Thursday, August 27, 2009

Diet Salt

Now with half the water retention capabilities as pure, reactive, explosive upon contact with H2O sodium!

Wotan sneezed in my eyeball. Great. Now I'm probably going to get cat flu.

Got a card from cousins, nearly two months after I sent them a note. No mention of illness, which drives me absolutely insane with worry, and with guilt knowing that they handle these things in a Very Greenfield Manner. No one mentions anything, everything overheard or second-hand: hearing of surgeries successes and failures through conversations with clerks, the death of the matriarch outside of Diversions. I don't know how I'll be able to keep this correspondance without outright asking, so I'm focusing on picking out stationary rather than words.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Right, a title. Tuesday!

Got incredibly drunk with Merissa, the kind of drunk where you end up lying on the kitchen floor waiting for the room to stop moving and the lights to change colors and your friend to stop giving you dirty looks every time you mosey into the living room. It made me feel like a freshman. Or a sophomore. Or, ok, yes, a junior.

There was a moment that I wanted to write about from last night, but I cannot for the life of me remember it.

Woke up this morning. Drank a sip of cold tea that turned into frantic gulps. I'm still thirsty.

The other day, at rehearsal, the skinny boy in shorts too short told me that I was what he remembered most about the skit last year, "I was sitting right here" as he points to a spot near the una corde pedal, "and I just remember thinking about how awesome you were." I smile, awkwardly, lips too tightly stretched across my face, but I was so flattered I blushed.

I could say more, but I have to clean cat shit and bubble wrap off of my porch.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?

Not that we've even talked since she told me she was in rehab again, but I have reasons to believe V hasn't kept sober. I mean, there were always reasons to believe that she wouldn't, but I was really hoping that all of these things would be her rock bottom. It really makes me sad, all of these things that I have to keep on telling myself are beyond my control.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

10 day countdown

Goals to achieve before my 21st birthday: not care about people/boys/things that are so clearly not worth the slightest bit of consideration on my part, unpack my room, achieve peace in the Middle East. There are more, but those are the top three.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009


Today Kaity told me that she wished for a nice Christian boy for me, to "really treat you right."

My goysche mum crosses her fingers for one of the Chosen People.

My Catholic best friend tells me he considers himself "chosen," and that he's nerdy and circumcised.

I spent the afternoon getting "kitty kisses," which, unbelievably, must be said in that baby tone, no exceptions, from Wotan.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009


I need to stop classifying everything, everyone, in my life as win or lose. Sometimes-usually, I guess-it's neither.

Wotan pooped one of my roomate's beds.

Less than two weeks until I see my closest friends, turn 21.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Friday Morning

After rolling over and staring at a different wall for the umpteenth time this night, not really ever falling asleep, I heard a message on my computer ding. It could only be one person.

Want latkas?
In August?
I'm not traditional.

We talk for a little bit. I can't really say about what anymore. Trivial. I showered and drove over there, each red light that stopped me coinciding with another hike in my anxiety level.

I have a guest, I've got to go. He's on the phone as he slides open the door. Hey.
Hey. I take off my sweater, cross my arms, and retain this position for nearly an hour as we clean, shred, search for spices. The latkes are too salty for my liking. I'm too quiet for my liking. I say I'm Sorry too much for my liking. It's ok, he says each time. I feed him a strawberry.

We're looking at pictures. I move some stuff off of his bed. Books catch my eye, as they always seem to do at his place. Anne Rice. Marquis de Sade. Kama Sutra.
Don't look there. He says something to that effect. Jokingly. A black satin sheet underneath the fleece and the book. I adjust the book cover on the de Sade. Open up the Sutra.
No, don't actually do that. Serious now. Humiliation handling de Sade, how appropriate. Another apology. I notice a woman's purse off to the side.
I have to go get my laundry. I look around at the piles of clean clothing on his bed.
Ok, yea, I have to go too.

The nurse takes my blood pressure. Looks down, hums, jots something down. Is this high?
Yea. I've had a weird morning.
She looks up, waits. Quiet.
Well, I just got a cat.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Sunday Best

Got a cat today. I was actually planning on getting a tattoo, but got distracted by Woofstock, an animal adoption festival held on campus. Walking around the field was like going to Baby Gap while ovulating. An hour later, I walked out with a ginger kitten that I am calling Wotan, God of Fire, Light, Air, and God of the Gods.

In other news, I have no idea why I continue to surround myself with guys that do not care. I will now shower all of my affection onto this cat. What could possibly go wrong?

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Later, Friday

This is probably one time in my life that I wish I had been drunker. Well, there are a few times that I wish alcohol could have played a factor in erasing embarassing memories the next day. But I wish I could say I was drunker last night, and that's why I don't remember writing the post below. But I wasn't. But I was so upset, and I couldn't figure out why.

I kept on having the worst flashbacks today. Sitting upright at the edge of my chair unable to avoid hands. The tearing apart of my life as I knew it, from so many different angles. And even things that didn't bother me at the time. A kilt, a tattoo, being told how pretty I was in ways that flattered me years ago, that I don't even care about anymore.

I feel like anything I do that isn't cutting off all ties with everyone I knew before 2003 will be a poor choice.

Barely Friday, I guess

And this post is sponsered by the fucking similarities between the words "Fremde" and "Freunde." Fuck you.

I haven't been this angry without being able to pinpoint it in awhile. I mean, I know what's wrong. But I feel like I'm 15 again.

This could be due to the time I've spent with a friend from that period in my life. Half of the time we talked, jokingly, as 20-something women do. The other half were painful reminders of my past, that I don't think she knows make me self conscious.

She did, however, admit some doubt. Have I really won over all these years? Funny my side as a neutral, hurt, scorned bystander played such a part.

Didn't say anything to her, despite many near-misses and quick covers.

"Oh, not a priest, I was just kidding! Speaking of that, my friend's getting ordained!"

"Oh, I don't know how big his dick is. I just happened to see an unrelated, uncut, pierced penis in recent times."

"Oh really? I'm attracted to tall skinny guys TOO!"

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Thursday, August 06

When flying home on Tuesday, as soon as we reached cruising altitude again I was smothered by the seat in front of me. I spent an hour and a half staring at his male pattern baldness and debating spitting bits of Chex Mix into his hair.

"Wow, he's really in your space, isn't he?" The woman across from me looks like the photo on the back cover of my book. I'm tempted to ask her if she's the author I like.
"Ugh. Yea. When I came out here, a toddler was sitting fully reclined in front of me. I mean toddler, legs didn't reach the end of the seat."

Later I see her reading a bible, pocket-sized. Why do bibles always have onionskin pages? I know they're large books, but you'd think they'd make them sturdy, if one's supposed to read and study it. I decide it's probably not her.

"Rick and Steve'' is my new favorite show to watch on Netflix. Which is good, since I've watched all four seasons of "The Office" so many times.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009


Bought ground coffee today, if only to pretend to be a functioning 20-something (technically I guess the something isn't until later this month, but oh well). Went shopping at Mom's (note: my aunt used to tell my mum that they should "shop at Sid and Elaine's) and found an old French press on top of the dryer. The thick layer of dust on the box invited me to take it back to the Pink Powerhaus. Only had heavy cream, which formed a thick film on top of my drink. I didn't notice this until I peeled it off with a spoon.

Monday, August 3, 2009

In Chicago

In Tacoma, most days I go hours without being near another human being. One knowing my history might not think that’s the best idea, but [nothing I wrote here makes me sound any less crazy, so use this space to pretend I mentioned something really crazy, like eating toothpaste sandwiches or shaving neighborhood cats]. Since then, I told myself I should throw myself into groups of people and stop caring, which partially worked while abroad. Now I’ve made a complete turn around: I wake up, and either go to work on the slowest days of the week where hours pass without a customer, or knit by myself for a few hours, taking breaks to sit outside and read. I’ve slept alone for three weeks.

When taken from this setting and thrown into a conference of 800+, all musical, all women for godssake, when I’ve never been a huge fan of xx without a decent amount of xy, it’s quite an adjustment that I did not anywhere near make.

I love being with my cousins. They are the kind of family I’d like to have someday.

I don’t, however, like being forced to think about what I’m going to do once I grow up, which should happen sometime mid-May. I wonder if I actually want to do what I say I do, or continue to stay in an environment like the one I’ve adjusted to these past years and am reluctant to leave.