There are certain people I have come to terms with in my life that I realize I need. All the people I need, I realize I need them for different reasons. The yen and yang of it all these are the people I keep trying to run from and destroy the relationships with. Goddamn lonliness is a ridiculous beast. I could very nicely put this in story form, or I could drunkly just list it. I'll do the latter.
Heike- My best friend from Berlin who has such hate for Americans and life, but desperately wants all she hates. She is the one who constantly reminds me of who I am, strangely. Our upbringing and beliefs are so different but without her I'd rot.
Margaret- The definition of vivacious. When I have Margaret, the Margaret I love... she makes me feel invincible, I want to tell her always(but I'm embarrased to embarress her) how amazing she is. What an amazing writer. It gives me goose bumps. She's always game, for anything interesting.
Jason- I love this person so insanely so, not in a love thingy, but a love that I could never explain. I absolutely could not live without this man. I make up lies about him merely because I can't understand why it is I feel so attached to him. It's awful and it makes me a monster, but in some strange universe it makes day to day missing a friend bearable.
Vic- This is the lady that when I sit to draw a cartoon involving myself I always draw myself like Vic. This cartoon is half me and half Vic, it's a girl sitting at a drafting table drawing and collaging things with the cat sitting on the table next to her, and of course a mountain of ciggy's. She's always making her and her cat laugh at whatever subtly hilarious project she is working on. I love Vic and her style and taste and intellegence that makes every conversation so alive and fun.
Megan- I wish I could write a way to perfectly explain how I see this one. Someone who has seen some pretty dark moments and because of the way her brain works it's like she's caught in some horrible night terror and constantly relives these moments, causing her to react to present situations with all the fear and hurt from her past situations. However if you give her a comfortable place to be she's a butterfly. This free spirited creature who you can have amazing life changing moments with.
Mag- The true meaning of unique. A beautiful creature who can see colors on a black and white wall. Someone who could probably train her cat to talk just through caring and believing in her cat. One of the most truely amazing and excitng artist's I have ever seen.
Al- You always feel safe around Al. Safe with your hopes and fears and friendship. Maker of great ideas.
Michael- Slick.
Jeremy Sue- My brother and my friend. I'm terrified for him to know me but want nothing more.
Lisa B- A breath of frsh air.
Nay nay- Too much to even write.
Alice- For the love of god woman, be you! One of the greatest friends and persons I will ever meet.
Chan- So godamned stubbornly smart.
Sean- The most smart, talented person I have known. Too fucking scared of himself and life to be so.
Dyaln- My best girlfriend, and he'll never know how serious I was about that.
Mandy- I wish I saw her more. Amazing.
Ange-Ange Gard
Andi
Andie
Dave
Darren
Sayra
Caila
Dog
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Friday, October 21, 2005
NOTHING
What the hell have I been doing?
Sitting In The Nothing Factory
with the sweet memories of Winky.
Instead of coming up with crafty ideas and full stories I have spent the last month with little flashes of ideas I have thought were funny in my life just replaying them over and over again in my head. With no real meat to the matter to apply to anything of any substance at all. I believe I am losing my touch. On second hand maybe I'm really on to something here. By something I mean an enormous nothing. The kind of nothing that consumes your whole existence. You know like that movie from when I was younger called "The Never Ending Story", ya' that one. You see,though, I'm not one of the characters from the movie who is trying to do anything about it no I'm more of one of the small characters giving in to the nothing like the rock biter or the bat lovin' freak. Nothing interesting like Morla the ancient wise turtle, or Atreo the handsome 13 something year old charging on in his brave warrior way, I couldn't even claim to be the kid reading the story in his gradeschool attic taking a whole night to eat one PB&J, such control. I have given in to my nothing.
I used to draw a sinister character named Dr. Pincusion and his Nothing Factory. He tormented people with nothing. He scared the living snot out of children and adults with... NOTHING. Then one day Kapow and her Killer Daisies showed Dr. Pincusion and his Nothing Factory something. Something. That's all it it took because once you have let the nothing consume you, something is bound to kill you. These little flashes in my head, little flashes of nothing, have taken over my whole creative being. I can't seem to do anything but think about them again and again and again and again. I wish I had the abaility to say., "the reason I'm acting so odd right now is because I am upset about the this or the that", or "I'm really upset because Lou didn't make my turkey sandwich right" what do you exspect from a cat. However, I have no excuse... nothing. Instead I have this little nothing popparazzi and it's flashbulbs putting me in the classic deer in head lights position. Get dressed and face the day, or stand in your living room naked staring blankly at the front door diping your fingers in mayonaise waiting for the UPS man to deliver your future wraped in paper doilies. Nothing.
I keep thinking about this old dishwasher from a job of mine in the past. He was from El Salvador his name was Jose. Which I used to like to call out like Jerry Lewis whining "ladies"... "Jose". Which he would then come into the porno/travel plastered post carded walls of the dining area with Roy Rogers hangin' over the bathroom eating a delectable burger and all of its fake wood paneling glory. He would moan "ohh Winky" then start thrusting his empty bus tub on the counter getting out all his beautiful youth knocking the customers plates of food off the counter onto the floor under their foot rest on their stools. Jose didn't speak very well english, kinda' like I type, so I used to teach him really good phrases like, "hey lady your breakfast burrito looks mighty fine but do you mind if I polish my dick on your fingernail while you eat?", and I'm sure all the things he taught me in his own language were just the same. That was the beauty of it all. Anyway, one night I closed the restaurant with the cook, and good friend of mine T Dog, and we decided to check our garbage situation. Sitting on top of the pile was this filthy plaster cock-n-balls. We immediately re-unlocked the restaurant and sat at the counter thinking of the hyjinks this cock-n-balls could ensue. It then turned into this beautiful story involving Jose and his tooth. You see Jose had this perfect mouth of teeth except for his right front tooth stuck straight out of his mouth, to the point that he could never stop smiling because he couldn't close his mouth around his tooth(don't worry I hear he has since fixed it through our beautiful american dental system). So the story went like this....
Cigar, the uncle of our 300lb. black cook from Cabrini Green Phyllis who slept with all our delivery drivers in dry storage, who got his name from homelessly walking around all day with 20 cigars sticking out of his hat.. would come to the restaurant at dawn. He would do his usual ask Winky to put on her theme song then dance with the mop for everyone's pleasure, but here's the twist. On this particular day Jose would come from the back and place his plaster cock-n-balls on the counter stool closest to the kitchen, then he would very choreogragpically(my own word) take his time sitting on the cock (inserted into his bum of course)spinning around on the stool while his tooth grew out the front of his face. When he stood the tooth would go back. So he would proceed down the whole line of stools, doing the same, out the front door while Cigar or Uncle, to those of us who knew and loved him, danced with the mop to "Winky's Theme". Cigar, mind you is all of 6 feet 6 inches of pure muscle. Like the dopey guy from "Of Mice Of Men", not knowing his own strength breaking things, people, trucks, buildings and such left and right. He is also unhealthily obsessed with an 18 year old polish girl from Zakapownni, a heathen polish joint down the street. This nothing dances through my head. It didn't happen it's nothing.
There are many more nothings I will touch upon I'm sure but now I want dumplings from Chinatown.
Sitting In The Nothing Factory
with the sweet memories of Winky.
Instead of coming up with crafty ideas and full stories I have spent the last month with little flashes of ideas I have thought were funny in my life just replaying them over and over again in my head. With no real meat to the matter to apply to anything of any substance at all. I believe I am losing my touch. On second hand maybe I'm really on to something here. By something I mean an enormous nothing. The kind of nothing that consumes your whole existence. You know like that movie from when I was younger called "The Never Ending Story", ya' that one. You see,though, I'm not one of the characters from the movie who is trying to do anything about it no I'm more of one of the small characters giving in to the nothing like the rock biter or the bat lovin' freak. Nothing interesting like Morla the ancient wise turtle, or Atreo the handsome 13 something year old charging on in his brave warrior way, I couldn't even claim to be the kid reading the story in his gradeschool attic taking a whole night to eat one PB&J, such control. I have given in to my nothing.
I used to draw a sinister character named Dr. Pincusion and his Nothing Factory. He tormented people with nothing. He scared the living snot out of children and adults with... NOTHING. Then one day Kapow and her Killer Daisies showed Dr. Pincusion and his Nothing Factory something. Something. That's all it it took because once you have let the nothing consume you, something is bound to kill you. These little flashes in my head, little flashes of nothing, have taken over my whole creative being. I can't seem to do anything but think about them again and again and again and again. I wish I had the abaility to say., "the reason I'm acting so odd right now is because I am upset about the this or the that", or "I'm really upset because Lou didn't make my turkey sandwich right" what do you exspect from a cat. However, I have no excuse... nothing. Instead I have this little nothing popparazzi and it's flashbulbs putting me in the classic deer in head lights position. Get dressed and face the day, or stand in your living room naked staring blankly at the front door diping your fingers in mayonaise waiting for the UPS man to deliver your future wraped in paper doilies. Nothing.
I keep thinking about this old dishwasher from a job of mine in the past. He was from El Salvador his name was Jose. Which I used to like to call out like Jerry Lewis whining "ladies"... "Jose". Which he would then come into the porno/travel plastered post carded walls of the dining area with Roy Rogers hangin' over the bathroom eating a delectable burger and all of its fake wood paneling glory. He would moan "ohh Winky" then start thrusting his empty bus tub on the counter getting out all his beautiful youth knocking the customers plates of food off the counter onto the floor under their foot rest on their stools. Jose didn't speak very well english, kinda' like I type, so I used to teach him really good phrases like, "hey lady your breakfast burrito looks mighty fine but do you mind if I polish my dick on your fingernail while you eat?", and I'm sure all the things he taught me in his own language were just the same. That was the beauty of it all. Anyway, one night I closed the restaurant with the cook, and good friend of mine T Dog, and we decided to check our garbage situation. Sitting on top of the pile was this filthy plaster cock-n-balls. We immediately re-unlocked the restaurant and sat at the counter thinking of the hyjinks this cock-n-balls could ensue. It then turned into this beautiful story involving Jose and his tooth. You see Jose had this perfect mouth of teeth except for his right front tooth stuck straight out of his mouth, to the point that he could never stop smiling because he couldn't close his mouth around his tooth(don't worry I hear he has since fixed it through our beautiful american dental system). So the story went like this....
Cigar, the uncle of our 300lb. black cook from Cabrini Green Phyllis who slept with all our delivery drivers in dry storage, who got his name from homelessly walking around all day with 20 cigars sticking out of his hat.. would come to the restaurant at dawn. He would do his usual ask Winky to put on her theme song then dance with the mop for everyone's pleasure, but here's the twist. On this particular day Jose would come from the back and place his plaster cock-n-balls on the counter stool closest to the kitchen, then he would very choreogragpically(my own word) take his time sitting on the cock (inserted into his bum of course)spinning around on the stool while his tooth grew out the front of his face. When he stood the tooth would go back. So he would proceed down the whole line of stools, doing the same, out the front door while Cigar or Uncle, to those of us who knew and loved him, danced with the mop to "Winky's Theme". Cigar, mind you is all of 6 feet 6 inches of pure muscle. Like the dopey guy from "Of Mice Of Men", not knowing his own strength breaking things, people, trucks, buildings and such left and right. He is also unhealthily obsessed with an 18 year old polish girl from Zakapownni, a heathen polish joint down the street. This nothing dances through my head. It didn't happen it's nothing.
There are many more nothings I will touch upon I'm sure but now I want dumplings from Chinatown.
Friday, October 14, 2005
I know I should be writing but.......
There really is no good reason as to why I haven't written in so long. I could blame it on the German for visiting this summer or the man I fell for in the last part of the German invasion or the fact that the second it was official I was someones girlfriend I got so sick I ended up in the hospital or that one of my pill poppin' outta work friends is constantly in a fit of tears convinced my new boyfriend is a junkie or the fact that my new boyfriend has moved into my house because the man who escaped from Mexico after killing a man who lived with him held him at gunpoint for several hours or the fact that I got ringworm form trying to help a homeless person with a very strange rash or the fact that my friend whom I am the godmother of her child calls daily with a new speech about how selffish I am because I don't call every holiday, occaion, affair, or day at that matter(I'm sure I'm worthless now because I didn't extend my warmest gratitude to them for Columbus day) or maybe I haven't written because everyone keeps harping on me to be more creative "paint something", "sew a puppet", "write something", "Why aren't you doing comedy" throwing a million mediums my way saying things like "the proof is in the pudding", well shit I can't make pudding when my recipe is all screwed up I'm just making brown soup here, or maybe it's because my ex just got married and all anyone wants to do is talk to me about how upset I must truely be when the fact of the matter is I'm too selffish to give a flying hootenanny. Or maybe it's because my best friend spent a good chunk of the summer here from Germany and I realized in her visit I've been hiding from myself for a long time now, or maybe it's because I met this guy who has completely swept me off my feet and was so great to me when I was so sick I wasn't sure if I was going to make it or maybe it's really hard for me to get my fingers around why it bothers me so much that my good friends see my boyfriend as yet another potetial heartbreak for me because all signs point to him being a fucking wreck and it scares the shit out of me, because I do love him or it could be the fact that my boyfriends friends don't believe that this escaped hoodlum form Mexico is doing anything wrong and now my man has lost jobs, friends, his home and car because of it.. and having ringworm most of the summer surely could effect a person because it's really gross or maybe when I forgot my god childs birthday it really made me realize how self absorbed I can become and this little sweet baby is the one who suffers from my lack of priorities then again it could simply be the fact that I am not being myself and I am not doing anything creative and I am just droning on and on and on doing anything I can to keep myself from doing what it is I actually want to do, when you fear yourself there is nowhere to go but down, or maybe it's simply put I was really affected by my ex getting married and not affected by the reasons you would think it's just a whole sleuth of emotions and the things that were said to me during all of my confusion with it didn't make me feel any better about the situation. I am a 29 year old female living in Los Angeles. I finacially support my mother, boyfriend and myself. I try and take on everyones problems but in return I realize I'm not a camel and I do things, go out of my way, to fuck shit up. I'm really tired of being a bartender and know damn well I am the only person who can get myself out of this sitution. My boyfriend has been asleep for 37 hours straight, I don't know exactly what to make of that... I guess he's tired and I guess I'm stir crazy. Bottom line, I will start writing again but until I get some things straight with me there all going to turn out like this so maybe I will take some more time before I attempt to write anything else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)