Holy blog updates Batman! A real post!

So, while I have fallen off the earth somewhat since the plague, it is not because I have been lame and had nothing to report. On the contrary, since my last post, there has been all sorts of excitement.
I saw Matt, which was excellent. I went to the Steampunk World's Fair with George and Mike and a couple of their friends (also highly excellent and an excuse for a corset and the top hat- win!) Excellent photos on Facebook... mike spent much of the day stalking me like I was a wild animal in an attempt at gaining photos which were 1) not full of me giving the finger and 2) good. He was successful. Also, we discovered Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band, and let me tell you. There is so much happy to be had in a 2 am impromptu hotel parking lot dance party with 150 people in steampunk outfits raving like maniacs to a big band jazz cover of "sexyback". Best. Party. Ever.
Last week, I saw Ovo which was really good, even the clowns were funny (a minor circus miracle) and Stuffed and Unstrung, which turned out to be enjoyable despite the attendant drama. Met up with Kate Tracy and Christopher and Sophie on Saturday, expedition to bra shopping and lunch, then Kate came home with me, and Sunday we drove to Vassar to collect her stuff. Unfortunately, everything that could go wrong in car rental did go wrong, so we didn't get there until 4:30ish and didn't really get to see people. We did get furniture, and then we had a couple days of hanging out/ art party. Yesterday we collected Christopher and all went to MoMA for Marina Abromovic's "The Artist is Present". It was... interesting. Not the art I want to make, but it does make you think. If anything can be art, then maybe everything is art, and I don't know where I'm going with this. More thinking is required. But I don't want strangers to be allowed to use knives, whips, sugar cubes, etc on me with impunity. That sounded awful. I've never been nervous about a grape before. Great Wall of China walks as break up tools yes, carving the communist star into my tummy no.
I've also been making lots of art! Lots and Lots and LOTS. But I only have pictures of things from before this week, as my camera battery needs to charge, so anything I hadn't already photographed will have to wait. Still a huge art dump.
Book Of Dreams
April EnVision Collage

Have I mentioned that sometimes I hate my body?

Spontaneity! (I know it's misspelled, I figured going to look it up would be contrary to the point)

I used an Ovo ad, so it folds open. which is awesome. 

Sponteneity is Humility in face of the awe of the Univere's power. (David object that this is not accurate, and it should be "the capriciousness of the universe" or some such. He's a pain.)

And then it folds down, to fit more awesome. (The thing in the curve of the moon is a tiny tarot card- The Fool, for beginnings, possibilities and the unknown.)

May EnVision Collage

Page on Shadow and Light aspects of Self. 

In the subway passage at the Bryant Park F/V/7 there's a mosaic of roots and such that inspired this sketch ages ago... finally went over it with pen so it was visible. 

Yes, the leaves are eyes. All of them. It took ages.

Yeah... I may dislike my period. Just a little. 

How to Fight Lonliness

This was for the May art journal challenge. I'm not even showing the rest of the things becasue this is already a huge art dump and I don't like them that much. The prompt for this one was cut an interesting edge into a page (which I'd never done before and really liked). 

This is why I should remember to update regularly. I'm leaving things out, and still no one cares because it's way too long. I'm skipping over a painting and several more art journal pages that don't please me all that much. The painting I started today is looking really good so far, and my art journal pages came out nicely. So with any luck I'll post those soonish. 

And that's my story. And then I found $5, ate a bowl of cereal, fought batman, and we got naked. The end. 

...And sometimes, you fly

Yesterday, I was going to do a "Spontaneity is humbleness in the face of the Awesomeness of the Universe" page, but I got distracted first by looking for pics of the Riddler that weren't too cartoony so I could start thinking about character sketches for the comic Steve wrote, which I offered to draw for him, because the sketches I started on the train into the city are terrible.
Riddle me this: Why does my Riddler look like anime Snape?

Because I have no feeling for the Riddler, and the realism skills of a 3rd grader.
and then that morphed into a plan for a page on the previously mentioned 3rd option. Given that my plan was to do a page about spontaneity, it seemed silly to not be spontaneous.
Based off this page from Fables & Reflections

I have created this version (Pitt Pens and gesso and watercolor)

Which I'm actually very pleased with. Rarely do I finish a page and think, "hmm, that's actually good. If this were a real painting and not a page in my journal, someone might buy this" but I have that feeling about this page. Dunno how much it really counts, since it's not all that original, being largely ripped from the actual Sandman illustration, but I like it. Perhaps one day, when I get my act together, I'll turn it into a real piece in a format I could actually sell.

Last week I was enjoying the glory of spring and did a mixed-media (pitt pens, watercolor pencils, stamps, ink, acrylic, collage paper, real flowers and gesso) piece based on that. Some parts I'm really happy with, others not so much.

In Other News: There was CAKE. It was glorious. Chocolate Strawberry Moouse Cake FTW

God, that looks like the whole top of the cake is on fire... George must be really old. But no, it's only a dozen candles. They're just really bright. 

(The cake is delicious, but it might have benefited from not needing to be transported from New Ro to Brooklyn, as it got slightly squished and melty in transit)

Recipe:
Cake (adopted from the internet):
1c coffee
1c milk
8oz pureed Strawberries
4 egg whites
2c flour
2t vanilla
2c sugar
3/4c baking cocoa
2t baking soda
1t baking powder
1/4t salt

Combine coffee, milk, strawberries, vanilla and egg whites. Mix well.
Combine flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Add to wet mix.
Beat 2 min until well blended.
Bake at 350 in two 9-in rounds (buttered and floured) for 30-35 min

Moouse (my family's chocolate moouse recipe):
4 eggs, separated
8oz bittersweet chocolate
vanilla, grand mariner, or coffee to perfume
2c heavy cream

Whip egg whites
Whip cream and perfume
Melt chocolate
Temper chocolate with egg yolks, then combine and mix well.
Fold chocolate mix into egg whites and cream. Fold, do not mix, or you'll lose the fluffyness.
Refrigerate at least 4 hours, preferably overnight to set. Can be frozen.

Chocolate Ganache (flat out stolen from the internet):
8oz semisweet chocolate
1c heavy cream
1t rum (I used grand mariner)

Chop chocolate into bits
Bring cream to a boil then immediately pour over chocolate.Whisk until chocolate is melted. Add rum.

Assembly:
Take 1 cooled cake round, spread a layer of moouse. Top with layer of sliced strawberries, then another of moouse. Place second cake round on top. Pour warm ganache over top of cake, dip aprox 6 strawberries (leafy bits removed) in ganache and use them to decorate the top. Return to fridge.
I had enough Strawberries (I bought a 2lb container) and ganache left to make about a dozen chocolate dipped strawberries. Also delicious.

I had a very good weekend. George and I wandered Prospect Park, watched Ponyo and Amelie, both of which were excellent, made meatballs for dinner and crepes for breakfast. Delicious and happy. Sunday, lots of people came over for his birthday and we played about 10+ hours of boardgames before pizza and cake.
I'm so happy, it's freaky. Really, it worries me a lot.

Real art! (ish)

So since last post, I have been bizarrely productive. I have about 5 spreads to show you and I've done huge amounts of cleaning, yard work, and other things. Also, tonight Mike came over and toweled so I got to do some fire, which was glorious. I haven't spun since September, and I missed it dreadfully. Basically, everything in my life is either rapidly moving towards complete awesomeness or settled comfortably enough. I am stupidly happy. It's kinda freaking me out.

Anyway, art time.

So last time I posted what was intended to be piece 1 of 3 (This is a Fire Door Never Leave Open).

(Our letters sound the same- full of all our changing that isn't change at all- All straight lines circle sometime)

Originally, I didn't realize or intend for them all to be Weakerthan's songs, or to be songs at all. But then the second one happened to be a Weakerthan's song too. So now I have finished all 3 and here they are.

Guy 2- Time's Arrow

(So you whisper your arrival walking backwards to the door wonder breifly what it is you're hesitating for)

And then, I wanted the third page to match up. So I needed to pick a Weakerthan's song for the remaining guy. My first inclination was The Reasons, but it's way too early to say I love you. Which is what that song means to me. So I ended up with My Favourite Chords, which I think is actually better.

(You are a radio. You are an open door. I am a faulty string of blue christmas lights. You swim through frequencies. You let that stranger in. As I'm blinking off and on and off again. We've got a lot of time- or maybe we don't. But I'd like to think so, so let me pretend.)

I've also bought Sheri Gaynor's book, Creative Awakenings and started working with that. So far I've decorated my cover- not according to the instructions. ;p

I've answered the starting questions

And done the first "EnVision Dreamtime" spread, which will continue to grow and change over the month. So I'll post it again at the end of the month.

And that's about all I'm up to.

This is where it ends

I don't buy everything I read,
I haven't even read everything I've bought.
I don't cry every time I bleed,
My eyes are dry, but they're bloodshot.
I have faith in medication
I believe in the Prozac Nation
You play doctor, but I've lost patience

Chorus:
But this is where it ends
This is where it ends
Call the police and call the press
But please, dear God, don't tell my friends
This is where it ends
This is where it ends

Where's my pride? Where's my self-esteem?
Does it show in the drinks I've bought?
I don't hide every time I'm seen, but I try not to get caught.
Make excuses for behaviour
Can my illness be my saviour?
Hid my heart while you still gave yours

Chorus

She says she wants to live in a movie
I say I want someone else to stand behind me
And write it all down
'cause I can't be bothered doing it myself.
And I don't want the responsibility of
proving it's importance.

I have loved and I have waited
Been picked up and been sedated
mental health is overrated






I know I should post some art. I'm just too tired and confused tonight. Maybe tomorrow. 
PS Today's fake words of the day: 
Uncommitty- same as noncommittal ie "I'm feeling uncommitty about this plan, call me later and we'll see".
Homonym: spelled Uncommittee to indicate things done unilaterally or by lack of consensus, the opposite of decisions made by committee ie "So the Uncommittee of Felicia has spoken, fake words are awesome". Kinda the opposite of Jove's "3 makes fact" rule. 
Enbiggen- to make larger, synonomous with Enlargen ie "Click the pic to enbiggen". 
PPS Why is there no twat chat in the real world? I need ladies to bounce my love life off. Or perhaps I should just enjoy that I seem to suddenly have gotten one upon leaving Vassar and ignore the fact that everything is super complicated/confusing.

Quotes

Historically, the claim of consensus has been the first refuge of scoundrels; it is a way to avoid debate by claiming that the matter is already settled.
- Michael Crichton

Gee, I hadn't noticed.
This appears to be most of the explanation for the Republican party and the Barefoot Monkeys.

Philosophy is a battle against the bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language.
- Ludwig Wittgenstein
And this is why Philosophy annoys me. You talk in circles and never say much. But worse, you never settle or accomplish anything.

I've had a very long week and I'm tired. Dinner at George's tonight, I'm excited.
I also need to do some major work on my comic, as tomorrow is the last class.

Acrophobia

As more and more aspects of my life spiral out of control, and more and more people I care about decide they don't want me in their lives, I don't know what to do.
I don't understand why this is happening.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the drugs seem to be working, and I am not falling into depression. I'm sleeping, and functioning, but it seems to be worse than the depression. At least that dulled all my feelings, so I didn't end up feeling quite so awful about things I couldn't control. I was so focused on my own pain and my internal issues that I didn't even notice when others had problems with me. And now that I do, I don't know how to cope with it, or what to do to fix anything.
I've screwed things up with Danielle, and Friedman, and Elias, and Jason, and I've massively neglected pretty much everyone else. And I'm just left with fear. If I do nothing, it'll just keep getting worse, but I don't know what to do to fix anything, and I don't even have anyone left to ask, so I am just waiting, hoping for a thought that will tell me how to proceed so I don't make things worse.
Halfway up a sheer cliff, I looked down. And I saw how far the ground was, how cold and hard and unforgiving it will be when I plummet. Suddenly, every muscle is frozen, and tired, and threatening to cramp. My calves are burning, as are my icy fingers, and my feet are twitching. My mind shrieks for me to keep climbing. But there are no more hand holds I can see, and the ones I cling to are crumbling. I press my face to the rock and try to remember how to breathe through the feeling that the bottom has dropped out of my stomach, my feet, my life. And above me I hear calls of encouragement, tinted with impatience. And I know that if they all reached the top successfully, there must be grooves for my fingers, jutting pieces of rock that will support my toes, but I still don't see them. I breathe and wish for solid ground, or at least a belay line. I am not meant to climb cliffs. And I am equally sure that if I remain paralyzed here, my body will fail me and I will fall, and that if I try to climb, I will miss my grip and fall. So falling seems to be the only option. I press closer to the rocks and pray to a deity I didn't believe in at the base of the cliff.
I can't help but wonder, as the wind tugs my fingers and buffets hair into my eyes, if there is a third option. The toe holds I climbed up from have vanished also, so I cannot go down, and try to get around. If my life were a novel, I could just push off from the cliff and soar, and the wind would support me. But even if I could, those at the top wouldn't accept it. And I don't think it's an option. I'd have to do it fully, completely trusting that I'd miss the ground, but I don't have that kind of faith. I'm much too aware of how far the ground is, and of my own frailty. If the cliff is some sort of metaphor for recovery, shouldn't it get easier as I get higher? It doesn't. I cling to the sheer wall, wondering how many of them actually climbed the cliff unaided, and wait as the blood drains from icy fingers clenched into sharp stone, wait for the inevitable fall.

Owl City - Tidal Wave

Sometimes it worries me. Really, itunes, you shouldn't know me this well. Someone somewhere is watching me, and sending me the perfect album for my current state of mind. And this is it. Seriously, I highly recommend getting this. Even if they do use Pachabel's Canon in D aka the damn 4 chords you can't escape. Alot. Fine, it's not the most brilliant pop music ever (and the fact that itunes says its electronica is more or less a huge lie. using a synth does not autmatically make it electronic). But its highly enjoyable. And how can you go wrong with lyrics like these?

I wish I could cross my arms, and cross your mind
Cause I believe you'd unfold your paper heart and wear it on your sleeve
All my life I wish I broke mirrors, instead of promises
Cause all I see, is a shattered conscience staring right back at me
I wish I had covered all my tracks completely cause I'm so afraid
Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel or just the train?
Lift your arms only heaven knows, where the danger grows
And it's safe to say there's a bright light up ahead and help is on the way
(Help is on the way, Help is on the way, Help is on the way...)

Help is on the way
I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity
Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me

Depression, please cut to the chase and cut a long story short
Oh please be done. How much longer can this drama afford to run?
Fate looks sharp, severs all my ties and breaks whatever doesn't bend
But sadly then, all my heavy hopes just pull me back down again
(Back down again, back down again, back down again...)

I forget the last time I felt brave, I just recall insecurity
Cause it came down like a tidal wave, and sorrow swept over me
Then I was given grace and love, I was blind but now I can see
Cause I found a new hope from above, and courage swept over me

It hurts just to wake up, whenever you're wearing thin
Alone on the outside, so tired of looking in
The end is uncertain and I've never been so afraid
But I don't need a telescope to see that there's hope
And that makes me feel brave

Also, the new DJ Hero game. I saw the ad today for the first time. And I am saddened by the whole concept. It tells you what to do and when to do it? Yes, I understand that thats how Guitar Hero works, but when you play an instrument, you usually play the song as its written, at least at the beginning. If I wanted to play the song the way they wrote it, I'd hit play in itunes and walk away. Or if I wanted to play a straight-up remix, I'd do that. Yes, I understand this is not the point. But I find the whole idea of a DJ game where my goal is to follow instructions somewhat offensive. As far as I'm concerned, the whole idea of DJing is to respond to the crowd and get them to respond to you. I reaslize the game has no way to simulate that. Do you know what I could do with that $200? Much less the $200 for the system I'd need? I could practically buy Live 8! Or a really sweet mixer. Or speakers. And thats just DJ equipment. $400 is a hell of a lot of art supplies. Or even fire toys. And those are expensive.
Anyway: Owl City = Good. DJ Hero < Good. Crazy friends ? Good

I think you think I am leaving,
That it is I who has parted ways-
But I am still standing here.

And if you walk away,
I am not going to walk behind you.
I will not follow you mindlessly,
But I will walk with you if you want me to.

Or I will wait here,
Until there is a reason to walk,
An invitation to share a path
Or maybe just a desire to move.

I may go in the same direction as you,
Or perhaps a different one.
Even if I walk the same path,
I will not follow you down it.

I have offered to walk with you,
And I am offering again
But when I try I find that that I follow you...

All I want is to walk side by side.
If you are only looking for someone to follow you
She isn't me

But I am still standing here.

Halloween and other insanity

It has been a truly crazy weekend.
Friday was mostly spent trying to cope with Drama that came up out of nowhere and sucker-punched me. After hours of trying to respond like a rational person, I finally sent the people who had sprung the drama (which bore no relation to my life or even people I am friends with, and came with ultimatums- do this or we will not be friends with you, but all these other people we'll stay friends with no matter what because they're important), an email saying that I couldn't hear from them for a while if they couldn't treat me like our relationships and my feelings matter. And after 6 hours of that, I spent about 3 cranking out a highly mediocre and shoddily made Rouge costume. And one of the friends who instigated the drama replied to say how sorry she was to have upset me. So she's now off the shit list.
Saturday- Went into the city with my friends (quite a few people correctly identified all of us, even Jove who was Sebastian Shaw - an excellent costume for a highly unknown character). There was much carousing and marching through the rain in the parade, which was amazing. We rejoined our dry and lame friends at the bar, which was super crowded, and decided to relocate. Then we were delayed because my epileptic friend had too much to drink and had a seizure- so we waited for an hour for the ambulance. Then tried another chiller bar for about an hour or so, before heading back to Jove's to watch Maniac Nurses Find Ecstasy an awful "horror" movie dub we desperately hoped would become porn but never did. Truly, an hour and 15 minutes of my life I can never have back. Crashed on the bean-bag couch - which is amazingly comfortable- for the not-most-comfy night of sleep ever between Friedman and George because Allie stole my spot in the bed.
Sunday, today, we had a lazy day -donuts, then hours of youtube clips and a seriously detour and traffic ridden trip back to New Ro, followed by dinner at Epstien's, which I thought was overpriced and not very good. But still conversation was fun, and it was a really good halloween once the I decided to tell the drama to fuck off. Unfortunately, this evening I returned home to an email - completely not about me, but rather about how all women have screwed men emotionally, and how that relate's to second drama-inducer's relationship with another girl who I don't care about. Intro'd with: "This is what I've been working on, and why I've been treating you and everyone with neglect. " Nothing else to me. I'm really sorry I even read it, that alone should have been enough to let me know it was not an email that would in any way consider my emotions or address anything I had said to him. So fuck him. I am not responding. As I said, I will not communicate until he indicates that he cares about me even a tiny bit. And now, after a lovely Halloween, I am depressed and pissed off. Again. So, bed is my next plan. Sleep. Yes please. God, I'm tired.

secrets

A few weeks ago, someone told me that secrets were the source of power.
I've been mulling that, because while my response was that I don't keep secrets, and I tell everyone everything, or everything I know and therefore can tell, that was true but somehow inaccurate?
Anyway, today I realized that by telling people everything, I am saying I don't want to play power games. "Here, look, now you know. And so does everyone else" thus, no secrets. No power. And this bothers them, but they won't admit it. Which gives me power. Which is passive-aggressive. Except that I'm not doing it to get power- I just think if we didn't have to lie and hide things, we'd all be happier and more secure in our relationships. And like all of my other decent-human initiatives, I am trying to lead by example and succeeding only in making everyone else pissed off, and myself miserable. Fmylife.
On a less somber note, Friedman and I had a discussion of secrets today.
David: !

infernally delicious cupcakes!

sooooooo you may have to come in my car and bring your cupcakes

your delicious delicious cupcakes

and you may or may not have cupcakes upon arrival

me: I don't know if they're delicious. I have been virtuous and not eaten them, merely decorated. for hours

David: i don't understand

how do you not eat cupcakes?

also, what is this 'virtue' you speak of?

me: well, i mostly do it by eating something super filling before I start decorating. with a taste that wouldn't combine well with cupcake

David: wow

that is incredibly smart
me: and then when I think cupcake! Nom time! I remember, but there are exactly enough to make an even number of each design, and I'm full of eggs, and my mouth tastes like eggs...

I am a genius

David: lol

me: and remember that on Saturday, I'm planning to run around manhattan in a skin-tight outfit, and that I'm already sort of a giant fatty

David: this is why the things i cook never last more than 30-45 minutes

oh right

estrogen

that's your secret

that, and society's backhand to feminine self-esteem

i'm so less confused now

me: I really don't think that it is secret that 1) i have estrogen or 2) society is hell on the self-esteem of those who have estrogen

David: it's secret because it didn't occur to me before i asked.

shh.

me: ok maybe the secret is that you are a fatty with no self-control
David: 1) not a secret

to either of us

2) not a problem, either

me: because you lack estrogen?

David: well

yes

actually

me: or because your costume allows for pants?

David: also, gambit wears a not-narrowly-tailored full-length coat

oh, and pants

And then a segue into costumes, followed by an even more amusing conversation about how next year we should go as "twisted" product mascots - Tony the Tigger (like winnie the pooh) Toucan uncle sam Pillsbury "dough" boy (made of $$$), sit-stay puffed marshmellow man (dressed as a dog), Ulysses S Grant Jemima etc.

Apologies

I don't seem to make enough of them.
Gibbs says "never apologize, it's a sign of weakness".
But I'm not convinced. So, just a quick post to say I'm sorry.
Sorry that I never post. Sorrier that I never act on the impulse to call or write or let you know that I'm alive, and that I wonder how you are and I miss you. Sorry that I don't do the things you want me to do, that I can't be the person you want me to be. Sorry that I'm so selfish and whiny and that I keep making you put up with it. I only hope that the sarcastic commentary is occasionally funny enough to make up for it. And not just annoying, as I suspect it is.
And I want to say thank you for being my friend anyway.
The reason: I realized that I've been trying to make myself this woman, which means I have to make one of you this man. Which isn't very fair. And I've been doing a lousy job of it, so I keep making us these people instead. At least it's music I like, even if it does mean I keep ending up with fucked up relationships with my guy friends.
Or maybe you all think we're fine, and it's all in my head because I'm completely egomaniacal. Which is apparently not a word. But the only word I know that's similar is vainglorious. And obviously, I can't use that. Not only because that would mean I was saying the problem is that I'm Christopher-esque, which I am distinctly not, but because vainglorious doesn't convey the right level of self-absorption. Its more boastful and is about pride rather than general self obsession. And I'm pretty sure egomaniacal is a word, and that time it didn't underline it, so what the fuck? As Robin would say, dwonky.
In other news: since I've been home, I have accomplished very little. A couple hours "cleaning" mostly so I'd have space to take out my cold-weather clothes. I've been biting my nails, which I completely stopped in Canada. And last night and today, I've done a little art. Maybe I'll eventually have some to show. And I'll sort out my costume for Halloween. Votes on if I should be Psyloche or Rouge?
And see, again, in a post that was meant to just be an appology for being a shitty, self-absorbed friend, I've gone completely off into talking about myself. Seriously though, I need to learn to shut up about myself. Danielle thinks it would make me less offensive. Friedman says he doesn't get offended, and that I shouldn't worry about people who do. I dunno, I'm trying to be a decent human. I'm just failing spectacularly. But really, I do love you all and I miss you. Call me or email me or something, because I'm clearly never going to manage to contact you. But I'll keep trying.

It's not the end of the world, in fact it's not even the end of the summer

But thank god the TV is on,
'cause there's no way we could know
Anything that’s goin' down
Or how we're supposed to be feeling about it
I can't tell you how much I wish we could shut up and smile, yeah
-Bowling for Soup- Shut up and Smile

Actually, it is the end of the summer. The end of that period where life is in limbo, just waiting for a decision and it'll all work out if I just give it time. The heat hasn't broken, in fact the rain only recently stopped. School is starting, but I am not invited- I was so desperate to be done with it, but now, I have nothing to fill my days. My mom is going to come home for good soon, and then, the (until now) intermittent nagging to get a job or go to classes or Something, to figure out my life, will become constant. The more I think about reality, the more I want to curl up and never ever do anything.
I feel isolated. Not lonely, because I see people and go out, and I'm happy not to do so all the time, and because when my mother is home, I feel more alone. Just- I love my friends here, but the relationships are different. They aren't touchy-feely. At Vassar, my sarcasm and loudness work because it has contrast. People like Dierdre and Danielle who are happy and bouncy, people like Katie and Devin who are quiet or sweet or immature. Here, there are two choices, loud and sarcastic or quiet and acerbic. The others got scared off or overpowered, or indocrinated or something. Some of them come back and visit, but the group is shrinking, shriveling as it ages into a sour fruit. Leave us long enough, we'll ferment into vinegar. We love each other, but like my family, my friends show it by playfully (for the most part, although less so in my family) torturing eachother. There is no snuggling. No sharing of intimate fears, hopes or thoughts. I mean, I do, master of the overshare that I am, but no one else does. In some cases I know exactly why. I mean, if Friedman started to tell me about his deepest thoughts I would probably try to take his temperature (and certainly ask if he was feeling alright/ make a joke about not wanting to know his innermost thoughts because tenatcle porn gives me nightmares or something). And, I probably have more deep, honest talks with him than with everyone else combined. Maybe they share important stuff with eachother, and the problem is me. I joined this band of misfits much later than almost everyone else, I talk about myself too much, I'm certainly not likely to be a prime target for sharing of secrets. After all, I tell everyone so much, I must not be able to hide anything. Not true. I keep my actual secrets very well. And other people's even better. My standards for what qualifies as a secret are just very high.
I don't know what I want from them. I don't know what I want from myself. I don't know what I want from life. I do know that I need a hug and I am tired of sleeping alone and not having anything to DO. I don't function well when I have no one to take care of/ no crisis to solve.

I haven't gotten out of my PJs all day. I've done the usual: looked all over craigslist for a job, looked up pieces for a halloween costume (we're doing Xmen, I'll probably be Rouge. Maybe Psylocke, if I decided I want to be very naked. Why are the individual xmen- especially the women- so lame?). I'm trying to be a productive human - for me that means:

philosophical thoughts: How can you explain why you care to someone who doesn't? Is caring a good thing? Elias is trying very hard not to care about others, and not to act on any caring he feels, in order to be able to take care of himself. He thinks that's fine as long as you allow people to leave and make it clear that that is your plan. He points out that I'm much better at that than he is. Yes, I am very good at making it clear that I am a selfish bitch. But then I go and try to take care of others and get upset that no one spends nearly as much (sometimes it feels like no one spends any) time or energy on trying to help me/worrying about my needs. Certainly that plan isn't working out very well for me. And I don't know why I keep doing it. Or how to stop if I decide I want to. But I think not caring about how you affect others makes you a sociopath. So I'm skeptical at best about his plan. I dunno. Going to see him in Toronto may be a terrible plan. We had what I expected/intended to be a fight about it, but as always, he was calm and logical, and so I have a lot of trouble being pissed off because he's so calm and just wants me to explain better so he can understand. Unfortunately, much of it is emotional, so just as I cannot explain why I care so much about other people, I cannot explain why him not caring upsets me. It's just how I feel. When I get tired of philosophy,

I watch bad TV and try to paint:
Today, watercolors. a gunfight, and then flowers. And a tree. With leaves, much less skeletal and depressing than I usually make. Someone who found my art would really think I was fucked up. Bloody wounds, immediately followed by pansies and snowdrops.

And more lyrics, this time, a departure from the Weakerthans. Gary Jules's "Pills"
I've taken all my pills
But I'm still not sleepy
Tried to trick myself into thinking
That I'm not awake
That it's only a dream
Put that cigarette out
Don't ask me no questions
Salome dancing on my wall
And the shadows on the floor
Look so warm from here
I've seen it all before
Just one little lie
But the difference is this
It meant the world to me
Don't ask me no questions
"Take the wheel" she said "as I wander"
We could leave this town
I've got all I need: spirit, hope and joy
But no one knows me
I think I lost my pills
Guess I'll take my chances
I'm looking at the telephone
But nothing happens
I am well aware
That the morning is near
Put the radio down
Don't ask me no questions