Monthly Archives: July 2013

41. James’ll Do Anything for a Laugh


I am an awful procrastinator. Maybe the worst.

So I failed a test this morning. I’m taking the test again next week. But what should I do so I don’t fail again? Study!

So I sat on a chair in the park for a while pretending to study. No one was fooled. I heard passerby’s whisper, “Hey, look at that weirdo fake-studying. Also, why is he wearing so many colors?” So I had to get out of there. I walked to the train. On the way to the train, I got behind the two slowest women in the whole world. They were walking so slow that one of them might as well have just been rolling the other down the sidewalk. They were also those people who just take up the whole sidewalk. Not because of their size, but because of the way they mosey down the way. So instead of doing anything about it (like walking around them) I decided to just walk behind them at the snail’s pace to see if I was missing anything. (Note: I wasn’t missing anything.)

I finally got to the train. I pretended to study for a little bit but this little baby knew I was faking it. She looked right through me. And she kept staring. So I stared back. That happened for like 25 minutes. Then I got arrested for looking at a baby with cannibal eyes.

Just kidding. But I was super hungry.

Then I started to walk to the library. But this man spilled his cart full of bottles. So I started helping him collect the bottles. Then my headphones fell and wrapped themselves around my ankle. So I started dragging that leg behind me. I think the man thought I was mocking him. So he knocked me unconscious with a plastic bottle and walked away. I woke up with my pants around my ankles and all of my credit cards in my mouth. At first, I was sad that I had been unconscious for the whole thing, and then I was enlightened because I think the man was trying to make a statement about capitalism when he shoved my two credits cards, my debit card and my countless gift cards in my mouth. So I stood up, put my shorts in my backpack and walked home with my natty jiblets glistening in the sun.

(Ok. The last part was true until the point where he did NOT hit me in the head with a bottle.)

So I walked to the library where I picked up a lot of CDs and prayed that the librarian wouldn’t ask me to pay my fine. She didn’t, but I was nervous there were coins in my pocket so I decided to walk out of the library without bending my knees. I looked like a penguin. Or Charlie Chaplin. (Who really came first? It’s like the chicken and the egg, really.)

Then I went to the post office. There was just one attendant and this man at the window was taking the longest time. I got so hungry that I started to eat scratch paper from my backpack. A long line started to form behind me. One of the people behind me suddenly exclaimed, “There’s only one person working!”… Eureka! That must be it! I finally got to buy stamps, and then I went home.

Then I talked to my friend Sasha on the phone for a long time while I ate too much dairy and started to feel ill.

Then I spent about an hour to two hours creating a video of me acting a god damn fool. Here’s a link to it:

So after I swiveled my head around so violently, I really didn’t feel well. So I drank the rest of my water and I took of my shoes. Then I got a whiff of my feet and I felt even worse! So I tried to pretend to study some more. I was using my phone to study but then I saw that my battery was dying and I realized I had a killer headache. I’m secretly convinced that when my phone is dying, it starts to give me brain cancer. The logical solution to this illogical problem would be to plug in my phone. Instead, I decide to just not look at it. Yeah… That’ll work!

So now I can’t study anymore. Darn it. So I decide to run my hands through my hair for a little bit. I became alarmed by how much hair was falling out. I held a funeral for the collected lost hair from my head. Then I started thinking about what color wigs I should wear when I go bald.

Then I decided to write a blog. And here’s the reason why:

While most of this blog was SUPER funny, I was actually mad frustrated today. Bitchlets be walking slow on the sidewalk in front of me. I disappointed myself by failing that test HARD. I’m mad at myself for not studying right now. And then I started making a list of all the things I’m mad at myself for. And girls, that list gets LONG. I could scribble the reasons on every inch of my skin and all over these painted walls and I could write the reasons all the way down to the damned skreet. And then I realized why I come back to this blog:

I’m sad. I don’t know where She comes from or who let the Twat in. I’m feeling kind of ill from the milk. I’m feeling kind of sleepy; maybe I didn’t sleep enough. I started crying hard a few moments ago. Perhaps there’s something deep inside me needing mending. Perhaps I have a lack of self-confidence. But this blog always brings me back. And I associate my blog with happy times, because I was the most successful at practicing joy when I was writing my Project Happiness 365. I don’t know what it is about blogging. Maybe I look for validation. Maybe I think, ‘If I can make someone laugh today, I will be worthwhile.’ Or, ‘If someone says my blog is good, then today I will hate myself just a little bit less.’ I always know when I’m looking for validation. I think that’s the curse that comes with being self-aware. Like when I turn on my OkCupid just “to see pretty people”. James. Let’s be real. You just want someone to tell you you’re pretty so then you can feel worthwhile for a few more seconds. That makes me turn off my OkCupid REAL queck.

Mental health is a real problem that I struggle with. Daily. Some days are better than others. You can probably guess what kind of day this one is. But the one thing that is constant is I feel like there’s a boxing match going on in my head.

And I better win, god damnit.

Postgraduate Center for Mental Health

Metropolitan Center for Mental Health

The Institute for Contemporary Psychotherapy

All have sliding scales for people without health insurance. Just in case you’re in NYC and looking for some mental health counseling but you’re too ashamed to google it.

I’m calling tomorrow.

My friends are awesome. They can make me laugh. They can make me feel pretty. They can distract me. But at the end of the day, it’s me, my pillow and that sinking feeling of my chest. And I’m sick of letting it run my life. In the altered words of Beyonce, “Who run this mother?! [JAMES!!!!!]”

It’s OK to be selfish sometimes. Especially if you’re feeling unhinged. Do the things you need to do to get back to you. People might get mad but they’ll understand.

Don’tgiveup Don’tgiveup Don’tgiveup Don’tgiveup


(Know how to accept help, please.)

photo (5)