Blog posts.
In other news, my dad got me an early birthday present.... .. ladies and gentlemen, I now own my very own drill! Naturally he also got me a set of bits and assorted attachments. I am so stoked that now I can build things! I reckon my first project is going to be a loft for my place in Richmond. Oh boy, the butch in me is so excited! jkjk You don't have to be a butch in order to be a girl who like to build things, although I have heard it helps.
The wisdom teeth are out, obviously, seeing as how my brother egged me on in my state of slight sedation to write that last post. Anyway, it feels funny, sometimes bad. The blood has mostly stopped, but I still taste it once in a while. I think I might buy some baby food, which is kind of funny because my good friend, Myron got me the book What to Expect When You're Expecting for Christmas. No, I'm not pregnant, but accidents happen, right? That's how I got here. Although I do want kids someday, hopefully none of this is foreshadowing anything to come too soon, but I guess if I do end up with an unwanted spawn I can use the other present he gave me: a little bottle of yellow pills called Happy Pills (because life sucks). Oh, some people know me so well.
Blah, blah, blog.
Suck it with <3,
- Kim
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
if i wanted to talk to you this is what i might say
Here's another rant:
Don't talk to me. Don't tell me about your life plans, and don't ask me about mine. I thought that by now I'd be hearing something new from you, but no. You're still full of the same old shit from before. And that's fine - in a sense it's some form of stability. I can depend on you being so completely full of shit. You don't surprise me anymore. You tell me the same stories that I still don't care about. For someone who doesn't say anything worth hearing, you sure do talk a lot. But really, I'm glad that you finally "got your life together" for what the sixth time now? I've stopped counting.
Don't act like we have anything to say to one another. Time and time again I find out things you lied to me about. So don't be surprised when I want nothing to do with you. You're words are worthless. Don't ask me questions about this great life that I'm living, because I love it, and the last thing I want is for it to be tainted by the likes of you. You don't get to know who I am anymore.
P.S. Fuck you. And that's what I would say if I wanted to talk. My brothers won't talk you, either, you may not be able to talk after seeing them. They told me they didn't like you, and considering one of them has never met you, that says a lot.
That's right, folks, I just vented on my blog, and now I feel a lot better. But it might be because of drugs.
Don't talk to me. Don't tell me about your life plans, and don't ask me about mine. I thought that by now I'd be hearing something new from you, but no. You're still full of the same old shit from before. And that's fine - in a sense it's some form of stability. I can depend on you being so completely full of shit. You don't surprise me anymore. You tell me the same stories that I still don't care about. For someone who doesn't say anything worth hearing, you sure do talk a lot. But really, I'm glad that you finally "got your life together" for what the sixth time now? I've stopped counting.
Don't act like we have anything to say to one another. Time and time again I find out things you lied to me about. So don't be surprised when I want nothing to do with you. You're words are worthless. Don't ask me questions about this great life that I'm living, because I love it, and the last thing I want is for it to be tainted by the likes of you. You don't get to know who I am anymore.
P.S. Fuck you. And that's what I would say if I wanted to talk. My brothers won't talk you, either, you may not be able to talk after seeing them. They told me they didn't like you, and considering one of them has never met you, that says a lot.
That's right, folks, I just vented on my blog, and now I feel a lot better. But it might be because of drugs.
store ease
I've been spending lots of time with my grandma since she got laid off and I came home for winter. She's 76, so honestly, I was surprised that she was hired at all. Over the summer she was looking for work, and I remember her telling me that she had to fill out a certain number of applications in order to collect unemployment. She told me that she asked for an application at Wet Seal, but they told her that they were waiting for the "kids" to apply. One day my cousin and I went to Target and saw her standing alone in the parking lot. We asked her what she was doing, and she said that she and a friend went to look for jobs. Her friend had dropped her off at the Farm Fresh next door, and she was waiting for my uncle to pick her up. My cousin and I stayed with her till he came. This kind of broke my heart.
Anyone who knows me knows that in October I lost my granddad, my grandma's husband. This is also part of the reason I've been spending so much time with her. No one wants her to be alone, not even her. She told me she hates being alone and just cries all the time because all she does is think of my granddad. They were married for fifty-five years, and knew each other for maybe more than sixty; I'm not sure. When she is alone, though, she said she keeps it quiet and calls for him, begging him to talk to her. Since he passed away, some things have happened at their house that make us all think he's still there. I'm okay with it. I wish I was around when they happened. I wish I was around when everything happened.
She remembers the dates to every important event in her life. She's been telling me stories about everything. About how my granddad was a good man and did anything to help anyone. About how my great-grandmother didn't like him at first, but eventually took to him as her own son. About his heart attack twenty-some years ago and how it should have killed him. She showed me his coin collection, his states' information collection, and told me that he loved history - something I never knew.
The last time I was at her house, she could tell I was getting tired. She asked if I wanted to sleep in my granddad's chair. It was his chair, the one where he would always be sitting anytime I came over. He did everything in that chair, sat, watched tv, ate, slept, everything until Hospice gave him a hospital bed. I never got to see this, and part of me is glad. I had been wanting to sit in that chair for some time. I hadn't sat in it since we held prayers for him days after his funeral, two months ago.
Three weeks after he died, my brother called me from California telling me that our other granddad passed away. I felt like everything I was feeling had to be put on hold, because now here was this thing, this thing that had just happened to us. There were things to be done; it was all very methodical. I didn't get to go to the funeral. Tickets were to expensive for me to say good bye in person.
During a recent visit to my psychologist, he asked me about how I was dealing with everything. I explained that when I'm in school in Richmond, surrounded by things that have no connection to him it is easy to deal, repress, I didn't know which one. As soon as I felt like I was feeling something, I tried to think about something else. I tried to keep it all on pause. I told him that I knew that one day I would just cry and cry, and it was just something I had to do, but I didn't know when that would occur. An hour, a year.
When I sat in his chair, my grandma put a blanket over me and went upstairs to put away her laundry that we had just finished. I set it to recline, just as my granddad did many times before. I closed my eyes, began to cry, and fell asleep.
Un-pause.
Anyone who knows me knows that in October I lost my granddad, my grandma's husband. This is also part of the reason I've been spending so much time with her. No one wants her to be alone, not even her. She told me she hates being alone and just cries all the time because all she does is think of my granddad. They were married for fifty-five years, and knew each other for maybe more than sixty; I'm not sure. When she is alone, though, she said she keeps it quiet and calls for him, begging him to talk to her. Since he passed away, some things have happened at their house that make us all think he's still there. I'm okay with it. I wish I was around when they happened. I wish I was around when everything happened.
She remembers the dates to every important event in her life. She's been telling me stories about everything. About how my granddad was a good man and did anything to help anyone. About how my great-grandmother didn't like him at first, but eventually took to him as her own son. About his heart attack twenty-some years ago and how it should have killed him. She showed me his coin collection, his states' information collection, and told me that he loved history - something I never knew.
The last time I was at her house, she could tell I was getting tired. She asked if I wanted to sleep in my granddad's chair. It was his chair, the one where he would always be sitting anytime I came over. He did everything in that chair, sat, watched tv, ate, slept, everything until Hospice gave him a hospital bed. I never got to see this, and part of me is glad. I had been wanting to sit in that chair for some time. I hadn't sat in it since we held prayers for him days after his funeral, two months ago.
Three weeks after he died, my brother called me from California telling me that our other granddad passed away. I felt like everything I was feeling had to be put on hold, because now here was this thing, this thing that had just happened to us. There were things to be done; it was all very methodical. I didn't get to go to the funeral. Tickets were to expensive for me to say good bye in person.
During a recent visit to my psychologist, he asked me about how I was dealing with everything. I explained that when I'm in school in Richmond, surrounded by things that have no connection to him it is easy to deal, repress, I didn't know which one. As soon as I felt like I was feeling something, I tried to think about something else. I tried to keep it all on pause. I told him that I knew that one day I would just cry and cry, and it was just something I had to do, but I didn't know when that would occur. An hour, a year.
When I sat in his chair, my grandma put a blanket over me and went upstairs to put away her laundry that we had just finished. I set it to recline, just as my granddad did many times before. I closed my eyes, began to cry, and fell asleep.
Un-pause.
dream weaver (a reprise)
Lately I've been having dreams where people (not even people I know personally) surprise me in wonderful ways. One was with someone who I have seen less than a handful of times and have only spoken to twice...but if he asked me to marry him I'd probably say yes.
I was living in a darling city, sitting in a charming park. He walked out of a cafe to the left of the bench I was sitting on. I thought he saw me, but he didn't stop to say anything. Maybe he didn't see me. The last time we saw each other he told me I looked familiar (true story). So dream-me, which is essentially awake-me with probably less inhibition, assumed that if he ever saw me again he would say something. He continued walking about, and I continued hoping he would see me. Eventually he was out of sight.
Later, I was with friends laughing at something she said or something he did. I can't recall, but I specifically remember deciding not to tell anyone that I saw him. My phone rang, and a number I didn't recognize appeared. Wrong number, most likely. But I started to get nervous. I didn't want to answer it. I just wanted to know who was calling this, my number. I hit the green button, scrunched my brows and said, "Hello?"
"Kimberly."
"Yes?"
"It's [his name]. You never called."
"I didn't have your number."
"Yeah, I know, that's why I got yours." ...
And so on and so forth, we had a lovely conversation about nothing serious and made plans to hang out. It was all so very cute. Another dream I had was rather short and simple. Nothing with too much detail really sticks out in my mind. I was upset about something, and this person who I have met once or twice, and have only heard good things about, made me feel immensely better about the situation that I cannot seem to remember. They were very kind and caring for being mere acquaintances.
Maybe my dreams are telling me that I am hopeful. That's pretty broad, but maybe that's how it is. Maybe I'm hopeful about love, about human nature, about everything. Maybe I'm not as cynical as I, or anyone else thought... Then again, maybe these are just dreams because they'll never happen in real life so I have to fulfill this unsatisfied part of my thought process somewhere, so why not while I'm alone and unconscious?
I was living in a darling city, sitting in a charming park. He walked out of a cafe to the left of the bench I was sitting on. I thought he saw me, but he didn't stop to say anything. Maybe he didn't see me. The last time we saw each other he told me I looked familiar (true story). So dream-me, which is essentially awake-me with probably less inhibition, assumed that if he ever saw me again he would say something. He continued walking about, and I continued hoping he would see me. Eventually he was out of sight.
Later, I was with friends laughing at something she said or something he did. I can't recall, but I specifically remember deciding not to tell anyone that I saw him. My phone rang, and a number I didn't recognize appeared. Wrong number, most likely. But I started to get nervous. I didn't want to answer it. I just wanted to know who was calling this, my number. I hit the green button, scrunched my brows and said, "Hello?"
"Kimberly."
"Yes?"
"It's [his name]. You never called."
"I didn't have your number."
"Yeah, I know, that's why I got yours." ...
And so on and so forth, we had a lovely conversation about nothing serious and made plans to hang out. It was all so very cute. Another dream I had was rather short and simple. Nothing with too much detail really sticks out in my mind. I was upset about something, and this person who I have met once or twice, and have only heard good things about, made me feel immensely better about the situation that I cannot seem to remember. They were very kind and caring for being mere acquaintances.
Maybe my dreams are telling me that I am hopeful. That's pretty broad, but maybe that's how it is. Maybe I'm hopeful about love, about human nature, about everything. Maybe I'm not as cynical as I, or anyone else thought... Then again, maybe these are just dreams because they'll never happen in real life so I have to fulfill this unsatisfied part of my thought process somewhere, so why not while I'm alone and unconscious?
Saturday, December 13, 2008
You can't keep us out.
Cemetery.
Pyramid climbing. Fuck the Confederacy. Don't log roll.
Old Gym.
Exploring. Saw horses fucking. Sup. Hi!
Oh, adventures.
Pyramid climbing. Fuck the Confederacy. Don't log roll.
Old Gym.
Exploring. Saw horses fucking. Sup. Hi!
Oh, adventures.
Friday, December 12, 2008
no means no
I said no to going to New York.
I'm going to the beach to hang ten with my family.
My teeth still hurt, but I got some Vicodin for that. I'm a lucky girl.
Last night was fun. Yes. Yes, it was. So was the night before last. I love staying up till morning and talking. It's so very fun.
I like playing music even though about 89% of the time I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
I miss my family lots, but I'll see them soon.
I have to finish my poetry portfolio, so as soon as that's done I'll post some of that shit on here.
I'm hungry. Bye.
I'm going to the beach to hang ten with my family.
My teeth still hurt, but I got some Vicodin for that. I'm a lucky girl.
Last night was fun. Yes. Yes, it was. So was the night before last. I love staying up till morning and talking. It's so very fun.
I like playing music even though about 89% of the time I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
I miss my family lots, but I'll see them soon.
I have to finish my poetry portfolio, so as soon as that's done I'll post some of that shit on here.
I'm hungry. Bye.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
clash
Should I stay in Richmond for the weekend or go to New York?
Is that even a question?
In other news (this is where I write things that I wish I had the balls to say to people):
Ummm seriously, WHAT THE FUCK? You always talk about how you're so mature and shit, yet you do some pretty irresponsible things. I would care less if those things you did didn't affect me. Unfortunately, when you fuck up, I get fucked. I kind of hope you fall on your face and see how full of shit you are sometimes. Scratch that. I really hope you do. You're not always such a suckfest, but right now, I want to punch you in the throat a little.
This more than annoys me. Fuck you, dipshit.
Is that even a question?
In other news (this is where I write things that I wish I had the balls to say to people):
Ummm seriously, WHAT THE FUCK? You always talk about how you're so mature and shit, yet you do some pretty irresponsible things. I would care less if those things you did didn't affect me. Unfortunately, when you fuck up, I get fucked. I kind of hope you fall on your face and see how full of shit you are sometimes. Scratch that. I really hope you do. You're not always such a suckfest, but right now, I want to punch you in the throat a little.
This more than annoys me. Fuck you, dipshit.
why i only got two hours of sleep
My fucking teeth hurt. Yeah, I couldn't pass the fuck out because my wisdom teeth are crashing the party when the guest list in my mouth is limited to the teeth I already have. Mother fucking shit. It hurts. I'm supposed to get them taken out on the 29th, but that is only if I get clearance from my cardiologist. Apparently my heart isn't exactly normal or something, and there could be complications with putting me under, meaning I could accidentally get put down. Surgereeks!
I still feel sick from a couple weeks ago, not as bad though. My throat still hurts a little. Hope it's nothing serious. Hmm. Yeah.
I'm working on a final paper for theatre history. It's kind of a joke.
What else? What else?
Oh! Missed chances! Woe!
Although I do love winter, I can't wait for warmer weather so I can ride my bike downtown late at night without a million layers on. Ah, I miss that. I also miss dancing on tables. That will be remedied.
I turn 21 next month. I don't really know if it's going to change anything. We'll see. I'm having a big party. That should be fun. Don't really have any details planned out about it.
I'm growing a certain distaste for the behavior of some people. I don't know why some people try so hard. CHILL.
I had a dream that I was babysitting myself at the age of three. It was weird. I'll go into that some other time.
I am so addicted to streetbonersandtvcarnage.com. Their radio stuff is so insanely legit. I want to pump it in my veins. I want to eat it, poop it out, and fertilize a garden with it. That is how good it is. Trust me.
Okay, so I'm ready peace out of here. I say that a lot. I mean it. I want to move so bad! Ah, in due time. Hopefully everything goes as planned, and I can graduate next winter. I must get out of here. College is swell and all, but I think I'm over it.
Good morning and goodbye.
I still feel sick from a couple weeks ago, not as bad though. My throat still hurts a little. Hope it's nothing serious. Hmm. Yeah.
I'm working on a final paper for theatre history. It's kind of a joke.
What else? What else?
Oh! Missed chances! Woe!
Although I do love winter, I can't wait for warmer weather so I can ride my bike downtown late at night without a million layers on. Ah, I miss that. I also miss dancing on tables. That will be remedied.
I turn 21 next month. I don't really know if it's going to change anything. We'll see. I'm having a big party. That should be fun. Don't really have any details planned out about it.
I'm growing a certain distaste for the behavior of some people. I don't know why some people try so hard. CHILL.
I had a dream that I was babysitting myself at the age of three. It was weird. I'll go into that some other time.
I am so addicted to streetbonersandtvcarnage.com. Their radio stuff is so insanely legit. I want to pump it in my veins. I want to eat it, poop it out, and fertilize a garden with it. That is how good it is. Trust me.
Okay, so I'm ready peace out of here. I say that a lot. I mean it. I want to move so bad! Ah, in due time. Hopefully everything goes as planned, and I can graduate next winter. I must get out of here. College is swell and all, but I think I'm over it.
Good morning and goodbye.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Check out The Small is Beautiful
Seriously, insanely legit. Go to www.thesmallisbeautiful.com right now. Go this very instant. Just click the title of this post. Why are you still on my page? GO! Then come back and read this, but only if you want.
Here is my response to the blog about dancing by The Small is Beautiful, found at:
http://www.thesmallisbeautiful.com/2008_12_01_archive.html
Just read the blog.. . I can say that I do share in the frustration of the lack of dancing at shows. Generally my friends and I are those "weirdos" going nuts. Over the summer I was at the Islands show in Norfolk, and there were maybe seven (slight exaggeration) of us going ape-shit. Some strangers came over and said it looked like I was having a good time, and they felt weird wherever they were standing before because no one was dancing. So we joined forces trying to get as many others to start dancing, to very little avail. It's not right. Though it's not necessarily wrong; I mean hey, you buy the ticket - do whatever you want. But I just don't get it. How can you just stand in the midst of amazing live music and not literally be moved?
Furthermore, I think dancing at shows is a major thing that people can do to show respect and gratitude to the people playing them. They're putting their stuff out there, and I doubt they want the response to be a bunch of crossed arms and poker faces dressed in whatever the front window mannequin at American Apparel or H&M is wearing (I'm not trying to hate on either of these places - both of which I have shopped at - but I am hating on the people who steal their style from a faceless plastic body). Having a good time isn't "too cool," or rather it shouldn't be considered such. It's okay to show emotion in a crowd of strangers. It's okay to dance in front of them too, because honestly, you probably won't see them ever again.. .and in most cases it's too dark to see anyone's face, so go ahead, dance the night away.
The thing I think is kind of crazy is that the places I see the most dancing are the smaller scale shows, the ones in galleries and houses, the ones where a donation of a buck gets you in and graciously thanked. It's probably due to the atmosphere. I don't know. The reason I think it's crazy is that the "bigger" shows, the ones where oftentimes a pretty penny is dropped just to get in the door, and let's not forget the lovely not-too-little fees they tag on -- well, those are the ones with the least dancing. So what, are people just paying to look bored in front of their favorite bands? That's silly. When a band plays, wherever, whenever, just dance.
By the end of the Islands show, I was up front dancing up a storm, slamming my fists on the stage, and being gawked at by the guy next to me, who had both arms wrapped around his lady friend. He looked at me like I was crazy. But I thought the girl he was holding was the crazy one, allowing herself to be so contained while standing in the presence of live music that incredible. All I can say is don't ever try to hold me during a show. You might get hurt.
* * * * *
As for the accessibility of music, it's definitely an interesting thing. I don't know anyone who looks to the radio or a specific television music channel to get the goods on what's out there. I feel like people either find what they like on their own, or through other people, and I like that. I like that the whole act of finding good music seems less monopolized. Maybe that's too strong of a word, I don't know. I don't doubt that MTV had its glory days, and that there still are those few radio stations that are worth keeping on one of the memory keys. But I think that now, with more people talking about music, making music, and listening to music, well I don't think there's really a comparison. It says a lot when music is shared from person to person, even if it's one person telling another to go to this website or that. Some people talk about how the use of technology limits human interaction and such, and how it's a way for people to not deal with other people. But I mean come on, it also acts as a bridge. Hey, it brought us all to this forum, right?
Here is my response to the blog about dancing by The Small is Beautiful, found at:
http://www.thesmallisbeautiful.com/2008_12_01_archive.html
Just read the blog.. . I can say that I do share in the frustration of the lack of dancing at shows. Generally my friends and I are those "weirdos" going nuts. Over the summer I was at the Islands show in Norfolk, and there were maybe seven (slight exaggeration) of us going ape-shit. Some strangers came over and said it looked like I was having a good time, and they felt weird wherever they were standing before because no one was dancing. So we joined forces trying to get as many others to start dancing, to very little avail. It's not right. Though it's not necessarily wrong; I mean hey, you buy the ticket - do whatever you want. But I just don't get it. How can you just stand in the midst of amazing live music and not literally be moved?
Furthermore, I think dancing at shows is a major thing that people can do to show respect and gratitude to the people playing them. They're putting their stuff out there, and I doubt they want the response to be a bunch of crossed arms and poker faces dressed in whatever the front window mannequin at American Apparel or H&M is wearing (I'm not trying to hate on either of these places - both of which I have shopped at - but I am hating on the people who steal their style from a faceless plastic body). Having a good time isn't "too cool," or rather it shouldn't be considered such. It's okay to show emotion in a crowd of strangers. It's okay to dance in front of them too, because honestly, you probably won't see them ever again.. .and in most cases it's too dark to see anyone's face, so go ahead, dance the night away.
The thing I think is kind of crazy is that the places I see the most dancing are the smaller scale shows, the ones in galleries and houses, the ones where a donation of a buck gets you in and graciously thanked. It's probably due to the atmosphere. I don't know. The reason I think it's crazy is that the "bigger" shows, the ones where oftentimes a pretty penny is dropped just to get in the door, and let's not forget the lovely not-too-little fees they tag on -- well, those are the ones with the least dancing. So what, are people just paying to look bored in front of their favorite bands? That's silly. When a band plays, wherever, whenever, just dance.
By the end of the Islands show, I was up front dancing up a storm, slamming my fists on the stage, and being gawked at by the guy next to me, who had both arms wrapped around his lady friend. He looked at me like I was crazy. But I thought the girl he was holding was the crazy one, allowing herself to be so contained while standing in the presence of live music that incredible. All I can say is don't ever try to hold me during a show. You might get hurt.
* * * * *
As for the accessibility of music, it's definitely an interesting thing. I don't know anyone who looks to the radio or a specific television music channel to get the goods on what's out there. I feel like people either find what they like on their own, or through other people, and I like that. I like that the whole act of finding good music seems less monopolized. Maybe that's too strong of a word, I don't know. I don't doubt that MTV had its glory days, and that there still are those few radio stations that are worth keeping on one of the memory keys. But I think that now, with more people talking about music, making music, and listening to music, well I don't think there's really a comparison. It says a lot when music is shared from person to person, even if it's one person telling another to go to this website or that. Some people talk about how the use of technology limits human interaction and such, and how it's a way for people to not deal with other people. But I mean come on, it also acts as a bridge. Hey, it brought us all to this forum, right?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
These waves won't carry me anywhere, and these roads give no direction
I'm still at the beach (VB), not exactly the beach, but my house in VB, fifteen minutes from the beach. Ah. I got really sick last week on Tuesday, actually. But I took some meds and felt better. Feeling better, I decided to go to Jarhead and Marzipan's house to play the drums. IT'S SO AWESOME!!!! Then I woke up Wednesday morning feeling a little bit dead. Since then, I have been puking my brains out. I've come to the conclusion that it must be my brains I'm puking out because I haven't been eating anything, really. A cracker here and there. Maybe it's all the pill capsules. In any case, with the help of modern medicine and insurance, I am on some drugs that have made my throat stop feeling as though it's closing. I can talk almost normally again, but I have these crazy nose bleeds. Consequently, I've stopped spitting up blood for the most part. And I think that's where I'm going to stop talking about the sickly week I've been having.
I knew that the holidays would suck because Granddad is gone. Well, I missed Thanksgiving. I was alone in the house while everyone went to my tita's. I missed seeing my cousin who came up from Atlanta, and I haven't seen her in quite sometime. So, I guess I was right. Holidays blow.
I find myself thinking about my granddad more and more. And it makes me sad, very very sad. But I know there's nothing to help it; it's just something I have to feel.
I always thought he would just be there forever. I pictured bringing my kids to his house, him showing them his vegetable gardens. Now, whenever I do have kids, I'll have to tell them about him. And I'm afraid that I won't say all that should be said. What if I forget things?
I knew that the holidays would suck because Granddad is gone. Well, I missed Thanksgiving. I was alone in the house while everyone went to my tita's. I missed seeing my cousin who came up from Atlanta, and I haven't seen her in quite sometime. So, I guess I was right. Holidays blow.
I find myself thinking about my granddad more and more. And it makes me sad, very very sad. But I know there's nothing to help it; it's just something I have to feel.
I always thought he would just be there forever. I pictured bringing my kids to his house, him showing them his vegetable gardens. Now, whenever I do have kids, I'll have to tell them about him. And I'm afraid that I won't say all that should be said. What if I forget things?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
no more with feeling
Things so fleeting
Without feeling
Can be so freeing
Joelle knows what's up.
Here's my toast to us.
Without feeling
Can be so freeing
Joelle knows what's up.
Here's my toast to us.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Guessing is Better Than Tommy Hilfucker
There is a long list of things that I've done that at one point or another I said I would never do. I guess I'm human. I guess I lie. I guess I'm a hypocrite. And I guess I'm okay with that.
I had an idea of how I would feel after certain situations, and none of them were right. The surprises were nice. I don't think I'm losing myself, which of course is a good thing. I do, however, feel that perhaps I don't know myself as well as I had thought. And something about that is really lovely. Something about that excites me.
So next time we cross paths, let's drink to our failing livers and off-beat hearts.
I had an idea of how I would feel after certain situations, and none of them were right. The surprises were nice. I don't think I'm losing myself, which of course is a good thing. I do, however, feel that perhaps I don't know myself as well as I had thought. And something about that is really lovely. Something about that excites me.
So next time we cross paths, let's drink to our failing livers and off-beat hearts.
Friday, November 21, 2008
sometimes i suck
Left the beach this morning to make it in time for class. I guess I could have showed up late, but I didn't. And I also didn't finish my five-page paper that was due this morning. I make bad decisions sometimes, and I really suck today. I went to visit my granddad before I got on the road. Is that even correct to say? --That I went to visit him? Or is it his grave, or both, I don't know what to call it. I feel weird saying I went to visit him. But I did. So I started the day in tears.
Since my granddad and my lolo died, there have been at least three more deaths either from our family, or close friends' families. It hasn't even been two months. My brain hurts.
Found out my family is pretty broke after the funeral expenses and a number of monetary issues. I'm trying to pay for as much as I can and not burden my parents with anything. I'm trying to graduate early. I think that's the biggest way I can help -- not fuck up, and get out of school as fast as I can. Hopefully I don't fail the class I'm missing today. I really need the credit. I'm trying to sell the accessories and clothes I make. It's kind of my dream to never have a "regular job" ever again, but still be able to support myself and those I care about, or at least help them out from time to time. My brain is throbbing. I think I'm stressed.
Don't get me wrong; I'm still really excited about everything and the future and all that. I've just hit a rough patch. That's all. Once this semester is over I'll have time to breathe. Maybe the break will help me accept everything. I mean I know it probably won't, but maybe. I don't think I'll be okay with things about my granddad for a while, but that's just the way things go.
So in other words: I'm sick of crying. I'm over this semester. I need a job. Today I suck, but tomorrow I'll try to be better.
Since my granddad and my lolo died, there have been at least three more deaths either from our family, or close friends' families. It hasn't even been two months. My brain hurts.
Found out my family is pretty broke after the funeral expenses and a number of monetary issues. I'm trying to pay for as much as I can and not burden my parents with anything. I'm trying to graduate early. I think that's the biggest way I can help -- not fuck up, and get out of school as fast as I can. Hopefully I don't fail the class I'm missing today. I really need the credit. I'm trying to sell the accessories and clothes I make. It's kind of my dream to never have a "regular job" ever again, but still be able to support myself and those I care about, or at least help them out from time to time. My brain is throbbing. I think I'm stressed.
Don't get me wrong; I'm still really excited about everything and the future and all that. I've just hit a rough patch. That's all. Once this semester is over I'll have time to breathe. Maybe the break will help me accept everything. I mean I know it probably won't, but maybe. I don't think I'll be okay with things about my granddad for a while, but that's just the way things go.
So in other words: I'm sick of crying. I'm over this semester. I need a job. Today I suck, but tomorrow I'll try to be better.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
It's going to be a rough day. I miss you terribly.
I had a dream last night that I went to a water park, which turned into a giant dance party. I remember going there with two girls and a guy. The guy had a towel on the lower half of his face when I beckoned him to come over. I pulled the towel off his face and kissed him. I'm assuming this guy was my boyfriend in the dream, but I don't know who he is in real life. He kind of looked like this one guy I sort of know, but it could be someone completely different. In fact, it would be weird if it were that guy, because I don't really get those likey vibes with him. Whatever it's a dream. I'll continue.
So, I kiss him, and he smiles and says that I took off his towel so now the medicine won't stay on. I forgot, I say. Then I get a bitter taste in my mouth and spit into a trashcan. The medicine, I presume. I tell him to come whisper with with me, and we walk over to one of those things on the playground where you whisper on one end and the person hears you on the other. He said hi. I said hey. Yes, it was all so very cute. After that we went upstairs.
I think that's when it turned into the dance party. There was an abundance of people, and it kind of freaked me out. At the top of the stairs, were my grandma, my granddad (mom's side), my cousin, my uncle, my granddad's brother and his wife. The party started getting crazy; the cops came, and everyone was rushing to get out. I could see that the mass amount of bodies moving towards and around us was making my granddad feel uncomfortable. There were some chairs near us, so I pushed them against a wall and sat him and everyone else down. I figured it would calm him. Someone in our group said we should move towards the door, but I knew that he didn't want that.
I told my cousin to get the car and bring it around. Everyone went with her, and another huge group of party people decided it was also their time to go. So it was just me and Granddad left. We moved over to a long bench that was a cushion seat instead of a hard one. We talked for a bit, and I turned around. When I turned back around he was laying on his side, facing away from me. I called his name, nothing. I put my arms around him and started crying. He asked me why I was crying. I said because, and asked him why he had to go.
He either said, because I had to, or you know why. I think it was the latter. I can't remember, but whatever he said, it sounded like his voice was put through one of those voice distortion mechanisms. It creeped me out. I sat up and so did he. I put my arm in his and my head on his shoulder.
There are a million moments that I can't write about right now.
So, I kiss him, and he smiles and says that I took off his towel so now the medicine won't stay on. I forgot, I say. Then I get a bitter taste in my mouth and spit into a trashcan. The medicine, I presume. I tell him to come whisper with with me, and we walk over to one of those things on the playground where you whisper on one end and the person hears you on the other. He said hi. I said hey. Yes, it was all so very cute. After that we went upstairs.
I think that's when it turned into the dance party. There was an abundance of people, and it kind of freaked me out. At the top of the stairs, were my grandma, my granddad (mom's side), my cousin, my uncle, my granddad's brother and his wife. The party started getting crazy; the cops came, and everyone was rushing to get out. I could see that the mass amount of bodies moving towards and around us was making my granddad feel uncomfortable. There were some chairs near us, so I pushed them against a wall and sat him and everyone else down. I figured it would calm him. Someone in our group said we should move towards the door, but I knew that he didn't want that.
I told my cousin to get the car and bring it around. Everyone went with her, and another huge group of party people decided it was also their time to go. So it was just me and Granddad left. We moved over to a long bench that was a cushion seat instead of a hard one. We talked for a bit, and I turned around. When I turned back around he was laying on his side, facing away from me. I called his name, nothing. I put my arms around him and started crying. He asked me why I was crying. I said because, and asked him why he had to go.
He either said, because I had to, or you know why. I think it was the latter. I can't remember, but whatever he said, it sounded like his voice was put through one of those voice distortion mechanisms. It creeped me out. I sat up and so did he. I put my arm in his and my head on his shoulder.
There are a million moments that I can't write about right now.
* * *
Wednesday marks the fortieth day of his passing. I'll be going home to attend a mass for him. I still don't want to believe that he's gone. Today is the funeral for my other granddad, Lolo Fidel. I wish I could have been there more before he got sick.
I'm still really excited about a lot of things going on, but it just hurts to know that Granddad won't be here to share some of those things. I can still tell him as many stories as I want, but I won't see that smile, or he makes when he's shocked at something I did or said. I won't hear him laugh.
The last time I saw him, he was still in the hospital, a couple of weeks before he passed away. I was getting ready to drive back to Richmond. I think I gave him a hug. I hope I did. I usually did when I left. I told him I would see him in a few weeks. He said, okay, see you. And he smiled a smile that made me think he was going to be just fine.
I'm still really excited about a lot of things going on, but it just hurts to know that Granddad won't be here to share some of those things. I can still tell him as many stories as I want, but I won't see that smile, or he makes when he's shocked at something I did or said. I won't hear him laugh.
The last time I saw him, he was still in the hospital, a couple of weeks before he passed away. I was getting ready to drive back to Richmond. I think I gave him a hug. I hope I did. I usually did when I left. I told him I would see him in a few weeks. He said, okay, see you. And he smiled a smile that made me think he was going to be just fine.
* * *
I think about him constantly, and my heart is broken far beyond any stupid boy could break it. But I'm trying to be okay with this. It's hard. I have days when I'm at peace with things and can look back fondly. I have days when I think it's really fucked up for the universe to will such an awful occurrence. Today, I guess I'm just kind of sad.
Good morning.
Good morning.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
everything in the world
I've decided that I am going to change lots of things in my life. I want it to be better, so I'm going to make it better right now. It would be silly to wait. I've wasted a lot of time and money thus far -- most of which wasn't mine. That should stop, and I should go make those changes.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
round 2. go.
on october 11, 2008, my granddad on my mom's side passed away.
on november 3, 2008, my granddad on my dad's side passed away.
2008 is an earth year, and maybe this is proof.
i don't know how to process this one. i don't know who or what i'm crying for anymore. i guess i'm crying for all of it - for everything that happened and for everything that won't happen.
i feel so removed and disconnected.
yesterday was the first time i went to my granddad's grave by myself. i haven't spoken to him much since he passed. but yesterday i felt like i had to, and so i did. it was strange being there, knowing that the last time i saw him was at that spot, him laying in his coffin, rosary wrapped around his fingers, cold. i don't like to think that his body is right there, in some box when i visit him.
tickets to california are too expensive right now, and with paying for one funeral, i don't think my parents can pay for all of us to go to the other one. it sucks. even though i wasn't as close with my dad's dad as i was with my mom's, he was still a part of my family, and i would like to be there.
this is all so very draining. sometimes, i think i could fall asleep walking. and then i wake up.
on november 3, 2008, my granddad on my dad's side passed away.
2008 is an earth year, and maybe this is proof.
i don't know how to process this one. i don't know who or what i'm crying for anymore. i guess i'm crying for all of it - for everything that happened and for everything that won't happen.
i feel so removed and disconnected.
yesterday was the first time i went to my granddad's grave by myself. i haven't spoken to him much since he passed. but yesterday i felt like i had to, and so i did. it was strange being there, knowing that the last time i saw him was at that spot, him laying in his coffin, rosary wrapped around his fingers, cold. i don't like to think that his body is right there, in some box when i visit him.
tickets to california are too expensive right now, and with paying for one funeral, i don't think my parents can pay for all of us to go to the other one. it sucks. even though i wasn't as close with my dad's dad as i was with my mom's, he was still a part of my family, and i would like to be there.
this is all so very draining. sometimes, i think i could fall asleep walking. and then i wake up.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
trashcans
a week ago today, i saw my grandfather for the first time after he passed away. for a week i forgot that places outside of the funeral home, my home, my grandmother's home, the church, and the memorial grounds existed. now i'm back at school, feeling something. i don't know what. hurt, maybe. i can't get it through my head that i'm not going to see this person again. i feel like everything is wrong right now. i'm glad he isn't suffering anymore, but still. i wish there was a way that things would have turned out differently, better.
when i think about the funeral, i can't help but hear my grandma's crying. her screaming or wailing. it kills me. the night before the funeral she came into my room, and told me not to cry because he's in a better place. she told me how he died and said that if i had seen him i would have understood. she told me she was scared of being alone in the house because she knew all she would do was think about him.
he raised me, and he was one of my best friends. we had an eggplant garden that i loved dearly - maybe more in memory. in it's place now, are bricks laid down for a path and two trashcans, one for recycling.
when i think about the funeral, i can't help but hear my grandma's crying. her screaming or wailing. it kills me. the night before the funeral she came into my room, and told me not to cry because he's in a better place. she told me how he died and said that if i had seen him i would have understood. she told me she was scared of being alone in the house because she knew all she would do was think about him.
he raised me, and he was one of my best friends. we had an eggplant garden that i loved dearly - maybe more in memory. in it's place now, are bricks laid down for a path and two trashcans, one for recycling.
Friday, September 12, 2008
things fall apart, and it really fucking sucks.
so after a not so great day, my mom called me with some bad news. my granddad is in the hospital again. he's coughing up blood. he's not doing well. i don't know if they know if it's his cancer that has gotten worse or something else. i'm going home this weekend. i don't know what else to do.
i didn't wanna go to sleep, which is probably why i'm getting in and writing this past 2 in the morning. i went on a really long bike ride with a friend. we rode downtown then towards carytown before his bike chain went to pieces.
seems as though everything is falling apart. i don't really know what else to say other than i'm pissed, and i hate that this is happening. i hate it so fucking much. i hate that i'm not back home right now, and i hate that even when i was it wasn't enough.
i don't want to go to sleep.
i didn't wanna go to sleep, which is probably why i'm getting in and writing this past 2 in the morning. i went on a really long bike ride with a friend. we rode downtown then towards carytown before his bike chain went to pieces.
seems as though everything is falling apart. i don't really know what else to say other than i'm pissed, and i hate that this is happening. i hate it so fucking much. i hate that i'm not back home right now, and i hate that even when i was it wasn't enough.
i don't want to go to sleep.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
projects for the near and dear future
i plan on taking matilda - the dog - out to poop and tinkle.
i'm working on some presents for people, mostly friendship bracelets and special letters and what not.
i'm tinkering with putting beads into my friendship bracelets. i think i've come up with a method that i really like. we'll see.
auditions.
writing more.
reading more.
selling out.
sewing curtains.
making pillows.
decorating my room that i'm finally done rearranging.
and i think i'm done buying baskets. i have around 14. i think that's plenty, maybe even borderline obsessive.
oh! i'm riding my new bike... well it's not a new bike, but it's new to me. i like it lots. very lightweight boy's frame so i can lug it up and down the stairs to our house. it has three water bottle holders for some reason; i use one for my crayon shaped thermos, but the other two are coming off as soon as i get the right tool for them. also, it has one of those generator lights that only works in the dark. so when i peddle in the wee small hours of the morning i can find my drunken path just fine!
i want to make a movie. so i'm going to do that.
i think matilda has fallen asleep on my lap just now. she does that a lot. wait, she's not asleep. she just licked my armpit. weird.
brooklyn next month. oh fuck yes. i miss my babies.
i want to get so busy that i don't even have time for this blog. well maybe not that busy, but pretty close.
i'm working on some presents for people, mostly friendship bracelets and special letters and what not.
i'm tinkering with putting beads into my friendship bracelets. i think i've come up with a method that i really like. we'll see.
auditions.
writing more.
reading more.
selling out.
sewing curtains.
making pillows.
decorating my room that i'm finally done rearranging.
and i think i'm done buying baskets. i have around 14. i think that's plenty, maybe even borderline obsessive.
oh! i'm riding my new bike... well it's not a new bike, but it's new to me. i like it lots. very lightweight boy's frame so i can lug it up and down the stairs to our house. it has three water bottle holders for some reason; i use one for my crayon shaped thermos, but the other two are coming off as soon as i get the right tool for them. also, it has one of those generator lights that only works in the dark. so when i peddle in the wee small hours of the morning i can find my drunken path just fine!
i want to make a movie. so i'm going to do that.
i think matilda has fallen asleep on my lap just now. she does that a lot. wait, she's not asleep. she just licked my armpit. weird.
brooklyn next month. oh fuck yes. i miss my babies.
i want to get so busy that i don't even have time for this blog. well maybe not that busy, but pretty close.
team spirit
we got shot down
trying to shoot up
so they made us piss
in a paper cup
so that we could take one for the team
we shook hands
with the president
went to church
so as to repent
and lit a candle for the rest of the team
they took pictures
they framed us
they made an example out of us
because we were the only ones left
trying to shoot up
so they made us piss
in a paper cup
so that we could take one for the team
we shook hands
with the president
went to church
so as to repent
and lit a candle for the rest of the team
they took pictures
they framed us
they made an example out of us
because we were the only ones left
Monday, August 11, 2008
sever
some things make me feel sick.
it's strange that people are capable of the things they do and that those things are capable of evoking certain emotions.
it's weird when people have power over other people.
i'm moving soon, and it couldn't be a better time to do so.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
let's make this home a house and sell it for gas money
I just got really excited about the future. And about right now, because isn't that what it is? ...in essence...
Learning new things. Creating new things. Picking up things I never should have put down. And such and such.
I can't wait to go back to Richmond (never thought I'd say that), and be back in school. I guess this higher education thing really agrees with me.
Also, I'm rather elated about living with a darling bunch of gals.
***
Many moons ago whilst still in Richmond, I did a painting on a small panel. I really liked the idea, but not so much my execution. The painting involved nachos, bowls, and a question that at the time I was dying to ask someone. So I redid it on a bigger panel, and I am pretty happy with it; although there is still definitely room for improvement. I think I might do it again and post a picture of it. Oh, archetypal three, maybe it really will be magic.
***
Some Stuff in My Brain:
words-
Ugh, I Need A Hug
Let's Make This Home a House and Sell it for Gas Money
Written response to fortune cookie fortunes
threads-
cloth napkins
underwear
bedding
yoga mat carriers
backpacks and messenger bags
anything that can be put on a body
other-
i need a job.
i'd like a 40.
i wanna go to super duper roundhouse kick ass show.
spells
the UNIVERSE
i like lists.
and i'd like to redo that robot, too. gosh. yeah.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
not so classy after all
so i'm reconsidering posting some things from my creative non-fiction class. here's the thing. i've used names. i don't know who is going to end up reading any of this or if anyone will at all, but the last thing i want is for someone to think that i shared a part of them that they didn't want me to. i'm thinking that unless i talk with the people i wrote about, i'm going to feel like a total shady mcshaderson if i just post it all.
furthermore, since writing those pieces almost one year ago, a lot has changed. so putting those up now makes me feel kind of uncomfortable and nauseous. i've been thinking about taking the assignments and reworking them or writing new pieces, but i haven't made up my mind completely.
regardless, since i've picked up english for my double major i'm going to be taking a fuck load of writing courses and literature courses (go figure, right?) so i shall be posting much about all those things.
i really wanted to write about that dream that had me waking up crying, but i feel like the circumstances within the dream are entirely too close to me right now, so sorry no juicy details about such an emotional slumber.
furthermore, since writing those pieces almost one year ago, a lot has changed. so putting those up now makes me feel kind of uncomfortable and nauseous. i've been thinking about taking the assignments and reworking them or writing new pieces, but i haven't made up my mind completely.
regardless, since i've picked up english for my double major i'm going to be taking a fuck load of writing courses and literature courses (go figure, right?) so i shall be posting much about all those things.
i really wanted to write about that dream that had me waking up crying, but i feel like the circumstances within the dream are entirely too close to me right now, so sorry no juicy details about such an emotional slumber.
6:19 AM
i woke up crying.
bad dream. sad dream. sometimes people are just really uncaring and cold. sometimes people say things they don't mean. sometimes people say things they do mean, but then change their minds. and sometimes people genuinely want to hurt you. that's the way the cookie crumbles. that's the way worlds fall apart.
c'est la vie.
bad dream. sad dream. sometimes people are just really uncaring and cold. sometimes people say things they don't mean. sometimes people say things they do mean, but then change their minds. and sometimes people genuinely want to hurt you. that's the way the cookie crumbles. that's the way worlds fall apart.
c'est la vie.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Class Baby
i reckon i'm going to post some things i wrote for a creative non-fiction class i took last fall.
in other news, i'm thinking about going into drama therapy. it could be cool. unfortunately there aren't many schools which offer it specifically at the graduate level. there's one in canada. nyu also has a program. we shall see. we shall see indeed.
in other news, i'm thinking about going into drama therapy. it could be cool. unfortunately there aren't many schools which offer it specifically at the graduate level. there's one in canada. nyu also has a program. we shall see. we shall see indeed.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
dream lover come rescue me
a few nights ago i had a dream starring the lead singer of one of my favorite bands. i was attending an experimental play at a shoddy looking theatre - which i of course found incredibly charming. we had to go up a ladder escape to get in. i don't remember what the play was about, but i remember that it made my bones feel good. at the end of the play, the director and producers came out on stage and did a bunch of thank yous and what not. although i don't think there were any flowers, how refreshing. the last person they thanked was said singer of one of my favorite bands. i was absolutely shocked, but knew it just had to make sense since i felt that the music spoke to me more than any of the words of the production.
jump to the parking lot: my mother, one of my brothers, some friends, and myself were walking out to the tour bus that we apparently took to see the play. the whole time i was trying to figure out if all that music was pre-recorded or if said singer of one of my favorite bands was actually there in the flesh. i turned around and saw him coming out of the theatre, locking the door behind him.
without a thought i started walking back toward the theatre. i introduced myself, telling him that we had actually met at a show earlier in the month, which is true - he said he remembered, which i had hoped. the next few exchanges were me asking him questions about side projects and him answering me in borderline rude responses. i told him that if i was keeping him from something he was more than welcome to leave. he told me i was fine. not in the way in which one is trying to holla, but in the you're-okay-don't-worry kind of way, but maybe with less assurance.
i looked at him. he looked down. i said: so, when did you break up?
his eyes started to water. he looked up: how did you know?
i can see your heart is broken.
i felt an urge to comfort him, almost as if it was my duty, and i think i did. because well, he looked comforted. for a few moments two people who had next to nothing to do with each other needed nothing more than each other.
jump to the parking lot: my mother, one of my brothers, some friends, and myself were walking out to the tour bus that we apparently took to see the play. the whole time i was trying to figure out if all that music was pre-recorded or if said singer of one of my favorite bands was actually there in the flesh. i turned around and saw him coming out of the theatre, locking the door behind him.
without a thought i started walking back toward the theatre. i introduced myself, telling him that we had actually met at a show earlier in the month, which is true - he said he remembered, which i had hoped. the next few exchanges were me asking him questions about side projects and him answering me in borderline rude responses. i told him that if i was keeping him from something he was more than welcome to leave. he told me i was fine. not in the way in which one is trying to holla, but in the you're-okay-don't-worry kind of way, but maybe with less assurance.
i looked at him. he looked down. i said: so, when did you break up?
his eyes started to water. he looked up: how did you know?
i can see your heart is broken.
i felt an urge to comfort him, almost as if it was my duty, and i think i did. because well, he looked comforted. for a few moments two people who had next to nothing to do with each other needed nothing more than each other.
and so a seed is planted. i'm sewing seeds. yeah.
anytime i put something out there that came from in here i get really nervous. luckily i've been prescribed some great muscle relaxers and can now handle really putting stuff out there. okay, that's a lie. they suck and are too weak. kicking that wall, not being able to walk, and getting the vicodin really upped my standards. anyway, like my darling friend macky, i am tired of that folder called "awesome shit" or "shit in progress" or anything that more or less meant "stuff i wanna keep to work on in the future or think about in the future but don't really know what to do with right now." and so, here it is, a garden of my shit, but in internet land, we'll call it the eggplant garden. may it grow forever.
p.s. this whole thing may end up to be nothing at all like the aforementioned. i lie. don't hate me.
p.s. this whole thing may end up to be nothing at all like the aforementioned. i lie. don't hate me.
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