| cocaine recordings. |
[avr. 16e, 2007|03:57 pm] |
--yes? but then let them eat soup!
--it isn't... soup, mom
--have them, have them, i am too tired!
--but it's not EDIBLE, it's not soup, it's--
--it's not soup?
--no, and i--
--oh! oh. am i making sense?
--don't worry about it. did you want to listen to the music i brought you?
--i think margaret called, after all. do you remember when...
--here, listen, it's jeff, his voice is-- well, i think you'll really like it--
--like that time you got your ears done. i didn't tell. i still get trouble over that, you know!
--right...
--(nods vigorously) right.
you have__800__new messages |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[déc. 15e, 2006|12:25 am] |
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i think likely all m can understand is that if i am one way today, it will be different tomorrow, or in an hour, or at the end of the minute, and this sort of flux is what he has come to depend on, knowing i will come to be something he likes very much, if only for a moment every now and again. |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[nov. 21e, 2006|02:13 am] |
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watching desperate housewives makes me feel better about myself as a person. other women are also apparently manipulative bitches. fabulous. when "what's love got do with it" came on during susan's sham wedding to the gay man, i laughed so hard i knocked all of jordy's soda into his lap. then he banished me upstairs to read gary watson. fuckin a. mike still hasn't drunk dialed me. |
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| ten dollars or less |
[nov. 6e, 2006|10:07 pm] |
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i told my class of mathematically inclined eight years old that if they solved their distributive property problems i would buy them any prize worth less than $10. the girls asked for candy. the indian boy asked for more math. the russian boy asked, "can i have you?!" |
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| something about the open road |
[oct. 14e, 2006|01:04 pm] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | tori amos - a sorta fairytale | ] |
bad luck is just bad luck, finally.
julie called last night from beijing and told me her usual fairytales.
if this were four months ago, just now i'd be...
waking up still slightly drunk next to her in bed and rolling onto the floor and clumsily reapplying eyeliner in the bathroom, putting on a james blunt shirt and converse over my black dress (still on), calling mary from the kitchen and handing her shoes, a coat, pulling on a sweater and lipstick, humming a song and debating calling a cab, walking across away from the luxembourg gardens down the sunday morning streets of paris to the diner where we'll all be waitresses someday.
my tall beauties...
 |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[oct. 12e, 2006|01:24 pm] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | Voxtrot - Wrecking Force | ] |
I had a post apocalyptic dream last night in which T. reappeared from five years ago and removed wiretaps from my Soviet bunker. Wrecking force is the new anthem for my life, though I can't quite understand the words and no one has posted the lyrics. People.
The Slow Groove Trio
Zero 7 - Throw it All Away
Nouvelle Vague - Dance With Me
Azure Ray - Sleep
The Dance Quartet
Scissor Sisters - I Don't Feel Like Dancing
The Coral - Dreaming of You
Under the Influence of Giants - Mama's Room
Bee Gees - Night Fever
Rock the Boat
Voxtrot - Wrecking Force
What Made Milwaukee Famous - Building a Boat from the Boards in Your Eyes
Sufjan Stevens - Chicago
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Cheated Hearts
Beck - The Horrible Fanfare
Ray Lamontagne - How Come
Bree Sharp - Faster, Faster
Regina Spektor - Fidelity |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[sep. 28e, 2006|05:47 pm] |
| [ | Humeur actuelle |
| | miserable without m. | ] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | scissor sisters - i don't feel like dancing | ] |
I want to be a philosophy phD OR wake up tomorrow as Scarlett J with especially almond eyes. This is likely the most relevant thing I've come up with today. Other absurdities: The urge to shave my head recurs, my randomly adorable roommate likes tequila shots (clearly a match made in my alcoholic idea of heaven), and I attempted boarding to class today. Let's just say... I don't know how to stop. |
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| The Wind-up Bird Chronicles |
[sep. 26e, 2006|06:08 pm] |
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"Anyways, it seems to me that the way most people go on living, they think that the world or life (or whatever) is this place where everything is (or is supposed to be) basically logical and consistent. Talking with my neighbors here often makes me think that. Like, when something happens, whether it's a big event that affects the whole society or something small and personal, people talk about it like, "Oh, well, of course, that happened because such and such," and most of the time people will agree and say, like, "Oh, sure, I see," but I just don't get it. "A is like this, so that's why B happened." I mean, that doesn't explain anything. It's like when you put instant rice pudding mix in a bowl in the microwave and push the button, and you take the cover off when it rings, and there you've got rice pudding. I mean, what happens in between the time when you push the switch and when the microwave rings? You can't tell what's going on under the cover. Maybe the instant rice pudding first turns into macaroni gratin in the darkness when nobody's looking and only then turns back into ride pudding. We think it's only natural to get rice pudding after we put ride pudding mix in the microwave and the bell rings, but to me that's just a presumption. I would be kind of relieved if, every once in a while, after you put rice pudding mix in the microwave and it rang and you opened the top, you got macaroni gratin. I supposed I'd be shocked, of course, but I don't know, I think I'd be kind of relieved too. Or at least I wouldn't be so upset, because that would feel, in some ways, a whole lot more real." --May Kashara |
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| mundane: |
[sep. 18e, 2006|01:33 pm] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | beck - nausea | ] |
i hate jeans. i hate my hips for not fitting into anything. somehow without gaining weight my body shape has changed and i'm become too curvy for size ones and twos, though my legs look ridiculous in size sixes and eights which fit nicely around the top and then bag down around my thighs like boy pants. i depress myself jean shopping and tried shopping the boys aisle, but my waist is at least four or five inches smaller than the smallest waist size sold and they fall down my hips even with the shiny belts i pulled tight around. i wonder if my proportions are extremely unusual or if i'm just shopping all the wrong stores or if i'm unwilling to look at myself in bigger sizes. when i've been in my androgynous phases i've worn the taller brother's pants around, but i don't think i've ever quite pulled this off without looking absurd... i'm too blonde to look like i'm making a statement and too thin for his to look good. i guess it's wacked out dresses for a while, then. anyways, that's what i'm thinking of buying. |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[sep. 17e, 2006|02:06 pm] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | Regina Spektor - Samson, Fidelity | ] |
i like looking at pictures of doutzen kroes to regina spektor mix tapes. my brother hates kroes' cheekbones and spektor's vocal staccato. it breaks my heart. |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[sep. 15e, 2006|11:19 pm] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | Deerhoof - Sirius Tar | ] |
I am in lust with San Francisco and its Amoeba. |
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| on self. susan sontag. |
[sep. 11e, 2006|10:39 am] |
"The ideal life: doing only things which are indispensable. Two ways to be — a saint or a thief."
"My relationship to Harriet baffles me. I want it to be unpremeditated, unreflective — but the shadow of her expectations about what an “affair” consists in upsets my poise, makes me fumble. She with her romantic dissatisfactions, I with my romantic needs and longing.. . . One unexpected gift: that she is beautiful. I had remembered her as definitely not beautiful, rather gross and unattractive. She’s anything but that. And physical beauty is enormously, almost morbidly, important to me."
"It hurts then to love. It’s like giving yourself to be flayed and knowing that at any moment the other person may just walk off with your skin."
"There is no stasis. To stand still is to fall away from the truth; the inner life dims and flickers, starts to go out, as soon as one tries to hold fast. It’s like trying to make this breath serve for the next one, or making today’s dinner do the work of next Wednesday’s as well.. . .Truth rides the arrow of time."
"The fear of becoming old is born of the recognition that one is not living now the life that one wishes. It is equivalent to a sense of abusing the present."
"The only transformation that interests me is a total transformation — however minute. I want the encounter with a person or a work of art to change everything."
"I have always betrayed people to each other. No wonder I’ve been so high-minded and scrupulous about how I use the word “friend”!"
"Through 2/3 of Greta Garbo’s “Private Potato Patch” I wanted to be Garbo (I studied her; I wanted to assimilate her, learn her gestures, feel as she felt) — then, toward the end, I started to want her, to think of her sexually, to want to possess her. Longing succeeded admiration — as the end of my seeing her drew near. The sequence of my homosexuality?"
"I’m impatient (contemptuous) of people who don’t know how to protect themselves, stand up for themselves. My mind = King Kong. Aggressive, tears people to pieces. I keep it locked up most of
the time — and bite my nails."
"I like to feel dumb. That’s how I know there’s more in the world than me." |
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| #10 |
[sep. 8e, 2006|10:02 pm] |
I found BJ's rehab sheet. At her peak she was doing 1.5 grams of blow and a pint of scotch a night. At her peak I remember crying through school. On a separate sheet she wrote a list of "ways it felt" to go through what she did. Number ten. "I would wake up every morning disappointed that I hadn't died..."
There are so many things you wish when you are fifteen. But back then I didn't wish I could save her. |
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| respect must be demanded |
[sep. 8e, 2006|12:24 pm] |
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"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there." --Rumi |
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| english, again |
[sep. 7e, 2006|01:00 pm] |
at 2 am i drove home and thought blankly about all the people i love and why the word love is so so imprecise. i took the 101 to franklin and twisted up in the hills a little, and left my car running so i could look over the night city in beach shorts and warm air. later, turning on western, caught a coyote in the glare of the headlight and braked down to ten to let him run in front of me.
coyotes run slower down the blvds than even i do.
bought a shake at fred 62's and sat by myself at the counter and faded in and out of imagining some possibilities i'd thought up for myself, which seemed endless and impossible to choose between. when i was home i kissed my brothers goodnight and then undressed and stood in front of the mirror in the dark tracing the lines under my eyes until i was out of thoughts, and then i tucked myself against the floor next to jazz and a stack of empty journals i'd once thought of filling. i fell asleep when i didn't know i was breathing anymore. |
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| scream and brake when someone falls asleep |
[sep. 5e, 2006|05:48 pm] |
| [ | Musique actuelle |
| | patty griffin - moses, sweet lorraine | ] |
i am really especially in love with the idea of limerence, which i read about in a poorly written wikipedia article on "love." limerence is a funny idea because most people would call it falling in love, but some psychologist lady decided it was borderline o-c. funny funny, i love how psychology makes everyone a case study. mostly because i make my own good case study for med student syndrome.
had a really fantastic weekend, though i was slow for the most part of it because it was hot and hot makes me feel lazy, also i was asthmatic and gasping around, which makes me do everything slower including processing words and speaking and making sense. josh came down with a friend, but not mikes who was otherwise entangled, and we went to a pool party at nick's north of sunset friday, the beach and french bistro on saturday, a bluegrass party at the disney house (designed by a couple of divorced imagineers) on sunday, a jazz club (guy's) with chrissy the same night (feat. a chilled out bruce willis, good music, and shockingly strong miami's), and malibu beach house on monday. little man taught josh some things about skateboarding and skimboarding, and josh taught little man some guitar chords. josh and i also had a profoundly unimportant conversation stretched out on my floor, which i think might have verged on importance if the christmas lights were still working.
i've been thinking: context is everything. it gives us the borders of what we might make possible. |
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| (pas de sujets) |
[sep. 1er, 2006|06:13 pm] |
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D'you know anyone who is... blonde haired, blue eyed, ~5'9", ~125 lbs, and over the age of 21? And has a state issued driver's license that says so? That I could borrow? |
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| "hiking is like sex: the less you do, the more you lie" |
[aoû. 25e, 2006|04:34 pm] |
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Alex and Pops and I steered out from Tenaya Lake yesterday, daypacking 14.2 miles out on switchbacks to Cloud's Rest, the 9,926 ft peak overlooking Half Dome and much of the high country. We have been averaging 12 miles a day which is neither a little nor a lot... it really depends on the ascents. My arches have collapsed and swollen, the skin on my face and joints has chapped and chafed under the dry spell, and I am darker still, despite my religious attentions to my shoulders and nose with SPF 45. I think I like my body better dirty and brittle. I feel useful and able. I feel I'm forgetting what it's like to be wanting. |
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| seymour hersh's latest exposé... |
[aoû. 14e, 2006|11:43 pm] |
"The Bush Administration, however, was closely involved in the planning of Israel’s retaliatory attacks. President Bush and Vice-President Dick Cheney were convinced, current and former intelligence and diplomatic officials told me, that a successful Israeli Air Force bombing campaign against Hezbollah’s heavily fortified underground-missile and command-and-control complexes in Lebanon could ease Israel’s security concerns and also serve as a prelude to a potential American preëmptive attack to destroy Iran’s nuclear installations..." |
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