posted on Sunday, Jan. 07, 2007 @ 05:33
"i touch myself," the divinyls
"jack-ass," beck
"zen brain," nada surf
i've somehow lost my ability to be creative. for a long time i always carried around construction paper, magazine cutouts, and a glue stick. i used to spend as much money on glue sticks as, i dunno, toilet paper or something. i was always making something, or improving something. once i made this little diorama out of construction paper and cutouts, complete with tiny tiny custom vase and tiny tiny daisies. my regulars at pg3 completely loved it, and rpg boy (with whom i always discussed video games and who joined the military a semester before graduating) was amazed with the metal gear conversion job on my travel coffee cup.
i was looking through old journal entries, and check this out from 10/08/03:
as the re-run of the 9 o'clock news came to an end at 2:00 a.m., cat called. then jennifer got home. she'd just gotten back from kerbey lane, but i convinced her to go back with cat and me. she said my mohawk boy was working, so i got excited since i can't recall the last time i saw him.
his mohawk was flaccid beneath a bandana, but he was in his usual camo shorts, big army boots and glasses. i also saw mine and cat's waiter from last weekend, who shaves his head and has two little "horns" of red hair and whose name, i learned, is matt. last week i made his face out of construction paper and left it with the tip. cat said matt didn't charge for his drink because i asked what color matt's eyes are. anyway, after he brought us our drinks, he said to me, "thanks for that construction paper me. i really liked it."
as i added sweet 'n low to my tea, i smiled and said "thanks" as friendly as i could and was grateful i didn't feel the burning in my cheeks until he walked away. he was really nice, though, and didn't charge us for any of the drinks. all i had for him this time was a pack of orange pez, and i took a chocolate-covered pretzel and chocolate-covered oreo from jennifer to give him. he brought us a big bag of chips even though i didn't ask for them. one day, we'll have babies.
why don't i do this anymore? once i read this, i completely remembered it. i can see the little construction paper head in my mind, and which table i sat at while carefully designing it. i had a slight impact on that guy's life, at least for a week since he remembered me. and this was before my lip ring; i don't think i stood out much before when i was less shiny.
i was going through my desk before the holiday break and found several coloring books and my coloring box. it had my box of 64 colors, two glue sticks, paper cutouts to form a three-dimensional domo-kun, colored pencils, and other random cutouts. oh, and a quarter. i completely forgot it was there. honestly, i forgot it existed. i can't even begin to tell you where my manila folder full of magazine cutouts is. cutting up magazines used to be one of my favorite things to do. i regularly checked the laundry room at my last apartment complex to see if any new used magazines had showed up.
i go through strange obsessive phases. i have this awesome pair of old man jeans that have buttons sewn halfway up the leg. and not just blah buttons, cool ones like ducks and flowers and every shape and color you can imagine. but halfway up, i got bored and quit. consequently, i have a billion buttons in my sewing box.
whenever i'm interested in something, it's full-on with a lot of passion. like "six feet under," "samurai champloo," the zelda game windwaker (which, come to think of it, i never finished). i always begin things and never finish them, unless it's visual. i can never finish a book, a game, or a sewing project, but i'll always watch more and more episodes of "sex and the city" until five in the morning. it's not even that good; i'm just obsessed. and there's the john corbett factor...
anyhoo, it's fucking six in the morning. my ass needs to go to sleep.
"ahoy! and other nautical expressions!"
<3, chels
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