Knotty Thoughts

thinking under the influence

climb the water tower April 11, 2010

A lot of well formed habits make up my day to day routine.
There are fifteen stone stairs followed by twenty-one full steps to get to the front door of my apartment with a four-stair/one-step set leading up to those. Volume settings must remain on any odd number at all times. When doing two loads of laundry I have to put the quarters in both machines simultaneously, same with pressing the setting buttons, then I always start with the machine on the right when unloading. My point is, there are certain objects associated with my obsessive routines that have become almost important as the acts themselves. My ipod is the number one item I have on my person at any times of any travel beyond my home where there is the threat of not having quality music to listen to for any period of time. I walk a lot, skate a little, adventure at night and a soundtrack seems absolutely necessary for each endeavor.


There is also a pair of gloves (fingerless, black & gray and extending to the elbow!) my aunt gave me for Christmas that I have found myself strangely infatuated with. They are always on my hands, even after I take off my survival jackets. I fucking wear them to shows, play beer pong in them, sew in them, play piano in them.

I ordinarily wear them while typing, but I am not wearing them now.
I do not know where they are. SIGH. I lost them at some point last night, I am hoping heavily they’re in my buddy Paolini’s car or at the restaurant or just hiding in the depths of my room. In any case, I find myself feeling guilty in mourning their absence because, after all, they are only a silly object. Still, though, my arms are sad and hope their warmers return some how.

Of late, I have been consuming fairly decent meals in comparison to my usual lot of metabolic encouragement. Dinners have included a lot of blueberries, potatoes, rice and beer. Now that I put it in words, it doesn’t seem like a healthy diet, but it’s an actual improvement on last week’s dining. There are breakfasts of apples and bananas at times, plus extensive amounts of water.


While on the topic of habits…I find it extraordinary how they become, almost by definition, a muscle memory of an action as opposed to one intentionally sought to complete. Many of mine tend to go unnoticed by my conscious self so I’m always surprised when I open my birth control pills to find that the day’s pill has, indeed, been ingested and all is well.

Good job brain, keep it up!

Today is the second of of a three day workless weekend for this human. I slept in yesterday, a rare feat! It impeded my efficiency a little but I managed to accomplish quite a bit regardless. This morning, my mind will not allow additional slumber which just as well considering there is so much sewing and cleaning to be done! Then there is the song writing and dog bathing and hair cutting and drinking and smoking! So I thought it best to make an early start of it all. Though I do really enjoy the two jobs I have at the bridal shop and hosting karaoke in a couple Pasco bars.

Dresses by day, tequila/sound equipment/tips by night!


I am watching Bronson the dog twitch his little feet while he sleeps and Sean Connery is passed out cozy on the floor. I adore these little creatures and Sunday is family day! Which means walks for Bronson, cat nip and combing for Sean, a clean tank and filter for Norman (turtle). The fact that there are people who don’t have pets to enhance their lives baffles me!

In fact, while sitting on an idling bus at the transit center a few days back I was observing a young puppy and it’s owner. This probably three-month-old animal was the most jolly little bulk of fuzz, happily romping at the heel of his leash holder and responding merrily to any requests of stopping or sitting. I began to think of Bronson and how I wish I would have taken more steps to strengthen his training (and thus, our bond) when he was younger and more eager to please. I wonder if it feels the same way to be a human parent watching a new mother with her child; cure-less pangs of regret due to the most selfish and personal bits of one’s own, mostly unavoidable, characteristic nature. In any case, I know my relationship with my animals is strongly in tact, doubt just has a way of possessing the most effective forms of ego-bashing osmosis.

I call them my puppikittikins!



Part of my adventures yesterday involved a trip to the grocery store to get a bus pass and a few apples. While in line, the gay rude girl (LOC!) in me couldn’t help but stare at a woman I had seen several times already during my current trip in the store. I was staring because I loved the gray of her hair. It’s exactly what I wish my hair would be, colour-wise. I eventually mustered up the impoliteness to ask her if I could take a photo of her head before leaving the store, she agreed!

This image really doesn’t do it justice.

My knees have not been treated favourably in the past few weeks. They were consumed by massive, mosh pit induced bruises for several painful days, aching at the joints due to four inch heels and an extensive amount of walking. They are currently skinned and re-bruised following yesterday’s graceful public portrayal of myself eating shit on the busy sidewalk while skateboarding. The real victim of this little accident, however, was my pants! I wear these damn things everyday, they’re wonderful, perfectly broken in and serve my survival function to near exact desire. The denim has been violated by pavement now and it’s only a matter of time before they become unfit for wear in visible situations. I will have to start searching for the pair that will eventually replace these ones.

Until then, larga vida a los pantalones!

 

will you be my beetle? December 7, 2009

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I’ve always been fond of beetles. When I was a child living in Canada I remember riding home from a family day at the lake. My younger brother and I would have water beetles stowed away in little containers of water, vowing to care for them. The little guys would swim about, dive and swirl, sit delicate on the surface. We never did find out what they ate, though. I regret our failure to keep them living. [sad]

My desk is a mess.

Something big happened today. Upon waking I instantly felt the need for some variety of drastic change. Considering the few things I have control of, the task of drama fell to my hair. For two and a half years I have adored my dreadlocks. Warm, beautiful, original. As I thought of cutting them off, my heart beat faster and I understood that too much of my identity was wrapped in them. I like being the weird girl. The girl on the bus that people look at and wonder what sort of interesting things must be floating about my mind. I should be able to be her without looking the part. So I chopped them off.

It took several hours, metal combs and a lot of oil. I wanted to salvage as much length as possible so I would have some room to play with what’s left. NORMAL HAIR. I will be getting it cut tomorrow, professionally. I’m thinking very short. My ears are so cold, but I haven’t had a heavy headache all day and everything feels light and silly. The reactions of my roommates were minimal, barely existent. Good.

At this point in the day the roof of my mouth burned. It had been cut to hell by the dollar frozen pizza I had eaten for dinner. Eating canned pineapple rings for dessert probably wasn’t a good choice. The citrusy goodness stung at my open wounds. Totally worth it. I love canned fruits and vegetables. I’m not sure why that is, maybe it’s because I’m always so broke. More likely it’s because they’re are so convenient, stackable, easily controlled and the variety is stimulating.

A rather exciting prospect presented itself to me yesterday. It’s keeping me motivated and thriving. Something to work toward. Lauren and I will have a life of muffins, smoke and art. Fashion and like minds. This seems to be exactly what I need. The potential for symbiosis exhilarates me.

Today, I appreciate everything.
My morning, afternoon and evening have lacked fashion. I will remedy that now, I’ve got to get sewing. I sent out more resumes today. I think something good will come along soon. Maybe something cool, where I get to dress nice. I’d love to be an office assistant, or something along those lines. The new hair will help me get there. God damn, it’s cold. Bundle up!