When I stepped onto the porch this morning I was overwhelmed by the sunset. I got my camera and filmed it . Nice mellow footage (very different from a snow storm). I'm having trouble writing right now because school was cancelled for my niece, Kiah. She is here beside me. I've been trying to remove a splinter from her foot but she keeps on wiggling and screaming like a banshee so I can't get it. I've taught her the word cyborg so she keeps getting wires wrapped around her and saying "look Robin I'm a cyborg."
I guess the day is better. I was melancholy this morning after I got Kiah ready for school and her and Daddy left. That's when I went out and filmed the sunset. I was logging the footage when they came back saying it's presidents day or some shit. Looks like an easy day. I reckon I'll get to looking for a job tomorrow. Today Kiah and me are going to paint.

Ok, so I've just read this entry again and I fucked up twice. It was in fact a sunrise. That is why the vivid colors were so freaky, usually we only get that neon pink during sunsets. Those of you who know how I generally keep a fucked up schedule may have a better understanding of my confusion with sunset/sunrise. Paul, since that IM session last night I've been awake. I hope you enjoy the replica of my animals in the video. I assure you can't be allergic from such a distance.





Kiah looks a lot like her Daddy's side of the family but she has eyes just like my Mama.

When I spent a month in North Carolina last June I had the pleasure of meeting a young lady who pleaded with me to stay in the south. Her argument was that the south always loses the best southerners. Reading Ih8gates little commentary seems to make her argument valid. If Ih8gates is concerned about racism in the south without actually living there anymore how is he helping to solve the problem? Is the best solution to leave the "racist" south for the "socially stratified" north?

My plan for the next couple of weeks... get a shit job in Atlanta... waiting tables or whatever... get an apartment there... apply for some jobs i'd actually like to do and wait forever to hear about them. Yeah, I miss Buffalo...


Here is a nice link to an essay on southern identity

I couldn't resist. I've put my dog on puppy war. This will be her link if they approve her . I've realized that I should never become a parent becuase my children may end up like this . Tragedy for all.

Now I'm safe on the couch at Mama and Daddy's. I went out to a joint called "Run around Sue's" earlier tonight. This wasn't the wisest decision when you consider I've had a terrible cold for 2 days and I've been sleeping all the time and drinking poison cherry medicine but I got antsy and needed to go out. I was in the company of my sister and yes... she chose the venue.
I was the DD so I agreed to minimized my drinks.
On the way there my sister, Lori Anne, told me I would have to pay the valet. considering it's been well over a month since I've actually "made money," this prospect fazed me enough to ask "why don't we just park on the street?" at which point Lori Anne related to me the following story.

Run Around Sue's became a little strict about their parking after an accident a few years ago. Some man got into the car with his friend and drove them home. Both men were wasted and the passenger had to lean out thee window and vomit. They happened to drive by one those big wires that hold up telephone poles. At that point the passenger was decapitated while ralphing. The driver was to drunk to notice and went on home. He went into his house and passed out. The following morning his neighbors found his friend's decapitated corpse in his car.

That story is how the evening started. It was probably the most interesting part. Running into some other adairsvillians was the other interesting part. My sisters spotting, hunting, and gathering a young handsome north african guy was amusing for her drunk ass but kind of boring for me.

my older sister, Lori, has always been a champ at finding stray or unwanted animals and bringing them home with her. then she promptly hands over the responsibility of caring for them to someone else. my mom is out of the picture with that because she's always detested animals (in the house especially) my dad on the other hand loves all animals but dogs are his favorite. me, well, i love cats the most especially kittens.
Lori's find today was a four month old puppy dog named Chelsea. I have to admit. I already love Chelsea. So does my dad. We are even going to try to keep her as an inside, defying the tyranny that is my mother. This usually will last no longer than a month before my mom wins out. I did manage to have a house cat once but because I'm only a temporary resident in this house I'm not sure if I can win out this time. Robin beats Mom but Mom beats Dad (nothing physical of course).
so yeah...
just look at this cutie.

I'm back in Georgia. I've been here 3 days. It's pretty much the same. My Daddy got rid of the dog that bit me and got himself a new red coon dog. I like this dog better. There is a new cat that comes up onto the porch at night. He's a solid black tomcat that my niece named Pudding. I'm trying to get my bearings. All the moving around in the past 3 months has gotten me a little mixed up.
My last night in Portland I drank half a bottle of Stolis and went to "the bitter" where two of the boys I'd met gave one last attempt to fuck me. One of them was a total creep. The other was a sweet little boy who I just may have given the chance if I hadn't been so drunk. I ended up leaving the bar alone and walking to the store to get smokes. Once I left the store I started sobbing, loudly, all the way home. It's was weird. I've never walked down the street weeping so loudly.
I was worried about leaving Courtney there so far from her family with all these drunken losers, not that there is anything wrong with drunkenness. It's the loser part that bothers me. My Granny always had a couple sayings. One was "You are who you hang around with" and another was "Always be aware of your surroundings." My Mawmaw has a saying "A whistling woman and a cackling hen both come to no good in the end." I can't forget.
Now I'm here in the office, slowly trying to get my shit together. I went out a took a few photos. I'm sure more will come later. There are a few great things about being here, like the use of my Mama's digital camera and the sunny blue sky. It's also good to have food again. I lost 10 lbs in Portland. Granted I still weigh 128 lbs and my
Mama teases me saying she never weighed so much when she was single but I tell her I'd rather be a little fat and eat the foods I like than be skinny and deprived. Then my Dad chimes in telling me I'm going to be diabetic if I don't watch it.

I used to date this guy who had a scar on his thigh, right beside his genitals. He'd had the scar since childhood and didn't know where it came from but he was to embarrassed to ask his parents. What if he was lying to me. Maybe he was a hermaphrodite at birth (he is kind of pretty). Maybe he was burned badly and had skin from his thigh removed to his arms, maybe he had an accident on a pogo stick. I'd die of curiosity if I had a mystery scar in such an intimate space.

I've been reading Kathy Acker. She's seems to be a lunatic writer but at least she understands the dilemma of being a woman who wants to get what she wants.

oh my god! I hate PCs.
A woman gave me a free small latte with a double shot of espresso and an oatmeal cookie. That made me feel better than anything else all night/day. I mean the 4 dollars is kind of meaningless. It was just a sweet thing for a stranger to do.

I'm annoyed with courtney because she always goes out with these people who work at the bitter end pub but doesn't invite me along because the "after hours" places are for special people and in their eyes I'm not. When I was 8 years old I played softball. After a game one day I went to the pizza place with my Mama. There was my whole team celebrating the birthday of one of my teammates, Melissa. She was teribbly embarassed to see me there and came up and said her Mama would only let her invite so many people. Suprisingly enough Courtney and Melissa were friends. What is it with cliques? I'm 25 years old for christ's sake and totally wealthy in cultural capital but these bitter barflies sure don't give a shit. It hurts to be excluded but makes my parent's couch look that much better. What I really want is to go back to New York state where "after hours" is neverever at 2 in the morning. (WIKIPEDIA - last call) but hey in Neveda there is no closing time Berlin to for that matter.

I have a bizzarre sleeping pattern. I woke up at 1 am last night and have been awake since. I went to buy a pack of smokes, called Courtney a million times and she didn't answer. Which was unfortunate because that meant I was locked out. I went to "the bitter" around 1:50 and they had already locked the doors. I saw a bunch of Courtney's bar friends and got them to open the door and one of them said Courtney was with Rose(a young blonde bartender with a harsh mouth and sullen demeanor) so the guy called Rose and she amazingly enough answered her phone. She said something bitchy that I didn't hear but could see on the guys face. Then he hung up told me where they were and said Courteny would call me.

I started waking downtown toward the strip club where "after hours" is held. Courtney called and said that she would leave the keys with the bouncer. I told her I'd appriciate that and hung up. Then she called back and said she'd come out. I walked down one street too far and there were all these bums around. One man started walking with me but stopped after I told him where I was going. One woman asked for some money after I told her good evening.

Then I passed by a fierce looking woman with GIANT saggy boobs. She was standing by a man. As is customary with me I glanced in her eyes as I passed by. I realized I'd walked to far and turned around. Then boobs woman started talking shit to me about how I was after her man. She threaned to punch me. I walked away and she walked behind me (to close) telling me to wait. I've been mugged before and I knew this woman was the same kind of crazy. I started running and screaming "leave me alone you crazy bitch." She laughed at me but didn't follow (like her fat ass could have caught up with me.) Then the woman I passed eairlerr asked if boobs was going on about her man again and said "come here honey" but I kept walking.

I found the place and there were two people who I'd just seen 15 minutes eairler at "the bitter." thanks for the ride assholes! Some singer named Risky was there. I'd met him before and I liked him but I was in a freaked out pissed off mood by then so his "calm down everything is great" bullshit only served to make me more annoyed. Although i tried to mask it. Courtney came out and gave me the keys, acting all lovely wanting a kiss but I've got to tell ya. all I could think about how gracious Anna Lavatelli seems compared with Courtney. It's not fair to compare subjective beings but I can't help it sometimes. So I walked to Roxy's diner glowering and feeling sorry for my lonely self.

Then at the diner some guy came up to me and told me "you've got great hair" and asked where I get it done. He told me to come sit with him if I wanted to have a converrsation. I was in a pissy mood and told him I needed to think about things. I played the addams family theme song and thought about how i miss Dr. Know. Then I went back to the apartemnt and started watching a shitty movie. Courtney showed up with Adam, the 22 yr old barback from "the bitter" in tow.

They sat there and played chess untill 6 in the morning. Adam is a mumbler. His voice reminds me of Keith Hesson but he does not have any of Keith's necked dance party charisma. There will be no tricking Harrington into sniffing Adam's necked balls.

On a happier note. Last week Arzu sent me a picture from a year or so ago. It's me, her, Tony and Joe Gibbon's at the Lenox Hotel painting with gun powder.

i read a book last night titled Lizard Club. It was about a homosaurian that had a problem with eating the boys he made love to. i was sucked in by the name dropping on the back cover, John Waters and Kenneth Anger are idols of mine. I'm not sure why I love gay men but i do, both friends and celebrities. I love them, god no, not all gay men but their stats average out higher than straight guys on my scale of love and admiration.

I've got a ticket to fly this Friday. please dear god don't let me be stuck in Georgia forever! my entire family lives there. my sister lives with my parents. my brother built his house practically in their back yard. lots of family. mawmaw lives a 5 minute walk down the road. a little ways on out you'll find various aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins and so on. we are a tribal people in northwest Georgia.

wow. I'm excited to enjoy my last few days of freedom before bitter reality sets in through day in and day out parental bitching. i'm too old for that shit. Liz and Arzu tried to get me out of it but there are some things in this life people gotta face. i wish I had a horse and I'd ride off into the bathwater.

this Saturday is big D's birthday. shit, some yuppie bitch is walking around on her cellphone. i'm in a coffee shop/retail store. i read that aloud as i typed it and she left, hahaha.
so big-D's birthday.

When I was 14 I used to sneak out of my house at 1 in the morning to hang around with big D, Slim and Beeker. I'd drink wine coolers and later the beast. Sometimes we would go to the super wal-mart and be followed around by the employees. no pano's in Adairsville. i wonder if I've written about the cow suit story on this journal. I'm sure I must have. I'll look it up.... ah hell, i can't find anything but i'll tell you it has to do with a stuck Monte Carlo and a spirit walker who was this redneck who must have been on PCP.

I'm feeling better. I can't wait to see my Mawmaw, surely you can tell by my user pic what a sweetie she is. I told her I had the luck of the Irish because I always find four-leave clovers and not to worry about me. she told me yeah, her Mama always said we were black Irish. I told that to Courtney and Courtney said the Irish were called that because they fled from the Black Famine to the States but I like to think of it in Hakim Bey terms and imagiane that I have some distant ancestors who were all about Islam on that fucked up green lil island.

Yawl go to church this mornin'?

Everything sucks. I want to be at that god damn house warming party sooooooooooooo bad although I'm skeptical if people could hang with a nocturnal one like myself. Last stripper party I went to one of my favorites was incapacitated on the stairwell by the time I arrived.

Lord knows I ain't made any friends in this city. I almost did one night. The night I got fed up with the "all ages show" Courtney got us into. I left and ended up at a girlie dancin' bar called Outlaws and some old man came up and asked me "why don't you go home where people love you?" He gave me ruby slippers and now... I've decided to go to Georgia.

Atlanta is at least as interesting as Portland, not quite as foreign to me and full of old memories but still... interesting.
All I want is a big and juicy steak. I'd fry it up with some Worcestershire sauce and butter, leave it pink in the middle. Oh and some okra, yeah and squash.

I talked to Kiah (the kinder-gardener) when I was in Brooklyn. I told her I was hungry and she told me she'd send me a plate of food. Said she'd send fish and potatoes and even a dessert of chocolate pie. It sounded great but unfortunately five-year-olds are not good at following through with the ideas they conceptualize.

and I'm off to enter another hell. At least it's a hell where all of my clothes and books are. I've been living with the same clothes all summer and losing panties along the way. In the old days I would write more about the panties but this estrip thing has grown to frightening proportions. I'll have to save some stories for when I visit Buffalo.


What's sad is I have Courtney's apartment to myself this weekend and I'm not even enjoying it. I've been depressed. Every movie I watch or book I read makes me tear up. Faulkner's Two Soldiers almost killed me. Anything that involves the disillusionment of children, I find especially upsetting. Usually media bounces right off of me but lately all that emotional shit, I've been absorbing it like a maxi pad and the illusion of pain, whether masterfully rendered or poorly, briefly becomes my own real pain..

and no, it's not PMS. I'm just crazy. It must be that I miss my vibrator. Water pressure is getting boring. maybe I just miss my space and solitude. yeah, I really miss those things. I dreamed I was being chased by these two men last night. I had to do all this ninja shit to get rid of them. Then I had to explain to Donnie and Chante what I was doing in their house watching the flat screen. and for some oddly disturbing reason Marc Bohlen was there.

The saddest part... I lost Bruce here in Portland. He was a little yellow action figure who followed me from elsewhere. I plan on making a commemorative video.

my sister-in-law, Dee, sent some photos of my nieces. talking about how damn hard it is to get a good picture of all three of them. Gracie's face in the bottem picture is my favorite.