Thursday, August 31, 2006

Anna and Alcedo in 1994, or, Your Face Is Going to Freeze That Way

I've still got that goose, of course. Until I took that picture out of its frame tonight, I'd forgotten he had a name. I'd begun thinking he was a she. Sorry, Alcedo. I owe you more loyalty than that. Mostly these days I knock my guitar over with you when you fall from on top of the boxes - yeah, those boxes - and off the shelf. We've been together a long time.

I make that face a lot in pictures. Remind me not to pout so much. I know I can get my way without having to beg for it. My heart pounds when I say the Pledge only because I rushed to get to class. I was ugly from age seven until the day I cut off my hair. I wish more people remembered the day I lost fourteen inches of the worthless past. "It's My Life" was playing in the shop. I hope whoever got the wig made a great future with it.

On the catwalk above the auditorium there's a lot of dirt, a lot of people, and me. I say, "I'm not scared of heights, I'm not scared of heights, I'm not scared of heights, I'm not scared of heights, I'm not scared of heights."

Ben says, "I don't believe you."

"Actually, I'm not," I say, and honestly. What I am is good at convincing myself of anything. Every time tawny fighter jets scream over the castle, my ghost appers on the wall of that balcony, flip-flops dangling three floors above the stone patio, screaming, "Wow! Wow!", because of the roar and the dead people and the danger and the carelessness. She's alive, she's so damned alive, screaming into the noise and the silence. I'm not afraid of having ever been so happy. I'm just afraid I'll never make it back.

There's eight hundred empty red seats a long way under the cracks between the boards. "It's not the height you should be scared of," says Ben, "It's the ground."
Faut qu'elle crève de bonheur
Ou qu'elle change de godasses
Faut qu'elle croule sous les fleurs
Change de couleur
Je vais prendre ta douleur,
Je vais jouer au docteur,
Je vais prendre ta douleur
- Camille, "Ta Douleur"
(Alex's concert pictures)
orginal one | arted one
orginial two | arted two

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Hate to Say (I Told You So)

No, there really isn't anything I don't know that I can't at least make up.

There's a girl who hadn't given away her armsocks or her heart. The orange goo one on my shelf spread into a sticky blob overnight. The point of the heart I drew in the fog on the school bus window started to cry rain. The boys and girl behind me condescended and fought viciously for their cool. When I stood up to leave their infuriatingly four-cournered little world, they complimented fomerly Alison's fedora. Fake young suburban dandies ridicule the weaker of mind and ignore the braver of action.

I've gained deep respect for the talent jelly beans have when it comes to sticking people together. Last weekend I watched two and half movies at listened to six or seven entire albums at least. No wonder I didn't write anything about the Federalist Papers. I'm most interested in the rights that didn't make it in the bill. The only things I've ever written in church are an Elvish tirade and four more lines of the Epic of Riley Dakota.
Your preacher left when his liberties became too few,
Left when collection plates went empty through every pew.
And you, Riley, you left when the pulpit's new man came -
You up and left, because it's really all the same.
Brilliant young beatniks have a flair for the most wildly understated theatrics. Don't let me lose track of this. Next person who sees Jarod, make sure he has my number. I still have the receipt for those armsocks, back when they were still the knee variety. Mmm, knees. I've still got a blue-and-white striped pair. The house ate the pink-and-white pair. What happened to my paper bag and my pirate gold, hmm?

Five words sung make us stick clover and goldenrod in statues, and where will it stop? We're got sparks seething through our skin and we've got to singe strangers while we can.

These lyrics can be snarled and might lose Alison five bucks for all her trouble. (He didn't bet on the parentheses, dear. But you might buy me a sandwich.)

Hate to say I told you so, alright - c'mon
I do believe I told you so...

Do what I please, gonna spread the disease - because I wanna
Gonna call all the shots for the "no"s and the "not"s - because I wanna


Ask me once, I'll answer twice, 'cause what I know I'll tell - because I wanna

- The Hives, "Hate To Say I Told You So"

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

And Your Enemies Closer

Don't I just feel like a teenager. Love drama drama! I think it's mature of us that we're all so damn sorry, and young that not a one of us is going to stop. I could fix it all if I could, couldn't I? If I could control myself the whole untamed thing would be over. I can't. If I could, I don't know if I would.

Looking at any other boy I can't have, I find that I don't want them anyway. I'm distanced from everyone. I'm fond of nearly everybody, but I don't need hardly anyone. Am I adjusted? Mellowed? Just lonely.

The words "he doesn't love you anymore" have resurfaced recently. I'm avoiding clasping my hands again. Well, someone else will have a much easier time getting to Indianapolis than I would. Could we still run to meet each other?

My eyes are itching again and tears aren't helping. I touched something in a plastic bag from chemistry last year and the stings haven't left my fingers. I was going to throw away some old orange goo, but I made a heart shape with it and decided I'd keep it. Maybe you will have somebody to give it to, I thought.

An orange goo heart, annA? I know you fell, but I thought the scars on your knees were gone.

I'm faking it, dear, because I have to.

I suspect my stomach and heart might have traded places when all the little things on my desk started to remind me of when I wanted you to touch them. I broke out in a sweat so cold I had to take off all my clothes. I should have known love and hate can fuse.

Oh, quit crying, both of us. When I stop listening to this song I'll remember that this year is starting so much sunnier than the last ended. Every ounce of my crazy cocky confidence is back. I can make faces like that one. I'll get what I want, and time isn't any object. That's even funny. Time is intangible. I'll be nicer, I'll do well in every class, I'll look great, and I'll have friends from eight til three at least. Don't watch the lines under my eyes, because I want to be the only one who knows that I'm living on three hours of sleep.

I really do think you're impossibly cooler than me. Did you know there are Decaturs in eleven states? Good luck finding out what happened in 1922. Thank you for showing me you're not perfect. The Little Engine That Could said, "I think I can". I think I can? I will. Eeoyre said, "It's not much of a tail, but I'm kind of attached to it." Ours isn't much of a tale, but we'll both win in the end, and I love you to death.
Well if I remain passive and you just want to cuddle,
Then we should be okay and we won't get in a muddle

- Belle & Sebastian, "Seeing Other People"

Look At Me, Tragedy

Well, we all want our names dropped. But the Internet doesn't write in blood. Great Scott, worst of times, the best of times never expected this out of you!

And I didn't. I wouldn't tell anyone some of the thoughts I've had, but I'll tell you all that I've never had this one. But now even Wednesdays are conspiring against me. Wednesdays!

Look at me, tragedy, the levity hasn't left me yet. Now my hair is flaming and I just look desperate and used, again. Again again again again. This is enough to make me wonder if the depths of despair have got it out for me, except that I know it's really truely my fault. What a bitter business that's still soaked in sadness.

I hurt people to own them. The Ex-Guyfriend showed me that, in that fake way he does anything. Alex showed me again, and worse. And, here you're someone I love that I tried to always be nice to. I still feel bad about showing my reaction to your scar. Even remember that? That was two years ago, my real good friend. How is it the Ex-Guy is tangled up in that one, too?

I was going to quote "What You're Doing", but oh, when I've get the chance to be vicious, why not? I'm wicked to have caused this, I'm wicked to be jealous of it, I'm even jealous of how wicked you get to be. We're eating each other's misery. So just turn this song on its head, take it at straight face value, and maybe I've got you crying too.
Well I'd rather see you dead, little girl,
Than to be with another man
You better keep your head, little girl,
Or I won't know where I am

You better run for your life if you can, little girl,
Hide your head in the sand, little girl,
Catch you with another man,
That's the end... little girl

- The Beatles, "Run For Your Life"

I'll tell you a secret.

I'm sickly documentary.

That's a picture of the first heartbreak.

You broke me again, but it's coming back.

What's that?

I'm sorry it has to get so bitter, but I'm going to be happy, and you know what I mean.

I'm going to have my way.

And we all know what that means.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Revisions in the Middle of the Night

Something's fanning my spark for outfits. Those pants I've only worn once, the ones that got me my favorite compliment ever - "Hey, Halloween was last month!" - those look great rolled up to knicker-length. Homemade ankle chain, and I can join the shoeless train. I'm enough style to look like substance, and I'll have to look out for glass.
You're kissing Rafe and there are butterflies in your street.
Riley, you promised the mirror you wouldn't cheat.
Do you remember your girl back home? She remembers you,
And you'll come to me when you see what you're about to do.

I'm the face in the smudges and the girl in the moon.
You tell me what you'll do and I say, "Not so soon."
I know I'm in at least one photo on your phone,
And once upon my bed you called my house your home.
Ooh, it gets worse and worse. And wow, the puncuation is just the same in both stanzas, and that came totally on its own. If I don't watch out, this is going to be a running joke.

The bigger the messes I make, the less there is to clean up. Can I get some life-sized mannequins so I can let loose all the personalities I've got chained to the wall? Can I get some strips of blank speech bubbles so I can write down the dialogues I trace on the ceiling? Can I get a pea to see if I'm a princess or some frogs to see if they'll be mine?

Oh my, am I getting lyrical and wacky.
I had a conversation with you at night
It's a little one sided, but that's all right
I tell you in the kitchen about my day
You sit on the bed in the dark changing places
With the ghost that was there before you came
You've come to save my life again

- Belle & Sebastian, "Funny Little Frog"

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Alone With Somebody

Summer is ending for beautiful kids I'll never meet in places I'll never go to. Well, doesn't that just come down to changing leaves and being unique.

Tonight, Friday, Saturday, and then Sunday night I'll be dying my hair. My bathroom will look like a body washed down the bathtub. My hair will look like I shower in strawberry juice. Salon people look the whole long way down their noses at me.

A old mouse-nibbled paperback is lying around the house. It's Of Mice And Men, and that's deep irony for me, anyway. I met a mouse. He poked his head out the space under the ceiling tile whose twin is in the Tavern, turned around and scritched all over in the dark up above. I didn't name him in case I saw him in a trap in the morning. All kinds of things get scary in the night. Excitement and fear wear big grey ears and a strong tail.

Nothing's made it into the poetry notebook for a while. Those polka dots up top, those are, or were, a photograph of the cover of my poetry notebook. I'm so glad I've finally got lines to put in that book, it's so darn cute.
Have you ever bought drugs just to think about hands they've been through?
Ever thought about how they grew up on a farm somewhere too?
I haven't, but I didn't. Have you? Did you? It's about some pretty boy who won't admit life has changed yet, I suppose. I need somebody to name Riley, and a hero's as good as anybody, isn't he?
You're kissing Rafe and there are butterflies in your street
Do you remember your girl back home? She remembers you
Riley, you told the mirror over the bar you wouldn't cheat
And you'll come to me when you see what you're about to do
Now where did the "I" come from in this story? Just sympathetic narrator, I suppose. But how did things get so damn personal?

I mistook a Canadian dime, a Mexican dime, and two coins that are at least partly Greek to me for American dimes. I need to pick a color of thread to sew a scarlet button to a scarlet ribbon. I decided The Scarlet Letter was a bit dense for me. For all of Monday, school will seem fresh and relevant, and then that will be the end of that.
You're here, but you're so sweet in denial
You're like Amish kids trying modernity
And is it worth their while, and is that a fair trial
And what does it all mean to you anyway?

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Keep Trying

Topic: What Anna Did Last Night
Why rejected: Is of no interest to anyone except annA, the people she was with, and the girl in front of us in line who gave us the weird look when Alison tried to walk through the wall.

Topic: annA's Inexpressible Love Of Alison
Why rejected: Is inexpressible.

Topic: Why annA Has Taken To Spelling Her Name Backwards
Why rejected: I'm not spelling my name backwards, what are you talking about?

Topic: annA and Alex
Why rejected: Subject has been declared dead in fifty-one states and Puerto Rico.

Topic: Where annA Is Going To Be From Tomorrow Until Next Thursday
Why rejected: It's so boring even she doesn't want to talk about it.

Monday, August 07, 2006

The Last Thing Anyone Needs Is Two of Me in Neckties

Things I will say if, during the next year, you ask me, "How are you?":
• "Super-duper!"
• "Tickled pink."
• "I'm gear!"
• "Positively peachy keen."
• "Just ducky, what about you?"

I'm hoping to have enough to say something different every day. Of course, that's no good unless I have friends who ask every day. What d'you say?

What's that you say? "What if you're not in a good mood?"

...What are you talking about?

I suggest everybody grab one of those rediculous picture and stick it on their desktop so they can see the thumbnail. It looks like I'm kissing a handgun. Or that's what I think, anyway. Once you've finished admiring how fab it is when really small, you can change the filename to "my pet annA", and just let me live there. Don't worry, you won't be the only one. I have a sulky punk named "brodie08" and a retro pansy named Ollie who live on my desktop.

Apologies for the post previous not having a picture sooner. It does now, so get scrolling and take a gander. It's one of those moments that's like the short seat in the back of the bus. Everybody at some point thought it was their very own. Hey, Alison, even this guy doesn't say "sooof".
Put Sufjan Stevens on,
And we'll play your favorite song
"Chicago" bursts to life and your
Sweet smile remembers you, my...

Hands open, and my eyes open
I just keep hoping
That your heart opens

- Snow Patrol, "Hands Open"

Sunday, August 06, 2006

The Sweetest, Most Adorable Boy I've Ever Met

Alex, you're going to have to tell Jared to read his namesake post.

Jan (Gracie, whoops, Ginger the golden retriever not pictured); Max; girl I don't know; one guess who; don't know; forgot; Jared; my fellow barefoot groupies, Kelsey Chelsea and Alison Hat Lady.

I woke up before 5:30 this morning and I know just why. Sunday, of course. I sometimes write about misery like nobody's going to understand me if it doesn't read just as horrible as it feels. I know what it would feel like if I had not only to cry myself sleep but awake, and every night and day. I'm going to have to find some way of watching my stupid comments dig me deeper into my demise every day of the week and living with it.

Could I really have been prettier last night than months ago? The only difference was how mussed and gunked up my hair was. Still is, because I haven't washed it. I like this better, with my banana-blonde streak showing. My hair's never liked being combed and correct. I thought it had to be. And what about less irritating that I used to be? Maybe my personality has changed. Maybe Alex just needed an excuse. "You're ugly and aggravating" works as well as anything. I still annoy myself. I'm working on it.

Calling me obsessive just means I'm loyal. Is that so bad, really? Someday I'll be fabulous enough to bounce off the reputation he's given me. Oh, those days when the light at noon is hardly better than the light in the early morning that's less sunshine than milk. Yesterday was sunny.

This song made me think of the Ex-Guy, back in the day. It's taken me a while to feel it applies to me now. I didn't feel I'd started this story sappy or pathetic. Well, of course I did. I even tried his shoes on. If only you knew how I'm trying.
I know who I am, but who are you?
You're not looking like you used to
You're on the other side of the mirror
So nothing's looking quite as clear
Thank you! for turning on the lights
Thank you!, now you're the parasite
I didn't think you had it in you,
And now you're looking like I used to!

- No Doubt, "Sunday Morning"

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Live, Motion, Camera

Today I got up, fell in love, and got dumped, all before breakfast. I'm considering a change in lifestyles.

Actually, I didn't get up until after lunch.

(I'm considering anyway.)

They tell me I'm getting too opaque. Anything I do for long enough turns into art. I think that's how it is for humanity. The Art of War, The Art of Love.

I want a reputation. It's going to be like an attic. Anything that needs to fit, can. Remember what success comes in?

A mind shows your deepest wishes asleep. I dream, again and again, but it always turns out not to be him. It means keep searching. You always find it in the last place you look. Quick, tell me you recognize that opening line. Those were my first words on the subject.

I am finally getting some big white sunglasses. Even flat plastic gives me headaches, and I've broken every pair of sunglasses I've ever owned. I had a pair with gold lions, a pair with gold frames, a pair with purple lenses, an expensive and boring pair.

Now I need red hair, green tea, red shoes. I'm considering a change in favorite colors.

And I am so never, ever dating anyone who doesn't appreciate Oasis.

Maybe I will never be
All things that I wanna be
But now is not the time to cry,
Now's the time to find out why
I think you're the same as me
We see things they'll never see
You and I are going to live forever

- Oasis, "Live Forever"
Psst! Look at the pink box, kids. No. one is my favorite band. Nos. two, three, and four are the favorite bands/artist of the last three guys I've fallen for. In order. [Note for posterity: They were The Libertines, David Bowie, Weezer, and the Beatles. - August 7]