2 songs - play a song for me [02 Nov 2009|11:30pm] [ mood | amused ] yay for frivolous spending. now i dont have money for clothes, cigarettes, or drugs, at least not beyond the week. i am happy though. tomorrow i write my essay, like, forreal. wednesday i need to go to davis to get my transcripts (fuck. i won't have money for that, either, but i'll figure that out.)(and actually i don't have to go to davis to get my transcripts on wednesday. i actually should wait to get them until after i get admitted, as per the instructionals. I already, however, cleared the afternoon, and i want to go see laura. thursday hopefully my frivolous purchase will be here in time for our frivolous thursday night. riday perhaps more frivolity, then a nap, and then i believe i will be getting drunk with Chris again. somewhere between wednesday and thursday i need to bullshit a paper for Emily on the goddamned book i didn't read, comparing it to the goddamned essay i didn't read. i am such a goddamned bad student. but, i mean, really, she was the first person who actually told me college was for learning to bullshit. it's actually from her i get the words i use - the whole point of college is to be able to talk about something intelligently without knowing anything about it. ugh. fuck. it's mignight. i need to get up and work all day tomorrow. i should go to bed. i'm not tired. i'm a little hungry, and my loins hurt. i also don't feel like not writing, if you couldn't tell. balls. i'm off.

1 song - play a song for me [02 Nov 2009|09:06pm] [ mood | high ] so i celebrated not having to spend money to try to go to college by going and seeing paranormal activity. sigh. i was really looking forward to it being the scariest movie ever. like, really. and it was good. the acting was good and so were the plot points. it was probably the best haunting movie i have ever seen. the possession scenes were eerily similar to the times jessica claimed to be possessed. it's just. well. my problem is the one i've always had. i am incapable of feeling real supernatural fear any longer. between the experiences i once truly believed were genuine, and the fact that my brother began force-feeding me horror classics at age three, i am immune. but i don't think i am alone. i know many people who are not scared by movies, people who manage to remain unafraid without the aid of quips and guffaws. and though i have never before argued for any negative effects of the over saturation of violence, etc. in our culture, because i believe that it has by and large been healthy, but i will say now that i believe there to be one drawback to the glorious level of gore we are accustomed to, and it is the same one used by mother of students murdered at Columbine: desensitization. i am so desensitized to the things that should induce fear in a human being, be it from too much blood in my videogames, or too much skepticism in my classrooms, that my subconscious response system feels like it can take a nap any time i willfully enter into a situation where animal instincts would normally be aroused. balls. and its not like my horror quest can ever end. i'm like the heroin addict whose just blown through a pound of pure, and can't get high on street shit anymore. there's no way i can come down from this tolerance level without dying, in this case, metaphorically (i could give up on horror all together, never watch another terror film again until i'm senile and on my deathbed and my nerves are shot). i would be a different person from now until then if i did that. i'm not ready to kick the habit yet. i've just got to keep looking for that golden syringe, that drop-pit feeling of watching night of the living dead for the first time at eight years old, on halloween, way after midnight, eating cndy from trick or treating or from a store-bought bag because your religion didn't allow evil pagan traditions like the costuming of children. because that is the ultimate. not the cringe and gag and squirm moments from movies like saw, when someone is mutilated on cue. those are the FLARF poems of the horror world. they might achieve the effect and offer momentary glimpses into what it means to be afraid, but not in the primeval way of true terror, not in the same way the characters being murdered on screen are pretending to feel, but in a more modern, twenty-first century way; slashers have evolved into terror of the physical, of the dementedness of the individual, and of the helplessness we all feel in the face of the big chemicals associated with death and pain. and i know that's what old horror movies were all about too, but they did it in a more literal way. even though they were all about monsters of childhood nightmares instead of crazy scott peterson step fathers, the were more literl. the real world doesn't have to play a central role in a horror flick. even though as adults we become afraid of boogeymen like rapists and alley grifters, we still fear them with the same parts of the spine that allowed us to see monsters under our beds and in our closets. it has always been, and always will be the unknown that scares us. which is why paranormal activity was good. it was totally about the supernatural, and it was very well executed. my problem might not even be with desensitization, but rather with exposure. every horror flick in the last three or four years, probably longer, have included the last frame, or part of the last scene, in the trailer. so the entire time i am watching, i am waiting for homeboy (micah) to get chucked across the screen and into the camera. just like in quaratine and cloverfield i waited for the bitches to get dragged off camera. i don't know what i am suggesting. nothing, really, since i have no voice. on the plus side, i got a lot of really good notes for my dystopian essay/novel. i transcribed, at least in images and phrases, the entire The Twenty, also known as Firstlook. the results were pretty astounding. i hadn't realized how on the money i was, even though i totally knew i was on the goddamned money. every single commericial tied in to the work force somehow, brought the viewer back around to the working mind. alright bitches. i'm going to go look at things online i can spend my money on frivolously.

play a song for me [02 Nov 2009|04:20pm] [ mood | stoked ] who's back, bitches? i hella got a fee waiver for my application fees, so i get to keep my motherfucking $120, and not die for two weeks. fuck, the fuck yes, hippie. and my application to sfsu was saved on file still, so i just had to update my classes and gpa, and bada bing bada boom, i am done with both school's applications, and it is only stoner time. here i was expecting some ridiculously long, drawn out process like last time. kick ass. there's even time left to work on my paper.

play a song for me [01 Nov 2009|12:11pm] [ mood | alone ] first two paragraphs of my paper are written, as is my conclusion. all of my quotes are pulled, and basically all that is left is to put words to the ideas of my explications. i will be fine. i need to start on the road. if anyone can make me enjoy kerouac, wyly can. i need to bathe and take care of bodily functions. i need to go to the bank and put money in it, so i can send out applications this week. i am lonely and horny and bored. i am worried i am going to do something stupid soon. i am terrified of the next person i meet who shows interest in me. i don't want to let the overwhelming relief of physical contact delude me into falling in love, like i did in my last two relationships. i wasn't ever in love with jessi, and while i did truly love kayce, i loved her for being my companion and confidant more than for her intelligence or ideals, her motivations. in fact, i mostly loved her in spite of those things. i loved her because she was mostly easy to love and i needed someone to love. i do not want to do that again. i don't want to wake up one day and realize i married some cunt because she has a nice chest to lay my head on. i am led to only one conclusion: i have to engage in casual sex. we all know how hard that is for me to do. it's quite the conundrum. i need to clear my mind and emotions with sex before i have sex with someone who could potentially be a girlfriend. not that i want a girlfriend, or am planning on wanting one anytime soon, but, if someone advances on me i know i will be powerless to stop my penis, and from there it's only a slight breeze away from falling falsely in love. alright. enough. i am going to go wash these feelings down the shower drain, and then i think i am going to play some cards with eddie and maybe dennis. you can bet when i get home though, i'll be making a similar entry.

play a song for me [31 Oct 2009|02:00am] [ mood | drunk ] i hung out with chris tonight for the first time in months. it was really good. we went to uncle bongs and had a couple pitchers. eddie was there randomly, and so was david-andrew, and chris' new girlfriend, lauren. it was little awkward meeting lauren. not because i am one of chris' good friends, and a they have been dating ffor however many months now, and i am only just today meeting her, which was what made for the awkwardness with kirsten and deserae, but becauase she was wearing kayce's old perfume. i was caught between wanting to get an erection (the scent is really quite intoxicating, in the truest sense of the term), and wanting to vomit. granted,, i was probably kmosly awkward for me, nd thats why im drunk now. it was really good to see chris. of all my friendst, i think he has grown up "" more thn anyone else, at leaat in the amerian dream sort of way. he is the friend i did couples things with when i was with kayce, is the one who is most earnest about work and responsibility, and now is going to be the person i cut loose with on friday nights. even if i aM not in a couple, i can pretend to be grown up with him. and by pretend to be i mean actually be. we decied to make it a regular friday night thing, going out drinking, kickin'it. its sucks that i have to relegate my life so devoting days to spedific firneds and takss, but its what has to be done to maintain basic human contact outside of the almost completely absorbing beurocracy i find myself accepting full part in. i wants to write... stories but need to finish editing. i just have the midnset to irtew and so i want to. at least when im drunk i write words in scrabbleannagram form, so you can maybe figuyre out what im saying tomorrrow.. balls. i needs to quit saying balls. fuck, i sont know what to say. drunk nd high and nothing on tv and no way to be productive and desperate not to feel sorry for myself. i hate thew idea of sleep. im thinking by my lack of typing ability i should maybe have not driven home, but i got home and so like all drunk drivers say, something that justify means because of ends or not being a next time and carfeulness. tomorrow i wqill be in davis with laura. i am excited. i havent been to davis since i left. i may want to go to the vampus and see if they are open so's i can get transcripts sent to me for to forwards to csu's/. i am worried i will see kayce there. i think she spends lots of time in davis now. i am so paranoid of seeing her. i don't know how ill react. theres so muvch hatred and pride and pther random emotion mixed up in the whole thing that my ears might start to bleed. that would be embarasing. i want. pissa.pizza/ pizza/ . period. i cant type periodsl; damnint so ill start saying stop stop i think thats all i have to say stop but i dont want to go yet stop i am not ready for bed or the swimming head in bed waiting for sleep stop amazing stop dangerously drunk stop close to spinning stop what the fuck stop drink on smoke and you wont choke stop smoke on drink and you will sink stop i smoked before i drank so i shoudlnts get sick but i think i got a little too hyphy why did i say hyphy i didnt get hyphy i just like saying hyphy i fogot about it like it was some old model of nike shoe stop goddamnit stop i need to go fuck off to sleep stop goodnight stop

5 songs - play a song for me [29 Oct 2009|11:32am] [ mood | anxious ] i am at work, trying to plan out my attack on transferring. i got an appointment with a transfer counselor on the goddamned 10th of next month. that only leaves twenty days before the deadline for submission. this is unacceptable. i get paid tomorrow. somehow i have to have enough money for my bills, and $110 for application fees. plus i am going to need to go up to davis and request official transcripts. i am lucky. my epic fail at davis only brought me from a 3.8 to a 3.56. my grades won't be a factor in my admission. i am fucking super terrified though, because of the budget cuts, and the lateness with which i am applying. i don't want to jump off any bridges, but i might have to if i get bent over one more time. anyways. i have to take poetry and english fucking four next semester, and also either a drama or shakespeare class, but those might/probably won't be offered. i think shakespeare might have gotten nixed after kathy rosengren left, but i dunno. even the poetry might not be, as a hundred and goddamned thirty-two sections are being cut next semester. i'll burn those bridges when i get to them. i am half excited, and half pissed about having to go through the stress of transferring again, this time for real, since i am transferring behind a goddamn educational iron curtain, and i won't have anything nifty like a transfer agreement, and i will have to actually rely on my scholarly merit. balls.

play a song for me [27 Oct 2009|07:35pm] [ mood | optimistic ] so i actually looked at the CSUEB campus in concord's website... (i think the ellipses should show how serious i am, as we all know how much i hate their usage for anything other than poetic and academic acknowledgement of something being missing) not only do they offer a BA in english (i wasn't sure if they would, because i think its just like an offshoot campus - i don't know. i have in my head all adjunct facilities are similar to solano's, where they offer dick) but the program, as far as classes offered and required, is probably the first one that has actually appealed to me out of the four other schools i have looked at for undergraduate work, at least as far as the straight-up English goes. gas and Fastrak, BART, or Amtrak fees will be my biggest worry, if that's the decision i end up making. i am going to apply to both HSU and the CSUEB, so i have my choice when fall roles around, but my intuition is telling me i am going to fold before the seemingly insurmountable odds of the pack-up-and-move mentality i am going to have if i only apply to HSU, and end up driving to concord every other day or something. on one hand i feel chumpish for even thinking about accepting another nearly unfathomable length of time here, but on the other hand I can't help but feel optimistic. this is the first real ray of hope i've had since i've gone back to school. i need to cancel some students or skip some classes and go talk to the people i need to talk to to get everything back fully on track.

4 songs - play a song for me [27 Oct 2009|05:24pm] [ mood | okay ] Cal stste hayward apparently just opened a campus in concord. i think i am going to look into that. i want to go to humboldt, if not for their classes (which are generic and lame), then for the environment, the inspiration, the drugs. but i am more than a little afraid that i am going to have the same issue there as i had at davis - yes, the school is cheaper, but i still have $500/month in bills, plus the rent and food and books and tuition and drugs and fun money i will be spending up there to worry about. and as much as the prospect of not having sex for another year and-a-half to two years, not to mention liviing with my father for that time, does not appeal to me, is holds the antitheses of appeal for me, i could commute to concord and hump out my degree. i don't know or care how, but all i have to do is get through my undergrad. i am not worried at all about grad school, partially because its not upon me yet, and partially because i am not longer going to have to worry about a portfolio. i don't know. i need to look into it soon. i have to apply to wherever i am going within the next month. bah. bitches.

5 songs - play a song for me [22 Oct 2009|08:08pm] [ mood | high ] I'll be goddamned if i am not incapable of writing a bad essay. i know absolutely nothing about the political workings or workers in iran, but fuck me if i didn't just write an awesome paper about them. actually i do know a little bit, but it's like my knowledge of algebra or spanish - i know just enough to confuse the fucking shit out of myself or anyone who actually knows what they're saying. anyways. now all i have to do this weekend is write a paper on kafka, and finish the handmaid's tale. i am not entirely looking forward to the kafka paper, because i am confined to a single prompt since i refuse to formally write my own and turn it in for approval. The prompt is along the lines of what i want to write about, but it is incorporating Camus' myth of sisyphus and using his terms as the parameters for discussion, and i don't actually think it applies to the novel as directly as michael thinks. K. never truly realizes the futility of his effort. he thinks he does, but he doesn't. maybe he does at the end, on the second-to-last page, but i still don't think he achieves the level of understanding I am talking about, Camus is talking about. whatever. tomorrow i will try to catch michael at his office hours, or maybe ask for an extra class meeting so i can think about it longer. he might give it to me. i kind of get special treatment. it is really cool, actually. since i left and came back, the professors treat me more like a colleague than ever. I was actually mistooken three times today for a teacher. i wasn't even dressed nice. i was in a hoodie and my disco inferno shirt. i think i have poison oak on my penis because i masturbate too much. i have a tiny tiny bit on the webbing between my middle and ring finger, and now my dick goddamned itches like its diseased, which i thankfully know it is not. you're welcome for that. anyways. now that i have my computer back and i have been once again frightened by the fragility and tenuity of the existence of my book. as soon as this kafka essay is done i am going to resume putting in my edits, and work until it is done. I think then it'll be ready to show people. i need to get some feedback. my eyes can't be the only ones to see the words before i attempt to do something with it. at the very least I should show the people who are in it. most of them. some of them are dead, or dead to me, and as such cannot be shown. one of my students wrote an amazing personal essay, and i have actually convinced her to expand it into a book, and she wants my help all the way, so we are going to start working on that pretty soon. if nothing else it will be a fucking interesting project and experience, and possibly could be something that springboards me into the world of editing and facilitates my own publishing (am i goddamned self-centered, or what?). i don't know. we'll see where it goes. i hope it goes, because i am in love with her story. I've got a couple stories i want to write elsewise, a couple books i want to read. it's time to get busy. oh yeah. i got my blue suede shoes. they fucking fit and they are fucking sexy as fuck. i just have to get other new shoes now, because they are not every day shoes. they are shoes i want to keep alive, wear only sometimes, have for years like a t-shirt or pants. i always thought it was vanity that drove people to own many pairs of shoes, and it is partly vanity that has been recently driving me to want to own many pairs of shoes, but i am beginning to see that it may well be more prudent than subscribing to the throwaway nature of the shoe industry: if i run through a pair of shoes every six months, that it two a year. but if i owned, say, one pair of shoes for every day of the week (not that i want that many, but, you know) then each pair would only be worn a cumulative two months per year, a little less. that means that it would take a little more than three years for all of the shoes to erode to the point of needing to be replaced - based on the data from continuous use of a single pair - but i strongly suggest that in this new experimental mode of shoe-wearing, the fact that the eroding accompanying the act of walking or running would be minimalized because no pair of shoes is worn every day. Not only does this equal less cumulative friction and erosion, but the shoe is also suddenly dramatically less likely to get wet or torn, burned or scuffed, etc. which is, frankly what accounts for much of my wear on shoes. I go trekking through the forest or the mud or i jump in puddles. i prop my feet up near campfires. sometimes i fall off of bikes or skateboards or just plain fall down. this damage will not be gained equally proportionally, since odds such as 1:7 do not actually hit one in seven times. Hence my conclusion that having that many pairs of shoes will extend the life of the shoes so far that less money will be spent on shoes in say, a six year period (we must allow for two cycles of degradation, at least, before we can see the benefits begin to compound) than if i simply bought and wore them one after the other. okay. i am done. sorry for boring you. i'm high, and so i wrote an essay on shoes. my bad. i'm going to go prepare for card night tomorrow night, and tonight's episode of sunny. oh. and i fucking lost my glasses, so now i constantly have headaches. that's why i got so high i wrote an essay about shoes.

play a song for me [21 Oct 2009|07:09pm] [ mood | annoyed ] i decided to try to get my money back on the robert hass tickets, because my class was cancelled today, and so i have no way of seeing if my teacher was planning on going, or how to arrange our meeting/travelling together, and because i am almost out of money, and i do not have enough to be going down to san jose, and even if i did, i have an essay due friday, and i sure as fuck am not doing it tomorrow. plus i get off at five i think, which would mean leaving directly from school, and the star are just not fucking aligning. but i cannot, even though the websites rules say i should be able to. so now i had to write the support a letter telling them how they suck. and im hungry and tired and lonely and i have to do homework but i want to rot my brain. bah.

play a song for me [20 Oct 2009|11:29pm] [ mood | depressed ] what a long time it has been since friday. i don't even feel like recounting it all. point of story: went to arcata, camped, left computer with book and midterm on it in arcata. drove back to arcata today, came home. on a side note, i am horribly depressed, and there doesn't seem to be a legitimate solution to my shit, shy of seppuku. i have a shitload of homework to do this week that is probably not going to get done. i still haven't finished the trial or the handmaid's tale, and i have a papers coming up for both, not to mention the essay on iran i have to write. I also have to go see robert hass thursday. i hope my teacher can go. i have no problem going alone, but i have a feeling i will be a lot more likely to go if someone else is involved. i spent too much money today driving back to get my computer. i dont have enough really to drive down to san jose, and i can feel my mind beginning to draw into itself, recoil from the idea of going anywhere, doing anything. anyways. it is late. i need to get up early. i also need to take care of bodily functions. goodnight.

play a song for me [14 Oct 2009|09:01pm] [ mood | groggy ] i went preliminary shopping for shoes today. i need like, $300 or $400 for clothes and shoes for the winter. like, $240 of that is for two pairs of shoes. i am not sure i like what i am turning into, but i am gonna go ahead and turn into it anyway. we'll see if i want to change once im on the inside. i am thinking of trying to get another stafford loan and using it to pay off my credit cards and buy the few things i need at present to be complete. on one hand, i really need to get my credit cards out of the way, and that isn't going to happen at the rate i am going. on the other hand, i do not want to hurt my ability to get loans at hsu. i need to actually apply to hsu soon, too. i will do it as soon as i am paid again from the school.

1 song - play a song for me [14 Oct 2009|05:50pm] [ mood | hungry ] i just got the wild things by dave eggers. i am going to explode, i think. i decided not to read it until after seeing the movie. i want no expectations beyond those associated with the names involved, and the ones pt in place by the trailers.

play a song for me [13 Oct 2009|06:01pm] [ mood | amused ] oh, and i hella have trenchfoot. that kinda sucks dick.

play a song for me [13 Oct 2009|05:50pm] [ mood | giddy ] beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, glorious day. it has been raining for twelve hours. it rained so much the roof at the tutoring center sprang five leaks. i got to go for my first rain-drive this morning. the only way the day could get any better would be if i got to go outside and have sex in the rain and mud. but that's probably just because it's on my mind a lot, like food to a starving person. i am going to have a shit load of homework to do this weekend, which will be interesting, because i am going to be in arcata, dicking off the whole time. i need to go read, maybe eat breakfast. i should bathe tonight, too. i have so much stuff i need to do, it's a wonder my mind is still in tact.

play a song for me [12 Oct 2009|07:42pm] [ mood | lonely ] man. today has been a day about boob jobs. first at work, mel told me she was planning on getting one, and now the only thing that's been on tv is true life: i hate my small boobs. i have come to two conclusions: one, i need to include a section in my dystopian essay on image advertising as well as generic consumer ads. two, all women with small breasts who want to spend thousands of dollars on surgery should just come to me for free, and i will make them feel beautiful. okay, not all. there is a line. it's not awesome when you feel like you're molesting a little boy. but they just need to give me an hour, and they'll leave my arms changed women. jesus, i'm a sad sack

4 songs - play a song for me [11 Oct 2009|12:52pm] [ mood | excited ] robert hass robert hass robert hass. hass, hass, robert hass. woo! we got tickets, and they are right outside the good seats, like, butted up against them.

play a song for me [10 Oct 2009|09:23pm] [ mood | awake ] what a beautiful day. i laid in med all day reading and writing, sweats and sweatshirt, wrapped in blankets, propped on pillows. two naps and a movie. now i am awake and hungry and horny, and i need to take a break before returning to kafkaland. apple jacks and cigarettes, here i come.

play a song for me [10 Oct 2009|01:36pm] [ mood | tired ] it's funny how homework can swing like a goddamned pendulum. Wednesday when i went to school i had no outstanding homework. now, i am 350 pages behind on my reading. and i have a paper on iran to start thinking about. i am going next weekend to arcata, so i have to do all this shit beforehand. i need to go over to the mall and trade in my copy of fallout 3 and reserve the game of the year edition with all the expansions. i will have to wait until winter break to play it though. otherwise i will fail. on the plus side i got my book electronically organized, and my first edit is finally complete, so i can begin putting in all the corrections and footnotes and the like. i still haven't decided exactly how or if i am going to break it up into chapters. i need to shower today. and again tomorrow. i need to bathe more regularly. fuck. i do not want to do all this reading. my eyes are tired. i need more of a break. i think maybe i'll cook something. i have not cooked in a while.

play a song for me as you put down your keys and say don't call me please [07 Oct 2009|10:49pm] [ mood | lonely ] i think i may be in trouble. or else i am even lonelier than i thought. either way i need to get laid and reassess from the other side. cept we all know that ain't gonna happen, so i need to get stoned and reassess... okay, yeah. i'm just really lonely. i need to finish editing my book. there is a short story i really want to write. so everyone knows how i'm a pessimist, right? well today i had my first non-pessimistic vision i've had in a long time. goddamnit if it wasn't kafka did it to me again. so we were talking about the trial and how K i the only sane person in the bunch, how his life was his punishment, and all of the implications attached to that, and we got back to Camus' Sisyphus deal, and the awareness of punishment, and the existentialist isolation going on. That, combined with both the lectures on Joyce i had earlier this semester, and my encounter with Finnegan's Wake last thursday, made me realize what i've always felt, kind of, but never understood. see, existentialism slips pretty easily into nihilism, which is often confused with pessimism, and often does go hand in hand with. i have never considered myself a nihilst, because like Kurt Vonnegut said, i like cats too much. anyways, the writers writing with this in mind, joyce and kafka in this context, wrote about this factoid/phenomenon, and while they perhaps captured it perfectly, they accepted the dead god as the new gospel. if teaching has taught me anything it is that the gap between heads and minds can be breached. sex and mushrooms have confirmed this for me long before i had the vocabulary to put words to it. i don't know. maybe this is simple, maybe this is something already explored, done, accomplished. it's just what and how i want to write for a while. maybe how i need to write for a while. i want to capture the missed connections and the effort necessary to land them. i want to capture the tragedy of human relationships, and the kind of beauty that can only arise out of such tragedy. and somehow i want to capture the scale on which all this is happening, every second. i need to go to bed. i have to get up early. i always say 'i love you' when i just mean 'turn out the light.'

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