go ahead, cornelius, you can cry.

Oh gnat-like tiny bugs who fly into my apartment when I leave my patio door open, why do you torment me so? 

Must you perch on my freshly baked brownies? The bunch of bananas on my counter? Is there nothing else in my apartment with which you can satisfy yourself? 

And please, when I'm two inches from my bathroom mirror applying liquid eyeliner, I'd appreciate it if you flew away from my exposed eyeball. Thanks. This is a difficult enough task when under the influence of marijuana. Flying tiny things by one's eyes does not a safe situation make.

+ + +

Now that that's done with.

New fierce heels:

What's that inside? Oh yeah. They're fuckin' UNICORNS, son. 

The jewelry haul..

Yes, it's Bambi on my bracelet. Yes, I will rock it with my head held high. Who doesn't like Bambi??

Ooohh..Fender pic earrings. Yum. It was a battle between these and some heart shaped pics with colored dinos all over 'em. Fender won out, of course. Come on now.

And possibly the best for last..one of my all-time favorite movies ever. Didn't you just wanna be there?? Classic.

I didn't need to get all that shit at Hot Topic, but I did. What do you do.

Oh, and if I never see another Twilight anything again, I'll die happy. What a ludicrous, over-dramatic, sloppily metaphorical piece of poorly executed drivel. And the special effects? Oh.My.God. Words can't even adequately express how 1993-era-made-for-television-sci-fi-movie they are. 

And FYI:

-vampires do NOT sparkle. Wtf.

-here's a good way to remember what 'vegetarian' means: you eat nothing with a face. 'Vegetarian' vampires wouldn't eat animals. They'd eat plants and legumes. Like the rest of us vegetarians. And then they wouldn't really be vampires. Which brings us back to..

-vampires DO NOT SPARKLE. Are they myspace glitter graphics made by fifteen year-olds? No.

-What self-respecting vampire drives a suburban soccer mom's crossover sport utilitywhatever? It's very unimpressive and sad and actually quite humorous to see a 'vampire' screech up to bullies to save the day in.....a volvo? Hmm. Not quite the effect they were going for, I think. Did the big three see through your thinly veiled excuse for a vampire flick and refuse to loan you a muscle car? 

If that's the case, there's hope for America yet.

-enough with the cloaked abstinence metaphors. Everyone gets it. Except the people preaching it, obviously.

-vampires do not sparkle.

-what looks to be premature ejaculation probably is. Don't pretend it's some animalistic craving for the lead female's blood. I see that look and familiar shudder all the time-right before the guys make for the bathroom to clean up. Just like 'Edward' did. Hmmm...

-vampires don't sparkle. 

+ + +

I'm off to cast my best friend's chart and spent some Q time with the pups. Watching Interview With the Vampire, natch.

I leave you with a great comic from explosm.net :

..as well as a pic from La Planete Sauvage (Fantastic Planet), because if you're not high, you'll wanna be while watching this movie..:

Actually, I don't know how anyone can be sober for certain movies, but that's another blog. 

xox

turn to the gates of heaven, to myself be damned

We see things not as they are but as we are.

-John Milton

Paradise Lost

Ahh, Phoenix drivers. Gotta love 'em. Mile and a half of 30 mph for no reason? Sure, we can do that! Driving the speed limit in the left lane? No problem. Going through construction barriers and guides like rats in a maze, searching for cheese that's not really there? Phoenix drivers will take care of that for ya.

I mean, really. Between snowbirds who can't read the street signs (bad vision) to non-US citizens who can't read the street signs (language barrier) to Cali transplants (..'nuff said), it's a wonder anyone gets any actual driving done anywhere in this city.

Anyway. Not to start the entry on a bitchy note, but it's just reason 5,092 why I smoke herb. I'm pretty sure running someone off the highway and dragging him out of his car to beat with my tire iron is probably frowned upon.

On a deeper note..

I feel lately like my life is a big puzzle, and there are all these pieces coming together of which I'm not aware. There is a lot going on currently that I don't quite understand, yet I know without a doubt there is a purpose to it all. I'm meeting and forming relationships (as well s severing ones) with people with whom I'd have never imagined I'd interact. Yet it doesn't feel nonchalant, or peculiar. It feels like everything that's happening and has happened in the last year or two is all interconnected and threaded together in a way that's not yet clear.

Sometimes you just feel things in your bones. Well, I do. I know some of you do, too. It's a sense, an instinct about things, that runs to the marrow. You feel it pulsing through you and electrifying your whole body. These feelings aren't some crazy adrenaline-pumping rush--they're subtle. They're like someone whispering a centuries-old secret to me; it's hushed and almost inaudible but the weight of its importance is immeasurable. I feel- I know- that something amazing and unexpected is going to happen to me or involving my life, and it's going to change me and possibly those around me forever.

It's everywhere-I feel it in the air, on the breeze. The breeze feels like a thousand ghostly fingers running through my hair. The sound of it in the trees sounds as though a million spirits are following my every move. It's not ominous-just ever so present. It's like 'they' know that I know, and they're telling me to stay strong and steadfast, and to follow my instincts. It sounds crazy, and maybe it is a little crazy, but it's one of the truest, most raw experiences I've ever had. I've learned over the years and in retrospect that tuning in to your 'gut' feelings and just tuning in to the world around you is a beautiful and rewarding gift to yourself. There are things and entities we know nothing about, but if we just turn down our own voices and slow our breathing we can become truly aware of the world around us (beyond the physical, tangible world).

That hippie, metaphysical tangent did have a purpose, I promise. I'm not going to start wearing patchouli and stop washing my hair, don't worry.

There are just times when the universe is giving-practically handing-to you knowledge or clues about your future, and if you're shut down and non-receptive it's all for naught. I've been feeling like this for some time now, but only in the last six months or so have I really tuned into it, almost fully. It's like a mother sensing when her child is hurt or in danger-it's that kind of just knowing. It's interesting and exciting, though, because I've always had strong convictions in my abilities and my future. I've known since I was a child that things would be fine-better than fine-no matter how bad they got. And believe me, there were bad times. But I always had this odd knowledge that things would be okay. Even at my darkest times, when I felt like I was drowning in a pitch black, thick pool of melancholy, I somehow knew that it wasn't my time to leave the world. I knew I would be involved in something big-even if it was only big to one other person.

So these feelings lately-they aren't something I shrug off or disregard. Especially when I examine some of the situation, like the people with whom I've been connected recently. Even my best friend came into my life for a very definitive reason, I know. I think about what turns my life would've taken had I stayed with my ex a few years ago, and one of the first and major things that comes to mind is my best friend. It feels as though we were separated at birth, or perhaps sisters in another life. I couldn't imagine existing on this earth without her in my life. And our spiritual connection is uncanny-we've known each other about a year and a half but it feels like we were meant to meet and become friends. It's like the universe was waiting for each of our lives to be at the right time to come together.

I've been using (maybe close to overusing) the term 'electric' to describe myself lately, and it's because any time I think of how my spirit and my body feels that's the first thing that comes to mind. I feel something running through me at all times, making me hyperaware and almost clairvoyant. It's not clairvoyance in the stereotypical way, though-it's subtle and I think it's purposely a little enigmatic. I think the universe is trying to get me to pay attention more. I know things, but I don't know them. I have dreams that I know are telling me very relevant things, but I can't put them together coherently. I meet, approach, and/or am approached by, people who I just know are vital to this part of my life-vital to the puzzle that's being assembled. I can't say why and I can't fully say how, but I examine how bewildered I am about some of my interpersonal connections and I realize it's because they don't make any sense. I'm bewildered because I could've never predicted it and yet it feels like it's been coming all along. I find myself wondering why so-and-so has come into my life, and I into theirs, and I have to stop and step back, and realize that this instance is one for which there is a definite, concrete reason. The opposites-attract or 'different strokes' cliches are all around me. I feel like I put out to the higher powers what I wasn't looking for regarding friends and lovers, and I was sent exactly that. Yet I know there is a greater meaning behind it.

Ugh. I feel like I'm making no sense, but the words are coming out as they're being spoken in my head-I'm just putting it all out there. So maybe it actually doesn't make sense? Ha.

So that's it for now. I had notes and a bunch of other stuff about which to blog, and that stuff was actually compelling, but I'm ever the stoner and can't recall where I wrote the notes and how exactly I planned on threading it all together so sober and/or sane people could read it. I'm sure it'll come to me at an ungodly hour and spew out like a baby unicorn-a bumbling mess birthed from something beautiful but probably inherently nonexistent.

Till then.

xox

OH! Speaking of unicorns... just click it. Trust me.

so i'm back to the velvet underground

Farewell, remorse: all good to me is lost; Evil, be thou my good. 

-John Milton, Paradise Lost  (bk. IV, l. 108)

You know, it's not that I'm unhappy here. It's just that I am inherently stir-crazy. I am a gypsy. I was a born traveler. My father was an army brat born literally on the beaches of the Philippines. He grew up, went to the army, then traveled the world and the US as a musician and jack-of-all-trades during gaps in lucrative musical opportunities. It's no wonder I am how I am- look at him.

I've moved and gone on trips for as far back as I can remember. We were always moving somewhere else, for some other reason. I never had a problem with it though. Of course I was upset like any kid would be, having been moved and severed friendships a few times in a few years. But I knew I had to take it in stride because that's just how things were. 

Funny enough, I'm now a complete contradiction when it comes to moving and forming relationships, and the types of places I seek out. I love being anonymous-love being just another face in the crowd. I loathe small towns with nothing to do for fun (nothing bar or music related, I mean). However, I feel superb on a stage and in front of hundreds or thousands of people, and I actually enjoy having a social 'network'. I just don't care. I love the hustle and bustle of a big city where no one knows your name, but I don't really care if everyone knows my name. It's a preference thing I guess. 

Ugggh. The joys and simultaneous pitfalls of smoking pot-digressing to the point of indifference about one's original intent. Sigh.

I just need to get the hell away for awhile. A weekend, a month, a year, forever. Whatever. Change it up, life! Charge into the china shop and break that shit! 

The most appropriate word for my vibe lately is 'electric,' and that's just how I feel. There are thousands of words more eloquent and surely more engrossing than that one, but it's the one that sticks out. And feeling so electric, I feel like I need to be around energy that matches my own-energy that's at once chaotic and peaceful, vibrating with the night and the pulse of the city then riding low on an El with coffee as the sun rises in front of me. My god, the visuals in my head right now are so vivid. I can smell the grit of the concrete, the diesel in the air. I can feel the haze on my skin and the dewy touch of early morning humidity-the shock of cool air against moist skin. I hear the horns, alarms, shouts, wheels..the hum and clack of iron and steel of trains and the smell of water not far. 

I have a lifelong, torrid affair with the city. But I always love the way I feel the morning after.

xox

dead as dead can be

Between the guy who likes women to use his hand as an ashtray (yes-ash, put out and leave in his palm their cigarettes), and the guy who came in today who spoke hardly a lick of english (this is America, right? just checking.) and would ask a dancer if he could cut a piece of her hair off to take home, I'm convinced strip clubs are like the Humane Society for Crazy Fuckers.

Granted, these are both normal, acceptable fetishes. Neither is strange, especially if you're well-versed in the fetish world. However, the person requesting the act makes a big difference. Ashtray Guy is a normal, nice man with money to blow and a slightly off the wall degradation fetish. Cut-Your-Hair-and-Probably-Make-Lifesize-Sex-Dolls Dude is...not so much. Give him an inch and next thing you know he's skinning the fatties and dancing to Q Lazzarus. 

Let's not forget CYHaPMLSD Dude (hereafter, "CYH Dude") bore an uncanny resemblance to the Mexican in Constantine who discovers the spear of destiny. IE: creepy and most likely possessed. So combine his appearance, his broken (and slurred, I might add) english, his greasy skin (bleeeech) and his women's strands of hair fetish and we have..ta-da! A new Crazy Fucker inductee into our little topless bar refuge. 

Not to digress, but my GOD why don't people teach their dogs to shut the hell up? Newsflash: if your dog barks at everything, he probably won't effectively warn you when there's a real emergency. And he'll annoy the fuck out of your pothead-but-don't-let-that-fool-ya-I'm-a-crazy-bitch neighbor. Just sayin'.

Anyway. It's not all bad at the titty bar. I had a blast today, worked my ass (clothes?) off, and made some cash. The majority of customers in today were fun and good natured. This kind of day makes my job so much easier, and in turn makes the patrons' experience much more pleasant. Who wants to see a bunch of morose, whiny bitches at the strip club? No one. Especially when they aren't all hot. This is not the club where strippers go to die. (That's downtown).

xox

stay with me

"the city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo"

-John Milton, L'Allegro

+ + +

I have to get ready for work soon. I was awakened this morning by the garbage truck outside doing what sounded to be like pounding the dumpster against the pavement repeatedly. I'm sure this isn't what was occurring; regardless, it was irritating and harsh enough to make me blow off the last slap of the snooze button and get my ass out of bed.

Scent is a crazy thing. This morning the smell of a perfume I wore last year almost knocked me down. I wore it while selling dope and dating a complete head case. I loved the perfume, but it's going to be awhile now before I can wear it again without feeling transported to that time and place. I'm very in tune with my spiritual experiences and my emotions-something as simple as a bad experience being linked to a scent has a massive affect on my psyche. At the same time, there are scents that have very positive connotations, and these are the ones I seek out when that's what I'm needing.

Today is Friday at the club at which I work, which means $5 steak day. For a vegetarian, this is also known as "Roadkill Day". You ever smell a plate of steak, mashed potatoes and corn that costs $5? If you have, you understand.

A steak combined with two sides for five dollars is not a high quality steak. The patrons eat them up though, and Fridays are our busiest days. Hence my working on a day that glorifies one of the largest parts of the industry against which I have so much scorn. I'm still human-I still have to survive in this "economy". I depend on Fridays now for the sheer volume, because the rest of the week is so slow I spend more time smoking on the patio than actually working. It's sad when you realize you may get lung cancer from boredom. Who'd have thought?

I work in a gentlemen's club. I should say "strip club," because despite the efforts of our fearless leaders it has become less gentleman-like and more suburban topless club. We are pretty laid back and neighborhood-bar like, but this is almost to our detriment in dire times like these. Our customers are not all high rollers, and though many of them have plenty of money to throw around, unfortunately we get a lot of family men and working class guys. And when an economy problem arises, what are you gonna choose-buying dinner for the fam or blowing your wad (pun intended) on "Candy"? Paying the rent in your now-above-your-means home or making it rain (no need for a worse pun here, it's inherent) on "Destiny"? Exactly.

So I'm off. I could sit here all day and blog about nothing at all, but I won't. This time you're safe.

xox

expecting too much from the wounded?

I can't say that I'm any one thing. I like a lot and dislike many different things, and there are a great number of contradictory aspects of my life. Or seemingly contradictory.

I am an old soul who sometimes still feels like she's a child in a playground. I fall hard, fall fast, lust fully, and rip out at the limbs--unfortunately intensity is a word very near to me.

You may not like what I always have to say, but hopefully it will still captivate you. I've done the blog thing before, but never in as honest and raw a way as I am now. 

This could be a good or bad thing.

xox

welcome.

xox