vengeance

I've been away a long time and maybe you were wondering about me.
I say "you" like you're there, like you're nusteer or ems or someone else who has been quietly lurking or that I wish they were quietly lurking.
I always do that, don't I? Walking away and then coming back to you when I really need you, when there's no where else.
My kitten just sat in the open window through a hail storm and I love him for it.
Here at this house we are losing our minds. All three of us physically ill and lonely.
Despondent.
Angry, betrayed. We thought we were building a life, we thought that the flowers we planted were flowers we could watch bloom but I'm just going to be turning them into the dirt like the blooms had passed their glory days already and were rotting brown against the dirt.
The paint on the wall still peels away instead of singing with the fresh paint fresh that gives me migraines.
These windows stay naked and watch from the outside at night.
Bardo Pond, The Melvins, loud noises and movies in which the woman dies to atone.
These are the things dragging me forward now.
If you can make us cry...
They said, "we didn't know you had real feelings but you were crying." I said, I want you to think of it more as my anger leaking out of my face.
I'm rubbing my eyes trying to get the dullness out but it stays.
But it stays.
On myspace, they ask "do you trust other people easily" and last week I would have thought, well... it gets easier every day. I have been letting people in and have new friends and
now
it's all
gone.

"the ground will be soaked through with blood and from the tops of the black towers of hate and the word vengeance will ring clear like the bell toll at the last hour.


beware."


I wish I could have a show.
Hang words in a gallery with jugs of cheap wine and plastic cups.
And people could marvel at the words, whisper ... "oh this is her dark period, this kerning is so intense here, see how she uses "black" and "tower" next to each other,
to call to mind the smoldering remains of the orcs?

the show would look like this:

the ground will

be soaked

through with

blood

and

from
the

black towers

of
hate

the word

VENGEANCE

will ring clear


like

the bell toll
at

the

last


hour:

BEWARE.

movin'

Well, at the beginning of the month I moved in with Michael on Westcott Street...
I'm realizing now, after weeks of exhausting social interaction and comings and goings of many loud people... Michael and I are really hermits and should just stay that way because we're happy like that!
Our roommate Joe Mama, while a nice guy, is super social all the time and his friends tend to be bone heads who can only talk about like, beating the shit out of people, the hardcore scene circa 1999 or girls, in the most horrendous terms.
I like most of them on a one on one basis, but you get them all together and I'll give it about 15 mins before that time that kids put the dog (named PANZER)'s balls in his mouth. Hardly enlightening stuff.
Everyone once in a while something hilarious or worth while will come up but they're so used to just trying to out piss each other that it's very tiring.
I'm exhausted.
There is also a large male ego living upstairs, with a need to be right. I think, more accurately he thinks everyone else is wrong.
Blah. I'm just tired from it and ranting a bit.
I've been around ALL the time because I've been out on disability from work because I injured my hand.
This is the stupidest story ever, so of course I will flesh it out for you here on the blog.
The girls of our apartment (me, Brittany on the second floor and Brooke on the third) with the help of Brooke's husband Josh are going into Garden Mode and putting together plant boxes to grow some veggies for the summer. Brittany takes her cats out on leashes and they hang out while we're all hanging out so I decided to take Sir Edward Teller, our youngest kitten and my Chosen One outside on our harness and leash set up. He's kind of high strung but fairly well dis positioned. He was tied to this metal wash tub that we were putting trash in and he went to chase after something and the tub shifted. He freaked out when he heard the noise and started running around in circles, all the while pulling the tub a little bit every time and scaring himself further. He was doing these crazy flips in the air so I got a hold of him and was carrying him into the house when he turned around and bit my hand.
It was one of the most incredibly painful things that has ever happened to me, and I just was sort of staring at it for a few seconds. I managed to call my boyfriend, and the two of us just stared at it. I washed it off, and it immediately started swelling up. It wasn't really bleeding and Broke (training to be a nurse) wrapped it up for me and we went about the rest of the day normally. I was exhausted so I went to bed early and realized that the pain from my hand was almost paralyzing and that it had swollen up to more than double its normal size. The next morning I woke up to go to class and realized it was hospital time.
A few hours later, I had been lectured on how dirty cats were, pumped full of antibiotics through an IV and received a tetanus shot. (still not fun, 20 years later). I was not happy but I thought that was the end of the story.
The next day, the swelling and redness had expanded past the line the PA had drawn on my hand at prompt care with the strict instructions to return if there was ANY sign of the redness or swelling going past it.
More IV antibiotics, and an ex ray, and an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon because they thought for sure that the infection had gotten into the bone.
Mean whilst my hand is literally some of the worst pain I have ever experienced and I am taking antibiotics and 800mg Ibuprofen and Tylenol 3 (which is giving me roaring migraines) and sleeping all day. Edward is loving all this mom time.
The ortho said that I had most likely partially severed a tendon and put me in one of those half cast deals with strict instructions to do nothing NOTHING with my hand or my tendon would completely snap.
Here I will remind you that this is from a CAT BITE.
Amazing, but true.
So I did the cast thing for a few days, and believe it or not I got really sick of not being able to do anything for myself. I couldn't even eat Ramen noodles.
I took the cast off but currently am still on disability. Which is cool and lame at the same time. It's giving me time to get my school work done, yes. But it has also been the 70s and 80s all week, which has pretty much kept me really busy doing NOTHING and BBQing.
I'm supposed to go back to work part time for a few weeks, but I'm looking for another job right now that will pay a little bit more so I can work less next year.
I'm HOPING that I will be able to find some kind of co-op type job that will involve farming and urban farming, because I'm way into that idea right now and would love to spend my summer out in the sun doing some physical labor and learning something valuable rather than spending my time inside a cubicle (that is not even MINE) and worrying about stupid work drama.
(side note: I went in to work today to get my disability status adjusted and apparently the rumor was that I was out due to a spider bite... awesome... remind me to use my spidey sense next time I'm there....)
Wow. I can tell I'm procrastinating because I'm SURE this post is longer than both the story I'm supposed to be reading and the paper I'm supposed to be writing.
Peace out.

Thurs Dec 20th 2007

oh, just go away.

Here it is the truth.
No one picked me up but me.
No one fixes you if you say no. No one fixes you if you say yes.
It just happens you just have to make it happen.
I'm finding that i really don't know anything, that I have to go back and re-read all the books. That I remember everything but it's so jumbled. There are big holes. Sometimes I say things and they are just wrong. But I can't tell because for years I've just been taking this stuff in and just shoving it in there, like, thinking that that was going to be okay. Like I would remember your name AND your face, together at the same time. It's like I have Alzheimers now. Like, sometimes it's just blackness and sometimes it's still 1941. Sometimes my sentences have all the correct words but none of the correct syntax.
Dear Miss D, I'm wondering if you have found the same thing.
People say when you stop, you go directly back to where you started. Which i guess is true, but I was never there. I was a child, and I have all the experience now. I say, "when I was doing xxx" and people look at me like, how old are you really? Have I aged? I look the same. Less sallow. Plumped up. Not so grey, less smeared make up. Doesn't cry violently but it seeps out now. Like, I'm leaking. Miss D do you find it all leaks out?
I take dayquill and it hurts. I eat too much sugar and it hurts. I get the shakes, the fear.
Like, if I go back I'll die for sure.
It's an erasing time. It's reckoning.
This next year will be all apologies. Like, everything I can do now is an apology. Like, they will follow me around forever.
So, I'm sorry.
These are my own twelve steps, with 10 removed.
1)There is a problem. It is mine and not yours.
2)I'm very sorry.
1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,2,2,2,2