Others' Shame Is My Joy. What, you think you're better than me?

Well, you probably are.

Being home is sometimes hard. My friends are getting married, engaged, getting PhDs, and generally making something of their lives. I, on the other hand, have some good stories to tell, but that doesn't seem to mean a damn thing in NYC. I also manage to meet a cool-but-possibly-crazy dude, and in the wonderfully bizarro fuckery that is my life, he has left today for two weeks in AUSTRALIA.
Knowing my luck, he will come back with a fiancee. And she will be someone I know.

Anyhoo, this means that sometimes I go down a shame spiral. A slippery, dark spiral of shame that is lubricated with my mistakes--you know, like making out with married businessmen from Missouri on a Sunday evening. I mean, it's the Lord's day, for fuck's sake! I need to get it together!

But going down shame spirals isn't proactive. And what I did learn from my Oz time is how to cope with emotions in healthy ways,. Often, this involves watching Buffy DVDs or Arrested Development. Lately, it's involved the interwebs. In an effort to keep my head right, I'm making a list of things that I can turn to in times of crisis. I think these things could also be helpful to you, too, gentle readers. So here, I post....

Things That Make Me Feel Better About Myself
aka
Proof that I am Wretched and Spiteful

- The website Texts from Last Night. There are alot of people who do stupid, gross things--grosser and stupider than anything I'd ever do, sober or drunk.
Take, for instance, this gem: "(610): She was sucking his dick at Seacrets outside bar in front of all of us...her friends kept coming over crying and yelling "Tiffany stop it".
Poor Tiffany.....

There are others who took the words out of my very own texts:
"(479): okay I'm thinking he doens't have a facebook...I'm on page 28 of Hunters
(501): ok you need to stop NOW"

-F My Life. I think we've all seen this one, but it NEVER gets old.

- Why The Fuck Do You Have A Kid? Cause, quite frankly, most people should not be allowed to spawn. This site was brought to my attention as a result of this post.

- MTV's show 16 and Pregnant.
No matter what happens, I will always be able to say that I'm NOT 16 and pregnant.
Note: sometimes this show will make you want to cry and vomit, as well as donate all your books to the uneducated.

-This youtube of teens freaking out of the trailer for the latest Twilight movie. At least I know I'm not this obsessed with the idea of a vampire boyfriend--although, to be fair, this clip was sent to me with the subject line: "Is this us?," so I very well could be.


I think my favorite is the young boy questioning his sexuality who says, "Ohmygod, Jasper has new hair!" in a breathy moan.

Pseudo Celeb Sighting!!!

Okay, guys, I swear this is not "Vampire Month" on the blacktress blog, but I can't help but share today's news. Bear with me.

I had lunch in the West Village today with a friend who just finished his final exams for this semester of law school. It was cool to see him, and I was way less autistic than I've been in my recent reunions with friends. I think it's because he's a Will Truman-esque character that I feel safe with--and who I plan to have represent me in future legal troubles (copyrighting the term 'blacktress,' perhaps?).

We were dining on Mexican (one of the cuisines I was deprived of down under, and am now eating with the ferocity of a woman carrying sextuplets), and in walked two gentlemen. One was short, the other was average, with facial hair. They were backlit by the sun and difficult to see at first, but I instantly recognized those faces.

Actors Adam Busch and Danny Strong, who were regulars on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"-- one of my favorite television shows of all time.















Look at how cool they are! Adam with his spiked up hair and his intense gaze. Danny, looking sharp yet earnest with that tender smile. He's, like, 4'11 in real life, guys. And I totally don't care, he is the coolest.

Don't act like you're surprised. You know how I feel about vamps. And teen angst. And lesbian witches.

Needless to say, I was giddy as a school girl on a summer's day when I saw them. I could not stop leaning over to see what they were up to. I was trying to sharpen my bionic hearing, but couldn't catch exactly what they were ordering. Danny asked about onions and peppers, and I immediately made a mental note, just in case I ever invited him to a dinner party and needed to know his dislikes and/or allergies. The highlight was when Danny asked the girls sitting next to them how their guacamole was, and told them they inspired his order. They said it was good, and he actually got up and went to their table and tried their gauc!!!

I wanted to become those girls right away. Immediately. The jealousy was palpable.

I think what made it so intense for me was not only that they were on Buffy, but that on the show they played friends--and here they were in real life, just eating some Mexican, like.... TWO FRIENDS!!!

This simply proves what I've been saying for decades (television is reality), and what US Weekly has been saying for years (stars--they're just like US!)

I was too awkward and nervous to talk to them--who wants to be bothered while eating? So I just sorta smiled at Adam Busch as I walked out and he looked like, "um, why are you looking at me?" Which was all I really needed, actually.

I was tempted to ask them where Alyson Hannigan was, and if she needed a nanny for her offspring, but I figured it was best to quit before the authorities were called.


okay, I'm done sharing. Back to packing for tomorrow's journey to....the center of Caucasia.

Playing Footy

I went back to the doctor last night, seeing as my foot was still bleeding, which I knew couldn't be a good sign 4 days later. The doctor was different from the first one I'd seen. He was a Santa-like figure whose jolly beard and portly middle instantly put me at ease. Well, put me at ease until he told me my foot was INFECTED and the wound wasn't at all closed.

So, yeah, apparently there will be no walking in 2009. I'm supposed to really stay off of it if I want it to close up, especially cause it's in the most awkward place ever--right where the foot bends. This means that when I walk into my 2pm interview with a temp agency today, I'll have to find a clever way to explain why I'm dragging my foot much in the manner of Quasimodo. I may even suck it up and force myself to walk normally, since, you know, no one hires the disabled.

I'm way over the Swede, seeing as nothing good can come of stressing over someone who clearly doesn't appreciate the goodness that is the blacktress. Unfortunately, this means he'll have to be deleted from Facebook, because reminders of my transgression--and his rejection--aren't what I need when I'm trying to write witty wall posts consisting of inside jokes about things that happened hours earlier.

I think what I most need to shake off is feeling so lonely. I wish I had someone who could come over and hang out, just chat with me while I'm sitting around. Or I wish I was on the same time zone as my friends so that we could g-chat all day long and I'd maybe forget that I'm on the road to becoming a goddamn amputee. For some reason, since the incident, I've become addicted to the TV show "How I Met Your Mother," and it's the only highlight of my day. I think it's mostly because, after watching most of my Buffy DVDs, I need more Alyson Hannigan in my life and just try and pretend she's still a lesbian witch.

I just feel like I am spending my time in this city just wasting money on rent for a place that isn't so great and not doing much else. I feel like James Caan in Misery, and the city of Sydney is like Kathy Bates, torturing me into staying with her even though I must get out to see my daughter. I'm trying to save for trips, then I have to run to the medical centre every ten seconds and pay out of pocket cause, you know, "I'm not a citizen," or whatever the surly lady is trying to explain to me through my grumbling as I look for my credit card.

Okay, guys, this can't be my life. I've got to get it together in 2009. Maybe I should use this immobilization period to write a major novel, or a screenplay.

Or maybe I should just chat with every single person on OasisActive.com until I get one of them to wire me all the money in their bank account as part of a sham marriage (I'll say I'm a Nigerian prince, of course).

Why I Want a Vampire Boyfriend

OMG, guys. I just got back from seeing the 10:30am showing of Twilight, and I am one smitten kitten.

As you know, since seeing Daniel Radcliffe's penis (and incurring his wrath) my love for Harry Potter has waned. I need a new teen heartthrob to take his place--or at least fill the void until the 6th movie comes out. Cue Cedric Diggory, stage left.

I was totes swooning over Ced in the HP films, and I think a guy I dated back in the day sorta looked like him. In fact, it was with that guy that I first saw the preview for Twilight, and knew I'd have to be there opening day to see my two favorite things: pretty white people with problems, and vampires (arguably could be seen as the same thing).

Many of you may not know this about me, but I'm totes into vampire lore. The whole creature-of-the-night, no-need-for-earthly-desires vibe is really hot to me. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is my jam and my jump off, and I spend many a lonely Australian day/night/dusk watching episodes on my computer.

Oh wait, have I said too much?

Anyway, I went into Twilight quite excited, though unsure of what to expect. I haven't read the books--how I didn't know they existed is beyond me (I clearly need to start hanging out with more middle schoolers). All I had to go on was the trailer, which was all overcast and blue-tinged and sexylike--and filled with Diggory. The movie just came out in Sydney, and I'd been waiting for a free Tuesday so I could go. See, movies here normally cost $18, but on "tight-arse Tuesdays," they are a low-low $10.

I kid you not.

Anyway, despite my sore throat, I pulled myself out of bed, figuring I could always take a nap post-cinematic bliss. I arrived to find I was one of 4 people in the theater--all older women. Should I be worried? I thought as I pretended to check text messages as I waited for the film to start. 5 minutes before showtime a gaggle of giggling girls came in, thus cementing my own inappropriateness.

The movie began, and I instantly found the female lead to be dull and boring. However, this was overshadowed by the intense sex appeal that is Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen, all pasty and dark-eyed and tortured and repressed. From the moment he started dry heaving in biology class, brimming with desire for Bella, I knew this was going to be a good old time. Edward was so socially awkward, which I absolutely love in all men, and he wore the cutest cropped pea coat that I just loved on his slender frame. Overall, I wasn't pleased with what the film did with vampire lore (um, what is with the whole "in the sunshine I bling like Diddy's watch" nonsense?), and it reminded me of Buffy and True Blood and others I'd seen, but the repressed teen lust was through the roof. I kept just waiting for them to do it, and all the panting and almost-kissing was driving me nuts.

Well done, director, well done. I also admired some of the casting choices, including an attempt at multi-racial classmates and PETER FACINELLI (from 'Can't Hardly Wait') as the father of the vamp crew.

So, you know how I'm not interested in any members of the male gender, right? How I think they're all dumb and boring? Well, I found myself intensely turned on my Edward Cullen, which leads me to one conclusion only: I need a vampire boyfriend.

I mean, imagine how interesting he'd be. There's no way I could be bored, cause he'd have, like, a century worth of stories. He couldn't be dumb, cause he'd have seen it all. And yes, while a 100-year-old man probably has a lot of baggage, he also must be pretty damn mature.
I think this makes perfect sense. If you're still not buying it, here's a handy list.

Reasons A Vampire Is Better Than A Regular Boyfriend

- Super-human strength.
- The whole "I shun earthly desires and walk the night" is so hot.
- He has no problem feasting on the blood of humans-- a vegan Israeli investment banker couldn't do that.
- He will get his whole family to dismember anyone that comes after you. Um, instant street cred--hello?!
- Ability to scale great heights = best seats at every concert.
- He could kill you at any moment. Which, you know, just adds an element of spontaneity that most men lack in relationships.
- Just his desire to be with you shows that he's not afraid to follow his heart--or whatever he has in its place.
- His parents are probably dead, so I don't have to worry about his mother liking me.
- Will always be young and hot. Ka-ching!

Um, so obvi this is something I need to make happen. If you know any vampires, or any pale, sullen orphan boys who are faster than a speeding bullet, let me know.

The Vampire Slayer

So, I went on a "date" last night.

I have to use quotation marks because I'm not even sure what was going on. Do you ever find yourself in situations where you stop and ask yourself, "Am I on candid camera? Is this a bad Lifetime movie?"

I have these moments all the time, but since I relish awkward randomness (hence my love of internet dates), I do not run away from these gifts. In fact, I prefer to babble and just see exactly how tightly closed the envelope is, and how far I can push it.

For example: As I'm walking with my tall glass of milk, yoga studio-owning 38-year-old date, I casually say,

"I just don't know what to think, because of all my internet suitors, you're not obsessed with me. And I just don't get why not."

What a ridiculous thing to say. Cue laughter.

But no!!!! Apparently, this was a "crazy" thing to say-- which surprised me because he seemed to be able to handle Sojourner's truths thus far, was smoking weed on our date, and took me on a walk around the backwoods of Central Park after nightfall (where he showed me a flower garden which he described as "phallic"). If anything, I was playing the straight man. What I said was so un-humorous, that my "date" then says,

"Why do you need people to be obsessed with you? You feed on it, don't you? You have a vampiric quality."

Is this true? Am I a blood-sucking fiend out for the white male life force?

I don't think so-- I just want to get my O-face on (if you know what I mean, and I think you do...). And sometimes, my need to get my O-face on means I cut the bullshit. I want you to play your gender, woo me like the woman of your dreams, look me in the eyes and say,

"Girl, you're so beautiful, you could be a.... a waitress. No, no-- you're so beautiful, you could be an air hostess from the 1960s. No, that's not it, either. You're so beautiful, you could be a part-time model-- but you'd probably still have to keep your normal job."

Is that so wrong? So when I'm in your apartment watching tall, hot, crazy-eyed Jeff Goldblum in "The Fly," I start to get hot and bothered. And granted, I've called several friends to check on me to make sure I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere, but that's not cause I don't want to get my O-face on. It's because you haven't said the magic words. Part-time model, my friend.

I hope he calls me.