feelin' good was easy, lord, when he sang the blues
i've got a few stories too incriminating for livejournal
so remind me and i can tell you in RL
happiness
"yeah but we hate when our guy friends start to like us...it just makes it weird."
madz& i took the ferry to sausalito
the seagulls look fake
wow i look queer but it's a cute picture in gen.
fun with paint
birthdays call for going hard on tuesday nights
she's cool
wine& cheese; botanical gardens
love
ahahhahaahaaaa this is from the russian festival..
like, what?!
i'd tell you what was going on
but
i just
nope
those had to come off
don't even try not to laugh at mad's face
mad has tims
aw this was the first night back in SF! getting to buisness
last night, mad, abbeyrose, elise& i went to north beach, where we're always treated like princess. princesses. we all have a reciprocal crush on the manager who doesn't speak english, just italian and spanish. rounds of shots and tirimsu on the house, constant flirtatious but not condescending attention, being showered in compliments,
"you ladies are making our resturaunt so beautiful right now! do you mind if i sit with you?"
...
"absolutely not. "
just being talked to in a wicked heavy accent that you don't understand but are smiling that gay smile that you can't help but gaze at the speaker because you're just all like...omg <3333
...or at least that's what happens to me..
the men escorted me to the bathroom..like arms linked, i felt like i was being walked into the ballroom in the von trapp house. they pulled out our chairs, lit our cigarettes and refilled our mojitos. when they talked to us they'd touch our shoulders or graze our arms like really romantically but not creepily. which is actually really important cause usually older men make us feel violated and it's not okay or cool. but basically these italians worship women. and i wasn't mad. slash i was dazzled.
it was like oh, this is what charming means.
in conclusion, where's my italian boyfriend? hello.
i wrote this sitting at outside where we can smoke and drink under heated lamps
denied a ride in the limo
city sidewalks sparkle like crystal as i stare in disbelief
Paulo lights my cigarette, per favore, e gratzie a ti
it's better for us to try and get drinks
without a fake id.
being a girl is so much fun
sipping through straws lime and rum
i feel like my life has just begun
and i wouldn't trade places with anyone.
elise in blue, abbey rose is red.
but black fabric drapes over mad's and my body instead.
party tuesday! and every seven of the week
this california weather, without a sweater
back east i remember februaries so bleak.
already our red cheeks from basking are sun-kissed;
the italian men here must have thought it's rays had missed-
pecking our faces in the most gentlemanly of places
with the kindest intentions and puckered lips.
"buena sera, bellisimas."
"bonjourno, princepesas."
we went to ^giorgio^'s apartment for some beers and joints with his scottish roommate whose red hair made me think of ron weasely.
tuesday night (spontaneity)became 3am but when the boys asked us if we'd make the trek to ocean beach for a bonfire we head on withoyt delay.
i felt so lucky, wearing my favorite dress from spain and sitting in the sand, listening the wind and huge waves crash, sipping heinikens and warming up by the fire...sculpting a mermaid with madeline, not thinking about class tomorrow...
they got us a cab and walked us to campus to make sure we got home safe. 6am called me to bed.
some boys are really nice
like, thanks for taking care of me
i don't care if anyone disapproves of my lifestyle because i'm comfortable.
i have partied every single day since i've been back
but i'm doing wicked well in my classes
i finally got it together
got over high school bullshit
and i've never been so happy
minus being 16
because i had it so good back then, better than i thought
we all kinda did i think
mad has the opportunity to work here over the summer full time.
she's deciding if she should just take it and love living here or go back home for "one last summer." soco amaretto.
because she has the rest of her life to work.
it makes me think, really hard.
also elise's friend, really good friend, in fact the boy who in the same night kissed and told her that he thought they would be together forever
overdosed on heroin and died.
i can't even imagine her pain.
it just made me realize getting mad at people for stupid things and letting friendships go over shit that doesn't even matter...well, it just can't happen.
elise is real brave.
she deserves every tear
i hardly ever get upset anymore about, well, anything
'm just like.. "oh, whatever".
it's not so much apathy as it is just dealing with whatever comes and not freaking out about it.
my perspective is a lot better. lsd aided an epiphany.
i've learned a lot, in and outside of class
it's important not to satiate any sort of appetite with unhealthy toxins
but it is to fulfill cravings with just a taste.
like..
an obvious example is that i'm eating a lot healthier
instead of eating a chocolate bar 'cause i have the munchiessss, i can take a few bites and enjoy the taste. and eat something healthy to fill me up.
i used to line myself with alcohol and drugs (oh and and candyy, and at one point lots of emo music...hhhss)
but i've discovered the beauty of moderation.
of course, sometimes i still eat a whole candy bar
and get fffed
but i am living a lot better
and using my mind
like you wouldn't know
kids sit around whining about not being able to go out 'cause they don't have fakes.
we don't hang out with them because they are not fun.
i don''t blame the guys for not trying...because it just never works. and that sucks. soz.
but girls? fucking come on! it takes ten minutes to make yourself look a little older and kind of sexy but not trashy.. like if you aren't lacking in appealing physical features to the extreme..
i'm not saying it's right, but i lYkE t0tAlLy r0lL w/ PrETtiE BiTchEz
and because of that we get served more often than not
sure we get kicked out of places
(like all the time, but it's fun) because san francisco seems to only be serious about recycling and underage drinking.
but how can you not even try
if a girl is bartending we don't even thinkk about asking for a drink, she'll ID us.
but if it's a guy you walk up. confidence.
say, "how's it going?"
and flash one of those smiles
but not a stupid smile 'cause then you just look wicked gay and uncool
say what kind of alcohol you want.
no ''uhm can i have like some vodka.. with cranberry juice?'' and playing with your hair or fixing your necklace
you say, " three stellas and a cranberry absolut."
"rocks with lime?"
"please." and smile again
we tip real well the first time
kind of outrageously
but then basically for the rest of the night.. :]
till you go up for the third round
and some ho comes out of nowhere and asks for ID
and we make a quick getaway to somewhere down the street
also, i know where i want to live
in that tower yeah
california dreamin', pink lemonade and the sweet scent of cannabis
thirty minutes to capture an essence
before Apollo makes his move
madz sketches the scene framed in silver smoke from incense
with skill to match those whose works decorate the lourve.
freckles speckle shoulders bare
as rays are glazing us over in tan
pale as manilla, european vanilla
i thank the dios for san fran
when the sun hits my eyelashes
they've got glittering rainbows at the ends.
then it's the kind of thing where
you have to not look at it to see it.
it's so hard not to stare at the sun
jaw-dropped mesmerized at its splendor.
i catch sight of passing clouds; buffers to our life source
move into the light! cascading shade- there's nothing worse
on a day like this
when classes were skipped
work was not happening and sour D js were hit.
spirits soar and i shed not a tear
fuck yeah, a funk drum circle and hackey sac.
whenever i make the flight 'way from here
i'm california dreamin' for the lifestyle i hold dear.
massachusetts? how could i ever go back?
i stand in awe of beauty
time is forgotten
and dreams come true
here where i reside
in a place with status just shy of paradise
because here
i'm without you.
i feel like my entries are long letters home.
love always, and i mean always,
erin
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