Pushing and Pulling LIEf.

**For a dear friend** Why is it that we are so intrigued by a "chase?" Why can't we see what we have until it is gone? I have been conditioned through heart break to create my very own safe haven made from the armored walls and a tight door from which one could not pass through easily. Sometimes, we find an even "safer" place and give out the combination to our locks. Once we become vulnerable and raw, we no longer exude the same confidence... the novelty... the chase... the allure of what we once were. How though, do we go back to where there was passion with that person? Bringing it up in conversation only sounds like nagging... and then if they start doing the things they stopped doing in the first place, it feels as though it is only being done because we conversed regarding such love lost. It is as if you are playing a brutal game of tug-o'-war with the strongest man in the world... who possesses your heart, knows your weaknesses, and isn't playing fair. You feel as though you can never win. I suppose you just have to find that person who will love you for everything you are, just as well as for what you are not. Maybe it is alright to be comfortable with the rations behind your unbreakable walls, for now. 

xx Your LIEfer

Damned if you do...Anything in LIEf.

Bittersweet-- as most of our life seems to be... No matter what we do, we are damned if we do. There is no "damned if we don't" scenario involved. Everything we do affects someone else, at their best, or more occasionally; at their worst. I honestly would love to believe people have good intentions, however, be real... is that too much to ask? I am afraid so. It is amazing to see the scripts played-out within the "hollywood-life" vs. that of the "beach-town-life".... I get this gratifying kick out of such influences. How can one group make such speculations regarding the other, when really, they are one in the same... Pathetic in the sense of disillusionment/ambiguity. Don't you get tired of hiding who you really are?... Or who you may be?

xx Your LIEfer

The "good" LIEf

Humans, we are amazing... we seem to have this innate desire to believe in each other. Rousseau's "simple" idea stating all humans are genuinely and intrinsically good and noble in their hearts, has left me impatient. I am guilty of giving people the benefit of the doubt... and I don't doubt many of you are as well. For me personally, I have realized hurt is much more powerful when you allow it to happen. The thought of being able to have avoided said pain or agony tends to also bring on feelings of regret. With that being said... after 25 years of believing in someone, I became desensitized towards particular situations. I decided to remove myself from the following equation: Allen Pater (dad) + Alexandria Pater (me) = big fat let down. I wish I could say the same for my sisters. Bless their hearts, but they bear a striking resemblance to Kentucky Derby horses; you know, the ones with the blinders on either sides of their eyes. Smacking one of them in the side of the head could startle the poor horse as they would not see it coming. However, after years of being stood up, ignored and rejected by our so-called "father," you would imagine the Pater-girls could feel the stinging smack of a letdown lingering from years passed.

It is so amazing to me how our hearts tend to be our biggest enemies at times. As I mentioned in a previous blog, we have this "gift" (I say curse) to forget just why we decided to remove ourselves from certain equations in the past. We find ourselves believing the real enemy (ex-boyfriend, dad, ex-friend... what have you) wanting things to be better, like the "good times." We want to believe Rousseau... that people are "good." In such an influential world, people should be able to change. Perhaps that is why we allow ourselves to be repeatedly letdown. Unfortunately sometimes, we must take things for what they are worth and live in the moment without the expectations... we may be pleasantly surprised. I like surprises better than letdowns... Easier said than done, I know. Just rework your equations... Mine currently reads: Jennifer Bradley (momma) + Allen Pater (sperm donor) = Alexandria Pater (me, and my LIEf). 

I love you Jo.

xxYour LIEfer.

Sabotaging the LIEf.

I may need to first understand why chicken noodle soup, footie pajamas and Kill Bill inspire me to blog... about my ridiculous tendency to self-sabotage. Sure, sure... we all have our fair share of issues from childhood. Parents are divorced, daddy issues.. blah blah. Familiar story so many have told. Mine is no different. However, I have chosen to broadcast my somewhat unfortunate upbringing via blogspot. Now since living in LA, I have yet to deem it necessary to settle down. I suppose the fact that I don't let people get too close to me, thanks to my past relationships with men, hasn't helped the cause. I have been on a path of destruction and for whomever has been in that wake, I am sorry. Yes, this is me, publicly apologizing to you for my asinine, irrational, possibly drunk behavior. So as I sit here, and try to wiggle my limbs out of entropy... I get it. I understand I have been wrong and maybe a bit selfish. I suppose you have to take chances in order to move forward in life, in all aspects.

I am certain that outside of my "daddy-issues," Stan is to blame. The sickening, pathetic, mistake began soon after the initial introduction. I was a young intern at Fox Sports Northwest working as the producer’s assistant along with holding the glorious title of “rally fry girl” for the Seattle Mariners… That’s right, I handed out a big basket of French fries to the fan with the most obnoxious sign. You better believe that accomplishment is headlining my resume. Along with that greasy assignment, I was also fortunate enough to parade around at the Seattle Seahawks’ training camp. Being the only girl on the field with nearly 100 testosterone-driven men was a fun confidence-booster, similar to entering a bar in "Hicksville" wearing high heels and a mid-drift shirt… Instant gratification. Well Stan quickly made an impression on me and I began to chase him around like a little flea-bitten lap-dog. I was unaware that a "man" could make me so dependent and insecure.  This boy could have murdered me and brought me back to life and I still would have thought he was God’s gift. Stan would call me at all hours of the night, and because I was twitter pated with this boy, I would drive 40 minutes to his house to watch a movie.  Stan was now fully aware that if he said “jump” I would simply ask “how high?”… anvil #2.

xxYour LIEfer

Now for the LIEf Ruiner

  When we were “created” (chose whatever theory you would like), we were made to erase extreme pain from our recollection… for instance, if women remembered how bad it hurt to squeeze a watermelon out of something the size of a lemon, we would never procreate. Good thinkin’ on the “mind-erasing” trick, just don’t take the red pill while inside the Matrix. With that being said, I’m assuming the pain associated with child-birth is comparable to that of a bad break-up. We seem to forget all of the horrible things about the relationship itself and focus strictly on the things we will no longer have without the “doucher.” Maybe just maybe if we really dig deep, we can realize that what we will no longer have isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There is always a reason something doesn’t work out… One year later, one would think being smacked around would get old. If being anvil’ed in the head over and over wasn’t enough for old Wiley Coyote, why would I quit and give that brush-dog all the glory?  My relationship with, well let’s just call him Stan, began with a set-up from my dear sister Johanna. What a brilliant, original idea, a relationship established in a bar… anvil #1.

Nothing in LIEf is Free...

Now, what is quite possibly my proudest accomplishment: Escaping a New York “audition” alive. You might ask yourself, why would a 22-year-old woman (at the time) go all the way to New York alone to audition in front of an Academy Award-winning director? I was obviously possessed by the same demon that possessed Emily Rose. Did I mention I don’t actually have any acting credits, unless acting classes when I was 12 at a studio that went tits-up, counts? This whole drowning experience began with an inviting ad from an online job-search site that should just throw roofalin at you the minute you press search... I think I'll just leave you hanging on this LIEf experience.

xx Your LIEfer

LIEf's Unaccomplished Accomplishments

“First generation college grad” is what my diploma should say, instead it currently reads “graduated with my BA in communications and I can drink my weight in Grey Goose.” My greatest accomplishment yet. This "official" document proving to the world I can handle four more years of school and only come away with the knowledge of movie quotes, rap verses and the year of a Ford Mustang based on the taillights should come in handy at some point.  The simple things in life that used to make me proud; burning my forearms on espresso-machine steam wands, selling adults clothes made for an infant, and cleaning up people’s sweat in a facility for lighted coffins. It’s marvelous; I belong right up there with the Surgeon General and all of “his” warnings. I must get my manipulative wit from my. "minor in political science." There is no other explanation really.  (PS. Why can't I EVER spell explanation? Stupid red squiggles save my LIEf on the daily.)

xx Your LIEfer

This LIEf Began at an Early Age.

From childhood to adolescence, we are all measured by how many friends we have... or by "the best of the best" section in the yearbook. I personally should have been measured by how many original nintendo games I had. On my journey to self discovery I chose my friends carefully. I only liked you if you could give me something-- what a concept in this LA LIEf... Too bad I lost that part of me. Anyways, as I was saying, I originally became friends with Reidy Mcdeedy because he chose to take my oldest sister to the circus. It was almost a competition between my sisters and I; who would Reid take? It was like a bachelor ceremony, I think he even showed up with flowers... he was 5. I soon realized that Reid came with perks; Barnum and Baily, Daisies, and he liked Wizards and Warriors too. Little did I know that Reid came as a tri-pod... Reid, Nils and Philip... No, "Hold on" did not come on over the loudspeaker whenever they were together (sigh). So I am sure by now, you may be realizing a trend... the only girls in Oso... The Pater girls, no choice but start our LIEf surrounded by guys.

xx Your LIEfer

Olympic Sized LIEf.

Growing up, I was the awkward turtle of four girls. I have two blonde bomb-shells for older sisters, and a younger sister who easily compares to an angel. Luckily I was a 15-year-old with multi-colored rubber bands on my braces and a chest so flat you couldn’t tell if I was coming or going. I quickly learned it was a benefit to no one except for maybe Chris Angel, Mind-Freak.  Along with my great sales accomplishments, I also possess the skill-set to impersonate washed-up comedians. It makes Poppop (my grandpa who paid my way through college) very proud. With that being said, my “I have flipped over on my back and now my arms and legs are flailing about” syndrome forced me to say things that didn’t make a lick of sense, while making the entire circle of people my mom strategically placed around me laugh… Now maybe I should reevaluate who was actually forced in that scenario. At least it was “free-entertainment” at only my expense. Shortly after the “comedy-hours” started around the house, I realized my wise-cracks were my ticket into the spotlight, or perhaps just the faint glow of a mini mag-lite... And my LIEf only gets wittier.

xxYour LIEfer

Water Wings

The term “sink or swim” pertains to nearly every situation we get ourselves into, but what does one do if they were never taught to swim. To keep my head above water, judging by the way this life is panning out so far, I prefer to keep my ‘water wings’ on.

Being from a town only the almanac has heard of, made growing up normal, without a kid or with all of your teeth, nearly impossible. In Arlington, Washington, It is basically customary to married, divorced and in a custody battle by the ripe-ol’-age of 19. Although my sisters and I all graduated from Arlington High School, we were among the lucky few who resided in Oso… yes, it means bear in Spanish. Oso resembles a town you would imagine Tom Sawyer grew up in. It is conveniently located 18 miles outside of Arlington towards Darrington. Being that Oso was so close to everything (insert sarcasm here), it was super easy to find things to do.

The “Oso kids” were probably the most creative kids you would ever come across. It was not easy to convince people to want to move 20 minutes away from civilization so If we had only thought ahead and made Arnold Swartzenager our spokesperson, we could have tricked people to “come live in beautiful Oso, Washington.”  As far as the other kids in the neighborhood, there were only so many quality, legit ones to choose from so It was easy for me to weed out the worthless children. If you didn’t have a bike with toggles on your spokes, POGS or rollerblades, you were no friend of mine.  As a little-tyke, my sisters and I were the only girls that lived in Oso, needless to say, the discovery that boys were our only option for companionship came at an early age. My next-door neighbor Glen was a shoo-in as best friend. He was my age, had a bowl cut, freakishly red lips was full of bad jokes. Most importantly, I was in no way attracted to him, which made life as a seven year old much easier.  Glen and I always managed to get away with “murder” in Oso, scary thing is we probably could have... Despite this being the awful truth, this is just where my LIEf began...
 xx Your LIEfer

My LIEf... Yes. LIEf.

Your confused, I can smell it. Despite my educational background, I still cannot spell... right? Wrong, phonetically it makes sense... add the 'f' to the ass end of lie, and you get what sounds like "life"... so here I am, living what I have created as a LIEf. My real name, well we don't need to go there... but I am most commonly known as Alex in these parts. I have lived up to such alter egos as: Ali, Roxanne and Veronica. Each have served a great purpose in this story I call LIEf. 
There are some tid-bits I could share, you know, the ones that sound like I'm a dreamer... The Taylor Swift type. How much I love the ocean, rainbows and horses with tinsel in their manes... nah. I have something better. I am going to bring you down... to my level. Shit, if anything, it will make you feel substantially better about your poor unfortunate soul. No, I am not going to shoot you full of rock salt or bury you alive, but bear with me, at times it might feel that way. 


LIEf as I know it, was so easy at home... sure, the family drama is never fun, always too heavy to hold. Everything else, was easy. School, no rent... being 5. Ah, those were the days. Think back, did you ever have a depressing moment... one where it wasn't because Patrick pinned you down and kissed you on the playground? Sure we all had grandparents pass away, and sadly, even some parents or other family members... but that feels like nothing compared to what we endure as adults. 


 

My first instinct as an adult, when something gets to hard, RUN. Run like hell. Well, now I live in Los Angeles. So my fellow smart-bloggers, I think its safe to assume, you know I ran from something... or someone. Survival of the fittest is what I like to think of it as... ohhh my lovely LIEf. The denial is putrid and stings, but the good news is, everyone in LA is full of shit. So putr
id as your denial may be, you fit right in.


Congratulations... you have now had an short introduction to my LIEf... lucky you... this is just the beginning. 


xx Your LIEfer