confessions of a red-headed stepchild: September 2004

Thursday, September 30, 2004

clique-ity cliques

So I like to make fun of people that are predictable and boring and easily fit themselves into stereotypes.

I dislike cliques.

I am plagued with clique-a-phobia.

After a life time in Ashland I am burned out with hippies. Ayear in New Orleans and I dead tired of goths, and now after four years in Portland I am find nothing indie about hipsters.

My friend Maria hit the nail on the head today when she said:

"I forgot to tell you that I just now put my finger on what it is that I CANNOT STAND about hipsters.

They take themselves and their "interests" so seriously and they have that whole "misunderstood" complex that used to be exclusive to goths. Hipsters are the new goths."

Yes they are Maria. Yes they are.

good deed for the day

I just wrote a letter to the manager of a gas station I go to on my way to work in the mornings.

Thursday, September 30, 2004

To Whom It May Concern:

I drive past many gas stations everyday. Being in the petroleum industry you have probably given considerable thought to what makes someone go to one gas station over another. People are different and each person looks for specific things in a station.

I personally don’t look at prices, I figure they are all within ten cents of each other and don’t feel like I have time to care about pennies here and pennies there, although that is the main motivator for my significant other. He shops solely on price. One thing we all have in common is that we want to be treated with respect and it is extremely helpful if the gas attendant has a good attitude and tries to take some time out to let you know that his focus is on you, and your needs. I know that working as a gas attendant can’t be a very rewarding job, and that often times the pay is not comparable to the things you have to put up with, i.e. weather, assholes and the like.

You have one person on your staff that does an excellent job of drawing me back in as I need a fill up. This person is beaming with positive energy, and is seemingly happy to be pumping gas. That is amazing! When I pull in he, like my dog, acts like he is happy to see me. How is it that he is able to make me feel like he really wants to be servicing me?

I sure hope you think this gas attendant is as special as I do. Now here is the funny part: I don’t know his name. So I will tell you what he looks like and hopefully it will be enough information so you can pat the right person on the back.

This attendant works mornings, he is tall, slender and has brown short hair.

Sincerely,

Darcie

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

fuck tv

I love the Best of Craigslist and usually go there for laughs, but today I ran across this post that really hit home for me. American culture is so mind-nimbing. I try to talk to people about these same issues and no one seems to notice that they we are turning into drones.

Missed Connection With My Life

How did this happen? I'm not quite sure.

I'm a good guy, some even say a great guy. Fun to be with, interesting witty.

I'm not.

I'm scared sometimes.
I feel alone sometimes.
I feel like people really don't know me.

This is why...

[read more]

unfeeling president

This is a great essay.

"I fault this president for not knowing what death is. He does not suffer the death of our 21-year-olds who wanted to be what they could be. On the eve of D-Day in 1944 General Eisenhower prayed to God for the lives of the young soldiers he knew were going to die. He knew what death was. Even in a justifiable war, a war not of choice but of necessity, a war of survival, the cost was almost more than Eisenhower could bear.

But this president does not know what death is. He hasn't the mind for it. You see him joking with the press, peering under the table for the weapons of mass destruction he can't seem to find, you see him at rallies strutting up to the stage in shirt sleeves to the roar of the carefully screened crowd, smiling and waving, triumphal, a he-man."

Continue reading Unfeeling President at Maria's Blog.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

100 things about me

1. My parents were divorced when I was 4.
2. I have three sisters and one brother, all halves.
3. I don't know my brother very well.
4. My sisters locked me in small places and tickled me until it wasn't fun.
5. Now I am claustrophobic.
6. I spent a lot of time being grounded.
7. I have never really felt like I fit in, anywhere.
8. I like to make lists.
9. I play the violin when I feel like it.
10. Sometimes I wish I had learned to play the cello.
11. My dog thinks I am the greatest person alive.
12. I like to sleep with down comforters even in the summer.
13. I want to travel to every country before I die.
14. I am afraid of dying and think about it a lot.
15. My favorite colors are black and grey.
16. I am on a soccer team.
17. I own a Vespa.
18. I am afraid of flying, and snakes.
19. I can admit when I am wrong.
20. I used to live in New Orleans.
21. I love to eat.
22. People I love know it.
23. I am extremely independent.
24. I don't lie.
25. I like to take pictures.
26. I am very clean and organized.
27. I am an aunt eight times!
28. I love cheese.
29. I am unconventional.
30. In my reoccurring nightmare my teeth fall out.
31. I broke my leg twice when I was in elementary school.
32. I started smoking cigarettes when I was 13.
33. I don’t smoke anymore (except when I drink).
34. I feel like I can do anything I put my mind to.
35. I am a tom boy.
36. My family is extremely dysfunctional.
37. I have a leopard print couch.
38. I have green eyes.
39. I collect old scary dolls.
40. I always look at the clock at 4:44pm.
41. I like to do nice things for people.
42. People always assume I am a vegetarian.
43. I am seriously thinking about becoming one.
44. I don’t like working.
45. I prefer natural remedies, and strongly dislike Western medicine.
46. I jumped off a 65 foot high bridge into the Illinois River.
47. I have been skydiving.
48. I am afraid of heights.
49. I can’t stand mediocrity.
50. I wish I were more active in my community.
51. I love being outside and want to live in a yurt.
52. I frequently wish I were smarter.
53. And funnier.
54. I recycle.
55. I was mean to my little sister growing up and still feel guilty about it.
56. I have a purse collection.
57. I can’t eat a banana without thinking about oral sex.
58. I feel culturally starved being an American.
59. I am covered in freckles.
60. My mom always called them angel kisses.
61. I got away with 95% of the bad things I did when I was younger.
62. I worked in the computer industry for ten years.
63. I love Cabernet Sauvignon.
64. I like listening to Middle Eastern music.
65. I prefer to hang dry my clothes.
66. I like crossword puzzles.
67. I love orchids.
68. I eat a lot of garlic.
69. My greatest feature is my butt.
70. I like to sing karaoke.
71. I ran a marathon.
72. I wear glasses.
73. Some people can't handle my brutal honesty.
74. I love reading.
75. When I am sick I still want my Mom.
76. I am 1/16 Creek Indian.
77. I love gardening and making things beautiful.
78. I love NYC.
79. My favorite game is Backgammon.
80. I don’t like making decisions.
81. I am of above average intelligence.
82. I am a high school drop out.
83. I have a hard time talking about my feelings.
84. I like to laugh.
85. I love Tequila.
86. I drink coffee in the morning only.
87. I am a Libra.
88. I like my food spicy.
89. I have a hard time keeping my opinions to myself.
90. Motorcycles scare me.
91. I ride them in my dreams.
92. I used to own a pair of roller skates. Have you seen them?
93. I am scared of people in large groups (fraternities, sports fans, religion, you get the idea).
94. There are very few drugs I haven’t tried.
95. I like to hang out with people who are smarter than me.
96. I have never been married.
97. My grandfather was a nuclear physicist.
98. I am fidgety.
99. I am hard on myself.
100. I love knee socks.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

ashland you bitch! the innocent years

Looking back on all the crazy years I spent in Ashland, birth until 22, my brain hurts and my heart skips beats. This town is so much of who I am today, but much like any serious relationship it is questionable whether a friendship can evolve and be maintained once the intimacy is gone. I want to write about my time there and will probably break it up into a few parts so here goes part one. The Innocent Years.

Ashland is a beautiful town "nestled" between two mountain ranges, rivers, lakes and only a few hours from the Oregon coast. It is inhabited by a large group of very liberal, artsy people, yet it is surrounded on all sides by racists, right-wing, rednecks. Stepping outside of the boundaries of Ashland can be a scary and potentially dangerous experience. So I spent most of my time IN Ashland, oblivious to life in the real world.

My family lived in Ashland when I was born. So it was home to me from the beginning. My mom was on her second marriage with my dad and had two daughters before me, Moriah 6 years old and Annie 3 years old. My mom tells me that I was the easiest baby she ever had. She said I always laughed and smiled. She said I was so content that it really scared her, she thought something must be wrong. I think I was just saving my energy.

The early memories consist of my mom gardening and being a do-it-all wonder woman. She made homemade ice cream, root beer, and always provided for us the most clean and comfortable living enviornment a lower-middle class family could wish for. It wasn't until years later that I realized how hard she struggled to do this, most times alone.

As a young girl I got into a lot of trouble at school. I was in counseling a lot and felt as if people were always questioning the hows and whys of my actions. I felt like I was possessed at times, like I would hit someone and have no idea why I did it. My parents were divorced when I was four years old, my mother remarried and after being the baby for five long years a new baby came along. I think this really hurt me. I think I went to school and tried to get the attention I felt I was lacking at home.

My oldest sister Moriah, scared me. She listened to heavy metal and always wanted to change the channel to MTV while I wanted to watch cartoons. Her bedroom was slathered in magazine clippings of bands like Judas Priest, Metallica, Ozzy and the like. She started running away repeatedly, shaved her head (except for the bangs) and beat me up whenever she saw me. My mom spent evenings crying, either on the phone with police or in counseling while everyone would try to get Annie to talk about how Moriah's absence made her feel. She just sat there staring at the wall, sometimes a tear would slip out, but mostly she just ignored us all. Annie and I became very close during this time, but it was always at her discretion, and Moriah's absence was not brought up. We would play the games she wanted to play, watch her cartoons (she always got to be Jerry and I always had to be Tom, even if I called Jerry first), but I didn't mind because I thought that she was the most amazing person in the world. I thought she was so funny and smart and beautiful and I was just happy to be in her presence.

Summers were happy times, we slept outside, ate berries, went swimming, rode our bikes and life was probably as normal as it would ever get.

Maria's side of the story

Read a story about what growing up in Ashland, Oregon was really like here.

Monday, September 20, 2004

surprise!

I got back late last night from a surprise trip to New York City. I couldn't blog about my plans because I only have one reader and that was the person I was going to surprise. I am back now and totally jet lagged. Some highlights from my trip:

1. Seeing the look on Maria's face when she first saw us.

2. Dinner at Spice Market.

3. Feast of San Gennero in Little Italy. This is where we saw the worlds smallest woman and the snake lady.

4. Dancing at the Coral Room where we saw a mermaid.

5. Shopping at H & M.

6. Going to a filming of Comedy Central's Premium Blend.

I am glad to be back but do hope that I get a chance to live there some day. I feel like every time I go I don't get everything done and seen that needs doing and seeing. I want more time to absorb it all!

Thursday, September 09, 2004

what i am listening to

I have a constantly evolving taste in music and have the hardest time saying what my favorite band is...Although these are my favorite bands this month!

Sigur Ros
Neutral Milk Hotel
Sugarcubes
Blonde Redhead

You can listen to my radio station here.

whiskey tango

My family has been a source of constant amusement for most of my life. To give you a taste of what I deal with on a daily basis, here are a few highlights:

My oldest sister was just arrested for selling Meth out of her home. She has four children under the age of 15, lives in a school zone and adorns her bed with pillows that have been neatly embroidered with nazi symbols.

All of my sisters have the names of men tattooed on their bodies, none of whom they are still with.

None of my sisters talk to each other but they all talk to me.

I am the only sane one.

My mother is on her 5th marriage to a man who is nice, but has a shitload of his own problems. Inheriting my mother's load I think may be causing him to loose his mind.

I recently (20 minutes ago) received an email from my mom's email address. After reading through the thread I realize that it isn't my mom sitting at the computer. Her husband has opened her email, read a message from my Aunt (who doesn't like him) and responded to her from my mom's email account. Apparently he has forwarded it to me, for reasons I am not aware of yet.

I responded to him, at my mom's email address since it is a good way to get in touch with him, and asked him two questions.

1. Why are you checking other people's email?
2. Why did you forward this to me?

some are flawed

Litter-bugs

This also means people who do not pick up their dog poop. This weekend Tom and I saw the most amazing thing at the dog park: more than one asshole had actually bagged their poop and then threw it in the bushes. Why bother?

Mother Haters

Don't trash talk your mother. It is the most pathetic, despicable thing you can do after someone has sacrificed their life to give you one.

Bad Drivers

You know who you are! Like the guy on 205 yesterday in his Trans Am, revving the engine and "burning rubber" while we all sat there in traffic. I can't think of any reason why you deserve to get to where you are going first. Cool your jets!

People who do not respect animals

I have heard too many stories in the last month of people "getting rid" of animals, either killing them or taking them to the Humane Society. News Flash! Whose fault is it that you didn't get your animal fixed?

Know-it-alls

If you know everything, then you should know who you are and that people don't like you.