Sunday, February 22, 2009

rape town

there is a raper on the lose in my neighborhood, great. i will tell you a story. when i was seven years old my mom took me on a tour at the lion house at lincoln park zoo. one of the lady lions started going crazy and the tour guide explained to everyone that the lion had set her sights on me and was performing stalking behaviors. this is how i learned that something about the way i look makes me stand out among a crowd of people as the best one to kill. so i know that if they do not catch this guy he is eventually going to try raping me being that he is hanging around the train i take every day and what not THIS IS SO GREAT, so i decided i was not going to walk anywhere anymore, but then i remembered that i love walking everywhere, so that was a conundrum, don't worry, i solved it, i am now carrying a giant knife around in my purse. that is what the rapist is carrying, so now we are even, there, problem solved. i know that i am prepared because i made luke simulate an attack on me for practice. COME HELP ME PRACTICE HOW I AM GOING TO GUT THE RAPIST. it was luke's idea in the first place that i start carrying knives. being married is truly wonderful.
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Tuesday, February 17, 2009

thank you for making me read this horrible book mom, you must hate me.

i am reading this book called pearl right now, i do not want to read it but my mom gave it to me. my mom gives me lots of books i don't read, but this time she was really excited about it. 'avis wanted to borrow it but i told her NO, i have to give this to erin' she said. it's kind of weird that she still thinks like this because she is constantly trying to give me books she's finished and every time i am like NO, i would not read this EVER. i don't feel bad telling my mom that all the books she likes are shit because when i was like seven i was really into stephen king and she spent the entire year rolling her eyes and telling me i should be reading classic literature and not garbage. anyway now i have to read this book called pearl. when she gave it to me i asked her why it didn't have a seal on it. wait, this book didn't win ANY awards? then i turned it over and saw that it had a review from the christian science monitor. THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR? IS THAT SOME KIND OF A JOKE? anyway i am reading this book now and it is driving me insane. it is pretty much in third person omniscient or whatever, except sometimes the narrator talks to you and says shit like 'what do you think? i think blah blah blah.' it makes me feel like my kindergarten teacher is reading out loud to me. is there such a thing as first person omnisceint? i'm not sure, this book might defy categorization. anyway the most annoying part today was that this girl is in the hospital and she is talking/thinking whatever about her catheter and saying she has a tube stuck in her vagina. um, i thought the catheter goes in your urethra. i guess the urethra is kind of in your vagina? still. aslo the narrator uses the same phrases that the characters use. if you are not a good enough writer to give the characters different voices you should probably write in first person. anyway, the catheter in the vag part whas where i decided this book was one hundred percent annoying. it's about this stupid girl who wants to hunger strike herself to death in ireland for no reason. i hope she dies. i hope she dies so much i had to write it on my envelope/book mark. I HOPE SHE DIES. here, i'll transcribe the whole envelope for you.

I HOPE SHE DIES.

NO, I HOPE THEY ALL DIE.

I HOPE THE STUPID NARRATOR DIES AND THE REST OF THE BOOK CAN BE IN THIRD PERSON.

HOW DOES THE NARRATOR KNOW SO MUCH? IS THE NARRATOR GOD? BARF.

this is the kind of thing i do on the train, write down conversations with myself on envelopes.
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Wednesday, February 04, 2009

my family started cleaning out my uncle's house the other day. because he killed himself like ten months ago, and that is how my family does things, waits around for three hundred and forty days wondering if maybe it will do itself by magic. and this house was not just my uncle's house, this house was also my grandmother's house, so basically a house inhabited by two generations of people who never threw anything away ever. this is where i differ from everybody else in my family, because i will throw anything away. shit, i've probably thrown away money before. the other way i differ from everyone in my family is that i am somewhat capable of planning. which means if i do not go to the house nothing is going to get done because all my dad is going to do is wander around all the rooms looking at shit for two hours and then go home. when we went there the other day i was like IN THE KITCHEN NOW WE ARE GOING TO DO THE KITCHEN and then i attempted to throw away everything in the kitchen. except apparently my dad is into the earth because he set up a recycling box and took everything i threw in the garbage and tried to recycle it. you guys, my dad tried to recycle a waffle iron. this is how it went:
"dad, you can not recycle A WAFFLE IRON"
"sure you can, it's metal. scrap metal!"
"THAT IS NOT HOW YOU DO SCRAP METAL, YOU THROW SCRAP METAL IN THE STREET AND THEN SANFORD AND SON COME PICK IT UP IN THEIR TRUCK, THAT IS HOW YOU DO SCRAP METAL."

my dad also thinks you can recycle CLOTH. i tried to call my mom on the phone to tell on my dad for being stupid. "I'M CALLING MOM" i said. it took me twenty minutes to call her on the rotary dial phone. my mom's phone number is like all eights. if you tried to call 9-1-1 on a rotary dial phone you would probably be raped twice before you got the dispatcher. my mom wasn't even home but during the time i was trying to call her my dad found a jar of sand in the pantry and would not let me throw it away. "but it says miami on the bottom of it!" this is why i told everyone to throw everything away and not look at shit. when you start looking at shit is when you end up with a stupid jar of sand from miami because you think it is so precious that your grandmother brought home a giant jar of sand and labelled it. what the fuck was my grandma even doing in miami??? my dad also saved two giant mason jars of matchbooks. i love how doing things with my family makes me act like i am fucking sixteen years old, and a bitch. my dad asked me if i wanted the pots and pans and i'm like "FOR WHAT," in the snottiest voice ever, "remember how i got married and people gave me pots and pans from france that cost $300 each, NO I DO NOT WANT THESE STUPID POTS AND PANS." if anybody else asked me if i wanted some pots and pans i would probably be like "oh no, i have so many new pots and pans, but thanks for thinking of me!" but my dad asks me this and i act like he asked me if i wanted chlamydia. my dad also tried to save everything for the estate sale. i don't even know what an estate sale is, but i do know that the estate sale lady is not going to want to sell a turkey baster from 1922. "if anybody wanted a turkey baster they would go to target and buy it for one dollar." this is what i told my dad but he thinks there is some kind of market for antique turkey basters i guess. that's what he said. "it's an antique!" i can't wait to see my dad on antiques road show with a turkey baster and a jar of vintage sand.

basically i threw everything away and my dad took everything out of the garbage and i waited until he wasn't looking and threw it all back in there. too bad someone wasn't there filming us because if you watched it high speed it would probaly look like fucking benny hill. something we all agreed we could throw away was a box of GOLD FILLINGS. i opened this box and dropped it on the floor. "WHAT IS THIS???" it was what i thought it was, hundreds of gold fillings. was my grandma a nazi? when my dad agreed to let me throw it away i was stunned into not pressing that issue, which is probably why he did it, he probably dug it out of the garbage when i wasn't looking. i am going to have to tell my mom to be on the lookout for nazi contraband around their house.

i guess i am going to move into this house eventually because it is mine now, my mom is all worried it is going to haunt me. something else stupid that my mom thinks is that my uncle was maybe murdered. i think my whole family thinks this for some reason, they even hired a private investigator. maybe my uncle's ghost will haunt me into solving the crime, then i can star on forensic files.
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