Ma fleur
Ninety degree day sweat
new running sneakers
Neckface and Fletchy
Neckface, Fletchy, and Chianti.
Neckface, you lushhhhhhhh.
More Chianti the next day (Father's day) with the family in the bronx little italy
(an EXCeLLENT place called Mario's)
I drink like my aunts do, but I don't get ridiculous like my aunts do.
I DID put a spoon on my nose though because I'd always wanted to learn how to do that.
Aunt one: post-spoon success
Aunt two: Post tri-bottle emptiness.
Grandpa seemed pleased. He had a bite of the chocolate mousse and dad laughed hysterically at the face he made afterward, he looked just like Shakespeare after beef jerky.
That mousse was DEADLY.
My uncle Ray told me a story about driving down the autobon in germany in a shitty volkswagon with my grandpa and a bee flew in the window and went down his shorts and stung him on the balls.
There was actually the question, "WAIT??? THE BEANS OR THE FRANK?????"
and I said, "the beans" and then so did uncle ray.
and then my aunt (1) said nutsack.
The entire restaurant was filled with paintings by a C. Liquori. They were beautiful.
I wonder if he did the paint-job on the school bus that I saw on the way home.
Woo, family double shoot.
That dude with my aunt was our waitor. He touched me on the back as I was leaving the way Luke did the first time he touched me and I turned around and shook his hand and thanked him and I could tell that the touch had been out of a pure, honest, pleasure of aqquaintance.
Which is quite nice.
For some reason I have suspicion to think that he might also have been the owner.
I have no idea why I think that.
--
Snick couch.
Snick Smitten
Sarah smitten
Cameritten
No more Alan for a month. He surprised me many times this week, however nothing was more surprising than the last moments I saw him. Drove home listening to the song "From California" by the new amsterdams with a smile and then I was sad that I hadn't made him a mix cd for his trip.
(The one he made me for my birthday is fucking incredible.)
--
It's been a trying period of daily struggles these past couple of weeks.
Saw my new psychologist yesterday.
He had a tiny black chiuhuahua. or whatever. that fell asleep in my lap as I spoke.
I was fascinated by the fact that he actually listened and responded to me and did not say, "Well, you seem like you are very put together despite hardships."
He suggested I see a pharmapsychologist in order to get some adderall and then continue to see him for my 'myriad of psychological and emotional issues.'
He's seen my mother throughout all her ordeals, my mom and father during their marriage problems, and my older brother.
He says that our family, for some reason, has been "through the wringer."
Nice guy though. First one to suggest a theory that I hadn't previously considered.
See, he met me and said, "I met you whne you were a little girl. Wait. Were you the one who had to fold your sock tips over because you didn't like the seam on your toes???"
I laughed because he'd remembered that and then explained how I had several compulsions as a child incorporaing socks, door locks, and even number increments.
(walking on a sidewalk crack? NOT an option)
I was fucking nicholson in as good as it gets. surriously.
Anyway, later on he suggested that my chaotic childhood may have incubated those compulsions as a way for me to install my own regiment of order in my life.
Simple and solid theory, I wonder why I never considered that.
Things are going to be alright this time.
(Lessen the pain but continue the struggle; the process)
--
So has there ever been a corona advertisement to the song, "my sharona?"
--
rachel makes me laugh.
LetYrEarthQuake (9:25:21 AM): gianna. i dont know whats wrong with me. this morning i had a dream about eating tuna. so i woke up and instinctly went to the cabinet where in which tuna would be. and I made myself tuna and crackers. this is strange because i have only eaten tuna one other time in my life and that was last semester when panera messed up my order, but i was too hungry to go back. whats strange is that i feel as though this is a good thing and i dont mind it so much.
giaspank (9:25:22 AM): I'm not trying to twist your niblets, I'm trying to save your life.
LetYrEarthQuake (9:25:45 AM): i immediately thought of you when i slipped back into cognitive thinking mode. well, you and "what the fuck am i eating tuna for? do i even LIKE tuna?"
--
(I just finished women by buk)
Bukowski says that love is for "guitar players, catholics, and chess freaks."
Gianna thinks that love is "an italian giving up eating garlic because their lover is a vampire.
Private Donut thinks love is a whollllllle lot of headlight fluid.
I'm going for a run.
over and out
new running sneakers
Neckface and Fletchy
Neckface, Fletchy, and Chianti.
Neckface, you lushhhhhhhh.
More Chianti the next day (Father's day) with the family in the bronx little italy
(an EXCeLLENT place called Mario's)
I drink like my aunts do, but I don't get ridiculous like my aunts do.
I DID put a spoon on my nose though because I'd always wanted to learn how to do that.
Aunt one: post-spoon success
Aunt two: Post tri-bottle emptiness.
Grandpa seemed pleased. He had a bite of the chocolate mousse and dad laughed hysterically at the face he made afterward, he looked just like Shakespeare after beef jerky.
That mousse was DEADLY.
My uncle Ray told me a story about driving down the autobon in germany in a shitty volkswagon with my grandpa and a bee flew in the window and went down his shorts and stung him on the balls.
There was actually the question, "WAIT??? THE BEANS OR THE FRANK?????"
and I said, "the beans" and then so did uncle ray.
and then my aunt (1) said nutsack.
The entire restaurant was filled with paintings by a C. Liquori. They were beautiful.
I wonder if he did the paint-job on the school bus that I saw on the way home.
Woo, family double shoot.
That dude with my aunt was our waitor. He touched me on the back as I was leaving the way Luke did the first time he touched me and I turned around and shook his hand and thanked him and I could tell that the touch had been out of a pure, honest, pleasure of aqquaintance.
Which is quite nice.
For some reason I have suspicion to think that he might also have been the owner.
I have no idea why I think that.
--
Snick couch.
Snick Smitten
Sarah smitten
Cameritten
No more Alan for a month. He surprised me many times this week, however nothing was more surprising than the last moments I saw him. Drove home listening to the song "From California" by the new amsterdams with a smile and then I was sad that I hadn't made him a mix cd for his trip.
(The one he made me for my birthday is fucking incredible.)
--
It's been a trying period of daily struggles these past couple of weeks.
Saw my new psychologist yesterday.
He had a tiny black chiuhuahua. or whatever. that fell asleep in my lap as I spoke.
I was fascinated by the fact that he actually listened and responded to me and did not say, "Well, you seem like you are very put together despite hardships."
He suggested I see a pharmapsychologist in order to get some adderall and then continue to see him for my 'myriad of psychological and emotional issues.'
He's seen my mother throughout all her ordeals, my mom and father during their marriage problems, and my older brother.
He says that our family, for some reason, has been "through the wringer."
Nice guy though. First one to suggest a theory that I hadn't previously considered.
See, he met me and said, "I met you whne you were a little girl. Wait. Were you the one who had to fold your sock tips over because you didn't like the seam on your toes???"
I laughed because he'd remembered that and then explained how I had several compulsions as a child incorporaing socks, door locks, and even number increments.
(walking on a sidewalk crack? NOT an option)
I was fucking nicholson in as good as it gets. surriously.
Anyway, later on he suggested that my chaotic childhood may have incubated those compulsions as a way for me to install my own regiment of order in my life.
Simple and solid theory, I wonder why I never considered that.
Things are going to be alright this time.
(Lessen the pain but continue the struggle; the process)
--
So has there ever been a corona advertisement to the song, "my sharona?"
--
rachel makes me laugh.
LetYrEarthQuake (9:25:21 AM): gianna. i dont know whats wrong with me. this morning i had a dream about eating tuna. so i woke up and instinctly went to the cabinet where in which tuna would be. and I made myself tuna and crackers. this is strange because i have only eaten tuna one other time in my life and that was last semester when panera messed up my order, but i was too hungry to go back. whats strange is that i feel as though this is a good thing and i dont mind it so much.
giaspank (9:25:22 AM): I'm not trying to twist your niblets, I'm trying to save your life.
LetYrEarthQuake (9:25:45 AM): i immediately thought of you when i slipped back into cognitive thinking mode. well, you and "what the fuck am i eating tuna for? do i even LIKE tuna?"
--
(I just finished women by buk)
Bukowski says that love is for "guitar players, catholics, and chess freaks."
Gianna thinks that love is "an italian giving up eating garlic because their lover is a vampire.
Private Donut thinks love is a whollllllle lot of headlight fluid.
I'm going for a run.
over and out