Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Night After Night

Filling my subconscious with dreams of someone else
The lingering memories of you were serenading me to hell
I can't get you out of my heart
because I can't get you out of my head
Expatiating through the nights and days as the living walking dead

Manumit me from the otiose journey
Night after night there are tears and my heart on the gurney
I'm still bleeding with every moment of remembrance
Won't clean the blood droplets sparged along the walls
I leave them there in reverence
Tokens of the passion that once was felt

I am all that remains of the day my world stood still
Turning to ashes and becoming more brittle
You've been banished to the adust barren landscapes of my psyche
Only to sail back across the uncharted shark-filled waters of my memory
Razor wire once more slices into my brain so violently
What brings you to the City of the Dead?

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Toxicity of Shandra Jade

I don't fully blame myself, per-say. I can't really. It was well inured in me from a young age to only watch out for myself. I was taught from almost the get-go that the only one fully watching out for me was in fact, me. Read my previous writing about my dad. And know that I was treated by my father in a completely different way than my brother and sister were. Not even an equal offering of abuse to bond us siblings together. I was singled out, which just makes me feel more independent, more alone, more solitary.

I used to go around blaming everyone else for not being in my life for very long. It seemed I would have one "bff" at a time, some lasting as long as 2 years, but never more. One at a time each person would do something that would piss me off, or in a small way hurt my feelings, and as a result I would completely eradicate them from my life. I looked at it then as doing myself a favor: if they weren't going to be a perfect friend, then why have them in my life at all?
Looking back on those people now I know I made a lot of mistakes and missed out on keeping some great people in my life. I was in a sense looking for perfection, which is impossible. But really, I was just getting rid of people who hurt me in little ways because I wasn't about to ever let them hurt me in a big way. I don't regret any of those decisions, really, because I just DON'T. But I do look at them as several examples, and learning experiences, of what I do wrong, again and again.

On the other hand there are all the relationships where I have been the evil-doer, the betrayer, the one who hurts. Because I am so independent and feel like such a lone creature, I feel I have no real loyalties to anyone and this leaves me prone to hurting, abandoning, and flying far away before, again, I let a person in too close. I am a jerk, and a selfish asshole. I do things for me and no one else, unfortunately. I try to break my patterns but sometimes I fear they are unbreakable, symptoms from the life I have led thus far.

There comes a time in the life of every abused child that they have to become an adult and take responsibility for their own actions. I know they are plenty of ever-so-Freudian explanations for my outlook on the world and my interactions with people in it, but I also know that I am the only one who can shape my future and decide who I will be.

No one hurts me. I stopped letting anyone else hurt me at about 14. I stopped letting anyone in enough to hurt me as a survival instinct. I learned not to rely on ANYONE around me because NO one has every had my back. I have me, I have me, I have nothing and no one but me.

I see myself repeating the same patterns over and over. The scariest part is I still do not care. I could do away with every single person in my life, save for one (my brother, whom I practically raised) , and I know I would be just fine in the long run, albeit sad or lonely depending on the person. I fear now I will never change, that these qualities are now too tightly woven into the fabric of my being. Which is why I warn all to not get too close to me, not get to used to me being around. Never rely on me. I am always on the brink of running away. It can be months, it can be years, but I'll be gone in an instant in a puff of smoke leaving nothing in my wake.

No one has lasted in my life.
No one.

My heart was broken once. I broke it myself. The one person who just about got in, I got rid of, as usual. Every day since I hate myself a little for hurting the one person I have ever loved, but mostly for taking from myself someone very important. But I guess it gives me a little hope...that someone was almost there. Someone had their hand on the knob of the door and I was just about to unlock the deadbolt and not only let them in, but welcome them in.

If it almost happened once, I guess maybe it could happen again.

Weight of Regret

(January 09)

Eyelashes laden with the salt from my tears
I can't seem to lift my weighted eyelids
Last night seemed like years
The night before saw every fear come true
All I wanted was you
Instead I decided to drop everything and walk away
That was my biggest mistake

Now the days pass by and it's been a week
I thought I was being strong,
But maybe as usual I was weak
Taking the easy way out, saying goodbye
Never before has it wreaked such havoc on my insides
What was I thinking when I tried to stop thinking of you
How did I think I could escape it, when my life is so imbued

I regret every bit of it, so can I take it back
Can't I please make you laugh again
Why didn't somebody stop me
Tell me I was wrong, so wrong
I decided to no longer know you
Seemed like such a good idea at the time
I've taught myself that even my iron heart is the shattering kind


(January/February 09)

You're the glass in my foot,
And the metal plate in my head.
You're the hangnail on my finger,
And the words I never said.
Yet you're everything to me,
You're just where I want to be.

You're the twisting knife in my side,
And all the pain I tried to hide.
You're the dogeared pages of borrowed text,
And you're the nights I get no rest.
Yet you're everything to me,
I'm not blind but I can't see.

You're the stress on my aching heart,
And every day that's just too hard.
You're hero and villain in every bad dream,
And every frustrated despairing scream.
Yet you're everything to me,
I'm not trapped but I'm not free.

You're the strangling seizing feeling when I can't get any breath,
And you're the songs that have no depth.
You're a melody that can't be heard,
And every hope and dream deferred.
Yet you're everything to me,
I'm locked again without a key.

You're the purple bruise on my shin,
And all the games I cannot win.
You're the scribbled words that can't be read,
And the nights I cry myself to sleep in bed.
Yet you're everything to me,
You taught me to believe...

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Beautiful Memories

(I wrote this a few years ago...)

I remember when I said I hated my sister and wished she was dead.
At eleven you think you mean such frustrated outpourings of your heart.
One morning I was called into your cold dark room--
the lights were always dim and the air was always damp and cool--
I went in that room a soft age of eleven and left a different person.
Still in pajamas, a little girl, I was handcuffed.
Real, heavy, policeman handcuffs--the good stuff.
I was forced to watch video from the holocaust, hours of it.
Naked bodies heaped onto carts and burned,
silent gray films of real horror.
If I looked down or away for even a moment there would be physical hell to pay.
I remember it was almost Christmas.

I remember so many impacts of leather to skin,
just for a five year old's fibbing.
Not today--wait until the hand prints on your body go away.

I remember when I heard you died.
Yes I cried, but that wasn't sorrow.
It was relief and the unburdening of fear from my weighted down shoulders.
Those tears were nothing but the release of fear--you really weren't coming back this time.
How perfect it was New Years Day.
From that day on, the nightmares went away.

I remember always wanting to love you and to have you love me in return.
I remember not wanting to fear you.
I remember not wanting to tremble in your presence.

I remember that day in junior high, the first week of eighth grade.
No one came to pick me up from school because you were in the hospital.
I just didn't know it yet.
Tried to kill yourself again supposedly and failed once more.
Never did see you again, thank god for that.
I remember calling home that day
because no one was there.
I didn't know why, or where to go.
Grandma picked up the phone and I could hear my sister's screams
as she went in the backyard and saw every piece
of our broken life
you had somewhat symbolically smashed to pieces and left there,
tombstone shards of glass and splinters of wood.

I remember when you were locked away
all the nightmares I had day after day.
You'd come back before
just when I'd think I was safe and you were gone.
Thanks mom.

I remember suicide attempt number 63.
You stabbed yourself and left it for anyone to see.
Everyone whispered to keep it from us, but we ALL heard.
You weren't trying to hide it anyway.
I remember when you came into our room,
a shell of the scary being we knew you to be.
You said things were going to change.
You blamed mom for everything you could
but said she told you things had to change or else.
Two little girls sat on their bed entranced and trapped
as you relayed the whole suicidal sickness and waited for the perfect moment.
Then when the timing was just right you brought out the knife from behind your back
and told us how you stabbed yourself with it
and lay in your bed waiting to die.
It was days later and you hadn't even washed the dried cakey blood from the blade.

I remember when you said if you were to kill yourself you'd be one of those parents that took the whole family with you.
Then you kept trying to kill yourself...

I remember when you would tell me you were going to put my cat out to play on the freeway.
And then you would laugh.

I remember day after day trying to hide your prescription drugs so you wouldn't take more then you were supposed to.
If you couldn't find where mom had hidden them for the time being you tried every trick in the book to get us to find them for you.
Bribery...flattery...those were the worst because it actually seemed like love, you made me think I would be helping you.
I remember it was actually easier to hear the name calling and the threats that you would put me out on the streets at ten years old if I didn't find your pills...
because at least then it was easy to hate you
and I didn't want you to have what you so wanted.

I remember being scared on so many days that we would be walking in on a dead body when we opened the front door.

I remember when no one could wake you up.
We tried and tried and tried.
I remember falling asleep on the couch--
waking up at one thirty in the morning when the firemen were in the house
waiting for the ambulance to come take you away,
overdosed again.

I remember when you would do so much speed that you would
stay awake for days at a time.
You were actually at your best then,
I looked forward to that.

I remember how you really started to go to a horrible place
when you started hitting Jake in the head and face
with the metal part of his leash.
Just because YOU hadn't taken the time to house train him.
I remember once you were gone in the mental hospital
and we couldn't find a place to live.
We were almost in a homeless shelter so we had to give Jake back to the lady who had "rescued" him.
I remember so vividly the call days later...
She had to have him put to sleep because he would attack any man that came near him.
Funny how the only man he was around was you.
He wasn't even a year old.

I remember that night.
I think you knew then, that your whole life had fallen apart.
That night you broke my heart.
I was an adult and you were a child.
I held your hand for hours while you cried and cried.
Finally you just tired out.
I'm sorry your life didn't work out.

I remember so much and yet so little.
it comes in streams and sometimes just trickles.


(December 2008)

Not so long ago you said "You can tell me anything"
Can I look you in the eyes, can I say "goodbye"?
I can't be a part of your life anymore, I need to explore.
Find a "me" that is without you,
An existence all my own.

I'm dead again, but I'm okay.
I'm dead again, but I'll survive.

If I move too quickly I'll break into pieces.
I'm functioning on auto-pilot and living in a fog.
I can't believe it's come to this.
I'm so used to saying goodbye.
But this time for once it's just not easy.

I'm dead again, but I'm okay.
I'm dead again, but I'll survive.

We were at the center of the earth, and now we're where the sidewalk ends.
How the hell did we get here, how did it come to this?
There is nowhere left to go,
And nothing left to do but let go.

I'm dead again, but I'm okay.
I'm dead again, but I'll survive.

When you told me I could tell you anything, I know you never thought it would be "goodbye".
I would have never bet that every thought of you could make me cry.
I've thrown away a friendship, all the memories we forged.
I've just got to keep on going, though my life is so engorged
In this all consuming, suffocating regret.
Indeed, I fatally said goodbye,
I didn't mean it.

Home Improvement

(January 2009)

I'm locking the doors, please throw away your key.
I've sealed up the windows, to keep you from me.
I can't take not knowing, this pain in my chest.
I can't handle this heartache, or fear of regret.

Just tell me that you love me, that's all I want to hear.
Nothing will be easier but at least we'll have us clear.
I don't mind some confusion if our hearts are set in place.
What I can't take is all of this unknowing staring me squarely in the face.
It seems that you and I have reached an impasse.
You may be losing it, maybe you've peaked in interest.
Now here I am ready, willing, and waiting for more.
I couldn't tell you that before, and now I've ruined everything.

I thought you were different, I thought I could change.
I was wrong from the beginning-you're on a different page.
We cannot keep playing these childish games.
But I can't go on living as though everything is the same.

Just tell me that you love me, that's all I want to hear.
Nothing will be easier but at least we'll have us clear.
I don't mind some confusion if our hearts are set in place.
What I can't take is all of this unknowing staring me squarely in the face.
It seems that you and I have reached an impasse.
You may be losing it, maybe you've peaked in interest.
Now here I am ready, willing, and waiting for more.
I couldn't tell you that before, and now I've ruined everything.

I've stuffed up the chimney, with mortar and brick.
I smashes all of the mirrors; I'm making me sick.
I'm taking your paintings off of my walls.
I'm cutting the wires, don't return my calls.
There won't be an answer.


"...Not every smile
means I'm laughing inside..."

I have trapped myself.
No one takes me seriously.
They think I am incapable of being sensitive, of being sad, of letting things get me down.
I make a lot of jokes. That doesn't mean that is all I do.
Even us clowns get sad sometimes.
We may paint our faces with smiles, but there are tears in our eyes.

I have heard from a few people lately that they wouldn't think of me as ever being sad or sensitive.
I have no one to blame but myself because that is all I let most people see.
But it's starting to wear on me that no one except my absolute closest friends can even SENSE that side of me.

The eternal optimist comedian doesn't stop talking to everyone they know for a month and keep their phone off for 2 weeks straight because they are always in a good mood.
In fact, it's probably the opposite.

That was a good month, back in February.
I ache to do that again, go into hermit mode as Irene calls it.
Have more time where I need no one and nothing and can marinate in introspection. I have had too much to do lately. I haven't had a free block of time in which to disappear into in a very long while. Because when I go, I go full-force into self-made oblivion, and it gets very hard to come back out.
Apparently no one is important enough, or matters enough, for me to not become a ghost to them. The one I thought could keep me grounded was disposed of, even though it almost killed me to do it. But I got away nonetheless. No one get's in, truly. Realize it. Accept it. You're better off understanding me and knowing I could be gone in an instant at any time so you're better prepared for when it happens.

All my relationships come with expiration dates. Some stay fresh longer than others.
But they all rot after a year or 2.

This has been the most emotional year of my life, and I have a lot of words to show for it.
Page upon page of emotion that I have written down as proof that I have actual feelings and am not made of stone.

I have changed so much this year, and learned an incredibly amount about myself. To know me a year ago is to have known a completely different person.

Hopefully in another year I will be even more of a stranger to who I used to be.

My Fallen Hero

(April 09)

We've come a long way, though our path seemed short
You were someone I looked up to; inspiration of a sort
For years you seemed so perfectly out of reach
A flame upon the stage, burning blue and bright
Demanding attention from the gallery, sparkling in the light

I wish I had stayed on that side of the wall
Ignorant of all your flaws
I never dreamed I'd end up on this side of the glass
Looking back at you and silently saying goodbye
to my fallen hero

Then you were standing next to me, our paths verged side by side
I began to see what gears made you tick,
And what wheels made you unwind
I could search behind my eyes and two of you I'd find
One whom I knew as a troubled friend, and the other whom I still held high

I wish I had stayed on that side of the wall
Ignorant of all your flaws
I never dreamed I'd end up on this side of the glass
Looking back at you and silently saying goodbye
to my fallen hero

Now we've come to the fork in the road, we each took different routes
Yours seems a downhill battle, an obstacle of weeds and roots
I found the pedestal I'd kept you on, shattered into bits
Soaking in whiskey and obstination
Destroyed in a childish fit

I wish I had stayed on that side of the wall
Ignorant of all your flaws
I never dreamed I'd end up on this side of the glass
Looking back at you and silently saying goodbye
to my fallen hero

I sought with quickly fleeting sanity to puzzle it back together
Cutting my hands and slicing my palms, ignoring the storming weather
After an eternity without success I must forge on ahead
Looking once over my shoulder, at porcelain remnants of the dead
Respect and admiration forged such a sticky glue
If only our paths had never met, and I had never gotten to know you.

I wish I had stayed on that side of the wall
Ignorant of all your flaws
I never dreamed I'd end up on this side of the glass
Looking back at you and silently saying goodbye
to my fallen hero

Saturday, November 28, 2009

This city is killing me...

"...Come on, come on
It's a heartless beating
The sun is burning down Los Angeles..."

Gas to Los Angeles (roundtrip) in a gas-guzzling Cadillac: 12 dollars
Entry into venue: 8 to 20 dollars
PARKING: 10, 15, or more dollars
The Knowledge that most of the time you paid more just to park than even to GO to the show: DEFINITELY NOT PRICELESS.

I often find myself wondering why people don't support live music. Maybe because to do so costs a small fortune.
When you have to pay 10, 15, sometimes even 20 dollars just to park, that adds a rather hefty sum to the total cost of an evening out. Even I find myself more hesitant to go to a show in LA not JUST because of the gas it costs me, but because 9 times out of 10 I have to factor in the cost of parking.

Now to make things even more difficult on us, LA has changed their metered parking system, including the hours that the regulations are enforced. No more 8am to 6pm 3 hour parking. No more free nighttimes if you're lucky enough to find an empty metered spot. Hell, now with the numbered-slot pay-at-machine system you can't even get lucky and find the broken i.e. FREE meters.
No. In some sort of Mafia conspiracy to get us in to what I THOUGHT were privately-owned pay lots, every inch of Hollywood Blvd and surrounding side streets have become mostly ONE HOUR (with a rare block or two of 2-hour) parking. You used to be able to sacrifice your stiletto-wearing feet and park a few blocks from your destination for the sake of free or at least cheaper parking. NOPE. Los Angeles has seen to that. Check and MATE. They got us. We're screwed. Either you spend one hour wherever you are going or you pony up and fork over the dough for a lot. And on Friday and Saturday nights the farther and cheaper lots fill up and you're stuck with the 15 dollar ones.

You win this round LA. But you're only hurting yourself in the end. Masochist City.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Obligatory "What I Am Thankful For" Post

I am thankful for C.C. DeVille
I am thankful for my best girlfriends--Debbi, Irene, and Liz.
I am thankful for my best friend, the other half of my brain--my brother
I am thankful for warm, windy, days and the fact we have them here even in November and
December when the rest of the country is enfolded in snow.
I am thankful for The Viper Room and all my dudes there--Miguel, Joseph, Dave, and now Skye!
I am thankful for Los Angeles and it's incredible music community. From what I have
experienced and hear, there is nothing like it anywhere else, and that is what will keep my feet
planted here for eternity.
I am thankful for beautiful hindsight.
I am thankful for second, third, and fourth chances.
I am thankful for my cat.
I am thankful for Forever 21.
I am thankful for glitter, rhinestones, sequins, and sparkles.
I am thankful for blue skies and cottony-looking clouds.
I am thankful for words and the powers they contain.
I am thankful for my community of friends, and people I work with and their talent.
I am thankful that I found one form of art I am actually really good at.
I am thankful for my new puppies.
I am thankful for learning this year that I can love someone.
I am thankful for learning this year that I actually hurt a lot of people, not the other way around.
I am thankful for finally finding the guts to get one of my best friends and the person I love back
in my life.
I am thankful for Semi Precious Weapons, The Ringers, Red Cortez, and the other bands that
have made this year extra amazing.
I am thankful that finally Prima Donna is getting some of the attention they deserve, even
though I can't be there for them how I want to be, and tell them how proud I am.
I am thankful for roadtrips.
I am thankful for the price of cookies in Utah.
I am thankful for KaiKhaod, aka Kailyns Kreations and her makeup prowess on youtube.
I am thankful for Cole Whittle and his mission to make me not shy. It worked. Somehow, it
I am thankful that even though I've lost a lot of weight this year, my boobs have gotten bigger.
Who needs a boob job?
I am thankful for finally rectifying my fuckups and being big enough to apologize to my friends
and former friends I've abandoned.
I am thankful for KTP. As much as I miss him, every day.
I am thankful for gaining the knowledge that Boise, Idaho fucking sucks.
I am thankful for leggings.
I am thankful for the confidence I have gained.
I am thankful for weeding out the assholes.
I am thankful for hoodies.
I am thankful for 5 to 6 inch stilettos.
I am thankful for finally finding out what I want to do with my life. Now to get the courage to
just fucking do it...
I am thankful for the new music I fell in love with this year: Red Cortez, Robert Francis,
Ladyhawke, etc etc.
I am thankful for Jakob Dylan and the fact he never ceases to amaze and inspire me.
I am thankful for cars.
I am thankful for Orange County. There is no place like home.
I am thankful for our beautiful beaches, especially late at night when not another soul is around.
I am thankful for electricity.
I am thankful for hair bleach.
I am thankful for tattoo ink.
I am thankful for TOFU!!!
I am thankful for everywhere I have been able to go this year. And it's not over yet!
I am thankful for how much I have changed this year.
I am thankful for Fergie dying her hair darker so I can tell her and Bret Michaels apart.
I am thankful for duct tape.
I am thankful for pleather, black lace, and vinyl.
I am thankful for the never-ended stream of art put into this world by us all. Just got to weed
out all the shit, the quality is there!
I am thankful for Maja Ivarsson.
I am thankful for missing him, because it taught me I could.
I am thankful for anyone who will help me destroy VD...HA!
I am thankful for this blog...even if no one reads it.
I am thankful for coffee.
I am thankful for shows, shows, shows.
I am thankful for Michael Ian Black.
I am thankful for Latin.
I am thankful for extensive and growing vocabularies.
I am thankful for educated people that can hold a conversation--they are rather rare.
I am thankful for red lipstick.
I am thankful for a lot of things I have forgotten in this stream of consciousness.
I am thankful for you, if you're reading this.

Monday, November 23, 2009

We Were Once

(New--Dec. 09)

We were once so close we'd say "I love you".
We were once so close we'd talk until 6 am.
We were once so close you said they just didn't understand the connection we had.
We were once so close I ceased to be nervous with you and melted into complete comfort.

Once we were current
Now here we are: the past
These things find a way not to last
Swimming in sea of distraction
But still drowning in you

We were once so close that she was threatened.
We were once so close I actually let you hold my hand.
We were once so close you'd call me to return a text.
We were once so close you hung out with me the night before you left for tour, not her.

Once we were current
Now here we are: the past
These things find a way not to last
Swimming in a sea of distraction
But still drowning in you

We were once so close you'd call at 3 am to make sure I was home safely.
We were once so close we had a web of inside jokes.
We were once so close we could communicate just with our eyes.
We were once so close that I hurt you and pushed you away.

Once we were current
Now here we are: the past
These things find a way not to last
Swimming in a sea of distraction
But still drowning in you

We were once so close I wanted to let you read everything I'd write, and no one else.
We were once so close that you sang right to me and I didn't look away.
We were once so close you cried to me.
We were once so close you sent shivers down my spine and tears to my eyes.

Once we were current
Now here we are: the past
These things find a way not to last
Swimming in a sea of distraction
But still drowning in you

We were once so close that you called me one of your best friends.
We were once so close that it made you proud.
We were once so close that she had to tear us apart.
We were once so close you said I could tell you anything.
And I did.
Anything except "I love you" in the way I truly meant it.
I just couldn't get that close.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Hate You

(first half July 09, second half December 09. It's about 3 people, but they changed places...)

Hate that I love you.
Hate that I like you.
Hate that I care a bit at all.
Hate that I miss you.
Hate that I'd kiss you.
Hate that you're standing in my way.

Hate the goodbye-ing.
Hate all your lying.
Hate how you're playing the game.
Hate that you're so blinded.
Hate that you're willingly binded.
Hate that there's nothing to back up what you say.
Hate that you are all so full of shit.

Hate how you kill me.
Hate how you thrill me.
Hate how you just slinked away.
Hate to regret you.
Hate that I can't quit you.
Hate how I've learned the games you play.

Hate that you're still with her.
Hate that you kiss her.
Hate that you'd hurt her that way.
Hate you for staying trapped.
Hate all that nerve you lack.
Hate that it's turned out this way.
Hate that you are all so full of shit.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Nothing In-Between

(Mid 2009)

Being with you is like trying
to swallow a mouthful of sand.
Too much hard work
and no positive results to speak of.
You're too much work for little in return.

Being with you is like beating my head
against an already bloodied-up brick wall.
There's something so wrong about it
That there's already a warning bled upon it
Yet still I go in for the pain.
And once more, there's no gain.

Speaking with you could be likened
to hearing one of those whistles that only dogs can.
Your earsplitting soft-minded ignorance
makes deafness all the more appealing.
Can you ever hear the vacuousness spewing from between your lips?
Put a cork in it, and swallow.

Being with you is like being eaten away by carnivorous worms
I can't really fault you for taking everything I give,
for consuming every bit of me.
When I am the one who gave it
and asked for nothing in return.
Still, I wish you would spit me out
and lose your appetite for attention.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

"so beautiful.......I'm gonna be a supermodel"

"When I'm a supermodel
and my hair will shine like the sea.
Everyone will wanna look just like me
Cause I'm young and I'm hip, and so beautiful,
I'm gonna be a supermodel..."

It's been almost 2 years since my first "modeling" experience (I said that in a bad French accent in my head, so please go back and re-read that accurately). It involved me and one of my worst fears: a banana.

The photographer asked me to model for the project in which we were recreating paintings in photographs because she thought I looked like the girl in the particular painting. She didn't realize when she light-heartedly said "Hope you like bananas!" that I fear bananas more than most things in the world...clowns, spiders, Michael Caine, the Burger-King King guy in the commercials.
My lips were shaking the whole time, my palms were sweating, my heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's (okay, that's a wee exaggeration).

Ugh. I just relived it a bit writing that paragraph. :::shudder:::

Since that eventful night I have lost 100 pounds and gained a shitload of confidence (thanks Cole).
Having been asked more and more recently if I model or if I am interested in modeling I've decided to give it a bit of a shot. For fun, not professionally by any means.
A month and a half ago or so Michelle wanted to shoot for tattoo magazines. Having not only her in my face with a camera but also Pete, the hairstylist, another model, and about 30 "recovering" alcoholics from a nearby AA meeting who came outside at the flashing lights watching would make ANYONE uncomfortable, right???
Michelle is half done editing that set...so the outcome remains to be seen. Let's just say I don't have the highest of hopes for my awkwardness.

Last night I did a few sets with The Jew. We had had some plans for a while. One of which was making a necklace out of rainbow Twizzlers. We were originally going to use another model for it, but then we decided I am like, so awesome and everything that why not use me? Ha.

I think we might have set a record for the number of times in one shoot that the photographer said "I HATE YOU" to the model. I kept trying to make her laugh which apparently models aren't supposed to do. My obstacle now is not only trying to ooze my confidence through the lense but doing so while remaining serious and attempting to make sexy-model-face. All I want to do is make faces, jump around, dance, do the hustle, etc. I find it necessary to be in motion, I feel like a complete FOOL just standing there...
I think we got some good shots though, once I exhausted myself a lil' bit.

Have more shoots to plan. A jewelry designer contacted me about modeling. Oh yeah and this designer asked me about modeling on Saturday at the HK fashion show, and gave me her card. www.purrfectpineapples.com (yeah...SOMEDAY)

I'm workin' on it. I've just got to get better at being serious...


Monday, November 16, 2009

No, that compliment is brand new, I swear

What is it with guys?

Sorry, loaded question.
Specifically, what is it with guys who compliment you and then get all butthurt when you don't just fall to the floor in gratitude?

99% of the time I have heard your compliment or your line several dozen times. It's not new. I will say thank you and smile because I am unfailingly nice and polite. But don't expect more.
Do they think you're going to take them somewhere dark and fuck them just because they tell you you're hot, or have nice tattoos, or they like your hair?

Sorry buddy, I've heard it all before and not one of the previous compliment-givers has had that sort of luck with ME.

I also love dudes who hit on you in stores, gas stations, from their cars, etc. I guess I can admire their delusions...that they try even though it is absolutely RIDICULOUS to do so.

Although I do want to find that guy who told me I was too pretty to pump my own gas and that I should have someone who did it for me, who begged me to let him wash my windshield. My fear of gas stations grows every time I have to get gas and having a personal gas-pumper so that I can hide in my Cadillac is looking more and more appealing.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Hello Kitty, please burn in hellfires (A recap of my day)

I think I lost a few years off my life yesterday with the stress case that was the Hello Kitty Fashion Show.
If I wasn't so downtrodden in the areas of finance, I would have never agreed to be head makeup artist. Even with the promises of monies dangled in front of me I was mulling over plausible excuses I could give Friday night in a last-ditch effort to get out of it. If one of my best friends wasn't running the thing I most likely would have done my typical last minute abandoning of ship.

For one, I hate Hello Kitty. And when I say hate, I mean HATE. Right under VC aka VD on my list of hate. They might actually be the only two things on that list.

1. The Venereal Disease that is VC
2. Hello Kitty

It's not a long list, but it is one I am very passionate about. Hello Kitty is to me synonymous with all these wanna-be little girls, boys, and in-between, who try too hard and leopard print their hair. Trying to look different and all ending up the same. What once was a cute little cartoon from Japan that delighted little kids has become a mascot for this sort of shallow surface-obsessed world that I have unfortunately become a part of since I started working professionally as a makeup artist.

From the get-go I felt like a sell out for even participating in this. But, god damn I'm broke. And being in charge was a bit of a draw: At least I wouldn't be told what to do with my art.
So I found myself sucked back into the cotton-candy pink land of cheap glitter, neon hair, vapid myspace scene-queens and their egos, and worst of all the mass acceptance of sub-par art and effort as the norm, or worse, quality.

The day started off with, what else? Late models. I'm not talking the fashionably late, albeit rude, 15 minutes. More like an hour. I being key makeup artist took this time to explain to my minions how the makeup was to look. We were using Shrinkle's new makeup line, Sugar Pill (AMAZING by the way) so that we would have a cohesive color palette.
I have been working as a makeup artist for 3 years. One of the MUAs has had more experience than me, and I had been assured that both of them were capable of quality work. So when I have a conversation with them explaining how I want the look down, and they kind of cut me off with a "yeah yeah yeah..." like we are of one mind and totally on the same wavelength, I feel like they know exactly what I am talking about.
I say I want a smokey eye format, with the darker color on the lid to a lighter and/or different color above the crease. Simple, flattering on everyone, and could be customized to the colors in each model's outfits. Simple glossy lip so the color focus is on the eyes, and despite my loathing for blush, a lightly pink cheek since it's Hello Kitty and Hello Kitty is...vomit...sweet.

I am naive. I am consistently looking for the good in people's hearts, and SKILLS, assuming it is there. I didn't think I needed to babysit a makeup artist who has worked for NARS and has a year more experience than I. I trusted what I was told, that these girls were not as good as I am, because honestly more and more I realize that is rare, but still perfectly capable.

What I got was nothing near a smokey eye, with muddy colors, spotty blending, drag queen blush, models sent to the show with NOTHING on their lips, etc etc. The original plan w that after my models were ready I was OUT of there. I had agreed to do 2 or 3 models and found myself taking on FIVE. The 2 I was in charge of were supposed to, had agreed to, had been told by the event coordinator to take care of touch ups between runway shows. I was NOT planning on staying (read my early hostile ramblings of my hatred toward that "cat"). Yet I am the ONLY one backstage taking care of ALLLLLLL the models. Powdering every single one, putting lipgloss on two when I see in horror they were sent out with NOTHING on their lips. I get close to some of the models I didn't work on and see shadow fallout all over their faces. The makeup in a whole was only cohesive in that the Shrinkle palettes were used. FAIL.
The 2 coordinators kept apologizing to me and thanking me for going above and beyond because they could tell how stressed and upset I was. But it wasn't about me doing any extra work. I t was just more about me, once again, realizing the massive amounts of CRAP that is put out there and ACCEPTED by people. I just can't stand it. It's disheartening and depressing, and makes me want to just stop everything. If total shit is appreciated and welcomed as good, then why even bother trying to put real art out there? No one cares. They'll take anything as long as it's a bright color or you throw some sequins on it. Magpie masses with skittish ADD brains, ready to take off chasing the next flashy thing that is dangled in front of them.

Ugh. I could go on and on and on. Honestly, I was pissed. And disgusted. I'm glad I stayed just because the models needed to be taken care of and everyone else is too lazy and fucking inept to do it.

When I was getting ready to leave one of the MUAs says "You stayed! You weren't going to stay!" all happy and cheerful. I looked her right in the eyes and said very poignantly "Yeah. And it's a good thing I stayed because I was the ONLY ONE back there doing touch-ups." Her excuse was that she "forgot" to bring her stuff in with her. So go out to your car and get it!!!!
Normally I wouldn't be so bitchy to someone's face, and I felt bad after. And this was someone I met for the first time yesterday and is REALLY good friends with one of my best friend's. She probably thinks I hate her. I don't. Just one more to add to a different list...the list of people who make me realize that true talent and passion is exceedingly rare. And THAT list? That list is getting longer and longer and longer.

Flotsam & Jetsam

(July 09)

I finally stopped holding my breath for you.
I was the solvent and you were the glue.
You held me together for as long as I'd take.
Until there came a night when I could no longer fake
the smile I'd plastered like a joker's grin on my face,
nor the heartache I would so deftly try to erase.

All of my blankets have been ripped to shreds.
But I'm making something new:
A quilt made of the dead.
One by one I'm stitching these pieces together.
Making a flotsam and jetsam parachute
under which I can take cover.

Now I'm glad I pulled the plug on the whole operation.
Watched it spin deasil down the drain.
You were always hanging over me
Drenching me in your rain.
I remember it like you were yesterday.
Now that we're here I know just what to say.

All of my blankets have been ripped to shreds.
But I'm making something new:
A quilt made of the dead.
One by one I'm stitching these pieces together.
Making a flotsam and jetsam parachute
under which I can take cover.

The memories that comforted me
no longer break my fall.
But we're back on the court now,
and I've got the ball.
I've been competing with the world and not one prize has come my way.
So I blew over our house made of cards,
and this is where it's gonna lay.

All of my blankets have been ripped to shreds.
But I'm making something new:
A quilt made of the dead.
One by one I'm stitching these pieces together.
Making a flotsam and jetsam parachute
under which I can take cover.

You are a short excerpt of a life that is to come.
A blurp upon the page--
a small addition to the final sum.
You've been subtracted from this current word problem.
In totality--for now?
You're gone.

Monday, October 26, 2009


May 2008

Sit very still and the whole world is turning.
Reverberations bounce around us
If there are ends they are burning.
How far can you remove yourself?
Can you see what I see?
Mind and soul elude your body
And with me here you'll be

How do you escape what isn't holding you down
How do you not listen to that which doesn't make a sound
If I can't feel it happening, how will I know when to let go.
Please tell it to me, slow
Or I'll miss it, again

Sometimes my mind leaves my head
I abandon it all--hope, love, joy, sorrow, fear, and dread
The simplistic, fragile, beauty in life
is how we all love the strife.
It obviously feeds us or we wouldn't invent a Jesus
That had to save us from our sins
We would have just saved ourselves.

How do you escape what isn't holding you down
How do you not listen to that which doesn't make a sound
If I can't feel it happening, how will I know when to let go.
Please tell it to me, slow
Or I'll miss it, again
Please tell it to me, one more time
if you can't speak it just give me a sign

Do you ever wonder if theres really music in the spheres?
Is everything so meant to be,
does magic come from harmony?
Are we all a line of ants all instep, all in tune
Until someone gets squashed and the whole colony is in ruin.
Is every detail so planned out, is it all meant to be just so
Why work so hard, if we never had any control.
Give me my free will, without it whats the point?

How do you escape what isn't holding you down
How do you not listen to that which doesn't make a sound
If I can't feel it happening, how will I know when to let go.
Please tell it to me, slow
Or I'll miss it, again
Please tell it to me, one more time
if you can't speak it just give me a sign