Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
carl & sue
have come to town! Today mom kept calling, "I just want cheap ethnic food, give me cheap ethnic food!" So I reminded her that white people are also and ethnicity, and hooked her up with some killer, cheap Vietnamese. Mom told me today about how after three months of pestering she got Dad to remove several boxes of junk from the attic. But, as Dad would counter, not all of it was junk: among it was this little gem.
"My Diary."
It had two entries. The first, on the title page, was the key to a "secret," unnamed language, invented of course by me. It has 27 characters, because it appears I decided that the letter 'O' needed to be represented twice by two different symbols. While creating a language was industrious, it seems I was not so bright. I did not realize that if I write put the key in an obvious place the language, is no longer secret. Luckily, I never relied on this language to protect my secrets. The only other entry is written in English:
fri. sept. 25, 1992
Dear kitty,
It is a warm summer afternoon, i'me liking up in the attic let me tell you a little about my self I am nine and I live in dartmouth I'm a little tall for my age and have brownish red hair. and I'me writing to you cause I need to tell some one. from Jill
"My Diary."
It had two entries. The first, on the title page, was the key to a "secret," unnamed language, invented of course by me. It has 27 characters, because it appears I decided that the letter 'O' needed to be represented twice by two different symbols. While creating a language was industrious, it seems I was not so bright. I did not realize that if I write put the key in an obvious place the language, is no longer secret. Luckily, I never relied on this language to protect my secrets. The only other entry is written in English:
fri. sept. 25, 1992
Dear kitty,
It is a warm summer afternoon, i'me liking up in the attic let me tell you a little about my self I am nine and I live in dartmouth I'm a little tall for my age and have brownish red hair. and I'me writing to you cause I need to tell some one. from Jill
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Sorry. I don’t quite know what to say on here anymore now. So much goes on in my days, in my life, inside of me, and I don’t know that I feel well to air it. More and more, words seem to be such sharp, busy, imprecise things. I wrote a big, long paper about that once. In hindsight, sort of defeated the purpose now, didn’t it. As I age I come more silent. Nonetheless, I have committed to talking here. And if I must, contrary to popular opinion, I believe talk of the weather has merit.
The sun has been so good for me. I am sure it heals the heart. After it’s been for ten days when it goes away for a time, I find myself more apt to bear it. My body feels increasingly better, too. Riding my bike, each morning and night, my hips, a steady and stronger rotation. The wind washes over me for this hour each day and I feel peaceful. It finally rained this afternoon and the air smelled so musty sweet it made me want to go the gallery and sit in the garden. It was locked, so I sat by the fountain. It began to rain again. The palm trees are so kind and I feel the blood warming different parts of my body, constantly. I have known sweetness, known it inside. It is only for this that I have the ability to feel sad. Winter staring back at me from the bottom of my tea cup. I have so many expectations. Pretty marbles in a mason jar. And there is nothing I can do but examine each one over and put it back again. Grow older. I don’t know how to move forward and less and less do I believe in this. And maybe that is really it. So I have decided to believe in magic instead. Other people say they know it is real, but I can only feel it sometimes. Nothing can be said either way to convince me. But if I am quiet enough I am sure I can hear the blood in my veins. It is enough.
The sun has been so good for me. I am sure it heals the heart. After it’s been for ten days when it goes away for a time, I find myself more apt to bear it. My body feels increasingly better, too. Riding my bike, each morning and night, my hips, a steady and stronger rotation. The wind washes over me for this hour each day and I feel peaceful. It finally rained this afternoon and the air smelled so musty sweet it made me want to go the gallery and sit in the garden. It was locked, so I sat by the fountain. It began to rain again. The palm trees are so kind and I feel the blood warming different parts of my body, constantly. I have known sweetness, known it inside. It is only for this that I have the ability to feel sad. Winter staring back at me from the bottom of my tea cup. I have so many expectations. Pretty marbles in a mason jar. And there is nothing I can do but examine each one over and put it back again. Grow older. I don’t know how to move forward and less and less do I believe in this. And maybe that is really it. So I have decided to believe in magic instead. Other people say they know it is real, but I can only feel it sometimes. Nothing can be said either way to convince me. But if I am quiet enough I am sure I can hear the blood in my veins. It is enough.
Monday, December 29, 2008
exhausted. these vacations that aren't vacations. you know. so i remembered that canada is cold. never knew how cold alberta until today. and packing all those winter scarves and mitts i must have forgot how warm california is. like a dream i get off the final plane and the outdoor temperature is like the indoor temperature. lug my stuff home in a cardigan sans mittens and soon am sweating. it is magical. the air smells great. people in california act kind, they make conversation, they offer to carry your suitcases. when i arrived home there was a fire burning and two huskies to greet. unpacking i found a patch in my pocket, one i got in berlin that says "trust your desires." i've abided by that with california and with lately. how painful and exciting this life is.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Justin took me out for perhaps the best meal of my life last week. Out on the town four nights in a row and on the fifth flew through the night to Halifax. Arrived on "Christmas Eve," an event called prematurely because of Afghanistan. Christmas yesterday, Tracy left today, on a last minute flight to beat the snow. Put on a game face for lunch at the great aunt's. Tonight I am exhausted and bowled over by such a depth and range of emotions. Physically. My senses feel mixed with the falling snow.
Monday, December 15, 2008
twenty
fucking six.
telling myself i just ashed the last cigarette of my life.
please.
geburtstag: was gut: brunch- perhaps the best in the city yet. apple juice mimosas, soyrizo, grilled bananna bread. roommates who, by the way are great and who i'm going with to tahoe in january. a day in front of the fireplace with flight of the concords, tea, red nailpolish, telephone calls from my my mother. and friends. an evening, a good evening. great dinner at Beretta with janna. calamari risotto with squid ink. whoda thought? cocktails with grapefruit, tequila and elderflower certainly need to be repeated. went to revolution for concert and the bartender who is usually an asshole gave me free drinks because it was my bithday and i still know how. made some drunk friends. smoked my last cigarette of my life i hope. cuz i want a clean face in two thousand eighteen. going home in five days for early christmas. fuckk. that's about the extent of my comprehension right now. for better or worse, i continue. as i am and have been. a Demmons, "Demmons!" to the max.
telling myself i just ashed the last cigarette of my life.
please.
geburtstag: was gut: brunch- perhaps the best in the city yet. apple juice mimosas, soyrizo, grilled bananna bread. roommates who, by the way are great and who i'm going with to tahoe in january. a day in front of the fireplace with flight of the concords, tea, red nailpolish, telephone calls from my my mother. and friends. an evening, a good evening. great dinner at Beretta with janna. calamari risotto with squid ink. whoda thought? cocktails with grapefruit, tequila and elderflower certainly need to be repeated. went to revolution for concert and the bartender who is usually an asshole gave me free drinks because it was my bithday and i still know how. made some drunk friends. smoked my last cigarette of my life i hope. cuz i want a clean face in two thousand eighteen. going home in five days for early christmas. fuckk. that's about the extent of my comprehension right now. for better or worse, i continue. as i am and have been. a Demmons, "Demmons!" to the max.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Well, well. Providence means I am where I should be always. Tonight I drank a little whisky at a party, little truly, and I am not unruly or sad. Lately some real sad things happened and yet tonight I found myself dancing by myself tonight. A patient told me today it may snow on Monday in San Francisco for the first time since the 1980's. Maybe I'm beginning to believe in something. Tonight I found this postcard on my rug:
To myself, to you,
I've been dealing with a lot of death lately, more than I could have ever imagined. Life has been really good lately- very sweet, very difficult, very imporant. I've been living in increments lately- "If this were my last, if this were my only day, how would I?" I have been loving the people I love lately. I have been spending money I do not have on the best chocolate cake in town, I have been hugging puppies. I haven't been rash as one could be living this way. When the day concludes I do not regret it.
a drawing of a heart,
Jillian Marie
To myself, to you,
I've been dealing with a lot of death lately, more than I could have ever imagined. Life has been really good lately- very sweet, very difficult, very imporant. I've been living in increments lately- "If this were my last, if this were my only day, how would I?" I have been loving the people I love lately. I have been spending money I do not have on the best chocolate cake in town, I have been hugging puppies. I haven't been rash as one could be living this way. When the day concludes I do not regret it.
a drawing of a heart,
Jillian Marie
Monday, December 8, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
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