my uncle died on christmas eve morning. diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in May of this year, the cancer rapidly spread, unphased by any treatments he was receiving.
my mother kept telling me to call him over the past few months and i never did. i thought there was more time. on december 22nd, my mother called me and told me that uncle paul was going to hospice on christmas eve, and that i should consider coming to see him, or call him. what do you say to someone that is going to die?
i began writing him a letter, to soothe my mind and to tell him all the things i wanted to tell him.

he died before he could even go to hospice.
my dad called me as he was driving my uncle's car back to their house.
i never got to tell him anything at all. not goodbye or i love you. not thank you for being the most wonderful uncle ive had. not even sorry that we grew distant as you and aunt eileen retired to florida.

rest in peace, john paul thompson.

i wonder:
is 11:30 am too early to eat homemade guacamole?
what should i buy with the Christmas money my dad gave me?

YIPPIE!

elementary forms of religious life
the hollow men
find my commodity; find my capital; find this moby dick

the weather has taken a turn for the worst; rattling window is driving us nuts.
keeping the warm things in bed: blankets and cat pelts and down pillows.
we took the bed to spain in search of fall leaves that never touch the ground
and dust to replace the raindrops.

:D

sound travels down our street and it's eerily resonant on the background of mid-afternoon silence.
for two years i have been a'travellin and it's time to wash my socks.
everyone is yelling all of the time; this won't be an issue when we lock the warmth inside.

this has been the best summer of my entire life and i goddamned love every single one of my friends and jesus h. christ i cant believe it's over. WTFZ.

we are all mad men!

someone should tell them to have babies immediately.
also please i would like a boyfriend like him.

dear five-inch-long-bright-pink-fake-fingernail-cashier at Sbarro (what the fuck was i thinking) today:
when you hand people back their cash, don't place the bills and change on the napkins and then hand them to people. do you know where that money has been? why dont i just wipe my face with the fucking ten you just handed me? do me a favor and come down to euphoria...i could work miracles with those god-awful hooker hands of yours. have you ever seen a urinal cake? i'm slightly embarrassed to say that i have but not as embarrassed as you should be considering your fingernails are the same color.

cheese and pepperoni,
natalie

i just have a few things to say about WALL*E. 1) OH. MY. GOD!!!!!!!! 2) HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!1!! 3) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHF:ADLISJG:DGH:DLHG:EAGHE:O!!!!!!!

when i'm 54, like my mother before me at this exact moment...where will you all be in my life? thinking thoughts: this time in my life will one day end/this time in my life is doing nothing but ending = deepest sadness. there is nothing that makes me feel more like me like everyone i know.

my old bedroom is breezy (with the aid of a brand new super fan) and my parents keep my face cool with bags of peas and blueberries. my dad looks adorable with his new haircut. vicodin helps the just-punched-in-the-nose-five-times-while-doing-flips-underwater feeling. i rest falsely: i still hear everything that is going on around me but somehow still have vivid dreams. i walked back to my apartment (around the block) to look at my beautiful bouquet of flowers and feed my cats and back again, only to realize that the antibiotics gave me a sunburn. cruel. what a cruel, silly joke to play. that, and my return key STILL does not work: i am forced into paragraph hell.

planes are flying in circles, probably because thats the shape of the earth, probably because six hours ahead is the future! come back come back come back! even my BLOG is lonely!

things broken on my computer are the return key, the letter i (i have to copy and paste it) and both shift keys. no more exclamation points or ichat.

there are three types of mouthwashes in my bathroom
there are three types of dishsoaps on the sink
there are three two types of cats in the living room
there are four golden girls still living today
there are one too many minutes spent alone always, i say
there is one porch to sit on
there are two chairs on the porch

goodbye, asshole

Ol' blue bastard! You were a curse from the beginning, and there was never a day that passed that I didn't think about how much I loathed you.
Oh, sure. You made it ALL THE WAY to Brooklyn and back; big whoop! All I can remember are those right hand turns that you so lovingly stalled out on, without any regard for my safety: entrance ramps to the 33, the tallest one-lane stretch of the Scajaquada, or just out-and-about in dangerous neighborhoods. To think I put my one and only Kit Bowman sticker on your bumper, you filthy beast. You horror! Rot in the depths of junkyard piles with the rest of your cursed comrades.

best comic strip ever made.
wondermark.com

<3

summer street

jesus christ i was so happy today while driving on the skyway with a different, more reliable vehicle even with the knowledge that i could, potentially, fly right off the edge of that skyway and DIE. but i was not even SCARED of that thought as much as i am about what people say about me behind my back, or who at the credit card company laughs the hardest when they see my credit score, or what's coming in the mail from some long-lost roommate, or if i have pink eye, or WHAT THE FUCK GAS IS FOUR DOLLARS A GALLON AND I NEED ELEVEN GALLONS THAT IS ONE QUARTER OF MY CURRENT PAYCHECK, or you or her or him or them.

ok thank you, world. the chill left and now it's nothing but sweat and sunshine and prospective tans (who am i kidding...i do not tan).
i would like a bicycle. why did you throw out my bike? i called you and called you and myspace messaged you and you still threw out my bike. it even had that little hamburger bell and it was a SCHWINN, a natalie-green schwinn! you threw it away and now i have no bike, and even if i DO live in lovejoy, i would still throughly enjoy riding it all over downtown with friends...that way, i wouldnt have to listen to my muffler scar my eardrums or subject people to the strange things growing on the floor of my car.

(hey everyone! i have nasal polyps http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasal_polyps and a deviated septum http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deviated_septum !!!!!!

surgery is inevitable, so i guess i didn't really need my bike right away. it's just that i never got over it; the throwing away of the (my) bike.

oh

when will this goddamned CHILL leave already?
i've been getting hundreds that i don't really expect and it's complicated because i'm not entirely sure i deserve them but who am i to question the highly-educated educators?
i suppose i DO have nice hands; thank you
the rest of you have a choice of seeking absolution or risking never holding a place again.

my thoughts on Episode 9 of Season 4 of the Office

I REVOKE ALL STATEMENTS I MADE CONCERNING EPISODE NINE OF THE FOURTH SEASON OF THE OFFICE UPON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION CONSIDERING IT WAS A REALLY GOOD EPISODE CHOCK FULL OF WELL DONE EVIL LOOKS AND PAINFUL SITUATIONS.

if people heard the things i say to my cats...

your past is just parts of your live that you will never, ever get back.
what if, you are absolutely certain, after arduous internal battles, that what once was actually was perfect?
you cannot remember being unhappy, at least not beyond the superficial.

what then? or now, should i say?

mystery dancing

around age 14, nearing my last legs of dance class (no pun intended)
i was in a tap dance, of which i have no memory.
there is a photo, and in said photo, i am wearing a one-piece, short sleeve/shorts thing, with an empire waistline that was red on top and black below. the black part had red piping down the center and around the leg of the shorts. there were little black gloves with red lace, and a bowler hat with red ribbon.

im smiling in this photo, balancing on one leg. right foot touching my left knee. perfect dance posture as im holding the rim of my bowler hat with my right hand. smiling. i have no idea what this dance was. i dont remember ever performing in this costume, or what song went along with it.

i really believe this picture is fake. nobody else around me remembers this dance. not even donna scott herself.

ne mosquitos pas

young woman, praise the suffering.
toilet brush and ice bucket.
where are you now? how long is your hair?

young man, praise the suffering.
any drunks "love yous" and "fuck yous"
theres a couch in the back of my work you can sleep on.

blessed be foolishness
blessed be contradictions
blessed be i dont even know when i'm jokin or not anymore.

blessed be doubt,
blessed be we amatures,
blessed be we're always leavin.

fucking strangers feels better; feels better fucking strangers.
big gay mister t. knock his fuckin teeth out with a telephone.

-joan of ark

i'm going to eat you, little city.
tasty little buildings; iced and glistening.


i'm going to eat you up because there is nothing else for me to do with you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS LIGHTS UP MY HEART!

i lost my head and you all laughed at me.

all around us things are falling apart and getting lost.

people just decided to lay in their beds, watching season after season of dvd tv as the world tilts slightly off its axis to freeze things over and muddle the grass and ruin our shoes.
nobody comes to visit me, and to be perfectly honest, i dont know if i want them to.
there was a time when this house was full and i was constantly running.
dont call me if you're not going to listen.
i am a plate of leftovers...didn't quite make it to the table the first time. my table is covered in feathers and unopened bills anyway.

dictionary

i have forgotten my dictionary.
i've forgotten whether: it was in my possetion at the time of dissappearance; if it was French/English or Miriam-Webster; how thin the pages were;if it told me the meanings of anything, everything.
I've forgotten how to read; what the alphabet means; the arrested fluidity of the ink; the color black; the space the dictionary occupied and the space that it did not (most importantly: the space it did not.)

since jena and i are surfin the dubdubdub for handsome men...

CASEY AFFLECK IN A TINY TUB!

xxoxoxo.

PISS

People of Dancefloors all over Buffalo:

Every morning after dancing, I notice something. FOOT BRUISES. Who out there is stomping their stilettos into my tender, pale, fragile foot top? Why should I be concerned about the delicate condition of the slender bones of my feet just because everyone rages out so hard? I know placing a blame is unfair, as I have, in my day, taken down people like a bowling ball on dancefloors. These bruises are placed upon the foot exactly where the nails went through Jesus. Now, maybe it's no fault of the heel-wearing ladies of la luna. Maybe I'm experiencing stigmata. Holy shit. Is that it? Is that what this is?!

Love and squalor,
Natalie

upon returning to her sister's side, education and boredom aplenty,
alice began to miss tea parties, the walrus and the carpenter, and even hedgehog/flamingo croquet.

was i ecstatic or dismal?
you decide.

OBTUSE OBTUSE OBTUSE OBTUSE.
bank accounts at age 30.
ACUTE ACUTE ACUTE ACUTE.
city:opportunity: punctuality: decadence.

too puddly for picnics and
too panicked for satisfaction.
i am peeling my finger tips down to the bone, i SWEAR; it's horrible and disgusting: i realize what I come from but you see I'm trying to CHANGE it without much success.
you gain the majority of your bad habits in the adolescent years.

I didn't drink coffee in high school = I didn't drink coffee in California.

hypothetically:
would it be all that bad,in this misery-freeze
if we just cuddled? in blankets. twist arms and legs.
hypothetically; hypothermically?

celebrity crush information post.

would you look at that?
xoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxo

l;k

i felt wonderful today! everything made me happy!

i cannot like you

i should leave in a blizzard!
snow blasts are silent behind wipers
you wouldn't notice.
i don't care.

i'd like to take some time to discuss what i think about the final contestants on project runway.

christian
HE IS NUMBER ONE ALLTIME BEST. he knows what kind of attitude gets you attention on reality tv. also, he may make blazers with the same type of sleeve, but they are LOVELY. he's adorable. i want to meet the person that gave him his haircut. he's going to win.

chris
he is fat and talented. i like that they brought him back, because he always has something cute to say, and he reminds me of a dude i used to work with at the gap. that makes me wonder if chris has the same fat-guy foot disease that the guy i knew had. i loved the little naps he's taken over these past 11 weeks.

jillian
BOR-RING. shes so dull! i forget that she's even there until someone makes fun of her. that's either really unfortunate editing, or she just happens to be one of those passive-aggressive girls i want to smack in the face.

romi
whatever, asshole. you already own a store in LA AND you've dressed jessica alba. i don't think you're trying hard enough OR listening to anything anyone is saying. bleh.

rasputin was a creature of infinite wonder and a life of irony.
born a middle child; raised an only child because of two deaths at the river.
he identified thieves!
he went to the monestary as a penance for theft.

oh, he was holy and he was hypnotizing and he was healing and he was heard of.
healing Tsarevich Alexei's bloody little body.
what a miracle! they said! get him in the government!

one day a big war came, and his time had come.
they laced his cakes with cyanide; he did not die!
they shot him in the back; he did not die!
they beat him mercilessly; he did not die!
they shot him four more times; he did not die!
they threw him in the icy river; he did die.

of nothing else but drowning.

there were claw marks on the ice!

there's a lot of love, but not the kind i need
you ever made a'soups out of pumpkin seeds?
there's a lot of skin and flesh i'd never should have seen
there's a lot of half-ways in between

there's a lot of stains i think i wish i'd done
there's a lot of leaves my true love gave to me

there is nothing in my brain

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
000000000000000000000000000000
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hello. meet lennard schuurmans.
pleased to meet you, lennard.

another thing about my dad:

here i am sitting in my parents house. my mom is petting the cat on her lap while i wait for the cake to cool off.
my dad is playing internet slot machines on the computer in the hallway, yelling:

"BONUS! BONUS! BONUS! YEAH! BONUS COME ON!"
and then.
and THEN!

"B-O-N-N-I-S BONUS!!!!!!!!!"

hahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahhahaha
hahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha

-david shrigley

stop looking around instead of into.
it hurts my feelings. my armpits started sweating.
everything in the middle fell down to my feet.

i bought books upon books today.
or maybe just two.
one of which is The Beautiful and the Damned.

social statistics:
brings the somber realization that we are all just numbers to everyone else.
a neat little column for all your quirks and eccentricities.

(poor people are labeled "crazy" and the rich are labeled "eccentric" and the drunks are labeled "bums" and we are labeled "young")

there is no direct correlation between long island accents and native americans.
i've googled and yahoo'd and scoured all corners and ledges of the internet for charts and graphs.

large restaurant. jokes about purchasing weapons (ninja stars, battle ax, swords, bazooka guns). all in the long island accents they used to do daily. i forgot about those times in the kitchen with the orange floor, orange dog, and boys making accents. anyway.

"DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO TALK THAT LOUD WHEN THERES A NATIVE AMERICAN SITTING RIGHT OVER HERE?!"

from across the entire restaurant.
bobby got pissed.
bobby wanted to kill her.
did kit mention a tomahawk?



i ate a milkshake with a spoon and a hotdog topped with stink.

jack.

someone told me that they feel equal parts happy, sad, and crazy.
it is equal parts that simple and equal parts way more complicated.
i am well rounded and in a thousand crazy, chaotic pieces!
i am in love with myself.

(and jack nicholson.)

i've been in and out of sleep for the past two days.
feverish, sweaty, and tossing in a bed that isn't mine.
everything is dark, so i never know the time.
(not to mention the power went out, and we never reset the clocks.)

while drifting, i heard craig, out in the hallway, talking vehemently about something.
it reminded me of when i was young and sick, in the bedroom off the kitchen. my mother would watch wheel of fortune and talk to her sister. it was a comfort.
every now and then a cool hand would touch my forehead and bring me some water.
it was a comfort.