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Monday, December 18th, 2006
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2:26 am
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Today was a long day that didn't really feel that long. I went to work (2 for 1 porno rentals) and got mildly disgusted by titles like "Teenage Cum Dumpsters," sold some dildos and got off at midnight, as opposed to 1 or 2 am.
Wonderful.
Sera doesn't have work tomorrow, but she's asleep nonetheless. I was hoping to have someone to drink with and maybe some sex, but instead I'm taking 99 proof shots and watching Man On Fire by myself. I've been on Facebook, Myspace, Livejournal and AIM all seeking some sort of human contact. Mostly I'm just sad because I could have gone to the strip club next door to where I work and at least gotten to hang out with two of my favorite coworkers. Blah.
But whatever. Update time.
The other night I called the cops on some drunk bicyclist who came in and grabbed a woman's ass at work. He came in again tonight - sober - and din't fucking get kicked out. I'm motherfucking irrate about that bullshit.
A few nights before that, this ridiculously rich gay guy came in and gave me a $400 gift certificate to his salon, but I can't find it in the phone book. It sucks.
Writing this has made me realize how miserable my life is going. Sorry. :(
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| Wednesday, November 8th, 2006
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7:01 pm - I keep putting my foot down...
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| Friday, November 3rd, 2006
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2:48 am - Those dogs can smell anything, so you gotta kick 'em in the throat.
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Tonight I left work early due to a very burpy and unhappy tummy. Who knew the warnings on prescription medicines were for real? I went over to Sera's, which is really just a futon in the living room, a very large flat screen tv, and a new farty orange kitten that isn't really ours. His name has not been decided upon yet, and he spends most of his time purring and looking for a nipple or sleeping. He's so goddamn cute.
Sera made me edamame and rubbed my tummy for a long time, we watched an overdue Halloween movie from Casa Video, and she fell asleep on my arm. And snored. It was beautiful.
Oh, and I have tendonitis in both of my ankles.
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| Sunday, January 22nd, 2006
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1:01 pm
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You did that on purpose. Because you enjoy it. ...That's not fair.
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(comment on this)
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| Sunday, January 15th, 2006
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2:46 am
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The shadow of your rhythm falls againt my palms and leaves me no choice... It was the truth. What else is there to say?
I adore you.
Up until now, this has never been too much.
Please... not another word.
Push it to the back of your throat, and in the morning it will be just. another. mistake.
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| Monday, December 12th, 2005
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3:27 pm
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| Saturday, December 10th, 2005
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11:50 pm
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And so the last shards of warmth faded and fell beneath the lines I drew for myself. Every moment dissolves into a dark uncertain lottery at the end of the day. Again. I turned away at just the wrong instant and made those pretty green eyes disposable. Whisper that line again, baby. Just a whisper... You don't want to be wrong.
And I don't want to be right.
Now bring the lights up slow this time. Keep holding there until you feel me exhale. Just this one breath... I promise.
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, November 11th, 2005
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2:17 am
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My life is this spinning mosaic of wonderful and dreadful things. This is not perfect; this is painful and fucked up and the last thing that I need - and nurturing and joyful and an entirely new side of me. I appreciate it more than I'd ever let you know, and I think you're well aware of that. You read me like no one has before, or maybe it's just that you call me out on everything that no one else bothers to.
I can't say I know what to call this, but it suits us.
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| Wednesday, October 19th, 2005
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12:34 am
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Little shards of emotion are chipping away at everything I thought I had a hold on. Why am I crying? What is it about the cold weather that shifts my grip on life? Oh, the memories. I remember all the fucking wonderfully intense emotions that flooded my veins - that seemed to be triggered by the wind. I got distracted... something broke down... I couldn't stop it.
It's hard to be content.
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| Tuesday, October 18th, 2005
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1:53 am
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I miss State Street so badly it hurts.
The weather is changing. When it gets cold I miss you more.
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| Tuesday, September 27th, 2005
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11:25 pm - just a thought.
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I didn't really know where to toss this univeral, pseudo-hypothetical question, so it ended up in my online journal where maybe at least it will be considered. I'm not expecting a response or anything, just wanted to put it down somewhere at least slightly public.
what ever happened to loving and cherishing our bodies? I'm starting to think that as a sex, women never really have... which actually shocks the living shit out of me. what about our bodies makes people so goddamn uncomfortable? why don't we study and observe and just fucking LOOK at our bodies the way we look at art in a museum? I'm fucking amazed every single day at the beauty that just radiates from the female form. women are living, thriving masterpieces. our bodies are miracles.
I feel like I'm one of a very few people who notice.
the first thing we identify when we see someone is if they're male or female, and yet we completely neglect the very things that make us such. now, I can't say that I'm as fascinated with the male form, but I am a lesbian. one step at a time, you know.
so I was stunned to find out that even other lesbians don't always notice or acknowledge what it is they supposedly love, what it is that they ARE. for the most part I've come to find that most women only look at their cunts if there's something wrong down there. what the fuck is that? like it's some secret to be hidden away or tended to occasionally.
did you know that women's bodies are synchronized with the moon?
I bet you appreciate the moon every time you see it, or at least observe how it looks. and I bet you think it's beautiful no matter where it is in its cycle.
I'm just fucking puzzled. I don't understand how these things are overlooked or ignored.
women are art, for fuck's sake.
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| Monday, September 26th, 2005
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9:00 pm
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lsu football. what can I say? it's a love/hate relationship.
every time I start to get into it I begin to think about all the issues in the world that actually matter, and then I feel guilty for letting myself get caught up in something so trivial. or I get angry that athletes are held in such high regard while philosophers, professors, and activists are basically ignored entirely. fuck.
and I still think my girlfriend's tummy noises are way more entertaining.
so, the good news is that I've enrolled myself in a program where they teach you how to make 150 different drinks, you take a test, and
tah-dah
certified bartender, thanks a bunch.
how the fuck does someone memorize 150 alcoholic beverages? that shit seems fucking hard. I suppose I could make notecards. the course itself costs $90, but they give you a bartender kit with all kinds of cool shit like a martini shaker. besides, i'll earn that all back after working for 3 nights, tops.
Ree's afraid I'll leave her because, apparently, being a bartender makes you positively irresistable and I'll be drowning in hot women.
even if that did happen, I doubt I'd have time to notice. or I'd be too tired.
maybe now I'll be able to afford that back piece I've been dying to get. woot.
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| Wednesday, September 14th, 2005
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8:42 am - um... ya know.
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this rhythm will soak into my bloodstream. it pulsates quietly against my eyes, whispering the idea of Revolution. it is the shadow caught in the back of my throat that promises the motion of morning. this trust rests just behind my lips or folds itself between my palms. words fade to red or brown and fall, satisfied, through the comfort of silence.
still there is the hollow knocking of transition within my veins. its silhouette lingers in the map of my fingerprints and in the velocity of my voice. there will be no regret.
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| Saturday, September 3rd, 2005
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1:55 am
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Today was my first day at CAAWS, and I just wanted to hang out there and play with the animals all day. Jenny Payne introduced me to everyone, and we got to name the new kitten. Actually, Jenny named her (Sappho), and my job is to keep the rest of the volunteers from vetoing it. Apparently, it happens a lot. And of course when they get adopted the new owners often change their names. Julius Caesar got changed to Mittens or some bullshit like that.
Blaire also got pictures of my house so my mom will relax a bit. (Thank you, baby.) But I'm still sharing a queen size bed with my mother... except for when I spend the night with Alyssa, in which case I'm inhaling all of her cold germs and getting a sore throat.
I could always just sleep in the cat room at CAAWS.
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| Wednesday, August 31st, 2005
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12:49 pm
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They've opened up LSU as a shelter for evacuees and such, so I don't have class until at least Tuesday. It's a really fucked up excuse for a vacation, and I miss my WGS class, but at least I don't have to deal with Biology.
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| Tuesday, August 30th, 2005
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11:36 am - Hurricane Katrina
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My mom is at my apartment because of all the damage to Slidell. I'm pretty sure my house is pretty well destroyed, so she probably can't go home for a long time. My cell phone isn't working, there's barely any clean water, and no electricity in Slidell.
People are dying, and no one can get to them.
I've been watching the news since power came back on, and there's flooding everywhere. They're saying that power won't get back to New Orleans fully for months. I can't reach any of my friends in New Orleans, and I keep seeing houses on fire... UNO underwater... the twin spans destroyed.
This is fucking scary. A woman called the news station and said she was in her attic with her mother, 2 year old, and 2 month old, and they were up to their chests in water. They're trying to send help, but none of this looks good.
This makes me want to join the coast guard.
Seriously.
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| Friday, August 26th, 2005
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12:04 pm
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I am so. fucking. angry.
I'm tired of being terrorized and harassed by dirty old men who work at gas stations. The man who sold me cigarettes last night put his hand on the small of my back while telling me in broken english how beautiful he thought I was, and then brushed his fingertips across my ass.
Did he think I couldn't feel it? Did he think it was okay? That I fucking enjoy that?
Now, this is not the reason why I'm a lesbian... but it does make his actions even more repulsing than they already are. Of course he didn't take into consideration the fact that I might have a boyfriend or girlfriend, or that I might have been raped recently, or that I might have an uncle in the mafia. None of that ever crossed his mind. Why do men like that never consider what my life might be like?
And I'm fucking angry that I feel apprehensive to talk about it because people might think that, because I was wearing a low cut shirt, maybe I provoked it. That maybe it's my fault and I deserve it. Maybe that's just what women with large breasts or a sexy figure have to put up with.
"That's just how it is."
I shouldn't have to be concerned about wearing a tank top in public because of assholes like that. I shouldn't have to be concerned that if I smile and say hello, it's being interpreted as an invitation to stare at my breasts or grope me. It's not fucking fair. It's not fucking right.
And I hate that the people who don't experience it are less likely to acknowledge that it's terrorism. Why aren't more people offended by it? Why do people pass it off as funny? Why is it that I'm the one who is overreacting?
Why isn't anyone doing anything??
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| Monday, August 22nd, 2005
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10:27 pm
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I just found out that my lectures for my Images of Women in Literature class are going to be given by Lillian Bridwell-Bowles, and both of our books are edited by her. Apparently, she's amazing. Probably one of the more advanced professors in the Women and Gender Studies department. I have my first class tomorrow, but I might be transferring into a different section. My sister knows one of the women who teaches the actual Tuesday/Thursday class, and she says I should try to get into her section.
I heart having academic hook-ups.
Bailey keeps trying to eat my hair, and it's fucking cute. By the way, where's my child support??
You know who you are. :)
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| Thursday, August 18th, 2005
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1:30 am - it's your chance to play god
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eighteen doesn't feel any different than seventeen. doesn't look much different, either.
well, except for my left eyebrow.
now I can go to bar shows and buy tobacco products whenever I want. I gotta get on that...
there was more to write about on State.
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| Sunday, August 7th, 2005
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12:54 am - Internet access + digital cable = me not leaving my apartment
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I moved into a new apartment because my last landlord was a fucking psycho, and now I have internet access again so... these are just a couple things I would have written about in the last month or so:
1. my ex-neighbor Adrian was meditating outside his door one morning, and I thought about it all the way to class. It made me want to be a photographer.
2. I finally got the opportunity to save a turtle, but it was much larger than the first two I tried to save. it was raining and I saw this big ass turtle flopping down Highland on campus, so I pulled over and tried to put it in the grass. it tried to bite my finger off and almost got me with its tallons, and after I put it down it just flopped right back into the street. I'm starting to think it's just not meant to be.
3. my sister did my tarot card reading one night when I was crying over some dumb girl, and I got a revolution spread.
4. being around my sister and her friends makes my life better.
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