My balls and my word

Sun, 21 Dec 2008 03:16:48 GMT

oh.

i'm leaving.

it's been swell.

happy new year!

[If I Were a Good Writer]

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 01:54:10 GMT

If I were a good writer, I could describe the beautiful experiences of my life, & not just the horrible ones. I could describe them effectively, without the literary squeals of an eight-year-old, & without the apprehension of a seasoned woman who knows what comes next. I could take you there, where you would see, hear, feel, taste everything.

If I were a good writer, I could describe driving north on George Washington Parkway at 10 on a cool morning. Vivaldi proclaiming life, love, Spring out of the windows. I could adequately relate what the smooth drive makes me feel: the stark shade, the sun peeking through the trees, the smooth ride of my Oldsmobile as it hugs the curves like a man's hands caressing my shoulders, waist, hips. The way all other cars disappear from view, physically & mentally.

If I were a good writer, I could describe how beautiful the scenery is, even at 75mph. How my eyes never miss a detail, how my chest jumps playfully, lovingly at every flicker of light. How the trip handles itself, as all the turns, stretches, surprises are known already, instinctively. Everything comes natural, & at that moment everything, even me, is elegant.

If I were a good writer, I could describe all of this, & make you feel the breeze, the tranquility, the movements of my vehicle & soul orchestrated by the music. No memories, no expectations, nothing except enchantment for a moment as long as the road. The dream ends abruptly at the end of the Parkway where the traffic spits out into civilization: the gritty, bustling, wicked Beltway.

If I were a good writer, the end wouldn't matter. In fact, it wouldn't even exist.

If I were a good writer, you'd be there in the car with me tomorrow morning sharing the experience.

If only I were a good writer ...

[Sonny vs Michael]

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 05:54:26 GMT

I've been watching the Godfather III today. I got the trilogy on DVD but haven't watched it yet, III is on television today. During this, I had a revelation of Biblical proportions. These two forces inside me, that lead me to either be a passionate, melodramatic racehorse or a calm, calculative businessman are not unlike Sonny & Michael.

I pride myself on never in my life having been like Connie the fucking snake or Fredo the fucking retard. There are many in the family that already populate these categories. Throughout my life I've mostly been like Sonny. I'm impulsive with a hell of a temper. I'm passionate & impratical. But I can be the life of the party & make curly hair.

I never was like Michael. I'm sure I had it in me, but I never felt the need to be calculating, pragmatic & intuitive. Michael observes, then acts. He has bursts of anger, but they do not last very long ('WHERE MY WIFE SLEEPS! Where my children play with their toys ..). It came out all of a sudden, without warning, without contemplation.

I had to be Michael when my mom died. I had to swallow everything but pride & steer the family into doing what I know my mother would do. I handled everything like a Godfather. I held family meetings, everything went smoothly, & when it didn't, I had someone else take care of it for me. It seems that when my mother left this world she left me with her gift. All the advice she ever gave me on how to handle things turned right into practice ('Never let anyone know what you're thinking').

Sonny died almost completely soon after that. What a wild quarter of a century, I must say. But then Sonny got murdered in broad daylight. The worst week of my entire life left me cold & beaten. & we all know that When Sonny dies, Michael takes over. Sonny made a last appearance sometime in September, then I went on a slow, painful road that led to Michael again. I was on a roll there, for a while.

But even Michael gets weak. Michael makes wrong moves like any other human ('Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in'). The world becomes a beautiful but dangerous display of golds & reds. & when that happens, Sonny takes over, or rather, Vinnie (which is really a cinematic reincarnation of Sonny as we all know, or should). Whatever Sonny/Vinnie has wanted to do for a long time, that's been laying around in the back of my mind, gets done. I fuck things up for myself. I get happy. I fall in love. But when I crumble, Michael takes over again. Only in me, Michael doesn't need to think too much, or rather, doesn't show any thinking. Sonny/Vinnie thinks a hell of a lot, always out loud & for the wrong people to hear.

Michael will show up any day now, I hope ...

I find myself wondering if they'll ever come head to head, & if they do, who will win. It's a sick affair between two ways of feeling that have every right to be there considering the soul they occupy. It's even more sick that I can sit here calmly writing about a struggle I have inside myself that could potentially lead to my complete downfall or complete takeover of the Universe.

No matter which one wins, though, I can guarantee dramatics, sharp clothing & beautiful lighting on the right occasions. I suppose I am a walking trilogy in the classical sense, really. Not the contemporary sense that has bastardised the meaning of the word, not unlike what they have done to 'diva' as well. But I'm not there ... yet.

Wait for iiiit ...

[Weary Contemplations]

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 10:30:12 GMT

Sick again.

One time when I was a kid, I was rushed to the emergency room. Whatever was wrong with me I don't remember, maybe flu or stomach virus, but what I do remember is their discovery of the fact that I was extremely dehydrated (to this day I am very prone to dehydration). The nurse commenced to fill me full of holes on attempting to give me an IV. She tried my arm a few times, then claimed my veins were too weak. She then tried the back of my hand a few times as well, somehow took out three viles of blood, then said she had went through the vein so she would have to try again. It hurt being stabbed with the needle over & over, & I was crying.

Up until this point, I had never been afraid of needles. As soon as I could walk, I was strutting into the rooms on vaccination days, sitting down & saying, 'Hit me, sweetheart'. Proving my siblings to be mere peasants was more important than whatever some tiny needle could do to me. I didn't even need the lollipop. 'Give it to the big kids, honey, they need it more than I.' But ever since that day, I've been pretty apprehensive. I can't look. I rather not even think about it. I get nervous, people tell me it's alright, I become suspicious, look away, & it ends up being quick & painless. But that irrational fear didn't show up until this nurse fucked up royally.

My mother appeared out of nowhere (I'm not at all sure where she had gone) & demanded the nurse to stop. The nurse said that I was in dire need of an IV, & my mother told her that no one but a doctor would touch me. The nurse explained that it was the middle of the night & not many were around, but my mother knew the hospital very well & knew where they were, & demanded that the nurse call them. A doctor came in no time, & after reassurance from my mom that this lady was not like the evil lady at all, I said alright. Quick & painless.

I think of this every time I'm sick, like right now. I have this thing that comes every once in a while, but I have no clue what it is. It first happened Summer '06, then Summer '07, then Winter '08. Now it's back. It's a pain in my stomach that starts with discomfort all around my abdomen, even my back. Then eventually, I'll feel a stabbing pain in my stomach. When I first went to the emergency room in Sevilla, they misdiagnosed me, which I found out a year later at the pharmacy. I haven't had money to go to the hospital here, but I've found ways to stave off the worst of it. So here I sit, unable to sleep, wondering when the pain is going to go away.

I also think of this story whenever something outside of myself is giving me trouble. My mother had this knack of swooping in & saving the day, or demanding that someone else save the day. Either way, she would get it done. I miss that. I've needed her a lot lately, especially within the last two years. Sometimes she comes to me in dreams, but sometimes I have to think really hard about what she would do in the situation. I know she's with me & that makes me feel a lot better.

But sometimes I need more. Sometimes I just can't take it, whatever it is. Sometimes everything comes at once. Sometimes I have no fucking clue what to do to make my situation better. Sometimes I'm absolutely helpless. Sometimes I just sit & wait for my own Special Agent Seely Booth to swoop down & save me. I usually just end up chain-smoking until I get tired, then take a nap, & try to start all over again.

Some things I just can't solve by myself, & I'm usually by myself, which makes for a horrible situation. But my legs just keep on moving, attempting to strut again or just searching for a crossroads ...

Art & Stability.

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 04:20:11 GMT

A conversation between my father & myself:

VR: Are there any young, handsome Pettys?
MD: (Shakes his head.) I don't know.
VR: You'd be pretty disappointed if I married a Petty, wouldn't you?
MD: (Shakes his head.) He'd probably be really unstable when he isn't driving.

It started out with me thinking it would be extremely cool for me to marry a young man from NASCAR royalty (& from my father's home state, no less), & it ended in a revelation. I started to argue that it wasn't true, that could be said for just about anyone with a profession. But then it hit me. When you have something in you, a talent, a gift, a passion, you probably are unstable when you don't satisfy that talent/gift/passion. I know I am.

I noticed that my downs come when I haven't drawn for a while. During June, I took a portfolio development class, & was highly elated every time I was doing homework for the class. When I waited until the last minute to do the work, I was already feeling a bit pissy. When I was in class, I was nervous & antsy when introduced to something new, but after finishing the projects I would feel relieved. Then when I left & came back a week later, I was truely amazed at what I had done & I wanted to do more.

When I was in Spain & dirt poor, living on one 1-euro sandwich a day, & spending all my money on materials for my art show there, & painting instead of paying bills on time, I felt good still. If I got really hungry I could just sit with my neighbour for a while & she'd eventually feed me. I was living the life. I would go to the bar & sketch for hours & talk to Pepe, the bartender son, or his parents, who owned the bar. It was hot as an oven outside, but it didn't matter. My landlord was on my ass but it didn't matter. Nothing did: I was creating.

When I remember back to those times when I've been most low, I can remember not having energy or motivation or even a desire to draw. But I've since learned that motivation for everything else comes from art for me. If I just sketch on a napkin (I used to do this a lot when I was a kid) I feel a bit better. If I just have enough energy to pick up a pencil, pen, crayon, anything, I can turn things around for myself. Sure, it's not magic, it can't solve my problems, but how I feel has a lot to do with how things go for me that day. It has a lot to do with if I will let little things get to me, or even big things.

It doesn't have to be something I want to show to people. It doesn't have to be a masterpiece. It just has to be something, & then I'm on the right track. Even having an idea to draw & not drawing it bogs me down. I might not have enough time for composition studies & toning paper all the time, but I definitely always have time & opportunity to doodle.

I'm an extremely unstable person by nature. But I do believe I've been given something that can change that, that has changed that in the past. My last 'independent' drawings were done during a period where I just didn't feel right about something, but I took the time out to do them, & even though it didn't solve anything, I felt a lot better. Drawing allows me to think, or not, when I most need it.

& now I know I need to do that more, no matter what it is, just put something on paper. I rather it be amazing work, but no matter what it is, I just need it to be. & I'm at least going to try. I know the inspiration will come, eventually, but even when it's not there, or the strength, or the motivation, or the energy, if I just start, it'll come.

As it always does.

Eventually.

:D

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 11:49:47 GMT

What NASCAR driver are YOU???

Dale Earnhardt Jr.
You are pretty much the COOLEST person known to man, and you have great taste in just about everything. If you won this by accident, such as people named Bill, then you should leave this page right now because you dont deserve to even read this.

Cars-Driving-Racing Quizzes

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 22:18:39 GMT

I wanna be a robot when I grow up.

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 22:08:46 GMT

1. What's your weather?

It's about 100 degrees F & very humid right now.

2. Where are you on your way to?

Bed.

3. Are you good with directions?

If they are correct, then yes.

4. Do you know your neighbors?

No.

5. What do you smell?

A breakdown coming on.

Fri, 30 May 2008 23:27:58 GMT

Ahhh...wisdom and love should never be aligned into the same breath
-Emrah Darling

Sat, 24 May 2008 22:44:02 GMT

1. Last laugh?

This morning while watching Los Hombres de Paco.

2. What do you love?

My new anatomy colouring book.

3. Gold or silver?

Cash, buddy.

4. Who do you hold hands with?

I've never held hands with anyone.

5. Friday fill-in:
There's no time to freak out.

Thu, 22 May 2008 06:32:58 GMT

Amar en soledad es como un pozo sin fondo donde no existe ni Dios, donde no existen verdades.
-Alejandro Sanz

Sun, 18 May 2008 21:05:15 GMT

We just won 4-1 against Athletic de Bilbao. We're in UEFA for next year, cos of our goal average we're not in Champions. But we went through so much this year. Puerta RIP. The bitch ass traitor leaving us to fend for ourselves. Manolo trying his best, coming through, & still being insulted at the last goleada (makes absolutely no sense). But we got through. We're still amazing.

The season is over. I feel free. I only missed one match, which ended 0-0. I can sleep now, I can relax on the weekends, I won't be flexing my eyebrow muscles trying to figure things out about football anymore.

Until August.

Now is Eurocup, which Palop will be in, but probably not in unless Casillas breaks his face.

Go Spain.

Sun, 18 May 2008 21:00:39 GMT

KASEY KAHNE WINS THE ALL-STAR NASCAR RACE IN NC

During the pre-All-Star race to see who would get into the All-Star race, No.10 was taken out, then ELLIOT SADLER WAS TAKEN OUT & I WAS MAD. HE'S MY FAVOURITE. YOU DON'T DO THAT, ESPECIALLY NOT ON PURPOSE. LOSER. Then Kasey didn't win, so my team was entirely out.

BUT THEN. Kasey is in by fan votes, & GOES ALL THE WAY. FIRST ALL-STAR WIN BY THE FAN VOTE CAR. EXCITING. BUDWEISER BEING THROWN ALL OVER THE PLACE. BOYS IN RED SUITS CELEBRATING. WOO. He did really well, & during the last mandatory pit road stop, Evernham said no no, just stop then go go go go. No changes at all, & that's what won, really. A super surprising decision, which was really the most logical.

WOO!

What I'm Listening To

Sun, 18 May 2008 15:52:20 GMT

I used to listen to this on repeat whenever I wanted out of my neighbourhood in Sevilla. It's about a neighbourhood where you feel trapped & you go out to bars & talk about things you'll never have, then at the end you decide to stay cos it's your place. I really wish I had handcuffed myself to a wall there.

I love this band. They make me want to dress like that again. They take showers & stuff, so it's okay. The singer was a football player til he got injured a long time ago which makes me question his age, he looks so young. Another boy in the band was a football player too. I want those socks.

The song is the theme song for Los Hombres de Paco, one of my favourite tv shows ever. I missed a lot of episodes while Sevilla FC was playing UEFA, cos it comes on Wednesdays. Then I left. So I've been downloading all of them, I'm currently on the 3rd season. The band is on the show a lot.

This is another one of their songs, which is highly featured on the show, cos it's Lucas & Sara's song. It's about loving someone but knowing they won't be there, won't call, & you want to get your life together so you're gonna do that, & maybe you'll see them someday, when both of you are in better places. & maybe then they'll realise what they gave up & want it again. .

I can relate. But I don't have as much hope as this kid right now. Maybe I should just wait for my Aitor, cos my Lucas isn't too smart & I'm impatient. Two years 'til Madagascar is a long time.

& OMG those socks. I love Spanish pop punk done by clean boys. It's so cute. & all sincere & stuff.

Sat, 17 May 2008 21:36:21 GMT

It was almost like talking to Doc again.

At work we call people who have been referred to us by people who worked on the project last year. I called a man who was listed after not finding his name in the system, only to find he was indeed in the system, that another person referred him, & that his name was spelled wrong on the sheet I had. He made a joke about Latin which I caught onto early, & by the time I got to 'well, it's Latin, like syllabi' he was already amazed. We ended up talking for nearly half an hour.

From Latin we went to Catholicism, cos he had studied to be a priest in the 60s, right when Vatican II was happening. I ended up mentioning how I wanted to read St. Augustine's Confessions, but only found abridgements & why would I want to read an abridgement. He understood. He asked if I had any Catholic teaching to make me the way I am, I said no, but that my mother was raised in the Jesuit system & that I come from Opus Dei stock. This impressed him. I said that if Opus Dei were on my CV, it would be remarkable & would probably open up some doors for me. He got the half-joke. From there we went on to talk about the Jesuits in general, I mentioned that I was more interested in the Spanish saints like Ignacio de Loyola & Francisco Javier, & he applauded this. We both agreed that the Dominicans are not as cool as the Jesuits, but that the Franciscans are another awesome breed altogether.

Then he expressed his ideas about feminism within the Church, & I had to burst his bubble, revealing that in some senses I am very traditional. I really think Vatican II is for the birds, give me cassocks & Latin. When I told him that think that female priests would be like women on the front lines, very distracting, he agreed, but gave me the opposite scenario, & then we talked about the nature of men & women. We talked about people's idea of God, he said the idea of God was more motherly than fatherly, & I mentioned that it all depended on your view of God, because if God is stern, or a punishing God, then that would probably be more manly, like sinners in the hands of an angry God & such.

He was basically amazed at my knowledge & my conviction, & said that if there were more Catholic women like me, the Church would be so much better. He told me that RCIA was indeed the programme I would have to go through to be confirmed & have my first communion (I wasn't sure if this was what I had to take). I asked him if RCIA teachers are cool, if I could ask all the questions I wanted, & he said any catechism teacher who does not answer all my questions & applaud my skepticism is not worthy of the Church.

It was a fulfilling conversation. It was extremely strange to have a completely objective adult encourage me & applaud me, mostly because even the subjective adults in my life have only told me that I am intelligent, & that's not encouraging at all, cos I don't really think I am. I have so much to do, such a long road ahead of me, & this conversation with this gentleman really helped me see that I was on the right road. It's been so long since I've had a wonderfully smart conversation where the other person actually listened to what I had to say & asked me questions just as much as taught me things from their perspective. (My mother & Doc have really been the only elders who I could have these conversations with, & I really miss that, cos achieving this with peers is very very very very very rare & I usually must settle for less.)

Eventually, cos I knew the boss was in the office that day, I asked for help from J to get me off the phone, & eventually it worked. I really didn't want to get off the phone, but I knew I had to. But the time I was on the phone marked me, I don't really know how to explain it.

Thumbs up.

Tue, 13 May 2008 23:06:25 GMT

MY DESK @ WORK!!!!!!!11!!!!!1

What?

I've never had a desk before.

This one is temporary, even. But, I will enjoy it while it lasts. Basically, since it's just me & another girl working on the project right now, we were thrown into a little office that's just big enough for the two of us. We like it there, cos we have freedom & a dry erase board. We'll be in there as long as we have some work to do, so we are going slowly, but not slow enough to make our boss notice anything. It's so fun. Whenever the boss comes in I try to ask her more questions so she talks to us more, so we don't have to work as much. She will never catch on, cos my questions are amazing.

I got my new desk phone today, & we got a lockable filing cabinet. We even got keys to the office! They hang from our work IDs.

The social part of work has been going good so far. I get along really great with my colleague, who I'll call J from now on. We're both smokers, so we bond during breaks. There is a little smoking gazebo in back of the building, that I MUST make a short film about. We are all amazingly chaotic disturbed characters in there. A girl talked to me for 20 minutes about books I will never read, just cos I asked her what book she was reading (that one is actually interesting) & I also asked her if Lennie dies in Of Mice and Men which I am struggling through right now. Then I talked cars with this guy, & everyone is always talking about the geese that roam the property. It's great out there, & since we sorta regulate all our own breaks, we've been spending maybe too much time there. But we have to take advantage while we can, I think.

There are even rumours about a violin guy, who plays during lunch time, sometimes by the water, sometimes in the stair well!! I MUST FIND HIM & REQUEST VIVALDI!!!1 Supposedly he isn't very friendly & doesn't talk to people, & that is the best thing ever. & there is also a ukelele guy in the mail room! OMG. ROY SMECK, PLEASE!! I must hunt these characters down within two weeks. If I find them I will be so happy!

Well, I'm ready for work.

Sun, 11 May 2008 20:48:52 GMT

It's DISGUSTING.

A sleek black business-casual purse that fits my wallet, passport, mobile phone, my religious relics, 3 Steinbeck books (which also means one paperback later on), cigarettes, keys, make-up baggie, iPod, sketchbook, moleskine, pens, high-lighters, & the new pink leather planner I bought today (adorned with my own Wonder Woman sticker inside). It also has room for a bit more, too, like if I ever find my maruja change purse.

It's all so neat. The important stuff in the back, next to my body, the keys & mobile phone in front for easy access. It all seems to fit, no matter what else I remember I need.

I'm also the best-dressed person in the office. Well, at least the office I did the skills test at. I shone in the sun during the fire drill, with my cute black Beatles-shoes-for-girls heels, red shirt, sleek black pants & my perfect black curls. I wonder how the call center people will be dressed. Hopefully they'll be dumpy, cos I don't have a lot of choices for this week until I get paid. I just have two pairs of pants, & three or four shirts to choose from right now. But when I get my amazingly hugest ever paycheck on Friday, I'll save money for art class next month, then go shopping with the rest.

I did quite well on the skills test, they said. I got 100% on the matching & filing parts, then 72% on the computer skills part, since they kept asking for Excel formulas I had no clue about. I forgot the score for data entry, but I only made 14 errors throughout the entire thing & they said that was super. As soon as I pressed the button to print the results, though, the fire alarm went off, & I had to stand out in the sun for fifteen minutes or so. That's when I saw how everyone was dressed.

The best thing ever was that after they told me I had the job, & I agreed to a pre-job job for three weeks, I walked out of there like I owned the place. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, God reminded me how I'm not hot shit, & my rear-view mirror falls off. I had to drive to the gas station (took a wrong turn, of course, so the ride was longer) without a rear-view mirror. I was in a rush to beat rush-hour back home (just wasn't ready for it) & the guy told me it would be 30 or 40 minutes. I wanted to cry or break something, but did neither. I just asked him could it be quicker than that, & my manipulative powers worked. I only had to wait 20 minutes or less.

I ended up getting my car fixed this weekend, cos I started & then aborted a road trip, & thought Henry might need the tune-up. He has four new tires, a new serpentine belt, new rear brake cylinders, & some more stuff. I love him. He's always been so reliable. All I had to do was sit there for 2,5 hours reading a book (Steinbeck's Tortilla Flat), drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes & listening to classical music. Hard work, indeed.

Tomorrow I go in for paperwork, & an introduction to the job. I have my two forms of ID, bank account information for direct deposit, & a sunny disposition. I recently learned how to do a fake smile that looks real (but feels awful), during Tina & I's dance-a-thon which included wigs, props & a camera. A dream of mine came true that night, we sang 'Bohemian Rhapsody' together. I never pictured myself dressed in a b&w kaffiyeh during that scenario, though, which made it all the more amazing. (This all reminds me, I should write about Boston soon.)

Am I nervous? Yes. Am I scared shitless? Not anymore. Am I excited? Only for the hour-or-more-long drive there during rush-hour, during which I will sing along to Tiny Tim & other extremely happy but twisted music.

I just need to conjure up to strength & not fag the fuck out.

Sat, 10 May 2008 20:32:51 GMT

Yesterday I read this really great article that studied José Antonio Primo de Rivera in the context of 1930s Europe, & asked if he was really anti-democratic or not. It looked at his rejection of political parties & such, & eventually compared him to de Valera. It was really good. It even mentioned Rousseau. My only grievance is the in-depth discussion of de Valera, I don't think that was necessary. But, still. Super.

It's in Spanish but I should definitely translate it one day. That would be the funnest.

http://www.nodulo.org/ec/2005/n044p12.htm

I do believe http://www.nodulo.org/ec/index.htm is now my favourite website (OMG I wish I could have hard copies!!!) & I'll become more of a nerd by adding it to my frequent reading of Smithsonian Magazine, The American Historical Review & other such publications.

Sat, 10 May 2008 20:22:07 GMT

Smoking a cigarette outside the Midas, I noticed how perfect Lecuona sounds accompanied by the buzzing, zipping & torquing of mechanics.

Fri, 09 May 2008 17:57:18 GMT

Last night was the first big storm of the season. There was a tornado just SW of hear, a severe thunderstorm all throughout the area. I forgot about tornados & didn't really want to see one yet, as I'm still getting over the idea of the earthquake in Sevilla (which was kinda cool, cos no buildings got hurt).

I went to sleep early, maybe around 2230, & was awakened at midnight for some strange reason. I had my back to the window, & all I could see was flashing lights which, in my delusion, I thought were flashing police lights or something, & was crossing myself every time it happened, as I do whenever a police car or ambulance passes (& when I see the remnants of an accident, & when I am in a moving vehicle, etc etc). But they kept happening, & I turned around to see why so many cops were needed in my neighbourhood, & then finally saw the huge lightning bolts & heard the immediate deafening thunder. Oh, ok. I immediately started with the Santa Bárbara bendita, que en el cielo está escrita, con papel y agua bendita ... that I retain from my mother, & kept on like this throughout the spectacle.

I felt I was hallucinating. I saw the sky very very dark, & I thought the porch light was illuminating the pink flowers on the tree. About half an hour later, in between Santa Bárbara recitations, I remembered that the pink flowers were on the other tree, not that one, & that the pink flowers were gone anyway. I realised that the sky was pink & the tree was black. It was beautiful, really. But the lightning kept going & the thunder got louder & I tried to think of how Dave told me that lightning is simply the static doorknob shock of the clouds.

I fell asleep eventually, & woke up to no electricity. I pretended that I was in the early 20th century. I let light into the house, read a book & wrote a bit in my new red notepad from Boston. I used this comfortably silent time to think, really, & not just freak out. I deemed myself an accomplished, world-traveled lady & knew somewhere in my tired, broken heart that the future could be, & maybe would be bright, even if I couldn't see it clear right now, like the lightning last night.

The noises returned with the electricity, but there's just not enough of it in the world to drown out my ... gulp ... hope.

Thu, 08 May 2008 19:19:54 GMT

I am not sure why I am such a spazz in banks, but it probably has something to do with the fact that I've always been poor, & banks have always fucked me over in one way or another. But that should have nothing to do with the personal, everyday dealings with a bank, right? Even in Sevilla, banks made me nervous. They know your name, address, how much money you have or don't have. They know what bills you are paying & how many you are refusing to pay. I either talk too low or two loudly, dress too up or too down. I just can't seem to get it right. Maybe it's the paranoia.

I went to go open a bank account today. It was raining, as it usually does on my bankscapades (either that or extreme heat). I didn't cause a spectacle like the last time I was in an American bank, but I felt everyone looking at me, even while the suit guy was discussing the Superbowl with the UPS guy. They were loud, I don't know why everyone was looking at me. Maybe it was the red crocs, but I like wearing them cos they look like clown shoes & that makes me laugh inside, & I need that a lot right now.

So I'm digging through my purse for my two forms of ID, & the lady asks me for my social. As I am telling her, she starts laughing. She did this about five times within ten minutes, & I'm not sure why. It was like I was constantly making jokes, only I wasn't. Then she kept smiling at me. Did she think it was funny that I only had 80$ to open the account with? Did she find it amusing that I had more euros than dollars? Or did she notice how horrible I look in both my ID fotos, or maybe was she smiling cos I look so much better now? What a mystery.

Every time she got up, I clutched my purse like a madwoman & tried to think of relieving things, like that one foto of my sister with my first-born nephew that makes her look like her trucker boyfriend Hoss left her Mexican ass by the side of the road. This always makes me feel better, for some reason. But then the lady was back, & told me my check card would arrive at my house within five to ten business days & then I had to sign things & it was all so confusing.

I left wondering why the week doesn't start on Monday in the States, & noticing the rain water inside my red crocs.

On a sad day the clouds part for a smile ... (loosely translated)

Thu, 08 May 2008 17:02:43 GMT

(preceding convo about crying & being sad & ready to punch people in their faces)

VR: I want to live in the movies.
MM: Which one?
VR: Mmm I don't know ...

(pause)

MM: 300??
VR: Jaja yes!

Tue, 06 May 2008 19:22:00 GMT

"You forgot to draw the eyes"
-Nathan Ray

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 22:34:48 GMT

Heavy-Hearted

sharpie on paper
8 x 10 inches

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 18:24:47 GMT

I feel too close to be losin' touch
By givin' in what I'm-a givin' up
Am I losin' way too much?

-Kings of Leon, "California Waiting"