this imploding heart

I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth

bitch/moan.

You know what drives me absolutely apeshit? When someone comes up and says something way way to quiet to ever be interpreted by human ears -I ask them to repeat themselves- AND THEY REPEAT THEMSELVES AT EXACTLY THE SAME VOLUME.

A guy came in today and wouldn't speak up, no matter what. This wouldn't be too big a deal if he also hadn't decided to be a giant pain in the ass. Constantly comparing a sugar doughnut to buying hashish. And being a Republican. And going to hell.("Uh-huh. What? excuse me? WHAT? Do I think doughnuts have the power to damn someone? No, sir. I don't.")

So ordering itself takes 3 times as long as usual, paying takes double. Mister Wontspeakup decides to use the restroom while I make his hot chocolate.

He spends 20 minutes in there.

He comes back out and gets his stuff and sits down. 2 seconds later, he's back. His mouth is moving. No sound is coming out. But he's holding his drink.

"Can I help you with something?"

Mouth moves, mouth moves.

""I'm sorry, sir. Could you please speak up."

"Do you have a way to warm this up?"

"I'm sorry, we don't...but..."

and that barely audible voice retorts: "See, but I ordered a HOT chocolate."

aloud:"I'll be happy to make you another."

in my head: 'but that's the sort of shit that lands you in hell."

sets my soul on fire

Oh candy. There you sit. Waiting. In every room of the house. Waiting to make me explode into a Reeses Peanut Butter fueled fury.

I cut myself off 2 days ago after I swimming through an ocean of foil wrappers and finding my skin speckled with chocolate and acne. I'm sucking down mandarin oranges and berry tea to try and keep the shakes off and lose my candy fat before leaving for SF. I want to wear the fur ensemble for New Year, but I'd rather arrive looking more Fox than Bear.

But going from a pound of peanut butter and chocolate a day to a pound of oranges is still making me cranky as a motherfuck.

been through the desert on a horse with no legs.

A longtime favorite here at TIH, the Christmisinterpretation.

I've been pointing out classic velvet paintings of Bullfighters and Almost-Dead-Elvis to my mother lately and exclaiming that I want one for our bathroom. In my mom's world, this meant that I wanted a giant fuzzy coloring poster of a Celtic knot. My mother kind of knew she was missing it, because the present came with one of her famous "I know you're not going to like this...but..." disclaimers.

However, it's turning out to be a really rad gift. I've wasted the entire morning filling in the little squiggles and I've barely made a dent in it.

it only comes out when the moon is on the run

I've been experiencing lots of cosmic music coincidences lately.

At the end of one of my closing shifts last week, the doughnut maker and I were bustling away to a random selection of my CD's.

While I was scrubbing out airpots the doughnuteer called out: "All Bowie tonight, eh?"

I didn't have any Bowie with me. "Eh?"

"This is a crazy tempo Bowie cover, and there was a Bowie cover on that Nirvana record, and a Bowie number on the mix before that."

So we started checking, and whaddya know, 4 out of 5 discs in that rotation included a Bowie cover.

This week, I unwittingly bought 3 records that include versions of 'Spanish Harlem'.

If only everyone in my life had a turntable. You'd all be getting a $.99 copy of Whipped Cream and Other Delights and an itching to dance like an ass.

Merry Christmas, Everyone.

if I had the chance, this is what I'd say

Oh internet, how is one really supposed to pick a major? Anything gets exhausting after a while.

The good news is that I'm no more than 3 quarters away from an AA. The bad news is that I haven't yet considered what's going to happen after that. Perhaps I'll grow cacti in the Arizona desert, never leaving the house without an umbrella. Perhaps I'll become a championship igloo inspector, standing atop the structures with my arms outstretched. Perhaps I'll dedicate the rest of my life to the recovery of Amelia's leather flying cap.

I told PatrickOpie today that I felt like an empty vessel. Taking it in and hanging on to it. I said I felt pretty boring at parties because my thoughts are all Ecosystem and Punnet Square. Johari Window and Marian Anderson. Then I did a little dance.

So instead of filling you in on the details. I'm just going to do a little dance, instead. It's a slow step backward from love, 2 jumps toward an asteroid, and a thorough shake of the moneymaker for good luck.

with the wrong moves at the right time

Hey! I got a 4.0 in Comm and Music! Bio final on Wednesday and the first rehearsal of the first show I've been able to work on in 2 years is tomorrow. Mom and dad brought Souxie and I a christmas tree yesterday, and Apple is going to fix my computer for free. I'm happy and healthy and broke, which makes me about the luckiest person alive.

Did you know that 60% of our drinking water comes from the respiration of plants? THAT's why the rainforest is important.

i'm winding down

There is something shifty happening in the cosmos this week for nearly everyone I know.

The other day, right after I put up that picture of the BSB with the Muppets, my computer did something bad. You know how your television fuzzes sometimes? The screen did that, then it faded away into oblivion. I had just put the final touches on the last day of my presentation, and not an hour earlier finished my last paper and saved them to disk. It's as though my computer was cutting me a break and waiting to explode until I was done.
Day after that, I'm sitting in the PubLib using the computer when my mother calls. I get up to take her call and subsequently leave my wallet for the crackheads.
She's calling to tell me that the woman who is renting my childhood abode now has cats, dogs, rabbits, chickens, roosters, snakes and hamsters living in the house. My parents want to kick her out, but the lease they outlined in the beginning is hugely trust-based, and mostly ineffective. Mom can't sleep at night for worry.

The advice I end up giving my mom is the advice I'm constantly giving myself: Only worry about what you can actively change. Can mom make the animals disappear? No. Can she call someone about arranging a new lease? Yes. That's it. Don't worry about anything but that. Can I make my wallet come back? No. Can I stop someone from using it? Nope. Can I cancel my cards and get a new drivers license? Yep.

So mom called back yesterday to check on my progress.

"Sonya. I've got to tell you. I tried it, and I slept the whole night through last night for the first time in weeks."

Nothing better than shaving the world down to a manageable bite.

I just want you to know.

see? school is fun.

baby are you holding anything but me?

Hey Hey Hey! The worst is over. I turned in my last research paper today (marian anderson's spirituals), and we just finished day 4 of the 5 day presentation I've been working on since tube top and flip flop weather. When my group and I emerged from the basement of the music building, big fat wet snowflakes were hurling themselves to the ground and rushing in the double doors.

Between Anderson's contralto voice, the snow, and the tremendous feeling of relief I'm experiencing --today has been almost religious.