Self as Harmonica

This is a "poem" that I wrote during a group, in ten minutes. We had to grab an object out of a bag and write about it in relation to ourselves. And I grabbed a white harmonica.

Oh I was born a ramblin' man.
Dylan as Rimbaud, Lennon as Lewis Carrol.
It may be hollow but it's full of noise. It may be white but it's got soul, brother.
Music coming from the empty. Music as sound and noise, a caucophony until the word "music" has lost all it's meaning.
A hobo, that king of hobos, getting off his boxcar in Ames, Iowa and carving a picture of a cat or my grandfather's fence. A song for a nickle.
A penny for your thoughts?
Just a little handfull of old cliches, sung with a twang.
What was once the Jew's harp becomes the mouth organ. What was once a hole in your face, finally filled by what you always dreaded: Clumsy sounds and the taste of metal.
Stuff it in and blow it out, baby,
Because you've got a harmony in your head.

Volunteerism

So I've been volunteering at this place, Second Harvest Food Bank, and it kind of blows. It doesn't, like, terminally blow, but it does blow.
The first time they had me stuffing envelopes for some event ("Wine, Women and Food". The invitation were hot pink with a high heel on them, barf out.) That was fine until my ipod ran out of batteries and the fucking folding chair I was sitting in started totally KILLING my back. It hurt do bad that I went into the dirty bathroom and lied down on the FLOOR. I'm not really scared of germs or anything, but that's pretty skanky.
Another time they had us putting meals together, assembly line style. That was kind of nice because I enjoy doing simple, repetitive tasks, Oh, you want me to put two cans on a plate and send it down the line? OK! I can do that all day! Just keep on this station that always plays Wings, Blondie, and The Beach Boy's "Kokomo". I hope you are not reading any sarcasm into this because I am not being sarcastic. Yes, I am aware that "Kokomo" was the utter downfall of one of the best bands of all time, but I love it still.
Since then, we have been doing the same thing, which is sorting through the donations. We get boxes of jumbled food products, then we un-jumble them and put the stuff into other boxes, separated by category. This is surprisingly horrible, for various reasons.
Firstly, the quality of food we get. How are these poor people going to be able to go get jobs when you're feeding them, like, Caprisun, canned Vienna sausages, and candy left over from Valentine's day, or, SERIOUSLY, big tubs of corn starch? Is everyone they are feeding obese, lethargic, and dying of scurvy?
And as if that wasn't bad enough, you wouldn't believe the absolutely VAST quantities of food we throw out. About 1/3 of the donations received never get to people in need. Perfectly edible food, in the trash. What hungry person, what person at all, would turn up their nose at Oreos one month past their expiration date, or canned cord with part of the nutritional information on the label turn off? We also toss dented cans, and things that have gotten sticky from some other food in their box bursting. I can only hope and pray that they don't lock those dumpsters, and that some enterprising homeless person or freegan anarchist can benefit from all that waste. If it's actually going to the landfill, that would be absolutely criminal.
Finally, there is the very immediate concern that everything is FILTHY. It seems like every item is sticky, or dusty, or covered in coffee grounds or powdered kool-aid. Every other cereal box (sugar cereal, all of it) is leaking. A box of maple syrup will invariably have one bad bottle, covering the rest in slime. Sometimes... oh I can't bear it... sometimes, there are maggots. AAAHH oh god. And do we get gloves? No we do not get gloves. It's vomit inducing. I have to totally wash my hands Silkwood-style after I'm done.
But like I said, it could be worse. I have a job interview on Tuesday, so maybe I can show my consistency and also get fuckin' PAID, homies.

kJZHCx

so much going on, none of which I can talk about. Send me a message on facebook and i will get you all caught up! Yes I have still been journaling! Just not putting those journals up on the blogggggggg.

The "Photographer" finally takes some photos

Space Balls

Did you guys hear about the space shuttle that got launched today? Probably you did but didn't pay much attention because, like, space is kind of played out. Remember how galaxy photos were the coolest thing in the world for like five months? And then it made it's way to, like, Urban Outfitters or whatever, and then it was over. But that isn't the point of this, nor is the fact that if we put some of that NASA money into fuckin' Africa we could actually make real changes on earth. The point is that I'm in Florida. And Florida is where space shuttles come from. And it was so exciting!
Everyone started getting super psyched about 10 minuted to launch. We were watching it on TV. And then they started the countdown! And then we saw these sparks ignite the fuel! And then everyone booked it outside because WE COULD SEE IT IN THE SKY! We're in Florida! We're right by it! I think it's in Tampa or something!
It was like seeing a comet, except, uh, in the opposite direction. And with a huge trail of smoke that didn't go away for hours. And can you see a comet in the daytime? I don't know. I don't think I've ever seen a comet. But I've seen a rocket! And that's even kind of cooler because there's PEOPLE in it! Awesome! Totally Awesome! I bet comets are awesome, too! And shooting stars! And hot air balloons!
Goooo team things-in-the-sky! Let's stay up all night and watch meteors this summer!

VICE (hey! relatives and other grownups! don't read this one!)

I really mean it, stop reading this now if you are related to me or are my parent's' friends or anything like that! No grownups allowed!

I started smoking. How did this happen? Because, obvious, it's a stupid idea. Cancer, etc. Here's what happened. I am stressed out beyond belief. First of all, The new girl (only 2nd newest, now. We got 3 new people this week. Henceforth she will be known as "the awful girl") is literally the worst person I have ever met in my life. She fakes sick or injured every day. She has called me "the biggest bitch in the world" (screamed it at me, actually) three times. (Her reason why she thinks I'm a bitch? Because I "talk all smart all the time." That's because I AM smart you fucking moron! That's not condescension,! It's reading books other than the fuckin "Twilight" saga! She is horrible. Awful awful awful. I don't think I've ever hated someone like this before. And HATING someone and being called names and having her talking behind my back telling other people not to hang out with me (of course they laugh in her face, EVERYONE hates her and I am generally well liked) is, like, really stressful. Finding a job is stressful. Never having any time by myself except when I'm asleep (and there is still a monitor in the other room) is stressful. Also stressful is that ANOTHER near-retarded person told me I talk too smart and it's annoying (this one is a staff member. I have helpfully provided a few quotes from her to illustrate her extreme dumbness: "You've got to nip that problem in the BUTT." "Rome wasn't built OVERNIGHT." "We'll figure that out when we cross that bridge." This is just a small sample. She talks that way, seriously, in every sentence she speaks. Oh, and she thinks "pizzeria" is pronounced "pizz-A-ria" and she gets super pissed and defensive when people try to correct her. Idiot.) Stressful! And I can't BELIEVE how much cigarettes help. It's like night and day.
Plus, most of my friends here smoke. I know most of my friends at home smoke, too, but we're not all forced into close quarters all day every day back at home. And I was allowed to smoke pot at home. I just want to be with my friends... and some dudes.
Yes, dudes. It has finally reached the point where I can not longer stand to be away from boys. I loooove them! And I feel shitty about it because, uh, still technically married? But dudes? Not like, I hella need to get fucked or anything. I just want to see some boners! Bonerz R Beautiful! And really, I am just desperate for male attention and affection. And I need to know this stuff, anyway. I never really learned how to flirt. I was in a serious relationship since I was 18! So, I need to prepare for my crappy new life as a SINGLE WOMAN. And this is a good place to practice because we're all together all the time. Plus, well, there's pretty slim pickin's, as far as other girls go. Pretty much all the other girls here either have something going already, are sexually traumatized, or are even grosser than me. (I know! Can you even believe it! Naw, I'm just playin'.) People always say, like, "oh, any guy will have sex with anybody" but... is that even true? How does this WORK? Why don't I KNOW this shit?
So, there you have it. Vices. I haves them, and they seem to be progressing in number and size. I'm supposed to be getting betterrrr. I don't want to end up happily turning tricks for cartons of smokes!

John and Yoko: (I will never write about this ever again)

We went and saw an exhibition of John Lennon's art work and it was beautiful and touching. There was this series of "erotics" of naked Yoko or John and Yoko having sex and all that. I'd never seen these works before. Really different than the usual doodle-y things he does. I looked at everything so hard, I got so close to the paintings. I was in there a good half hour longer than everyone else.
And then, I went outside and I cried and cried and cried. John and Yoko were very big symbols to me and my John. They represent an ideal, perfect love that was able to overcome and obstacle (existing marriage, drug addiction, public scrutiny and disapproval, racial barriers, the fucking Beatles, a fucking government conspiracy, and even death). And they were perfect inspirational artistic muses for each other. And they loved each other, and their cat, and later on their little boy.
And Jon and I felt like that, like our partnership was written in the stars and that just by being together we could change the world. He was my strange, small Asian love. Look, we even made t-shirts.
And then it started to change. And then he left. And I'm not saying I didn't do anything nasty, because I did. But he's the one who left.
And I did everything to bring him back Even though things weren't good at the end, I knew we could make it better. I mean, even the Ono-Lennon's had their famed "lost weekend", where Yoko made John date her assistant and he kept showing up at clubs wearing a maxi pad on his forehead. They fixed it. They wanted to fix it and they did. Not all the methods I used to try to get Jon to fix things with me were positive ones, but at least I tried. He didn't try.
As of last week, it's officially over.
Seven years together, three months of marriage. It's strange to really, really hate someone who you also love more than anyone else in the world.
And Valentine's Day is the anniversary of our first date. We went to a party in Davis that was themed "Sex and Violence" and I dressed up as Uma Thurman in "Pulp Fiction" with a mark for where to stab me with a hypodermic needle full of adrenaline. Jon didn't dress as anything, he took too much cold medicine. It was all OK, though. It was wonderful.
It's also the anniversary of the first time we had sex. (They were co-occurring events). Yes, we lost our virginities to each other). He was so sweet. "The Mars Volta" was playing.
The fact that this person, the person who has been the very most important person in my adult life, has gone, seems pretty much unimaginable. I'm shocked, I'm heartbroken, and I guess I need a new boyfriend? Sorry about that flippancy. I don't know, it's just... my desire for male approval is sky high. But if HE ever, EVER is with someone else, I'll lay down and die. That is the very worst thing that could ever happen. I would rather the world ended.
I know he will be pissed I wrote this. I don't care. I need to be honest and open for this one. My heart hurts. I can't care about what he wants me to do anymore, because no matter what I can't change his mind about me. Jon, what happened to John and Yoko? I thought we'd always have Valentine's day.