Tu Mi Piaci

Guess what I did yesterday?
I went to see the paternal side of my family. I hadn't seen them all together in one place in a long, long time.
And you know?
It was ridiculously nice. I really, really missed my baby brothers. I mean, a lot. So much that it kind of hurt. They are growing up beautifully and they both have something special, really special, about them.
And this is going to sound completely contradictory to everything I've ever said about my dad and my stepmom (honestly, blogs written about them are mostly written out of frustration and/or anger, so it sometimes comes off a bit meaner than I expected), but it was really nice to see them, too.
I want things to get better more than anything. And I know they will, I really do. I guess things just happen that you can't control sometimes and you have no idea how it'll turn out.

After I saw my family, I saw Yes Man, which is surprisingly good. And I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but Zack and Miri Make a Porno is RIDICULOUSLY wonderful.
I saw both aforementioned movies with the same person (which is why I thought of it) so I guess he and I just have really good taste.

Zeke and I got in a ridiculous fight over something really stupid (and, unfortunately, I take the blame for instigating it. *sigh* Women.) I had been in a stand-off for a week straight with my friend Jesse (who is arguably my "emotionally attached friend with benefits"). But because everything is so silly all of the time, both conflicts were resolved the same night and I couldn't help but smile and giggle like a horny schoolgirl because everything was not only back to normal, but three times as wonderful.

I like people. And Christmas. Especially Christmas.

DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THESE WONDERFUL THINGS?!

MOD PODGE IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING
I bought it because it was on sale and it was the recommended non water-soluble glue for DIY screen printing and then I found out IT MAKES THINGS REALLY SHINY AND SMOOTH AND MAKES ME WANT TO PET THE STUFF I PUT IT ON.
It makes things much more legit-looking than loose ends from shitty glue sticks and bits of lint stuck to things. Obser-uv:
I made this tonight because I couldn't sleep due to our neighbors being complete assholes and not turning down their shitty reggaeton music at 2:30 in the morning.

And inside....
My ever-impressive condom collection!
(P.S. Use One condoms. They have cute pictures on them and the studded ones feel amazing. Better than your average Durex.)


Mod Podge, I love you, I don't know how I ever lived without you. Please marry me?

ALSO, DID YOU KNOW ABOUT PORN RANGERS?!

The Porn Rangers are these two guys, both ordained ministers, who drive around in a van trying to teach kids how porn/masturbation is wrong. They do this by taking kids of all ages in to their van, making them watch porn, and videotaping them jacking off and then showing it to them.
They think this will make kids not want to watch porn anymore.

They also sell the tapes of kids jacking off to other people, for "educational purposes", thinking that no one wants to watch kids jack off and that will, henceforth, cure them of their "addiction".
They don't believe that there are, indeed, people out there who DO want to watch that.

The thing about the porn rangers is that they're not pedophiles, they're just oblivious idiots.
Seriously, go read the interview in Vice with them. It's piss funny and kind of painful to read at some points because these guys are so clueless.

Porn Rangers, I salute you for being such fucking fucking fucking idiots.

Snarf snarf.

Over the past few months, I've become incredibly close to a boy I've known since pre-school named Zeke Moorhead. We didn't know we knew each other until July, when he added me on facebook (har har) and we started talking. A few weeks later, he was my best friend.
I don't like getting emotional. I feel like it pushes people away and I like having internal feelings about people that I keep to myself that I can savor alone. But even though I joke around all the time about it, I don't think he realizes how much I appreciate him. I really do owe a lot to him. We've had some insanely fun times together.

Last night, we had a huge party with about 30 of our friends who I'm absolutely crazy about. There were a few instances where I couldn't help but think about the first few days we hung out. We went in a big circle from south street to lombard street and back again. We would get Wawa milkshakes and talk about how bored we were.
When it was warmer, we'd sit at the fountain on 2nd and south and I would draw stickers and he would do things like eat poundcake with no teeth or just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and drool. We started going to the park more when it got colder. There was a night when I decided it would be a good idea to go out and get hot chocolate. We met at wawa and did not get hot chocolate. We did, however, get white rice at the chinese takeout place we can't show our faces in anymore. We went to the park and he drew silly things all over my arms and legs and shoes. That remains one of the best nights I've ever had.

When we first started hanging out, we frequently ran in to my friends, who subsequently thought we were dating. Which is funny, as we openly refer to each other as brother and sister.
There were two extremely brief occurrences where I was attracted to him, but really, we're better together as brother and sister.

The first "party" we ever had was a cereal picnic in Rittenhouse Square. It was extremely fun and I think it made us a lot closer with the people that I was already friends with. I really owe so much to him. When he first met me was at the peak of my bulimia, and, really, I've put him through some obnoxious drama. But he has never once let me down. It's so nice to have someone to listen to Joy Division and Gang Of Four with who also steals light bulbs from churches and giant christmas trees. Sometimes I just want to give him the biggest hug in the world.

Apologies for the sentimentalisms, but it seemed quite appropriate.
I hope he doesn't read this.

LOLOLOL DISREGARD THAT I SUCK COCKS

Disappearing Acts

I don't have a father.

I never have. I don't know him.

I know who he is, I can pick him out of a crowd. He's that non-descript looking fellow with glasses and a maroon bike with a banana seat who works at the Philadelphia Record Exchange on saturdays and sundays. But if I could just make him and his wife disappear, then I would in a heartbeat. They don't want me around, so why should I give them that courtesy?

Daddy died minutes after my parents divorced and became Bob, and sometimes Robert Jr.

I sometimes wonder if he's ever thought of me and how I was doing and how old I am (because I don't think he knows). I wonder if he knows what color my eyes are or how tall (short, rather) i am or what music i like (because we like exactly the same music) or that i'm actually dying slowly because as I'm writing this I haven't eaten in three days.

After Bob got remarried to Anne, joint custody over my little brother and I was agreed upon. Privately, they agreed on Thursdays and Saturdays every week, when we would spend the night there. Until our two half brothers were born, those nights consisted of T.V. dinners, late nights of television, and the internet.

Last summer, Anne banned me from their house for about 2 months for a youthful kleptomaniac mistake that I righted and apologized extensively for.

About 5 months ago, I was kicked out for good. They took my brother in to live with them, henceforth leaving me as the only sibling that wasn't allowed to see the paternal side of my family.

It was a good three months before I made any contact with any of them. I stopped in to see Bob at work one day with my boyfriend at the time. He honestly looked as if he was about to cry.

Bob had never hugged me before that day. I was scared. He asked me if I was ever going to stay over the house again.

"I might stop by for Christmas"

"I HAVE TO WAIT THAT LONG?!"

I was so tempted to say that if I could, in good consciousness, make him wait until he was on his deathbed, then I would. I told him that I would come over sooner if Anne wanted me there, but I don't like going places that I'm not wanted. Seconds later, I left.

He doesn't want me. Neither of them want me. Bob is utterly incapable of taking care of himself, let alone 4 kids. Anne is giving him security as long as she gets what she wants. In a word, he's whipped.

I've been stopping by and saying hi almost every weekend. I feel like I'm spoiling him.

peace on earth and goodwill towards men

48 days until christmas.
there is nothing in this world that makes me happier than christmas.
i am putting aside the hatred i have towards the paternal side of my family for the sake of the overall love and compassion i have towards every living being.
I have always always always loved christmas.
listening to elvis while making sugar cookies with my brother and decorating the tree with the ornaments my mom bought years and years ago during her and her friend's "christmas hags" phase. we've had the same ornaments my whole life, save for a select few that didn't make it or that have been added over the years.
the same little elves that cling to piney tree branches, the same blonde angel that sits atop the tree, the little red wooden cardinals, Ren and Stimpy hanging out of stockings on a mantel (that's the heaviest ornament, aside from Pikachu in a santa hat. my daddy has silly taste in things.)
watching "grandma got run over by a reindeer", "pacman's christmas", "jetsons christmas", "flintstones christmas", "olive the other reindeer" christmas specials of everything with elvis presley humming "santa bring my baby back to me" and "i'll be home for christmas"
god i'm hearing it now in my head and i'm so happy i want to cry.

waking up and going downstairs to see all of that stuff under the tree. regardless of whether or not i'll like it, there it is, waiting to surprise me.
i've always loved christmas.
i have such a profound love for holidays in general.
but christmas is the best of them all.

i know this is so so so early.

the morning after Obama was elected, i walked down to Rite Aid. I already had a renewed sense of optimism due to this country (our country, my country. finally, i am proud to call you my country) proving it's ability to do something right. the second i saw the seasonal aisle was devoid of all halloween items and was now filled to the brim with Christmas paraphernalia, I was ecstatic.

I start my new job tomorrow.
I love you all so much.

christmas '07

My body is not property of the government

I have never had an abortion.
I hope I can go through life with having as little abortions as possible.
And I take steps to make sure I don't need one
BUT
If I do need one, then goddammit, I'm getting one.
I am NOT going to have a child if it means forsaking my dreams at an early age.


"Well what about putting it up for adoption?"

NO. That means there is still a child somewhere in the world that I gave birth to that will most likely hate me without ever having met me. Regardless of whether I have ever met the baby, I am still a parent.

"You made your own bed, so now you lie in it"

NO. That may be your standards and practices, but not mine.

"Abortion is murder!"

So is eating meat, supporting the war, and doing anything to rub off skin cells, as every cell in your body is a potential child.


If you need any reason, any ONE REASON to NOT vote for the McCain/Palin ticket (avid anti-abortion supporters), it is this:

IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOU MOST LIKELY CARE ENOUGH ABOUT ME TO NOT WANT TO SEE ME UNHAPPY.
IF I HAD A CHILD, I CAN GUARANTEE YOU I WOULD COMMIT SUICIDE WITHIN THE FIRST 2 MONTHS.



ABORTION IS ONE'S RIGHT
I AM PRO-CHOICE

Gayle Lynn

"Solitude and death for you, Gayle Lynn. 1948, unloved infant girl. The loneliest of graves for you, Gayle Lynn" - Xiu Xiu, "Gayle Lynn"



I'm ill. I think all of you who didn't know that should know it now.

I've had eating disorders for most of my life.
I became a severe overeater when I was about 8 as a coping mechanism for my severe depression, due to how absolutely wrong everything was. My parents, at this point, were divorced yet still having problems with one another, and it was at this time that I first started to realize how much my father didn't like me. My mom's heroin addict boyfriend was living with us. He stole tons of money from us and eventually molested me.
I was completely alone, the "weird fat girl" in school, and so I compulsively overate.

When I was 11, I began to cut my wrists superficially and feel guilty for eating anything, even a cookie or apple or something. The first time I threw up after eating was in school, after lunch, on Halloween. I got in trouble for being tardy to class and got a demerit.
I continued to cut myself and purge what I ate until the beginning of 7th grade.

I started throwing up again in February of 2008. It gradually worked up from being a borderline disorder to a condition that I need to attend intensive care for.*
(*I will be attending the Partial Hospitalization/Day Treatment program at the Renfrew Center in Radnor, PA as of 10/21/08)

Currently, I have been dropping at least 5 pounds each week, I consume 500 calories a day, all of which I purge, and punish myself for eating and not purging.
I have also taken to drinking distilled vinegar to diminish my hunger. I carry it around in my bag in a little brown glass bottle.

I have a loose tooth, I have previously lost half of a molar, I am always cold, I have broken blood vessels in my eye and face from straining to purge food (If you personally know me and saw me that week when my face was covered in pale purple freckle-like things, that's what that was.)
My hair doesn't feel human anymore and it falls out when i brush it, which is why I cut most of it off. I'm not a very pretty sight anymore.
And I'm still too fucking fat.
The other day, I saw ribs under my skin and was pretty much ecstatic.
The next day, my mom and I headed off to Boston to the Natural Products Expo East, which I basically pigged out and only purged maybe 6 times in the three days we were there.
Currently a waist size 7. My goal is a size 3.

The thing that hurts the most is living with someone I know better than anyone (that would be me) hating me more than anything on this planet. I hope no one ever hates themselves as much as I hate me. It is painful and horrible and annoying.

Perhaps even more painful than that is the fact that I know absolutely no one else with an eating disorder. If you have ever read the Maus books by Art Spiegelman, it is not unlike the part where Vladek meets the frog in the concentration camp who can only speak French and English and can not find anyone who speaks French. The poor frog can't speak to anyone and is going mad with grief and loneliness until he meets Vladek, who can speak English, and is henceforth saved because he now has a friend, someone to talk to.
I am so alone, I can not speak the english of anyone else. So please, please, if you have ever dealt with this or anything similar, please please send me your contact information. Email address, myspace, facebook, AIM, MSN, anything.
I can be reached at sushisehnsucht@hotmail.com

Today I went with my mom to my orientation for treatment. In the waiting room, there was a woman, probably in her early 40's, with her husband, filling out consent and treatment forms.
When she stood up to hand in her forms, she could barely walk. She was so thin I was worried she was going to break.
When she had left, my mom looked at me and said "That was utterly disturbing". I replied, "You know what's even more disturbing? There are days when I wish I looked just like that"


<3

Everything works in circles

Every last one of you should go see What We Do Is Secret.
I don't care how far away the only theater it's playing is, I don't care how expensive it is, I don't even care if you don't like The Germs.
It is too good of a movie to not see. I actually described it is the Boogie Nights of punk biopics. Because it's like super-duper cute and funny and sad, and everyone is so god damn lovable.

And here's what makes me even happier:
Shane West, the actor who plays Darby Crash in aforementioned film, has actually become the new lead singer for the real-life Germs who have recently reunited. Which makes me so fucking happy, because he did SUCH a good job and sounds just like Darby. And dear lord, he is so fucking beautiful. God damn.


And now, for the best thing to happen to South Street since Zipperhead:

MOTHERFUCKING PHILEO YOGURT
The inside of this place is so fucking amazing. It's the cutest, most futuristic looking place I've ever been in. Very Pure Trance-esque (if you have never read Pure Trance, or do not even know who Junko Mizuno is, then fie on you. Google that shit) except, ya know, real. It's kind of like Pinkberry, except better.
And it's fucking DELICIOUS. You get a cup and you go to the Froyo machines that have like every single flavor you can imagine (I like the cheesecake, green tea, and georgia peach all combined), and then you put all of these toppings on it (they have fucking EVERYTHING. Every single kind of fruit, tons of cereal like Fruity Pebbles, Cap'n Crunch, etc., cookies, gummy bears, sprinkles, marshmallows, and like a million billion other things) and then you weigh it. You pay 49 cents per ounce, so it can add up kind of quick, but honestly it's kind of worth it, because just being in that place makes you so super happy and the food is DELICIOUS. They even have non-dairy options, too, so you can bring your favorite vegan and not feel bad!
This is the only picture I found on Google, but you seriously need to go see it for yourself:

Yeah, this was a good weekend.

Etc., etc.

I've started writing in a diary again, so I probably won't be talking about the events of my day (unless they're super important) or my "feelings" very much on here.
Yes, an actual physical diary. That I use my hands and a pen to fill page after page with my tiny handwriting about what I did today (because I will forget tomorrow) and how I felt about what I did and to make tons of little mistakes that I can't fix for good.
It looks like this: (by the way, I'm a big fan of Tokidoki, hence the thumbs-up. Duh.)

I stole this from Dave Gunn's LJ. I hope he doesn't mind.
Will you answer every question honestly? I have no reason to otherwise.

Have you ever stayed up all night while drunk or high? I've stayed up high on life. Does that count? Y/N

Do you miss anything or anyone? The person I will always miss most should be arriving at my house in about 15 minutes.
The person who I miss currently is entirely too far away and won't be home for a while. When he comes back, I'm smothering him in hugs and kisses.

What makes you laugh no matter what? Mary. Really really. Even when we are fighting. When she's not here, I love every single person who has ever been in Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Who was the last person you talked to? Either Mary or David F., via text. Chris Cope on the phone, Mommy in real life, and Zeke on AIM.

What do you dislike at the moment? I am known for only honestly, deeply and personally hating three people in this world (Victoria Baccini, Queenie, and that kid Chris from Michigan.)
As for disliking, I dislike everyone I went to camp with.

Do you think it is bad to have sex at your age? I am of the stoic opinion that there is no "right age" for sex to be acceptable. So, no. I think sex is wonderful<333>Will you get married? If I can find a man or woman who is totally okay with me being a porn star, doing the dishes topless, throwing up after I eat, and dying when I'm 30, then please point me in their direction.

Will you be doing drugs in the near future? Of course, I'm going to be doing several lines of cocaine at about 3:00. Care to join me?
(jay kay.)

Do you lie about your age? Only to get in to shows at Johnny Brenda's.

Are you happy with yourself? Absolutely not, to the point where it is comical.

Would you change anything in your past? Yeah. I would have never suggested to Maura that we go and steal food at Whole Foods that day.

When did you last cry? Today. I hadn't mixed the wasabi in with the soy sauce well enough and I downed a big glob of straight wasabi. It was refreshing, but it made me teary.

Do you believe in religion? It exists, but I have no faith in it.

Has a guy ever seriously punched you more than once? Punched me? No. Beat me? Yes.

Have you done bad things with your parents near by? Define "bad".

Have you started a horrible rumor about somebody? I tried, but I'm a horrible liar.

Have you ever been too drunk to remember a certain night? No, but I've been so tired to the point where I felt inebriated and I couldn't distinguish whether certain points were real or dreams.

Do you think your future will be a good one? I have dreams...

Do you think you were raised well? I was raised collectively by myself and the people I liked enough to hold on to. So, yeah. I guess.

Do you have a secret that you've never told ANYONE? I have insane fantasies about sleeping with Chris, the guy who rents the apartment in the building my grandparents own.

How would you spend your last day alive? I would pull a Thelma And Louise and shoot cops while driving off of a cliff with my better half.

Do you hide things well or do you have a guilty conscience? It depends on the circumstance. For the most part, I feel guilty about everything I do. Even existing.

If your parents got divorced and you had to pick mom or dad to live with? My parents DID get divorced when I was about 4 and they have had joint custody over my (full blood) brother and I ever since.

Think you could ever forgive someone who murdered your family member? No, unless it was Aunt Linda. Seriously. If you knew her, you'd understand.

Do you think you know the meaning of love? Love is the name of my severed hand that I keep in a jar of formaldehyde next to my bed. I don't know what it means.

What’s the most important thing in a relationship in your opinion? If I relationships were my thing, I'd really like honesty. That'd be pretty cool.

If your parents didn't like the person you were dating, would you lose them? That's an asshole move.

Do you spend time with the same people always? I have a large network of friends, a lot of whom don't even know each other. So, it kinda varies.

Do you think best friends can be replaced? Not my best friend. No one ever comes close.

When is the last time you were truly happy with your life? Who knows?

Where was your default myspace picture taken? In my room, right before the Xiu Xiu gig <3333>Do you think long distance relationships are ever really worth it? No.

What is your favorite color? Off-lime green. Black. Pink. Aqua.
What do you do when you have a bad day? I listen to "With A Hip" by Echo and The Bunnymen repeatedly, masturbate, then fall asleep.

Do you really think exes can be friends? It's happened a lot with me, yeah.

Who messaged you last? Lievvvv!!! My little buddy who used to ride the back of the bus with me. Because that's where the cool kids sat.

When was the last time you told someone you loved them? I told David F. I loved him for being my wake-up call every morning. And I mean it, as a friend.

If you could pack up and leave your life now to move away, would you? Without a doubt.

Do you fall for people easily? Sometimes. I get friend-crushes on people a lot.

Are you quick to start a fight? No, but I probably do it more than I think.

Do your parents really know YOU? My dad forgets how old I am from time to time, and my mom knows so little about me sometimes I need to quiz her regularly to keep her in check.

Lyrics stuck in your head? "And I'm the one that sat at your capture, let the snow fall on this whispering rapture, and you're the one who's kissing your captor's hand" - from Upon Your Leopard, Upon The End Of Your Feral Days by Sunset Rubdown

Are you tired? Surprisingly no

What curse word do you use the most? Fuck.

Do you ever take medication to help you fall asleep? I like vanilla flavored Tylenol PM

When was the last time you had Starbucks? Jinx and I sat in one for an extended period of time waiting for Maggiewren a few days ago, yet we didn't patronize them. Does that count?

Do you think people talk behind your back? More than likely.

Is anyone in love with you? How would I know?

Ever cry in public? Yeah. It was pretty lame.

Do you use sarcasm? Of course not, obviously.

Do you get along better with the same sex or opposite? Opposite, because you can have sex with them and make them like you immediately.

Do you watch the news? Sometimes it comes on at the gym.

Who was the last person to make you mad? Probably my mom, for no reason.

Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to? Which one?

Have you ever been given roses? Yeah. From some random girl when I was waiting for the R6 and had just missed the train and had to wait an hour. It made me smile inside.

Had a long distance relationship? Several, unfortunately. I was young and stupid.

Do you believe in this saying: "What goes around comes around"? Life is too unfair to work that way.
Do you want to get married? Not particularly.

How many kids do you want to have? Probably none, but I would like a job naming children, because there needs to be a child named Jello Biafra and there needs to be one now.


Mary's on her way, so i'm gonna go psyche myself up for that.
Love <3

I'm sure this is riddled with typos and grammatical errors.

Hi! Back to regularly scheduled blogging.

I think this is a first because I don't actually have anything to complain about. (Shortly after I typed that, actually, I saw some bitch on MySpace begging people to "whore" her, proving to the general public once again that there is always, always, ALWAYS something to complain about)

Contrary to popular belief, there are quite a few people that I like. And I think when I meet a new person it is more likely that I'll like them than dislike them. In accordance with the previous statement, I have also been pleasantly surprised numerous times with people who initially got on my last nerves (however, the reverse is also true, which is to be expected).
But, in general, I know some lovely people. My best friend is a beautiful person inside and out, my cousin is a completely hilarious gem of a person, my close friends are so much fun to be around, and there are quite a few people who I just met (or started talking to a lot more than I used to) who I think are awesome. I like hanging out with Zeke a lot, he's hilarious and adorable, and I can't wait until September when I get to be homeless/have one big consecutive sleepover party with Dave Gunn <3.
I also had a really nice conversation via AIM with Roper last night (I hope he doesn't read this and think I'm weird for talking about him in my blog) about how awkward the human race is. It was cool talking to him outside of a party where we're making fun of whatever movie we're watching; he's really insightful and cool.

I had a bizarre anxiety dream last night about Whole Foods.
Mary and I were in the restaurant for some reason. I think I remember her forcing me to go there in an earlier part of the dream. I had my hood pulled over my head to obscure my face and was trying to hide myself with my hands. We weren't even eating, we were just sitting there. I really felt close to crying because I was so scared of someone seeing me. So, then, finally Mary says it's okay to leave (I still don't know the point of sitting in there) so we dash out so the manager doesn't see me, and South Street is completely dead. So we start walking down 10th street and we run in to some people. I turn around and everyone's gone except for one girl I remember meeting once. She started yelling at me and calling me a cunt for not going to her father's funeral. I tried apologizing, saying that I didn't know anything about it and, had she told me, I would have gone (like I said, I met her once in real life and don't even have her number) just to comfort her. But then she keeps raging at me and trying to hit me, yelling at me for not going to this funeral. I remember thinking that I should feel scared, but all I kept thinking about was how guilty I felt for not going to that funeral.
Feel free to analyze that how you may.

Also, I started working as a teacher at Moonstone preschool last week. I think I have found my niche.
I also started an apprenticeship with my friend Amber who runs PheaJean, which is this adorable line of accessories she makes. She taught me how to use a sewing machine. Not just how to use it, but how to use it WELL. I made an adorable headband that has a big orange flower with a big blue button in the middle. It makes me smile when I look at it.

Please ignore how tired I look. I hadn't slept in about 35 hours at the point that this had been taken.

And on that note, I am going to nap and do battle with the demons known as the Common Cold.

I love you. <3


P.S. If there is any one thing I suggest blowing all of your money on, it is a hammock. We recently got one in our front room by the windows. It is huge and comfy and bright orange and amazing for taking naps in.

LOOK AT THIS.

So, this won't be a normal blog, but I wanted to show you all something.
Some of you know that I do sticker art. And if you didn't, well, now you know.
BUT
Today was my first time working with stencils ever. I watched a tutorial on it and kind of filled in the blanks because it wasn't that good. And it took a while because I only had a cheap knock-off of photoshop that didn't have the cutout filter, so I had to download Photoshop which took about three hours to find a torrent that wasn't virus or trojan infested and it took even longer for me to get it working right because the keygen was pretty slow.
BUT I think all of the waiting was worth it.
And here she is, my little bunny

I'm going to practice with stencils a little more at home before I start doing them on the street, just so I don't fuck up pretty bad.
Feedback is appreciated.
<3

May I present to you, the loves of my life:

Love #1

This is the work of Ed Loredo. She draws a lot of really, utterly super-amazing things like that. Ed is an awkward gift-receiver who enjoys anime, manga, gay love stories, and making things much more difficult than need be. She has dreams of sitting in her room and playing ukulele to Beirut songs, but the only ukulele she has is a fake green one that her parents got for her quinceañera.
Despite the above statements, however, Ed is actually a pretty cool person. She takes really fantastic Polaroids that have a really awesome, old-timey grainy quality to them that I love. And when we watched The Blair Witch Project together in 7th grade, she wasn't scared at all. And I thought that was pretty cool. She is also completely adorable and has really good taste in a lot of things, including lots of super-obscure things you have probably never heard of.

This is her blog. Please go read it. And if you have a LiveJournal as well, be best friends with her. She also recently featured a scan of the letter I wrote to her while I was working at Camp Laughing Waters. Go read it and love my handwriting.



Love #2
Luke Arthur Newbury is the cutest person in the world. And that's a fact. He is my best friend who lives entirely too far away (Australia) and he is absolutely perfect. Don't laugh, we met on MySpace which yes, I know, is stupid and lame. But it's really okay. He somehow found me and there was a brief exchange of comments consisting of "I like you because you like Daniel Johnston, Joy Division and Dinosaur Jr. too!" "Oh, hey, wow, you like Descendents and Jawbreaker, too?! You're so cool!" "I like you! Let's be friends!" and then we started talking on MSN.
And I think it's around that time I got a crush on him, but because he's so damn far there's nothing I can do about it (for now, at least). He also plays bass in this really cool punk/oi band called Black Lung which are really good. This is their MySpace. Obviously, I'm not going to give you his MySpace because I don't want people lurking him, but I just thought you all should know that there are still people in this world who don't totally suck. He's proof. <3

(Despite that last paragraph, I still hold true to not liking relationships. Don't worry.)

<3

The sex blog.

Perhaps one of my biggest vices is that I consider Jamie Stewart somewhat of a role model. Maybe "role model" isn't the best term, but I, in all honesty, can not think of anything better to call him.
I read the Xiu Xiu blog pretty frequently. Not because I'm an obsessed "OMFG xIu XiU!!1! jAmIe StEwArT hAvE mY bAbIeS!!1!" fangirl-type, but because I find his blogs some of the most honest things I've ever seen anyone write on the internet. His haikus are really fantastic, and when he writes, I read the whole thing (and there are very few people who write blogs that interest me enough to read all the way through).
Anyway, I'm gushing.
The point is, Jamie Stewart wrote a blog last month about his sex life. The opening statement is as follows:

I can only orgasm when I have a black eye. It makes me feel human.

Sex is such a strange thing to me. I'm not going to divulge anything about my sex life, as none of you need to know that and I sort of feel like I'm violating the privacy of the myriad people I've slept with or sucked off or things of that nature.
In my opinion, that is the pinnacle of human contact. A person is actually inside of another person. It is harder to get closer than that. Yet, despite the level of physical contact, the feeling of utter loneliness and detachment from the whole world, let alone the person you're fucking, is incomparable. Sex makes me feel inhuman. And that is alright with me.
Because it's the one thing I'm good at. I can't write very well (For a time, I was honestly scared I had something wrong with me as my thoughts were so profound, yet I found it hard to articulate exactly how I felt about certain things or what I was thinking about. I've since learned to cope with this by passing it off as being awkward, bumbling and charming.), I can't knit very well (although I try), and I am certainly not the sort of person who can draw or paint at all. I can't turn a pile of scrap fabric in to a handbag. Nothing I ever do will ever win any prizes or be featured in any magazine with a headline that reads "LOOK AT WHAT THIS GIRL CAN DO! LOOK AT WHAT YOU CAN'T DO!" followed by an awkward picture of me and my work of "art" and a brief bio of how I love soccer, puppies, church, vacation bible school, lacrosse, my parents, and every aspect of being the cliched cookie-cutter teen (the likes of which you can find hundreds of on MySpace.)
I don't have any talents. Aren't you jealous?



Love.

Fucking junkie scum.

So, I was doing the laundry today and I found some of your old clothes mixed in with the stuff that no one ever got around to washing.
You fucking sleazebag.
I fucking hate(d) you so much. You ruined my life in the time you were here. Dear god, I can't even fucking put in to words how badly I hope you have an overdose and die. I hope I find you dead on the street somewhere so I can call you the first dead body I've ever seen.
Thanks for leaving all your clothes and notebooks filled with mindless psychotic diatribes and your bike here. If I wasn't so scared that you bled all over that one flannel Old Navy jacket you used to own and by wearing it I'd get heroin and Hepatitis C all over my skin, I would take it. I wouldn't feel bad at all.
I heard from your (absolutely gorgeous, sweet-hearted, Samantha Morton look-alike) ex-girlfriend that you're homeless again. And apparently you stopped in to the bookstore a while ago.
You're pretty, yeah, but it started to fade a while ago, and you'd better start fucking looking for a job and a home before your face starts to get as fucked up as the rest of you.

I remember the nights you'd spend in our kitchen, warning me of the dangers of drugs and tattoos and piercings, slurring your words and falling asleep mid-sentence. Your mind was literally fucking warped at that point. Fucking hypocrite. Get clean, then preach.
Actually, I don't give a fuck. Stay a junkie. You're not gonna get much more treatment for the hepatitis when you're homeless and jobless. Who's gonna drive you to the clinic?

In conclusion, Will Diggs, I hope you fucking die, you scumbag. I can't wait 'til the day I can spit on your shallow grave.
Maybe if you hadn't fucked yourself up so much, you would have been cool.
Scumbag.


(I'm sure some of you remember who this is about.)

Dear world, why do you suck?

Hi. My name is Carla.
On October 10th(?)
Wire, one of my favorite bands, well, EVER is coming to Philly
for $20.00
AT MOTHERFUCKING JOHNNY BRENDA'S

Johnny Brenda's is a bar. I'm not 21. Fuck my life.
Anyone know of anyway to circumvent this inconvenience?
Because, ya know, I'd love to see them. Like, I would LOOOOOVVVVVEEEEE to see them.
I'll let you know how it goes.

Lesch-Nyhan

Lesch-Nyhan syndrome - N.:
a rare, inherited disorder caused by a deficiency of the enzyme hypoxanthine-guanine phosphoribosyltransferase (HGPRT). LNS is present at birth in baby boys. Patients have severe mental and physical problems throughout life. The lack of HGPRT causes a build-up of uric acid in all body fluids, and leads to problems such as severe gout, poor muscle control, and moderate mental retardation, which appear in the first year of life. A striking feature of LNS is self-mutilating behaviors, characterized by lip and finger biting, that begin in the second year of life.
.....................................................................................................................................................................



Does it make me a horrible person that I'm absolutely fascinated with this kind of thing?

Take one tablet by mouth daily

WHOEVER WROTE THIS IN MY MYSPACE TRUTH BOX, PLEASE STEP FORWARD:

"you have more intelligence creativity and curiosity about the world in your little pinky than most people have in their entire body for a lifetime so what i can't understand is why are you depressed? at least i think you're depressed because you're taking that antidepressant zoloft. if you're not sexually active then why would you take yaz. i'm not being nosy and i don't know your situation so i'm not trying to tell you what to do. this is just how it looked to me."

The person who wrote this seems to know me somewhat personally.
Just for the record, yes, I AM what you would call "sexually active" (although somewhat sexually deprived) and I am depressed for many reasons, including the fact that I have an inability to cope with the stressors of day-to-day life, parental issues, and a deep-seated incurable loneliness.

Whoever wrote that, does that answer your question?

To write HYPOCRISY on her arms

If there's one thing I really, simply can NOT stand, it is this new-fangled non-profit
"To Write Love On Her Arms"
There is absolutely NOTHING more hypocritical than this new "movement" (except for, maybe, "pro-lifers")
It's a nice idea and all, but so was communism, and look how that turned out.
The fact is that people can not love without compassion. TWLOHA is based off of loving people you don't know, for the sole reason that it might make them feel better if they are a victim of depression. Basically saying "Oh, you're not special to me at all, but you are sad and you hurt yourself so I'm going to love you as equally as I love everyone else who hurts themselves even though I don't care about you at all and refuse to see the person past the depression." I don't know about you, Opie, but if someone were to say they love me (and millions of others) without even caring about me, it would make me feel pretty insignificant.
COMPASSION is what we are lacking. We are lacking the ability to sympathize with someone's personal situation, we do not even try to put ourselves in that person's (or animal, as the case may be) position. We only listen to the juicy part of the story, i.e. "And then my stepdaddy raped me" in order to get a quick and easy (but perhaps not full) understanding of a person's life. Rarely do we ask, "How did you feel after that? What do you remember about that? What was life like after that?" because most of us are self-centered and don't want to sit through someone's explanation.
There are the standard feelings one gets after they've been abused in some way. Decieved, hurt, worthless. But everyone has different feelings on different things. There is NO way to completely know how a person felt in that moment of pain, but you can at least TRY to understand.
TWLOHA, take note: there is no way to love without compassion and sympathy. Even if you utterly loathe someone, it is still possible to maintain compassion for them. And that is what is important.

And now, for the really hypocritical part:
TWLOHA is mainly endorsed by bands who write songs about depression and wanting to die.
BUT, it seems as though they think the point gets across as long as they wear shirts that say "TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS" and "LOVE IS THE MOVEMENT" and say "Don't kill yourself! We love you!"
That is not good enough. True, a happy song will not change the world, but I have had experiences in which a pretty song with happy lyrics makes me feel utterly euphoric. It is worth penning a song that makes you more than angry or sad, bands of today. At least be sincere in what you write. No one will know how you really feel if what you endorse is the polar opposite of what you write about.

Religion should also not be advertised as the most powerful depression cure. Many people (including yours truly) utterly detest religion and are much better off without the whole concept of "God". A major aspect of TWLOHA is God, Christ and prayer. According to the story on which TWLOHA is founded on, the character in peril is saved from herself, mostly by the power of Christ and prayer. This is nonsense. In my opinion, religion is about as comforting as being stranded alone in the desert. The entire concept of having to follow by an invisible being's rules (many of these rules are in human nature) in order to gain eternal bliss, I think, is cruel and unjust.
But I digress, TWLOHA's target audience is supposedly all people who are victims of self harm, depression and suicidal thoughts. But what if not all of this audience is not Christian? Are they then left to fend for themselves until they find God? This is utterly unfair and deeply saddening.
For many years I, personally, tried to find God. Simply nothing I did could bring me to honestly belief what I was trying to force down my own throat. I was miserable, and it was then that I realized that part of why I was so sad was because that I was wearing a mask of faith. It was not the overwhelming joy I had seen others become taken by. I was much happier with my atheistic ways, and still am today. If I am sad, I do not look to an uncertain entity for relief, I look to myself, my one and only self, for I am the ONLY person I know who can help myself. It is this way with everyone, and it is disgusting that ANY "benevolent" organization would try and claim this as untrue.

And so, in conclusion, dear reader: if you really care for people with depression, you will realize that simply buying a trendy tee-shirt to fund a corrupt, hypocritical organization is not NEARLY enough. Compassion is what we need, not generic, mass-produced "love".
One can not rely on an organization to make them love others. One can only rely on themselves. For ANYTHING.

I wrote this in my diary in my sleep last night. Not even kidding.

I woke up this morning and I read my diary (which was wide open)
and I had apparently written it in my sleep.
I don't remember writing it and the handwriting was incredibly sloppy

"I used to not take any pills
and I thought everything was okay.
Now I take at least six pills for different things
every day.
What has happened to me?
Am I going to die?"


In other news, The Cure is charging $75 for a stadium show.
It's not worth it.
I'm going to see Mission Of Burma for $18 and Circle Jerks for $13
Speaking of Mission Of Burma
The singer, Roger Miller, used to have a band called Sproton Layer
which is insane psychadelic stuff.
I recently got a vinyl copy of
With Magnetic Fields Disrupted
which is very good
and I highly recommend it
if you can find it.

<3

P.S. I take Zoloft, 4 green tea supplements, and Yaz every day. And some Ibuprofen if need be.

OMG OMG OMG WTF CVS.

First of all, I would like to apologize (especially to Neece) for not blogging in quite some time.

So, yes. Sorry.

First order of business:
I have written the best summary of myself ever on my Last.Fm (http://www.last.fm/user/VonDexter/)
It is better and more accurate than any "About Me" you've ever read/written:

I am vegetarian, straight-edge, and very tiny in height. I know how to kill a man with my bare hands and I have a vast amount of knowledge on green teas. I enjoy bathing naked in rivers, sex, and stealing things.

That's really the only important stuff you need to know about me, actually.

Rant time:

Why is it so fucking hard to get my prescription refilled for the only medication I take?
I went to CVS (the people who work in the one by my house are total twats, by the way) to pick up my birth control in the pouring rain without my umbrella. So, I get there and wait for about an hour in the lobby, reading Cosmopolitan and getting weird looks from old ladies. My number finally gets called, and I go up, only to be told that no one ever called my prescription in, which is total bullshit because I did it myself. So, I ask them to check extensively for it. Still, nothing. So, I'm like, alright, I'll go home and call the doctor. So, I go to walk out the door and I hear the pharmacist mutter something under his breath. Friends, I kidd thee not, this man has the nerve to call me a slut.
Thanks, pal.

I plan to add more later to this, but I don't think that's how it's gonna work out.

Ah well, at least I'm giving Neece something to read :D

Everyone, I did a dumb, dumb thing,

Today, after having just woken up from an abruptly (and untimely) ended nap, I tried to go on to YouTube. So, I typed in the URL, and Firefox says "Hey, that place doesn't exist. You sure you got the address right?" and I'm all like "Yeah! Watchoo talkin' 'bout?"
So, I press the "enter" button several times, getting more and more worried that somehow, in the last hour, YouTube got erased from the face of the earth.
Then, I realize the problem:
I was trying to go to YoouTueb.com
Dur.


Also, I was recently in Massachusetts, where I developed a tiny molecule of a grudge against Panera Bread.
My favorite kind of soup there, that I had gotten every time I ate there prior to this incident, is the Broccoli Cheddar soup (thank you Neece for being awesome and introducing me to it.)
The last three times I went (because it's the only good place in the immediate area around me to eat at) I order the Soup and Half a Sandwich combo, specifically asking each time for the kinds of sandwiches WITHOUT MEAT. You would think, ya know, since I don't want meat on my sandwich, maybe I'm vegetarian and would not like meat in my soup either. You could at least assume that and mention that the soup has a chicken broth base. But no, not a single one of the ditsy blond bimbos working the counter two of the three times I order even mentions that (and I doubt they even know what a vegetarian is). So, I get my meaty soup, thinking all is well and good, not even making the connection that maybe, just maybe, my stomach gets upset after I eat it because there's an ingredient in it that I'm not used to (chicken. dur.).

So, on my final day in MA, I walk in to Panera, ask about the meatless sandwiches, order the Portabello Mozzarella sandwich, and order my soup, only to be stopped by "But the Broccoli Cheddar soup has chicken broth in it" (by a VERY attractive brunette who definitely did not look as ditsy as her co-workers.)
"....Really?"
"Yeah, sorry. Did I just ruin your day?"
"No, it's alright. Thanks."

So, I end up getting the black bean soup and everything was alright, but Panera, you need to tell people if they're obviously vegetarian and what they're getting has meat in it.
Thank you.

On a lighter note, the wednesday before I left, Xiu Xiu played at the First Unitarian.
Not only are they my second favorite band, but they also put on a damn good show.


Br'er



Thao

And of course, you should know who this is:









Pardon me looking like the ugliest big-time doofus in the world. But it was way worth it.

Very much yours,
Z
(who looks like this)

Random thought (because I'm a sentimental little cunt)

I'm so so SO glad I stopped eating meat.
Animals are so pretty.
Especially cows.
Cows are sweet, gentle, and cuddly.

I'm more than positive a lot of people will be horribly cruel to me because of this post
(especially Jon)
But I really really really love animals.

(Regularly scheduled blogging will return next week)

Experiments in delicious.

I have discovered amazing.
Hot soy milk + Honey = Delicious.

I have also resolved to keep a to-do list.
And buy a small pet for myself. Perhaps a gerbil? Pet mouse? Fish?
And get a flowerbox for outside my window. Because having a view of the city from my bed, in my opinion, would be nicely complimented with flowers.

I have also decided to gradually descend back in to veganism.
Wish me luck.

<3

Devil town

Daniel Johnston show was last night.

I gotta tell ya, that man is AMAZING.
It was me, Joe, Carl, and Dave. 

It's practically impossible NOT to have fun with them.



It was everything I hoped it would be,

complete with two bottles of Mountain Dew to calm his nerves on stage, 

trembling hands, stumbling over words and sheer confusion.

He is one hell of a performer. It's really nice to go to a show where

people aren't moshing and throwing shit onstage and just acting like idiots

(DUDE, WATCH ME GRAB THAT CHICK'S TITS.)

I only got two pictures and about 3 seconds of crappy video, but just 

being there was enough.

Because, let's face it, it doesn't seem like he's gonna be alive for much longer.

(That's horrible, sorry.)



We also got snow yesterday.

Enough snow that schools were out early.

I feel bad for the places that never get snow. Even the people who totally hate

it who get it still know what it's like to experience snow.



I woke up this morning with three hickeys from three different people.

Attn: Couples of the world

Dear couples of the world,

Hi. My name is Z. First of all, let me preface this by saying I support you one hundred percent, as long as you're happy. I haven't exactly had the best share of what you have, but I'm not bitter at all about it. Really, it's fine. I don't want one anymore.
However, I feel it would be a disservice to humanity if I didn't express my discomfort with something.
It's more than fine to be in love and want to touch each other and show the world how happy you are and all. I'm TOTALLY fine with that. However, I would like you to refrain from necking.
Particularly in the "secluded" sections of my bookstore. I can still see you. Oh yes, I can see you; groping and all. I can practically make out every complete revolution of one tounge around the other (I could count them if I wanted to. Which I don't.)
I'm not saying you have to behave a la "Buffalo '66" ("We are the couple that does not touch. We love each other very much, we span time together, but we do not touch each other") but PLEASE take your necking/fondling/grinding/foreplay behind closed doors (or at least to places that you KNOW are secluded).
Hand-holding? Fine! I do it, too!
Quick pecks on the cheek and/or lips? Aww, how sweet!
Playful (and BRIEF) grab-assing/titty-play? Oh, you.
Makey-outy handfuls-'o-fleshy fun time? GTFO.

It's time you know that when me and my bespeckled friend with a breifcase stare at you in disgust, we are actually staring AT YOU. Not behind you, not to the side of you. AT YOU, YOU HORNDOGS.

Yours,
Z Von Dexter

This has been the worst experience of my life. EVER.

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
so, i had the worst experience of my life today.

S**** says:
You had to look at my face?

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
shutup!! you're soooooooooooooooooooooo fucking pretty.

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
you already knew that, though

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
but anyway

S**** says:
I love you.

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
i love you, too

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
i got this tiny sliver of plastic lodged in the roof of my mouth. i couldnt get it out, so i was sticking my finger down my throat and trying to pull it out. i poked some weird thing in my throat and it made me puke. and that stung a LOT.

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
so by that time, the plastic was almost coming through my nostril, and i kept on having to puke and it hurt so unbelievably bad

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
and it's still in there, it just isnt bothering me anymore

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
that was such an attractive story.

S**** says:
=[[[

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
hahahaha

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
i was laughing about it afterwards

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
but it was soooo awful!

S**** says:
Lol.

Jello Biafra Von Dexateer [And in the dark, we will take off our clothes][ ] says:
i dont even care how gross it is, it needs to be told hahaha


.........................................
There it is.
It was the single worst thing I've ever had to go through in my entire life.
I'll let you know when (and if) the plastic comes out.

<3

Anal.

I've been listening to the same damn Echo and the Bunnymen song and stomping my feet on the floor for the past hour because it's all I can do to keep from crying.
I miss being young and happy and virginal.
I was still in school and I saw my best friend every day. We'd come home, hang out til she had to leave, then I'd call my boyfriend at the time at 9 and we'd talk for hours.
I was so unbelievably happy. You could never know.

Today, I looked at my old Xanga for the first time in 2 years, for laughs. I ended up going so far back that I read my entries from when J***** and I were dating. I remembered every single day of those six months or so disgustingly well. I remember the silly bus rides home with Mary, the Panic! Squad (this club my friends and I had back when we loved Panic! At The Disco.), The Bookstore Crew, Pizza Fridays, coffee at Gleaner's, South Street after school, talking with Mary in the back of the bus (where only the cool kids sat) about me and J*****'s awkward sexual encounters and just random, silly things.
I miss the schoolbus. I miss Mr. Bus Driver. I miss him calling me "Pockets". I miss him buying us pizza and popsicles on Fridays. I miss going over the bump in the road and me and A. B. getting hit in the face with our knockers every day. I miss Mary going to the same school as me. A lot.
I miss Mary, period.

I also miss how J***** and I used to be. He was part of some of the best days of my life. I can't say I want him back. I just want those days back. I miss him ending every blog entry with "Love ya, C***a <3". I miss that first day we drove two hours to his house to meet him for the first time. That was pure magic.

I'm talking to a friend who I haven't seen or spoken to since 2nd grade.
I miss being tiny.

Hey, blog. I missed you.

I like things right now.
Things are nice.

The other day, I bought a pair of stereo speakers for ipods and mp3 players for 5 bucks.
I spent a total of $20.00 that day on things that I really needed. I borrowed $1.50 from Jinx for dinner at Peking Duck in Chinatown.
I've gotten most of my letter-writing and present-sending to people who I owe mail/presents to.

I also have a friend named Bill. He's by far one of the coolest people I know/have ever come across. Ever.

New Jersey was nice. I found two crab shells and a baby stingray pouch.
Brian [my autistic baby brother] now knows how to say my name and who I am.

It makes me not feel so cold and sad for a bit. :P

P.S. I really love Pavement. "In The Mouth A Desert" should explain why.

Pillows, lights, and a guy named "Stiff"

So, I have awesome friends.
At the moment, I'm referring to Jinx. Me, her and Keith hang out in my house and he teaches us shit because otherwise, we can never take the SAT because I have a goldfish memory and she smokes so much pot she can't remember what happened yesterday.
So, anyway, we finish up learnin', and I mentioned that I noticed how she was in such a good mood today. (Honestly, whenever I see her, she's stoned. She's always really silly but then quickly gets really "FUCK THIS, THIS IS TOO HARD". But today, she was so happy and silly without being bitchy at all.) She mentions that her medication just got upped so it's making her really silly and jittery. And she's not even stoned at ALL. And then she mentions that she met a boy.
I had seen her on South Street the other night with who I am assuming is said boy, but I didn't say anything because I was with people and she was with people and it'd be weird.
So, I ask his name.
The conversation goes something like this:


J: "His name is Stiff"
Z: "....Stiff?"
J: "Stiff. It's his nickname."
Z: ".....Stiff as in no fun to be around or Stiff as in *jerking motion*"
J: "I really have no idea. But his real name's Jordan."
Z: "Wait, that Jordan who you got smoked with in my room's name is Stiff?"
J: "No, different Jordan"
Z: "You have too many Jordans"


So, yeah, good times had by all.

On the subject of good times, I've had this recent spurt of "I FEEL LIKE MAKING STUFF!".
So far, I've made two pillows out of old tee-shirts, a string of rope lights with this bag of fake flower petals I got for 50 cents a long time ago just because I KNEW it'd come in handy some day, I've altered my Unknown Pleasures tee-shirt in to a tank-top dress thing, drawn tons of bunny people, made a few of that old art project where you iron leaves in wax paper so they stay, and a few more things that I can't think of right now.
Either way, I'm pretty proud of myself.
I bet I could make money off of that, actually.
Because I needs a monee.

<3

P.S. HEATH LEDGER IS DEAD.

DEAR WORLD

Dear world,
I want to learn to play bass.

Thank you,
Z

So, I can conclusively state that I've smelled the worst smelling homeless man in the world

In Philly, there are quite a few homeless people. The good thing about it is that they are the most adorable homeless people in the entire world.
Down the street from me, there's two homeless guys who come out at night who set up an entire living room right on the street, complete with couch, working t.v., and carpet. And then there's the Homeless Depot bunch, who hang out near Home Depot and are, hands-down, THE most adorable homeless people I've ever seen, complete with tans, taped glasses, "Homeless, please help" signs, and every other adorable homeless accessory you can think of.

But I was walking home this morning and got a whiff of the absolute most foul smelling man I've EVER come across in my entire life. It was one of those smells that don't hit you until after you're a few steps past the perpetrator. I kid thee not, it literally knocked me aback with power. It's not like I've never seen this guy, he's there ALL THE TIME, and today people were actually standing next to him and talking to him. Actually breathing in his stench! But I swear to you, this is what the Holocaust smelled like, except maybe to a greater extent. Just thinking about it is making me want to vomit.
Seriously, it was revolting! It was the kind of stench that you can't imagine ever coming off, no matter how hard you try.

On a different note, I made one of my best purchases so far this year. I was thrift shopping with Joe because he's awesome and I had nothing to do that day other than hang out with him, so I figured I'd finally purchase the classic thrift store staple, a giant plaid flannel button-down shirt. I'm about a decade and a half late on that trend, but it's alright, because this thing is beyond comfy and soft and awesome. And when I say it's giant, I mean it's GIANT. I've worn it to bed (I break things in by sleeping in them), which means I've slept in it completely naked, and it's even bigger on me then. But I think that's kind of part of the grunge-y charm of it, ya know?
It wouldn't have the same effect if it fit perfectly.

Well, I'm off to do something totally ca-razy and reckless, because that's what I should be doing.

P.S. I am not "going grunge", nor have I ever been much in to grunge. Except for Sonic Youth <3

Champagne bubbles, they're goin' flat

So, I'll be honest here: I hold quite a few prejudices that I'm trying to overcome. They're really stupid and unnecessary, really. But isn't that with all prejudices?

For example, I'm reluctant to listen to

• anything that came out past '98 (i.e. Xiu Xiu)
  
• bands named after books/literary heroes/characters/etc. (i.e. Josef K)
  
• bands with names similar to that of other, awful bands (i.e. "Built to Spill" sounds like "The Spill Canvas")
• bands that everyone knows (i.e. Black Flag)
  

And I'll really want to check out bands that

• Have cool sounding names (i.e. Bang Camaro)
• My dad likes (i.e. Wire)
• No one has ever heard of (i.e. Fischer-Z)
• Are post-punk (i.e. Joy Division)

Why? Because I am a weirdo. In fact, all of the bands I listed (with the exception of The Spill Canvas) I either really, really like or I love.
But for some reason I was really reluctant to check out Josef K until last night, because I did an awesome thing and looked at the Wikipedia list of post-punk bands and music binged.
I've come out of said binge with The Au Pairs, Josef K, The Alarm, Fischer-Z, and a re-kindled love for Spacemen 3
Out of the bands I checked out, I think the only ones I didn't like were Fra Lippo Lippi and Scritti Polliti, both of which were too new-wave for my liking. However, I liked both of their names, so I kind of want to take their names and put them with not-new-wave bands.

Well, I need to find some way to occupy my day today, even though I'm still quite sick.
Ta-Ta.

P.S. I really, really, REAAAAALLLLLYYYY hate New-Wave.

P.P.S I REALLLLLLLLY CAN'T WAIT FOR "WOMEN AS LOVERS"

I have succumbed to the Intarwebz' greatest attraction.

It came to me last night as I was getting a ride home from the mother of the child I was just babysitting
"I should write a blog"
Because everyone has blogs nowadays. So here is said blog.

I would delve deeper in to this story, but I'm quite a sicky at the moment and it's really not all that entertaining of a story.