(no subject)
this is too funny.
i just revisited this journal and i have this list here of poems to write. it's private, only i can see it. but here, a cut-and-paste of funny parts.
it's funny because it's so random.
i mean, *i know what i'm talking about.
and some of you might know what one or two of them mean.
but it's just hilarious, random random random.
*coming out = me at camp pretending
*gerald's (windmill cookies)
*bruno mirror story
*ali/al-x dance poem
*laura--nooses, new years
*hannah, dancing in kitchen, kosher macaroons
*touch (hide and seek, knowing someone's there, never being surprised by touching flesh)
*meredith dream 2 = little girl, pulling veins, fairytale land
*kegan--woman to man, CAN I WRITE THIS POEM?
*tsunami, boy in wave
*professional whistler dies of flu
*woman kills herself so her blind sons can see
*cannibal man in germany
note: some of these have been written.
the gerald's poem.
the coming out poem.
the ali/al-x dance poem.
the hannah/macaroons poem.
so probably you've read them even if you read the other journal.
i don't know why i want to write here tonight.
wine probably
and i'm trying very hard to write at all
and so i figure maybe i need to revisit or something.
i don't know.
i don't even know if anyone reads this ever anymore.
why they would, even.
tonight it's the following things on my mind:
women named shannon. i mean, what's with that, anyway?
wine wine wine.
etta james (ohmygod)
this place is dead almost.
but not. i mean i still love this journal more.
and i hate hate hate locking things. i moved and locked it all. and i haven't made a single friend since, i mean not on lj.
and that's how i found hookbeer and erin and laurie and it's just so sad to me to not have that open anymore.
i've had about ten people tell me in the past month that i look irish. i've had about five people tell me i look albanian. and a few others have said "eastern european" or "russian." all this without prompting.
for real, at work yesterday this man asked me a question while i was changing the trash and i turned to look at him and he goes, "WOW, you're irish." and i was like, "i mean... i guess i am heritage-wise" and he goes, "you mean you aren't *from there? like, you weren't born there?"
i mean wait.
do all people in ireland look irish?
i mean, if you're born in ireland is it obvious?
whatever.
it is a compliment to be irish or albanian or eastern european or russian. i don't know why i'm complaining. i guess because they're all so insistent. "she looks albanian, doesn't she?" "yes, albanian, definitely."
HELLO, I'M RIGHT HERE AND I'M NOT ALBANIAN.
but it's fine.
it's something about the small lips and the weird ass nose.
i don't know.
wow let it spill.
dates? i keep saying show up on my doorstep.
no one ever does.
i just revisited this journal and i have this list here of poems to write. it's private, only i can see it. but here, a cut-and-paste of funny parts.
it's funny because it's so random.
i mean, *i know what i'm talking about.
and some of you might know what one or two of them mean.
but it's just hilarious, random random random.
*coming out = me at camp pretending
*gerald's (windmill cookies)
*bruno mirror story
*ali/al-x dance poem
*laura--nooses, new years
*hannah, dancing in kitchen, kosher macaroons
*touch (hide and seek, knowing someone's there, never being surprised by touching flesh)
*meredith dream 2 = little girl, pulling veins, fairytale land
*kegan--woman to man, CAN I WRITE THIS POEM?
*tsunami, boy in wave
*professional whistler dies of flu
*woman kills herself so her blind sons can see
*cannibal man in germany
note: some of these have been written.
the gerald's poem.
the coming out poem.
the ali/al-x dance poem.
the hannah/macaroons poem.
so probably you've read them even if you read the other journal.
i don't know why i want to write here tonight.
wine probably
and i'm trying very hard to write at all
and so i figure maybe i need to revisit or something.
i don't know.
i don't even know if anyone reads this ever anymore.
why they would, even.
tonight it's the following things on my mind:
women named shannon. i mean, what's with that, anyway?
wine wine wine.
etta james (ohmygod)
this place is dead almost.
but not. i mean i still love this journal more.
and i hate hate hate locking things. i moved and locked it all. and i haven't made a single friend since, i mean not on lj.
and that's how i found hookbeer and erin and laurie and it's just so sad to me to not have that open anymore.
i've had about ten people tell me in the past month that i look irish. i've had about five people tell me i look albanian. and a few others have said "eastern european" or "russian." all this without prompting.
for real, at work yesterday this man asked me a question while i was changing the trash and i turned to look at him and he goes, "WOW, you're irish." and i was like, "i mean... i guess i am heritage-wise" and he goes, "you mean you aren't *from there? like, you weren't born there?"
i mean wait.
do all people in ireland look irish?
i mean, if you're born in ireland is it obvious?
whatever.
it is a compliment to be irish or albanian or eastern european or russian. i don't know why i'm complaining. i guess because they're all so insistent. "she looks albanian, doesn't she?" "yes, albanian, definitely."
HELLO, I'M RIGHT HERE AND I'M NOT ALBANIAN.
but it's fine.
it's something about the small lips and the weird ass nose.
i don't know.
wow let it spill.
dates? i keep saying show up on my doorstep.
no one ever does.