Rhymes With Peace

11:13am: Visit my new blog!
Hi all - visit my new blog at: http://vaselinetangerine.blogspot.com/

11:00pm:

8:41pm:

2:31pm: Water

1. We all know that water is important but I’ve never seen it written down like this before.

2. 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated. (Likely applies to half world population)

3. In 37% of Americans, the thirst mechanism is so weak that it is often mistaken for hunger.&

4. Even MILD dehydration will slow down one’s metabolism as much as 3%.

5. One glass of water will shut down midnight hunger pangs for almost 100% of the dieters studied in a U- Washington study.

6. Lack of water, the #1 trigger of daytime fatigue.

7. Preliminary research indicates that 8-10 glasses of water a day could significantly ease back and joint pain for up to 80% of sufferers.

8. A mere 2% drop in body water can trigger fuzzy short-term memory, trouble with basic math, and difficulty focusing on the computer screen or on a printed page.

9. Drinking 5 glasses of water daily decreases the risk of colon cancer by 45%, plus it can slash the risk of breast cancer by 79%, and one is 50% less likely to develop bladder cancer.

Are you drinking the amount of water you should every day?

COKE

1. In many states (in the USA) the highway patrol carries two gallons of Coke in the truck to remove blood from the highway after a car accident.

2. You can put a T-bone steak in a bowl of coke and it will be gone in two days.

3. To clean a toilet: Pour a can of Coca-Cola into the toilet bowl and let the “real thing” sit for one hour, then flush clean The citric acid in Coke removes stains from vitreous china.

4. To remove rust spots from chrome car bumpers: Rub the bumper with a crumpled-up piece of Reynolds Wrap aluminum foil
dipped in Coca-Cola.

5. To clean corrosion from car battery terminals: Pour a can of
Coca-Cola over the terminals to bubble away the corrosion.

6. To loosen a rusted bolt: Applying a cloth soaked in Coca-Cola to the rusted bolt for several minutes.

7. To bake a moist ham: Empty a can of Coca-Cola into the baking pan, wrap the ham in aluminum foil, and bake. Thirty minutes before the ham is finished, Remove the foil, allowing the drippings to mix with the Coke for a sumptuous brown gravy.

8. To remove grease from clothes: Empty a can of coke into a load of greasy clothes, add detergent, and run through a regular cycle. The Coca-Cola will help loosen grease stains. It will also clean road haze from your windshield.

9:27am: So we are thinking about going as the St. Pauli's Girl and Sam Adams...any other cute couple costume suggestions?

10:37pm: I feel swollen from the pasta and chocolate cake, from the bread and oils and jasmine rice and things he cooks for me. From the PB&J sandwiches. I want to take a tub, but the water won't stay in. I want some tea in a pretty mug with milk and honey.

I've been feeling very lazy and a little sad. A bit too hard on myself. A little like I just want to be alone and a little like I can't be alone for another minute.

10:29pm:

My God-damned hippie name is Aquamarine Starlight.
Take The Damned Hippie Name Generator today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

5:17pm: Baby’s got blue skies up ahead
But in this I'm a rain cloud
You know she wants a dry kind of love
Oh oh oh, the sweetest thing


I'm losing you
I'm losing you
Ain't love the sweetest thing

10:52pm: So many men think all a girl needs is to be sold a dream.

12:22pm: Keys
Mike and I got an apartment in Lowell. It's still a commute for me, but I've been doing it for 3 years so what's the difference now, especially with the big price difference between living in Boston. It's a cute one bedroom that looks like this:

The bathroom is retro, the kitchen is new. There is more than enough space and is in a really good neighborhood from what I can tell and what Mike tells me (the Highlands). We are moving in next month.

My school is giving me a stroke over financial aid mi ups (they thought I was graduating, I'm starting to thin I should have just went with it). But I had a good cry over it last night and a meeting with someone tomorrow.
Started my copyediting class which I am such a grammar nerd and actually excited about. Started the pill -- yay no babies! yay bigger boobs! Boo mood swings! Boo gaining weight!
Tonight is writing group...I think...if everyone remembers...

8:59am: I'm still too young.
The water is ok but the quiet is not.

(I miss my friend.)

The water is fine but the cold is freezing. The stones are smooth and flat and feel so good in your palm. The drinks are all bubbly and sweet and make me dizy and confessional; someone elses hand on each hip, one shaky second. I love the beach but he hates the ocean so we are going to a desert. Bad memories can take lots away if you let them.


The water is soaking wet and the song is almost finished. Splintered pianos. Mothers full of regret and nicotine. Fathers full of cancer and mystery. The fear of disease, the disease of fear, feeding each other. The hope of children. The hope, the hope, the hope. Mama's big swollen belly makes it imposible for her to run away.

My friend is in Philadelphia, which sounds like a greek goddess, which is the city of brotherly love and I miss her.

With of fist full of secrets and pockets full of coins, with worn out running shoes. Even the rain.

11:40pm:

10:17pm: straight forward update
So Mike and I are going to look at the first apartment tomorrow. It has: off street parking, 2 blocks from Harvard Sq. T, heat and hotwater included, hardwood floors, dishwasher/disposal, and laundry in building. But it could be shitascular. Or obscenely small. But we'll see.
And all that stuff from Ikea is now off my floor and in my closet in boxes ready for the 9/1 move.

Also, I have another interview tomorrow for an internship (thanks Emily!)




So, school is done. Want to play? I have three weeks before summer classes start, but that is only through June.

Things are happening...

10:45pm: For some women, a piano could be a ring and for some, a ring could be a city. I am the latter.
Today was warm enough. I read in the garden for three hours. Summer makes me remember why I love it here. Someone had a dog that looked like a wolf and could say "I love you." A women breast fed on the bench next to me, and the baby looked at me upside down and gave a milky smile. There were tourists from Germany and tourists from New Hampshire. The trees were flowering. The swan boats go by. (This is nothing spectactular). I love the feeling of being in the quiet calm place surrounded by noise and tall buildings, it's like being in a crib. Or like when you are a little kid and hide in the middle of the circular clothing racks while your mother shops. When I was walking back to class, there was a T ball game going on in the common. The dog park was full. I love those people, the ones who are not in suits, rushing to the T or the commons garage. I love to see the people who are already home.

So, when I was going home on the red line today, I let my mind wander and it got off at porter, davis, harvard. It got off and up the stares and after a brisk walk I was home. I was climbing the apartment stairs, I was putting my key in the door. And when I went in it was dark, my hands were full with books and water bottles and I had to turn on the light with my elbow. I put my things down where I always put them. I was finally able to acheive my goal of complete minimalism, throwing out all the kitch in the move. I ate the leftover pasta with chopsticks. I took a bath and played music softly. I cleaned up after myself and the mess you made earlier. Remember that fairy tale about the cobbler? That must be what it's like for you, coming home or waking up to things clean and neat. Maybe I go to the kitchen table which is covered with my art stuff, paints and glue and things I might be able to glue onto some paintings. Maybe I'll surf the web or check my email. Maybe I'll read a poem and dog ear teh page for you to read later. Maybe it's a love poem, maybe it's not. I might call my mother, she ight talk my ear off, or, she might not be home. I'll send Blue an email and we'll set a date for dinner, or a sleepover (because women need sleepovers no matter how old they get). I might be coming down with something and make myself that lemon honey whiskey drink my mother makes that cures everything. That will make me sleepy. Or maybe I'm not sick and just have a glass of wine. That would make me sleepy too. You wake me up on the couch at two am and carried me to bed.


So this is it, this is my dream. It is so simple, it's silly. And it's close, but I can't do it myself. That's both the scary and the reassuring part. I never have really wanted to do anything by myself, I have always liked to be with someone else. My this means my dream iis a gift, not a goal. All I have are my words, I can make anything sound desirable, I can make you want it.

6:36pm:

Alise took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Over-imaginative and given to fantasy or day-dream..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

5:01pm: Make Art
http://www.jacksonpollock.org/

12:41am: This is my ghost and you can't take it away from me.

This was intimacy, and now it it public (for sale!). Upwards of 100 dollars. It WAS intimacy. It is my ghost and that is mine and no one elses, my memory is not for show or sale.
This is poetry not much better than the others. It is for show and it is for free. But not my ghost, my ghost is for one.

The ghost of a girl.

That is part of it. The other part is right here, in the flesh. Awake. Online, looking (kind of). And I don't know where to go with my hands or my thoughts and in the morning I'll forget and there should have been fair warning but there wasn't and it could have been worse and it wasn't.


Michael is driving home right now from work, I am putting on my pjs, tomorrow I am meeting Linda for breakfast and I have to wake up on time.

1:37am: I was just saying
I was touched once today, briefly, and my collarbones were squeezed and there was breath on the back of my neck and I held on to that feeling, I let it carry me through the day

11:52pm: I wish (on all those things that people wish on) that for once, I wouldn't have to do everything myself.

5:15pm: 21 tomorrow
Going to the bars at midnight!

9:31pm: some of these were pretty funny
Fortune Telling!
Put your iTunes on shuffle.
Say the following questions aloud, and press play.
Use the song title as the answer to the question.
NO CHEATING.

1. How does the world see you?
Change Clothes

2. Will I have a happy life?
Sweet Sangria

3. What do my friends think of me?
Fell in Love with a Boy

4. Do people secretly lust after me?
Pump It

5. How can I make myself happy?
Red Red Red

6. What should I do with my life?
My IQ

7. Will I ever have children?
32 Flavors


8. What is some good advice for me?
Cars and Guitars

9. How will I be remembered?
Heard 'em Say

13. What will they play at my funeral?
Love Song

14. What type of people do I like?
All I Want

9:41pm: pirate
I said, "You're a skinny fucker" and poked his hips with each of my thumbs
and he said, "Yes, but I'm not skrawny" and to prove it (I suppose)

picked me up with one arm in one fluid motion
and threw me over his shoulder which poked up under my ribs

while he spun in circles
until setting me down.

"You're a skinny fucker," he said.




I need something soft to fall into somethimes. Something that'll crush me when I want it to. Or completly envelope me. Something safe to crash into when I am going at full speed.
The cold is breaking like a bad fever. I am pretty much fine. I've got a friend in Russia and a friend on his bad side and a friend that's an old same. I've been doctoring my dreams because the real ones are a bit too telling, like drunk on wine honesty -- like, here, this is my fear! (who will take care of me?) And how I don't believe one thing that you say. What's a fear but an alternate ending daydream?
A woman is not a drum, but she can be hollow and beat on. So maybe she is. Living at this level of intensity is ehausting but it's me. (we could be john+yoko, we could be smile boxes and bed in's and peace posters) But that's not true, that's not you. That's an idea of you I have sometimes because I like to think about everyone as artsy fartsy and living with that kind of passion I don't know how else to put it. Most people wouldn't pick the piano or the paint. But I would. Belly full of organic millk, mouth of smoke, tail, sugar and spice and absolutley EVERYTHING nice. Does my kind fascinate you? Why are you here?
I can't wait to be out of school and I can't imagine not being in school. I can't imagine living here any longer and I can't imagine not living here. Ohm ohm home. Full of life and promise and blood diamonds. Full of it. I haven't felt full for years. But I am satisfied and that is healthier. It doesn't stretch out your stomach. I mean, my closet threw up and I'm crying and I can't go out, but even in the moment I know it will end, I know I will be ok. Who know my musical taste would get me friends and respect? It's like social smoking. I always knwo the right answer but never the true one. I know how to make anyone fall in love with "me" or I know what people are attracted to and I can be it for a time but eventually your time is up. So here I am raw and real and ready. Original sin slut snake sex. A hip to balance babies on. Or books. Or boys. Whatever, balance! I want to dance worse than bad, like hedonistic dance party 2006.

I didn't even tell you abotu how I went underground today under the caberet, and there was a room with a recliner and a shower that was obviously used ofter and a cardboard bo full of videos. Below that was part (the best part) of the subway, like a cave, a secret hideaway. Dirty and wet and well, cave like. The BEST part though was how we all stood there and thought about what kind of art we could do in this space. What kind of parties we cuold hold. And maybe, individually, how we acould hide, or bring someone. All the posibilites of a little piece of the world you didn't know whas there before.

6:56pm: I really want to know why everything with my school is required to be so complicated and why every time I have a question I am redirected 15 million times and that only covers half of the offices there are.
Pish.

In other news, I have an interview for an internship. yeeeees.

9:54am: I don't understand
He's been pretty much yellow and I've been kind of blue, but all I can see is red red red.
What am I gonna do?

6:17pm: I'm having daydreams about pink sand and aquamarine water, a different kind of summer than the New England kind. My skin is hot outside from UV rays and inside from big fruity drinks. My eye-lids are always half closed, drowsy from alcohol and sun. I imagine my skin goosebumping from little drips of water, someone standing over me. The sun is behind them and I shiver and squint into the shadow trying to make out of face. I say, "I want to dance" and suddenly it is night and neon and there is sweat under my arms and in a pool between my breasts. My back aches from the heels but I keep spinning and even after I stop, the room keeps making circles. In the strobe lights all I can see are bodies, and they all feel like skin and they all taste like salt.

I imagine hiding in a cave and never coming home. My hair would dred and I would eat raw fish and my feet would get so callosed, my clothes would rip. I would turn into a myth, a cave girl thing.