| How many memories can you fit into a tank top? |
[Nov. 9th, 2005|11:45 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | sage francis | ] |
A few hours before now I was looking through the garage for a red box. My mom told me it was in there and that it was filled with fabric that I could make a skirt with. I never found the red box because 5 seconds after my search began I saw baby Meagan, the doll I'd received one Christmas when I was about 2 years old. If there were a hierarchy of dolls in my room baby Meagan would have been the king. I felt like the kid from "The brave little toaster" when he discovers BRL as an adult, except baby Meagan is much better than an old appliance.
Immediately, I picked her up, stripped off her dirty dress and threw the doll and the dress into the washing machine.
I went back to investigate the box of stuff that she'd been laying in and found several interesting items, some of them ravaged by rats.
There where my blue leather shoes from the Renaissance festival 6 years ago, several books, most of them humorous, art supplies, a framed "on this day in history" from April 9th, 1984,a small stack of birthday cards and a large manila envelope that appeared to be filled with a past relationship. I started taking stock of the contents when I noticed fragments of dried flower petals all over the floor; the rats had made a hole in the corner of the envelope and my elderly prom corsage had seen better days.
There were a lot of letters, some pictures of him or the both of us, a homemade ticket for one free road trip, prom invitations and drawings, and tapes. It was a long distance relationship and having been a seasoned veteran of long distance relationships of varying types I had come up with the idea of making vocal letters. Probably from watching several episodes of "Felicity".
I have several thoughts while looking through the envelope:
"man, we made more tapes than I remember" "I’ll probably never listen to them again, it would probably be uncomfortable to hear thoughts of love from him now and anything else would be old news" "hmm, I wonder if I could still cash in this road trip ticket..." and "I guess I could put it all in a box and save it for my declining years".
The last thought is one I've had a few times. As I said, I’ve known a few long distance relationships; friendships included and have stocked up many, many letters. All of them are unique and hold specific memories, some of which I don't want to revisit by reading them again. I've grown past a few of the sentiments, and the relationships I have with these people now has evolved from what it was in high school. But I don't want to throw the letters away, so what do I do?
Well, if you’re in the same boat then listen up because I’ve got a solution! If you’re familiar with the time capsule idea then this idea will seem...more familiar. So what you do is, you get a big plastic container, put everything you want to keep but don't have room for and bury it in the back yard. Or a park or a big field as long as your sure there won't be something built on top of it in the next 20 years. Then write yourself a note and put it somewhere so you won't forget, and that’s important.
Now just wait till you feel the urge to relive your days of youth with better accuracy than your mind can produce on it's own. |
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| a firm truth |
[Oct. 21st, 2005|10:19 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  satisfied | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | you've got a friend-louie armstrong | ] |
if you can't be a good example, you have an obligation to be a horrible warning |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 14th, 2005|08:02 pm] |
h1>LJ Interests meme results</h1>
- big dogs:
Someday I hope to own a St.Bernard but only when I live somewhere less hot. - drinking:
yup - goose bumps:
whoooaaw! - kissing:
mmmmm - lovering:
mmMMMMMMmmmm - music:
Music is a good interest to have, it's so diverse and touches preactically everyone in different ways. - photography:
Getting the right shot, developing the film and sticking my hands in smelly chemicals is good. - reading:
I love reading. If everything else went to hell I would still have you, books. - spirituality:
spirituality is an interesting idea to me at this point. i've gone to really appreciating being spiritual to questioning it's purpose and necessity. probably will do a 360 but we'll see how far it goes. - traveling:
It's funny how many things you can take with you from childhood...traveling is really important to me, I see it as a big part of my growth, just like
Enter your LJ user name, and 10 interests will be selected from your interest list.
writing. |
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| ghnzzzzzzzzzz |
[Oct. 14th, 2005|07:50 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  frustrated | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | parents talking | ] |
I had two margaritas and I feel drunk. which means if i feel drunk, my mom is really really drunk.
I made lentil curry tonight. I think I've somehow become a superior chef. Is it that i'm less lazy and therefore less likely to take terrible shortcuts? I need no recipes, I somehow know things about cooking I never knew before. this is enough, this is too much, this needs rice, this needs yogurt somehow i'm not burning things or making things soggy. it's awesome. I've cooked every night for the past two weeks.
On another note, I feel restless and sort of exasperated and impatient. |
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| Women should wait like untainted flowers |
[Oct. 12th, 2005|10:47 am] |
Maggie: And no self respecting hot girl would be with a misogynist.
Zane: There's no such thing as a self-respecting hot girl.
Maggie: hmm
Maggie: I guess once you find out you aren't made for man alone, you stop wearing so much makeup
Maggie: its like graduating highschool |
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| Could I say something to make you stay |
[Oct. 11th, 2005|02:44 pm] |
LJ Interests meme results
- could:
would - curiosity:
interest - except:
but - i:
you - make:
create - nothing:
something - say:
speak - stay:
go - would:
should - you:
i
Enter your LJ user name, and 10 interests will be selected from your interest list.
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| sightings |
[Oct. 11th, 2005|02:39 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | hopeful | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | lake of fire-nirvana | ] |
Number of Unicorn sightings today: 1 this morning |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 4th, 2005|01:22 pm] |
I worry, but only in the way i know to worry. That is, to contemplate the problem and look for the solution.
This works well when I'm trying to help myself, or when the problems are surface, but when it comes to helping others with thier real problems and real struggles in life, I just come off like a know it all.
Is it that deep down some people mostly want to feel pain, feel brought down, feel unhappy? without drama are thier lives too boring or obvious?
Long ago we established that ALL terrible feelings come from fear. thats where it starts. people break up, which is looked at as bad, since it's the end of something. But what if it was just time? why do you have to be angry to leave? is there a gap in understanding each other?
I could dismiss my lack of understanding other peoples ongoing problems by saying that I've never really had a big problem in my life. But that'd be bullshit, cause i have.
My parents nearly got a divorce due to a highly scandalus affair on the part of one parent. that sucked crap and in the same year i changed schools for the 8th time in my 15 years. I had a hard time making real friends and my hair was frizzy.
Does that mean thats something I should be sad about forever? I guess maybe it was easier to learn and move on from that because my parents ended up working through it, coming out happier than ever.
So, maybe my issues aren't that bad. And the ones I've struggled with in the past I chose to contemplate and write about, rather than share. sharing wouldn't have been wrong, but i guess i didn't want to hear what other people thought about my relationship with aaron or john or why i still dress like i'm in highschool.
I learned somewhere along the way not to let myself get sucked into other peoples problems. But what if those people are with you for life and thier problems, over time, have become clear to you. You've thought about them at night, turning over thier mysteries in your head time and again. writing down possible solutions. writing down reasons why they might not have any issues at all, really.
But if they don't then why do they seem so unhappy.
why, when they see the way to achieving balance, to they dismiss it as being too difficult or painful. Won't it be more painful to have a lifetime of extreme ups and downs rather than one period of difficulity? |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 10th, 2004|01:26 pm] |
need money to leave auckland to save money to make money.
to see warm beaches. |
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| this heres a song for all the fellas |
[Oct. 3rd, 2004|01:10 pm] |
oi ja
My cousins wedding last night was easily the best family event I have ever attended. We were all so obviously related to each other, everyone had blond hair, we were all loud as hell, and we were all first in line when the buffet was opened.
Not to mention, when the DJ started, we were the only people up there shakin it to every fast song. and we knew the words;baby got back, shoop, what a man, bust a move, love shack, celebrate, oohh yes, we knew.
on top of that, there was champagne, and of course my cousin laura snuck in vodka to share with the rest of the ladies, although i think i was really high on adrenaline from dancing like there was no tommorow.
And halfway through bust a move, this guy, this cute guy that looked like the only guy i'd have anything in common with, came dancing up to me, and asked me (with whiskey line breath) if my name was hillary. so i gave him the look, as if to say, no i am not hillary. so he danced away.and then he came back during shoop, and just plain started daning around in an extremely geeky way. but it was funny and he had a gay best friend there who was very nice and not drunk. he told me that he was 24 and living...with his parents. he made a face. i said thats cool, i'm 20 and i live with my parents. so then we danced around a little and i told his friend what i knew, fact checking. he said yes, that was true, except he left out the part about just coming back from Peace corps. ahhh yes. that would have been good to mention.
At any rate, they were alot of fun, and we joked around for a while, and then my brother yelled my name so i had to go and he asked me "so do uh you have like a uh cell phone number or something?" and i reminded him that i was moving to New Zealand, and woefully gave him a hug good bye and said "maybe in another life we would have dated for a long time, and maybe even had babies"
his friend laughed, and he looked a little frightend and gave an "oh wow".
i dunno if he's just the kind of guy who is easily impressed or shocked, or if thats saved for when he's drunk.
so then i smoked some pot with my cousin on the way to my brothers car. and then i came home and ate a banana. and then i had dreams about being friends with vampires who couldn't control themselves and could only be kept back with Purell hand sanitizer or this herbal balm, both of which wear off quickly.
it had be on edge all night. lost of tossing and turning in my sleep.
and today, i move to Austin, and then to NZ. and i better finish packing |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 1st, 2004|11:42 pm] |
For some reason, I get incredibly annoyed when people ask me questions about New Zealand.
I don't think it's because the same people keep asking me the same questions over and over. That might be because I'm usually vague on the answer. but it is what it is. why must there be such an extreme purpose for things we do. i want to go to Maine. I go to Maine.
why why why.
I want to go to New Zealand, I'm going to New Zealand.
But why why why. what is the purpose?
the purpose is to experience. I hope that is good enough.
It is to decide where i want to make my life, how i want to make it.
there are many options, many lives out there. the one here isn't one i want, so there must be one that fits. |
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| Just mulling things over |
[Sep. 24th, 2004|03:05 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Iron and wine- such great heights | ] |
Its like...i got this vase. and i didn't want the vase to break.
out of all the little things i owned and loved, the vase was the one that was most precious.
and then the vase fell of the table, and it didn't break, but it did crack.
its just got a little crack it. but it didn't break, so its ok. it sucks, its not what i wanted to have happen to the vase, but its still there, its still useable.
no problem little vase, its going to be ok. |
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| Write this down |
[Mar. 5th, 2004|09:41 pm] |
I had this great night with Hart last night.
For a few rare hours we had the apartment to ourselves and made use of it by frolicking around naked with the windows open. we watched The Birds and ate rice and had a jolly good time.
Ed called after a while though, and gave news that John (my roommate) was extremely drunk and causing problems. it seems that John was talking very loudly in a quiet neighborhood, and had broken a few glasses by falling on them. the person living in the house asked ed to take john home, and ed, being an understaning guy responded by trying to get a screaming john into the car. john reciprocated by simultaneously struggling and declining at the top of his voice that he didn't want to get in the car, thank you, but would like to walk instead. it took 4 people to finally get him in, and for all the wondering in the world i don't see why they didn't lock the door. doing so would have prevented john from jumping out while ed was driving. Ed valiantly tried to get him back in, but again john loudly declined, over and over and over. (john tends to get repeditive when he is drunk) and then he ran away.
so ed went back to the party to get Lola, his friend, so he could take her home (she hadn't wanted to ride in the car with john).
on their way they saw a guy having a conversation with two policement from the roof of thier car. ed swore it was john.
when he came back to the apt. we deliberated about what to do, and decided there really wasn't anything since the police had him now. we just hoped he wasn't in jail.
our worries were rested somewhere between 2 AM and 3, when john stumbled through the door and fell into bed with Hart and I. His skin felt cold as he hurredly explained what happened: the police dropped him off, and things had gotten so fucked for a while. he repeated the last thing over and over again, alcohaul blending with his breath. we do what we always do when John is drunk and laying with us (which is not often)give him a rub on the shoulder and ask him if he's ok. he usually give us a hug back, and lays still long enough to make us wonder if he's fallen asleep. then he stands up and says goodnight.
``````````````````
every now and then i think of what i'm doing, living with john and hart. is this playing house? is that not what all people do at first, before the game becomes your life?
at night when look at Harts face through the darkness I think of how i love him, and how, in the past it was so hard for me to truely love someone, because i knew what true love felt like. when i say it now, i don't feel like a liar. i don't need to define what kind of love it is, or measure out how much i can give before it infringes on my secret.
But sometimes, when i look at his face, and hear his breathing, i also reflect on my relationship with paul. my feelings for him are constant, and my love for him is never ending, but the boundaries we were held by are gone now, cut by a shared thought, and the right timing in our lives.
i don't know how to end this except to say that the night we talked about loving other people was the night i cut of the necklace he made me.I'd sworn to wear it till it fell off. it was only made of floss, but it'd held strong for 2 years and, metephorically, showed no signs of breaking. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 13th, 2004|11:46 pm] |
now! things are already brighter, and its only been a few hours.
4 hours or so.
matt called me and stopped on by, so we talked about New York and i told him the story anthony told the tejas group in the bar.
laughs were had by all!
then colin called and i invited him to join the fun.
so john colin and steg came trooping in, smoked a bit, talked a little, and when it seemed like the conversation was lagging, i popped out my secret weapon.
UNO.
so we played that for 2 hours,one hour per game.
then colin and steg went to smoke and matt went else where.
and i started a conversation with john that went like this:
me:so how are things with your girlfriend?
he:not really.
me:umm, oh, no i asked how your girlfriend was but..
he:i guess that answered both your questions
me:yes.
anyway that killer convo lead to a talk about what makes a relationship and weather or not its hard to be in love.
i said it wasn't really that it was hard to be in love, but that once you are in love, for some reason things take a serious turn, which can make big issues out of nothing. which is something im not interested in.matt joined us, and they both really had great perspectives, since both have been in relationships for over 2 years.
i think i made my desicion.
i think i really made it a while ago.
but i didn't like what i'd decided. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 13th, 2004|11:45 pm] |
events, in no particular order:
parents piano store burned down
i went to new york spent 140 dollars while there, 42 on bus ticket
had a great wonderful amazing time
on the ride home i thought about my financial situation
this made me want to run back home and not pay rent for a while
geoff and i are on a break
for a month
upon arriving in portland, i waited in the fucking FREEZING cold, for a bus that did not come.i gave up when all of my everything started hurting badly. called joe.
start new job tommorow
gave myself a rather fucked up haircut with a pair of really shabby scissors
need to get all money owed to me in order to even slightly make it with rent, classes and car repair
trying to sell car, can't afford insurance/gas/breakdowns/sliding around on black ice into children
bleached and dyed my hair red
drank every night in new york.stomach hurts now.
not having a car means its unlikely i will go far living at 62 Alba. which means i have to move to the city. which means a good portion of hassel. and deposits.
wondering why i insisted on bringing ALL of my movies with me.
hungry but fatter from candy and french fries.stomach hurts.
zero degree weather and below hits.painful wind decides to jump on the band wagon.
meg cries 1000 tears, nearing depression. |
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| death and life |
[Dec. 19th, 2003|02:14 am] |
Walking forward through the trodden snow, the girl thought of where she was going and what she was supposed to do once she arrived. She’d promised her mother that she’d visit, but now somewhat regretted giving her word. Her grandmother was a fine person, she had nothing against her, but she’d rarely seen granny when she was alive, much less buried under dirt and snow.
What was the point, she wondered? Granny wouldn’t know, or if she did, she wouldn’t care so much/ the girl doubted that the actions of the living would be the biggest thing weighing on the mind of a dead person. But who knew really, what happened to you once you died. All she knew was what happened to the living once a person died.
And that was, that they recognized the passing said so long, and went back to what they had been doing. Logically, she didn’t see the point of mourning really. Perhaps if they were a big part of someone’s life, so that things were very different now. But really, everyone thinks that when they die, everyone will come from out of the woodwork, all the people they had ever met in their lives would remember how the were touched, and know that they just HAD to come to the funeral, no matter what. That crowds of people would swarm into a tattoo parlor and demand to have the face/name/date of birth of the dead tattooed forever onto their bodies.
But the truth was, the girl thought as she stepped over a bank of snow, passing the fence into the cemetery, was that people would do what was convenient to their lives. Your teacher from third grade is not going to jump on a plane and tell anyone who has ears about the time you wrote a love note to her. Seriously. Death was just an event. You say, “oh that’s too bad” and you lead on like nothing happened, except now you have some sad story to tell at parties, because really, nothing did. Not even to the dead person. They are dead. They have other fish to fry. Its just another step, like graduating from high school or getting a divorce.
With that thought in mind, the girl stopped where she was (which was in front of a random grave near the gate she came in) and looked at the flowers her mother gave her to lie on grannies grave. She looked at the head stone, then the flowers, then thought “I have a life to lead, and I’m not going to do something that makes no difference in the end” and dropped the blooms onto the snow. Then she turned heel triumphantly, slipped on an unseen but rather large patch of ice, hovered in the air for a millisecond and dashed her skull into the road, dying instantly.
And life moved on without her. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 3rd, 2003|11:12 pm] |
chapped lips
cracked sips
from a dusty drink
madness burning redness
bleeding troubles breeding deep
these lips
can;'t spout quips
can't drop tips
can only think
desert dryness
gives you shyness
the mouth hurts too much to speak
what you need is some relieving
medicated for your lips
waxed and creamy
for your comfort
flavored wetness
in a stick. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 1st, 2003|12:48 pm] |
im going NUTS!
im tired, and im tired of having no one to really talk to.
im tired of break outs.
tired of working.
tired of stupid Wild Oats.
im tired of drama.
of never having enough time.
of it taking an hour to get anywhere.
of bull pucky.
i have to catch the bus.
foul! |
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| for thought its not |
[Nov. 23rd, 2003|10:28 am] |
Pot is not food, or wood, or mood.
Smoke you could...
But stop you should...
Or else you would...
End up, not good.
-Kimmi Brown
chris, what do you want for christmas. |
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