Monday, December 29, 2008

Sometimes you sulk, sometimes you burn

Currently on the ferry again, going westward.

The last few days have made no sense to me. Sometimes you go home because you need a refresher, sometimes you need to leave home because you need a refresher. My stepdad had a hissy attack at me for no provoked reason. He sent me a facebook mea culpa under the strict advise of my mom. I don't much like apologies if they follow blindly after harsh, cruel words that seemed genuine. I accepted, under the guise that I'm mature, but 8 tenths of me doesn't care anymore.

Had a really nice phone conversation with my sister. She said I'm welcome in her home anytime and that she just sits around doing nothing with her dog and fiancee and her life is boring. That sounds fine to me. I also had an email conversation with none other than Sarah J. that seemed oddly... romantic. Okay, okay. Only romantic in the old-time-y way, not the heart beat sweat love crushin' way. Funny how email seems like a romantic idea. Like letter writing.

I am going to Amherst to drop my things off/sleep and see Sharon. I hope she makes it and everything works out. I have no idea what our plans are. At this point I'd be fine and almost want to just get in my Beddy and never get up again.

After a rage attack of crying last night in which I was forced to use red green and gold Christmas tissue paper in my room for my snot because I was too afraid to leave my room and use actual tissues, well, after that, I didn't fall asleep until 3:30ish. I got up at 7 today to meet my mom. We went to Mocha Mott's (the only thing that never dies on this island) and met up with Carter and Joanna who all saw me off. Joanna reminds me of a cuddly hamster. She snuggled me and I thought, "Wow she reminds me of a cuddly, big eyed, jazzy-voiced hamster... but cute". The art in MM's now hanging was done by the Ukranian crazy lady baker who wears mini skirts, a turban, and visible thongs. The art is scary as all shit. Like dead baby in a closet what the fuck is that ghost grandmother stapled to my breakfast table doing there crazy scary. I wanted to take a picture to show people how messed up it is but I was afraid the lens of my camera would break and the cartridge of memory would hold a demon that would possess me, no lie.

Currently in an awkward position. This girl with blue glittery eye shadow came up to me on the boat and asked to charge her iphone on my laptop because she can charge it only that way. I said sure. And then it asked me to upload 80 of her photos. I said no. Then it said, "Error can't detect Iphone because you don't have itunes 8.3". So I tried installing itunes, and it said error at the end and it won't install. And the screen of her phone is black. So I have no idea if this is charging. I'm doing her a favor and it's slightly awkward because she's a stranger but I fear that it's not charging her phone because I don't have a high enough itunes. I feel perplexed. And I don't know where she went. I feel like I'd never trust a stranger with my iphone. Although, I am wearing my hair with a braid and flower in it. I feel like that makes me look highly responsible because I was at work once with a braid and this lady asked me to watch her kids that night and I had no idea who she was and she had no idea who I was. I was just a random bookstore clerk. I just had a braid and that says Prude, Pride, Puritan, Trustworthy. But to me it says Bad Hair Day Three Hours of Sleep.

I designed this George tshirt with my favorite quote on it. I want to find a way to make it. The white block I wouldn't have around it but I was not sure how to change it because I'm not quite tech savvy.

1 comment:

sarah j. said...

romantic, eh?

once a girl i worked with at b&n was pregnant and a customer asked her if she was keeping the baby, and if not she wanted to adopt it. one step weirder than asking you to babysit.