| Bliss in Berkeley |
[Mar. 28th, 2006|08:32 am] |
|
Currently, I am smack dab in the middle of beautious Berkeley, California, freindlings. My cousin Julie, who lives here in this paradise that is California invited me to stay with her for an extra week sans parentals (I'll be back April 3rd). Everyday I get up, walk a few miles to a French coffee joint, grab a mocha, walk to my favorite park across from Berkeley High where my homeless friends Mason and Steve reside, roam around the city with said dudes, meet Julie and Braulio and their sweetie-patootie toddler Marco for a homemade vegan delight of a dinner, smoke some California herb, dance to music with Marco, and hit the sack. It is absolute heaven on Earth. Mt. Pleasant is inert, totally and completely so, in comparison to the town of Berkeley which is living and breathing and bustling with wonderfully interesting, kind, and intelligent people. Even the fragmented writing found in the bathroom stalls here is beautiful. For example, while I was pissing in one of the stalls within the bathroom of a tavern whose name escapes me now, I came across a little quip written in green marker on the inside of the stall's swinging door that said "There's no place like H.O.M.E.- Here On Mother Earth." Sometimes I'm so happy here I cry. |
|
|
| Employ the Joy |
[Feb. 23rd, 2006|10:19 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | empowered | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Ani Difranco- Joyful Girl | ] |
Erin lent me her copy of "Autobiography of a Blue-eyed Devil: My Life and Times in a Racist, Imperialist Society," by Inga Muscio and, to quote Micky Sleaze, "I'm lovin' it!" I've been reading it every night before I go to bed and every morning when I wake up. It's just incredible. Muscio's writing is unpretentious, fact-filled, and action-oriented. Her rants are saturated with truths and viable ideas for conquering the white supremacy that is very much (and has always been) at the fore-front of the so-called "United States" of Amerikkka (as she has so brilliantly dubbed this "Nation"). In the first chapter, on pages 36 and 37 (entitled Columbus and the New World Order), Muscio writes;
"I am hurt pretty much every day, but I am a happy, functioning person, with love and laughter in my life. I think I have actually learned to be happier by consciously acknowledging my blessings in the midst of the heartbreak of my environment. When my sister, Liz, called the other day to tell me that her boy, Evan, looked up from a picture he was drawing and sighed and said, 'I miss Inga,' my heart just exploded with joy. I carried that joy around with me for weeks, while forty public schools closed in Detroit due to lack of funding. Thousands of beautiful Iraqi people are killed, injured, and psychologically maimed for life by thousands of beautiful U.S. troops, who are also being killed, injured, and psychologically maimed for life. I carry joy in much the same way that I imagine a soldier carries her gun. It has the power to save my life in detrimental circumstances."
Wow, huh? How many of you feel like that? I mean, truly, where would we be without our every-day joys fastened close to our bodies like weapons of defense, ready to be fired in a moment's notice? Though I can't say for sure, I'm willing to bet we would all be in absolute and complete misery.
So, my loves, when you get to feeling like absolute shit and you don't know if you can handle another second of life in Amerikkka, employ your joy.
Love,
Va. Gina |
|
|
| Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick Ni-Nick, Nick, Nick, NICKELODEON! |
[Jan. 28th, 2006|01:32 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | masticatory | ] |
| [ | music |
| | You Get What You Give by New Radicals | ] |
I keep waking up at an ungodly hour. Today, for instance, I woke up at 6:40. 6:40!!! What is there to do before the buttcrack of dawn? The answer: nothing. So I drank a bunch of coffee and organized my apartment and it is now only 1:30 in the afternoon and I feel as though the day is prematurely old.
In other news, huffing airduster is the most incredible time consumer known to womankind. I've probably inhaled 2.5 bottles of the stuff in the last week and all I have to show for it is a slightly holier brain.
A Girl Named Zippy is this great autobiography about a girl growing up in rural Indiana and I think you all should read it as it is entertaining and very well written.
I wish I had some old, undeveloped disposable cameras; developing pictures from the 7th grade is so satisfying. Satisfying, also, is watching episodes of Pete and Pete, Are You Afraid of the Dark, and Ren and Stimpy from 1992. 1992 was 14 years ago!!! This means that kids born in that year are now in jr. high. O.M.G.!! Whutehfuh?! Sometimes I feel like a senior citizen.
I bought a straightening iron for relativley cheap and have decided, for reasons purely superficial in nature, that I will now take the time to straighten my hair most days. This, of course, probably will not happen. Most likely, I'll simply throw it back in a sloppy bun and head out without showering as per usual. |
|
|
| Llamarama |
[Dec. 25th, 2005|10:24 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | broggle | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Ramsey Lewis Chrismin album | ] |
Happy day o' holly, everyone. I hope you all, like myself, got tons of junk you don't need (and that you never knew you even wanted) and participated in binge drinking joyousness with your families.
I got my Aunt Merrie Jo (who employs me at the testing center) an eighth of pot for Chrismin and plan on smoking about half of it with her on Wednesday after work. Should be fantastic. I've waited years to get high with a relative and it's finally going to happen!
I keep having dreams in which I'm back in high school and going to my senior prom dresses in a wedding gown... Frankie Klackle, you're there, and Carol, so are you. No one else is dressed up, though, and my cuticles are bleeding all over my dress. The dream always ends up with everyone going to lil chef to eat hash browns and smoke pipes.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2005|08:44 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | auto-pilot | ] |
| [ | music |
| | none | ] |
A deep, poetic soul, you are "Silent All These
Years". Your life story is romantically
tragic, and although you may not always be
happy, you can deal. You are probably drawn to
one of the arts: acting, writing, painting...
And your life gives you a muse that is always
happy to sit on your shoulder. Inside,
however, you may feel unfulfilled, unhappy, and
disconnected. Don't worry. There are others
out there who understand your poetry and speak
your language.
Which song from Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes are you?
brought to you by Quizilla |
|
|
| Fiona to perform in Windy City |
[Oct. 6th, 2005|11:02 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | elation | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Extraordinary Machine | ] |
Fiona Apple's magnificent third album is now available to the world and I STRONGLY recommend that everyone buy/download it immediately. ALSO, she's going on tour in November and she'll be playing at a venue in Chicago so I was thinking about getting in touch with Katie B. to see if she'd be interested in going with me. It would be wonderful to get a group of Fiona fans together so if this plan sounds appealing to any of you, give me a call. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Sep. 6th, 2005|02:14 pm] |
|
Currently, sense cannot be made of anything. Minutes seem like days and vice versa. My mind is no longer contained within my head and my head, no longer attached to my body. Words on the pages of books and computer screens jump over one another and do not seem like words at all but rather tiny, anxious things resentful of the fact that they merely stand for actions and things and places but are not those things, themselves. Mirrors have become windows, and windows- mirrors. Noises are far too sharp, each one reverberating through my skull a million times over. They warp and they crash and then they morph into ridiculously clear images of worn pencil erasers or cracked, dehydrated lips and then back again into what was possibly the original sound, but who's to say for sure? Not me, for certain. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2005|04:47 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | grief | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the bad plus | ] |
Last night my cousin's baby died inside of her. Ever since she found out that she was pregnant (which was about four months ago) she'd been losing weight and bleeding an abnormal amount (apparantly it's normal to spot occasionally when you're pregnant but she'd been bleeding steadily for hours every day) and last night she hemorrhaged and was rushed to the hospital. The really sick thing is that the baby is still inside of her, dead. I went to see her in the hospital today with my mum and even though I don't really *like* my cousin (her name is Sarah) I feel really bad for her. I wouldn't wish something like this on anyone and I guess it made me realize that although I think she's pretty heartless and a bitch, I do love her. |
|
|
| Nude as the News |
[Jun. 24th, 2005|02:05 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Francesca Lia Block-tastic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Cat Power | ] |
GLORIOUSNESS!!! My favorite author of all time has TWO new novels coming out... TWO! They call themselves, "Necklace of Kisses" and "Psyche in a Dress." Francesca Lia Block has the power to make me feel like I've got Los Angeles in my veins and all the Dangerous Angels residing in my head. Cat Power and I will have to go for a humid, early-summer's night swing together to celebrate.
Lanky Lizards and Slinkster Coolness to all,
-Va. Gina- |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 13th, 2005|09:03 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | serene | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Miles D. | ] |
It's 9 a.m. I'm at the U Cup listening to Miles Davis' rendition of Autumn Leaves, drinking a tall Irish nut mocha, and smoking one cigarette after another while it pours down warm rain outside. The atmosphere simply could not be any better.
Tomorrow my mom is going to drag me to my Aunt Vicki's house to "celebrate her birthday." What will actually happen is my Aunts will fawn over my cousin Sarah the attention whore who is pregnant with her second child, nag Carly about breaking up with her selfish boyfriend Joe, and harass me about my weight.
The two civil infractions I acquired in Lansing ended up totaling $210 and while I'm grateful that I didn't get an MIP, I can't help feeling a little bitter about the whole ordeal. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[May. 24th, 2005|04:51 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | violent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Fiona Apple- Window | ] |
Last night I subjected the friends to what I now consider to be my absolute favorite movie of all time, May. Michael and Carol enjoyed it but I think it made Jessica and Emily queasy. Never the less, it was a most enjoyable time. I have the best of the best friends in all the world. You are all lovely.
I went to my cousin's grandmother's funeral today. It made me even more pissed off than usual that my parents had the gall to baptize me. Listening to a pretentious fuck-of-a-priest pontificate for well over an hour filled me with the most overwhelming urge to set fire to the bible that rested on my mum's lap with my lighter and chuck it at him. How beautiful would it have been to watch his over-starched gown go up in lovely orange flames. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 22nd, 2005|10:27 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | chilly | ] |
| [ | music |
| | johnny cash | ] |
Jessica and company,
I won't be able to make the shroom fest Saturday. I forgot that my parents were planning on going up North to our cottage today and I love it up there. So... I guess I'll just wait until next time. HOWEVER, I would love to hear how it goes so when I come back on Sunday I expect a detailed trip report. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 26th, 2005|07:43 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | disgusted | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Penguin Cafe Orchestra | ] |
Last night, as I was leaving Erin's house and walking to my car, I noticed that some asinine bastard has pinned a dead squirrel to my windshield with my left wiper.
Why the fuck would someone do that?
What is wrong with the general public?
What the fuck?
Once I got home, however, my spirits were lightened a bit by Sydne as she played for me the worst song I've ever heard. It's called Peach, Plum, Pear, by Joanna Newsom, and you should all download it so you can laugh painfully, as I did, at its absolute horridness. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 16th, 2005|12:54 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | agitated | ] |
| [ | music |
| | cat power | ] |
You Belong in 1969 |
1969
If you scored...
1950 - 1959: You're fun loving, romantic, and more than a little innocent. See you at the drive in!
1960 - 1969: You are a free spirit with a huge heart. Love, peace, and happiness rule - oh, and drugs too.
1970 - 1979: Bold and brash, you take life by the horns. Whether you're partying or protesting, you give it your all!
1980 - 1989: Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day.
1990 - 1999: With you anything goes! You're grunge one day, ghetto fabulous the next. It's all good!
|
as if there was any doubt.
i just went for a most pleasurable walk around the down-town area and stopped into the blew hippo or whatever it's called now. personally, i miss blue in the face. this new place just doesn't cut it for me. but it does have some interesting legal smokes that i'd like to try sometime. i really should be reading northanger abbey for my women writer's class and studying for my civil rights movement test at the moment but i just can't make myself. besides, i've the entirety of the day to accomplish those tasks so i might as well procrastinate as long as possible. a.l.a.p. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 10th, 2005|08:45 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | exhausitpated | ] |
| [ | music |
| | fraggle oke | ] |
the pro ana communities on lj are a smidge disturbing but i can't stop looking through them. yesterday some idjit girl had written a bad, bad poem on one of the communities and she had written "emancipated" instead of "emaciated."
now, for everyone's enjoyment, the magnificent, the genius... fraggle oke song!
nevermind, i can't find the lyrics for it. you'll just have to come over to my apt. so i can show you the "dance your cares away" dvd. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 28th, 2005|01:47 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | despair | ] |
| [ | music |
| | portishead | ] |
if ever i was forced at gunpoint to get plastic surgery i would get my ears molded into points so i could look like a faery creation of the wonderful brian froud. then i would purchase black contacts, a gnarled walking stick and many ragged-looking, earth-toned cloaks, drape them over me, and set out for scotland. i would find a large, mossy tree to inhabit and all the squirrells I would befriend. together we would spy on passers-by and eat acorns and maybe we would not come down. and maybe I would not do these things. maybe i would continue to go about my daily grind until it rendered me blind to my own unhappiness. maybe I already have and, maybe, so has everyone else. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 12th, 2005|10:16 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | bruised | ] |
| [ | music |
| | thunder storming | ] |
thunder and lightning in the wintertime is most definitely my drug of choice. freezing rain and ice storms, however, are most definitely not. i managed to slip and fall on my hip bone this morning mere moments before work so that all the wonderful customers could see the beautiful wet splotches adorning my previously clean britches.
kate fruchee is coming to town tomorrow and sydne is very excited. i wish i would have worked with kate longer (she left for californ-eye-ay just a few months after i started working at the BM) as she was always entertaining.
i have things to read for class; the kinds of things that i should not delay reading because they are things of length so i will delay no more. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 10th, 2005|07:10 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | coughish | ] |
| [ | music |
| | dizzy gilespi | ] |
I'd like to thank ms. robannon for putting me in the livejournal mood for the first time in months, you are cooler than a liger.
all of my classes occur on tuesday and thursday and call themselves...
the civil rights movement
women writers
the psychology of women
current native american indian issues
i have a rather awful gut-feeling that i'm in over my head. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Nov. 20th, 2004|11:07 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | impatient | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Zero 7 | ] |
Elise. I really miss you. I cannot wait until you come back home for Christmas. For your birthday I got you something I know you'll love and I plan on making something fantastic for you for Christmas.
On Monday I'm signing up for Spring Term classes. I think I'm going to take intro. to creative writing, women writers, rock and roll era, and possibly native american lit. I'm especially excited about intro. to creative writing.
Charles de Lint is a wonderful author. I'm reading Yarrow: An Autumn Tale by him at the moment and loving it. To anyone who loves fantasy, you should read this novel and Onion Girl (also by Charles de Lint,) and Sabriel, Lireal, and Abhorsen by Garth Nix.
Sarah and I are going to do a Zine! It will be ours, exclusively. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
shangrala's journal