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.