Tag Archives: my 20s

Men Who Hate Women

Too bad I didn’t have this WW crown when I was working there. I could have summoned my inner Amazonian and kicked his ASS!

{Apologies to Stieg Larsson for borrowing his original book title}

I’ve had my mind on comics and comic book stores a lot lately, and so I’ve been thinking about the BEST job I ever had, ever. But because of one guy, it was also one of the most horrible workplace environments, ever.

In the mid-90s, I took a second job at a comic book/collectibles store to make extra money, and to try to forget about how bad my once-awesome-but-now-terribly-corporate video store job had gotten. I used to buy my comics there, and had discussed my rampant Clive Barker obsession with the owner several times, as he always seemed to have several signed books, figurines, etc. (as I found out later, he was good friends with Clive! SCORE). So, when I mentioned that I was looking for something part-time, he thought it would be awesome to have a chick working there who knew her stuff. It was a quick hire. I don’t even remember an interview, really. I had become so chummy with most of the staff that they already knew and liked me.

All of them I guess, except one.

For the purposes of this story, I will just call him “Dick.” It seems appropriate.

Dick had relocated to the fair city of Lynnwood from some small town in the mid-West, and as I came to find out, hated women. Not just a little, a lot. Or maybe it was just me? I guess I never quite figured it out. In any case, Dick was polite and accommodating when other employees or the manager/owner was around, but as soon as we were the only two in the store, he would have me do the most insane things, backed up with the excuse that “the owner” wanted it done. Continue reading


How to Sing Karaoke, Sober

Not an actual representation of me on stage, but I am most definitely drunk in this photo.

Okay, that title is a bit misleading. Because it sounds like this entry will be a primer on how-to do something, and it’s something I’m not even sure I can do. But, seeing how it’s the eve of the big Three Imaginary Girls 10th Anniversary Rockstar Karaoke New Wave Bash, I felt like I had to write something about how my massive stage fright might hamper my desire to get up there and belt out a few tunes.

See, I suffer from this thing called “being old.” And yes, I know I’m not that old. And yet, for some reason, the combination of three things has a tendency to make me very, very, very ill: standing for extended periods of time + being out late + booze. Basically, if I’m out at a show, drinking even the littlest bit of alcohol is like injecting poison straight into my veins.

Even like 1 glass of cider can make me feel like I’m going to hurl all night—waking me up about every 30 minutes to stumble into the bathroom, praying I can eject whatever is making me feel HORRRIBLE as quickly as possible.

After asking my doctor 100x why this is, she said, definitively, and for the 100th time, “You’re just getting old, my dear.” Auuugh. Really? I mean, I realize I probably ruined my bladder with all that Bacardi and Jose Cuervo in the 80s (and 90s … and 2000s) but COME ON (wo)MAN. Continue reading


Times when songs have been used to describe me

Look! It’s me! And I am totally NOT avoiding this party, motherf**ker!

I spend an inordinate amount of time wondering if what I write on here is going to offend someone, or how it will make them think of me, or how it will affect someone else—and all of these things end up making me drag my damn feet and are totally useless.

And I often do the same thing with the things I say out loud. Unfortunately, it’s usually WAY after I’ve said them that I realize they may have been misinterpreted, or taken in a way I don’t mean them. Because we all remember times when things have been said to us, and for whatever reason, those phrases STICK.

Even if we know they’re not true (then or now), or we’re puzzled over why they were said, or they hurt us deeply, or made us feel awesome. And thus, the first installment of “Times when songs have been used to describe me” – aka: “Things that have been said to me that I will likely never forget.”

1. One time at in like, 1992, shortly after U2’s ZOO TV tour (I remember this because I was wearing a gold glitter U2 t-shirt that was about 3 sizes too big for me), a bunch of friends were having a BBQ and dancing to “classic” – read: pre-1990 – U2 songs. When “With of Without You” came on, this guy that I vaguely remember said, very loudly, right after the “…and you give yourself away” lyric:

 “You do, you know. You give yourself away.”

I didn’t really know how to respond to that, or what he meant by it. And I didn’t want clarification, so instead I called him a “fucker,” hurled my beer bottle at him, and stomped out in a rage. Continue reading


Stumbling onto past ghosts

I look stoned here, but I assure you it was just the 90s.

Oh man. I came across some tucked away my wedding photos the other day and I all I could think of was how IMPOSSIBLY young I look. How fucking naïve my face is, and how miserable I know I was that day. And then, immediately following that, how I wish I could go back and tell that Amie not to do it. To skip out before we went through with it. To leave when my mom asked me if I wanted to back out.

Anything. Everything. To stop me from taking that leap. But, I did it. I went through with the traditional vows and had my first dance and watched all my friends and family be merry and get drunk and congratulate us.

Your past is part of makes you who you are. But I think it’s REALLY important to recognize that it doesn’t need to define you for the rest of your life.

Did I make a mistake marrying that guy? Probably. Did I know it at the time? I think I recognized on the honeymoon that it probably wasn’t the brightest idea I had, and I know for sure I stayed with him wayyyy longer than I should have because I didn’t want to branded a “failure”, but honestly, on that day? I convinced myself that I thought I was doing the right thing. Continue reading


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