28 December 2001; 12:00 AM
bring on the hibernation. it's been raining and i've been sleeping a lot, gaining weight, giving myself a break, walking under my umbrella, pounding coffee, pounding melatonin, smelling peter's shoulders, sucking my thumb, petting cats, working on the last little bits of my college application, worrying about my weight, flaking out on errands. i'm yawny and sleepy all the time so i just sleep a lot. the days are short and dark and the rain is wonderful and oppressive.
things i've stopped feeling guilty about: liking tropicana brand pulp-free orange juice. buying my little ponys off ebay. leaving the dishes in the sink one more night. forgetting to respond to emails from people who i'm sure are nice.
portland, they tell me, has the worst unemployment in the nation. after my things go in storage and i move out of my apartment (next week?), i don't know what i'll do. i thought i'd move to portland in february, but if you can't even find a coffee shop job, maybe i'll just hang around and be sorta employed here, instead. or, maybe i'll go to thailand with and say hi to amy. maybe i won't unite with the great northwest until the winter is over and job market presumably picks up. doesn't sun make people want to go out more, and spend money?
25 December 2001; 12:00 AM
December 25, 2001 -
December 25, 2001 - 1:33 am
post drinks, post french fries, on this hour-old christmas day, i stared at xep and egg from the backseat of egg's car. we'd been walking and reminiscing in an offhanded way, and i'd seen sonic, who is so often the catalyst for memories of sf, for me. i blurted out, like a star in a sitcom year end finale: i wonder if the rest of my life will be anywhere near as interesting as the last five.
i thought about that comment, as i snuck into peter's apartment, peed, and then tiptoed behind him so i could write this down before he noticed my presence (he is immersed in a drunken session of unreal tournament right now).
i vow, for the new year and all years, that i will do everything i can to keep my life filled with wonder, awareness, change, and growth. it will never be boring, but it may not be "interesting" in the same way the last five years have been. if you know me at all, you know that i'll have no trouble keeping this vow.
my life was just flashing before me, in the car and on the sidewalk. everything, too many things to explain. the first soft kiss with peter in brian's apartment, after childish tickling and wrestling all night. the most innocent and pure sexual tension i'd ever had. we still have it.
everything, doing e with friends in my first apartment, doing e with chaya at a vibrant party. doing e. hanging out in eric's apartment after i first met he and xep. the nights i spent on their futon. losing fifty pounds, finding yoga, finding veganism. spending christmas with jeff gage at cp, and making spaghetti in the only pot we could find: a tea kettle with a tiny lid. we slid the noodles one by one into the small opening. everything. tripping that first time at sonic's, and this time last year, learning about oof. the steps up to jeff's apartment. the long warm golden brown wood colored nights at cp, under the rafters, working and feeling good about it. everything.
i can't explain my feelings tonight, it's a nostalgia and appreciation but also a sadness. and hope that i won't forget who i learned to be in sf, and that i won't forget to keep learning to be.
i've been shying away from my own intensity and impulsiveness lately, apologizing a lot, and generally trying not to rock my boat. i'm going to stop that now. what the hell else is there to do?
24 December 2001; 12:00 AM
December 24, 2001 -
December 24, 2001 - 11:50pm
i am sitting on the stairs that lead up to peter's apartment. i'm sitting here because wireless internet rocks, but mostly because i am trying to intercept the pizza delivery guy before he rings the doorbell and wakes up peter's roomates. though i'm skeptical that pizza will actually come, because i ordered using food.com and got no confirmation email.
peter is great, because he brought me bunny slippers for sitting down here, and he also came down and changed the lightbulb for me, wordlessly. so i could see to type. some people would try to convince me that sitting on the steps in the cold with the laptop is a bad idea, but not peter. he just does what he can to make my stay on the steps comfy. that's why he is good.
i can see into the bus going by outside. people are wearing hats and scarves in the flourescent lights. a man in a NY yankees cap reached up to pull the string as the bus pulled out of the stop. i wonder if they can see me too. hello bus people. look at my apple laptop. isn't it rad?
when i was getting ready for burning man, i was making a pair of fairy wings using thick electrical wire as the frame. i was superglueing fabric to the wire, before sewing it, for extra security. i sat happily in peter's living room, on the floor, playing with glue. peter divided his time, partially peering down at me from the computer chair, and partially looking at his monitor. at one point i thought it would be a good idea to use my fingers to smear the super glue onto the wire and fabric. peter watched me make this move, and instead of going NO DON'T DO THAT! he just said ohh and got up, quietly and without a fuss, and fetched the nail polish remover. he put it down next to me and then went back to what he was doing. he is great.
still no pizza. i guess i should call them.
23 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-23 - 2:56 a.m.
2001-12-23 - 2:56 a.m.
you know, my time in sf has been really transient. when i think back on it, i think about how much movement and change there was. how many loves i had and lost. how many homes i had and lost. how many jobs i had and quit. moving, moving. from person to person, bed to bed, address to address. it's gone on so long that i have no idea what to blame, myself, san francisco, the cultural climate, the people around me, my age, my generation, the books i read growing up, my decisions about who to surround myself with. it could be anything.
unrelated: i learned recently that "dolores" means "sorrows"
22 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-22 - 3:29 a.m.
2001-12-22 - 3:29 a.m.
in bed, a moment ago, i was wrapped around peter in a common pose: my knees over his knees, on my back, while he was on his side. his head in my armpit. me, vaguely desiring that he move my nipple into his mouth.
i was complaining of a bad stomach though. i had that carsick feeling where no air you breathe seems fresh enough. he put his hand on my belly, and a moment later i said "are you doing reiki on me?" but i knew he was, because warmth and comfort and relief was coming out of his hand and moving the gassy badness from my tummy. my stomach said gurgle gurgle.
he fell asleep a little while later, his back to me, and i petted his shoulderblades. i decided i would get up and have some mint tea. i told my tea plans to the curly hairs on the back of his head. he half rolled over then: give me one more kiss before you go and i kissed the side of his mouth three times before climbing over him and going to the kitchen.
in the kitchen my stomach churned and wobbled around inside me. it felt like my stomach was a water balloon and some little kid was squeezing it, just to see the water move from one side to another. i said, aloud, while staring at the white counter: awww man! because i was pretty sure i was going to puke and i really wasn't feeling up for it. i decided to move forward as if puking wasn't an option, and made mint tea and smelled the minty steam from it.
my stomach seems to want to behave now. i haven't tried to put any tea into it yet.
20 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-18 - 6:20am
2001-12-18 - 6:20am
i can't think. i've been at caitlyn's for a long time, getting beautiful blue and burgundy and lavender hair braided into my reddish natural dreads. i am so happy with the result, i feel watery and fluid, like caitlyn braided her piscean ways right into my hair.
we watched dvds and movies while we braided. i don't remember all of what we watched, but here's some. big top peewee. a science film made in the sixties about the five senses. a jim marmusch movie called stranger than paradise. four episodes of south park. the first season of "the sopranos." a movie about a japanese man travelling through iceland.
i didn't get home until 5am.
the internet is lonely at this hour. i wish i had my webcam, so i could show bobby my hair, since i know if i told him i'd gotten extensions today, he would want pictures. he's inquisitive and sincere, i really like him.
i'm going to go climb in bed with peter in a sec. it'll be fun that he'll get to wake up next to me with this crazy hair, hair that i didn't have last time he saw me.
the last few days have been busy and fun. motorcycle rides and noodles and hair and circus show and lord of the rings and more motorcycle and japantown and amelie and wandering with xep and clutching eric on the bmw, in the freezing cold, my fingers tucked into the seam of his jacket.
i have a huge list of things i have to get done in the next few days, including, move out of my apartment. i feel unperturbed.
sleep now.
...
later:
the pictures of the new hair are up.
16 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-16 - 12:30 a.m.
2001-12-16 - 12:30 a.m.
at 12:30am, in the back room of lady baltimore's cake company, a man drags the bristles of a broom across the black and white checkered linoleum floor. i know this, because i'm sitting two floors up and across the street from the cake store, peering down into the brightly lit baking area from my perch in peter's computer chair. the sweeper is thorough; he's going over the same areas more than once. he bends over to pick things up when the broom fails.
earlier today on the 6 parnassus, near 6th street downtown, i watched a disabled old woman become sick and vomit all over the floor of the bus. i couldn't do anything. she got off two stops later. so did everyone else. she groaned and looked so unhappy. i'm trying not to think about it, about how she had to walk out into the cold after that with her walker, and how maybe she didn't have anywhere warm to go or anyone who knew her really. but i hope she did.
i'm afraid of getting old.
the sweeping man is missing now, but the lights are still on in the bakery. it's hard to explain just how stark and bright and ridiculous and old fashioned the checkered floor and wooden baking tables look to me, in the context of the dark and busy street that is guerrero. audis zip by, jettas and beamers too. and the man in the apron is using a broom.
when i arrived in sf, the homeless, the madmen, the runaways and crazies, they all affected me. it kind of hurt me to see them, and i was sensitive and upset a lot about them. i promised myself i wouldn't become callous but i did, because that's what you do, because you have to protect yourself in the city, from certain madness of your own. madness brough on by too much undirected caring for the crowds of people who are some version of yourself, wandering the street or living in the marina.
as i slowly prepare to make the transition from sf to somewhere else, my initial sensitivity is back somewhat, and moving through the throngs of people in the city is wearing down my exterior. my shiny beetle shell. i find it more tiring and affecting than usual.
i'm not complaining about sf. i'll be back, i know that. it's my first home.
14 December 2001; 12:00 AM
woke up in peter's
woke up in peter's bed.
last night i rediscovered the joy of sleeping on my side with a pillow between my knees. it's so great. maybe i'm becoming an old lady and soon i'll be buying all this fucked up tempurpedic foam bed stuff, but i swear, it takes the stress off you hips to put the pillow between your knees.
the sky outside is crisp and cloudless. i'm in a good mood because i have enough cash in my pocket to go get a cup of coffee and some otherwise delicious breakfast from 24th street, while i go to check my mailbox.
i fell asleep fantasizing about the hair extensions xep's great friend caitlyn is going to weave into my hair soon.
later; 1:22pm
i remembered so many things and wanted to write so many things to you while i was travelling between checking my mailbox on 24th street, and my home in the lower haight.
the driver of the 24 wanted me dead, he caused the bus to lurch and stall many times as i clutched my mail in one arm and the bar in the other. at one point i fell into the man standing next to me, and stepped on his shoe. he smiled and laughed at me, and i apologized, explaining "i thought i had it, but i didn't"
here's a list of what was in my mailbox:
- NO TOOTHBRUSHES (though a nice guy did send me one last week and i have forgotten to thank him, because i'm an asshole. i wouldn't send myself toothbrushes either)
- my sparkling copy of the oldest history of the world, breathlessy awaited by yours truly
- my copy of the erowid print newsletter, erowid extracts
- the most recent emigre magazine, which contains a cd, to my delight! jim signed me up to receive emigre, thus it was adressed to "elly sandwiches" of "le buh mew" corporation.
- two bras from victorias secret. it is with shame that i admit this to you. but i have one style of bra that i really like, and they make it. and bra shopping is hard.
- various bank statements, tax info, money market account statements
- copy of SAT scores and high school transcript (hopefully this means reed received copies of these items too)
- lone christmas card, from my tax guy. if i'm lucky i'll get one from my doctor too.
...
last night after i had spent some time crouching over peter smelling his neck and earlobes while things went on below our waists, we had a very sleepy conversation about literature, because sex made me talkative i guess.
when peter and i were first dating, he gave me, of all things, a book of academic research/criticism thomas more. i really don't know what posessed him to do this, and have not questioned him further about his motivations since. i did, however, finally start trying to read that book last weekend during the downtime after the koinonea party. it confounded me and i was forced to ask aspirant grad school participant and english major joanna vaught what the deal with thomas more is. after she reminded me about his work "utopia" my distaste for it all came rushing back to me, and it was THIS that i felt the need to tell peter about after sex last night. i also focused some energy on complaining about chaucer, and moved that complaint into a larger grump regarding beowulf. peter admitted to liking beowulf, then told me about some man he met on caltrain once, and then, we fell asleep.
the sunset was really great just now, layers of horizontal clouds, alternating between blue and pink, stretched out across the city, like blankets pulled taut between the sides of the sky.
13 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-13 - 2:39 a.m.
2001-12-13 - 2:39 a.m.
<le> you know
<le> i just had a craving for some psychedelic love drugs
<wb> nice
<wb> which?
<le> ecstacy
<wb> elly before you leave san francisco you have to wander around at least
<wb> once on those drugs
<le> that's very true
<wb> cos in the end. who doesnt like to trip in SF
<jim> Richard Nixon
<wb> so when you end up at your BIG TIME university you can flip your hand
<wb> and go : oh yeah i tripped a lot in san francisco, that's all it
s good
<wb> for.
<wb> Nixon?
12 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-12 - 12:37 a.m.
2001-12-12 - 12:37 a.m.
since my visit with christie earlier today, i've been having a recurring vision. i thought that vision would grow weaker as the day worked it's way through me, but it's grown stronger. i see my heart, and it's green. it looks like a regular heart, just green, or it looks like a heart shape that children draw. it alternates. it's pulsing, but it has black yarn around it, and the yarn constricts it. sometimes it only has one or two strands of yarn around it, other times, many. when i breathe i am trying to expand the heart and snap the yarn, as if the heart were a lung.
when i walked up to my apartment building, i saw that my apartment was the only one with the light on and the blinds up, at midnight. it is a metaphor to me in this moment, and it feels like a cheesy metaphor. but i like it. my light is on and my blinds are up.
i paused to stop at home and get money so i can meet ryan shaw for beer in a minute. a last minute arrangement that took place on chat. i'm feeling pretty woozy and odd, probably because of the great exodus of toxins and emotions caused by my visit with christie today. being with ryan will either be perfect right now, or terrible.
...
here are some pictures from the koinonea party i helped with this past weekend.
11 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-11 - 3:19 a.m.
2001-12-11 - 3:19 a.m.
10 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-09 - 11:53 p.m.
2001-12-09 - 11:53 p.m.
i want to tell you all the things that happened between saturday afternoon and sunday night, how little sleep i got, who i saw and what they were like. who i met. who i met again. but i'm very very sleepy. i'll try and tell you tomorrow what it was like, and how i was happy, and also about the new people i met and what they were like. i should also remember to tell you about the cabin, the party, and the extreme moments of comradery brought on by sleep deprivation and common goals.
at 2pm, after being up all night, i sipped coffee. jory sat to the left of me. we talked and i listened to snippets of our conversation as if it was someone else's. after a pause, a pause that i spent staring into my mug, he said "are you a virgo or a scorpio?" and he meant it, he meant: you must be one or the other.
that's all i've got for you now.
08 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-08 - 8:47 a.m.
2001-12-08 - 8:47 a.m.
good morning. it's almost 9am on saturday and i woke up before my alarm. i'm still in bed, and i haven't even had my morning pee yet.
in a moment i will get up and start gathering items together to take up to the koinonea party. i'm riding up there with gina, and it's a three hour ride. i'm hoping i won't be too sleepy to be of use by later tonight, but i've been so good at sleeping lately i think i will easily curl up and sleep on the floor of the chillspace.
i actually came here specifically to link to coleen. she's such a great writer and she doesn't go in for any online communities of journalers or anything tacky like that, but her journal is so great that i wish for everyone to go read it. also, she speaks french.
i knew that if i got in bed without doing laundry last night that i would regret it. it's no underwear this weekend i suppose.
05 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-05 - 5:52 p.m.
2001-12-05 - 5:52 p.m.
it's raining so much! when it rains, i feel like wearing sweaters, and if i leave the house at all every accomplishment is more worthy of a pat on the back. because when you get things done on a rainy day, it's always ten times harder.
i've been waking up very hungry. i think this is because i've been eating iodine and iron supplements. i wake up craving caesar salads. seriously. so i go eat them.
today i went to visit christie, to get massaged and talk to her about her website. she held her finger against a pressure point on my shoulder blade and asked me questions that were both gentle and probing at the same time. the truth came out of me, unchecked. larger truth than i had actually been telling myself.
i spoke to howard rheingold on the phone yesterday, about reed college. he went there. i laid in bed in my underwear talking to him, batting at the fruit flies that have taken over my apartment, and taking furtive sips of coffee. he asked me if i was a compulsive reader. he told me he was at reed in the sixties. he told me, reed really isn't for some people.
in the minutes after the call, i realized that going to portland doesn't actually mean abandoning san francisco, or the lessons learned here. that the threads of my life that are common, are just that. common. syncronicity has never stopped happening to me and probably never will. this past horrible few months hasn't meant that i've lost all the good things. i can take whatever i want, and leave the rest.
this weekend is koinonea's 2012 party. the first "rave" i went to was a small koin party. the most beautiful parties i've been to have been koin parties and moontribe parties. this year i am helping with the koin party, and just in the past couple of days i've grown very excited about it. i've been gathering items for the altars there, and today at xep's i hit the mutherload, she is moving and so she was happy to give me so many things. fabric candles jars vases christmas lights feathers bones.
it got me to thinking about how things used to be with us and our trance parties. i felt glad to still be contributing in some way, and to have a last koin party before it's time to go to portland. there's also a moontribe party coming up, in death valley.
i met the scooter today. it is very nice and i would like to ride it around. however, it rains.
i'm supposed to be at dinner in an hour, a few blocks away through the rain. i feel more like going to the place near my house and drinking tea and eat crumb cake, but i think if i do that ross will skewer me alive.
*yawn* it's hot cocoa weather.
03 December 2001; 12:00 AM
> 2001-12-03 - 5:36
2001-12-03 - 5:36 p.m.
this just in.
a referring url for this page:
www.google.com/search?q=shitty knickers for sale
02 December 2001; 12:00 AM
2001-12-02 - 2:23 p.m.
2001-12-02 - 2:23 p.m.
i feel i am entering a nonverbose period. which is too bad, because spooky just emailed me to tell me that 28,000 people looked at my journal over on sg.
exercises: speaking less, daydreaming more. thinking without words.
in australia, in the night, as i tried to sleep, i would learn things about myself. i made up little phrases about what i knew would help me be better, and i chanted them to myself in my head while i dozed off. i don't remember the exact phrases, but the gist was: the only important thing is your work. work on yourself, and everyone else will fall into place.
i'm in the middle of one of those days that night owls know well. it's the day you resolve to stay up all day after staying up all night. to "fix" your sleep schedule. i feel utterly insane, and i'm too low energy and scattered to work on anything, so i'm just reloading websites and chatting really hard. i've promised myself that this cracked out sunday is my last day of slack for a while, so i'm just gorging myself on pointlessness.
i want everything to be in motion. i want to be well rested, i want to be working, i want to be taking care of errands, phonecalls. i want to be packing, i want to be househunting, i want to be doing so many things, but this day is a day of extreme limbo, the limbo of broken sleep. it will take time to fix, and tomorrow will be a real monday.
