9.30.2008

baaaaah word puke


ok here's what's up:

this week (i know, it's only tuesday) has tried to suck as much as possible. with one exception. i have a few screws loose, apparently, and agreed to work a double tomorrow, 8am-8pm. and thursdays are always hell, with me working up front for 9 hours. plus the order didn't come in until today so tomorrow i'll probably be trying to do two jobs at once during the morning/afternoon. why, me, why?

sold my tv today. this money has to last me a while. i did crucial grocery shopping tonight that will get me through at least a week.

if any vegans read this, i have a question for you. i've been having tummy issues since going vegan, which i know is normal, but... it's mainly intense bloating and that kind of (SEXY) gas that doesn't come out, it just sits in your belly feelin' like you're pregnant with a gas baby. it's been over a month... this gets better right? cuz ow. i'm usually ok in the mornings, but come 4 o'clock i'm dyin'.

my dog also got into a fight at the dog park tonight, with another young female... i was embarrassed because she never acts like that, and it wasn't clear who started it but i think she did. the dog's owner was super chill about it. "yeah sure, just let your dog chomp on mine. s'cool." so weird.

i dunno, i feel like i haven't been doing much introspective thinking lately... sometimes that feels kinda good. not like i'm usually socrates or anything, but i try to throw some out there every once in a while.

i have been seeing some funny shit recently, though. and gossip girl was a choice episode last night.

and my sis is gonna make me some mixed cds... stoked. need new music so bad.

yeah. that's all. hopefully next week won't try to beat me down, although it'll probably be no less jarring.

9.29.2008

work was slow

so i doodled a lot. per yooj. here is one doodle, a beverage wishlist just in case someone happened upon the call center, took pity, and wanted to make me the happiest girl in the world for a couple hours.



it says 'grande 3 pump cinnamon dolce soy latte'. i forgot to write the 'decaf'. complete with giant 'yum' mug and silk in the background. i don't even drink coffee except for when i want liquid dessert.

alas, i left work beverage-less.

9.28.2008

the stuff of nightmares



it's not even october yet, and carytown is scaring the shit out of me. please note mcdonalds reflection. double fright!

how soon is now?



as my self-esteem slowly climbs, cuteness is finding its way out of the woodwork. it's fun, harmless, it will go nowhere and that's how i like it.

at the end of the day there's only one that puts a smile on my face. that's the one that's allowed to go somewhere, someday, maybe.

if they'll have me. and if i'll have them.

9.27.2008

selfishly great


wtf. went with hillary to find some stuff for her bf's bday, ended up at urban and they totally had the pants i'd been sweating FOREVER...

tried that shit on, had to get a SIZE SMALLER. what. what?!

i haven't worn this size in 5 years. sup bitches?!

also might have found a buyer for my big tv... gettin this ball rollin'.

also i decided that the dude who drives this car

should date the woman who would buy these:


i'm going to hell. and i'll probably be hangin' out with them there.

9.26.2008

30 seconds of happiness


step one: retrieve a fork.
step two: scrape fork around the inside of an almost empty peanut butter jar.
step three: pour tiny vegan chocolate chips into cap of peanut butter.
step four: roll tips of fork around in chips. eat, with optional moans of hedonistic ecstasy.

aaghghhghaghahhahahghhaghahhahahghhhh

things i'm not

i'm not:

-in danger
-starving
-alone

i have:

-shelter
-food
-clothing
-people who care about me

sometimes it's good to remind myself of these things, especially in economically unstable times like these. what matters are things we overlook. we're so used to being a privileged country that we think we're owed said privilege. nah. we ain't.

i wonder who decides what life we get when we're born. some theories are that we decide before we're born, others say god does. still others think it's random. and why? what lessons is a starving congo child who only lives to 5 years old supposed to learn? or are others around her supposed to learn something from her and that's why she came into the world for such a short time?

me and everyone i know, we have everything. compared to most people, we're filthy rich. my $20 (that i wonder how i can stretch for two weeks) could keep someone alive for 2 months. it's our job as americans not to be callous and greedy(per usual), but humble, aware and conserving. our leaders haven't encouraged these traits in us, but that's no excuse. since when has it been a good idea to live how our leaders dictate, anyway? LBH.

the news is nonstop with the financial crisis, and for what? i think it's a good thing to take us americans down a big fat notch. i say this as someone who has already been directly affected by the plummeting economy. i'm not saying it will be easy, it already isn't. but if everything were easy, life wouldn't be worth living. we're used to a gross standard of living, and i include anyone who can afford a car, afford to eat out, anything like that. country-wide turmoil changes the way we operate. some people panic, some people embrace what they still have. what matters. fyi... money is not it.

i am already a better person from this. my priorities have shifted in a way that i can be more confident and proud in the way that i live, knowing that i am living more humbly. i am not perfect and have more work to do, and sometimes i still get upset that i'm not doing enough, but it's an uphill road who's destination will be worth the struggle. my struggle is nothing. i draw inspiration from those who accomplish more than me in one day while on their deathbed, diseased, impoverished, forced to do unthinkable things just to survive.

9.24.2008

weeeemo playlist

- frazey ford - "in my time of dying" (acoustic version)
- badly drawn boy - "stone on the water"
- nirvana - "man who sold the world"
- yo la tengo - "tears are in your eyes"
- aimee mann - "you could make a killing"
- neil young - "the needle and the damage done"
- aqualung - "tongue-tied"
- cat power - "the greatest"
- counting crows - "colorblind"
- joy division - "love will tear us apart"
- neko case - "favorite"
- radiohead - "reminder"
- death cab for cutie - "a lack of color"
- simple minds - "don't you forget about me"
- elliott smith - "needle in the hay"
- portishead - "roads"
- hot snakes - "suicide invoice"
- calexico with iron and wine - "he lays in the reins"
- jeff buckley - "lover, you should have come over"
- nancy sinatra - "bang, bang"
- william elliott whitmore - "diggin' my grave"
- elliott smith - "everything reminds me of her"
- XTC - "dear god"
- the get up kids - "like a man possessed"

9.23.2008

nice

people come up with amazing things. for the man (or woman, hey i don't judge) who doesn't have a gf/bf to help him out with his unsightly and hard-to-reach body hair, some genius created this:



the "man groomer". pret-ty cool.

i bet they fly off the shelves! i'm glad my quest for biodegradable dog poop bags proved entertaining.

9.22.2008

my pedestal symbol.

i deleted this post. sorry to the one person who was looking forward to reading it.

someday i'll learn to treat myself okay. until then i will be driven by all that needs changing.
i also finally bought toothpaste.

i've always been a dreamer. it's time for me realize i'm the only one who can pull myself out of the clouds.

9.21.2008

sunday at BG

hillary and i went to busch gardens today, provided free of charge to us by her work. we got there for the free lunch, spent the day and stayed a bit for howl-o-scream. some highlights:

"redneck's 12 step program"


childen of the necky corn.


twinsies!


ok i know you can't tell, but this was a super cute old couple holding hands. mm hmm.


"the forbidden fruit tastes sweetest"


having never had a candy apple before... they're delicious!


FATTIE DELICIOUS


unwanted caramel poop.


diabetes? SURE


always a bad sign.

met up with some friends for howl-o-scream, which i'd never done before... it was pretty cool. apparently i really don't scare as easily as i thought, i didn't jump once. yeah. i'm badass.

9.19.2008

sorry.


if time wasting is what you're looking for, you've come to the right place.

and, lbh, nobody reads this blog anyway.

so i went out last night, met people, went to a show, then to ipanema, and it was all fine and good. but i was feeling kind of ill the whole time, and then when i got home i felt REALLY ill. i called in sick to work, which i really cannot afford to do. then i slept too much and now i have that slept-too-much depression. i feel so terrible that i don't see how things could be better.

it's ridiculous, i know, because i really don't have it that bad, but i'm so used to things going better that it's freaking me out.

i just, i have no money. and i have no idea how i'm going to make things work out. i cannot afford the rent here. i need something cheap, i need to live with other people. having the cats and dog makes it difficult. my dad can't take care of my cats, and my mom is thinking about moving back to rva, but i'm not sure if she'd be willing to take care of them. she probably wouldn't be back for a while anyway.

i'm starting to feel panicky. pessimism is getting the best of me. today could have been a great day, and i didn't let it. i felt incredibly guilty about calling in sick. my place is a wreck, i don't feel like cleaning. i think i'm going to have to sell all my furniture. i wish someone could envelope me in a cuccoon-like embrace and make me forget it all. but oh yeah, i'm alone too.

cool.

bad sign?

just walked by this house on floyd:

9.18.2008

i just realized


how poor i am.

i honestly don't know how i'm going to get through the month.
i think i need another job. i really didn't want to go back to that.

have i mentioned how much i hate money?

my doggie loves me

whenever i'm in a rush, that's when she doesn't wanna poo.

today we walked three blocks before she finally went, and went in a way that could only be a personal vendetta against me:

she crawled around as she ejected the most sticky gelatinous matter i've ever seen, spreading it around the nicest lawn on the block. thus leaving me, in my 'nice' work clothes and a half ripped plastic bag (it was the only one i had, of course) trying to scrape it up. anyone who has a dog knows this is virtually impossible and you end up with 1/3 poop in and around the bag, and 2/3 smeared in a 2 foot section of grass. then i try to scoot her along to avoid being seen by the poor schmuck who's dumb lawn just got fertilized.

now that's how i wanna start my 10 hour work day! thanks buddy.

9.17.2008

tiny little inflatable chest.

lately i've been thinking that i am not one of those people things 'happen' to. i didn't think of myself as one who has specific experiences worth describing.

well today, that's not true!

i was walking zoe, and i saw a flapping on the ground. i stop, look around confusedly while a car slowly drives by and the driver looks confusedly at me looking confused. i turn around and crouch down to see the tiniest bird, breathing so fast you'd think i was norman bates. it's leg was twisted unnaturally below its body... it looked scared.

i stared at it for five minutes, rapidly going over scenarios in my head. do i leave it and wonder how it lived out the rest of its short life, feeling massively guilty? do i take it to cary st emergency hospital and have them look at me like i'm retarded for bringing in a common bird?

it's rare that you get to see a bird that close up. it's teeny tiny fuzzy feathers and throbbing of its chest destroyed me. i didn't care if i got laughed at, i had to do something. i went to pick it up, and as soon as it was entirely in my hand, it flew up and away over a fence, about 20 feet from me. it tried to land on a branch. failed. it tried to land again, and failed. it fell.

at least it's no longer in an alley but in someone's nice back yard.

i feel humbled. the image and feeling of its tiny skeleton and pumping chest are imprinted in my mind. i wish it didn't have to suffer. mortality is a sobering thing.

9.16.2008

i'll mark the door with a ruler and pencil.


growing up, my sister and i were assured that we would always be financially comfortable. if nothing else was certain (which at times many things weren't) we could depend on the money. our money went back a few generations, before which my mother's side of the family had been printers in richmond. one of my ancestors even printed for edgar allen poe, and a gift he had given my ancestor is in the poe museum now (fun fact of the evening).

so my mother raised us with music lessons, ballet, horse back riding, art lessons, all kinds of crap. which was great and i was a very very lucky kid. i was in public school, i did homeschool, i did private school. we had options, because there was enough money to do things like that. i also just wanted to be normal, and having some money definitely made me stand out sometimes, which i hated. i felt i was awkward and weird enough as it was, i didn't need people being jealous of my drawing ability, which i couldn't hide (and it was the one thing i have always felt confident about), AND the fact that my mom would randomly bring fancy boxed lunches from sally belle's just for me and my sister to fox elementary. she would give me obscene amounts of spending money for trips. i was a kid, i had no idea what was appropriate, and who says no to free money?

of course, the money didn't make up for the verbally abusive episodes and three day long bedroom retreats. or leaving your 17 year old daughter on the other side of the country because you've decided you're 'done' being a parent. reason number one of why i hate money: using it to try and appease guilt. money as supplemental parenting... twisted.

as much as i've struggled to learn how to be financially independent, i have looked forward to getting out from under my mother's financial wing for a long time... yet simultaneously reminding myself to be grateful that i was provided for. that said, my mom had some very strange manipulative ways to remind me of it. she was always a fan of buying me something inappropriate without me asking for it, and then using it against me later, calling me selfish and ungrateful.

where is the line between the idea that one's offspring behaves how it does because YOU raised her that way, and the idea that once old enough, said offspring is responsible for her behavior and cannot default to blaming the parent? my mother had a big hand in my personal growth, and as thoughtful and responsible as i have always tried to be, i cannot help but think that she was the one who encouraged any brattiness in me to grow. it's like growing a plant, watering and fertilizing, and then chopping it off at the root once it buds.

i am VERY self conscious about having grown up with privilege. and i'm not saying we were rich; i guess there were a few years that by america's standards we would be classified as upper middle class. i always tried to play it off the 'right' way; that is, i never wanted to brag or act haughty, but then again if you totally ignored your privilege, people think you're ungrateful and undeserving. many times i just tried to be quiet and mutter 'yeah, i am lucky'. either way, i felt isolated.

but i was sooo lucky. i had many things people don't have. sure, i was lonely... but you can't have everything, right?

i've been thinking about this a lot because my mother pretty much lost all that was left of the money yesterday. now she has to provide for herself for the first time. ever. it's kind of an intense situation. it just so happened that i had recently been liberated from her support already, which is good and i knew that it would happen once i finished school anyway. so for me it works out okay, but i am very interested to see how her life unfolds in the next few years. this totally changes her life. i will be there for her, but i also refuse to see her as a victim, seeing how she could have made a few different decisions that would have made this much easier on everyone.

what gets me is this: when someone tells you a part of your life will be stable and comfortable forever, you believe it. then when it's become apparent that they squandered it and then due to plummeting stocks what little was left is now gone as well, well it's a fascinating feeling. i don't give a shit about the actual money. i hate money, life sucks if you have too little, life sucks if you have too much, and i resent the idea that something inanimate can affect your entire being and daily life. and yes, i realize the irony of this coming from someone who never had an unsatisfied material desire growing up, really i do. i'm a prick, it's fine, you can think that. but you cannot deny the truth about money. less or more, it difficults. money makes difficult a verb.

the point is, i am pissed that my mother gave us false confidence in something unstable. she was the adult, she is smart enough to know that the money was not entirely reliable. plus, she never made a true effort to rescue her promise once it started to become clear that it was one she couldn't keep. she just kept spending. i can't believe she didn't have the forethought to tack on at least a little warning. once she realized everything was dwindling, didn't she wonder what would happen? her work paralysis (something the bitter daughter in me feels is a very selfish problem to have) kept her from keeping her promise to us. many of her typical days involved her having a headache/sleeping all day/meditating and going to the spa. and something was always wrong, despite her languid days. no wonder katia and i throw ourselves into work and often go overboard. we knew this was something we had to learn, a weakness we refused to develop.

i have and always will hate money. it's just a means to an end, many endings for which i have no use, really. money turns people into monsters and rips families apart. i will stand by my mother and encourage her as she embarks into the working world for real, for the first time, at 51 years of age. i feel for her because she's probably scared shitless. i know she has no concept of how this has upset me and my sister, how we feel she betrayed us. she is yet again far too wrapped up in her own situation to consider that. but what's going to happen now, when she can't ease her conscience by tossing a few bills out at us? time to face the music, mom.

cutest animal ever


i actually remembered one of my dreams last night. check it:

my friend will and i were at this strange little outdoor party thing... it was more like a teeny tiny fair in the forest but with no rides. yeah i dunno. then we were about to leave, and apparently in order to do that you had to walk over what appeared to be a combination of a creek and train tracks. there were three preppy sorority type girls in front of us, and one ended up getting running over by a train. even though i don't remember feeling the bigness of a train being near us. we also reacted to it in a very matter of fact, calm sort of way.

so as we were leaving, the path turned on itself and we could see the area where we had been, now deserted by all the other people. i thought i saw what looked like a raccoon, and for some reason thought it was a good idea to go back and investigate. as we neared the area, i saw a full grown penguin enter the clearing. it didn't see us, and waddled away, complete with tiny babies wobbling behind it.

one tiny baby had lost the group, and i found it and picked it up. upon inspection it turned out to be half penguin, half koala! what?! amazing. it made me melt.

i was holding it, and then the dream gets a little fuzzy (no pun intended)... i remember feeling that the mama penguin/koala could/was getting territorial... but i felt so happy looking into the little bebeh's face.

then i think i was at walmart. ugh.

then i was somehow taking a very awkward platonic shower with a co-worker of mine (who i am in no way attracted to) and for some reason i felt she was judging my nipples. which is weird because i had really never thought about them before, and in the dream hers were actually weird.

wtf.

penguin koala baby!!!

c'mon


life. is this all you've got? buh-ring it. night night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

9.15.2008

post script


as of today, my family's money is gone.

speak entirely in slang


i think life right now, for me, is about learning to wait.

i'm waiting... but i think the point is to live without waiting... that is, enjoy what's going on right now without projecting my mind purely into the future.

i've wound this web of circumstances; a plan to get me on track, a path to 'happiness'. whatever the hell that is. it all depends on the first step that leads me to the rest, and obviously if i fail at the first step, my life is OVER. that's the skewed way that i've seen it. i know it's ridiculous, but i feel life in extremes.

things i want, don't have, and will take a while to get:
-moving
-being unbroke
-losing all the weight

one path: if i can't get in perfect physical shape, then my self-confidence will never be healthy, which means i'll never have the balls to talk to people i'm interested in, because obviously they'll reject me. and what's the big deal about rejection? it's humiliating and i always assume it's because of my weight. because let's face it, weight WILL make many people reject you. few people are willing to look past it. and fuck, i'm one of them. i want someone attractive too. i'm tired of living like a hypocrite. i can go on for days bitching about the shallowness of people, but we're ALL shallow. we all like what we like. until i become someone i like, i don't think anyone will like me... and while i don't like myself, it will show through my actions. and someone liking me should NEVER be the goal of self-improvement. i'm a number one advocate for learning how to be single and happy. being single can be the greatest thing ever. i'm fucked up.

i wish i didn't give a fuck... but you know, if i didn't i probably would have been skinny this whole damn time. it's because i cared too much that i went overboard. it's fucking gross and the world sucks sometimes, but that's the way it is. some cutthroat shit that you just can't think too hard about or you end up like me, embittered and jaded.

some overweight people are still beautiful, but the looks that i was born with don't allow for that. regarding my looks, i get the compliment 'striking', not 'pretty'. because i'm not. and i don't want to be conventionally pretty. how convenient.

so can you base happiness on an ideal weight? of course not. but it is a reflection of how much you respect yourself. and i know i talk about self respect a lot, because it's something i haven't had a lot of, and i know it's important to have a solid core, a caring faith to drive you.

i should dismantle my plan, and all the steps. i need to convince myself that there are plenty of things to live for now, rather than putting my life on hold until i've decided i deserve it. this isn't to say i'm not going to go through with the steps, just that i need to try and let it flow organically and not expect it all to unfold in the methodical manner i think of in my head.

life is stupid and amazing. i need to shoot the veruca salt in me.

9.14.2008

she shows in mysterious ways.


september, 1998: i am an eighth grader at robious middle school. it's the last year of middle school, but the first time i had been in one. my mother had moved us to a house who's property line between richmond and chesterfield went down the middle of our yard specifically so i could attend robious.

i am the antithesis of the ideal robious student. a few weeks prior to starting school, my sister and my boyfriend had taken pinking shears to my hair, followed by his hair clippers. i had had a field day with a pair of tweezers and i had too much angst to bother with food. i wore one black v-neck knit 3/4 sleeve shirt, faded from wear. jeans. dr. martens. chain link necklace. skull ring. my sister always pounced at any opportunity to make me her personal doll, resulting in a heinous betty page hairdo at 11 and a carrot-orange jaw length frizzy bob at 12.

my appearance and general expression of doom plastered on my face granted me some fascinating experiences, complete with nicknames. one day i was a goth who was going to die from cancer, the next i am a huge dyke who moved here from canada. you know those crazy 13 year old canadian dykes, they're taking over america!

one girl got very stressed by my 'situation'. i found a note in my locker, a letter really, professing her willingness to help me find god. she penned this letter complete with the repeated botched spelling of 'bibble'. she wanted me to attend bibble school with her so that i may be saved from my miserable godless existence.

i wonder if this girl had told her family about me and they recommended this outreach, or if she had committed this act of charity on her own. this girl had never spoken to me and we had no classes together. i know it was just eighth grade, but it still amazes me how much people determine from looks alone. she had no idea what was going on at my house. i could have been beaten, i could have lost a loved one, i could be sharing a room with four other siblings in a one bedroom house with nothing to eat, i could have a fatal disease. i could have even been seeking solace through the same god she calls on, for all she knows. in reality, i had a selfish, sexually graphic mother who used money to make up for her failings at parenting, a father who's ability to function in the world was starting to disintegrate and thus tried to tighten his hold on his children, and myself, who's freakishly early puberty had convinced me i was the ugliest, most awkward waste of space that ever existed. there was a semblance of faith/spirituality in me at the time, but my teen years were not about to let me explore it. i had the freedom to do whatever i wanted with my appearance, thus reflecting my state of mind to a t.

it's disgusting to form conclusions about personal opinions and faith on appearance alone. i read the letter, spelling errors spoken phonetically, to my mother and sister, who promptly picked the girl and her letter apart. i wholeheartedly joined in with my family, because this was one part of my life i knew how to blend into. i saw the unfairness of picking on her, but was so frustrated by the unfair judgments made about me that i didn't care. it felt good for my family to assure me that she was in fact the crazy one, not me. after all, i spent 8 hours a day in a place where i felt picked apart. all eyes criticized. a place where my art teacher snubbed me because she was jealous of my artistic ability. even if i did something right, it was apparently so right it was wrong. i was never meant to fit in. and i never have.

bibble girl and i were probably more similar than anyone else in that school. both social outcasts, perceived as freaks. the difference between me and her was that she used her inherited beliefs to try and (albeit misguidedly) help, whereas i used my inherited beliefs to hurt. who really takes the high road here?

i only spent one semester at robious, and i did make one (atheist) friend who i am still vaguely friends with now. i finished the year doing 'homeschool'... i.e. nursing my teenage depression before heading to open high the next year.

since then, we've all learned how to create our appearances to reflect our beliefs and moods. some of us think really hard about how to do that, to others it comes more naturally. it doesn't really matter what you do, because you'll always be judged. no matter how polite someone is, there is always the insecure teen somewhere in there, picking you apart before you can get to them. the difference between then and now? i used to care. now i still care, and it's bullshit if anyone ever says they don't. but now i know that what i'm projecting is really me. judge all you want.

i hope bibble girl has found herself, whether that includes god or not. she didn't help me the way she intended, but all was not lost.

putting the 'grit' in 'integrity'


man, this blog is a total snoozefest. let's remedy this situation.

quick personal update since may:

-zoe fucked a lot of my shit up, but it's cool now. she's house trained and crate trained, also much less anxious.
-i'm vegan
-i no longer drink (i barely did before, so it's really not a stretch) and in terms of substances one could call me straight edge, but i will not label myself as such for a few reasons.
-i've lost 25 pounds (30 more to go, hoping to hit that shit by my birthday)

i have a few out-of-town friends who read this who wouldn't know those things and may be interested.

so i've obviously made some pretty big diet changes, and it really wasn't because of any people i know. i was already surrounded by many vegans and a fair amount of straight edgers. i don't know exactly what did it (besides that fucking documentary earthlings, nice lighthearted viewing pleasure!) except me realizing i needed to do myself and the world a favor and stop treating everything like shit. it was holding me back and obviously i was throwing my inner chaos out into the world. what right do i have to do that? it's up to us to reduce our footprints, carbon and non... we sure do have some egos in us, us humans, huh?

i really wanted to write about something else in this post, but i feel that it would be a jolt to change subject suddenly. i'll just post a separate one.