too much booty in the pants

missaggrevation @ 2006-02-03T12:48:00

2006-02-03T20:58:53Z

I get gone for so long That when I come back everything has changed. I'm trying to remember what I like about anything. I guess I like Vitamin Water, and walking in San Francisco, and watching people build things, and sleeping bags and pit bulls. ANd I'm starting to like pot, and waiting tables. My New Years Day was on an aeroplane, and then with a man in a black hoodie with a leopard embroidered on it, and three days of speed to work through, and zombie movies. Oh, don't you ever feel like nothing is YOURS? Not a single goddamn memory. Is it going to stop raining? Is it time to go to bed yet? Will I ever stop needing someone? I've never felt so violent! My dad's coming soon, and my hair looks pretty good these days, and it's been eight years to the day that I gave up for the first time. Eight years! I wish I had the luxury of doing that now, when I had the choice of killing myself or going catatonic. But I don't have time to die, because I make too much money on Friday nights!

missaggrevation @ 2005-07-20T13:51:00

2005-07-20T19:00:58Z

Last night I made a puppet and lit it on fire while it was on my hand. I was worried about the carpet so I have burns.

fourth forth

2005-07-05T14:19:46Z

My independence day was spent in the house and out of the house, at a few houses, really. I scoured Cat Piss Cove, the small room directly across our bedroom, where the cats have taken to pissing on the mats in front of the litter boxes. This is not MY house, but the house of a very nice gentleman who is traveling the country and Canada in an RV, entrusting his 1400 cds, two big and flat screened televisions, wall of obscure DVDs, three cats and Shooby the dingo, to myself and Clarke.
I tubed the San Marcos river with a member of the Polyphonic Spree (though really, how hard can it be to get into that band?) and deemed him untrustworthy because he kind of whatevered the fact that he opened for David Bowie and is about to go on tour with Brian Wilson. Dude, I don't care that you're in the only choral rock group in the country, it's okay to get excited about David Bowie. And I thought you guys were kind of lame.
I ended up in the country, a good hour out of Austin, and drove up to a party with potato guns. This is my kind of fun. Burning Man meets backyard Texas barbeque. I had a great steak and egged on the shooting of cars with a paintball gun.
The main agenda is saving money and plotting our flight to California, mourning Texas every day. We're going to sneak up on Big Bend, take the back way. Camping! Clarke's grandparents in Tucson! LA! Then a nice slow jaunt up north. See you soon.

Oakland and my imminent death.

2005-07-03T22:17:22Z

Lovely house, really. 18th and Filbert, West Oakland. Loquats in the back, banana tree in the front, GANGSTERS EVERYWHERE according to a concerned mother who passed through the neighborhood the other day. I've already bugged gordonzola and myspace is down so I can't see what Jillian said, so... fagzukka? misscallis? Any ideas? Either way the lease is signed, I guess I should invest in a bullet proof vest now...

missaggrevation @ 2005-05-11T10:12:00

2005-05-11T17:18:35Z

hi i'm making decisions

I'm going to start cleaning house.

2005-04-13T18:17:22Z

I'm getting nervous.

missaggrevation @ 2005-02-04T10:36:00

2005-02-04T16:37:49Z

My ears are ringing something fierce. Can't seem to catch up with my reading. Next weekend, longtime bedtime, hella luxury, new improved airport reunions gee, can't wait.
Me against the cell phone companies, why can't they just let us love? Why are there times and regions? Capitalism isn't helping my tragic 2400 miles love affair, but there is something to be said for waking up to voices far away. I hope I don't pass out, my vision seems to be going the way of my hearing.
One week sober, not for any reason except that the thought of drinking is now repulsive to me, makes me nervous. Someone said to me "Roseanna, drinking is your friend, don't blame it for what happened. Keep alcohol close, sometimes it's all you have." And I agree. What with postcards and all, noting the way these days have gotten longer now that everything is so clear. Mornings are amazing. I wake up when my alarm goes off, shuffle around in the bathrobe wondering what to do first. Time for coffee, banana, last night's rice with honey and soy milk and raisins. Actually putting the things I need in my bag, no surprises, no headaches. Cigarette in the windowsill. I am the rainforest. I hope I turned the coffee maker off.
Slightly worried that not drinking is aging me, making me rely too much on enough sleep and good health.
Oh yeah, here's a good one, a nice little public health message, a head's up. Don't call me an exhibitionist, duder, this isn't therapy. I was drugged at a bar, isn't that wacky? I'm fine, I'm lucky, I'm totally awesome. I'm a lucky girl, and a happy girl, but watch your drinks girl because all of a sudden I'm an afterschool special with low-frequency post-traumatic stress syndrome (though I'm pretty sure I caught that, along with tuberculosis and pneumonia, from the bum in Seattle).
Sorry if I'm withdrawn, it's the new contemplative me, I'm so much deeper now than I was last semester. I wouldn't even try to talk to me, you probably would get confused because it's like I'm on a whole new level. I mean I love you guys and all? but like i need to be me. And no one (except Ariel) laughs at my really really good jokes anymore.

New Orleans prt 2

2004-12-14T16:30:49Z

I am in a really lovely house in Greenville, SC. Covered in books. I fell asleep reading Eloise. There is a very lovely Christmas tree in the living room and a piano in the bedroom I am in. Coming into a family-type environment (Clide's- frecklefacegirl) has been a perfect transition from New Orleans.
We missed our train on Sunday due to being kidnapped by a large group of Orlandonians trying to get married. Our party of two morphed into seven and we roamed the city late that night and then the next day, after I woke up five minutes before the train left, called the station, found out the train was gone, started crying and punched the bed. I hate admitting that we spent some time on Bourbon street, but we did. I couldn't drag myself away from the bizarre scene. Mostly fattish white people dancing. Some breast flashing, that silver guy from Austin, tap dancing... I was pretty into the whole drinking on the street thing. The clerk on the second floor of the Hustler store was amazing. I still have an odd dry patch on my neck.
Spent most of Sunday night on the floor of the train station, woke up to a cop hitting me on the foot with his baton. The train arrived, we made it on, enjoyed our free sleeping car and meals and now we're in South Carolina and Clide is singing and I'm going to have breakfast. There you go.

captain train-o #1

2004-12-11T21:19:25Z

Made it to New Orleans, le Big Easy if you will. I will. Or not. So far, semi-disaster. Train was ten hours late. Hotel wouldn't switch my reservation to the next night so we spent 57 bucks for 5 hours in a tiny shithole with a dead hooker under the bed. Probably. Moved this morning to the India House, a hostel further away but with a fish pond and a safe enough amount of asshole hipsters to make me feel home, you know? Po'Boys at a yuppie restaurant, Deanie's, weird Southerners talking about hunting on the streetcar. Already out of Xanax oh dear god.
Place to stay in NYC flaked out, bad roommates nogo. Oh dear god. This will be okay, this will be okay. In the coffee shop of the Contemporary Arts Museum. You can smoke anywhere in New Orleans.

missaggrevation @ 2004-12-08T11:44:00

2004-12-08T17:45:10Z

I'm leaving tomorrow. I have lingering strep throat. I have a French final and an Issues in Contemporary Art presentation plus bank plus grocery store plus leasing office plus still haven't heard from my friend in new york plus crap. Oh god.

Oh yeah. Please tell me where to stay in New Orleans, seeing as though I'll be there on Friday night and have yet to make a reservation.

i hate fucking wabbits

2004-11-29T22:39:50Z

missaggrevation @ 2004-11-29T16:26:00

2004-11-29T22:27:53Z

As usual, things happen fast. They slow down briefly, at night, I make room for shoving my nose into armpits. I'm good at finding people who like me, this I know for sure. I can't guarantee how long they will, or how long I will like them, but this isn't the important part. I suppose I like this one enough to travel with him. We will go to lots and lots of places, how fun! I am going to make a map, yes, I will.

i've got lots of nice things to say about him, but lately this isn't the place.

2004-10-19T21:14:12Z

I may or may not have met a boy.

2004-10-19T21:13:03Z

I've been taking some pictures.

2004-10-19T20:51:34Z

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-28T13:09:00

2004-09-28T18:08:12Z

Sir
Good thirty minutes late to class, the decision was made. Ride slow to accomodate slower partners, silent sigh, someone may or may not have heard hard things hitting hard things, metal on sheetrock, body on floor. Everytime I look around the classroom I see someone new, someone giving me the ole whale eye. Someone cocks his head when he looks at me, sort of a what's up slash what the fuck. I return it proudlike, the fuck ever.
I swear to god I have never, ever been a truckstop prostitute.
Performance art: plastic surgery and intense psychoanalysis, lets call it funny and drop it. Lets call it big control , lets not, not use words like "confrontational". Lets please not talk about gender issues and please god not eating disorders. Does no one else think its horrifying when the girl with the clipped theater lilt points out the cliches? Probably, I'm probably the only one whose hands cramp out of annoyance. Get over it, Rosie!
Got some food in my backpack, more yogurt, the last bagel, some water. Picnic under a tree at some point, the wind plasters my skirt (off the wall for today) against my crotch, I'll call it performance art, sexualizing what normally would be a prim item of clothing. Juxtoposition, I'm young and I'm Black and my Hat's real low.
Sleeping in the same bed like a series of naps, waking up like I never lay down, wanting to relay dreams that weren't deep down enough to be anything but stories.
Blood behind your ears, nary a trace of shame on my side, I feel like we're even, we've made peace. Play it cool, play it cool, sky blue stone skipper, hand on forehead, shading the glare, is that land, is that a seagull?
beached, now and the next hour,
Roseanna

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-09T14:52:00

2004-09-09T19:44:53Z

and self-destructed.

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-09T14:51:00

2004-09-09T19:43:53Z

Prepared our bicycles for winter.

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-09T14:51:00

2004-09-09T19:43:10Z

We made tamales one night.

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-09T14:50:00

2004-09-09T19:42:27Z

I had a birthday.

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-09T14:47:00

2004-09-09T19:40:56Z

Things faded but we got used to it.

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-09T14:44:00

2004-09-09T19:36:46Z

And then summer ended.

missaggrevation @ 2004-09-02T13:03:00

2004-09-02T18:47:31Z

bumpbumpchkchk

I'm tempted to talk about the weather but I won't, again!

I love epitonic.com, really. The blackbox is super cool. Czarl gave me a tattoo of a small house on the bottom of my big toe, when I get it wet it looks like the ink really wants to get out. I think I give it two months.

czar

2004-08-26T19:21:34Z

Hello.

I've got a great apartment, a fun job. I get good exercise, I make questionable decisions. I drink plenty of water. This is not a picture of me. I'm in college. I speak to my parents weekly, I play with my niece and call old friends sometimes. I am getting better at not being lazy.

kkrckk

2004-07-25T16:41:11Z