Merlot and Dr. Pepper

So I didn't get a synthesizer.
Bummer, but I went to Steve's today to check out the sales for this generous day that is boxing, day and wasn't surprised. They cost more then Elizabeth's ass.
Maybe I'll just get a keyboard.
But, I got an ipod from the family. I've already lost a few. A pattern is occurring.
Went down to the market, all the best stores were locked. Got into a few, gave up and bought a burrito. The ultimate give-up.
That's been christmas. Mixed with a bit of redundant parties, some 20-some great aunts, and the best sweet potatoes freedom can afford and Christmas is just as glamorous as New York City's'.

Side note, Merlot and Dr. Pepper. Aces.

I was scared, for so long because I felt like that immaculate, uncensored, honest feeling of this season had outgrown me. When you're family doesn't laugh at everything you say because what you say isn't innocent, because they know you aren't oblivious, because they treat you like an adult because you are one. It really is the worst, when the people you thought loved you the most were so gentle and courteous because you were young, you were fragile. You're a young adult now you've basically been to Vietnam, Germany, and Iraq- your treated as a veteran. You know life sucks, they know it too, you mutually fall upon a silent agreement that talking for the sake of talking won't propel any of your conversations. So they ask,

"How's your acting going?"

"Good, really good. Doing the best I can."

"Oh of course, don't forget us when you're famous."

Clever.

And every single one of them means it differently when they say it. So it never dries.

And in the midst of those redundant parties with the great aunts and uncles, and my Merlot and Dr. pepper my little cousin grabs my arm and pulls me into the other room, and tells me to play with her.

"Play what?"

"Play!"

And I knew what she meant. And I told her we were in the jungle and we were hunting for treasure. And we had ballgowns on, and we had puppies, and the treasure would take us to Disney Land. And that lasted a good 30 seconds. Not surprisingly.

So now we're playing house. She's my dog, I'm her lovable owner.

And I'm watching her crawling on the ground and I'm looking out into the other room at the great aunts and uncles and I'm thinking.

They treat her like a princess. I know where she is right now, fuck it's the best feeling in the world when people fuss over you and give you just what you asked for. You get your synthesizer. She's only 6 but she will remember every single Christmas. Because everyone is here, because this is the only time she will get what she wants. She's forever away from having to make choices, having to suck it up and grow up.
And I want to leave her because I'm bored but I can't, because I have to give this to her, I have to let her play. No one else will, and I guarantee she will remember this Christmas for the rest of her life, because I gave her what she wanted. When you're young it's never the gifts you remember or when you're older, miss, but it's just when you're given more love then you will ever feel for the rest of your life. People can't help but love you when they know you don't know better.

That feeling will never leave her.

So I saw her, and I saw that point in my life in Aunt Dorothy's basement, and I surrounded by relatives I didn't know and didn't really care for but who loved me effortlessly. And I felt it all again. I think there's a lot you can let go of. Memories that will always leave you. These ones don't. Don't hunt them down and ring them dry. Just feel the wave when it hits you, for however many seconds that is.

Take away for Today:
Leah Hennessey and Max Lakner
http://babymanque.com/index.html

Man oh man.

sitting in the office.
i am. an intern.
freaks and keaners in and out. one guy has a necklace with winston churchill on it.
i need it.
xmas shopping done. bought a few unnecessary presents for people i wanted to cozy up to. and a few gifts for old reliable friends and confidants. even if our archieve of secrets is outdated.
i bought the office folk a new coffee pot. the old one smells like ass. it was needed. less of a gift and more of a I'm-worried-about-you-not-seeing-your-kids-graduate shpeel.
ben's coming in a bit. we're busing home. maybe get some caffeine.

(SMILE)


havn't had coffee all day and i feel like i'm going to start perspiring anger. it looks like tabasco sauce in my mind. if you needed a visual. smells like Lone Star restaurant.
but. i like being addicted to it. it's a mutual courtesy we both have. my body needs it to survive and it needs me to boast about it.
but black. black coffee. too much glam in a coffee is awful. my coffee is unshaven.
christmas break is here. i'm ready for the celebration. i'm ready to see family. and i'm ready to relax. something I haven't done in a while.
but have earned a new respect for.

take care everyone.
love.
SJ

"...and what her mind melts."

woke up at a party.
friend walks in the room and goes "shit someone wrote a novel"
he's holding a pile of post it notes.
here's what was written that night. in the raw. unedited. bear with the spelling.
i bet you feel special:

So she sat in the kitchen, Drinking black coffee, unsatisfied with the high. Caffine could stimulate her text, but not her libido. She was brilliant when she was drunk. Mindless in her reverse. Numb with diaologue. No one cares when your drunk. It's assumed your thoughts are manicured. Blanched with liquor - that ignites inhibition, honesty, and jealousy. So she relies on her pen to relieve herself in the midst of angst. Coffee and cigarettes a companion before the caloused hand of sober personel. People can only give you so much of what you already have. Problems you already had and have no time for. It's not nice to unsurface that old black and white childrens novel. You have wisdom thats too arrogent to enlighten and friends to stubborn to accept the voice of reason. Reasonably speaking - reason depends on the person. Coffee and cigarettes. Two of the greatest kicks you will ever be introduced to. You can feel sex in your thighs, man you can feel cigarettes in your calves. What 3:52 in the morning. Fuck steve. I'm smoking in the house. Everyone's asleep and she's drinking coffee and having the best damn cigarette she's ever had. Jessies neck is out, chen's being a friend, Liza ad Dodson are fucking and she's content. Lonliness is as asset. It teaches you to be realistic with yourself. Forces you to embrace shit and your own bullshit. Bordum can lead to great things for an artist. Take me. Had friends who worshipped the bible and played truth or dare at birthday parties. Now she's fucking every week, addicted to caffine, and drinks brandy to relieve emotional instability.
But thats the cost of beauty.
Fuck.
Dropped the cigarette in the noodles. What the fuck. Can't even flick a fucking ash and its in the noodle sauce. Fuck it it taste fine.
The sound of hot ash hitting a wet surface.
Ace.
5:59
4:00
Perfect.
Even. Even numbers fuck me up. What wants to be even. Being fair is bullshit. Why not fondle rucass. Being even has never taught anyone anything. The joy of winning, the mediocrity of falling just short. Never created war, never introduced democracy, or flaws in communism. Games, gambling, drinking, anorexia, divorce. Being even is the end all be all of history.
Being even to others will never introduce humour. We all fight to be more interesting that others, to impress. If we're all even then we're stationary. Everyone might as well be friends. Again, bullshit.
Smoke in the eye.
Balls.
Blinking it out. Gone. Thank Christ.
Stabs the cig in a wet plate.
Hisses.
Cat ticks behind her against the tiles.
And she wishes she had someone to come out and watch her. Someone who cared about her. Who understood and got her art. dillusional art. Who she could play demure to but really by super fucking flattered they showed up and started a conversation dispite sleep sickness at 4:07AM. She wishes that person was reckless and impulsive. A night and morning person. Had a taste for everything. Respected their parents but found away around guidelines.
And she's at a loss.
She doesn't wish she was prettier, she just wishes she had less pimples. She doesn't wish she was skinnier, she just wishes she had a better metabolism. She just wishes, fuck, a guy or girl could read her mind and share her electricity for life. Pessimism is old and 90s and Nirvana. She just wants to live the best life she can and won't let a bad moment or money or disbelief inhibit her from running as fast as she can. High. Down a street. Covered with trees. Alone. Dodging. Hitting branches. Getting scarred. Acknowledging the blood. Making her self better. Learning. Moving on. Craddling every moment as a chance experience. Pure oxygen.
No. No one will ever understand that.
Ever.
It's too real.
And we're 17 and we live in disney. And we're trying to find ourselves and we live in a fog of opportunity and personalities and no one knows what belongs to whom. But She does.
She's found hers. And she's lonely. Because the ones she loves will only find it in another few years. And she'll have to live alone that much longer. Perhaps a change of scene will spark a new title of bodies. Who may know her, and what her mind melts. But who knows.
No one knows how to chase what they love.
She will chase it until she is blue in the face. Until she is crucified.
Know what you love, love what you do and do it for the rest of your life. That's real. That's adolesence. Not trying to escape your house and find yourself. You've already found yourself, the next step is embracing it.

-**********
4:19
Dec/2009

take away for today:
www.brettisagirl.com
awesome artist. my favourite is togetherness. i bought a few prints for my friends this xmas.