octopus octopus

(no subject)

I was recently admonished for forgetting about my Livejournal. Hello, world.

I work a lot and procrastinate more. I'm applying for grants when I can figure out how to blow away the self-loathing smog that chokes me all the time. Last night, my mom and her friend watched Make Way For Tomorrow and are still bitching about the sad ending. I'm starting jiu-jitsu on Monday. I had a gory nightmare last night involving the wheelchair guy from Glee, a drive-in movie involving talking bears and Magritte-esque guys in suits, vomit the color of a lunar eclipse and hundred-dollar bills. Merry goddamn Christmas.

How are you?
  • Current Music
    "angelina jolie" - edie sedgwick
vagina dentata!

to the fight.

Time to start treating necessity like a myth.

Any physical addiction I ever had started with the mistaken idea that I "needed" said Substance to be social, to write, to sleep, and so on. I was fat because I thought I was too out-of-shape to exercise. I go crazy after relationships end (or change) because I convinced myself that I needed said person to be happy. Bollocks. I just liked the person, the stagnancy, the Substance an awful lot. Parties are more fun when you're drunk, that's just the truth. But nobody ever died of boredom or unadulterated disgust.

I want to perform poems like Ian Curtis sang: gradually losing composure.

  • Current Music
    atrocity exhibition
octopus octopus

bridget jones warning.

I just looked at a few pictures of David and I from when we were in Arizona, and some of me at IWPS. I never realized quite how closely I resembled Velma from Scooby-Doo, or exactly how many chins I had.

I guess this is just to say that I've lost 45 pounds since my first Nationals, mostly just by not drinking myself to death quite so often and learning to love getting my ass kicked. Here's to 45 more, and to mastering the spinning elbow strike and the left hook takedown.
  • Current Music
    adam's crazy sitar music
here i come to save the day


For this journal:
I write like
Vladimir Nabokov

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

For "The Sorrows of the Tin Woodman":
I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

For an unidentified four-man Santa Cruz team piece, and also "An Evening At Home With the Creator of Girls Gone Wild":
I write like
James Joyce

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

  • Current Music
    the wishmaster
octopus octopus

(no subject)

Today I am grateful that Nirvana chose to cover the Meat Puppets' songs "Plateau" and "Lake of Fire," and that I've got the ears to hear them.

Also for the one percent of the time when mainstream, overproduced, bitches-and-Benjamins-type hip-hop somehow sounds like something transcendent (and here, yes, I acknowledge my identity as a white girl who listens to Nirvana and has no real understanding of bitches or Benjamins), and for groups of small, excitable Asian children in tiny khakis and polo shirts.
  • Current Music
    jesus doesn't want me for a sunbeam
death at sunrise.

doused in mud, soaked in bleach.

I haven't been writing here because I've been busy forgetting the words to my own opera. I am in here. I am in here. I swear. I am just frustrated by communication in general, maybe.

Sometimes I act like a jerk and I don't know why.

I think I'm going to tour the East Coast, or maybe just New England, by myself, in the winter. When there's snow. I'd like to see you.

From now on I am going to post something I am grateful for every day. Today I am grateful for not having been born a rich and horse-faced widow, or a character in a Sam Raimi film. And for having the foresight not to screw over sketchy old ladies with heavy accents and strange eyes.
  • Current Music
prom queen!


Here are some things I like about Oklahoma:

It is so flat I can almost see Kansas.

The coffee shop across the street from ratpackslim's pad is decidedly and entirely My Kind Of Place. It's like Perg, but with better sandwiches, better coffee and much less douchebaggery. And cleaner.

The hippie-ass "social space" the Encyclopedia Show was in also reminded me of everything I like about Santa Cruz.

Every Saturday at noon they test a tornado alarm. The sound of it is somehow both urgent and kind of pleasant. The fact of it gives the whole place an edge-of-the-apocalypse kind of feel.

They serve their (good) beer in mugs the size of frickin' buckets.

It's been muggy, but not humid enough to be scraping-off-my-skin unpleasant. It's the kind of mugginess that would be perfect and amazing if there were fireflies.

The possibility of seeing a real live tornado!

I like every single person I have met or hung out with here.

OH YEAH, and the aforementioned buckets o'beer were consumed at a bar with a jukebox that contained my Number One jam and also my other Number One jam.

I want to visit every red state in the whole god damned nation. I want to see exactly what it is people in Santa Cruz look down their noses at, cause this place has been nothing but kind to me. I think one of these days I'm going to get one of those Greyhound "discovery passes" and do a bit of a poetry tour/excuse to go everywhere nobody takes vacations and see everything nobody writes articles about. Just me this time, with two suitcases, a shitty webcam, and a bottle of bad whiskey concealed in a bag that has three Xs on it.

Holler if I can come and visit you. I promise to share my liquor.
  • Current Music
    coffee shop funky jamzzz