The Fox Hole

2003-05-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I hate this town. I fucking hate this fucking, shit-hole of a town. I'm sad and I'm tired and I'm lonely and I'm fighting the urge to cry. It's pretty outside and I don't even care. It's like I'm looking out at a drab, boring canvas that doesn't hold much interest for me. And unlike in Voyage of the Dawn Treader, stepping through the windowpane will not land me in a wonderful new world. It will just give me a broken leg.

Which is still better than a heartache.

I will never date anyone in this city again. Ever. I don't even want to talk to anyone new in this city ever again. I don't want to hope and want and feel the lonely go away and then have it shoved back down my throat. God damnit, now I am crying.

I couldn't sleep. I'm all alone in this fucking house. I can't exactly take the mice out to cuddle. Jason's asleep. Martha and Katy are at work. Anyone else, I have to walk the line of how much I once wanted them, or how much they once wanted me, or how many scars we share together that we haven't figured out how to meld. Or how much I want them now to where I can hardly stand it.

Look at where I am again, everybody! That same fucking place where I have to hide away until it all heals over because it just hurts too fucking much. I'm so fucking smart when I write. I tell myself the whole truth. "Aren't you a lover who has not yet learned to love in time?" Oh, isn't that me? Isn't it just? Why can't I ever see it in time? Why do I do this to myself?

When I was in France, that first time, I thought that I would just take my backpack and walk off into Europe. Just walk off and disappear and never look back. But, I'm not made that way. "I've still got the scars that the sun won't heal" - Bob Dylan. I want to just walk away from it all. I want to go insane and do drugs and rot out all of it. I did that last summer, though. I can't really do that again. I should, but I can't. My body is starting to feel too strong again despite all the hurt I've poured into it.

If only something could work. Just once. Just one little time. Is it really too much to ask? I know I'm not such a bad person. Why is it that I fall into three camps: sister, friend, mastabatory fantasy? And, fuck, even when the last two come together it doesn't mean shit. All it means is that someone is willing to drool over me at a distance, fuck me if they get the chance to, and pretend it didn't happen. Yes, it sounds crass, but that's all it ever seems to boil down to for me.

Who are these women that men will die for? Who are these women that men love? Who are the ones the poets write to? I am a poet. I write to these women, myself. And to the men, too. But, what of that... even those people who make me burn the brightest, who make me write myself to flames... they think nothing of it. Nothing. I write beautiful things for them and they do not care. Doesn't everyone want to be immortalized in art? It's not everyone I can do that with, just the ones who catch me the right way. Just the ones who have that beauty that I need to taste. I always feel like Yeats writing to Maud Gonne. He wrote things to make my heart break. And she never blinked an eye.

It is no one's fault and I'm sorry for my hatred and my rage. I am. It's not going to fester this time. The air's already been cleared. But how nice it must be to have someone care for you so devotedly, to know that they are there waiting in the wings! To know it and still have some other rush in to see you like the cavalry. Tell me this isn't what everyone longs for. To know that when one person leaves, that other one will still be there to make you feel special. No matter the cost to her own fucking heart.

With a few liberties for changing to the feminine, this seems all I can say right now. I'm going to work on a fucking, sad story. And laught at this fool who just send me a note on the Onion. Don't even waste my time.

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one woman loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid her face amid a crowd of stars.

2003-05-22T10:08:00.000-07:00

Icky sore throat. I left my coughdrops at Chris' house last night and now I'm waiting for him to wake up so I can get them. Well, and we're supposed to have a "picnic" (suitably in quotes since it's nasty rainy out) and see the Matrix as well. I couldn't sleep too late today with my throat hurting, so I just gave up and got up. And now I'm doped up on sudafed and tylenol and I'm twiddling my thumbs.

I should be packing for the trip home this weekend, but why would I want to do that? Plan ahead? Pshaw!

So, drama decided to rear it's ugly head yesterday. My friend Christopher decided we need to have "a talk." Supposedly, I've been very mean to him in the past few weeks. Let us just ignore the fact of how inconsiderate he's been to me in the past two _years_, eh? I managed not to laugh out loud on the phone and we had a decent conversation, though he did piss me off more than once and he did make me cry. Bastard. It's not very hard to do these days, I admit. But still. I guess that drama's handled and now we're going to "work on being friends again". Whoopty-woo.

And my friend Mary's having a terrible time with romance. Poor thing. Had a long talk with her yesterday.

And then Chris and I went out for sushi and up popped, just like a fucking miracle, my ex Heather. Looking far too cute. Exes should never look so cute, yet they always manage to. I guess we're going to hang out next week. It was nice to see her and she's sweet, even though she did completely blow me off last fall. I don't really have a problem finding cute girls, they all just turn out lame. Alicia's new thesis: the attractive women I have loved, and all their lame shit. The men, I'm afraid, would be more of an encyclopedic series. Well, no, that's not true, I only have 2 real exes for men. I have a handful of hook-ups, but there's no emotional shit with that.

Speaking of those male exes - one of them is great. I love B to death. Brandon for those of you who don't go on initial letters. We get along a bazillion times better now than we ever did when we were together.

And Richard and I at least have psychic radar to keep ourselves from running into each other. It's the best case scenario for us, I think. I don't want to have to live through the drama that would probably ensue if we saw each other.

Okay, this got off track... all I was going to talk about was the weird drama that cropped up yesterday and the good day I had outside of that drama. But, no, I had to whine. It's the medicine, I swear it is.

Oooo, better note! Chris gave me watermellon. It was the last part of my birthday present. Hot damn, how sweet is that? Little gestures like that just mean the most, I swear they do. It's still in his fridge, but I'm going to encorporate it into the picnic today. When he gets up. Poor, poor insomnia-lad.

2003-05-20T16:39:00.000-07:00

Ah, the joy of doing absolutely fucking nothing.

It's my first true day of vacation and I've been sufficiently indolent. I'll do some actual work tomorrow, but I'm enjoying the brainlessness of today.

Now, I have leftovers to eat. And maybe I'll run back to Target and spend more of my giftcard. What joy!

2003-05-16T16:39:00.000-07:00

Wow. In just one day I survived a massive, raging hangover. And a monsoon.

I swear, a monsoon really did hit Atlanta. That's the only way I can explain the gigantic pools of standing water that sloshed out of the sky late last night. And fucked up my car. Yes, now my car makes this weird sound when it gets put in reverse. Oh, what fucking joy! Like I have any money to get my car fixed. Thank you, stupid fucking rain.

On a better note, good class today. And after my three tomorrow I get to party like a mad woman. Yes, birthay part 3 will be landing tomorrow night.

Yeah, birthday!

I'm a bit too full from veggies at the moment. Had collards and corn and mac & cheese from Market One. I feel like I could sleep again right now, but Katy and I are supposed to hang later, so I need to stay awake.

2003-05-15T15:57:00.000-07:00

And today my brain feels like:

a) an ashtray
b) the shriveled up worm in the bottom of the tequila bottle
c) a tangled mess of nerve endings and alcohol
d) all of the above

Aside from the fact that I didn't actually have a cigarette last night (I don't think), my body really doesn't like me very much. I drunk way, way, waaaaay too much on my birthday last night and ended up puking and passing out. Jason and Chris cared for me like sweethearts....though I still managed to fall all over myself. I felt so bad when I woke up this morning I thought I was going to die. But then I realized I was with Chris and it really wouldn't be very polite to die in his bed.

Manners while hungover? How silly of me.

At the moment, I'm not quite sure if anything in my body is functioning properly. I managed to survive class. Somehow. And I'm going to go see my friend Mary in just a bit.

Other than that, there will be a small break in birthday activities until Saturday. Just enough time to let my body and brain re-wire themselves. Right now, I'm heading off to Target. My sis gave me a $50 gift card and I think shopping will help improve my jangled nerves quite a bit.

Despite the body torture, I do so love birthdays.

2003-05-12T21:46:00.000-07:00

Graaaaaaarl.

I think I'm feverish. And my toe's about to fall off. I swear it is.

I'm going to take my horse-tranquilizer pain pills that are normally reserved for nasty-bad cramps. And I'm going to crawl under my comfy blanket and sleep. I've reverted to infancy, really. At the moment, I'm refusing to make my bed because it's cozier to sleep on _top_ of the soft comfortor with a just a regular fuzzy blanket for sheets.

Now, if only my toe would stop hurting.

And tonight on the Discovery Channel: foxes who chew off their toes when little kids squash them. Graaarl indeed.

Must take delirium to bed. Going to my favoritest place tomorrow before work: the library! All to find kid's books that an online friend recommended. And French grammer books to tutor a certain petit chou.

2003-05-12T21:27:00.000-07:00

Oh, crumbunnies and garglesnaps! I just remembered:

My bastard ex still has my copy of the collected Weetzie Bat books. That rotten ass-whore.

Richard does _not_ deserve Witch Baby. Or even Cherokee Bat. They're mine, damnit. And I'm never going to get it back...

I'm going to have by a new copy.

That fucking, fuckety prick. My, I'm glad I just have indignant rage towards him tonight.

2003-05-12T20:10:00.000-07:00

My toe hurts.

One of my ardorable first-graders, Sophie, was giving me a hug after class and decided it was a good idea to jump on my sandaled toe in sneakers. My toe then started bleeding and is now purple. I'm going to lose part of the nail, definitely.

I told my boss and she laughed. I have my first real injury so now I'm supposedly broken in! Hah.

As if teaching with massive hangovers isn't enough of a break-in....

The last week of teaching is nice. It's a weight off when you finish each class. Once I wrap up tomorrow's classes, it'll be smooth sailing until Saturday. Not that it's ever _easy_ to finish a class, it's just that my Wed-Fri schedule is so relaxed with one class a day. Much less energy required than with a double or triple.

Oh, and guess what? 25 hours and counting until my birthday! Whoopty-woo!

Beer. Making me sleepy now. And toe....throbbing.

2003-05-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

Not dark yet, but getting there again...

Actually, no, that's not quite right. I'm just in a foul, muzzy mood. A bit too much alcohol. A bit too many emotions running high. A house with no air save for a fan. And a nasty cramp in one leg. I got up and started cursing because it knotted up so badly.

And, now, I'm sitting around completely stark naked. Still hot. I need to drink water.

I've decided that, at moments, I hate quite a few of my so-called friends. Everyone's so self-centered and "intense." When, really, we're all just like the poor little bird that got left out of his cage too long...and flew away. Or crawled into a rafter and died.

I wonder which of us will start stinking the place up first?

I, for one, refuse to stagnate. Time to find fresh ground.

2003-05-10T16:07:00.000-07:00

Rehtoric question: why is it necessary to look up lame-ass shit on the internet?

I mean, I know I've been using my brain since 8:00 this morning for teaching, but does that really now require that I lounge around in my bathrobe and look at the official American Idol website? Does it _really_?

The answer of course is yes.

Ruuuuuuben's from B-ham and I have to support the Alabama crew.

*cue jangly music here* "Where the skies are so blue...." Wow, I can't believe I'm going to spend the majority of five weeks in Alabama. Maybe I'll get my twang back.

And maybe the sky will start shitting bricks.

2003-05-10T16:02:00.000-07:00

So, I'm being sent home for five weeks. For teaching. I bet I'm going to be teaching at my old high school. It's going to be so weird! But good as well. I'm considering this my 'focus on saving money and getting writing done' retreat. And I'll definitely eat well while I'm there. Mom's cookin' - yummy!

Still, there will be the suck factor of being home. And I get mopey when I miss my peeps, as Jason would say. But I'll be coming home two days each week for mad running around.

Teaching went very well today. My boss is coming to see me next Saturday. Well, actually, two of my bosses are coming... my boss and _her_ boss. Skeeeeery! I'm already nervous.

Wisdom for the day: always sit and talk on park benches at night. It does a body good.

2003-05-09T08:59:00.000-07:00

I hate being destitute. It fucking sucks.

I'm still so in the hole from the last few months that I'm only coming out to $85 ahead for the next two weeks. Factor in two tanks of gas at least...and I gots a grand total of $50 fucking dollars. Woo fucking hoo.

But the end of this month is going to be even better. I'm going to have to get my car insurance and renter's insurance _and_ AAA bills from my parents. But at least if I do that I can get my credit card under limit and won't be paying $40 extra bucks a month on it.

And I guess I'm going to have to stop using my cell phone. My bills keep getting too high. I can't afford it.

On a better note, went out with my ex B last night. First boyfriend and all that from way back when I was a sweet, innocent 18-year old. Ha! B is great and much fun and has loads of money. So he bought me four sapphire and tonics.

Am I bad for doing this? I do care for him, of course, but I feel kind of sleazy always having to ask him to pay. le sigh

Maybe I'll get some money for my birthday. That would be a huge help.

2003-05-08T17:54:00.000-07:00

Prefuse-73 was absolutely fucking amazing.

Wow.

Just wow.

I'm still happy about it.

Now to find something to do tonight...

2003-05-07T17:18:00.000-07:00

Tickets have not yet been acquired, but hope springs eternal.

I called the Echo Lounge and the lady said that they'd only sold like a hundred and they would definitely have tickets when the doors open. So, I'm just going to run down and grab the ticket at 9:00, then bum around a bit before I go in. I'll sit and read or something at the coffee shop.

On a completely unrelated note: I have the cutest mice. They like to snuggle and groom each other. It's absolutely fucking adorable.

And another unrelated note: I love beer.

2003-05-07T10:41:00.000-07:00

And the quest for Prefuse-73 tickets continues.

Attempts so far:

- 1 ticket needed for $10. $12 at the door.
- One unsuccessful ticket giveaway at 88.5. Waiting for #2.
- Two CDs successfully sold to Criminal for $6.
- 7 CDs unsuccessfully sold to Criminal for $0.
- One check being dropped off by roommate tonight for $50.

The resultant question being - will the mad dash home from teaching to cash the check at a liquor store result in a scored ticket or will they be sold out? Or will Alicia get really lucky and actually win a ticket?

Tune in later tonight to either hear me sob or shout exultantly.

2003-05-06T22:34:00.000-07:00

Shadows are falling and I've been here all day
It's too hot to sleep time is running away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.

Oh, he knows how it is...Dylan always does. How funny it all is. I was so chipper earlier. And it's not that I'm depressed now. I'm just sedate. I went to dinner with Martha and caught X2 again. For free, of course. Gotta love residual movie theatre benefits.

Okay, perhaps sedate isn't the right word.

There is a definite sadness around the edges.

It's just that time of year. I will be 24 in exactly one week. And I'm lonely. Oh, I am lonely. Not for anyone at all really. Or anything. Just this continual hole I keep patching up in myself. Just this wound from exactly a year ago.

It's been over six months since I saw him. How do people do it? Just patch up the hole and keep going? I'm very brave about the thought of seeing him. But if it's ever to happen at all, I don't know what I'll do.

Cry? Scream? Hit? Curse? What would be the point of any of it? I suppose I just want to ask, "Why, baby? Why did you have to cut me open like this?"

These days, I look in the mirror and I like what I see most times. I honestly do. It's just all this sadness. I don't want to be alone this next week and a half. I won't be able to stand it if I have to be alone. Especially on my birthday. Oh, it was already all done by then, wasn't it R? At least for you. How I can love and hate someone so splendidly as I do you, I haven't the faintest clue.

I am far too maudlin to be sober.

I just...damn. No, I can't be alone on my birthday. I'm trying so hard to be all together and I do real good except at night. Really, I just hoped there'd be someone around who I could be sweet with this time of year. But expectations don't always turn out the way one hoped. And not even a friendship can be forced.

I think C has given me his insomnia.

I wish I had a whole vat of wine I could cry into.

2003-05-06T11:01:00.000-07:00

And second order of business, which I'd like to call: Hot for teacher.

It's inevitable in a high school class. One of the boys is going to start oggling you at some point. So, last night, in the throes of hangover recovery, I got all hot in class (not hot and bothered, sickos) - there wasn't much air. So I took off my sweater which I never really do. It shows my tattoos when I do that. But I was hot so I took it off and just had my t-shirt on underneath it. Jarrod and Ryan already stare at me, but this time it was extremely obvious. I'm so cruel too. I just wanted to be all: Yes, I know my breasts are cute and perky, but your sixteen year-old hands ain't getting anywhere near them. So there.

Obviously, I was fiesty last night too.

I survived both classes yesterday, amazingly well considering the condition of my brain. And there was a great moment in the highschool class were Megen found this amazingly intricate point in the book. She's really getting into the class and I _love_ it. She's my darling who reads Chuck Palahniuk and wears Sketchers. She could be me some day!

Another moment of amusement this morning when I went into the office. My boss is training a huge new batch of teachers. And just like yesterday, I loped in all jeans and little tank-top. I feel like wearing a sign. It would read: Hi. I am your veteran teacher role-model. If you study real hard and try your best, you can be just like me. Over-sexed, tattooed, crass, lewd, binge-drinking and (gasp) bisexual.

I'm such a great example, aren't I?

Fiesty. Fiesty. Fiesty.

On a side note: I hate when signals get crossed. Just thought you should know.

Maybe I can snag Chris on the phone tonight. Would be nice to catch up. I got some kick-ass comics on Free Comic Book Day that I know he'll like.

And maybe if I get really lucky, I can win tickets to Prefuse-73 from 88.5. *crosses fingers, listens for the cue to call*

2003-05-06T10:47:00.000-07:00

First in the line-up for today: Comic fan-boy fantasy #223. I'm gonna bottle and sell this, I swear...

Two girls on the phone, lounging around in lingerie, having this discussion - "I didn't like him in the first movie because it was all Sabertooth. There was _no_ Victor Creed at all."

Which is exactly what happened with Martha and I last night. I should really make an amature porno with that as the theme, though I doubt I'd be too big on the sex part. I just know it would sell billions though. If you film it, they will cum.

God, I'm fiesty today.

It's because of the sex dreams. I swear it is. I'm having one of my "I'm a poet and everything/everyone is beautiful" days. Not that that has to do with the sex dreams... I'm getting ahead of myself again. I think I'm just horny today. Which I can say safely since there are only three people in the entire world who peek at this thing at all.

So I dreamed about this boy asking me to have sex. He was a slim, hipster boy. Tight t-shirt. Cute glasses. Shaggy blonde hair. Little earrings in each ear. Goddamn... He was this weird amalgam of this kid I met at The Trackside on Drunken Night (Sunday). Cute boy with cool tattoos. And this kid Carter who I hooked up with in Ohio way back in January. And you-know-who for the glasses. I'm so fiesty today I'll admit to anything.

Anyways, this kid in my dream asked me to have sex. And, since I'm never one to resist such temptation...I accepted. The dream was real weird though. It was mainly just leading-up stuff. Like, I clearly dreamed taking my pill and looking for a condom in my purse. Go me being safe! And my friend Cameron was there laying on the floor. And so was Jason. But he was in the bed and we had to kick him out which is just fucked up on all counts. I'm not going to analyze that.

Speaking of Jason, I saw his exact clone on Memorial this morning. It was weeeeeeird.

Blabbering, fiesty horny girl. That's me today, obviously. I will survive though. I always do.

2003-05-05T11:31:00.000-07:00

And, now, words of wisdom for the day from Mr. Bobby D. Otherwise known as Bob Dylan to those who aren't a close, personal friend:

Never could learn to drink that blood
And call it wine,
Never could learn to hold you, love,
And call you mine.

Don't know what the last part has to do with anything, but the first part is dead on today. Or, more accurately, I'm dead on. Or brain dead. Or something.

Last night, I decided it was an excellent idea to have the "Alicia-gets-drunk-all-by-herself" party. Oh, I was hanging out with friends. It wasn't quite so terrible as me reverting back to alcoholism. But still, my friends were only imbibing in tiny doses compared to my consumption. And what was this consumption, you may ask? Only about 8 glasses of cheap wine. Or 9. Or more. I don't remember. It was cheap red, then we switched to pink. Blargh.

Although, coming back to Dylan, I suppose my night had a bit to do with the love subject as well. I hung out with my friend Christopher last night. Whom I call Chris, but to go ahead and clear up confusion from _that_, I'll continue to dub him Christopher. It was wonderful. He and I have one of those odd yet beautiful love affairs that never really was a love affair at all. Not in the true sense of love affair. But he's such a beautiful man. We have such an amazing relationship.

It's just been a very, very long time since we could talk and last night reminded me how much I enjoy being near him. I'm such a sappy drip, aren't I? But that's okay... he lets me love him how I need to love him and he returns the favor. And he inspires me to write amazing poems.

Anyway, I'm starting to blather. I saw X2 yesterday as well. It fucking blew me away. Kurt Wagner! le sigh

And Logan looked good enough to eat. Rarrr.

Now must take my hungover-ass to go teach. It's gonna hurt, kiddies. Mainly for Ms. Alicia.

Hopefully Insomnia-Boy has been cured of his sleep deprivation. But that is a story for another time.

2003-05-02T18:44:00.000-07:00

These two quotes are from one of my new favorite authors, C. Elise. The first one makes me want to cry, it's so true:

//It would be tempting to believe that the great changes in my life are past. But I know that I rest in the eye of the whirlwind. If I could go back now and talk to my young self, I would tell her what I try to tell these children when I teach them history. That change will come, and you must welcome it. If you cling to the ground, you will only be uprooted. Better to raise your arms and cry out to the wind with a full voice and let it take you. When it lets you go, declare the place you land to be your destination, and no one can prove you were not flying.

And here's the second:

//Perhaps love always longs for something more than flesh can give it. Perhaps love is always astonished, as
well, at how much it can have.

I'm very happy right now, for no other reason than it's raining and I'm muzzy off a beer. I feel strangely in control of myself tonight. And greatful for all of the oddities of life.

I will teach well tomorrow, I think.

And then I will keep reveling in what it _is_ to be in a body. After years of hashing it all out, some of the shit seems to be clearing from my head. It's a marvelous feeling.

P.S. Note to me - this will not be used for bitching any more unless absolutely necessary. Time to move up and out.

2003-04-30T19:36:00.000-07:00

Argh...screw that....

C - if you're reading: STOP. I shouldn't have told you about it in the first place.

a) all of this is in the past
b) nothing of my plans are settled
c) you're still reading - STOP

I just want to watch a movie tonight and be sweet.

2003-04-30T19:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, for some foolish reason I gave C this address.

C - please take the below with a grain of salt. It was written in certain moments which have passed. I am melodramatic at times. Also anal.

And I can't believe I'm letting you see this...

2003-04-25T08:51:00.000-07:00

I love the Dixie Chicks. I really do. I love them even more now than I used to.

The Boss loves them too:

Bruce Springsteen posted a statement on his Web site supporting the group: "For them to be banished wholesale from radio stations ... is un-American."

And he's fucking right.

Just look at the picture if nothing else.... That's what I'm talking about!

2003-04-24T08:40:00.000-07:00

Open mouth. Insert foot. Chew liberally, as my friend Emery would say.

Or as Uhura might say on Star Trek: Captain, all signals have been crossed!

I just quoted Star Trek, didn't I? I definitely need help.

So he's been deathly ill all the while, it seems. And I made myself look the fool. Though at least he admits he should have called. I haven't seen him since last Thursday - with our history of hanging out or talking every other day or so, what am I supposed to think?

I know, I sound loony. But this will be part of the conversation tonight:I just realized that in the past three years I've only allowed two new people into my life on any permanent basis. My friend Mary I met my Senior year in college and my friend Christopher I met right after graduation. Basically three and two years ago, respectively. Everyone else is from what I term pre-David time. Since the suicide, I've been very stand-offish about letting anyone close and this boy is definitely feeling the effects of that. I'm very prickly still.

Add to that, I haven't been close to a man since Richard a year ago, and he's getting the full brunt of it. I suppose my mind assumes that if Richard could up and leave me with no warning after five months - when we were _in_ a relationship and supposedly in love - then it shouldn't be hard for someone I've barely known a month to do the same thing. Without warning.

This is going to take work. And honest talk like we had last night.

What a muddle feelings always make of us. Wading through past feelings always being the most treacherous.

"I want so badly to believe that there is truth, that love is real" - The Postal Service.

2003-04-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

Refraining from sappy moping today. Class will help with that. And I'm going to drown my sorrows with Katy later which will be just perfect.

Brother helped me quite a bit yesterday.

"And I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd" - The Postal Service

Words I'm clinging to.

Oh, and in case I haven't mentioned it - I hate men. And women. And relationships. If I thought I could get away with just fucking, I'd do it, but I know that makes me sad too.

2003-04-21T08:09:00.000-07:00

And, now, a little fact about me. I have Heterochromia. Read below to find out more:

Definition

Heterochromia is the presence of different colored eyes in the same person.

Considerations

This condition is relatively rare in humans. However, heterochromia appears quite commonly in dogs (such as Dalmatians and Australian sheep dogs), cats, and horses.

Heterochromia in humans can appear either as a hereditary trait unassociated with other disease, or as a symptom of various syndromes. Rock star David Bowie has heterochromia.

***
Sharing a rare condition with David Bowie...really, what could be better? And my Heterochromia classifies as an hereditary trait, _not_ as part of a disease. Just so ya know.

2003-04-21T07:55:00.000-07:00

The past is the past is the past, a wise man once said. Or so I assume he once said. It seems like a very enlightened thing to say.

Right now, that's about the only thing I'm sure of.

I had a great weekend. No boy though. If he picked last night to avoid me...well, that's silly. Painting eggs isn't a very daunting task. Especially not for an artist! One would think.

We'll see if he calls at all or if he's just going to board himself up in his room and mope. I'd rather imagine him doing _that_ then thinking something is truly wrong.

But, I swear. A bit of courtesy after one has made plans is not too much to ask, is it?

Perhaps I didn't call early enough and, if that's the case, we both dropped the egg so to speak.

*drumroll please* Yes, that was a terrible joke. I'm going to get my teaching supplies ready now so I can mope around a bit more myself.

2003-04-15T21:59:00.000-07:00

Wow...the 4w5 really _is_ like me. With quite a bit of 5w6. How very odd.

I told myself to go to sleep a half an hour ago, but I'm still awake.

Boys make me nervous. So do girls. I need to relax and flow with this as much as I need him to, don't I? Damnit all...I'm going to give myself weird dreams about this. I need to really stop thinking about it.

2003-04-15T21:57:00.000-07:00

Conscious self	Overall self

Take Free Enneagram Test

2003-04-15T21:13:00.000-07:00

I'm very sleepy.

Classes went well tonight. Very well. The Level 3s were adorable. I'm so upset about Joshua's regular school, though - his teachers obviously have no faith in him, but he's such a bright boy! And trying very hard, despite being a little behind with his reading skills. I'm going to really enjoy working with him.

Chris had his schedule changed so he's working in the morning. I would have liked to see him tonight, but it's been nice to get some online work done. Besides, I get out of class by 6 tomorrow and it will be better to do something earlier. So it can go later, of course ;)

The weekend is shaping up to be quite good. Off to the mountains with the brother and friends, then (hopefully) fun times with the boy on Sunday.

Now, I should sleep so that I can be productive before class tomorrow.

2003-04-15T11:47:00.000-07:00

I so do not want to teach right now.

Must improve my mood.

2003-04-15T11:41:00.000-07:00

It's so odd, the little dance you do when you start really liking someone. The dance of not moving too fast, but still moving just fast enough.

I'm not even sure what I'm doing with this boy, save for this: I want to lie next to him very quietly. And I want to touch his hands.

That's a stupid fucking thing to say. I know.

I'm going to be upset if we can't keep this thing rolling. He's just so sweet and fun to be with and the sex is yummy too. I keep getting nervous about it, waiting for him to put up another road-block. Like I don't have issues...like anyone doesn't...and they've come trickling out a bit. But I'm trying.

R fucked me over so badly last year that I still have moments with Chris where I think that the sex is all I'm good for and that maybe he thinks that too and he refuses to take the one good thing that I have to offer. Damn, that doesn't even make sense, does it? Sex is just so fucking easy. All of it just easy fucking.

Except.

I don't know.

Maybe he's right to keep this from being physical. But I _*want* him. And I'm always so petulant when I don't get what I want.

I have to go teach two classes now. I'm afraid all I'm going to be thinking about is seeing him after class and wondering if I'm going to get to touch him tonight. Or if we're going to have another fucking talk.

2003-04-03T09:36:00.000-08:00

Oh, look. Another rejection letter from a journal in my inbox.

Such joy. Such fribulation.

Damn it all, I refuse to conform to these crap writing forms to get published! You hear me, you old white-men gods of publishing? I'm not going to do it! I'm going to keep bashing at you until I get in...

but this fuggin sucks.

2003-04-03T09:19:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've seen you smile....

Or since I've written anything at all. There's a reason I never kept a journal as a child. But my brother just nudged me to update. So here 'tis for what it's worth.

I just got a haircut. And it's tres cute. Which is a pretentious thing to say, but the boy watched the cutting and flipped over the final results, so I guess it's a success.

Speaking of boy: despite the fact that he doesn't like Rainer Maria (fah on him!), we had a good night last night. It's been a bit odd waiting for all of my tests to roll in, but now that they're all clear we've started really talking again. And it's good. And he's starting to get more openly touchy-feely which is a requirement in my book.

Boy gets points.

Stupid friends do not. More on that later.

But brother is wonderful and Martha is home, so not all friends are bad.

Now I need to eat.

2003-03-21T15:56:00.000-08:00

Stocks are up. I'm still dirt poor. Gotta love this war, eh folks?

On a better note, there are still good books to be read. Currently on the plate: The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields; Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard.

But I suppose I shouldn't be too exultant.

They're already burning country CDs. Books can't be far behind.

2003-03-20T12:35:00.000-08:00

"To live in this world, you must be able / to do three things: / to love what is mortal; / to hold it / against your bones knowing / your own life depends on it; / and, when the time comes to let it go, / to let it go."

I am supposed to be cooking now. Sustenance before work. Poetry doesn't quite provide sustenance, I'm afraid. Though maybe it gives some warmth. It's cold in this house. My nose is cold. My hands are cold. I keep thinking of what it means to lose someone. To find something else.

I doubt that Dubyah has ever truly lost anything he cared for. He's a pretentious bastard and his money buys off anything he could claim to love. Though I doubt he loves much either. Other than power. And his daddy.

When this ends, I want them to send him all the pictures. The ones of the children next to their mangled parents. Or mangled themselves and howling like hurt animals - the way that human beings learn to cry when everything has been stripped away. I want them to show him these pictures. I don't want him to ever be able to close his eyes. And when he sweats out all the oil and money that their deaths won for him, I want them to ask: "Was it worth it? Was it worth it? Have you ever loved anything so much in this terrible world as the terror on their faces...and the power that it brought you?"

2003-03-20T12:20:00.000-08:00

"When it's over, I want to say: all my life / I was a bride married to amazement. / I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms." - Mary Oliver