scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

30.4.04

i always get dizzy when i cry.

with george we had some idea, you know, okay, he has cancer, shit happens, it had been a possibility - it's always better when you can prepare your psyche beforehand - and it was what, a fucking month and a half ago ... and i got nothin. i'm floored. i have to keep this link. and this one too. fuck april. shit always goes down in fucking april. eliot knew what the fuck he was talking about. i fucking hate eliot. not even emily dickinson, robert frost - they're nothing - fuck eliot. fuck eliot. nothing.

but something, something about this is healthy, something is working through, something is getting this fucking out - and it's there, for the whole world, only saying things aloud is so much more real.

and there's nothing, nothing - this is why people are atheists - 'cuz fuck you, fuck you -

and that's it - over and over and over - there's nothing -

when george died i thought (as the masochistic fuck i am) it would be a good idea to count the dead people i knew - at 20 it got depressing -

and i have such worse hangovers when i cry than when i get drunk on anything, on wine, on fucking champagne, nothing, and then it's even worse. cuz i'm hung over from crying and still ... i have this massive, massive headache already ...

and this, this is how i always am, i'm fucked up for a while, an hour, a day, a week, and i wash my face a lot, and my sinuses swell up and there's this massive lump in my throat so i can barely speak or swallow - and then i'm okay, and i know this will happen, but i keep the anger bit for, oh, what's it been, well over a decade by now, and

oh, fuck, bill - george - josh - everyone - fuck -

Labels: people, reflection

scrawled @ 04:10

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28.4.04

A.: (in an irish accent) were ya aware yr tire's flat?
me: not any more.
A.: didja patch it?
me: nope.
A.: didja put a new one on then?
me: all by myself.

A. got this expression like he was so proud he was going to hug me - he was smirking like mad - i suppose he smirks a lot though - he's irish - only then at the last minute he decided it wasn't quite appropriate to hug people at work so he patted me on the shoulder. it was funny.

so i had this flat tire. i've never had one before. i made one boy-aggie-person come out to watch and make sure i didn't fuck up my car or anything. and he did, very nicely, and tried to help only then i didn't let him. and then another boy-aggie-person came out and tried to help and i didn't let him. and then another one, and a longhorn. and then a girl-aggie-person and then two more boys. and then someone walked over and said How many aggies does it take to change a tire? and i said None thank you very much. and i thot about how many cars were driving by on the street looking at a bunch of un-gentlemanly guys standing around watching a girl jack up a jetta and saying to themselves, hmm, what a bunch of un-gentlemanly guys, buncha savages in this town.

Labels: people

scrawled @ 05:07

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26.4.04

so there's a little chip in the windshield from driving to waco on friday to see cousin T - probably the first time i've seen him outside of a major family event (weddings, funerals, more funerals, ...) in ... a very long time. it was fun. i like T. but driving on the way it was thundering and lightninging and raining like hell and it hailed for just long enough for me to say, is that hail? and M to say, yeah - and they weren't even all that big, especially after that christmas when our roof got messed up and M's parents' car got over 400 dings in it - i think maybe an inch or so - but there's a ding in my windshield now. fuckin' A. we noticed it yesterday - it was raining again and i got brand-new windshield wipers last week (good idea) and there's this constant spot - with pointy ends.

Labels: family

scrawled @ 16:44

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20.4.04

success! i now have a well-defined, narrow, pale tan-line under the Ring.

canoeing was good. for the most part. our new canoe is speedy. our new drybag remained dry. didn't have to do much actual paddling so we weren't tired, and didn't drink nearly as much beer as on a typical, tired, hot canoe trip. So there's leftover bud light now. and sure, there are worse things to have happen, but dumping over is ... wet. and surprising. and sucky. but we only lost a coozie and recovered that later. And dumping over the first day prevented us from having socks at night, which was particularly sucky.

and the sunburn on my ass is another story entirely, but it sounds so much better if i just leave it at that - it really isn't that interesting.

Labels: camping, family

scrawled @ 21:10

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16.4.04

i'm in the That's Not Enloe period now. the one that somewhere deep - or, okay, maybe not so deep - in yr subconscious you really want to see everybody, so you see someone in the corner of yr eye and it looks like - hey is that - and then you look - and no, it isn't really. and there's this small, depressed, Oh. That's Not Enloe. That's Not Oka. That's Not Anthony. That's Not Clore.

and you're small and alone and lost in a foreign place, only you live here. and there's no Ozzy here, to go along with the total and utter lack of Angie, and Berheide, and Ben, and Eric, and ..... oh, hell. there's all these missing people, that have to still exist somewhere - what happened to franklin? is that borris in chicago? oh my god, that's aaron b***'s email address - and you google narayani and it goes zzzip! nepal! and just isn't working, and *sigh* not that it's a bad thing, to love such a highly unmanageable number of people, but ... one tends to lose track and get all weird once in a while ...

Labels: people

scrawled @ 04:21

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14.4.04

The Exorcist in 30 seconds with bunnies.

i'm posting this link so i remember to go here later. apparently it's good.

i miss everybody.

Labels: media

scrawled @ 17:20

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5.4.04

one would think that thirteen years would be enough to, you know, get used to ... something. it's been more than half my life now, after all.

Oh well.

Labels: people

scrawled @ 17:25

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2.4.04

So now that you've painted four walls and a ceiling, and had to cut off a little bit of hair because there might have been light purple paint on it and the stylist said what were you painting? and you said damn i thought i got it all and he said nope, and from there you were talking about trading spaces and how you both miss vern, but anyway, now you've painted four walls and a ceiling and a nice darker purple accent stripe near the top only since you've got a highly textured ceiling it's damn hard to get a straight line of paint along the top of the wall and the ceiling, especially in the corners, but anyway, now you've painted four walls and a ceiling and a nice darker purple accent stripe and the door and the window and all the trim, and it's all pretty and gorgeous and goes together well as long as you don't look down, so you call the handy-friend and he comes and helps you put the floor in and you all go have sushi. Only that happened already. So now there's four walls, a ceiling, and a floor. So the switch plates and the bath accessorys - the chromey thing that sticks between the tub and the ceiling and the shower curtain and really that might be about it - they go up. And now, now, finally, you're ready for a new vanity and toilet and vanity top and faucet and medicine cabinet with lights and a mirror and toilet. So you go to the store and spend huge wads of cash and you bring all your stuff home and the vanity looks beautiful.

And then you put the vanity top - which states explicitly on the box that it fits this vanity - on the vanity - which states explicitly on the box that it fits this vanity top - and they don't fit.

And you go into minor conniptions.

And the people at Lowes treat you like a crazy person - and the people at Home Depot treat you with pity because you accidentally shopped at Lowes and their stuff is shoddy, and it's perfectly fine, it shouldn't happen like that, no, but it's okay, you're not crazy, you can fix it like this, or like this, or like this, or like this, or like this, and they explain everything and are very helpful. Go home depot!

Only you're frustrated and you don't fix it just yet.

Labels: house

scrawled @ 02:39

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