I'm on a coffee high, and I have to make the best of it quickly so that I can use it efficiently and knock out a lot of art projects. I woke up this morning before my 8:08 am alarm, and not in a panic, and not because I had horrible dreams, but because I was rested. I underestimated how much a decent night's sleep can affect your world outlook: while yesterday sucked, today I feel I can conquer the world!

No more boo-hoo blogging, if you could even call it that.

Some good things, just to think about:
- Mommies
- Being able to cry (literally and/or metaphorically) to your momma on the phone. And the fact that my mom gave me money for a haircut. I am very nearly twenty one. The day I pay for my own haircut will be my real entry to adult life, as opposed to losing my virginity or going to college or my first legal drink or any of that stuff. Although, I did have a "welcome to adulthood, Tay," moment when I got my first ever alarm clock over the winter break. To be fair, it was a gift. (Also, it is adorable.)

- Being kind. Saying hi. Chatting people up. Life is so much nicer. Let it all go! (Corny joke an architecture student might make: "I'm tabula rastering!" Maybe that is only funny to me.)
- Playing with babies. I am baby sitting for one of my teachers, and it's a real joy to not think about anything else and play with a kid for 3 hours in the morning.
- Um, this.
- Maybe my favorite joke:
"Do you like tapes or CDs?"
"Uh... CDs."
"SEE 'DESE NUTS?" (point to crotch)
- Being able to listen to music and find great wisdom in all the simple things being said again. "Oh, this is life. This is life, and everything's alright." Also: "Go, go, go, go, go. You restless soul, you're gonna find it."

I need to start making xeroxes of my letters before I send them out. It is an effective way to journal, and when people make comments to me about what I've written them, I can only remember little bits, if anything. A friend I correspond with says that's part of a letter, that you give it away and it's not yours anymore. But I disagree.

Another good friend quote: "Don't wait, create!" Particularly poignant in our entertainment obsessed culture of iPods, portable movie players, yada yada yada, you've heard it all before, probably. Unless you were plugged in and not paying attention.

John channelled Tupac and told me "Baby dont cry, try to keep ya head up. When things get hard never let up."

The best I can do is try to make it the best Wednesday I can. I am excited about the challenge.




I'm actually very happy.

Also, nothing is more attractive than men that love women.
"So will the real men get up?
I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up"

If I were Tracy's momma, I would say, "ooh, that really makes my blood boil," in that way she does when she narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw, shaking her head a little.

But I'm not, so instead I mull it over, shrug, keep going. My birthday is March 4th - "march forth". I am happy to be born on that day.


What Would Smog Say? (WWSS?)*
"Ha, ha, ha.
Life's a joke."




*This will perhaps becoming a reoccurring segment.

Nothing to say, today. Even my dreams are stressful.

I can't get any rest, even when I'm getting rest.

"Why did we never think of this before??" Audrey asked me as we were checking out at Rite Aid with our dinner ingredients.
"I know. I know! It's guaranteed to be delicious."

Macaroni and cheese. Flaming Hot Cheetos. Mix 'em together. Drink a 40 oz as an accompaniment to the meal.





I wish I had a picture to include. It would be the type of picture you show your kids when you are older and telling them the standard stories of what college was like. And your kids will look at the picture and think about how strange you look, and how unbelievable it is that you were once kind of cute and also thin.

I always end up making hasty promises to people because I think (at the moment) it's necessary to get whatever I want in return. Last night, I was foolishly committed to posing nude with two other girls, all entwined and shit. For two hours.

There is probably a german word for the very specific type of dread and obligation that I feel.

If I could just chill out and not run my mouth, I would never be in these situations. If I could teach myself anything - and actually learn it and apply it - it would be to never say anything without thinking it over very carefully first. I should say half the amount of things I actually say.

I do my best sleeping on my friends' couch.

I had very vivid dreams about pooping, so I was thrilled to wake up and see that that did not take place in the night.

I had such high hopes for today, but everything started falling apart midday. I carry all my tension in a tangerine sized knot on the left side of my back.

So, I am going to go to studio, drink some wine, eat some cheese, sit outside and have a goddamn cigarette and not think twice about it. That is my version of the 'reset' button on a VCR.

Then I am going to be really productive.

---

When you listen to 'Justified' in order, and listen to all the songs besides just the singles, man. It is obvious the non-singles songs will not stand the test of time.

Last night I had dinner over at my friends' house - they are all football playing, weightlifting, huge boys that are always tearing their ACLS. I paused before I left my room, wondering if I should quickly shave my armpits - I was wearing a cut off t-shirt, and it just didn't seem like the type of thing that would jive with them. I wanted to be invited back and become a someone they consider a good friend. So I did it.

Now I feel stupid. I haven't felt so dumb about something I've done since the night I lost my shoe and threw up on Lydia's couch (sorry, girl). But it stings more because I haven't done something in a blatant attempt to make people like me more in, like.... FOREVER.

I feel like a little naked girl, as opposed to feeling womanly, which I felt before.

It's not the end of the world, but my naked underarms are like my bare-skinned scarlet letter.

I don't know how to explain this feeling - it's kind of regretful, it's kind of proud. Unsure, I guess. I kept waking up all throughout last night confused, coughing, feeling my sheets and trying to figure out why they were damp: I was having cold sweats! That has never happened before.

"I don't really know what I'm doing here. I didn't want to leave, John. I don't want to be here."
"You should have just told us you were in a car accident and stayed another week."
"I... I should have. Why didn't I think to do that." And I was instantly filled with regret.

Why do I always forget that I can tell everyone else, and school, and work, and whatever, a big 'fuck you.' Obviously they are not very important.

"Welcome to your Twenties," Lis said.

She also said, "I can't wait to laugh over the next love tragedy."



...Yup.



What would Smog have to say about this situation? I think he would say,
"I lay on the bed in the dark,
laughing at things I think of.
Getting off on the pornography of my past."

I spent three whole days constantly being with my friend, and now that I'm back at school for the second day, I am so lonely. I haven't even seen or talked to another person yet. I miss my friend. I'm lonely for my other ones.

During my late night debaucheries in Toronto, I would frantically send myself text messages so I wouldn't forget all the funny things that were said. They're never quite as funny in the morning light, but, whatever.

Talking about politics with some Canadians:

Julian: Who's that black guy that's running....?
Me: Barack Obama.
Haga: He's more than a just a BLACK MAN, okay?? HE HAS A WHITE MOTHER.

People in Toronto are so nice and unassuming that I would always find myself expecting them to comp whatever I was buying/drinking. The first morning in Toronto, after we got kicked out of our hotel, Callum and I ate at a little diner. When the waitress brought us the bill I was a slightly offended.

Watching Callum in his element is like watching a well-tuned machine. He knows what he wants, and he always gets it, because he asks. It's so simple. Every person on the street is a friend he hasn't gotten to talk to yet. And he invites everyone to share everything he has.

Leaving the country today at an ungodly hour, I got to the airport after a taxi ride where I understood almost nothing the driver was saying to me. In security, I got picked to be 'randomly' searched for drugs and chemical residues. I put randomly in quotes because I looked like shit: up until two hours ago, I was drinking with friends, I couldn't fall asleep, my hair was matted in the back because I hadn't washed or brushed it in a long time, I was wearing the same clothes I had been the whole trip. Basically: like the type of person who might be dumb enough to try to traffic drugs through an airport.

My heart was pounding the whole time; to make things increasingly unsettling, the woman doing the search on me had the exact accent and demeanor as Celine Dion. "Okay, lovely, lovely, very beautiful. Now ve are jus going to open up the bag, yes, yes, beautiful honey, thank you honey. Now can you spread your arms for me?"




Up to no good, generally.


Thank you to: Cal, Elizabeth!!, Rhonda, Neil, Laura, Wayne, Julian, Hagerawit, Dr. McGillicuddy's.

I saw myself in the bathroom mirror, and i'm wasting away. i haven't washed my hair in a week. just a couple of punks, running around the city

So far toronto is awesome. so is phone blogging!

One thing I am proud of is that I've always managed to maintain a pretty active traveling schedule, regardless of wherever I am working or if I am in school. If you're a little flexible and kind, it's possible to escape the snow for two days of romping through a warmer city. Or a colder one. What have you.

Tonight I will be in Toronto with my dear friend Callum:



I could write a book, all the stories I have about him. He lives in a tee-pee, to give you a general idea.




You should get him to tell you about the time he ate some placenta.

I've been only eating fruits, vegetables, nuts, and occasionally yogurt for the past few days, and I plan to do it for another week and a half or so. After that I'm doing the Master Cleanse - yes, the one where you only drink that juice for two weeks.

This, like having a kid, maybe, is one of those things that you can only really talk about with people who have done it. Otherwise you sound crazy.

I'm happy to be doing this, but... it gets boring.





That's almost a month with no "real" food.

1. Nothing like a good pair of coke legs to make me appreciate my own slightly fleshy (aka 'healthy') body.

She turned around to ask me a question and I could see her skull underneath her skin.

2. I think this must be a uniquely 'Generation Y'/hipster dilemma: you're making out with some chick/dude with awesome hair, you're back at their place, it's going great, and then you each have to pause to awkwardly, strenuously remove your skinny jeans. I have been there. There is no easy way to do it. Shimmy-shaking, one-legged hopping, your exposed upper half is doing things you would rather not have someone else see it do. You get 'em at least to the ankles and then the other person has to whip them around and pull them off. It is an ungraceful team effort. But then, my favorite parts of love and sex and anything intimate are those moments; you can't help but laugh at how absurd it is: in this case, two bodies anxiously trying to get naked with each other.

I opened my phone today and the screen was almost unreadable: covered in grime, hair, crusty stuff. I couldn't figure out how this could have happened, but then it hit me:

It's salt deposits.





....from tears


...'cause I was crying


...get it?

I walked by an American Apparel today and through the window I saw my friend behind the register. I said hi and we talked for a bit and on the way out I grabbed one of their magazines.

I am positive American Apparel is on a mission to to make the areola an acceptable body part to show in public.



Related: Where da taint at?

Being home:

I just got this crazy idea where I'm starting my own one-post-a-day-challenge for the entire year of 2008. Where will the world of self-important blogging take me in the '08? I guess I will have to wait and see.

I'm starting late, so here are 12 posts for the first twelve days of the year.

1. I think this text, received at 12:34 am, sums it up: "Happxw newyears"

2. This is hard. You know what? I'm NOT going to rewrite for the past week and a half. S my d.