I wont post the link every time people so book mark it. There was a lot of confusion last month. The magazine is LOTL International and you click on the little magazine in the right hand corner. (Also there is a link in my Blogroll for those of you who can’t see the links in this post)
OK I am guilty of blaming a lot of things that don’t sit well with people on my Americaness. Like for example last night I went to a poetry reading. Some of the poets were amazing, whereas some were well…not. So I used the blanket of my Americaness to explain my disdain–I am unnecessarily snobby. I just have to get used to the Australian accent doing hip hop. I also need to get off my high horse since I never would get up there. But seriously one guy was too trashed to make it through his whole poem.
The saving grace of the night was a friend of mine who performed and the feature poet Bravo Child. I would elope with Bravo Child if I could, He was amazing. He read this one love poem that is probably the best love poem I have ever heard. And my friend won the slam competition ($50.00). That is the most exciting part of my week.
So yeah I am on holiday…I have work to do but my brain is fried. I just need to recover. So the aforementioned situation from the last post I went ahead and sent the ‘what’s up?’ email. I don’t know why I even pretended like I wasn’t going to do it. I can’t help myself, I am ridiculously curious. Plus on the off chance that I have some fatal flaw that I don’t know about, I would like to be aware. I have all this anxiety now, which actually enabled me to clean things…
I am realizing it is too much to have a Facebook boy harem. Especially when the ones you don’t really want to see start saying things like ‘visit’ and ’soon.’ Meh. I need to drink some coffee and think about other shit. I got up late today yet I am still exhausted.
Final papers done (yay). I got trashed that night. It was fun except the random guy who stuck his tongue in my mouth after talking to me for an hour about his wife and kids. I was too drunk to kick him in the balls…
Anyway, I got some new clothes from my sister (woot). (This is a bracket heavy post). I went out last night in one of my new dresses and I looked hott (hot enough for two t’s) if I may say so myself. I also survived the whole night in four inch heels which amazed me. This pleased my sister and mom who don’t think I can be a real girl until I go out in pain.
Other than that I have been having dirty dirty internet chats with boys on MSN messenger. It is a really entertaining activity for me as a writer. I just try to see how far I can push the envelope. I would be crap at phone sex, but amazing at sex chat, apparently boys are sort of easy to please.
How did I get here? Well I was talking to this guy online every day for almost a month (in a normal way not a dirty way). We talked about things that people don’t tell each other for years. He had planned to visit (he lives like 12 hours away). Then he wanted to come down with his ex (um wait what?). She apparently isn’t over him but they are friends. This is where things got complicated and weird. First he was saying when he came down he was going to see friends and something about being a single guy out on the town… Then he said that none of his friends liked his ex. And that he is not the type to go and pickup. Then he said that his friends might not have time for him. So then I was like why is he coming down? For some reason he couldn’t just say part of the reason he wanted to come down was to see me. I didn’t need him to be like “I planned to trip for you,” but I also didn’t need him to be like ‘maybe we’ll hang out…’ I felt like he either just had trouble saying no to his ex when she asked him, or he wanted to have a backup route in case he and I didn’t get along. Either way it was odd to me. Who goes to meet someone they are talking to with their ex in tow?
When I started to ask about stuff he dropped out of emailing me all of a sudden. It’s too bad because I could have liked him. It is not like I wanted him to elope with me or anything. I just wanted us to be honest with each other. If you are emailing someone epic emails every day, sometimes twice a day, and chatting with them for hours, it is not weird to say I want to see you…Also what is with people giving me the silent email treatment and then sending me applications on Facebook?
It sounds like it’s not a big deal and it isn’t really. Maybe a little disappointing. I guess the way he is is a little too familiar to me. Like that response combined with other things he says. I am so over being the honest direct vulnerable person, while the other person is acting nonchalant. So I have just started talking to other boys. I am not really interested in them, but I guess I am trying not to internalize the drop in conversation. And just trying to move on. Besides it is sort of fun to make random guys around the world cream their pants just by things you are typing.
Oh my god I have found love for real this time…
I love this little baby polar bear. It fills me with happy to watch this video.
Mom left her banana peel in my room for ‘the time being’ because she is afraid to go into the kitchen. I don’t blame her, we just got a new really inconvenient flatmate. One singular mouse has been the source of many sleepless nights in this household lately. I haven’t gotten a real bed yet, so my mattress on the floor makes me feel pretty vulnerable (also can I just say this whole sleeping on the floor thing really impacts my cool points). So I have been on my computer till the wee hours of the morning trying to stay awake. I feel like the moment I close my eyes the mouse will come skip into bed with me. Yes I know that the mouse is a tiny being and is more afraid of me then I am of it. But at night when the lights are out and I hear it rustling about it creeps me out. I don’t even know how the little bastard got in the house.
We found out that mice don’t like the smell of mint so mom doused our rooms in minty essential oil, to the point of nausea. That worked for a day, but now Fred (I’ve decided he is a Fred) is back. Even though I am an unabashed meat eater I don’t want to kill Fred. Especially since we don’t have mousetraps so any killing we would do would be in some creepy barbaric medieval fashion.
Anyway I don’t know what to do about Fred, so I am just trying to do work. I am still working on my first paper. I can’t get it done. I have 1400 words left. I think with fatigue it gets snarkier and snarkier. I have a feeling I will have to develop a fierce persona to back up this paper. However, that still wont prevent my adviser from wanting to harpoon me in the chest.
I spend way too much time on Facebook. It is the dorkiest thing. It makes me feel… oh about fifteen. When me and the guy I have been emailing admitted to liking each other it was through one of the “Do You Like Me?” applications. I never expected to be this cheesy in my old age. I also have been chatting with random guys from France and Turkey, but I am not serious about them. It is a safe thing for me since I will never see them so I can say whatever I want. Plus I think I already mentioned that I have a big nose fetish and all these guys have really great noses, It’s kind of entertaining to chat with someone who has sort of broken English flirting techniques.
Ah but you know what I am doing right now…fucking procrastinating again. I will exit this non sequitur post with a link to Vicki who is still hot after all these years…
I’m a really good girlfriend, no seriously I am. I may not be so great at always washing the dishes but I am constantly nurturing my partners dreams and self esteem. So I am good where it counts. No one has to doubt my feelings for them. I am caring and I give, give, give. Which is part of the problem. My relationships get this special place on a pedestal and I spend so much time making sure my partner is happy, that I lose myself. My most recent relationship I realized on the outset all the things that I thought were cool about my partner, sense of style, music, humor creativity were all things that I had in myself. Not only that, In many ways I give my uniqueness away to people. So now 65 lbs. lighter and living across the world, I finally am returning to the amazing person I used to be. This has come to mind because I have been reminded a lot this week to not lose myself in my next relationship.
And who knows when that will be, or what that will look like. I met someone recently online who seems cool, but you never know till you meet someone in person. I keep finding myself with people who want me to risk and be vulnerable but aren’t willing to go there themselves. Not saying this is the case in this situation, but that is what I am wary of. I don’t want my still precarious sense of self to topple. I fear this post is vague. I can’t write the same this week. I am feeling self conscious and my thoughts are this muddle. Like I said in the last post I have been feeling more and more exposed. This is just something I have to deal with if I want to be a published writer. I think it grates against the Scorpio in me to have no more secrets.
I am feeling weird about liking someone I never met, about being excited about their future visit. I am supposed to be nonchalant but I am not. And I have these conversations with my mother that show how completely insane I am. I nuerose over the following: he will think I am fat (huge issue in my mind for some godforsaken reason no matter how much weight I lose-thanks dad for giving me the lifelong complex), next I worry that it will be too awkward, but mostly I worry that for whatever reason the other person will decide it’s not working and either a. blame the entirety of the failure on me–like the last guy I dated or b. drop off the face of the earth with no explanation. I don’t really keep in mind that I may not like them, which is a possibility.
It is enough to make me not want to bother with the whole thing. But I am fighting the immature urge to call the whole thing off. And I just have to keep reminding myself that I am better than this. I don’t need the approval or validation of others, I don’t need a relationship and I don’t need to be so hard on myself all the time. But that is easier said then done.
Rilke In the book Letters to a Young Poet said something to the effect that you know that you are a writer if you would die if you couldn’t write. Pretty fucking emo and dramatic, but true. I would die if I couldn’t write. Even now when my mom yet again busted me on my bullshit today, I have to fucking write about it so I don’t sit here beating myself up about it. Well why lie, I will do that regardless. I already am playing the fucking depressing music and being silent and moody in my room.
So reference the last post, aforementioned situation with friend. I am guilty in two ways 1. I should have never ever gotten involved with showing interest in a guy my friend was interested in. That was shady and it goes to show girls can stupidly think with their clits like boys think with their penises. 2. I should have never then published the story after. What was I thinking? I was thinking about myself and not really seeing past my friend saying it was ok. It’s not ok. How could it be? But it’s done now and I can’t take it back. All I can do now is try to heal things.
It is dangerous being a writer. It constantly gets me into horrible or awkward situations, but I still have to do it. It’s like breathing. And sometimes I use my writing as a weapon. The poetry paper I am writing right now may manage to make my adviser hate me for the remaining semester, yet I can’t fucking help myself. It’s like I have the devil in me. I actually have this line in the paper, ‘This video featured a dreadfully boring room full of older white men having masturbatory discussions about poetry.’ Which is in reference to a video one of the visiting poets showed. This poet happens to also be one of the adviser’s friends. But I am writing it anyway…Therefore asking for it.
This week I have been writing papers, epic emails, blog entries and trying to compose something for work. Meanwhile trying to think of my next column and also of things I can publish in other publications. I eat breathe and sleep writing. I get nervous because people read my blog and feel like they know me, and the truth is they do. But I am often at a disadvantage because I don’t know them.
I am never going to stop blogging, but the way I blog it’s like walking around naked all the time. Fuck here I am world a nuerotic masterpiece. I never have pretended to have the answers to anything despite my arrogance about various subjects. I am just here stumbling through my life. I wont stop writing but I have to do things differently…check in with my intention with what I put out in the world. I have to especially as a memoir writer.
It’s a given that when I write my memoirs my philandering father and my abusive first step mother will be thrown under the bus, I mean they just will. But anyone who beats the crap out of a child for years and years because their husband cheats on them deserves to be thrown under a bus. Having said that I have to show a balanced perspective. It’s obvious from my last statement I don’t know how to do that right now. But we are all human, we all make mistakes, and like me everyone is stumbling through life doing the best with the skills they have. And my pain isn’t the only pain or the most important.
Jesus… this paper writing is like pulling teeth. I cleaned my room today, therefore we know I am procrastinating. I am nervous to listen to the Binaural Beats to help me concentrate since the commenter on the ‘Music To My Ears’ post said I could mess up my brain. Awesome, like I need more of that. God knows I already have no short term memory. What was I talking about?
I don’t know what is with the God and Jesus in this post. Perhaps I am feeling the need to be sacreligious. I was reading my friends kink blog. It makes me feel like a boring vanilla. Why vanilla? Why can’t my non-kink sex life (if I had a sex life) be called caramel or chocolate and cherries…mmm. Now I want Ben and Jerry’s which isn’t available here.
Ok now what I really want to talk about. My mother is driving me crazy. Now I am not here to cast her in a bad light, she is an amazing person…who is driving me crazy.
1. She consistently is upset with how I dress. ‘You’re almost thirty Denieal, you can’t dress like a child forever…’ Apparently when you are anywhere near thirty it is no longer acceptable to wear tennis shoes. Thing is when I am not at work all I wear are t-shirts and jeans and converse. Today I even put my lip piercing back in. The only thing that makes me still look girly is the fact that I am a prissy bitch who doesn’t leave the house without make up. But seriously her constant protests to my wardrobe actually make me want to throw a tantrum like I child. She almost had me going out to a club with dress slacks and a wrap top.
‘Mom I look like I am going to work.’
‘You look classy.’
‘I don’t want to look classy mom. I am going to a club. I want to look like a slut.’
‘Sigh.’
That last part was obviously for dramatic effect. I just put a singlet and jeans on. Anytime I actually dress like a slut I feel self conscious.
2. She insists on cleaning things in my room. Usually I am fairly clean. In times of high stress (i.e. 10,000 words looming over my head) I tend to make my room into an impenetrable fortress. Surely anyone who would try to come in my room would break their neck on piles of books and shoes.
3. Everything gets the same scream. My mom usually screams when she needs me, which is fine, I know getting up is a challenge. However she issues the same shrill “Denieal!” whether she needs me to bring her water, look at something interesting on the internet, talk to my sister on the phone and if she is actually hurt or needs help. I am not amused. Every time I come running, stumbling over every blessed thing only to usually do something quite regular.
4. She always makes me check in with my morals and be a good person. Checking in with my intentions and doing the right thing on the surface is seemingly a good thing. Thing is sometimes I don’t want to be good. Not to be cheesy, but sometimes I want to be bad. Sometimes I want to not have every situation be a lesson. It’s heavy the burden of morals and responsibility. Sometimes I want to go back to be that irresponsible pot smoker on 58th street…Recently I did the right thing by a friend, influenced by my mother, it’s actually the fodder for my next column. (sorry this is going to be a spoiler) See I have a near and dear friend who used to? maybe still does? like this guy. They have known each other forever and a day. But whenever she hinted that she might fancy him what followed was a list of why they couldn’t date. Later she repeatedly said she didn’t like him. Meanwhile I have hung out with said guy a couple times and really didn’t want to admit to myself that I liked him. I am almost 98% sure neither my friend nor the guy will read this. However, since it is going to be in a publication (which I got permission to write from said friend) I can’t stress about this.
So anyway a party happens I’m drunk, boy is drunk, friend is drunk. Early in the party in the beginning of his drunkenness boy was loudly observing how ‘fucking hot’ I was. It was sort of awkward because no one else was drunk, and he just sort of randomly interjected it. Later in the evening he said to a friend as I walked up ’speaking of hot’. So finally later on I asked him ‘did you mean what you said?’ to which he responded ‘Yeah…pfft have you looked at yourself?’ We were then interrupted by other partyers coming to attend to the music.
So I go to talk to friend–we are both drunk. I tell her about what has happened and then ask if she was still interested in boy. She vehemently insists no and encourages me to go for it, even trying to talk to boy who was too trashed to understand anything. I try to talk to him but give up pretty soon when I realize he is taking care to not be in a room at the same time as me.
So on to the next day. I felt immensely awkward about the whole thing. But friend, boy and me had breakfast and all seemed back to normal. (during the morning he somehow managed to slip my hotness into the conversation twice.)
I get home and tell mom about the evening. I feel weird because I was interested in boy, but I was worried that he was saying ‘you’re hot’ the way gay men say it to their girlfriends…Anyway I didn’t get a chance to really ruminate on it too much before mom points out that to get involved with boy means I might lose a friend. ‘Because she loves you Denieal she is willing to make sacrifices…’ It is possible she doesn’t feel confident enough about herself. I thought about how friend acted and things she had said over the past couple months. I can’t say for sure what her feelings are, but I realized that to get involved with boy would be a bad idea. I felt like an asshole. I needed to step out of the situation and show my friend she was the priority. I did all this, and friend still vehemently insisted on her lack of interest in boy. I still promised I wouldn’t get involved with boy even if he were interested. I can feel good about how I conducted myself I guess. Friend said boy told her that he had no recollection of the night before all he knew was that he talked to me about something important…hmmm…
So yeah, I feel like there is enough evidence to suggest that he isn’t interested. So it’s funny there is all this unnecessary drama around him that he doesn’t even know about. I mean my mom was right…she was. And I self flagellate enough to know that if the situation went down any differently I would have felt ridiculously guilty. I feel guilty now for god knows what reason. Still…I talked to my brother who explained that ‘bros before hos’ means that I would have slept with boy and then later renounced him for the sake of friendship…
Anyway I guess all these examples are to point to the fact that I feel like a grown child. I am constantly told to grow up, but at the same time being managed like I can’t make decisions for myself. I mean living with a parent as a grown person is always challenging even if your mom is a cool mom. Just the fact that my room is right next to hers puts the nails in the coffin of my future love life. We have sliding doors not regular doors which means little to no privacy. But whatever, the situation is what it is. For the most part I am happy to live with my mom. I think we all have moments where our parents drive us crazy.
I have been a lot more chill this week. I have attributed it to two things. I have been listening to sixties soul a lot and binaural brainwaves. The sixties soul is cool because it puts me in a good mood when I am walking, and it’s almost like I’m a real black person.
The Binaural Brainwaves mom introduced me to. They work with your brain chemistry to produce certain emotional/ physical responses. You could listen to one that tells your brain to create the feelings of being in love, or the high you would get from smoking weed. Your brain then produces the chemicals it would during that experience. I started listening to them on my headphones to help me focus on doing my finals. If I listen to music I get distracted by the words and if I don’t have any sound it’s hard for me to focus.
You are supposed to listen to the sounds in a relaxed/meditative position with your eyes covered. I haven’t experienced any amazing orgasmic experiences from them just yet because my brain is still getting adjusted but it does help me focus and I have been feeling mellower. I fell asleep with it on last night and had crazy intense dreams. I fell asleep listening to ‘first love’ and I don’t know what was playing when I awoke. I will report back on this binaural brainwave thing after two months of listening. But even now I feel like it’s doing something, though I am not sure what. For info on a program selling ‘doses’ or binaural brainwave tracks designed to replicate drugs and various emotions check out http://www.i-doser.com/. I am sure it explains it better than I did. Let me just say I downloaded the program and like fifty different ‘doses’ for free on a torrent site. I am wondering what this track MultipleO is like…
Geez I just all of a sudden woke up at 4:15ish and don’t feel tired or like I can fall asleep again. What gives? I was talking to someone recently about their insomnia, perhaps it triggered my own. I remember being in college and pretty much never going to sleep. Kelsi and I would stay up and watch ‘Insomniac Music Theater’ on MTV. Ah memories…I am upset about being awake because I was having a really vivid and amazing sex dream, it’s been a while since I have had one, so waking up abruptly sucks. I guess I will tool around on the internet unnecessarily until I drop off…It could also be the Binaural Brainwave stuff I have been listening to lately.
In other news I don’t work at the bar anymore. I am starting to do some freelance writing, some of which I will find out more about tomorrow. But if all works out I will be starting a blog and doing content for that qigong doctor I mentioned a couple posts back. I also will have a small piece coming up in August in another lesbian mag Cherrie ( they pay). So I feel good that I am starting to do some writing for money.
Things are all right in the world of Denieal. I have stopped worrying about dating. I am just focusing on school and taking care of this household. It’s kind of a relief to not have to think about finding someone.
On another note. I use inappropriate wrong. I am appropriate and respectful, I just am sex positive as well so… I guess a friend pointed out to me recently that to be honest like I am doesn’t make me inappropriate, just maybe a tinge scandalous. But I don’t try to make people uncomfortable. Anyway hmm I do have to get up in a couple hours. Maybe I will have some tea.
Explicit
Poetry is not obscene enough for our story.
Verse is not raw enough when sordid fairy-tales are cut
out of oily history.
I’m the story of fingers plunging into slick depths,
of violent kisses and bites that draw blood.
Depraved evening—craves a hard response.
Hot and wasted in allies–gravel and ash mouth and dirty hands.
We drink too much to rhyme couplets
And I can’t be bothered to talk about the scenery.
I went to the premier of Hairtales a couple of weeks back. There was this scene of a man who was getting the “Back, Crack and Sac” waxing done. Though there was no screaming involved there were visible beads of sweat as the hair was ripped from his nether regions. I think it’s fair to say, that though intimate waxing is growing in popularity for men, even straight men, it is still more commonly done by women.
I guess I thought Brazillian Waxes would go away as a trend. I thought perhaps they were for like porn stars and people from LA. I have been out of the dating loop for a while, and pubes were never an issues with my partners in the past. But now I am hearing all these horror stories from friends that it is expected that women get this done. They have told me stories ranging from intimate partners responding with disgust and/or surprise at the presence of pubic hair. Um what?
Look at this picture: 
This woman’s vagina looks angry and scared. How can it be an expectation that women regularly get this done? I guess I just feel like if a woman wants to do it it’s one thing, but to be pressured to regularly do an expensive and painful procedure that gives her the vagina of an adolescent girl is absurd at best. I know there is a sensation difference, which is not to be ignored. What disturbs me is that this is the dominant paradigm and girls getting this done are younger and younger.
What will be the next thing that women have to do for beauty? Will we have to remove fingers because 10 digits are so last year? With the demands of being completely hairless, thin, with big breasts and long hair, it’s no wonder so many women have complexes. God knows with all these horror stories I am a little afraid of the next time I have sex. Will I have to emotionally prepare my partner for fur? I find it sad that having pubic hair is now considered a fetish. Wow…just wow.
I love theme parties, and I never tire of them. I mean what is better than putting energy into a fun campy outfit and having fun with your friends. My friends had a Glam themed party last night. They are really fun people so it was actually a party I did not suffer through. I like when people are fun drunks. I have to admit that I didn’t camp it up at all in my outfit, which I regretted a little. I wore this beaded tassle skirt thing and this ever shrinking top from which my boobs were desperately trying to escape. I want to be the type of girl who can rock slinky outfits and heels all the time, but it just makes me feel awkward. It’s not that I think I looked bad, I just feel exposed. I am a a really weird scorpio. I feel like my home is in jeans and t-shirts, though I like myself best glammed up. I actually had the thought for a second, when I was getting this unwanted attention from this guy who has a girlfriend, that it was my fault for dressing slutty.
Today I look tore up and am exhausted. Anyway enough on that. I had fun, drank lots, danced, and fell in and out and in again of a crush. The party was just a welcome break from this week. My house is a drag, to say the least, and this has been a week of me having temper tantrums. But, my things are getting better. I just have to do 10,000 words of final papers, my column, look for a job, and stop stressing.
Ugh I am like eeking every last drop of poetry out of myself to try to finish my portfolio for class. Whew boy it sucks but you can’t force genius? If anyone has some tried and true poetry writing exercises/prompts feel free to share.
Anyway here is one I hate the least:
Everyone Needs An Editor
You became my semi-colon; a pause I never learned how to use.
Our tongues curled around each other like question marks.
Thought maybe you’d fit–despite my bad grammar.
I invited you into my fractured lines.
I Failed, according to you, to make sentences fit.
You were distracted by margins and font choices; giving up after the first draft.
So you blamed me for this sad composition.
I replaced you with an ellipsis.
Ok so now that I am back from class I can fully address this whole being published thing. First of all in my excitement I sent the column to absolutely everyone, this includes people who probably did not want to know about the specific failings of my g-spot. Also I hate to be all Oprah about this, and most of you know, but I am bisexual not lesbian. I just feel like I need to clarify so folks don’t get all butt hurt or weirded out when I start dating men.
Anyway so in theory right, I was so stoked about going into print. When I actually saw the article in print I have to say it is better then most (not all) drugs. I am also a little embarrassed like “Am I really this I dunno forward and/or crass?” And the answer is Yes, Yes I am. I lied a couple weeks ago when I said that I wasn’t inappropriate. Eventually I will talk about sex with you if you sit down next to me long enough. And what is not to enjoy about the subject of sex really? I wish I were having some. It is seriously better then how I was doing before this news. I am so dramatic when I am sad. Can someone get me a fucking chaise lounge and a Martini so I can do this properly…
So yeah with the sending of the article out, um, yeah friends and family have gotten it. AWKWARD… My mom thinks that because she is my biggest fan that everyone else is. So under her influence everyone got it…so yeah sorry Uncle Paul if you are here now confused about life and wishing you could scrub the image of my sex life out of your mind…
To everyone else fucking enjoy my inappropriate ass!
I got my column published!!!! Here is the link! ( also if you are new to this blog please ignore the winge festival in the previous two posts.
Woohoo! (does dance of joy)
I found a temporary solution so I am a bit calmer. I can distract myself with final papers. Two of my classes just ended. People keep telling me the universe only gives you what you can handle and/or god must think you’re strong enough to handle things. That’s all fine and good, really. but it doesn’t make the situation less hard. But I get tired of worry about it.
I told my new friend that if anything happens to my mother it’s probable that I would descend into a life of alcoholism. Then I was like ‘hey things are shitty enough now why wait? Seize the day I say!’ I have been away from this blog lately, doing final papers and such, and well drinking. Drinking like there’s a pot of gold at the bottom of each wine glass. Perhaps if there were black tar heroin available I would go for that as well.
Her health is rapidly declining and she still is home/bed bound. What is also awesome is how after next week I have no idea how rent will be paid. That’s it folks I am at the end of my optimism. My ‘job’ didn’t schedule me this week and I don’t know if they will schedule me regularly. Even if I did work up to the max hours the money I make isn’t enough for rent alone, let alone bills and such. Oh and I have horrible credit so no bank will give me a loan. Unless there is a miracle before the end of the week, I and my extremely ill mother will be out. What the hell am I going to do? I don’t know exactly.
My mother has a shit load of stuff so even to move back into my sisters would cost me a fortune and it would be an epic task. I have to break a lease…bills piling up…yada yada yada.
I can’t live like this I just can’t. How can I concentrate on school with abject poverty looming over my head? I asked my friends to help, they are doing the best they can but most of us are paycheck to paycheck folks.
Aside from the money my therapist keeps saying ‘your mother is going to die.’ She is drilling it in I think to prepare me. Guess what I am not prepared. If anything happened…fuck I don’t know what I would do.
Realistically I can only ‘drown my sorrows’ when others are treating. So there is virtually no escape or relief most of the time. Yet here I am trying to do homework.
Last night I went to see DJ Krush for a friend’s birthday. We had drinks and E ahead of time and headed to the show. This being my first time with E I silently worried about possible future lack of control. And though I had a lovely evening, I never felt the effects of the drug. Only half of my companions did. LIttle bit of a let down I have to say. As was the fact that DJ Krush was only coming out for an hour (though none of us were actually familiar exactly with DJ Krush). well initially we felt let down. We did find that once his set started we were relieved when it finally concluded. All the other DJ’s were way more fun and you could dance. HIs stuff made me want to lay on a couch taking bong rips.
Other fun things about the evening…I met a ton of cool people. I met one girl who was very sweet, but I was a little frustrated that she felt like she had to tell me about the one black guy she slept with and how he was crazy. I met a ton of amazing guys who are all in long term relationships (sigh). I think that is what contributed to them being amazing. I also was partially stalked by some random guy who thought I was famous and wanted to take my picture. It was awkward to say the least. And another guy sort of dry humped/ danced against me–also awkward. We went to someone’s roof garden and later to someone’s apartment the over looked this bridge in darling harbour. All in all it was a nice evening and I go home at 7 am, by far my latest Australian night to date.
In other completely unrelated news, I got a job. I now work in the gaming room at this hotel in my area. Well hotels here are not really hotels. It’s a bar a bistro and I work in the day in the sports bar/gaming area. It is cool, I have worked three shifts already. My only problem being 1. on the third shift a manager I hadn’t met the other two days obviously has some sort of jealousy/insecurity around me. She actually got on the phone (which is right behind my booth) and said ‘Apparently Jason is just hiring anyone these days.’ Me being the only new person on that day meant that that comment was passively aggressively directed at me.Thing is I didn’t fuck up anything or do anything that I know of to get on her bad side. 2. She didn’t put me on the schedule for this week. That bitch just made an enemy. I don’t know how, and it may take me months to figure out how, but I will make her suffer because well lets face it I have never been so good at the turn the other cheek thing.
Anyway that’s all my updates for now.
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