Sunday, February 19, 2006

techno-ballerinas need loving too!

take me away, take me away
you said that you were gonna stay
but you're always lying anyway
everyday, sinking in the quicksand
follow me down the drain

i'm so glad i've discovered my pattern...not. is it masochistic? am i picking them? i can't tell. and it just fucking sucks that it keeps occuring in the same way and i never see it until i'm on the inside. which is difficult to escape from. because i've got a heart, ya know? it becomes attached, to little things, mostly, and i begin to grow minor infatuations. which expand. and sprout fangs. [at first i don't recognize that they are fangs, because i'm blinded. but once i'm on the inside...out they come. stuck in my sides, like thorns, ripping away. steel-tongued tiger lilies, my friends.] what is it about me that lends itself to this sort of attraction? why am i that girl? i've definitely become her, no doubt in my mind now. i swear i'm worth the time and effort and energy and love [is this the biggest one to give away? and i just come in too late? is that it?] to be first. i won't take second anymore...i can't take it anymore. i guess it all comes down to the perks of being a wallflower:

we accept the love we think we deserve.

am i accepting less than what i deserve because i haven't had evidence to the contrary, to say that i deserve more? am i just taking what i can get, and what i get is this? do i deserve more? not everyone ends up that way, in the end. the old maid is no fairy-tale. and now i'm almost afraid to get into anything because i've become so insecure about the lack of action in the past. double-edged sword! i may be a basket-case of a mental girlfriend by the time it finally comes around. please don't give up on me if i haven't managed to remedy this in a reasonable amount of time.


i'm really excited about the workers' rights center. social welfare in action, becoming more involved in the spanish community [and i realize more and more every day how much i adore hispanic culture...] finding a focus for my bleeding heart hippie-self...i think its a good thing. new goal: coffee shops. fuck the cold, i'm going up to the capitol. that's where all the adorable stuff is. if i want to find inspiration, i've gotta walk a little ways. writing. my f-ing face off. seriously. fighting through writer's block [it's going to be bloody]. drinking liberally, but not outrageously. for the pure enjoyment of it all. a nice orange martini once in a while is never a bad thing. getting my arse to costa rica, if at all possible. espero que entraré en la pluviselva a ver los animales y los árboles y las cosas hermosas del mundo. ROADTRIPPING it with my wife. we will be spontaneous, and you will hear stories, and gasp in disbelief.

did you really do that? you will say.
and we will respond, why yes. yes, we did.

being ambivalent about:
-environmental conservation [i'druther be a preservationist, but then, i like people way too much. and it's just not feasible to say "preserve this!" and then tell all the starving farmers in peru that they have to move elsewhere.]

-getting a real job. [i want to be a writer! that's it. i feel like a slacker, but i keep telling myself that's just societal pressure. the only 'real' job i can see myself having right now is working in the peace corps through something...i don't even know what. teaching in niger, venezuela? maybe i'll just keep serving terms...and come back to the states every 2 years for a bit? you think that's a good idea? yes?]

and this is how my mind has been spinning.
-dave eggers. [big blue sea]: bob schneider. [satin in a coffin]: modest mouse. becoming a techno-ballerina. [headlock]: imogen heap. red notebooks. realizing just how much anastasia krupnik and harriet the spy have affected my (pseudo) adult life. protesting the cold by adoring jack johnson. apples and cheese. apples and peanut butter. entertaining my inner (coastie, siberian husky, hermit). dark chocolate covered espresso beans. gray tennis shoes with dirt. killing my oregano plant daily, one poor shriveled brown leaf at a time. orange spice tea. [i'll be your lover, too]: van morrison.

i am a maelstrom, a monkey, a masterpiece.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

happy VD. two days early. so shoot me!

We were drawn from the weeds
We were brave like soldiers
Falling down under the pale moonlight
(rob thomas makes me swoon, yet again.)

is everywhere else in the world this surreal? i hope so. kind of.

Weekends have been growing more and more ridiculous since my return to Madison this year of 2006.
Ridiculous Weekend # 1: arguments in the den, with revelations [ending at approximately 6 am.]
Ridiculous Weekend # 2: chuck norris roundhouse kicks me in the face with a jug full of blush rose/ cabernet savignon
Ridiculous Weekend # 3: mexican food segweys to brazilian dance parties that escalate into terrifically dramatic/awkward treks back to sully

i am writing a (pseudo)short story for class, and i intend to enter it into a creative writing contest, hopefully awarding a certain amount of prize money in my general direction. (when it is done - at least as done as i ever make them - i will put it on this here blog. you can read the thing if you would like. it will be rather long. i believe i'm up to 6 pages, single spaced, 10 pt. font [in gill sans] at the moment. good luck with that.)
still have nowhere to live.
my mother likes to send me boxes full of tea and espresso beans for valentine's day. included: little post-it notes with smiley faces all over them. conversation hearts. mike'n'ikes. RENT.

speaking of which...valentine's day
fast approaches. still no valentine. and it's not bothering me this time. ! are you surprised? i bet not as surprised as i am. i might have changed my mind by tuesday, but as of this sunday evening, i'm happy solo. although i wouldn't mind having someone to speak to me as samson does to regina spektor:

samson came to my bed
told me that my hair was red
told me i was beautiful and came into my bed

my hair isn't red, but the verse is too pretty not to sing that part. try it'll make you cry. i swear. [regina spektor: samson] i think there is actually something stirring, something chaotic, but i haven't uncovered all of the details, and they keep fluttering away like infinitesimally tiny flecks of gold on the breeze. sometimes boys are just as skiddish as horses. maybe if i go slow and easy, talking softly the whole time [and carrying treats? i hear boys like food...] i can get close enough to find out the truth. i'm afraid of what i'll find...but at this point, self-preservation is a dull substitute for actually living. (as masochistic as this sounds...coming from an existentialist, it isn't that terribly bad. consider me warned. you have all survived, and i have grown from your stories.)

final note(s):
-i still hate econ
-samba dancing in spanish class = amazing
-girls make friends with their enemies, boys beat them up
-i need a chiropractor
-dick cheney is an idiot
-postsecret (it's VD themed this week...)

"You start out with a good relationship with the wristband, you know its there for you and you respect it and love it...then slowly it starts to get a mind of its own, ya know? Like, it gets a little tighter, and maybe it starts to cut off the circulation to your hand. Pretty soon, its so tight, you're fuckin' dead. And then you get your arm amputated, and you see the wristband with someone else, walkin down the street all happy together, just like you used to be, and you're like fuckin' be careful, man -shows (pretend) horribly disfigured arm- fuckin' wristbands...YOU GUYS ARE THE SHIT! Aw man, you know it. Fuckin' sing! You know this...sing! Sing! Aw shit. Y'all made this the best date of the tour man, have a fuckin' happy VD. Enjoy your VD!" - Matty, 2/14/04, Ascot.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

i give up

i give up.

reading something that i think is really glorious writing makes me uneasy. dave eggers is married, and this makes me want to cry. i have a terrific crush on my ta. i may be too liberal for non-profit work. the world revolves around money, and this makes me want to burn all currency and start over with cocoa beans. at least chocolate is edible. i'm getting really excited about [possibly] living in a co-op. volunteering at the worker's rights center and the therapeutic horse stable are my goals for the week. i have writer's block. putting my hair into a ponytail takes at least three bobby-pins.

i give up.

and he said wake up, there's a mountain outside
that makes no sense, she said, mountains only come out when the ocean stops screaming
he said it has
she said i can still hear the waves beating themselves into oblivion
and he started to cry.
she asked why
and he said it was because nothing had ever disappeared so quickly from view
she said nothing?, walked towards the
door in the floor, and then
disappeared over the side of the mountain.