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{Tuesday, February 12, 2002}

i called in sick today. i'm not sick, i've just never called in sick since i've been working at this place and the hot water was cold this morning and i had a lot of shit to do, so it felt like a good time to use a sick day. i'm glad i did. it's cold and grey out and i've been listening to the softies and no one is home and it reminds me so much of last winter and living alone. i like my roomates, but i do miss living alone so much. anyway...i've been having some weird issues about sex...again. it's like i never escaped puberty, sex is always new and scary and exciting, but stressful too. i keep going back and fourth (heh. no pun.) on how i feel about it and what my boundaries are. i really don't know. when i was 16 it was really simple. the rule i made for myself was this: fuck whoever you want when you want to. my parents never really pushed any morals about sex on me. they never metioned anything about sex before marriage, the idea of anything being wrong with that was a foreign concept to me. it still is. as a teenager, i was very sexually active and was really into trying a bunch of stuff, but i was still a virgin. i decided that when i was lost my virginity, that i wanted it to be with someone i loved and trusted. i was excited about having sex, and it was hard to wait, but i did...fortunately, i didn't have to wait too long. i fell in love with a boy when i was 15..maybe 16 and we had sex for the first time (my first time, not his), on a lawn of some office building. once i lost my virginity, and after we broke up (1 bad tattoo and a couple weeks later), i felt like now i could fuck whoever i wanted to. luckily i didn't get too carried away and i got stuck in a couple of semi-long term relationships, so my magic number to this day is 7. that's in 8 or 9 years. anyway, of those seven people about half of them have been something meaningful and the other half were casual fucks, probably to help me get over the meaningful boys. but i learned that sex is complicated, for me it is. what i want when i'm horny is totally different than what i want after i cum. and i end up feeling a little gross and sad. it's catholic guilt, but i'm not catholic. i've learned that i'm not someone who can just disassociate myself with emotional attachments to my partners, even though i would sometimes like to be. i think about sex all the time, i love it. sometimes i like it a little freaky and i get called a perv by someone daily. but i'm not inhuman...i'm not a boy. heh. what i can handle in a fantasy situation is way more than i could ever take in real life...but i usually don't realize that until i'm in over my head. i have certain reoccuring fantasies that i really want to act out but they usually involve strangers, and they're always fucking, no love or anything and i guess that's the conflict i'm having. in real life, i think if i'm going to act out these fantasies, it needs to be with someone who i'm in a loving relationship with, who i totally trust and share mutual respect for. some of my fantasies involve being degraded and i shared them with this boy yesterday. he was into it and it was hott and i thought it would be okay, cuz i feel like he's a pretty close friend of mine, but i'm worried that the role playing and stuff will carry over into our friendship, like he'll see me as some cum starved slut. hehe. yikes! and even if i was, which i'm not, there wouldn't be anything wrong with that, it's just boys are so weird about girls and sex. anyway, i'm being distracted, so i'll finish this rambling later. ha. i'll never finish rambling.
posted by csx 3:09 PM

{Monday, January 28, 2002}

i posted this long...LONG story. if you want to read it you gotta scroll down about 3 entries to where it starts. i never finished it. i don't want to. xo

posted by csx 2:59 PM
any depressant, opiates, were fine. so at least i had that. ha. i had to switch the side i wore my radio on at work cuz it would interfere with my pacemaker...but the biggest change was just knowing how fragile my life, or anyone's life is. this came from the heart condition thing and also from the shock of my mom dying so suddenly. she was so healthy. she ran 6 miles everyother day. she only drank on rare occasions and she ate healthy. but she litterally dropped dead. and i was always healthy and i had almost dropped dead 4 times and suddenly i had this device in me that old people need to stay alive. it was really hard to think that i'm not unbreakable...it still is. i also suffered from i guess what is called "post-traumatic stress disorder" or some bullshit. when i was working i always had these vivid images of my bracelt getting caught on a truck and my arm being ripped off straight from my socket. the day dreams were so vivid that sometimes i would have to pull over and take a minute. i also was always on edge thinking that whenever i would call someone that maybe i was going to find out that they, or someone else close to me had died. i was terribly afraid of death and was sure that god or whoever was determined to end my life. shortly after i went back to work, i was riding my bike alongside of cars stopped at a stoplight. this dumb fuck stepped from the island in the road into the street and crossed the street inbetween the cars. i didn't see him and i stopped suddenly. my rear wheel skidded out and i fell and ended up with my head underneath a car. the car kept rolling and it rolled onto my messenger bag pinning me to the ground. luckily someone saw what happened and she jumped in front of the car and told them to stop. they stopped when the rear wheel was touching my head. the guy who had caused the whole thing by cutting between the cars, was standing on the sidewalk looking down at me, smiling smuggly. for some reason his yuppie ass thought it was funny. i shimmied out from out of the strap of my bag and out from under the car and started punching and kicking the guy. i told him he was a fucking idiot and then i got back on my bike and rode to the office where are dispatchers are. i waited till i was there, seated on a couch to break down. too many close calls that year. ugh. to end the year, on my birthday i was in the car with my dad, cnote, and tina liberty. we were on the freeway on our way to my dad's house when a truck started to get too close to our car. like i said, i was always on edge and ready for something bad to happen, so when i saw the truck which was on the side tina liberty was sitting on, i grabbed her and pulled her toward the middle of the car. right as i did that, the truck pulled right into us causing us to crash into a barricade and spin several times. the car was totaled, but everyone was okay. so that's it. phew. that took forever. i started writing all this yesterday and when i woke up this morning i thought for a minute that i was still in that time of my life. i've never really gone through it. no one has ever asked me about it or wanted me to talk about it.
posted by csx 2:58 PM
i don't remember when i went back to work. i know i didn't shower or get out of bed for a long time. i would be mean to cnote for no reason. that's really all i remember. i know only several days later i had to fly out to kansas, where my mom had been living. i was her only kid so i had to pack up all her stuff. it was awful. i kept expecting her to walk through the door of her apartment looking surprised to see me there. i'd tell her that we thought she was dead and she'd say, "what?! no!" and then she would hold me and comfort me and say that she was sorry i was so worried but that she just went on a short trip or something. my dad went out to kansas with me, but he stayed in a hotel. i wouldn't let him into my mom's house. i needed help packing and he offered to help, but i wouldn't let him cuz my mom was a very private person and i know the one person she would never let into her house would be my dad. i felt an obligation to be mean to my dad. i was bitter that she was dead and i was bitter about everything he had put her through, and i was guilty that i had lived with him for so long instead of her. then a few weeks later the phone rang. we had a loft bed. i got out of bed and started down the latter and passed out and fell to the floor. cnote got up and tried to sit me up and get me to snap out of it. i guess i had stopped breathing, so he started to dial 9-1-1. i came to before he could finish dialing. he said, "you need to go to the emergency room. you stopped breathing this time." so i went. so we took the bus up to the ucsf medical center. i went through the whole process, very much like going through the system in jail. i finally got into an area where they check you out and everything. i was annoyed at how long it was taking and i was disturbed by all the screaming and farting old people. it was gross. i asked this nurse when i would be able to see a doctor and he very rudely said, "you're going to have to be patient, there's people here with REAL problems." what a bitch. they didn't know what was wrong with me and dismissed it as hormones. they were about to let me go when these two young doctors came down and asked me to stay. they said that they had heard about my mom (they asked me questions about my relatives when i first got there), who had died from "unknown" causes and that they study this syndrome that they thought i might have. i was only mildly interested in what they had to say because i was hungry and still in a bit of a state of shock from my mom dying and i just wanted life to be normal again. so basically i said, "well cool, but i'm gonna go now." they told me i can't leave. that what i have is serious and that i'm lucky to have survived as many fainting spells as i had (4). i said that i just wanted to go get breakfast with my boyfriend and that i would come right back, but they said that they couldn't let me do that. they said that i could die while i'm out and they would be responsible cuz they let me go. they said the only way i could leave was if i signed a form saying that i was leaving against their advice. i said, "so get me the form." they wouldn't get me the form. i ended up staying in the hospital for 2 weeks i think it was. maybe 3. a doctor came and talked with me. he played the "bad cop". he said that i was going to have to take pills everyday and that i would have to have a pacemaker in order to stay alive. i said there was no way in hell. he said that without the pills and the pacemaker, i would be lucky if i lived 6 months. he was taking the "stern" approach. i kept saying no, but i really had no choice. saying no was like saying that i wanted to die. i stayed. i've been in jail and i've been in the hospital and if you take into consideration that when you're in the hospital you're sick, in pain and being stuck with needles, there's not a big stretch between the two. the second day i was there, they put me down with morphine and put a catheter in me. a catheter is a wire that enters through my groin and runs up to my heart...i think. all i know is i couldn't sit up for a long time cuz i had a hole in my groin that blood would come out of. and they were right cuz the next day when i was finally allowed to sit up, blood came pouring out of me making a puddle on the floor. the day after that was the big surgery day. the people in the surgery room were cool. everyone else i had dealt with there acted like wardens, but these people seemed to like their jobs. they listened to music, i think it was the temptations and asked me if i had any requests, but i didn't. they gave me a lot of drugs, i think it was morphine and i was knocked out. i woke up while they were stitching me up which was my biggest fear. when i woke up i said, "i'm awake! i'm awake!" and they gave me more drugs and i went back down. the next day i was so sick from the morphine. i felt like i was gonna die. they said it was withdrawl. i was shaking and couldn't stand up and i was crying, i hadn't showered in a long time, i was sweating, my hair was a rat's nest, i smelled, i was a fucking mess and felt as good as i looked. my dad and my sister came to visit me that day. cnote was there everyday. i was a miserable bitch. i had to stay there for about two more weeks to let the wires that ran from the pacemaker to my heart settle in and to monitor me and make sure everything was straight. my neighbors, this girl i worked with and her husband came to visit me. cnote spent his whole vacation at the hospital. i told him he didn't have to, but he did and he didn't even complain about it once. i was finally released from the hospital and i was so relieved. there was not a moment when i was in there that i was comfortable or where i felt like "this is my fate and so i'm just gonna roll with it". my dad still makes fun of me for the way i acted to all the doctors and nurses. i was a brat. i got home and because of the nature of my job (bike messenger) i was told to not work for 3 weeks. i went back to work after 2 weeks. i was healed and feeling okay. there were some changes i had to make. speed could kill me, so i couldn't do that anymore (i did it once after i was told not to). i couldn't do yay either, but that wasn't a big deal cuz i was never into it anyway.
posted by csx 2:57 PM
i wrote this a while ago. i don't really expect anyone to read all of it. it's long and i'm not reading over it to see if it's okay.

i only have 3 visible scars on my body: one on my leg from where i burnt myself with an iron (not on purpose, but wouldn't that be dramatic?), one on my right wrist from where my cat spikey (rip) scratched me when i was a kid, and one above my left breast from when they gave me a pacemaker...i also have some tiny ones on my legs from when i was 15 and i was proving how punk i was by burning myself with cigarettes. i wish i had more scars. i like the way they tell stories and they're like medals earned for things you've been through. of course i guess sometimes they can just be painful reminders. the scar above my breast not only reminds me that i am imperfect and totally breakable, but it also reminds me of the horrible mistake that was my 19th year. the worst year of my life so far. it started with spikey my cat. he got feline leukimia. he died and i took it hard. i got him for my 8th birthday. my mom and dad had seperated and we're going through a "rocky" divorce and i guess they thought it would be easier on me if i had a little friend around. so it was spikey. so he died at the end of december or the begining of january. then i started passing out. i didn't know why, it had never happened before. it would happen really suddenly, with no warning signs. i went to a couple different doctors and they would just send me home with some lame words of medical wisdom like, "it happens." one doctor gave me some bullshit about me being a girl and maybe i saw something that got me excited and that's why i passed out. i should have known better than to really on concord's medical expertise. i told my mom about passing out and she was really concerned, as any mom would be. she said i should keep going to the doctor until i find out what's going on cuz it sounds serious. on march 13th my dad rang my bell. foxy and her husband (he was her boyfriend at the time) were over hanging out with me and cnote. it was strange for my dad to just stop by at night like that, but i didn't think much of it. he sounded strange, he said "i'm out front." i came downstairs and he looked strange. he had a sympathetic smile on his face like he was trying not to cry and i could tell that he had been. it must have been one of the most difficult things for him to do, to tell his daughter that her mother's dead. my dad hadn't talked to my mom in maybe 9 years except once when i was 16 i was on the phone with him and i was crying cuz he was telling me he didn't want me to come home and so she got on the phone and yelled at him...and one time she said, "if you call me again, i'll call my lawyer." but that's about it. when i saw his face my first thought was that something horrible happened...to tina liberty. a lot of what happened is a hazy memory. he tried to tell me but he was trying really hard not to break down. i said, "what? what happened?" and i started to cry cuz i could tell whatever it was, it was awful." he said, "your mom..." and that threw me off. "what?" i don't remember exactly how he said it, i didn't really hear it, i just felt it. i started screaming. louder than i ever have. it wasn't a conscious reaction. i didn't even realize i was doing it until i heard myself several seconds later. it was such a crazy reaction and thinking about it makes me cry. my dad at that point broke down. he pulled me towards him, partly to comfort me and partly to muffle my scream. it was by far the most horriffic thing i have ever felt. my mom was very healthy, so i thought she was murdered. i thought i was having a nightmare, literally. i immediately jumped into the "denial" stage. i knew that my mom was one of the healthiest people i knew and that my dad has no connections to my mom anymore, so i thought i was having a lucid dream. i said, "wait, how do you know? you don't even talk to her." he told me that my aunt had called him. they had found my mom dead on her couch. i was back in the nightmare. i think i started screaming again. i lived in seedy area of sf. a crackhead walked up to us and said, "it's not that bad." i don't remember what was said exactly but my dad started fighting with the crackhead. an all too surreal experience. my dad asked if i wanted to come home with him, but i didn't. i wanted to stay with cnote and i wanted to pretend that this didn't happen. i wanted to ignore it cuz i didn't feel like this was something i could ever handle. we went up to my apartment and told cnote what happened. he started to cry. it was the first time i had seen him cry. my dad was going to go home. part of my trauma was that from that point on and for the next year or so i always felt like something bad would happend to the people close to me. i insisted on walking my dad back to his car. i was afraid the crackhead was going to kill my dad. it sounds silly, but i was totally out of my mind. i walked him to his car. my dad was crying and i was comforting him. he kept saying, "i'm sorry." i told him it was okay, that i was okay. i felt resentful toward him because he was really abusive to my mom and i felt like he didn't have a right to be upset. i also felt resentful cuz i felt like i had it more together than he did, i was comforting him. but that wasn't true. like i said, i was out of my mind. i went back home feeling sort of numb. i don't really remember the rest of the night. i know if i actually slept, it was on the couch. we had this stained glass thing that you put over a candle, it had been burning and i left it burning and just watched the light flickering, not really thinking about anything.
posted by csx 2:56 PM

{Saturday, January 26, 2002}

i've been spending way too much time on the computer. it's really bad. you would think cuz of that, i'd be better at keeping up with this thing, but no. i'm not feeling so great today. it should have been a good day, but i'm feeling really, really sad. i've got lots of reasons, but i'm not sure what the root of the problem is. i'm not sure if those reasons are just excuses for something else. i think an important friendship might be falling off and it's crushing me. it was real pretty out today so i rode my bike to williamsburg to find tina liberty a present. i couldn't find anything, but even if i had it wouldn't matter cuz i have no money. so then i rode to my favorite spot in brooklyn and explored a bit and enjoyed the view of the city and the sunset and the moon all at once. then i rode home. i think that should have made me happy, but it didn't. i watched fight club for the first time tonight. that movie is fucked. i skipped the run dmc show. it's not a long story, but it's a boring one and i'm tired so i'll spare you. i'm gonna go to bed. night. xo
posted by csx 11:52 PM

{Wednesday, January 23, 2002}

it's cold and it's winter and i want someone to spoon with. it's not a big deal. i've been thinking of walking up to a cute boy on the street (he doesn't even have to be THAT cute) and asking him if he would spoon with me. i would say, "excuse me, sorry to bother you, but it's been really cold and i know it's sort of strange to ask, but i don't really know many people in new york and i was wondering if you would like to come over and spoon." but then i would probably say something stupid like, "okay, do you have a computer? i'll give you my email address." and then the huge nerd alert would go off in the guys head and he would start yelling like the frat boys in revenge of the nerds, "NERD! NERD!" and it'd be so embarassing and i'd go back into hiding for months. i've got this ideal date in my head. maybe the date would last 36 hours or something. first we would meet up during the day and get breakfast. then we'd get coffee and walk around and hang out and just get to know eachother. then in the evening, we'd go to my house and make dinner, or maybe bring some home, go in my room and stay there for a really long time. we'd eat our dinner, listen to music sit on the bed and just talk and act silly and stuff. it'd be sort of reminiscent of hanging out with a girlfriend when you're in highschool or something. we'd throw things at the neighbors window and try to get him to talk to us. we'd maybe play truth or dare and he would dare me to kiss him. hehe. but it would just be a peck and we'd keep hanging out and having fun in my room...fully clothed. by 5 in the morning we would finally start to get tired and we would spoon and fall asleep. the next day we would stay in bed for a long time cuddling and laughing too much cuz we would have that kind of chemistry...maybe i would ride my bike to go get us bagels. then that night we would maybe meet up with a couple people and go to luxx to go dancing. then later we would seperate from the group and he would come back to my house again (or i'd go to his, depending on where he lives) and he would kiss me and we would make out and it would be hott. the end....oh, and then we would eventually fall in love and he would be the best boy ever, better than the chicago boy, and maybe we would get married and i'd get a dog and we would be happy together (me and the boy...and the dog) but still keep our own seperate lives and i would be a rockstar and never have to work a boring job. and we'd move to california. yesss.
posted by csx 8:13 AM
today i'm posting entries from yesterday. confusing huh?

the internet isn't working at our office, i guess cuz some manhole got flooded or something. and i am FIENDING. i'm writing this entry on a "sticky" and i'm gonna paste it into the journal later. my headache never went away. it's making me dizzy. i have some sick days so maybe i'll take one today. i don't know, seems like a waste. if i'm gonna feel like shit, i might as well go all out and feel like shit at work. i want to get the full effect. and i want to save my "sick days" for something good. last night i had a restless sleep. i dreamed that i was dating an older teacher and i was telling one of my friends how i got a sugar daddy. then i realized that this was not a "sugar daddy" situation cuz he's a teacher and teachers don't make shit, so all it was was me dating an old man. i was bummed. i felt trapped and smothered by this guy, like he was taking my youth away from me. he was trying really hard to take care of me in this annoying way like ,"oh honey, don't do that, you'll get sick..." i felt like i was dating my dad. the dream was actually about someone. it's this guy i talk to cuz of my work. he's a lot older than me, i think he might be in his mid fourties. i've only talked to him on the phone but stretch was telling me that he was asking about me, like what i look like and if i have a boyfriend. he's really nice...and funny in a corny way, but i have no desire to date him. he calls me and tells me stuff and now it seems obvious that he has some "interest" in me. a lot of people seem to know about his interest in me and they clown me about it. it's a weird situation. there's this one fish in the fish tank that swims upside down and backwards from time to time and now he's got the other fish doing it too. i like them.
posted by csx 8:12 AM

{Monday, January 21, 2002}

so i was watching mtv 2 this evening and they played that mary j. blige video for "no more drama" and i really like that song and as corny as it sounds, it got me thinking about stuff. i decided a while ago that i was sick of having drama in my life all the time, and always being on the brink of disaster, but that i tend to run toward it and that i wanted to change that. so i was gonna stop drinking/doing drugs, stop having casual sex, avoid boys who don't have their shit together, etc. and so i did that and my life is drama-free and really boring. i guess the grass is always greener. stretch says i am too much of a goody two shoes now. i have a sordid past but i don't want to be one of those people that's always holding on to that. a burnout who's always saying, "when i was young..." but on the other hand, i was so depressed all the time when my life was more "exciting". it was awful. i was always in pain, at one point i was even suicidal. and although i had a lot to talk about and i have some good stories, i ended up with nothing to show for it all. and my life is kinda boring now, but it's productive at least and maybe, hopefully it'll pay off. i just feel like i'm in a bit of a rut right now and i need to bring another element into my life or something otherwise i might one day find myself shopping for teddy bear dish sets...also having nothing to do with anything else. i can't stop thinking about sex. even at times when it seems really inappropriate and i don't want to think about it. i don't think there's anything wrong with me, but i do think it's a little odd and it's really distracting. i wonder if it has to do with my "magical cycle". hehe. oooh, the Magical Cycle. cuz it seems to come and go. for about 2 weeks out of a month it's all i think about and it's almost painful. it's just an overwhelming urge and an incredibly distracting force in my life. and then the other two weeks i guess it's mildly distracting. well whatever, it's not a problem...just something to talk about cuz i know everyone's a big fat perv and all they want to hear about is sex. today i chose fingers over a vibrator. i'm glad about that cuz i was worried that it would be hard to go back. but for some reason today i chose fingers. so that's one less thing to worry about. there you go fuckers. that's it. i have a headache and i've had too much caffeine. i'll probably delete this whole thing tomorrow cuz i tend to say really dumb things when i'm hyper. night. xo
posted by csx 9:06 PM
i haven't written here in a while. not much has gone on and i haven't been too motivated to write. jessie died on thursday and i miss her terribly. it's made me depressed and generally unmotivated. i think about her a lot and i'm just glad she was in my life. the world is doesn't feel quite the same without her in it. grover's chillin though. actually he's "taking care of business" right now. i bet he wishes he could have a bathroom of his own so that he could have a little privacy. i don't know why i'm writing this. i really don't have much to say. i feel like i have an obligation to write for my fans. heh. i give the people what they want. it's rainy and cold out. i'm going out to try to find tina liberty a present. i need to cut my hair. but i'm postponing everything until february cuz i'm close to broke right now. lame boring entry, i know. xox
posted by csx 11:23 AM

{Thursday, January 10, 2002}

so shay was running. it was dark and foggy and i have horrible night vision. i was running behind him but if he got much further, he would be out of my sight, even thought he was probably only 20 feet ahead of me, but like i said, horrible night vision. the cemetary has no lights in it, i can't express enough how dark it was. as i was running, the urban warrior in me kicked in (a little late) and i realized, "hey, i hardly know this kid, i don't trust him all that much and i'm running further into a huge cemetary where no one can hear my screams should he bring me as the sacrificial lamb to some creepy straightedge/vegan cult." in new york i usually have pepper spray or a knife with me, but cuz of airport security, i had to throw my pepper spray away. so it was just me and my fists of steel (which are really just fists of mostly bone, flesh and tendons, just like mike tyson). but luckily i didn't have to use them. we walked further into the cemetary up into hills. there were so many tombstones. it was a well kept cemetary and seemed to be a popular place to settle down cuz there was a lot of fresh dirt. sometimes we couldn't help but walk over the graves. there were noises and shay scares easily which got me scared too. but we walked hand in hand exploring the cemetary. it was such a big place but the whole time we were there we didn't see anyone else. i don't think there is that much space anywhere in the 5 bouroughs of new york, even in abandoned areas you'll see at least one other weirdo lurking around. we went to where the people are burried in what seem like giant drawers. it was a giant white open marble hallway. it had been raining that day so drips of water were echoing making it a perfect horror movie scene. but the longer we stayed there, the more at ease i felt and it turned from being a really creepy place to being really beautiful and serene...and still a little creepy. on one hill, there was one of those tombs that look like miniature chapels. we walked up to it and sat on the steps. we were directly in front of a narrow road that was bordered by giant leafless trees that arched over it. it looked like we were in old eastern europe, straight out of dracula. the moon was shining through the fog, only letting us make out shapes and some texture, but no color. we sat on the steps for a while and talked and hung out until we both had to pee really bad so we made our way out, safe and sound. the end.
posted by csx 12:36 PM

{Tuesday, January 08, 2002}

i did a search on that site...you know the one, don't make me say it. i searched for both boys and girls by their interest which i typed in "my trampoline" cuz i would really like a friend with a trampoline, but no luck. this is what my life has come to...i've said that so many times, "this is what my life has come to" and i'm always wrong, cuz THIS is what my life has come to. i'm too tired to write. is the suspense about the cemetary story killing you? i don't think anyone reads this, except for you foxy, and you already know what went on when i was out there. i wouldn't expect anyone to read it. in fact i think the idea of having an online journal is sort of obnoxious and narcissistic. but i'm totally a narcissist...and someone who has no clue how to spell it. do you know what i'm talking about? i'm not trying to say "narcotic". i'm not a narcotic. i'm trying to say nar sis sist. maybe i should just say "retard". it's way easier to spell and if you read this entry i'm sure you'll agree that it rings just as true. goodnight, sweet dreams. xoxo
posted by csx 8:54 PM
my bosses are away at a meeting and i forgot that i think i was supposed to go to. but i'm here instead. i drank espresso. it was $4 and really gross. they didn't have the raspberry (rasp pa berry. so ridiculous.) syrup, just almond. i'm looking for friends and i'm going about it in all the wrong ways. but i persevere (is that the right word?) cuz i'm not a quitter. i'm reading this book that is probably sort of "trash" cuz there's no big pretentious words and no long descriptions of the way the grass looks, smells and feels, but it's really exciting. there's lots of murders and sex. way better than descriptions of grass. i'm not trying to endorse this band cuz i think a couple of my friends have beef with them so i'm not gonna say who they are, but there's this one song that is so good cuz it sounds really punk (but i'm sure it's called art rock or math rock or some bullshit like that) but it's got this disco beat and it's so good to dance to. yessss. i gotta go cuz i'm not saying much. i'm gonna continue that cemetary story tonight.
posted by csx 8:43 AM