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Below are the 25 most recent journal entries.

	2009.11.24  00.49 i cant believe that after cooking for 15 hours straight and being super tired, i want to paint right now.this is the fall i remember

	2009.11.22  02.45 we have these to prosbies that are from chicago- they are both slightly tan fancy hippies with super long dreaded hair- i am convinced that if they become members, they will teach us about the matrix. oh and they both also kinda look like heath ledger and get drunk and talk to each other in scottish accents.

	2009.11.21  04.41 if i get home 'fore daylight there something about a bonfire out back filled with people who to use to live where you do, there something about a band in thier living room playing their best songs, and covers of the pixies, the band, old crow, or evan weezer where this is us this is what we live for. this was all bought and sold way back when and we all 20 of us have still memorized, perhaps on our own...on that way back home on the train or walking back home...but in a neverending capitalistic world or hikes and money, its all us and its now and its we. and we own it. stomping and a yelling these songs as our own reclaimed anthems.

	2009.11.20  14.43 the good the bad the fuck you sometimes i feel like i live in a production of real world; only we do not have cameras and confessional. We have meetings and minutes.

	2009.11.18  00.45 i'm making the menu (vegan sans the turkey) and cooking (with a few souchefs) a thanksgiving feast for 14-30 people. oh boy...

	2009.11.03  01.52 your knocking on my door at 5:30 in the morning; waking me up out of my nightmare in which your mother is snarling and telling me i am a bad influence/not good enough to be your friend. rather odd.

	2009.11.01  03.54 my halloween. hmm. it was a good, not what i had thought. well given life advice from a 55 year old family friend going through a crisis- to sip my jamba juice slower. still secret dance parties and even more secret laundry parties. a and yeah so happy to be out of a bra

	2009.10.26  02.18  your smell. it was something i had heard before. some memory. something sweet yet artificial. something common yet describable. elderly woman on the bus you smell of early morningings in the ICU, you smell of coffee that is beginning to burn, of some diebetics urine. Something sacahrine and sweet, something associted with unforseen horror movies in the afternoon. we where crossing together yet, you where slammed into like a ghost on laurel. my thoughts drift above me and once again i am talking too much. that might of been his car, avoiding me.  .

	2009.10.17  05.02 its not every day you see a movie thats said and truthful and pg. its not everyday that someone gets curb stomped and stabbed to death at the sevie, a block from home. its not everyday our neighbors have loud parties, louder than ours not everyday do i come home to a party. not everyday do i get seranaded by my house mates at the end of said party, dunkenly mumbeling outkast and whatnaught,

	2009.10.14  03.23 led twilight and smoke is rising slower in the rain shoes that welcome water and fire spiting like a hot pan of bacon listening to the same songs for days something new to cherish and hold on to while the soups sitting there next to all those greasy patatoe pancakes who can blame them beauty filled with more of the same mundane challenges like sleeping with the germans, quietly. your moving out i am moving up in theory so to speak

	2009.10.07  16.23 nothing like coffee and red bull to pull you through the day.

	2009.10.03  05.08 i cant sleep. my sleep cycle is off. and ive had a bad case of writers block or rather whatever writers block is for artist. i have alot of ideas, but a majority of them just seem like images floating around in my mind, images that i want to put to paper just for fuck's sake. (im also having issues with the fact that i like to look at something to draw it, instead of looking into my minds images- and this has led to chronic internet searching and computers that need not be involved~ie i do not want this to be my process) Like my assasination series, or images relating to the chernobyl disaster...they are all fine and dandy but i guess i wasn't really feeling as if they were connected to me in some way. not from the haert so to speak. And the images and work i have been thinking about, the stuff thats about my dad dieing, well it all seemed a bit cliche and not ironed out. but i got an idea...or i guess one to add to the pile of still good ideas. funny thing though i opened my mothers lap top to write this entry when i realized the sound i just heard was her going to the bathroom*. And for a second im tensing up cuz im worried shes going to find me awake at 5am, and ask if ill be able to hop out of bed at 10 am when we all go see a movie. i tensed up and then realized i was thinking like she was my dad. my mother could care less if i was awake, and it would not be that rare of a thing for us both to still be up. But my father, everytime he went to the bathroom he would look in me to see if i was still up. And when i was he would just simply say in his semi shocked voice "oh your still up?" My dads sleep cycle was always a early to bed early to rise kinda thing, so my nocturnal tendencies never seemed normal to him and he always seemed alittle exasperated that i was still up- your not supposed to be awake at 5 in the morning. *for some reason my mom and dad use/d the hallway bathroom instead of the one in their room.

	2009.09.30  04.05 yogurt covered pretzels seize to amaze me. i hate pretzels, and im not the biggest fan of food that texturely feels regurgitated. these little wonders though, are ah maze INGggg. i find myself nabbing a few at the food bin, circa 11:38 pm when i'm picking up fresh rosemary for my focaccia bread (as ia saw Edward Epse brown speak at Bookshop SC about cooking and life) and you know, what else would i be doing at this hour if i wasn't watching french films about sexuality. Of course i also wrangled home some of the free produce the food bin relinquishes to the rest of us who aren't afraid of a little bit of wilting or bruising. and i did get side tracked when some of my house mates wanted to drink sierra nevada, smoke some hookah, talk about movies and watch 1940's swing dancing videos. And you know later about life and self image... But then again all of this is just a simplification of the real deal.

	2009.09.20  11.54 terrorism is sexy raw olives and a pirate ship. the scavengers most likely have scurvy and fleas. fruit only last so long these days; unattended backyard campfires.

	2009.09.19  03.37 you know you have sleeping problems when the only shut eye you've gotten in 48 hours is a hour and a half car nap in a parking garage in china town- and its almost 4am and ur still awake.

	2009.09.16  01.33 when you skip your prime. i woke up late. real late. and right after my cereal theres aram inviting me to join him attending the Museum of Art and History volunteer orientation- advertised as something to plump the resume; and you know im thinking- something that would feel good..be up my alley so to speak. Even though i had never been to and usually snickered about the thought of the MAH - a museum that seemed to be more gift shop than gallery (at least from the street view) i was interested. But their galleries were gorgeous, and their incorporated Santa Cruz history end of things is the kind of stuff my mother would just eat up, and thus something i have respect and an affinity for. Hell some of the art was even good. I avoided promissing myself to any docent or greeter status type activities, signing up (in theory) to the events and happenings with the idea that i would be making food, decorating, and cleaning up with the older women who run the joint. Oh the times we would share. But later in the day i got real with myself and realized that volunteering at the MAH is something you do when you have the spare time in your retirement, something you feel good about because you are "supporting the arts" and giving back to (a) community. Volunteering at the MAH is for those elderly women at the orientation who opted to take the stairs when the rest of us lively young'ns took the elevator. Or as the one older guy at the power point presentation eerily stated "something to give my life structure". and i mean, my idea of contemporary art is not plain aire oil pastels of the boardwalk.

	2009.09.10  01.58 hilarity ensues "i just found a victim of 9-11 in my navel" was a text i got from Aram today. On its own, it's already super special. The story behind it : I made paper mache twin tower pinatas. The insides are filled with black hole punches - 2,603 split between the two- representing the people who died in the towers (candy just didnt seem classy). I sat on Aram's floor watching Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, punching 30 holes at a time and emptying the hole punch collector into a tubberware container in front of me. During which Aram took a shower and left to go make us soup for diner. So we both have no F'n idea how one of my black hole punches ended up in his belly button, and when i walked over to see said victim for myself, alittle perplexed- Aram Exclaimed "it's one of the missing people!" (24 people are still considered missing).

	2009.09.07  12.15 some crazy old man was behind me at the ugly mug and eagerly commented on a flyer for a "suduko death match"- thats just ridiculous. How suduko had replaced the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. ridiculous. i muttered my only response to his monologue "hmm different society". But - and heres a bit of the crazy- he continued to inform me how it was all the accountants who had done it. all those number-loving accountants.

	2009.09.06  22.43 while getting lunch and cake supplies today at whole foods (yes i know mackey is a douche) i got rather excited by the prospect of labeling my bin goods with a sticker rather than twist tie; i am always knotting the bags to begin with so i have no need for the twist tie. But as i tore the sticker off the roll, i managed to also tear through some layers of skin on my palm using the metal teeth of the sticker dispencer. I had a pretty great time asking some employees who were chatting in a semi circle infront of pizza area if they had a band aid - a great time since i was asking while a nice fatty red trickle of blood rolled down my hand. they welcomed me back into their work station, had me wash and dry my hands and then gave me two bright blue band aids ("one for the road"). Later, after the band aid had worn off and i happened to be moving a queen sized matress from house to house - well thats when the scab ripped off and i bled everywhere for a good minute or two before i noticed the smears in the moonlight.

	2009.08.30  14.26 oh zami... this morning i was eating some buttered toast when alisha, the talkative woodies couch surfer, pauses mid sentence as she walks into the kitchen and says looking down "oh, thats a dead bird" my stomach turns and i'm slightly nauseated with disgust. I walk over a notice for the first time the dead parakeet that is sprawled infront of the fridges, and my only reaction is to keep eating a laugh about how i had not noticed the thing. Of course this kind of thing can happen when you give your cats a dead parakeet- it shows up later with feathers soaked in saliva.

	2009.08.05  01.05 your stout my porter and we got a little tipsy and talked about common room uses and color theory. and what constitutes a brown; delving into the spectrum that is. i now know that sepia is named after the cuddle fish. and thankfully you're not mildly severely color blind, but alas neither of us are tetrachromats. you fell asleep and i ladled lavender paint into my jars via an old paint stick out by the gate.

	2009.07.20  14.40 Painting the common room yesterday with spencer and animal, singing along to the montain goats, I had one of those momments. Everything was good and fit together, the stars had aligned in the heaven, and that inflatable toy in my brain called happiness filled out .

	2009.07.19  14.31 we were at in and out. we always eat at in and out when we are in san jose. and you hoped you had more of your mothers genes, ho you could live into your 80's if you just took care of yourself. instantly i thought "oh god, who would ever want to live to be that old? think of all the heartache, bullshit, drama, and loss you would of gone through. "

	2009.07.15  16.32 i finished reading "the elegance of the hedgehog"- our book clubs first book, found myself distraught and then sobbing about my dad. fucking heart ache.

	2009.07.12  14.08 the whole "who would win in a fight between a unicorn and a narwhal" has become a metaphor for life. i have hardwood floors, a bed and a work table. music as loud as i want and friends who are even louder.