rats!

Last night I had a dream that I wanted to have a birthday party but I had to clean up the house. There were a lot of things to clean up. For one, my journals and writing was laying around and covering the walls and people were reading it and laughing at me. Then I saw a rat, and then I saw more and there was a major rat problem, and they were as large as small cats. But my cat, Tatiana, was hunting them and tearing the skin off their heads and blood started soaking everything. I said, "look, she's scalping them like indians!" Then I got out a can of raid and sprayed them, and they couldn't move and died frozen. When we realized they were dead (but still trembling) I knew I had to remove them. I suggested putting them in a bag and a box, but wondered how I might pick them up and worried about how they would start to smell. Blood was everywhere. I was wiping with a blanket, then I went to wring it out and the pool table turned pink with blood. All this time I knew I needed to get on the ball with inviting people to my party, but I only invited one person over text. The party was to be tomorrow, but I wondered if maybe no one would come anyway. I don't know why I dreamed about the rats, but the blood probably has to do with the blood smeared pages of MK's 2001 journal when she was cutting herself that I was reading yesterday. And obviously I'm not too confident about the contents of my own journal. I just read my own from a few summer months in 1998. It's crazy how hard it is to really remember things. I obviously wrote it, but only remember the most general or concrete aspects. I hope when I'm senile the memories come back vividly, I don't like to lose anything that's mine like memories. I think journals are the best things in the world. I'm so glad my Mishy has kept them all her life. If only she didn't throw some away! It's funny how sometimes there are lies or denial in the journals though, like trying to like boys and confusion about it.

My best friend and #1

I wonder what that dark streak is on my face in this last one? Is it a shadow?

I wish we lived like this

Journal Swap

Michelle has been much more determined and excessive with pain than I have been. But I'm glad her first love was more like me, in that she wasn't a drug addict or self mutilator because I see that isn't what MK finds the most impressive. I think she is attracted to innocence, sweetness, and kindness more than anything else. In her journals, it seems like all she wants is to break free from drugs and to love and be loved unconditionally. I said in some ways I wish I could've met her then, to really save her, but it's better this way. Back then she probably wouldn't have even liked me because I was into country music, butch/femme roles, and in other less petty ways we just weren't ready for each other. Plus she got the chance to get her life together on her own. For a while I felt jealous of one of her exes who is a more successful singer and a former if not current alcoholic and drug user because I wondered if MK would rather be someone cool like that than a dork like me.

Last night after our argument Mishy held me and Maren, my teddy bear, and said we are a family and that helped me calm down. Today I'm just repeating it over and over in my head like a mantra. Now I'm going to get into bed with Maren and try to sleep for an hour, but not all day. Maggie just text and we're going shopping so I can try to find this stupid dress for my sister's gay wedding. It has to be blue, purple, or green. She doesn't even care which shade. I haven't worn a dress for a long time though. Last night I dreamed I was trying to get on the train or Metro north and I kept being at the wrong entrance or wrong train and having to wait another fifteen minutes, and was freaking out. Then I met these two girls and they were trying to help me, and we were in a car. But then I realized they were doing some kind of drugs. The driver was giving it to the girl in the passenger and she was snorting it. In my dream I knew it was heroin and I'm sure I dreamed this because of reading the journals. Then I saw the train coming again and I made the girl drive backwards, full speed, toward it but we missed it anyway. It was a nightmare I guess.

Happy 9 mo anny!

Dr. Schumann and Brenda

Today I am going in for my second MRI. This is for the mysterious bump on my foot. In somewhat happy to be going again, since I enjoyed the first MRI so much. It was an extremely soothing emotional experience, like being in the womb, well, a giant mechanical womb. I really like Doshi too, that's the name of the MRI company. The girls at the front desk are nice, they were sweet to me when I felt upset because I couldn't get my earrings out (and still can't) and when I left my belly ring in the bathroom and the janitor threw it away. They put you in the MRI like a sheet of cookies into the oven. The doctor puts a blanket on you and headphones with white noise so the banging and droning noises of the machine don't overwhelm, and slides you right in. You stay in there for a half hour. The first ten minutes I cried very hot emo tears. I wanted to cry earlier, after the jewelry incident, because people being nice in doctors offices makes me think they will see my problems and fix them, and I cry in anticipation and premature relief. After crying I fell asleep, and every time the noises died down I hoped they would start back up and I could stay in there. Eventually, of course, it ended. But I am going back today!

I'm going back because the results from my MRI and x-ray showed nothing. They did it "without contrast" that time and now it will be "with contrast," meaning they shoot dye into my foot. Yesterday I had an argument with Dr. Schumann about the test results over the phone. Basically, he was saying he has no idea what my problem is, but that I should calm down and not be depressed, and that I should talk to the radiologist (as if I could get him on the phone!), and come back next week. He said maybe it's a fatty tumor that will show on an MRI with contrast. I was upset because I didn't understand that my foot even has fat on it, so how could a tumor hide in the fat? Then he said, "but you don't have pain, do you?" Of course I have fucking pain, that's the whole problem! I just wanted him to be definite about something. Instead, he made references to shoe insoles. We argued about who had ordered the MRI without contrast, he said he didn't, the radiologist did. I know this decision was made before the fucking radiologist ever laid eyes on my foot, because the insurance needed to know. Anyway, I said maybe Brenda did it, his secretary. He said, leave Brenda out of this, because it's his wife. He said they're trying to help me, and acted as if I should be grateful. I said, well that's your job, and it is! Our voices were raised and cutting each other off, then I hung up on him. :( Then I scheduled an appointment with a whole new doctor at the clinic by my apartment that's run by hassids and is shabby in many ways. Then I called MK and she seemed to imply I had done the wrong thing. So I got a stomach ache and went into the bathroom to pinch my arms and rock myself.

Then Brenda called and said she had scheduled the new MRI and I apologized for ending the conversation with Dr. Schumann abruptly and she said it was okay, they understood. So here I am, going back for a second MRI and with an appointment for next week even though he yelled at me on the phone. I should mention that I was already upset at the time of this argument because Sprint stole 35 dollars from me and the customer representative told me to hold ("you'll hear a couple seconds of silence...") and then hung up on me. I wrote them a letter though and they are reimbursing me even though they won't admit that their computer system is wrong and I am right: I haven't used picture mail or the internet since I cancelled the package over a month ago. But they value me as a customer, haha.

Regarding my band, I guess we are moving forward with song writing and not dealing with the tiny problem of getting people to come to our shows. The idea seems to be, if we write better songs, they will come. In my heart I know it's not true, but I like writing songs so I'm playing along. We wrote two new songs in the last couple weeks. One is a love song, here are the lyrics:

The world is old
The world is old
But this is new
Covered up, I discovered you

And love is old
Yeah love is old
But new to me
Buried underground, you found me

So what now? What comes next?
Right now I want to know the rest
Do we move out of the city
Into a home?
Can we leave at the same time?
Will we love at the same time?
Do we want it the same time?
Want to come at the same time?

I'm letting go
I'm letting go
And feeling free
Watching people on the city street

I understand
I understand
And I believe
All the answers are inside me

Hope is dangerous
And I should avoid it; is it contagious?
I try to consume it
See if they hate us; want to get wasted
Keep it a secret
Like a best friend should, till she can't take it
Tell it the same time
Tell it the same time

PS 1

Look at how happy MK looks to be hanging out at PS 1. She came to support me as I faced the challenge of handing out fliers, which I did.


I put this picture of Brian here because I like the image, and because I like him in many ways, despite causing problems that night and other times.

Angel

Look at my angel sleeping after the night shift at the mental hospital. She's trying to sleep, but I make it difficult because I keep sending texts. I went to the Beastie Boys concert at summerstage last night in Central Park. I like a lot of the beats, but the old school rapping really isn't my thing. I danced a little to show support for my friend Maggie, who is a huge fan and who brought me along. It was very hot and sweaty. There were a lot of guys. My friend said it was the best concert she ever went to, and I'm glad she had a great time. Her boyfriend is moving out of their apartment today and the breakup is official and final.

water is emotion