flagrant disregard

lotus/köhler- berlin wall east side gallery, germany

[pegasus hostel in berlin, germany]
it's all fine. i am spending the night in a former jewish boarding girl's school in friedrichshain which now houses one of my favorite hostels. it sits in a former east berlin district near kreuzberg, prenzlauer berg, and mitte, if you are familiar. most of my day was spent looking out the window. i transversed holland and germany, transferring at several train stations, to finally reach the destination's end in berlin.

thank god i reserved a single room in advance-- it's cold and now there is no need to wander around to secure a guest house or pension for the night. i doubt this hostel has a laundry room, and feel too shy right now to investigate, so a few clothing items have been hand washed and are draped over the heater to dry. the plan is to put a pillow to the floor and read a krakow city guide, while shivering next to the radiator in an effort to warm up.

the repainted east side gallery is right outside the ostbahnhof (east train station) and if the sleeting rain lets up there will be a few photos snapped of the murals for this blog in the morning. i am prepared to spend all of tomorrow on board a train through the grey scenery of rural poland, only to pause for a few nights in krakow. after making my way to the auschwitz memorial and majdanek exhibits in lublin, perhaps this trip will look south to budapest? not only is it undecided, but literature is unclear as to how far south one can currently travel by train. sarajevo? apparently, there is sporadic overland travel available by bus, but is it possible for me to visit bosnia independently or will this easiness get weird by the time i reach croatia?


ingeborg blumenthal- berlin wall east side gallery, germany

our little secret: this freedom is both exciting and worrisome.
note: this hostel is abusing the same bran van 3000 cd as played in november 2000.


parlo d' amor- berlin wall east side gallery, germany

traveling to milan has been booted off my list. what a relief as nothing which needs to be done there cannot be postponed. i could have attended a show while there, but a joseph arthur concert can be seen another time (without the cheap ryanair flight - bus - train - taxi obstacle course). i was also tiring of researching hotel reviews only to read details of decay, unfortunate locations, and poor service. none of the bus or train schedules managed to line up properly from milan's bergamo airport, as i was supposed to arrive late at night, and it feels good to say, "you know, i'm not going to italy. screw it." milan is tremendously grotty, anyway-- and i am notorious for proclaiming it my least favorite city in the world.

the art reception in holland was rescheduled for december 14th, but the airline ticket back to los angeles departs on december 10th. i need to reserve flights and then change my ticket if expecting to view the photography and pick up the relevant exhibit art catalogue. will i desperately need to return home by december 10th or can i manage illness alone for those extra days? right now i can't tell.

exhausted already, and acting as though the backpack weighs 40 pounds, but this adventure just started. it has only been one and a half days into this trip and, how odd, i have been to two different bomb threatened ikea stores-- one in sliedrecht, holland, and one here in germany. it's funny what travelers do to kill time with other travelers. we walked around and looked at the same lamps we can buy on our own continents. (a news monitor in the city announced possible terrorist threats at ikea stores in europe, and proceeded to name the dutch and then german location.)

yesterday afternoon, having found out the art reception and book signing had been canceled, i walked around a rural holland town with a young man and his dog. he talked my ear off about photography and the lithprinting process while showing me the locations of where most of the portraits in the a. somebody, strijen, holland book were shot. we also accepted several invitations for afternoon tea and sat for lunch with town officials. i am now privy to the smallest pieces of history that were made in and around the small village of strijen.


pegasus hostel room- berlin, germany

very strange, i was in this berlin hostel exactly two years and five days ago.
it was the frederick's hostel back then.
same room... same spider, i think.

[layne house- london, england]
i don't know anymore
what it's for
i'm not even sure.
if there is anyone who is in the sun
will you help me to understand?
because i've been caught in between
all i wished for and all i need.
maybe you're not even sure
what it's for
any more than me.
- joseph arthur

next:
- cheapo easyjet flight from london to amsterdam.
- journey by train to rotterdam, holland.
- corbijn photography exhibit and reception in strijen, holland.
- afterwards, spend all day overland to berlin, germany via train.

[los angeles]
my brother has not-so jokingly convinced motherfigure that i function as an international drug smuggler to support myself, thus, any e-mail sent home tonight will not go over well. the note should state how i previously neglected to mention this upcoming trip to europe, and how my flight has already departed by the time the note is read. my family doesn't believe i deal in drugs, but they don't fully 'not' believe it, either. my dad insists i must do something illict, but his idea verges off towards sex and the idea i keep multiple affairs.

nothing has had the nerve to try to interrupt this trip, so anxiety abounds and bounces off of the walls. perhaps i should distract- just stay home and water persephone the plant. it is winter and her leaves could use the attention. calm down. nothing will happen overseas which i cannot handle. what is wrong with me? i have errands to run but appear to be spinning in time-- this recumbent bike used as a computer chair -- my alternative version of a hamster wheel. if opting for an ephedrine stack, my butt will get out of this seat but the afternoon is apt to be spent cleaning or frantically rearranging the house. dishpan hands stem from swallowing too much ephedrine and caffeine rather than purposely acting out the role of suzy homemaker.

laundry... packing the suitcase... my hair color needs updating... a shopping trip should be taken to best buy for the purchase of a digital media card and extra packages of camera batteries. what else do i need? travel-size plastic bottles. i don't know. the thing most needed is to 'not' prepare.

shopping should not be overwhelming or panicked, but while worrying about it, the telephone rang and offered a snippy woman's voice on the other end of the receiver. she, a director or busybody, thought it would be a GRAND idea for me to spend this afternoon baking twelve dozen low sugar cookies for a local retirement home. certainly i will find time to be everyone's everything... but i would swear that only twelve people live in that senior community--? must struggle to keep that question inside my mouth. low sugar cookies? diabetic cookies? i have a stockpile of extremely high calorie recipes for the purpose of secretly fattening up unsuspecting people. might the elderly instead like a box of black and white cookies from bea's bakery? a poster on chowhound.com once suggested that if in tarzana, one should try to seek them out as they can be quite a hit.

...back to the obsession. i will forget to pack something- even though i never forget anything, ever. there are three days which fall in the middle of this trip have they have purposely been left wide open to test out spontaneity. right this minute, in the safety of my own home, that free time is exciting nerves because i NEED to know in advance. what will happen? where will i go? where CAN i go? will travels take me to sweden, hungary, or will schedules make it possible to take a train or bus to kosovo? how to reverse the racing anxiety brought on by spontaneous days to relaxing and peaceful? free time- i should like to learn how to love an unscheduled day.

eating disorder issues: i didn't eat yesterday since there was no food in the house and invalid friend had neither visited nor forced the issue. today, the 'eating disorder refuses' to eat due to future airline flights and discomfort of transportation. [consider the psychological issue of carrying food around inside of my body. i flat out refuse to eat on the flights as the anorexic rules of restriction turned back to 'must take the tray of airline food to appear normal, but must never disrupt any item.' for awhile i was trying to at least accept the tray and try to eat one item- not now.] after restricting food and finally arriving at the hotel late in the evening the following day, i will still not succumb to calories. why force fate and potentially awake the morning of an art reception with a face broken out from allergies? very dizzy trumps itch or an irritated stomach. sunday morning in berlin i can pick out an edible at the market in zoo-station---

ten minutes were just spent considering the potential safe food choices and in formulating a food plan. specific foods worked out on perfect previous european trips, but i distracted myself with condescending thoughts... of the schlotzky's deli which was recently built at checkpoint charlie... whether or not there will be aromatic german bakery concerns... i just confirmed the train departing from berlin (which will take me to krakow) does not depart from zoo station- it goes out of berlin's sausage schloss ostbahnhof. another worry, more stress- because i know a safe food specific to the zoo station market. perhaps i should pack protein plus sports nutrition bars? no! no! that would be cheating. ach, schade! the abrupt lack of safe food is potentially a big deal... shake the obsession relating to the negative aspects of globalization... i can't... the schlotzky's restaurant, as you are now leaving the american sector and are crossing the street to shop at the gap, seems so wrong but what can you do when it's a mcworld?

log off, this trip will be fine.
balancing anorexia and strength for a few weeks will be fine.
the only one out to hurt me, is me.

so unless the victim of a crime--
if someone pulls a mugging
it will be fine.

[hate the perpetual 'trying to convince myself' routine]

surprise: ten years of anger.
found: new attitude.
a thief would lose teeth.

next: flight departs los angeles to london.

things never make me happy.
tangible good cannot fix my distress.
"to make you feel better," they always say.
"to eliminate your depression," they hope.
what i am searching for will never be bought.
why is this not obvious to people who keep reaching?

bad mood.
bad mood.
bad mood.
THE DOOM.
- bunbury bought me an expensive car.
- it feels like faster version of the end of the world.
this is backwards, isn't it?

two cars
one parking space
consider: street parking?
not on your life.

the last two times that i parked on the street, my former car (which was totally paid off) was in an accident. this happened twice in the same week. the first time another driver sideswiped it while attempting to make a right turn. a few days later, and moved to a different location, a distracted driver plowed into it- jamming it into another car and halfway pushing it over the curb. the force was so great that the car stereo had popped itself loose and was found sitting in the driver's seat.

bunbury was surprised at the backlash stemming from his purchase. the enormous fight. does he not know me? i like the argument between having all or nothing but don't often accept the physical excess. i wouldn't want enough for someone without to gawk, wish, disdain, or point.

what am i supposed to do with this car? i leave for europe tomorrow. should i search online for a garage to rent and then find a way to sign a lease in a few hours? invalid friend chuck was seeking storage for his sporting goods and tools (bicycle stuff) and he was receiving quotes of up to $400 to rent a little 6' x 6' room in encino... and i don't have time or desire for this stress.

okay, fine.
you know, this is not my problem.
this is probably my problem.
this is not my problem!

i didn't say i didn't want the car, or like the car... it's just not... not now, okay? i just started a trial of life outside of my comfort zone. yes, i hate my oldbutnew car but bought and paid for it. i went out, got dressed, dealt with those jerks, and bought it. it was a very big deal. i don't have relationships built up where i can call people and rent their driveway space for two weeks. there is still a lot of normal life left to get which is why this car "right now" is not a good thing.

>> e-mail: you are fucking spoiled.

if you've read the blog, you are already well aware of my level of spoilage and since i am the one with a car parked on the street, you need not point it out. i know you're kidding, dear reader, but i'm not: this isn't the first time this has happened to me.

after checking in for a flight online and finding that the computer system for northwest airlines has stuck you in an middle seat in coach, telephone one of their customer service representatives and ask, "how many platinum elite members are sitting in the main cabin. why hasn't my upgrade cleared?"

another dysfunctional system- recently i have had to call the 'secret elite line' prior to every flight to confirm a place on the upgrade list, but usually receive a new seat assignment on the spot. what is the draw to northwest airlines after reaching platinum elite status? have you flown on northwest? one round trip to europe in an economy class seat should be all one needs to endure to make status. northwest airlines, singapore airlines- this could be the difference between day and night. northwest is going the way of a low cost carrier, which is sad because they are the only brand flying a codeshare with mesaba into the ice shanty airports of minnesota.

honestly i don't care about the upgraded seat, but out of health, have been making myself get exactly what i am entitled to whether wanting it or not. this way i have my own choice as what to do. consider how anorexia is a response to restricted expression. when people make decisions for me, or, take what is my choice, the eating disorder functions to thoroughly eliminate myself from the situation. what is the difference in first class anyway, real silverware for a meal i must refuse? i could enjoy real silverware at home if i were to use it- who cares? 'anxiety' and 'introversion' wouldn't have accepted a middle seat, and by accepting elite status (upgrades, checking in online) i can show up closer to boarding time. traveling on thanksgiving day- domestic designated areas of the airport will be packed with travelers, but international concourses will echo. i may know one of the first class flight attendants for the los angeles to minneapolis route. hmm, how to potentially avoid a familiar person who can see your name on a passenger manifest when stuck in an aircraft?

it's only 630A and already chuck has had the riot-act read to him regarding the new cell phone. do not ever, take a no from someone who is not allowed to say yes when it is concerning me.

"t-mobile needs to contact you at a land line phone to confirm your international service." [he said.]
"why?"
"because." [he said.]
"they can e-mail me."
"no they need to contact you at a land line phone."
"they can e-mail me. it's called customer service."
"they need a land line phone."
"what if i don't have a land line phone?"
"uh."
"see. tell them they will e-mail me this morning with the confirmation number and tell them they will find a way to do that. every single person in that goddamn phone store is wearing a text capable, e-mail enabled, top of the line phone- don't take no from them either."

no way am i sitting around my house all day waiting for someone to not call me. what, i have nothing to do, on this, the day before departure?

designer leather luggage. tri-band world phone. no one's going to call me. i refuse to give out my number, so why an expensive cell phone? this fussy luggage, someone is going to kill me or knock me down and snatch it. purchased just for the blake's hotel, you know. prissy fucking place. leather luggage will not go over real well in the always vegan-filled hostel i booked for a night in berlin.

i don't want to go anywhere.

oh my god it is currently 60 degrees colder in poland than it is here. why am i traveling again? i am still exhausted from the last time and the time before that and i have yet to unpacked so that i can pack for this trip. this is the dumbest, self-indulgent life possible. there are too many choices and right now i am in pre-anxiety mode and the ephedrine caffeine aspirin stack i took this morning is still active. i don't know where i will be going or doing or sleeping but some of it is written down except for half of the days that i cannot plan. this is the entire point of the trip: open time, loosen the anxiety, tend to food. how is this for overindulgent: in a few cities i have more than one flight booked so i can choose as i go. "i'm in europe and i'm cold." what else is new? is that all i write? ah crap, i should instead go to darwin, australia or borneo or somewhere interesting and rent a 4x4... see dunes while accidentally running over jellyfish. i have to go to palau and zanzibar before i die and since i am probably dying in march i should start thinking about zanzibar. zanzibar is warm.

i am not even on the plane yet and already cold, annoyed, and bored- not really scared. i just don't want to do this because it is an awful lot of work and a terrible amount of time spent wearing clothes, dealing with too much ocd... i hate that. maybe i should stay home and instead drive around since there is no place to park my car.. you know, burn a few cds, go out driving... soda and stop signs. damn.

so looking at my itinerary, what is so screwed up with me that i have to do all of this...? nobody else does this. my mom and i only went two inches on this map but i have to go like seven this way, and then nine that way and maybe to scandinavia and then get on a plane to here and there and back and i wouldn't mind staying home and romanticizing the old mental illness for a week. seriously, is freezing in bratislava and being sharked by italians really all that better for me than throwing up an apple pie and then going to bed? whatever. it never matters. i've become a changed person but don't think enough time has gone by to have anyone believe in a difference. last month i was concerned with why i couldn't adopt the 'whatever' and 'screw you' attitude because it would help me a little bit... now it seems that i am receiving whatever i ask for which is what made me really sick in the first place.

- a british rock music magazine.
- some bubble bath that doesn't promote itching.
- a lock on the door.

see, these are perfect gifts and all found for under $10.

recently i woke up old but would never had remembered until bunbury reminded me, "happy birthday, flagrant. i bought you a car."

this has been a running joke for years. last year he said the same thing on the predicted wrong day and then presented me with a little hot wheels toy car in the same color, make, and model as the vehicle i currently own. the joke old, tired, and i already have too many toys stored in a chest at my house.

> happy birthday, flagrant. i bought you a car.
mm-hmm, i don't want any matchbox cars and anyway you are so wrong.
"i'm not joking. it's drivable."
great.

yep, that's me trying to hold my excitement at the thought of, well what could it be this year, a new radio controlled hummer? some things i could do without. the guys in my life tend to give me gifts that they like: food, underwear, dj cases, or sporting goods. maybe i could use another hard plastic dinosaur from the kay-bee toy store but i haven't told anyone because i will end up with too many so i play along about the car:

"no you didn't."
"you'll like it."
"can i physically get inside of the car and drive it?"
"yes."
"is it or will it be titled in my name?"
"yes."

well damn, what is going on here? i only talk about a few cars: the geeky volkswagen gti in BLACK, a porsche 911 gt2 (which i will never own) in an arctic BLUE, or the new mini cooper-s which i don't know enough about to have formed a loud opinion. bunbury is holding a car key with a BLUE ribbon. i am a sore loser and jokingly say, "so you basically bought me another insurance payment."

i'm gracious... thankful (?) and nice even though this is going to cause so many more problems. i wish people wouldn't interfere. two other incredible things happened to me at the shopping mall, but funny situations at the t-mobile kiosk and the video store are hardly interesting after bunbury's little ploy to brand the words sex slave on my forehead this morning with that car key.

so far this has been one strange but exceptional day.

i need opinions on what car to buy. it must be good but not phenomenal and incredible but not unfathomable. also give me a good kick in the head because the weekend before thanksgiving, which is the weekend everyone travels, is NOT the best time to suddenly become obsessed with the fact that i need new luggage.
note: my luggage is perfect, and totally fine... but just wrong.

nine months ago my life was a desperate crisis and i neither had the ability nor the desire to leave my home to tend to myself. i had been lingering in a state of it doesn't really matter for years because i was being taken care of financially but i wasn't getting necessarily better or worse. i was very bored, rigid, angry, and i knew it wasn't going to change unless i died, was medicated, or got it together. the stagnant state was that i couldn't even telephone to make a doctor's appointment, let alone arrive at the doctor's office. i decided to see what would happen if i seriously made every effort possible for one year to do better- knowing i could always turn back and be worse if i wanted to be. i have allergies and do not tolerate most medications so i am doing this unassisted. in three days i'm going to the other side of the world and i have it set up perfectly with a thousand chances of disaster waiting for me. something will happen whether it be a missed connection along the way or merely a fashion disaster at a celebrity party. i'm going to have to deal with it and take care of myself but i'm not concerned. there is no question whether or not i'm going to be able to get out of my home and get to the shuttle bus and start this journey- i'm more concerned with if i'm going to get everything i want out of the next two weeks. i'm doing over-the-top things because i need over-the-top results and i knew when i started this that baby-stepping it to the grocery store and teaching myself to buy grapes wasn't going to help me near as much as dropping myself in a foreign country with nothing but some money and ticket home a week later. the first time i did this took a lot of effort from me- it took me four days of driving and trying to successfully arrive at the bank to withdraw the cash for the trip. this upcoming trip's bank run didn't even warrant a mention in the blog.

specifically what am i doing? a musician asked me to come see him at some of his shows and i am the big sucker when it comes to any rockstar's attention. there is another art reception in the netherlands to attend and it will be uncomfortable and weird because i only know two people there, the artist and his agent, and they will be preoccupied. i promised to give two days of my life to a haughty photographer as long as it was in spain, so i travel to barcelona where i will face some body issues. i am also forcing myself to take the train for three days from amsterdam through berlin to krakow and lublin which i will not complain about because it will bring me to the gates of a bleak winter auschwitz and the majdanek state museum. it can't all be excess and fun. while there i can finish up some research for a film project which i have been putting off for a long time.

take the mta (los angeles city bus) to the intersection of sepulveda and ventura boulevards. utilize a second city bus to arrive at the los angeles international airport transit center at 'lot c.' hop on one of the lax shuttles to arrive at terminal two. board a northwest airlines flight to arrive at minneapolis st. paul international airport. connect on a second northwest airlines flight to arrive at detroit metro airport. hurry, scurry, perhaps run through the new terminal to board the final northwest airlines flight to london gatwick airport.

easily spend up to an hour in the gatwick customs and immigration queue.

board a blaze orange colored easyjet lcc flight to amsterdam schiphol airport. simply enter the netherlands with merely a nod from authority. buy a ticket and board a train to arrive at amsterdam's centraal station. walk over romantic cobblestones to the jordaan district of the city. accept automobile. drive south for an hour to the city of rotterdam. perform not-so-urgent pre-business business. drive another hour to return to amsterdam hotel. stop. rest.

that is merely an illustration of day one.
right, you envy me.
'coz it's europe.
supposedly romantic if read while a time card is punched.

consider flying nonstop from los angeles to amsterdam on klm. uh, no. see, as a northwest worldperks airline miles whore, i need to endure multiple connections to accumulate additional frequent flyer miles.

i don't want to do anything.
nothing. NOTHING.
i said: NOTHING.
my bones hurt too bad to get in THE BED let alone stay in THE BED.
it is too loud, too quiet, the lights are too bright but i am squinting to see anything because it is too dark in here. it's freezing but i am sorta hot.
it's one of those days.
you would think that living in los angeles would mean having a decent travel agent within a short distance of my home- no. there is nothing here and if there is, it closes early and no one can ever locate adequate parking so it doesn't matter. i can't find drive-thru sushi let alone the three railpasses that i need. way to wait to the last minute. oh, shut up.

when usually it's Nothing
surely you're happy
It should be this way ?

anxiety.
anxiety.
anxiety.
anxiety.
disorder.

i did not spend any time with my three fingers down my friend's mouths but i did spend an awful lot of time purging them. if i felt that they had hurt me with words or actions, i would hurt myself better, harder, faster... and then i'd let them know or see... and then i'd dwell on it. one pain takes away the other and i was going to be in charge of my hurt- not someone else. maybe i am getting somewhere because i am embarrassed that i have done that and feel shy about writing it down.

there were days i could not get an adequate amount of hurt. the days i wasn't hungry led to those belts, welts, and 11 by 13 inch dented and bulged yellow bruises and it still didn't hurt enough.

i used to throw people away.
i still do a little: a little bit of this, a little bit of that.

i would throw away people's possessions: a videotape, a book, a suit...
your birth certificate? how do i know where that is?

collectable record collections can be replaced but i can never purchase what i lost, therefore i lost more. so i win. so i lose.

the more i thought about it, the simple fact that i couldn't replace what i was losing, the worse it got:
an entire life of photographs, old letters and cards...
a credit rating.

people are amazed that the monster has somehow been caged.

clarification: i am specifically booking mostly international hostels on this trip due to the 'bathroom situation' rather than the personal contact issue. usually a hostel has a shower/wc combination on each floor rather than en suite. i am not going to make myself sick in a public bathroom down the hall from my room- i'm just not ever doing that and do not want the option to fail. i am not really purging now, but am having that split-second thought that i wrestle with daily. on the other hand some of the hostels, particularly in germany and the netherlands, cost just as much if not more, than a last minute discount booking at a four star hotel so i am not choosing all hostels all of the time.

i'm not depressed enough to blog.
my life is basically only about booking european hotels:

amsterdam: my not-so favorite blake's or hotel de filosoof.
rotterdam: the bilderberg parkhotel i stayed at last week with motherfigure.
berlin: my favorite hostel is closed?!
krakow: someplace quite inexpensive- i hope it has beds.
barcelona: i don't know yet.
milan (i hate milan i hate milan i hate milan.)
london: k-west is about the cleanest i can find.

oh, frankfurt too... but what if i go to salzburg to watch morten harket sing.
it is taking six days and i only have six more days to go before i leave but it's hard to decide on a place when i don't know what kind of a-list or classless situation i am going to be enduring.

random insanity: my vacuum cleaner is broken. again. this means that my new vacuum cleaner will be the fourth vacuum cleaner that i've had in the year 2002. i can deal with two, because my hair is long and destroys them all, but four? i need something to do the night of december 9th in london... a band? a show? see, i can't blog... told you.

my parents just sent me an e-mail telling me that they spent the weekend canning cranberries but before my eyes glazed over i spotted the sentence:
let us know what gift certificates you want for your birthday.
wicked grin
hmm...
you know i don't have the guts but i have a few choice replies.

i am over my limit on my new visa credit card... gasp.
this has never happened to me before... wheeze.
yesterday i left the house to buy a new cell phone and ended up at ikea where on impulse a new chair was purchased. i really needed a new jacket, shoes, and luggage but opted for new bamboo plants, soil, and scented candles.
punishment = allergic reaction to the candles.
i never spent a dime staying indoors.
well except for that.
random fact: not throwing up nightly is saving me approx. $45 a day

if i would simply stop trying to arrange my trip to fit in with other people's plans, and also accept the fact that barcelona doesn't have the same price point as bangkok, things might start to go better. when i finally admit that my version of a budget trip in europe will call for accommodations costing more than $10 per night, progress may actually be made. i love traveling in south east asia because it is so cheap that i feel a lot of freedom in making on the spot decisions. if my $10 per night guest house in thailand is undesirable, so what? move on. if my $400 per night hotel in spain is horrible, i would suck it up and remain uncomfortable. traveling in europe is much more expensive, which screws with my financial obsessions, and therefore, requires too much research. my decision needs to be perfect because i won't allow myself to accept a large cancellation fee.

money is such an obsessive compulsive headache all of the time, but the restriction functions to build a bank account, and is therefore determined to be okay.
i do not want to waste they money to stay at an expensive hotel. even though these businesses pride themselves on comfort, it's uncomfortable for me. you know, come late at night, i want to paddle down to find bottled water in my socks and over sized sweater-- i don't want to have to act or fumble for mascara. i get stuck in my suite at those nice hotels, and plasma television or not, it is not what is best for me.

i think i'm doing myself a favor by booking hostels for most of my trip even though their low cost cannot balance the crazy nightly rates of the hotels i will book "to please other people." a studio suite at k-west in london? one aldwych? should i book a hempel apartment? will there ever come a time that i thwart other people's opinions and act on my own wishes? i don't need luxurious linens, trend, snobbery, or finely milled soaps. what i do need is warm place in central krakow for three nights, a convenient hotel for two nights spent in milan, and a very safe room in barcelona that doesn't have 'arts' in its name.

home mailbox = FEAR

1) well dressed people coming from or going to work. i stay home all day therefore must look like a slob plus on some days the obsessive compulsive disorder makes me wear oversized clothes that don't touch. a home based or mentally ill wardrobe cannot be particularly attractive especially if i have been barricaded indoors and the clothes have freckles of vomit.

2) each mailbox displays our particular unit number and i don't want to get caught checking the mail and have anyone know where i live.

3) even if nobody is around, there is still a chance of getting caught by the mailboxes because the mailbox area leads to the swimming pool and the elevator.

4) mail perpetually feels like impending doom even though i am starting to lead a regimented life that cannot lead to inevitable doom.

mailbox rental = DREAD

1) the substantial amount of mail i receive is entertainment for the worker bees at the mailbox rental counter and wouldn't one think that by now those people would have tired of laughing about someone receiving a lot of mail? that's what the mailbox rental is for, isn't it?

2) the mailbox rental counter staff tries to engage me in conversation trying to catch hints at my occupation in an effort to understand why my slot receives so many packages.

3) if i go there after hours, i feel like i am breaking into the place.

do you know what model number cell phone you have or do you just know what brand you carry? i have returned to the land of the living and it is getting impossible to live without any form of telephone. no phone, my family thinks it means i have blown through all of my money. my friends think i don't have a phone because i have secured contracted fashion work with great companies and "can't be bothered."

oh please.

the only people who know the truth are the six people who read this page: i used to be too shy to go to the mailbox to send the bill or ran out of stamps and could not get to the post office so eventually my service ran out. the bill was not in my name to begin with which makes it easier to avoid- it's not my credit rating.

anyway i need a tri-band phone. i mention this to people and suddenly i'm on mars and people are speaking in alien tongues to me about the symbian technology of the new sony p-series or the nokia something or other. i just need a phone that works in very mainstream european localities about eleven times a year without some enormous credit deposit. it has to work out near joshua tree national park, up the 101 freeway to santa barbara, and it has to receive a strong signal in the topanga area of the west valley.
all for $39.99/month with nationwide long distance.
that's it.
i don't want a $1000 phone with a camera attachment that plays a generic form of space invaders. (i've borrowed a worldband telephone this last week from a friend and this thing has dumb videogames programmed inside it.) i don't know if i'm going to be a real nerd if i buy the ersatz tri-band motorola v66 or v60.
shhh... it's free after rebate... hmmm, what about t-mobile or cingular?

that's my sunday: driving chuck to work and researching gsm phones.

get your butt over there to ryanair. they are giving away free flights and i just booked a round-trip ticket from frankfurt hahn to barcelona for under .02 cents. after taxes it was still under $20. since a few of the other low cost carriers are fare matching, i nabbed a 14.00 euro flight back to london gatwick on easyjet and this fare isn't on one of the potential british airport security strike days either.

... or i could go home to northern nothingness for turkey festivities and see the old wonderful winter wonderland consisting of perfect small town imagery. i hate it there and hate visiting at any time other than an obvious holiday. what if someone saw me pass through minnesota at any other time of the year? they would think i never left. it will be deer hunting season so there will be dead deer strapped proudly across the roofs of cars and large antler racks displayed out from the tailgates of trucks. i remember a house along the highway that always had five or six bucks hanging from a tree in their front yard but we always kept ours in the garage because of the potential bears and coyotes. all of this is or was totally acceptable.

stutter... thrashing around the woods to scare off the coyotes, tracking deer by following the trail of blood with my father as it got dark... skinning deer at midnight in the garage.

i am so far away from where i came from. luckily my thanksgiving this year is going to be filled with airport connections and some empty terminal rushing around. i've flown internationally on thanksgiving day three years in a row and the crowds are all stacked in the domestic terminals.

a little boring... more clock watching than people watching and the airports always broadcast the football game- a somewhat quiet day.

according to blake's hotel in amsterdam, my new name is mister twisten. i would like to think they would stop doing that since they now have the credit card guarantee with the correct name and gender.

flagrant: "do you offer fireplace suites?"
blake's hotel: "no but we can offer you windows which open outwardly."
note: remember it's november.

the amsterdam hotel suite at blake's has been arranged. on to figure out a london shelter now, but this is obviously the wrong hotel search engine to use:

suite with one king bed – high 4 poster bed
double height ceiling - 9 windowed
sitting area view to zen inspired garden
Rates are Exclusive of VAT tax
Price information Mon, 9 December 2002 USD$ 2,061.54

.54 cents?
ah, currency conversion.
they also have minimalist rooms for $402.67.

i either brag or act shocked:
"well you're not staying there," said chuck.
"you have to stay there," said bunbury.
"you're staying at a hotel?" the other friend asked.

followed by:
"i'll be here going to work everyday on the bus- three buses."
"which celebrity is paying for this?"
"no... you're staying with me, right?"

two nights of paying for hip hotels in london and amsterdam will completely break my plans for the year. why do i have to deal with image? the rest of this two week jaunt can be managed at the lowest level as long as rooms are clean and without infestation. the artist who wants me to stay with him at his dungeon in west london has his bedroom suite in his basement and if you combine his kookiness with my strung-out anxiety you get lots of thoughts of bondage, blue cellophane wrap, strange hanging contraptions, and blood. just a thought-- except whenever i visit the sense is that i am being recorded. he probably believes he has a deep dark secret - something lame like ayurvedic spa indulgences, or phoning his parents everyday - but i think he is vastly different than projected.

amsterdam, holland: the city lacking enough adequate hotel suites.

i have a stipend and two weeks to the day to find a room but all of the singles in hostels even appear to be snatched up already or have the compulsory two or three night weekend booking requirement. booking a double room in a hostel, because the singles are full, costs a fortune compared to anywhere else. i can consistently get the amsterdam marriott leidseplein through priceline.com but i don't want to pay much money for a room that might not be used if i stay out all night.

oh look, superpasse blakes hotel is having a winter promotion of less than half of the price of what it cost just two weeks ago.

i never know what to do.
not happy in a $1250 upstairs - downstairs suite in amsterdam.
not happy in a grotty $8 hostel in istanbul.
the marriott leidseplein is ok but it cost $20/hour for internet.

i just want something marriott-like with the priceline cost.
+ free internet
+ individual heating controls
+ airport shuttle
+ a reservation that cancels itself
+ a little hot water kettle so i can hibernate with soup and watch bbc world news and i could find this anywhere else.

the quirky and enlightened philiosopher's "hotel de filosoof" near vondelpark might be alright but i neither have room for gay-friendly goethe in my satchel nor will be spending much time there.

note: things must change.

since tony pierce wonders if i might not be female at all and i may be a three hundred pound guy, let me say that northwest airlines now has me by the balls and it is fairly uncomfortable. my airline frequent flyer miles just posted and now i sit merely 7000 miles away from reaching another level in elite mileage classification. AARRGGHHH!! damn damn damn, i can't let this pass me by and must earn those butt-in-seat miles by december 31st.

> keep it in.

i don't want to and nobody is here so why not?

> because you said you wouldn't throw it up.

but you bought rice. i don't like rice. rice is like a thousand pieces of little lice lives inside of my stomach crawling up to my mouth and i can't think of anything except rice=bugs.

> rice is safe.

apparently not. anyway i do NOT want to carry this rice around with me.

> well i don't want to throw up rice because i'll be hoarse for two days.

but it's easy, it's right at the top.

> mm-hmm.

you'll sleep better. you know it will knock you out.

> eh.

i mean, you ate cold condensed cream of chicken soup out of the can with a plastic spoon. you cannot spend or waste your calories on that, can you? the rice wasn't even cooked all of the way and the little pizza was half frozen- that wasn't considered food. that was crap and you don't have to keep it in and you are allergic to most of it anyway.

> this wasn't purge food!

i know! great! a lower than what was normal purge means tomorrow your numbers will be even lower.

> but i don't really care.

you care.

i don't know where i have been, but i was well behaved.

i see my eyes are shallow stones
in a prison made of bones
wrapped in a bag of skin
highlighted by the lines of repetition
that all my fear's been carving...
- joseph arthur

i just got back from the grocery store with what seems to be enough food for three anorexics but just enough for chuck's pre-meal snack. microwave pizza, three white chocolate cookies, brown rice, and a can of campbell's low sodium soup. i must honestly be hungry because i couldn't read the prices that were listed on the grocery store shelves and i felt as though i could only think up to three feet in front of me. oh my god, now what? my microwave is so disgusting from these slobs that have taken over while i was away.

famous photographer friend has been drinking.
"are you home?"
"yes."
"let's go shoot now."
note: it's dark.
"hurry up."

it's cold, dark but the set-up lighting is harsh, and the ocean is loud. i am miserable, wearing virtually no clothes, and bored spectators who are lingering are trying to look like they are walking by.

heavily accented photographer says: "i can show beauty but i cannot explain it so you are going to have to work a little for me."

i have neither rush hour nor stressful deadlines and work about 60 hours a year but have the world's worst job.

what town or day or month is it? with my flight back to los angeles, i have reached another premium level of frequent flyer status- that i know. checking my online mile balance before even checking e-mail last night, i noticed that piss poor northwest airlines has again screwed up and posted miles to my account for the flights last week to amsterdam and istanbul! those flights were mileage redemptions, flown for the cost of tax, and therefore ineligible for mileage accrual. northwest did this last year when i went to bangkok- there was a double mile promotion and they twice gave me double miles one trip. it appears obvious that there is a discrepancy on my mileage history and even though i have informed them by letter and email, those illegal miles remain. other people would probably scream for this luck.

i returned home from europe last night. during the last month i have flown round trip to europe and back three times- sidetracking to asia/middle east during one of those jaunts. within the next two weeks i will return to england, the netherlands, germany, poland, spain, and who knows where else? i may have lost my mind, and certainly will kill myself if seeing the bank balance, but the vomitometer has been off for about a month. that's probably all that matters. in total, i have spent less on these travels than a day treatment program or a stay in an inpatient eating disorders clinic would cost.

not during the trips but on the flight home, i had urges:
- to make myself sick.
- to bludgeon that certain someone with a baseball bat.

i have to get out of here quick, if only to consider how to change my life at home. it's overwhelming to contemplate moving, or to make a decision to seriously sign the mortgage papers. one or the other-- the choice is the hardest decision and has too many questions. how can i allow myself to write a check for a 20% down-payment on a home? i don't know where i will go. i don't want to stay here in hell just because i am too scared to go through all of the motions. perhaps i am lazy. how could i take apart the bed and entertainment center and haul it to a new home all by myself? it is a big deal to change homes, but it is a feeling of... excitement? ... happiness? ... something other than panic?

it may be fine if the obsessiveness will allow me to shop. i need two oversized black thermal turtleneck shirts, some travel-sized woolite, chemical handwarmers, and a smaller travel bag. i could get over these food problems if i left tomorrow. i need to get over this because it is much better without it... looking better, feeling better. people are looking at me again- trying to catch my eyes. i had recently stopped for a second to look at the u-bahn subway sign in munich and when pulling out my map, three business-attired men in under 30 seconds wanted to help me. it's going back to the way it was. people at the airport are talking to me, sitting next to me and trying to start conversations... things have radically changed with the way i carry myself and no longer is there reason to be an outwardly unapproachable monster.

rule: it is weak to eat. trying to eat points to the fact i am weak. i have been training myself for years to endure and i told myself that people who got better either were never really sick with an eating disorder to begin with, or they just couldn't hold on any longer-- this is what others will think of me if i ever start to refeed. so many ingrained thoughts are left to change. the best revenge is the result- to be the healthy but underweight girl who can eat the ice cream cone, so to speak. this will be scads better than the thin girl who was starting to become sharply unattractive in body and personality and who could not handle it.

in turkey i lost weight. it happened from freezing while trekking around and also just by processing food. i mentioned in an earlier "foreign keyboard" post that i fell down a cliff, but never had time to mention how i ended up ripping the one pair of pants i feel comfortable enough to wear outside of the house.

new clothes + clothes sizes = numbers hell and ocd.

they were black trousers, now with a nice little slice at the knee which cannot be mended without causing more eye-catching damage. i didn't know what to do because i returned home from amsterdam/turkey to almost immediately fly to germany and there was not enough time to order new pants online- there are never small enough sizes in extra long lengths sold in the shops. i have 498374652 pairs of shorts/skirts and now one pair of ripped trousers. for some asinine reason, there is a closet full of unworn/tagged size 0 slim-cut extra long trousers, which really i don't have the nerve to ever try on because, it can get pretty exciting or daring for the eating disorder. i have these clothes because i don't see those sizes often plus i used to openly allow the torment. it was a very touchy issue to go into the closet and even look at those clothes because i feel the spot i am in with the eating disorder is a little tricky and i need no more ammunition.

i try one pair... the smallest size available. it fits, bags, even sags, and is very exciting. in a weird way it is also threatening and mocking. i used my new but old, sagging-in-the-ass and baggy-in-the-leg pants as a nice excuse to eat in germany. i ate most of the days, got up and walked around and even tried to touch something on the airplanes... went everywhere i needed to go plus added a side trip to holland at the last minute to see corbijn's color work at his a. somebody, strijen, holland exhibit at a town hall. i think i did alright.

scene: my house is dirty. the loudmouthed cat doesn't seem to have noticed that i was gone. there is a large assembly of take-out food trash and makeshift dishes made out of 'frozen dinner plastic containers' stacked in the sink.

i walked in the door with an entourage of luggage, an armful of rolled-up art prints, and a sack full of new bailey's ritter-sport chocolates. the television volume level was loud enough to have invalid friend not notice that me and my traveling chaos were standing in the hall with all of our mouths open.

hello?
no, nothing.

plunk down and turn on the computer. this is somewhat bemusing because i live in virtually one room and would notice the arrival of the girl-who-usually-carries-a-sharp-stick if lingering in her home. the aroma of burning pepperoni pizza is almost masking the stench from the stouffer's lasagna trays in the sink.

chuck [in monotone]: "oh you're home."
note: he didn't even adopt the holy-christ-we're-in-trouble face!
note: minutes pass.
chuck says: "don't you need to be in london today?"

it appears to be time to reevaluate my dictatorship.

[los angeles]
i cannot stay in four star hotels and then return to this apartment.
i hate it here- same as always.

wooden shoes and wooden tulips- bloemenmarkt, amsterdam

the annual vacation with motherfigure continues.
our current stop: amsterdam, holland

i hate how this blog entry is apt to be one huge rant, but the recent solo trips of mine has specifically been to "change the way i think." i am currently traveling with someone who is virtually inflexible, even though it is impractical.

the two of us have been visiting a select portion of western europe primarily by train.

germany.
austria.
the netherlands.

been there.
done that.
300,000 times...
but always happy to return.

motherfigure continually references the trip we took to paris, indicating she is not particularly excited by anything on this trip. how could we be when she insists on adhering to the safest tourist route? on the trampled path, can one distinguish between countries? i should also illustrate that motherfigure is specifically irritated with the 'brusk and unhelpful' old world european society, so much so, we have booted berlin off of our itinerary. it's alright, cities scare her in general. the punctuality of the trains and formulaic eurail system are a godsend because the little frustrations with her 'lack of risk-taking' are on high.

so far, and i swear, this trip has been focused on all kitshy tourist torture. what else could be expected? well, since she has previously visited europe, after a few days on this vacation (to gather a level of comfort) i expected more.

when shaking off the boredom by offering alternate ideas, motherfigure says, "i don't know about this." with one bite of bland bakery at a dutch kiosk this morning, motherfigure has managed to entirely write off dutch food-- then after stopping off at every tacky dive for magnets or postcards, she dragged me (pretend pouting and grumbling) to a pigeon infested mcdonald's restaurant in the city center watch her drink coffee. that was good, though. she felt a lot better after that break.

all attempts at composure are failing and so i stopped donating any opinion. i insisted that we travel five hours off the map to the village of weimar. it was important to visit the buchenwald concentration camp memorial, but was alone in that thought. motherfigure was not interested in a museum filled with torture devices and foreign newspaper clippings. very soon after stumbling into one of the many morgues (replete with meat-style hanging hooks on the wall), we caught the first city bus out of the area. we were on the grounds for less than ten minutes and in the village for under an hour.

no schiller's house.
no german national theater.
no franz liszt conservatory of music.
no goethe.
no ginkgo museum

now i hear, "you got to see what you wanted to see."



"hanging on the tree punishment"
stake torture device- buchenwald, germany

understand that we have different tastes, but why only travel where it is comfortable? it was extremely cold and particularly disturbing at the buchenwald memorial, but why not see what should be seen even if grim? consideration should be given here-- this camp lacked the antiseptic feeling that is occasionally maintained at other death camp memorials.

and look at me-- needing to vent when not only having the capacity, but also the ability to afford traveling with my mother in europe!

[annual vacation with motherfigure]
[flight: detroit dtw - frankfurt germany fra]

motherfigure is meeting up with me this afternoon at the 'new' northwest terminal here at the detroit metro airport. so, our annual vacation has finally arrived-- but will she? the new terminal is shiny and interpretable so let's hope so. later tonight, we will share the same dc-10 bulkhead row for the transatlantic crossing to germany. after we land at frankfurt am main, the plan is to board a train to munich. yes, i demanded that our initial route persists until she is about to drop dead at our hotel in munich. (the idea is that we will arrive in the evening, exhausted, and then sleep through the night-- rather than dealing with time zone fatigue.)

from munich we will visit quaint, uneven cobblestone streets of garmisch partenkirchen and also (somewhat reluctantly) tour mad king ludwig's castles in bavaria. other that that, who knows where we will travel? will we continue south to innsbruck, austria, or spend seven hours on a train to arrive in the czech republic? how charming and pedestrian prague could be for motherfigure, but, the country does have many interesting regions and castle to explore.

i hate all of this, BUT, if we have to take a vacation AND i have to 'lead' then this area of europe is definitely in synch with my element.

without doting on about having traveled extensively, let's just say that i do not know how to try to open myself up to any of the wonder left in this european experience, on this, the thirty-fifth time around.

i don't enjoy taking on the role of trailblazer or teacher. it does not bring me great joy or warm fuzzies to watch the awe reveal itself on the face of a companion, rather, it is a notable upset. why would i want to be surrounded by people who never thought much of taking in the world prior to finding safety with a travel companion? why do i want to stand next to someone who gasps at something rather than finding comfort in already having first hand knowledge of the experience?

god, i need to thwart this sourness.

- motherfigure wants to play it safe and take day tours.
- i want to kill her, or at least this 'touring' idea.
- sitting on a tour bus is extremely expensive and unproductive.
- what is wrong with renting a car and driving ourselves around?
- motherfigure is not that independent.
- her fears will direct the majority of our vacation.

this vacation is apt to be good blog fodder, but the time to write may be restricted. i hope this goes well. truly mind-expanding foreign experiences never start with a personable tour leader standing in the front of a coach holding a microphone, instructing people to look out of the left window.

[flight: los angeles international (lax) - detroit metro airport (dtw)]

nervous to leave the house today.

nervous to take this vacation--
it's too much, too excessive.
i just returned from a vacation.

nervous to travel internationally.
nervous to be motherfigure's tour leader.
nervous to have this trip fit all parameters of acceptability.

pfft!

i'm nervous to transverse the street.
the airports en route.
the aircraft aisle between seat and lavatory.
the country.
the atlantic ocean.
germany.
austria.
the netherlands.

god, what if our hotel sucks?
or, what if motherfigure refuses culture?

we visited paris once.
we're both still talking to each other.

we travelled to hawaii once.
that was actually great, but blame domestic familiarity.

everything on this trip which is not a continual form of comfortable enjoyment for my mother is apt to 'be wrong' and therefore 'be my fault.' any experience out of my mother's comfort zone is considered dangerous or counterculture.

i'm nervous to see my mother.
she's apt to be more nervous to see me.
just go...

okay, and here begins our annual vacation...

things are missing:

- anxiety disorder
- obsessive compulsive disorder
- major depressive disorder
- eating disorder
- my bloated amygdala

have i been robbed? in fact yesterday, after looking really hard for the eating disorder, it was nowhere to be found. the purging anorexia usually stands tall and to the right of the chocolate covered almonds, but like i said, they had all gone missing.

a bag needs to be packed for my future adventure with motherfigure in europe, and i was contemplating a visit to spain near the end of the month, but... i'd get conned into getting undressed for famous photographer friend so possibly not.

spain? it's hysterical considering i am still wearing the oversized sweatshirt with 'housebound in fear' emblazoned on the front. in a scripted language it says i am still running. though i know enough to slow down, there is a habitual tendency to stop while way ahead.

[back home in los angeles]
well, not only have i 'survived myself' in star-studded holland, but throughout a spontaneous trip to turkey and syria. 'the ingestion and digestion project' proved impossible many times and this was to be expected. i wasn't about to sample traditional topkap? baklava or secure food when stuck with a group of people-- so big deal.

in september, i had arrived home from a trip to new zealand to find a flat tire on the oldbutnew car. this time i walked in the door to find that the power had been turned off. what in the heck?! the utility bill was paid in full before departure.

rage helps to get things accomplished. i drove down to scarytown, entered the los angeles department of water and power office, and basically said, "this bill is paid." the customer service clerk typed for a moment, and then had a secret conference with a superivsor before i heard, "hmm, the bill was paid." i stood there like a fool waiting for something other than a look of incredulous confusion from either of them. "give it a few hours," they both assured. fine.

i have been traveling extensively but this visit to the ladwp office alone feels like a grand success. these trips help to promote independence at home.

what this power outage means: on the afternoon of the day i departed for amsterdam, invalid friend came by to feed paws the loudmouthed cat. he noticed the electrical power outage, but then never bothered to investigate reconnecting the service. invalid friend chuck also mentioned spending a few nights here while i was gone. [in the dark?]

the cat just threw up on my unpacked suitcase. welcome home! real nice. chuck is living up to his 'invalid friend' namesake, paws appears to have been vomiting from high places... it appears everything is back to normal.

turkish visa sticker, entry and exit passport stamps--
ataturk international airport, istanbul, turkey

...and here begins the journey home.