Passing Open Windows

Gogol's on Letterman???

And smegging brilliant...and people wonder why I want to live in NYC.

deftly surrounding the neck
my fingers are spiders
looking for sore spots
from the last fall

cold glass encasing my erasure
numbing the mind after days of thinking
too much about too little
much ado with the back and forth
to just hit backspace and dream
denying my reigns
i just take a left at albuquerque

spoiled and spilling my subconscious
while i sit at home
heaven away from the heathens
when all the followers have gone on
to better homes and gardens
east coast magnets blend my ore
pushing another reason down my neck

doom is always the sound of the season
no matter when the moans set it
deftly surrounding the bottle
i drink to the dead left in my mind's wake
too many voices will clog your constitution son
best to focus on one element
erasure ensuring my sleep

just in case
there was a wonder in the world
i'm a waste of space.

"Maps" was written about the lead singer of this band:

I really just don't think it's fair some people get all the cool.



Nevermind the blogging. This so didn't help my mood.



Fat kid finally pulled his finger out, and I really do hate them.

I mean come on...who are we, when we are with the person we *think* we can most be ourselves around? What's the fucking point, when, later, everything WAS right, but somehow neither of you saw it?

http://web17.streamhoster.com/arjanwrites/MistakesLikeThese.mp3


I feel so fucking retarded. No, no I don't, right Ten Days to Self-esteem?

I am a hopeless romantic, among other things. Not all as pleasant. So, the idea that he...decided that the "change" he was saying he needed, the other night, meant we might live happily ever after...yeah. That was nice. Sweet. Not as in, "Sweet, dude!" But sweet. As in babies laughing, kitties licking, and mom's homemade gluten-free chocolate pound cake.

Ok, the cake is also "Sweet dude!"

But you know what I mean...I feel really, really stupid right now.

But grateful, right?

riiiight. zenpersonalgrowthnewopportunitiesexplorationblahblahblah.

riiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

I feel like crying. All twisty inside, the fat kid with his finger in my eyes, just about to go home for fried fish...it won't happen, though.

I woke up to the most romantic...thing..."he finally left a comment!"

*deep breath*

And what a comment it was. Confusing and mysterious. "Was he drunk?" I thought.

Turns out, he was. But not drunk, and feeling lovey. Drunk, and ...well, whatever.

I'm glad it cleared up. I glad I didn't have to make the decision I was thinking about all day.

But god damn.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY "I LIKE YOU."




And leave that?

Ok...OK...be grateful, it was a mistake. Another dagger twisting 'round and round...I can't even watch it again.

It got worse, when I talked to him.


Why would anyone hide their nerdiness from me? I ask you. Have you been to my house?? Watched me squeal in delight, and tear up at a Christie's Star Trek auction?? Who collects Pee-Wee Herman episodes? Weird Al albums??? HUH? HUH HUH HUH???

*deep breath*

It would very much help if, when I talked to him, I didn't think, the whole time, about how much nicer the conversation would be if we were naked.

best anything about Dita, anywhere. Love her. Have since before she was dating Manson. Love every word out of her mouth in this interview. Esp. where she agrees that style = the right clothes, meaning money = bs.

Not actually new. New to me. New to me, and I like it, and I wish there were a club to go drink and swoop around in.






Lush!!



I forget the fucking TREASURE TROVE youtube is. God music used to be so good. The first Lush song I heard"



ON MIX TAPE! Sorry to scream. I just miss mix tapes. Or at least having people in my life who'd make them for me.

I find better music - and music I like, that I'm not in touch with - on youtube...




Sometimes I think I should have taken more drugs. Hell, any drugs...




I know she was lipsynching and all, but still. This is one of the most beautiful performances:



I think I teared up, honest I did.

Somehow, that video had a link to this song, which I love:

Huh. So now I know what they all look like. Mmph. I love those loose necked t-shirts. I see now, why they never really made it. They're grown-ups, with talent and the actual ability to play their instruments. Mmph. Black curly hair. Crappy video, when it's not showcasing their playing, though. Bah. I am too drunk, and lonely, to be looking at cute boys!

From ten years ago...ha ha ha.

Blech, you know who I don't like? Paolo Nutini. Laaaaaaaaaame.

*donotthinkabouthowshesaysyeahlikeyouknowyeahlikeyouknowlikelikelikeyouknowsheisagoodsinger*

I love that song. Except for the sentiment. There has to be modern romance. I am modern romance.




I don't think I mentioned my love for Lydia Lunch grew, last week, after watching this



On a personal note, tonight was something else.

I overslept, but got up around ten. Spent all day on the couch. Telling myself to go do something. Around 8 I did something, I went out to the car, to drive to Bi-Lo, and get some tonic water for my bday gin.

Someone broke into my car, took a worthless necklace, and threw everything else around. I drove to Bi-Lo. It started to pour.

I sat and sweated. Drenched myself, walking to the front door. I read that it doesn't matter if you run or walk, you still get wet. So I don't exert myself.

At Publix, one of them big bottles of diet tonic water is 69 cents. So I'd counted out a dollar in change. Dimes, nickels and pennies.

At Bi-lo, a little bottle is 99 cents. I didn't have enough money.

I would have, if my change hadn't been burgled out of my car.

I did have my debit card. I did get the tonic water, running back through the downpour into the sanctity of my car. Only it wasn't feeling so sanctimonious.

They got into my car.

I got home, sauna'd from the defroset and rain, and called the cops. For the third time in less than a year.

...and Snow Patrol is on the TV, so many hours later. It's a rerun. Several months ago, they were on, and I joked, "...so 1996." Or something like that. It illicited the first "a lot of things you do annoy me."

It was funny, because we'd been having what I thought was a good conversation...until he sighed something about being unsure, that he could be friends.

Isn't that my job?? I was the one who got dumped!

Eh. Whatever. I'm just trying to do the right thing. Be zen. Life is too short, and all that....*sigh*

I no longer want to talk about that.

good read

Well, my birthday was astonishingly boring and uneventful. But, on the other hand, for the first time in three years, not one tear was shed. And, I realized on the way to work this morning, I thought not once about my suicide pact.



"Does this screen door make me look fat?"

I spent most of the day on the couch, waiting for my new atrociously guilty pleasure to come on, posting more on etsy.

I did have a hot date.

With Harry Potter.

I seduced myself



got myself naked



and read and read



"Oh no! The Dark Lord! Time for another bon-bon!"

Around 1:30 I'd made it nearly half-way through.

It was a leisurely reading, much interrupted by cute cat petting.



Caticus petmeyoumustes!




Until *yawn* too much chocolate (and gin), and so the birthday ends.

But sometimes things are odd. I don't believe in astrology, but I have always fit the Leo description - though nobody who does believe in astrology has ever guessed what I was. I mean never!

And since childhood, I've had a thing for cats. Every year for Xmas, that was top of my list to Santa. Even though we were all allergic. One of the first things I did, when I moved away, was get a cat. And I haven't lived without one since, over ten years ago. Up to nine, now at five - one of whom, my black cat, just wandered in the back door one night! Seriously! She came in two years ago and hasn't left! I come home, and there's orange cat, in the yard. And, the other day, a new fluffy grey one.

It is about magic, mystery and being independent. The cat, a creature which combines a high degree of sensuality with a deeply psychic and spiritual nature, teaches us that the physical and spiritual worlds are not separate, but one.

The past year, it's been dragonflies. The boyf - ah, ex boyfriend. When I took acid, I talked to a dragonfly. They seem to pop up a lot, these days.

Kinda weird.

The power of Dragonfly lies in its ability to see around things by looking from different angles.


DRAGONFLY - lets us see past the illusion, letting light in so that we can see what we need to see to make our lives better. When we've tricked ourselves into believing that the limitations of physical existence prevent us from changing and growing Dragonfly medicine teaches us to pierce our self-created illusions. Dragonfly reminds us to let our colors shine by using the light within.

Dragonfly Totems Facilitate:

Greater attention to the nuances and subtleties around us
Awareness & gratitude of inner beauty
Awareness of outer beauty, and ability to share it modestly with the world
Knowledge of life's brevity, and understanding the importance of making every minute special

If that doesn't describe me, it sure describes what I aspire to.







I have been surrounded by spiders since I moved into this house. All in the trees. The corners of the house. My car. When I go to Dragon Hills, they invade my tent. I come home bitten.

Kinda weird.


Spider's message is that you are an infinite being who will continue
to weave patterns of life and living throughout time.
Do not fail to see the eternal plan of creation.

Those who weave magic with the written word usually have this totem.

Spider medicine reminds us that it is not ourselves, but the Universe which has the design for the fabric of our lives.

Predestination!



This medicine teaches to remember that we are the creators of our lives. When spider appears in your life think about writing down your thoughts, telling your story.

Existentialism! I've been keeping journals since the third grade.

Spider spins her web where and when she please. She reminds us that home is always within and we can create life however we want it to be. Our thoughts, words, and deeds we are always spinning new realtiies. Pay attention to the one you are creating.

It's just weird.

I was late for work. I went out last night and got druuuunk.

Must...not...spend...money...but we were just going to play pool at the little gay bar....or go to three bars, and end up hanging out with the youknowwhat...

Tomorrow's my birthday, and I really don't care. I cannot tell you the last good one - well, no, the one....five years ago? Six years ago? Was good. Otherwise, they're disasters. And this year, it doesn't exist.

Except I got a check for ten dollars from my grandmama, and a package.



Not just mail, but a PACKAGE! With yummy soap and ANI STICKERS! among other goodies.


I want to take a shower!!

And a mysterious stranger left a wonderful basket as well.



He's not really a stranger. Well, after all this time, he is...anyways. what was I saying? Oh, right. Goodies.



I'm drinking and eating them now, listing to "Alton's Brownies." And everything's OK.

I posted on etsy...nothing's sold. It's been like an hour! Gah, I don't want a real job...

What was I talking about? Silent house, except for some tunes. I think I need some more chocolate...I guess I could go out tonight. Be out and about at midnight, to scream in my birthday.

Or I could sit here eating bon bons and gin for dinner, and try to hide quietly until the whole thing's over.


All eyes on the calendar, another year I claim of total indifference
To here the days pile up with decisions to be made
I'm sure all of them were wrong
Into this song, I send myself
And with these drinks I plan to collapse and forget
This wasted year, these wasted years
Devoted friends, they disappear
I'm sorry about the phone call, and needing you
Some decisions you don't make
I guess it's like breathing and not wanting to
There are some things that you can't fake
I guess that it's typical to cling to memories you'll never get back again
And to sort through old photographs of a summer long ago
Or a friend that you used to know
And there, below his frozen face, you wrote the name and that ancient date
And you can't believe he is really gone
When all that's left is a fucking song

Here is a good article on Morrissey.

I don't think it's fair, that she should be so witty and clever and pretty.




I really should be doing something instead of watching videos.

Many months, now, I've whispered the word, "Morrissey!"

I was tickled. Thrilled. Excited as hell.

...let's just fast-forward, shall we? The big day has arrived. We're leaving later than I'd wanted, because I'd stayed out later than a sane person should, and slept as much as I could to prepare for my big night.

We start out with Psychocandy.

On the way we stopped at Fryar's Topiary.




Pictures don't do it justice. He was mowing, and came up to chat a few times. Hand us brochures and make small talk.



I did see a dragonfly - two of them. Flirting with each other.



It made me smile, a very sad smile, but a smile all the same. He would have loved this place. I'm not sure how long we stayed. It was pretty wonderous.



The drive was murder. Apparently there is only one way into MB, and everybody was there. New York, Kentucky, West Virginia, Indiana, Ontario, Ohio, N.C., S.C...stop and go. Stop and go. Mostly stop. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. B-52's.

We pass Bo Bo's Oriental Massage. I wasn't taking pictures of every damn thing in site, yet. A white clapboard building with signs all over advertising (can you guess?) "theraputic massage."

We also passed a sign that just said "clowns."

And the Myrtle Beach Visitor's Center. And the Myrtle Beach OFFICIAL Welcome Center. And the Myrtle Beach Information Center.

And a billboard proclaiming "Spontanity is great! For reservations..."

Fast-forward. The hotel.



Hello beach! See that white area, glowing from behind my head? That's the ocean.



"Oh...Morrissey...I know you're out there...."

Whelp, we was hongry. As it turns out, not only is there only one way into MB, MB is just one long road itself. Ooooooooone loooooooooooong rooooooooad...where did we eat?



A Mexican party (La Fiesta Mexican restaurant). Quatros tacos pastor.

It was good! If God hates me and I end up back in MB, I'd want to eat there again. I took the straw out of my drink and inhaled our food. Nearly door time!


The show was amazing. Nevermind who it was. He was brilliant. And it was packed. I've never, ever, been to a show that packed. There was just nowhere to go. The floor was so crowded it had been roped off.

The show was amazing. Brilliant. Did I say that? I'm hoarse, tonight, from singing along. My neck hurts, from dancing. I jumped up and down in excitement - not realizing I'd done so until after the fact.

I glowed, I swear...that might have been the drinks, though. $6 freakin' .50 for a drink. Total, utter rip-off.

He was pulling girls up on stage. Took his shirt off. And sang and sang. And was funny. I even nearly teared up, a few times. He didn't sing Jack the Ripper, but he sang Girlfriend in a Coma, a book you should forgo this boring weekend tale for.

Where was the afterparty?

I want to take you to the



gay bar, gay bar. You can't see it, but that's a drag show.


Subtle, no?



What you have here:



is a lap dance. Boring, yes. But what you cannot see is he started dressed as a Pierrot



clown, dancing to Piaf-y tune. Then he ripped that off, to reveal the chest straps and assless chaps.

Our hotel hadn't worked out. Not a whole lot had - all cancelled out by the brilliant and amazing (third time's a charm) performance and musical extravaganza.

"Oh, you can come stay with us at my friend's house, they're not there. Just follow me."



Now it's like you're there! Say out loud, "Where is he going?? Where are we??"

Fast-forward. They were there. We slept in a closet. No, I mean it.



A closet.

Nothing says, "Wake up, sunshine!" Like coffee.



Esp. do-gooder "Oh, no, really, we're cool," Starbucks and their "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ABOUT THE MILLIONS OF CHILDREN DYING OF AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIDDDDSSSS??" cups.



Need...food...the kid we're with doesn't really seem to know the area. Mexican or seafood? My vote's for seafood. We are on the beach and stuff.



How can you go wrong eating at a place with "ratz" in the title, hm?? As it turned out, I'd eaten there before, years ago, on the infamous Pawley's 4th adventure.

Clean hands are a promise, thanks to their (patented?) roll-of-paper-towels table umbrellas.



And the view was lovely.



There's just something comforting about eating under a pirate flag.



Country, homestate, violence and buggery.

We began to meander home via "the scenic route." As stated, the weather was perfect.



S.C. is like an abusive husband. It beats you down with humidity, humidity, but then feels sorry, and gives you the biggest bouquet of perfect weather roses you've ever seen, hates to see you so miserable, and kneels with an apology of clear blue skies and breezes.

I love the drive through the low country. Most of it looks like this:



But it's full of ... "character," as was put. Trailors, abandoned and occupied. No stretch without a JESUS SAVES sign. Roads that look to go nowhere.



Restaurants of clapboard, "The Crab Pitt." Trucks. Tents. Trailors. Trailors. More trailors. Churches, churches, more churches. With cemeteries. On farmland.



to be continued...

As it turned out, we were mere miles from the PIT! Home of the infamous 4th...I wish we'd eaten there. It's the best. We stood around chatting with the manager/chef, an old friend.

And now we really-really leave for reals.

Hm, what's going on in Moncks Corner....



A new fire truck! Two new Eagle Scouts!

On our way to visit our aunts we passed The Treasure Barn.

My companion came back exclaiming, "They have every Prince single ever!" He held Raspberry Beret in his hand. Sho' nuff,






Treasures in a barn indeed!






Your art deco pitcher



to match your mammy



A vacuum cleaner cover?

Though I passed on




I did purchase a 2-disc delight:







It really was an amazing place. Their house. Her studio, overflowing with supplies and ideas and finished pieces. Her partner's "annex," which was another house, chock-full of antiques. Books, dishes...just...ah! It was fantastic!!

I might have touched a book Dorothy Parker touched. And wrote it. I managed to restrain myself, and leave with only



Jelly jars? She's got jelly jars! She also had this gem:



"Is that what you drink?"

No, it's where I live!

And this from their fridge,