an informal hybrid
current hobby: asynergia de deshabille = trying to wear
the most uncoordinating attire possible.
1. dolce dumum
i finally found an abode to call my own, months past
due. its a two-story loft, and i've signed a six month
prenump with the property, more of a commitment than
i would prefer to make regarding any spatial
arrangement. i have started to say my goodbyes to all
residing spiders in the bathroom -- i'd even venture to
say that i thought i saw one particular octaped shed a
tear. touching, and yet not.
2. 2002 is a numerical palindrome
new years was a bit obscure. d. took me to a party held
by his friends' father, a divorced ophthalmologist. the
strangest thing about the house was the kitchen
ceiling, it was plated entirely in copper. girls walked
around and adorned our necks with mardi gras beads
while the host introduced himself and handed out
shirts that said 'dr. t's 2nd annual new year's eve bash.'
there were several beautiful people there, some playing
pool, others dancing - most just stood around and
drank champagne and well, looked beautiful. as for the
ante of intelligent/interesting conversation, much was
left for wanting (d. warned me of this postparty) but i did
enjoy talking to d.'s friend b. b. wants to be a
pediatrician and looked as out of place as i secretly felt.
after a glass or three of enhanced punch, d. started
telling insane stories and became adorably animated,
as he tends to get whenever he finds a patch of
limelight whilst imbibed - so b. and i mainly stood back
and played the casting extras.
i was devastated to come home and realize that i had
left the 'dr. t' shirt behind...was planning
on wearing it to paint in.
i had a dream the other night and it made me long for
someone, but i don't know whom exactly. the name of
the person in the dream was that of an old boyfriend,
but the mannerisms and characteristiccs were those of
another. all i know is that it made me so euphoric to
see him: we stared at one another for a long time then
softly kissed. it was nauseating to wake up, alone, face
wet with tears. i wanted to go back asleep, to stay there
forever. i suppose the part that aches the most is
knowing that moment will never exist in my waking life.
*and like all once foolish young lovers, i wish i had not
pushed the self-destruct button.* - anon.
current recommendations: a) film: waking the dead,
mulholland drive (lynch's captivating symbolismfest),
basquiat / b) lit: NF culture jam, the beak of the finch
(both have made a profound cognitive impact) F the
goldbug variations / c) music: the fellowship of the ring