She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white.

Portions for Foxes

2010-10-26T05:25:00.000-07:00

Been up since four.
Should be finishing this assignment, but it's raining outside, and I just want coffee, and for my headphone jack to work.

I'm wondering if I'm making the right choice with this.
I'm only 21.
And at first when we talked about kids, about moving in together, about waking up in each other's arms for the rest of our lives, I felt overwhelmingly complete.

But then I wonder...
How long is this girl here to stay? The understanding and kind one, who gets up early to make coffee, who hides her irritation at the long absences, and is content with the fact that she's sharing a bed with a woman she's known for a year and drifting away from the life of a college student?
How long until the party girl returns?
Or the girl who just wants to flirt?
And the worst part is: I love her. And I never believed in this kind of love until her. And when I wake in the night crying she holds me. And when I turn into a monster she smiles and says "you're cute when you pout. now let me help". She's mine.
And after I think it's too soon, I can't do this, she can't handle me, I think about someone else's lips on hers. Someone else's hand in hers. Someone else fucking her. Someone else loving her better than me.
And I curl up next to her, kiss her forehead, her eyelids, her temples, her palms, and remind myself that nothing is final, that she knew me when she decided to love me, and even though I can't sleep a night without crying, this is the happiest I've ever been.

I've just spent my entire life knowing I'm not the kind of girl to be someone's wife.
Please, Please, PLEASE let her prove me wrong about this, too.

2009-12-29T14:54:00.000-08:00

Some crap I've been writing and don't want to lose:

Let's pretend, for a moment, that I am what you're looking for. You could say it, think it true, and you could be right. But I am not the girl that men marry. I'm the girl that shows them abandon, and comfort. I can say just exactly what they want to hear, every time, spotless. I'll kiss and cook and quote until they find their center, locate what was lost, and go searching for what is still missing. I'm not the girl men marry. I'm the girl they think of as they sit down to coffee and the paper after mediocre morning sex on their fifth wedding anniversary. They think about my waist, my wildness, my willful certainty.
I don't want to be that girl anymore. I'm tired of being the perfect substitute. I'll do it. I've got that endearing energy, that sensual softness. I actually listen.
And before, that was enough. I didn't want connection, commitment. I didn't want to be KNOWN. But I'm older now. My miscalculations look like mistakes from here. And not the kind that lie quiet and benign. So how can I ask? How can I ask for more? No one shops for things that are already broken. And I know we all are. I know, I know.
But I wish it wasn't always like this. Men fall in love with my personality from afar. Boys fall in love with my body as it wraps around theirs. And in neither case do they ever see or know or understand. It takes a lifetime for that. And that's an endeavor that even I wouldn't request right now.
I know it takes time. I'm not really worried. Just wistful. Thoughtful. Hopeful.

There are no more "right words". No faces or colors or sounds or voices to give them name. I'm getting lost in them.
I hurt in places I can't point to.
I'm sad in ways I can't describe.
My body doesn't fit in my skin, not that its too big or too small--
It just doesn't sit like it should.
I know if I tried to escape, I'd have to run in, not out, look back, not forward. But I'm tired of looking back. I'm tired of analyzing, of holding on.
I'm so tired I can't sleep. I'm so jumpy I can't walk, so shaky I can't write,
I'm so lost, I know exactly where I am.

I wrote this a million years ago. Interesting how nothing changes, huh? :

You spend your entire life, all your time on other peoples issues, the other guys’ shit, because it is in no way connected to you(how safe), and then one day you wake up and realize that ALL their shit is YOURS, you are just exactly like them, except for now they’ve fixed their shit and you’re left with her zip-up hoodie, some pictures, a receipt, and this lumpy ache that changes places depending on how you sit but never really goes away. How is that fair?
You spend all your time trying not to get attached, thinking about their choices instead of their freckles, their problems instead of the way they play air drums when they listen to music. You spend all your time trying to make it easy for them to move on and forget about you because now they’re happy. Now they’re healthy and they can do whatever and go wherever and you taught them how to do that in style. You buy them baby clothes for the child that will replace you, you teach them to deal, so they don’t Need to talk through everything, you prep them and arm them and then watch them go, and watch them let go, and you’re still untangling your fingers from their shoelaces and trying to hold that safe, happy, coffee and perfume and spices and books and soap smell somewhere safe where you won’t forget where you put it.
Except for at the end of it you realize that you taught them what you already know, that you’ll always survive, you’ll always be ok, you’ll deal and handle, and you’ll let go. And you realize that the only real sadness is that you want them to need you like you need them, but are too embarrassed to ask, and too ashamed to look like that, so you act cool, because you are, and hope that maybe they’ll just tell you they love you, so you can know, know that they won’t forget, because the only real danger in the whole world is being forgotten.

2009-12-28T19:51:00.001-08:00

I can't get warm. I keep going out for a smoke and end up shivering for an hour.
I'm typing in my sweater, winter coat, and massive slippers, and I keep making typos because I'm shivering.

Things are getting more complicated, but easier. Once you give up control, it all falls into the same plane of Shit You Can't Do Anything About. I'm kind of enjoying it. It burns, but only now and then.
I'm getting stronger on most fronts but weaker on some. I'm not protecting myself very well these days. I'm letting things in. I'm letting them twist and tear and sit for awhile. I need to stop.

The snow is beautiful. RR and I went for an adventure today and spent hours crunching through drifts in silence. I miss that. Just...spending time in silence. Someone there to keep you from falling too far, but you're left to your own devices. Mulling, ruminating, reflecting...I've gotten too much of that lately, but it never stops. Once you start on a subject it gets all salty and swollen and you can't stop chewing at it. And there are so many things to start on.

2009-02-28T09:56:00.000-08:00

One handed blogging due to delicious popsicle. This promises to be a delightful, if poorly spelled, post.

I am getting properly restless now that spring is coming. Days that smell like grass and rain. And then the fucking frost kills it. Longest winter EVER. Can I get an Amen?

I'm going to start doing yoga. I think it'd be good for me. I could use some zen.
And I fucking NEED to start getting shit done. ...maybe tomorrow...

2009-02-22T19:58:00.000-08:00

I'm getting tired of people telling us we're fucked. That the world is just going to do what it will do and eventually we'll just kill ourselves off. I don't care if it's true. I believe in people and kindness and our will to live and fight and dream. So fuck that.

2009-02-17T07:30:00.000-08:00

I can't stop stealing cookies from Linden's cupboard.

...sorry linden...

2009-02-15T18:50:00.000-08:00

I burned myself at work on top of the cut I gave myself at work.
On the plus side, Juanito called me "mi amore".
Sigh, Juan Simon, your gold teeth turn me on.
Also, an new guy (nameless black dude with GREAT jeans) called me his shorty. Obviously as soon as I'm out of range of white guys, this new booty is in demand.
I had best be careful though, because with all this milk duds for breakfast shit, this new booty may soon turn into this new aircraft carrier.

I dropped speech comm. I just don't have time, but I feel like I'm letting "Mr. Can Quite Speak Well Enough To Teach Speech Comm But What The Hell, It's U of I" win. Really my pride is just wounded, and now I'll have time for things like Homework and Practicing and...sleep. Suck it up.

Off to homework and toast. And playing with kittens.

2009-02-14T20:01:00.000-08:00

I was all about blogging, and then I lost my taste for it.
But nothing soothes the soul like talking about one's self, and these days my soul could use some soothing.

So we're back to square one: Sitting on my floor surrounded by dirty laundry and new music scores. The kittens are napping on my bed, the neighbors are chanting about vodka, and I still smell like work(tabasco sauce, limes, and degreaser). My happiness gets a B+, my productivity gets a C-(thank you hulu.com), and I'm fighting the urge to finish off the milk duds. I'm beginning to accept that this is a really good place to be, here on the floor, surrounded by information, smelling like expendable income and battling sugar addiction.

I've gotten disgustingly introspective since I realized that being an adult means that all your happy stuff is twice as wonderful as it was before, but the sad stuff is infinitely worse than when you were younger. That's not good. Give me back the days of meaningless conversations, free meals, no bills, easy sexuality and that endearing, infuriating sense of invincibility.

I need a plan.
Step one: get the hell out of here.

Any suggestion for step two?

2008-02-18T13:10:00.001-08:00

Today sucks.

I keep having these panic attacks, and I can't tell if it's because of the weather or the coffee or what.

I need to get out of here.

2008-01-14T14:51:00.000-08:00

A boy across the hall recently acquired an accordion.

<----Accordion
He plays it ALL THE TIME.

And even in really great movies

accordion ruins sex scenes.

<-------Sex

2008-01-13T11:12:00.000-08:00

I'm back

I drank some gross drinking fountain water.
I checked facebook.
I already have a pile of dirty laundry.
I made awkward conversation with a girl and her dad in the elevator.
I wrote out my schedule.
I went on youtube.
I used last semester's math book as a coaster.

I'm officially ready for second semester.

2007-12-13T10:04:00.000-08:00

last night santa threw chocolate at me.

I'm not sure whether to think that's merry or creepy.

2007-12-12T14:05:00.000-08:00

I love finals week.
I mean I hate it, but I love it, you know?
People stay in their rooms all damn day long and only leave to stretch their legs, eat, and pee.
NO ONE gets dressed EVER.
EVER.

Everyone just sort of bums around and doesn't sleep on a normal schedule and spends all their time either focusing intensely or completely zoning out via random computer games. No one eats healthily. I've have had nothing to eat but random cookie products and drinks with caffeine in them for the past 5 days.

This is where my brain is at.

I am going to take my math final.
And then I'm going to party.

A Shout Out

2007-12-11T10:54:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. The holiday season: where people tell each other how much they love EVERYONE.
I don't love everyone. But I am so blessed with the bestest friends, and I didn't write about them all, but I tried to get in the ones who are always there and wonderful. I love you all and if you want to hear something nice about yourself tell me, I could go on forever because i love all of you.
Cavya

She is the sweetest sunflower. She and I will sit in a cold basement eating apple chips and flaky chocolate and watch Harry Potter and yelling about boys and So You Think You Can Dance. She is the prettiest girl I have ever known. She is my better half. Her life has been hard, but she works through it anyway. She She makes this amazing strawberry syrup stuff. She is my girl, and I love you Cavyrrr!!!

Alison

Alison has a remarkable ability to complement you when you least expect it but need it the most. She has this strange sense of humor that has rubbed off on me entirely, for which I am pretty sure I am grateful. She has a way of making me feel important and self-sufficient at the same time. I could write a book about how much and why I love her and never really get it just right, so I'll say, She is sweet, and smart, and funny, and ridiculous and I love her.

Liana

Liana takes care of me better than anyone else I've ever known. She is the best for pouring your heart out to and knows exactly what to say. She writes the best stories. She has the ability to love through hurt. She finds joy in everything. She is one of the strongest people I have ever known and I love her.

Erin

Erin and I get along perfectly because we know just enough about each other's lives to be caring and interested but not overly involved. We never get tired of each other because of that. She tells the best stories and jokes. She knows me inside and out and loves me anyway. She can laugh through anything. She is beautiful, smart, and talented and I love her.

Bobby

He will probably never read this, but he's the best. He is kind and caring to a fault. He is hysterically funny. He takes better care of me than i ever could deserve. He is flawed and cynical, but wonderful anyway. I love him.

Dani

Makes me laugh. She is lovely but smart enough to know that there is no value in beauty unless you have the brains and drive to back it up. She is a foul-mouthed, brainy, funny, beautiful girl and I love her.

Kelso

Makes me laugh SO hard, but when I just need to vent she is good at being sweet and funny and lovely. I love you Kelsoface!!!

Em Steele

Em and I get each other. We are comfortable being flawed together. We can just chill and laugh and make s'mores and understand that sometimes friendship is best when it's simple.

Mel

Is such a remarkable girl. I don't know if she understands how uplifting her sweetness is, or that simply loving and working for that love is all there is in the world, but that's how she lives, and I am always in awe of her. I love you Mel!

--HOLIDAY LOVE FROM EM DUNNE.

2007-12-10T07:51:00.000-08:00

I have decided to start blogging again.
I have things to say. I like saying them. You should like them. Or at least comment and tell me that i have a nice butt or something.

See Appendix A.

I don't think you're ready.

Anyway.
Last night Emily and RR and i ate pokey stix but now my stomach feels like i spent last night eating sweaters and it is unhappy. All through my theory final my stomach made noises but everyone was too busy coughsneezeyawnlaughing to notice. Haha, Spell check insists that "coughsneezeyawnlaughing" is not a word. Let that be a lesson to you children. Computers are stupid. Except for Wikipedia. Wikipedia knows EVERYTHING.

I need a job. I need moneyz. I need to be able to buy expensive coffee and trashy magazines for at least the next 3 years.
Need.

Ps. Jodi's sister had a baby. Cept the baby daddy passed out because apparently watching babies being born is gross.
Pussy.

2007-02-19T10:43:00.000-08:00

They say that you can tell a lot about a girl by the contents of her purse.
Hmmmm...

lip gloss
eye liner
mascara
wallet with drivers license, insurance card, library card, blood type card, and a picture of my little brother
a pack of turkish silvers
a lighter(purple of course)
a mix cd
pens and pencils
loose change
bobby pins
random notes from Cavya
to do lists
a party invite
a thing i wrote
my cell phone

What does that mean???

I dunno. Today Cavya and i are going to be willful and reckless, because we want to. To day, our lives are going to be like an indie movie. It's a classic.

2007-02-13T17:30:00.000-08:00

So the word for today is

SUBLIME.

Chocolate, movies, warm... lovely.

Except for one thing.

I miss summer. I miss stepping out of the air conditioning and feeling the heat sink into you and the moisture swirl around you. I miss running around outside at two am in my shorts and tanktop. I miss sleeping outside. I miss ice cream. I miss new boys. For some reason it's harder to find sweet boys you want to flirt with during the winter. I miss sleeping with the window open. I miss lying on warm sidewalks. I miss chewing gum, long walk, nights out, holding hands, milkshake, sleeping in in sleeping bags, cuddling, sweet, warm rain, deep breath, sweaty self, sprinkler, cool grass, old couch, tree house, rope swing, hair up, thrift store, checkers playing, sticky hands, torn jeans, laughing til it hurts...
where are you summer?

Oh, hidden under the four feet of snow my brother had to dig me out of this morning.

m

2007-02-06T17:10:00.000-08:00

Hmmmmm...
what is to be said.

Valentine's Day is coming up.

Who wants to eat and watch movies and cuddle?

2007-01-12T20:18:00.000-08:00

I am apologizing right now.
I have been very sad for a while and i think i might continue to be sad for a while more, until i have time to get someone to help me.

And when i get sad, i'm just a bitch.

so i'm sorry when i am a bitch.

It's not fair to you guys. Sorry. But live with it. Just know that i love you, and than no matter how sad i get, i will continue to love you.
Please try to keep loving me.

2006-12-30T20:30:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back.

sorry i had to. KP is probably the only dork who will catch that reference.

I had a fabulous cruise. In the past week i have:

tanned ateicecream smiled danced snorkled wasdisappointedinmyself blinked feltfat laughed wrote beenclothed beennaked beenhappy sad mad tired giggly

I think more people should misspend their youths like me.

2006-12-22T21:01:00.000-08:00

Things might get bumpy but
Some people analyze every detail
Some people stall when they can't see the trail
Some people freeze out of fear that they'll fail
But I keep rollin' on
Some people can't get success with their art
Some people never feel love in their heart
Some people can't tell the two things apart
But I keep rollin' on
Oh, oh - maybe I can't follow through
But oh, oh - what else am I supposed to do?

have a merry christmas my sweet ones.

2006-12-09T20:43:00.000-08:00

i will rule this country with great dignitude.

i will conquer the world with great powerfullness.

i will change society with great experiencement.

I will solve life's questions with great intelligism.

I will find a cure for cancer and other diserses with great aptitution.

I will end world hunger with great generousisity.

I will fight crime with optiforce.

I will end environmental distruction with great believaness.

and then i will get into college.

2006-12-03T13:56:00.000-08:00

Today i cooked.
baked.
mixed.
tossed.
arranged.
braised.
boiled.
froze.
stirred.

and then i ate.

2006-11-24T20:53:00.000-08:00

i kinda swore this off on this blog, but i feel i should be honest to you all as my readers. feel free to be disappointed. It's ok. I don't mind.
I m at Diana and Alex's, and we know what happens there.

And it is glorious...

Lets party. Really.
I want you to know. Alcohol is not the devil. Its not evil or terrible. People make it that way. but people also make it awesome when you're dancing around the kitchen with a drink and a piece of pie and people are hugging you and kissing your wrists and everyone is smiling because we love eachother so much we get ice for eachothers drinks.

When everyone is drawing on your arms and holding you and we laugh and can't stop laughing and laughing, and there is alcohol and laughing and terrible jokes and good food and beautiful girls loving their attractive men and we know this is life and if we can keep having this much fun we will be ok. we will love eachother and get drunk every once in awhile.
Because it isn't evil. in fact...
it's a fucking blast.

2006-11-23T11:28:00.000-08:00

I tried to think of something untrite to write about for the holidays.
It didn't work.

But i really do love it and love them. I love the bustling women in aprons carrying steaming trays of whatnot while the men try to be helpful, but really only succeed in making drinks for their tired ladies. And we laugh and tell stories that we've heard so many times we don't know if we actually remember it or just remember hearing about it.
And everyone smiles and smiles because we really do love eachother, we just need a holiday to show it. And everyone feels warm and a little too full, and we attach the feeling to anything we can, a smell, a sound, a taste, a sound, because we know that soon, break will be over. It smells like dressing and perfume and VandTs and turkey and cranberrys and wood paneling. It is warm and golden and soft and awake. It is music and food and family and us.

its trite.
but true.

2006-11-21T17:12:00.000-08:00

just to be clear,
if you lose,
you are gonna owe money to the kind of men
you do not want to owe the smallest amount of money to.

2006-11-19T11:38:00.000-08:00

oh shit.

he came home.
he came home and he's older.
taller.
he smokes a pipe.
but his eyes are still huge and blue and i just want to talk to him because I L-

ike him a lot.

2006-11-15T12:07:00.000-08:00

oh dear

i'm afraid i'm stuck.

2006-11-08T15:26:00.000-08:00

you bitches.

not one comment.

;(
i am unloved.

i shall take my bloggerself to the blogstore and buy some bloggericecream.
and i will be a fat bloggerself with nothing to write about except for how i am fat and went to the bloggym and couldn't flirt with my blogpersonaltrainer because he didn't speak english very well.

2006-11-04T16:57:00.000-08:00

I am being a slutty schoolgirl for the Halloween party.

I think that says something about me.

Today is also The Kelsey's birthday.
I want everyone who reads this to say 'yay kelsey'.
right now.
come on, you know you want to.
'yay kelsey.'
it's good for you. i don't care if you look like a lunatic talking to your computer. if you are reading this you probably are anyway.

Yay kelsey.

2006-11-02T19:34:00.000-08:00

I have been a negligent blogger.
i apologize.

And for you i have something totally unfunny.
i also apologize.
but it is worth reading even if you don't understand it.
the attempt is the important thing.
look up ginsberg when you are done reading this. and try to understand how...revolutionary he was, even tho these days he would be a crazy sex maniac.
clear from your minds that rumor that sex is bad.
its awesome.
it won't kill you.
if you use contraception, you won't even get pregnant.
he came from a depressed, repressed era of---
beating your wife, and downing a fifth of whiskey,
and the wife would just wear sunglasses to the supermarket and pretend that she fell for her children.
and the husband would go to work.
and ginsberg said "no more". kerouac said "no more". being is not enough. you've gotta live.
so for you i give a poem, long. please read it. the poem is Howl. it changed a generation. it changed the way people thought about common life. the Beats wrote about the ordinary, the mundane trials of the everyman. it changed the way, believe it or not, the world is now.
i know its long. read it.
grow as a person.
try to understand, and understand that you don't have to get all of it.
what does it mean to YOU.

February 22, 1997

Allen GinsbergHOWL
For Carl Solomon

1

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated

who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,

who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York.

who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,

who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,

who sank, all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi's, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon,

yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,

suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark's bleak furnished room,

who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,

who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kaballa because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,

who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,

who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,

who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,

who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,

who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,

who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,

who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,

who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,

who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may,

who hiccupped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blonde & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,

who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman's loom,

who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,

who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,

who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses' rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,

who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hung over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,

who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium,

who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,

who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,

who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,

who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,

who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,

who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,

who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,

who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,

who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,

who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930's German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles,

who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,

who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

who fell in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other's salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,

who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,

who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,

who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,

who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,

and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin metrasol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,

who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,

returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,

Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,

with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 AM and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination--

ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you're really in the total animal soup of time--

and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrating plane,

who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus

to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,

the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death,

and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio

with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

San Francisco 1955 1956

2006-10-22T12:54:00.000-07:00

The Cavya is terribly fond of lists, and because i love The Cavya, but am also and individual, i will now make a list.

Things My Vagina Would Wear, Were It To Wear Things:
pearls
galoshes
high tops
mascara
baggy pants
sexy lingerie
ninja turtles shoelaces
a gryffindor scarf
bandanas
polka dots
dangly earrings
lots of tanktops
flipflops
a cap of some kind
ballet flats
huge boots
a parka
a lot of red
a tutu
lace
denim
bell bottoms
hippy skirts

it would ride around in a light blue volkswagon bug and have bottle caps dangling from the rear view mirror.
it would play tetris on its supernintendo, and mario and yoshi
it would eat a lot of peanut butter, chocolate, bread, pasta, and broccoli and sushi
it would have big earrings
it would wear tight tshirts from cool bands it saw in concert.
it would be really hardcore, but not obnoxious.
it would go to the beach a lot

i hope to be like my vagina someday.

2006-10-20T23:11:00.000-07:00

My Papa's Waltz
by Theodore Roethke

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

Whatdyathink? Is the father abusive or just drunk.
I DON'T EVEN CARE. I love this poem so much.

2006-10-18T14:08:00.000-07:00

here are some fun facts. they are so fun. are you having as much fun as i am?

There were 43,687 toilet related accidents in the United States in Earth is the only planet not named after a pagan GodEarth is the only planet not named after a pagan God

Apples, not caffeine, are more efficient at waking you up in the morning

Its impossible to smoke oneself to death with weed. You won\'t be able to retain enough motor control and consciousness to do so after such a large amount.

Every drop of seawater contains approximately 1 billion gold atoms
The number of people alive on earth right now is higher than the number of all the people that have died. Ever.
Men can breastfeed babies
There is a rare condition called Exploding Head Syndrome which you have probably never heard of.
Abe Lincoln bought 50 cents worth of cocaine in 1860
Honey is the only food that does not spoil. Honey found in the tombs of Egyptian pharaohs has been tasted by archaeologists and found edible.
The town of Los Angeles, California, was originally named "El Pueblo la Nuestra Senora de Reina de los Angeles de la Porciuncula"

2006-10-16T13:42:00.000-07:00

Sometimes i wonder if i am going crazy.
But then, i sometimes wonder if our kitchen sink changes colors.

2006-10-14T17:22:00.000-07:00

Is it weird that i think Alan Rickman is hot?

2006-10-06T15:46:00.000-07:00

i am addicted to:

america's next top model
flipflops
random trivia
harry potter
House
cute underwear
a good workout
sleep
my friends
blank notebooks
burritos
singing and dancing...in the car, the shower, during dinner, during class
foul language
cracking my knuckles
blinking my eyes at separate times
glitter
corn on the cob with butter and salt
comfy clothing
shoes
chocolate in almost any form-no dark or white
crayola markers
harrassing cavya
funny tshirts
gargling mouthwash
FFFOOOOOOODDD.
my posse of cool people
doodling
biting my lips
listening to Bobby exist
making sexy faces in the mirror
having made up yelling matches with people that i am mad at
being a smart ass
music
babies
playing cards
kittens
christmas
halloween

which brings me to...

what should i be for halloween?

please comment with your best top three ideas.

i am addicted to...

you.

2006-09-30T12:10:00.000-07:00

sometimes...

...i sit on the bathroom floor and think
...i wonder if love will find me, or if i will have to go looking for it
...i forget to change facial expressions
...i think about the babies i will have
...i cry for no reason
...i cry
...i am bitter
...i am jealous
...i drive too fast
...i want a boy just because he is taken
...i wish i were prettier
...i feel dumb
...i feel vulnerable
...people look past me
...my parents look old
...i yell in the car
...i hate everything
...i fell like i'll explode if one more person sticks their noses into things they know nothing about
...i wish i could go someplace where no one knew me
...i write

...i am everything i wanted to be

2006-09-22T21:56:00.000-07:00

Let me spell it out for you.

I a-m n-o-t l-o-o-k-i-n-g f-o-r a l-o-n-g t-e-r-m c-o-m-m-i-t-m-e-n-t.

I d-o-n-t n-e-e-d a m-a-n t-o d-e-f-i-n-e m-e.

I w-i-l-l b-e i-n-d-e-p-e-n-d-e-n-t a-s l-o-n-g a-s i w-a-n-t t-o b-e.

I w-i-l-l n-e-v-e-r s-t-o-p b-e-i-n-g m-e.

I a-m s-t-i-l-l l-o-o-k-i-n-g f-o-r t-h-e p-e-r-f-e-c-t k-i-s-s.

I a-m s-t-i-l-l l-o-o-k-i-n-g f-o-r t-h-e p-e-r-f-e-c-t m-a-n t-o g-e-t o-l-d w-i-t-h.

I k-n-o-w w-h-a-t p-a-i-n i-s. S-t-o-p a-c-t-i-n-g l-i-k-e y-o-u a-r-e t-h-e f-i-r-s-t o-n-e t-o f-e-e-l i-t.

W-e a-l-l a-c-t. I-t-s t-h-e o-n-l-y w-a-y t-o g-e-t b-y.

S-o-m-e-t-i-m-e-s f-o-r-g-i-v-n-e-s-s i-s o-u-t o-f t-h-e q-u-e-s-t-i-o-n.

S-o-m-e-t-i-m-e-s b-e-i-n-g s-t-u-b-b-o-r-n c-a-n k-i-l-l w-h-a-t y-o-u l-o-v-e.

I-t-s a-l-l u-p-h-i-l-l. T-h-e-r-e i-s a-l-w-a-y-s m-o-r-e.

N-o-w i-s n-o-t a-l-l. T-h-i-s i-s o-u-r w-o-r-l-d. O-u-r p-r-o-b-l-e-m-s t-o f-i-x.

O-u-r l-i-v-e-s t-o l-i-v-e.

2006-09-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

I am looking forward to

college
marriage, and subsequently, morning sex.
traveling
getting a job
babies
retirement
life

tomorrow.

2006-09-16T13:39:00.000-07:00

i am here.
with the Jigi and the cav.

This promises stories.

2006-09-13T14:40:00.000-07:00

i am rereading On The Road.
Which would be great except for that now i have free time, so i am practicing(good) and wanting a road trip and foreign and cities and travel.

There is nowhere to go but everywhere.
“No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength.”

2006-09-09T20:43:00.000-07:00

I would play sega with harrison ford.

2006-09-09T17:53:00.000-07:00

I just heard the word douchebaggery.

Oh yeah.

oh yeah man.

2006-08-28T11:59:00.000-07:00

BAM.

POW.

HI-YAH.

KA-BLAM.

KEE-YAH.

SHWING.

2006-08-23T18:27:00.000-07:00

Well, here we are again. Putting of the summer reading I was supposed to have done. Over the summer. Which is pretty much over. Thinking about how I should practice.
but not practicing.

ooohhh. I know.
We'll talk about biscuits.
Firstly because who the hell decided to spell it like that.
Secondly because Red Lobster biscuits are so damn good they make you wish you had more stomachs.
Thirdly because they are so versatile, and i don't think they get enough credit. They can be sweet or salty or buttery, or a combination of those, but do they ever get any props?

Nooo. because everyone is sooo damn caught up in bagels.

NOW you see why i haven't gotten a damn thing done all summer.

PS. I am not bashing bagels. I dig them hard core. i was just defending the underdog biscuit.

PPS. OMG send me some bagels. And biscuits.

PPPs. And maybe a turnover.

PPPPS. apple flavored.

2006-08-19T19:43:00.000-07:00

Marching Band anyone??????

Um, dear car of mine is unhappy. You know what fixes it. You have to HIT THE BATTERY.
Im not kidding. Not fill the oil tank or check the gas. HIT THE BATTERY.

Im befuddled.
I think it might be the lack of sleep.

Or the strangely coloured jelly bean i found on the sidewalk and ate.

2006-08-18T23:54:00.000-07:00

ok ladies, we've all got the same issue.
where they at?
So here you are with a presentation of some acceptable unavailables to keep the hope alive, or at very least provide some...inspiration

.

2006-08-18T21:39:00.000-07:00

Hey all you hopeless romantics out there, i got my Cavya and i on a phantom of the opera kick,(see her bloggy for beautiful emmy rossum) but i am in fucking love with Gerard Butler who is fucking beautiful as well, and all you can make fun of me, but i love that musical and i love andrew lloyd webber. and i love this song. It makes my heart go 'oof'.
and then i want to elope. Back to romantics, read it.

RAOUL
No more talk of darkness,
forget these wide-eyed fears;
my words will warm and calm you.
I'm here, nothing can harm you,

Let me be your freedom,
let daylight dry your tears;
I'm here, with you, beside you,

to guard you and to guide you.
CHRISTINE
Say you love me every waking moment,
turn my head with talk of summertime.
Say you need me with you now and always;
that's all I ask of you.
promise me that all you say is true,
RAOUL

Let me be your shelter,
let me be your light;
you're safe, no one will find you,
your fears are far behind you.

CHRISTINE
to hold me and to hide me.
and you, always beside me,
All I want is freedom,
a world with no more night;

RAOUL
Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime;
let me lead you from your solitude.
Say you need me with you, here beside you,
anywhere you go, let me go too,
Christine, that's all I ask of you

CHRISTINE
Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime;
say the word and I will follow you.

Share each day with me,
TOGETHER
each night, each morning.

Say you love me!
CHRISTINE
RAOUL
You know I do.

CHRISTINE
Love me, that's all I ask of you

'oof'

2006-08-15T21:40:00.000-07:00

when ever people ask me how my day was, or how i am, i'm always just like:Cool, fine, thanks.

But what am i really thinking? How was my day really, and should i say

Well...
I woke up feeling fat, but then i found a cute skirt, but i kept sneezing because i am allergic to myself, and i couldn't think of anything i wanted to eat for breakfast, so i ate some rocky road and then i felt fat again, and i had to wait a zillion minutes to pull out of my driveway because there were a billion inconsiderate bikers, but the sunrise was really pretty and the horses were running so i didn't mind, and i got a raspberry italian soda before work so i felt all sophisticated even tho live in oswego and drive a voyager, and then i couldn't stay awake during work, so i blinked alot and didn't feel like eating lunch, so i didn't and so i was hungry for dinner, but then I didn’t feel like eating so I feel skinny by default, I am unhealthy, but I took a long shower before bed because it makes me feel good, and I saw a cute boy at the grocery store, but then I saw his dad, and realized that I like men twice my age, and I a weird, ugh, but whatever, the air is cool and the windows are down and I will be out of Oswego soon, and I am happy and sad about that, and I made faced at the dog in the car in front of my, and then I go home and dance in my room, and then I read some silly book and played spidersolitaire, and then I went to bed, but I tossed around a lot because I saw a cute boy that day, but I am pissed because my family is ********, and I can’t sleep and home feels stuffy and comfy, too much so maybe, I should get out, but I dig what I know, and then I drift off humming old big band tunes, only to wake up at two am to think about love and babies and men, and who I am supposed to be,and how I’d like to be beautiful have enough discipline to use my talent, and then I drift back off to sleep.

But I don’t think that is what people want to hear when they ask how my day was.

2006-08-07T12:56:00.000-07:00

well. here is the rundown of Lollapalooza.

day one.

mates of state, cute husband and wife duo. very fun.
iron and wine. i think they would have been great except for one of the other stages was too damn loud to hear them.
raconteurs. i dug them, but there were too damn many people (like 10,000) so i couldn't hear terribly well.
sleater-kinney. we didn't listen to well to them, but for the most part i like them. apparently that was their farewell performance, which i found out after the fact, and kinda sucks.
death cab for cutie. first really good concert of the day. some dude passed out on jigau tho.

apartment.
party.
sleep on floor.

day two.

wake.
eat breakfast.
dance around the kitchen of the apartment.

feist. awesome live, and super cute. she sings all the in-between-song banter.
calexico. awesome.
gnarls barkley. same deal with the huge amount of people so it was hard to hear. not terribly revolutionary, but fun.
flaming lips. fucking awesome. the lead singer rolled around on the ground in a giant bubble. there were men in santa suits and girls dressed up as aliens and confetti and balloons.
new pornographers. fucking awesome. unfortunatly neko case wasn't there,but it was still in the top three best of the weekend.

apartment.
eat.
sleep on floor.

day three.
wake.
eat.
play set.
lunch at Noodles in the Pot.

hot chip. fun and funky,
ben kweller. couldn't hear too well.
andrew bird. ok, but all his stuff sounded the same.
the shins. not so great live, but i still love them.
of montreal. very fun.
wilco. fucking awesomely wonderful.

train.
home.
ssssssllllleeeeeeeeeeeeppppp.

two best tshirts.
-when i was your age i had to walk two miles to get stoned and have sex.

-my baby was stolen by a bear holding a shark.

all in all, worth every penny. you should all fucking go.
and party.
and dance.
and eat expensive food.

and have a fucking awesome time.

2006-08-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

I can drive. Yes!!

I shall celebrate by basementing with my Cavya and Erin and Lur-lur.

I am happy.

I wish i had a pretty dress to be happy in.

2006-07-31T21:28:00.000-07:00

We are proceeding to watch Almost Famous.

So my good thing of the day will be Almost Famous.

If you have never seen this movie, then you're life is slightly less wonderful than it should be.

Suffice it to say you will have to spend the next day either running around doing wonderfully stupid shit, or spend the next day curled up next to a turntable.

One or the other.

That is the fucking buzz.

But seriously. From the first moment that Sparks by The Who comes on and kate hudson walks her sweet self onscreen, you just want to rock out. And then have a really great party with only the people you like.

Which brings me to...

When are we free?
What is everyone doing...next week?

2006-07-27T22:27:00.000-07:00

I have decided that once a post, every post, I will include a picture/idea of something good, or something I like, that you should like too.

Everybody's doing it.
Come on.
It's the cool thing

Today's thing is...

French Fries.
I don't have a picture right now, but I think it is self explanatory. What is more wonderful than fries. I love them. They love me.
it is a beautiful and harmonious relationship between the two of us.
or maybe it would be more grammatically correct to say between me and the fries. There are certainly more than two parties involved.

2006-07-25T15:24:00.000-07:00

Li just gave me fake nails, and i think it might be bad news bears.

It has added an extention to my already clumsy hands, and added also to my need to wear skanky clothes in order to compliment my new red nails.

Looks like i'll have to be a clumsy hooker.

2006-07-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

I have to get back into school mode.
I must.
I still have to email Kaz and find a DI and learn the score and do my summer reading and ...

I still haven't had a vacation. For those of you who know my father's tendency to never do dick until the last minute, it has kicked in again, so instead of going to Michigan, we have to stay here and help him get the house fixed up for when our cousins come to stay with us in August. Camping on the dunes to washing walls. But hey, that's great, because in between washing walls i can go to the library to get harrassed by grumpy old people that have nothing better to do than bothering you about late fees and forcing you to become a hacker in order to simply check your email.

I am going to have a heart attack when i am twelve if i don't calm down.

But really, if i could just relax and do this.. for just a day or two.

2006-07-21T16:03:00.000-07:00

whoa...

camp was sweet.
i hit my head but also learned mace fo' real.

but all the aches that go with 14 hr a day rehearsals are BAD NEWS BEARS.

2006-07-14T22:10:00.000-07:00

I have another driving story for you all.

Today i got stuck behind a bicyclist. For two miles i got stuck behind a bicyclist.

A biker who, although he used the road, and is considered a legal vehicle, did not feel the need to pay attention to any rules of the road, such as stopping at stop signs. So i just complained loudly out the window for two miles. and then had a aneurism.

Now for a funny story.

A friend of mine got drunk and tried to hug a cat.

Isn't that a wonderful story?

2006-07-10T15:53:00.000-07:00

i am an angry driver. When i drive i swear and yell and call people names. i yell at pedestrians and children and business folk.

I give them the finger.

2006-07-03T22:50:00.000-07:00

Damn, i read my old xanga, and discovered that i wrote so well in it. I was honest and open and it was pretty. So i have made a vow to be more honest in my blogging, but no guarentees about the eloquence. Here is what is on my mind.

This year i have found out a lot about people i thought i knew. I set myself up for failure from the start by assuming that i could know anyone, but there it was, and i did. My family turns out to be quite different than what i thought it was. A man i looked up to turned out to be only a man and nothing more. And some kids i thought i knew turned out to be very disappointing.

"I don't know what i can save you from."

I finally realized that you can only save the ones who want to be saved. Some people like to be sad or angry or confused. They would never admit it right out, but deep down, they feel within the realm of safety to have that pain in them. Its safer than numbness, and it fuels that self-preserving anger that we all pretend we don't understand. They figure they'll be kicked down, might as well stay there.
But i keep backing myself into corners by loving these people. i can't save them, and what is more, it's not my job to.

When i was a wee freshman i met and maybe loved this guy. And maybe he loved me back. But he was self depricating and bitter and sad all the time, and he didn't really want to be saved because it gave him a connection to the normal people, and a pity lay from the higher ups. it tore us up and it made me so mad and still does.

We always think that we should learn our lesson, and then we turn around and do it again. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.
Shame on me for thinking that this new person was different. Shame on me for thinking that he would help himself enough to let someone else help him.
No one will ever hear his side of the story.
And that is the biggest tragedy.
Because he has such a story to tell.

2006-07-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

I think i am going to have a DAMN THE MAN party.
It will double as my birthday party, and we will blow bubbles and finger paint and light things on fire.

Indeed.

2006-06-27T17:37:00.000-07:00

I need some summer. I need to be bored and aimless.

Shall we wander?

2006-06-26T06:40:00.000-07:00

Whoa, that was close.
For approximatly two days i though perhaps i had a thing for someone my own age, but as soon as i said something about it, it became evident that i am simply a girl from Oswego, which means that my friends are either dating all the good ones here, or are the good ones here. Aka, i do not have a thing for him, which is kind of a relief. No, it is a relief.

I am a little messed, aren't i? but there is nothing like a relationship to put a damper on what i want to do right now.

The girls and i were talking about how they say that you will marry someone like your father. Which is TERRIFYING...Because most of our fathers are fuck ups. some of them meant well, and some of them didn't, but man, it's amazing how much parents can fuck up a kids life.

I don't want to date right now, but man, i am soooo looking forward to being married some day.
So i guess that is one decision i am not allowed to fuck up.

2006-06-23T00:03:00.001-07:00

Some things that make life good:

Bread , dancing
spicy food, flowers
Woody Allen, comic strips
bubbles , sleep overs
black and white movies,
too loud music, books
rain , gaudy jewelry
boys ,girls
men ,women
car chase scenes and action movies
culture ,road trips
youth ,comfy jeans
TPFs , best friends
beaches , ice cream
waterbeds ,cameras
thrift stores ,disney movies
Jacob Dylan ,bath toys
thunderstorms ,siblings
chopsticks ,hugsandkisses
energy drinks ,museums
traveling ,french fries
bacon ,jokes
the sound of cutting construction paper
sand ,glitter
fire ,cinnamon toast
cities ,the ocean
dreams ,baths
art ,smut
candy ,moderate indecency
cardboard figurines of famous persons
Colin Firth, Alan Rickman, Liam Neeson, and Gabriel Byrne
Van Gogh ,tuna fish
seasons music

Peanut Butter and Jelly.

2006-06-20T22:04:00.000-07:00

i feel bad.

Of all the things i have tried to work on this year, it was to become more open-minded and less cynical, and to a huge extent i succeeded. But i have many younger friends, that all go through shit from time to time, and when it happens i tend to roll my eyes and sigh about the drama of high school.

but i kinda forgot what it's like.

I kind of forgot how lost you feel when you're in that place in your life, and how hard it is to feel like you belong, and it makes it worse because you know that everyone goes through that phase, and you are just one of millions of hopelessly lost and unhappy, flawed humans.
I forgot how bad breakups hurt, even if it's out of a dumb relationship where nothing happened and the boy was mean.
I forgot how fun it is to be wordy and poetic, just because you are good at it.
I forgot how fucking awful parents can be.
I forgot how sometimes people create drama because they need to feel like they CAN feel, and are afraid that somewhere along the way they will get stuck in mediocrity and fade into the background.
I forgot how sometimes you say yes, just to have someone to hold you when you feel like you are going invisible.
I just forgot. And i guess i am kind of sorry. But more i just want to say that i understand. And just know that it will pass and there is a place to be happy.

a very wise, bearded choir teacher once told me that the hardest part of growing up is finding out who you want to be, and to be it. and i've got that almost down. So it can happen, and sometimes getting there is hard, and it's hard and it sucks and you want to give up and stop speaking to people and just write and sleep and read for the rest of your life. Which you could do, i suppose. And then you would never go to a party, or really kiss someone, or go to concerts or dances or restaurants, or enjoy life...
So you do get to decide. You could give up and wimp out.
Or you can live.

Its hard. Its growing up.
It's life, and more often than you expect, there will be genuinely pure happiness.
It is there. It just kind of takes awhile to find.

2006-06-20T05:58:00.000-07:00

This post is to assure you that i haven't given up blogging.
but for once i don't have anything to say.

2006-06-14T04:42:00.000-07:00

These are the things i think about when i have too much to do.

For one year:
I am going to become a barista in San Francisco and date a tall, built guy named Derrick with blue eyes and a little facial hair. We will listen to a lot of Grateful Dead and wear baggy jeans and tank tops of our favorite bands. He will take me to concerts and make sure no one steps on me there because they are drunk. We will go to the beach a lot, and read a lot. We will learn to salsa and to tango, and how to make perfect spaghetti sauce, and how to speak Japanese. He will tuck my hair behind my ears, and not lie about whether or not clothes make me look weird. We will also listen to Tool, when we are feeling crazy, and Billie Holiday and Bessie Smith when we are feeling bluesy. And he will know who Stuart Murdock is and that the coolest movie ever has yet to be discovered.
and we will love eachother, and California will love us. And it would be nice.

2006-06-11T18:14:00.000-07:00

Well.
I have been to exactly one worthwhile party this summer, and it involved a lot of ...knitting sweaters for orphans.
I have responsibility this summer!!!!!
Pride and Prejudice will be sweet, Beauty and the Beast should be fucking cool, marching band looks good, and speech will be sweet because Cabrini Green and i are doing a DDA. And i am in charge in all of those deals in one place or another except in Pandp.
Prairie Fest is next weekend, and since i was born into the position of parking and cleaning staff, i shall be all but nonexistent. I have something like a twelve hour workday?
I keep hearing about some of my friends partying their brains out, but honestly, i am having a good time with this. I really like teaching, and right now, just about everything i do involves just that. It's cool to be able to do something i enjoy that actually means something to other people.

That being said...Cav, Li, Kelsey, Heather, Danni, Em Steele,Tori, and anyone i missed...In a week and a half i expect to be making pancakes and disney movies and air hockey with each and every one of you.
OK? ok.

2006-06-06T05:59:00.000-07:00

what else?

2006-06-05T13:12:00.000-07:00

What would inspire one to get their backs pierced twelve times and dangle from a helicopter?
What?
Bad parenting?
Anger at the government?
To support the helicopter industry?
Angst?
To get the chicks?

I know that's what i want in a man.
someone who will pierce ridiculous parts of their bodies and dangle hundreds of feet above the ground for me.
Where are you prince charming?

2006-06-02T19:52:00.000-07:00

What's to be said.

I am not a terribly interesting person right now, after spending eight hours on a history project yesterday.

But only 3 more hours of junior year. Then i am a senior. And i think i've done ok. I love the kids in the stuff i do, i know what i want to major in, and this summer looks like it will be very...eventful, and i expect you all to contribute to that eventfulness.

I mean it. Lets party. What are you doing tomorrow?

2006-05-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

'Don't bash masturbation. It's sex with someone i love.'
Woody Allen

2006-05-26T20:49:00.000-07:00

Well, i'm hanging with Amy anoche.
Hanging with the people i haven't seen in a while.
Went to boot's par-tay.
Drove around with Jigi
and listened to feist

and wished upon hoped upon dreamed for
SUMMER.

2006-05-26T15:46:00.000-07:00

Funny things i have heard lately---

Talia:He gave Melissa a bad grade cuz she asian.
Me: and he gave you a good grade cuz you black?

(note:i do go to East, and yes i speak ghetto, and no, i don't find it wrong or offensive because i am perfectly capable of correct grammar.

Jigi: I had a boyfriend in first grade who told me he loved me. He also told me he was the red power ranger.
(note:he obviously was lying because I am the red power ranger."

Me: Can i use your...wang,...that thing...shit...what the fuck's it called?
Mathias i think: Pencil?
(Note:I haven't gotten a whole lot of sleep lately.)

Simpsons, quoted by me(paraphrase):That was so bad it sucked and blew at the same time.
(Note: we have VJ auditions today that would have beat up Ghandi they were so mean.)

Corina:Mr. L? would you look at my project...Mr l? Mr L get your butt over here!
(Mr. L is my imposing, strict, and wonderfully sarcastic history teacher.)

Quote in the year book:"A security guard asked me if i was pregnant and i said, eh, everybody has bad days."

(note: what can i say?)

2006-05-23T06:06:00.000-07:00

hey

2006-05-23T05:53:00.000-07:00

I slept for ...mmmm... 12 hours last night. My body is shutting down into summer mode.

Which is bad for school. However---

I am getting good grades and will be visiting the U of I horn professor over the summer, and everything is happy.

I'm feelin the summer
if you wanna feel the summer, go here

listen to "HOME"
love the skinny white boy with the black soul.

2006-05-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

Why do teachers assign poster projects?

WWWWWWWHHHYYY. I felt like one of those movie people who wacks their head against things.

"This is about the war of 1812. It...uh...it happened in 1812. here's a picture of the word 1812. Thank you."

Well i don't know about you, but i feel enlightened.

2006-05-17T17:20:00.000-07:00

cavya saved snow from the first snowfall and we ate it today.

i will be seventeen soon. June 11.

I'm cool with that. I don't have very much suppressed bitterness, and i am rocking out.

people always say youth is wasted on the young.
i am not wasting it, buddy.

although when i am 30 i will probably look back and go, 'what the fuck, emily. what the fuck.'

but it won't matter because by then i will have so much money and i will buy a mind erase machine and make you all forget all those times i flashed you or ran around in the middle of the night or stole road signs and put them in your foyer or...

just kidding. a)i will not have money to spend on mind erase machines and b)those are good times. It will go in my book of Good Stories to Tell in the Nursing Home. I once read about a lady who said that her life was so interesting people would pay to get into her Nursing Home, just to hear all the cool stories.

people will pay to just hear the first 16 years. Imagine what I'll do with the next 85...

2006-05-12T09:39:00.000-07:00

i listened to a podcast interview of Isobel Campbell last night and i decided that she has the sweetest voice in the entire world.

2006-05-11T09:11:00.000-07:00

Well, I should be doing history right now but…

I am so psyched for next year.
I will be Speech Captain, and maybe drum major and the bands and choirs are going to Disney and …

I have been thinking a lot lately about something. I am so grateful to be smart. I’m not a genius, but things come easy to me. Same with looks. I am not beautiful, but I’m not gross.

Isn’t that nice?

2006-05-03T10:47:00.000-07:00

Tony Pierce got me thinking about things i wish, and you know what the big one is?

I wish i could be straight up with people and not have them look at me like i'm a saint or a communist or a fool or a disappointment. I wish i could say, this is me and what i do and guess what?...I'm 16. It's my time. I'm on the climb up. So here you go...

I am smart and talented, i'm a good musician, and an ok writer, even when the heartfelt stuff sounds trite.
I miss limelight like it was and i dunno if i want to risk having another best or worst time of my life, because i don't know which it will be.
I drink. A lot. And i am fun and responsible and a good time. Just because i am underage, doesn't mean that i am going to hell.
I can't do math. I can add, i can subtract, i can multiply i can divide. That's fucking it.
I love my girls even though erin is smarter and cavya is prettier and they're both better singers.
I do not smoke anything.
I go through phases of feeling fat and feeling beautiful.
I wish i had a red sports car.
I like the idea of helping make illegal immagrants legal.
I love my asss.
I hate superman.
My family isn't perfect, but my little brother is.
I've never kissed a person i truly loved.
That is me.

I like me.

2006-05-02T10:44:00.000-07:00

In my happily aquired crazy night life of this year i have discovered something, and dear Jessi reminded me of it.

6am is only good to see when you haven't slept yet.

i love it. It is possibly a new phrase to live by. Lets see.

2006-05-02T09:30:00.000-07:00

I heard from word on the street that a girl i knew from OHS is now living in Germany, parting at night, waking up at noon, going to a coffee shop beneath the apartment she's living in, reading and walking around until its late enough to go partying again. She's 17.

And at first i was really jealous. I've always wanted to travel and see the world. But then i realized that as fun as all that sounds, i'd probably go nuts. Nothing for me to do, no lessons or teaching or work. And i personally am of the opinion that the best parties are with people you really know.

So when i do go out and see the world, I'll have to remember to keep moving. Never stay in one place too long. It's big out there, but not quite as big as we think.

My Aunt and uncle sent me this picture of Venice, though, and now I'm going stir crazy again.
Vacation anyone?

2006-05-01T05:27:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like i will pass junior year. I think that deserves a celebration.

Party?

2006-04-27T09:43:00.000-07:00

Well, i took the ACT.

I was like, hey Mr Math section.

Math was like, Bend over bitch.

2006-04-22T10:13:00.000-07:00

well...what's to say.
the musical is going...
well, it's going

i gave blood yesterday so i felt a little smooshy all day.

i am going to the dance tonight just like the nice, normal, social butterfly-y person that i am.

i think i deserve a pat on the back.

2006-04-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

i am so sorry.

my lack of updating in inexcusable.
BUT-I have some first rate excuses.
Week one, i did a stupid thing, got sick, and hada minor mental breakdown. Not in the mood then to update.
Week two, i was on break, bitches!! I was too busy flirting with Floridian boys and getting sunburnt.
This week i have contracted...strep, pnemonia, the common cold, or the flu. it remains to be discovered. I am also being attacked with Acc Honors Lit homework because my teacher thinks compromising my sleep and social life is a funny game.

But break was awesome y'all, and summer is on the way, and in nine weeks i will be partying my FACE OFF, and i will be...*pause for dramatic effect*...a senior.

Yuk. I don't even want to THink about searching for colleges. But you know what college means. Nights full of-
studying hard and being concerned with my future.

call me. we should hang out. all of you.

2006-03-14T11:56:00.000-08:00

today a black boy jumped in front of me in the hallway and yelled, 'WHATCHAGONNADOABOUTIT!'

So i yelled, and then started laughing.
i love my school.
but what am i going to do about it?

2006-03-13T12:52:00.000-08:00

i know why people get chronically depressed. i've got it.

The answer?

Bad/decaf coffee and/or math.

Really. Bad coffee is enough to make anyone feel that life is not worth living, and if you're already bummed out, it can send you over the edge. I say bad/decaf, because even bad caffinated coffee opens your eyes enough to make you feel normal, but if it is both bad and decaf, you might as well throw in the towel.

Math. It is the bane of existance. i ask you...
WHO THE FUCK CARES WHAT THE CUBED ROOT OF 6/7THS IS?!?!?
i certainly don't. It's not feeding the hungry or earning me money. It's not even making current television shows more watchable or creating fatless candy. It is not fun or relevant to my life, and i wash my hands of it.

am i right, or am i right.

2006-03-11T10:39:00.000-08:00

to fund my extravagant lifestyle, i am an aide to an autistic boy in a gymnastics class of 15 5-7 year old boys for an hour on saturdays.

today one boy declared, "i...am a coconut head."
i congradulated him, thinking that that would be the end of the matter.
he began chanting "coconut head, coconut head..." and was joined by a chorus of 15 boys yelling "coconut head!!!"
this is my tax dollars working for me.

on the way home my dad informed me that somewhere in the heap of metal i claim as a car, there is a gas leak.
somewhere.
he told me that was the reason for the fire extinguisher in the passenger seat.
i told him every car ride would be an adventure from now on.

2006-03-09T09:12:00.000-08:00

I have returned. I have missed ranting to the world wide web.
I think it has missed me.

Lots of things have changed since tattoome.

Mostly my shoe size.
But other things too.

I am a little less responsible in some ways, and a little more alive.
I have a job.
I have a new purse.
I have new friends.
I decided that i don't mind politics.
I decided that one can be straight and still have a good time experimenting.
I have discovered the wonder that is SmartBalance Butter.
I have discovered that i am not as strong, and stronger than i thought i was.
I have written half a novel.
I have re-read On The Road.

I bought a Pokemon shirt that is the source of all my power.

and i am genuinely having a good time.