Stone Phillips, be my guide.

I like to watch depressing and brutal shit on tv. I have no idea how or why this started but there it is. I’m a huge fan of Dateline, 48 Hours, I Survived, The First 48, Disappeared, Deadly Women, Wicked Attraction. But because I love these real stories of mayhem and occasional survival, I can’t stand shows like CSI, NCIS or any other show that is mostly acronyms. I like the real stuff.


These shows teach us a lot about all the ways we can be terrorized and/or die. Due to hours and hours of true crime education, I have learned the following life lessons:

1. Don’t ever get married. Without warning, your spouse will lose their mind and hack you to pieces. It doesn’t matter if you are newlyweds or if you’ve been in a loving marriage for 47 years. Usually this will happen for the life insurance payout or possibly because they are having an affair. Or maybe both. Which brings me to my next point.

2. Don’t get life insurance. As soon as your spouse, children or best friend finds out about it, they will knock you unconscious, put you in your car and set it on fire. They’ll get caught but you’ll be dead so what good will that do you?

3. If someone from your past shows up unannounced, don’t let them in your house. It might be your grandmother, an old friend who just happened to be in town or an ex of some kind. Whoever it is, they are there to kill you. Call 911 immediately.

4. If you break the first rule and get married, when you get divorced, immediately change your identity. If your ex-spouse finds you or—worse yet—is co-parenting with you, eventually and for no interesting reason, they will go bat shit crazy, kidnap you and stuff you in a garbage can that they will then place in a storage locker. Seriously.

5. Don’t drive at night. If a car pulls up alongside you, swerve off the road in a wild, reckless fashion because whoever is in that car has a gun and is planning to shoot you.

6. If you get a flat tire, Jesus Christ, do not let anyone assist you. Because they will assist you right into your grave.

7. Deciding to go on a cruise is like deciding to jump off the Sears Tower—it is a guaranteed death sentence, either by murder or dysentery.

8. Speaking of travel, for the love of God, do not travel internationally. You might think you’re having a lovely Sandals Resort vacation but at some point, there will be a violent military coup, you’ll be kidnapped by guerillas and taken on a death march through the jungle.

9. Animals are not your friends, nor are they cute. They are simply waiting for the right moment to rip your left arm off and beat you to death with it.

10. Don’t attempt to do anything alone. You will get your arm stuck in something and no one will hear you scream and you will try to cut your arm off and then you will have only one arm.

11. Feel like going for a snowmobile ride? You might as well play Russian Roulette with yourself but only this time, the gun will be fully loaded.

12. Boats—whether fishing vessels, yachts, row boats or canoes—will only lead to a watery grave.

The Year of Dresden Jones

Even I'm surprised I didn't take to the Internet and go loco on y'all about some recent events.  To be honest, I feel as if I've lost a bit of my mojo.  2010 was a shit year, that's for sure.  And that really pisses me off because, at the start of 2010, I told everyone, "It's The Year of Dresden Jones."  I was serious--I was going to get shit done.  But you know that "self-fulfilling prophecy" stuff people talk about?  Yeah.  That.

As I watched the Vikings lose their only viable shot at the Super Bowl in 400 years because Brad Childress cannot count, I thought, "Oh shit...is this an omen?  Will this not be The Year of Dresden Jones?"  This sounds ridiculous and I'm 100% aware of that.  But I go through life thinking trivial things mean everything and the obvious signs mean nothing.  Like, "If I make it through this light, I'll totally get a promotion at work."  Where the hell does that come from?

Anyway, I was disappointed but determined not to let football (fucking football) derail The Year of Dresden Jones.  And to be fair to the NFL, football had nothing to do with it.  No.  It was allllll me, baby.  I consumed and staggered and blacked out through the year, right up until the very end.  Well, that's not entirely true...in September I found myself so devastated that I had to stop driving and sob in my car.  Why?  Because it was most certainly not The Year of Dresden Jones and that was becoming abundantly clear.

But...have you ever taken you car in for an oil change and suddenly they tell you, "Well, you need an oil change, new wiper blades, 2 new tires (because you can't get just one new tire), your head gasket is leaking and you lost your muffler somewhere on Interstate 94."  That's kind of what happened.  Only not to my car.  To me.

I've been acutely aware that I'm nuts for a long time.  To try and remedy this, I see therapists, I take pills, I cry a lot, I write, I drink, I tell people to fuck off, I buy make-up and shoes, I go to the gym, I listen to music, I drink, I get my eyebrows waxed, I solve other people's problems, I eat, I get a massage, I laugh my ass off, I drink, I determine that I am the smartest person in the world, I cry a lot, I decide I need to move, I drink, I get involved with men who have nothing to offer me (or the universe), I decide I need a new job, I take a vacation, I drink, I attempt to stuff something, anything into this gigantic hole inside me and when that fails, I drink.

And then BAM!  Something crazy occurs.  And I stop and wonder, "Well how the hell did that happen?"  Then I feel sorry for myself and I decide that I've been dealt a shit hand and everyone has an easier, happier existence than me.  That makes it easier for me to hate everyone and everything--myself the very most. 

I've been spinning through life and acting surprised when I get dizzy and fall down.

Then I met this man.  When I first saw him, I thought, "Old...messy life...probably has a criminal record.  No good; file him in 'stay away.'"  I sat next to him like a rocket about to take off, through the ceiling, my arms crossed tightly, my legs jumping, my jaw clenched.  This is how I usually am.  Why?  Because I'm uncomfortable.  I have to be doing something--making people laugh, showing people how smart I am, drinking.  And even though I was a cold, uptight bitch for an entire hour, that man turned to me and smiled and said, "You're going to be ok."  Then he gave me a little something and told me to keep it in my pocket.  I wept--not because his gift was so glorious or because I was so upset.  But because this man, who I had judged so harshly upon first sight, was so kind to me, so accepting.  And he was right.  I am going to be ok.  After all...it's The Year of Dresden Jones.

This is why I could never be a superhero

My favorite part of going to the movies is really the previews. I like to see what terrible films Ben Affleck and Kate Hudson plan to terrorize me with. When I saw Black Swan, there was a preview for Sucker Punch, a "girls can do anything boys can do, only better and in way cuter outfits" flick. From what I gathered, a hot chick is thrown into a psych ward merely for defending herself against a man and a hot dominatrix-type with smokey eyes shows her that the keys to freedom lie within her imagination. She meets a guru-esque older gentleman, who explains how she will find what she seeks (freedom? Happiness? Self confidence? A new cherry red lipstick?). He tells her she must find 5 things: a map, a key, fire, a knife and a mystery. While watching this exchange, I imagine all the questions I would have for the guru; questions that would totally derail the whole spiritual process. This may be my whole problem in life.

"You need to find five things: a map--"

Wait, a map of what? Like a globe or a flat map? Of the world or just the United States? Or wait--like a Mapquest map? Like turn-by-turn directions? More information would help, I'm just sayin'....

"...a key..."

A key to what? A car key? A skeleton key? Does it need to open something or is it just a symbolic key? Wait, wait--am I taking this too literally? Do you mean, like, the key to your heart? Or an answer key? Like to a test? Is this a test? Is there going to be a test?

"...a knife..."

A butter knife? A paring knife? A bread knife? A little knife? Or is it a big knife? I mean...there are a lot of knives out there. Also...will there be many knives and I have to figure out which one is the right one? Or will I just know that it's the right knife? Or will there only be one knife and that's definitely 100% for sure the knife you're talking about? Throw me a bone, dude.

"...fire..."

Wait, what? What do you mean? What do you mean, 'fire'? How do you bring back fire? Is it in candle form? A torch? Or do I just need to find a lighter? Oh--do I need to make a fire? Like using a rock and a magnifying glass or something? Is it a firePLACE? I really don't know how the hell I can bring you fire. What if I burn the fuck up? What then? Then this whole thing will have been a giant waste of time.

"...and a mystery."

Ok, now you're just fucking with me. This whole goddamned thing is a mystery! Is this...are you...am I being punked or whatever? For real, I'm not busting my ass for nothing. What did you say your name was again? Do you have a degree or something? I call bullshit.

Strap yourself in, Mags.

I got my first angry comment!  YES.  You know what this means?  It means that enough people are reading and sharing my blog that even someone who reads blindly and is angered by something she thinks is happening was pissed off enough to take the time to write a comment about an old post   (See comments under the blog: "Oooooooh sir.  Oh sir.").  Let's all thank "Margaret" for stopping by.  I will always post your comments--they make me giddy.