Your friend LP

It's been real! 2011 – 2016

Month: October, 2014

Honest with myself

A bit ago (I’m deliberately being vague here), I got an invitation for a get-together. My first response was to go, while simultaneously thinking “Well, I’ll better buy myself some water proof mascara, as I will most likely end up crying on the toilet or the bus ride home again, ha ha!” And then I realised what I was actually saying, and how it’s actually not funny at all.

My ability to laugh at myself and/or difficult and painful things in my life, has gotten me through a lot. My ability to act like I’m fiiine when I’m most definitely not and to “make it look easy for the people” has too. But when it comes to the whole “I go to a party and end up in the toilet, crying on the phone to my mom, then feel awful for two days afterwards”-thing, it’s time I start being honest with myself: I can’t deal with being around people who excessively drink and do drugs.

Although I myself don’t drink and don’t do drugs, I have always thought that I was fine going places where I was surrounded by other people who do. I chalked my feelings of stressed out nervousness up to my special snowflakedom and just told myself to get the f*ck over myself. I mean, people were being nice to me? They included me in their conversations and even confided in me by telling me all their romantic issues, life problems and even their drug dosages? Why then do I feel so upset to the point of crying and why do I feel so utterly, utterly detached from everything?

I realised that that is because I AM detached from the goings on. First, there’s the simple fact that when everybody does A Thing and you don’t, you’re the outsider. See also: being the only person at a party who doesn’t play World of Warcraft. Second: drugs and alcohol change people’s mental states and the way they interact, usually not in a positive way.

There’s the loss of boundaries: while I have never had the heart to be a dick to a seriously intoxicated person spilling their guts to me, I actually don’t want to know about a random stranger’s self-declared “complex romantic misery”, their “you REALLY need to talk to a professional”-level personal problems or how many grams of what drugs they are on and where they got them. I REALLY don’t want or need to know these things. I don’t. Telling them so doesn’t work either, because they are completely in their own world. So I get another iced tea and listen, while thinking: “Woman, you need to get the f*ck away from here”. Yes, I admit I’m not handling this well either.

And then there’s the drooly fake chummy emotions. A former housemate of mine, who is a recovering alcoholic, once called it “alcohol fueled empathy”. It’s the phenomenon where, after [foo] units of alcohol, people who at best hardly know me, start proclaiming how much they loooove me, say that I’m THE BEST EVER, find it necessary to tell me I’m going to do amazing things in the world because I’m so ~awesome~, assure me that we’re going to be Best Friends Forever, then, completely out of the blue, proceed to hug me and pat me on the head like I’m their pet or something, while not even remembering doing any of it the next day. Hell, they don’t even remember me. Explaining why all of this gets to me would take a book, so I’m not going to, but fact is that it gets to me. It really, really gets to me.

I know that the whole self-care thing is getting a lot of flak nowadays, mostly because some people use it as an excuse to be irresponsible, but I do believe it’s important. As a child raised on Oprah, I do believe that you need to take care of yourself first. Which is why I have decided that I’m staying away from parties, (university) drinks and other occasions where I know I’ll be the only sober one in a group of heavily intoxicated people. Although I am relieved that I don’t have to keep forcing myself to attend these types of functions, I am also curious-in-a-scared-way how it will work out for me, social/life/”networking” wise. To be continued at some point.


First 7 weeks are DONE!

With the first seven weeks of the new academic year over and done with and exam week coming up, it’s time for a recap. Despite not feeling too well in the last two weeks, I did manage to keep on track with everything, making this the first time EVER (well, except for when I did my summer session at Berkeley) that I am completely uhm, completely on track with everything. I have even started preparing for my exams next week and it would be really nice if I managed to pass this part of the class in one go, so I don’t get stuck with resits and things piling up on top of things and the misery that follows.

After this week, this class will continue with a different teacher, which kinda makes me nervous because I have no clue how that’s going to work out teaching style and course load wise, but there’s nothing I can do about it but see how things go. The teacher I had up to now is super effective efficient and I like his way of structuring things. Thankfully, he will be teaching the second class I’m taking this semester, so I sorta know what to expect.

Apart from that, not much news here. Both Clark and I sleep a lot and are slowly starting to feel better, so that’s a win. And in line with the whole debittering/”treat yo self” thing I’ve been on since the beginning of 2014, I’m going to watch myself some Monkees now. This is my favorite episode ever:


Both Clark and I have been under the weather for a couple of days now and we both feel as blurry as this picture is:

Clark blurry

Fear not, the strange bulbous thing on the left side of his face (and the right side of the picture) is just an artefact caused by him moving. And now on to some more pain killers (both), inhalers (me) and neti-potting (also just me).

Amsterdam Zine Jam 2014

Last Saturday, I attended the Amsterdam Zine Jam at the Felix Merits building here in Amsterdam. I was welcomed at the door by two lovely people who gave me a program, that featured a zine within a zine:


This seems to be a bit of a theme this year, as my zine has one and so did this one:

zine by steeb“All that we see or seem is but a zine within a zine” – Edgar Allan Poe

Since the building was very high and the staircase-depth thing was very deep, I decided to play it safe and take the elevator. I started off in the reading room, where there were zines hung on wires and swings you could sit on, to read said zines. While it looked great, I would have loved to also have a bunch of zines NOT hanging from the ceiling, especially the more elaborate text and/or comic ones, because it’s just not the most comfortable way to read a zine.

At the zine fest I went to in Paris, they had zines on strings, but also zines in a box that you could sit around with a small group and read. This also made random interaction with fellow zinefesters easier, something that I personally found hard to achieve at this fest. But I also do realise that this is Amsterdam, the Netherlands, where people will just randomly steal shit just because they can. I hereby volunteer as a librarian/zine guard for next year. Yes, I’m serious.

After the reading room, I went downstairs to check out the new zines. This room again had lots of zines on strings, but also a couple of zines attached to a sitting bench type thing. Or at least, I sat on it. No alarm went off and it didn’t break, so I assume it was okay?

In one of the other rooms, you could sit down and have somebody type up your story, which you could then use to make your own zine. It was a huge room, with one person typing and one person talking, and for (I assume) privacy reasons, you were not allowed in there. While understandable and very stylish, from a “how to organise this sh*t as efficient as possible”-perspective, it did feel a bit like an ineffective use of space, especially when looking at how packed the main room was: it had a bar, a fairly large collection of photography zines, a big table where you could work on your zines, a photo copier, a binding table, and all of the vendor stalls.

There was no sitting space except for at the (very busy) zine making table, I would have loved to have been able to sit down with a pile of the photography books and just look at them for an hour. Leafing through zines/books while standing always gives me the feeling that I’m at a book shop checking out what to potentially buy, not at a library enjoying the reading. The same goes for ordering a drink at the bar: I like to be able to sit with my drink, maybe even sit next to new people and exchange some convo, not awkwardly stand around with my cola in a corner all by myself.

Don’t get me wrong: it was really cool to see all the different kinds of zines people had sent in, and it was great to see a lot of people trying their hand at making zines, but it would have been nice to have a place to “rest”, read some zines, have a drink, have a convo with fellow (new) zinesters. Not that I think that a zine jam should be a full on ~networking opportunity~, but especially here in the Netherlands where there are not many zinesters, it would be nice to meet some likeminded people, if only for a short talk over a drink.

With the setup as it was now, it felt more like an exhibition. And, like at an exhibition, it’s kind of hard (and probably not even appreciated) to just walk up to a group of people (I was pretty much the only person who was by herself – Protip to others and to future me: bring somebody) and go “Hey! Do you also make zines?” So yeah, that part of the experience was a little disappointing to me.

Anyway, I did take lots of awesome pictures, which (with added captions of course, so make sure to check those out) can be seen here on Flickr.
Speaking of Flickr, I remember promising linking to the photos of the wooden letters, printing presses ‘n stuff. They can be found here: click!

LP Style zine!

Yes peeps, it has finally happened!

LP Style collageClick to embiggen!

I have finished the LP Style zine I began as a 24 Hour Zine Thing in 2012! It has grown into a 36 page, A5 story about the evolution of my style from kiddo (yes, there are toddler pictures of me in this zine!) to now, and how factors like my chronic illness, me being a foreigner and my non-conforming personality have influenced the way I look.

Because I am apparently unable to keep things short, there’s a zine-within-a-zine in the middle called “Story Time with LP”, where I write about getting my first tattoo and tell the story of why I always wear shorts. Trust me, this is a story you want to read!

The zine is available for 2 euros + shipping (NL: € 1.28, Europe + rest of the world: € 3.15) at my Etsy store, or by contacting me directly through LogPoes at gmail dot com. Trades are, as always, very welcome!

I already have 4 subscribers to my mailing list, and only one of them is my mom, so let’s keep a good thing going and subscribe if you want to be kept up to date on my zine activities!