i dont cur

no its okay if this comes off as really wollowy and silly but i kind of know that i wish i could erase something from my memory because all it is doing is repeatedly scrapping away it things and making me feel like shit and regretfulll over and over and then over and over and then over. oh and then one more go around.

why am i write?

because im totally antsy all of the time. duh.

also i kind of feel like i need to hear myself on paper more/again. im so restless and im getting frustrated and alot of time its like when you have paper mess and clothes mess and your putting it off and just dealing with it even though it makes you so mad but you dont want to deal with it and then you finally do and you realize it really wasnt all that bad and it really wasnt that had to manage it just felt that way because you were knee deep in it. and thats kind of how i feel about everything.

its shitty sometimes trying to sort out that people you come into contact with alot are different and because of that kind of play different roles. that sounds like people are just being used and disposed and it also sounds really chickensoupy but i guess more like because everyone is different and you are different every relationship you have with every everybody is totally different and you can't really expect to have the same relationship with different people and then also people aren't stagnant and you're not going to have the very very same dynamic with the same person always forever and the best thing you can hope for is very good changes.

and i guess realizing and accepting that all the time is what its supposed to be to have matured but im not sure we all get that and im not sure we all stay there all the time if we even really realize and accept that ever.

i remember reading something about someone talking about "bored people" and by bored people the huge gossipers and pit beefheads and mean spiritedness. shit happens but leeching off of shit that happens. i dont know, sometimes i feel like i should feel worse about drinking alot of whisky and falling and dancing weird and doing stupid things and talking weird and stealing pickles and things or wearing a half shirt or soleless shoes or i dont know all kinds of things that are maybe a little embarrassing. but honest, do i ever wouldratherbe a drunk or a fool or a crazy or a manic or a lonely or a crockpot than bored people. also, for saying "nah dude"s

my ex-roommate is a stand up gentleman and often i felt like a sloppy next to him and he never forgave me fully for covering the bathroom in electric blue vomit. he seems more and more to me a bored person. and then i felt worse for not feeling worse for being a little too haphazard. but i felt this phrase that he and his friends uttered in my living room was coated with proof of bored person: "let's talk about what kid we hate most in tempe"
absolute willies.

i dont know are you allowed to not like bored people and are you supposed to feel sorry and is it just a scapegoat to write them down as bored people. blow people.


better friends with olivia. sympathize about being weird people. we arent very alike in alot alot of ways. when we were first friends i think all we did was talk about work and eat 65cent cones late night in front of . and be silly. and dance. all that except the work and plus everything else in a really simple way and how we would imagine the insides of dried up verde tree pods to taste like. we both agreed kind of the same texture as a cucumber, but peeled. miss kyle.

miss liz and sarah and in completely different ways feel like i was so close with them. kind of hoping having completely different but equally good mostnearlybestfriendnesses is the same as different love. all different all good all incomparable. wish wish wish.

i am in a weird fucking mood, aren't i?
must be why i am write.
also, listen to too much shitgaze. lastfm confirms.

maybe mildly masochistic

when i was in first or maybe second grade i wanted a dog so badly which i really don't understand because i was a little afraid of dogs. i really really liked animals and was totally fascinated by them and was completely charmed by them and was completely, when it came down to it, scared of them in real life. my dad bought us our first dog penny and we had little puppy gates and i did whatever i could not to be in that gate area. like sit at the dinner table with my feet in my lap. and then run away really fast with a really full belly. but i was so happy to have that dog. even though i didnt want to be near it.

i want to say that ive become so mature and grown up and started doing things that make alot more sense but i still do that all the time. bizarre choices. always. and not like i know this is bad for me but imma do it anyway imma be free. may be the end of me once.

you know, buy dogs that im scared off and love them anyway. i totally got over it and i'd like to think our bond was way better than anyone else's in the house thank you very much. if we did the run to whoever is your real owner test there wouldn't even be a competition. biffles.



i pretty sure im going to turn into a packrat. cant toss anything. can collect everything.

take the train

i wonder if they would have taken my hair donation. She straightened it and it had to be 10 but it was so sad i can only imagine a mangey rat tail donation. and i just dont know how you make a rat tail wig.

we had a good day in phoenix the other time and it made me think i dont hate it all too much its just a matter of not being there for a horribly long time. ball pit and then looking like a pedophile and then beer garden and then the best light ride (a convict prostitute drinking so cal and a convict 18year old girl with a guy in camo and an eastern european and alot of good things) and free rides on that trolly and a fashion show we werent invited to that was really really bad.

and then halfsies of a black velvet and thats the worst thing i think ive ever done to myself but i didnt get sick just came to screaming on the couch outside but didnt wake up with a farrett on me like last time and the last thing i remember was liz. i miss her. i miss you. and then two days later i got the food poisoning and im almost positive it was karma and my roommate just thinks it was another blue vomit incident which is kind of silly.

im excited and scared. i need one of these to work out okay. want more than need. i hate making phone calls. i don't know if i'll take alaska. i dont know if i have balls yet. its supposed to be beautiful. and pay. and a lot of animals.

i miss talking to sara and erin and

friend envy

sara and i used to talk about how when we were little and even now there's people you want to be your friend super bad and you dont even know them but you figure it'd be super nice and they'd call you up on the phone and you'd go get a cup of coffee and they'd tell you things that had nothing to do with why you had friend lust for them in the beginning like talking about their dog or something they saw on tv about sea creatures.

and i really wish charlie kaufman were my friend.
and its silly that they mention in his biography that he went to school with Christopher Columbus. I dont know, its weird to think about his stuff and then home alone.

and this is mostly for liz and every interview i read of his changes the way i feel about things and not because its horribly spiritual or emotional but its on a plate this is this is this and it never is supposed to be about what i associate it with but it kind of just wraps itself exactly the way its supposed to be exactly the way it is. and he never leads onto elaborate references; i feel like if you asked him something about Alexander Pope he'd mumble and probably change the subject and kind of think that was annoying.

"this character which is like the free-spirited, kooky woman who only exists in order to teach man how to live" and i feel like that was russia.

"We all create the world outside of us. Parallel to the thing I was saying about time—this is a very subjective experience, being alive. You’re constantly interpreting and reinterpreting and trying to figure out “The Story.” You’re trying to figure out the story of me, and I’m trying to figure out the story of you and somehow incorporate that into my understanding of the world. We tell stories, as people. [But] I don’t think, if you stepped back from people, there are any stories. I don’t think the world really exists that way. It’s the way our brains work, it’s the way we try to organize input."

and all of this is totally cheesy but i really like charlie

"I wanted to build a casino in Las Vegas called Las Vegas, Las Vegas. Like the idea of Paris, Las Vegas (the real life casino) is that you don’t have to actually go there — their campaign is something like ‘all the best of Paris without the French people.’ So then (with Las Vegas, Las Vegas,) there’s the idea that you don’t actually have to go to Paris, Las Vegas either because there’s a replica of all of Vegas—including Paris, Las Vegas—within this other casino. So you get even more safe by not having to go out into the strip at all. I thought that would be a pretty successful resort."

also someone called him "so meta" and thats reason enough to want to be his friend weather or not he actually is "meta" and whatever that even really means anyway

back on track

five times turned down for twistie cones this week and it didnt help anything. and then we decided to fix it. and the first mcdonald's we rolled up to had it. ate it in staples parking lot like the old times but not in front of baskin robins because we were chicken and it was open.
and then we see this parade rolling down the street. like 20 kids and a shopping cart and hula hoops and a ghetto blaster. and we looped back for a better look and slowed down and they were all strung out and looking into the light like zombies. and then looped again. and then determined to go find them later but fell asleep by accident.
funsavers with olive, and then the dog park with roxanne and it was 5 of us and 1 dog having the time of our lives and getting abused by this puggish mutt Brutus who kept kicking water on us and pissed on roxanne's leash and then this tiny dog with a mustache who had a british owner. later i dragged roxanne away from an awful hardcore show going on at her house and took her on the longest walk i think she'd ever managed and was sure i might have to go scout a shopping cart and push her the rest of the way. also she pooped in someone's lawn and i had to fashion a bag out of paper from my purse. flug it in the gutter when i got desperate. roxanne got excited for 5 minutes and then fell asleep for 3 hours.
olivia and i took off to go find the mountain and got side tracked for supplies for a 2 am picnic and drove out until stars started appearing and every trail was closed and even mystery castle but the city was lit up and the roads were windy and the valley's greatest oldies were pretty spot on.

GOLD RUSH AUGUST

two thousand nine

lists

the goods

1. take offs in airplanes
2. orange blossom smell in springtime
3. barefoot
4. riding fast downhill and not being scared
5. waking up outside


the needs

1. motion
2. wandering
3. outside
4. writing
5. finding out something new
6. something new


the first day in russia we were in that weird retirement home in repina and the elevator was a broom closet and the sheets in all of our rooms were mismatched and like a yard sale and we walked to the ocean. and then we walked farther and farther down the beach and to a really large rock we didn't think the sea would touch but it did it anyway and then farther and we all got a lot of sand in our shoes but we made it to a tiny cluster of graffitti rocks and they were rainbows and hearts and sara and liz were the only ones there with me except for those two russian boys who finally followed all the way and told us we had to go back.

in saratoga there was that really dirty teepee in the middle of the woods and we brought a laptop and watched welcome to the doll house which wasnt like we were expecting and i was too dirty to get any mosquito bites.

the goods

1. funsavers
2. rolands
3. W
4.

please please please

never have i ever







been this anxious for a returned phone call.

won't stop after all

i promise. russia is gone but its not over.
sometimes i like the desert. things i like about the desert: bike weather, occasional plants and animals

actually the other day and by the other day i mean twoorthreeweeksago i was riding under the bridge by the lake after the green belt ends as the sun was low and everything was kind of brownishgreyishblueish and there were three shadowy figures and i thought they were kyotes but closer they were three javelins and i didn't know if i should stop and wait for them to go along their way or zip by and hope i'd be invisible and i couldn't process it all fast enough and so i just skidded my way up to their feet and crossed my fingers i was invisible but no such luck and i scared #1 so bad he started scurrying as fast as possible like a cartoon trapped in the air and he was going so fast he turned sideways and i was super horrified and stopped moving at some point but wasn't sure when because i was so mesmerized and he finally makes it to his feet and launches himself up this nearly vertical embankment and i just know he's gunna snowball down and hit me. then #2 does the same run in place and loose his shit and turn on his side like a top or a plastic pass the pig and then up the embankment and then #3 and this is all happening so slow and i know i'm just about to be avalanched by javelins and wind up in the river and not be able to lift my bike out and the whole time all i could think was what if one of them has rabies then its def the end of me and i knew all along i'd die at the hands of a wild animal and how silly that it'd be what is essentially a slim and hairy desert pig but i'm clearly out numbered.

i should really get over rabies. its not very rational.
i should also write more. and get out the desert. at least for a little while.


and maybe stop being so dramatic