it's go go go

When I'm asked what I do, while I'm up all night I never quite know what to say. Sometimes I'm just fighting sleep, like a sleepy child in the backseat of a long drive. Often I doze off for a few hours but once my eyes open around 6:39 AM, my mind starts to race.
"I think he owes me $20."
"Did I leave that light on? Or did one of my roommates come home?"
"I should shoot some slide film."
"I want to donate to this American Life. Will I get a free tote? I should check."
"How much is a slide projector? ...Ooh a slide scanner. Maybe I should get one of those."
"Well since I'm up, should I look at apartments?"
"Am I BECOMING MY MOTHER? I should call her. I know she's up. She's probably moving about in my little, barely lit, quiet apartment."
"Should I even bother going back to sleep..?"

I imagine her combing her hair and looking at her in the mirror. I miss her. I miss being little. I'll always miss looking up at my family members. Being so big doesn't feel so right sometimes.

That last one is usually the kicker. Then I start giving up on sleep and losing the battle to my restless mind. I'm supposed to go see a Rauschenburg exhibit. Hopefully to find some inspiration, but at least to see something beautiful. I could use that. I have to move at the end of the month. I'm terrified... kind of. I'm excited to be forced to get it together. I need to.

It was while reading the description for This American Life episode #234 that my mind stopped sleeping and began to pace the room on its own.

...including Michael Bernard Loggins, who tried to battle his fears by listing them. He ended up with a list 183 items long."

1. I am afraid of starting this list.

for once.

I love this picture of you.
My floral printed legs laying on your chest and my feet resting on your shoulders. You're looking drunk and sleepy. A polaroid. We've just argued over something assinane again, I'm sure, but as usual by now our white flags are tossed. The second man to call me "babe" and make me think of that pig movie. Thankfully, I like pigs and I like you. I'm a control freak and you're too laid back. I washed my sheets and where I used to love the scent of Tide, I'm left missing yours. Excuse me, I'm gushing.
Exhilarating as pressing my fingers into a bag of red clay: Cool to the touch. Limitless. Mine.
This is new.

like me, my purse is full of shit

The bag is a Bonnie Cashin piece from the very early 60's before she launched Coach's women's accessories line, in 1962. It hung in my mother's closet unused until I reached high school.
It's leather granules from the bottom sank into my fingernails as I dug for my keys on the way to my door. It's now 30º F out and all I want was to find them before my doorstep, but naturally they're under a mountain of my garbage. The scenario made me think of doing surprise bag dumps when I worked at Anthropologie and how I was the worst person to do it to. Had one happened today, here's what would've been found:

- This week's Star magazine. (p.s. I do not believe that B. Spears is getting beat not one bit).
- My make up bag and some lotion.
- 2 miniature bottles of Moet that a friend bought for my birthday.
- Journal
- Wallet
- Handkerchief
- 3 Pens
- 4 Packets of this AMAZING instant honey ginger tea.
- 6 bracelets
- A belt
- A ring
- Headphones
- A paycheck
- Wine opener

oh and an Iphone car charger because even though I don't drive, you just don't know when your phone is going to die in the middle of an impromptu roadtrip to Maryland.

I'm really big on "just in case" accessory packing.

"it's the personality that really shines through"

so maybe I'm thinking this over too much but within 60 seconds of this speech, one woman mentally excuses herself to have a smoke. All of guests legs are crossed (as a physical sign of disinterest). Someone off screen disputes his theory, which he rebuttals with an MIT-speech reference... yet somehow I've found myself mentioning him time and time again because I think the Mystery method works. At least in reverse-




Is he the only sober person in the room? Maybe. Is he with 3 women and speaking about pawning other women off like objects? Maybe. ARE HIS NAILS POLISHED BLACK? (yes).


this man is a millionaire.

i did however, clean my room.

i almost prayed last night.



so i wonder what happens now-


that i decided against it.

tyler, you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

i'm not in every self-portrait i take, but i am. i didn't socialize enough this summer, so fall friends get ready we're going to chill hard. and do your make-up, i have a photo wall to fill with your wonderful faces.

II.
i am a server in a local casual dining restaurant. my least favorite question is, "so what do you do?" when i'm clearly at my job. it's so looked-down upon to be a waitress; people always assume that you're just doing it to get by as something else. what do i do besides stand next to tables and pour wine? i stand around in limbo thinking of what to do next. i disappoint. i astound. sometimes, i do nothing.

III.
My sister spoke of going back to school post-college and I laughed at her. I told her I never wanted to go back to school. I may have been in junior high school at the time. Now that I'm struggling to find some sort of professional direction, all i want to do is go hole myself up in a darkroom with professors to teach me important things, internship fairs and CAREER DEVELOPMENT CENTERS. College students are idiots for the most part- which would explain why so many of my cohorts ended up bartenders or servers, and subsequently, constantly under the influence of something. Yes, that's a nice way to say it, right?

freewrite over.