Thursday, February 24, 2005

Full Moon Affect

Yesterday I was a near fatality in a high speed chase but I wont tell you which one I was. I might have been the one driving 70mph through a red light, I might have been the motorcycle cop with sexy kneehigh boots in hot pursuit, I might have been the screaming girl in tight running pants rolled up to her knees in the middle of the crosswalk.

killing me

That was after a black cat crossed my path, and maybe I dropped my keys in a parking lot and watched the sun glint offa them and thought about how life was short and I should drive fast more often. Or I was running down a steep hill toward a busy intersection watching the slow moving angle of the bus conceal my fast moving car. Dominos in effect. Either way I shoulda stopped and apologized.

I will give you a hint. I don't know how to drive a motorcycle. Last time I drove one I dropped it and jammed the clutch, shrugged endearingly... but not nearly endearlingly enough. That was not today.

And um, then I went home and did Linguistics homework. All I could think about as I stared at that book was how my verb was nearly modified, and all the adjectives to describe me, my life: the dangling preposition, and how eventually I would become an abstract noun.

I was shook up real good.

And its been that kind of week, just to be around it.... crisis everywhere, everyone calling in sick, calling in mean messages and old debts. Mail that made me cry in a good way, and in a bad way.

Either way, its all little-bigtown stuff and I am infamously afraid of small towns, and terrified of their family values.

I am convinced that having kids will make me grow whiskers on my chin and will for sure make me talk about flat feet too often. I might have procreated if they hadn't told me about their ruined bladders.

But that's an entirely different thing. Getting chased by the cops, everyone should have that at least once in a lifetime.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Trial By Fire

Considering my homework behindness, I have no business blogging, so I have to make it quick. superduperquick.

My friend Satia who is interpreter-like like me, is moving into my apartment to which I am sososo attached. The same day she applied her house got broken into and her change stolen and her panties strewn about cause every thieving asshead knows where you hide your valuables.

Two years ago I moved into that apartment an almost fatally fragile person, and there found what I was made of and moving on is nice but kinda sad cause that was my most favorite place I ever lived. ever.

But now I can still go there and put my feet on the furniture and drink tea.

Emmy made chocolate cake, lemon cake, cupcakes and strawberry cheesecake for my birthday and I got hyper on alcholsugar and sugarsugar.

I stayed up later then late and very far from home.
Kate drove me back in the morning.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

My Heart Flutters

Yay getting older!

Best Girl

Shattered a quart of Thai Iced Tea running out the door for school. Have bad tea luck and sticky kitchen floor. Falsified homework in the parking lot and it isn't even due till tomorrow even though I am late now. The wind blew heavy and dropped tiny pine boughs on the cold concrete. Always radiating chill, conducting wind that concrete hallway. Always shadowy and usually melancholy.

Got my capsaicin, know what hot is.

Best run in months, 8.4 miles. Felt relieved of all burden for about two hours. Think I am experiencing Endorphin Inflation. Want to go again. Want to not stop. Want nothing else. New shoes maybe.

Wasabi peas, fuzzy pants, nonmaterializing oversized sombreros, chile rellano and fried icecream. That's how you celebrate a prime number. Its a whole new year.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Love, Anonymous

Last night on the job! Nothing to report.

I should say, now that I am quit and can’t be caught, now that I can say so and safely stay an internet chimera, that recently a guy who writes a Portland blog that I read fairly regularly came into my restaurant for To-Go food and I swear to God I started sweating. I DON'T WANT IT TO BE REAL.

(I know him cause he posts pictures of himself, and even though I leave comments I don’t think he has ever read Deconstructionist (thanks a lot bucky). Anyway, even though I have been shunned I kinda secretly think I really wanna hang out with his incrowd. They're so esoteric. THEY'RE SO GODDAMN COOL.)

But I never really intended for this to be about real people, as in, my world got exponentially smaller one afternoon when I got buzzed on Yahoo messenger and I had to be reactive and dynamic and but it was like wearing psychic tight pants cause it challenged all my assertions about the internet, and made me uncomfortable with my relationship to IT.


I can’t let go of the fantasy. I mean, I I thought I had almost complete control over my readers’ access to me. It’s not well organized, mind you. I am not, nor have ever been a mastermind. But it’s the concept.

I get hung up on abstractions to a ridiculous degree and I am ridiculously easy to scare.


ANYWAY, things as they have been lately, what I have done and what I am doing…

-Cleaned my keyboard which was TOTALLY DISGUSTING and involved removing every single key and scrubbing out crumbs from as far back as 1999, and coffee and jelly and beer and wine and unknown clingy, gelatinous, glutinous, mucilaginous, pasty, resinous, sticky, tenacious, viscous, waxy, clammy, gooey, gummy, globby, gloppy, gluey, gooky, goopy, gunky, ropy, slimy, stiff, syrupy, tenacious hairy stuff that would shock and amaze you.

-Have taken to running twice a day sometimes if I can, in order to get my miles in. Not having a moment of free time, I find myself resorting to all kind of schedule contortions. Anyway my new neighborhood is less urban and has winding streets without sidewalks and lots of dead ends and trees and potholes and LOTS and LOTs of steep little hills that I love charging up like a g-damn rhino, though, maybe a wee bit more graceful. I have noticed lately that my heart rate(HR) for the same perceived rate of exertion (PRE) is slipping down to 129, 128 beats per minute. Which is a good thing but means that I have to work harder but its easier, and well... Yeah. Make sense?

-Got a birthday package two days early and was forced to promise I wouldn’t open them till my birthday... So I didn’t, really, open them...

loose tape

-Fantasized about baking cookies, was easily discouraged. Bought cookies instead, brought them to class and gave everyone Valentines with fake tattoos and was late for class for the first time this term. But I have a perfect record of getting my homework in on time. Yo.

-Dried a boatload of bananas

-Removed all the icky-sticky paper from the apartment kitchen wall that has been there for monthsandmonths since I came home after a rockstar drunk night out and ripped the wallpaper border off the wall in huge sheets cause it was ugly.

-Got studly and bold in the hardware department and got plastic wood and a little scraper thing and screws and repaired my own cupboard door all by myself.

-Copped a real attitude with the guy in the paint department but he started it, all slurky and shifty and acting like a teenager being dragged out of his room.

-Nearly died of depression in traffic with a to-do list on my lap, dirty windshield, evening sun in my eyes. I spent that afternoon watching old people drool and try to move painfully, painfully aware that I’m zooming in on my 254th birthday and inevitable mortality. Ouch

-Was revived by truffles arrived by mail, in the nick of time.

-Got up at 6am, went to class alldamnday, ran two miles on the track, changed into work clothes at the school gym, drove the entire Terwilliger Curves with my right knee all the way over the Marquam bridge and up I-84 to the 33rd street exit without using my hands except to shift gears or flick the turn signal. I just know I wont be dying in a car till the age of 34.

-I hate cars and I hate driving.

Ugly work pants, licensed driving knee

-Got off work at 10pm and called it a day. My feet hurt. Am officially unemployed. Got potted flowers for Valentines day. Got an stoopit 88% on my Linguistics final.

Think its all too much sometimes. Ugh.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Gone To Seed


I have a lot of guys like this in my life including my Dad and my bestest friend... full of uniquely masculine traits that I fine both endearing and tiring. No, exhausting.

Although he insists he is just concerned for the plants and is not looking to set up saw horses to make a dinner table, I know it would be a long and exhaustive list of failed attempts that would lead me to finally consider using chicken wire for anything inside the house.

I'm turning the manshack into an actual home, feeling all sparkly at my own girliness.

Its so novel.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Guess What?

IwonIwonIwon! I like winning!

Will I be launched into stardom in Hellman Jacksons homemade erotica? Woah!

Thursday, February 10, 2005


I survived the worst week so far... survived alive and kicking on top of the heap.
It has been wicked, averaging four hours of restless sleep, reportedly talking and tossing all night. Singing too. I'm told I sing in my sleep.

This morning I had the wickedest test of all. Linguistics. I studied for six hours last night. Was in bed by 1230am, up at 5:15 running on slick icy streets while reviewing morpheme handshapes of classifier predicates. I dont even know how to apply this stuff to my own native language.

Ran out the door a Woman In Charge and spilled scalding hot tea all over the back of my hand.

Can you believe it?

Its much better looking now. My entire hand puffed up pink and made testing a lessor priority.

But for show-and-tell everyone OOOHED and AAAHED and made sad faces for me. Now its blistered and slathered with poopy looking burn ointment.

The week was saved from worse-ness when one of the instructors admitted that she was so far behind that she wasnt going to collect any homework till next week. And So... the impossible becomes possible.

Its Thursday night and that means till noon tomorrow this time is all mine.

Saturday, February 05, 2005


I have very specific notions about who I am and when they are proven false, or even weak, I feel like someone has taken my physical body away from me. Its pretty fucking disconcerting. You start to understand how people grossly maladapt to live with extraordinary cognitive dissonance.

(i'm in a mood)

And another thing, I am just gonna say it cause I am tired of living with this secret...I DON'T LIKE ELVIS COSTELLO. OKAY!?! I think he SUX. I don't fucking like his music, his voice annoys me, his lyrics are uninteresting, he whines and those glasses aren't actually cool GDAMNIT. FASHION WENT OUT OF FASHION MAN.

awkward geeky hipsterguy

And another thing, how dare those friends of mine who stopped calling me all together tell me that I don't have time for them cause I spend all my time with the BF when they never gave me a chance to not call them in the first place, then act like I blew them off.

And to that stoopid bitchface with the badhair, YES WE ARE TRYING TO TELL YOU ITS TIME TO LEAVE WHEN WE COME AND ASK YOU IF WE CAN TAKE YOUR PLATES FOR THE TENTH TIME. The restaurant closed twenty minutes ago and even though you sit there with your fatfacefriend and talk about how waiters don't have any business acting snotty in Portland, Portland, Haha... private conversation for the benefit of those around you, and you tried to make it sound like you wuz talking about a different restaurant and we all know yer just trying to get snootified on us... but get this! Maybe you should shut up, maybe were tired, maybe we want to go home, maybe we are taking almost a double load of credits and barely getting by, and even though its Friday night we gotta go home and study more... do you think you could be generous enough to consider that four servers with hang-dog faces aren't making it their first priority to impress you into discomfort with their snootiness after closing time.

So take your selfindulgent self and the suckingalltheairoutoftheroom ego, and that little world that revolves around you, and yes, take that magnanimous afterhours tip too, shove them all into your unstylish purse along with your passiveaggressive conversation style, including the darting your eyes over at me to see if I am listening as you really hit your stride technique and get the fuck out so we can go home. Thank you. Thank you very very much.

And, um, for anyone shocked by my outburst.... well, um

feel the love

Thursday, February 03, 2005


Hellman Jackson nominated me for his Hellman's Hottest Blogger award.

My birthday is coming up so you should go vote for me!

I wisht I had more time but I have to pack Willie up and move her 'cross town (so she can start getting comfy scratching up BFs couches n' stuff). She likes to lay flat on her back like a big fat throw rug hide that, maybe was inproperly tanned.

Or you could vote for Mayim too cause she is pretty cute and even though she doesnt update often enough she is one of my favorites. I dont know any of the other bloggers...


About Me