Wednesday, December 30, 2009


i am 70% married to a boy in michigan.


Saturday, December 26, 2009


sharp letters and language
do not make you appear better
than anyone
or better.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

while I should be sleeping:

John is gone. He is in DC. I am occupying my time with creativity and money saving. Christmas has so far been almost suspiciously kind. I have received 3 unexpected gifts.

1. A glass bottle of Oberweis milk, from a regular customer at work.

2. $20 in cash from another regular at work, whose name, to be honest, escapes me, but she's really pretty.

3. 2 promotional gift card type thingies to Guitar Center that a customer I had never seen before in my life unloaded on to me, probably because he found me attractive, which works for me in so many ways.

As of late I have been listening to almost exclusively rap and country, which seem to be the 2 genres people like least. "oh, i like everything except rap and country..." I love Taylor Swift.

I feel so bad for succumbing to my ever-so-slightly-can-be psychotic side, sometimes. Being spiteful, and holding grudges, and saying nasty things to someone just to hurt them is not something I like to do. I would never purposely treat people with the disrespect with which I have been treated.

I also shouldn't really say this, but I just think it's something to marvel that there are 30+ year-old women who act like 15 year-old girls, call me names, and tell me that I am a little girl. Plus some of the women I encounter at work just blow my mind. My mother would have screamed her head off at me if I left the kind of mess behind that some of these women do. Older women confuse me.

My boss, who I can sometimes get a little more than frustrated with, is pretty amazing, though. She got anonymously written up in the Sun-Times for her preposterous acts of kindness. I hope I am half as well-liked when I get older. Our shop has a reputation for having incredibly friendly staff, and it's because of her. She remembers people that came in the first week she was open. I do my best, but I just don't quite have the memory she does, and night customers are less regular. Tomorrow I will make even more of an effort, I want to be like her.

Also, I lost 7 lbs! Yay me!

I got my mom some nice Christmas presents. I have been particularly interested in getting things for other people, but have not been making it easy for people who want to get me things. I want movie tickets, and books, and speakers for my record player.

okay, that's enough of that.

Sing it, Taylor.

Also, hi.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

bad day

i had a bad day.

I was late to work, work was frantic and busy.

now i am all dressed up.

that makes me feel better.

hopefully the day will improve.

I feel like a yuppie in the back of a cab, but I don't care enough to budget my time enough to take a train.

Friday, December 4, 2009


I'm sorry you misunderstood me.

John wouldn't use me.

An asshole named Bryan mistook my kindness as flirting and my friendship for something more, and treated me like a piece of meat.

John is great.

John and I are great.


Friday, November 27, 2009


Sometimes, people are bad. I hate to believe that, but it is true. Some people, I just won't like, and for some reason, that bothers me. I got good and used by this asshole; I hate feeling like a sucker.

So this past Sunday, as people left the theater, and some were inside, John and I went to see a movie, and barely made it 10 feet away from the theater before I lost my shit completely. I wept, I bawled. He stood there, I am sure, not knowing what the hell to do, as I cried. I had the worst headache of all time, and I was so tired, and the complexity of figuring out where our bikes would go should we decide to take the train to Webster Place to see Pirate Radio totally took it's toll on me. Plus all of the shitty feelings building up over the last month or so.

I was annihilated.

I sat on the curb and I even tried to pray, which has helped me out of holes like this in the past, but nothing happened, I didn't feel lighter, all I felt was empty, used up, hollow.

In a horrible moment of frustration I dug my nails into my head and scratched down my forehead and over my eyes, miserable. I only left one little mark, but seeing it on my forehead every day since then has not felt good.

I just watched Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and after watching it for the first time all the way through, alone, I am stuck feeling like I did ...

I never finished that sentence. It's been a few days since I wrote all that and it's been sitting in this open window since then.

I'm doing better now. I'm not great, but a little better. It's hard to be happy in the cold, but I find moments. I am very tired.

Sunday, November 15, 2009


oh god i am insecure lately.


I need to get organized.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Active Amp

I want those wooden ones on the right. I almost wish I was an amputee.


An Open, Albeit Short, Letter to my Boss

I deserve way more respect than you are allowing for something so petty. Seriously, I work my ass off for you, I think you can afford actually approaching me instead of sending me passive-aggressive facebook messages.


Thursday, November 5, 2009

Could use some sleep


Of all the new liquid eyeliner I bought, the CoverGirl is my favorite.

I don't know how I feel about anything, and that drives me insane.

I want to be Parker Posey.

Tomorrow I want to forget the shit that drags me through the mud.

Tonight though, I excited to listen to the infidelity episode of This American Life.

Nylon is good this month.

I want some babies.

Saturday, October 31, 2009


i am trapped in shitsville.

i am not creepy or weird.


i don't like coming across the wrong way.

Friday, October 30, 2009


I have accidentally been typing everything stupid.

Nothing works.

Nothing works.

Nothing works.

I will hide behind my new sunglasses.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Alright, so shit.

Bad things happen and my memory fails but now it's out there and fuck.


Balls up my ass.

I painted my nails red, instead of pink, I don't know what that means but it sure as shit felt poetic at the time.

I woke up this morning with the unforgiving tickle in the back of my throat and I will be spending the evening in a commune.

My new tattoos are a semicolon on my sternum, and Aubrey Beardsley's emblem on the back of my left arm that I am devoting to my favorite art and literature.

I just want some potato soup.

I just want to have enough money to fend for myself.

I just want to be Albert Einstein for Halloween.

Class was a bit of a bust. I again didn't write something I was particularly happy with at first, but it grew on me, and I think when brought to life it might be kind of nice.

I feel disappointing, and disappointed.

I am so sick of the mess in my room that I am afraid I could cry for no reason at any moment.

I feel like a fucking idiot.


Sunday, October 25, 2009


We had a conversation. I was nervous. It was almost as good as when you sat infront of me for that one play, and we made eye contact and my brain turned into mush.

This cannot go on like this. It's bad. So, MM, if you ever read this, and you figure me out, for goodness' sake, please be kind, I am just a sad little girl who thinks you are the coolest.

In other news: I have two new tattoos, done by a lovely gentleman named Dylan. He is pretty great. As far as dudes that aren't John go, he is extraordinary. I like him.

A lot.

I need to shower and get ready, it's time to party.

Friday, October 23, 2009

I ain't no poet

I am half trapped in this pretty abysmal sort of situation. I haven't felt this way about someone since Elisa, so maybe that wasn't love. I feel like such a child when I am around you. I blather and my jaw gives out. I smile like an idiot, and stare. You half smile, shrug, and dismiss me. I think you are cooler than cool. I feel like an idiot for looking in your direction, in the half hope you might say a single word to me. I don't want to kiss you, it isn't lustful or sexual or even emotional, but it's like some twisted big sister thing. Everything you do is absolutely flawless to me. You shit sunshine. It's preposterous. I just want you to give me the time of day. Maybe I am idolizing you, and if we got coffee one day, I would find out about your humanity, and I wouldn't feel this way. Maybe that would be a good thing. I don't know. I don't know. But when I read your blog, girl, I just get more and more enthralled by you.

I had the most magnificent morning.

I ate a well balanced breakfast.

I should have gone to sleep a long time ago, but I really like the Revolutionary Road soundtrack, and I would really like to have a good cry right now.

Damnit MM, one of these days...

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Internal Conflict, y'all

I got a whole lot of shit to do, and while I wish one of those shits to do was to go see Fear again, I cannot. There is so much auxiliary shit do to, that Fear is not even an option.

I got a lot of things going on, and I keep using the word "shit" as a describer, but actually, most of the "shit" I have to do is pretty okay, minus pay my credit card bill and have little to no money for the rest of the month, but I got by in October mostly on tips anyway, after having treated John and Luke to dinner, which I really likely should not have done. In any case...

I am not too proud of the monologue I wrote for class. Not even a little. I think I tried too hard to impress Megan that I just ended up accidentally writing shit. But not like the shit from before, where shit means stuff that is pretty okay, but more like actual feces.

I might just write a new one about how much I hate the movie Jumanji.

That would be way better, I think. Don't you?

Friday, October 9, 2009

shit shit fuck shit

things are different now.

things are respect.

I have found a chance worth taking.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009



I hate everything.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Me without make -up

I never like pictures of me like this, with all this chin, but I like this picture a lot.

That's all.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

One Down

When it heals, and isn't puffy, it will just look like a white cursive scar. I am pretty stoked.

I love it so much.

It says "nolite te bastardes carborundorum" which is dog latin for "don't let the bastard grind you down."

It's from my favorite book, The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, it's the second Atwood-related tattoo I hate gotten.


Tuesday, September 15, 2009


I am listening to music I stole.

I did not download it illegally off of the internet, but I recorded it without the knowledge of the musician.

It is beautiful, and I do not regret it for a single moment.

In other news:

I like girls.

I like girls as friends. I used to be one of those girls that "gets along with guys better" but I don't. I love being girly and hanging out with girls. I like having girl friends.

I miss Beek. She is a girl and my friend and we shop and are girls and I miss her and that so much when she is gone.

I could watch this video over and over and over and over.

and I am.


That girl is cute. I bet she likes pink nail polish.

Monday, September 7, 2009



1. "Nolite te bastardes carborundorum." in white ink on my left inner forearm.

2. An octopus.

3. The rest of my literary half-sleeve

4. My Modern Times shoulder piece

5. YES!? on my inner lip.


1. Brian (he leaves soon)

2. Emma (already gone)

3. Paula (always texts me at the most inopportune times)

4. Tim (I think he thinks I don't like him)

5. Jessica Anne (she is awesome)


1. Nomads

2. The gifts given to me

3. My mom being home

4. My grandmother not needing major surgery

5. Neo-Futurism


1. My mom

2. My job

3. My friends

4. My room

5. My brain


1. My hair

2. Brian

3. My mom

4. Money

5. This glass of milk.


1. Be Gentle With Me - Boy Least Likely To

2. Bookends - Simon and Garfunkel

3. Cecilia - Simon and Garfunkel

4. La La Love You - The Pixies

5. Skullcrusher Mountain - Jonathan Coulton

Saturday, September 5, 2009

A Heart Under My Heart

"Who gives his heart away too easily must have a heart
under his heart.
—James Richardson

After all kinds of trouble, silliness and sadness, I am finally recovering from the preposterous acts that took place in my absence.

I don't need another two-faced friend, I got rid of those a while ago, so should you find me in your presence again, have the decency to just leave me alone. It's a shame though, you seemed like such a nice girl, but you are just a faker, and I hope you find the courage to do what you need to do, and maybe then I will have a space in my life for you.


I did a lot of cleaning today, and probably in a little while, after The Sound of Music is over, I might drink the rest of the bottle of wine that John bought, and watch something else, and relax.

I work tomorrow at nine in the morning.

I will go to bed early. I am very happy and tired. I feel feisty and creative.

I meant to say, upon receiving a generous gift, "Thank you." but forgot, so, thank you.

Sleeping cats and soon to be sleeping me.


Thursday, August 13, 2009


I like this. It's nice. Goodnight.

Friday, August 7, 2009

This is us.

This is what we look like.

I couldn't be happier.


Monday, August 3, 2009


Today I pampered myself.

I got my first bikini wax.

Holy shit.

It wasn't as bad as I thought, but still, pretty ridiculous.

I got my transverse lobe piercing. It was the first that the guy had ever done, and I think it's pretty great.


It's a little smaller than I really wanted, but because of where my regular lobe piercing was, this was where it ended up, and I am totally pleased. It also didn't exactly break the bank, and the guy who did it kept calling me honey and had a portrait tattoo of his cat, so I was totally sold on that.

So my painful pampering day was pretty great, and got topped off by Chipotle!


About my cat:

I could write a whole blog about her right now. So I will.

She got groomed today, and a haircut, to get rid of all of her mattes. She was pretty lumpy, and now she just looks punk as fuck, and she also seems so much happier.

She has been ridiculously playful and loving, and very rambunctious, probably because he badass new haircut has left her with a devil-may-care attitude, I love that I can feel how warm she is.

I remember Sara telling me about finding her rat dead, but the saddest part was how cold it was.

Life is only fleeting warmth, and so I would rather sweat and be close to the body of something alive that I can love, than be comfortable holding something cool, and dead.

She is also very small under her gigantic fur coat. She is small and dainty and velvet warmth. She's my little baby girl. These two months I have to spend not loving John, I will spend loving my kitten extra hard.


After: (note the awesome tail)

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Mods I want:

Just to get them out of my head:

Modern Times Ending Tattoo:

Transverse Lobe Piercing:

thats all I can remember right now.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Middle

Seriously, the song The Middle, by Jimmy Eat World will always be therapeutic to me.

How is that possible?

Friday, July 24, 2009


I am medicated, and I need to write a fucking monologue.

Right now.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

blah blah blah.

i can think of a million things to say that i am too tired and lazy to type.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

I have been complaining.

Or writing when I am in a bad mood.

Right now I am elated, sublime.

I am happy.

I am serene. I got a great shirt that I really like for $5.

I'm about to get in bed with the man that I love.

Right now: No complaints.

...My foot is asleep...

Okay. That was it. No complaints.

I am going to sleep now.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

it's just not good.

I am in a gray haze. I don't feel very good about anything. I'll have bursts of good moods, but they don't last long. My body hurts. My shoulders ache, and I don't know why. I am going to take a hot shower in a little while, and maybe that will soothe that mess.

I want to get out more.

I am going to make things tonight.

Monday, June 29, 2009

i got it.

In any case: There is a chair in John's garage that I am totally in love with. I have thought about it pretty much non-stop-ish since I saw it.

It is a beautiful chair.

It was my birthday present. I am sitting in it right now. I love it. I cried when I saw it.

Right now though?

I'm a touch melancholy.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

while it's fresh in my mind:

I am filler, I am nothing.

I am the one that inhabits the rooms and the beds. But I am only taking up space.

This is what I have chosen, I suppose.

I have chosen to take the bus instead of bike, and now I will be fat. I have chosen to let jealousy and bitterness sink in, and now I will be bitter.

This isn't my present, it's someone else's past, but I am living it, and it's loud and mean.

"Sorrow drips into your heart, through a pinhole, just like a faucet that leaks, and there is comfort in the sound, and while you debate half empty or half full, it slowly rises,
your love is gonna drown."

I had a dream about Eli last night, and trains, and hanging out with people my age.

It wouldn't matter if I was the most beautiful woman in the world in my new dress, and it wouldn't matter if I went away to college, and got real smart, it wouldn't matter if I wrote a book, or a play, or a song, I am only me. I will never be 543.

And just like that, these feeling bring me back to knocking on Julian's window, in the garage, but I'm not S, either.

My new suspenders itch.

I am going to ride my bike, even if it pours.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

chair on my head.


Thursday, June 4, 2009

20 before 20

I need ideas for 19 teenage things to do before I am no longer 19. These are my last twenty days as a teenager.

Mama bird came back, I am not a murderer.

Life is good, today.

My boyfriend is the knees.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

M & S

I just watched Beauty and the Beast for the first time in many many many years, and that, coupled with boyfriend smell (inside of boyfriend shirt), and maybe a bit of new-bike excitement have helped me recover a bit from my concern over the baby birds I might have mindlessly murdered.

I haven't gotten to see them since Monday, but I will see them tomorrow night, John says they've been chirping. We've had two cold nights in a row. Suck.

But I did get a new bike, and I can already tell that her name is Margaret. Sheila was fun and sweet and beautiful, and Margaret is a little more sensible, still beautiful though. Sheila was my beautiful 1970's Kelly Green Schwinn Breeze, and Margaret is probably an early 80's Burgundy Schwinn World Tourist. One of the things I like best about Margaret is that she is world's lighter than Sheila. I picked her up and the difference was AMAZING. Another huge difference between Margaret and Sheila is that M is a three speed and Sheila was a single speed, so that should be... interesting. I don't know how to work gears really. I played around when I rode home from the train tonight, and I think I have some idea. Also, Margaret has handle breaks, where Sheila had back pedal breaking. They are very very different bikes. They have similar handle bars, minus the breaks, and Margaret has thinner, more road bike style tires.

The seat on Margaret is AMAZING. It's like sitting on a pillow, perfect for my awfully long ride to boyfriend's house.

I don't know why I called him that. He has a name.


Why did I just pretend that my cat was my boyfriend and not John?

This was in the wallet I lost. Awful. I love these pictures. He's a handsome fellow, and brilliant.


Monday, June 1, 2009


If only this blog could be about the song by Low. If only. I would be so happy.

This is doomed to be about how I inadvertently murdered three baby birds. Whether or not they are dead at this moment, I am not sure, but it's cold, and they are no longer safe and warm under John's air conditioner. They are mostly safe between John's windows with some cardboard. I am sad, almost sick over it, they looked to sweet and they were breathing, those pretty little baby birds.

If their mama bird doesn't come back and they die, I have every intention of carefully taking them out of the window sill and putting them in a strong enough box that there can be no ironic worm-eat-bird twist.

I am going to name them.

There's three of them.

I'll write a play about it, and a song, and I'll paint a picture of them.

My heart is aching over what I caused.

It occurred to me that I could try to care for them, but the internet says they need to be fed every 15 to 20 minutes, and I have been away for about 5 hours.

Blech, I hate it.

I just want to have enough money to buy a bike, and get my tattoo.

I turn twenty in 23 days.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

"I know"

I am almost 20 years old. Plenty of my peers are in the same boat as me, the same, anxious and waiting to be 21 boat. However, unlike most of my peers, I am not excited to drink alcohol, and gamble, and get into certain strip clubs, etc. I want to be able to hang out with my boyfriend. I want to be able to go dancing, and to the bars he goes to, just to hang out with him and friends. It makes me feel shitty that he has to choose between hanging out with me, where we can go, or going out with his friends at bars or clubs where I can't get in, because I am almost 20, and not 21. I can only hope that 20 goes by as quickly as 19 did. I don't want to drag him away from the places he wants to be, but I want to be able to spend time with him. I want to be able to dance and hang out.

That's the end of my whiny rant about being too young to do what I want, and I have complained a lot about my age here, it's hard.

I got off the bus today, and sat down at the bus stop for the next bus I needed to get on, and then "Come Pick Me Up" by Ryan Adams came up in the shuffle and swelled my heart up real big and I decided to walk. It was gray, but not raining, and if I got tired, I could always stop and wait for a bus.

I have been having bouts of really bad chest pain, heart palpitations. It happened on the bus last night to John's, and then again when I was walking, and then again when I was home. I want to believe it's because I have been so happy lately that my heart just can't handle it, but I think it is more likely caused by anxiety problems. But I am happy.

Anyhow, I made it a hop and a skip past Lawrence before Paula called me and I went to The Grind and got her some coffee and I got a raspberry hot chocolate, which was delicious. Then Paula and I sat around and we played on her dad's wheelchair elevator lifty deal outside. Sara came and we went to Wells Park. That didn't last and we ended up back at Paula's house, where I played with Ringo, who was cuter than cute.

I have been tired all the time.

On Friday Beek is going to pick me up from work on her SCOOTER and we are going to shop in Wicker Park and then go downtown.

I want to be able to wear my swim suit to the beach soon. I love to swim.

I have spring fever, I think that's why I am so lovey-dovey. It's the sun and the birds and the warm breeze, they elate me, and then I wake up, and get kissed on the head.

I am sleepy, but I feel good, and somber, and pensive, and a little sad, maybe.

I don't know.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Lemon Chiffon

Diane is not bad. Not at all, I would go so far as to say Diane is pretty good. There has been plenty of past tension but tonight, I was happy to talk to her, and happy to hear about her sleep deprivation due caused by not wanting to sleep through a moment of hanging out with this new dude in her life. I was sad when I had to go downstairs.

My day at work was perfect. I felt good, and I kept busy, and it even started great because there, at the bottom of the daily log, in big yellow and green letters, it read "GREAT CLOSE COREY!" as in, I had not only cleaned and prepared the store for the next day adequately, but I did great. I was there a long time, and I worked very hard, but rather merrily, because my heart was still buzzing from the spark that was shot through it when Sid had to go. I was on clouds, and I floated over the closing, it was a very sweaty, jerky, jagged floating though, that involved a spontaneously stopping vacuum.

But I got home, and as I kept almost nodding off to sleep, I though about John. I was tired and lonely and wanted to be at his house, in his room, in his bed, falling asleep wrapped in those smells. But I didn't get to see him until the show, but he was so great in the show. He is great. He was charming and handsome, like a prince, and I was totally taken by him. Girl crushes can be fine and good, but when I think about the Johnman, and what he has done for me, in terms of helping me see and feel my potential, I am giddy with adoration. I am proud to be the girl he can call his. I can only hope that he can feel that way about me.

I don't feel like I have accomplished a lot, but I like the niche I have carved for myself in my neighborhood, at the theater, with my friends, with John, but especially that I feel like I live in this city, I know my way around.

I want to move out, and possibly to Lincoln Square.

I want to move out.

I want to move.

Not right now, now, I want to go to a movie.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

soft soft

Long ago, when I was just a wee girl, and I just started speaking, I used to call lip balm of any kind, "soft". I think my long standing addiction to lip balm began there. I have lip balm either on my person, or within 10 feet of me, at all times.

Except for the week that I left it in the car when I got dropped off at camp. Awful.

Anyhow, I like rubbing my lips together and having them be smooth and soft. I like that a lot.

I also like Sid a lot. It goes beyond just regular crush to crush + friend-crush = a general excitement when I talk to her. I like that she knows about things I want to know about, and she has the same excitement that I do for art, probably more even, it's so inspiring to be around her. She's gorgeous, which doesn't hurt either. I could look at those big brown eyes alll day. Three L all. ALLL.

I am hoping that our adventure plans come to fruition. Oh, the adventures!

Oh my.

I was planning to be a little social tonight, but discovered I was tired, and would rather stay home, and relax in my chair, and melt into my bed when I get tired enough to get into it.

I had a good day at work, which I owe in large part to Sid, for keeping me company over a very slow day.

My cat is giving me the eye.

I wanted to meet Sara and Vinny at the Music Box for Army of Darkness, but no such thing happened. Hopefully though, that will allow me to read John's book tonight.

Now though, it is time for mac and cheese, and cleaning up the messes I have made, and reading, and cross word puzzle, and sleep.


Thursday, May 21, 2009

Dear Emma,

Your prom fantasy, specifically, the end of your prom fantasy, made me swoon. She goes alone, but in the end, Duckie is there, and he is wearing a blue suit, and he tells her that he is now, and will forever be, a Duckman, and he is wearing those killer white shoes that he wore the entire movie. I watched a documentary about it and they said the could only find those phenomenal shoes in a size too big and a size too small for him.

Those are great shoes.

I am glad you are going to prom, because if nothing else, the food should be pretty great, and besides the food and the bad music, and the more-than-likely godawful dresses, you, I'm sure, will look magnificent. You don't give yourself enough credit. I have seen the things you have made, and you're great. That being said, please take at least one picture.

I hope to see you at Too Much Light afterwards, you and perhaps some gang in your prom best.

You're almost out, you're almost a real person in the eyes of society.


(this is where the letter to Emma concludes)

That being said, I feel like many people I know are facing turning points. Or maybe just three. Emma is graduating from High School, and going away to college, I am leaving behind my teens, for the official and way older sounding 20's, and a girl I met recently is graduating from college. Oh, the beginnings of endings are upon us, and there is no turning back. I have been so excited to turn twenty, if anything, just for John's sake, like, truly, I feel bad for having a teen at the end of my age; I just feel like it makes me sound so much younger. But TWENTY. That is a good, solid age, and has the fewest letters spelled out since TWELVE.

I love words. I love words and letters, and tattoos and writing, and fish.

I went to the Aquarium, and then a motherfuck of a walk yesterday, with a girl, a pretty cool girl. I am making a list of adventures. I will post it when I am done. Perhaps I will even start a blog about our adventures. Chicago will be ours this summer.

Like Alex G gave this city to me, I will pass it on, or something really cheeseball and corny like that, because she's a hell of a girl.

Saturday, May 16, 2009


Could I be more homosexual when I am around you? I think not.

I have been day-dreaming about domestic fantasies all week. Not all week, but when my thoughts wander, they end up at your imaginary door, where you imaginary live, and where I sometimes imaginary stay with you over night and we have beautiful sexual make-out montages to "Free" by the Martinis. We eat dinner and watch movies, and drink wine. And then it gets nasty, or, on the contrary, not nasty at all, in fact, it get's sweet and cute, like little kittens with the same color fur curled up, where you don't know where one ends and the other begins.

I have been day dreaming those day dreams about a girl. And maybe I shouldn't day dream those things with such a fine and wonderful upstanding man in my life, but fuckit. I am HORMONAL-no, crazed. It's chemical, and this crush must be some kind of reaction.

I haven't liked a girl in a long time, probably not since I was 16. Oh man. I forgot what it felt like to feel so gay. I have long considered myself Straight with exceptions, and you, lady, are an exception. I would accept you anytime. All night long.


And it's not even just physical. I know that I am jonesin' for someone when I want to talk to them, a LOT. As in, I wish I had asked her for her number, so I could call her and tell her that if she wanted, we could go to the Aquarium for free, and we could walk and look at fishes and hold hands a little? Yeah? oh man.

I am so not going to publish this to the internet.

Turns out, I am. Please talk to me again sometime. I promise I'll be cool.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

I am (perhaps hopelessly) determined to do creative things tonight. I want to work in the book John gave me, the beautiful glow in the dark book he handmade for me for Christmas.

I don't know how to draw the way I want, though.

I don't want him to look at it some day and think that I could have done better.

Friday, May 1, 2009

I have to pee so bad.

Like, really, really bad.

So bad.

Oh my god.

It hurts.

I have an hour before I have to be at the theater. One. Hour.

Oh my god.

I will probably use the bathroom at in a minit.


Saturday, April 25, 2009

A Macaw?

I always fancied myself a hummingbird, but it makes all kinds of sense. I am loud.

Today, the loud saved me.

I wasn't doing too good. A lot of the angst I have been feeling toward my boss exploded today when she got mad at me over something pretty trivial. The way I served something was "completely inappropriate." (The customer had expressed that this way was one her preferred.) And so after she harpooned me, and then made me apologize to the customer, who at this point looked more than a trifle uncomfortable, as he told me that it wasn't a problem, and he tried to tell her- Whatever the case. I went into the backroom to make the sandwich he ordered, and I felt the face swell that comes before full on sobbing.

"Don't cry." I said it over and over, aloud. But I did. It wasn't sobbing, or weeping, just hot heavy tears streaming over my cheeks. This happened in the first hour of my shift, and pretty much killed any hope I had to be perky and sweet.

I like to be sweet with the customers, and when I don't feel it, I can't be. I think they can read that I am being wholly sincere, and I think they appreciate it.

But after work, I just wanted to collapse in bed and sleep, but then I realized I had some errands that had to be run, so I got on my bike in the cold, freezing rain, sort-of hail, torrential downpour, and I ran them.

I almost fell asleep before I had to be at the theater, but I took a cab and got there just fine. The show was good.

Now I am awake.

Tomorrow I am having coffee with Paula, which will hopefully not be nearly as awkward as I am anticipating. I miss her.

I fell in love with a chord last night.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009



Goodness gracious. I saw 17 again and Zac Efron might as well have been a Backstreet Boy, and I might as well have been 10 years old because golly-gosh, I was swooning. I haven't swooned that hard and with that little mercy in a long time. It's a good thing John is in NY, I'm telling you that.

Tomorrow I work, and then have my first Gymnastics Class. Suffice it to say that at the very least I am mortified. I don't know what to wear, or if I will be strong enough, or if my feet will be killing me from work.

My boss has been breaking my heart lately. I feel like I always have to walk on eggshells around her. Nothing I do is good enough. She doesn't understand that she opened a coffee shop, it's her passion, what she loves, but to her employees, it's a job. It's a great job, a job I generally look forward to, but would I rather sleep in, in the arms of my wonderful boyfriend then wake up after not enough sleep and go to work where I am afraid if I do one thing wrong, I will be picked on (honest to God, she will make snotty, snide remarks)?

Yes. I would rather just have money, and not have to work. I would rather be a clown, or in a circus, or in a play, or a Neo-Futurist. I would rather not be mocked for being honest.

But... I digress...

On to better, less unfortunate things:

I am a cat lady in training. This is Pouncer and I in our synchronized cuddling act.

I'm a weirdo.

Monday, April 20, 2009

So, We Meet Again & Other Happy Stories

At 12 or so, I was in some way or another introduced to the Weetzie Bat books. I loved them. I read them all, and I knew the characters and stories well. I loved them, Weetzie, and Dirk and Duck. I loved My Secret Agent Lover Man, and I think it would be entirely worthwhile to read them again, because what I recall of them, he is like John, in some ways, brooding and more quiet, a compliment to my colorful wild.

In any case, characters in books, especially in series books, become like friends. You become invested in their lives, and it feels good to know their story, that they're well.

A while back I bought a new book, by the same author. Notsomuch YAFiction, but a continuation of Weetzie's story, in the new book she is 40, after having been twenty or thirty and at some point the series shifting to her daughter(s).

I loved Witch Baby. I love their silly names and the beautiful purple and blue soft focus, covered in glitter, half fairy tale. I can't describe it.

I keep two pages from the book in my wallet.

Other happy story?

I saw a girl get, "The best phone call of her life" on the train today. She looked radiant and was giddy and bouncing, and tears were welling in her eyes.

One more: The rain felt good tonight.

Tomorrow: 17 Again, because for some reason, it's the only movie I want to see right now.

Friday, April 17, 2009


I didn't do it. I am been busy. Or lazy. Blog EveryDay in April just didn't happen for me.

Monday, April 13, 2009


Easter was anti-climactic. It could have been tons worse. Not the church goin' type, my family stayed in and cooked. When it came time to eat we did say a prayer, and reflected upon how truly lucky we are to have what we had. And maybe it was just ham, and mashed potatoes, and asparagus and tiny little cup cakes, but it could be nothing. It reminded me of Eliza's play at too much light, that life is like the Grand Stop on the red line, always late and under construction.

I love my city. I love Chicago. I got to take a little walk after lunch, before I had to go to the theater for the show tonight, and I took a good long look at the purple house with the green and gold trim, the one where Billy Corgan used to live, but had some fire on the inside in the last few weeks, causing the windows to be boarded up. I thought about the walls you could see from the outside, through the windows, and how they had been completely obscured by pictures in frames. That's how I want my house to be someday.

The show was pretty great, too. Megan gave me all the old clothes from the suitcase she found, and I am going to wash them tomorrow. I assessed their size, and a lot of them will be too big, or too awkward, but there's this beautiful white dress with a green pattern that will fit me just fine, and two of the dresses are perfect smock cut/size. They probably were smocks for the little old lady to whom they once belonged.

John gets back from LA tomorrow, and then we get to watch the Doctor Who Easter Special.

I missed him something fierce, and he missed me, which made me feel good, because he has expressed that he might not miss me during the times he is away. He is a weird guy that way.

I finally figured out the last line to the chorus of the song I have been trying to write, so maybe that will get done soon.

All in all, not a bad day, but I have a lot to look forward to.

I met a coder for YouTube at the show tonight, and told him that I am an avid watcher or YouTubers, and that I was not pleased with the supposed layout change, relegating user content to the background, and he told me it probably wasn't going to happen, anyway. So, here's to hoping.

My foot just fell asleep. I ought to take a hint.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

New plays

Jay Torrence has a new play in Too Much Light that took my breath away. The spoken part was gorgeous, and heartbreaking, and then when he tips the ladder and falls, there is just a stillness and quiet in the theater, and my hear is broken in half. It is a beautiful image.

The funny plays were funny, too, but Jay's play was like the quiet sympathy you have for a friend who just got dumped by a long term S.O. It's surprise and fear.

I have been talking to John's sister, Jeannie a lot, lately. I like her so much. I am excited to go with her and Levi and John to see the Pirate exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry.

John comes back from LA on Monday, after having Easter with Dino. That should be... interesting at worst, exciting and terrifying at best.

My anchor is having trouble again.

I just typed out "Play." for no reason.


Thursday, April 9, 2009


Sunday, April 5, 2009


It was amazing. It was truly, beyond great. I had a good day at work, it was busy, and I got lousy tips, but I had a blast. I then got to go to Chipotle, with John, and we got mm mm tacos. I have dreams about them.

I left my bike my the Chipotle, and now the weather is HORRIFIC. All the worst parts of rain and snow, cold slush falling from the sky. I need to pick it up tomorrow. I hope she's still there. I don't think anyone would steal a bike like Sheila.

In any case, Too Much Light last night was pretty good, not the best I'd seen. I still love Megan's suitcase play, and it's great to see Mary again.

Today, the weather turned into bullshit, and I almost didn't make it to work on time. John leaves for California on Wednesday, and I am working like a madman all week. My feets hurt already.

Now I am ready to curl up and sleep with my kitty babies.

First, some crosswords.

Good show.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Bad Day

April 3rd, from the very start, was not good.

1. Cracked, more like, shattered the glass screen on the iPhone.
2. My checks that I deposited have not yet completely cleared.
3. Accidentally slept way, way later than I would have liked.
4. When I sent in my registration for Circus School, the form I sent, although I sent the filled out PDF, arrived blank, and so I had to send it again.
5. Miscellaneous Fees in my bank account?!
6. Not doing anything on a Friday night.

I feel like I need a good cry.

Today was ridiculous. John is good at cheering me up. I really wanted to see a movie tonight.

Lame. I want Chipotle tacos. Right now.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

For Serious, Guys.

There is something REALLY wrong, really, very wrong, with me. The trouble, you see, is that there are new bus ads, the the sides of the buses, that are all LED lit, and very VERY bright. The trouble begins, for me, personally, when the bus is driving by, and a very bright blue light shines in through the store's front window, and my first instinct?




Not even a joke. There were customers in the store, and all of a sudden there's a blue light, and I am down on my knees behind the counter, thinking, "Holy shit! Aliens! I am going to die!" I began to think that I might have seen things, so I peek over the counter and see Mary Poppins, complete with umbrella and carpet bag, on the side of the bus, in the light. It was beyond embarrassing.

In other news, either here, or on YouTube, or on my other blog, (which is more or less also about my days, only... from the perspective of me after I experienced something that might have killed me. It's an odd little writing project I am doing. So, no matter what I write, I will always put a link to it here. Cool? Yes? Maybe?

A lot of the people I watch on youtube are doing the BEDA/VEDA business, and while I assumed they'd be Vlogging, I was inspired by Haley G. Hoover to do write. I love to write, and sometimes I feel like I only ought to write is I have something to say, so maybe I will find I have more to say than I thought. Cool?




Let's make some sense around here!

I gotta go to work!

So, after work!

Let's do BEDA!


I got this.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Truth

The truth is, that when I think about her, and her obsession, I have nothing, absolutely nothing but sympathy, because I find myself thinking that one day, I will need the things she needs.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

yes yes yes

oh do i feel good.