Honey in my Gears

Rehabilitating Miss Wiggles
My little sister Nichole went into rehab on Thursday. She called me at 9:30am to ask me if she could sell my vcr/dvd player to one of her friends. Earlier that week, she had asked Charles if he'd like to buy a bunch of computer supplies (keyboard, monitor, mouse...). These computer supplies were his to begin with. He'd brought them over to the house when mom was having problems with hers, and Charles had left the extras there in the guest/computer room. After she got off the phone with me, I called mom at work to bitch, worried that she thought everything I'd left behind (or hadn't picked up yet) were fair game and that she'd sell my stuff. It bothered me that she asked for the player, because it was in my room, and that means she was snooping through my room looking for things to sell.

Why? The only answer mom got up to this point was "Bills." Now, here's the thing about bills... she has a used car, so she's not paying on that. She works a full-time job that's a five minute drive from home. She isn't paying the phone bill that she stuck mom with. And she's on mom's insurance. What bills?

That night, while I was out with Kelly, mom called to tell me that Nichole was just dropped off at rehab. She had admitted to needing 10 pills of Vicodin a day.

She got out today, getting successfully through detox. She's decided to do an out-patient thing, which everyone thinks is a big mistake. Part of getting over your addiction is getting rid of the friends that feed the addiction, which I would assume is the hardest part. I don't think a long weekend vacation is enough to mentally detach one's self from something like that. She's not ready to be out. She should have stayed in. But that's just me... and mom, and Nichole's healthy friends...

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Oblique Strategies
Over 100 Worthwhile dilemmas by Brian Eno & Peter Schmidt.

I guess this list of dilemmas was originally published as a deck of cards in 1975. I had printed off this list from a site linked to areaology.com (though, since it got its own dot com, it's no longer linked from there, and I haven't been able to find CJ's site since then) several years ago, and by several, I mean at least twelve years ago. When I was 14. I frequently use some suggestions on the list. What I remembered of it, as I haven't pulled it out in about 5 years, but as I've gotten back into the habit of writing, I figured I'd pull it out for some forgotten inspiration.

I hadn't read the introduction since the day I printed it out 12 years ago. I didn't know who Brian Eno was, but as far as I know, that was my first encounter with him. My point in writing this all out is that I find it funny how often Brian Eno was a part of my growing up before I ever knew who he was, before I ever paid any attention to the name. Charles, being the electronic musician he is, of course knows who Brian Eno is, and frequently likes what he produces. And after introducing me to him, I've found his name in all kinds of places, namely in the credits of Neverwhere.

I just think it's funny.

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My Beautiful Sinking Ship
Charles and I rented Tuvalu, a beautiful Bulgarian film with silent star qualities. It seemed a tad strange at first, then started coming together in a fantastic way. Many parts of the movie were sped up to give you a feeling of watching an old flick. It used hues and tones that were consistent per scene, but changed throughout. The score was brilliant. I never saw Metropolis, but the movie was described as being like a combination of Delicatessen and Metropolis. I definitely saw the Delicatessen side of it.

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30 Days of Crap
30 Days of Night was crap. That is all.

Thanks to everyone who showed their sympathies for my grampa's passing. My mom sent that picture to everybody. Apparently, my step-grandma (his widow) is the only one who hated it. Everyone else loves it, though. Because he's smiling and I guess he tends to be pretty grumpy (he never has been grumpy to me, so I've never really seen that side of him).



In other news, the LOVELY vashsbitch (Kura Kura Kura Kura Kura Kura Kura - chan) bestowed upon me the latest X-Japan single I.V. which rocks for two reasons. 1. X-Japan rocks in general. and 2. X-Japan is back together!

Also, Charles gave me a copy of Nine Inch Nails's new album Year Zero, which I am listening to right now. It's awesome. It's the first glimpse this new computer has seen of NIN yet. I have to find my old cds and upload them yet.


Also, I need to learn to knit. I have many books on the subject (including the ever-popular Stitch-N-Bitch Nation (as well as SnB Happy Hookers- which I should probably crack open since I've forgotten how to crochet). I threw out all my old yarn that I got from dumpster diving, and am left with one ball left that may very well be too crappy to knit with too. I gave knitting a go the other day, but it was so hard that I actually started sweating and getting really pissed at it. Maybe the third time's a charm.

Lastly, I have a grilled cheese sammich waiting for me downstairs.

Ta-ta.

I have been rather devistated all day. Like, in tears. Why? Because my favorite singer revealed his full name.

It was because of one or two assholes in the forum who didn't read the rules/faq before joining. They would have otherwise known that asking about his name PISSES HIM OFF!

Who cares what his full name is? What's that going to get you? Nothing! He'll still be the same person.

People who think they're cool just because they know something quiet about something just look stupid when they come up and just try and flaunt it (like his example, "I know Rouge's real name"). Well, that's good for you, but how often do you call him by a name no one else calls him?

I call my friend Mark "Zazu" because it's what he and everyone else calls him. I have several friends that go by their middle name (like Katie, Rob, Jen) and just because I know their first names, doesn't mean I use them. Even though Dave Brockie has his own band named after him, I'll still call him Oderus.

What the fuck is so important about knowing someone's "real name" ? I mean, it IS his real name, it's just not his FULL name. But I guess that's not good enough for the fucking assholes out there.

I can't get over this... I'm beginning to calm down, but really, I'm quite upset by this, and no one really understands why, so I can't talk about it.

I just found out... just now... that a friend of mine blackdaisies has fallen victim to Meningitis. She's in the hospital, being stablized but isn't out of critical condition just yet. I'm getting my news from 8mm, the messenger pixie. Her blood preasure goes way up whenever someone talks to her, but she's getting better. Hopefully, within the next couple weeks, she'll be walking and a bit better.

I'm really worried. I'm sending her many voodoo prayers to her and her loved ones. I hope she pulls through. She's a spectacular artist.


visit her site

Sam made me tell mum about it.
I went to the funeral. I hung out on the outside of the room and the people that wanted to see me come did. But I didn't talk to anyone and I left at the first sign that it was over.

Spiderman 2 is playing at the theater down the road. I'm pissing myself in excitement!

I'm suppose to go to Rochester to hang out with Beanie and Sam. Beanie's in Greece. My car won't make that and I fucking HATE Greece more than anything. Hopefully she'll be able to get a ride out, otherwise, my car's going to suffer!

John Kerry is a Douche Bag but I'm Voting for Him Anyway (dot com)

and

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
the new HP book's official title announcement.

Dear Tom
Dear Rhuss
Dear Kelly
Dear anyone else I've upset somehow possibly- Rob Jeremy Adam Zach?
Dear Jon since you'll probably read this too,

I'm sorry if I ever seemed too selfish in the past or in the present. Sometimes I forget that I have nothing to offer. Ignore that, it only made sense to me. I just had this idealness in my head and I was afraid if you were taken away, I'd never be complete. I can't really think of what else to say.
But ignore this, it's just rambling.

Love always,
Fawn.

In the end, if you're not careful, all you can do is cry at the end of movies, but never at real life.