mobile01/09/07 07:41 - 30ºF - ID#37618
my 'a' is broken
and i sort of like the nub under that left pinky, and that i have to pay extra attention to the fact that my 'a' is being typed properly. 'a's are everywhere, a lot. heh heh would always have to be heh heh, and never ha ha without it. everyone's laugh would be much more sarcastic, and the vaguely german spelling of 'lugh' to boot. srcstic lughing germns.
enough of that. i will get it fixed, then i will not remember what it was like, the feel under my pinky of this tiny green dot that resembles an upturned breast. oh, all the things we don't see that govern our lives so. how quickly our focus shifts to survive a simple 24.
enough of that as well, miss wax fantastic. i like southern yankee's 'i despise' list. it is so much more honest to do this in january than resolution-ing. i despise getting older, when there is no one to tell you you're doing just fine anymore. when you have to convince yourself you are, and of many other things. i despise thinking of it as 'getting older,' which only makes me feel it more precisely.
on my languorous drive to work, i began to think about some well spent times of yore, and to sort of feel as though they were colors of a sort, vibrant or shady, and then almost taking on a texture as well, like tattered or shiny or, oh, waffle weave, say. it makes me think i should make something out of fabric, but then also i got to thinking of a (particularly female) preoccupation with redecorating rooms, and almost wondered if my 'colors of my youth' meanderings tie into that. that if the 'colors' and 'textures' aren't happening to you (or if you aren't making them happen) as experience, you will then try to impose it physically (change of scenery/brighten a room/liven things up are commonly used phrases for the phenomenon) upon your world.
but when you are done, then what?
you might just need to rework your sentence so it does not possess one ' '.
enough of that. i will get it fixed, then i will not remember what it was like, the feel under my pinky of this tiny green dot that resembles an upturned breast. oh, all the things we don't see that govern our lives so. how quickly our focus shifts to survive a simple 24.
enough of that as well, miss wax fantastic. i like southern yankee's 'i despise' list. it is so much more honest to do this in january than resolution-ing. i despise getting older, when there is no one to tell you you're doing just fine anymore. when you have to convince yourself you are, and of many other things. i despise thinking of it as 'getting older,' which only makes me feel it more precisely.
on my languorous drive to work, i began to think about some well spent times of yore, and to sort of feel as though they were colors of a sort, vibrant or shady, and then almost taking on a texture as well, like tattered or shiny or, oh, waffle weave, say. it makes me think i should make something out of fabric, but then also i got to thinking of a (particularly female) preoccupation with redecorating rooms, and almost wondered if my 'colors of my youth' meanderings tie into that. that if the 'colors' and 'textures' aren't happening to you (or if you aren't making them happen) as experience, you will then try to impose it physically (change of scenery/brighten a room/liven things up are commonly used phrases for the phenomenon) upon your world.
but when you are done, then what?
you might just need to rework your sentence so it does not possess one ' '.
Permalink: my_a_is_broken.html
Words: 355
Location: Buffalo, NY
08/20/06 08:23 - 65ºF - ID#36377
how in the hell did i end up sane??
well, in comparison at least.
3 year disintegration, during which either 1) families and/or individuals dissolve, the effervescence of which bubbles constantly against my skin, up and around my breathing apparati, so that i can only get sips of air in the constant onslaught. or 2) there is no dissolution, simply an ever present parental/familial lack unnoticed due to a heretofore preoccupation with self, i.e. immaturity; which made life seem as grand as most dub their childhood. was the childhood grand, or simply the perception of it? perhaps this is only my adult self learning to breathe.
Mother: who will i give my love to?
Father: i give it to God, who will solve everything.
Mother: did you say something?
Father: who are you? well, how bout i'll come over, but not to find out. (next day) i'm sick. i can't come over. (repeat)
Mother: will anyone love me, ever again?
Father: if there's no pain, praise God. if there's pain, praise God anyway. You can read the book of Job about that.
Mother: i spent much more than i meant to this weekend. (repeat)
Grandmother: let's see.....knight, bishop, pawn, qu--oh, okay, queen (phew).....now where did that other knight get off to?
uncle: when do we eat?
stepmother: i'm not fine, and i want everyone to know it.
stepfather: i'm fine, and i want no one to know it.
me:
3 year disintegration, during which either 1) families and/or individuals dissolve, the effervescence of which bubbles constantly against my skin, up and around my breathing apparati, so that i can only get sips of air in the constant onslaught. or 2) there is no dissolution, simply an ever present parental/familial lack unnoticed due to a heretofore preoccupation with self, i.e. immaturity; which made life seem as grand as most dub their childhood. was the childhood grand, or simply the perception of it? perhaps this is only my adult self learning to breathe.
Mother: who will i give my love to?
Father: i give it to God, who will solve everything.
Mother: did you say something?
Father: who are you? well, how bout i'll come over, but not to find out. (next day) i'm sick. i can't come over. (repeat)
Mother: will anyone love me, ever again?
Father: if there's no pain, praise God. if there's pain, praise God anyway. You can read the book of Job about that.
Mother: i spent much more than i meant to this weekend. (repeat)
Grandmother: let's see.....knight, bishop, pawn, qu--oh, okay, queen (phew).....now where did that other knight get off to?
uncle: when do we eat?
stepmother: i'm not fine, and i want everyone to know it.
stepfather: i'm fine, and i want no one to know it.
me:
Permalink: how_in_the_hell_did_i_end_up_sane_.html
Words: 232
Location: Buffalo, NY
08/06/06 08:28 - 82ºF - ID#36376
things i'd like
attainable or not, i'd like to keep this list in mind as my mind reels lately with an uncharacteristic lust after objects. and SO, here are the things my heart really wants, not necessarily in priority:
1. learn chinese, go to china for a long long time. many 'jong's.
2. a house that wraps around my self like a blankie
3. 3 nights consecutively of uninterrupted sleep
4. three boobs. hahahaha..... that might help with #3.
5. go swimming more
ok, so only one of those is materialistic, which is good but a little bit cheating since i have been wanting all kinds of ridiculous nonsensical things i don't need lately LIKE: purple coneflower, antiques, a sea salt and peppercorn grinder, a wool coat, and that downy spray you spritz on your clothes that magically erases all the wrinkles. ALSO a $3700 couch, $1800 "wine cubby" wall (what the hell is a "wine cubby" and why do i want it?), exotic lotions, a $78 shirt, an $88 sweater, makeup brushes, dill weed, fabric, a swimsuit (uh, summer's done, son), and naturally, 85,000 pairs of shoes. weeeeelllll, i kind of actually DO need the wool coat, and maybe 2 out of the 85,000 pairs. there. that is a little more honest. it actually feels a lot better to admit all the dumb things i want than to put it all nicey nicey. hey. and i am a material girl.
1. learn chinese, go to china for a long long time. many 'jong's.
2. a house that wraps around my self like a blankie
3. 3 nights consecutively of uninterrupted sleep
4. three boobs. hahahaha..... that might help with #3.
5. go swimming more
ok, so only one of those is materialistic, which is good but a little bit cheating since i have been wanting all kinds of ridiculous nonsensical things i don't need lately LIKE: purple coneflower, antiques, a sea salt and peppercorn grinder, a wool coat, and that downy spray you spritz on your clothes that magically erases all the wrinkles. ALSO a $3700 couch, $1800 "wine cubby" wall (what the hell is a "wine cubby" and why do i want it?), exotic lotions, a $78 shirt, an $88 sweater, makeup brushes, dill weed, fabric, a swimsuit (uh, summer's done, son), and naturally, 85,000 pairs of shoes. weeeeelllll, i kind of actually DO need the wool coat, and maybe 2 out of the 85,000 pairs. there. that is a little more honest. it actually feels a lot better to admit all the dumb things i want than to put it all nicey nicey. hey. and i am a material girl.
Permalink: things_i_d_like.html
Words: 224
Location: Buffalo, NY
07/27/06 08:32 - 75ºF - ID#36375
busyness equals lonelyness?
or perhaps they are weird sisters of a sort. it would seem they are opposites but think how if you haven't spoken to your friend in soooo long the 'i'm sorry i've been really busy' line is the first one you use. it'd be much more honest, and would probably help patch the friendship better, if we just said 'i'm sorry, i've been really lonely.' 'i'm sorry, i've been focusing elsewhere, and our relationship has suffered for it.'
friends are so important, that is a thing i must remember. in my life, people and things have come before (and i *have* loved them all) and the ones i've hung on to are simply the ones that have hung on to ME. plenty of things have changed and then some things just stay the same. friends are hard to make and even harder to keep and i am rambling but i write this as a note to myself for the future, from this the past: if someday you wake and ever should think 'it is only when we're young that we shake each other's hearts ', then you must slap yourself and do all in your power to find that again and make it happen.
"and no kinds of love are better than others (la dee ta ta taaa...)" -lou reed, velvet underground
friends are so important, that is a thing i must remember. in my life, people and things have come before (and i *have* loved them all) and the ones i've hung on to are simply the ones that have hung on to ME. plenty of things have changed and then some things just stay the same. friends are hard to make and even harder to keep and i am rambling but i write this as a note to myself for the future, from this the past: if someday you wake and ever should think 'it is only when we're young that we shake each other's hearts ', then you must slap yourself and do all in your power to find that again and make it happen.
"and no kinds of love are better than others (la dee ta ta taaa...)" -lou reed, velvet underground
Permalink: busyness_equals_lonelyness_.html
Words: 226
Location: Buffalo, NY
07/22/06 02:18 - 68ºF - ID#36374
pat sajak, that son of a bitch
i have a serious problem with him. i have been watching jeopardy as of late and am sometimes confronted with the soulless mofo in the last moments of 'wheel', while he is mindlessly bantering with vanna for the camera. empty, vacant, he makes me ill.
perhaps i write this only because soulfulness has been on my mind as of late. i (rather vainly) used to imagine i was an 'old soul' (how you truly know this is beyond me) but now i think of how little i truly know about life and how my feelings, experiences, and intuitions are really no more special or amazing than anyone else's. (well, ok, just a tad more special hahah). i think about how my poor memory has contributed to a sort of 9 lives phenomenon with me, and how even if i've "been there, done that" it is like a plastic egg in my mind: only an outside influence can reveal the surprise inside. all these things and more now cause me to believe that in fact my soul is very young, so hurray for hasenfefer, here we go! i think it helps to make me an excellent mama.
back to work isn't quite the blues i thought it would be. the first week was hard, big time. this week, magically i am cured of the initial heartsickness. it helps that my company is WONderful. now i feel an opposite worry creeping in, that i just don't have the patience with little cute that i did when i was here with him ALL DAY. sigh. always something to fuss over with me.
perhaps i write this only because soulfulness has been on my mind as of late. i (rather vainly) used to imagine i was an 'old soul' (how you truly know this is beyond me) but now i think of how little i truly know about life and how my feelings, experiences, and intuitions are really no more special or amazing than anyone else's. (well, ok, just a tad more special hahah). i think about how my poor memory has contributed to a sort of 9 lives phenomenon with me, and how even if i've "been there, done that" it is like a plastic egg in my mind: only an outside influence can reveal the surprise inside. all these things and more now cause me to believe that in fact my soul is very young, so hurray for hasenfefer, here we go! i think it helps to make me an excellent mama.
back to work isn't quite the blues i thought it would be. the first week was hard, big time. this week, magically i am cured of the initial heartsickness. it helps that my company is WONderful. now i feel an opposite worry creeping in, that i just don't have the patience with little cute that i did when i was here with him ALL DAY. sigh. always something to fuss over with me.
Permalink: pat_sajak_that_son_of_a_bitch.html
Words: 268
Location: Buffalo, NY
Category: mishmash
06/29/06 02:11 - 72ºF - ID#36373
excellent uses for a husband's severed
leg.
1. a most fashionable blue-magenta boa that may just start a haute couture leg-severing trend, darling...
2. a highly pliable golf club and/or croquet mallet; once bent it will maintain an excellent stiffness, providing both distance and accuracy
3. in a bind, use as a plank to get from roof to roof
4. anytime art exhibit--simply set up, then extrapolate
5. great body pillow for summer: always cool!
6. javelin substitute
7. foil for the ever present danger of the "urban lynx": throw, then run.
1. a most fashionable blue-magenta boa that may just start a haute couture leg-severing trend, darling...
2. a highly pliable golf club and/or croquet mallet; once bent it will maintain an excellent stiffness, providing both distance and accuracy
3. in a bind, use as a plank to get from roof to roof
4. anytime art exhibit--simply set up, then extrapolate
5. great body pillow for summer: always cool!
6. javelin substitute
7. foil for the ever present danger of the "urban lynx": throw, then run.
Permalink: excellent_uses_for_a_husband_s_severed.html
Words: 80
Location: Buffalo, NY
Category: estrip business
06/20/06 11:00 - 69ºF - ID#36372
survey answers
1. through paul while a visitor in his home
2. a few friends know. no family, no work people. real name, not real photo.
3. a handful. 10 or 14.
4. it hasn't really, unless i am at an e-party and i connect the face with the journal. though that is only once in a while.
5. n/a
6. 3
7. yes
(equip)
1.none
2.no
(lifestyle)
1. if i know the person and they reference something in their journal, i am more likely to check it out or keep it in mind. i go through spurts with e-strip, sometimes i'll post then check a bunch and nose around a lot, then i'll be absent for weeks. when i am on it, it's usually for about 15 minutes, 30 at most.
1a- when i do go on, i check out 4 or so.
2. it definitely makes me think everyone knows everyone, or if you don't it's because you're out of the loop, or you don't want or need to meet people.
3. no
4. no
5. no
6. a little. it's just good to write, since i don't do it that often anymore. and i can be silly, or not. whatever.
7. yes, kind of a 'mom's blog' thing that was on typepad but is being moved. does not affect e-strip or vice versa.
8. no, don't work
9. n/a--tho i don't post too often
Permalink: survey_answers.html
Words: 227
Location: Buffalo, NY
04/27/06 12:51 - 48ºF - ID#36371
buffalo graffiti
this tag is all over buffalo. i first noticed it on a building across from the gold dome, on a wall above the old harold's shoes. that particular tag has what seem to be codes in simple black line letters in front and back of the "atak hert" (with 'hert' in bubble letters below and to the side) and of course, leads one to immediately ask "hm, what does *that* mean?" (not for me to know, i realize) it is also on an abandoned bowling center near amherst and main and in countless doorways. i have only ever noticed it on dead buildings, which may or may not be a statement in itself.
the tag in the picture is on shelled out projects off of fillmore ave. it towers over the 33 and is very impressive and a little scary. atak/hert what, or whom? is it "just" a name? i, as a mere 'noticer', am not going to suppose that i ought to know, theorize as to the whats and whys, or get all paranoid about it,, but i am definitely intrigued. i did a bit of (very mild) investigating....i liked the following quote.
this is gleaned from this website , a thesis by Bradley J. Bartolomeo of Union College:
Like reading poetry once written in another language, graffiti loses something in the translation when it tries to win the affection of the haves. It is not to be taken more lightly than weaponry, because that is what it is. Graffiti is our war. Graffiti is not supposed to be there. that's why it works. (The Vapors 2000:4)
Permalink: buffalo_graffiti.html
Words: 270
Location: Buffalo, NY
Category: preggo stuff
11/30/05 11:52 - ID#36370
and the winner is.....
sex! sex sex sex, sex sex ss sex sex
as the number one suggestion to bring on the labor. runners up:
2. sex and wine (half a glass, of course)
3. paul should 'stimulate' (ooh, so technical) my nipples during an entire football game. then we should pretend i'm the center and he's the qb and "hut" the baby out. (this one wins for laughability)
4. watch or listen to particularly moving movies or music
5. walk laps around my house, rigorously clean
6. whack it (still sex? i guess so....)
of all of these, only #4 sounds appealing. i am supremely lethargic, in limbo, tired and worn out with pregnancy. any active action seems insurmountably difficult. i regard sex as an act of pure lunacy at this point, something that might kill me.
having the baby also seems abstract now. about two weeks ago was the 'peak of readiness,' a high point of excitement and preparedness and emotional and mental stability. now doubt has shadowed things a lot. i worry all is not well. i fear the unnaturalness of induction, but prefer it infinitely to the dreaded "C". the baby squirms and kicks with zest, i think it is struggling for the way out, become convinced that somehow my body isn't capable of progressing into labor. i feel let down, cheated, having done all the right things till now then having to get frickin induced??? not fair. nothing i can do. any little thing is a 'sign,' yet i've been teased by twinges so often that i know it's not 'the real thing' every time. and so it seems this baby will never come. that we're 'not really' going to be parents. that december 10th, then 20th, then christmas will come around, and i'll still be this pregnant, still waiting. and of course having those thoughts is a kind of big scare unto itself--no self-fulfilling prophecies, please. no macabre foreshadowing.
i would love it so if there was some root i could chew to make it happen, some rare, not necessarily delicious fruit i could tear apart, and then it would happen. sarsparilla, maybe?
as the number one suggestion to bring on the labor. runners up:
2. sex and wine (half a glass, of course)
3. paul should 'stimulate' (ooh, so technical) my nipples during an entire football game. then we should pretend i'm the center and he's the qb and "hut" the baby out. (this one wins for laughability)
4. watch or listen to particularly moving movies or music
5. walk laps around my house, rigorously clean
6. whack it (still sex? i guess so....)
of all of these, only #4 sounds appealing. i am supremely lethargic, in limbo, tired and worn out with pregnancy. any active action seems insurmountably difficult. i regard sex as an act of pure lunacy at this point, something that might kill me.
having the baby also seems abstract now. about two weeks ago was the 'peak of readiness,' a high point of excitement and preparedness and emotional and mental stability. now doubt has shadowed things a lot. i worry all is not well. i fear the unnaturalness of induction, but prefer it infinitely to the dreaded "C". the baby squirms and kicks with zest, i think it is struggling for the way out, become convinced that somehow my body isn't capable of progressing into labor. i feel let down, cheated, having done all the right things till now then having to get frickin induced??? not fair. nothing i can do. any little thing is a 'sign,' yet i've been teased by twinges so often that i know it's not 'the real thing' every time. and so it seems this baby will never come. that we're 'not really' going to be parents. that december 10th, then 20th, then christmas will come around, and i'll still be this pregnant, still waiting. and of course having those thoughts is a kind of big scare unto itself--no self-fulfilling prophecies, please. no macabre foreshadowing.
i would love it so if there was some root i could chew to make it happen, some rare, not necessarily delicious fruit i could tear apart, and then it would happen. sarsparilla, maybe?
Permalink: and_the_winner_is_.html
Words: 351
Location: Buffalo, NY
Category: preggo stuff
11/23/05 12:33 - 24ºF - ID#36369
bittersweet symphony
mine and the baby's time in the same vessel is drawing to a close. it has been a miraculous, ordinary, extraordinary time, one in which i am quite honestly at this point excited to end. why?
1. people say things (in a cooing tone) like 'what a cute belly you have' look, bitch, last night i slept about 2 hours, felt like all the cold water in the ocean wouldn't quench my heartburn, and had gas to rival bush's private stores. even that newborn panda does not appear 'cute' to me.
2. "is it a boy or girl?" has been on repeat for about the last six months. i should have made a puff paint t-shirt with 'i don't know' written across the belly. in a neutral color, of course.
3. goddamnit, i don't care if it's trashy, i would really LOVE a freezing. cold. beer.
4. sex again would be grand (though i guess that's what got me here in the FIRST place). sigh........someday........you know, when the STITCHES heal.
5. my walk may again come to resemble my own, not a penguin's. i can put on an article of clothing that might actually make me feel like a human female (as opposed to a saint bernard). boots with heels. any shoe with heels.
6. i am going to be the best damn mama this world has seen, or at least western new york.
7. #3
phew, that felt pretty good, to complain! now perhaps i can do less of it to my family tomorrow. have a wonderful holiday, to anyone who is reading this, and a frosty cold one for me (i count as two, actually. maybe 3).
1. people say things (in a cooing tone) like 'what a cute belly you have' look, bitch, last night i slept about 2 hours, felt like all the cold water in the ocean wouldn't quench my heartburn, and had gas to rival bush's private stores. even that newborn panda does not appear 'cute' to me.
2. "is it a boy or girl?" has been on repeat for about the last six months. i should have made a puff paint t-shirt with 'i don't know' written across the belly. in a neutral color, of course.
3. goddamnit, i don't care if it's trashy, i would really LOVE a freezing. cold. beer.
4. sex again would be grand (though i guess that's what got me here in the FIRST place). sigh........someday........you know, when the STITCHES heal.
5. my walk may again come to resemble my own, not a penguin's. i can put on an article of clothing that might actually make me feel like a human female (as opposed to a saint bernard). boots with heels. any shoe with heels.
6. i am going to be the best damn mama this world has seen, or at least western new york.
7. #3
phew, that felt pretty good, to complain! now perhaps i can do less of it to my family tomorrow. have a wonderful holiday, to anyone who is reading this, and a frosty cold one for me (i count as two, actually. maybe 3).
Permalink: bittersweet_symphony.html
Words: 271
Location: Buffalo, NY
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