hahahahah i fucking love those kittens. im gonna keep them forever!

hello, i would like to issue a big fat fuck you to whoever left those kittens on my doorstep. not cuz i dont love them but fuck you every night i dream about kittens and everytime i come home i am scared someone will have left MORE kittens in my doorway and all night long periodically kittens wake me up with their problems. so fuck you anonymous kitten donor. thanks for teaching me about love and sacrifice and being a saint with my kindness you asshole. you already owe me over a hundred dollars. eat a bag of dicks kitten abandoner. i think i know who you are now, cuz i saw a crazy white lady in a shawl poking around my house the other day, and she was not homeless so she should have dealt with these kittens herself. but in the meantime, fuck you, you fucking tosser leaving wet kittens in bags for women who make no money to deal with. when i find out who did this im gonna rub their nose in the kitten shit that is smeared all over my floor.

got rid of the subject of that last post. started a new weaving blog. gone insane on weaving. like you cant imagine if youre not a weaver. you just dont know. something is opening up in my head with it. a way to see patterns, a way to feel the patterns. glorious. in other news im stressed and something is lurking in my body. work is making me crazy but i dont know why. last week i was on cloud 9 lovin my job. it's always somethin. why is it always something? that phrase sucks my left one. i need to start meditating again because then i can handle the "changes of my life" like stevie said. think ill rock some fleetwood mac, weave a lil bit before bed. hasta la vista, baybay.

i have been having a terrible yeast infection for a while here and it is making me insane. my boyfriend is in jail and im proud of him. oakland had the most significant fuck yall demonstration nationally for march forth. pubic education is impotant! they shut down the freeway. i had to cave in and buy monistat after ten days of trying garlic, acidophillus capsules and calendula oil. the whole thing has exhausted me. i havent even been up twelve hours today but im going to bed. i hope i dont have to bail him out in the middle of the night. like my mom said, he's safer in jail than i will be riding my bike to the police station. please pray for my vagina. thank you.

forgot a lotta stuff. come a long way. gotta long way to go.

i have grown up a lot in the last year, exponentially in the last four months. i might need a master's degree.

what is it like to have a baby and insist on living a party lifestyle and know you should be taking care of it?
what is it like to be thin and tiny, to be able to be picked up at any moment and not feel like a big sack of potatoes?
what is it like to be a dancer, born in a dancer's body, and have some control over the expression of your body down to your fingers and the arch of your foot?
what is it like to go to bed at a regular hour every night and get ample sleep, to eat balanced meals everyday, to exercise regularly....for years?!?!?!
what is it like to know how machinery works? how buildings are built? what physics or chemistry or calculus are? what is it like to care about this?
what is it like to get plastic surgery?
what is it like to know what you want from the time you are young and go after it your whole life and finally get it?
what is it like to have someone propose marriage to you in all seriousness, with the one knee and a ring?
what is it like to live in a vw bus and drive up and down the coast of california?
what is it like to care about money and making it and having a high-powered job?

what the fuck is going to happen to us when it gets much, much colder for much longer periods of time and then stays like that for hundreds of years?

im pretty sure that music is the answer. im dumb enough at it, that i have no clue how far behind i am, or where there is to go. im pretty punk, you might say. i love that jenny lewis song called, "happy." i always used to sing it when i was with don.
so much weird shit just happened to me, and i have to stay focused. no going off the path. even in exhaustion, even in mania, even in mind-numbing 3 pm of the soul, even in come on just for a minute cuz you deserve it. the only thing i deserve is a big pie in the face if i act like getting to be unconcious is the same thing as going on vacation. as if! the only similarity is when you come back you get it that shit doesnt stop while youre gone. and forays into unconsciousness dont relax a lady necessarily. (not that vacations cant be rife with unconsciousness, samely.) moving on. so much weird shit happening. i just gotta do what i gotta do, and i cant have any self-hate while i do it. and i have to try to treat all my fellow humans with compassion. ALL OF THEM.
s.b. brought me an emma goldman book and it blew my mind. im so grateful. what a feminist!
s.b. is the best boyfriend ive had. you heard it here first. and i know, youve heard it with every one of them the same, but it's not the same, it's real. He's for real.
but lord knows we all have our problems. life is so hard, why judge a fellow man. i have to become more compassionate all the time. im so grateful to work with children and have them teach me.
time 4 bed.

i just saw this old email from l. when our house got broken into in new orleans. the subject is "our house is not safe." i remembered reading it for the first time and being like duh. and then panicking it was going to be about ghosts. what is it like to be a man who hasnt considered that his house might not be safe until it is burglarized? i, and most women i know, have never really felt safe EVER cuz our bodies are being threatened constantly with invasion. being the "weaker sex" is a crock of shit. im in the middle of a personal revolution. i accidentally took 10 grave vows at the zen center. now i have to be more aware of my dharma.
i just made tuna casserole though. it was so good. potato chip topping. i feel like betty crocker.
staying conscious is always harder than i think its gonna be, and slipping out is always easier! but it's so sweet when it's on! depression is at the corner of my perception. i see it there, but it hasnt snuck over my whole view like a cataract.
i had this awesome idea to make a video tape of all the quicki mart men who have ever sold me eating disorder crack saying what it is they sold me. dude up the street would be like
"chocolate chip ice cream sandwich
chocolate chip ice cream sandwich
hostess cup cakes
lil debbie
airheads
can of peas"