note to self: try to blog more than once a month

wee kitteh photos! not my kitteh, but very photogenic.

must... start... writing... again...

i was at rest for a moment. taking the time to love myself up in sandalwood oil bathwash and ativan the edges had all been rounded off. one plump circle , sir, and how.

today was a troubling mess.. falling off the wagon trying to cut back on smoking hadn't gone to plan. over deficit by one cigarette when i had promised myself 3. it wasn't based on any health benefits, simply i was loathe to fork out the money for another pack for at least a couple more days.

my secondary strike against good intentions flared up on the bus ride home from work. the normal late bus was stacked to the tits with chattering voices. eerily they all had identical knapsacks... stranger still was the high incident ratio of attractively dangerous jailbait tidbits.

i sifted through legs half out in the aisle and wedged between two blue bags poking at cell phones. hoisting up my own conspicuously mis-coloured bag i hugged it close and said a silent prayer. "they can't be terribly legal... think about something unsexy like smashing your cock with a hammer..." oh that's horrible. good. that'll do. now to adjust the ipod...

Skinny fingers pawed at my antique of an ipod. i turned to my bench mate who was wound up and pointing at the display screen. warm fingers cranked out a headphone and said a hearty hey hey and "i love-ah to my boy!"

horrified i thought about licking his fingers. wait. no. jail. jail. and really fucking creepy... let's not forget that shall we?

"oh.. heh, yeah they're great." i swallowed and ground my bag closer to my abdomen. it was very wrong but wholly lecherous to argue with myself for another 10 minutes until i pulled the stop cord and hopped off early.

i think i'm too anxious these days to even appreciate nibbling on a twinky, even if it's only to talk about music.

before my shower i looked up the college written on everyones matching knapsacks. some of them would have been over 18... so i've got that at least.

fourfour mix

"you're awfully quiet tonight..."
Madeline signed the word, "sorry"
"no no, don't be sorry... just, ya know?" I sloppily signed "dad worries"
she swiveled her butt on the couch to prop up her legs on my lap and bob her shoes up and down in unison.

supposedly this was my fault for giving her a non-sexual foot massage a month ago. i was bored with my desk job and had started taking esthetician courses after work. shaving down dead skin and succinctly ripping out hang nails had been my own personal fetish so why not lavish it on other people? it also meant i had a reason to stock packs of razor blades in the house without criticism. there was no actual desire to file down rich sluts feet all day, i just liked working on friends feets.
ANYWAY.
I had spent the better part of 3 hours trying to get Madeline to take her shoes off before my final exam for my course to try and get some practice in to no avail. Her breathy voice whispered "no!" It sounded more like "nooah!"
"don't be a bitch, take your shoes off! i'm not going to suck your fucking toes!"
fingers pinching down on thumbs to make two little holes... thrust of the hands out to my face. No.
i jiggled around in my pocket to pull out my cigarette tin. a blunt materialized from within. delicious strawberry and champagne flavoured from the corner store. [side note: my "usual" was Ad Busters, a pack of menthol cigarettes that the owner would choose at random and a blunt wrap. the magazine was to read, the cigarettes were our little ritual where i said "suprise me]" and he did... and the blunt wrap, well, they always came in handy.]
little puff of air skimmed into her mouth as she inhaled the sickly sweet scent of the wrap.
"see this? You can have it if you let me work on your feet."
her eyes honed in on the blunt.
pulling it up to my face so she'd have to watch my lips i wiggled it around a bit. "It's not a sexual thing! it's calming... If i get a boner you can kick my ass."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine!" Motivation comes in all forms.

But I set myself up for a dangerous precedence. she knew i would sit with feet on my lap and work them over the minute they were thrust into my face. worse still she knew i'd look after them no matter what shape they were in.
clippers in hand i trimmed up the nails before the rhythm of the file started up. Madeline was contemplating the plumes of smoke lolling out of her lips and mindlessly hummed. it's hard to read lips that are bent over to study the arc of tiny nails so we skipped the chitty chatty. mindless indulgence to take her mind off things for a minute or so....

I'm finally relaxing... One more day then I'm back at it. My neck bends to the right, wilting under the muscles that clamp down and make it tight. I'm a mistress who's sick of justifying the scenario. I'm the secretary who's tired of talking and no one knowing who I am. If I have another person dismiss my hardwork with some twiddling fingers going, "whatever you do" I'll burn the office down. To the ground.
I'm developing that thing that I knew I would... Never leaving the house until provoked, or worse still the internal hype squad talking for hours to get me to leave. I shut the door and breathe a sigh of understanding.
I talk under the influence. I flutter dewy eyes to air out the outward sadness. The wrong people read this stuff and the right people go orbiting away until I forget about them.
I give the side-eye to the Starbucks staff reading this over the counter. I make sure to wipe my drippy nose with my hand before reaching out to get my coffee. Don't be nosey!

fiction

There's that point in an obsession where it all unravels.
It's easy to see when you're observing someone else going through it... Easy to mock, easy to laugh at... Just a cinch to roll your eyes at someone oblivious to the sheer idiocy of pandering after someone/something that's out of reach.
All these subjective perceptions are wonderful when you're outside the whirl of irrational thought patterns.
The lofty roost of "well *I* could have told you this would end poorly..." (Whispered breath in before a sip of wine) "Ya dummy." The impervious fortress of backhanded observations that are freely distributed to idiot friends never applies to ones own personal dim decisions. What a mouthful. [Just go back and read it slowly, try to digest it. I'm sick of dumbing down my thoughts for meager mulit-tasking brains]

I packed up some magazines to mail to my still-born obsession. He had long since moved on from our awkward conversation where I unhinged logic from the forefront and went right for impulsive behavior... The part in our relationship, no, sorry, back off wishful thinking. The part in our FRIENDSHIP that involved me running my mouth off about how much I loved him. That shameful confession where you barf up every single thesis statement on why you love someone even though they don't want your needy touch. The moment where I never want to wind up, but it's too late. Ah the horrifying realization that I can't cry over childhood abuse, sexual traumas and other sundry items that poison my body, but oh yes I can cry about my poorly-selected crush.

god i'm too bitter to deal with this right now...

Jeff Bridges

just a really nice pic of Jeff Bridges i found here:

www.flickr.com/photos/hillyblue/525267904/in/set-72157600430938268

whisper whisper

so i'm sick with a goddamn cold. this one has been especially "neat" in the sense that i thought it was a head cold and now i wonder if it was some mutant flu bug? whatever.

the main thing that's bugging me beyond being tired/light headed is my voice. anyone who knows me knows i'm incapable of shutting up. ever. so now my voice is a mix of raspy bottomed out tones and whispered little squeaks.

when i went into a health food store yesterday i walked up to the salesclerk and managed to say, "Hey I lost my voice because of a cold, can you help me find this?" and i showed her my list on my BlackBerry. She then spent the remainder of the time yelling at me. then at the grocery store i was whispering to my roommate who was talking back at a normal volume... but when i got to the cashier she started whispering at me. Gah!

how does this apply for people who have damaged vocal chords?? As in their voices aren't going to get louder/clearer... do they have to get this all day long when talking to people?? If so my fucking condolences... if I'm miffed at this for a few inconveniences i'm left shaking my head for others who have to deal with it EVERY time they open their yaps.

so i'm not in a rage over it, just more... odd that's how people react to a soft/whispered voice.

24 hours of drum and bass

i found some random-o bit torrent that was stacked with a ton of drum and bass mp3's. As for the 4 people who read this, I don't think any of you like that genre of music. regardless it's delicious i shant listen to anything rock and or roll related until the end of the weekend unless on my iPod.

just finished watching Mou gaan dou/infernal affairs, the chinese movie The Departed was based on.... I really enjoyed The Departed. i'm a sucker for cop and mobster intrigue, especially when it's mobsters that aren't always italian... [see: City of God, Gangster No. 1] so those lovable irish mobsters and the whole ensemble cast really caught me, even though it was a long fucking movie. Mou gaan dou did have some super cheese flare ups, but no more so than the perpetual flare ups of van morrison singing 'comfortably numb'/affair plot lines in The Departed. Even though I was anticipating the twists, i still felt just as rapt in the story... Anywho, loved Mou gaan dou and i could see me watching it on dvd more than it's american counter-part.

i wish there had been a marky-mark moment at the end tho. DAMN!! [teeth gritting] So good.

Anyway, new dude crush = andy lau, but that's no surprising since i always love the bad guy


ok ok... here's the good guy too. i liked Tony Leung in Hero as well... but there you go, the well of chinese movies i've been exposed to doesn't go too deep. Everyone's seen Hero so it's nothing too hipster-wipster cool.


next on my hit list is Oldboy...

Clark + Michael

http://www.clarkandmichael.com

i loved arrested development and all of the characters... i have a big boner for michael cera who played george michael in the show... it's just SO AWKWARD with him. Even if you hated Superbad -which i fucking loved, yes i'm a 16 year old boy- i loved the awkward co-dependent relationship he had with his best friend.

the link above goes to michael cera's new little mini project with his friend Clark. they are the biggest bitches in the universe, but that's why i love them!! they fluctuate between overly confident and sobbing in the bathtub and right on through to fist fights.

as a side note, if i had been born a guy i'd like to think i'd be a bear-like dude, but i'm 99.98% sure that I would have looked like Clark. sigh. well, i think he's cute, but more in that omg i want to hang out with you kind of way.

get the fudge out of my email

model you

i can't find a freaking bit torrent for their stuff. i need to hear more before i go get this ordered in....

mixed

oh hells yes there's a 7 minute long junior boys song on this! not really a coherent mix, but just what i'm blaring on a sunday afternoon.

fuck i love drum and bass

does anyone still listen to drum and bass?? fuck i love it still... especially stuff that's like this. i can do a bit darker sounding, but this is what i like to have in the background when i'm surfing.

whiskers

"help... help me... don't just... help... ehn!" i tried to make a grab for the cat as he walked over me taking the time to jam a fat foot into my stomach.
"oh you son of a bitch. leave me here will you? BE THAT WAY! Come back."
Shir turned his attention to my snapping fingers, scanning for edibles and rebuffing me when clearly nothing was there.
lousy cat...

nataliedee.com tshirts... always

that reminds me, i should get my eyebrows done

there are few occasions where i'm able to drag Anthony down to my level of weekend entertainment. it was a large equation of him doing this, doing that, getting depressed, getting bored and then the words fall out before he can over-analyze it.

He was propped up on the couch getting nut cancer from his laptop resting on it all night. colour coded folders with white paper corners jutting out surrounded him. a splash of post-it note here and there topped off with a litre of water to drink from as he worked.
i came out of my room hoisting my belt on and shaking my head to loosen the water dripping from my hair.
"You look nice."
"Thanks!" I reached for my glass of wine that I left in the living room and sucked half of it back.
"Am i to assume you're going out tonight?"
I gasped for breath after chugging 4 mouthfulls down in one swoop. "Yeah! You, uh, you working hard?"
He looked down at the piles of numbers and pages and all that other bullshit that makes me nauseous to think about.
"yeah I fell behind on some stuff i should really work on it..."
I flipped forward and shimmied my fingers through my soaking mop of hair. "Oh you gotta stay on top of that stuff i know."
He peeked over the couch arm to look at the glint coming from my belt buckle.
"C'mere so i can see it. Marry... her... fuck... me. Real class, asshole."
"I live to please. You live to... work on deficit reports? Like you're living the highlife."
"Who's all coming out?"
"Does it matter at this point?"
"JUST! Just tell me."
"Dan's not if that's the deal breaker."
"Really?"
"No. He's picking me up. You looked incredibly hopeful for a minute there."
He slumped down and threw out his lower lip. I leaned over the couch and flipped my finger around it to make him snarl at me to quit it.
"Why don't you get some fucking clothes on and come out. Does hims want some drunky action with the ex? Does hims?"
"No! Of course not.... Why would i?"
"Who doesn't like to get fucked by what they know? No surprise body bits you're not ready for... no unfortunate hygiene habits... Just delicious groping of a familiar ass."
He huffed and pretended that he was going back to work. Be it the fan on the lap top or being lonely i could see him fuss. The cock knows what it longs for, even if you think you're over the gay phase. everyone likes to feel wanted and if that means parking a dick up an ass so be it.
i puttered around in front of the mirror in the living room pulling out rogue eye brow hairs and some subtle eye liner after I was done. I watched Anthony stare off into space, clearly torturing himself over the decision of going out or staying in with the cats.
"You have 23 minutes to get ready before I take off. GO!"
He snapped his laptop shut and bolted up with it under his arm. papers slid down onto the floor and a binder nearly clocked Shir on the head who was napping in confidential documents.
Even i was impressed how fast he took off, but not enough to question his motives. I slid some lip gloss on and narrowed my eyes. "too faggy? yes? no? mmm, but it tastes so nice... Really you're just dropping pills tonight so it's not going to be wiped off with drinks. So, this is an ideal time to put it on! yes, the gloss stays..."

"i got a hand, that means i got a fist"

the waitress laid the palm of her hand over my forehead. she looked tersely off to the side focusing on the exact heat of my head.
"You're a little warm... I guess that's good enough."
i had turned down my usual order of a 1/2 litre of wine and immediately she flew into a panic that i was terminally ill.
and if i died, no one would patiently sit through her many smoke breaks while waiting to get served... Nor would a customer be readily available with her favourite brand of cigarettes.

she trucked off to get my order which was non-alcoholic. she shot me a look before she filled up the glass, pinched hope in her face expecting me to back out of it at the last minute. i stared back and she shook her head.

The table was animated and kibbitzed between checking cells and smart phones... between bites of food and licking glass lips before the booze ran down. shifting tired asses on worn out chairs to lean to the side and roll back the strain of staring at a computer screen all day. I pulled a mouthful of ice tea down and sighed. the only one without a phone out i was an alien being of my usual self: Sober and unconnected. Normally it's the reverse, see?

Normally i'm a twitter thinking and hoping and ignoring reality but i felt knocked down... conversations wafted by me as i looked frozen in one look/thought. the special time of the day when i shoo away the dedicated fantasy of what i want and instead stack up the piles of what i got. this should be a time infused with booze but i was saving up for a new expensive distraction and wanted to try and be sensible. i could get drunk when i got home anyway.

fuck... why didn't i do this before??

damn it... i always forget that i can just do a screen shot instead of typing all this shit out.

fuckin' 'LUDES

oh man... i'm so sad that i'll never have a chance to take one of these!

makeup... again... as always

for the 3 people who read this blog, i guess it looks strange that i post these kinds of pics, but i loooooove slapping some crazy make up on and trying it out.

the dark lipstick is "make your own" with coloured pigments i have, but it doesn't go on even enough. no matter, i'll post them anyway.