Prophecy

I'm like a theater mask stock image. Half laughing and half crying. People live down to your expectations.

I forget who it was that explained to me the idea of a Pyrrhic victory?



I close my eyes once I've jumped, then go lower and lower if I don't just start floating.

And before I break a fortune cookie open I declare to the room what area of my life it is meant for. What factor it pertains to.

Before cracking my last one open I decided it was all about my Love Life.



Ha.

Work is going awesome. I'm keeping it at a level and HELLA busy, which is a really good look in this economy.

Bunny is feeling ill though, maybe I need to spend tomorrow in bed?

Ya. Maybe.

Night.

Function is the Key

Tonight I saw The Muppet Movie the way it was meant to be seen: in an old ass theater on a big screen. It was awesome. This time my most favorite part was when Animal took those pills and grew massive, because I recognize how technically difficult that scene was to pull off.

Back in the day you had to make something physical, to effectively simulate reality. Now we get to fake it and it looks more real, but it's WAY less impressive.

People are always asking stupid questions like who you'd have tea with if you could bring someone back from the past. Tonight at least, my grandparents are my first choice, Jim Henson is second.

It was awesome.

After we went to this dive bar that I sort of hate and sort of love. Dirty Harry was on TV. I learned that my opposite of catnip is really any sort of punking out that a boy can do. I like them loud and strong and certain than a motherfucker.

I remembered Fugazi. When this fucking song came on the jukebox.



I'll wait and wait and wait. But when I'm done I guess I'm just.

Done.

My site launched today, officially, and it went smooth as silk. Blessed bunny. Happy
bunny.

Sleep tight.

Married to the Mob

Imagine that all of our days could be spent coming up with awesome mirror configurations and outfits to pose in? Goodness. This is me pretending to be a gangster's moll, like all I do with my time is count money, make awesome food and shop for high heeled sandals.

I woke up today and it's so fuckin rainy. So sloppy out there that I had to cancel all of my plans that involved anything more than walking down the block to BevMo for Alize. I'm not biting off more than I can chew.

Playing my position is my favorite.



Alyssa is also my favorite.

Happy Sunday. I have to work today but right now I'm pretending I don't.

How Did We Do

In a word: sucky! It started when we pulled up. Or rather. DROVE IN. They wouldn't come out and serve us pancakes no matter how much we honked the horn.




But then? We didn't even see one girl on roller skates. Not one. Motherfuckers.

And my apple pie was limp and all sauced out for some reason. Lyssie enjoyed her banana split.

And that's the only reason we are also posting this picture:



For the record, she hearted the banana split, not the "drive in".

I bought this massive mirror today. It's really hot. We had a photo shoot in it. More on that later.

Gnight.

Laying Down With Dogs

The terrible thing about working until hella late on a Friday is that it sucks. Primarily. A person finds themselves at their desk and reviewing incoming texts. Answering each one "no, sorry." and "no, wrkn :(" with the sad face emoticon and everything. A person finds themselves saying they can't do things they would normally love to do, like go to the awesome reggae show at the Fox theater.

But whatever.

The best thing about working until hella late on a Friday is going to Zeke's afterwards, on a fluke. Which is totally trashy, but also where you will find some of the coolest people you work with.

I showed up at 10 and it was all dudes and they were on their 11th pitcher of beer and I was like. Whoah. But also? Really happy, this unguarded and creative masculine space. So professional and portfolio-worthy.

And yet. True.

In advertising, we look for those things. We're eating up your moments of truth like they are popcorn. We kind of own them.

And so it wasn't so bad after all cause bunny got to get shit done and then have drinks with all of these boys.

And oh. These boys. The talent at my job goes on forever.

*********

I organize these meetings sometimes that I call COME TO JESUS meetings. The only point of them is that everyone walks away with a common goal. A shared vision. We all need to be converts, we all need to believe in the shit we are doing and selling.

That is the only way to get a collaborative thing done.

Without shared definitions, I wonder where we would be?

*********

Good morning. Those parts hold true and this part was limited edition.

Some things are fit for only whispering to drunks, insomniacs and people in other time zones. Those are treasures. Flashes.

I will admit to every single thing I ever feel and do, if the timing is just right.

I woke up at 6 today, nervous about this site we started launching yesterday. Still tired, but not really sad anymore. There's so much else to think about.

I'm gonna see a movie today and later on, my best friend.

Happy Saturday. I get my bunny next weekend.

Instructions

Sometimes lately I feel icky and average. Like a statistic. That is bunny's least favorite feeling. I call it "Roadkill".

Being a casualty of someone else's getting to know themselves. Is there like, a less interesting role to be relegated to? Historically speaking? I fucking HATE the commonness of it. I hate that I could pick up any trashy magazine in any salon anywhere and read my latest adventure in its pages.

It makes me feel gaggy and a little bit like a champagne glass with fingerprints on it.

Pitiful. The signal of the end of the Party.

Historically speaking. Even if a person is on their way to being something incredibly fucking awesome and noteworthy. Well. Their last time biting off more than they could chew isn't really what anyone's gonna want to talk about afterward, is it?

No. The official story, the one in history books, would start fresh.

And I want to be the Fresh Slate. Only. Always.

Anything else is a pretty weak showing. Unremarkable. An Embarrassment.

Yeah. Sorry. That's kind of how it's all panned out.



Common. Yawn.

*********

Bunny's most favorite feeling? Dinner - and I don't have to pay for it - at the Cliffhouse. At least in the last week or so. They give me raw honeycomb with my plate of cheeses and even better? No crazyface when I ask them to burn my steak.

And the view. The view is every possibility you could ever think of. It fills me with sighs.

I want every wish I ever have to come true, always for the better.

I want to stretch this state of grace out forever and ever.

I want endless beginnings. Fuck your endings.

They are predictable, and they make me yawn.

Goodnight.

When You Open It To Speak

Are you smart?

I suppose it is a weekend for being sentimental. People are busting out all over with last minute things to say. I'm trying just to play my position, I find that hard enough lately.

I'm not borrowing trouble, you know?




But I AM overflowing with love, as I've mentioned before. So I spent last week being super busy, and threw this Valentine card creation party at my job that I didn't even have time to attend. We made some good cards though, I'll let you guess which of these was my personal favorite.



Classy.

Picking a bunny is a very important decision. I treated it with proper reverence and on Saturday we drove across the pretty bridge to Mill Valley to visit the rabbit shelter.





I spent like 45 minutes laying on the floor in a mini dress sweet talking my spirit animals. It was precious and I think, smitten-making. The best time in a long time. In all that mist riding across the bridge felt major, too.






Today I'm just spent. In the mood to pick and choose.

Life: I see you your Rabbit and I raise you...

A Lion.

Ha.

Happy Sunday!

Bunny gets to sleep in tomorrow morning and that's my favorite.

Night.

Addendum

For instance: one of the things I've forgotten to mention is that I have a Supreme Purpose now. A Goal. I have one single Thing I need to focus my power on for the next sixth months and it's not balling, or fashion, or love, or popularity, or the weather, or how the fuck someone else is acting, or anything else that I can't control.

Simply: I can't be flashing on people whenever I feel like it.

And it's not like that's news, or anything. I actually realized this weekend that I've been hearing the same advice for about 20 years or so.

It's just that I've never paid attention.

Because I've never seen it in black and white. I've never heard it referred to as my Achilles's Heel and it's never stood in between me and success before. Not as far as I was concerned.

But I know my limits, right?

I guess what I'm getting at is there's enough improvement needed to go around, sugar. I applaud us all for even putting up with us.





I am taking this rabbit thing very slowly. Did you know they live for 10 years? Dude. I've no idea what my life is going to be like 10 years from now.

But I suppose. I could decide. That it will definitely have a bunny in it.

So I'm gonna sleep on it for about a month and then we'll know. Gnight.

Devolution

Bunny went from Prized Companion to Some Drunk's Favorite Regret. That is not so much bad as it is played out, and it is forcing on me a strict rule about phone calls that I answer and taking things seriously that happen between 9 PM and 9 AM.

I haven't been on this kind of lockdown since I was like 21, so I feel like it's poor form. A regression.

But at least: that should do it. I've solved bigger problems than this one in my sleep.

*********

Good morning. The moon was at its fullest for the month about 30 minutes ago, I hope you enjoyed it.

I'm off to work. XO.

Bunny Bunny Bunny

I am overflowing with love lately, so have decided to get a pet. I was sold on a hamster cause they are easy and cute and come with all kinds of cool accessories.

But now I'm thinking it's gotta be a bunny.



Yesterday went perfectly. I texted Alyssa at just the right time with my pet shopping plans and she totally needed someone to help her test out lights for a photo shoot and it was a done deal: I put everything I love to wear into a duffle bag and headed over the bridge.

The rest is history.



It was just what we needed, and sunny outside too! I'm glad for that cause it's grey today and I'm workin, eyeballing the occasional gangster that hits up Tres Agaves.

To my chagrin there are not many.

I'm torn between wanting things that are really hard and really soft, lately.



These guys are definitely soft.

Happy Sunday.

Performance and Cocktails

I'm up this morning, and wondering if I'm ever supposed to write about work here. As a rule I avoid it because I think that's proper, and I'm not sure I broke any rules last night. I was feeling brand new and wanted to share, you know?

But better safe than sorry. My job rules.



And to make up for it here is a blast from my past. 5 years ago I wrote this.

*********

I write my shopping lists in code. I don't know when this started happening. If I could figure that out it would solve a lot of the timeline for me. Things always happen in pairs and threes.

I write my shopping lists in code because I don't want Certain people to know that my mind works like

Nyquil. Sequins. Spray Paint. Caramel Apples. Waffles. Taco Bell. Stargazer Lilies.

so I make up names to represent things and they are totally easy for me to remember because I have a one degree of separation mnemonic device rule for my shopping list. That rule would seem to compromise my security measure but that one degree is fucking crucial, dawg.

It is the difference between Waffles and Tyrannosaurus Rex.

The why of it is that the honeymoon ended. Neurosis is sexy at the very beginning or if you're Liz Taylor holding a martini and wearing a seethru slip that matches your fucking eyes. But laypeople would be wise to remember that if you play switcheroo with even one of those goddamn qualities you stand a high chance of being told to fuck off for being such a dysfunctional spazz about everything.

Of course. If you are the type to do it anyway, and you are hot, you can always sniff your nose and sort of spin right round to face another partner on the dancefloor when you find yourself rejected. Someone is always waiting in the wings to take you for a spin because your act is That kind of act. The kind that lures from very very afar.

So either way. It's gravy.

Seek comfort in a stranger's arms. That sounds dramatic, yes? But no. You'll do yourself a favor remembering what it's like to be seen for the very first time. That's what true love feels like forever and ever.

Being replaced is like the opposite of Christmas morning. It's like a knife.

I got my voice back but my head is still spinny.

*********

And that's better than right here right now, I was very lightly tethered to reality back then. And now I'm off to work.

I'm getting it again. Thank God.

Good morning.

And That Ain't What You Want to Hear But That's What I'll Do

Oh honey. I have so much I could tell you about this weekend. It was fucking action packed. But I am frail right now, bunny is hung over from cutty bang cocktails and a shot of vodka at the end of the night.

This picture, however, pretty much sums up everything from Friday at 9:15 PM until now. Really well:




See how that kitten-bunny is like. Messy and adorable and super, all at once? Like that.

And last night was definitely the height of it. The party I was working at was more fun than I've had in a long time. I had a partner in crime on the door, this sweet little blond girl, who was cute as a button and very sparkling.

But context changes everything. Turns out I am not the center of the universe, just one of a bunch of pretty things out there.




And when me and the other door girl were over it? Like. 3:30 AM and time to stop charging people? We were so ready to go, having personally greeted every single person in the room. There's something about that. You reach your limit and bounce, before things get more involved.

We went to Jack in the Box and caused a sensation.





I also worked on Friday night but all of the fantastic adventures I had there were replaced by the party after that so I couldn't coherently tell you anything else about this weekend. I think I'm still a little tipsy? At least I have pictures.

I'm supposed to buy a hamster today. I'm also supposed to do a full eight hours of work for my day job so that I don't show up tomorrow with a million things broken.

I'm rooting for the Cardinals, in this Super Bowl.

I can't get the song Seven Nation Army out of my head this morning, cause it was playing when I parked my car last night.

I think I'm gonna go back to sleep. Good morning.