2003-01-11

threeplusfire: (death)
2003-01-11 01:07 am

I come from the water

After complaining about how I didn't want to listen to any of the cds I own, Gene took me down to Cheapo's on Lamar, which is one of the best cd stores in town in my opinion. Because every time I'm there, I find something I had forgotten all about.

Like this Machines of Loving Grace album that James owned. I never bought a lot of stuff, because James had it and we hung out all the time anyways. But we listened to this cd a lot in 1995, while we screwed around on the net, and played endless rounds of gin in that apartment. We were left on our own so much and could have gotten into horrible amounts of trouble, but we somehow escaped most of it. Cause we did get up to no good, but nothing really bad, just goofy teenage stuff. Like the weekend we were left completely on our own, and we redecorated his father's apartment. I taped playing cards up on the ceiling and the wall above the shower tiles, and built my homage to Andy Warhol on the table with a couple dozen Campbell's soup cans. We put huge sheets of butcher paper on the living room walls and wrote and colored all over them with markers and those metallic star stickers. Rearranged all the furniture, all while blasting music and drinking far too much soda. We lived on Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper, chips and salsa, breakfast tacos, chicken strips, cookies and random junk. It was the perfect sort of thing to do as a teenager.

After that, we went to Metro, for a quick coffee and discovered a large crowd taking over the front corner by the stairs. Much random and amusing conversation was had. James is student teaching at a high school this semester, AP U.S. History, and I can't wait til he starts grading essays. We will have a good laugh, I'm sure. He looked quite snazzy in his work clothes. It's smokey in there. Everyone's back in town and classes start Monday. Gods above, do I miss school.

My random observation: why oh why, after all this time, do I still find it hard to confess to liking another person? It's ridiculous really, how I hedge around the issue. I should grow up and overcome this shyness. Because I can't act like I'm seven forever.

We drove home listening to the Toadies, really loud and singing along. You have to be glad for a friend who will sing along with you in the car. It put me in an impossibly good mood. So here we sit, headphones on, typing away on our computers. I have iced green tea, and it's good. Melynda's gone to bed, cause she stayed out too late and has to be in early at work tomorrow.

I'm going to see Cate tomorrow and it will be wonderful. She has the coolest back tattoo in the world.
threeplusfire: (king)
2003-01-11 01:07 pm

(no subject)

It's frigid, and I'm restless. I need a car, so I can get down to South Congress and meet Cate later on. Find sweater, find boots, brush hair, drink something with caffiene to take away the nagging edge of hunger and crankiness.

The green tea is good, however.

A good thing my cellphone display lights up when someone calls, or I wouldn't notice with my headphones on. Estimated time of arrival.
threeplusfire: (short david bowie)
2003-01-11 01:35 pm

ramble about the cd player

I picked up this cd because Michael and Loren play it often in Metro, so it's forever associated with coffee and darkness and cards in my mind. Plus there is a song on here titled "Spite & Malice" with references to playing cards, and we play that game often enough for me to find it funny. I don't think I ever realized in Metro, because I never knew the titles of the songs.

And now I'm listening to "Special K" and wondering why the hell one would want to do take pet medicine. Awhile back there were a couple robberies of clinics and my mother was wondering why the hell they stole the euthasol in addition to the ketamine. Euthasol is used for euthanasias, for the record, and I can't imagine why the hell one would want to use that. I suppose one isn't overly concerned with impending death when one is desperate for a fix.

Which reminds me that Rolling Stone has a creepy article about crystal meth this month. (No, I never buy this magazine anymore, especially not with Justin Timberlake on the cover, it just shows up in our mailbox for some unholy reason) I knew a couple people in high school that did meth. It's absurdly easy to procure and make, and I'm surprised that it's not more of a problem than it is already. I mean god almighty the stuff eats your brain up. The chemical reaction, the physiological aspect of it is just unbelievable.

Gene's up. He cut his hair this week, short again, and in the mornings it is spiky, short mohawk like. He doesn't believe me when I say it looks good. But then again, he probably is still half asleep and when does he ever believe me anyhow?

You know, I never realized it was so easy to say.

I forgot this year. I forgot. And then I realized it doesn't come for another two days, and it just feel so strange. Because things happen sometimes and you think you will never get over that loss and that pain, and sometimes it isn't so bad and you have to wonder at yourself. Six years, and it feels like so much longer, and sometimes like it was only last week. But I'm not that girl anymore, and I'm not there, and it's okay.

I'll be okay today.
threeplusfire: (crystal ball)
2003-01-11 07:11 pm

(no subject)

You know your life is something else, when you find yourself standing in the drizzle on a freezing Saturday night in front of the Continental Club on South Congress, attempting to fix a bizarre windshield wiper accident with one of your close friends. In truth, it was hysterical, and Cate is a genius with packing tape.

I went down this afternoon and watching some of her tattoo get colored, which is just amazing to see. It's so beautiful, and just so surprising hidden under her clothes. We took a quick trip to buy a new windshield wiper blade, and then to Magnolia for food. I stuffed myself on eggs and potatoes, and split cherry pie with Cate. Lots of good stories and much great joy was shared. I shouldn't go a month without seeing her. So much happens.
threeplusfire: (thoughtful)
2003-01-11 11:58 pm

scattershot

a frieght train running along the highway
all the lights are out between 45th and 2222

Work on recognizing the difference between the real and the imaginary, Gemini.

the warmth at home makes my fingers burn over the keys

paper tigers

sixty some miles today
and there's water on the windshield
all the way home