Tuesday, September 28, 2004

my bees are gone

they vacated over the weekend- leaving only a few stragglers behind who apparently weren't strong enough for the trip. they seem to be dying in a circle around my bed. i'm beginning to wonder what was up with my little swarm. now that they are gone i sort of miss them. they made a nice hum around my head during the night.
bye bees.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

rocky road, a brady bunch marathon & 2 sheets of yellow paper

i've spent the entire weekend grumbling around my apartment in fits of tears, anger, frantic anxiety & pure deep sadness. it's been a rough couple weeks (i use that phrase so often it has lost all meaning)
got a call on sat that required a little bargining of souls & prioritizing... & i'm afraid monty's fat ear is just going to have to wait. i got some meds for him- which he HATES & twice daily we wrestle on my living room floor...but his surgery will just have to come in a couple weeks- i am going first. and part of me just hopes it all ends there. but at least today was better- got a big tub of rocky road ice cream, there's a brady bunch marathon on tv land (yes i'm gay) & i found a letter stuffed in my mailbox from my stealthy friend (& not the stalker!) hahah. thank you. not many people can make me giggle & cry at the same time in my laundry room.. you've got skills! i needed reminding that i'm not completely alone- even if basically i am.
you shouldn't have snuck away to the alley so fast.... i'm sitting on my sofa bowl of ice cream resting on my belly & the brady's just got married & can't fathom a night alone on their honeymoon..... this is GOOD stuff ... good stuff. almost makes me want to hang around but i am tired of being alone.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

tube socks don't swing.

forget about the myths you have read on the packaging. there is nothing ambidextrous about them. one wearing is all it takes to determine the destiny as righties or lefties... n'er shall the two commingle again.
i discovered this fact while riding my bike today.
it was supposed to be a day of lethargy- moving from my sofa only for food, drink or when a body part went numb. but i made it as far as 'good morning' in 'singin' in the rain' & remembered that not only did i have to drop off my time, i needed to deposit a check into the atm & if i wanted to eat i needed to go to the store.

the days weather wasn't exactly calling me outside for a 10 mile bike ride- but begrudgingly i got dressed in what i figured would be 'flood & hail appropriate attire' for norcal. that is to say... that i basically kept on my dirty dickies, & long sleeve t-shirt, added my welding sweatshirt & a yankees hat & figured i was good to go... that is once i put on a pair of socks. without even considering the possibilities i threw on a pair of tube socks that i rarely seem to get on in a matching pair. baby yellow & burgundy. ages ago a yellow met up with a burgundy & despite convention & societal scorn a match was made & both couples (4 socks = 2 pair remember) have lived harmoniously together ever since: both in my top drawer & on my feet. today however yellow ended up paired with yellow & it never occurred to me that i would run into problems- but alas, it seems that in both couplings the yellows played left, while the burgundies always sidled their way onto the right.
as i set out on my journey.. i sensed something was wrong but i wasn't quite sure just yet what it was.

so i am riding along 26th street- grumbling to myself because it is bloody cold out & i'm afraid i won't be warm enough but i am too lazy to go back home. i just keep looking nervously at the brilliant blue sky tinged with BLACK clouds & wonder if there will be a part II to the exodus of rain & hail that broke loose for over an hour earlier in the day. i also notice that nobody, not even mother nature fucks with sacramento's sidewalks...... i passed house after house after house- rain still dripping from the eaves.. and these people were out front raking branches & leaves from their yards, hosing off the sidewalks & shoveling the hail into piles along the street in a furious race to hide the evidence. apparently residents around here like to remove any trace of weather asap- as though it was a dirty secret to be kept from outsiders. we don't get 'weather' around here.

their attempts were futile however- twice i had to change my course because the streets were so flooded i couldn't get through... and then two blocks later it would be sunny & dry. (i guess some neighborhoods are better at keeping secrets than others??)
i didn't really become discouraged until up on m st near the park i came to a stopping point. the park had become a pond & taken most of the bordering streets with it. i hesitated for a second- wondering 'how deep could it possibly be?'... a man in shorts answered that for me as quickly as i thought it. he rode in & quickly disappeared up to his waist. i nodded 'thanks' & turned around. i have seen that park every sunday- it is FULL of dogs with owners conspicuously lacking little plastic baggies.. not to mention the human element that must call that park home (& by association..... bathroom) by night. as i saw it... it would have been safer to go skinny dipping in the sole port-a-potty at a construction site than to wade through that festering fecal pond.

it was at about this point that my feet began cramping up. i attributed it to a lack of bananas in my diet & my inexperience at maneuvering my bike through 8" of water, piles of hail & enough citrus fruit & nuts that my drive way farmers will most likely be working over time for the next 5 days gathering it all. you have NO IDEA how treacherous grapefruit, ice pebbles & acorns are when mixed....
and then to make things worse.. my socks kept falling down. i have a LOT of sock issues & so as a rule... my socks are usually in pretty good shape. the colors don't have to match.. but they must be of the same weight, cotton weave & height. no holes, no discoloration, no wayward elastic.... needless to say, i have never actually run into the problem of wearing socks on the wrong feet- or finding myself wearing two left socks. (though you would never know it to look at me- as i tend to have that 'two left feet' air about me)
i realize my sock situation doesn't seem like it should pose that much of a problem.. but trust me... it goes against everything we were ever taught about getting dressed & i realized that futile as most of those lessons may have been... there truly were some key elements that should always be adhered to.

what seemed like 3 hours later i finally made my way back into my apartment. frozen, covered with mud, nose running, hands blue, (& it was actually like 65... it just seemed cold) feet gnarled balls of cramping hell.... before i even locked up my bike i flung my vans off (scaring the shit out of monty) & ripped those fucking socks off like they were on fire.

damn things. drove me fucking crazy.
my, that was a ramble.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

i've got a bad case of bees

is it possible for people to have bees much like a dog has fleas? i seem to be a popular hang out spot for the little creatures. they don't sting me or even annoy- they just hover around my head & sit on my shoulders when i am at home in my bedroom. it is odd. if i get up- they come along. if i sit in bed & read- they all settle around me as though they are reading over my shoulder. sometimes they line up on my night stand & buzz around my reading lamp. sometimes they just crawl around on my blankets... 10 or more at a time. it's like i have a halo. they are really quite nice though so i don't bug them- i just can't figure out why they have taken such a liking to me. maybe because i don't swat at them? maybe because i smell like a heavenly flower? haahaha... ok maybe that is a slight exaggeration.. but i do smell good.
i should train them.
the amazing heather & her band of wild bees.

Sunday, September 12, 2004

so long merle

i found my 'pseudo pet' baby possum, merle, dead on the street today. we shared many a bagel on my way to work in the morning.... he was flat as a piece of toast. he was so cute (well not in his current state.. but pre-squishing he was)
he would hiss at me ferociously, then waddle over to me, chow down on bites of my bagel & then become quite happy & content & purr like a cat.
no more.
i think i am the touch of death. it seems to consume me these days.
i am fucking sick of it.

Saturday, September 11, 2004

weebles wobble but they don't fall down

i just found a weebles west ranch on ebay tonight.... pure 1974 weeble wobble play time fun. complete with weeble west sign, rocking chair & weeble horse. i had one of these when i was a girl of 3.... loved it. timothy o'reiley the family dog ate most of my weebles... & trust me... they don't wobble so much after passing through the digestive tract of a high strung irish setter. i'm not sure what happened to the rest of my weeble kingdom. i know we had a couple different sets but i don't remember seeing them the last time i spent the afternoon crawling around in the storage areas of my parents attic. a veritable multi-million dollar ebay warehouse full of toys. basically everything we ever had as children + a pretty cool smattering of toys from my parents childhood that somehow survived the abuse of not one set of kid hands but 2.
between erector sets, lincoln trains & 12 city blocks worth of fisher price houses, schools, garages, castles & barns not to mention enough hot wheels track to make it from the play room to all the bedrooms with enough left over for a rest stop in the bathroom- there was always some elaborate urban landscape sprawled throughout the house. it was not uncommon to be sitting watching tv & have a train run past your feet... over flowing with live hamster cargo...sophia commandeering the engine- horn blowing, smoke stack billowing.... & 12 of her trusty hamster friends riding in the cars behind (god help the poor vermin that got stuck in the dump car... because we took great pleasure in unloading our cargo around sharp curves!)
barbie never had to worry about bulking up those calves via the grotesque act of walking up stairs (oh the middle class horror of stairs!) the multi level architecturally stunning domains we created ALWAYS came complete with a motorized elevator constructed from our dads old erector set... it ruled. it was greasy, heavy: all metal- non of that "safe" plastic crap from our generation, had a zillion tiny screws & bolts- just begging to be put in your mouth, the motor could have easily chewed our fingers off, it smoked, needed oiling every 5 minutes... smelled like a factory & our structures had a way of toppling over on us when we built them too high without enough bracing (ever have an 8' tower of metal blades crash down on you??? both barbie & i came close to losing our heads many a time. if you tried to market that thing today it would need a label that read "not recommended for anyone except structural engineers ages 27-65" we were the only kids in the neighborhood that new how to build cranes & had the means to do it... we even had our own little hard hats & safety glasses which undoubtedly is the reason i still have eyes to this day.
i keep hoping that one of these days i will be settled enough & in a large enough space that i can bring all my toys 'home'.... & set up shop once again. i long to play out my dramatic tales of intrigue, deception & volatile sexual scandal in the quiet, unassuming town of fischer price...

i was a high strung incredibly anal, detail oriented child.... i took my play so seriously that i had made scenery & landscaping so i could change the seasons & different code regulations for 'town' & 'country'
not to mention that my brother & i made a small fortune charging our parents & grandparents a toll every time they wanted to 'cross' over borders or whenever we had an especially dramatic monologue to take place between quarreling barbies or an adulterous round head & his deceived yet loving wife... my brother & i would charge admission, sell them snacks made in the easy bake oven, and then make them watch the carnage unfold... after the first act we would make them leave, come back in & pay again. we were ruthless businessmen- but we put on a damn fine show. hahaha. god i was a funny kid. my parents always said i was 4 going on 45.. from about the age of 4 mos.

Friday, September 10, 2004

"i steal teeth from kittens to make necklaces for satan"

thank you david sedaris for the best line ever.

i picked up tallulah's ashes today - they are rather chunky. i'm going to look through them better once i get home & see if there are any recognizable pieces

she came in a cedar box... thus making her better smelling in death than she ever was in life.

brandon.. if you come visit.. we can make necklaces from the little bone shards.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

today sort of sucks but sort of not i guess

i don't really feel like working... what's new. i have evil girl cramps & i'm tired.
almer keeps playing songs from sly stallone movies & no projectile seems big or sharp enough to bring him down. it's killing me & i hate to think that the soundtrack to my final moments will be 'eye of the tiger'.... on the other hand... i am tempted to run up & down the stairs at top speed with my arms over head speaking in broken english. (& that would be a 'pro' as opposed to 'con' i ask myself????...)

my boobs are killing me.... but i have to say, while checking myself out in the 'are you about to get knifed' mirror at the atm i noticed that in this shirt they look quite nice. very round & pert.... i took out an extra $20 & stuck it in my own bra just for fun. speaking of tawdry pleasures... i got my latest shipment from sephora today. ordered some supplements & facial crap.. nothing too thrilling. but i was excited to find a full size tube of nars lipgloss had accidently been added to my order. excited that is until i opened it & realized it was this horrible prostitute purple. needless to say... it's probably a sold out color around here.. since looking like a two-bit whore is the look du jour. but it's just not me & therefore worthless. in fact, while at jamba juice- their overly excited 'team' of juice squeezers ganged up on me in a fit of glee proclaiming i look exactly like the super uptight, uber white chick in nip-tuck... the boring wife & mother.... the anal, neurotic, whiney one. i think her name is julia? i was like 'ummm,,, yeah thanks??? so you are saying i look like a mom????'
RAD.
i pulled the $20 from my bra, paid for my strawberry tsunami & left.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

take it back....'dirty shame' is actually a very pleasing lip shade. i look freshly kissed & nibbled. god i wonder if i will ever actually get kissed again? doesn't seem likely. somehow i have a sinking feeling that even with my new pouty, dirty, shameful mouth.... i will nuzzling be my pillows alone for many nights to come. i was never supposed to turn out like this. i've dated some of the most 'eligable bachelors' in the fucking world for christ's sake! why is it i'm suddenly not fucking good enough?

at any rate, that is a pointless tyraid. i left work today only to discover that my tire was DEAD. all set to walk it home & remembered that directly across the street from my office is a bloody bike shop.... derr... so i went over & got 2 brand spanking new tires. they are lovely.

shit... i must have been drunk when i wrote this.. it came out all backwards

Sunday, September 05, 2004

tallulah's gone

i had to put her to sleep today.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

soliloquy of the suicide.

it's always the same for everyone.
"they will miss me once i am gone."
"they will regret the way they treated me."
"now they will know how i suffered."

said in the empty room of an emptier life to no one.
with words that are meaningless, selfish & tumble from a crazed ignorant tongue.
the 'woe is me' prattle of teenage girls that churns through all of us; motivates some.

none of us will ever be missed by the one we want to miss us most.
regret will easily be pushed onto someone else's lap.
and life IS suffering.
you wallow in it or you become emboldened by it.

it simply isn't enough to say i hate you.
so instead, goodbye.

Thursday, September 02, 2004

laundering death

i've shed many a tear over the washing machine.
it's one of the hardest parts... a week or so later- when you are finally left alone with that plastic bag of belongings from the hospital or whatever remnants of fabric were touched by death & then pushed aside until you are forced to carry on with life & do the laundry.

i came home from work today & began the laundry.

my life seems to be surrounded by death these days. it seems to flow from my fingers even. as i sat on my bed sorting the sopping, reeking sheets a bee landed on my knee. i picked it up by its wing & looked at it. it fell from my fingers dead as can be. my bed is surrounded by them. dozens.

however, today's load wasn't technically a death load-
though,,, a precursor to the inevitable i fear.
i stripped my house of the mass of linens accumulated during 24 hours of caring for a cat with kidney failure who is currently in the hospital hooked up to tubes- where she may or may not leave by her own devices.

but it all smells the same.
it brought back a feeling i haven't felt in a long time,,, had hoped to never experience again.
i looked back on the past few months & it sickened me to think of how close it comes, how close it is.
i don't want to do this anymore.
i can't.
i've done my share of bloodied, piss, puke & sorrow stained laundry.
nothing is ever so bad that anyone should have to wash a loved ones brain from the pockets of a shirt.
remember that when you caress the soft steel of the trigger.
you can't put your arms around a memory
& the smell of death stains forever.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

i thought

my cat, tallulah had a cold & was a bit dehydrated from the heat. we went to the vet today to get an antibiotic. $30 visit turned into a $200 which i didn't really have- but what can you do? the vet called a little while ago & left a message said it looks like her kidneys are failing. i need to call her first thing in the morning- but most likely she is going to tell me tallulah needs to be put to sleep.
i wanted babies & ended up with cats. now i have to kill one of them. i had to do this once before & it sucked but at least i had my sister to go with me. now i am totally alone & have to do it myself.
i've turned into one of those pathetic middle aged (nearing anyway) women who has no hope of ever getting a real boyfriend, husband or kids & instead has cats for children. monty & tallulah are all i have. i can't believe this.
2004 really truly is annus horribilis.

i want to stop crying so badly. just fucking make it stop. ALL OF IT.