(no subject)

question: am i still naked if i'm wearing a belt?

i wondered this when i was sixteen and bewildered by the large number of people that walked by, totally naked except for an accessory, like a tie or a belt, and a parasol.

apparently, i have never resolved this issue.

xo
v

so exactly how necessary is a couch?

are couches really necessary?

on the way home today, i noticed that the roads traveling under the transition from the 10w to the 5n are transposed. like, the carpool lanes are on the wrong side. i think i only noticed this because i only got 2.5 hours of sleep last night. but it got me thinking, hey! we ought to have wacky traffic day. like, we'll all pretend we're british and drive on the left and talk in funny accents when we yell at people who're driving on the right side of the road. ooh. and no one is allowed to make a right turn. they just have to keep making lefts until they get in the right direction. oooooook. maybe not.

so i'm looking at my couch. and realizing. the only thing it's good for is setting things on it. the cats sleep on it a lot. every once in a while, i sit on it to watch a movie. but other than that, it's kinda big and kinda commands more attention than it deserves. so. being that my house is uber (and i mean uber in the double-dot sense) small, and has practically no closet space, i had a loft-bed built for me, and using spreader bars and a bit of ropework, i managed to build a closet under my bed.

so. i'm thinking. perhaps. i should replace the couch with another loft-bed. then i could still be comfy for movies and stuff, and be able to set up music stuffs underneath. or maybe i could replace it with a kiddie pool... anything would be better than a couch. are couches really necessary? i mean, is it totally unreasonable to have a living room with no couch? is that taking things too far?

i should just move. really.

so if you know, or know someone who knows, of a loft space in say... arts district, little tokyo, fashion district, downtown, westside, hollyweird, or perhaps noho, for say... $1 / square foot or less... drop me a line. i'd like to move sometime around november. 15 foot ceilings, air conditioning or with the right windows to install air conditioning, drive-in parking. and kitties.

bunches of new pixtures!

yay! my friend gia got her boy, floyd, to take pictures of us last week and he already gave me a cd with the finished images and the originals and omg i don't even have to spend days photoshopping them. i love him!

here's some of them. i haven't decided which ones i'm gonna use.











edited to add: haha, i just realized it looks like a bunch of avatars.
  • Current Mood
    bouncy bouncy

it's rough being a fallen superhero

i used to really believe i could save the world. when i was little, i thought i possessed super human powers. i would save girls from boys that would do them harm. my favorite triumph was when i beat up a third grader. i was the smallest girl in first grade. but that didn't matter. he stole a ball from some girls and was teasing them with it. i reenacted a scene from she-ra. i said, "wanna dance?" and i took his wrists and spun around, then punched him with an uppercut to the diaphragm. he actually came up off the ground and landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. pleased, i handed the girls their ball back and walked away.

it was a difficult lesson to discover that i can't save the world.

(sometimes i forget and have to relearn that lesson)

(i forgot again tonight)

after work, pho0ka and i stopped by dungeon. as we were leaving, a guy starting screaming at this girl, calling her and asshole and generally being a psycho. he pushed her and threw her stuff on the ground. she was crying and cowering. i told the boy to wait; i wanted to make sure he didn't hit her. a crowd of people gathered. prolly about 20 people.

then i was like, wtf? why are we all waiting for him to hit her before we do something? does she need a concussion before we're willing to help? so i walked right up to her, put my hand on her arm, and quietly asked if she needed a safe ride home. she wouldn't look at me. she just tried to wipe the tears. he answered for her. he screamed that he was her safe ride home and she just looked down.

there was nothing i could do, and i just had to accept that. i was angry and sad.

i ran into industry_kitty, who had joined the crowd and was worried about her, too. i told her i was afraid he was gonna hit her when they got home. "he will. he'll prolly hit her in the car on the way, too." but what can you do? you can only help people when they're ready to be helped.

but it's hard sometimes.
  • Current Mood
    sad sad

(no subject)

so it looks like it will be miss kitty's tonight. nothing special going on, so it will prolly be dead and lame, but hey, how often do i go out on friday night?


edanya and i are looking to get drunk and cause trouble. i'll be expecting some embarrassing pictures on the site next week so i can vaguely remember how i was peer pressured into humiliating myself for the amusement of others. i suppose i should wear something appropriate for nearly naked twister... mmmhhhmm...

my car is broken still. i just haven't cared enough to attempt to fix it.

hopefully, someone will give me a ride home.

hopefully, the home won't be mine :O

(no subject)

///begin transmission:

date: 08.09.04


dear car,

go to hell.

yours truly,

veronica

::end transmission||||||

i need a mechanic that makes housecalls.

or perhaps a team of gnomes that fix my car while i sleep.


...and in other, somewhat more pleasant news...


:::::::::::::::
:::bondage ball:::
::07.30.04::
.:.
.



Read more...Collapse )

(no subject)

just got back from perversion. it's neat, not going to a club in forever, and seeing all the new faces in a familiar context.

i've been really noncommittal about school lately, and it's starting to upset the people around me that care. i wish it didn't bother them. it's like, i'm already set to graduate cum laude no matter what grades i get in these classes, and i'm too busy to care about the things they teach that i'll never need to know. school used to be my escape, a luxury i allowed myself. now that i'm so busy, it's just a nuisance. my teacher talked to me after class. he mentioned that since i was an hour late, i missed a lot. "oh, trust me, i didn't miss a thing." he stared blankly until he realized it was a joke - well, kind of.

my waist spontaneously shrunk. i have not lost any weight in the last few months, yet my waist has shrunk from 24 to 23 inches. 23! wow. at this rate, it won't be long before i can cinch to 16 inches. that is so disgusting. why am i fascinated by making myself look grotesque? just another novelty, i guess. because i can do it and most people can't.

i got a new cell phone. comment if you want the number. i would post it, but people are weird, y'know?

i'm sitting here in my bra and panties, fishnets, and boots. i tore my dress off in a panic. it was choking me. or maybe i drank too much. lol.

so. bondage ball is next friday, and you should go. bondageball.com. (i'll be there)

miss you all.

xo

veronica.

my high school yearbook picture

"MOST LIKELY TO SUCCEED"

...in being a royal fuck-up...


i've decided this is my senior year picture. i never had one taken. never got the yearbook, never went to prom, didn't bother to walk at graduation. i always hated yearbooks because you're supposed to have people sign them. not many people signed my yearbook. i tried to hide it from all the people i didn't like. which was most people. they were stupid, superficial, boring. there was always something wrong with anyone i met. except the boys. i had so many crushes. didn't really date much, though. all the boys i liked didn't seem to notice. most of my friends were boys. boys that had crushes on me that never told me but i knew and pretended not to notice because i wasn't interested but they made great friends. hung on every word i said. i loved being adored. still do.

after high school, one of the boys i'd had a crush on in high school told me he'd had a crush on me. i had no idea. he said he was afraid to tell me. that i was unapproachable. really i think i was just shy. proud? aloof? whatever. i named off a bunch of other boys he had been friends with that i'd had crushes on at some point. they'd all had crushes on me, too. how i'd suffered! so alone. and so needlessly. and have i learned from this? not hardly. i still find myself wrapped in a hundred teenage crushes that last for months and months and never go anywhere. my heart breaks a thousand times a day and no one ever notices.

school is almost over. finals next week. so much stress this quarter. over soon. two weeks' break. five classes to go. then what? already i've been trying to fill up my time off from school with "stuff" so i won't have to go through the shock of having so much time alone with my thoughts after being so busy.

i need to escape. leave the country for a while. i feel trapped. settled. i feel like i've become who i'm going to be and i'm just not ready for that. i don't even know who i am. i have a thousand lives yet to live. i want to be someone else. somewhere else. everyone, everywhere. there are so many things to do, places to go, things to see, to learn, thoughts that have not yet crossed my mind. i grow old, quietly in a small cottage in the middle of a colorful ghetto that's got character but it's smelly and dangerous. my potential wanes in the in this hell that slowly came to a boil and i didn't notice until it was too late. my skills atrophy with each day. skills? who am i kidding? i don't even have any hobbies. i know nothing about myself. i don't know what i like to do for fun, what kind of music i listen to, what my favorite movies are, or even my favorite color. i'd be useless in writing my own obituary. (even if i weren't dead.) i keep thinking that in the future, i'll figure out who i am. when? tomorrow? next year?

in high school, i thought i'd be dead by now. i wanted to be a shooting star. brilliant, streaking across the night sky for all to see, and suddenly disappearing. i wanted to be wildly successful, famous, an inspiration, and die before i watched myself fade. i'm the only person i've ever known that tossed pennies into the well at thunder mountain (disneyland) and wished to die young in a car accident. that wish never came true, and now i'm old, and i have to deal with it. my little sister wants to die. she is so young, she has so much potential, but she doesn't see that. i'm terrified she will grow old like me and have nothing to show for it because she never found her passion. where is my passion? how do i find it? is there a systematic research process for its discovery? will it find me? does it reveal itself when the time is right? does it come as an encoded message, a metaphor in a crumpled gum wrapper in the alley?

i'm really digging on the modelling hobby. it feels so wonderful to have my makeup all done up, to be transformed into someone else's vision. i get to be whoever they want me to be. and maybe i'll discover i like one of those people and that's who i'll become. regardless, it's exhausting and envigorating at the same time, which is an awesome feeling. being on this side of the fence has been nice for a change, but it's been renewing my passion for photography, which is a very good thing, but also a very expensive thing.

i got a digital slr, and those accessories you kind of need, like a drive to download the photos, and a bag to protect it, and a memory card, and a lens, and... *sigh* now i want a lighting kit so i can finally begin to understand that esoteric art that makes me love those people that really seem to get it. which reminds me, my "yearbook" photo was taken by marla rutherford, by far one of the most incredible photographers i've ever met. her stuff isn't the most flattering; i don't expect her to make me look like a flawless superstar like some other people seem to be capable of. but hot damn, woman creates whole worlds... the feeling you get from it... it's like you're spying on someone, getting a peek into their world when they aren't looking... she's gonna be an icon... if she chooses. and wow, she's gorgeous, friendly, energetic, wears fetishy stuffs, and doesn't have a crazy ego.

so lighting. yeah. i need to learn it. and the cool thing about digital, is the learning curve... i have learned as much in an hour... as i did in four years with my old camera. same camera, almost! just digital. and i get to see the stuff right away, which is exciting. and i don't even notice any less quality in the images. so yeah. technical stuff. gotta bite the bullet and learn that stuff. i was perusing one model place, and jeez, 99% of those "photographers" couldn't take a decent shot to save their life. i could put myself up there today, and generate at least as much interest as the worst 10% that do this professionally, or claim to so they look good, even if they only got $50 once five years ago to help with a kid's birthday party. but, whatever. i'll find people i can practice with. who knows? maybe i could even make a little extra money shooting kinky porn. show up in my latex, flirt a bit... ooh, and email cute boys and tell them i'm a "fetish photographer" so i can lure them back to my place and get them tied up and nekkid... lol, j/k. right now, i like to take pictures of just about anything and everything. i need to find out what i really really like and focus on getting really good at that. which means i need to get back to figuring out those little qualifiers, the composite of which might define who i am... *sigh*