| (no subject) |
[Aug. 4th, 2008|07:03 pm] |
Today some lady at Costco accused me of being too young to drive. Specifically, she said I took the coupon for $80 off of a set of tires as if I had a car. When I said I do have a car, she said she thought I was a little girl, 13 or 14. Jesus. I could forgive as young as 20, but 13? That's on you bitch. That is you being an idiot.
I hate almost nothing more than people talking to me as if I am a child.
I'm 25 motherfuckers.
(and angry)
Other things I hate: people who think they are smarter than they are, people who don't use their blinkers, people who don't use turning lanes properly, people who drive over-sized SUVs and trucks.
That's right, bring it on gas prices. Ram those greedy, arrogant, space hogging shits in the ass.
(elements don't count)
I have a lot of aggression.
I don't have to work tomorrow. I still haven't done the laundry that I needed to do four days ago. I had falafel for dinner. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 3rd, 2008|10:44 am] |
I think I'm only going to take three classes next semester. I'm really going to feel like a slacker, but with two jobs, and trying to enjoy my new apartment and take care of Costello, I really don't want to be miserably stressed out anymore.
I need to cancel an appointment with my doctor that is scheduled for tomorrow morning, but for some reason they have no answering machine. Just a looping message that states their office hours and what to do if it's an emergency. So I guess they can't get too mad at me when I call at 9am Monday, which is when they open, to cancel an appointment for 9:30am the same day. There have been plenty of occassions when I needed an emergency last minute appointment, so maybe someone else will be able to take mine.
I don't think there will ever be another time when I am not tired. I'm pretty sure I got nine hours of sleep last night, though I did wake up around 1:30 this morning and couldn't get back to sleep for a while. I'm going to have to get some caffeine before work today. suck. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2008|01:49 am] |
I went into my Cal 3 final with a 99 average. I'm lucky if I came out with a B, and I'm guessing it will be a C. I don't know what happened. I mean, I know I didn't do most of the homework or review the old tests. I know my brain has refused to retain any information the past few days. Maybe weeks. And I know that I always think I do poorly on tests so people don't believe me anymore. But I swear, there has only been one other time when I thought I would be lucky to make a B, and I ended up with a C in that class. Of course, she was evil, but still.
Anyway, I cried and I ate something, finally, I had a beer and I fell asleep trying to watch a movie. I feel kind of worthless and like maybe I have no right to be pursuing a math degree. And I'm wondering, how am I going to pass the actuarial exams if I can't even pass a Cal 3 final?
Maybe Dr. Cueva-Parra will feel sorry for me and give me a B. I'd take it. It's just a shitty time to completely lose my mind. I'm not even excited about the semester being over.
I think I'm going to have to give myself a break next semester. Take three classes instead of five. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 25th, 2008|12:56 pm] |
I got a new dress in the mail today. A Cool, Cool Water Dress from Anthropologie to be specific (because specifics are important). I ordered the dress when I found out that I pretty much had the tutoring job in the bag, and I figured surely I could afford a new dress every now and then. But it was back ordered for a while. Then I got the job at World Market as well. Two part-time jobs and a student loan. But I started to worry when I realized that with my hours and barely over minimum wage pay, it would take me a little over a week at one of my jobs to pay for this dress that I'm wearing. I don't think I'll be buying any more dresses for a while.
I also don't think I will have internet or cable when I move. Which will be a good thing for financial management and time management. My Anthropologie obsession will have to be restricted to catalogs, computer labs, and visiting the folks. But they have the cutest little cardigan with little fishes swimming across it...
I'm not buying any more clothes until January. Except for a pair of shoes for work. Because my feet hurt. That's five months, which is nothing really. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 24th, 2008|09:12 pm] |
I'm not going to try to be funny because I'm pretty sure that only one or two people ever get my jokes. Hello.
I had forgotten about livejournal and I was thinking that everyone has probably forgotten about livejournal, now that there are fancy things like myspace and facebook. But I have a lot on my mind. Such as, if I start studying for my multivariable calculus final tomorrow, will I remember anything on Tuesday? If I don't start tomorrow, when am I going to have time to study? I have four other finals to work on, a wedding to go to, work and work and work. and work. Is it too soon to be resentful, just two weeks in?
One day I'm going to graduate, and I'm going to make big bucks and live on $20,000 a year so that I can retire early. That's a plan.
I'm getting off of the processed sugars. That shit will fuck you up. I think that's what is fucking me up. Actually, I'm probably just tired. And pre-menstrual. And weird. But the processed sugars don't help.
I think I'll go to bed now. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 28th, 2007|02:44 pm] |
So I'm killing this journal slowly, kind of like how I'm killing everything else and everything else is killing me. It's a chore.
I guess I'll just leave some lyrics here, Ani, Aimee, Ben. I'll even throw in a little Baudelaire, apparently. Whatever. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 28th, 2007|11:28 am] |
it's rock paper scissors as to whether
i will get over you at all
it's hand against hand and both hands are mine
it's standing in a circular line
which is not to say that i'm not also happy
a happy meal with a surprise inside
surprise surprise here's another bright light in your eyes
exposing all the stuff you're not calculating enough to hide
this melancholy that i carry makes me feel so grown up
at my kitchen table doing shots of resignation
i never thought i'd see the day when i would say i give up
and break the stallions of my wildest expectations
i do not want to know you this way
surrounded by so much pain
but how am i supposed to let go of you this way
like a bird into the sky of my brain?
i think i could accept all these dark colors
as just part of some bigger color scheme
if it wasn't for that drippy string quartet of sadness
underscoring each smiling scene
desire drags me right out of myself
like a gas-soaked rope tied to a piece of coal
and i'm getting pretty good at looking at the bright side
while the flames rip along the sand and swallow me whole
but this melancholy that i carry makes me feel so grown up
at my kitchen table doing shots of resignation
i never thought i'd see the day when i would say i give up
and break the stallions of my wildest expectations
but i do not want to know you this way
surrounded by so much pain
but how am i supposed to let go of you this way
like a bird into the sky of my brain? |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 22nd, 2007|06:18 pm] |
do you ever have that dream
when you open your mouth
and you try to scream
but you can't make a sound
that's everyday starting now |
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| Anywhere out of the World, Charles Baudelaire |
[Feb. 18th, 2007|08:06 pm] |
Life is a hospital where every patient is obsessed by the desire of changing beds. One would like to suffer opposite the stove, another is sure he would get well beside the window.
It always seems to me that I should be happy anywhere but where I am, and this question of moving is one that I am eternally discussing with my soul.
"Tell me, my soul, poor chilly soul, how would you like to live in Lisbon? It must be warm there, and you would be as blissful as a lizard in the sun. It is a city by the sea; they say that it is built of marble, and that its inhabitants have such a horror of the vegetable kingdom that they tear up all the trees. You see it is a country after my own heart; a country entirely made of mineral and light, and with liquid to reflect them."
My soul does not reply.
"Since you are so fond of being motionless and watching the pageantry of movement, would you like to live in the beatific land of Holland? Perhaps you could enjoy yourself in that country which you have so long admired in paintings on museum walls. What do you say to Rotterdam, you who love forests of masts, and ships that are moored on the doorsteps of houses?"
My soul remains silent.
"Perhaps you would like Batavia better? There, moreover, we should find the wit of Europe wedded to the beauty of the tropics."
Not a word. Can my soul be dead?
"Have you sunk into so deep a stupor that you are happy only in your unhappiness? If that is the case, let us fly to countries that are the counterfeits of Death. I know just the place for us, poor soul. We will pack up our trunks for Torneo. We will go still farther, to the farthest end of the Baltic Sea; still farther from life if possible; we will settle at the Pole. There the sun only obliquely grazes the earth, and the slow alternations of daylight and night abolish variety and increase that other half of nothingness, monotony. There we can take deep baths of darkness, while sometimes for our entertainment, the Aurora Borealis will shoot up its rose-red sheafs like the reflections of the fireworks of hell!"
At last my soul explores! "Anywhere! Just so it is out of the world!" |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 10th, 2006|10:17 am] |
she was cuffed to the truth like the truth was a chair
bright interrogation light in her eyes
her conscience lit a cigarette and just stood there
waiting for her to crack
waiting for her to cry
his face scampered through her mind
like a roach across a wall
it made her heart soar
it made her skin crawl
they said, we got this confession we just need for you to sign
why don't you just cooperate and make this easier on us all
there was light and then there was darkness
but there was no line in between
and asking her heart for guidance
was like pleading with a machine
cuz joy, it has its own justice
my dreams are languid and lawless
and everything bows to beauty
when it is fierce
and when it is flawless
on the table were two ziploc baggies
containing her eyes and her smile
they said, we're keeping these as evidence
'til this thing goes to trial
meanwhile anguish was fingering solace
in another room down the hall
both were love's accomplices
but solace took the fall
now look at her book of days
it's the same on every page
and she's got a little tin cup with her heart in it
to bang along the bars of her rib cage
bang along the bars of her rib cage |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 24th, 2005|08:29 pm] |
you don't know, so don't say you do --
you don't.
you might think that things will change,
but take my word --
they won't
you paint a lovely picture,
but reality intrudes
with a message for you
and it's real bad news
i was undecided like you
at first
but i could not stem the tide of overwhelm
and thirst
you try to keep it going, but a lot of avenues
just aren't open to you
when you're real bad news
i've got love and anger
they come as a pair
you can take your chances
but buyer beware
and i won't
make you feel bad
when i show you
this big ball of sad isn't
worth even filling with air
and baby, let me tell you
you can get some things confused
like whose secrets are whose
and that's real bad news |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 7th, 2005|09:03 pm] |
you can doubt anything
if you think about it long enough
cuz what happened always adjusts to fit
what happened after that
and it's hard to feel like you are free
when all you seem to do is referee
remember when it was just you and me
steppin' up to bat?
and win or lose
just that you choose this little war
is what kills you
and either/or it's that this war
is maybe also what thrills you
we thought we left possession behind
but truth is i was yours and you were mine
and now i've replayed a thousand times
exactly what was said
cuz nothing is as it appears
in the funhouse mirrors of your fears
on the roller coaster of all these years
with your hands above your head
and win or lose
just that you choose this little war
is what kills you
and either/or it's that this war
is maybe also what thrills you
i don't care how fast you run
just tell me, baby, that when you're done
with your little marathon
you still got cab fare home
cuz the finish line is a shifty thing
and what is life but reckoning
and, you know
you are still the song i sing
to myself
when i'm alone
and win or lose just that we choose
this little war is what kills us
and either/or it's that this war
is maybe also what thrills us |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 18th, 2005|09:39 pm] |
buildings and bridges
are made to bend in the wind
to withstand the world,
that's what it takes
all that steel and stone
is no match for the air, my friend
what doesn't bend breaks
what doesn't bend breaks
we are made to bleed
and scab and heal and bleed again
and turn every scar into a joke
we are made to fight
and fuck and talk and fight again
and sit around and laugh until we choke
sit around and laugh until we choke
i don't know who you were expecting
probably some bitch who does not budge
with eyes the size of snow
i may get pissed off sometimes
but you seem like the type to hold a grudge
and in the end, i just let go...
buildings and bridges
are made to bend in the wind
to withstand the world,
that's what it takes
all that steel and stone
is no match for the air, my friend
what doesn't bend breaks
what doesn't bend breaks |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 8th, 2005|11:03 am] |
what I've kept with me
and what I've thrown away
and where the hell I've ended up
on this glary, random day
were the things I really cared about
just left along the way
for being too pent up and proud?
woke up way too late
feeling hungover and old
and the sun was shining bright
and I walked barefoot down the road
started thinking about my old man
it seems that all men
want to get into a car and go
anywhere
here I stand:
sad and free
I can't cry
I can't see
what I've done
no, God,
what have I done?
don't you know I'm numb, man, no,
I can't feel a thing at all, 'cause it's
all smiles and business these days
and I'm indifferent to the loss
and I've faith that there's a soul somewhere
that's leading me around
I wonder if she knows which way is down
here I stand:
sad and free
I can't cry
and I can't see
what I've done
no, God,
what have I done?
and I poured my heart out
and I poured my heart out
it evaporated...
see?
blind man on a canyon's edge
of a panoramic scene
maybe I'm a kite that's flying high
and random, dangling a string
or slumped over in a vacant room
head on a stranger's knee
I'm sure back home
they think I've lost my mind
here I stand:
sad and free
I can't cry
and I can't see
what I've done
no, God,
what have I done? |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 29th, 2004|11:36 pm] |
Leaf by Leaf and page by page
Throw this book away
All the sadness all the rage
Throw this book away
Rip out the binding and tear the glue
All of the grief we never even knew
We had it all along
Now it's smoke
The things we've written in it
Never really happened
All of the people come and gone
Never really lived
All of the people have come have gone
No one to forgive smoke
We will not write a new one
There will not be a new one
Another one, another one
Here's an evening dark with shame
Throw it on the fire
here's the time I took the blame
Throw it on the fire
Here's the time we didn't speak
it seemed for years and years
Here's a secret
No one will ever know the
reasons for the tears
They are smoke
We will never write a new one
There will not be a new one
Another one, another one
Where do all the secrets live
They travel in the air
You can smell them when they burn
They travel
Those who say the past is not dead
Can stop and smell the smoke
You keep saying the past is not dead
Stop and smell the smoke
You keep on saying the past is not even past
And you keep saying
We are, smoke
Smoke, smoke |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 6th, 2004|08:19 am] |
sitting in my glass house
while your ghost is sleeping down the hall
watching little birds fly
kamikaze missions into the walls
think i'm gonna stay in today
sit on the couch and watch them fall
life just keeps getting harder
and it just keeps getting harder to hide
the darker it is around me
the easier it is to see inside
outside the glass
the whole world is magnified
and it's half an inch
from here to the other side
yeah i guess that push has come to this
so i guess this must be shove
but before you throw those stones at me
tell me, what is your house made of?
and if you think you know what i'm doing wrong
you're gonna have to get in line
but for the purposes of this song
let's just say i'm doing fine
i guess i'm doing fine
trapped in my glass house
the crowd has been gathering outside since dawn
i make a pot of coffee
while catastrophe awaits me out on the lawn
i think i'm gonna stay in today
pretend like i don't know what's going on
yeah i guess that push has come to this
so i guess this must be shove
but before you throw those stones at me
tell me, what is your house made of?
and if you think you know what i'm doing wrong
you're gonna have to get in line
yeah but for the purpose of this song
let's just say i'm doing fine
i think i'm doing fine |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 3rd, 2004|10:47 pm] |
Barren stares as they light up the screen
bearing teardrops that shatter
in slow motion
novocaine our brains
and we're out like lights
And as I'm growing older I'm bored
I remember when misery thrilled me much more
when I can't relax
and I'd like to go back
but that's gone
(we don't think that way no more)
yeah that's gone
turn around
turn the volume down
we're counting the days down
to the day when we'll live
in a video
I'll be stonefaced and pale
you'll pout in stereo
twenty four hours every day of the year
oh, what fun,
I can't wait 'til the future gets here
Closing in on the pain and the torture
he's slamming the door
like it's something to strive for
the girl tearing curtains down
looks funny as hell
and of sense of humor
can there be any doubt
yeah, that natural selection
has weeded it out?
just to keep me from laughing out loud
Well, I've seen some old friends
sort of die
or just turn into whatever
must have been inside them
whatever all of us had then in common
grew up
and left home
we don't think that way no more
turn around
turn the volume down
we're counting the days down |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 21st, 2004|11:04 pm] |
the wind is ruthless
the trees shake angry fingers at the sky
the people hunch their shoulders
hold their collars over their ears and run by
it's a cold rain
it's a hard rain
like the kind you find in songs
i guess that makes me the jerk with the heartache
here to sing to you about how i been done wrong
i am sitting, watching
out the window of the coffee shop
and i'm waiting, waiting
waiting for it to let up
i am rocking like a cradle
warming my hands with the cup in between
i am leaning over the table
holding my face over the steam
and before it gets so cold
that the rain turns to snow
there's just a couple things
i'd like to know
like how could you do nothing
and say, i'm doing my best
how could you take almost everything
and then come back for the rest
how could you beg me to stay
reach out your hands and plead
and then pack up your eyes and run away
as soon as i agreed
it just all slips
away so slowly
you don't even notice till you've lost a lot
i've been like one of those zombies
in vegas
pouring quarters into a slot
and now i'm tired
and i am broke
and i feel stupid and i feel used
and i'm at the end of my little rope
and i am swinging back and forth
about you
and before it gets so cold
that the rain turns to snow
there's just a couple things
i'd like to know
like how could you do nothing
and say, i'm doing my best
how could you take almost everything
and then come back for the rest
how could you beg me to stay
reach out your hands and plead
and then pack up your eyes and run away
as soon as i agreed |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 12th, 2004|12:25 pm] |
shaking like a dog shittin' razor blades
waking up next to nothing
after dreaming of you and me
i'm waking up all alone
waking up so relieved
while you're taking your time with apologies
i'm making my plans for revenge
red eyes on orange horizons
if columbus was wrong i'd drive straight off the edge
i'd drive straight of the edge
taking your own life with boredom
i'm taking my own life with wine
it helps you to rule out the sorrow
it helps me to empty my mind
making the most of a bad time
i'm smoking the brains from my head
leaving the coal calling the kettle black and orange and red
this kettle is seeing red
i've got a big fat fucking bone to pick
with you my darling
in case you haven't heard i'm sick and tired of trying
i wish you would take my radio to bathe with you
plugged in and ready to fall |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 12th, 2004|12:15 pm] |
tuck me into where it's freezing
tuck me into bed with snakes
tuck me in with the tarantulas
i wanna let 'em in my mouth
and down my throat to lay their eggs
tuck me into were there's bleeding
where it spills out of the walls onto the floor
tuck me into where your best friend's apologies
amount to shit, they always did, forever more
i pour out onto the floor
like liquid white from fallen glass
nothing to cry over
my skin went sour long ago
it knew it had no place left to go
tuck me into where i'm falling
where i can feel the heat rise underneath my wings
and all the fallen angels in hell
will tuck me away from you
take me away from everything
tuck me into where there's dying
tuck me in with flames and tuck me in with flies
maybe then you will appreciate your only friend
with maggots in her eyes or as ashes in the sky
i pour out onto the floor
like liquid white from fallen glass
nothing to cry over
my skin went sour long ago
it knew it had no place left to go |
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onthewaydown's journal