Tuesday, November 29, 2005 Plan to allow some extra time
Making false starts on blog posts is humiliating. Can't do anything anyhow. Today a dude fussed at me because I offered him a haircut card, and he NEVER takes them, and he has BEEN ASKED twelve times, and EACH TIME HE HAS SAID NO. How I didn't file that information deep within my heart to spare him the heartache of repeated polite "No thank you"'s, I'll never know. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. I am so glad I will never see you again.
Later I was looking for change for the bus and getting nervous, because I searched and searched and only came up with $1.55. Then I found a secret stash of quarters in a hidden pocket of my purse. I felt a pang in blowing them on bus fare, because those were supposed to be for pool. Also, they were covered in white powder, and I was confused until I remembered the time I accidentally knocked over a box of powdered laundry soap into my open purse a few months ago.
Life, you know, it takes a lot out of you.
Oh, more bus: I was waiting for a ghost bus that never came, to get me to work, and the bus that finally did come, half an hour after the ghost bus was due, was packed with people. People were standing in the aisle all the way up to the yellow line. I was standing up there, too, staring at the MTA's photocopied memorial to Rosa Parks, when we stopped just past North Ave., and a crowd of fifteen people stared up sadly at us. The driver started telling everyone to move to the back, and people started trudging and elbowing and stepping. Standing in the exact center of the bus were two dudes talking about how much they hated taking the bus this time of day.
I didn't think to step on their feet as I shoved to get past, because I just assumed there were more people behind them. Turtles all the way down. It was just them, though. Behind them there were places to stand and even free seats.
I was puzzled for the rest of the ride to work. I assure those of you with no firsthand experience that standing in the direct center of the bus holds no advantages whatsoever over standing anywhere else on the bus. You are still on the damn bus. Also, if they'd moved back like reasonable people, no one would have had to shove past them. If I had a time machine, I would frivolously abuse it in situations like these. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/29/2005 10:43:00 PM
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have a peasant day
Not that I've been outside or anything, but I hear wind, and I'm a little upset about that, because I think it's raining, too, and today is a bus day rather than a "get my ass driven around" day and I am OMG going 2 Die out there in all that weather. Also, I went to get change for the bus, and most of my change pile was stuck to most of the rest of my change pile. I didn't have the heart to perform the requisite tests to see how or why such a thing had happened. I accepted it as the Lord's judgement and moved on with my life.
It is good that I only have a few days left at the beauty parlor, because in my heart, I am growing uglier, and that is worse than damaged hair.
Random, pointless controversies still rage around the roller derby league. Someone started a fake myspace page to impersonate the roller girls while at the same time denouncing our recent bout of the bands as a rigged contest. The male ref fight goes on 'til my chest closes up.
Now it is time to stop just talking about the bus and take action. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/29/2005 02:09:00 PM
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Saturday, November 26, 2005 Out on the street, they call it derby
The internet tells me that roller derby is going to be featured on an upcoming episode of CSI:OMG. Maybe it was CSI:LOL. Or NY, you know. If you can find a blog that belabors a joke more than this one does, you read it!
I guess this is good news. We're going to blow up, just like the furries.
Little lame: the roller girls who are going to be on the show are NOT from the Gotham Girls. Instead they're using members of the LA Derby Dolls. I'm sure the Derby Dolls are a fine organization, but who will they be playing? Some fictional New York league? Themselves, trapped in a twister and dumped in New York on top of a witch? They should have flown the real Gotham Girls out there.
Meanwhile, the reality series about the Austin league is going to come out in January. It is from the producers of Laguna Beach. Sample diaologue: "I don't have a problem with authority. I just have a problem with people telling me what to do." Cut to another roller girl, "She HAS a PROBLEM with OTHER GIRLS' BOYFRIENDS."
Last night my own league, the Charm City Roller Girls had another event, a "Bout of the Bands" where bands performed roller derby themesongs they'd composed. "We wrote this this afternoon," one singer admitted. I ended up abstaining from the voting, because I don't care which shitty themesong they pick. One thing I did: signed posters. It was more yearbooky than cornered-starlettey, because the girls on the league bought most of them, but I know I signed at least one for a stranger.
I was wearing a purple satin sash with my derby name on it at the time, as were most of the roller girls. It was to differentiate us from the commoners.
Now, I've had my share of themesongs composed for me in the past, and I've worn satin, and I've signed my name and the names of others, but all together these things created something greater than the sum of its parts. The girl who was emceeing invited all the other girls up on stage with her, and it took us a long time to file off after she was done. We who were in the back stood kind of awkwardly, focusing on the steps, as the first band said, "How about another hand for the LOVELY LADIES of the Charm City Roller Girls." And some people standing on the floor went, "Woo."
The girls who put this whole league together seem to have a real handle on how to create celebrity (at least in certain circles) out of nothing, and I admire that. DIY celebrity. If we say we're big shots, we're big shots. If we say we're lovely, we are. Maybe real famous people feel like this too, like, Why the hell would you want me to sign anything? Why are you cheering just because that guy told you to? I'm just regular.
I stifle these thoughts daily. I learned it from Good Housekeeping. I do four sets of twenty stifles each morning, and by Christmas I will be a brand new me. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/26/2005 11:48:00 AM
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Thursday, November 24, 2005 Thank me, Timmy? Thank you!
This year I didn't go see my family on Thanksgiving, even though they wanted me to come down and to bring Tracy. My sister wasn't going, so I decided I didn't have to either, so my parents are shivering and alone, eating beans out of can tonight. It's really awful to be me.
Every year, they talk about how we aren't holiday people, and that an arbitrary day on the calendar doesn't mean anything, and how we are bigger than the whims of retailers. They act weirded out if I buy them Christmas presents. They vow that no member of our family will ever travel on a holiday or holiday weekend ever again.
Then they're like, "But, aren't you coming to celebrate this dumb made-up holiday that we don't care about anyway with us?"
One day we will meet on a completely neutral Tuesday in January or something, and we will have a pleasant lunch at a non-threatening restaurant. This is our rich cultural tradition. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/24/2005 10:19:00 PM
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Wednesday, November 23, 2005 I'll nail it to Skateland's door, I guess
Yahoo won't work on my household internet connection, and 90% of the announcements and business that my roller derby league are on a Yahoo group. It makes life hard. I miss the drama, I miss the important announcements, and on the rare days when I'm able to get on for a while, either it's a couple days past the beginning of a big deal thread and I can't find the original post, or I try to post something and I fail.
So: recent controversy among rollergirls in my town about male refs. Started as someone saying she though the all-male ref crew and the all-female derby league was a little iffy. Some people said good things. Some people said things I disagree with. A BUNCH of people used "having a vagina" or "what's between their legs" as synonyms for "female" or "what gender they are." People were like, "But the all-female derby atmosphere reminds me of Michfest <3 <3 <3". I'm like "cringe, cringe, groan."
I want to address this, too, but I don't want to distract people from my point that several of our established refs (like Tracy) worked so hard to become refs, and we shouldn't just up and exclude them from a roll we already said they could have.
Here is what Yahoo wouldn't let me post:
Hey, ladies. Got to this thread late in the game. I'd stay out of it, except it's so close to my heart.
People have made really good points. I think it's important that every woman on in the league feels safe and respected, and if a ref or anyone else says or does anything out of line, we call that person on it.
The thing that gets me is that, like many people have said, a lot of the male refs have been working their asses off and support the league 100%. Tracy, for example, has come to every open skate I've come to, since July, and that's most of them. He promotes us every chance he gets. (That was his article on Metromix, for example.) I don't want to alienate some of our staunchest supporters.
Skill and knowledge assessments make sense, particularly knowledge. If there are any females that want to be refs, that's awesome, too. I would be upset, though, if the refs we already had got pushed to the back of the line by new ref recruits, strictly because the new recruits were female. We're going to need a lot of people to make the bouts a good time, including refs, announcers, water carriers, and scorecard holders, mascots, etc. We should keep that in mind, too, when we recruit people. There's still a lot of room in derby.
When we do bouts, the roller girls are going to fucking dominate people's attention. Male personnel at other leagues' bouts really don't seem to dampen the atmosphere of sisterhood and ass-kicking. I think we're going to be fine if we have a few male refs. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/23/2005 08:38:00 PM
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If I don't want to sleep, I don't have to
Earlier today, I was just starting my shift, and one co-worker asked how I was doing. My co-receptionist said something very bitter about how I was ecstatic every minute because I was "counting down the days 'til I left that shitpit". I didn't know what to say. I don't count, really. Numbers. You know. Yawns to that.
Tonight was shopping night, where some housemates and I went to the super market and impulse-bought our months' groceries. It's great how many kinds of frosting we end up with. Also, I saw in a news publication that Mary-Kate's doing better, and thank God! I was a little worried.
I slept 'til Jesus-God today, because my shift didn't begin until mod-afternoon, and now I worry that I will try to sleep and fail. That's always embarrassing. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/23/2005 01:48:00 AM
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Monday, November 21, 2005 suspension show
Last night I went and saw the people who get hung from hooks. I only actually saw one person get hung up in the air, a nice lady who later revealed that she'd had to pee the entire time. I saw a man pull a girl on roller skates around with ropes attached to his back. There was supposed to be more, but after the end of the first set, I had to go sit down. It was the vapors! Maybe it was the giant amount of sage they burned, or maybe it was hot in the room, or maybe I'm not as blase´ about people getting hung from hooks as I pretend to be. Maybe it is seriously freaky. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/21/2005 01:30:00 AM
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Saturday, November 19, 2005 The city that bleeds (I am the first one who has ever thought of this joke)
Maybe I should post by banging my fists into the keyboard, and maybe I should pretend it was the cat. So tired. So hungry. But WHERE TO EAT? People die by taking too long to answer this question. Others cook in their homes. Dreary.
More all-stars and enemies came into work today. No real enemies, today, actually. The other day there was that adorable little child that I hate, but I can only get so mad at a seven-year-old, even if it does persist in skipping up to me and sing-songing "Aren't you ready yet?" after its parent has brought it late to its appointment and then herded it to the bathroom first, causing untold damage to the well-oiled machine of my workday. Then a few days before I gave my notice there was the guy who always fights with me about his appointment times. He'll arrive early or late, sometimes by days, and huff and roll his eyes if he can't be seen right away. My petty grudges from my petty job! I have a hunnert.
Later on there's this party that I said I'd go to, and I'm not really in the mood for it, you know? The theme of the party is people being hung voluntarily from meathooks and stuff. I hear around the way that a sub-theme of the party is "You originally thought this was the most terrible idea for a party ever, but you were wrong, because people hanging each other from improperly sterilized meathooks is actually the worst idea ever." One of Tracy's friends was llike "Autoclave?" and they were like, "What are we, nerds?" There wil be free beer. That's great. I don't drink enough beer. My pants, when I deign to wear them, still fit and everything.
Elsewhere in town, there's cranberry sauce wrestling. I hope they are not using whole-berry, because if you say you like whole-berry better than can-shaped, you are lying and putting on airs. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/19/2005 07:06:00 PM
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Friday, November 18, 2005 aggle aggle aggle
The rest of my life is going pretty well, so far. A couple of the regulars at the beauty parlor said they'd be sad to see me go. I keep getting these flashes of pre-nostalgia for weird little aspects of my workday. "Inexplicable bathroom grafitti [A sad banana in a life ring, out at sea]! Come back to me! Favorite bank teller: how do you smile so much? Oh, Columbia Beauty Supply deliveryman, I'll miss you most of all. " I was bored before closing today and so I looked through a week's worth of the appointment book and tried to tally how many names instantly conjured up a face and a series of anecdotes. It was in the thirties, but my tally system was off. I couldn't figure out how not to cheat, because, you know, it was last week's appointments, so coming up with faces wasn't that hard.
The rest of my life is going to take forever, though. I wish you could quit and give three minutes' notice. I don't know that a year or so as a receptionist needs this much of a special farewell retrospective. Maybe I should get snow leopards to drape around my neck as I spend the next couple weeks taking appointments and sweeping up hair. Maybe I should pretend to be sick, or that I forgot the location of my workplace. What are they going to do, fire me?
I can't stay mad at the beauty parlor, though. Today a man (who had once gotten kind of irate with me over an appointment boook fuck-up that was in no way my fault: I see and remember all) brought my boss a gift. It was a plastic donkey that was hollow inside. You pressed on the ears, and cigarettes rolled out of its butt. She showed it to me, and I found myself saying in all sincerity, "That is so sweet! That is perfect." posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/18/2005 08:58:00 PM
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Thursday, November 17, 2005 Let it never be said that I don't hang out
Last night's happy hour at Molly's was a lot of fun, although, as I predicted, cozy. It's strange being in a room with all these people where you know all about the infected sores and romantic triumphs they've had, but you've never been in their kitchens. Usually when I find out about an infected sore, the first thing I do is march right into the kitchen.
Yesterday was officially the first day of the rest of my life, because I put in notice at the beauty parlor. Then all day I suffered pangs of guilt and pre-emptively missed all my favorite weirdos in the daily parade of weirdos there. Soon I'll go and work somewhere else, and I have this idea that I will have a whole new kingdom of weirdos to fall in love with. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/17/2005 02:55:00 PM
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Wednesday, November 16, 2005 my humps. My humps.
My eye is nearly better, although the other day a new co-worker looked at me and asked, "Is that permanent?" I was tempted to tell her that it was. Let her think I got faith-healed as it gradually faded away. "Isn't it amazing?! The Lord works in mysterious ways, you tactless oaf." That was so mean on my part, to name-call like that. The lady didn't mean anything by it. It was just a segueway (Did you know that in Canada, they spell it "Yngwie?") into her story about "The time I was in physical pain, how that was treated, and the gruesome after-effects." It is a salon favorite, in all its various forms, by all its various tellers.
Maybe tomorrow in the daytime, I'll tell whoever is listening about the bump that remains where I hit my face on the skating rink floor a couple of weeks ago. It is nearly invisible, but I know it's there because I keep poking at it. Again, faith-healing. It is the same tactic I use if I have a sore tooth. It is really dumb.
After work, I will go to the Baltimore Blogger Happy Hour, because I'm in the habit and those things are fun. This month it is at Molly's, on 23rd St. it is cozy there, and it will be a lot of fun for new people who want to involuntarily cuddle with strangers. Seriously, it's going to be great. It's fun there. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/16/2005 12:00:00 AM
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Saturday, November 12, 2005 Finally, your chance to eat rocks
Lately I've been in no mood, and I'm so bored with that. Earlier, I was in no mood for kickball. Thursday I was in no mood to skate, and then broke my damn skate because I went and hit the wall because I was in no mood to collide with the person who cut me off. I am no mood to spend money on replacement parts. I don't know what the shit to do about this shit. Seriously. Maybe I'll try snapping out of it. Emergency pie? I will phone my physician tomorrow for a cake prescription.
My housemates got me a cake the other day. It was a surprise, and chocolate. They put candles on it and sang. I didn't suspect a thing until I walked in the house and everyone either ran out of the room or stood in odd places in the front hallway and engaged me in conversation. Then I just assumed there would be a cake. Glad I was right. It would have broken my heart, otherwise. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/12/2005 09:55:00 PM
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Wednesday, November 09, 2005 Jesus is the rock/ and he rolls my blues away
-This is a song they promoted at my summer camp when I was a child. We were made to sing.
-I believe there were motions.
-What if Jesus was The Rock?
-My eye is still gruesome, and the rest of that side of my face is also discolored.
-At work today, someone asked his stylist "Who popped your receptionist?"
-No one popped me. I swelled up from boredom and popped from the strain.
-Just kidding. I am never bored. I live in The City that Rules. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/09/2005 07:48:00 PM
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Tuesday, November 08, 2005 Oh when the saints
My housemates and I were just talking about what music to do for this year's household Christmas play, and now so many snatches of so many songs are stuck in my head. I was going to type more, but I need to shower, because I smell terrible. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/08/2005 12:08:00 AM
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Monday, November 07, 2005 Who could forget the bus?
It's been a while since I've been on the bus. I didn't even buy a November pass, since Tracy's been able to drive me many of the places I go, and unless one rides the bus every day, the passes aren't worth it. A lady came into the salon the other day with the strinking green MTA go-pass in an ID cover hanging around her neck. It was bold and daring, but not as goddamned bold and daring as the #3 driver I saw blow right by an elderly woman in a wheelchair the other day. She even had a friend there with her to flag it down. No good.
Did you know that I have nothing to write about? posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/07/2005 03:31:00 PM
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Friday, November 04, 2005 was disfigured like me. Dontcha.
Last night I was trying to do an ill-advised trick on my roller skates, and I fell on my face. The roller girl who is also an EMT diagnosed me as "gonna have a shiner", and she was right. My eye got more gruesome as the day went by. It was a lot of fun at the salon. I look like I was wearing artfully applied maroon eyeliner and then got punched in the face.
Reports from the scene indicate that when I fell, the large teenager with mental difficulties who sometimes skates around flashing the Vulcan "live long and prosper" symbol for a lap or two went "Oooh!" I must've fallen hard to get that kind of sympathy, because one time I heard the middle-aged guy who hangs around the rink offering smarmy advice to beginning skaters tried to turn that kid against me, and it totally worked. The middle-aged dude was pointing at me and telling the kid how dangerous I was. The kid mumbled something (as is his way), and his companion said, "No, no, you shouldn't hit her."
One day, internet, I will tell you more about this man, but I worry that he internet searches for roller derby every day, and if he reads this, his heart will break.
My pulpy old eye! I keep blinking and being like, "Ow!" and then blinking again. For a minute after I fell, that side of my face looked fantastic, because my cheekbone hit first, so swelled first, so made me appear chiseled. Now the eye part just looks gross and the face part makes it appear (for the umpteenth time in a few weeks) as if I have a five o'clock shadow.
I've been on pins and needles all day, because an entity I spoke to yesterday promised me a phone call today. It seemed far-fetched to me even then, but I was hopin'. I passed the time at work by pretending that the entity would call on my work phone, even though the entity doesn't even have that number. Still, I bet I sounded so excited and professional to everyone who called today. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/04/2005 08:14:00 PM
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Wednesday, November 02, 2005 Don't you wish your girlfriend wore pants like me
Tonight I went out shopping for grownup clothes, and if they work, they will be worth the price, but if they don't, I've just spent far more than I'm accustomed to in order to impress the cats. I got my eyebrows waxed, too, to impress whatever cats I'm going to have to impress tomorrow. I understand that this is not a workplace option for some people. Wild. I looked like I was wearing fuchsia eyeshadow all day.
In five years, I see myself in pants. My eyebrows will have gone to hell. Thanks for asking. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 11/02/2005 11:45:00 PM
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