Sunday, November 05, 2006

random sunday thoughts



i hate U2.
and socialists.
and anyone who takes themselves very seriously.
holy crap
what is playing on guy's itunes.
i can't let that thing go wild. oh it was joni mitchell.
i guess i'm not a joni mitchell fan either. is she serious?

"you only paint when you're crazy," he said.
it's true. it's a way away from blackout land.
it's a way away from destruction.
it's a place to put the energy.
it makes ugly paintings, that's too bad.

i dreamt last night that i was pregnant by my college boyfriend. it was present day, but guy and i had broken up for a bit nine months previously and that's when it happened. i was going to marry college boyfriend, and then it hit me, i don't actually want to do that, why am i doing it? i would be HAPPY right now if it was guy i was marrying, instead of walking around all mopey. i don't have to marry the person who inseminated me. this was all very revolutionary in my dream-brain. when i realized this me, guy, college boyfriend and maybe my sisters were swimming in the ocean. there were rapids too. it was difficult but mandatory, necessary to maneuver correctly.

when i realized i could marry guy and suddenly the whole dreary aspect of pregnancy and forced social customs didn't have to exist i was so happy, in my dream i could feel warmth spreading throughout my body, like a firefly.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

"what happened to the door there in the wall"



i am going off of lexapro, the newest, coolest, most refined of anti-depressants.

i decided to go on it a year ago. i have past experience with SSRIs (namely 1996 - 2000) and have found that i am a situational depressive, not a chronic. for a non-chronic to stay on drugs indefinitely is for sure BIG BROTHER-ish. i refuse that. so, if i find out/feel that i'm behaving a little out of the ordinary for even a crazy artist type, i get on the drugs. i stay on for a while and then i get off, and i'm fine. until i feel "nuts" again (which is really a glorified overreation to events that are not as tragic as i perceive them to be), and then i'll go back on them.

i have been feeling spectacular lately. really great. my job. my man. my home. etc. good stuff. so i decided, hey, it's time to get off of these drugs that block my perception of things and the way that i process such perceptions.

and i feel fantastic. i'm so happy to get these drugs out of my brain and my body and i feel sane and able and good. and soon the 30Lbs. that mofo drug put on my body will be gone too.

i encourage people to do their own research, always, for all medical concerns, but especially those that are less researched, like mental health and treatment. doctors/pharmacists/pharmaceutical companies/the goverment would rather you just take them all the time. in fact, a regular medical doctor has the power to prescribe such drugs, without any study whatsoever in psychology or psychiatry. how ridiculous is that? would you have a foot doctor diagnose and prescribe a heart patient???

so, it's important to keep track yourself, do your own research, and make your own decisions because those guys: mds, phds, and whatever, don't really know. mental health is too new a science and the drugs they prescribe have barely any history or trial tests to pull information from. it's a fucking crapshoot and the guinea pigs, ironically, are the crazy people who most often can't give a doctor an accurate snapshot of what is happening if they tried their very hardest, especially if they're on freaking brain drugs.

just a thought.

What happens when your family goes from happy to rot?



my mom, who i love so much, who i feel i got my best traits from, has been visiting since thursday. she was to leave tomorrow.

she left today. it's 1:30 in the afternoon.

the fight started when i opened up a newspaper and said, "this is what your next car should be: the saturn SUV hybrid. then you'd have all the room you want and not be driving a gas-guzzler like this (plymouth voyager mini-van, the thing is gigantic.) she says, "no. i'm waiting for an ethanol." well, i read a lot and i haven't come across much on ethanol so i tell her, i think, mom, maybe those cars are more in the development stages and you could get a saturn, which you trust,for a reasonable price, that's a hybrid and start saving money and the environment now."

that is how the fight started. we were pulling out of the REI parking lot. she wanted to get guy a christmas present, i showed her what he would want, and we found a good thing for her to give him, and she was going to buy it outright. instead i encouraged her to look it up on the internet to find the best price because she's always talking about how pinched their finances are (because she and my stepdad have invested all their money in strip malls in a tiny town outside of amarillo, texas - needless to say i don't get this). she seemed upset. i explained how guy looked for a tent he wanted at REI and then found it online for $75 less. i said, why not do the same thing? her reaction seemed like i was pissing on her parade. nevertheless, we went out to the car and were headed to the new mall downtown, just so she could see how much san francisco is changing. this is a town she and i have shopped in since i was 8 years old and started to give a fuck about fashion. we were excited, but after the discussion about hybrids and ethanol, and as we're driving away, things got hairy. and hairier.

we got into the same old fights all of a sudden about my step-dad and my half-sisters and her and their crazy freaking way of living and my grandparents who died, who were the only voice of reason ever in my life and it just got BAD.

we pulled over, tried to discuss it some more, and she announced, i'm going home now (to carson city, nevada). i said you know, we could just say let's think about what we've talked about and continue on and have a nice day. NO. she says she is too upset. she wants to go home. i start tearing up. she tells me i'm crying hysterically.

we get home to mine and guy's house and while i pour a fat vodka and smoke a cigarette, she gets her stuff together. i help her put it in the car. i'm feeling very depressed that my mom is leaving this way...but it's happening. she gets in the car and drives away.

there are many lessons to learn, but driving away from them, is dumb. i have learned this. taking a few moments to think is smart, but driving 6 hours away from the problem is why we are still having the same problems. money. half-sisters. me, an only child in a way, college, who worked for it, who got a semester paid by them for it, who didn't work for it, who didn't get a semester paid...it's family.

my family used to rule. i used to think we were special and seperate from families who didn't like each other or who fought.

then it totally changed and we became that family, the fighting family, the family who rolls their eyes and says, "Well, i'm spending the holidays with my family, better bring the valium! ha ha ha." we are now the family who can't be around each other, and while there is love, there is little tolerance for anything psychologically challenging. there is driving away. there is closing doors.

there is vodka drinks on the front porch at 2pm in the afternoon on a saturday.

i have no answers. i don't know how to fix this.

Hell's Dells



dude, i'm on a dell!

holy crap i have been thrown into computer hell at my new job as a writer! dude, i want to kill this dell! how stupid the PC is with its inexact cursor and click and drag and stupid WORD, where you accidentally erase whole sentences when all you're trying to do is excommunicate a period!!

DUDE! the dell is hell! i can't believe how fucking tedious pcs are! i totally forgot after 10 years of nurturing my mac love.

it's no surprise that the higher-ups here at work, even though they're not artists, they too are writers, ARE ON MACS! huh, what a surprise!

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

"Rocket-powered and nailed to the ground"



anyone who says beck's new record isn't great, is only spoiled by his continued genius over the last ten years.

seriously. it's totally exciting and inspiring in new ways, in the same ways, in beautiful ways that his music has always been. heavy beats, hardRock, manic words, melodies that speak to your native language, amazing off-beat percussion, variation in style, perfectly produced: lo-fi, hi-fi and experimental.

why would anyone want to make beck compete with beck, anyway? be nice to beck. that wouldn't really work with his personality.

Halloween in Gaytown




the castro is insane right now. it's insane a lot, so really i should say that the castro is over-the-top-gonna-kill-ya-with-an-axe certifiable right now.

helicopters overhead.

28 port-o-pottys per block of two blocks of castro street, not counting the side streets.

one fire lane that they finally figured out should be set up, since no human can move in that crowd when it's at its peak, much less an emergency vehicle.

ahhhh, the thumping dj disco gaytown music just started and it's only 7pm. i do love the joyousness of gaytown. seriously. i just don't like the soundtrack.

what i am supposed to be doing tonight:


1. throwing a party
2. going to a friend's punk rock show at bottom of the hill
3. raging on castro street in a costume

what i am doing tonight (while incurring certain wrath of certain friends i am sure, and deservedly)


1. writing
2. working on a cookbook i'm writing for my friend's birthday present
3. eating vicodin
4. drinking red wine
5. reading courtney love's diaries which just came out today and yep, i already bought it, eschewing sale prices from amazon and the like for immediate gratification. that's what courtney would have wanted.

so, essentially, i have decided to do exactly what i want to do on halloween, living in the castro. yet another sign of growing up (meaning doing what i want, as a person who has to present copy to scary people tomorrow, for the first time ever in a new career/job.)

xo

ps. i am left wondering if "growing up" just means "growing old."

Stripe Woven Bullshit Lifestyle Pant



This is what i write for my online fashion company copywriter job:

5647301 Stripe Cotton Woven Pant
A clean sophisticated taupe and grey stripe is just the beginning of these casual and comfortable cotton spring pants. Adjustable drawstring waist and straight, wide leg ensure carefree movement and a sense of easy-going cool. Goes perfectly with the Vintage Zebra Logo Tee.

This is what i really want to write for my online fashion company copywriter job:

5647301 Stripe Cotton Woven Pant
A clean sophisticated taupe and grey stripe is just the beginning of these casual and comfortable cotton spring pants. Wear with loafers to the corner organic market. Buy mangos and jicama for the brunch you’ve invited your Napa valley in-laws to. Make sure to pick up sunscreen! Even though you have a market umbrella on your deck, that sun could ruin your luxe complexion and all those microdermabrasions would go to waste. The twill lining at the waistline means you’ll feel no pinch when your pants get tight as your wife’s best friend bounds out of her land rover in your driveway, only to throw her arms around you and say, “it’s so good to see you! I brought the mimosas!” This handsomely detailed spring pant is sure to keep you in the style of everyone else around you. There will be many forced social occasions your wife throws, that you’ll have to endure with vodka-crans and sneak-a-tokes in the side yard behind her painting studio, and you’re going to need easy artillery like the stripe cotton woven pant. Pair with the worn Heritage Fitted Polo styled with a frayed collar, arms and hem. You need to keep that hip factor up even though you’re wearing beige. Bottoms up sissy boy! You’ve really made the big time!!

Monday, October 30, 2006

monday night letter to guy (who's on vacation in mexico)

baby. i lost my grandaddy's teething ring necklace down a city drain on castro street. i tried for over an hour to get it out. two different methods, lots of people helping: walgreens, cliffs and strangers on the street. i could not get it, i couldn't even see it. the drain is too deep and partially under water.

i came home and freaked out. i hyperventilated. i called my sister and she tried to calm me down, she did a good job and then i started to freak out again. i felt myself going to a hateful place. my sister kept talking, telling me that grandaddy would hate to see me so upset, that he would have loved that i wore it and lost it rather than kept it in a box where i never saw it or touched it.

so i decided to walk myself back from the ledge, and i calmed down. i had a cigarette and then smoked some hash. i feel numbed but lucid about the ideas of things.

the truth is i wasn't careless, it wasn't my fault, i wasn't being stupid or cosmically undeserving of nice things, or reaping bad karma or all the things i say to myself. i wore the necklace the same i wear all of them. all my pendants on the same chain. why this one falls off? i can't fucking begin to understand.

maybe this is just another reminder that i'm holding on to my grandparents in an unhealthy way, through their belongings. belongings are not permanent and i cannot allow myself to put all my love for them and memories of them in such a faulty place, in things.

i love you.
me

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Hey Now Brown Cow




i recently read that women over 35 need to tone down the amount of black they wear, that it makes them look old. i never thought of this before, never heard of it before. i find it curious then that i am suddenly, inexplicably, turning brown. going brown. i just bought two pairs of brown boots and a brown purse. i'm finding myself liking all shades of brown and i have been ANTI-brown my whole life. it's the color of shit, i have said. it's the color of people who live in fear. it's the color of no imagination.

i grew up in a house that did not experiment with color. ever. everything was brown. brown shag carpet. brown plaid sofa. white walls, dark brown wood laminate kitchen table. foam brown ceiling braces crossing the ceiling. brown vinyl flooring. the 70s were really all about brown and i have rejected it with disgust since forever. until now. until now that i'm reaching 40 and the time that, supposedly, to those who are paying attention to such things, the time that women should no longer go so heavy on the black.

guy says i wear black because i'm punk rock. well, i am punk rock, but that's not why! i say, nuh-uh! the truth is, i wear black because it is not brown. i proudly own 7 pairs of black boots. what other color would i have?

until now. everything is different now in 2006. i suddenly want to move to the country. and wear brown.

god help me, i guess i'm growing up. i guess it comes with the territory of haivng to seriously discuss something called "hysterectomy." i guess it comes on the heels of being treated as a grownup at work, not being micromanaged anymore. i guess it comes with the territory of really feeling that i am with the man i want to always be with.

brown? brown equals now.

Friday, October 27, 2006

The Burgler



i'm going to a party tonight in a big victorian house. the owners of the house, way old friends of most people who will be there, are in italy. we are all showing up at their house to party in burgler outfits. then we'll take pictures and it will be funny.

i wish so bad guy was going. then i could make him giggle all night, just by saying, "Burgled."

for guy (who is in mexico drinking dos equis right now):
burgled.
burgled.


burgled.


i've been burgled.

wanna get burgled?

(above, me, a mysterious burgler. barely caught on film)