she's creating her own space.

Alright. Let me be honest. For the past few days, I've been living in my second parellel. I'm still the same person, I just do things a little differently. Sometimes, I have to go back to the mentality that I was when I was 17 years old. I just needed to go back to the Feel Theory. Katherine knows all about that half-baked logic. Anyway.

Felicia's whole architecture thesis that she's working on is about consumerism and how the growth of America has affected the way we use space in our homes, and how that space grows in structure, but becomes wasted resources. Something like that; that's the best way for me to put it in a nutshell. So, I've been cleaning my apartment, and I just see my stuff. And I was thinking, that no matter where I am, I've always felt at home in my bedroom. That's just the place where I've always hung out. My parents know this. My old roomies all know this. Everyone just knows this. It's just weird that I now have my own place, all to myself. It's weird having to live in not just a bedroom, because I've gotten so used to having everything that I need to feel comfortable all in one space. When you spread your stuff out, you're just like, "dude, I really don't have that much stuff." And when you say it like that, it's pretty obivous psychology. I feel like I need to acquire more things that make me feel comfortable; like my possessions are a direct link to who I am, and just seeing this shit reminds me of who I once was, and am. We all tend to lose who we are, or at least I do. And so, I just need to spend time alone in my bedroom, with my stuff...with me. But with my three level apartment, it's hard to hang out in your space, when you need more stuff to justify who you are.

Lately, for the past few days, to be quite honest, I've just needed to feel who I am. So yeah, the Feel Theory involves narcotics and space. You just need to be alone. And occasionally, it's good to be with people who know the importance of having conversations created with silence, and with a general understanding of who you are.

That is all.

hiking up her skirt.

I think today I woke up at my latest ever, 2:30 p.m. I'm not proud of it...because, I didn't get anything done today. It started raining at around 3ish. It's still raining, and I left my umbrella in Katherine's car. I like the rain, but I hate it when it pours. My basement is getting gross and damp. And I hate the smell of basement, and that's exactly what the first floor of my apartment is going to smell like tomorrow. Now I have to do all my errands tomorrow.
I did manage to clean up more. It's starting to actually look like a living room down here. Okay, except for the lack of furniture, but at least the boxes are dwindling. I was going to bring some of them down into the basement, but the rain kind of prevented me from doing so. I think I just need to go through these boxes and really just start trashing things I don't need, like junk from when I was in school, and then take it all to one of those great paper shredding events.
I couldn't find these two paintings I did during freshman year. I really wanted to hang them up, but they weren't in my large portfolio, and they're definitely not in my professional portfolio. They must be at my parents' house. I ended up just hanging up a few pieces of design that I did later in my education, because I'm getting sick of looking at white walls. And I finally hung up those damn curtains. Although, the curtain over the door is still half-assed.

I'm not all horned up anymore. Too bad I didn't have anyone to be with when I was like that. Too bad I never have anyone to be with.

I want to see A Dirty Shame one of these days. I'll probably end up going alone. What a drag.

that's some terror twilight.

Today, Alison and I went to the Mütter Museum, which was extremely fascinating, yet at the same time, disturbing. Medical practice just looked extremely painful back in the days. I'm glad that I'm one of those people who rarely gets sick, or sent to a doctor. Not including psychiatrists. All I had for breakfast was a yogurt, so by the time we got there, my blood sugar was hella low, and the fetuses in jars started making me feel gross. Then entire time, one line from a Pavement song keep playing in my head, "Billie, my friend the Saint, you're perfect in so many ways, but you never looked hard at a fetus in a jar; you never saw your mama change."
Meanwhile, my sister Billie, can't figure out how to delete that Paris Hilton Sex Video off her computer. Funny.
After the museum, we went to the diner and got some eats...it was like shooting me up with some heroin. I felt so much better. The best line of the day came from Alison while we were waiting on our food. I believe it went like this: "...that tuna's probably been sitting there since '79." Yeah, it was one of those you-had-to-have-been-there moments.

songs for heartache.

...it so doesn't count if you didn't buy the alcohol. Right? Right, no way. Pounding a free sixer doesn't make you an alcoholic. But maybe drinking straight from the frozen vodka bottle in the freezer does. Nah, it just means you're ____ __ __ ___.

kill the gun.

So my weekend was actually pretty eventful, what with Sheila coming to crash. Friday nite, I met her at Felicia's apartment in East Falls, and we just went to Chubby's and got food and beer. Saturday, Katherine, Sheila and I went to the Franklin Institute to check out the Titanic exhibit, which was actually pretty nice, and a bit depressing. We were there from like nine a.m. until twelve p.m. so after that, we went to South Philly because Sheila was jonesin for a cheesesteak. We decided that we'd go to Geno's, because hey, we're not hardcore steak people. I actually thought that Geno's is hella better than Pat's. The cheese fries were delicious. We got ice cream afterwards back in my neighborhood at the DQ on South St. Katherine had to get back home, and me and Sheila just hung out until Felicia got off work. We ended up dosing off, and Felicia ended up knocking on my door for like five minutes before I instinctly just got up when I realized that she may be outside. Went to Downey's for dinner...I got the lamb special, and it was soooo delicious. I pounded three black and tans. And after that, we met Holly and three of her friends from PhilaU at Blarney South. I've always loved that place because they have Chimay on tap. But after one of those, I went back to the black and tan, because hey, you can't beat two beers in one. Felicia just crashed in my bed, because I had to drive Sheila to her car the next morning, which was parked at Felicia's building, so it made sense. We called it a nite really early, and I passed out. Kevin from New York called at like twelve a.m. but I couldn't talk to him because I was in that state of semi-wasted slumber, so I didn't answer. Today, I'm just gonna chill out, and talk to my sisters on instant messenger...and to whomever else decides to chat me up. Maybe I'll clean a little.

Nice. Alison wants to go to the Mutter Museum tomorrow. I've always wanted to go there. Should be cool. Plus, it's only like seven bucks with a student id, and I still have mine. Whereas the damn Franklin Institute set me back twenty-six bucks. I need to hang up the credit card that my parents gave me, because I think I've spent like 600 bucks in the past two weeks, and 500 of it was in the past two days. But I had to pay some bills, and there wasn't enough in my bank account. My dad is still gonna give me a verbal lashing...I know it. Now I really hope that CVS will hire me for that part-time gig, cause I seriously need to build my account again, cause I hate having to ask my parents for help. And I'm going to have to call home today and ask them to pay my rent. Actually, I called earlier, but no one picked up.

That silver piece of plastic is the devil.

too cool too.

cunt
Originally uploaded by cheersfortrout.

I still have that poster after all these damn years.


negative space kills me.

too cool.

meine
Originally uploaded by cheersfortrout.

I was just sitting here at my computer, and I decided I'd trash some photo files, because let's face it: digital cameras, design students, and macintosh computers is a recipe for mega gig takeover.
But I came across some pictures that I'm gonna assume were from either my sophmore or junior year of college (yes, not that long ago), because that's my room in mine and Felicia's campus apartment.
I don't know who took those. Chances are, it could've been one of those times when Katherine came over and we took drunken photos, and made drunken home movies. But I don't look drunk. I just look like a vagithug.

send her the comfort.

I don't really feel like talking to anyone today. So, I'm not. I still have to call that dude back though...I'll do it tonite.

Billie would rather us go home for thanksgiving, instead of christ!mas. I don't know if I'll be able to swing that. Airplanes make me bitter. I was looking up prices today, and all flights are around 300 to 400 bucks...which I don't have. And the longer I wait, the higher the prices will go. I'm definitely not going to drive. I just want to go home...just for a while. That's all I want.

search for sanctuary.

Yeah, a rant: I was looking at a map of the United States, and I realized that a pinpoint would be too big to narrow in on my exact location. It's huge. It's crazy how I sometimes end up driving thousands of miles to get to where I am. It's crazy how far away people are. It's crazy how I never seem to get anywhere. I had this half-baked theory once about how your personal happiness and well-being is closely related to orbital motion and escape velocity. Somehow I managed to write an entire paper on it. Sometimes I wish I still had that paper. I don't know. I always get the urge to just run away, and start a new life; and when things got too familiar, I would run away again. For awhile there, I ran away every summer, just driving for a few weeks. I just wanted to get away. I wanted to prove my theory. I did. I mean, moving makes me happy because I get the sense that I'm going places, and that I'm out there in the world. At the same time, it makes me feel like a complete sell-out because when things get too heavy, I'd just apply the right amount of speed to escape the gravitational pull of the planet. I always ended up making myself more unhappy because I realized that I didn't really have a place in the world, and if I did, I certainly hadn't found it. I wish I could say that I did find my place. I certainly love Philadelphia, but I still feel like a complete stranger. I've met a handful of wonderful people here, and I would hate to leave them. But I don't know. They all seem to know how to grow up, and I still feel like I'm sixteen with those dreams about exotic places and adventures, which in actuality will never happen. These people that I've met over the past four years are the only reason I'm really still here. I would love to keep moving and searching, but I also want to feel like I belong somewhere. I have to stay because I feel that whatever it is that I'm looking for is here. Sometimes, I wish I had a life clock on my hand like in Logan's Run, and it would tell me when I needed to start running. I'd want to be Leslie 8.

two minute lady.

I had an interview today for this part-time gig at CVS. Yes, I am totally putting that Bachelor of Science to good use, aren't I? Wow, it was the quickest interview in the history of time. Maybe not even five minutes. The chick was totally cool...and if I don't get this job that I'm way over-qualified for, then I must seriously be doomed when it comes to employment...but the search will ensue!

Mmm, I have milk and cookies. I love it when I forget that I went grocery shopping. It's the best. I'm gonna go have some cookies...because I can.

a case of the mundays.

Yay. Rusty's planning to come visit me. How cool is that? I'm all about it, because wasn't I just complaining about how I miss my good friends? I think yes.

I talked to Liz today. She said my dad enjoyed his birthday gift, which was tickets to a baseball game. Astros won. She also said that while my parents were in Houston, my mom bought her a couch from IKEA. Which is cool for her, but dude, c'mon I'm in dire need of some furniture. "Fuck yo' couch!"

I'll buy my own damn couch. Yeah. Right after I get a job. Speaking of jobs, today when I was walking back from the p.o. after sending off a resume, I nearly broke my ankle. Sidewalks are lethal. Somebody should do something about those.

This weather and season change is so killer. My hormones are outta control. You have no idea. I just want to rape somebody, and then smoke a cigarette afterward.

on the miami vice soundtrack.

It never fails: whenever either Katherine, or I mention something being cold, 9 out of 10 times, the conversation will shift into us speaking the opening lyrics of Foreigner's Cold as Ice. For example: "It's so cold today." "Yeah, I know, it's as cold as ice in my apartment." "And are you willing to sacrifice our love?"

Billie never called me back after waking me up at 2:30 Saturday morning. I felt like that virgin mobile commercial..."dude, it's two in morning." It's true that I could've called her back this weekend, but chances are highly likely that she was doing the drunk 'n dial, and wouldn't have remembered.

I guess I should close some windows before I go to bed, that way I can sleep half naked and not freeze my nipples off like last nite.

the indebt: past due.

I hung out with Katherine today. There's something about rainy days that makes me feel like going out and doing stuff. We laughed at some crazy dad at Dunkin Donuts. He flipped out when his daughter laughed and accidentally spit in his face. When Alfred came home, we went out to dinner. Funniest line during the drive: "...yeah, cause I listen to Judas Priest with a dildo in my ass."

The block on Pine St. between 6th and 5th is under construction, so an entire block of prime parking is closed off. Not cool...especially on a saturday night when everyone and their mother is trekking to South St. for crazed debauchery. Ugh. After screaming "motherfucker!" out the window to unknowing pedestrians a few times after passing up parking and going back down the block to find it newly occupied, I was seriously wanting to plow people into my grill. Right when I thought I was going to combust with rage, I got the primest of prime spots right in front of my alley. Suh-wheat. I'm not moving out of that spot until I have to. After that, I said "sweet," and then, "fuck it," as I walked to Wawa for a pack of smokes even though I told myself I'd quit, and after 4 days of no smoking. I had to settle for dykin' reds, because Camels were out of sight. But that first drag never felt so good. To everyone that I told I was quitting: sorry.

Alison went to Florida today with her family. It kinda sucks, because she's basically the only friend on my buddy list who's ever online...even though she always has that ghosted away message up, I know she's there. Okay, I'll retract that: Anthony's always online, again with the away messages, but I don't think he can really be classified with the only other seven people on my list, because he hasn't really taken the time...he has, but not to the full advantage. (I'll explain, as soon as I finish this cigarette.)

Another thing I realized that I was missing: rocking out in my car while driving around by myself. Oh, and also, being with good friends. I'm going to have to see if I can convince Roxanne to come home to Louisiana for christ!mas. Billie said she'd only go if Liz and I go. I'm there. Liz only lives in Houston, which is like 4 hours away...she'll be there. All we need is Roxanne, and then we can have a time. I miss the people that know me so well.

Oh yeah, I was going to explain something. Almost forgot. It's fucking hard to find new people who want to hang out with you. I actually feel kind of bad when people write me off as unapproachable and intimidating. I don't feel bad for myself, I feel bad for them. They really have no idea who I am, and they don't take the opportunity to realize that I'm seriously fucking nice, and that I care, and that I listen, and that I have the most sick and twisted, yet ridiculous sense of humor. I may be the most laid back and chill person you'll ever encounter, but seriously there is a side of me that can hash out the most rockin' adventures. I mean seriously, I'm a damn gemini, and it's true as hell when they say that gem's have split personalities...mine just so happen to be: who people want me to be, and who I know that I am (personal note to self: go back and edit that when you find the right words to describe those two universes that you fucking live in.) But then again, I'll play the role of the well known hypocrite that I am, because I know that I don't really take the time to get to know people either. I may be nice towards the general population, but that's just how I was raised. And sure, I don't go out of my way to make chums, but then again, I'm also intimidated by people as well. What can I say, I'm introverted as shit. And so yeah, I also feel bad for not taking the time.

Oh well, like I always say to people, "If you're friends with me, then you've got a fucking friend for life." Word. I'm loyal like that.

Even though Alison is the only friend who may read this: I love every fucking one of you bastards who took the time. And to you guys that I hardly ever get to see: I miss you all like, madcore. And to anyone that I may encounter in the future: thanks.

business in the front, party in the back.

So seriously, I've been having these hardcore XXX dreams, even when I'm not sleeping. It's kind of disturbing in a sense, because normally, I'm not like that. I'm talking like...whoa. Banged. That's the word. Anyway.

Everytime I have a realization, they're always quite similar. I want one that's completely new. It's okay though. Recently, I've been feeling a hell of a lot better about everything. I guess being honest with myself helps. I finally get it, you know. It's like what I do is my business and my choice, and there's no need for me to make excuses to myself, or to others in order to defend my position. And it's silly that it took this long, but I guess some things are so obvious that it makes you blind.

I've also come to the conclusion that the lack of classic rock has been keeping me in a sour mood. Because honestly, that noise is unavoidable in the South because it's just...the way. I've been here in Philly for too long listening to whatever it is that I've been listening to. Yeah, so I've been busting out the Mountain, Deep Purple, and Skynyrd. And dude, I don't care what anyone says, you seriously can not go wrong with Foghat...and REO Speedwagon. They're all guaranteed to make me feel like myself: "delicously white trash."

I gotta go home for christ!mas. I just need to go home. Going there always clears my head. It's true you know: you can take the girl out of the South, but you can't take the South out of the girl. Oh man, you know what I wanna do?...I wanna go shoot some beer cans with a .22 shotgun. It'd be even cooler if my dad would be willing to break out his .44 mag., or colt derringer. That'd be kickass.

oh, the sweetness.

Nice. I got my dsl today. Nice. Nice. Nice.

Heh. Today Alison came over, and you know, we did the usual going to the diner. On our way back to my place, we turned the corner of 2nd and Lombard, and these three kids accosted me to buy something to support their school. When I asked Alison why they came up to me and not her, she said, "Maybe it's because you're not white." Ha. That made me laugh.

--next day edit--
Actually, I remember it completely now: she said, "Maybe it's because they don't like white people." Ha. That's even funnier.

limited understanding of a mastermind.

Apparently, he said there's this metaphor behind it all. And apparently, I don't get it. And the sad part is: I was trained as a designer to understand visual metaphors. I just don't get this one. It drives me nuts. Fucking mad genius.

give it to her fast.

...and hard. I can't wait until Friday. Here's why: my dsl will be ready. Ha. Yeah, I'm such a nerd. I was totally geeking out about my modem not coming yesterday, but as it turns out, the UPS dude stopped by while I was out, and my neighbor had it for me. Now telemarketers might actually be able to reach me...but you know, I'll still screen my phonecalls.

So Sheila's supposed to come visit next weekend...I think. Felicia and I have been trying to get the date straight for awhile, and we still seem to be uncertain about when she's supposed to come to Philly. Katherine might bail due to her schedule. I hate planning things to do over the weekend. I can barely plan tomorrow. I prefer to just go with things, and if stuff happens, then it happens. So it goes.

burning handjobs for sale.

Today's my dad's birthday. I was glad that I called home in the daytime. The evening calls home always seem so much worse, because my mom has the time to nag me about finding work. She wasn't so bad today; she was more supportive than anything. They've just started that empty nest house renovation phase yesterday. Here comes the huge master bed and bath with a jacuzzi.
I can understand how they can't afford to support me, what with house modifications, Benz payments, my mom's obsession with gold jewelry, and not to mention Liz is still unemployed, as is Billie. All three of their daughters "ain't got no job," as Mr. John Lee Hooker would say. See, now I don't feel so bad because I'm not the only one.
I'm still trying like hardcore. I think in the past two days I've inquired and applied for like 4 or 5 gigs. And I still have a handful of places that I need to send shit to. Ugh.
I should just give Thai massages for rent money. I could; I've got the tiger balm. Or I could save the balm, and just sell sex.

Kidding...well, not totally.

she feels her way down the block.

I ended up walking to the PPA today to get my parking permit (finally, I am totally done with the legalities that come along with owning a car in the city.) And so, they're all the way on 31st St., and I'm all the way on 6th St. so obviously, that was a long walk. But it's not like I had anything else to do with my time.
It was just sort of calming to walk alone. I didn't have to deal with anyone, other than the few people who said hello out of kindness all along the way, but those people are always welcome to a warm smile. When I was crossing the bridge on Walnut, over the river, for some odd reason I felt like I was completely at ease. The water was calm, the sun was bright, the sounds of the city became nothing. And there I was, just walking, nothing to care about, nothing to be afraid of.
I like how when I walk to places, I notice the things that I'd never pick up on in a car. Like for instance, I would've never seen the blood splatter patterns on the sidewalk along Market. And I wouldn't have noticed the smell of the specials at the soup and deli joint. It's almost as if I actually become a part of something, but at the same time, I'm still just that ghost.
I stopped off at the bank to deposit a check, and in line I saw something I haven't seen in a long time: two Buddhist monks in their golden robes, and as usual, always with money. I bowed slightly and politely out of habit. And with that, I realized that I missed my mom.

receptionist: unhappy medium.

Wow. Yeah, I slept from 6pm until 10am. That's alot of sleepage.

I ended up finally hanging out with Eric this afternoon after having stood him up twice. He's an alright dude. He's not the type of guy that I'd bring back to my place on the first encounter though...unlike Hot Rod Tonie.

Felicia was really hounding me today about finding a job. It was like talking to my mother. I know she's just looking out for me, like my mother, but you know, it still makes me feel like a complete failure. I am trying to find something, believe it or not. But I also want to be happy. If I'm working someplace that sucks, chances are I'd quit or get fired for doing a lousy job.

I hate hearing my neighbor through the walls, or from out the window, when she's speaking baby talk to her puppy. It drives me nuts.

heavy metal pony.

Got my car inspected today. Got my oil changed. He's ready to ride. Saw Resident Evil with Alison. Entertaining. Had fun. Parking situation sucked between Pine and Lombard. I need to tell someone happy birthday today. I need to call someone back. I need to pass out. Worn out.

blues can speak for her.

I have a way of making people feel like jerks...but then again, they have ways to make me feel like one too.

Lately, I've been sitting quietly alone at my desk, fumbling with a Rubik's cube. It makes me think. Thinking gets people in trouble. Everytime I get close to solving it, I make a few moves that totally messes everything up. And I can't go back and fix it. One day, I'll solve it.

I want blue and red paint. I have a lot to say.

they dine on flesh.

Christ. I had to wake up at like 4am because I think I had bedbugs. And you know, I really didn't think they actually existed, like they were some camp myth...or at least something that only got you out in the woods. I think they were on my afghan, which I put on my bed because I was cold. Bad move. I just kept waking up, and it felt like my flesh was being torn into pieces. And I actually have bite spots on me. Yeah. So I just got up, and stripped my entire bed, and am washing everything at 5am. What a drag. I just put those sheets on, too. Oh well, I've been meaning to wash my actual pillows, so I may as well do them now with everything else.
I can't wait to put everything back on my bed, and then take a shower, and then take a nap.

lack of experimentation.

This couple from new jersey wants to do me. I don't know about that. Cute couple, but no thanks. Too bad though, cause I am in a state of being in heat. Follow the cycle of the moon; it's like clockwork.

My trip to 12th St. to take care of some business turned out to be a bust. The place was under renovations, and their second office was in south philly. It was way too hot today to for that trek. Plus, I was wearing a black shirt. No thanks.

an island of such great complexity.

I ended up having a bad day. Not really. Okay, only for about a few hours...from like 1:45pm until 3:00pm. I was just cleaning, and I finally unpacked my physical, hard-bound journal that I've been keeping for almost five years. It's really just a sketchbook, and since I write smallish, I figure I'll have it until I die. My intent was for it to be found and read after I died, and it could be used as a first-hand account for history. But really, it's just kept to document my personal growth, so I don't know how that could be used for history.
I decided I'd update it, since my last entry was from July. I ended up just being brutally honest with myself, and it ended up being one of those entries that made me cry because I told myself everything that I knew, but didn't want to hear. Some things I previously typed here in my blog, but when it's on paper, it's just so much more harsh, because it can't ever be deleted.
The main point that I was trying to make was admitting that: "I am just afraid of...living" and that I'm so, "afraid that I'll actually do something with myself, and with my life...but at the same time, I really want to actually do something with, and for myself."
I didn't come up with any sort of conclusion, or ways to make change. I just ended it...probably because I'm such a fucking coward.

...and yes, I stole that title from a pavement song.

me, and my indie rock queen.

I got up twice in the middle of the night to get two different blankets. I was freezing. I was still freezing with the extra blankets. I need someone to sleep next to me.

I spent the last two days cleaning up my downstairs...in my apartment, not on my body. It looks better, but I still have shit lying around because I ran out of places to put things. So I gave up on finishing that and I've just been putting cd's onto my ipod, because I haven't done that in months. The Party Shuffle option on iTunes is totally rad. I realize now that I have a bunch of old school indie rock that I haven't listened to in years. Sebadoh used to rock my socks in highschool. Listening to those old albums is totally refreshing, because a lot of the bands today all sound the same to me...in a bad way. The nineties indie rock revolution was a great thing, my friends.

time has lost its hold on the new frontier.

Earlier last week, I was suggesting to Billie to take a trip to Indonesia for her anniversary vacation. Later in the week, she was suggesting buying property in Bali. I now understand why it's a good investment.
I was thinking about how much I've spent last year on rent and utilities, and how much I will spend this year. That's going to pan out to be about 16000+ USD. That's just about how much I owe in student loans. That's just sick.
So, I got to thinking about Ben Wilson, and how he always told me how he hated the United States and it's policies, and how he leans toward communism...what do you expect from a political science major. And then I got to thinking about how he's been living in China for the past two years, living like a king. Then I was thinking about last year, and how I told him how I always wanted to make out with him in high school, and how he was flattered...yeah, I was just thinking about that; no point will be made.
Okay, so my real point is this: I really hate having all my money going toward a place to live, because really, in the end, what are you left with?...the answer to that is: not much. How are people supposed to happy with their lives if they're living like how I'm living? I wish I listened to Ben in highschool. He had it all worked out...he has it all worked out. He lives like a fucking king. He was supposed to come visit me in philly when he was coming for a short visit to the states. That was supposed to be last month. I haven't heard from him in forever...I hope he's not dead.

the perks of being high.

donuts
Originally uploaded by cheersfortrout.

Liz actually sent me this picture to use in my thesis last semester. I like it so much that it's currently on my desktop.

I'm actually just trying out flickr, because I have Hello on my pc, but my mac needs some photo love too.

go go, gocco.

I went to this Inn with Katherine and Felicia this morning, cause they were selling all their shit. I picked up a chair for my desk, and a weird lounge chair that has the ugliest covers. Eventually I'll get some fabric to cover that shit. But hey, at least I got a few pieces for my ass, so now I don't have to sit at my computer on the floor.

Katherine got our deposit money back. I basically just blew my hundred.

I have this project I want to design, but it'll require me to get screens and bulbs for my print gocco. I have to check the art store when I get some cash. And I want to get a couple of canvases to execute a few ideas I have for paintings. I'm ready to be an art fag again.

Having my own washer and dryer rocks.

quite the honor.

So Billie called me on my home phone right as I was getting off the cell phone with Roxanne. As it turns out, Patrick proposed. And yeah, she asked me to be the Maid of Honour. Of course I'll do it, cause not only is she my sister, bitch is basically my best friend. There's no set date, but it's definitely going down.

coming up dykesized.

I'm smoking Marlboro reds like a dyke. Not because I really want to, just because I have to until I finish the pack, and by then, hopefully the corner store will have restocked on Camels.

We went to the Roxy earlier today to finish what we started yesterday. Five bucks for a matinee is what I call a sweet Deal...haha, Alison, I know you'd probably hit me on the arm for that.

Roxanne called me and I missed her calls. She left a hard-to-understand message that deciphered out to be: "We're going to Vegas, call me back." I still haven't heard back from her. Knowing her, she was probably going to front me a free trip out there, cause she can and because she's rad like that. And, I'm a dumbass, and I think it's safe to say, that I've been a lousy friend as of late. I gotta fix that.

edge of your seat.

So, I was/am hanging out with Alison today, and we decided to finally go see Hero. And you know, we're getting into it, and it's awesome, but after about an hour into the movie, the film just totally goes berserk. Weak. Totally weak.
We got our money back and we're gonna go see it tomorrow, but still, talk about bogus.

working behind that rig.

Billie got her computer fixed, which is good cause now we can communicate more. Email makes my day.
I actually got something in my inbox today from a stud in Brooklyn who found me on Friendster. He's the editor of some magazine and he's sending me a copy. Nice. Free stuff rocks. New people rock. Crack rocks.

Everything else is boring.