Time Machine: Lost My Seat Again 3/19/09

[THIS WAS A VIDEO FOR A YEAH YEAH YEAHS SONG THAT DOESN'T EXIST ONLINE ANY LONGER. BOOO DRM.]

Love love love this song, for like, ever. Just recently though, I found the video. It's everything I hoped it would be. Ha.

Okay it takes me a very long time to get past things. I attribute this to the fact that I'm super sensitive, but also to the fact that it takes me so long to get into something in the first place.

There are all of these walls. I have to break them down one by one to even get excited about something.

Ironically, I'm usually only about halfway through that process before I have to start building them again. But it still takes a very long time.

Me and my bricks and my mortar. And my love songs. And jazzy outfits.

We'll be here building this wall again, thanks.

The good thing about how long it takes is that once it's done, it's done. I'm bullet proof again. That has its pros and cons, but overall I'm pleased to be able to be flippant about it.

Once the walls are back up I can start coming up with smartass responses and janky metaphors.

For instance: a few days ago my boy gave me shit about how quick my last relationship was. He squinted his eyes to make the whole thing seem smaller, but accidentally blinked and it turned into dust.

I corrected him. You see, he shouldn't have bothered to even narrow his eyes since it was dust to begin with. Flim-flam! Tomfoolery! Someone else's fucked up idea of high jinks.

Pretty funny when you see it that way, right? Let's call it a practical joke, like someone prank called my whole fucking life.

Hilarious.

*********

Tonight these people came from Facebook to my job. We spent an hour or so listening to them talk and that was cool, but better was the free drinks we got after. I sat at a table with the cool kids and got to' up.

Now I'm here. Instead of at the reggae club. This is just as well since I'm in the mood for trouble.

*********

Last night I dreamed I was hanging out with Snoop Dogg. We walked all around town arm in arm looking for his car. We were gonna drive to the top of a hill and watch the sunset, smoke some reefer.

We never got that far. But searching for it was pretty fuckin pleasing, in any case.

I hope tonight I dream about Method Man. And tomorrow: Benicio Del Toro.

Soon my waking life will be just as adventurous and romantic, yes? But I'm in no rush.

I'm busy here in my jazzy outfits, repainting the walls I just finished rebuilding. They'll be as gorgeous as ever, they will glimmer in the sunlight.

You've never seen walls as gorgeous as mine.

Ha.



I hope you've had a good night.

Good night.

There's Not a Problem My Squad Can't Fix

I dare you to make sense of this:

Last night I dreamed I was at a Busta Rhymes concert, in the very front row. He was totally giving me the eyeball, you know how that happens when you're in the front row at a rap show? Like, total vibing that feels completely on front street?

Dream me was all a-flutter. He kept winking and stuff, and giving me smiles.

Then Spliff Star announces that it's time for Busta to pick some girls to go up on stage with him. I get terrified, cause I know he's gonna pick me and I don't do that. I'm trying to duck out, but there's too many people around me.

Sure enough, he hops right off of the stage and comes up to me. I am ready to be mortified, expecting him to pull me up on the stage and start furiously grinding my ass or something. But he offers me his arm, boyfriend style. Swoon.

I take it and he walks me through the venue. I think we're going to pick out some more girls. Instead, he leads me up some stairs to a VIP area, sits down and then commands me to sit on his lap. Which I do. And we watch the rest of the concert from the balcony. It is deluxe.

End Scene.

*********

I am the consummate professional today. Checking things off of my list and wearing a power tie, even. Things are picking up, but not as quickly as I'd like. I'm still a little distracted, too.

*********



Colette of the solemn expression, the ghost writer. She says:

Rightly or wrongly, I need to respect, to be a little afraid of the man I love. I was a stranger to fear for as long as I was a stranger to love and I should have liked both to have come together.

And I fall back in my bed, swooning over how elegant she makes her obsessions sound. It is sweet instead of perverse, the way she puts it. I am charmed forever.

*********

I finished my black mini skirt last night, it's fuckin ADORABLE. Next up is a hot pink gauzy sweater, and maybe a jacket or something. I'll keep you posted. XO.

Building Blocks

Last night I dreamed I was shopping for Legos.

I worked until 1:30 at this club on 19th, it was slooooooooooooooow and I passed time playing video games and playing with my jewelry. I met this woman wearing Libra earrings, I told her my besty's a Libra and she told me her besty's a Capricorn. Then she goes


Do you mind if I ask you a kind of personal question?

No.

Are you holding any grudges against anyone?


I started wondering feverishly if it was THAT obvious. Am I really that transparent? That would be devastating, but really liberating at the same time.

Those thoughts only interfered for a second with my nodding very seriously without breaking eye contact.

How do you know?

It's a Capricorn thing. Just let it go, it only hurts you. It doesn't even affect the other person. It only. hurts. you.

Those are the random moments I honor by working in nightclubs as often as I can. I want as many moments like that one as I can get. If I could string those together and make them into my whole life, then I'd really be an artist.

So it doesn't matter that it was slow, or that I was dog tired, or that I spent most of the night thinking about day job stuff that's totally stressing me out and then spent like a third of my night's wages getting home cause I had to hire a car cause there were no taxis.

I ordered my last Bellini of the night and silently toasted that woman. And whatever else happened is inconsequential.

When I got home I made myself a snack and slept like a baby and dreamed of building blocks.

I like comic books because women are either rescuing heroes by being quintessentially feminine or kicking everyone's ass. Or even better: both. I like extremes and a lot of adventure.



And I like heroes and jazzy outfits, too.