Where are all the good men dead?

Just Killing Time

Sat, 16 Dec 2006 16:12:41 GMT

Livejournal is a relic, properly dubbed antiquitous for myself.
While packing I found hundreds of pages of printed out journals, starting several years ago when I first attempted to delete this thing.

This morning I'll be moving into the new place.
Neither Tiana nor Anng will be home today, so I'll play the music light and constant, windows open to keep my spirits from dropping.
I don't really trust my emotions with moves.

Time is spilling forth and slipping away so fast right now.
I move, I unpack.
Tomorrow I study like hell.
Monday and Tuesday I try to keep As in my two hardest courses by not bombing finals.
Wednesday I regain some sanity and go to work.
Thursday I go to Sacramento for the dinner party, and try not to let regained sanity fly out the window.
After Sac, it's Christmas, New Years, working, settling, starting school again....

Thank whatever God may be for keeping me pleasantly busy.

Everyone settle down, settle down, settle down...

Sun, 10 Dec 2006 19:31:40 GMT

...As I am trying to do.
Granted I drank away untold amounts of money last night, woke up at a friend's house in the Mission with a jaw sore enough for day-after-drugs- except that I know I didn't do any- and my trusty umbrella that has lasted me through a winter without faltering now lost to some lucky drunk at Casanova.

Yet.
I see things falling in place all around me.
I want to settle, to slow, to find a good man and stop seeking myself in all that is clandestine.
Yesterday I got a new computer.
I have good friends.
A new job that I love.
A new apartment.
My college applications are in.
My finances are under control.

I have been waiting for this mental change of direction.
Ever since Sean and I broke up I have been totally aware of my own path to self-destruction, riding it out while frantically praying that it would change soon.
I suppose eight months wasn't "soon", but I am still alive and well, and now I see the wheels turning again.
I am simply relieved.

Christmas Wish List II

Wed, 29 Nov 2006 17:47:40 GMT

As I did last year, so I shall do again. Things have changed exponentially since last Christmas- all of which I have mixed emotions about. I usually savour the holiday to the very last drop of Baileys and egg-nog, but this year I feel reluctant and wish the New Year would visit me sooner. Nonetheless, if something has not changed, it is my status as a tight-budgeted student unable to worry about the frivolous things I adore and desire until Christmas roles around. Hence, the following...

A repeat, because my bottle from D.F., MX has all but ran out and one cannot possibly survive without her signature scent.

This is the only image remotely close to what I want that I could find, so if you get this for me you are a god. The one my mom had when I was a wee lass though was simply glass with neon water gel in it that rocked back and forth and made ocean wave sounds.

As the tresses get longer, my laziness grows. Help me regain some composure.

How have I made it this far without a polaroid camera? The hipster points lost cannot be regained without shame, whoa is me, but I'm ready to jump on the bandwagon and stop wasting Tiana's film.

Now all things music:

Just provide me with an Amoeba gift card. Lack of downloading abilities on this godforsaken computer has left me with innumerous music wants spanning a good six months.

Para la voz.

And for true frivolity.

I could go on, but I am starting to feel awfully materialistic.
Le fin.

These things so quickly change.

Thu, 07 Sep 2006 05:02:53 GMT

(x) been drunk
(x) smoked pot
(x) kissed a member of the opposite sex
(x) kissed a member of the same sex
(x how about my mom's?) crashed a friend's car
( ) been to japan
(x) ridden in a taxi
(x) been in love
(x) had sex in public
(x) been dumped
(x) shoplifted
(_) been fired
(1/x) been in a fist fight
(_) had a threesome
(x) snuck out of your parent's house
(_) been caught masturbating
(x) peed on myself
(_) had sex with a member of the same sex
(1/x) been arrested
(x) made out with a stranger
(x) stole something from my job
(_) celebrated new years in time square
(x) gone on a blind date
(x) lied to a friend
(_) had a crush on a teacher
(_) celebrated mardi-gras in new orleans
(_) been to europe
(x) skipped school
(_) slept with a co-worker
(_) had sex at the office
(x) had sex in a car
(_) been married
(_) gotten divorced
(_) had children
(x) lash out irrationally
(x) went to the movies just to make out in the backrow
(_) Had sex with a stripper.
(x) stayed on the phone all night
(x) pulled an all-nighter 2 nights in a row
(x) Called someone a racial term
(x) Gave a lapdance
(_) Smoked crack
(x) watched a porn
(_) Hooked up with a friend's boyfriend/girlfriend
(x) Went to work still drunk from the night before
(x) Made a "home video"
(_) had a bat mitzvah
(x) been high on life
(x) peed in the pool
(x) taken nude pics of myself
(_) Been swordfighting with real swords
(_) danced on the bar
(x) had a one night stand
(x) thrown up after sex (i was drunk)
(_) been caught by partners dad
(x) slept naked
(x) gotten lost in your city
(x) saw a shooting star
(x) been to any other countries besides yours
(x) had a serious surgery
(x) gone out in public in your pajamas
(x) kissed a stranger
(x) hugged a stranger
(x) done drugs
(x) pushed all the buttons on an elevator
(x) made out in an elevator
(x) swore at your parents
(x) kicked a guy where it hurts.
(x) been to a casino
(_) been skydiving
(_) broken a bone
(x) been high
(x) skinny-dipped
(x) flashed someone
(x) saw a therapist
(x) played spin the bottle
(_) gotten stitches
(_) drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour
(x) bitten someone
(_) been to Niagara Falls
(x) gotten the chicken pox
(_) crashed into a friend's car
(x) ever had a crush on someone of the same sex
(x) had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
(_) Been to Africa
(x) Driven over 400 miles in one day
(x) Been to Canada
(x) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
(x) Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show
(x) Thrown up in a bar
(x) Eaten Sushi
(_) Been snowboarding
(x) Been Skiing
(x) Met someone in person from the internet
(_) Been to a moto cross show
(_) lost a child
(x) gone to college
(_) graduated college
(x) done hard drugs
(x) taken painkillers
(1/x think so) had someone cheat on you
(x) love someone or miss someone right now
(x) had a crush on someone you shouldn't
(ha ha 1/x) fucked up school cause of a problem with weed?
(x) own an ipod
(x) own an mp3 player
(1/x) fancy someone on your friend list
(x) been on a rollercoaster
(x) rode a horse
(x) made out with someone in the back of a taxi
(x) broken something in a fit of rage
(_) gone bungee-cording
(x) gotten sick from drinking

I am slowly settling my life in the Mission.
School, work, volunteer field work, living...in a month or so I hope to have it all settled.
There may be a homeless person living in our laundry room. No good.

C'est la vie?

Sat, 02 Sep 2006 03:33:08 GMT

It is amazing how quickly things can change.
I have, in the course of three days, lost two of my best friends, and as of half an hour ago seemingly lost my band as well.
I have tried not to panic and to only remain clear-minded.

I am twenty years-old.
Life is transient.
I will always meet and lose friends, and with every lost one to such crude endings as this I only learn to appreciate more and more the close friends I have who are honest, loyal, intelligent, compassionate and truly beautiful people.
I will always meet and lose musicians- moreso perhaps than friends what with the level of fickleness present in most artistic people. I have a lot to learn about music as I can see from the four months with these fellows, and will only keep playing and keep getting better until I am ready to make something truly valid and worthwhile.

Until then, I have a four-track given to me by somebody who once believed in me and I will never forget that when I think to give up and retreat within myself forever more.

How Very Overdue

Wed, 16 Aug 2006 00:34:02 GMT

I've combined two installments of photos, one long overdue, and have finally gathered enough energy to pull myself from my lethargic nocturnal-behavior induced haze in order to post them.
I had so very many things to do as a far off memory of a list made in more productive times reminds me, but opted for sleeping in, happily taking on random weekend excursions and drinking every night since returning from Mexico some month passed.
Alas, school starts tomorrow and that list lays untouched, tucked between the pages of a book which I had also meant to read somewhere.

Political graffiti in Oaxaca far surpasses the wayward scratchings we San Franciscans are burdened with on buses and street corners.

The city reminded those of us from rural towns and states of a curious rendition to fond memories- I sometimes saw Anchorage in Oaxaca as others recalled parts of Montana and Spain.

Southern Mexico could give a rats ass about accommodating tourists. Restaurants have menus in Spanish and if you wish to have any questions answered, you had better speak Spanish yourself, because no one who can help you fucking does. Amate books was the one, overpriced exception to the rule- an English bookstore guarded by a fantastic skeleton.

I tried my hardest to avoid the isolation of being a tourist, but my skin alone made that impossible, and so I eventually caved in almost entirely.

My sanctuary, in fact, was our veranda. I wrote many a horrid song and learned many a cuss word from the kids playing futbol below while smoking.

I hate this fucking bird.

Tajido Azul is like weed. Very mesmerizing and mind-numbing.

Series of "Oaxaca is beautiful" photographs...

I lost five pounds in Mexico. This makes no sense whatsoever in relation to my eating and drinking habits. Sopa Azteca is heavenly.

While my trip provided me with many experiences, adding sex on a roof and street-corner in a foreign country to my list of interesting places, I also witnessed a bout of political rest so insatiably open and fickle that I had to check myself when engaging in heated conversations with teachers and communist (but more likely stalinist) students in the zocalo.

Ever been accosted by a man in a ski mask holding a six foot steel pole blocking a fifteen foot barricade and forced to be escorted home? I have!

Protests and their counter-protests.

I want to visit Monte Alban in my dreams every night, and have on occasion been determined enough to successfully do so.

Matt and I somehow pulled together a rapidly unraveling surprise with lots of coffee, sweat and determination. In the end, Diana had no clue, the Pirate's of the Caribbean theme song blared, water balloon fights between our ship and their raft ensued, she hung the pirate flag and took a triumphant dive into the lake.

This included the stocking up of provisions- mainly mass amounts of food, cake and a giant supply of rum and Fat Tire.

Birthday girl.

My costume was lame, but I, unlike the other girls, was working my ass off to put this thing together while they figured out their get-ups and distracted Diana all day.

The lake.

Left ashore after failed anchoring attempts by a drunken staff of pathetic pirates on day two. After this dance parties, naming of found beaches and an incredible Decemberists sing-along took place.

You know, I have witnessed and even received some very lovely presents and surprises from people before, but Travis just screwed every guy that knows the twenty of us involved in this over for a life-time, because there is no way in hell that someone could top a pirate weekend on a lake with your best friends. Damn you Travis, if only it had been me...and a different guy...or never happened so potentially it could have happened...ah, fuck.

Le Fin.

You know a good piece of clothing goes a long way, don't let the anti-materialists tell you otherwise. I borrowed a fantastic jacket from Diana yesterday and it landed me a free cigarette, a date and possibly a job, not to mention the luck of a free drink later in the evening, free cab ride with Fabinho and free weed.

Also Gremlins is ridiculous when you are twenty years old.

You give me strange looks.

Sun, 23 Jul 2006 19:09:50 GMT

I suppose I should eventually update this creature of sorts.
Home-resituation felt rather anti-climactic.
I can clearly see, as can others, that a heavier weight dropped some innumerable miles south of here.

Fabuloid is closing.
I am heartbroken.
Schuyler is going to keep me working so long as he has work for me to do, but the looming reality is that this stint with employment perfection is coming to a halt.
Yesterday I was sitting on a huge cushion by the door, Fat Tire in one hand, Lucky Strike resting between the fingers of the other, talking with two Dutch persons while the bubble machine sent a whirlwind of bubbles spiraling down to the sizzling sidewalk around me and I realized how fucking good I have it here.

Last night's band practice was magical.
And I say assuredly that it would have been so even without the mushroom stems.
After a handful of rather unproductive practices, we produced three song skeletons last night, and they are all fucking incredible.

After that though my night plummeted downhill.
At one point I really thought Denis was going to have to call an ambulance- twice really.
I think I need to slow down, wise up, ease up.

I've customers to tend to and an incredible rest of the summer to smile about.
Ciao.

Of Love and Shadows

Tue, 20 Jun 2006 17:47:55 GMT

Sacramento has changed for me.
I walked past my old house- it looks so different.
I could hardly fathom the years of my life spent in this new, hideously painted building with no hedges, no rose bushes, no blooming flowers or crystals hanging in the stark, front window.
I spent the weekend largely as I had said I would- in Sacramento while avoiding Sacramento.
And for good reason it seems: the only by-chance encounter I had with someone led to them shoving unwanted drama and inappropriate information down my throat.
Aside from this unpleasant ten minutes Friday night, I cannot say I did not enjoy myself- I managed to smoke far too many packs of cigarettes, which speaks largely to my mood- but it was a worthwhile trip.
I cannot imagine, however, feeling any need to go back any time soon.

Images:

Despite the heat, I had the decency to at least feign put-togetherness- Sarah felt no need to hide her discontentment.

The boys claimed this to be as it should always be: the women, barefoot, in dresses, cooking in the kitchen. Bastards.

Well known fact: I never try my hand at cooking, therefore I simply assume I cannot cook. I did however help make some fantastic sweet potato chips.

After an amazing barbecued meal, massive amounts of alcohol, dancing, 2a.m. swimming, music making and such on Saturday, Sunday followed with an even better feast of BBQ chicken, potatoes, grilled veggies, asparagus spears wrapped in bacon, icecream, coffee, cupcakes, futbol, etc...

...And the highlight of my weekend, the smallest creature to ever own my heart, a now five-month old Taylor Paton...

She is the exception to my falling in love rule.
Aside from her, I must say I have found it surprisingly easy to do that which others have always done before me, but I never thought myself capable of. I thought I could never act as such being the hopeless romantic that I was. Ha.

Alas, alas, much to do in these few hours before trekking over to Guitar Center.
High heels will be in my bag, for the Elbow Room calls Linsay, Diana and I for samba and more Brazilians than one could handle.
Ciao.

A Public Announcement

Wed, 07 Jun 2006 21:03:48 GMT

It seems as if old drama never dies, so to speak, and the wake from one hell of a boat that plowed through my life several years ago is still in motion.
It is humorous that the parties affected- myself and two others primarily- all are displaced from the epicenter of drama, i.e. Sacramento. I, in San Francisco, the other two hundreds of more miles away, and yet here comes a merry reunion via the lunatic concoctions of some poor soul's depraved mind.

I would have rather brushed this off, save for one inconvenience;
It seems secondly that a fake myspace account may have been made for me.
I haven't done any investigating, and don't plan on it.
But- if someone could be so kind as to pass this message along to persons whom, if contacted, could be caused unnecessary drama.
Primarily Sean.
I don't want to and definitely don't need to come home halfway through next month after spending a lovely time abroad only to find angry messages from all sorts of friends, old lovers and ex-boyfriends who were messaged by "me".

Enough of all that.
Writing it out makes me feel three years younger.
Now if you could excuse me, I am going to go have a good vomit and then smoke a cigarette so as to remind myself this is surreal and therefore unreal.

Placid with Pills and Poetry...

Fri, 02 Jun 2006 01:40:41 GMT

I take on addictions,
like lovers near and dear to me
Then break the habit surreptitiously-
puts the fear of God in me.

He and I take cigarette breaks
when sex is through;
He'll never get the heartfelt lectures
I once constructed for you.
(Je ne peux pas decider si c'est une honte.
Ou pas.
Je ne peux pas, peux pas.)

I hate my newest obsession
in keeping a wary eye
on the evolution
of my heart's own disenchantment.

I found a little red notebook long forgotten and tucked away, in which much of my old songs were written out, that I had feared were lost forever when Sean recorded over them on my mini-disc recorder.
I am torn between work at present- attempting to preserve older music and things that I write which I know will never make it into the band's repertoire and passionately, greedily scribbling out every lunatic thought or sticking phrase that comes to mind in hopes of compiling worthwhile lyrics and lingering melodies.
Everyone keeps asking what our name is. We remain nameless and I don't mind.
Someone asked what my geisha's name was yesterday. I could only tell them that she has one, but I cannot say it. I do not speak Russian, and have never felt the need to ask Denis what it was he named her, if he even can slip his hand into the thick cloud of that hallucinogen-altered evening and retrieve it.
Moving is disorienting.
Disenchantment of the heart rivals any force of blow from life's other disappointments. I am marking its progress carefully and meticulously. I do not find it depressing, perhaps only necessary. Much akin to shooting a rabid dog. Some things you love dearly but can not deter from hurting you nor any longer control. Even the memories of an idealistic time warp under the strain of complication and heavy-handed hurting. And is it not the nature of the beast to destroy, suppress or otherwise discard of that which we can no longer foresee any benefit from within ourselves?
My friends stare at me with maddeningly sad eyes when I say it, but
I do not want to search men's faces and smiles for anything but possible friendship.
I do not want to tap into the right words, gestures or moments for sake of spine-tingling memory.
I do not want complication, only the continuum of unimportant sex and a secret place in some nobody's arms for artificial comfort, de temps en temps.
Most of all I do not want to fall in love.
Not for a very, very long while.

'Cause it's not all beer and skittles...

Wed, 24 May 2006 20:26:51 GMT

Life is indeed looking up.

Yesterday I purposefully failed my English class by writing a poem and a short explanation to my teacher instead of the in-class, 800-word essay that I was supposed to write.
Every time Denis and I play with Ryan we come home feeling like we are on top of the world.
If music is my life and my one true love, and my musical endeavors are going better than even I had hoped for, than my heart's happiness surely follows.
I have further perpetuated my self-stereotype with latino men. Oh have I ever.
I have spent the majority of the last few days out until ungodly hours and sleeping in half-way through the day, doing so without the guilt or panic at having wasted time like I usually get.
Last night I learned how to samba and, if all goes well, I'll get to show off my new skills at Carnaval with a date who actually knows what he is doing.
One more final, then my mind goes forward to moving, music, Oaxaca, further improving my new life.

When I get a moment to myself, I still have to be careful what music I play or where I let my mind go, but truthfully I am smiling more and more every day that builds on me.

You know, I have been scared to say it, but I am a lot happier single.

Update + Job Status

Sun, 30 Apr 2006 09:00:11 GMT

As a post-script to my last entry, I've also a welt on my forehead and the absolutely ugliest paper cuts one could ever lay eyes on.

Let me say a few words on the new place of work- thus far (yes, I am still here), I've played Black Mountain, Rasputina and Sleater-Kinney, sat in a 1930's school-desk smoking cloves, drinking red-bull and vodkas, eating pastries and hassling people for money, got doubley high and spaced out to a burlesque dollhouse skit, followed by a male pogo-stick stripper, bartended for many an hour, perhaps found a drummer, showed off some photosets and set up some photosets.

That leaves me here.

Tue, 04 Apr 2006 06:27:26 GMT

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about the battle that goes
on inside people.

He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed,
arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride,
superiority, and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility,
kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and
faith."

The grandson thought about this for a moment and then asked his
grandfather, "Which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee simply replied,"The one you feed."