Air Show Disaster

2006-02-24T23:56:00.000-05:00

I'm only really content with my double life.

2006-02-10T01:19:00.000-05:00

Existential crisis.

I have come clean - to mixed results.

"You're a huge fucking liar in my eyes", she says, "but I still want to meet you."

She still wants to hear my voice, wants to know the real me, is still in love with the persona I handmade for her.

Reading List 2005

2006-02-01T19:37:00.000-05:00

What I read this past year in chronological order. Thirty books in twelve months isn't half bad.

January
Dave Eggers - A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Max Barry - Syrup

February
Will Christopher Baer - Penny Dreadful

March
Dave Eggers - You Shall Know Our Velocity!
Douglas Coupland - Girlfriend In A Coma
Susanna Kaysen - Girl, Interrupted
Vladimir Nabokov - Lolita

April
Paul Feig - Kick Me: Adventures In Adolescence
David Sedaris - Barrel Fever
David Sedaris - Naked

May
Sarah Vowell - Assassination Vacation
John Irving - The World According To Garp

June
Chuck Palahniuk - Haunted
David Sedaris - Me Talk Pretty One Day
David Sedaris - Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim

July
David Sedaris - Children Playing Before A Statue Of Hercules
Sarah Vowell - The Partly Cloudy Patriot
Max Barry - Jennifer Government
Hunter S Thompson - Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Nick Hornby - A Long Way Down

August
Amy Hempel - Reasons To Live
Augusten Burroughs - Magical Thinking
Augusten Burroughs - Dry
Augusten Burroughs - Running With Scissors

October
McSweeney's - Created In Darkness By Troubled Americans
David Rakoff – Don’t Get Too Comfortable

November
Mark Leyner – Why Do Men Have Nipples?
Susanna Kaysen – The Camera My Mother Gave Me

December
Frank Warren – PostSecret
David Sedaris – Holidays on Ice

Two in the Swear Jar

2006-02-01T18:39:00.000-05:00

I'm taking a brief hiatus from my other Internet blog. Through my writing over on that other website I feel like I have to appease others, entertain them. This usually occurs in the form of a forced, humorous (borderline embarrassing) personal anecdote. I have a relatively large "fanbase" of "loyal followers" whose sheer presence intimidates me. I feel that with every one person who stops reading, I fail as a writer. The pressure is mounting. This is currently my only escape to continue writing and not fear the judgement/repercussions of my style, language or general message. Additionally, I do have a serious, albeit twisted side of my personality that I like to expose sometimes, to the right people. Within the coming months I will be purchasing my own domain and starting up my own e-zine/webblog , but in the mean time, plenty of anonymous ramblings courtesy of Blogger.

Over the years, my sexuality has become staggeringly apparent to me: I'm definitely not straight as an arrow, yet I hate most women. Admitting this feels wrong in a way. I am in favour of equality rights. I'm a firm believer that women deserve equal treatment, as do gays and lesbians, however, I still have a strong distaste in my mouth for the female gender. Is it possible to be a lesbian misogynist? I'm coming to realize my entire being is one big oxymoron.

I have pursued a lot of women in my day, and am currently in my first committed relationship with one. As aesthetically pleasing as a woman's taut waist, thin arms and full lips are, speaking generally, they are one of the weakest creatures.

I have spent the last four years of my life "researching" this thesis in a very unconventional way, pretending to be someone I'm not, over the Internet.

I pose as my alter ego, an intellectual, handsome and above all, devastatingly charming man. I lure these women in. Twist them around my fingers, leaving every nerve raw. Repeatedly, they fall for my web of lies and deceit. Women are in love with the promise of love and they will do anything to maintain their superior, a man, in their life.

I'm not going to lie, I am an immoral, sadistic asshole. I have manipulated various women into: doing my homework for me, giving me money, downloading programs on my behalf, sending me a collection of nude photos/X-rated videos, the list is endless.

Not only have I partook in this cruel behaviour, I have derived copious amounts of pleasure from it. There is just something about having the upper hand with a woman, being her supreme being that drives me nuts, into an obscene egomaniac.

Maybe this is why I am a lesbian. You cannot control men with the same definitive choke hold like you can with a broad.

2005-05-18T19:03:00.000-04:00

I kind of neglected this.

Got you where I want you.

2004-11-04T22:48:00.000-05:00

I have to read Oscar Wilde's The Picture Of Dorian Gray. Great. Books from the 1800s are timeless. I'd ask you about it, but your response would be: "oh hey, that's Jonathan's second favorite book. He's read it about forty times. He says it's not that dry after the first couple times through." I'd like to grind his teeth up into fine powder. If he's really that brilliant why are you on financial aid and why do you continue to mooch off your parents? Why did you settle for a life of one bedroom apartments, coffee shops and temporary positions at clothing stores? I always believed in you, when no one else did and look where that got me. If I got you alone in a room for five minutes I don't know what I'd do to you. I try not to think about you but you are like the plague, you always resurface.

I can't believe you're actually getting married. Girls like you don't get married. You turn into reclusive spinsters with one hundred cats. You're not the mom type. God, you'd make a horrible mother, but I'd still jump at the chance to see that. I can't even make it to your wedding. It's not physically possible. But, next summer I'll be 18. If I get a job between now and then and save virtually every penny I earn, and my parents allow me, I could fly down there. Of course, I wouldn't actually be able to meet you, but don't under estimate my capabilities, especially when you evoke such strong emotions in me. I know where you live. I know where your parents live. I know where you went to school. I know where you used to work. Imagine if I walked into that nameless clothing store and found you bored and sulking behind the counter. What if we met by chance? I'd probably start crying right then and there. I could whisper it in your ear, or slip you a note... "It's me. Slap, slap." and then walk out of your life, for good.

Blogger is the new Livejournal.

2004-10-17T18:03:00.000-04:00

I have successfully created distance between myself and everyone I know in reality, by means of deleting them from my MSN contact list. Now I never have to look at their names or think of them again.

The friendship hierarchy now goes like this:

Close friends - don't like you anymore.

Friends who live close enough to be friends, but too far away to hang out - can sometimes tolerate you.

Online friends and penpals - love you and wish you lived in [insert location here].

I'm now going to The Pixies concert on November 24th by myself. What a kick in the pants. I have a feeling it may be more enjoyable on my own, however, since EVERYONE I KNOW HATES ME.

You can lock all your doors. I won't stop throwing rocks through your windows.

2004-10-17T15:01:00.000-04:00

Over the years I have fallen into the world of Internet personal ad dating. Nothing much has ever come from these feeble attempts at a love life, but it has been interesting to say the least.
The first person to ever find my mind attractive was a lowly 38 year old native Toronto man, Josh. He had an art studio in his house and his own film company, or so he says. He believed in Tibetan philosophy. He did seem ~~too good to be true though~~, er, shady. What kind of 38 year old would want to associate with a then 15 year old? A lonely, perverted one. That's who. He loved my flair for writing and encouraged me to continue honing my craft. Flattery got him nowhere with me though. Even if he was a legitimate person, I was skeptical and did not go out for coffee with him every time he asked me to. That is something I kinda sorta regret now.
I believe it was the following summer when I first found Heidi. It was summer, everyone was away on vacations at their cottages, and I was bored and alone. I did what any other loser would do - scoured the Internet for a potential friendship. What I found was Heidi. An electic, kitchy, 23 year old who shopped at Goodwill more frequently than I did. After our first conversation she invited me over to a house party she was throwing. Once again, I did not go. But I did stake out her house. She only lived five minutes away from me, which was a tad creepy, but made for some good times. We never formally met, but I have seen her on many occasions at Shoppers World or Incest Mall as I like to call it. A few times I even called out her name in the electronics section of Zellers and quickly hid, in order to see her confused facial expression. Believe it or not, we still communicate. Well, by "communicate" I mean she messages me once a month to ask if I have a fake I.D. yet. When I say no, we go for another month without speaking. What a friendship.
After the whole Heidi extravaganza, (which I highly condensed for your reading pleasure and my wrists which are bound to get Carpal Tunnel) I laid low on the personal ad sites. It was just too lame. Reading all the ads of people who were more desperate than me was just downright depressing.
I decided to give it another shot when my friend/secret crush found her now FIANCE on the Yahoo personals. I was dumbfounded and enraged. I had been dumped by her for some 26 year old with no job, living in a rundown one bedroom apartment just oozing with lead poisoning from old paint chips. I lost out to that.
I got over it though, and found Rich. We had a lot of common interests. Namely, Chuck Palahniuk's books. He started writing me letters and poetry and mailed me some potpourri and candles. It was sweet at the time. I guess. I've never really been a romantic sap, so getting some flowers doesn't make me gush and glow the way other girls do. Typically, Rich found someone else closer to home. I hadn't invested any attatchment on my part, so it didn't even sting the surface of my being.
A few months later, entered Jaycanna. The name of a stripper and the mouth of a sailor. She lives in Pittsburgh and I actually engaged in some late night phone calls with her. It cost me $50 in long distance charges, but it was worth it. It also cost me a lot in postage to maintain this friendship, but like I said, worth it.
It seems that these people always slip from my grasp the moment they see more than one picture of me. It's not that I'm ugly per say, I'm just not as attractive as millions of other people out there. How can I compete? I can't. That's why I lost Jaycanna, too. To a guy named Todd. I lost a lesbian to a walking penis. I think only I could manage such a thing.
And that brings us full circle back to me. I still have no one in my life. No love interests and very few friends. School, writing and sleeping has been occupying all of my time. I actually applied for a job at Chapters not because I need the money, but becasue I have nothing better to do. I need a life. I wonder where I can buy one.

Oh no not again!

2004-09-12T16:27:00.000-04:00

I've now latched on to Blogger of all things. Another Internet addiction I don't need. At least this will have some sort of anonymity, in the beginning anyway. People I know in "reality" seem to always stumble upon my online writings and know my most intimate secrets and it gets kind of mortifying after a while.

Friday was my first day at a new school. The student body consists of about 150, the vast majority are 19 and 20 year old former dropouts. I can tell I am going to fit right in amongst the slackers. I have already told my embarrassing JT LeRoy rejection story for my English class. My life is a series of humbling moments.