feel the love, feel the hate, feel the night.

I've got a new bike. Isn't she gorgeous?!

we are we are night sky night sky

Oh baby. Last night was amazing, I'm so sore I can't even like, argh. There has been no recovery time between Rage and Dax last night. We show up kind of late for Dax at New Orleans' infamous One Eyed Jack's. We finally get in and Warhola goes up to the bar and buys some whiskey. Brofus, The Tiger and I sit down, exhausted and just wanting some Dax. Warhola has never heard any of his music, so he doesn't know what to expect. We are waiting around, drinking whiskey, the first band ends. We get up and move closer. Suddenly, Brofus grabs my shirt and says, "Look who's here." LESS THAN FUCKING 5 FEET AWAY IS THE MAN. Drinking a soco, smeared eyeliner under his eyes, I can actually hear the man talking. I can't breathe. I'm sharing the same air as Dax Riggs. I break away from Warhola and find an excuse to move closer. Suddenly, he is staring at me, we are making eyecontact, holy fuck. His eyes fuckin bore into me and I was frozen, like a solider. He smiles, and moves away. I melted into Warhola and he looked confused for a moment. We waited through the next band and then, and then.

"My name is Dax. And these are my Blood Kings."
They played basically the exact same set that they played at Voodoo the day before, but it was so much closer and he joked with the crowd and "Oh it's so good to be home..." and boy did I know that. Warhola was definitly into it and he played everything I wanted to hear, and I touched Tiger during "Evil Friend" and said "This song is for you." Because it is. I swivled slowly with Warhola during "Death Brite" and it was wonderful, a perfect send off for Brofus' last night.

"We are we are night sky night sky, we are we are god's eye god's eye.."

the battle of voodoo fest

Can I even explain this? Not really, it was too close to God, to close to nirvana. We arrived at VOODOO around noon. The first band we saw, of course, was Daximus Riggsimus, who has lost a lot of weight and I just wanted to fucking fuck him. Hahah. He played almost everything I wanted to hear, and I was just so excited to fucking see the guy. I mean I've been chasing the fool for over 5 years now. Tony loved him, which is good because we are going to go see him again tonight. We wandered around after that basically, because we didn't really want to see any of the inbetween bands. The next one, we went to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, which yeah, Cassandra, they played "Berlin", and I thought of you. But, it was still kind of disppointing and dull. The boys went and saw Porcupine Tree, which apparently was really good, but I had to venture out and find water. I went to the first aid tent and then finally said fuck it and bought some water for da kids and I, and then met up with them after Kings of Leon started. Dolled out the water, Tony went to Toots & The Maytals, and Thomas and I went to see Kings of Leon, and Ryan Adams was playing guitar for Kings and it was really weird and kind of dull. They sound exactly like they do on the record. Thomas and I then went to M.I.A. and she was so funky and awesomely shiny in tight pants and shit and it was really awesome. We left to pee and then head up to the other end of the field for Rage Against the Machine, and we didn't really get that fucking far, but it was just so....We met this kid named Daniel and he smoked us up and I started to get nervous, I'm so anxious I'm going to grind my fucking teeth out of my mouth, who the fuck can beat that? My jaw is in constant pain because I'm shoving my fucking teeth back into my mouth. I almost threw up, I couldn't move, all this bad shit came down into my head, I'm in debt I'm not in school my teeth are going to fall out, I can't breathe, I'm too high, my mouth is too dry, and then it was all gone, I was pushed farther and farther forward. I made it a good 50 feet forward from where Thomas and I started. We had long lost Tony to the masses. But then, the actual noise, the actual music coming from Morello's guitar and oh jesus, is this really happening? The full moon illuminating everyone and Zach could totally just feel it, seething between his teeth. He changed some of the lyrics around, but only in ways that locals would pick up on. "I'm rolling down CANAL with a shotgun...I'm rolling down ST. CLAUDE with a shotgun..." Everyone I passed let me hit whatever they were smoking and I got a couple gulps of beer to wash it down with, I couldn't believe that all of this was happening. Encore, and they fucking played FREEDOM and Zach made this beautiful speech about how all this bad shit was happening in New Orleans, but "You, you here tonight, represent all that is beautiful in this city." And I cried. I openly wept. I FUCKING CRIED. Suddenly, it was over. I had occasionally been glancing up at the moon to tell the time, suddenly I realized that they had been playing for over 3 hours, they all hugged at the end and bowed, and Zach and Tom hugged again walking off stage and I nearly cried at that. Seeing these two people who have had all these problems get over it and give New Orleans what it needed, I couldn't be happier. The sea changed and we started to wander back to the fairgrounds. People carrying the wounded, drunk, dehydrated, stepping over bottles and plastic cups, discarded blankets, jackets, purses. I find Thomas after watching the end of the world carnival spill out, the mass exdous of enraged people. We found Tony, eating ice cream not too far down. He opened his arms and hugged me and said "oh my god, oh my god." That was all pretty much anyone could say. I whimpered at his ice cream float and he fed me for a second, and I was strangly relieved. I didn't even have to lift the spoon. We walked back, gingerly stepping over trash, mud, discarded clothes, people. We had a difficult time figuring out how to get home, but we made it. Walked back from the central buisness district and I was holding on for dear life by the time we made it to my door, I couldn't move. Warhola was asleep when we got home, and I just took off my dress and shoes (his riot slippers which I destroyed) and crashed down next to him, inthe sweltering heat of a radiator turned up too high. He left early this morning, and I told Tony to come sleep in my room, it is so cold in the rest of the house. I had mostly selfish reasons in this.

But.

Today, I buy a bike, get groceries, see Dax, drink some evan williams, ride bike, piss off kerry leigh with my new cool bike, make out with Warhola, not function.

NOT FUNCTIONING IS THE ORDER OF THE DAY.

die? i'd rather fly.

So, I finally got pictures off Warhola's camera. They are ace, as always. Tomorrow is rage against the machine I can't even fucking believe it. Like no, I can't. But I got some pictures for you guys......I mean Cassandra. and who ever else is randomly reading, Mella, Robin, Janny...

anywho.

I got this awesome homemade pink chain dress of insanity from a local designer, rep. Those pictures of Tony where when he first got here, Thomas just a second ago, and the little blips on our skin was Tony & I's writer brand, always over our hearts, you and me, he and i. We've become alot closer, I think anyway, since he got here, and it's perfect.

Writers for life.

eleven saints

I need a scanner. The pictures I took of Tony are just that fucking beautiful, I really need to just charge people money and take their pictures. Thomas got in last night, how awesome is it to have my boys here, you know? So of course we got fucking drunk as shit. I'm hungover right now, drinking soymilk straight from the bottle because my head is pounding and Skinny Puppy sounds the best. The weather in New Orleans is getting cold. The wind was biting last night as I walked to Hanks to get alcohol for the boys. I don't have sweaters thick enough for it, I was praying that the sweet Louisiana suffocating lustflower scent heat would last forever. But it's not and I don't know how to deal with the falling tempatures. I sound ridiculous as I say this, because these tempatures are like 65 degrees and I'm freezing. I know Cassandra wants to kill me, hahha. Shit I'm just so distracted and I don't want to go to work at all.

But.

I bought everyone a ticket for Rage Against the Machine. That's right, 50$ to see Rage Against the Machine. It's so cooold I don't know. I don't know what to wear to work, I'm out of clothes andI need to do laundry and asklfhdakahdkd. But Friday we get to see Rage and everyone is so excited. God damn, I have to go to work in 20 minutes and I'm still stinky and hung over and drunk and not dressed. Listening to Tony's profile song and wanting to just exist in my stink and undies and smoke some camels and not do anything. But exist. Shit more time is slipping by!

Tonight I go sign up to be a Irrn Rail punk rock librarian. Very thrilled, very excited. I will be doing my part to further things I believe in. i.e., anarchist/socialist/antiwhatever, and uh yeah. I'll sit behind a desk and read all day and play punk rock and talk to everyone else about punk rock and books and punk rock..

yeah validation is fucking in the house.


I have to stop and like get ready to work and write down my chart and shit.
I'm just so distracted.

such a slick little girl...

It's almost 1 o clock and no one else but me is awake. Tony has been here for 3 days now, you couldn't even imagine how joyous I was when I got to the trainstation and I had to wait an hour for him but it didn't matter, how joyous I was when I saw him picking up his bags and just waited anxiously by the glass door, he hadnt even seen me yet. I just threw my arms around him and said "Good to see you baby." And we just held each other for a minute. So nice. We went to The Port of Call (where Warhola works) and got him some food and a monsoon, I showed him around the neighborhood, and I was a little worried at first because I didn't see the magic high in him that I had seen in everyone else. The next day we went to Iron Rail (which I am to be a volunteer librarian very soon!!!!!!!!) and he was in heaven. Zines, books, flyers, papers, everything an anarchist boy dreams of. He bought some zines and I checked a book out for him. We went to the river and sat on the Ferry and just rode it back and forth several times, feeling the cool misty spray hit our skin. I told him this is a Scorpio city, which, is awesome for Warhola and Tony, they have so many things in the stars in common its crazy. Tony really likes Warhola and I'm glad. But I still hadn't seen the New Orleans high in him yet. So yesterday, we went to City Park with his guitar and some writing materials and books and sat by the calm part of the river and talked about Rage Against the Machine, poetry, self identity, words, life, sterotypes, everything. We took the street car back up to the CBD, and then walked down Bourbon to the house. We changed clothes and hopped on the longboards for the Why are We Building Such a Big Ship? show. Kerry Leigh had called and said she was in St. Roch tavern getting a drink, the show wasn't on time. So we went over there and sat down at the bar. Tony looked nervous, he was at a bar! I asked KL what she was drinking and she was having fruity bourbon, so I ordered a bourbon and coke, one for me, one for tony. His eyes got wide, he couldn't believe it. There it was, the high. We chatted with KL for a little bit, got another drink, talked about these AWESOME FUCKING PANTS I got for 10 dollars, big ship, new orleans, underwear, target superstores. Finally the show started and we went back to the Side Arm Gallery for it. A beautiful blues duo played first and it was soooooo amazing and wonderful, Tony was tipsy and grinning like a fool. After that was a Tegan and Sara esque twin girl duo from Canada who played mandolin and sang like German folk songs about demons and shit. We made them come back for an encore. We ran up to the shell after that and I BOUGHT A BOTTLE OF WHISKEY NO QUESTIONS ASKED. Yeah okay life is over right now hahaha. We got so drunk, I was so fucking sexy looking yesterday, shit I looked fucking good! Sorry I was just thinking about that. But yeah, we come back and it's time for Big Ship. Everyone stamps their feet and claps their hands and they start playing and walt is just silly and laughing and everyone knows when to chant and we danced all night and finished the whiskey. We come outside and Tony says, this is the greatest city on earth. And I smile and hug him and say, yes sweetie, that's why I live here. I was on Warhola's board and he was on mine and I fell a good 3 times on the way home, I have a serious bruise on my ass, but we just laughed, we were so drunk. I've never been drunk with Tony before. It was quite fun. We got home and started watching A love song for bobby long and pointing out things we had walked by earlier, all the scenes that take place like one block away. We finally crashed in at 4 am, and now they are all still sleeping and it's fucking 115. I went to Mardi Gras zone and got soymilk and juice and the newspaper for the kids and they ain't even up! I think today will be a quiet one inside, reading, talking, you know. The quiet stuff. And man did tony's bud get me blitzed. -_-. Like not functioning.

:D

down boy, count me down.

So I have to post again because right now, I'm boiling a sextoy that is like, no fucking joke, 11 inches long. How the fuck is that supposed to feel good?? 0_o? But Whatever, haha. New things always. And I finally got some pictures that I've wanted off of Warhola's camera, jesus. I'm still fucking around with his self timer, but you know, I'm tryin. It's fucking difficult with a camera that I'm scared to breathe too hard on. But they are off getting free breakfast at Mardi Gras Zone at midnight, I know, and I'm boiling sextoys and LOOK I GET TO GO TO DAX RIGGS, I TOLD YOU!!!

andy's chest

So I've just painted my nails and am typing very carefully. Warhola and I just got done washing our clothes at Schiro's Laundromat/Bar. We got drunk, of course, and it was nice, we swivled our hips to some invisible Lou Reed beat that we were both craving. There were some super asshole people at work today, they were from Zaire and were so sexist and demanding I wanted to fucking kill them. They had a 80$ check and left me 2.50$. I told Fanta that I wouldn't wait on them anymore and she said it was fine because she wasn't going to serve them anymore. So yeah. Tony is going to be here so soon and I'm so excited to just like, be around him again. We will talk deep shit and I will get to hold his hand walking to the Sidearm Gallery to see Why are We Building Such A Big Ship? and Ghost Bees. And get drunk and do stupid shit all night, I just can't even wait to see his expression change as he gets high off New Orleans like everyone else does. I've also decided to start charting my menses, which is strangly liberating for me. Talk about a feminist bitch. I went to http://www.myspace.com/ironrailcollective The Iron Rail Book Collective and took out a lifelong membership. I got Bratmobile's Girls Get Busy on VINYL for 8$, Albert Camus The Stranger for 1.00$, and Kate Chopin's The Awakening for .50 cents, and this zine about charting, which really got me into it. Today I picked up the thermometer for it and will start the first day I start to bleed again, which should be any day now. There is still alot more I need to learn about my body but it's thrilling to think that I'm starting to take the little steps. You take your tempature everyday and write what kind of ooze you have and how far away from your period you are and what phase of the moon you are in and after a couple months I should be able to tell when I'm ovulating, when I'm going to have a rough period, the like. And I already feel more incontrol from what I've read in Cunt: A Decleration of Independence, I'm just like, SUPERWOMAN NOW. So yeah. Tomorrow is Wensday and then Tony gets here Thursday and I'll get high for the first time in months and probably kiss that boys face when I see him at the trainstation, I will be so fucking happy.


Yeah.

And Warhola has become strangly more and more attractive as we go along. Is he putting something in the water?

will you kiss me through the window?

So I'm drinking whiskey and listening to The Dresden Dolls as loud as possible (as not to piss August off in the next room) and completly content. I was kind of in a weird mood all day today, because I'm hella fucking broke and don't know what to do about it, but August got TWO jobs and Warhola got a second one so between the 3 of us we are working 6 jobs, so I know I won't have to pick up any more slack. Tony arrives so soon and I'm about to piss myself with how excited I am about it. I'm pissed off that I have to go back to school, I hate it and I won't be able to get a job with my major anyway, what kind of fucked up cocktease is that? But the writing is flowing like never before, I'm dreaming about writing pages and pages and I can see the words on the pages. Before the end of next year I swear I will finish some sort of a draft for a novel, there is just too much bursting out of me at the fucking seams. School is depressing the hell out of me, I don't know what to do about it. I have put off thinking about it because I'm worried about more immediate concerns, but now it's started to eat away at me again and I don't know what to do. So I just don't really think about it. But KL got a piece of mail from Metro State so I'll have to deal with it some how. I think I'll call Galen and have a serious convo with her about it. She's about to move in with her gay bestfriend too :D. I'm in this weird weird mood. I need a cigarette I guess. I see lots of trains and movement in my dreams, lots of words. I don't know if you guys know, but I have some lukewarm psychic abilities. My dreams always come true, if they relate to my real life (I saw myself get my GED, meet Warhola, move to New Orleans, Jake, etc) and not some strange monster or something. So when I see things like myself hopping a train up north in the middle of the night, sneaking out of Warhola's house, it worries me. Boston keeps popping up over and over. Anything in Boston, you guys? Besides The Dresden Dolls and Amanda.

I guess that's it until later, I need a cigarette sooo fucking bad right now.

love.

a letter for msss cassandra nicole.

Cassandra Nicole,
It's 2am and Warhola and I just came in- I met him at The Port of Call and we longboarded home. Thank Jimi again for Penny Long, the damn thing has saved me again and again. My legs are so sore, almost screaming. All the art that was on my walls at my apartment on Oxford Place is now on my vanity. L7 tape cover, Hole tape cover, The Smiths, Bikini Kill picture from our notebook. Sadly nostalgic but mean something to me now. I can't believe that I'm so far away from you Mama Bones. Remeber me? Ruin? Eats brains for breakfast and hearts for lunch? Who carried a crowbar and splashed with you in puddles on our high school track mats? Sometimes I'm worried that I'm going soft. Where is the fire that burned us up? You are stuck and I hurt over it. You are my girlheart and the one true girlfriend I have, and now you are so far away....I miss smoking js and listening to Karen O on a tummy filled with Mickeys. MYSTERY GIRL, MYSTERY GIRL! Mella and I talked for like 45 minutes last night and it was insane how she, although she has never met you, could be thinking the exact same thing I was.

I (we) propose:
When your lease is up at Mariposa, come live with Thomas and I (or just I, if Thomas gets into school in the Iron City) for 6 months. Don't break up with Jimi, just come stay with me for 6 months, away from everyone, where it's just you and you can focus on your art/mental health/whatever. Then when 6 months is up, make a descion. Go back to Jimi in Denver, stay here, whatever. But you have been with someone forever, and when does Cassandy get time to grow herself, and exist just for herself?

Think about it.

I'm exhausted and the boys are talking buisness and I just want to go to bed and then go to the library tomorrow. I'm so sore and Warhola promised to rub my legs to make them feel better. I can't believe my brothers are coming to visit so soon. 5 days for my tiger, 12 for brofus. I will probably break down and cry when I see Tony, I have no writer friends but him, no one understands my fucked up neurotic emotional behavior like he does. Danzig was jealous of it and hated me/him, most people (i.e Kristen or maybe even Thomas) are angry about it. I will know that person for the rest of my life, and I know he will always be there to sing Patti Smith songs with me or reply to my text messages at 3am when I'm so fucked up that puke is coming out my nose when I'm half naked on my bathroom floor, or tell me that my writing is shit or whatever. And I hope that I am kind of like that for you. And here is me telling you,

GET BORN, IT IS TIME TO LIVE FREE.

j'adore mon amie!

Jasmine
RUIN
Rebel Girl
Stumbleine
Girlheart

life ain't a bitch

I meant to put this in the last one but I totally forgot.
Last night Warhola and I longboarded to get soda and alcohol. He has obviously been longboarding for years, the way his body swayed and the way he moved and I was so attracted to him. I called out "Oh baby, you are so hot on your longboard." And he procedded to trip! :D it was amusing. But I was almost drooling just watching him, it was like..I don't know. We went back to the house and got drunk and I passed out without any panties on or something. Badhabit, I guess. When we woke up this morning and we were all wrapped around each other and Archimedes was asleep next to my head on the other pillow and I felt so happy and content, and watching Warhola's sleepy grey eyes blink awake and I said "I'm so happy with our little family" and he smiled and we kissed even with morning breath. His voice is like...I don't know but as we were going to get breakfast and holding hands on our boards he was talking about some mountain dew ad way back in the day and how this could be one because we were so "extreme" or whatever the fuck and I was just so pleased aesthetically by his voice. I just was so fucking smitten.

Just as I'm smitten by this Aesop Rock song.

I figured out self timer on Warhola's expensive as fuck canon rebel. oh yeah. those are his chucks by the way, we have the same shoe size. rock out.

dream your dream or dream your life away!!!

Everyone must listen to Why are We Building Such a Big Ship?. They are amazing. I took Warhola and I out to breakfast this morning at Cake Cafe, and there he got a call from the power company saying our lights would be turned off monday. I freaked out and asked why he didn't tell me we had a power bill and he just shrugged. I was so mad. I biked furiously all the way to Canal street down royal, paid the 80$ bill plus the 4 dollar service fee and came back so sad and angry, this was the exact reason that I fled Denver. Warhola tried to comfort me and I just lashed out at him. He went in and took a shower, and I sat on the stoop, talking to Thomas and crying. Then some dude walked by and stopped and was like Hey Girl what's your name? And I just fucking lashed out! Could you just get some fucking respect you motherfucker? I'm on the phone infront of the house where I live with my boyfriend, could you just fuck off?!?!?! He looked taken aback and said "All I wanted was your name, sorry." I just snapped, go away. I was just so mad and wasn't going to take any bullshit. Thomas and I just fucking laughed so hard after he shuffled away. Thomas said "my girl ain't takin no shit!" Damn right. I came back in and Warhola was getting out of the shower and I apologized for being so miffed and about Tony coming so early/for so long, and I explained yeah this is your house but I need to see these people and blah blah and he said "You pay rent, this is your house too, you are my woman, it's fine baby. Just keep them fed." And I can do that perfectly fine. So I feel relieved and now just have to get the kids from the airport/busstation to the house and back again. BLAH. And I will have enough for rent and for my phone bill when it comes, because the money i was owed by the boys is coming back at the end of this week.

PHEW.

And I'm slowly getting my music back that I missed so freakin dearly. I am happy. I told you, one day this city fucks you, the next day is does it real nice and slow sleepy sex.

Uhhuh.

Tony will be here in 7 days. I'm worried because I don't want to piss off my roommates, but August has no room to speak because I paid his rent for this month, fuck off. I just don't want Warhola to feel invaded, because Tony will be coming and then Thomas, and then they will both leave at the same time. But still. That's alot of time - but I told them both before hand about my two visitors and I just got the timing wrong. Also - I kind of feel like they should not complain because I've filled our stomachs and kept our rent paid. So, you know, like, this is my month? Or something? The scales are starting to tip more towards I pick up alot of stuff because I work everyday and Warhola doesn't, and August doesn't work at all. I feel slightly miffed. But I don't want to step on anyone's toes, nor whatever. But Thomas and Tony would both crash in their "work" room on inflatable mattress that could be moved to give them space during the day, which Tony and Thomas would not be there for - they would be suckin up the city, you know? We would just come back here to sleep, we would be gone all the time otherwise. You see?
I just don't want to tick anyone off.

:(

niggaz be rollin.

I can't really afford to live in this house. Warhola and I got home from doing laundry and eating the most delicious tapas ever, and August exploded. He's mad that Warhola isn't doing any "work" and he's doing it all. I wanted to strangle him, how dare he say anything about work at all! Warhola and I are supporting him because he doesn't have a job, and it's been over a month, and I had a job within the first two weeks of living here. I wanted to say, FUCK IT, WARHOLA! We can get a little apartment on Esplanade & City Park which we can afford and you can start your buisness yourself, and I'll help you, I'll learn how to sew and we can do it together, fuck August, he's such a bitch! But they are in the back room talking very softly so I'll have to wait until he comes back out into normal world to talk to him about it. Warhola and I can't afford this place by ourselves, it's 900$ a month, and I paid most of the rent last month and it completly drained me. Something is telling me that August won't have a job by novemeber and we will have to pick up the slack again, but if it looks like that all I will explode. I won't stand for this shit at all, and if it wasn't address in the yelling match tonight (I went outside and smoked) I will bring it up myself. Because a waitress can't afford 450$ a month plus utilities, you have to be fucking shitting me. Today at work was fucking terrible, some douche bag and his faghag bitched at me over and over for like 10 minutes straight, the broccoli is to hard, it's too spicy, its too this too that, I won't ever come here ever again. I felt like crying, I've never had an angry person at the resturant ever, and I just wasn't ready for it. I just didn't say anything and showed them the door. And then walking to the bank, Warhola calls me, furious, his car has been towed, they won't let him have it back until he pays off his parking tickets, which means 1200$ to get his shitty whip out of impound. I cried, but didn't let him hear it. I ran to the bank and made it with 5 minutes till 5. My bankers (who all know me by name and we are friends now) cheered me up a little bit and I felt kind of better. I started walking home and met up with Mark (Skinny Puppy dude) and Bobby, bike messengers for the Verti Marte Deli/Grocery. We talked for awhile and laughed and I didn't feel so bad even though I had to walk 30 minutes back to the bywater from the quarter. I'm past Elysian Fields and I meet up with Warhola and August, both drinking, I'm sure the car experience was traumatizing. Warhola and I figured out how to get all of our laundry together and carry it the 7 blocks to the laundrymat on our bikes/longboards. We spent like two hours there, there was so much laundry, and came back and August just bitched and bitched! We had such a nice little greek dinner and started drinking whiskey while waiting the hour for the giant dryer to finish. It sucked so much. I just went outside and smoked compulsively as August BITCHED AND BITCHED. I am/was so angry. It was just a shitty day. But that's how this city flows. It's a Scorpio city, sometimes it loves you, sometimes it fucks you. Tommorow will be beautiful, and tomorrow will erase all of these bad memories. And in the mean time, I'll just drink some more.

WARHOLA'S FACTORY, THE BYWATER, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA.

1. my kitchen, dirty as fuck.

2&3. me in my tiger army necklace, compliments of jenna from veggieboards.com

4&5. the lavatory.

6. the factory.

7. august's room.

8. the factory/augusts computer.

9. baby cakes archimedes passed out on our bed.

10. warhola and i's room.

11. room - can you see our two longboards?!?!?!? :D

12. my little slice of our room - my vanity.

13. bathroom, again.

yeah this is how i live.

i'll put on my sunday best.

I finally saw the pictures from Stacey Marie's wedding. I fucking cried. I wish I could have been there, it looked so beautiful. Work today was incredibly busy, ahh it was insane and Fanta (owner/"Mama"/main cook) was the only one there, so I had to do some prep, which was really gross, I haven't touched meat in years and suddenly I was peeling shrimp and baking chicken. It's a very matriarchal place and I like it. Kerry Leigh just called me and told me that Stephen Colbert was on NPR. She isn't that bad, sometimes. Stephen Colbert is fucking rad. Anyway. Work was fucking stressful as shit, I don't know how many of you have been waitresses, but when a table has 10 people, you feel like your head is going to explode. But I made 70$ in tips which is fucking badass, so I have more than 5cents in my bank account. I got home from work and found that Warhola bought me a new bath towel, matching poofy sponge thing, and a bottle of pomegranate mango bathwash. It made me so happy. And then he poured me a strong brandy drink and ahhh what a perfect way to end the day. He went to work, The Port of Call and he'll be there until midnight but ahh I'm nice smelling and clean and hanging out with Stephen Colbert on the radio and Archimedes. And my brandy. I got work off for when Thomas and Tony will be here, all the way from RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE to the first of Novemeber. Hopefully I will have enough money so that I can enjoy a whole week off, but I haven't missed a single day of work since I got both of my jobs, so they can fucking suck it. When August goes out to do his laundry I'm going to take pictures of the house for you lovelies. I'm pretty happy, getting drunk, but whatever the fuck, I don't give a shit, this city is made of functioning alcholics, or barely functioning drunkards, so you know what, I blend in. HHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAH. I love NPR. and this awesome pasta I made last night with warhola. word. Pictures later, hot stuffs. What the hell do I name my house? Oh yeah, it's the factory. Goodnight.

just wait awhile.

Work was boring as fucking shit today. I made very little money and it was so slow. It poured rain all day, so not a single person came in until I only had an hour left. But now I have more than 5 cents in my bank account. Shakor is coming to give me the 100$ he owes me for this weekend and then I'll be sittin pretty. Kerry Leigh is such a fucking cunt sometimes, I wanted to kill her this morning. She used to work the same job that I'm working now, but they were bitches to her. I explained, ITS AN AFRICAN RESTURANT RUN BY TWO WOMEN FROM UGANDA. They obviously aren't going to open up to you. This morning I was exhausted as fuck and said "thank god i like my job, i'm happy going into work this morning." She said "You are only happy because you don't know any better."
And I thought I was going to kill her and cry at the same time. I even brought her a book she wanted to read that I got back from my dads. I am not going to see her for awhile until I cool off. I got to work and turned on CNN and I swear to god, I saw Danzig getting tackled by the police over and over at the anti Columbus day shit. Black bandana tied around his face and blue jeans fitting like a glove. I called him to see if it was him and he didn't answer. Talk about scary. Warhola and I are both really tired and Archimedes slept with us last night!!!!!!!! and we are going to take a nap once I can convince August to shut the fuck up and do something more productive with his life. I had a funny little dream about Cherelle last night (Tattooed Man on my myspace). We were rowing in a kiddie pool in the ocean looking for europe and things kept falling out of our purses and I would dive in to get them. Yeah it was really cute and I don't know if we ever found Europe. I think I'm going to get drunk have sex and then fall asleep.

I've got first dibs on cassandra, damnit.

She knows what I'm talking about.

Talked to Tony alot today too.
It was so weird.

non profit is another word for HOLD ME, i'm lonely!

I went to Mandeville today with Warhola to get the last of my things from my father, including my cat. I went in, and he was passed out on the couch with a beer in his hand. I got most of my things out before he woke up, but hauling my record player out woke him up. It was raining really hard and Warhola was wearing a 3 piece suit (?!) and drenched. He was civil, and I told him "I'm taking the cat." I had missed my dear Archimedes so much. We got him in the car and he must be stressed/something else because the hair on his back legs is really thin :( and it makes me sad. So I'm going to take him to the vet when I can. But I also got one of my most prized items back, ever. Most of you journal ladies haven't seen it. I do have a white wig. It's so awesome. Warhola is at work and I'm pretty happy. Even though I'm worried about Archimedes and pissed off as fuck at August for not getting (nor looking) for a job. But I can tell that it's getting to Warhola too, we aren't going to support him to play computer games all day. Which is what he does. From when he wakes up to when he goes to bed. Doesn't even stop to make food. Only stops to bug me for cigarettes, which he won't be getting anymore of. He owes me almost a carton already. And 175$. I am not going to say anything to him all night tonight, and just wait paitently for Warhola to get home from the Port of Call. How can you live in the greatest city on earth and not want to go out all the time? He has only been out once since moving here, ONCE. And that was with me. I don't count going to the Port of Call to bother Warhola for free booze going out. Not at fucking all. Oh wait, the monster is stirring. Getting something to eat, I imagine. I don't know if this is the city for August. He doesn't care about anything "New Orleans" like at all, much less anything that is constructive. I mean, he's a nice guy, when he's not cold as shit to me. We just split a cigarette and talked about stereo equipment, tons of which, my father gave to me. That whole thing just depresses the shit out of me, my father obviously cares so much about me but he just can't get his shit together to not be homeless in a year or in jail. I don't know what to do about that. Hahaha it's quite cool to see how I upheaved all of you from greatestjournal. GREATESTJOURNAL IS FOR SUCKAS. :D I'm happy. I'm happy with Warhola, with our house, with Archimedes, even with August when he isn't being a douche. God I love it.

now i know how joan of arc felt.

I can't believe things like this decide to show up when everything seems to be going great. Danzig calling and leaving Hand in Glove on my answering machine. Then I'm suddenly confronted with, how much other shit of his is with me. Letters, tapes. You never forget your first. No one can certainly forget mine, we almost burned Denver down alive. Anytime I fuck anyone that isn't him, there is the scar there from him, carved into my inner thigh like sin. It's bothersome. The whole thing was a bizarre strange trip, one of which I have not fully recovered. If I let it, anything can remind me of something we did, something we took, something he said to me. Even the profile song on mahspace is tinged, spoiled. Anytime I wore my karen o red dress, Danzig would slip on the misfits voice and say "SHE LOOKS SO GOOD IN RED." I can't escape my own memories or preoccupied visions of what happened. It just happened. And then I just got on a train and hopped half way across the country without saying anything to him until I was 20 minutes away from departure, because 20 minutes no one can get downtown, much less a boy on a skateboard who has to take the bus or the lightrail. It's just silly. SILLY. What a shitty way to destroy something that gave you life again. After all, no one had hugged me, touched me, let alone kissed me in years before he came along. And for that, I am grateful. But it's just...

sad now. I can't keep crying off and on because Warhola thinks he did something wrong and I can't just say, ITS BECAUSE THIS SONG. She looks so good in red! Or it's because his birthday is coming up! It's just too strange.

dear, mr. evans...

I'm demanding and it's an issue. Today I work at the art gallery and I'm kind of woozy from my friend Evan Williams. A half a little pint is only 4 dollars so its dangerously addictive. I exhausted Warhola last night and I wasn't even done.
Boo. I don't know why this is the whiskey of New Orleans. There is nothing particularly striking about the taste, colour or smell. It's just that popular. I've gotten to the point where I can just drink it straight from the bottle. This city is just made up of functioning alcoholics. That's all.

I rebel, therefore, we exist.

"I rebel, therefore we exist." Albert Camus has to be one of my favourite authors of all time. Rebellion has been picked over and fucked and strangled and obsessed over for so long, that no matter what I said, it would sound like an echo of something that Camus said or that blah blah said, or that who ever the fuck said. Teen rebellion, women, Jews, blacks, dykes, fags. I identify with all of them and none of them at the same time. Does this mean that their existance creates my rebellion? They fought for something that existed before, but was not recognized by people outside, but the strife that unites the victim is the same strife that unites the victim with the executioner, but the tends to not know it. The pain of the Jews in Dachau was the same that the confused forced 17 year old S.S. boys felt, just with different vocabulary words. Does that open up issues to civil conversations? Does that erase the idea of born bias and prejudice? Can the NAACP see that the backwood motherfuckers who hang nooses in trees with strange fruit dangling from them hurt as bad as they do? There are always higher powers of oppression. Unfair tax systems that keep the white trash (cannon fodder - Irish descendants) in a position to hate each other because they are fighting for the same shitty jobs in poverty. Lack of education = lack of oppurtunity = lack of constructive out put for negative feelings = racism and hatred.

Now, how do people rebel metaphysically? How to rebel against something that is intangible to some people - God, Creator, Alternate Universes, our fate/place in life are rather large abstract concepts. If rebellion is just the affirmation of ideas, rights, values that are part of everyman, how can you do the same with something like God, with say, an atheist? A polytheist? How can metaphysical rebellion reach everyone and be a part of everyone? The only crime is excess, everything else is just mistakes. No crime, no sin. "A rebel is not an atheist, he is a blasphemer." Blaming God as the creator of death, and that life is incomplete because of death and wasteful because of our world filled with evil, and God is the vengeful force behind all of it. How do you rebel against an incomplete and wasteful life? To think that you can rid the entire world of evil is silly and naive. Isolation is not suggested, although a respite of 5 years to hide in the woods and do nothing but read sounds fantastic. This, still doesn't rid the world of evil. Is that even a valid stance for people, rebel boys and girls, to grapple with? Does the actual tangible rebellion hold more weight, should we address those first? Or can we not address one without the other?


I'm just a girl waitressing at an African resturant and dealing art on the weekend. What the fuck do I know. I'm just waiting for Warhola to get home so I can drink alot of bourbon straight and forget that I wrote this entire thing on a half empty check pad at work today.

Why the fuck do I enjoy drinking so much? It's a pain in the ass to wake up with a headache. It rained last night, pretty hard and it was annoying once again to be woken up by Warhola, needing to roll the windows up on his car. I was just annoyed by everything last night. Shauna's 27th birthday was yesterday, and Kerry Leigh and I dropped 40 dollars each on a vintage 1920s cloiche hat that she flipped her shit over. I was just tired and cranky but it made me happy to give it to her and see her so happy. She helped me out so much when I was new to the city. So I drank some pineapple stoli's and raced Warhola home on my bike. I won, of course (parking in new orleans is worse than death) and suddenly just wanted to evaporate. I'm working 7 days a week for the next fucking 2 weeks and I know I'm going to lash out at August if he isn't working at all, much less even kindof as hard as I am. Which I know won't be happening, but I can dream, right? I'm awake and showered and ready now, when everyone else is still sleeping, despite my hangover and lack of self ____. I just am so angry lately. I feel the swings of a manic episode taking me in. I won't show Warhola this, because I am just a fucking hurricane of emotion and weirdness sometimes, and I'm sure he wouldn't be able to deal with me/it. Which is kind of sad because I like the kid. Not really love, because love is not loving, but I like him and don't want to fuck him up with my unbalanced mental history. I have to start reapplying for school. I don't want to go back to school at all, but I don't want to end up like my parents, working shit for the rest of their lives. I mean, I like learning. I liked taking super high level political theory classes and kicking ass in them. I liked my women's study classes. It's all the, it's all the fucking papers. Or something. Can we just sit and talk about them? Because if you can have a serious discussion about something, that proves you know a little more about it than if you can just write a paper with tons of quotes from the internet. Right?
Shit. I need some coffee and a cigarette. I miss my cat. :(
I miss heavy drugs in general. I have only been stoned once since being down here, and haven't had any heavy drugs at all. I miss them terribly, I'd much much rather be stoned than drunk, or phased out on a xanax than drunk. I know it's not impossible to get in this city, what the fuck is my problem? Oh yeah, I'm not hanging out with anyone of my age group, and everyone else is in their 30s and think that drugs are so fucking PASSSE, which yeah, they probably are, but that doesn't mean I don't like them and would like to enjoy them every now in then. I think I'm withdrawing. I probably have already, but the constant drinking hasn't shown any symptoms. Now that I'm not really drinking, what the fuck?

yeah. Time to annoy this Warhola fellow and get some fucking coffee.

ETHICAL AND MORAL OBLIGATIONS.

I don't honestly know why I'm with this person, Warhola. It's kind of tricky, sometimes I find him attractive, sometimes I'm so repulsed by his kisses that I want to throw up. I don't know. I wrote a really long thing for him to read about it and his response was to kiss me. I felt gross.
The next day. After a night of incesteous conversations with him, I felt terrible, like I had killed part of him. He hurt. I could see it in his shining blue eyes. The way his hand slipped under his sweater, the way his pants were shoved into his untied combat boots. The timber of his voice, the forcefulness behind shooting it and putting it down. Suddenly I wanted to see him dosed by me, fucked up beyond any recogniction, my own special form of loveheroindeath turning him gray and hovering like a fog halo above his head. I wanted to see him slide in and out of my words and arms, smoke curling from his lips. Suddenly become his HEROIN HEROINE, my body addictiveand destructive, I wanted to devour him entirely. He kept talking, unaware of THE HUNGER sitting next to him, exhaling Turkish Royals. Walking under the soft almost there harvest moon, could he see that I wanted to lay on the traintracks and stick my love into the unscarred crook of his elbow? I calmed myself, everyone says to never swallow, to be swallowed. and then, the wave of violence took me. Bite to draw blood, fuck till the screams wake the roommate, feel his fingernails ripping the skin from my bones. My heart beat fast and my chest began to ache. He was still talking. It made me nervous.

I just need a good strong stiff drink.