Take a look at your promised land, that deed is that gun in your hand

only five dollars. awesomest boots ever.
little cow. my favorite. she's always perched on my shoulder like a parrot. :)

Hope I do Turn Into You

I feel so very warm. The warm happy feeling that overwhelms you when you've smoked three bowls and you're listening to the yyy's at an unimagineable volume, singing your heart out with a cigarette dangling between your lips.... goodness. So overhelming! I need to go to sleep or something, my mind is unraveling at an alarming rate. I told myself "a day off" but who am I kidding? Just so happens that Danzig aka Alex aka Jas' ex wants to come over with some "field weed" and his new piece. So he shows with his hair in rasta cap and a misfits shirt with etnies and his piece all hidden in his rasta cap and hair nest. So strange. We shared two bowls among the three of us (himmejames) and watched the kittens and whatnot. Randomly conversing. He bid us farewell with a parting bowl and now I'm just like... gone. Nowhere. Something that really isn't anything, just me overanalyzing that it COULD be something, but in reality is nothing whatsoever and I'm just neurotic. What a fun entry this is turning out to be. It is my peaceoffering-makeupsex entry for all of the shitty ones I've been barfing out lately. My life. Always the more interesting on drugs, I'm afraid. Well, not afraid, but find it sometimes very true. Like, I was going through all the pictures and there was a roll of the nite Jas and I drank a whole bottle of blueberry vodka because we didn't think a shrooms connection would come through... and then it did... so we ate shrooms ON TOP OF THAT and went to Adam's, screaming in the car the entire time and singing that one song... Mickey something? But yeah, that was so wild. One of the most interesting experiences when I look back on it. And the next day, Father's day, finishing off what was left of the shrooms in the morning and going to Paris on the Platte for greens and sandwiches and then standing in the Platte river, so cold. That's really all we wanted to do. Stand in that fucking river. Legendary.

Ok I'm shaking so bad, off to bed with me.

Hechos a Mano

Life has been wonderful. Lots of bike riding and art messing. I've been sort of hanging out with that boy PJ (pablo) from work. I like him alot. I always fall in love with new friends. He took me to Derailer which is this junkyard bike garage where you can build your own bike or get help from a mechanic to fix your bike... FOR FREE! We're going back on Thursday so I can get a new fork for my Peugot and perhaps a new brake system installed. Finally I'll have my own bike to cruise the streets on instead of this frankenbike I've been using for the past month. I've been thrifting alot, trying to find a polo striped dress for my Margot costume but uh, have finally given up after about five different trips to several different stores. I finally just bought this vintage wedding dress that looks so fucking creepygorgeous and am going to be like... something, I don't know, I don't care. But it goes all the way down to the floor and buttons all the way up to my chin and all the way down my arms. SO FUCKING CREEPY. I kind of don't want to trash it so I can wear it again, but really, when will I ever have use for a vintage wedding dress anyway. James got eight rolls of film developed yesterday, spanning about a year, and it was so amazing looking at the pictures. Most of them are of me and it's just funny how much I change hairstyles and images. Despite my bad skin and strange figure, they're all quite striking. I want to go into modeling, but not just for anyone or anything. I don't want to be just another face in a magazine or on an internet page. I'd rather be in galleries, even nude photography. Gotta figure that out. I've finally decided on a tattoo. "Verte Mort" on my wrist which stands for "dead leaves" which is what the French call girls with my color of hair. VERTE MORT! It'll be simple and cheap and that's all I need right now. An initiation ink. Oh, and yesterday was the first snow. :) Very pretty. I have no idea what I'll do during winter about transportation. Today was bad enough and most of the snow has melted. My jacket, which is this long grey duster with a huge hood, got all caught in my gears and the back tire and now it's all dirty again. Eh whatever. Most everything I own is trashed so I guess I might as well just deal with it.


Uh yeah. It's hard when you haven't updated in a while to really recall and write a good entry so I'm fini' with this. Love to you.

Grape Fags

I've been reading all nite and rolling, hand rolling, small cigarettes with grape papers, inhaling lightly and letting small puffs of smoke escape before I suck them in again... like Jas used to do. I'm just in a funk today. And was yesterday. We spent yesterday with Matt, not our roommate-our connek, and Ben, the guitarist of James' band and such. Matt just got dumped by who he says is an amazing girl. "She plays the piano, she sings, she plays the piano and sings, she plays the piano and sings NAKED... oh my god..." I feel for him. I met her a few times and she was gorgeous and funny and drank alot of beer. Which is a plus. But you know, shit happens. We smoked some of his amazing skunk and James and I raced them to Las Fuentas on our bikes. I BEAT EVERYONE. Kus I'm a speeddemon or something and we had a delicious authentic mexican meal and I drank the equivalant of chai... which is like almond milk and cinnamon and something else... but of course, tons better then something you could get at Starbucks. We drove Matt back to Aurora and went thrifting with Ben. Now that I'm not all moody and PMSing, I dared to try on jeans again and found two perfect pairs my first time around. Yar... I always seem to buy secondhand Express, The Limited, Gap and whatever else you'd consider to be a semi-high class store shit. It just calls to me. And I scoff and laugh at the thought of getting this stuff for like five bucks. In your face, or something. But I started to feel out of it after the third bowl and just wanted nothing but to sleep and feel peaceful. But we were driving everyfuckingwhere, I depressed myself into a panic and fell dead asleep as soon as I got home. I hate evenings that end like that.
I opened this morning and actually got to bar today during the rush, surprise surprise. Perhaps they're becoming more confident in me as a barista, which, whatever-I don't really care as long as I get decent hours and a paycheck, but atleast I can work on improving. I did okay, still made a mess, but meh. Ryan double barred with me, my assistant manager, and he makes me smile.
Yeah....
Since then, I've been reading like crazy to keep myself from falling into this dark hole that's suddenly opened infront of me from last nite and doing okay. My head feels like hot lead, so hot it's cold. That's the only way I can accurately describe this terrible feeling. Perhaps I have a fever, I have no idea. My hair is all ratty and gnatted and I've been hunkering in James' Marley hoodie because it smells like him. He's been gone most of the nite at practice. Something always feel amiss in the house when he's not here. Things slow and a quiet dread settles in. I hate and love that I feel his presence when he gets home immediately and perk up like some addict. He makes me feel good, that's all there is to it. We've been reading together before bed, it's cute.
But this house is kind of destroying me. More so the animals. We have six kittens running around downstairs all the time, the dog annoying them and destroying things and just being a dick and the cat has become increasingly aggressive with food and will snatch things off the counter, eat all the food we set out for her AND her babies and meow at you constantly while you're eating. If you try to feed her something off your finger, expect to be bitten because she's gotten all raveanous since giving birth. There are two many beings in this damn house. We're not going to keep any kittens at all and have one more week of this madness and then we're dropping them at a shelter. I feel somewhat guilty abandoning them so soon, but seriously, none of us can handle them anymore.
This makes me second guess about vet school, but I'll just push it aside because that's an opportunity I can't pass up.
Bleh. I need some serious rest and a blood transfusion.

When my soul starts growing

I have so many tiny weird little hickies all over my neck and chest and thighs, it's pretty sexy. I also reak of coffee and cigarettes and kittens and I'm supposed to be meeting Tommy for some hookahing, but I really don't feel like driving to Aurora. How do I get out of this? I really just want James to get home so we can go on a bike ride and smoke a spliff under some bridge, watching the leaves flow by in the dirty sewer water. I talked to Jas Sunday and her rich, whiskey poisoned voice was a savior to my heart and ears. I missed you, sugarplum. This distance is so fucking annoying at times, but I see us doing big things and reuniting someday, you know it, in Europe on our stupid vespas in our stupid dream. :) I got a pretty silver sparrow case for my cigarettes and am antsy for my paycheck. I specifically asked to work Halloween because supposedly you can dress up at work and for some reason that's extremely exciting to me to be out of uniform at Starbucks, making lattes as Margot Tennebaum with my finger prosthetic and bored expression. HA! The simple shit that amuses me.

Now I'm shaking from hunger, so sorry this entry sucks.

Seasonal Complacency

It's rainy and dreary and so autumn out, I love it. We're at my parents' right now, James & I, about to feast on mangos and roasted veggies and chocolate chip muffins. It smells like the holidays and I've come down with a bit of seasonal complacency. I think I am most happy during fall & winter. Perhaps because I'm a January baby? I don't know, I just think people aren't as stuck up and in a rush around these times. There's a lot of couples taking their time in Starbucks, talking over coffee, the tips of their sneakers brushing the other's. We went thrifting with my mom and she found me this totally punk rock jacket that's button up and giraffe print? I love it. I'm going to litter it with patches and buttons like the old days. I got a poofy pink bubble hat and some "new" jeans. My mom is tinier than I am now, barely breaking 100lbs. Everything she wears looks cute on her and I hate the skinny stereotype for that, but it's true. You can get away with wearing pretty much anything with no meat on your bones. I've started rolling my own cigarettes and they taste so much better, so much nicer to smoke. Got a bunch of rolling tubes with filters already attached and a small hand-held cigarette roller that you pack full of tobacco and slide around a few times and bam, a perfect delicious cigarette. James got these champagne flavored cloves that are so dangerously delicious. Must not start the cloves up again, then I'll surely die before I'm 30. I'd like to atleast break 40? ;) This season also reminds me of James' and my tiny apartment and the way our love was back then, totally engrossed in eachother's hair it was unnerving at times. We're doing so much better and find time to touch lips longer and more often. I love it. Saturday we walked around the neighborhood and bought cake donuts, maple and blueberry and sourcream with powdered sugar, and ate them in the grass of some Elementary school. Kissing between bites and sharing. Smoking brown spliffs in the mornings and drawing more. It's nice.
So my Grandpa has offered to pay my way through Vet school, as long as I finish with flying colors and keep a fulltime job while going and as long as I got straight into my field afterwards. I'm going to accept his offer. I think this could be what I need, a nice hard shove and a hand up at the same time. I know that I won't be able to dick around because if I mess up, there's no way out of this that won't create a rift in the family. In a way, I'm apprehensive because I feel he'll hold it against me all my life. It wouldn't be a surprise if he did. But really, my parents can't afford the burden of my education any more, them both unemployed, and I sure as hell can't with my tiny paychecks. Going into debt for education is so fucking stupid so I'm going to Vet school. Eek. This time next year, I'll be a completely different girl I suppose.
Freaks me out, but if change didn't scare the shit out of you before filling you with relief, what would be the fun of putting yourself completely out there? I'm nervous, but an electric kind of hopeful nervous.

Lunacy

Good news: I'm very obviously not pregnant because bad news: I'm about to die of shock from how terrible these cramps are. I'd forgotten how bad I get them without birth control. So I'm a raving bitch this morning, screaming at everything that annoys me. My attempt at walking the dog left me sitting in the grass, crying, out of frustration and pain. AND I have to work today, a closing shift. MIDOLLLL. We tried getting my bike fixed yesterday at Salvagetti's (sp?) but the front fork is actually bent inwards severely, which we didn't know, which with one wrong bump could send it snapping and me face first into the pavement. So we can't replace that until next Wednesday. That's about $20. I need a new brake system, of course, which is another $40+. To get it fixy, I'd need about $175, but they'll strip the gears for $5 a gear, I think? So yeah, that's a shitton of money just to fix up this bike. We went pawnshopping and thrifting in hopes of finding a quick fix bike, but they were all either clunkers or in the $80-$200 range. We did come across a really sweet military mountain bike that looked like it could destroy a car. About $300, second-hand. I thought about buying a go-ped, but how stupid would I look on one of those things, damn...
So we just went thrifting for a while and every pair of pants I tried on wouldn't fit over my ass. I'm gaining weight like crazy and somedays love it, most days hate it. It's so uncomfortable gaining weight. I don't mind the extra pounds and curves because I've never been one to have them, but these pants and these cramps are not meshing well. I just want to lay in bed all day and smoke cloves, drink hot chocolate and watch the Independent Film Channel. Like I have any of those. Maybe hot chocolate. But I've been bad and stealing drags from James' cloves, which I've missed so much. We rolled a blunt last nite and smoked all of it to ourselves and smoking his cigarettes was the most I could do to keep from losing it. We went through all of our art and critiqued it. And I've been thinking about this alot lately, but I want to go back to Rocky Mountain College of Art & Design. Perhaps I could get a portfolio scholarship like last time. I don't think I'd survive vet tech school, even if it is only 8 months or whatever. But I sure as hell cannot work for Starbucks forever. I know I will snap one day in the middle of a Frapuccino rush and start chucking blenders.
I HATE FRAPUCCINOS! If you're going to come to Starbucks, get coffee or tea or something that's actually considered a bar drink. If you want a sugar packed terrible tasting cup of shit, go next door to 7-11.

Oh! I got my think tank tattoo gift certificate. $50. I think it's $50 an hour there... so perhaps I can use this to get something small somewhere. Must do some research on that. But I forsee this becoming an addiction to replace other addictions in my life and probably running me into debt. ...How much do tattoo guns run?

:/

Ramen with Chile Sauce

The other day I was walking home from work and this older black guy with a cane flagged me down from across the street and asked me to come talk to him. I did. His name was Andre' and he had no front teeth and was drinking a sparks. Was lit because he couldn't get that dopey smile off of his face for a second to actually compose an intelligent thought. The more we talked, the more he eyed me up and down and the worse the subject matter got. Then he said, "Well I'm a freak and I can tell you're a freak and I wanna freak with you" and proceeded to grab me and grope me. It was terrifying and I just thrashed out of his grip and walked home crying. Some guy was painting a house ten feet away and didn't do anything at all. And while tears are running down my face, some fat guy in a minivan rolls by, flicking his tongue in and out at me. I used to be okay with living in this neighborhood. And I still am for the most part, but I can't stand being objectified like this on a daily basis. I just hurt inside because no matter what I do, I still can't gain respect from scumbags because of sex and the media and how distorted their view of women has become.
As soon as the lease is up in this house, I'm going to move over seas. I'm going to start saving now and just get out of here. This country is going to hell. Think about it and come with me.

I've nearly stopped smoking. Three cigarettes in the past couple of days. An accomplishment. I feel the difference. Last nite after practice, James and Adam and I all drove out to pick up a sack from some guy like thirty minutes away. Everyone is dry so whatever. I love it when you haven't smoked in a few days from lack of green and then just inhale the smell of it. I'll never get tired of that scent. Lovely skunky scent. So we drove home, baking the car and dancing to Parliament, swerving around on the high way. I realized that all of my negative emotions and feelings are all in my head and I can alter my mood by just coaxing myself to calm down and enjoy the moment. I felt so good last nite. Better then I have in a very very long time. We came home and I slipped into a smoothie bath and wrote Rachel for a while. Then James stole me away upstairs and we ravaged eachother. He's kissing me and says, "I don't kiss you enough. I'm so sorry," and proceeds to attack me all over. Perfect.

Two more days and then I finally get a day off. Going to fix my french bike and spend it at a park taking pictures.

Screw

Laundry.
My new project, unfini.

So I've been feeling queasy in the mornings and I went off birthcontrol some time ago, not exactly sure, and I know flow is late. It's nerve racking and I've been having dreams about James and I building a house on rollers in the ocean (so you can feel the tide come in), holding a small child. I told him yesterday that I think that I could be... well you know. We took the dog for a walk and talked about it. Neither of us are ready or really want to be. There'd be no way to support something like this. We talked about abortion :/ and how it's all situational. He talked about adoption. Anyway, I guess we're waiting another two weeks to see if perhaps this is just my body getting used to being without fake hormones and the like and if not... I guess we'll deal with that when we get there. Absolutely there's no way we'd keep and raise a child right now. And yeah.

Pregnancy scares. Blah.

I stayed home with Matt last nite while James was playing his show and listened to him play Pumpkins songs all nite while painting that shelf. That thing was screwed to the wall and we were drinking 40's of mexican cerveza and I screamed at the stupidity of some fucker nailing a shelf like that to a wall. But it's nowhere near finished and if I could make a living painting furniture, that'd be enough for me right now. Matt drank more than me and we ended up just talking for two hours or so. I really like Matt. Especially when he's drunk because he lets his guard down and rambles alot and you can basically ask him anything. He wants to buy a house when our lease is up. I don't even know where James and I will be come another six months, but it's chilling to think. We could be at opposite ends of the country or even the world, really. Who knows...

I've also been having lots of panic attack scares. They'll start to come on and I'll wrestle them away only to be breathless for two hours or until I just fall asleep. Stressful. I hate the feeling of not being able to get a decent breath. And all I want is for my body to just do it and get it over with, but no, it only teases me, keeping me in some kind of boundary. I really need to quit smoking already.

How long have I been ranting about this? Seriously, slap me.

Fall Fell

It's so beautiful out. Fall is everywhere, finally, and all the trees are turning. This is the best time of the year, always.

Snapshots as of Late

Sweet.

James.
How he sneaks in these weird faces, I don't know.
Fugee-love.
Boycotting makeup, happy with my face as is.
She's lucky she's cute because Lola is such a pain in the ass. And lately has been such a terror to this house. BUT, whatever...

Sunday Mornings

I love Sunday mornings. For some reason, the world is quieter and more at peace. I refuse to link this to the fact today is a holy day or that everyone is at worship, blah blah blah. I think Sunday mornings have just become that day of rest and regeneration, regardless if you have a religious affiliation.

This weekend has been up & down. I got my paycheck... but turns out I'm not on the $8.25 payrate like they said I might be so the check was considerably less money then I had expected. James was nice enough to let me pay him back in installments of $100 because if I gave him everything I owe him now.. I'd be penniless again. So frustrating. But yesterday I went and sold all of my skinny pants except for the first two pairs I ever bought, which are soft and worn and full of holes like I like em, and went thrifting for work clothes and the like. I'm just tired of tight pegged pants. Yeah whatever, they're cute, but they were cuter when every fucking girl wasn't walking around wearing them... or every guy for that matter. So I'm resorting back to the good ol' boot cut style and my gold flats. I'm tired of trendy fashions and being considered scene and all of that bullshit. Plus skinny pants are not the most comfortable pants in the world.

Yeah anyway, like pants really matter all that much anyway.

I had been cigarette free for two days, but the other nite James and I got ridiculously stoned and I had to cave. I couldn't stop fidgeting and and and.. excuses. We were laughing so hard we were crying and I almost peed my pants several times. I haven't laughed that hard since I was like thirteen or some shit. Good times. He and I are much better now. We talked and leveled a little about our relationship and I'm not so worried. Something we did realize is we need to start acting with our lives. I don't want to spend another year doing exactly what I'm doing now. It's depressing both of us and is also hurting our relationship. Or rather, keeping it stagnant. How can you commit yourself fully to someone if you feel you haven't fully accomplished everything in your own life? I can't feel like this failure being his wife... or whatever. It definitely destroys any desire or passion you have after a while, not having an outlet to feel accomplishment in. So, working on that. We're going to get more involved with -gasp- POLITICS and I'm mostly going to focus on art and music. I'm not ready to go back to school, I've realized. I mean, what I want to do right now is make money and save money. Which I'm doing. But I also want to express myself in other ways then journaling and the like. The hardest part is starting so once that's out of the way, things will start falling into place. (I hope)

I have this terrible personality flaw where I'll work really hard to get to one place and then stay there for forever because it's comfortable. Like I have been in this i'materriblefailuredepressedneurotic phase since moving out because moving out is a huge thing to get used to. And now that I'm used to it and went through all that shit to be here, I'm lingering with my next move because of the stress. That's bullshit and I know it which is why I can't let it go on. I don't want to die and just rot in the ground with nothing to show. Ew.

Be well.

Switch

I suppose I can never really get rid of having an online journal... but I can certainly grow out of what I've grown into all these years. Running away from greatestjournal, which is dying anyway. Mostly just tired of the dry, bland taste of journalers that have taken over, creating their rating communities that always die and never really having anything of importance or interest to say at all. Plus, I had to follow my lunalady here and stalk her because she's my heart.

BG- My name is Cassandra and I'm 21, currently residing in Denver, Colorado in the projects outside of the city. I live in a two story house with my boyfriend of a year+, James, and our roommate/friend/drinking buddy, Matt. We've got a pit/lab mix named Lola, a kitty named Fugee and all of her rugrats that she birthed out a month ago or so. I don't go to school, don't know if I ever will go back. The thought of paying for my education sickens me. I can learn just as much if not more with a fucking library card. I work for Starbucks, but it's really not as bad as it sounds. For now atleast. It's money, what can I say? I'm an artist and a lover and a neurotic who's trying to quit smoking and remain off prescription drugs. My dream is to play banjo in a folk/black metal/experimental band and sing, naming ourselves "bruises of love" and recording off of shitty reel to reel tapes. It will happen. Also, to travel and see the world, ride vespas in Europe and leave this country behind. I want to own my own coffee shop/art gallery/venue/book store and be the warm, thriving heart of a community of fellow artfags, musicians and lost creative souls. It seems so far away, but I've had dreams about this. And my name isn't Cassandra for nothing.

Today I finally get paid after three months of being absolutely penniless. I feel so relieved that I'll no longer be failing myself in that department and I can stop all this self destructive behavior. I hate to say, but I'll probably buy a pack of Red Stripe lager, fix my bike up and get lost in some park with my polaroid camera. Really I should be conserving my money, but I haven't been able to do anything for myself and am seriously feeling some disheartening thoughts about that.

love.