sit and listen to the worms

the house on the hill, far after dark. stop here, this is where you can see it best. but not the french doors you'd love, you can't see them from this view.. there's a room where you could have an art studio. there's a drawing room that begs for guitars to be hung on the wall. oh you, look at the view, it's like a city. like a tiny city. look at those lights. it's like a real city, like one-eightieth of a new york city skyline. driving country roads in the dark...my palms aren't as sweaty as they were a month ago. it's still all "what's going on with the road"s and "i'm scared, i have to slow down"s and "it's so dark out here"s. but i don't think about a car crash anymore. not like a month ago when i couldn't even drive those roads and stay calm. if i make it there first, will you join me in heaven? two hands on the wheel at all times. can't man the ipod. downshift to fourth on the turns. especially in the rain. especially in the dark. spying out the roofs you wouldn't reach. always commenting on the view and how dark it is. always wanting to get out of the car and lay in the grass. it's impossible to find a place in the rain that doesn't smell like fish. err, like worms. "why is it that worms smell like fish and we use worms to catch fish?" you're talking about worms, and i have anger bubbling up right under the surface like the wine bubbling through the tiny hole in the cap of the pom glass. ya know wine looks like pomegranate juice. boy, how smart you've gotten. mind the speed bumps. don't cross the line. take this turn in fourth. i can't see the lines on the road in the rain. here's the bridge again! walk with me in the rain. hold the umbrella for me. i want to hear you whine. don't cross the line. wait for me. i can't move in this rain. i can't think in this humidity. don't talk about the future. have hope when there is none.

which will you love the best

how many times we can break the law today?

trespassing. loitering. public indecency. drinking and driving.

this is my last half hour of work at the store. i don't think i'll tear up about this, though it has been pretty unpredictable what'll make me upset. i leave next sunday. six days. so many goodbyes. a week of goodbyes.

i've been going to the movies with more frequency than perhaps ever in my life, and unfortunately i haven't wanted to see even one of the movies. not totally really. i have drank wine every day for more days than i can count. maybe twenty. maybe thirty. i had a going away party. i've pandered off all giveaway belongings to friends, which is a really great feeling. moving out furniture and handing over houseplants. the mug you always drank out of. the cd you always envied. another poster off the wall. you'll need something to remember me by. took polaroids and photos of hamtramck disneyland, drove downtown and around belle isle yesterday in the gorgeous weather. ate downtown for perhaps what will be the very last time. this week i have to pack, actually. actually pack...because i haven't. just barely. i have to decide what clothes i will live with and live without. there are tattoo plans, there's a wedding, there are so many goodbyes, and there's driving away. there's me saying, "i'll never do this again" and then the "maybe i'll never see you again."

you meant everything.

i finally finished the purse, and it is night, so the photos are horrendous. it took so long to actually work up once i got the idea/pattern in my head that i take back ever wanting to have a crocheted handbag line. i did base this on an interweave crochet pattern of a purse that i did a few months ago [i posted pictures of it]...the shape kinda and the spike thing. i did this in cheapo sugar & cream yarn [yarn totalled less than $5 for sure] and i dropped down a hook size or two. i did this on an F...but i think if i could go back and do it again, i would drop it down to an E even [i think that original interweave pattern called for a G..? i think??], a trick i learned from a lady down at cityknits in detroit to make your work sturdier. for a purse, especially, ya know? what i didn't like about the original purse in the end was that it was too "stretchy," like if you put your cell phone, wallet, keys, &tc. in it, it got a little weighed down/stretched out. so if you drop down a couple hook sizes, it will make the whole situation way tighter, i.e., sturdier. yeah...i'd probably go down to an E to make it even sturdier. i'm considering making a baby version/companion to it. just to work it up. i want to make it long and skinny, but that's just not practical for me. i envision making a great yoga mat carrier/bag, but i don't practice yoga soo.... maybe i will make a wine bottle holder. aren't there restaurants in nyc that are byob? laugh. i kinda like the idea. i also love that i worked it up in sugar & cream cotton so it is totally washable. you can see that it's pretty big...use my flannel gnome pajamas as a size guide.

so i'm having a ryan adams phase, and no, i've never had one before. it's weird. i can't tell how i feel about it. it's not helping the "stare-at-the-wall-blankly" thing i have going on right now. i must be waiting for something. maybe it's the big heartbreak. ok. maybe it's the big moment when i get motivated. i lost something this weekend that was recently given to me, and when i realized this today, i had use all my uhm strength to hold back from crying about it. the time i believe is still to come. we drank wine in the movies yesterday, smuggling it in my thermos and a POM bottle. genius, eh?? laugh.

i should be the opposite of bored right now.

so this is how it happens.

red curry with coconut milk, bean thread noodles [worms?], broccoli, mushrooms, sprouts [worms?], fresh basil
[i hate cooking for one, i never eat it]
i have no idea what to do with myself. i'll be living in brooklyn at this very moment in two weeks. i have so much to do i think, and i have no idea where to start. i'm just wasting time. i finally put my car up for sale today. i can't even bring myself to make a list. or make plans with anyone really, filling in my calendar for the next two weeks. i don't know what to do. maybe i could just grab all of this stuff and hold it in my arms. maybe that's what i'm waiting to do. all i can think of are the ideas of people and place. does place matter? do people matter? what matters? what matters more? present and future/present or future? do we really have the present if we have no future? what if we have no idea about the future, then what becomes of the present? oh i know. drinking too much wine every night, writing about nothing, not laughing enough, staring at the wall, getting nothing done. oh yeah. that.

i'll wear your clothes while we're both high

it's like we chase organic wine like something..stalk it like some rare bird. it was one of those nights you sleep but you swear you didn't sleep at all. smashed on the couch; it fucks up both shoulders. too fucked up to rub your back. every time i opened my eyes, i swear the same ryan adams song was on. i had a dream about living in brooklyn except it was la, and two people got shot near where i lived, and i walked around worried a gun was pointed at my back. i've felt that before. i woke and recounted it. there's something so comforting in saying "i just had a really bad dream" to someone the moment you escape it. but before i woke when i was running from the guns, i was on the bus trying on my new shoes [ok so officially if you dream of a pair of shoes you want, you should just buy them], and i saw someone i knew, and then i realized i was going the wrong direction on the bus. err, i was on the wrong bus. whatever. i feel like this might be a little foreshadow? that's how it felt in the dream.

so i guess i haven't been making much eye contact with people, but hey...i think i'm going to try to start actually dealing with/internalizing [really i'm acting so unlike myself lately] everything that's going on. with moving and other things. i didn't mean for it to all happen like this, but...this is the way it is happening. time is passing, and this is what is taking place; this is how it all goes down in the month of march in the year 2007. i move away in fifteen days. i never thought it would happen like this. i've never thought of the past, present and future so much. i can't really explain it.

i cooked salmon [note: bake salmon in a foil packet and not just out in the open...375 for 40 mins or so] and asparagus for my mom tonight, and it's one of those things that won't be able to happen too many more times. i have this thing lately of talking about what we'll do one day, and what we'll never do again. maybe it's blackmail. it's hard to predict what you'll really miss. it's hard to predict much of anything. 1/2% accuracy, ya know? i'm getting another tattoo; i never thought i'd be doing that again.

i have a lot of little bits of nothing really to say. but she helped me understand tonight that i need to be talking about all of these things, as i really have not been expressing much of how i feel about what's going on.

this heaven is a bad dream.

arrived yesterday in spring, in rain, after the type of day you skip school to have: comparing detroit to new orleans, antiques, juice, food, restraint, coffee shop for tea, record store. it felt like ducks floating down a river, all in a row.

left in that kind of wet, heavy snow, squeezing between the school buses, inching along the freeway in the morning black [morning you truly do have to convince yourself of], cars all twisting and bobbing north and east, meandering somewhere in the false morning.

state of hope

"does this album remind you of me?"
"no."
"then why don't you put it on so it can get ruined too."

we never talk about what we say when the lights are out

talks all the time of permanence and impermanence. i always understood permanence better than you; i always believed in it. whispering about why to remember; and to counter, even smaller whispers of why to forget. after twenty days i will forget. you want me to forget. i want to forget. you'll never forget, i'll never forget; and talks of permanence that will force remembering. i don't think you want to remember.

spring forward and i move away from all of this in twenty days.

i didn't really lose you, i just lost it for a while

so much is going on it's hard to follow. lots of phone calls, tons of plans. kicking around the idea of getting drunk every night before i leave. getting drunk and acting stupid on a monday night, somehow rising before the alarm, not hungover [seriously wtf], working in the 7am hour, trader joe's, work for 8 hours, work at home, get drunk, make pon poms. shit's a mess right now and all i can do is go to trader joe's, and they're out of my wine until tomorrow. organic wine is the answer to getting drunk on wine. yeah i might say it 50 times. i have so many people to call back and talk to for an hour that i have to make a list. so much hanging out to do i'll never have time to pack. i really don't want to resort to packing parties.

alright i made it almost until 2...time for subway. or maybe thai. blahhhhhhh.

tunnel to china

so it happened, and fast. i found a sublet. i'm officially moving to brooklyn on april first [this is where that highly-inflamed sense of event thing is going off like red flags! sirens! going off in my mind! like the scene of an accident! perhaps it's more like a highly-inflamed anticipation of event, really let's be serious here]. a party is already in place. logisitics [driving, not flying; new desk in box, air mattress to start] quickly came into focus. in twenty-six days i'll be in greenpoint, sleeping on an air mattress, wondering what to set a lamp on.


otherwise. i have no idea how i lived without organic wine. you really should try it...without those damned sulfites, wine is not sleepiness-inducing or headache-spell-casting.

oh we love to lose our minds

rabbit rabbit. i remember this date...no, a day, the day, the day exactly two years and five months ago. it was a reference from which to count time; i remember noting when both a year and two years had passed. and now again, the days are numbered. 30 days.

it's thursday morning but it feels like a sunday morning where i again woke up too early and feel restless. i never notice the sound of the trains here but they're less than a block away. will i live by trains in 30 days? they've always been around, somewhere; i recall them 10 years ago...the same trains cutting through the telephone, narrowing the distance of miles and a river of separation. but then i recall counting time, and i remember hines drive in the fall with the trees so bright like jewels...i swear there was even a sapphire in there if you squinted, i remember being snowed in and fighting and sleeping on her couch, i remember the room upstairs, the one of near-sin, with its tiny bed, and i remember another bed so very well i could draw or paint it with words or brush strokes, i remember taking woodward alone downtown to the show on october first, and i remember the panic in the voices of my friends, and i remember the next day, and the night, and the next and the next. i remember opening a gift in a parking lot after an abdandoned departure and bursting uncontrollably into tears upon seeing finality scratched into the surface. i remember drawing music history on a scrap of paper and noting internally that i would be the only one to ever follow such a thing. and i remember the sound of the drums in that song i replayed and replayed...going in circles, almost yearning, kneading...then hard and almost off-time, like the feeling of being awaken with a kiss in the middle of the night, trying to get your bearings. i remember being on one side of a scale.

sentimentality lately.