Platter

Here is another one.

This is so awesome, because I am being reminded of all these days that I would have totally forgotten about.

so it wasn't mono. but it felt like it for the first
bit.
i am too lazy to find my cellphone and tell you what
the joke of the day was, but i assure you it wasn't
funny.

i had...a really good day. even though it's
ridiculously hot here. hot and dry and still and it
hurts to breathe. i went to visit my old friend who
lives in the neighborhood. she's a crazy painter woman
who has a shaved nazi haircut and owns a whole pen of
goats. i didn't tell her i was coming so i went in
through the back to say hi to the goats. i was sitting
in the pen and they were trying to eat me but they
were so cute i couldn't leave. i guess she saw me
through the window and she came out with a pitcher of
iced tea and a bowl of chilled sugar cane on a SILVER
PLATTERFROM EAST INDIA. god, i thought i had died and
went to heaven. so we sat in there and talked about
how we are both pretty much failures.

i'm pretty sure i just had to tell you that because
somebody needs to know that i was handed something on
a silver platter.

anyway. i built a darkroom in my little cave this
weekend and have been printing like a madwoman. i feel
like a chemist and it feels good.
sew gewd.

how's the world over there? tell me something good
bestbestbest
hanna

Than Fran

The night before we left was as Jane recalls, "a symphony of snores", sleeptalking, and sleeping in cigarette butts in the loft.

So, hungover and tired as shit Jane and Arun and I went up to San Francisco on Saturday.

The drive was nice in Jane's sketchy Corolla, it seemed really short. At one point we found DROWNING POOL on my iPod and started playing it. It was weird because when you're driving on the 5 it's so long and straight so you see all of the cars around you at all times but as soon as Drowning Pool came on this GIANT MONSTERTRUCK came out of nowhere from behind us and was flashing its high beams at us even though we were the only ones on the road and like swooped down and gave us the evil look.

The ghost of Drowning Pool.

So we arrived in San Francisco and we stayed at Desiree's house. She lives with 4 other people and a guy named Ben sleeps in the same room as her.

We put our shit down and somebody decided we were gonna go to Berkeley to go to a rave at a Co-op.

Drove to Berkeley wonderful Prince pussy control drive. Grinding/not grinding with college freshmen. Arun and Jane were trapped on balcony with a blonde titty beast.

Once the cops broke it up we couldn't find Desiree anywhere. So Mike and I were outside, all I remember is Mike saying "I want to spit on you" and then we somehow found our way back into the co-op where we couldn't find Desiree but apparently she was watching some incredible drama involving a hula hoop. We ate at sparkys where Mike tried a banana and peanut butter smoothie and screamed.

Got back to Desiree's, went to sleep, woke up, ate burritos, sat in the park, watched dogs. Mike came over and suggested we go to a BBQ. All went downhill from here...this night was dubbed "Loco Night"

It was a tiny bbq of 10 people. We were there for a couple of hours and then we went to the Hate house, running down the empty streets. At the Hate house there was pissing, puke, lost shoes, etc. Some sort of piss puke friend sandwich. Missed most of it because I found 90s guy. Woke up at his house which was this weird geriatric house in a neighborhood of short houses. He lives with a black nun from the congo.

That's when I realized my wallet was gone and my pills. Somebody took my fucking medication from my pill box and put my pill box back.

So I went back to Desirees and started calling the credit card companies. But my brain was so unclear there were so many numbers I had no idea what was going on. Then I find out that this asshole has used my card at a movie theater for $40 and has tried to buy iPods and gift cards from the Apple store for hundreds of dollars. Filed a police report with hermaphroditic cops.

Sat in Alamo park with Mike, Kayla, and Alex where we met a really Irish man who wouldn't stop talking. Saw Alice in Wonderland in 3D at the Castro Theater, bald wonderful organ player rising from the ground. Sat next to a really awesome one man band, but apparently I was stealing a hobos POSITION.

Next day called the Apple store where they told me that they had already flagged the order made by that douche because it seemed suspicious and told me that this person has done it before.

So I went to the police station where I found my savior of the trip...Inspector Danker. He was this really awesome older guy who flashed me his SAG card. He works as a cop extra, "SF Cop #2," and as a real cop/inspector. He took me, Arun, and Jane back to his "office" and I had a taped interview and he told us stories about his kids and whatever. I was in heaven/48 Hours Hard Evidence.

The rest of the day we ended up driving in a thousand circles trying to find Desiree after work, then another 4 sketchy hours of waiting around in the mission for acid (not for me). Arun got pulled over. Drank on the roof.

Next day had most epic lunch with Desiree. Guy from Gravy Train was our waiter and took pity on me and gave us strooong bloody marys. Beautiful womanly conversations with Desiree.

Drunkenly walked into Out of the Closet and bought gross jelly shoes.

Said goodbyes.

Drove home.

Jesus

The God party was good.

The morning after all of the cars on the street had their windshield wipers up like they were dancing. The neighbor told Esme and I that somebody left a "scary, manic" note taped to his door that said something about "paper people." And somebody put my fake loaf of bread in my empty bird cage.

Nice mornings.

I started watching "Be Good Johnny Weir" and the first hour and a half long episode is actually so inspiring. I can't explain it, he is so inspirational to me.

Last night I went to a Magnetic Fields concert with Esme and Mom. I had no idea what to expect. I've never liked them that much. When I do listen to them I'm reminded of eating blueberry scones on a humid breakfast porch. This wasn't like that. They all looked really sad. Mom was sleeping in the middle of us. Esme was in heaven because Stephen Merritt is her Jesus.

Speaking of Jesus, Esme just came up to me with a Jesus candle and said, "Do you want this candle? It's too masculine for me." She put it in my hand and said, "Feel it?" And then put a Virgin Mary candle in my other hand and said "DO YOU FEEL THE DIFFERENCE?" and I said, "Yeah I guess I'll take the man candle."

I'm not working right now and really feeling the burn of my lack of friends. There is no point in getting another job at this point though, because April will be nuts. Coachella and then Toronto right after and then Montreal and New York. I'm not sure what to do with myself for the next six weeks. I have a stack of 20 yellowy green square trays from the 50s in my trunk I want to do something with. Esme and I just found a giant renaissance puppeteer frame on the side of the road and carried it home. Maybe I can start making puppets. Fuck.

Point Doom Prostitute Square Dance

I sometimes forget how much I love California.

Today I picked up some beautiful babes in my car and we drove to Point Doom- a mystical cove. Driving there was heaven: sitar music thousand foot cliffs and planes drawing valentine's day penises in the sky.

All the windows down bouncing heads with wild hair in my rear view mirror.

We somehow actually found Point Doom which was crawling with Giant Coreopsis. Climbing barefoot over the rock cove, lying on the black rocks. Laughing the whole time.

All I want to do these days is take day trips.

Driving back on the PCH, biker couples blasting hair metal from their motorcycle speakers.

The rest of this weekend was crazy. Standing on Hollywood Blvd dressing Natalie as a prostitute, filming a scene for Ruby's movie in front of Playmates. Lying on the front lawn of an abandoned mansion. Running around Highland Park at 10 PM buying really unnecessary ashtrays and bracelets and fake pants. Square dancing mermaid party. Satan masks.

My mom just came into my room and rubbed magnesium on my arm and now it's on FUCKING FIRE. What's going onnnnn

Think About It

Today has been just like Nina Simone eating beef jerky in the snow.

Loving Messy Life

I'm starting this thing up again. I don't know why I had some fit of hysteria in September 2009 about this blog. It's fine. And I really need somewhere to write.

OK HERE IT IS.

Sometimes, well most of the time, I really love my life.

I like being woken up by a beautiful gay mulatto boy (who I don't know) getting in bed with me and talking about how much he loves Chanel.

I even liked going to the DMV this morning and listening to people have conversations on their iPhones, and seeing people get mad even though they just got there, and wondering why there is a group of 20 Mexican men lined up on the wall behind the chairs because they don't want to use the chairs?

I like the mess in my room. There is cigarette ash and fern leaves and mud balls on the floor. My guitar is leaning. My plants are dying. My lights are orange. The bird cage is on the floor. My sheets are wrinkled. I'm greasy and warm. My heater is set to 75. It looks really scary outside. I'm burning sage and listening to sad songs.

UPDATE: I take it all back I just had a panic attack in the shower.

Canteen Explorer Pie Legs

Dull moments don't exist in my life right now. I work 12-16 hour days and the weekends are no break.

Let's see... on Friday after work I drove over to Jane's apartment after having a nervous breakdown about a plaid dress. I got there and started drinking out of a green canteen and ended up at an "Explorer" themed birthday party in Westchester. I was talking to some big black guy on a tiny balcony for hours about his job. Apparently he watches TV for the government and "fixes" it when "things go wrong." Although when I think about it now he is probably just some stoner who watches TV all day and thinks he works for the government. Then I got pie all over my legs and washed them off in the sink with some guy who had a mohawk. Woke up on Jane's couch. Left early, went home.

Got home to find 3 Scottish men, the naked guy who lives downstairs, and his friend Jeremy all huddled around the table in the backyard.

Poutine Thievery

So on Saturday I woke up and thought to myself, "Holy SHIT I feel/look like a blob. I have to do something." Four hours later I have cut off a foot of my hair and spent 200 dollars on clothes. Which is not normal for me...at all. By the way H&M is terrible right now, I might as well have gone to the Gap. Maybe in the Gap they won't have music playing that goes, "And then I saw your name on iChat..." WHA? I showed my dad my new haircut yesterday and he said "You look like an international supermodel, like your dad." Ha. Anyway, Saturday night I went to see Japanther at Sala Rossa, where I got 100 dollars stolen from my backpack. I also got in a FIGHT (?!) I was dancing in front of this girl and she kept hitting me. I said to Sarah, "That cunt won't stop hitting me." Later the bitch found me and asked me if I wanted to STEP! HaAHA. Later on I got onstage with the band Ninjasonik? I didn't even end up staying for Japanther, I ditched my friends, got a pita and passed out. 

In other news, it's snowing again. Fuck this fucking poutine stand of a city. 

I'm so excited to go back to LA right now.

Also, I'm sorry, but Frank Zappa's lyrics/song titles are amazing. "Jazz Discharge Party Hats" and "Evelyn, a modified dog, viewed the quivering fringe of a special doily draped across the piano, with some surprise." I dunno why those come to mind, but I couldn't have said it better myself.