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Saturday, January 3rd, 2009
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10:37 pm - In other news,
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| Saturday, November 24th, 2007
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11:08 pm - caturday
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I HAS 1337!
So, I was at work. A piano player who usually comes in to play crappy Elton John starts playing THIS SONG!!!!! THIS SONG!!!!!!!
http://jesusorly.ytmnd.com/
He's never, in all the time I've worked there, played anything like it.
Then I processed the daily money, and guess what the total was? $1337.20---NO KIDDING.
I has had my 1337s today.
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(leave a mark)
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| Saturday, July 14th, 2007
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10:18 pm - news
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I'm working at a coffee chain. My store is a little rough.
The other day, two guys had sex in our men's room. We know this because when my coworker kicked them out, one of them was falling out of his pants. Oh, and because there was semen on the wall.
Today, another coworker kicked TWO sets of heroin addicts out of the bathroom. Another man hid himself behind some curtains and fell unconscious for several hours. We discovered him at closing time, and our efforts (shaking, yelling, clapping) to revive him failed. He sat there with a puddle of drool on his shirt until the paramedics came and got him out.
There is a man who comes every day (unassociated with the company) and sits with a yellow legal pad. His self-appointed job is to complain about everything and tell us exactly how things MUST be done. He is the biggest ass in the entire world. He masturbates with tweezers, no doubt, and I can't imagine what kind of life would drive one to scrutinize--and, basically, appoint oneself an impotent manager of--a coffee chain for HOURS a day. HE thinks he's the best, smartest, most valuable thing ever to happen to all of us. When you say, "delusions of grandeur," this man is the definition. I wish that, someday, something will happen to set him straight, as harshly as possible.
I get less than $1/hour in tips, and I get paid minimum wage. On Craigslist, people are posting about how you shouldn't tip baristas because they make too much money (so much, in fact, that they retire at age 35). Well.
Despite all that, the job is okay. I don't hate it, and I'm not constantly thinking about how many minutes until I can go home (like I was at Michaels). I'm sure it's only a matter of time until that happens, considering the clientele. The manager is really cool, though, and the people I work with work hard.
I get coffee on the job, which is crucial to the mandatorily omnipresent pleasant mood.
I'm having a good time, but I don't know why I'm not really enjoying myself. I feel like I'm cleaning a coffee shop or I'm cleaning an apartment, satisfying customers or satisfying people I know here. I miss the walks I used to take in Connecticut, where I could get away. And I think I miss the aspect of my old job that allowed me to be on my own. I miss having a clean space to live (I have carpets and no vacuum and it's driving me crazy) but I can fix that by getting a vacuum. I haven't made anything creative in weeks.
Nobody is taking advantage of me, but I feel really put-upon.
I don't know what I want to do, but I feel like I'm missing it again, despite making changes in my life.
I have everything set up so nicely, but I'm not really feeling it.
I've been sleeping late, and waking up tired.
I haven't posted here for a while. Sorry to post only complaints. I don't know who else to complain to; everyone's out or asleep, and the person I'd talk to would play the "who suffers more" game and that's just no fun. So pffffft to everything right now; I'm going to watch a movie and maybe post something more pleasant in the morning.
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(3 tiny hoofprints in the snow | leave a mark)
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| Sunday, March 4th, 2007
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7:35 am
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Cider House Rules was on tv last night and I never watch tv anymore, but I watched it and cried when they said "Dr. Larch has found a family." I think because I am mismanaging mine.
Two horses broke free in my neighborhood yesterday and ran around for a while in the streets.
It was a beautiful day, and I walked around in New Haven because I felt like it and got babka from Wozniak's and went to the Yale post office where there was a dog in front of me in line.
It was also a two-dog-car day, and both of them even had their heads out the window at the same time.
I'm nervous and anxious even though I thought that feeling really good yesterday might mean the end of that instead of just a reprieve. I wish I had more time, or the ability to stop it for all but a few.
I missed a Mahler concert on Friday and today I'll miss another while at Michaels, but at least I'm getting more hours this week.
I am the superstar of bad timing, in general.
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(5 tiny hoofprints in the snow | leave a mark)
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| Friday, February 2nd, 2007
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10:53 pm - echo and the bunnymen
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Bring on the dancing horses
Headless and all alone
Shiver and say the words
Of every lie you`ve heard
First I`m gonna make it
Then I`m gonna break it
Till it falls apart
Hating all the faking
And shaking while I`m breaking
Your brittle heart.
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(leave a mark)
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| Tuesday, January 30th, 2007
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9:53 pm
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I forgot how nerdy I was in high school. I was in this online ::shiver:: poetry collective ::shiver again:: and someone must have put it all on a website ::SHIVER:: and I found it. Today. Strange to find something from years ago, strange to know it's been floating around for all of those years, perfectly accessible. To anyone.
Anyway.
Poetry from high school!!!!! W00000!!!!
In the winter,
a blue lobster-boat
on the grass
covered in snow
is the secret
of my joy.
The mountain is darker than the sky.
Of course this is so, the mountain being rocks
and the sky being nothing at all.
If I stand in the grey road,
between the wooden guardrails,
I am a silhouette against the sky,
and against the ground I am nothing at all.
Now here is a predicament for you to solve:
The air-conditioner gives up cold air
at a proportion of 3 to 1 to the hot air
coming from one broken panel.
I feel sympathetic; it must be trying.
But in the meantime, should I keep it on,
or shut it off?
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(1 tiny hoofprint in the snow | leave a mark)
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| Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007
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1:02 pm - Babka pow'r!
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So, I went to Wozniak's Polish Meats and got two babkas, and I thought they would be plain and I was all depressed over it, because cheese is the good kind. (by the way they sell sauerkraut out of huge plastic tubs)
I get it home and cut a slice and, sure enough, no cheese. On the second slice (like I'm really going to stop eating it just because there's no cheese), still no cheese. Hope evaporated, I cut into the HEART of the babka, and it is OVERFLOWING with CHEESE!!! Joy!
I've eaten about 2/3 of the babka myself (and I've only had it an hour or two). Deee-licious.
Is it logical, when your babka is burning and smoking in the toaster, to think, "What can I douse this smoke with? Ah, butter!"
OH SO G-U-D!
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(1 tiny hoofprint in the snow | leave a mark)
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| Monday, January 1st, 2007
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12:07 am - Happy New Year
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My quiet voice is speaking, I think, but I'm not sure. I feel far away, in distance and in time. How do you know what you want?
My New Year is here. It is 12:09am. Andre called and stayed with me during the precious seconds. He is at a party in South Carolina, undoubtedly enjoying himself, as he should be. New Year's has always been a little bit sad and frightening for me, what with everyone always making wishes for the older people having "more years," as if, without those wishes, they would already be gone. The idea of a 'ticking clock' holiday seemed macabre, though I suppose any celebrated date is accompanied by a ticking clock.
It is only 9pm on the West Coast. I will be there in a few days. As the trip approaches I become less and less certain it is a good idea. Travel terrifies me. To compound the anxiety, my energy level has dropped off sharply in the last few days, and I feel vulnerable and frail. Subdued and susceptible. I don't know how it will be. I don't know how *I* will be, at the other end of it. I'm afraid and uncertain.
There are two songs I'm listening to:
Voxtrot's "The Start of Something" and Devotchka's "How it Ends." This was accidental, at first. Now it isn't.
I don't like shells. I don't like husks. But New Haven, Hamden, are full of them. Everywhere I go there are ghost buildings and crumbling auspices of Things Gone Away. I can't walk streets without remembering, can't eat and can't sleep without frames of burnt barns appearing, out of nowhere, to collapse on my plates and beds.
My clothing is holding my body together. Whiskey is holding my head. Nothing works at holding together a concept of the future, or a will to ford the present. There are so many choices that seem like choices, but are already made. You can still choose wrong, it's just that there IS a 'right' choice, and you have to guess correctly or suffer terrible consequences. That isn't a choice. That's two doors, and one to the oubliette.
I have been bombarded, lately, with heavy repetition. I'm not sure what that means. I'm not sure I have been predominantly responsible for this repetition, as I usually am. I need to learn how to live without assuming everything is a sign. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and such.
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(2 tiny hoofprints in the snow | leave a mark)
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| Friday, December 29th, 2006
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11:52 pm - Saddam
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I'm afraid they will kill Saddam. I think they really will. It makes me so sad. I don't believe in capital punishment, but moreso I don't like to see people killed. I don't like to see things die before their time. And--who knows?--maybe it IS his time. Maybe time is relative, and maybe Saddam is supposed to die in exactly this way. But I wish he wouldn't.
Gareth got me a rose before he left. It's on the dash of my car, and it's already dead, or dying. I don't like it. It was soft and now it's sad.
I feel adrift, like Scully in her boat. I'm tired and I don't like the decisions I have to make.
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(leave a mark)
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| Wednesday, November 29th, 2006
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3:05 pm
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| Sunday, November 19th, 2006
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1:27 am
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I can't stand not being in a position to stand up for myself. Strike that-- I can't stand being in a position to stand up for myself, and failing to do so out of a completely baseless and false sense of 'responsibility.' I am weak and afraid. I am also angry. This responsibility is NOT MINE. It is NOT REAL. It is also SO NOT WORTHWHILE.
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(leave a mark)
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| Sunday, November 12th, 2006
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10:02 pm - Instigation?
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On Nov. 13, 1787, Thomas Jefferson wrote a letter to New York senator William S. Smith saying,
"A little rebellion now and then is a good thing. ... God forbid we should ever be twenty years without such a rebellion. The people cannot be all, and always, well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented, in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions, it is lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty. ... And what country can preserve its liberties, if its rulers are not warned from time to time, that this people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to the facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure."
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(leave a mark)
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| Wednesday, November 8th, 2006
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8:03 pm - Amazing But TOTALLY TRUE:
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-Chewbacca's vocalizations are based on the way that George Lucas' MALAMUTE, Indiana, used to "speak."
-The mask of Michael Myers (sp?) in the Halloween movies is actually a mask of...WILLIAM SHATNER.
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(leave a mark)
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| Wednesday, November 1st, 2006
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6:25 pm - oh, jeez, why facebook?
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My monthly facebook excursion prompted a manic slew of picture-posting, causing the realization that I have almost no pictures of myself. Also that, since I'm updating facebook, I have NO LIFE. Gleakjh.
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(leave a mark)
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| Tuesday, October 31st, 2006
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7:54 am - halloween!
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Happy Halloween to you, Starr, because you love it as much as I do :)
Happy Halloween to Andre, because that penis-carving contest was the best contest you ever won.
Happy Halloween to me! And I hope I can find an amazing costume in 5 hours. This is not usually how I operate. Usually I start a month in advance. Oh well.
Happy Halloween!
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(1 tiny hoofprint in the snow | leave a mark)
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| Monday, October 30th, 2006
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9:04 pm - how sweet these strawberries are!
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it's so weird to me that i changed so much in five years, and didn't notice at all until i noticed all at once.
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(leave a mark)
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9:02 pm - Ferociously, Voraciously, Unambiguously, Fervently, Stunningly, Furiously
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Andre and I had a long talk. He isn't coming home for our anniversary. We're going to try again, I think, but I'm different now than I was. I can leave now. This adds a dimension that is really new to me, the newest thing being that I'm not scared of being without him. This *fact* scares me because I'm not used to not being afraid.
I feel like I ought to find out I'm in denial, or I ought to realize I just have an emotional block. But I don't think that's the case. There's no underlying turmoil, there's no panic in the middle of the night, just me, and the idea that I would be alone if I weren't with him, but not alone forever. Or maybe alone forever. The weird part is that none of that fazes me anymore, whereas before it would put me in a depressive tailspin.
Maybe that weird two-week episode *was* some sort of unconscious exorcism. Maybe someone did something to me. Maybe I did it to myself.
My point, actually, is that I love Andre, and that I want to be in love with him still, but I don't *need* to be with him. My codependency, as beautiful as it wasn't, is not what I want. It's not any longer how I operate. I think I have a new intensity, something way better, way more astonishing and stunning and wonderful. There's so much energy, so much potential to create incredible fusion. We could go nuclear. I want us to actually be ourselves, together.
I want us to work, but I'm tired of always being the fixer, the reacher-out. He gets to fix it now, and I will help, but he gets to prove himself, because after 4 years I'm losing my faith. Odd how it's such a perfect religious allegory.
I love so much, so many things, so many people. There's just, I mean, too much. I don't think it's easy to understand, and it probably even offends people, but I like myself better when I don't-try-not-to-love things. I was miserable when I did that. I have enough in me to love everyone I ever meet, and never stop loving them, and etc etc etc. I am a solar flare. Not as impressive as the Synesthete Tesla, but maybe as impressive as a really good dog.
I think that maybe in the grand scheme of things I'm just some dumb girl prone to crushes. But I refuse to think that's all of it. I feel too strongly about it.
Andre and I can go on forever, just not like we have been. He seems really to want to work on it. I'm excited about that. He told me he carried three spiders and one centipede outside in plastic cups instead of washing them down the shower drain, just because he knew I'd like it. He saved four little lives for me. How many people have saved four lives for you?
Who knows how it will go? I know we've been here before. The difference is that it's easy now for both of us to just leave, to go our own ways and not look back. The difference is that it's the last remix, and we both know it, and maybe that will be motivation enough. Or it won't, and it'll just end. Either way.
Time to know.
I have to be able to love someone and have them love me back.
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(leave a mark)
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| Sunday, October 29th, 2006
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5:44 pm
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| Saturday, October 28th, 2006
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10:09 am - smile, ernest and celestine!
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I just spent $63 on used children's books. I bought about 5 or 6 of the Ernest and Celestine books (in English, French to come soon thru Amazon.fr). They are some of my absolute favorite books from my childhood. If you want to borrow them, and I will put a lien on your life to get them back, you absolutely should. They're some of the most romantic, sweet, sad, and old-souled stories in the world.
I don't have a ton of money, but if I spend it, I'm glad it's on books. :)
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(leave a mark)
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| Friday, October 27th, 2006
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11:19 am - Rover
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I want to explode in a fury-festival. I want to go to the Green and put on a dance show in costume. Maybe a circus, a lion and lion-tamer. Or two zany kids wearing giant hats and blasting music. Zig-a-zig, hunny, let's-let's go. Where I HAVE to go right now is Michaels. What a waste of energy :) The world will never know. I had so much fun going around handing out those poems. I have to do more of that. Maybe this week I'll hand out riddles. Or jokes? Quotes? No food. Strictly brain-candy. Must ponder this.
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