when they're out for blood i always give

i donated 6.8×1011 platelets today. it took the entire running length of Finding Nemo to finish. i like it that they have a personal dvd-tv there so i can watch dvds when i donate platelets. it makes it go at least kind of faster. until i realize “i’m already at the EAC part of this movie and i’m still hooked up to this machine that’s sucking out my blood! augh!!” but it feels good to donate. although i will not be allowed to after i’ve been in africa. blah. fuck the aids virus. except don’t. because as my mom will point out: aids is a terrible terrible thing.

[song]Aids!   Aids! Aids! Aids!  Aids! Aids! Aids [/song]

enough horseplay. post-donation, steve and i went out for thai food and then i took a nap with him at his house which was really fun. he’s great to sleep near. and i don’t even wake up bitchy. like whoa. the thai food was really good too. although we were saddened by the lack of emily/james or caitlin/matt. woosh.

last night stephanie and steve and i were really bored at stephanies house after we watched the adventures of sebastian cole so we sat around and talked some then went to sarah’s house which was a lot of fun. they drank some and i just had my lemonade and coke. we fully mapped out the web as well. although the more i think about it the more that i think i can add to it a lot. we also made these pompom pets (sarah and i did, at least) and my robin was so retarded. it looked like a robin-post-car-wreck. eegh. so sarah took pictures of the bird and me and then one of steve. hopefully this means i will have photos of them soon. yay.

the trial

the verdict is obvious
in doubting eyes
and screaming lips,
she says
everything
she says it all

i want to plea
but i remain pursed
and awkward
waiting for a cue

finding: me
the girlis my only crime

and yet,
realizing i am guilt free
i still seek
redemption

how beautiful to be: stable

i keep taking little bites, chewing bit after bit and swallowing in a desperate attempt to find sobriety so i weigh my options. funny how i’m stuck awkwardly in the middle of this fight (literally in the near middle, not figuratively) and funny how you each guard an exit. as i weigh my options i side with you: because i want to offer my advice but know its neither warranted nor summoned. you offer gratitude that falls upon my averted body and our shoulders collide, the only intersetion in this room i’m abandonning.

if everything you say is true then turn around and walk away and find a home that doesn’t make you feel this way. our words shape themselves differently; all you have is all you’ve sought.

this, this is why language sometimes fails me.

its not like i've got time on my side

last night was so crazy. i realized so much about people, relationships, and myself. i like how you never expect that to happen. its just like all of a sudden: boom! here you are at yr most hungry and yr most full and yr just trying to figure out everything.

james and i were in the hot tub after everyone got out and talking about our opinions of relationships and “those special someones.” we basically share the opinion that we’re young and that means that we have all of this time to figure out what we want in another person and figure out how to spot those qualities in people we’re just getting to know. which is exactly correct. i want to know as much as i can about me so that when i do decided to commit permanently to another individual i know that he or she is exactly complementing to me. and so that i’m not so codependent. because, let’s face it, i’m extremely codependent. unfortunately, this conversation-situation was cut short and probably misunderstood. i don’t know. sometimes my observations of other relationships make me realize about other people and relationships in general. its like when i try to talk about madeline and i and what went wrong all i do is realize how incredibly fucking crazy i am and how worthless most of what we fought about was. a lot of it was just me being jealous or me being scared. and so much of it is me being insecure. all the time. i realized that a lot last night too. because after the conversation was interrupted i was sitting in the hot tub until i worked up the nerve to face the cold and get out. so i got out and changed and went into the livingroom. but mostly i just wanted to talk to someone about how i was feeling. because it really sucked that the conversation got cut short. i was growing so much. dammit. and listening to the warbled echoes of someone elses conversation made me wish i could talk to madeline. but 3:30 am isn’t exactly an appropriate time to call. so then what happens? the phone rings. so i look at it and it says “Janelle” and i’m like “what the fuuuuuuck? how crazy is this night?” so i answer it and it’s not janelle but madeline and she was at ryan’s and wanted to meet me. but i couldn’t meet her so we just talked on the phone and then i drove home and we talked about us and everything and why its bad right now and my increased emotional openness due to the events of earlier that night made me really really open about everything and i just told her everything. i hope she understands a little more now. but mostly i think the only thing to understand is that i’m insecure and i can’t lose her so much that the only thing she is to me is gone. so that’s why i guess we do this limbo. and we say such mean things to each other. and i never give a valid reason.

and then there’s steve. who i like a whole lot and with whom i really am happy. i don’t know. i think i need to grow up and find out what else love can be. and that’s why madeline and i arent’ together. (disclaimer added after paragraph was written: i don’t think i aptly describe my feelings in this paragraph as to why madeline and i aren’t together but i’m leaving it.. because sometimes the best i can do is all i ahve). because i’m too young to be in something that would keep me from exploring myself the next few years. and i’m just so afraid i’ll hurt her.

gah. i guess this is growing up? ps. hooray for the thrills.

we gots the lack of motivation

i realized sometime yesterday that perhaps my sobriety kick is probably part of a minor manic episode. because i know last weekend i was really sad about michelle’s death (one year anniversary) so most of the time i was just in this complete state of social anxiety and everytime i was around people i felt really weepy and inadequate. then sometime around tuesday i was driving and everything was all golden because the sun was setting (by now you should know this puts me in the best mood) and everything felt so great like just so amazingly great that i just wanted to go on this adventure and drive wherever i could drive too. kinda like that time i wrecked my car while trying to drive to california (its a longer story than that, i promise). so anyway. i’ve just been in this really great mood. further: everything seems really unimportant. like everything seems to be just how it needs to be and i’m a lot less likely right now to freak out about anything. and usually my “everything is gonna be alright” attitude comes with these states of mind. i also really feel like i don’t need any sort of mood enhancers which is nice. and i’m never sure how long it will last nor do i find it necessary to make any promises but you know, while it’s here i’m going to enjoy it.

i decided not to use my livejournal. because i don’t like livejournal nearly as much as i like opendiary. so i am now crossposting poetry/prose on opendiary and blogs on xanga and myspace. i’m not sure if i’ll actually go to all of the work to make my opendiary crosspost comment on the blog. probably not. because i hate to display comments with my poems on my poetry page.

also, my dog has a myspace now. because sammie rocks.

my lady

i discovered her at this party when his words were so cajolling, promising a life of pretty pictures and invincibility, so i dove toward my destiny while he hammered out a line i waited so quietly and i held myself down on the chair until at last he delivered to me what i’d always been seeking: my hopes rose like evaporating rain and everything felt so refreshingly beautiful until it didn’t. but god forbid i would quit when something gets dangerous, no, no, no, these cold fingertips are going to be no ones fault but my own and this rushing feeling in my head is just me careening faster, wasting more time as i arrive dangerously at death. she said i love you/i love you/i love you, like it was some sort of song and she fulfilled all of her promises as she nailed the coffin closed pretending the chemicals wouldn’t slow my decay.

skin serves the purpose of a shell

our bodies rise and fall
in this vicious
convexing and concaving
waxing and waning
cycle where our skin
seems to burn
seems to melt
becomes: one.

my thumb is like putty
washing into your skin
and oh the scars.
the light washes
sepia
over us

like a photograph,
capturing a forgotten memory
of lovers
from when war was fair.

i am the wondering
i am the wanderer
i am the forgotten
i am the framed,
then the frameless

yet,
i am not blameless

we were something beautiful
something in between
our lapses
like blackouts
help us tear ourselves apart
when we blend
together.

the best laid plans of mice and men

i went to see jimmy eat world yesterday. it turned out to be an awesome concert. the bands before were alright. the new amsterdams were great, as was expected, and the donnas were damn hot. the two bands between them: elefant and g-love and the special sauce were good too. elefant’s frontman was on drugs like whoa. although i can’t quite figure out what. it had to be a stimulant of some sort. they seemed very david bowie inspired. almost in a way that is less than good. the music was alright though and the stage presence was amazing. g-love was just a lot of fun. even though joe didn’t really like him he made the stoner in me all kinds of excited. if the concert would’ve been outdoors in the spring/early summer i think it would’ve rocked my face off. for JEW i decided to stay in the crowd and try to push forward when the music started. so i worked pit mechanics and used their momentum to get me about 4 feet or less from the barriers. i was so close i could see jimmy’s legs when the crowd split a little. it was amazing. probably the best concert experience i’ve ever had. less perhaps moneen this summer. but that good show was their fault. not mine/the rest of the audiences. i think i need to start moshing more. it helps my mood. and now that i’m not quite as afraid of getting kicked around. mosh pits are feminism.

i’m not really doing anything else with my life. i got home a 2am the other day to a nice AIDS lecture from mom. about how her parents only had to worry about pregnancy but now there are things like AIDS and she just worries so much and… they’re interesting lectures. this one also covered the importance of watching for deer while driving, how easy it is to get shot at a concert (more later), and AIDS.

Mom and Jess on how easy it is to get shot at a concert
Mom: Be careful. I don’t want you to get shot.
Jess: What are you talking about?
Mom: well the other day at that concert…
Jess: mom, that was pantera.
Mom: so? it just shows it can happen.
Jess: Mom. Pantera.
Mom: ::silence::
Jess: His name was dime bag for chrissakes.
Mom: Well what is this guys name?
Jess: Jimmy.
Mom: I’m just saying be careful.
Jess: ::eyerolling::

the atlantic was born today

living at home is going pretty well. so far i’ve read some chomsky and i’ve slept a lot and i started reading lost in translation by nichole mones which is the book the movie is “based on.” which is really untrue because the book and movie are not even close to related. and it really makes me mad. sophia coppola does this often. at least the virgin suicides she only kind of destroyed one theme. this movie all she did was keep the name of the book and the name of the main girl. the movie was about a girl who went to japan with her photographer boyfriend and fell in love with a washed-up american actor and the book is about an american girl who lives in china to escape the legacy of her racist father and works as a translator and is hired by this american archaeologist searching for homo erectus, aka peking man, aka the missing link and falls in love with a chinese archaeologist along for surveillance. oh whoa. not even close. most of hollywood is pretty bad about butchering books when converting them to movies but my god could they be any different? why doesn’t she just write her own screen play. all she’d have to do is pick a different title maybe “this movie made jess want to kill herself but she still thinks it’s great” and a different name for scarlett johannsen’s character. i swear. she cut out the best themes and symbols. egh.

i saw oceans twelve with kyle today. i enjoyed it. especially for a sequel it was spectacular.

smudge, upon smudge

the pen lifts
and draws a diagram
of who i thought we’d be
and who we are:

alas,
one month later
two towers stand
polarizing themselves
in the same building

one buzzing insect
moving awkwardly
with a darting motion
attempting
years later to determine
which is good
which is bad

you must be like giants
reaffirming
an ancient philosophy
that there is only charcoal area
and if gray should be
then grey should be
also.