I'm always falling over me

I woke up on Sunday morning and felt normal for the first time in months. I know there's a good chance I may never feel that again. I'm still processing that. I'm still processing a lot actually. So it goes.

Oh noes!

My future husband is trapped in Lebanon. /me cries.

In better news I think I'm finally getting paid. My check was sent out last week, or so I hear.

I'd only come here seeking me. It seems I came to leave.

It's interesting when you really start being honest with yourself. About who you are, about your fucking motives. About what drives you. I don't pretend to understand completely what I'm doing right now, but I know I'm not a good person. I've always thought that, I've always said it in a somewhat sarcastic manner, but it really is true.

It's sad when you start realizing the patterns you repeat. And that most people don't really know you. Though I know that's entirely my fault. I'm ridiculously guarded. Maybe I should change it. I'm not really sure. Actually, fuck yes I should. I just realized this while reading over this post. I'm going through this whole "stop fucking hiding things" deal right now. Including aspects of myself. It's all poison and stress and bullshit. It's not as though I'm embarassed or really ashamed of things I do or who I am. I'm not afraid to take responsibility or to feel repercussions. I think I told Raeven every "secret" I have yesterday. Man I am all kinds of "make no sense".

I had this thought earlier that it's a good thing that I haven't been driving much because I'd probably get overwhelming urges to drive into oncoming lanes. Turns out I was right. HA.

Ride the apocalypse!

I ended up sitting on a curb bawling and dry heaving at 5 in the morning. Then I disappeared like an inconsiderate asshole. Disconnect + recklessness = some motherfuckin' fun times.

I came home and went to sleep several hours later. I had a dream. Giant meteors were raining down. Before they hit the ground they would explode in giant showers of bright yellow-orange lava. I can still hear the sound. It was fucking loud. I was in my car and the explosions caused a giant tidal wave. It lifted my car up and everyone I was with died. The wave left me planted on the top of a skyscraper which was also a mountain. I woke up and decided that an hour was long enough to sleep. I never want to again.

Goddamn my symbolic dreams.

I think...

that I've slept for 24 hours out of the past 48. I'm so going into hibernation mode. I really really want my cave. I realized how little interest I have in anything around here. I mean, I know I was kind of over it all to a degree, but I became aware of how profound the feeling was last night. I guess that much is good to know.

I need to make some fucking decisions. I need to get a stupid job so I can actually have some money. Then I need to get the fuck out of here. School can wait, if it needs to. I guess I have to make some sort of decision about where I'm moving to, but that can wait for the time being.

My head isn't working right at the moment. I just woke up. I need to work this all out though.

Jesus Fuck.

How does it all of a sudden feel like it's all falling into place? How is "Beloved" the best song ever even though it's basically a progressive trance song? How are we both so much fucking cooler than we ever were together? Why did tonight kinda feel like a non-sexual cock tease? Le sigh.

Also, anger makes me evil. I'm glad I'm done with it. At least that kind. I'm also in a ridiculously good state of mind right now. Yay for that.

I swear I'm a fucking genius sometimes.

Also, I must say that the weekends where I'm not getting any pretty much blow.

I met a tiny Native psychic tonight. Swear.

Lies are for cool kids...

Garth and I are not cool to a ridiculous degree. UKK represent!

You know what's fun?

Yeah, me either. But I'm determined to find out. It's either this or build a permanent blanket cave.

Which, now that I think about it, would be Fucking Awesome.

Awwww.

So sad. Apparently I've set off some sort of bullshit drama reaction with one of my posts. Sorry, wasn't really aware people who I only know peripherally are for some reason reading my blog. But yeah....it's not like I was naming names. I fucking rant on here. I vent. I'm angry for no fucking reason sometimes. So I said some fucked up things. I also acknowledged that I was being childish and that logically I was in the wrong. So....Get.Over.It. I'm not trying to start some chain reaction bullshit either. I seriously don't care.

Photosmorgasbord

So I'm playing around with Picasa and its new web album thing so all new pictures can be found here, as well as a few older-but-on-the-newer-end
galleries.

I also made public a bunch of galleries that were formerly set to private on my yahoo account though most of them honestly aren't of much interest to anyone but those in the pictures. Ha.

Has it gotten old yet?

Cause it seriously has for me. I swear at this point I'm wary of waking up and making contact with the world because some other sort of bullshit is going to be brought to my attention. In fact, I would have liked to be able to live all day in the nice cocoon of the blanket cave today but the combination of people landscaping and the dogs barking at them since 7:30 this morning has kind of killed that.

Anyway, for someone who hates drama I sure seem to be chock full of it at this point. It's not my fault, I swear! Ha. Stupid insincere people bent on psuedo self-destruction will hopefully have something to answer for. I swear it never fucking ends. Valerie and I went to trivia last night and that stupid cunt was there. HA. I love how she's really done nothing terrible and logically I realize this but I still want to punch her in her stupid "sloppy-drunk/daddy-issues/i-wont-look-at-you-cause-i'm-a-giant-pink-v" face because she's somehow come to represent the dissolution of any sort of normalcy I was starting to have in my life and because I never liked her much to begin with. Also because she totally invaded my sacred ground of pub trivia, which is apparently one more thing I can't do anymore. Woooo. I know I'm being childish and I seriously couldn't fucking care less. I have no respect I'm really worried about losing....actually I have nothing in general I'm really worried about losing. Take that bitches!

Placebo's "Song to Say Goodbye" is kind of on repeat for me right now. Not that I want to be bitter, I've got enough of that naturally without piling extraneous other-human induced bitterness on top of it. The good thing about this, if there is one, is that it's making me semi-motivated only in the hopes that I will never have to see these people and deal with their bullshit again. Honestly, I know I'm a giant fuck-up and a general waste of space when it comes to everyday life but man, seeing it in other people when they actually have things going for them kinda kicks me in the ass. Too bad I need to restart my whole life. I'm nearly certain I'm done with linguistics. Unless I find somewhere with a program I actually like, which doesn't seem likely at this point. So yeah...this should be interesting.

Oh and hell yes, Saved by the Bell: the college years is on. Zach is throwing a rave in his dorm. Screech is "dealing" nitrous. So sweet.

I don't think I'll ever be rid of this sand...

I went to the beach more this weekend than I have in probably the last 3 years combined. Well, during the day anyway. LA beaches are kinda ghetto. Not that I'm terribly concerned.

I've had like an hour and a half of sleep, an hour of which was on the train this morning. Speaking of the train, here's something I learned: I am a giant fucking retarded vagina sometimes. I really need to start pushing my boundaries again.

Some other things I learned:

-Being around groups of people in LA will totally make you remember why you fucking hate that place. People dress up to go to "dive" bars for fuck's sake.

-I am never drinking SoCo again. It was an experiment. It failed. This time instead of becoming a raging cunt I just became a brat. Yay me.

-My insecurities are fucking retarded. Who even knew I had them? Regardless, I need to stop listening to them. They don't matter.

-The reason I come off as so sarcastic at all times is because I have a really hard time being actually sincere in a face-to-face situation. How sad am I?

There's some other stuff. I can barely keep my eyes open as is, however.

Ok I'm awake now. I realized that Monday was the ten year anniversary of Nancy's death. I wrote it on my calendar and everything but I wasn't here on the day so I forgot. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I guess it's good because it's not like I really need to be sadder than I already am. I hope someone remembered it for him though.

Also, I would be perfectly happy never, ever having to come back here again. Raeven is gone this week and leaving for Mexico in like two and a half weeks. Garrett is moving this weekend. Charles decided that having everything, his own life and friends wasn't good enough so he had to take what little remnants there were of mine as well. At this point the closest thing I have to some sort of friend/support-structure thing is my family. Yes, read that again. Now fucking shoot me.

It was...

the sun coming up over the mountain at nearly 6 am. My night was kind of really rad. I hope it was for everyone else.

I think I've had this kid thing all wrong...

Instead of hating them this whole time I really should have been making friends with them. They really are infinitely cooler than adults.

"If I only could make a deal with god..."

But I suppose that would actually require believing in one first...oh, practicalities.

Weekend = good. Sushi, liquor, tv, tide pools. I needed it. Yay for things that have absolutely no connection to my real life. Or the remnants of my real life because there really isn't all that much of a "real life" anymore except for stupid bullshit drama that I'd rather just blow off because I really can't be bothered to care anymore. Oh, running themes. Run-on sentences as well.

I found out tonight the one person I had left in fucking ghost-town is moving. It's totally rad for him and I'm happy for him, but I'm really sad for myself. Self-pity is fucking stupid. Beer is delicious though and also will hopefully make me do that night time thing. The one with the eyes being closed and the dreaming and all. I'm crossing my fingers as I type.

"If I could make a list, of my mistakes and regrets..."

I'd put your name on top and every line after it.

I don't know if that's just directed at one person at this point. I most certainly fucking mean it though. I am absolutely done trying to put myself second in line for people to try to make their lives easier. Not that it matters anyway cause I've no one left to put before myself at this point.

I keep doing stupider and stupider things. I cannot make myself care. Not about that, and not about any of this. I'm done with ghost town.

Last night was kind of nice. Disconnect is always good.

I seriously am a bad after school special...

all wrapped up in a fucking broken package.

I had a good weekend. I went to Magic Mountain. I rode Tetsu the super bestest roller coaster I've ever been on. I had other fun times as well. Then I missed my train which I think put me in a fucked up mood for reasons other than the actual missing of the train and that's pretty much set my course for the rest of the week it seems.

I've been to the doctor 3 times in one week. Tomorrow is going to make 4. I found out I have this tumor, but it's not cancerous or anything. What a metaphor for my life. Metaphors are fucking retarded. My body is also getting all kinds of fucked up due to my allergies and now my doctor is worried about my kidneys again so I got all of these tests and have to get another ultrasound and I have to save all my piss in a jug for 24 hours and then bring it to the lab. I feel like a fucking nutcase. I HAVE A GIANT JUG OF URINE IN MY FRIDGE.

So here's where the after school special comes in. Health problems make me reckless. Like right now I am entirely over life and any sort of motivation I once had for it. So I go to this show last night with a few people. I completely forget that I'm on medication (new allergy shit my doctor put me on that fucks me up like a mofo, painkillers for the stupid uterus that is still currently trying to kick its way out of my body) and that I've had a bunch of blood drawn and haven't eaten all day. I proceed to drink 4 whiskey and cokes. I then proceed to drink pretty much half a glass of vodka one of the people I was there with gave me cause she had to drive and didn't want to finish it.

I truly did feel fine for a while. I stopped drinking halfway through the show and I was good. Then the show ended and all of a sudden I could barely stand. Once we got to the car I decided to make myself puke so at least I wouldn't get any more drunk from the alcohol I'd yet to absorb. I semi-pass out in the backseat on the way back to my car in San Marcos. I mumble some incoherent things to the people up front. They drop me off at my car around 1 and I tell them I'm going to go pass out in my car for a while. Which I proceed to do in the Restaurant Row parking lot. Until 3 am. Oh but first I puke some more.

I'm such an idiot. I don't even care. I have no idea what I'm doing and I really don't care about that either. I need something more and I know this logically but I can't make myself do anything about it. Right now I'm just sick of doing everything alone, of facing all of this by myself. Going to the doctor for my tumor by myself and realizing "Wow I could very well be hearing that I'm going to die today and I'm going to have to hear it alone." Then I thought about how I would have to be the one to tell everyone and how I really don't want to do that so instead I just wouldn't tell anyone. HA.

The ridiculous thing is that this is what I wanted. I do get what I want a lot. Then I realize I really have no fucking clue what I want. Ever. I am seriously overrated.

Shoot to Kill...

Is it too terrible that I'm basically living on coffee, antacid, antihistamine, liquor, and painkillers? Those are all different nutrition groups, right?

Something in me hurts. It's all psychosomatic but that doesn't make it any better. Sometimes I just want to feel level without feeling dead inside. It's always one or the other with me, never a balance, always a study in extremes. This will all pass, but the past couple of nights have been so fucking hard. I've lost all will to vent anywhere but here, so just deal.

I think it's done....

I really don't know. It was a fun experiment at least.

Also, it kind of sucks that some of the detail is lost through taking the picture. Especially where the flash hits, which I unfortunately have to use due to the cave-like lighting situation in my room.

If it all makes sense, you're the furthest fucking gone...

As if it's not obvious, I've been listening to a ridiculous amount of Propagandhi. Not that the fact is very relevant to anything I'm about to write, except for that "Life at Disconnect" is my current anthem. Yay.

So surrealism. Last night Raeven and I went for a drive up the coast through Oceanside and around the harbor and such. We end up driving down this dark street and as I look out the window I start yelling and freaking out, "Oh my god, it's the motherfucking batmobile, turn around!" Seriously. So she turns around and we park and some person has a goddamn George Barris batmobile, as well as Herbie, on a trailer in front of his house. It was the most amazing, beautiful, other superlatives, random thing ever. I took pictures but my flash didn't really reach very far, so I've had to fuck with them a bit.






This weekend was such a cliched "summer is officially starting" weekend. I have some rather ridiculous pictures I'll put up at some point. Here's a tip though...



If you are at a giant house party, do not corner three drunk women and proceed to recite to them a 5 page "pirate poem" that your brother wrote in prison. This is the reaction you will get. I think I got up and walked away shortly after this picture was taken. He was probably on page 2 at that point.

P.S. I just remembered that I ended up scaring this guy away when he found us again at some point later in the night by yelling at him about fisting. Yeah, I'm rad.