Eating Alone...

yeah that's a gov pun...deal with it.

I walked into Carl's Jr. wearily. You'd be annoyed if you had just called your mom to pick you up and you were...alone. But I was weary...because when she said "I'll be there in fifteen," she meant thirty. I spoke slowly (stretching every syllable in "number 16" as long as i could)...slurped slowly...and sank into my seat like an invalid.

I was eating by myself...i had no real reason to be sad. I had never really seen the stigma of self-reliance (eating alone, watching movies alone, running alone.) But, even with the other eight or nine other people in the room i felt so completely lonely...

my food was gone, i must have eaten it......the vibration broke my trance. Mom was here. I walked back to Rubio's parking lot and hopped in the car, slammed the door. I saw him, with his mouth open. He asked for change, but i had dollars. I rolled down the window and pulled the handle from the outside (now a routine, our passenger door handle is broken). I guess he noticed cause after i handed him the money ("I appreciate it"), he pointed to it and i explained...he cracked a weak smile, a tiny chuckle.

I told my mom the bum laughed at me, jokingly....she concluded, "See, we're ghetto too..."

i don't wanna outlive my parents...

My mom was flipping through stations (strange because she usually just listens to kroq). She found an old song and started to hum. I paused my ipod, the song sounded oddly familiar...Pearl Jam's cover of Frank and the Cavalier's "Last Kiss" floated out of the radio.........she sang along in her whispy alto. When my mom sings i forget about her speaking voice...it has a tendency to scrape the ear drum, not, particualry, because it sounds grating but...it's always an octave louder than necessary. But when she's singing i forget about the volume and the nagging...i imagine she's only singing to me.

what if you could choose the last thing you heard, saw, smelled, felt or tasted before you died...I realized her voice is the last thing i want to hear before i die...her imperfect version of shoo, fly, shoo preferably...

Skyline Dr.

After going seventy mph up a steep road, life seems so...slow. I wanna clench life's cup holders and upholstery more often...

In the Eye of the Befriender

Friendship should be involuntary...like blinking

Vest in Show

I didn't want to undress. It wasn't the fact that it was two in the morning or that i couldn't find the remote for my light (its been missing for four days...). I just wanted to keep that feeling...but i unbuttoned my vest anyway. Even in the dark the suit looked so empty on the hanger.

I decided to leave my dress socks on.

what if formal wear was your mandatory school uniform...hair, make-up, the works. (I just want to wear a vest everyday...)

Paddleball

what if your genitals grew out of your hand...left or right, your choice (probably the non-writing hand, unless your a pervert)...haha, handholding would cost money

Bleeding Gums Murphy

Sometimes i brush my teeth longer than necessary...its not really a conscious effort. The last time i clocked it in at two and a half songs...i'm guessing that's around seven minutes. Well, on some level i'm just mindlessly brushing, but somewhere...a little deeper i'm thinking of how attractive i could be if i had a white smile...that by scrubbing the plaque off my teeth, i could wash away the acne, melt the lovehandles, etc... Then i remember my teeth are crooked...and i'm late.

Growing Pains

Shopping for propeller hats, oversized lollipops, dynamic capes, and princess outfits can wear anybody out...even a kid at heart (which i am apparently). Still, it was a nostalgic rollercoaster (i miss the wonder of theme parks incedentally), but it mostly magnified how much i've grown...

Things that make me feel like an adult:
getting mail (I love junk mail...i tear it open, and instantly throw it away...it gives me a rush)
paying bills...on time (just my cell phone)
doing laundry (only mine)
talking to my brother
taking pills (haha...i can't explain it, but im terrified by my love for taking pills...don't ask)
driving
watching my nephew (he's almost as cute as i was...)
drinking out of a wine glass (i actually made a jack blackout in one...delicious and classy)
trying on my childhood clothes (actually that just makes me feel fat)

what if you could live in a world as shiny and warm and alive as you did when you were five...well, five was a bad year. Let's say six.

I'm Wet and Naked at the Moment

my shower

my shower begins with the removal of my clothes
I give myself a glance, from wild hair to stubby toes
things aren't the same, the mirror makes that clear
Who is this person…how did I get here?

(In my head) "thing's could be worse, I could be talking to myself..."
Oh well, I was never a big fan of my mental health
I shiver...It's time for water
I twist the knob till its hot, then hotter

I put my foot on the wet floor, I'm almost in
but I slip on something sharp and grab the shower curtain
my nephew's toy boat is to blame, I almost shout fuck
then I realize dying naked would definitely suck

I'm off to a bad start with the whole near-death
I shut my eyes and take several deep breaths
my mind wanders the thoughts pour
like wat—some cliché metaphor

I am drowned by ideas form every corner of my brain
The lucky ones stick, others sink down the drain
like lyrics to a song about nude, night running
(what do you like better, “Boogie Nights” or “Nunning”?)
there’s one for a screenplay about hipster teens
who do what they say and say what they mean

and somewhere between conditioning and shampooing
I meditate on my life, I stand there stewing
over essays that needed more time
or regretting the instances I just said, “I’m fine…”

just as I pull a hair from my soapy wash rag
a heart forms in the liquid, I vigorously scrub before it sags
and I smile a smile that doesn’t visit me often
No reservations, just joyful. genuine.

in this moment, suddenly
I couldn’t care less about college, regrets, or acne
the world’s not so dark, life’s not so dour
I’m clean, warm, fresh—thank god for my showers

and people wonder why i spend weeks in the shower...

Guess Why I'm Named Neptune...

Is it because i love Greak mythology (well its Roman)? Or because my favorite planet has the same name? Perhaps the reason is that the ocean is pretty amazing? It could be the fact that blue is a beautiful color? Well, its all those and one slightly bigger reason...Juno.

I'm sure you know the plot by now: quirky teen girl, Juno MacGuff (Ellen Page), has sex with her friend/lover, Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera) and gets knocked up...she decides to give the baby up for adoption. Lets get the negative parts out of the way, the first fifteen minutes can be dizzying. The hipster jargon takes some time to register, i mean this is teen-speak on meth...but hilarious nonetheless (i hate that word by the way, nonetheless, who makes a word out of three existing ones and doesn't abbreviate). And...actually that's about it, literally, nothing else in the film sagged or stuck out.

Now...you must understand, i am doing everything in my power not to gush about Juno because it deserves better...more than i loved it so much and it was really cute (except that it i did and it was). Juno, the character, is written with an indescribable amount of quirk and acted with an abundance of heart and realness...the same can be said about the film. The supporting actors revolving around her are mutually skilled in witty authenticity. Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman as the adopting parents deliver performances, i'm ashamed to admit, sharper than i would have imagined. J.K. Simmons and Allisson Janney, playing Juno's dad and step-mom, are stellar...what would you expect from these skilled veterans. And who can forget Michael Cera. He inhabits this not-really boyfriend, nice guy character so comfortably...its eerie. But Ellen Page as the glowing Juno is head and shoulders, and swelling belly, above the rest. From her hamburger phone to her fashion sense (i love orange stripes coincidentally), she embodies this sixteen year old. Her delivery of the clever zingers is smooth and natural, i mean some of this dialogue is tough. Tough in the sense that its hard not smirking or chortling after every line ("Thundercats are go!" was a favorite) that debuting screenwriter, Diablo Cody (extra credit for the sexy name), hand-crafted...but Page shines in the dramatic moments, even more so if its possible. There's one scene in particular where she breaks down...the camera gets desperately close to her face and her cheek quivers. That tiny tremor is just...beautiful.

So, if you consider yourself a fellow whifer you'll see this movie, because its the kind of movie that hits the spot, more so than hot chocolate when your covered in blankets (which i am at the moment). If you have a funny bone in your body and a heart in your chest you'll...actually even if you're a seriously heartless grouch you will fall in love. Did i mention that the soundtrack is flawless...yeah, Neptune was a good choice.

"Fuck You Mom,"

she shrieked...cursing and violently slamming the car door. My mom and i were in my orthodontist's parking lot, on our way home. The lot had an upper level and a teenage girl was wrestling, loudly, with her mother and the sliding mini-van door...repeatedly, she thrashed. In between guttural grunts, I could fuzzily make out the occasional "go to hell." The girl's mother made several attempts to pry her out of the car, while her sister (i assume) straddling her crutches, was tearing up..."is something wrong...are you ok?" my mom asked, genuinely concerned, but the juxtaposition of the two questions was met with a mimed "no." Was it no, everything alright, or no my daughter's foaming at the mouth and i need anastethia. Well, after the girl heard other humans in proximity she took the fit down a notch...every few seconds she would stab the backseat window with her legs instead. The mom whipped out her cell phone, frantically dialing...we drove away, i mean phone=police, so we figured they'd be safe. I still dont know if she was unstable (there's a doctor's office near my ortho's) or if she was just a raging, hormonal teen...her sister's face was unsettling though, like she'd seen this scene before.

what if people were human mood rings, and their skin erupted in temporary bursts of emotion-tinged hues...i imagine the girls would be a pale shade of cheesecake, like the yellow of egg on your face

It's Not New Year's...

but i thought one more new year's story wouldn't hurt.
The ball is near drop and im watching school of rock, and suddenly, im not...the room goes completely dark. I hate black outs. The tv's flickering on and off, the christmas tree's possessed, and im a little freaked. I hide in the kitchen and check to see if my computer's on (yup, my computer's in the kitchen...fun), its not. Obviously since im in the kitchen i scavenge...no food. I look inside the dimly lit fridge and we have a bunch of liquids. And thus, the birth of a new drink...drumroll...the jack blackout. Yup, came up with that all by myself and if you want to try it, here's the ingredients:

perrier sparkling water
cranberry juice
a few spoonfuls of maraschino cherry juice
half a lime
one maraschino cherry

um...add vodka if youre into that. I made one the next day because it turned out so well. New Year's resolutions? Create a new drink every...lets say month