Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci
Bernardo Bertolucci

horny Sims?

watch/ listen

why did I ever stop.

Deciding to "quit" the violin after a good 7 years of classical training was a BAD IDEA.

8 years later I decide I miss the damned instrument. This realization has caused both my room mates and my downstairs neighbors much pain. Irish fiddle tunes are okay, easy enough but DAMN. DAMN IT EVA. Classical is a little harder to re-learn. Jacques-Fereol Mazas I'm sorry for butchering your "duette Für zwei violinen"

This years resolution.... practice.

crappy taxidermy

crappy taxidermy

dreams

How is it possible to have dreams constantly revolving around the use and abuse of various substances.

Last night I smoked a massive amount of weed (not in real life... in my sleep)

The night before I got my hands on cocaine. (not in real life... in my sleep)

The night before I got drunk off tequila. ( not in real life... in my sleep )

the night before that I was at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.... then witnessing the Apocalypse.

This all seems kind of strange to me.

This morning I ran out of coffee. I went to the gym, then treated myself to a cup of coffee afterwards. Almost immediately after purchasing, I spilled the contents of my cup into my bra... I don't know exactly how I managed to do that. Not down my shirt... literally into my bra, avoiding all contact with my outer clothing.

luckily it was iced and did not scald the living daylight out of me, just made me shiver. and made a really unusual stain on my sports bra.

an old woman with fuchsia lipstick who was ahead of me in line said : Honey, you're pretty.

It's funny how certain tame comments can be creepy, if said by the wrong person. The same goes for potentially creepy comments becoming tame if said by the right person.

she had grey hair pulled back in a tight bun, with one hand she held a cane and the other shook slightly. She repeated her order 3 times , forgetting that she had already asked for her coffee.

the man taking orders asked her how she was doing , she gave him a pained look "I'm falling apart."

he didn't know how to respond, I don't suppose he got that a lot. He told her to drink water because it was going to be a hot day. How do you respond to that? "I'm falling Apart?" How would I respond to that? When she told me I was pretty I told her that she was pretty too.

ps. protective knee tights

fun fact for ya

there is a dog breed called the " Bich Poo "

hm.

playing

today I played on the roof with a camera and a cup.

I got sun burnt.

7: 17

Yesterday. I woke up, went to ashby, went to the gym, went to Longs, went to Safeway, biked home, Lay out on my roof for an hour, went to get frozen yogurt with Alice and several of her friends, went to a garage sale, found a table covered in butterflies. found a dresser bedside table that I love, came home, ate dinner, set up my room, biked to Ikea, bought a new bedspread and a pillow, biked home, put my new bedspread on my bed, curled up in my new beautiful bed, watched a movie and fell asleep.

Today will be a little less busy I feel. Maybe not, it seems that every day is just as busy with little errands. I like busy. I biked so much yesterday, I love the feeling of sore muscles, i've been getting that feeling every day for the past week it seems. I'm getting stronger. I like that.

It's Sunday morning , I woke up late. ( 7:17 ).

my mother texted me this morning telling me to get a bike helmet, apparently a bird flew into our house and that means one of two things : death, or good luck.

I feel as though I am too liberal with what I write on this blog... but i don't seem to care. I feel as though no one would bother reading all this goop, would I bother to read someone else's endless rantings and ramblings? perhaps I should just print out all these entries and slip them into my other diary that's kept secret from all prying eyes and just continue my writing there. That seems a much better idea.

Kate returns tomorrow. I am so excited to see her.

why bums get a bad rep.

(to skip long winded introduction, scroll down )

This morning started in its usual way, waking up in an oblivion to grayish purple skies. For the first 5 minutes I stay half in my dream and half in my bedroom, unable to comprehend that my thoughts are not all factual, half of them based on loony ideas I conjure up as I sleep. Then the adrenaline comes, weird natural caffeine seems to zip from my brain to my toes forcing me to realize the time: 6 am. The adrenaline takes charge of my thoughts.

something along the lines of:

"FUCK its late, I can't sleep any later or else I wont get anything done fuckfuckfuckfeck wake up NOW "

I slide out of bed-make coffee-stare at my fuzzy reflection with sandman eyes -wonder why I look exactly as I did the day before-put on some vaguely acceptable clothing- bumble around wasting time then eventually pack my bag and bike somewhere.

Today I biked to the Ashby Bart Flea Market, hoping to find things I need for the apartment .... maybe even a new bike. Negative, instead I bought overpriced earrings for fifteen dollars, money that I should have spent on groceries, or coffee.

damn I need coffee.

Anyway, the point of this entire long winded introduction : bums getting a bad reputation.

the homeless toothless, grinning men who leer at me and the rest of the female population on every street corner and BART stop.

Actually they don't have to be homeless, or toothless, this blog post is dedicated to all the creepy men out there.

I don't understand what drives these men to say the most absurdly inappropriate things, or why. Maybe it's instinct. or maybe I'm just prude.

After I left the house I did not have a good start to my day, I fell off my bike, landed on my bad knee, right on the scar and skinned it where it's most sensitive. After finding an ATM, getting back up on my bike and parking it at the Ashby station, I walked around, found earrings, spent too much on them, then decided it was time to go.

Example 1.

As I walked towards my bike, two old men stop mid sentence and blatantly turn to watch me walk, I peeked a look at them to make sure they were not about to rob the shit out me (didn't look like it.. they looked fairly harmless until they started speaking).

" red shoes, mmmm that's what she needs. red shoes."

(they were not selling anything, in case you think they were trying to lure me in to buy some shoes)

I awkwardly realize they are standing beside my bike.

" mmmm and red lipstick, red lipstick to match the shoes... you would look so nice. yes. and blowing pink bubblegum. You need some pink bubble gum baby"

I pretend not to hear as i fumble with my bike lock, the two men eying my ass as i bend down to undo the damned stubborn kriptonite U-lock.

I stand up , grab my bike. begin walking. relieved to escape. they both face me , I can't see their eyes, just my reflection in their shiny black sunglasses which wrap around their heads, sporty and streamlined.

"You know you'd look nice with pink bubble gum. Alice in wonderland, yes you're prettier than alice. wear some red shoes and red lipstick and blow some pink bubbles mmmmmm yes yes. GUUURRL DONT YOU HEA', YOUR JUS' LIKE ALICE IN WONDERLAND. yeahhhhhhhh mmmmmm girl yeah"

I'd like to make it clear that i do not look anything like alice. I wore nothing the least bit to remind them of alice, maybe it was my hairband? maybe it's because I look 14? Alice in wonderland would not wear a shirt sweater, sports bra, rolled up jeans and CHACOS for gods sake. come on. I have much more wonderland appropriate clothing in my closet.

Anyway I bike away, laughing at the absurdity of what just happened.

Example 2. (this one was actually fairly creative... )

I get to a light with a bum waiting on the other side of the street to cross. as I pass him he growls : "baby you got a flat"

I look down to check my tires (okay so it's my own fault that I'm gullible ) ,

Hearing him yell, I turn as I bike away to see him pointing to his chest. ha ha very funny.

I mean, okay so he was not hitting on me, more making fun of my lacking chest but how that is considered socially acceptable I do not understand.

Example 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10: All the other creeps that yell from their front porches, or the ones who turn in their tracks to say "hey baby how you doin' today" as you fly by on your bike.

I don't understand what drives these men to make these comments, or to stop what they are doing to yell out as you go by. And it's not just the homeless, biking home I go through a fairly acceptable neighborhood but can bet on a comment from most men over the age of 40. Do they really think you are going to jump off your bike, run over to them as they clean their car and say "HAY MISTER, WILL YOU FUCK ME PLEASE? I HEAR YOU YELL "HAY BABY" AND NOW I WANT TO FUCK YOU"

that will never, and has probably never happened.

I wonder if any old man or hobo has actually had success after a particularly good cat call. Maybe some dumb slutty girl DID stop, turn around and drag the pedophile into some alleyway to fuck his brains out. Maybe this one success is to blame, embedded in the brains of all old creeps, giving them hope and a reason to go on.

Maybe I am just a little bitter due to the fact that my main interaction with the opposite sex comes in the form of obscene gestures from toothless old men.

"Remember, damaged people are dangerous because they know they can survive"

Good Morning

I woke up early this morning, 6 am yet again. I opened my eyes and immediately heard my phone go off, I received a text from someone in Ireland :

"Got tricked into smokin e last night...

bad buzz today. bad buzz.

my insides are so scared! Have to sit beside the water to be safe. "

and another text:

" there were dots on the screen that was my vision, that meant fatal error. And I'm pretty sure someone is going to kill me today. "

(tsk tsk)

On another note. I have been in this house for 5 days on my own. Old houses creak and squeak and go bang in the night. I should know that by now, i've lived in a 200 year old house and a 500 year old house in ireland.... but something about the city made me nervous . Each creak and bang made me imagine murderers and robbers and rapists morphing from the shadows in my peripheral vision.

I put on a bit of a fake brave face before I left i guess, laughing off anyone who doubted my bravado.

But after the first night, all the nerves have dissapeared. the noises I hear in the night are now oddly comforting. I could see myself forgetting they are there soon enough, as I did with the noises of the cicadas by our house back in pennsylvania.

But now I feel so safe. Safer than I ever did in the dorms (shudder). I can be alone here, it's a bit of an escape. I've always been an introvert and enjoyed being by myself... that must come from those years in Ireland on the side of a mountain, or being bookish, or maybe its just the way i was born. I like having only myself to deal with. sitting in this big creaky house feels so natural, and I'm becoming to enjoy simple housekeeping . cooking real meals, cleaning, doing the dishes. having my own bedroom, living room, dining room, bathroom, room room room. so much room.

I now have a better understanding of homeowners pride, It makes me want to be 30 and have a house thats entirely mine.

I spent all day yesterday lovingly unpacking and setting up a bed in my new bed room. I didn't step foot outside the entire day, and found myself getting fairly obsessed with setting up my room perfectly. No more couch sleeping.

and the most amazing wonderful beautiful exciting amazing amazing amazing thing happened.

I finally fixed my camera! All summer it's been throwing a bit of a hissy fit, no more. no more. I took a few breaks from unpacking and bed making to snap a few photographs of the new house.

This place makes me happy.