Some Things I Have Learned In 2009 (Year of the Crew):

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

Grandmothers may not like Chainsaw tattoos, and Chainsaw tattoos may not go over well in Elementary Schools, but Chainsaw tattoos do a lot for the heart.

When your father proves to have a penchant for strangling people and attacking cars with axes, and he disowns you via text message, he just may be a psycho, and it may be just fine to identify as having "Daddy Issues"

Cigarette butts are not biodegradable, it is dumb to have believed that for six or seven years, ever since someone told you and was obviously trying to make fun of you, duh.

The Free Willy song will never be performed again, but it will sing forever in my heart.

I should never ever go on cruises.
Similarly, I should never ever drink Woo-Woos.
And Similarly some more, puking in an outhouse in the Alaskan wilderness really, really sucks.

It is a bad idea to scrub yourself with tumeric when you are very drunk and you have been freak dancing all night and you have some irrational paranoia of having Scabies. Unless you have nothing better to do than be bright yellow.

Irrationally deciding to cut important people you love out of your life is not a good idea.

Making things better with important people you love is a very very good idea.

If you live on tallboys 27s hangoverjunkfood and Performance Drugs, you will definitely in fact totally lose your mind.

Prince and Dolly Parton are still immensely better than anyone else, ever. Duh.

roses and lemon trees and two canaries she sang to

You see that cloud over there? Darius said.

See what?
Where?

The One next to the one that looks like Popcorn.
That one there.
See That.
That's God, Darius said.

God? Somebody little asked.

God, he said,
and made it simple.


- - -

Perez has a slight limp-
He was going as fast as he could-
Perez seemed to be way back there, fading in the shimmering heat - .

For instance: Perez's face:
Big tears tears of frustration, and exhaustion, were streaming down his cheeks.

NO MORE DUANE

SAY NO TO DARK DINER THE REEF

NO

BOOO

and I'm going to write it down

The front porch is unfinished; as I step down the front four steps they rock back and forth a bit and my sense of balance is called into question. I'm going across the street to Miss Patsy's house to wash the towels so there are clean ones. Her house is absolutely nutty, painted orange and blue with banana trees all over, cages of nothing and cages of animals and a big orange Santa Claus next to a crouching ceramic angel. Earlier I heard a rumor of a $1600 operation she had on her bullfrog that lives in one of mentioned cages. Her three dogs bark as I walk through the back door, into a room smelling of the Belles basement on Schifsky Road, these dogs do not want me there. Miss Patsy wanders into the room and asks in her thick Southern accent, "That baby been born yet?"

I go back across the street, I can hear the beeping of the bridge on the river (beeping) it goes up and lets a tugboat through. A teenager bikes by on the levy. I sit on the couch and wait, we're all waiting for that baby, every time Caity has a contraction and moans my stomach cramps up. The feral cat named Biscuits claws at the window; curious as to the labor I'm sure, curious as any of us as to when that baby gonna be born.

Earlier the neighbor Summer came buy, dressed up all "Honkytonk for a Honkytonk party, oh no I don't usually dress this skanky," as she put it and pointed out to me how the sun was shining through the clouds onto that unfinished house in a very God-like way, and it's true, the sun is shining right on that house and this whole street in fact. Summer's boyfriend Christian comes out, with his tank top and tight jeans and his hammer, his masculinity is surely on display at all times and he winks at me and says, "How you doin' baby," and I nod and smile cuz that's the polite thing to do. He goes to the house next door to Miss Patsy's to work on clearing out flood-damaged wood. I hear he pushes tires around the neighborhood early in the morning for his workout.

I drink some coffee and go out on the porch with Missled, this tiny powerhouse of a woman, cabaret dancer and tattooed clown eyebrows wild and free, MAMA NOSE across her knuckles, and I ask her about how she deals with all the violence, or about her son Ottomadic Pilot, or about her drag show, or her cockroach infested car, and I listen to her stories. Her husband Eddie comes by with his twinkling eyes and warm smile and we joke, we smoke and talk. Missled has the loudest laugh in the Lower 9th.

This is a good block to have a baby on, it's a good block for lots of things that I want to remember and write down

So here I am, in the Twin Cities, for the first time in a fucking year, as much as I did not at all expect to happen, I am having a wonderful amazing happy-ing time.

Last night I was in St. Paul, laughing around a table reviewing the events of our lives since we were fourteen or fifteen. Talking smack about everyones life direction everyones incestuous nature with each other everyones fun and glee and mayhem.

I drank a bottle of wine only to come home to my step-dad milling about with nice liquor and nothing to do. Four rounds of Tequila shots and matching amount of beers later, I have convinced him to come outside and smoke a cigarette with me, which he has been explicitly banned from doing for at least the last fifteen years. Seventeen-year-old brother comes home at some point, I then drag him outside, give him a sloppy mentoring speech of which I do not remember a thing,
tumble off to bed, wake up to Thanksgiving.

This is the first Thanksgiving I have had at home in years, and it is nice. Mom bursts into tears because for once her family is all together. My sister and I color the turkey in the special Thanksgiving Day Newspaper, we hang it on the fridge. My relatives stay well into the night drinking and gambling. I sneak off to see New Moon, when I return Brother A calls Bella a Ho and talks about Brother B's weed quality in front of my grandparents. I sneak off to the basement to watch children's movies and drink nice beer and avoid the loud ramblings about how I should join in the horse race game.

-

I guess the thing is I thought I would be sad today, I thought I would drown myself in the sort of nostalgia I usually like to obsess over, tinklings of Ben Folds in the background as was so inspired by yesterday's 6pm-and-drunk-sing-a-long.

The thing is, my parents are trying to move to Blaine (VOMIT), they are trying to sell the house and they want to get rid of all my stuff they have in storage and so they are making me look through my childhood things and pick what is to be saved.

I have barely gotten started, but I did open the box of scrapbooks albums and other such things, from a collection of I-Zone Sticky Film circa 8th grade, to my Senior Experience portfolio. It was all there.

What I was most in love with was my very first scrawl-all-over-it book, a black spellbound thing from my final year at Mounds View High School. It is amazing what can come out of the brain of a seventeen-year-old on drugs. The creativity was impressive and the work I didn't remember, I wonder what happened to this part of myself and where i get it back. Lyrical little stories and a drawing of a lover as a child with a bouquet. Musings and questions, photos of paintings, and (my favorite part:), multiple notes summoning me immediately to the office to discuss my truancy issue.

What was perfect about my life when I was seventeen was that I was stark-raving-mad and I had all the time and space in the world to explore it, as I saw things. My future held a forest and an onslaught of love, and painting on the backroom walls were all I could do to keep at least some of me from drifting off to NeverNeverLand.





What happened to this part of myself and where do I get it back.

Happy ThanksGiving!#!#

Made it through security without a single beep or pat-down or wanding or search. Read a Judy Blume book through the flight and remembered how dumb virginity is. Also dumb, man in front of me, put his seat all the way back onto my goddamn confidence boots.

The plane hit the ground, the roar took over the cabin, still I could hear the shady father next to me swat at his toddler and tell him to get his Fucking feet off the Fucking seat...

I leaned back and smiled
and thought

I CANT BELIEVE I AM HOME...

Section Twelve

It was the night at the shelter that made me think about how little I think about what I am saying, or at least understand that maybe I dont even listen to myself as much as either people are listening to me. Stop and Think. It was the family dinner night that made me think about what kind of impact I am having on everyone, how much I effect all these kids I am working with. Think a Lot. It was the VD scare that made me so obsessed with boosting my immune system and becoming a crazy health nut that doesn't even drink coffee anymore, who woulda thunk. Manifest it.
You see, this I know. The Process is the Thing.
I also know, as I was telling Tovah, that someday I am going to look back on these days and think ONCE UPON A TIME I WAS GROSS AND HUNG OVER AND TWENTY
AND THEN I CHANGED MY LIFE.

I remember Tov and I, skipping fifth and sixth period,cruising around ArdenHills in that horrible green car with cloud that always hung in the front seat. Singing Jesus Walks real loud.
Last night we went to visit Champ Shack and the same sort of chorus in the same sort of drive, I was waving my hands in front of me and I got so excited.
The future is wide.
Go big.

The Graduate

So I watched the Graduate lastnight for the first time. hadn't seen it, thought of getting work post graduation and I saw the film at the library and pulled it off the shelf. I love the library so much. I check out tons of comics from there now. They have a great collection, tons of stuff from fantagraphics. Today the alarm wasn't heard, I went to school and forgot my locker combo and I needed shit out of it so i didn't go to class. Kind of dumb cause I always go to class, and I just didn't for some reason. I couldn't really. I find myself looking forward to dreams a lot to (see toasters entry below). even the bad ones are sometimes better than waking life. It's easy to get in routines and become come totally blank to amazing things that lay on the outside. Drinking more tea and eating less kind of pulled me out of my mundane for a while. When I was really sick this past week I kind of felt the healthist and most intrested in life cause I was taking good care of my body. Why is this so hard to do? why is it so hard to encourage other people to do this? why does it feel dumb a lot of the time?

pattern

I am in a pattern I think a pattern of Olympia life that I am in

it goes like this,

wake up early, go back to bed to fall back into whatever dreaming i was having

enjoy the dream

really wake up, scramble myself into blue jeans and a black top and look for socks,

look for fruit and or vegetables, find gluten instead

hop on bike, ride fast downtown

work at the office, return phone calls and repeat office tasks, 

tell volunteers they are doing a good job

go to the library, read love stories

back to work, til the beer whistle blows,

bike home.  sometimes go to various meetings, sometimes not,

read a bit, eat a bit, watch a bit,

Go to sleep.

This continues throughout my week, what changes is that I sometimes find fruit in the morning

towards the end of the week I am thinking of the two days off, in which i do various things;

like I think about going out, I go out, I go to a show, drink 4 beers, or I drink more, have a hangover with megover, think about doing art projects and sewing my jeans but don't

Go to sleep, wake up and go back to sleep to keep dreaming

The pattern is changing now because now it is raining, and in the mornings I am very wet

The pattern is leading me to believe that I am unsatisfied and unmotivated by the things I am doing and what is happening around me, so,

I am going to break the pattern that I am in

on a Morning that I am wet

"all i ever had was pop music."

I was listening to Radio KYA The Sweetest Music Ever Made,the power had just flickered and oh boy was I pissed, were they fucking turning us off AGAIN. When the radio returned "Where Have All The Flowers Gone" was playing, the version with female voices not the Kingston Trio. It made me think of that music made for each other in 11th grade, the theme was Pretty.

Somehow got lost in appreciating the Pretty in the music, the kind where it surrounds you like you're listening to it on drugs such a 16-year-old thrill you know.
Off in my head thinking about love and what its like when you love someone and they're not in your life anymore- be it time or heartbreak or what have you. And I was thinking about how these things can be Pretty things and Love things even if they are Sad things.

I guess its like on one hand I'm just thinking about love and manifesting it,
as in opposition to hate and power and their cause-effect-manifestation;
I'm reading "The Culture of Make Believe" - its rambling in both overarching and microscopic senses of these things,
so many links and talking points and metaphors and examples-
I just wish to do lines and babble about it ("rap sessions", as I envision)-
more of a scruffy twenty-something thrill than a teenager's.

This other book I am reading "Redefining Our Relationships," the author is so flowery and bothersome- Friends Lovers Partners all the same Interchanging and Each EveryDay Act can be an act of Love of Sexual Intimacy - shared not with just people but with your Cup of Coffee or the Flower you Admire - and each act of Love act of Sex an Expression of Personal Activism...

For reals this lady has got bumblebees and daffodils coming out of her ears tattoos and PolyLit collection.

But I guess what she made me think about was that so many relationships and nonrelationships and loves of all kinds ARE so much more important and valid than perhaps we would like to give credit to-
even if they don't go anywhere or don't last long or aren't in our picture perfect definition of how things Should be or how they Usually are.

I need redefining.
Of course I'm going to feel constantly upset when I place value and rating and prioritization...into things and people and relations where really no such thing can be measured.

#

In the end, I'm just a late bloomer. Because it took me until now to figure out all I really want to be in love with is Morrissey circa 1980 (when he was the same age as me)
and now hes old and falling over and the same age as my parents and this is the sort of crush you're supposed to have when you're sixteen you know when you do drugs and worship music like I was saying.
I guess I am going to the UK next summer

i love you too much baby

Sitting in Welcome Room, listening to Elvis Presley, crying about going to New Orleans.

It doesn't make any sense to me either.

Campus

So it's kind of hard to get motivated when there is fast internet on campus. And when there are things that I want to tell all of you about. For some reason, Toast and Megoo, our worlds have become displaced. Maybe this is because life has moved us to new places and times and the only way we can stay within supports reach is through bogshpere. Anyways there was a sonskull show at the northern lastnight and they kicked ass as always with a two song set. I payed 8 dollars to get in there and the mood was uptight and rigid. I don't know why that space makes a lot of people not have as much fun as they could have seeing the same show somewheres else. maybe it's the fact that it cost eight dollars. I think they give a lot of that money to the bands though which is super cool; but it's always a major bummer to pay more than a few bucks to see a show. So many people in Olympia do a killer job to make shows accessible and cheap (or free for people) and there is so much amazing shit going on that when I have to pay 8 bucks for it I throw a little fit in my mind. I guess I'm just musically spoiled, being surround by such a great community. It was the first time I paid to get in the space and i can safely say that it is just as much fun to stand outside and here the music for free. no offense to the people who make the northern happen.

Wunder Boi's First Job

I will occasionally be updating comics on the blog to hype up the comic zine Logan and i are soon releasing. Stayed tuned! This particular one is on the back of the new fortnight.

"lets go to bed"

It is conference week, meaning half-days of school. Meaning three full hours of Welcome Room freetime frolicyhour, the kids play make believe games that go so over my head I stare out the window at the orangeyellow leaves and grayraining sky, put on Scary Halloween Sound Effect CD, play game after game of solitaire cheating so much I don't know how to stop. We lit up a jack-o-lantern today looking out at Legion Way, I feel so Halloween like, perfectly in the treelined streets of small east coast towns in Halloween Disney movies, Hocus Pocus, Double Double Toil in Trouble, the likes.

Today we watched The Borrowers, all those lil eensy redheaded people who Do Not Steal They Borrow, perhaps I am one of them just OverGrown. Arrietty the teenage daughter, can't find her place in the world, seems so angsty. The movie ends as she meets a scruffy Outtie (i.e. the Crust Punk Borrowers) Spud Spiller, they cruise off together down the sewerline on a RollerSkate lit by RocketLaunchFlame. If only life began oh-so-simply, ragtag lovers and chaotic transportation!!!

In my attic its fall and its cold. Our water has been turned off and I am only here long enough to pout and pack my bags and spend another night on the lam. Tomorrow at work my boss will play The Cure and I will post up fake cobwebs and perhaps dream the dreams of lacewearing redlipsticked diversion from synthpop. Stare out windows, black then red then black ace one two three.

Last night I woke up in the unsheeted bed writhing with confusion, "WHY HASNT MY LIFE CHANGED YET?"
There was no answer. And just what exactly is my question?

role modeling

it's funny because for the past couple lazy sunday afternoons I've gotten a little sad, or lonely, as the season changes to a chiller fall quickly I am nostalgic for romance and cuddling and such, as the fall season is my favorite and most comfortable to fall into something,

and I think of the series of heartbreaks, some smallish and some largish, that this last year has entailed, and I know I've learned a lot and grown a lot and this and that, but I can't help but wonder what the year 23 will have in store, because I really hope that it looks and feels dramatically different from the year 22. I want something that Olympia doesn't currently have,

but then on Sunday evenings the girls come home, and they come in with big arms and goofy smiles, really happy to see me and to tell me what food they just ate and what game they played with their dad, and we get them a special snack and we put on Street Lights and then You Can't Always Get What You Want and we dance around, laughing,

what is quickly becoming a Sunday evening tradition is important, because as Linz has told me, for kids going through a divorce, transitions are very important, and making the transition from one kind of home into another feel special is a very good thing to do. And isn't this just good to think of in regular life? Making our transitions traditions and making them feel good, in whatever way we can for each other. I am realizing that I am like one of the grownups that was around me when I was a kid, that I loved and looked up to so much and that holds such a specific memory and place in my mind, and this realization of myself being that person for two fabulous little kiddos, this tranistion, in the fall, in a warm little purple house up on the eastside of Olympia, is something that Olympia has never had for me, and if I stop thinking about all the polyheartbreaks this year, I realize I am actually quite happy.

"hope this brings you lots of joy"

It wass my supervisors Birthday yesterday. Here in the Welcome Room we love festivity. We had Cake Ice Cream Balloons and Decorative Table Cloths,
The children were bouncing off the walls Sarah was lining up her cards along the centerpieces
and I started you tubing birthday songs to play.
Typing in the words to a song my mother sings all time under her breath, much like Jeremiah Was a Bull frog,
I stumbled upon what is apparently something all children growing up in the Twin Cities 60s are familiar with...



among others.



Perhaps it was the MJ, the reminder of my parents, both my dads who had birthdays this week and which one did I talk to, perhaps it was allthe sugar or the other things that I am sick of T-X-T-ing about,
but soon in my child-sized chair I had burst into tears
I had to put on my heart-shaped sunglasses wander away quickly
my boss let me leave early she said
"I think Meg has had Too Many Treats."

stress case

To much to do. 20 credits and art spaces and an on campus art show and reading a 100 pages tonight and bro-ho burlesque show and designing a saw blade tattoo and trying to be a good partner and friend. And not lousing my temper and being gun-ho kick ass about everything. And sleeping enough and exercise and eating right. It's a lot to worry about. And that's not even including everyone else's problems. 

but really I'm pretty happy.

OKAY, MY GOD,
NOW JUST WHEN DID I GET SO LOVESICK?!

Here is what I want to do.

I want to move to London.

I want to slum around carrying a suitcase too big and too full that is brimming with animal print that falls out into the punkgutters I sleep in, I will bleach my hair follow around bands chew gum spend all my time with my bestfriendsidekick. I will live on a trustfund,i will try to get leadsingers to adopt me, I will throw tantrums late at night and I will be referred to as The Adolescent. I will actually be called by a name that is meant for a boy and I will dress as though I think it is 1981. I will smoke too much, and I will only eat pizza.

I will not have gooey feelings about sappy things I don't need to think about.

school days.

The first day of school was accompanied by cold weather and mental trauma. My mind was a drift all day; and the usual excitement of starting something new was nowhere to be found. In class I noted down phrases that the teachers said that made me giggle. I had  weird case of the giggles all day. One thing the teacher said in reference to there being no computers and iphones when she was in school was this: "We just sat there; TOTALLY unWIRED".  I thought this was hilarious. And then in statistics a teacher said tictac in a very strange voice and I couldn't stop laughing. So I guess I did end up humoring myself out of an otherwise bleak start. Oh, and sarah stacy and I kept getting tangled up in each others backpacks and bookbags in the book store and it was complicated and funny. It's hard being the only chainsaw on campus this year, I look around and there are just to many trees.  

"a means of getting our needs met"

Yesterday: Community to Community Day of Caring. I walk to work tottering over the 4th hill given beautiful view of the Downtown the Eastside the Water and the Mountain. I love Fridays in the Corps. I feel like we are the Real World cast (though there are 25 of us not 7). Doing projects together wearing matching shirts and prowling around the host city. Lovin' life.

At the Voyeur night before, I discovered soon after the h2h between Scoot and myself that just enough of The Special had gone to my head,
I stared straight ahead let the noise and colors take over all around me
I was in that perfect place, that I read of so much in Osho,
Completely in the present.
No past or future in my head at all.
No thoughts, no words, just the lightest twirl of the big red top we keep on the Welcome Room counter.
Staring straight ahead. Let the murmur of the bar wash over me.

Friday in the Corps. I am Team Leader of the Gardening and Cleaning Service Project. Quickly digressed to Sitting on the Stoop Smoking and Drinking Soda Project. Lunch break. Travel Time. Crisis Management training in Burfoot Park. Blah.
Would rather think about: My Weekend. My Failed Attempts at a bunch of things. My need for a nap. My Knee That Hurts.

And beyond My and Me there are other people too and of this I try to keep in mind.

Now that fall is here.

Sing me a Song

Getting lost in other peoples love stories. Poems I hardly connect with or even find that interesting. Could write good love songs but there is never anything worth all the words.

Training in the park. We stand in a circle. Step in if you identify. Things that Impacted Your Life. Questions we phrased anonymously. Pulled out of a hat. Step in to the circle if you identify and Tell your story if you wish.

My question is last and everyone steps in but no one tells a story because where could you even begin and when could you even isolate one incident from another.

Have you ever had your heart broken?

Maybe the thing is that no one is quite sure.

meeting notes

--department asked to review cases if people been on G-AU for 12 months

1. still eligible?
2. current model
3. look at G-AX?
4. skepticism, cutey old man no wedding ring oooo

Ten Additional SSI Facilitators

everyone in the room does have one, a wedding ring, and i don't want one this is an incredibly boring meeting and the lady next to me keeps looking at my crewchainsaw and frowning

$18 million reduction how are these savings being me, save 4 million dollars

I am often dreaming of things I'd (recognize) really like to experience in real life and I'm not sure if they are considered to be lucid or not.


I remember a conversation I had with meg in which we sort of recognized us growing up, like actually, and I know (have known) that I can no longer do the routine of drink, show, drink, party, repeat because my eyes close heavier each time and stomach isn't in it, not even close to in it.

And look at right now! I am sitting in a very grown-up meeting with grownups about policy and budget cuts and I'm so bored by their ties and blouses and shiny gold wedding bands that I'm taking notes on my desires for some kind of intimacy, the appropriate kind --

this intimacy is

1. not found at parties, and;
2. not found at meetings, so then;
3. where is it found?
   

What does one do when one has gone out in her world to find out new ways of loving and succeeds, in part, at having a relationship that is not heteronormativeish, but fails at being with the right person? How much time do we spend on reflecting on the fails/wins before we figure out how to weigh these lessons learned and move on from a grayish area? These are two unique problems -- the acceptance of growing older and my relationships to people changing based on that AND the notgivingup on doing thinking and acting on relationships in a different way.

Well I bailed on the grownup meeting so I guess some things are the same

and when i touch you i feel happy inside

"Bring a buddy," said Aunt Jenny and the little girls obliged, holding hands all through Disney World, holding hands like two little lines like in Madeline the Little Orphan in Paris books.

Like the witch sisters, like their witch aunts, like the elder's witch daughters, the clasp of the hands, the cuts on the hands and the blood in between. Hands, together. Witches and sisters. Together together don't break the circle.

The way we had really just met, the way it had been less than 24 hours but we wandered around the gray rain morning my hand in yours questions to get to know each other though in some ways it seemed almost pointless.

I am dragging you with me. I will clutch you where its easiest. COME. ALONG.

He's feeling possessive. No, its a formality thing. I don't even now. Couple-ship proven. Everybody can tell.

Creeping along the graveyard. Strolling past the river.
Together, want to hold you.

Palms and nails and the crease of a curving pointer finger.

Holding my hand, we look straight ahead, giggling our nerves. You pull a stem of lilacs off a passing bush, you give it to me and smile you say Mine is Yours and right at that moment i know what you mean

Palms and nails and thumbs and me.

fuck the haters

I must say,

in a few words,

that I am over,

the scene here.

I am sick and tired, my lovely bloggers,

Of polydrama that should have ended months and months ago,
of POLICE holding tazer guns to a handsup seated guy on the street,
Of said seated guy attacking women and myself and magoo,
of friendly faces that I never will connect really with,
(because of above dramas)
Of drinking a big beer to feel better in the moment,
of shitty bands,
Of hot dogs,
of my fake veganism,
Of smoking pall Malls,
of having crushes that make me feel insecure,
(since when did having a crush make you feel shitty anyway)
Of dead celebrities,
of eamonn making magoo lose her workpants,
Of working in general,
of PROFESSIONALISM,
Of the four generations (fake) of that said thing,
of myself making a list of ofs.


love, toast

rip roxanne sadie rudawski, i love you.

i am having that special kind of sadness that won't lift up from your eyelids, the kind of sadness that just creeps in and stays on your face and in your motions and your hands, the way I write things down

this sadness is the kind that compels your father to write an email to his daughters and his ex wife, telling all three of you the same thing -- that he's sorry, that he knows what she was to all of us.  this is rare -- I don't remember the last time my father told the three of us the same thing

this sadness can be full of a horrible shame.  I can't tell everyone about it with the real risk of tears brimming because some people haven't ever loved a dog.  some people haven't ever read where the red fern grows or cried in the first ten minutes of homeward bound or loved the movie babe so much because it shows everyone how wonderful border collies really are  

I know it's a good thing she's gone, that she's somewhere at peace, because as meg pointed out, all dogs go to heaven, they even made an animated movie about it, and that's a good thing.  it really is because in thinking about death and experiencing loss I think all I know is to revert back to childhood thoughts, colors and feelings because it's how to feel better.  

the thing about it is that roxie was my childhood, and to revert back to it means to revert back to a time that she was, all around me, in everything I experienced and remember, so what the hell do I do to feel better?

moments to remember

"disintegrate."

Today I realized fall was here.

I was walking down Washington, there were two people talking outside Ottos still abandoned. It was gray and misty, I was wearing sneakers and had my hood up, I wanted a fancy espresso drink and to reminisce to the point of tears. Think about falls of the past, they're portholes to me you know.

High school.
Witches.
Smoke so much and look at the field that looks far too green against the mist
on a cliff next to WillyHaine's car.
Right before your eyes, everything sets afire.

Fall as a freshman. Everything so I dont even know. You lose the excitement in the harm that you cause yourself. And the next, so full of NewExcitingThings. and yet, You don't even pay attention because you don't even get it.

And last fall, so horrible.
So lost in dark and pasts of bad, and all I even remember are Not Sleeping, Not Breathing,
dark nights at the Reef and the kind of hysterics that only were there in the dark solid space, shrouded in mystery no one could face, even I had to hide from.

Remember, eleventh grade. Its in the fall. I'm in Blakes bedroom hes going on about something he says Thats What You Do You Remember. What was he talking about "what you do", drinking, growing up, I don't know. But its all there. All I do. Remember. That fall, work at Quik Stop, everything sounds like Ashlee Simpson and smells like my carpool.

What I remember about last fall, I finally see, there was this thing. And what I remember is maybe something I can finally admit ,that maybe that thing it saved me.

Its the last thing I'd ever admit it.
Not ever not never
(even in the throes of it all).

Stringing along, ay? Like what you're doing to me Meg?

No. I cant admit. That it saved me and changed me I can tell in myself now that there is a difference and secretly most privately I can tell why. But its the last thing I've ever admitted, the last thing I've ever wanted to acknowledge. I really would like to pretend it doesn't matter it never did and especially that it never will.

But today in the fall I remembered and I saw it for real.

This fall.
1:30 AM, just walked up the hill, fateful sort of conversation about what happened this summer, what I think I learned what I think about all this college graduation growing up mumbo jumbo. As we were trekking along with Indian chai a cupcake on 4th and its so so late and I am sitting on the steps waiting-

Its not time

And it made so much sense you know. Remember that week I came back to Olympia and I cried and cried and cried.
Damage done.
You can never go back.
You can never go back even to Before.

And it kills me, it does, but at least I finally understand. I mean something at least.

I walked over the bridge and thats where I should finish this story but actually guess what I dont even know where it goes.

la lune pour l'amusement

i am sorry i haven't written in so long.  i forgot why it was helpful.

what i have been reading has INSPIRED me to login again and keep on bloggin'

I don't have a lot to say in the moment, I am at the Power Office and it's very Familiar.  I am looking up laws and writing things down and calling people back; there is no urgency to any of it and I am fine with that.  I think I was stuck in something sticky this summer.  I am getting unstuck more and more each day, which also is happening at its own lazy pace.

I was reading something my friend wrote about how there is a distinction between a willingness to fight for a desired society and the readiness to live in that society.  This is something I am ready to think about in a real way.  It is high time to start to think about how things are not working for us and how we want to do them differently.  Many people are feeling this way and if we don't acknowledge our collective/individual inadequacies then we can't figure out what to do differently.

right?

more posts sooner

It was a special day.

We got out of the theater early, I drank coffee even though I am trying to quit, my mind was moving so fast I didn't know what to do. I went to Last Word, I didn't have money but wanted everything, tearing things off the shelves right and left, thinking I probably only wanted the Guerilla Garding Manualfesto not because I want to read it but just because I really want to do it everwhere. I kept picking things up and putting them down and wishing I had seven hours to suck out their souls. I stopped and read the introduction of Ecofeminism and the Sacred, there was all this terminology in French and it was annoying me terribly, hippies and radicals would complain of this lack of accessibility and who did this author really see as her fanbase. And I realized it was raining and I really wanted to leave my bike somewhere and punish it and I was thinking about this and trying to stuff economics books from the seventies in my arms and then I started towards the front and


(Wait stop I need to tell this story to the song that was playing so play this video either along with my story or listen to the tune til you get it because really it was just like this, even a little like the coloring of the video like really sing it along because you wont get it otherwise.)


:

it was a rainy day in Oly I was prowling LastWord bookstore
and I saw him a kid in a Blitz shirt
looking at VHS tapes near the dooor
Id forgotten my MoonForFun book
trying to makes lists of what to collect
he stepped on my foot i giggled at the sky
and talk of Oral Punk History was next
and then one thing led to another
and well after all this he was gone
but this story i know is not over
oh no this story it will go oo-ooo-on

o-lympia cruuu-uuush bo00-00ok
o-lympia map pro-jeeeect
o-lympia hipster trash kid
not lost in my awkard texxxt

And now Im floating through my packed up house
we're getting ready to mooo-ooove ouuuuuuut
And soon I will be again in the best of plaaa-cess
the O-lympia dream Stump houu-oouuu-se




traaa la la la la la la laaa
traa lala la la laa laaaaa
traaa lalalalala la la
tra lalala lala laaaa........................................................................................................................................................................
:
(end music tune or whatever else)

okay though really i gotta quit gootatatata quit YHGOTTTA I GOTTA


I Love You.

"you're always a day away"

# # #


lesson one:
its time to get into things we've known and also things we've not;

lesson two:
its time to make it count like jack said to rose and never let go like rose said to jack

lesson three:
there will always be a place that is home in your heart.
even if, as i discovered earlier this summer, you can never again go home.

# # #

the house we could have had:

The idea of having this porch is still haunting.

the term 'pizza dog' is blown up way to much.

backyard of our dream house.

front view.

don't forget to check out www.slamwhich.blogspot.com

there is some new shit being posted. 

f

I really liked that we had to write letters to ourselves today that we will read six months into our term of service, I really liked telling myself what I think now and asking myself what will happen with all sorts of different things later. What I liked mostly was seeing that most of these predictions or questions about the future, I really do have power how those things turn out. Most of those things, I have agency in. And this is a really exciting thought. Yes I mean I always know this, but I am always living so much in the future in my head that I miss this critical component, that there is a clear bridging between now and then, that there are steps to getting there and those steps are the ones I will be taking all along the way. And I loved this thought so much. And I was filled with happy montages set to deepbellygirlsinging, of my cowboyclomping to success, in all the millions of ways I hope to do right and make good and be happy and grow. And like how Sara was all happy and highIThink and was telling about the episode of Dawsons Creek she was watching and how CJ and Jen just broke up and Pacey and Joey just got back together and there is this relationship just beginning and there is this relationship just ending and both ways its just great in some way its just fine.

I am full of stars.

Wunder Update:

The Wunder Boi has a new strain. The finger like tentacle's have blossomed into an actual hand. Last-night I painted on the most difficult surface yet. I painted the new Wunder. The reason the surface was so difficult (I think) was because the bottom coat was interior latex and the top coat was exterior latex.   

I didn't finish the picture because I accompanied some friends to Grandma's House where a sit down show was well underway. The group I was with apparently didn't want to sit down.  As we walked back to Paxton's we saw this kid running towards us with beer in hand. We inquired what he was running from, pointing to a running crowd behind him he proclaimed loudly "their trying to steal my beer." That's when we charged at his precious beer saying "we're gonna steal your beer tooooooo!" There was genuine fear in his eyes. 

After Paxton's I went to Siti lights. Been getting up early and taking it easy. 

summer of fratboydom continues,
i am getting rid of my texting abilities because they keep saying fucked up things to people at bar close without me knowing how.

i would like to go here.

http://chicago.metromix.com/bars-and-clubs/deal/2-pbr-tallboys-6-wrigleyville/283749/content

August Oh Nine

things i am learning. you dont have to do something just because you Can. you dont have an STD just because you get an Ecard that says so. you dont get to go home when you want even if you make a real good argument for it. you dont have to be completely okay all the time. you dont have to do much for internet class. you dont qualify to be hired as a waitress. you dont have to worry so much about the past and the future because in the PresentMoment everything is just fine. you dont do so well when you continuously drink TallBoys.

update

Been having a hard time not being sleepy lately. Today I slept in and then took a nap. It's been great. Have been in the studio working. It's where I should be now. Meg and I drove around for a while yesterday. Sarah Stacy and I drove for a while today. I cooked some eggs just right today.I whish that the chin on the tall bike was tighter so I could ride it all over. maybe when RUSSLE swift gets back he can help me fix it. I'm getting excited to go out on the road to; in two weeks or less. All you road dogs have got my head spinning. The old "crew up" hasn't happened in forever. Let's hope it's not dead.   I'm not really in a blogging mood; but just wanted to show it's still in my heart. God bless all you fellow bloggers and degenerates. 

in my hands these curls, and my scalp under these thumbs. the lines familiar, the place and time i have known before. slowly i belive i could become nothing but this white blanket and softly it seems i will lose track of where in this plot today we have fallen.

i remember that script as i once decreed,
"fall asleep next to one dream of another wonder if he can tell",
those lines,
i can no longer recall which i meant and when or what

this time i wonder if i can make any more of a distinction.

make the decision to decide to be done

listen. can you hear it?

mostly what i hate is the constant reminder that the world will go on.

that just pisses me off to no end.

Wunder World

been slappin'.

I am spending so much of my time in math class, dreaming of bed of curled in fluffy things
of hands kneading into my spine and shoulders shaping me into an arch that would crack away all the non sleep I am getting.

Someone once told me you should get at least six hours of sleep a night. I FORGOT that sometimes people get MORE than this sometimes people actually know what is going ON

I am existing in this classroom without paying attention I haven't done any of the the work or listened to any of the lectures, these space every day 9 - 12:30 and 6-10 pm,
they are like dreams or trips or bad TV I do not know what is going on I am lost confused Out of My Mind

The teacher called me to the board. I had spent the last seventy-five minutes making lists of things I would rather be doing and thinking about the kind of Frye boots I want from E-bay.

I twirled my hair and shook my head and she made a face and I thought WELL THERE GOES MY EVAL.

Here I am. Statistics Class. Where everyone faces forward to the podium,
and my soul dies
and my lab book remains empty
and they skip my name on attendance because I've only come twice before

And I dont pay attention and I cant,
because I would rather think about Emotional TrainWrecks,
wonder if I'll ever be able to date someone in a healthy, tantrum-free way,

Oh and my ride on the route 21 today was so nice,
I saw Chloe and Kevin walking bikes through downtown looking the epitome of punk funky little
I saw Monica and Vince biking from the eastside "we two" with a picnic basket I hope I grow up like that,

The wacky man talking to the wearing sweater mother who pretended not to hear him
while he explained the statue of Athena hidden by the capital building,

Oh I would like to quit and everyone keeps asking if I am in their class because they think I already did.

Contrary to popular belief, one can go home as many times as one wants. I am there now. Well Ellensburg that is. We decided last night that there was no reason to come here, but had an excellent time sitting on roof tops drinking BUR

"you can never go home again"

A Day Off Monday!

I'm Contentedly in a domestic environment crafting large objects to be HUNG 'round towne. Back from a giant 4th o july block party that made me want to be 30 in Seattle. Time to give up being a few notches lower then what I want. If you know what you want, you shouldn't compromise. It's as simple as that. If you don't know what you want; thats when it ain't simple at all. I want a crew. I want some tude. I want some land. I want some supplies for crafting shit. i want some power tools. I want rude boys and girls for clubs of all kinds. 

It's time to quit twiddling our thumbs, do it and laugh about it later. 

wear basketball jerseys when it's hot outside and come over soon.

later,

scooter.  

Sappy Summer:

Why is this Summer all wrong?

Why do I work at this Jewish Camp when I have study money?

Why do I wait for something to happen for me in Olympia?

Why do I subsume to countless instances of repression in my life and mind?

Why am I frustrated?

Why does being interested and Happy take so much energy?

Why can't I pick up and leave for a while?

Why would it still be the same once I got back?

Have I grown up? Is this what it feels like? being responsible to something or someone; only you can't figure out exactly who/what it is...

feeling guilty is dumb. feeling free comes easy on a friday night surrounded by buddies. roll on buddy. 

But today Logan and I walked around and put up stickers in the daylight and it was good. It's fun to do things while it's sunny for all to see and be confused by. 

off to work soon; first a cup of something. equal parts coffee and whiskey. I'm already tired. 

To Alaska.

The dug out is empty.
I am about to leave.

Its so weird.

Cleaning out finding all sorts of things. A dread from that fluffy cat named Rabbit that I despised. A beer bottle under my bed that was nice beer that must be left over from a time when Simon was present.

The dug-out itself, plants that never grew bottle caps and cigarettes, a coconut we couldn't crack open last summer, a grill we never got to light. There's a wine bottle we set in the brick wall the first night we moved in, and now I can't move it because its overgrown with vines.

Paintings from all different places and people, carrots that had been rotting since Meghan's April Juicing phase- I shouldn't have kicked over that mystery bucket last night.

We ran inside to escape the smell, and sat in a circle on the big empty floor,
and how I love those people and this place and these things that have happened.

Its so weird.

Bye Bye.

ROOMS READER zine is done;

there is a giant picture of megoooo on the back cover!

get one on thursday and friday at summer squash or dumpster value. 

Up In Charlie's House!

So It's my last full day in the pen as well as the first, the study is a breeze, besides ten days of driving to TaCo, but at least they are not in a row. The dude sitting next to me constantly makes bad jokes that arn't bad enough to keep my attention. i have been blatently ignoring him throughout the duration of the study, to no avail. It's kind of a shame that I can't call my father, but I guess i'll think about making him a card tomarrow. There is a musical on the big TV here, and I can safely say that the crew would be thouroughly enjoying themselves if present. Sweet Tooth; where's the chain saw? Toaster, where is the blog activitY? Megoo, where is the graduation money? Scoot, where is the much needed movement?
The drug is weaking my immune system...
someone deliver some tea and chicken soup!

sweet tooth:

i got your back

ooohhh darnfuck it didnt work!!!


meg how do you post videos??

Living; Flying: Pumpkin.

to my loved ones. i lu of my total neglect with of the blog, i am making personal atonement to each one of the members in hope that i will be forgiven one day. I have lost my mind and my password for wackncheese there for im using officer scooters space.

I wanted to share my new love and future dead husband with everyone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JGc2CvM0EQ

i hope dis works.

xxx
sweettoof

Once Upon a Junior Mint

I remember running away sitting in Tony Schmidt park talking about The Future.

I remember I wrote in your yearbook about how we would escape, we would sit in the trees and talk about how good our lives had gotten, how I couldn't wait until we laughed about how our lives used to be and how they had become.

Last night when my grandma met the President of Kenya as Sexual Big Bird raunched behind a hip Oly Eastside house and dogs and kids and punks rolled all over,
it was then I remembered The Future.

We didn't find trees but we talked in the backyard Hiding Place about Culminations.

The bridge in that Smiths song is playing at the part when the keg is tapped, when the Reef burns down, when we've all stumbled off to our own nooks of Dude Zone and the Christmas Lights are still plugged in the wooden floors and spray painted walls are covered with Smoking.

Last night Csank and I on the swing set sharing something stolen and broken. Discussing hindsight and how much better everything becomes. The coldness and the bass playing and the scary drunk now irrelevant; when we look back its love hard strong.

Whats important about bridges is that they are but modes of Transition.

get from one place to another.

the star of every night every day

How Angela new found hero put it, "What's amazing is when you can feel your life going somewhere, like your life just figured out how to get good, like, that second."

How it feels at that point when you decided to get off the bus and walk down the hill because its so so very nice out, how you walk over the bridge and there is the mountain in front of you and the railroad tracks below that are strip-like trailing into the Sound, how it feels to only think about how lovely is the scenery of this town how lovely it is that you live there.

How planning and dreaming sometimes are at odds with each other but there are perfect times when they are one and the same.

How I will soon sleep in tall grass under stars and kittens and the Wangsters long-ago descriptions...

"The One In Which She Goes"

OMIGOD LOOK HOW MUCH FUN MY SUMMERS GONNA BE

get money get money

So I"m trying to dial into a study come june 23rd, it's a 16 day take which should be suuupppper coolin' cause it pacts a 3,500 dough and then I can tip the bartender and it's gonna be like "that fuckin' guy" cause I'm just gonna be slappin up that paper on the telephone polls and swinging on the wires and learning how swagger could change lives. And not getting sucked down with the "you've got to do this next cause your older" or some shit suggestion that makes me butcher what I've been working on in my mind for so long. Skut.

bull goose loony.

listen to this song whilst imagining the dug out as a flying machine whirring us across the oly-scape towards summer camp lands of peter pan islands. this time plants will grow and all kittens will flourish for decades. and nutter will never abandon us.

Art's Walk

there has been much talk of uniting with this crew.

meg had a major wipe out

my friend also has a buffalo that he drew on his arm. wild child!

I thought that being scary hungover would suddenly vanish when I was of age to drink. 

! = Gleeful War Cry

(to the tune of Camp Orkila Cheer Song, Dining Hall Style)

HaaaappHappyHappyBirthDaaaay

HaaaaappHappyHappyBiiiiirthdaayyy

HappppHapppyHapppyBirrrrrthdayyyy

To YOU TO YOU TO YOUUUU

OHHHH HEYYYY!!

Toaster, Magoo, and Scoot. IM SORRY!! I really really am! I will never abandon wack n cheese again.

Mad Soul Love

Sweet Tooth

"you are my sunshine"

Maybe its the bass line of a Blink182 song or
a poem that Tries Hard lines and lines of orphans and adjectives;

CapturingLittleNotions of big love and big tears.

maybe it is the time that passes between two years ago right now I went off to Orcas Island, one year ago I freaked out and didn't go back

Maybe its what she said Jason said
about different kinds of friendships
bringing different friendships to different levels
its something bell hooks described to me.


We drank big beers late into the Dug-Out Dark and talked about things as confused
about needs and love and crews and hatespeech. I had a lot of good thoughts but didn't record them, this morning I am sad like a lover who didn't wake up in time to say Good Bye.

I am trying to write a summative eval. What have I learned. What have I done. What has my college education meant to me. What do I know. How is this relevant. Contextual. Contextual.

Two nights ago I learned that I should not try to mosh in cowboy boots. I fell so hard I wanted to pout on my fallen ass forever, I got pulled up by the crowd but the Monday afterward and my fallen ass remains in pain, unwilling to let me bend correctly.

Graduating high school was this mess of excitement, these Big Plans for the Trees and the magic happy a-little-scary wonderland I had found in Evergreen upon SB06. A mess of excitement in the ShoreviewCrew KarkovBottles drivearound chainsmoke Destination Nowhere, we were all kind of a mess but in this cute way like the Tilly in the Wall song everybody loved that summer after 10th grade. Fight and make out and cry when the summer was over.

I feel destination nowhere right now but its in a much bigger picture than an inviting basement and connecting window.

Little Meg wear shorts under your dress because this way you can climb trees and roll in grass and fight dragons and no boy not dressed for a tea party will be able to go any faster. Come home this afternoon for Kool Aid and a story and a nap in the lawn with Sheeta (the collie).

I do not know where I think I am going but at some point I may first have to figure out what I am looking for. We hear me say I'm going to Texas all the time, but I am not sure of what this fantasy actually consists, other than a faded superhip polaroid of myself next to a hiway Welcome to Texas sign, looking ridiculously excited and positioned to be riot grrrl tall. The island and farm appeal to me a lot but I would have to realize I can no longer spend all day in the craft shop blasting the Free Willy song. The Kwahnice has sailed Meg. Just because everyone moves to Portland, doesn't mean I should move to Portland. The bus is annoying for a reason.

I am not leaving Olympia, okay. I cant leave Olympia because I will be living in the fantastic bigcloseted HolidayHouse, I am going to float about in the happy lit-kid antique trinkets while Becca is in Prague and I'm going to be really really happy. I'll look out my window at the taco truck and sit in the yard in a onesie and it will all be fantastical even if its Fall.

Its just that those post HS Big Plans, I feel like I haven't found them here. Theres got to be something else I have got to find first, where do I find this. Where do I go and how do I get there. I'm going to Alaska but I don't think this will get me far, at least in any direction other than a glacier and massive hangover.

I remember the postcards from Uganda and how they made me feel to just hear of these adventures, the way the music was in her skirt and on her skin and she had stopped at some point to color me a picture in oil pastels.

Little Meg you don't need to hit Kelsey just because shes not letting you be boss. Lets talk about this. Little Meg stop throwing things Please. Okay I Understand you want to her smash her face off right now but Really Meg you love her your just Angry right now. These are your Feelings. Feel Them. Don't make anybody Else feel them.

Last Thursday I skipped class to run around on the Eastside, we put flowers in our hair kissed on the steps of a gas station drank gin all night and watched Girl Power Rock Camp Movie. The show was climaxing and I escaped to the porch, among long grass and children's toys, I laid on my back and chain smoked to the stars. I was thinking. The crowd erupted minutes later and came barreling to all my sides, Rosie yanked the 27 out of my hand and the cherry kaboomed into my eye.

Things got blurry but in the end, I made it out unscathed.

(27s = Shoreview Choice. Stopped being Ironic around Thanksgiving I think. I cant stop anyway I do live in Olympia, Washington after all)

What I was thinking about was how I wish I would have gone to Girl Power Rock Camp and how things would have turned out a lot differently if that was true. What I was thinking was that I should try harder to understand what my theories about love are and what my actions seem to say. What I was thinking was how much what I feel like I have learned is about my relationships with people and what I have wanted them to be or what I have needed them to be and then what has actually happened. What I was thinking about was where I want to go in the great wide world and what I will do when I get there.

Maybe its like the cootie catchers we make way too many of at Y-Care, pick a color pick a number count them twice and then I will tell you what your future holds.

Little Meg when you Grow Up things will all make Sense.

NUTTER GET HURT A LOT

Working on the mural. 

Some freaks doing acrobatics. 

Someone hung this art in front of me at a show that sun dagger played. I like how chris the guitar player plays. 

Tiso with his abstract. 

Nutter got nutted. 

The swirling tabloid rumors are dangerous because she is no Paris Hilton, famous for being famous.

notes on a day learning well spent

i transcribed our travels in large purple crayon. later on when i looked it all made sense but it took up less room than i remembered.

Party Pit

So I took some pics at a party with the props and I think it went okay. The thing is I was drunk and partying at the same time I was creating this visual dialogue about parties and it felt kind of weird. like the integrity had been ripped out of me, but was it ever there? Anyways, it was a good laugh for many of the people there as well as myself. I left my camera at the party but luckily my friend found it and stashed it in his room. GREAT! so the pics might be up here later today, stay tuned.  use up more than your made of.  

Great balls of fire. Don't bother me anymore, and don't call me sugar.

Although I came to campus bright and early and brought Strawberries for the potluck,
I have just decided that I'm never going to the class I hate ever again and I'm going to lose four credits for it. Its only a thousand dollars I dont have. After all.

Is this a sign that things are looking up or is this a sign that I'm losing it more than ever.

I will think about that tomorrow. The next day, perhaps.

I am going to the Answer Rock this afternoon and this time I'm bringing my island friend.

P.S. This is my sister.

Just a remider.

The best art I saw during seattle's first thurday (may 09)

Oni found out just how challenging art can be at the Seattle Art's Museum 

I am on the brink of needing to give up greasy foods.

new secret gallery project. a loaf is in the oven.

never could give up my slam grease. 

everybody write an article on something fun, arty, weird, or just whatever you want for this NEWSLETTER THING, please.