1.31.2006
Well I’m mentally exhausted. Walk to the streetcar without wobbly leg…what is this? You learned the power of emotional removal when you were a kid. Awesome.
Except in the doctor’s office you spend a bit of time gulping while he takes blood from your spaghetti vein. He just asked you a question and now you’re all bambi eyes on him.
Maybe it’s the Portuguese accent.
If I think just a little too much about the last couple of years I get hysterical. My eyes hurt. Did you know.
A heartbeat is a galloping horse on the ocean floor.
5:42 PM
1.27.2006
Last night I looked at my piles of books. Now they’re like half eaten sandwiches. Gone the three John Irvings in hardcover. Gone No Logo, This Blinding Absence of Light, Barney’s Version by Richler, Fall on your Knees, The Poisonwood Bible and other Kingslover books, Bulgakov’s Master and the Margarita, Solomon’s Song, and more and more. 30….40 books.
One of the books he took. The Beach. Alex gave me this book for my birthday years ago. There’s an inscription inside with a cut out of my horoscope.
He stole my books. My favorite books. And sold them for drugs.
I took a bath. I tried to hold the water in my fist.
9:38 AM
1.26.2006
I'm all into the valley girl accent.
"Pizza number one tastes like rubbuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrr."
1:07 PM
1.21.2006
Today Blonde White Puffy Vest and Her Boyfriend stopped their silver car in Kensington Market and start hollering at this sweet biker (all cyclists are sweet).
"This is my car!! My car!! My car!!" she was screaming and charging towards the woman and grabbing at her elbow.
A crowd gathers. People like to watch. It breaks up the day. There's always hecklers. "Go home." "Fuck off." "Don't come back."
The car is stopped in the middle of the streets and blocking traffic on Augusta. Another cyclist says "You're blocking traffic. Go away."
The boyfriend starts abusing pedestrians. "Wanna go?" he says to some old guy. Then they speed off, really quickly, in that angry way, speeding around tight corners way. Then they stop their car and Blonde White Puffy Vest gets out and runs back towards the scene and starts screaming at the cyclist again. The cyclist says, "But. you. hit. me."
Blonde Puffy doesn't care and just yells "My car! My car!"
Then she goes back to her car, parked down the street and the Boyfriend takes a baseball bat out of the trunk and she wrestles it away from him but not before he beats the crap out of the cyclist, the old guy, and the lady who sells naan.
Then everyone in Kensington Market gets together and rolls the silver car. Someone holds down Blonde Puffy, right in front of Burrito Boys, while the cyclist cuts off her ponytail with her Swiss Army knife, whips out some kerosene, conviently located in her basket, and pours it all over the managled ponytail, and throws it at the silver car. And it bursts into really big black clouds of fire.
Then a bunch of people take off their clothes and start pounding on their drums. Someone lights a joint.
4:40 PM
1.02.2006
Thanks to everyone who said something sweet, encouraging and supportive downstairs or sent emails. Shelley, Eric, Kim, Christine and Tweedie. Yer all like perfect little crystal balls. Can I carry you in my pocket? Even though I seem dismissive sometimes..I don't mean it. ...I just like to be right. Hehe. Nooooo, really. Also, as you can see my mood swings are FANtastic.
10:02 AM
Well I’m mentally exhausted. Walk to the streetcar without wobbly leg…what is this? You learned the power of emotional removal when you were a kid. Awesome.
Except in the doctor’s office you spend a bit of time gulping while he takes blood from your spaghetti vein. He just asked you a question and now you’re all bambi eyes on him.
Maybe it’s the Portuguese accent.
If I think just a little too much about the last couple of years I get hysterical. My eyes hurt. Did you know.
A heartbeat is a galloping horse on the ocean floor.
5:42 PM
1.27.2006
Last night I looked at my piles of books. Now they’re like half eaten sandwiches. Gone the three John Irvings in hardcover. Gone No Logo, This Blinding Absence of Light, Barney’s Version by Richler, Fall on your Knees, The Poisonwood Bible and other Kingslover books, Bulgakov’s Master and the Margarita, Solomon’s Song, and more and more. 30….40 books.
One of the books he took. The Beach. Alex gave me this book for my birthday years ago. There’s an inscription inside with a cut out of my horoscope.
He stole my books. My favorite books. And sold them for drugs.
I took a bath. I tried to hold the water in my fist.
9:38 AM
1.26.2006
I'm all into the valley girl accent.
"Pizza number one tastes like rubbuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrr."
1:07 PM
1.21.2006
Today Blonde White Puffy Vest and Her Boyfriend stopped their silver car in Kensington Market and start hollering at this sweet biker (all cyclists are sweet).
"This is my car!! My car!! My car!!" she was screaming and charging towards the woman and grabbing at her elbow.
A crowd gathers. People like to watch. It breaks up the day. There's always hecklers. "Go home." "Fuck off." "Don't come back."
The car is stopped in the middle of the streets and blocking traffic on Augusta. Another cyclist says "You're blocking traffic. Go away."
The boyfriend starts abusing pedestrians. "Wanna go?" he says to some old guy. Then they speed off, really quickly, in that angry way, speeding around tight corners way. Then they stop their car and Blonde White Puffy Vest gets out and runs back towards the scene and starts screaming at the cyclist again. The cyclist says, "But. you. hit. me."
Blonde Puffy doesn't care and just yells "My car! My car!"
Then she goes back to her car, parked down the street and the Boyfriend takes a baseball bat out of the trunk and she wrestles it away from him but not before he beats the crap out of the cyclist, the old guy, and the lady who sells naan.
Then everyone in Kensington Market gets together and rolls the silver car. Someone holds down Blonde Puffy, right in front of Burrito Boys, while the cyclist cuts off her ponytail with her Swiss Army knife, whips out some kerosene, conviently located in her basket, and pours it all over the managled ponytail, and throws it at the silver car. And it bursts into really big black clouds of fire.
Then a bunch of people take off their clothes and start pounding on their drums. Someone lights a joint.
4:40 PM
1.02.2006
Thanks to everyone who said something sweet, encouraging and supportive downstairs or sent emails. Shelley, Eric, Kim, Christine and Tweedie. Yer all like perfect little crystal balls. Can I carry you in my pocket? Even though I seem dismissive sometimes..I don't mean it. ...I just like to be right. Hehe. Nooooo, really. Also, as you can see my mood swings are FANtastic.
10:02 AM
