hearts break i won't talk about it. milk spills i won't add to it.
i've spent the weekend in westchester because my parents went, unexpectedly, on vacation with their best friends and i was obligated to play parent to my little sister (and because i needed out of my life/social obligations so terribly that i would have payed for their vacation just to have their house). i'm about to pick catrina (housemate/daughter of parent's best friends) up and drive her and i home to l'auberge. it was a sad and boring weekend, but one that i desperately needed. i feel like i got my money's worth even though i still have to watch a holocaust documentary tonight.
last week i thought i saw my 7th grade english teacher, caroline dumaine, on the subway platform... it wasn't her. i've been thinking about her ever since. a few months ago i saw yoko ono walking down the street. i was running to an atm so i could take cash out with which to pay my waxer an appropriate tip (don't tip your waxer on a card, it's gauche). i felt pretty and skinny and hopeful, it was late december, i guess... the part of this winter that was global warming and a lot of drinking and getting sick every two wees. last night i dreamt that i was fucking yoko ono and we took pictures naked together and they were on the cover of rolling stone. i pretty much dreamt that i was john lennon. this morning i was in a terrible fucking mood, felt hungover (even though i hadn't had anything to drink last night) and looked like shit shit shit. after staying in bed and re-reading the zooey section of franny and zooey (for the fifteenth time) i ordered delivery chinese food for my sister and i for lunch and went out to buy coffee in town (why did i get delivery? why didn't i just make the coffee? fuck you). caroline dumaine was in the coffee shop with her husband. i looked like shit and felt like a sham so i hid under my hood, ignored her, bought my coffee, and got into the car and drove around for a while.
i asked my two best lady friends whether or not i should get my septum pierced. they both gave an intense no. because i trust their opinions implicitly i think i'm going to do it anyways. thoughts? feelings?
edit: 1:02 am tuesday, i just spent the hundred dollars that i needed to live on this week on sex toys. i guess i've made my priorities clear.
last week i thought i saw my 7th grade english teacher, caroline dumaine, on the subway platform... it wasn't her. i've been thinking about her ever since. a few months ago i saw yoko ono walking down the street. i was running to an atm so i could take cash out with which to pay my waxer an appropriate tip (don't tip your waxer on a card, it's gauche). i felt pretty and skinny and hopeful, it was late december, i guess... the part of this winter that was global warming and a lot of drinking and getting sick every two wees. last night i dreamt that i was fucking yoko ono and we took pictures naked together and they were on the cover of rolling stone. i pretty much dreamt that i was john lennon. this morning i was in a terrible fucking mood, felt hungover (even though i hadn't had anything to drink last night) and looked like shit shit shit. after staying in bed and re-reading the zooey section of franny and zooey (for the fifteenth time) i ordered delivery chinese food for my sister and i for lunch and went out to buy coffee in town (why did i get delivery? why didn't i just make the coffee? fuck you). caroline dumaine was in the coffee shop with her husband. i looked like shit and felt like a sham so i hid under my hood, ignored her, bought my coffee, and got into the car and drove around for a while.
i asked my two best lady friends whether or not i should get my septum pierced. they both gave an intense no. because i trust their opinions implicitly i think i'm going to do it anyways. thoughts? feelings?
edit: 1:02 am tuesday, i just spent the hundred dollars that i needed to live on this week on sex toys. i guess i've made my priorities clear.