| Wednesday, July 8th, 2009 |
| 9:44 pm |
Lately I am a daily visitor to people.com. It's pretty pathetic. People doesn't add enough new content so to sate myself I have just gone to perezhilton.com. I just got out of yoga, and I was feeling a very rejuvenating desire to devour some legitimate, relevant information upon my return home. Now I look at the clock and find that I have been gossip-hunting for 30 minutes! I think I have to cut myself off. People and Netflix: enemies of a productive lifestyle. |
| Wednesday, March 4th, 2009 |
| 9:47 pm |
Why I love birds
The way they don't seem to mind the rain at ALL. The way they walk, or even run, away from you as you approach them, without even turning their heads to look at you; and how fucking cool and nonchalant they look while they're doing it. Current Music: the eels, duh |
| Wednesday, February 18th, 2009 |
| 9:45 pm |
It's really amazing to me that one fraudulent prick can wipe out an entire nation's economy. |
| Wednesday, February 11th, 2009 |
| 7:10 pm |
It's amazing how often you use thumb-tacks when you're a college student. This usage drops off dramatically when you reach mid-twenties/early adulthood/oh no where has my youth gone. |
| Wednesday, January 28th, 2009 |
| 9:32 pm |
I have to ride with a recycling truck tomorrow, which means I have to get up at 4 am. I'm really not looking forward to it. |
| Saturday, January 24th, 2009 |
| 10:17 am |
Sometimes eggs really freak me out. When they're not thoroughly cooked and an egg-flavored juice rolls around your mouth while you're chewing. My diet is having an identity crisis. I'm always hungry, I go to bed hungry, I wake up hungry, I'm hungry all day, but there's nearly nothing that I'm enthusiastic about eating. I want an enormous fruit plate but there's barely any fruit in season right now. I also always want to go yoga. These life changes are probably for the better. |
| Saturday, January 3rd, 2009 |
| 9:43 am |
Day 3 of not cracking my knuckles. It's going pretty well so far. |
| Friday, November 21st, 2008 |
| 7:01 pm |
Dear lovely green bug with shimmery wings, I'm sorry you flew into my incandescent light bulb and fell, broken, onto my keyboard. I very much enjoyed observing you when you perched on the rim of my water glass moments before your poor flight decision. Stacy |
| Saturday, October 11th, 2008 |
| 10:20 am |
I was telling Oliver about the homunculus theory a few nights ago, cause I find it so charming that people used to believe that tiny and fully formed humans existed in sperm. I also find it pretty sensible given their historical context. He disputed my definition of the word and looked it up. My definition was, of course, listed, but there was another, even better one: An artificially made dwarf, supposedly produced in a flask by an alchemist. I. Love. It. |
| Monday, September 29th, 2008 |
| 7:48 pm |
Lately I'm hungry, starving for knowledge. All I want to do all day is read books about economics, the world bank, water privatization, natural history, genomics, everything. The main impediments to the realization of my desire are the knotted muscles in my neck, borne of unhealthy reading posture, and more importantly, my stinking job. |
| Thursday, September 25th, 2008 |
| 9:29 pm |
Just got back from Oliver's museum. Grand opening of their Guatemalan textile exhibit. I didn't stay long because I have absolutely no interest in Guatemalan textiles. I'm fond of museums in general, but they don't often provide the narrative that I need to really dig it. I'd rather read an ethnography of Guatemalan textile weavers. I sat in the gift store and read about Ishi and considered buying a postcard of him but decided against it cause he got gazed at enough in life and it seemed disrespectful. Yesterday a white trashy shaved head gold studded teeth guy hit on me while I was pumping gas: hey girl. Hi. you single? No. you got a man? Yes. so I can't call you up? No. Walks away toward his car, turns back, and says by way of explanation: I've just never been with a redhead before. Oh well in that case let's fuck right here. Soooo happy tomorrow's Friday. Current Music: Nick Drake |
| Wednesday, September 17th, 2008 |
| 7:12 pm |
I read a pretty disturbing statistic in a recent Newsweek article: According to a 2005 UCLA study 20% of college guys say they would commit rape if they knew they wouldn't get caught. |
| Tuesday, September 16th, 2008 |
| 9:17 pm |
And I see it coming
I've had a beer and I'm feeling tipsy. And it feels nice. Today on NPR they had two "feminists" talking about Sarah Palin and why they support her (or don't). One of the "feminists" said she felt like the meaning of feminism was being conflated with the values of the Democratic party, because she was being criticized for endorsing Palin. She said she was a good feminist who "played with trucks when I was little and am pro-choice" and she's being a true feminist by basing her opinions on Palin's "brain and not her uterus". Then a "very left-leaning Democrat" called in to say she was voting for McCain-Palin because of Palin's pro-Arctic drilling position. What the fuck? I don't understand how someone could announce to the world that they are a feminist (a president of a feminist organization, no less!) and simultaneously endorse an anti-woman team. In happier news, NOW has made an unprecedented presidential endorsement: OBAMA! Current Music: Bells for her on repeat |
| Saturday, August 30th, 2008 |
| 8:59 am |
I love manatees more than you
Last night I dreamed about a manatee. The fact that it was a talking manatee shouldn't fool you into thinking this wasn't a serious dream. The manatee was injured and I was cuddling it (the blubber felt good) and he was bleeding and he was trying to kill himself by strangling himself in some wires to stop the pain. There was blood on my hands and I felt a very strong bond to this creature even though we'd just met. I woke up and promptly started crying in Oliver's arms. Current Music: Sufjan Stevens |
| Tuesday, August 26th, 2008 |
| 7:08 pm |
Too lazy to cook, making frozen pizza
I just got back from reading on the lake. The days are so beautiful lately I feel pulled to the water to enjoy the geese and the people and the breeze. There's a labyrinth cut into the grass, with paths tread to dirt rising into grassy hillocks. I sat on one and tried to keep my legs together, being in a dress and in close proximity to a talkative homeless man leaning against a bike at the far end of the maze. Then I began walking home, just up the street, but turned right instead because it felt right. There I sat on a particularly bright patch of grass littered with goose droppings and mysterious bones, and kept reading my book, The Male Body, which really is "an unqualified pleasure to read". A dog showed up a few minutes later, healthy and sweet and brown, chasing down goose feathers and eating poop. He accompanied a youngish father with a stroller. Out came the baby in a red striped onesie. The father walked a few paces away, held out his arms and the baby walked to him before turning and moving surprisingly quickly in the opposite direction. The dog ran over and almost knocked him down and for a second I fathomed the joy inside the baby. Surrounded by love and dogs with everything so new and beautiful and promising. |
| Monday, August 25th, 2008 |
| 8:20 pm |
Thomas Edison
Some of you know that I have been living without lighting since I moved into my studio 3 months ago. I have to turn on the kitchen, closet and bathroom lights to have some peripheral lighting in my living room/bedroom. I have one small desklamp that I use to (partially) illuminate my room. It doesn't do much but it at least allows me to read at night. Last night I tripped on the cord and the lamp fell to the ground. The bulb didn't shatter - it just kind of came out of its metal base, the glass part just hanging on by a wire. I twisted it out, replaced it and the light came back. Only it was accompanied by the smell of burning wire. So now I truly am lightless, and writing this by candlelight. I really like being home alone at night, doing my own thing and nourishing myself in various ways. Current Music: radiohead over the downstairs radio |
| Sunday, August 24th, 2008 |
| 7:29 pm |
minutia
Today we went to a once-a-month vintage flea market-y event. There were cookies and juice laid out, and I helped myself to the candy scattered throughout the room. I bought a mirrored candle sconce to put in my kitchen so I can cook by firelight, and a candle stick holder with the dangly crystals that were all over my grandmother's furniture. Then I went to Whole Foods and bought clam chowder and a variety of other goods. Lately I'm in love with clam chowder. I will make up for all that I missed growing up as an unadventurous eater. Even shopping sales ($1.69 for tomato sauce!) my grocery total was $68 for 2 bags. I didn't do my dishes for a spell, long enough for mold to be growing in the fetid water/tomato sauce of my pot. Now I have a tremendous fly problem. They rise around my head in a cloud whenever I move anything in the kitchen. I took all the trash out and did all the dishes and still they persist! I bought a table from someone on Craig's List a few days ago, and the new joy of sitting down to an open surface is pretty great. A place to eat and use my computer and put more crap. Today I hung record frames across my wall. Elliott Smith and Neutral Milk Hotel and Walt art, and blanks waiting for a decision. Next weekend I paint a wall green to "make it pop", common verbage in the decorating magazines that I pore over in a state of determined anguish. If my mind reflects my physical circumstance I will fix everything on the outside in an effort to transform. |
| Friday, August 15th, 2008 |
| 5:20 pm |
Martians?
I'm reading Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. I bought it at Goodwill because I remember what a cultural phenomenon it was when I was a child. It's pretty fun reading but I don't expect to get much from it. "Men and women have forgotten that they were from different planets and are supposed to be completely different. A man gets close but then inevitably needs to pull away. Women will learn how to support this pulling-away process so he will spring back to her like a rubber band. We will explore in chapter 7 how a woman's loving attitudes rise and fall rhythmically in a wave motion. Men will learn how to correctly interpret these sometimes sudden shifts of feeling. Men will learn how to be skillfully supportive at those times without having to make sacrifices." Current Music: Jason Mraz in my head |
| Tuesday, August 5th, 2008 |
| 9:21 pm |
Chatter chatter chatter...
goes the imbecile below me. I'm using that term in the medical sense. Extraordinarily low IQ. I almost have sympathy for him now, he's kind of like a sad and naively hopeful animal. The chains he has around every available body part function like a cowbell, and at the noise of it I dash to the window for further insight. Facts: His mother pays his rent; He is 47 years old (!!!!); He has Bruce Lee posters all over his apartment. He does not own a TV. It's a radio. Last night around midnight the bells jingled down the stairs. He was entirely naked except for what looked like a pair of women's bikini briefs. He knelt at the foot, on the asphalt, and banged something into the ground a few times, as if he were sharpening a nail. He then ran back upstairs and began hammering what sounded like sheet metal. One has to laugh at the absurdity of this. Current Mood:  hopeful |
| Wednesday, June 25th, 2008 |
| 6:14 pm |
I live above a bigot. A hateful, homophobic Christian bigot. I can't express how much this depresses me. I hate my apartment, I dread coming home every day, I'm so frustrated I have to hold myself back from stomping on the floor 'til I bust through his ceiling. The hatred in his voice last night when he said no faggots allowed (randomly and loud enough to break the floor barrier) scares me. All these threatened and hateful people finding justification in god. I saw him this morning on my way to my car. Bright red back pack, kind of short and awkward, crazy amount of chains around his neck, Filipino maybe. I stared at him openly and long, and he looked at me without smiling. He had that aura of weird and intense and creepy. Well, it's 80 degrees in Concord in case you were wondering. He's listening to the weather. |
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