thanksgiving was fucking great. i was initially bummed because i thought nobody was coming, but then amanda said she would come & i realized that she is all i need at thanksgiving, because she’s really inspirational & important to me. & then etta revealed that she wanted to come too and the three of us made this perfect thanksgiving trifecta and it was just great. really magical in this way i can hardly describe.
& then i went to ali & colleen’s afterwards and that was fun too. i read everyone an amazing text that my sister sent me: “”i didn’t know what this song on my itunes was so i named it the dirty song by the pottymouths”-mom re: sublime’s what i got”. all the americans laughed heartily at that one but there were two rad israeli fags who didn’t catch the reference. so we all tried to sing that song for them & it was really funny listening to dignified gay people singing sublime for some very confused israeli dudes. but maybe you had to be there.
also there was a hideous hot-pink sparks-esque beverage being passed around. i drank some out of a crystal teacup because it was too hilarious not to. and now i am feeling it. blah! i could hardly sleep at all last night & today i feel really sick.
anyway, i read everyone some poems by the amazing lesbian native american poet chrystos that ali had picked out and i don’t know, it was a really fucking good thanksgiving. oh, and amanda & i saw a rainbow walking home from the mert through the graveyard. and i met a guy at the bus stop who told me all these stories about how he failed mechanic school: “i was always fallin’ asleep. the guy would be talkin’ about the crescent wrench for a whole hour! who could sit through that?”
1. immediately upon arrival had to clean up some goopy diarrhea-esque dog shit from the front step
2. it smelled awful even after i cleaned it (FUCK YOU DOGS OF LAWRENCEVILLE AND YOUR STUPID NEGLECTFUL OWNERS!!!!!!!!!!) so i dumped some baking soda on it
3. my boss’ driver, a mild-mannered middle-aged xtian lady, saw the baking soda and said, “geez! it looks like somebody spilled a bag of cocaine on your front step!”
4. while i was at lunch with nate we spotted a tough guy wearing a sleeveless neon green shirt. i said, “whoa, look at that guy!” and he totally heard me! we had a good laugh over that but i felt bad too.
5. a client, a very charming old-ish lady who’s really being put through the wringer, came to my desk and said, “can you type a letter for me?” i said sure. she said, “dear creditors: [her name] is tired of dealing with you. she has a cough, nausea, and upset stomach. please don’t bother her anymore.” she asked me to read it back and said, “better put in diarrhea, too.” then, with a flourish, she lit up a cigarette and i had to ask her politely not to smoke in the office.
6. she came back from her smoke break clutching a gigantic (like 3′ tall) teddy bear (guess where that came from). upon her request, i put it in an empty seat in the conference room, much to everyone’s delight.
7. a certain crazy store-owner whose name i will not mention was yelling, to no one in particular, “do you like baby dolls? do you like baby dolls?” i’m pretty sure she was talking to someone walking by, but the early-20’s law clerk dude answered, in the most scared and uncertain voice ever, “yes?”
so, it was a slow week at work, as my boss was at trial. luckily, one of my friends just started working here so we had lots of fun just goofing off on the clock. we came up with the idea to google “bad tattoos” and giggle at the skin carnage all over the internet.
here are the best tattoos i’ve come across in those long, lonely hours; and i humbly share them with you, dear readers.
and, the most bizarrely genius one of them all:
i want to be this person’s friend. and eat a tofu pup with them. the end.
this weekend was so weird and quiet and strange. spent it boyfriendless for the first time in a long time (his mom was visiting) & it was nice to have some time all to myself to explore and exist and be.
saturday was the garlickiest garlic bread ever, friends new and old, laughing until i squeaked, making a wallet (or beginning one, anyway), staying up late and falling asleep happy & content by myself in my tiny blue-green room.
on sunday i went to book ‘em before normal hours so i could get some work done for a few hours. on the ride home i decided to cut through the allegheny cemetery (blatantly ignoring the “NO BIKES” sign. yup, call the badass office and tell them to issue me a license…) (I’M BEING SARCASTIC) and it was fucking so incredibly gorgeous i thought i was gonna fall right off my bike. that place in autumn is FUCKING BEAUTIFUL! the most beautiful place in pittsburgh!
i disturbed a flock of ravens, by accident, with my pedaling & they all took off & i was surrounded by hundreds of birds in flight. it was fucking magic.
and then i made s’mores on my stovetop and then went to the laundromat. i sat on the stoop of a pizza place while my clothes were in the drier, sewing my wallet and enjoying the sun on my face. the pizza place was closed (or so i thought), making it a prime place to sit in the sun like a wayward senior citizen (or so i thought!)
but, a guy needed to get in, so i jumped up, kinda startled. when i put my left foot down, i was like “ow” and went to investigate. i saw a huge sewing needle sticking out of my shoe, so i pulled it out. i put my left foot down again and it still hurt. upon closer inspection, i’d stepped on TWO needles at once, one of which had snapped and was impaled in my shoe & was impossible to pull out with my bare hands.
so, i called pino 911 and she came with a bag full of pliers and saved the day. god, i love that woman. we took a walk and talked about life. we were hugging goodbye a few hours later & talking about making dinner. a guy wearing a stars-and-stripes jogging suit was staring at us & pino jokingly said, “what, ya wanna come to dinner too?” he yelled, “i dunno, what’s good?” “everything i make is good!” “oh yeah, like what?” “like liver and onions!” “liver and onions, huh? how do ya make that?” and he wouldn’t leave until pino explained, in detail, how to make liver & onions. i lurked in the background cuz i didn’t want to leave her alone with this insane man. finally he was satisfied and walked down the street. as he passed me he made eye contact, looking at ME like i was the crazy one, and sneered, “you can go back to your girlfriend now,” !!! what a weirdo. i texted pino about it once i got home and she replied with something like, “that’s the last time i talk to a stranger wearing gym clothes.” ha!
p.s. OMG, like, seventeen magazine is hatin’ on FTMs. you should check it out. totally fucked up & minorly surprising, as both teen people and cosmogirl! had positive articles on trannies in the past few years. oh well. write them, or not, it probably won’t make a real difference but i guess it’s good to be aware of, or something…
of me, my sister & my mom this weekend. at the warhol, duh. i’m holding a sign that says “i suck” but you can’t see it. my mom’s glasses are tilted because i accidentally knocked them off in our mad dash to fit in the photobooth before the flash went off. 
this weekend was really fun & good. sometimes i forget that my mom is actually a very fun, interesting lady. it was sunny and we did all sorts of fun things and i felt loved and appreciated, which is rare when it comes to my family.
more later, with pictures, if i feel like it.
Filed under: wingnuts
example: the following things that people googled in order to come across this page. sorry if this is dull to any of yinz, i just think it’s so fascinating and strange!
1. girls breasts without clothes
2. auto mechanic memorial tattoo (i got 3 separate hits for this!!! is this really so popular???!?)
3. indecent birthday image
4. breast tattoo gallery
5. what i did at work today
6. “i am not femme”
7. games kill the boss derailleur (!??!!?!??!!!!!!!!!!!) (for those of you who don’t know, a derailleur is a part on a bike. it changes the gears)
8. “ironically, i still love”
9. i am a young male and my boss is such an asshole i can’t take it anymore
10. “begging you for change hair on”
to those of you who are bored: you should write me a hundred-word story about why anyone would google any one of these bizarre phrases. leave it in the comments. be outrageous. i love you.
so last month ray & i took a strange midwestern roadtrip & i am finally putting some pics on the interweb.
![DSCN0840[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08401.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0840[1]")
we found this hilarious bisexual porn at an I-70 porn shop (called, hilariously, “the lion’s den”) and i wanted to take pictures of us reading it everywhere, but it quickly got lost in the car & i forgot. so this is the only pic of me reading it, in a state park in ohio where we camped out.
![DSCN0849[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08491.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0849[1]")
this is ray in columbus, oh. sorry i didn’t rotate it.
![DSCN0850[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08501.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0850[1]")
this is also in columbus, oh, maybe a few minutes after taking the previous picture. so much kissing!
![DSCN0854[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08541.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0854[1]")
this is me in indianapolis, in, in relentless search of vegetarian food. it’s hard to find in indiana (a state that neither of us liked)
![DSCN0892[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08921.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0892[1]")
yo, did you know that the (AMAZING) community center in urbana, which hosts its local prison book program, which of course we visited because we’re giant dorks, has a freaking COSTUME ROOM?!!? omg! it is so much more fun packing books whilst wearing a bridal veil & sequinned wrap, and when your boyfriend looks like a big gay cowboy wearing sparkly clip-on earings. hurrah!
not pictured:
*wingnuts in indianapolis
*totally cute boy we became friends with at an ice cream shop in columbus
*amazing thrift scores at ohio thrift (the boardgame girl talk, a perfect skirt, a baseball hat for elmer’s glue, rubber stamps of all the bones in a skeleton, more…)
*delicious vegetarian food
*endless sweet people
*bumping into my old housemate caroline nappo, who i haven’t seen in 7 years
etc, etc, etc. i really want to travel more now. my itchy traveling foot needs some calomine.
IN UNRELATED NEWS:
*i’m at the lawrenceville library & it’s official, it’s closing next summer. : ( : ( : ( the guy at the desk told me so. he said, “but maybe we can do something about it. there ain’t no use crying over spilled milk–once it’s actually spilled, then we’ll cry” and it was oddly touching.
and,
*my mom is in a commercial! she’s the blonde woman wearing glasses, sniffing some tomatoes & looking mildly crazed. ha ha ha. i just talked about it with mumzy last night & apparently the commercial was directed by morgan spurlock of “super size me” fame. also, the woman at the very end of the commercial, looking skeptical, is the new principal of my old high school. who knew? certainly not me.
something funny happened while i was biking to work today. out of the corner of my eye i noticed two 30-something guys. one had climbed up the side of the beam holding up the porch, and the other one was helping him down. i glanced at them, was amused, and rolled on my way. as i passed them a little, i overheard the following convo:
ridiculous lawrenceville man #1 [scornfully & loudly]: man! you did all that and that biker lady didn’t even LOOK!
ridiculous lawrenceville man #2: how could you not look? that shit was so cool! what the hell?
this made me laugh and i continued on to work happy (until my tupperware malfunctioned and i spilled the delicious curried-zucchini-potatoes-and-chickpeas lunch i’d packed all over my bike & the sidewalk, in front of this annoying guy from the bank. BOO!!!
but speaking of bikes, OMG. i seriously had the worst bike shop experience of my whole life at iron city bikes this week! i normally don’t go there, but it’s really close to job #2. i heard a rumor that my bottom bracket was fucked up, so i dropped it off for an overhaul. it was bad enough that when i dropped it off, the obnoxious dude working the counter implied that i was stupid enough to ride around with my brakes totally disengaged (“uh, you do know that your back brakes aren’t even on, right?” “that’s because i had to take the wheels off to fit it in his car!” “uh, you do know that your front brakes aren’t even on…?” DUH. like i am just gonna bop around with NO FUCKING BRAKES. grrrrrrr).
but then when i went to pick it up, i found that the front derailleur had come loose in the fixin’ process and was pushing my chain into hateful first gear and not smooth, easy second gear. i was like “sigh” because i REALLY didn’t want to bring it back and deal with more dudeliness. but it worked when i brought it there, however imperfectly, and didn’t work anymore. so i gritted my teeth and went back in. i calmly explained what was wrong and asked if they could fix it. and the manager fucking yelled at me! he literally yelled, “i don’t know WHO agreed to fix this bike! there is so much shit wrong with this bike! it’s a safety hazard! i can’t believe you ride this thing!” etc etc. i seriously wanted to cry. i have issues with men yelling at me, but i said, in a firm unwavering voice. “look. this worked when i brought it in and it doesn’t work anymore. can we please just fix it so i can get home?” he knelt down to look at it and was making hyperventilating noises like he was about to start crying himself. IT WAS SO WEIRD.
but i guess the story ends happily, because they took off my offending derailleur (which hasn’t worked since 2002) and now my bike works so well! i zip around the city like a dream. now i understand why i was having so much trouble getting up the hill, why i was so exhausted after biking everywhere. it wasn’t my fault! it was the fault of a shitty bottom bracket that should have been replaced years ago, as well as the derailleur rubbing against my chain. and now that i’m free of both those things i feel so free.
but seriously, fuck a bunch of those bike assholes. i am so tired of being treated like an idiot every time i go to a bike shop. i’m not an idiot. i’ve been a commuter biker for 9 years now. i know how to fix a flat, adjust my brakes, etc. and what REALLY pisses me off is that EVERY TIME i go in to a bike shop with a dude, it’s always a dude who knows less about bikes than i do and rides less than i do, but they are ALWAYS treated with more respect. they are listened to, things are explained to them, they aren’t rudely cut off or yelled at or condescended to. it makes me so angry i could just scream. i wish i was handy enough to fix all my own shit and never have to give my money to someone who is such a blatant asshole to me ever again, but my hands are tied, as are the hands of any woman who drives a car or rides a bike. it’s fucked up.
dudes: if you’re in a bike shop with a lady (or someone who’s perceived as a lady) and you catch the mechanic treating them like an asshole, you can call them on it. really, you can. just a simple “hey, she knows what she’s talking about” can do wonders. i remember once, about 7 years ago, i was at home on long island and i was telling my dad about something that had gone wrong with my bike. he said, “oooooookay,” like i was being ridiculous, chuckled condescendingly, and gave my brother (who does not know a damn thing about bikes) a sidelong glance like i was being crazy. my brother snapped, “you should listen to ocean. she knows a lot about bikes,” and my dad’s face fell. it was an awesome moment of sibling solidarity. and you know what? my dad never questioned my ability to fix my bike again. that’s all it took. (and geez, it’s my dad! my dad is always saying that i’m smarter than him, but even he couldn’t be nice about this one fucking thing.)
so please. dudes and people who are perceived as dudes: bike shop solidarity. we need it. mechanics: yelling at people for not having a perfectly maintained bike does not accomplish anything. being condescending to women does not make yr dick bigger. and being a fucking asshole serves no one. the end.
warning! the following post is not amanda safe! it features graphic depictions of a certain lovable curmudgeon that you’d rather just imagine. if you are amanda, please redirect your energies to something that you wanna see, like this!
anyway. at work, we’re trying to authenticate a jackson pollock painting. the law clerk, m., made some comment about how anyone could make a splatter-y painting. “let’s see you do it,” said my boss. at first we thought he was kidding, but he went on and on about it (this was on wednesday). “next monday, [ocean] will bring in her camera and a drop cloth, and i’ll bring in some housepaints. m. will bring in a canvas, and he’ll paint us a pollock!”
so, monday came, M. and i brought in the requested items. we did a normal day’s work and then at about 4:15, my boss said, “[ocean], didn’t you bring any beer in today?” “uh, no.” “M. needs some beer! All artists need beer!” So M. went to the bar down the street to buy a 6-pack. then he changed into his painting clothes. i took a picture of him sitting at his computer to show his law-school classmates about how hard he’s working this summer:
while M. was setting up in the backyard, about one beer into this process, i noticed that he hadn’t closed the front door proplerly & it had blown open (everyone does that! grr!) and i complained to my boss briefly. “he’s already drunk,” sniffed my boss.
and then M. got set everything up in the backyard and everyone shuffled out to watch him paint.
“you should haul in a psychiatrist to analyze what M’s REALLY saying,” i said.
“i was a psychology major,” said my boss. he stared at the splatters for a long time. “he has an aversion to military service,” he concluded.
also, another attorney came by to pick up some paper and was barely able to conceal his disgust with all of us for being so unprofessional and wasting company time! ha!
everyone’s gone home and i’m still in the office. they all left over an hour ago. i was going to use the internet time after work today to search for a better-paying job, but i just can’t.
Filed under: destroy that tape loop, ne'er-do-wells, pittsburgh, wingnuts, work
…and any advice would be appreciated. it’s irrelevant whether you’re a friend or just a stranger who’s stumbled across this blog. i realize it’s not the kind of situation most people would have dealt with, but you never know.
so, for those of you who don’t know, i work at a small, eccentric law firm. i was out of the office buying candy for my boss (as he’s a do-whatever-the-hell-i-want senior citizen, he subsists largely on boxes of good & plenty). when i came back, the office felt strangely tense, and i heard my boss say to the law clerk, “ask [ocean] what she thinks! she’ll know what to do?”
so i went into the conference room and asked what was up. “tim _______ called. he’s thinking of committing suicide. i think it’s a great idea!” he said, casually. tim is this client of ours. with his twin brother, we’ve represented them in their father’s estate.
tim is in his late 30’s, mentally ill, physically ill, on disability, very few social skillz, no known friends, no known lovers, no hobbies. both of his parents, who cared for him his whole life, are dead. he has nobody except his twin brother, who he argues with endlessly. he hears voices. he thinks everyone is out to get him. he’s been institutionalized countless times, to no avail.
so, tim is coming in next week to chat about suicide with my boss, who seems to think the whole thing is rather amusing. he’s got a pretty caustic sense of humor, so i don’t know if he’s just saying that behind closed doors. (adding to the complicatedness of this situation, one of our other clients DID kill himself 2 weeks ago–the son of one of my boss’ close friends. i was the one who had to break the news to him.) i don’t know if he will be more sympathetic when this client is actually in the office. i sure hope so.
but somehow i feel like this is gonna fall on me, because i’m the only one in the office with a shred of fucking empathy. how do i convince this man not to kill himself? is that even a good idea, if he truly feels like he has nothing to live for? i have talked people out of killing themselves before, but they were people i loved deeply, who had other stuff going for them. i don’t love this man, although i do find him mildly amusing & endearing in a strange way. but seriously, seriously, what do i do?
