suffuse's Journal

suffuse's Journal

suffuse

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	[27 Dec 2004\|06:28pm]
ov
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	[22 Dec 2004\|01:46pm]
gay. my lease is up over at dreamhost next week. i'm too destitute to renew it at the moment, so i will have no webspace soon, and all of my dear pictures will fall into oblivion and rot away on a little card. my annual gift of obligation from my dad should be somewhere around the amount of my bill, but i'm sure he'd be frightened and not a little suspicious of putting his credit card on "the internet" where people will find out about his information and steal his identity and sense of self. i just made a list of companies that donated overwhelmingly to the republicans leading up to the election. naturally i won't buy their products anymore, tho i do find that i've already made a habit of avoiding them anyway, given that they're typically nasty megacorp-types, churning out cheap shit that no one wants anyway, ie, wal-mart, etc. well thank god jordache donated blue, otherwise i wouldn't be able to wear their radical jeans anymore. my friends list has been at least 50% world of warcraft worship for the past few weeks. i'm not complaining about it, but i'm just saying. damn.
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	[18 Dec 2004\|02:42pm]
journal. it's like. i'm drinking a concoction consisting of coffee, egg nog, and pumpkin pie spice. i don't know. it's too hot to taste, currently. i dislike the name beverly. winter here is like spring elsewhere, you know. or even summer elsewhere. it seems wrong to me that i should stand outdoors in december, holding my hand over my eyes for the sun and removing a light sweater for the heat. i require (request, really) seasons to fall in with tradition. not that i have ever experienced their doing so except in very small quantities, and for the purposes of novelty. hard for me to write here now, but i'm definitely in a phase, or, rather, in a fit. i go through these bleak periods (which begin on a dime) at infrequent intervals wherein i just cannot muster interest in all of the things that i am, in fact, interested in. i haven't got much to say, there isn't anything in particular that i very much want to do, i feel blandly towards all things, etc. in spite of whatever retarded daria-like image of me there is floating around or being projected, it's a far cry from my normal state. it's irritating for me. the internet is a weird place, you know. i've never seen myself as the sort of chatty nerd who has all of these pals online and lives this strange pseudo social life. but i was reading old journal entries and saw comments from an old aol friend i was talking to primarily when i was 14 and 15, all goth and tori and weirdness. she died last year, and i'm not sure how exactly to feel about that. more so because we hadn't talked in several years and towards the end she took a turn and became a rabid born-again and all that. but how does one mourn a person they haven't met. how, for that matter, is someone best pals with a person they haven't met. don't ask, but it happens. i don't know. NM I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.
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the internet is for stupid things	[13 Dec 2004\|01:48am]
i know jupiter: yo yo britpop fiesta: hey i know jupiter: whats up wit you? britpop fiesta: nothing i know jupiter: how was closing biznatch? britpop fiesta: ok i know jupiter: well my night got a whole lot better after i left britpop fiesta: why's that i know jupiter: i think it was better because i didn't have to look at your big leg anymore ( cool times.Collapse )
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[09 Dec 2004|12:58am]

[

mood

oh, dear.

]

items of note today include some pondering as to why i love alan alda, and the newest addition to the diseases and maladies that constantly horrify me file, dermoid cysts.

...cysts residing on one or both ovaries which are the result of rogue eggs attempting to form a fetus completely on their own. the result is a discolored and misshapen bag of flesh that looks like it's been rotting for weeks, in which can form teeth and hair. TEETH AND HAIR. this is as bad as the time on tv when they removed some adult male's dead-since-birth siamese twin from somewhere around his stomach. it had ceased living long before birth, but its matter continued to grow in some way, and what they pulled out of this man was a gigantic (something about the size of a basketball or larger) clump of greasy hair enshrouding a malformed "head" complete with distorted features - ears, mouth, teeth...

apparently hair and teeth are terrifying when they appear where they shouldn't.

one of the terrible things about having been born is having to go through life endlessly fearing the worst: deadly, uncivilized diseases. i have not yet decided if i am being paranoid or simply realistic. dreadful to know that cancer is a given; that is, at least, if something worse doesn't get you first. cancer has become a rite of passage to death in my mind. birds of a feather, it's simply not done to die without at least one round of it. i've mentioned this before. like one is unable to truly pass out of life without cancer as their host. those who don't get it will be doomed to wander the earth in a waking death state, like la llorona, rambling around, wailing, and scaring the living.

"if you look into the garden at midnight you'll see her, the ghost of brittany, passing through..." "whyfor!?" "she never had the cancer; she's doomed to wander the earth forever, searching for her cancer."

speaking of rogue things, i heard about a particularly independent whale on the radio, today. i'll have to check for it online. apparently this whale has been following an unusual travelling course for the past 12 years, declining to fraternize and travel with the other whales. he also sings at a frequency that is apparently dramatically different from those who would be his peers if only he could stand to be around them. delightful. i first assumed he was probably just insane, but then figured that i wasn't giving him (the whale) the benefit of the doubt by simply assuming that he is crazy to not want to hang out with the other whales and mate with them and sing like they do.

who wants that anyway. singing and breeding and swimming. like some sort of fucked up camp. i don't particularly enjoy any of those three, not that i've attempted breeding, but some things you know you'll hate without having to try them. like canned meats, and radishes, or giving birth via cesarean section to a ball of hair and teeth.

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	[08 Dec 2004\|03:35pm]
totally screw this. my stomach feels dreadful, i had dreams of being chased by vicious homeless people (better dressed than i) and of being forced to utilize a gorilla as a mode of transportation.
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love in a cold climate	[07 Dec 2004\|01:56pm]
"Have you read Brothers?" Lady Kroesig asked Uncle Matthew, conversationally, as they settled down to their soup. "What's that?" "The new Ursula Langdok - Brothers - it's about two brothers. You ought to read it." "My dear Lady Kroesig, I have only read one book in my life, and that is White Fang. It's so frightfully good that I never bothered to read another."
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	[06 Dec 2004\|02:08pm]
been thinking about this friend of mine from high school. vickie. i haven't seen her in about three years, but it's been more like five since we actually spent any time together. it seems bizarre to me now when i think of how evolved she was for her age. i remember the way her handwriting looked and her voice and her favorite shirt, and the fact that she was always more clever than everyone else, but the subtlety of her nature barred most people from ever noticing. i could never understand why she was friends with the people she was. druggie kids, stupid kids. i haven't seen her since some halloween party at my house. she was very quiet, and i hardly talked to her. i don't know why. she was still dating that boring guy from school, and he seemed to have already begun to spread his fatherly male tentacles over her. authoritative comments, and her silence. obvious. in thinking about all of this old business, i kind of feel like shit. sad, regretful. i don't know what people are talking about when they say those teen years are the greatest. for me, they were like some blind terrified stumble through the thriller video or something. i've never been cut out for this stuff, though. life. now i have to call jessica and talk about it. it's the one benefit of having had someone around for the past 9 years. she knows. i'm bad at explaining things; i leave everything out because it makes me feel weird not to. i wrote this song about fatima. it's called, "the most annoying cat in the world," to be sung to "it's the most wonderful time of year" or whatever the title actually is. and by "wrote this song" i mean "have been repeatedly singing the title."
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	[25 Nov 2004\|01:55pm]
no one likes to be on the internet unawares. there have been discussions on this. it would particularly offend the elderly, as they are confused and frightened of the invisible technological aggressors. what great uncle of yours wouldn't become enraged and terrified if you said, "UNCLE BOB DID YOU KNOW YOU'RE ON THE INTERNET! SOMEONE PUT YOUR PICTURE ON THE INTERNET NOW THEY'RE GOING TO GET YOUR SS# AND DRAIN YOUR BANK ACCT!!!!!!" terence and i discussed a site with nothing but photos set up yearbook style, called "people who don't know they're on the internet," purely for this reason. terrorism.
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	[20 Nov 2004\|09:02pm]
the tonight show theme is also my personal theme. i find myself unconsciously whistling or humming it while distracted, i will realize what song i am humming only after having been doing it for quite some time. this has been going on for MANY YEARS. it is the only song i do this with. it happens several times a week, which is quite a bit, as i am not a whistling or humming type. it's like the song rises from depths of me and must get out. my in-shower assessment of the situation today has brought me to the assumption that being that my mother and grandmother in particular were fans of the show, and given the time it came on, i imagine i frequently heard this theme while falling asleep as a child. taking advantage of my weakened mental state, the theme has embedded itself for life in an untouchable sector of brain. this is not the song i would have chosen to have been infested by.
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	[17 Nov 2004\|03:43pm]
this sucks. and by this i mean you. -s. i found this illustrated guide to the world's fair from 1893 today. or, that's sort of what it is. i would explain, but people have already stopped reading this paragraph. the doorbell rang about an hour ago. i was pretty pissed off about that, because i didn't know who it was and, you know. leavemealone, etc. anyway, it was my lens adapter. i cut it out of its box and bounced over to the camera and screwed it right on and replaced the lens cap. looked at it for a couple of seconds. it's not that fun a purchase after all, is it. i was woken by a leaf blower, today. i had some severe deja-vu a little later. i made some sort of experimental messicanfood pita situation and forgot about it, and the house is still full of smoke and smelling like toasted death because of it. hakenkreuzer: brittany britpop fiesta: yes. hakenkreuzer: move out here britpop fiesta: i intend to. now i'm going to work. i have no idea what i'll do all night, but i obviously cannot work. i haven't got the heart for it. it's not in me. i'm all washed up.
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dead is the new black.	[13 Nov 2004\|11:17pm]
i can't decide if i should wake up or go to sleep. so i'm looking at this site and picking out things to buy myself for the holiday. what turn did my old taste take that i'm considering purchasing a giant (bird-eating) tarantula mounted in a double-glassed shadowbox. i know that the sight of it would cause me unease and that quick, thoughtless glances in its general direction would probably be rewarded with a brief heart attack. it's 8", dude. you can buy large beetles from thailand. they're dead and come perched on a piece of cardboard and wrapped in cellophane. if one treats them delicately, they may be used as photographic props or perhaps you might affix them to your latest "mixed media" piece. their pinchers are formidable. they are cheap. so far i like the striped stag beetle because it's the least scary and is red and the shiniest, next to the glossy terror of the giant black stag beetle. that thing is going to come for me when i'm asleep, now. it's 3" long. if it was worth the $8, shipping & handling, and 3 weeks of wait, i'd place it on top of the "snooze" button of my mother's alarm clock one early morning. i might be collecting life insurance some months later. oh, i kid. she hasn't got life insurance. when i was a child, my dad bought me a slightly larger than life-size rubber sewer roach on a keyring. he cut the key ring off and instructed me to place the roach atop some bottle of cleaning solvent or something underneath our kitchen sink, for my mother to find. you see, it was inevitable that i grow up to be a dickhead. i see that one can also buy the assembled (strung by nylon) bones of a human hand. fuck that! reminds me of the monkey's paw. more importantly, you can buy a freeze-dried (does not look like it sounds) duckling who "didn't have what it took to make it. another sad story from the hatchery." oh my. and a seasonal item, a freeze-dried mouse with feathery "angel" wings attached to it, with its limbs formed as though it was flying. it does not look that cool. i think gal at acaseofcuriousities.com would have made it far more adorable and awesome. i just want to say, man, who cares about shells. even dead sea urchins. i see them, and i'm like, "whatever." and gaudily dyed chunks of coral, too. that sucks. sea life in general does not interest me, in spite of its being "the last frontier." thoughts of the underworld of the ocean just discomfort me slightly. i'm not big on fish, eating or looking at, unless they travel in mirrored schools, because the split-second full-roster changes of direction confound me. tho i do think that sea snakes are captivating and precious. their faces are so not snake-like. they look expressive to me, like human faces. they're enigmatic, you see this sea snake with a childlike smile on its face, and you think, "what the fuck is that snake thinking; what is it going to do" also, for whatever reason, i "trust" them more because they have to hit the surface for oxygen occassionally. things that live underwater in total darkness...ehhh. i had a thought. perhaps "hell" is actually the deepest parts of the ocean. it's black there, you don't know what's happening after the discovery channel's diving team switches off the underwater lamps and heads back to shore. everything that lives there looks hellish in some way. demons masquerading as bizarre fish until the human eye slides away...a pitchfork resting quiet underneath a carnivorous shrub of seaweed. thanks for listening. brittany
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someone get some dplg in here.	[23 Oct 2004\|09:43am]
i'm looking for a salad recipe involving strawberries and pomegranate seeds. all right! GOD I'M BUSY TODAY!!!111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 i kind of have a problem with the use of more than one exclamation point. ...unless there's a space, ex: god !! because it implies shock, i think. whereas: god!! implies frustration, which is lost on me. god! is concise: frustrated, mildly taken aback, but curt. exactly what to convey to your oppressor/opponent/nicki/whatev. thanks. this is the kind of shit that makes me late for work. it's like, what. coffee.
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shelley	[18 Oct 2004\|04:50pm]
even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. the starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit, that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.
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benz + polett industries conference	[14 Oct 2004\|03:46pm]
nickarooneypoo: well do you want to go to andersons tonight. britpop fiesta: well not particlar. nickarooneypoo: well do you want to hang. britpop fiesta: well ok. nickarooneypoo: oh well lovely. nickarooneypoo: what ever shall we do. britpop fiesta: well i surely do not know britpop fiesta: we will think of something britpop fiesta: that involves alcoholism, pref. britpop fiesta: oh who hath texted mine phone nickarooneypoo: oh it was me. britpop fiesta: what are the last 4 of kill's phone. britpop fiesta: i have a text from 4378 that says, "i can smell you." nickarooneypoo: i will look nickarooneypoo: 4378
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	[13 Oct 2004\|12:19am]
Arthur Symons rules. White Heliotrope, Bianca. I would paste here, but i tire of this business. disorder, some sort of perverse and very silent frantic thought. an impersonal and yet organic thrumming sound. black over blue, ruddiness. sort of pale white scent. drifts of chilled air. then black.
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	[10 Oct 2004\|11:23pm]
tear the throat out of the night. why can't it always be like that? i don't care. i saw the ferris wheel from a distance, and lightning in the other. driving down the street in the half-dark, wind & romeo is bleeding. well. i write and delete, write and delete. i want to read the things i deleted last year. today. i read some bukowski the other day and had to put it down. it's not where i'm at, currently, and reading it just makes it harder for me to live. i think about it now and it sucks a little color out of my eyes. i wonder if i can get decent prints made from photos found in a book. i can't, or won't, dismantle the book the better to get at the photos, sadly. so far, i haven't been able to find the ones i want anywhere else than in this book, but i don't know how i can enlarge these tiny and relatively grainy photos to decent sizes without entirely compromising the quality. i'm supposed to be "reading actively" right now. but the light is bad.
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	[09 Oct 2004\|09:22pm]
tired. i find it cute that my mom is at her 30 year hs reunion. she tried on her little shoes and cocktail dress to show me this afternoon, all at her own insistence of course, and i thought to myself about how she out-girls me by miles. how is it that she raised me, and i haven't got a shred of femininity besides that which i cannot fight for its being anchored in my flesh and all. / there were times when i was excited to live in a tiny atmosphere. a few people, the possibilities were endless. conversation was as varied as their bodies, their clothes. everything i required was somewhere inside of them and in the air. anyway, i stepped out of it like it was marked off by a ring of paint on asphalt. quite a while ago, actually, but i'm thinking of it again. it's all right; it was short-lived as it was meant to be. i feel it ended right on cue, with a flourish and only the appropriate amounts of regret necessary for life-romance. i also don't think anyone inside or outside of that small universe sees it the way i did. what's new. i need the cold air. i need the cold air!! it's exactly right, the time is appropriate and now. cold! i can't wait. i can't think this time of year without it. cold so i wear an elderly sweater, cold so i hate to step out of the shower, cold so i appreciate the odd moment spent standing in the sun, cold so i get angry at breezes. well, anyway. time for me to continue not doing things i should.
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i wish i lived in a slum with soft floors and leaning doors.	[08 Oct 2004\|11:48am]
i guess that's where interests diverge and run away. i like the pictures of the buildings, and find them to be "pretty," in fact. dull, pastelly colors - soft pinkish brick and peeling white paint, rotting gray wood, esp rust corroding the industrial pale green metal paint that was apparently rather cheap 50-70 years ago. but i like way decay looks. i definitely find it preferable to cream stuccoed and raked-rocked desert suburbs. i'm about to go to the bookstore to physically buy frankenstein, and dracula. it seems so strange to me. shouldn't they be part of the general western consciousness, now? i shouldn't have to read them, i should simply be asked to "remember" them.
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	[06 Oct 2004\|03:03pm]
nickarooneypoo: http://www.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=viewImage&friendID=213790&imageID=21454217&Mytoken=20041006145250 nickarooneypoo: i think you will enjoy this picture. britpop fiesta: WHAT NOOOOOOOOOOOO britpop fiesta: no i do not enjoy it!! britpop fiesta: he's so old and scurvy looking britpop fiesta: aw. nickarooneypoo: well, you said you wanted a recent pic! britpop fiesta: aw god. britpop fiesta: aw damn. what a terrible day this has turned out to be. more so, i'm on my way to work in a bit. all this and a massive blow to the ego. i have to reconcile myself with patience and neutrality. as i go absolutely insane when someone i trust and know insults me with shredding accuracy. oh, god. well, no, i can handle that. but since when is cruelty en vogue, i'd like to know. i wrote an email about it and everything i said comes off as impressively stupid. funny when someone pulls out a thread of inaccuracy for your close inspection of course, that's not entirely right - more like puts it on the overhead and then asks the class for 4,000 synonyms for, "idiot," it seems to stain everything else you do from then on. getting on with it,
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