Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Exit strategies

What should you do if a half-naked man comes up and sits next to you on the bench where you are reading?

Nothing. He will eventually give up and walk away.

Nothing left to say

I finally finished my piece with my friend Nano from Sweden. We actually choreographed it quickly, it just took so long to find times we could both meet. Also, it felt like a long time coming since the original theme for the piece was choreographed for a class over a year ago.

Now that it is done, I am not sure what to do with myself. There is a huge letdown when you are finished with a piece; you no longer have that creative need driving you to wake up and go. I said what I needed to say. Three people heard me say it.

It will probably never get performed as Nano is back in Sweden. It is nice to have the video so I always have access to the choreography, but watching dance on video just doesn't work. (Dance that was not choreographed for film.) There is a physical energy emanating from the dancers that fills the room and penetrates the viewer. So I have the steps, but I no longer have those feelings. It's like talking to someone wearing sunglasses.

I've really got to find a new drug.

Monday, December 29, 2008

I'm not that short

I keep dreaming that I am accidentally eating shrimp. I've had three shrimp dreams in the past two weeks. I hate shrimp, and almost everything from the ocean except salt. I often dream of food; I can figure out most of my dreams. I cannot figure out the shrimp. Feel free to interpret.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Do over

I hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate my room i hate it hate it hate it hate it HATE IT.

It has very little to do with the fact that it is perpetually teetering on the edge of being a domestic disaster, and more to do with the fact that it all came together by accident. I like pink fair enough. I like green, even the occasional loud and bossy chartreuse. I hate these colors together. How did they manifest in my personal space??!! Wendy spent the night last night so I could take her to the airport early in the morning. I could barely manage to get myself to shut up and lie down because I was so disgusted by my room. I feel entirely misrepresented. I have decided to ignore the fact that I desperately need new clothes (A sweater? why on earth would I ever own a sweater? More than one pair of pants?) and am finally going to fix my stupid ugly room.

It feels superfluous, but as Wendy stated, "It's where you sleep. That can't be good." Yeah, I may still walk around looking poor and busted, but what is the point of nabbing all those hotties when I have no appropriate place in which to seduce them? Have you seen my car? Lets be serious. I am out of options.

This is possibly the dumbest post ever. Whatevs. 2008 is over, bizatches.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Stand Up

The Not Rape Epidemic, by Latoya Peterson of Racialicious.com.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Friday, December 19, 2008

Back and forth

I don't remember the month or year. But I do remember: It was my second time riding with Critical Mass. Emily and I lived on Butler. Wendy and I had not yet started documenting lunch breaks. My bike had not yet been wrecked. I did not yet know this bike was secretly destroying my knees. The rich young mexican had not yet fallen in love with me. The rich young mexican had not yet fallen out of love with me. The artist hadn't hidden my name underneath layers of paint. I didn't know his name. Valerie had not drawn Jaune. Lauren had not yet come over with three pints of Ben&Jerry's. Chris had not yet been hit by a van. I did not have a car. I did not have a cellphone. Eugene was already pushing his younger brother through school. He still hasn't come to see me in California, as he is still afraid of being swallowed up by an earthquake. Emily and I had already played innumerable games of Would You Rather and What Words Do You Smell Like. Aaron had not yet slept over. I was still being paid to price back issues of Spider-Man. I was already learning flamenco. Was I still cutting my own hair? I hadn't tried to disappear into the Pacific. I had already written its poem.


Are you angry? Punch a pillow. Was it satisfying? Not hardly. These days people are too angry for punching. What you might try is stabbing. Take an old pillow and lay it on the front lawn. Stab it with a big pointy knife. Again and again and again. Stab hard enough for the point of the knife to go into the ground. Stab until the pillow is gone and you are just stabbing the earth again and again, as if you want to kill it for continuing to spin, as if you are getting revenge for having to live in this planet day after day, alone.

(from The Shared Patio; a short story in No one belongs here more than you. by Miranda July.)

Emily gave me this collection of short stories for Christmas. Already, by page 4, it was exactly what I wanted.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Fails; wins.

Last night I was standing in a cold, wet, and dark parking lot. But I had fresh pineapple, which is like sunshine in your mouth. Also, and old man with a mustache and trucker hat ran and jumped onto his shopping cart so he could ride it to his car. He even yelled "wheeee."

I put the wrong key in my sports bra before jogging this morning, thereby locking myself out of the house. But before going jogging I had unlocked the balcony so I could set out a creeping plant my friend gave me. I like the feeling of breaking into my own apartment.

I do not enjoy Christmas music in stores. I did, however, enjoy dancing unabashedly to Last Christmas by Wham! on the way home from aforementioned jog. Yes, I do have Last Christmas in my iPod.

I DVRd The Darjeeling Limited. It is not as good as I had hoped. But Jason Schwartzman can do no wrong for me. He's like Kate Winslet in that I still love everything he does, even in movies I dislike. Except I don't want to make out with Kate Winslet. I think.

Monday, December 15, 2008

These shoulder pads are so huge because they are full of wisdom.

When you see me carrying around a small stuffed animal, make sure you ask me about it!

Oh! When those boys were trying to talk about their feelings I should have interrupted them to go change my underwear. You know, because it was making me so hot. Talk about hard science. My life is forever changed. I am not being sarcastic. If I were being sarcastic a man would never want to put a baby inside me.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Weekly discoveries and affirmations:

- Chocolate cake and a pretty dress can fix most problems.

- My youngest brother may, in fact, miss me.

- There are opossums skulking around LA. I dislike them.

- California Love is still pretty satisfying.

- Jeans should never be shopped for amidst menstruation, no matter how urgent it seems.

- I am above accepting charity friendship. I am not above accepting charity underpants.

- Doing something you hate can occasionally make you happy.

-Que se dan los milagros.

-There is purpose in the asking.

-He has counted our tears.

Thursday, December 11, 2008


Next Wednesday night, African dance class in Culver City. Let me know if you want deets. Gotta pray with those hips and thighs.

You ain't ever tell a lie.

Girls make deposits. Boys make withdrawals.

Friday, December 5, 2008


My best friend drove all the way down from SF this afternoon just to cheer me up. She talked smack with me at the dance studio, and went to eat late night dinner with me and Emily at Swingers. And then she threw up on the sidewalk.

It was awesome.

I love her.




When i was five I used to pick up snakes. I was never bitten.

(I so badly wanted to write "I never got bit." I felt like my mother would disapprove. It still sounds better, though.)

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

New Moon

A new moon means no moon
in a sky that can't atone
for a naked woman sleeping
suspended there alone

if she waxed full
i might ask her
things to stars unknown:

did the sun offend you
does his warmth burn you
is this why you hide?
is that why you grasp in darkness
pulling at the tide?


are there hands that mend
what mouths break
a god that gives
what others take
gluing capillaries to veins
and veins to heart
warm palms to push
and make it start

how easy it would be
if moonlight were glue

but there is no moon
the moon is new