The Wise Words of Crumbly|
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|Thursday, February 18th, 2010|
|What do I have?
I'm 25. I don't have a husband. I don't have a child. I don't even have a job. LOSER. Current Mood: melancholy
|Sunday, February 14th, 2010|
So I'm waiting to talk to Leonard, but Leonard is waiting to talk to Big Leonard. Then once Big and Little Leonard have spoken, I can join the conversation.
But that means waiting. And I hate playing the waiting game, especially since I have no Leonard here with me to talk to. I could go do my excersises, but what if I get the call during the middle of making both cheeks even? I couldn't leave right then and there and risk uneven cheeks. What about the shower, too? I can't just get up after Pilates and trapse out to see Little Leonard, so what should I do? I guess I'll browse the Internet, as stupid and putrid as I find it.
Or I could get back to that drawing of my nephew I was working on in Photoshop, but I just don't feel particularly inspired at this moment. We're getting Pergo floors put in, so the house is upsidedown almost literally. A lot of the furniture is upsidedown in the living room, piled in there like a labrynth of couches and tables and chairs and that behemoth television.
So I got some email from two very old friends that I drifted apart from. How do I tell them that I haven't matured at all since 2002? How do I tell them I've gone backwards into madness and obnoxiousity and can't get out? It's far more fun than having a "real" life, but I'm almost 26, shouldn't I at leave have a hand in reality? Nah, not yet. Maybe when I'm like 40, but then once you're 40, you don't have much time left, and then you may get a comb over, but since I dont' have to worry about male pattern baldness as I am a lady, that shant be a problem.
I need to Ped Egg my feet, but I don't know where I misplaced my Ped Egg. Or my little head massager thing. I found the box for it the other day, but no head massager was in the box. How dissapointing. I should like to find it someday.
I wish I could party with Benny and all those hippie children again. No children in the smoke circle, of course. New Years Eve 2009 was the BEST New Years I have ever experienced. Even better than spending it in the Southside of Pittsburgh like I did New Years Eve 2005. Maybe I didn't get a hot kiss from a man, but I got a hot kiss of puke on my lips after the cops showed up and totally gave me The Fear. Fuck the police, it's their fault I vomited all over my computer bag. Oh yea, I puked all over my laptop case, but the computer inside was fine.
Well, I'm bored writing in here, so I'ma call this entry quits. Current Mood: cold
|Tuesday, February 9th, 2010|
|Pirates of the Bahamas VI
Jimmy Jackers. This thing hasn't been deleted yet??? Good thing, this journal is a fantastic tome of my happenings, however random and unimportant they may seem, this is a special little corner of the Internet that is mine.
And Robot Chicken is more annoying when just listening to it. When the sound it off, it's almost tolerable, but as i'm writing this, I have a tv on, and the noise the noise the noise is grating on my last nerve.
I should really back the truck up. I mean back up this LJ. Ladies Love Cool James.
"Leggo my Eggo, bitch" -James, Rick. He never said that, but I'd like it if he did.
New Tim and Eric on thee 28th! Callooh Callay, we'll smoke todaaaaaaaay....loik cabbages and Kings... Current Mood: cold
|Sunday, June 21st, 2009|
|This Isn't Happening or Deathblog 2009
I can't think of a fitting way to write this down in tribute, but I just need to record this in my Livejournal.
Early Thursday morning, June 18, around midnight my dad, Michael Bernz, passed away in his sleep. His CPAP machine came off of his face, and we are guessing that in that time he stopped breathing and Jesus took him home.
I'm just numb. The crying comes in waves. At times I can laugh and crack up at the simplest thing, but then without warning comes a black wave of sadness that puts me all alone underneath the riptide of loss.
Also, our dalmatian Peanut isn't doing well. He keeps messing in his sleep, and his back legs are very weak. Mom says once everything is settled with my dad, we'll need to think of putting Peanut to rest as well, so he can die with dignity. Then we are going to take a trip or something, just to get away. I hope Carolyne could housesit for us, I'm sure she wouldn't mind.
I just also want to thank my friends for being incredibly supportive, esp Carolyne (Chester on this LJ), who has been staying over and sleeping in the bassment since before this tragedy happened.
Just for the record, and I'm not sure how long these links will be valid, but here's some info on my dad, the local Radio Legend.Norwich Bulletin Obit Radio-Info Message Board topic Article from the Bulletin Current Mood: crushed
|Thursday, April 2nd, 2009|
|Breaking the Ice
So I've been out of the hospital for two weeks now, and I can't say I really feel that much better. I'm going to Outpatient classes three days a week for three hours each day. I guess they're helping a little. It doesn't help that I've developed a car phobia and driving is mentally tiring and scary as hell, like it's never been before. I don't know where that came from. And I can't even see a message blink on the answering machine without thinking it's horrible news.
We're not going to Florida this year because I had to fuck it up and get sick again. C already made arrangements with her job so I feel especially bad that she'll have that time off with nowhere to go. We may go to the AmericInn for a night because they have a pool with lax closing hours. Last time we were in there until twelve-thirty in the morning and still no one came to shoo us out for closing time. We were just pruney and wanted to go smoke and watch Adult Swim.
But now I can't even watch Adult Swim because I have to go to bed at 11 each night. Eratic sleeping hours are a no no in therapy. So is smoking weed, but how the hell am I supposed to just stop doing the ONE AND ONLY THING that stops the panic and hummingbird feeling in my chest and body? Today one of my therapists told me she doesn't wear her seatbelt 100% of the time. In my opinion, that's MORE wrong than smoking pot, which I do responsibly in my own home and not around anyone who doesn't like it. I was just floored at that statement, that she doesn't always wear her seatbelt. My brain can't even comprehend the wrongness of this situation.
I had my first piss test today. It will be "dirty" and I am almost certain they'll never get a "clean" sample from me. I know Obama isn't going to legalize, but the best we can hope for is a state-based decriminalization. I'd get involved with NORML, but I'm too paranoid, that has NOTHING to do with weed. If anything, weed makes me LESS paranoid. It puts things into perspective for me, and it centers me back to the earth where I understand not everything is out to get me or that failure lurks around every decision I make.
Weed makes the things I dread seem comical, like I can handle anything, becaue nothing in life can ever be THAT bad. But maybe they can be, I'm just stuck with thinking something bad will always happen. My mom says that's OCD, but I think I've just been screwed over too many times by life.
Carolyne is coming over tonight so we can play some Guitar Hero. GH always gets my mind off of matters (got my foot on the ladder and I'm climing up to the moon?), and it keeps my hands busy and not pulling out my hair.
Oh, in other news, My nephew is the cutest baby I've ever seen. He's such a pleasant soul. So happy and he giggles when you just brush your lips on his delicate ears for a tiny kiss. I wish I didn't have panic attacks when thinking about him entering the wild world, but I can't control anything that happens to him. I'm only in control of my own emotions, and what happens to me. It's just remember that that's the key.
Well, this post took a lot out of me so I'm going to go take a power nap and/or a Seroquel to calm down. I just hope the Lamictal starts working soon. I'm up to 50mg a day and I still swing from moods like fucking Curious George on a vine. But I'm trying to remain positive and keep changing. We played Pictionary in open group today, and my drawing of a piggy bank totally owned. Hell yea.
Until next time,hopefully not eight weeks from now, take care journal land. And remember: No Dumping, No Jiving. Current Mood: cold
|Wednesday, February 4th, 2009|
|I want to warm my bones in Florida
I want to live in Florida more than anything else right now. I'm teasing myself by looking at all the decently priced apartments and houses for rent in the Space Coast area. Brevard County or bust!
I wonder if living in Florida would really clear up some of my problems. Or would I just be "running away" from things? Is the sun and heat really that powerful to get me out of a slump? When I go to Cocoa Beach for a week I come alive in a certain way. Nothing little bothers me, and the slower pace of life is refreshing. The heat makes you feel intoxicated, and the sun in the sky stays up there for so long to blaze the streets with its warmth and rays.
We leave for Florida in TEN WEEKS. I know the time will fly, and once Daylight Savings Time rolls around, that makes life a bit easier.
I used to want to live in Arizona, but I think the desolation and dryness would get to me. If I had to chance to move to Arizona at the snap of a finger, I wouldn't hesitate for a milisecond. But it's just that Florida has a retro vibe AND let's not forget the glorious, pulsing ocean.
I feel like I'm stuck here in CT. Mentally I know I can't handle working for many more hours than I already do, so that severely limits my income. I would be willing to become a fucking MAID if it meant I got to live in Florida. A job's a job, but if you're somewhere you love, coming home from that job is a treat.
In other news and in reply to the always fabulous Cycomonkey, I have NOT read E's book yet. I know it will probably make me wail and ball my eyes out, and lately I've been on an emotional tightwire, so I think I'm going to wait to read it until I'm a little more mentally stable. I remember years ago when I first got into EELS and they were my whole world, THAT'S when I would have liked to read E's book. Not that I don't still love EELS, I'm just not obsessed with them right now.
It's strange. Ever since I started smoking I want to listen to more bass-ier music. Like good, underground hip hop like J Dilla. Or Cypress Hill. Music with a hypnotic beat and killer hooks. EELS takes more of your brain to appreciate the subtle instrumental nuances, and lately my brain wants to just be numbed and surrounded with a beat.
I feel ashamed that I didn't know Dick Valentine was on Red Eye. I'm conflicted about Faux News and Red Eye, but I'll give them the thumbs up for having Dick AND Neil Hamburger as guests. Fox News can't all come under Bill O'Reilly's scummy rule.
WOA. A guy who looks just like CREED BRATTON from The Office
just walked in! He was looking for the Little League Meeting. Not here, buster. Soarry.
Did some Japanese girl really jump into a volcano or is that just a Beck lyric that's going over in my head? Time to ask the Google. Time to end this entry too. It's 7pm and we close in an hour, and there's still a load of shelving to do. Until next time, mahalo and salame. Current Mood: thirsty
|Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009|
WHere to begin. For starters, I was a clammy finger's legnth from going to the hospital yesterday and at points during the past week. I'm just fucking done. My nerves are shot and "the possibility of mental collapse is now very real." If that hasn't happened already, what was that strange wailing and suffocated breathing coming out of me uncontrollably yesterday as the events of the day took a 180 and ended all my assumptions and routines. SO much for carefully laid plans.
For you see, I have had the week from hell. For starters, last Monday night I forgot to take my medications. I was in a lucid state all night, inches away from being able to open my eyes, but stuck hopelessly in a dream loop that was too exciting but horrifying to escape from. SO when I woke up last Tuesday, I was understandably a little shaken up at the poor quality of sleep I endured Monday night. My "jangled nerves" were so bad I left work an hour early because I just knew I wouldn't be able to handle working with a particular co-worker.
Oh yes, I also ordered my text book for class online on Tuesday. Later that day I get a notification email that my book is processed and ready to pick up. Yea!!! Well, the hell that ensued when I went to go get the book on Thursday is the stuff of LEGEND. My temper and anger that dwells under the surface will destroy me one day and land me in jail, and for that I do'nt think I"ll mind because an instutionalized way of life takes the guess work and surprises out of life, the very things that are making me mad with anger and anxiety.
Long story short, the morons at the bookstore didn't have my book despite the fact that I got an email that it was ready. I threw an absolute fit. I think if just one person working there had been minutely apologetic or shown some ANY sort of regret at THEIR error, I wouldn't have lost it. I dropped probably thirty F-bombs, I was livid. The head of the bookstore says 'There's a child in here!' and I say 'I don't give a shit!' and they say 'Clearly you don't!' SO then the curly haired cunt goes to get security, but by then I left on my own, flipped off the guards and bellowed a huge "FUCK YA'LL" in the lobby of the school. At least I got a good parking spot.
But the fun doesn't end there. You see, my loving parents went to the bookstore the next day because I said there was no way in hell I could ever go back in there, at least not for a while. Well guess what. The motherfucking cunts at the bookstore SOLD two copies of the book I needed, but didn't put one aside for me despite the fact that I paid for it already and came in once. So my mom got all up in their faces too. I swear I hope I never have to do business in there again. The staff is so STUPID. That's the only word for it. The staff of the Three Rivers bookstore is an ignorant lot of fatheaded young people who have no idea what "Customer Service" or even "service" even means.
Well, the glory and power of our Lord just had to shine down upon me in typical Job fashion as yesterday, when I FINALLY was able to get the book, MY CAR DIED ON THE WAY TO THE BOOKSTORE. I'm getting so fired up thinking about the horrible events that transpired after that that I can't and don't even want to recount them here.
Let it just be said that I had to call AARP road service THREE times, and each time I got disconnected and had to call back and go through all the same bullshit of member number, what kind of car, where the car was, etc. Mind bending frustration. On the third try I was in my car wailing and screaming like a maniac, so I called my mom. She came and picked me up and brought me home and went back to the site of my broken down car. Finally the tow truck came, but I was at home in a nest of blankets, trying desperatly to get back in a womb of some sort. As if the billowing covers and thick blankets could create an actual safe haven, but it works for me.
Then at dinner I revealed my insane fear that one of our cats will get stuck in the recliner we just bought. I know my fear is kind of irrational, but I just get these graphic and greusome mental pictures of pulling a mangled cat corpse out from under the recliner. So then my tool of a dad goes to tell a story about how one time a cat was in his engine. I got all upset because I didn't want to hear the story, then my mom got upset because I was upset, then my dad got all loud and nasty with my mom, and I just freaked out again for the third time that day.
I ran from the table screaming how much I hated their rotten souls, then I tried to strangle myself with my bare hands (dumb), and then I flipped over a box of garland that was in my way, fell, and was kicking and screaming in my hallway. I wanted to go to the hospital, but I knew they wouldn't be able to help me. They would just tell me to take deep breathes and do Dialectical Behavior Therapy which is TOTAL BULLSHIT in my opinon. DBT doesn't work for me. All the handouts and papers just add up to more clutter in the house and they don't even help. I think I need a total med reevaluation, but then the issue of smoking pot is going to come up. I don't even want to get into that.
I'm exhausted from reliving all the bad bullshit that happened over the past week, so I'm calling this entry quits. It's snowing again and I'm pissed about that, but at least come 2pm I can go back home and crawl back into bed. Current Mood: cranky
|Sunday, January 18th, 2009|
|Pony and Petunia: Two Cats
So it's snowing like a motherfucker AGAIN. I hate you Ye Olde Farmer's Almanac for being right. We've had a storm a week here in southern Connecticut. The past few days when I've gone off to work it's been -7 degrees. This is total bullshit. Why did my parents have to birth me in New England? At least, Tarvu
willing, C and I will be spending 4/20 in Florida. Plans are to leave the 15th and come back some time the week after that.
C and I are also planning on rocking out in Scranton for C's birthday. Scranton is a kick ass town. Thank you The Office
for getting me so obsessed with a show. And thank you for Scranton only being 4 hours away. Oh, and whomever I'm thanking, while I'm at it, thank you for C's cousin getting married in Summer 07 in Scranton so we could get a first look at the city before OfficeCon later that year.
This is an interesting Sunday night because C is housesitting at a SWEET house in Franklin. Maybe I've written about it in here before. They have a gorgeous sunroom that, despite the snow, is still warm and inviting. Aside from some lighting issues in the kitchen, this house is freakin' sweet, as Peter Griffin would say. Sadly American Dad
isn't on Fox OR [as] tonight, so that saddens my soul just a little. Yea, my soul gets real down without my cartoons. OOoh, "my precious CAR-toons."
Well, I'm stumped at what else to jot down here. I just wanted to document that I'm at Linda's house with Ben and the two cats Pony and Petunia. We can't tell if Pony is a boy cat or a girl cat. I'm going to say he's a boy because I've been calling him Pony Boy.
Fuckin' NEW SImpsons...why do you have to suck? You no longer hold my rapt attention. It makes me sad when I think of you jumping the shark. Just go out with dignity, guys. The Simpsons Movie was brilliant, that should be enough. Fox has been playing the classic episodes from the 90s on weeknights. It has been a total blast from the past. I feel like I'm in 8th grade again. Most of my friendships in school years were based around being a mega fan of the Simpsons. C and I became friends because we would draw Simpsons doodles during Mr. Brunetti's science class. We even sat in the front row the the mustachioed teacher never took notice of our pages of comments and filler doodles. Probably because we were smart and did the work without giving the teacher GUFF.
Guff is my favorite word lately. I can't stop saying "This lighter is givin' me guff." And let's not forget the standard HST line, "Don't take any guff from these fucking swine." Duly noted. Humina. Chester got Twitter too. Check her out as plibt_. No period, just underscore.
I SPLIT MY PANTS. OMG. I'm petting Petunia and C asks "Did you rip your pants?" and I'm like "What are you on, NO I didn't rip my pants." But then I went to touch my butt and I felt that I did indeed split my pants down the rear seam!!! No wonder they were so comfortable. Good thing no one else is here. No menfolk to see my granny panties. I'm sorry, I just don't believe in wearing fancy or cute undapants when you're just lazing around and wearing pyjamas. Fuck that. Those things are expensive.
Well, it's going on 9pm. It feels like it's time to hit that pipe. We Oxycleaned all the resin and shit from the baby and now we can get much bigger hits. <a href="http://www.tarvu.com>Praise Tarvu!!!</a>
I'm going to sitsies down on the couch and relax for a while. Until next time, keep practicing your meat sculpting! Current Mood: amused
|Tuesday, January 13th, 2009|
|"Ya like ice?"
I had this aching in my being last night about how I've neglected this LJ. This journal has such a rich history, and is essentially my own private time capsule. I'm just remembering the joy and excitement I felt when I found out I had a date for the senior prom. How juvenile, but adorable and historic in some sense. I remember being so excited and actually thinking, nay, saying
"I can't wait to put this in my LJ!!!" It was a daily excerise, an outpouring of ideas and thoughts and gripes and frustrations. A lot of procrastination has been done on this journal, too. And I want there to be more to this LJ again. Maybe that should be my New Year's Resolution, but as soon as you make a commitment to something, it takes on a different dimension and you look for ways to avoid the responsibility. Or at least I do. Human flaw.
Speaking of human flaws, working at a library brings into contact with me some interesting characters. SOme I can't stand and wish to jab their fingers with ballpoint pens until they just can't stand anymore of the infection and pain. Other people actually come in to see ME and my co-worker. We call them our "Friday Friends." Every Friday like clockwork (usually) we have a battery of patrons who come in to chew the fat, take out only new things, or ask us "Do these have subtitles?" Here's a clue: They are called FOREIGN and Independent Films... key word there is foreign. What the hell do you think?
But there's this one lady who comes in and drops off "Tim," our horrible student aide who is retarded I am convinced. "Auntie Ria" Tim calls her, and Auntie DiahrRIA thinks it's ok to waltz in at ONE MINUTE to close on a Saturday and ask Tim too look up a shitload of stuff. SO a few Saturdays ago I was very passive aggressive
and said loudly enough so that fucking Auntie Ria would hear 'I think it's fucking RUDE to take up time like that at the end of the day.' I haven't gotten in trouble yet, but things will be awkward when I see fucking Auntie Ria.
Auntie Ria is also a fucking loser. She thinks she's this sexy vampire chick. But in actuality she is a lanky 55 year old thing, a total geek in the bad way. Her email is email@example.com or something horrible like that. She's always giving us vampire smut books. And I'm like "I don't even want to think about what this bitch must be thinking when she reads these terrible tomes."
I HATE vampirs. Lycans, Carpathians, FUCK YOU. WHenever I even hear the word "lycans" I think "lichens" like the moss group that grows on trees. I am defaulted to nature, not the fantasy world. I prefer non-fiction anyday to a story of love and bonding. Which is why it's odd that I'm reading The Secret Life of Bees
by Sue Monk Kidd. Totally not my regular style of reading. BUt so far I am really enjoying the story. It's brough tears to mine eyes, but so far I've been able to maintain my female emotions. GOlly I"m ever so sensitive...
What else can I gripe about...you know, and this shocks me, I actually FEEL like doing my work. I am processing and cataloging 14 new movies my boss picked up. Out of all of them, the only one I'm interested in is 21
. The rest of the lot looks pretty scrappy. But we did get "Are We There Yet?" with his majesty Iced Cube. THAT is some goooood movie watchin. *shudder*
Anyway sexxy readers, I may update again later. I had a rambling monologue about how I hate people who don';t want other people to be happy- like people who oppose gay marriage. Just because you're an Xtian doesn't mean the whole fucking country has to follow your dogma and set of rules. And if God said he's against homosexuality, he also is against eating a good meal and then fucking afterwards. So God is really fighting a losing battle with the world. We want to do what we want to do. Free Will has never been more prevalent. I for one don't hate the good Lord, I love the cosmic being that I depend on in hard times. But that's another place for problems. Liberals who hat Xtians. That's just creating another border fence of hate. What the hell? Can't we all just get along? If everyone would just smoke a joint I think we'd have a better perspective on things. At least that's what smoking does for me.
Well, I don't mean for this to turn into a political rant. I'm not good at that. As much as I love Hunter THompson's work, I myself don't posses such vim and vigor lately. The hate just stews inside me and comes out when I pick scabs and pull out hair. Go mental illness. Three Cheers for the Brain.
A man and woman just brough in two huge boxes of GORGEOUS art books!!!! The one on Georgie O'Keefe is fucking mindblowing and gigantic. Picasso! Oh man, tons of awesome stuff I have to go fondle and pillage. Untill next time, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, this Crumb Bum is signing off. Current Mood: hungry
|Friday, January 9th, 2009|
|2009 - Year of the Dugong OR Dugongathon 2009
Welly welly well...it's 2009 and we didn't do a year in review post for 2008. That could be because, thankfully, the year wasn't too horrible to get through. It's not that a lot didn't happen (BARACK!) it's just the drive and desire to post to my LJ have waned in the dust-driven haze of everyone being connected all the time online. It's none of your freakin' business, whoever you are. Maybe it's all the weed I've ingested that's made me more paranoid, I just don't want strangers and random oocytes piling on to this page.
I don't feel any intense emotion like I did before. C and I were talking, and we came to the conclusion that everyone needs to live through High School because the suffering and emotional times are just too ripe to miss. However, if I could, I think I would re-do High School knowing what I know now about drugs, people, and fear.
Speaking of feelings, I almost cried the day my nephew was born, but I didn't have PMS and my meds must have been working and planets were aligned in such a way that I was able to be around this miracle of life without crying and sobbing like some depressed over-emotional fuckface. GO ME!
Li'l Gil: Born Dec. 15, 2008. 7lbs 13oz, 21inches long.
I haven't seen Lil Gil in a few weeks since I've been sick with the phlegm and the mucus. I hear he's gotten squirmy and strong. I'd post some pics but I don't want my baby to be exposed to the whole internet. Maybe I'll do a friends-only post with some pixxxx.
ANyway, 2009 is the Year of the Dugong. Dugongathon 2009.
I am at work and I just did a shitload of knitting books on cd. How...thrilling. I think I'm going to go home for lunch since I couldn't find any of the soups that go with you to work.
Oh! I also started a TWITTER account. Look me up. I am CrumblyFish. I have no friends there. You could be so much happier being my friend on Twitter. Yea right, I"m going to forget about Twitter in a few weeks, just like I always do with OKCupid.
Maybe if the urge to journal hits me later I'll do a 2008 recap or something. At least one good thing to note: 2008 was totally COP-FREE! No run-ins with the fuzz at all! That's amazing to me!
I think I'm going to go put on the new radio104 online so I have some tunes to work to. Internet radio is so cool. Totally. I want a new mp3 player so bad. I think I'm going to go with the Sansa Fuze 8gb. I have $30 off at WallyWorld, so it would be a good deal.
Anyway, a library board member is here right now, so I'm going to bid farewell to LJ until next month probably. Until then, dugong dugong! Current Mood: busy
|Tuesday, December 9th, 2008|
|Derelict Marathon of Impending Childhood
So I'm almost an aunt. My sister is ready to blow Gil out from her nethers and bring another life to crowded, flat Earth to crawl on fours then walk on twos.
I'm taking a break from decorating the library for Xmas. I put the tree up, and I can feel all the lead seeping into my fingers via osmosis through skin contact. Next I'll put the lights on, assuming the ancient strands of lights still work.
I am almost finished with my major digital collection final project. I did mine on the basic facts and important social and cultural contributions of Hunter S. Thompson. I'm pleased with the PowerPoint slides, but I still have to make all my metadata records, bibliography, and write my one page reflection. Also notes on creation of the slides, but for our purposes, the flashy show of slides just needs to be done for the 11th. I have until the 18th to get the nitty gritty done, then I can drive to East Lyme to visit my professor and have her take a look at the final final product.
I also have a digital portfolio I need to bullshit my way through. I suck at "staying connected." Once my class lets out Thursday night, it leaves my brain until Thursday comes around again. This is bad, as I was supposed to have been writing reactions and finding websites and shit like that for each class, but I never did that. So...like the procrastinating bastahd that I am, I will have until the 18th to cobble together TEN article reactions and class-relevant notes. Thank god for the extra time, or else I'd have to have taken an Incomplete I am certain.
Anywhat, I didn't have any clear reason for writing an update, I just needed to kill some time and I felt like typing. Until the next update, Merry Fuckin' Xmas! Current Mood: geeky
|Monday, October 20th, 2008|
|Cum On Feel The Noize
It's been a long while, LJ. TWELVE weeks. Thought I forgot about you? No, I agonized over you for days. I often think about you and your current barrenness. Did I spell that right? Fuck it if I didn't. It's a BLOG THANG, got it?
Not much has been happening, seriously. I go back and forth between the happiness and the glÜm of depression and anxiety, but those two fuckers have yet to get me. Though they are constantly in my periphery, I have managed to avoid being totally overtaken by the slave world of mental illness.
I still have a job, and I'm very thankful for that in this economy. I plan on voting for YOMAMA, I mean OBAMA, and TWO fucking times I have ran over a McPain/Palin sign on my road. Those fuckers don't belong up NORTH here. This is sacred land of openness and freedom, and people who don't ditch their first wives when they get crippled in an auto accident.
I hate vampires, so I'm sad that Alan Ball is doing a series about vampires. If it was about VANPIRES, then we are sizzling. I hate love stories too, essentially. Unless someone looses an eye or lots of teeth in the story through unbalanced madness and agression and violence. That's what comes to mind when I think of love. That's normal, eh Gee?
ELECTRIC SIX released Flashy!
tomorrow which I will drive to Warwick to buy, as Newbury Comics is the ONLY place 'round these parts to sell new E6 records. You can find Fire
in chain stores, but that is just the beginning of E6. They are SO MUCH MORE THAN "GAY BAR."
FUCKYOU people who go to E6 shows JUST to hear "Gay Bar" and "Danger! High VOltage." I spit on you and your graves. And that's ME who is stomping on your feet and jamming my elbows into your sides at the E6 shows. Beware. And if I have a few $8 Mojitos and a couple of BEERZ, you better doubly watch out for my elbows of fury.
I didn't have anything in mind to journal about, just wanted to resusitate this LJ from the brink of being abandoned. See, they didn't sign a DNR form, so I have to keep the LJ alive.
Why am I always falling for a Capricorn? I've dated 2, and it didn't work out, but it wasn't because of the Capricornness, I don't think. It was because One Guy had a job at McDonald's, and it is unconscienable to sleep or get touchy feely with a dude who flips burgers, and the Second Capricorn was a poor fellow whose Mother raped him of a life. The dude was 25 and NEVER had a job. How sad. I wish I stayed friends with Mike, though. He was my best friend for a while, and I miss having more friends. Maybe I'll email him. I've been wanting to reconnect with people I've cut off ties with. Am I going to die? WHy do I have this powerful urge?
Hung out with Steph and Kevin yesterday. That was awesome. I tried hydroponic weed, and I must say it was highly enjoyable. What weed isn't? Unles it's that creeper shit taht shows up while you're driving back home and your mom is all like "You're stoned!" and then you are all like "Duh, biotch."
Anyway mens and ladies, I do have a job to get back to. I was hard working, now hardly working, now back to work. Until next time,
VOTE FOR OBAMA, PLEEEEEEEAAASE. Or Ralph Nader. I voted for the bloke in 2004 because someting about Kerry always rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was his politician chin and shoulders. Robot man. Tinker with his soul, robot man. Man and wife. Free to wed. Current Mood: nauseated
|Thursday, July 24th, 2008|
|I wanna get sick in your toilet.
God damn, I'm in limbo again. It's a strange place. Halfway between preventing the monster attacks and avoiding slipping on banana peels that have been carelessly discarded from the windows of moving cars.
What I think I'm trying to say is that somewhere inside my chemistry, something isn't right. Is it medications? Drugs? Illegal drugs? Too much alcohol? How can I spend these kinds of fees on things you will piss and shit out. Up in smoke. My money goes up in smoke, just a few hits though are all it's worth.
Almighty lost his title. I was sick of the skinny puppy's poor business practices. I'd never pass out on a call. Business is shameful and practical embarrasment when your goods just can't cut the mustard.
Cutting the mustard sounds grosser than cutting the cheese. Granted there are stinky cheeses out there, mocking the scent of blood, but mustard is all around disgusting. The color, the fact that it is mushed up seeds. I have a beef with eating mushed up seeds, even in applesauce and pudding.
THIS WAS PART ONE. MAYBE I WILLS WRITE LATER. Current Mood: distressed
|Saturday, July 5th, 2008|
|If your Head was to Explode
I can't sleep. I popped a pill at 9 and I should have known this would happen. I can't stop thinking about guys. Why do I want a boyfriend? THis happens to me every summer. I have to admit something. I am intimidated by a lot of guys. Why? I have like no experience, and I turn to jelly if something bad happens. I lose my cool. I need a guy who doesn't intimidate me. A nice guy. Someone genuine. and I know that's asking a lot, but I think I miss having a close human relationship. And sex. I could go for some sex. Problem is, guys around here don't go for chunky ladies. Unless they are black, and usually black guys adress me as "Shawty" and that makes my middle finger response activate.
I think it has to do a bit with lonliness as well. No one is home, and after a night of smoking and whatnot, the lights go down and I'm all alone. No one execpt for a few people even know I exist.
I've been thinking about being a phone sex operator. A total fucking prostitute. I need the money, and I can fake love cock. Who can't? Gays, I bet. But I'm honestly horny, and it won't do to ram some plastic jelly dick up myself becuase it's NOT REAL. I have to do ALL THE FUCKING WORK.
For once CAN'T SOMEONE ELSE DO IT?
This is an X rated LJ post.
THe first of its kind maybe. It should be the last. I'm not an open book. Screw this kind of honesty. Current Mood: lonely
|Saturday, June 14th, 2008|
The feeling of neglecting LJ and using writing as a way to express my inner thoughts has been bugging me lately, so while I'm at work I'm going to try and "blog" a little. Even though this is NOT a blog. And as I went to the back room to get a glass of water, I realized that I preface nearly evry LJ entry the same. How original. What's wrong with me. Why do I feel the need to apologize about my boring prefaces? Because I want to be remembered as original. Creative. A decent writer, and when I cop out and preface my entries like I just did, I guess I feel as if I'm just saying the same thing over and over again. But it's shit to get down on yourself. So here's some writing from my brain.
It's Summer Reading Kickoff today, our theme is "Catch the Reading Bug." I'm wearing my library-issued "uniform" which is a bright green t-shirt with cartoon bugs reading on it. This will make getting dressed on Fridays easy, I tell you what.
Despite that preface, it is true. LJ is what I use when I have thoughts that need to be put down so they don't explode in my brain. So basically what I want to put down here is my thoughts and dreams about trying LSD. Acid. L. 'cid. Whatever you call it, I want to try it. I've wanted to try it for over a decade, and with the passing of ALbert Hoffman, I feel it is TIME.
I feel that I'm in a good mental place to trip on acid right now. The only thing really worrying me is gas prices, and now that I've made peace with the idea of taking a "stay-cation" it just pisses me off more than worries me. Thank the Great Magnet for the Volkswagen. If I didn 't have Franz to cart around in I'd be screwed.
I also need to get both cars in for checkups. That's more money trouble. But money is so...absurd to me. Paper and metal tokens that we exchange for the shit we absolutley must have, and even the shit that we only want. Like that block of foam papers I bought. Wtf, Crumbs? I just wanted to cut up colors that day, and it was only a dollar, so what the fuck.
But I digress. THis post is about how I'm READY and in a good mental place to trip on LSD. I just need the materials, time, and place. I have the place (my house) and I can get the time, it's just the materials that we must procure. Chester has a connection out West, but we haven't heard from them yet. I've been praying to God/Jesus/Great Magnet everyday with thanks and praise, hoping that my good graces will enchant the spirits enough to have this drug trip fantasy become a reality.
Yes, we experienced Morning GLory seeds, but that was relatively expensive and GROSS. The only way I'll do that again is putting the stuff into gelcaps. All in all, it would probably take about $17 (estimate) to trip on the seeds. And that's assuming I can get at least 10 packages and a bottle of echinacea or other cheap herb that I can sadly *waste* just to get the capsules. It's stupid pricey to buy empty capsules, and you have to wait for them to arrive, and you have to buy a shitload that would last the greatest vitamin nut until they died of some ironic health realted cause.
But devil LSD, the elusive bastard I have searched and longed for since I was in the 7th grade, is much cheaper. And less time consuming. The last time I attempted to trip on the seeds I put the powder in capsules, but NOTHING happened. I'm not sure if it was the seeds or the setting, but it was a total waste. At least with chewing a little piece of paper you don't have the wicked grit and taste of the dreaded MG powder.
I'm not afraid of death, I've dealt with my past, and I am somewhat mentally stable unless provoked before going to work. This leads me to believe that I'm in a good place to trip. I've read reports of other mentally ill people taking acid and not going "permanently crazy" even though that is a fearful possibility I'm choosing not to entertain. I've tripped on LSA, technically twice but really only once, and I made it through. My biggest concern is that I weigh more than I did when originally tripping in 2005. I'm not sure if I"ll need more because of this or not. We shall see.
I keep wanting to write something really meaningful and deep, but when I am pondering thoughts in my mind, I'm never somewhere where I can jot the ideas and musings down. I used to carry a mini notebook with me, but I just haven't felt creative in my writing for a long time. In the middle of the day I will get these intense bursts of self-awareness and little "truth bubbles" come from the heavens and pop on my head. But when this happens it seems the closer I get to writing down what's happening, the thoughts and ideas fade away. It's very frustrating, and probably the greatest source of sadness for me.
I used to be able sit down at a keyboard and just weild my authorative power, but not lately. I think I'm just not making time for it. I haven't been really inspired, but I feel that taking a deep mental journey might wake something up inside of me that was alive in 2005. That was an amazing year, and because I succumbed to my mental illness, everytthing went down the tubes- my health, my weight, everything. But there is still a little part of me that is not conquered by the changes, I am working on returning to my 2005 self, it is just a slow process.
I sincerely feel that taking an lsd trip might give me a feeling of renewal and a newfound feeling of being AWAKE. And aware. I'm intensely AWARE of what is going on in this world, yet I'm not AWAKE enough to attack at the wrongs and make them feel right. Gas, politics, fucking elections, there will be another Great Depression, and things are going to get BAD. I intend on exiting the planet if things get too horrible, but for now I'm just going to enjoy the "calm" before the storm.
I need to get to work because the chillens are arriving, but I just want to document one last thing. Icky Thump
by the White Stripes is the greatest album of Summer 2008. I know it came out last year, and I feel shamefully out of the loop, but THIS is the time I was supposed to discover Icky Thump. Last weekend, Chester and I were sitting outside and smoking on a warm evening when we saw the Icky Thump BUG! I swear, there was this bug who was dancing to the White Stripes. During the slower songs he took off, but as soon as Meg started smashing the drums, back he came to dance on the lantern lights! It was truly amazing. Chester tried to document the occaision, but to no avail. Maybe this weekend.
Anyway, it's mad busy now, so ADIOS! Current Mood: busy
|Friday, June 6th, 2008|
|Six Feet Under
Chester and I have been obsessivly watching Six Feet Under
that I've gotten on interlibrary loan for the past few months. It's one of the greatest tv creations I've ever seen, and I'll do battle with any of ya'll who claim it to be pretentious and lofty. Dude, it's a show about DEATH, what do you expect? If you don't like Six Feet Under
than I want you to make something BETTER. Top it, bastards!
Anyway, I have a total love for this show and all the characters, and I am actually sad to see it come to an end. Granted I only ever saw ONE episode when it originally aired, but I've caught up. Gah! Fuckin' fantastic!
But we have one episode left that I've been subconsciously putting off watching because I know I'm probably going to cry, and I hate crying at gay ass things like television and movies. But Six Feet Under
is all-encompassing. Shit like that really happens EVERY DAY. So I've decided it's ok to cry at the last episode.
There will be more crying I am sure as I also feel the need to document a tragedy. About 5 months ago Chester's little sister got pregnant, and just yesterday and through the night she gave birth to Little Anastasia, who had passed away in her womb. The circumstances of this whole occurence weren't good, and it's a blessing in many ways that this happened. Babies with Turners Syndrome are rarely born, and from what I've read, death is a better alternative than a life with Turners. I hope K can find some comfort in this, and also that she will learn
about the delicacy of life and how PROTECTION SAVES LIVES.
We're conceived just as easily as we could be aborted. Life is delicate. Screw that, I'm not that gentle. I've been broken a few times and haven't we all?
On a happier note, a memory.
One night, long ago in the Bassment, Chester and I were hittin' the baby and heeding its call like usual. The weather had taken a turn and in the distance we could hear rumbles of thunder. From the Bassment, the noise has a muffled, ominous tone, and honestly, I don't like being home alone in the Bassment when it's thundering.
Well, Chester and I are rather impaired when the thunder started, so we both register a feeling of intensity. "Oh man! This is intense!!!" The thunder was creeping both of us out, so to banish our bad vibes, I was overcome with the feeling that I could, without a doubt, mentally send the name of a song to Chester through telekenisis. So I tried.
And tried. And tried some more. More thunder, more head vibes. By this time my brain is swelling inside my hard candy shell of a skull, and I come to the point and I give up.
Long story short, I tried to send "Cumbersome" by Seven Mary Three to Chester's mind to take our minds off of the scary thunder.
I guess I had a high-ly inflated sense of my mental powers. Oh Cheech and Chong, you make my life merry.
There's an hour left to work and I really don't feel like doing anything, but if I do nothing, the hour will drag. Maybe I'll cover some paperbacks. Maybe play some Bookworm. Meh. I'm alive and things are good. The better the times, the less I seem to use LJ. Thanks for being a superb crutch, my underused LJ.
Until next time, Salame! Current Mood: blank
|Friday, April 11th, 2008|
My sister and brother-in-law had to put Smokey down yesterday morning. His prostate cancer made him deteriorate in like 2 days. It was so fast. I was going to go see Smoke before his final trip to the vet, but I just couldn't handle seeing him in such a state. Blood was coming out of his penis for crying out loud. I wanted to remember Smoktekey as he was for all of his life, not a cowering, dying and powerless beast that crossed many lines into human emotions that I will never forget him.
I really hope they have Smokey cremated. It may sound odd to some people, but we have all of our pets still in the living room with us. Their ashes are in little boxes with pictures next to them. I don't like the idea of burying anything, and it's still like having the pet nearby.
I feel like a can't write clearly right now. I should be working on a poster for our upcoming Mother's Day Book, Bake, and Plant sale. And the new Booktalk poster. What a great fucking job this is. The pay is shit, but I can purchase gas and herbs and pay my bills little by little, so there's nothing to complain about. I'm so rolling in it. I made about $6,000 last year! WHOO WEE! Poverty. Whatta bitch.
Laura and Richard's wedding is THIS Sunday. That came up fast. My dress is "smokin' hot" so I'm excited about getting to wear it. AND it and my shoes are comfortable, so I'm actually excited to go to a wedding for once. This is the first time I've been in a wedding before. Being Maid of Honor is a nice little title to weild around for a little while, but I think if anyone ever asks me to do that again, I'll just be honest with them and tell them I can't afford it.
I just looked at the clock and it's time to go water plants and finish these posters.
Until next time, P'COCK! Current Mood: busy
|Wednesday, April 9th, 2008|
|It's a Sign of the Times
Just a quick update as I have lost my LJ writing muse but have fantastic and not so fantastic news that I needed to document in here.
For the bad news: Smokey (Smotekey) has arrived at the near end of his existence, mere days left of his life. He has prostate cancer and is in a lot of pain. My brother-in-law is taking him to the vet tomorrow for a status check, but I will be saying my goodbyes then, just in case he doesn't make it through the weekend.
However, one life comes to an end as another begins... MY SISTER IS PREGNANT!!!! I'm going to be an auntie! That is so badass.
So it's a mixed bag of emotions of course, as most things usually are. The height of thrills only ushers in dissapointment and terror- "this isn't the outcome we wanted" and something goes wrong. Or maybe it's just the end of one thing and the beginning of another.
In the words of Bright Eyes, "the scales always find a way to level out."
Other good news: I have made a few great Goodwill scores, mostly from the Goodwill in Merrit Island, Florida. Chester, Santa, and I went to Cocoa Beach a week or two ago. Smoked in the bathroom. Fended off drunken generic girls named "Nicole" and a boy named "Peter." Did they make those names up? Maybe they were alibis. I wouldn't tell strangers my whole life story, even if drunk. Just elaborate details that are probably not true.
I am at work at this very moment, and it is quiet. I do'nt mind, but I didn't take a pep pep pill this morning so my ass is dragging. Not to mention this dog-tail headache I have- like a dog's thick tail keeps hitting me in hte back of the head. That's a hangover.
Hangover + no pep pills = Naptime ASAP and low productivity
Just don't tell the boss! This is like stream of consciousness writing here, I'm just letting my fingers fly because I'm in a numb loop and this mild physical activity feels pleasant.
My dad and I have been "bonding" over smoking. It's pretty funny. I never foresaw that one happening. He keeps my secrets, I keep his. Unless it's lucrative for me to rat him out, but I can't see that happening. We are a united front against each other and the spiritual black cloud that is my mother. Walking into a room, her energy and inner chaos rips at the delicate mesh of silence we have worked so hard to create. Shut up! Shup, dawg!!
Dudes, I have to go catalog some terrible movies we just got at the library. Until next time, or another 6 weeks, adios!
Oh! P.S. Cycomonkey, if you are reading this, please call or text me as I have lost your number in the madness of replacing cell phones. Current Mood: sore
|Wednesday, February 27th, 2008|
Hellooooo Dolly! And hello LJ. I'm not sure if I like how LJ tells me how long it's been since I last posted. It really makes time seem as if it's passing faster than it feels. Not like time feels as if it's passing slowly. Not by a long shot. Every time I stop to think "What day is it?" another two weeks have slipped by unnoticed.
There's like a shitload of stuff to write about. I've been quite busy as work lately so I haven't had as much free time to just write in here. But that's the first BIG NEWS item to report on. I'm no longer a long-term temp, but an actual, factual, library assistant. Go me! One of my co-workers, who is brutally insane so I will go easy on her, thought she was going to be getting the job despite being a nuicance to everyone in the library. She even quit
her job at another library because she was convinced, despite numerous complaints against her from EVERYONE, that she was going to get this job. Well, I
got the job, and rightfully so. I've been on fucking fire lately at work. My sign-making has been better than usual and now with a class and more hours under my belt I'm getting more confident in my post. I'm no longer just some young kid working at the library, I'm actually working in a career field I want to be in. Again, go me.
That's the best news. Some not so great news comes to us from a few weeks ago. It was horribly rainy and somehow my really nice Samsung phone fell out of my purse and into a puddle. It wasn't even submerged, but they seriously don't make things like they used to, and lo and behold, it doesn't work anymore. This caused a major panic in me and I ended up freaking out at my therapist's office. She's never seen me have an anxiety attack so she had no idea that I always breath the way I do when I'm freaking out. But she had to cover her ass so she called an ambulance and the brought me to the emergency room. The whole ordeal only took about 3 or 4 hours, a fucking record when dealing with emergency rooms, and they let me go home with a slight medication adjustment which seems to be working. End of story.
Those are basically the two major occurences I wanted to record in here. I'm not feeling too awake right now and I really just want to zone out and look at shoes for Laura and Richard's wedding.
Until next time, yadios! Current Mood: tired
|Tuesday, January 22nd, 2008|
|Think I'm going to puke
Uh yea, so apparently class WAS supposed to start today. Good thing I checked my email and saw that it was cancelled due to weather and the instructor being out of town.
I feel like I've been drugged today. I just can't get moving. I've been on the couch watching tv since 10:30 this morning. I could have been reading. Dr. Almighty and I are going to have a smoke-n-chat about Apathy
, a book by Paul Neilan I'm reading that is absolutley riotous. Every paragraph has a laff. The review on the back didn't lie.
I have a sex crush on Almighty. I want to do him. But I don't want anything to change, but I want to get to know him better because I just know he's a good person. We have similar tastes in books, movies, and music, why can't we be more than just drug clients? I mean, we don't have to have sex. WHy would he want to have sex with me? Everytime I see him I'm either in my robe with an assorted hat on, or pitifully nervous around him. Methinks I have a crush. It's been a long time since I've had a crush on a real person, not a cartoon or character in a book. How pathetic. Maybe next time I do a pick up I should don some makeup. But then that defeats my "fuck you I only wear makeup when I feel like it" plan. Already I want to change my appearance for a man. Life is hard. Good thing he doesn't know how hairy my legs are...
Uh but yea. Why am I so nervous about my class? I'm just not ready. I'll hopefully get the book I need tomorrow. Luckily my dad put away a bunch of my bonds as a kid so I have college book money, so I won't have to pay out of pocket, so that's good. Phew. Money is hella tight. I'd quit smoking (both kinds), but I view the little soldiers and my herbs as medication. That's not going to be phased out of the budget. I'll just cut down on taco purchases. It will be good for the health.
Speaking of health I'm going to join the YMCA. It's dirt freakin' cheap until you're 25, and they have volumes more stuff to do than Curves and my own "home gym" (i.e. the Wildebeest and DDR). This should be fun. Build up some pecs, sell the meat. Champion dreams.
I wasn't even going to show up for class today. How funny. It would have been an honest mistake, I swear. I though class didn't start until NEXT Tuesday. There go my Tuesday evenings, though I'll be home before The Office, so I can'ts complains. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous. I think I need to invest in a schedule book to keep track of my class times, work times, food times (gots to get those small meals in throughout the day), homework, doctor's appointments, etc. I use my phone, but if I write it down I think it will feel more concrete.
I'm rambling away. I ahven't updated from home in ages. Usually my dad parks himself down at the computer ALL DAY. And when he gets up and it's my turn, he comes back in and "needs to check something." Ugh, get a real fucking job already. Stop being a cocky, pompous asshole and settle, for now, so we have some goddamn income. Because it's making me terribly nervous that we have to scrape up cash to go grocery shopping. And here I am, buying smokes. Eh, I choose to put up the mask of indifference. Not my problem; I just sleep here.
Stress. Kill it. Kill your lungs. Current Mood: nervous