Letters from the Freak Show

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 12:15:50 GMT

I figured since I talked about it so much, I should probably post what exactly, I've been doing...

A lot of it is really different from all the other stuff I've done...the busy...

I'm not so proud of the design, the design itself is kinda cliche. The reason I'm proud is that I did this entirely freehand...

Alright, I'm done, I'm going to bed. Good night

Double cross the vacant and bored.

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 10:49:33 GMT

My creativity has come on like an orgasm. It's crawled under my skin like a finger touching nerves that have been so long neglected. It's come on in Sharpie and newspaper on the walls, in my guitar finding a new place to sleep every day that I go to work, it's come on in my brand new bar that was never quite brand new to begin with, the canvases that now accompany my mural, silhouettes in acrylic across the walls, the murals in paint, the murals in contact paper.

It's come on in new poems and new lyrics and new choruses and has slipped under every facet of my life from the latte art and monogrammed macchiatos to driving with the windows down and the radio on full blast, my harmonies only working sometimes to coming home to my canvases...it's even come alive in my make-up, weirdly colorful and pretty inspired.

Part of me wonders if this spur of creativity is just brought on by my brain trying to compensate for the sudden loss of...well, company. TB has left again in the attempts to prepare for another deployment which leaves me bored at two AM, not to mention that this time change has gotten me all internally fucked up with no one to talk to because it's actually five AM at home and even the insane and "insomniatic" are trying to sleep.

I've lost a lot in the past few months. TB would say it's no huge loss, looking at the grand scheme of things, I'm hard pressed to agree with him... but there's that part of me that wonders if company, even bad company worth my own ideas. It's kinda left everyone wandering around these labyrinths of lies and deceptions and motives...

I lost a few good friends over some really stupid things and some really stupid decisions. I've also lot of respect for a lot of people that I held in pretty high esteem (funny thing, the people to whom I gave no credit have really stood up to the occasion).

I'm so tired of this shit...but I kinda came to the realization that the reason shit like this keeps happening is because I let it. I just can't care that much anymore.

In any respect, it's left me feeling pretty stupid and decieved and even though it seems to have died down. The only thing that I've really gained from any of this is having no one to talk to at midnight. It's a blessing and a curse.

I guess...

Heh.

This manic episode has left me completely lost in time. I lose track of what I have and what I need. I forget to eat sometimes, I haven't been able to go grocery shopping at all since TB left, I finally stopped at Safeway and bought some granola and yogurt and stopped by to see Troy and Dwayne.

"You look so much happier, girl. Not like I ever saw you here. You look good, you lost weight."

I guess I can agree with them, more often I have less to complain about, my conversations die down to the good things that happen...oddly enough, no one wants to hear about that. Funny ol world, huh? Still I'm weary with no rest, ideas and thoughts and inspirations worming into my soul, leaving their mark on my walls like ring worm. And it suits me. So, stress induced weight loss isn't the best thing but, at least it's weight loss.

I'm drinking with Tasha in town on Saturday. A night full of weird, garbled slang from all four corners of the world.

"Holla! Holla!"

I kinda wanna keep it low key but Tasha doesn't do that...Maybe I'll take a bottle of Champagne and a bottle of Orange Juice and see if The Star (more about her later) wants to drink on the beach. It's been warm enough at night that we could pass out on the beach...who knows??

I guess all in all, things are pretty good. Not nearly as bad as they sound.

I met a man who calls himself Friday. A ridiculously rich, eccentric man who bought me a drink and complimented my smile.

"You have a wonderful smile. That's a genuine smile, dear. You can't hide something like that. You're in love aren't you?"

I told him yes and that he didn't know how in love I was.

"He's a lucky man."

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't a man but I finished his drink and he winked at me and when on his way.

He seems genuinely happy...it made me wonder how he got that way. Looking at all these people my age who are stressed over money, over friends, over love. It made me wonder what sort of secret did this retired older man have over us???

Maybe that he doesn't worry about this kinda stuff. It reminded me of my dad.

"Princess, life is too short to sweat the small stuff."

Guess you were right all along, old man.

...I need to call my dad...

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 20:06:15 GMT

It's amazing...for the first time since I moved out here...

I can smell the ocean.

It makes me homesick but no one's available..

Friday Afternoon Boredom

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 08:12:07 GMT

Or...

Reason #4833879847594385a why Amber should never dye her hair black ever again.

I got bored today. After two weeks of playing hard and working hard I finally had the afternoon off. Add to the fact that I can't stay still for longer than 30 seconds and that TB stole my car while his was in the shop (but that's a whole different drama in and of it's own)...

...I was really bored.

And what does Amber do when she gets incredibly bored?

Amber makes pretty!!!

This was attempt number 3 at getting my hair to go from something like this:

To something a little closer to my natural auburn.

I was so bored, in fact, that I took pictures!

This was the color that my hair was supposed to turn...

I tried to stay realistic...y'know, not get too excited...obviously

Oh and no, that is not a sex swing in the background. It's a pull up bar. I swear!

Gotta get all the gear, including the cell phone...knowing my luck...

Ready and saturated for the next step.

Saran Wrap!!!

It keeps my brain fresh.

Only 38 minutes to go.

Shampoo and rag to get all the dye off my ear. Lest it looks like I got into a fight with a feral cat.

A little irritated at my wet hair. It still looks black...

So sad...

Stupid hair dye.

Oh well...maybe next time...

In other news, my husband's passed out on the floor. He's not drunk. Just a loser...

I feel sorry for him. At the same time...I'm surprisingly irritated...so much for our night together...

Part of me almost wants to draw on him...but the fear that he'll wake up earlier than me and return the favor and well, I have to go to work tomorrow...

Thu, 14 Feb 2008 10:00:59 GMT

I'm not a bitch...I'm just assertive...right? Right??

I had other deep thoughts on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and stupid shit happens in the name of third tiers.

But I seem to be feeling a little more self centered than all of that tonight.

I'm having moral quandaries with seeking this promotion. Unfortunately, my friends, selling out and money talks.

Not to mention to power to actually do something good with myself and get paid well while doing it.

Heh, funny ol world, in'nt?

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 16:36:52 GMT

I woke up three hours before I have to leave for work by accident. I didn't realize how much time an extra hour and a half can be...

TB woke me up when he left, I figured it would be the most secure way to wake up. But there's been a series of thoughts keeping me up.

(("RON PAUL IS A LEAD DEFENDER OF LIFE! ...PROTECTING OUR FREEDOM OF LIFE!" ...what a joke...))

One is that my ADD is getting worse. My thoughts are becoming more and more scattered and it's getting harder and harder to concentrate. I wonder if maybe it's this diet I'm on or maybe an actual change in my hormonal makeup. I'm waiting to see how I do at Nordstrom before I take any big steps but it's really making me feel stupid.

The other was a realization I had a few days later which spawned a strange series of thoughts, hopes, dreams and fears.

Are you ready for it?

My husband is in charge of people...

Not just people, but Marines.

Not just Marines but grunts.

Ooh, scary. The guy who still laughs hysterically at shows like Robot Chicken and Metalocolypse-- the guy who has absolutely no concept of putting garbage bags in the garbage can (the keys go in the key bowl) is in charge of people.

It's not like they're asking him to make strategic decisions or anything like that but, it still hit me the other night when we were driving. People kept calling him and asking him what they were supposed to do.

And he was actually directing him...

I mean, this isn't strange for TB. Anyone who's ever met him knows that he's one bossy motherfucker. Add this to his natural sense of entitlement and a generally enigmatic albeit relatively abrasive personality and you get this natural born leader. Which is really a bit unnerving to some strange little gypsy who's still trying to get a grasp on reality.

This was something that Sarah and I pondered one chilly August night as I was still preparing to come back to this horribly wonderful place. Everyone had passed out and Sarah and I were smoking on the Zen Porch, Christmas lights staining the violet night some strange melancholy. I had been up talking to George and she had been up because she just couldn't sleep.

"I always thought it was weird how everyone like, worshiped him. Like, all the guys would just bow down to him without question."

I didn't know how to pinpoint it but the fact came without question. That people followed TB.

"That's just the way he is."

However, I still think there's a lot about my husband's current situation that I still don't know or don't realize. I won't press it until he's ready to talk to me about it. Maybe he will be soon, maybe never. It's all really up to him. Either way, the realization was still a little unnerving...

But...if my husband is in charge of people, what does that mean? We're growing up? TB likes to fancy himself some sort of full blown adult. I still like to fancy myself as 21 and just a half step ahead of my peers and most definitely growing up. Not yet grown up but getting there...

There's also been a lot of talk about TB not reenlisting. Which is also very strange to me considering I've never known TB as anything else. When I first met him, he was jumping through paperwork hoops to get into the Marines. I was a student, country hopping, couch hopping, working two jobs and sleeping in my car. Then, suddenly, he was a Marine. Then...he was my husband. I can't see him doing anything else...but then again, it could be because I've never seen him as anything else...

There's a number of other stuff. Buying a house, this new job, real estate, economy and this new presidential election but alas, I have to get ready to go to work. Let's hope it's worth it.

To my O's: I love you all. I know it's been hard lately but remember, if you ever need a sanctuary for a little while, we're only a plane ticket away. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm only a phone call away.

Trigger Happy Jack

Fri, 25 Jan 2008 10:30:31 GMT

Wow, LJ has an adult content button now???

That's amazing...

Anyway...

Things are a bit better on the island now. TB and I cuddled up in the relative chilly and I started to fall asleep...I never finished though.

Hawaii is not home. Granted, like every place it has it's advantages and it's disadvantages (though, to Hawaii's credit, most of those disadvantages involve most of my closest friends not being here) and all in all, this isn't such a bad place.

But it's not home. It's just a place, I'm familiar with the streets, the weather, the sights. Like San Diego, like San Jose, like Tahoe and Carson City and Chicago. It's just a place with people and things and those particular quirks that make a place distinctive. It's not home but it's not totally unknkown...

Every so often though, when the sky is that strange bleeding red and the chill reaches my toes, I feel so close to home I can almost imagine myself in some apartment in San Jose, Campbell, somewhere so close to my streets that I've walked and driven at all hours of the night that, sometimes, I get the urge to drive to nowhere.

I pressed my back against TB under that bloody red sky and listened to some rice rocket drive by the apartment and was filled with a strange sort of familiarity stained with a melancholy the same color of that sky.

I miss home sometimes. But I'm working on it.

Anyway, I took a bunch of snapshots while Cookie was out here. There's about 55 of them but you can check the rest out here:

http://flickr.com/photos/medeaslullaby

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 08:53:53 GMT

...I'm really depressed...

By proxy...

It just keeps getting worse...

Hau'oli Makahiki Hou

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 22:10:41 GMT

The monkeys celebrate the earth's full rotation around the sun. The monkeys follow rituals which involve building fires and setting off explosives on the beach. The monkeys celebrate the number twelve by gathering in huge collectives in their monkey hives. The monkeys get drunk off of fermented fruit and celebrate the number twelve by huge colorful displays set off from monkey floats in the middle of the ocean. The monkeys hoot and holler and mate. The monkeys sure do put a lot of stock in planetary orbits...

I had my first new year's kiss this year.

Haha. It was absolutely wonderful. We went to go see the fireworks in Waikiki and it seemed like the whole island was there..well, except for Kaneohe. Driving through town was insane, at first I thought it was raining and that's why it was cloudy, until I realized that it was just smoke from all the fireworks being set off in the street....

It really was incredable.

So, anyway, Hau'oli Makahiki Hou! Here's to a new year. Here's to friends that were lost but even better friends made and the enduring and evergrowing strength of the friends who are worth it. Here's to mistakes that were made but learning from them so they don't happen again in the new year. Here's to the salt of the earth and dealing with the things that are worth it and letting go of the theings that aren't and having the wisdom to know the difference. Here's to knowing when enough is enough and being able to stand up for you and what you believe. Here's to bettering reltionships and strength with your loved one, your friends and you family and knowing that with those three things, you can do anything.

Here's to lending an ear to the ones you love, even if you don't talk that much anymore. Here's to being able to do it all over again and do it differently this time.

I love you guys.

Have a good new year.

Mon, 31 Dec 2007 10:01:52 GMT

I was going through some paperwork and I found a quote that I've been carrying around with me for what seems like forever. It's dated for 2002. I figured New Years Eve..eve would be the best time to let it go.

"People think art is just one thing or another, when in reality it is a big, messy plurality, a cocophony of individual voices, hierarchical agendas, and impossible contradictions. There's a hell of a lot more out there than what the dominant art world, critical cognoscenti, and marketplace arrive at as a consensus reality. And while taste-makers are busy picking out the freshest flavor du jour, we all know deep down that it's an absurdly chaotic stew with a whole lot more flavor that the cerebral delicacies that are served us in nouvelle cuisine morsels."

...I'm having a hard time making and even harder decision....

That's it...

I'll write later...depending on said decision..

Stream of Consciousness...

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 09:02:31 GMT

I don't know what to say...

I'm really tired, sitting on the floor.

I don't want to go to work tomorrow.

I went to the ER yesterday! That was...stupid.

Don't worry, I'm fine...

Um...my body feels like it's about forty. My brain is still awake though. This kinda induces an immense lethargy that leads to me laying on the couch watching movies on TV.

I don't know...TB is back in CA and a bunch of other acronyms...

I haven't really talked to him since he left.

I mean, I have...fairly brief phone conversations. One pretty good one...other than that, I think he's been with the nerd/boy wonders back home 24/7.

It's weird, I've talked to Cookie more than I've talked to him.

Maybe Peaches is right. Maybe I should just marry Cookie.

I don't hold it against him. I just feel a little discarded.

The girls are all out drinking tonight. The wives...all flew back home for Christmas...

I wonder now if maybe I made a mistake in staying back but it's too late now...

I really want to cry right now...but I can't. I'm really alone right now... It's fine, I'm not depressed, just...tired, y'know?

I'm sure that this too shall pass...

I don't want to go to work...

I hate this job. I don't know...the boss ladies will be gone but it's still miserable to think about.

I talked to Auntie D about the whole thing. She thinks it's fucking ridiculous...

She's gonna try to get me a job with Ralph Lauren.

That should be fun. Except for the fact that I am not stylish and not a label whore--

I just read a little about Ralph Lauren. Apparently he was some ghetto kid in the Bronx who never graduated college and sold overpriced ties to his classmates.

I think I like him.

Anyway, I have a list of stuff I have to get but my back is killing me...

Things aren't really so miserable...

I'm just a little lonely right now..

Fri, 14 Dec 2007 03:42:31 GMT

It's so strange to have to break down your whole life down into bulleted points on a sheet of white paper.

I've never been really good at writing resumes but...this is something I'm going to have to actually finish. I can't keep working here.

In the meanwhile, had a fight with Mike...

Mike still doesn't understand why I'm angry.

Go figure.

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 10:05:20 GMT

Can't sleep...

Again...

This sucks worse than a cheap hooker at a gas station. Of all the nights to lie awake, staring at the ceiling and be forced to ponder the meaning of life, it has to be the night that I have to wake up ass early the next morning and go to work.

I'm just waiting for the tylonol PM to kick in. Then tomorrow, I'll wake up, put on my uniform and chug a ~~cocaine~~ Snake Oil (who the fuck came up with that one) to counteract the depressant that I took tonight. It almost makes me wonder, when did I become so dependant on chemicals?

Hawaii has given me some of the most lonely, most peaceful nights I've ever had in my life. Whether it was laying against cold concrete starting conversations with a pregnant moon or sitting on the beach watching a rainbow appear and disappear against dark clouds and a green ocean like a child playing hide and go seek with the sun. I have never felt such peaceful...enlightened moments anywhere else in the world.

But the storms here are just plain unsettling. It's like there's this ultimate temporary feeling, as if the next time that the winds pick up, the mountains will crumble and this island will sink into the ocean.

I can feel it in my chest every time the winds blow through the canopy of our jungle, it's a deep and angry growling that feels like some cold hand is breaking through the humid warmth just to grasp at my lungs and steal the air from them just for kicks.

The sweet ocean breezes turn to slaps in the face and sends our furniture into the next yard, causes the curtains to reach out to the room, like someone grabbing for you.

Never in California did I ever have this fear that the next time the winds blow, something will jump out from the dark and kill me.

The lights have been going on and off all night. I think that's what freaks me out the most. In those few seconds that they flicker against the wall and the complete lack of light and noise takse over visions of 1986 pass through my head. Violence and chaos breaking out in the streets and myself, curled up in bed, just waiting for it to pass like a bad dream...either way, I suppose I should grab a flashlight and crawl back under the covers with my dear husband and try to get some sleep because tomorrow is going to be a long day, my friends.

Sat, 27 Oct 2007 12:20:44 GMT

I can't sleep tonight.

I have Lily Allen's "LDN" stuck in my head. Probably because The Boy (The Man?) had it on repeat in the car tonight. And so...the thought process went something kinda like this:

--God the color on the curtains is awfully pretty...I wish I could get to sleep...I wish my mind would just stop thinking...goddamn it's hot, but I don't want to move away from his body....I wish I wasn't so neurot--sun is in the sky, oh why oh why would I want to be anywhere else??--augh! Fucking Lily Allen...why is the background music still playing...why can't life come with a soundtrack...sleep...AWAKE! DAMMIT!--

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling hoping sleep would come to me through the mechanical, emotionless spin of the fan, the low hum of moving air and my husband's slow even breathing as he wrapped his arm around me. I'd sleep for a second and then I'd be staring at the curtains, the lazy rhythmic breathing of the muslin dyed blue from midnight.

I wondered why I couldn't sleep. Why I was so restless in such a safe peaceful setting? For all my bitching and moaning and weeping and sobbing and mourning over the past few months, why had I not reached the point of exhaustion, emotional and physical to where I couldn't just pass out in the arms of the quasi-naked, strapping young man who wore and swore an undying love for me in a platinum band around his finger?

I never really talked about my time with and without him. The relief upon his return and the anticipation that came through my head in the days and the hours prior, waiting in the hangar with the crying wives and the children, one part of me feeling everything that was going through their heads and the other part of me watching this chain of events as if it were a movie thinking "I don't know these people and I, well, after all this, I don't belong here". I cried endlessly in the days before, weeping in the peace of midnight, watching the city unfold like some secret story but in the few moments that I saw him...all of that left my body. In that second that I kissed him, the fights, the arguments and the harsh words left....just, gone. Like that. And driving home I thought, wow, the human mind is a strange strange thing.

That still didn't get me to sleep though. So I turned to him and pressed myself against his sleeping body and in his half daze he wrapped his arm so naturally around me that I felt right just laying there but it still felt unfair to be there while he was slipping into the oblivious on unconsciousness while I was at war with my mind...

I slipped out of bed not so gracefully and put on a t-shirt in the humidity that doesn't feel so humid anymore and I ventured forth into the jungle that is our lanai.

It's strange, I never really did sleep well during a full moon. Mom could never sleep through the night during a full moon either, I blame her...whether it was nature or nurture...it's all her fault. Later in our relationship, when I learned to rely on her as a confidante moreover than a perpetual nagging presence I would sit on the floor of her bathroom and smoke with her.

Neither of us saying a word, just staring into the blue light that came through the bathroom window wishing we could sleep because tomorrow would begin another long day in the proverbial 9-5. But in the morning, she would take her Vivarin and I would drink my Full Throttle and without a word, we'd leave the house.

I laid on the concrete, surrounded by our pond and our Ti plants and the papyrus and the bamboo and the rest of the wholly exotic plants that grow in our jungle and I starred and the moon. She starred right back at me through the haze of the clouds, playing with the light like a shawl so that one second I could see the shadow of my hand as clear as a drawing against the concrete and the next minute it would all be faded away in darkness.

When the clouds passed and I watched the sky in it's eternal velvet blue, the perfect backdrop for the brightest moon of the year peeking out through the shadows of the Bamboo and the Ti I felt something strange build up in me. The same sort of thing that some people might feel in church or at the top of a very high building. A strange ultimate peace and the blind knowledge and faith that everything is okay and everything will be okay and that you really have nothing to be scared of. Nothing to worry about (not that any of us actually heed that knowledge in the morning) because there will always be that something bigger than you, something greater than you that ultimately...means more than any of the banal shit that was previously on your mind.

I let the pavement cool me through the thin cotton of the shirt and kept my eye on the moon through our Swiss Family Robinson-like structure and for the first time in the past few months, I didn't feel on edge, I didn't feel like I needed to watch my back, I didn't feel like I needed to be careful about what was said or done or what had been said or done or the fact that any Joe walking through the pathway in our garden complex could see me laying on the pavement in my panties and a t-shirt.

Thoughts of god and the divine raced through my head at lightening bolt speed but ultimately, my mind settled on the night at April's, drinking with the Charlie wives and my tangent about how Catholicism is not a cult and Catholic's don't worship the Virgin contrary to popular belief (much like how Buddhists don't worship Buddha) and the blank looks I received thereafter.

"I thought you said you weren't religious."

"I'm not."

I still maintain that I'm not religious in any sense of the word but with times like these, I'm hard pressed to say that I don't believe in god or the divine.

I believe in god. I believe in the divine. Organized religions just have it all wrong. To say that my right is "righter" and your wrongs are "wronger" is just stupid. We're all human and we all need to make mistakes on our own to learn what to do and what not to do again.

Touch the frying pan, so to speak.

Some of the best human beings I've ever met were the people who have taken the not so savory path. The difference between those human beings and the slime that crawls out of the gutters is that those people accept that they did it, learn from it and move on with their lives.

All that high morals and guilt bullshit is just that.

My eyes settled on Orion and as I watched the right foot of Orion I thought about home and watching San Francisco from the top of a mountain explaining to Mike that this was my proverbial last hurrah. The reason I was taking things in such excess was because I knew and I understood the finality in the situation. It would be the last time that I would be able to experience California from a transient perspective. I'm supposed to be grown up now. I'm supposed to move on...

...and I didn't know if I was ready for that.

But sitting on the couch that I, myself, bought and dragged into the apartment for which I, myself, signed the lease looking at the art that I, myself (George helped) made and hung on the walls that I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed around the entertainment center that I built and the flatscreen TV that I wrote the check for...

I wonder if I am ready to start this "new and exciting" time in my life. If, in the scheme of things, this is where I'm supposed to be after all. Sitting on a plush couch with a free laptop in the middle of the night with the man who tells me constantly that he loves me and that I make him happy is sleeping peacefully in the other room while I pound out pretty words on pseudopaper.

I told him I wasn't always sure if I made him happy, he didn't always act like it but in upswings like these. I think I've pretty much come to believe it because for as much as he and I have been through in such a short time. Even 2500 miles away from home, he makes me happy too...

How cheesy is that?

Then again, all of this could have been the two shots of white tequila I had before bed.

Whoo for being able to buy liquor!!

Tue, 23 Oct 2007 00:52:57 GMT

Hrm...

I was trying to think positive...I really was...but this place has sorta turned into a forum where I can hide and furiously masturbate my most inner depressing thoughts.

There's a large part of me that knows and understands the intricacies of paradise. For as small as this island is and can feel at times. I know that perpetually, there's life pulsing, throbbing and resonating from shore to shore of this tiny little rock...and I feel like, day by day...I'm watching it all pass me.

This is what my mom likes to call post vacation blues.

For the past seven months I've been going, moving at the speed of life...part of the 5PM traffic with my radio shows, learning names and shaking hands with the rich and the strange. I have stories to add to my portfolio...but now...it's all come to a screetching halt. And I feel still, stagnant and complacent...I don't know how to get rid of it though...

E Komo Mai and all that shit...

Thu, 11 Oct 2007 08:08:04 GMT

I don't know why I stopped writing in here.

I don't know. I guess I just ran out of time, ran out of energy. Ran out of everything.

Either that or I just figured that my life wasn't much to write about.

But looking at my last entry, my last real entry. I've come to realize that a lot has changed since then. People have changed, relationships have changed, fuck...even my location has changed.

Speaking of which, I'm back in Hawaii. In my own apartment with my own paint on the walls and on my skin. I smell of sweat and paint and dirt and...well sweat.

But this place is my own. It has my name on it and I'll be damned if this isn't the perfect place for me.

I love this apartment, dearly and I know I'm going to be sad to see it go. I'm going to be even sadder when I put even more sweat into setting up more furniture and painting more pictures for the wall and fuck, even painting the walls.

All that's missing is my darling husband and my perfect job, which is...coincidentally, right across the street. I don't however start that until he gets back.

So, it's another week until the transient title is taken away from me.

But until then, I have my treehouse in the middle of the jungle with the shower with the 70s walls, and the walls that I put my heart into.

And I have the random bouts of insanity and insight...but that's for later.

Yeah, I think I'm going to start writing again.

Mon, 06 Aug 2007 10:10:51 GMT

You scored as rum, you are rum. you are adventurous and fun loving, but laid back and cool. you like to travel and love good times.

</td>

rum

92%

absinthe

92%

champagne

83%

whiskey

79%

vodka

79%

midori

75%

bourbon

58%

wine

54%

beer

50%

daiquaries

46%

what alcoholic drink are you (pictures)
created with QuizFarm.com

Truckee Quotes

Mon, 21 May 2007 06:57:59 GMT

Well now...THAT was surreal.

So, on to quotes.

"Oh my god! Is that your boyfriend?"

"No. I'm his pimp."

"Oh thank god, cause if he was your boyfriend, I would feel SOOOOOOOOO fucking bad in the morning."

~~~~~~

"Is that a penis on your--"

"Yeah and the balls keep hitting me in the ear!"

~~~~~

"Can I go back?"

"No. What would I tell your mom?"

"I'm playing backgammon."

~~~~~

"She molested me!"

"Shut up. You liked it."

"Yeah."

~~~~

"You should just strap a mattress to your back. It would make your life so much easier."

~~~~~

"Why aren't you catching any fish?"

"They're at church right now."

~~~~~

"You're not a girl! You're married!"

~~~~~

"Shoe?"

"Don't you dare fucking throw that sho---AAAAAAAAUGH!!"

~~~~~

"FUCKING HUMMER!!!!"

~~~~~

"Because we can power this car with manergy!!!"

~~~~~

Someone remind me again why I always wanted older brothers??

Pick Yer Nose

Fri, 04 May 2007 07:01:43 GMT

Wow.

Just wow.

Funerals are expensive.

C's memorial was today. It was wierd.

Everyone from the old tribe was there. Why does everyone only get together for funerals?? We should have a dinner party or something...

But Everyone was...out of it. I don't know if that's how everyone is or what...

JC was spun, drunk and wasted. Charlie and Nik were on...something. Everyone was on...something.

It really didn't occur to anyone that she had DIED OF AN OVERDOSE!

OVER DOSE!

FUCK.

Of course, none of them have ever seen anyone die of an overdose (not to my knowledge anyway, but what do I know? I exiled myself).

It turns my stomach to think of C like that.

Shit.

I guess I really was the most well adjusted kid.

This is wierd.

I never thought that I'd be planning a funeral and such before I got a chance to plan my wedding...my "real" wedding (Since obviously, a JoP wedding isn't good enough for most people).

I don't know...it's...It's a little akin to having a younger sister die before you.

It just works backwards

That's not how life fucking works.

He who's born first dies first and I'm not supposed to be one who everyone looks to and says "Oh, I'm so sorry. She was a great person."

Of course, no one said that to me. I'd gone the longest since seeing her. I hadn't seen her since before Hawaii. Just like I hadn't seen anyone from before...all those people who I neglect to talk about for very very good reasons...in months, days, years. Whatever.

God. The people who read this journal must think that my life is just one fucking tragedy after another.

It's not...I swear.

Just lately, y'know...when it rains it pours and all that shit.

But otherwise, I lead a generally good life

Generally uneventful

Generally poetic and peaceful

...and zen.

I swear.

I miss George.

I'm sure if he was here, he'd tell me to get over it...the proverbial zombie hand and all that shit.

But you can't just leave family. So I didn't.

Even if this was TOTALLY not how I saw my one day off this week going.

I'm tired. And cold...my thighs hurt from recieving yesterday.

I should probably just sleep. Mikey and I concluded that in the past four days, I've slept a total of eight hours. I stumbled when I got out of the car.

But...I'll probably write.

I'll write...maybe to him...maybe just to go to sleep.

Who knows?

So ahm, here's to the old times?

dofnsdifjs dnvsdofuihsdofuihn

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 07:58:32 GMT

*insert scream here*

I hate this.

I'm heartbroken and pissed and angry and pissed....and angry.

I never thought this would cause such a personal rift as it has.

I can't even run away this time.

I'm sick and fucking tired of the fucking pity parties and yet... I'm still hoping for a little fucking remorse. Augh.

I'm being way to sensitive.

Fuck it.

Fuck this.

I'm having a bad...everything day

Sat, 21 Apr 2007 22:00:19 GMT

LaGitan: Yo

wastelandemoyey0: yoyo

LaGitan: I got the job

wastelandemoyey0: which?

LaGitan: But no facial jewelery. No sneakers
LaGitan: The florist job

wastelandemoyey0: sweet

LaGitan: Very chichijiji apparently
LaGitan: The women adopt children from other countries there
wastelandemoyey0: im waiting for a call back on a job that pays 14/hr and all i do is check liught bulbs and see if there burnt out, and i get a company car
LaGitan: Damn you. How do you find jobs like that?

wastelandemoyey0: sex
wastelandemoyey0: lots of it
wastelandemoyey0: ...
wastelandemoyey0: <3 craigslist/?

LaGitan: That's where I found this one
LaGitan: But not some 14/hr job checking lightbulbs

wastelandemoyey0: bwahahaha
wastelandemoyey0: 30-35 hours a week

LaGitan: Bullshit

wastelandemoyey0: oh yea nukka
wastelandemoyey0: <3 under the table
wastelandemoyey0: what are you up to

LaGitan: At home make over
LaGitan: I don't feel very attractive right now
LaGitan: Actually...I feel fucking fugly

wastelandemoyey0: ive seen some fugly people, you my friend are not fugly

LaGitan: I know, but I feel it
LaGitan: We went out last night for margaritas and got all dressed up and...it just didn't work for me
LaGitan: I almost started crying
LaGitan: I felt like such a fucking child

wastelandemoyey0: were all young amber, you have a very youthful appearance, its not a bad thing

LaGitan: Yeah, it fucks me over sometimes
LaGitan: No no no...it wasn't that I couldn't buy margaritas...it's that everyone ELSE was so pretty

wastelandemoyey0: i think you arnt giving yourself enough credit amber, im saying this strictly plutonicly obviously but you are beautiful, you just need to have more confidence

LaGitan: Yeah, I've always had a problem with that...
LaGitan: It was the whole childhood on steriods thing
LaGitan: Seriously, I mean, it seems like a ploy for a quick ego stroke
LaGitan: But I really...feel disgusting right now

wastelandemoyey0: what are you doing tonight

LaGitan: Crashing an indie/emo/scene show with the girls...
LaGitan: Beating up small children

wastelandemoyey0: ah ok

LaGitan: Putting babies on spikes
LaGitan: Or something
LaGitan: I don't know
LaGitan: I'm not really feeling it that much

wastelandemoyey0: well if you want to go driving let me kno

LaGitan: It just sucks, y'know?

wastelandemoyey0: i think your being to hard on yourself

LaGitan: I just wish I knew...something

wastelandemoyey0: ?

LaGitan: That thing that Steph and Brooke know
LaGitan: That thing that makes them look like girls

wastelandemoyey0: its how they act

LaGitan: And the fact that they know how to do hair
LaGitan: And make up
LaGitan: And how to fucking shop for god's sake

wastelandemoyey0: steph and brooke are girly girls

LaGitan: I know
LaGitan: I just wanna be one of those girls y'know?
LaGitan: Objectified and reduced to a couple of fatty deposits on my chest and a convienent pair of holes between my legs

wastelandemoyey0: why do you want guys flocking around clevage and ass

LaGitan: You're telling me that you've never wanted girls to look at you in that way, while you're walking down the street and go "DAMN!! I'd do him."
LaGitan: I want to be that kind of girl
LaGitan: And it sounds so fucking stupid
LaGitan: Shallow

wastelandemoyey0: ive never felt that way because i know how fucked over you can get
wastelandemoyey0: id rather be semi good looking than drop dead hot
wastelandemoyey0: no girls have ever came after because of my looks
wastelandemoyey0: its my personality
wastelandemoyey0: id rather have it that way

LaGitan: Me too
LaGitan: But sometimes, I want to be Paris Hilton

wastelandemoyey0: ...
wastelandemoyey0: im seriously about to come to gilroy and punch you in the face lol

LaGitan: I don't know how to explain it...
LaGitan: A girl thing I guess
LaGitan: The need to be pretty

wastelandemoyey0: you are preety amber!

LaGitan: I want to be hot.
LaGitan: .
wastelandemoyey0: well im going to keep some of those comments to myself because you are a good friend of mine but married to another good friend of mine and um yea that would be weird

LaGitan: You know what I mean!!!
LaGitan: I want to be...disregarded for my boyishly charming personality and instead held on a pedestal for my unattainable looks

wastelandemoyey0: why do you want to be a trophy

LaGitan: Because sometimes it's a good thing
LaGitan: And when I'm surrounded by trophies...
LaGitan: It's really hard not to want to be one of them

wastelandemoyey0: who are you calling a trophy?

LaGitan: I'll brb
LaGitan: You

wastelandemoyey0: what lol
wastelandemoyey0: im a trohpy??

LaGitan: Yeah
LaGitan: Slut

wastelandemoyey0: wtf
wastelandemoyey0: i am in no way shape or form a trophy
wastelandemoyey0: ive come to realize this and accept
wastelandemoyey0: there isnt much i can do about it
wastelandemoyey0: besides get a chick drunk enough that she thinks im good looking
wastelandemoyey0: that seems to work
wastelandemoyey0: or get me drunk enough
wastelandemoyey0: either way

LaGitan: Are you pretty when you're drunk?

wastelandemoyey0: i might be, even if im not i think i am
wastelandemoyey0: wana get trashed?

LaGitan: I don't think that's a good idea
LaGitan: I just got done crying in the bathroom
LaGitan: Drunk depressed Amber=Not good

wastelandemoyey0: amber...
wastelandemoyey0: I LOVE YOU!!
wastelandemoyey0: we need to get you out

LaGitan: I don't think so...
LaGitan: Not tonight

wastelandemoyey0: -_-
wastelandemoyey0: well im more than willing to come over if your up for it
wastelandemoyey0: we can watch movies and throw eggs at that dog that lives next to you

LaGitan: Heh

wastelandemoyey0: i know youd get a kick out of it
wastelandemoyey0: dont lie

LaGitan: Til my neighbors called the cops

wastelandemoyey0: but the black man ran... THAT WAY (cops go "that way")
wastelandemoyey0: problem solved
wastelandemoyey0: and how
wastelandemoyey0: =d

LaGitan: I'm metzican

wastelandemoyey0: your only half bad
wastelandemoyey0: we say that to brian alot lol
wastelandemoyey0: hes only half the master race
wastelandemoyey0: and the other half takes over when he drives and hits parked buses

LaGitan: Buahhahaahahah
LaGitan: He crashed into a parked bus?

wastelandemoyey0: seriously you know im here for you when ever, just call meh
wastelandemoyey0: oh by the way
wastelandemoyey0: would you help me dispose of a body?

LaGitan: Yeah sure
LaGitan: When?

wastelandemoyey0: Just a general question...

LaGitan: I don't think I'm gonna go out
LaGitan: I'm not in the mood to compete

wastelandemoyey0: are you in the mood to chill? you can shave my head if it will make you feel better
wastelandemoyey0: or i could shave your head
wastelandemoyey0: either way
wastelandemoyey0: or we could find a body to dispose of

Tue, 10 Apr 2007 18:00:50 GMT

RIP Sid Fishous
2004-2007
The best talking goldfish a girl could ever have.
You will be missed.

How weird...how sad I feel over that stupid fish.

Story--Brandi Carlile

Thu, 05 Apr 2007 07:39:55 GMT

Intro

A, Asus, A, Asus

A E
All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am
F#m D
So many stories of where I've been and now I got to where I am
A E F#m
D
But these stories don't mean anything, when you've got no one to tell them to
A E A Asus A
It's true, I was made for you
A E
I climbed across the mountain tops swimming across the ocean blue
F#m
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
D
But baby I broke them all for you
A E
Oh, because even when I was flat broke
F#m D A
You made me feel like a million bucks you do
E A Asus A
I was made for you

(SOLO) - listen for chord changes...same as the rest of the song
A, E, F#m, D, A, E, F#m,
A, E, A, Asus, A

A
You see the smile that's on my mouth
E
Its hiding the words that don't come out
F#m
All of my friends who think that I'm blessed
D
They don't know my head's a mess
A E
No they don't know who I really am
F#m D A
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
E A Asus A
and I was made for you

A E
All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am
F#m D
So many stories of where I've been and now I got to where I am
A E
Oh, but these stories don't mean anything
F#m D
when you've got no one to tell them to
A E A Asus A
It's true, I was made for you
A E A Asus A
Oh yeah well it's true, I was made you

And now on to a shower.

Wed, 04 Apr 2007 07:35:34 GMT

Oi...

Home again, home again.

I'm going to take a shower but I needed to get this down on pseudopaper.

My mom told me that "they" took a survey on married (male) Marines and the two biggest fears that they might have while deployed are:

The "dear John" letters

and...

"What is she spending her money on?"

Imagine the anxiety at looking at the bank statement and not being able to validate how much money was spent.

Thankfully, our bank is slow and I realized that my fear was over nothing...I just read it wrong.

I feel stupid.

I've made most of my amends with coming home. I still have to work a few out. I refuse to end up playing the martyr and saying that I'm doing this for the good of the tribe.

We all know how selfish I am and that I'm doing it for the sake of another camping trip.

Cause no one can hear you scream there.

Tell me I'm not a bad person for laughing at a "Return Brief"...

Sun, 01 Apr 2007 09:54:04 GMT

I had a bottle of rum...and I really don't feel any different. I'm sure I was talking louder or doing something but...all that really happened was that my limbs went a little numb and I lost a few inhibitions.

I don't know if this is a bad thing or not. I'm no longer a cheap date.

On another note. I've been thinking about him an awful lot. I sense an emotional breakdown pretty soon.

I wish I could talk about everything that's been bothering me lately about coming home.

Well...not just the bad things. The good things too...the major zen moment I had on 101 but...I'm not up for it now.

I feel like a bad daughter. I've spent a total of 30 minutes at home with my mother.

It's okay though. She and I have an "appointment" tomorrow.

That means I have to be grown up.

No more wild nights drinking or driving about the bay area at 3 in the morning.

Ah well, I knew it would come some day...Tuesday. I go to the Temp Agency.

Yay. :/

Oh yeah, by the way.

I miss him.

A lot.