Memphis is burning tonight....The Chef electrocuted himself and we closed early...madness and bad hip-hop ensued...

I got into a whipcream fight with a Polish Girl.

I am having a slumber party with my favorite chef...

I am leaving Memphis once and for all.

I gotta plan. a good one. wish I could tell ya but I can't...

I am just scared.Never been scared like this.

I run away alot. I mean tons, more than most people-in very odd and obvious ways...

I guess I am getting to old for it...women turn to vinegar, men to wine, and my bottle has been left open on the bar without the cork for too long...

but before leaving, I become hypersensitive...My memories of each city are a series of freeze frames,context, syntaxt... the people characters from old Neapolitan theatre...the Pucinella, the Pappagaddr....

tonight bad music met cheap whiskey and the city danced... I stood back, already somewhere else...staring at the past as it became present.

This city has brought out the worst in me...I wanna fix it and check this baggage at the airport.

Some of you I will see very soon-others-never again...

A domani, A bientot...

I love languages,
dialects,semantics...syntax...reading between the
lines..Every relationship has its own language...and
when that relationship dies-its language turns into
sanskrit-carved on some stones in some weird part of
your collective identity...

imagine what you and I can communicate in a look, a
touch,a reference to a place or thing...and long after
love becomes latin, a smell or a song can drum up that
dead language...

The last weeks we were together I had dreams of you
leaving or cheating...the first dream I had of you
since my rampage, was you telling me everything would
be okay.

guess the mind is tricky like that...It seems like the
one person you should be able to trust is you-but
sometimes the psyche is all smoke and
mirrors...relationships are tough and the one you have
have with yourself-at times-the most difficult.

I miss the house. The red walls in the kitchen, the
electric fireplace, the berk-berks,I miss the
foundation, the walls that we played in,lazy
mornings...

I miss the man I fell in love with...who stayed up all
night fixing the bike for me, who drank pitchers of
sangria with shawn and I at panchos, who introduced me
to richard, who let me get to know micheal patrick as
more than some bar room lech, who drove me to chicago
and fell into a jewish tragedy, who bought me tommy,
who had sex with me in the kitchen on front street,
who made me love him-come hell or blue flamed buttton
ups.

where did he go?

my body has changed...as well as my perspective...but
I crave that language, our own type of aramaic...

I want to sneak into your house and bake you a
lasagna...I want to play with you and the
berk-berks...

I miss you tonight.come hell or grateful dead button
ups

Dear Mom,

I don't think I am capable of doing anything right.

recently I reconciled with Mr. Gita, because of the dogs
mostly,but also because holidays alone without friends
makes one feel bad about themself-and all our friends
are mutual ones.

the other night I stayed over and he would not kiss me
goodnight and tuck me in to bed,because he couldn't
leave his cocaine long enough to do so.For the last
year and a half it has been this way-I thought he was
just a drunk-but those times he drank he was mixing it
with blow.So, that explains all the financial woes we
were having.

One night, since I was back from SF, he was doing his
allnight computer poker thing. I moved the computer
and there was blow.

I bet he is doing between 600-1000 a week.

Which for the life of me,I don't get. I tried blow a
few times in highschool/college-I don't get what
people like. Once it made my face numb, another time
it made my nose burn and for maybe 10 minutes I felt
sorta speedy-but within the half-hour I wanted a
sandwich and a nap.I just don't get it.

I have tried just about every drug. There isn't one
that ever made me want to sacrifice ANYTHING.

Meanwhile I have been in a relationship with an
addict. I just don't get it.

That should have been enough for me never to go
back-but it wasn't. And now I don't trust myself to
make the right decision.

I went to meet Mr. Gita at his job so we could go back to the house. He
never showed up because he was still on a bender.

I lost my mind.I saw red. My closest friend and my
roommate work with Mr. Gita, in fact He is my
roommate's boss, I went and found them, and just
started ranting and bawling.

I am officially "that girl".

The girl in bad relationship.
The girl who is co-dependent
The girl who lost herself somewhere in the middle.

well, while I was pouring my heart out to my friends,
some of his management team overheard me saying that
No he didn't have car trouble he was on a bender.

So instead of being smart and strong and healthy and
ending this relationship in a clean way-I threw a
temper tantrum and insulted him until he did it.

So I am in Memphis.

Alone.

and there is no end in sight.

This was not who I was supposed to be.

I have always trusted me, even if no one else.

I have always thought of myself as smart and vibrant
and someone who would succeed.

Every decision I have made has been a bad one.

he was a bad decision
coming back here to save up money-didn't work out
coming to memphis-may turn out to be a good learning
experience if a survive it.

I made a little money this week. I paid rent and
bought new running pants( they were 8.99 so it's not
like I splurged). I think my focus in the next few
weeks is not going to be spending christmas alone but
fitness. I need something to get me out of bed BESIDES
work.Jogging.

Help.

I just don't understand how I got here.