Ghecko

Being in jail makes you wierd.

I was just going to lj-cut this but that function defies me.  This is just backround noise, what I'm not thinking about but still recovering from.  I'm still the fuck-it-all optimist ultimately.

Here's the thing-  I lived in an echoing warehouse loft, 5,000 open square feet, locked in psychological battle with Tim, my extremely fucked up sort-of boyfriend.  At the end of that time, we were both 10 pounds under our already low body weights, rockhard and lean with staring eyes.  We didn't eat or sleep for days, barely making it out of the house to fuel our addiction, eventually the dealers coming to us.  We took in the street life, got burned badly, everything of value was stolen or tagged.  I stared at the wall and listened to the static in my head, holding onto the fucked up life we had because in the end I'll probably admit that I loved him, and wanted so badly to save him.   When it got bad I let it, pushing the edge to see how far it could go, wandered out into madness and a side of the world where I'm not the golden luck child, facing things I can't out-badass, lives centered around addiction, desperate souls with huge eyes wandering the night.  It shocked me that fate would allow it to get that bad, fucked with my world view a lot.   I moved out of the bad neighborhood and rebuilt my life, slowly, maxed out a credit card sedating my depression, I've been recovering ever since.  I've heard PTSS thrown around a lot.   

My beautiful world snarled at me with maggots in its teeth, and I'm having trouble coming back to terms with it.  I don't want to save money and build a new life, because everything is temporary and nothing really matters, and I'd prefer to exist as little as possible, outside of bills, court dates, rent, resumes, the world.     I think I'm recovering quite well considering the fact that 6 months ago I couldn't even concieve of there being a future.   Just some lingering lethargy and resentment, which will help me stay "young and stupidly rebellious" for a few more years.

I've been sort of huddling away from the world.  I'm with my new girlfriend all the time if we're not at our shit jobs, her mom's basement, the Shell station, and Rite Aid all falling within the same half-mile radius.   I've adopted her friends.  The friends I had in Baltimore were mostly superficial- Andrew pissed me off by being btichy and passive aggressive.  Sometimes I miss living in the City, but the truth is I'm just tired.  I've always said it doesn't take much to satisfy me, all I want is a simple good life where I can have my woman, my friends, my entertainment.   Just rest my head on her chest and smile.   I was thinking of leaving- not lusting for a certain place or change, but suspecting that Baltimore has been sucking the life out of me.   I joined a local rugby team, I have a local bar.  Chrissy are sickeningly cute.  It's nice to be able to say this is my girl, only mine, go home and kiss the same mouth every night, hold her when I sleep. 



In early Febuary I plan to move to Boston.  I wanted to leave earlier but Chrissy won't go without her best friend, a big punk-rock dude I like a lot and wouldn't mind having along, and he won't leave til he gets his tax return.  Febuary is the earliest you can get it.  She needs to get out of this quiet suburb anyway, she's lived in the same house for 10 years.  For now its nice to see all the same people, go to work(Shell station) which is easy and awesome. I work night shift a lot, tending a bright oasis in the night, drunk people wander in and keep me company,  I fuck with the customers.  The owners all love me so I can do prety much anything I want.  I handle money, candy and cigarettes, so I'm basically surrounded by wealth.  Oh absurdity.

Before I met Chrissy I'd slept with 20 times the number of girlfriends that I've had.  Now its down to about 15.  The numbers are fuzzy, I lost count around 40 and every attempt to make a list always gets added to days afterwards when I remember this and that one night stand.    My parents came to me a few months ago very concerned that I was having too much sex- they were now aware that I'd slept with 6 people.  I think my laughter kind of gave me away.  

"So just stop having sex!"  Um, no.  No thank you.  I'm a performance artist, I work in porcelain skin and red lips, long hair and desire. 

So I really like this girl.  She's a lot like me, although she dresses more punkish/manly and is a little more wierd/quiet.  She gets hotter and hotter the longer I know her.   She's only had one girlfriend so I'm still teaching her, but she's learning quickly.

http://myspace-989.vo.llnwd.net/00297/98/96/297516989_l.jpg 


I have a girlfriend! 

Oh God.  I'm just thrilled by this fucked up timing.  

I met a girl at Pride, who I'm now pretty much dating, and she's almost perfect.  She's a little on the shy side, and a little on the butch side in the way she dresses (slthough apparently it used to be worse, she dressed like a gansta and rapped) but I think I want to hold on to her.  This may be partially motivated by the fact that I've been unable to find a girlfriend for the past YEAR and I'm really lonely, although I'm not settling.  I've met some other cool people here, I just got my licence back, my little sister and my Mom kind of need me, and I know my way around Baltimore.  Even so, after her trial for stealing money from her job we're going to leave together , I think.  I told her flat out, I'm only staying for you.   My friend in Arizona had a place and possibly a job lined up for me where he lives in a tiny town an hour from flagstaff, which sounded cool at first only because of the low cost of living and the people he's friends with, but its no grand adventure.  It would have been a good starting place, and pulled me out of this place.  

Staying in one place because its convenient is not me.  Staying for a person is more excuseable.   But I have to remember to get out of here soon.  There is still so much to see.  

My stint here in Baltimore has mulitplied my issues.   I'm more forgetful, my mind doesn't move as quickly or naturally after that one night when I blacked out on percoset and long islands, I'm probably borderline anorexic.  The time I've spent unemployed, the times my mother has had to bail me out, make my confidence a little lower, make my disgust with this whole system that much deeper.  I've wanted to close my eyes and make it go away, make the rest of them see that this stupid dance is getting them nowhere, that there are more important things.   

When I get another job, get another place, I'll feel better, be working the system again.   Can't forget to leave...  

Its time to start over again, find a new job and a new place to live.  My friend who's couch I've been sleeping on is getting annoyed.   He won't say anything, which is sort of good but I didn't think he was so bitchy and passive-aggressive.   Lost another job, I have 300$ left.  I get my scooter back soon, I think, the trial is on the 26th.   Waiting for my Dad  to get back from  Iraq  is the only thing holding me here.  I feel like I've played out the Baltimore scene.  I've worked all around the Inner Harbor,  I don't  seem to meet any girls even at Grand  Central.  I've been living in Baltimroe for a year.  That's longer than I usually stay anywhere.  The sheer stupidity of the crime and poverty and the things that have happened to me here have slowed me down and shaken my worldview almost to the point of giving up a few times.  I suppose it needed shaking.  The flow of life seems to be elsewhere.   I just don't know where to go.  Maybe Boston?  In college we always talked about moving to Boston.  There are definately plenty of schools and a big scene there.  I just had my ID stolen, though, I'll have to aquire a new one to start a new life.   I'll miss Mr. Kitty and my sister and my mom.  I need to decide quickly because soon school will be out around the country and there won't be any jobs left.   I need to go somewhere this week, find a job, come back on the 24th to meet my dad at the airport, get my scooter, and go.  Maybe I'll just take the scooter, point it noth, and see where I end up. 

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Again, its uncanny.

24 hours in the life of Clara French, vagrant extroardinaire.

I get home at midnight from working.  I'm tired and can't afford to drink, but I get ready and walk to the clun anyway.  I run into Girl A, who I went home with 2 weeks ago.  She's dancing with another girl, they're all over each other- I'm a little miffed because I thhough it might not just be a hookup.  In walks Girl B, who I refer to affectinoately as Troll Dyke, with her tank of a dyke sister.  Troll Dyke wanted Girl A for herself, but Girl A took me home.  A few days before this she got me drunk and took advantage of me, which I replied to by punching her in the face several times in front of everyone outside the club the next night.  She accused me of breaking into her place, so now I'm trying to explain to a very scary pissed off Tank Dyke the whole situation.  She belives me.  I start dancing with Girl C, a hot philipino, to make girl B jealous.  I meet up with Gay Friend A, who never find anyone and usually holds my bag/drink while I dance.  Gay Friend B buys me a drink. Gay Friend C  arrives,  and  the lights go up.  Girl C is suddenly a lot less hot.  Gay Friend C and I decide to go on a quest for Illegal Substance A, and take the boy he was dancing with us.  He turns out to be a rich older man, so after procuring Illegal Substance A, which I spend the last of my cash on, we go back to his gorgous 4 story house, which is all decorated in Art Deco and beyond awesome.  We hang out in the 'party room', from which you can see the water and the skyline. We drink grey goose from the biggest vodka bottle I've ever seen.  They get in an argument, and I arbitrate.  At the end of the night they retire and I sleep in the huge guest bedroom.  I can't find an alarm clock, and the stairs creak horribly, so I go from the 1st story to the 4th by climbing up the railing.  I wake upstill drunk, take another shot and go to work- it turns out I misread the schedule, so they fire me.  I wander around the harbor drunk, tempted to give up and join the Army, wander into Phillips, where I fill out an application and meet the bartender so I can say he referred me.  The guy next to me buys me a drink.  I hang out for about an hour, and then leave.  Outside there's a bachelor party on a big boat, so I walk up and say hi, take the proferred beer, and preceed the spend all night drinking beer and yucca, which is basically vodka with lots of suger and limes and lemons.  It goes down like koolade, so we're all trashed.  I sober up when I fall in the water, losing my glasses.   The guy who charters the boats lets me drive the smaller boat to Fells point to get pizza.  Its gorgous on the water.  In the morning  we ride around on the Bay, and they buy me breakfast.  I'm blind, barefoot, and flat broke, but at least there's the wind in my face and the sun on the water. The guy who charters the boats offers me a job and tells me the names of the people I need to talk to get a job working on the Clipper City, a three story party boat, waiting tables.  I get dropped off and walk down to the Harbor, just missing the boat.  I'll try again later.    Tonight I'm hanging out with Girl D, who I have high hopes for. 

Started my new job, serving again, I'd almost forgotten that I really like it.  The constant energy, the easy comraderie of the other wait staff.  I love that rolling in still drunk from the night before is standard procedure.  And so many stoners!  Plus the money is way better and you walk out with a wad of cash.  Today was my second day training, I basically worked my trainer's section for him and did a 15-top by myself.  I thought the menu woulkd be harder because it's in spanish, but its really easy.   None of the tourists know how to pronounce the stuff so they just point.   The great thing about working at a tourist-fueled resteraunt is the people are usually in a great mood, out celebrating or spending time with friends.  Just by going out they know they're going to spend a lot of money.  They drink and eat a lot and usually tip well.  And I get to wear all black with a red sash, not the stupid all-white polo shirt uniform I had to wear before.  Thank God I got fired, although I hear the general manager who fired me got fired for making bad decisions(like firing me). 

Tagged by the_sea_lingers, the 10 fictional characters you would make out with meme:

1.Grencia Mars Elijah Guo Eckener 
2. Faye Valentine
3. Aeon Flux
4. Fitzchivalry Farseer
5. Maria from <i>Steppenwolf</i> 
6. God 
7. The person my quasi-girlfriend thinks I am
8. Catwoman
9. Medusa
10. Honey West

that was harder than I thought, and I definately took advantage of the phrasing of the question.   But I usually just ignore these mem-thingies anyway. 

I was crouching down locking my scooter to the bumber of my friend's car at like 1 in the morning, when I felt something cold against my head and I hear a voice saying 'give me the scooter keys, don't turn around...' and then I heard a clink and realized the gun was plastic. In one second I was roaring mad, more for the fact that it was plastic than trying to take the scooter. I grabbed his hand, spun around and stood up- I could see 2 more guys coming from the other side of the street to help him- and punched the guy in the face. He swung at me and I ducked, he hit the girl behind me full in the face, I hit him again so he turned and ran. When his friends saw me hit him, they turned and ran too.

This could have turned out much worse.

2 days later someone cut the lock off of my scooter and stole it. Idiots can't even ride it, and I know the alarm was going off while they were wheeling it away. I don't even bother getting upset about this stuff anymore. Although my everything happens for a reason is a little less comforting when you realize that yes, there was a reason but that doesn't mean it was a good one.

I met a guy who coordinates modelling and entertainment for gay-oriented events and he offered me work- this is a huge relief. Finding work is easy but I haven't gotten around to it- I've been doing odd jobs for my mother and getting the paychecks that get skipped the frist month you start working, so I'm fine.

My gey best friend who I live with and I got a kitten. Its a girl, so we named it Mr. Kitty. It has really sharp litle claws- my hands are all scratched up from playing with it. I had just healed from that rash of injuries (I have all the skin on my knuckles now, they're just purple with scars). A kitten is a very comforting thing when you're tripping. Lying alone in a room comtemplating how alone you are (in a universal sense, not the depressing alone) becomes even more absurd when a little black ball of fur gallops into the room, flops over on its back and starts chewing on your hair. Then chased your hands around every time you move them and tries to eat them too.

My mother and I have lunch every Tuesday, and we talk and laugh and have a good time. I'm glad we're friends. She misses my dad. I know he's having a good time. He apparently charged off alone in Baghdad because he saw someone they were trying to find. Chased the guy on foot for 3 miles. It was stupid but I'm so proud of him.

I lost my job 2 days ago. I've never been so happy to be unemployed. I can go back to being a waitress at a place where I get to wear all black. I have yet another new life, living on my gay best friend's couch, riding my scooter everywhere, going out to the gay bar all the time. I have a few lovers who all know about each other(if it concerns them) and I just dyed my hair deep burgundy, It looks so good, like a deep red black with ruby glints. I'm in perfect shape, I make up for my lack of excercize by not eating and doing reps with stacks of plates at work. My depression has dropped away now that summer is here and the world is waking up. In my shoulder bag I have everything I need for the life I live, going home with beautiful strangers.

The contents of said bag:
Mini Mag light
3 tins of varying sizes
teeth-cleaning gum
toothbrush
toothpaste
3 keys to my scooter
keys to my friend's place
contact case
glasses case
eyeliner
concealer
lip balm
superglue
tennis ball
cigarettes
3 lighters
perfume
hairbrush
rolling papers
writing utensils
black duck tape
library card

I have 1 pair of jeans, 2 shirts and 3 wife-beaters, black converse, a simple silver ring with a row of tiny crystals making up a rainbow for gay pride(my friend's matches mine)

All the posessions at my mother's house are obviously non-essential. I live hard and fast and have so much fun, all because I don't care about the same things as other people. I manage to be completely immoral and a very good person at the same time. I have my own style and flair.

Puurrrrr.

I bestow myself on you
I can see the healing in your eyes
The wonder as you learn to touch me back
Perhaps my mind is exploding because of the pill you toungued into my mouth
maybe because we are so powerful the universe is rippling around us.
We lounge long and hard in the sun dangerous and out of control
But oh so beautiful

I met a girl. She's pierced and tatooed and smokes as much weed as I do. We hooked up at the gay bar. It was really nice to wake up with her. I haven't been going home because I don't want to leave the City, my friend just gave me kays to his place so I can stay up here. I'm developing connections again, and its really nice. the girl's name is Jean, and she does have a boyfriend, but he's pretty and pretty ok with the whole thing. I think.

A screw fell out of the muffler of my scooter so fro the past week its been really loud, which is hilarious concidering the I weave between the cars and they're already angry the obnoxious noise just adds to the fun. I fixes it with a sink washer and now it seems almost silent.

Apparently my bank allows you to keep withdrawing money long after your account is negative and just lets the fees mount up. I found this out somewhere around -1000$. Bastards won't take the fees off, or I'd be fine. My whole paycheck was absorbed, I don't get paid again for 2 more weeks and the one will be gone too. Perhaps I'll cancel the direct deposit and just deposit half of it, or be penniless for a month. I'm so ready to enter my life of crime. It just hasn't happened yet.

Last night I won a kareoke contest singing a song I've never heard before drunkenly with my black twin. We won only because it was by applause, the place was almost empty, and we were so rediculous. Next week if we win we get 1000$. Score.

My depression is receeding quickly as the earth wakes up. I go everywhere on the scooter, which is a beautiful rush and an outlet, which I had been lacking. I've also been going out and meeting people, and though this has resulted in various misadventures I'm well on my way back to badass. The short version is that I'm missing all the skin on the knuckles of my left hand from a fight and have 3 girls calling me I don't remember meeting. I howl at the moon in the middle of the night while my combat boots scuff the pavement and love life.

I've been in colordao the past few days, snowboarding with my family. Its been awesome. After hours a few years ago spent miserable in the snow trying to master snowboarding, I finally have it. Its an incredible rush. I'm very pleasantly tired, a little lightheaded from the altitude. My sisters and I are very close, so hanging out with them has been very relaxing. We were all stressed out and needed the break. Its so beautiful here. The view from the mountain and from our condo is breathtaking. Its been snowing all night, and unfortunately I have to go home in the morning to sleep 7 hours and then work a 17 hour shift (why do I sign up for these things?) but I'll be more equipped to deal with life when I get back, I think.

I picked up a pretty boy in a bar a few nights before I left, and he isn't aware that I'm possibly just using him and discarding him. I'll have to think about how to deal with it, which hasn't been the case lately(thinking about things). I've been drifting through life recklessly and fatalistically. In the morning when the coke wears off I feel fragile and dirty, and recover to justify everything to myself as I normally do, but a lot of people don't know how I live my life. I don't tell my sister about things like this, and we used to tell each other everything. Probly because I can't justify it and know she'd be concerned. I'm beginning to reenter the normal world where I have anchors and don't treat myself so badly.

I find myself aimlessly doing dangerous and intense things. I found that smoking weed medicates my depression by calming me down and giving me perspective. It also cuts down on how depressed I am the next morning. This could be disturbing, I suppose, but I think maybe that's just one lifestyle and this one has a constant. For now. It was quite a while that I didn't.

The time when I should devote my life to something(Or maybe the next 4 years or so) may be slipping away. Soon I won't be special for being young and brilliant, I'll just be 22. Or 26. Won't that be interesting.

I got my scooter yesterday, and I should be more excited, but I can't seem to muster the effort to pull myself out of this depression for very long. Yesterday I had to get stoned in order to calm down enough to go to work because of a simple problem with the electrical system that turned out to be nothing at all. And then I wasn't even happy, just calm anough to deal.

I think its the season, and the massive amount of traumatic stuff that's happened to me. I never used to let stuff get to me this way.

(Its St Patricks Day and I don't feel like drinking)