So the other day I was looking up my first name on Google because I was bored and wanted to see what other “Alanas” were out there. I discovered a couple net porn stars, an elementary school teacher, and an amateur writer girl around my age.

After reading the writer girl’s blog I have officially decided that the schoolteacher is the sanest of all of us, followed by the singer. I probably come in a close third, though.

Anyway, what struck me about this girl, is that despite how thoroughly weird I think she is, we actually have a lot of stuff in common. Ok, make that one or two things. We both like to write, although I’d rather die that post my stuff anywhere, and her writing is much, much darker than mine, (better than mine too). Additionally, she also used to be pre-med, and had horrible conversations with her parents about the fact that she no longer was, which is once again, a lot like me. Also, she’s rather crude at times, but overall intelligent, which I like to think I am too.

So why am I listing my similarities to some unknown girl I don’t actually know and will probably never even have contact with in my entire life? Mostly so that if she ever stumbles upon my blog, she’ll know I respect her before she reads the part where I make fun of her.

Seriously though, I really do respect her, but now I feel like I have some kind of competition thing going on; somewhere deep down inside, I want to be better than this other Alana, (who coincidentally, probably pronounces her name “Uh-laa-nuh,” the more common way to say our name, as opposed to my “Uh-lay-nuh.” There’s a difference, I promise you.

Anyway, I think I found someone out there possibly even more fucked up than I am, and that’s bound to be good for the self esteem. I heard a comedian once say that you don’t have to like yourself. You just have to hate a lot of other people, and grade yourself on the curve. I kind of think self esteem works the same way; it’s a whole big relative scale. I don’t hate this girl, I don’t know her, and hating the people I do know takes up enough of my energy, but I do like being better than her. And since I’m the only one actively competing in my little “who’s the better Alana” contest, I know I’ll be sure to win.

Anyway, I thought I would include some excerpts from her blog so you all could see what I’m up against. Just so she doesn’t stumble upon this and sue the shit out of me, please know that NONE OF THE FOLLOWING BELONGS TO ME!!!! It all belongs to that other Alana, and can be found at her blog site www.noboys.org. Her fiction, which is copywrited, and which I’m NOT including here, can be found at www.benwaybunnies.com.

Ok, now that I’ve covered all of the legal bases, here is my favorite excerpt, from her January 14 blog:

“We saw Freaky Friday. I wanted to see it. Really. Just to see Jamie Lee Curtis' interpretation of a fifteen-year-old. And because I was livid with a particular review.

"Some middle-aged cunt neglected to say anything about the movie (not that it was spectacular, or I assumed it'd be) when REVIEWING it. All he talked about was her tits. Her fucking TITS. And how they were PERFECT BREASTS and how he used to MASTURBATE when thinking about them. And now she's old, and her tits are revolting, and she should retire from making movies.

“I read the 'review' and started shouting. I'm damn sure I threw it on the ground and tried tearing it up with my toes, pinned between my feet and floor. I spent the day stomping around wanting to throttle the fucking prick.

“Who the fuck is HE anyway? He's some fucking obese middle-aged reject, reviewing Disney movies for a newspaper, going on about how Jamie Lee Curtis should be fucking SHOT because HE THINKS she doesn't have the tits of a twenty year old anymore. All as if HE EVER HAD A FUCKING CHANCE TO EVEN TOUCH THEM.

“That, I think, sums up my vicious hatred for anything with opposable digits and a cock.

“The ability to sit around and project an air of (and BELIEVE IT) self-importance when accessing their sexual (or intellectual) prowess. That silent 'Dude, I could totally have her / have sex with her / make her interested in me if I wanted to...I'm just not interested' attitude that glimmers when ANYTHING that remotely resembles a fucking female passes by.

“TITS FALL, so there.

“You get old, have kids, and your tits fall. Some of us - those with cups that require double letters - never even had a chance to have PERFECT BREASTS. I entered eighth grade and graduated with 36DD.

“I didn't even have that year or two grace period where they pertly point towards the air. One day I went to bed, and the next day I woke up with a pair of cantaloupes. And you'll find if you attach the two melons to a somewhat flat surface - they don't defy gravity. They sink, baby, sink down to your fucking ANKLES.

“So. Right”

Meet my competition.