It's almost 4:30am.

Yet another radio show.

I've been doing them daily since Saturday. Saturday six to nine, sunday twenty-one til twenty-two, monday nine til noon, tuesday three til six. I'm so fucking tired. I've been moving, too. And working. And going to shows. Hanging out with friends. Driving. I'm tired.

I have to do more to be considered for a show next semester, I guess. Especially since I'm not a student anymore.

Awwwwkward.

UNC still doesn't recognize that.

I'm not a student anymore. I can't promise that I'm going to return their money if they give it to me. The least they can do is just mind my papers. FUCKERS!

I know I will return it to them. That saddens me. Thievery is not my forte. All the same, i'm tired of putting up with disrespect.

Twenty til Five in the AM!!! ONE MORE HOUR AND TWENTY MINUTES! Fuck yessssssssss. Then it's night night, starbright

I like this format. I just play rotation. Any rotation I want. Well. Sort of. I'm keeping the High together and all. I feel it's probably pretty necessary to do that.

God. This song sucks so hard. SO FUCKING...soft. And slow. Like someone who thinks they're doin it right, but they SO AREN'T. And you don't have the heart to tell them, but you can't feel it...

Met some crazy Dutch boys today with Hannah. It was...fun. They're...weird. One of them is absolutely GORGEOUS. His facial structure, the disdain in his eyes, the glowering. Rawr. He's a journalist. A model. A musician. Fuck, I'd be disdainful, too.

One of the others was very shy. He said very, very little. He had just gotten a haircut. It was good, but very...trendy. He had a smarmy mustache that turned him into skeez. It was pretty gross. Like...really. but his music isn't that bad. I'm playing his cd now at the station. The whole album. That's what I'm doing. All of it. I don't want to do anything else. He's not like, OMG GREAT! But he plays some wicked guitar. The voices are pretty...lame. But if he didn't have the voices I guess the music would get too repetitive.

The last was loud, obnoxious, extremely...friendly? Not like "you're molesting me" friendly, but...just. Very. Outgoing, I guess. Very, very vivacious. Anyway, he had the skinny jeans, the chunky glasses, the quasi-beard. Not unattractive, but I mean - neither this guy or Bram could hold a candle to the blonde beauty that was extreme eye candy in the utmost. I dunno. He tried too hard. I just don't get it.

But yeah. I think I'm gonna hit their show tomorrow night. 9:30. It'll be...interesting. At the VERY least. Now bram's track is overlayed with something that sounds like American Indian chanting. Rawr?

I'm so tired. I'm gonna rest for a little bit. It's a quarter after. I should be fine...

I are at: WXYC I are listening to: Bram Stadhouders - Halt

Most of my stuff is packed up in boxes. It's messy in here. Cluttered. It shouldn't be, but it is. I still have a bunch of art to throw in boxes. I'm tired, but i think it's just cuz I want it all to be over with.

I move most of my shit in tomorrow. It's exciting. I'll be living on my own!

I'm tired of moving!

No seriously. I am. I hate having to come up with how to decorate, dealing with not having furniture, putting stuff away. The depressing emptiness.

I just called to get my electricity hooked up. And just bought renters insurance. 6 bucks a month because I own NOTHING of value (well, monetary value). Woot? And I even embellished the truth to make it seem like I owned things.

I'll put up pictures when I'm in. It'll be fun. And exciting. I'm going to have to buy a vacuum cleaner. :(

Life is GREAT!

No, I'm serious. I am SO HAPPY!

Tomorrow I'm done with my undergrad career. HIYAAAAAAAA! *jumpkick to the hyped-up higher education FACE!* And Sunday I walk. LAST GRADUATION!!! (For a while.) (Hopefully forever?) (Oh, you dreamer, you.)

Annnnnd - My pottery is actually SOMETHING, now. You know what I mean? It is fun, it looks good, and Nam said I can go back next semester so long as I buy my own clay and show up between 5 & 8 and work on a lot of pieces at home - i can TOTALLY KEEP DOING IT!!! *pees herself with excitement*

Huru is silly. Ridiculous. Lovely. I loves him. It's silly. Ridiculous. Lovely. Rawr!

It's so bizarre what stress will do to me. To my brain. But I got away from a lot of it and things are...so much better. So much.

I'll be living alone by the end of the month in a place all my own! WOOT! I will have furniture, everything will be grand. You don't understand. I feel so liberated.

The only thing missing is another job, but I can do it. I will find one. I'll be successful and I'm totally jiving on the good vibes, knaaamean?

:D

And my mom is coming, and so is Bruce! Annnnd - yeah. It's Christmas soon. I like Christmas food. I'm going to make an apple pie. WOOT!

MmmmmHmmmmmSuuuugah.

I'm not gonna lie. I want to be curled up in a warm place either alone or with a warm boy body talking or listening or maybe both.

Instead i'm here. Wasting time. It's been an hour and I haven't even written a sentence. I don't know what to say. "He was a pompous fuckhead who went psychopath and killed shittons of people, rolled with a psycho bitch, and basically pulled a scared little naked mole rat when the armies came a-marchin full o' people pissed as shit at his barbaric antics." Was he crazy? Maybe. Is that my argument? Yeah. Do I care? Nope! Just cuz three thousand years ago a man went nuts and was overthrown in a China that was about an 1/8 of the size of today's China doesn't really mean that he changed the world. Maybe he did. If he hadn't done what he did slavery could have kept on going in China for a couple hundred more years. Maybe Chinese torture the way we think of it today wouldn't exist. Perhaps China's obsession with magic, fortunetelling and human sacrifice would be stronger now. Or maybe it would have met its doom upon the coming of the next dynasty.

Would the world be different if the Shang stayed in power for a few hundred more years? If the Zhou dynasty never came around would everything have fallen apart into a bureaucratic mess and pulled the Spring and Autumn period into existence?

Bitch, I dunno! They'd have half as many chengyu, though. Of that I'm relatively sure.

You ever think about how incredible your hands are? I mean, here I am, typing. I know the keys so well that I don't even really have to think about where my fingers are going. They know just when to hit the shift key to make something capital or reach a new punctuation mark. They know when to hit space and all i'm thinking about is the words. It's probably the greatest thing about my hands. I know what I want them to do and they do it. "Make this curve smoother." "Blur this." "Put this in my mouth." "Touch this." So many little muscles in these fingers. So many little nuances of movement to create big effects. I'm just stymied.

Okay. I'm just gonna do this. It'll be shit, but I'ma do it. If I don't, I can't graduate. I need this class for my major. Without this class, without this PAPER I'm screwed. LITERALLY. The University will give me a new orifice and fuck it until I'm nothing but a mushy pile of papers and sadness.

And then I'll write that other paper. I wish I had audited that class. Fucking Engrish.

I are at: Open Eye I are feeling working I are listening to: 我不能悲伤的坐在你身旁 - 小左诅咒 I said # cuddles, engrish, orifice fucking, shang dynasty

It's...annoying. Right now I have to go home and do an art project. I don't want to go home. I have to figure out how to make a statement about my private traps. I thought I would use my journals, as they're full of my analyzing myself and saying "you're stupid!" and then doing the same thing over again with another entry that says "you're stupid!"

I thought I'd take pictures of myself dressed up in different ways, to bring out the different facets of things I feel I ought to be, but can never achieve because it's just not...me. Wanting to rise up to people's stupidly high standards of who they think I am - but falling again because I just don't know what they're saying.

But what ARE the things I fall into? The things I write about over and over and over and over?

1: I want to be beautiful.

2: I want to be loved, but I don't know what exactly that means.

3: I want to be as smart and talented as everyone tells me I am.

4: I want to love me...

That's about it, right? That can't be too hard.

For beautiful I can just play dress up. Put on my corset to show how I should be thinner. Put on my Grace-wig, make up my face and layer my skirts so it's more victorian. Mebbe if I paint myself white for this one. White is purity, right? But also death. I like that.

Loved...I should paint myself gold? I want to be idolized by someone. Want to be desired, wanted, glorified. Yeah. Gold would work.

Smart. Talented. I don't know. Glasses, I guess. Brush my hair, maybe. Just dress the part, I guess. I can't really figure out what color "smart and talented" would be.

But self-love? That one is definitely blue. Definitely. Blue.

I still have to finish my powerpoint on 商纣王. I know he's supposed to be the worst emperor in Chinese history, but something serious has to be wrong with his 脑子. that's what my paper is going to suggest. Actually,I don't know if I should go for a fox fairy enchantment tale or maybe a mental illness. He was STUPID smart, abolished slavery, was a brilliant strategist and conquered new lands for 商朝, but then he met That Woman (妲己） who suffered from depression and would only smile in the case of watching extremely disturbing stuff. He came up with insanely evil ways to torture people and he and his woman would sit there feasting and watching them die slow deaths. He filled a small pond with wine and had a tree in the middle of the pond with meat hanging off the branches so when he and his guests were thirsty they could drink the wine, and when hungry eat the meat. He broke his country by over-taxation and slaughtered his court officials and nobles by the hundreds...I mean, mental illness isn't too far-fetched.In fact, with that kind of nonsense it's pretty much a guarantee that that's what was wrong.

I dunno how to go about this, know what I mean? I mean, there are plenty of articles about what he's done, what he accomplished early in life, etc, etc, etc. But only one that I found that is like "dude, fucker had schizophrenia. Duh." And it's stupid short...But i'll go for it anyway.

I have to pee. I have to eat. I have to dig through journals and feel even more inadequate than I do in general. I need to go play dress up and take embarrassing pictures of myself. OH! But I can doctor them up...that is PART of the ish, ain't it? Hahahahaha! I love art.

I are at: Looking Glass I are feeling stressed I are listening to: 张国荣 - 左右手 I said # art, food, journals, pee, 商纣王， overdeveloped sense of inadequacy

When I type I only ever want to type things that are amusing, random, less conversation and more visual representation of the muddledness of my mind.

I just applied for two jobs.

I did not do any homework during that time.

Are final papers homework or the homestretch?

I don't care anymore. I wish I could have put this feeling off for two more weeks.

I never want to go home. I feel unwelcome there. It's not personal, and I understand her reasoning, but one month, and actually less than that because I just don't have the resources to be able to do everything I have to do to graduate AND find a job, a place, and pack all my shit up and get out...It makes me blue. And not just cuz I'm cold.

I'm going to live in a place of my own.

I have to look into renters insurance. :( With USAA I'll be paying less than $10 a month. I have nothing of value.

My mom said she'll cosign. That makes me so happy. I know I can do it on my own. And I love her for being there for me. What is it like to be a mother and be able to say "YES! I WILL HELP YOU!" Without even stopping to think?

I will have enough money. I will find another job. I will be happy and my bills will be all my own, my dishes will be all my own. My trash, my mess - ALL MINE!!! I'm so EXCITED!!!! Not another roommate. I need this. I want this. I'll make a space that I WANT to be in. I'll be excited to go home. People will come over and laugh at my lack of stuff and we'll play with my art toys. I'll get mismatched furniture and have bright splotches of color and walls full of maps and bookcases and a place to do art. It'll be awwwwweeeesome! Do you understand my excitement? I haven't wanted to go home since I lived AT home with my family, and only because I had no friends. And even then I would work all the time so that I wouldn't have to be at home. I'm going to HAVE a home. Do you know what that means to me? And Huru can come over! :D

I haven't told him yet. I want to work up to it in an awesomely dramatic way, so that he looks at me with a mixture of fear and apprehension, and then I'll break it to him, he'll roll his eyes and go, "DUH, Pheebs. Geez. I'm not STOOOPID." I'll giggle.

I'm cold. When will it be summer again?

I are at: the 'Bou I are feeling has to peeeeeeee I are listening to: Bela Fleck & the Flecktones I said # apartment, gas, jobs, random

Been giggly...He notices.  But he's...a boy.
So he lets me. Thinks it's...cute.
He's in deep. Hope he doesn't want out.
He's finally made it. My questions
are almost all gone.

Add in another magic friend
and the jump in my step
makes sense.
Another across the room
"We WILL be Friends."
and now we are.
She's fantastic. She says,
"I'm so excited that we're
friends, now."
and I think, "me too!"
I was actually worried
maybe i'm too...
too.

My mother struck the
fear of circles
into my heart.
I love her with every
strand of being.
And yet...I fear
to become
her would be...
not what i want.
she is so...
white, middle
class, full of
expectations,
fears what
she perceives as
mediocre,
what i believe
is real. i'm
trying to move
past the limitations
of my skin
my gender
my fear
my hope
their goals
my lack of
motivation.

I'll get there.
but right now
here is
very, very
very
good.
except for
my
insane
leth
ar
gy
y
y
.
.
.
z
z
z
z
z
z
z
z

I are at: Flooooooor(ed) I are feeling cold I are listening to: Tong Ao - Zuotian Wo 15 Sui I said # :) :) :)

Coffee is the MIRACLE CURE of my LIFE.

I had an AWESOME weekend. Friday I had lunch with Megan, Diana, Robin and Megan's Fiancee, Matt, followed by a road trip to Mount Airy (aka: Mayberry from the Andy Griffith Show). Megan and I went to the Mount Airy Fall Leaves Festival, which was crazy. Fun. There are so many weird looking people in the world. It was awesome. I was like "MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" I met some of her crazy Mount Airy friends, we ate festival food (oh, my tummy) and hung out with her mom and her mom's crazy friend.

It was...A really great time. I really feel like I know Megan better. She's a rather complex character, with her complexities made more complex by the fact that she's aware of them. Well, aware of some of them. What a funny duck. The only thing I didn't like about the weekend was her saying "I don't really understand why you hang out with me..." because, first off - She's the one that pretty much hunted ME down to be her friend. After all that work and the viciousness of my character doesn't that mean she ought to at least sow the "benefits?" And secondly - I hate when people say stuff like that. It makes me really confused. I'm like "Wait, is this code for 'I don't really think we ought to hang out anymore because you're just a little too weird' or 'I think you're a stuck-up bitch who thinks she's too good for everyone else and I'm not sure if I should feel "privileged" by your company or what'...?" It makes me feel like one of those "small people" your mom talks about after you've been shunned at school and she's trying to make you feel better. I also didn't like the racial-ness of the trip. There are very few African Americans in Mount Airy, and Wendy's friend was a little...er...old fashioned in her speech. Granted, she's old as beans, but it still made me feel really uncomfortable. And my little comment about the reason their cat is lazy is cuz he's a black cat. They were like "you racist?" and I'm like "yeah, that didn't come out right..." All I meant was that I've never met a neurotic black cat. I think the purebreds and Calicos are pretty fucked up - but that's only because of inbreeding. It could also be because he's a neutered male, and everyone knows Eunuchs are only good for manipulating emperors and singing in Church Choirs. They don't pee on things. They don't fight as much. They don't get acne or even develop completely. They die early unless they're on hormone therapy.

The point of this is - I'm allergic to cats and really allergic to dogs. They have three cats and a dog. My allergies went NUTS! And now...now I'm sucking down coffee at a horrifying rate. The world is slowing down around me, and I'm only doing it so that I can breathe. Breathe and stay conscious, because - and this is kind of a leap - I think the attack on my system caused by the allergies opened the gate for the illness that had plagued Huru and now my roommate to enter and usurp my healthy (if ill-balanced) system. Hopefully it's just allergies. I'm pretty sure it is, but I'm not around fuzzies anymore and I'm STILL suffering. Except for right now. Three cups of coffee later and a buzzing between my ears.

Does Vitas have his balls? Does anyone know for sure? 

I'm getting loopy. Like...really. Work and then panicking to do my art projects today is going to SSSUUUUCK!! I hope someone can cover for me at the radio station tomorrow....

I'm so cold. Yes, I know, seasons change, the world flops shakily on it's erratic orbit around the sun, about the same time every year the weather at this latitude goes from warm to cold to warm again - but I'm so tired of excuses. When is the world going to realize that every time the temperature drops it puts me out in a bad way?

The boy has been sick. Against all common sense I spent the weekend hanging out watching movies and patronizing him for being ill while cuddling and smothering him with kisses. I told him I'm impervious to illness, I still believe I am...but I'm getting the sniffles after my bike ride this morning in freezing rain. My bones are starting to ache with cold from the a/c (WHYYY????) and the guy from my art class just walked into the cafe wearing a UNC shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Seriously. First off, that's a horrible fashion faux-pas unless you live in some back-water podunk world of hicks and southern weirdos. And secondly - I'm bundled up as much as I possibly can be - warm socks, tights, leg warmers, sweater, windbreaker, etc, and he's just like "mmm, tshirt and jeans. yesss - it's still a little warm, but I'm getting down to a comfortable temp."

I'm moving to fuckin Bermuda.

Well...only if I can get a job there that involves driving around in a golf-cart and eating lots of popsicles.

My freezer is full of popsicles. I can't eat them because it's too cold. Talk about the saddest story ever written. Even though it's only two sentences (two sentence fragments, really) it still makes me cry a little. Touches me deeply, evokes strong emotion, really - I don't know if I'll ever be happy again.

Speaking of happy - my darling friend, let's call her Father (like in the Avengers! Except she isn't blind) is not happy. Surprise, surprise, she won't tell my WHY she's not happy, only that her world is crashing in on her and she can barely get out of bed in the morning because she's too stressed and doesn't want to face another day. I'm lying. She didn't say that last bit. She did say the thing about the collapsing of her world, though. :( Makes me sad. I offered to talk. Just because it makes ME feel better to offer. I know she won't take me up on it. "When you're down like that, Pheebs, you can call me. You can talk to me about it." She says. Well, you know what Me--Father - like Lindsey Lohan, it goes both ways! I'm pouting. I want her to be like "AHH! PHEBE! I'm having a bad day! Can we kvetch??? PLEASE???" And I'll be like "Damn straight! Lets get some cake and start bitching!" And even if she doesn't really say anything super deep, or really even mention what's really bothering her I want her to know that there's someone there who wants to help. Who's there, who she can trust, and who will listen if she needs it. We all need people like that. I guess it's pretty selfish of me to want to be that for her, especially considering how much trust is required for that kind of a friendship, but still...I do care.

Maybe it's just that as I get older people are less trusting. It used to be that I was everyone's confidante - but now...it seems like only friends I've had for a long time confide in me. And sometimes not even them.

I haven't even started my homework. I'm kind of too cold. But I have to work tonight so it's not like I've got a whole lot of time before tomorrow to get it done. AHHH! I have to pee.

I are at: Caribou I are feeling cold I are listening to: One Night in Bangkog - Vinylshakerz I said # emo, my big fat bladder, urine, weather

So, I'm sitting here - well, laying really - listening to mash-ups of popular music from the 90s, 80s, 00s， whenever, and I'm thinking about how incredibly awkward I am. Kind of like these songs are awkward. Well, not all of them. Most of them are, though. Like most of my interactions with people.

Most notably was my slip-up last week that STILL haunts me. I don't usually hold on to these things very long, but shit I fucked up bad.

So, here I am - Ms. PC (With strangers, anyway.) and I'm tired. I'm annoyed. I want to be anywhere but a work. People are ignoring me watching some stupid shit we have on the tv and not paying attention to the fact that I'm standing there glaring at them trying to make their heads explode. "Ｉ. CAN. HELP. WHOEVER. IS. NEXT!" I say it slow so they can understand. Fuckers. Dimwitted, stupid ass mother fuckers. The next guy in line sees me and limps up. "Hey, gimp style!" I say, half-annoyed, half-hoping he's got some "I fell off my bike" story. Second glance? No cast. He's got a degenerative disease.

Shit.

"Dude, I'm sorry. I...don't know why I said that."

"It's okay," he says, "it's refreshing."

REFRESHING? What hell does that mean? How is someone pointing out the obvious in the MOST DISRESPECTFUL WAY POSSIBLE refreshing?

I spent the rest of the transaction feeling about half an inch tall and he and his girlfriend just kinda didn't give it any mind. Did their thing, walked slowly away - him leaning heavily on his cane. I watch them leave. I feel like shit. A week later I wish they'd just come back so that I can "friendly away" the lingering guilt.

I see him so rarely that the difference between then and now is startling. He's deteriorating at a scary rate. He's such a handsome guy, beautifully sweet, and the last time I saw him he was using a cane, but he wasn't having so much difficulty. It's got to be terrifying.

And I made fun of him. Woot. One for the home team.

Maybe I can use that as an excuse for why I'm becoming so withdrawn and moody. Or maybe that's just the effects of the change of seasons. I've been stuck in my head for days. And days. And days. I'm getting tired of myself. I really just wanna...I dunno. Play. Maybe that's what I'll do. I'm gonna go to the playground and play for a while.

Anyway. Tomorrow is MidAutumn Festival. Maybe I'll get some booty. Or maybe I'll just get fat off of mooncake. Hope the you in China are planning on having a lot of fun!

I are listening to: Galvanize the Empire - Chemical Brothers Vs. John Williams I said # gimps, mash-ups, mooncakes

It's not “我不害怕， 我很害怕” its ”我不害怕， 我很爱他“ I like thinking it's the other one more, though. Something about saying you're not afraid, then admitting you are is more powerful than saying you're not afraid, you love so-and-so. But the song is amazingly gorgeous. 王菲 is essentially China's Bjork. I mean, the song is just visually stunning. (I had to look it up to figure it out, but it is very, very, very delicious.) The bit about the white hair...rawr.

Work has been. Less than rewarding.

School has been. Tedious, at best.

Life has been. A succession of milestones that, once reached, make me realize I still have many more to go.

It's been raining for the last week.

I'm feeling a little "weathered-out."

I've been listening to 左小祖咒 incessantly. I can't stop. I desperately want to know what he's saying, but I can't make out the words. I'm feeling so frustrated with Chinese. I feel like I'm running up a hill and not going anywhere.

I want to argue. I want to have a fight. I want to get so mad I cry and swear I'll never talk to someone again. I want to want to spit and kick things. I want to angrily throw something and act like a spoiled child. I want to break out. Make life hard. Piss on something precious.

I'm not angry. But I think it would be fun. It'd be different than being tired. Being unmotivated. Being frustrated. Being bored.

It's that time of year.

Halloween candy is out and everytime I go to the store I stop and look at it. "Hmm, maybe I should get some." My smarter side doesn't always jump in to my rescue. I bought candy corn. It was a mistake. It always is.

I'm proud of myself. I'm not really, but if I don't tell myself that sometimes I start to feel fat and useless, and then I really AM a pain in the ass to have around. It's like being married, only it's one person. I think about what I have to do to keep myself tolerable for me, and I wonder if I need to be doing that with other relationships as well. Soothe them when they get stupid, hug them when they get that lost look, get them drunk when they're up and give them backrubs and cartoons when they're down. It's different with me, because I know EXACTLY what I need to do to deal with myself. Or, if I don't know, then I sit and ruminate about it until I do know. It's slick and easy. But real people - I'm not in their heads. As empathetic as I try to make myself I can only get so close before it's just like "oh..your skull is there. You're not gonna let me in further, are you?" Although that kind of connection with someone would probably be pretty scary. I dunno.

Anyway. I'm babbling. I'm either gonna start on my homework (EARLY!) or I'm going to take a nap (PROBABLY!), or just go for a walk, return some keys, and find a warm place to read.

想你D. 我从下个春天没写在这个blog里面因为不要有的人看我自己的想以，自己的生活。 但我怕如果我们失散了后来可消失于记忆。 明白了没有？认为我很笨吗？　外面还在下雨。。。脑子很累。　心很重。　

I are feeling bored I are listening to: 征服 - 左小祖咒 I said # boredom, derek, halloween, 左小祖咒, 王菲

This song...maybe called 彼岸花, the next called 征服 by 左小祖咒 fill me with a kind of delirious nostalgia. The taste, the look, the smell of China. Beijing. Mostly Beijing, but it even brings back the nights in Xiamen. A kind of innocence, an overwhelming desire to understand, a feeling of loneliness, emptiness, wonder.

How does music do that?

Maybe it's just my brain. Maybe it's the words.

I'm tired. Oh so tired. My battery will die soon. I'm waking up early again. I'm riding the bus, drinking my coffee - too much coffee - having my cereal, finishing my reading and spending the rest of the day tucked away inside my head. Then music at the Reservoir after a nap? I hope so. Maybe Hannah will come out. It will be fun.

My tongue still stings from when it burnt it. Every time I burnt it. Today.

I like the idea of the Artists Book. I'm going to make one. Make one with the erotic pictures. With my own pictures. With my scribbles and drawings. They'll be bound together with my shoddy prose scribbled over them. People will look at it and decide I must be troubled, my past dark and terrible, my mind a horrible warped thing - barely human. Because of this my work will become recognized. I'll hide, afraid they'll find the truth - that I'm a rather well-adjusted human being with a happy childhood and probably fewer neuroses than the next person. They'll say I'm anti-social, agoraphobic, no one has seen me in years. No one will even know what I look like. I'll be having tea parties in my mother's kitchen breaking old wine bottles to use as art fodder; laughing about the antics of puppies and teaching my nieces and nephews how to whistle. The meaningless pictures and vulgar prose will travel around the world, being handled only by thin men and women with razor-sharp cheek bones and white gloves, it will become it's own creature - and I will die knowing I have brought something into this world that is misunderstood and pretentious and I'll wink at my mom and laugh. Eternal adolescence of a book.

8:30 am.

I'm sitting in a dark pocket of the universe known only as "WXYC."

I'm...tired. I got home at 2-something. "Brush your teeth and go to bed," he said. I did, and lay there warm and comfortable with the soft sounds of his cartoon playing in the next room. I remembered how I had woken up alone Saturday morning. "You were sleeping so well, I didn't want to ruin that for you. But why did you set your alarm for 8:30?" Looking at me with those enormous brown eyes. Damn. Impossible to stay hurt - but waking up alone in his house is not my idea of a good night sleep. If I'm there I'm resigned to sleeping poorly. Short story long, I got up and got dressed and walked into the living room. "Ehh?" "Going home. It'll be easier to get up in the morning." He walked me halfway. "Call me when you get there." Get home? Suuuuure. If that's what you waaaaaant. I wanted to snog his face off. I didn't. It's a pretty face, and that would have been a shame.

Seriously, though.

8:44 am.

Chinese test tomorrow at 11am. Panicked? Yes. I can't remember how to write most Characters.

Still tired. Drunken party times Saturday night. E slept on my floor, I always wonder if he knows about why I know him so well..."We're like...family," E slurred at the crew. Family. Fucked up family, if that's so. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had fallen in love with him. Why is it that people I know well because of previous carnal relationships of carnal relationships that never came to fruition say things like, "She's like a sister to me." Or, "Dude, we're like family." Yeah, it does bother me. Like they're trying to hide something...does it really matter? Sex doesn't equal love.

9:05 am

Wooo - note to self - Dan Melchior will SMACK YOU IN THE FACE! And not the good kind of slap that wakes you up and makes you feel refreshed and aware. No, no, no. It's a smack in the face with a drill that's going while some stupid kid is beating the shit out of a metal trashcan. Owww.

Less than an hour.  Woot? Nap? Not now, but you know...when I get somewhere where I can nap. Maybe I'll hit Davis. First floor. In the windows. This song blows. Ughhh. I just can't get it this hour.

S'okay. Timber Timbre to the rescue! This guy gets me hard so quick...Rawr.

I remember when I used to make every radio show a desperate attempt to let him know how I felt. Boys are so damned dense. Of course, we've been doing what we've been doing for like...a couple months now. Annnd...I still haven't really *told* him how I felt. This is a strange experiment in actions vs. words. It's harder for me to take things seriously without words. But at the same time, for a relationship built solely on action I've been insanely faithful bordering on doting. Well, ok, not that bad. If it were that bad I'm sure we'd be a lot further on. But seriously...last night I sat behind him, massaged his shoulders, gave him a head and face massage, petted his facial hair and worked on his dreds so he wouldn't end up with one big one. Rawr. His head is so hot. So's his body. How does he keep up that level of body heat? It's staggering.

He didn't kiss me goodnight, though. Maybe we're not that far. We're still at the Slamming Naked Bodies stage. The Denial stage, I guess, and not really at Goodnight Kisses. Bummer.

9:40 am

Japanese pop and Ella Fitz. Girl's taken a lot from her Louis. Armstrong, that is.

I'm hungry? Maybe just tired. Thirsty? I have to pee. I don't want to be here anymore. Fifteen minutes. Woot? CocoRosie is pretty catchy. Not kidding. It's like...girl's got shit in her mouth, but it's cute. How does she do it ?

No, seriously.

I'm fuckin hungry. What the hell is wrong with oatmeal when it won't last you more than three hours? THE FUCK IS THE WORLD COMING TO????

I'm getting twitchy. What happened to everybody wanting to go to Japan? Oh, here it is. Okay. Here we go again. I think I'll rip this.

I was getting mad cuz...I don't know where I was going with that thought.

TWO TON BOA!!!!!!!!!!!!! PHEBE YOU ROCK!!!!! I LOVE THIS SONG! THANK YOU FOR PLAYING IT FOR MEEEEEEE!!! EEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Okay. So. Just letting me know I approve. I'm gonna go finish my show, piss, and take a nap.

I was tooling around the internets and discovered that "Twitter" is not just a story invented by netizens to scare the normal folk into complacency. No, this evil actually exists, and it IS as boring as everyone says it is.

What is the joy in following a twitter? I guess it'd be cool if you're in a band and you're being followed by fans you can post where and when your shows are. That would be cool. Or if you really, really want a stalker and post where and when you'll be places in the hopes that at least one face keeps showing up so you can milk sweet, dark fantasies that you'll wake up to a bouquet of black roses or have pig blood smeared all over your door. Other than that it's drivel. "Woke up hungover. Again. I don't know why this keeps happening." "Haha - locked myself out of my house, at least my crazy ex-boyfriend still has the key and it's almost time for him to come over and prance around my apartment in my underwear. I'll get in then." "Waiting in the airport. Fat man next to me eating a hotdog. Smells like barf." "I think I have ADD. My boss is talking to me but I have no idea what he just said." 

I mean...have we gotten so out of touch with ourselves that the voices in our heads aren't enough entertainment anymore?? We have to turn to the stupid narcissism of our fellow man to bring us happiness? I mean...really. I'm so disappointed.

I'm also disappointed in my own cellular mutation. Which hasn't happened. When I was 8 I figured that by the time I got to 24 I'd either be dead (most likely, given my propensity to cross streets without looking), a rockstar, or a really cracked out mutant hell-bent on the destruction of the universe. Actually, that's a lie. I still had ideals then. I wanted to be a hero. An astronaut. A teacher who helped poor people learn how to read. A proud mistress to a successful escort service. You know, good things. Good deeds. It wasn't until my parents split up and sent my older brother and I away to Michigan for a summer that I started to realize my full potential.

Gasping in the humidity of the unrelenting Michigan summer heat, sunburns aching and mosquito bites bleeding because of vicious scratching I learned some very important lessons. One - young children are evil. They are little screaming, ADHD-plagued balls of death, destruction, and violent wake-up calls. Two - It takes a really big bottle rocket, or a bunch of small ones to effectively lift and explode the rigid bodies of G.I. Joe action figures, and three - You can't trust adults. They lie, cheat, steal, lie and send you to bed early if you question their authority. Oh - four - lightning bugs and frogs are AWESOME and it's totally a shame that they don't have them where I grew up, otherwise my diet would have been TOTALLY different.

These four lessons put together add up to one thing - summertime is the best time to get a divorce if you have children involved, because it's sinisterly easy to find a place to put them for a long period of time while you "sort out" your differences and move to opposite sides of the city/state/country/world.

Wait, no, that's not where I was going with that. I was on my way to creating the world outlook  I cling to to this day.  A strong belief in the uselessness of babyboomers （excepting the ones that I love. Or maybe even including them. It's totally possible to love someone and still consider them useless), an acute sense of betrayal as I realize that everyone lies - but no one so much as the old people who swear up and down that they know the difference between right and wrong, and that cynicism gets you no where - so you might as well be accepting of other people's faults because lord knows - everyone is crawling with them. Ugh, filthy, lying humans. How I love you so.

And as soon as I get my superpowers, I'm going to DESTROY YOU ALL!! Well, no...not all of you. But I will do my best to become the best megalomaniacal bad-gal I can be to prove to you my love. That's how deep my love goes.

I are at: my floor I are listening to: It's Raining On Prom Night - Me First & The Gimme Gimmes I said # megalomania, mutants, twitter

I'm a little weird about addressed with a pronoun. Not like transgendered "oh, my pronoun has just become integral to my very identity," kind of weird, but more like "you have just ostracized me, put me on display, and stripped me of my connection to the group" kind of weird.

I was outside breaking this dumb piece of pottery I made that had been fused together with its own glaze juices, when "BLAHBLAHBLAH" up comes this pack of old annoying people talking about how they live here and how his son blahblahblah - and then they stop behind me as I'm smashing the hammer into the back of the screwdriver and say "I bet she doesn't need an audience." And I'm like, "You just gave me one."

Being referred to as she has stripped me of casual acquaintance-ness. You don't know me because otherwise you would have used my name, it would have been warm and inclusive. By using my name people would have a new familiarity with me, a warmth, but the pronoun is cold, it's non-subjective, disinterested - a marker for a thing. And now the spotlight is on me, the "she" demands your attention, and now I am a performer, a circus freak, the woman behind the glass.

It's a whole lot of whatever, but I still hate it. I have a friend who, when telling a story will refer to me as "she" and everytime he does it I physically take a step back because I feel so ostracized from the whole conversation. Like I have no business being where I'm being talked about. It's disconcerting. I don't like it. Mebbe I'll make a shirt what says "please don't refer to me by pronoun." I don't think anyone would get it, and it'd get taken as a tranny thing, but you know...whatever.

It's getting...bigger than I even thought. I haven't wanted to save anyone in a REALLY LONG TIME. I don't save people. I've watched too many people get pulled down by the people they're trying to save and not only is the boat capsized but they both sink.

In some strange way she's special. I don't know why. I think it's because she's messy. She throws herself like paint against the canvas of other people's lives and you can't not absorb it. Messy people are hard to avoid. Young and delirious with the life - so...why is she doing what she's doing?

Beaten to hospitalization by her last fiancee and now wrapped up and doomed to marriage after three months with a man who won't even acknowledge her in public. He has claimed her and she's oblivious to his dastardly deed. He'll keep her just to keep her and she'll find herself beaten again. I want her out of it. She's like me if I had made some really dumb decisions. I mean...I have. But I also recognize that I can't be happy if I feel tied down.

She's like me. Huru says, "you can't marry your reflection." She's loud and idealistic. she lives on a plane of reality that isn't necessarily always attached to this one. She recognizes that she's unhappy, but doesn't know why, and then she lists the people in her life and although trying to be upbeat about it she slowly becomes aware of their abusive natures. She seems to surround herself in abusive men.

I want to avoid her because I know my habit to abuse in kind. When people expect it I tend to oblige. I told her things about me I haven't told anyone, really. I've written about it, but I can't remember ever talking about myself for so long. Talking about myself. Looking at her. Wondering why she does it. Why she won't just see that three months isn't long enough to love someone. That she's 19 and she doesn't need to be doing this right now. That people will always love her if she lets them. That's she's fucking 19 years old. And if she goes through with this she's going to miss out on everything she told me she wants in life. A free spirit locked in a cage. WHY???

Is it my business? Do I have any right? Any say? 

It's heavy. We need to find black men to love. That's what we need. Just to sate this insatiable thirst.

I are at: All Eyes Open I are listening to: 500 mile is a REAL LONG TIME in a car

Yeah. They made it for me.

I feel like <3<3<3<3...but that could be the sleep deprivation...? Caffeine? Squats?

It's the year of the Swagger. And I'm standing in place.

*SIGH*

I'm sorry 西安. I totally let you down. 虎入。。。没有字会用。。。怎么这么笨！！！

Whatever. Anyone in the room with testicles is wrong.

I are at: ticken chable I are listening to: some chinese movie

Thoughts scattered - can't think.

The muggy air of the library melts my mind with its musty, papery fragrance. Mental images of biblio-decomposition tumble around my legs as they struggle up the stairs. Pressed tree pulp and cracking leather covers collapse to the floor, pushed from their previous perches by their swollen neighbors. Vines sprout out of the stacks and haunting primate howls echo down laboriously long corridors while flickering artificial lights battle with the limpid light streaming in through the windows and collapsed roof. Skeletons with earbuds stuck to their skulls by bits of surviving ear-flesh, their tattered sundresses and sullied slacks flapping limply in the summer breeze, slump over rotting desks, claws still clutching computers and pens.

I stumble out of the close stairway - the smell of people and their disgusting habits swirl around me as I power through row after row of shelves rammed with wretched books nobody has read. A girl steps back and stares as I pass - less than indifferent.

My shoulders ache from my bag, my brain is whirling, twirling, a whirligig spiraling out of the lawn, into the air - up, up, and up until it disappears among the clouds. The soft dampness of cumulus caresses give way to the cold thin air of the upper troposphere, and then the terrifying tepidity of the tropopause. Life slows, the flinging arms of the toy have less to grasp, the air too thin now to support whirling propulsion. Turbulence falls away to soothing soaring as the stratosphere is set upon.

The ghostly arms of a small bat wrap around the stem of the whirligig, supporting it on its journey toward the sparkling vacuum of space. Colder and calmer - more distant, less distinct.

With a cough I crack open a can of liquid caffeine, my closed computer stares carelessly at the ceiling. A deep breath precedes my desperate depression as I realize I still don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.

WHERE'S MY HEAD AT???? I need new hair. What about his?

I are at: 6th floor Davis I are listening to: Sin With Sebastian - Shut up (and sleep with me)

*glomp*

I get tired of reading about people's days. Seriously, our lives are all pretty much the same. We wake up, piss, drink water like fish then if we have time eat breakfast. Grudgingly we go to work or school, and when it's done we run home to sit around in boredom or thrust ourselves on our friends and either pine about how we wish we had an other or wish our other were sane. Sometimes people have something interesting to say like "a crazy ass mother fucker stole my fucking SHOES! He let me keep my wallet, ipod and chapstick, but MY SHOES ARE GONE!!!" and I'm like "okay. That was surreal. I can appreciate it."

But really. I find that more and more often the most exciting thing people are finding to say about their day is that their bowel movement looked a lot like a rabbit eating a goat as it floated in the toilet bowl. Don't care, you know? I just don't care. It's general apathy, really. Once you've talked about it all there's really few words you want to waste on the topic at all.

That said, I have to apologize profusely because this post...is about my day. (if you don't want to know, just watch the video. Then you'll wish you had opted for reading...MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Apathetic mother fuckers.)




It started Thursday. Around 9am. My day, i mean. I fell out of bed and struggled to deal with the impossibility of getting everything done that had to be done and pretend to be interested in the process. It was a day that involved yet another impossible Chinese test, a paper about something I was only vaguely sure about, a lecture in Turkish and a lack of interest in all of the above listed.

In fact, the general apathy of my day, and the sickening lack of caffeine resulted in a weird funk that ate my brain. A funk that was struggling with the excitement about events planned that promised some level of excitement. I was excited about the bar because I was promised pool and dancing with some of my favorite people on this crazy blue planet. I was excited about my radio show because I'm ALWAYS excited about my radio show, despite the fact that I have NO LISTENERS. Later, despite how weird it sounds, I was even more excited about waffles.

What I wasn't expecting was:
1. Having my furry car seat cover stolen out of the passenger side (and the steering wheel cover) although NOTHING ELSE IN THE CAR WAS TAKEN. Yeah, I'm awesome, but does that mean you have to make my passengers uncomfortable?
2. Backing into a car and having to write one of those notes that says "Hey, I hit your car. Sorry. I'm not really sure what needs to be done, but here's my number. Please call." I haven't gotten a call yet. I don't know if its because they couldn't read my writing, don't speak English, or worse - STILL DON'T KNOW (this happened around 6:30 AM Friday morning - still hadn't slept)
3. Grinding up on my friend's girlfriend...and my friend. And my other friend. It's okay, though. We're all friends. That's what friends do. Get hot and steamy together to exacerbate already painful sexual frustration, and then hug and say bye. After being rudely loud in a residential neighborhood at 2 in the morning.
4. The madness continued as I shouted obscenities in Chinese over the air during my radio show at one of those friends I had been grinding up on. Something about 我妈妈的豆腐。Which is something I really shouldn't be talking about anyway. 
5. Passing out on my friend's couch, just to wake up when he came home from work so that we could take a nap. I slept for almost 8 hours today. I haven't done that in forever. Usually I'm too jacked up on caffeine for that kind of nonsense.

It was a long day. With a lot of shit going on in it that may come back to bite me later...

But at least I hung out with people who make my life worth living. And I got waffles.

I are at: Bedroom floor I are feeling contemplative I are listening to: Thrill Kill Kult - Twilight Web I said # car wreck, chinese, crazy man, friends, thievery, waffles