michele

in the last two weeks i’ve re-read all 10 of the anita books and re-watched roswell seasons 1 and 2. my brain hurts now. also, everything has kind of bled into one another, even though teenage aliens and a vampire executioner are really completely different storylines.

the other day i walked across a crosswalk in front of a car after having made eye contact with the driver to make sure he saw me, right? so he wouldn’t roll over me. but he and his little co-pilot punk both made noises of “whoa.” “hey.” “whatcha think you’re doing walking in front of my car, biotch.” and my automatic response was to shove my arms in thru the driver side window, pull out that bastard and beat the shit out of him. possibly then also to raise some zombies and have them eat him. round it all out by making cd’s play without a player, maybe. just to tie in some alien power with the violent aggressive behavior of anita. i feel the need for guns and multiple knives with various sheaths. to take martial arts. to have lots of sex with lots of different men, none of whom are human and all of whom have hair to their waist or longer.

i’m taking up issue though with book number 10. which always now reminds me of kati vol since it’s named cerulean sins. the number of inaccuracies in this book is staggering. both from what’s gone on in other books and what happens in the self-same fucking book. how old is damien? is he a thousand as all the other books have said? or 600 as this one says? how many times can jean-claude wear a blue shirt in a new shade that she’s never seen before? does musette have the ability to tell lies or not? this changes within a couple chapters. sooo irritating.

i’m tied down. i’m wrapped up. i’m a blank. i need my own personality back.

it’s become automatic to cover my nipples everytime he gets close to my breasts. self-defense at its best. the weight as he presses down on them is almost like pain, it treads the line into something which makes me hiss. exploring further south he leaves me with pelvic bruising. something which isn’t actually visible, but bound to be there because air oofs out of my stomach and i tense up wishing it would stop. lying between my knees he stretches out to ravage my inner thighs.

there’s something to be said for buses, in that they can transport you all over the city for a mere buck twenty-five, but why the hell do they have to be composed of so much metal? i swear i have bruises the size of my fist on my ass, thigh, calf, and forearm. how is it possible that one can survive public transportation in a city? i’m waiting for the day when one of the old people goes flying down the aisle because they haven’t had time to reach a seat when the lumbering monstrosity called bus starts up again. it’s like an iron maiden on wheels.

go watch this. it’s cool. plus, cowboy bebop theme song.

i’ve been meaning to give some info about my new workplace.

every monday and wednesday i walk thru this library

to reach the room i work in

though i work in the complete opposite corner from where this picture is showing. plus that desk is covered in stacks of books and a computer. truth in advertizing, bah. but it’s called the gold room which is true since the whole ceiling is gold and the wallpaper is green and gold. there’s a silver room too, but it’s for important meetings and has a conference table.

i’m working on the second editionthis book. making an index, updating contact info, and all sorts of fun things.

classical music plays all day long. frenchman talks in french and chinese on the phone. it’s all so pretty and well-lit with piles of chinese books so old they’re held together with string bindings. it makes me incredibly happy.

the frenchman at work just gave me a present! it’s this gorgeous piece of cloth with japanese noh actors dressed up in costumes. doods, hell yeah! this job is sweet.

did you ever think that the Buddha (not the buddha) would use the phrase, “they came out of the cunt-mouth not the mouth-mouth, just like the rest of us.”? sure, i’m paraphrasing. but seriously, dirty buddha Buddha. (this, mind, is in reference to hinduism and discrediting it as a religion by disparaging the priestly class who claimed they came out of the mouth of brahma, the warriors came from the hands, merchants from the loins, and servants from the feet)

Therefore, the late emperor in his last will established Prince Funato as crown prince. But before the imperial mourning was over, and while the grass on the imperial tomb was not yet dry, the prince had illicit intercourse with a young attendant, without respect for the late emperor…Despite repeated imperial instructions, he is still without feelings of remose. He is fond of using women’s language, and rather often disobediant.

…Eight atrocites [such as treason or depravity], intentionally kill people, privately mint coins, violently rob, or secretly steal…(663)

this is in reference to the time period between 697-791 C.E. and it’s an ancient japanese manuscript written in chinese (japanese at the time was considered woman’s writing [as was the speaking of it apparently]) which detailed the daily life of the court at Nara (imperial capital). also it’s in the way of being an imperial proclamation to the nation at large. it was put up for commoners to read and everything. or at least the passage the above is quoted from was.

they just come on out there with the illicit intercourse! i am shocked! plus we’ve got our deadly sins: greed, gluttony, whatever. they’ve got “privately mint(ing) coins”! and what the hell are the other 2 atrocities?

i think we all need to take a moment to shave down the edges of some gold coins and build up some bullion bars.

i just ate a sweetheart candy speaking heart thing. those things have more concise names, don’t they? anyway, it proclaimed, loudly and with feeling, “let’s read”.

when the hell did they become a ‘the more you know’ message? reading rainbow strikes again!

this has nothing to do with reading except along the sidelines. i’m getting another tattoo. why? i don’t know. my brother has an appointment which he can’t keep due to monetary issues, and i also have failing funds, but i’m sacrificing myself along the alter of exquisite yutaro-inflicted pain anyway. i shiver with anticipation.

i want to tell people what i’m getting tattooed, while at the same time i don’t like to talk about it. as i don’t like to talk about anything that’s personal. this might seem bizarre from someone who has cried on this fucking weblog before, but bear with me. but you’re going to see it eventually if you know me anyway, and also why am i getting something tattooed permie marker on my body if i’m too ’embarrassed’ (that’s not the right word. not at all. clingy secretism? those aren’t even real words.) to even talk about it?

so i’m getting an anklet, because i like ankles. but an anklet of words, since i only like to tattoo myself with words. maybe someday i will get over this. the words are two lines from a song by frank sinatra, ‘fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars’. not that i own any sinatra albums or have even been a huge fan. actually, this song was translated into japanese and used as the ending theme to evangelion which is where i first heard the melody and got the translated words stuck in my head. where they have been ever since.

it’s hard to explain this but i’m sure some of you will understand. sometimes, words just imprint themselves on every part of your anatomy and become a part of you. it’s a whisper that you can hear every time your brain settles down just a little; as a constant background rush of noise waiting to overwhelm you when you’re sleepy or sated. such it is for these words and me.

it’s nothing like getting an irritating song stuck in your head and being annoyed for hours or days, because it exists in an entirely different realm from something that buzzes like a trapped insect between the screen and window. it’s like if someone i didn’t know asked my name and i reached to call forth that information, it’s completely instinctual because my name defines me to me. these song lyrics, in a way, also defines me to me. somehow far below the surface veneer of civilization to something a lot more primal and a lot more..sensitive, i guess would be the right word.

it’s funny because taken in the whole <a href="“>this song is completely romantic, and though i am also completely romantic (as having a whole section of my genre divided and alphabatized library devoted to romance novels will attest to), i am mostly a huge pessimist with an outrageous streak of sarcasm.

to connect the sentence in the front i’m getting the chinese character for firefly, mostly because i love them and also because thematically it fits and partially also because of the joss whedon show. and if that isn’t pathetic along the lines of those people with the johnny depp and orlando bloom matching tattoos, i don’t know what is.

and all of this will be going down on the most romantic day of the year–valentine’s day. because, really what else do i have to do on such a day? besides eat ice cream with kim and watch absurd movies? yum and yum.