tavie.com

Stupid cat went missing this morning. Mom and I spent all day alternately looking for her, sleeping, and hiding out from my dad's friends (who are still here, listening to him gibber on.) I honestly thought she was dead somewhere because she didn't answer when we called, or when we opened up food or anything. My mom even went up and down both stairwells to all 19 floors in case someone let her in there by accident.

A half hour ago my mom opened the door to my room and Lily came sleepily out as if nothing were unusual. I think she was sleeping under my bed.

Retard.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:35 PM | shower me with attention

I'm so lonely tonight. My dad went to bed very early. My mom is at my aunt's house. My sister is in San Francisco. Even the cat is asleep on top of the turtle's tank. I have been watching bad tv and surfing the internet for at least five hours straight. I'm terribly bored. I even tried taking the old Betamax apart to get it working because I really want to watch A Little Night Music. I got the top off and wrestled out the tape stuck inside (1776 and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, we have both on VHS, no loss) but I couldn't get the damn thing to work. So it's gone for good.

The only movie I feel like watching right now is on Betamax and the machine has been broken for at least two years.

Oh! Oh! Wait! My mom taped Scrubs on Thursday! I can watch that!

Such a lonely, pathetic loser. It's almost delicious, my loserdom. I'm sort of relishing it.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:08 AM | shower me with attention

Boss called me back with more work for me. More work equals more money for Christmastime. Found out when my final is-- December 11th. So, this is the plan. Take final. See El Vez. Pack. Board plane. Go home.

Yeah, baby. She's coming home!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:03 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, October 18, 2002

My father is having some sort of get-together here tomorrow. He's willingly inviting people he likes over to spend time in this dump. I can't wrap my mind around this one. He's even cleaned it up-- admirably-- but it's still an overstuffed dump. I plan to see Bowling for Columbine during the grand event.

I miss Mint Manor. I wonder if Gina's parents are having fun. I wonder if I'll get to meet them. I wonder if they're even still here. I can't remember how long they were staying.

I am developing Martian Lip again. I think I caught it from my mother this time. My mother gave me herpes. I think I'll print it on a tee-shirt.
Luckily I'm in the States, where Abreva is cheap and abundant. (The last time I suffered from Martian Lip was in Swedish Paradise. I just reread all of my old blog posts from my trip. That was a magical time, before death, marriage, divorce and poverty intruded.)

There were over 250 episodes of M*A*S*H made. I have not seen the majority of them. So why do they keep playing the same episodes over and over? And I don't even care.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:08 PM | shower me with attention

Oh, baby, no one wastes time like I do. This is definitely the biggest waste of time I've ever come across. I am exhausted. I am so tired I can't believe my eyes are open. But rather than sleep, I am opting to lay on my back on the couch with a cat on my chest and a laptop on my pelvis and sing along to the various Stephen Sondheim songs I am continually downloading from Limewire. I don't understand what it was/ but mama, the things that he does/ they twinkle and glitter and buzz-- right now listening to a fairly horrible jazz version of "Color and Light" that I'm too lazy to delete from my playlist--

Oh, but I have to record these moments. I'll be interested, in my thirties, to know how I wasted my twenties. This record will be an invaluable source of depression. It will aid in my therapy, perhaps.

I think it would be fun to play Mama Rose in an imaginary production of Gypsy, but I don't think I can muster the mental energy to prepare myself for the imaginary role. And Ethel I ain't. Bette, either, although, god, I'd really like to be. Kirsten's Bette. When my sister was eleven she did the most fantastic Bette Midler impression you ever saw.

Today-- last night-- in art class, the girl next to me praised my gesture drawing of the naked Mr Clean and it made me feel so good and so embarrassed when she asked me what I was going to do with "it", meaning, I guess, my ability to make a praiseworthy gesture drawing?

Opened up my eyes taught me how to see notice every tree understand the light concentrate on now I want to move on I want to explore the light I want to know how to get through through to something new something of my own MOVE ON MOVE ON.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:21 AM | shower me with attention

Cracks in LCD screen getting inexplicably worse. I haven't done anything differently, they just started getting bigger.

I am not happy.

I wish I had $700.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:05 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, October 17, 2002

Once I asked an old man who didn't exist if Goose loved me.
The old man (who didn't exist) said, "Check your mail".
I thanked the man.
I came home and checked my mail.
And then I rewrote history to express my pleasure.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:25 PM | shower me with attention

Woah. That Paul Rudd is hot. I mean, yowza. How'd he get below my radar? Yes, okay, I was watching Friends. Give me a break. But, yum. Me likey. I wouldn't at all mind if they kicked Schwimmer out of the cast and made Rudd the new Ross. Yummmmm.

Really big, bald, muscular model today with a giant beer gut. Interesting. Terrible model, though. Kept breaking poses to scratch and stuff. Not appreciated.

Pleased to report that people are talkier in general in class. More comfortable. Again, me likey.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:30 PM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, October 16, 2002

A thing of beauty is a joy to behold.

(I'm not above cliches toni-i-i-ight.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:51 PM | shower me with attention

Oh, oh. Happy Oscar Wilde Day.

Tomorrow, my mum turns 52. Remind me to buy her a small cake. Something icky with lots of whipped cream. (I want no part of it; after a rotten weekend of eating terribly I am back on the straight, narrow and sugar-free.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:14 PM | shower me with attention

Nastybad weather outside.

Today I had to pack cartons upon cartons of catalogues to send off to sales representatives. It is not a usual part of my job, but special preparation for an upcoming sales conference. I felt like I had completed a good workout afterwards, although wished I had some deodorant and/or talcum powder handy. The rest of the day was spent quietly in my cubicle, typing mindlessly into a system in what was described as "running a sales report". Despite the lousy pay, I have decided that I definitely like my job. It's so exciting to be around all the books. There is a prominent poster displaying an upcoming work by one of my favourite authors. It is exciting to be a part of the company that puts out her material.

I also met one of the sales reps today. I liked him very much. I immediately dubbed him a "literary vagabond". He liked the title; he wants to put it on his business cards. I can easily see how he is an effective salesman. I believe I would buy just about anything from that guy, had I any money whatsoever. (Um, when are they going to deposit last week's meagre paycheck, already? My checking balance is zero. Big fat O, like myself.)

Class was boring. I think I was asleep for most of it.

Cat won't stop crying. Her reason for being is in San Francisco. It's going to be a very long week.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:12 PM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, October 15, 2002

Look how early I'm up and dressed and drinking my coffee. Ain't that a kicker? Ain't work a kicker? Eh?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:42 AM | shower me with attention

Monday, October 14, 2002

Glue. Must find Elmer's glue. Feel the need to peel.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:48 PM | shower me with attention

I really wish I was going to see Jim's new play.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:27 PM | shower me with attention

I'm a waste of humanity this weekend.

Crisp, bright blue autumn day out. I slept all day and now I'm in my pajammy-jams playing Collapse.

There's a good improv show at the UCB Theatre tonight. It only cost five bucks. Why am I not going? Because it would take more effort than it does to sit in my pajammy-jams playing Collapse.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:06 PM | shower me with attention

There's a certain space I can't enter into in conscious reality, a fantasy space I can only find when I'm asleep and dreaming, except for when I'm reading certain books from my childhood. I've been digging around my room trying to find The Neverending Story and it's driving me crazy. I know we have it somewhere. I've never actually read it all the way through and I really want to give it a try right now for some reason. I can't think of a good subsititute that won't open a can of worms (e.g. any book in Lloyd Alexander's Prydain series would necessitate my reading all of the other books and we don't have a whole copy of The Book of Three. Ditto Narnia. Ditto Xanth. Ditto Oz.)

I can't find Five Children and It, either.

D'oh d'oh d'oh. I'm in this place where only a well-written children's fantasy novel will do and I simply can't decide on one.

If I could sleep it would be fine. I found that space the other night in, of all things, a dream where my sister and Matt and I were swimming in a lake. I could see underwater. I can't do that in real life.

Where the hell is that damn book? I'm in the mood to clap for Tinkerbell. I need a semi-active part in the adventure. Kee-rap.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:37 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, October 13, 2002

I have an earache on the side where the cavity isn't. Explain that one, ladies and germs.

No caffeine and no... caffeine... makes Tavie something something.

Lay on the couch in a stupor all weekend, napping and watching bad tv?

Don't mind if I do!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:51 PM | shower me with attention

Slug!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:12 PM | shower me with attention