twenty years in the making

I am so annoyed that I cannot sleep. Why can I not sleep. I feel like this always happens on the dawning of my birthday. I am awake and I do not know why. Oh. mygod. Its bad too. I already have a terrible problem with hindsight. I could look through it forever and never come up for air or Real.

Here I am, lost back in time two or three years ago (it was three now that I think about it) in a house on 11th avenue where I am too stoned to move or understand how i know this kid that keeps talking to me, this is the first time, i am stuck in this house and everything after that, all these people these faces, faces faces faces-
and theyve been there somewhere always been here but i forget now im back in really cold snowbanky cigarettey whiskeyland Minnesota where people talk too loud and slow
and there are bros who bleed purple and take dips with flannel

and where was i three years ago when i was dumb and turning seventeen and made myself a mini drama
and oh look

hindsight

i learned alot since then i guess

-

but then i think again to dark cold winterpasts
and think of dudezone and the red glow on wood floors and Purple Rain or 40classic hits (or whatever that record was called, i know csank could correct me really easy)
and how much i TooMuch drank and how the care we had for each other was weird and Off a bit but in a way I cant describe

faces faces faces
why am i awake.

no really. i think its weird that i went to the minnesota state fair and saw people i knew. i think its weird that this kid i met in the glen knows this girl that looks like me in minneapolis. i think its weird that you cant escape olympia in cities that are actually big. i think its weird that how many years have passed? really?

-

i dont know why im awake
i hope twenty year old meg is as lucky as the seventeen year old one. less crew more prosperity i dont know though heres hoping.

Last night in Minneapolis I saw a big green sign for Scooterville. I dont know what it was but a sure sign of something, especially in the midst of snowbanks and slush that remind me of puffy jackets and golden jewelry circa 1992.

Anyway.

Maybe for my birthday I will turn Responsible.

the thing is, toaster doesnt get it,
willy haine yelled at me adn said YOU HAVE A SOUL MATE
TTHATA IS DAWSON AND JOEY SHIT RIGHT THERE

and the moere that i thought about it
the more it became true i guess

but reallyi hage a soul mate

i dont care becasuse facebook do3esnt love me noone does but im at klecker chirstmas and tahhattt is scarrrrrry enough and soulmaters are not real in this wordld. only ROSEvilllle.

flrget me. please.

Also, I think that A) 'Hardcore 7"s' is the best Facebook application I've ever seen, and B) Going to college for Aesthetics must be some sort of cheating

Tis nice to be in the midwest; there is snow on the ground and processed food in the fridge, my little brother cant stop arguing with my parents.

This morning I went to Matthews for breakfast with my dad and my grandma, this is the only restaurant in Circle Pines I think. We talked about Christmas and my dad complained about going to church, he said Maybe we Should Sit On The Other Side of the Sanctuary This Year, Well Throw Them All Off!

But then Grandma reminded him that Hayes family who always sits behind us would then get confused and since this is how its been for the twenty years of my existance, I daren't argue if even for my father's Christmas sanity.

My stepdad told me to wash my hair
and then he told me he was going through the application process of working for DOC as a guard at Stillwater. To which I had a slight panic attack, to which I tried to explain why this was a horrible idea, to which i then thought about the fact that since his fire department retirement, delivering fruit and painting houses hasnt been the greatest for my family for my parents,

and i realize that working for DOC is one of the only state jobs that John could qualify for, and that getting a state job is a surefire way of us getting any kind of financial stability,
and yes i can come home and blather about why the prison industry is evil and why we should not support it but what do i know about supporting a sixperson family

and think abot this so DOC money is going to put me in college so I can go to Gateways and talk all this theory and in my own family it is being proven to me that the economy loves jail and jail makes jobs and me myself cant live this life unless being supported by this job in this jail
gah

i could blather forever but maybe I will wait for January 5th first Check In of the year. im not sure i make any sense anyway.

Financial Indifference.

The government sent me 104 dollars in "unclaimed" funds yesterday. I like surprise money, because it is and always will be blood money.  I cashed 25 of it hoping to buy a bottle of booze, but instead I lost the money. Lastnight was Niki's going a way party and Oni got me a hotdog.

Funky Little White-Out

So downtown has had a christmas face lift in the last two days. The snow has continued to stick, and I would say that we have a good 2 or 3 inches. A strange blizzard olympia. This morning I went to SIZIZIS, new black 24 hour cafe, and read and wrote and felt more productive then I have in a long time. The coffee was acidic and strong, and the mood was more sinister-antique then I had anticipated. Elegant wood working, i wish I had brought a comic book. I saw Am'Lee bobble by, and ran into her later at clubside with david. She had eaten a hamburger. Meatfest 08 is underway. I ate some great fish and chips lastnight that oni swipped from fishtale. We watched some of the CIVIL WAR documentary and got tired. Cold feet, I want to take a shower, but I have to wait for the UPS truck to deliver skinny jeans. I wish there was a 'Skippers' downtown. I had a dream lastnight were my old neighbors put up some rad glow in the dark wallpaper.

diablogical dreaming

this morning i woke up on a pull out couchbed with two friends and they asked me to tell them a bedtime story but i had just woken from a dream and in this dream i was stoned and so i said no i'm too stoned dreaming to tell it and they laughed but in this dream i was on an island probably Jamaica or Antigua i think so on this island i smoked weed at the island version of the big scary black house and kevin and i sat on the chair together smoking and talking and caroline biked there and she got naked on a toilet and loaded a bowl and there was this huge bridge to cross to get to the funky island downtown but the view was so different but so the same too and rosie was walking in front of me wearing a bomber jacket and i spray painted gold letters on the back of her jacket that said Rosie Loves Reno the view was so different and gus was there and he and i walked around the island Antigua? and we looked at jewelry and a computer shop and i had ferry anxiety because the boat was leaving so i went to the YMCA and the doors kept getting smaller once i was in there and it was more and more anxiety feeling and i was given mac n cheese and other foods on styrofoam plates i don't think i made the ferry because i was stoned in antigua.

I remember when we first let ourselves have armpit hair;
and ate mac and cheese sitting in circles on the floor in the soup, weird boys on drugs crawling through the window and empty Carlo Rossi jugs collecting dust on empty surfaces.I remember the four of us and how we'd stomp around to Janis and have parties for no reason and convince people to give us their car. How we were going to GET A HOUSE! and MOVE OFF CAMPUS! and BE REAL PEOPLE!
and it was exciting.

Last night downtown Olympia was LetTheFreshmanOffCampus night I think, there were little girls in cute unique outfits sitting at Cafe Vita planning to get a house together. Talking about staying the summer. Talking about making lives together making lives with Olympia being excitedexcited and feeling grown up. It was a weird feeling, that knowing feeling. Looking at them with a smile and remembering my first fall quarter,

How ultimately exciting yet ultimately horrifying everything was and how I really was making a life for myself although I hardly knew it.

I am reading that book that there are millions of copies in the attic of the SafePlace business office, that book thats called Listen Up. And theres a story I read today and this girl talks about growing up, she says,
I was just waiting for my life to begin.

I realized today when I read the SafePlace book that thats all that I do, I just wait for my life to begin. I plan. I plan and plan and plan. And at the end of this plan, is my life, whenever I will actually get to it. When exactly do I think that my life is beginning? When will things actually happen for me when will I feel like I'm living- Is it ever going to feel like its real?

This is how I felt when I packed all my life up seven suitcases two carry-ons three boxes and more in the mail. This is how I felt when I got ready to leave for Olympia, I felt ready for my life to begin. And ever since, I think I've kept on waiting. So why have I not thought about that freshman land and how and what it did to me and who I've become since? Is this the life I've planned on? Isn't what I'm living what I planned to do six months ago?

Everything seems so beautiful in hindsight. This we know. So warm and cozy we can curl up with nostalgia and eat if forever just like Danny's pasta. But why is it so great when its not happening and why is it also so great when it hasn't happened yet?

You've got the world at your fingertips. You're young, you're beautiful, you're intelligent, you're happy. You can do so many things and you can go so many places. But you've got to believe in yourself, and believe in where you can go and what you can be. And to do this you must see where you've already gone and what you already are. And that's where it gets hard.


I remember that first winter here and the way we all exploded into ourselves. Amelie joined a million student groups, fell in love with a million things, smoked a million Newports, and told me a million times "Fuck the Patriarch". Becca got grown up and got writing and got a tattoo. Joelle put up a tent in the field, taped her hands in to claws, ran away to a meditation retreat, dropped out, bought a boat, got banned from Safeway, Lord Knows Really.

I can't remember what happened with me. Maybe I conveniently forgot. But I would like to explode into myself again sometime soon. And this time, I have some idea of what to do with it.

Reminiscing of times gone down the drain.

Sitting home and I wish I wasn't. But I am staying faithful for an appointment to talk. Scheduled conversations could be uncomfortable for multiple parties. I almost said something today in class, and I remain proud of myself for attempting to attempt. We are pondering the absence of matter that a screen is. It is the first time we have attempted to cover some thought figures that can relate to something other then themselves. This can be political; or social in the very least. Maybe I'll forgo a power internship? With SweetTooth in Seattle, and Magoo somewhere else, I am at a loss about what to do. The new record player is spinning with the needle off of the vinyl. The sound it makes as it travels round fits well with the rain dropping. Scattered entries can be productive. Poem, Paragraph, or Traditional Autobiographical Diary Entries, We remain a tolerant blog (and I pray that this entry will not be an exception.) I went to Sarah's work to apologize and A lady who doesn't work there questioned my age; she looked like the sort that I could feel okay about judging on appearance. In short, I didn't want to speak with her any longer then I had to, so I said I was under 21 to avoid questioning and further contact. The further contact would have obviously been a demand to see identification. Even though it would have taken 3 or 4 extra seconds to fib in a recreational manner, saying that I had absentmindedly forgotten it at home, I was through looking at this woman.    She then requested that I remove myself from the bar. It was a sorry walk home, I didn't even really get to say I was sorry. No phone at home alone. Economic tsunami.     

thriving, teasing, timeworn

little sad lonely night:
smoking outside my window
feet on canoe,
smoking lavender producing
less sleep than ever.
suppressed laughter and potsmoke
is creeping under/over the hall.
the women in blues-history
is less inspiring, out of mind
when emptiness of computer screen wins always.

laughter is less suppressed
when it is pulled out couches,
miles south, splurge and slumber
retelling proven to be apathetic.

for fuck's sake! (does) reflection change anything