Not good at any job

Ew I feel so fucking gross today. My head hurts and I'm still on my fucking period. There I already swore twice. And I already got in trouble for swearing at work today at the front desk. Apparently somebody reported me, ugh. Plus I made four mistakes on the invoices I processed. When people bring mistakes to me that I made it's like I can't even believe I made them. It seems unreal. It's still unacceptable. Even though Misch told me that I fuck up because I'm not inspired to do my best, still I berate myself and wish it never happened. But I have to take the pills when I'm bleeding. Otherwise I will die. Plus the company seems to be definitely going out of business. Every business I work for here seems to fold and start laying off people a year or so into the job. These fucking places! What am I supposed to do? What am I going to do with my life?? I'm not good at anything real. I hate every job I can think of. I hate them so much I really can't even do them. I was a bad waitress. I'm a bad office worker. I don't want any real responsibility. I don't want real projects or real pressure. I just want to be left alone. I don't like meeting people or creating things for a business. I want to do a little perfectable task, but I can't even do them perfectly anymore or ever could. Then people get mad at me and I can't handle that. I can't have anyone dissatisfied with me, it drives me crazy and makes me cry. Plus I hate interviewing more than anything in the world. Plus I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE wearing dress up clothes. I don't have any! I can't walk in heels, not even short heels. I don't have a pants suit, much less more than one. I don't have a nice bag. I don't have a printer to print my resumes. I hate working on my resume. Everything on it, pointless stupid God I can't even describe how much I loathe fake fucking resumes. Then I have to meet with someone and ELABORATE ON IT???? It has nothing to do with me! Jobs have nothing to do with me. I just need one. Now this one is about to be over, and I didn't even do that great here. I don't even know how to describe what I did (do) here. I have to put it into bulletins on a resume and talk about it, in the pants suit and heels???? I want to fucking die, my head hurts. I just took a pill, pretty soon I'll be fucking more shit up. Why can't I have a job where I just read a book? I'm not qualified for anything else. I refuse to sell things. It makes me want to puke, just thinking about selling things. I'm willing to organize things for people and answer the phone, but I swear and my haircut is unprofessional. Once a headhunter told me to try to look more feminine, and I still had long hair then. Fuck! Goddamit what am I going to do. Why does this scare me so much, it doesn't seem to freak other people out. I can't be myself on an interview or in a job. I hate being fake, it feels so obvious and wrong. I also feel like I can't learn new things, but they always want people who already know how to do it anyway. What do I already know how to do? Nothing that is a job. I want to die today. It's a good thing Mischa doesn't care if I have money or am successful because I think I never will be. But I want to travel too! I want a house someday, or to buy a baby! But maybe I'll just be a fucking bum or jump in front of the train but I wouldn't do that because it's messy and wrong.

Guadalupe who burns with passion for me and all the lights everywhere reflecting this

O Mary, whose Immaculate Heart was pierced by seven swords of grief, help me to walk valiantly amid the sharp thorns strewn across my pathway. Obtain for me the strength to be a true imitator of you. This I ask you, my dear Mother. Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be ... With my heart full of the most sincere veneration, I prostrate myself before you, O Mother, to ask you to obtain for me the grace to fulfill the duties of my state in life with faithfulness and constancy. Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be... (3rd day and 8th day).

Obviously a less religious image here, our very own Grand Central terminal ceiling. Not the best photo ever taken but simply posting to demonstrate the power of lightness and fire that obviously exist in a spiritual sense in every individual, some just like a little firefly, which is a good start and way better than a total blackout, from which actually you can recover, but it depends on your karma and also your fate. If those terms confuse you and you wish to contest, please see first my proof of fate which I believe I proved a couple months ago in a short entry by that exact title.

The Vampire Angel in the bleachers and feeling anxious

The above picture was taken (as noted in title) while sitting in the bleachers of the football field at Misch's middle school, just down the block from her house. It was taken on Saturday, January 6th, the winter day that felt like fall or spring, with temperatures in the high sixties. What a strange, fantastic day! And oh, the perfect "teenager" to spend it with.


What should I order?? Oh my god I'm so hungry that I can't decide! Which has the fewest calories?? Which is the cheapest? What will be good and not gross? It's so important and what if I can't decide at all? I'm freaking out, fuck! And now she's taking pictures of me, gross, I hate her!

With my bird of love and in her nest

It's me in the New Balance! Well Mischa has, among her twenty five thousand pairs of well loved sneakers, a few pairs of NB too, but unfortunately her feet are one half size smaller so there will be no sharing of the shoes. Lately I have been overcome with urges to shop for her even though I usually hate shopping, but it's fun when you are imagining outfits on such a slammin' body. What can I say about her beauty except that I believe God created and molded her long skinny legs, angelic shoulders, arms, flat little tummy (yes flat, Mischa), and 34Cs especially for me?



Here's where Misch and I make out even though her parents are in the next room and once her mom brought us christmas cookies but thank god we were sitting upright like normal adult friends although actually normal adult friends don't hang out and "talk" on the bed in the first place. They sit in the kitchen and talk about their stupid kids or jobs or recipes or other boring things. OR worst of all, their husbands. "Oh my John won't be romantic with me at all and he's busy watching football, so I told him off, I was like, and he was like, then I was like, then little Suzy came home and wanted a snack so I was like and she was like and then John was like....."

I really hate the word "like." It makes people sound so ignorant and annoying and makes me hate them. Even though Misch says hating people is just a way for me or anyone to feel safe, I would feel safer if people would never say "like" ever again in my presence.

PS. Last night my friend told me a sad story. This asshole boyfriend of hers called her at 4:30 am from a bar and wanted to come over. He was so drunk he didn't hang up the phone when he got into the cab, and said to the driver, "I'm gonna get some pussy, yeah gotta get some pussy! Pussy!" He really said pussy three times. Instead of calling the police (which I would have done) she let him come over and just lay stiffly on the bed for the rest of the night, not letting him touch her. And in the morning, she passive aggresively avoided his persistent advances. And now she says she doesn't like him, and "won't pursue him, but I'll let him pursue me." What the fuck!? What a fucking asshole loser, he doesn't deserve her time! She's beautiful, smart, talented etc., and all he sees is an object with which to fulfill his animal urges. What a shame, oh well. Women never seem to know how to feel their own worth.

Cards

" ... He had the unlucky capacity many men, especially Russians, have of seeing and believing in the possiblity of goodness and truth, but of seeing the evil and falsehood of life too clearly to be able to take any serious part in life. Every sphere of activity was, in his eyes, linked with evil and deception. Whatever he tried to be, whatever he engaged in, he always found himself repulsed by this knavery and falsehood, which blocked every path of action. Yet he had to live and to find occupation. It was too awful to be under the burden of these insoluble problems, and so he abandoned himself to the first distraction that offered itself, in order to forget them. He frequented every kind of society, drank much, purchased pictures, built houses, and above all -- read."



" ... Sometimes he remembered having heard how soldiers under fire in the trenches, and having nothing to do, try hard to ind some occupation the more easily to bear the danger. And it seemed to Pierre that all men were like those soldiers, seeking refuge from life: some in ambition, some in cards, some in framing laws, some in women, some in playthings, some in horses, some in politics, some in sport, some in wine, and some in government service. 'Nothing is without consequence, and nothing is important: it's all the same in the end. The thing to do is to save myself from it all as best I can,' thought Pierre. 'Not to see it, that terrible it.' (War and peace)"

Killer

Yes!

...."Prince Andrei seemed, and really was, an utterly different, new man. What had become of his ennui, his contempt for life, his disillusionment? Pierre was the only person to whom he could bring himself to speak frankly, and to him he revealed all that was in his heart, now gaily and boldly making plans reaching far into the future, saying he could not sacrifice his own happiness to the caprices of his father, declaring that he would either force his father to agree to the marriage, and like her, or dispense with his consent altogether; then marveling at the feeling which had taken possession of him, as something strange and apart, independent of himself." (War and Peace)



Good News! My little Misch is not a conceited, pretentious hipster, and does not judge me for being musically ignorant whenever she knows something that I don't! Also, I think she said she will not hate me after the show on the 1st of February. Last night I started getting excited about the show because we had practice after a longish break and instead of everything sounding like shit and being in a bad mood and disagreeable or just plain sick of it or like me, self hating and not up to my own standards, it went pretty well. And all four bands requested have confirmed for the night without a problem, it's all set. And we wrote a new song at the end (actually we have over ten songs not yet developed, it's frustrating) that sounds like a club hit with some Indian chords or melodies and I sing about Mischa's damp heat and go mmmm mmmm mmm which does, I admit, sound a little like Gwen but of course way better, heh. Because like the song MK put on my mix, ain't nobody that can sing like me :) Some people in my family lately teased me because they said I sing differently now than when I was younger but really I worked hard on breathing and just opening all vowels in general and letting a natural vibrato come instead of a fake sounding one or fake phrasing or any imitation of any singer much less one like oh, say, Beyonce or something horrible like that. I sang in the cover band a couple years ago to gain confidence and also practice singing any style, I purposefully agreed to sing almost any song the boys wanted, just to see if I could cover it decently. Now DM is a whole other thing, and really seems divine to me because the spacey, dance, lounge-ish sounds allow me to stretch and minimize words which appeals to my love for condensed meaning. Now the only question is whether to wear the burka for the show. I want to. It's my one flashy idea. It's either this show or another one, I'm going to wear a burka for at least one song. I'd like to wear it for the sorry song in which I sing "cut my tongue off" and other submissive phrases to my "master" so totally fitting for the burka. But I wonder how much they cost, and if it's hard to breathe through the cloth.