Valhalla

I used to know a lot about Norse Mythology, and now my references are procured almost solely by The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. Having said that, if Valhalla is portrayed acurately, that's where I want to go. None of that clouds in the sky bullshit. I want a big feast and then a battle and then a feast and then a battle forever and ever. I would use a battle ax and slice through people in huge throngs. Yep. Mmmm... and I could just eat and eat, Lord knows.

Alicia's talking in third person. She must be crazy.

Alicia was happy enough to come home and see that there were three books waiting on the table for her, still wrapped in thick brown postage envelopes. One, to her suprise, was a DVD. She is excited to watch Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter. She also received An Invisible Sign of My Own by Aimee Bender, hardback, a 23 dollar book that she found for 75 cents, and After the Fall by Edward Field. A good day maybe. She's sad to not be going to Disneyland today, even though she was invited, and her boyfriend's going for free. She's happy enough to go to zazenkai training. She will sit for ten hours and think or not think. Preferably not think. Meditation's about not thinking she hopes. She will remember what Gary Snyder said about the dharma being an avocado.

She is sad to be rejected from RipRap. She is sad that the RipRap editor for next year is already decided. She had been hoping since highschool... she tries not to think of that. Maybe she will give up on the MFA and write whatever she wants and not give a flying fuck about anyone. Maybe that will make her feel better. She looks around for her cat, doesn't find him, but sees Sawyer, her mom's white fluffy cat, sitting on the couch, eyes closed. She hears the mail box open and wonders if maybe she has another book or another rejection letter. She's sad that Mike is dead and that her family might have to leave the state in poverty. Poverty sucks, she thinks, and she's sad that it's not more eloquent. She's a writer, dammit.

She checks her mail. Junk. She knows she should probably finish reading Zen Meditation in Plain English. That's a good idea. Buksbazen makes her happy. And if she doesn't read it before tomorrow, she'll feel guilty, and she will be thinking of guilt, and it could possibly ruin everything.

watch

And Nine Inch Nails is quitting? Retiring? What?! No, Trent, no! No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*sob*

Let me find you a video.

Shit! I'll have to post it from my other computer.

Knock knock. Who's there? I eat mop.

I woke up at 4:10 in the afternoon today. I didn't go to sleep particularly late. Maybe midnight. So I got about... sixteen hours of sleep? Not bad. I woke up because I heard my step dad and step brother coming home. I thought they might have been leaving and that it was only seven or eight. Then I heard them get the mail, and I knew. Damn. I slept a long ass time.

I got a book in the mail: new geography of poets. I got a rejection letter from riprap. Figures. I have a lot of reading and homework to do, and I just don't feel like doing it. Ah, but I will. I must. Right?

oh facebook.

Go ahead. Click here.

oh- OH- ACH. There it goes. Good bye, happy feeling. I thought for sure you would last a little longer this time.

Hoppy Potty

I am so so happy right now. I had a really good night. Thank you Aleah and Steffan. =)

Christa, I'm sorry I'm not there for your workshop! That strange number that called you a bunch of times this morning (well, afternoon) was me.

Today

February 16th = Grandpa Bill's death day

I can't believe it's been a year.

I miss you.

Dear Alicia,

While this is quirky and kind of dark, it doesn´t feel like the absurdist and surreal core is strong enough for us and the humor kind of falls flat. Thanks and good luck in future endeavors.


One of many.

On Valentine's Day, I found out that a friend of mine from highschool is dead, and my mom and grandma lost their jobs.

I'm going to go to Mike's grave with a card he will never read and some flowers he will never smell, and tell him I'm sorry that he was younger and still died first.

no no no

I am not as hardcore as I thought I was. I was researching bestiality for a story I was trying to write (a potentially amazing story, if I do say so myself), and a friend's exboyfriend was sending me information, a few of these being clips. And I just don't think I can watch anything like that ever again. I actually feel sick.

dreaming in narrative

I had a really involved dream last night. It was two layers deep. The first layer (or second, depending on how you look at it) was really strange, but the second (or first) was a writing workshop. I was thinking about how this dream that I had had/ was having could be written into a story. This is what writing does to your psyche I guess. I won't go into the actual dream right now. It's hard to put into words. I have three stories that I'm turning in tomorrow. Eek. I'm ready, I think. But my nerves are a little shot.

Cinderedipus

Upon realizing that Prince Charming
Is actually her father, and her children
Half siblings, Cinderella runs to the closet
And pulls out her glass slippers, stabbing
The heels deep into her eyes
Over and over as blood spills down over
Perfect skin, and pieces of eye fall
Onto her dress in small bloody chunks.

The Orange Tree Revisited

It feels so good to sit in the sun. I don't know when I did this last. Jack, the best cat in the whole world, is licking his genitals a few feet away. He came up to me earlier with his giant blue eyes, and I pet him like a cute thing. I included him in my nonfiction, but I'm adding more to it. Right now I have a kind of skeleton. It's an essay about car accidents. It's also kind of about two relationships and about depression and anxiety. It's at that point where it could be good. It's not yet, but it could be. I'm trying to capture what it is that's so terrifying about cars. In my mind, it's obvious. You put yourself in an enviornment where thousands of pounds of metal are hurdling at you from all directions, and you do it every day as part of routine, expecting it to be safe. Maybe I know too many people who have died, or maybe I've just been hit and almost hit too many times to take it for granted. I have to find a way to get all of this across in an essay.

I'm sitting by the orange tree in my backyard. I wrote a poem about it a while ago. In the poem I said that there are ten cats burried beneath it. It's not true. A bunch of them were left at the vet. I don't know what they do with dead cats there. Some of them were taken by the humane society. Leo just disappeared. I like to think that he was just taken by someone who thought he was cute, and that he's being taken care of right now- being fed, playing with kids. My dad and I burried Lilly, my grandmas dachsund, in her backyard. For a long time there was this scandal, and everyone was worried that we'd buried her vertically, as if we didn't have enough sense to lay her flat. She was older than I was, and I'd known her all my life.

This was meant to be a happy blog. And I'm pretty happy right now. I'm sitting in the sun, drinking diet coke, looking around for my cat. Come here, Jack! Ugh, he's disappeared. Sawyer is a big ball of white fluff on my mom's bed. Sparrows are flying down to steal seeds from the parakeets. I've seen Jack jump for those sparrows, but I've never seen him catch one.

Somewhere in the divorce process, my mom's second divorce, our cat ate one of our birds. My mom was really sad, but she pet the cat that was sprawled across her lap. She said she finally understood how God could love all people even when they hurt each other, because she loved the cat and bird, but didn't love the cat any less when it ate the bird.

More (East) Asian than Fadi

Happy New Year! Yesterday I celebrated a late Chinese New Year in China Town with Omar and my dad's side of the family. Happy year of the ox. And that's appropriate, because before celebrating I went to Zen temple for a Jukai ceremony and took vows and learned more about yoking and oxen and zen. Ha. By the way, I'm not longer allowed to talk shit about anyone, so please keep me in check. I have vowed not to, and that is by far the hardest vow to keep. No more shit talking. I am allowed to swear, as I learned from Yoshin. The first experience I had with Yoshin was when someone came late and started talking about how she was sorry she was late and wasn't going to try and make up excuses. Yoshin said, "And thank you to Michelle for not boring us with your fucking excuses."

Badass. He reminds me of my grandpa who died earlier this year. In a lot of ways I'm not sure if I like him, but I sure as shit respect him. I think I'm going to try to write a nonfiction story about my dad and buddhism and all of that greatness. Also, when I go to Buddhist school and graduate, I'll get a cool Buddhist name like Yoshin, whose real name is Bill (which is my late grandfather's name), and I'm planning to add it to my pen name (as it is a legal name addition) in order to increase my googleability. IE: Alicia Masumi Adams or Alicia Soko Adams. Cool, right? Of course I am only sharing my shallow reasons here, but as soon as we find a new temple, I am going to Buddhist school. Woot! Except it's really expensive.

Of course, I wasn't even vegitarian once I left. Here's a list of all the things I ate:

Beef! ah!
Chicken feet
Tiny octupus- with brain, eyes, everything
shrimp

and lots of vegie stuff too, but I'm bad. The chicken feet weren't even all that good. They were okay. But anyway, take that Fadi. Eel? Eel is delicious. Be a man, try some chicken feet.

Anyway, I also vowed not to drink. We'll see how long that lasts. Technically I don't have to follow any of these until I graduate from Buddhist school. Sweet. But Omar, maybe you should at least attempt to drink less, because I totally saw you vow. I saw you! And heard. I'm not shit talking by the way. This doesn't count, does it? Shit! It's hard.

I love zen. I love it. I've been trying to write nonfiction, and all I've got is stupid shit I've done and people who have screwed me over and all of that same old shit shit shit. I'm tired of holding on to these things. I think I'm going to try to reach a little. We'll see.