yeah, mine was strange. my dad is strange, my mom is strange. my stepdad is morose, my stepmom is on crack. my grandparents are sane and sweet, and so by necessity get trampled by the madness. but lest it seem not so, i am thankful for my family. the whole insane frickin lot of them. they're just so much more fun to be around when not gathered. last week i didn't really want to move far away (flagstaff was our flavor of the week last week) because of my family, now it's like, hey, there's jets, and there's once a year or so, and that's a-ok. hope everyone else had a better day. next year i think i'll go to a shelter or the salvation army, where the inhabitants are much more civil to one another and generally cheerier about life than some members of my family. good grief.

yay, more peeps. where are the wendies and zacharies so's i don't have to scroll so far down for to see me? biatch! wow biatch and snatch have many similiar letters. if you combine their differences you get bisn. as in bisnitch. bisnatch? snbiatch? i am on to something, yes?

"knock it off. a jackelope is fuckin ridiculous. and you know it."

ooh, so i ended up in niagara falls last night also, paul had a performance in this building we had to find with bad directions, so it was a kind of scavenger hunt. (i have always thought having one on elmwood or allen would be so fun where clues are revealed by spending time in various shops and/or bars. probably bars.)
so yeah, it was in this old high school, which we finally found, but first got lost on the most desolate, abandoned, burned out shells of former streets i have ever seen. it was like a ghost town ghetto. i am rarely scared of neighborhoods but i was truly frightened. we kept going down dead end streets with these ghastly turnarounds.
so we finally get to the old high school, part of which has been converted to artists' galleries/space but the rest empty and desolate.... -- in the lockers were gum wrappers and i love charles and whatnot, binka baby and bugs wuz here class of 92--- exploring places like that is great fun in that what was once a structure in a citadel is now just a mostly purposeless building that a lot of people left something in. it is fascinating to me. someday when we destroy our planet and hence ourselves, this kind of thing will be the anthropological evidence we leave for future(?) humans (or other) to piece together. super fun, huh?

mind.

it is seriously fucked up, this place. it has a hold on people like i have never seen anywhere else in the country, not that i've spent large amounts of time in any one other place but.... people who leave for supposedly greener pastures always end up "coming home" this is fine because i'm in my 'i like it here' phase (right now) but there are times when i hate it here and can't wait to get the fuck out and live in a *real* city. whatever that means.
what really gets my goat tho, is especially if you were raised here, it's ingrained from frickin infancy to think small. anything that might qualify as a 'big dream' seems so impossible. new york and toronto are around the corner, but almost everyone i know has gone to school here (hey, i'm not knocking our fine learning institutions) and wants to stay here and work and live. again, fine, but if you have a dream, it *can* be pursued-- i have a weird theory (hm, it might be from being raised here) that if you can't make it here, you can't make it anywhere. still, maybe it's the beast of burden which is now so shortly upon us, but buffalonians are not people of great expectations. (which i am reading right now, it's a masterpiece i think.) it is a bit sad, and strugglesome.