Here I Sit

brokenhearted
came to sh*t
but only sat reading my girl molly ivins. because she's the only news i can take. eff-yeah, mother-effer!

you know the worst part of vomiting when your stoned and drunk beyond knowing your name? actually, there's no real "worst part"... every aspect of that experience is absolutely horrible. its now officially happened to me twice. zach's last day of school was thursday, so in celebration, there was lots of partying. at our house. had he gone out with people as planned, all might have been fine. instead, he brought people home. and woe betide any of you who think josh can go to sleep in his bed in his room right under a raging party... oh no... god forbid i should take care of myself and be alone if necessary...

anywhoo. there was smoking. and drinking. and drama. and a drive to the local shisha bar (that part was really fun, saving my leaving my i.d. there and us having to go back and get it...). and there was a lady in the grocery store with some crazy hair, dawg, and zach and a friend both tried to get pictures of her with their camera phones. since they were stoned at the time, i'm not sure how low-key they were. but hey, its a party!

but yes, i blew chunks all over the bathroom. and i hugged that toilet for an hour, in my estimation. just. not. moving. the key, was to not. move. it was an experience, indeed it was. and now its over and life can continue.

i am fascinated with cosmetics. i will read beauty magazines also, but i love cosmetic catalogues. i will leaf through them over and over again, looking at all the lushly displayed creams and lotions and powders. i will analyze every color of eyeshadow, wonder what color foundation i would need, gaze at the millions of kinds of lip-products displayed... i *heart* cosmetics. i even own a few products, but i never wear them. my favorite thing to do is actually to make my face look as though i've been in a deep freeze for a few days. not an especially flexible look...

so cosmetics. and the marketing of beauty. bronzers and shimmering powders, and moisturizers and skin rejuvenating treatments. i thank god that, even if i were a woman, i would never, ever, HAVE to wear mascara, though i probably would. but my lashes-that-make-women-jealous make it less of a problem. i fail to understand beauty in many ways, and maybe that's part of my infatuation with cosmetics. i only understand products. if that's true, that's really sad.

i'm house-sitting for dad and audrey tonight. they are at some relative's graduation in dallas. five hour drive at best. more at worst. so they took off early this morning and come back tomorrow. i'm here to watch the dogs and make sure the house doesn't burn down or something. the crotchety old boy dog lies under the desk licking his crotch. the sappy girl dog lies right behind my chair, so if i try to roll back, i'll roll over her. the young pretty one seems to be lounging downstairs, waiting for her mistress to come back. she lies by the front door, still but slightly anxious. the puzzlement is palpable.

i am trying to do something with my evening. i'm bored. friday night, after the previous evening's debauchery, i stayed in, piddled around online until late in the morning, then slept. and slept. and slept and slept and slept. i got out of my bed at nine thirty to move to the couch, slept through the alarm on my phone set for eleven, and roused at about one, when zach got home from work. sloth, thy name is joshua. so tonight, i want to DO something.

i keep trying to call chris, but she is incommunicado. i actually just scored a minor victory. after the fourth call today, her boyfriend frank (who hates me) suggested that he would tell her i called when she arrived home. i thought it was a great idea myself. he can be such an irritating... irritation. lets leave it at that. but i didn't go in to work today (they're behind on a project (big surprise) so weekend is open) even though i told rebecca i would, and was supposed to go in to try and get to know cute coworker ibrahim, who she is sure is interested in me. i don't want to get to know people right now. i want to be insular and boring, and just sit with someone i know well and is no work, and have a good damn time. hence the attempt to reach chris. i want raw fish and funny. give it to me.

my powerbook should be here by mid-week next week. i am half-way to orgasm just thinking about it.

recently, along with beauty, there have been a great many other things i fail to understand. i'm sure i've mentioned that i don't understand people. but i realize now that i don't even understand me. i do, but in some ways i don't. or i sort of understand, but i don't know how i got that way. i just... there are some things i will never know.

iron and wine inspired thoughts: every individual is such a vast accumulation of knowledge and experience, and no matter how close someone is to them, no matter how much they tell the world about what they know, they take most of it to the grave with them. they are their own quiet little arc of experiences that will never be known once their physical body has died. insular and discrete. life on this planet is rather lonely, when one takes this into account. perhaps that's why there is such a crush of people blogging. its the newest way to trick yourself into thinking that your words, your thoughts, your life, have some degree of permanence beyond your corporeal being. but as i said, its all just a trick.

what is loneliness? i mean, i have a working definition. i'm well acquainted with loneliness. but what or why is it. why does the human creature seem born into it with the (divine) directive "go out and find someone"? and this should all be taken with a grain of salt. i'm a fucked up little tool who has issues of their own. i'm trying to school myself into being happy with myself, thereby helping to alleviate the pressure of having to find happiness through others. but that's not the only task before me.

my brother has become more healthily vocal about my thinking about things too much. by which i mean, rather than hating me and telling me i'm an ass-hole when i over-analyze, he is coming to recognize it as a sign of me being me, and just says "yeah, you think about everything way too much." he keeps informing me that he'll find his own truth with his own eyes, and it may not be much like mine. true enough, but difficult for me to deal with in some ways.

however, he also said something slightly disturbing. something along the lines of not wanting to know what people honestly think of him. because what if they don't like him, or take issue with some of his personal traits? he's an interesting one, my brother. and lord knows what the future will hold for him.

i keep having an image come back from an old episode of "courage: the cowardly dog". termites are eating the house or something. eustace is off somewhere getting knee-deep in shit, and muriel is alone, and the house is being eaten top down, the walls just disappearing around her. so in her terror, she does the one thing she knows how to do; she runs to the kitchen and frantically begins making a pie, which finishes in the oven just as courage saves the day. for some reason, this image is on mid to heavy rotation in my head, and i'm sure i know why. i just wanted to share, i guess.

well, chris has "other plans" and mom and rachel are doing something on their own, and zach is stoned with his friends, so god knows what they're planning on doing. but i'll be taking myself out for some food, and maybe a romp at the bookstore with some coffee, and a pad, and a pen. and i suppose i'll squeeze this one off, because its gone on far too long. happy reading, everyone.

josh