I might actually go to bed soon. I couldn't sleep til past three last night, and then I had to get up before 8 to work for a million hours.
Met a beautiful photographer out back today, smoking twenty-sevens and squinting in the unexpected sun. He hates his Abercrombie job and likes my mohawk.
Two weeks from tomorrow. I'm going to be twenty. It'll be interesting to see who remembers and who forgets.
Mixed feelings about school. It will be nice to move in on Saturday, a day early-- a nice night without my roommate. Party with Kraig and whoever else happens to be there. I hope Nate's around. And others. Pamidy-pam's 21st coming up, excited about that. I'm not excited about homework, waking up, and unsettled scores. Comfort, though, knowing that everyone I've lived with, near, or cared about is scattered. Harder to run into them and have to make petty smalltalk while we both look at clocks anxiously and speak our meaningless words.
This year is about me coming to terms with me. Anyone who wants to come along for the ride is welcome, but warned.
The entire universe angers me. The rug of reason pulled away; no rabbit in the damned hat, just some empty hand wearing a cheap sleeve.
That old skin is too tight. I don't fit into it anymore.Current Mood:  melancholy Current Music: Tricky - Ponderosa (Original 7" Edit) |
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Jul. 9th, 2005 @ 02:01 pm
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There is something inexplicable and singularly amazing about being called by your name.Current Mood:  content Current Music: The Doors - When The Music's Over |
After the VIP banket fra helvete, all there was to do was do dishes, make sauce, pan manicotti, make sides, nap in Sleip with only other person on staff (because the other person is at I-Dag with creepy-ass boyfriend when he's scheduled to work-- regardless of the fact that there wasn't much to do at the time), sit on ass. Pulled a fast one on Braggi (oh, so malicious!), had lovely buggy picnic with Udo and rest of sane kitchen staff minus Åstara. Get back, having actually TOLD Braggi to get some things done while I was gone (told him I was going for a smoke break...which, actually, WAS true to an extent).....only to discover that NOTHING had been done. NOTHING. At this point, it's approximately 1030. And John was there. Lucky for me tonight, Astrid took over and got shit done. And John actually helped out a bit. And when we were all done, around 1145, Lukas and I went back to TRTH and enjoyed smoky treats.
All in all, I mostly just want Braggi gone forever. He is incapable of taking ANY initiative EVER regarding getting things done (example: manicotti still sittin in the steam table, fusing slowly to the pan), he is incapable of following through on directions specifically given him (example: please get started on the dishes while I'm gone), and he is incapapble of doing anything at all unless Astrid, Lars or I is standing directly over him, dictating play-by-play the task given. Working with him is a pain in the fucking ass. When I came back to the kitchen, seeing all the untouched mess, I thought I was going to fucking cry. I spilled vinegar, and almost lost it. And the really ridiculous part is that, while I was in the kitchen working for almost twelve hours today, there are people (Lars, Astrid) who were there longer, when it was more high-stress. It's embarassing to be so easily stressed out. But I think it's less that I have lots to do (today is a good example of the opposite), and more that I feel I have to manage others in order to get them to do it. Getting Braggi to do anything is mentally exhausting. Even asking Lukas to do things bothers me sometimes, even though he always drops what he's doing to get work done.
Blech. It's bedtime. Tomorrow will be better.Current Mood:  frustrated Current Music: Fiona Apple in my head. |
I can vibe to anything
So I have to hide from everything.
Everybody wants a piece of me.
Rinse the origin and cease to be
Sit back and let it happen,
Let us take your time away
I don't understand you.
I don't want your time of day.
If you're gonna walk, might as well walk your way,
Always walk the whole ways,
Forget the punk, I pack the funk.
I'm gonna take a piece of you.
Making money for good health, but first I learn to see myself
You promised me poemsCurrent Mood: melancholy Current Music: Tricky - Poems (Edit) |
"In my mind, when I look at these fields, I say to her, "See?...See?" and I think she does. I hope later she will see and feel a thing about these prairies I have given up talking to others about; a thing that exists here because everything else does not and can be noticed because other things are absent. She seems so depressed sometimes by the monotony and boredom of her city life, I thought maybe in this endless grass and wind she would see a thing that sometimes comes when monotony and boredom are accepted. It's here, but I have no names for it."
-Zen and the Art of Motorcycle MaintenanceCurrent Mood: peaceful Current Music: Morcheeba - Otherwise |
| » Evidently, I'm a tool. |
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Lars, dearie, there's just nothing much to say.
Let's see...at some point, I'm getting my left nostril pierced, whenever Jeremy's at work and I can make it. I'm going to go have smoky treats tonight, followed by massages and Pink Floyd. A certain person is trying to decide whether or not to attempt a relationship with me now that most of the summer is over, I'm trying to decide whether or not I want to bother thinking about it. I have excellent probability in my favor of frequent booty calls for the rest of the summer, regardless of what happens with the first person. Situation with the second person is potentially hazardous, however.
Hm...I'm going to miss being here. This is one of those places....fuck it. I have no words.
I smoked too many cigarettes over the past three or four days.
I woke up today with my eyes actually GLUED. SHUT. from forgetting to wash off mascara last night. That was a trip and a half. After I pried them open, they were all bloodshot and obvious. Great.
I'm not looking forward to working at Charlotte for the rest of the summer. Not a bit. I'm going to try to find another job doing food prep or cooking or something like that, but I'm not entirely sure that's possible. Apparently, the job market in good ol' Roch sucks a bit at present.
We got out of the kitchen tonight at 9, because Jelsa was so bored that she did the dishes. She's my hero. And Johan's boozy margarita cheesecake sounds so. good. right now.
It's rainin' in corporate heaven...
Jul. 5th, 2005 @ 09:50 pm
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| » Baby, I'm an anarchist. |
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We were so cliche tonight-- it was wonderful. And now I'm going to sleep, because I have to call and sell my soul to Charlotte Russe in the morning.
Jul. 5th, 2005 @ 01:59 am
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| » (No Subject) |
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"I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started."
--A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemmingwa
Jun. 29th, 2005 @ 03:09 am
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| » (No Subject) |
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So rock me, mama, like a wagon wheel
Rock me, mama, any way you feel
Hey, mama, rock me
Rock me, mama, like the wind and rain
Rock me, mama, like a southbound train
Hey, mama, rock me.
Jun. 29th, 2005 @ 02:51 am
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| » (No Subject) |
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Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
Shoot me. Please?
Jun. 25th, 2005 @ 12:49 pm
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| » le sigh. |
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Yeah. I don't know.
Jun. 23rd, 2005 @ 03:56 pm
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| » Today, there are people I want to smack, and people I want to kiss. |
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Today has been obnoxious. Not only did we not have anything to do all afternoon (thanks to fabulous prep work by the fabulous morning shift), but the water kept misbehaving, and so we'd have to call Frank to come fix it every hour or so. So the last twenty minutes before we had to serve dinner was just a nightmare, despite Lukas' constant reminder that the world was not, in fact, coming to an end. Braggi pitched a fit when I told him to actually DO something rather than stand about, and I required a smoke break, where Lukas continually told me to "STOP FREAKING OUT!!!" Merf.
La la la la. Work going well, Invar enjoying his giant mug of doom, sleip-goers enjoying the new teal lightbulb in the smokeshack, kitchen staff enjoying crazy hip-hop musikk altid... I swear to god, I've listened to nothing but Tungtvann, Klovner i Kamp, and Atmosphere for days..I guess that's what happens when your data is being retarded and Lukas gets to play DJ. At least he has superb taste.
Whatever. Blah, blah, blah.
Some people are like tofu-- hard to dislike because you can turn them into anything
Jun. 22nd, 2005 @ 11:59 pm
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| » petty thug. |
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In about twenty minutes, I'm gonna go make some bad art. And be eaten by every mosquito this side of Bemidji.
Accomplishment for today: Realizing just how much Plato really means, especially since we realize that all we're staring at are shadows. There's an inherent paradox in that statement. Whoever tells me what it is first gets a kiss.
Jun. 16th, 2005 @ 08:50 pm
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| » Unbearably lame thoughts on a Tuesday morning. |
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Do you ever feel like there's a certain layer of bullshit over every bit of "deep" conversation that takes place, especially when you're first trying to establish a new relationship, be it romantic or platonic? I do. I doubt strongly, however, that I am the only person who ever experiences this. I find myself asking prepared and established "deep" questions, dishing up prepared and established "thoughtful" answers, wishing that they reflected what I felt, but knowing acutely that they don't. Once and a while, a little hint of what I actually think/feel/want to know surfaces, but it is fleeting and frustrating, because I do not yet know how to determine (let alone say) what I actually think/feel/want to know.
Also, I smoke too much. Ugh.
Lars is singing Delillos at the top of his lungs, and it's making my day a little more special.
Jun. 14th, 2005 @ 04:01 pm
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| » What's with these homies dissin' my girl? |
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Yeah, I know I'm a bit obsessive avec la mewithoutYou, but it's just. So. Good. Inappropriately, I had "Torches Together" smashed into that one Louis XIV so ng that Astrid constantly plays, accurately reflecting the certain amount of insanity that I find every day at work. Not that I expected otherwise, that is.
I'm beginning to hate that fucking user pic that I have up. It's so sickly sweet and cute.
Children showed up today. I've forgotten how small they are at that age-- they look five to me, but for all I know they could have been anywhere from three to twelve, I'm so inept at gauging children's ages.
Should have gone to bed hours ago-- I could definitely have no trouble falling asleep. Alas, there's too much I'd rather do. And, besides-- I have tomorrow to sleep.
Merf. I don't know why I write anything here anymore. Nobody reads it. Hell, I don't even read it. Of all the bits of writing I've ever produced, this is the least interesting. Aside from the Wilde, that is.
Why do you get all the love in the world?
Whooooooooooooooooo. All of the inspiration I had last night in bed has now dissipated, and it's just all gone, and mute, and blind, and all those horrible sensory deprivation-type atrocities.
Jun. 13th, 2005 @ 10:08 pm
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