lykomancer: (Run to ease the ache)
The lilacs are blooming once more.
I stood under them today, dappled with sun and shadow, feeling the heart-shaped leaves brushing my face. I leaned forward until my nose touched the cluster of half-closed violet flowers and inhaled the scent of them-- rich, deep, heart-rendingly sweet, and I thought...

I thought of love; I thought of warmth and laughter, and the flash of white teeth in an incorrigible grin. I thought of the low growl of thunder and the soothing patter of rain hitting windows. I thought of soft blankets and the instinctual, animalistic pleasure of touch.

I thought: Ah, you are beautiful, my beloved, truly lovely. As a lily among brambles, so is my love... Stay me with apples and comfort me with flagons, for I am sick with love.

I thought: Itsuka mata aimashou. Sono hi made, sayonara, koigokoro yo.

And I wished...
Oh, but some things should remain unspoken; some things aren't meant to be exposed to the harshness of the world. Shut my mouth now. Tender dreams can't be exposed to the air or they will wither and die. I'm brave-- I have to be-- but not that brave.

Lilac is the scent of love; bright clean sunlight and spring rain are things you should share. Things are as they always have been: not quite right, but not really wrong, and I thought...

God, I miss you.

And somehow, I hated myself for it.
lykomancer: (Oh Love Look at you)
I live in that space between the words love and loss--
I said, Sometimes, it's enough for me just to give my heart away;
what would I do with it, anyway?

Recklessly, giddily,
I have no room within for regret.

I spin around and breathe the scent left on the pillows
and close my eyes,

And for one more moment--
one last moment--
I live in that space between the words love and loss,
savoring the air that flows around my tongue as I form the loose liquid syllables,
like a mouthful of fresh, sweet spring rain.

One last moment...

...then I exhale,
let go,
and fall
into pleasant dreams.

Merci d'avoir enchante ma vie.

They never tell you that the greatest sin
of all
is joy.

I saw m'company off, the darlings.
How wonderful! How delightful! How I love...
I realized how much I've grown up suddenly; lying there, warm flesh against warm flesh, I thought, Ten years ago-- five years ago-- I'd want them to love me, desperately. I'd break my own heart with my useless, fruitless wanting. Now I lie here and I simply exist with my heart in my mouth, agape filling me until I want to die from the pressure of it.
(Agape, not Eros mind you.)
I think that's a wonderful thing.

It's now six-thirty in the morning.
I have to be up and going for my Sanrio interview by noon.
Why on God's green earth am I still awake?
lykomancer: (WOO-HOO I'm NAKED!)
...I was still sleeping.

An annoying, loud, high-pitched noise wakes me up. I recognize the noise, but I can't immediately place what it is. My body at least knows the sound better than my mind, 'cause I was still wondering when I found myself stumbling to my cell phone.

"Yeah, hi. Is this Jess?"
"Mmmmmm." (That's an affirmative "mmmm", by the way.)
"This is Evan."

And I said, "Oh! Hi, Evan!" even though I still had no idea who in the hell I was talking to, because he obviously expected me to know who he was.
(Awake time at this point = 1 minute)
But even before he resumed speaking, I suddenly was able to make sense of his name. Aha! That Evan! Yes, ok. Why is Evan calling me and how did he get my number?
(Well, "how did he get my number" isn't really that much of a mystery.)

"Well, you remember what you said when I asked you about if I came down the the Cities?"
No. No, I have no fucking clue. Was I sober when I answered said question? "Oh, yeah. It's no problem." What am I agreeing to?

"Oh, good, 'cause I'll be there in three hours or so."
My eyebrows shot up. "Oh!" God, what are we talking about? I don't remember! "OK! No problem! I wasn't doing anything today anyway."


Well, it turns out that I told him I'd be glad to give him a tour of the Cities if he ever came down. *sighs* So that's really not something to worry about.
But man, for a few minutes, I was really wondering what I had promised him...

Heh. I get to spend the afternoon with a pretty, geeky furry!
lykomancer: (Jaded stupid and reckless...)
Returned safely from Ashland, no problems or incidences of note.

Babblings about my trip )

Furry freakiness )

I have officially been single for 19 months now.
(single = completely single; not dating, even casually; no real crushes or potential relationships; nothing; nada.)
Go me! (Or something.) *shrugs*

I have been unemployed for 5 months.
Go me! I'm a lazy slacker bum and proud!

...God, I think I need to go pass out. I still feel messed up from last night.
lykomancer: (Default)
So Annie and Marybeth came, and everyone had a grand time, including sex toy shopping, priest-spotting, getting lost trying to get me to the library, and an unexpected yet totally fabulous drag show at the Gay '90's.
Good times, rock-n-roll.
I had a lot of fun, and it was really nice to have people to hang out with and do stuff with. (On the same level though, I'm a little glad that things will be calming down this week.)

I'm finally getting paid, and Tom and I worked out a pseudo-budget last night.
Fuck. I'm still strapped in a lot of ways. No playtime at Gay '90's, no YWCA membership, probably no least until I get fucking Northland paid off.
My regular monthly expenses, such as rent and groceries and transport, don't add up to much. HOWEVER, in order to pay Northland off by January, I have to give them 375$ per month. Add in the fact that I am paying for my class at United-- that's another 250$ per month-- and I actually am around one hundred dollars short of being able to pay everything off. Tom says he'll help when he gets his financial aid check in from United, but I hate having to depend on him like that. I think I'm going to phone home and try to have my Grandmother send me out as much as possible out of my life insurance money. If that can even take care of one payment to Northland...

I realized too, with Annie and Marybeth down here, that maybe I should start looking around for someone just as kinky as me so that I'm not quite so alone. (This was also decided after a stroll through the Smitten Kitten and it's books on female submission and proper BDSM play. I think I'd like that a lot.)

Bizarre note: The packaging for the food at work is from a company called "Packaging with Perfection." All of the boxes of stuff we get from them are emblazoned with PWP in really big letters. I think God is trying to tell me something...

I have today off and am taking my time with things. There's really no need to rush anything, and I'm really enjoying the luxury of that.
lykomancer: (Default)
Back in good old Ashland. It's good to be here. I plan on spending the morning and afternoon wandering about searching for people (I know where to find you!) and the evening having a barbeque in Prentice Park. Hopefully, I'll make it to the beach on Thursday.

There's always so much to say that when I finally sit down to write, I don't know where to begin.
Like how I realized today that coming to Ashland is coming home to my family. (My really weird family!) Time to start addressing y'all as "nii-chan" and "nee-chan"-- though, except for Angela and Jenny, that would take a bit of explaining.
Simultaneously, I realized that what I've come to understand as "friendship" is much deeper and truer than other's understanding. When I hear other people talk about their friends, their relationship sounds so superficial to me. I don't know. I could be wrong.

I also had the weird sensation of noticing that the significant majority of my friends are bi or gay, and that this is not "normal". -_-;; It's weird beyond words to hear my co-worker say things like, "Yeah, I know some of Those People (i.e. gay men) in college. They were really funny." ~??~ Huh? "Those People"? (And yes, you could hear the captialization in her tone.) Hate to break ot to you, Dana, but "Those People"...are us, them, and everyone else.
Of course, my coworkers also didn't realize there were such things as Drag Kings. Ho-ho.

And furthermore, I freaked the hell out of one 'em by proudly stating that I wanted to go to Japan to molest all the pretty boys. She stared at me with the most thunderstruck, horrified expression...

...and I was equally bemused to hear the same coworker state that she just couldn't eat chicken with bones in it; that's SO gross! -_-;;

I miss normal people like Annie. Annie, love, you'd bewilder two-thirds of the Cities with your outspoken, honest, free-loving behavior. I like that. It amuses me to think when I don't know how to relate to others in my new environment.

lykomancer: (Default)
Jesus, I'm soaked in sweat for my little jaunt down here to the seminary. It's not even that hot...just humid and sticky.

Talked to Jenny last night. She's about the only person I know at this point who is doing well.

Then I talked to Wendy.
Wendy was my best friend in high school. We were inseparable; we hung out, we had lockers together, we were silly and crazy and a little weird. We kept more or less in touch throughout my early years of college, but with out phone humbers changing all the time, it was hard. I hadn't talked to Wendy in over two years before last night; I couldn't get in touch with her.

But we talked for about two hours, and I hung up the phone feeling terrible. She's tired and lonely and sick in spirit; she's stuck living in a place she calls "the land of the lemmings" at a dead-end Wal-mart job with no friends to hang out with and nothing but bad memories haunting her.
The Wendy I knew was bouncy and enthusiastic and silly through anything; she was like a force of nature. This Wendy is soft-spoken and reserved and hesitant.
God, it hurts me.
I'm going to call her back tonight and insist that she move out here. Tom wants her to, too. (Tom has a tendency to "rescue" people.)

I dunno... *sigh*

No word back from the closed captioning people, damn them. I start with Citizen Action today, phone canvassing, and damn, even though I need the money and I need the job, I really, really don't want to do this. I'm so tempted to just go home and say fuck it. I don't want to be on the phone four hours a night reciting the same phrases over and over to get fat-cat rich people to donate money while I can't afford a cup of coffee. Grr... why doesn't Barnes & Nobles or someone just freakin' call me back and hire me?

Still plugging away at my story. You know, the one with werewolf assassins and the Antichrist and vampire Jesus. It's going well, although the characters are not behaving as I think they should. (Though, this is hardly surprising, really.)

Right. I should consider heading out to catch my bus.
lykomancer: (Default)
So, I got like, hired and stuff.

It was really kinda weird. I was bebopping along, totally not getting anywhere, then I plaed one phone all, did a ten minute interview and was hired.

Ok, now, I want you to think of some of the most Northland jobs you can come up with.
Great! Would fundraising to sponsor the grassroots movement of the democratic national committee fit in that list anywhere? Yes? Yeah, I thought so.

It's tough. I'm out standing in the sun for five hours a day begging passers-by for money t help defeat George Bush. I get insulted, disheartened, and sunburnt. My back hurts; I don't have enough money to eat, and I don't even know if I'm even going to have the job after Wednesday.
See, they work you for three days; in that three day period, you have to make quota at least once to beome staff, and then you have to have a weekly average of quota or above to stay hired. Wednesday's gonna be my third day, and I haven't made quota yet.

This isn't a bad thing, entirely.
I mean, while it's great to have a job that pays well and makes me feel like I'm really out making a difference in the world, it is also really tough and I run the risk of being fired every week. That's not job security.
And I have another interview with caribou coffee and also with Borders on if I get fired at the end of Wednesday, I still have plenty of options that are, in a lot of ways, better jobs.

It's a tough call, really. Like I mentioned, this job makes me feel like I'm really putting my money where my mouth is-- so to speak-- and making a difference about something I've bitched about many times. For every person who is rude to me, there's another person who wanders up, shakes my hand and says that though they can't contribute, they are grateful to see someone, especially a younger person, taking a stand in politics and trying to get something done.

I'm sunburnt as hell from my first day. I did put on sunblock, but I-- ahem-- missed some areas. My chest is burnt from throat halfway down my breasts., and there's another patch between my shoulders. Hurts...
I haven't been sunburnt in years and it's not pleasent.

After work I wandered down to visit David (and got myself lost in yuppie suburban St. Paul for two hours), and the first thing out of his mouth after "Hi" was "I see you got some sun."
Fuck you, man.

I am so goddamn poor. I think I'm going to have to phone home and beg some more money if possible. I can't even afford the bus to get to work right now, and I keep thinking about all the dumb things I did/am doing. Like buying a used book in Dinkytown that once, or buying a milkshake yesterday for lunch, or all the times that I rode the bus that I didn't know about the transfer deal. Those few things alone probably add up to twenty dollars. The coffee I got while waiting for Tom or the bus, the single piece of Godiva chocolate that I bought (and ate while laying under the air conditioner while listening to "Fragrance" so loudly that the floor vibrated-- better'n sex, I tell you)... It's all added up, and now I am fucking strapped. God, I hope Grassroots Org pays me this Friday for my three days of work. I desperately need it.

It wouldn't be so bad, but I gave Tom a hundred dollars for rent. If I hadn't done that, I'd be living the high life, man. Bud rides to work every day and actual food to eat during my lunch breaks. High livin'.

David gave me a bus pass and that's helped a helluva lot, even though I tried to refuse it. It's a good thing he was more presistant than me. Even the eight dollars on that made a huge difference.

I really miss everybody. I wish I had someone to really talk to (David's not the world's most chatty individual)... I wish I had someone around that I could relax with and just hang out and make jokes-- all my spare time is spent primarily by myself, and while I don't mind quality time with a book and sexy Japanese voies filtering through my headphones, it gets a little lonely. I wish i had someone with me and some of my little adventures downtown, getting lost and wandering through Nicollet Mall; I wish there was someone with me to eperience some of this stuff, so that I didn't have a constant, unanswered string of half-sided conversation and commentary running through my head, never to be articulated-- so that I could have a better perspetive on what's going on around me.

I really miss you guys. I can't wait to see you all again, even just for a day.

On an completely unrelated note, Tom's cooking would kill an elephant. Any good eating Jenny's food might have ever done me was erased in a single Tom-prepared meal. He loves pan frying in oil and doesn't drain it; we eat lots of pasta with cream sauces... Bleg. It's probably a good thing that I am on my feet so often and can't afford to eat out.

On another note, I can't freakin' watch any of the anime Jenny so sweetly burned for me; Tom's computer doesn't have the right codex. I've tried beating it into submission, and that didn't work... dunno why.

Anyway, I've gotta run. My transfer is only valid until three and with the way buses are around here... *sigh*
*poke, poke* Hey, you guys should like, call me or something. Or maybe I'll call you. Either way, i want to talk to someone sane SOON.
lykomancer: (Default)
When I graduated from high school, I decided that my goal was to become an alcoholic. Ok, so maybe it wasn't a productive goal, or one valued by society, but I had one, and that's what really mattered.
I failed. I may really like my Long Islands, but I'm not a drunk.

I think that, as I graduate from college, my new goal is to make Japan's sex offenders listing. No, that's not a productive goal either, and I doubt that I'll be able to pull that one off, either, which makes me very, very sad... but it doesn't stop me from wanting to try.

Your friends, by the way, may not be very good friends if they encourage you to start projects like these...but you may love them anyway. ^_^ <3<3

On an unrelated note, it is now 2 am and I have not done any of the reading for the class I am supposed to facilitate tomorrow. I should...should, mind you...get on that. That's yet another thing that I doubt will happen, and it doesn't make me sad at all.
EDIT: Actually I did. Joy is now apparently trying to teach us to write to reflect-- what a strange idea! I'll have to try that sometime and see if it works for me (what sarcasm? what are you talking about?)-- and how to shapeshift. *skims text* Wow, you'd think a subject like that would be more interesting, ne? ...however, it does give me more fanfic ideas. I somehow don't think fanfiction counts as reflective writing... Hmmm. *ponders*
lykomancer: (thoughtful)
My friend Heather has been meaning to have a yardsale for a while, and since I need to pack my stuff up to move in two weeks, I decided to drag some junk of mine down to see if I couldn't get rid of it and make a buck or two.

I've been up since eight in the morning (which is like a normal person's four am, considering I don't usually do to bed until 2 or so), walked about a mile, sat in the sun trying to keep warm, got sunburned, helped pack everything up... blech. I was ready to die about two hours ago, and then Daysha wanted to hang out, so we went barhopping.

What a wash. I didn't even make five dollars, and I had close to 50 bucks worth of stuff out (based off of the prices I tagged things at). I guess I did ok in other ways: for two bucks I got most of the stuff Brook was trying to sell, including a nice sweater, four pairs of shorts, two pairs of jeans, and a nifty HUGE jacket/hoodie thing. Plus Heather's thermos, and another two sweaters. While I don't need more clothes, it's all stuff I need or I'll wear often, so it's all good. I still don't have nearly as many clothes as some girls.

'Kay. I'm eating some of my Dublin Mudslide and hittin' the sack.
lykomancer: (Default)
I had chicken for supper (thank you, Barbara), and sat around Kris's house watching Daysha's copy of Pirates of the Caribbean. Now, I'm sitting here at my computer (thank you, Tim), drinking Chai latte (thank you, Angela) with a splash of vanilla schnapps (thank you, Ed) and eating a piece of chocolate cake (thank you, Crystal), while listening to strange foreign music (Angela again) and wearing my nice red housecoat (Crystal again). I need to call that strange woman Tom hooked me up with so that I can get a ride down to his place for part of Spring Break.

Independent adult?
What's that mean? Certainly it doesn't mean me...


lykomancer: (Default)

May 2017

78 910111213


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 03:07 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios