bear City

i wear red lipstick around the house. just for shits and giggles, as my sister would say. sometimes it's to motivate me to get out of my room. sometimes, it's to make me feel better about staying in. most of the time it's about feeling like a lady, when i don't.

I was supposed to go to a wedding reception/party occasion thing tonight, but no matter the amount of red lipstick i applied, I couldn't find myself filled with the desire to "dress up." On my days off, i am most comfortable in jeans, a low-cut t-shirt, a hoody, my leather jacket and boots. END OF STORY. I've conditioned myself to think that "bad-ass" is "sexy" and i don't like to vary. Granted I love me a summer dress or 7, at the end of the day I'm cut-offs, not curtsies.

Instead of the burlesque-wedding-extravaganza, i landed myself on a couch (in my cut-offs and boots) with 2 and 1/2 gays and Meg Ryan all night. Long story short, the next graphic T you'll find me in is going to read "sorry boys, I only date Bears."

Okay fine, we watched Bear City too.

edit: that picture is way bigger than I thought it would be.

banditos

All I want is to be in my bed. Right now. Not riding on a bus, with a relentless sinus headache. I want to be sitting on the new couch Jess and I stumbled upon (she spotted it, but hell if I didn't take her to the store). I need to get my feelings in order. I probably need to get some feelings. I know I'm a sympathetic person but I think I'm missing the ability to conjure up... Sexual sympathy? Empathy?

Here's something I wrote over brunch with myself the other day. Slightly personal, but what isn't?

My mind is completely racing and I don't have my journal so I can't write a thing down. Called my mom today- someone tried to break in. I'm worried and mad at her for not- I don't even know what I'm mad at her for. I just want so much better for her. She wont accept help but has no way to really provide for herself. Name. Name. Names. My "love life" is stagnant and circular. The lunch I'm getting is too expensive and won't satisfy me. Im cutting and dying my hair tomorrow morning. I have spring fever. 

My lunch was actually delicious. Somewhere around the time it arrived I decided to start recording the room. The sounds are so cluttered- I feel very relaxed. I don't want to go to work today. I want to go visit people and wander the streets the way normal people do on Saturday's. Find a flea market; find a find (catch me a catch!). I don't want to be loveless again this summer. I want a companion- Yeah I miss him. 

The loud church outside his bedroom window. The long talks about our lives, our futures, our present-days. I miss looking at his body and him seeing mine, without attraction or sexuality, but just comfort. I miss the comfort. That's what I most enjoyed about being with him. Though it's a characteristic not unique to him, he didn't try to figure me out or see through my thick skin bullshit. He just let me be, as I tried to do for him. 

When people say his name there's always some sting to the statement or sharp taste to the tone, but whatever it is, it makes me smile. 

Lunch is almost over. I have finish up this wine and walk back home. I'm going to keep thinking the entire way there. That full moon did a number on me. It always seems to have it's way with my heart.

Yeah.

24

i saw a photo of an attractive man tonight. he had a few tattoos and for the first time ever, i wished to see someone with tattoos, without them.
i found them to be a bit distracting from his beauty.


this is getting older, isn't it?

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.