i can't remember how i got so alone.

one by one, the days pass and blur together.  the trainwreck that is my life mirroring my tragic surroundings.

and yet i'm so fucking happy.  it could be the weed.  but i'm happy.

i love not having to wear layers. i love just sitting on the front stoop of my los angeles home, drinking beer and smoking weed with friends.  i love wearing big sunglasses all day and drinking ungodly amounts of smoothies.

i have no clean clothes because i'd sooner dream than do my laundry. i have no clean dishes, but it's fine. i don't tend to eat. thinner. my bruises are slimming.

smile.

this can't last forever.

i'm psychotropic. 

and i don't give a damn.

i'm conflicted.  about a lot of stuff.  and i wish it wasn't that way. i can't find the words to describe how aweful it feels to grief for a third time over loosing a baby.   and contrary to what many people think, i did go into labor.  i delivered my baby.  and i held her in my arms for a few minutes before she died.  i'm trying hard, at every instant, to overcome the many phases of denial, but it all still hurts immensly.  i constantly find myself crying in disbelief.  yerning to hold her.  and it's going to take more than band-aids to heal and cope with these feelings.     

to my friends, family and everyone else who has kept me in their thoughts and prayers.. thanks for being here and giving me the good vibes.

the oakland raiders lost (30/20) to the new england patriots. 

fuck fuck fuck fuck! 

translation: "fuck, i just lost another $200 bet."  the $200 went towards a "good" cause though.  beer.  lots and lots of beer.  heineken, corona, dos xx, and budweiser.  then again, it's almost two-thirty/a.m. and there's ten drunk scandalous assholes out in the pool area.  i figured at least one of them was gonna want to piss in the pool.  and yes.  as the thought came to my mind, i turned around to see a guy pissing in the pool in all directions.  grrr.

earlier (yesterday), when i went to buy the beer, something really funny and at the same time really awkward happened to me.  a man, who on a regular basis i had seen at the strip club i worked at, approached me as i was loading the beer into the cart.  we recognized each other almost immediately.  we started talking and next thing you know he tells me i'm the dominatrix of his dreams!  more specifically, he wanted me to dominate and degrade his lame ass to high heaven.  apparently, he didn't mind my more than obvious eight month pregnant belly.  he said he was sixty years old, and the fact that i'm third of his age really turned him on.  lol.  weirdo? pervert?  i politely went along with his bizarre questions and babbling of his obsession. i honestly did not have much to contribute, but he was fine with filling in the blanks himself.

after twenty minutes and as i was ready to walk away, my step-mom walks up behind me.  we exchanged a few words and then being the good step-daughter that i am, i gave her a hug goodbye.  the creepy bondage man was still there, and after my step-mom left he said, "so i see you are into being dominated by older women.  i bet you love how she spanks your ass till it's hot and rosey".

eewwwwwwww!

i informed him that she was my step-mom, which didn't really have the effect one would hope. you know, him backing off the subject.  but no, he just didn't get it. this women being my step-mom further inflamed his desires, it brought in a whole new kinky element.  INCEST BONDAGE!

i finally told him it wasn't my personal kink and made faces at him and he got the point and left. looking dejected, i imagined he was probably gonna go home and wank like crazy to the thought of my step-mother sticking cucumbers up my ass while i spit on his face and stood on his balls.

what a queer fellow.

i have ten minutes to update before i leave to los angeles.

yesterday someone invited me to attend a two day religious retreat this upcoming weekend.  my good god knows i don't mean to put him down, but i fuckin hate retreats.  when i was sixteen years old, my mom dragged me to a retreat as punishment for stealing her check card and ditching school three weeks in a row to go to cabos san lucas.  she could've just taken away my allowence or even my car, but no.  being the bitch that she was (is), she dragged me to a retreat, and just to make sure i didn't leave, she asked a nun to look after me.  so yeah, it all comes down to a repressed religious childhood or something like that. but all thanx to the fuckin nuns at catholic schools.

also last night, yuka and i watched dave chappelle's stand-up, live at the fillmore in san francisco on dvd. it was all well and good, pretty damn funny, until the very end when he started defending r. kelly and made a crack about strippers having gonorrhea. FUCK THAT!

intelligent, thoughtful, hard working, women can become strippers. i was one. and i wasn't dancing because i needed money for crack or an std treatment. i was dancing because i liked it. i liked working with women who had good relationships with their sexuality.  ok, yeah, the money was real good too.  =P

anyways, big ones for miss flaii and mr. ovo.
mwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!  =*