do we make judgements too quickly?
but do we feel inspired at the same tempo?
big thought for a small circumstance.
im coming home from a night of hard work (with good surplus!) and partial drinking. So after a vodka peppa and v8, i browse my new home's dvd collections. The only two i narrowed it down to were jay and silent bob's empire strikes back....or reality bites. she knows why i picked the latter. im thinking, especially based on projected points (or stories) that this is going to simply be a correspondence between you and i, sisterhead.
back to the thesis. its my sister. everyone has always said....wynona rider. i remember mermaids...with cher...who is mom, really. sexy but not cookie cutter model attirbutes, and with attitude...a cut or dry, this is the way it is...at least what ive experienced. and ethan hawk...(there is no secret handshake) blah stigma at this day and age but, meg, im sorry it took me so long to understand (but there is an IQ prerequisite).
based on the inspirations. if you own the dvd, as most dvds or vhs' you open with short credits. The first is...Field of Dreams. Enough said. My father used to spend his sunny days in the back yard by himself playing out all the positions to....well, what was his team? an all star team? maybe he can leave me a no\te. If he archived, he'd be the beginning of what we now call "fantasy baseball". Regardless, can i say, i've always liked to meet my granpa.
o and before i forget...dvd version....quatum leap. yes, available on dvd. hello???? im only cool because of my sister.
saturday august 27 2005 (sat early morning)
and you know what that means
first on my mind, i want to talk about
we're smart...we're able to get what we want...
most of the time.
what is love? attraction? infatuation?
i'm sorry, ive found the three to be in the same category.
i called steven after work because i called him before work to ask him about wireless internet. he answered like he does....and all i can think about is aftyn describing it as somekinda nonsense babble. damnit, i lost her exact phrasing, but i liked it and more importantly, i thought of it like that. she's brilliant, and at one point, attracted to his elusiveness....so what the fuck? why couldn't i have met and realized this 3 years ago...instead of noticing it now?
im different this year. I am weary of the first couple weeks....the excitement, the energy, the presumptuous goals for the year....so im trying not to set up the fall...but i still feel different. My head is so clear. and my roomates are amazing. and i have a job. and i dont have to worry about anything.
Stress is better than boredom, but i can't find anything better than stress that falls into the same responsibility way of life. Comfort? it seems too easy? Because i feel that...amy said today..."i can't believe that we've only lived here a week...feels like three months." I agreed....i was having the same thoughts wandering through the house today.
life has to be about the pain...at least for me. the good parts always come at the end, the comfortable parts always come the time before its over. its the regret question...yes, things could have been different, but i dont regret any of them. it does not wake me in the night, like an amputee feeling the phantom limb. Maybe its because i havent felt it before, it hasn't been a part of me. Or maybe we're always changing, maybe we're just the limb trying to find a body.
Paul in the kitchen says organization has always been my problem too. You just have to find a way to arrange yourself around the organization. DAMNIT DAMNIT three times again...like I always said, the best things can only be said once. Which is why, if you can't love yourself for anything else, just love the fact that you are the only one that heard it the first time
even if you dont remember it.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Theme of the Day: Shaq's acting and singing career?
i have major research to do for design ideas...for 116's new beer pong table, so these thoughts are going to be scattered and far less than profound.
a few things about friends first.
i'm so happy cuz today i found my friends
vanilla sky
probably thom yorke
why. why must some find friends as shallow play things? Superficial, ungracious, fake plastic friends. is it scar tissue? obnoxious feminists just really got stood up on prom night? the angry guitarist had an acne problem and got rejected by his true love in the third grade? i just wonder why. because friends, as people, are great.
i have comparison problems. i went to see steve and fish tonight. as soon as i walked through the door i felt it coming. Feelings of misplacement, inadequacy, stifled by awe of gods at work. They're only human, but they're really really good at being human...you know, really good with brains and thumbs.
There are some that challenge you and some that take care of you. I haven't had a female friend in awhile, at least not one i saw on an everyday basis and surely not four at the same time. I just have trouble figuring out why i find that the ones that challenge me are the ones that make me feel insecure and the ones that make me feel insecure are men. (Besides the obvious, damnit, that chick is so much hotter than me...which really isn't a challenge, but rather a simple statement of fact. opinion. ok fuck it, its just all whacked perspective) ANYWAY...does this teeter on the biological makeup conversation megs? Are we back there? Should we just accept? Appreciate the way a woman will care for anything that breathes and accept that we're looking for men to help bring us out of the dream we've been drowning in? I'm not talking about love, im talking about art.
To stop where i started, im thankful. I'm thankful that amy and neely and amanda and meredith are here everyday...to ask me how work was, to know my birthday, to just chat, simply, like the weather. i'm thankful that fish and steve and johnny are insanely intense and to use johnny's term of phrase...like disjunctive electronic music that stimulates parts of my brain that i dont get to use everyday. im revved up. thank you.
there are moments that pause when i think of all the things ive done, all the things i do, and all the things i will do. i feel a soft wash of pride. but i cannot help that i desire to be everything; to see everyone and and crave to do it too.
245 babies are born worldwide every 60 seconds
245x60min = 14,700 babies/hr
14,700x24hrs = 352,800 babies/day
352,800x365days = 128,772,000 babies/year
that's a lot of fucking inspiration
i did the same multistep last night with the money i might make.
perhaps this is the difference between inspiration and self-deprecation.
but
pain art life
lovely.
a few things about friends first.
i'm so happy cuz today i found my friends
vanilla sky
probably thom yorke
why. why must some find friends as shallow play things? Superficial, ungracious, fake plastic friends. is it scar tissue? obnoxious feminists just really got stood up on prom night? the angry guitarist had an acne problem and got rejected by his true love in the third grade? i just wonder why. because friends, as people, are great.
i have comparison problems. i went to see steve and fish tonight. as soon as i walked through the door i felt it coming. Feelings of misplacement, inadequacy, stifled by awe of gods at work. They're only human, but they're really really good at being human...you know, really good with brains and thumbs.
There are some that challenge you and some that take care of you. I haven't had a female friend in awhile, at least not one i saw on an everyday basis and surely not four at the same time. I just have trouble figuring out why i find that the ones that challenge me are the ones that make me feel insecure and the ones that make me feel insecure are men. (Besides the obvious, damnit, that chick is so much hotter than me...which really isn't a challenge, but rather a simple statement of fact. opinion. ok fuck it, its just all whacked perspective) ANYWAY...does this teeter on the biological makeup conversation megs? Are we back there? Should we just accept? Appreciate the way a woman will care for anything that breathes and accept that we're looking for men to help bring us out of the dream we've been drowning in? I'm not talking about love, im talking about art.
To stop where i started, im thankful. I'm thankful that amy and neely and amanda and meredith are here everyday...to ask me how work was, to know my birthday, to just chat, simply, like the weather. i'm thankful that fish and steve and johnny are insanely intense and to use johnny's term of phrase...like disjunctive electronic music that stimulates parts of my brain that i dont get to use everyday. im revved up. thank you.
there are moments that pause when i think of all the things ive done, all the things i do, and all the things i will do. i feel a soft wash of pride. but i cannot help that i desire to be everything; to see everyone and and crave to do it too.
245 babies are born worldwide every 60 seconds
245x60min = 14,700 babies/hr
14,700x24hrs = 352,800 babies/day
352,800x365days = 128,772,000 babies/year
that's a lot of fucking inspiration
i did the same multistep last night with the money i might make.
perhaps this is the difference between inspiration and self-deprecation.
but
pain art life
lovely.
Monday, August 22, 2005
OXTURD, oHIo
i'm pretty good with words,
ive decided.
what im not good with is words
and alcohol.
we did these leg stretches in yoga (the ones where you lie on your back and use a long belt to pull pain out of the air and into your body) and when you put your stretched leg back down next to the unstretched one, it feels, by comparison, that leg has lost its container. It feels as though it has oozed out of the curvy calf baking pan and is now floating freely with the universe like an orange robe on a monk in the mountain breeze. What all this means, is that my mouth, in its entirety, finds this sensation when im drinking. But the experience is less than peaceful.
Philosophical theory speak should not enter into my conversation when my mouthparts are not working because philosophical theory speak should not ever enter into my conversation. There is a small elephant inside my head these days that asks, "why? what exactly are you learning here? more importantly, what the hell are you talking about? shut up. just shut up, ok? you wonder why people keep away from you at social gatherings? you're strange. i mean, im purple, but you're just fucked."
and its true.
because i'm pretty good with words,
but not while im drinking.
ive decided.
what im not good with is words
and alcohol.
we did these leg stretches in yoga (the ones where you lie on your back and use a long belt to pull pain out of the air and into your body) and when you put your stretched leg back down next to the unstretched one, it feels, by comparison, that leg has lost its container. It feels as though it has oozed out of the curvy calf baking pan and is now floating freely with the universe like an orange robe on a monk in the mountain breeze. What all this means, is that my mouth, in its entirety, finds this sensation when im drinking. But the experience is less than peaceful.
Philosophical theory speak should not enter into my conversation when my mouthparts are not working because philosophical theory speak should not ever enter into my conversation. There is a small elephant inside my head these days that asks, "why? what exactly are you learning here? more importantly, what the hell are you talking about? shut up. just shut up, ok? you wonder why people keep away from you at social gatherings? you're strange. i mean, im purple, but you're just fucked."
and its true.
because i'm pretty good with words,
but not while im drinking.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
one more true tale from the heart
18 sucks, really.
i mean sure, its the next big step and everythings all exciting. For most of you, you just graduated from high school but that just means you have to go and reestablish your popularity in a place much bigger and far more elite than public high school.
You get to vote, but seems the world keeps giving birth to more and more assholes and they also get to vote and they vote for fellow assholes. There's a mirror in front of you and one behind and you're standing next to an asshole, but there's only one of you and an infinite number of assholes. It's really disheartening.
Speaking of hearts, by law you get to kill yourself with smoking, but you've already been doing that for 1,2, 12 years already, so the only cool thing about that is your attitude when you get to walk into a gas station without your hands shaking.
Then there's the gyno.
A woman is at risk of cervical cancer if she:
has sex before the age of 18
has multiple sex partners or has sex with promiscuous partners
history of a STD
smokes
well hell, 3 out of 4 aint bad.
I'm an open person, but i dont really feel a NEED to discuss some personal matters. So I'm writing this for a reason and if you're reading it and it applies, ill kill you myself if you dont listen.
I never went to the gyno or had a pap smear when i turned 18. Nor did i have one when i was 19 or 20, nor did i have any intentions of having one when i turned 21. But one day, earlier in the summer i decided, hell, i should do this. I'd never before felt so adult...mostly because i keep failing to recognize that i am one.
My doctor called me back. She said there were some "abnormal" cells in the results. Of course they're abnormal, they're mine. So i was referred to a gyno and i went today. He told me that they're at a precancerous stage and that based on the result of the next test they will either be monitored by pap tests taken every three months or i'd have to have surgery to remove parts of my little infected cervix.
No, i'm not going to die, i'm not even going to get sick. Yes, i can still have children if, god forbid, my estrogen finally kicks in and i want them. But my point is, GO. GO PLEASE. I'll go with you. I'll make crude jokes in the lobby and probably use the plastic vagina model as a puppet. You'll never say Aunt Flow again without bursting into laughter. I'm just thinking how lucky i am that i finally decided to go and that i wasn't served up a big plate of hate your fate life in the end. Cervical cancer is asymptomatic remember, so the only persistent nagging you'll have will come from me.
love you women
i mean sure, its the next big step and everythings all exciting. For most of you, you just graduated from high school but that just means you have to go and reestablish your popularity in a place much bigger and far more elite than public high school.
You get to vote, but seems the world keeps giving birth to more and more assholes and they also get to vote and they vote for fellow assholes. There's a mirror in front of you and one behind and you're standing next to an asshole, but there's only one of you and an infinite number of assholes. It's really disheartening.
Speaking of hearts, by law you get to kill yourself with smoking, but you've already been doing that for 1,2, 12 years already, so the only cool thing about that is your attitude when you get to walk into a gas station without your hands shaking.
Then there's the gyno.
A woman is at risk of cervical cancer if she:
has sex before the age of 18
has multiple sex partners or has sex with promiscuous partners
history of a STD
smokes
well hell, 3 out of 4 aint bad.
I'm an open person, but i dont really feel a NEED to discuss some personal matters. So I'm writing this for a reason and if you're reading it and it applies, ill kill you myself if you dont listen.
I never went to the gyno or had a pap smear when i turned 18. Nor did i have one when i was 19 or 20, nor did i have any intentions of having one when i turned 21. But one day, earlier in the summer i decided, hell, i should do this. I'd never before felt so adult...mostly because i keep failing to recognize that i am one.
My doctor called me back. She said there were some "abnormal" cells in the results. Of course they're abnormal, they're mine. So i was referred to a gyno and i went today. He told me that they're at a precancerous stage and that based on the result of the next test they will either be monitored by pap tests taken every three months or i'd have to have surgery to remove parts of my little infected cervix.
No, i'm not going to die, i'm not even going to get sick. Yes, i can still have children if, god forbid, my estrogen finally kicks in and i want them. But my point is, GO. GO PLEASE. I'll go with you. I'll make crude jokes in the lobby and probably use the plastic vagina model as a puppet. You'll never say Aunt Flow again without bursting into laughter. I'm just thinking how lucky i am that i finally decided to go and that i wasn't served up a big plate of hate your fate life in the end. Cervical cancer is asymptomatic remember, so the only persistent nagging you'll have will come from me.
love you women
Monday, August 08, 2005
giddy bitty baby betty
i had a good weekend.
i would like to ignore the alcohol part of this happy equation. I'd like to believe that this is a karma thing rather than a chemical thing.
sarah smurf came to camp on friday, our last day.
The girls cried. Not because of sarah, but because it was our last day. I remembered Camp Luther when Christy and i cried the whole way home. I still have the bandana Ace gave me. Such a safe place. I love camp.
So we cleaned after it was all over and I found Tippy understands my strange finger sensitivities. if i get dirt under my fingernails, i freak out. My skin turns white right into a straight jacket and i try to bust the fuck out. Then, you know the shiveryness you get when someone scrapes their fingernails across a chalk board? I feel that in my two front teeth.
anyway, no one understood this before i met Tippy. this made me happy.
i left camp and got home and made yummy caprese salad and a lemon ginger martini with that succulent grey goose and i noticed that they spell grey with an e and so do i and no one else in the world does, so once again, i found a friend in common. When i was relaxing outside with my first smoke of the week (from a pack that i found in one of my boxes from oxy) and i marveled at how incredibly sexy smoke is and what a shame tis that its so damn bad for you. Then i thought, sarah should call me and what do you know my phone rings and i believe i have telepathic powers and that i really and truly am a special creature.
After i tell sarah that i'll drive and twice after i stop and go What did i just say? and catorce after a red stripe (which is from jamaica, did you know that? I didn't know that) and some shots of tequila, i get ready and, yes ill just say it, i look so cute cute. Ok, maybe im not a special creature. Anyway I pick sarah up and she says, amp tell me stories, which is a line i use on absolutely everyone so im a little taken aback. I haven't seen sarah in a year plus, so like perfect and normal my brain floods and empties itself all at the same time. It's quite the paradoxical genius, my brain. So i say i dont have any and i insist that she tell me stories instead, which she does...for a long time. They're the kind of stories where names are used with such a casualness that you become very preoccupied that these people are acquaintances of your own and you have now become the most hideous person because you have misplaced them in your social repertoire. I convince myself that no one is capable of following this conversation and no, you're not supposed to remember that same guy from 12 years ago that you never once in your life met. Then i begin to wonder if i am ever really listening to anyone when they talk to me, and i feel incredibly guilty about this but i swear its not my fault, i can't help it...and all the while sarah is still talking.
So we go to McDuffy's on 111th and Pulaski. I like the place, even if its a little trashy. I am a snob. I really am. I begin to think about Miami and i begin to irrationally compare it to state schools and this bar and how i really fucked up such a good place. For being such an analyst, im a really shallow little shit. Anyway, Sarah's friend liz comes and the girl is ridiculously gorgeous. She's got this square petit face and this skin that you'd love to make your bed sheets out of. She has a perfect mouth and these gorgeous teeth that held her Marlboro menthol 100s and i really loved her for that. And she was funny. Not witty funny, but you know, cute girl funny. God, it really does work like that doesn't it. So i was starting to be less bored. That was nice.
Anyway, we got to dancing. Not this girl and i, but everyone. I sang red neck woman for my father and then we stopped dancing. Sarah found the rest of her guy friends and she did her own little dance around them. When we were sitting earlier, she said we should play 20 questions. It's the most efficient way to get to know someone. I liked this idea. She asked me what my most embarrassing moment was and i quickly decided that i didn't like this game anymore. but i answered her anyway. I briefly told her about how i was going to make my debut in the manipulative business world when i joined a pyramid scheme by giving away my mother's credit card number. SPECIAL CREATURE. I couldn't seem to find any good questions so i decided on what her biggest regret was. She said she wished she wasn't so naive with men. This made sense after i got her "briefing" on all the men she's been with in the past 20 years. My point is im looking at her now, flirting with all these guys and i wonder if this is the thing for her that she can't help, that its not her fault.
How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one. But the lightbulb has to really WANT the change.
I said i had a good weekend, I dont think I'm getting that across. For the next two hours i danced. I sweated my face off. I broke my necklace I was bumpin so hard. WHY? Because they played:
Toca's Miracle by Fragma
and a bunch of other really bad 90s eurodance music from my zombie nation convertible way too much anorexia and pot days and knew all the words and i was the happiest kitty in the place. I also quite enjoyed doing body rolls to Pour Some Sugar on Me which is terrible and they ended the night with James' laid and that was great. So i decided im still a kid with way too much energy. Its decidedly so that im gonna have to start using it again. I haven't had that much fun in awhile.
when i got home at 230, dad still wasn't home and that made me laugh. then i pulled out all my cds that have been at school for the summer and put in Talkie Walkie, which i listened to on repeat while in Australia. So im mildly drunk, freshly showered, my head filled with pictures of the southern night sky through the mesh of my mozzie dome and im deliriously bloody fucking giddy.
i woke up at 7, went to work, cleaned, killed a mouse with a rock, said farewell and came home again. Then i laid out in the sun all day and read harry potter, took a nap. when i woke up dad was gone again so i put the chambord the grey goose and some vanilla on the counter and realized again what a snob i am and how those two bottles put together could buy food to feed a small family for a month. Inspired by the energy of last night i searched and found! my DJ Micro mix cd and blasted the shit out of that for an hour. i gave myself a crap'e french manicure, found my green pants which were also at school for the summer and put those green pants baby blue and red all together in my favorite fashion color combination of all time. I decided i looked even cuter than i did the previous night so i went to David Delach's for his farewell party but before i did i went once again to my boxed treasures from oxy and found my "hang in there bear" from mom to give to Dave because i love him but im a terrible friend because i haven't talked to him in months. When i arrived to my surprise i found mr DS and cj and while we were running around dave's house looking for things to put up our noses i took a big happy deep breath to remember how much god damn fun i had with these fools in high school. And that was so because they're smart snobs, just like me.
I got drunk and attempted to tell puder we're going on an expedition to nevada to witness burning man. I talked to Johnson for a long time and convinced him to smoke and show me his new house. Coulda been the array of shit that was working its way through my system but the castle tripped me out. Massive. Gorgeous. Too many bathrooms. I read some very interesting newspaper articles written 12 years ago on monday april 12th (thats my birthday). I of course found this to be absolutely mind blowing. Then there was too much shit in my head so i had to get up and do something. I proceeded to pull an audrey hepburn down the front stairs, in the kitchen, dining room. Pointed toes and everything. ballerina moves in the dark, everyone sleeping. I figured since it was the johnson's that there were security cameras taping this. i did not care. if you have seen this house, you understand its power, especially for a wanna be theater queen. I finally left, had a very very long and paranoid drive home. But it was 5ish and the sky was turning that faded morning blue and the orange looked dusty and it was beautiful and i wondered when steven was getting home. Nick Drake put me to sleep. I was filled.
Dad and i went to Ruffled Feathers to play golf with dale on sunday. Well, i didn't play, i just drove the cart around and drank vodka lemonades. I love golf. I think its the most hilarious thing in the world. It's something about the golf carts, the way they drive - like little wind up toys. And the degree of comparison between all those acres of land and that little tiny ball that old men in their silly outfits keep running after. It's more than entertaining to see the focus in the approach, the time that passes before the ball is struck, or rather "chunked" then the resistance to throw the one of 1200 clubs these kids carry around against a tree. And the etiquette. I LOVE golf etiquette. And the terminology. Fabulous! 90 degree cart rules and slopes and doglegs and bump and run and hey dann, want me to mark it? Dad and i decided we'd develop should make 12 hole courses. The game takes 5 fucking hours to play. 5 hours. Thats redonkulous. But like i said, i just drove the cart around and drank vodka lemonades.
Dad and i went to McDonalds for dinner. I thought that was funny. And it was 11 dollars. That just seems wrong. So then, despite our russian floridian buzz and sun lethargy, we drove to LaGrange to see...Mr Blotto! Dad and i have been talking about doing this forever. It was nice that it finally got done. Plus, LaGrange is cute. Plus i was supposedly mad at him for awhile, so this was our lets hang out and be friends again ok? day. all is well with the world.
SO THEN, we get home and im still thirsty so i drink aussie cab and talk to jodo for the first time in forever and that makes me wonderously happy because jodo always has good things to talk about. And then i chat with Cat for the first time in forever and that makes me wondrously happy too. and then kellen comes online which is so rare and we chat and i discover that he has also sent me another e-mail and that is awesome because he letters are fantastic. AND THEN while im pissing on the pot my phone rings, which is also rare, and good heavens its my sweet peached stello calling to tell me he's home from xinprovenceois but all i remember from that conversation is me saying something how he's still the same and nothings changed and he gasps and retorts nothings changed?? Aparently, air franc'e does something to you. oui oui.
so thennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn i got sufjan stevens in my plugs and i light the tiki torch next to my hammock outside and the northern sky and i treat myself to a ciggy binge and im just, well drunk, but since this is a story about karma and not chemicals, im very very happy.
i would like to ignore the alcohol part of this happy equation. I'd like to believe that this is a karma thing rather than a chemical thing.
sarah smurf came to camp on friday, our last day.
The girls cried. Not because of sarah, but because it was our last day. I remembered Camp Luther when Christy and i cried the whole way home. I still have the bandana Ace gave me. Such a safe place. I love camp.
So we cleaned after it was all over and I found Tippy understands my strange finger sensitivities. if i get dirt under my fingernails, i freak out. My skin turns white right into a straight jacket and i try to bust the fuck out. Then, you know the shiveryness you get when someone scrapes their fingernails across a chalk board? I feel that in my two front teeth.
anyway, no one understood this before i met Tippy. this made me happy.
i left camp and got home and made yummy caprese salad and a lemon ginger martini with that succulent grey goose and i noticed that they spell grey with an e and so do i and no one else in the world does, so once again, i found a friend in common. When i was relaxing outside with my first smoke of the week (from a pack that i found in one of my boxes from oxy) and i marveled at how incredibly sexy smoke is and what a shame tis that its so damn bad for you. Then i thought, sarah should call me and what do you know my phone rings and i believe i have telepathic powers and that i really and truly am a special creature.
After i tell sarah that i'll drive and twice after i stop and go What did i just say? and catorce after a red stripe (which is from jamaica, did you know that? I didn't know that) and some shots of tequila, i get ready and, yes ill just say it, i look so cute cute. Ok, maybe im not a special creature. Anyway I pick sarah up and she says, amp tell me stories, which is a line i use on absolutely everyone so im a little taken aback. I haven't seen sarah in a year plus, so like perfect and normal my brain floods and empties itself all at the same time. It's quite the paradoxical genius, my brain. So i say i dont have any and i insist that she tell me stories instead, which she does...for a long time. They're the kind of stories where names are used with such a casualness that you become very preoccupied that these people are acquaintances of your own and you have now become the most hideous person because you have misplaced them in your social repertoire. I convince myself that no one is capable of following this conversation and no, you're not supposed to remember that same guy from 12 years ago that you never once in your life met. Then i begin to wonder if i am ever really listening to anyone when they talk to me, and i feel incredibly guilty about this but i swear its not my fault, i can't help it...and all the while sarah is still talking.
So we go to McDuffy's on 111th and Pulaski. I like the place, even if its a little trashy. I am a snob. I really am. I begin to think about Miami and i begin to irrationally compare it to state schools and this bar and how i really fucked up such a good place. For being such an analyst, im a really shallow little shit. Anyway, Sarah's friend liz comes and the girl is ridiculously gorgeous. She's got this square petit face and this skin that you'd love to make your bed sheets out of. She has a perfect mouth and these gorgeous teeth that held her Marlboro menthol 100s and i really loved her for that. And she was funny. Not witty funny, but you know, cute girl funny. God, it really does work like that doesn't it. So i was starting to be less bored. That was nice.
Anyway, we got to dancing. Not this girl and i, but everyone. I sang red neck woman for my father and then we stopped dancing. Sarah found the rest of her guy friends and she did her own little dance around them. When we were sitting earlier, she said we should play 20 questions. It's the most efficient way to get to know someone. I liked this idea. She asked me what my most embarrassing moment was and i quickly decided that i didn't like this game anymore. but i answered her anyway. I briefly told her about how i was going to make my debut in the manipulative business world when i joined a pyramid scheme by giving away my mother's credit card number. SPECIAL CREATURE. I couldn't seem to find any good questions so i decided on what her biggest regret was. She said she wished she wasn't so naive with men. This made sense after i got her "briefing" on all the men she's been with in the past 20 years. My point is im looking at her now, flirting with all these guys and i wonder if this is the thing for her that she can't help, that its not her fault.
How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one. But the lightbulb has to really WANT the change.
I said i had a good weekend, I dont think I'm getting that across. For the next two hours i danced. I sweated my face off. I broke my necklace I was bumpin so hard. WHY? Because they played:
Toca's Miracle by Fragma
and a bunch of other really bad 90s eurodance music from my zombie nation convertible way too much anorexia and pot days and knew all the words and i was the happiest kitty in the place. I also quite enjoyed doing body rolls to Pour Some Sugar on Me which is terrible and they ended the night with James' laid and that was great. So i decided im still a kid with way too much energy. Its decidedly so that im gonna have to start using it again. I haven't had that much fun in awhile.
when i got home at 230, dad still wasn't home and that made me laugh. then i pulled out all my cds that have been at school for the summer and put in Talkie Walkie, which i listened to on repeat while in Australia. So im mildly drunk, freshly showered, my head filled with pictures of the southern night sky through the mesh of my mozzie dome and im deliriously bloody fucking giddy.
i woke up at 7, went to work, cleaned, killed a mouse with a rock, said farewell and came home again. Then i laid out in the sun all day and read harry potter, took a nap. when i woke up dad was gone again so i put the chambord the grey goose and some vanilla on the counter and realized again what a snob i am and how those two bottles put together could buy food to feed a small family for a month. Inspired by the energy of last night i searched and found! my DJ Micro mix cd and blasted the shit out of that for an hour. i gave myself a crap'e french manicure, found my green pants which were also at school for the summer and put those green pants baby blue and red all together in my favorite fashion color combination of all time. I decided i looked even cuter than i did the previous night so i went to David Delach's for his farewell party but before i did i went once again to my boxed treasures from oxy and found my "hang in there bear" from mom to give to Dave because i love him but im a terrible friend because i haven't talked to him in months. When i arrived to my surprise i found mr DS and cj and while we were running around dave's house looking for things to put up our noses i took a big happy deep breath to remember how much god damn fun i had with these fools in high school. And that was so because they're smart snobs, just like me.
I got drunk and attempted to tell puder we're going on an expedition to nevada to witness burning man. I talked to Johnson for a long time and convinced him to smoke and show me his new house. Coulda been the array of shit that was working its way through my system but the castle tripped me out. Massive. Gorgeous. Too many bathrooms. I read some very interesting newspaper articles written 12 years ago on monday april 12th (thats my birthday). I of course found this to be absolutely mind blowing. Then there was too much shit in my head so i had to get up and do something. I proceeded to pull an audrey hepburn down the front stairs, in the kitchen, dining room. Pointed toes and everything. ballerina moves in the dark, everyone sleeping. I figured since it was the johnson's that there were security cameras taping this. i did not care. if you have seen this house, you understand its power, especially for a wanna be theater queen. I finally left, had a very very long and paranoid drive home. But it was 5ish and the sky was turning that faded morning blue and the orange looked dusty and it was beautiful and i wondered when steven was getting home. Nick Drake put me to sleep. I was filled.
Dad and i went to Ruffled Feathers to play golf with dale on sunday. Well, i didn't play, i just drove the cart around and drank vodka lemonades. I love golf. I think its the most hilarious thing in the world. It's something about the golf carts, the way they drive - like little wind up toys. And the degree of comparison between all those acres of land and that little tiny ball that old men in their silly outfits keep running after. It's more than entertaining to see the focus in the approach, the time that passes before the ball is struck, or rather "chunked" then the resistance to throw the one of 1200 clubs these kids carry around against a tree. And the etiquette. I LOVE golf etiquette. And the terminology. Fabulous! 90 degree cart rules and slopes and doglegs and bump and run and hey dann, want me to mark it? Dad and i decided we'd develop should make 12 hole courses. The game takes 5 fucking hours to play. 5 hours. Thats redonkulous. But like i said, i just drove the cart around and drank vodka lemonades.
Dad and i went to McDonalds for dinner. I thought that was funny. And it was 11 dollars. That just seems wrong. So then, despite our russian floridian buzz and sun lethargy, we drove to LaGrange to see...Mr Blotto! Dad and i have been talking about doing this forever. It was nice that it finally got done. Plus, LaGrange is cute. Plus i was supposedly mad at him for awhile, so this was our lets hang out and be friends again ok? day. all is well with the world.
SO THEN, we get home and im still thirsty so i drink aussie cab and talk to jodo for the first time in forever and that makes me wonderously happy because jodo always has good things to talk about. And then i chat with Cat for the first time in forever and that makes me wondrously happy too. and then kellen comes online which is so rare and we chat and i discover that he has also sent me another e-mail and that is awesome because he letters are fantastic. AND THEN while im pissing on the pot my phone rings, which is also rare, and good heavens its my sweet peached stello calling to tell me he's home from xinprovenceois but all i remember from that conversation is me saying something how he's still the same and nothings changed and he gasps and retorts nothings changed?? Aparently, air franc'e does something to you. oui oui.
so thennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn i got sufjan stevens in my plugs and i light the tiki torch next to my hammock outside and the northern sky and i treat myself to a ciggy binge and im just, well drunk, but since this is a story about karma and not chemicals, im very very happy.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
o oxygen
thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love
ewan mcgregor
paul simon
nick drake
this is my fantasy lullaby bed.
ewan mcgregor
paul simon
nick drake
this is my fantasy lullaby bed.
Monday, July 25, 2005
i like mail
i like stars because they are beyond humanity. arguably,
most things in this world have been touched/influenced/
whatever by humans. stars are
different. we can interpret
(astrology, whatever) but we do not
know. that dot shining could be completely something
else. id like to go there,
but i never will. id like to be more, but i never will. i like looking
at them because they are and we cant really
say why. sure, solar system et all,
galaxies and all that, but
really that light is coming from somewhere and
i (we) really cant say where/if it matters at all.
i am not going to
discover anything.
am not going to
break parallels. every time i look up
(when it is clear) i am humbled, and every time i
look around it is less clear.
when i look up, my life is wasted. when i look around, i accept.
nature of things/human nature, i guess, but
i want to feel like it could be something more or
can be something else. dreaming in color is nice, but
seeing in pieces is good. fill in the blank,
id like to know more.
kKoala, KW
Writen information can't teach. You can't question it. It can't defend itself when people misunderstand or misrepresent it. Written communication gives people "the false conceit of knowledge," a fake certainty that they understand something.
Chuck Palahniuk/Thamus
most things in this world have been touched/influenced/
whatever by humans. stars are
different. we can interpret
(astrology, whatever) but we do not
know. that dot shining could be completely something
else. id like to go there,
but i never will. id like to be more, but i never will. i like looking
at them because they are and we cant really
say why. sure, solar system et all,
galaxies and all that, but
really that light is coming from somewhere and
i (we) really cant say where/if it matters at all.
i am not going to
discover anything.
am not going to
break parallels. every time i look up
(when it is clear) i am humbled, and every time i
look around it is less clear.
when i look up, my life is wasted. when i look around, i accept.
nature of things/human nature, i guess, but
i want to feel like it could be something more or
can be something else. dreaming in color is nice, but
seeing in pieces is good. fill in the blank,
id like to know more.
kKoala, KW
Writen information can't teach. You can't question it. It can't defend itself when people misunderstand or misrepresent it. Written communication gives people "the false conceit of knowledge," a fake certainty that they understand something.
Chuck Palahniuk/Thamus
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
truth has a peanuty smell
sometimes, kids challenge you.
Most of the time, they're pretty straightforward. They ask for what they want. They tell you EXACTLY what they think. They teach you some moves from last friday's breakdancing class or demand your attention towards the new cheer they learned. Life, through a child's existence, is pretty simple.
but sometimes, pretty simple challenges you.
you're trying to explain kindness and respect to an eight year old. They're understanding the concept, they've made their apologies. the dramatized shit storm that just occured has passed. Then the sun comes out and they blind you by saying, "but i just dont want to be friends with her. Can you tell her that i just dont want to be friends with her?"
people are not supposed to all like each other. that's why we have innate interests. its creations way of cultural organization. i for one, do not like every make and model of person in the world. I dont like intellectuals. I don't much care for businessmen. I dont like girls that wear platform foam sandals. I rather not be arround arrogant folk, country music singers, people that complain too much, leeches. I imagine myself sitting at a picnic table, preferebly in pigtails and smoking a cookie jar cigarette trying to share the markers with my new "friends", trying to believe how important it is to make as many friends as possible here at camp. Use me, abuse me. Would you care for a light? Yes, yes i will thank you. Then there would be the leech.
"dont worry, taylor is just like this sometime. I'm sure you'll be friends by the time tomorrow comes around. Try to find someone else to play with today."
stall. the reject tries to make friends with taylor's replacement aquaintence and thus (thunder lightning strike) that bizzare love triangle. New Order. Ha.
Then there is Miss Miranda. There are some girls at camp that are slightly...off. Some are more obvious. Miranda may quietly hit some stages, among other things, pretty hard. She hit me pretty hard with this one.
She does not want to sit on the edge of the bench today, she did yesterday. The pairs of pretties at her table are asking her to move so they can sit next to each other. Twos against one...LeBon would argue that the twos are gonna win out. They do, no theory required. Miranda drops her shoulders and moves to the end of another green plastic picnic bench.
These things are never about sitting spots, or who did and who did not get the prize, or who did and who did not get the lime green water bottle. These are starting points on a psychologists wet dream. A child with honesty so blunt they could knock out a robber. Pre-genius and lacking deflection skills. A problem with a promising solution. Sometimes.
I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do! Tears. Everyone always tells me what to do. My friends at home always tell me what to do, they make my Barbie do all the bad things and i dont want to do it.
(forshadow, shit. Prepare questions.)
do you tell them that you would like to do something different?
They dont listen.
do you tell them that it bothers you?
They don't care.
Why do you play with them if they're not nice to you?
They're all i have. Tears Tears Tears.
(stop. draw blank.)
They're all i have. I want to erase her mind and put it back nice and spakling fresh. You're not supposed to know that yet Miranda. You're not supposed to know that you get thrown on a block or at a bus stop or in a school and what you get is whats there. Pick the apples with the least worms in them, the ones that have only one or two brown spots. Or worse yet, try to never think of yourself as the one in the dirt, under the farmstand table, half eaten by a robin; shriveled and wasted. I realilze that i know nothing about this child. The only thing i do know is that she asks too many goddamn questions, she complains and doesn't listen and I often find her dancing by herself on the porch of Ranch House. I look at all the other girls; they're laughing, singing sponge bob songs, playing with each others hair. The quiet ones look like oil painted portriats; even they have found each other. I look at Miranda. Would i be your friend?
See all the girls in our unit? You can be friends with any of them. How about you try sitting at that table where the girls will treat you better and not make you do things. You can be friends with anyone you want. I'm sorry that your friends at home treat you that way. You can be friends with anyone you want. How does that sound?
Nod.
Can i do anything else to make you feel better?
(everything that i'm worth has turned to dust and is now falling out of my mouth in the form of this ridiculous question)
Shrug.
Ok. Give me a hug.
Hug.
Miranda finishes lunch in two minutes; plays with her lanyard string alone on the front porch of Ranch House.
Part of me feels she's better off that way.
Most of the time, they're pretty straightforward. They ask for what they want. They tell you EXACTLY what they think. They teach you some moves from last friday's breakdancing class or demand your attention towards the new cheer they learned. Life, through a child's existence, is pretty simple.
but sometimes, pretty simple challenges you.
you're trying to explain kindness and respect to an eight year old. They're understanding the concept, they've made their apologies. the dramatized shit storm that just occured has passed. Then the sun comes out and they blind you by saying, "but i just dont want to be friends with her. Can you tell her that i just dont want to be friends with her?"
people are not supposed to all like each other. that's why we have innate interests. its creations way of cultural organization. i for one, do not like every make and model of person in the world. I dont like intellectuals. I don't much care for businessmen. I dont like girls that wear platform foam sandals. I rather not be arround arrogant folk, country music singers, people that complain too much, leeches. I imagine myself sitting at a picnic table, preferebly in pigtails and smoking a cookie jar cigarette trying to share the markers with my new "friends", trying to believe how important it is to make as many friends as possible here at camp. Use me, abuse me. Would you care for a light? Yes, yes i will thank you. Then there would be the leech.
"dont worry, taylor is just like this sometime. I'm sure you'll be friends by the time tomorrow comes around. Try to find someone else to play with today."
stall. the reject tries to make friends with taylor's replacement aquaintence and thus (thunder lightning strike) that bizzare love triangle. New Order. Ha.
Then there is Miss Miranda. There are some girls at camp that are slightly...off. Some are more obvious. Miranda may quietly hit some stages, among other things, pretty hard. She hit me pretty hard with this one.
She does not want to sit on the edge of the bench today, she did yesterday. The pairs of pretties at her table are asking her to move so they can sit next to each other. Twos against one...LeBon would argue that the twos are gonna win out. They do, no theory required. Miranda drops her shoulders and moves to the end of another green plastic picnic bench.
These things are never about sitting spots, or who did and who did not get the prize, or who did and who did not get the lime green water bottle. These are starting points on a psychologists wet dream. A child with honesty so blunt they could knock out a robber. Pre-genius and lacking deflection skills. A problem with a promising solution. Sometimes.
I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do! Tears. Everyone always tells me what to do. My friends at home always tell me what to do, they make my Barbie do all the bad things and i dont want to do it.
(forshadow, shit. Prepare questions.)
do you tell them that you would like to do something different?
They dont listen.
do you tell them that it bothers you?
They don't care.
Why do you play with them if they're not nice to you?
They're all i have. Tears Tears Tears.
(stop. draw blank.)
They're all i have. I want to erase her mind and put it back nice and spakling fresh. You're not supposed to know that yet Miranda. You're not supposed to know that you get thrown on a block or at a bus stop or in a school and what you get is whats there. Pick the apples with the least worms in them, the ones that have only one or two brown spots. Or worse yet, try to never think of yourself as the one in the dirt, under the farmstand table, half eaten by a robin; shriveled and wasted. I realilze that i know nothing about this child. The only thing i do know is that she asks too many goddamn questions, she complains and doesn't listen and I often find her dancing by herself on the porch of Ranch House. I look at all the other girls; they're laughing, singing sponge bob songs, playing with each others hair. The quiet ones look like oil painted portriats; even they have found each other. I look at Miranda. Would i be your friend?
See all the girls in our unit? You can be friends with any of them. How about you try sitting at that table where the girls will treat you better and not make you do things. You can be friends with anyone you want. I'm sorry that your friends at home treat you that way. You can be friends with anyone you want. How does that sound?
Nod.
Can i do anything else to make you feel better?
(everything that i'm worth has turned to dust and is now falling out of my mouth in the form of this ridiculous question)
Shrug.
Ok. Give me a hug.
Hug.
Miranda finishes lunch in two minutes; plays with her lanyard string alone on the front porch of Ranch House.
Part of me feels she's better off that way.
Monday, July 11, 2005
hello, this is swap and shop...
who was that woman?
that woman i just saw while walking out of the restaurant. She was sitting at a table by the door - glasses, a hat - like lois lane. She looked at me like she knew me and i said hello because i thought i recognized her, but i couldn't remember her name, so i just kept going out the door.
Now i can't even remember how i know her. I know i know her. I used to know her. Somehow she was very important to me; she helped me out in a time of trouble. She used to roll her eyes...id say something dumb and she'd roll her eyes and get me something i needed even though she didn't have to.
Maybe she works in the library, or the county recorders office, or at the newspaper. I think i may have been in love with her. No, she's too young, i was never in love with her, not in that way. It's just that i wanted something, needed something, and she was able to give it to me almost out of the goodness of her heart and now i can't even remember who she is. I'm sick. I'm old. I should just walk out into traffic and kill myself.
At home, at night, i go to sleep searching for the lost memory. Did i meet her down by the river in a canoe? or was it on a ferry in southeastern Alaska? or at the foreign correspondence club in Phnom Penh along the Mekong. She has something to do with water, with life, with mud.
I sleep poorly; turning and maybe even groaning in anguish. I do not care about the woman anymore, i am worried for myself. I feel as though there is a black hole in my brain and slowly, but surely its swallowing all the memories of my life.
I get up at 5:30 in the morning and drive to work in the dark. I feel terrible. I look like a piece of gum in the gutter. I pull into Java Joes to get some chemical help and there she is, behind the drive up window. I want to tell her i love her, but i don't because it would be too weird. All i can say is "wow" and she rolls her eyes and gets me my cup of coffee.
Scott Carrier
that woman i just saw while walking out of the restaurant. She was sitting at a table by the door - glasses, a hat - like lois lane. She looked at me like she knew me and i said hello because i thought i recognized her, but i couldn't remember her name, so i just kept going out the door.
Now i can't even remember how i know her. I know i know her. I used to know her. Somehow she was very important to me; she helped me out in a time of trouble. She used to roll her eyes...id say something dumb and she'd roll her eyes and get me something i needed even though she didn't have to.
Maybe she works in the library, or the county recorders office, or at the newspaper. I think i may have been in love with her. No, she's too young, i was never in love with her, not in that way. It's just that i wanted something, needed something, and she was able to give it to me almost out of the goodness of her heart and now i can't even remember who she is. I'm sick. I'm old. I should just walk out into traffic and kill myself.
At home, at night, i go to sleep searching for the lost memory. Did i meet her down by the river in a canoe? or was it on a ferry in southeastern Alaska? or at the foreign correspondence club in Phnom Penh along the Mekong. She has something to do with water, with life, with mud.
I sleep poorly; turning and maybe even groaning in anguish. I do not care about the woman anymore, i am worried for myself. I feel as though there is a black hole in my brain and slowly, but surely its swallowing all the memories of my life.
I get up at 5:30 in the morning and drive to work in the dark. I feel terrible. I look like a piece of gum in the gutter. I pull into Java Joes to get some chemical help and there she is, behind the drive up window. I want to tell her i love her, but i don't because it would be too weird. All i can say is "wow" and she rolls her eyes and gets me my cup of coffee.
Scott Carrier
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
like
robin egg blue and red
coffee and cigarettes
Patrick Marber's "Peter Shelley" and Eels' "Susan's House"
i dont remember and i don't spark quick
but this (to me) i do.
coffee and cigarettes
Patrick Marber's "Peter Shelley" and Eels' "Susan's House"
i dont remember and i don't spark quick
but this (to me) i do.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
O my, crazy bitch
It's summer sweetheart, lose the black mascara.
Yes that's right. time for new fingernail polish in yellows and pinks. time for legs and 97.1 and sitting watching the fire burn. to keep warm of course. to sit next to pretty and snuggle. smoochies.
parents are in california getting swept away by mass landslides. didn't notice. took into account napa valley and thought the grapes were just that good. were.
like licking toads.
because there's a come down down right? Yes, that's right. I've got 20s that aren't mine and propellerheads in the cadillac. and its loud. i turn it down at red lights. because yes, there is a comedown.
after the addiction.
nice clothes nice schools nice friends with pools and dogs nice vacations nice cars nice phones nice computers nice cookware nice house nice liquor nice shoes nice manicures nice bagged lettuce nice produce nice rings nice fountain pens nice drugs.
nice toads.
i know these things. its easy to clean up if you have money. i like these things? its easy if you have money. i'm trying not to.
what do you want?
calves and hip bones. a clothing line. to play the piano and sing. to cook. to animate and videotape. to ride and lead and laugh and show people how. to get my head to follow my hands. to write about it the way it is. to let it be.
to act?
pressure in the shell of all the dreams too big.
to love.
pish posh impossible. nothing is still something and it's impossible.
rubber ball with a neon foxtail and a big grassy field next to water.
swing it around (((((big circles big circles))))) with ideas ideas ideas
one big fast blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
let it fly. where does it go. doesn't matter. theres one ball and theres one tail and when it lands it bounces back.
go fetch.
i want a cobblestone path and a brick archway out of the twister.
the sky is thick grey and the trees are bright like cutouts of something explosive against grey thick is the key.
there is no sound.
laugh
Yes that's right. time for new fingernail polish in yellows and pinks. time for legs and 97.1 and sitting watching the fire burn. to keep warm of course. to sit next to pretty and snuggle. smoochies.
parents are in california getting swept away by mass landslides. didn't notice. took into account napa valley and thought the grapes were just that good. were.
like licking toads.
because there's a come down down right? Yes, that's right. I've got 20s that aren't mine and propellerheads in the cadillac. and its loud. i turn it down at red lights. because yes, there is a comedown.
after the addiction.
nice clothes nice schools nice friends with pools and dogs nice vacations nice cars nice phones nice computers nice cookware nice house nice liquor nice shoes nice manicures nice bagged lettuce nice produce nice rings nice fountain pens nice drugs.
nice toads.
i know these things. its easy to clean up if you have money. i like these things? its easy if you have money. i'm trying not to.
what do you want?
calves and hip bones. a clothing line. to play the piano and sing. to cook. to animate and videotape. to ride and lead and laugh and show people how. to get my head to follow my hands. to write about it the way it is. to let it be.
to act?
pressure in the shell of all the dreams too big.
to love.
pish posh impossible. nothing is still something and it's impossible.
rubber ball with a neon foxtail and a big grassy field next to water.
swing it around (((((big circles big circles))))) with ideas ideas ideas
one big fast blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
let it fly. where does it go. doesn't matter. theres one ball and theres one tail and when it lands it bounces back.
go fetch.
i want a cobblestone path and a brick archway out of the twister.
the sky is thick grey and the trees are bright like cutouts of something explosive against grey thick is the key.
there is no sound.
laugh
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
look around, what did you expect?
Daddy bought me this. Daddy bought me all of this. 29 days ago daddy bought me a new laptop, and I have 1 day left to buy office.
Kinda think that’s funny.
Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in an office. Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in his office, selling printing to people he understands, but misunderstanding things they buy. What do we buy. Do we buy words?
This is Microsoft (auto-wordily capitalized…amazingly, think about it) word. I keep typing off (and the automatice button prompts Office 2004 Test Drive User)
Yup, that’s right.
Automafice. Sounds right to me. This is why creativing writing majors don’t read over their work (think about it)
And this is why I do not ever want to have one of these things under my fingers again.
Megan,
If youre reading. You deserve this, for all these reasons. Ive found a few, grammar few, who I can rely on. When I start walking, or riding (im working on this one , thislife.org, episode, #111…funny you should search that site “adventures”) well my plan is to give this to you. You deserve it more than I do. You deserve well, the fucking world…black and blue, pink and white. I love you. What an amazing story you would make, thinking of me, walking/riding the world in your words. Oh wait, ive heard it. Good god, im so thankful you write.
Speaking of giving all you’re soul holds…
I thought, coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
I thought about that when I came clean to my bad ass high school grad colleage at UDF, whom I told, please do not go to college if you do not know what the fuck you are doing….
Well he’s going to be a business major and he’s a pretty boy, searching for a Miami apartment, so lets let the stereotypes abound until they call, then they cry, then they crawl back to you…
How about one more speaking of..
I thought coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
Wanna know why?
I love my family. I love my family so much. I love my family so much to let them know that I hate them. Yea that’s right. 2 of 3 of you have access to reading this and this is what I think.
I think we’ve been too nice for too long.
The Katrate Kid came out when I was born. So did 1984. The book, George Orwell? Well fuck if I read it, but dad, c’mon, you know about big brother???
So the same strange shit has been going on since the day I popped out (which, let me remind you, is the same womb you and I came from, meg…and the woman who owns it, well, I’ve been a little distant from. Imagine that beauty)
Well, Mr. Miyagi,
You taught me life is a journey, not a destination.
Sometimes I wish you knew your destination so I could know mine.
http://www.fast-rewind.com/kkid/
http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=oxford,+OH+karate&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8
http://www.mymiami.muohio.edu/news_events.php
http://www.google.com/u/muohio?site=search&hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=miami+equestrian&btnG=Search
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
(just because this does not work, feel the bullshit…on fiberoptic communication…2x the unreal, so real…………………..something so fake. Resumes are obsolete. Look at what education has gotten you)
To whom it may concern:
I am a miami student looking for training in horse care and basic riding skills. I've had prior experience with horses, but the experience was through a family friend, very informal and quite some time ago. I'm looking for a stronger experience in attempts to obtain possible jobs at various ranches in colorado or montana. I will not be a full time student next semester so i cannot simply take an equestrian class through miami. I'm looking to do all stable jobs in return for time around the horses. Free employment! If you can help me, or give me any further unformation, i would be so greatful.
Thanks very much,
Meredith Lobsinger
…(rephrased)….
To the obsolete that has placed this add:
I’m a fuck up in your prestigious piece of garbage school passionately wanting a way out to live my life the simple way it should be. However, because of marketing manure that this country has put in to place, I am being a piece of shit (the same shit from a horses ass that I am willing to pick up for free, so you will see at the end of my well written proposal that will never be responded to) … o shit again, it looks like I have made my point. Well, how about a story that no one carse about. Well, I used to be small and free and stupid and thus brilliant, and I had a family who knew someone else who had a farm. Funny how the simple things like names slowly fade away.
Well beyond the cats in the hayloft and feeling the duty of shucking corn for dinner without having to be told, I remember taking a walk on a horse, not in the stable, or the ring off the left of the barn, I remember you all sitting there, and I think it was amy there walking me on a white horse, and well, get on your bootstraps, the horse shook its mane and nehed. Yea neh. Shook its mane, and I was on its back being walked around, and I think you all laughed, but I wanted to make it canter without amy behind me.
Funny how the things that hold so close, Mr. Miyagi are things we haven’t lost hold of at all.
Kinda think that’s funny.
Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in an office. Kinda think its funny to see my daddy in his office, selling printing to people he understands, but misunderstanding things they buy. What do we buy. Do we buy words?
This is Microsoft (auto-wordily capitalized…amazingly, think about it) word. I keep typing off (and the automatice button prompts Office 2004 Test Drive User)
Yup, that’s right.
Automafice. Sounds right to me. This is why creativing writing majors don’t read over their work (think about it)
And this is why I do not ever want to have one of these things under my fingers again.
Megan,
If youre reading. You deserve this, for all these reasons. Ive found a few, grammar few, who I can rely on. When I start walking, or riding (im working on this one , thislife.org, episode, #111…funny you should search that site “adventures”) well my plan is to give this to you. You deserve it more than I do. You deserve well, the fucking world…black and blue, pink and white. I love you. What an amazing story you would make, thinking of me, walking/riding the world in your words. Oh wait, ive heard it. Good god, im so thankful you write.
Speaking of giving all you’re soul holds…
I thought, coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
I thought about that when I came clean to my bad ass high school grad colleage at UDF, whom I told, please do not go to college if you do not know what the fuck you are doing….
Well he’s going to be a business major and he’s a pretty boy, searching for a Miami apartment, so lets let the stereotypes abound until they call, then they cry, then they crawl back to you…
How about one more speaking of..
I thought coming home, maybe after awhile, wouldn’t be so bad right?
Wanna know why?
I love my family. I love my family so much. I love my family so much to let them know that I hate them. Yea that’s right. 2 of 3 of you have access to reading this and this is what I think.
I think we’ve been too nice for too long.
The Katrate Kid came out when I was born. So did 1984. The book, George Orwell? Well fuck if I read it, but dad, c’mon, you know about big brother???
So the same strange shit has been going on since the day I popped out (which, let me remind you, is the same womb you and I came from, meg…and the woman who owns it, well, I’ve been a little distant from. Imagine that beauty)
Well, Mr. Miyagi,
You taught me life is a journey, not a destination.
Sometimes I wish you knew your destination so I could know mine.
http://www.fast-rewind.com/kkid/
http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=oxford,+OH+karate&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8
http://www.mymiami.muohio.edu/news_events.php
http://www.google.com/u/muohio?site=search&hl=en&lr=&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=miami+equestrian&btnG=Search
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
http://www.admin.muohio.edu/apps/miamijobs/jobsOnLine/positonDetail.cfm?positionNumber=2172
(just because this does not work, feel the bullshit…on fiberoptic communication…2x the unreal, so real…………………..something so fake. Resumes are obsolete. Look at what education has gotten you)
To whom it may concern:
I am a miami student looking for training in horse care and basic riding skills. I've had prior experience with horses, but the experience was through a family friend, very informal and quite some time ago. I'm looking for a stronger experience in attempts to obtain possible jobs at various ranches in colorado or montana. I will not be a full time student next semester so i cannot simply take an equestrian class through miami. I'm looking to do all stable jobs in return for time around the horses. Free employment! If you can help me, or give me any further unformation, i would be so greatful.
Thanks very much,
Meredith Lobsinger
…(rephrased)….
To the obsolete that has placed this add:
I’m a fuck up in your prestigious piece of garbage school passionately wanting a way out to live my life the simple way it should be. However, because of marketing manure that this country has put in to place, I am being a piece of shit (the same shit from a horses ass that I am willing to pick up for free, so you will see at the end of my well written proposal that will never be responded to) … o shit again, it looks like I have made my point. Well, how about a story that no one carse about. Well, I used to be small and free and stupid and thus brilliant, and I had a family who knew someone else who had a farm. Funny how the simple things like names slowly fade away.
Well beyond the cats in the hayloft and feeling the duty of shucking corn for dinner without having to be told, I remember taking a walk on a horse, not in the stable, or the ring off the left of the barn, I remember you all sitting there, and I think it was amy there walking me on a white horse, and well, get on your bootstraps, the horse shook its mane and nehed. Yea neh. Shook its mane, and I was on its back being walked around, and I think you all laughed, but I wanted to make it canter without amy behind me.
Funny how the things that hold so close, Mr. Miyagi are things we haven’t lost hold of at all.
Monday, April 25, 2005
go ahead, pick ten cards
any ten cards
...
You're not happy.
You're good at pretending that everything in your life is good and you give off a great sense of security and self confidence, but you're not satisfied.
You dont know yourself well. You're restless, unsettled. You're a great pretender.
You like to give the impression that you're happy to be by yourself but in reality, you're mortified that your relationships failed and you believe that its your fault that they failed
and it may be so.
Regret in that area has caused you a great deal of pain.
You dont have many lifelong friends. The friends you have you made while you were with someone else and you weren't close to them; they were mostly your lover's or your other friends friends.
Some of them wanted to be close to you, but they thought you were inaccessible or that you were aloof.
You're very secretive.
And you dont trust easily.
And when you do let someone in, you regret it or resent them.
I think that you feel sooner or later everyone is a disappointment.
You can be assertive and hands on, especially in a crisis, but i think you live in constant fear of tragedy.
You're very very afraid of change.
You've met a man? That you're very taken with?
Maybe you're even obsessed with him.
But i dont think he's affectionate. And he's not someone that you can get to know intimately and you should be careful about misunderstandings because you have a tendency to become quickly infatuated and then you get embarrassed or depressed because things didn't turn out the way you expected them to.
You're a daydreamer.
And you should be careful because you definitely have a tendency to set yourself up for falls.
...
you should let me know if we're moving in the right direction. its possible that we could take a wrong turn and get lost,
especially since its our first time.
...
You're not happy.
You're good at pretending that everything in your life is good and you give off a great sense of security and self confidence, but you're not satisfied.
You dont know yourself well. You're restless, unsettled. You're a great pretender.
You like to give the impression that you're happy to be by yourself but in reality, you're mortified that your relationships failed and you believe that its your fault that they failed
and it may be so.
Regret in that area has caused you a great deal of pain.
You dont have many lifelong friends. The friends you have you made while you were with someone else and you weren't close to them; they were mostly your lover's or your other friends friends.
Some of them wanted to be close to you, but they thought you were inaccessible or that you were aloof.
You're very secretive.
And you dont trust easily.
And when you do let someone in, you regret it or resent them.
I think that you feel sooner or later everyone is a disappointment.
You can be assertive and hands on, especially in a crisis, but i think you live in constant fear of tragedy.
You're very very afraid of change.
You've met a man? That you're very taken with?
Maybe you're even obsessed with him.
But i dont think he's affectionate. And he's not someone that you can get to know intimately and you should be careful about misunderstandings because you have a tendency to become quickly infatuated and then you get embarrassed or depressed because things didn't turn out the way you expected them to.
You're a daydreamer.
And you should be careful because you definitely have a tendency to set yourself up for falls.
...
you should let me know if we're moving in the right direction. its possible that we could take a wrong turn and get lost,
especially since its our first time.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
ahhhhhhhaaaaaaaa
i want to kill the suede dress
shes worked here for years
wanted to paint my face
in the usual mirror
of some early morning
green and fuscia
with no body around
to tell the wrong
ah ha
but i believe in spring
i believe in spring babe
something out of death
bright colors of the death
killing witch
well thats an act of kindness
ask if she knows
the now blossoms in springtime
with something fruity fresh
ask her if she knows the now
in springtime.
shes worked here for years
wanted to paint my face
in the usual mirror
of some early morning
green and fuscia
with no body around
to tell the wrong
ah ha
but i believe in spring
i believe in spring babe
something out of death
bright colors of the death
killing witch
well thats an act of kindness
ask if she knows
the now blossoms in springtime
with something fruity fresh
ask her if she knows the now
in springtime.
Friday, April 08, 2005
bleep.
This is.
Strange
Have you ever seen yourself through the eyes of someone else that you have become?
And looked at yourself through the eyes of the ultimate observer?
Have you ever thought about what thoughts are made of?
is everyone a mystery?
Is everyone an enigma?
They most certainly are.
Be in the mystery.
Its time to get wise.
Why do I like the man that sits behind the fireplace?
So who sees then?
Does the brain see?
Or do the eyes see?
(why does the brain posses a plural possessive whule the eyes, just becase they are two posses a singular?)
is reaiity what we’re seeing with our brain
or is reality what we’re seeing with our eyes?
Brain does not know the difference between what it sees
And what it remembers
Because the same neuronets are then firing
So then
What is reality?
Processing
Processing
Bubbling up to conciousness
4 billion a second
but we are only aware of
2 thousand of those
but the awareness is about
2 thousand of those
are about
our body our environment about time
receiving without integrating it
eyes always
but the brain cannot take it in
the camera is seeing a lot more than it is
because
it has no objection and no judgment
do our eyes see more than what our brain has the conscious ability to object?
Strange
Have you ever seen yourself through the eyes of someone else that you have become?
And looked at yourself through the eyes of the ultimate observer?
Have you ever thought about what thoughts are made of?
is everyone a mystery?
Is everyone an enigma?
They most certainly are.
Be in the mystery.
Its time to get wise.
Why do I like the man that sits behind the fireplace?
So who sees then?
Does the brain see?
Or do the eyes see?
(why does the brain posses a plural possessive whule the eyes, just becase they are two posses a singular?)
is reaiity what we’re seeing with our brain
or is reality what we’re seeing with our eyes?
Brain does not know the difference between what it sees
And what it remembers
Because the same neuronets are then firing
So then
What is reality?
Processing
Processing
Bubbling up to conciousness
4 billion a second
but we are only aware of
2 thousand of those
but the awareness is about
2 thousand of those
are about
our body our environment about time
receiving without integrating it
eyes always
but the brain cannot take it in
the camera is seeing a lot more than it is
because
it has no objection and no judgment
do our eyes see more than what our brain has the conscious ability to object?
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
and then the ones that let you vomit
You were thinking that I would leave you out of this?
After tonight?
Too many rooms to fill that I cant remember
Too many memories when nothing else maters
Even kid rock?
C’mon
We’re talking about god here
Unless we’re not actually talking.
Unless talking doesn’t mean anything
until it echoes through the empty
rooms (full of potential) where
we would be, if time and space
were different. At least
we know. At least we can
prevent what’s to come. We’ve got
batman
o shit
that’s so
French
Casement
Ice storm
70 degrees getting around freezing by nighttime
this is what you’ve been telling me to watch
the cold front
holding the density of the warmth
this is you.
Everything that comes after is
Nothing obscure
It means
The way you look at
The way you look at slipcovers forever
It’s the way I look
Under you.
Everyone is busy putting
in an appearance.
We know how to feel
no pain, but we don’t
know how to absorb it
with sourdough
bread, with chocolate,
with mineral water.
Do we think we can make loose
beams and a red brick fireplace
into something substantial?
Honey, it’s just us. We’re
In charge. We have
To knead the bread
Ourselves. We have to
Take care
Before I feel really bad about my life
I want to remember that I said
Get out of the car
That I said
I know who you are
That I said
Take a walk through this
Fireplace
That nothing could replace
Your room
of what I remember of your face
In that room
And now I sound like lenny kravitiz
But I mean more than trying to rhyme
But you mean more than trying to rhyme
When you’re trying that hard.
The karma sign
Think about Field of Dreams
And about Jane’s
Next big alcoholic break
Sleep my love
Till beaches sleep.
After tonight?
Too many rooms to fill that I cant remember
Too many memories when nothing else maters
Even kid rock?
C’mon
We’re talking about god here
Unless we’re not actually talking.
Unless talking doesn’t mean anything
until it echoes through the empty
rooms (full of potential) where
we would be, if time and space
were different. At least
we know. At least we can
prevent what’s to come. We’ve got
batman
o shit
that’s so
French
Casement
Ice storm
70 degrees getting around freezing by nighttime
this is what you’ve been telling me to watch
the cold front
holding the density of the warmth
this is you.
Everything that comes after is
Nothing obscure
It means
The way you look at
The way you look at slipcovers forever
It’s the way I look
Under you.
Everyone is busy putting
in an appearance.
We know how to feel
no pain, but we don’t
know how to absorb it
with sourdough
bread, with chocolate,
with mineral water.
Do we think we can make loose
beams and a red brick fireplace
into something substantial?
Honey, it’s just us. We’re
In charge. We have
To knead the bread
Ourselves. We have to
Take care
Before I feel really bad about my life
I want to remember that I said
Get out of the car
That I said
I know who you are
That I said
Take a walk through this
Fireplace
That nothing could replace
Your room
of what I remember of your face
In that room
And now I sound like lenny kravitiz
But I mean more than trying to rhyme
But you mean more than trying to rhyme
When you’re trying that hard.
The karma sign
Think about Field of Dreams
And about Jane’s
Next big alcoholic break
Sleep my love
Till beaches sleep.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
o la
i keep checking this thing hoping that there will be something new and exciting, but i forget that im the one that has to write something.
so its beautiful outside and thats awesome.
god i cant wait for this semester to be over.
so its beautiful outside and thats awesome.
god i cant wait for this semester to be over.
Friday, March 04, 2005
its just more of that he said she said
He said:
kind of friends?!
take that back, you dont mean that, take that back.
she said:
he said:
you know me better than anyone. you've seen everything.
she said:
(what does he know about me?)
but she would have to say that to make it count.
and that would be selfish.
1)say you're sorry 100 times a day.
2)tell yourself you're the only one you can rely on.
3)realize that the world owes you nothing.
4)remind yourself not a soul is contracted to do, be, or say anything for you.
5)dont let your mouth go about your problems, no one cares.
6)remain objective when listening to refrain from caring too much.
7)please do not cry in public.
8)stay still in order to not draw any attention to yourself.
9)isolate all feelings until they become fragmented and spastic.
10)scream.
kind of friends?!
take that back, you dont mean that, take that back.
she said:
he said:
you know me better than anyone. you've seen everything.
she said:
(what does he know about me?)
but she would have to say that to make it count.
and that would be selfish.
1)say you're sorry 100 times a day.
2)tell yourself you're the only one you can rely on.
3)realize that the world owes you nothing.
4)remind yourself not a soul is contracted to do, be, or say anything for you.
5)dont let your mouth go about your problems, no one cares.
6)remain objective when listening to refrain from caring too much.
7)please do not cry in public.
8)stay still in order to not draw any attention to yourself.
9)isolate all feelings until they become fragmented and spastic.
10)scream.
to the skin
i just figured out why i do this
ive been trying to write a story about you megan
and its not the best but you're whats on my mind
so i hope, eventhough after so long there has been nothing
but bad e-mails and depseration and love
because you're the only one that checks
i hope you check again.
the world is big, but there are only so many people you really think about.
if i am history now
I'm listening to Paul Simon
like a young girl hooked on an american icon
(something like televsion and magazines)
an eigth of a beer left
(if you cant come up with that disjuction)
to leave me in my own
no more fat boy cause he cant go slim without an addiction.
slip sliding away
come back now to the piece of you that you cant remember
slip sliding away
if i cant remember what am i sliding from
slip sliding away
towards
you know the nearer your destination
the more you slip slidin away
i wish the voice was so smooth to explain
these are the very words she uses to describe her life
dolores, slip slidin away
my love for you is so overpowering that im afraid i might dissapear
a good day aint got no reign
a bad day
is when i lay in bed and think of things that might have been
never been a parent.
from what i know, i dont know what that feels like.
then theres god and life
the voice can make someone calm
for four minutes and 43 seconds
then you're on your own
ive been trying to write a story about you megan
and its not the best but you're whats on my mind
so i hope, eventhough after so long there has been nothing
but bad e-mails and depseration and love
because you're the only one that checks
i hope you check again.
the world is big, but there are only so many people you really think about.
if i am history now
I'm listening to Paul Simon
like a young girl hooked on an american icon
(something like televsion and magazines)
an eigth of a beer left
(if you cant come up with that disjuction)
to leave me in my own
no more fat boy cause he cant go slim without an addiction.
slip sliding away
come back now to the piece of you that you cant remember
slip sliding away
if i cant remember what am i sliding from
slip sliding away
towards
you know the nearer your destination
the more you slip slidin away
i wish the voice was so smooth to explain
these are the very words she uses to describe her life
dolores, slip slidin away
my love for you is so overpowering that im afraid i might dissapear
a good day aint got no reign
a bad day
is when i lay in bed and think of things that might have been
never been a parent.
from what i know, i dont know what that feels like.
then theres god and life
the voice can make someone calm
for four minutes and 43 seconds
then you're on your own
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