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2001-07-13 || 11:20 a.m. || whine whine i think there is something sinister goin on in my brain. || my arms are three inches too long for this dreamy blue jacket i am wearing. my boobs are a little too big. when i zip the jacket up (a feat i am a bit surprised by...it's very little but does not seem to mind the hips) this funny little phenomenon happens that i like to call 'the boob shelf.' damn. i love this jacket. it reminds me of the girl on one of the softies records. but without a helmet on. i think she has a helmet on. and is standing next to a scooter. alas, there is no scooter in sight. i should mail this jacket off to my sister and be done with it. although she has long gorilla arms too. not the boob shelf problem though. but. that is neither here nor there. funny things are going on. funny as in 'very bad actually, but sometimes it seems okay, although i am very worried and will call the doctor today to get a referral to a psychiatrist.' today is the first day in a while where i am able to talk without feeling the salty tear floodgates opening up behind me. and i cannot figure out what is going on. i have been sad. and i think it is okay to be sad. because there are all these funny as in bad things going on right now: m and o are gone and i feel friendless and turning 25 (which in itself is not bad. but i have attached all these things to it that are making me very upset.) and not liking how my ass does not fit right in the favorite pants. sorry. but the ass is one of the problems. oh and bad hair. terrible still growing out to a decent length and sometimes these bangs are a good idea but damn. they are not. and feeling a bit rootless, very bad self esteem (out of control ass, bad hair, unable to write/draw anything decent.). so that makes me sad. but sad is okay. sad happens. what worries me is i am acting weird. i don't like going into stores because i don't want people to look at me. i am scared of the record store. i can't go in. i can't make my mind of anything. and all saturday i sat on my bed, robot-like, trying to think up something to do. i couldn't think of anything. so i would drive around. come home. sit on bed. look at couch. talk to cat. cry a little. drive around. come home. sit on bed. cry some more. get upset because boy was not calling. decide to walk up the street to the bookstore. but bookstores are all of a sudden to frightening to go in alone. eyes and mouths all veering in my direction. that's weird, right? i have to give myself a stern talking to to leave the apartment and most of the time i just won't listen. so that is my story. i called me mum up to tell her, to make this an Official Problem. and i forgot how unsympathetic she is, although she told me to drive home this weekend. but i cannot handle the thought of being in my car for eight hours having to think about things. i cannot handle being in the house they are packing up and leaving. i cannot handle sitting with my dad in front of the tv not saying anything. crossword puzzles and plucking out notes on his guitar and scratching my head. i feel like a robot. but not now. right now i feel good. the dreamy blue jacket has given me magic powers. i have both smiled and laughed today and have not had the urge to cry yet, right now at 11:39, which i think is the first time in a week? i can't figure it out. and the idea of anti-depressants is a very scary bad one to me. all these chemicals flyin around in the bloodstream like manic mosquitoes, prodding nerotransmitters into smiling and playing nice. hem. so. shit. and it is all so unsteady so i don't know whether to cross-stitch a nice motivational phrase like 'chin up' and frame it and hang it over my head and be done with it. but good things are happening: an old friend (a girl! there is a girl in town!) has moved in way up the hill from me, i am part of a sassy bowling squad with beautiful elka (whose hair is fabulous, by the way), last night i though up a great new idea for the zine i am working on, and. and. i am going to portland next weekend to see my boys (even though my canadian girlfriend will be nowhere in sight. i am very sad about that, miss.). okay. i am through whining. okay. hem. (confidential to beauties lucinda, cleo dawn, kim, probably elka too, and anyone i have forgotten: thank you very much for writing to me and i will write back soon, promise. you are hott.) (confidential to muffie, amy, and oona: i am going to be in portland next weekend and i would pee my pants if i got to meet you. so maybe we could organize something, maybe? i will buy you cheap beer and hold your hands.) (confidential to bay area kids: saturday night is bardot-a-go-go at 330 ritch and dammit i'm going and i want you to go too so we can all show off our spectacular dance moves. go. go. go. please. matt b you better go because you're the best dancer this side of the planet. the universe even.) xoxoxoxox love, jenny guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |