Literally Speaking

As a couple of my readers might have noticed, there’s a new tab at the top that says “Vlog”, whereby if you click on it, you will be directed to a fuzzy google video. I don’t recommend it, but you’re welcome to take a gander.

Some notes for next time:

1)Do hair.

2) Fix lighting

3) Find a tripod. From anywehere. I mean, how awkward is it that I’m laying on my stomach?

Also, I think that this is a good time to say that I want a Nikon for Christmas. In case you were wondering. In case the spirit of Christ overwhelms you to the point of spurging on a camera you don’t need and… well… I’m willing to take it off your hands.

Today I have a day off from pushing pills. (Oh! Did I not tell you? I’m working in a pharmacy until the Spring semester begins in January. For that school… that one I was telling you about… that’s close enough to San Fransisco to console me over this year’s tragedy. Working in a pharmacy is like a combination of chemistry 101 and accounting. Chemistry, actually, was my least favorite class in high school. Who cares, really, about the percentage of copper in pennies? However, pharmaceutical professions pay very well, and my Boss happens to have a son that’s an architect in Seattle and I have a thing for architects. So here I am.) Which is nice because I won’t be accountable for anyone’s life today and I had a chance to play some Scrabble. (Sexy word of the day: GLEANING. 68 points. Ka-Zam!) Also, I’ve been doing some fall cleaning, since I wasn’t here in the Spring to do it. I even went to the dentist this morning to, um, fill a cavity. (My first fucking cavity ever. Oh… my perfect teeth.)

Here I’m going to rant about sitting in the Dentist’s chair for a moment. I didn’t mind the grinding, the spraying, the numbing, or even the filling needle that almost made me cry NEARLY AS MUCH as the dentist trying to have a conversation with me while my mouth is splayed open like a frog’s tummy in a dissecting pan. Does he really want an answer? Because I could bite on his hand and say, “Yes, I do believe in free will.” I actually just rolled my eyes a lot, hoping that he would pick up on the universal signal for: “You’re being an annoying ass.” But he must not have been looking at my eyes. Which, I suppose, is a good thing.

I have my Halloween costume all planned. Last year, I was a ravaged Minnie Mouse. (Though not ravaged purposely. I couldn’t find, for the life of me, a place that sold Minnie Mouse ears so I had to construct my own. I would later find out that all of the costume stores are below 14th street.) One thing you must understand about yours truly is:

1) I hate wigs.

So I usually design my costumes around my hair. My hair is never the same two years in a row. When it was long and dark:

When it was curly and blond:

So this year, it’s all about Chicago.

Also, I am working on a page that will allow you to read some of the things I am working on. Things that will award me the Noble Peace Prize and make you proud. Hold tight.

Everyone knows that it is too early for snow. And I know that I’ve been resenting my leave of metropolis. In the “About Janet” section, it still says that bit:

 (Read: you couldn’t force me back to Nevada if you were threatening me with a storm of glass shards and acid band-aids.)

because I simply can’t bring myself to erase it… despite being forced back. Actually, I hate everything about August, September, and October. I admire writers who can channel their depression into masterpieces, because when I get depressed, I just stop writing.

Things I Enjoy About Being Here:

• Anthony and Co.
• My younger sisters.

Things That That Are Slowly Poisoning My Soul:

• The oppressing isolation from culture.
• Lack of college schedule. I SHOULD BE LEARNING RIGHT NOW DAMN IT ALL!
• Hostility from the Mormon community. Which, unfortunately, is the majority of the population.
• Having to drive everywhere again. I mean, this is fantastic. By the time I’m back where I belong, I’ll have to lose about ten pounds.
• Republicans.
• Really cheap champagne.
• A 9-5 that drains any desire to write poetry. Or blog posts.
• My constant disappointment in myself. I’m sure I did something incredibly stupid along the line. It may have been even moving to New York in the first place.

Anyway, yesterday I found myself writing feverishly again. Falling back in love with words. It’s nice having something to live for. I started writing a novel last year, some of you will remember George, for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I didn’t finish, though I managed a few chapters. I’ve picked up George again, feeling more satirical than ever. And hopeful, once again, that my imagination has a place in this terribly fucked world.