Tuesday, November 30, 2004

tomorrow, i attend doctor appointment #2 in the same westwood office building as doctor #1 from last friday. my appearance at this referral appointment is to demonstrate to the insurance review board that i still need to retain special coverage. what do i know, but i imagine presenting records from more than one physician and being seen at multiple clinics can help. i am driving myself again down to ucla. sunshine, midday traffic, the venomous MINI cooper S-- but it should be fine.

getting this medical evaluation set up has been such a pain-- it would certainly be considered an ordeal to anyone with social anxiety disorder or agoraphobia. one big argument with these appointments is how i would rather not accept a prescription for antidepressants, but one should be recorded or "on file" to submit with the insurance review. for "proof of lunacy" i would say, though anyone can get a prescription written for an ssri, even from a general practitioner. every little bit to write on the form helps-- the insurance coverage is this important.

perhaps, i would try another medicine if the noted side effects lacked all obvious blocks not to bother, but any of talk of antidepressants as a monotherapy will render the appointment a one time affair. i worry these doctors will be lazy and only dole out pills, ineffective due to the threat of a lawsuit, or blindly accept my case without a genuine interest in my illness. i know exactly what is wrong with me and why each little neurotic speed bump was built. the blocks i put up for myself are a protection from very real things and it should be senseless to dole out medication that physically alters brain chemistry in cases where learned and now habitual behavior just needs to be unwound.

consider how the medication could be used to help loosen tension, which could therefore facilitate ripping out old stitches of behavior. medication offers a complex relationship-- it does not necessarily need to be looked at as a solution.

once all of these references are checked, the insurance company should back off for five years. i called the ucla anxiety disorders clinic and successfully left a message requesting an appointment for *only* a medication evaluation. i mentioned not being interested in becoming a new patient. (from what i was told, that was the "secret code" needed to get an appointment scheduled within the year.) later in the day, chuck called the same number at the clinic and left a scripted message which mirrored my original request. a receptionist returned our calls and proclaimed that she is so sorry but the clinic is not taking new patients at this time, but there are slots available for people who are only requesting medication evaluations.

hello?

it is as though people are on autopilot 97% of the time and forget to listen. this kind of profound senselessness happens on so many occasions that i must be the problem. i have to be. after explaining to that receptionist that she was offering exactly what was requested, she read out a different telephone number for us to call to set up the appointment. the receptionist on the other side of the new phone number said her office was inpatient only "but just a sec" and "she'll get the other phone number." the third telephone number forwarded the call to the original receptionist at the first telephone number. [gee, no kidding.] would it be wrong to call the anxiety disorders clinic back and ask to talk to someone who doesn't sound confused? in the future will i be one of those people who automatically invalidates any business-related first line of defense and requests a higher level of management for every transaction?

is this what everyone else goes through for simple tasks? these situations are obviously written along with an elevated panic level -- really, these frustrations are just phone calls -- but i swear to god that a high percentage of the people in southern california have absolutely no comprehension. i have not been speaking mandarin to martians on the moon, so my issue with receptionist idiocy continues. it might be a basic job to direct phone calls and schedule appointments, but one could assume that a clerical position in a sensitive department of a world class medical center would not be an entry level position.

or, how mental illness thinks:

unless, of course, this telephone tag is an undisclosed anxiety disorders clinic protocol. by the time patients actually manage to see a doctor, they are bumped up to level two, having gotten over their telephone anxiety and minor issues with people through simple immersion therapy, interaction, and presence. :p


can you tell i have been replentishing my own pharmaceutical stacks? so far today has been about seeing from my nose down. drugs should at least open up my vision but a library book is due and the sun sets soon while these feet wait for my shoes to finish baking. this ain't no meth lab. i should write that on the gram scale. oven is on. damn it's cold in here. ephedrine shivers. my world desperately tries to smell like a mink oil and household cleanser cover up, but the ionic breeze is sparking while it wafts ozone purified headaches in this direction. will i go? i can do the outside sunshine today- it's only to the drop box outside the public library to avoid that one weenie but scary clerk. who knows what the evening brings? give me a minute but i only have an hour.


Monday, November 29, 2004

insurance forms [part two]:
- filled out
- photocopied
- and have been delivered to the encino post office.
consider: i should cook up my own drugs more often.

let's celebrate!
let's throw up cake!


Sunday, November 28, 2004

there was a letter stapled to the second set of insurance forms and today i made the mistake of reading what was typed out. it said, "get on the goddamn ball loser, because we are going to decide your claim based on the incomplete information we have in our file as early as next week." it also mentioned something about phoning the office within a particular amount of days but by then i was living in another level of white noise.

[[...what about the predictable ten day discrepancy between form letter and postmark? i will refrain from questioning authority even though that is a difficulty as described in section 14. "behave," a voice said. "but i am being have." meh. muttered about it to myself all afternoon.]]

why should i call them? the insurance corporation has a file that says i will not use a telephone. can they not read or do they not care..? other people probably said the same thing, but did phone in, and then ruined it for everyone. if severe does not mean severe what word should be used? basically in the course of this insurance review one must be able to prove one is unable and it is all so senseless. every question has a technical or psychological block.

sunday. remember there is no need to have an anxiety attack on a weekend and *pow* suddenly i can call everyone on earth, twice if needed, without any fear. hi, how are you? typical, i joke, but it is not. how many months out of my life is this insurance review going to take? this process began way back in september before the trip to southeast asia.

**i am tired of this topic and it is the only thing aside from swallowing too much eca this morning giving me grief.**

why can't they approve the damn claim and leave me alone? why can't these jacks figure it out that i am too sick to prove i am sick? obviously there is a lot of fraud so everyone pays by spinning plates and jumping through fiery hoops. the letters and forms state to do a, b, and c in order to collect on a claim that originally stated i am unable to do a, b, and c. if i do a, b, and c in a timely fashion, then my claim involving a, b, and c will automatically be approved.

note: how can they not see this problem?

isn't there anyone else like me out there thinking that maybe a supervisor of some sort might glance at my paperwork, pick it up, and say, "hold on. this claim suggests the inability to do a, b, and c, so how was this person able to submit a, b, and c? claim denied!" in a case like that, my past insurance claims could be challenged, couldn't they? this is very stressful to trust the system and to give the insurance company what they are requesting even if it does not make sense.

last friday i secured a new doctor and now the case should be approved without incident. everything will be fine if the paperwork is submitted soon and i am not sweating over the answer, rather, i just have to endure the anxiety until the end.

...but i cannot calm down and it is a different nervous this time... agitated, intolerant. i used the horn in my car today, yelling "come on, move it" and that is typical behavior of "flagrant the blogger" but certainly not "timid tristan." "tristan" buys cows for poor families living in the communes of cambodia and "flagrant" points at annoying people while stopped at traffic lights and says insane sentences like, "don't make me get out of this car."

sunday = no business hours.
anxiety is alleviated by having the answers
...or by getting things accomplished.
sunday afternoon = nothing can happen except stress.

calming down can begin when the insurance letter tells me i lost so bad that i won even though that in itself will just set up another wave of illness. when the claim is finalized, the plan is to book another flight to mandalay, arrange temporary residency with familiar monks in a monastery outside of the village of nyaung shwe, and relax.

it was secure in northern burma. there were vague beginnings of anxiety and eating disorder symptoms that never neared fruition. they have an inadequate clean water supply and no international branded foods available except for overpriced smuggled goods from thailand [like beaten up, sun faded cans of coke]. i should have been sicker than all of the flea bitten dogs but never came close. my stress in southeast asia was all about whether or not i had received more insurance forms in the mail while i was on vacation. more blistering barefoot walking around the snake-filled temples of bagan maybe, and no one will ever accompany me so why not take my shan and float on the river barge with the locals down the entire length of the ayeyarwady? though i have had my fill of deep fried spiders, and the inle sideshow that is the padaung tribe, these always are and will be the best days of my life.

sunday, should be a good day but my nose is, i swear, three times its size from crying and subsequent snot production. never did i mean to get this upset but a few of the facts relating to my health are very sad and then having to put that vocabulary to paper has been frightening.

[[my eating disorder is virtually over now... i have only been starving and barely exercise anymore... just an hour of cardio, two hours of running in the morning, and 25.3 miles on mountain bike trails a day, plus weights three times a week... see, i stopped jumping rope and throwing up... everything is better.]]

[[hello flagrant, like, is the fugue that thick?]]

fear is a good sign- i had never cared in the past and still resent how nobody ever says that many years after you are done with the ultimate level injury, on a boring day, one of your organs will start to fail. no one every says that you, yes you, will have phenomenal opportunities and they will be jeopardized by [-- deleted --]. most importantly, what happens when it gets so good you might actually want your body to function for another 50 years? if any of it was actually spoken, it was brushed off. i do appreciate time spent having none since now [-- deleted --].

the last insurance form is about finished but it will need to be rewritten... my depressed yet amped amphetamine hypernoia faux panic was an illegal guilty pleasure. so fun, and zippy, but there has to be another way to garner enough kick to complete exhaustive processes.


Saturday, November 27, 2004

while everyone else in this country was sleeping off the bird, the end of my thanksgiving was spent circling streets around the ucla campus in westwood. it was midnight and though expected to be deserted, was populated with many people who had nothing to do.

invalid friend the idiot passenger was supposed to be squinting out of the car window in an attempt to locate one particular numbered building. the entire procession was preparation for my doctor appointment-- we were confirming the office location in order to map out the mechanics and process of attendance.

instead of diligent attention, he excitedly spouted off easily ignored information and pointed out what he thought were hot cars. a classic but unrestored 60's muscle car parked on the street in the affluent westwood area is very uncool, but that fact is always lost on chuck. he is all about finding the perfect rough and grumble american beater just to avoid emission restrictions. like it matters, i let him talk. he doesn't even have a driver's license.

the next morning i used a hair dryer (sin) wore nail polish (sin) and was not ticketed while speeding to westwood for the appointment. with the location successfully scouted on the previous evening, my remaining concern revolved around 'being looked at' while walking from the only familiar parking garage, all of the way to the medical office location. the walk was less than one mile, but to endure several blocks of university aged terror, trend, sunlight, and congested traffic was an obstacle.

merging from the southbound 405 freeway and onto perpetually jammed wilshire boulevard went fine. what i wasn't prepared for was wide open driving lanes and ample street parking. ucla classes were not in session for the holiday weekend, and my usual problem with stepping down from the curbs along the way, well, there were only two.

the door. i knew the side office door was located on westwood boulevard since we had recently driven by, but thought there may have been another door-- a better door, a main door. instead that 'side door' turned out to be the only door. uggh. how was i to know the building had been sectioned into different sections and now the obvious 'front door' was actually the foyer of a restaurant! i saw my mistake upon the approach but somehow was able to turn around and use the correct side door even though 'being seen turning around and walking in the direction i had just come from' was admitting a mistake to the public. anyone who noticed me saw that i was not 100% certain of where i was going. ordinarily, some form of mental illness would have led me around the block in one huge circle to avoid the possibility anyone could define my idiocy.

the ucla campus was a ghost town, but i think i was talking to myself after noticing that the front door wasn't the correct entrance. possibly nobody saw, and big deal if they did, but suddenly i wished to have billions of people billowing around rather that none. not too many people were in the immediate vicinity, but that meant EVERYONE who even looked in my direction noticed that i walked past my original destination-- and obviously this means that i am new or stupid but at the very least it meant that i have never been there before which means i do not belong. remind me to attempt to schedule my future appointments, life, post office errands, and whatever else i do during rush hour.

the appointment was dandy and though my mind had a one track agenda, my mouth didn't work immediately. blah, blah, i have a disability insurance review which is causing me a lot of grief and... and... and then i trembled and my teeth chattered so the insurance review is in the bag, isn't it? it always has been, but for the most part, as long as i can somewhat walk and talk, i cannot fully consider myself sick. the hour resulted in a sheet of notes, two referrals, suggested twice weekly long term cognitive behavioral therapy and a phone number to set up a medication evaluation.

fine, the appointment unfolded fine, but i was clenched up and slightly jerky due to the inability to be as honest as possible. i didn't have the heart to tell him that i have no intention of ever seeing him again after my insurance is approved. that isn't attitude, fear, or scamming an insurance company for lower rates. instead, for this time being, it could be seen as a healthy choice on my part. a weekly session with this doctor would give me someone to starve for. the spaced out appointments would summon obsession with the numbers of time and loss. the currently determined symptoms may be clinically bad now, but they are not as bad as they once were, and i don't need to look in that exciting direction of ailment. also, how am i awarded the subsequent diagnosis of anxiety disorder if i can usually find it in me to extensively and successfully travel the world alone? how nervous can i really be if my likeness is seen on the advertisement on the back of one of the magazines in his waiting room?

on the other hand, i really need someone to talk to about how restricting this anxiety is. projects are coming up to a whole new scary publicity level soon, and my success may be noted to be greater than others, but in my case, achievements have been held back tremendously.

there is personal issue here, in that i have more education than this doctor, and this fact worked to dissociate myself from engaging. i kept thinking, "if he'd just agree to send my new medical profile when the insurance company comes calling, i'll be on my way."


Friday, November 26, 2004

a man i knew from the flyertalk forums committed suicide over the thanksgiving holiday during an overnight standoff with police. apparently he was caught having just stolen millions of dollars from investors, had a history of bank fraud, and also spent time in federal prison.


if today, the day after thanksgiving, is truly 'buy nothing day' rather than black friday, there should be more than five active people online. are we all supposed to believe that most american bloggers are still stuck sitting around the house making uncomfortable small talk with relatives? are these pleasantries really lasting this long? what could they all have to talk about? are these turkeys perpetuating the myth of tryptophan or do they know they are merely hung over from processing thanksgiving gluttony and stress? the secret is that they are all out walking off the bird.

thank god society is unable to restrict consumerism as otherwise it would bother me that i ventured out to pick up some of my obsessive cat's favorite food. paws, the loudmouthed bag of cat, should have been weaned off of inferior walmart 'special kitty' pouches by now, but he refuses to budge. seeing that he is a full-sized adult cat and can 'obstinate' himself down to only four pounds, at the age of ten, i will buy him anything he likes. he currently refuses to eat anything except for 'special kitty' turkey giblets and gravy, sushi, and the occasional bite of wild rice. for awhile he was on beans, bagels, avocado, glazed donut, and corn. the other day, the cat lapped up a bowlful of chuck's neon jalapeno cheese dip, which we thought would end up in a smelly disaster, but he kept in it on both ends and seemed to enjoy it.

so, it is black friday, it was not required that i leave the house, and still, the shopping went fine. i was prepared for the worst and looked at the situation as a form of therapy-- found a space at the back of the parking lot and just tried to believe that i always go into stores alone. there were a few problems with whichever -- agoraphobia or social phobia -- but the other shoppers were happy and chatty. they were certainly not 'armed for battle' or ready for 'cheap laptop tug-o-war' as the media tried to present. no one appeared ready to trample another human being for the sake of a discount.

where i live, people are aloof and never conversationalists unless: 1) they want to snidely bitch about an inept cashier while waiting in a slow check out line, 2) they are annoyed with a shopper at the front of the queue who is redeeming 30 or more 'beeping' manufacturers coupons, 3) they are suffering from a psychiatric illness and are on a drug holiday, or, 4) there was a natural disaster. shoppers said hello and random people said excuse me-- it was all very odd. i carried a hand-basket, weaved in and out of shopping cart traffic, kept my cool enough to read ingredient listings on product boxes, and browsed rather than tried to exit stores as quickly as possible.

even when the agoraphobic situation is somewhat successful like today, after 10 minutes or so in the business, i become overwhelmed with a combination of negative thoughts and an incredible self-loathing. for instance, i begin telling myself that i don't belong out because i am too ugly to exist-- let alone be seen in public. you would think that skinny model topic which follows me around and is confirmed by previous tax returns would cure some of the inferiority, but no.

now these thoughts of being the ugliest person alive cannot be fact since next year, instead of being one of several spokespeople for a hair care corporation, i have signed on to be the primary spokesperson. this does not edge close to spelling out a hideous tale of mask-like plaster foundation or of the need to hide indoors. the negative thoughts 'tell me' since i avoid noticing any advertisements for our brand's products, perhaps i am just the 'before' representation or the 'what not to wear' photo in the fashion advertisements. it doesn't compute but is completely real-- i get paid to look perfect but cannot bear to shop in public due to constant fear of being seen as a 'fashion don't.'

and the panic attack starts in a crowded aisle when feeling trapped... and i want to die... and thoughts go toward being a fashion disaster... it must be true... but i want to go home prior to dying to die in the safety of my own home... if only i could leave the store without being seen leaving the store... but i don't want to deal with this or queue with other customers at the register... what to do in line but nervously gaze at one's shoes or sum up each other's rank in relation to brands while frowning at the conveyor belt assembly of decisions... i don't want to leave without buying anything as to possibly look like a shoplifter, either... and the panic continues... and suddenly i am concerned about starting to sweat through my shirt even though that would never happen since the eating disorder always provides the chill... and the madness gets frustrating... there is an anxious stabbing in my chest... and i have to get back to the car immediately before strangers start to hate, point, and throw two pound packages of those tacky, gift wrapped 'hickory farms' christmas cheese and sausage boxes at me... and then a loud voice says, "wow! you have great hair!" and i'm definitely getting out of this store... and wait a minute...

a man gave me a complement. on the return to earth i stopped, turned around, smiled and said, "thank you." the world calmed. after managing the check out line, i ran a few other errands in the plaza before returning home. though i did start to relax, all previous worries had been replaced with one desperate prayer: "please don't let me run into that man again today." what would i say? would i nod to him? i am queen when it comes to making and then watching strangers squirm during the instances of nervous lapses in conversation, shouldn't i know how to handle it myself?

the complement changed the entire course of my friday, which was very nice, because i often forget that not only do i hate, but i should not have to constantly live in my own head.


Thursday, November 25, 2004

this was the worst day of the year.

at 10:13pm, food has yet to be mentioned.

it's 12 hours away from the doctor appointment, threads on my cappadocia pants have decided to unravel, and there are no stores open in the entire country which sell replacement black zippers.

now what?
my emergency pair doesn't hold any mysterious influence.

grateful it happened at home, i guess.

:(


i was shocked awake by atrial fib possibly five different times last night. weakness, constriction, low blood pressure, scared to death, i promise to be better, et cetera... originally thought the loudmouthed cat was cleaning himself on the bed but actually my heart was physically moving blanket, blood, and lifebox.

"you won't live to see the age of --," old physician said.
mm-hmm, and what day is today?


Wednesday, November 24, 2004

more insurance review papers were in the mailbox today. the huge red stamp that says "second notice" can be seen through both envelopes but they have been tossed in the pile on my desk.

flagrant says: "kill me! hurry up! i won't even yell. just cut me."

brain says: "we talked about this. it is after five o'clock on a weekday, tomorrow is a holiday, and you have the doctor appointment on friday. it was only scheduled to tend to these forms so calm down. it's fine."

flagrant says: "i don't give one damn about your attempt at facts. i am going to have a heart attack as it is due to friday's appointment AND these forms! so what if this unlisted doctor sounds like mister rogers on his voicemail message? IT'S STILL FRIGHTENING! what if i don't arrive at the office on time? then i'm screwed with finishing these forms! i'd never even try to go back to see him AND then would have to start the appointment process over again with someone else AND i'll have to see the insurance people's own doctor anyway, who obviously won't understand the my use of the word agoraphobia if i am sitting right there in his office AND what if i can't even get to that appointment? what the hell am i going to wear on friday anyway? i can't keep wearing my cappadocia pants for reassurance. two days ago i was the thinnest person on earth so how is it that i'm pretty sure i won't be able to fit into the car on friday. i don't even know where this new doctor's office is!? it's in westwood?? THERE'S NEVER ANY PARKING IN WESTWOOD DURING THE DAYTIME!!! what are you out of your mind?? who the hell set this appointment up? i can't go there!! this is--"

brain says: "so park at the ucla medical complex and walk. it's $7.00"

flagrant says: "cows aren't allowed on the ucla campus and i'm not paying an additional $7.00 just to go somewhere and tell someone that i am crazy, but not as crazy as i was, but crazy enough to still need this insurance, but not crazy enough to be brushed off. i'm not going anywhere. i like it here. this is my house. what if there's traffic? what if i take the wilshire eastbound exit from the freeway and CANNOT MERGE onto wilshire because it's always super busy there with mean road raging people and i end up unable to merge and just re-entering the 405 northbound? GOD! GOD! GOD! then i'd have to drive all the way back to sunset boulevard and what if i get forced into ANOTHER lane and then am turned around somewhere in brentwood? should i take sepulveda? oh my lord i am going to die before i get in a car accident on the way there and then in the afterlife this is going to look SO lame compared to the blind guy without legs and the other guy standing next to me who accidentally died by falling into the wood chipper. screw everything. no, hold on... here's the deal... if i win the lottery, i don't have to go."

brain says: "what?!"

flagrant says: "no really, think about it. what would be the point? i wouldn't need the insurance because i could pay full price for any old hospital bill, medicine, or coverage and people with that much money are expected to have quirks. it's fine. let's make this happen."

brain says: "winning tens of millions in a lottery will only ten-fold your problems and you are much too lucky for that to happen."

flagrant says: "hey, wait a minute. these forms don't say "second notice" they say "second request." that doesn't make any sense. if it said "second notice" then it would be acceptable to be stamped in red ink, but "second request" is much more courteous and should be stamped in light blue or maybe a non-threatening light green ink. at the very worst, "second request" could be stamped in black, but only if the letter itself was printed with black ink. tsk. nobody has a clue to the statements they make. meh. color is a language, dammit! tomorrow is a five thousand calorie thanksgiving day and the next day is a five thousand calorie thanksgiving leftover day and i'm still freaking out about everything and now i have to go pick up invalid friend from work and i'm going to die from nerves first and......"


[wednesday's neurotic blog entry is temporarily unavailable]


Tuesday, November 23, 2004

- chuck had an appointment at the dmv which went fine.
- two normal looking people asked for spare change to use the pay phone.
- forced invalid friend and his clodhoppers into a shoe store.
- bought him two pairs of inexpensive steve madden shoes.
- parked at ikea and actually shopped.
- managed the art store for a portfolio tube and watercolor paper.
- bought clarifying, calorie free, borba skin balance water.
- test rode haro and ellsworth mountain bikes but did not buy.
- went to a bmw dealer to potentially buy a pre-owned MINI cooper s to flip.
- it was over double original msrp and still not perfect.
- believe it or not, the dealer will get that out of someone, too.
- i wish i wish i wish...
- living in southern california is disturbing.
- if i lived somewhere else, it wouldn't even matter.


five drafts are just waiting to be born.


Monday, November 22, 2004

monday involved a mentally retarded [oh pardon me, "special needs"] painter [hired by the homeowners association] who inadvertently painted part of my beige house bright blue and then in nervous frustration also accidentally kicked over a few open cans of paint [which ran down the walls and pooled after dripping to the bottom of the stairs]. [see, i would have thought to take off my shoes, but...] footprints on the paving stones make this place look like a crime scene. sidewalk chalk outlining an outstretched arm is desperately needed, since otherwise there is no hilarity.


Friday, November 19, 2004

random things and events of the day:
a tube of bonne bell tinted strawberry-scented lip gloss excited an itchy allergic reaction. a leather car coat was purchased for invalid friend under the guise of being a necessity for work. sure, why not? in jest, a dog collar was belted around my waist and this action inspired an important voicemail message requesting a doctor's appointment to finally come to fruition. as we enter the holiday season, novelty cartoon notepads were exchanged for those with winter snowflakes, snowmen, and printing which states to "chill out." an opi "i'm not really a waitress" red manicure reluctantly fingered a regifted mini cooper promotional snowglobe and placed it awkwardly in the living room. anyone lounging on the floor to play our space invaders arcade games would be certain to shake the glass and cause a supercharged storm.

a fedex courier knocked, and delivered a large greeting and appreciation parcel. such undesired and sickening corporate luxury! a company's thank you presented fresh flaky cheese flauta, huge gourmet caramel and apple chip cookies, a very expensive michele 'mini urban' watch with purple alligator strap, a gift certificate good toward a eurodib commercial panini grill ribbed sandwich press, and a kate spade leather photo album-- all packaged in a personalized promotional box. food. when in doubt of a person's interests, i imagine the default is to send trendy food products and professional cooking conveniences.

consider: wouldn't it be better to say 'panino' grill, which refers to a single panino sandwich, rather than the plural 'panini' grill?


toy store adventures part II:

are glass cat's eye shooter-sized marbles illegal in california? why did hasbro decide that the public would be better served if play-doh was sold in a bag instead of a can?! in the year 2004, i have to ask: is there really a demand for teenage mutant ninja turtles action figures?


Thursday, November 18, 2004

tomorrow: dresden dolls show at el rey
saturday: devendra banhart at echo
today: sick and irritable


Wednesday, November 17, 2004

[edit: web link outdated and therefore removed]

a quick search of the web reveals that both stephen king and i have died from complications related to anorexia nervosa. anorexia, never thin enough to call itself by name, will remains gossip in death as the final certificates will only list cardiac complications. the surprising part isn't that whoever made the page is incorrect about our passings- it's that stephen king and i are both named in the same sentence!


toys 'r' us is complete crap! isn't it supposed to be a huge toy store with billions of games, monster-sized stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling, and kids screaming that they are not leaving until their parents purchase the gotta-have-it toy of the month?

not good to date myself here, but before today i probably haven't been to a toys 'r' us since the invention of touch tone phones or back when the stores were selling farrah fawcett barbie dolls. they should stock every fun and annoying toy known to exist, but many shelves were empty and i had the impression the clerks were not expecting shoppers. i was browsing for band stuff, not necessarily knowing what would be bought until it was found, but eventually walked out empty handed. shouldn't they at least sell hula hoops and fishnet bags of marbles? whatever happened to cool sounding toy instruments? not a metal xylophone or shrill sounding pianosaurus in sight unfortunately now means a future trip to wal-mart or target.


band stuff:
- fisher price pull-a-tune xylophone
- 300 pieces of silverware, mostly spoons
- enough glass marbles to fill a large coffee can
- an authentic hard plastic gabriel gigglestick


... decided on doctor #1 and even called to set up an appointment, but was only given his direct telephone number [which means unless i try to call 50 times it will only result in voicemail since he obviously has patients]. it is not that voicemail is a problem, it's just that i would rather limit myself to being a recorded wreck right here on this blog and not on someone's phone message. a google search gathers no information as to whether this doctor is in private practice or not and honest to god, you would think more than two or three medical citations mentioning him would show up online. i would really rather talk with a secretary in regard to setting up this initial appointment, if he even has one. i'm beginning to wonder if this guy works out of his car.

... and the week goes by, and nothing is getting done except my hair color which is now a perfect champagne blonde and much better than yesterday's warm yellow television commercial blonde. thank god. five times in a row when leaving my house i was approached, but getting asked out at the gas station by men with nothing to lose is not how i intend to go about curing my loneliness. i am not an automatic bitch, rather, just would prefer not to get groped in a '84 trans am while listening to a yngwie malmsteen collection. even though it always looks slightly off, the yellowy hue always tends to attract too many eyes. hopefully champagne beige hair coloring, while not drab, is toned down enough to avoid this phenomenon.


last night i flew from van nuys airport to santa barbara and back with my superagent in a gulfstream III executive jet. he had intended to chat, but was inevitably preoccupied. i spent the time with [agonizing] bankable posture, following the 101 freeway from the sky. afterwards we went to mcdonald's drive thru. (?) he is so strange and such an ass- reciting our order to the speaker in spanish.


Tuesday, November 16, 2004

do i get more embarrassed for what was originally written here, or of going back and noticeably sending the once published posts to draft?


my favorite swing trading stock was sold yesterday up $1.27 on 3000 shares, which is great, except the damn thing is still hanging there at the same price today. it is overvalued and has a higher potential to crash than skyrocket... but... but it might and people are betting that it will more than triple.

last year i bought a bunch of stock around 35 cents and then sold it the next month at $60 a share. why do i even dream anymore? that was probably my one chance in a lifetime. from the look of time and sales charts, this morning the major financial institutions are loading up on the stock i just sold.

fine, i'm back in. well now what, greed?


Monday, November 15, 2004

[diluted blog]


i am sitting here paging through the telephone book and considering whether or not to hire an independent doctor for a disability evaluation. how do i go about this? should i just look up clinics and schedule a way into their system? call an individually listed physician? hospitals? urgent care centers? this isn't urgent care. it might be. it could be. it will be. crisis intervention? no. well, not yet. i just want to schedule my own review with an unknown doctor, fill out the insurance forms, completely avoid interacting with doctor ben, and then kill this damn blog topic.

brain says: "just call one of the 200 physicians listed in the phone book and remember to use the words disability insurance evaluation."

sudden panic attack.
i can't use the phone.
where IS the phone?
the loudmouthed cat wants the open yellow pages to be his new bed.
...and get off of my keyboard, too!
phone is found.

call invalid friend.
thought i couldn't use the phone?
invalid friend says, "did you have another pot of coffee?"
no. none.
what does he mean by offending me with that piggish word?
hang up.
har har. jerk.

the first psychiatrist in the book who refused to spell his last name with additional letter a's was contacted: bruce bielinksi, ucla trained idiot. well, i went to school there a few centuries before christ supposedly walked the earth too, so i wouldn't be bragging about this institution, guy.

phone rings.
he, rather than a secretary, answers the phone.
scary.
he says, "bielinski."

THIS IS MY NEW GAME! from now on i WANT to answer the phone and will only state my last name as to piss people off.

me: "do you perform independent evaluations for disability insurance reviews?"
him: "welllllllllll..."

[this means yes, but he doesn't want to do it, right?]

him: "well, i could. what's it for?"
me: "affective and anxiety disorders.. anorexia nervosa, major depressive disorder, ocd- occasionally housebound by agoraphobia six random months out of the year."
him: "you should see a general practitioner unless it's a psychiatric claim."

hello?
perhaps i need a speech therapist, too?
[grumble]
...and an axe?!
[gasp!]
i bet people hear housebound and think incredibly obese!!!

call invalid friend.
accidentally redial hearing impaired doctor.
hang up quick.
dial again.
chuck never answers.

[shut up big scary world!]
[shut up stupid sony stereo!]
[shut up nick cave!]

sit here.
refresh individual stock portfolio window.
stock is up a quarter on 3000 shares.
atta boy!
same old plan: be rich enough to afford myself.

[more phone calls]

doctor ben does not hate me. when my insurance membership at kaiser permanente ended, i ceased to exist. he simply no longer has any access to my medical records. wow, that is such a good answer. i would say the same thing to someone like me.

with this default divorce, it means i do not need to schedule a review, rather, i immediately need to find and choose a new doctor. where am i going to locate a physician who understands everything and nothing, most of the time, and also understands how phenomenal that is on occasion.

[three telephone calls later]

i might cry.

my previous $400/hour world famous doctor at ucla who never kept appointments is on a research sabbatical. i don't necessarily like him, but appreciate his name recognition. a warbling receptionist suggested i choose between two meaningless referrals. the first is a doctor who cannot seem to settle on a constant first name-going from dan, to david, and then daniel. might he be a she? perhaps, even danielle? the second physician has written a book called Solitary Pleasures: The Historical, Literary, and Artistic Discourses of Autoeroticism.

consider: choosing by physician's photograph
consider: choosing by number of books currently in print
consider: choosing by location, free parking, and traffic
consider: referral #2 and his sexual quirks

one particular book review refers to the masturbatory topic as pollution by the hand. too funny. too pious. purging definitely relates similar emotional experiences as sex, but juvenile imagery only suggests masturbating the wrong end. vicious pleasures of solitude? me, my, and a chyme pie? it's hardly speculative. really, how could one sit in front of this doctor and not consider the slapping sound of his research?

damn, when reaching for the phone my voice still nervously starts to crack.


you googled:
- why fat people should not bungy jump
- flagrant tristan holland park address
[note: it's bond street, dear. now go rest your furry head.]
- fucking in yangon
- shwethalyaung pagoda
- how to be anorexic
- my methcathinone is blue, why?
[note: perhaps stearic acid contamination: FAQ]


Sunday, November 14, 2004

it could be good to stop living in the Land of Frivolous Reassurance.
- or am i just seeking out another excuse to avoid people?


- several participants in a yahoo deaf-wannabe fetish forum who are working on crossing the bridge [that is, purposely damaging their hearing with high powered hearing aids as to cross over to deafness] are unsuccessfully exchanging tips and infliction tricks online. so incompetent are their non-verbal communication skills, they have decided it can only be accomplished with face-to-face conversations and are arranging meet-ups.

now lacking a prevailing calculus, but insisting on complete consideration, who gets a small d in a Deaf culture? had they instead studied psychology, would they go blind? is this my personal fetish? no. long story short, i once lived in a hearing intolerant household.

- what is the obsession with in-n-out hamburgers? every time i have driven to las vegas, my passenger insists on stopping there for double-doubles. even motherfigure, who avoids fast food as much as possible, opted for in-n-out twice in one weekend when i met up with her for the u2 show in vegas a few years back.


Saturday, November 13, 2004

nightmare: my rep was irritable.

idling in his mclaren slr supercar, we were ignoring the white zone at los angeles international airport. he told me that crispin glover is not only a difficult monster and dangerous, but is also on a hard candy kick, mostly sucking on butterfinger bars to see how long he could make them last.

"do you mean werther's original butter toffee," i asked, but was abandoned with only an expired bag of snack-sized twix bars. the easter candy calories were specifically to protect my bony arms.

i flew home to my family's house for thanksgiving but brother dearest was still a nintendo occupied 12 year-old and motherfigure had gone to great lengths in thailand attempting to retrieve a rambutan for anorexic dessert.

grandfather put on a red mesh baseball cap and drove me to central illinois in a bread delivery truck that had been converted into a recreational vehicle. he grouched the entire drive about my excessive yet inferior life, offered tips for normalcy, and told me to go back to new york.

along the way, billboards and illuminated signs warned of crispin's terror.

when my grandfather was preoccupied at a service station, i ditched the going nowhere trip metaphor by bolting but kept slipping, tripping, and dropping the chocolate. for my grand finale, i fell down. my eyes opened, crispin shadowed and rather than saying "butterfinger" creepily said "werther's butter....toffee."

i woke up scared.


nightmare: several moist streusel-topped muffins were stuck in the engine of my car. in the dark, a man with lank hair and long fingernails propped open the hood and tried to pick them out. though we never touched, he scratched me when praline pecans fell down a cylinder. i knew he had muffin intention but i just wanted to drive.


Friday, November 12, 2004

my superstitious watch says it is at the close of business on a friday and since no disability insurance forms have been received since way back in september, there are rocks on the tracks ahead. the second round of supplement forms were assumed due to appear in the mailbox last month on the day i left for bangkok, and since nothing has arrived aside from numerous unwanted mrs. field's holiday cookie catalogues, any day now the paperwork will show and put me into a near hysterical nervous state.

ocd says: "it could happen today. act nuts."
brain says: "eventually it will happen, calm down for now."
flagrant thinks: my heart is going to explode.

for the last two months i prepped, mostly by talking to myself in the car, and have arrived at the conclusion that i should not be affected when the forms come- no not me. fear of paperwork? pfft.. give me a break. all i have to do is fill them out and should their distribution occur on a weekend, no way will i even CARE until daybreak of the following monday.

[i said.]

life goes on, mostly at 35,000 feet, skip ahead:

even though obsessive compulsive disorder instructed me to avoid all of the black floor tiles on the trip downstairs, not one but two thick and battered envelopes were in today's mail. through the cellophane address window, one could see the contents was appropriated on november 2nd. today is the 12th. damn. no wait, the postmark was smudged on november 10th. as expected, i appear to have secured lateness prior to awareness.

trembling today, teeth even chattered, but no one scares me- manipulative bitch. [waves bony knuckles] this isn't happening. hey! i avoid mines in cambodia for fun. remember- these forms are not a big deal. at the rate the insurance reviewers work, will they even notice the supplementation if received before next year?

never an immediate mischel marshmallow youth, i lick 'em now, but holy crap and a half! scary form #1 is to be delivered to my physician in person because he has not yet reported back with awful words. you know what this means! oh my god. this means he hates me! i am genuinely disliked as i have stated all along. doctor ben is trying to pawn me off on someone else, isn't he?! several blank release forms were signed to deny all application for consternation and not to bring up incriminating awareness of egotistical disposition. well, screw him and laugh at those muppet children of his on the way out. a bastard with a mediocre education who basically gave up by electing to work for a hmo should never be heard anyway.

it's friday, and these can be filed until later, but i had to look:

scary form #2 ------:
1) print or type.
2) DO NOT LEAVE ANSWERS BLANK.
3) DO NOT ask a doctor, hospital, or anyone else to complete this form.
note: REMEMBER to print the name and address of any person completing this form for you on page 10.
---------------------

that's it- over and out.


nightmare: phoebe from television's "friends" left her docile yellow boa constrictor at my house. she forgot its cage and it felt clammy like a mango. hugh grant held it up in the air and with plummy syllabication declared this should not bother me. well, it did because i knew all along lisa kudrow was a transvestite.


morrissey | universal amphitheater [11-11-2004]
down by the ocean it was so dismal

how soon is now?
first of the gang to die
november spawned a monster
don't make fun of daddy's voice
bigmouth strikes again
i like you
redondo beach
munich air disaster 1958
rubber ring
irish blood english heart
the world is full of crashing bores
now my heart is full
the never played symphonies
i have forgiven jesus
subway train / everyday is like sunday
you know i couldn't last
let me kiss you
last night i dreamt that somebody loved me
there is a light that never goes out


Thursday, November 11, 2004

fact: i just transferred a very lucrative house sitting job in england to a last minute substitute for mansion benefits only.

note: i am getting paid to do nothing and the substitute is not getting paid to secure an extremely nice house and maintain the owner's dogs.

by the skin of my teeth and with those perennial buckets of luck, mileage runner nutcase or not, i will never be running errands in between a four hour london gatwick to heathrow connection ever again.

but... it worked out.


Wednesday, November 10, 2004

something is definitely wrong: today i used the word delighted.


while i was traveling in south east asia last month, invalid friend chuck and his new promotion relocated far from the northridge fashion center area (only if considering the traffic drive time) to an upscale base which covers the higher income areas south of the san fernando valley. it turns out that a famous radio talk show host is one of chuck's new clients, as is pop star avril lavigne. we are excited to now know kfi radio's bill handel.

invalid friend's new promotion means rather than: 1) staring blankly at never updated websites at 3:00am, or, 2) waiting for the morning exercise hour to approach, i now can now epitomize susie homemaker. ironing chuck's shirts, organizing his files, and driving him to work during the daylight is good therapy. the additional chores are attended to without complaint, and will last until chuck is secure in that position. i don't mind, but am obsessed with perfecting his life. the problem is not 'if' he will screw it all up, the worry stems from the idea of 'when.'

i am busy and chatty today-- perhaps content? my favorite day trading stock is dropping and there is no time to rechart it or e-mail an opinion. another mileage runner from a flyertalk forum mentioned holding a reservation on the same international flight i board today. i bet you crisp dollar bills he turns out to be a checked shirted sears dork who doesn't eat up movies the way he blindly chokes down potato chips. if i had it made (or more airline vouchers) someone out there in the blogosphere would be dragged along for conversation.

oh, stop wondering because i love everyone.
introversion comes across as being a bitch, i know.
how do people take 'shy' to automatically mean 'aloof' or 'arrogant?'
why not 'tremendously interested' but too nervous to try, act, or speak?

even if this were a domestic one day trip instead of a quick turnaround in london, i would be somewhat scared to ask another person to accompany me on a flight. what if everyone approached replied, "why would i want to do that?" well... the excitement surrounding the threat of the risk! the things which could go wrong along the way! the best story is in the misadventure-- not found at the destination. nothing ever happened in london without a visit to a pub. why not fly to london gatwick, paris, miami, or newark and immediately fly home? why just slouch by the light of the television? i guess i just have an alternative definition and version of fun.

two pots of coffee this morning catalyzed sending a package of compact discs to mark, the man who presented his schizophrenia to me one strange day in holland. it's going on two years since sharing that misty afternoon, but why not? perhaps mark no longer wanders the streets of rotterdam, but, what if the parcel arrives and sparks a confirmation for him? mark had mentioned that everyone he has ever met has thrown him away. "you'll forget about me." funny, i'd ordinarily take that as a manipulative measure if spoken from anyone else. compact discs filled with bootlegged u2 shows and an assortment of photographs-- i hope mark can receive and also find an enjoyment from them.

consider: how to tell someone of the weight their impression has left with you, without it sounding corny? compound that question, and all its implications, with the positive influence and potential disaster a foreign language can offer.


[mood is evolving into zippy, hypermaniacal Elevated Mood]
[this overcaffeination could easily be confused with mania]
[have been avoiding caffeine since traveling in cambodia]

a few days ago, while wearing too much approachability in an airline lounge, a redheaded man gave me ten certificates for free airport parking. these vouchers can be used at one of those exorbitantly expensive parking garages that will detail your automobile and change the oil while you are away. wow! this may prove that outward esteem and a 'happy to be alive' approach is indeed good. [note: long as nothing too annoying falls out of your mouth.] a coupon-- sure, i'm game to try and trust leaving my car under insured control. it will be interesting to specifically test and then watch parking attendants fail to differentiate between the concept of 'away' and 'gone.'

sudden anxiety and fear: is my car good enough to take to one of these frou-frou parking venues? do i own a valet-worthy transportation? it doesn't matter, but it does! what about 'washing the car' before it goes to get detailed by this establishment, and all that image problem nonsense? why am i putting myself through this? not now. i need to talk myself out of the house and get to britain, not convince myself to remain indoors. doubt sucks. my car is transportation. it is not inferior. fear also sucks, especially when having enough insight to fear that fear, but not be ready to engage change.

okay, i'm late.

log off.
live life.
pray to the mileage gods for an international upgrade.
calm down.


Tuesday, November 09, 2004

"no, i don't see them," the new librarian assistant said to me. "are you sure you had the books forwarded here rather than over to another branch?" oh brother. here slouches the frump who obviously filled the $8 an hour protected position, the clip art production which had been on display under glass in a case by the door.

"f-ck you," i would never say to anyone, anywhere. "who out of the two of us, is in the wrong place in the world?" i didn't say that either. she reached for and scanned my public library card, then keyed a few strokes.

"hmmm. well, they're here but they're not here," she tried. this is where i amused myself with unwavering eye contact and the awkward silence but she decidedly squirmed. not too often do i successfully get to the library, no way would i be leaving empty-handed.

i smiled, "it's hard to be new." what the heck was that?! compassion? did i say it out loud? what is going on? am i on medication? is this what happens without coffee? shouldn't it be the other way around? who approved of this distilled moment? why am i not sharpening my teeth?

the regular, now i never said normal, librarian approached. you know the type. he opts for his favorite of six similar and faded checked dress shirts, wears comfortable fake leather shoes, and who upon check out holds each library book in both hands, pointedly announcing the title before scanning its code.

"a prayer for burma," he stated last time. "no no no, you were just in morocco. you can't be traveling to burma already and without me."

"so pack a bag and get in the car," but the look which followed told me he was stuck there. i hate that.

this time as the quintessential librarian neared, he held out a book and jerked it at me, "yoooo-oo have a fine."

delinquent? i'm a humanitarian!

"so?"

he laughed and informed the new assistant that they have given me my own shelf for reserved books... as though breaking the rules and having 32 texts on hold is possibly rare, something to talk about, or is needing to have special accommodation. maybe my striving for equanimity should begin with the los angeles public library.


wednesday and thursday | the big plan:
- frequent flyer mileage run to london gatwick/heathrow
- using back to back ticketing on two different carriers
- shucks, only domestic upgrade notifications
- and only four hours of british ground time

outbound and inbound:
1) drive to los angeles airport
2) fly to detroit metro
3) connect to minneapolis
4) continue to london gatwick
5) splurge on the nonstop gatwick express to victoria station
6) underground to holland park tube stop
7) pick up contract and house key for house sitting job
8) underground one stop over to shepherd's bush tube stop
9) drop off key with my substitute house sitter
10) race to london heathrow
11) fly nonstop to los angeles
12) drive directly to morrissey show @ universal amphitheatre
13) drive home


the kansas city mileage run worked out and was fun, too. a few weeks ago i would have been too protective to even mention this trip to the middle of nowhere, thinking it was somehow pathetic, or strangely excessive and embarrassing.

a long time ago in what almost seems like another life, ross and i lived together. it was in a small town located in a different region of the world. hearing that he has since moved, en route, i telephoned and suggested that he "bring the wife" if he wanted and we could go out on sunday night. how naive am i? ross showed up to the kansas city airport without her and refused to tell me the gregarious lies he had planned. how does one do that? in the end he would have been missing from home for 24 hours. how do you explain that? thank god i never decided to marry someone like him.

ross has a federal security clearance and abuses the private information those credentials can reveal. after truthfully answering whether or not i am married [i am not] i spent extended periods of time sunday night being quizzed as to whether or not "i was sure." there is a marriage certificate out there in the world with my name on it and being public record, i know ross knows about it but he does not know whether or not it was ever validated. it feels like since he can uncover anything official about me, and does, i struggle desperately with not wanting to give up inconsequential facts. ross never mentioned he knew a marriage license exists, and so i did not let on. had he just told me that he had been rooting through my records maybe i could have brought up the other possibilities. maybe [the other person listed on the marriage license] has died? what about a divorce? annulment? what if we were two idiot kids who applied for the application late one night but never proceeded to have it recorded? none of that was asked directly and so i refused to donate the information.

- during a perfectly acceptable restaurant situation, ross invited the eating disorder monster to join us by innocently suggesting that, "oh look, you can get a garden salad. you're set." i am ninety some pounds, six foot tall, have weighed less, and that salad could not possibly be more than 60 calories. why was this suggested to be a safe meal option? why would i even bother? what a complete waste of time. how much more weight do i need to lose to get people to stop suggesting i basically should eat nothing? yes, i understand what he meant but people out of the loop only reinforce fat thoughts by going along with what the anorexia needs to thrive and it is funny how we all fall back into our old roles. "well maybe next time i will be thin enough to order real food," i said. "kansas city. i had thought i'd order beef." whether or not it was true (it wasn't) the menu was closed and while i watched him eat, water was sipped without my lips on the straw. why not roll play and recite old memorized lines? i will never see him again and biting the straw reinforced how awful certain problems used to be.

- a few other things got under my skin, but they didn't start pissing me off until having boarded the airplane the next morning: he knows my customs and immigration record, that i recently purchased land in los angeles county, and what vehicles are titled in my name. this must be driving him nuts to know that one of the cars shares a title in the same name as he saw on the marriage license. those facts i could never hide, but he does not know my true address or telephone number and i believe keeping all utilities information in another person's name is going to continue. what information is considered public record rather than confidential anyway?

- i feel sick now having described the restaurant scenario because it is illness masked as bitchiness and those asinine actions can only happen around people who are familiar with the awful times. he knew what cars i own... this is beginning to sink in. i purged the ross situation twice last night after arriving home and now feel even worse which goes against the "big plan" of no longer hurting myself over other people. invalid friend asked me if i was about done with this eating disorder cycle yet and i let love own the sentence rather than letting twisted condescension win. i never considered beating him to death with a bat while he slept after that statement, but once upon a time...

- aside from all of that, the normalcy of the region was appreciated and it was amusing to walk around and see people dressed for comfort rather than fashion- until my ocd got sick of it all and started bitching to every dowdy female in my head. isn't it a crime to be dumpy in public? completely unacceptable where i live. the luxurious hotel was without (typically priced) $18 cans of diet coke in the minibar which was fine by me.

- drove to kansas. lawrence. sondre lerche sang. it was a little grey.

newark liberty airport

- on the return, near the gate area in newark, a familiar looking man i could not place was trying to get my attention by staring, but there was no chance he was going to be acknowledged before i remembered his name. after boarding and having stowed my carry on in window a, he entered the aircraft and we looked at each other. [ding! matt the computer programmer... shared a flight with him from london gatwick to minneapolis in november of 2002.. he was flying home after attending a wedding in scotland. i had been at an art exhibit in holland. damn, i never answered his most recent e-mail..] matt got to my row and in a real loud voice said, "FLAGRANT!!" it turned out he was in row 92874748 and insisted i walk back and chat with him after take off.

- no problem. i walked back to economy before pushback and, of course, there were no empty seats in the intended vicinity. matt asked if his seatmate would switch with me but that guy wasn't very receptive. another man sitting in the seat across the aisle was watching the conversation, so i gestured to the front cabin and before finishing mouthing the words "first class" he was gone. non-receptive man was noticeably irritated. ha, good.

- whoever would have thought that a four hour domestic cattle class connection in aisle d would rank as one of my best trips?


Saturday, November 06, 2004

sunday's big plan:
frequent flyer mileage run on continental airlines

outbound:
1) drive to los angeles airport
2) fly to houston texas
3) connect to newark new jersey
4) continue on to kansas city missouri

options:
a) sleep in airport
b) reserve $hotel$ with free shuttle service
c) rent reserved car + check into roach motel

good and bad possibilities:
1) drive to lawrence kansas for sondre lerche show
2) phone old friend [ross] en route knowing he would drop everything, drive five hours, and lie to his wife for the chance to watch television with me in a hotel room

inbound:
5) from kansas city fly to newark
6) connect to houston
7) continue home to los angeles


a [vague acquaintance, musical interlude] thinks i should ask around to see if any people have a straight vegetable oil powered vehicle (svo), veggie van, or biodiesel truck available for her friend's band to use. they will be touring the united states for a month or two this winter.

surely [vague acquaintance, musical interlude's] friend, who we will not be referring to as [the somewhat famous ham-armed indie musician named mirah, who is currently on every playlist across the country] can buy an alternative fuel vehicle and then sell it with relative ease. this friend of [vague acquaintance, musical interlude], who as an abhorrent aversion to owning a car, tries to squeak by on the technicality that she leases them.

since owning a sweet and tiny eco-appearing supercharged MINI S model with an added ravenously venomous nitrous kit, i somewhat expect to be ostracized from any portland scene upon introduction.


we are fighting. invalid friend is yelling. i am crying. he is throwing around obnoxious and loud statements while i sit in silent wet arrogance. the snotty hiccups feel fraudulent and my brain is damning this body for showing an incorrect emotion. uncontrolled yet clever, the velvet shoulder of my friday night henley will not be drying out anytime soon, and it appears i risk or remain. too funny, where would i go?

earlier in his day and bored, invalid friend had the rare chance to consider how his own maladaptive behaviors result in padding my savings account, and for this i suffer in tonight's situation.

how dare he raise his voice to me, i seriously believe that statement, but only the swearing is frightening. the flagrant of last year would have used the bullshxt billboard to unfairly demand pain and disruption on her own terms, but in this virtual 2005 i should avoid incident. too long as a dependent and finally physically able to carry the egg basket, i am about to take my toothbrush and go. now, if i could only blow up the theatre.

i sit here under the first click of the lamp and am either deaf or detached from his ranting. visualizing the documentary clapboard snap, his behavior is narrated to a future film audience. "it is here we watch the male of the species edge toward codependency," i smile inside but snuffle and choke as invalid friend carries on. "normally heralded as a weak female tactic, he will soon verge into unfairness and then resort to abusive name calling." his knee is slapped while something is grunted about his eggs being in my basket. well who put them there? no answer.

never an understudy but suddenly playing the star role of alpha male, you should see this stumbling gorilla alternate between lumber and career, currently pounding around my apartment with his chest puffed out. has he walked with such purpose during the last six months as he does tonight? no. he has a point, an issue, and this somehow bought posture. skewing off into another senseless tangent, he says i can easily clean up the financial disagreement by promising to purchase another bicycle for him.

[link: santa cruz heckler]

how much does it cost?
it's $4400. no chance, not even in a frozen over hell.

"well?" he says, and stands with one hand on his hip. it is two hours later and i keep thinking about this sopping shirt, dryness, the arid desert in morocco, and wondering just how much rain it takes before the weather will absorb into the cracked white earth out on the flats near the algerian dunes. certainly i am not wet enough to hear invalid friend.

"well...?" he tries again, purposely extending the ell to aggravate my obsessed preoccupation with enunciation. i remain blank- mimicking each other in silly voices is yet to come. after a few minutes i state that in order for him to successfully complete the current psychological cycle, i must remain emotionally unavailable, therefore no answer can be given.

facts are always the wrong answer.
one of these days i am sure to get decked.


Friday, November 05, 2004

dear blog,

with one click you can tether me to two horrible years ago when in fact, now i only try for tomorrow. i will accept what was made but hate it when you stand behind my back and flail madly in both directions. die, won't you? from now on this site is only scratch paper to match your chicken dance.

regards,
flagrant


dear blog,

if i stopped worrying about other people's opinions and pithy comments, how could i be trusted to live a freshly laundered lifestyle? rather than going to pot and fretting about potential obesity, i would rather remain concerned over the imagined wrinkled forehead even if it means throwing up now and then to relieve some stress.

thanks for your ever prompt and asinine reply,
flagrant


ignorant and tacky tourist t-shirt
DANGER MINES T-SHIRT - SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA


dear blog,

what do i say about cambodia? i'm going to sound like a snob.
humanitarian. yeah, try saying that without laughing.

nervous, nutcase,
flagrant


dear blog,

stop sitting there and start explaining to me how to get back into blogging. tell me how to tie up the fuzzy and suicidal pre-myanmar months, and also within a post or two, help me reposition this site to a current representation. how do i explain in print all of which clicked into place while i was gone? how do i reiterate silly stories about the hysterical parent or about two groping monks without writing for several days straight?

your favorite slave,
flagrant


pick one:
a) let the boiling rage explode.
b) shrug off individual as an idiot and think self righteous thoughts.

there used to be:
c) turn anger inward
[ but i refuse to hurt myself over some loon nowadays ]

what is the real answer?
what is option d?

i have not come close to raising my voice at invalid friend in some time and hate to admit that, even though the rage only incorporated a few sentences, it felt great. very good and very familiar, except now the heart palpitating end of the anxiety is the same feeling i used to experience before inducing vomiting every night.


Thursday, November 04, 2004

everyone is a sheep.


Monday, November 01, 2004

is he a saboteur or just going through a rough time? the king of carrot flowers or do i remain sensitive in areas other people will never know exist? is he knowingly utilizing condescension as self protection or might this online acquaintance merely be a jerk with ugliness extended so far it can only appear attractive to him? i hate having secret feuds and should immediately change clothes. bothered and embarrassed now, after seeing my own reflection, knowing that i was once audibly cutting down everything in advance when too scared or unable to participate.


Someone was attempting to shove a few sheets of paper under my door yesterday but I paid them no attention. There is the rare occasion a representative from the homeowners association will deliver typed out declarations of Things Which Will Get Residents Fined. I prefer to read the Normal Habits We Consider Trashy That Must Terminate Immediately. These Rules, New Regulations, or Notice of Water Interruptions either get tossed in the trash or are sliced in half to be used for scratch paper, so imagine my surprise to find 50 wrinkled coupons good for a free sandwich from Hamburger Habit stuck half in and out of the house.

Paranoia struck, of course. Is someone being nice or is this an eating disorder related prank? Might it be both? Sick thoughts, those certainly are, so i should knock it off. In case it was, the last laugh is on the neighbor: half of the certificates were donated to someone who will benefit from them and also visiting Hamburger Habit with Chuck was not triggering at all seeing the free coupons can be applied to their menu selection including salads or drinks.


a physician at the kaiser permanente clinic needs to be contacted to get this insomnia under control. even though i would rather endure anything else than human contact today, he can provide most prescription medicine to me without an eating disorder lecture, for what i believe is only a $5 copayment.

there have been numerous changes in daily life and habit to counter the sleepless nights but an unwanted medication seems necessary. the tablets will no doubt be set in a base of corn, an allergen which can exacerbate depression, and my body will refuse to tolerate it. if promised magic pills will only turn into poison within a few days is there a point in trying? how do i just pick up the phone and bring myself to say how insane it is without disconnecting in a fury of embarrassment? what if i have to endure a jackass statement about getting to the root of the problem before hearing what pharmacy to use? i don't want to hear that. i don't want to be offended. then again i don't want to have a constant and caustic avoidant personality for protection, either.


someday i may be able to speak another person's language. unfortunate, indeed. give and take and change around, but i could shelter today for myself. tomorrow, with those slipping grains of sand, shows me holding nothing. potential echoes around the cold room though estrogen television should at least spark an annoyance- spark an attitude. go to sleep or go home but snapping out of a funk means to wake up. well, here i am.