Monday, June 14, 2004

I Am Full of Bad Ideas

Music: Modest Mouse Good News For People Who Love Bad News

Damn, I have been trying to get online all day and for some reason Internet Explorer would not navigate past Yahoo without freezing up. Man what a pain. I sent so many of those stupid little Error Reports to Microsoft they probably have a file on me.

I went out last night after work with my friend Kay and spent the day trying to not die...SICK SICK SICK and feeling inexplicably hyperbolic. I lay in bed most of the day dozing and exaggerating on paper, on the phone, in my dreams, to myself. I have these three stickers on the ceiling above my bed that say LIVE YOUR LIVE so I know what to do and why to get up, and strewn about on my bed a hundred thousand words. I am a word whore with no shame, books and zines and magazines and texts and encyclopedias and dictionaries and notepads.... Last night I went to bed with a pen in my hand and don't really remember writing this:

Maggie shocks self when she reaches to serve herself first. Fried rice. Enervated, she initiates divorce proceedings against her husband Thom. It will be 20 years till fruition.

And weird dreams....

He is upset cause he sees the word RAPE anagramed in THERAPY and the caffeine warnings on the backs of tea bags say you better hold her late into the night, and you better hold tight. He is crazy, wandered in off the street and I wont let him use the bathroom. We wrestle in the bathtub and I laugh with the cops.


I am surrounded by ghosts. Ex-boyfriends whose last names I cant remember anymore and girls who learned all about sex and love and loss right along beside me pretending we already knew, and boys whose parents phone numbers I still have memorized, and the exponential flowering of old acquaintances. Kay and Layla and Ron and Randy and Lori and Lucia and Todd and oh My God it is so my life got detoured for six years and all the sorrow and strain of life with Jason is just being sutured up by the end of THINGS AS THEY WERE with the beginning THINGS AS THEY ARE ONCE AGAIN and all that time was like an ill-advised shortcut that drops you off right where you detoured from, a seamless transition from the past to now. And a faint little bump of a scar that I run my fingers over once in awhile. Baffling memories of a dream half remembered. Eerie.


Just so you all know that I am not totally full of hogwash, no sugar means I don't add it to my coffee, and no coffee means three times a week instead of three times a day, and no alcohol means once or twice a month, though that seems, in the light of day, particularly ill-advised. Its an exercise in relativity.

And amends, I am an incorrigible mindwanderer and I look at everybodys butt. The last week I have been extra-super distraced and I am probably checking out your nice bits rather then paying attention.

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