What is up with Diaryland lately? Even the most obsessive writers aren't updating. I'll chalk the fact that only THREE people sent me questions (see:previous entry)up to Diaryland being in a slump. And now, for the answers to the questions only THREE people sent me! (And to Miss Black, Niki, and FoxGallagher, I love you guys)

From Miss Black:

1. If you could have any super power you wanted, what would it be, and why?

When I first saw this, I was going to go with one of the cliche superpowers: being invisible, flying, being able to read minds. But then I decided I'd much rather have the power to understand everything and not be confused by anything. Math. Languages. Boys. Everything.

2. What was the last book/movie/song to inspire you?

Hokay. This is way embarassing for me to write. But when have I ever held anything back from you folks? The answer to this question is the song "Having an Average Weekend" by the group Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet. This is the theme song to one of my favorite shows, The Kids in the Hall. Watching the show made me realize I wanted to do sketch comedy , but I only came up with the sketches I've written listening to that song on repeat very late at night.

3. If you had the money and the resources to design the perfect man, what would he be like (physically and personality-wise)?

Actually, a while back I did begin designing my own boy. See: here, here, here, and finally, here . Thankfully, after that I stopped. Wow...and you thought I wrote about stupid stuff NOW. (That was back when the diary first started, and I like to think all of us diary writers improve as time goes on.) As for how he would look? I don't care, just as long as he has green eyes.

From Niki :

1.) what ever became of the sperm donor, that is, your father?

Well friend, I'm glad you asked! Alright, here is the story of Bobo the Sperm Donor. It is long, and it will make me sound like a bitch. What else is new?

Bobo the Sperm Donor met my mother back in the 70's when she had moved to New Orleans from New York. She was happy to come into contact with another New Yorker, especially one that made her laugh as much as he did. So, blahdy blahdy blah, they fall in love. She remains with him, even though there is constant fighting and, alas, drugs have surfaced into the equation. And my father, God bless him, was no pussy. He did hardcore drugs. And lots of them. SOMEHOW, he didn't die in rock star fashion of an overdose or suicide. And not only was he still alive, but he was well enough to fuck. Enter: me. Once my mom find out about the "pleasant surprise" (read:"accident") that was to become the loser you read before you, she quit the partying. Yes, even when I was in utero, I didn't want people having fun. But Bobo the Sperm Donor was too far addicted to stop. Funny in a sad way story: he couldn't be present at my birth. Why? Because he was in jail. Love ya Dad!

Anyway. The details are kind of hazy, but I guess mum stayed with Bobo on and off until I was three, when the family packed up and headed for Florida. He came to visit us in Florida once when I was...four? I don't remember or care. Just know it was young enough for me to not remember it. Another funny in a sad way story: we took him to Busch Gardens. In his infinite wisdom, Dad decides to steal a stuffed animal for his daughter. "Hey, I'm a New Yorker," he thinks to himself. "These dumbass Florida security guards could never catch me!" Fast forward to when he had taken two steps out the door: Security Guard:"Sir, would you like to come with me?"

And that was the end of that. Until about the middle of seventh grade. We get this weirdass fucking call from a guy who claims to be friends with him. Friend was apparantly visiting his sister in the area. Dad heard Friend was visiting the area, and asked him to check if that phone number was still ours. Then we heard nothing until the summer before tenth grade. Bobo had finally got in touch with Friend and, hooray, now we could talk. Oh yay.

At this point in time, I can honestly say I had no real opinion of my father. He had left when I was young enough that I didn't remember, and I didn't really care. My mom had made a vow to not say anything bad about him to me-she didn't want to force her opinion on me. But after I started having conversations with him and got to know him, and saw what he was like, and saw that he had the biggest ego of anyone I knew even though he was the biggest loser of anyone I knew, I started to hate him. Yes, at this point, he was homeless on the streets of New York. Funny but sad story: some nights when he wanted a bed, he would con hospitals into thinking he was having chest pains. He thought he was so smart because he knew the comon symptoms of a heart attack, like your left arm going numb. He still does the occasional drug, but he spends a lot of time at a meth clinic now.

After a year or so, he finally got the fucking hint that I despised talking to him, and just despised him in general. He called the day before my birthday, I believe, and told me off. It was one of the best birthday presents I could have gotten.

Back then I didn't regret it. Now, even though it's only been a couple of years, I have grown up a lot, whether you believe it or not. I do feel bad about it now. I was a selfish bitch. He was just a sad man who wanted to forge a relationship with the daughter he never knew. Maybe the ego was just an act to hide the fact that he was a complete loser. We sent him a Christmas card this year to see how he was. Never heard back. He may be dead now. I don't know. I'm sorry this was so long. Moving on!

2.) Who was the first TV/Movie guy you obsessed over?

By "obsessed over," do you mean had a crush on? Because that would be, sadly, Kevin Costner. But if by "obsessed over" you mean reallllllly obsessed over, like with posters covering the walls and knowing everything about him, that would be Mr. Jonathan Brandis. Who I still can't believe is dead.

3.) What is your biggest fear of ALL TIME?

Hoo. Good question, good question. Being raped really scares me for some reason. I don't know why.

From FoxGallagher:

1 - Have you ever seen the Boondock Saints?

No. No I haven't. But I've heard it is wonderful, so I do want to see it.

2 - What's your favorite sport?

To watch: Yankee baseball. To play: ironically enough since I am freakishly short, basketball.

3 - What type of questions were you expecting with this? Answer one of them.

Hmm. I didn't know what to expect. Maybe "how did your obsession with (insert one of my many obsessions) start?" Or the desert island question. Ya know-if you were on a desert island and had one book, one album, and one other thing, what would they be? I guess I'll answer this question. Book: The Thief of Always by Clive Barker. Album: The Dance by Fleetwood Mac. Thing:computer.

Anyway, I apologize for this being so long and depressing. Please please please send more questions and I'll try to make up for this!

0 comments so far
<< & >>