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Abi Oozi - laundry causer
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| Can I have your sweater cause its cold cold cold... |
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02 25, 2009 @ 14:23 pm
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mood |
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 content |
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music |
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Faith No More - "Midlife Crisis" |
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Mr. Zebra surpassed Mrs. Crocodile's expectations last night, and we had a fabulous time. Even made me dinner and allowed me a turn riding on the shopping cart. He laughs as much as I do while cuddling, and Caddyshack plays on. Fun stories about drinking, and not drinking, and talking shop while we smoke on the porch, giving my face rugburn with his stubble that I'm not used to dealing with. Poking at my earrings and asking it it sounds like a windchime.
Yes, I do think that Mr. Zebra has made Logan a very happy berry lately.
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| Soyez bon, mon chéri. |
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02 17, 2009 @ 19:40 pm
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mood |
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 bored |
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music |
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Jimi Hendrix - "Voodoo Child" |
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"Look man, I'm telling you right off the bat, I'm high-maintainance, so... I'm not gonna tip-toe around your marriage, or whatever it is you've got goin' there. If you wanna be with me, you're with me. Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours."
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02 16, 2009 @ 12:36 pm
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"The cuter and smaller something is, the more likely it will be raped. By tentacles."
So very sick. One side of my nose kinda works and my chest hurts, snot running into my stomach making me queasy. Still had to go to work last night, curled up around Mr. Zebra and wiped snot on him and made him promise we could go home and watch True Romance and listen to Fiona Apple until I passed out. He doesn't want his couch diseased, but I suspect he can deal with it.
Dear god this feels gross. So much crap in my head and chest, feels like I can't breathe. Family is out somewhere watching people feed eagles or something.
New forwarding address is Couch of Mr. Zebra, please bring tissues and movies, especially if they're really lame. And lots and lots of lemon ginger tea.
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| "Baby say that its all gonna be alright, I believe that it isn't..." |
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02 13, 2009 @ 1:46 am
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mood |
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crushed |
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music |
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Fiona |
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I'm sorry, I've been an awful friend lately. Absent from everything, curling up on myself and shutting out the world. I'll be back very soon, once I hit the ground again.
Everything is falling apart. Everything hurts so easy, my skin feels like glass. Some of it is my fault, some of it ain't. I want everything to work out, just once, one day that goes right. One day the glass doesn't fucking crack. Kids are careless with rocks. Someday, I'll take Daddy, No Pot, The Enforcer, and Mr. Zebra, and we'll live somewhere far far away and never have to worry about breaking glass again. Or at least for a day.
( Oh you silly stupid passtime of mine... )
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02 12, 2009 @ 2:33 am
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All my life is on me now, hail the pages turning
And the future is on the bound, hell don't know my fury
You're all I need, you're all I need, you're all I need
You're all I need, You're all I need, you're all I need
Youre all I need - and maybe some faith would
Do me good
I don't know what I'm doing, don't know should I
Change my mind, I can't decide, there's too many
Variations to consider
No thing I do don't do no thing but bring me
More to do, It's true, I do imbue my blue unto myself,
I make it bitter
Baby, lay your head on my lap one more time
Tell me you belong to me
Baby say that it's all gonna be alright
I believe that it isn't.
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| "Oh God you've got to help me a little bit, you've got to have a relief file for me..." |
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02 06, 2009 @ 2:51 am
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music |
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Blind Melon - "Dear Ol' Dad" |
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Love is fucking... fuck. What the FUCK is the purpose of that emotion? Ain't never served me no good, an it sure as hell ain't doin it now. Fuck off.
I'm so fucked. This has taken over my entire thought process, and I'm not kidding I'm starting to get crazy, doing irrational things and losing self-control. Obsessed. Like I haven't been in years. And it fucking hurts. I need some Erica-time, my go-to for girl-talk. Drinking myself to sleep every night to dull the thought processes that keep me awake. And to do away with headaches.
Instead of thinking, I'll do this. I tag everyone:
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.
1. Tomatoes make my hands itch, especially the juice.
2. My first cigarette was a Marlboro red when I was 15 and I didn't know how to smoke it.
3. First kiss resulted in me having to write out a report of the incident and almost a court case. First kiss from a girl was in the woods at church camp.
4. I started drinking by myself at 15 or 16, water bottles filled with rum and vodka in my room, and I haven't broken the comfortable habit after all these years.
5. Women I count as best friends have all turned their backs on me after the same amount of time. I've learned from my mistakes there, and avoid the situation all together.
6. The smell of vinegar will make me leave a room, by instinct, not by a dislike of the smell itself.
7. I like to have men trail after me and hurt them, physically. I've bit, choked, and punched, burned with a cigarette, but they all deserved it for the most part.
8. I respond to compliments by insulting myself, or looking at the floor.
9. I don't like being alone with people, sleeping next to them, and have pressure of speech. I've slept under a coffee table to avoid sharing a sleeping space.
10. I have a crippling fear of airplanes. I have to look away and sometimes cover my ears if one flys overhead, talking about them makes me breathe fast and heavy, I have to be forced on one and restrained once in my seat. I won't use the bathroom because I think the shifting of weight will cause the plain to crash. I start crying in the airport and have to curl up on the floor with my back to window.
11. Being tickled and having things touch my neck or ankles will cause me to lash out without thinking. I've scarred someone's hand, kicked people in the face and neck with combat boots, and punched my 6'3" boss two days ago.
12. Despite being tiny, I have no regard for my health and eat things that should probably kill me. I was once paid for a photoshoot in cheeseburgers, and at age 11 I ate a half pound of raw bacon and didn't even get a stomach ache.
13. I often wipe snot on people's stuff when they're not looking.
14. Since I was a kid, I wanted to be a sideshow attraction more than anything. I still harbor that dream.
15. The only shopping addiction I have is buying books. I have to be told not to when in a store because I will buy one, even if I don't know what it is. I always read them, sometimes over and over, but its the one thing I cannot pass up and gets me in trouble sometimes.
16. I collect dead things. Usually I make jewelry out of them because the things I have are smaller. I have a half a jawbone of a possum, a squirrel skull and an alligator foot all on necklaces, but the one that makes people the most uneasy seems to be the one made of my teeth, with my babyteeth in a tiny jar in the middle.
17. I often take my clothes off without thinking. Hardly am I even intoxicated, its just a habit. Sometimes it gets me in trouble, gets other people in trouble, and sometimes it makes me money.
18. I'm an ass person. All tits are great, but a perfect ass is hard to find. Its the first thing I look at on a girl.
19. I've bribed people at work with naked pictures of myself to get smoke breaks. (we don't have set ones, just whenever you can run out the door)
20. My number one would-do-anything-for crush is Fiona Apple.
21. I've had surgery on both big toes, have a finger that jammed so it grows crooked, both kneecaps snap out of socket periodically, but the left one is broken permanently and the leg is shorter. I'm almost blind out of my right eye.
22. Instead of smiling at friends/people/strangers as a passing greeting, I sneer at them. Not to be cool or badass, its just a habit, maybe a nervous one, and some people take offense to it and assume I don't like them.
23. The best sex dream I ever had was about Marilyn Monroe.
24. I started drinking coffee when I was 12 and have to have at least a cup every day or I get a headache.
25. I haven't seen my hair un-dyed in it's natural state of color in 8 years, and only know its some shade of brown, as my roots never matched it and thats the most I've seen of it.
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| Gonna need a bigger boat... |
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02 03, 2009 @ 2:50 am
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mood |
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drained |
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Ain't lookin so good these days. Falling the fuck apart.
I'm just so tired. Drinking my dinner, stretching a limb in every direction but getting nothing done. I unzip, I shake, I collect my singles and go.
( I'm just so fucking tired. )
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| "Talkin to myself, everybodys starin at me, I'm only bleedin..." |
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02 02, 2009 @ 1:33 am
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music |
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Faith No More - "RV" |
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Newest work-related injury, a lovely brand on my elbow. Proclaiming my tainted!love for my Jaydaddy.
Gonna just sharpie the 'ay' on to the end at somepoint. Maybe I'll get the rest branded and then outlined. hXc you know?
Time to drink some old PBR and pass out. But first! A sandwich. Mmmm win.
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| The sky is falling... no, I'm tipping over backwards. |
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01 31, 2009 @ 2:37 am
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mood |
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I miss drugs. Fuck. |
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music |
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"Float" |
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Have been doing next to nothing lately. Got snowed in, snapped knee out of socket again, finally beat the bitch-ass slytherin kid at chess on my Order of the Phoenix game for PS3...
I really wish I had a butterball turkey. Alas, cheeseburger will have to do.
Cheeseburger and Tony Starkers. Oh the life cycle of me is sad but somehow fulfilling.
( I NEED BOOZE. )
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| “I drink to stay warm, and to kill selected memories...” |
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12 18, 2008 @ 6:26 am
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mood |
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numb |
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If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
“It seemed like this was one big Prozac nation, one big mess of malaise. Perhaps the next time half a million people gather for a protest march on the White House green it will not be for abortion rights or gay liberation, but because we’re all so bummed out.”
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12 14, 2008 @ 3:14 am
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I made it happen again
and one more time
I like to spin
I hate how sick I get
Spun too fast I guess
Sick cycle spin cycle
Rinse cycle
Still feel the filth
Can't you?
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11 30, 2008 @ 9:53 am
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Scalded my whole right hand. I'm an awful lefty. Typing is hard, and slow. Hand is sandwiched between a bag of frozen peaches and one of peas. They gave me vicodin for the pain and i threw up my soup
So how do i enjoy this medication while i have it? And what should i eat? Halp!
Smiling in that picture actually, behind my tiny child-size hands. Fun size! My eyes are still all red and puffy from screaming and crying for four hours yesterday. I was banging on the table and howling curses so loud at the Urgent care center they had to call my mom in to 'settle' me. I screamed down the hallway that I would "fucking chew my hand off" if they didnt unwrap it immediately. I think I also threw a metal dish across the room but the pills were kicking in so i dont really remember.
Sims time. I'll return when my typing improves.
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11 15, 2008 @ 22:53 pm
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mood |
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uncomfortable |
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music |
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Ness |
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What am I doing. I feel like everything I touch turns to suck. I kept crying at work for no good reason and finally just went outside and threw up.
( Heres to happier times... )
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| "Stopped thinkin about that loaded gun..." |
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11 11, 2008 @ 2:42 am
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mood |
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missing Jay |
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music |
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Tom Waits |
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So I left Godsgirls. I don't have the energy anymore. For anything really...
I'd forgotten entirely what depression felt like. I've been so happy for what seems like a long time, or at least complacent with how things were going, even if nothing was happening. Now things are creeping back to me, and I don't know what I want or what to do.
I'm not as down as I usually get, thats hopeful. I just don't know, I miss Jay, and I just want to snuggle up to her and feel some sweet love. My other cuddle source is out of town for a week and thus my hands are cold. But most of me is, so...
Anyway, curling up in bed with Phil the bear and Mystery Science Theater and seeing what tomorrow feels like. Maybe I'll wake up and be okay. Hell, maybe the Titanic will rise and they'll find that Tylenol killer, they already found a cure for Polio, anything is possible.
Just know I'm still here, for everyone, even useless as I can be sometimes, and I can live through sleeping.
Sweetlove
Abi
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11 02, 2008 @ 11:43 am
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Cellphone went through the wash.
Needless to say I'll be hard to get ahold of, as I have no phone and no numbers. Waaah.
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10 17, 2008 @ 13:34 pm
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Why am I still awake. This is stupid. I didn't even get to make the nube at work cry. I love doing that! This is me and asian Heather at the Big Muddy picnic about two months back. We're hot.
I'm in the process of painting some little rocketships for her boy's room. Pretty sweet stuff.
My bed is too covered in junk to sleep on it. Leather jackets, paint brushes, I Dream of Jeannie and MST3K dvds... also, a bunch of taillight bulbs. Yeah I don't know. I'm too lazy to move all of it. Also all the change I have is scattered at the end of the bed, so I hear it fall off in the middle of the night. The space under my bed is a graveyard of empty Dr. Pepper chapstick tubes and stinky socks. I'll have to do one of those pictures-of-my-whole-room posts later, when my camera isn't out of batteries... but if you just take this picture and copy/paste it about seven times, you'll have my whole room. Its rather.... busy, I guess is the word.
Yeah, its no wonder a lot of people have trouble sleeping in my room, and why I can't sleep in stark white spaces. I'm too used to christmas lights and things stapled to walls and visual white-noise. If that makes any sense at all.
Okay, in the picture above, try to find the following things, think of it as an I-Spy game:
1. A kickflip
2. Raccoon tail
3. Culver's cup
4. Dead flowers
5. A duck head
6. Flower bracelet
7. Plastic chicken
8. Union Jack
9. Printed song lyrics
10. Varga girl
Have fun with that, kiddies.
I'm trying to use the word 'epic' less because its taking over my life. Its just such a great word and so versatile. IS THAT WRONG. EPIC!
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| There is a light and it never goes out... |
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10 09, 2008 @ 19:40 pm
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mood |
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 confused |
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Always wanted to be one...
I need more Christmas lights in here, its not twinkly enough. I need more twinkle. And dangles. My room sort of looks like my head, nothing matches and all these shiny things hang around, my earrings can never be too big. I got my daith pierced today, I dunno if I like it. Feels out of place. I have little ears and sometimes things just don't fit like they should. But most of me is pretty small so I'm used to it.
Off to redecorate.
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| Candy Spinner |
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09 09, 2008 @ 23:47 pm
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mood |
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 contemplative |
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Theres a merry-go-round go round I go around and around I go it goes... it goes... nowhere. Smoking in the cold warm coffee a leather jacket that smells like someone else's life, not mine. I bought their memories for a dollar upstairs. I wonder what they're worth.
Curled up intently in a room of plastic palm trees and candy colored christmas lights, smelling like strawberries and smoke and coffee and kisses. The kisses smell stale, they don't keep very long. The smoke is fresher. Paper snowflakes hang from strings on the ceiling, lasting with more hope than the real thing, spinning with the air and casting lacey shadows pink green blue black white. It smells like my life, I made it like them, cutting holes at will and unfolding to see what it looks like multiplied. The more holes, the more interesting it looks. But it means theres less left, too.
"You smoke too much." She says. I'm just making more holes, more holes more design, the snowflake gets complicated, harder to work with. The chess pieces work themselves into the corners of the board. Theres too many boats in the water. Every empty coffee cup with a spent cigarette is another hole another pawn another boat. They've all got to go somewhere. I've finished all the snowflakes, but I'll always make more. They're all different anyway, more shadows more spinning more pink green blue black white orange. Hang more christmas lights. Everything looks like bubbling fruit sodas, light changing and flickering and moving, no objects at rest everything must breath and move around the chess board. Smoking soda strawberries. That will make a nice snowflake.
Around around around it goes I go it goes we go nowhere. Hang another snowflake and buy more leather jacket memories. They're only a dollar.
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| I want to be worth it. |
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08 28, 2008 @ 19:14 pm
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She's looking at me. Looking up looking down smoking look again. In a diner drinking coffee, its not good but its the best I've ever had. Reading drink smoke. Its the best I've ever had because I'm alone and its mine. It occurs to me I've never been alone before. I've always been waiting for my ride, literally and figuratively. Drop off pick up stop off hop in. I can go when I want. I can say nothing and I can keep me inside my ribcage.
Being with other people is... hard. I will tell you everything I did for the day, and you will learn nothing. You don't know the feelings doing acrobatics in my gut, and you don't know how my eyes looked the first time I got beat up, or how I hid the same look when I came home that day from school, having to explain to my mother about the boy from school trapping me in an elevator.
But she's looking at me, Diner Girl. Chain and lock around her neck may mean something, may not, I don't ask. She halfway hides her stare behind smoke. I look back quickly, every so often. I want to know what the fuss is about. She doesn't know what I'm like, what I've done, what I do. She doesn't know how I taste and she can't point out between giggles all the points of my accent, veering from east coast to the south. She doesn't expect me to flash her, or say something cynical, she doesn't even know what cigarettes I smoke.
"The thing you have to remember is, its not about you, its not about you..."
I'm alone and everything is as loud as I want, silent as I want, I don't have to the be the pirate, whiskey in hand as kids sit around me wanting to know what makes me tick. They want stories with direct advice. I have none to give, just funny little bits hidden behind jargon and verbose recounts. Its not about you. Its not about you.
The finish, after I've told them what they ask, they want a closer, something to take with them that will explain what is inside this creature in front of them, what makes them tick the way they do, "So what is it that fucked up Abi Oozi?" I was asked that once. I felt sick.
And all I could say was, "Do everything in life, like you need the money."
Don't waste your pain.
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revenant_oozi's journal
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