10.31.2003
Masquerade Ball tonight at Bella Muse. There's gonna be a pool of blood, a fashion show, bands, dj, booze and some performance art. I'm a dead nurse with a gun shot wound. Apparently I'll be doing something kinky with a dead guy in a wheel chair. Tobin said something about licking the blood off. And then I heard the word lap dance. But I draw the line somewhere.
Also, last night was fucking fun. Gerry sprayed beer all over the camera guy. Les Savy Fav was delicious. I have a hangover. Thanks alot Pop Explosion.
1:25 PM
10.30.2003
This email was in my inbox. I have no idea who sent it. Perhaps it was a mistake. But it made me feel better. Thank-you.
By the time the Lord made woman, he was into his sixth day of working
overtime. An angel appeared and said, "Why are you spending so much
time on this one?"
And the Lord answered, "Have you seen the spec sheet on her? She has
to be completely washable, but not plastic, have over 200 movable
parts, all replaceable, run on diet coke and leftovers, have a lap
that can hold four children at one time, have a kiss that can cure
anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart and have two pairs of
hands."
The angel was astounded at the requirements. "Two pairs of hands! No
way! And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for
one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."
But I can't," the Lord protested. "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18 hour days."
The angel moved closer and touched the woman. "But you have made her
so soft, Lord." She is soft," the Lord agreed, "But I have also made
her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."
Will she be able to think?" asked the angel.
The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be
able to reason and negotiate."
The angel then noticed something, and reaching out, touched the
woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model. I
told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."
That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!" What's the
tear for?" the angel asked. The Lord said, "The tear is her way of
expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her
love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride."
The angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of
everything! Woman is truly amazing."
And she is! Women have strengths that amaze men. They bear hardships
and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy.
They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry.
They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous. They
fight for what they believe in. They stand up to injustice. They
don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better
solution. They go without so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. They love unconditionally. They cry when their
children excel and cheer when their friends get awards.
They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding. Their hearts
break when a friend dies. They grieve at the loss of a family member,
yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They
know that a hug and a kiss can help to heal a broken heart.
Women come in all sizes, in all colors and shapes.
They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you.
The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning! They bring
joy and hope. They have compassion and ideals. They give moral support
to their family and friends. Women have vital things to say and
everything to give.
Pass this along to your friends to remind them how amazing women
are; because if there's one flaw in women, it is that they tend to
forget about themselves.
4:07 PM
10.27.2003
Someone from the old And crowd had just found out about Alex’s death.
“Oh Alex killed himself. Well, I didn’t know that.”
“Yes, the night of the Bondage Ball. Yes he did. That’s what he did.”
Look him in the eye. Stay here. Stay here, right here.
“Well, gee I saw Alex six months ago—
“Oh. Please don’t say it.” I grabbed his arm with both of my hands.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup
“--at the grocery store. And he looked dead already."
11:12 AM
10.26.2003
Friday night I went to a party and there was some discussion about my eyes.
Drunk guy #1 "You have beautiful eyes. They're so big." Stands a little too close, won't stop staring.
Drunk guy #2 buts into conversation. "Yeah like Bette Davis eyes."
Oh God
#1 turns back to me and speaks in a breathy whisper. "Yeah like Bette Davis eyes."
#2 starts listing off songs. "Hungry Eyes!! She's got huuuungry eyes."
#1 gets pissed off.
"Her eyes aren't like that AT ALL. She does not have hungry eyes. You're an idiot."
A big fistfight ensues. Beers go flying. Cuts happen. I slip away and go home. Call the insurance company and put a million bucks on my eyes.
11:00 AM
10.23.2003
Random is fun. Random sentences make me very happy. Kind of like the word swollen. I love that word.
Nat came up to me a few weeks ago. She said "Claudette, wanna do a reading with me at Spoken Word."
We both grew up in trailor parks so we wrote down 8 sentences each. We took turns reading them without knowing what the other person said. I wish I could remember how it went because it was random and funny and then it all came together and made perfect sense. Nat is good at making things make sense.
I wish I could remember the sentences, but I chucked my piece of paper. Maybe on the ground. But I remember I did write this. Or I think so.
-We got back from Cape Breton and the car had red spots all over it. Dad said it had the measles.
-"What do call them anyway? Homes?"
-I wore a plastic superwoman costume and a plastic mask with holes for my eyes and my lips for three years in a row.
-The cat ran away with the cat. But really they just killed her.
-All of my meals came out of the microwave.
--She would cook whole chickens in there.
Germperil is random. Sort of. Wait a minute, what is the definition of random anyway?
Ok. It is "Having no specific pattern, purpose, or objective."
Well maybe germperil isn't random because there was a purpose, but it means absolutely nothing. The purpose was scam the spam, get rid of my old email address. So I took the first half of my last name and then I opened the dictionary and the first word I saw I tacked onto the end. It was "peril." Boy I love that word too. Germperil. I bet ya I'm being surveyed or watched just because of my email address, or maybe it's too obvious. Maybe the government's the one who mysteriously downloaded 'Live Girls' on my computer. Or maybe it was philip. Anyway germperil is great, considering terrorism and all, and at the time, terrorism was all over the news, especially anthrax. I thought it was funny. I've had other nicknames like Claudey and Cloudy.
Actually it's my old friend Kristina who gave me the nickname Cloudy. She was one of our close friends in high school. She was two years older than us. And she was from Florida. She was a slut. She loved sex and big dicks. She punched a guy for calling her a whore. Her father shot himself when she was 6 years old in the bathroom and she had huge knockers. Like I'm talking BIG. And skinny little legs. She told me her legs were skinny because she was knocked over playing basketball. And it knocked all the stuff to her tits and that’s why they were so big. She was a wild one, for sure. She wore really skimpy bikinis. G-string bikinis.
We always had parties at her house. I would shoot a pint of vodka and weird boys who wanted to sleep with Kristina would show up. One of them fell in a basket. It's all on tape. Kristina's mother was an alcoholic. When she was really loaded, my friend Jeff would knock her purse out of her hand and everything would go flying. And he would scramble all over the living room floor and steal her cigarettes. One of Kristina’s boyfriends pushed her down the stairs. She fell in love a lot. She told people to fuck off. She had great morals and a high sense of loyalty.
Kristina taught us how to give blowjobs. She taught herself how to play guitar. She had a beautiful voice. Then she moved back to the States and we all felt kind of lost and lonely.
She came home once. To testify at a rape trial. That’s a long story and I’m not sure how to tell it. Someone accused someone of raping her at one of Kristina’s parties. It was a birthday party and the birthday boy was accused. Anyway. The prosecutor said we were a bunch of sex crazed maniacs and that we had planned the rape together and were covering it up. That we were a clique and we were lying to protect our friend. Fucked up. There was a boob and penis cake at the party so I can understand how it looked bad. But no one was covering anything up.
She came home once and that was it. The next time she came home everything was very different. She was an aerobics instructor. She was Baptist. Hardcore Baptist. She said the Baptist church took her in when she was sad and lonely. She said the Baptist church made her feel loved and welcome. She said, “I was always looking for a father figure.” She was married with two kids. He was converted because of her and she was very happy. She sang us songs but they were only Christian songs. Lots of stuff about repenting for your sins. She wouldn’t sing any other types of songs because other songs were a sin. She told us about her sex life. She said she believed a wife should perform wife duties like having sex with her husband even if she didn’t want to. And she talked about burning in hell a lot. I’m sure she thought I was LOST LOST LOST.
While she was showing us video tapes of her wedding, her husband was fucking someone else. When I found out I was sad and angry at a man I had never met. How could he? How could he hurt someone who had been hurt so much?
4:56 PM
10.22.2003
I feel like putting on my black mini skirt and getting buzzed off whiskey sours. Instead I have to log tape after tape after tape of my shoot in Montreal. I’m so bored. Logging tapes is boring. I hate it.
In Montreal an old guy came up to me and said “Madamoiselle, a mouka la ka la smoke le cocaine avec moi?” What? Smoke cocaine with you? Crazy old man. Don’t people who snort coke have a cokedar, something like a gaydar?
Jenn and I just heard someone outside our window threatening to call his lawyer, so we opened the window and crouched on my desk to eavesdrop. Didn’t really get the gist of it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Plain standard fight talk. And “How can I help you if you won’t help me.” Ha ha ha.
I don’t care if you are trying to break into acting. Don’t talk to me about it. Stop smoozing. I hate suck-ups. And besides what you want to do has nothing to do with what I do. I work in TV, but I don’t come near actors. You’re driving me back home from the airport. I’ve been up since 5 am. And it’s out of context. I hate out of context. And even if I were some sort of movie producer, I would never hire you. Although I’m sure you’ll make a great extra some day.
4:52 PM
10.16.2003
Korea. 1998. Whoa. Too many love affairs in Halifax. Gotta jet. Gotta go go go. Thanks for the degree, sorry I didn’t bend, here’s to ya, but I’m out.
The place is a lego block and I’m in shock. “I’m here now and I ain’t NEVER leaving!!” Yellow umbrellas and watered down coffee. On the plane ride over, I need to piss 13 times. And the whole Asian world came crashing down.
“IMF” chuckles a business suit on the bus. “In Korea, we say that means I Am Fired. Heh hehe.”
7% unemployment. Have you been to Cape Breton dude?
“Go home, mi-gouk.” Spray painted on the road.
English teacher secrets. “You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself.” Sly little bitch. Let’s play Twister!!! Red. Green. Yellow. Blue. Left foot. Right foot. Violent Child #2. “Good Lord baby, does your dad beat you?”
Goldfish the size of basketballs. Bleached Russian hookers. Cheese is hard to come by.
Christmas Eve. Pusan. We’re in a taxi, on an eight lane highway. A drunk man rolls through traffic. Screeching and swerving. And no one stops. Yeah, baby, I’m in shock.
New Year’s Eve. Seoul. Black strap heels, western food and a riot. Pushing in and pushing under, the cops trap hundreds of us by linking arms around 4 city blocks, what am I supposed to do, it’s hard to breathe, and I’m swaying back and forth, a ribbon of people. Snap. Snap. Under I go and two hands grab and lift. We break free and run down a highway lined with riot gear. Just in time for the Count
Down.
Stick out your thumb on the highway. When you’re a white girl. The bus stops.
Camping on the beach. Get home and we’ve been robbed. Crap. No wait, just me! 2000 dollars and a camera. Why didn’t I hide my cash in the cereal box? The cops say I did it. What?! I robbed myself!!
Shitty.
3:40 PM
10.10.2003
Too much JD last night. I'm trying not to move my head, and walking is pretty much a write off. And my shirt has no buttons and it's safety pinned closed and Jenn saw my boob. I fixed it.
11:41 AM
10.08.2003
These are my grandparents. My grandmother was English. My grandfather met her during the War. He was a merchant marine. Anyway, he won her over by bringing her stockings and sugar. And then he stole her away from her family and everything she's ever known and made her live in Cape Breton. That's fine. She spent the rest of her life baking. They took a boat back from England. Even though they were married they weren't allowed in the same sleeping quarters. So they'd meet in secret and do it up against the smoke stack.
This is my grandfather shoving booze down some woman's throat.
And this is just this.
6:18 PM
10.07.2003
Holy shit. The most beautiful man in the world just parked his car in front of my house. I think he’s Spanish. I think he’s here to study with someone. God, where did he come from? Why can’t he be my neighbour? That’s it, I’m going back to school. I’m going to Spain, there’s probably clones of him everywhere. Holy shit. I want to toss his glasses to the sidewalk, rip his wool sweater off, grab his hair and…hmmm. I want to invite him over to the office. I'll pin back my hair, wear my pencil skirt and my pumps. And then he can watch me jerk off. Think he'd be up for it?
5:51 PM
Have you ever had Baja Tango? It tastes like orange creamsicle.
A list of memories, because of Baja Tango and those gorgeous eyes.
1. black Barbie dolls, which were pretty special. In Cape Breton everyone was white, freckled and drunk.
2. a very yappy dog.
3. the taste of fire.
4. the tree that rotted
5. the picnic on a hill-field above her grandmother’s, I was used to eating half a McCain double chocolate cake, but my third cousin just wouldn’t stop throwing up.
6. the bazillion worms that came out when we poured detergent in the ground.
7. croquet
8. dirty carrots
9. the swing that went down with it.
A little while ago, your elbow bone brushed against my ankle bone. It rested there for an hour.
3:19 PM
10.03.2003
OH MY GOD!!!! Break OUT THE MITTENS!!!Where are MY MITTEEEEENS?!!!!!
7:44 PM
10.02.2003
I believe I am a very messy person.
"I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow."
Scarlett O'Hara. Sizzle. sizzle.
My baby sister called me the night before last looking for my parents because they weren't answering the phone. She apologizes for being so weird, she was just worried a little bit. She starts to cry. She found her friend Chris on the sidewalk bawling his head off. She thought a tree ran through his apartment or something. No. His best friend died the day after the hurricane.
He went to sleep and never woke up.
And then she's speaking in a big rush of words about Alex and she knows she's being silly, but why isn't mom picking up the phone and she heard there was big car accident and...
Ok. So I knew my parents were fine. And I have to be calm. Except, everything is crunching up. And hearing Alex's name from my sister, and her friend o.d's and then thinking, what if she's right?
Yup, everything is crunching up. I have a new chant, it goes "keep it together, for FUCK SAKE'S, keep it together."
5:01 PM
An eight year old near the Public Gardens.
"Ohhhh, this is reeeeally bad. That was a nice tree. That was a good tree, too."
Last night, at Salvation, Phil came out and sat down on the deck.
"Philip. You need a haircut."
"Sure, I'll get a haircut."
"I want to cut your hair, but just the bottom part, cause I don't want to be responsible for anything."
"Are you drunk, Claudette?" says Phil.
"Yes."
"Ok." And he handed me the scissors.
Phil's lucky I know all about restraint.
2:00 PM
Masquerade Ball tonight at Bella Muse. There's gonna be a pool of blood, a fashion show, bands, dj, booze and some performance art. I'm a dead nurse with a gun shot wound. Apparently I'll be doing something kinky with a dead guy in a wheel chair. Tobin said something about licking the blood off. And then I heard the word lap dance. But I draw the line somewhere.
Also, last night was fucking fun. Gerry sprayed beer all over the camera guy. Les Savy Fav was delicious. I have a hangover. Thanks alot Pop Explosion.
1:25 PM
10.30.2003
This email was in my inbox. I have no idea who sent it. Perhaps it was a mistake. But it made me feel better. Thank-you.
By the time the Lord made woman, he was into his sixth day of working
overtime. An angel appeared and said, "Why are you spending so much
time on this one?"
And the Lord answered, "Have you seen the spec sheet on her? She has
to be completely washable, but not plastic, have over 200 movable
parts, all replaceable, run on diet coke and leftovers, have a lap
that can hold four children at one time, have a kiss that can cure
anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart and have two pairs of
hands."
The angel was astounded at the requirements. "Two pairs of hands! No
way! And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for
one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."
But I can't," the Lord protested. "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18 hour days."
The angel moved closer and touched the woman. "But you have made her
so soft, Lord." She is soft," the Lord agreed, "But I have also made
her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."
Will she be able to think?" asked the angel.
The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be
able to reason and negotiate."
The angel then noticed something, and reaching out, touched the
woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model. I
told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."
That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!" What's the
tear for?" the angel asked. The Lord said, "The tear is her way of
expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her
love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride."
The angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of
everything! Woman is truly amazing."
And she is! Women have strengths that amaze men. They bear hardships
and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy.
They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry.
They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous. They
fight for what they believe in. They stand up to injustice. They
don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better
solution. They go without so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. They love unconditionally. They cry when their
children excel and cheer when their friends get awards.
They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding. Their hearts
break when a friend dies. They grieve at the loss of a family member,
yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They
know that a hug and a kiss can help to heal a broken heart.
Women come in all sizes, in all colors and shapes.
They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you.
The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning! They bring
joy and hope. They have compassion and ideals. They give moral support
to their family and friends. Women have vital things to say and
everything to give.
Pass this along to your friends to remind them how amazing women
are; because if there's one flaw in women, it is that they tend to
forget about themselves.
4:07 PM
10.27.2003
Someone from the old And crowd had just found out about Alex’s death.
“Oh Alex killed himself. Well, I didn’t know that.”
“Yes, the night of the Bondage Ball. Yes he did. That’s what he did.”
Look him in the eye. Stay here. Stay here, right here.
“Well, gee I saw Alex six months ago—
“Oh. Please don’t say it.” I grabbed his arm with both of my hands.
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup
“--at the grocery store. And he looked dead already."
11:12 AM
10.26.2003
Friday night I went to a party and there was some discussion about my eyes.
Drunk guy #1 "You have beautiful eyes. They're so big." Stands a little too close, won't stop staring.
Drunk guy #2 buts into conversation. "Yeah like Bette Davis eyes."
Oh God
#1 turns back to me and speaks in a breathy whisper. "Yeah like Bette Davis eyes."
#2 starts listing off songs. "Hungry Eyes!! She's got huuuungry eyes."
#1 gets pissed off.
"Her eyes aren't like that AT ALL. She does not have hungry eyes. You're an idiot."
A big fistfight ensues. Beers go flying. Cuts happen. I slip away and go home. Call the insurance company and put a million bucks on my eyes.
11:00 AM
10.23.2003
Random is fun. Random sentences make me very happy. Kind of like the word swollen. I love that word.
Nat came up to me a few weeks ago. She said "Claudette, wanna do a reading with me at Spoken Word."
We both grew up in trailor parks so we wrote down 8 sentences each. We took turns reading them without knowing what the other person said. I wish I could remember how it went because it was random and funny and then it all came together and made perfect sense. Nat is good at making things make sense.
I wish I could remember the sentences, but I chucked my piece of paper. Maybe on the ground. But I remember I did write this. Or I think so.
-We got back from Cape Breton and the car had red spots all over it. Dad said it had the measles.
-"What do call them anyway? Homes?"
-I wore a plastic superwoman costume and a plastic mask with holes for my eyes and my lips for three years in a row.
-The cat ran away with the cat. But really they just killed her.
-All of my meals came out of the microwave.
--She would cook whole chickens in there.
Germperil is random. Sort of. Wait a minute, what is the definition of random anyway?
Ok. It is "Having no specific pattern, purpose, or objective."
Well maybe germperil isn't random because there was a purpose, but it means absolutely nothing. The purpose was scam the spam, get rid of my old email address. So I took the first half of my last name and then I opened the dictionary and the first word I saw I tacked onto the end. It was "peril." Boy I love that word too. Germperil. I bet ya I'm being surveyed or watched just because of my email address, or maybe it's too obvious. Maybe the government's the one who mysteriously downloaded 'Live Girls' on my computer. Or maybe it was philip. Anyway germperil is great, considering terrorism and all, and at the time, terrorism was all over the news, especially anthrax. I thought it was funny. I've had other nicknames like Claudey and Cloudy.
Actually it's my old friend Kristina who gave me the nickname Cloudy. She was one of our close friends in high school. She was two years older than us. And she was from Florida. She was a slut. She loved sex and big dicks. She punched a guy for calling her a whore. Her father shot himself when she was 6 years old in the bathroom and she had huge knockers. Like I'm talking BIG. And skinny little legs. She told me her legs were skinny because she was knocked over playing basketball. And it knocked all the stuff to her tits and that’s why they were so big. She was a wild one, for sure. She wore really skimpy bikinis. G-string bikinis.
We always had parties at her house. I would shoot a pint of vodka and weird boys who wanted to sleep with Kristina would show up. One of them fell in a basket. It's all on tape. Kristina's mother was an alcoholic. When she was really loaded, my friend Jeff would knock her purse out of her hand and everything would go flying. And he would scramble all over the living room floor and steal her cigarettes. One of Kristina’s boyfriends pushed her down the stairs. She fell in love a lot. She told people to fuck off. She had great morals and a high sense of loyalty.
Kristina taught us how to give blowjobs. She taught herself how to play guitar. She had a beautiful voice. Then she moved back to the States and we all felt kind of lost and lonely.
She came home once. To testify at a rape trial. That’s a long story and I’m not sure how to tell it. Someone accused someone of raping her at one of Kristina’s parties. It was a birthday party and the birthday boy was accused. Anyway. The prosecutor said we were a bunch of sex crazed maniacs and that we had planned the rape together and were covering it up. That we were a clique and we were lying to protect our friend. Fucked up. There was a boob and penis cake at the party so I can understand how it looked bad. But no one was covering anything up.
She came home once and that was it. The next time she came home everything was very different. She was an aerobics instructor. She was Baptist. Hardcore Baptist. She said the Baptist church took her in when she was sad and lonely. She said the Baptist church made her feel loved and welcome. She said, “I was always looking for a father figure.” She was married with two kids. He was converted because of her and she was very happy. She sang us songs but they were only Christian songs. Lots of stuff about repenting for your sins. She wouldn’t sing any other types of songs because other songs were a sin. She told us about her sex life. She said she believed a wife should perform wife duties like having sex with her husband even if she didn’t want to. And she talked about burning in hell a lot. I’m sure she thought I was LOST LOST LOST.
While she was showing us video tapes of her wedding, her husband was fucking someone else. When I found out I was sad and angry at a man I had never met. How could he? How could he hurt someone who had been hurt so much?
4:56 PM
10.22.2003
I feel like putting on my black mini skirt and getting buzzed off whiskey sours. Instead I have to log tape after tape after tape of my shoot in Montreal. I’m so bored. Logging tapes is boring. I hate it.
In Montreal an old guy came up to me and said “Madamoiselle, a mouka la ka la smoke le cocaine avec moi?” What? Smoke cocaine with you? Crazy old man. Don’t people who snort coke have a cokedar, something like a gaydar?
Jenn and I just heard someone outside our window threatening to call his lawyer, so we opened the window and crouched on my desk to eavesdrop. Didn’t really get the gist of it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Plain standard fight talk. And “How can I help you if you won’t help me.” Ha ha ha.
I don’t care if you are trying to break into acting. Don’t talk to me about it. Stop smoozing. I hate suck-ups. And besides what you want to do has nothing to do with what I do. I work in TV, but I don’t come near actors. You’re driving me back home from the airport. I’ve been up since 5 am. And it’s out of context. I hate out of context. And even if I were some sort of movie producer, I would never hire you. Although I’m sure you’ll make a great extra some day.
4:52 PM
10.16.2003
Korea. 1998. Whoa. Too many love affairs in Halifax. Gotta jet. Gotta go go go. Thanks for the degree, sorry I didn’t bend, here’s to ya, but I’m out.
The place is a lego block and I’m in shock. “I’m here now and I ain’t NEVER leaving!!” Yellow umbrellas and watered down coffee. On the plane ride over, I need to piss 13 times. And the whole Asian world came crashing down.
“IMF” chuckles a business suit on the bus. “In Korea, we say that means I Am Fired. Heh hehe.”
7% unemployment. Have you been to Cape Breton dude?
“Go home, mi-gouk.” Spray painted on the road.
English teacher secrets. “You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself.” Sly little bitch. Let’s play Twister!!! Red. Green. Yellow. Blue. Left foot. Right foot. Violent Child #2. “Good Lord baby, does your dad beat you?”
Goldfish the size of basketballs. Bleached Russian hookers. Cheese is hard to come by.
Christmas Eve. Pusan. We’re in a taxi, on an eight lane highway. A drunk man rolls through traffic. Screeching and swerving. And no one stops. Yeah, baby, I’m in shock.
New Year’s Eve. Seoul. Black strap heels, western food and a riot. Pushing in and pushing under, the cops trap hundreds of us by linking arms around 4 city blocks, what am I supposed to do, it’s hard to breathe, and I’m swaying back and forth, a ribbon of people. Snap. Snap. Under I go and two hands grab and lift. We break free and run down a highway lined with riot gear. Just in time for the Count
Down.
Stick out your thumb on the highway. When you’re a white girl. The bus stops.
Camping on the beach. Get home and we’ve been robbed. Crap. No wait, just me! 2000 dollars and a camera. Why didn’t I hide my cash in the cereal box? The cops say I did it. What?! I robbed myself!!
Shitty.
3:40 PM
10.10.2003
Too much JD last night. I'm trying not to move my head, and walking is pretty much a write off. And my shirt has no buttons and it's safety pinned closed and Jenn saw my boob. I fixed it.
11:41 AM
10.08.2003
These are my grandparents. My grandmother was English. My grandfather met her during the War. He was a merchant marine. Anyway, he won her over by bringing her stockings and sugar. And then he stole her away from her family and everything she's ever known and made her live in Cape Breton. That's fine. She spent the rest of her life baking. They took a boat back from England. Even though they were married they weren't allowed in the same sleeping quarters. So they'd meet in secret and do it up against the smoke stack.
This is my grandfather shoving booze down some woman's throat.
And this is just this.
6:18 PM
10.07.2003
Holy shit. The most beautiful man in the world just parked his car in front of my house. I think he’s Spanish. I think he’s here to study with someone. God, where did he come from? Why can’t he be my neighbour? That’s it, I’m going back to school. I’m going to Spain, there’s probably clones of him everywhere. Holy shit. I want to toss his glasses to the sidewalk, rip his wool sweater off, grab his hair and…hmmm. I want to invite him over to the office. I'll pin back my hair, wear my pencil skirt and my pumps. And then he can watch me jerk off. Think he'd be up for it?
5:51 PM
Have you ever had Baja Tango? It tastes like orange creamsicle.
A list of memories, because of Baja Tango and those gorgeous eyes.
1. black Barbie dolls, which were pretty special. In Cape Breton everyone was white, freckled and drunk.
2. a very yappy dog.
3. the taste of fire.
4. the tree that rotted
5. the picnic on a hill-field above her grandmother’s, I was used to eating half a McCain double chocolate cake, but my third cousin just wouldn’t stop throwing up.
6. the bazillion worms that came out when we poured detergent in the ground.
7. croquet
8. dirty carrots
9. the swing that went down with it.
A little while ago, your elbow bone brushed against my ankle bone. It rested there for an hour.
3:19 PM
10.03.2003
OH MY GOD!!!! Break OUT THE MITTENS!!!Where are MY MITTEEEEENS?!!!!!
7:44 PM
10.02.2003
I believe I am a very messy person.
"I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow."
Scarlett O'Hara. Sizzle. sizzle.
My baby sister called me the night before last looking for my parents because they weren't answering the phone. She apologizes for being so weird, she was just worried a little bit. She starts to cry. She found her friend Chris on the sidewalk bawling his head off. She thought a tree ran through his apartment or something. No. His best friend died the day after the hurricane.
He went to sleep and never woke up.
And then she's speaking in a big rush of words about Alex and she knows she's being silly, but why isn't mom picking up the phone and she heard there was big car accident and...
Ok. So I knew my parents were fine. And I have to be calm. Except, everything is crunching up. And hearing Alex's name from my sister, and her friend o.d's and then thinking, what if she's right?
Yup, everything is crunching up. I have a new chant, it goes "keep it together, for FUCK SAKE'S, keep it together."
5:01 PM
An eight year old near the Public Gardens.
"Ohhhh, this is reeeeally bad. That was a nice tree. That was a good tree, too."
Last night, at Salvation, Phil came out and sat down on the deck.
"Philip. You need a haircut."
"Sure, I'll get a haircut."
"I want to cut your hair, but just the bottom part, cause I don't want to be responsible for anything."
"Are you drunk, Claudette?" says Phil.
"Yes."
"Ok." And he handed me the scissors.
Phil's lucky I know all about restraint.
2:00 PM
