April 20th, 2001


(no subject)

I need to go out to best buy to check out some prices on crrrrrrrrrrap and I'm grouchy at the moment.
No coffee yet.
I HATE no coffee yet.
I realized just a lil while ago that I have two sorts of clothes. I've got tomboy, baggy, bang around outside sort of clothes and I have hoochie mama, tight in the right spots, bang you in the backseat of your car sort of clothes. Trying to get them to coexist so that I don't look like a total whore or one big baggy on any given day is the key.
I guess I'll pick up coffee on the road. Bah.
I'm still annoyed about that no one writing me last night thing. Freakin people.
not ONE Of you is brave enough.

(no subject)

That was a short damned trip.
Would ya believe best buy doens't have any DOCSIS modems? Not even a *shelf lable* for them, dammit.

They always give me funny looks in there because I'm usually wearing something odd (last time it was devil horns, the time before that I had one of those big blown bow ties...) but I was being uber normal today and stuff.
But got stared at because, in addition to the purple hoochimama shirt that was just a wee on the tight side (one of the side effects of nipple piercing is that they're always hard. And one of the side of effects of my particular jewlery is that it makes me look like I've got three nips on each boob.), I had a seemingly burned in waffle pattern on my head.
It took some kid pointing at me and saying "oooh! you've got a weird FACE!" for me to realize that, yes, I did indeed have weirdness going on.
I had fallen asleep with my forehead on Manburger's hospital blanket on his bed this morning. His waffle pattern hospital blanket. That them transfered to my head.
Still haven't had coffee and I am kinda grumpy now.

  • Current Music
    Billy and the Boingers- Luv Rhino

"Hey! You are the evil what turns my dreams bad! Aren't cha?!"

So, I was going through some comics trying to find the graphic of Par' from Poison Elves where he's wearing the Ebola Zaire shirt for my friend Tim because, well, he didn't believe me. Thought I was a total kook. And I ended up pulling out all my oooold comics. JTHM and Lenore... and I realized that I kinda miss being a goth in some ways.
They still make me snort and giggle and I still love the artwork.
I just can't stand what it's all become and how far from it all I've become.
I miss my lil goth cafe with the good poetry and the bad bad coffee and the blue koolaid and the drunken murals down in the bad part of norfolk. I miss the frat wanna be's from ODU driving by screaming "FREAKS" at us when it was too hot inside and we clustered around on the sidewalk. I miss the sXe assholes picking fights and trying to be coo in their big big pants...
I miss a group of people who could finish up "my guardian angel walks away...." without a pause. I miss getting my tabs picked up every poetry slam, either because I won or because Doc was there and he thought I should have.

Hmm.. now I'm all nostalgic.
Because we weren't goths like you see in the malls with their lil lunchboxes and too much makeup. We were this tight lil group of malcontent freaks who just wore what we wanted and never had to prove our cred.
I'm kind of glad that I'm not quite like that anymore.
But of course, I miss it.

And Tim still thinks I'm a kook because I actually have a comic with a skeletonized subconsiousness wearing an Ebola Zaire shirt.
just can't please some people



I made you candy
And little chains of clover flowers and
I showed you how to make a maple seed
Finding a gentle soft spot
we rested
I said too much
You heard none of it.
Lucky for me.
Think I'll stay
my little cloud of groove.
You can keep the lessons, of course.
You can keep the sun dappled on my face
you can keep the pine needles
and the moss
I'll learn tahitian
and snatch up some wild onions to clear my head.
I guess I'm gonna stay

The Phone Slut strikes again

alright. I am making the same deal that I made last night.
On my coast it is officially The Holiday and I am officially freaky feeling and happy and hyper and I want a new voice on my phone.
so. send me a note and give me your number (or I'll give you mine, I don't care) and talk to me.

That sounds horribly pick upish and phone sex like and that's not how I mean it, dammit.

Haven't heard an east coast accent in awhile?
Wondering just what the hot holy hell I sound like?
As long as it's in the contiguous 48, I will be more than happy to oblige.
develop the cojones, peepoles.


(no subject)

I've written rambling letters to two strangers (well, one stranger and one pseudo-kinda stranger, but I feel weird calling him just a stranger because well, I uh, know him sorta without knowing him and well.. I'm just gonna hush now.) and sat around waiting for someone to jump on my offer.. but I only make these offers at one in the morning and well... apparently ya'll are all gainfully employed or still out.
I'm going to lay in bed and stare that matisse print that's on my ceiling and think nice thoughts about blue women and hug some pillows.
I don't know what I would do if it weren't for pillows to hug, man.
And I actually need to sleep tonight.
Because my sister is coming over tomorrow and we're gonna fix my resume and see what we can see about my gainful employment.
The only reason I can be happy about that is that I'm hoping gainful employment will help me start setting up for the things I actually want to do.
STEP BACK, PEOPLE, Holly is actually making *plans*.
Scary stuff, I know.
I don't want to jinx it all though. can't talk about it, hush hush.

I'm gonna be an obsessive freak and check the mail one more time and then I really am gonna go. I'm going to read "The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills" until I can sleep.

and people say I need a webcam.
the words are too much info as it is, people..



I'm leaning... on this broken fence..
Between past and present tense
and I'm losing all these stupid games
That I swore I'd never play.
And it almost feels okay.

Woke up with the Weakerthans in my head. Haven't listened to them in months and months and tada.. there it is.
Whenever that happens I try to look for the connections. I check it out to see what it is about this time that matches up with the time in which I was absorbing that music in the first place..
I'd just lost all the people in my life again.
And I was finding my smile again. So hey, that's not too bad of a feeling to redisocver.
I've got my liquid crack here and I'm gonna swill it for a bit and then I'll hmm.. I don't know what I'll do.



So I stepped outside to wander up and down my lil front walk and sip my liquid crack and breathe some air that hasn't been recycled through the house 300 times (the cause of my early morning nosebleed that made my pillow look like it was bought at a crime scene auction. No, I don't know if they actually have those, but I imagine you could pick up some rather cheap, if horribly stained, furniture and linens).
SO I'm wandering up and down the sidewalk and took of my shoes so that I could walk around in the grass (avoiding the ENORMOUS, MOUNTAINOUS, COLLOSAL dog poopie someone's dog left in the yard and the someone didn't bother to scoop) and my neighbor walked out and decided to chat with me.
She's been there for awile, not as long as my rents though and I remember being a kid and babysitting her kids. One of whom worked at the retail store of **DOOM** I worked at and I was actually his supervisor. That was weird. After all those years, still telling sweet lil Aaron what to do.
She immediatly grated on me. She always does. Shrill voice, too many questions.
"So, got your license back yet? when ya gonna get a car? when ya gonna move out? got another job yet? why did ya quit? got another boyfriend? what happened to the last one? where did he live? where in DC? why did you go out with someone who was so far from you? where are you gonna work? How are you gonna make money? still hanging out with that guy with the mohawk? what happened to the one on the motorcycle? Or that tall one and his friend? Why aren't you dating? why don't you ever wear makeup or do yourself up? you've got such a pretty face, why don't you get contacts? How's your sister? She happy being married? how's your brother? is he out of the hospital? what was wrong with him? isn't it weird having a lil black neice? And lil.. oh what is she, oriental ? neice? "
Nope, no license. When I have the money for a car. When I have the money to move out. No, no job yet. I quit because I needed to. No, no boyfriend. The last one needed to go away. He was in Bristow, just outside of manassas, near DC. Not in DC. Because I liked him. I'll work somwhere I'm sure. I'll make money somehow I'm sure. yes, still hanging out with Sean. The one of the motorcycle is dead. The tall one is busy with work and his band. His friend is busy with work, school, and his very successful band. I'm not dating because va beach is a cesspit of cologne and tans. I don't wear makeup because I like my face as it is. I don't get contacts because I like my glasses too. My sister is fine. She's married, and she's satisfied. My brother is fine. So is the other brother. Yes, he's out. Pancreatitis, followed by blood clots and fluid on his lungs. No, not weird at all until people start asking questions like that. She's filipino and no, she's absolutely wonderful.

most of my answers are as short as possible. But, she really pissed me off with that thing at the end.
YES. I have a neice named Casey who is just the silliest, giggliest, freakiest lil chick I know. She's nine and she's beautiful. She's my brother's step-daughter, his wife's daughter from a previous marriage and she's just... wonderful. Despite the fact that she's taller than me.
and YES, I have another neice, the same brother's daughter from HIS previous marriage who's half filipino and she was at my house every day of her life from birth til 3 years old. I helped raised her. I changed her and burped her and played with her and watched her and cooed and jumped and ran and laughed with her. She's just so beautiful.
And they're both nine and now they're sisters and they're incredible creatures.

hmm.. what was my point here?
OH, well, yeah.. she also had comments about my clothes (baggy), my skin color (far too pale) and my coffee cup (black with white letters reading "FUCK DECAF")
I was in full retreat.

just wanted to walk in some grass, dammit.


(no subject)

Bryan: Today's 4/20 and I don't think I'm gonna smoke up...it's a shame
VERT: yeah, I know.. I know tons of people talking about the holiday and I've got no green and nowhere to get any
Bryan: I could cry
VERT: you could.. but then I'd have to call you sissy boy and you don't want that to happen
Bryan: Real men cry
VERT: Real Men beat up other men.
the GOOD men cry
Bryan: I'm...good
Bryan: In bed, of course
VERT: of course...
VERT: i wouldn't think of you any other way
VERT: Bryan... sex GOD
Bryan: I'm talking about pillow fights
Bryan: My record 43-2 with 11 KOs

(no subject)

I keep getting random people on lj.
so far every page is blue and every person has been a musician.
part of me wants to say that this means something.
the other part says that they're just looking for an outlet for their songs.

it's disturbing nonetheless.
I need to learn to stop reading things into stuff like this.
always too on the lookout for signs and symbols.

it's just that symbology is so important to me. It's always always always lead me around.
Of course, it's not always done well by me, but it's hasn't gotten me killed yet.


okey dokey

all fixed.
the date on my puter was a day ahead and in the wrong time period.
so to fix it, I fixed the date, deleted all the entries from today that popped up as tomorrow and reposted them as today, which actually has everything from yesterday.

Go on, go on, tell me the cat is in the box at all so that I can call you a liar.


gigglin madly

commercial on TV for procrit
which is a drug for kemo patients. for them to regain some strength after therapy.

That part is okay.
it's the older man standing on the bank of some sort of body of water, holding a fishing pole and exclaiming, "I CAUGHT A FISH!" and beaming with pride that I can't stop laughing at.

commercials are so inane nine times out of ten, but drug company commercials really do just beat out everything else.

OOoooH. a genital herpes commercial!

This is why i don't watch tv, folks.


curiouser and curiouser

So I step outside with a wineglass in my hand because, well, I was drinking wine, and there was an interesting song coming from a car.
I wandered around out there til the song was over... and then another I liked came on... never heard any of this before in my life. I don't know who they're even by.
It's hip hop. That's all I can tell ya.
The car is out on the street with about 4 guys milling around it, just hanging out, and one guy IN the car... can't really see him because of the other guys blocking him.
So I just stay out there for about half an hour, bouncing along at my own little distance. And then I sat and lounged, half concealed in the hibiscus at the end of the walk. Then I realize that the car is coming up the driveway. I just kept bouncing, but watched because, well, my neighborhood is not nice and I'm not stupid.
The dude pulled up along next to me and he gave me this huuuuge grin and asked me if I wanted to dance.
So I said "hell yes."
so we danced in my driveway for about 3 songs until his friends finally wandered over and they had to split for their own festivities.
He kissed my hand and that was that.

too damned sweet.
I know who I would have preferred it to be.. but... that's just not gonna happen.
heh.. not for awhile anyway.

plans plans plans.


Today's Special

"The Beet is the most intense of vegetables. The radish, admittedly, is more feverish, but the fire of the radish is a cold fire, the fire of discontent not of passion. Tomatoes are lusty enough, yet there runs through tomatoes an undercurrent of frivolity. Beets are deadly serious.
Slavic peoples get their physical characteristics from potatoes, their smoldering inquietude from radishes, their seriousness from beets.
The beet is the melancholy vegetable, the one most willing to suffer. You can't squeeze blood out of a *turnip*...
The beet is the murderer returned to the scene of the crime. The beet is what happens when the cherry finished with the carrot. The beet is the ancient censor of the autumn moon, bearded, buried, all but fossilized; the dark green sails of the grounded moon-boat stitched with veins of primordial plasma; the kite string that once connected the moon to the Earth now a muddy whisker drilling desperately for rubies.
The beet was Rasputin's favorite vegetable. you could see it in the his eyes.
In Europe there is grown widely a large beet they call the mangel-wurzel. Perhaps it is mangel-wurzel that we see in Rasputin. Certainly there is mangel-wurzel in the music of Wagner, although it is another composer whose name begins, B-e-e-t--
Of course, there are white beets, beets that ooze sugar water instead of blood, but it is the red beet with which we are concerned; the variety that blushes and swells like a hemorrhoid, a hemorrhoid for which there is no cure. (Actually, there is one remedy: commission a potter to make you a ceramic asshole-and when you aren't sitting on it, you can use it as a bowl for borscht.)
An old Ukrainian proverb warns, "A tale that begins with a beet will end with the devil."
That is a risk we will have to take. "

That, folks is why I love Tom Robbins.



Rhett: You would have to walk over here, kick me in the nuts, and throw me off a bridge before I begin to stop loving you.

SO. I'm gonna have to go to the west damned coast to find a flock.