| justification one |
[31 Aug 2006|12:48am] |
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perhaps longing for the immaculate rhythm of the ocean which swallows everything men and fish and hope and vessels and spits them out, which breathes so perfectly attack retreat repeat repeat a storm a hyperventilation, a symphony. the way i wish my breath were so loud- i can hear it only when i stop and listen- and the ocean makes itself heard: spits its breath onto the edges of highways, into seashells which call for your ears, onto paintings and postcards, how it breathes into your dreams tick tocks like god's clock how it privately regulates everything.
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| that vague old masochism |
[11 Jun 2006|11:07am] |
my birthday gifts to myself this year:
piercings
pap smear
alcohol poisoning.
the latter makes me especially glad i never have to turn nineteen again.
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[05 Jun 2006|11:58pm] |
hi guys!
i'm turning nineteen this friday. come party! i'll be getting too drunk at the bourbon.
that's on cordova street.
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[30 May 2006|12:40am] |
burgers vaginas fried zucchini9 scrambled eggs
low fat soyf lower
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[17 May 2006|10:05pm] |
i drank a jamaican fizzy drink with sugar in it.
we had a little bit of jerk mayo and ketchup [SUGARRRRRR!!!]
if rj went to see the strokes tonight, i am pretty sure this cleanse is over.
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| BORING. |
[17 May 2006|02:14pm] |
so rj and i are "cleansing."
so far it's pretty gay.
we can't smoke, drink, do drugs, or eat anything normal.
please help us. it's day one of seven and we are not looking strong.
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[04 May 2006|06:12pm] |
things that are hard when you don't have a car anymore:
-life.
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[25 Apr 2006|07:12pm] |
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i don't like concerts.
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| ARTS COUNTY FAIR!? |
[08 Apr 2006|07:43pm] |
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oh MAN! if someone had told me that arts county fair is all about getting drunk with all the people you were too sober to speak to during the school year and simultaneously macking and discussing books, i would have gone years ago! beautiful!
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[25 Mar 2006|03:00pm] |
my band broke up
i was informed last night
by several unrelated people on
separate occasions
at the bar.
good to know.
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[21 Mar 2006|06:43pm] |
i spent my scholarship book award on an ipod today.
i am pretty much a bad person but one who is nonetheless hooked up phat.
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[03 Mar 2006|06:03pm] |
things you should buy me with your tax returns:
bookends featuring anything but horses, collies or fleurs de lis
a jewellery box with many compartments that smells like old glamour
a sexy hip flask for increased discretion
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[28 Feb 2006|11:11am] |
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i would very much like to fall in love with a permanent residence. go to bed with an area code that doesn't change and is easy to remember.
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| "pollo." |
[19 Feb 2006|09:44pm] |
costa rica is really stoked on fried chicken.
i don't get it.
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[02 Feb 2006|11:58pm] |
dear aleksandra
stop trying to be an herbal scientist. all you are doing is giving yourself the rag.
now a real professional has to fix you, you dumb bleeding bitch.
-your uterus
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| countdown to sunshine |
[29 Jan 2006|06:34pm] |
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one week. one more week of this running to the ground, endless dark and hours stolen by the promise of an end, of these aching bones wrought with cold and memory, of the politics of wintertime: who's flesh radiates the most heat and who's breath will warm these frozen hands when you are gone, your own palms sweaty pressed against the equator. of snotty tissues and nervous breakdowns, of calling in sick and meaning it. of pale tomatoes, unseasoned fruit. dim light and the death instinct. of mennonite bitches and rotten essays, of drinking to keep warm. of this sibling rivalry, of this hypochondria, of fake light and subsequent fake tans, of "hello richmond tennis club" and "table for two?" of "skateboard? ask that guy." of minimum wage and blank pages left blank, or smothered in to do lists, fragments, point-form prose. one more week of a body in revolt, of nature's retorts and the sabotage of time. of my fucking 'agenda.' what have i been doing lately? i have been holding my breath. there's a week left of this. there's a week left.
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| what i have been taught: |
[19 Jan 2006|04:45pm] |
open with dialogue.
(the slow sticky
parting of the lips
the tongue pulls itself away
from the teeth, draws back to them
like tide, ocean breath.
like a magnet that wavers and wanes.
and then, that terrible spill
of words, flowing freely
with all the characteristics of wine.
i have slipped, poured
every adverb and noun i know
into your lap. i am drenched
in all your adjectives
as we cut each other off,
almost forgivingly.
and then, the refinement
of all these syllables
and sounds into useful words,
precise and carving, like
surgical tools. we are speaking
in incisions, metaphorically
drawing back each other's flesh
to see what hides beneath
that sheath of muscle,
those ribs. we examine
each other's insides
with questions. we open
with dialogue.)
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[19 Jan 2006|02:19pm] |
Sorry, being a member of the surf club is not a good reason for missing an exam. We don't create the exam
until the day before, so you can't take it early anyway. Remember that you were warned in the September and January
syllabi not to make travel plans until exam dates were confirmed. I have turned down several people
for the same reason.
dp
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[19 Jan 2006|12:32am] |
excerpt from the email i have just sent off to my psychology professor.
looking at it again, i am beginning to think i should have used a different, perhaps more professional, approach.
"I have attatched an official letter regarding my situation which was forwarded to me from the Surf Club's president, Peter Sanford, to pass on to you, my kind and understanding Professor.
...But the complications don't end there! If you read the letter, you will see it states that I am set to depart with the club on February 10th. This is not actually the case. As the club did not manage to reserve an adequate number of tickets for the entire group, I am actually flying down alone a few days earlier than most of the group, on Sunday, February 5th. When I emailed Peter requesting some sort of document, I explained to him that the flight I had booked was at an earlier date, but I guess he disregarded that information. I suppose that I'm not the only surf-tripper with a scheduling conflict, and that a generic letter was prepared for our whole miserable lot.
Nevertheless, I am forwarding you this letter, though it must now seem somewhat irrelevant, because although the dates are not in accordance, the facts in the letter hold true for my flight as well. My ticket, too, is non-transferable and non-refundable.
The reason I have chosen to fly out earlier than the club is because a later date would have cause me much grief upon arriving in San Jose. The evening of February 10th is the absolute latest I could arrive in San Jose in order to be provided with the transportation to Mal Pais which has been paid for. If I were to arrive later, I would be responsible for getting myself to the Surf Camp, which is about 6 hours away and includes a (probably very sketchy) ferry ride. This would have to be done solo, and at my own extra expense. And as adventurous as I like to think I am, I must admit that the idea of trekking across a Central American country by my weak, blonde, Spanish-language-less female self is somewhat intimidating. Therefor, given my "condition" flying out at a later date is not really a possibility for me."
OK I AM DEFINATELY PRETTY MUCH SCREWED
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