may 27th 2008. the day i will start to lap swim again.

my morning jacket - touch me i'm going to scream part two

i will float until i learn how to swim

music is my king sized bed.

look, you need to learn how to be more careful. my ride home consisted of relief / disappointment. can i attribute my situation of the past year to my actions of 2006. 2006 seems tainted.

i can't undo it. and i cant redeem myself. oh well.

someone who looks good in pajamas.

here's my question. wait, i'll keep that to myself and my close friends who have the sad duty to listen to me hopelessly bitch.

i just cleaned out my car. its very tidy.

===

i'm not mad. i'm not angry. i'm not even upset.
i'm unresolved.
and i'd rather be mad, angry, and upset.

===

and now, for something totally irrelevant


it's always a carlos.

it doesn't mean that much to me
to mean that much to you

basta cosi.

blunt objection to blunt objects

the summer of 2006 was the last time i felt like all things were in their place.

thank you chris wang



double fisting.

well, that was severe.

i'm starting to detest the internet.

and why are most of these entries one-liners?

searching for batcaves. (no, really!)

what?

a truth five and a half years in the making

he takes things so seriously that he's easily disappointed.

so there is this one argyle sock in my wardrobe that has been missing its pair for a good year and a half. i remember this because i distinctly remember taking my soc 4 class in the summer and wearing those argyles on the one day during that summer that i wore shoes.

and if you knew me during that summer, you'd know that my room was (who am i kidding, still is) a disaster area. the one sock got lost in the mix.

usually i wouldnt care about socks; you lose socks everyday. who gives a fuck? but i remember getting those socks. navy, green, cream, and pink. truly a sexy argyle color combo. they were my first pair of argyle socks.

and today, while getting ready for work. i miraculously found the other pair while looking for a blue pen in various boxes in my room.

wtf! i'm happy! socks!

2222111stdecemba.

fluid!

pain. with a dash of

half way done with december.
one week of work left in this month.
the important folder has over 200 messages in it.
and i enjoy going through them.

my sewing machine is so cool.

wone. amazing. yes... wone. i spelled that correctly.

phone call from my dad-

"hi vanessa, i bought you your cereal" and then he hung up. hahaha.

yay :)

i guess its not too bad living at home

there's a word for that?

razbliuto. look it up.

by the by

there is someone in ireland who actively visits this blog.
who are you, irish(wo)man?
i'd love to hear what you think about me.

hi, i'm vanessa

my left wrist is tingling.
i think i have pinched a nerve.

my eyebrows need a plucking.
i have no time to do them.

these flies are driving me crazy.
i dont know where they're coming from.

"wait, hold on... i'm not sure where the serious but snarky suggestions ended and the facetious sarcasm began"

two hours ago.

everything has a cost.

i've taken a liking for gary sinise. and the music of al green.

hey, so like... economics!

confusion. mixed with hot. plus a lack of guilt.

my attention is grabbed.

i'm watching the most grotesque thing on television: iron chef, battle green onion

green onion.
scallions.
the ugly cousin of the equally ugly chive.

gag.

kat! are you reading this???

solacsiqual intense

its not a word.

===

so, we're like those people walking around casinos that you usually see when you're checking into your room at 11am who are falling over drunk. why are they drunk? because they started drinking at the ass crack of dawn. 5am.

which means you're home by the time the temperature gets to 98.

and thats fine with me.

===

i'm fairly content with this summer.

hokai.

my mom is kind of evil.

friends only

i don't actually believe in that shit. its usally there to make a point.

as you well know, i like it when random people read my shit.



death. and new life. i dig that kind of shit.

for posterity's sake

"so how did that happen; sex in a astrojump?"
"well, we were bouncing, and then i fell on his dick"

true story.

home

i got my old job back on friday. friday night i ended up drinking a swedish berry iced tea from coffee bean mixed with absolut with my manager from work while he drank two forties.

my retail job = my fake job while i look for my real job. anyways back to the vodka 40s

so we end up at la bar(cito) which is this gay dive bar on sanborn and sunset. its complete with trannies and mexican cowboys. newcastles in the cuts + bacon wraps + b&h + camel fliters = one bangin' hangover.

the point: i've had this hacking-brochital-death cough for the past month. its probably because i smoke half a pack a day. my dad smokes. danielle smokes. mom does NOT smoke. today after i got home from work, she walked into my room as i was tranferring cigarettes from one box to the other. she told me that i shouldnt smoke.

and as she says this, i get a coughing attack.

i expect her to scold me; that this coughing is because i smoke too much.

instead, she pats my back to help the cough along.

as a kid i was really aware of the balance that the universe required. like, i remember thinking as i recieved a math test with a good grade back in 4th grade that i would probably get my social studies homework back and it would be all marked up.

balance, you know? school wise at least.

i'm pretty confident that the balance is checking itself in my life right now.

but heres my question, once i stop taking tests in college (meaning: when i graduate) how am i supposed to indentify the balance? with no school to counteract laziness, how am i supposed to become unlazy?

that goes without saying

i asked my friend today a question that had been making its rounds in my head for the longest time: "can you have sex?"

ok ok, let me explain. my friend had a snowboard accident and he's a paralyzed from the stomach down. i've known him for a year and a half.

he said, "i was wondering when you were going to ask that"

haha. really. apparently, that is the number one question girls ask him. i asked him if he could feel anything. he explained that the sensitive places before are the places that he still has some semblace of feeling.

so i ask, "so, the girl has to be on top, right?"

and he answered, "not necessarily. i can do push ups!"

we laughed and talked. and he asked me why i hadn't asked him that before.

i answered with, "well, if you couldn't, it would suck. like, 'hey, can you have sex?' and if you answered with a, ' "no" it would be awkward.' "

haha. the end is near.

say nothing. assume anything.

reading time with pickle!

people awake at 6:02am astound me.

my goal for my future self is to re-become a morning person.

re-become? when was vanessa ever a morning person?

i can answer that. when i was 7 years old, i was a morning person. i would wake up and have breakfast with my grandparents.

thats a weird thought. i havent thought about that in a while.

you know those weird spurts of your childhood that come to you at random times? example:

- one time, i tried to make dough. i succeeded and hid the dough under the couch in my family's living room. i remembered that it was there a week later and it was growing mold. cool!

- pre computer, danielle and i would stay up at night doing NOTHING. like, absolutely nothing. calling radio stations, making food, reading the newspaper, taping songs off the radio.

- my first nail polish color that i bought was this deep blue color. straight '90s.

anyways. this is procrastination.

===

i saw the arcade fire last night with don + chris and carlos.

i'm a sucker for music i can move to.



a miraculous picture: just as i took it, some dumbass tried to take a picture of the stage with flash. the flash was absorbed by don and me and the light bounceed straight into my camera. and thats the arcade fire



the lighting in this one is fantastic. or maybe i love that sweater.

===

i guess this is my triumphant return to blogger. be kind.

my sister scares the shit out of me sometimes.

knocked over bureaus and yelling is what i equate my sister's mental illness with.

why do we have to walk on egg shells when we're around her? why do we have to pay attention to what we say to her? why do WE have to think twice if what we say to her is going to hurt her feelings and send her over the edge when she can say anything horrible to us with no repercussions?

this weekend, i have come to this realization that has taken 21 years for me to arrive at: danielle has never apologized for anything that she has done. ever.

1970 was the year that reared the most horrible love story, love story. it's famous catch line was "Love means never having to say you're sorry."

what. the. fuck. are you serious? are you living in the same world i'm living in? of course you have to say i'm sorry.

say you're sorry.

also: he called me defined.

meaning: i'd still know who i was if we ended up apart.

is it bizarre that i don't want to move back to la?

gah

e posible.

move.

I have been inhaling and exhaling.
Inhale, Exhale.

no waiting.

Inhale, exhale. Immediate results.

Never a shortness of breath.
even times of both sides.

Its necessary to hold your breath.
The anticipation for the next air.
The receiving of what was recently delayed.

===

I love patterns.

93 degrees

Its too hot for my heart to hurt.

I've decided to start writing. I'm hoping that Los Angeles doesn't burn down. I want my home to be intact when i move back. Its harsh reality with college ending. I took my last midterm in college. It was so bizarre reading what i wrote. How the ideas that i was stringing together made sense and that the arguement that I was making could stand.

Given, the question asked what I would do if i was young czar with absolute power in the 17th century. But fuck you too.

I'm going to start capitalizing my sentences.

I left my heart at reception. The last thing I saw was you.

===

The common denominator in my life: frustration; with myself, but more specifically with the people that I love.

flash!

recently, i've been having these weird ass flashes of myself in the future. pregnant. or just after giving birth. wtf dude.