|
|
Sunday, April 18th, 2004
| |
10:51 am
|
ahhhh. crazy times with my ex-boyfriend. ooh, i like you, i love you, i'm scared, i'm ready, get away, come here, ooh, i need space, okay, let's go. i'm trying to remain neutral on the subject this time. if i can stay uninvolved.......well, anyway. it will be better.
are women easier than this? should i give up on dating the general populace, as a rule? when will david sedaris finally accept my sexless-marriage-of-convenience proposal? and will our heroine here ever find a nice girl and just settle down? stay tuned. you know where to find me.
[p.s. - had the most uninspiring date of my life with a boy this week. i only went out with him because he looked a little like jesus and i was intrigued by the length of his facial hair. wanted to ask him how he managed that. it was beige, beige, beige. it was like eating tofu. folk-guitar playing, anthropology-degree-holding tofu. bleah.]
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
| Sunday, April 11th, 2004
| |
12:53 pm
|
so fucking goddamned lonely i want to turn inside out like a mouth after sour-taste, scraping the lining of myself on myself as i go. implosion of me. want to curl up and bang inward like a star. i want to swear and dance wildly, waving a stick at the night sky, tracing patterns & cursing the giant god in the stars--'it's not fair! can you hear me, you old motherfucker? it's not fair!'
& regret a fluttering moth, turned loose from bowled hands.
so fucking lonely.
|
|
(9 comments | comment on this)
|
| Monday, April 5th, 2004
| |
10:58 am
|
in lieu of human contact, i sit around and play word games. linguistical acrobatics. 'wrought in hell,' for example, is a good one. i should be able to use that for something.
i think it should be the name of my store. ;)
|
|
(8 comments | comment on this)
|
| |
8:49 am
|
[this is how i'm updating my journal from now on. randomly generated text. it makes about as much sense, put together, as my real entries. don't you think?]
dining with eyes full of a building, orange heat. they let the chair in a lot to the sanctity of northern arizona, chasing the prairie as if i really be one home, i can i want to have cherries on my birthday! radiohead! i want to be free of flowers and i meet my degree a plane in me on may 1. my life that with friend B.' friend B, don't remember feeling less you can tell you live? how serious he sounded. which was on canvas like sadness that morning. 4. When John F. Kennedy was keeping score. my face and water. visiting tiny two-house towns and me until i remember this ugly ugly thing this on the street dead-ends at all, either. i hadn't been sleeping with eyes full of tourism moments like a cowboy fantasies skittering scared over open flame table. where is not get through another day, i was in his sense of me because you've turned pro. [look, i have wrought head are you to re-learn it! but i won't wear short skirts, wandering among them. you know why can't rest, all the Berlin Wall fell (November 7, 1989) i didn't have to my mother, and we think about what i didn't have worn a book somewhere. i woke him up. then decided there for my bathing suit on. angie, our german exchange student for a cowboy fantasies skittering scared over Texas. (February 1, 2003) saturday morning, at a historic hotel, the only because he said something might have been sleeping with B when it on the space shuttle Challenger exploded (January 28, 1986) for seriously, guys. no one home, and discuss the summer, it is], and how the base of black keys / kraftwerk / death cab for a t-shirt and manufacturing night for jobs i don't ask. just get hired. sigh. anyone out of the street, cafe tables and still i'm not caring one could not well at all morning. the day it certainly grew in high school. i had a ten-year-old. i have panned out there isn't it?'. it was furious. 12. When the historical moment. i was fluent. jesus christ, i have any tv that make my legs faster, beating down oppressively on the highways of road, quite sad and harder. i remember from arizona and lying wide-eyed in my father, laura, myself. inside, happy is to the windows were more ways than one home, and long nights on my life that make pity pleas to make pity pleas to me. silly pictures of the friends, the 6.8 earthquake hit Nisqually, WA (February 26, 1993) my parents' house. i didn't have wrought head when the news coverage of the historical moment. i will know us by word by the shoes, the day it feels as scary or talk about not the air, channelling late every new step and you'll find the only because he said something might have saved in the inventor of the only thing that was still hadn't been
|
|
(5 comments | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, April 1st, 2004
| |
11:13 am
|
poisson d'avril!
seriously, guys. no 'i'm pregnant' posts? last year i was keeping score. my friends list [sorry, my 'stalking' list] was inundated with them. you guys are slipping. ;)
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, March 31st, 2004
| |
11:16 am
|
let this be a lesson to you: be careful what you put on your resume. if you put down 'some knowledge of french and german,' even if the last time you took a french class was five years ago....the school you're applying to might call and ask you to be their new french teacher.
some knowledge! i didn't say i was fluent. jesus christ, i can't teach french--i'd have to re-learn it! but i really really really want to work for this school.........
|
|
(5 comments | comment on this)
|
| Monday, March 29th, 2004
| |
5:26 pm
|
|
| Wednesday, March 24th, 2004
| |
12:06 pm
|
time for my annual 'hire me!' post. okay.....readysetgo....hire me! please? i have a b.f.a. and i'm a quick learner and i won't wear short skirts, i promise, and i won't take cigarette breaks [at least not when you can see me] and i like people [ha ha] and. um. and. um. i have a b.f.a.
my family calls my degree a b.f.d. ha ha. big fucking deal.
i just put in an application at a large chain bookstore today, since none of my 'grownup job' prospects have panned out yet. i felt like such an overqualified idiot, and still i'm pretty sure i won't get hired.
sigh. anyone out there ever been a temp? what's that like?
|
|
(5 comments | comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, March 23rd, 2004
| |
7:51 am
|
last night i spent an hour lying flat on my back in the warm of premature summer, staring out. watching the stars. have you ever noticed that if you stare hard enough at one star out of all the rest, all the others around it will fade and seem to disappear?
you can do that with people, too.
|
|
(7 comments | comment on this)
|
| Sunday, March 21st, 2004
| |
4:08 pm
|
how happy is the blameless vestal's lot
the world forgetting, by the world forgot
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned
[ --alexander pope ]
|
|
(9 comments | comment on this)
|
| Friday, March 19th, 2004
| |
2:49 pm
|
|
| Wednesday, March 17th, 2004
| |
3:50 pm
|
|
| |
12:58 am
|
i am a magnet, switched on reverse. the more i feel, the less you can look me in the eye.
repulsion is a term i remember from physics.
|
|
|
| Tuesday, March 16th, 2004
| |
2:10 pm
|
....going to be on the computer all fucking day, apparently. searching for jobs i don't even really want.
question: why can't i access the asu state press archives from summer 2000? why why why? just to make my life more fun? okay, if i'm sending writing samples with a resume, can i just get the old print articles scanned and send them as image files? or do i have to type out all of them word by word and send them as text? help help help.
|
|
(6 comments | comment on this)
|
| |
12:50 pm
|
....so, i'm back. been back for a few days now. been digging around in the shadows, in hiding even from my closest. i spent a few days back and forth on the highways of northern arizona, chasing the outlines of cowboy fantasies skittering scared over the horizon. running in circles on the highway, a girl in a truck adolescent-like fist in the air, channelling late teenage aggression, screaming at the clean blue sky the pine trees a jagged little set of knuckles scraping upwards to the deep bowl overhead. hallucinating on nothing stronger than regular air and water. visiting tiny two-house towns and wondering, how do you live? how do you live? alone and lying wide-eyed in a bed in a historic hotel, the high ornate pressed-tin ceilings and dark wooden brass-railed bars of western memory, and me in long skirts, wandering among them. strange. strange. touching antique books with my fingertips. walking the steep streets of town. driving. staring into the grand canyon until it seemed something would break in me and waiting for the quiet, the quiet in which i'd hear the real, true sound of the canyon, but all around me was the sound of tourists and their tourist children and even though i refused to be one of their number i can tell you right now that the sound of the canyon is camera shutters whirring, it is the bored youthful gravel-crunching of sneakers and the opening and closing of water bottles and gum cracking and babies screaming bundled into garish neon nylon restraints and all around is 'boy that's really something, isn't it?'. it is the sound of a candy wrapper carried on the breeze. i drive. and drive. and drive. i leave it all behind. slip into a dark wood-paneled bar with brass railings and order alone. have you ever even eaten alone in a restaurant before? strange. so silent. alone with your salad, bitter over the balsamic. at night i lie in bed poking my ribs, prodding my hipbones and wonder, how do you live? how do you live?
=======================
this morning, at home, i walk. i walk and walk and walk and something in my veins feels like a buzzing, as though alive and conscious and struggling to be free of me. my blood boils, quite literally it seems, propels me forward. there's not enough walking i could do. there isn't enough physical activity, and i swing my arms harder and raise my legs faster, beating down oppressively on the pavement with every new step and it's not enough. i could go and go and go. i'm not sure what i'm running on these days, but it's something that feels like pure blind rage, like sadness that disguises itself as dangerously violent. i will go until i reach a state of numb exhaustion. i will take a scalding shower and scrub away everything, until it feels as if i will run out of skin. i will get through another day, this way.
i walk until i run out of road, quite literally, the street dead-ends at the base of a mountain and i turn and do the same thing, vigorously, until home.
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
| Saturday, March 13th, 2004
| |
9:10 am
|
|
| Tuesday, March 9th, 2004
| |
12:49 am
|
midnight train to georgia again, i'm afraid. so to speak.
i've got to get out of this valley for awhile. in more ways than one ha ha.
if you see me on the road, wave.
|
|
(7 comments | comment on this)
|
| Monday, March 8th, 2004
| |
3:40 pm
|
|
| |
8:22 am
|
....in case you're wondering? not well. not well at all.
i want to make a bolt a dash pull my bag from the mantel and head for the blue horizon, want long nights on the road drinking truckstop coffee and long miles of highway under tires to put some distance between me and this thing this ugly ugly thing in my life that i have wrought head north, head north head north head north a cowboy is to the prairie as a sailor is to the sea and you'll find a measure of clarity out there, a cowboy is to the prairie as a trucker is to the highway, you know let the dust settle back home & return changed and with eyes full of mountains and starry lights, the trees a distant repeating pattern like the spike of your heartbeat, fractured but still.....stilll...still..beating.
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
| Monday, February 23rd, 2004
| |
1:33 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
