"actors/acting"

i know that i bash on the actors and actresses that i don't like mainly becuase they play the same person in every movie and that person is usually themselves. tom cruise is my favorite example. that dude plays an asshole in every movie he's in and something tells me he's probably an asshole in real life.

tonight, i saw "up in the air" with george clooney. george clooney is another one of those actors that plays the same guy in every movie - this film is no exception - so i was compelled to think of why it is that george has not incurred my actor wrath. i don't feel one way or another about him, i've seen some of his films, i still remember him fondly from "facts of life" and what not, but i don't have a strong yen for him in a positive or negative way.
in my comtemplation, i realized that i'm ok with george clooney playing the same dude in every movie - playing himself in every movie - because he's NOT an asshole. he's totally honest about who he is as a person and as an actor and in how he lives his life and he doesn't try to be anything else (seemingly). and something tells me that he's probably a pretty rad fella in real life. thus, he's ok in my book with playing the same role in every film he's in.

"up in the air" - very good movie. it just reiterates what we all already know anyway, but against an applicable to today's issues backdrop and in a nice way.

that's all i wanted to say about that.

ps - the shepherds pie at the alamo is GOOD. and they give you a lot of it.

seriously??

of all the assholes i work for, one of them, for christmas, brings me a gift that truly shows me that she don't know me at all:

a white leopard-print scarf

what? should i say that again to make sure you caught that?

a

WHITE

LEOPARD-PRINT

SCARF.

i don't think i need to expound any further on this.

finding the hilarity at work

because there's really nothing fun or funny about what i do.

so, i had to verify employment for a borrower who works for the texas beef council (because texas NEEDS a beef council) and their hold music is their radio commercials. as i'm waiting for someone to answer my call, i hear willie nelson pushing beef. or i hear kris kristofferson pushing beef. or, the funniest one of all, hearing george w. pushing beef, like it was your patriotic duty to eat beef.

ah, meat. it's what's for dinner.

question

should i be surprised that i made more cash selling my books and cds than i did selling every other saleable thing i own (bar my car)?

dear tall 'n' cute newish checker at the hipster mart:

i see you totally light up when i walk in for my nightly pomegranate sweet leaf green tea. you are REALLY good at flirting with me and have pretty twinkly blue eyes. i see you hastily ring through the 3 people in front of me in the checkout line so you can flirt with me some more and then continue to talk to me as i walk through the door to leave. it's all very sweet.

i wonder if your extreme height - seriously, how tall ARE you?? - makes you less... nonchalant? blase? dispassionate?... than the other hipsters at the hipster mart.

too bad you didn't start flirting with me before. we should make-out sometime.

sweet leaf and jose ole!

pixy

thinking

i don't think anyone will ever be able to give me an acceptable and satisfactory explanation as to why jon dee graham isn't one of the biggest things out there. that dude is SO FUCKING amazing at what he does.

people are idiots.

i found another "poop" product!!

chicken poop!!

i want to buy it all! AWESOME.

list musings

item completed: barbecue in lockhart, tx.
dealer of choice: black's barbecue

black's was a recommendation from a native born texan who got all kinds of excited that i wanted to go have barbecue in lockhart, the capital of barbecue in the state of barbecue - texas. and, let me just say, THEY WERE RIGHT.

lockhart is about 35 miles south and a teensy bit west of austin on state highways. lots of nothing exists between austin and lockhart. except billboards. about barbecue. just before you hit the lockhart "city" limit, there are about 14 billboards for black's barbecue ALONE which indicated to me that this is probably going to be some huge hall o' barbecue. i got into town, turned right at the yellow arrow and turned right again at the THREE other yellow arrows and on the corner stood this little storefront on the end of a row of town buildings.
you enter and walk inside a narrow corridor to another door which leads you to the food. before you walk in the 2nd door, there's a hand-written poster explaining how things work here at black's. because barbecue needs explaining. as you enter an even narrower aisle, you become surrounded by food. sides of green beans, potatoes 3 ways, macaroni salad, beans 2 ways, mac and cheese, rolls - you name the side, they've got it. you help yourself and then you're eventually pushed along to the meat. the delicious, loverly meat. you can get a meat sammich. you can get ribs, turkey, chicken, brisket... or brisket... or, how about some BRISKET? because what else do you go to barbecue for in texas? my mouth is watering as the super friendly meat cutter asks me what i've got a hankerin' for and i say "surprise me, but cut some of the fat off that brisket first." and they do. without giving the newbie a mean face. i pay, i get a drink and i sit down at the 1 long row of tables in the middle of the very small room. it's MAYBE 1000 sq. ft. total, including where you get in line with your food. i grab some sauce and i go to town.
this meat is the most tender, juicy, delicious meat i've ever put in my mouth. you read that right jim's cheesesteak! and that one kaw... uhm... yeah, better than all of you! and the sauce... the sauce is PERFECT. too many barbecue places make their sauces spicy for "kick" but i've only found that to be a deterrent from the taste of the whole meal. the spice overwhelms and you can't taste anything else - what's the point? not this sauce. this sauce is smoky with a hint of sweet. so. much. smoke. i want to eat that sauce on everything - meat, waffles, cereal, pickles, ANYTHING. and it compliments the meat so well. i can't even talk about it anymore.

so, to sum up: black's is the barbecue place to go in lockhart. small, extremely friendly staff, rad atmosphere and incredible barbecue. i smelled like smoky delicious barbecue for hours afterward. i wanted to eat me.

delicious and nutritious.

why?

on tuesday night, i didn't feel like cooking and had a hankering for cookies and hummus - not together. i went to the hipster mart, picked up some cookie dough and wheat thins and hummus and gorged myself.
man, did i feel like SHIT after that!
i went to sleep and woke up still feeling like crap and and the opposite of hungry. as a matter of fact, i would have been ok if i'd never eaten again... for that day at least. so,i decided to do a water-only fast. i did a SHIT TON of research on it yesterday and, apparently, gorging oneself on cookies and wheat thins and hummus and peanut m&ms and chai lattes the day before said fast is NOT the way to prepare for a water only fast. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME.
i was fine with this venture - even thinking of doing it for an extended period of time - there are people out there who do 40 day water fasts! WHAT?! i tossed out all the rest of the cookies, the hummus, the remaining few wheat thins and anything in my fridge that could go bad. i was inspired and energized by this new challange. that was... until about 6pm. then my gums and teeth started aching like no body's business and that make my head want to explode. so, i watched "cabaret". because what else do you do when you want nothing more than to chop your own head off and throw it in the lake? at the end of "cabaret" my head and teeth did not feel any better. so i read for about 90 minutes and then went to sleep.
i woke up feeling EVEN SHITTIER (nausea - yick) but not hungry (surprisingly) so i had some water and went to the HEB to get some superfoods juice and food since i tossed out all my food the day before. it took all i had not to throw up in that grocery store. i got home, drank some of the juicy juice, threw up a little and still felt like crap. then i went and did what made me feel better, but no one likes to hear about, so i'll just let your imagination take you where you'd like with that one. but now i feel AWESOME!
my water-only fast lasted only 1 day. but i realized a few things along the way. 1: i've gotten lazy with my eating and food preparation. 2: i'm going to do a 1 day fast per week - i think it's going to motivate me to eat better during the week so i don't feel so shitty on that day that i do fast. 3: i will eventually do a 30 or 40 day water only fast, just to see what's up, you know?
so, i went without food for 36 hours and that's that.

why did i do it? because i felt like shit one day because of eating and i didn't want to feel like shit anymore. it'll stay in my mind as something to try just so i know that i'm able to do it. :)

i'm such a geek

for the red-headed boys.

david wenham is seriously fucking adorable and i wan to do very very bad things with him. and he was just in my bed, via netflix online, as a seriously brainy and tricky fractal geometry genius. all the terminology... i just can't control myself. it's like having scientists talk all sciency to me.

RAWR.

observation

i use "weird" FAR too much in my posts.

i'm going to make a concerted effort to reduce the amount of "weird".

running list

for the month-long good-bye i've got to say to austin:

- a wednesday night at flips with mte and southpaw
- a sunday night at the saxon with what's left of "the resentments" - completed 11/22
- a wednesday night at the continental with jon dee and james mcmurtry
- a thursday night at lucky lounge with ian maclagan
- a wednesday night at the broken spoke with dale watson
- a movie or 40 at the alamo
- sangria margaritas at el chile
- deluxe chicken enchiladas with deluxe tomatillo sauce at chuy's
- rudy's bbq
- a trip to lockhart for bbq - completed 11/28
- lots of amy's ice cream
- homeslice - i might fit that in with the wednesday night at the continental
- a burger and a game at the tavern
- take a bath in sweet leaf pomegranate green tea
- a michael jackson cupcake
- an "art fair" weekend in gruene
- a show at gruene hall - maybe reckless kelly
- more...

**more - so much music going on in the next month and a half!:
- continental club:
- 11/19 - ian moore
- 12/1 - david garza
- 12/3 - chili cold blood
- 12/7 - beginning of "crybear" residency at the gallery (free) and crybear is david garza
- all of december - alejandro escovedo tuesday night residency
- other:
- 11/18 - kevin devine @ emos
- 11/24 - neko case @ antones
- 12/4 & 5 - the mother hips @ emos

WHAT?!

i'm sure i'll be adding to this list as time goes on...

i can't believe i almost forgot - a hey cupcake! cupcake. probably a michael jackson. how do you write a drool sound?

SO angry!

i don't even know why i'm still SO angry at this person. i've resolved that they're a lazy retard who insists on fucking my stuff up, but i'm STILL mad!

i'm usually ok at resolving and moving on, but not this one. i want to beat her senseless with a meat hammer and drag her bloody body around the office by her hair so that everyone knows what happens when you needlessly piss me off.

GAH!

dream

so i dreamt last night that i was a "kept woman" by some super rich dude that lived behind a hospital.
i remember swinging outside of a window of a very tall building, suspended from a helicopter and the dude's assistant was with me, then we had to go away from the building because we were in restricted air-space and then we were just hanging out in mid-air in the middle of nothing suspended by this helicopter. i was only mildly scared which is weird for me.
i remember going to super rich dude's office and finding him in a meeting, so i went down to the lunch room where everyone else was and they had weird tvs and games and stuff down there. when i was down there, it was like everyone knew but didn't know who i was. weird.
i lastly remember walking up and down the parking structure of the hospital in front of super rich dude's house and telling security that i could go up to a restricted part of the structure because that was the way i came in and that was the only way for me to get out and, while i was heading up there, judith light - the mom from "who's the boss" - was coming out of the hospital with a lot of paparazzi following her and she was coming up the restricted way that i was in. i looked in front of me and there was a whole buffet of food and booze that judith light's friends were chowing down on, waiting for her.

i dream funny things.

i want

the body of someone who is taller than me and who can squeeze me harder than i can squeeze them here. now. i need to hug some of this shit out. really badly.

observation

my appendix scar has a muffin top.

just thought that was worth sharing.

so...

i wrote a verse. to a song. last night. and there were other words floating around it, but there is most definitely a solidified song verse there. and music. but i don't know how to make it.

it's kind of weird. i'm not sure what it feels like. maybe like the first acupuncture needle? maybe i need to wait til it's all done? maybe it'll feel like writing a song and there's nothing else that feels like that?

weird.

maybe I didn't write it. maybe someone inhabiting my body did it.

perfection

"to love or be loved is no crime. the really criminal thing is to make a person believe that he or she is the only one you could ever love."

henry miller

the perfect combination

i think i've found the perfect (for me) lebowski combination:

- xanax - since i don't have pot, this is a perfectly acceptable substitute
- pizza rolls
- beer

blissful.

whoa

i never thought robert mitchum could get sexier, but he just did... australian accent and salacious language with deborah kerr... that's how.

rawr!

thinking

i think i need more gregory page in my life. i know i write him off because he's a "love-maker" not a "fucker" but, you know what, i think i could use a piece of that tender love-making right now. not necessarily on a sexual level, but on a whole life level.

thinking

going through the cds is harder than going through the books. every one i pick up to put away and in a box get an "awww... i remember when {insert event here}".
sometimes i look at the covers and say "i'm going to miss you" and then kiss them. or i hug them close to my chest. or i linger over the liner notes.

this is so weird. i want to cry like a baby. in a good way.

i like this:

danny elfman has a line in a song:

"if i could change the future, i would change the past instead"

i agree. i liked hearing that today.

i just did a VERY scary thing

and backed up my current itunes library to my ipod in disk mode and DELETED my itunes from my system hd. because it's too small to take ALL of my music. i had to delete what i had so i could make room for more.

i REALLY hope this works. i'm going to cry harder than i did that one time that that heartless ahole did that thing to me if it doesn't work. i see projectile vomit in my future.

grandmas

grandmas, mimis, granmamas, nanas, etc. have a really weird and very distinctive smell. i smelled it again today and it was super strong. strong enough for me to FINALLY pinpoint the mixtures of smells that make this uniquely grandma scent:

3 parts old person
4 parts menthol-y cream - bengay, aspercream, tiger balm - you choose
millions of parts powder. loose loose powder
1 part polident
1 part sink bath
2 parts coral-colored lipstick
3/4 parts musty old church smell

they should bottle this and sell it to the ladies at the nursing homes. maybe if enough of them doused themselves in it, it would disguise the odor of death, urine, decay and defeatism.

the original "tiger beat"

i'm selling all my books to this used book store. and i'm doing it one box at a time because, well, because i fuckin' feel like doing it one box at a time. and it's dangerous because they make you stay in the store while they look through and price what you're selling.
i fell into the trap the first day - i went traipsing about the store looking around and found a used thrush hermit cd!!! they're canadian and you can't get ANY of their shit here!! so i bought it. i made $44.50 on my book sale and spent $6.75 on the cd, netting $37.75. i told the guy that they were going to get it back anyway, i consider it a "rental" fee. this really isn't going to help my reason for doing this.
the second day, i came in with a plan: find a book - preferably something with several copies on the shelf and one that i haven't read before - and sit in one spot and read the book while they price. so i did.

the book: herodotus, "histories".

i'm head-over-heels for the writing style of this book. maybe it's the interpreter. maybe it's how it was originally written, i don't know. but it reads like time's first "tiger beat" magazine. "tiger beat" magazine with greek names.
"atys did this and this and this. and then corseus did that and that and that. and then they sent all this gold to this god's temple. but that was only according to the persians! wait 'til you hear how the greeks told it!" et cetera, et cetera, et cetera (in the king of siam voice).
there are 4 (maybe more) accounts of daughter snatching for wiving in the first 3 pages alone! this is choice reading!
do they really have whole college classes on this book?!!? it's AMAZING. i'm so in love with the ridiculousness of it. love love love.

fuck perez hilton and people magazine - read herodotus!!

i think it's officially a "problem" now.

my addiction to sweet leaf pomegranate green tea that is. case in point: i go to the corner market to get an icy cold bottle of said narcotic and the hipster checking me out said...
hipster checker: "you know, they just started a promotion today where if you buy 6 bottles of tea, you get that nifty reusable sweet leaf grocery/tote bag thingie. and since it's, like, the only thing you buy here, well, i thought i'd let you know."
me: "do you think you'll still have some bags on saturday? that's the day i'm planning on coming in and buying a whole butt-ton of sweet leaf."
hipster checker: "i don't know, they sent us 60 bags and it's 'while supplies last', so..."
me: "i'll live on a wing and a prayer that they're still here then. if they are, then i'm meant to have one."
hipster checker: "if we're out, i'll give you a jose ole burrito for your trouble."
me: "sweet!"

they've got me pegged, those damn hipsters.

i only get the jose ole burritos one out of every four or so times i get a tea.

i swear.

consolidating

is weird and oddly comforting. i wish i could so it with everything. including mental stuff. :)

...

jane russell is friggin' CUTE!! what a sass-pot. and she sings! and she has FABULOUS legs!

rawr.

forget leslie caron or esther williams - i want to be jane russell when i grow up.

2 things

1. the best line i've heard all week: "we could be apart for 10 years, and you put us in a room and someone's going to get pregnant."

2. i'm ECSTATIC about sleeping with the windows open for the first time in months!! woo hoo!!

dear house of blues

i would like to thank you for taking all the awesome, dirty, rawness of the live music experience and shitting on it by turning your venues into sterile amusement parks.
oh, yes - an amusement park - replete with stands where you can buy beer or "crawfish", stands where you can buy swag for the venue, and even people with cameras coming around to take your photo while the people who are trying to make a living by coming to your establishment to play are relegated to the back-most corner of the room to sell their merch - the thing that feeds those people that are on the road day in and day out to entertain us.

as well, house of blues, i would like to thank you for attracting the houston's finest douchebaggery contingent. dudes with tight, american apparel deep-vs, drunk bottle blondes with scary heels and precarious outfits making out with greasy, gross dudes - people who go to creed concerts and who go to church to network - fuck facebook! god's the ultimate networking tool! thank you for making it all so clean so everyone can be so dirty.

live music should come with a smell - a healthy sweat from jumping around and enjoying the music - a buzz in your head and body from the musical energy - a laughter and just a little bit of healthy fear of the unknown and the willingness to go for it - anything but the sterile air-conditioned grayness that you, house of blues, have made.

at least i got to bask in the awesome raw sex energy of that heartless drummer from afar for a little while. that beautiful man kinda made me forget my disgust for a bit.

question of the day

why doesn't god make people with spencer tracy-like faces anymore?

i could look at someone with a spencer tracy-like face everyday.

YAY!

the "rod stewart" song is on the radio!! thanks walkmen!

i really need a drink.

last observation

for now:

rachel zoe is, quite possibly, the most ridiculous person ever. in every way.

EVER.

some more little observations

1. "wanted" is a pretty fuckin' rad movie. james mcavoy has not disappointed since i fell in love with him as the cad-ish brother in "wimbeldon". yep, i just admitted to seeing that movie.
2. all these new things that can "help" you open your door if you lost your key or something scares the crap out of me. well, it really doesn't since i don't lock my door, but it should scare the crap out of the people that do lock their doors. a hacker can hack the lock to your front door and get in. or you can get a blank key and this "tool" and instantly have a key to a house. and they're advertising this on tv. i think people are high lately.
3. masturbation is over-rated when it's your only outlet. my arms hurt so bad. i haven't wanted to do anything all day except masturbate. i watched a robert mitchum movie this morning and got up out of my chair DRIPPING. seriously. this is killing me.
4. looking forward to houston on thursday. looking forward to houston MORE in a few weeks.
5. "still wearing your fingernails across my shoulders" is probably my favorite line in a song right now.

almost...

i almost called in a "mental health" day today to stay snuggled in bed listening to the rain and basking in the 68 degree weather. you read that right - SIXTY-EIGHT degrees. a full 40 degrees cooler than what the thermometer said 3 weeks ago!!

S.I.X.T.Y. E.I.G.H.T.

WOO!

small observations about today

- "the wedding date" is my favorite movie that i hate. man, dermot mulroney is sex on a stick. the hair on the chest. the voice. the yum.
- "i'd miss you even if i'd never met you" is the girliest line ever. and i love it.
- i shouldn't drink if i haven't eaten all week. even if it is gnarly head cab.
- "serendipity" is the last john cusack movie that i can tolerate. maybe because kate beckinsale is in it. and i still love her from "much ado about nothing". she was so much prettier with an additional 15 lbs. on her.
- sarah parish plays the best supporting role in a "romcom" EVER. she should be in every movie.

robert mitchum is coming next and i have no idea what is going to happen.

oh wait!! one more thing - "the wedding date"? dermot mulroney? that scar above the lip? RAWR!

PS - i'm drunk and about to watch "dirty dancing". look out.

it's official

i am not staying in austin. the decision has just been made. looking at houses here makes me sad and yearn for space. that's my tell-tale sign.

i want to be somewhere with SPACE. space on a vast level. somewhere where i can make a lot of noise and not worry about a neighbor hearing me or complaining.

maybe carlos is right. maybe i'm ready for the desert. or maybe i just want to go to the moon.

is it weird...

that i'm just not hungry anymore? i haven't been hungry since sunday morning. i just want to drink stuff.

i feel like i've been lobotomized.

the dream that i didn't post... until now

i can post this now that i'm off that place and because i know that no one in the dream reads this... thing.

the most overtly sexual dream that probably has nothing to do with sex i've had to date:

i was in my dream home (of course, an adorable craftsman bungalow, no more than 3 bedrooms) with a friend of mine that i haven't met yet. she was like a combination of a lot of girls i know, but no one i know at the same time. we're chilling on the couch chatting - it's my birthday or some kind of celebration for me or something - and she gets me up and says "ok, we're ready".
we go out to the backyard where this pornstar that i've never really found attractive is shirtless and doing something in another part of the yard, kind of flooding it i think, and he comes up to my friend, acknowledges me, takes her over to his project and she starts helping him with it. it feels like they have a little flingy thing. rob is sitting in the corner with something or someone unlikely draped over him preparing to videotape the whole thing. i go to where they're setting up this thing and there's a whole group of people that i feel like i know on a base level, but no one that i know personally. there's a chair-ish thing, kind of like a massage chair meets the "burning man" man on a massage chair scale, in the middle of this puddle and there are 2 people standing at the far end of the yard where the flooding is going. the pornstar and my friend are trying to get them to move, but they are just looking back and not listening. my friend has a ball of red yarn that she's letting into the water and it's turning the water red. she and the pornstar do something, i can't remember what, it feels ritual-y and then she's standing next to me again.
the pornstar starts talking to the rest of the group and instructs all the girls to put on something from this selection of dresses and "fancy fun" clothes he has that have just magically appeared. i see the one i want and i'm instantly in it, not physical getting out of clothes and back into them, and all the other ladies are the same way. i'm in some kind of corset bustier thing with sassy pants on and some girl, i don't know if it's my friend or not, is OBSESSED with my nipples and every few minutes would turn around, scratch my corset top down to get to them and happily start chewing and going to town on them and i liked it, but would just look down at her chuckling.
then the pornstar had an old, dying dog that we were going to ceremonially put to sleep or let die naturally and so they brought it up to this dais that was right next to me, and rob came closer and started filming closer, and they started this little pre-wake, last rights-ish kind of thing for the dog. all i could remember is the pornstar telling rob to get the dog's eyes in the video so they could try and figure out what kind it was because he never knew. and then they started playing old school michael jackson ballads for the dog. everyone starts to disperse and my friend and i are still in the yard but at a further vantage point and i told her that i thought she got the pornstar here to ravage me. she just smiled, laughed and said "he will if you want him to" and i just shook my head and we headed back into the house.
the inside of the house was different now, with a huge great room with no furniture, but the pretty, shiny wood floor was lined against the walls with guitars and stringed instruments of all kinds and there was a line for everyone to grab whatever one they could play because EVERYONE could play something. as i was walking through the house, i see the backs of tan sister radio standing there holding their guitars and they're facing and watching the huge front yard where there's a stage set up. my friend and i RUN outside to see what's up. as we collapse on the perfect patch of grass we see patrick onstage warming up the truckees and hoffee is in the house grabbing this huge sheet that has "truckees" or "rock" or something simple, one-worded and awesome on it in lights and he's running it out to the stage to put it up. the truckees are about to start but they can't for some reason that i can't remember but patrick was explaining it and the reason has to do with hoffee needing to fuck a random chick in the audience with everyone watching. and it's on a table so everyone could purposefully watch. the woman started out being a little plain with glasses and curly hair and feeling like a girl i knew ABOUT but didn't know personally and turned into my friend mid-fuck. it was like a slow morph. and it was just fuck. it was passionless, rote and mechanical like they were required to do it for a school assignment. no kissing, no savoring, no feeling, no fun, just the old in-out. the last thing i remember was her legs up on his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, and he was trying to pry them apart, but it wasn't happening and he got frustrated. and then i woke up.

whoa. is it weird that i think the "friend" that is leading me through the whole dream is a future me?

what ISN'T in there for interpretation??

edited to add: i finally figured out who the pornstar dude is - alex sanders. he's SO gross and not at all my type. but he's the one who was in my dream.

mini-purge

a thought popped into my head that might just get me on-track again with the eating well and exercising in a more consistent manner:

throw out all the clothes that are too big for you that have been sitting in your closet "just in case" you gained the weight back AND just to make it look like you have more clothes than you do.

so i did. i don't have a lot of clothes. i didn't to begin with and i REALLY don't now.

man...

do i feel shitty right now. i can almost hear the heart-broken virgo wailing and thrashing upon receipt of bad news.

flight and car canceled. plan f slowly in motion.

i.

am.

an asshole.

why

is it that josh ritter is the only thing i want to listen to right now? he feels so warm and snuggly and dusty in a good way... all his songs are about trains and motion and they all sound like trains.

stoopid chipmunk-lookin' awesome singer-songwriter dude.

this has never been truer than it is right now.

"i traded all the innocence i ever had for hesitation"

and it makes me more than a little sad.

dramz at the ian moore show!!

tonight ian moore played at the cactus. once every 6 months or so i get treated to an acoustic ian show here and it's ALWAYS awesome. tonight was no exception, except, HE DID NOT PLAY "CINNAMON". i'm going to have words with him about that one. he made up for it with a scorching version of "a change is gonna come" that has inspired me to make this sunday "sam cooke sunday". DAMN.

anyhoo, onto highlights (of the non-musical variety):

ian rambling through a story while mumbling about a song coming to hiim. kullen asking "is it in g?" (from the hand position) ian: "NO! no, g is my safety chord."

telling a story about pearl jam doing a commercial for target:
kullen: "but, you know, target is not walmart"
ian: "true, but you know what bill hicks said about commercials? 'when you do a commercial, you're sucking satan's cock!'"
mac (ian maclagan) from the audience: "how does it taste??"
kullen: "spicy!"

there were many more, but then, 2 songs before the end of the show, ian maclagan and his friend get chewed a new asshole by this angry dude in the audience who 1. obviously doesn't know who ian maclagan is, 2. has NEVER BEEN TO A SHOW BEFORE (i assume because he seemed angry that there wasn't ABSOLUTE SILENCE in the room while the show was going on) and, 3. who came in angry to begin with.
this dude bitches mac out and the slams back in his chair and just starts shoving the bird in his face while "watching the show". mac gave it right back to him while ian is rambling on on-stage about the next song. when the angry dude stormed out is when ian finally figured out something was going on (ah, blissful ignorance) and then the rows all around mac just started chatting up about it and life went on. the last 2 songs were GREAT because angry dude wasn't stewing in front of me anymore.

ah, ian moore. ALWAYS an experience of epic proportions.

wondering

how it is that i'm still not awake even though i make my body move through chilly water for an hour in the mornings.

how the hell else am i supposed to wake up?!

i don't like

texas' new driver's licenses. they're just not... texan. they're so bland. the old ones may have been simple, but they were bold and texan.

http://www.txdps.state.tx.us/director_staff/public_information/pr042209b.htm (my little linking feature isn't working on here. hm.)

and the thing i don't like about this press release?:

"The licenses and ID cards contain numerous security features, which DPS will not discuss publicly."

hellllooooo RFID.

slumpy

slumpy. slump slump slump.
that's what i'm in right now. that's a word that sounds just like it feels. especially when you say it a lot. in your head.

i need to get my ass kicked into gear and get out of this. i just don't feel like taking care of myself right now - that's never a good thing. there's a lot of stuff swirling and i think i'm just letting it all get to me too much.
i should go to yoga tonight, but i probably won't. i should take the weekend and have a knock-down, scrub-out fight with my apartment, but i probably wont. i should go to the hot sauce festival and see the tiny tin hearts and let their twinkliness warm me up, but i probably won't.

i'm not very good at being like this. someone shake me. please.

noticing

4 for the price of 1:

- there is a group of dragonflies that live between my office and the coffee shop. they were out and dancing jauntily this morning on my way there and back. i love that they're always in motion. they should be out everyday to make me happy.
- the cute new lesbian girl at said coffee shop WON'T STOP FLIRTING WITH ME. it's funny.
- someone has named something beautiful and colorful and awesome after me. i cried when they told me and i saw it. for the first time in years.
- i was the only one in the pool for most of my swim this morning. it was tres calming.

here's hoping i find more.

oh. my. jesus.

robert mitchum sure does know how to wear a pair of jeans.

rawr!

i think i'm losing my mind.

i got up this morning, went thought my usual routine - doing the same thing i do everyday. i look down at my bedside lamp, the lamp i've had next to my bed for at least 5 years and saw this:



now, let me give you a close-up (its a little blurry because i'm not a good photographer):



that is a sticker. of a fish. of a cartoon fish. of flounder from "the little mermaid" (affectionately known as "the little turdmaid" in my house). on my lamp.

WHERE THE HELL DID IT COME FROM??? and why haven't i noticed it until now? do i have the ghost of a 6 year old girl in my room who wanted me to know that she was thinking about me? maybe. that would be a nice thought. but until i know, i'm slightly skeeved.

there a bit of the randomness that goes on in my life. daily. it's scary.

wondering

why do i ALWAYS think of rod stewart when i hear the walkmen's "the rat"? my kexp plays it daily. that means i think of rod stewart daily.

it's unhealthy.

swimming stream of consciousness

sweet! no ones here, wakeywakey, mystery dance, elvis costello rocks, lip service, living in paradise, flip turn, drinking with friends that hasn't happened yet, replacement killers, chow yun fat - he was so handsome why'd he let himself get old?, john woo, the big hit, mark wahlberg CAN be funny - geez he takes himself so seriously, people in town, how did it become like high school again?, flip turn, no wonder i don't want to go out, apple burp, tom waits, wiant, fred van vactor, kangaroo lake, ian moore, mac - i hope she comes back healed so we can skate, i should just try the skating on my own, flip turn, wheels and i don't mix, FLIP TURN!, ow, chamois, shorts, flying, stroke, running away, pull, did i just bounce off the wall?, michael jackson, he's awesome and all but i'm over hearing him everywhere, michael vick, this should be interesting.

pondering...

you know what my mind just tripped itself up on? the fact that, were i living in MA around the time of the witch trials, i would have been burned at the stake due to a birthmark that i have - a "witch's teat". oh yes people. and it's very close to the naughty spot. it's just weird to me that people die because of things they can't help. all the time.

this is where my mind wanders off to when it's not challenged and i'm BORED.

realizing...

that the longest commitment i've had to anything ever is with my current car. everyday for 6 years, my darling cindy the civic. well, everyday except those 3 months i didn't leave my house, you remember? you've taken me and my entire life across this great land of ours 3 times. been on countless road trips that exceed 10 hours in length. been there for me through the good times and the bad.

happy birthday darling. here's hoping you last me another 6 years. unless you move me to a climate that requires all-wheel drive. then i might have to trade you for a sally the subaru.

trying...

to completely resist the urge to bust out my credit cards that i just paid off, take a day and a half off of work and jump on a plane.

but the urge is just SO strong. i hate not having flexible hours.

dream

last night tim easton and i were in charge of tutoring a couple of adolescent girls that were part of a bigger group of girls doing something - i can't remember what. tim was still his awesome little lumberjack rockin', songwriting self, but this was like a side gig for him or something? we were great friends and lived together platonically in a house that was right next door to one of the girls and went on our tutoring way. then we found out that she was secretly seeing a boy that lived a few houses away, but no one liked him, so it wasn't ok with everyone else. and her grades started to suffer and tim and i were talking about how to handle the situation - the best way to approach it. we couldn't get a good grip on how to handle it, so we went and talked with a couple of other people that we both knew but i can't place them now for the life of me. it was a long drive through forests to get to these people and we had a long night of conversation and wine and lovely times. they kind of helped and kind of didn't. and on the drive back, tim and i started having romantical feelings for each other.
and then i woke up. before the feelings were acted out in a physical way - THANK GOODNESS. that would have been WAY weird. i love me some tim easton.

i always want interpretations for these darned things. those dream dictionaries don't help at all. :p

thinking

i hope i don't lose the 6 pair of panties i just bought the same way i lost the other 3 that were just like them.

or maybe i do. eek!

wondering

how it is that i came to work in such a boring and mundane job. a job where words so gray and anvil-y as "underwriter", "guaranty", "insurance", "qualification", "bottom line", "closing costs", "MIP fee" and "funding" are every day jargon. where people ask me for "numbers" at the beginning of every month. a job that's so devoid of whimsy in any way. a job where the ONLY way i can explain the utter stupidity of people is to tell myself that they're just being funny - there's no other reason for it. a job where the fluorescent light is draining the soul from me. a job where sales people have to put their information on BRIGHT ORANGE pieces of paper because they KNOW it's the only color we see all day. a job where i have to say, at least 3 times a day at some point "*insert name here* is a golden link in my chain of good" just so i don't shake them to the point of brain damage. a job where i type the same things every day, several times a day - "this file is... and we need the following to continue with the file:"... my brain leaks out my ear a little every time i type something like that. it's draining and makes me feel like a blob.
it's not like this was ever a goal. i didn't go to school for this. i never endeavored to be desk-bound and surrounded by the mortgage equivalent of TPS reports, i've only ever wanted to survive.

i'm so over this boredom and lack of challenge, but i don't know where to go from here. at least my car will be paid off in november and i'll have the freedom to only have to make rent and food for myself. maybe i'll just quit everything and become a bartender somewhere. at least i'll get free drinks. ish.

ida maria - yeah, i'm not even going to try to come up with something clever.

because this girl doesn't need it. FUCK ME she and her awesome band put on a great show. i know it's not hard - they're simple songs, they're simple chord chord chord distortion bridge, but, in my opinion, the simplicity is where the performer is made. if you can make a kick ass show with that simple a formula, then you ARE the consummate performer in my opinion. you don't have anything to hide behind then. the ultimate, unspoken test: you, the audience and your simple songs. and if you can't pull that off, then you're screwed.
besides that, it's a MONDAY NIGHT. who goes to a show and gets crazy on a monday night?!?! apparently austin does for this girl. i was chatting with the bass player after the show and he couldn't believe how amazing the crowd was - especially for a monday night. i told him that it isn't always like that. i love it when people can wow other people.

as i write this, i'm still salty and sweaty - glasvegas didn't impress me enough to stay past 3 songs - sorry! they're essentially interpol and the killers having a scottish baby. i just didn't feel it. maybe their one album is better? and i didn't dig that they were kind of hiding behind their light show.

i think i love her more because i knew, the minute she stepped on stage, that she was me if i could sing and write songs. she is the kind of performer i'd be, only i'd be better. *grin*

RANDOM... randomness

about a year ago, i worked for a company where their corporate headquarters were in tulsa, but i worked in a branch in austin. everything was in tulsa including tech support. and since i was the most tech savvy one there (which should tell you everything you need to know) i got on pretty good terms with the tech dude living in tulsa. hell, everywhere i go i get on great terms with the tech dudes.
nerds are SO easy.

well, it got to a point, since i'm a HUGE tease (ha!), where he just randomly started sending me... uhm... stuff. like pictures and stuff and stuff that I DID NOT ASK FOR. and it wasn't pretty. and it was a little freaky. but HILARIOUS. i was torn as to how to feel about this because i couldn't stop laughing.
example: he sent a picture where he's outside, naked, standing in a tunnel. and it's obvious that someone else took this picture for him. it was like a school portrait, but he was naked. and had a "third leg". well, i couldn't tell if it was really that big or if it was an optical illusion because he was so short. and there is nothing attractive about this dude. and it was all just kind of grossly funny. and i kind of just left it - no encouragement, no nothing.

WELL, today, for whatever reason, he just popped up on my im and started talking. RANDOM. i really hope he doesn't start up where he left off. i'm even slightly uncomfortable with the idea of talking to him again. because he thinks that, were we to meet in person, "something" would happen. which it wouldn't. EVER. and i'm really bad at letting people down.

WEIRD!

southern* heat

we all bitch about it at one point or another - the stifling heat. the overwhelming heat. the heat the humidity the heat and, oh yeah, THE HOT HEAT.
and yes, while i complain about it too, i don't think i could do without it on a periodic basis. were i to move to somewhere with a "pleasant" summer, i would still visit here just to kick my own ass.

when it comes right down to it, there are a great many things i love about this place in the summer.
i love that august and september mean dragonflies and fireflies come out to play. i saw no less than 5 dragonflies yesterday!
i love that i can take a walk around the neighborhood and smell EVERYTHING. and i mean everything. the grass. the dirt. the rocks. the asphalt. the flowers. the trees. the houses. the animals. the people. and then the combinations of those things. it's a cacophony of smells! my nose dances a lusty jig in the din of aromatic pleasures! i can't imagine these smells being able to travel through cool air.
i love the lust that comes with southern* summers too. i think it's because people here give up on trying to cover the sweat or scent because you just get yourself hotter trying to do something about it. and that makes room for pheromones galore to romp and play and get people going. and since you're already sweaty and sticky, you don't hold back in getting more so. i makes the whole dance less refined - much more to my liking. and, let me just say, some of the most libidinous dudes i've ever met were southern. or had soaked up several southern summers if they weren't natives.
it makes you let go and gear up all at the same time.

not to say i don't hole up in my apartment with cartons of ice cream, shaved ice, tons of iced tea and the ac at 80 a lot of the time, but i definitely drive with the windows down and do what i can to soak up this stuff while it's around.

yay summer! i totally won't miss you until february! *grin*

* - i use southern loosely because i still don't feel that texas is the south. or at least not the south that i know and grew up with. i almost put it in quotes, but decided against it.

dear ian moore band

it could be dangerous if i continue to do merch for you in austin. dangerous in the "totally rad adventures this way come" way.
i've already committed myself to trying roller derby and it's all your fault.

i'm not saying, i'm just saying.

look who wants to stir the shit...

i saw this quote today and i'm kinda in love with it:

"If one understands that Socialism is not a “share the wealth” program but is in reality a method to consolidate and control the wealth, then the seeming paradox of super rich men promoting Socialism becomes no paradox at all. Instead it becomes logical, even the perfect tool of power-seeking megalomaniacs. Communism, or more accurately Socialism, is not a movement of the down-trodden masses but of the economic elite." - Gary Allen

sure, it sounds paraniod... or it could sound smart and logical - it's all in how you look at it.

thinking

joel mccrae had pretty feet.

preventative measures

for future reference, the way to prevent a hangover from nature's cramping and raspberry margaritas is as follows:

ovaltine and a HEB sleepytime pill -> pass-out = no hangover and great feelings in the morning.

ps - ian moore tonight will be interesting.

prediction... if

if i lived in a place that had entenmann's cream cheese coffee cake AND thin mint ice cream, i would be home right now stuffing my face - eating every last inch of both items while watching "ride the high country" and promptly having my body reject all the sugar via vomit vomit vomit. then i would set the thermostat for 65 degrees and crawl into my downy cave with a few HEB sleepytime pills.

that sounds like the happiest thing in the world right now.

thank goodness for alcohol.

blackout

living in texas, one is always on the look-out for ways to keep cool in the summer. there is a constant quest for chillows and "personal coolers", ice cream, cold beverages, cold food - anything that will keep you cooled down a little.

with all these cooling options available, i've been pretty content, with my sole gripe about the summers being sleeping in on the weekends.
during the week, i wake up before the sun tops the trees, so i don't get direct sunlight in my room (the only room in my place that has an eastern-facing window) until i've blown that joint for the day.
the weekends are another story. i relish being able to sleep in until a double-digit hour is showing on my clock, which means that the sun is coming up on full power and shining through my nice little east window. while the ac is on, the thermostat is in a room where it's significantly cooler than my room at the heat of the morning and it gets pretty uncomfortable in there, so i decided to invest in a set of blackout curtains to see if it would help with the late morning sleep-ins. while i haven't had a chance to test the late morning sleep-in part - that will be for this weekend - it has made a significant difference at night already. it's SO dark and quiet in there now that i think it's making it harder for me to get to sleep. it's kind of frustrating. well, my inherent weirdness about the whole thing is kind of frustrating. GAH!

**UPDATE: first weekend with blackout curtains = perfect! but i had a lot to help me sleep besides. hm**

frustrated

that i can't figure out how to start my blog about new mexico. i'm not one of those people that can write some of it and then add something at the top, i need a genesis for it all to flow from.

maybe hot yoga will sweat it out of me.

thinking...

i would very much like to look like diane lane when i get to be her age.

hell, i would very much like to look like her right now. dang. she's pretty.

i think i just figgered something out!

i was standing at stove this morning, making my usual breakfast, basking in a post-painting think pod.
i was wondering why it is that the painting comes so slowly and sporadically for me. why, when i can bust out some mean paper crafts or knit something like nobody's business, does the painting gloop out like molasses in the winter? why it is, to get something started with paint and a canvas, it's like breaking through a wall of jelly that's been in the fridge for too long?

then i realized: art (for me) is following your own instructions or following no instructions at all.

things like knitting and paper crafts and sewing are inherently instructional - instructions that other people have already figured out. sew a straight line to get this hem. purl, purl, knit, yarn over to get this look on a stitch, fold the paper this way to get this animal. but paint to canvas... you make your own instructions. you decide what color or shape or stroke will translate what is in your brain to what wants to come out onto the canvas.
all my life, i've been living under some kind of instruction handed out by others. i might have manipulated those instructions to get the result i wanted, but there were still "guidelines". this is totally free of that and, up until a little while ago, that seriously intimidated and crippled whatever is/was in me. hell, it still does, but now it just feels right to dive into it and swim around in that intimidation to see what it can do to me.

after careful observation, i've noted that once i break through that wall of jelly, whatever needs to come out, comes out fast and furious (ha!), but until then, i fidget and squirm and it's a weird - oddly physical - struggle to let it out. i thought i would need some licker of some kind to get me going last night, but when i couldn't get the pernod open after 10 minutes and removing the top layer of skin from my hands, i gave up on that and said, FUCK IT! I CAN DO THIS BY MYSELF! i sat there, listening to mink deville and tried to take my time (that is HARD) and it started coming out. ALL BY ITSELF. yay!

i think that, once i get comfortable with the no instruction, guideline or structure, this painting stuff is going to come out a lot faster and easier. i'm not saying it's good, but at least it'll get out. hm.

thinking...

i know i posted this big whole long rant a couple of weeks ago about "it" being all "worth it" and stuff, and while that's how i was feeling then and i definitely needed the catharsis of letting that out, i'm re-thinking and feeling differently now.

i am pretty in love with the family i've gathered throughout the years. especially due to that cuntie darling, steve. i can't believe the sheer amount and force of the creative, sweet, hilarious, talented and wonderful people that surround this guy and that i've had the honor and pleasure to meet. i hope some of it rubs off on me someday.

i think this new-found appreciation also came along when i realized that it's easier to love and appreciate this when you aren't expecting anything in return - seeing things and people and situations at face value because there are a LOT more incredibly rad people out there than we give credit for. you just hear about the shitty people more because they make "better news".

i just needed to get that out. now onto our regularly scheduled programming.

i have a feeling...

that the following words will be said at some time, by some person this weekend:

"my toe stand is a hot mess."

oddly, this makes me even more excited for the weekend.

carrot interrupted.

so, today i had what one would call a "breakdown" at work. in front of everyone. on my drive home for lunch, it turned into a "meltdown" because i started thinking on a lot of things, but mainly that i couldn't think of one valid reason that i deal with the crap i do on a daily basis. the question of the day then popped into my head:

"is it worth it?"

and then, a follow-up question that saddened me even more popped into my head:

"what is this "it" that all of this is supposed to be worth?"

i don't mean this in some deep, metaphysical, metaphorical, meditative kind of way. i mean, i want a hard, tangible answer to this question.
for some lucky bastards, their "it" is their work. i would give anything to fall into this category. for others, it's love (as dopey as it sounds), or their kids and family... money... power... glory... fame... to be "remembered" when they're gone... drugs and drink, or simply the pursuit of some or all of the things mentioned.

i don't know what my "it" is. i don't even know what category it would even vaguely fall into and that poses a problem. i don't have any of the things/feelings/situations mentioned above and i don't feel like i ever will really and that makes me feel pretty empty and, really, fucking sad as shit.

love isn't my "it". i've tried it and realized that i love takers. loving takers is draining and unfulfilling because there is literally no replenishment. of spirit. of life. of love. of reason. of anything.

my work. i do a job everyday that i'm good at but i have no passion for and i don't enjoy. i do it because it pays the bills, but just barely. it lets me maintain an existence. it doesn't help me expand or broaden an existence, it doesn't allow me new and fulfilling experiences, it doesn't challenge me and i don't grow from it. it simply sustains the meager existence i'm living now.
if i had something i was passionate about, that i loved doing, that fulfilled me and challenged me, that would be one thing - i could rationalize working a job like mine because it would allow me to do my "it".
if i had someone who lived in my town that i liked to spend time with and travel with and have experiences of any kind with, i could rationalize this job because i would be working to spend time with people i enjoy on a frequent basis.
as it is, i have nothing like that. nothing to rationalize my dealing with this shit on a day-to-day basis. and i don't have anyone who's chest i can bury my face in and vent/cry about this. i don't have anyone to stroke my hair and tell me that it's going to work out, however it's going to work out.

and it truly hit me today that i don't have an "it" for anything to be worth. or so it feels. some may say that i've got friends - which i do, great ones, that i see only 2-3 times a year, if that. is the interim 360 times that i don't see them worth it? or the times that i need someone physically right here and right now worth it? it doesn't feel like it at this point. i've pushed on alone for so long hoping that there's a reason for it and i'm so tired of trying and pushing and feeling like i'm forcing my way through my day, my week, month... whatever slice of time you want to put in there. it doesn't feel like this struggle is going to end anytime soon either.
the trouble with all this is, i don't have anything with which to remedy this situation. i feel so lost and alone right now - not in the "i'm the only one who's ever gone through this so no one can understand" kind of way, but in the "is this ever going to fucking end and why won't anyone help me out of it?!" kind of way. it feels like this rosy veil has been lifted and i'm seeing things as they really are for me and it's not pretty. i truly do live a dreary existence - wake up, swim (an inherently solo sport), work for 9 hours taking care of people who will never take care of me, yoga (another inherently solo venture), go home, eat, watch a movie and go to sleep only to do it all over again the next day. there isn't a hug in there anywhere. there isn't a smile, there isn't warmth or human touch, it just is. and i think to myself, "i work to maintain THIS???! everyday??"

i don't know where this is coming from. it's not a pity party. it just is what it is and it's pretty disheartening and depressing. everyone deserves to have a hug everyday if they want one.

my imaginary dangling carrot has disappeared. i hate this.

the devil is in the details

as is the case with memphis as i noticed while i was on my 5 hour walk of the town today.
from my hotel, it's about a half a mile through town until i get to the "developed" part of town... the peabody, peabody place, beale street, etc. until you get there though, it's a half mile of gorgeous building that are abandoned. gorgeous buildings with broken and boarded-up windows. gorgeous buildings that need just the smallest amount of attention and they can be breathtaking, beautiful, useable jewels again. then you get out of this 5 (maybe) block radius of "developed" town and it's back to dilapidated buildings, empty lots, lots of low industrial buildings, etc. no matter what part i was walking in, i was greeted with nothing but genuine cordiality, true southern hospitality. from dudes working. from people on their breaks. from people who are from here and will stay here and will persevere through whatever happens in this town.

there is a soft energy around this town that isn't perceptible unless you're looking for it. it's a town on the edge of SOMETHING but no one can tell you what. this thing that's going to happen, it's either going to be really great or really bad and everyone here is waiting for it because there's nothing you can do until you see what it's going to be. they're ready to strike whether is a good or bad thing. and because of that, i sincerely hope that it's great. if i had my way, i would LOVE to be apart of what's going to happen, if it falls to the positive, wonderful side of things.
from my extremely limited experience here, this town has 5 things going for it that i can see: fedex, this 2 block piece of corporate hell called beale street, the history, graceland and the people. the last item is really what is going to make of break this place when whatever happens, happens.
this place also has a lot to overcome - from my end alone, i know there is a MAJOR home foreclosure issue here that rivals california, florida and chicago. enough that this is one of 6 places in the country that we WON'T lend because the foreclosure scene is so prevalent. and, again from my field of knowledge, i've noticed that there aren't any credit unions here - just banks. even a federal reserve bank branch (SKEEVEY EVILNESS!). i know that seems like a little thing, but, historically, credit unions are harbingers of good and bolster local economies. they're all about keeping everything local and giving back to their communities. banks are takers and energy suckers in a lot of ways.
there is so much potential here. and potential to make it something wonderful. not something corporate, not something yuppie, not something hipster, not something "expected". this place can be magic - it's brimming at the surface, someone or something just needs to break it open.

i came here mainly because i wanted a long drive, wanted to get out of texas, but needed to be back by monday morning for work. i think i accomplished that and fell in love with the potential of a town. look who's a multi-tasker!

swimming

why the heck did i stop for so long??? for the past month and a half i haven't been - i've been on the hot yoga track - and i just went this morning and i fuckin' rock at it and i feel great!

wednesday is going to be the true test of rockin'-ness, but i effin' nailed it this morning! it makes me feel like i'm going to have a kick-ass day! i should bookmark this blog entry and read it when i need motivation to keep going.

yay endorphins!

the painfully obvious

this is for all the people who ask me if i'm seeing anyone when i talk to them:
i just got told that i attract my dad AND what i want in dudes. and since i want my freedom and to be left alone sometimes, i get that. in my dad. my dad who was just around to eat and sleep and watch movies or pensacola: wings of gold. so i'm attracting dudes that leave me alone, kind of counterproductive. meh.
and i just thought back on a few from the past few years and it's pretty effin' true. one of them even looked eerily like my dad did at that age.

would you want to see anyone when you're working with that?

FREAKY.

atoms are forming on the window pane

i don't want to go totally into last night's dream, but i think i need to get one thing down for posterity and in case i need it at a later time:

"atoms are forming on the window pane"

that was before the yelling happened.

noticing

i've met a lot of ladies lately that say they don't "do" oral. and then make a disgusted face about it.

REALLY??!

i mean, that's something i LOVE to do. and i'm not just saying that. now, i understand that i don't have the same sexual appetite as a lot of people out there, but to be DISGUSTED by the thought? and it's SO limiting and closed minded!
i know that i have to temper it and i learned the hard way that i need to have them be the giver first before i slap some cock in my mouth or it's going to be a never ending spiral of one-sided giving, but i can't imagine being disgusted by the thought.

dudes out there, i feel sorry for you if you meet the ladies i've met lately who "just don't do that". what a sad existence for your cock. i know some dudes who don't reciprocate, but i don't fuck them. as a matter of fact, it's one of the first questions i ask when i meet someone that i might want to do: "do you go diving at the Y?" if the answer is no, then my answer is no. full stop.

besides the physical parts of it, there are so many other implications that go along with NOT doing that. i could go on and on about that, but i won't. i just wanted to make my truly sad observation. *sigh*

thinking

this weekend is exactly what i needed. i got D.I.R.T.Y. - like christina aguilera wearing assless chaps in a mud wrestling ring dirty. i'm kinda tore up. and i feel invigorated.

here's hoping for more just like it.

pondering

why do i sometimes get this bug up my butt about wanting to know what's going on with people from my past lives? i've known some rad people and then had to give them up for the good of the situation. there's a reason they're in my past.
i got just such a bug and started "facebooking" them (i can't believe i just used that as a verb) and found some of them. and they're sprogged up. ALL OF THEM. and not just one little sproglet. a TRIBE of sprogs all of them have. it's so weird to think of these people as parents. i really could only imagine one of them as a parent and even the thought of him as a parent was stretching it.

then i start wondering why the thought of a conventionally "normal" life is so weird to me. it makes me think i was put together wrong. rather, it makes me think of baby tomato plants. you know how you're supposed to guide them along a stake in the garden until they get their footing and can wind up the stake on their own? i don't think i was pointed toward the "normal" stake. i don't think i was pointed toward a stake at all, i was just left to see what i could grab onto. i like what i've found, but there are times (VERY few times) where i wonder what my life would be like if i had been pointed toward that "normal" stake. hm.

thinking

i'm addicted to sweet leaf pomegranate green tea.

i wish i could buy it in jugs.

my dreams are funny

so, i had this dream last night that included a lot of stuff that i don't remember now - the only part that i remember is the following:

i was lying in a hospital bed and 2 nurses were patting my face trying to revive me - as though i had passed out or something - and one of them was holding a newborn baby. as soon as i fully woke up, that thing attached to my boob to start breast-feeding. and it was one of those moments like the movies where everything starts moving in fast-forward motion and all these feelings and thoughts come flooding back to you. i felt like i was getting washed away by a heavy tide.
i knew that i was the biological mother, but that i wasn't going to be the mom, so i started pushing it away and wriggling to get it off me going "NOOOOOOO!!!" the whole time. i even remember saying that i didn't want it to eat from me because i didn't want to bond with it and didn't want it to bond with me because i wasn't going to be the mommy.

and for the first time ever (without having a leg cramp) i actually woke up "abruptly" from a dream. now, the reason this is funny: i go to these dream dictionaries to see what breast-feeding means and then i was just going to negate it and that's what the dream is supposed to mean, right? well, here's what it means:
"To dream that you are breast feeding, symbolizes tenderness, love, nurturance, and motherly love. Good things will be at your grasp. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you need to be careful in who you confide in."

so, were i to use this definition, i would be pushing love away. HA! this is so me. like i needed to be reminded that this is what i do.

idiots.

clarity!

at least for the issue at hand for me. this just means no house. and it *hopefully* means i'm not going to be in this office this time next year. it means a lot of saving. it means maybe not coming back here as soon as i expect. i feel a lot of fun and learning. i feel like i might actually be able to run away.
maybe some freakishly tall and sterile dutch man will sweep me off my feet with his square face, dark hair, light eyes and brain full of logic. maybe some normal height, broad, dark, greek fisherman will win me over with his smelliness and light-hearted hilarity. maybe i will meet the most giant japanese man who will try and be my sugar-daddy. but, i feel in my gut that it will be the predictable for me: burly irish fella with dark, curly hair and twinkling eyes and an always smiling, laughing face will roll over me and take me away without my even knowing it.
and the ladies! i can't even IMAGINE the awesome chicks i'm going to meet.
all of these thoughts are going to get me through the scraping i'm going to have to do over the next year. WOO HOO!

tiny breakthrough

it only took 30 years, but i think my mom is finally starting to understand a little bit where i'm coming from with something in my life. she actually said something i needed to hear and helped put some stuff into perspective.

little victories. i'll take the little victories.

i also hate...

when my customer service calls get routed to india. they're not helpful and, well...

PEOPLE HERE NEED FUCKING JOBS. GIVE THE PEOPLE HERE JOBS SO I DON'T HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF 14 TIMES!!!

i'm all for helping other countries out and hooking them up with jobs, but we really need to take care of ourselves first. it's like any relationship - you can't be any good in a relationship unless you take care of yourself first.

soooooo frustrating.

thinking...

i am low low low.

L

O

W

.

i need someone besides me to kick my ass out of this rut.

open to suggestions...

i must be pmsing because i usually don't get "emotional" about this stuff, but... let me put this right on out there: i live a really lonesome existence. i know that 99.9999% of this i've cultivated and i've been pretty ok with it up until the past couple months. it's comfortable and manageable for me to be this way. i know how to be this way.
well, i'm tired of it now and i don't know how to fix this mess. i'm a master of meeting people and keeping them at an arms length. all the people that i LOVE i keep further away (physical distance only), worried that if they were closer, i wouldn't love them the way that i do. i don't know how to turn that page to become closer friends with people that live in the same town. yeah, it's as weird as it sounds.

usually, when i get this way, i'd just move on to another town and let the drama of that change encompass me for the next period of time until this feeling washed over me again and then repeat. but, i really like austin and there really isn't another place that jumps out at me right now as the "right" place to be besides here. i'm starting to like texas even. not to the point that i'd move elsewhere in the state to live, but i'm definitely learning to appreciate it.
i like the people that i've met here. a lot. 95% of them are awesome, but super-busy chicks (because they're awesome) that i would love to spend more time with and get closer to, but i feel like i'm imposing on their tiny amount of free time were i to suggest that we go out sometime.
granted, i've also met people that i don't want to spend more time with, but i appreciate them as acquaintances - i see them just enough. and wouldn't you know it, they're the ones that have the time and that i would be able to say "hey, let's go get a drink tonight" to and they'd accept. but they're not the people that i want to spend MORE time with. it's a stupid twisted circle.

i don't know what to do to remedy this situation. people say "go out more". well, i go out fairly frequently and on my own because of the situation above - how many of you would talk to some random girl that goes out on her own?? i'm starting to see how intimidating that is for most people. what does the random girl out on her own say to someone - especially to someone in a group/pair setting which is how most people here go out - to start a conversation and not have it be awkward or weird or imposing? people don't naturally gravitate toward me and i'm not a good opener. i'm a GREAT closer, but i suck pretty hard at initiating conversation with people.

it really struck me today with all the birthday celebrations going on lately. i've decided that the leonard cohen show on my birthday was the best thing that could have happened for me because, if there wasn't a show going on, i would have been alone with not a soul to call in town to have dinner or a drink with on my birthday. that heavy clank you just heard? that's the anvil of loneliness clanking down on my head and splooshing my brain everywhere. it's a horrible feeling to not have a local "emergency contact". *smile*

this isn't something i want sympathy for - it is what it is, i know that. this is something i want a SOLUTION for. and i just don't know where to start. and the idea of having no idea is really overwhelming. it doesn't help that i really am a painfully shy person at heart. GAH!

dream

i had a dream this morning that mike doughty was staying in my spare bedroom. i gave him a blow-up bed and blankets figuring he'd know what to do with them. when i went in to check in on him, he had the bed laid out flat and deflated with the blankets in top of it, intending to sleep like that. while getting him blown up, this woman came in furious that jon dee graham was wandering around in my backyard. so furious that she got some peanut m&ms and bit something out of them and intended to get him the hell out of there. like the biting the m&m made it explosive or something. she goes to the backyard and comes back because he'd already left but, while she was out there, she saw lance armstrong sitting on top of my porch cover, just chillin', looking like he'd just finished his nightly bike ride. she didn't say anything to him, but came inside and ranted to me about it - she wouldn't shut-up. lance saw this through mike's window and stood up and walked back up these wooden, white-washed stairs that randomly led from his backyard to my porch top. then i woke up.

this is a lot of dream for someone who didn't get a lot of sleep. why do i name-drop so much in dreams? hm.

thinking

i might be falling in love with henry miller all over again - from a totally different perspective.
i love his liberal use of the word "cunt" and i love the way he conjugates it. well, i consider it liberal, but someone who isn't as completely enchanted with the word as i am may say that overuse may be a better word.
granted, he's not for everyone. he switches from mini-plot to stream-of-consciousness without the slightest hesitation or warning which might throw a lot of people off. he has seemingly unflowery moments, but what they really are are flowery moments on unflowery topics. i like that he tells it like it is and doesn't beat around the bush, he just fucks you with it.

i think he's making me a word drunk.

thinking

there's this horrible clicking on my work phone that is random and painful.

i think that "they" are trying to brain-wash me using morse code. DAMMIT!

it has gotten bad enough...

that the landlord has been called. the cat poop in the ac smell that is. it BURNS MY SINUSES WHEN I BREATHE. i hope he can fix it.

this is the first time i've had to call a landlord for anything and i feel weiird about it, but i'm not going to live through a texas summer with this smell. i might get toxoplasmosis. HA!

noticing

last night at the video store, i saw a man who was directly in the middle of cute, handsome and "come eat me NOW".

MEOW!

thinking... musically

i've been neglecting you darling! it's been a little crazy at work and i've only wanted to escape at home, so you've been left by the way-side.

anyhoo, i'm listening to the new wilco like 3/4ths of the hipster population of austin is right now. let me be honest here, i've not listened to a LICK of wilco before. i just know of them, well, because people don't ever stop talking about them. i kind of feel bad about it now too. musically, this is right up my alley. if i astral-projected into someone else who listened to these guys and met me knowing my love of music, i would slap me for not listening to them before.
BUT, i'm not really feelin' it. from listening to this album ONLY, i kind of feel like they're the radiohead of alt-country/americana - so full of themselves that they can't stand it and wholly lacking in a sense of humor. these guys sound really jayhawks-ish. am i remembering correctly that one is an off-shoot of another? and uncle tupelo is in this mix somewhere, right? it's all one big, incestuous, americana love-fest... with no joy on the inside.

i could be totally wrong about this. maybe i need to listen to these guys in the car. maybe i need to listen to them on shuffle. i dunno, but they're not doin' it for me right now.

i'm totally open to album suggestions that might sway me.

thinking

i feel like i may just have a banner year this year. a banner year of fucking. i know i'm getting a late start, but i'm all about making up for lost time.

here's hoping i'm right.

swimming...

sucked sweaty monkey balls today. and not because i have treated my body like crap this weekend, which could have been a valid excuse, but because people are inconsiderate assholes.
this woman got in my lane while i was swimming and just STOOD in front of me. wasn't moving. in the middle of the lane. if i weren't paying attention (as i shouldn't be during an ideal swim) i would have run smack into her. as it was, i stood up in front of her mid-stride and she gave me this horrified look like WHY WAS I IN HER FUCKING LANE?!?!?

that was only the straw that broke the camel's back during the swim today.

i just want my water and black line. i don't want to have to think of anything else but that black line. dammit.

swimming

was easy this morning. the water was light and gauzy in a neat way. like swimming through a silvery, black-fairy forest.

mobile

i bought this overly-large, meant-for-the-outdoors mobile about a month and a half ago. when i put it up in my bedroom, it was a LOT bigger than i thought it was and i just didn't like it there, but i left it up to see if it would grow on me. for the 3 weekends following, i intended to take it down and figure out another use for it. then i just forgot about it. but it's so large that you can't help but know its there.

just now i looked up at it from bed and said, "i can't believe you're still there. you don't get in my way and you haven't annoyed me enough yet for me to get rid of you. you're like the perfect boy."

thinking

i shouldn't have gotten out of bed today.

i need thin mint ice cream and a which wich.

what the hell??

why haven't i read this before? how does this guy know how to put into words how i feel about LIFE (as cheeseily dramatic as it sounds)??

"... it's as though one had actually died and actually been resurrected again; one lives a supernormal life, like the chinese. that is to say, one is unnaturally gay, unnaturally healthy, unnaturally indifferent. the tragic sense is gone...
loneliness is abolished, because all values, your own included, are destroyed. sympathy alone flourishes, but it's not a human sympathy, a limited sympathy - it is something monstrous and evil. you care so little that you can afford to sacrifice yourself for anything or anybody. at the same time your interest, your curiosity, develops at an outrageous pace."

its always been hard for me to get across to people how i feel about how i live my life in general and this NAILS IT ON THE HEAD. i'm not saying its for everyone and i'm not saying its necessarily even good for me - the explanation may seem a little harsh, but it's honest and aptly descriptive. that's how i'd explain it now. the underlined parts most.

dream...

...starring chuck prophet.
time: now. setting: i'm at a concert in a random field - tim easton is playing with his band - and i'm talking to this canadian dude about everything and nothing. i only know he's canadian because he looks like a mountain man and says "aboot" and he just has a sense of being canadian. there aren't a lot of people there, but when i'm done talking to the canadian dude, i noticed that more people had showed up. more people like lou, steve, john doe and chuck prophet amongst others (that i couldn't put names with).
john doe had a bushy beard and was still hot and was standing in front of the "barricade" that separated the band from the crowd (it was a loose rope) like he was going to sing some stuff with them, but he didn't. chuck was somewhere behind me in the crowd. lou was talking with chuck. steve popped up beside me and i asked him what he was doing there and how long he was going to be around - he said he was doing some children's benefit something or other and that he was only in town for that day. and then i told him that john doe was up there and steve said "he's so hot" dreamily.
then the show was over and i find lou. he and chuck are talking in this tent and i just saddle-up beside lou and listen to what they're talking about. they're talking like they've known each other for years - like lou always does with people. i ask chuck if he's in town for his show and he says yes, but then i think to myself "that's not until next week." then i ask if he's here the whole time and he said yes and i left it at that. then we leave the tent and chuck, being the gangly "stretch armstrong-ish" dude he his, hits his head on the top of the tent and is kind of fidgeting to get out of there. then lou has to go somewhere and chuck grabs my hand and pulls me running into this field with a huge swing-set. the swing set is odd because it has a couple of normal swings on it, but on either end, there are these ribbon/rope swings where you are swinging on them from your feet, but in a good way. so chuck takes off all his clothes and gets on one end of the feet swing and starts swinging so high. then, not one to let anyone feel singled out for being naked, i take off all my clothes, watch him swing a little bit more and then i get on the feet swing on the other end and just soar through the air and twist and spin and just fly real real high - full of laughs and smiles and fun - this was happy flying. it was awesome! then, when i was at a peak i noticed little dots of people below - i got the sense they were kids - and then i get a fade out.
fade back in to me and tori at my house getting my mail. for some reason i share a mailbox with one other person and the mailman punches a hole in all my mail so we know who's mail is who's. in the mailbox, there are all these empty, folded up bags from fancy places, all with holes punched in them, marked "paris". i seem to know what these are and i roll my eyes and say, "why does steve always send me empty bags from paris? always empty bags. why can't he send me chocolates? just once, chocolates from paris?" and then i woke up.

anyone care to interpret?

thinking

i might be slightly psychic. seriously. things are getting weird.

fuuuuuuuuuck....

how does my iTunes know when the truckees should come on?? dammit!!

ps - i'm drunk.

PEOPLE!!

i'm fairly certain that "soylent green" has been firmly planted in my top 10 movies ever. WHOA.

whoa.

wanting

i don't want to be at work right now - i want to go home. on the way, i want to stop by hobby lobby and get a couple of medium canvases and some more paint and then stop at the licker store and pick up a bottle of pernod.
then, when i get home, i want to take a nap for about an hour or so, go to hot yoga, take a cold shower, chill-out and start chugging some pernod (that ain't no sipping licker). then i want to get all licorice-y and start painting.

i want to do this NOW. not this weekend. NOW.

violently opposed...

...to ranch-style houses. yep, that's what i sussed out of my trip to california last weekend. i am VIOLENTLY OPPOSED to ranch-style houses... and PUDs. to the point where, if - when i start to look for a home here in austin (another blog for another time) - my realtor shows me a ranch-style house thinking i would want to live there, i'm going to kick them so hard their grandchildren will feel it.
it will be one of my few requirements for a house: no ranch-style, no PUD, yes to a porch and yes to a hidden tunnel filled with elves that make delicious ice cream all day long. for free.

nan - i hope you're reading this because i don't want to have to kick you. i'm 150% sure you could take me.

thinking

i do NOT get paid to tell people "no". grrrr.

thinking

should i be worried that my printer is smoking? it's not obvious smoke and it doesn't smell, but... it's smoking.

it's a good thing i'm good at fighting fires.

the most horribly offensive...

...rental car EVER. the dodge calibur. in electric blue.

i walk into the alamo office on thursday night and do the whole "self check-in" thing because i really didn't feel like talking to other people. i had requested a compact car. i was hoping for something inconspicuous and asian. what i got looked like a 4 year old colored a (non-compact) box with a blue highlighter and someone took it apart and made a a car out of it.
besides that, it smelled like ass. it smelled like someone had really fucked-up the inside and they tried to cover up the smell, but what they used just made it worse. and the smell seeped into everything. so i smelled like that rental car all weekend.
it has a jerky drive and is loud and gargantuan and has super-limited visual space. as in, they were so concerned with making as many corners as they could on this car that it made the windshield and windows smaller. this car is the opposite of compact. which wouldn't have been so bad if i didn't have to park in l.a.
i saw people driving these things all weekend and i really hoped they just got the short-end of the rental car stick like i did because i don't want to know the people who VOLUNTARILY BUY this p.o.s. car.

end rant.

yes and no

you know, you've said no to me so many times now that it makes my whole body think you're only going to continue to say no to me or give me some lame excuse as to why you "have" say no to me *insert rolley eyes here*, that i can't even picture you saying yes anymore. that's HORRIBLE. i have this overwhelming feeling that i'm going to get a no. AGAIN. and i've been feeling it since tuesday. and i can't shake it. and i need to shake it because it breaks my heart.
i need to be able to picture you saying yes because that's the only way it's going to happen. i can force through thoughts of yes, but they get washed over almost immediately with the inevitable no. to the point where i picture myself walking out to the beach and throwing stones on the cliffs, hoping they'll break because i need the catharsis of seeing something break due to my own actions.

christ! when am i going to be done with this?

they grow up so... fast?

i just saw a child that didn't look like a child. he looked like a very small adult. even his body - no baby fat or cuddliness - and stature. he wasn't a "little person", but he just did not have a child-like quality about him. he couldn't have been more than 3 or 4.

strange. it was strange in a wonderful (in the full of wonder) kind of way. and obviously notable enough for me to feel like writing about it.

thinking...

all this activity i'm making myself do (gladly) is mellowing me out a little.

example: i go to class about 30 minutes early because i can be persnickety about my spot. i really like the spot i have and i claim it early because it's mine. tonight, some new ASSHOLE moved my stuff while i was hanging out because they wanted my spot. i go in, my stuff is moved, i lie down and just start fuming about it - silently of course because you CAN'T SAY ANYTHING IN CLASS. that's the one thing that just pisses me off about people - that they don't even THINK before doing stuff. i am the queen of having shitty stuff happen to me because others aren't considerate. i try to think of being inconsiderate and i can't. it's just not in my nature. always to a fault. they tell you the fucking rules before you even walk in motherfuckers!
i start picturing this smelly pirate hooker's head smashed into little bone pieces by my angry fists, her blood from my exertions coloring the floor red and squishing my feet around in her bodily fluids and brains that have seeped into the carpet and i worry that i'm going to have a bad class.
turns out, just after the beginning of class, i totally forgot about her and zoom right on in. i had a GREAT fucking class. i smiled genuinely the whole time. that wouldn't have happened this time last year. i would have had a shitty class and still been angry at the end and then i would have gotten angry at myself for being angry because EVERYONE is an asshole sometimes, maybe today was just her day.

so, this whole "taking care of myself" crap is finally starting to show some results. thanks ovaltine!

social networking etiquette

i'm not very good at the social networking thing, let's be honest here. so i have a scenario that i don't know what to do with:

say you have a "friend" on one of these sites. it's someone you met once - maybe twice - and you knew the crazy was there because you could just feel it, but you never thought you'd be the recipient of the crazy, so you went ahead and added them in total innocence. flash forward a bit and you find you ARE the recipient a little of the crazy.
you can't delete them as a friend because the crazy will become worse - you just don't have to see it as much, although the internet is kind of a good crazy buffer. the comments come, but you can't delete the comments (even though you REALLY want to) because they get the emails for when the comments are responded to and when they don't get any, they know you deleted them and then we have the same crazy situation as above.

i want to get rid of the crazy because i don't like how fragile it feels - i'm too much of a bull in a china shop for this kind of crazy - but how do you do it without being obvious and then hurting feelings and then possibly getting cut by a crazy the next time you see them in person??

THIS is why i don't dig the social networking.

any suggestions?

thinking

i've been completely unmotivated to write anything. that's weird because i usually write anything i would say on this thing. does that mean i have been unmotivated to say anything? prolly.

i'm sorry i've been neglectful. i think it's because i'm starting to integrate the hot yoga with the swimming. because THAT makes sense. HA!

i fucking rock

i gave someone a sex hangover.

that is what happens when this girl is not abided.

be warned. i'll probably do it to you too.

will penny

i'm pretty sure this might be my favorite charlton heston movie simply because charlton heston isn't being charlton heston through about 85% of the film. i'm not saying that charlton heston is bad, he's just... distinctive. and he kind of tamped that down in this movie. and it was awesome.
there were definitely charlton heston moments, but it wasn't a whole movies worth of charlton heston being charlton heston.

i also wanted to see how many times i could put charlton heston in a blog.

ps - the music was HORRIBLE in this film.

that's all.

uh-oh...

thoughts of kissing a nice man i met on friday night are creeping into my head. he has bunny rabbit hair in the good way. he's twinkly too.

i don't know anything about him, but my gut is fairly certain he's a man-whore. and he doesn't live here. hm. those are 2 good things.

email transcript

mom: no meat today. (it's good friday)

me: i already ate some. sorry jesus.

mom: how did i know you were going to say that?

i'm a BAD catholic.

age appropriateness?

why am i so judgy when it comes to "age appropriateness" and relationships? or even the potential for relationships?

example: there is a woman in my office who is 54. she looks about 44 and she's very pretty, but she still is 54 and is in the middle of getting divorced from a man she was married to for 34 years. i could write pages and pages on this person. in a mixed light. but, were i to sum her up: she's frustrating to me because she's someone who always needs to be taken care of and she makes people feel sorry for her because she says she can't do things that are well within her capabilities so that someone else will do it for her. i can't STAND that.
right now, there is a fairly good-looking, well-kept guy in our office to discuss spurs season tickets and stuff with the 2 managers in our office. he's MAYBE 32. i think he's 29. the 54 year old lady came into my office and asked me if i thought he was cute. i said, "meh, he's lukewarm. besides, he's short." and then she asked, "what about for me?" and instantly i think "WHAT?!". actually, several thoughts come into my head, but that was the loudest. there are so many reasons that she shouldn't even CONSIDER him, but how do you say that? you can't.
i ended up stammering out, "i think he's pretty young." she said, "what? 30s?" and i said, "no, i think late 20s." and that ended the conversation.

why do all these negative things come into my head in that situation? am i being protective of my potential dating pool even though that's not something i'm interested in right now? am i just instantly seeing the process of her getting her heart broken and saying no to protect her (because i don't want to deal with her with a broken heart and i know i'd have to)?

i'm really a lot more interested in dudes that are older than me (by a good 8-12 years or so) and live life knowing that the powers that be have a REALLY BIG sense of humor. these kind of people RARELY exist in my "dating pool". why did i have such a strong reaction to her being interested in this young slip of a man?

i guess i'm ok with cougarism only if the woman is independent. and she's the opposite of independent.

thinking

i really do love my tatas far too much. i think this is bordering on unhealthy. i could just play with them all day. ALL DAY. i have no idea why i'm noticing them so much more lately.

i know it's not a dot thing because i've been heartily admiring them for a good month or 2 straight. this is weird.

i think this is part of the reason my prison name is turd knocker.

thinking

i am positive that which wich puts addictive items in their sammiches.

wondering

why my gut is suddenly yearning to own a home. yearning to own a home that i can't afford.

i don't like this.

thinking

the sound of some heels walking on wood floors sounds eerily like the sound of a girl choking on a cock while deep throating. i think it's wedges that make that sound.

i also think i officially watch too much porn.

what??

um. i think i have a date on monday. whatever it is, i know it's going to end in fucking. but... i think it might be a date. that ends in fucking.

the word "plan" was used. you don't use "plan" with only fucking, right? at least not when it's 5 days away.
when you use "plan" with fucking it's a "let me PLAN on how to get my roommate out of the house for a few hours this afternoon so we can screw like wild monkeys"
not: "monday?" "sounds good" "do you want to PLAN it or should i?" WHAT??? (can i make that WHAT with 3 questions marks a little bigger to express my lack of understanding?) "i'll let you take the drivers seat on this one" "deal"

i don't know how to feel about this. i'm much more comfortable with the fucking than the date.

i haven't done that in a long time. i hope i remember how. HA! i say that like i knew how at one point.

this will be an adventure.

thinking

dreadlocks require a large amount of commitment.

thinking

mamma HURTS. that panic attack was a doozy. i don't think i've had one that bad since that one when i was in england. i want to sleep still. and stuff my mouth with food.

my poor body had a lot of tension to get out. i felt it getting super tight and then just releasing everything. and when i say "everything" i mean EVERYTHING. my panic attacks are a little messy.

i'm sorry darlin' corpse.

awwww shite

my computer is on it's last legs. oh, penelope, don't give me the sad face before i can get another one of you!

thinking

i may have out-written myself last night.

my brain is mushy and wants a cuddle.

knowing

a little bit of the good part of my brain seeps out of my head when i type the following:

"State of TX Policy Guaranty Fee"

i type this several times a day. i fully intend to be completely brain dead by the end of the year.

thinking

don't dish it out if you can't take it.

i don't like being right. i'd much prefer to be surprised. surprise me with your reasons for things. surprise me with a response instead of your constant silence.

wondering

why is the thought of a hand-job is so much more vile to me than the thought of a blow-job?

i love blow-jobs. i loathe hand-jobs. hand-jobs make me roll my eyes. blow-jobs make me wet. even the thought of them does. i like how cocks feel in my hand, but not for minutes at a time.

hm.