the way i feel is an audible groan.
annoying neighbors across the street (not to be confused with the glee club next door) threw a party. first sign of trouble was a girl screaming, repeatedly for ten minutes, 'i don't have herpes. stop telling everyone i have herpes. stop spreading rumors about me. i don't have herpes.'
yelling at the neighborhood that you don't have herpes doesn't make it so. dumbass.
later some girl was saying 'shut UP!' and not in the way that would've been intended to silence someone. in the stacy whatshername way from that makeover tv show. i can't stand her. but makeover shows are a guilty pleasure. i always wanted to be one of those ambush makeover people.
anyway, some girl was squawking 'spread your legs more. oh my god! how long has it been since you peed?' to her friend.
someone was peeing. on the sidewalk. in front of the house. allegedly.
i wouldn't have believed it, but then some guy was yelling 'what are you guys doing out here?'
and the girl bragged about peeing on the sidewalk and showed him the puddle.
i didn't see anything. i didn't have my glasses on. and the streetlight was making it so that everything was shadows. this was all being yelled. right outside my bedroom window. painting an unfortunate picture in my brain.
i fucking hate retarded drunk people. screaming, yelling ridiculous conversations. just to hear themselves speak.
don't get me wrong. i'm giggly when i'm drunk. but drunk stupid people are the worst. and people three blocks away can't hear my laughter.
anyways, i'm awake again.
too much on my mind. despite distractions.
i spent a lot of time tonight reading the writer's blog. it's older, different from the photography one that is easy to keep up with, thanks to facebook.
there are so many short stories. i read them until my eyes burned, saved my place, and got into bed.
i would kill for an ounce of that talent. to write stories that are fiction.
i don't know. i guess my fiction is still me, for the most part.
i just want to write something that isn't me at all.
i don't know how.
i was also thinking, pouring a glass of water in lieu of a second beer... when i read a story he writes, or when i read a story nate writes, i always picture them as the character.
is that normal?
it doesn't matter much what the story is or what's happening. but in my mind's eye it plays like a movie, and it is always the author who is the character.
maybe that's why i want nina to illustrate my novel for me. so it eliminates that possibility, if i'm not the only person who does that.
because i have a clear picture of what charlie looks like. not really anyone else. they're more mixes of people i know.
i wish the thing was done. i wish i was in production mode. because i cannot wait to build the books. hold it in my hands for the first time. touch the fabric cover and flip the pages.
i want it so badly.
i want it to be good.
i don't know that it is.
i want to send everyone copies of it.
i want it filed on my bookshelf.
today was a strange day. i keep saying that. writing that.
i had a ton of laundry to do. from when my family was here staying with me, and just from living these past two weeks since i moved out of my-your.
my next apartment is going to have to have laundry. this is too annoying. that was too convenient.
kit's away, so i took all the laundry over there in the car. the stackable there is tiny, you can't wash much at once.
and until today, when i figured out the lint catcher, it would take like six cycles to dry.
what i pulled out of the lint catcher was unreal.
it was scary.
but i was proud of myself for figuring it out today, because i couldn't in the two months i was there. and kit didn't either.
and i looked. more than once.
anyways, so i started the first load. and turned on her tv. and started flipping channels.
it felt good, in a way. because i think i needed a mental break, to just zone out in front of the tv.
and i accidentally found a movie. all of three minutes into garden state, i found it.
and parked it.
i remember loving that movie. but i only saw it once.
i remember loving the soundtrack even more.
and even though i remember the story of zach braff discovering the shins and making their music part of the movie, i forgot that he wrote it.
i forgot a lot about it.
and rewatching it definitelly affected my mood.
i was already feeling odd. i woke up late, drank a bunch of coffee, and sat online for a while. then went over.
but seeing it again, it made me wistful. it made me want to meet some random boy and see what happens. i'm silly. he's squishy. i'm a prude. he gets attached. he goes to leave. i get left behind.
sounds pretty familiar. sounds an awful lot like my days with the sun.
i remembered them being on top of a truck. but didn't remember them screaming into the abyss. and i've been screaming lately. i love that it was in the rain. i wish i'd been dripping wet, screaming in the rain. how poetic.
and i didn't remember him kissing her then. but that was my favorite part, i think.
i remembered the little funeral in her yard.
i forgot the end completely. i forgot his story regarding his mother. i forgot about the drugs, and the filming of the scenes where he sits still and everyone else is moving at light speed.
the end did kindof annoy me, but it also made me cry. so it was effective, if nothing else.
i'm glad that my memory sucks, most of the time. i write down what i want to remember. everything else can seem like a surprise later. i have a horrible memory for movies and books. i blame it on my adhd that i've never been formally diagnosed with, but suffer from.
i took jonathan strange with me, to see if i could read more of that. i didn't think to go to the bookstore until i was watching the movie and well into laundry. i hate not finishing a book. especially one i'm 450 pages into. but i just don't know if i can make it. it's so slow. it's so long. whine, whine. and yes, i'd like some cheese with that.
i read only a couple chapters, during the baseball game i watched from start to finish - all four hours of it - after the movie ended.
so i guess i was there for six hours. maybe seven.
it was a long time.
i got a lot done.
and then i came home, excited to get online. only no one was there for a while.
i guess today was lonely for me. after that movie, i wanted a boy to curl up with in my bed. tangled feet. his hand on my bare belly, spoons.
and i just didn't have that. not even a contender. not even a thought of where to start to try to find one.
i guess that's the thing about this whole being-alone-for-six-months thing.
it's not that it's gonna be okay.
it's that it's okay to feel.
it's that it's okay to have fun again.
it's that it's okay to want someone around.
i wish i had a friend who did that for me. i kindof think of rob in that way.
the guy i'd be curling up with and falling asleep next to.
but you can only do that for so long and keep it platonic.
i know myself well enough to know that i'd be tempted to nuzzle. and it's all downhill from there. which is why i cannot.
reading cruddy, she talked about boy smell. in a good way. not in an ever-forgot-to-bathe-for-the-fourth-day-in-a-row way.
i miss boy smell.
i miss boy deodorant.
i miss the slightest change in a room when a boy has recently passed through it.
it's not even a cologne thing. i mean, i went through that phase. but it hasn't been a factor in many years.
it can be as simple as shampoo. or laundry detergent that isn't what i use.
my sense of smell has always been keen. i smell things before other people. i smell slight variations in scents.
so if a boy has passed through my space, i am aware of it.
and no boy is passing through my space.
and no matter how much time passes, i can remember what each boy in my life smelled like.
and to this day, when i smell those scents, i am transported back to them again.
the sun smelled like tea tree oil sometimes, because he put it in his dreads. but he always smelled like speed stick. the clear brown one. i have used it on and off since before i met him, just because i love it so much. but he smelled like that.
coffee smelled like pantene. and i know he liked sandalwood. and burned a lot of champa. but who didn't, in that circle? i used to burn it in my car and my room. everywhere i went, i wanted that smell. i bought champa oil so that i would smell like that, but it just wasn't the same.
it is my absolute favorite smell. vanilla is a close second. coconut might tie vanilla.
the bartender smelled like clean laundry, but it was his cologne. joop for men. i worked with this boy who wore it years later, and it used to make me crazy.
chris smelled like aspen. it was high school. i can be forgiven.
my dad wore cool water forever. i liked it so much, i used to wear it.
what can i say? i've always liked boy smell. so much so that i often partake.
i broke from that a while back.
forever my favorite perfume was angel. but i can't afford it. well, couldn't. so i stopped wearing it. before that, briefly, i liked rush. but it was too sweet, and too many jersey girls here smell like it, so i'm now completely over it.
a few years back, i discovered egyptian musk. nina had me hooked on china musk since nineteen. she had a bottle in her car that was green oil with a white lid. that was the best one. henry honda smelled like that. on the same token, my car has a bottle of egyptian musk in it, which spilled out, so now my car has that smell.
i alternate now between a warm amber perfume that is spicy and comforting to me, and coconut vanilla musk, which smells like a day at the beach: warm skin, suntan lotion.
i found this bottle of sandalwood oil when ever and i got married and moved up here. we stopped at south of the border, and in their gift shop, they had this oil. it smelled fantastic. it was the best sandalwood scent i've ever found. but the lid wouldn't seal, and now i have two boxes of bathroom stuff that smells like the oil, and no bottle anymore. i don't know if it can be replaced. but the first couple years i lived here, that is what i smelled like. something about it reminded me of my grandfather. the hair cream he uses. top brass. love that smell.
at kit's the other day, i found a bottle of sandalwood perfume that she has. but it smelled much better in the bottle than it did on me.
everyday i use sandalwood soap that i buy in chinatown in high volume. i've learned that a bar lasts anywhere from two to four weeks. i wish it stayed on my skin, but it just doesn't. the smell when i'm in the shower is one of the best things about getting out of bed in the morning.
other than my own smells, and boy smells, there are other smells i love.
the way my favorite aunt's house smells for instance.
the way my clothes smell when i'm home and do laundry there.
the way my car smells when i remember to buy those cans of coconut scent that only last for a few days.
the way my apartment smells after i clean the floors.
i love the smell of breakfast cooking, minus the eggs, despite the fact that i never eat it.
i love the smell of a hot oven, with sweet things baking inside.
from the time i was little, i loved the smell of pumping gas. i always used to leave the windows down when i fill the tank. but i think i'm outgrowing that one.
there are a lot of things i love the smell of.
it's after two.
at least now i'm tired. i have to go to bed early tomorrow night, because i'm up at 530 on monday and tuesday.
i hate thinking about work on sunday. i hate having to prepare a day early.