(no subject)
Sunday, January 13, 2008
and he
we could stand there together, all of us, watching the cities burn. and you turn and say to me, this is it, this is what we've waited for. we grab hands and run through all the grass and wreckage into the forest, to begin again. there is nothing left and so we have everything, now. we can become new people and leave ourselves behind. tell stories of what we used to be over the fire and dig into the mud at night, hiding in the warmth.
i wanted to drive to our old house and see if my dreams reconstructed all the furniture, our lives there. i wanted it to all still be there, our junk on the porch and the kitchen smeared with remains of so many meals you cooked for me, your bedroom still warm from the heater and you, heating the bed. it's not that cold out but i would crawl in there with you and you'd roll over, sleepy, and say hey baby, and i would breathe hello in your face, tobacco and wine and toothpaste and perfume and we would slowly intertwine and kiss and kiss and make love, slow sweet love. fall asleep face to face. coming home to an empty bed on nights like this makes me so sad. it was only a year ago, to know i had six months of every night falling asleep next to you ahead of me. all this time seems like a fluid dream going one way or another it is hard to understand, sometimes, how things took on this linear appearance of us together, us not together, how it can't just go back and forth and how i'll never relive that no matter how much i dream it. feeling your memory in my arms does not make this house my own or yours. and i can't have it back, and i know it had to end because i shouldn't have had to put up with any of it, anything, there was just too much enduring and not enough love, or spoken love. but all i want is to be in that house, in that bed, face to face with you, you loving me the way i always dreamed you would. if i'd met you three girlfriends later. if i'd known who i was and how to stop crying at the most inappropriate times. now that there's nothing more appropriate all i can do is smoke and fall asleep at the slightest thought of those times, afternoons in bed, breakfast in bed, midnight movies and watching the rain fall on the porch. i remember watching it fall, out on the porch, and hating you, and telling you it was going to end if you didn't stop treating me this way. and i remember making love to you on that porch, wet from the warm rain and loving you, and wanting nothing more than the blending of our heat, of our bodies. it was always too much, and it was never enough. and i want your heat. i want your whispers in my ear. i wanted to drive there tonight, to go inside and it'd be freezing and i'd drop my phone and sleep on the floor where our bed used to be and dream, dream about you. god it hurts.
Friday, January 11, 2008
insert title here
mmm. another day off work at noon. i'm glad. it wasn't worth the money today, and my house is much cozier than the shop. pizza and a nap. yum.
i kept waking up last night despite copious amounts of whisky consumed before sleep. a late night phone call that seemed like a dream, but where i said everything i needed to say. three alarms barely got me up this morning and energy in a can has done nothing to assist me. i have one of craig's songs stuck in my head, and it's noisy. it is so gray today, and the leaves on the tree outside my window still refuse to fall. they cling to the tree, pale, brown, withered. everything smells like water. i wish i lived in the middle of nowhere, hibernating straight through this season.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
i’d rather be
i hate it when i see those stickers that say "i'd rather be fishing/hunting/golfing/etc" on people's cars. i mean, go do it. this is your life, you know? i was reading this book my mom sent me today, called blessed movement, or something, it's supposed to be really uplifting about how there is the biggest movement in human history that is happening right now, right under our noses, for social justice and human rights and environmentalism and all that great stuff and so we should all be full of hope and doing our parts, and it's talking in this really clinical language about the "disenfranchised poor" and all i can think is, that phrase means nothing. people talk about this shit in such vague terms that it becomes this total academic distraction instead of a phrase with any meaning. what it means is that there are people whose jobs don't pay them enough money so that they can do the things they want to do, so that they can spend more of their lives doing what they enjoy. i never get enough sleep because i'm always trying to even out my day: nine hours at the shop, nine hours to myself, is what i figure should be at least fair. but if i were working twelve hours a day? and had a family? fuck that. i'd be lucky if i had any time to myself. but you know, that's the point, right? the more time you have to do what you want to the less likely you are to be a productive member of society and be a clean, empty vessel ready for manufactured opinions and desires. i can never drive on the freeway without billboards screaming at me and i do a pretty good job of avoiding media but you know, internet and there are all these companies offering to fill needs i didn't have, but it's deeper than advertising, isn't it? there are so many people out there who will tell you how to think, how to act, how to be accepted, it's only natural in a way, we are social creatures who learn from each other, but i feel like it's abused, manipulated. it's not like a healthy fostering of dialogue in most cases, it's not to make you a better person or to help you figure out who you are. it's so manipulative, to make you into a person who will identify yourself with products and "lifestyles" and fill your needs with consumption and we spend so much time trying to figure out what it is we want, who we are, really, underneath all the crap, it's all this existential crisis youth shit but we never grow up, really. how many people out there know what they want, know what they are really looking for? or have found it? how many people have the freedom in their lives to obtain necessary food, shelter, and care and also hang around to enjoy those things? i can't wait until i'm 65 to finally do what i'd rather be doing. especially if this is a one-time go-round, this life business. why the hell am i wasting my time dealing with all this shit?
i shouldn't project my own angsty bullshit on to everyone else, i know. i just feel so aimless most of the time, and i feel like a lot of people are, but maybe i should listen to the dude who wrote this book but honestly, i opened it up just expecting to be pissed off and so far, i am. maybe if i just didn't expect to be pissed off i wouldn't be. maybe michelle is right and i should stand in front of the mirror and say yes to myself 35 times a day and that's all i need to become a better, happier person.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
rain in january?
it's weird, but i think everything is going to be okay.
it's super warm here. balmy. it started to rain just in the last half hour, a real downpour thunderstorm. but for the hour i was sitting in my car with my windows rolled down, feet hanging out, chain smoking and talking to my recent ex while my phone charged, the weather was gorgeous. i got off work an hour early and sat on the porch sewing new buttons on an old crappy sweater, which now looks much less crappy if just as old. i've lost enough weight in the year since i bought it that it buttons all the way without a problem so i thought i'd spruce it up and take it out for a winter spin. i've been watching dexter a lot these past few days and i'm about to sit down to the season finale...i have no idea where it's going, which is great. the first season was much more predictable. so i'm curled up here, in early january, with some tea and my christmas lights on, rain pouring outside and a kitty curled up at my feet, feeling something like peace. i do love ann arbor, but i'm also thinking i just might move to chicago in august when my lease here is up. as long as i'm just drifting and i've got friends out that way, why the hell not? it seems like a pretty awesome place to be. anyway, just idle things to daydream about.
here is the worst joke ever:
what did the 0 say to the 8?
nice belt!
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
dude!
SUNSHINE IS SO GREAT.
this time around phoenix is not bad. in fact, it's full of comforting memories from my childhood and adolesence. I love all you people. and i love not hating being here.
gonna go to mongolian hot pot and then zoolights with my dad and then go out and drink some liquor and look real good and love the lack of snow and generally enjoy myself. HELL YEAH.
so anyway, merry christmas everyone.
Monday, December 17, 2007
this is what happened.
so here's how it went:
i woke up on saturday feeling like shit. i didn't want to get up but he kept trying, i'd promised the day to him and he'd made breakfast already so I finally got up when I heard him starting to get mad. I managed to dress and then we ate. Talked about Modati. He took me out, took me to the hands-on kids museum. when we got there i had to go into the bathroom and just- sit for a few minutes and it felt like i either wasn't awake yet or like my head was ganging up on me somehow, whispering so many things to me that felt like violence and felt like wanting to run and i remembered how my first half-awake thought that morning was, i want to ruin all your plans. i spent a long time in there trying to get my head back where it belonged and when i thought i'd done a reasonable job I went back out and we walked around and did all the stuff and it was cool i guess but i felt like i was communicating the whole time from behind this thick blurry glass wall. he wanted to see the cow eyeball dissection but i'd already seen one in sixth grade, nearly fainted, didn't want to try again. so he went and looked but realized it'd be a long time so i said, let's go get hot chocolate and so we did. he seemed reluctant but hey, it's my day, right? and i felt like some sugar would wake me up or something. we talked for a while and i felt like such shit. it was cold outside and he wanted to do all this stuff and all i wanted to do was go back to bed, and he could see it and finally he said fine, if you're not in shape for this now we can postpone it's not a big deal. he says that but it is a big deal, was a big deal. so i asked if i could just go home and take a nap and then we could go to dinner and as soon as i said it i regretted it, thought i could pull myself together enough to make it through whatever he wanted to do but he wouldn't let me go back on it so we drove back to my place and i changed the cat litter and then we crawled in bed and i fell asleep right away. i think he did too. i woke up from this- prodigal dream. i don't know if that's the right word but it was a dream that made me feel changed, like everything was okay. in my dream, i went to this cafe with trevor and met crystal, and she showed me a picture of this girl, Amman, who had jumped off a thirty three story building and died. the picture was of her on the ground, dead. The girl was a good friend of crystal's. craig was there too, at the cafe, and it turned out he knew her as well and they were both very sad. i couldn't stop looking at the picture and imagining how it had been, and i couldn't decide if i envied or hated her. i think it was both. imagining her jump and her scream all the way down. the picture seemed wrong, but there it was. and then in my dream, trevor and i went to this other place and we had these chickens, we kept them in a box. not big gross chickens but little soft chicks. we had to raise them together, and breed them together and while we held them and sorted them into the boxes and talked about them all my anger towards him, all my uncertainty and the pain, it melted away and when i woke up from this dream i felt good. like, really good, refreshed somehow. as if something had turned around in my mind. and because i felt this way and we were lying in my bed, warm while it had just started snowing outside, i let him make love to me for the first time in probably weeks. i knew right away that it wouldn't do anything for me. ever since i have realized how much it hurts me, the way he doesn't feel about me, i can't get aroused for the life of me when we have sex. which is why we don't. i have made love to people who loved me and plenty more to people who didn't and i can feel the difference. and i can feel that when we do, he doesn't. it's just sex and he likes me and cares about me but what i want is to just be able to drown in it. in his love. but it's not there. i started crying halfway through but he didn't see because it was dark, and i was trying to hide it. it hurt so bad. we finished and i kept crying, i cried and i couldn't stop for a good hour. it just felt so awful. everything felt so awful. and it was right on the verge of my lips. telling him, you don't love me and you never will and get out. and i couldn't say them, i couldn't say the words. it just wouldn't come out and so instead i just cried and cried and when he left the room for something i hit up my vicodin stash and took one. my second to last one. it calmed me down like it always does and eventually i got out of bed and we watched dexter for a few hours and then looked outside, and it was a blizzard. for real! it's still going now. we went to krogers at 3:30am to get stuff figuring it'd be more dangerous today. it was a stupid idea. it was awful outside. he drove. we got our stuff and then he decided to leave and make it home before the weather got any worse. so he left. i put on dr. katz and watched the snow for a while, and then fell asleep curled up with my cat.
this is why i am still with my boyfriend. because i am a masochist, and because i love him and so even though he is hurting me so badly i cannot give up yet. do i love him? i am probably just entrenched in the status quo. you tell me. this is far too personal to make public but i am posting it anyway.
Monday, December 10, 2007
i am tired.
and sick. i thought all the vodka made it better but it turns out all the stress from this weekend and my cats and david lynch made it worse. i left snot all over ryan's couch. i. am. so. goddamn. tired.
and tomorrow's monday already...bloody hell.
i don't like anything or anyone today.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
also
drew isn't coming. sadness.
i am tired and trying to push some things in a direction that i don't want to push them. but i feel like i owe it to myself to try a little harder. try a little harder?
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
work slave whine whine drink work
you know what i am tired of? is working so goddamned hard for the money. i knew I should have gotten that fifth. so many things need taking care of and the last thing i am interested in is doing any of that. but, alas. i wish someone would feed me, i can't find food on my own. it's too much work.
work work work. slave slave slave. whine whine whine. drink drink drink. work work work. work work. work work work work. whine. work
Monday, December 03, 2007
oh and did i mention
DREW IS COMING!!!!!!!! on thursday for the weekend.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
mmmmm
i feel kinda gross, i dunno if it was the cheetos or the cigarettes. i think the cheetos. we did get tickets, we didn't get backstage, but that's fine. drinking and smoking and talking in the back of the van until all hours. dangerous drive: snow, sleet, ice. it's still snowing but we are home safe. i for one am glad. it's bedtime. but oh, god, i miss tucson tonight.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
where i am
goddammit, i was just on my way home from modati and i hit someone's car in the parking lot. that parking lot is ridiculously narrow and designed for like, two cars and there were a bunch in there. so there was a big event going on there and i didn't want to look for the person so i just left a note. i took their taillight off, mostly, but it's still held in by wiring and i left a big scratch. also, my sideview mirror is now gone. fucking stupid. i wonder how much cash that's going to run me...i hope they aren't assholes about it. some people are about their cars.
other than that i got off work early, got to the doctor's, got my prescriptions filled and all that taken care of, found some new jeans, and tomorrow is detroit all day with ryan o'reilly. shirt delivery to modest mouse and then the show. we're supposed to get two free tickets from the merch dude but the details are iffy and so now my head is all full of doubts. i think if we don't get them i might cry a little. i am really looking forward to this and it's a total providence opportunity. wednesday i drank a lot with matt, thursday we had band practice and it was awesome, three hour all out jam session of goodness at the dreamland in the basement. followed by christian slater wannabe working at the double eagle and patty melts. today i feel a little better about things than i have. a little less tired, i guess. our modati meeting was just me and alex walking all over town fliering for the with punch! show next friday. i didn't think it'd take two and a half hours but it did. lucky i bundled up because it was ass cold. he bought me a hot chocolate even though i said i didn't want one, which was sweet cause i really only said that because i couldn't buy myself one. i wanted to sew tonight and maybe i still will but eh...dunno. i wish i could have found that zipper. i really don't want to go all the way to joann's this weekend but i guess i'll have to, unless i find some random textile place in detroit tomorrow. the old guy working at dawn treader gave us a political rant about how there are all kinds of laws in place now in the us and they are building camps for people to be interned in and it'll start when our generation is most vulnerable and least expecting it. he almost made me want to care but then i remembered we're sort of doomed anyway. one day i'll look back on all these days i spent wondering how that doom would play out when i wasn't really all that close to it, just living in the shadows, and i'll probably kick myself. a lot of people tell me i'm too cynical for my age, but really, i don't think i'm anything abnormal.
and he
we could stand there together, all of us, watching the cities burn. and you turn and say to me, this is it, this is what we've waited for. we grab hands and run through all the grass and wreckage into the forest, to begin again. there is nothing left and so we have everything, now. we can become new people and leave ourselves behind. tell stories of what we used to be over the fire and dig into the mud at night, hiding in the warmth.
i wanted to drive to our old house and see if my dreams reconstructed all the furniture, our lives there. i wanted it to all still be there, our junk on the porch and the kitchen smeared with remains of so many meals you cooked for me, your bedroom still warm from the heater and you, heating the bed. it's not that cold out but i would crawl in there with you and you'd roll over, sleepy, and say hey baby, and i would breathe hello in your face, tobacco and wine and toothpaste and perfume and we would slowly intertwine and kiss and kiss and make love, slow sweet love. fall asleep face to face. coming home to an empty bed on nights like this makes me so sad. it was only a year ago, to know i had six months of every night falling asleep next to you ahead of me. all this time seems like a fluid dream going one way or another it is hard to understand, sometimes, how things took on this linear appearance of us together, us not together, how it can't just go back and forth and how i'll never relive that no matter how much i dream it. feeling your memory in my arms does not make this house my own or yours. and i can't have it back, and i know it had to end because i shouldn't have had to put up with any of it, anything, there was just too much enduring and not enough love, or spoken love. but all i want is to be in that house, in that bed, face to face with you, you loving me the way i always dreamed you would. if i'd met you three girlfriends later. if i'd known who i was and how to stop crying at the most inappropriate times. now that there's nothing more appropriate all i can do is smoke and fall asleep at the slightest thought of those times, afternoons in bed, breakfast in bed, midnight movies and watching the rain fall on the porch. i remember watching it fall, out on the porch, and hating you, and telling you it was going to end if you didn't stop treating me this way. and i remember making love to you on that porch, wet from the warm rain and loving you, and wanting nothing more than the blending of our heat, of our bodies. it was always too much, and it was never enough. and i want your heat. i want your whispers in my ear. i wanted to drive there tonight, to go inside and it'd be freezing and i'd drop my phone and sleep on the floor where our bed used to be and dream, dream about you. god it hurts.
Friday, January 11, 2008
insert title here
mmm. another day off work at noon. i'm glad. it wasn't worth the money today, and my house is much cozier than the shop. pizza and a nap. yum.
i kept waking up last night despite copious amounts of whisky consumed before sleep. a late night phone call that seemed like a dream, but where i said everything i needed to say. three alarms barely got me up this morning and energy in a can has done nothing to assist me. i have one of craig's songs stuck in my head, and it's noisy. it is so gray today, and the leaves on the tree outside my window still refuse to fall. they cling to the tree, pale, brown, withered. everything smells like water. i wish i lived in the middle of nowhere, hibernating straight through this season.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
i’d rather be
i hate it when i see those stickers that say "i'd rather be fishing/hunting/golfing/etc" on people's cars. i mean, go do it. this is your life, you know? i was reading this book my mom sent me today, called blessed movement, or something, it's supposed to be really uplifting about how there is the biggest movement in human history that is happening right now, right under our noses, for social justice and human rights and environmentalism and all that great stuff and so we should all be full of hope and doing our parts, and it's talking in this really clinical language about the "disenfranchised poor" and all i can think is, that phrase means nothing. people talk about this shit in such vague terms that it becomes this total academic distraction instead of a phrase with any meaning. what it means is that there are people whose jobs don't pay them enough money so that they can do the things they want to do, so that they can spend more of their lives doing what they enjoy. i never get enough sleep because i'm always trying to even out my day: nine hours at the shop, nine hours to myself, is what i figure should be at least fair. but if i were working twelve hours a day? and had a family? fuck that. i'd be lucky if i had any time to myself. but you know, that's the point, right? the more time you have to do what you want to the less likely you are to be a productive member of society and be a clean, empty vessel ready for manufactured opinions and desires. i can never drive on the freeway without billboards screaming at me and i do a pretty good job of avoiding media but you know, internet and there are all these companies offering to fill needs i didn't have, but it's deeper than advertising, isn't it? there are so many people out there who will tell you how to think, how to act, how to be accepted, it's only natural in a way, we are social creatures who learn from each other, but i feel like it's abused, manipulated. it's not like a healthy fostering of dialogue in most cases, it's not to make you a better person or to help you figure out who you are. it's so manipulative, to make you into a person who will identify yourself with products and "lifestyles" and fill your needs with consumption and we spend so much time trying to figure out what it is we want, who we are, really, underneath all the crap, it's all this existential crisis youth shit but we never grow up, really. how many people out there know what they want, know what they are really looking for? or have found it? how many people have the freedom in their lives to obtain necessary food, shelter, and care and also hang around to enjoy those things? i can't wait until i'm 65 to finally do what i'd rather be doing. especially if this is a one-time go-round, this life business. why the hell am i wasting my time dealing with all this shit?
i shouldn't project my own angsty bullshit on to everyone else, i know. i just feel so aimless most of the time, and i feel like a lot of people are, but maybe i should listen to the dude who wrote this book but honestly, i opened it up just expecting to be pissed off and so far, i am. maybe if i just didn't expect to be pissed off i wouldn't be. maybe michelle is right and i should stand in front of the mirror and say yes to myself 35 times a day and that's all i need to become a better, happier person.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
rain in january?
it's weird, but i think everything is going to be okay.
it's super warm here. balmy. it started to rain just in the last half hour, a real downpour thunderstorm. but for the hour i was sitting in my car with my windows rolled down, feet hanging out, chain smoking and talking to my recent ex while my phone charged, the weather was gorgeous. i got off work an hour early and sat on the porch sewing new buttons on an old crappy sweater, which now looks much less crappy if just as old. i've lost enough weight in the year since i bought it that it buttons all the way without a problem so i thought i'd spruce it up and take it out for a winter spin. i've been watching dexter a lot these past few days and i'm about to sit down to the season finale...i have no idea where it's going, which is great. the first season was much more predictable. so i'm curled up here, in early january, with some tea and my christmas lights on, rain pouring outside and a kitty curled up at my feet, feeling something like peace. i do love ann arbor, but i'm also thinking i just might move to chicago in august when my lease here is up. as long as i'm just drifting and i've got friends out that way, why the hell not? it seems like a pretty awesome place to be. anyway, just idle things to daydream about.
here is the worst joke ever:
what did the 0 say to the 8?
nice belt!
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
dude!
SUNSHINE IS SO GREAT.
this time around phoenix is not bad. in fact, it's full of comforting memories from my childhood and adolesence. I love all you people. and i love not hating being here.
gonna go to mongolian hot pot and then zoolights with my dad and then go out and drink some liquor and look real good and love the lack of snow and generally enjoy myself. HELL YEAH.
so anyway, merry christmas everyone.
Monday, December 17, 2007
this is what happened.
so here's how it went:
i woke up on saturday feeling like shit. i didn't want to get up but he kept trying, i'd promised the day to him and he'd made breakfast already so I finally got up when I heard him starting to get mad. I managed to dress and then we ate. Talked about Modati. He took me out, took me to the hands-on kids museum. when we got there i had to go into the bathroom and just- sit for a few minutes and it felt like i either wasn't awake yet or like my head was ganging up on me somehow, whispering so many things to me that felt like violence and felt like wanting to run and i remembered how my first half-awake thought that morning was, i want to ruin all your plans. i spent a long time in there trying to get my head back where it belonged and when i thought i'd done a reasonable job I went back out and we walked around and did all the stuff and it was cool i guess but i felt like i was communicating the whole time from behind this thick blurry glass wall. he wanted to see the cow eyeball dissection but i'd already seen one in sixth grade, nearly fainted, didn't want to try again. so he went and looked but realized it'd be a long time so i said, let's go get hot chocolate and so we did. he seemed reluctant but hey, it's my day, right? and i felt like some sugar would wake me up or something. we talked for a while and i felt like such shit. it was cold outside and he wanted to do all this stuff and all i wanted to do was go back to bed, and he could see it and finally he said fine, if you're not in shape for this now we can postpone it's not a big deal. he says that but it is a big deal, was a big deal. so i asked if i could just go home and take a nap and then we could go to dinner and as soon as i said it i regretted it, thought i could pull myself together enough to make it through whatever he wanted to do but he wouldn't let me go back on it so we drove back to my place and i changed the cat litter and then we crawled in bed and i fell asleep right away. i think he did too. i woke up from this- prodigal dream. i don't know if that's the right word but it was a dream that made me feel changed, like everything was okay. in my dream, i went to this cafe with trevor and met crystal, and she showed me a picture of this girl, Amman, who had jumped off a thirty three story building and died. the picture was of her on the ground, dead. The girl was a good friend of crystal's. craig was there too, at the cafe, and it turned out he knew her as well and they were both very sad. i couldn't stop looking at the picture and imagining how it had been, and i couldn't decide if i envied or hated her. i think it was both. imagining her jump and her scream all the way down. the picture seemed wrong, but there it was. and then in my dream, trevor and i went to this other place and we had these chickens, we kept them in a box. not big gross chickens but little soft chicks. we had to raise them together, and breed them together and while we held them and sorted them into the boxes and talked about them all my anger towards him, all my uncertainty and the pain, it melted away and when i woke up from this dream i felt good. like, really good, refreshed somehow. as if something had turned around in my mind. and because i felt this way and we were lying in my bed, warm while it had just started snowing outside, i let him make love to me for the first time in probably weeks. i knew right away that it wouldn't do anything for me. ever since i have realized how much it hurts me, the way he doesn't feel about me, i can't get aroused for the life of me when we have sex. which is why we don't. i have made love to people who loved me and plenty more to people who didn't and i can feel the difference. and i can feel that when we do, he doesn't. it's just sex and he likes me and cares about me but what i want is to just be able to drown in it. in his love. but it's not there. i started crying halfway through but he didn't see because it was dark, and i was trying to hide it. it hurt so bad. we finished and i kept crying, i cried and i couldn't stop for a good hour. it just felt so awful. everything felt so awful. and it was right on the verge of my lips. telling him, you don't love me and you never will and get out. and i couldn't say them, i couldn't say the words. it just wouldn't come out and so instead i just cried and cried and when he left the room for something i hit up my vicodin stash and took one. my second to last one. it calmed me down like it always does and eventually i got out of bed and we watched dexter for a few hours and then looked outside, and it was a blizzard. for real! it's still going now. we went to krogers at 3:30am to get stuff figuring it'd be more dangerous today. it was a stupid idea. it was awful outside. he drove. we got our stuff and then he decided to leave and make it home before the weather got any worse. so he left. i put on dr. katz and watched the snow for a while, and then fell asleep curled up with my cat.
this is why i am still with my boyfriend. because i am a masochist, and because i love him and so even though he is hurting me so badly i cannot give up yet. do i love him? i am probably just entrenched in the status quo. you tell me. this is far too personal to make public but i am posting it anyway.
Monday, December 10, 2007
i am tired.
and sick. i thought all the vodka made it better but it turns out all the stress from this weekend and my cats and david lynch made it worse. i left snot all over ryan's couch. i. am. so. goddamn. tired.
and tomorrow's monday already...bloody hell.
i don't like anything or anyone today.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
also
drew isn't coming. sadness.
i am tired and trying to push some things in a direction that i don't want to push them. but i feel like i owe it to myself to try a little harder. try a little harder?
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
work slave whine whine drink work
you know what i am tired of? is working so goddamned hard for the money. i knew I should have gotten that fifth. so many things need taking care of and the last thing i am interested in is doing any of that. but, alas. i wish someone would feed me, i can't find food on my own. it's too much work.
work work work. slave slave slave. whine whine whine. drink drink drink. work work work. work work. work work work work. whine. work
Monday, December 03, 2007
oh and did i mention
DREW IS COMING!!!!!!!! on thursday for the weekend.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
mmmmm
i feel kinda gross, i dunno if it was the cheetos or the cigarettes. i think the cheetos. we did get tickets, we didn't get backstage, but that's fine. drinking and smoking and talking in the back of the van until all hours. dangerous drive: snow, sleet, ice. it's still snowing but we are home safe. i for one am glad. it's bedtime. but oh, god, i miss tucson tonight.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
where i am
goddammit, i was just on my way home from modati and i hit someone's car in the parking lot. that parking lot is ridiculously narrow and designed for like, two cars and there were a bunch in there. so there was a big event going on there and i didn't want to look for the person so i just left a note. i took their taillight off, mostly, but it's still held in by wiring and i left a big scratch. also, my sideview mirror is now gone. fucking stupid. i wonder how much cash that's going to run me...i hope they aren't assholes about it. some people are about their cars.
other than that i got off work early, got to the doctor's, got my prescriptions filled and all that taken care of, found some new jeans, and tomorrow is detroit all day with ryan o'reilly. shirt delivery to modest mouse and then the show. we're supposed to get two free tickets from the merch dude but the details are iffy and so now my head is all full of doubts. i think if we don't get them i might cry a little. i am really looking forward to this and it's a total providence opportunity. wednesday i drank a lot with matt, thursday we had band practice and it was awesome, three hour all out jam session of goodness at the dreamland in the basement. followed by christian slater wannabe working at the double eagle and patty melts. today i feel a little better about things than i have. a little less tired, i guess. our modati meeting was just me and alex walking all over town fliering for the with punch! show next friday. i didn't think it'd take two and a half hours but it did. lucky i bundled up because it was ass cold. he bought me a hot chocolate even though i said i didn't want one, which was sweet cause i really only said that because i couldn't buy myself one. i wanted to sew tonight and maybe i still will but eh...dunno. i wish i could have found that zipper. i really don't want to go all the way to joann's this weekend but i guess i'll have to, unless i find some random textile place in detroit tomorrow. the old guy working at dawn treader gave us a political rant about how there are all kinds of laws in place now in the us and they are building camps for people to be interned in and it'll start when our generation is most vulnerable and least expecting it. he almost made me want to care but then i remembered we're sort of doomed anyway. one day i'll look back on all these days i spent wondering how that doom would play out when i wasn't really all that close to it, just living in the shadows, and i'll probably kick myself. a lot of people tell me i'm too cynical for my age, but really, i don't think i'm anything abnormal.