CARMEL, CA-

When Angela has insomnia everybody suffers.

2am-

Me: Why are you on the floor?

Guy: You told me to get out of bed.

Me: You don’t want to sleep with me anymore because I’m too fat???

Guy: I do want to sleep with you because you’re beautiful, and you screamed if I didn’t get out of bed you would call the police.

Me: I can’t believe the first thing you say to me when I wake up is that I’m fat.

Guy: Can I get back in bed?
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SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA-

You know, I am truly a mess. Mentally, physically, ethically- and yes, I am a total slob. Notorious, really. My friends all talk about it ad nauseum. It’s the stuff of folklore and legends.

And yes, it is really that bad.

I have managed- albeit through years of alienation, frustration, and verbal abuse (plus that one time I was excommunicated from the Catholic Church) - to wrangle my habits and barely scrape by on an almost functioning degree of cleanliness…but even then, only when someone is looking.

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SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA-

We all lie to ourselves, I believe. It’s necessary in order to get through these troubled times, with all of its politic and economic what-not. Like, how all of us have to compensate for the fact that we sit around watching reality TV, eating chocolate zucchini bread and salami all day after devouring a full family-sized bottle of Nyquil by ourselves, listening to the entire Clueless soundtrack 14 times the night before, leaving the house mostly just for minimum wage part-time work, fucking sociopathic exes who treat us like shit, and holding on to our one and only lofty goal of going on extreme makeover (mostly for our preemptive vaginoplasties, but also to do something about our kidney infection-induced acne) – you know, the stuff we all go through on a daily basis.

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SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA

It’s hard not to feel like I’m in high school. I’m 27 and I’m living with my mom again. Except in high school I had a car and less acne.

But moving in with mom hardly seems like a choice at this point – it’s something I’ve been hurtling toward head-on through the universe for quite some time.

Let’s go back a year.

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PACIFIC GROVE, CA -

A month after he left, I realized I hadn’t gotten my period. I thought that this sucked. Not because of a perhaps potential child (which sucked in its own right in such a way that there was no possibility I’d have been prepared to wrap my head around it at the time), but because of the fact that I’d probably have to call him.

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SACRAMENTO, CA -

I live in downtown Sacramento.

I hate working because like most shit it’s simultaneously gay and gayer, which is why I am on paid leave for my carpal tunnel syndrome. I used to work at a clothing store I won’t mention (FUCK YOU URBAN OUTFITTERS), but I liked not going too much. So eventually they decided to give me paid leave because if they fired me they were afraid I’d do something all Taliban-y. What-EVES!

Anyhow … $146 is about what I get per week. This averages around $580 a month. Which, according to Oprah, is poverty level. But I don’t abuse the system like some of those ghetto people, oh no. In fact, I think $580 a month is a fine income. If people don’t have running water it’s their own fault. But maybe they need guidance, I’m thinking, so I’m going to do a monetary breakdown of my monthly spending in order to show people how to not be povertous in these hard times. (more…)