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LiveJournal for look right through me.
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| Sunday, August 22nd, 2004 |
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in a wild and haphazard turn of events i had to turn everything upside down and empty out the little pockets of dust that have been created by the tapes and the corner of my cd stand, slight panic (caused by the fact that i have only two pairs of decent socks)this is a big city, one can always find socks. so what else do i do? shove books into a bag of course that will last me for four months...all for the sake of one overnight stay just briefly..... julia darling..since i may not see you until thanksgiving, i truly love you, you have seen me at my worst, and i you, and it makes me sad that i will not have you somewhere on 63d drive. we will always have san juan. on another side note, i love devin!! "blahblah...getting freaky" veeshal perks up " together?" "no, aloooone!" |
| Friday, August 13th, 2004 |
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i'm aware that inatimate is not a word, but inanimate is Amiekbs8: inatimate is not a word Amiekbs8: inanimate! Amiekbs8: hehehee doesnt spell check catch these mistakes for yo Amiekbs8: u Shal11: i made a type arse Shal11: typo Shal11: like i did just now Shal11: i'll friggin correct it for you Amiekbs8: heheheh see how she cackles!!! |
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I slept last night in thirty minute incriments, which i would not mind..would this incriments be uninterrupted, but they were, with about two hour stretches of no sleep between. Once i actually started to sleep i jumped because i thought a rattlesnake had somehow climbed the wall, on the fire escape, and into my window, but the rattling did not come from a snake, but from my blinds, which were doing the convulsive dance of the epileptic inatimate object..yes, this frequently happens to things in my room. Around four in the morning i realized i was sleeping under a gust of wind without covers and i was with cold, i cursed myself for being an idiot but was too lazy to close the window,,,one day i will be too lazy too walk faster when the light turns yellow and somebody will run me over, probably on queens boulevard..right across the street from haagen dazs..around twenty to seven my body was tinted blue through the window, around that time i started reciting " the raven" to see how much of it i remembered...afraid i killed it edgar my love, of course the part which i was supposed to memorize in seventh grade was the part i forgot..or at least the lines after " and each saddened silk uncertain rustling of each/the? purple curtain, thrilled me, filled me with..something something never something before....." the rest..is rusty, i should start memorizing poetry again, daddy will be first on the list. when do i wake up after maybe a total of three hours of a night's sleep....ten thirty, i feel my limbic system should be tried as a conspirator against my mental and physical health. concocted some half assed attempt at a poem about so called " stiffling domesticity", but just because i snatched my precious plath book from my brother and opened it up to something which i wish i would have writteni feel like putting it in, skip it if you don't like her, she doesn't care, she's been dead for a while. |
| Wednesday, August 11th, 2004 |
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the downpore just ended, these things make me agree with julia, weather like that is sex weather, so much shitty symbolism can be used with the whole "eye of the storm" " rising passion" blah blah etc etc, these rainstorms work like a double-edged sword, makes you desperate for company that will back you up in your appreciation for this psychotic weather. my cousin is playing with my jack doll "i am a skeleton, i was a person before and now i'm dead, i was girl person" my brother says- " and now you're a boy person?" my cousin- " no, now i am a skeleton, and i can fly, want to see me fly" my brother- " yes" my cousin- " wings of the skeleton make my sceptor fly!" ( how the hell does a five year old know a word like sceptor?) and this is happening on my bed. i feel like my head is being squeezed in a vice because goddamnit i have a cold and it's august i want the cold to go away, jesus what am i six? surely i am going to go insane if i don't get out of this room which is slowly reaching something like the temperature of a sauna slowly sucking up oxygen so that i can't breathe any more. i don't want anybody talking out loud to me right now because it's making me feel like my head will pop like an aged adolescent zit |
| Tuesday, August 10th, 2004 |
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i almost allowed myself to eat a huge bowl of mushroom soup with sour cream for breakfast , then i decided no, i will have some rice crispies i took out the milk when a salad met my gaze across the table, so i pounced into the fridge for feta and dumped it into the bowl, and now i am devouring this as i wait for my coffee. very odd night full of dreams that would have made dali proud but i say this is because my health is not as it used to be and my throat is expelling phlegm. off soon to layer myself with eyelinerand head to the beauty that is garden state |
| Monday, August 9th, 2004 |
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I am not appreciative of signs of my femalehood that like to show themselves in the beginning of august, i can deal with them in the winter because it's cold and if i crawl under warm cottony sheets that at least will not drive me up the wall with insanity, however this is not the case in the summer, and this i do not appreciate. I am a free woman as of yesterday for I am now UNEMPLOYED!!!!!, and oh it is good. It is especially good, because today when i came in to get my money to see my former supervisor banging on the upper walls with a broom handle trying to knock down a roach of monstrous proprotions that refused to come down, unfortunately , at that moment no employee of the health department happened to walk by, but some day it will happen. Also, being dead tired and getting a ride to my former place of work, i didn't put much thought into the clothing that i wore, so i made the horrible mistake of wearing shorts, yes shorts, an unimaginable thing for a young girl to wear on a day where the temperature has risen to the high eighties, i get out of the car to a row of trucks parked by the store with their owners still inside, they whistle, which is whatever, but they're not even together, and that's just harsh on the ears. Saw Tonia and finally met her friends, which are all very lovely and friendly people, first impresson is key, and i was witness to the mudwrestling that had to go on for funds only. Tonia's mother made this amazing home made jam from blueberries that i attacked viciously with a spoon ( mark chose to attempt and scare me by telling me of his friend who ate peanut butter for a day and then got the shakes, but ha! peanut butter i despise!)found some rum, after which my favorite phrase for now is ( after much contemplation).." you taste rumy", i just like the sound of that word, rumy,it makes me think of sanguine. Tomorrow: wild attempt at script writing with my darling shami, garden state, perhaps a good food debauchery. |
| Wednesday, July 28th, 2004 |
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Shit shit shit shit shit, have to leave my house in about forty minutse to go work again, until nine. Last night, I'm making great timing having cleaned the floors and put everything away and defrosted the yogurt machine, so I'm thinking ok, only have to defrost the freezer, and then with luck, I can be out of that place by eleven o clock, mind you we " close" at ten..the earliest I"ve left of course was eleven thirty..the latest. midnight. So I la di da my way to the backroom when I hear a Drip Drip Drip Drip... Thus I look up, and see what looks like a fire shower coming from the ceiling, apparently, when it rains on the roof of this godforsaken establishment, the ceiling leaks, and water pours in from the ceiling lights, well this is nice, my own private amazonian waterfall right here in haagen dazs ( you know what, i don't give a fuck if i still don't spell the name correctly) Well that's wonderful...save the fact that every waffle concotion on display is now being soaked, and oh yes, i burned the cookies. Thus i had to salvage the cone and bowl display, oh and one more thing, nobody in that fucking store got past the fourth grade spelling bee, bowls, are not to be spelled with random e's , BOWLES, no no, this is not cabaret sadly, if it was, i would gladly paint my nails green and sing " mein heir" using the whisks at congas. Today I will tell her that next week is my last week...just because I want sixty more dollars. minimum wage sucks my abnormally long toe. |
| Tuesday, July 27th, 2004 |
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| shit...i forgot to wash my uniform and it has acquired an overwhelming smell of milk and not that lush fresh smell of green grass fed cow milk. |
| Sunday, July 25th, 2004 |
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The following title is to be read in the accent of Sean Connery, or Sick Boy reciting Sean Conner, whatever pleases thy fancies. At two in the afternoon Julia and I left her apartment to search for breakfast in the supermarket, she looking the more presentable out of the two of us because the boxers that I was wearing along with the inside out shirt did not seem to appeal to the majority of the Rego Park public, I think I looked damn good. We bought a school pack of Tropicana orange juice and Caramel Sutra ice cream, pizza, I bought a can of creamy mushroom soup that I took home with me, that was breakfast, to Romy and Michelle's high school reunion. I would say it was a very deserving breakfast very much in line with our adventures from last night. As I was scrubbing down the cabinets at work Sunday singing to My Heart Will Go and cursing Celine, I decided I wanted my food served to me tonight, thus I called Julia and suggested we go to dinner, ok, we go. Amanda joined our lovely company, and we headed for Italian. Pasta will never cease to satisfy me, for old times sake Julia ordered a white martini, I took something with tequila and vodka, we toasted to Eliott and papajuana. Had a long discussion about wistful sexual conquests with Julia saying " Nail? Like fuck?" and myself " No no no, like to a cross" as Amanda convulses next to me, at some point we wisely decide to leave before we are kicked out, better not to lose our graceful mien we decide, Amanda then introduces us to her lovely friends and acquantances. Krista was not a favorite, she was in flipflops, a green shirt that was riding up over her stomach, and this isn't that sexy belly that's spoken about in pulp fiction either, this is raw hide exposed to too much self tanning we speak off, and she wore a white pleated skirt, the strings of her thong pulled high over her hips, marvelous, absolutely fucking marvelous. My favorite is a french acquantance of hers, his name escapes me, I tried to share whatever dirty french I knew with him..however thanks to a certain somebody...after I proudly said it he looked at me and said " I'm a dick?"..so much for that. On our way back home, after Julia changes shoes and I pee, we decide that we should go to the city for coffee and drinks. There is a woman on the E train sobbing uncontrollably with her hands over her ears rocking back and forth, Julia stares, and I pull her back into the article in cosmo about the particulars of oral sex. we make it to Lexington, it's still two in the morning, the bar closes at four, we sit and wait for the four, reading about self staged abductions, having my rapist's baby, an awful bit of a short story of sex in a shower...no four train..a half hour later, Julia looks up and says " um.....this is uptown..oops" and she runs while i chase after her swatting at her head with the cosmo. By 3:40 AM we get to Fulton and are on the lookout for gold street where the bar is, we stop to ask directions, but it turns out the scruffy man whose aide we want is a french student and he doesn't do us much good. We find the bar and come in, Julia gives back the money she owes, we stick around, we make friends with the Irish bartender and the crowd is enamored with my velvet underground shirt. The stereo system plays " fat bottomed girls" we're laughing like maniacs, the Irish bartender: Girls, what would you like to drink? Julia: Have you any rum? Bartender: Yes Julia: Alright then, rum please Bartender: With? Julia: Just rum Bartender: Straight? Julia: Yes, I am russian Bartender: Ah, alright then, and you honey? Me: Vodka? Bartender: Absolut? Me: Yes Bartender: with? Me: No no, just that Bartender: Are you also russian? Me: Yes Bartender: Ah, sure then. He gives us little straws, we throw them away and toast. Riders on the storm come on, somewhere there I lapse into a thick accent and we exchange prolonged handshakes, we decide we're hungry and run to the deli to buy sushi that i eat without soy sauce with my hands, we run into the french guy again and this time stop by long enough to talk to him, he makes the rounds shaking hands and as I am last i have to wipe the sticky rice on my jeans. We go to Noah's gorgeous suite overlooking southstreet seaport, I sign in as her sister ( Julia hisses into my year Muhamed, last name Muhamed, Muhamed, Muhamed, my name is Liza Muhamed and I am the whitest arab you have ever seen) We spread out on a bunkbed sne Noah tells us Japanese Ghost stories.Her apartment smells like cold air and cigarettes and I sniff into it, then we wobble down the street at five o clock hoping to be home by seven as a shady man in a green shirt crosses paths with us. " There's a party a block down, you guys should come, there's no charge to get in, drinks are three dollars, you shouldn't be in the bar either, you're probably sixteen" (we raise our left eyebrows) " c'mon guys, just come,Bjork just left the party" we laugh and say we have to feed julia's cat. On the way home I talk like Sean Connery and we quote the birdcage, we whistle the godfather theme, at seven in the morning we fall down |
| Friday, July 23rd, 2004 |
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This job is now taking over the majority of my entries. My father walked into the store as I was mopping ferociously, and said with his mouth hanging open slightly " YOU are the proletariat" I had a nightmare about the yogurt machine last night. It's pouring, and of course where am I headed, to the park to sit on the grass and listen to devo. I'm regressing. |
| Thursday, July 22nd, 2004 |
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For the past week i've been trying to figure out what's a good time to quit my job, if it was a job worth caring about or keeping, perhaps this would upset, but since i don't seem to give a damn about serving " Uncle Lou" his pint of ice cream with just a little belgian chocolate, and mint chocolate chip, and just a little rocky road....fuck it, it's not worth it. My decision is to quit by the second week of August, I have two weeks then to do everything that I haven't done. Must find out when Ross and Uncle Mick are coming and take them drinking in Chelsea, have to talk to my parents about going away for a little to Maryland. Realisticaly speaking, this job is not something that requires that much time, effort, or thought,for all of its shit pay that comes two weeks late, and of course, there is my supervisor....perhaps i would have some guilt about badmouthing her if she would be nice, but she's entirely too " cool and professional" for a fucking ICE CREAM store..and thus she cares not, except for when it comes to her boyfriend who " Looks absolutely evil with his head shaved" ( her eyes ablaze with desire) Fucking job. And damn it, i don't want to be the one serving people egg creams, which contains neither egg nor cream, but consists of seltzer and syrup. In conclusion of this rant which maybe...two people will read, I need to find me a Ms. Havisham. |
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| the one thing that has not absorbed itself into my thick skull over these years, is that i should just keep my mouth shut, there are just things that are better left unsaid, and unfortunately i lack the intuition that rational human beings have which tells them when things should be said, and when they should just fold their hands and stare vacantly out the window, i swear i should be drowned for things like that. |
| Wednesday, July 21st, 2004 |
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 Which America Hating Minority Are You? Take More Robert & Tim Quizzes Watch Robert & Tim Cartoons otherwise..how would they know? |
| Monday, July 19th, 2004 |
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so after work being dead tired i went into the city, who the fuck knows why? i dragged inna and mark through st mark's and we were all befuddled at the amount of russians that have suddenly appeared in the east village, just wound up going to washington square park and half sleeping on the cement riser things, on the way home we transfer at lex and there's this woman with an amazingly gorgeous voice singing opera in the subway for spare change, how very new york such a big city that doesn't give a damn of us. Maybe it's the fact that i'm on the subway every day and i see hoards of people who are blind and homeless, just homeless, crippled, crippled and homeless, any combination of a misfortune a human being can come across, just add homeless....and being a person who is already oversensitive and cries when dumbo gets seperated from his mother ( even fucking elephants are cruel) so yeh i don't particularly dwell too much over the man with two stumps for an arm and a leg when he doesn't get change, you can't deal with things like that if they snag at you every time..or i can't. We come home, and friggin requiem for a dream is on ifc, and i can't not watch a movie i know if it's on ifc, of course requiem is just such an innapropriate movie to watch when there's already something wrong in the air ( mark hasn't spoken in three hours....yes he's quiet, but not with me) so i ask what's wrong and he just says he's going to bed. I can't have that, so i follow, yeh..if you're ever upset about something don't lie to me and tell me that everything's fine, i'm not dense, i can see your faces. He got upset by it, the unfortunates of new york on the subway...it really is because he doesn't live here, and god it makes me feel like such a bitch because i'm not that upset over it, but i would wind up shooting myself if i did because it's too much misery for anybody to handle, let the leaf flyer people for churchoffillintheblank take that shit on themselves, yeh, aren't trying to hand out those fucking flyers to the homeless, not the same as food now is it, cheaply printed paper. So he's upset..then i get upset and i end up smearing my snot all over, oh the romanticism of it all.... the next day after i walked him to work i'm taking the subway and i see the same guy with a metal leg that he had mentioned before...i automatically empty out my change into his cap...andnow i'm perhaps even worse because i wouldn't have thought of it had the conversation not come up the night before. he also left his " johny the homocidal maniac" shirt and i've been sniffing it for a good two hours now. Perfum baby. peerfuuuuuuuum. |
| Wednesday, July 14th, 2004 |
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i want to do something which involves the people whose presence i enjoy, and this somehow has to entail, garlands ( either leaf or flowers) dripping waxy candles, flowers that cascade off the tablecloth , lots of wine, striped stockings and large antique rings today in the bowery poetry club someone told me that my accent sounds like that of the protagonist from fargo, this baffles me. vicky and i were asked to score the performers, i declined because of vicky's headache and my responsibility of having to go home, upon hearing those news, the man talking to me looked at me, and bit the air in front of my nose, but quite fondly. |
| Monday, July 12th, 2004 |
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| my god, what do people do when they see a day like that out their window. miserable cloudy and cold nothing but gray filing past your window way up in the sy where you've wanted to fly ever since you've been so little but now that really doesn't seem like an option anymore because everyting is all gloom and fog and gray. While some poor leafless tress standing in the background like isolation, solitary confinement, and everybody pines for spring and human contact rather than to see days like this when nothing can possibly go the way you want it to go. It's unfathomable to think of any joyous activity right now, but people are doing things, and its not all confined to dying, or moaning in the back of an alley hungover, being beaten by your mother father, husband, wife , child, caretaker, mistress, teacher, priest, cop, it's not only beatings and cold sweats on crusty deathbeds, but revelries, straining to five birth to release the pressure and while one is arching her hips one way to relieve the pressure of a human being another one is arching her hips the same way to meet the pressure of another human being so that the lingere and the wine doesn't go to waste and a wonderful fuck may be had by fall. People getting married, getting divorced, shot, stabbled, raped, castarated, confirmed, damned, gouged , spit on, caressed, bit, lashed, embraced, drunk, bleeding, high, doubling over with cramps, falling asleep, waking up, hanging themselves, smoking cigarettes, cooking up a shot, writing, cutting, masturbating, eating, throwing up, braiding air, petting a cat, swimming, murdering, dying, lying, being rejected, being pardoned, being tied to the bedpost, being full, being stupid, sad, ugly, waif like, sarcastic, sardonic, brute, crude, unearthly beautiful, sad, funny, bored, content, englightened and ignorant. But how the hell is it possible for such an array of things to be done by people on such a shitty day as this. What is there to do but loll around and touch your fingertips to one another amazed that you can't exercise enough control for one finger not to bend when you bend another. What is there to do and what rights do others have to intrude on a gray da like that and burst into your house demanding dinner or a map or their money back. The only thing which is suitable to this day is comatose sleep, silenece and relief from everything you've been ordered to do, sleep sleep sleep and wake up with the oddest dream you've ever had and that you can't find the right path in your brain to recover it. On days like this who the hell wants to roll out of bed and pee, even if they need to. so lazy, and my fingertips are all dented in and my feet are cold because i refuse to wear socks but would rather expose myself to obscene amounts of caffeine that will make my heart race like the little fly or whatever poor bug we experimented on in bio lab. Caffeine and chocolate......and now i'm done |
| Friday, July 9th, 2004 |
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| where in fuck's name are my damned shorts? |
| Wednesday, July 7th, 2004 |
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After conducting an awful briefing on my " team's issues" ( does it make sense asking me to do this? not really, considering the fact that i only did one story which was on a transgendered kid and the rest of the stories i did nothing with) i went to drop off film, there's a line, which is a surprising thing to deal with at a run down grocery store so i step behind a man who is wearing a jerkin..yes a jerkin,with most of his front and bottom teeth missing and an amazing amount of blackheads on his chest, i don't think i've ever seen them like this, this was imbedded coal, he offers me to go in front of him, i decline and i stand there fishing for the film, dialogue ensues "you look young" i am "the police can arrest me for talking to you" not for talking to me " so you're young huh" yeh "well you look good" i don't answer because i'm holding an envelope in my mouth and looking for another roll of film at this point he start muttering and grunting things incoherently and an elderly woman tells him something reproachfully he spits " shut up" and the woman at the counter gives him a lecture about respect, he waves her off and turns back to me "we can go out some time, i'll take you out to the movies and then dinner, or do you have a boyfriend" yeh..yeh i do he then smiles and wobbles out...i try to walk slowly so as to leave him behind....and lo and behold, he lives in the apartment building across from mine. on a nicer and a much more loveable note...my cousin got herself a cat, orange with white paws more or less i am in charge of feeding this poor lonely thing as he's left alone in the apartment, he jumped on me..that's how happy he was to see me he jumped on me. tuesday morning i woke up with bruised hips and thighs and a clear complexion which is only the after result of a night of drinking for me, somewhere along that time i wound up on my floor cying to mark about what an ass i have been, and then went to throw up for a good half hour due to the obscene amount of food i consumed earlier, he WATCHED me, he sat in the corridor and watched me grip the toilet seat and empty my insides out...i get entirely too happy sometimes because of things like this. |
| Tuesday, June 22nd, 2004 |
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i am now the proud owner of the Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath, eat me o pompous english majors. I will not even mention my successful underatking of Ulysses and how much love i have for joyce right now. on 42nd i saw a woman who looked like the just came out of her seventy fifth nervous breakdown and then went to shoot up....i love the fascinating people i see, and for some reason i have noted that i love old men with little white moustaches shite...amanda, clinton was in the city today signing the new book, we missed him...i lament |
| Sunday, June 20th, 2004 |
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Oh my word, my back has gone out completely, i am officially of the geriatric status and in any moment a spoon shall materialize out of thin air to shove strained prunes into my mouth and wipe down the trail of spit from my chin. Thursday night i worked, " worked" being an intersting word...because usually when used in the context of the well established sense, there is some sort of compensation for work, money, food , sex, something to compensate a person for the lost hours, this however, does not apply to my situation, because my employer, does not believe in paying those who work during their first week, well....can't argue can we know, particularly when i have never been in this woman's presence, so for all i know she's a withered old potato on a respirator. I was left alone, not something i would normally give a shit about, but considering the fact that it's close to ninety degrees outside and i'm working in an ice cream store, and the amount of people waiting on line for the ice cream is slowly climbing into the double digits ( mind you each person decided this is the time to buy five portions of ice cream at ones, with fifties...)it becomes a little overwhelming. Cleaned the store, and in the process of " mopping up" ,yes i am as well be working in the back of a peep show booth, i managed to ram the broom handle into my lip, splitting it and making a lovely spectacle for a couple who only came to buy a cake...my lip swelled up, became infected for a day, and my mother proclaimed i had herpes, which will become an intersting case....herpes from an inatimate object..the wooden handle of a broom. Stayed until eleven forty five cleaning up...what i gained from this, were the forearms of a man who may as well have masturbated since exiting the womb. Today, my brilliant supervisor had the idea of leaving me during father's day, which is nice, considering nobody ever told me where the motherfucking cake boxes were .mob scene..i am also now re-evaluating my life according to those who give me tips...and i have been with the god fearin folk of today, because i've been granted tips by one orthodox jew and a lover of butter pecan who had just came from church that's it...i wasn't meant to work |
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LiveJournal for look right through me.
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melancholy.
rushed.
pissed off.
tired.
predatory.
pensive.
nauseated.
bouncy.