"i find angels over drinks / and you're one"
fingers are very sore, memory doesn't work, polina got cut off. bargh.
i adore carpentry.
i used coupons today. and a big shopping cart. and the people at this grocery store are rude and don't give a shit; i miss my wegman's. i can't believe i said that but it's true. i use my debit card. i sign checks. i make appointments to see doctors. i tie my shoes. who'da thunk it.
unfortunately i still am struggling with, as polina framed it, just the life skills bit. i recall a high school english teacher saying rather dismissively in the beginning of the year, "i don't expect you to ask for my permission; for god's sake, we're all adults here. i am sure you don't need me to wipe your nose for you." and obviously...well, you know. but figuratively speaking? the question returns to me too often to keep dreams peaceful.
i'm not a grown up. i don't say this proudly or contently as many i know do; i say it because it's the unfortunately pathetic truth. my parents write and tell me they are proud of me and my adventures; they have no idea. i'm just a four year old girl with skinned knees and grimy shoulders sniffling in the corner of a single room which is apparently falling apart (it's leaking nonstop). i have run out of bowls to collect the water that falls on me. any day now i will have to move this computer so it doesn't get wet.
and the phone still scares me.
polina: do you download zillions of music files now, too??
oh my, yes.
listening...juno's "rodeo programmers," lullaby for the working class' "inherent song," and cat power's "crossbones style" video...from the matador site. ummy.
and i'm too tickled that now i have food in my little hovel. i mean i don't have to venture to the overly lit cafeteria for cereal and pretty packaged fake nutrition. hm. such a little little girl.
i adore carpentry.
i used coupons today. and a big shopping cart. and the people at this grocery store are rude and don't give a shit; i miss my wegman's. i can't believe i said that but it's true. i use my debit card. i sign checks. i make appointments to see doctors. i tie my shoes. who'da thunk it.
unfortunately i still am struggling with, as polina framed it, just the life skills bit. i recall a high school english teacher saying rather dismissively in the beginning of the year, "i don't expect you to ask for my permission; for god's sake, we're all adults here. i am sure you don't need me to wipe your nose for you." and obviously...well, you know. but figuratively speaking? the question returns to me too often to keep dreams peaceful.
i'm not a grown up. i don't say this proudly or contently as many i know do; i say it because it's the unfortunately pathetic truth. my parents write and tell me they are proud of me and my adventures; they have no idea. i'm just a four year old girl with skinned knees and grimy shoulders sniffling in the corner of a single room which is apparently falling apart (it's leaking nonstop). i have run out of bowls to collect the water that falls on me. any day now i will have to move this computer so it doesn't get wet.
and the phone still scares me.
polina: do you download zillions of music files now, too??
oh my, yes.
listening...juno's "rodeo programmers," lullaby for the working class' "inherent song," and cat power's "crossbones style" video...from the matador site. ummy.
and i'm too tickled that now i have food in my little hovel. i mean i don't have to venture to the overly lit cafeteria for cereal and pretty packaged fake nutrition. hm. such a little little girl.