|
AussieAri's weblog
Edit this message to change the title of your weblog.
last modified Dec 22, 2001 at 22:31
Tradition is one of those few odd functions that will dain, and must often, to spit on the face and bite the hand that feeds it.
I knew the Ursuline skirt was a practice of uniform intended to make us all look and feel like little girls (most stupid uniform i ever doned. I never did respect it.) I never actually could saw how utterly silly it made us all look. I know none of the face wearing the skirts anymore, everyone i know has now graduated. Before it was always farmiliar individuals wearing the same uniform of a plastic like tent hanging off their lower half above the knee, not a swarm of young girls made to look like little girls. No more.
I'm not going back to Ursuline Academy unless extream circumstances call for it. There's no reason to.
Just Jeans.
Note: Take Caradwin's adivce. Try Joan of Arc costume next Halloween. Remember to babble about the grace of God and his words to you, also TALK to God out loud. Demand blessings and confessions from random people. Work on the French accent by keeping the tongue behind the lower teeth.
Did anyone else laugh their arse off when the third creature came out and leapt on the guard riding with a spear in the execution scene in Attack of the Clones?
BUHAHAHAHAR!! I don't know what came over me!
"Found a Job" -Talking Heads.
"It's amazing how someone can have a house dropped on them and survive."
Or not notice
I think i'll be blowing this concrete crap for Sterling in upstate New York. Renne says it is the most beautiful of the fairs. I'm certainly not about to run but i am leaving after a brief recoup, mend, cut and stock here.
I was invited to Bizzar Bizarre, the Monday morning buy, sell, swap, breakfast social at Scarborough Faire to engage in some wooden sword combat contest sponsored by the family (and my future employers at Sterling?) that run The Hollow Earth. I was the only woman that did not get eliminated, including the family's daughter, Maia- till the semi finals. Every hit was on my left arm as i'm not use to protecting it at all. The 360 degrees is new for me in sword fighting (I've got to switch the Johnny fencers onto this type of play!) but is far more exciting.
People asked me to spar with them afterwards for 4 hours and i got shown the basics of snake style and asked back for the next contest. Maine Gauche, cut and slash, rapier, broad sword, and dagger dagger. All in all an impressive and simply lovely day. The fact i can't rotate my right wrist is the only negative repercussion.
At Scarborough Fair i got mistaken for an Air force Lieutenant and asked if i was either a swimmer or a gymnast.
I met Daniel, the master sword smith of Angel Fire swords- the forge i want to work for, and the guy i want to apprentice under (he's taking apprentices again!). I got to go behind the counter and play with a foil, a cane foil, a rapier, a fantasy saber and pair of what they call Flying Foxes- a mix between the Chinese blades and a Klingon Battleth at about 26". They even pulled out the leather back rig for these blades for me and it looked as if i had metal wings spreading up from my back. Anyway, after much playing and a photo sessions with a guy who does this site for fun, i will be appearing at Babes with Blades. If you're laughing stop it- you won't be when you see some of the less corny posed for pictures. Ahem ahem.
I went to the second funeral at which i had anything to do with the deceased. You always hear about people looking on at strangers funerals but really- the wakes are far more interesting. There was no wake for the first funeral and i can say the notes struck were more discordant. This one i actually enjoyed myself. I don't think it's foolish or careless to say i enjoyed myself as i felt some peace not only in myself but with the interactions, and it was all certainly in memory of the deceased- or at least to help the living with their thoughts of the deceased.
Things are bound to be awkward for a while here- but bugger it, that can't stop me from going about living.
I'm far more willing to do Greek now it's not 9am 3 mornings a week with Mr. Rollins crooked smile and eunuch voice. I also get to show off this way...
WOW! The first printing of Naked Lunch, $50, Lonesome Traveller, $150, and the 2nd of Sometimes a Great Notion, $200!!!
I tried Dr. Pepper today that was from the Texas bottling plant and in Texas- just as i use to enjoy the sweet nectar. Unfortunately it tasted like soda water with dirt in it. I just can't drink anything carbonated anymore and enjoy it after Santa Fe.
The local library is closed on Thursday. *fffttt* no net access for me.
One of the few things i can enjoy fully about the city of Dallas is soft water. Ahh..
Laughing till
you piss out
at all the irony.
Slips are way to easy. I prefer unlacing and/or layers.
Valerie just attacked me with her purple shiney vibrator. That thing can't be fun.
I found myself sleeping in a pose like Hermaphroditus. Naught to hold on to, staring down in coy disbelief the long red tongue that rolls out lolling calling like a velvet mat before my bed.
I think (already) this will be a fairly introspective summer.
HA! Sue Ellen’s the lesbian dive may not be hiring bartender but i've figured out a crucial fact- they can not discriminate against you just because of your age if by state law you are old enough to legally fulfill the duties of the position (18 for bartending)...so then...even if they're 21 and up bars- they can turn me away as a customer but not as an applicant..YeaH!
Lately feeling lost. So why not do just that in this known city? Get lost. Match my physical state with my emotional. Who knows what i'll find then? Why fear it? Deep Ellum looks far more friendly before the sun goes down.
I should take a day and paint all the veins i see in my body.
Greek tragedies come in threes. Who's next then?
My cds are in Santa Fe as far as i know. I NEED music! The radio here is terrible! It's never been more painfully apparent how music assails and assists my life. Damn...
They checked through my carry on baggage, my pockets and waved a metal detector wand over me before i got on the Greyhound from Albequerque to Amarillo. Far less efficiently than the airport does now but mind. Yes- Don't it seem fit to drive this fucker right through Bush's home town capitol building? Pishaw. Well- there are still passanger lives to think off. What i'm saying is i'm just sick of all the alarmism over terrorism, having seen terorism in terror torn countries- things seem a little over inflated in reactionism here.
Our bus driver was a 100 pound less version of Wesley Willis without the chronic schitzophrenia. He layed down the laws of the bus ride humerously by bluntly reasoning and reminding us that we had other (however greatly undesirable) options and choices. My favorite quote of his- "Oh, Aand we got young men, old men, and those that think they men on this bus. When we get to Amarillo terminal please, please do NOT talk to any of those hoochie mama you see there. I guarente you, 8 out of 10 of those hoochie mama is actually hoochie daddy. Thank you, enjoy your trip."
Why haven't i been to Truth or Consequence, New Mexico? I have a feeling it would be a reconing in league of 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.'
Wonder where your bags when on the flight to Florida?
Real Food. And what choice, ho! Good Gods! I come home and bought a shit load of groceries! Good cheese! Chips! STEAK! Non-Hormoned Milk! Crisp fruit and Veggies with slick skins! So glorious is all this i only eat one large meal a day the rest of the while i snack away at it all.
Following an obscure Santa Fe Johnny tradition, I have found lately that if i have something inconvenient, but fairly inconsequential or can't be blamed on anything in particular- Gene Hackman has heard the brunt of it. "Fuck you Gene Hackman!" He is my Anti-daimon.
I remember when you'd hang up the phone and that was it- no second wait, no call back rings.
One of the only things i appreciate about Dallas in relation to Santa Fe is the soft water here. aaahhh...
Odd- I wonder if most people find any joy or purpose in writing themselves. No one is reading or with headphones and no here is writing but me.
I'd really like run my fingers through someone's hair right now. This desire prompted by the not at all attractive to me, Mexican lady who is speeking softly on a cell phone on this Greyhound. She has an eyebrow piecing that i can see as she sits curled up sideways in her window seat. She flips her long hair to one side of her face and the length fell over its own fullness behind her seat towards me.
Does anyone else have these random desires that don't nessecary nead fulfilling and by social standards are innapropriate to? They make me aware of my self-restraint and why i am constrained.
Sometimes i walk down the street, a most farmiliar community haunting grounds and fell like hugging and kissing the person that passes me. It is not a self defeating though- but certainly defeated most often. Part want to share jubilation, part want to be physically closer and open to anyone. By the transference of touch.
Clark, Dylon, Bret are all going to get fined for the state of their rooms- I feel somewhat responsible since i co-enhabited the place for a 1/4 of the year. But fuck, cClark said he'd take the fine, a max of $250. Dylon's room was moped by Tim when i moved in and he had every oppertunity to keep it clean but didn't. Bret, well, that's an entirely different story...
I leave Santa Fe and it begins to pitter patter slightly for the first time in ages. A little and a little too late.
Have you ever feared beauty in any of it's manifestations?
"Well, you loves her for a reason."
"Yes, I'm just not sure what that reason is now I'm not suppose to."
eshit eshit, my laptop ies fucking up andx it'es lates out of thes dxorm room andx i'm going to haves to takes a 19hour grayhoudx to dxallaes bescaues resgan fuckesdx up on hesr packing loadx. ggrrrr. ri ies not happy. 19 houres of miesesesry.
Guys just don't know what to do with eggs. They take the longest time cooking them in line when it's self serve for breakfast.
To throw the shity recliner off the highest balcony in uppers, Kirby (and clean up the bits to take to the dumpster), or not to (and take it right to the dumpster)?
Well...if Grae is helping me i may as well. I've not greatly destroyed anything this year.
Today everyone frantically packed. This will go on throughout the night. This place is absolutely fucking filthy. Glass pieces, boxes, plastic glitter everywhere. The summer and maintenance must clean and clear the place but right now it seems like we'd need a bloody MONSOON.
Piles around campus of 'free shit' can be found. I scored a fridge (!!!) that is up to my hip, runs perfectly, and doesn't stink and the gray hooded sweatshirt with a front zipper and St. John's logo just like I've always wanted! I also got to eat sushi- California rolls that were hand made by Stella. They were good but the seaweed was a bit sticky and tacky so that when I tried to swallow only half of the roll went down my throat so I ended up coughing half of this sushi role up twice. I'm too tired to make a big production of the half choking/blocking of windpipe because of all the damn packing i've done today so I gave an odd wet hack. It was like getting to eat twice as many sushi pieces as I actually did.
"You have a very efficient cough." - Mirabai
p.s. Those square hats graduating people wear make excellent Frisbees.
I'm drinking a bottle of 'Rose Water'. At least, that's what the only english besides the nutrition label says. It tastes like light white roses were used..and the smell of the water is alot musky/dusty than the actual taste. It was left over and unopened from the Jones dorm people moving out. I know this is not the safest thing to be doing especially since the rest of the labling appears to be in an arabic language..
To take home all my 250+ cds in two large cd soft cases or not?
I can recall in high school how I use to make friends. I'd act up oddly around them, I'd prod them and poke them with prickly philosophical question, attempting to ascertain their willingness to communicate in an intellectual way and to put up with all my damn questions. I was desperate for people i could talk too and matter too.
How do I make friends now? Well it seems I fall in Eros. And as a result often I just don't know what to say after the initial random met and greet. I stand there looking pretty, listening.
'What else about yourself?'
I'm a poet, I like ties, I love women, and my life. What more can I convince you off this way in brief spurts of interaction? If I do get to spend time with the person more than passing in a public place hopefully, or perhaps by writing, we (have) will come to know one another.
What more was there for me to do after graduation on the steps in my 3 piece pin strip suit but to look from afar, not take a picture, and say a silent goodbye to the winds of fortune that blow here then head for a southern summer.
I met Mirabai's parents yesterday. You've probably
heard this often Mir-Mir but they are cute. I got a
big bow and salute from Mirabai's Dad; apparently i
have a reputation to uphold. *Groans huffs and
shrugs her Atlas shoulders*
Hey- is big gay Neil type person coming to
graduation here? I do not sence his presence in the
force on campus.
Elaidia called me! !@#$%~!! *inexplicable joy* Hot Spring time!
end of the semester...people are trickling away.
The main talk is of who is going and who will stay.
I decided to begin a list, of Lazarus, not of the
Dead, the names of those who will not be here next
year.
Just because you are emotional it doesn't mean deep down you are affected or truly care.
Mr. Scally's daughter is hot! I pity the inlaw...
I must laugh or else i (in the entity) will die.
No more. none. nothing. done. I'm a Sophomore!
It seems that only guys have liked my video collection. I buy cds instead of videos because i can re-create the movie in my mind far more easily than with a cd..and with a cd i can pick selections, mix and match. I don't like watching only parts of movies like that. Anyway, my meager collections is:
Run Lola Run (Did anyone else notice the copy of 'Paradise Lost' in the Phonebooth?)
Little Witches (the worst catholic school girl whore movie EVER)
Ren and Stimpy's On Duty (Canadiaaaann Killltttedd Yakkkkssmmmeeenn!)
Monty Python's The Meaning of Life (*blarf!*)
American Beauty
Bound (so i have a thing for Gina Gershon...)
Cirque du Soleil Quidam (I didn't actually buy this for myself but oy do i love Chinese Post and Body support stunts)
Mad Max- Beyond Thunderdome (This has some great chainmaile in it!)
A Video Yesteryear of surealist films including Dali's Un Chien Andulou (from the Dali Meseum in St. Petersburg)
Pussy Control- Prince
Pussy- Lords of Acid
Selections from Cats the musical
Pussy Power- Iggy Pop
Pussy Planet- Gwar
My friend Footfoot- The Shags
Cleopatra's Cat- Spin Doctors
Cat Blues- Cowboy BeBop
Cat Killer- Steppenwolf
Cat Scratch Fever- Ted Nugent
Pussy Whipped- System of a down
Something by Tokyo Ghetto Pussy
Can your pussy do the dog- The Cramps
Pussy Manifesto- Bitch and Animal
Pussy Whipped- Bikini Kill
Pop that Pussy- Wesley Willis
Pussy Dread- Lippy Lou
We are Siamese- Disney
Smelly Cat- Friends
Cat Turned Blue- Rusted Root
Meow Mix Commercial
The cat came back- Trout Fishing in America
Phenomenal Cat- The Kinks
Cat in ass- Mallrats
Cat in the Kettle- Dr Demento
Cat Food- King Crimson
William Shakespeare?s in my cat- Arrogant Worms
The Cat is High- Manhattan Transfer
Green Eyed Cat- Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Everyone Wants to be a cat- Aristocats
Cat in Heat- Ellen DeGeneres
Cat- Sugarcubes
Temple of the Cat- Ayreon
Eek the Cat theme
Kitty- Presidents of the U.S.A.
No Kitty this is my pot pie- Southpark
Kitty- The Pogues
Fuck Kitty- The Frumpies
Gritty Kitty- Ren & Stimpy
No we don't naw on our kitty- Austin Powers
Any other suggestions? I haven't had a chance to
actually listen to some of these songs, smit on
the school for blocking Audio Galaxy. SmitSmitSmit.
Bloody hell! They're smoking pot upstairs and it's filtering into my room! BLARG!
I finnaly went out and listened to the pathetic
people that are Greg's favorite band,
Anal Cunt. Sad sad sad.
Maybe i should add some colour around this blog...
"Ok.. now for my final comment of the year to
Aramark. Name: Ian. Date: 5-15. Meal: All Meals.
Comment: Your lack of fiber has given me a hemeroid.
How do you spell hemeroid?"
When meeting a cat for the first time, one should
properly introduce oneself by kneeling and offering
a hand to be taken.
Am I cut out to be a writer? I do love thee so..
This is what I spend my life doing at heart. Exploring
things and creating fabrications- all as parts
of a process of attempting to understand.
Sometimes, someone else will spend the money
they earned (by spending the time of life working
at something in turn) on the things I come up with.
Often you can't give the word "understand" any
other qualification, because you don't know what
it is about- if you are in the act of trying to
understand, how can you say what the things is?
My memories are the one things I miserly clutch to
myself. Hoarded in my breast- no one would care to
hear about a day I spent up a huge dead eucalyptus
tree trunk overlooking the dog kennels on my Aunt's
farm in Australia during winter as the wind
threatened to blow my 8 year old body away. There
was a soft dry cold Australian coastal dirt smell.
Who cares? I do. I could have remembered the
sounds that day, the dogs below me or the other
animals that were in the nearest paddock or even
in the same tree. I could have remembered the
dinner I must have eaten that night after the sun
set and I walked back to the farm house, but these
are not part of THAT memory, or part of my memories
anymore. Memory colors the past differently than
it actually was, so does forgetting. That is why
they are all my memories, a preservation in certain
terms of happenings, an extensions of my life, all
mine that mean nothing. And now what is my memory?
This new room I've made a lonely home- cool and
soft, slight sun through the venetian of the west
window, familiar with it's organized clutters,
silent mostly but for Nedezda in the room above me
moving her chair across the linoleum. All this
calmness of feeling nothing else but how this
moment seems and no one to share it with.
My memory is therapy but sometimes a cage or
escape. I can't really remember as clearly as
experience but I can't erase memory either. That
is the nature of my memory. Bless me, curse me, I
sneeze and I swear. Should I allow myself these
luxuries of vaulting off into my own thought? How
else do you make sense of time but by a measure
of some motion? The motion of my mental exasperations
traces how I am fated to interpret and (what I)
actually see. Even this is an exploration into a
conundrum the caverns of memories, something that
demanded writing and the taking or use of my time. Are you following me?
How torturous would it be to have your life colored
by another's memory? You're dinning at Denny's and
accidentally you spill ketchup on your blue jeans
and suddenly this sight of red on blue reminds you
of a trauma of trying to save a bleeding cat that
had been hung by the neck. The original image of
denim splattered and smeared in a bright watery
blood, little black hairs everywhere. You don't
like cats and you've never saved or even seen this
particular cat but suddenly you are made to give
a damn.
Maybe they are pleasant memories, but you know you
shouldn't know so well how someone you have never
met looks naked in the noon light of Paris. What if
they are only partial memories or ones that haven't
happened yet but you know them as memories- not
foresight or recurring (day)dreams? Or what if
it's one form of memory that evokes no others and
has no context? The taste of turpentine dirtied
with cadmium oil paint. Do you start to believe
these things? Do you try to place them in a
context or separate them from your own memories?
Can they do anything besides confuse you? Do they
interrupt and change the way you live your life,
the way you interact with people? Do you ever
try to make yourself forget because otherwise you
would go insane?
Have you ever relinquishing memories to vapid space
by not remembering because it would be better for
you? Should someone? It doesn't seem like one can
assume that much power over memories. I never
have, and I refuse. A loss of something human won't
get you any closer to divinity. I'd rather swallow
down these memories with a hungry acceptance into
myself. You have memories, you may even say you
own them but like land- you don't have a totally
real claim or stake in them. They carry on their
own existence and living, if anything you are the
custodian and a vessel.
I once unknowingly mixed up dream with memory and
gave voice to the blurred figment when I was in
kindergarten. The results had a disastrous effects
at the time. I've not done it since, and I know
the difference now. That's the only power I have
over my memory other than having many, distinctions
by comparison.
Martial arts should not promote in someone the level
of confidence that they believe allows them to be
arseholes to anyone they please. Those that do are
bastardized forms that don't work with your whole
self as they should.
I am blunt and usually speak as closely as I can to what I think.
I'm sensitive to other's opinion and feelings most of the time,
I care.
That is why I have backed down or off to avoid a big conflict that could have caused
unnessescary
pain at the time.
No one I know of has had a problem with me for years.
If I don't enjoy another person or can't reason with them or just get a bad vibe,
I don't seek out their company but when around them I am certainly as civil as possible.
I was most tender with my girlfriends-
by giving them the benefit of my belief,
to even letting their disposition affect or sometimes decide my actions...
And perhaps because of that it was that most deceitful sort of interaction for both of us?
I think I know why those two Johnnys got a divorce
over their disagreements about Plato and Aristotle.
It had to have been deeper issues that related
prevalently, perhaps it was their very approach to
life and how they function manifest in two icon
philosophers so related in their life, works, and
time, but often opposed.
"When my wife comes home and starts to talk, I have
to ask her if she wants a solution from my
response or if she just wants to talk [to feel a
comfort by that]." - Maia's dad
There's a bar in Denton called Mable Peabody's Beauty Shoppe
and Chainsaw Repair. Wow.
For the first time at El Ferol where Maia works I
was a customer on the other side of the bar. I had a Windex,
a Brandy Alexander, a Sex on the Beach and a
Bombay Sapphire martini up dirty vermouth left in
onion olive onion garnish. I didn't want to order
anything too wild and i didn't complain when the
bartender fubared on the brandy Alexander and the
sex on the beach as i was an under age drinker.
Things to try next: Leather Goddess, Screaming
Orgasm, Stimulating Penetrater.
Greg had an epileptic fit in the bathroom. He
knocked a sink off the wall with his HEAD. This is
all very sad- especially since he didn't get to
participate in the sundress competition last night.
I feel a repugnancy towards the serious teaching or
writings about poetry by people who are NOT poets.
Things get manhandled or explained away, there is
little if any inspiration. I know while other hate
poems about poetry, that is how i begin to write
poems again. It must be as useful as philosophers
questioning philosophy's validity.
Is Platonic method (or one of them Plato used) the
getting of another to make or repeat verbally
their stupid opinions, ill formed beliefs, or
method of speaking/comprehending? Basically get
ting them to make a mistake, then show them the
embarrassment of this error so they hopefully
try to not be ignorant in the same fashion again
so as not to suffer the same embarrassment again?
It's a lot easier to just bluntly call into
question someone's opinions or actions. But will
they be so illuminated and apt to change that
if you apply this routine instead? I suppose
I expect a direct effect of reason to be in play,
for people's own bloody good.
I now know why he (not Plato) had no moral qualms
with fucking over people use to being stupid sexually
or mentally by first gaining their trust.
Don't love me if you have contained your love. Only
if you are driven and impassioned by it and if you
have no other choice.
Cockamamie, poppycock, shuttle cock, coxswain,
cockadooddledoo, cockabuny , cockaign, cockahoop,
cockaleekie, cockalorum, Cock and Bull, Cockateil,
Cockatoo, Cockatrice, Cockbill, Cockbrain,
Cockchafer, Cocked, Cocker, Cockerel, Cockeye,
Cocklaird, Cockle, Cockmaster, Cocktail, Cockpit,
Cockshoot, Coxcomb.
I am tan for the first time ever.
So very beaten and soar, i can't even do pushups. Mostly happy at
heart though but tired, restless in the depths. I got more injuries in the
mud pit than in the madball scraps but madball was far more tiering. Being
a girl all you have to do is shove those who say 'Sorry' to you, wiggle,
fling, yell and swear, and go for the death grips (remember to keep the
thumb on top with your fingers so as not to get it ripped away or have a
weaker grip). It's not so much about weight but strength! I may have been
at the bottom of two heaps and got the ball twice, but i didn't get to run
with the ball, punch, or flying tackle anyone. I was frightened before it
began because i didn't fancy the beating of a boxing match again. We who
pped arse though! 3-0! Whatever it may be, group frenzies and crazy
seem far more enjoyable than one on one's for violence.
I also got to throw a javelin again.
It's the only track event i had any chance of being good at. I shall have
to experiment by wrapping a leather thong about the middle of the jav as the
Greeks did to help it sail.
I may love women, but I love pleasing women just as much-
(how)ever i can, with that which is in my power. Not to mean in
only one way, through false actions, or one sided.
..these muses 9 walk the campus of clouds- Lucia, Mirabai, Mary
Eliot, Jean, Emma, Elaidia, Sally, Anastasia, Margarita. (Not to
mention all the daimons or Klingons!)
In honor of my LAST Greek class of the semester, the longest ancient
Greek word i could find: sphragidonychargokometes.
In honor of my lab assistant possition next year, the longest chemical
name I could find, of the protein part of the tobacco mosaic virus
(C785H1220N212O248S2): methionylglutaminylarginyltyrosylglutamylserylleucylphenylalanylalanylglutaminylleucyllysylglutamylarginyllysylglutamylglycylalanylphenylalanylvalylprolylphenylalanylyalylthreonylleucylglycylaspartylprolylglycylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylserylleucyllysylisoleucylaspartylthreonylleucylisoleucylglutamylalanylglycylalanylaspartylalanylleucylglutamylleucylglycylisoleucylprolylphenylalanylserylaspartylprolylleucylalanylaspartylglycylprolylthreonylisoleucylglutaminylasparaginylalanylthreonylleucylarginylalanylphenylalanylalanylalanylglycylvalylthreonylprolylalanylglutaminylcysteinylphenylalanylglutamylmethionylleucyalanylleucylisoleucylarginylglutaminyllysylhistidylprolylthreonylisoleucylprolylisoleucylglycylleucylleucylmethionyltyrosylalanylasparaginylleucylvalylphenylalanylasparaginyllysylglycylisoleucylaspartylglutamylphenylalanyltyrosylalanylglutaminylcysteinylglutamyllysylvalylglycylvalylaspartylserylvalylleucylvalylalanylaspartylvalylprolylvalylglutaminylglutamylserylalanylprolylphenylalanylarginylglutaminylalanylalanylleucylarginylhistidylasparaginylvalylalanylprolylisoleucylphenylalanylisoleucylcysteinylprolylprolylaspartylalanylaspartylaspartylaspartylleucylleucylarginylglutaminylisoleucylalanylseryltyrosylglycylarginylglycyltyrosylthreonyltyrosylleucylleucylserylarginylalanylglycylvalylthreonylglycylalanylglutamylasparaginylarginylalanylalanylleucylprolylleucylasparaginylhistidylleucylvalylalanyllysylleucyllysylglutamyltyrosylasparaginylalanylalanylprolylprolylleucylglutaminylglycylphenylalanylglycylisoleucylserylalanylprolylaspartylglutaminylvalyllysylalanylalanylisoleucylaspartylalanylglycylalanylalanylglycylalanylisoleucylserylglycylserylalanylisoleucylvalyllysylisoleucylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylhistidylasparaginylisoleucylglutamylprolylglutamyllysylmethionylleucylalanylalanylleucyllysylvalylphenylalanylvalylglutaminylprolylmethionyllysylalanylalanylthreonylarginylserine
- 1,913 letters, under chem. in Mrs Byrne's Dict.
I hate calling my grandmother... i don't hate her at all but the
communication kills me. After a quick check on my life and 'yeah's
of disapointment i always hear about my wonderful cousin Betsy.
Gag. I don't think she knows how or for what to be proud of me.
And NO, i still don't have a boyfriend...
Saddle Bag Guards, Sissy bar, Mini back rack, Removable windshield, Highway Pegs with shift/break attached, Engine guard/crash bar, Sissy bar pouch, Large saddle bags, Driver's Backrest, Slash Cut Exhaust, Pocket tank panel, Jeans, Helmet, Gloves, Boots.
Yeah! I'm so dirty! Nicola and I were the first in the pit. You have
absolutely no traction so i couldn't use some of the Jiu Jitsu moves
to actually get a person down. I ended up ripping her shirt off
though. The winner was decided by vote of the crowd. Nicola won-
but that may have something to do with the toplessness.
I also got to be the ring girl for "The Beast from the East" at the
death match and get a kiss from his previous ring girl. I stood on
stage and spoke for him in a monotone, "Lippit, when you took my
bike, when you took my girl, i could stand that. But when you took
my beer, i took it personaly. I'm going to rip out your fucking heart
and send it to your mother..."
Donkey go he-haw
Sleep with your boots on
Two bottles of wine.
I always wanted a real Mid Summer Night's Dream.
*giggles uncontrollably* There's an ASSES head on the Weigle Hall Bell tower!! BUUHAHAHAHA! It's eyes glow RED!
In other news- I've discovered poking people is definitely a worthy pastime.
According to Tim, all it takes to get laid (or even begin any relationship) is force of will. Now this could be forcing your will on someone, or it could be a coincidence of wills. Let's just call it all wants and needs, though this is simplifying greatly. In senses of sexual desire and friendship there's a stock of wanting and needing at least. Time spent pinning, thinking, coordinating and preparing for that meeting or just plain looking for someone to be intimate with. Who ever said friendship came by ease, even if it has a graceful way? Have you ever had a relationship so easily drop into your lap and fit itself in place in your heart?
There's something being reserved inside me through, maybe it's killing me slightly that way or it's helping to not have my expectations ruined of humanity. This reservations is that it usually takes such a while for me to let out all of myself to someone, or to feel comfortable in a new place. To trust someone enough to let them know and care for your fragile parts. I have mostly kept my memories, those things which may have been fleeting but not less real and important, to myself.
I've played aloof, suave or dumb intermittently many times to people who either didn't give a damn or weren't about to look at me at more than face value. It's fairly easy to be the fool and at times it's just been plain convenient for me. Then again, maybe I actually want the fleeting intimacy of getting laid to carry me over a rut I feel I'm in, or to expound the truth of my new freedom (as childish as it is) to get fucked-fucked up-and yell fuck you! in the same breath, rather than old friendships I've relied on previously. Talk has solved not anything yet. I haven't found any solace besides exercising like crazy, sleep, martinis, and communing with nature (most of this is all good for my physical health and somewhat mental/spiritual). I have been trying to talk/met other people but why should they be MY solace? It's not like I am ignored or particularly alone around here, but I do feel a futility and an isolation I don't remember choosing. I feel the same way I felt at the beginning of the school year.
I dream of Bacchanals. Glorious, spontaneous- the likes I do not see. Like something you come upon abruptly. Instead of smelling wine on everyone you smell a feeling of a fever. The drunkenness of existence is in the air. Without a thought of inhibition- squelching enjoyment from grapes. Are you willing to go mad for the Gods? Infected afflicted lifted. Grab the spiral's tail. It is something of the glands, in the blood like DNA it snakes. Wine is only a lubricant to this slide of reason. How else can you make this happen? Queery feeling peculiar. How else can you hope to make this happen? Oh do not look for it. Ill ease would follow. Damn the consequences- will you ever remember it in the morning light? Heavy headed. Now light footed, off headed to revelries. Will any wonder be left with you? Or will you be foggy with a hanging over shadow of the mysteries. Carpe Noctem! Contagious indiscriminate like the mad breeze of the south. Everyone dancing dancing crazy. See yourself before you. No one person you can distinguish. All relative all related to. A Beast! Join us! Revelations! Called Exaltations! Don't translate- no myth. Do not speak words, yell and scream instead. Call to them. Do you acknowledge this? You do not bring down the gods. The vale parted is close to murderous grave of non-existance. Twist twist the movement divination imagine the reality. You can't keep these multitudes from hoarding in the city. Distinctions no longer matters. Matter of the mind is melted stained. Go from form to form a fluidity, do not make the wine drunk, drink this madness. It finds shapes in you. This is never about peace only pieces. Making sick sick sick. Be cure by looking up and away refocus recognize you are bewildered but not frightened. I can write my Bacchanal but can I ever have it? Turn out the lights. Whatever you do, don't look down.
Things to investigate: Dancing Mania, Purital 'Witches' affected by Ergotism, Black Death and plagues in relation to these, The Pied Piper, France's Southern Breeze, The Tarantella.
COOL! The plastic face plate of my phone comes completely off! ooo...wires...
If you could fill a swimming pool with anything(besides jello, water and spaghetti), what would it be?
Gold flakes?
Almonds?
salmon roe?
Vegemite?
Galium?
Mercury?
Wow. I've had a life long grudge match against Stupidity.
1) Notice someone who doesn't mind your oddity or having you play a joke on them.
2) Pretend to not notice them till they are fairly close; continue doing what you were doing.
3) Look up at them and register horror.
4) Scream and run like hell in the other direction.
Scott and I read waiting for the cafateria to open. He began to thump his large broad back against the wall. Whump Whump. Exactly like a gorilla does when bored.
"Came down from my
ivory tower
And found no world"
-Jack Kerouac
Many seems sick or crying
-
Beauty itself kills in dying.
-Man, the waves are way to huge to surf today.
-Damn. I am tan, ripped, and endowed like everyone else. Why can't i be an individual?
-My long lush black hair always gets tangled and damaged by the salt water!
-Man, i can only score with two girls a night!
-Everyone clapped when my hula skirt came down. I feel so objectified.
-I can not work on my pasty intellectual look out here!
-I can't find a garage to live in and make moody rock. I have to lie on the sand and look at the stars all night. I can't work under these conditions...
Be glad i didn't decide to write out the other drunken piece we came up with, "Every skinney white guy in the world wants me- They all quote 'Chasing Amy'"...
i always liked these Aspirin Cufflinks in silver.
I went looking for ‘Naked Lunch’ pictures and found this. Yeehaw! *wiggles nose and smirks*
I wonder if you can still eat a japanese meal off of a naked model in Tokyo or if it violates several health regulations.
The '86
The '87
The '96
The '97
the other '97
The '98’s en france
The '99
The '00
The '01
And mine to be…
Oh, and a freak with far to many cylinders.
Tricks of the trade for REALITY.
They've begin to spell out "REALITY" over the student center using verious material for each letter. I guess it's a count down of sorts. They're up to A, made of blue polka dot painted flat board.
mmmm... chai.
I had my don rag. The tutors were all dead on. I told them so and they were pleased to hear it. It means they're doing their job as much as anything- especially since what is said has to do with my academic abilities and the shared process the has been engaged in an environment supervised by them. What more do they have to go on? What more could i ask them for?
Of course, there's much more than that. Like the 'thank you's at the end, and of course the smiles.
Small wild yellow roses blooming by the dozen on the grassy knoll. Sweet polen from every direction the wind blows. Complete with the trimmings of the largest tree propped up against a smaller tree to create a cool shady and soft cubbyhole.
maybe i should hold interviews or tryouts.
I got to play with eppie's ferrets. Such beautiful fun creatures to keep you on your toes. I'm sure i'll have one in my life sometime.
Ho ha! this is what we're digging into.
A smile and a wave just ain't gonna cut it girl!
I'm in for female armwrestling at the Junior Block party tomorrow! Woo!
Nicola and Regan made me a CD to cheer me up :o)
Oh lordy, they're watching the recording of the poetry slam in the CAO, i can see it through the glass of the puter lab.
Le fee vert rendezvous!
You could probably teach men anything beside that which contradicts what you consider makes them 'men'.
Oh, god damnit! i just realized as i woke from my dream about Ptolemy's circles of motion being applied to fencing binds and transfers that i'm going to miss so many people from here this summer...
I love Greek Tragedy.
Their use of language just makes my breath quicken and my insides stir around. I hope we translate a tragedian next year, waHo!
I despise Theseus though.
Understandable enough, eh?
The school nurse's answer to every ailment is to prescribe some form of codeine. Now- is this some sort of inference as to the medical wants, views and uses of the populace here? People do sometimes sell their prescriptions, and/or like to get fucked up on said prescriptions, BUT this doesn't mean the rest of us just wish to be put out of our misery till the physical illness passes. Whatever ever happened to antibiotics or back rubs? *sigh*
Euclid 2:11 or 1:1 diagram on outer right abbs, inside of the hip, equivilancies on left outer abbs.
Black cat head outlines in deep red (undecided where to put it, shoulder blade or between them?)
Black hints of blue and red tribal tattoo (Ari's own design) around left arm, between shoulder and bicep, 'quarter sleeve' with a gap left in the design.
Small flaming spiral about freckle on left palm, in from thumb
Another tribal design (by Ari) about wrist, pointing to middle knuckle.
In the end I may never get a tattoo, or only one.
Your liberal arts school crammed with smoky intellectuals has entered into offence and distaste to those who are trying to do something (perhaps even impossible) about situations at large!
I'm not part of Amnesty itself, and it has been a while since I wrote a letter to any government type person, or signed a petition, or even marched for anything. I usually find marches too unruly a representation. Like Marx though, I admire them for at least proposing a solution rather than gripping, being petrified into silence, or just a bitter continuous laughter.
On the ground they had written in chalk quotes about peace, and last night someone came and added commentary where appropriate as well as beautiful 'peaceful' math equations. I liked seeing that as a juxtaposition.
Tim was complaining about the noise of that song by John Lennon "Imagine all the people." that was being played by Amnesty over the fishpond. Now.. I really detest that bloody song, it's trite crap, and in fact, I don't care much for Lennon (don't stone me!). So..in place of noise or silence, enter the dialogue Tim and I had. Though not conclusive or terribly understanding, it was better than either of the alternatives.
YES! Black t-shirts with "EUCLID 3:16" on the front and the full greek text of the prop on the back including the diagram!
my calves feel like steel hydrolicized devices implanted on the back of my leg. ech.
The maypole was a sucess as far as having enough people to do it went and enjoying the simple bit of fun. It's as much as i expected this first year of reinstating the tradition after 15 years of oblivion. I wouldn't have been able to pull it off in the condition i'm in if Erin, Ian and Bill hadn't helped out, lugging the pole and wheelbarrow up to the meadow. People do care about me. Bill dug the hole and when the pole got erected he decided to concecrate it. We didn't have any blood (as the aboriginies do), but he did need to take a leek. So...It is hard to desecrate a pagan symbol but i'm sure it's all in the intent. No worries. Funny boy. We left the pole up there...i figuer it should dry out a while at very least.
Next year I'll know better, more ribbons, longer etc...more polity money and maybe a time when alot of people aren't in class. Though many people associate alcohol with HOW they socialize at a party.. i'll be catering to much of the johnny tastes, with some homemade mead to drink.
In the end, i have $15 worth of soda and cookie in my room, paid for alla Polity. thankew, thankew..
enter exhaustion, exit the Ari
(more to come later)
People who think they're ninjas.
God Forsaken Productions.
| 
