Filed under: Música, Other people, Stupid Boys, The New Deal, Writing | Tags: PRODIGAL DRUNK SUMMER
I haven’t posted because:
- I was busy dying (not because of a hangover at the carnie job, mind you)
- I have 2 full-time jobs
- I’m a lazy beezy that just doesn’t care
- SO MUCH BAKING TO DO!
On my next day off (i.e. Monday, i.e. next week, i.e. my 1 day off a week), I’m making these bagels (click!)
And, dang, if Hayes Carll isn’t the dopest of dope alt-country dudes strumming/singing right now. AND Ryan Bingham’s new CD is mad growing on me. Look/wait with breath held, for a slightly updated review of Roadhouse Sun… it’s really kinda growing on me.
I gotta go to bed since job #2, i.e. autism day camp TA starts at 8am. everyday. In addition to my carnie job everyday, but at least I got hotties at Oaks Park to look at/think about (but not wanna bone, obvtron, cause eww, they are literally like 12, or 20, but still, really, my boss? at 20??? really???? and he mad owned you on the obscure-ish foreign dbag term? really?). Oh well.
FYI, been doing mad physical writing lately.
P.S. My baking has been lopsided, (ditto for one of my two roomies). I think our oven has turned on us. It now only cooks edges, then burns edges while cooking the innards of cakes/breads/etcs. WHACK ATTACK.
I will get one of the carnies into my bed. Oh, lord help me, but I will. Be it Pete and Pete, or my DBAG 20 year old boss, or the ohmygood so self-aware 19 year old. One of ‘em, or all of ‘em. That’s the plan.
AND P.P.S. JO BROS IN A WEEK + SOME DAYS!!!!!!!!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!!
A really good pancake recipe (i.e. the one I use when I wanna get my breakfast on):
- 1 cup flour
- 1 1/2 tblsp granulated sugar
- 2 tblsp baking powder
- 1 tsp salt
- 1 cup milk
- 1 egg (beaten, obv)
- 2 tblsp vegetable oil
- 1 tblsp vanilla
- 1 tblsp cinammon
- Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together.
- Well it up.
- Mix the milk, egg, vegetable oil, vanilla, and cinammon in a bowl.
- Dump into the flour mixture.
- Whisk until smooth.
Voila! Pancake batter! Cook to your heart’s content!
I used to be a great writer. For whatever reason (i.e. the internet was broken again at my house) I reread a bunch of stuff I wrote way back in my glory days (i.e. apparently high school) and, not to toot my horn, but they were pretty damned good. I had no trouble coming up with ideas, no trouble filling in the details, no trouble finishing them. And the words just flowed. And everything came together. I even wrote an entire story in rhyming (ABAB) verse. For real. Shockingly, it did not win the writing contest I won that year for poetry.
And so in honor of this tragic realization, I will post/publish A Satanic Proposal for the first time ever!
One day, maybe I’ll be as good as I was way back way (i.e. 3 years ago). You know, when I could stay home all day by myself and not feel that I was missing anything. Days when I could spend 20 hours watching movies, or tv, or listening to music, or God forbid – writing. Now I can barely stay home on a Saturday night without feeling like everyone judges me for not leaving, for feeling more comfortable and happy all by my pretty self. I know I’m supposed to want to be with people, doing stupid shit, making mistakes, blah blah blah, but really right now ALL I want to do, is watch The O.C. and work on my art thing and read and maybe even start (but never ever ever) finish a story.
Guess that’s the way it goes.
Not to be really sappy, but one day I really really hope someone loves me enough to chase after me as I leave them (although, truthfully, it’ll probably be the other way around since I have a painful habit of sticking everything out until the very very end).
Plan for next year when Margie and I share Estrogen Central (Birchwoods 007 at school):
1) Learn to drink whiskey
2) Watch really, really scary movies (although I have to get some guidance for this topic).
Basically, we’re going to be ourselves but to the extreme.
O.C. Quote of the Day
Seth: What is this music?
Ryan: Hey, do NOT insult Journey.
200mg later and I think I’ll go for another double-shot. We’ll see where that takes me. From 100 to 200, I’ve broken out the big noise canceling headphones, cranked up the volume, adjusted positions, fixed some more tea, and started write write writing to waste away yet another Buenos Aires night. Although, is it really wasting my life here if I’ve technically bridging the gap the currently exists between the me right now and the potential me that follows in the path of the great Argentine authors? Probably, but maybe (at least for now) I can convince myself that this ain’t the case. But, harder to convince myself of is that I’m not wasting my days. Today, I made it until almost 9pm before stepping out the door. And even then, I almost didn’t do it. Only after Joost offered empanadas as the prize for leaving, did I concede. The closest I got to social interaction today was between me and the black cat that watched as I struggled to hang my dripping wet (but very clean) sheet on the makeshift clothesline I hung out on the big patio a week after moving in. But I don’t feel bad about it. I don’t feel bad about anything and I think that might just be my problem. My apathy towards the increasing social anxiety I have is probably not a good thing. And yet, I just don’t give half a damn. Instead, I relish in it. Taking the day to plan my schedule for the Buenos Aires Festival Internacional de Cine Independiente, watch Blue Crush, and avoid the still too small to bother with stack of reading I’m supposed to be doing as part of my educación in San Andrés.
Today a kid at Reed overdosed on heroin, died, and the only thing I could think was “damn, my arch-enemy misspelled heroin.” I’m clearly going to Hell.
If I ever actually finish a story I start, it might be the one I started today. “Rolex Row” one in a series (apparently) of stories based on various locations spread throughout Argentina, but primarily just Buenos Aires oddities. Such as the street of just joyerías (read jewelry stores).
Espero que yo tenga suerte.
I also feel really sad/worried. UdeSA literally has one (1) lit class. So yeah, right now they are scrambling to figure out something for me otherwise I am f-u-c-k-e-d in a holy spectacular way! Also I need to sleep more, but I also want to spend time with people, but not really because I don’t really want too, but you know how it goes. Also, I think I have a crush, but I also think he can’t stand me… which, is most definitely something new. He’s also shorter than me, so hey mundo al reves… who knew. Finally, I just want to die right now and no one answers anything I send and that makes me feel invisible.
Something else I wrote. During the school year I had some free time…
So. I’m obviously now in Argentina. Been here for… 25 days now. Only 150ish left? I’m only updating as a way to bridge the gap between now and when I’ll actually be able to sleep before my 8am class tomorrow morning. Basically, I love Argentina. It is summer and I get to wear pretty clothes and look at pretty boys and walk all over this amazing beautiful HUGE city while eating the best food I’ve ever had. But I can’t help but feel really lonely a lot. Whatever, I’m sure it will go away when actual school starts and I have that to occupy my mind/cute boys with actual potential (!!) But it’s not that bad, I just get sad and have been a bit avoid-y lately.
Kim y Novak was playing “I’ve Been Thinking” when I got there on time before anyone else was at the bar. That made me real happy. Also making me happy:
- cute Colombian boys
- dancing all night
- walking everywhere
- suntanning in February (!!)
- being warm
- the idea of living in my own place next week (!!)
I know now that I’ll never date Hardie again. Things are different. I don’t need him anymore. Instead, I easily go two weeks without talking to him and I think just about nothing of it. And it’s nice to know that when I get back to MO in July there’s someone literally waiting for me.
Below is some awesome story I wrote when out of my mind on something. I believe it was Thanksgiving. All by myself…
Super story wrote under super circumstances, i.e. first Thanksgiving all alone. First 21+ concert in an almost empty, really sad Portland. Good times, though…
I hate where I’m at right now. I hate being in a state of perpetual limbo, living a life where I’m always waiting for the next leg to come along. Right now I’m just waiting until the semester is over, so I can drive home, spend time with my family, go to Vegas, then fly off to live in Argentina until the end of July. Then I’ll just be waiting until I finish college so I can do something real. Really, real is what I need now. I need a job that’s real, I need people that are real, I need a life that is real. But really, I’m just kind of sad right now. I just want someone to sing “All the Right Reasons” (and mean it) to me. Never too hard, but it just doesn’t seem like it will ever happen. Once again that breaks my heart. (But then again, what doesn’t?)
Title list for Close Your Legs, Cowgirl:
1) “Circle Like the Sun”
2) “Invisible”
3) “Close Your Legs, Cowgirl”
4) “Divine Interrogation”
5) “No Depression”
6) “Sirens”
7) “Jasper Johns”
One day, this’ll be my reality.
