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Has anyone else seen the banner ads on lj for tom cruises official site? wth is he doing? You have people to do this for you tom- imdb, fan sites, apple trailers, tabloids. This obvious self advertisement is really weird to me.

Anyways. New years resolutions... I don't know. Get off my ass. Stop eating Chocolate, as stated previously. Stop talking about movies. Leave the country.  That'll do it.

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I sneeze when I eat it. A lot.

Which means I'll either be spending loads of money on the good stuff or abstaining from chocolate completely. yeah, ha, abstain. If i wasn't already in the red, I'd be worried about going broke.

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after listening to about three hours of alternating heavy bass, high pitched harmonica and now what sounds like if humming were a competitive sport coming through my dorm wall, i wonder if it would just be nicer to live in the middle of fucking no where. i don't mind noises as long as they come and go- sirens, voices, music, anything. like a little guest appearance in my day. but this throat music shit has to stop.
* * *
So, I'm going to my first acting class tonight. All I can say is thank god it's not taught by aaron or dad, because I am not theatre-ish enough to deal with that yet. The fact that I'm taking another class again ever is actually quite out of character since this is the person who wonders what everybody thinks about her all the time. Time to let go, I guess. At least once a week. What's nice is that dad is dropping me off and then leaving since I've banned him from ever coaching me or watching me act again. I mean, it's practically his second home, so it is really nice of him.  What his really means though is: I need my license, and how`.
* * *
Only 6 days left in Chicago! All my favorite seniors from LACHSA have picked their colleges, and I can't help thinking they picked better than I did. Packing is  the devil. Where does all this paper come from. Also, I suggest to anyone not to work on clay projects in a dorm, as the clay dust is a bitch to sweep.

My roommate is totally high from cleaning the bathroom. We found out yesterday that nail polish remover gets paint off the tiles, but these rooms have really poor ventilation, and so we ended up having a walk and eating tons of McDonalds. Today she locks herself in the bathroom with cleaner, and the bathroom is sparkling, and she's giggling like a madman and acting nutso.

Also just ran out of liquid eyeliner. I'm saving up for some new shoes since I wore though all of them this year, but I'm sure I can spare 3 bucks for cheap liner.

Can't wait to see the Kara Walker show at the Hammer. I'm glad it's there for so long. I missed the Alison Saars show at the LA Louver. My parents went, they said it was fantastic. But the LA Louver always has good shows, I'll just see what's up when I get there.

* * *
I didn't keep up on my account again. I don't understand, and messing up about four times should have taught me to check up on my checking more often, but  80 dollars in overage fee? when did that happen. My parents will kill me. Seriously though. Kill.

Giant project due tomorrow. Just started it. Guess who's earning her scholarship.

You know, I had never cut my own hair before, because it scared me. But I always felt like just chopping it all off. Like it needed to be gone. So I did it. And it's still not the hair of my dreams, but it's so much better than that dead birds nest I had just because I felt I fit into whatever world I was walking through, like it was what was expected of me. And maybe, even though it's frightening and nobody wants me to do it, I should leave school. Hair grows back, I can always come back. I just feel like taking scissors to my life right now.

* * *
Listening to Spoon's earlier album Telephono as the sun rises over the Chicago skyline. Or rather, the lake. I don't have my East facing blinds open, but through the others I see dawn. Obviously didn't sleep tonight. I do this before my early classes. I know I won't wake up in time. So I don't wake up. Or rather, I don't fall asleep

Patched the holes in my pants with cotton. Now I can walk in them without my thighs bleeding. They actually don't bleed- they turn grey. Weird, right? Friction+ Skin= Grey Spots.

Watched Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. Nearly shit myself laughing. I never liked Val Kilmer before. Ever. In anything. I just need Kilmer to abandon his current reality and become Gay Perry forever and rock my world.

This summer= tanning, losing weight, getting back to what I used to look like. Not this fat, white, alien Tiana. I was just comparing pictures of me in August and me now... it's really.... shocking. I want to go back, really.

* * *
I don't like being here, in English Class. I need to write a scene for a script based on peoples monotonous readings aloud, monotone and brief contributions to the stilted conversation. Between breathy guesses of what the teacher wants to hear there hangs heavy silence, heavy and wet and grey, like Chicago spring mornings, like Daniel Thelewis in that movie. Even I, animate, am grey and lifeless in this room. The only three who are punctuated, who sound intelligent and confidant are the teacher and two other girls, one of whom is not confidant, but she speaks normally, unlike the rest of us zombies.

I am spending my time ignoring the conversation on Novalis until I hear an obvious Greek myth reference and then I chime in, dead and intelligent sounding.

The heart, the senses, the realms of nature, the essence of nature the return to nature, the human mind, the death of the heart the return of the heart, the transcendence of the heart, the breaking of Eros, the exhaustion of the imagination, the promises of Fable, wisdom, the eradication of wisdom, the mother, the father, immature love, pure love, mature love, rides around the run in chariots, giants, fountains, fates, the grim reaper, promises, degradation, disintegration.

I am looking at poetry online.

Sounds
    Like pearls,
Roll off your tongue
    To graze this eager ebon ear

Doubt and fear
    Ungainly things,
With blushings
        Disappear.
I used to read Maya Angeleou’s poetry every free reading session in 6th or seventh grade. I don’t remember which.

There is one I love more than this, but I can not remember.

* * *
* * *
My feet are swollen. I don't know why. I can't fit my heels- any of them. looks like another day of boots or keds, because I don't think my converse fit either. Two fat feet. Two hours till I have to walk to my furthest class with the most amount of stuff I have to carry all week. I wish the museum would let us walk through it, instead of around it when we have heavy portfolios. Like, a special walkway for students with shit on their shoulders. And swollen feet. If this happens when I'm 18 I do not want to see my feet if I ever get knocked up.

my hair has grown out about two inches. yay! soon- a fro. I don't know why I'm celebrating this. Maybe I'm turning over a big fat leaf just chock-full of black pride. Hell, if I could look like Betty Davis or a Black Panther, I'd rock the fro and the pick and the yellow leather booty shorts (that would be Davis.. not the Panthers.)

The kitchen sink smells like cheese. We've taken to microwaving breakfast, lunch and dinner on napkins and cardboard, drinking soup out of coffee mugs, drinking coffee out of ceramic shot glasses. Why is washing the dishes so difficult for me to wrap my mind around. It was my only job at home, I should be used to it.

Dave Eggers= love, btw. How we Are Hungry and You Shall Know Our Velocity make me feel bright and shiny inside. I'm working my way slowly through A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and What is the What, and I just read Theo in The Book of Other people, and My current, active read at the moment is The Best American Non Required Reading, edited by Eggers. I love this man. I love his Non Profits, his proclivity towards political and social issues, his strong gravitational pull that gently dips the matter around him so that he is the center around which wonderful words and images rotate.

* * *
The human condition can be summed up in just one word and this is the word: Embarrassment.

Kurt Vonnegut

* * *
 Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don' t
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

---Dr. Seuss

* * *
Home's the place we head for in our sleep.
Boxcars stumbling north in dreams
don't wait for us. We catch them on the run.
The rails, old lacerations that we love,
shoot parallel across the face and break
just under Turtle Mountains. Riding scars
you can't get lost. Home is the place they cross.

-part of the poem by Louise Erdrich


 


* * *
But they're so much fun to answer.

If I were a month I would be: October
If I were a day of the week I would be: Sunday
If I were a time of day I would be: 3:30 am
If I were a planet I would be:  Mercury
If I were a sea animal I would be:  Mermaid
If I were a direction I would be: West
If I were a piece of furniture I would be: A very soft bed with many pillows and a duvet
If I were a liquid I would be: Water
If I were a stone, I would be: Tiger Eye
If I were a tree, I would be: Orange tree
If I were a bird I would be: mockingbird
If I were a tool, I would be: hammer
If I were a flower/plant, I would be: catails
If I were a kind of weather, I would be: overcast, cool but with sun shining through- LA winter
If I were a musical instrument, I would be: Trombone. or cello. or bass guitar.
If I were an animal, I would be: cat
If I were a color, I would be: yellow ochre
If I were an emotion, I would be: indecision
If I were a vegetable, I would be: carrot
If I were a sound, I would be: breathing.
If I were an element, I would be: air
If I were a song, I would be: This is not what you had planned- the wrens
If I were a food, I would be: That brown bread they don't sell in chicago toasted with butter
If I were a place, I would be:  Under the stairs
If I were a material, I would be: Cotton.
If I were a taste, I would be: Cooking Chocolate
If I were a scent, I would be: Water on cement
If I were a religion, I would be: Pagan
If I were a word, I would be: mahogany
If I were an object, I would be: A warm stone
If I were a body part I would be:  hands
If I were a facial expression I would be: Crinkly Eyes
If I were a subject in school I would be: English
If I were a shape I would be: a drawn circle
If I were a number I would be: 8

* * *
I can not make friends. I look severe. I play devils advocate in class. English class is like a sport to me, I'm this weird intense character in class, but jeez,  I don't bite. I've always been the nice one. I suppose I've inflicted this isolation on myself. I can't help it. My jaws clenches. I shiver. I fucking shiver! My whole body tenses up. What is wrong with me? Who gets stage fright in English class? 
* * *
Reading the first five chapters of Rosseau's Reveries of a Solitary Walker.
Before morning.
It is morning.

I went to see more of the Hopper exhibit today. It was like an assembly line of people, since it just opened this week. Step forward, note painting, nod head, whisper something clever to companion while still looking at the painting, nod again, move forward, step lively people!
I never liked Edward Hopper before. I thought they were too... straightforward. Too much like a 1920's-30's  American advertisement. But looking at them up close, looking at how many he made, how different they are, how much feeling they convey. Light. Light! Light! I want to walk by the buildings, sit on the roof tops, I want to sit quietly next to his people.

I like Edward Hopper now. I understand the popularity of Nighthawks now.

Interestingly enough, I was watching Dead Like Me season one all week, and today, the first epsode I watch, at 11:00 at night, is Nighthawks, and at the end they recreate the painting with Mason, Rube, George and the Busboy. They even took into account the counter facing the other way and made it work. They took into account how sparse the painting was, no details in the other windows, in the street. I liked their imitation more than that one that CSI did.

* * *
Since the poetry communities I belong to don't allow song lyrics to be posted (and I understand once looking at some song lyrics why that is) I give you the poetry by Leonard Cohen. Or, i bring you a poem. This never fails to rearrange my insides when I read or listen to this.

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

* * *
My limbs have been feeling so heavy lately. They just fall.......fall down. My arms don't stay up when I am playing with my hair, or when I prop myself up when trying to fall asleep. 
* * *
TANK!
Tank Girl rocks my tits
* * *
My tits are falling off.

I've got Marla Singer's voice in my head. No shit I'm having trouble writing a children's book.

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