Deliciously Wired

straight hatin

2009-12-24T05:51:07Z

yo seriously I'm not gonna front

this is my live journal and all...

and let me just say that I pretty much hate going to New York City every time I go there.

Is it because I have to deal with the Chinatown bus? Is it cause I always spend too much money just getting around and eating shit? Is it because I don't have a bike there? Is it because my friends that live there don't ride bikes and we just take subways all the time? I don't even know.

I am just ... not ... feelin it. Maybe if I could get a ride up and back every time I'd be chillin, but this last time has just pushed me over the edge. I'm tired of leaving at 8pm and not getting home to 11:30 or some shit. It's just not fun. And what did I do? Walk around a bunch in the cold. Where are some peoples in NYC to show me the way on a bike? Seriously.

Additionally, why did I not realize the whole wide world of ALL MY FRIENDS ARE IN BANDS before like a month ago? It's my fault. Maybe people invited me a while ago to shows that I just didn't end up going to. I think that's it, mostly. I was doing other shit at the time. But jesus christ, late to the draw or what.

post-finals winter afternoons

2009-12-22T08:57:23Z

should be spent in this fashion.

, originally uploaded by jackson eaton.

mixtapes

2009-12-16T06:48:03Z

We're not in high school.

I can't tell how much I should read into tracks on mixtapes given to me by exciting breathing persons... Still, weeks later.

I think, I will read into that track exactly how I want to. And swoon every time. And be nervous.

Time is not linear. Identity is fluid.

Affection and fun are the only things that matter anymore, huh...

holiday work party

2009-12-16T03:31:49Z

He was going to dress drag but didn't have time before the party. I did. No breasts, waist, and a little tiny stuffing in the crotch, so I kept my legs apart some. A touch of mascara on the hairs above my lip. My name is Math. I'll meet your charming co-workers with my fake baby stach and glasses, and you'll call me "he."

It shouldn't be so surprising considering all the other costumes I've worn in the past, but this time the change in personality was similarly exciting and unexpected.

I enjoyed having the silhouette of a flat chest... but my wrapping technique was amateur, and after my belly was full of sweets, there was just too much pressure. On the bike ride home I stopped to loosen myself and suddenly had a much better time breathing.

on cycling

2009-12-15T16:11:01Z

A penetrating evaluation of its impact on human sensibilities and
social relations was made in 1898 by Maurice Leblanc in a novel
about cycling, Void des ailes! On its title page is a drawing of a bare
breasted woman with an unbuttoned chemise trailing down over her
belt, hair streaming .in the wind, strings flying free from her wrists,
pedaling a winged bicycle, all of which suggests the sexual, social,
and spatial liberation that the two married couples of the book expe
rience during a bicycle tour (Figure 3). The first day out Pascal ob
serves to his friend Guillaume that nothing evokes the idea of speed
more than the humming spokes of a bicycle. On the road the couples
feel a new rhythm of movement, a unique sense of penetrating the
surrounding world as their senses open to new parts of the terrain.
They experience a new sense of time, as if they were moving through
a dream rather than the French countryside. Social restrictions
loosen when they address each other by first names. Sartorial and
sexual liberation begins when Pascal's wife unbuttons her blouse
and bathes her neck and shoulders in a public fountain. The next
day both women appear without corsets. Later they strip off their
blouses and cycle bare-breasted, and eventually the bonds of
marriage break down as the couples exchange spouses and finish
their tour re-paired.

From chapter 5, Speed in the book The Culture of Time and Space

pizza pies and using time

2009-12-15T03:26:18Z

All my friends left town for overlapping periods of time. Some have returned. Some are still away. Some of them have been gone from Philadelphia for seasons now.

Last night I got anxious with myself and started to let my trembling heart speak directly to the room. It was embarrassing as it happened, but afterwards I felt slight relief in having identified some recurring issues.

I have a lot of free time lately. I wrote this thing recently:

pacing

The dry, tapping sensation of fingertips resting on the worn wooden cutting board caught up with her. The shallow emptiness of her kitchen, and the out-of-date calendar on the wall before her, eyes unwilling to focus. There was a racing sensation in her muscles, in her blood - braced for something about to occur, that had occurred.

I did it anyway, she thought. Then,

I should get out of here.

But she was in her own home.

That night, the night before, Suli had walked Kay all the way back to her home, to his old neighborhood. Suli, who she thought had dropped off the face of the planet to never be seen again, had suddenly shown himself. That wiry ass. She had since decided to hate him for the galling disposal of her and her affections. But how is it possible to hate a person you were once obsessed with ... once, with body willing and open, reaching out to? Kay had watched his every move from afar during the exile, calculating in her head to what extent he was happy in carrying on ignoring her existence. She had come to consider that perhaps in order for him to pursue happiness, she needed to be out of his picture, maybe forever. But then there they were dancing to Braga's records, high and sipping water, and she was allowing Suli to touch her shoulder affectionately, obfuscating her fury. Later, she would say to him, I want you to apologize, and then tell him that she wanted his fingers in her mouth.

( Read more ... )

pootie too good: holiday edition

2009-12-12T19:43:12Z

In the past year or so, the Tyler Art School of Temple University moved from a separate location to the main campus.

onigiri

2009-12-12T02:03:31Z

So my boy Baxter and I are gonna start a doo-wop/enka cover band. We just need like, a guitarist and a bassist. And then someone to do occasional keys, but I think that's an aside for right now. HAH!

やりたい曲：

Umm and a bunch of doo-wop songs that will be about pretzels.

snowed the other day, didn't it

2009-12-06T18:19:31Z

Last night I watched Shortbus with tiger. "Tiger" is simultaneously a uninventive nickname and one I have used to refer to countless people, and yet a name I am supremely fond of and attach meaning to. Still ... I think I want a better nickname for this instance...

Anyway, I watched Shortbus with pierce-lipped fat-bottom tiger last night. I didn't know what it was about at all until the candid sex/relationship scenes began layering upon themselves. It was good. I laid eyes upon JD Samson for the first time and was blown away. Such charm! That face and that voice!

I had been all dressed up to go disco dancing at Pi Lam, where the Robotique DJs were throwing a sublime party. I stopped at tiger's house with the intent to drop my toothbrush off, but ended up sitting down on the couch and feeling good and cozy with the scent of wine and whiskey on me. I said, well, if all my friends or anyone I know was going to Pi Lam, I would feel salty not going ... But that's not happening, so I'm afraid I've lost the drive to ride down there. So we watched Shortbus.

The other night lady Morgan at d20 house passed off to me a pair of navy blue nylons from the 40s, which she found in a thrift store. She said she couldn't get them past her thighs, and I thought hmm yes I have more slender thighs but we shall see ... And indeed, the nylons barely made it up to a proper length for me to clasp them with my garter. But then I realized that it was an issue of length, not width of thigh. Women were that much shorter back then? I am only but 5'3" or so... Still, this gift of nylons reminded me that I not only own two fine garter belts, but several pairs of thigh highs, all neglected for insubstantial reasons such as "I commute by bicycle every day" and "I don't own any skirts that would go." Silly, right?

So I strap myself in for a night of dancing. A wide belt pulled down both just under my bust and slightly over the breasts, like the obi on a kimono. Boots. Garters and thick socks, all grey and neutral tones, but not looking like much at all. Every day is dress for adventure day.

I want to have a Blade Runner themed holiday party with syrupy future creepy sexy music only. We'll all be smoooooth. We'll watch the 5 disc edition while enjoying the crisp winter evening. Dressed to impress, dressed in plastic slacks and tweed and trench coats. Man, I just need to find someone with the space and a television to host the shit.

Lately I've been reading bits and pieces of stuff about trans and queer, and then being somewhat perplexed when I am practicing hip rolling in my room to Aaliyah songs. The dancing is for me but ... right? I watched a documentary about the horrifying reduction/singular image of "female" in SO many hip-hop videos, and have since been questioning the objective of such dances. But when I'm full of drink and smoke (or the beat is that right), the hips is where I like to move most because movement like that is not a part of everyday. Just like kissing or holding someone. Those senses, when they are aroused, are so nice to indulge in. What this has to do with me reading about trans/queer stuff ... I guess you should make the connections because mine aren't too strong. Just that I've been thinking a lot about my past identifications as a woman that has certain offbeat attractions or likings to certain aesthetics that are not stereotypically feminine. Even writing that now seems so absurd.

Gender is a mysterious thing affected by myriad forces difficult to consciously parse. Personal identity is likewise an elusive thing. Identity is fluid, I think. Motoko Kusanagi's cyborg identity is fascinating because she is so conscious of the loose boundaries it has. With the countless worlds of information she has full-immersion access to, it's very feasible she can easily escape the confines of her physical sociocultural environment and experience existence in different ways as a result. So when she mires herself in certain information environments, her humanity comes into question. Meanwhile, it seems already as though her gender-related identity has been negotiated. Maybe "ghost" really means "identity" and not "soul," as so many people are want to translate it as.

I also read an essay recently (gotta find the name again) saying that trans/queer people were the true cyborgs amidst so much bullshit cyborg theory still bogged down in 20th century notions of hard-boundary man/machine.

Meanwhile, tiger tells me how when he dressed up as Divine for Hallowe'en, he was bummed that his hands and arms were so masculine looking. That's not the word he used, but the sentiment. I tried to put myself in his place and imagine a similar disappointment, but it was impossible because I am so fond of his hands and arms for the very reason they are sinewy and callused and tattooed. I thought about when I've dressed up as male characters in the past and had to resign myself to the fact that I was just too small-shouldered (or something) to be as menacing/dashing as I initially hoped... But anyway, "masculine arms" or "mannish" is not at all what I would ever describe tiger's as. Just "his arms," that person's arms. Those human arms full of muscle and charm and movement.

do nothing do nothing

2009-11-30T21:46:16Z

WHAT DO WE WANT???

2009-11-30T08:02:37Z

HEY PHILADELPHIA AND INTERNET THIS IS GONNA BE IN ALL CAPS CAUSE I AM SO PSYCHED RIGHT NOW BOYEEEEE! (今回はonly oneびっくりマークで、すいません）

THIS SEMESTER HAS BEEN THE LAMEST DUMBEST MOST DISAPPOINTING SEMESTER IN MY ACADEMIC EXPERIENCE.

PERHAPS THIS HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH COMING BACK FROM JAPAN, THINGS BEING DIFFERENT IN PHILADELPHIA, ME BEING DIFFERENT AS A RESULT OF THE AMAZING SOJOURN, BUT WHO KNOWS. I CANNOT WAIT TO STOP GOING TO BULLSHIT CLASSES THAT HAVE NO VALUE FOR A FEW WEEKS AND GET REALLY PSYCHED ON FAST CRAZY LATE NIGHT BIKE RIDES, SCREAMING AND DANCING AROUND BECAUSE I CAN, AND BEING AROUND REALLY REAL HUMANS.

REMEMBER THIS NONSENSE???

Uggh. Ok. I got the caps lock out of me, but just barely.

It's finals week. Or, do all the work for final projects this week or be fucked next week week. I really just want to do more productive shit. You know how it goes. Thinking about tedious shit that only proves you have sufficient analytical skills is not fun. I just rewatched a ton of babycakes videos, and have been hanging out a lot with a super fucking get-things-done-AND-have-fun(!!) person, and the fiery energy of those two things combined has been making me want to explode and shake off the shell of this now-old routine.

I'm going to get more tattoo work done when I visit Osaka over winter break.

I also really want to round up some people who will help me cover GO!GO!7188 songs, among some other Japanese pop/punk jams. Like SO BAD! I was thinking of having a ridiculous one-time show where all the lyrics are translated and someone is holding signs as we're playing so people can understand how awesome shit is. But shit yo, all my friends are already in tons of bands, no one really knows any of the songs I wanna do, and I dunno... I need to figure it out. I would appreciate hearing from interested parties though!!!! I can't play any instruments though, which is the rough part. :/ Just my earnest voice.

just wasting precious time

2009-11-23T05:04:10Z

I'm glad Sparks are gone.
I miss Naoko

and mass bike rides

and maybe even going to shows where I don't know any of the bands but all my friends do.

My knee is busted lately, but I rest it up just enough so I can ride it for a few days and be okay. I want to go on bike adventures with friends that don't live here anymore. I could try to rally folks but that would mean having a purpose and a place in mind, I think.

Facebook is loathsome. Why did it become a place where any and all of the people from ALL of the social spheres in your life feel welcome to befriend you? Voyeurism between like-minded peers was all right to me (myspace), but I do not like spending time setting up careful friend groups and privacy permissions in order for me to feel "okay" in uploading narcissistic pictures of myself..

This week is Thanksgiving. I feel like I'm forgetting someone, some lone drifter I meant to bring to my Lawncrest-area family function. Do I really just show up with no hassle? Is there a friends only potluck later?

I see a big lasso swirling down encompassing. I pull it taut with all the things I've been yearning for to happen.

"All I see is what's in front of me."

remember when I took a ton of pictures of myself

2009-11-22T01:59:42Z

Does one grow out of something like that?

At any rate, I gave myself a haircut I'm pretty fond of.

meccha wakuwaku

2009-11-18T22:33:26Z

Current mental state is !! :D :D :D :D !!!!! :~D <3_<3;;;!!!

Sort of like that.

Mixtapes and bruises.
It's a beautiful autumn.

YO GIMME SOMETHING TO WRITE!

2009-11-17T00:19:07Z

Somebody give me a prompt. A funny/interesting situational thing to write out, sort of fan-fic'ish, but not anime (cause I'm so out of the loop nowadays). Possibly some movie or book or something.

Get at me!?

yes.

2009-11-16T23:21:14Z

18:08 Alexis: http://www.twoyoutubevideosandamotherfuckingcrossfader.com/#8-28SOWEWts/OsayCi8DDIs
18:10 自分: AHHHH!!!!
this is BLOWING MY MIND
ALEXIS!
post this on nori's facebook!
18:11 Alexis: doing it
18:12 自分: thank you
5 分間
18:17 自分: http://www.twoyoutubevideosandamotherfuckingcrossfader.com/#dYjWCvVDaKc/zyEHQTVNnkc
18:18 kinda doesnt go. mostly wanted you to hear the other song
Alexis: this machine is crazy
18:19 自分: seriously
i like that you call it a machine

while organizing today

2009-11-15T09:33:36Z

焼くか。。。

2009-11-15T03:44:51Z

I'm going to make a conscious decision to erase the memories of my past.

For all this time I've been holding on to letters and pictures from high school and past that, of me and Roberto. I'll say his name just that one time, that motherfucker.

I've tried to do that thing where I hold on to them until they have some sort of ... nostalgic meaning somehow. But that still hasn't happened, and I only feel furious every time I look at them or read them. I think the discovery and preservation of my poetry from that era is evidence enough to my mental and emotional state of that time. I will do away with the pictures and letters. Burn them in a pit and scatter the ashes.

It's still so difficult to make that decision and I don't know why! What will happen after they're burned away, I wonder...

To tomorrow.

time traveling

2009-11-15T02:42:42Z

HEY CHECK OUT MY WEBSITE

This past few weeks some extremely emotionally charged shit happened. Now, saying that, I don't mean it in a positive or negative way, as to insinuate I'm in some state ... But this is just an intro - bear with me.

I ended up staying up an entire night, and subsequent nights very late, to write this CRAZY story. I remember in Catholic school and high school, I would have a pen in my pocket and a notebook at all times, cause I was writing poetry all the damn time. As time passes, I guess it's changed to me writing smut every now and again, half on a computer...

So anyway, I started writing this crazy thing. I put it off for a few days now so I can have a fairly clear mind to go back and edit it to make sense. In the middle of doing this, I also redid the layout at cyborg memoirs. (There is STILL some shitty float issue going on with the nabigation! >.< leaving the typo).

I also went and looked for all this archived poetry of mine to see if anything good could be found from the years of my insane teenage angst/love affair bullshit. 80% of it is awful, I think. It's all about that motherfucker whose name I won't even mention.

But I did find some. And I recorded audio for a few. I think I had three or four audio tracks on my site before? Now it's up to eight! So check that out, will ya? There's new poetry there, in that section. Short weird stuff that I'm still fond of. Purged of all the dumbass "oh i'm so in love!!!" shit that used to be there like seven years ago.

I found poetry from 1998!!!!

Life is crazy. I own the notebooks still that this poetry is in... but I had already typed it up into this mass compendium html file around 2002, I think. Just nuts.

the Wired starts to reach out for me

2009-11-13T01:23:01Z

I always forget that at any time, anyone can google either my real name or my handle and come back with a wealth of information. At the same time, I make the conscious decision to keep it all public. (This journal only has one private post on it in all the years.) Then sometimes I question if I need to keep any of my broadcast channels (read: websites/networking profiles) public anymore, since there is so much information out there. The net used to be small? The net used to be more quiet, when public broadcasting of yourself just wouldn't reach as many people.

Hey Ripley, check it out:

Then, imomus, whose LJ I read using Google Reader (not my own LJ friendslist, for whatever reason), posts this? And I find out about it from a friend who knows who Momus is, also reads his LJ, and sends me a reply via Twitter about the hilarity of this situation.

I will make the step towards direct connection/commenting! どうしようかな〜

what the hell am I doing

2009-11-05T02:40:38Z

あんた大嫌いな。。。
でも。。。あるいはうちのことを大嫌いになってる。どっちか分からない。
彼女と別れたって私に言うたら、どういう意味ねん？
共通の友達がレコードを混ぜているハーローウィンの夜、私が酔っぱらって前の悩みを全くかまわなかって、前の楽しいところのように一緒に遊んだ。本当に、うちは何してるねんってよく考えたのに。あなた大嫌いから。あなたは私に「ヒミツの前の彼女」にしたから。あなたの人生から私のことを全く削除したみたいから。そんなことを単純に忘れられないで！

だって。。。

今、あのやろうと遊ぶかと考えている。なんでのかな。。。あんたに酷いことについてまだわばを待っているな。待っています。酷く待ったいます。

だって。。。

あんた臆病者だ！！と何度も言っても、私も同じものじゃないやろう？　たんにあなたの嫌な行動を説明してあやまってくれたら、許すから。なんでか分からない。人間は心弱いものやな。。。

分かる点は何のもない。

写真で１０月

2009-11-04T07:47:43Z

Look at this wizard cat's face.

hallowe'en

2009-11-02T06:00:34Z

I'm thinking about getting dressed up one more time and going to the woods for some slightly better pictures ... Billy Blake.

too much stress (or) ストレスが溜まりすぎちゃった

2009-10-30T04:32:34Z

Right in this very moment,

I really just wanna move back to Osaka. With my bike. And spend my free days taking my bike on the train to nice places, and riding it all over. After, a coffee, a sandwich, at some cafe where everything is beautiful and the atmosphere is well-kept.

I ride the narrow streets of Philadelphia, keeping to the very left-edge of the bike lane, fearing a door or pedestrian. The Osaka streets, stretched on in wide empty swaths from all ends of the city. Wind blowing, thigh muscles burning, no helmet.

I started a conversation club at school, meeting three times a week. It's been all right so far. As expected, I put a lot of effort into getting people conversing at all - asking them questions and talking about myself. Someday, a fabled Japanese person or language superior will arrive.

I study JLPT preparatory texts seven days of the week. Not that time consuming, but another addition to the schedule.

A friend of mine accused me of having time once not long ago, the proof of which could be seen through my Internet status updates and images... It's been extremely poor of me not to say anything back since the accusation, but, I still find the accusation unnecessarily extreme.

I went to New York City last weekend, finally, to go see my homegirls... But they were tired and sick, and primarily busy, and we didn't really do the kind of hanging out I would've liked. We ran around to parties, and they invited their other friends along, and the time was never just for the three of us. But that's their lives in New York, and I am a visitor. And when they come to Philly, they'll have to deal with my running around and other social circles.

I saw my friends that live two blocks away twice last week. We ate dinner together. I saw my friend that lives one block away from me once this week. We watched a movie. Other than that, no contact.

I stay up late into the night. I read for my classes. I study my Japanese. I ride to and from school. My friend that lives near Cecil B Moore and 3rd streets ... Hell, I've only been to his house once. We don't hang out that often. A few times we ate lunch at Temple.

My friend that lives near 11th and Spring Garden, I see him a few times every few weeks. Cause it's on the way home. Cause he calls me, like a reminder of his proximity, implores I stop by, if only for a short bit. We'll watch a movie, or listen to music, and talk about our persisting problems. If I stop at his house, it's only a twenty minute ride back home in the dark, at the end of a long day.

And everyone else that I know in this city... They live in South Philly or North Philly. And yeah, to be honest, I don't think I have the time to go those ways if they're not on the way home, at this stage in my life, this fall of 2009, autumn of looking for direction in no direction.

Someone I used to see every day and hang out with all the time, since I got back from Japan, I've seen once. One Saturday, my housemate had told me about a good coffee shop near South Street, so I rode there to study and write my weekly essay in Japanese. And by chance, that friend sent to Twitter his location nearby. I rode over. We caught up. And when I will see him next, I'm not sure. But it was good that one time.

There are no promises. It's no use making promises. When will we meet next? I'm not sure. To label these differences of time and place as "avoiding me" or "making no effort" is fucking frustrating. It makes me feel poorly that a friend believes I am making no effort towards our friendship, but I can't help but think about how content my other friends are to meet up when we meet up, and wonder why that contact must be so explicit and frequent for this one friend. Was our relationship ever that intense?

It makes me feel poorly that I feel annoyed at the accusation. If you look at it from the accuser's side, certainly, I make no effort. I haven't phoned or visited. But why do I make no effort? Who knows. That wasn't inquired. According to the accuser, I am indeed not that busy, am only particular to spend time with those in West Philly, and cannot be bothered keeping in contact with anyone outside of my physical convenience.

I have thought about this fucking argument every single day since it has transgressed. It only makes me annoyed, further so by the fact that if I indeed made the effort to contact the accuser and make promise to spend time together, it would be so painfully contrived. Or I would have to break the promise because I am busy. YES busy.

It is shameful that I don't know what you're going through, but bringing it up in a manner that selfishly fails to consider what I myself have been dealing with or why I haven't been in contact, is no way to get me to come around. Too dramatic. That is behavior for a significant other.

Let me just take it back to this: We used to go out over the summer and dance our little heads off. Sometimes you would tell me to go out with you, and I would. And then I would find myself dancing alone, wondering where you were, only to discover you were socializing with other people. And I quickly figured out that if I was going to go out with you, it didn't necessarily mean that we were going to be hanging out. So... Based on history alone, I really can't believe that you expected us to hang out and have some sort of quality time, that night when I didn't meet you at the No Libs bars. I can't believe you went home almost in tears. It may be true, but I just don't understand why.

I just have to pose this question - why did our relationship have to become one of making effort? Who made it that way?

Before I started school, you said that we could hang out now that you weren't so busy all the time with school.

Except now I'm busy all the time with school.

全く。。。

2009-10-19T03:06:24Z

From the walk around nowhere today. Now it's 11. What have I done with my time ...