suzie done bad: highlights

What I do with everything, if I have it: for months I've had half my foot in work - one half feverishly, obsessively working, the other half becoming submerged in a sense of failure and paranoia - it's almost as if I'm trying to mess up. I do this with everything. I talked with Ilana (my roommate) about relationships and she tells me she's a shitty girlfriend, and I realize that I am too - unusually so - clich-iac - when somebody decides to commit to me I take that opportunity to beat them to the chase of null and subsume them under the general shittiness that is my conception of my life - everything in my domain becoming me, rather than "other" - and I treat those close to me like I treat myself - a berating, condescending, cavilling tempremental angel - could it be my mother? Bygones. However I do manage by means of cackly humor and smidgens of kindness - the kindness is out of control these days, it seems that compassion has caught up with me, what with working in a non-profit and learning to love down-and-outs. So on the whole, being in a relationship with myself is not so terrible, has it's redeeming qualities which is why people stay with me until they've had their fill of being and nothingness - Ilana tells me she'd hate to go out with herself and I realize that I agree, in terms of myself, although if I were Ilana I think I'd love to go out with myself...

flights of mania: So I've been on this manic tip - my censors are disintegrating, as evidenced by my spiteful text messages back and forth with Song - spurred by a strange and wonderful coincidence I won't go into at the moment -anyway, this culminated in my stating that she does unintentional "damage" by eagerly highlighting the shortcomings of others - i had specific incidences in my mind which i filed away for the purposes of nonviolent communication which requires less evaluation and more facts - but since I can't text very well and I didn't go into it. Instead I wrote this, which I believe is a quite genius example of how spontaneously evil I could be if I wanted to: "u have an unusual talent for tactlessnes us pass off as honesty " and I would've written more except I had my dr's appointment with hotty blond doctor who slurred as if she were on painkillers - she felt me up in as pleasant a way as a dr could do a physical - and wrote out my scripts with a punkish alacrity...so later I go to my blind date and have a great bit of fun and drink about 100$ worth of wine and I learn what a "wine flight" and a "cheese flight" is even though initially, I was scared to go inside - white teeth and tanned skins everywhere dimmed by red velvet lights and model servers- scared - esp with life going so fast in nyc, one fears experiencing new things 'cus one has to shove aside what one has built for oneself -

Karma Chameleon - I barrell onto see Jeremiah Rifles, some darling earnest 70's rockers who bang away ala MC5 and Television and I really do adore them in a way that I didn't before when I first saw them at Cakeshop (with bad sound, arm in arm with Song across the room from Ian and his Bumble crew and Mary - watching them hatefully at the height of the war between me+Song vs them, the crux of which was the dreaded beacon of POSH: Alex, who dresses very Cape or Martha's Vineyard but once in the Adirondacks, lies down barely alive with the exception of the clock striking 12 when he comes alive to play card games and drink beer - insulting people for their choice of repetitive words since they aren't consumed by the compulsion to try out the breadth of their wordplay with the same easy violence as the cutting of balls in Soviet Russia)...

Last Night: So I left Tainted Lady - sadly - it is their last big night before they close - (I grew strangely attached to the tacky paintings of big-breasted woman)trailing big sounds and glittery lights and it was really quite beautiful. The 70's boys in Jeremiah Rifles touched me [nonphysically] through all of the evil/laziness I had committed throughout the day - in my unwillingness to touch upon the excitement of blind dates and not waiting around the 4th floor to make an emergency dental appointment - the throbbing in my mouth akin to the possibilities of bodily awakening - except a kind hipster dentist opportunistically put his hand in my mouth and felt around, deemin me a "case," 8PM doozily consuming fragrant wines to compensate for my evidenced bruteness...(don't get me wrong, the wine was damn good and the conversation fairly hilarious, even ending with an attempted kiss by the Commerce Bank ATM) and Song calling me at 11PM to tell me she had overreacted, congealing whatever i felt into collapse, whatnot - JR progressed with their walls of sound as if we were NOT in a deadened, jaded age...

And here I am about to hurl from my BLT, saddened greatly because Jane magazine hasn't put up my blog this morning - and i hear the echoes of people - Song - introducing me as "the girl who blogs for Jane" and I wonder what I will be if I don't blog for them - will I be this?
note from last night: Mozart look-alike was there, and I contemplated aloud whether I should go up to him and ask him to write my requiem.