Jaimie

August 2009 I think was my friend Coco's birthday. The Jeanie Johnston pub in JP had karaoke and I was there with Abby and co. Coco was dating this guy named Andy, who was a punker, a nice guy. One of his friends sitting with him was this tall skinny guy with glasses and boat shoes. His legs were crossed and he did something kind of effeminate with his hands so I took him for gay. But he was cute and kept looking at me. Who could resist manic panic red hair after, all. Before I left he tried to get me to do a duet. I don't remember how we got together after that but we had a date at James' Gate and he told me all about how he currently was in a death metal band and in the past had done the whole hippie co-op thing. He'd also roadied for Against Me a long, long time ago, shit like that. Now he had a 9-5 job for blue collar job rights, wore a tie, had a dog, etc.
oh look, i found a picture
He actually owned a house. We watched family guy and had pizza, beer, and the only time I've ever done karaoke -"Talk dirty to me" by Poison. He went to Chicago on business while we were seeing each other and mentioned beforehand that he had a female friend there whom he'd probably sleep with on the trip. You know, just letting me know beforehand. His dog was tiny, but very protective and bit my naked thigh once in bed. He could only sleep comfortably with a pillow over his head.
Once after a night of partying we got breakfast at a cafe near my house. The next day over the phone he admitted that while sober he didn't have anything to talk about with me and pretty much ended the relationship. It made me extremely sour. He also drove drunk. Whatever.

cont...

So yeah. The Captain was kind of crazy. He had a free bird tattoo on his neck. Also, a tattoo of a pin-up girl with small pox and a giant labia for a head. Abby told me that probably wasn't dating material. He always talked about the tattoos he'd give me-for free, after hours, but it never happened. It annoyed me when he'd try to pressure-"When am I gonna get to tattoo you??" and I'd reply "I dunno, when ARE you?" because we both knew he wouldn't. I gave him an awesome drawing once which I was hesitant about because in the past I'd given other people drawings and the relationship ended soon after. Same curse here. I don't know why, it just always happens.
Some time late last year or early this year he was over at my place and got too rough. Biting or choking and I wasn't into it so he hit me across the face. And then when I freaked out he wouldn't leave. He stopped but wouldn't leave, tried talking or pretending to be sorry. I don't think he was, just that it was cold out and too late to catch a train back to Salem so staying at my place was easier. And as I was breathing fire he attempted to calm me down so it wouldn't be quite so awkward to stay. I've never felt so powerless. I just wanted to be alone and here the dude wouldn't even get out of my bed.
The last time I saw him was days before moving to Chicago. I had a bundle of foreign coins and was on Commonwealth ave, trading them in for american cash, strutting down the sidewalk, happy to be done at my job, possibly even whistling when I saw him coming down the street. He looked older for some reason, pale, dressed all in black with black hair, like a vampire. We were civil. The only thought in my mind was that he looked like the antichrist, but he'd probably like that.

There was a gap between the Captain and Kyle #2 last year when I briefly dated Jaimie. It was only for a month or so, Sept I think. Trying to count backwards here.
Kyle #2-winter 2010,
Jaimie-fall 2009,
Captain-spring/summer 2009,
David -briefly spring 2009,
Adam-fall 2008.

Exey

I dated the Captain in 2009. At the time I had pink hair and was still upset over being dumped a few months earlier by Adam, the prettiest guy I ever dated. I was living with Abby and her geriatric cat Ophie, who was in love with me. Her other geriatric cat Qipu had just passed away and she wanted to get a tattoo to remember him. Qipu's ashes were in a box on top of Abby's trophy for taint licking in her bedroom. We went to the best tattoo shop in Boston, just down the street from where we lived. I'd been there before but the Captain was a newish employee. About my height, mid-30s, jet black pompadour, covered in tattoos. Neck, hands, fingers, the works. While Abby was being worked on by another employee the Captain and I half-chatted and flirted. I don't really know how to flirt, by the way. Sometimes I try too hard or vice versa but this was nice and even. It was one of those magical times when you just know something's going to happen. My friend Coco also worked at the shop and warned me that he was okay but she was unsure of his attitude towards women. I also heard him talking to a friend while at the shop about some younger girl and wasn't being too polite...though his mocking of her fake Coach bag tipped me off that she was probably the kind of girl I'd openly mock as well. He was aggressive and alive. I liked it.
Later in the week we had a drink at the Brendan Behan pub and while I told myself to take this one slow I also knew it wasn't going to happen. Captain was his real name, he changed it from Robert or something a while ago. He was from Virginia or Kentucky but was obsessed with Halloween and while on a trip to Salem, Mass decided he wanted to live there. Something told me he had issues which made up and moving easy. I knew exactly how that was, after all. We left the bar and went to a hotel, partied like rock stars...and that's pretty much how the relationship went. It wasn't all sex. Like I said he was obsessed with Halloween and the devil and gore which drove me wild. His apartment in Salem was two floors of creepy shit with blood paintings and a cemetery in the backyard (not uncommon in Salem). We watched more horror movies than you can shake a stick at, had expensive dinners, licked each other's tattoos, explored Boston, loved Skynyrd.
Captain talked so fast you could hardly get a word in and when he asked things about me I had short answers but he didn't really listen. He just waited for his turn to talk. He was so crazy and exciting it was fun for a while. I couldn't really call him a real boyfriend but was okay with what it was. After a while the sex became too rough. He'd roll over and sleep with his back to me and when I tried to spoon him he farted. I became annoyed with staring at his tattooed butt while he slept. I became annoyed with his lewd jokes and nose picking and trying to go down on me if I had my period or had just taken a dump. Sometimes you just don't want it. We saw each other once a week or so.
I moved into a different house in the same neighborhood and my bedroom window opened onto a back porch on the second floor. Captain would knock on the window after midnight and crawl inside. It was June and so fucking hot, 100 or hotter for days and days with no air. His sweaty body in my bed became too much. Pretty soon his attitude towards women became all too clear. Not a woman hater but certainly a sadist. Too rough, too much pain. The Captain had a kid back south but clearly just needed to be selfish and was like a big kid. I couldn't handle it.

finish later

ex numero uno (going backwards)

kyle #2

two summers ago when i returned to work from the hospital there had been some new hires. one was a very young massart student. tall and lanky and dark curly hair. i had a small crush on him but everyone did then. very harmless. like a boy scout. i thought nothing of it. too young. i had been in the hospital over my infatuation with a thirty-seven year old man so it was nothing. i was surprised i found someone younger than me attractive at all. early in our friendship he saw me vomit behind a tree after leaping out of our co-worker's car. the winter after that he was in france and it was only when he was gone that the idea of possibly even started to show up in my mind. when he came back with giant curly hair i shrieked and fawned over him, only half-seriously. he was so nice and normal, completely untouched by popular culture. like he grew up without a tv and was home-schooled or something...but not in that creepy/socially retarded way.
our friendship grew over 2009 as i was fucking around with whoever but when the fall came i realized that i genuinely LIKED him. i couldn't think of a thing i didn't like. working saturdays was so awesome, looked forward to it all week. sometimes i'd say something coy or tried to get it out there without being too direct, but any half-assed attempts to show anything were politely shot down. i'm sure he saw me as 1)his boss, 2)too old, 3)risque. because all three were true. his arms were thin but kind of muscle-y. his white tshirts were so innocently transparent that i'd have to look away. there was a halloween party at my house and he came and stayed later than anyone. we sat in my room drinking and tattooing. i'd been bugging him for a while to tattoo me and that night when we sat cross-legged on the floor across from each other and he held my wrist up on his knee with both hands to tattoo it i felt "the feeling". not in a sexual way, but in a way that my heart started pounding in my chest and i couldn't breathe. so pure. like in a movie. i couldn't believe i hadn't felt it before.
we'd hang out a lot more. i got him into the cure and depeche mode. we'd hang out alone, watching movies and shit. sometimes he'd just fuck around with instruments and i'd lay around and watch. i drew him a picture, which is a huge thing for me. it was like crazy best friend shit. when we'd sit on the couch or floor and he'd tattoo my wrist i'd ever so slightly stroke the palm of his hand. when we started to go to the symphony i think i caught him looking at me a certain way. still nothing happened.
i think in january i slept on the couch at his place and we both lay awake in the dark in different places, considering. talking about it later, oh yes, it was too strange, we couldn't be like that, let's not talk about it again, silly. then one night we were laying side by side on my bed on our stomachs like a couple of kids looking at my old foreign coin collection listening to sigur ros or something, half-drunk, and he slung his arm over my back. i think i made a sound like "huuuuuhhhh......." and he pulled me into spooning, teasing that in the past i'd casually mentioned that spooning at any time would be acceptable. i think doves flew out of my chest.
just spooning that night, that was all. soon after that the same thing happened at his house, but i turned on my stomach and kept my face close to his, half-mashed in the pillow, staring at him until he kissed me. sex came within days, i believe. at my house, almost naked, i was terribly hilarious. on top of him, about to shimmy my underpants off(or down around the ankles would have worked, too) i got very serious and confessed that i had a secret, that i wasn't...all...woman...down there. and i think he was going to just roll with it. of course it was a hilarious lie. i am a terrible bitch.
the sex wasn't bad at all. i'd suspected he was a virgin before, but then changed my mind. he'd just been burned badly in the past and hadn't touched a girl in years. sex face to face with someone for the first time, someone who'd been like your best friend was almost too much, i really enjoyed being on our sides, hearing him breathe behind me like i've never heard him breathe before, hands on my hips, pushing against me. i lived on the top floor of a veggie co-op on a hillside in jp, a hippie/gay/dominican-populated area in boston. my bed (a hand-me-down futon, possibly just a mattress on the floor at that time) was under the window with just a solid view of the moon, nothing in the way.
no one at work suspected a thing. my last night in boston we went to a raw restaurant for dinner with the coop, i became ill with nerves. spent the night in intervals of restless sleep and vomiting. he tried to comfort me. in the morning we went to pick up the rental car, packed it and said goodbye outside his house. we said we loved each other, which was true. i cried while driving. for a long time i knew i'd move to chicago. what happened was terrible timing but i wonder if it really was. if it had happened sooner i may not have moved...and it was my time to move. we may have had a long and messy breakup. this way there wasn't a chance. for two months we talked on the phone every night, phone sex sometimes which i'd never done before. i saw him during a layover he had at midway at the end of march, just hugging for twenty minutes. after that, sometime in april? he told me it was too difficult. we didn't have a plan, you know, just this surprise thing that happened right before i moved. he said he couldn't come visit me in chicago as a lover. i hung up and we haven't talked since then. he graduated college and moved to providence, doesn't have a friend there. much like the boat i was in when i moved here. it hurt to ignore him knowing he was so alone and how hard it is as i'd just done it and he had been there for me, on the phone every night. we've written letters twice though. i want to stay his friend even if it hurts, we'd been friends long before the little romantic blip at the end. he's just a fantastic person, doesn't even know the meaning of a one night stand. so different from any other guy i've met. i'm sure when he does date again it'll be someone really awesome, some innocent girl who doesn't wear makeup and would rather make stained glass than go to bars. i sincerely hope he's happy whatever he's doing.

angry

there's no denying it. i'm a dirt-worshipping tree-hugger. i've seen the video of crazy hippies crying and praying in the forest to logged trees and it did make me chuckle. there's a kind of extremely lame and obnoxious hippie out there that everyone has probably come in contact with. i don't really fit in there.

my job is making me vegetarian again, slowly. i've never seen so much dead meat in my life. sometimes in the walk-in cooler there's giant ribs stacked to the ceiling. when you work in a pretty well-known rib place there's gonna be meat everywhere. i don't know the quality of life of the animals before they come to us. the boss buys pretty quality/expensive stuff but i'm not sure if that means anything. i've enjoyed eating meat for most of my life. i don't hate people who do. right now, for me, i can't do it without being disgusted. last month i had food poisoning, which probably has part to do with it. my stomach is still sensitive and most food turns me off. i get hungry but every little thing turns me off. ehhhh.

my sister is having a baby. my cousin is getting married. my other cousin is having another baby. i don't quite feel like a mutant, accepting that i'm in no place to be married or have a kid right now, but it does widen the gap of me vs. family. or, people i'm related to. i have trouble using the word family. there's no bad feelings, i just cannot get close to people. sometimes i feel a hum when i'm with my parents or sister, knowing we have the same blood. i just cannot get close to people. most people. even those i date. sometimes i end up looking at them like i don't even know who they are. but that's a story for another day.
tomorrow is my 27th birthday. so i've been alive for 27 years, entering my twenty eighth year of livin'. i get strange and down during this time of the summer, trying to ignore that as in this fairly new relationship.
he asks me what i want for my birthday.
i don't want a computer, camera, clothes, stuff. there was a point, even like four years ago, where i'd like something brand spanking new. a new tech thing. something to make me feel cool and more in tune with city-living. i watched mtv religiously as a teenager and felt totally inadequate all the time. it's taken a while but i just. don't. care. anymore.
if a guy would surprise me with a shopping spree i'd probably dump his ass pretty fast.
not trying to "hate" on people, women, people who care about cute shoes or whatever new apple product there is. but if they're drowning in shallow treats to ignore the deeper, more natural ache they feel, trying to fill a void with stuff...i can't be down with that. and i don't know how to fill that void. i have a huge hole blasted through the middle of myself. but clothes, expensive haircuts, and cameras only remind me of the natural resources abused to get them. labor, oil, dyes, chemicals. it makes me feel dirty. i'm trying to get by in the city knowing that everything i touch and use daily, someone/thing else has suffered as a result of.

i don't really want anything for my birthday, but i love the dude for wanting to please me. i wonder if he's been on edge since the coke fiasco. fiasco meaning i left a party when there was a chance it was around and when he came home hours later admitting he'd done it, sweating and slurring and breathing too shallow/fast, i snapped.
make no joke about it, i hate coke with a passion. i can't explain why. i think it's dirty, gross, and people who do it are lame hipsters or bloated scumbags. i've also had friends/dated people who do it. while it makes me uncomfortable, everyone is their own person. gotta just let them live. i take prescriptions to keep from having a nervous breakdown and blowing my head off and some people might think that makes me weak. some people hate prescription meds because of how they're tossed around like candy and can just make people worse. but i won't date someone who does coke all the time. nuh uh. on a rare occasion i get wasted, want to party and go balls-out. but doing that often, even every weekend just screams "i have issues". i can't respect people who do that. i'm not in a place right now where i get drunk many times a week. maybe the time will come again. but right now i just can't handle that kind of destruction, or in someone i date.
so the coke thing only happened once.

right now just trying to figure shit out. i'm 27, unskilled and morose. i like teeth. i'd go to dental school. i also have a need to help right now. i'd like to take this fall and go down to the gulf and help, doing whatever. i'm also interested in WOOFING.
though that doesn't pay...and i'm not sure it should.

ah, i feel better from just writing things down. thanks, blog.

mud

wrasslin'
no?
ok.

new

http://laurabm.carbonmade.com/

trying to start this. tough as i don't have a computer of my own.

wuv

box 5

i think this month is trying to kill me. at least it's an interesting ride. the first of the month was the cobra skulls show. it was a possibility that one of the bands needed a place to crash and as i live close to the beat kitchen, sure. turns out they didn't but as i was one of the last few people at the bar waiting for them, neil hennessey was around too. i've never talked to the guy so i figured why not? it was nice. nothing flirtatious about it. i was sober at that point. talked about some historical chicago stuff. when that bar closed we went over to blue light, which is open until 5 on sat. good god. i can never remember which one gets really clubby after two, underbar or blue light. err, it's blue light. it was practically impossible to have a conversation. we were at the bar, he had a stool and i didn't and as more people packed in i got elbowed to standing inbetween his knees, blushing and fumbling for words. he's obviously a fucking babe but i didn't want him to think i was just trying for a hook up. it's surprising to meet someone so normal, not pretentious at all. god knows i'd been here 2 months without a friend and enjoyed the chatting.

there comes a point when you've been hanging out and drinking and laughing and get the long smile and pause...and the next few hours could go one way or another. after jogging in the rain towards my house i panicked, commented that he lived the other way, and we split.

in a perfect world, ahh.

well, a few days after that i heard about this free JBTV show and i'd never heard dead to me so i figured why not? afterwards chicken chased me down the block asking for a light and why i was "leaving so soon". as the show was over what else would i be doing? we didn't hang out that night but he was texting me like crazy and i just ate it up. i like agressive dudes. the texts slowed down after a week or so but i was pretty sure there'd be an interesting encounter at the sub. dude seemed so into me before, so briefly.

so, i was totally wrong. not only did we not hang out but he seemed replused by me. he said hi once but then ran away, then if i saw him in the club he looked right through me. so obviously i didn't approach him again. and man, that's one of the worst feelings. that hot feeling on the back of your neck, embarrassed and stupid. i don't know what happened but he changed his mind about me fast, and that's ok...i just wish i knew before the show so i didn't feel so stupid and ashamed during. the sets were great but my night was totally ruined. afterwards i went down to the bar just in case, so i would know for sure. i also felt like fighting. just ended up getting hit on by a bouncer. then while i was biking home some drunk dude outside a bar started yelling how he hated bikers and throwing shit at me. i just cried the whole ride home.

i know dudes in bands can be flakey but this put me over the edge. too bad they're not all hennessey. that's all i have to say about that.

i got a job this month, have been hanging out with people, things are going ok. i guess you could say the long-distance relationship i was in hanging by it's last thread just snapped. right before i moved to chicago i started something up with a friend of mine. we never settled anything, just talked on the phone every night, knowing it would dissapate soon enough. and it did. aside from that relationship i hardly remember what i was like in boston. things done changed.

i'm just an angry person now. i know that. boston was so pretty and there were hippies and things in jp had a flow. here it's all litter and people are cruel. things are ugly. this is the right place for me right now, making me tough.

gustave

this is how my cat sleeps. flat on his back with a smile on his face sometimes, leg twitching. he has half a tail, four fingers of a stub that wags like a dog. at a certain time of the night he gets his "friskies" where he runs up and down the hallway attacking anything that moves, like my leg.
i still don't have a job and only slightly worried about it. been drinking stale beer in the middle of the day, not showering and eating a lot of corn dogs. i don't think brendan kelly eats corn dogs (often) but other than that he's probably doing the same things. wah wahhh. no, seriously, that guy is married with two dogs and two kids. i only have to support my hand-rolling american spirit smoke habit. i'm most likely going to end up working for a strip club, not as a dancer, entertainer or even a topless waitress. no, really, i tried out for this job. promoting the club. and maybe waitressing. that means i get to wear a lot of make-up, should start wearing a bra (nooo!), and deal with the horny underbelly of the city. uhm, yes? i cannot work in a cubicle. yes, i want to go to dental school eventually but somehow that feels different. will find out this week. should be interesting.
gotta get some fucking food.

today's a day where i get to run around town doing pointless things and just end up spending money on food and transportation, probably. time to go.

phone

not my legs

but if i didn't shave for two months, boy howdy.

the sun is back out. it even tried to snow a few days ago. wtfff. back up to 70 now. you know what that means. beach. my sunburn finally stopped itching from last time. back in the game.

someone i didn't know but biking in an area of boston i hate was killed this week. huntington ave is pretty bad; trolleys, cars, buses, it's the hospital area so lots of ambulences (sp?). it's awful. your tires get stuck in the tracks if you hit them right on and you are launched off your bike. it's happened to me. apparently this fellow was trying to pass a bus on the left and he fell off his bike (most likely from running in the train track) and then was run over by the bus as it was swerving back into traffic. in this case it doesn't even matter if he was wearing his helmet or not. if a bus runs over your abdomen, chest, head that's it. what a horrible way to die. there are so many stupid assholes biking in boston without their hands with their headphones on, cruising between cars half-naked, it's no surprise when someone wipes out. it's still sad when they are killed. but this person wasn't doing that. awful. i wouldn't want to see that happen.

i'm also really disturbed after reading about that girl from hadley who killed herself. i've lived near that area briefly. weird. i've also been traumatized in high school and know how bad it can get. like being spit on and attacked. i never wanted to kill myself because of that but god knows i can sympathize with people who go shooting in their schools. it opens this pretty ugly side of yourself. i wonder if the girl's parents were catholic. i wonder if she didn't get a "proper" burial because of that. i wonder if the parents of the bullies whupped their kid's asses. bullying is as old as the hills and being a teenager sucks major dick. i know it was the worst time of my life. still have frequent nightmares about it. most people probably get it or give it. i wish i could hold this girl and tell her that high school is just a hill to get over. poor thing.

christ. i'm gonna get a sandwich and move on. bummed out.

beach

been spending almost every day at the beach. still on the job hunt, sure! but there's plenty of time to bike to the lake and poke around for little claws. watching other people's dogs is too much fun. i'm thisclose to getting one of my own. a lot of thought goes into it. much stewing.

something noticeably different from boston is the

amount of fucking garbage everywhere.

jesus. on the beach, streets. bus stops. there is a severe lack of garbage cans. the first week or so i was here i saw people littering every day. the beach isn't too bad. no syringes. yet. man, the streets are bad. that wouldn't pass in boston, man. maybe dorchester. or allston. ick.

i've been walking dogs and dicking around in my free time...which is all i have. not drinking as much. smoking more.

ah, i'm outta here.

stomach burrrrnnn

uhh what's new. a "friend" of mine has a layover at midway wednesday. yesterday i went there to know how long it would take, etc. to avoid the subway i took the 49 all the way down western. all the way. i was on that bus for an hour and it wasn't even rush hour. it was kind of awesome. saw a lot of areas i hadn't seen before. saw some real squalor. took the scenic route. sat with some of those god-praisin' baptist round black women. one thing about me is that i'm
terrified of airplanes
never been on one, never even been close, never considered it. seeing one lower in the sky than normal makes my stomach burn. at my old house the sound of airplanes was so loud and constant that it'd often wake me up in a start. western hits the orange line which goes to midway. wednesday morning i'll go back to see my friend, laugh and scream and make out with him, be those annoying/cute people at the airport.

saturday taking part in a video shoot. i couldn't really tell you what it is, arty but not porn. it'll be shown at the art museum (which one, i'm not sure) and i might get to wear a costume. really i'm going on little information and that's fine. i need some stimulation in my life.
last week some high school kids interviewed me talking (me make talk good) about tattoos for their after-school film thing. that was kind of fun.
twice last week i took the bus down irving park out to the suburbs...or what felt like it. why not?
i need some rolling papers.
cleaning in my apartment is surprising and revolting all at once. past tenants included junkies and crackheads and, well, they're just forgetful. some of the condiments in the fridge expired up to ten years ago. the pantry has/had a layer of dead bugs and larve shells that i've never imagined. the front windows had a layer of dirt and grime so thick you couldn't see outside, just blur. good heavens. good thing i like cleaning. and i don't have allergies, which is a plus.

today i got nothin. drawing for a show, watching hamlet and drinking coffee sounds good. i like theatre and mozart and rococo style, but i also like porkin' on a dirty mattress to dead kennedys. not a snooty classy dame.

test

bastards of young

tomorrow i'm volunteering walking dogs at http://www.chicagocaninerescue.org/. you can do 1/2 hr time slots all day, which works for people who have jobs and have some spare time in the morning or late afternoon. or, if you're like me and have spare time between eating tv dinners and doodling. all the spare time in the world ahhhaaaaaahhaaa!!
yesterday i picked up a canvas to use for this future show
i loved the location. backside industrial buildings shitty sidewalks broken glass. also, i may be "featured" as an "artist" on an "indie" website/magazine. quotations. i use these terms half sarcastically/loosely. soon as the questions start i go blank. what/when/why do you draw? i dunno. what are your messages/goals? pardon? what do you wanna do with your life? nothin'.
i wanna be an apathetic loser slipping by for the rest of my days without doing anything to better the world or leave a legacy. that's not totally true. not sure what defines a loser but i sure as shit won't change the world if i tried. and leaving a legacy involves being incredibly powerful/radical/rich/different, of which none of these i currently am. or ever will be.

future volunteering i'll be doing or want to do includes pet-related, prison book or letter-related, children's hospital or nursing home-related.
future hobbies i'd like to pursue include boxing, fencing, religious studies, upping my spanish, watching every movie version of hamlet ever made, submerge myself waist-deep in mozart, learning to shoot a gun, fix a flat on my bike, how car engines work, administer cpr-
it goes on and on.
however, i do need to get a job, even a shitty part-time job making pizzas or something. it'll happen, just not today.

what have i been doing?

not much. sleeping and smoking a lot. drinking a lot as well. what else is new? today i'm up before noon and since it's sunny out have decided to venture downtown. packing along the sedatives in case i have a panic attack. it won't make me sleepy, just function on a normal level i suppose. usually i'm wound up so tense if someone drops a pen near me i jump out of my chair. umm bike riding. spent three hours the other night cleaning my bike...in a brooks brothers cashmere sweater. why not? saw bag pipers saturday night. had a quesadilla at northside friday. went to the grocery store at one am and shoplifted.
there's an intl museum of "surgical science". count me in.

good god

hey, this woman kind of looks like me. i have flaming red hair and a lot of eye liner. and, of course the caption is true.
let's see, let's move backwards. last night i left a beer at the hungry brain half full as i was at the point of drunkenness and any more would have put me over the edge. there were a handful of people there and some jazz, i think, was about to start but i had to make an exit as i think i was starting to sway. this place is small, weird, a block away from me and easy to miss. just about perfect.
before biking there i'd been up the street at beat kitchen-empty on a sunday night when there's no show. that friendly woman patti was working and the oscars were on. she seemed optimistic about me coming back tonight to try and talk my way into a job. the kitchen was closed which was probably why i got drunk so fast. empty stomach.
i'd biked there from the vic, further down at belmont and sheffield? the block before belmont and clark. a venue that reminded me of lupos in providence. looked like a shitty old music hall. paid five bucks to see a movie where i was the only person there. sitting on a bench in an empty old music hall with a movie screen pulled down on the stage felt pretty surreal. for a second i wasn't sure if i was actually awake. the women's room was down a mysterious staircase, odd lights and many corners. i was totally prepared to get lost but that was just an over-active imagination. so yeah. the vic, shitty old music hall that shows cheap movies with uncomfortable seats since it's, err, standing room only. magical. will be going there a lot.

saturday night i went on a bar crawl with my housemate brian. i'd say he's got a good five to ten years on me but doesn't give me the creeps and that's pretty important. first we went down lincoln to this place called delilahs which had sexy (tattooed) bartenders but was full of like post-college yuppies? i don't know. talking was impossible.
walking back up towards belmont we passed a number of bars that were too yuppie or too gay (take that how you will). we ducked into a tiny nameless door under an Old Style sign and walked into a small old-midwest type bar where there's a half-dead dog sleeping in the corner, toothless old folks hanging out and popping open beers, wood paneling and no music playing. probably has looked the same for decades. that kind of shit.
after that we tried the beat kitchen but it was too packed, yelled across the street at dudes outside hungry brain asking what the hell it was, went in and met some nice bartenders. i liked this immediately, even if there were some aging hipsters. not hipster in a rides-a-fixed bike-american-apparel way...but an okay way.
went to underbar and met guy from boston that three other bartenders had talked about. "heart of gold" and "that accent" and that shit. think i was being drunk and creepy. after that we walked to the grocery store to get drunk munchies. it was after one am but these people were walking in with their toddlers. thought that was kind of weird.

friday i biked up to this giant cemetery off ravenswood and saw a pretty cool monument but i was too late in the day and they were locking it up soon. went to a little place across the street called fireside and had a burger and a red stripe. a lot of overweight people sitting around tables having margaritas and buffalo wings. very attractive black server dude with goatee was friendly. haggard blue-collar dude next to me was friendly. i just read the onion. friday night i went over to blue light for a beer. it wasn't spectacular but that was to be expected.

tonight hopefully i can schmooze my way into a serving job at beat kitchen. be friendly but not fake, funny but not stupid, flexible not desperate.

bah-hoppin

last night i already fucked up my different-bar-each-night plan by getting popeyes (which was not great) and falling asleep on the couch/bed by 9pm. thinking i was taking a disco nap and then waking up to try blue light bar next door, i woke up at five am with my contacts crusted to my eyeballs and a bad taste in my mouth. blue light is open until four am so i just missed it. and apparently bars are open an hour later saturday nights, so i live next to two that are open until five. the night before last i went to beat kitchen and sat for a few minutes before being talked to. a single woman at the bar won't be solitary for long, apparently. i met a very nice female bartender there who informed me of a possible job opening.

jackpot.

i'm not a very lucky woman so not getting my hopes up or anything but that would be great. and i'm sure if i start wearing push-up bras that would get me more tips. it's science. had two whatchamacallit beers, two brothers scottish three brothers something. probably should keep better track of that. met two fellows in a band, weren't creepy. then met a vet who'd been injured in the war and was there to see whatever show was there that night. it's still weird to think that someone younger than me can already be a vet. this fellow was trying to pick me up, however, so i left after finding out he didn't want to talk about war. and i wasn't interested in hooking up. just talking. i liked beat kitchen very much and will probably go there multiple times a week as it's so close and i wants a job.
yesterday i went to a really depressing grocery store, then did some cleaning in my apt, smoked a lot, took a cold shower and generally did nothing all day.

today i've a plan. roscoe bike shop-done. bank-done. verizon-done(we will soon be enemies). food(wishbone-too many kids)-done. library visit and then looking for decent cemetaries to take pictures. i know, it's so typical. emo. art school. stupid. i doubt there is anything here to compare with boston cemetaries but it's worth a shot. graceland is closest and there's a huge one north a ways from here, straight up ravenswood (i think that's the name). bohemian one is near my sister's old college. a sunny day is much better for b&w pictures. i'd better just go.

tonight i dunno what's what. blue light or that giant place called schubbs? shubs? schnubs? whatever. i'm so horny.

bitch tits

alright. day one. i haven't a thing to do. i'm at the library. libraries are cool. they're quiet, they have books. they have toilet seats with urine on. they have computers. i do not have a computer. the internet on my phone is so-so.

last night i sleep-walked down belmont to potbelly which was extremely satisfying. haven't had it for a year. they played m jackson songs. then went to the bar for what turned out to be a single beer as i was dozing. faux pas guy was too excited to be at the l and l. a smoking popes tshirt, an alkaline trio hoodie and playing lawrence arms albums on the jukebox. come on dude. after he left the two female bartenders groaned. we get it, dude. it's like wrangling up all the members of your favorite band for photos after the show with forced smiles. dude, cool it. we get it. i get it, believe me. i like all those bands and have done my research too. don't be such a fucking nerd.

i live at western and belmont. my big (for me) bedroom is nice and empty with a lovely view of a brick wall and someone else's window. hopefully they like half-naked chicks doing shitty yoga and painting dead babies. i don't have a curtain. i don't even have a bed. i brought a giant nug in a pill bottle and two bottles of stella, but no bed. and toilet paper stolen from rest stops on 90.

i should find a job. this won't be easy.

baaahh

chicago, bitches. consider me moved in. muah.

nice lighter

halfway through my first week of funemployment. went to see the wolfman yesterday which was only good for a gothy bloody cloudy day escape. bad acting, jesus, but heads being lopped off and vunerable gypsies to fill the afternoon. then the dude and i went to some free symphony time at nec. it was some devil music, tame as it were, and after two hours we realized the story-telling part of the program still had probably another hour and i was dozing off. dozing off like my head falling down and then waking up with a start/snort. went home, shower duo time, on and on. i'm like somebody's single working mom after a microwaved dinner, passing out sitting up at seven pm. i fell asleep before the intermission at the magnetic fields show. i doze on the bus. i doze in the tub.

so today all there is to do is smoke a bowl half-naked and watch moulin rouge in my bed. it's raining. step two is to get a tuna melt and some ice cream.

shop

blah blah blah picture time

now that i've taken my coffee shit it's time for some blogging. i cringed inside with that term. blogging...guh. next up i'll be getting an iphone and a smartcar.

woke up this morning with sweaty palms and a potential anxiety attack. my last day of work was saturday and now i've a week with nothing to do. too much free time makes me anxious. the last thing i want to do is run around and spend money but sitting in my house all day makes me crazy. saturday i nabbed all the items from work that have been a part of my days for three years, including a giant fake pocket watch that runs backwards and a stuffed baby croc wearing a sombrero. things that have been a part of the warehouse since before i worked there.

some of my favorite memories from the place are the multiple pairs of pants that someone had shit in before donating, the urn a co-worker dumped out without knowing what it was, the blackface baby doll that sang in a man's voice that the truck guys ran over to attempt to kill, the cremated cat, the boxes and boxes of gay porn...i could go on and on. people will donate anything. ANYTHING.

two things i'm interested in pursuing while in chicago are boxing and bartending. not bartending such as this:

http://www.grapesandgrainsnyc.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/hot-bartender-w-drinks2.jpg

but shitty dive bar type stuff. and dive bars don't have college kids dancing in them. i love the bars in the small-town midwest that my old man goes to: small, dark, smelly, surly old blue-collar drunks silent inside. everyone kind of looks like this:

http://www.bloggingwv.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/rednecks.jpg

my first boyfriend once shot a pheasant out the passenger side of my car which we then cooked and ate. he frequently had deer carcasses in his garage. did i grow up a redneck? pretty much.

for some reason boxing really interests me. i have a lot of anxiety and tension and a temper problem. i don't think i could box against someone...maybe. but i'd love to learn how to beat the shit out of them. and if i'm ever hard up for cash i could try foxy boxing, if that stills exists.

did i mention i'm totally stoked to live with two dudes? expecting the toilet seat to always be up. i hope they like chicks who don't wear deodorant or bras.

shit son!

it's set. new crash pad: belmont and western/roscoe village. no, not under the bridge you fucker. living with two dudes right near the beat kitchen. goddammit is right.

turtleneck

last night was the first time i had an uncut. i mean, i think it was. i couldn't really see. but it felt different. to which my response was awesome.

i was also in true form when moments before my pants came off, when there's the understanding between both parties that they will, i said:

"Uhh..I gotta tell you something."

dude: "ok..."

me: "well, i don't know how to say this.....uh....i'm...not all...female"

which took a minute, all drawn out with a lot of sighing.

dude: ".....uh, ok."

then i busted out laughing. hysterically. and thus he realized i was joking. it was the height of my comedic career.

good times.

wanna rock well

i fucking love norman rockwell. he was so talented. the pre-1940's illustrations blow my fucking socks off. i had this treasured/degenerating book of his works that was large and heavy enough to kill a raging bull, it's life span was coming to a close (previous owner had a dog or big rats that ate a lot of it) so i ripped out whatever i could use and chucked the rest. rockwell has got to be the most famous illustrator in america, not famous for his person but most well-known for his work. it's everywhere. and that's so much more respectable than andy warhol or jackson pollack or...picasso. schmuck. sorry! dude had SKILLS and wasn't trying to be a celebrity or even have social status. untouchable in my mind. happy birthday.

two new dudes moved in the big room next to mine. not a couple? just friends sharing a room? not yet sure if they're sharing a bed. whatever, man. anything goes in this house. it's possible someone's coming to check out my room tomorrow night. gotta clean room and hide anything creepy. not like it matters too much what kind of a person i am as i won't be living there and said curious objects won't be there...but don't want someone to think i was doing devil-worshipping or practicing santeria (which is not devil-worshipping, and apparently the term 'santeria' is like a mocking slang thing. huh.) aaaanyway, creepy shit's gotta go, curious mattress stains covered up (oh, like you don't have those) and so on. a right respectable room it is! hope you like walls as dark as night!

take the room. it's cheap. the housemates are great. etc etc.

i myself am looking for a room. feels like half the ones on cl are logan square, which makes me think it's a come-and-go young adult livin' scene. fine. whatever. works for me. what else we got. there's two right near the fireside bowl. is that still open? do they still do shows? wasn't it kinda ghetto before? gentrified now? hmmm. i am not a picky woman. i like a lot of people around and knowing that i won't get raped. mice-ok. rats-i can deal, roaches-blehhhh. no furniture, no laundry, no hot water...ehh. i'll get a man who has hot water. basically even squalor like a bohemian attic (consumption?) or punk squat (rotten crotch? not mine...mine's clean as a whistle. talking about the living atmosphere here) i can deal with. in fact, things that are too modern make me uncomfortable IPHONE/POD/PAD/probably anything apple)

i am not a picky woman.

i like living with men. a bunch of them. who have no intention of getting with me. like i've said before-maybe not here-i have a boy-gang obsession- in that i want to be part of one. dirty mouth, dirty clothes, dirty living (sterling genitals), not trying to fuck me even if i don't wear much clothing at home. a big band of brothers. this is what i want. like fight club. is it possible? not really. not on that scale, i mean.

butt

Fuckin gangsta, kid

Ahh im so fucking set right now. Sitting in burger king watching people. Its the one in allston next to the silhouette-good people watchin spot. Pardon the typos. Got wads of cash in my bag from the show, eating this only slightly gross burger that tastes like fake smoke, theyre playing some sweet light rock and im hung over, haggard and buzzed from sharing my bed last night. Not even sex. Better than that. Got drunk with a friend of mine, watched my pregnant roommate smoke buds, then we were looking at my coin collection -laugh it up- and he made a move on me. I couldnt fucking believe it. Sometimes you never see it comin. I was in the bathroom cracking my knuckles and getting my game face on-like lets do this. Youve woken the beast, my friend- and then no sex. I didnt know what to do. It was like getting handed a scalpel in an er. What am i supposed to do with this? Im a tart. Thats what i do. aside from that im lost. It was great. end of the month im possibly gonna be living right near the belmont-clark intersection in chicago. Fuck dude. Im a runner. Cant ever settle. Ever.

ah

also, if my friend justin is correct, the show sold out in two days or so. that's really something... like bills in my hand.

justin was really kind to get me the show. we had sex a few times. it was what we needed at the time. now we're just friends. simple as that. i can't "hate" on him, as they say.

let me put my love into you

is this month over yet?

depending on how impatient i get i may just take off at the end of feb. those "up and gos" are poking me hard, digging in. two of my roommates were in chicago last week just for the shits of it, after a trip to kansas was botched. photos of them drinking jameson on some playground in the middle of the night made me jealous.

doing a medical research study next month. a specific diet one which involves free food and a 3-day hospital stay, though i get paid sick days at work. so it'll pay twice. i mean, most med studies pay hundreds. i'll have a nice chunk of change to move on.

maybe i'll get a nice boyfriend in chicago. one who likes gentle boning on a dirty mattress to Black Flag. a nice one who treats me like his best friend. that would be great.

yes, those are mine.

hot cakes

what's been going on? let's see. i don't celebrate holidays. dec. 24th i went to see avatar with the roommates. it was pretty entertaining. a few one-liners, white-messiah story line, and fourteen dollars for a 3-D movie? jesus. other than those things it was alright. new years i worked a half day and then had some kind of deep talk with jess, then just hung out with her around midnight after she came back really high from a party. the clock hit midnight and i hardly noticed as i was looking at a grey's anatomy and watching how to roll cigarettes. it was real cold but someone in the neighborhood started yelling from his house...from what sounded like the roof.

i hate january, it's the worst. weather's been alright. still biking regularly. starting to become apathetic in work and some friendships as i'm moving in two months. trying to get rid of stuff. when i moved to boston five years ago i came with maybe three suitcases? that was it. trying to leave the same way. ehhh...

speaking of getting rid of stuff...art show up in allston now. for two weeks. didn't really tell anyone because i'm far too modest. people who boast and talk about "art" like it's, uh, well you know what i mean. like they're trying to sound cultured. i hate that shit. usually they've average skill and try to get noticed by being hip as a person. that's bullshit. modesty is a virtue. patience too, which i don't have but am trying. i just want to draw and paint well. i don't want some shallow attention. didn't have an opening. even considered using a fake name. people like the stuff, it's selling fast. i want them to like it...so i get their money...i don't care if they like me or not. a lot of the stuff was made for people to buy. bikes and shit. sells fast. what i really like drawing are things like demons with double-headed dicks. that won't sell. take my stuff, give me your money. i want to be free...with financial support to be a street rat.
oh, i went to the ballet on the 24th. it was great. first time! really great. no one to go with. didn't care.

gay gay gay