Little Green Faeries

2007-04-19T19:21:00.000-07:00

so the desert is pulling me back...catch up at

www.mistressgita.blogspot.com

2007-03-30T14:31:00.000-07:00

Pecora=Sheep in Italian
Pecorino=is the masculine diminutive of sheep, and refers to cheese, generally such as Pecorino Romano,Pecorino di Pienza.
Pecorina=the feminine dimunitive of sheep refers to a certain sexual position most often associated with prison sex.
why do I tell you this? a lesson in etymology? No, my friends,it is a cautionary tale.
Picture this...yours truly drinking wine, eating buffalo mozzerella drizzled in honey, with my girls, at a hole in the wall restaurant in Calabria, that doubles as a gas station.
the owner, wanting to be hospitable to all people, but being extra hospitable to the American, being in an area that rarely sees an American, is cooking up all kinds of food, pouring me glasses of wine etc.
now let me interject that all products that come from the sheep, have a distinct smell. If you ever had contact with lanolino puro, you understand.
I am an american from California, i didn't grow up eating sheep. My mother would make lamb every so often, but lamb doesn't stink like ewe. So I associate that distinct odor with Calabrian cuisine.
Now let's go back to the scene of the crime...I had been drinking wine, my italian was getting lazy and the owner brings out this rice dish...it hit my mouth and I knew there was something sheep in there.
I asked him about it, but I chose the wrong words. Instead of realizing my gaff right away, I read his face wrong and thought that he thought that I said pecorina( prison sex) instead of cheese (pecorino).So instead of letting it be, I said
" you know I said the rice smells like cheese not prison sex"
at that point I had really outdone myself.
he filled my wine glass and instructed my girls to toast me.
It is amazing how I can trash up a place.

2007-03-21T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have had it. I am done. I need to sew my vagina shut. It brings me nothing but problemi. Anche se ci sono alcuni momenti di piacere, il male che viene dopo vengo, is not worth it.

I have always felt that you should keep your friends close and your ex boyfriends closer.

I am done walking on eggshells and playing nice. I am done.

I am sick of the naked and vulnerable becoming the cold and removed as I get on yet another plane.

I am sick of the righteous. The rigid. The toxic.

I am sick of the way I factor in to all of this.

2007-03-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

Things you should know about stuff you don't care about

If you are ever in Italy and manage to work your way in to the home/heart/bed of a local, there are a few things you should know.

Do not count on common sense or civic familiarity when acessing simple indicators as sidewalks,traffic lights,large multi-generational families eating gelato...They are not your friends!!! People idle on the sidewalks and walk in the streets. Some cities have not much in the way of safe pedestrian passageways. Generally any place you find a walk way you find a glut of motorini and piles of feces that question ostentatiously " Was that left by a dog or a donkey?".Please also note, signs such as "walk,yield, stop, one way street" are looked upon as oppressive and somehow linked with capitalism,fascism,nazism,america, the white devil, poverty in Africa, Osama bin Laden, Mickey Mouse, Betty White and the Devil himself. They are frowned upon or rebelled against outright.

A four way stop is like an experiment in social darwinism.

Though free in the streets Italians are otherwise quite regulated. There is a specific time and a place for everything-unless you are in Vatican City and there is never time for pre-marital sex,gay-marriage,spilling of seed outside a woman's fecund womb, Betty White,You Can't Do That On Televsion, corn on the cob-due to it's un-holy implications...but I digress.Oh and Alan Thicke. The Pope hates Alan Thicke. Someone must have told him he was a jew or muslim or something like that.

Yes, for an Italian, to eat eggs in the morning or to do things when conventions dictate otherwise would be a mistake, an act against the Pope and somehow a silent vote for homosexuality. Here is a sample conversation between Enzo and I
ME : "Hey it's lunchtime, let's go now, no one will be there"
ENZO: "But it's lunchtime".

And so it has been for years.

Always wear shoes. To walk barefoot in the house is an equal offense to, lets say, pedophilia or exposings ones' genitals to strangers. Italians are totally freaked about bacteria transference, but drink shelf stable milk and don't refridgerate eggs.Go figure

Always blow dry your hair. ALWAYS!!! This is one of the major canons of being Italian.Leaving the house with wet hair in the middle of summer is still frowned upon. Somehow wet hair is associated with the Black Plague and is not tolerated under any circumstance. My natural abberation to the hair dryer has earned me the nickname "Donna Rana" or frog woman because I am perceived as green and amphibious
After a relationship with this country that spans nearly a decade, I still revel in the subtle differences.Leonardo, one of my roommies comments on my constant laughter. Well, yeah, DUH of course I am laughing. Here I can totally surrender to my role as observer. People are pretty funny,ecclectic, boring, beautiful,grotesque,smelly and self possessed in the most unique ways. We all seem to think we are snowflakes, and guess, to some degree, we are...but in the immortal words of this horrible drunk I saw trying to pick up a very un-impressed black girl

"Come on baby, you know we are all pink on the inside".

2007-03-09T10:51:00.000-08:00

The stratosphere
And
I am on
Top
with you
Below
Smiling,
Scared
of heights
So my eyes are closed
with you
Inside me
Immaculate
naked,naked
beautiful
I
catch my breath,your breath
Then let them
go
now
This is us
wax limbs
hot melting into
each other
Far too close,
now
Far too close to
The sun,
like the desert outside
sweating
And this
is all you know of
me burning
mouth moving over
you
warm skin
this, that
me before
I started this
running
And this
is all I know
you nervous
Tumbling,
Fumbling over
hands,words
this,that
you
I crave,carried with me
On the road
I spent years
running
trying
to fill
holes,
empty
with holes
I dug
On my own
trying to forget
you
I forgot
myself
And now
I am on top
dangling,tangling
with you
your breath
my breath
the stratosphere
shaking,scared
eyes closed
I don't want to
let you
go
and I am
naked,naked
terrified
for the first time
in years
I am not
running
and this is us
skin,salt
left to say
what we won't
don't worry
or forget
I love you

march 9th 2007 rome

2007-02-25T18:43:00.001-08:00

Laundry List:Vegas Edition

Las Vegas

Boundless

Emotional

A rally in solidarity

stolen kisses

something soft and without words.

vodka and blackjack

really good tuna melts

hookers who know where the condoms are at 2am

you.

desert dust meets casino glitz

a vengeful sun after a night of sexual insomnia

both loud and subversive.

my future.

mine alone.

Don't forget

I love you.

2007-02-25T18:02:00.000-08:00

So, for those of you who have come into this show late in the game, let the Mistress give a you a little History lesson.

Most of you know me as a wild wine drinking traveller with an atlas and no sense of direction.
well, I always have been a victim of some serious wanderlust, but I used to have some sense of where I was headed.

Summer of 2oo1,I was dividing my time between northern and southern california, doing something I loved, dating someone I truly loved and res.ected...I was about to graduate college...everything seemed .erfect.

Then reality came knocking. We were young, I didn't want to bend my life to fit his, he didn't know what he wanted from me or from life. We divided.

I cried, in a beanbag, in my livingroom, while watching hours of "Law and Order" reruns.I couldn't eat or feel. Then I graduated and there was the attack on the towers in NYC. My direction was lost under a sadness I couldn't see around or my way out of.

I went to Italy. Then Guatemala.Then here. I decided I would avoid California and the life that I lost there.

Flash forward six years. I am offered a job doing what I was doing in 2oo1, by the guy I was doing 2oo1.

I fly to Vegas to begin the interviewing .rocess and he flys out to monitor the situation.

wow.

We met and found a similar rhythm and electricity. It was amazing. Until morning.

I didn't realize how much I missed him. I don't know if I believe that there is only one great love in our lives...but if its true,I bet he is it. Which makes me really sad.

2007-02-11T17:39:00.000-08:00

I had a complete meltdown at work

We have a policy that large parties are automatically "service compris" and checks are not divided.

Educated diners don't have a problem with this. Idiots do. Ah, and this is a world full of idiots.

I was kind enough to divide the check for a table of overprivileged snot nosed kids. They were 19-22 with gold amex cards.

I made an error. And the girl told me to void off all the cards and start over. Well, I wasn't about to do that. Not for all the Karma that being kind to such vile collections of DNA would buy me.

Then a silver spoon dropped out of one of their mouthes long enough for her to insult me, my intelligence,the world at large...I can't even tell you what she said-the next thing I know I am throwing their credit cards in their perfectly corn-fed little aryan faces and screaming at them to, and I quote, "GET THE FUCK OUT,GO,GET THE FUCK OUT".

Man. My coworkers said that they saw me shake my head,rear back, and then that's when the yelling started. It is all really blurry for me.But they said all their customers were really,really nice.

2007-02-03T17:49:00.000-08:00

Italians Only Blog

Ieri ho incontrato uno di Macedonia al lavoro. Lui diceva che americani non sanno niente delle altre culture etc...Ho detto " Ma non e vero, anche se non so molto di Macedonia, almeno so che avete una insalata di frutta molto buona". Lui mi guardava male. MALE! Ho s.iegato che in Italia la macedonia e una minestra di frutta.Che era una battuta.

ma una cosa che non avrai mai .ensato se non avessi incontrato quello...ma cosa e diverso fra una insalata di frutta e una macedonia? e come si taglia la frutta? se si mette succo di frutta? E non dico che la macedonia e vicino L' Albania e una insalata di frutta si mangia in Italia.

hmmmm

chi na via fa

2007-01-07T20:53:00.001-08:00

Tonight I drank tequila with an anthropologist,a photographer, and a Los Angeles Times Columnist.

It isn't as glamorous as it sounds...they sat in my section, and the journalist ordered a shot of tequila in spanish and I answered back in spanish and it was on- it was something like this

"Hay tequila aqui" (him)

"Si,tenemos Cabo Wabo,Don Eduardo, y Patron"

"Don Eduardo?"

"Yeah, sounds like a pedophile to me" (smirking)

"No, Tio Eduardo, sounds like a pedophile"

"Si, porque tio eduardo gustan los ninos!"

I heard him turn to the table and say "This girl feels familar, she is funny"

Then we made formal introductions.

He was a writer for the LA times doing a piece here. I guess he is pretty famous...
We joked and drank, and he said

"what are you and your big brain planning for the future? What do you really want, because you are too smart for this? You know, your problem isn't lack of ability but being capable of doing anything.

I am not writing all this to brag. More than anything I find it sad that he saw so much potential in me in the first 5 minutes, and I wake up being me everyday and struggle with feeling capable enough to get out of bed.

Things at work have been insane. Things at home have been even crazier. I am too exhausted to elaborate now, but basically it can be summed up by saying:

At work, I love where I work, but the money sucks, and because the head chef is the owner-it can be very disorganized. In a small place like ours, if the owner fights with his wife, it can create drama for all of us. Also, I am waitressing and working in the kitchen-which I love, but restaurants are often divided by FOH (Front of the house-waitstaff) and BOH (back of the house-kitchen) and I just don't fit.

Also, I have no real home.I sometimes stay at the house with my pups-but it is Mr. Gita's place, and he treats me like a leper. Sometimes I stay with MP ( the sweet chef) because he is subletting my old appartment, but ultimately it is his place. I pay rent at another apartment, but I live with a couple, so as wonderful as they are to me, sometimes I don't feel welcome. For months I have been walking on eggshells that were long since broken.

This is the bottom. It has to be. I couldn't survive a low lower than this.

2006-12-22T21:58:00.000-08:00

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...

2006-12-03T15:54:00.000-08:00

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

2006-12-01T20:25:00.000-08:00

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.

2006-11-16T20:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Sweet and Lonely Prince,

flights are cheap to vegas.

like really cheap. it is scary. all roads lead to home, I suppose.

I am not sure when I can make it. I spent yesterday at the hospital with my friend who attempted suicide,and when he was revived on the scene-refused treatment-then got arrested and treated against his will.He was my first true friend here. He brought me into the fold.On Valentine's day, 2003, I walked into a restaurant where he was. As soon as I walked in,alone, he had the whole restaurant stand up and wish me a happy valentine's day-then he gave me a big hug. Charismatic and big hearted-big hearted and unstable-like everyone in my life.

and the day before my friend died. I saw him like an hour before it happened-I passed him and just waved cuz it was cold and I was in a hurry. It is funny how we just move thru our lives, in our little bubbles, rubbing against other bubbles without ever really touching anyone or being touched.

but I guess all that touching stuff is what always gets me in trouble.Not that I ever mean to burst anyone's bubble.

MG

2006-11-02T17:48:00.000-08:00

www.cafe61memphis.com (check out the site)

As I sit here,drinking calimocho, in both anticipation and dread for the weekend that lay before me, let us recap the events of restaurants past-

Rednecks. Redneck diners are the bane of my existence. They overflow from across the big muddy or from the deepest corners of the south.They want cans of beer and Cap't Pyrtle's chicken bucket-but feel the need to flood downtown memphis to torture the waitstaff and show off their favorite bolo tie or union jack tattoo.

I work at a restaurant that is delta kitchen meets the rest of the epicurean universe-and it is like fine dining in short pants. We have plastic table cloths and 4 star cusine. I love the concept and we have AMAZING food. But it is still delta kitchen and maintains enough, atleast at first glance, of southern comfort foods to attract unsavories. Oh, and everything is made to order and the chef won't allow you to change the menu. If you so much as alter a condiment we have to charge you 2 bucks and you will wait, without apology, and we will autograt you, we will piss off you and take your money.

It is like a safe haven for servers. Management hates the customer in the same way we do-Management understands the glue trap that we step in everytime we put on our aprons, dousing us with hot water before we chew off our legs to escape.

Last Saturday, Rascal Flats, poisoned downtown Memphis with their music and their fans. People who knew nothing about dining, but recognized catfish and informal decor,pushed through our doors and ruined our evening.

I told them,at the front end,it would be 45 minutes to an hour til they got food. I told them it wasn't grammy's tomatoes and spoonbread. They didn't listen. The mix of inbreeding and years of being mislead into believing the customer is always right -led them into that good night and into my own personal hell.

Some highlights:

Angry lesbian rednecks yelling at me, and me responding, quite tactfully with

" I thought you ladies would know something about EATING OUT, it always better when it takes time."

A Polish waitress, with her thick accent, telling a table that was insulting her:

"Relax, we are not saving lives here, we serve food. We didn't forget to recharge your defibrillator, we don't leave you dying on floor with heart-attack, we just make you wait for sandwich."

The chef, who is also owner,throwing tickets at tables who were in his face.

A husband standing in between his wife and I so she wouldn't hit me. I said nothing to her-but having to wait for her alligator roulade was so traumatic to her I wondered,quietly, what would happen if something serious were to occur in her life, like me stabbing her in the eye with a steak knife.

That said,I walked out of work, quite a bit richer, and into another bar, where I danced to hip hop music, laughed with other servers, and did shooters with names that rhymed.

The beautiful ,the damned and another night here in Memphis

2006-10-27T08:17:00.000-07:00

Restaurants are worlds unto themselves...certain codes apply secretly and universally...we are kinda like the Masons but with wine tools and gross amounts of undeclared income...

That said-when you, a new hire, walk into a restaurant, even if you are a rookie-you should display a certain amount common sense and seem knowlegeable overall-or the senior staff will smell blood and will haze you.

They will send you to other restaurants looking for non-existant products like 'meat glue', cucumber paste, buckets of steam etc.

You may find yourself carrying bags of bricks, buckets of colored water, or endlessly draining the coffee machine-

and when you head into another restaurant looking for a refill of bar neon or packets of dehydrated water-no one will let you in on the joke-they will pass you off to another restaurant until you return back to your shop-out of breath and empty handed-where everyone will laugh at you.

We are a surly band of rogues...but it is great fun on a good day and on a bad day worse than working a deep fryer in the nude.

2006-10-19T16:54:00.000-07:00

I can't make this stuff up

Right now I am passing through a dark period and have become relatively apathetic. So when I get this email today,I don't think much of it

"are you really a mistress, if so then i thought if you were interested maybe we could send sex emails to eachother. If not, then do you mind if i say what i want to you then anyway."

and that apathy mixed with the stink of a rainy day led me to this reply-

"slaves only speak when spoken to"

Now this kid, missing the biting wit writes back and says

"Will you give me the permission to touch myself to t thought of licking your asshole? Can I also have your IM address so that i can actually speak with you?

At this point I am creeped out,but kinda amused. I am dismissive and just say

"Do what you gotta do"

Unfortunately he does

"Mistress I have done it. I touched myself to the thought of you sitting on my face and making me stick my tongue up your asshole.
I am nothing, and even though you asshole is worth more than my life, thank you for allowing scum like me to associate with it.
Mistress please allow me to IM you. I want to be able to have you tell me what to do on the spot. I want you to be able to type me a command and I follow it like the asslicking, human toilet that I am."

That my friends, is where the line is crossed. I tell him to "Get a grip" and end contact.

I just don't get it.Tidy?

2006-10-15T07:49:00.000-07:00

The Money Shot

So there is this bartender/manwhore who works at a bar next to mine

I have heard, that when it comes to women, he still maintains a thin layer of the primordial slime that separates man from beast (or man from astroman)

In the real world, the one determined by a delicate balance of physics and logic, where gravity tugs at the moon and levity tugs at the corners of my mouth-everything about this guy is a red flag

he reeks of cheap beer and sour grapes. He is mostly likely damaged goods and possibly a vessel of herpes and a vassal of misogyny

Yet, I wanna shoot jaeger and have a pillow fight with this fella

I am hopeless.

2006-10-09T21:03:00.000-07:00

Laundry List
--------------------

I saw The Hives (rockers) walking the streets of Memphis.

I saw downtown Memphis burn to the ground.

Everytime I see the boy, I giggle like a school girl.

I have been working like a dog and trying to spend time with my dogs.

Mr. Gita treats me poorly but then claims he needs me.

I just want to save money and get to Italy.

I have been riding my bike atleast 12 miles a week.

I sleep on a blanket on a hardwood floor.

I get cold.

Yet somehow I am happier than I have been in a long while.

my roommate has a huge penis. I mean HUGE.

my dreams have been of longing.

I can't even say his name without smiling...but I don't know if he knows that.

hmmmmm...

2006-10-09T02:35:00.000-07:00

I have a crush on a boy.
hehhheeehheheheheee.

2006-10-02T15:25:00.000-07:00

well, I was trying the food at my new job and I went into anaphylactic shock. I looked like Eric Stolz in "Mask". That was fun.

I have never had a severe reaction to anything.....It was a bit scary...my taxi driver wanted to take me directly to the hospital but I was too poor-so I had him drop me at home and I took a handful of antihistimines before my throat closed.

good times

2006-09-18T12:47:00.000-07:00

It is the middle of the day and I imagine you are deep into the day...beer in hand, eyes fixed on the computer-glazed.

When we first got together I had friends, I was
independent, I was happy...the longer we stayed
together, the more isolated I became...I realized
since I moved out, that I began to live your life, and
I am not you, I need more in my life. I also
realized,with sadness,how disconnected you are-from
your feelings, etc...

booze and drugs are your fortress, and you are
barricaded inside.

blow makes you the center of the world, and booze
makes you numb-there is no way that you can love and
feel and be a part of a relationship with your
lifestyle...

I kept the appartment as a way to maintain a lifeline
to the outside world. You asked me to come home and be
a family. But you were never family to me.

You were cold. You were numb.

I was a burden on your time and your finances. You lost your attraction to me...you stopped looking at me, touching me....

I was your family

I loved you without judgement.

you judged me.you made excuses-I never was enough or did enough...you weren't even there.

I never asked you to quit being a rockstar...just to cut down so we could have a normal life.I watched the person I loved die each day...the drugs made you distant and the lack of sleep-short fused. I tried to make sense of it, smile through it-but it hurt and I became angry and I lashed out. For that, I am sorry.

When we were downtown even the party was still a party-now it has become an illness and ultimately led to our demise.Isolation and addiction make uncomfortable bed fellows.

There is no place for me anymore...you have you work and your booze, and long nights in front of the computer. The person who I have loved has not only thrown me away, our family but himself as well.

Mike is Sober. Trey is trying to slow down and save his marriage...you,the consumate bachlor,are still on a mission with nothing to save, throwing yourself into the fire.

but you are no longer living to the fullest... you are turning 40,you have pushed me away,you have chosen to live without life.

Do you think you love someone else more? That they will build a life with you and be able to watch you, who they care for, break down the life they are trying to build? Do you just want to go it alone?

why do you put up walls? what are you scared of? Losing someone who you love? you lose touch with loved ones everytime you crawl into yourself and lock the door..

You know where to find me-

2006-09-10T09:51:00.000-07:00

Hey,

I am moving today. I am moving in with Johnny Knox because I can't deal with that limp dick asshole coke head alcoholic fuck hole no fucking fuckity fuck.

free at last!!!

I cut off my phone and will have sporatic internet access...just making money for my trip, and hopefully some meaningless sex...

Tidy? you listening? (:

2006-08-20T16:34:00.000-07:00

Dialetto Calabrese=Antidote to Sadness?

I have had a long sad week...Terry has been gone (which is generally a good thing) but between the heat and my inability to drive I have had almost no human contact.

It has been me,the puppies,and myspace-which is all very depressing. The dogs have grown bored of me.At first I ran thru the sprinlers and danced with the pups-now they just loo at me like "enough is enough give me a milk bone"

I was feeling all mopey and going to channel my inner Ringwald (as in molly ringwald) and write about my intense feelings of isolation etc...then Enzo called.

He made me laugh, totally cheered me up. He talked about his week at Tropea, about hiding from a chubby ten year old boy from Torino, about Napulitani eating roasted meat and letting their children run naked on the beach-good times. Enzo is probably one of the most quietly witty people I know...(Seymore may have him beat)...he just cracks me up.

He turns 30 this year and I will be in Italy for it. Our birthdays are 10 days apart, and we celebrate them togther when we can. He pointed out that we first spent our birthdays together when I was turning 22,and he 23. He said not much has changed, we are still close, he still puts up with my shit I just don't put out anymore. Poor kid.

He makes me laugh at myself. I wish I could maintain the same kind of intimacy with someone I am sleeping with.

This should be an interesting trip.

2006-08-19T11:22:00.000-07:00

I have been having terrible nightmares.

there have been similar themes...travel,isolation,homelessness,anger,fear of being attacked...oh,and losing my teeth. Last night I dreamt I was lost in what I thought was Italy, but everyone kept calling the neighborhood "east'n" and then I realized I was outside of London. It was late,I had no where to sleep. A man tried to attack me, then my back teeth feel out, and I was just staring at them in my hand.Then I woke up.

part of this comes from actual,tangible fear. I have been alone at the house while Terry is in Colorado-and as many of you know-I had a man break into my bedroom when I was 11-and lately there have been home invasions in Memphis.So my old fears have married a very real,but new one...as much as I like to sleep alone,mama is scared.

Plus,I have anxiety about the future, about returning to Italy and auditioning men for my harem (;,about finding my way...

I don't know. I just wake up tired.

2006-08-16T02:03:00.000-07:00

London
Stratford-on-Avon
Canterbury
Dover
La Havre
Calais
St.Malo
Tour
Loire Valley
Versailles
Paris
Nice
Geneva
Lucern
Figuras
Barcelona
Sevilla
Lisbon
Amsterdamn
Other Dutch Towns
Munich
Freising
Prague
Budapest
Vienna
Milan
Venice
Modena
Padua
Cinque Terre
Pisa
Florence
Siena
Montecatini
Montepulciano
Bologna
Modena
Pienza
Firenze
San Gimingiano
Cortona
Lecce
Roma
Napoli
Paestum
Pompeii
Amalfi
Cilento
Sorrento
La Guardia Piemontese
Taranto
Bari
Crucoli
Rossarno
Albero Bello
Matera
Alta Mura
Potenza
Cosenza
Catanzanaro
Tropea
Taoromina
San Torini
Crete
Athens
Mexico
Guatemala
California
New York
Tennessee
Missouri
Mississippi
Illinois
Washington,DC and State
Virginia
Mass.
Conn.
Ohio
Oregon
Idaho
Colorado
Nevada
ETC,ETC Ad Nauseum...

when will it be enough?

2006-08-09T22:38:00.000-07:00

Back in Memphis.

Terry is in the bathroom as I write this, doing lines and calling his drug dealer.

nothing has changed.

When I was in SF I avoided people who partied-so as to keep my nose clean-I have been here three days and three days it has been since my nose was clean.

I am leaving tomorrow to go stay with my friend Mike-who has a year sober-and If I drink/party I can't stay with him.

Terry makes me sad.

I'll miss my puppies.

2006-08-05T16:10:00.000-07:00

Summer Soundtrack:

Neutral Milk Hotel-Oh Comely!

Archie Bronson Outfit-Kink

Federico Aubele-Ante Tus Ojos

Grandaddy-Nebraska

The Replacements-Waitress in The Sky

Robert Wyatt-Sea Song

Jeff Magnum-Gardenhead

White Stripes-Jolene

Yeah Yeah Yeahs-Miles Away

Mott the Hoople-All the Way to Memphis

Set Fire To Flames-Signs Reign Rebuilder (the whole album)

Lucio Battisti-Amarsi un po

Ravel-Onedine

Ik Ben-Cezanne...

Appleyard College-Twice or Our Abandon/On Walden

Fabrizio de Andre-Via Del Campo

Richard Hell and The Voidoids-Love Comes in Spurts

The Cramps-T.V. Set

Pearl Jam- Severed Hand

Mark Isham-Sirend

Peaches-Fuck the Pain Away

Anything by Home

-------------------------------------------------------------------

I really didn't socialize much this summer-kept to myself, loved the city, listened to music, sorted out my head...

My mother and I had a big dinner and mapped out the next 8 months or so..then laughed at lot which is one of. the perks of having a mom who is a psycologist I guess. She agrees I should go to Italy and COMPLETE my TEFL course-which means not fighting with the trainers and getting kicked out of the program 3 days before its completion-build my resume with something that doesn't including flipping bottles or dropping plates.

I am so excited. I will go to Italy, auditon guys for my harem,further my education and eat mozzerella.

2006-07-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr.Gita,

You never had to promise you would help me out
financially while I was in school.

You seemed so sweet, like you were sincerely open and
loving,and that you truly wanted me to focus on school
and could bear the financial burden-because it would
make both happier in the long run.

Unfortunately that isn't what happened. What happened
was you decided that I was just a leech, and you
weren't going to help me out-you were going to spend
that money as you saw fit.

In the three months I was unemployed before coming out
here I was hit with 4,000 dollars in fees.These were
bills you said you were paying.

So now I have to drop out of school and pay not only
the debt that I earned fair and square-but the debt I
accrued while unknowingly defaulting on my bills.

The hurt,sadness,and anger that I feel is more than I
can put into words.

It really comes down to you choosing drugs and booze
over our relationship. That is where any of your
disposable income was going.

I have sacrificed having any real emotional connection
to anyone for about a year-I have sacrificed any kind
of sexual relationship for just as long. I got so
depressed I couldn't even get out of bed until I came
here.

I wanted to save this relationship.

And the worst part is you have blamed me and I let
you. I took it all in under my skin and felt bad about
me

I kept thinking if I looked better or made more money
you would treat me right.

I never should have sunk so deep into sadness that I
even thought that way.

I stuck around and got all fucked up and let the
sickness take over.

Not anymore.

I don't know what the solution is,but I would say an
apology is in order. I don't really expect one.

I know what my mistakes are-but just because I may
have been wrong-doesn't make you in the right. So
don't twist this.
-mg

________________________________________

2006-07-27T21:11:00.000-07:00

so I have been communicating with this guy in Italy. Mostly on MSN.

we write in Italian and in English-which I find interesting.

what is interesting is not the mix but when we each choose to use each language.

I am pretty sure he uses english when he doesn't want anyone in the house to know what he is saying. I use Italian to be closer to him.

I really should study linguistics, the psychology of language. I love it.

2006-07-26T15:55:00.000-07:00

Back to Memphis...

not looking forward to it...but If return to Memphis I can make the money I need to do what I want.

see you on august 10th

2006-07-25T08:23:00.000-07:00

Restriction...

So as many as of you know-I have an unhealthy relationship with food.

Last time I reached the weight I am now, I began to restrict food and lost 60 lbs or about 30 chili.

It took me about a year to get back to to a more normal weight, and up until the last year or so, I kept about half of it off.

But I tried to build a more positive outlook and feed myself-even if it meant a little more cushion for the pushing...

well, I think I am done with that...

yesterday I caught myself restricting....

part of it is stress,part of it is about control...

things have been so unstable restriction gives me a way to focus. It is about eating a piece of bread and not eating a whole sandwich.I have the power to make that decision-versus being powerless in other areas. like everywhere else.seriously.

When I was at my worst I would carry fig bars with me, so when my blood sugar crashed I could eat the bars and get somewhere before I passed out.

On a average day I would eat
1 bagel with tofu
1 fig bar or apple
1 caffe latte
1 gelato

If I ate more than that I would go to the gym.

Then I went to Italy in 99-2000 and rediscovered food.

and once I went to Calabria-it was really over. Over Pasquedd I probably put on 10 lbs. When I got back to Firenze people kept saying "ti trovi bene in Italia" which is a polite Italian way of saying "girl you have been doing some eating". Capretto, fegato di maiale al forno,ricotta affumicata,mozzerella di bufala...latte di capra, fresca,riscaldata con miele e canella...mmmmmm....vino di casa....funghi porcini impanati....mmmmmmmmmmm....You can't be a lover of food and restrict in Italy...it is impossible...it would be like an alcoholic renting a room in a pub.Or Tidy moving next to a so-co factory (:

I am not writing this as some weird cry for help or anything. I know it is silly. I also think starving yourself on purpose is some twisted rich white girl problem. Like you have money-you can have all the food you want-but you starve to feel pretty. When there are people who starve without choice. It is selfish.

That said-even when I worked out everyday, didn't drink, and ate as healthy as a person could eat without going apeshit-I was always pressured to lose weight. I have always been curvier than my female counterparts-all the women in my family are.Russian women and thick.So basically I am cursed-plus I am getting on in years.

I don't know...it is just a constant source of frustration. blah.until then-some scenic shots of italy

2006-07-24T13:49:00.000-07:00

Seaweed tangled in our home from home
Reminds me of your rocky bottom
Please don't wait for the paperweight
Err on the good side
Touch us when we collapse
Into the water we'll go head over heel
We'll not grow fat inside
The mammary gland
Into the water we'll go
Head over heel
A head behind me
Buried deep in the sand

by Robert Wyatt

I guess I just missed the Robert Wyatt class in school. This weekend I have been downloading his solo and collaborative works....he was before his time. I want to love someone the way he lovs Alifib.

2006-07-22T20:21:00.000-07:00

My head is already in europe....I can feel it coming on...Picture me walking through "La Marais"...I will stay in Rue Rivoli...I will go to the North African cafe and drink star anise tea, eat brick...Quand c'est nuit, je voudrais bere vin chaud et faire un promenade dans le rue du Paris...Man I gotta jump ship kids...until then a little George Brassens

George Brassens...

Chanson Pour L'auvergnat

Elle est à toi cette chanson
Toi l'Auvergnat qui, sans façon,
M'a donné quatre bouts de bois
Quand dans ma vie il faisait froid.

Toi qui m'a donné du feu quand
Les croquantes et les croquants
Tous les gens bien intentionnés
M'avaient fermés la porte au nez.

Ce n'était rien qu'un feu de bois
Mais il m'avait chauffé le corps
Et dans mon âme, il brûle encore
À la manière d'un feu de joie...

Toi, l'Auvergnat quand tu mourras
Quand le croc-mort t'emportera
Qu'il te conduise à travers ciel
Au père éternel.

Elle est à toi cette chanson
Toi l'hôtesse qui, sans façon,
M'a donné quatre bouts de pain
Quand dans ma vie il faisait faim.

Toi qui m'ouvrit ta huche quand
Les croquantes et les croquants
Tous les gens bien intentionnés
S'amusaient à me voir jeuner.

Ce n'était rien qu'un peu de pain
Mais il m'avait chauffé le corps
Et dans mon âme, il brûle encore
À la manière d'un grand festin...

Toi, l'hôtesse quand tu mourras
Quand le croc-mort t'emportera
Qu'il te conduise à travers ciel
Au père éternel.

Elle est à toi cette chanson
Toi l'étranger qui, sans façon,
D'un air malheureux m'a sourit
Lorsque les gendarmes m'ont pris.

Toi qui n'a pas applaudi quand
Les croquantes et les croquants
Tous les gens bien intentionnés
Riaient de me voir rammené.

Ce n'était rien qu'un peu de miel
Mais il m'avait chauffé le corps
Et dans mon âme, il brûle encore
À la manière d'un grand soleil...

Toi, l'étranger quand tu mourras
Quand le croc-mort t'emportera
Qu'il te conduise à travers ciel
Au père éternel.

______________________________

2006-07-22T20:14:00.000-07:00

Fabrizio de Andre...get out your translation widgets kids

The Testament of Tito

Non avrai altro Dio all'infuori di me spesso mi hai fatto pensare;
genti diverse venute dall'est dicevano che in fondo era uguale:
credevano ad un altro diverso da te, non mi hanno fatto del male,
credevano ad un altro diverso da te, non mi hanno fatto del male.
Non nominare il nome di Dio, non nominarlo invano.
Con un coltello piantato nel fianco gridai la mia pena ed il suo nome:
ma forse era stanco, forse troppo occupato, non ascolto il mio dolore;
ma forse era stanco, forse troppo lontano, davvero lo nominai invano.
Onora il padre ed onora la madre, e onora anche il loro bastone:
bacia la mano che ruppe il tuo naso perche' le chiedevi un boccone.
Quando a mio padre si fermo' il cuore, non ho provato dolore,
quando a mio padre si fermo' il cuore, non ho provato dolore.
Ricorda di santificare le feste, facile per noi ladroni,
entrare nei templi che rigurgitan salmi di schiavi e dei loro padroni,
senza finire legati agli altari sgozzati come animali,
senza finire legati agli altari sgozzati come animali.
Il quinto dice "non devi rubare", e forse io l'ho rispettato
vuotando in silenzio le tasche gia' gonfie di quelli che avevan rubato:
ma io senza legge rubai in nome mio, quegli altri nel nome di Dio,
ma io senza legge rubai in nome mio, quegli altri nel nome di Dio.
Non commettere atti che non siano puri, cioe' non disperdere il seme...
Feconda una donna ogni volta che l'ami cosi' sarai uomo di fede.
Poi la voglia svanisce ed il figlio rimane e tanti ne uccide la fame.
Io forse ho confuso il piacere e l'amore ma non ho creato dolore.
Il settimo dice "non ammazzare se del cielo vuoi essere degno",
guardatela oggi questa legge di Dio tre volte inchiodata nel legno.
Guardate la fine di quel Nazzareno, un ladro non muore di meno!
Guardate la fine di quel Nazzareno, un ladro non muore di meno!
Non dire falsa testimonianza ed aiutali ad uccidere un uomo...
Lo sanno a memoria il diritto Divino, ma scordano sempre il perdono.
Ho spergiurato su Dio e sul mio onore e no non ne provo dolore,
ho spergiurato su Dio e sul mio nome e no non ne provo dolore.
Non desiderare la roba degli altri, non desiderarne la sposa...
Ditelo a quelli, chiedetelo ai pochi che hanno una donna e qualcosa...
Nei letti degli altri gia' caldi d'amore non ho provato dolore.
L'invidia di ieri non e' gia' finita, sta' sera v'invidio la vita.
Ma adesso che viene la sera ed il buio, mi toglie il dolore dagli occhi.
E scivola il sole al di la' delle dune a violentare altre notti:
io nel vedere quest'uomo che muore, madre io provo dolore;
nella pieta' che non cede al rancore, madre ho imparato l'amore.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Via del Campo

Via del Campo c’è una graziosa
gli occhi grandi color di foglia
tutta notte sta sulla soglia
vende a tutti la stessa rosa.

Via del Campo c’è una bambina
con le labbra color rugiada
gli occhi grigi come la strada
nascon fiori dove cammina.

Via del Campo c’è una puttana
gli occhi grandi color di foglia
se di amarla ti vien la voglia
basta prenderla per la mano
e ti sembra di andar lontano
lei ti guarda con un sorriso
non credevi che il paradiso
fosse solo lì al primo piano.

Via del Campo ci va un illuso
a pregarla di maritare
a vederla salir le scale
fino a quando il balcone è chiuso.
Ama e ridi se amor risponde
pingi forte se non ti sente
dai diamanti non nasce niente
dal letame nascono i fior...
dai diamanti non nasce niente
dal letame nascono i fior...

-----------------------------------------

2006-07-22T18:21:00.000-07:00

Since my return to California, I have been getting back to basics...the things that I enjoy most, things that make me happy-without being self-destructive (because as many of you know, if there is anything you can set your watch to-is me engaging in some risky behaviour...cocaine and calabrian men being my biggest vices-followed closely by...well actually that is pretty much it...maybe wine and shoes)

but this summer, I dedicate to music. To rediscovering music I have forgotten,and to discovering new music...

but through all of this downloading...I have been sort of reliving the past. It is trite, but I am totally overwhelmed by emotions and memories when I hear certain songs, certain bands...

The first time I heard "Bocca di Rosa" by Fabrizio de Andre, I was in Naples with a guy I met in Barcelona. My mother had come to visit me in Italy and we went to Naples so I could see Naples ( a difficult city for a tourist) with real neapolitans. I sent mom to bed, and went out for a night of wine and pizza with the Napulitan'. We met up with his friends, and the took me up to a spot overlooking the city, and sang along to De Andre-but also, traditional Neapolitan music. The stars, the bay of naples, the guys...what an evening. And for people that think all Neapolitans are rude or barbaric-nobody laid a hand on me-they were very sweet, also to my mom.Gaetano Luciano-where are you?

The Sonic Youth is all Jon Sigmon, acid, Bessie.
The songs Becuz,Little Trouble Girl and Goo remind me of jenni (his girlfriend) at the time)

The first time I ever heard "Via del Campo" I was naked and eating sopressata/cacciacavallo with Giovanni Corigliano. We vwere in my apartment in Borgo dei Greci...and lived by candlelight.

I could go on...

Neutral Milk Hotel...summer of 98. period.

The Cramps...bartending.

Lou Reed, Battisti, Renato Carusone=Enzo.

Pino Daniele reminds me of what good can come out of Naples...Gigi D'Alessio the WORST.

Ma...

2006-07-22T17:47:00.000-07:00

yummy. it is raffaella's receipe.

2006-07-19T23:52:00.000-07:00

you were my sister and I loved you.

a part of you died and I loved you.

fuck you for making this about me.

I know I am a junkie

how about you?

I am an addict-no shock there.

I am aware of that. That is why I am spending the summer in SF and that is why I set up a "clean living" housing situation in memphis when I get back.

that is why I started managing over bartending-to make less money-so as not to do as much blow.

that is why I eventually quit my job.

so fuck you, for turning the mirror on me.

I have looked in the mirror.

have you?

2006-07-19T16:26:00.000-07:00

So I haven't been feeling very good about my fat ass, so I have been taking tons of pics trying to find things I like about me, crafting my own brand of pretty...

2006-07-19T16:17:00.001-07:00

daydreams...

Being that my life is more disasterous than usual, I have been trying to nail down what my ideal situation would be...I think I have gotten pretty close to figuring it out.

I would have a job that I was proud of, that made me feel like I was affecting positive change-whether through teaching, social work etc.

My partner would be involved with art or activism in a practical way. They would be a chef, or work for a non profit etc. Or he would have a job that would allow him time for his art, but still get out of bed in the morning.

We would live in California, New York, or in Europe. (Ideally).

There would always be music in the house.

We would have friends and lives outside our relationship that enhanced, not threatened our bond.

We would have happy children that grew up feeling loved by us, and protected by the love they saw that we shared.

I would finally calm down. I would stop being angry or sad for decisions I had made. I would finally see that all of the negativity I had felt or inflicted lead to something, through the process of living and learning.

Now if I can just put my head together right-it may happen someday

2006-07-19T16:17:00.000-07:00

2006-07-19T11:05:00.000-07:00

So I recently got hired at a 24hr diner in a hip neighbourhood. My shift starts at 10pm and runs until 6 or 7 am. I thought this would be positive and keep me out of trouble. Let's just say the change of hours has left me jetlagged and I am going to decline the job.

The first night there was a cute little gay boy training me.Or so I thought.When I asked him why he was quitting he said "to have my hysterectemoy".

run that over your noggin'

plus the rest of the freaks...and a guy who wanted to pop out his glass eye for a discount to up his punk rock cred.

I am not in San Francisco for long enough to not to enjoy it. Anzi, I am not on the planet long enough not to see the sun for days on end.It is unhealthy.

I need to go to Memphis to work out my school schedule.

Mr. Gita wants me to come back as well. At first I thought about dating him,having my own place-but I am seeing signs that nothing has changed. I will not go back to him even on a partime basis-if things are how they were.

ugggghhhh

2006-07-18T18:28:00.000-07:00

If you like music...especially hard to find or experimental stuff go here

www.screwmusicforever.com

and

http://www.myspace.com/mondcanvas

Piano music just breaks my heart everytime...

2006-07-18T18:20:00.000-07:00

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fuzzy pic from a fuzzy night of whiskey and rock and roll in Oaktown

2006-07-15T18:36:00.000-07:00

I was online searching for music, when a band popped up that I hadn't thought about in years-
"The Chromosomes". I was living in Italy a few years ago and made friends with a man who should be sainted, Fabrizio Berti. He worked for a radio station,toured with a blues band, and went to war torn former communist countries to bring music and teach music to kids who have witnessed the horror of war-as a way for them to express and heal.

anyways I sat in on some of his shows for "controradio" and would go see his band play. Now I'm not sure if he was trying to play matchmaker or what, but there was this guy who was in the studio one day, and who promoted punk shows in Toscana. Fabri sent me off with this guy, and because he was a friend of Fabrizios, I trusted him.

Well, I am working this punk show, and I start getting an odd vibe from the promoter. So I do as I always do when I feel like I am about to have to fight for my vagina-I start stealing all their whiskey and fanta.

we pack up and leave the show. and mr.punk promo takes me to a secluded parking lot between 4 buildings. which was bad-but then 4 of this guys friends come out of the shadows to meet the car. I am running every escape plan possible in my mind, and thinking of the whiskey bottle and cans of fanta.There is a sean penn movie from the 80s, where he puts cans in pillow case and fights his way around a prison.

the guys come to the car and start talking to me directly and I pretend I don't speak Italian. which was smart, because his idiot friends believed me, and before dumb promo guy could correct them. they asked him about his plan for me, and I believe they used the word "pecora" which is not good in a sexual context.

at this point the guy knows he has been had. I start screaming at him to drive-to get me the FUCK out of Pistoia...at this point I was more angry than scared, and coming unglued. as we make the drive back to Firenze, things were awkaward to say the least. He tries to apologize for his friends, etc. see what this guy didn't count on is the fact I wasn't a fresh faced "straniera", I had been involved with Enzo for over a year, and was frequenting another Italian during that time.

So he starts going into the whole "Ciao Bella" rountine. Which was ridiculous. Then tells me how if we have casual sex, it will be "a cultural experience"...ummmm, NO. I then read him the riot act, saying that I had been with one Italian for love, one for sport-and they were both on their worst day, better than him on his best day.

I mean I had sex with them,right?

Plus, assuming I am a clueless american girl who he can wow-bad move. I told him he was good-looking but he blew it.

Then I went up to my appartment in Borgo dei Greci and drank his whiskey. Then gave Enzo his Fanta.

ahhh, they joys of being a straniera.

2006-07-14T17:17:00.000-07:00

Ce n'est pas une femme.

2006-07-14T17:13:00.000-07:00

I think I look like I am about to go down on someone here.

I wish.

right now it seems like "scendere" is very "vietato

2006-07-14T17:12:00.000-07:00

This is pretty much indicative of my life in general

2006-07-13T20:08:00.000-07:00

So Mr. Ik Bent called me and left a message.

for those of you whose of you who know who he is-he was a very close friend, who I loved very much-with who I had a miscommunication prior to his nashville wedding.

I miss him. it was 8 years ago this summer, that we met here in San Francisco. and since I am looking at my life and trying to figure out how I fucked it up-he comes to mind.

Plus I associate him closely with music, which I have been gorging on.

I want to get happy.

I want to go be in Calabria with Raffaella.

2006-07-13T19:49:00.000-07:00

So I think I am bitter. (un po' acida dicimm')

I was chatting online with this kid who has a band in Italy. I don't even know the guy and I was getting mad at him.

I have been ogling hot men and trying to motivate myself to feel something...and though smoking pot makes me horny-there aren't those feelings organically.

I left what was my home to couch surf and come up with a plan. and for the first time I have thought about just going back to Mr. Gita because I am tired and I am sick of the fight.

I have got some of the info I need to get a real teaching credential for Italy.

or continue on here in san francisco or memphis or wherever in some aggressive career.

I will be alone.

I can't even set up a vacation fling without making mistakes. because I can't just have a fling. I am too egotistical. I need to feel important, there needs to be more than lust-or I could just practice onanism.

2006-07-12T06:35:00.000-07:00

Troppo fumo? si.

Zombie Movie?si.

Un bel lavoro e un futuro?no.

Cosi e la vita.

2006-07-12T06:23:00.000-07:00

amarcord....

In 2001-2002 I was smoking tons of hash and having tons of sex with a guy from Rocca di Netto. My favorite memory is a day in winter-where it snowed in Florence. We smoked hash and had sex, watching the snow.Then I met up with Raffaella and we went to some huge shopping center outside of Florence, and I just remember being so high and singing Sonic Youth at the top of my lungs while she drove.

2006-07-12T06:17:00.000-07:00

Fuck Me...

well, momma has some serious decisions to make.

what to do,what to do.

so, for the last 5 years I have wrestled with the same two things

1.Committ to an agressive career in America

2.Get my TEFL credential,not certificate, but credential-and live in Italy.

It has been almost 5 years to the day, since I was told that I would not be working with the Union.Since then,I have struggled to become something else. I have made excuses, I have travelled. I have had deviant sex with a guy from Crotone. Now I am 28, scared, and needing answers.

the credential would allow me to teach in america-or abroad. it would allow me the freedom of being in Italy until I felt like returning to america-if I felt like returning. My time in europe would only bolster my Curriculum Vitae.

If I nail down a salting campaign or continue with my studies in criminal justice-I will have the career I want-but will have to give up Italy, or resign it to 2 weeks a year if I am lucky/

The last few years I go back and forth between here and Italy and I look for answers.

I have always been dragged back here by the people. but now the people I missed are gone to me anyway.

I am coming to terms with the fact that I might have had a bit of drug problem up until I came out here. Not to say that D and I didn't get high and watch zombie movies today-but in general-I am living better.

I want to find a child like old soul.

I want my raffaella close.

I want to do something for my country-no matter how small.

I need advice. I need to be organized.

I need sex.

help.

2006-07-11T13:14:00.000-07:00

Anyone reading this.stop.go to www.tidylies.blogspot.com.

Smart,Funny, and really quite fuckable all around.

2006-07-11T13:08:00.000-07:00

Americans are ignorant,pompous, fools....

Okay...so with this last world cup, america has found a new project-taking a sport that is popular in every other place on the planet-and tailoring it to fit our fat,ignorant,imperialist needs.

We have a war going on, our economy is in ruins,if things don't change course-within my lifetime, we will either become a province of china or a non-exisistant crater when all of our enemies get together to nuke us-

Yet when I turn on the news or open the paper-there are talking heads discussing how soccer needs a little "je ne sais quoi" to be relevant to us. Even though american viewership of the world cup rose 180% in just four years.

And as far as what will make soccer more relevant-there are the quick fixes

1.Cheerleaders-boobs sell.period
2.Helmets-americans like metal incorporated into their sports-look at nascar.
3.Free stuff
4.Hot dogs

But in all honesty-it is simply a matter of time.People love the sports they love because, strategy aside-nostalgia. You say "baseball" and americans automatically have images of sunday afternoons with grandpa and apple pie. But baseball is just a group a guys running in a circle-some hit stuff, others catch the ball-but seriously-not much to it.

Nascar is the fasting growing sport in america right now-and it is cars driving in one direction-really fast. COME ON!!!

Oh, and soccer,because it can end in a tie-or as the New York Times said with what is essentially "a flip of a coin"-is far to cerebral and hardly flashy enough for american tastes.

Sports originated as a reflection of the society or time that bore them-a sort of passion play...life isn't clear cut, it doesn't always end in confetti and cereal boxes.I think that a stalemate can be decided by something as arbitrary as a penalty kick or coin flip-is more real and relevant-than shoulder pads-half times shows-and corporate campaigns.

and passing gas is more relevant than,say,NASCAR.

plus soccer boys glisten.they glisten.

2006-07-11T02:01:00.000-07:00

fucking ridiculous hotness...

2006-07-11T01:53:00.000-07:00

2006-07-11T01:43:00.000-07:00

picture pages,picture pages...

2006-07-11T01:41:00.000-07:00

Seymore's cat is sassy. This cat doesn't like me. I mean, I am scared of the furball. I documented all of this, for legal reasons

2006-07-11T01:39:00.000-07:00

I was killing time and decided to take dramatic pics with my picture phone...I am trying to emote here.

2006-07-11T01:29:00.000-07:00

I love Northern California.

2006-07-11T01:27:00.000-07:00

2006-07-10T18:26:00.000-07:00

"Your Life isn't Like Other Peoples'"

Spanky has said that too me many a time, and I have rifuted it. I mean we are all individuals and we are all the same. That's humanity. whatever. But right now...my life is a little strange. I am sharing a bed with a guy I am not having sex with-which seems to be a common theme in my life-but in this instance it is different. I am in San Francisco, yet still attracting Calabrians like flies. Today I stopped into a Caffe in the Marina-a decidely un-Italian quarter. Not 30 seconds later, in walks a Calabrian guy and his hot friend, who was poca fidabile. We chatted for awhile and he made fun of my accent.

I guess my point is that things are so up in the air right now. I am just waiting for them to fall into place.

I am focusing on getting my body healthy. I am looking to put my finances in order so I can go to Italy for the Holidays.

I miss Raffaella. I feel better when she is close.

And the biggest Tragedy of all time is my relationship with Enzo. Here is this good-hearted, smart, funny guy-and we love each other to death-but can't be together. I have never laughed with anyone like I laugh with him. unfortunately the flip side of that is we fought just as hard.We talk all the time, but it just will never be.

I am destined to either never marry or marry an Italian.

I can't win.

2006-07-08T02:25:00.000-07:00

he is so fucking hot. I want to do dirty dirty filthy things to him.

2006-07-07T16:11:00.000-07:00

so I received this email from a calabrian musician I met online of all things...he emailed me to add his band-and I saw where they were from and having been there we struck up an odd communication-then he writes.

"I was thinking about you tonight.
something is sad in something you say. Or, you say something sad even when you're not. your eyes talk to me from the little picture here and everything is filtered by your look. Everything I read. Tutto diventa di un colore simile alla porcellana.
Was thinking about the poem you sent me last night. It had the power to thrill me. mi hai fatto quasi rabbrividire, ed eccitato al momento stesso.

penso a qualcosa di simile ad un erotismo cosmico.

i'm COMPLETELY drunk."

hmmm-I don't know what I think.

2006-07-02T16:10:00.000-07:00

So my friends and I put on a little birthday party for a mutual friend. As much as I love her, I have been avoiding her, because I can't be around cocaine and she bathes in it. the party was moved to where I was staying as a way to thwart my avoidance of her.

She shows up, out of her skin.

Nobody ate.

I was willing to overdraw my account for the birthday of my friend.

My friend is deeply buried in the person who came to the party.

and I ended up doing just as I thought, because I am not strong willed enough to say no. that's why I avoid situations where I can say yes.

I am afraid she will die. yet, I don't think I can help her.

I want to lock her up away from all of her "friends". Get her intense therepy.

I am not ready to say goodbye.

2006-07-01T20:08:00.000-07:00

Hey Killer,

I wish you could be here...This city never fails to take my breath away, and I have been to a fair amount of cities in my day...I took a long walk , and I was so amazed by the transitions between neighborhoods...Hip night spots fell away and I was in the ghetto, and the ghetto melts into Japan town, which ends and becomes Pacific Heights-one of the more wealthy areas in a city full of wealthy areas.At liquor stores in Japan town you can find sake and asian savouries alongside pink champagne and moon pies.

This city makes me excited to be young. it is mystical with oceans and fog. It reminds me of who I was at 18 and excited for who I will be at 80.I want to be in love with another person like I am with this city. After 2 weeks of crying and sadness-I wake up each day and hit the streets, moving through neighborhoods, watching people in everyday motion...feeling so happy just to be.

I know every word I write is a cliche...but I say that is a good thing. I will only be who I am now, once, and I would rather fill this time with childlike wonder than old soul sensibility.

As far as getting out of the industry and all that. Had I not bartended, had you not sat at my bar, I would have missed out on you-the best of you I have yet to see-hell, I'm not sure you have seen the best of you yet. Everything happens for a reason-call it immaculate design...I can't wait to run into you again. But next time, you are buying.

Love, Lust, and Youthful Exuberance-me

2006-06-28T10:41:00.000-07:00

So today is Nadia's birthday.And because I have been avoiding her since I arrived (drugs,hipsters,drama-oh my!)Her birthday has morphed into a dinner party and I am cooking.The powers that be (mutual friends) figured I'd hide away so they decided to throw the party at the place where I am staying at-so I couldn't get lost on the way. Sneaky,very sneaky!That is why men often find themselves putting rings on fingers or holding a loaded gun-and are not sure why. Women get together,plot and get in your head. It is just what we do.

I wish you were here. You could be my wing man for the party, though I guess technically you are a breast man-but you get it. You could be a forcefield against all the gaunt-faced hipsters and their "ironic" clothing.Or you could bring your brothers and let them guess whether or not they are philosophers, or well...your brothers.

Then afterwards we could slip out to a dive bar, have a few overpriced cocktails,and I would show you the city. I would show you how to tell time by where the fog sits on the Golden Gate Bridge:low at day break,weaving in and out of the top in the afternoon,and sliding back down to cover the city just after dusk.Or

2006-06-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Dirty D,

So last night my friend bob dobolina and I had an impromptu southern fest in his tiny studio appartment. we had rumpleminze,ice-picks (sweet tea and vodka) and I downloaded Project Pat as well as other Southern hip-hop greats (;-he was mortified.

As a "feminist" (which I have never claimed to be), I should hate PP and any other rap that is of that ilk. "Slob on my Nob" put him over. He thinks I need to be deprogrammed.

I wish I could have the good of all the places I have visited, in one place. The only space where they practically co-exist is in my memories. Travel has filled me with plot lines and characters that I wish could cross pathes.

Right now,in my mind,you are sitting with Raffaella at a small gelateria in the Southern Calabrian beach town of Tropea. The sand is so white,and with the sun reflecting off it -the beach appears on fire. As the afternoon progresses, you trade gelato for aperitivi and the sun spills on the water and swallows the whole village...

wouldn't it be nice? If we could have what is in our hearts-that sweetness that the mind always seems to overpower or make trite? To have our friends and families (real or adopted) together-even if just for a day?

The more I travel, the more I love, the more fragments I am unable to reconcile.

I guess that is why they are "growing pains".

ps...If I could pick only one memory from Memphis to keep with me, it would probably be drunk dancing with you outside Lorenz's house. Mike Britton was there and it was "Throw Ya Hands up"...I don't have all the details,I can't remember what happened before or after, just that moment, mercury marquis door open, booty shaking in the street...that euphoric feeling of being new to memphis and being fearless. Betcha don't remember,huh?

mg

2006-06-22T23:21:00.000-07:00

Dear You,

my mom told me I am profoundly depressed. which, considering she is a shrink-is depressing. This is such a weird time. I spent the last few months detached and unfeeling and now I can't stop feeling. We were talking about Disney last night at Sushi and I merely mentioned Dumbo and I started bawling. I haven't even seen it since I was 8.

watching someone you love destruct is profoundly depressing. Feeling trapped and inept will getcha too. I keep going over the last year in my mind and try to figure out what happend and why. How did I end up in such a dark place?

It seems that the qualities I love about myself and hate about myself are just variations on a theme. A sense of adventure and lust for life, a respect for individuality and attraction to eccentricity- could also be read as self-destructive, unstable,egocentric, prone to unhealthy relationships.

ack.

There are no real answers I guess. You just live and learn.

2006-06-20T11:35:00.000-07:00

I will die a spinster..

I have officially lost all respect for men. I know women aren't much better-but I don't date women-so that is a conversation for another day. I talked to Terry last night and it is clear that not only do I not respect him anymore-he hasn't deserved me or my respect for a long while. Now, I know that he isn't all men, in fact, he isn't much of a man at all-but after 10 years of dating, I don't want to date anymore and I am losing faith in the idea of love that is more than platonic.

I have made many mistakes in love. I believe that I have let some good ones get away. I was too young or too stupid to see it at the time. I also don't consider that a mistake-you have to make your own way and sometimes that means losing something to gain something in the end.

Now that I am older and growing into myself-I have found that pickings are slim. I meet men that are my age and afraid of committment-or older men who are unevolved.

I thought if Terry and I split I would go out and date and meet people, enjoy the rush of freedom...I think about meeting someone, and I just feel pessimistic-like it doesn't matter because things will just be screwed up in the end.

I have felt so bad about myself. I tried so hard to make things work with Terry and he is just a waste. In his mind people need to line up like dominos and bend to fit him-but he talks about his personal philosophy being one of independence-and being who he is and not changing for anyone.

I don't think you should lose yourself in another person-but if you have negative qualities that prevents you from being happy with your partner and yourself-you work on it.

I have felt bad for putting on weight. I have been working on just getting healthy in general, for me-but it hurt to know that my partner had lost interest in me-especially when he has always been overweight and I saw the person under the blubber. He told me when I was thin that he had stopped being attracted to his ex when she put on weight-then I put on weight and guess what? I should have seen that as a red flag.

Any 40 year old man that hasn't been married is suspect. Something is lacking in your personal philosophy or your taste that prevents you from any real committment.

I told him he needed to stop blaming everyone else and everything else-piecemeal-for what is wrong with us and his life in general-he is the only constant and needs to be self-aware.He needs to get his shit together.

I know what is wrong with me. I know what I did wrong in this relationship-I will take that lesson and keep it close, so if I see the signs I will fix it or pull out of the situation.

but if you are in memphis, tell your thin friends in the bar business, that are between the ages of 24-28 that there is an old fat bar manager that will probably be auditioning for a new concubine in about 4 months.It took him 3 months from his fiancee to me-but I'm a little less forgettable (;.

I would rather be alone than cleaning up someone else's mess. Especially the emotional kind.

2006-06-19T12:42:00.000-07:00

We are finally at an age where we are living examples of where we came from. Our parents victories as well as their mistakes, are so apparent in who we are...Unfortunately, it is much easier to see the mistakes. A friend whose father wasn't there due to his demons has taken on those demons as well.A friend whose mother had stormy relationships, is weathering a similar storm....it is sad. The majority of people I know are sad and lost-myself included.

I don't want to hang out with party people anymore. The party is no longer a party, it is a plague. I am not really that hipperest, I don't like bars or clubs...I don't like people that are transparent. If I can look at you and I can guess what songs are in your overpriced portable music device I am already bored. I like people who just are. I think in the last few years I got away from that. All I really need is a few close friends, books, music, stinky cheese and somewhere I can window shop for shoes-and my puppies-but they are being held captive by the evil warlock in the underworld of Memphis.

I miss me sometimes.

2006-06-19T02:27:00.000-07:00

Sam and Bo=SamBo?

So...my family is quirky to say the least...always have been, but as they grow older-quirky is quickly becoming crazy. I came home for Father's day and surprised my dad who I haven't seen in three years, and haven't spent Father's day with for atleast 8. He came from work and found my mom and I just standing there, waiting for him to react and he started laughing saying I could have "called or sent a card" (he was joking). Then he introduced me to his birds Sam and Bo. He told me he bought the birds because he was sick of mourning dogs when they passed, he wants the pet to outlive him and be sad-for once.

The birds talk. Well,they mimic my dad-so basically the birds curse like sailors. One bird will make noise and the other will say " You're an Asshole" or "Shut the fuck up". The other "God damn it:" and it will go on. I was in tears laughing. My dad also was told by the employees at the credit union that he can no longer bring his birds in with him when he comes in to do banking transactions-so my dad is the crazy old guy with the talking bird at the bank.Yup, I share that DNA and can look forward to being nutty senior citizen-which pleases me to no end.

My parents also do that thing where they talk about each other to me when one is in the other room. Not mean, horrible insults-just crazy old people stuff. Like my mom quit smoking 12 years ago-but started up again 11 years ago. My father and I both know and have always known but say nothing to Mom because she likes having her little secret. When she went out on some mission-which was really just an opportunity to smoke-Dad had a rant about it that was comic gold.

I am definitely extending my stay.

2006-06-17T22:04:00.000-07:00

So I had to tune in to the Italy v U.S...rooting for Italy because as Danimal so kindly pointed out "I am a traitor to my country"...That game embarassed me to no end. The Italians were playing like it was a casual partito out in a Calabrian bean field-UNTIL they got hit and then it was the most overly dramatic fall and knee grab one could possibly manage. I was on the phone with Italy during the game, aping them, while swallowing my pride on this side of the globe. Um...could they have picked greasier italians to play? It looked as if they dipped the whole team in crisco. Well, hopefully the next game will prove less horrifying. Unless the Ref in that game is taking pay-offs as well.

2006-06-14T21:53:00.000-07:00

happiness...

So I am trying to enjoy the days and stay in at night-focus on more healthy living-after 4 years of shaving years off my life on Memphis...today I looped around Berkley-ate Mexican food for the first time in years...recharged my batteries. If i have learned anything it is that I am a California girl. I don't like limits. I don't like accepting that I am inflexible or unable to adapt-but just standing still today, while the city moved...I felt incredible. I saw people and I couldn't tell what race they were, and no one seemed to care. Not that there isn't racism here but it is like Californians are trying to fuck themselves grey-like a cultural pangea. when I went to the mexican place they carded me and my i.d. is from tennessee. The waiter was curious about that. He asked me, in his thick accent, what I was doing here. I said I was a Californian who had returned. He welcomed me back, and in his voice there was this judgement about the south, from him, a fresh off the boat immigrant-that made me laugh.

Also, I need to express my undying gratitude to the Danimal. Even though I met him while at 24, so the foundation of our relationship was built on lies, he has been there when no one else was, would, or could be. I consider him my closest friend and personal saviour. well, not my saviour because I am a jew and that doesn't jive. Even if he refers to himself in the universal "we". Last night we drank spiced rum and watched Family Guy. well, I did, he just got rip roaring drunk and made me laugh. Drunken Postulations are the best.

oh, and the Berkley Bowl is the best-olive bar, awesome cheeses, crusty bread and wine...I feel a picnic coming on.

2006-06-14T12:14:00.000-07:00

Wow, I don't think I realized how miserable I was until I stepped off the plane yesterday. As I stood on the platform waiting for the train to take me to Berkley, I looked out over the bay and was all but moved to tears. It was around 7 pm, the fog was over the water and the sun was shining. The light from the sun reflected off the boat sails and the water-the sails were all the colors of the sun, and the water appeared to be metallic.Some of you know just what I mean... all the little technicolor shoebox houses circling the hills...I have missed it so much. They say you can't go home again. I disagree. I will never live the life I lived in College-but San Francisco is home. California is home and no other place I live will ever be. I arrived at BDs appartment and he was at work, but had left veggie sushi and green tea in the fridge, and downloaded my favorite shows to watch until he got here...a blissful first evening.

I don't give up on people very easily, but I need to accept my relationship is over and move on.

2006-06-10T16:11:00.000-07:00

The value of a number
I was a chubby a teen,so I was hard wired early on to know the value of a number-not just any number-the one that tells you how much you are worth-your size.
today i bought pants in size I have not been in 10 years. An 11. In that last year or so I went from a 7 to an 11...if I were in Vegas, that may be a good thing-but I am in Grad school-I just got busy and ate when I could and went from working out 5 times a week to riding my bike to school 2 times a week.
and I think of the numbers.
I was working at a bar here in memphis where I had to dress as a naughty school girl-I starved myself into a 5 and then thought better of it and went to work at an Irish pub where girls were allowed to eat.So then I let myself be a 7.
But then I started grad school and guinness became guinn-ass.My boyfriend won't touch me...like I am an elephant or something.
In two days I leave for San Francisco. I was a size 11 when I moved to SF in 96...Though the boyfriend is the most important weight I need to shed-it would be nice to shave off a size or two.
Hopefully I will find some fun guy to help me work it off.

2006-06-09T13:24:00.000-07:00

Jorge once called me a "jaded-optimist"and 10 years later, I look at my life and he couldn't have been more right...Love is a many faceted thing...and my relationship is without facets...See, as it stands, I am leaving for San Francisco so we can "take time" or "give each other space" or whatever p.c. bullshit people say when they have long since walked out the door but can't close it behind them atleast not while the other person is watching...These last few months have taken the Mistress to a dark place...Accepting the fact that my partner of almost four years is a complete and total drug addict-was hard, I made excuses. He is killing himself and I can nothing about it-except for leave him and save myself. He stay up for days, drug dealers are coming to our home at all hours and we no longer live in an appartment, we live in a nice area, in the suburbs-it can only be obvious to everyone. He blames me for everything that is wrong with our relationship-but is so numb and detached-I doubt he can even access any real feelings.I was giving him money for bills and the bills went unpaid-and he makes about 50k-money should not be an issue.I almost didn't move into this house-but he promised that once we left the downtown scene-things would change, and at first, they did. Then, between work and school, I just didn't have time to get out...but now, I just can't do it.

There is just a sadness about the whole thing. I have been in hiding since everything went sour. I have nothing to say to anyone. I have needed my friends more than ever-but I feel crippled. It is like there is a secret,an invisible plague in my home, it eats at the walls and the foundation...it covers my body in boils...it has been awful. I have lashed out. I wasn't invited to a friend's wedding-after 8 years, there is nothing left. There are all these fragments of my life, my relationship and I need to create something cohesive or I won't be able to go forward.

I am anxious and excited about what lies ahead...passion, sex, beauty, businessmen from mississippi-yummy...I love being single-but I always manage to get caught up in someone...

Some of you I will see very soon.

2006-06-05T13:09:00.000-07:00

San Francisco here I come!!!!!! Hopefully, a few months in SF will get me out of this rut!

2006-06-02T17:20:00.000-07:00

hmmmm....I feel something brewing...things are about to change for the Mistress, I can feel it.
Until then...go buy St.Elsewhere by Gnarls Barkly.

2006-05-29T06:33:00.000-07:00

oh and this guy is pretty damn funny...

http://www.tidylies.blogspot.com/

e raf, tu hai baciato quest'uomo quindi...

2006-05-29T06:30:00.000-07:00

so I love slutty pop culture websites...

http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/

check this one out...it is pretty funny.

go into the archives and find a post about jessica simpson...they write her an 0ompa loompa song

2006-05-27T20:09:00.000-07:00

You blow a guy a few times in a few countries and...
He thinks you are in love with him or something.
I am mad. I think I will always be mad.
Anyone who reads my random rantings knows that I was hurt a few months back when an old friend felt that I hadn't gone to see him in Nashville because I couldn't handle the fact he was engaged and it wasn't me.Since I am not afraid of a little bit of travelling.
Now, I had feelings for him at one time...one time 8 years ago...What he doesn't seem realize, is if I was so into him, I would be knocking on his door... right now. If I was in love with him I would not bow out peacefully. The authorities would be involved before all was said and done. I am passionate not docile and he, of all people, should know that.
Yes, passion made up apart of our friendship before-but every time we met There was rock and roll, tea, and travel...and tea is quite an aphrodesiac.
I guess I am not shocked that this is how things ended. I think he needs it to be my fault and I am a pretty easy target.Yet ultimately he doesn't need me anymore. He has someone to listen to him, pull him up and out of his brooding, someone to run to. But I still need him-which is unfortunate.
fucker.

2006-05-27T17:14:00.000-07:00

"Where have all my friends gone, they have all disappeared..."

So you got married. And I wasn't there.

fuck.

2006-05-08T17:41:00.000-07:00

This is Jorge Jefferson-aka "Vance"

Here he is engaging in one of his favorite pastimes-eating grass.

cute little guy.

Kinda looks like an Ice Cream Sandwich.

2006-05-08T17:39:00.000-07:00

This is Enzo.

Enzo is making a strange face.

As if to say:

Cu?Ji?

2006-05-02T10:44:00.000-07:00

Viagra and Dildos, part "Dos"
So, I have be researching more about this new dildo law...It has been upheld in Georgia,Mississippi, and Alabama.

These are the same same states that still have "dry" counties, where you can't buy alcohol. Come on folks, Vodka and Vibrators make for a good time...or a happening Saturday Night atleast.

If this is really about morality-what about Viagra? It's sole purpose is to help men feel good about their failed wankies, and allow them to chase their wives around and get off again...But that is male sexuality and men are making this law-they don't give a shit about if mama gets hers...trust me.This is about fear of female sexuality and a man's own feeling of inadequacy. So welcome to Yemen,Mississippi, Georgia,Georgia...It is the same blip on the male brain that leads to oppression of women all over the world.

NewsFlash...the best lover I have ever had-and I have had some great ones(Gio)...doesn't come close to me-by myself, pleasing myself.It is selfish, it is my moment to enjoy me.You mens serve your purpose-some better than others-but just as you need to cum on Pam Andersons jugs til the pages bunch and stick together-us ladies need our threesome with Shakira and Tupac as well.
I think we should amend the law to disallow the moral majority to engage in sexual acts with "any three dimensional object that contains DNA and an IQ lower than Bush or 60-which ever is lower".

Hell, if those limp dicks on Washington stopped popping Viagra and leaving unsatisfied carnage in their wakes-vibrator sales would probably decrease in the DC-Fairfax region.

Until then ladies, GO FUCK YOURSELF-Proudly!

2006-05-01T09:39:00.000-07:00

Tennessee is in the process of passing legislation that would make the purchase and possession of a "three dimensional device used mainly for the sexual stimulation of the genitalia" illegal. That's a dildo to those of you who may have missed it. Showing someone your dildo will be punishable by a mandatory sentence of one year.The fact that they were able to evade the word dildo or vibrator and use legalese just makes me chuckle.

Oddly enough, I can by a gun at Kmart.But I digress.

The only caveat to the "no dildo" law is if you are prescribed a dildo by your shrink. I am glad the South has finally made it to the 19th century where vibrators were used by doctors to treat hysteria.

Honestly, as a woman who travels and likes to sample the local delicacies when I do so (when in Rome, do the Romans-i always say)-Women in the South need dildos more than anywhere else I have ever been.Seriously. I have "taken" a random sampling of the population and Southern men are duds.I haven't had a Southern Fried Fuck that was worth the 45 seconds it entailed. In fact, if anyone wants to know why I hate the South-it is for that reason. There is an overabundance of terrible lovers here.And to add insulty to chastity-they are making vibrators contraband!!!

The problem with Southerners is this:by the time you convince them they aren't going to hell and work them through their mommy issues-no amount of lube can put back what has been taken away. The flip side of that, is those rugged types whose bedroom prowess could be likened to outtakes from "Deliverence". Nothing makes me more likely to pull out the pepper spray than a guy simultaneously "hog-calling" and trying for some anal play.

I read some of what is out there on this subject-and there is no real rationale. Banning sextoys isn't going to elevate morality-It's going to make people grumpy. And much more likely to buy cucumbers.

Maybe that is who is behind this. The Phallic Vegetable Lobby. Because people are going to find a way to get off...batteries not necessarily included

2006-04-30T20:36:00.000-07:00

A list of books that I loved growing up:

The Taste Of Blackberries
Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet
Where the Red Fern Grows
Bless Me Ultima
The Velveteen Rabbitt
What the Moon Brought
Aesop's Fables
.......................................................................................
There is a skeleton of a bridge, partially burned.
It spans the distance between my sadness and his indifference..
Nothing I can't get over him nothing to get over-
Why should I accept the loss of a friend?
Maybe because he has.
Fuck.
Good-bye Columbus,
San Francisco
San Diego
Florence
Amsterdamn
Memphis
Infinity
Infinity
squared
off.

2006-04-22T16:32:00.000-07:00

Man, it has been a wild few weeks. "Emotional Bootcamp", if you will. The little guy has an intestinal bug, and I have been up with him at all hours. School is blazing towards and end and Jorge's passing has made me look back to look forward.

I miss Microhylbert.

Fuck.

2006-04-18T10:45:00.000-07:00

whatcha got tommy?

2006-04-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

poor tommyboy..the humilation

2006-04-14T20:35:00.000-07:00

So today is my birthday and I went to save what was listed as a FEMALE puppy from being euthanized at the puppy prison in Marion, Arkansas. Marion has a swamp,a golf course, a subway sandwich shop (probably a francise) and lots of places to leave bodies that will never be found. Oh, and an animal shelter which requires a PhD in in quantum physics to find. Now, since I am not one of those license carrying car drivers, I called my trusty friend Spanky to help me in my pursuit of said puppy.We could not find the place, and ended up off roading Dukes of Hazzard style through the wild back woods of Ar-kansas. Then we found the little hole of an animal shelter-and let the games begin. TheMALE puppy had a little stomach upset so they sent us to the animal clinic which they would pay for. The car ride was a bit long and the puppy got car sick. They ran a series of tests and then sent us on our way. The puppy then urinated,shit, and vomited all before we got to my house-in Spanky's truck.Spanky was silent in a way that spoke volumes. Now I am home with Jorge (the chocolate cubanarican lab) and tommyboy is pouting. I should be sterilized-I ruined my dog.

2006-04-13T14:24:00.001-07:00

So I got mad. I got drunk.I fell. I FELL out of my house. Hard to do, mind you, being that most houses come with doors and windows to prevent that sort of thing. Yup, thats a fact. I manage sprained both ankles, one severely. Ouch. Being a hypochondriac (read-jew)I became convinced that I had compound fractures and was afarid to move or look.My friend had to coax me off the porch. I am a winner.

2006-04-06T08:14:00.000-07:00

I don't know you,but I know you are a friend of nadia's.And you don't have any of those weird super shopped technicolor photos in hot pants-which from my post far away-already seems like a plus
I met jorge 11 years ago. My best friend from Highschool (who left for SF a year before me) met him and his alpaca sweater (no shit)-in line at the sfsu bookstore her 3rd day in the city. He and I became friends and a year and half later, he started dating Nadia, my roommate in college,my sister, this beautiful-open book that I never bored of reading.
her and I used to argue and both ex-patriate from the dorm and go to jorge's appartment to bitch about each other.
we were children really, and now that we are adults, the skeletons,vestiges of that time still remain.
I can't believe this. but I can. in all honestly I thought it would be her that would pass. He always was on the fringe-partied a little too hard and often. She would yell at me, for the 5 years I knew her-if I brought drugs into the home. when she started using coke-I feared the worst.And the guilt I feel for putting value on anyone's life, no less one life over another- is immense.
I hope to meet you, I hope you are with her. let me know if there is anything I can do.

2006-04-04T14:20:00.000-07:00

Jorge and Nadia met because he was dating my best friend at the time and Nadia was my roommate. That was almost 10 years ago and they were still together until he overdosed and died Sunday.
Jorge is one of those people who you can't hate-but should never trust. He is fun and charismatic-but a whole lot of trouble. When he was backpacking through Asia he kept sending me cryptic emails using lingo from William S. Burroughs books. He kept giving me instructions on how to handle the 'blackmeat'. As it was, he had sent copious amounts of opium to the house for us to stash until he returned.
He was wonderful-but manipulative. When he and Jamie broke up, somehow I ended up on his team. He convinced me that Jamie was a pathological liar, etc. Here was this beautiful person who had been there for my entire adolesence but I couldn't trust her. I don't know why I believed him-but no one does-you just do.
I became concerned with his behaviour when I saw how he manifested in Nadia. She was the sweet, big hearted, catty, fun hippie girl in the city. She actually bought bijou phillips album-and listened to it. That makes her 1 in a billion. On the few occasions I did drugs or brought them into the house-Nadia was angry with me. Pot was okay, mushrooms were do-able-she was from Hippie stock-but nothing chemical.
When I got back from Italy, Nadia was wearing hot pink and doing cocaine like it was 1982. It was right before the Dot coms went bust and SF was full of young people with too much money. She was going to clubs and using all kinds of stuff, being narcissistic and self-centered-being an open book, an easy soul, I could see all of Jorge's flaws in her.
That was 6 years ago- and I guess she steadily declined, with him, into this weird vortex of drugs and empty.
I don't blame him-she was of her own free will. But he damaged her with his life and now his death.
I am angry at him for being so stupid.
I am scared for her and how this will affect her.
I hope it frees her.
I just don't know.

2006-04-03T13:04:00.000-07:00

now that is what I call a happy puppy!

2006-04-03T12:57:00.000-07:00

I love my puppy. He is even more fun now that he is getting big-though admittedly, he is a huge force of destruction if not monitored. The fact that people can abuse animals is so beyond me. Oh, and he is birth control as well. He insists on sleeping between Terry and I, and so it is. we sleep like a pack of wolves.He took Terry's pillow out from under his head so he could have it for himself. Cutie.

2006-04-03T12:49:00.000-07:00

Abortion=Holocaust?
As I sit here, seething, there is a pro-choice rally going on-which was interrupted by a pro-life rally. Not to be outdone by a peaceful grouping of people coming together to exchange information- the pro-lifers set up shop, flanked by large posters of hacked up fetus and uterine linings, and shouting that "ABORTION IS THE NEW HOLOCAUST!!!".
Now regardless of how I feel about abortion, that is just offensive. As a card carrying member of the the Jewish party, and having lost family in the Holocaust, let me tell you-there just isn't a comparison.
People were taken against there will-and yes,the grab bag of cells and blood that are taken don't consent either-but it is because they can't. They aren't people, they are the foundation-not the house. A life unlived is sad-but a life lived then mutilated in a concentration camp is a whole other can of worms.
The fever pitch caused by the abortion debate is mind numbing. Under Bush we are devolving legally,culturally, and spiritually. The whole point of Roe V. Wade was not murder-but privacy. The government should not have the right to invade your body or affect the relationship you have with your physician.
Previous to Roe V. Wade, women used hangers and bicycle spokes, herbs and poisons to end pregnacies.Roe V. Wade gave women privacy and regulation. Making Abortion illegal will not change the numbers of women of terminate pregnancies-it will only terminate how many women will do so safely.
I hate the south.

2006-04-03T12:48:00.000-07:00

You are a
Social Liberal
(76% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(8% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Socialist

Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test