Fluid Pudding

43 monkeys escaped from a research facility in South Carolina. They are all female, and they all weigh 6-7 pounds. They’re described as bold, extremely curious, and highly adaptable to coexisting with humans. The police are telling nearby residents to lock their doors and windows, but if I lived in South Carolina, my doors and windows would be wide open and I’d be standing in the front yard juggling apples—which, according to the specialists, is the monkeys’ favorite food. (You’ve probably stopped reading at this point so you can stare up and to the right and wonder if I can really juggle. Wonder no more, because: I can! The only problem with juggling is that I tend to toss objects a little too far in front of me, so I end up juggling and running at the same time. The only problem with running is that my legs tend to break when I do it. (The last time I ran, I suffered a stress fracture in my heel and three in my tibia. (“Oh, tibia stress fracture!” is almost as good as “I just ate Mediterranean food and now I falafel!”) So, juggling? Yes. But my bird bones will keep me from proving it to you.))

I love this so much: Fugitive monkeys. Long may they run.

This morning I met a friend for potatoes and toast, and it was exactly what I needed.

It is impossible to be unhappy after meeting a friend for potatoes and toast.
Try it.

I’ve spent the evening searching for joys to distract myself from the election. The following two screenshots from a few years back make me insanely happy, because I like to think that I have a neighbor who would like to speak to some chickens, and maybe to a dog who has seizures.

Another joy? The pasta salad I made for dinner.

National Fountain Pen Day was on November 1, and I scored a great deal on a Monteverde Ritma. It arrived today, and it’s beautifully simple and clean.

This is one of my very favorite photos. Harper and Meredith went to Lollapalooza separately, but met up on the final night for the Zeds Dead show. I love that they’re so close. May they never need urgent medical care that their doctors delay or deny due to fear of prosecution.

Today I bought some cleaning supplies, ate a bag of gas station pickles, drove 100 miles, and let myself into an empty apartment where I wiped down a toilet and some sinks (and a bathtub) before vacuuming and sweeping and wet-jetting the floors (and dusting baseboards). I then took Meredith and her very favorite person out for lunch before driving home in stupid heavy rain.

And I did all of this while dressed like Kurt Cobain.

Because I’ve been mostly absent from Fluid Pudding for the past couple of years, there are so many things I’ve neglected to share with you. None of these things are particularly significant or soul-stirring, so maybe it’s best to just squirt out a few photos and let you create connections in places where no connections exist. (The word squirt in the previous sentence didn’t really work. I was trying for some alliteration but then it got creepy. Let’s leave it in.)

Oh! Hey! What? WHAT?! Someone with a hypodermic sat in my car and injected red stuff into their leg and I let it happen because: Things Are Different Now.

(My favorite part of the Olympics was pretending the divers were naked when their names popped up. (I guess when you take a photo of the television screen, things get out of hand and hands get out of things.))

I didn’t buy these jeans.

But I bought this shirt.

And this shirt.

And this shirt.

And this shirt.

And this shirt.

And like I said: Things Are Different Now!

(Things really aren’t so different.)

We carried things down the stairs. We carried things up the stairs.

Meredith now has a fireplace with a lovely front cover, which is the perfect way to begin a new chapter.

The building’s art made me feel a little uncomfortable.

The restaurant’s bathroom door made me feel very uncomfortable. (It’s clearly a directive so I did what I was told, but I’m not sure why I needed to be fully naked just to wash my hands before dinner. The men’s bathroom door said UNZIP, which would have been so much easier. When the sun rises, it rises for everyone!)

The tempura avocado taco made up for everything and more, meaning the next seven times I’m starting to feel uncomfortable, tempura avocado memories will step in and suddenly the discomfort will become a delicious warm green crunchy thing.

NaBloPoMo?
Don’t mind if I do! (That’s a directive, and you are my implied subject.)

Below the line is the final installment of my alphabetical journal.
Installment #1 (February 16, 1990 – March 28, 1990) is here.
Installment #2 (April 4, 1990 – August 9, 1990) is here.

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August 16, 1990 – March 17, 1991
After everybody showered, we went to a restaurant called Hooters where we had chicken wings. After Rally Night we walked to 210. Afterwards, we took him home and the rest of us went out to the field again and then back to 210. Afterwards, we went over to 210 for the Halloween party. Afterwards, we went to 210 for fried chicken. All these thoughts are going through my head. At around 11:00, they came from her party to give me my Christmas present—a rock from the art museum. At around 2:30 we went to Denny’s where we met a Saudi Arabian guy named Shaun and three of his Saudi Arabian friends. At around 8:30am, She’s Having a Baby came on, so we watched it.

The Rock

Damn. Does that mean something is going bad?

Either before Denny’s or after Back to the Future, we watched Birdy. Even as I write this, I’m on the verge of tears. Everything is not back to normal.

For the past two weeks I’ve been going overboard with diet pills and laxatives. Friday morning, we got up at around noon.

God, it’s so weird. Goodbye. Guess what else? Guess what?

Happy New Year. He calls and asks me out, I say no, he gets pissed, and then he calls again the next day and the whole process starts over again. He dropped acid last Friday night. He had been drinking, too. He had never seen the ocean before. He said that people were shooting dirty looks at him the whole time. He said that she is the most boring person in the world. He said it wouldn’t work because people would know. He wasn’t a big help.

I don’t know. I ended up going back to the party with them. I felt really bad for him because the paper kept ripping. I gave him my phone number. I had been doing gin shots and drinking beer, so I was semi-tipsy. I hate mentioning his name. I hate this. I hope I can remember it all. I just feel really ugly. I want to get some muscle relaxers. I was so nervous going to that party last night. I was so upset. I went downstairs and got my stuff and told her what was going on. I’ll tell you why. I’m the president of your fan club. I’m writing this as we drive back from Florida. I’ve been getting prank phone calls for the past three days from some guy who calls himself Charlie. If you need something, I’m there. If you sort of want something, I’m there. Instead of getting deeper, it got shallower. It was a Christmas tree drawn with crayons on a piece of notebook paper. It was the hayride. It’s getting dark now.

Last night there was a party at 210. Last night when she was out of his sight, she was flirting with the bouncers. Let the motherfucker burn.

210

Maybe I’m being stupid. Most of me hates her. My pillow is full of big black smears from my mascara. My stomach is growling as I write this.

Now I can’t because of the skank.

Okay. On Monday, we got some peppermint schnapps, made hot chocolate, got some blankets, and drove out to a field to look at the stars. On the way back to the apartment we stopped at the studio.

Plus, he writes poetry.

Saturday night, I went to a margarita party at 210. She gave the card to the bus driver. She had beer and we did shots of gin. She is disgusting both sober and drunk. She said I was too skinny. She said that it hurt and that she bled. She told him that she treats sex as recreation. So, I spent a major part of the night sitting outside in her car.

1991

That really wasn’t what I wanted to hear. The day after tomorrow I may be going to Florida. The girl has never gone to the gyno for fear that something is wrong with her. Then he went to sleep and I went back out to the party. Then we went to his car to do more shots. They went into the bathroom. They were sitting around on the sinks. They were watching The Princess Bride, so we stayed. Thursday morning at 6:30 I was awakened by the sound of someone tapping on my window. Tonight was the homecoming skit. Tuesday, he called and told me that he got the hint and that he won’t be bothering me anymore. Two of them went inside, two more got out, and I leaned over and puked out the side of the car. Two Wednesday nights ago we went to Galleria to see his band.

1991

We all decided to go to Sanibel Island to drink. We did a midnight run for milk and Oreos and then sat around talking. We just sat there and made small talk. We really need to talk. We went over to 210 to hang out so he could carve a pumpkin. We went to Club Vogue last night, and I got kicked out for drinking. We went to Katy Station and then we came back here to watch My Left Foot. We went to Mister Donut for donuts and coffee, and then we headed back to the complex. We were all on the couch again. Wednesday night, the US went to war against Iraq. When we got there, I went to the bathroom. When we got to the apartment, they were smoking a joint. Whore.

1991

An explanation of my alphabetical journal is here. Below the line is from April 4, 1990 to August 9, 1990 with names (and whores!) removed. 

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A man is singing. Afterwards, we bought doughnuts and then went back to eat and sleep. Afterwards, we came back to my room, rented a VCR, and watched “Stand by Me.” Afterwards, we filled his fire extinguisher with water. Another thing is that I always gain weight at school because I don’t work out and I drink every once in a while. At one point, he went into the kitchen to make popcorn. At this point, the good outweighs the bad.

Bad News: My rent is now $150 instead of $100.

Do you understand what I’m saying?

Everyone might help out for a few days, but eventually they will sink back into the rut and continue to use plastic bags and Styrofoam containers.

For lunch I’m having strawberries, an oat bran bagel, and skim milk. Four weeks ago today they had intercourse, and things are still comfortable between them. Friday night we went to his house to drink beer, tie-dye, and watch “Evil Dead, pt. 2.” Fucker.

Girl, you know it’s true. God, I am so sick of working here.

He accidentally broke my quartz over the weekend. He called me at 4:15am this morning and asked if he could come over. He cut his wrist with an X-Acto knife. He is sort of like a cross between Willie Nelson and Lou Reed. He never showed up. He told me that I get on his nerves and a lot of things I do are irritating. He told me that I’m too nice to him. He was all drunk and cut up from running around in the woods. His brother is an asshole. Hopefully the mosquitos won’t be too bad.

I am an annoying stranger. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I drank two and shot-gunned one. I feel like I’m really in control. I feel like I’ve really screwed up. I hate him. I hate it. I hate myself for saying that. I hate this!!! I hate this. I have no money. I have no regrets. I’m sitting in a van in a parking lot in Springfield. It was awful. It was nice. It was really nice. It’s 9:40 and nothing is going on, so we’re all just sitting around on the couches at the Chez. It’s something that has to be done eventually, and I think I’m ready.

Last night we did laundry together. Last night when we were at the Blue Note, I started wondering about something, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. Less than five minutes later, she was drinking and smoking again. Luckily, she was drunk, so she won’t remember what she saw.

My car died for good last night. My purse was stolen Thursday night while I was playing piano for the high school choir concert.

Not a lot has happened.

Right? Right. Rose quartz is supposed to help you give and receive love more freely. Rumor has it that she has a disease, so he should keep his distance.

Saturday night we went to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Avalon. She backed out of the apartment. She knew what was going on. Stop.

The most entertaining part of the evening was when a girl in a bikini top and a tight miniskirt puked all over herself and slung it everywhere. The only problem is that I’m on the rag. The plan is to get down to 115 pounds. The Thursday night after I shaved my head, we went for a walk. They sent me a heart shaped crystal box. Thursday night I’m going to see Chick Corea. Today was my birthday. Tonight we’re going to race go-carts and rent movies. Two weeks from tomorrow I’ll be twenty years old.

Wait. We ate, drank some wine, and then smoked some pot. We drank some beer beforehand and afterwards. We sat under a tree on a blanket. We walked to the columns, and then we went to look at the babies at University Hospital. We went out to Pinn4cles, built a fire, and drank two cases of beer. We went to a store so he could get cigarettes. We were worried about him all night, and then we found him passed out. What a life! What a mess! What a weekend! What an asshole. When we got there, all of the lights were out. While we were at Denny’s, we discussed where the clitoris is. Wish me luck!

Yesterday was Earth Day. Yesterday we went to the art museum and to the planetarium. You mean a lot to me, mean a lot to me, a lot to me, to me, me.

Sheila Heti wrote in a journal for over a decade, uploaded it into Excel, sorted the sentences alphabetically, and released Alphabetical Diaries. I’m reading it right now and loving how you can get to know someone even when there is a complete lack of order. (Speaking of lack of order, do we need to talk about all the shit that’s happening in the world?! (We don’t. Not today.))

I’ve been writing in a journal since I was 11, but the only notebook that still exists (because I had a book burning!) is the one that goes from February 16, 1990 to March 17, 1991. The journal is absolutely horrible. I was absolutely horrible. (I used the word Whore a lot.)

Earlier this week I went through the first 52 pages of that journal, typed the sentences that couldn’t be used to identify anyone(!!!), and alphabetized them. AND that’s what falls below the horizontal line (along with some photos from the past several months, because photos add color, especially if they aren’t black and white). Enjoy hanging out with 19-year-old me.

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Afterwards we went back to our hotel room. All I can do is watch it happen. Although I never did the duty, I’m honored to have been chosen. At one point we got out the Ouija board. At one point, it got really quiet.

But there was no way I was going to go with these feelings, so I got comfortable and slept. But, instead of stopping, I kept going. But there’s a problem.

Does it sound like I’m trying to talk myself into something?!

Especially since I am almost 20 years old.

He said, “I think people feel uncomfortable around me because I was in a psych ward.” Help. His cheeks get really red when he’s cold.

I better stop now. I can deal with him, but not for very long periods of time. I fell asleep on the chair. I find it hard to look at him because he always seems to have crusty things on his mouth. I found this out the hard way. I got my highest score ever! I have no goals. I shaved my head. I tried again right away and got through. I watched a movie today called When Harry Met Sally.

I’ll never forget Fred and Ginger. I’m home for spring break until next Sunday. I’m tired.  If love has got you down, then love can get you right back up! It’s a formal party.

Kodo is a Japanese percussion ensemble.

Last night I got drunk at the doghouse. Last night I saw Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Let’s go to the hospital and look at the babies.

Nothing looks right, and I feel really stupid.

Please burn my pictures and any other things that remind you of me. Pretty soon, I acted like I had fallen asleep.

She tells me that it’s for me, and that it’s a man. She was high, and he was drunk. So, we’re supposed to get together and talk sometime today. Sort of strange, but in a good way.

Thank you for the purple cow. The line was busy. The whole drug dealing thing turns me off. Then we all laid around on the floor. They were all sleeping on the floor, so we had two beds for the four of us.

We all started talking, and I mentioned that I need a bed. We go to the park by the zoo and sit on a big blanket. We must have gotten a bad batch, so we didn’t have a very good time. We were drinking Kool-Aid and Everclear. We’re not going to do anything that costs money, because neither of us has any. Well, that’s bullshit.

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Next up, pages 53-112.
Maybe with more Whore!