you pms like a bitch, i would know...CALIFORNIA

Let's talk about gay marriage, okay?

Come on California, really? I thought you were the land of eucolyptus scented air, free love, trolleys and revolution. I guess I thought wrong.

Of course I am for gay marriage. Of course I am. I believe this is a civil rights issue, a moral issue, and a huge sign of how ignorant the public is. I believe the reason Prop8 passed is because people don't understand exactly what gay marriage entails and what it does not.

What it does entail:
1. the ability to own joint property as a couple. owning a home together, owning a golf cart together, owning a dog together- whatever. that doesn't sound that harmful, does it?
2. certain rights in case of emergency/hospitalization. this is the big one in my opinon. I've been reading a lot about this issue and there are a lot of horror stories...If you are not someones family or SPOUSE (LEGALLY) you cannot stay with them in the hospital. I read about a man who wanted to stay with his partner of twenty five years in the hospital overnight after a near fatal heart attack. Not only could he not stay, or make any important choices over his partner's well being while in the hospital because of non-spouse status, but his partner's family, who were adimently anti-gay, were able to ban him from visiting all together. horrible stuff. legalizing the marriage would also allow for sick leave if ones spouse was ill.
3. bereavment leave. choice as to where one's partner would be burried upon death.
4. filing for joint bankruptcy!
5. insurance breaks!
6. other groundshaking moral atrocites, such as tax breaks and prison visits.
7. a huge step forward for this nation.

What gay marriage does not entail:
1. the apocolypse.


And yes, I could not be more thrilled about President Elect Obama (doesn't it feel good to say that outloud?) but I can't help but still feel outraged at the enormous injustice that is happening in regards to our homosexual sisters and brothers.

ALSO!
I've been having the weirdest fucking dreams. I dreampt I bit of a huge chunk of an exboyfriend's neck and then he was actually Dorian Gray.

Muzack:
Clam, Cockle, Cowrie- Joanna Newsom
Here's the Thing- Girl Talk
Excuse Me Mr.-No Doubt (old school. like seventh grade old school.)

in my head, there's a city at night

order, order

agenda:

a. wolf parade. excellent band! certainly not a silly internet buzz band, certainly not. their new record "at mount zoomer" is just as brimming with raw emotion (open to your own interpretation) and catchy keyboard melodies as "apologies to the queen mary". spencer krug is quite a guy. highly recommended, five stars out of fives. high fives all around, wolf parade.

b. there are a lot of things stressing me out. a lot. for those of you that don't know (and read this, which is basically no one, so what am i doing), my mom tried to kill herself last weekend. she only stayed in the hospital for three days. this is because neither her or my dad's health care would cover an extended stay in the psych ward. they work every single day and pay copious amounts of cash to make sure that in case of a tragedy or emergency (such as this one) they will be taken care of. well, no. that's not actually the case. they pay rising premiums to not get covered. because of this, because the middle class is getting royally fucked in the anus as far as health care is concerned, my mom is here. she's asleep in the room next to me, deathly ill (yes, it's a disease) and extremely dangerous to herself. she's dying in there, and it's painful to watch. this brings me to point

c. the election is number two in the top five things that are stressing me out right now list. for those of you that have chosen to look at the state of things objectively, for those of you who have chosen to play devils advocate because obama endorsement is a popular position amongst your peers, for those of you that are voting for mccain because you are a republican...you do not understand how close to home everything is hitting. the outcome of this election WILL directly effect you. the economy is...well, as the daily show so aptly put it, a "clusterfuck to the poor house". health care is obviously fucked. billions of dollars a month are being spent on an unjustified war. my right to choice in regards to my body is dangerously close to being stripped away (i have had two pregnancy scares this summer). oh, and according to America's favorite maverick, oral contraceptives for females should not be covered by health care but viagra should. in this case, the popular belief is the right one. obama is obviously the right candidate for the job...and yet, our country seems to be in love with a maverick and his adorable (FRIGHTENING) hockey mom ho. there is a chance these two will be the most powerful two people in the free world. he refers to you as his friend when he does not know you and her favorite movies include "hoosiers" and "rudy". i know it's popular to say that you're going to move if mccain gets elected...but i honestly don't know if i could stay here if that happened.

d. i have realized i hate beer. two sips of keystone light and i felt like i was going to vomit. really, i don't want to party at all. i just want to go to bed. my ideal man does not like beer pong, theme parties that only involve half naked girls and nights centered only around the idea of getting laid. my ideal man just likes to go to bed, just like i do. i want a man i can fall asleep with at 10:56 on a saturday night.

e. number three on the stress list is work. yeah. i pretty much hate my job. but i would be a fool to quit it. BECAUSE WE ARE IN A CLUSTERFUCK TO THE POOR HOUSE.

f. dr.wax records in evanston is shutting down. 50% off sale. yeah, that rules for me. but i feel it's the beginning of the death of the local record and book store. scary shit. considering i have also realized my dream job is just to work in a record store and do nude modeling for art classes on the side.

g. my new religion is science. i believe in science and i believe in the destructive power of man.

h. review of fleet foxes concert coming soon.

i. am going through this thing totally alone. it's hard and i can't say that i'm soldiering through it because i'm actually failing miserably at it.

j. too many cigarettes! but oh man, do them camel number nines take the edge off.


This place here is no friend of mine
What is passed, we'll just leave it behind
And what you know could only mean one thing
And what you know could only mean one thing
Rooted to the place that you spring from

I don't know if it was the result of another long day selling things to the women of the north shore, or my lack of sleep, or my generally negative disposition as of late, but when I went to the punk show Friday night, I was brought back. It felt better then it ever had to slam into other people with every fiber of my body. Getting pushed and punched and kicked in the head by crowd surfers felt better than sex and I was really enjoying being covered in more of other people's sweat than my own.

Punk Rock has been something that I've never really understood. Is it a type of music? Well, yes, if you're the Ramones or Bad Brains or the Sex Pistols or something, but right now a lot of bands, and a lot of fans of those bands, are offended if you label the music as "punk". So I guess right now, it's not actually a type of music. If it's not a musical genre, then it can't really be a lifestyle, or anything more than some kind of put on image. Fake. Ingenuine. An army of zombies for those who don't want to join the other army of zombies, right? There's still a uniform. Liberity spikes and DIY clothes instead of Coache wristlets and polos with the collar up.

But I've been horrible lately. More angry and alienated and sad and confused than I've ever been, more reliant on music than ever...I have less faith in the concept of parties and beer games and hook ups and slutty clothes as healers than I did two months ago. I don't fit in with that culture as well as I thought I did. And I've realized I don't want to. Whatever it takes to be normal right now, I don't have, and don't see the point in trying to obtain. My peers are very into faux-happiness. This idea of projecting yourself as happy and together in hopes that maybe it will eventually be true is complete bullshit. I'm sick of backwards baseball caps and hipsters and beer and making out and pretending and working and and and and and
No. I do not want to play beer pong.
No. I cannot help you find anything that will hide your fat-ass. We have nothing in the store that is made out of magical wizard cloth. Sorry.
No. I do not think your flirty texts are witty or charming. I will not be having sex with you anytime soon.
NO I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY MATH CLASS.
NO NO NO I DO NOT THINK IT'S OKAY THAT YOU DO THOSE DRUGS
NO things are NOT going to be okay after this election.
NO I DO NOT THINK BARACK HAS A STRONG CHANCE ANYMORE
NO NO NO NO NO NO

and so I started moshing and screaming and listening to every word Jack Terricloth said like it was gospel. and I pushed and was pushed and danced and finally kind of understood punk rock, a little.
It's a zen, it's a philosophy. It's so much justified anger that you don't even know what to do with yourself. It's not fitting in with whatever is larger than you- and not wanting to- ever- and choosing not to let that control you. It's the idea that maybe chaos is the most natural form of things.
Maybe I wasn't being totally dumb when I went to all those little punk shows and wore a lot of bracelets and spikes my sophmore year. Maybe I was kind of on to something. Maybe I could break everything in my life and let go of everyone and it would be fine. Maybe I'm not constrained. Maybe all honest art is kind of punk. Maybe there's a little bit of the punk spirit still in me.

Or maybe a real '77 would just punch me in the face if they heard me saying any of this. Maybe I don't get it.

But whatever. World/Inferno ruled Friday night, is what I'm trying to say.
The devil entered the Subterranean for sure.

a box full of suggestions for your possible heart

so i think i need to dedicate this to the sisterhood (cat, veronica, hailey)

this has already done, but i want to make my own list.

this is you and your girls in the summer in evanston, il:

camel number nines, arizona ice tea and red bull as chasers for stolen liquor, the notorious liquor bandit of evanston, il, cruising down golf fast as hell/drunk as hell/smoking a bowl and blasting MGMT, d-boy and his nails, DIP DIP DIP, spraying my dog in the nose with binaca, "don't get a big dick", parties at finders house, hooking up for novelty's sake, talking about it the next day, looking really hot (seriously), being the other woman, "my father is teaching a lesson!", first pregnancy tests, the craziest house parties i have ever been to at the big yellow house on asbury, radiohead, gravity bongs, unbeatable flip cup teams fueled by anger and a need for revenge towards the men who wronged us (that night over winter break at least), being smarter than other girls (you will not get SHIT out of us), knowing that we do not have magical vaginas and that NO ONE does, gorgeous green tree lined streets in north evanston, the lake, the rocks, fires on the northwestern campus, finding out broken social scene and common are playing a free show on the northwestern campus last minute, getting totally wasted before that concert, being totally covered in mud at that concert, walking in horizontal lines, entering a room with these bitches, paper planes as an anthem, the sex and the city movie at midnight, I CURSE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN (what a perfect time to hear that phrase!), so much love


i remember the day i was dumped over the telephone at the beginning of the summer. i didn't get dressed. my three sisters came right over and found me lying in bed like a dead person. we plotted revenge, i cried, the phrase "he's a tiny dick fat WEIRDO" was uttered and then...cat told me to get dressed and get out of bed. if no one told me that i wouldn't have done it.
thank you for being there to tell me to keep moving.
and for writing hilarious things in his honesty box.
and for being the best people in the world.

smoke weed; kill bitches.

time, time tickin' on me

i mostly look forward to post-sex, to be honest. but all i can think about lately is that thing that harry says in when harry met sally about how all men think about after sex is how long they have to lay there and cuddle before they can get up and leave.
there is no worse feeling than your partner leaving after you fuck. i guess that can be categorized as abandonment. all forms of abandonment are the absolute lowest of low pits.


but also, i hate playgrounds. i want to see some old school dangerous fun playground equipment, please. made out of hot metal, that you can burn yourself on, and fall off of, and get really dizzy on, that are the cause of sprained ankles. what kid wants to play on plastic with no sharp edges? no wonder they all turn to drugs and sex and hanging out by train tracks...PLAYGROUNDS SUCK NOW.

just for my own memory i need to record the happenings of my subconscious, aka one of the most intense/cinematic dreams ever. i'm already losing the details but here's what i can recall:

1. it all lead up to the dark knight premiere at midnight. i'm at the mall and eddie veder is near corner bakery, as is some vagabond seeming young man having conversations with everyone
2. my most recent ex-boyfriend was in town and i desperately needed to tell him how many people i've slept with/how hurt i am...but he beats me to the punch by telling me how he's fucked a girl. i then proceed to insult how fast he is at coming during the act with "how long did i take yo this time? ten or twenty seconds?" i continue to try and talk to him but there is some asian man who keeps preventing this from happening, slash little kids playing laser tag that keep stinging me (what? i know)i am still heart broken and have this incredible urge to talk to him but end up running away as fast as i can.
3. i see a girl i went to high school with, belinda. she's riding this boy's (the one i'm fucking now) vespa. i meet her at what seems to be mccormic and howard and she gives it to me. my closest three guy friends (max, alec, andy) role up on little kid plastic bikes. we ride away. for some reason they're going faster than me even though it feels like i'm going full speed. like scary full speed. and i'm all of a sudden riding on green bay road past a wallgreens, and there's all these old people wheel chair shopping carts in the middle of the street. i jump them on the scooter and then black out.
4. when i wake up i'm in jail. this girl who was my best friend at the beginning of the summer but isn't now is there, along with several of her minions. max,etc are there too. we're all in one cell and they won't tell us why we're being held. i try to figure it out and try to escape to go talk to my ex/see the dark knight but nothing works. i get in a fight with the girl because she has white shit all over her face and i tell her i don't find that attractive at all. she says something mean about the ex being in town, about him looking at other women and i slap her.
5. i end up escaping and running towards the movie theatre but it's suddenly day time again. the day has started over- like the movie groundhogs day, kind of, but different. midnight is never going to come. for some reason (in the dream) some larger power is trying stop me from seeing the movie. the vagabond is there, and he's going insane because time won't move forward for him either. he tries to bury a twenty dollar bill. we go to his house and his parents are having a dinner party. he is literally tearing down his entire house. he wants to find the money he buried.

the strange this is i kept vaguely waking up but then forcing myself back into the dream.

go listen to lcd soundsystem if you're not already.
and get exile in guyville.

unpure unchaste