10am, already 75 degrees, sweating on my deck with freckles on my knees. reliving last night. grinning. it was one of those shrieking-YAY!-in-my-car-afterward, happily-banging-out-'try a little tenderness'-on-the-steering-wheel, hope-it-happens-again kind of moments. spawner of joy. I am so fucking easy to please. and so, so idealistic.
work was horrid- I covered someone's 12-10 and stayed until past 11. I could have stayed longer- relentlessly shitting animals and filth and surly clients. the doctors were all in good moods, which helped immesurably. then I met m for blues dancing. grind, grind, grind. I am not attracted to him but he's a very nice guy and he moves well. he dipped me so that my hair touched the floor. 'arch your back!' he'd whisper. 'very good.' this is the same guy that I do aerials with in Lindy hop. (I start level 3 in 2 weeks.) blues dancing is more tango-based- slow as fuck, bodies pressed together, every move passionately deliberate. watching other people was a collosal turn-on- especially the woman with the amazing legs and tiny skirt with the partner who kept trying to lower her hemline. I, by contrast, was off an 11+ hour shift and wearing ratty jeans and a tshirt with a fucking octopus on it, laughing every time I managed to defy gravity. it is crucial and far more fun to not give a fuck... I dare say, it probably makes one a better dancer... eventually.
everything is on the giddy precipice of being everything I could possibly ever want- and even if a, b, or possibly c don't work out (options, not initials) I am so fucking happy that it doesn't matter.
*
I am so fucking incoherent on my iPhone. cannot edit. this is my daft 3-hrs-of-sleep brain. I haven't had the patience or inclination to hunker down in a place with wifi and download photos or scribe lucidly. when it's ass-cold, I surely shall.
*
dead possum in the middle of my street. totally disemboweled, tongue hanging out. I deal with unspeakably vile shit all the time at work, but outside of that context I'm weirdly squeamish. I don't even like pulling hair from the shower drain. I went over to the possum earlier with the intention of moving it but was too grossed out. two guys just shoveled it up and hauled it off. my neighbor is also suntanning- out of eyesight- and called "thank you" to them.
*
salted pita chips and mike and ikes. together. fucking AMAZING.
*
i have eaten balsalmic strawberries every day for over a week. $1/pound, food-porn quality berries and cheap-ass vinegar. transcendent. i love how cheap fruit is here. granted, when I was a kid we picked strawberries out of the front yard- but I'm an inept city lass who cannot even grow fucking radishes. (I forgot to water them.)
*
Stella Artois in 70 degree darkness under the fairy lights of the Capitol club deck.
*
everyone I meet is from Texas!
*
walking around with Sinatra in my headphones makes me fucking happy no matter what my prior mindset. I feel like I'm sharing a saucy secret with myself.
*
sometimes you get all the vowels, sometimes you get the q, j, x, g, f, p, and some fucking useless letter like u. I mean sure, you've got a q, but you can't fucking do anything with it. so you use the u because it's your only fucking vowel, making some stupid piddly word like "up." and you want to remind the person you're playing with that you really are better than that.
*
I heard today about the "butter burger"- hamburger with a pat of butter on top. it's a wisconsin thing. I don't need to try it.
*
my phone-holding hand is sweaty and I'm nattering vapidly, so shall cease now. smiling. sending out the good vibes. fiddle-dee.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
I am sitting on my deck at 0042 pst in my undergarments. the screen is open, annoying my neighbors with depeche mode, then the germs. blame the radio.
I have neglected my narcissism-portal of late; too busy livin', as the fuck-ups say.
thus, mere snippets -SNATCHES, really!- from the past near-month, as filtered through my fucking iPhone. by the by, FUCK iPhone for autocorrecting "iPhone" (complete with proper capitalization) but not FUCK. fuck, fuck, fuck.
the solstice parade: ass-cold and gloomy. kids getting squashed by a 15' diameter ball rolling down 34th N. I love this city, even if it's slightly predictable in its novelty. as a side note, the cold didn't affect the penis size of some of the bike riders. I suspect most participants think "I'm hung like an ox- I should ride in the parade"- not the other way around.
cherries. good christ. I prefer bings. the darker the sweeter.
music: okay, Ana tijoux, the small faces. I walked down pike tonight with my skirt flipping up, listening to "baby got back." twice.
karaoke: build me up buttercup. my friends were kind and danced.
the kick-through charleston.
spinach + dried cranberries + sunflower seeds. I reccommend feta for those who can handle it. bleu cheese (shouldn't it be 'fromage bleu'?) is sublime also.
alligator meat: it's chewy but appealingly so.
peanut butter cookies, a hug, and a "you're beautiful", among other things, from the clients I've seen do far at bbh. I fucking love it there.
in the process of rereading the 'little house' books. read 'little house on the prairie' from start to finish today, hence the sunburn on my legs. those books will make you hungry and break your heart.
I bought a ticket to cracker and cvb tonight. it'll be my 4th (?) time seeing them...
graffiti in the loo at the dubliner: "jeff goldblum is watching you pee." someone scrawled beneath that "best graffiti ever."
quote: "no one likes a dirty old man or a clean little boy."
golden gardens with k. temperature: 85 degrees. mimosas out of a half-emptied jug of orange juice.
Bret Easton Ellis.
fingers that smell of strawberries.
the FUCKING possum skulking noisily outside my window at 3am! can one "skulk noisily"? pardon my linguistic laziness. so this fucking ratty POSSUM has been making a creepy hateful racket outside my lair for the past week. I watched him through the darkened window, a possum-perv. creepy little fucker, it. I had my 2010, obsolete and tree-raping yellow pages delivered yesterday; I left it outside (throwing it away from my doormat in derision). the rattling of its plastic wrapper by said fucking possum is what caused my heed.
phone books are a fucking blasphemy. why not just send every resident a 6' length of trunk?
the station I'm listening to just reminded me: Jim Morrison died 40 years and one week ago. feel OLD AS FUCK?
entropy has discovered the deck. she's fucking fearless. I am impressed and paranoid simultaneously.
hummingbirds.
sweet potato fries.
moss-clots.
skirt sticking to legs. prying fabric off sweaty skin when disembarking bus.
my poppies and tomato plants are doing something. something. they're not dead, okay?
three-leaf clovers, barefoot. barefoot in the park. a couple with missing teeth asked me to take their photograph. they had a camera that required advancing of the film. and a dog
*
we shall see how this works. i cannot edit this even if I wanted to..,
I have neglected my narcissism-portal of late; too busy livin', as the fuck-ups say.
thus, mere snippets -SNATCHES, really!- from the past near-month, as filtered through my fucking iPhone. by the by, FUCK iPhone for autocorrecting "iPhone" (complete with proper capitalization) but not FUCK. fuck, fuck, fuck.
the solstice parade: ass-cold and gloomy. kids getting squashed by a 15' diameter ball rolling down 34th N. I love this city, even if it's slightly predictable in its novelty. as a side note, the cold didn't affect the penis size of some of the bike riders. I suspect most participants think "I'm hung like an ox- I should ride in the parade"- not the other way around.
cherries. good christ. I prefer bings. the darker the sweeter.
music: okay, Ana tijoux, the small faces. I walked down pike tonight with my skirt flipping up, listening to "baby got back." twice.
karaoke: build me up buttercup. my friends were kind and danced.
the kick-through charleston.
spinach + dried cranberries + sunflower seeds. I reccommend feta for those who can handle it. bleu cheese (shouldn't it be 'fromage bleu'?) is sublime also.
alligator meat: it's chewy but appealingly so.
peanut butter cookies, a hug, and a "you're beautiful", among other things, from the clients I've seen do far at bbh. I fucking love it there.
in the process of rereading the 'little house' books. read 'little house on the prairie' from start to finish today, hence the sunburn on my legs. those books will make you hungry and break your heart.
I bought a ticket to cracker and cvb tonight. it'll be my 4th (?) time seeing them...
graffiti in the loo at the dubliner: "jeff goldblum is watching you pee." someone scrawled beneath that "best graffiti ever."
quote: "no one likes a dirty old man or a clean little boy."
golden gardens with k. temperature: 85 degrees. mimosas out of a half-emptied jug of orange juice.
Bret Easton Ellis.
fingers that smell of strawberries.
the FUCKING possum skulking noisily outside my window at 3am! can one "skulk noisily"? pardon my linguistic laziness. so this fucking ratty POSSUM has been making a creepy hateful racket outside my lair for the past week. I watched him through the darkened window, a possum-perv. creepy little fucker, it. I had my 2010, obsolete and tree-raping yellow pages delivered yesterday; I left it outside (throwing it away from my doormat in derision). the rattling of its plastic wrapper by said fucking possum is what caused my heed.
phone books are a fucking blasphemy. why not just send every resident a 6' length of trunk?
the station I'm listening to just reminded me: Jim Morrison died 40 years and one week ago. feel OLD AS FUCK?
entropy has discovered the deck. she's fucking fearless. I am impressed and paranoid simultaneously.
hummingbirds.
sweet potato fries.
moss-clots.
skirt sticking to legs. prying fabric off sweaty skin when disembarking bus.
my poppies and tomato plants are doing something. something. they're not dead, okay?
three-leaf clovers, barefoot. barefoot in the park. a couple with missing teeth asked me to take their photograph. they had a camera that required advancing of the film. and a dog
*
we shall see how this works. i cannot edit this even if I wanted to..,
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