Wednesday, October 28, 2009

i won't stay awake if i can't kiss your fingers

only have one page of my stupid astronomy paper about space junk. freaking professor never really specified how many pages we are supposed to write ("not twenty"). i am gonna wake up and write the rest tomorrow before class UGH i will be lucky if i can get two more pages out of this thing before i die of apathy. i would rather be learning anything else at this exact moment... boo.
the rest of my day was unspectacular: emma goldman in history, A+ 100 on my grammar exam, cut off from cowpie and exiled to the deli bar at gladfelter, a return to obsessive filing at work, radical politics queer circle, and 11pm chowtime cheese pizza with ben while we attempt to write about space.
why am i alive awake at all?

listening to: throwing muses - city of the dead

Monday, October 26, 2009

i woke up early just to see you fly away

yogi the yoga bear says we will cool down really quickly after today's set, since we're so warm. doesn't she know i'm a lizard?
at tonight's radical mental health collective meeting, we did some really intense check-ins and then... made "art". see here.
it's after midnight, i haven't done any homework, yet i am blogging. ahh... feels like the good old days high school.

listening to: the microphones - i'll be in the air

Sunday, October 25, 2009

would you believe we have a lot to let go?

how did two weeks go by without any activity on this sad little blog? i'll give you the easy answer: midterms and fall break.
so, not a lot of time for writing and reflecting lately. in fact i feel rather out of practice... part of me wants to write an extremely detailed post about what's been going on, but the other part of me wants to forget about it. in-between currently seems impossible.
i guess the weirdest thing is that i went to my first funeral. my great aunt ella died on the 13th, with no clue where she was, but surrounded by family nonetheless. the funeral was in north georgia, so mom drove in to asheville to pick us up last friday. i felt like a freak with my green hair, like no one but my grandparents really wanted to see me. the weirdest part was the bizarre division between the reality of death and the falseness of the whole thing: the slices of astro turf, blue fuzzy stuff covering the folding chairs, some preacher shaking my hand "bless you" that neither i nor ella even knew. before the service, they opened the coffin, even though they had had a viewing the day before.. i guess this was my first dead body too. i wasn't sure what i was supposed to do, other than look in there at all the pinkness they covered her in, and wonder if she was better off, and hope i never get that old and get covered in pink frills and stared at in a wooden box. i would have expected myself to just think that stuff and feel pretty disconnected from the whole weird experience -- the religion, and the guy talking like ella was a saint for billy graham, and the pinkness, and everything all fake. but my biggest impression was in her stillness, and how close i felt to it. and the wind was blowing the bible and the guestbook nearly off the little dinky podium. and there were only about a dozen chairs, and about 20 or so attendees, and no one would take the last five chairs. i wonder if that would be a sort of southern phenomenon, or if that happens at every funeral with too few chairs. and suddenly it was just over, some cousin or some such was shooing us youngins away, telling us that the funeral director wanted to lower the coffin, and could we kindly walk back to the cars. no one followed us, of course. we tread down that hill of bodies alone, trying to pick out the most unoffensive path with little success. there was no wake, no food, no alcohol, no commiseration. just naps in separate rooms in separate hotels, across a strange little town we hardly knew, that chanda swore was run by inbreds, or at least that's what she saw at the cvs. no one really talked about the funeral, or about ella, after that, except when grandma gave morgan one of her old coats, also pink and fluffy. and that was that. i didn't give my condolences to anyone. i didn't apologize or comfort or anything... who would i have chosen? who should i have felt sorry for? i think we all knew that she wasn't happy living anymore and secretly prayed that our lives wouldn't deteriorate like that, whether or not we believed she was ascending through the pearly gates. and that was my first funeral. today i put the coat in the free store.

listening to: karl blau - mockingbird diet

Friday, October 09, 2009

i don't remember what this means anymore

another possum, stock still in the right middle of the darkly wound road. beautiful, i see glowing eyes. i thank my professor for braking.
girl on bus tells me she doesnt like them.

have i rediscovered a secret to sleeping? the old fetal position i used to do all the time, before i started spooning.

three green sprouts in my salsa jar.


it was only small because everything was samll.


image through a video. maube?
oobebesessiososonnn

i need meaing
]he said...
belifs???

Thursday, October 08, 2009

it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me

i dreamed about hiking/climbing trees across an island forest with some people (dudes?) and later going to a small convenience store and walking around late at night with my granny. suddenly it was dawn, and she figured we had talked all night, but i thought the sun was playing tricks.
i only remember this dream because i woke up a couple minutes before my alarm for once.
a few minutes later, i looked out the window and had one of these thoughts: "that looks way too real." how can i tell?
there's a tapping on the bottom of my left foot. i wish it would stop.
my right nostril is stopped up. i really don't want to get sick right now.
today i have class from 9:30 to 12:20, 2:30 to 6, 8:30 to 10:30. i'm going to see some friends open for zoe boekbinder at sage at 7pm. i have a midterm to take, and lots of stupid errands i have been putting off. wish me luck...

listening to: nina simone - feeling good

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

here's to our wings, not knowing why they wilt

fuck my heart in my throat for choking my voice and letting it linger. fuck this feeling all the time.
today i worked for six hours on a bibliography of criticism, reviews, and articles about margaret cavendish. it was intense and i'm glad i'm not working tomorrow.
tonight, the full circle group met for the first time this semester. it was morgan, four of my close friends, plus hannah and luna, who seem to be organizing, and kelsey from recycling. i felt a little out of place at first, but i think it does make sense for me to be there in some ways. the group is talking mostly, i think, about relationships between body and food, but i think that other body issues will enter the conversation as well.
since the meeting, i've been screwin around in morgan and aimee's room with them, eva, and renee. we are ridiculous. very little homework was done. which means i need to go now and finish studying for my world cinema midterm tomorrow and also do my history reading, in my newly tea-christened textbook. i think it is the fate of all my textbooks to be covered in tea this semester. at least this spill was green, not black.

listening to: why are we building such a big ship? - vultures

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

temper and tempest to knock at the moon

the cows are louder than ever tonight. you'd think this would feel calming, rural, rustic, but ever since i found out the truth, it has become sort of terrible. i really can't explain how painful they sound, how devastated i feel, and how haunted i will be.....
a while ago, i got back from my first meeting for my UK study abroad class. it was, as i had predicted based on the email i got last night, slightly obnoxious and elementary. we did some "sensory exercises" where we listened to a song or smelled something in a bag and then went around a circle and told what memories or emotions were stirred up by the prompts. i HATE this kind of thing, i hate stupid sense memory, i dont know who invented it, i dont understand it. i had NO memories related to the sesame street theme song or to the smell of curry powder. the first time around i said 'i dont know' and the second time i made something up. fuck that stupid shit FUCK IT i am not a baby can we talk about katharine briggs yet???? lyn had some more things planned for that game but luckily we only did two. then ian (born in england) read us a story and a poem and we talked about the concept of narrative.. again, pretty basic, simplified stuff, and i didnt really agree with all of it but it wasn't exactly a discussion. i am the only lit major in the group.. there are a lot of writing majors, a few environmental science types, and two business. everyone seems nice enough, but they all seem to know each other already, and i feel like they gave me a weird look when i walked in. lyn said i was the only person she didn't know already... i kept feeling like i had missed out on some secret meeting, have i done something wrong? at the end of the class ian unpacked his suitcases to show us what we should bring on the trip. this was really intimidating and made me worried. i hate the idea of a plane, i hate the idea of the tube, i hate myself for knowing how stupid i will be, too scared to order a drink at the pub. however, i was cheered knowing we will be visiting the homes of william wordsworth and beatrix potter, and going on long walks across the countryside. also ian says that when we're in london, he will give us each some money, and we will go to second-hand stores and buy crazy clothes to wear to the theatre. i like his attitude of traveling light, taking only things that are expendable, and getting rid of stuff as you go, if you find something better. i especially like the concept of being small that they were talking about.. not taking up too much space in order to better absorb new surroundings and trying to melt into the culture. so anyway, as a whole, i guess i'm getting excited about the trip, but i'm really terrified and i think the class might irritate the fuck out of me.. we have to make stupid time capsules for the next meeting. UGH what am i, 9 years old?
so, this weekend renee helped me dye my hair. i have been talking about it for a looong time, but somehow never really solidified what i wanted. so this plan turned into a lot of impulsive decisions, and i'm not really sure how i feel about the result.. i keep going back and forth. right now my whole head just feels like a pile of spontaneity that wasn't necessarily the 'right' decision. it went like this:
  • a few week ago, i asked aimee to cut my hair. i would have preferred her to do whatever, but she wasn't comfortable with that, so she asked me to come up with something.
  • i was itching so bad for the cut, that i just sorta gave her a bad description of a sorta-kinda thing, and she did what she thought i wanted.. it didn't come out how i pictured.. much shorter and more perfectly stylized than i had hoped.
  • thought about cutting off the rest of my hair... but didn't.
  • craving dark green in my hair like a mermaid or a tree. rite aid doesnt have green dye, and walgreens just has 'neon green.' renee convinces me this is what i want, and i figure it'll be okay.
  • renee and i set to work, but what to do? should we cut it as well? where should the dye go? i have not thought about these things at all.
  • renee and morgan agree: more short bangs. a quick chop and it's done. i think i do like this, but it's not much of a haircut.
  • my ideas for dying are the same as my directions to aimee for the cut: confused and vague. renee has a couple ideas, and we just sorta set to it.
  • after i wash out the bleach, i realize i shouldn't have left it in so long. the bright green would have come out darker on light brown hair.
  • halfway through dyeing, i have an idea for what we should have done. but it's far too late.
so, i went to bed with dye and tinfoil on my head and woke up to... what? well, the green is not not not at all what i wanted, and i'm not sure how i feel about it. i wanted something much more subtle... so i'm debating getting some different, darker dye. but i might just let this fade out first. i feel like a spectacle again, the way i used to feel all the time at loyola. not quite as bad, i guess. i *do* love to be a cartoon, but this is maybe a little much. yesterday morgan called me a muppet, a froot loop, and a melted crayon. definitely not my intention.
i can't believe i just rambled so long about my hair. fuck me. am i this lonely? i think i am just obsessed with the documentation. anyway, fuck it all, i need to be less of a perfectionist anyway. who cares about my stupid hair or that i am talking about it.
in other news, the radical mental health collective last night was amazing... so much better than last week. i really like the smaller size, it seems like we could build a really strong support network for each other. i was really amazed by everyone's openness and, in turn, the respect they were shown by the group. yes, i think it's going to blossom into something really wonderful.
right now i have so much on my mind, i don't know what to do with myself, so i do this blog and play the banjo and make stupid jokes with my friends. the reality is that i have about a gazillion very serious emails to write and calls to make and serious serious business to attend to.
FOR INSTANCE i have a lab report and paper proposal due tomorrow yayyyyyyy good night

listening to: throwing muses - green

Monday, October 05, 2009

email from comrade tom

dateMon, Oct 5, 2009 at 3:04 AM
subjectoh that's it



"you put the parts in there
they don't mean the same thing
but i take what i get"

is what i meant the whole time!

Saturday, October 03, 2009

what to do?

should i go to a smart people potluck/party or a g20 arrestees fundraiser or wallow in my room all night?
(i slept till 3:45 today.)

obvervances of the last 20 minutes

--opossum appears out of the depths of sunderland darkness to scavenge for food, find and open a pizza box, and loudly crunch on crusts and crumbs. comes as close as 3 feet?
--a light in the bright full moon fog: lonely individual skips the smoking hut to stand at the foot of the hill. let them keep it, walk to the bridge.
--from under the bridge, a fluffy bundle atop a person creeping towards the vining treehouse. did something run you from the woods?
--a crisp, creaky crackling begins in the schafer trees and lurches towards dorland. it's almost overhead, the sound of tiny pebbles hitting leaves, but i can't feel anything.
--no memory of opening the door