Some DTR...

... for people who will probably not read this.

Hey, Crazies: You are out of your flipping mind. Please go fester in your special brand of craziness elsewhere. I'm not sure what about me made you think that I would be receptive to your various neuroses, but you, as you are about many things, are ever so wrong.

Dear Wayward Acquaintances: You seem to feel no urgency in returning my correspondences, nor I yours. Perhaps I overwhelm you a bit. Unfortunately, this assumption of mine makes me even less likely to try to contact you, in turn. I'm quite certain, however, that if we resumed our tentative friendship it would pick up where it left off and be rather pleasant. Stalemate.

Oh, Select Favorites: Despite our differences, I very much enjoy your company. For whatever reason you seem to accept or be amused by my spiky defects in return for my moments of affectionate camaraderie. I hope you persevere in this patient attitude because I am undergoing an uprecendented phase of soul-consuming predatory behavior via the internet on which you met me (see above). On that magical day when the dust settles, you may very well be the last man standing.

new title?!?

weirdo: blah blah something about cutting blah
me: Cutting? GOD. That's so 90's. It's totally the poor girl's eating disorder.
me: Hey...poorgirlseatingdisorder.com!!!! Do you think it's taken!?!?

best. blog title. ever.
And no, it's not taken.

Statistically, It's not looking so hot

20: Estimated number of cute, scruffy, brown-eyed boys in Dallas.
6: Number of cute, scruffy, brown-eyed boys in Dallas that I know personally.
3: Number of cute, scruffy, brown-eyed boys in Dallas that I know personally and are available and do not appear severely mentally unhinged.
0-1: Number of cute, scruffy, brown-eyed boys in Dallas that I know personally and are probably ACTUALLY not severely mentally unhinged as opposed to faking well-adjustedness.

bones and lionesses

I've been spending a lot of my recumbent recuperation time thinking about my bones.
Wait, that sounds kinds of morbid. Start over.

Ok, so I've been sick-- just a cold, calm down-- off and on for pushing a month now and in this span of time I've lost, like, ten pounds. I'm pretty neutral on this occurrence.


Anyway, my body was already changing before that. A year older, new ink, and refined derby and yoga muscles sneaking and settling into prime position.

Only now I can see and feel this new structure.

I am sometimes surprised at my own strength, literal and figurative, but there is an unusual satisfaction in being able to see and feel the mechanism behind it-- particularly since most of my sureness of identity stems from artifice and creativity: hair, gesture, tone, costume, gait, language. Things I can control.

A note about my physiology, I carry weight pretty evenly all over my body. This works out great when I gain weight. Instead of accumulating in awkward places, it settles across my face, elbows, knees, back. My skeleton has aways been carefully concealed by a light cocoon, pleasantly even and supple, but generally the important stuff is folded away out of sight and tactility.

Now my architecture is displayed like a skyscraper, defiantly rigid against a pale, temperate sky. Stark. Modern. All upward thrust, progress. Will over physics.


These new muscles, these old bones that were hidden from me.

There is a novel, thumb-sized hollow next to my kneecap when I bend my leg at an obtuse angle. There is a strange, taut tangle of muscle the size of my palm on the top of each thigh which was formerly an undifferentiated expanse of hamstring and epidermis. I have a delicate pair of knobs perched ladylike and ovoid like bird's eggs on my wrists.

The broad, heavy spread of my hip bones is strange and precious like the archaeologist's prized skull: a mysterious artifact of an ancient and fearsome creature. The curves are audacious in their sure, solid thickness and yawn wide enough to cradle a fist.

Rather than exposed, I feel unveiled like the Sphinx unfettered from centuries of sand.

keeping occupied

I am an outline.

just gesso.
******thick, opaque chalk.

the line, however, is exquisite. ****sinuous. decisive.

I will fill it in with wet, viscous daubs straight from the knife.
********************alizarin crimson cadmium scarlet vermilion
********** ****pure pigment like blood





So, I've been painting lately. And making hats. Perhaps some pictures to come.

What Would Scarlett Do?

In the Twelve Oaks barbeque of my life, I have just shattered a vase.
Isn't this supposed to be where Rhett pops up?



Scarlett: "Why don't you say it, you coward? You're afraid to marry me. You'd rather live with that silly old fool who can't open her mouth except to say 'yes, no' and raise a couple of brats just like her! "

A Prophecy Older Than You

-or a Witch's Curse



You had a valkyrie,
a shield maiden
a warrior, death's swan.
And she demurred to you,
rested her head on your lap,
and shed immortal's tears on your behalf.

She would have raised her spear
in defence of you,
but better, she summoned her ancient squall for you.
For love
of you.

Who may dream of such a creature?
touch her,
belong to her,
possess her, the battle goddess?

You will never again behold such a woman,
never revel in such a mind,
never bask in such intensity,
never delight in such ardor,

never be as fiercely loved by anything.

Tarot

Knight of Swords: He is a young man with a clean heart and fierce courage but it does not good to confront him as he his too stubborn to listen. A young man with brown eyes and hair. Sign: Aquarius, Libra, or Gemini.

No. Shit.

Three of Swords

"These precious things,
Let them bleed,
Let them wash away.

These precious things,
Let them break
Their hold
On me."

Bedside manner

earlier today:
mom: Since you're sick, I will bring you home some soup from Central Market!
me: Thanks! *wheezes*

later today:
me: Mom, why does my soup have the label torn off?
mom: Well, it had chicken broth listed on the ingredients and I didn't want you to see it and get mad!
me: What!? You're a bag of dicks! Eh, fuck it. I'll eat it.

moments later:
me: *wheeze*What the fucking hell!!?! This has BACON in it! *kakak* You're a fucking jerk!! I'm sick and you're feeding me bacon!?!?!

later later:
mom: Ok, I'm at the pharmacy. Do you want NyQuil cold and flu or NyQuil cough? The flu one has antihistamines and the cough one has cough suppressant.
me: Whichever one doesn't have BACON IN IT!!!!!! *hack*
mom: *click*

Nonchalance

me: Eh, you're pretty cute... I'd hit it.
him: What? That's not how it works, I'd be the one hitting it.
me: Ok, well, I might let you hit it.
him: No, uh, I'd let you get it hit by me.