[mostly repeating myself + rambling on about life in -old-person- that looks very young. And I did my makeup, and brows are a big part of it.]
+++
Youth. Ya tell one pregnancy story for the first time and it all gets to ya. And you’ve never talked about it out loud except for the people you’d want to. And it alls happened 6 days ago, the epiphany. Be Humble. Carry on with the story. At least it’s a story worth sharing
A mini me.
Leggo.
The Bodega Excursion proved fruitful.
Cabin Fever and depressyg-be-wessy moods.
Might as well treat the self. Check the accounts, I can pull it off.
An inauguration to new finances algorithm and paying off debt.
Starts with swirling lots of cinnamon simple syrup with the syrup added into crushed ice ice water.
No rice but horchata coffee exactly if one were to imagine it.
It’s like the ice, cinnamon + sugar make up all the horchata taste without the rice or cream… hm I’ve heard this before 🦻🏼🕶️📝…
Desert hals and I’m escaping what I eerily recalled onto chilly weather.
Humid in this room.
Another lesson in
Never close the window.. the contractor buddies of h-vac lore remind me so.
The same meal I skipped yesterday for Tartare and now I’m realizing the 3 bite appetizer of Elk Tartare is all I got for leftovers now that I ate the bowl.
Of burnt flavors and flavorful bark in my coffee.
Sweating, that low-ball glass is. Indeed.
I prefer to the high one.
And every bite of shredded burnt end rib with the squish of deep caramelized onion relish..my.
It was like the same way one would eat fish sinigang to sift through the bones. Professionals only.
Warmed up with soy sauce. Black pepper on the meat. Sesame oil and chili flake tossed with garlic salt on the edamame.
I never order the hot chili edamame at restaurants and just get the salted if I do and it’s usually someone else bc for like $5 or $6…that’s just vegetables bro..takoyaki fo life. Or pork buns of some sort. Even tempura on a bad day. Another cliche to live. [I cook that at home and actually quite well with homemade mix not the box!!] Eye-balling ice water memories.
Can’t escape the call of seeing and spotting alchemical water supsesional varieties in nature.
And the hands like a laser print engine have the wrists of a acquideaztlerain centrifuge thermomaerater (shelf-stable food fabrication and production, agriculture *talktalk*).
I pick vice.
I forgot to mention I coated those elk shumai wontons in the drippings from the fridge/microwave leftover party bowl extravaganza of the stoneware ramen bowl I use in frequency and photographed.
Dirty microwave re-heat and refire and recook and dainty up in seasoning around.
Like a microwave dinner.
My microwave lunch.
Indeed.
sip. sip.
*breyachhzhchshshhazhhuphhuhslurpjp*
I quit social media.
No more pressure for filters.
Thank God.
I hated fitting in with the younger crowd.
Didn’t give in to filters until 2019 ruined my demise from already wearing makeup everyday to being the “tomboy” that will never wear a dress and scorns makeup.T-th-
Then I was a girly-girl because I used skincare and wear makeup to my multiple jobs out in town.
Showoffs with no bravado and all I have is senetimencheaanes.
Woof.
Someone always familiar around, and never mention we’ve met.
I gotchu bro.
They never do.
Drink it.
No groceries.
No adults.
No parents.
It seems
The Keylatch Kid(zk.)
Always know how to make good coffee.
Wondrous, nuisance-like in the vast variety.
Once you stop buying expensive and just uses spices, old 3-in-1s when there’s no cream or milk.
Syrup like I do. Miller.exquisitewatches of a Pearl.
Delicious.
Of starting back to putting
Tea bags when the coffee grounds are low.
Concentrate, double brew it.
Restaurant touchup.
Lots of ice.
Swirl it.
Dink the glass.
Tamp the grounds.
Salt for bitter.
Sugar of some sort besides sugar for sweet.
Sugar for sweet-water.
Milky looking with the milk
Boyouant like cantaloupe water.
However you spell it.
Musk Melon.
Now that’s a debate.
In food history.
Must accust!
Forth we be off for more excursion.
Into cuter hanging of keys and lanyard and buttons.
I know you took my 74′ album button pin. Pigs for inflatables.
Civic about it, I doubt.
But impressed.
I taught the younger-elder that and now you’re much better at it.
Pins, much more expensive than lighters to keep in collections and out-in-view amongst snipers and pinchers of all sorts.
For the outside enjoyment. And photo blasted
Cleansed water of the heavens.
Like water-falling a cloud’s must. Please tell me you know that term?
Don’t like germs but want you to taste vibes.
What an awkward glug.
Sunny Sunday, indeed.
How will my fit ever look fresh to poppinest death now? O heavy nos indeed.
Saying indeed, a lot I’ve noticed.
[Callous.] [with myself.] (bored now, not sure what life will pertain to following this)
{trying to act like I give a damn worth having cameras in my phone and loving photography. No story to post to; I gots this webpage shitz. Why not share things about myself without giving a recipe? I liked just telling ya about it and what I’m thinking on. That’s how I always talk about food. Not the recipe or instructions lol.}
Zucchini Bread repels everyone, including the people that love it when you patè-away at it for say-a-uh-day..??.
Curb Tunes and Stoop Shooting the Shit with My Inner-Seldom.takethetimetotakecareof.
Whatever part of myself that that part is..
I already got wonky eye sockets from blindness and IEDS and shit like that getting my ass wrecked to win golden-gloves shit like uhhhh that. Yuh. Stoop Kid Timez.
Caught off guard.
My apathy blossoms honest always. I got apathy-face instead of resting bitch face. Crazy.
Remember vaPeNAtiOn? I’ve been a douchebag for about 3 years and I was cool for e-cigs in most recent highschool experience (not going to campus and going online).
Quitting takes time and looks different in many forms huh.
Trimmed my brows today. They’re filled in with-obvious makeup (everything else the same and eyeliner literally, if not it’s not obvious.)
So silly. Thin Layers. Lunchtime pics. Uninspired depressy. Go in the sunshine and green grassy.
I chose red-brick + stoop.
Horned Aviators. Contextual.
In this heat and poured granite.
Tis’ September. They say if you say his name 3 times he appears during Kipori Fest. That’s why
I say it 4x in case it’s slow.
Not capital-q for brook(lynn)ies.
[never get an occasion much to wear them, but comfy as hell.]
The other branding came soothed in the form of hoodie while holiday grocery shopping.
2XL and like a dress now. Lightweight. May she bless-ed.
Brick Walls + Ivy.
If only,
I get gutter-level for a treat.
I’ll peak 📸.
Just noticed the moss underneath.
The last plastic adirondack broke. Doesn’t look broken but wobbly on the back corner.
The Cats’ now by definition.
Lightweight enough.
And the bendywendy pull apart in and out desk 80s decoration beam things o metal chairs.
Did not survive me past 17 sits, individually.
Casey’s Last Ride-by-Kriss Kristofferson is playing rn. [That’s how I’m legally supposed to authenticate it as an editor. That guy. “You get to own everything but-bye.” ‘sounds about right.’ seldom.] Gawd, I’m obsessed when it was in True Detective Season 2. The Conway Twitty demo too on stage of the bar. I got through most of Season 3. Then the I-done-fought-in-that-wars Vietnam PTSD gotta/kinda lingered in me, from a scene that’s one of my nightmares I filmed the scene of and wrote about. I’ll get to the rest eventually. I’m very selective of watching or reading the material I’ve written and some of it is so cozy. I made just for others! And it ended up being perfect for me. Emmy-Award-Winning, Acclaimed, Notable, “”Best Ever!!””, Golden Age of TV; and arguably only “I don’t really get it. That’s too smart for me. I don’t like it.” Amongst everyone I’ve met face to face I don’t want to watch it with. AD.d. up that up imperially and those in close arms get why we like the show. Late night animation. And that’s why, there’s like a Season 4 episode of American Dad that depicts the symptoms known as “I got sniped with Fortunate Son and done fought in them dim dam dardly din done did them wars up in the SouttthhEast o’ Asia and I am Mania to be; I hope there ain’t no alcholi drink before me.” And then you get asked about your service. [present outward facing: 🫥😄(combo it.) [interior monologue: 🚁🚁🚁🌀🌀🌬️🌫️🌊🌤️🐯🐊🐢🐓🦀 *it ain’t meeee…hee…* 🪖] that’s all you, a hat.
If you too; have found yourself in this situation. THE PROPER ANTIDOTE TO HEARING “”‘FORTUNATE SON”‘ IS CASEY’S LAST RIDE.
Witherun2 with that information.
Bialtereral Plane Later..
Curl Pattern and Everything.
Argan Blue-Bleu.
I think of my fascismile chairs. One behind the glass screen and one in front of the glass screen; both seen. And I didn’t deserve that blue wooden adirondack. I still want a wooden one. They last just about forever in the right macrobiome of north carolina backyard.
Oh well.
Chairs. I got two in my room. That’s pretty fortunate in myself. Thrifted, old, original. Well-placed by bitches that know I’m blind and well-sighted by my blind self but very good at shopping and quickly. [walk 29mph-in-stride. look at no one. I don’t even wear my earbuds
anymore. anymore. I miss the dangly-ones. Left pulled out and tucked into my crossbody messenger bag strap. As if I gotta carry textbooks everywhere. Still the same these days. Just Trinkets. Excess mostly, but nice when needed & necessary.]
Connection sucks now.
Breaks are important.
But it’s been better lately, misgivings and attributions.
Better than the shit I get in the mail. Wannabes without a name catching me down bc I got attention on my shins. Woof.
Vampuuurrrrr Kitten.
I can’t help to make that joke. I love to make that joke. I was lovely with a great-personality lonely with 3 dates a week for 8 months out the years for 5 years before I just went back to work, am adjusting and got off contract. How could you not expect me to be a crazy cat lady with corny jokes?
Elote for Smokes. Call it a Wash.
Cancer stares and wears back at you. The Hair is Homegrown and the Follicles are Well-Worked For. Earned. Just
gotta get a lil darker.
They’re brand new! Those follicles. Lame condensations-of-explanations or otherwise to self-validate myself and find a better reason to hyphenate in branches. hyphen hyphen.
If I wear brows for work just about everyday for a good 7 years. Just to go out bc that’s what teenagers on jump street do. And I get stared down, even told to not do pink blush because people remember my makeup style! Recognize me and my doppelganger without. Great skin. Good product. Better know-how. Ultimate Techniques these days. Household in Home-Remedies. There’s always something lingering, let me look at the back of the bottle.
“everything is bubble bath in america for hygiene.” they’re not wrong,
My Arab-compatriates.
But at the same time, lemme twist it for ya. 46 steps from bubble bath to leave-in conditioner for the same formula. Food Scientists Lament. I wish more people knew that.
Emulsify more CaféShakeras and get back to me on et.
Quaint Tune. Stoop Blues. Love Navy.
Better than a Bonsai Tree plant-light. Lemme tell ya.
We retired inside after this.
Hot af and bright today to blow out the rest of the weekend. A topper.
And I forget who I am and fixate on a joke or insult or humoristic-critique from 5 days ago and haven’t left that person and recycle it about every 11 days until I get present enough to understand myself.
Same old same old. I know this about myself, by now.
She became a slosher of galactic floaty cloud paste when I pondered in whether to finish the last of the cups. I leave em
out for beetle and goldbug(s) included. Flies too near my window so they don’t pesker in and finds themselves in-in-inside my room.
Sympathy even for detrivores and self-cleaners. Like a subway tram transitional entry way zamboni cleaner. Righteous in every aspect a good life. Misunderstood. Like when I find myself grossi grossed out and gold uh crawled up my ankle and shin when I was repairing from tearing my left Achilles. The last any left to break. Iconic. Mythological. My life. Just my life. And my insurance does nothing. Oh mail! Why isn’t it an email! And I’ve made most of them emails. They don’t hurt me this way in anxiety. coverage for what. At least I’m a doctor of some sort. Medically trained with enough know-how to avoid pain pills.
Lidocaine Patches + Roll-Ons.
Like angelic-harp in ASMR sounds to me.
Laddiddah laddiddah lidadia
🎶🎶🦀🌅🌀🌊🌬️🫧🫧⚡
WhangzOn.
Articule in Precision for Blind as Hell.
I didn’t really get into makeup until 1986?? (3 Years after bombastic too specific really type of occasions occurred and the lights clicked on from mudded-neons blackout synthesthesia} For studio set designs. Nudes + Taupes and every shade blended and blended by hand for you. Unique and accommodated everything, as much as I could muster. Drugstore to Luxury. (No one likes my shit and here’s the shelf-stable for 30 years apothecary poultice eye cream I’ve made into concealer bc I’m mad sad and keep collecting rich-nutriented dirtedclay from
volcanoes in Africa to mud from HolmesofHomes. And for the homies too.
Sensitive Skin. I got exzcema I got you.
I did it in highschool in the 50s the quick way and 70s the proper-ish way of graduating public school at 14. (1971 by May from the December before. Roof roof on my childhood era huh…) Oh, almost!
But blind people with synesthesia can see traces to outlines if hues of colors whether they’re shaded or not. I always think of foul ed mouthed British chef nightmare rendition show and dude was red-green colorblind and he made fun of shirt choice and insulted saying “are you colorblind??” And he
goes. “yes.”
[this damn thing is type-writering me in jams formatting I swear. Hmm. Sneak, I’m assuming but oesticilaringnon truancy to truth ethics. What to do.
Resume!]
But yeah, red-grey color-blindness vs vs red-green is some heavy vs vs shit in the disability -i talk shit still bc I’m a human despite by disability-by-birth- sentiments. Uncanny clothes. Red + Grey always stunt on pink and grey combos. Like swashbuckling to Napa and Cambridge on first in tuape-brown-grey loafers. (Oh my god, Paranoid by Black
Sabbath
On the 22:00 of the Sabbath is a blessing indeed for this late of September. In funny ways. Duality-It.) but Red-Green goes Navy, grey, black, and white. Fresh to Death. Cumbersome in Woes and Conviction of
Attraction.
Silver of Gold Watch? Leather? Black or Tanned Strap? Marble Alligator Plait. Alright.
Get the fuck away from me forever I’m not okay.
Kryptonites affect everyone in certain ways. I get recognized by glasses. Like they come off, are not built-in or attached. I had two pairs. Now I got me regulars. Feels pestilent to gracious in Being Remembered. A lot of people wear them. Reme
Why do I remember yours?
Likewise in mine. Direction.
Says a lot about long-term investments in style.
of pure-winged evil.
Something French [morrocan.] About It.
Ive had those glasses for 8 years now. Seldom wore them and went with the Gold-rimmed Tortoiseshell Clubmasters that sit in plastic-baggie doom of chronically falling out lense and super-glued screw (shouldn’t have done it. Warranty covered it and could’ve had Ray Ban screws instead of dollar store.) dialects.
I wore those like 5 years primarily and shit out the year after. I’d make these my fall glasses so I wouldn’t get raccoon eyes with my non-transitions. Regulars. And yes I’m lame af for transitions but I’d always get complimented on my shades when I’d walk in from outside to my job and I’d be like “what shades?” To sunnies.
Sunnies at bench-break-moments and cigarettes and vape and coffee galore. Shadey-shadeys Shades on standard. Tf are sunglasses?
“Them there is sun shining on walls dontcha know with them yeller paints.”
Ring of Fire is playing in my phone now. The speaker is disagreeing with me. (they are.) They keep playing the Wall of Voodoo version and she be more stressful than Bela Lugosi is Dead By Bauhaus (I always spell it the other way. Hm) I think Iowa By Slipknot(the track not the album, but on the album) is the trident-compadre of long ass song kinda testing+resting the nerves of humanity in
arts&music,
Johnny would never. Lest us not forget Heroin by The Velvet Underground.
Killpop by Slipknot is playing now. I was 14, almost 15 when it came out. Otherwise to my full-life acknowledging; 58, almost 59. Woof, damn she fine. 269 I keep pulling in angel numbers. Keep One. Says a lot.
Popularity Games and now I’m listening to Roy Harper. folklore is for old folks only [my playlist.]; the soul gotta catch up if it missed the 50s. The 70s wouldn’t let ya rest still listening to it. And
wasn’t famous for 27 years making all that music to release a single track.
Vigs. His Ghost told me to fuck off in stories. It was another dude sure. Appleseeds in my Esophagus for
Moral-Hypotheticals.
I mean I know how to split em if you boil em. 🍳
Wasabi, sometimes. Cans; be blessed. The Church Donation Box Peas.. absolutemeante.
Ya gotta have lived the life to love the sentiment. The blessing made them extra tasty ☺️😄 let alone nutritious!!
[field-ration-flashback. 🫥: dried wasabi peas roasted with fava and chickpeas and pinto and navy and every great northern one could think. Sunbaked in 138° Concrete on Industrial USO Sheet Pans. Oh Eve to On-Tour USO 2004 enein Beirut.
Mixed-Legume Falafel.
They’d called that raw-diet paleo in the near 20 years since next month. Funny how things work like that. MRE Snacks, never go out of fashion. Neither does a cookies n’ cream shake in an
orange jumpsuit
With extra-loaded coffee
creamer. In case you drank your milk at lunch or ran out of went hot. Flies in Concrete Walls. The Worst. That’s why I let em sniff the iced canela
coffee.
I made a metal-straw-punch shake like how they used to at the pharmacy bars. Ever since I made an egg cream I’ve been enjoying the fascination of
drinks.
I made a shakeyier with cookies n’ cream ice cream a matcha powder 3-in-1 with cream/sugar and simple ice water from me photon-rayonator-alchemically3000 water bottle of magical qualities + lore (of many other desert tombs.) delicious.
Even now as I rejoice in brand new coffee maker I’ve been curing with good stuff too. Different brews ways. Cleaner to drop some already brewed coffee and top it with ice water. Minerals exfoliate that plastic surface over time, good dialect.
The good buildup.
I try to keep iced-only in my metal shaker but damn the last pot fell off for safety after like an hour. Not enough for ol’ Sammo and not enough to touch that button again. Rebrewing and pot-checking me in steam. All that’s over now. It was a good 10 years and you got me through 7 pots, a mental breakdown, and 5 seasons of Dexter in Two Days when I was 13 and not okay. Spare Change with the 10 Years.
Oh Thanksgiving Weekend where they give you two days for the school week and if you’re a junkie addict teenager and on jump street and this is your like 17th time of being 13 and 4th long-vision of over 7 years assigned to a family (a family in your family (my adopted family bc of galactic stardust shit, again. (Season 3, Check the Decks in Refer-rence. Vinshwidilators. 😉🤹🏻♀️📯🪠)).. Stress Builds. Cancsies and PTSD
Builds. Cancsies and PTSD
Formatting Repeater, alright. I’ll get to it.
Sike!
It was not quite nitey-nite time.
It requires turning over 3 inches in either direction only to be held down by man many feet, as in multiple, taller than me.
As a Whodunnittini, I’m insulted to bewildered as I’ve beaten many a straight jacket and leather belt bed straps for conjecture of my more wiley escapades and assigned tasks as Dirtbag Extraoirdinaire Hired
Contractor Buddy™™
🗞️🕴🏻🗣️🤝🏼🫂🦻🏼🌬️🥷🏻📰
(😮💨🫥😞 what did ya say bud? 🪟🛋️⌚⏰🛎️🚬👓do you have a reservation? 🍽️ indeed, ;let’s sit at the bar and share an appetizer then. 😄 you read my mind. ☺️ (Interior: 🤦🏻♀️🤡🫨🤥 I don’t want people to see me but I’m hungry af.))
One Thing I appreciate about my ex-husband (which isn’t that guy I just referenced for Contractor Buddies) (u 2 legit to QUIT homie g ily 🫶🏼 patrechvenchzhxych)
Is when you get married in the 70s and ur spies y actors n shit. You get stopped a lot. He said we lived in NC, I said I was from New York then so did he or like Nebraska. Cornhushers shucking at shucks. He was a cheat. I always saw his girls. Now we’re polyamorous basically (which is hard as a traditional serial-monogamist joke-at-relationships hopeless romantic 🤞🏼🤞🏼 nihilistic apathetic sociopath with single-episode chronic clinical depression. But love has it Woes and wowzers. I know some dynamite mens. Moving on.)
If we got stopped to talk or “pLease!! For Christ’s sake have dinner with us!!” And we just ate like 3lbs of food but probably just got back from overseas in now declassified-super shadowy humanitarian missions at war and On-Tour, now we gotta go film a show or sequel or episode or guest appearance. Girl in a Chopper + Napalm. Switch the tags on my tank top and I’ll know it isn’t the same knots. Why? They always fall apart. Like marriages, but not like my love for him when I think about “Well, I mean. It is raining? Why not, dear?” Suave and shit piece of shit. (Sitting behind me waiting for the answer with fingers on his face. Your *ing me rn. That’s what you’re doing. Every intelligent ex of mine no matter where they’ve been. ‘Im feeling peck-ish.’ guffaw and all.) First Round always a salad or French Onion. We’re House-Soup people indeed. (And you will not fuck my Lobster Bisque. Rowdy Men these Chefs grew up to be ; before ma-turity.)
2 entrees. Then we get stopped. Boom. Appetizers we perused and agreed on in case it were (it’s going to happen. dear. *unsatisfied* *blinkblink*) going to happen. Black Tie Tuxedo Slice for me and Apple Pie a la Mode if they ask if we’re still married before we sit down and order. Lemon Water or Long Island Iced Tea? Well now they’ll just know won’t they when I say no alcohol. And I really was pregnant. 5 years of that dinner shit and pregnancy bowl of croutons (which was super sweet and I sing a kabbalah-prayer in my mind every time I eat croutons or see them or think of them or make them god-forbid like I did recently only to smush like he likes for baked pasta microwave pasta leftovers.) for my hormonal disasters (he’d swing em’ for me. (he just loved me and asked.)) and a super awkward baby shower somewhere in the mix of being legally separated like 13 years and together a day before 6 and divorced finalized a day before 19. Everything Stings when you play my numbers.
And we were legally separated for a year and a half so separated for a year and three-quarters before that for filing in the state. Took awhile didn’t it. Terrible Court Battles. Two Lawyers. One an M.D. n Army. Then the Female Marine Doctors without orders.
I had been many versions of myself but I always thought I was in the papers too much. Make the own detectives on my divorce confused on my acting and professional personas to espionage personas to Who is Ash? Really at the end of the
day?
Beats me, kid.
And he got full-custody before I delivered, 8 months in and I had a c-section the next day. On New Years.
Stresses, indeed.
And it was the same like every other time. I didn’t get to hold them or name them.
Now we’re sitting here together.
Time moves slow, indeed.
15+ years before the divorce would be finalized and 23 years later after.
There’s always something after with the right people you think are wrong for you.
Wounds + All.
petrichor - archive 