i'm so hard.

Pics from Drink & Draw

I took some pics from tuesday night of some of the sketches. there were about 45-50 artists there and some of them were amazing. i couldnt get pics of all the ones i wanted, but here are some to give you an idea of how it went.

it has been a long, long time

since we last spoke. we haven't communicated in almost half a year. i was clearing out my inbox the other day and found some old emails from you. i never would have thought, the first time i read those words, that one day you'd just be an absence, a hole in my life. now that you've erased our entire, five year history of honesty and passion and connection, of daily communication, of being extensions of each other (your words. you said that in one of these emails) i wonder if you even notice that i'm not there any more.
i told you once that i feel you in my head like you're a part of my thought process, and you responded by saying "exactly. and we'll always be a part of each other. no matter what happens, i feel closer to you than i ever had to anyone." you told me your love for me is a given, that you can't even explain it because it feels so natural you don't question and don't see how anyone could.
so do you notice that i'm gone? do you still love me? you said "forever." you said "no matter what." you said even if we haven't seen each other for years and are in relationships with other people, you'll never feel as close to anyone as you do to me and that feeling will never change.  so now that it's been months without a word from you, i wonder if you meant all those things, if you love me despite the silence between us, if you think i'm better off without having you in my life and you're trying to do right by me.
or.
maybe.
probably.
you were lying. every word of every one of these emails, every word you ever said to me, whispered to me, mouthed to me from across the bar, every touch, every gentle kiss, was a lie. the only thing you ever did to me honestly was fuck me like you hated me.

the only thing that gets you off is to see me in pain but i think i love you - why didn't you tell me you were a demon from hell???
i dedicate this video to you.
and, btw, shut the fuck up about tommy lee. he is fucking beautiful in this video.
fuck you.
i can't believe the years of my life you wasted. you ruined my heart, and i will never love again. that's the mark you left on my life - a giant scar right where the best years of my life should be.

get this guys

so my dad has witnessed my flailing around in the real world, and, having come of age in an era when a job should be more than a job, a career should be fulfilling, an income should be not just a means of feeding and sheltering oneself but a source of identity and meaning, he believes that i need to identify my dream and pursue it until it validates me with a supportive income.  now, being a person of the world and member of society, i know that this expectation of a job that provides meaning and fulfillment is hopeless. the world simply does not work that way any longer. i know this, because i read the news - the actual news, not that shit those waxy faced people seem to vomit up on television.

(this article particularly)

so i know that it's impossible to make money doing what you love. it's a privilege we simply don't have. i wish i'd turned 23 about fifteen years ago when there were like, careers, and people could pay for luxury and appreciated the arts, and felt that quality was worth money. i wish that was the case, but it isn't. this is why i stripped. thats an ideal job. i worked for about 16 hours a week and made at least two grand every week - leaving me plenty of time to spend all of that money doing whatever shit gave me meaning. i could decide on a new fulfilling, meaningful thing to do every week! now that was fantastic.
unfortunately, "stripper" in ohio just means "prostitute," so that's not really an option now.

luckily, my dad has decided to rescue me - a luxury every girl knows she will never outgrow. we met for lunch last night and he pitched me an idea. he will pay me two grand a month to write every day. i told him once that i read an author (i don't remember who) who said that anyone can write well, but first he has to write about a thousand pages of completely horrible, dreadful, worthless drivel and most people read their first 500 pages, realize it's bullshit, and decide they are not writers. however, by the time any person writes his thousand and first page, if he's not completely dumb, will have learned something and produce at least one perfectly beautiful sentence. and then that person will be a writer.

so i'm now trying to get through the next 700 pages of terrible writing. many of them will appear here, and i apologize for that. ill try to label them so you won't have to sift through my shit. but i will be paid for producing them, so go ahead and try to ponder the reality of my day-to-day life.

i am something to do,

at least according to time out new york.
i think this should've been the whole article,

but alas, it goes on. if you care to read the rest, http://newyork.timeout.com/things-to-do/2459461/east-village.

oh, and Girl-Writer, that's (L-R) Chantilly Lace, Kelly Hurt, Machine Sex, AND Alex M-A-G-N-E-T-I-C.

Fun w Feathers!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Drink & Draw

Toledo's First!!
Artists and friends of the Toledo area! One week from today you have the opportunity to participate in one of our city's coolest cultural events - the Art Supply Depo's monthly Drink & Draw!
From 7-10p, a week from today, at 29 S St. Clair Street, you're welcome to bring your favorite drinks and draw a live model - me!
Come participate in this celebration of local art!! Text me with any questions and I very much hope to see you there!!
Xoxo!