House: Finally settled in, now it's all about maintaining. I think I need a maid.
Man: Stress-free love nest
Work: Too much, but at least I get PAID.
The Future: Summer, birthday, and trips (hopefully)
Animal: She's kind of a bitch, but slowly getting braver
Family: Waiting for the other shoe to drop, constantly.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Monday, April 2, 2007
Just When I Thought I was Out of Things to Say...
I remembered!
1. zwinky's creep me out
2. i heard a great line on a reality show i never much cared for (run's house) rev. run says to his tofu eating, yoga practicing brother, russel simmons, "i'm carnivorous son." ha! amazing!
3. i saw dave chappelle! smokin a cig, leaning out the window of his escalade, he said, "what's up white girl" i wish i was quick enough to say something like "it's a celebration bitches!" but i guess my "holy shit!" will live on forever in his brain.
4. Sylvia Plath.
I went through a serious phase a couple months ago where would read lasy lazarus outloud to myself many times a night. No, I'm not in seventh grade, but my love for her will live on past my angsty years (sometimes i feel i will never out grow them). so here is lady lazarus... like with allen ginsberg read it aloud, much more satisfying. (though she is not a gemini...scorpio...what a surprise...)
Lady Lazarus
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
1. zwinky's creep me out
2. i heard a great line on a reality show i never much cared for (run's house) rev. run says to his tofu eating, yoga practicing brother, russel simmons, "i'm carnivorous son." ha! amazing!
3. i saw dave chappelle! smokin a cig, leaning out the window of his escalade, he said, "what's up white girl" i wish i was quick enough to say something like "it's a celebration bitches!" but i guess my "holy shit!" will live on forever in his brain.
4. Sylvia Plath.
I went through a serious phase a couple months ago where would read lasy lazarus outloud to myself many times a night. No, I'm not in seventh grade, but my love for her will live on past my angsty years (sometimes i feel i will never out grow them). so here is lady lazarus... like with allen ginsberg read it aloud, much more satisfying. (though she is not a gemini...scorpio...what a surprise...)
Lady Lazarus
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
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