south of the unknown

2003-12-28T22:25:00.000-08:00

it's great when your boyfriend moves in. its great when you get to kiss as much as you want and wake up in the middle of the night and his warm body is there to lie against. it's also great when there's a jar of spaghetti sauce that won't open and instead of slamming it repeatedly into the countertop I can hand it to him and let him feel like a man while getting the jar opened at the same time. its also great to come home from an f'd up day and he takes the heavy backpack off my shoulders and sits me down on his lap and doesn't ask me to tell him how sucky my day is but he knows anyway.

i love that.

it's also great to remember what it's like to have my own apartment and stay on the computer all night drinking red wine and writing.
i love my boyfriend, and his vacations.

2003-05-13T01:03:00.000-07:00

hhhmmm random literal musings

so I cleverly avoided the whole "war" thing by being a flake and not writing here almost at all during the "war" and well, uh. I guess that's not all that clever but, since no one reads this anyway, I figure flaking out for a while won't really matter. right? (right says the lone reader, moi). But I'm not complaining about no one reading this actually since that way I can't possibly embarass myself or get busted for writing anything stupid. Hey, I think I just had one of those "silver lining" of the cloud moments. geez that's lame. So I just missed my seeing John O'Brien play, which sucks. But, I partially missed it cause I was having a nice chat and well, partially cause I had to work until about 10:30. But the chat part was nice. I did stop by the Makeout Room on my way home just in case the band played late and I asked the guys out front if the band was still playing and they shouted back to me "Yes! park your car!" So, I thought, maybe I didn't miss the whole thing, but when I parked and got inside it was the second band that was still playing. Ohhh. I should have been more specific in my random questioning. But I did catch the end of Golden Shoulders' set and it weren't all that baad [uh...forget me trying to find that website!]. But the name? eh. not impressed. But you know what really sucks? Not having ice cubes. seriously. My freezer apparently has a "no cubes" policy and is enforcing. I put the ice cube tray in, filled with delicious water. And two or three days later I have nothing. And no, there are no leaks in the tray. Yes, I checked. Yes, I check several times. Where does the ice go? My freezer does fine with everything else: ice cream? check. nice and frozen. frozen veggie corn dogs? check. they never evaporate in the freezer. frozen spinach and peas? yes and yes. perfectly fine. every time. ice cubes? d'oh! zip. zilch. zero. what gives? and how can I possibly make drinks that "extra cold" without the requisite cubes? For instance, I keep a bottle or two of vodka in the freezer and recently bought a bottle of tonic water because I was craving a vodka tonic but there were no cubes to give the drink that extra clink in the glass. and what fun is a drink-drink if you aint' got that clink?
see what I mean about the freedom to post nonsense? of course you don't, because I am the only one reading this. But seriously folks, this ice cube thing is going to really suck in the summer when I want to make ice coffee and ice tea and, uh, just ice.

2003-04-02T23:14:00.000-08:00

chris needs a cute girlfriend, anyone interested write to me
he's cute and super nice and smart and funny

2003-04-02T23:13:00.000-08:00

Hi Chris!!!
welcome, you are my third visitor

haha

2003-03-24T21:07:00.000-08:00

The Geneva what?

"At the Pentagon, spokeswoman Torie Clark accused Iraqis of violating the rules of war by misusing white flags of surrender and other deceptions" (source).

BUT......any U.S. behavior that might appear, well, unsavory, is accidental and cleverly removed from consumer conscience by way of smarmy wording:
"A U.S. general said on Monday an aircraft taking part in the U.S.-led war on Iraq (news - web sites) bombed a bus by accident, killing civilians, while attacking a bridge near the Syrian border" (source).
"This act represents a breach of the 1949 Geneva Convention on protecting civilians during war...therefore the Syrian Arab Republic condemns this act and reserves the right to demand compensation in line with international law," a Syrian statement said (source).

and not just that, but, um...does that seem odd to anyone other than me--the "rules of war"? How much more oxymoronic can you get?

2003-02-26T22:15:00.000-08:00

Imprint

I bruise so easily when I’m near you
So easily the vessels break and spill into the tissue
released like a floodgate of emotions
seeping into every available space.

I never feel the hurt of the soft purplish spots on my skin.
When I press my fingers into them, to remember how your hand felt,
I feel nothing.
The squeeze that you meant for love
pinched just a bit, a momentary sting
but the shadowy imprint of your fingers lies still on my skin
long after you have left
and I want, in a feverish way, to keep them

proof of your touch
proof that you were here.

The inside of me,
--already bleeding when you try to love me,
already protesting your grip on me--
immediately voices what my heart won’t hear.

2003-02-15T12:18:00.000-08:00

What pants are YOU wearing?
So I heard this song the other day by the Marginal Prophets, not sure what the title is but the song was about "Yes Pants" and it was a total crack up. You know "Yes-pants," the pants you know will get you laid. The guys in the band admitted to having "yes-shirts" as well. And I couldn't help but wonder if my recent forays into the dating world were related to my pants. And I wondered if I have "yes-pants." I certainly have pants. And I have pants that I've even worn out to bars. And I have, well, you know, "been lucky" but was it my pants or my sparkling wit and inrresitable charm? This put a whole new spin on the dating scene for me. I had no idea that guys were noticing my pants! As I mentally pulled clothing from my closet I realized I probably have a lot of "yeaaaah,-I-don't-think-so-pants" and I even have a pair of "is-there-even-an-ass-under-there-pants" (overalls, you know). And I realized that there's probably no such thing as "yes-sweats." So, I concentrated my mental inventory on my jeans and black pants. And because the song was clearly about the pants you know will get you laid, I realized I needed not necessarily "yes-pants," but a "yes-backside." Hmmm. Is my rear a "yes-rear" I wondered? Since I was driving and couldn't see my ass in the mirror I decided I should probably toss the donut I was eating just in case. I made a mental note to pick up a bag of baby carrots, the two bags in the fridge had been there for several weeks already and weren't looking too healthy. I've certainly got trousers that I would call "pant-tastic" and they don't do me any harm....I guess those are my "yes-pants" or at least my "pretty-good-chances-pants." And I thought, "pretty-good-chances-pants" are nothing to sneeze at. Damn, wish I hadn't tossed the donut.

2003-02-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

valentine's day.
either you are gushingly sentimental or you are a cranky, single person. Hmmm. sounds like you can't win for trying. Although I'd never look a gift box of chocolates in the mouth--?-- I still have to say that flying solo on V-day must be somewhat like being jewish on christmas. and since I've never been jewish on christmas (or any other major holiday) I can only relate the single girl thoughts of the monumental deal so many single people make about valentine's day. Perusing the "men seeking women" ads on Craigslist (purely for research, I assure you!), there are upwards of a hundred men desparately seeking a Valentine's date, for tomorrow! Uh, does that strike anyone else as odd? I mean, isn't Valentine's day the day you express your love for those that you, well, love? People, you don't have to be in love to celebrate Valentine's day, focus instead on the people in your life you already do love, family, friends, your cat....How corny and affectacious (if that's not a word, I'm making it into one now), to meet a stranger for a date to coerce love and romance into your life, as if you can conjur it up simply because it's Valentine's day, or worse, that because it's Valentine's day and you aren't in love, you'd better quick find someone to approximate love with, dare I say, make love with. Now lest I come across as a cynical-obviously-single-bitch, which I assure you I am not (the bitch part anyway), I'm willing to consider another reading of this en masse dating frenzy: perhaps Valentine's day, with it's gooey romaticism (driven of course by a consumer market--ooh cynicism, sorry), has rekindled the ashy heart-remnants of those burned out on love and like the Grinch, embolded their sour, little hearts three sizes for today.

"True love, I knew, some thought of leavin' you.
Bad thoughts I had, when valentines were due.
Of all the many ways a man will break his heart,
Well there ain't none meaner than he pulls his own apart"

hmmm...didn't work for me.

2003-02-06T19:55:00.000-08:00

apple of the day:

"L"

uh-oh. better eat another one.

2003-02-05T11:40:00.000-08:00

an apple a day...
so i just twisted off the stem of my apple to the tune of the alphabet and it landed on "N"
which i guess is the first letter of the name of my next boyfriend--
i don't remember if that's first name or last name
and i sure as hell can't think of any guys i know whose name begins with "N" so, i'll need a little help on this one.
folks: if you are a guy and your name begins with "N" drop me a line

you may be my next boyfriend (like it or not)
and ladies, if you know an elligible N-monikered man, hook me up

cheers
p.s. hurry, I'll probably eat another apple tomorrow....

2003-02-04T11:19:00.000-08:00

D. O. L. L.
dude. check it. Division of Laura Lee kicked some ass last night at the Bottom of the Hill. Unfortunately I had to teach a class until 10 pm (dude, I'm so hardcore) so I missed opener Burning Brides who I really wanted to see, but the thirsty swedes (anyone been around long enough to get that reference?) made the show worthwhile. I ran into my friend Paul and we caught up on gossip for a bit before the show (he hasn't seen the Baby yet? Is he insane?). DOLL assumed the position on stage and pretty much rocked us non-stop. I had a couple of beers and found myself nodding my head (ok, maybe bobbing my head, or dare I say "head bangin"?) and barely checking out the cute guys near me. With guitar sounds that were remniscent at times of Joy Division and The Doors both, I melted right into the all-ages crowd of believers. Per Stålberg (Guitar/Vocals) is one of the happiest frontmen I've seen and let me tell you, fucking, right on! There's no need to be angry and scornful while rocking, n'est pas? He repeatedly implored the wuss-assed crowd to dance and I'm sorry to say I think we dissapointed him on that front, but the we bathed him in a warm glow of happy drunkeness just the same. "We are from Sweden" Jonas Gustafsson the bassist rang out in between songs, "and tonight, you are all from Sweden too!" The crowd went wild, as if all their lives they had been secretly pining to be Swedish.

And on a more serious note, as sad as I am about the Columbia disaster, I can't help but wonder why it garnered such a response. I mean, people die every day. dozens of people. hundreds of people. thousands of people. more tragically, more lonely, more ghastly. but it also occurred to me that the Columbia crew died so publicly. We all saw them die, and we rarely watch people die. dying is such an intimate thing and we all watched. maybe you looked away, but probably not. it's our voyeuristic national culture to be attracted to the forbidden, the dark, the secret intimate world of death. not that in reality it's generally dark or forbidden either. death is most often quiet and almost imperceptible. it slips in and back out, doesn't generally come with a display of fireworks trumpeting it's arrival on national or, international, tv. but when it does, we watch and we suck in our breath at the horror of such brazenness, and then we breath out, relieved that our limbs are still attached and our blood-veins and fibers are all still connected and working. But it's obviously more than that. the astronauts were brave, yes, and spirited, and amazing people. but more so, they confronted the unknown frontier on our behalf. they pushed the bounds of earth so we didn't have to. and their deaths were in place of, on our behalf as well.

2003-02-02T16:48:00.000-08:00

"the human senses are insurmountable barriers to our union."
--the "fiend" from Frankenstein

word.

ok, so, there is clearly a mental deficiency with some people. are we in agreement on that? good. and here's insurmountable proof of it. Being the voyeur that I am, I spent the morning browsing through craigslist's missed connections. Was I looking for my own mc? Clearly not by reading this post. But I was curious what big-boob-lover was going to say in his shout out to big-boob-girl. Whoowee; he just about romanced my socks off. I'm sure she woke up to scour missed connections in the off-chance that her romantic admirer would try to contact her for underwhelming-mysogynist-sex. I mean, geez, wouldn't you?
but then there's the other shoe.
and although the posting in mc clearly said, "read this if you are Sasha" and I already know I'm NOT Sasha, I had to read it anyway; I mean, what if he really meant amy but has some specific form of dislexia that turns the letters A-M-Y into S-A-S-H-A? Well, I'm pretty much over that convenient rationalization, but I read it, and I'm not sorry I did, especially after reading BBL's ad. So not only was I impressed with this guy's initiative to contact said Sasha and the lack of the word "boobies" in his posting, but the romantic date(s) he has planned just made me all squishy inside, and as I said, I'm not even Sasha. My name doesn't even begin with an "S." damn. But I think the overwhelming piece of evidence that Sasha has a unique-among-men admirer is that he offered to make her not just a romantic roof-top dinner, but that he included salad on the menu! Am I right? How many of you men make salad? Nary a one of you, I bet. Ok, I know at least one of you does. But, iceberg lettuce doesn't really count, as it's actually a form of styrofoam and not a vegetable after all.
And I'm pretty sure rooftop-dinner-guy goes for Romaine all the way. or possibly Redleaf. And I wouldn't put Spinach past him.

2003-02-01T21:53:00.000-08:00

speech
can we undo our damage?
doused and rekindled--
find speech among the lifeless?
The sweet gibberish and howl
recedes: motion, stillness
small voice efforts try to speak
but we hear only the sea in a hoarse wisper

Beyond the pale we find nothing to say,
silence moored, kinship adrift becomes disassembled woodrot
whatever nervous clattering we tinker with, dissolves before it's heard.
Nothing there.
Silence is all there is. Vivid. Found. A gesture out of nothing.
Spread stunned onto the witless.

2003-01-31T10:29:00.000-08:00

this ain't no grunge band...

last night Cursive kicked out the jams at Bottom of the Hill. they rawked, and equally impressive (or perhaps more so) was opener The Velvet Teen who stunned the emo crowd when singer judah ended a song with a stage dive into an unprepared crowd who let the singer crash and burn right to the floor. But like the phoenix, judah rose from the emo ashes, blood gushing from his right eye, to finish the last song of the set--a heartfelt, jeff-buckleyesque tune which compelled further devotion from their fans. they did not disappoint.

upcoming shows of note at BOTH: The Detachment Kit/ with Action Slacks sat 02/01/03
Division of Laura Lee with Burning Brides/ mon 02/03/03
Irving opening up for Citizens Here and Abroad/ tue. 02/04/03

also check out Noise Pop at the end of feb.this year is the ten year anniversary--sheesh that makes me feel old...

heads up: The Velvet Teen will be back in sf in March with death cab at slims on 03/07/03

2003-01-30T16:31:00.000-08:00

payin' the bills

well how-dee, Loretta Lynn is hawking her wares on ebay! i guess even the coal minor's daughter has gotta pay the bills, and I suppose it's more practical than her having a grand ole garage sale. And speaking of paying bills. i'm just so damn tired of it. I'm so over this "bill paying" thing.

so i'm just ladytronning it out here, wasting time surfing around. i'm going to see Cursive tonight. They rock. sorry, they rawk. thankfully i got tix because i missed seeing the walkmen tues night cause my dumb-ass didn't get tix in time and they sold out. poor me, huh? there's actually a lotta good shows right now, seems to always be the case this time of year. helps one get through the gloom of winter. although i can't complain, the weather in san fran has been exceptional as of late. hmmm i probably just summoned a weekend rain with that statement. oops, sorry.
out.

2003-01-29T17:53:00.000-08:00

tattoo free uterus
holy f-ing shit did you read about the doctor who branded his alma mater's intials on a woman's uterus during a hysterectomy?!! He's being sued by his patient (well, duh) because he used a cauterizing tool to mark "UK" the initials of University of Kentucky, where he graduated from medical school. He defends his action by saying that the markings provided a "point of reference" and oriented the left and right sides of the organ. He said his decision to use the intitials UK to mark the uterus "was honorable since it made reference to the college of medicine where I received my medical degree" uh. it gets worse. apparently the initials were 2 inches high and Guiler (the doc.) served last year as a sponser of U K's "Wildcat Madness," a fundraiser for a basketball museum. hmmm. was he planning on selling the "Wildcat" uterus on Ebay as part of this year's fundraiser? What a grotesque display of sadistic behavior. And apparently this practice is becoming the new fad in surgery, in 1999 a NY ob/gyn (the man formerly known as Dr. Allan Zarkan) lost his medical license after carving his intials into the a abdomen of a patient. yeah. Amazed? it's ok, Zarkan's lawyer chalks it up to the fact that Zarkan suffers from a brain disorder....Oh, well, now I feel better.

The practice of "marking" women, whether it be female circumcision, Hester Prynne's scarlet letter, or Dr. Guiler's essentially raising his leg and peeing on his patient, seems stunningly mysogynistic. Hmmm. just finished reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein again and this smacks somewhat of Victor Frankensteins's cavemanic uterus envy.

2003-01-29T06:50:00.000-08:00

state of whose union?

Sunday, regardless of where I found myself, the day was punctuated by raucous cheers and groans. I didn't have the watch the game to know when the raiders scored or made good plays, which is fine, because although I'll admit a cursory interest in O-Town team, I was hardly gonna watch the game. so last night, I couldn't bring myself the watch the S of the U address by dear old dumbass. I sat at my computer with my back to the silent, black tv screen and worked; always the optomist, I was hoping that some kind of revelation had taken place and that maybe, just like hollywood always dreams, bush would have had some touching moment that turned his evil heart to good, or perhaps in a dream he was visited by the ghosts of presidents past and future, leading him on a hideous sideshow of the future as America continues to fuck first and ask quesitons later (if ever). I held on to this dream half expecting to hear neighbors, grouped together with bowls of chips and 12 packs of beer, to cheer and blow their air-horns whenever bush said something that resembled intelligence and integrity. alas, the street was quiet.

2003-01-28T17:48:00.000-08:00

funny night.
hi-ho. I just got my shit on here and am trying to figure out how to post my archives from my other site....may take a while to do that, I'm so html-handicapped. eh, oh well. missed on getting tx for the walkmen-shiiiiit. but did get to watch an educational video on how to explain death to children. it came from a funeral home I think, made back in the day when Sean Cassidy ruled the world, it had some hilarious, if not disturbing, methods of conveying eternal slumber to kids, not the least of which was a discussion of "what is death" followed by a picture of roadkill! wow. using roadkill to help explain grandpa's death is f***ing bold. there was also a nice vignette of a kid burying his goldfish in a small box in the yard. the opening shot of which was the deceased goldfish in the box and then they showed the hole the lil' slugger dug for his pet, and, well, I'm sure you've all been to a goldfish funeral so I needent go through the whole thing. but I want to know how many goldfish were killed in the making of this film?

oh and get this: i was talking to this guy at the bar (cute) and we got on the topic of "how old are you?" and when I revealed my old-lady-status he blurted out "really?? but you're too beautiful to be 33!" uh....is that a compliment or an insult? hmmmm. oh and a shout out to my new friend gabeocity who spins at the beauty bar on saturday nights.