okay i can’t seem to stop buying clothes. and it isn’t funny. i keep saying, “just this one more thing and then i won’t buy anything for a couple of months”. LIES! i say that like every week. and i just on my lunch break went and bought a pair or absurdly expensive jeans. designer jeans. that were too expensive. seriously.
i went to the place to get this sweater. that i NEEDED. but then like i needed something to try it one with that would match it. so i grabbed a pair of jeans. and oh my! they were so soft and comfy. faded and all with cute pockets and stuff.

actually, i wonder…
today i was in a hurry to get dressed. AND feeling kind fat. so i wore my fat jeans. which are this pair of jeans that are super old and have a hole in the knee and are like 3 sizes too big right now and the waste line is like huge and my belly is hanging out. they fit me at some point. and when i put them on this morning i was thinking, “holy shit, these jeans better still be too big for me”. and they were! but so like they look super sloppy. and so when i tried on the nice pants i felt all sexy and svelt.

i do solomnly swear i will not purchase any fucking more clothes for like… til next winter. at which time i will need a new pair of boots. but damn. i sooo want a pair of Dansko sandals right now.

many things in europe are weird from the states. por ejemplo:

* the water in some countries sucks
* even the bottled water
* you have to specify if you want “still” water (no fizz)
* skinny roads with lots of winding curves
* people who speak really good english still give crap ass directions
* the sodas are extra small and extra fizzy
* regular soda tastes sort of like diet
* diet soda is called “light”
* the beers are really big but still extra fizzy
* in some places the bicycle traffic is much more dangerous than cars
* too many coins – one and two euro are coins as well as the little change
* everything is served warmish, even ice cream!!

some things are uber cool and way better than at home:

* in a restaurant you do not get the check until you ask for it (long talks over coffee encouraged!!)
* most places have an english menu too
* the bathtubs are longer and deeper for more complete soaking
* down, down, DOWN on the beds, so soft!
* the chocolate rocks
* cool weird candies that you can’t get in the u.s.
* people wear the coolest clothes and are not afraid to do so!
* the drinks are usually stronger
* waitstaff earn more so tipping is not so expected
* cute european guys!!!
* cute european girls…
* they are still wearing boots here!! furry ones too!!
* they like old-ish american music (70s, 80s, etc)

i could probably pick either dublin or amsterdam and live there all the time.

i am so busy and frazzled. i spent a good 4 hours crying and freaking out on Sunday. everything caved in on me and nothing was okay. not one thing. and i am not even PMSing. i have NO excuse. (well, i do have an excuse. but i wont admit to you what it is).

oh but here’s my question.

let’s say you have done something super bad. something that reffects other people in several negative ways. and let’s say, that at the last minute, you pull your shit together and everything ENDS UP being okay.

should you get a cookie?

why in hell do people have email and then NOT CHECK IT?!

this is particularly difficult when you are far away in some weird timezone for some stupid business reason. and all you want is for someone to be like actually SITTING at their desk and HEARING Outlook go “beep” to let them know they have mail, and to READ that mail and to WRITE back. seriously. it is not something that requires research, just do it! some people i know use email like IMs.

no my cell phone does not work here. and i am fairly certain that these people who i like very much would ignore text messages anyway…

doing errands is unbelievably boring. the one thing that saves me is that i do love my car. and i have an ipod and a sun roof. a convertible would be better.

someday i will have a convertible.

when i go out for a long day of lame errands i get too hungry and have to pee and then i do stupid shit like buy too much food at the grocery store or come home with a new stereo.

why is it that guys never have to do errands?

did i tell you gys about how you should try beer, like a corona ro something like that, mixed with either sprite or with crystal lite lemonade flavor drink.

hahaha. sounds gross, eh?

omg. soooo gooooddd. trust me.

let drinking season commence!!!

other peoples lives are seeming better than mine lately.
THEY don’t live in squalor.
THEY have nice furniture like grownups are supposed to.
THEY are not a million dollars in debt with nothing to show for it but 40 pairs of shoes.
THEY always have fresh food in the fridge.
THEY cook healthy meals with that food
THEY have sparkling dinner parties at which everyone has sparkling conversation.

unlike myself who comes home from a day of squalid work to drink too many beers with my neighbors only to find myself at a 24 hour hamburger place at 11:30 on a work night buying a bacon burger with cheese and some whipits from the porn store next door then going home, scarfing the burger, doing some whipits until i pass out on the couch and they creep away to their own dark dens and then i wake up still in my clothes on the couch at 4:30. still drunk.

yep. other peoples lives seem much better than mine.

yep. that’s what i just paid to have my hair highlighted and for a “treatment” man. i didnt even ask how much the “treatment” was. fuck it! what the fuck is a “treatment” anyway?! gahhh!

but rest assured gentle readers, i will not be getting another highlight. who gives a fuck what my hair looks like? i sit a fucking cube all day!
nooooo oooonnnneee caaaresssssssss.

plus, it took four fucking hours. and all i had had to eat was a flax seed waffle. ew! so i was low blood sugar grumpy on top of my normal taciturn hair salon self. i loathe chatting with people in the hair salon. i just want them to pamper me and make me pretty. i am just not good at the girly, overly excited about everything type of girly conversatins that go in in hair salons. you know, with lots of arm waving and shrieking and giggling.

don’t get me wrong. i LIKE those girls. i am just not one of them.

but omg. my hair actually looks really good. it is subtley all these different colors! it is fluffy and bouncey!

i dont know a huge amount of people who have died. at least no one close to me (at thte time of death) has died tragiclly. i think the worst part of that would be imagining their beautiful flesh rotting underground somewhere. all the fleshing falling off piece by piece. i see it time lapse. this is why i think that cremation is the way to go. also, cremation takes up less space and is ultimatly more sanitary.

i need to write a will. i mean i do have a 401k and stuff that would need to be distributed.

does anyone eelse out there have the morbid tendency to imagine terrible things happening to people you love. the thoughts form and i have to force thm away.

addiction might be the answer. i did try to be an alcoholic once. but it didnt work out. i just couldnt keep it up. i couldnt manage to get addicted to crystal meth either. i tend to be too hyper aware of my surroundings to be able to let myself go that much. instead i developed a myriad of other only slighly more socially acceptable problems. such as obsessive compulsiveness.

i was thinking about this the other day. i was waiting for someone else to get something done so that they would be completely out of my way so that i could get on with my shit.
and that was the crux of it. i am not oc in the typical – omg, the sponge must be placed just so and the dishes must be cleaned witht his cleanser or we all die – way.
it’s more like – i have been day dreaming of drinking some milk from the carton ALL DAY, yet, when i got home some huge asshole had already drank the last of the milk – kinda way.

this sort of thing enrages me.

this negatively impacts my sex life as well. i am not carefree with my sex. i dont fling it around wantonsly in elevators or the kitchen counter anymore. i really jsut prefer bed. ya know?

i wish i could get passed this sort of minutiae.
also, i wish i could stop thinking about pretty much everything.

Main Entry: tme·sis
Pronunciation: (t&-)’mE-s&s
Function: noun
Etymology: Late Latin, from Greek tmEsis act of cutting, from temnein to cut — more at TOME
: separation of parts of a compound word by the intervention of one or more words (as what place soever for whatsoever place)

i suppose there is something about being stressed out that makes us all into selfish pricks. maybe. is it selfish to want comfort, reassurance and attention from your loved ones when you are freaking out surely not. what if you even realize that you might have to ask for it outright because the other person might be having their own issues at the moment and will need a nudge in the right direction. and what if that still doesnt work and your emails and calls go unanswered. what if this upsets me even more… or well, makes me think that she is a big fat hypocrit even more. if earlier she had been ranting about how she has “family abandonment” issues. clearly this just meant how everyone abandoned her by not falling in love with her every damn move.

There is a blog I read semi regularly, and am a lurker, that I read this morning for the first time in a while. I was struck suddenly by why I read this person. I don’t know her but I know someone who does. And she lives near me. As I read this morning everything she wrote seemed to raw somehow. So desperate and I saw the bigger picture of her life at that moment and I identified with it. she is obviously smart and sensitive. And she is crippled by anxiety and depression and minor phobias. Like me, her whole life is spent on maintenance, all her energy mental and physical.

You know, she isn’t even complaining about it really. She is.. but it is just that is what her life is every fucking day. It is just matter of fact.

about a year ago I had this huge obsession to wear pink so I bought pink everything.

one year later, now, rather- I suddenly hate it. it makes me throw up. i can’t look at it.

I have all these pink clothes and I’m going to shove them into a dark corner. or possibly dye them. I don’t know.

I just hate pink suddenly and am digging white and black and a little bit of red. solid, steady colors.

why do these color obsessions come and go?

ps. been really enjoying your posts, ellie.

cruel things people say reveal far more about themselves than about the original subject.

sometimes i def. wish i had been born into a different age. maybe one that was more “nasty, brutish and short” let’s face it, my life as it stands looks to be”nasty, brutish and way too fucking long”.

sometimes it seems like a life of hard labor in the feilds, marrying at 12, squating in the field, pausing from my labor to bear my children, living unitl 29… seems somehow preferable.

first of all that was a pretty pathetic story.
second of all, when i heard that the county or the city or whatever was going to try to sue this woman to the amount of money they spent on the search for her.. well. that just seems wronog. everything is wrong. society sucks ass and i am tired of it.

just just the whole damn thing. woman disappears. a massive huge search is immedietly launched after she is 20 minutes late getting home. why? because there are so many male, violent sexual predators out there. everyone gets all het up and righteous and searchs for her. and then they want her to PAY for it? no way. they choose to provide the service of search for her.

gee! thanks society for making me PAY for you to protect me from the assholes you have produced. fuck off!

what happens when man disappears? well, not much. the community certainly doesnt galvanize and start holding hands and praying. everyone is like, oh, bud took off again. what manly thing to do. good for him. i hope he’s off fucking some hookers (beat them up when you’re done! all men do it!) and drinking moonshine with his thumb up his butt.

really people. wtf?

incoherant as always, ellie

this morning i was up at the ass crack of dawn. dropped off at the car dealership, waiting in the rain. i rather welcomed this. it was a moment of blessed solitude and possibly a moment to become one with nature and the elements.

i started having my “i wish i could go crazy” fantasy. this is where i just have a total break down and run screaming through the streets naked. think how liberating that would be! think how my loved ones would be nice to me and take care of me! thank goodness i have loved ones!

then i started to fantasize about having a baby. if i had a baby i could quit my shitty corporate job. i would wake up early and make my husband (um. what husband?!) coffee. he would leave for work and i would take my quiet, poopless baby for a JOG. imagine that. i would have one of those 3 wheeled mega dirt bike strollers. i would be sleek already with my stretch pants on and jogging shoes. my hair would be brown and in a ponytail. i would drive somewhere with all this crap, be all competent, and then jog… and then i could like, have some lame job, like feeding peoples cats while they are on vacation. i could bring a baby for that right? i would be competent. things would work out. it would be liberating and fabulous.

except for the fact that this will never happen. let’s for a moment assume that i get married, have a husband who makes enough for me to not work (impossible in this area!!!) and i manage to actually have a baby.

so starting there already the thing is impossible. i hate jogging. i used to do it. i lived up in the hills and was fat. so i started jogging, i lost some weight and it was quite beautiful (the hills i mean). but it hurt my knees. also, i am just not the sort of person that takes things easily. everything is always hard for some reason. I hate getting up early. and i am uber grumpy in the morning.

i have no idea why things are always hard for me. i have these days where nothing goes right. and they always start with my car door hitting my leg as i try to open the absurdly heavy, unwieldy door. it doesnt fucking stay open. and it hurts when it hits your leg. essentially crushing it and any spirit i may have had stored up for the day. at that point the whole day is ruined and i mostly want to get back in the car (offensive as it might be), go home and get back in bed and stare moodily a the cobwebs on the wall. i can imagine cleaning them off, moving all the furniture, painting the walls a bright cheerful color to match my bright cheerful disposition and finishing the floor in my ultra competant i can finish a hardwood floor with one hand while the other hand goes jogging with my baby kind of way. that is so me!

i hear that boyfriends are just as good at impregnating as husbands are. so i’m thinking about poking some holes in the condoms and whoops! accidently forgetting to take my birth control.

how hard can a baby be?

treat your mother right.

oh Mr. T. i love you.

i fell asleep on the couch and dreamt that i woke up and was in a strange place. it was sort of familiar. i peeked out the window and recognized the neighborhood as the one i lived in with Charles. years and years ago. i was scared. what was i doing here? i heard some other girl had moved in a few years ago. what if she found me here?

but then it morphed into me realizing that i was in my very own house. and that the beach was not far away. i could see girl surfers out there plain as day. more girl surfers than boys! imagine! i could have a morning walk out there on the beach. maybe i know some of those girls, they would let me borrow their board for a bit.

i could run into the waves all struggling against the massive powerfulness of them. that wonderful peaceful moment when you reach the point where the waevs are smooth and not fighting you anymore. you can float on your board staring up at the sky. the decision to try for a wave. that moment when you realize you are going to catch it but that it is fucking huge and you are so fucked! and the rush of brilliant fun when, for a few seconds, you do catch it. and then the inevitable, for me anyway, moment when you eat shit and are in that underwater tumble. i cant ever help but struggle against it. i know some people say just go wioth it. dont fight it. but fuck that! i want air!

and i love getting out afterwards all wet and then put a sweater on and sit in the sand.

no one likes angsty rants. but it is pretty much all i am capable of.

how much do you want to be that when the time comes she will “not have enough money” to buy a dress or get here or her boyfriend will do something assholeish or WHATEVER. but it will become a big crisis about her. fuck that. i gave her all the information and shit and i have enough to fucking worry about.

my untrustingness of people. where has it come from? it is often unjustified. especially in his case. it’s quite hideous really. there was a fair amount of percieved abandonment from people on my part. percieved abandonment. interesting. more like, it seems like people fucking bulldoze over me at every opportunity.

when she does it it seems somehow out of scorn. a joking scorn that actually hurts quite a bit. god she did it the other day ont he phone. she was lie, oh hahah, well your friends are always pretty boring aren’t they” and i just said “wtf? that’s not true why would you say that?” and she kinda laughed and tried to pretend like she was joking. which is also kinda wtf because? what? does she want me to laugh consipiritorialy with her about how my friends are losers? i mena, about how SHE for some unknown reason thinks my friends are losers? it’s weird i tell you. i almost don’t want her there. she is just going to be an asshole. (see, there i did it again)

the other does it because she percieves it as her right. as a human right. the right of a huamn of her superior quality. and you can tell her quality is superior because she is so good at bulldozing. with her eyes closed. oh, whoops, did i run over you? i totally didn’t notice. you should have spoken up.

this is too good not to share:
emmie & ellie: aussie bush critters

possibly i just found my next tattoo…

or maybe in Japanese?

emmie yummie everyday.

this css is retarded. or maybe i am retarded.

either way i think that i complain more than other people. but i dont get it. am i also more irritable than other people? maybe so. why is this? what should i do. i dont want to be complainy and irritable all the time.

i am still thinking about publishing us. possibly a book of only haiku. and another book with selected posts which we got a really positive response to.

anybody still interested?

so within an archive page you have to click the “previous entries” link at the bottom of the page to get the rest from that month. OH-kay. i was all scared that somehow only the last week of each month’s archives survived the export…

duh…

there are times when i have an orgasm that i swear to you it is like a major life experience. meaning that i feel all these emotions i can’t even describe. it is sort of traumatic in the same way that having something awesome but huge happen is… like your boss promotes you without warning and you should be ecstatic but it is still sort of stressful. like that (only shorter).

boys really do not understand this. i think maybe because the wind blows and makes them come, their orgasms are (generally) not so intense and soul-shaking. i can have more than one, but the first one is always the most scary/lovely.

i looked at boy who was still lovingly caressing my back and shoulders and said “you really don’t get it, do you?” and he was all like, “what?” and i said “i need some time to recover” and he said “from what?” and i said “STOP TOUCHING ME”.

then i realized it was one of those in-the-moment-ego things and i said “was that an ego thing or do you really not know?” and he goes, “no, it was an ego thing.” so i said “oh. well then i have to recover from that awesome orgasm you just gave me” and he smirked because that was what he wanted to hear just then.

i still made him leave me alone though.