cashew butter an blizzards an shit.

fuck you, 1-2 feet of snow that casually decides to pick my only travel day for the next three weeks to fall specifically on boston. you couldnt have waited like, 24 hours? see, i dont mind snow. shit, i dont even mind FEET of snow. i lived in boston, its called winter, it happens. every year. so if i was just bitching about it being cold or some shit, i'd say youre free to call me a whiny twat. but since im not, you cant. im not really THAT butthurt, i just really wouldve preferred to not have had to wake up at 4:30 am , practically miss my flight because of inssssaaaaaaaane security lines, AND have an ENTIRE (unopened) jar of cashew butter thrown away all for nothing. what kind of fascist considers nut butters to be a security risk?? seriously. dont try and bring nut butters on a plane. its considered a liquid (well, technically it considered a paste, but i guess pastes count too) so it has to be under 3oz to travel. but my loaf of gf bread lived to tell the tale. i tried going back to security to see if i could like, get my cashew butter back but they looked at me like i was nuts. then asked if i was sure i didnt check it. yeah homie, im hauling 3olbs worth of bike bag carry ons but that single jar is totally get checked.

right.

so, still in austin. fingerscrossed, ill be outta here manana. so far it looks like the worst is overnight and im not rolling into boston til 5:30, so i think itll be clear by then. getting off plane, and buying cashew butter.

douches.

i found this interesting. i like it. im a little douchey, but i knew that. its long, but i think you can all read and whatnot so im sure you'll survive. i tried just copy/pasting but it got all gnarly. so, sorry.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2010/how-to-be-a-complete-douche/

hawtness.

hot damn. i wanna ride this bike around germany. its. so. pretty. im nerding out right now, and i dont even LIKE this sorta shit.

http://formigliusa.com/cm/Custom_Road_Bikes/Italian_Steel_Road_Bicycle_Custom_Frame.html

i love my folks.

why cant my family ever fucking make a plan and stick to it? i applaud their bohemian, laissez faire "itll all get done when it gets done" mentality but IT TURNS ME INTO A NERVOUS WRECK.

there's never a plan. or if there is, its going to change 4 or 5 times.

no one ever communicates. ever. except through me- as in "have you talked to your sister? what does she want to do? is she up yet? what about her girlfriend? is she working?" WHY DONT YOU CALL HER AND ASK HER YOURSELF??? or, when you do maybe relay the info to me so i can...i dont know, get ready to go, or know if i need to plan on well, ANYTHING.

no one is ever on time.

and im always the asshole if i cant make whatever it is even if its across town, in the rain, with 5 minutes notice. everything seems to revolve around my sister, like nothing can be planned unless it has been cleared and approved by her. which means i never know what the fuck im doing until someone remembers to tell me. which they dont.

honestly, my mom just stresses me out. she always looks like shes on the verge of breaking, or flying of the hinges. it makes me uneasy. her around my dad is just too much family in one spot. i always hated when they were around each other. because she always has him around whoever shes with at the time and its like, too much emotional awkwardness. for me at least.

no one else seems to give a fuck, but its just too much.

i fucking hate having to be around them.

it makes me want to climb the walls.

coffee, i can handle. drinks, sure. want me to ride my bike and meet you all somewhere, totally down. but take away my bike, put me in a car with my parents and ill have an anxiety attack.

uggggggh why couldnt we have just gone to yoga in the morning like we'd planned? then everything wouldve gone smoothly, and as planned and i wouldnt be here in bed still feeling frustrated and exhausted.

"full"

alrighty, its officially been four days since i've felt like total ass...thanks, brain chemistry. im glad you decided to realign in my favor this time. i keep forgetting to like, update things when im happy. i think that's a general thing with technology though; when you're enjoying life you arent thinking about getting on facebook...and everyone knows blogging isnt high on my list of things to do unless im bored(√) or having a breakdown/venting/whining/being charming...anyway.

sorry if you were concerned.

although considering this is a public blog, and theres a link in my fb info, and i knoooooow some of you guys reading this actually like, know me (as in see me/talk to me on a regular basis)...if you were all that worried you shouldve asked me. it isnt creepy, it lets me know a) somebody's actually reading this shit, and b) you like, actually care about me. i mean, im not an idiot, im well aware what "public" vs "private" means (not to mention its on my fucking facebook). so yeah, i think some of the reason why i started this anyway was to openly vent without feeling like i was putting people out. everyone (including myself) has short attention spans, and im really insecure about my inability to control my brain-to-mouth spillage so...i dunno. im always trying to err on the side of shutting the fuck up publicly. plus, its heavy a lot of the time, and who the hell wants to hear some little chick bitch about feeling fat or being insecure?

it isnt even the real issue. seriously. for me (and a lot of people with eating disorders) "feeling fat"=

feeling insecure about "real" shit. it isnt the same as when you eat a pint of ice cream when you're hungover and you get full and go "ughhhhh i fell so faaaaat now." <--thats just equating feeling full with fat and while i (and too many people,actually) totally do that, that isn't really our general pathology.

now,i can really only speak for myself here, as i try not to assume all ed people follow the same logic (but as with most people with addictions the commonalities in our thinking is eerily similar) but when im "feeling fat" that usually means im emotionally unhappy and frustrated with, well, anything i think is beyond my control- school/life/friends/lovers etc.- so i focus on my external.

why? because if i focused on my internal self i wouldnt have a fucking eating disorder.

luckily, this aint my first rodeo. ive had an ed to varied levels of obviousness since i was...well. shit. i guess i was always overly aware of my body in relation to other peoples (by always, i mean always, i have vivid memories of thinking my thighs were too big when i was like, 9) but i didnt start altering my eating habits until i was 15ish. so its been over a decade. which is really sad. buuuut it means ive had a lot of time to think, and work, on the what/why/how of everything and honestly i know my triggers.

whether i honor them or not is entirely variable. but i make the choice now, and when im rested and being relatively productive i can usually make choices that err on the side of not destroying my body.

exhale

siggggghhhhh.

well, post hungover meltdown this morning i rode up to my sister's and went to bikram.

goddamn, i needed that. i love bikram because you just sweat and stretch and sweat until you literally feel like you got your ass kicked in the most zen, amazing way humanly possible. we're going back wednesday, i cant wait. i think tomorrow ill go for a run (ie- slow jog) and ride some more. i just keep looking at myself in the mirror and im stunned at how, i dont know, mushy(?) ive gotten. i just look puffier i guess. its not like, i want to starve myself into an emaciated twig or anything, i just miss MOVING. i miss waking up and going for a run or going to bikram and starting my day already having accomplished something. i feel so stuck and stagnate here in austin, and since i have to be here for at least another six or seven months i have to make the best of it. so fucking a, if people want to bitch at me for going home early and sober so i can go running, or riding, or to yoga in the morning they can go fuck themselves.

after yoga (and an AMAZING shower) i rode to spiderhouse and met my fam, friends, drank an americano...went to liberty, saw my darling ladies (NONE of which even noticed i wasnt drinking and NONE tried convincing me that being sober was stupid. my girls rule, fyi)....home at 9pm. watching "the vice guide to everything" and actually really stoked on it.

i guess ice cube said it best, but fuck it. all in all today...well. you know:

little/big a

dont you love it when you tell people you arent drinking anymore and they argue AGAINST it?? like, literally my morning conversation went like this:

me: "i dunno. im piecing it together and every idiotic thing ive ever done, it's been while drinking, and honestly im sick of feeling like a total idiot in the morning. and my fucking body hurts"

> "we all do stupid shit when we're drunk. who cares?"

me: "i care"

>"well, stop caring."

me: "what?"

>"i mean, you have to just roll with it. you only live once. "

me: "well, i would like to not be hungover the whole time."

*silence

me: "you all act like i didnt just start drinking. i didnt drink for like, 4 fucking years. im just over it again"

>"well, you never came out when you werent drinking. you werent any fun"

me: "i can be fun when im sober"

>"no you cant"

this town is seriously wrecking my soul.

• 宆 • π¡Åm! •

furthermore

after obsessive compulsively trolling about every goddamn celiac forum board whatever, i thiiiink i can safely say the source of my darling morning vom session was none other than some bastard, renegade hugs that i assuuuumed were okay.

fucking hershey's.

cunts.

dear government™,
just because you repealed DADT (good job, dipshits, it shouldnt have been a law in the first place) doesnt mean i didnt notice this DREAM douchebaggery. really? really? oh, fuck off already.
love, ruth

http://www.cnn.com/2010/POLITICS/12/18/dadt.dream.act/index.html?iref=obinsite

Washington (CNN) -- The Senate voted 65-31 on Saturday to repeal the "don't ask, don't tell" law, which bans openly gay people from serving in the armed forces.

The measure now goes to President Obama to sign. The House of Representatives passed the measure 250-175 on Wednesday.

Obama and the Pentagon must certify that repealing the 1993 law will not adversely affect the armed services.

Obama earlier Saturday called an earlier procedural vote advancing the repeal toward a final vote a "historic step toward ending the controversial policy."

"It is time to close this chapter in our history," Obama said.

Earlier Saturday, a bill that would have offered a path to citizenship to some illegal immigrants who entered the United States as children failed a procedural vote.

Known formally as the Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors Act, the DREAM Act fell five votes short of the 60 needed to be considered for final passage.

Obama said Saturday that the failure of the Senate to move the DREAM Act forward was "incredibly disappointing."

warning, this is super yum.

well. THAT was fun.

here's a quick heads up:

when you feel like youve been glutened, and 5 hours later you still feel like youve been glutened, youve BEEN GLUTENED. and it is going to be absolutely disgusting when it comes out of your stomach.

disgusting and really, really painful. as in acidic BLACK bile, maybe some old blood from where the gluten caused ulcers to bleed around your lower intestine, and of course all that fun awesome gluten contaminated food.

i have no idea why the hell my resilient little-engine-that-could body has to have the jankiest goddamn digestive system ever. like, this shit is genetic. this is probably the one physical problem i cant blame on the eating disorder shit, and is the one that seriously, seriously NOT HELPING me get my shit together.

my throat is raw, my stomach's bloated, my eyes are totally puffy and my body still hurts.

celiac's literally causes your body to think it has been poisoned by a fucking bread crumb.

uh, hello, HOW FUCKING IRONIC IS THAT??

the real tragedy is that all i WANT to do, really, truly, is ride my bike, go to yoga and get the hell out of this cave of a room. and i will. it just may have to wait for tomorrow.

99.5º

in last night's little psychotic meltdown i must have ingested some gluten-y amazingness and (basically) got zero sleep last night, had stomach acid doing god knows what to my throat, got some super awesome sweats, and am now in the fetal position debating if it's even worth it to try and puke whatever the fuck is still lurking in my stomach up.

so much for yoga.

oh yeah, and ive got a fever.

but that might be the gluten.

or i may not be glutened, maybe i have like, a virus or something. my stomach was wonky all yesterday too, but i assumed that was from thursday's happy-fun-b/p session.

doubt it.

pretttttty sure i was just an idiot and didnt read some label right.

ugggggghhhhhhhh

i really, really, really wanted to go to yoga and ride my bike and drink tea and do happy things today. and i cant fucking MOVE because i feel like i have burning acid rocks in my stomach.

fuck thiiiissssss

i keep trying to calm down and like, do some breathing and be patient incase the stress is making my stomach all churny, but i cant help it. i dont know whats going on and my burps seriously tasted like stale vomit. this is soooooo gross.

goodnight

my teeth are so sharp, i rip open the sides of my mouth when i bite my lip. ive lazily bitten into the same spot three times in the last 5 minutes because its swollen i guess. i can feel the loose shredded skin. it hurts. ugh. it hurts so much.

uh

i hurt.

chugged like, a gallon of fucking water.

which is stupid.

although, "stupid" is a relative concept when youre a bulimic.

more or less, everything i do is "stupid".

still.

feeling full has got to be the number one, most awful, uncomfortable, anxiety-squirmy feeling EVER.

and yes, i recognize the absolute evilness of that.

im fully aware that being "full" is a metaphor for some shit, that means someone didnt fucking hug me enough or whatever and ive heard ALL about how having an eating disorder is a total "luxury" disorder and all that other bullshit, self-righteous, nose-in-the-air "silly, stupid girls wanting to be skinny" crap.

i mean, the rational bit of me is all flag waving feminism and body love shit too, ya know.

then i stick my head in the toilet.

i mean, i dont weigh myself because i KNOW i wont be okay afterward.

people seem to think i dont weigh myself because ive somehow liberated myself from all of this.

you know what sucks?

thinking you have.

and being proud of yourself for being open and accountable, and patient, and all that jazz.

then you realize your thighs are beginning to touch and all of a sudden it spirals and spirals because a LITTLE recovery is okay, a LITTLE gainning, a LITTLE loosening, a LITTLE loss of control. but then all of a sudden it isnt a LITTLE its a LOT and now all i can fucking think about now is how full i feel now and how fat i am and how all my work not purging and tryyyyying to break all my shitty austin habits in miami is totally fucked now.

but yeah, all of you darlings reading this dont reeeeeeeally care, i know. things on this end arent quite as tidy and awesome as my going out party self is. and everyone is totally okay assuming for some goddamn reason all i do is drink and have, like, soooo much fun like all the tiiiiime. i have one person who i know will never, ever, ever, ever buy that bullshit. and i love him so much for that. he knows because he's had to witness this shit firsthand, this up and down and crying and weighing and puking and starving and saying im okay when im not and making promises we all know i cant keep no matter how much i do want to. he also remembers that up until a YEAR ago i refused to drink because i swore itd make me fat. HELLLLLLOOOOOO?!?

ugh.

it makes me sad how much life ive wasted, and how much life im going to continue to waste because i flicked a switch a decade ago and now i cant unflick it.

rotten.

holy.

fucking.

shit.

goddamn.

goddamn.

FUCK.

MY TEETH ARE FUCKING ROTTING.

LITERAL HOLES.

IN.

MY.

TEETH.

go ahead, ask me:

did that stop me from shoving my fingers down my throat?

did that stop me from mechanically eating food (even though i didnt want it? even though i dont really remember deciding to do it? even though it consciously occurred to me that actually tastes revolting?)?

did that stop me at all?

i mean i got what, FOUR days into my trip before i was sticking my head in the toilet.

ooooooh and i got what, an HOUR into the flight home before i was eating my weight in nuts and heading to the airplane bathroom to barf it up?

MY ASS IS HUGE AND MY TEETH ARE ROTTING.

this shit is fucking cancer.

this room is fucking cancer.

if i cant get my shit together soon, im taking a fucking bat to my face and wiring my jaw shut.

and you know, committing myself.

(not)home

back in austin.

im a frazzled, depressed, bloated, ovary aching mess.

you know you're in the wrong place when both you AND your traveling partner are crying to yourselves as the plane lands.

i cry every time i come back to austin.

i want to be anywhere but here.

late.

it's still the eighth as far as im concerned.

reeeeally?!

sharp

stabbing

pains

in

stomach

for

almost

six

hours

bff bmx/polo

http://www.flickr.com/photos/missrutheg/sets/72157625414526749/

rules.

i need some new rules, because this is getting ridiculous. i know i'll get some shit for this, but honestly, i dont care.

•this is absolutely necessary to get out of the b/p habit•

1. no eating after 7pm

2. zero trigger foods

3. one drink limit a day (if i dont drink one day i can have two drinks but never more than two)

4. if triggered, no food/no booze.

5. walk/jog at least every other day

6. at least two meetings a week.

- basically, i cant eat much of anything for right now. sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but i have to get my shit together. and it isnt like anyone's helping me or offering support so your opinions really dont matter. which sounds shitty but sticking your head in the toilet everyday, and not being able to wear your clothes anymore because you've gotten too fat is shittier. i feel so gross and uncomfortable now, i cant even focus right now because all i can think about is how puffy and gross i look. this is how i have to do it.

WIN!!

me and my bestie make the best shit ever....coming soon to a roof/mailbox/shirt/wall/face/surface near you. LOVE.

slleeeeeeepppps

does me good.

except when i sleep til 2pm and end up right back where i started bein up at 2 am going "oh right. i should be tired now."

well, i had a good night.

successfully wore my sparkle shorts (did not rip my tights and/or become a sequin mess), got lots of hugs, said "i love you" bunches, and my house in boston is going to be full of darling austin polo kids in january. which makes me very, very happy.

when i go from despondent to stoked in 2.5 seconds i have to stop myself from analyzing it into oblivion. these days ive learned to just grin like a motherfucker and appreciate every fucking happy day i can get. i'm really, really grateful for the people in my life. it makes it easier to pull my head outta my ass.

and get tacos at midnight. yums.

pause

im gonna have to drug myself i guess. i got two hours of sleep last night. this shit is seriously getting ridiculous. this makes it about two months since ive gone to bed before 1am and the 9th or 10th day straight on less than 4 hours of sleep. so yeah. time to bust out the tylenol pm, suck it up and just zombie it up because yeah. two hours of sleep fucking sucks. i really really love sleeping. i miss it.

so two hours and had an exam. i came home and tried to sleep, i think i managed to pass out for like thirty minutes. i just feel so down because of it. im really removed from everything, like im watching my life through goggles. someone elses goggles.

so tylenol pm it is. im hoping that'll kinda reset everything. ive been crossing my fingers a lot these days. but here goes nothing. again.

what?!?

it's fucking december?!

time flies when you're sleep deprived.

so i totally found out part of whats waking me up pissed everyday. outside my window there's this tree, and i dont know WHAT its major malfunction is, but it has taken to banging randomly on the railing(?) of the floor directly above me. it sounds like someone slamming cabinets over and over again. but randomly. so its gets super annoying. think i may go investigate, see if i can like, move whatever its knocking against or somethin.

im preeeetttty sure thats what it is. if it isnt the tree then my next door neighbors are, in fact, opening and shutting cabinets over and over again for hours on end. which is kinda not okay.

∑´®†¥¨ˆøπ“≠–ºª•¶§∞¢£™¡

i really didnt want to think of a word. so look, hit option and random shit appears when you hit letters. its fucking magical. pffft.

so me going to "all my classes" is prob going to be more like me going to one of my classes. my last class starts in half an hour. im in bed. i have no pants on. and most importantly, i really really REALLY dont have any desire to move right now. fuck. fuck. fckity fuck.

no, actually, my BODY doesnt want to move. my MIND hasnt shut up about school and doctor appointments and checklists and everything else under the sun in ages. my minds going "get up you lazy asshole, DO SOMETHING" and my body's just lounging on the couch flipping it off.

see, i know my body is tired. it's the one thats lost all the sleep had its heart rate sped up because of this medication and gets knocked into shit when im half awake. and when my body is tired my mind goes of the hinges. when im exhausted i get cranky as shit, human interaction overwhelms me, any sort of obligation causes me to panic. like right now. i wish someone actually knew what this is like, to be so tired you dont even want to leave the house but so anxious you cnt sleep. its FRUSTRATING.

i feel like my body fucking hates me.

like, it shouldnt be this weak. mind over matter right? so why can't i will it to go faster and do more and not be so achey and sleepy and weepy and needy all the time. i will sleep, i will rest it, but i have to do shit too, and my body just doesnt want to do anything. it took me half an hour to will myself up to pee. im not exaggerating here.

and i wish i could be patient. i wish i could be like, "okay body, i know you're super tired so how about we lay around all day and ill see if one of my friends will drive me to whatever errand i have and then ill come home and take a tylenol pm at 9 and all will be well."

buuuuuuuut in reality its like this:

"dammit body it's almost 1pm how are we just getting up and holy shit i have five, FIVE texts from different people ALL wanting to do shit and ALL wanting to know what im doing and dammit body get up we have to answer these and shit i need coffee, fuck whats today? i have to go (insert errand/school/actual obligation), dammit okay well i can do that on the way to do whatever and try and get everyone in the same spot so its not like friend then friend then friend then ill come home and rest, right? okay. oh fuck its so and so's birthday tonight and there's some ride to some show okay well ill bring you home early body, ill rest tomorrow, promise."

everyday.

EVERYDAY.

i joked about turning my phone off and just hermiting out for a day or two and i realised like, tomorrows a buddy's birthday(actually, two peoples birthdays but i thiiiink one of them is waiting til friday or sat to do anything. bless her fucking soul), thursday= amazing graf show AND the start of bff (and school. ha. priorities), friday=queer bomb fundraiser and bff, saturday=more birthdays and bff, sunday=polo tournament, bff and a friends bday party/benefit.

ill be dead monday. a zombie by thursday for florida. and thank fucking god by travel buddy is amazing and not a super party time "go go go" person. and is stressed too. so beaches, farmers market cookery, vintage shopping and intercity bike riding is about as insane as we're getting. maybe some dancin. sleeping is a definite go though.

OH. ANNNNNNND the writer/producer of that movie shit just rewrote the script, emailed it to us, and wants schedules for december shooting. december is like, tomorrow. december is also a ginormous traveling clusterfuck. luckily, im only shooting 3 days, so yeah. ill deal with that when i need to i guess. i've been cast in this thing since like, september so im kinda like, "meh." at this point.

whew.

okay i feel better now.

list.

1. sleep

2. stop with the b/p

3. no really, stop it.

4.must.start. going. to. meetings. again.

5.get paint

6. use it

7.ask for hugs

8. tell the truth

9. handle your business

10. really, stop b/p

nye

just occurred to me i'll literally be completely by myself this year, house sitting in boston. don't know how i feel about that.

sad, i guess.

a little alone, perhaps.

not sure.

food.

feel a little bit better with some sleep.

im still tired, and i really have to work on being so hard on myself for having like, limitations. or still being really, really sensitive about my body and what people say about it. or something.

especially around the holidays. the holidays are shitty for me, mostly because for almost a decade they were the only times my family was all able to collectively give me shit about what i was or wasnt eating at the time. by "give me shit" i suppose what i mean is worriedly watch everything i did, talk in hushed voices to my mom and dad about whether i was "okay", dance around me like i was made of glass. i dont know, it was all with love i guess, but i knew what was going on. i mean, im not stupid. but it sucked, because believe it or not, i hate that kind of attention. im loud and shit, but thats to distract people from everything relevant to who i really am. and that period of time i felt lost enough without having what i looked like be the 24/7 focus. ball of fucking anxiety. anyway, to this day i immediately react defensively when people ask me about what im eating or if they should bring anything special for me. it just reminds me of when everything was centered around my fucking eating disorder and makes me really uncomfortable. so you can imagine thanksgiving sucks. luckily, most people i chose to be around either a) dont really give a shit who eats and who doesnt as long as everyones having a good time or b) just let me take care of myself and navigate the food situation as i will.

i mean, 90% of the time i will eat, it just takes me a while. and honestly, the minute it's brought up my little rebellious ed kicks in and any chance of me relaxing enough to behave like a normal human goes out the window. last thanksgiving i made roasted vegetables and for the first half of the dinner party i picked at those before actually getting anything anyone else brought. and then it was cool. until someone i was dating at the time pointed out i was eating a bunch of mashed potatoes.

here's a tip: NEVER TELL A GIRL WITH AN EATING DISORDER SHES EATING 'A LOT'.

especially when she isnt concerned about it. especially on thanksgiving. especially when it was after riding 23 miles and having only eaten roasted goddamn vegetables all day. especially if you dont want her to immediately start debating the pros and cons of shoving her fingers down her throat.

DUH.

so yeah. im not perfect, im still weak in triggering situations, and for better or worse if im feeling too tired to deal with it, i will remove myself and wait til im up for shit again. if im worried thanksgiving dinner is going to end with my head in the toilet i dont eat it. when im hungry later and shit isnt so frantic i know ill eat and itll be cool.

i know this is long, i just needed to get it all out, and i know there's people reading this going "holy fuck, bitch is crazy". eh. i dont really give a fuck. if you didnt know i had an eating disorder now you do. and i dont think im alone being triggered emotionally by holidays, may be some of you just drink more or cry more, or lock yourselves in rooms and refuse to come out til after new year.

im feelin alright today i guess. i guess im thankful for that.

rant.

omgomgomgimgetttingsofatthisisntcuteanymorewhythefuckamidrinkingishouldntbethisgatomgmythighsaretoughingandmyarmslookfucinghugeinalltheseoicturesandimyclothesarealltightandihavefoodinmystomachnoeandijustwanttosobandiwanttogetitallgoneandbenothingbutatragainifuckinghatetheholidaysiveforgottenmyselfiletgoandnowimhugeandacharacaurofmyselfandithastostop.howdidthishappennoreallyhowdidthishappenwhenididigetadoublechiniwsaeroihaveadoublechinsanditsofuckingdisgustinghowthefuckdidmyassgetsofatitgothugeeveryoneissayinghowbugmyassisstoplookingatitstopsayinghowbigitisitisntacomplimentitssickstopitstopitstopitleavemealoneimnotjustsomebitchwhodrinksihatedrinkingihaventdrankalldayimsofatandihatemyselfforgettingthisloosewitheverythingtryingtobenormalimsuchadisgustingfailureijustwantmybonesback.

DANG(!)

dangsgiving, yall.

fav holiday of the year. i feel so goddamn lucky to be able to say i've known all those jerks since it was still socially acceptable to be as epically awesome as we all still behave. every year has its 'holy shit" moment though and this year was no different.

i literally got sprayed in the face with andre from beyond the grave.

it was beautiful.

i fucking miss you austin. we all do. and you know, im kinda not sorry for scammin on you when you weren't legal. but i am sorry for trying to hook you up with my little sister...who isnt really into your, er, gender....godammit dude, you got me good.

you fucking rule.

love love love love

youtube

monday nights with brendan and co....mostly consist of finding amazing videos online and giggling.

here, for your enjoyment....

*cuntsparrer:

*kittens inspired by kittens:

*bitches aint shit...:

*marcel the shell:

triggers.

wowza.

i hadnt seen tucson pictures in a long time.

seen so many pictures of myself this way, i got used to it.

really, genuinely forgot what i looked like then.

feel weird now.

not in the way i should.

fail.

ugh. guess im getting old. or i really HAVENT been sleeping as such i was hoping. but im exhausted. and, despite sewing some epic hotpants for the tranarchy festivities, really, really, really just want to lay outside under some trees and stare at the stars and cuddle. im just not up for raging these days even though i want to be. being at home makes me anxious, and i miss being able to just grab some stencils and paint and hop on my bike and make an epic night out of just making art with my best friend.

it's absolutely amazing outside tonight, and for some reason there's only a couple of people on the face of the earth i really want to be around. im not the type to settle for whatever is convenient. which is inconvenient. if i could id just get all dolled up and ride it out til i felt it was socially acceptable to tap out, but all id feel at the end of the night was lonely. i feel like im biding my time, waiting. and im very impatient on the inside.

my brain is always restless. it just keeps going and going and going. even when my body is tired and devoid of any energy, my brain keeps whirring. i have a million ideas, a million thoughts i want to discuss, a million spots and roofs and yards ive found and no one to share them with. it's difficult. i feel like a total contradiction; i want to be free but need a companion. i want to be social, but only with certain people. everything else feels forced. its exhausting. i have no home base person anymore, and most of the time i dont really feel like i have a home base period.

i dont like needing things, i dont like feeling as if i need rescuing, i dont like being that kind of person. it confuses me. i hate obligation, it makes me anxious. i dont like being one half of a "we". i think thats sick and unhealthy.it weirds me out, this concept of losing yourself in another person. yet im a total fucking girl about people i dont even know, really. i still find it utterly romantic, this bonnie and clyde kind of shit. partners in crime, awesome people doing awesome shit because theyre stoked on doing it.

i guess im staying in, staring at the sky, and making art by myself.

freeze.

i cant turn my mind off. the quiet makes everything whir and hum.

the last time i think i slept without running myself into exhaustion was like, a month ago.

i wish it werent so cold. it was beautiful riding tonight. itd have been a good night to go play in the park and sleep under an old oak tree.

loves

sleep.

probably not, but i can hope.

this makes me miss you being around.

i'm okay though, it's a good kind of miss.

ohhhh

my aching fucking ovaries.

liked it better when i never got one of these.

teehee

i only go places with songs about them.

wee

so far my december/beginning of january looks like this:

austin>>miami>>boston/nyc>>boston>>austin>>boston/nyc>>austin.

it's a bit coast heavy. but all my west coast peoples are either here now, or like, i dunno. i dont really want to go to california. at least not now. i'd rather see some beaches not slicked with oil and gasoline (yet), wander around a state ive never been to before, get in a bit of snow, eat some trident fries, bust my ass riding bikes in inclement weather and almost die on the china town bus.

and you know, hug my mom and whatnot.

okay, im excited.

maybe if i survive that i'll actually be able to concentrate on the ridiculous amount of photo studios i have next semester.

too

too impulsive. too awkward. too loud. too opinionated. too picky. too tired. too distractable. too sensitive. too short. too drunk. too sober. too sad. too intellectual. too lazy. too naive. too fat. too reckless.

too much.

too much.

too much.

never enough.

dad.

today's my dad's birthday.

i could write a bunch about how rad he his, how much he loves me and would like, walk on hot coals and shards of glass to help me. i could wax nostalgic about painting with him in the studio, eating pancakes and watching the political round table shows on sunday mornings. rainy days we'd spend in old bookstores curled up in different corners reading all day. my dad taught me how to ride a bike (into a tree), how to load film, that vanilla extract makes EVERYTHING taste better. he put bacon in pancakes, apples in smoothies, and jelly in omlettes. when i weighed 65 lbs, other than apples and diet soda the only thing i would eat was his food: oatmeal in the mornings or spaghetti and this gravy type sauce he'd whip up whenever i wanted. he makes the best steamed veggies in the whole world. when my dog died he buried her and built a mosaic over her grave. being 16 and running around like a hellion in nyc my dad kept in daily contact with me, eventually came up to visit, brought food to my friends, shook their hands and hugged them for looking out for me, shot pictures of everyone when we went out that night. he taught me how to plant trees and build fences. my art eerily resembles his. i could talk about how traumatised he is now due to my obsession with the little mermaid- he's seen it at least 50 times.

yeah, my dad loves me.

he's always pushed me to be more than i thought i could be, encouraged me to do whatever it was that made me happy, to work hard, work harder. he's had to bear with me much, much more than any parent should. worrying about what random shit i was going to dream up to do with my life (that would directly contradict whatever i'd said the day before) has probably given him 20 ulcers and shaved 10 years off his life. part of me never wants to have kids because, karmically, they'd have to be serial killers (or total douchebags) to make up for the effort involved in making sure i lived to see 25.

even if he forgot it was my birthday when i was 18. (sorry dad, you know im neverrrrr letting you forget that)

so, dad, you rock. you're not perfect, or god (at some point you have to stop answering "what i have to do with it?" when i say "goddammit") but but i think you're the best dad i could've hoped for. and i love you.

happy fucking birthday.

mourn.

We were waking up
There was some blood coming from my mouth
And a little fear my heart
I knew the concern you were showing
As my lover dying in thought
As my breath became so shallow and sparse

It's been a long time since then
But I could feel myself repairing
Before I began to damage myself again
And I conceded my father and my brother just as well
We cannot escape the cause of this lifestyle

My breath is a hammer
My insides are taxed like an anvil
My heartbeat's a tremor
And I have not love but for nicotine

And I was sick all of the winter and summer aren't more the same
Was always sweatstained and frozen
Yet hot like an engine
And with sleep came the cursing
You know I
I like hands clasp themselves with conviction

There is little a man can do
When his body is bent on a reckoning
These wounds can be hidden so well
Yeah like a demon
And I can hear it in my voice, oh Lord
Can't you hear it too?
And it scares me almost to tears
As I know it will take you

My breath is a hammer
My insides are taxed like an anvil
My heartbeat's a tremor
And I have not love but for nicotine

My breath is a hammer
My insides are taxed like an anvil
My heartbeat's a tremor
And I have not love but for nicotine

hermit.

my fucking stomach hurts. im really tired, more so than i should be considering i (kinda) slept last night and quite literally left my house once yesterday. spent the whole day hermited up in my room, generally avoiding face to face interactions with human beings. i tend to need that about once a week. like a reset button.

so this morning, after sleeping through my first class (again) i made plans for post-school coffee in an effort to force myself out of the house through sheer guilt motivated obligation. i had the spare time so i went and got coffee when i was waiting to get my prescription filled, by the time i was done i was debating the pros and cons of self-induced iced coffee barfing. maybe i drank it too fast. i dunno. anyway, i made it home and am now quite literally wedged into the corner of our couch, in the fetal position, with my laptop balancing on my hip. it's cozy. but not terribly conducive to doing anything. which is cool, because im fairly devoid of motivation period these days. my brain's all foggy and scattered, impatient. i cant sit still, but i totally lack the desire to move. there's a consistent urge to be carried everywhere. preferably via piggy back.

maybe i need a nap.

or an actual sleep schedule.

either way im wishing my eyes would stop feeling so heavy, and hoping a ride on sparkle bike will get me sorted.

fingerscrossed.

eights.

its the third eighth. this one is harder.

fff.

air.

all i need is an open road and a hand to hold.

ghosts.

cant find a song that said what i wanted

and could highlight the shit that made sense of

the drinking/sinking/blank-stared blinking

but i bet it'd explain in articulate terms

why im constantly grasping at ghosts

chasing after breezes

created by ambiguous figments of an imagination

still too starry eyed for cityscapes

too hopeful for ironic disillusions

too connected to dissconnect

two wheels cant replace two arms

the warmth of kinetic motion will lose its glow

when all thats there after is an empty bed

and cold sheets.

ode.

let’s stop this talk of privilage because the songs that we sing are as much
a product of our privilage as the clothes on my back and the phone call i made
to my mom last night. let’s stop this talk of action because action comes easy
it’s the moments just before that are hard, when i’ve got to get my voice and
my fist on the same page as my heart. let’s stop this talk of them because the
things we find deplorable in politicians, ceos and cops are the same things
that will tear ourselves apart. and let’s stop this talk of words because words
like dishonesty selfishness and greed aren’t as distance to us as we’d like
to believe.

so please, the next time you’re smashing the state, don’t go breaking my heart.
because i know that when we pick up the pieces, the only thing left will be
the same empty rubble that’s made up every revolution that i’ve ever known to
make me believe and lose faith in humanity in the same empty breath of hot air.

they say that the beauty’s in the streets. but when i look around, it seems
more like defeat. i’m afraid that this fight that we’re all caught up in will
make us the same as that which we oppose.

so please, the next time you’re smashing the state, don’t go breaking my heart.
but i know that we can pick up the pieces and build something new, something
different. that’s not like every revolution that i’ve ever known that can make
me believe and have faith in humanity and we’ll all breath a breath of fresh
air.

if any

one needed any further proof what a goddamn gemini i am, i literally (LITERALLY) have not one, but TWO songs stuck in my head.

seriously. so take your pick:

crass.

Oh yeah? Well I've got it all up here, see?
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? When they think they've got it all out there, see?
They can fuck off, cos they ain't got me, they can't buy my dignity,
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Let me tell you, I've got it all up here?

Tried to get me with a T.V. show,
But I wouldn't have none of it, no, no, no.
Standards and values on a black and white screen,
Sarah Farah Fawcett acting mean.
She's got the lot, that's what they want you to think,
Read between the lines, you'll see the missing link.
She's just a fucking puppet in their indoctrination plan,
"Be like me girls and become a real man,"
Live to the full, always act flash,
Don't use your brains when your body makes the splash.

Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well I've got it all up here, see?
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? When they think they've got it all out there, see?
They can fuck off, cos they ain't got me, they can't buy my dignity,
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Let me tell you, I've got it all up here?

Tried to get me in the supermarket store,
Bought what I wanted, they they said "buy more."
Mountains of crap that nobody really needs,
Gaily coloured wrappers to suit assorted greeds.
They've got the lot, that's what they want you to think,
Read between the lines, you'll see the missing link.
Buy this product, pay for the crap,
Quarter for the product, three quarters for the wrap.
Be a happy family, like the people on the pack,
Pay up to the profit, and you'll never look back.

Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well I've got it all up here, see?
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? When they think they've got it all out there, see?
They can fuck off, cos they ain't got me, they can't buy my dignity,
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Let me tell you, I've got it all up here?

Tried to get me with their learning and their books,
Deep understanding and intelligent looks,
All of the time, they never saw me,
They were just looking for what they wanted to see.
They've got the lot, that's what they want you to think,
Read between the lines, you'll see the missing link.
Books are easy backs for what they want to do to you,
Bind you up in slavery for the privileged few,
They'll prove their lies with history, say "that's the way it always was,
Accept the shit and slavery, be one of us."

Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well I've got it all up here, see?
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? When they think they've got it all out there, see?
They can fuck off, cos they ain't got me, they can't buy my dignity,
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Let me tell you, I've got it all up here?

Tried to get me with religion and with christ,
Said I'd get to heaven if I acted real nice,
But they were just preparing a crucifix for me,
A life of guilt, of sin, of pain, of holy misery.
They've got the lot, that's what they want you to think,
Read between the lines, you'll see the missing link.
The bible's just a blue print for their morality scene,
Just another load of shit on how it's never been.
They stand there in the pulpit, doling out their lies,
Offering forgiveness, then they talk of eyes for eyes.

Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well I've got it all up here, see?
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? When they think they've got it all out there, see?
They can fuck off, cos they ain't got me, they can't buy my dignity,
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Let me tell you, I've got it all up here?

Tried to get me, but I won't be got,
Say I'm a misfit but I say I'm not,
I never set out to profit from another,
Those smarmy bastards would steal from their mother.
They've got the lot, that's what they want you to think,
Read between the lines, you'll see the missing link.
They plundered and slaughtered in the name of truth,
Acceptance of normality is what they want from you as proof,
They think they've got the answers, but there's something that they miss,
Their cup which overfloweth, is JUST FULL UP OF PISS.

Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well I've got it all up here, see?
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? When they think they've got it all out there, see?
They can fuck off, cos they ain't got me, they can't buy my dignity,
Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Let me tell you, I've got it all up here, see?

chill.

it was a grey day.

cold.

i've gotten fantastic at distracting myself.

mulling over work/travel exchanges anywhere i've never been.

should be asleep.

should be dreaming.

should be peaceful.

should be easy.

i just cant shake it.

i shouldnt be here.

i shouldnt be so small.

why not just walk away from everything i never knew i never cared about and throw my thumb out?

no one ever showed me how to let go.

mass.

miss last halloween.

douchebaggery.

swing.

eerie when you can't remember the last time you felt safe. when things remained stable long enough for you to take a breath and look beyond surviving the day. imagine it must be nice, having happy days segue into happy weeks, not waiting for the bottom to fall out beneath you.

sometimes the most basic of needs are the hardest to fill. cracks turn into caverns; drops to puddles, to lakes, to oceans. these things creep up on you, the anxiety, the fear. the sadness that makes laughter hurt because you have farther to fall when moods and tensions lighten. there were days, not as distant as they should be, when the fear made life into a heads or tails game. things were black and white. you either wanted happiness or death.

and it was a relief.

to see things so plainly. shutting of the compulsion to analyze diamonds until they became dust.

rio.

things.

cycle.

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

guns.

on tuesday morning, a 19 year old math student walked to the sixth floor of the library i work at and shot himself in the head with an ak47.

this was not a virginia tech school shooting.

this was a (very public, very dramatic) suicide.

we should not be discussing gun control, we should not be discussing legalizing guns on campus, we SHOULD be discussing why the hell so many kids are choosing to off themselves instead of reaching out for help. we SHOULD be discussing why the internet has become a means of validation for our countries youth, and why the desire to be famous has trumped the desire to be alive. we SHOULD be discussing how a campus of 50,000 students can't get mental health support, despite an entire building seemingly devoted to health services.

we SHOULD be discussing why the media is calling this a school shooting, instead of acknowledging his obvious intention to only harm himself.

instead, we've been talking about guns.

guns, and how legal it is to tote them around, is so beside the point it makes me want to scream.

kids are killing themselves all over the place and no one has stopped for a second to ask WHY.

it's a widely known fact that college aged students that havent had any noted emotional problems can, and do, develop severe issues triggered by stressors they previously never had to cope with. many students are on thier own for the first time, some dont have friends on campus, some are leaving boyfriends, some have never had a beer. the sheer amount of freedom, and lack of supervision is exciting and overwhelming. the dichotomy of being around seas of people, yet knowing no one, is overwhelming as well. college can be a really hard adjustment for most teens.

so what, they kill themselves?

no, not all the time...but they do: binge drink, have unprotected sex, try drugs, develop eating disorders, isolate themselves, become over-anxious, depressed, i could go on and on. but honestly, that isnt anything new and many dismiss all that normal "coming of age" as just that, normal. and to a certain extent it is.

but what about when it isnt? what about the girl so worried about the freshman 15 that she spends her days at the gym excersizing into anorexia? or the dude so freaked out and alienated by the 300 people in his intro lit class he just stops going out because "no one will miss him anyway" and eventually cant leave his room?

what do they do? shoot themselves? or want to? and why dont they even know something's wrong and get help? how'd they even get so fucked up in the first place? does it even matter?

does anyone even give a shit or care to ask about what is really going on beyond the headline?

there is some sick shit in our culture, and kids arent coping well with it.

we SHOULD be discussing that.

bar.

in an effort to pull my head out of my ass, and be social/happy/normal(ish) i went to my bar. alone. while i was meeting friends there at ambiguous times, i had, believe it or not, ever been to that particular place alone.

awkward.

well, people came. i talked, i drank, i got some smiling in.

then i got bored.

then i looked around.

i saw a person i tried(ish) dating a month or two ago. met him at joe strummer's birthday party, but...we never got around to hanging out after that.

he tried.

i didnt.

he gave up.

well.

he was there with a girl. in a pretty party dress. with long hair. and no tattoos.

all of a sudden, my black tank, black leggings, black chucks seemed.....un-pretty. too tough. too "fuck off and die". i felt....odd. similar to how i used to feel when the object of my affections went for the cutesy preppy chick over me.

it's a bizarre dichotomy, being surrounded by people who think youre a badass and seeing someone who found it all too...much.

"too much" is my Achilles heel.

i am constantly, through out my entire life, "too ____(loud, talkative, sensitive, complicated, angry, abstract, dominant, needy, political...)". for me, the concept of being over the top, being beyond a palatable amount of one adjective or another, has been a consistent reminder of how hard it is to be around me. how im someone unworthy of time and attention because its too overwhelming to be around me, too much effort, too much...well, just too much.

i find it hard to separate myself, even now, from the sad teenage girl getting chosen second to the girl the boy really wished he was with. the one he could bring to mom, the one who could be "cleaned up".

i have a grit that no amount of designer body wash will scrub off, and sometimes i find that to be a difficult reality to face.