Saturday, November 22, 2008

I think it was called the Shivers

Oh hi.

I like how the cold weather is giving me good hair.

Pam is back from her trip to LA/Mexico thank god.
It was getting unbearable, my couch missed her.
Last night she came over, then Mercy and Alex appeared as well, it was a nice little gathering.
We sat in the front room which is super weird because I'm so accustomed to hosting guests in the back.
Totally uninteresting topic!

Remember SARS yall?

Pam bought some nice little presents for us on the west non-best coast.
This book is a winner.
I think Mercy was slightly offended that it was chosen for her, but I'm a little jelly that I didn't get it.
Its really quotable.

I love the way they look.
Mercy is running away soon to Oregon and then Berlin or some wacky bullshit like that.
Sometime I wish that was my style, hitting the road like psht how about Germany?
But that's just not me.
I'm a gypsy in mind not in practice.

Whats the big deal?
So I fell on a fence and broke the fall using my eyeball.
Typical day.
Oh just a few weeks ago.
Why did I fall?
I was tired and hot from drumming. I guess I just got too excited!
I'm telling you.
All musicians are cracked.
His eye is totally fine by the way.
After a little surgery to reattach his tear duct or some horrendous thing like that.
Alex has pet birds flying free in his apartment and he keeps their food in an open pizza box on the floor.
I rest my case.

Whenever anyone is looking at me I make ugly faces as a punishment to myself so I will never been seen as a pretty girl.
That's my theory.
Take it or leave it.
PS I don't care who you are, if you wear a ballerina dress anytime anywhere, you will feel magic happen.
Its practically the same thing as walking around with a dove in your pants.

My ass entered the Best in Show contest.
It was up against Jesus, some biracial babies, a couple of puppies, Helen Mirren's face, Beyonce's fierceness, and that cat that opens jars of peanuts.
My ass won.
We celebrated for hours.

Here's the LIFE magazine Katie got published in.
You're a successful photojournalist and you will be remembered for all of time!
I think its pretty amazing, she has a two page spread of her photo of Barack, its HUGE!
Sometimes I look at her and I think, wow, I really haven't done shit!
Shes working for the Times, getting herself out there, really succeeding by doing the thing she loves.
Check her out sometime
I'm passionate about very little except gentle make out seshes in my room and telling funny jokes.
How do I make that a career?

Soon as I got good and sauced, I decided it was djembe drum time.
Not me djembe, Alex djembe.
I don't really know what it is thats so amazing about drums, they are just so right.
Peep the amazing boy on the wall, art by Hiyme Brummett
I was a patron of the arts yesterday and ran by his studio to make my investment.
I'm really happy with the boy, it shall inspire me in many ways when I'm sitting in my office pretending to be busy.
Last time I sat in there I sang the Hot Pockets theme song to myself for like 20 minutes.
Then I remixed it.

Look I made art too
I'm done talking about yesterday because yesterday isn't here anymore!

I'm tired and I feel especially lonely right now thinking about missing someone a little bit.
That's the thing about being a girl.
You get to dress like a ballerina or a sexy hobo or a teenage princess in hiding, but you also have to be totally soft inside.
And when you admit what it is you want, then you have to own up to how hard its going to be to find.
Then once you find it you have to work to hold onto it without coming across as needy, psychotic and lame.

Love is like having to pee but knowing there is no bathroom anywhere near.
At some point you will let go and it will feel awesome, but you will probably spend a lot of time running around trying to hold everything in on the verge of exploding.
And pee explosions are gross and people will point and laugh at you.
And you will be cold and wet and feel betrayed by your own dummy bladder.


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