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.

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.