The faint aroma of imaginary success

Doing the show on my own this past Sunday was liberating, and by all accounts was decidedly better than every other show I had done with the former co-host. My comedian guests, Ian Salmon and Sarah Newell, were fabulous and very generous to spend their time with me on Sunday after doing a huge gig the night before - a Def Comedy Jam event! Look these people up on MySpace, they're really nice and fun, and overall I was very very happy with how the show went. I need to upload it for sure. This one I am actually proud of, minus me stumbling over the very long call letters and legal ID of the station at the opening of the show. It just sucks not having almost any time to dedicate to serious production work. It should already be edited and ready for your listening pleasure, but I am so tired, I can barely dress myself in the morning.
Which brings me to my next point. As much as I honestly heart the Junkies, and Bret O, and pretty much everyone at WJFK, I don't know how much more of this schedule I can take. My internship is officially done in a few weeks, so naturally I would like to have a sit-down with the PD and see if they can make any room for me at all there. I can't imagine not ever seeing any of the wonderful people I've met at the station. The thought of it really makes me sad. But come on, waking up at 3:30 AM three times a week for FREE?! I mean, if I can at least get some paid hours at the station, I could cut back more at the salon and live more like a human and less like a zombie. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll become the most hated Junkette! Ha ha ha.

Whatever, it's time to brag. A famous person who may or may not have appeared on the show in recent weeks called me today! He actually called me! I am honestly floored by how kind and wonderful and cordial people can be, when you least expect it. Am I retarded to hope for an actual long-term friendship? Every time someone expresses any form of liking me, my first response is to laugh in my own face. But why the hell not? Total retards go around liking people and being liked back, so I deserve a little bit of love and respect too, and it might as well be from well-known public figures. Maybe if I got more of it as a sickly infant, I wouldn't feel so doubtful about it all now... Yes, it all comes back to the mommy issues. Wah, wah, wah! No, but seriously.... When I think about the fact that my mom got married and knocked up with me by age 20, I just feel bad for her. I really did ruin her life. No wonder she pawned me off to my grandparents for much of my baby-hood so she could at least finish college. She claims she's happy, but I know that when my birthday rolls around on Monday, AKA Cinco de Mayo, she will remind me once again about how the labor almost killed her. She just can't help herself. I know it was traumatic, but I can't spend my entire life feeling guilty for existing. Or maybe I can. My guilt levels are always at a nice, steady level, peaking in the red during holidays.

This coming up Sunday, another really funny local comedian will join me in studio. I met him at a bar downtown. His name is Peter. Before I even knew he was a comedian, he made me crack up while serving us drinks. He made fun of yuppy people in the neighborhood who call their children Dylan, Declan, Madison, and Carter without any provocation, without thinking twice that perhaps MY name is Dylan, Declan, Madison, or Carter. I liked that about him. He just knew it would make us all laugh. He made fun of us too, right to our faces. I respect that kind of person. So anyway, he'll be my guest and it's guaranteed to be a great show!

cringe

What a disaster this last show was. I feel truly embarrassed, and wish I could erase the day not only from my own memory, but from the memories of those unfortunate souls who chanced to hear the debacle.
Despite several warnings and pleas to my former co-host for proper, professional conduct, he hi-jacked the show and took it completely off the rails with his vulgar, simplistic, and completely out of place comments. The charm of working with him at first was that he was quiet and only spoke in response to my topics. I had always liked him during school and enjoyed the audio projects he created, so when I first thought of working with him, I couldn't even suspect that he would turn out to be such a loose cannon. Well, that's exactly what he was. He interrupted me, our callers, and made me feel truly comfortable. I wanted to cut the program short and run away crying, but alas, I had to sit there and wait it out. He was probably just excited and couldn't control himself, which is bad... but what if he ultimately doesn't care that I'm the one that created the show, and that he has to recognize his place in the scheme of things? That's much worse, isn't it? He just wants to do what he wants to do, and say the things he likes to say, which are pretty much too absurd and too foul even for me.

For the love of the baby Jesus, please tune in next Sunday and give the new and improved show a chance! There will be guests, there will be calls, and I'll actually try to round up prizes for anyone who even bothers to participate in the show interactively; i.e. calling in, e-mailing, supporting in any way. There will be no more wild, overbearing co-host. Only the strangely addicting phenomenon that is me ;-)

But the truth is I feel awful and nervous. I don't like conflict of any kind, so writing the email breaking off the on-air relationship was very difficult. I wish him all the best of luck, but I just know that I can't wait around for him to mature as a performer. I honestly hate this feeling. This is how it felt when I would first start dating someone and then realize within a day or two that he was creepy, while he was completely oblivious and thought things were going great. The break-up would hit him completely out of the blue, and after that point all the affection he felt for me would turn into bitter resentment. That's what I hope doesn't happen now. Enough people out there hate me already.

*sigh*

The Mariya Alexander Show - Episode 2

Join me tomorrow, Sunday April 13 @ 1 PM for another exciting hour of The Mariya Alexander Show featuring The Incredible White Bean aka Chris Green.

Is Barrack Obama really a long-legged mack daddy? Would you be a pedophile for a day if it meant you made someone's dying wish come true? Don't the poor women in Darfur deserve to not be raped and tortured as they forage for fire wood? (This one is serious.) There is no topic we won't cover, and no body part we won't expose as we court the attention of our fickle, barely there audience. Tune into:

http://stations.swcast.net/urbancowgirl777

or, if you're a resident of Fairfax County you can catch us on:

Cox channel 37
or
Comcast channel 27

every Sunday at 1 PM !!!!

If you have a charity or creative endeavor you'd like to promote, or if you have a great idea you'd like to hear on the fake radio, OR if you have no life and the generosity of Mother Teresa and simply want to help out with promotion and organization, please leave a comment or email me: mariyamedia@verizon.net.
Angry redneck stalkers need not apply. Stalkers of other varieties possibly welcome.

Uncle Sam is a selfish bastard who only cares about himself

I was late for my internship at WJFK on Monday because it took forever to get our taxes done. My poor grandma didn't realize what a circus she was in for. "You'll be out of here in like 40 minutes," she said, but NO DICE. With five W-2's between the both of us, as well as two 1099's from Thanasi, we were there until like 11, trying to knock down the monster debt to something a little more manageable. This meant I didn't fall asleep 'till like 11:30, which led to my not even reacting to my alarm when it rang to wake me up at 4 AM. I woke up in a panic about 5 minutes before the Junkies went live, and called Bret the producer, and of course, always being the sweetheart that he is, he said it was "Cool". I wonder if "cool" really means "I don't give two shits whether you're here or not, your presence is felt so little". I rushed over there anyway, with ragged hair and almost no make-up. I felt really out of sorts all day.

After listening to my show on Sunday, my parents complained that I made them look bad by confessing to the audience - all 10 of them - that we were very poor when we came to the US and that I had horrid, mis-matched clothes from thrift stores and the salvation army and kids made fun of me. In fact, they accused me of lying and exaggerating, claiming that I never wore second-hand clothes. It's amazing how little they remember about those times. I know they were busy working and trying to improve our situation, but my sister and I DID live through some frightening times. I even have a shirt that we got at some thrift store, or that the Jewish Community Center donated to us, still folded in my closet. I still wear it sometimes! My mother demanded I show it to her as proof, but I know that they won't acknowledge the fact that I was a complete and utter loser, mostly through no fault of my own.
"But we brought over our own clothes with us, that we bought in Turkey and Italy when we used to travel for our business back home!" they said defensively.
Yeah, well, the problem with those clothes was that they looked absolutely nothing like what the American kids were wearing, probably because everything I had was meant for adults, hung strangely on me, and by that point was obviously outdated. Every time I see old photos, I literally cringe, and I got to do a lot of that on Sunday! My parents are in the middle of remodeling their entire house, so all my old albums and yearbooks have resurfaced. I'll try to scan in some photos sometime soon so everyone can see what the fuck I'm talking about! It isn't a joke. I'm traumatized, damn it! And the yearbooks are the worst. All the inane, superficial comments, just so we don't have to feel alone... *sigh*

Oh well. Life sucks. Feeling alone is a permanent state of mind for me and I've come to accept it.

So, like totally K.I.T. and H.A.G.S. y'all!

HURRAH!

The first broadcast of the Mariya Alexander Show featuring the great White Bean AKA Beanus W, was a stellar success. This is especially true considering that I ran the board, fired sound effects and clips from a CD instead of a handy sound effect machine, and that we really didn't have the opportunity to practice or really plan anything major due to Beanus' circumstances with jobs and finances. We even had some phone calls! Of course my mom had to call in, even though she was so nervous, she just stammered her way through it and hung up quickly; and Emily from the salon called in, baby Jesus bless her heart; but otherwise the calls were from actual random listeners! A guy in Canada somehow stumbled upon the webcast, and a local woman also called, as did another girl whose show comes on after ours, and all to tell us that we didn't suck! Well, I can promise that next week we will not suck even more. We're going to get together and plan bits and topics, and do a better job of promoting. I waited until the last minute to let people know to listen because frankly I almost didn't want everyone to judge it in such a raw state, but I don't care anymore. It is what it is, and compared to the garbage that dominates most of the airwaves -on commercial and underground radio stations alike - our show definitely stands out. We aren't a "buddy" show with two brain-dead, identical clones talking about getting drunk together and hating people, we aren't uptight NPR-like drones who care too much about "issues"... We're just fun people who like gay pandas!

I DID mess up by arming the recorder and then not actually recording our show, so that sucks. I wanted to put it up on YouTube, but now everyone will have to wait until next Sunday to hear us live. I'll definitely make sure and record that one, so that should be up on YouTube and maybe MySpace? I guess now would be a good time to get some sort of podcasting site membership too. I'm so retarded at this part. I need a publicist and a producer! Any volunteers? We can't afford to pay you, but you will feel loved.

Also, if you have a band, or maybe you're a blingin' rapper, or maybe you have an interesting fetish, or just about anything at all that can make for good radio, please give me a holler. =)

Ta ta for now. It's time to go to Grandma's house so she can do our taxes. That's right. I got people.

"We will restore chaos..."

I found the most incredible British website with the most extensive collection of Bush-isms ever! They have clips that American media either missed or purposely chose to ignore, and they are all hilarious! I always knew Mr. Prez wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed - though a tool to be certain - but I have never ever ever heard anyone talk such gibberish in such a comical manner! There are clips in which it's not even possible to get a gist of what he's trying to say, that's how garbled his thoughts are. Congratulations America. You have officially elected a mentally retarded man to be your leader. Time to smoke him out! ;-)

So speaking of places you can hear such funny audio clips and more, my show proposal did get approved by the program director at Fairfax Public Access, so now I am waiting for a time slot to be assigned. I just received the letter on Saturday. I'm pretty excited. Good thing I've been spending every free moment stalking the internet for audio content and interesting stories. The Mariya Alexander Show will prevail - you mark my words, oh haters and silent admirers alike!

On the personal front, Janey's visit home was too short for how ridiculously saturated my schedule is. I really only got to hang out with her a day and a half, and naturally, we spent the last part of that time bickering. As soon as I picked her up from the airport on Wednesday afternoon, I had to run to work and stay there until about 8:30. And that's after already being up since 3:30 AM and doing my time at WJFK. It really is amazing that anyone could question my devotion to the station and to the show. I get up at the most ungodly hours to go work for FREE. I ASKED to be assigned to this show too. I could have chosen a different show to work with when I applied for the internship. I could have had more sleep. I could have had some semblance of a sex life. (Yes, unfortunately there has been a temporary drought for the past week, due to utter exhaustion.) I wanted to work for the best show at WJFK, though, and so here I am. Hate if you must, but I am anything but ungrateful and un-dedicated.
Boy, how I digressed! Anyway, so Wednesday went by, and Thursday went by even quicker. I worked all day, 9 AM until about 8:30. Then Friday it was back to the radio station in the morning, and then back to work at the salon in the afternoon. At least Janey and Thanasi and I had time to grab some lunch at Ri Ra before I went to work on Friday. Ri Ra is THE BEST Irish restaurant ever, by the way! Even their vegetarian options are delicious and flavorful. I always feel like restaurants don't even bother with trying to make their veggie dishes taste good - they just have them to be politically correct. This place, on the other hand, infuses each dish with flavor and fresh ingredients. And the waiters are so cute! I have a weakness for the Irish and their sexy accents. If you do too, go to Ri Ra in Bethesda and enjoy!

Now for the pay-off of this whole entry. If you've read this far and managed to stay awake, stay tuned just a bit longer, because my life is the most awkward, painful experience ever! So remember how I mentioned that I liked the nice Japanese girl who applied for the receptionist position? Well, as soon as I began to train her, she turned into that little creature from "The Grudge" and started to scare the living shit out of me and everyone at the salon. It really is surreal how I attract the most crazy of the crazies. Within a couple hours of being at the salon ON HER FIRST DAY, she began going for breaks every 15 minutes or so. She kept complaining of being tired and having a headache. Then she asked if it would be alright if instead of coming in at 9 AM when she's supposed to actually be there, she would come at 9:30. I said that no, that would not be alright because we hired her to work specific hours and she said she could do it. So then she confessed to being on several strong psychiatric medications which often prevent her from waking up at a decent hour in the morning. I tried to keep my composure and be encouraging, but frankly I knew right then that her time with us was to be short-lived. She then continued to regale me with stories of parental abuse and long stays at mental hospitals. Then, to top it all off, when I asked her to pick up the phone and start confirming appointments, she looked me dead in the face and said "Oh... I'm scared... I have really bad phone anxiety." Talk about lying at your interview! This girl may be crazy, but she was smart enough to lie to us and convince us that she had at least some basic social skills. We just thought she was foreign and cute with her accent. Turns out she's just off her rocker and can't even control the inflection of her voice because she's so disconnected from how normal humans interact and behave. She asked me in her high-pitched voice "Mariyaaaaaa, whaat do I doooo if I really liiiiike someone but he doesn't seeeem to liiiiike me at aaaalllll?"
"Who is this someone?" I asked her. "Someone you went to school with? How do you know him?"
"He's just some guuuuuuy that works at Trader Joooes. I reaaallly like taaaaalking to hiiiiim, but a coooouple of daaaays ago I toooold him abooouut a psychooootic episooode I haaad, and heee called me a psyyyychoooo." (She really draws out her vowels like that)
What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? That was her second day at work, and at that point we had all had enough. The clients were afraid of her, all the stylists were flabbergasted by her, and so the salon owners told me to call her and let her down gently. The salon environment and the extremely social, busy, PHONE-oriented work it involves simply wasn't right for a phone-phobic, episode-having freak. I really actually liked her on a personal level - she entertained the hell out of me and was so deferential that I could have really gotten used to having her around to cheer me on. But alas, I did what I had to do. I called her, couldn't reach her, so left a polite message on her voicemail telling her not to come in the next morning.....
That night (Friday), as Janey and Thanasi and I were chilling out with some beers and queers (okay, no queers), my phone rang at about 11:30 PM. It was HER! Boy, all that depressive niceness went right out the window! She was suddenly fierce!

"Whaaaat am IIII suppoooosed tooo dooooo?! Thiiiiis is veeerrryy unfaaaaaaair! I aaaalreeeeaaaaady quiiiiit my ooother joooooob. I waaaaant to seeeeee a coooopy of the emploooooyment contraaaaact!"

Contract? It's some shitty hair salon! She filled out an application, not a contract! No one owes her anything. It even says on the application that the company reserves the right to fire anyone at any time for any reason, and she signed it! I tried to explain all this nicely, gently, but she was relentless. I've never seen or heard anyone fight so fiercely against being fired. Finally I had to basically cut her off because I was beginning to nod off. It was late! I quickly said good-bye and hung up, cursing myself for giving her my cell #, and praying that she wouldn't find out where I live. Janey, my darling little sister, had a Japanese stalker once -a virtual stranger that became obsessed with her and showered her with gifts and late-night suicide calls. I remember this lasted for years. I don't have time for something like that right now.

On Saturday I had to work all day too, 9-5. This day flew by quickly, though, and brought a final solution to all our problems. I don't mean final solution as in the eradication of all the crazy Japanese girls, but rather as in the hiring of my dear friend Jenn to work at the salon. It just so happened that she left her old job a day or two before, and the timing couldn't be more perfect! The owners and the stylists really liked her, so we put her to work immediately after the informal interview. I could finally relax and cut back on my hours like I've been wanting to do!

After work on Saturday, we had to run to meet my parents for dinner at Tara Thai. We hadn't seen them in weeks, and they really wanted to at least get us all together while Jane was in town. It was a regular old dinner with my folks - slurping, burping and overeating (mostly my Dad's accomplishments). It was yummy and fun nonetheless. I love the casual relationship I've always had with my parents. We can literally talk about anything - sex, drugs, rock and roll - nothing makes them blush. So as we were sitting there and having a great time, Thanasi suddenly tensed up as he looked out the window.

"Oh shit, here come my mom and sister!" We all started acting like awkward teenagers trying to avoid someone - looking down at the table, whistling, shifting around in our seats. Then we realized that we were acting like jerks - we couldn't just avoid my husband's mother and his sister no matter how badly we wanted to. We ambushed them at the door and greeted them a little too warmly and enthusiastically. We forced them to join our table, even though we were half-way done with our dinner, and they looked like they wanted to cry and run away too. Everyone tried to make polite conversation, but I could tell we were all dying inside. So just as the waitress brought out mother-in-law's and sister-in-law's main course, my husband and sister and I did the best possible thing. We got up and left. We had to leave anyway - we had a friend's dance performance to catch at Joy of Motion, but the timing just couldn't have worked out better and funnier. My poor parents! My poor mother-in-law! They were left to navigate the murky waters of forced small talk on their own. I only wished we had a way to watch the whole thing come crashing down after our departure. I can laugh about it now, but I honestly almost fainted from anxiety.

The dance performance was an adventure too! It was a showcase of all the different dance styles offered at Joy of Motion, with each class performing a choreographed, complicated number for our amusement. With evidently no standards for any prerequisite level of expertise to participate in this show, you can imagine how hilarious it was to see people of all ages and shapes and sizes gyrate and contort to music together. I could have sworn I saw an old Jewish lady that goes to our salon doing the "jazz hands" and lifting up her skirt to reveal her scraggly legs during a big Broadway number.
The friend we were there to support was good, though. I've been out dancing with her, and already knew I could expect a good show.
Afterwards, her entire group wanted to go out and celebrate. We walked to a nearby bar/restaurant, and everyone spent about half an hour trying to figure out where to sit. We ended up breaking away from the pack and just went to the bar, where I met a pretty funny stand-up comedian/bartender named Pete. He was chubby, he was balding, he was angry - hilarious! I got his email and will friend him on MySpace as soon as I finish writing this epic entry.
And that's about it for my weekend. After having a few drinks, we left the merry group to celebrate and went back to the house. I amazed myself by staying up until like 1 and drinking several more Heineken Lights. I guess I was revved up from all the excitement of watching tutu-clad senior citizens and fatties prance around. I would definitely recommend attending such dance recitals often. They are cheap, if not free, and guaranteed to please!

Janey Poo and other types of poo too

My little sister will be here in about an hour and I couldn't be more excited! This creature has been a pain in my ass for so long, I honestly can't believe how close we've become lately. It's amazing what growing boobs and getting drunk together can do for a relationship. She's the one that has done most of the boob-growing in our family, so I can't take any credit there, but still. My little baby is all grown up! I can't wait to see her.

Today was my first day back at the station since the grand club-fest on Monday's show, and it was uneventful and quiet, which is good. As thrilling as all that attention was - the suggestions to fire me, the name-calling - my racing heart needed a little rest. The good news is that The Big O himself smiled at me and said hello very nicely when I greeted him today, complimenting me on a job well done, so I guess I really can't ever turn down his request for a sandwich as I previously planned on doing. ;-) Also, a friendly member of the custodial staff is now leering at me suggestively and calling me "hot" whenever he sees me. Ladies and gentlemen (mostly gentlemen), I have arrived!

Last night was fun. My dear Jenn came over and entertained me with stories of almost joining a Mexican gang in Cali while Mr. T was teaching his class. Then we ran to Chipotle and darted through the door literally as they were about to lock up for the night. I know all those poor people behind the counter were wishing they could spit into our food. Instead they seemed to have made my burrito extra spicy, which led to unfortunate circumstances during my private contemplation time this morning. How can something be even spicier coming out than it was going in?! Despite this, I just polished off the remaining spicy green salsa (medium by Chipotle's ludicrous standards) with some chips, and expect more pain to come later tonight. I never learn. How do Hispanic and Asian peoples deal with this problem? Are their rectums numb?