Saturday, August 22, 2009

COOK UP YOUR LEFTOVERS, KIDS

contrary to what they might tell you in dark basement rooms, 24 hours is nothing to be proud of

in other, less cryptic news, i have officially placed the vast majority of my hopes on landing the internship at Reason in DC in the fall, because a) a change of scene, a change of style, an opportunity to quote my all-time favorite melodramatic Joy Division song b) no access to what's been fucking me up all summer while not on tour c) living with my ultra-fabulous godparents & their cats / intelligent human contact with people who knew me before i became the world's greatest fuckup d) did i mention the $5000, well there they are. all five thousand of them. if my pupils hadn't turned to dollar signs years ago they'd be doing it now.

[my pupils are currently two different sizes, since this morning. so i look suspicious even though i've been a painfully good girl all week in preparation for my cup-pissing performance on monday during which my probation officer will hopefully pronounce me worthy of lesser supervision & i never have to worry about anyone showing up at my door at 7 a.m. eating chips ever again. i love the song "ashes to ashes," but it's my ringtone, & hearing it right next to my head while i'm sleeping never fails to send me into paroxysms of terror. like hey guess what it's dawn time to throw on a bathrobe & look like the pinnacle of law-abiding humanity, OR ELSE. the way she eats those chips suggests the next one may be your head, legally speaking, & she's rotund enough to suggest that she's done this to plenty of other innocent little felons. maybe they're sitting in her stomach plotting or i can feed her a rock & induce greek-myth-type chaos. i'll miss the probation-waiting-room conversations, the 10th-floor-social-club, but not enough to fuck things up at this juncture. no i can't say the word 'juncture' out loud & keep a straight face, why do you ask?]

basically, i need to be kept busy at all times or old habits rise from the dead. does this make me weak & spineless? probably. at least i realize it. keep my itchy dialing finger away from the phone & on the keyboard, keep my ATM card locked in my wallet letting its hair down out the window & begging cash machines to climb up it, stretch metaphors unapologetically past the breaking point, etc. need to apply to grad school before all my college professors forget who i am, con them into writing glowing recommendations, & find a job so i don't actually have to GO to grad school. mostly i just want to quit living in fear of someone asking me what i DO all day, is that so much to ask.

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