Saturday, February 26, 2011

steady about-face

Today, I'm airing out the house. Both doors open, fans on, music playing. The air has gotten stale in here. I washed the sheets too, emptied boxes, hung pictures. I feel this urge to...freshen up. Make things clean again, and good.

Over the winter, I kept telling myself "It's not as bad as it's been before. It's been worse and you've dealt with worse." But coming out of the last few months is almost a tangible feeling, like coming out of sticky black mud. It's been worse before but it was pretty bad this time, in retrospect.

I find myself wanting to wander around, like I did when I was unemployed. Apparently, when dealing with throwing off a deep sadness, I'm compelled to wander. I decided last weekend that it was high time to go get my bike fixed, so this morning I washed my hair, tied it back with a scarf, threw on some old sunglasses Candace gave me about 12 years ago and those pants that don't fit me at ALL(but that I'm in love with) (but seriously, they barely stay on and can be taken on and off without unzipping or unbuttoning) and walked over to Oak (after a brief yard sale stop with Shelby, where we got hanging lamps for the porch). I dropped the bike off and then walked around for an hour and a half. Up and down Oak, Dublin, Hampson, Carrollton, while listening to a couple of Mirah CDs on shuffle. In the midst of it, I thought to myself, "I am so fucking happy." It was kind of a surprising thought, honestly, but I turned it over a little and came to the conclusion that I am, in fact, so fucking happy. And, more surprisingly, happy because I was alone, happy in my solitude and wandering and feeling alive again. I love those little revelatory moments and I feel like I've been having a slew of them these last few months. I feel like I'm recovering lost parts of myself and making it whole again.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011


Marla really wants to lay on the keyboard. I have moved her 6 times.

texts from tonight:
Me: A nice young man just asked me out on a date in this here cawfee shop. I turned him down, but still cute.
Alyson: Whoa :)
Me: Guess the strung out student look is sexy to some! (not kidding here. I was curled up in a chair, wearing an overly large cardigan, scrawling notes and randomly muttering to myself.)
Alyson: mmm heroin geek chic. Mandi, Queen of the Coffee Scene :)
Me: hahaha "her glassy red eyes shone like rubies; the grinding of her teeth, the sweetest symphony!"
Alyson: I love you :)
Me: I love you too :)

Me (to my mom): Listening to B.B. King while studying and thought of you. Hope everything is ok. I'll try and call you tomorrow after class. Love you.

I'm so worried about my mom. She's so so close to totally losing her shit and I don't know what to do other than try and be in touch as often as I can, but sometimes, it's just too much for me to hear everyday. After I sent her that text, I started wondering what I would do if she did harm herself. It's becoming more and more of a tangible thought for me and the reality of it is terrifying. I had to stop thinking about it because I was choking up in the coffeeshop. I think the worst thing I can imagine happening to me, short of dying, is my mom dying. Even the thought of dying myself is tempered by the sadness it would cause her. I remember when Candace died and she told me, "I'd never be able to go on if something happened to you. I would just stop functioning. I would die too." In some ways, it's my motivation to be good to myself, not to harm myself. In other ways, it's repressive; I'm loathe to show depression around her. But I'm torn between my worry for her and my complete lack of desire to be around my family situation because it's so painful.

This happened today:
Justice Department to Stop Defending Federal Law on Gay Marriage

President Obama, in a major legal policy shift, has directed the Justice Department to stop defending the Defense of Marriage Act - the 1996 law that bars federal recognition of same-sex marriages - against lawsuits challenging it as unconstitutional.

Attorney General Eric H. Holder Jr. on Wednesday sent a letter to Congress to inform them that the Justice Department will now take the position in court that the Defense of Marriage Act should be struck down as a violation of gay couples' rights to equal protection under the law.

"The President and I have concluded that classifications based on sexual orientation warrant heightened scrutiny and that, as applied to same-sex couples legally married under state law" a crucial provision of the Defense of Marriage Act is unconstitutional, Mr. Holder wrote.

-NY Times

Currently reading J.L. Austin's How to Do Things With Words in prep for indie study + research paper + thesis. Excerpt:
Yet I will content myself here with pointing out that one of the things that has been happening lately in philosophy is that close attention has been given even to "statements" which, though not false exactly nor yet "contradictory," are yet outrageous. For instance, statements which refer to something which does not exist as, for example, "The present King of France is bald." There might be a temptation to assimilate this to purporting to bequeath something which you do not own. Is there not a presupposition of existence in each? Is not a statement which refers to something which does not exist not so much false as void? And the more we consider a statement not as a sentence (or proposition) but as an act of speech (out of which the others are logical constructions) the more we are studying the whole thing as an act.

So, I tend to walk around wearing headphones a lot. I like having a soundtrack of sorts, plus when I'm reading, music helps me concentrate. As I was walking to my car earlier, I was listening to "Beginning to See the Light" and drumming with my hands and, apparently, singing aloud, judging from the surprised looks of 2 passerby. I just smiled at them and continued on my way, which I hope was a good mask for my embarrassment.
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
Some people work very hard
But still they never get it right
Well I'm beginning to see the light.
There are problems in these times
But none of them are mine
Baby, I'm beginning to see the light.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
How does it feel to be loved?
How does it feel to be loved?

Saturday, February 19, 2011

functional algorithm design

It's been a productive two days. Since yesterday morning, I've gone to the doctor, gotten my car fixed, got a NOLA driver's license, renewed my registration, drank a bunch of whiskey and got my hair cut. Later, I'm going to work on a paper, order a school book and go to a Mardi Gras parade.

The doctor visit went really well. Dr. Moore spent about 10 minutes talking with me about my various health concerns, mostly regarding the PCOS. I told her I'd been off my medication for awhile and had some dizzy spells and one fainting incident. Nevertheless, she feels I was on entirely too much medication. She ordered a basic metabolic panel to check, among other things, cholesterol, blood sugar and white blood cell count (which could be a factor in the dizziness). After we get those values, we'll talk about possibly starting me back on insulin-resistance medication.

I also spoke to her about getting the Garadisil shot, which she recommended. I've been meaning to get that done for awhile. I went ahead and asked for a full STD screening as well (5 tubes of blood!), because I like being assured of a clean bill of health.

That said, I'm a tiny bit worried because, during the exam, she found some nodules in my right breast. She said that sometimes women get those right before a period, which would make sense for me, but if the're not gone in 2 weeks, we'll need to do a breast ultrasound. But my mom gets those as well and I hear they're fairly common, so hopefully it's nothing.

I came to BR afterwards and dropped my car off at the mechanic. As it turns out, the only thing really wrong with the car was a busted air hose, which was causing the machine at Auto Zone to register a broken fuel filter and a defective MAF sensor as well. Mom and I had lunch and went to the DMV, where I was both amused and disturbed by the amount of total freaks present, including one batshit lady who was telling a group of people in line about how "the federal government gives all our taxes to foreign banks and steals from us!" She was starting some kind of community task force to take on the government. Another man talked of a machine he had built that cures cancer but wasn't approved by the FDA because they don't like Chinese people.

Mom dragged me out shopping (and bought me new jeans and a spoon rest as compensation, even though I asked her not to) until my car was ready. I met up with Christie and we adventured at Perks, Whole Foods, Perks again, and Zee Zee Gardens. One of Christie's customers from Pinettas bought us 2 drinks each, on top of the ones we'd already ordered, and the bartender gave us free "chocolate cake" shots for giving her a pen. We ended the night in Christie's living room with some intense and therapeutic talking that I apparently passed out in the middle of. I woke up at 3am, stumbled into the kitchen and drank a bunch of water before going back to sleep...only to be woken by Christie's neighbors stumbling up the stairs and then singing the entire "Tommy" album, causing me to want to stab pens into my ears.

I left early this morning to go get my hair cut and now I look like a functioning member of society again. I need to work on my Medieval NOLA paper and do some reading for my ethics class before Krewe du Vieux. I'm toying with the idea of going drinking at Molly's or somewhere around lower Decatur after the parade and maybe getting some Angeli's, depending on who I can drag along with me. I want to go out and play.

Thursday, February 17, 2011


My brain is slowly peeking out of its writer's block fog...the other night, in the shower, I started thinking about a new non-fic piece. It might actually work better as fiction, but I'm an awful fiction writer, so I'm nervous about taking it there. We'll see. Reminder to self: write notes.

Things are slowly improving with my parents. My dad took my mom out to dinner the other night and got her a card for Valentine's day, along with some roses. I want to say that it's not enough, but I hope that little things lead to big improvements here. I hate having so much resentment toward my dad...but I hate that he insists on drinking until my mom has a nervous breakdown too. I've still been volleying the idea of writing about that whole situation on here, but there are still some things I need to work through. Too much comes flooding out when you start repeating the worst moments of your childhood.

I had a fun conversation with B.W. the other night about Bob Seger, Lil' Wayne and Irish wakes that somehow led to me downloading Van Morrison's "Wild Nights" and Leroux's "New Orleans Ladies," both of which I've been listening to almost non-stop. I wonder when my neighbors will tire of hearing "allllll the waaa---ayyy/from bourbon street/to ES-pla-naaade/they sashay by/they sassshay byyyyyyy."

Yesterday, compelled by who knows what reason, I decided I absolutely needed A New Dress. I ended up buying a cute little black dress with white embroidery (and SLEEVES!), prompting Erin to comment, "you need another black dress with white embroidery like a hole in the head." (this will bring the count to 4 if you count the black dress with an embroidery-style print.) I also got this insane 70's esque red printed maxi dress. Generally, I hear short girls shouldn't wear maxi dresses but I'm a sucker for anything that makes me feel like I could be sipping drinks on a lanai (also the sole reason I own a red muumuu).

Erin and I also had the following conversation:
me: I did think of you though
I was like "I'm buying a red dress! erin would be proud!"
is it weird that I thought to myself, of the black dress, "I can wear this to the doctor's office tomorrow!"
Erin: yes
that's kind of weird :P
me: mostly because we're having warm weather out and I like wearing dresses to the gyno
but planning your gyno visit outfit is a little strange
Erin: yes
just a little

Speaking of that particular visit, I think I'm being more neurotic than usual in planning for it. I made a list of questions, mostly about potentially getting the Garadasil vaccine and about the PCOS. I also made a list of my current and former medications, with dosages and frequency, AND I made notes of the start and end dates of my last period and of the last time I had sex. I am PREPARED. I just hate that feeling of walking out of a doctor's office and remembering some big thing that you wanted to talk to them about. And I hate being disorganized and potentially giving incorrect information (as in the case of the dates). I've also worked in the medical field long enough to know how much nicer it is for the nurses when a patient has all this together. In that vein, I also had my old medical records faxed over. Which, public service announcement, you should always do. ESPECIALLY in the case of going from specialist to specialist. I know people think it's not important, but a physician is much better equipped to treat you when they have medical notes of your former treatment in front of them. DO IT.

I also scheduled a haircut, a ride from the mechanic (and lunch!) and a trip to the DMV to finally get a New Orleans license. In Baton Rouge. Getting shit done. LIKE AN ADULT.

Lastly, I got some wonderful information today. Back in July, I got in a wreck (which, let me just say, if you are in the middle of ending your 3 year relationship, quitting your job, moving out of your apartment, and incredibly worried about money, don't get in a wreck. Never in my life have I wanted so much to just exit my vehicle and step into oncoming traffic.). Basically things went down as follows: I was stopped in a driving lane. To my left was a median that turned into a left turn lane (which I needed to be in and which was empty). I merged over and drove forward, not realizing that the car in front of the car I was behind was turning left (because she was not in the turn lane). She turned into my car, probably going about 10 mph, but enough to damage both cars. We pulled into a parking lot, her passenger left the scene and went to work. I got out and asked if everyone was okay (they were) and then I called the police. I was ticketed for "improper lane usage." The other driver was not ticketed, which was bullshit.

After this, we went back and forth with the insurance companies. State Farm investigated for a month (which involved me talking to 3 adjustors and an investigator) and finally decidd there was mutual fault. When this happened, the other driver decided to tell her ins. that she and her passenger had been injured. So there were more interviews (I mean, honestly? 3 months later, with no doctor notes, no ambulance at the scene and no passenger even listed on the police report because she was gone?) and State Farm shot that down. Meanwhile, I went to court for the ticket, intending to take a defensive driving course to get it removed, only to find out that the officer had never turned the ticket in. Then her ins. decided to sue State Farm for the costs of her vehicle. MORE interviewing. Today, I got a call from State Farm telling me that an independent adjustor declared mutual fault. My deductible, which was renewed in the midst of all this, will go down and State Farm is going to refund me $250 that I wouldn't have paid if this had been resolved before my renewal. My response, after hanging up, was EAT A BAG OF DICKS, YOU LYING BITCH. An. Entire. Bag.

I had my job eval today and they told me what a good job I'm doing. It kind of made me care about that job a little. Which was nice; sometimes I feel useless there because there's no challenge. But it pays the bills for my lovely little abode and my dresses and whiskey habits and the food remnants left on those plates that I need to go wash before I leave.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

"and you all want the lovely music to save your lives"

broken social scene done broke my mind.

I saw them at Pitchfork this past summer and I ALMOST didn't go to this show because I couldn't find parking at Tipitina's and the Will Call line was forever long. And some girl offered me $40 for my ticket. But I went for it and I'm so so glad. I haven't been that thrilled at a show in a very long time. I couldn't meet up with my friends so I ended up making some new ones with some dudes, when we bonded over some self-entitled bitches trying to scoot in on our space. We danced and sang and shouted song requests until we were hoarse.

When I saw BSS over the summer, they mostly played all new songs, plus "Cause = Time," "Fire Eye'd Boy," "Superconnected," and "7/4 Shoreline." They played all those this time too (Kevin Drew changed the lyrics on "Superconnected" to "and I love the darkness/it's what happened to me/I was talking about things/I could not believe" to "and I love forgiveness/it's what happened to me/I am talking about things/that I still believe."), but they added in "Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl" (I think I lost my voice screaming in glee when that happened), "Lover's Spit," "Stars and Sons" "Looks Just Like the Sun" (I was pretty surprised at how much they played off of You Forget It In People, actually), pretty much the entire Forgiveness Rock Record and, as an encore, they did "It's All Gonna Break" (which caused an immense dance party) and closed with an acoustic version of "Major Label Debut." They went over their time by almost 40 minutes and even though I've been up since 6:30 this morning, I was running on exhilaration.

amazing fucking show.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

dizzy darling

Last night, I came home and ate a piece of king cake. Then I exercised for about 30 minutes (just light stuff...some jumping jacks, jogging in place, stretches, sit ups, etc.), grabbed my books and went to the library. I don't know if exercising metabolized all that sugar extra fast or what, but when I was driving, I started feeling dizzy. By the time I got to the library, I was shaking from trying so hard to focus. I sat in the car for a bit until my vision stopped swimming, then I got out of the car. As soon as I did, I just kind of slumped against the car. A girl asked me if I was okay. She wanted to walk me in.

I got inside, went to the bathroom and threw up a bit, from the nausea-inducing dizziness. I started doing some reading afterwards and felt okay until suddenly...I remember feeling dizzy and then I remember waking up. I guess I passed out. Luckily I was in the back of the 3rd floor stacks, so no one noticed but it scared me pretty badly. I finished my chapter, drank some water and went home.

I called my mom and told her a little and she pointed out how I've been talking about being exhausted lately, even though I've been getting 7, 8, even 10 hours of sleep some days. School and work simply haven't been busy enough to justify that. I'm seeing the gyno on Friday and I plan on talking to her about the PCOS, as well as seeing if she can order some labwork. But I'm scared to drive. I'm worried that I'll pass out in class and make a spectacle of myself. I'm petrified that things have gotten really out of control somewhere along the line. And I feel bad for worrying my mom, who started saying things like "I don't want you to be on dialysis because you weren't taking your medicine. I'll help you pay for it." I don't want her to have to do that, but the reality is that I'm unsure how I'll pay for it if the costs are still what they used to be ($32/birth control + $45/byetta shot + $15/Metformin + $10/Spironolactone). But I'd rather figure out how to pay on my own then ask her for money.

Today isn't much better. I'm still...fuzzy for lack of a better word. I couldn't eat last night. I had a bit of granola this morning (homemade, so not doused with HFCS) and I'm drinking coffee (not the best idea but I'm so tired and it's better than Coke) and lots of water to try and flush my system. BSS is tonight and I'm excited to see them but that excitment is held in check by the thought that I might need to leave early or something will happen.

So basically, no more king cake for now.

always and forever

Sometimes I take the Myers-Briggs to see if my personality type has changed. But I am an INFJ forever and always.

Per Wikipedia:
I – Introversion preferred to extraversion: INFJs tend to be quiet and reserved. They generally prefer interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and they expend energy in social situations (whereas extraverts gain energy).
N – Intuition preferred to sensing: INFJs tend to be more abstract than concrete. They focus on the big picture rather than the details, and on future possibilities rather than immediate realities.
F – Feeling preferred to thinking: INFJs tend to value personal considerations above objective criteria. When making decisions, they often give more weight to social implications than to logic.
J – Judgment preferred to perception: INFJs tend to plan their activities and make decisions early. They derive a sense of control through predictability.

Characteristics of INFJs
Some practitioners have speculated that Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was an INFJ. However, according to the guidelines for the ethical use of the MBTI, only those taking the assessment can identify their own best fit.
INFJs are conscientious and value-driven. They seek meaning in relationships, ideas, and events, with an eye toward better understanding themselves and others. Using their intuitive skills, they develop a clear and confident vision, which they then set out to execute, aiming to better the lives of others. Like their INTJ counterparts, INFJs regard problems as opportunities to design and implement creative solutions.
INFJs are quiet, private individuals who prefer to exercise their influence behind the scenes. Although very independent, INFJs are intensely interested in the well-being of others. INFJs prefer one-on-one relationships to large groups. Sensitive and complex, they are adept at understanding complicated issues and driven to resolve differences in a cooperative and creative manner.
INFJs have a rich, vivid inner life, which they may be reluctant to share with those around them. Nevertheless, they are congenial in their interactions, and perceptive of the emotions of others. Generally well-liked by their peers, they may often be considered close friends and confidants by most other types. However, they are guarded in expressing their own feelings, especially to new people, and so tend to establish close relationships slowly. INFJs tend to be easily hurt, though they may not reveal this except to their closest companions. INFJs may "silently withdraw as a way of setting limits", rather than expressing their wounded feelings—a behavior that may leave others confused and upset.
INFJs tend to be sensitive, quiet leaders with a great depth of personality. They are intricately and deeply woven, mysterious, and highly complex, sometimes puzzling even to themselves. They have an orderly view toward the world, but are internally arranged in a complex way that only they can understand. Abstract in communicating, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. With a natural affinity for art, INFJs tend to be creative and easily inspired. Yet they may also do well in the sciences, aided by their intuition.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

ctrl + f

Me: I'm on the phone with my mom trying to explain to her that she doesn't need to install the internet
Erin: oh god
Me:and the person next to me is dying
because I'm in a coffeeshop
Erin: ahahha
that's awesome
Me: she's like "but how do I get to my homepage?!"
and I said "you go to the internet. that's google. you can't install google."
"but how do I get the internet?"
oh god
Me: "it's already there. click internet explorer"
and this guy next to me is shaking
poor guy
I'd be laughing too if I heard this

Friday, February 11, 2011

book of revelations

Me: just finished reading my new favorite graphic novel
and having a little mini revelation about myself
Christie: what graphic novel? and what revelation?
Me: I was reading and I stopped and started thinking about ___ a bit and I was like "I miss him" and then something sort of...seized up in me and I curled into a ball and I kept whispering "miss YOURSELF." and it was so...big. I held the bed and I almost felt like crying but it wasn't quite that. it was like having something broken inside me
but in a good way
that sounds so vague
but god, it is there.

C: oh man
i did that once
and it changed just about everything about me
it wasn't different, it was just
more me

Me: yeah
right now there is...less me. repressed me.
me under layers of rocks

Me: all I could think of is how much I used to love being alone
because there was something so intrinsically me within it
the thing I keep coming back to
is climbing in my closet with a book and a sleeping bag
I'd make a nest. sit in it, in the back of the closet
And read with a flashlight
it made me happy in a way that's hard for me to recognize as happy anymore
like I said, I almost started crying
because it was too big

C: maybe that's why we have time
so we get it little bit by bit

Me: yeah I kept thinking that
"you're young enough. you still have time. to miss yourself. and to not."

C: maybe the key to happiness...
is to make your life so that you feel like you're reading a book in the closet all the time.

Me: oh christie
it is so strange that you said that
when I was young
probably up until my teens
I used to imagine my life as a book someone was narrating
in my mind, it was a book a lady was reading to a girl, in a chair
and when I'd do bad things, even sexual things, I used to feel so much guilt that the girl would have to hear them
in a way, I suppose that woman was my image of god
but it was how I thought of my life. as both happening and performing
it's part of my obsession with performance of the self because that clicks with me
but when you said that
I haven't thought of that in years
I think I had to stop thinking about it when I started needed to give up on that idea of god for awhile
I think it's also where my need to chronicle my own life comes from

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

young liars

Well, it's cold and it's quiet, and cobblestone cold in here
Fucking for fear of not wanting to fear again
Lonely is all we are
Lovely so far, but my heart's still a marble in an empty jelly jar
Someday suppose that my curious nervousness stills into prescience, clairvoyant consciousness
I will be calmer than cream,
Making maps out of your dreams
But will psychic ability kill the nativity or simply diminish the flinch?

Sunday, February 6, 2011

everyday use

H: Are you using your boobs to keep that book open to its place while you type?

Saturday, February 5, 2011


There's a fair amount of Bad Stuff going on in my life right now. In an effort to keep that stuff on the back burner of my mind, here are my favorite things that have happened in the last few days:
-Lunch/margaritas with my mom
-Drinking, massages and pillow forts with Christie and (later) Travis
-Rocko's Modern Life at 4am
-Losing enough weight to legitimately have gone down a pant size (and buying jeans that actually fit!)
-Susan's birthday party and a bunch of people yelling "YEE HAW!" at a steakhouse
-Getting actual work accomplished on my prospectus.working bibliography for my independent study research paper, which I'm using as a research opportunity for my thesis. Additionally, firming up what I'm planning to do my thesis on.
-Cold weather (I like it, even though S. LA thinks it calls for a shutdown of all systems)
-Alone time at Highland Coffees

I keep debating the merits of writing in detail what the aforementioned Bad Stuff is. Most who read this already know, but I might elaborate for my own catharsis. In the meantime, trying to focus on the good.

Thursday, February 3, 2011


That is why those who are in ideology believe themselves to be outside of it: one of the the effects of ideology is the practical denial of the ideological character of ideology by ideology: ideology never says, "I am ideological."
-Louis Althusser, "Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses"

Double colon. Oh, he went there.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


A few other random things.

In the midst of the Althusser, I suddenly vividly remembered the first time I read this essay. It was in the coffeeshop in the LSU bookstore. I was drinking vanilla tea and scarfing a danish before class, trying to read quickly because I hadn't done the homework and Mitchie was a hardass. But I couldn't go too fast because I was fascinated by the essay, amazed with how it framed our entire way of being. Deconstruction was my introduction into my fascination with literary criticism and how it relates to our daily lives but Althusser and Foucault really cemented my desire to study it. Alyson tells me how happy I look when I leave my independent study and it's because I'm doing something that constantly challenges, amazes and fascinates me.

Nancy and I were eating lunch together yesterday and I heard someone making a odd gagging noise.
Me: Do you ever just suddenly imagine wild scenarios playing out?
N: Uh...
Me: Like, I just heard what sounded like gagging and I thought, "what would this whole cafeteria do if someone just started spewing all over the floor?"
N: Probably vomit ourselves.
Me: Gross but true.
N: Do you know why people do that? It's because when people are in groups and someone starts vomiting, our bodies immediately react to the possibility of poison being in our bodies, because groups typically used to eat the same thing.
Me: One time, I was on a school bus and I threw up scrambled eggs and we hit an incline and it slid to the back of the bus and another kid threw up as well. Everyone had to lift their feet to avoid it. Come to think of it, I had a real problem with public vomiting as a kid. I can think of at least 4 times in elementary school that I puked on myself.
N: *horrified* I'm glad you grew out of that.
Me: No, I just became a bulimic and learned to direct it!

My parents are probably divorcing soon. My dad's alcoholism seems to have gotten the best of him again. My mom is close to a nervous breakdown and every time we talk, I don't know what to say, I don't know how to help. I try to tell her about addiction, how my dad and I have the same personality when it comes to these things (something I loathe in times like these), how he's not trying to torture her, he's just so caught up in his own ideas of escape and control that he can't see beyond that. It doesn't help either of us forgive him. There's so much to unpack there...I alternate between feeling empty and feeling so full with my own emotions that I could gag.

Wise 'Wiss words: "It wasn't bullshit, you took a shot. Don't ever regret that."

"drippy streets caught me believin'"


Don't worry, I'm not too sad. It's raining and sleeting outside (the janitor called it "ice rain"), possible snow flurries but probably just ice. It got cold last night and I had gone to bed early, after an impossibly hot shower that turned my whole body bright red, that stung until the water felt cold again and my limbs tingled. I forgot to turn the heat on, woke up at 4am-ish, freezing. Grabbed a blanket off the floor, a blessing of my inability to fold laundry, and threw it over the bedcovers, then snuggled back under with Marla on my head.

Blastedly long day, but filled with plan making, too many plans maybe: a going away party, seeing 2 friends, a pub crawl, a bar. Trying to coalesce, but Friday may be a long drunk evening. Drove my carless co-worker home. She told me once that I made her day better and she cheers me up too. Home late and the neighbors wanted me to come drink but I have so much Althusser to read, BUT I want ice cream so badly, because that's what semi-sad single girls with cats do. Debated with myself on the merits of ice cream and decided "fuck it." Argyle socks with pajama pants and chucks, wearing the blanket-coat (aka, the Bloat), rolling up in Whole Foods (best B&J selection in the area), humming "Major Label Debut" to myself. I've always thought the chorus was "now I'm all/fucked/up" but it's ACTUALLY "hooked up," which I don't like as much.

Briefly considered buying vegetables to offset suspicious and obvious ice cream purchases but I have veggies at home, so I embraced the crazed, pajama-wearing ice cream buying look and strolled over to frozen foods, laughing under my breath at the image presented. 2 for $6 special on ice cream, because of course there's a sale when it's cold out. Checking out, the cashier lady laughed and said, "I always want ice cream when it's cold too. We both crazy, huh?" I agreed, because really, how was I going to say otherwise?

Home drive, listening to Thanassis Cambanis talking about Mubarack and Egyptian/Israeli relations and being somewhat unsettled at the focus on Israel in the interview (though, admittedly, missed part of it) when ought we not to be talking about about the Egyptian people?

Eating ice cream, Marla on pillow and some kidney bean and spinach stew defrosting in the sink. I hope I don't feel awful later. I lost 4 pounds...yesterday (@ Ann- after "gaining" back 3 from my initial 4 lb. loss...I think the 3 were water/bloat). Oh body, what the fuck? Putting the ice cream away now, before this gets out of hand. Back to ideological state apparatuses.


Tuesday, February 1, 2011

real love

boys make me cry and then my friends make me cry again with how awesome they are.