i have this hanging in my room





the following is some commentary i recieved on it:

"i did a little paper thingy on her... medusa used to be very beautiful and she was having * a little affair with posideon so athena got jealous, so she cast a spell or something on her, so she would be ugly and hideoues, and whoever looked at her i the eye, would turn to stone....
green is the color of jealousy, and the snakes in her hair are green so maybe athena was jealous of her and posideon.
thats just a little theory of mine......."

-age nine

*insert flucuation of tone of voice and flamboyant hand movements here

jethro tull said it best.....

so, its been years and years since i have listened to this record. on vinyl.
today is a funny day. the only way i could foresee getting myself back on track was to dig out my box of records, and play some.
so, far, its working.
and it's reminding me of a life i want so badly, yet feel so far away from.

i want a record player in my living room and my cd player in the closet. nyc has converted some of my music into digital nothingness forcing it onto an ipod. up until the spring i still rocked a cd walkman.
people asked frequently if i was stuck in 1992.

i want the dishes in my cupboards to be mismatched, and the heat to be on the fritz. stuck at 62 forcing me into sweaters i wouldn't wear otherwise. stuck under covers with yerba mate or sickly strong black coffee and the record player spinning my favorite sarah vaughn album. i would dance in the kitchen, singing the pretenders.

i want a garden in the summer. planting in the spring, harvesting in the fall. i want to can vegetables, that way i would be eating summer year round. i would sit in that garden, all day and when it got dark i would drink beverages in my favorite well-weather-worn chair. i watch lightning bugs and curse mosquitos. getting drunk on the smell of honeysuckle.

a lover whom i could drink in. an intoxicating smile, a laugh that is best music i ever heard. i would make dinners through kisses and read poetry afterward as if on a pedestal.

constant drives on the beach giving way to very long walks. if i had my way, a canine would accompany me and i would be barefoot in the warmer months. i would wear bells on my ankles, and jump into the water with all of my clothes on.

a lot of these thoughts have to do with this freezing weather that has descended upon us. however, they also contain an element of unattainable, because of my currently residing in a very large metropolitan area.
sometimes i think of how many people inhabit a square mile of where i live. it makes my head spin.
and i also think of how there are no ways out.

these thoughts are of maine. i don't even think i would mind the snow. the cold. i would get snowshoes and tredge up hills. into forests. stay. make friends with squirrels. start to remember tress by their first names...

it's 2009.

time to start all over again. we'll see where we get this time....

fuck text messages.
fuck this stupid holiday bullshit.
fuck missing my friends and my family so much i want to puke.
fuck wanting to drink jamesons' and fall into a catatonic state until dec 24.
fuck baking a pie and burning my finger.
fuck being totally alone and listening to stupid sad music.
fuck crying hysterically and trying to eat clementines.

what a stupid shitty day.

Last night as i was revising my essay on queer representation in the media and the marketing of the stereotypes attached with gay men, izzi came into my room. she does this sometimes, to stall her 'getting ready for bed' process and we usually talk about her day, or what shes going to be for halloween, or her upcoming birthday.
she climbed up onto my bed and sat next to me. she started asking about my piercings and my ears, specifically. this isn't the first time she has inquired about such things, and then, she asked about a photograph of the kayan women (from burma) that i have on my wall.

she said that they looked happy but it was weird that they had long necks. she couldn't understand how this happened, and after i explained it to her (that they actually don't enlongate the neck, how they get them on, what they mean), i decided she should see them. we watched youtube videos about them, and then about the Suri women with lip plates.


it was amazing.
one of the best times i've had with her because she was so genuinely interested and didn't pass judgement the whole time. while expressing that she thought it was different we also talked about how some people in other cultures may think that piercing your ears was really weird, or how women in the United States are so skinny, and how that may be looked at taboo in other places.
this was my favorite thing about yesterday.

since i've been studying all day, throughout the sunshine cascading over brownstones in my neighborhood, i decided tonight i would go for a walk.
in search of another iced coffee
to do more studying.
i also decided to listen to 23, the blonde redhead album that saw me through one of the most amazing and lonely times in my life: philadelphia.
because my sensory perception was completely engulfed by my headphones, and because during that time in my life i underwent some tremendous change, i found it hard to breathe while i listened to this musical masterpiece.
i will never forget the time he asked me to tie my hair back to cover my tattoo and shaved head.
i will never forget the time she bit me. head jerked back so violently i'm surprised she didnt suffer from whiplash.... i did instead.
i will never forget all the cigarettes and hangovers i had in that apartment, gunshots heard from my bedroom window.
or some of the not so lonely times. sunday mornings. and most things i've repressed so deeply i wonder if they will ever emerge.
once i went to a blonde redhead concert. coincidentally, it was in philadelphia. that morning i had, coincidentally, gone to the temple and the only food i had eaten was prasad. so at the concert, i decided to imbibe several glasses of jamesons' whiskey, making it unable for me to drive my car home. the person i was with did, thankfully. he also had not requested, that time, i tie my hair back to hide my head tattoo which apparently was too radical for his conservative, tight ass, high end bartending friends. before the car home, i sat down on the filthy so. philly sidewalk to talk to a pitbull. i don't remember anything after that. the next day i had the worst hangover of my life. i sort of stopped drinking a lot after that...

which brings me to my next matter of business.
the day by day photo album on this here myspace o' mine needs to be cleared up. sometime last summer going back to my emotionally overwrought days in the city of brotherly love, i began to notice aging in myself. my face began to take on lines and features that weren't there, or noticeable, before. did this new spot under my eye come from the amount of cigarettes i smoked? the two pots of french press coffee every morning for 7 months? the city and its stresses/pollution?? the lovers that appeared as easily as the spark of a lighter, but only lasted as long as the flame (on a bic, not a zippo)?? it's really very hard to tell....
and i am getting old.
sometimes i hate myself. my face. my eyes, un-proportioned. my ideas. the body i feel trapped in.
and when i'm some years advanced, this will all seem hilarious to me. in parts, it already does. so i am documenting my aging. i am trying to catch myself in the act. that is the vanity behind those photos. in the days to come, rapidly approaching a year since this project started, i will be posting the new photos next to the old ones. it will prove the points previously mentioned.. just so it doesn't get misconstrued.

there are some people in the house across the way,and they are playing the guitar and singing. some sort of.....folk music. i have nothing against folk music. but right now,i find it highly offensive. they sound like everyone else and just by hearing their voices i could probably give you an accurate description of the clothes they are wearing. individuals don't exist here. everyone is just like everyone else, i'm trapped. my music is turned up so as to drown them out. i hope they hear it and are equally offended.

you know whats REALLY hard? not being able to be friends with exs who at one point in your non-lover relationship were very close friends of yours. KNOW WHY? because they have new girlfriends that won't let them come out to play... for a multitude of reasons i'm sure. i want to write them all letters explaining to them the only reason they feel this way is because this is the way society wants us to be. women against women. im really ok and like sweden, or switzerland. neutral, baby.
i really just miss them. how unfair.


upcoming things i am excited about: the fall. more school, brain explosions. halloween. lunch with a woman that may pay me for herbal medicine advice. possible upstate get away with a long time friend. visit from a lovely lady from maine. jew holidays.

ok. my gender, race and class textbook is waiting for me. i have to read twelve pages about porn capitalization. critical reading sucks. but this may not be so bad...

i have been tired all day. i woke to my father stirring in the bathroom. he has no discretion for anyone once he is awake, so turning over to my side with a bad leg, i shoved my face in the pillow and sought 2 hours of more rest; succumbing instead to shrill voices of cousins and aunts in the room next to where i slept. so now, i'm drinking coffee.

i'm suppose to be writing a note to quit my job.

i'm suppose to be figuring out how to pay my tuition with a convenient payment plan of my choosing.

i don't really feel like doing any of that though. 

i have decided i would like to live on a boat in a harbor. maybe just in the summers, and one winter, to see what it was like. the winter, i mean. the boat part is something i am definately into.

other things i've really enjoyed lately: chopping wood.

i have decided i would never ever like to live in florida. i actually don't really even want to visit, but i probably will, again, at some point. i used to go often when i was a kid. i remember it being so green. it probably is still that way, however i am flooded with images of overly tan college coeds, drinking fruity drinks on the beach, out of ridiculiously large cups. cups that cover the entire face of the girls who drink them. images of moth balls.brains fried by too much sun and bleaching of hair. i don't appreciate these images. some may, though. thats probably why they are in florida.

things i really enjoy the taste of: black coffee accompanied with cigarettes (and only), burnt marshmallows, porter and stout brewed beer, dark chocolate with espresso beans, and slightly charred homemade sweet potato chips. something about those carbon, dark, forbidden yet coveted tastes gets me everytime.

sometimes i say things and it gets me into trouble. i have a hard time holding my tongue even when i know i should. ESPECIALLY when i know i should. i don't know what is so satifying about calling a spade, a spade - but it really completes me. puts my mind at ease. i guess i'm just happy i'm ok with the person that i am. even if thats out-spoken and obnoxious bitch sometimes. oh well.

 

she said "oh my god! didn't that hurt?" she leaned in close and inspected my leg like it was in fact the open wound it was. i am non-chalant. i am rubbing lotion on my freshly tattooed thigh. casually i explained. no. its fine. really.

"what about when your EIGHTY? what THEN?"

this was the pop quiz i had been waiting for all day.

"well, when i'm eighty, i don't think i'll care. i'm going to be sitting in my garden eating raw green beans and drinking lemonade with lemon balm leaves stuck to the side of the glass. with my huge jellyfish-atlantis-on-my-thigh... but we'll see"

 

ok. i have to go. l-train is here and we are going to have amazing times. hopefully we will listen to tough chick music and maybe she'll smoke a cigarette. i will be entertaining because i've just had a lot of coffee. i feel like perhaps i'll get some noodles for consumption (eating. comida. not the 20th century sickness) .... yeah. thats it.

i don't think i was ready.
but i rarely am.

once someone told me that i'm bad at making decisions and sticking to them.
because for me, its like the rusty bike that grass grow up around. leaving the earth moist underneath and the blades barely photosynthesized. sometimes i just think its unfair. that all plant cells have chlorophyll. that maybe i'll move the bike and see what its like over there. but i always forget, there's grass all over the lawn.

and i don't even like analogies.
and thats probably not a very good one.

my best friend is in the hospital with a skull fracture. i am hundreds of miles away and i just want to be by her.

my heart is breaking for a few reasons and all i keep replaying in my mind is the walk-away yesterday afternoon.
she sat stoned on her stoop.
i walked with my body leaning to one side too much, weighed down by the months of sharing clothes. lopsided due to my heart, perhaps, filling with blood on one side more then the other. or the tears emerging from my left eye, not as much from my right.
the walk from 122nd to lefferts never seemed that long before. (it was actually always too short. the bottom of the stairs subway kisses. 'see you soon' said in less words with more feeling)
except for the first time, when i didn't know my way.

i usually throw myself into things. drown or defeat.
and now i feel like i'm drowning. tears streaking down my face with my constant reminder that it really is for the better.
but i'm heavy.

atleast i'm not leaning to one side too much.
atleast all of me is weighed down the same.

the days weather was sunny. slight breeze through clear skies, south to southwesterly. the sidewalk was hot but the stink that creeps its way to so many of manhattan's days was non-existent. the sun shone on bare shoulders, the tops of feet. and amidst conversations 8.2 million wide, the three we focus on now, just passing the west side highway, goes something like this:

11 year old: hey _____, what's it called when someone has a fear, or like, doesn't like gay people??

______: homophobic.

11 yo: yeah, thats it! because at my camp, there's this kid, and he's really homophobic.

8 year old: i don't get that.

_______: well. sometimes, people are homophobic because they were taught that by their parents. other times, its something called 'self-loathing homophobia' and that is when people are attracted to the same sex, but scared to admit it.

11 yo: yeah, i don't think he's one of those.....

8 yo: i don't get how sometimes people can just *think* things their *parents* think. like they have no ideas of their own.

______: usually its about things like political figures, and religion, being gay....

11 yo: yeah, especially politically. the kids at other schools don't know anything about the candidates. but they just say they like one of them because it's who their parents like.....like my cousins, they don't even know about john mccain, and they like him. but they can't say why.

8 yo: i like barack obama.

8 swings the plastic she's been carrying for the past two hours around and around. an old woman scowls at her and mumbles something about how she's going to hit someone...

11 yo: me too

______: why do you like barack obama?

11: well, he will end the war the quickest. and he will get the help people need.

8: yeah, and help the environment.


11: and the economy! thats my biggest concern. i mean, yesterday when we were walking, we went by the unemployment center and it was just lined around the block. its so bad! and gas! and food!

_______: yeah. food costs are pretty crazy right now....

11: but there is one thing i don't like about obama.....

_____: whats that??

11: he's against gay marriage.

8: yeah.....

______: well, i think its really hard for a potential president to say if he's for it or against it at this point in the campaign

11: right, because it could sway the vote.

_______: exactly.

8: but i mean, what's the difference in who you marry?

the subway station to enter the 1 train is approaching....

_______: well. not at all people see it that way. the world would be a better place if everyone did.... do you have your metro cards??

8: no. its in my bag at home....

11: no. we took the car this morning......

_______: ok. well, one of you can duck under, and the other can go through with me, deal?

8 and 11 yo together: deal.

and below the ground they disappear, only to emerge 23 minutes later, 5 miles east, into the same sunshine mentioned above.
all in a days work.

i live in nyc.
i'm surrounded by rats.
on the subway platform i see them, festering thru the trash thats in their ipods, or seeking a distractions with the books they read.
scavengers.

i'm surrounded by fake light, and striking similarities with the people, the glow is only temporary opposed to the flicker, which is more permanent.

this environment is quite stifling for an extroverted introvert, like myself. no one gets it, no one wants to, and i have yet to make any concrete connections beyond the trail i travel everyday on the street.
someone once told me about how people here throw the friends they have had for years 'under the bus'
i just felt that tire tread imprint on my memory, putting myself in my place.
a caste system.
i will never be like sarah jessica parkers shoes or the drinks she consumes.
i will never care enough to have an ipod or a sidekick.
i don't smoke newports.
i don't talk behind peoples backs, or pretend i don't know things about someone that i very well do.
these people are not my friends,this place is not my home.

i am not giving up, i am finished.

if you have been reading my blog, thats great.

from now on, i will be blogging elsewhere..... different contexts, different posts. all together, a fun time.

hit me up, and i’ll let you know where its at...

til then, i guess you can look foward to not a whole lot.

 

xoxoxo