Posts (page 2)

                                   "The night will go on, my little Windmill..."

                                                                   -- Blink 182

Please note:

Limit drinking through straws and smoking to avoid repetitive facial motions that may cause wrinkles

Dusk is the best time to gaze at bats

If, when saying goodbye, the feeling that this will be the last time persists, then it probably will be

One blue pill aids in sleep, two will cause grogginess and grumpiness upon waking

Some people are relentless in their indifference

I will never be able to settle for anything less than what I'm already conditioned to endure/embrace

"I guess I need to know what it would have felt like to be right." 
             --Texas Is The Reason

I allowed myself one day to be upset and that's all.  Tomorrow when I wake up I'm done feeling sad.  Crying is generally unproductive bullshit and I'm more upset at how bleak the future looks when I can't even trust someone's self-representation than I am about the person in question. 

Jessica gave me a card that said "Pretty One" on the front.  And inside it said:

"Dear Rachel,

I love you so much.  I will murder any boy who is mean to you."

I had a boyfriend and now I don't and I don't really want to talk about it. 

That was fast and strange.  Like, did that even happen or was it some dream?

I guess I have the mix cds to prove that it did.  Though I'm kinda wishing I didn't.

Sometimes it seems like the only people who want me are unstable, unavailable, or just not thinking clearly.

What kind of lunatic falls so hard so fast and believes everything she hears?  Oh but it felt so awesome.  For a minute there I felt so warm and safe.  I had this glimpse of what it could be like...

And to say I'm let down is an understatement.

I maintain that I meant every word I said.  I have to do this for my own sanity and strength of heart. 

I only consumed tea and fruit all day, I just chewed some blue pills and I'm feeling sleepy.  I hope my mom comes over this weekend.  I wish I was seeing Psyched to Die this week.  I wish I had places to go, I wish there was someplace I really wanted to be.

How do you recover from someone singing Gold Soundz in your ear?

[1:53:52 pm]G:  on the next episode... you may want to get a divorce and end up with your beloved Gunther... You could kiss for the 100 episodes left... oooooooooooh

[1:54:12 pm]Rachel:  You're an ass. ha

[2:00:09 pm]G:  [YELLING] I don't like this spaghetti!!

[2:02:01 pm]G:  this life is unbearable...!!

[2:02:15 pm]G:  [BREAKING THE FREAKING TV]

[2:02:31 pm]Rachel:  hahaha

[2:03:01 pm]G:  [GUNTHER RUSHING IN TO SAVE YOU]

[2:04:38 pm]G:  Save me Gunther" said Rachel

[2:05:02 pm]G:  "I will, love" said Gunther in a squeakish voice

[2:06:15 pm]Rachel:  haha. sigh

[2:06:30 pm]G:  I call the police... accusing Gunther of break and entry.

[2:06:48 pm]G:  Gunther goes to jail

[2:07:24 pm]G:  I buy Rachel a white turkish kitten with green eyes.. Rachel forgives me and we live happily ever after

[2:07:28 pm]G:  THE END

[2:07:34 pm]Rachel:  hahahaha

Oh the teasing I endure. 

Please note, my love is not easily purchased with kittens. 

Over and out

I drove so fast

Hollis Gillespie is killer because she makes you feel impervious to the sadness of the world by writing essays that make you LAUGH.  You get this false sense of safety, everything in this story will turn out okay, this bitch is too crazy to let me down. 

If she never jabbed the knife in that'd be the let down.

Excerpt:  (why am I doing this to myself?)

"Tom told me how he had lost his former job as a chauffer in Atlantic City because he stopped the limo on the freway to save a dog struck by a car, stuffing the injured animal into the front seat and ignoring the irate complaints of the paying passenger in the back as he detoured to the animal hospital.  "He was just lying there on the emergency lane with his legs broken but sitting up, you know, watching the cars pass,"  Tom recalled of the dog.  "Every time a car went by it would ruffle the fur on his coat."

As we belted more margaritas he kept talking about the dog. Stupidly, I thought he regretted losing his job as a driver.  But I should have seen the signs.  I should have seen Tom's eyes--big, spaniel eyes rounded in regret--and his hands, cupping and uncupping his margarita glass in painful reminiscence.  "hey," I said nervously when I saw the tears start to well up in his eyes.  "Hey, Tom.  So you lost your crappy job carting people around, so what?"

Then he told me the truth.  He hadn't saved the dog after all.  As his limo passed the animal on the road, the wind ruffled the fur on it's coat.  He'd hated himself ever since, hated himself for not even slowing down as the dog looked up hopefully.  Sometimes, though, Tom would rewrite history and see himself stopping the car laying the injured animal in the front seat, oblivious to the bitching from the passenger in the back.  But Tom was incapable of maintaining this fake recollection, and after enough margaritas the truth would return.  "I should have stopped," he said softly, then his big eyes began to leak."

I haven't stopped thinking of this since I read it.  It reminded me of something so awful I don't have the guts to write it down, even now.

I love Tom because at least he knew he should've stopped, and next time I know he will stop.  But most people-  most people wouldn't give it much thought after they kept on going. 

People think I'm insufferable because I don't accept excuses or flimsy reasoning.  When they're looking for someone to comfort them because of the shitty things they've done, I won't do it.  And I don't allow myself that reprieve either. 

CONVENIENCE.  That's all it's about.  People don't want someone else's blood dripping around on the clean surface of whatever facade they've built.  They don't want to DEAL with it, pull over, spend money, extend themselves any further than absolutely necessary to get by.  This kind of living will render someone utterly unforgettable.  Why bother sucking air at all?  Passing hours and years eat everything we create.  The only things that last are memories and the dents we make in other lives.  What's a hundred bucks or a late arrival to an appointment compared to the gratitude a needy person or a dying animal would show you if you just stopped and helped?  What's a few bags of cat food, the minor inconvenience of fostering a homeless or lost animal for a couple of months if you could help it and give the gift of warmth and love to somebody else as a payoff?

How could anyone ignore a starving or bleeding animal?  A PERSON?

Demented bliss

To the woman who called while I was at the Humane Society the other day wanting to know if she could ditch her cat there, at a facility that uses euthanasia, because it was shedding too much and her baby was learning to crawl:

So, you say your cat's shedding IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER, eh?  Weird

Invest in a BRUSH, for starters, you daft, parasitic freak.  Kind of frightening that you're the mother of an infant, yet you can't wrack your brain hard enough to find a way to maintain this animal until you find it a home, a responsibility you took on when you presumably chose to become the owner of a pet.  I think it's reprehensible that someone would rather shove their responsibility off onto someone else than live with a minor inconvenience until a living creature was placed safely in a good home where it belongs.  The Humane Society is full to the max right now, not only is there no room for new animals, but choosing to abandon an animal there when other options are available, even if it is adopted, puts one more cat at risk for euthanasia.  How is it okay to choose convenience over compassion for another creature?  So what if you have to spend time maintaining a cat's coat?  That is something you should've been doing the entire time anyway.  So what if it's a hassle, if you have to make some calls or write some email, vacuum a carpet, use a lint roller-  isn't it worth it if you can find your pet a loving home?  Would it be so terrible to just do the right thing?

Lately, when people come to me feeling crummy about something they've done and they want me to say it's okay, you had to!--sometimes you HAVE to avoid responsibility/throw someone under the bus/act like an asshole--when they're looking for justification and sympathy, I just can't give it to them.  I really don't care.  So good luck with your atonement and all. 

Things I'm grateful for:

Friends who are around
Chuck fixing my broken machine/giving me photoshop/giving me pizza
Travis

Things I'm excited about:

Samiam in Portland/Block Party/Wicked
A dirty, loud, chaotic night with pretty fireworks and trash blowing softly in the breeze
Letting the Right One in

It's okay, I was still impressed