8:50 p.m.||||2001-11-20
All right. As some of you know...I am leaving tomorrow for Las Vegas. I'm doing fine so far, although I have consumed some beer. As I told D, I'm going to try to enjoy this count-down. I have packing - all of it - to do, although I have made lists and prioritized and so the rest of it is mindless follow-through. I am thrilled, however, because I am leaving on a strong mental note...I have been thinking about a lot this past week, I've made several reaches out to others whom I like and been satisfied with my own attempt, not to mention the response I got. I wish I could visit worldgurl, while I'm in Las Vegas...although I won't be in the same state...I'll be close.
It would be best to think of this entry as a gallery.
In case I don't return, you will have these fond photos to remember me by.
1. When I was 18, my b-friend told me that my teeth - when seen from the profile - look like the alien's teeth in Alien. I have liked very few smiling or profile shots since then. I love my smile in this...I look benevolent, rather than hungry.
2. Do I not look like something Botticelli (sp?) would do if he lived today? Ha, ha. With soft lights and firm thoughts I proceed.
3. I like this photo because it proved to me that my post-pregnancy ass does not look fat. Also, I feel so glam applying lip-shit...this almost never happens.
4. Mmmmmmm.
My computer is choking because I have loaded it up with almost a thousand pictures and I'm tryin' to play Poor Righteous Teachers' "New World Order" at the same time I upload into Shutterflake. I need like a thousand volts, umm, I mean, a billion 1's and 0's, no, I mean a cable connection. I mean modem.
Below is a most ridulous, badly taken photo. I display it here in order to demonstrate my new, ass-kicking pants, given to D by his uncle for the purpose of work. They are too small for him and enormous on me, require a belt, and just generally set me back a few, fashion-wise. But, they are Dickies, dude! And they are soooo comfortable.
Now, the poster requires an explanation. I cannot stand SPIN. Gimme a motherfuckin break. I know you want the true skivvie: you need to be broader than those moguls, SPIN and ROLLING STONE to get it. I mean, they have their place - yeah, like in my ASS - but it's all the same up and up you can see any-fucking-where. Sometimes I am surprised by what I find in these mags...mostly, yawn...SO. Why I got a poster from spin on my wall? Because, although I am above all idol worship, I think it's a good idea to commemorate Kurt, even if it is a stupid SPIN inset. I wouldn't seek it out otherwise (commemoration) but it was there, an accident.
Where were you when Kurt died? Don't say highschool. O.K. Realistically, half my friends were in hs then, including my bf. Anyway, my second year in college, Bleach changed my life. It did. I wanted to be an 18 year old boy....ha! D - now DAVE! - just told me that he was coming home from a high school track meet. I was in a new apartment - an attic apt - across the alley from the apartment I had just left, where I'd lived with my newly-ex-boyfriend. I was painting the walls of the hallway, listening to a Detroit radio station when the d.j. announced that an as yet un-identified white male body had been discovered in the house of one Kurt Cobain. Now listen. I'm too old to be part of the post-death love club of same said Kurt. I only knew at the time that he was a genius of types, for so long indie and unknown - I remember the DEAL, I remember how it came about that the teen world fell in love with him...what I'm saying is I watched him/Nirvana GROW UP! They played to ten people in my town, where my own stupid band played. Hey, the Jesus Lizard also played that same bar - why does that bar have to suck so much now? Anyway....not exactly representative of my hip-hop listening ass now, that band has its place always...in my heart.
That's my man, tall like a glassa wattah.
I have to include this out of its sheer silliness. This is me and Julio down by the schoolyard.
So there it is - this month in pics. It's a good thing I don't have a web-cam. This gets outta hand QUICK. I am always surprised to find I am not as ugly as I think. When I see my self on videotape I feel like it's an opportunity to really see my mannerisms, what I really do - out there in the cold world. You might not believe me but I never look in the mirror unless it's absolutely necessary.
I'm listening to BAD RELIGION - "Against the Grain".
And I HAVE to pack, like right now, so I wish you all the best Thanksgiving, don't think of the Indians when you give thanks, or think about this tradition. I pray that we are all aware of our blessings just now, however they happen to manifest themselves. xox k
It is 2:35 a.m. and I leave in an hour. I am prepared, however, I have been steadily drinking since 8. I'm not drunk, just...prepared. So here are some more photos of mine self looking sweet and marme-like in my newly dyed hair, and hair clips. How I love them/them me. The only reason I grow my hair out is to see what configurations I can make with the strands....I have nappy, afro-irish hair. Don't be offended...I have often wondered what my real heritage is, that my hair should be SO wiry. I have the perfect hair for dreads. Anyway, below you shall see my real cuteness.
That last pick is a doozy - I might post it twice just to show how fucking funny I look in the blue light, blue light ba-bee. All the truly dumb-ass photos are me - not figuring out how to work the time release (it's picky).
Bwah ha ha I eat lil children as a hobby, mwhah ha ha. If I were my son I would be frightened by the mere witchiness of my visage - unfortunately I am sweet as molasses.
Oh..and by the way - HERE:
I am 38% ADDICTED TO THE INTERNET.I could go either way. Deep into the madness of nights filled with coding CGI-Scripts and online role playing games, or I could become a normal user. Good luck!
Take the INTERNET-ADDICT Test at Fuali.com!