Blogging from a remote location. Trying to make the permanent switch without too much muddy water under superficial bridges put in place to drive me comepletely insane...
Oh and new pictures and career developements coming soon.
can you say cryptic?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
The Old Song and Dance
Sunday, October 25, 2009
0
In all of my infinite fabulousity (and trust me it is over 9 thousand) I can not seem to obtain happiness from the same venues as before. My steps are slower, monies have dried up, and companions are leaving at an alarming rate. Why is it that when people haven't seen you for a while one of the first things they ask is 'how's the love life'? Is this one more area of socialization I missed out on by reading and being good at math?
Maybe I am only sensitive to this question because the answer is a constant and stagnantly abysmal reminder that I am STILL alone and undoing this status is a constant psychological struggle.
This brings me to recent events- The Pond is starting back up, the higher ups have yet again changed their backing name (no comment) and once again familiar faces come together to crank the wheels and work the gears for fun, experience, and profit. While I don't mind this, it's old hat, what I do mind is the sinking feeling I get of never being good enough, for things beyond my control like my physical appearance.
Yes, I'm black, lesbian and female- the most visible invisible minority around- and yes I lack the amount of intimacy I would like to have, but that in no way gives someone the right/privilege/nerve to insinuate that I am an ugly dyke fuck up- at least not to my face. Which is usually my problem, I don't have an issue with certain people not finding me attractive, what I have a problem with is that being howled in front of my peers and colleagues as an amusing epithet to be attached to my character. I mean really? ... really?
I am starting to learn (with painful accuracy) that the only person that can take care of me is me. With that being said, I can't burn myself out on trying to make others happy or dance for "mr charlie" if all they are going to do is kick me down. It is also why I have started looking into medicinal (the legal kind, don't get excited) venues to let out and untangle this mess that is reality versus perception versus fantasy.
Can you say the doctor is in?
Maybe I am only sensitive to this question because the answer is a constant and stagnantly abysmal reminder that I am STILL alone and undoing this status is a constant psychological struggle.
This brings me to recent events- The Pond is starting back up, the higher ups have yet again changed their backing name (no comment) and once again familiar faces come together to crank the wheels and work the gears for fun, experience, and profit. While I don't mind this, it's old hat, what I do mind is the sinking feeling I get of never being good enough, for things beyond my control like my physical appearance.
Yes, I'm black, lesbian and female- the most visible invisible minority around- and yes I lack the amount of intimacy I would like to have, but that in no way gives someone the right/privilege/nerve to insinuate that I am an ugly dyke fuck up- at least not to my face. Which is usually my problem, I don't have an issue with certain people not finding me attractive, what I have a problem with is that being howled in front of my peers and colleagues as an amusing epithet to be attached to my character. I mean really? ... really?
I am starting to learn (with painful accuracy) that the only person that can take care of me is me. With that being said, I can't burn myself out on trying to make others happy or dance for "mr charlie" if all they are going to do is kick me down. It is also why I have started looking into medicinal (the legal kind, don't get excited) venues to let out and untangle this mess that is reality versus perception versus fantasy.
Can you say the doctor is in?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
And Then the Bubble Popped.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
0
Lackluster birthdays, fleeting autumnal flings and a fledgling freelance photog career have all been in the works lately.
I met R- girl through the only thing that actually provides me with social interaction (cbd) with the same sex. We laughed, and conversed- I spouted a dirty sentence in another tongue and she didn't cringe, (keeper obviously). She kissed me quiet, we took it further and she actually kept in touch (quite the first) and I thought this might be the one- so what she's leaving the country, touts vegetarian eateries and frolics about nature- I tried to hold on, but not too tight as I am oft prone but she cut the cord and made a run for it, like they all do.
I was called at the eleventh hour and given buzzwords like bond girl; sultry; mysterious. I was told to bring my camera and capture a young "entertainer" and schlep all the way to midtown in the middle of the night. I get there, with drinks and laughs but when it was time to get down to business- this was no bond girl and the only mystery was how was I going to make a lack of light and shiny fabrics look flattering on a newly pudgy frame. Four hours and 200+ frames later I was called an amateur (for not bringing lights) and ready to shoot off my big mouth before being yanked for a cig break, causing my target to escape unchastised - but hey I got paid right?
The rest of the weekend was spent working more than twice as hard for free- being drained of my control, opinions and general good nature. Both of these situations I learned way too much from, which is really the mark of growth right?
In a confusing romantic turn, I was actually pursued (for once) by a younger, poetic bisexual- shaky premises abound I remain aloof of this entire genre.
The birthday outing I had planned (barely) was washy at best. We hit up a clothing store doling out free booze and compliments for my new look
which was going well until Fernando's guest started throwing tantrums and Zach refused to show... I guess disappointed is to be expected in my old age.
So now I lay here, tweaking photos in photoshop/winning online game site badges/haphazardly working on my sweater and planning yet another new fashion awakening I can't help but wonder if all of my side projects are just a distraction for what I really want but am afraid I can never have.
can you say zonked?
I met R- girl through the only thing that actually provides me with social interaction (cbd) with the same sex. We laughed, and conversed- I spouted a dirty sentence in another tongue and she didn't cringe, (keeper obviously). She kissed me quiet, we took it further and she actually kept in touch (quite the first) and I thought this might be the one- so what she's leaving the country, touts vegetarian eateries and frolics about nature- I tried to hold on, but not too tight as I am oft prone but she cut the cord and made a run for it, like they all do.
I was called at the eleventh hour and given buzzwords like bond girl; sultry; mysterious. I was told to bring my camera and capture a young "entertainer" and schlep all the way to midtown in the middle of the night. I get there, with drinks and laughs but when it was time to get down to business- this was no bond girl and the only mystery was how was I going to make a lack of light and shiny fabrics look flattering on a newly pudgy frame. Four hours and 200+ frames later I was called an amateur (for not bringing lights) and ready to shoot off my big mouth before being yanked for a cig break, causing my target to escape unchastised - but hey I got paid right?
The rest of the weekend was spent working more than twice as hard for free- being drained of my control, opinions and general good nature. Both of these situations I learned way too much from, which is really the mark of growth right?
In a confusing romantic turn, I was actually pursued (for once) by a younger, poetic bisexual- shaky premises abound I remain aloof of this entire genre.
The birthday outing I had planned (barely) was washy at best. We hit up a clothing store doling out free booze and compliments for my new look
which was going well until Fernando's guest started throwing tantrums and Zach refused to show... I guess disappointed is to be expected in my old age.
So now I lay here, tweaking photos in photoshop/winning online game site badges/haphazardly working on my sweater and planning yet another new fashion awakening I can't help but wonder if all of my side projects are just a distraction for what I really want but am afraid I can never have.
can you say zonked?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Almost Back
Thursday, September 3, 2009
0
The foot beast has finally been cut and drained!
I'd like to give a shout out to my man Dr. Chen and his swat team goggle combo mask.
Now there is nothing but a temperamental hole and a clear road to recovery, so I am almost back to the fabulous- to fill in for the lack of schooling that will be going on there will be much creativity afoot.
Sketching, Photography, Video, Sewing, Magic!
can you say macro plan?
I'd like to give a shout out to my man Dr. Chen and his swat team goggle combo mask.
Now there is nothing but a temperamental hole and a clear road to recovery, so I am almost back to the fabulous- to fill in for the lack of schooling that will be going on there will be much creativity afoot.
Sketching, Photography, Video, Sewing, Magic!
can you say macro plan?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Slippery Slope
Thursday, August 27, 2009
0
The non existence posts have been replaced with combination drugs and howling at the moon. I went to the emergency room to see if they could cut and suck this lump on my foot and was promptly told that they would not and by promptly I mean after 7 hours and the introduction of an ass-out-gown which I tied at the hip to provide modesty and flare.
The little pimple that made my toes numb morphed into a true blue abscess that shoots salty daggers through my entire body at a moments notice, like every time I breath or try to go to the bathroom by myself. It has been a bit of a miserable little existence. The sexiest words to me right now are "spontaneous rupture" or the no harm no foul version of the cut and suck method I've been siding with through this whole ordeal.
Upside? I learned during bath time that it makes my leg incredibly buoyant, also mom has provided me with a neo to go capsule that I can spray on tightening skin without actually rubbing lotion on anything.
I feel like one of those morbidly obese people one would constantly see on television, being cut out of their house and air lifted to a hospital. I can't walk, standing still for more than 10 minutes at a time is painful and the only thing getting a workout around here are my lungs when I've made a wrong turn in my newly formatted bed (for optimum foot raising options).
this is week two of what started out as itching skin that I had to sponge down and vacuum up every once in a while. Now I'm outsourcing all of my needs and whims on the family and gathering multiple idle threats for it since they aren't the Florence Nightingale types. But a positive outlook is the key I guess, at the end of all this I may be too fat to fit in any of my clothes but I might just be big enough to fit in everyone else's!
can you say medicinal haze?
The little pimple that made my toes numb morphed into a true blue abscess that shoots salty daggers through my entire body at a moments notice, like every time I breath or try to go to the bathroom by myself. It has been a bit of a miserable little existence. The sexiest words to me right now are "spontaneous rupture" or the no harm no foul version of the cut and suck method I've been siding with through this whole ordeal.
Upside? I learned during bath time that it makes my leg incredibly buoyant, also mom has provided me with a neo to go capsule that I can spray on tightening skin without actually rubbing lotion on anything.
I feel like one of those morbidly obese people one would constantly see on television, being cut out of their house and air lifted to a hospital. I can't walk, standing still for more than 10 minutes at a time is painful and the only thing getting a workout around here are my lungs when I've made a wrong turn in my newly formatted bed (for optimum foot raising options).
this is week two of what started out as itching skin that I had to sponge down and vacuum up every once in a while. Now I'm outsourcing all of my needs and whims on the family and gathering multiple idle threats for it since they aren't the Florence Nightingale types. But a positive outlook is the key I guess, at the end of all this I may be too fat to fit in any of my clothes but I might just be big enough to fit in everyone else's!
can you say medicinal haze?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Technicality of Day 3
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
0
In two hours I will need to take more magical pills
can I just pause for a moment and express my love for Fefe Dobson?
oh and how I saw Simon Doonan at whole foods while on a fruit salad and parfait snack run, of course I stared like hick into the sun and tripped all over myself- yea I'm that girl.
anywho, my foot has been getting better, there's a blister on it that makes my toes go numb when i press on it but I'm counting it as the process, I'm also hoping my inner surgeon does not take over and slice it open to let the pressure (read: evil spirits) out.
Yesterday was Natasha's birthday, I wanted to be there but I'm not enough of an in control drinker to not drink in a bar if I'm feeling well, so it would have been a bad deal all around but I sent my best wishes and headed back home to continue my "regimen".
My ichat status read "meds a-plenty" and I got an instant message from Tatiana inquiring if I had a xanax hook up. What a fucking bottom feeder, you would think after not talking to someone for years and after multiple imposed failed attempts to "hang" that one would stop the crippling charade that we are any kind of cordial acquaintance.
I even resisted the urge to reply with something snide and undercutting
can you say growth?
can I just pause for a moment and express my love for Fefe Dobson?
oh and how I saw Simon Doonan at whole foods while on a fruit salad and parfait snack run, of course I stared like hick into the sun and tripped all over myself- yea I'm that girl.
anywho, my foot has been getting better, there's a blister on it that makes my toes go numb when i press on it but I'm counting it as the process, I'm also hoping my inner surgeon does not take over and slice it open to let the pressure (read: evil spirits) out.
Yesterday was Natasha's birthday, I wanted to be there but I'm not enough of an in control drinker to not drink in a bar if I'm feeling well, so it would have been a bad deal all around but I sent my best wishes and headed back home to continue my "regimen".
My ichat status read "meds a-plenty" and I got an instant message from Tatiana inquiring if I had a xanax hook up. What a fucking bottom feeder, you would think after not talking to someone for years and after multiple imposed failed attempts to "hang" that one would stop the crippling charade that we are any kind of cordial acquaintance.
I even resisted the urge to reply with something snide and undercutting
can you say growth?
Monday, August 17, 2009
Dr Feel Good
Monday, August 17, 2009
0
In a further attempt at self betterment I went to the doctor today, found out what I suspected before the 3 weeks ago when I made the appointment, which was that my foot is infected and heavy duty drugs are needed. I am honestly just happy she didn't consider lopping it off.
Erythromycin: an antibiotic
may cause diarrhea, vomiting, abdominal pain and other gastrointestinal disturbances. (yum yum)
fluocinonide: corticosteroid
couldn't really get much info on the adverse effects of this stuff but the good doc did tell me to keep it away from my eyes and to wash my hands after applying it so mom suggested I put it on with latex gloves.
all in all I've taken/applied two doses of each and all's clear, the early 20's invincibility sector of my brain won't allow me to think that the stomach trouble can treat me worse than bad bourbon so in a week or two I will be able to toast to good health!
can you say tip top shape?
Erythromycin: an antibiotic
may cause diarrhea, vomiting, abdominal pain and other gastrointestinal disturbances. (yum yum)
fluocinonide: corticosteroid
couldn't really get much info on the adverse effects of this stuff but the good doc did tell me to keep it away from my eyes and to wash my hands after applying it so mom suggested I put it on with latex gloves.
all in all I've taken/applied two doses of each and all's clear, the early 20's invincibility sector of my brain won't allow me to think that the stomach trouble can treat me worse than bad bourbon so in a week or two I will be able to toast to good health!
can you say tip top shape?
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