terry

terry richardson rules. i don't give two craps about what anyone else thinks. i'd be proud to have him as an uncle or something. not as a dad. too creepy. i imagine myself as him in this photo, one still-shoed foot propped up on the desk, probably listening to black flag or dk, the best choice for...whatever. some stupid dirty punk on the floor and me hi-fiving one of my girlfriends.
the fellow i've been seeing most recently is a rapper. this is a first for me. you assume he's black? assume whatever you want. there's a first time for everything.
last night i hung out with an old friend of mine. he crashed his bike earlier yesterday, breaking off half his front teeth, bruising his face and possibly breaking his arm? it shook me up pretty bad. he doesn't wear a helmet. half the time i don't either and i've wiped out before but when it's other people i get all freaked out. imagine a skull like an eggshell and i get the willies.

good god

i'm house-sitting for a friend of mine and she has a computer. it's been a while since i've used a real sit-down computer. that didn't make any sense. what i mean is i don't have a computer of my own (moral reasons...like i don't want to become a fat nerdy slob) and changed my phone plan so i cannot use the web on it anymore. it's still there but will cost me an arm and a leg to browse. and that's just stupid. computer time is very limited now. i like it that way.
i'm sitting here and a geriatric cat on the table keeps reaching out and patting my face with her paw, then just dug her claw into my lip.
today i'm going to allston ("rock city" whooo...ew. bitch please. people who seriously use that term make me ill) to hang out with a friend of mine, to be blunt a dude that's probably totally in love with me (when someone has had you as their phone wallpaper it's a given), a fellow painter who i hang out with to make art. i don't mind allston in small doses, it's even mildly entertaining on the weekends with drunks everywhere (drunks under age 30) but i couldn't live there again. today, however, is a holiday so hopefully most of the college kids will be gone. allston is a straight ghost town on christmas. today, who knows. today is just like any other day for me. i, uh, don't do holidays. the only difference to relish on them is that a lot of the city is dead. the only folks around allston on winter holidays are the non-college people who live there...homeless people and orphans. it's great.

what's new. burned out at work, saving up (whatever that means) to move; moving means whittling down my stuff to three large bags and whatever i can layer and living like an ex-con for a while, heating up dollar burritos at seven eleven, brushing teeth in public bathrooms, disappearing. i can't wait for this. the up-and-gos have got me. they dig their hooks in deep and pull me along like some goth dork with daddy issues doing suspensions.
tonight i'll hang out with a friend of mine who i've known for a long time. we have a love/hate friendship that at intervals makes me want to smash his head with my fist and also get him to move around the country with me. maybe that's what being married is like. i've probably bitched about married people in here before.
ok gotta run.

Actor improvises to take down robbery suspect

Actor improvises to take down robbery suspect

this is one of my roommate's cousins. he's no stranger to our house. the funniest part of this news story is that they left out hilarious details such as-
after dan fought the man down to the ground he started to pistol-whip him with his own gun, which broke as it was a plastic pellet gun. the news isn't going to say that it was a plastic gun because they want to keep people afraid. also, the attempted robber is in intensive care. a little harsh beating.

i don't think i mentioned this last time but someone stole my roommate's car (a different one) and torched it in roxbury. it went up like a fireball and there's nothing left but a frame and charred insides. however, she was covered and is now getting a grease car and a transport bicycle. so it was actually a blessing? this is the married couple i live with (married at burning man) who are planning in the near future to move to western mass and live in their movable home on someone's farm. they rule.

hustle hustle

no time for this thing. i also recently changed my phone plan so i cannot surf the internet on it anymore, which will save me some money but is a tough habit to break. i don't have a computer at home so hanging out at work is the only comp time i get. and this is fine. i don't want to be pathetically addicted to the internet, zombied out in front of the screen, thinking talking to people online makes us real friends. it makes me cringe.
money money. i'm so in debt it's giving me acid reflux. it could always be worse.
one of my housemates has swine flu. i'm pretty much expecting to catch it. she lives across the hall and we use the same bathroom. it's a large house full o' people but there's no way i can avoid contact with ... the infected. yesterday was her birthday and i felt bad that she's quarantined in her room. all the hand-washing in the world isn't going to help me. my immune system is for shit in the winter anyways.
one of my other housemates continues to amaze me with her diy hippie stuff. she made almond milk. like has raw almonds in bulk, soaked some until soft, blended them to make a liquid and then squeezed the liquid through hemp cloth. because she doesn't want to drink the packaged stuff, i imagine. it's amazing. our kitchen is a lab of random liquids and fungi and homemade dairy products from raw milk. i'm unsure about raw milk. she's on a totally raw diet. i cannot even steam squash correctly. i can't even make rice that isn't instant, the easy kind. i am domestically disabled.
a night this week...around midnight i suppose i saw the same blind fellow that had such an effect on me a few weeks ago. this time he was on the 39, going to the same area of huntington and south huntington. you know, pushcart of plastic-bagged possessions, massive b.o., the usual. when the bus stopped the driver actually helped him off the bus and cross the street. i wonder if this guy is newly blind. it made me think of the book "american psycho" where patrick bateman blinds the homeless guy. i think that book is fucking brutal and the movie is pussy.
uhh anyway, this fellow fascinates me. he seems so scared of life and just trusts people because it's not like he has a choice.

i guess i don't really have anything to write about. i watched a middle eastern guy and an asian chick have sex like two feet in front of me recently. THAT was a first. i watched. then i went home. that was it. i myself am a robot that shuts down and locks up. no one gets in, nothing real comes out. it's the only way i can protect myself these days.
also, someone was stabbed in the heart and died saturday night like a half block from me. shit knocks you upside the head.

finally

i'm moving to chicago early next year. fuck you, i'm moving, fuck yes.

koko sad

just playin'. koko loves cats.
uhhh what's new. let's see. party at my place last weekend went fine. i wore a duct tape vest for part of it. i also hung out in my room with some co-workers while one of them tattooed little lines on me. he then left some supplies there and i, sloppy drunk, experimented with them. i wouldn't say that was a mistake but i sure as shit won't be practicing tattooing under the influence anymore.

every now and then i get all worked up and am like "fuck it! i'm fulfilling my destiny of moving to chicago. next spring/summer/fall!!" and then it never happens. start dating someone new, nervous breakdown, job raise, whatever. shit happens. this week it struck me again. i've never been unhappy there. i can navigate solo. and even if i'm just pathetically milking the bliss of past memories in the city that will end quick when i settle there...that's alright.
i can handle that. i wish my sister would move back there. i wish ragstock was still gross vintage (it's changed. that goes for minneapolis too. i don't get it. at least the alley still smells like rotting garbage and piss). i wish i could have jamba juice and potbelly whenever i wanted. i wish i could strut up and down broadway with my skin burning from fresh ink and a big goofy drunk smile on my face every night. i wish my ex didn't hate me so we could go to golden nugget and then drink 40s (they were probably 20s) in an alley under the full moon. maybe those days are dead.
maybe i'm dilusional. (sp?)
maybe i'll miss blue bloods and goofy accents and old streets the minute i leave boston. there's plenty of irish in chicago. i don't know. i've been here five years. i need a change. i've gotta keep running. people around me keep dyin and moving away and i've gotta skip town. i can't settle. i can't get into something heavy here or get knocked up and then just stay. gotta go, go, go.
the infamous case of the "up and gos"

some typoos

i'm just exhausted.

since the last dude i was seeing ended it (and with good cause, probably) i've been running around like a crazy person doing all sorts of pointless things to keep myself busy. i think it snapped my last thread of hope for dating. now i am trying to pack in all types of things that i wanted to do before...or things that i just randomly came up with to fill the space so i'm not jaded and sad in my room. movies, painting in my house, trying to cook (i cannot make anything), parties (not really), working, some drawing, some reading, some casual boning, volunteering for medical studies.

a study i'm going to be doing is taking maca root to see if it helps my libido when it comes to anti-depressants. since i probably don't have a problem now it might turn me into a crazy nympho. i've accepted this. gladly.

another one is a dental study with vitamin d where i can't brush my teeth for a month. this should be a challenge since i'm obsessed with my teeth (and other people's) and will have to avoid sugar and shit. will it break me? maybe. do i need four hundred bucks? i guess.

last night/this morning i was waiting for the 39 on the corner of huntington and south huntington around one am watching a possibly homeless guy (giant cart o' garbage) feel his blind way with a cane around someone's trash which was blocking the sidewalk. this was a ways away otherwise i'd jump to help him. and he was shouting something, possibly "help"...now that i think about it i could've walked over there...anyway, it wasn't too cold but the fact that he had nowhere to go or wasn't getting there fast because he was a hesitant blind man made me feel shitty that i was about to go home and take a long, self-indulgent shower. this dude starts yelling out the window for him to shut the fuck up, then realizes that he's not just some drunk asshole and comes out of the apt complex in his pajamas to talk to him and lead him across the street to the pizza place, buys him food and then my bus came.
this blew my mind. maybe the guy was newly blind. maybe he was just nuts. but he couldn't get across the street and who was gonna help him at one am? i imagined him giving up trying to get anywhere and huddling behind the garbage pile, trying to stay warm.
but i can't assume that anyone who looks crazy/homeless can't help themselves. that seems to be a common misconception.
i have to go to work. blah blah blah