according to the cia 'personality profile' (www.cia.gov) i am a 'thoughtful observer.'
according to my actions of the last few weeks, i am also one of poor work ethic, silly stoner habits, and propensity of snogging boys drunker than myself.
tomorrow i go admire the ruins of the original western state hospital, a mental asylum in beautiful steilacoom washington. apparently the juggaloes have taken it over, but we shall be there in the innocent sunlight. is the juggalo thing local to western washington, traffic, meth, and horse-fucking capital of the united states? i rather hope so.
soberly i sip my iced blackberry sage tea. my inner librarian always wins the fight of personality.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
tail feathers ashake
it has been a week of lightening the fuck up, revisiting vices (responsibly, even!), feeling incredibly unmotivated at work, my agitation renewed this evening by contact with my kin... whom i love dearly, but i am too busy feeling optimistic to be reminded of everything i could possibly be worrying about instead.
this is my first night to myself in a while. it is peaceful and pointless at once.
from the past 7 days:
everything dying or being euthanized at work yesterday, two in my arms.
architecture in helsinki.
calling in sick, cough cough, and spending a sunny thursday hanging out with my work/vice buddy on 3 hours of sleep. that was a fucking good day: toy stores, greenhouses, hot tea, indian food, walking in the sporadic rain.
driving to blaine today, admiring the beast-scented bucolia of nearby lynden, deciding not to micturate on the shirt someone had thrown on top of the pile in the port-a-potty. sunny, hot, listening to french talk radio. i cannot enter canada until i replace my stolen passport.
deer alongside the road.
his friend's dog's "fuck bunny": a stuffed animal that the unneutered dog molested until all that was left was the head and a bit of stuffing. "it was crunchy and yellow."
banana chips dipped in tahini, a variation of the earlier theme.
the 23-minute yes song currently playing overhead.
the construction at my building. they are replacing the deck railing. at 7:30am daily for the last week and at least another. hammering, grunting, knocking down chunks of concrete, having boisterous man-chats. right in front of my window. the building is enveloped, christo-like, in plastic. i have no view, no privacy, and no circulating air. it is rather womblike.
my new work schedule, effective 1 october! sun-wed, 1-10pm! i have 3 fucking days off in a ROW (haven't had a consecutive day off in months, much less all 3) and fridays and saturdays... yay... perhaps i shall enroll in a trapeze class on thursdays.
lightening the fuck up is indeed the key to happiness. i have never been adept at this. but it is getting much, much easier lately, and i am having much more fun.
this is my first night to myself in a while. it is peaceful and pointless at once.
from the past 7 days:
everything dying or being euthanized at work yesterday, two in my arms.
architecture in helsinki.
calling in sick, cough cough, and spending a sunny thursday hanging out with my work/vice buddy on 3 hours of sleep. that was a fucking good day: toy stores, greenhouses, hot tea, indian food, walking in the sporadic rain.
driving to blaine today, admiring the beast-scented bucolia of nearby lynden, deciding not to micturate on the shirt someone had thrown on top of the pile in the port-a-potty. sunny, hot, listening to french talk radio. i cannot enter canada until i replace my stolen passport.
deer alongside the road.
his friend's dog's "fuck bunny": a stuffed animal that the unneutered dog molested until all that was left was the head and a bit of stuffing. "it was crunchy and yellow."
banana chips dipped in tahini, a variation of the earlier theme.
the 23-minute yes song currently playing overhead.
the construction at my building. they are replacing the deck railing. at 7:30am daily for the last week and at least another. hammering, grunting, knocking down chunks of concrete, having boisterous man-chats. right in front of my window. the building is enveloped, christo-like, in plastic. i have no view, no privacy, and no circulating air. it is rather womblike.
my new work schedule, effective 1 october! sun-wed, 1-10pm! i have 3 fucking days off in a ROW (haven't had a consecutive day off in months, much less all 3) and fridays and saturdays... yay... perhaps i shall enroll in a trapeze class on thursdays.
lightening the fuck up is indeed the key to happiness. i have never been adept at this. but it is getting much, much easier lately, and i am having much more fun.
Monday, September 18, 2006
blissss in sssibilance
(note to self: do not watch "blue velvet" directly before sleep ever again.)
ever have one of those moments wherein everything seems orchestrated for your benefit? i had that narcissistic experience en route to work. half the sky was blue blazing sunshine, half was dark ominous clouds- i love when the climate cannot decide. and on the radio, they played 'cover of the rolling stone', then 'ride on', THEN 'lay lady lay', and after i got petrol they played 'i put a spell on you', and i arrived at my toil feeling quite jaunty indeed. the tape i made for my friend at work was well-received... i do enjoy making tapes, archaic a medium as it may be. by the by, COOL SITE, postpunkjunk... as if someone made compilations from my own collection... i shall have to acquire the means to actually utilize it instead of being reliant on public terminals. yesterday i went into the Famous New Downtown Library for the first time. it is a very marvelous place, cement and endless ceilings, orange and yellow panels, intercoms somnambulous in tone, the ambiance the way i imagine someplace in tokyo to be.
it has been a day of excited happiness for no concrete reason... giddy. i must bottle this and splash it on my pulses.
ever have one of those moments wherein everything seems orchestrated for your benefit? i had that narcissistic experience en route to work. half the sky was blue blazing sunshine, half was dark ominous clouds- i love when the climate cannot decide. and on the radio, they played 'cover of the rolling stone', then 'ride on', THEN 'lay lady lay', and after i got petrol they played 'i put a spell on you', and i arrived at my toil feeling quite jaunty indeed. the tape i made for my friend at work was well-received... i do enjoy making tapes, archaic a medium as it may be. by the by, COOL SITE, postpunkjunk... as if someone made compilations from my own collection... i shall have to acquire the means to actually utilize it instead of being reliant on public terminals. yesterday i went into the Famous New Downtown Library for the first time. it is a very marvelous place, cement and endless ceilings, orange and yellow panels, intercoms somnambulous in tone, the ambiance the way i imagine someplace in tokyo to be.
it has been a day of excited happiness for no concrete reason... giddy. i must bottle this and splash it on my pulses.
Friday, September 15, 2006
poked and prodded
so i just got a piercing, and i am riding the resultant giddy wave. i needed to do SOMETHING. 2 piercings, one captive-bead ring, halfway up my right ear. it looks pretty nifty, if i do say so. it was a very impulsive move. i was walking down broadway and saw an open sign alit.
what did i do in the dusky hours prior? drove around whilst blaring "it's a rainy day, sunshine girl" (i need to rotate the music in my car), read the new issue of people magazine (i mean, a dense and provocative work of literature...), and was witness to something very surreal: traffic around 'fraternity row' in the u-district was horrible, and i was immediately grouchy because i was stuck on a hill with a stick shift, but then! the din of many merry voices rang forth, and suddenly there were about one hundred people carrying bass drums, tubas, and other cumbersome instruments running across the road, congregating on the side street, and jumping into a very commendable version of 'louie louie', complete with synchronized bows and dips. it made me smile. actually, it put me in a really good mood.
i have been struggling with the admitted stupidity of living here. i keep thinking "seattle, prove yourself! justify your exhorbinant (misspelled) rent, your horrible traffic, the soul-sucking commute, your lack of indoor smoking, the nine months of no local soul mates with propensity for fuckable music, varied cuisine, grassy lounging, and pop-culture obsessiveness..." and then i see things like tonight and i exhale langorously and think "okay. okay, seattle, you wily maiden... that was pretty good."
what did i do in the dusky hours prior? drove around whilst blaring "it's a rainy day, sunshine girl" (i need to rotate the music in my car), read the new issue of people magazine (i mean, a dense and provocative work of literature...), and was witness to something very surreal: traffic around 'fraternity row' in the u-district was horrible, and i was immediately grouchy because i was stuck on a hill with a stick shift, but then! the din of many merry voices rang forth, and suddenly there were about one hundred people carrying bass drums, tubas, and other cumbersome instruments running across the road, congregating on the side street, and jumping into a very commendable version of 'louie louie', complete with synchronized bows and dips. it made me smile. actually, it put me in a really good mood.
i have been struggling with the admitted stupidity of living here. i keep thinking "seattle, prove yourself! justify your exhorbinant (misspelled) rent, your horrible traffic, the soul-sucking commute, your lack of indoor smoking, the nine months of no local soul mates with propensity for fuckable music, varied cuisine, grassy lounging, and pop-culture obsessiveness..." and then i see things like tonight and i exhale langorously and think "okay. okay, seattle, you wily maiden... that was pretty good."
dammit!
i keep vowing that i will never contact him, numbers deleted from my telephone, knowing that it is all a toxic shitstorm to nowhere... complicated by the annoying knowledge that he's the only one who seemed to properly understand, or at least empathize with (same thing?) the nasty, dark corners of my personality. so i had to go fucking read his fucking blog. articulate asshole. thanks for the posterior shout-out! grr, i say.
anyhow! it is suddenly rather nippy in seattle proper, to my glee. i walked around feeling saucy and sunlit for a good part of the day before realizing that my sweater was buttoned unevenly. i am slowly slogging through 'heat', bill buford (not the drummer), which is deeply entertaining and makes things like uncured lardo sound almost appetizing. his mentor in italy told him to "live like a butcher. butchers do not sleep. they eat nothing but meat, then go home and make love." carne, carnal, flesh, flesh. there is something quite sexy about that. my friend said "it's too bad you're a vegetarian. there are a lot of good restaurants in tacoma", then began describing a hole-in-the-wall mexican joint, grocer in the front, butcher in the middle, a tiny taqueria in the back "with FRESH meat!" i then admitted to him my recent shrimp cravings, unfulfilled... but for how long?
yes, moderation... i am an adult, after all. i should be able to balance my internal and INSANE hedonism with a respectable public veneer. it is becoming unflatteringly apparent in the last few weeks/months how much i smothered a lot of fun, wackadoo, irresponsible spontanaeity whilst wed. i keep reminding myself that i am only 27 years old... old enough to know better, young enough to do it anyway.
i must venture back into the sun now.
anyhow! it is suddenly rather nippy in seattle proper, to my glee. i walked around feeling saucy and sunlit for a good part of the day before realizing that my sweater was buttoned unevenly. i am slowly slogging through 'heat', bill buford (not the drummer), which is deeply entertaining and makes things like uncured lardo sound almost appetizing. his mentor in italy told him to "live like a butcher. butchers do not sleep. they eat nothing but meat, then go home and make love." carne, carnal, flesh, flesh. there is something quite sexy about that. my friend said "it's too bad you're a vegetarian. there are a lot of good restaurants in tacoma", then began describing a hole-in-the-wall mexican joint, grocer in the front, butcher in the middle, a tiny taqueria in the back "with FRESH meat!" i then admitted to him my recent shrimp cravings, unfulfilled... but for how long?
yes, moderation... i am an adult, after all. i should be able to balance my internal and INSANE hedonism with a respectable public veneer. it is becoming unflatteringly apparent in the last few weeks/months how much i smothered a lot of fun, wackadoo, irresponsible spontanaeity whilst wed. i keep reminding myself that i am only 27 years old... old enough to know better, young enough to do it anyway.
i must venture back into the sun now.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
dangerous levels of hedonism
got ridiculously stoned last night. it was enjoyable. i am falling off the fucking wagon. i feel like a rubber band about to snap. all i want to do is get severely intoxicated and fuck wantonly. i am having difficulty concentrating at work. the self-imposed moral chastity of the last few years is gravely tenuous. i keep thinking "why the fuck not?" ...but i am enmeshed deeply enough in this new, pure-of-mind&body 'habit' that i feel quite guilty and stupid for even considering the alternatives.
perhaps it's just remembering who i used to be... who i still am and always was, but primly denied. perhaps i am simply the sort who is meant to be high and devil-may-care, flighty flighty flighty.
(and i am also the detrimentally introverted nerd who wastes precious time typing a fucking solliloquy about it instead.)
perhaps it's just remembering who i used to be... who i still am and always was, but primly denied. perhaps i am simply the sort who is meant to be high and devil-may-care, flighty flighty flighty.
(and i am also the detrimentally introverted nerd who wastes precious time typing a fucking solliloquy about it instead.)
Monday, September 11, 2006
i've got it bad!
spent the last 6 hours of work in surgery... handed it over to another tech when my shift ended. bilateral sacral-iliac fracture repair, conducted by the cheery surgeon who actually TALKS, though the surgery was a fucking nightmare and nothing was connecting properly and he would grow rather quiet, but at least he likes classic rock, and 'godzilla' came on, and keesha (the keeshond) did very well under anesthesia, on my watch at least.
i feel like leaping around now. standing in one spot has never been my forte.
coming to this cafe when i obviously have nothing sentient to offer- i do so because it is my 'third place' and i am too wired to go home.
'think pink' was on the radio on the way here. they played 'set the controls for the heart of the sun' and i recalled laying in my bed in nice, headphones, large windows showcasing streetlight-lit leaves. that was a marvelous place. if ever one is shabbily moneyed in the cote d'azur, do stay at les orangers hostel. it was my home for six weeks.
one good thing about france: i would never hear 'hot for teacher' on the hi-fi, as i am currently tortured with here.
i feel like leaping around now. standing in one spot has never been my forte.
coming to this cafe when i obviously have nothing sentient to offer- i do so because it is my 'third place' and i am too wired to go home.
'think pink' was on the radio on the way here. they played 'set the controls for the heart of the sun' and i recalled laying in my bed in nice, headphones, large windows showcasing streetlight-lit leaves. that was a marvelous place. if ever one is shabbily moneyed in the cote d'azur, do stay at les orangers hostel. it was my home for six weeks.
one good thing about france: i would never hear 'hot for teacher' on the hi-fi, as i am currently tortured with here.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
virility? peurility?
i am a pile of fucking nerves. zingy, in an unpleasant way, as if i've had too much caffeine. i want to talk to somebody. no one to talk to. spent the morning decoupaging, the afternoon walking in sunlight. bought fun underpants. got a pile of free records: traffic, canned heat, 12 years after. did the crossword whilst listening to exceptional music. it has been a good day. so why do i feel as if i'm not yet privy to a horrible event that has already happened?
i allow my world to become far too small, at great detriment. tunnel vision. it has always been a problem.
the longan fruit thing has been monetarily curbed, for the next few days at least. in its place: banana chips dipped in peanut butter. fuck yeah, man.
i allow my world to become far too small, at great detriment. tunnel vision. it has always been a problem.
the longan fruit thing has been monetarily curbed, for the next few days at least. in its place: banana chips dipped in peanut butter. fuck yeah, man.
Friday, September 08, 2006
not sexual
the last few days have gracefully illustrated the phenomenon i mentioned earlier: glorious moments that must end, and once ended, the disorienting emptiness and the myopia of "is that my life? did that really happen?" perhaps it is because i am existing on 3 hours of sleep. i've spent time with one of my coworkers, someone that i really fucking clicked with, someone who seems to just get it right away. he felt like a friend i'd known for years. we talked until 6 am... or whenever it gets light around here. later today, at the pointless, 'motivating your staff 101'-esque employee meeting, watery bloodshot smiles were exchanged, and that was all. and i left tacoma with fantastic marigold sunlight, listening to the fucking velvet underground whilst mired in dreadful traffic, and i felt very fucking sad.
there is a definite lyricism to pointlessness. walking through the graveyard on queen anne hill under a perfectly full moon. staring up at the radio towers. the bus driver wearing teddy-bear antennae and greeting us with disarming cheer. the vista above salmon beach in tacoma, staring out at the narrows bridge, the beach several hundred perilous feet straight down, the trees sighing. it is nice to be reminded that this is how life can still be, how it is and was, how i want very badly to be back in those moments and revel in the novelty of it all. being back at the stiflingly hot cafe, arms sticking to the grimy counter, indulging my girlish solliloquy, seems a bit more pathetic now.
fuck yes... 'into the mystic' just came on. all right, i take it back; there is beauty and poignance in every facet of every moment. this is a damn fucking good song.
i haven't been this tired in a while.
there is a definite lyricism to pointlessness. walking through the graveyard on queen anne hill under a perfectly full moon. staring up at the radio towers. the bus driver wearing teddy-bear antennae and greeting us with disarming cheer. the vista above salmon beach in tacoma, staring out at the narrows bridge, the beach several hundred perilous feet straight down, the trees sighing. it is nice to be reminded that this is how life can still be, how it is and was, how i want very badly to be back in those moments and revel in the novelty of it all. being back at the stiflingly hot cafe, arms sticking to the grimy counter, indulging my girlish solliloquy, seems a bit more pathetic now.
fuck yes... 'into the mystic' just came on. all right, i take it back; there is beauty and poignance in every facet of every moment. this is a damn fucking good song.
i haven't been this tired in a while.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
this actually sounds rather tasty
*j'aime les etats-unis!*
Newest Fair Food: Deep-Fried Coca-Cola
POSTED: 9:35 am PDT September 5, 2006
DALLAS -- There are fried Twinkies and even fried candy bars.
Now, vendor Abel Gonzales Jr. has come up with a new artery-clogging concoction for the State Fair of Texas. It's fried Coke.
Gonzales deep-fries Coca-Cola-flavored batter. He then drizzles Coke fountain syrup on it. The fried Coke is topped with whipped cream, cinnamon sugar and a cherry. Gonzales said the fried Coke came about just from thinking aloud.
Gonzales' diet-buster wins the creativity honor at the second-annual Big Tex Choice Awards Contest.
Judges for the contest chose Shirley London's Fried Praline Perfection as the tastiest fried delicacy.
The two won out among 26 entries such as fried macaroni and cheese and a deep-fried cosmopolitan.
London said she came up with the fried pralines idea after buying pralines at the fair last year. She plans to sell the pralines alongside fried marshmallows.
Gonzales achieved notoriety in 2005 with the fried peanut butter, banana, and jelly sandwich -- selling an estimated 25,000 of the treats, according to the fair's Web site. The site said London got media attention in 2004 with her fried marshmallows on-a-stick.
This is the same state fair that brought about the corn dog. The Web site said Neil and Carl Fletcher conjured up a sweetened corn-battered wiener on-a-stick and sold it for 15 cents during the 1942 State Fair of Texas.
The fair begins Sept. 29.
Distributed by Internet Broadcasting Systems, Inc. The Associated Press contributed to this report. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Newest Fair Food: Deep-Fried Coca-Cola
POSTED: 9:35 am PDT September 5, 2006
DALLAS -- There are fried Twinkies and even fried candy bars.
Now, vendor Abel Gonzales Jr. has come up with a new artery-clogging concoction for the State Fair of Texas. It's fried Coke.
Gonzales deep-fries Coca-Cola-flavored batter. He then drizzles Coke fountain syrup on it. The fried Coke is topped with whipped cream, cinnamon sugar and a cherry. Gonzales said the fried Coke came about just from thinking aloud.
Gonzales' diet-buster wins the creativity honor at the second-annual Big Tex Choice Awards Contest.
Judges for the contest chose Shirley London's Fried Praline Perfection as the tastiest fried delicacy.
The two won out among 26 entries such as fried macaroni and cheese and a deep-fried cosmopolitan.
London said she came up with the fried pralines idea after buying pralines at the fair last year. She plans to sell the pralines alongside fried marshmallows.
Gonzales achieved notoriety in 2005 with the fried peanut butter, banana, and jelly sandwich -- selling an estimated 25,000 of the treats, according to the fair's Web site. The site said London got media attention in 2004 with her fried marshmallows on-a-stick.
This is the same state fair that brought about the corn dog. The Web site said Neil and Carl Fletcher conjured up a sweetened corn-battered wiener on-a-stick and sold it for 15 cents during the 1942 State Fair of Texas.
The fair begins Sept. 29.
Distributed by Internet Broadcasting Systems, Inc. The Associated Press contributed to this report. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Monday, September 04, 2006
huddle closer for warmth
i get my mental high just as my physical self succumbs to exhaustion... thus, bloodshot and weathered, i am out on the town. work was busy but not hideously so, and coexistence was blessedly smooth. 'careful with that axe, eugene' was on the radio during the drive home- such a fucked-up song, undoubtedly the stimulus for '10:15 saturday night.'
i had a harold & maude hankering last night, which happens fairly frequently, so watched the movie for about the 30th time. it is still my favorite. saw another hal ashby film, 'one final thing', that was completely different but almost as wonderful, and i recommend it heartily.
one of my coworkers has an uncanny resemblence to bud cort as harold... mixed with andrew mccarthy. while i consider it a positive thing, i am reluctant to tell him.
my mind is racing today. it is crashing into things en route. unfocused. this is usually the babbly trill before the thudding doledrums.
i had a harold & maude hankering last night, which happens fairly frequently, so watched the movie for about the 30th time. it is still my favorite. saw another hal ashby film, 'one final thing', that was completely different but almost as wonderful, and i recommend it heartily.
one of my coworkers has an uncanny resemblence to bud cort as harold... mixed with andrew mccarthy. while i consider it a positive thing, i am reluctant to tell him.
my mind is racing today. it is crashing into things en route. unfocused. this is usually the babbly trill before the thudding doledrums.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
I Take No Pride in Mocking the Bereaved…
Posted by DAVID SCHMADER at 02:52 PM
However, this “Wanted” poster, found on a number of street posts in the Central District, demands comment.
Okay. I understand that people can care deeply about ferrets, which for a certain kind of person reportedly make delightful pets.
However, I sincerely doubt that the average person, coming upon a loose ferret on the street, will be willing to lure it indoors and feed it yogurt. Far more likely, the person will do everything in his or her power to beat the disgusting hair-snake to death, perhaps with a shovel.
Still, if anyone’s seen Cookie, please give Pam a call.
In the meantime, here’s a most disturbing photo of “The Easter Ferret.”
permalink discuss in forums post comments (11)
Posted by DAVID SCHMADER at 02:52 PM
However, this “Wanted” poster, found on a number of street posts in the Central District, demands comment.
Okay. I understand that people can care deeply about ferrets, which for a certain kind of person reportedly make delightful pets.
However, I sincerely doubt that the average person, coming upon a loose ferret on the street, will be willing to lure it indoors and feed it yogurt. Far more likely, the person will do everything in his or her power to beat the disgusting hair-snake to death, perhaps with a shovel.
Still, if anyone’s seen Cookie, please give Pam a call.
In the meantime, here’s a most disturbing photo of “The Easter Ferret.”
permalink discuss in forums post comments (11)
red at night, sailor's delight
"a little bit of loving makes it all go right." -buddy holly
this quote, humorously enough, accompanied an article about male impotence in today's paper.
my work-angst was assuaged somewhat by a late-night chat with the boss. after, as is my nature, i sprawled in bed and panicked about the repurcussions of my confessional. i fucking cried at work and everything... i never have been able to control that, one of my most hated qualities. i am a fucking adult and still snivel when my ego gets bruised. the only time i don't cry is when i'm on antidepressants and ALL of my bodily fluids dry up. that should be an advertising slogan: i hereby trademark it, now.
so i was laying in bed, hecatomb kneading whorishly into my left axilla, wondering why i've been especially high-strung of late. it then occured to me that tomorrow would have been my three-year anniversary. since we are still technically married, i suppose it still is. and the thought fills me with complete revulsion. i want to pretend the entire era never happened. i no longer feel guilty about not missing him. i don't miss anything about it. but something about Official Dates are unreasonably daunting... as if tomorrow is a day that, in another world, with another outlook, i would be celebrating lavishly. in another world i would be laughing with my husband, and our child would be almost two years old, and we would actually converse and coexist. having clarity of how fucked everything was and is... that is the horrible part.
i spent much of today in a grim stupor, walking through downtown under maxfield parrish skies, reading at elliott bay, admiring luxe furnishings through store windows... wanting to be fucked in the worst possible way. blared "black dog." drank 'emporer's warrior potion' tea, which i ordered because the name was so wonderful. bought more fucking longan fruit, which i am currently obsessed with (an obsession that should be tempered soon, for they are $4.59 a pound at the import grocer). aside: the original sign for the fruit said "logan nut" (asian signage, grr), so i spent yesterday at work babbling about this glorious new fruit i'd discovered, and no one knew what i was talking about, and now i know why.
currently, i am in a much better mood.
whilst showering i started compiling a list of good words.
solliloquy. luscious. apogee. salubrious. glee. opisthotonous. yes. charlatan. ennui. mydriasis. squishy. xylophone. clostridia.
more to follow.
this quote, humorously enough, accompanied an article about male impotence in today's paper.
my work-angst was assuaged somewhat by a late-night chat with the boss. after, as is my nature, i sprawled in bed and panicked about the repurcussions of my confessional. i fucking cried at work and everything... i never have been able to control that, one of my most hated qualities. i am a fucking adult and still snivel when my ego gets bruised. the only time i don't cry is when i'm on antidepressants and ALL of my bodily fluids dry up. that should be an advertising slogan: i hereby trademark it, now.
so i was laying in bed, hecatomb kneading whorishly into my left axilla, wondering why i've been especially high-strung of late. it then occured to me that tomorrow would have been my three-year anniversary. since we are still technically married, i suppose it still is. and the thought fills me with complete revulsion. i want to pretend the entire era never happened. i no longer feel guilty about not missing him. i don't miss anything about it. but something about Official Dates are unreasonably daunting... as if tomorrow is a day that, in another world, with another outlook, i would be celebrating lavishly. in another world i would be laughing with my husband, and our child would be almost two years old, and we would actually converse and coexist. having clarity of how fucked everything was and is... that is the horrible part.
i spent much of today in a grim stupor, walking through downtown under maxfield parrish skies, reading at elliott bay, admiring luxe furnishings through store windows... wanting to be fucked in the worst possible way. blared "black dog." drank 'emporer's warrior potion' tea, which i ordered because the name was so wonderful. bought more fucking longan fruit, which i am currently obsessed with (an obsession that should be tempered soon, for they are $4.59 a pound at the import grocer). aside: the original sign for the fruit said "logan nut" (asian signage, grr), so i spent yesterday at work babbling about this glorious new fruit i'd discovered, and no one knew what i was talking about, and now i know why.
currently, i am in a much better mood.
whilst showering i started compiling a list of good words.
solliloquy. luscious. apogee. salubrious. glee. opisthotonous. yes. charlatan. ennui. mydriasis. squishy. xylophone. clostridia.
more to follow.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
sometimes i fucking hate people. no, this is a fallacy. i hate unwarranted rudeness. i hate dealing with miserable humans who take out their self-loathing on the rest of the world. i hate huffy eye-rolling narcissists who bitch to everyone but whom they are bitching about. the human dynamics of my job reminds me of ostracism at a junior high cafeteria table.
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