Lies and make believe.

"Say…have you seen the blues man?"

 It came out more as a pondering thought, similar to asking me if I smoked. I could feel him rooting around his pockets for a lighter. 

I hesitate, not sure if I wanted to engage in street philosophy. "Yes." I reply, not used to hearing the confidence soar in my voice.

"Where didya see ‘em, by chance?" His query was genuine.  My bottom was grazing the crumb laden cushion of the Yaris, while my mind was yearning for the dialogue.

"Oh, you know," I nonchalantly drawl, "everywhere. He’s all around us." Cue warm smile. 5…4…3…2... I calculate, waiting for the pitch. No one just has conversations just because, right?

"What’s your name?" His eyes, quite intensely cued on my reaction, were soft and genuine. 

"Lola."

 Lola? Was that all I had? Of all the names I fantasize about, that was my best, fake name? As I was silently cursing lack of imagination in name choice, my new hobo friend threw out another inquiry.  

"Lola, have you evah been to Atlanah, Georgia?"

" Hmmmm," as dreamily as I could dredge, "nah, I haven’t. But I’m gonna." 

That seemed to please him. 

Best quote I have read in a while

"...True literature can only exist when it is created, not by diligent and reliable officials, but by madmen, hermits, heretics, dreamers, rebels and skeptics..." 

Yevgeny Zamyatin 

A friend affixed a different quote by this gent to her status update, and I, being intrigued, yearn to discover more about him. 

Prehistoric Laurenation.

I HAVE NO MICROWAVE!

Yes, that's right!

In 2013, I JUST put a frozen dinner in the...wait..the OVEN!!

Yeah, that is correct!

I have succumbed to my frugal ways, and denied my 21st century-self convenience!

A-ha!

Wednesday afternoon.

Jam, eggs, butter-shit. Eggs, butter, jam. Yes.

I'm glad my OCD is more awake than me right now. Clumsily slapping on jam, I already forgot the well-placed order of condiments I had anally slashed off in my mind. The texture of seed and slippery white combined is an unhappy occurrence.

Sigh.

My mind unravels to far away lands...surrounded by short people that could be mistaken for robots. Maybe they are robots. They seem technologically advanced enough. That might already be happening.

A strong, southern female voice interrupted my wanderlust.

"He killed him, he killed him in COLD BLOOD".

Ah. The town cryer is back. Part of me thought she was on hiatus, especially after all that Lucifer talk that was being tossed around two days prior. Usually when one gets to proclaiming about the lord of the underworld, I think it's time for a nap. But honestly, I've really learned a lot from her. I now know that Lucifer can't mess with God's children. And, who ever "he" is, he's now dead. In cold blood.

Reality Show

"You cannot mess with God's children, Lucifer! You make horrible decisions, but the LORD still loves you, baby girl!"

Smells of charred garlic tickled my nose. At this point, I don't know why I bothered roasting brussel sprouts. The 7:16pm showing of "Drunken Evangelicals" was blurring into "Teen Mom: the Torrance edition", and I was no where near done enjoying it. Two smokes left, perfect. I lit the next to last, curious how this "episode" was going to end. The exchange was between two neighbors: an older woman, and a younger female. I was half-hoping it was a May-December relationship. The baby girl brand could really mean anything. As I continued to over analyze the exchange, the smoke alarm hinted loudly that I really should take out the charcoal formally known as brussel sprouts from the oven. 

All the single ladies.

7:48am.

Really?

Deep sighs ricochet off my lungs, reminding me to quit that youthful tobacco habit. I cough hard, knowing that should clear the issue, and make me buy ONE more pack of camels.

8:58am.

Ever since I started Lexapro, water has been the standard on my bedside table. Damn dry mouth.  I've accepted the side effect has been a fucked sleep schedule. My eyes force themselves into R.E.M land with thoughts Bukowski would be proud of.

10:29am

Is that my phone, or did I leave my vibrator on? Again.

11:37am

Should I admit I that I'm trying to prolong the fantasy land I was in for at least 20 more minutes? At least in this faraway land, the boy that I'm infatuated with doesn't tease - it's all give, and I take.

12:16pm

I work in an hour and a half. If I just rinse off, I should be able to get ready in 45 minutes. I think I have a Cliff bar to eat on the way to work.

1:04pm

Dear Febreeze, you've saved me again. I didn't forget about you, Cucumber Melon spritz: your stripper aroma is gonna save me from having to shower - but not without coworkers questioning my whereabouts last night.

1:58pm

Whoever invented Tide pens, gets my mouth around their genitals. Genius!

2:03pm

Made it. Despite my bed head that I have coined, "Beach Wave", everything turned out. Although my pervert colleague has been taking a special interest in me...I think it's gonna be a good day.

Reaching around, an attempt at a cuddle fails. I was better off fantasizing about it. Never thought I was that person, desiring human stimuli. But, here I am. Craving a unattainable feeling. More than not, we explain to ourselves ritualistically, that we are independent souls, floating where we want to be, not necessarily where we should be. Creating a world that has everything we have scoured together for a perfect fantasy, it's destruction is inevitable. We desire things we think we should have, that are "entitled" to us. Leaving that extra bit of sleep in our eyes has made our vision fragmented. Rather than force ourselves to experience people as who they are, we paint a tremendous coating of us on them, and project what we want them to be. Happiness cannot be found within a facade of ourselves.

On a Thursday.

“Wait, bro, I was sayin’ how demonic that chick was I tried sleepin’ wit last night… She put a paper mache goat head on and tried fuckin’ me wit it! Fo’ real, bro! No lie, no lie!” Forgetting to grab what I came for, this conversation makes waiting in line worth it. “nah, bro, she ain’t into Luche Libre shit, she likes, what’s that broads name? My kids are really into it-Dude, Dora the explorah?” This outlandish idea made me close to being the owner of a fitted LA Kings hat. “Nah, dude, you trippin’? Dora ain’t no skeeze bro! She classy grade A shit, not like that hookah.” I tried my best to listen- I was desperate to find out who this “hookah” was, even when the clerk impatiently demanded credit or debit. The misunderstanding that had occurred was likely due to him being desensitized to the CLEARLY genius conversation I was overhearing. The eyeroll reminded me my instinct was correct. “ Seriously tho bro, come over. I got this jacked up video of a alligator ranch, and this guy is wrestling them, and putting his hands in their moufs and shit-oh and I got some Victorias.” Before I could pretend that I forgot to pick up some chewing tobacco, the duo was already half way out the door. “Nah, nah, man. That fucked up goat chick is coming over tonight .” 

Dave Eggers

I have fallen in love with someone new. The heart palpitations came on so fast, and without doubt, I felt my affection careen elsewhere.

He's taken me places where you refuse to go, and along the way, assures me it's ok to be strange. Reminding me of my adventuresome soul, there's anecdotes that slide out-which I found offensive at first, but reassuring after I learned to breathe. 

we exist on a different plain, me and him. There's an understanding that imagination shouldn't be kept to ourselves, regardless of where it comes to life. He has chided me about the way I internalize situations, instead making good use of self-expression.

there are times when I feel that we belong to the world, not each other. Holding one another back from experiences is what we could never-EVER do. I appreciate his way with the written word, and the way he has brought light back into my soul.  

He might not know this yet, but I think he may just be the one. 

Holga cooperation photos

Holga attempts at out smarting me each time I plunge the shutter. Her sassy mouth didn't get me this time:

My parents yard in MN

Might not be the BEST, but I dug it.

Pioneer-town, CA

The first shot was a Gargoyle, the second, the church

Appreciated how this double exposure turned out

Pesky light leaks

Already at December, excuses are flowing like the 405 at 3am. Projects I haven't finished that need completing - a friend commented: ghosts of hobbies past. which I have nick named the other space in my apartment where the shells of ideas and projects lay. Reprimanding myself has done no good, and there has yet to be motivation. My procrastination was cast aside when the ukelele I added to the pile knows what a G7 feels like...not sure what to do with all this extra serotonin.

Things I continue to lie to my self about

1. Finishing what I started:  I LOVE the first phase of deciding to learn a language/play an instrument/learn a new craft/read. When I decide to something, I really am enthusiastic. I tell everyone, half hoping the spread of my new hobby will encourage me to success. When I was asked a month ago how my Arabic was going, I responded: schwayay-schwayay (little by little) which was met by approving nods, and praise for my foray into migraine inducing linguistics. Little do they know, that was the only word I retained.

2.  I have lots of passion for what I do: The only thing I have it for is the one thing I can't have...a houseful of cats.

3. enrolling in a MMA or yoga class:  Surrounded by other people, sweating. Self-explanatory.

4. I'm going to write a blog entry that does not include a list:  Sarcasm not required. You already know it's not going to happen.

5. Finish all the drafts in my blogger:   refer to number 2.

Book Club!!

My coworkers and I, well, my coworker announced that we should have a "Star Wars" book club. After much debate, and interjection about needing some Wicket (he may have an untold biography out there), we settled on Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith. Apparently, my Ewok or Wookie suggestion was ignored, and abused. I didn't think it was that possible to conjure up that much stink eye from one person. Noted.

The e-book is free online, even though I am quite the stalwart supporter of regular old books. I will see how long I will be able to read this on my phone. I foresee that I will break down and buy this softcover book...I'll be known as Darth Impetuous by noon tomorrow.

When I learn to play the piano, I'm coming back, and stealing this one.

Zuma beach snapshots

I prefer the company of a paintbrush and a blanket, over a wetsuit and a cold ocean. After wandering the beach for my spot, I plunked my sack of activities down, and enjoyed the salt and the scene.

 

When you see a billboard with a seductive lass on roller skates, lounging in a hip, swim suited pose, waiting for a refreshing(?) beverage to gush; you start wondering if you are in need of this. Or really, is she selling a swimsuit? I always need another one of those. I finally bought another one last year, and have high hopes that this one is going to last. Ok, so this Cockta, I was very curious about this fab soda that I had seen around town(s). We had arrived at a cafe in Split, and scanning the usual suspects I realized I was in need of something rare...beautiful...refreshing...energetic. My blues hovered around this mystical beverage. So mysterious, I cleared my throat of uncertainty and announced my new beverage adventure to the waiter. Aha! I bet you thought I was going to order beer, or coke, as I eyed him up, embarrassingly waiting for his surprise. Or dismay. I just wanted some flicker in his eye of pride, or happiness that someone was ordering a beverage from the neighboring country, and not some Coca-Cola, or Pepsi. I live in my head a bit much, and perhaps I am just used to people in the U.S. getting excited about a character wanting something different. Or possibly it is a very popular beverage and it is ordered every few minutes so this is not unusual, and I am really over analyzing this moment in my mind...affirmative. Once the drink came to the table, I clung on to the berry flavor, and lamented on how it reminded me of OK soda. My partner had no clue what I was talking about since I lived in a test market, and had the chance to experience things he wasn't privy to. Suicide, or all the flavors combined. I got a raised eyebrow on the former. Apparently, that's not a tempting picture. I shrugged him off, watching the ill described soda slowly trickle into his mouth. I was crossing my fingers that drinking it would induce a roller skating bonanza! which would be me on skates trying to make it happen on cobbled stones. Sad for me, hilarious for everyone else. Someday Cockta, someday.

Night time on the Danube

To say I had an amazing time on my trip is an understatement. Presently, I am not sure there is an adjective that could properly define my adventure. Although I will say one: frustrating. I wished so badly that I could communicate with all these brilliant people I came across. I was fortunate to be a anglophone in this instance, as many spoke it as their second language. Two, there was some self-damnation for having a camera that lacked a viewfinder. Santa already has my wish list for Xmas 2012.

I will kill you.

If there's no more posts, now you know.