Men

I am extremely obsessive. I hate it. 

I get all fucked up in the head over a boy,

a new one everytime, everyear.

This time it's someone I think is actually worth 

something.

I'm not sure what really.

Is it only the fact that he's handsome?

No, it's the fact that he touched me,

no, not that either. It's the way he touched me,

and the way he looked at me, the silly things he'd say.

God, why do I love that boy?

I don't know. I really do not know.

For the life of me, I would forget, forgive, release

it all, if I could, I would.

But I can't. For a long time I wouldn't.

But now I just can't. 

And no amount of songwriting will make it better.

In fact, today I realized it actually makes it worse.

I wonder what he'd think if he knew.

He probably wouldn't give a shit.

If I could just find a good boy to love and like 

and write real love songs about,

ones that last, ones that don't make you feel

fucking sad, lonely, depressed.

Seriously, what the fuck am I gonna do when 

I'm not like this?

What the fuck am I gonna write about? Really?

Like Henry Chinaski. Maybe that's why he did all 

them whores. So he'd have something to write about.

Cuz all the good stuff ain't worth writing about.

Nobody wants to read that shit.

Of course everything I just said is bullshit.

I know it ain't true. I know it's not true.

I'm gonna do the November novel writing challenge this month.

I'm pretty excited about it.

I think I will write a novel about my stupid (non-existent) love affairs.

Yes, that is what i will do. 

I mean, that's pretty much what Chinaski/Bukowski did.

I'll call it Men.

Perfect.

And perhaps an occasional female.

Ok. Perfect.

Then it can be gay, and I can be queer. 

Yay.

Maybe I'll even have sex with a gay man in it.

Yes! that would be so fucking hot!

 

Best Friends Forever

so this girl

man, this little girl

and she was little

all skinny, small, stick-thin-slender

and so spastic, I was in love at the first

scream and holler and rock-your-body-back-and-forth

movement of her tiny hips and big mouth full of beautiful perfect teeth

and the symmetry of yelps between her and her best friend forever

who played the bass. 

I was in shock, in love, in awe

and sooooooo happy!

omg. do they know how happy-making they are?

I was jealous, jealous to be them. 

Like that one day when Ish and I were riding through the town 

on a cruiser and a tall bike. We were the shit. We were the envy

of everyone. 

Tonight I wanted her, wanted not so much to be her,

but to be as authentic. I was like, whoa, where did this girl come from?

where did she come from?  

She came from Minneapolis!

Yes! The good ol'e Mid West!

woot woot.

anyway, I have big plans to ride to Tacoma tomorrow so I should sign off.

many things going on in my head, but then that is always the case.

Love,

Anna

Sip-ins and Vonnegut

Tonight I went to a Sip-and-Read.  I had just finished Critical Mass and was at the Essential Baking Co.'s dumpsters when I got a message from Mindy, this girl I barely know through Abba. She randomly called me on a whim because she was having this Sip-in. It was so awesome. 

I was geeked. No, seriously geeked.  I arrived to the "Latona Zoo", aka, the hippy house with rabbits and chickens penned in the front. I hitched my bike on the porch and Jake, a friendly bearded man came out to greet me. He is so kind and warm. I like him. And he is funny, and his girlfriend is hilarious. 

There were pillows strewn all over the floor and a table of wine and appetizers in the other room.

Then, at last, we all gathered in the pillowed room to read to each other. Everyone put a book they had brought into the center of the room. The closest person to the pile picked a book and the person whose book it was would read the passage they had picked. We went like this for over two and a half hours!  I was ecstatic, laying beneath the Christmas tree and gazing contently and distractedly through the lights and ornaments hanging just above my face. I couldn't be more happy. The peace pipe was passed around the room several times as was a very large jug of wine. Oh, it was so good.

I urged them to do this more, to have Sip-and-Read's regularly. But Mindy mentioned that it makes it more special, to have only one in a year. I can see that, but they should definitely have more! I need it! 

And wait till I tell Jaden who I saw tonight. She'll flip. 

Danielle and Ross from June Madrona. But it was totally cool, they were really nice. I mean, of course they were, I know nothing about them, they know nothing about me. Jaden's views always color my perceptions a bit, whenever any of my friends say things about other people, I take it in, even without meaning to. 

But I really like Danielle, I think she's quality. And so beautiful. 

And Mindy, she is rad. And Jake, so friendly!

I like these people!

I invited Brittian, Brian, and Alex cuz they were with me when she called. They showed up late, and it was really awkward, Brittian standing in the doorway while this girl finished this really long story about Potato Babies, that was an awesome story. 

So much good stuff. 

Sherman Alexie, A Feminist Critical Theory about Meat eating.  Bambi, climbing trees, Joseph Smith, Kurt Vonnegut (my choice). 

Jake read from his journal. That was one of my favorites. He told a story of when he went to protest the war just this last September. It was so intense, veterans and mothers of soldiers that died, crossing the police lines and getting thrown to the ground, tear gassed. Sick shit. 

Brittian is such a dork. He was trying to cuddle with me for most of the time he was there. And then he said all this stupid shit about how he was always gonna have a crush on me. And I said, Yeah, cuz I'm never gonna make out with you. He's like, Yeah, I know. Always keep it that way, then I'll always have a crush on you. 

I realized, and I know I belabor this issue/problem in my life, but you know how I'm always complaining about not having a boy/relationship?  Well, I have plenty of admirers. I just don't think about it that way. There are plenty of very attractive people even, that like me, but nobody that really gets me. The people I like don't like me. And I wonder if that's why I like them. So I can feel this rejection, lack, longing. 

Brittian does the same thing. That's why he likes me. That's why I don't like him. 

But I like the attention. But it's funny, because I can actually control myself with him, which is something different for me. Usually I burn. 

I think I'm truly changing, mid-20's now, going through a different phase. I get annoyed with younger kids who tell me to shut up about it. I'm like excuse me, you don't know. Why can't they just listen and nod? I'm not asking for them to validate me. I'm simply expressing what I'm thinking, and how I'm feeling. And I'm thinking a lot about getting/being old. It's weird. It's depressing. I'm not really sure why.

I talked to my counselor about this a long time ago. I see this older woman, old, grey hair, fatter, maybe a little boring, alone, rides a bike, lives in Seattle. Boring. I don't like her. And I'm terrified to be her. Reminds me a little bit of my Aunt Barb. I love her, but I could always see the loneliness, the desperation to have someone, to be with someone, to finally have a husband. Slightly neurotic, deeply religious. I believe that is why she is still single. Too damn Christian. So she adopted a girl from Russia, and now she's not alone. I think it's the best thing she could do. Hopefully Rebekah doesn't resent the religious fervor (fanaticism). 

Here I am, a sinner far from Jesus, reading wine, sipping books, smoking hookah. Doesn't that sound good?  I bet Jesus wishes he could come to my party, but the religious people won't let him, they locked him up in their little warehouse of a community center in the middle of an asphalt hell of a parking lot. He keeps banging on the closet door to be let out, but they've been holding him hostage for decades if not centuries. I hate those motherfuckers. 

I like Jesus, I've finally decided, after this long hiatus. And as Vonnegut says, If what he said is good, and so much of it is absolutely beautiful, what does it matter if he was God or not?

I don't care anymore. I don't give a fuck.

I really don't.

It makes no difference to me whatsoever if my imaginary friend is really a god or not.

He's a nice guy and I kinda like him. We like to write music together, I like to write music about him sometimes, I used to like to sing to him, or with him, and he liked to dance with me an awful lot. Those were good times. 

But now I'm older. I have left childish ways behind me. Well, not really, it just sounded good.

Gosh this is long.

Goodnight 

That's life, it's oh so short. 

I'm sorry, I can't help it, I have to singalongtothemusic.

I'm so effin tired. 

I shouldn't even publish this.

And I need to quit eating bread.

Yesterday was a good day, and to think of it, this whole damn week was great.

I mean, I was depressed and anxious, but that was stupid and uncalled for.

I had some very life-enriching days.

I think I mentioned them in the last post.

Friday night I hung out with Katie and some friends, and then I went over to the Rendezvous to see my coworker Nate play his final show with One Million Teeth.

It was exciting to say the least. He is definitely crazy, this is confirmation.

But then he's a performer, keeping it under wraps, letting it out on stage. Well, most of the time. Like tonight, just before I left, he made this sound exactly like a horse neighing. It was insanity! I was laughing hysterically.

Anyway, so I just pulled my vegan bread pudding out of the oven and I ate some.

There's a potluck tomorrow at work. Don't feel sorry for me. I am making bank, bagging. 

It's sick.

So I say sick all the time now. I'm not sure when it started. Probably that girl, Liz. I refused to say it, and I fancied myself with a crush on her. But then I decided emphatically that she is a bitch and I don't want that. So now I say sick, all the sick fucking time.

Does that work?

Ani. I like her now, too.

You tell me about a band, chances are I won't listen to them until about two years have passed. And then I will "discover" them one day and fall head over heels for them. It always goes that way. It has to be my idea, I guess.

Nothing good to say here. I think it has to be this way for at least the first three to five posts, and then I get comfortable, the blogs get easier, smoother, like talking.

We are not yet acquaintances

 

Good Woman

Right now I am in love, in love with Cat Power.

I want to be a good woman, too.

I want to love and be loved.

I'd like to think I am ready. 

I'm probably not, but oh well. Gotta start sometime.

I had a very good, full three days off. It was weird. My vacation of sorts after a long quarter.

And, as usual, it turned out much much better than I expected. 

I don't want to be a bad woman.

I got -A's in all four classes. Yeah, so I'm bragging.

She makes me wanna cry, she's so beautiful.

I read Blankets yesterday in one sitting. By Craig Thompson.

He knows, he knows exactly how it is. I need to write him a letter. He's got my number, he's got it down spot on. I couldn't tell it any better, all the Christianity bullshit, all the sexual repression, all the shame and guilt.

I just got off the phone with Jaden. We have been friends for two years now. We know each other now. We don't judge so much anymore. It is good.

I will miss your heart so tender, and I will love this love forever.