hair snaked down the fire escape.

Okay; hello.

Already there is a summer sun: begun by burning a stripe into my shoulder. Fruit stripe gum (if you smell me close).

I am starting The Bruise File. "You have files for everything."
I am aware. I bruise so easily and they come in shapes and colors and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I took a few pictures. Auto immune diseases make your body do really weird things.
It makes me very weak sometimes. I took my Humira this evening. It was a stinging jet of glaring fluid subcutaneously splaying it's dreamy fingers.

Is it strange that the longer in this life I take the subway, the more I become paranoid about it? I've been riding that piece of musclefoil for years, but my anxiety never ceases. Some strange French (he said he was) guy with a giant plank of wood decided it would be a good time to discuss the swine flu and mumble about his ten dollar watch. "Does it look cheap?" He asked me where I was born. I told him right here. He said "Brooklyn?" I told him no, because a. we were not in Brooklyn yet, we were calmly rocketing from Manhattan to Brooklyn and at any second that would be true.... and b. NO I WAS BORN ON THIS TRAIN. I had this image of myself being birthed with the helping hands of construction workers getting off work and a business suit type named Leonard.
Then I snapped back to less than rapt attention.
Then the girl in between us told him to shut up.

Late that night Ian and Fanny and Sasha and some more people and I were drinking and eating and having a great time. I was in the process of erasing all the bad goo out. Flushing my brain pudding into my mush mouth. It was great.

THEN: this morning I woke up sweating next to Fanny. I had dreamed that a man had kidnapped me an beaten me with a hairbrush. Where does this shit come from? I tried to go back into the dream and resolve it, but the damage was done. Why had I gotten into a red pick-up truck with this man who had scary teeth? A perfect stranger.

I have really enjoyed the people I know thoroughly. I have a handful and it makes a fist when I feel a bit alone or compromised. I work on flexing that hand. Bringing my toes justice. Walking it out.

I'm almost done with this Didion and ready for a swap with Shakti. Shakti is a real princess peach. I think she might say "fail" too much because it is very "win" when we stroll the streets. A positive influence, yes. Yes.

This week:
Alex shaved his head, I drank some iced chai, oh spice, spice, I shaved my legs and repaired them with cocoa butter. I climbed to the very top of my bed and blanketed my face in soft fabrics I will tuck under tomorrow. I went to the gym and used a noisy machine and wasn't that embarrassed because it's the YMCA. Someone contacted me to be a babysitter/ companion for a 13 y/o girl and a 16 y/o boy but I am not going to reply because 16 is a really hormonal age and I would be shuffling them to the beach and taking them on errands which sounds great except for a scary rogue erection or being close to the tech generation of autotuned lives. I live pretty skifree so I think it would be a bad idea.
humm. I have a new door.
I have my CR from my CR/NC
working with the kids tomorrow. i want to take them to the beach. hunt for seaglass amongst the dime bags. I'll bring my camera.
Oh<
I have recovered sufficiently enough to interact now. SUMMER SUN: Let's Burn it Down

rising MTA fares and the results in service:

20-Something Party News:

It was a long week last week. I should have had a nice comfortable weekend of reading Elizabeth Bishop. Yet, as is characteristic of people who take three hour tests on a Friday night, I found myself in a metal bar in Yonkers next to the motel where that one channel of porn is free [and awesome]. What's strange about the bar ["the haunt"] is that it was very obviously a run down expansive night club. Interior includes massive disco ball and huge iron doors to separate the club from the "front club." Despite said features, there is no gin at the FIRST bar and you are better off getting the two dollar bud light anyway [somehow]. That sentence lacked sense, but I continue...
When I first stepped in there was a band on from my hometown. They were awful. They were not very metal and the breakdowns did not make me want to start shit on the football sized dancefloor. The next band had a teensy asian man on electric violin whose shredding rivaled eddie van halen's pretty woman intro. Unfortunately the vocals were overwhelmingly styled after chris cornell's. Nothing fit.

The next night was initially spent waiting for the L train. BUT IT NEVER CAME. A drunk man was loose on the tracks and they cut the power to the L and JMZ. I kept doing laps around Union Square unable to come up with an alternative plan to the otherside of the river. In a roundabout way I wound up walking to and waiting outside the U.N. Suddenly sweating swearing and soldiering because some guy with a crowbar was trying to WAKE NYC UP. I kept wishing to be somewhere else, convinced I was going to die in a grisly Law and Order style. Someone's dog was going to pee on my leg at 9am and they would call the police after saying "whats that underneath the cardboard boxes Fido, is that Gazpacho?" Luckily I was picked up and crew stockholm played stip-scrabble.


The morning after the night before, I went bowling with Little Wheeler and Axl Rose and fixed things the veganhardcore way by drinking some olde e and eating a cheeseburger not cooked to order. I even carried a small tree branch over my shoulder to gain perspective on the nature of Williamsburg. Axl picked up where I left off.
Now I'm back in the grind.

Briefly: Today was one of the hardest most patience testing days of work a young turk could hope to handle.

Semi-Regular Event!

Burning that candle:
I made an embarassing mistake the other day. I'm not going to give you full details for fear of being arrested or simply avoided like the human plague I can sometimes be...
Let's just say that instead of taking one medication I took another. One with multiple side effects. During the day. Effects lasting from the tail end of work throughout the school eve.
I only late at night realized my mistake because as is common in my life, my body is unpredictable. Therefore things like lapses in memory, slight visual hallucinations, a mumble-stumble, etc. ARE COMPLETELY POSSIBLE. They are also things I know how to deal with, being treated like a guinea pig in my formative years for a delightful AID that sometimes made me unconcious. The joy!
This will never happen again, as I have now taken it upon my duties to personally make the labels quite discernable from one another.

Other news:
Swingin titties. Every time I'm at the YMCA I want the other ladies v. small a cup titties. I will have to learn how to be in a better mood about my own jugs. GOALS. I HAVE THEM.

20-Something Party news:
This weekend was spent at a few hotspots. I re-met some guy I had conversed with the previous week at Duff's. I saw Manson Family Picnic at Pete's Candy Store [many of my friends showed up and MFP were really bangin for a second show]. I saw David DePoris get his grove on in front of an absolutely abnoxious crowd of NYU students. They were all miserably drunk and the ratio of one dude to hot asian chick was great. Great for them. I was looking for some brothers, or at least people that looked like they hadn't fallen out of their parents wallet in spandex and cocaine covered smocks. Oh, right. I met some lovely ladies. They were on the powder tip and I was on the just got kicked out by security tip. It was fun but I'm off the crazy glitter and I needed a snooze anyhow. This GinCat likes the soft pillows these days. I'm surprised I didn't stay in all the week-end trying to re-watch twin peaks.