A moment's pause for some shameless publicity, everybody: I just found the grooviest website ever ( Read more... )

Since my last entry, I have managed to start sleeping up in the loft again (as un-ideal a sleeping habitat as that loft is, and as imperfect as my sleep is even up there -- or anywhere --  I do at least have to admit that I descend from the loft much more rested than I do from the couch).  Schedule's still fucked -- getting more fucked.  I stay ( Read more... )

It's been a few days since I've written -- mostly because I keep zonking out all the time; since I got back to the UK, my sleep schedule has been much more warped than ever.  I'm literally completely backwards -- no matter how exhausted I may think I am, no matter how many Snakebites I drink over the course of the evening, I can't go to sleep until ( Read more... )

I sent Mom a couple e-mails last night trying to put in my two cents -- my side of the story about what happened on the way to JFK.  I got a response from her this morning -- she'd attached the letter she apparently mailed to me (which hasn't yet arrived here in the mail), by way of some kind of explanation.

Her letter was very long and very hurtful ( Read more... )

I don't understand what is going on, and I think I may just go to bed.  It seems that Mom has cut me off -- she's cut me off to such an extent that she won't even speak to me to confirm that she has, indeed, cut me off.  I've been trying to Skype her, like, constantly for days... I usually get her on the first try, and we're talking about four ( Read more... )

I've decided it would be a good idea to pick up with my journal again, after nearly a year (having abandoned it in some sort of semi-despairing state early last August).  I don't know why the thought has struck me to start writing again at this particular moment, except that I'm reading I Capture the Castle just now, and maybe deep down I imagine ( Read more... )

You see, I kidded not:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/7914758.stm

Even I can't make this stuff up.  But now you have the BBC's word for it, too.

This was one of thirty possible chance lines of dialogue in a Happening by Dick Higgins in 1965:

Why am I the wrong one if I love her?

Ooooohhhhhhhh...

Jess (Graham, my bestest-of-all-time former roommate in L.A.) apparently had a dream that I was on the cover of Vogue and "looked super hot!"  I said, best dream EVER... and its really funny, because I had a dream about her the other night, too -- no joke!  Which is obvious good karma and clearly means that it was time for me and Jess to ( Read more... )