don't mistake me,
dear people

wandering the tundra

seeking warmth
finding fire-shaped ice

There is no Away

Let us go now
-spread ourselves from out this doorway

Make, not a path
but a carpet
heel to toe
let us claim this land

Let us discover our mountains
and chisel them to our likeness
bold and bright

Let no ocean-line stop us
but fly
knowingly
into the sea

Leap from off this shore
leaving mother of pearl froth
in our wake

Let us say of the night:
our night
the dark sky our daily window into the infinite beyond
uncountable multitudes
watching and waiting
light traveling impossible distances
to be reflected in our eyes

So let us say:
our earth

And let us plan:
our galaxy

And let us hope:
our universe

Tremblingly aware, awaiting the next leap
this the first step
from out this doorway

so where am i

I find myself
my hands inside my pockets
star-gazing at the horizon
holding my breath.

throw my head back, laughing

how can I find myself
here
if anywhere at all?

big breath in
small step out

21days of sorrow 21 days of light

fifteen years of looking for the Right One
thirteen weeks of fleeing in the bright sun

slash it open
feel inside
take my scars and
try for size

wait for the morning
cry for the night

toe-tapping
nail-biting
my eternal dilemma: fight vs. flight.

I left you you you

but it doesn't count count count

oh shush you oh honey

I Dream in Shades of Desire

in my fanciful musings
i dream of times that have passed
places that have never existed
and things i shall never live to see

i dream of loves i will not enjoy
seas i'll not sail
hearts i'll not break.

i dream in shades of desire

there's a certain delight

in a delightfully large mess
that one has made oneself
in a space which one loves
of objects one enjoys

to sit alone and smiling
drinking your glass of wine
wearing unseasonable clothing
and gazing at your piles

of fabric scraps
of thrift-store books
of shoes and purses
of mis-matched chairs
of empty cups and kitchen towels
potted plants and pencil jars

gives joy
the joy of having done
the joy of ownership
of having the ability to say
"this have i made,
and so shall it remain
for all that i survey
is rightly mine"

this is sometimes worth more
than order

i'm afraid (repost from myspace)

november 28, 2005:

I’m afraid of my passionate emotions. I’m afraid that extreme emotions mirror each other. I’m afraid that if I got to know the people I hate that I’d discover I love them. I’m terrified of the crippling dependency that comes with loving people. I’m afraid that I’m not enjoying my city enough. I’m always afraid that I’m not appreciating my life enough as it’s happening. I’m afraid of forgetting events that have happened to me. This is a very practical fear because I have a mind like a steel sieve. I’m afraid people will think I’m greater than I am. I’m afraid of letting down my dad. I’m afraid that no one actually gets me but jenn. I’m even more afraid of people who think they really get me and just don’t. I’m afraid of being so mildly unhappy that I don’t realize it’s killing me, until I meet someone who throws it in my face. This is a logical fear because it’s happened to me before. Im afraid that everything I do is routine. That I cant remember things ive done because they are so very commonplace to me that I cant be sure if they’ve even happened at all. I’m wildly afraid of being un-unique. Of being a follower. Of not being true to myself. Im afraid of judging other people. Im afraid of finding out that not caring what others think of me influences me in such a way that makes it the same as caring.

and it opened up my eyes! (repost from myspace)

december 1, 2005:

ace of base "i saw the sign" is a very good song. stop acting all uppitty about it, like you're too good for them. asher sarlin and i can't both be wrong.

do people actually change? (repost from myspace)

december 6, 2005:

Or do you just become more or less intensely you through choices you make? Or can you not help but be true to yourself if you are the one making your choices? Is it possible to betray yourself? Or to teach yourself a lesson?

Is it wrong to expect people to keep on being the same as you remember them? Is that an insult? Do we remember people based on a package created of all their characteristics? Or are our memories of them only a shade of their characteristics we admire most? Or their characteristics we despise?

Are expectations the same as stereotypes?

By striving to be other than you are, are you being more, or less, You in the present? Is it more honest to accept yourself or to change yourself?

mindless (repost from myspace)

december 19, 2005:

i went to click on your pictures link and it somehow opened back up my JDE screen for work. it was like myspace was telling me to quit slacking off.

The sky wouldnt be shit without clouds. im driving to work in the morning and the sunrise is breathtaking and im having trouble maintaining my lane from looking at it. and im expecting everyone around me to be looking too cuz its HOT PINK AND HUGE!! but no. the mindless beautyless drones are just driving. who can drive at a time like this?!? look up, worker bees, and behold! life! it's everywhere!!



and on an unrelated note: please dont hack into my myspace and change my personal info. thats rude. i dont do that to you. except you, scott. that was totally me.

it's a new day, but it all feels old (repost from myspace)

january 3, 2006:

Maybe you didn’t know, because I certainly didn’t, that harps are ridiculously expensive. Please be on the lookout for one that costs less than Egypt, cuz I really want one. I have this fantastical idea of playing harps at weddings for a few hours each weekend then lounging and volunteering the rest of the time. Really im desperately seeking something that will pay, and that I will neither dread nor loathe. No such luck so far.



If there were some way to receive monetary compensation for starting and then not finishing craft projects, then that would be the career path for me. I love trying new things. Love love love it. But Im not quite so good at following through. Or maybe ive just not found anything like I like enough to do all the time. Except eat sushi. That hobby’s working out quite nicely. If youre in the market for a half cross-stitched stocking, or a half-knitted scarf, or a half-painted portrait, then let me give you my business card. “Andi: she almost does a lot of stuff.”



And, to sum up: A cop, when pulling you over, will never, under any circumstances, compliment on you the excellent place you have chosen for the both of you to pull over. Doesn’t matter how appropriate nor how fabulous, he will not ask for your licenceandregistration then say “and I just want to say thank you for the thoughtful pulling over spot.” Don’t kid yourself.

it sucks when youve got all the answers (repost from myspace)

january 13, 2006:

and none of your friends want to cheat off of you.

two left feet and two right shoes (repost from myspace)

january 19, 2006:

i wonder about circumstance. and coincidence. i think a lot about people whose lives touched mine on a tangent. and for the second of overlap, it was electric. so i wonder, were the circumstances different, would we have been best friends? could we have been soul mates? could we have had a lovely tragically doomed romance? because i think we could have.

then i wonder what circumstances im squandering, and in which im reveling. the people whom i love, is it just because i was in the right place at the right time? is that all it is? well, no, i'm not seriously concerned that coincidence is all it is. but how large of a factor is it? what if i had stayed at that party talking to you before you left for europe a half hour longer, instead of leaving with jonathan? would you be the one whose thoughts i could all but read for three tragic months? what if i had asked you to help me hash out a drawing one night, instead of asking tom? would you be the one calling me to help you hash out your relationship problems, three years later?

do i really want to know?





yes. yes i do. i dont know what i think i'd do with the knowledge. but, did that ever stop desire?

i got homeboy bonanza (repost from myspace)

january 26, 2006:

even bands that came before the beasties boys stole from the beastie boys.

i refuse to take life in prepackaged conceptual units.

coincidence does not prove causality.

i dont know where i'm going with this.

maybe.. "dont ever be afraid of who you are." no one's gonna do it better than you.

maybe im trying to say i want some cowboy boots and i dont think i should be a redneck because of it. or maybe i'm being overly concerned about Right Now Andi to avoid thinking about the Out of College Andi who has to go get a career in the near future.

in a way i almost miss living with my parents cuz they were always making me do shit. i cant make me do anything. i cant even make me file my nails. much less apply for, pay for, locate, pay for parking for, and take the GREs.
am i secretly afraid of failure? If so, then it's one of those secrets that i'm keeping from myself even. cuz i don't think that's it.

maybe im wondering why my dad is keeping me from tatoos. am i afraid he'll stop paying the one bill he pays for me? cuz i bet i could swing $400 more a year. or am i just afraid that it will be the last straw and he'll finally be Ashamed of me? or am i using the Immanent Disapproval as a sort of master excuse for not doing things im unsure about?

get in where you fit, and go on and shine (repost from myspace)

february 15, 2006:

Today's sunrise was spectacular. Best since the Hot Pink Huge one. Sunrise over the city is the prettiest thing i see all day, and my only recompense for waking up so freakin early. Also, i'm trying to appreciate it as the one and only not-daylight savings time thing i like. Once the time switcharoo comes (finally! running outside after five p.m.!) I'll no longer be able to watch the sun make its majestic entrance into day while i drive to work. But for now, it's the loveliest thing i see all day, most days. Lovlier by far than my Wall of Purses. Lovelier than when customers show me pictures of their babies. Lovelier than the puppies at the store where i buy mice for the snake. Lovelier than picking out cut flowers at the Whole Foods. It's so dramatic and fleeting. It might be a metaphor for life. But i'm not gonna force Sunrise Over the City into any kind of deeper-meaning mold like that. Just take it as it is: fabulous and serene.

I gotta start going back to the gym. I stopped going when i caught a cold about three weeks ago. Next time you see me, ask how many months along i am. That should get me back on the treadmill. Once a customer did ask me if i were pregnant. No, i'm wearing a bulky sweater, fucker; it's cold out.
But i did go the gym that night.

No matter how much i work out, my Girls won't go away. They're a blessing and a curse.
mostly a curse though.

I hate pop-ups. Not the normal kind that sort of hide behind whatever page you're looking at, then when you go to close down, you can just X them away. No, those are retarded, but handleable for the most part. No, what i hate are those stupid pop-ups that pop up somehow within whatever page im trying to view, and have transparent backgrounds so i cant even find the X to make them go away. Good gosh! i just want to know the weather here, kids! I do not want to see the new Buick Lucerne options! i did not somehow type in the wrong web address. don't insult me!

Joe reminded me: A guy i used to know, Kraustopher, was a manager at abercrombie when i was in high school. Once, for reasons i cant remember, i helped him unload a new shipment of jeans in the stockroom. (this is strange for a number of reasons; feel free to attach your own underlying purposes.) So,based on my experience with the unpacking process, here's how i think the packing-up process goes at Abercrombie Itn'l:
1. rub jeans on stones
2. crumple jeans some. run over with car.
3. fold jeans in half then roll into a ball
4. secure with two rubber bands
5. pack tightly into box
6. cover liberally with dirt. ground dirt. brown dirt
7. tape up box and send off to cobb county and points beyond.
Now, my comment here is: box? Does that box protect the jeans from... clean?

And here's the truth: Apparently i do care what people think of me. hmph.
Here's how i realized it: I hate oprah's book club. i rarely read current fiction; i prefer the old stuff. but when i do read new books, i'm appalled to think the masses (masses? who's watching me read?) think i'm reading it because oprah told me to. i get enraged at the very idea. maybe i just thought the cover was pretty. or my mom gave me the book. or jenn recommended it. i hate reading a book and enjoying it, only to find months later that oprah has begun to endorse it. it makes me like the book less. i am not a mindless drone. i do not let talk-show hosts make decisions for me. neither should you.

also, i think im beginning to let petty inconveniences actually bother me. maybe it's volume of inconveniences i feel i am subject to. or maybe im becoming a bitter old woman of sorts. or maybe i should just come off it cuz life is freakin short, and it doesnt matter if someone forgets to shut the door. or if someone cuts me off, then confusingly flicks me off. or if someone takes the tray of sashimi i was gonna get, while i'm off picking out a baguette. it really just doesnt matter. not one bit. they're called Petty for a reason.

yippy-yo, you know this kid? (repost from myspace)

february 20, 2006:

Monday morning sings the blues; my soul can tolerate nothing else. I wear bright colors to ward off the charcoal ghost of who I was this weekend.

My face scrubbed of the telltale makeup, my nails scoured of all but the faintest traces of black. Black clothes tucked away, so as not to be confused with who I am this weekday.

The weekend has nothing to do with nine-to-five, and my workday fingers feel numb to their task. Could I live my whole life in the weekend? Would the pressure of nonchalance crush me?

The weekend is driving head-first into the coming storm with the top down: what am I inviting?

Well, right now, I'm inviting my first cup of coffee.


(the coffee at work tastes like swift death from above.)

there's no peace for loud thinkers (repost from myspace)

april 6, 2006:

it's been a while since i've blogged.

ginny and i once spent the better part of a week thinking up Old Timey Sayings. we then tried slipping them into everyday situations to see if people would question us. No one questions ginnyandandi.

im making some art again. last week i made three drawings. this week i made a collage, which was really like three drawings and four poems. it's refreshing, frustrating, and time-consuming. so it's nice.

im moving soon. about three miles from my current abode. and im getting antsy about it. i like to move. i move at least once a year. i enjoy most everything about it. i like packing up. i adore unpacking. i love a change of pace. i like new faces. i like new layouts. i like re-decorating. but im not moving for a month and a half, so i'm in no position to be this antsy.

this job is no good. i need more money. i need.. a change of pace. this grand-scale ADD is a little trying. i need to go the gym. i was going a LOT, then my gymbership ran out and now i have to pay for three more months. the poor is killing me.

where should i get a job? seriously, where?

this blog is bitchy and uninspiring, and that's not how i feel. i feel.... antsy and helpful. and flightly. i feel a little flighty.

but i've figured out how to make my own myspace pages. so i also feel proud.

oh, also, i went to barbados. one backpack for seven days, and i still packed some stuff i didnt wear. glorious.

the coffee here's just water dressed in brown (repost from myspace)

april 13, 2006:

work is strange and limbo-y. and you know i dont mean it's tropical and we're seeing how flexible everyone is.
we're already talking about SEMA next year, cuz i'm like a rockstar, and now im thinking i'd like to stick around for that. and i've calculated that a raise of 11.5% will keep my butt in this chair.
measely, really.

my wrists and ears are disproportionately small to the rest of my body.

was gonna work out tonight. seriously. big plans to go running, outside, around the park. even stop by to see Micah. then dad brought me my speakers that are so importantly compatible with my record player. now i'm gonna fetch said lp spinner from christian's, along with my stack o' records, and rock out whilst i scrub my apartment. not the kitchen though! mr. ward's taken to cleaning the kitchen. i simply couldnt be more thrilled. so, ill clean the rest of the apartment amidst delicious pops and white noise. then bath! and then crocheting in front of the tv. then to bed early. early. so sick of being tired. it makes me mellow and smiley to think of how much sleep i intend to get.
plus payday will be tomorrow this timearound. that also makes me smiley and mellow.

the coffee at my office is simply terrible. you'd think maybe i'd stop drinking it. or take action against it. rise north! strike east!
but no. not me.

too smiley and mellow for all that. they call me mellow yellow. and quite rightly.

forgivemefatherforihavesinned... (repost from myspace)

may 9, 2006:

it's been three weeks since my last confession.

so im not moving anymore.

christian moved though, which helps. at least i get to live out of boxes and move furniture around and his place.

what i love about tuesdays is Lunch with Ben. here are some reasons why, cuz i know you care: it's lunch, so it's got a prescribed beginning and end. it's ben, and if you still like me after living with me, then that's great. he pays cuz he has this Job, and there's nothing like a free lunch. he doesnt give me a guilt trip if i reschedule. he likes having breakfast for lunch and like that too. he knows a lot of great racist jokes, and theres nothin like a black man telling racist jokes in public. he wears big funny sunglasses, and so do i. he makes fun of me and i make fun of him and we love each other. i never have to worry about Finding Time for Ben. we've found it. it's 11:30-12:30 most tuesdays. theres none of that sohowsworkworksgoodsohowrethings talk cuz we just talked last week. so we can cut the shit and talk about what makes us who we are.

i wish i had this with all my friends. the lovely, no-pressure, just for an hour, just taking a breather from all the things people want me to do. just having a drink. just planting some seeds. just having some tea. just going for a run. just one hour with everyone, one at a time, once a week.

or just the ideal of it.
i really go in for impractical crushes. i love a lot of things about them, just ask ansley or lauren. i cant list out my Secret Loves in my head starting back in high school. but i think what im really after isn't a romance. what i think i really have, when i'm honest with myself. are friendcrushes... like, "i wish i were *such* good friends with andy," or whomever. just cut past the bullshit. cut past the uncomfortable getting-to-know-you and get straight to judgement-free completely relaxed completely dependable friendship. it's not impossible. i did with with tom moran. straight from "oh, hey, dont we have class together?" to calling at midnight for advice then pajama party watching cartoons friendship. it is so magical, and i think we all take it for granted. i know i do. i have always felt that there is nothing so noble, nor so simple as friendship.

on a related note, why not buy me a drink? i dont get paid this week, so i cant aford it, but lets get together for an hour and talk. or sit and make fun of people who walk past us. im selling rekindled friendships. cost: vodka martini extra dirty.

today is a day when i wish samantha hadn't moved.

may 19th is a day when jenniferelizabeth moves back!

june 20th is a day when ginny comes home to soddy daisy for a teasing little taste of pretending she's coming back in america, when she's really just coming back to texas. which is crap. but im not bitter.

music to my ears (repost from myspace)

may 10, 2006:

kurt cobain considered nirvana's music to be pop. his stance was that if it makes it on the radio, then it's popular. hence... it becomes pop.

similarly, pop music is popular because the music is freakin catchy. there's not always content to back up the initial draw, but the draw is there.

so my point is: i like at least one song from any band on the radio. on pretty much any station. and i refuse to feel guilty about it. yeah, im listening to celine dion. she had a good song one time. and it's all coming back to me now.

also, nickelback is a terrible, terrible band. i dont like anything by them. but if you do, thats fine. if someone truly loves music, then i think it speaks to their soul. really connects with who they are at their core. and it's inherently wrong to look down on someone for the reflections of their soul.

if you dont know, you better ask somebody (repost from myspace)

may 19, 2006:

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/end.php

i am jack's need for a change of pace (repost from myspace)

may 22, 2006:

'd like to give a big ol peace and shout out to good friends. friends who stand by you while you tell bold-faced lies to strangers, and never even flinch.

jenniferelizabeth's back! and i missed her. so we went bar hopping in athens. it was similar to old times, only with less picking up of random guys. which resulted in a significant net loss of free drinks.

it's a dizzying lifestyle. or maybe that's not the lifestyle talking, but rather the shots.

meh.

either way, im thrilled she's back.

mad props to jennclough, for never not being a tough-ass. and never not tellin it like it is. and never being ashamed of anything.

also, jennclough is now, apparently, Jennifer Ridly.
which doenst really do it for me. im switching to jenniferkelly. we'll see how that works out. either way, she's moving to salt lake city. im sad at how like two ships passing in the night she and jenniferelizabeth have been for the past four years.

que vous reserve l'avenir? (repost from myspace)

may 1, 2006:

Gemini: i need an artsier job

Coquette: i need an artsier job too

Coquette: lets start an artsy business together. we can wear long necklaces and never show up on time and eat children for lunch. and quote American authors in affected British accents

Gemini: that sounds yummy. and we can take spa lunches

Coquette: yes. and protest things like lunchmeat and gender inequality and breast cancer

Gemini: and wear brightly colored heels to our hearts' content

Coquette: oh yes. and red lipstick

Gemini: we can stand up for the cause! and lounge about for it

Coquette: fight the proverbial good fight! and carry around cigarettes but never smoke

Gemini: never! but have ebony filters and silver cases. and ash on our assistants
Coquette: PRECISELY. ohhhhhh I have shivers of joy

Gemini: that is THE job for us

Coquette: we can decorate our "office" with scarves and random sculpture and live young boys who have to pose as statues

Gemini: oh oh oh. and paint their darling faces and eyes

Coquette: and call them "darling"! but our office will really be 34th-floor terrace on a skyscraper in San Francisco

Gemini: and lean art on the walls but never hang it up

Coquette: yes! oh joy

Gemini: and the mirrors and chaise lounges we will have!

Coquette: oh countless. and wear ridiculous eyeliner

Gemini: and have desks with no computers. and perfectly red nails

Coquette: and floor to ceiling drapes

Gemini: layers upon layers of sheer and then opaque then shimmery drapes

Coquette: and manicures instead of status meetings! or during
Coquette: and skylights with colored glass

Gemini: and fresh cut flowers. and constantly telling everyone we're busy and late, but never go anywhere. and be rude to everyone but each other

Coquette: and sometimes rude to each other, but in a way thats sassy, and we go, "why, you wicked cow, how dare you!" and then kiss on the cheek and make up

Gemini: oh, but air kisses... cant smudge the large matte red lipstick

Coquette: and loud utterances of "muah"

Gemini: and flipped up collars on our tailored oxfords with french cuffs and pearl cufflinks

Coquette: haha and enormous rings from estate sales. and clip on earrings

Gemini: and oh! the martinis!

Coquette: and opera gloves sometimes

Gemini: oh we'll have to attend gala events! and show up at places "just to be seen, dahling." or send our darling little assistants at the last minute in our stead

Coquette: or, rsvp but not show up until theyre nearly over. and make a mad scene and float back out to be carried around by beautiful boys on a litter

Gemini: that does sound like us
Coquette: yes. it does. it sounds like perfection

Coquette: ooh and we can have beautiful smooth dogs that follow us around the office. like greyhounds or some breed other people dont know of. but they dont get close enough to get hair on us or drool

Gemini: Afghans

Coquette: yes, perfect

Coquette: and perhaps a monkey or two something too exotic for regular-type people. oh and give them ridiculous names like Deucalion and Eduardo

Gemini: and speak in French

Coquette: bien sur

Coquette: and have giant vanities instead of desks. with delicate crystal bottles

Gemini: oh yes! in design styles that "you've not heard of, of course"

Coquette: muahaha. and everyone will wonder what it is we actually do, and we will only smile condescendingly and say "poor dear"

Gemini: or, dont worry your dear head about it

Coquette: or "bless your heart"
Gemini: or laugh and look knowingly at each other and pour another glass of champagne

Coquette: which we spill a little on the floor and the monkey comes to clean it up with a silk cloth. and we will sit in the office all day and read novels in other languages

Gemini: particularly languages we dont speak. but look very exotic, and are very thick. really, we can just have piles of them lying around and never have to read them

Gemini: everyone will want to be us

Coquette: and they would have ribbons and lace marking places in them. and streaming out onto the floor

Gemini: oh yes... yards of lace for bookmarks

Coquette: and everyone would think we were crazy, except that we are so blasted glamorous that the derision and judgment just turns to admiration

Gemini: good gosh, we're glamorous

Coquette: we certainly are

Gemini: i can see our palm trees and mis-matched luxe furniture now

Coquette: and grand pianos and architectural fountains in the middle of the floor
Gemini: oh gosh yes. And we wont even *own* pants

Coquette: the word "pants" will never be uttered in our presence

Gemini: we'll throw you out for that kind of talk

Coquette: or at least, politely ask you to leave and then send our little south american boys to usher them out forcibly

Gemini: and amongst our fabulous tomes will randomly be very smutty books. but no one will dare to judge us. if andi and lauren like it, then pulp fiction must be fabulous"

Coquette: it will add to our power

Gemini: everything will

Coquette: our spectacular taste in smut

Gemini: hahahahahaha. sales in smut and russian novels will skyrocket

Coquette: porns will start hiring art directors who can do the pulp cover look in their movies

Gemini: we'll hold charitable balls for just the cause... so porn stars can rub elbows with artists and make favorable connections
Coquette: for they are really one and the same. and politicians the ribald , offensive, pudgy ones

Gemini: cigars will be given out like hors d'oeuvres. everyone will mention us in their acceptance speeches

Coquette: it will become a contest among them to see who can get us in first or most cleverly

Gemini: we'll be the next big thing. we will be the definition of In The Know

Gemini: le sigh

Gemini: and no one will ever see us eat anything but fresh fruit. and we'll make up ridiculous social rules and mock people who break them. "who eats in public? *snicker* the poor thing." oh! and never get our hair cut in this country, as a rule. Noone sees us shop but we're always the height of fashion

Coquette: oh yes. but I must amend tiny pastries to our acceptable public munchies. and exotic chocolates unavailable to those who search them out

Gemini: anything as long as it's best held with two fingers and desperately exotic and hard to get

Coquette: yes, and theres a general suspicion that somebody lost his life to get it to us

Gemini: gladly lost it
Gemini: Im suddenly very sad to be at my dull little job

Coquette: oh me too

Coquette: though Im pretending that my crackers are petit fours

Gemini: thats funny because Im pretending my water is a cocktail

Coquette: yes, of course. my computer screen is really an enormous art deco mirror, and i am gazing, not at project schedules and moderator's guides, but at my own lovely reflection and the reflection of the very chic fountain behind me

Gemini: and every time i blink, it's not with boredom, trying to stave off sleep, but just as an excuse to wave my thick false eyelashes languidly about

Gemini: maybe we should work on some ultra-fabulous one-word names

Coquette: or ridiculously long 5-to-7-word names, with absurdly adorable nicknames

Gemini: like Kitty, and Sasha
Coquette: like Kataryna Anja Desdemonia St./de la Croix

Coquette: kitty for short

Gemini: but make everyone try to say the full name first,

Coquette: yes, with accent

Gemini: then laugh condescendingly and gesture with our cigarettes, and say "Kitty, dahling. Just call me Kitty." then put our hand under their chin and say "arent you sweet"

Coquette: and the smoke circles haughtily around their heads and makes them cough, but they try to hold it in, so as to avoid looking base and vulgar
< style="font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif;">Gemini: because we would be very, very offended, becuase we only "smoke" the finest. only cloves, french strawberry-flavored cigarettes, and hand-rolled filter less ordeals stuffed to overflowing with turkish tobacco

Gemini: maybe we shouldnt be rude... maybe friendly but distant. we'll have to experiment.

Coquette: yes. Be rude only in a pleasant way, when necessary. maybe just be as contradictory as possible. Mannerly and gracious one minute, aloof and haughty the next but never quite abrasive or acerbic

Gemini: and we'll say things like "well, one must be polite, for you cannot always be nice."

Gemini: that sounds just right.

bittersweet chocolate and general ennui (repost from myspace)

june 7, 2006:

Buying books at the thrift store is sort of bittersweet for me. Its oddly exciting and sad. I love thinking I can get these fabulous words, this paperbound knowledge for 37¢. But then, who gave this up? I bought The Merchant of Venice at the thrift store this weekend. I can usually find a lot of Shakespeare at these places. Dont you think thats sad? Who is giving this up?
Maybe I love my books too much. Its a distinct possibility. Its a rare thing for me to put books in my give-away pile. I read and re-read, and quote, and bend bindings, and rip covers off, and tape the whole mess back together then Ill buy a new edition. Then Ill give the old one up to charity. But to read once then cast away? Really?

Finding an unbent gem at Salvation Army makes green-eyed-monster-andi all giddy and snatchy and sneaky-eyed. Treasure! Gold! Its mine! But it makes Chaucer-andi (you know, gladly would he learn, and gladly teach) so heartbroken to see what atlanta is casting away.

As a quick update:

My skills of an artist (subtle allusion) at work are not acting so bad as of late. I do not loathe my fliers so very much.

My apartment needs a good scrubbing. I should throw away a lot of stuff in my room or buy furniture in which to store what Ive got. Also, if Im gonna keep buying books at this rate, I really need another bookcase.

I got nice and drunk off sake for my birthday.

Christian is a dear, whose hair I need to cut.

I had a dream last night where I kept fist-fighting this lady for bringing Cola, Sunnis cat, into my hotel room all the time, and I woke up sniffy and itchy-eyed for hours. !! Whats that about? Are my allergies psychosomatic? If so, would counseling allow me to get a dog? Questions that keep me up at night. Yeah right. Like Ive ever had trouble sleeping.
I should make some more paper. Do you want some paper? I have some. Unless you are Micah. In which case, Im seriously making you some homeless wino paper. Look forward to it.

iwapele (repost from myspace)

september 5, 2006:

Today's word is Iwapele. It comes from the Yoruba, or Lukumí, and means "Good Character." It is further defined as "doing the right thing because it is the right thing to do, not out of fear of retribution or as a way of seeking rewards, but simply becuase it is right."

if you're reading this, you're not illiterate (repost from myspace)

september 21, 2006:

Most people consider JD Salinger to be one of the Great Authors of the past century, on par with Fitzgerald and Kerouac. Insightful, challenging, intelligent. So please tell me why no one has read Franny & Zooey? Im about 3/4 done with it and all i want is a little bit of literary discussion with one or more of my peers who has read it.

Also a surprising number of peers questioned have not read Catcher in the Rye. Now, i personally think it stinks, and cannot recommend that any of your punish yourselves by reading it at this stage in life, but come on! Isnt it required reading for every high-school english class, coast-to-coast, since the 1960s? Everyone talks about how great an auther he is, but it must be because no one's effing read anything by him.

Don't be sheep!
Form your own opinions!
Read Tom's blog!

And if you've read F&Z, come tell me. I just want to talk a little about it now... maybe more when i finish it.

i'm into music for music's sake (repost from myspace)

september 25, 2006:

I am not into music for the stardom. I feel that people who make music are like us. Like the rest of us. Like people who found their souls' calling in accounting. Or people who find joy and purpose managing a Super Walmart. They are folks who have figured it out. People who know what they can do and go out there every day and gogogo to make of this life they very best they can. They are admirable. I doubt very seriously, though, that I will ever be the gushy type to ask for autographs when I see Ludacris at Fellini's. If he were standing next to me in line for something, I might say, "oh, hey, Chris, right? I really enjoy your music. Have a good night." Cuz, come on, he's just a dude who does something well. And we all appreciate appreciation.



Which brings me to my second of three related points: I don't know what most of the people whose music I enjoy look like. There is a very small group whom I could recognize out of context. Mostly, if I found myself in line at Kroger behind some famous singer, I would be completely oblivious. If im ever on the same flight as a musician of some sort, I often have to be informed after the fact. Meh. I mean, if they were sitting there singing I'd know. And that would rock cuz it's the music that I dig. But just standing around, being a dude…not so much. Which I don't think is so crazy. Cuz im not in it for the dudeness; for them standing around looking like rockstars. Im in it for the music. The soul food.



So, but. There are a few bands and/or artists whom I can recognize when they're just being dudes. Just buying Doritos. Just eating pizza. Just flipping through the magazine rack. Not many, but there are some. Theyre either the high-profile super-famousy type, like Gwen Stefani, or someone whose cd I've actually bought and whom I really dig, like, say, Andre 3000.



And so heres my story:

My roommate, Tom, and I were walking around, doing some errands. So we're walking down the road, talking and laughing, we round a corner and boom! find ourselves at an Indigo Girls concert. These girls belong to the elite list of Bands I Can Recognize on Sight, and I am thrilled. Tom, being the only straight male in the crowd, is intrigued, but probably not thrilled. So they were just playing and singing out front of Criminal Records, to a crowd of 150 or so lesbians, me, and Tom. It all seemed so impromptu [although it wasn't] and organic [except for the speakers and amps] and I wish I had had more time to stand around in awe of the moment.



Rather than have a dénouement and conclusion, I'm just gonna stop writing and enjoy the memory.

phoenix offers nowhere to hide (repost from myspace)

october 24, 2006:

Nowhere else have I felt so much that, rather than inhabiting my lush green planet, that I am clinging to a planet's inhospitable crust. I am reminded constantly of ants marching across an angry ball. Even the palms, planted and trained to be grandiose, seem to be holding their green treasure achingly high above the dry yellow sand from which they sprung.



The sunsets are spectacular. The neon hues suggest that the heat of the day reached its apex and the sky burst into flame. A full spectrum rainbow results, stretching from the burning red mountains to the velvet blanket of night. For the darkness is a tangible cloak, velvet-soft and thick. The streetlights, rather than create comforting halos of light getting fainter gradually as they travel towards the stars, are trying, straining to be props holding up the heavily draped and completely present blanket of the sky.


The mountains seem deceptively close, like I could climb them at any point. Like I could abandon traffic, pull over, and strike out alone across the desert. Climb easily to the acme and admire the flat basin that is Phoenix. Just stand and look, with my barefeet gripping the dry rock, holding my earth, and become for a moment part of what I survey. Dry and bright and solid.

if the world was crazy (repost from myspace)

december 28, 2006:

the greatest of men would be silly and lazy.
so i would be king
if the world was crazy.
- shel silverstein

here are some facts about my phone:
- i got a new one
- i lost ALL of my numbers. im not joking. all of them.
- i dont answer the phone if the number doesnt come up in my caller ID
- please give me your number.

here are some facts about my feet:
- my right one hurts
- i dont know why
- i mean, seriously. for days now.
- my shoes are cute though. natch.

here are some facts about family:
- i have way more cousins than christian does. he only has two. how very un-southern of him.
- a lot of my cousins are on myspace. crazy world.
- my family judges me a lot less than i expect they will. its always a nice surprise.
- best friends are siblings you find for yourself.

here are some facts about best friends:
- they give you unsolicited advice, and it's cool.
- they give better presents than anyone else, cuz they know you best.
- having just one is like having just one sibling. it's cool. but theres nothing wrong with having two or three.
- i think i have four.

here are some facts about me:
- i dont answer the phone if i my phonebook doesnt contain the number.
- i dont clean my room unless someone is coming to see it. then i clean frantically and sloppily.
- i have three other things i should be doing right now.
- if i'm wondering about something, i will often come up with a theory to tide me over till i find out the fact. if no fact ever comes along to challenge my theory, over time, the theory becomes fact. because in my mind, i remember thinking about the problem. and i now have something i believe about it. but i cant remember if it was something i learned or something i theorized. I will then tell my theory-facts to others if they ask me about the subject.

in conclusion: im deluding the masses.

once upon a time (repost from myspace)

january 6, 2007:

worked at place that was haunted.

Tom-my-roommate has been there.

but i didnt know it was haunted til RBG came to visit me.

i scratched my name off the calendar that day. and only went back to turn in my key.

i lied about why i was quitting.

i forgot about this until recently. i dont know how it came up. but i told kyle about it. he doesnt believe in spooks.

i didnt know that i did, either. but i definitely believe that place had them.

tryin' to catch the devil's herd, across these endless skies (repost from myspace)

january 8, 2007:

This morning's sunrise was barely even about the sun. the clouds formed a solid bank spanning the horizon-third of my sky. They rose, undulating, into a softly rolling chain of Kilimanjaros; their ridges highlighted with the snow of backlit glowing sky. Off to the west of my early-morning snapshot, was a jovian cyclone, posing little threat in the still morning sky. Then, and I didn't see this coming, storming across the cadet ridges, was a herd of steaming buffalo, the likes of which would make Johnny proud. The sun began to rise and tinted the whole scene pink.

The increased heat from our flaming gas ball heated the sky and caused the wind to increase, dashing my epic scene.
So, in light of which, I went to work, and had a Monday.

i might let you off easy (repost from myspace)

february 28, 2007:

The number one thing i will take away from this job is the realization that whomever i talk to at any business in the future does not embody that organization. It is not the server's fault that my meal is poorly cooked. It was not the cashiers decision to stop carrying my favorite soup. It is not the night attendent at the gym's fault that my renewal was not yet processed. I'll take away that being mad is alright, and seeking to right wrongs is encourageable, but to not take out my inconveniences on people who work there. The girl who checks me out at walmart makes no decisions about how long after a purchase i can return it. She's just some shmoe who wants to be able to pay off her car, and maybe meet her friends for drinks.

And now for something completely different:

bringing your cell phone onto the workout floor of the gym is lame. Checking your cell phone in between reps is really lame. I mean really lame. If you do this you are lame. im sorry but it's true. except for the sorry part.
but! talking on your cellular telephone while working out transcends lameness into the highest level of hilarity. if you are this person, then i mock you mercilessly in my head and to my friends. you are the cause of unforetold mirth in all your glorious lameness, and for the countless jokes ive had at your expense: i thank you.

hope springs eternal (repost fro myspace)

march 23, 2007:

Delicate popcorn blossoms of the most tremblingly pure virgin white adorning midnight brown braches pointed straight at heaven.

The Bradford Pears are in bloom.

These trees bring back a lot of memories for me, as they lined the outdoor plaza at my high school. When the trees were in bloom, it was time to eat outside again. Almost time for spring break. Achingly close to the end of the year.

Today the slightest breeze sends a shower of tiny petals floating spinning and suddenly anywhere is a fairy glade. No longer does a black asphalt snake wind its way through my borough, but a white and yellow carpet that seems laid for Oberon's courtly procession.

More than anything, these trees are the heralds of barefoot weather. These trees say to the city: Come! Rejoice! Frolic unshod in the grassy dales! Dine al fresco! Bare your arms! Despair not! for winter is surely over and Spring is on its way!

atlanta is my lover (repost from myspace)

may 7, 2007:

Atlanta has never led me astray

Atlanta has never turned me aside


She uses my memories to paint her walls

And I brace her skyscrapers with my eyelashes


Atlanta creates stages where I am one in a crowd

And holds cracks and crevices where I am a shadow


Atlanta shields me from nothing

And freckles my face


Atlanta's formal dress is mist

She draws night about herself as a cloak

And wears the moon as her jewel


The color of Atlanta is dazzling green and charcoal

And I dress to blend in


My life is my city's camouflage.

I wander boldly down her steaming streets

And grip her hills with my bare feet


Atlanta greets me like a child

She always knew would return


I slide seamlessly into

Dew-covered leaves and

Strangers offering their hearts to strangers


Atlanta has never held me in her arms

But she offers me her lap


Inviting me to lie down

And weep if I must


Atlanta always looks up
And I will always look back.

fear (repost from myspace)

june 30, 2007:

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear... And when it is gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear is gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

with rue my heart is laden (repost from myspace)

august 5, 2007:

With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a rose-lipped maiden,
And many a lightfoot lad.

By brooks too broad for leaping
The lightfoot boys are laid;
The rose-lipt girls are sleeping
in fields where roses fade.
- A.E. Housman


The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behing the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside him in her apron
To tell them "Supper." At the word, the saw,
As if it meant to prove saws know what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap -
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all -
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man's work, though a child at heart -
He saw all was spoiled. "Don't let him cut my hand off -
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!"
So. The hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then - the watcher at his pulse took a fright.
No one believed. They listened to his heart.
Little - less - nothing! - and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
-Robert Frost


In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I waken'd was with thundring noise
And Piteous shreiks of dreadful voice;
That fearful sound of fire and fire,
Let no man know is my desire.

I, starting up the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my distress
And not to leave me succorless,
When coming out, beheld a space,
The flame consume my dwelling place.

And, when I could no longer look,
I blest His name that gave and took,
That laid my goods now in the dust;
Yea so it was, and so 'twas just.
It was His own; it was not mine
far be it that I should repine....
- Anne Bradstreet

i want life in every word (repost from myspace)

august 29, 2007:

I want everything. I want to be everything. At all times. I want to live everywhere. I want to freeze time. I want my body remain forever capable. Forever dependable. I want restful nights and stimulating days. I want city life. I want farm peace. I want downtown feet that can run in heels. I want country hands that can saddle a horse. I want to run and not be tired. I want to learn. I want to teach. I want to look and breathe all over this world. I want to be tattooed in Samoa and hennaed in India. I want to be a lounge singer in New Orleans. I want to see all of God's creation and gather it to myself. I want to play the harp. I want to hand-make thoughtful gifts. I want to excel at martial arts. I want to act. I want to dance. I want to sail. I want to sing. I want to live every moment until I die from it.

i thought you should know (repost from myspace)

august 31, 2007:

Bulletin:

yesterday morning, one Mr. Hair exploded the coffee machine.
Results: Long lunch for yours truly, due to having to trek to Target for a new machine.
Further Results: man! the old machine must have been the reason our old coffee sucked so much. because this coffee is passing tasty.

in related news, im so pumped about this weekend, i just cant even say. people who think that they're too cool for anything are so wrong. coolness is all in your mind. so get over yourself. i believe Mr. Owen taught me that. Props, Mr. Owen.

and, in conclusion, being excited is kind of decimating my already scanty attention span. as if you couldnt tell.

(ps: decimating means "to make less by one tenth." not "to destroy utterly." knowledge is power)

feels like today (repost from myspace)

sepetember 6, 2007:

Always we hope someone else has the answer.
Some other place will be better,
some other time it will all turn out.
This is it.
No one else has the answer,
no other place will be better,
and it has already turned out.
- Lau Tzu


time spent complaining is time lost. time spent on jealousy is time wasted.
and what else do we have besides time? all we have is time. and it's what we do with that time that matters. and i dont mean grand life-schemes. i mean little moments. spent in love rather than in doubt. time spent building others up, rather than making them feel sorry for you. time spent in personal peace, enjoying what you have, rather than in envy and jealousy, wanting what others can give you.

bah. and i can't say that im like that. that i move in a cloud of zen-like self-acceptance but damn! there comes a point where you have to say that yes, other grass is greener. and yes, it would be nice to have greener grass. but that the grass you have is plenty green, and furthermore it's the grass you grew yourself, so go lie down in it and watch the clouds. or better yet pack a picnic and invite your friends. no one's ever going to make you happy except yourself. accept it and strive towards it.

who said it?: Love, then do what you will......

easy places to get away to (repost from myspace)

november 8, 2007:

-Thoroughly over Las Vegas. All dry and expensive. SEMA was good this year, but I can never stay in LV longer than a week.

- Big hugs are the best. The kind you get from friends you havet seen in seven years where they sweep you off your feet.

- New job resp.. no down-time during the day. I guess this qualifies as "job" but I feel like im getting screwed. probably im just spoiled. either way, if we used to IM all day, ive not blocked you. Im just seriously that busy.

- It's suddenly very cold. I feel like autumn must have come and gone during the week i was away. which is too bad, really.

- Tom hinted I should take down the Halloween Tree. What about a thanksgiving tree?

- I'm so over this drought. All dry. and expensive eventually.

- It's too cold in my apartment for fish. If you have any correspondence for Roman or Carmello, you'll have to address it to their winter residence: Christian's.

- I am sunlight-motivated. If i get home at six and it's pitch dark out, I dont want to do ... anything. All i want is a heater and a blanket and some textile work and some cartoons to watch. Or some sort of Good Eats or Iron Chef marathon or a crummy movie.

- My ears = 8ga. now. It hurts less as you go. thank goodness!

romeo? i think i used to have a scene with him (repost from myspace)

march 16, 2008:

I’m worried that I’m starting to forget. Or, more accurately, worried that I’m not starting to forget... but that I’ve been forgetting all along and I’ve just now started to notice.
When I was in, say, middle school, I assumed that I would never be like my parents. And my very sound reason behind this assumption was that I would never forget what it was like to be that age. That I would always remember my emotions and my view-points and that this would keep me young. That this would keep me from being unseeing or un-understanding. And to an extent.. yes, I still remember. But what I remember now are events; large life-changing, world-shattering events. Things that have shaped who I am today. Things that tore up how I thought about my world and made me realize that East Cobb was not life. That there was more, infinitely more, to the world than what I had yet experienced, and made me yearn for the future.
But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about day-to-day. People I saw. Things I thought without knowing I thought them. And I can’t even say exactly what it is... but I know it’s gone.
Every now and again I’ll come across something... a photograph or a quote and .... It doesn’t bring back memories in a violent jolt. Because a violent jolt would indicate something I knew I had lost, and was seeking to get back. Instead this photo, say, will just make me smile ruefully and say to myself "oh, that’s right... that was me. I suppose I had forgotten."
So at this point I can sit down, and try to think. And come up with items that are likely to be lost. Times that were unimportant but at the same time very important that were on the verge of being lost. But what about the times that are gone forever? The people I see in restaurants now whom I used to see everyday and whose names I just don’t know. Ah, Lord, it breaks my heart. And I don’t even know why.
It’s not even that I might need these memories at any point. Much more likely that it simply means I’m growing up. I’m replacing, not my fourth-grade crush’s name, but... the rest of the class’s names.... with.. I don’t know... with html. With vinyl grains. With the sound an engine makes when it wants to down-shift. Replacing things I don’t need with things I possibly do.
Why is that sad to me?
I’m probably just afraid of growing up. I’ve always tried to look around and say "Ah, yes, youth. I need to enjoy this, because I only get one." But you can’t actually make yourself cherish something more that you might naturally do. Probably because you can’t long to replay a moment that’s currently happening. And you won’t know how important something will be to you until you can compare it againts other instances in your life.
So, to all the people I’ve forgotten: I am so sorry. Deeply, desperately sorry. You are important and you are special and you’re out there, forgetting me, and I guess that’s beautiful in it’s own way.
And to the little past Mes that I’m forgetting every moment: Thank you. Apparently I do have to grow up. But if I have to, at least I get to be a grown-up version of you.