things have certainly gotten a little weirder. but in a better, kinder sort of way. my world is more bizarre and upside down than it's ever been, and although all that furniture is still glued to the ceiling, i'm starting to get used to the new places everything is, and maybe one day i'll start being able to take it all down and put it back where it belongs.
i miss different things than i thought i would, and i don't miss things that i thought i was going to miss horribly. some things are just as expected, though. i love seeing my friends again, and talking to sini and james again. aaron coming home is weird and awkward and i don't really know how to deal with it. my dad is dispicable and obnoxcious enough to make my fingernails go instinctually toward my eyes every time he starts to speak. my sister is wonderous, my sewing machine is broken, my christmas presents are thoughtful, and my job is fun. some things are completely expected.
and some thing are so completely unexpected that i feel like i've had the rug ripped out from under me and i'm still flying through the air. i feel suspended above the ground, just waiting for things to crash. i guess we'll see.
what else can i say? i've been out of words lately, you can ask my friends. i can't even explain it to them, barely to myself.
but god am i having the best time i've had in years.
<3 gen
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
partie une
the first intallment of one hundred things
1-25
1. i am a different girl than i once was. i don't put my faith in things anymore, and some people think that's sad- i think it's smart
2. i will not get a good grade in lab
3. i drink too much milk
4. "samson" is a beautiful song by regina spektor
5. my laptop is warming my lap
6. watch this
7. this year i have reached a whole new level of procrastination
8. i am keeping my sharpies in a giant glass bottle which i think will prove less convenient than i first believed
9. does anyone know what any of this means?
10. boys kissing is pretty cute
11. i might or might not still like my ex-boyfriend- not that that narrows it down much
12. i painted a new birdhouse
13. "you are my sweetest downfall"
14. i bought 'chocolate mint truffle' coffee creamer because there was a snowman on the container
15. ~should have been born into a trust fund, now seeks dashing elderly benefactor~
16. my room is a mess
17. IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY I HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY
18. every day it gets a little bit harder
19. i might go vegan over christmas break
20. i collaged my little table and it looks very good and it sort of made me believe i was an artist after all
21. i love kissing, but don't do it enough
22. i have a paper due tomorrow, plus a french exam, and i'm doing this instead
23. i don't give a damn about philosophy
24. at this point, i would probably sleep with my lab TA for a good grade
25.
1-25
1. i am a different girl than i once was. i don't put my faith in things anymore, and some people think that's sad- i think it's smart
2. i will not get a good grade in lab
3. i drink too much milk
4. "samson" is a beautiful song by regina spektor
5. my laptop is warming my lap
6. watch this
7. this year i have reached a whole new level of procrastination
8. i am keeping my sharpies in a giant glass bottle which i think will prove less convenient than i first believed
9. does anyone know what any of this means?
10. boys kissing is pretty cute
11. i might or might not still like my ex-boyfriend- not that that narrows it down much
12. i painted a new birdhouse
13. "you are my sweetest downfall"
14. i bought 'chocolate mint truffle' coffee creamer because there was a snowman on the container
15. ~should have been born into a trust fund, now seeks dashing elderly benefactor~
16. my room is a mess
17. IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY I HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY
18. every day it gets a little bit harder
19. i might go vegan over christmas break
20. i collaged my little table and it looks very good and it sort of made me believe i was an artist after all
21. i love kissing, but don't do it enough
22. i have a paper due tomorrow, plus a french exam, and i'm doing this instead
23. i don't give a damn about philosophy
24. at this point, i would probably sleep with my lab TA for a good grade
25.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
disillusionment of ten o'clock
okay, now this is just getting out of hand.
on the plus side, my life is never, ever boring.
dear god.
break needs to be here
RIGHT NOW.
<3gen
on the plus side, my life is never, ever boring.
dear god.
break needs to be here
RIGHT NOW.
<3gen
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
you are my sweetest downfall
i loved you first, i loved you first
it's baffling sometimes how quickly things can change. one minute a place for everything and everything it's place, three seconds later your furniture is glued to the ceiling. and you look around the room and think "how did this happen?" you trusted that things were the way they were, not good or bad but just that they were, and that was how they would stay. you thought, of all the things in the world, you at least had faith in the chair being in the corner and the table next to it and the shelves against the far wall. you knew each piece, they were your friends. they stayed where you put them, they held you when you were tired.
then one day, you walk in the door and it's turned around and on the ceiling. you scream. you trusted them, you thought you knew everything about every piece of every one and they betrayed you. they've moved and changed.
they've started falling back in love with you.
or they've stopped calling because they don't need you now.
or they've started getting drunk at noon and staying that way.
and you think, "gosh, i never really knew them at all."
i feel like i've already learned this lesson before. i feel like this should be routine.
it never is.
the history books forgot about us,
and the bible didn't mention us,
not even once
<3gen
it's baffling sometimes how quickly things can change. one minute a place for everything and everything it's place, three seconds later your furniture is glued to the ceiling. and you look around the room and think "how did this happen?" you trusted that things were the way they were, not good or bad but just that they were, and that was how they would stay. you thought, of all the things in the world, you at least had faith in the chair being in the corner and the table next to it and the shelves against the far wall. you knew each piece, they were your friends. they stayed where you put them, they held you when you were tired.
then one day, you walk in the door and it's turned around and on the ceiling. you scream. you trusted them, you thought you knew everything about every piece of every one and they betrayed you. they've moved and changed.
they've started falling back in love with you.
or they've stopped calling because they don't need you now.
or they've started getting drunk at noon and staying that way.
and you think, "gosh, i never really knew them at all."
i feel like i've already learned this lesson before. i feel like this should be routine.
it never is.
the history books forgot about us,
and the bible didn't mention us,
not even once
<3gen
Monday, December 04, 2006
guilty feet ain't got no rhythm
how sad is it, exactly, that whenever i feel sad or lonely, i watch videos on you tube about tommy and kimberly romance from power rangers?
really really sad?
devastatingly sad?
sad enough to where you believe i really shouldn't be let out in public?
yeah, it's strange, i admit. but it says alot about me. i don't want a boyfriend. i don't want another ryan spain. i don't want a jeremy, or an aaron, or even a james. i don't want a connor or a corey or a daniel or a thomas or any of those boys or any more boys to come.
i want a tommy. i want a white ranger. or a harry potter, or the harry who met sally, or a leopold, or an aiden, or any of those hundreds of fantasy men who are perfect and everything you need until the credits roll. they all come around just when you need them, and they say the things you want and they hold you like they're supposed to and things get warmer.
that's what i want. the not real.
something that's not real. because real gets too real. real goes on for years. real involves commitment and planning and confusion and banality. i don't want those fantasy men to be real, i want them to stay fake, to stay impossible. because when you get the real thing, when you think you've found everything you could possibly ever want, when one boy starts marking things off your list of "dream boy" qualities, you realize that you wanted more than that. you realize that those tiny little qualities do not come together to make happy. you realize that those fantasies are better left fantasies, because they don't translate well into reality at all. not at all.
i want the not real.
the perfect without the stale.
the boy without the relationship.
i want to be able to cue the credits.
<3gen
really really sad?
devastatingly sad?
sad enough to where you believe i really shouldn't be let out in public?
yeah, it's strange, i admit. but it says alot about me. i don't want a boyfriend. i don't want another ryan spain. i don't want a jeremy, or an aaron, or even a james. i don't want a connor or a corey or a daniel or a thomas or any of those boys or any more boys to come.
i want a tommy. i want a white ranger. or a harry potter, or the harry who met sally, or a leopold, or an aiden, or any of those hundreds of fantasy men who are perfect and everything you need until the credits roll. they all come around just when you need them, and they say the things you want and they hold you like they're supposed to and things get warmer.
that's what i want. the not real.
something that's not real. because real gets too real. real goes on for years. real involves commitment and planning and confusion and banality. i don't want those fantasy men to be real, i want them to stay fake, to stay impossible. because when you get the real thing, when you think you've found everything you could possibly ever want, when one boy starts marking things off your list of "dream boy" qualities, you realize that you wanted more than that. you realize that those tiny little qualities do not come together to make happy. you realize that those fantasies are better left fantasies, because they don't translate well into reality at all. not at all.
i want the not real.
the perfect without the stale.
the boy without the relationship.
i want to be able to cue the credits.
<3gen
Friday, December 01, 2006
you're easier to describe in metaphor
i hate to do another negative post so quickly after one completely devoted to hatred. and yet, here we are smack in the middle of another emo, self-depracating blog post. hooray.
i didn't mean to miss french this morning.
i decorated our door in our room for christmas.
joe came in to give a tour, and i got sad because i've always wanted to give tours of blount, and i've asked to many times, but no one ever asks me to and i don't think anyone wants me to just because i don't hang out with people in the dorm that often.
i went to the thrift store.
i left my credit card in the room which meant i had to use my very last cash and change to my name to put gas in my car.
i can't get more cash because the credit union doesn't take temporary liscenses and since i just got mine renewed i can't get cash out for 2 weeks.
which means i have no cigarettes.
and won't for quite a while.
i found a dress that was really nice but eventually put it back because i wam just kidding myself thinking i can fit into a size 10.
a sixe ten is rather large.
a skinny girl my age with her cute boyfriend picked up the dress right after me.
it will look great on her.
she will look great with her boyfriend.
my father called then, asking me when my reading got out.
my reading at 4:30.
it was 4:55.
i forgot to go to the reading and it was my last chance.
i don't know how badly it will hurt my grade.
i'm not going to get good grades this semester.
and that is all my fault.
just like it's my fault that i'm alone.
that i'm a size 14.
that i have no money.
that my father is mad at me.
that i swerved on the highway from crying.
some people just have unlucky lives.
<3gen
i didn't mean to miss french this morning.
i decorated our door in our room for christmas.
joe came in to give a tour, and i got sad because i've always wanted to give tours of blount, and i've asked to many times, but no one ever asks me to and i don't think anyone wants me to just because i don't hang out with people in the dorm that often.
i went to the thrift store.
i left my credit card in the room which meant i had to use my very last cash and change to my name to put gas in my car.
i can't get more cash because the credit union doesn't take temporary liscenses and since i just got mine renewed i can't get cash out for 2 weeks.
which means i have no cigarettes.
and won't for quite a while.
i found a dress that was really nice but eventually put it back because i wam just kidding myself thinking i can fit into a size 10.
a sixe ten is rather large.
a skinny girl my age with her cute boyfriend picked up the dress right after me.
it will look great on her.
she will look great with her boyfriend.
my father called then, asking me when my reading got out.
my reading at 4:30.
it was 4:55.
i forgot to go to the reading and it was my last chance.
i don't know how badly it will hurt my grade.
i'm not going to get good grades this semester.
and that is all my fault.
just like it's my fault that i'm alone.
that i'm a size 14.
that i have no money.
that my father is mad at me.
that i swerved on the highway from crying.
some people just have unlucky lives.
<3gen
Thursday, November 30, 2006
a song that leonard wrote for me
"Why don't you try" by Leonard Cohen
Why don't you try to do without him?
Why don't you try to live alone?
Do you really need his hands for your passion?
Do you really need his heart for your throne?
Do you need his labour for your baby?
Do you need his beast for the bone?
Do you need to hold a leash to be a lady?
I know you're going to make, make it on your own.
Why don't your try to forget him?
Just open up your dainty little hand.
You know this life is filled with many sweet companions,
many satisfying one-night stands.
Do you want to be the ditch around a tower?
Do you want to be the moonlight in his cave?
Do you want to give your blessing to his power
as he goes whistling past his daddy, past his daddy's grave
Why don't you try to do without him?
Why don't you try to live alone?
Do you really need his hands for your passion?
Do you really need his heart for your throne?
Do you need his labour for your baby?
Do you need his beast for the bone?
Do you need to hold a leash to be a lady?
I know you're going to make, make it on your own.
Why don't your try to forget him?
Just open up your dainty little hand.
You know this life is filled with many sweet companions,
many satisfying one-night stands.
Do you want to be the ditch around a tower?
Do you want to be the moonlight in his cave?
Do you want to give your blessing to his power
as he goes whistling past his daddy, past his daddy's grave
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
the beauty of roommates
[breaking sounds]
me: quit breaking shit!
lindsey from the bathroom: don't tell me what to do.
me: wow, we should open a window to let out the fumes.
lindsey: or we could just get high.
me: lindsey we really need a baby seal.
lindsey: you're right.
me: oh lindsey! my new car has buttons!
lindsey: you need buttons.
me: lindsey, i'm having this big problem with splenda.
lindsey: sounds epic.
lindsey: i really like it when i look at the clock exactly ten minutes after the last time i looked at the clock.
me: how often does that happen?
lindsey: pretty much never, but when it does. oh man.
me: god damn i wish this girl would stop inviting me to her party, i'm not going.
lindsey: hey, some people would kill to have your problems
lindsey: it sucks when i'm eating my sandwich and i have to ask, "was that my fake meat, or a napkin?"
me: that doesn't say much for your fake meat.
lindsey: yeah, especially because i don't even have a napkin.
and just now:
me: i am not finding near as many lindsey quotes as i had first hoped
lindsey: yeah, i'm pretty elusive
sometimes i wish i could stay in this room forever.
<3 ashes
me: quit breaking shit!
lindsey from the bathroom: don't tell me what to do.
me: wow, we should open a window to let out the fumes.
lindsey: or we could just get high.
me: lindsey we really need a baby seal.
lindsey: you're right.
me: oh lindsey! my new car has buttons!
lindsey: you need buttons.
me: lindsey, i'm having this big problem with splenda.
lindsey: sounds epic.
lindsey: i really like it when i look at the clock exactly ten minutes after the last time i looked at the clock.
me: how often does that happen?
lindsey: pretty much never, but when it does. oh man.
me: god damn i wish this girl would stop inviting me to her party, i'm not going.
lindsey: hey, some people would kill to have your problems
lindsey: it sucks when i'm eating my sandwich and i have to ask, "was that my fake meat, or a napkin?"
me: that doesn't say much for your fake meat.
lindsey: yeah, especially because i don't even have a napkin.
and just now:
me: i am not finding near as many lindsey quotes as i had first hoped
lindsey: yeah, i'm pretty elusive
sometimes i wish i could stay in this room forever.
<3 ashes
Monday, November 27, 2006
his korean wife
as of late, i hate things. and hate takes alot of energy. i know that just two posts ago i was knee-deep in squishy, hard-to-wade-through love. but now, after a certainly less-than-stellar thanksgiving, which is the understatement of the century, i find myself listing things i hate, rather than can't live without.
i hate that i can't post here how sad and lonely and dissapointed i've been feeling because my ex boyfriend will read it and worry his pretty little head and freak the fuck out and want to know what's wrong and why it's wrong and how he can fix it when, if he understood things as all, he would know that is the last thing i want from an angry rant on my blog.
i hate my father. i hate every thing that he does and every thing that he causes and creates. i hate that he hates me. i hate that i can't get over than no matter what i do.
i hate that i can't come up with great lines like lindsey, or write humor like sini, or be sweet like laura, or keep myself at a distance like cooper, or not be affected by anything like my sister, or let things go like my mother.
i hate that my dreams lately have been nothing but romance and kissing and rescues and torrential love affairs acted out in rain and carseats.
i hate that no matter how much my brain begs me not to, my heart craves relationships in a way that is neither healthy nor comforting.
i hate that something i love i must keep far, far away.
i hate that i am spending so much time hating.
it hurts.
<3ashes
i hate that i can't post here how sad and lonely and dissapointed i've been feeling because my ex boyfriend will read it and worry his pretty little head and freak the fuck out and want to know what's wrong and why it's wrong and how he can fix it when, if he understood things as all, he would know that is the last thing i want from an angry rant on my blog.
i hate my father. i hate every thing that he does and every thing that he causes and creates. i hate that he hates me. i hate that i can't get over than no matter what i do.
i hate that i can't come up with great lines like lindsey, or write humor like sini, or be sweet like laura, or keep myself at a distance like cooper, or not be affected by anything like my sister, or let things go like my mother.
i hate that my dreams lately have been nothing but romance and kissing and rescues and torrential love affairs acted out in rain and carseats.
i hate that no matter how much my brain begs me not to, my heart craves relationships in a way that is neither healthy nor comforting.
i hate that something i love i must keep far, far away.
i hate that i am spending so much time hating.
it hurts.
<3ashes
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
joy to the world
sometimes i love my life.
i love my little to-do list next to my closet.
i love making bacon egg and cheese sandwiches and watching cooking shows.
i love spending my own, hard-earned money.
i love my stuffed animals sitting on my books.
i love having a printer.
i love my fabric-covered tv.
i love having a place for everything.
i love washing my own dishes.
i love my beautiful room.
i love it when my roommate says things like:
"hey guys, it's 2006, why am i still having to walk places?"
i love new friends who are good for me.
i love having school supplies.
i love packing for home.
i love having a home.
i love making coffee in the mornings.
i love having my life condensed to one side of a dorm room- it's cozy.
i love beautiful days.
i love my cloak.
i love writing good essays.
i love listening to music.
i love my new car.
i love trying to be a grown up, and sometimes it works.
i am thankful for everything god has given me.
and evyerthing my friends have given me.
and everything my family has given me.
and everything i have given myself.
i've got soul but i'm not a soldier,
gen
i love my little to-do list next to my closet.
i love making bacon egg and cheese sandwiches and watching cooking shows.
i love spending my own, hard-earned money.
i love my stuffed animals sitting on my books.
i love having a printer.
i love my fabric-covered tv.
i love having a place for everything.
i love washing my own dishes.
i love my beautiful room.
i love it when my roommate says things like:
"hey guys, it's 2006, why am i still having to walk places?"
i love new friends who are good for me.
i love having school supplies.
i love packing for home.
i love having a home.
i love making coffee in the mornings.
i love having my life condensed to one side of a dorm room- it's cozy.
i love beautiful days.
i love my cloak.
i love writing good essays.
i love listening to music.
i love my new car.
i love trying to be a grown up, and sometimes it works.
i am thankful for everything god has given me.
and evyerthing my friends have given me.
and everything my family has given me.
and everything i have given myself.
i've got soul but i'm not a soldier,
gen
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
i'm in love with the tip of your iceberg
and i wonder will i ever see the rest?
-- Micheal Leviton
check out this wonderous place
lessthanthree, ashes
-- Micheal Leviton
check out this wonderous place
lessthanthree, ashes
Thursday, November 02, 2006
the artist is the pheonix who burns to emerge
i'm drunk.
seems like aperfect time to post.
my exboyfriend made this blog for me. i'ma lso using his journal to write in nowadays. and i can't colalge over it, but i hate being reminded of what once was. what once was perfect, and how haunts my sleep. i'm sending poetry to boys at midnight and feeling numb. i'm being cryptic and writing songs. i'm being a bad, bad girl.
i'm wanting things that i should never, ever want. i'm wanting to be bad person.
better to reign in heaven than serve in hell.
i'm doubting things i have never doubted. i'm regretting things and i have no regrets. my hands feel warm and my head is fuzzy and full of cobwebs and soft, pliable rage. i feel wasted. in the drunk sense, but also int he sense that i've been all. used. up.
for some reason i just had a flashback to my middle school. i wonder where that came from.
my hands are so warm. maybe it's this keyboard. maybe it's this night.
it's getting cold outside. today it smelled like christmas. my life lately seems a string of dissapointments and misconceptions, wants and needs that never get met, friends that never get where i want to go, talks i never get to have, grades i can never make, leaderships i never take.
i'm starting to give up.
i thought i was starting to get jaded, but this is what's really starting. i'm starting not to feel. i'm training myself to feel nothing. i'm slowly widdling down my emotional state to three basic emotions: love, hate, and loss. do you really need anything else?
emotion has defined my life for so long, i'm hoping i can live without it. the truth is, it has bred nothing but spoiled relationships, rape cases, and suicide attempts. to be honsest, emotion has never done a damn good thing for me.
i am so drunk. my hands are so warm. today smelled like chriistmas.
i think i should change my name.
<3 ashes
no pheonix intended
seems like aperfect time to post.
my exboyfriend made this blog for me. i'ma lso using his journal to write in nowadays. and i can't colalge over it, but i hate being reminded of what once was. what once was perfect, and how haunts my sleep. i'm sending poetry to boys at midnight and feeling numb. i'm being cryptic and writing songs. i'm being a bad, bad girl.
i'm wanting things that i should never, ever want. i'm wanting to be bad person.
better to reign in heaven than serve in hell.
i'm doubting things i have never doubted. i'm regretting things and i have no regrets. my hands feel warm and my head is fuzzy and full of cobwebs and soft, pliable rage. i feel wasted. in the drunk sense, but also int he sense that i've been all. used. up.
for some reason i just had a flashback to my middle school. i wonder where that came from.
my hands are so warm. maybe it's this keyboard. maybe it's this night.
it's getting cold outside. today it smelled like christmas. my life lately seems a string of dissapointments and misconceptions, wants and needs that never get met, friends that never get where i want to go, talks i never get to have, grades i can never make, leaderships i never take.
i'm starting to give up.
i thought i was starting to get jaded, but this is what's really starting. i'm starting not to feel. i'm training myself to feel nothing. i'm slowly widdling down my emotional state to three basic emotions: love, hate, and loss. do you really need anything else?
emotion has defined my life for so long, i'm hoping i can live without it. the truth is, it has bred nothing but spoiled relationships, rape cases, and suicide attempts. to be honsest, emotion has never done a damn good thing for me.
i am so drunk. my hands are so warm. today smelled like chriistmas.
i think i should change my name.
<3 ashes
no pheonix intended
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
i miss you like my left arm that's been lost in a war
oh, beauty.
how you evade me so preposterously.
and how you find me so inconveniently.
<3gen
how you evade me so preposterously.
and how you find me so inconveniently.
<3gen
Monday, October 23, 2006
writer of fiction
i seem to have made a mess of things. but perhaps it's a good mess. or perhaps it's a fun mess. or maybe a wonderful beautiful mess. but that's only if i'm a really lucky girl. and i think we all know i am not a very lucky girl. i think this could turn out to be an ugly mess.
but my life is that of messes, fun or ugly, so it should not be anything new. the last time i started talking like this, about making messes and mistakes with boys and cars, i started smoking, cried for six days straight, and could barely work through the fog i walked through. but this time, there's no tears. there's no fog, and though there are a few cigarettes i don't pick them up in hopes they will somehow get me breathing again. this time, no big deal.
i'm finally taking my own advice.
maybe i'm not a hypocrite anymore.
this time, i can't help being myself. this time, i refuse to hate myself for something happening that i did not intend. this time i don't think it's the end of the world. this time i don't think everything is crashing down. this time i don't think this is the end of a friendship, which last time had me walking around like a tear-soaked zombie craving brains. this time i'll be me. and i'll listen to what i have told so many others and be myself, and the best of myself, and try to help pthers, and try to be better, but i can only try my best.
this feels strange.
it's a wonder what can be accomplished when you listen to yourself.
i skiped french today. i haven't started on my lab term paper.
i am queen procrastinator.
but i don't care.
i'm the happiest i've been in a long
long
long
time.
<3monroe
but my life is that of messes, fun or ugly, so it should not be anything new. the last time i started talking like this, about making messes and mistakes with boys and cars, i started smoking, cried for six days straight, and could barely work through the fog i walked through. but this time, there's no tears. there's no fog, and though there are a few cigarettes i don't pick them up in hopes they will somehow get me breathing again. this time, no big deal.
i'm finally taking my own advice.
maybe i'm not a hypocrite anymore.
this time, i can't help being myself. this time, i refuse to hate myself for something happening that i did not intend. this time i don't think it's the end of the world. this time i don't think everything is crashing down. this time i don't think this is the end of a friendship, which last time had me walking around like a tear-soaked zombie craving brains. this time i'll be me. and i'll listen to what i have told so many others and be myself, and the best of myself, and try to help pthers, and try to be better, but i can only try my best.
this feels strange.
it's a wonder what can be accomplished when you listen to yourself.
i skiped french today. i haven't started on my lab term paper.
i am queen procrastinator.
but i don't care.
i'm the happiest i've been in a long
long
long
time.
<3monroe
Monday, October 16, 2006
OH GOD
what goes up must, inevitably come down.
crashing down.
i did feel whole for a little while though, i really did.
<3gen
crashing down.
i did feel whole for a little while though, i really did.
<3gen
Sunday, August 20, 2006
let us rebuild this kingdom, and let us call it promise
my life is kind of amazing right now, in part to:
- lindsey jayne FUCKIN mullen being such a beautiful badass
- my new and most beautiful dorm room
- covering a couch all day yesterday
- floor-to-ceiling posters
- knowing that my room is so much better than anyone else's on the god damn planet
- ryan cooper and harrison
- rachel carter and her kitties
- the $1000 i saved this summer for whatever i want
- not wanting to go home
- painted ladders
- did i mention lindsey jayne?
so that's my life right now. in short- unadulturated happiness. my boyfriend gets here today, where i will spend at least 1.3 minutes rubbing the fact that my room is better than his in his face. then my new, lovely, desirable life will be complete.
at some point, i have to buy school supplies and text books, but i'm just so giddy it's distracting!
<3the gen
- lindsey jayne FUCKIN mullen being such a beautiful badass
- my new and most beautiful dorm room
- covering a couch all day yesterday
- floor-to-ceiling posters
- knowing that my room is so much better than anyone else's on the god damn planet
- ryan cooper and harrison
- rachel carter and her kitties
- the $1000 i saved this summer for whatever i want
- not wanting to go home
- painted ladders
- did i mention lindsey jayne?
so that's my life right now. in short- unadulturated happiness. my boyfriend gets here today, where i will spend at least 1.3 minutes rubbing the fact that my room is better than his in his face. then my new, lovely, desirable life will be complete.
at some point, i have to buy school supplies and text books, but i'm just so giddy it's distracting!
<3the gen
Thursday, July 13, 2006
acceptance
so much of the advice i have recieved as of late, from others and from myself, has been simple: accept it, and move on. there are bad parts of life, things get really hard sometimes, and when you find yourself crying in a foggy room, just accept that this is life, and take it and go on to the next day. i don't like that, i don't want to have to move on; that too, i must accept.
i have to accept that aaron will never get over his grudge and be my friend again. i have to accept that the friendships i hold dearest in the world are not what they used to be. i have to accept that things change [this is one that i have struggled with for the longest]. i have to accept that i must have a serious conversation with my boyfriend. i have to accept that there are secrets that i learned today that i can't share for fear of making the same mistake twice. i have to accept that someone just betrayed me just like i betrayed aaron, but i won't let it change how i feel about that person. i have to accept that that makes me think aaron overreacted. i have to accept that i am forgetful, shallow, clumsy, and a liar. and i have to accept that all of the artistic talent, glitter, witty jokes and good talks can not make up for that.
i hate it. i hate that there are so many things wrong and i just have to 'accept it and move on.' i don't like this kind of life. sometimes i think so much has happened in barely twenty years of life, and i'm expected to go on for another fifty or so? maybe we've extended the life span too much, why there is no great passion in this generation, no great american novel. there's just too many years, we take everything for granted. it's too intense, there's too much life. 70 plus years of 'accepting' that life is shitty most of the time? i'm not okay with it.
i've kept an online journal in some form or another for nearly 6 years now, and my hauntings are spread over nearly twenty different journals. some are just poetry, some stories, some emotional and angsty others witty and fake. but when i look back, the number of entries about 'accepting' something horrible and moving on with my life is astounding. so many entries filled with words of tears and giving up and growing up and all that jazz. things should not have to be this hard.
but they are.
and i have to accept it.
<3gen
just what is a good life anyway?
i have to accept that aaron will never get over his grudge and be my friend again. i have to accept that the friendships i hold dearest in the world are not what they used to be. i have to accept that things change [this is one that i have struggled with for the longest]. i have to accept that i must have a serious conversation with my boyfriend. i have to accept that there are secrets that i learned today that i can't share for fear of making the same mistake twice. i have to accept that someone just betrayed me just like i betrayed aaron, but i won't let it change how i feel about that person. i have to accept that that makes me think aaron overreacted. i have to accept that i am forgetful, shallow, clumsy, and a liar. and i have to accept that all of the artistic talent, glitter, witty jokes and good talks can not make up for that.
i hate it. i hate that there are so many things wrong and i just have to 'accept it and move on.' i don't like this kind of life. sometimes i think so much has happened in barely twenty years of life, and i'm expected to go on for another fifty or so? maybe we've extended the life span too much, why there is no great passion in this generation, no great american novel. there's just too many years, we take everything for granted. it's too intense, there's too much life. 70 plus years of 'accepting' that life is shitty most of the time? i'm not okay with it.
i've kept an online journal in some form or another for nearly 6 years now, and my hauntings are spread over nearly twenty different journals. some are just poetry, some stories, some emotional and angsty others witty and fake. but when i look back, the number of entries about 'accepting' something horrible and moving on with my life is astounding. so many entries filled with words of tears and giving up and growing up and all that jazz. things should not have to be this hard.
but they are.
and i have to accept it.
<3gen
just what is a good life anyway?
Monday, June 26, 2006
i know, i know. it's been such a long, sad time since i updated. i thought that being home for the summer [and by home, i mean not at all] would leave plenty of time for blog updates and photos and daily journalings of my oh-so-interesting life. but the truth is, work is one thing i didn't expect-time consuming.
i really enjoy my job, and i'm damn good at it. except when people want me to suggest a good present for someone turning a year old, and i usually want to say 'they're a year old, just dangle a red sock in front of them and they'll think you're a god.' but yet, they want flashy lights and music that the poor kid will be terrified of or grow out of in a year and then they'll be back wanting something even flashier and even more light-up-y than before. but usually i enjoy a good day at work, and it's busy enough to be fun, and my coworker elaine is the most fun thing in the world. but man, 9 hours a day, it takes effort. and once i get home, the soft, once-inviting glow of the laptop just doesn't seem to beckon me the way it used to.
plus, when i'm not working, i'm with my friends, who are really the only ones who care to read my little journal anyway, so they get what's going on. but i've got a couple readers on here who i don't see that often, so i suppose i owe them a good shout once in a while. lately, in the friends category, things have been...well... bizarre to say the least. lots of talking, lots of secrets, lots of late nights. but it's good, and we're growing up, or grown-ups, or something and we're being good people and that's what's important. i'm making new friends out of old friends and discovering commonalities with people i never thought i had. even if that commonality is a sad one, it is a commonality none the less.
and hey, here's a paragraph that isn't on my xanga or my livejournal, because no one here at home reads this journal. i've been spending tons of time, including much late-night-talking time, with aaron. it seems i've finally found a way to be his friend, and to help him. sometimes i have to resist the urge to fall in love with him all over again, because that would be so easy, but i won't. because that's not my life anymore, and i'm not that girl anymore.
all in all, i think i'm doing pretty well. i know this wasn't exactly funny or cute, or really all that informative. but soon i'll post pictures from work, detailed schedules of my daily life, and fun stories about little girls in tutus or maui jim sunglasses. i love you all. 10-4.
<3gen
i really enjoy my job, and i'm damn good at it. except when people want me to suggest a good present for someone turning a year old, and i usually want to say 'they're a year old, just dangle a red sock in front of them and they'll think you're a god.' but yet, they want flashy lights and music that the poor kid will be terrified of or grow out of in a year and then they'll be back wanting something even flashier and even more light-up-y than before. but usually i enjoy a good day at work, and it's busy enough to be fun, and my coworker elaine is the most fun thing in the world. but man, 9 hours a day, it takes effort. and once i get home, the soft, once-inviting glow of the laptop just doesn't seem to beckon me the way it used to.
plus, when i'm not working, i'm with my friends, who are really the only ones who care to read my little journal anyway, so they get what's going on. but i've got a couple readers on here who i don't see that often, so i suppose i owe them a good shout once in a while. lately, in the friends category, things have been...well... bizarre to say the least. lots of talking, lots of secrets, lots of late nights. but it's good, and we're growing up, or grown-ups, or something and we're being good people and that's what's important. i'm making new friends out of old friends and discovering commonalities with people i never thought i had. even if that commonality is a sad one, it is a commonality none the less.
and hey, here's a paragraph that isn't on my xanga or my livejournal, because no one here at home reads this journal. i've been spending tons of time, including much late-night-talking time, with aaron. it seems i've finally found a way to be his friend, and to help him. sometimes i have to resist the urge to fall in love with him all over again, because that would be so easy, but i won't. because that's not my life anymore, and i'm not that girl anymore.
all in all, i think i'm doing pretty well. i know this wasn't exactly funny or cute, or really all that informative. but soon i'll post pictures from work, detailed schedules of my daily life, and fun stories about little girls in tutus or maui jim sunglasses. i love you all. 10-4.
<3gen
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
ashville, motherfuckers
sweet. so now i can do a real update, after hashing through the bullshit on my xanga.
i really do love ashville, it's a great place. full of hippies and cool shops and clothes. not to mention the prices are great, there are practically no people dressed like they walked out of a tiger beat, and there is something cool around every corner. this place is all about being mellow and happy and artistic. local artists, microbreweries, coffee shops with $1 cappucino. also, i MAY or may not have bought a beret.
but anyway. basically the only drawback is my father. only a week living with the rutsky's and i'd forgotten how god damn annoying that man is. he's constantly saying "this town's weird isn't it?" and i mean constantly, i am not exaggerating. i mean it's seriously every few minutes, if not seconds. whenever something goes wrong at all, he blames my mother for not saying something, when really it was just him being an absolute idiot. i mean he is seriously one of the dumbest people i've ever encountered. jesus christ. i can't take it.
not to mention i can't shake the feeling that aaron is mad at me for god knows what reason. he shouldn't treat me like one of his clingy girls from colorado, he doesn't have to avoid me completely. i hate it. i wish it wasn't my fault all the time.
i can't wait to build lindsey's prezzie. it's exciting. i'm missing my college friends alot, especially andrew and lindsey. not to mention the fun kids i got close with at the end of the year, ryan cooper and harrison and laine and mary elizabeth and her boyfriend. i'm really excited about this summer seeing my friends, but part of me can't wait till next semester. living with lindsey, our bad ass room, my classes, more jokes and WOW and parties.
today was a beautiful day.
i look fucking bad ass in this hat.
i really do love ashville, it's a great place. full of hippies and cool shops and clothes. not to mention the prices are great, there are practically no people dressed like they walked out of a tiger beat, and there is something cool around every corner. this place is all about being mellow and happy and artistic. local artists, microbreweries, coffee shops with $1 cappucino. also, i MAY or may not have bought a beret.
but anyway. basically the only drawback is my father. only a week living with the rutsky's and i'd forgotten how god damn annoying that man is. he's constantly saying "this town's weird isn't it?" and i mean constantly, i am not exaggerating. i mean it's seriously every few minutes, if not seconds. whenever something goes wrong at all, he blames my mother for not saying something, when really it was just him being an absolute idiot. i mean he is seriously one of the dumbest people i've ever encountered. jesus christ. i can't take it.
not to mention i can't shake the feeling that aaron is mad at me for god knows what reason. he shouldn't treat me like one of his clingy girls from colorado, he doesn't have to avoid me completely. i hate it. i wish it wasn't my fault all the time.
i can't wait to build lindsey's prezzie. it's exciting. i'm missing my college friends alot, especially andrew and lindsey. not to mention the fun kids i got close with at the end of the year, ryan cooper and harrison and laine and mary elizabeth and her boyfriend. i'm really excited about this summer seeing my friends, but part of me can't wait till next semester. living with lindsey, our bad ass room, my classes, more jokes and WOW and parties.
today was a beautiful day.
i look fucking bad ass in this hat.
Monday, May 15, 2006
library madness
now that i finally have the chance to rekindle my love for reading, the following books have been checked out to grace my life for the nest 3 months:
flowers for algernon- daniel keyes
the catcher in the rye- j.d. salinger
beyond genetics- glenn mcgee
an american childhood- annie dillard
weetzie bat- francesca lia block
why some like it hot: food, genes, and cultural diversity- gary paul nabham
travels with charlie- john steinbeck
one flew over the cuckoo's nest- ken kesey
whose view of life? embryos, cloning, and stem cells- jane maienschien
a heartbreaking work of staggering genius- dave eggers
genome- matt ridley
it has been a busy as hell two days. yesterday i unpacked both cars, packed one with lindsey's stuff and the other with mine for the rutsky's, cleaned the kitchen, went out for mother's day, did two loads of laundry and returned it all nicely folded, and cleaned up my stuff downstairs. today i got up early, went to my job interview, accepted a full tiem job working in toys at smith's variety store in mountainbrook, moved all of my things into the rutsky's, and came to the library to check out the very books i have listed before you.
i feel like a grown up. it's strange.
but i have a brand new my little pony lunchbox for work, so i think i'm ok.
<3gen
flowers for algernon- daniel keyes
the catcher in the rye- j.d. salinger
beyond genetics- glenn mcgee
an american childhood- annie dillard
weetzie bat- francesca lia block
why some like it hot: food, genes, and cultural diversity- gary paul nabham
travels with charlie- john steinbeck
one flew over the cuckoo's nest- ken kesey
whose view of life? embryos, cloning, and stem cells- jane maienschien
a heartbreaking work of staggering genius- dave eggers
genome- matt ridley
it has been a busy as hell two days. yesterday i unpacked both cars, packed one with lindsey's stuff and the other with mine for the rutsky's, cleaned the kitchen, went out for mother's day, did two loads of laundry and returned it all nicely folded, and cleaned up my stuff downstairs. today i got up early, went to my job interview, accepted a full tiem job working in toys at smith's variety store in mountainbrook, moved all of my things into the rutsky's, and came to the library to check out the very books i have listed before you.
i feel like a grown up. it's strange.
but i have a brand new my little pony lunchbox for work, so i think i'm ok.
<3gen
Sunday, May 14, 2006
tomorrow
it's a strange feeling. i have plans, i have things to do that i planned and that technically, i don't have to do it. i have a job interview tomorrow at 10am, and then i'm moving into the rutsky's house until the afternoon. i have some shopping planned and some phone calls to make.
but they're plans that i made, they are things that i did on my own and arrangements that i took care of and that i decided on and now i carry them out and finish. and i'm doing it by myself, on my own time. i'm going to make my own breakfast. i'm going to pack my own room. i feel like a grown up.
i watched the series finale of west wing with my parents. it's still one of my favorite shows, and this one was the president's terms ending and the new president taking over. the old staff was leaving, boxes and furniture moving out, new plans made. and as the president was on the plane headed home, his wife asked him what he was thinking about, and he answered "tomorrow."
and that's what i feel like. i feel like for once in my life, i can do things that i decide to do for myself. i don't have homework, i don't have to worry about next semester. i have a job i got myself, money i earned, a cell phone i haven't lost yet. i can read a book if i want to. i can paint. i can rearrange a bookshelf. just if i feel like it.
this is new and exciting.
ice cream exciting.
<3gen
p.s. i miss my friends. i miss them so much. i get to see my birmingham friends this summer, then back to tuscaloosa for late night WOW talk from andrew, sex jokes, lindsey face, snuggling, drunken nights, mess, fans, angel music and paty. i can't wait for everything in the world. just. can't. wait.
but they're plans that i made, they are things that i did on my own and arrangements that i took care of and that i decided on and now i carry them out and finish. and i'm doing it by myself, on my own time. i'm going to make my own breakfast. i'm going to pack my own room. i feel like a grown up.
i watched the series finale of west wing with my parents. it's still one of my favorite shows, and this one was the president's terms ending and the new president taking over. the old staff was leaving, boxes and furniture moving out, new plans made. and as the president was on the plane headed home, his wife asked him what he was thinking about, and he answered "tomorrow."
and that's what i feel like. i feel like for once in my life, i can do things that i decide to do for myself. i don't have homework, i don't have to worry about next semester. i have a job i got myself, money i earned, a cell phone i haven't lost yet. i can read a book if i want to. i can paint. i can rearrange a bookshelf. just if i feel like it.
this is new and exciting.
ice cream exciting.
<3gen
p.s. i miss my friends. i miss them so much. i get to see my birmingham friends this summer, then back to tuscaloosa for late night WOW talk from andrew, sex jokes, lindsey face, snuggling, drunken nights, mess, fans, angel music and paty. i can't wait for everything in the world. just. can't. wait.
Monday, April 17, 2006
oh shit.. i did it
1. Reply with your name and I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie/book/fictional character reminds me of you.
3. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me. Or at least me.
4. I'll tell you my favorite memory of you.
5. I'll tell you what animal or plant you remind me of.
6. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
7. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal.
<3gen
2. I'll tell you what song/movie/book/fictional character reminds me of you.
3. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me. Or at least me.
4. I'll tell you my favorite memory of you.
5. I'll tell you what animal or plant you remind me of.
6. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
7. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal.
<3gen
Sunday, April 16, 2006
good to be home
so i've been home this weekend for easter, and for once, it seems like things are falling into place. my life, it seems, for a few moments, is being planned and pieced together and may actually work out. i worry with predicting that things will work out the way i want them, which rarely happens in my life, but perhaps this time.....
this weekend i felt infinitely better than i have in such a long time. james came home, and for a while yesterday, i laid in the back of his convertible and looked up at the big blue sky while driving to ryan's house and listening to mpr. and that night at dinner joe showed a slideshow about caitlin, something we all hadn't thought about in a long time. and i got to see cindy and gretchen and karen, and snoopy walked around on the floor, and scruggs came over and we all went and got donuts, and we sat on james's floor and looked at pictures and ate donuts. for just a few minutes, it was like old times.
and today we had easter. and we ate chocolate and made food together as a family and then sat at the table and said grace and ate. and my dad didn't make any comments about the food, and he was nice, and didn't say a mean thing about anybody. and he listened to our stories, and he told him own, and he didn't interrupt or say NO to everything we said. and my mom laughed and my sister didn't answer her cell phone. and we had an ice easter dinner and nothing went wrong. we didn't have to tell my dad to turn off the tv, no one got yelled at, the food was delicious, and the day was beautiful. it was probably one of the only great family dinners we've ever had.
and now i'm washing clothes and writing a paper and listening to mark isham [crash soundtrack]. and i feel okay. yeah, i'm not gonna pull higher than a C in french. yeah, i have a paper due tomorrow and a creative writing assignment. yeah, the new teacher for my blount class really sucks. yeah, it's getting tiresome living so close with so many people for so long. and yeah, i am SO ready for all my friends to be back home and in james's room and laughing like we never graduated high school and we never left home. but you know what? summer's pretty close, my parents aren't fighting, and i think i can hold myself over until we can all be together again this summer.
i know it's trite, but i think the best metaphor for life is in fact a roller coaster. i think everyone uses that parallel because it's true, and it works, and it really feels like that sometimes. i will leave you with song lyrics- go download the song if you like it.
"better son/daughter" by rilo kiley
~and sometimes when you're on
you're really fukin' on
and your friends they sing along
and they love you.
but the lows are so extreme
that the good seems fuckin' cheap
and it teases you for weeks in its absence.
but you'll fight and you'll make it through
you'll fake it
if you have to
and you'll show up for work with a smile.
and you'll better
and you'll be smarter
and more grown up
and a better daughter
or son or a real good friend.
and you'll be awake
you'll be alert
you'll be positive though it hurts
you'll be happy and you'll be
beautiful.
you'll be happy.~
<3gen
this weekend i felt infinitely better than i have in such a long time. james came home, and for a while yesterday, i laid in the back of his convertible and looked up at the big blue sky while driving to ryan's house and listening to mpr. and that night at dinner joe showed a slideshow about caitlin, something we all hadn't thought about in a long time. and i got to see cindy and gretchen and karen, and snoopy walked around on the floor, and scruggs came over and we all went and got donuts, and we sat on james's floor and looked at pictures and ate donuts. for just a few minutes, it was like old times.
and today we had easter. and we ate chocolate and made food together as a family and then sat at the table and said grace and ate. and my dad didn't make any comments about the food, and he was nice, and didn't say a mean thing about anybody. and he listened to our stories, and he told him own, and he didn't interrupt or say NO to everything we said. and my mom laughed and my sister didn't answer her cell phone. and we had an ice easter dinner and nothing went wrong. we didn't have to tell my dad to turn off the tv, no one got yelled at, the food was delicious, and the day was beautiful. it was probably one of the only great family dinners we've ever had.
and now i'm washing clothes and writing a paper and listening to mark isham [crash soundtrack]. and i feel okay. yeah, i'm not gonna pull higher than a C in french. yeah, i have a paper due tomorrow and a creative writing assignment. yeah, the new teacher for my blount class really sucks. yeah, it's getting tiresome living so close with so many people for so long. and yeah, i am SO ready for all my friends to be back home and in james's room and laughing like we never graduated high school and we never left home. but you know what? summer's pretty close, my parents aren't fighting, and i think i can hold myself over until we can all be together again this summer.
i know it's trite, but i think the best metaphor for life is in fact a roller coaster. i think everyone uses that parallel because it's true, and it works, and it really feels like that sometimes. i will leave you with song lyrics- go download the song if you like it.
"better son/daughter" by rilo kiley
~and sometimes when you're on
you're really fukin' on
and your friends they sing along
and they love you.
but the lows are so extreme
that the good seems fuckin' cheap
and it teases you for weeks in its absence.
but you'll fight and you'll make it through
you'll fake it
if you have to
and you'll show up for work with a smile.
and you'll better
and you'll be smarter
and more grown up
and a better daughter
or son or a real good friend.
and you'll be awake
you'll be alert
you'll be positive though it hurts
you'll be happy and you'll be
beautiful.
you'll be happy.~
<3gen
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
quotables
"And I thought, there was no God, there was only what you wanted"
--White Oleander, by Janet Fitch
--White Oleander, by Janet Fitch
Thursday, April 06, 2006
I'm Writing A Letter
Dear God,
oooooHi, it's Genevieve. I know we haven't written in a while, but in your last letter you menioned a few natural disasters you were going to be proccupied with, so i let you off for a little while. But it has come to my attention that you have, yet again, made an aggregious error in your Life and Death department. I'm sorry to sound so formal, I know you and I are old friends and we've been writing these letters for some time, but I feel it necessary to give this matter the respect it deserves.
ooooo I really liked Ute Winston. She was probably my favorite teacher since Rutsky, and most likely one of the best I've ever had. She was a wonderful person, and always made us laugh, not to mention a self-declared and student-supported bad ass. We joked about her, we trusted her with our essays. She understood things like specificity, creativity, details and open-ended quesitons. She always smiled, put people in their place, taught great history and always managed to make everyone speak. She was a great teacher, and I wanted her to be my gramma. She was our own little German grandmother and we loved her- masturbation jokes and all.
ooooo I don't understand your reasoning in allowing her to die. I understand that she was old, but I thought I took priority here? I thought that when it came to me, you promised you wouldn't take any more people I liked before I said I was okay with it? We had this discussion God, we talked about it, and I want you to know that this is not fucking cool. This is not okay with me and fuck formality but this is really taking it too far. This whole high-and-mighty routine is getting old, especially when you just arbitrarily decide that you are going to take friends, principals, and good teachers away from this world. You said you would check with me! You said you would call! But no, the letters stopped, your number got disconnected, and now you let Ute Winston die? And you gave us another teacher whose nickname is "Douchebag Dokee?" You can't replace her! And you can't make half of my dorm cry, including me and all my close friends, and make me recieve the news while the tornado siren is going off and the whole world explodes.
ooooo I don't give a damn about natural disasters! Fuck hunger and poverty and earthquakes and adoption and car bombs and a war and gas prices and corruption! I take priority! You can't ignore me forever! You can't take anyone else! You promised you wouldn't do it again, and you went and did it anyway.
ooooo I'm sorry to break from formality, but please try to write back as soon as possible. It's been nearly a year since we talked, and I keep writing. I've enclosed a few stamps this time, in case you've run out of stamps. And some extra paper and an envelope or two. I also dropped in a pencil and a pen, just in case you don't have one. I put my dorm phone number, and Ryan's cell if you want to call. But I'm here most of the time, so just please write back. Or something. I just want you to answer.
ooooo Maybe you ran out of stamps.
Sincerely Yours,
Genevieve
Monday, March 27, 2006
lindsey mullen is
inspired by lyrics of nickel creek's 'when you come back down':
~My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn
~My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn
And I won't feel your fire
I'll be the other hand that always holds the line
Connectin' in between your sweet heart and mine
I'm strung out on that wire
And I'll be on the other end,
To hear you when you call Angel,
you were born to fly,
Your memory's the sunshine every new day brings
I know the sky is calling Angel,
let me help you with your wings ~
'jayne'
lindsey mullen is bright lights. she is exciting and her eyes squint when she smiles and it makes me giggle. she is happy even when 
she's sad. she is incomprehensibly beautiful. she has tiny lighted eyes and big rosy cheeks and a smile you can see from the moon. she has curly hair and lovely skin and nice hands and cute feet. she has a lovely face. she's not just effective- she's affected. and that's something that people these says just plain aren't. she loves people intensely and without reason. she loves people more than they love her and that has been and always will be her curse. she is a good girl. she is good despite everything that has ever happened or things that are happening or things that are going to happen. she knows how to lie. she is good at it. she understands that is scary but she is in complete control of her vices. she controls things she doesn't know she controls. lindsey mullen is alright. she is the smell after it rains. she is kittens. she loves her cats and loves her friends who treat her poorly. sometimes she thinks she desernes it. she never ever does. she knows what to do to make you feel like the whole wide world. she is one hundred dollars. she is atypical. she is abnormal. she is alien. she is wonderful. lindsey mullen is good chocolate and stuffed bunnies and happy children. she is playing in the rain. she is clinging to her past for all the right reasons. she is understanding. she is passionate. she has passion in her and outside her. it leaks from her like tears. she cries. she gets angry. lindsey mullen glows in the dark. she is a postcard with a hundred secrets and she is sweet smelling hair and she is flowy skirts and she is infection laughter. she is eloquent. she is a genius. she is a child in a big girls' body. she has a great rack. lindsey is sweet. her voice is high and she sings like she fucking means it. she loves good music. she can make fabulous mix cds. lindsey is glitterfantastic. she is bats. she is puppies. she is late night. she is orange and pink and green and purple. she is unorganized. she is uberorganized. she knows when it matters. she knows when it doesn't- but really it does. she knows when it doesn't- and it really doesn't. she does her best. she takes care of others before herself. she forgets to take her iron. she knows when things are cute and fun. she knows how to have fun. she makes everything fun. lindsey mullen is infinitely beautiful when she's drunk. lindsey is emotion and that's perfect. she feels things like i do and that is why i feel part of me in her. she knows it is okay to feel. she is a wonderful writer. she is brave. she is strong. she doesn't think any of these things are true. she doesn't see in her what we all see. she probably never will. she is waiting for prince charming. prince charming is searching for her. she makes mistakes. she fucks up. she hates herself. just like everyone else. but she's nothing like everyone else. lindsey is free from the chains that the earth can spring up and wrap around her. lindsey can laugh through pain. lindsey knows more than you. she knows more than me. she is bright and love and flowers and pretty stones and fire and static electricity and good books and little girls and speeches and oranges and dishes and poems and walls and messages in bottles. she is coloring books and buttons and charm bracelets and toys and bubbles and voices and education and art museums and high schools. lindsey mullen is parking spots and light bulbs and caterpillars and rain-soaked grass and sunshine and pretty days and rainstorms and lightning and glowworms and cute children and warm blankets and sharpie markers and moral forum and fake pearls and real pearls. lindsey jayne mullen is my heart and my best friend. she is bright lights.
<3gen>
she's sad. she is incomprehensibly beautiful. she has tiny lighted eyes and big rosy cheeks and a smile you can see from the moon. she has curly hair and lovely skin and nice hands and cute feet. she has a lovely face. she's not just effective- she's affected. and that's something that people these says just plain aren't. she loves people intensely and without reason. she loves people more than they love her and that has been and always will be her curse. she is a good girl. she is good despite everything that has ever happened or things that are happening or things that are going to happen. she knows how to lie. she is good at it. she understands that is scary but she is in complete control of her vices. she controls things she doesn't know she controls. lindsey mullen is alright. she is the smell after it rains. she is kittens. she loves her cats and loves her friends who treat her poorly. sometimes she thinks she desernes it. she never ever does. she knows what to do to make you feel like the whole wide world. she is one hundred dollars. she is atypical. she is abnormal. she is alien. she is wonderful. lindsey mullen is good chocolate and stuffed bunnies and happy children. she is playing in the rain. she is clinging to her past for all the right reasons. she is understanding. she is passionate. she has passion in her and outside her. it leaks from her like tears. she cries. she gets angry. lindsey mullen glows in the dark. she is a postcard with a hundred secrets and she is sweet smelling hair and she is flowy skirts and she is infection laughter. she is eloquent. she is a genius. she is a child in a big girls' body. she has a great rack. lindsey is sweet. her voice is high and she sings like she fucking means it. she loves good music. she can make fabulous mix cds. lindsey is glitterfantastic. she is bats. she is puppies. she is late night. she is orange and pink and green and purple. she is unorganized. she is uberorganized. she knows when it matters. she knows when it doesn't- but really it does. she knows when it doesn't- and it really doesn't. she does her best. she takes care of others before herself. she forgets to take her iron. she knows when things are cute and fun. she knows how to have fun. she makes everything fun. lindsey mullen is infinitely beautiful when she's drunk. lindsey is emotion and that's perfect. she feels things like i do and that is why i feel part of me in her. she knows it is okay to feel. she is a wonderful writer. she is brave. she is strong. she doesn't think any of these things are true. she doesn't see in her what we all see. she probably never will. she is waiting for prince charming. prince charming is searching for her. she makes mistakes. she fucks up. she hates herself. just like everyone else. but she's nothing like everyone else. lindsey is free from the chains that the earth can spring up and wrap around her. lindsey can laugh through pain. lindsey knows more than you. she knows more than me. she is bright and love and flowers and pretty stones and fire and static electricity and good books and little girls and speeches and oranges and dishes and poems and walls and messages in bottles. she is coloring books and buttons and charm bracelets and toys and bubbles and voices and education and art museums and high schools. lindsey mullen is parking spots and light bulbs and caterpillars and rain-soaked grass and sunshine and pretty days and rainstorms and lightning and glowworms and cute children and warm blankets and sharpie markers and moral forum and fake pearls and real pearls. lindsey jayne mullen is my heart and my best friend. she is bright lights.<3gen>
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
6 weird things
so lindsey has instructed me to list 6 strange things about myself. this is difficult not in thinking of these six things, but rather narrowing the list down to six. we'll just go with the weirdest i can come up with right now.
1. sometimes late at night, i pour milk in a bowl and drink it like soup. but if you walked in on me doing it, i would just say i just finished eating cereal.
2. i rehearse speeches i will one day give to people, or hope to give to people, in my kitchen or in the bathroom. the one i practice most often is if ie ver win any big award on television, and preach to all the celebrities about how they are frivilous and wasteful and should spend theirmoney on aids research and not diamond-encrusted shoes and personal stylists.
3. i am convinced beyond all doubt that RENT is and will always remain the most underrated movie ever created.
4. it really annoys me when people wake up startled, or are generally skittish when they are asleep or close to asleep.
5. i have virtually no care or thoughts about personal hygeine. i can barly spell the word.
6. i have a secret dream to become a famous singer- i secretly love to sing in front of people, i'm just always afraid to because it's never appropriate and i don't want to look like i'm showing off.
some other weird things might be that i hate most of modern technology, i enjoy working on very tiny things in detal [e.g painting tile grout], and i have a tendency to develop crushes on my teachers. oh, and i'm kinky as hell. but that's not really weird is it?
my next post will be a surprise for my best friend.
hooray.
<3gen
1. sometimes late at night, i pour milk in a bowl and drink it like soup. but if you walked in on me doing it, i would just say i just finished eating cereal.
2. i rehearse speeches i will one day give to people, or hope to give to people, in my kitchen or in the bathroom. the one i practice most often is if ie ver win any big award on television, and preach to all the celebrities about how they are frivilous and wasteful and should spend theirmoney on aids research and not diamond-encrusted shoes and personal stylists.
3. i am convinced beyond all doubt that RENT is and will always remain the most underrated movie ever created.
4. it really annoys me when people wake up startled, or are generally skittish when they are asleep or close to asleep.
5. i have virtually no care or thoughts about personal hygeine. i can barly spell the word.
6. i have a secret dream to become a famous singer- i secretly love to sing in front of people, i'm just always afraid to because it's never appropriate and i don't want to look like i'm showing off.
some other weird things might be that i hate most of modern technology, i enjoy working on very tiny things in detal [e.g painting tile grout], and i have a tendency to develop crushes on my teachers. oh, and i'm kinky as hell. but that's not really weird is it?
my next post will be a surprise for my best friend.
hooray.
<3gen
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
je veux le mort
the question that i find myself asking is, why do i bother? i probably tried harder studying for this french test than any test i've taken in a very long time. two days straight of nothing but writing over and over again, memorizing conjugation, re-hydrating sentences, quizzing myself on vocabulary, working on composition. i got a tutor, i made notecards, and even bought a brand new notebook specifically to write french over and over and over 
and over again until my french eyes bleed french blood all over my french book.
and yet? a 73. and ryan? he studied two hours the night before, and worried over the weekend about doing badly. i felt confident, i worked hard, this was gonna be my first A on a french test this semester. and yet, it seems that ten times the work only amounts to a few points on a test. so i ask myself, why even bother trying uber-hard if it doesn't do any good?
give me a poem to analyze and i could put you to shame- i dissect poetry in my sleep, it's second nature by now. read a novel and find every miniscule metaphor in ever gesture and every beautiful manipulation and intention? it's what i'm best at, and i can promise i'm better at it than you. because it's the ONE SINGLE THING that i fucking rock at.
i can draw fairly well, sing fairly well, cook fairly well. i'm a nice person, generous, thoughtful, and the most assertive person i know. i do what i can and i think i'm pretty alright.
but smart? not a word i would use. it's all about retaining knowlege- and i just can't do it. memorization kills me. i lose my keys, cell phones, money, cards, books, anything able to be lost, really. and i get teased mercilessly for it. i can't remember ANYTHING about french, i can't have a big vocabulary because i can't ever remember what the words all mean, and i can't keep track of money to save my life.
i know i'm being self deprecating and you guys all think that it's not a big deal if i lose my keys or can't remember french conjugations. but for me? it's a huge deal. only because it's something that i have to deal with every single day, and no matter what i do, it never gets any better.
so again, i ask myself, why bother at all?
<3gen
and over again until my french eyes bleed french blood all over my french book.and yet? a 73. and ryan? he studied two hours the night before, and worried over the weekend about doing badly. i felt confident, i worked hard, this was gonna be my first A on a french test this semester. and yet, it seems that ten times the work only amounts to a few points on a test. so i ask myself, why even bother trying uber-hard if it doesn't do any good?
give me a poem to analyze and i could put you to shame- i dissect poetry in my sleep, it's second nature by now. read a novel and find every miniscule metaphor in ever gesture and every beautiful manipulation and intention? it's what i'm best at, and i can promise i'm better at it than you. because it's the ONE SINGLE THING that i fucking rock at.
i can draw fairly well, sing fairly well, cook fairly well. i'm a nice person, generous, thoughtful, and the most assertive person i know. i do what i can and i think i'm pretty alright.
but smart? not a word i would use. it's all about retaining knowlege- and i just can't do it. memorization kills me. i lose my keys, cell phones, money, cards, books, anything able to be lost, really. and i get teased mercilessly for it. i can't remember ANYTHING about french, i can't have a big vocabulary because i can't ever remember what the words all mean, and i can't keep track of money to save my life.
i know i'm being self deprecating and you guys all think that it's not a big deal if i lose my keys or can't remember french conjugations. but for me? it's a huge deal. only because it's something that i have to deal with every single day, and no matter what i do, it never gets any better.
so again, i ask myself, why bother at all?
<3gen
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
seasons of...
a few christmases ago, my mother gave me this book. mostly because i blatantly pointed out that i wanted it, but my mother is such a person that she most likely would have figured out that i wanted it without my instruction [e.g. she bought me my oprah dvd before i even knew it existed, and who knows i like oprah that much?]
i have discovered recently that i must read this book at least once a year, because it seems that the knowlege it procures so beautifully and willingly i forget just as well after a year or a little less has gone by. the most effective part of this book, which indicates that part that i hsould start reading most often, is a certain section that has to do with the seasons of life. that we all, in a sense, so through 4 seasons in our lives as does the weather of a year.
there is spring, where everything is new and beautiful and exciting and blooming, the sun is shining and the clouds move slowly. there is summer, where things are warm and familiar and things are in full bloom and colorful. there is an autumn, where things begin to wither and change, it gets a little colder and cloudier. and there is inevitably a winter, where things are dead and dying, cold and frail, and the days are mostly cloudy and wet.
for some people, this actually follows the seasons [sometimes i think i'm like that, other times, when alabama doesn't have winter, i have trouble deducing it] and for others, their winter is in spring and their summer is in autumn. what matters is that these things are natural, and inevitable. what i have to realize, and perhaps others who udnerstand my dilemma, is that the seasons of my life do not make me a bad person, and it isn't abnormal to go through a few months that suck like a 2 dollar whore. no one gets angry at mother nature for getting cold, i don't assume it's because the world has done something wrong, or that it is somehow at fault for killing its own flowers. i should listen to that part of me, and understand that i can't hate myself for being sad and troubled for a while, and that it's completely natural and involuntary that things get rocky and difficult sometimes. it's so easy to forget this, because the last time i had trouble was three seasons ago, and by now i've forgotten what it was like to hurt like this. but the last winter helped me prepare for this one, just like all the winters before it prepared for the ones following, and i can get ready for spring.
and in spring, things will be beautiful and wonderful and new again. the truth is, the same things that are going to be beautiful and amazing and exciting this spring are the same things that were new and exciting every spring, but this time, i've changed a little, and it's been three seasons since my last spring too, so i've forgotten what it looks like to see a flower bloom. we cycle through the same seasons, it just gets more intense, and better prepared for, each time.
i think after enough phone calls, talks to sini, and trips home, i'm going to be headed back into spring-mode fairly soon. i have some relationship issues to work out, some old skeletons to get out of the closet, and a few vices that i shouldn't indulge nearly as often. and when that's over, i'll go back to liking myself, and understanding myself, and maybe this time i'll remember all of this when winter comes again.
maybe that's all growing up really is. remembering spring in winter and remembering winter in spring.
<3gen>
Sunday, February 26, 2006
a message for you
watch RENT. i don't care if you hate musicals, or you think it's too dramatic, or if your name is aaron bailey. watch it for the amazing acting, watch for the little idiosyncracies of each actor. watch it for the incredible story behind it, and the way it defined an entire generation an emotional movement. watch it for the person who wrote it, who died the morning of its opening and had an incredible life. watch it for the cast who really lived together, and who are amazing people.
overlook what you might think is a melodramatic ending, or lyrics you don't understand, or character flaws you don't think are realistic. look at it in a real way, in the way that you want to affect the audience, the feelings you want people to leave with. think of it in terms of the story, and the meaning of the entire group of people, and what each line and each lyric means. what it for the amazing final number where all the songs fit together perfectly.
more than anything- watch it for yourself. watch it for the times you've sat and thought "i wish things were like they were a year ago." i know that ryan and i have been thinking and praying that very often right now. i don't know if my other friends from back home are thinking the same thing, i don't know if they ever miss what we had or are worried that they're losing it like i am afraid of every day, but this movie helps me udnerstand life so much more. and don't demean it or me if you don't understand it or refuse to see it.
sit down with me to watch it and let's talk- i'll make you love it. i know these people, we are these people. and i don't know if sini or aaron or scruggs or james understands what this makes me feel, but it allows me to trust that we will never stop being friends. it lets me stop being afraid that i'm going to lose everything. it brings me back home, back to planet earth. i trust in the world, i understand that things change and sometimes things really fucking suck and sometimes it feels like my whole world is colapsing in on me and this is the end isn't it? but it isn't, and i believe in myself and my friends that things like this aren't going to end.
after watching the entire thing over ten times, the director/actor commentary, all the deleted scenes, the full-length documentary, all the interviews and illegal videos of the stage performances i can get my grubby little hands on, it only amazes me more. you think it's just some shallow musical you can look over, but if you can't look deeper into it than that than it's your own fault for thinking it shallow because you won't consider that a movie of its calibre can carry something greater within it. i challenge you to really watch it, to really consider the acting and the tiniest detail. i challenge you to appreciate the musical talent that had to go into it and the real point of the ending- no matter if you like it or not, think about the message they're trying to get across.
these things are real. you might think it's over the top, but it isn't.
i have fallen in love with everything RENT.
i hope that my friends understand how much i miss them, and how on the days where i feel closest to giving up, the memories of our last year together keeps me going. please, never forget any of that, and get back in touch, and stay that way, and don't ever, ever let me or any of us lose you. we are each other and we are one heart and we can not let space separate that. i love you all so very much, and this movie solidifies that love, and squelches my fear of losing you all, and brings me back to a place that i love every time i watch it.
good night.
good morning.
good life.
overlook what you might think is a melodramatic ending, or lyrics you don't understand, or character flaws you don't think are realistic. look at it in a real way, in the way that you want to affect the audience, the feelings you want people to leave with. think of it in terms of the story, and the meaning of the entire group of people, and what each line and each lyric means. what it for the amazing final number where all the songs fit together perfectly.
more than anything- watch it for yourself. watch it for the times you've sat and thought "i wish things were like they were a year ago." i know that ryan and i have been thinking and praying that very often right now. i don't know if my other friends from back home are thinking the same thing, i don't know if they ever miss what we had or are worried that they're losing it like i am afraid of every day, but this movie helps me udnerstand life so much more. and don't demean it or me if you don't understand it or refuse to see it.
sit down with me to watch it and let's talk- i'll make you love it. i know these people, we are these people. and i don't know if sini or aaron or scruggs or james understands what this makes me feel, but it allows me to trust that we will never stop being friends. it lets me stop being afraid that i'm going to lose everything. it brings me back home, back to planet earth. i trust in the world, i understand that things change and sometimes things really fucking suck and sometimes it feels like my whole world is colapsing in on me and this is the end isn't it? but it isn't, and i believe in myself and my friends that things like this aren't going to end.
after watching the entire thing over ten times, the director/actor commentary, all the deleted scenes, the full-length documentary, all the interviews and illegal videos of the stage performances i can get my grubby little hands on, it only amazes me more. you think it's just some shallow musical you can look over, but if you can't look deeper into it than that than it's your own fault for thinking it shallow because you won't consider that a movie of its calibre can carry something greater within it. i challenge you to really watch it, to really consider the acting and the tiniest detail. i challenge you to appreciate the musical talent that had to go into it and the real point of the ending- no matter if you like it or not, think about the message they're trying to get across.
these things are real. you might think it's over the top, but it isn't.
i have fallen in love with everything RENT.
i hope that my friends understand how much i miss them, and how on the days where i feel closest to giving up, the memories of our last year together keeps me going. please, never forget any of that, and get back in touch, and stay that way, and don't ever, ever let me or any of us lose you. we are each other and we are one heart and we can not let space separate that. i love you all so very much, and this movie solidifies that love, and squelches my fear of losing you all, and brings me back to a place that i love every time i watch it.
good night.
good morning.
good life.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
you can't dump me- you're blind!
CSI is probably the most rediculous show i have ever had the displeasure of watching. it positively butchers the legal, medical, and scientific world in ways i didn't know people could fathom. the medical tests that the doctors and medical examiner's conduct are out of this world, having images of the human body project up on a computer screen that no current hospital ever had or could ever invent. and since when can these machines point out, with bright, blinking yellow boxes, exactly what the examiner is looking for? and since when is it necessary protocol to accuse a man just out of surgery that he purposely put his copilot in a coma so he couldn't answer questions he somehow knew would occur after a plane crash he didn't cause?
W-T-F!
and their characters have such mesmerizing dialogue as "you can't dump me- you're blind!" and "good thing manequins aren't people." not to mention the criminals they portray are probably the most moronic characters ever created so much that they are laughably inhuman. there's a doctor who wants to gain on the insurance policy he's taken out on his hands, what is his first idea as to how? well, obviously, take his partner to grand central station and have his partner pour acid on his hands during rush hour. but- uh oh- the partner flubs it up and the doctor ends up dead from acid to the face.
who writes this shit?
i won't even go INTO the absolute idiocy that is their genetics lab and forensic pathology, considering the abhorable dialogue only humorize slightly the way they portay genetics, with tests that are so science fiction i feel like i'm watching star trek. you take the DNA from a dead girl, DNA from another guy, and instantly you can match it to a child you have no sample of? creating a dna fingerprint in about 6 seconds by putting a drop of blood into a canister? let me tell you, i've made a DNA fingerprint, and it takes 2 days and lots of work- they don't even extract the DNA from the blood! they don't even run a polymerase chain reaction so where the hell did they get the sample?! there's no centrefuge, no adding dye, no counting nitrogenous bases- they don't even know how to read the damn fingerprint! how did these people get into crime scene investigation?!
ok, so i did go into the idiocy that is their genetics lab, but i got all excited.
the point here is, if the news media wants to assume that criminals out there are devising perfect crimes because of crime shows, they certainly aren't crime shows like CSI, because that shit is off the wall crazy.
no polymerase chain reaction using a viral plasmid?! who does that?
<3 gen
W-T-F!
and their characters have such mesmerizing dialogue as "you can't dump me- you're blind!" and "good thing manequins aren't people." not to mention the criminals they portray are probably the most moronic characters ever created so much that they are laughably inhuman. there's a doctor who wants to gain on the insurance policy he's taken out on his hands, what is his first idea as to how? well, obviously, take his partner to grand central station and have his partner pour acid on his hands during rush hour. but- uh oh- the partner flubs it up and the doctor ends up dead from acid to the face.
who writes this shit?
i won't even go INTO the absolute idiocy that is their genetics lab and forensic pathology, considering the abhorable dialogue only humorize slightly the way they portay genetics, with tests that are so science fiction i feel like i'm watching star trek. you take the DNA from a dead girl, DNA from another guy, and instantly you can match it to a child you have no sample of? creating a dna fingerprint in about 6 seconds by putting a drop of blood into a canister? let me tell you, i've made a DNA fingerprint, and it takes 2 days and lots of work- they don't even extract the DNA from the blood! they don't even run a polymerase chain reaction so where the hell did they get the sample?! there's no centrefuge, no adding dye, no counting nitrogenous bases- they don't even know how to read the damn fingerprint! how did these people get into crime scene investigation?!
ok, so i did go into the idiocy that is their genetics lab, but i got all excited.
the point here is, if the news media wants to assume that criminals out there are devising perfect crimes because of crime shows, they certainly aren't crime shows like CSI, because that shit is off the wall crazy.
no polymerase chain reaction using a viral plasmid?! who does that?
<3 gen
Sunday, February 12, 2006
cliffs of red clay
today was a good day. the day that i needed. the day to give me a reality check, about things that are beautiful and good and untainted by everything else that i have in my life.
today i woke up late and ate cinnamon rolls with my friends. we went for a walk through deep woods and saw antique bridges and walked through mud and climbed over mossy trees. we went up high hills and looked out over the tennessee river while the sun was high on the horizon and the chilly air blew up off the river and made us all huddle together. we heard the water and the birds and the wind.
and i walked home with my true love in the slow-falling snow, the tiny flakes hitting my eyelashes and we kissed in the street. and i stood in lindsey's front yard while the snow came down in great big chunks of ice and coated the ground and the wind blew the snow sideways. and i stared out over the river while the sun peeked out from under the clouds and heavy snow blowing everywhere and i kissed ryan again and everything was just so beautiful.
then we all made pasta together, ate a nice meal all at the table like a family, and watched good movies and loved each other very much.
today was the day that i needed to show me everything.
<3 gen
today i woke up late and ate cinnamon rolls with my friends. we went for a walk through deep woods and saw antique bridges and walked through mud and climbed over mossy trees. we went up high hills and looked out over the tennessee river while the sun was high on the horizon and the chilly air blew up off the river and made us all huddle together. we heard the water and the birds and the wind.
and i walked home with my true love in the slow-falling snow, the tiny flakes hitting my eyelashes and we kissed in the street. and i stood in lindsey's front yard while the snow came down in great big chunks of ice and coated the ground and the wind blew the snow sideways. and i stared out over the river while the sun peeked out from under the clouds and heavy snow blowing everywhere and i kissed ryan again and everything was just so beautiful.
then we all made pasta together, ate a nice meal all at the table like a family, and watched good movies and loved each other very much.
today was the day that i needed to show me everything.
<3 gen
Thursday, February 09, 2006
how ryan cooper feels about dinosaurs....
Monday, February 06, 2006
the only living boy in new york
it's amazing what a nicer mood you get into after you clean up your space. living with four people in one room, this place gets pretty disgusting. i'm someone who doesn't mind mess and can't clean up after myself to save my own life, i just dust compulsively and my roomies appreciate that, lindsey is someone who likes things clean and neat, but is cluttered because she's always too bouncy and excited to worry about cleaning, andrew doesn't give a fuck about anything, the least of which is a clean room, and ryan will bitch about the room all day and night but won't lift a finger until it gets to the point where ebola is growing in the corners.
so, i took the initiative, put on garden state, and cleaned the motherfuck out of this place. i overhauled the bathroom, getting rid of weeks worth of newspaper and toilet paper rolls. cleaned out the sinks, got rid of the dish drainer [i.e. putting it on the shelf in the hallway], and put all our stuff on one side. we've got a new suitemate moving in and he'll need a sink.
then i threw away every ounce of garbage on mine and ryan's side of the room that i could find, put our clothes into equal piles, hid my stuff beside the tv stand, and organized all our school books. i also fixed ryan's shrines, excorsized his lamp [it was possessed by demons of the underworld], and dusted every appliance and object i could reach- on both sides of the room.
so now i have a nice environment to drink my tea, write my essay, and finish garden state before falling to sleep.
god damnit.
it's 3:47 a.m.
the one downfall to cleaning like a madwoman- now i don't have time to do the things that caused me to clean. i will go to sleep, then use the hour between french and english tomorrow to finish this paper, it's really all downhill from the point i'm at now anyway.
"good luck exploring the infinite abyss"
<3 gen
p.s. i need to buy a watch, buy myself a pay-as-you-go cellphone, apply for a debit card, and start seriously looking at scholarships. good night.
so, i took the initiative, put on garden state, and cleaned the motherfuck out of this place. i overhauled the bathroom, getting rid of weeks worth of newspaper and toilet paper rolls. cleaned out the sinks, got rid of the dish drainer [i.e. putting it on the shelf in the hallway], and put all our stuff on one side. we've got a new suitemate moving in and he'll need a sink.
then i threw away every ounce of garbage on mine and ryan's side of the room that i could find, put our clothes into equal piles, hid my stuff beside the tv stand, and organized all our school books. i also fixed ryan's shrines, excorsized his lamp [it was possessed by demons of the underworld], and dusted every appliance and object i could reach- on both sides of the room.
so now i have a nice environment to drink my tea, write my essay, and finish garden state before falling to sleep.
god damnit.
it's 3:47 a.m.
the one downfall to cleaning like a madwoman- now i don't have time to do the things that caused me to clean. i will go to sleep, then use the hour between french and english tomorrow to finish this paper, it's really all downhill from the point i'm at now anyway.
"good luck exploring the infinite abyss"
<3 gen
p.s. i need to buy a watch, buy myself a pay-as-you-go cellphone, apply for a debit card, and start seriously looking at scholarships. good night.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
we will be wildlife children
i think one day we will begin to devolve.
all of sudden, after centuries of slouching, our backs will bow and crack until we walk completely bent over like we're all looking for the change we just dropped. everything will be moving so fast, that shopping and eating will become first-come-first-serve. everything will be a race, and we wil bash eachother's heads from running bent over for the last morsel for 5.99. sooner or later we will start hunting food, because its the only way we can figure to eat, because the race has become too fast and too dangerous.
car accidents will become the leading cause of death for everyone. animals and humans alike, automobiles are the new plague, the new aids. everyone is just going to fast that all we can do is slow down. we'll start walking out in the woods so we aren't hit from flying shrapnal from the thousands of car wrecks every day. explosions will sound all day long, and nothing but construction and slicing trees can be heard for miles.
the people in the gated communities will eventually become right up against the interstate, and after a few house fires from flying car engines and hundreds of children dying in the streets from flying vehicles, the yuppies and their families will move further out into the neighborhoods, buying small houses away from the noise.
but the all day noise and explosions and danger won't be able to be escaped. we'll move into the forests that are left, the few that greenpeace and sierra club have saved. the animals that have survived will be in surplus since their habitat has been reduced so drastically. we'll hunt our own food, and build our own houses. we will walk hunched over and pray that no one else comes for us.
the crews will come to us and try to build their wal-marts and their mcdonalds and their gateway stores, but we will stand on our front lines, we will protect our families and our trees and we will shout in rough voices, "you will not take this. this land is not for you. go away." and we will take them down with our primitive tools, because they can't fight us. civilization will deplete because we just can't take the danger any more.
we will grow together in natural, healthy communities. we will redevelop social roles and gender biases. prejudices will shift and empathy will thrive because we all moved here for the same reason.
contruction will end, cars will stop driving, because there's no one left. the people left in the cities to shop at the malls and race for the food will have died, in competition or on the interstates. most of them died on contact. the newest disease spreading across the world is technology.
so then we will be like atoms, searching to reach our lowest potential energy. we will devolve and reevaluate and recreate and ressurect our universe.
one day we will re-survive our creation, and perhaps we will avoid the burning engines from cars in mid-air, and the twenty-thousand floor buildings, and the television broadcast directly into our minds.
one day we will not know "television".
<3 gen
all of sudden, after centuries of slouching, our backs will bow and crack until we walk completely bent over like we're all looking for the change we just dropped. everything will be moving so fast, that shopping and eating will become first-come-first-serve. everything will be a race, and we wil bash eachother's heads from running bent over for the last morsel for 5.99. sooner or later we will start hunting food, because its the only way we can figure to eat, because the race has become too fast and too dangerous.
car accidents will become the leading cause of death for everyone. animals and humans alike, automobiles are the new plague, the new aids. everyone is just going to fast that all we can do is slow down. we'll start walking out in the woods so we aren't hit from flying shrapnal from the thousands of car wrecks every day. explosions will sound all day long, and nothing but construction and slicing trees can be heard for miles.
the people in the gated communities will eventually become right up against the interstate, and after a few house fires from flying car engines and hundreds of children dying in the streets from flying vehicles, the yuppies and their families will move further out into the neighborhoods, buying small houses away from the noise.
but the all day noise and explosions and danger won't be able to be escaped. we'll move into the forests that are left, the few that greenpeace and sierra club have saved. the animals that have survived will be in surplus since their habitat has been reduced so drastically. we'll hunt our own food, and build our own houses. we will walk hunched over and pray that no one else comes for us.
the crews will come to us and try to build their wal-marts and their mcdonalds and their gateway stores, but we will stand on our front lines, we will protect our families and our trees and we will shout in rough voices, "you will not take this. this land is not for you. go away." and we will take them down with our primitive tools, because they can't fight us. civilization will deplete because we just can't take the danger any more.
we will grow together in natural, healthy communities. we will redevelop social roles and gender biases. prejudices will shift and empathy will thrive because we all moved here for the same reason.
contruction will end, cars will stop driving, because there's no one left. the people left in the cities to shop at the malls and race for the food will have died, in competition or on the interstates. most of them died on contact. the newest disease spreading across the world is technology.
so then we will be like atoms, searching to reach our lowest potential energy. we will devolve and reevaluate and recreate and ressurect our universe.
one day we will re-survive our creation, and perhaps we will avoid the burning engines from cars in mid-air, and the twenty-thousand floor buildings, and the television broadcast directly into our minds.
one day we will not know "television".
<3 gen
Thursday, January 26, 2006
don't wake me i plan on sleeping in
allright, so it has recently come to my attention that i feel the shittiest i have felt in months. someone's airborne, god-forsaken, man-eating cold crept up on me yesterday, and today, without so much as a warning or sympathy card it it me full-force with a brick to the face. i feel absolutely awful. when i get a cold, i get a fucking cold, and my head seems to be slowly collapsing in on itself, while my nose bursts into flame, my throat coated in a fine layer of what can only be described as GAK circa 1994, which puts me in a constant state of feeling like i'm going to vomit. this fucking sucks.
not to mention that since this morning, it is becoming increasingly clear that i need to have my wisdom teeth taken out. it was looking like the little fuckers were going to creep in under the radar of my anal, oral-surgery obsessed dentists. but low and behold, the one on the back right has popped inand made his presence known making it nearly impossible to eat without sering pain through my jaw on that side. NOT to fucking mention that i just got done having that stupid fucking stomach virus so i can actually eat regular food again, but i can eat even LESS now because i can't god damn chew.
i want to be at home with my mommy. i feel so disgusting, not to mention sick makes me feel lonely and sad anyway, and my boyfriend is asleep. so i'm just going to sit here, feel like crap, and miss my family where they take care of me.
pros of being in college:
-eat what and when i want
-sleep when i feel like it
-act on my whims
cons
-no mommy
-no one taking care of me
-did i mention no mommy?
<3 gen
{pout}
not to mention that since this morning, it is becoming increasingly clear that i need to have my wisdom teeth taken out. it was looking like the little fuckers were going to creep in under the radar of my anal, oral-surgery obsessed dentists. but low and behold, the one on the back right has popped inand made his presence known making it nearly impossible to eat without sering pain through my jaw on that side. NOT to fucking mention that i just got done having that stupid fucking stomach virus so i can actually eat regular food again, but i can eat even LESS now because i can't god damn chew.
i want to be at home with my mommy. i feel so disgusting, not to mention sick makes me feel lonely and sad anyway, and my boyfriend is asleep. so i'm just going to sit here, feel like crap, and miss my family where they take care of me.
pros of being in college:
-eat what and when i want
-sleep when i feel like it
-act on my whims
cons
-no mommy
-no one taking care of me
-did i mention no mommy?
<3 gen
{pout}
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
coagulated
this is good story
so monday night, my creative writing class trekked across the parking lot and through the doors into gorgas library. we travelled to the third floor, my favorite floor, because it is full of fiction, literary criticisms, and science journals. our assignment was a simple one: find a book, pick a page, and use the words on that page in any new form you choose to create an original work. our teacher put money in the copier, and we were told to choose one page with lots of text, and copy it. i searched for a book for longer than anyone else, my desire to find a genetics book and use their scientific jargon to create prose. my search proved futile, so at the last second i grabbed "an american dream" from the shelf - a small, antique-looking book with a battered brown cover. i flipped through the pages, and on a certain page the word "coagulated" jumped out at me and i chose that page- page 59. i photocopied the page, stuffed it into my bookbag, and left- it wasn't due till wednesday.
so today, after french, i walked over to the starbucks to start on my assignment. i ordered a sweet coffee, sat down on a couch, and pulled out my notebook. i took a few seconds to rip off the edges of the photocopy to reduce my copy to the single page- page 59. i sat down, ready to start, and read what i had brought with me.
you can read what i read if you like, at the bottom of the page, you then may understand my feelings better.
i was moved to tears. unbelievably moved. magnificently changed. i read over it what must have been ten times, just in awe. how did i manage to pick this page, this moment, this desperate scene out of all the hundreds of pages? how could i have walked around with such emotion in my bag and not felt its weight? how could these words have been hiding in my pack for two days without them breaking free and screaming "look at us we are beautiful!" until i was forced to read them. the page, isolated from all its brothers and sisters, tells only a tiny fraction of a story, but at the same time tells so very much. i cried in the middle of starbucks, surrounded by people blabbing about facebook and vanilla lattes and gymnastics, and they were ignorant to the bright light i held in my hands. i just wanted to force them all to read it, to start a sobbing fest in that coffee shop and change everyone's life.
the tiny bits of dialogue are the most amazing. it is so horribly sad without using any words like sadness, or any tears, or any explanation. its description and simplicity evoke the deepest sort of sadness and sympathy, and there is so much about the narrator that is revealed. a good book is one that you can read the entire story in one page, and this is that. the words are so sweet, the narration so matter-of-fact while at the same time being so intensely mournful. i couldn't get enough of it. i wanted to swallow it whole, i wanted the words to run through my blood, i wanted something to show for this feeling that overcame me. i wanted to burst into flame.
after reading it enough times to where i was satisfied with my feelings for it, i started my assignment. i wanted to use every single word the author had, i wanted to somehow get that same reaction and that same meaning and make eveyrone in my class just burn with the same intensity that i had. i separated the whole page, made columns for all the nouns, all the verbs, the adjectives, adverbs, prepositions. i wrote down all the personal pronouns, articles, adjectives that could be nouns and prepositions that could be adjectives. i picked apart every piece i could get my fingers on, separating and labeling every part of every sentence. i wrote down all the punctuation- i wanted to be thorough.
then, as i readied myself to begin rearranging, i suddenly felt a great sense of guilt. what had i done? this beautiful piece, these moving feelings and intense emotions, i had just reduced the entire page to several pieces of paper covered in meaningless garbage. i felt like i had gone into someone's home, stolen their baby, and pinned it down and dissected it, spreading all its parts on their floor, and yelling "i didn't mean to! it was so beautiful! it was only homework!" i looked at all my work and rearranging and felt disgusting, like i had destroyed something irreplacable. i read the original page again, trying to catch that original feeling, the holes it stuck in me- but still, i felt so plainly awful.
so i crumpled up my pages of dissection and stuffed them in my sweet coffee cup and threw them away. i read the page over again, and penciled in some thoughts on the copy, underlined particularly good words, and contemplated different ways to rearrange. but i just couldn't sit there any more with all the baby parts lying in front of me in a bloody mess. i'll do the assignment, and i might post it if any of you want to read it, but i just thought i would share this strange little experience.
it's changed my life in a very small way.
and i'm going to read this book.
<3>An American Dream page 59
of pink-tinted glasses was sitting in his car, the door open, holding
his temple, and groaning in a whining gurgling sound which be-
trayed the shoddy state of his internal plumbing.
But I had broken through the crowd and was about to kneel at
Deborah's body. An arm in a blue serge sleeve held me back.
"Officer, that's my wife."
The arm went down suddenly. "You better not look, mister"
There was nothing agreeable to see. She must have first struck
the pavement, and the nearest car had been almost at a halt before it
hit her. Perhaps it pushed the body a few feet. Now her limbs
had the used-up look of rope washed limp in the sea, and her
head was wedged beneath a tire. There was a man taking photo-
graphs, his strobe light going off each time with a mean crackling
hiss, and as I knelt, he stepped back and turned to someone else, a
doctor with a satchel in his hand, and said, "She's yours."
"All right, move the car back," the doctor said. Two policemen
near me pushed on the automobile and retired the front wheels a
foot before the car bumped gently into the car behind it. I knelt
ahead of the medical examiner and looked at her face. It was filthy
with a scrape of asphalt and tire marks. Just hald of her was
recognizable, for the side of her face which caught the tire was
swollen. She looked like a fat young girl. But trhe back of her head,
like a fruit gone rotten and lying in its juices, was the center of a
pond of coagulated blood near to a foot in diameter. I stayed between
the police photographer who was getting ready to take more pictures
and the medical examiner who was opening his satchel, and still
on my knees, touched my face to hers, being careful to catch some of
the blood on my hands, and even (as I nuzzled her hair with my
nose) a streak of two more on my cheeks. "Oh, baby," I said alound. It
might have been good to weep, but nothing of that sort was even
near. No, shock and stupor would be the best I could muster.
"Deborah," I said, and like an echo from the worst of one's past
came a clear sense of doing this before, of making love to some
so monday night, my creative writing class trekked across the parking lot and through the doors into gorgas library. we travelled to the third floor, my favorite floor, because it is full of fiction, literary criticisms, and science journals. our assignment was a simple one: find a book, pick a page, and use the words on that page in any new form you choose to create an original work. our teacher put money in the copier, and we were told to choose one page with lots of text, and copy it. i searched for a book for longer than anyone else, my desire to find a genetics book and use their scientific jargon to create prose. my search proved futile, so at the last second i grabbed "an american dream" from the shelf - a small, antique-looking book with a battered brown cover. i flipped through the pages, and on a certain page the word "coagulated" jumped out at me and i chose that page- page 59. i photocopied the page, stuffed it into my bookbag, and left- it wasn't due till wednesday.
so today, after french, i walked over to the starbucks to start on my assignment. i ordered a sweet coffee, sat down on a couch, and pulled out my notebook. i took a few seconds to rip off the edges of the photocopy to reduce my copy to the single page- page 59. i sat down, ready to start, and read what i had brought with me.
you can read what i read if you like, at the bottom of the page, you then may understand my feelings better.
i was moved to tears. unbelievably moved. magnificently changed. i read over it what must have been ten times, just in awe. how did i manage to pick this page, this moment, this desperate scene out of all the hundreds of pages? how could i have walked around with such emotion in my bag and not felt its weight? how could these words have been hiding in my pack for two days without them breaking free and screaming "look at us we are beautiful!" until i was forced to read them. the page, isolated from all its brothers and sisters, tells only a tiny fraction of a story, but at the same time tells so very much. i cried in the middle of starbucks, surrounded by people blabbing about facebook and vanilla lattes and gymnastics, and they were ignorant to the bright light i held in my hands. i just wanted to force them all to read it, to start a sobbing fest in that coffee shop and change everyone's life.
the tiny bits of dialogue are the most amazing. it is so horribly sad without using any words like sadness, or any tears, or any explanation. its description and simplicity evoke the deepest sort of sadness and sympathy, and there is so much about the narrator that is revealed. a good book is one that you can read the entire story in one page, and this is that. the words are so sweet, the narration so matter-of-fact while at the same time being so intensely mournful. i couldn't get enough of it. i wanted to swallow it whole, i wanted the words to run through my blood, i wanted something to show for this feeling that overcame me. i wanted to burst into flame.
after reading it enough times to where i was satisfied with my feelings for it, i started my assignment. i wanted to use every single word the author had, i wanted to somehow get that same reaction and that same meaning and make eveyrone in my class just burn with the same intensity that i had. i separated the whole page, made columns for all the nouns, all the verbs, the adjectives, adverbs, prepositions. i wrote down all the personal pronouns, articles, adjectives that could be nouns and prepositions that could be adjectives. i picked apart every piece i could get my fingers on, separating and labeling every part of every sentence. i wrote down all the punctuation- i wanted to be thorough.
then, as i readied myself to begin rearranging, i suddenly felt a great sense of guilt. what had i done? this beautiful piece, these moving feelings and intense emotions, i had just reduced the entire page to several pieces of paper covered in meaningless garbage. i felt like i had gone into someone's home, stolen their baby, and pinned it down and dissected it, spreading all its parts on their floor, and yelling "i didn't mean to! it was so beautiful! it was only homework!" i looked at all my work and rearranging and felt disgusting, like i had destroyed something irreplacable. i read the original page again, trying to catch that original feeling, the holes it stuck in me- but still, i felt so plainly awful.
so i crumpled up my pages of dissection and stuffed them in my sweet coffee cup and threw them away. i read the page over again, and penciled in some thoughts on the copy, underlined particularly good words, and contemplated different ways to rearrange. but i just couldn't sit there any more with all the baby parts lying in front of me in a bloody mess. i'll do the assignment, and i might post it if any of you want to read it, but i just thought i would share this strange little experience.
it's changed my life in a very small way.
and i'm going to read this book.
<3>An American Dream page 59
of pink-tinted glasses was sitting in his car, the door open, holding
his temple, and groaning in a whining gurgling sound which be-
trayed the shoddy state of his internal plumbing.
But I had broken through the crowd and was about to kneel at
Deborah's body. An arm in a blue serge sleeve held me back.
"Officer, that's my wife."
The arm went down suddenly. "You better not look, mister"
There was nothing agreeable to see. She must have first struck
the pavement, and the nearest car had been almost at a halt before it
hit her. Perhaps it pushed the body a few feet. Now her limbs
had the used-up look of rope washed limp in the sea, and her
head was wedged beneath a tire. There was a man taking photo-
graphs, his strobe light going off each time with a mean crackling
hiss, and as I knelt, he stepped back and turned to someone else, a
doctor with a satchel in his hand, and said, "She's yours."
"All right, move the car back," the doctor said. Two policemen
near me pushed on the automobile and retired the front wheels a
foot before the car bumped gently into the car behind it. I knelt
ahead of the medical examiner and looked at her face. It was filthy
with a scrape of asphalt and tire marks. Just hald of her was
recognizable, for the side of her face which caught the tire was
swollen. She looked like a fat young girl. But trhe back of her head,
like a fruit gone rotten and lying in its juices, was the center of a
pond of coagulated blood near to a foot in diameter. I stayed between
the police photographer who was getting ready to take more pictures
and the medical examiner who was opening his satchel, and still
on my knees, touched my face to hers, being careful to catch some of
the blood on my hands, and even (as I nuzzled her hair with my
nose) a streak of two more on my cheeks. "Oh, baby," I said alound. It
might have been good to weep, but nothing of that sort was even
near. No, shock and stupor would be the best I could muster.
"Deborah," I said, and like an echo from the worst of one's past
came a clear sense of doing this before, of making love to some
Monday, January 23, 2006
digestion imperfection
i find that blogger, much like a beautiful woman, has such attractive and beauteous design that i can somehwat overlook its aformentioned annoyances and shortcomings. so here i am, to return to the blogging site that i am so good at complaining about.
i seem to have somewhat beaten this stupid stomach infection that i have- and i am fairly certain that's what it is. i managed to eat tuna and a plum earlier, and so far my intestines have yet to scream and thrash in protest. i believe that the key to these health problems is to find food that doesn't piss of any of my inner organs, and that has so far proven to evade all potential agony associated with my digestive system. the following things can not be ingested any longer:
1. paty [which usually isn't safe for any human being, anyway]
2. anything moderately greasy
3. anything heavy in sugar
4. anything with alot of fat, like mayonaise or salad dressing
5. pretty much any food that is moderately "tasty" "delicious" or "fucking amazing", my diet is now reduced to things that fall under the category of "fruit" "vegetable" or "cow dung"
*sigh* i feel like i am getting a 50 year old's stomach and little early. so now i have the beauty of a young metabolism, and not the stomach to take advantage of it. then again, maybe this is god's way of making me get to a healthy weight- by literally forcing me to eat healthy food. fuck god.
i want a cookie.
<3 gen
i seem to have somewhat beaten this stupid stomach infection that i have- and i am fairly certain that's what it is. i managed to eat tuna and a plum earlier, and so far my intestines have yet to scream and thrash in protest. i believe that the key to these health problems is to find food that doesn't piss of any of my inner organs, and that has so far proven to evade all potential agony associated with my digestive system. the following things can not be ingested any longer:
1. paty [which usually isn't safe for any human being, anyway]2. anything moderately greasy
3. anything heavy in sugar
4. anything with alot of fat, like mayonaise or salad dressing
5. pretty much any food that is moderately "tasty" "delicious" or "fucking amazing", my diet is now reduced to things that fall under the category of "fruit" "vegetable" or "cow dung"
*sigh* i feel like i am getting a 50 year old's stomach and little early. so now i have the beauty of a young metabolism, and not the stomach to take advantage of it. then again, maybe this is god's way of making me get to a healthy weight- by literally forcing me to eat healthy food. fuck god.
i want a cookie.
<3 gen
Sunday, January 22, 2006
endlessly irritating
why i have returned to this pathetic blogspot, i do not know. the navigtion is aggravatingly difficult, my profile picture continues to look horribly pixelated no matter what action i take to replace it, the design tools are unclear and fickle, and the publishing process, which other blogs seem to have no trouble making a point-and-click procedure, blogger manages to add a thousand more buttons to add to my annoyance.
i do not think that anything frustrates me so much as technology that tries to make things more "convenient" by adding ten thousand more options and patches and extensions which, in reality, just make everything ten thousand times more difficult and annoying to use. not to mention that it then proceeds to make me feel incredibly stupid.
that frustration then leads to me and my boyfriend arguing over nothing, but just annoyed by eachother's idiosyncracies, the sounds of our voice, the way we look at one another. we read into it way too much, we get frsutrated, i listen to music and pretend i don't just want to scream.
all of this just because this stupid god-forsaken website is overly difficult, firefox makes everything complicated and won't read my xanga html, and my boyfriend's keyboard is so insensitive that i have to practically bash it to pieces to make it recognize that i'm typing.
fuck technology and fuck blogger.
internet explorer, xanga, and old keyboards rock the world.
fuck.
<3 gen
i do not think that anything frustrates me so much as technology that tries to make things more "convenient" by adding ten thousand more options and patches and extensions which, in reality, just make everything ten thousand times more difficult and annoying to use. not to mention that it then proceeds to make me feel incredibly stupid.
that frustration then leads to me and my boyfriend arguing over nothing, but just annoyed by eachother's idiosyncracies, the sounds of our voice, the way we look at one another. we read into it way too much, we get frsutrated, i listen to music and pretend i don't just want to scream.
all of this just because this stupid god-forsaken website is overly difficult, firefox makes everything complicated and won't read my xanga html, and my boyfriend's keyboard is so insensitive that i have to practically bash it to pieces to make it recognize that i'm typing.
fuck technology and fuck blogger.
internet explorer, xanga, and old keyboards rock the world.
fuck.
<3 gen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)