I was thinking about my little kitchen movie from the other day and how, after years of writing about myself on this blog, what is showing you a bunch of my stuff going to prove? Or does just the fact of me flaunting our blatant consumerism tell you more than you needed to know? It reminds me of how in college my friend Charley went off about how he hated The Big Chill, and much of his hatred centered on the way the film introduced you to the characters by showing you what they unpacked from their suitcases. I think the word Charley used was “cheap.” Or maybe “cheating”? It had a “ch” sound in it, and an “ea” or perhaps “ee” somewhere in there, too, a vowel sound that may be used to suggest the scraping of nails on a chalkboard.
Anyway, here’s a picture of some of Jackson’s stuff. Jack bought a lot of used Horror Heads on eBay from a guy in England and it took something like seven weeks for them to get here. Horror Heads are these toys that open up and have little torture chamber landscapes inside and a little, easily-lost figure called Mighty Max who has adventures within the Horror Heads, I guess. Jackson flipped when the box arrived. So maybe that tells you something about his character? That creepy, oozy decapitated things turn him on, perhaps? There’s a glimpse, until he starts his own Myspace page, wherein he can call me stupid all he wants.
I have this other thing to admit. You remember how aggrieved I felt the other day, saying boo-hoo what’s wrong with me, I don’t have any friends? Just don’t ever believe anything I say ever again, okay? Yesterday one of Jack’s contractor friends came up from Valencia to go on a long and heinous upward climbing bike ride with Jack, and he brought along his wife, who I’d only met once before, and his son, who’s Jackson’s age. And at first I was all, Oh, no! I am entertaining someone’s wife for three hours while the men are off sweating and being all masculine in their Spandex pants and the boys try to drown each other in the pool!
Guess what? You know already. She was awesome. We’re going over to their house next week and she’s going to put little flowers on my toenails. And then Jack, Jackson and I went to dinner with just about every person who means anything to me in this town, and I just sat there going, Hey, Moron, I believe these people are actually your friends, too! Aren’t they interesting? Aren’t they funny? Why, yes! They are! They’re pretty goddamn amazing people, and also, they read my blog. So, Hi! Hi, Alison, Hi Jennifer, Hi Linda! You guys fucking rock and I am an idiot who never makes phone calls and you guys need to take me out behind the shed and beat me with a two-by-four if I blog piteously to the world about being alienated and alone ever again.
The last thing is, I had a dream last night where I was making out with Daniel Desario in a tent, hoo baby. Let’s please not acknowledge the fact that I’m old enough to be his mom.
Every winter, my social group goes all no-mates. We get sick of the sight of each other by the end of the frantic pre-Christmas-Christmas-New Year season, and everyone hibernates for two months.
Maybe one or two of us will get in touch in about late February and confess that they don’t actually like anyone any more, except for the ones they’re talking to, and how going out and clubbing is so boring.
In April the sun comes out and someone has a birthday and invites everyone and we all drink too much rum and everyone and everything is funny, and we’re not quite the grinding rectal aches we all remember each other to be from before New Year, and we must do this more often.
Then it’s June and anyone not yet married gets married, and everyone turns out in big hats, and then it’s barbecues and birthdays and festivals and so on until autumn, and in autumn all our weekends are booked solid with grown-up dinners because we have to see each other before Christmas, and by Christmas we’re all sick of each other again.
I love my mates.
My best friend, with whom i can really talk, lives at least 1000 miles away. I miss her.
Horror heads? With TORTURE chambers inside. Wow. Sounds like a perfect boy toy.
Who needs friends when you have empathetic readers who can pull off descriptions like “grinding rectal aches”? Huzzah, Antonia! That’s going to keep me going for a while.
Oh wow, I have the vampire Horror Head! Now that’s a blast from the past… and I am way too young to be using that phrase.
I think the same night I dreamt about Erik Estrada. Maybe tonight I will pencil Daniel Desario’s name onto the pad of paper by my bedside and try to work him into the dream roster (does that ever work?)
Now that I have read Charley’s clever and ruthless tips on what not to read, I think my entire collection might be rubbish. I’ll report back.
I can’t wait to see the Whore Heads doing yoga!
And, breath of fresh air, new friends, yes? Congrats on being open to that. I will use some of your energy for it to make them in my new town.
Making new friends is hard. Maybe if we all carried around suitcases with stuff in them that represents us, and you could just open them up and show them to anyone you might be “interested” in and they could yea or nea, then we would all have more friends. Or maybe that would make us all even more lonely and alienated-feeling.
I do like the idea of a suitcase though. Then you could get past the early questioning and answering stage and go right to the bonding and giggling and wine drinking stage.
You’re splendid. I am afraid I have nothing particularly insightful to say except that I’ve been thinking about how splendid you are and how it’s the full range of emotion exposed, that you’re able to be sad and funny and giddy and honest and everything that makes you so consistently delightful.
Your friend Charley is pretty cutting. I like that in a critic.
Ah, Daniel Desario, we hardly knew ye. But I guess that was the point. Opaque like Jordan Catalano. I just have dreams about guys I barely remember from high school – maybe that’s kind of the same thing?
i don’t get the james franco thing. can a woman explain it to me? because to me he just looks like an oily, snooty ass of a person. which is fine by me, this is not me hating him. i just don’t see any charisma or where the attraction might be.
what’s the big green head supposed to be? zombie? dragon? kidney stone?
Very interesting blog.
Have a luncheon and invite all your friends that you don’t see enough over. Then you will all have such a fabulous time that you’ll start getting together every month which will turn into every week for lunch at the Indian buffet, and then you’ll start sending each other dirty emails of naked men, go away for weekends together, go to chick flicks your hubby won’t see, and do a triathlon, ….hey wait…. that is how I got tight with my little group of friends. Best thing I ever did.
PS Daniel=hottie. I’d dream him any day!
Hm, Matthew. I don’t know if you’ve heard this but girls like to fantasize about bad boys. And date the ones who aren’t really bad, but project that image.
Jack I think is an example of the latter.
Jack projects an image of exactly what he is. You have no idea.
Did the exact same thing … felt awful for my disconnectedness, and actually had the audacity to blog about it AFTER having a nice morning with a couple of perfectly nice, perfectly fine friends.
I still think it’s hard as hell to meet new friends, as an adult.
I guess I don’t have an idea. I feel like I know Jack from your stories. I was probably the one projecting. Cause I fell for a bad boy. He looks like he should be cutting school with Daniel Desario. But he loves his mama and works hard and treat me with respect. So I married him.
“treat me with respect….”
The lesson here is not to comment while drinking.
Mighty Max “heads” were awesome. Keeping track of Max, now there’s a fun job. You will find him in strange places. We had the snake one and at least one other but I don’t recall. My two sons are 17 and 19 now and fairly normal, very smart, and they do NOT torture things, so don’t worry. I don’t know what the torture thing is all about. Or freaky scary. But then again, Barbie and those horrid Bratz dolls are quite scary in their own way.
Matthew: The attraction to Daniel is the bad boy image & THOSE LIPS!!
Plus the cynical I-Don’t-Care attitude. Deep down, he’s a good kid tho. He just has a bad home life & thinks his life is goin’ nowhere.
And you ladies who have dreams about him who are “old enough to be his mom”? I’m exactly 20 yrs older than him so I’m in the same boat with you all! I have NO problem with it! Actually, James Franco is my ‘current obsession’ which makes me VERY happy!!
SWEET DREAMS!
- Dianna
(heyfranco.blogspot.com)