flagrant

DIET COKE CAN WITH JAPANESE WRITING--
SHINJUKU-KU, TOKYO, JAPAN

it's a popular product with foreign charm, therefore someone leeches this photograph of a japanese can of coca cola on a daily basis. finally frustrated enough that people refuse to merely right-click and save the picture to their computer, i decided to return a rather distasteful image of a bathtub filled with vomit to those websites.

consider: picture how those lazy people who stole my bandwidth can now effortlessly fire off hate mail referencing the disgusting spew.

well, that's fine. i will allocate tens of thousands of dollars each year toward a foreign travel budget to give the less adventurous a gallery pass. they can pay for internet access, plant themselves into their favorite crumb-scattered chairs, and pronounce shinjuku wrong.

dearest ex-roommate,

do understand that santa monica college and the los angeles community college system combined could never teach you the required critical thinking skills to keep one step ahead. actually, i was surprised to learn of your enrollment. if you remember our conversation, you opinion revealed how 'enrollment alone in a junior college was an advertisement of limitation.'

perhaps, fault the system for your reduction, and now, lack of reception.

had my history involving a miserly, money laundering psycho that i was now trying to avoid, i would have pulled her credit report to determine her demographic information remained unchanged (...and she had not, by chance, previously moved to the same city i was just now settling in).

happy university-ing.
have you noticed who works in the registrar's office yet?

flagrant


psychological terrorist- but does it pay well?
no.
well then how do i stop?
how am i supposed to remain extrospective?
and free?
having discovered an ex-roommate has moved in down the street?

does anyone want to go to portland with me for two days?
oregon?
wet ground? late september?

with the recent addition of flights into kabul from frankfurt and moscow, getting into afghanistan neither has to be an overland journey from almaty nor an armed guarded adventure from peshawar.

almaty? kazakhstan? isn't that a little far away from afghanistan? upon reticketing my central asian trip, i caught on to a glitch at the klm royal dutch website. in the way klm processes zone coupons, it bought the round trip ticket from los angeles - amsterdam - almaty to under $400. [as of now, los angeles to almaty on klm, with the necessary connection at their hub in amsterdam, prices out correctly at $2200.] for the phenomenal price of $400, starting this expedition from almaty, even though very far away, made the most financial sense.

if it came down to it, i could fly right into kabul, but-- i can't! how lazy is that? wouldn't you consider me a wuss if i flew direct rather than crossing overland from peshawar?

it costs an absolute fortune to travel to pakistan. i considered burning frequent flyer miles toward an initial airline ticket to russia, and then from moscow, boarding the inexpensive ariana flight to kabul.

[imaginary insanity tour]
from kabul, i wish to go completely crazy by taking a few internal flights in afghanistan, continuing overland to depart through iran, carrying on over to turkey, and then from istanbul... return home? what about lingering in cappadocia, canakkale, or near a secluded beach near antalya? this trip itinerary may potentially never end. this never-will-happen portion could also offer a side trip alternative to baku in azerbaijan, where i could catch a steamer and cross the caspian sea and from there visit...
[/imaginary insanity tour]

note: flying is easier and cheaper than overland peshawar/kabul.
consider: not having to lug my heavy bulletproof vest around!
consider: interception/robbed/bandits overland peshawar/kabul?

note: not crossing peshawar/kabul (where i would hire a personal armed guard) misses the majority of the experience.
consider: missing magnificent sights in uzbekistan and kazakhstan .

i hate the rehash more than you.

this isn't good place to land when using the random blog button. explain myself? it's not possible in under 30,000 words.

after being virtually housebound for years, this blog began with the first few attempts at leaving my house unassisted. i was wrought with illness, couldn't digest a meal, and was about down to my last dollar. now at two and a half years later, i run two successful businesses from this desk, travel the world so much that individual foreign trips do not always warrant a blog entry, bought and paid for a home in full in under 18 months, and if i wanted to, could eat a sandwich. many of my original problems remain, but my life is so much better than the previous understatement, that i like to think of this time as the afterwards.

if this is rambling about nothing what should people call what you write?


> e-mail: are you still playing bass?

at home? yes. in that band? no. it didn't last very long because of the nerve damage i wrote about. it would have been nice to get paid more than the total i spent gassing up the car to travel to the local shows [trying not to mention the flights to seattle, portland, and vancouver]. two of the members were not interested in making any money, at all, even though one of them has a mom with unfathomable music industry connections- what exactly was the point? fun? i need more than fun.


> e-mail: are you available for illustration work?

maybe: children's books.
no: random illustrating.


> e-mail: what exactly do you do for a living now?

i don't ever know how to answer because i do several things and they all tend to rank equally. i am one of several spokespeople for a hair care corporation and have appeared in their television promos and print ads, filmed a documentary focusing on drugs for a cable news network, spent four days producing a documentary in south east asia, will import morocccan textiles/ceramics for specialty shops two weekends this year, am illustrating two children's books, and also own a company which publishes mostly textbooks. i was going to patent and distribute a skin care product but the legal issues seem so bewildering (and threatening) that i seriously no longer want any part of it seeing how easily (and immediately) i could be sued for another person's stupidity. what is my job title? i don't know. people who know or meet me only seem to care about television appearances i did, the outdated calvin klein job, or how they can be just as thin.

[one day]
- everything got good.
- i changed perspective
- knew enough to keep my mouth shut.

[two hours later]
- a particularly disgusting meeting with the drain.
- blackouts.
- the "holes" in my vision problem is here.
- minor seizures on the left side of my face.
- my BMI is 12.5, i win. you suck and swallow.
- everyone should die.

[three hours later]
- tomorrow i will be good to myself.
- if it's over, why isn't it over?
- i have it all figured out, i'm just lazy. [repeat]

why do people continue to ask me about bunbury? if they never cared during the before, why should they be entitled to the after? have i learned not to dole out a splinter more than originally given? probably. to be the good guy, i need to spill my guts, but for what? no one will remain.

how can i join, or, simply enjoy ordinary conversation with people? random chatting with family or strangers undoubtedly reveals their future plans or recent accomplishments and i find myself required to keep composure.

i would be embarrassed if their plans were my undertaking, and therefore, i cannot reciprocate any conversation at a similar level. when offering nothing in return, this silence helps me to appear either arrogant or disengaged.

still referring to myself as the most unattractive person in the world, to counter this fact, i insist on creating a beautiful life. if conquer this self doubt, the future might only offer a chronic recording: i have already been there, done that, at half the price, and twice the quality.

here is an example:

my sister is thinking about undertaking an exercise plan. that is, she is "thinking about trying" to take a daily walk.

i am currently registered for a triathlon and am angry at "where her brain is allowed to stop." what is this try thing? i don't understand why someone would need to try to take a walk everyday. i do understand that someone may need to attempt to schedule free time, but at only 20-60 minutes per day, is this a real concern?

try bothers the hell out of me. what's wrong with do or die? the answer is that she has never had to "do or die" and so, she neither has incentive nor capacity to understand why one would break a sweat in any domain.

another example:

my sister just financed a hyundai santa fe.

i swiped my debit card the last time a car was purchased in an effort to earn united airlines mileage plus frequent flyer miles. something inside requires me to get a secondary value out of any purchase. also, there was no possibility i would find myself living poor enough to need to finance a car-- if it came to the point of needing to sign for a loan, a catastrophe would have been required.

worse yet, why was i involved in a conversation with one who would buy a vehicle which could not uphold excellent safety standards or even one second of resale value? honestly, i felt as though i was talking to a dangerous person.

my anxieties, and illness apply here. the extra time i take to arrive at decisions has in part been beneficial, otherwise they would have not been allowed to thrive. due to this, i do not appreciate when i see other people "just do" or "act on any flippant desire without thought." it is especially hard for me to see people who pretty much live paycheck to paycheck acting like this.

oh, and then it gets worse...

motherfigure has, for as long as i can remember, been having computer problems. as with everything else which she cannot fix alone, after buying the yellow 'for dummies' guidebook and finding herself still stuck, she called me.

how interesting!
how did she get the number to my private line?

"can you walk me through the process of fixing this computer and also tell me how to put it back together," she asked. in person, i have endless patience, but this was to be accomplished while chatting on the phone.

consider: her computer is apart?

motherfigure: "well, your brother was here and he took the lid off of it."
flagrant: "why?"
motherfigure: "i don't know-- your brother has been working on it for days."
flagrant: "right, but what is he doing to it?"

[father in background:] JUST FUCKING THROW THE GODDAMN THING OUT!!!

flagrant: "he removed the casing and went inside to fix what?"
motherfigure: "i don't know. your brother can't get it to work."

how to not picture a family of toothless wonders sitting around their living room floor pointing, peering, and saying things like "lookit all dem wires" or "wass this do?" it only took a minute to discover their browser had been hijacked and there was nothing wrong with any computer hardware. while we were talking, i fetched links to the required downloads to fix internet explorer. an hour later motherfigure called to inform that the computer had been assembled and was now working fine.

flagrant: "you never mentioned how you got my new telephone number."
motherfigure: "yeah, i know-- i have to make dinner for your father now. bye."

what exactly is the point of having a blog if you cannot come up with your own style? isn't this the place to experiment? i don't think it is flattering at all to see someone being continually bootlegged even before being established. sure, nobody really reads anyone else's blogs. we just scan them looking for the shove or the spark... what sense would it make for someone to rehash a favorite blog online other than for the fallacy of ability? cheating, fraud, and hollowness aside, everyone is a winner if the stadium is right.

so, i couldn't resist... enough about whatsherface.

as if you needed another excuse to binge drink-
i could use another empty absolut citron vodka bottle.
link: how to make a lava lamp.

even though it is my own schedule, today i missed work. i feel like the biggest schlump in the world who should be taken out back and beat, forced to eat beets, or some other ridiculous, unrelated punishment.

my conscience is giving me grief for paying a fee of $200 to change an airline ticket to gatwick which was priced at $211. the argument is, find me a round trip to london which lacks a seven day stay requirement, awards full elite qualifying miles, and costs less than the original ticket ($211) and fee ($200). it's impossible. even though paying the fee works out ahead of budget, the additional cost is disturbing.



painted, vacuumed the house, fed the cat, and even got some quality sleep-- but the big plan was ruined this afternoon when invalid friend's key was heard scraping the lock. he wasn't apprised to my reticketed flight and i had planned to catch him this evening at my house in an act of junk food and explicit films. oh well.

he walked in, handed me a wad of money, and said, "it's only $1800 because work didn't adjust my commissions this week." then he immediately left-- but why invalid friend continues to give me the majority of his paycheck has yet to be discovered. he is well aware of my recent swing trades, contracts, and projects. does he really think i would spend all of these extended hours breathing aircraft air for a basic level of compensation?

the world is upside-down. i just invited someone out to dinner and instead of middle of the night online shopping, when it would have made sense to splurge on sleeping pills, or enroll in a television and film professional seminar, i signed up for an arabic course and a ------ ------- ------- class at ----. later on i added an art seminar weekend for the fall.

[undiluted blog]
crosses fingers
[tap tap tap]
just say it
it's okay
no, i have to qualify it...
"the day isn't over and so much can still go wrong but..."
"whenever i say this, something expensive happens."

it-it-it is (probably) a pretty good day.

in a great twist of events, all of the horrible bitchiness and self righteous attitude that greed and i collected over the last year was gathered and collectively used as an ultimate weapon.

what happened was while questioning the lingering complacency and loss of hope, i found out that all of those alarming qualities were required to protect myself and motivate the needed sentence. once spoken, a frightful habit died, the shrillness evaporated, and i immediately made it to the next level.

empty without anger and slanted demeanor, the only accurate word is weightless.

my three dollar mood ring is telling me i am tranquil.
the current watercolor shows everything is in place.
it says, "wow, the universe, at hand... and unassisted."

[undiluted blog]
i am allowed to eat two foods.
two foods once, not one food twice.
one must be REAL FOOD while the other can be SWEETS.
define: REAL FOOD is anything normal.
define: SWEETS does not necessarily mean sugar.
SWEETS must not be packaged.
SWEETS must not be REAL FOOD.
god forbid that SWEETS be BREAD.
note: typical "sweets" are BREAD thus typical "sweets" are not SWEETS.
example: donuts (not allowed) are BREAD, sweet tasting, but not SWEETS.

today i was hungry once and ate one REAL FOOD.
i am not allowed to be hungry twice.
if hunger is not tended, a future hunger is not allowed.
one rule was broken with one food once.

later i tried something new.
me: i can eat one food twice, it won't change anything.
anorexia: no you can't!

[skip ahead]

three foods twice or one food thrice equals full deprivation.
you: "we don't understand."
me: too much of one type of food can leave variety unfulfilled.
me: too much essentially will equal not enough.
me: as in, less is more.
consider: two foods twice?

photograph of travel photographs

- while paging through a photo album last night, i feel very confused and scared about anorexia. what am i supposed to look like? there were photographs of kauai from 1999 and from fiji in 2001- captured back during a time when i could barely live or walk. certainly i was much thinner then? i am positive i was, but am surprised to judge my current size as even smaller.

- those photographs were supposed to shake me up. i looked at them in an attempt to feel fat and make me reconsider any future digestion- instead they elevated intention. after seeing that my current body is smaller and much more cut with less than a quarter of the original effort, hell, i might try to intentionally starve harder.

- am i achieving a health or is awareness as lacking as ever? the goal is to maintain impractical thinness, yet be able to digest food while not having it disable daily life emotionally and/or physically. [i need to either tread lightly here or classify myself as one of the idiots who cannot discern between size and behavior.] i could venture out and obtain food today. it would not seriously disrupt any plans for the rest of the week. simple ingestion used to dictate my involvement in the world- basically punishing myself for anything- want or need.

- the year long episode of anger and despair is gone as of monday. it still freaks me out how i can eliminate emotions with a decision but it's no surprise i still know how to utilize the switch.

the day following the day after a horrific day is when it all catches up to my face, but i rather enjoy looking like a different person after an invigorating scrub. after rearranging the dripping hair, i thanked god for the dark. no one should have to glimpse at this human disaster. managed to exit and then lurch outside to the unwanted car.

please start.

why wouldn't it start? it always starts. must find a way to exchange want for need and then trade this damn thing in on an updated style. the low fuel light indicator is on. damn. consider attending to service station chores with this wet hair, this tree sap spotted car, and under the brightlights spotlighting the business. perhaps, i'll just lurch myself back inside.

the phone rings. translation: i am expected. pop open and then place ringing phone into center console. reluctantly maneuver the vehicle off of the property and on to the mobile station on the corner. appear to, but fraudulently fidget with wallet when actually stalling in the hopes that other gas station patrons will finish pumping gas and then leave. get out of the car. scan the gas card. please work. why wouldn't it work? computer beeps its approval. lift nozzle, begin fueling.

man approaches. consider controlling any potential situation with eye contact rather than this hunched over shyness. consider if this is a professional homeless person?
consider the tension. ugliness. stress. look at him! flower folding introversion could promote or provoke a robbery. handle yourself.

consider, "no i don't have anything but large bills so please don't ask."

"hi. is this your car?"
[he asked]

"yes."
it's filthy.
oh god. what does he want?
what did i do wrong?

"this is *YOUR* car?!"
[he asked again]

"yes."
why?
what does he mean?
what's wrong with it?

"like, you bought this by yourself or your parents got it for you?"
[he continued]

oh my god, he must think i'm in high school.
"i bought it myself."

"wow. you must work really hard."

[ding! we finally have a winner!]
"thank you."

"alright, bye... and you smell really good, too."

"i knew you wouldn't be normal."
[under my breath]

beep. would you like a receipt? no. zero out trip odometer. drive through ocd-inspiring reseda on tampa avenue. tune in kfi talk radio and then tune out. wait endlessly in the northridge fashion center mall's parking garage for invalid friend chuck.

suddenly, out of nowhere, a kid appears at car window.

"WOW is this awesome car yours? did you buy it all by yourself?"
[she asked]

you've got to be kidding.
"uh, what?"

"this car is all yours or did your parents buy it for you?"
[she asked]


consider:
is my life broadcast online?
no? aired on live television, perhaps?
might there be writers getting paid for this?
are entire demographics getting off on each scene?


i should enjoy the fact that anorexia makes me appear very young and also enjoy the lack of a car payment because, apparently, it's all fine. on the other hand, as a population, we neither function on the same level nor play on the same field of life. my car is fine and this is confirmed, unfortunately, i don't navigate that world.

road rash dimpled forearms from the concrete sidewalk and a bug nearby, all i did was whisper that today really had to be okay because i wasn't going to be able to find tomorrow even with my eyes closed. imaginary friend cancelled his schedule, flew to los angeles, went to the grocery store, then arrived at my house to cook dinner- just for me. twinkle twinkle lotsa stars. there was no grief given, not even a look, but nothing peppermint either.

last night included four sessions of horrible abuse
but lucky me
only two golf ball-sized clots of blood.
it's nice to be home.

after the second shock how can the third jolt ever happen?
number four only follows because it's over.
warning, warning! autopilot device is jammed.
just fucking give up.

as you shuffle out to the car
undone and pants unbuttoned
dried lick on your face
you worry about potentially being stopped and beaten by the lapd.
not that going with them is a problem
it might be the solution
instead panic because there is NO WAY
the enormous coat you are wearing will be removed.

blend right into the pervasive wasteland.
you are not one of the nine out of ten drunks driving home
rather there is a worse obsession
this necessary somewhat chemical bewilderment.

hi, it's me.
pull around to the side. [he says.]
thanks. [don't tell me to have a nice day.]
eyebrows are raised. [who is he to give me that look?]
don't use that all at once. [he says.]
fuck off.

where the hell do i live?
this car seems slow.
i know, i know, but can't stop talking to myself in that tight voice.
mmm... it's this way.

man, shut up radio!
shut up, nick cave!
fucking traffic light!
don't look at me, jerk.
bah bah bah... bah bah baaaa...
god, shut up mouth.

is it three already or might it be wednesday?
i have to run at four
or did
and now it's four again which is unrelated
but this time it's going to be different, i swear.

alpha woman blogged about a bbq. a metal rake scraped the cement in erratic time. on television, monks prayed. while walking this morning, it was problematic to step from the curb.

anxiety disorder is terrible
nothing is about to happen
should be able to box this
can't

[undiluted blog]
i would like to thank the reader who complained of the boredom here as essentially, it made me question the five forked road. really now, who needs "well" when i can effortlessly entertain the chunky worker bees with my hysterical anxiety?

but it's true!
i know, i know, but now i know, you know?!

[undiluted blog]
what will those other bloggers do when faced with droop?

no more tragicomical weekends, please.

here i go shipping myflagrant LIFEBOX off to london for the weekend.

name?:
tristan

current location?:
southern california

hair color?
blonde, red, or dark brown.

eye color?:
green

sexiest man ever?:
brent king in 1993.

do you like your breasts?:
the correct question is: do you like my breasts? i am extremely underweight, physically fit, and also pass the pencil test, if that's what you are asking.

color of your bathing suit?:
- three light blue bikinis from j. crew
- one burberry tank
- one black calvin klein tank

is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?:
you want to know if it's better to have life experience rather than not?

give me a book, movie, CD, and song recommendation.
i would never offer an opinion on any of these items.

what could you never tell your parents?:
i can discuss anything with them-- whether or not they choose to hear me or not is another story. perhaps i would never suggest that they have turned into their pre-university children.

paper or plastic?:
neither. never consume more than one can easily carry.

favorite song lyric today?:
you make me lose my buttons
oh yeah, you make me spit
i don't like my clothes anymore
- interpol, the specialist

tell me a secret:
once when i was nineteen, i outran the cops with my car. the story grows out of hand and people would probably lead you to believe that i had to drive across someone's yard to do it.

are you a good liar?
of course not.

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
i am working on raising my emotional quotient (EQ) and looking to squash my desire to touch all possible extremes.

what's your favorite accent?:
å

tell me a joke:
what's the difference between like and love?

everyone knows most people are...:
"nowhere near as critical as you are tristan, so don't worry about other people knowing or seeing _______ because people can't even think that way."

vous-parlez francais?:
Tu ne manges pas?

is there a song or a CD or something that you strongly associate with a certain event in your life?:
when the love of my life died, the cd in the car stereo went unchanged that week. there were other tasks, strangers in the car, and obviously too much preoccupation. the last time that cd played, i was driving alone and that week returned. rather than being overwhelming or sad, as was the initial pang of emotion, it felt oddly romantic.

how have you changed in the past year?:
- i am flexible, not being bound by as much obsessive compulsive disorder
- i can trust people more often

what is one thing you want to do before you die?:
a writer on another blog answered this same question by saying the most important goal in her life was to eventually travel to ireland. [??]
i need to follow through with, and then provide for all of my endeavors before kicking off.

do you like to travel?:
i flew over twenty twelve hour long flights this year.
the answer might be no.

states you've been to?:
are you referring to the united states in america?
different states of consciousness?
states of art? states of india?

what countries have you been to?:
more than you can name without a reference.

smoke cigarettes?:
no, never.

lucky number?:
03

favorite super hero?:
sydney bristow

favorite sport?:
ultramarathon
surfing
scuba diving
dune boarding in foreign lands
snorkeling
kayaking
insulting people with the truth

worst mistake you ever made?:
saying no, saying yes.

if you were an animal, what would you be?:
a banded krait viper, a giant manta ray, and a cat... all in one.

last cd you bought?:
morrissey, maladjusted 1997 (this is *not* a recommendation)

last movie you saw?:
a few minutes of orpheus.

favorite tv channel?:
never use television except for background noise while staying in a hotel.

ever been arrested?:
no.

ever had to have surgery?:
yes.

kind of bike you had as a kid?:
what age constitutes "kid?" prior to paying one's own rent and insurance, i suppose. in that case, i still own a vitus carbon fiber "carbone 9" which is outfitted with very nice components (campagnolo record, with the famous delta brakes, time magnesium pedals). it is, or once was, very valuable. it has less than 100 miles on it, the carbon fiber tubes never came unglued, and is available for sale. [anorexorcism||gmail||com]

what kind of cell phone do you use?:
blue camera phone.
it's nothing too stylish but it works in malaysia and cambodia.

lefty or righty?:
ambidextrous.

what do you want to be when you grow up?:
vital.

favorite smell:
hawaiian orchids

favorite thing to do on the weekends:
1) any weekend that i am not flying lax - london gatwick - lax is good
2) complain that no one is online and save for monday

favorite soundtrack:
the one wisdomgoof sent me.

what was the first thing you thought to yourself when you woke up this morning:
holy crap, did i fall asleep? i still have cardio and would rather not perform under the threat of sunshine.

what are you doing after you finish this?
checking in for a flight online, sending e-mail to tony pierce, sending motherfigure links to the jw marriott resort and spa in phuket, thailand and then walking to the grocery store to secure a gallon of distilled water.

"the biggest difference between england and the u.s. is that car trunks are a lot smaller there," says AISLE B seatmate to flagrant, immediately after hearing of her weekend trip to london. it is at this moment of devastating frustration that flagrant forgets how to talk and obsessively considers if alexithymia is first a why and then an eye or if the why is a simple eye sandwich. "aye," nods flagrant, as she places her headphones over her ears.

i flew to san francisco and back today and both of my seatmates were lunatics. retracing my steps and wondering if this was invisible payback for any recent underhanded action, i decided that this needn't be my hell when instead it could be made into sport. soon after takeoff, AISLE B had her television education questioned, and almost instantly retreated. on the return, a man boarded the plane, noted his disgust for his seatmate, and then basically told my new AISLE B seatmate that he needed to talk to me, all of the while making it sound as though he and i knew each other. he directed AISLE B to take his WINDOW D and the mouse complied. it was then that i decided to use the short amount of time to practice fraudulently being the greatest individual he would never meet again. he may now need therapy.

it's that time of year again. you know, when i start to relax and make life changing decisions, then out of the blue chuck requests that i work magic by getting one of his co-workers fired. "otherwise," he always swears, "there is the possibility i might lose my job." his job loss could interrupt my middle of the night escape from southern california.

is this the third time in two years?
tom in sherman oaks... richard in reseda... i guess so.

chuck left me an envelope which reveals account, authorization, and social security numbers, approval codes, and also a few names. unfortunately this is unnecessary.

all i need is to make one anxiety-inducing telephone call to the target to get his mind spinning, which will provoke his mouth to eventually say too much. a few days later one questioning but leading call will be made to district management. i doubt a follow up letter will even be required. chuck should know by now that shady co-workers are easily tripped up by the truth and that his illegally rooting around for information will not be tolerated and can only get him into trouble.

Dear Kiasu Blogger #201:

I agree this is a perfect and simple template for this format. Even though one of the recurring themes you will find on this journal is about the appalling and exhaustive laziness I see in the world, I actually do not mind that you copied my specific code rather than seeking out a more inventive format. I understand that not everyone has the capacity for exertion but a google search easily reveals this arrangement. Please be apprised, very few lives are remarkable or stark enough for lean text.

Let me take issue with only one aspect of this subject and show its subsequent spectrum interference:

When my personalized code was published on your blogspot, you neglected to remove not only meta tags but also the script needed to analyze my webstats. What this did was disrupt statistics which I pay for and it also added an additional superfluous column to my reports, meaning I now need to exert effort and scroll a previously fixed web page.

Why must I adjust effort when you refused? Why must I spend $38.48 on a scrolling mouse that was unnecessary before yesterday? Why must I endure fifteen minutes in a cashier's queue with twenty fugly shoppers who forgot to check themselves in the mirror before leaving the house? Why must I return to the parking lot and find a shopping cart has bashed into the door of my car? Why must I pay for the gasoline at the station on the way home and have to tell a homeless man that I no longer have any dollar bills? WHY MUST THIS MOUSE NOT WORK AND NOW I HAVE TO GO BACK TO THAT HELLISH STORE? Who is paying for my wasted time? Whatever happens en route to return the mouse will be directly related to copy and paste laziness regardless of any action performed by these hands. kiasu blogger #201, you should hope I stop to play the lottery today rather than accidentally crash the car.

Have a nice August as I already have researched your home address and intend to travel through Singapore in October.

K L Strøm, anorexorcism.com

WOVEN BERBER KILIM- CAMEL WOOL AND SILK EMBROIDERED MOROCCAN RUG

a few days ago i decided "i would like to want to be able to" temporarily move out of southern california for a year-- either portland, or the coast of oregon is up for consideration. perhaps, and initially as a test, i will see if the area relates to the way i interact with the world. in an effort to give myself a lot of room to change and grow, i have neglected to offer a new leasing contract on my london property. i doubt i intend to ever live in britain full time, but the home will be available for my own use after december.

this does not necessarily mean relocating most, or even a gross shipment of belongings to portland and/or england. well, yet. this is mostly because i don't know what i want to do. perhaps i will remain in southern california?

unfortunately, the option to move on and investigate what the world can provide is exciting, and i do need to maintain my own los angeles lease for a few more months.

it seems as though i should be dealing with an inordinate amount of stress due to the multitudes of possibilities associated with these decisions. there are numerous situations which i know can go wrong, and those unexpected issues i cannot prepare for should be driving me batty. there are a billion other financial issues -- the total costs of the moving process, for instance -- but i am so excited i can barely sit still. my thoughts are overwhelmed with superficial, but fun, concerns. "should i take this dresser with me or buy a new one there? how will i handle wardrobe issues? will i allow myself to spend toward all of the additional costs needed to maintain another home?"

how to tolerate this sudden eagerness? one horrible and spontaneous part of me wants to make an unfrugal decision to pay off my lease for the year and just go. yeah, just go! i could always return. i have lived in such a final and rigid way over the last decade-- the rest of my life need not be absolute and impossible to flex.

BUS STOP- CASABLANCA, MOROCCO

rug related positions #1 and #2 have been hanging over my head for a few weeks now. i need to fly to morocco, bargain for carpets, and return home the next day. you know i'll blame anxiety disorder or fear for having not left yet but truth is i plan on pocketing both business class airfares and flying on my own discounted ticket, saving thousands upon thousands of dollars in the process. the amount saved alone is worth going this afternoon.

1) wash hair [long and tiresome process/struggle to comb while wet]
2) change cat litter
3) check-in online for flight
4) drive really fast to LAX [impossible, friday earlier afternoon drive time]
5) board flight

it's not happening.

yesterday i drove invalid friend from point A encino to point B northridge, waited in the sweltering car, drove him to point C santa monica and then returned home. squinting from the sun somewhere on the pacific coast highway and managing to stop at every traffic light, i said, "i'm not doing this anymore." never did i expand on the meaning so what sounded like "driving invalid friend around" actually meant "breathing and living here, and enduring all of these scarypeople, for longer than my current lease states." he thinks i'm pissed off at him but i wasn't lit up enough to inform or converse.

i am not 20 years old and am not going to live in a hotel for a month with a cat while searching for an apartment, having run screaming across the country in order to make a new life, but i would leave everything behind again.

[undiluted blog]
- bank sent me a form letter stating my loan was paid off.
- bank enclosed title, documents, loan papers, etc...
- bank stamped proper lines releasing their interest in my property.

but:
- there was never a courtesy letter detailing a selection of amounts in which the last payment should be written out, relating to the interest rate and which date the check would arrive at the bank.
- there was no minimal overage check included with the documents and there should have been if the recent payment the bank received was indeed the final payment because it was mailed early.

and:
- why do i always have to call someone to follow up on their half-assed jobs?
- even if this bank owes me pocket change there should be some mention that they don't cut checks under a certain amount.

ignore the individual finger-like grooves and bones between my breasts and focus on: concave. rib cage structure appears to easily fold closed. the butterfly effect. the year of excess ends in just a few days... did it start? the year of taking what i needed resulted in a stronger determination, phenomenal metabolism, and a failure. it's august. do i add more time? no. i would rather revisit the real me, rid the uncomfortable thoughts, calm, and post pictures.

somehow, it may be the saddest joke in the world that my arms now are thinner than the old photo i used to have posted in 2002.

different spectrums are stronger now. i have a voice. that matters. people will give me everything on earth and it is due to me. i am a weapon without using the crutch of being a threat of health. that matters. there is custom padding on my car's seatbelt because in a very minor accident, that seatbelt might kill me. mm-hmm... now that goes ignored.

consider: the old sidebar and entry which mentioned something about having had to relearn how to walk unassisted after the deterioration of body and balance from the ag and the an. why were they deleted? was it to make people comfortable or to make me forget? why the lack of the who, what, why, wow, and i went here, there, around, and then back- twice? information as attraction and i like to say, "get lost."

a lot of greed returned... a lack of appreciation of just about every other person on earth followed... lots of anger.. documented it all in handwriting which can barely be read... better to go the other way... better to give away... better keep electricity on... free of greed but having once lived in the land of fuzzy angels, how does one rid the egotistical concept of: if anyone, me.

the gigabot gigablast bot is annoying as hell.

since the weekend was great, i telephoned chuck and demanded, "get over here. we're going shopping and i'll buy you anything you want." he replied by telling me all he needs are a few wrinkle free dress shirts for work. good dog! why am i trying to get rid of this guy when he has been thoroughly trained?

if i use this blog to note the sake of progression, why has there yet to be a mention of signing a lucrative contract with an international corporation, attending a fitting this week, fears of body image, inferiority complex issues, and notes relating to the discomfort of simply being known?

one of the invalid friends deposited a new trial of myoplex lite powder on my dining room table. picture him patting the top of the box with his hand as i only twirled my hair and thought the words perfunctory protein. billboard functioning states this version has no maltodextrin so you're going to drink it, like it, grow longer eyelashes, get a regular job, stop spectrum obsessing, and then we will all live happily ever after. i said, "promise?" invalid friend started to say "promise what" but i nullified sound when it became obvious he hadn't been listening to the daydream. no way was i going to be challenged or even put out by enduring that exhausting task of repetition. myoplex just sat there. i hate that. blink twice, say no. "no." invalid friend heard the transmission and said, "but doesn't this fall under the blue box exception?" hmm. leeway.