Lead-pipe pipe-dreams

01 July 2009 @ 05:36 pm

the second death of clarence mitodely, esq

me: AAOOWOWOWO

clarence just fell on my fooooot!

FUCK

OWW

AND SHATTERED

cehelm: uh

GOOD

me: NO NOT GOOD

OWOOWWW
cehelm: i mean

FATE

he only hurts people

me: FUCKING CLARENCE

cehelm: best to leave him broken

and scattered across the earth

with clues in various places

me: I GLUED YOUR ASS BACK TOGETHER
cehelm: leading some future davinci err tom hanks

to put those pieces together

me: FALL ON BEN'S FOOT

cehelm: revealing the secret society of

uh

me: GODDAMMIT

cehelm: i dont know the name

but this society
me: i am going to kill that damn dog

cehelm: in its effort to make the entire world feel the pain of only seeing things in green

me: I AM GOING TO KNOCK THAT BASKET RIGHT OUT OF HIS MOUTH
cehelm: only power when the idol is fully assembled

me: fucking. clarence.

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04 June 2009 @ 09:33 pm

wake me, shake me, please don't let me sleep too long

brooklyn brooklyn brooklyn, how i adore your sweet little face. paul and i broke up a serious hairball flying catfight in the backyard, in which orange cat tried to get up on black cat with torn ear's gray ladies, and let me tell you kids, it was not happening. we also made crabcakes.
thunderstorms come in the night quickly and then give way to sun and hotland. we have a case of wine and two cartons of eggs. buster has proven himself to be quite handicapable and has somehow made it down the stairs twice without anyone noticing. quasimodo bustin' out the belltower.
i've been applying to jobs that i am entirely not qualified for, including trying to con my way into a job as a floral designer in the upper west side.
lies lies lies.

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20 April 2009 @ 12:32 pm

by the by

this is also going on again:
http://lambinawoolsweater.wordpress.com/

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20 April 2009 @ 12:11 pm

30...

so we've descended back into bad weather here in the big apple, at least for today. lightning tomorrow, then hopefully back to sunny-sun-sun? c'mon pleeze.
i jumped on the pirate bay bandwagon way too late, but just soon enough to download bruce springsteen's greatest hits. fuck all y'all. i do what i want.
this is what happens when you're raised in the closest thing to a blue-collar family on stanford campus (we had a mutt dog, christmas lights, and a lawn *banjo twangs, rooster crows, be-spandexed man on a recumbent bike pedals by*)
...I aint looking for praise or pity
I aint coming round searching for a crutch
I just want someone to talk to
And a little of that human touch
Just a little of that human touch...

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12 April 2009 @ 02:34 am

i wanna be a part of it--

ok. ok. ok. YOU WIN, MOTHERFUCKER. bustin' out all your springtime and dancin' and walks and bizarre subway conversation with coked-out odwalla-drinking israeli ex-ballet-students. fine. i concede, albiet ungraciously.

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11 April 2009 @ 10:42 am

whew.

what a fucking night.

also, alina has inspired me to start doing push-ups in the morning. I WANNA BE IN THE GUN SHOW! I WANNA BE IN THE GUN SHOW!

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24 March 2009 @ 11:54 am

this is what happens when you take a break from pot

last night, i dreamed:

+that while i was cutting paul mccartney's hair, he told me that Nolita was the vagina of manhattan, and that Bowery on Broadway were her legs. for some reason, i was really intent on the phrasing of this statement during the dream (and even subsequently in later dreams that night) but i've since forgotten it. I think it was something like "and then there's Nolita, when you follow to the top of those legs." then we paddled a rowboat through a tunnel and emerged into a strange jungle city with tangles of rusty waterslides.

+that the manson family were going to break through my window to cut off my feet, so i had to pull my feet up to my chest while they shined the headlights of their truck into my bedroom.

+that i could teleport, but only by leaving my body and turning into a kind of translucent jessica-shaped jelly that rolled around on the floor and couldn't speak.

also, i managed to give my roommate whatever poetry program death virus it was that i picked up and so was amply repaid for my all-night coughing of last week. i have racoon circles under my eyes and can barely string two words together.
however, i did go to spanish class after skipping out all semester and after three hours of studying the book in my room went into class and fucking owned. that's right, i can talk about my spring break in the preterite. that's right, i can formulate compound sentences on the spot and even make fucking jokes.
wait. back up just a second. does this mean that i'm actually good at something marketable? am i good at learning languages? is my life saved?
maybe, nolita. maybe.

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17 March 2009 @ 01:50 pm

full moon fever

in the few days that my roommates have been gone, i've come to realize exactly why i can never live alone. in my care, apartments become massive garbage sloughs dotted with occasional pieces of "conceptual art" (usually trash colored with markers or tear-outs from abisola's inshape style mag) stacked up, dotting the decay. we are in cigarette butts in half full coffee mugs territory, folks. bachelor pad business. i'm weirdly proud of myself.
ANYWAY. the day is beautiful and i am going to OPEN THE WINDOWS and air the place out and get my life in order. I Am Going To Become Wonderful.

Current Music: tom petty only

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11 March 2009 @ 02:27 pm

pride comes before a fall

so, as i've apparently announced to everyone i know (seriously, last night people were coming up to me saying things like "so i saw on facebook that you were sick." i don't know how i feel about that) i am sick. i am sick because i was bragging to a sick diana about how i hadn't gotten sick yet and feeling mighty pleased with myself. and as i usually tend to do when i'm sick, i've been going out drinking/smoking as soon as i get remotely better, ensuring that i will wake up the next morning feeling awful and prolonging this bullshit weeks longer than necessary. i just can't control myself, at all, apparently.
still waiting to hear back from trader joe's. i have begun to compile a list of things that i am going to buy when i get a job (because at the moment i can't buy shit. thank god my tax return came or i would be up shit creek without a paddle)
1) a haircut
2) new shoes (i have to duct tape my old boots that have a hole in the heel, or at least i would, if i had any duct tape)
3) a spring coat
4) a subscription to the believer

this list will be added to as time goes on.
so what should i talk about, now that i'm stuck in bed and bored out of my snot-clogged mind?
i'm getting skinnier because i can't swallow! so at least there's a silver lining to this cloud! (kidding! kidding!)

there's something about physical discomfort that completely renders the subject unable to conceptualize anything else. all i can talk about to anyone is the fact that i'm sick. did you know i'm sick? i'm sick. i was a little better yesterday, but today i'm sicker. two days ago i was about as sick as i am today but i was coughing instead of sore throating and in the middle my sinuses got kind of bad and i wonder when i'm going to get better and blah blah blah blah

it's like how suddenly i've started talking about the weather. now that i have it.
and.
yeah.
time for more tea.

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11 March 2009 @ 01:02 pm

yikes.

last night i had a conversation with my roommate while she was still sleeping. if you've never done this before, i would (not) highly recommend it.
so i get home, and she's lying asleep with her computer on, watching something. i go over to ask her to turn the sound off.
"sandy."
...
"sandy."
...
"hey sandy!"
at this point she opens her eyes, but there's something not quite right. they're kind of glazed over and staring off into the middle distance.
"huh?"
"can you turn the sound off?"
"okay"
she sort of hammers her fingers on her computer and something else starts playing.
"i've showered with both of them."
"...what?"
"i've showered with both of them."
"uh..."
"here and there...mumble mumble..."
"okay."
"wait. what's happening right now?"
"i'm asking you to turn the sound off."
"ohhh!" at this point she closes the computer and puts it down. "i thought we were all watching it."
"no, i just wanted you to turn the sound off."
"okay...you know sometimes we're all drunk."
"yes."
"annn...belligerent."
"yep. goodnight."
"goodnight."

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02 March 2009 @ 12:11 am

really, though,

new snow.

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01 March 2009 @ 11:17 am

someone

should really buy this for me:

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22 February 2009 @ 03:41 pm

the laws sometimes sleep, but never die.

so the weather here in new york is being really horrendous, bleak and gray and damp. scotland style. since moving here, i have found myself compelled to talk about the weather almost constantly, about which i feel kind of guilty, as if i’m being unabashedly boring. but it’s important, goddammit! this shit effects my mood. i suppose it’s sort of like telling people your dreams. you know nobody really wants to hear about it and yet you go boldly forward anyway.

i would really like to smoke some weed right now, but my roommates model friend from houston is here for fashion week and i’m not sure how all that would be recieved.

last night i went to a going-away party for a friend i met when i first moved here. it was around the end of august/beginning of september, when things had just started to get slightly less sweaty and miserable (there’s the weather again) i took the L to williamsburg (my first impression of it was ‘not that bad’ and i guess despite all my bitching, i maintain that sentiment) to meet up with mike, his ex-boyfriend’s friend annie (also our friend at this point) and her friend sam (the one now moving away). it’s strange to think of myself then, at the beginning of this sojurn (almost six months at this point), compared with now. strange, yeah, but i don’t know exactly how. am i different? i feel a little turned-up a lot of the time, a little more intense, a little more pale, but that’s really about it. i guess i know more about poetry than i did before. i guess i’m less misanthropic than i thought i’d be (about the same, a steady 7 or 8).

anyway. same is leaving due to layoffs and economic bullshit, and had a party at her loft in greenpoint as a farewell, which also happened to correspond with her roommate’s girlfriend’s birthday. i’ll sum it up. 40 foot dragon hanging from the cieling, fortune cookies, birthday girl in an anime wig being really intensely spanked by this roommate boyfriend while cameras clicked away at her spread buttcheeks (los angeles? fancy seeing you here!). a friend of mine from the program who is taking a vow of silence simply wrote “wtf” on my ring finger, which allowed us to signal one another when certain things like fire dancing, flickering light-up balls, and extended dance remixes of “walk that dinosaur” were produced.

christine and i composed a freestyle rap about hot topic and took turns shouting fortune-cookie fortunes at each other.

“good news will come to you from far away!” (got that one three times. i sure hope so)

“you will be showered with good luck!”

“god has given you one face, and you make yourselves another!”

“you and your wife will be very happy together!”

“the laws sometimes sleep, but never die!”

good times. sam, you will be missed.

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16 February 2009 @ 11:31 pm

all the things you c#

(yeah yeah yeah!)

Moviestar
1. Put your iTunes on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
***

2. If someone says, “Is this okay?” You say?
the prettiest star--david bowie

3. How would you describe yourself?
i fought the law--the clash (seriously, mike.)

4. What do you like in a guy/girl?
no name no. 3--elliot smith

5. How do you feel today?
human behaviour--bjork

6. What is your life’s purpose?
scrapping and yelling--the royal tannenbaums soundtrack (pretty much)

7. What is your motto?
boys--the beatles

8. What do you think about very often?
sleeping on the roof--the flaming lips (all the time)

9. What is 2 + 2?
familiar expressions--george carlin

10. What do you think of your best friend?
curtain call--the olivia tremor control (well that's depressing)

11. What do you think of the person you like?
if i should lose you--nina simone (also depressing)

12. What is your life story?
famous eyes--ryan adams (damn right)

13. What do you want to be when you grow up?
a wolf at the door--radiohead

14. What do you think of when you see the person you like?
habitat--mos def (WHAT.)

15. What will you dance to at your wedding?
cherry blossom girl--air

16. What will they play at your funeral?
lonesome road--madeline peyroux

17. What is your hobby/interest?
the girl i love she got long black wavy hair--led zeppelin

18. What is your biggest fear?
monsoon--enon (close enough)

19. What is your biggest secret?
the wind--cat stevens (yes.)

20. What do you think of your friends?
souljacker, part 1--eels (fuck you guys)

21. What will you post this as?
all the things you c#--mingus

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12 February 2009 @ 07:46 pm

today

i successfully navigated a street crossing in the four foot wide gap between two moving city buses, only to be promptly smacked in the face by a woman carrying an antique hat stand.

I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK.

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23 January 2009 @ 01:14 am

well.

my grand plans for taking czech this semester have been dashed, because, surprise, it wasn't offered, because, surprise, nobody cares enough about out little country to bother to set up a class for us.
it's a strange thing to watch your culture die.
i had a lot of hope for us, it's true. we've managed ourselves through a lot of not-caring through the years. we've managed being sold by the US to the germans, and then subsequently to the Red Army. we've managed the austro-hungarians and the mongolians and the turks and the huns. maybe we'll manage the americans. maybe, but i doubt it, because we've sold ourselves out this time, and if we've done it to ourselves, then theres' no way we're going to pull ourselves out of it (let's meditate on the strangeness of me trying to pick which group of people to call myself 'we' with. americans? czechs? both? what? who? where?) sure, we've got our kafka, our kundera, our havel, our goddamn new wave, we can attempt to jog people's memory with the mala strana and the orly and the sedmikrasky and libuce and everything, but that won't change the fact that cousin martina is having a baby with an englishman and dashenka is riding around in a mustang and wearing revlon and slavek is flying for korean air and moving to seoul and little ruzenka (the baby in the basket hopefully floated down the river) is wide awake in new york city and hard as she may try, can't even begin to find a person who will teach her to speak her own language.
the truth is, we're doomed, we're done for, and nobody cares.

anyway. on a more practical note:
spanish or mandarin?

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19 January 2009 @ 03:03 pm

(no subject)

bill fox is very different (and in the case of certain, more wistful songs, better) in the snow. i highly recommend it, if possible.
i landed at jfk at dawn this morning, the sunrise all red and ridiculous over neat squares of white. i would have taken a picture had i been able to keep my eyes open for long enough to reach for my bag. after a ride home from a friendly cabbie who told me i looked like a dominican soap opera star (one whose name he conveniently couldn't rememeber) and told me that my move from san francisco to new york makes me an "immigrant at home," (more on that one later) i ended up once again in my mouse infested apartment, a little bit worse/better for wear. immediately passed out for four hours (bringing my running sleep total for the last...five days up to about sixteen hours), made a run to trader joes, was discouraged by the line and absconded to food emporium, shook the snow out of my hair and am now baking a spinach pie.

sheesh. new york. so much so, yes. despite my recent realization that i could, if i wanted to, maybe be really fucking happy in san francisco, i know that this is right. very much so. crossing the street against the light, traffic whooshing by, snow flakes melting on my bottom lip and sticking in my eyelashes, picking out the squirrel tracks outside my apartment.

and on and one into the night.

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12 January 2009 @ 05:24 pm

ah,

new york. i miss you and your bad attitude.

also:
summertime clothes! again! again! again! can't wait until it's actually summer and i can play this shit realistically. roxy, (ironically) does not care for animal collective and hides under the bed whenever i play the album.

...And we'll breath the dawn in its morning blues
With purple yawns, you'll be sleeping soon
And I want to walk around with you
And I want to walk around with you..

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07 January 2009 @ 09:09 am

morf.

got far too stoned last night and ended up declaring to a good deal of my friends over text message that i wanted to become a shaman. not a bad idea, really. maybe that should be my summer project. i then proceeded to go through one of my mom's fashion magazines (marie claire, if i'm not mistaken) and cut out every picture that i found mortally offensive (yes, mortally, not morally). they included

-three shots of the squinty-eyed guy from gossip girl. one rolling up on a moped ("rolling up to a downtown cafe in style" to be exact), one lying on the grass cradling a soccer ball with the caption that said something about "lads" and "ball," i'm not sure what, and one sitting on a stool pouting with a microphone "as the lead singer of the filthy youth" i greatly hope that these are all from the show and aren't actual manifestations of how homeboy wishes to be portrayed.

-an asian woman with her hair in a bun whose lower body has transformed into a flat, wide, golden ribbon.

-a picture of a set of five bic pens made of solid gold

-keira knightley

-the michelin man with a tag that says "INSPIRATION?"

-some before/after fat person photos

don't know what i'm going to do with this collection. i should probably throw them away before my mom finds them and thinks i'm making some sort of horribly deranged scrapbook.

and now i'm off to pet my dog on the belly.

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06 January 2009 @ 09:37 am

true i'd give my right arm, to keep you safe from harm

back in california, at long long last. had an english muffin with LAUGHING COW CHEESE (how's that for liaws? i need to mention also that masha recently told me about a funeral she went to, the rosary was being read, when suddenly a distressed balding man in a suit burst into the room "whoever has a white toyota needs to move it, there has been an accident in the parking lot and the paramedics can't get in" she almost had to leave the room from holding back laughter, because all she could think was how "well at least they're not too far away" and "it was just so lamb-sweater!" masha is a sick lady, and a block of the old chip.)
and true, for you i'd move to ecuador
i think the thing to do now is roll up a tin foil pipe (it's not going to kill me if i do it just once), smoke the wee bit of weed i was able to collect on my one night sojourn in los angeles, and play with roxy among the lemon trees.
and i'd keep a little farm, chop wood to keep you warm
back to LA tomorrow, at what time? 4:55. I'll take the flyaway bus, then let myself into the apartment. did diana give me the keys? i don't remember. it was discussed, but i'm not sure if she actually did. purse check. yes. here are keys i assume to be correct. i will put them on the keychain with the tiny golden gun on it that i got from the vending machine at C-Town (town town town) in harlem, the night that man on the street grabbed my crotch and christine and i just laughed about it.
but i don't really love you anymore.
roxy does not like mac sound effects ONE BIT.

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