Gonna be the five year anniversary of Sept 11th in 24 minutes.
All night I’ve had the song “Head Spin” by that goth rocker Lucas who’s on Rock Star (Supernova) playing in my head. I watch the show for the brief glimpses I get of Tommy Lee, who is so goddamn sexy, but like Jbean says, once he opens his mouth, well, you cringe because he is so dumb and speaks only in gruff one word catch phrases.
The past week went by pretty quickly. 4 days at the new job, 2 of them teaching, going all right I think. I have two disabled students in my Reading class, and one suffers from involuntary spasms. I asked the class what internal distractions they face while reading, and he called out SEIZURES! HA! I love a student with a sense of humor! I couldn’t hear him though. I said, “Caesars? What?” Dumbass! I need to listen more closely. The whole class called out SEIZURES! Ay ya! I think I’m getting their attention in English class though. We talked a lot last class. I have to get them more involved in the next class.
I’ve been thinking about my friend a lot. He’s really sweet and awesome; really, he’s one of the most thoughtful and since guys I know. His wife is divorcing him for what I think is a reprehensible reason, although if I knew her maybe I’d understand a bit better. But I don’t know. I don’t know that I ever want a traditional, long term relationship, but to drop someone like my friend just seems ludicrous, especially because he didn’t cheat on her or anything that would spur most people to divorce court. I just feel sad, and I’m amazed that he is as functional as he is. I would not be. People treat each other so shitty. I hate it. It’s all I’ve been hearing about lately, although I did spend some time with my married friends who are the role model couple. Gives me a bit of hope, but they’ve known each other forever, and they hadn’t dated a lot of other people so their heads didn’t get fucked up by being fucked with by the other people they didn’t. Not to say it’s easy for them to maintain such a healthy relationship, but I just mean they haven’t been poisoned like some people have. I just block out my feelings. It’s easier that way. Or I blow them out of proportion. Anything to make them less real.
Anyway, so I met my friend back in 1994 when we were both really lefty political PC basement punx. I’ve been rethinking the past a lot since we hung out last Saturday, reading journals and stuff. I regret being so focused on fitting punk police‘s standards, but I don’t regret being passionate about music or politics, even though I yelled about what I believed and tried to force my views on people. I would’ve been more effective if I had calmed the fuck down a bit, but I was (am) smart, and passionate, and those are good, good characteristics.
We went to Chicago on Friday. My friend had her first art opening. Her work is really cool. I hate driving in Chicago, really, really I do, unless it’s in Logan Square after 2am, but I like going down there once in awhile. The energy level is so flat, though. It’s strange. There’s some places, some dive bars, restaurants, and museums of course, that I enjoy, but I really don’t think I’d want to live there again. Taking the CTA and/or driving in that traffic frequently would wear me down fast. We checked out a few other galleries but I didn’t really see anything that impressed me. Her work was actually my favorite, friend or not! They took me to this bar Skylark that offered $2.50 Point beers, which I enjoyed. Totally my kind of place. I’d never been to Pilsen before. Seemed allright. Driving driving to Wicker Park, Gold Star flooded with hipsters. No way. Out the door to Phyllis’s and stupid Pete was there. Dumb fucking ass. I wanted to kick him in his shins hard, and I was wearing my boots! But I managed to abstain. Drove back to Uptown, got caught in obnoxious, unbearable east Division St traffic. It’s where Mothers bar is. Such wanna bes all trying so hard to have a good time partying on a Saturday night in Chicago. Going out on the weekends never was that fun. Thurs, Suns were better. I had to get up at 8am to plug my meter. That’s why I can’t live there. That kind of shit.
In the morning the guys watched soccer and me and Heidi chit chatted while she made yummy eggs and chicken appley sausages from Whole Foods. I’m so jealous of their apartment, but someday….
I didn’t sleep well. When we got back to Milwaukee, I ended up sleeping from 2pm-6pm, then I had to wake my ass up, shower, and get down to Racine for my friend’s graduation party. Lots of family and kids there. So different from our old punk rock scene. One person from it’s dying from cancer. He might have died from crack and heroin, but it looks like it’s gonna be cancer. Fucked up. Benito was so lit up; he flashed his dimple and giggled his drunken Benito giggle all night, kept telling me how fond of me he is. We‘ve known each other about 15 years now. He has these pictures of me and I truly did look like my namesake/nickname, Marcie from Peanuts. Bob and huge, I mean HUGE dorky glasses. Tights under shorts, Pixies tee shirt velvet biker jacket and pleather punker boots cuz I didn‘t wear leather (I was a member of PETA back then). All of his brothers were there and they all have those damn cute as hell dimples. Paul’s is kind of hidden, but it’s there. I had my first S’more in years. We tried playing Ouija board with Benito’s nephew, who’d just finished his first week in high school, but it was too loud, too many distractions, and I don’t believe in that game anymore. I told him he and his friends needed to go play it later in a quieter environment where they could concentrate.
When I got home I smelled strongly of bonfire. It sort of distracted me while I slept, but I was too lazy and way, way, way too tired to shower. It wasn’t so bad. Tony told me I was cute. I think I blushed. He’s so quiet and then he tells me I’m cute. Haha. I’m glad people love me. I love people but bury my feelings a lot. Don’t convey it.
Today there were two bizarre incidents. Rebecca and I walked her dog down Brady St and over to the lake, near the art museum. A kite festival was going on and people were flying some cool, huge kites shaped like squids, centipedes, and scorpions. On the way back, on the other side of Lincoln Memorial Dr, a person dressed like a clown whizzed by on a little motorized car, looked over in our direction with that freshly painted, garrish, scary clown face complete with the drawn on smile, and then looked away. The day was overcast, and I’d just been talking with Heidi about the clown in Stephen King’s book It. *Shiver*.
Bec was gonna make us Bloody Marys, but she needed some tomato juice. I held her dog while she waited in the long line at Walgreen’s. When she came out, we had to pass the tiny terrier variation dog tied by the garbage can. The little midget fuck lunged at Ruby, revealing its sharp dagger teeth, snarling fiercely, and I do mean fiercely for a little rat of a dog. Then its leash slipped from the garbage can, and tried to bite Bec! But I grabbed the leash and managed to pull it away. Crazy little fuck. I wanted to go find its owner to tell him or her that the dog wasn’t securely fastened to the pail, and the owner was older and bat shit crazy. The dog’s name was Peanut. I petted it. It was like Jeckel and Hyde dog. Super awful then super cute. Brady St is still so full of freaks.
All night I’ve had the song “Head Spin” by that goth rocker Lucas who’s on Rock Star (Supernova) playing in my head. I watch the show for the brief glimpses I get of Tommy Lee, who is so goddamn sexy, but like Jbean says, once he opens his mouth, well, you cringe because he is so dumb and speaks only in gruff one word catch phrases.
The past week went by pretty quickly. 4 days at the new job, 2 of them teaching, going all right I think. I have two disabled students in my Reading class, and one suffers from involuntary spasms. I asked the class what internal distractions they face while reading, and he called out SEIZURES! HA! I love a student with a sense of humor! I couldn’t hear him though. I said, “Caesars? What?” Dumbass! I need to listen more closely. The whole class called out SEIZURES! Ay ya! I think I’m getting their attention in English class though. We talked a lot last class. I have to get them more involved in the next class.
I’ve been thinking about my friend a lot. He’s really sweet and awesome; really, he’s one of the most thoughtful and since guys I know. His wife is divorcing him for what I think is a reprehensible reason, although if I knew her maybe I’d understand a bit better. But I don’t know. I don’t know that I ever want a traditional, long term relationship, but to drop someone like my friend just seems ludicrous, especially because he didn’t cheat on her or anything that would spur most people to divorce court. I just feel sad, and I’m amazed that he is as functional as he is. I would not be. People treat each other so shitty. I hate it. It’s all I’ve been hearing about lately, although I did spend some time with my married friends who are the role model couple. Gives me a bit of hope, but they’ve known each other forever, and they hadn’t dated a lot of other people so their heads didn’t get fucked up by being fucked with by the other people they didn’t. Not to say it’s easy for them to maintain such a healthy relationship, but I just mean they haven’t been poisoned like some people have. I just block out my feelings. It’s easier that way. Or I blow them out of proportion. Anything to make them less real.
Anyway, so I met my friend back in 1994 when we were both really lefty political PC basement punx. I’ve been rethinking the past a lot since we hung out last Saturday, reading journals and stuff. I regret being so focused on fitting punk police‘s standards, but I don’t regret being passionate about music or politics, even though I yelled about what I believed and tried to force my views on people. I would’ve been more effective if I had calmed the fuck down a bit, but I was (am) smart, and passionate, and those are good, good characteristics.
We went to Chicago on Friday. My friend had her first art opening. Her work is really cool. I hate driving in Chicago, really, really I do, unless it’s in Logan Square after 2am, but I like going down there once in awhile. The energy level is so flat, though. It’s strange. There’s some places, some dive bars, restaurants, and museums of course, that I enjoy, but I really don’t think I’d want to live there again. Taking the CTA and/or driving in that traffic frequently would wear me down fast. We checked out a few other galleries but I didn’t really see anything that impressed me. Her work was actually my favorite, friend or not! They took me to this bar Skylark that offered $2.50 Point beers, which I enjoyed. Totally my kind of place. I’d never been to Pilsen before. Seemed allright. Driving driving to Wicker Park, Gold Star flooded with hipsters. No way. Out the door to Phyllis’s and stupid Pete was there. Dumb fucking ass. I wanted to kick him in his shins hard, and I was wearing my boots! But I managed to abstain. Drove back to Uptown, got caught in obnoxious, unbearable east Division St traffic. It’s where Mothers bar is. Such wanna bes all trying so hard to have a good time partying on a Saturday night in Chicago. Going out on the weekends never was that fun. Thurs, Suns were better. I had to get up at 8am to plug my meter. That’s why I can’t live there. That kind of shit.
In the morning the guys watched soccer and me and Heidi chit chatted while she made yummy eggs and chicken appley sausages from Whole Foods. I’m so jealous of their apartment, but someday….
I didn’t sleep well. When we got back to Milwaukee, I ended up sleeping from 2pm-6pm, then I had to wake my ass up, shower, and get down to Racine for my friend’s graduation party. Lots of family and kids there. So different from our old punk rock scene. One person from it’s dying from cancer. He might have died from crack and heroin, but it looks like it’s gonna be cancer. Fucked up. Benito was so lit up; he flashed his dimple and giggled his drunken Benito giggle all night, kept telling me how fond of me he is. We‘ve known each other about 15 years now. He has these pictures of me and I truly did look like my namesake/nickname, Marcie from Peanuts. Bob and huge, I mean HUGE dorky glasses. Tights under shorts, Pixies tee shirt velvet biker jacket and pleather punker boots cuz I didn‘t wear leather (I was a member of PETA back then). All of his brothers were there and they all have those damn cute as hell dimples. Paul’s is kind of hidden, but it’s there. I had my first S’more in years. We tried playing Ouija board with Benito’s nephew, who’d just finished his first week in high school, but it was too loud, too many distractions, and I don’t believe in that game anymore. I told him he and his friends needed to go play it later in a quieter environment where they could concentrate.
When I got home I smelled strongly of bonfire. It sort of distracted me while I slept, but I was too lazy and way, way, way too tired to shower. It wasn’t so bad. Tony told me I was cute. I think I blushed. He’s so quiet and then he tells me I’m cute. Haha. I’m glad people love me. I love people but bury my feelings a lot. Don’t convey it.
Today there were two bizarre incidents. Rebecca and I walked her dog down Brady St and over to the lake, near the art museum. A kite festival was going on and people were flying some cool, huge kites shaped like squids, centipedes, and scorpions. On the way back, on the other side of Lincoln Memorial Dr, a person dressed like a clown whizzed by on a little motorized car, looked over in our direction with that freshly painted, garrish, scary clown face complete with the drawn on smile, and then looked away. The day was overcast, and I’d just been talking with Heidi about the clown in Stephen King’s book It. *Shiver*.
Bec was gonna make us Bloody Marys, but she needed some tomato juice. I held her dog while she waited in the long line at Walgreen’s. When she came out, we had to pass the tiny terrier variation dog tied by the garbage can. The little midget fuck lunged at Ruby, revealing its sharp dagger teeth, snarling fiercely, and I do mean fiercely for a little rat of a dog. Then its leash slipped from the garbage can, and tried to bite Bec! But I grabbed the leash and managed to pull it away. Crazy little fuck. I wanted to go find its owner to tell him or her that the dog wasn’t securely fastened to the pail, and the owner was older and bat shit crazy. The dog’s name was Peanut. I petted it. It was like Jeckel and Hyde dog. Super awful then super cute. Brady St is still so full of freaks.
posted by Jen Threat at
10:25 PM
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