checking my email just fine yesterday morning and then NO MORE. grr. So if you are trying to tell me something during the day, my personal email is not the way to do it.
3. Stevie, my therapist was smirking at me today. I was informing him of how when he compliments me it freaks me out and my instinct is to flea. That I can see that he is saying something to me, but every part of my brain is going "ABORT! ABORT!" So we talked about that a bit. And then twenty minutes later he complimented me again. "I don't know if you're going to hear this, but I would like to tell you that I am very impressed blah blah blah blah blah." I think that if there were a video camera trained on me during these moments in therapy you could see me writhing in my chair and holding on to the arms so I don't run out of the office. I managed this morning to not only listen to his compliment, but also to agree with him and tell him why.
4. I was remembering an interaction that we had at dinner on Monday night. Jenya and I went to her parent's house and her cousin-and-cousin's-husband were there as well. The conversation turned to comedy and her-cousin's-husband asked me if I ever used props on stage. He and I started joking about how my only props are a sledgehammer and a watermelon. Jenya's mother was so disgusted that I was doing this "NO ALANA! that's a HORRIBLE idea!" she said. We told her that this was a joke, based on the "work" of Gallagher, whom she claimed to not know of. "Well, he smashes watermelons and other things onstage, you don't know him?" "Oh, no. That sounds horrible! I mean, unless you hand out ponchos beforehand!"
5. Sorry for the lame post. Bye.
posted by Alana 1/30/2003 11:17:58 AM
oh, and one more thing:
I'll tell you what REALLY bothers me. I mean REALLY. One of the people that I interact with at work is named "Darrin." And that is clearly spelled wrong. The proper spelling is "Darren" and every time I am forced to write or type his name I get angry. The spelling of his name is bad feng shui.
posted by Alana 1/30/2003 11:24:40 AM
I'll tell you what my big problem is: I lack follow-through. Oh, I've got the ideas, don't you worry, but if it requires "following up" or "timing" it will never get done. Also, if you ask me to do something, and it needs to be done either RIGHT NOW, or LATER, I will probably not do it. I won't do it RIGHT NOW because I am busy. And I won't do it LATER because it will slip my mind. Basically, if you ask me to do something and I don't say "oh yeah, I'll do that right now" and then if I don't immediately get up to do it--I'm not going to do it. Also, don't keep pestering me about whether I'm going to do it, but also, don't assume that I'm going to remember to do it. These are the things I know to be true. I also don't like doing things that involve dealing with someone else's need to follow through. Because I will never think to follow up with that person. So unless that person is done with their piece of it EXACTLY when I am ready for it, I will never remember to get back to them, and therefore I will never get around to doing what it is I was supposed to do. Also I won't do something if it involves finding parking. Also I won't do something if I am not already good at it.
posted by Alana 1/29/2003 11:08:22 AM
The first time I can remember figuring out that there were things that I didn't know I didn't know was in fifth grade. The teacher, Mr. Winslow, took us all to the computer lab for a typing lesson. We were paired up and sharing computers. My partner was typing and I was bored, which was a somewhat normal state of mind for me in school, so I was reading from our history textbook. I was reading something about Abraham Lincoln and the text contained an extended quote, which included a paragraph break. I was concerned, you see, because there was no end-quote at the end of the first paragraph, even though there was an opening quotation mark at the beginning of the next. How could there be an opening quotation mark if they hadn't closed the last quotation mark. It was an outrage.
I approached Mr. Winslow with textbook in hand. "Why is it that there isn't a closing quotation mark at the end of this paragraph?" I asked, knowing that the answer would be "Alana! You've uncovered an error! You've broken it WIDE OPEN!" But instead Mr. Winslow explained to me that the paragraph didn't need a closing quotation mark since the same quote was continuing in the next paragraph.
"Then why do they need another opening quotation mark?" I was trying to uncover the obvious flaws in my teacher's logic.
"It's like a convenience to the readier. A little reminder that you're still reading the same quote."
Oh.
posted by Alana 1/28/2003 02:58:39 PM
My glasses are nowhere to be found. I have looked all over my desk and I do not see my glasses. And now I can't remember if I've worn them at all today. I need one of those thingies that you use to hang your glasses around your neck so that you know where they are. In this case, I just found my glasses. They were folded up and placed next to my mousepad.
posted by Alana 1/27/2003 12:50:24 PM
Two times this week, on two separate occasions I have been "that person."
It started on Tuesday when I was writing in my journal while on the subway and I realized that I was singing out loud, to myself. It wasn't loud or anything, but I'm sure that the woman next to me could hear me. I tried to stop, but five minutes later I was singing again.
Then, this morning while I was walking to the subway I passed a guy who looked a little like Michael Delaney from The Swarm. So I started imagining how funny it would be to see all of The Swarm crossing Buena Vista on the bike path. And then I imagined saying to them "Hello, The Swarm, what brings you to Our Fair City?" And then I realized that I was talking out loud.
posted by Alana 1/24/2003 08:59:52 AM
I am almost mad at myself right now. I totally bent the reading deprivation rules and checked two websites and read their contents for the past ten minutes. This is a minor slip-up, I know. And it felt nice to do it, I know, but it also means that I totally broke my own stupid-ass trust for ten stupid minutes of stupid reading. Reading deprivation sucks and is lame and smells like poo.
posted by Alana 1/23/2003 05:58:12 PM
The only topic of conversation that exists today is the one about how f**king cold it is outside today. I have heard three references to how this must be what it's like in the mid-west. I've heard four separate conversations in which people try to one-up each other with their choice of adjective and how will it conveys their amazement with the cold weather. I was even unable to stop myself--when someone told me that the high today would be 18--from saying, "Eighteen! That's not a temperature! That's an age!"
posted by Alana 1/22/2003 02:14:37 PM
I was in a meeting yesterday with my entire department. So there were 200 of us sitting around being spoken to by the director, and everyone was nodding off. And I had the following thought:
"Man, I can't imagine speaking in front of a group this size. I'm glad I'll never have to do this."
It took me about ten minutes before I remembered that I am a stand-up comedian.
posted by Alana 1/22/2003 03:55:18 PM
