the pill vs the springhill mining disaster

My birthday is in five days.
Gifts of luv, money, new life, geeky men can be sent here.

the pill vs the springhill mining disaster
every day my roommate and i have a fight.

i get up, rinse my mouth with plax, plop my contacts in. once my vision is crystal, the first thing i always notice is the case that she keeps her diaphragm in and her damn spermicide. it sits there, so innocent on top of the shelf above the sink. and every day i get this revolting feeling in my stomach. i try not to let it get to me — i mean it’s not like her diaphragm is staring me in the face, winking at me, reminding me that I’m alone. but it’s just the class of the whole idea. i mean, it’s tacky for godsakes. i mean it’s bad enough that no one will go and fix the cracked toilet seat. Cathleens idea was to use duct tape around it the crack. my my my, aren’t we high falutin.

so.

i move the diaphragm and jelly into her bedroom. and that next morning it was back in full force. laying there in its pretty pink case – defying me. taunting me.

it’s annoying the piss out of me.

what jails is like
I’ll warn you, if cornered
I’ll scartch my way out of the pen
wired, an animal, the claustrophobia begins.”

it’s approximently 3:57am and insomnia is taking over.

again.

it’s a never ending battle it seems. today i was so proud of myself. all of the stuff i had planned on doing i got done (oh yeah, fighting with justin was on the list of priorities, don’t lemme forget that): i updated the site. i did laundry. i biored. i cleaned the house. put the clean laundry away. called the car pool people. it was going swell. so at 11:something, when i laid down to read before i went to sleep, and i check the clock an it’s 12:16, and then 1:26 and then it’s 2:27am. Justin is back to working days now at PBI, so he’s up at the crack of dawn. He decided, at 11pm, to watch Party Girl. I rented it for him, on the basis that there was nothing else at the vid store. And Danny always said i reminded him of Parker Posey. She’s got MOXY! I luv her.

An anonymous email I just sent out:

“It’s 4:16am and I’m still awake.
It’s freezing here.
And i’ve decided that I’m unbearably lonely.

Lisa”

you know, I’m tired of being strong.

Mike and i had this killer conversation yesterday (being Sunday — lets not fuck up my sleeping habits enough).

And I like him.

I like the fact that that I can be something of myself around him. I thought he was being pretty spacey sometimes — you know always good for a few laughs — he’s a funny guy. every time we are on the phone, I’m laughing so hard my stomach aches. but today was different.

and i think it was because when the fun and games were done, we got down to some serious talking. he always pesters me to ask him questions (i hate when people do that btw) about himself. and it’s hard, when i’ve lived in my head for so damn long. almost 27 years worth.

and we talked.

and it felt good — it didn’t feel contrived or that i was using one of my sparkingly personalities to do something. I’m grasping for the words to describe it — but I’m afraid I’ll sully it with some trite description. and this wasn’t really about you know, a rehash of our life — but it was more a telling of stories. about ourselves. and i felt utterly comfortable discussing things with him. it was strange — it was like something had changed. i just felt — me. and talking about my moxy vs insecurities. it was just normal.

i’ve been striving for normalcy for the last few years. a few days ago, i went to Jeff’s website and found that i was a tad green with jealousy. newly married, new loft in downtown Pittsburgh. i don’t know — i just felt sick that i didn’t have that. it’s like a part of me won’t allow that to happen. and i don’t know why. well, yesh i do know why. I know precisely why.

i can trace it all back to specific events in my life of why i am the way i am. i can explain it so clear. maybe you should work on it — i keep hearing that. but damnit. it’s like, mike is so totally the guy that i would love dating on a daily basis (well you know what i mean). not textual. just — you know beers somewhere. a movie. hiking somewhere. where i can give him a kiss on the cheek good night, shut the door and go sit on my bed for hours whispering to my teddy bear, telling him how great mike is.

real.

in your face.

i need that as bad as i need to be whipped sometimes. don’t get me wrong, i love my mind f00ks as much as the next sadist/masochist, but there is something about reality. smelling and breathing. and touching that is just so appealing. it just seems in the last five years i’ve meet guys i’ve liked on-line, we meet and it ends up somewhere has to move somewhere to date. and it’s not even that anymore. it’s like assumed we will automatically start living together. i wouldn’t give up that for anything — it’s experience, i want to be able to say i’ve done it, but the last time i was on an actual “date” was with danny back in 96.

and that makes me sad.

i get so disgusted with the pick of men in SF — hell — i know totally part of it is my attitude since i’ve gotten here — how i feel like it’s tainted and sullied with bad memories. that things shouldn’t be the way they are — that my dreams got dashed by things that i couldn’t control.

now, don’t get me wrong, geeking out is great. it’s fun. i love being online, but there is so much more to me than just what you see here, in this medium. it’s like the whole email disaster — people email me, but i don’t think they really want to know “me” — cos i might say or do something that will totally disrupt them and any illusion they have of me. and that annoys me. or they think I’m so fscking cool. cool about what? I’m just me damnit! That’s all I have ever wanted to be — was me.

Jaffo once told me I was the most complicated woman he ever met. he’s a net.legend, this must be true. he has this thing for grapefruit — Lisa get back on track!

yesh ma’am!

i just think that maybe, I’m growing up. things defiently don’t seem like they used to be when i was younger. things seem more clear — or — just more focused. and that feels like a lie, partly because well, I’m feeling vulnerable right now. and it seemed like a good thing to say.

it’s 5:31 am. Justin is up and told me i was beautiful. i keep staring at the picture to your left — and i can’t believe that’s me. that’s just one of me’s. so it’s been said.

I’ll leave you from a few words from my boy Greg Dulli:

When We Two Parted

baby, i see you’ve made yourself all sick again
didn’t i do a good job of pretending?
You’re saying that the victim doesn’t want it to end
Good. I get to dress up and play the assassin again.
It’s my favorite.
It’s got personality.
I should have seen this shit coming down the hall.
Every night I spent in that bed
with you facing the wall
If I could have only once heard you scream
To feel you were alive instead of watching you abandoning yourself
baby, you can open your eyes now
And please allow me to present you with a clue,br>
If i inflict the pain then baby only I can comfort you
Out of the night we come into the night we go
If it starts to hurt you then you have to say so.

finis

x0x0x0x0x0x,
moi

eyes like coins

my rant the other did help one thing: the serious writers block I have had as late. Those long term in the Lisa Chronicles should know the pattern by now: days of entries, big gap in time, one seriously angsty entry, and back to days of entries again.

In the last few days, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my head. I was telling James (from England) about how I would, at times, spend hours staring at myself in the mirror. Maybe looking for the piece that is missing? maybe looking for the “spark” to light up my life. who knows. but, it’s something I’ve always tried /not/ to do (but did anyway) because it seemed to be fairly vain.

When I’m walking by a window/mirror or something that basically is going to reflect, I always want to look at my eyes and facial features. I want to see what the world sees. Justin often chides me on this as we are driving home because I will glance into the rear-view mirror and just /look/ at my eyes. I want to notice something that other people claim to see or want to see.

The one thing that struck me odd was that my eyes are actually /light/ brown. I remember a few years ago when Danny and I were at BlockBuster one night renting a movie. We had been joyfully arguing about whose eyes were darker. The BlockBuster we patronized at the time had square poles that were covered in mirrors. He grabs me by the hair and shoves my face (lightly!) near the mirror with his next to mine. Yep, he was right. My eyes were a lot lighter than I had /thought/ I had seen while his were nearly black as night.

all too often I don’t think we really /see/ who we are. One of the big conceptions I think (as someone pointed out to me last night) was that web-Lisa is different from irc-Lisa, which to be sure, is different from real-life-Lisa. Some times it’s hard to reconcile one from the other and where those boundaries lay.

I’m not really good with boundaries. I tend to think “mine mine mine” and keep it that way until I’m bored or have been kicked to the curb.

so the other day, was sitting on the sink applying mascara when i /really/ looked at myself. eyes, lips, cheekbones, the curve of my face into my neck. i spent more time staring into my eyes than anything, still looking for that piece of information that i feel keeps lacking in my life. going back to the color, i noticed my eyes were light brown with a wide ring of dark blue around the cornea. it was a strange combination, but that is what i saw. someone else, as i recall, had noticed it too when staring into my heavenly orbs. others have claimed to have seen green and yellow specks or that one eye was hazel and the other dark brown. me? well, i always said my eyes were dark as night and after 26 years of living with them, you would think that i would know what i was talking about.

well i was wrong.

i keep thinking of late what Andrew said about perceptual reality and global reality. we can all agree, for instance, that the sun rises in the morning and sets at night. what we can’t agree on is whether or not when it rises or when it sets because our perception of this even is going to be different. i like akining this to people and how people perceive different things and what we want from that perception itself. maybe, sometimes, we try to hard to think one thing and what we really have is another.

i dunno, it just seems that lately the more angst i give myself the more i bury myself into myself. sometimes change is good — and sometimes finding certain aspects of different relationships with people on either irc/real life or what have you, gives you a whole new view on things.

tonight for instance, i interviewed a guy here for a position that is going to be created. basically, this position would be my boss. at first, i knew who the person was (he was doing tech support for us) but i had never spent more than five minutes speaking to him in any sort of conversation. but once we started the interview, the roles changed. he was a fresh perspective and i found i could really and truly communicate with him. while we came from different ethnic and racial backgrounds, our own lives were very similar in a lot of aspects.

Joseph said it on irc one night that clicked a bell inside of me: I like the attention people give me. And i had laughed that off because I didn’t that was true, but it’s not the attention from others in any context that i crave, it’s the energy from those people i crave.

someone with charisma who can keep up their end of the conversation is more apt to have my attention then someone who doesn’t. i think this explains some of the aspects of why i flirt so much. some people you can spend hours and hours talking to, even in a platonic matter, while others are like fucking dead people. I think that is what bothers me the most about some of my “admirers” that were stalking me at one time or another: the spark wasn’t there to carry on the conversation longer than any sort of subject other than what was superficial at the moment. and it wasn’t that i needed something like that all the time, but think of me as a battery: i need to keep going and going and going.

i think this works well with the exhibitionist streak that i have or the fact that it seems i have no morals. I do, however the point i want to make is that i want people to /think/ for themselves and think completely independent of what they see/hear. This doesn’t fall into any sort of intelligence or common sense issue, it falls into the issue that some people have “spark” and others don’t.

Jeff once said to me that I zipped up my whole life into a F.U.C.K. file and gave it to the world. Pawl said that I never told him anything other than in email. I think that I say a lot of things, I just think that many of those I’m speaking to just don’t listen. Yeah, yeah, I know: they are not clairvoyant or even telepathic. I just think that for the lack of attention paid to that aspect (look what I do for godsakes), is one of the reasons why i had finally broken down and did LisaLandCam, because I have absolutely no problem baring my soul to the world and have you notice the consistencies (or inconsistencies) of who I am. This is me. This is not all of me, but it’s enough for now. Even in day to day activities, I still find that many of what I said/do is still under heavy watching because it may not make sense with what I have said/done in the past.

I’m really into “real” things. like things that can be touched/felt/seen/heard. I’m into staring into eyes and seeing what images i can come up with. I’m into baring the soul and not letting go. mystery is fine, that’s part of the mindfuck, keep it changing, but i need to make it real, in no matter what context. so that’s why, it’s a paradox: i say a lot in these herein journals but when it comes to those I’m talking to: i want to see results! i want to see actions! don’t tell me x,y,z just do it! I get easily frustrated with how people will, instead of take charge of the situation, lax on it. either you do or you don’t.

as for me, well, no one ever said i was perfect nor did anyone say that i easy to get along with. but i can tell you one thing: go sit in your bathroom, flip the lights on and stare into your own eyes for an hour or so. things will become a lot clearer when you do.

love,
x0x0x0x0x

Make yourself at home! Clean my kitchen.

intense copper red
the weekend is almost over, but unlike every other weekend this time it’s different. I wish I could give a better description (as justin is sitting here kneading my shoulders) but I can’t. I just feel completely and totally in love with the world at the moment.

interlude
jeff s or jeff z?
Jeff S. or Jeff Z.?
Shit. I’m going to go with Jeff S. Justin and I were sitting here debating about it. I had no interest in looking at Jeff Z’s kitty cam, I just need a pic to compare the two to see who was who. Goddamnit! 😉

I’m really hoping that Jeff S. isn’t going to be too pissed for me swiping this picture. Strange, the last picture I have of Jeff S. shows him in this 80’s haircut from when he graduated from college (in 96). he’s cute, but not the hottie you see before you. If it is Jeff Z? Big deal. I would much prefer it to be Jeff S.

What is also strange is this dream I had last night. In fact I had several dreams. One of them was me getting with two girls (not at the same time mind you). must have been a wet dream 😉

the other dream was I was with this man and it wasn’t someone that i had ever been with before in any context. and he was my true love. either i’m wishful thinking or watching too many movies. but i felt so goddamn happy when I woke up. Jesus, someone smack me. I’m not perky polly!

Anyway, this picture looks remarkably like that guy. What if it is Jeff Z? Well like I said, it looks remarkably like that guy. If it is Jeff S.?

Well, unfortunately, I ruled out all men in the state of Pennsylvania, so either he would have to move or it isn’t him.

but it’s a nice thought.

murder
now for the depressive part of the list, my friend shelly called me the other night to tell me that Larry had been murdered. Larry is her sons Marcus father. Seems that Larry has been working these last few years at this club in G-Rap called 54th Street. I used to go there on occasion. He bounces the door and one night (that night) a few patrons were attempting to get inside the club when they knew the bar was closing. Larry kept attempting to keep them out. One of the guys pulled a gun on him and shot him in the face. The bullet went right up his nose and through his brain. He was pronounced dead at 5:30am in the morning.

I knew Larry as well, and I felt horribly guilty about his death. I know, I know, it was not my fault. But it always kills me when someone who is attempting to get their life together ends up dying violently. Shelly is faring pretty well. She and Marcus are going to be driving up to Michigan (from Virginia) for the funeral later on this week. I was tempted to go as well but I couldn’t take the time off and I would be there more for Shelly then for Larry’s family. Shelly said that was quite okay with her, as she had already was fine and was more concerned about Marcus then anything else.

cute boyz
There are two cute boys in my poly sci class. None in my cultural anth class, none in my physics class and 1 cute boy in my tragic drama’s in Greek history class. I’m set.

old friends
I popped my email today to find that I had gotten a letter from an old school friend of mine, Jenni Lusk. Jenni and I go -way- back (to 10th grade even). I haven’t spoken to her (or really anyone) since I moved to cali. I immediately emailed her back and gave her all my phone numbers. She called a bit later.

It was wonderful speaking to her. I hadn’t spoken to her in ages. We caught up on her and her son Dalton’s life as well as people we both knew. Seemed that everyone had the same thing going on and nothing had really changed. It was strange that I was just thinking of her and Julie a few days ago and wondering how they were. I didn’t get a chance to speak to either one of them when I went back home to G-Rap for Christmas. I had mostly figured that they had all moved away, which is obviously common in people in my age group.

We talked for about an hour or so, catching up on things.

Sometimes I really, really miss home.