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Wednesday, October 30th, 2002
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4:56 pm
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just sipped some flat root beer
i am wearing a white seventies shirt with gold stripes
tomorrow i think i'll be the character "terry" mon and I invented last weekend, she'll be "big red." we both have some unbelievably wretched wigs.
at last weekend's party there was a girl with no costume, just a single barbed unicorn horn that honestly looked as if it protruded from her forehead.
I think we are going to spend our Halloween at Vermont, although that place always gets so crowded and sticky from duck eggrolls, and it takes much shoving to get a simple cocktail. I'm actually more excited about the day of the dead- walking through hollywood forever cemetery in candle light.
happy commuting....
zzzzzzzzzzz
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| Tuesday, October 29th, 2002
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5:18 pm - eeek
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some self-indulgent statements from my paper journal:
The pleasure of words and their intricate meanings and changed meanings when transposed, knocked together, or seperated like a hand from a stump from their sister words has been diluted by displeasure with the shape of the world. I drink because I am afraid to talk, afraid to listen, and finally swallow the cold naseauting pill of it. Maybe I just need coffee, sobriety, exercise, air, vacation, or hospital. I despair at my own despair, the complainer's tune, the ugly inefficiancy and stupidity of my arrest in my tracks. When I think about love, sometimes it is extracted from all of its genuine spark, and becomes more about comfort-gaining and retaining comfort. Perhaps all of my friendships are selfish. I have put myself in my own shoes. I am so sad and grumpy and marvel at how it pains me to fake that all is okay. Also, I do believe journalism has cut my edge down to bland sentences. I miss poetry and wonder if I was so scared of not being perfect, of learning through missing meaning-making, that I rejected language poetry specificaly but stopped writing pretty much altogether. I know that i have to get back to the hand moving on paper, the trusting myself and my tone. Something about the computer's cold screen and keystrokes are just not connected to my body the same as my hand moving with ink. Tonight I will sleep and cheer myself back into myself. Not all is lost or will ever be. I have to be vigilant if I am going to rise above the deadening effect of modern society and capitalistic expectations (in which, I too, am trapped).
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| Monday, October 28th, 2002
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11:10 am
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I have laryngitis but I insist it's sexy to rasp.
I'm here at work even though I should be in bed. I feel like being here and sounding like this proves to the jerky people that I had a reason to take some days off last week.
I spent yesterday in blankets, cuddling with all three cats, drinking some immune-inhibitive beers & conac while watching the world series ( What have I become? I never watched baseball before.) Which leaves only tonight to write my review of the weight of water and 8 women. I really wanted to write a kick ass review and get it in on time- but it seems as if my alchoholic, cold-ridden body is sabotaging me yet again.
On other fronts- I've decided I might consider teaching high school english and getting into the teacher training program here at ucla. It wouldn't be for another year- because I have to take all of these entrance exams, but at least I would feel like I would have a way out of this grind, a possibility of actually sharing what I love, and summers off to write. I don't know- I'm always changing my plan.
Cold pizza sounds like a gross lunch oddly. I guess with the weather I'm craving something hot and piping.
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| Friday, October 25th, 2002
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10:07 am
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winded. wearing brown librarian sweater with amber buttons, filched
from someone i once loved and hurt.
missing san francisco lately. maybe
it's just the bad traffic on sunset every day wearing my words away.
more street closures equals a proliferation of daily cussing.
crackles developing in the skin. little anomalies. meanwhile freshman
looking more like walking doctored photographs here at UCLA.
slight chance of rain and an extra of hour of sleep
are upcoming victories.
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| Thursday, September 12th, 2002
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4:40 pm
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tummy ache coated with cheetoes. keep trying to wake up at 5:45 am to write and failing. the snooze button is my love affair and enemy. read andorra by peter camereon. starting the adventures of kavalier and clay which I should be on for awhile. going to happy hour after work to commiserate about work or lack thereof.
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| Tuesday, May 7th, 2002
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4:53 pm
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drinking green squall powerade as it has the fluid flush of gatorade with the b vitamins of red bull for a measly 99 cents. tuckered out after another day in front of this flat screen. watching the end of queen christina (a fabulous movie btw) tonight and maybe unpacking a few more boxes.
m and i moved in together. our combined pets: two cats (sophie & philippe; iguana (rupert); rat (melanie); two frogs (muffin & corky); one salamander (nester).
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| Thursday, February 28th, 2002
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7:49 am
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Driving silent, driving with music, singing, driving while petting hair, driving off the beaten path and finding ourselves lost among cacti. Believing in each other- the promotion, the haircut, the deadline, the ability to dance, the ability to coalesce, the ability to let go, the ability to heal, forgive, move on. Pleasures while sleeping: a warm space in between breasts, the way one of us wakes up to the other?s nightmare, the soothing sounds, and snores and kneads, a way of stealing blankets, a way of snaking pillows, a way of curling into pillows as if they were a body. The first time we saw rain together. The pleasures of playing hooky. Cooking together as if we were one person. Fusion. Kissing on the floor in the kitchen. Falling down altogether. Coping. Swallowing one?s pride. Being prideful. Loving despite faults. Loving because of fault. Being unable to separate the faults from the girl. Being selfish. Lying. Lying amongst grass. Getting bugs in the hair. Picking her bugs out. Brushing off too much grass on the butt. Being scared of meeting her family. Being scared of being family. Being family despite the fear, the improbability, the muster it takes. Getting up in the morning and putting on the same pants. Washing ones face. Putting on clay masks. Combing hair. Kissing and kissing and kissing. Kissing in an unlocked room. Kissing in a computer room. Kissing in the coffee room. Kissing in your bed. Kissing in my bed. Kissing drunk on a street. Kissing sober in a car. Reading your journal out loud. Reading a poem out loud. Both of us crying. Me crying most. Getting a bear at your desk. Going away. Driving to a place with fire and a warm bath to clean us off. Saying yes. Believing yes. Knowing yes. The fragment of time it takes to fuck things up. Chicken and Waffles. Beer and more beer and more beer and the cold taste and the cold bottle and emptying it and reaching in for two more for us. Being poor together. How hard it is to be in bed bored and not know what to do with yourself. Kissing less. Resolving to make things better with out a clear picture of now. Wanting to run faster- to burn up ones flab on the treadmill like a punishment. Drinking gulps of water out of the same glass. Hating oneself being to strong a description. Loving oneself despite faults. Loving oneself because of faults. Being unable to separate the faults from the girl. Feeling sorry in the morning. Wearing her shirt. Wearing her ring. Wearing her smell. Time apart. Time together and alone. Mountain roads in the dark. Well needed rest. Waking up to each other naked, and feeling our way together, into making love. The way it happens despite pain. The way it happens because of pain. Our baggage. Feeling past the baggage. Being penetrated. Being seen. Being heard more than you thought was possible. Accuracy. Differences in taste. Tasting different things on the same tongue. Goat cheese and mushroom. Doubting because you can. Doubting because you fear and need time in the bed with the book, time in the bath with the book, time at the ocean, a movement outside your box of a room. Missing friends. Making friends. Your lover?s friendship. Laughing at the same moment, loud. Saying the same statement simultaneously. Being by one?s side. Walking together into a room. Seperating and looking across the room at each other. Wanting something else with the same person. Wanting a person. Wanting only one person and no one else. Weeping. Holding it back. Sitting in ones car with the music loud.
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| Thursday, February 21st, 2002
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2:40 pm
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lately I haven't felt like being part of a community, writing, or even self-analizing. Been just cranking through the motions I guess and needed a bit of reprieve from constant self psychoanalysis.
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| Monday, January 14th, 2002
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9:16 pm
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| Wednesday, December 12th, 2001
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3:11 pm
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| Monday, December 10th, 2001
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2:01 pm
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finished beowulf, read the wanderer, the battle of maldon, about to start on chaucer.
feeling clearheaded, excited even.
m gave me a fuss for buying coke at h's bday party. (it's been a long time since I partook and I only did a twenty by my self- just sat in my house alone and read) we are continuously fighting passionately and making up passionately. it seems abnormal to just watch tv or make dinner or talk calmly in the car. had a two hour conversation with my ex steph about living together as young lovers, our house and bodies going to shambles over the years... the pressures of becoming "domestic" young. it was good to get some perspective about that time devoid of all the tears and anger that surrounded it near the end.
hmm. I have to pull a "deep/un-deep" here:
(did you know billy joel put out a classical album that sounds stolen from chopin?)
anxiety on this clear head. I should be writing now.
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| Tuesday, November 27th, 2001
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9:17 am
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my eyes are aching. I've been called over-emotional. cried with m at 8am sitting on the couch outside our work where we smoke cigs in better moments.
dranks margaritas last night, caught some of "a lion in winter". oh katherine hepburn you are delicious in every way. and then watched ab fab.
talked to s (who is also a recent relocater from sf to la and an old friend) last night about lies, his comp lit program at ucla, anti-intellectualism, aging, and old scene gossip centering around a particular girl who wrote and produced a scathing play all about me in college, staring some of my friends, and some rather uncouth things she did to him in a similar obsessive situation.
i'm feeling unsure about today. I have little motivation. maybe i'm just hungry. I think my girlfriend may not be that interested in my interests. feeling loved by her, but perhaps not wholy known. i hope this changes.
I'm craving something with melted american cheese and fat. yuck. luckily i have no money to purchace such a breakfast sandwich.
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| Wednesday, November 21st, 2001
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2:02 pm
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went to see "iris" an upcoming movie about iris murdoch, but the screening times were all screwy so I ended up seeing this time travel movie with meg ryan called "kate & leopold" which was actually semi-cute.
afterwards like an overromantic kid walking through the streets of an empty beverly hills alone it was cold and leaves kept kicking up as if transported to the east coast or somewhere more seasonal. hearing bach on sunset, floating home, my commute felt intentional.
i want to be in a phd program.
i can't do this anymore, secretary extraordinaire, with late bills, hungry cats, hungry candace. always backfiring. i decided i might apply to film theory programs as well as lit programs and just stay local.
m asked me to marry her. we were in wrightwood after a fourday weekend of sex and hot tubbing and burnt firewood. we walked up to the top of mountain high and on the way down i had visions of a man burying a four year old girl under rocks. it got dark. the fog disappearing the trees and our boots kept slidding down the trail faster. I carried a large rock in case we got attacked. I felt protective. sometimes I feel so tall and large handed and genderless. i miss dresses. they are all in shambles with holes and stains. vintage that's gotten terribly wrecked over the years. i cannot afford shoes and wear old stinky puma blackouts.
i said "yes".
tonight i am going to see "iris" at another screening and perhaps crawl in bed with her new biography afterwards and do my homework. things are in balance: terrible and wonderfull at once, and i am just a mix of it.
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| Monday, October 22nd, 2001
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9:04 am
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blonderedhead last night
bjork tonight (orchestra seats!)
bis tommorow
yum.
and it's grey outside. maybe i miss san francisco. i just miss seasons
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| Thursday, October 18th, 2001
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4:32 pm
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maybe i will write to-night with the kitties taking turns sprawled in my lap or over my keyboard.
( m. is going to the breeders.)
looking forward to a lazy night alone at home.
my novel is two years old and tres juvenile-seeming to me.
but if i don't work on it it will never finish.
maybe i will make tea and 99 cent store soup.
i have split pea andersons soup. yum.
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9:57 am
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Last night my tire had a flat and I got all greasy and black powdery with brake gunk putting on my spare. First I called the road service people but they told me it would take an hour and a half and while the guy on the phone was asking me my VIN number and such I had the irrepressable need to throw up my allergy pills (taken on an empty stomach) which I of course did uncomfortably in the parking lot the moment I got off the phone.
But nevertheless I had a good night last night. Monica and I went to the cat and the fiddle and we each had (ONLY) two slowly sipped guinesses and we engulfed these happy hour sausages and croissant rolls which we dipped in horseradish mustard and steak sauce. Then we watched a really lame movie on VH-1 wherein annabelle gish falls in love with her salsa instructor. monica passed out with her mouth open, sitting up and I curled her back into normal position and stayed up late in the dark as she snored. I decided not to take my happy pill last night cuz of the two beers and I tell you I feel much more alert and thoughtfull this morning without it's tranquilizing drag.
I had to get my tire fixed this morning so I called in late to work. They sealed it at the Shell station in a jiffy and so mon and i had time for breakfast jacks and we stopped at coffee bean and tea leaf- she had a vanilla latte, I had a 2xcapp. and we smoked ciggarettes on the balcony. It was still cold outside.- dewy and carmel-blue light. now I'm buzzing- good start to the day.
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| Wednesday, October 17th, 2001
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10:24 am
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I've been off of lj for a few weeks as I've been making adjustments. (I sound like a carborator.)
Anyone ever been put on Celexa? So far I've had to take it right before bed or I see trails- everything is especially bright and saturated in color- but eerie as if outside is a very dark world. So I sleep it off- but it has been making me especially drowsy all the time. I decided on it instead of paxil 'cause my doc says paxil gives everyone sexual side effects and I like my drive, thank you. I've been sober ten days after another icky brunch incident the day we started lobbing bombs at afghanistan.
I don't like the idea of happy pills but I'm trying to be very scientific about it. yes my seratonin is depleted- here is a pill that makes me recycle the seratonin I do have before absorbing it. Makes sense for this first month o' clarity. Then I will ween myself off the pills and return to whatever seratonin levels I happen to have naturally.
I wanted to just get on Xanax because all I want to treat is my anxiety (I like my crying fits thank you)-- but my doc is wise- they don't like to give Xanax to addicts. woe is me.
My new kitten Philippe is in the clear- free of tapeworms and earmites and growing into his oversized paws and floppy ears. Sophie has taken a motherly liking to him- romps around with him in the morning and licks his tummy and face before bed.
Through all of my tumult I have somehow managed to maintain my column and edit's giving me a book review too. the book has this mother of an intro-40 uninspired pages- so I'm skipping to the interviews with the filmmakers- but I feel guilty as if I'm not doing all my homework.
I have to pee.
my mouth is full of cappachino (sp) that has dried along my gums.
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| Wednesday, September 26th, 2001
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9:26 am
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got thrown out (physically) of the club by bouncers. has this ever happened to you? Is this some cosmic signal?
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8:42 am
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all day.
lacking eloquence. head is a hole a stutter a falldown.
this is what you mean to me- here. on my arm. a badge or scarification.
wandering the hallways in this dream i am having- the straightjackets inside every open door.
...guess i'll eat some worms.
there shouldn't be a notion of the morning, you already entrenched in me up to the knees
a curl a warmth of cheek your hand slides under my panties waking up to love as intangible
as a word, an abstract like that is.
i try to build a frame around this but the thing is bigger than me
so difficult to put right.
embaressed today, baffeled with my own body, a misfiguring, i think.
embaressed with evening, embaressed with traveling,
embaressed that my head is still on despite the aggravating struggles to remove it.
in the other dream I am dragging my own self.
call this uncanny.
it has something to do with waiting for apocalypse.
living in a messy patter of a world
well, then
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| Tuesday, September 25th, 2001
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4:47 pm
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going to see brassy to-night. my tummy is puffy from yummy pollo asada.
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