January 31, 2005

alien mind control...

i was reading pope's essay on man and the phrase, "vindicate the ways of god to man" struck a chord. i've heard this before. where? why? i've never read pope before, so that cannot be the source. but i remember the phrase clearly. (or some paraphrasing of it..."to vindicate god's way to man," perhaps?) i googled it - i have no clue. it's part of something i had to once memorize. a lyric? a poem? a chant? i don't know. it's supposed to rhyme with something. i went to a private school where i was forced to memorize poetry. i went to christian summer schools where we were forced to pray and sing. i was a girl scout, that has a whole wealth of culty implications. and anything i hear enough times imprints on me pretty strongly. there are several places i might have picked it up. so why do i know those words? why? this is one of those things i'm going to obsess about. i know it. help me. what pop culture phenomenon can explain the preknowledge of a phrase written by alexander pope, who was at the time referencing john milton??? i'm not this smart - there has to be some reasonable explanation, but what?

personal mantra...
past life memories resurfacing...
my safety word...
puts me into a hypnotic trance...

January 30, 2005

molly (the manic) maid

it's 4:30 am and i'm tidying my room. i changed my sheets and made my bed. i organized the papers from last quarter that had been left scattered about my bed and desk for months and threw away the trash. i finally folded and put away my laundry. i picked up the pile of discarded clothing off the bathroom floor and put it in the hamper. i reduced my desk clutter and took out the trash. it all sounds terribly neurotic that i would be cleaning at this hour. it's funny, but i feel my most centered right now. i'm not seeking approval, manicly spouting absurdities for attention, or self-consciously looking over my shoulder. i am simply indulging my primordial needs to clean late into the night. actually, i've left the job only half-done. there are countless other little tasks that need to be completed before my domain can return to a state of true order and peace. for example, the layer of grime really ought to be removed from every surface in my bathroom before i can feel comfortable allowing guests to use it.

one of my intended tasks today was to clean my suede sneakers, which have turned a rather unappealing shade of grey. i had to run to rite-aid for some suede cleaner. i scrubbed one shoe ferociously, giving myself a blister along the way, and now my entire room smells of christmas spices and rubber cement - eu de leather spray - and i'm having dizzy headaches that pulse in my temples (but in leather cleaner's defense, this really began friday). instead of fumigating my brain, i ought to have been studying molecular biology or writing an english essay. non school-sanctioned lit - i'm reading survivor by chuck palahniuk, which i pulled off of kat's bookshelf at perhaps 2am. tonight, i will dream of procuring a vacuum cleaner, of dancing bottles of 409, and clothes tumbling, tumbling in the dryer. i finally got the money that jim owed me back, so i have bills small enough to do laundry, and now he has no obligation to ever see me again, which i cynically believe will be exactly the case. (actually i very likely will see him again before the year ends in a handful of awkward social situations orchestrated by blaize, that will not only feature the girlfriend, but also their clique of dull female friends who have been - rather horrifically - dubbed "the harem.") i am currently cynical about all social situations, though. today, i advised steffi that the wonderful harvard law student she is dating probably has "a truly disturbing kink...like he likes being dressed up in binding leather lingerie and spanked." in my defense, i have been reading an abundance of misanthropic writers of late: the c(o)unt(ry) wife is cynical about love and reputation, gulliver's travels is just mean, rochester's satire maligns reason, and survivor, now, is terribly mordant.

oh, but i love this, "the smoke hot and dense inside me feels the way i would if i had a soul." lovely. so depressive. i suppose this is all terrible reading material for someone who's pmsing. and it's just unkind of the universe to deprive me of the cleaning implements i require to finish my job. i'm going to finish my story, and then, perhaps, to bed. god knows what tomorrow will bring, but if it's a bottle of gin, this little compulsive will drop the dust rag with joy and cavort a little jig of joy. and maybe the headaches will finally go away.

January 25, 2005

a life without cause is a life without effect

i've finished my book, pretty good. i'm afraid that the syntax was not terribly inspired and it left me a bit confused. about two-thirds of the way through, i paused, seeing it was written in a rather limited third person narrative. up until then, i had been under a peculiar impression that it was written in the first person. i pondered this for a while, when i suddenly realized that the writing style was not entirely unlike my own, at least as far as the sentence fragments went. and whenever i write in that manner, i am writing in the first person. so, at least it wasn't an entirely far-fetched misapprehension.

after i finished, i did a terribly geeky thing. i had gone to meet a professor earlier today and discuss an ecological parallel to the underlying libertine philosophy in the writings of the earl of rochester (oh, trust i know how insufferably pedantic that sounds) and he had asked that i send him a follow-up e-mail with the specifics. so, at about 3am today, i sent him a terribly long message, detailing the concept of group selection, its rivalry with natural selection theory, and the argument for the supremacy of natural selection. you will just have to believe that there is a correlation between that and libertinism - and it has to do with being a selfish git. anyways, i summed up the arguments, named their main proponents, cited their relevant articles, as well as my sources, and sent it off with a bit of an apology as to the length. if i were doing this out of any desire to promote myself, i would be full of self-loathing as a total kiss-ass. unfortunately, this is just something i have been obsessing over for the past few days and the options were to either share my private fixation, or go quietly insane. i never did introduce myself to my professor while speaking to him, though i believe i did include my name in the e-mail out of formality. besides, i am firm in my knowledge that my professor will never read or grade any of my essays, so i will never receive any reward for this compulsive behavior. so, essentially, there is no point to me having done all that. none, except for the geekery. shit.

i have the strangest desire to watch barbarella again. i'm not sure what it is that compels me, but i have to assume it is some biological need to see bubblegum sci-fi sexplotation. post-coital jane fonda with horribly messy teased hair. post-non-coital fonda with ringlets. that fabulous black and white fur number with the long, trailing tail. durand durand and his famous line, "Fool! Liar! ldiots!" no, it's really much campier and charming that it here seems.

January 24, 2005

beauty brain's fabulous fanny

i just popped in to tie back a mess of my gigantic, streaked hair. the color is washing out and i'm slowly getting down to a dull orange and pink rust. i ought to read another couple hundred pages of le morte darthur, but can't bring myself to it. i've been lounging about reading pattern recognition by william gibson, which i picked up, along with a vonnegut, last night in a rushed trip to borders with kat and her new dull friend. well, kat doesn't find him dull, but i have nothing to talk to him about - he makes me feel unsocial. but no more than this book does. it approaches rabbit, run in shiftless melancholy. makes me feel like a bit of a lout, but i'm enjoying the vague mystery of it. makes me want to develop a sense of style - some terribly esoteric pathologies, i'm not sure. i am so emotionally malleable, literature always does this to me, suck me along into the protagonist's mood. every lull, i catch myself falling into some tame fantasy. oh well, perhaps when this is through, i might just break out vurt again. delve deeper into the cyberpunk escapism.

p.s. i am now resolved to think in alliterative couplets, like the title, torn directly from gibson, or the lovely, "alone again, suddenly, in the crepuscular calm of a tokyo taxi." lovely.

January 23, 2005

good night

i had another one my explorative treks around la last night, yay! let me tell you about it!!

let us begin at 6:45, when i first headed out. met sadaf on a street corner at the bottom of the dorms and headed into westwood. generic good fun time - we went to see life aquatic. it was wonderful, as it ought to have been, and she loved it. i really dig when the people i like dig the things i know they'll enjoy. convoluted. so lemme say, "i knew she'd like it." returned to the apartment. greg called me while i was in the movie, but didn't leave a message or answer when i called him back. huffy. there was a man on the street corner with puppets. adult puppets. very being john malkovich i don't know why i didn't stay and watch. i guess it's that most street performers frighten me a little. go figure.

phase 2. kat and i sat around a bit. i was drawing and reading le morte darthur. only around page 100, but really, i'm not expected to read all that much. we then headed to triangle, jim's frat, for what blaize had reported was a party. we got there and discovered blaize, jim, and their dullish female friends deep in the attempt to join the "century club," a rather inelite few who have the stamina and drunken dullness to sit around and take 100 shots of beer in as many minutes. we were greeted warmly and promptly ignored. we attempted to get drinks, but were loath to open our wallets. there was no one on the dance floor and we weren't drunk enough to be friendly to strangers. so we left. (without saying goodbye.)

phase 3. back at the apartment. kat is at her computer, i am laying on the back of the couch. there is a science art exhibit closing sunday, shall we go? we want to go. a bit more stalling and some sustenance and we are finally out the door. it is 1am.

phase 4. driving to south central. jokes in the car, we arrive and find the place packed. how awesome is it that we're going to a science museum at 1am? self-congradulation. the line to get tickets is half an hour long. the line to get into the exhibit? unmentionably lengthy. nearly everyone there is kind of gothy/punk. we finally get our tickets, using up all my cash, and are told it would be a better idea if we were to just come back at 3am. the tickets were time-sensitive, you see, and it was 1:30. so after much debate, we decide to drive around downtown. up one street, down another, onto the freeway, circling around chinatown, and back to the region of the museum. jokes about telling blaize and jim we left the party to drive around south central/downtown la. saw many cops. we stopped at a donut shop and kat bought me an apple fritter. she had a sprinkles and a maple frosted with tea. scorn for parked rice rockets. minority in "igniting chaos" (little white vehicle with silly name) tries to holla at us in the parking lot, eeeergh. finally back to the museum.

phase 5. the line is not nearly so long now - it begins inside, at any rate. we wait for another twenty minutes or so and finally get in. ooh! the exhibit was awesome. body worlds. scores of plastinated corpses set up and posed so you could see their various organ systems. i absolutely adored the ones that were of just the circulatory system, i kept wanting to exclaim, "that's bloody famous!" but can't because i'm not a brit. we were in the exhibit until 6am, and towards the end, i'm afraid we got a bit silly. penis jokes, and i couldn't stop laughing at the plastic aborted fetuses. but really, who wouldn't laugh when confronted with a disembodied testicle, suspended in the air along with the rest of a man's dissembled body parts by wires. so kat and i wandered around alternately sharing jewels of scientific wisdom with one another, and sharing a good giggle. oh! and i swear i saw a former child star - the kid who played the youngest son on home improvement. he was wearing elaborate pants. and evidently, a man who has died, been turned into plastic, and then displayed with his muscles splayed from his body, can be "brought closer to life" by placing a white straw hat on his head. thank you, museum literature, for bringing me one step closer to solving the mystery of reanimating dead tissue.

phase 6. drive back home and crash. stupid thought keep popping into my head like "if jesus was the 'lamb of god,' is it communion whenever you eat a lamb chop?" i hate going to bed when it's light. lights out, goodnight.

January 21, 2005

vignettes of my week

i was just disturbed by the confusion whether the rumbling i heard was coming from my stomach or my speakers. speakers. thank god, but i had been rumbling just earlier. same tone, same dissatisfied growl. i'm going to go make a sandwich.

yesterday, in honor of bush's second inauguration, a word that reminds me of auger...and now some festering growth, the police were out in full force in westwood. dozens of bicycle cops and on horses. yen and i wandered about watching them in mild amusement. she was numb from dental surgery and slurring "pigs!" and "fight the man!" just loud enough for them to hear. i was carrying a twenty-pound sack of oranges and grinning. it was bizarre seeing piles of horseshit in the street among the mercades. yen's scared to death of animals. a horse walked by on the sidewalk and she hid in a doorway, whimpering. the cops and i had a good chuckle.

a few nights ago blaize found a photo of my mother, squirreled away in a dvd case and forgotten. he said something along the lines of "ooh, who's this?" kat looked over his shoulder and called out, "carla, what's a picture of your mother doing in here?" yeah, she was a hottie.

i was coming down from the roof and was waiting for the elevator like the slacker i am. i was looking over the railing down to the street and a hummingbird came to feed from the little clustered flowers inches in front of me. i leaned out and it flew away.

i didn't have class monday, i skipped school wednesday, i don't have class thursday. i went to class today and it felt novel, amusing. i felt like giggling while walking from bunche to moore.

January 19, 2005

brief exchange (no this isn't about undie swapping)

*kat is sitting at her desk in the living room just outside my door*
*i emerge from my bedroom*
me: i just finished reading my book, i just finished reading my book... *does little jig*
kat: *nods* good.
*i stand beside her rocking back and forth*
me: i need attention.
kat: yes.
me: that was actually good, because i also need affirmation.
*walk back into my room*

January 16, 2005

rather random

so i had an epiphany the other evening as to why i've been so neurotic as of late, well, not so much an epiphany as a forehead-slapping moment. and, for those of you with more delicate sensibilities, i have decided to explain my behavior with an extended metaphor. (no, of course it's not so that i can refrain from writing it out bluntly.) god help us all.

now, consider if you will: a twenty-year-old male finds himself entirely unable to get off for a longer span than two weeks. that could be considered quite the crisis. rather large-magnitude, in fact. politicians and world leaders would declare a state of emergency and the red cross would send aid workers to the disaster area: the afflicted's pants in the hope of soothing the poor man in his trying times. now, as we all know, charity begins at home. and, well, yes, i do believe that sums things up. hope that was vague enough for you all. well, no wonder i've been freaking out. that said, i am slowly and cautiosly reverting to my normal self.

let us recap the latter half of the week, now, shall we? thursday had no class, did laundry, but never put away my clean clothes. nor have i, for that matter, unpacked after coming back down from the bay. as i didn't do all of my dirty laundry, merely the darks, and they are now resting in my hamper, there is a growing pile of dirty laundry on the floor of my bathroom, preventing me from fully opening the door. friday went to class. go back and spent a couple of lovely hours in perfect contentment reading on the roof. le morte darthur. a bit slow to get through, but it was lovely and warm and i came back down smiling faintly. went to the hammer museum with kat and amy and watched movies until late. very jolly time. today, went to santa monica with the same two and drifted from store to store. got some inexpensive gap pants, some (accidentally doubly) discounted panties (that ended up at $.50 a piece due to some computer error that i poor karmically did not mention to the cashier), a lovely soft sweater with an odd bow on the shoulder (makes me feel like some sort of gift), and a stretchy striped shirt. it seems i'm beginning to dress more classy. go figure. dinner at amy's and then grocery shopping. i've also had the most horrendous desire to dance about.

read a bit of camille paglia's book sexual personae (sadly, a favorite of elissa's, sorry hon, i'm about to bash it) and found it to be horribly argued pedantic tripe. the name-dropping alone was enough to enrage, but the absurd overdramatic assertions she makes without giving proper reasoning behind them are beyond the pale. i read it aloud to kat and amy and we took turns dissecting almost her every line. a bit of an excerpt from page 5, thanks to amazon.com. "what the west represses in its view of nature is the chthonian, which means 'of the earth' - but the earth's bowels, not its surface. jane harrison uses the term for pre-olympian greek religion, and i adopt it as a substitute for dionysian, which has become contaminated with vulgar pleasantries. the dionysian is no picnic. it is the chthonian realities which apollo evades, the blind grinding of subterranean force, the long slow suck, the murk and ooze. it is the dehumanizing brutality of biology and geology, the darwinian waste and bloodshed, the squalor and rot we must block from consciousness to retain our apollonian integrity as persons. western science and aesthetics are attempts to revise this horror into imaginatively palatable form." what the fuck is she talking about??? she seems caught-up in her use of language and fails to say anything of import; within the first 6 pages, as far as i have currently read, only seems to list a bunch of false assumptions and support them with gross leaps of logic. now, i am willing to grant that, perhaps she is merely giving a skeletal outline of how the arguments she will later make will progress, however i doubt it. urg. rubbish. i suppose eventually, she will begin talking about sexual roles and eventually how sex can never be guiltless or equitable and feminists are wrong and people are inherently bad and...god who knows.

i've been having these really random and epic dreams. large sets, diverse casts, longish plot lines, vivid colors. i wish i could remember them better. i'm enjoying them, however. alright, and now to bed and hopefully a cure. night.

January 14, 2005


got a cross-eyed drunk and quite silly last night with the c8 crew. had a good time. tried to do something similar with sadaf at a frat tonight, but ended up never getting in. we instead got nachos and went to yen's for gossip about old acquaintances and for general chillness. i was distant and watched tv. i've been having some epic dreams and some shiftless anxieties. i feel like i should completely distance myself from some people who, really, i love, but who just remind me of asinine worries. i need to be out of the apartment more. somewhere where i can stop checking aim and e-mail constantly and stop mentally pacing back and forth in nervous anxiety. also, it has to be somewhere where i won't be looking up constantly to catch the entirely unlikely occurrence of that person walk in. (btw, you're probably taking a stab at guessing who/what/why, and you're probably wrong.) i'm just a bit unhinged. really, it's the amassing of several paranoid fantasies into one big fuck-all (deliberate vagueness). i want to be back home, tooling around the bay in mum's slightly beat-up lexus, shopping in the haight, gossiping in donut bar, hopping from bookstore to bookstore, and reading for hours in front of the tv. then, i could just shove my laptop under my bed and resolve to leave it there. instead, i'm in la and a bit of a drunkard/slacker/paranoid. i feel like just wandering into westwood and spending all day. or perhaps i'll hide out at sadaf's for a while. whatever.

January 12, 2005

now, remember folks, it's just my subconscious

alright folks, turn on your cliche detectors, because it's carla had an odd dream storytime huzzah!!

so: i was part of some sect of wizards (yeah, i know, how geek), living in a small hermitage-like enclave. little white cottage, dark wood gables, little stone-walled garden, in a valley. big perfectly green hills rose up behind it in massive rolling waves. the first other settlements were on the second hill from us. we were all students, and i was first, apart from the master (an elderly white man, of course). now, by powerful, i don't quite mean the power to move things or heat things, etc, though i suppose those were what the powers were, but it was more along the lines of mental force. it isn't as if i was greatly powerful move mountains sort, it was just a very concentrated mentality that could get things done, and mine was more concentrated than the other students. now, we lived in pretty close contact with the land, gardening, potting, and doing the rural thing, as that was how the master preferred to teach. but in the hills above our little valley sanctuary, there was trouble. *cliche alet* people were losing touch with the land and were becoming meaner and more self-absorbed. closed off. some of the other pupils went to see what was happening and failed to return, so i went out with another group to see what was up. i ran into the others in a large hall, dome-topped windows all along one side, a large stone table down the center with high-backed chairs. m__ (from middle school) was there among the others. he had been my second in the (magic) school but had been turned, along with the others by whatever the corruptive force in the mountain villages had been. began mocking our teacher's methods, saying that he was old-fashioned in his dedication to working the earth and that he was really holding us back from our potential power with his narrow-minded rurality. of course, i have to mention that the corruptive changes in the mountains were related to the growth of cities, factories, thick black smoke, the whole lot of industrial-age evils. so, m__ threatened us, spoke of a new-found power or something. we fought and he mopped the floor with me. not in the literal lord of the rings wizard battle sense. he dominated my physically and mentally. he did something like grab onto a shining glass plate in my mind - it was colored purple and pink on the outside and was made of other layers - blue and green - underneath. he somehow, grabbed this with a mental force, not a hand or anything and started squeezing it until it started cracking, causing me mental agony. i tried to fight back physically, but he had grabbed me with superior force there, as well. he and his turned cronies offered for us to join, i refused to protect the others and assuring myself that i had been the stronger in school, fought with michael again. he grabbed me again, beside the wall of windows and i was in agony slack and drooling from the pain. i had no choice but to yield and take the mental beating and watch my mental glass being sheared. confident that he had me beat, m__ released me. when he did so, one of the others who had turned, a female - much less menacing said to me - "you have the bluest sky he's ever seen." and then i, along with the second group, was released. and i knew it was because i would have to give m__ my blue somehow - but i had no idea how and i was scared. he was just toying me until he could get what he wanted from me, but i knew that the reprieve gave me an opportunity, limited, sure, to figure out how to beat him. ...and then i woke up. i can't even begin to know what it means. *sigh* i'm hoping the theme of the betrayal by friends is not indicative of something. seriously. but it was still a pretty cool dream, heh. and now, "you have the bluest sky he's ever seen," goes along with, "the cold, like the devil, turned his head by degrees," as an inexplicably significant dream phrase.

January 11, 2005

the idiot does provide a vital psycho-social service for this community

i'm feeling absolutely delightful. i'm feeling svelte and punky and in amazing good humor. the night was rather dull, really - kat went out with her two boys in succession, and roosh was out watching 24, as usual. i cooked my own dinner, hate cooking alone, dull, but i blared the clash and danced around as i am known to do in my secret alone hours. ate, read a chapter of molecular bio, and channel surfed. eventually, i put in flying circus and absolutely went into paroxysms of joy. i miss that show. it used to be shown on pbs, along with red dwarf and other uk favorites, and i would watch it and be bliss. in recent years, i've more of less forgotten about my love, though the dvds have been sitting in my collection for ages. yesterday i put in the how to identify parts of the body episode and totally rocked out to the penguin on the telly sketch. today it was archeology today and atilla the hun epis and i have to tell you, atilla is full of some of my other favorite sketches. for some reason, i get a complete arms-raised-over-head, giggles, squeals, kicking feet joyful reaction to news for parrots, as well as the town idiot sketch. *blissed-out sigh*

my total joy at watching nostalgic monty python sketches brings something to memory, i was an obnoxious child, yeah, but i was much more dynamic. now all i ever seem to do is sit around watching mediocre crime shows and obsessing about absurd details of my life. what happened to my art? and all the random bizarre little joys i had? at one point last year, i complained about feeling like a watered-down version of myself. diet carla - zero fat and half the carbs. that was a sleep-deprivation issue, but truly, i do feel as if i am acting like a less-interesting parody of myself. i think it's about time i got off my lazy ass and did something. but that's not even the whole of it. back home, doing cheesy classic college activity of sitting in coffee shop talking, i felt much more interesting and alive than i do now. and that's because i was arguing with clarence, or contending with chaos of many other conversations, or otherwise surrounded by life. i feel as if maybe i'm around too many laid-back people and in such small groups that there's no human drama for me to feed on. i'm at my best when there are people all around and we're all screaming and laughing and consuming refined sugars and caffeine (not hard to believe, i guess), or else when i'm dancing around entertaining myself. i'm bored with things. i need chaos soon. that or cabin fever will turn me prematurely into someone's white bread dull old granny. i don't want to be dull, i want to be animated coffee shop carla! with artificial coloring, caffeine, sugar, and loads of flavor.

January 09, 2005

things to fear

killer mold.

the apartment that costs us more than it is worth is flooding. yes, for some reason it is raining in la. and evidently, the infrastructure of our building cannot take the osmotic pressure. water is seeping in through the windows and dripping from the ceiling. mostly in kat and roosh's room. i just have one little puddle near the head of my bed. go me. but this brings up a worrying thought. since everything in our apartment, or at least all of the perishable items we bring in, either mold or congeal within a set time - it's true! tested and proven - i'm afraid the permasoak the carpets have been enjoying is going to provide rich growth medium for several strands of flesh-eating killer mold. the kind of mold that multiplies without control, devouring everything in its path, growing overnight into a sentient blob that will uproot itself and come to terrorize each of us in our beds with waving massive hyphae tendrils and guttural fungal moans. another result of the water seepeage is that there is so much water in our apartment, liquid and gaseous states, that nothing here will fucking dry. so every time i go out, i must then strip off wet clothing and hang it to dry, an impossible feat. at this rate, i will run out of warm pants and be forced to sit for hours in the bathroom with a blow dryer, making sopping vestments wearable once again. the only place i can be properly warm now is in my own bed, but even then, i'm having trouble thoroughly heating it up. i don't know what it is, but i haven't been able to get as hot as i normally do. i miss being a tiny furnace (as i like to think of myself - my own little boiler). i'm considering just going out and buying another comforter, just for the season. (if i didn't freak out at the though of electric blankets, i would simply get one of those.) i've actually considered exercising just before bed in order to get the blood pumping, but that's about as likely as me convincing roosh to eat a hot dog (she's veg). but even then, as soon as i get out of bed, i start shivering like i'm in withdrawal. a deep, bone-shiver that originates in my spine and radiates outward through all my meat until i have goosebumps and i'm quaking like something's about to burst forth from under my skin. so simply, bring back my warm weather!!!! please! one way or another, my well-being depends on it!

January 08, 2005


blaize is back in our lives; back from spain, that is. i just walked in on kat and blaize making out on the couch. totally predictable. shit. you'd think they could think of something better after me and jim. oh well. awkwardness raised to new heights. whee. did see jim today. drank goldschalger in his room with the others mentioned here. hugged him hello as i was leaving and after i was sufficiently sloshed. he slapped my ass on the way out. nice. i'm not even sure i'm particularly well-disposed towards him at the moment, let alone willing to let him slap my ass.... more to follow. y'know...when i'm sober. and when i'm more resolved towards something, so...never. yeah.

January 06, 2005

the return

so now i'm back in la. sigh. i left without either of my parents being home, so it was a rather depressing sendoff, though i said goodbye to both the night before and they both called in the morning to wish me a good trip. i left a note: i love you, goodbye, i'll call when i get there, that sort of thing. packed up last night and then stayed up late trimming my fingernails, buffing them shiny. woke up in the morning, finished packing, showered, trimmed my toenails, ate breakfast, wrote a thank-you card to my grandmother for birthday and christmas checks ($25 each. thanks gram, for really stretching open that wallet), wrote the note to my parents and left. i felt amazingly organized, even though i was doing it all last possible minute. the drive down was nice. gorgeous once we hit the grapevine and dusk was falling through increasingly dark clouds in the direction of la, and gorgeous pristine white snow covering the ground in a broken sheet, broken by scattered scraggly black bushes, dense in areas and completely absent in others, creating a strange and confusing view of secondary selection (why was it not equally dispersed, why?) and a dark haze over the more distant hills. for some reason, the branched protrusions reminded me of the surface proteins on a cell's membrane. even when they're just in my head, my metaphors admittedly need some work. on the way down, i read a book of kat's guilty pleasures, and it certainly is one. a total fluff and shit novel, of course, but not a bad one at that. i enjoyed it. i'm thinking about tracking down the sequel. once here, we went to ranch 99 for much-needed veggies to sustain our culinary endeavors for another week. that, and ramen. for when we're not feeling all that culinary, really. so i am back and i have utterly no desire to unpack. or change my sheets, for that matter, though after all the dirtiness of finals, it really really is needed. it'll get done, no worries there, but i think i'm going to wait another day to clean up. also, go to the bank. also, get my books. also, well, anything else i deign needs to be done around here, because fortunately, though classes officially begin tomorrow, my thursdays are free. so i'll be spending it doing jack shit, suckers. well, not really, but still, nyeh.

January 03, 2005

animal trim

today i got a haircut. my hair now is limited straight across the bottom, like a ruler line. had it washed first, and man i love it when other people wash my hair, brush it, or braid it. not sexy when it's an elderly asian woman who smells of broth doing it, but still, such a total sensuous pleasure. it's like being petted, purrrrrrr. i sat for ages with a wet head waiting for someone to come cut my hair, but they kept taking other, dryer customers before me. i got bored staring at the other people in the mirror. guy finally sauntered over and threw a plastic sheet around my neck, i was still sitting cross-legged in the chair. got a trim, and the man offered to blow dry it straight - i accepted. the fool. didn't he know that my hair cannot just be blow dried, it must be subdued, subjugated straight. it eventually took two people working furiously with flat irons to make me sleek like a cat. i was mortified. it hurt, them pulling my hair in two directions, with all the nicely straight-haired asians there to watch. oh the horror of curly hair in the land of the straight-haired asian. but now i'm all pretty. i love having straight hair. it's such a hassle to do, but afterwards i can run my hands through my hair without getting caught three inches in. mm, but now i'm all silky smooth. makes me feel like stalking something. feral. rawr. calvin likes my haircut. he stood up on his hind legs, paws on my shoulders, shoved his nose into my flowing locks, and nuzzled my skull. sweet little kitten, he loves being combed, too.

it's rainin' joy

suegol and i went to see life aquatic which i terribly loved, though i can't tell you why, exactly. very cool, though. i liked it better than royal tennenbaums, even. i don't know exactly, the styles were very similar, after all, but i just liked this one much more. i think maybe because in this, even though the characters were all pathetic figures in their own rights, they still managed to find a true cohesion, making them more likable than royal and his clan. i dunno, i'm talking out my ass, really. i can decisively say that portuguese david bowie singin' man was the soul of all that rocks and i would like to maybe quietly hand him an elaborate flower (an orange lily or an orchid or something) while passing him on the street one day. i must remember to keep one of those handy at all times in case the opportunity ever presents itself. i managed to slosh my way through a large puddle on my way into the theater - thoroughly moistening my socks for the remainder of the evening - while mocking suegol for being wussy and avoiding it. turns out...was much deeper than anticipated. sat in theater curled up in seat with shoes off. after, suegol came by for dinner - roast yum! - and then we met some people at starbucks and hung out in a large ring of chairs next to a fragrant homeless man with pizza. (as usual, i got the plush chair, ha! while everyone else was in wooden.) we were boisterous. shortly before closing, clarence and i had an impassioned conversation about why i hate ayn rand and plato, and how truly terrible national treasure and taking lives were. actually, really only my side of the conversation was very impassioned, but that's just because there topics really get me riled (fucking plato). went back home and mom fed me cider, then i headed to kat's to watch welcome back, mr. macdonald, a japanese movie i had seen ages and ages ago in theaters, desperately tried to find years later, and that was only recently released in the states. it's been on my amazon wish list for ages, but i never was enthusiastic enough about it to buy it. last night, i saw the dvd lying casually on kat's desk and flipped out. evidently, her sister had bought it, being a complete japanophile, and had recommended kat watch. aaah, kismet. it wasn't quite as good as i remember, though still quite funny. i am pleased. the remainder of my vacation is shaping up quite nicely, and if i make it out to san francisco, i'll have no regrets. but now, bed.

January 02, 2005

making up for lost antics

i'm finally feeling better, well enough to go out even. granted, that is, apart from the symptoms i'm feeling better. cough still coughing, mucus still oozing, but i'm spry and full of life. which is why i just got back from kat's house where i'd been playing video games for the better part of three hours. ha-haaa!! what's sad is, i got so hopped up on adrenaline (i'm not very good, you see) that by the end i was sort of quivering. like a chihuahua in the cold. also, i had to pee a lot, but that was because i made the popular decision to keep myself well-hydrated. i hope... it'd be sad if i were that excited. it was a big day today, actually. i went to the mall. (um-hmm! yep that's right!) i bought some very cool wool ass-pants, a shirt that's purple, and a tank-top. i also bought the rest of kat's christmas present. yen and i went to all sorts of stores, tried on many things, and we were shameless in sample-grubbing at see's candies. and then i went home and mom made crab cakes for dinner, which i've been asking for because i've never actually had them, but they sounded like good things. they were good things! after that, mom, kat, and i went to borders and spent ages looking around and mocking titles. i bought a book called vurt; the cover is terribly colorful. and we returned home. that's how i finally ended at kat's house, shaking like a very excited leaf. tomorrow, i'm going to see life aquatic and then rent some movies with kat and watch. maybe i can get someone to go to sf with me on monday. ooh! and my favorite shoe store opened up near my home, replacing a children's clothing store. i wanna go there and maybe buy something. (i'm soo trying to cram in a full winter break into the last 4 days i have home.)