birdseed shirt

Good bye Live journal!

"space"
highway 46/where james dean died
july 23


it must be lonely being an astronaut. can you imagine playing schubert's "ave maria" looking down at our only home, so huge and contained? i imagine it is the most painful joy- seeing with your own eyes the futility and fragility of the world. can you imagine being in space with another astronaut friend? just the two of you alone in your huge secret. are there ever days when they walk outside and sigh thinking, "this reminds me of space." were there dinner parties where one astronaut friend would catch the other looking at the sky through the open kitchen window? then one might put their hand on the others shoulder, or join their gaze, or walk back out to the dancing and look at the tiny silliness. little dancers, little lovers, snow globe figurines, and jewelry box ballerinas under a lonely ocean of stars.

*

my favorite list i have made: SMELLS THAT WEREN'T REALLY HAPPENING.

*

today an ambulance drove by us as we left the Garden of Olives. i wondered what the ambulance would write on a marquee if they had one attached to the top of the vehicle. "DON'T WORRY, IT'S NOT SERIOUS... DON'T WORRY, I'M OK..." ambulances and forest fires and broken doors. then here i am worrying about why i have to eat at the olive garden. so silly. goodnight holiday inn express, good night world. save me from tomorrow's camp.

my heart will take the middle road
eq out the highs and lows
i want to hear the middle beat
the twisted hands, the shuffling feet



smt is good. hawaii is good. i belong with the brown people here.

psalm 91

this i declare of the lord: he alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
he is my God, and i am trusting him.

for he will rescue you from every trap
and protect you from the fatal plague.

i am thankful to be in a phase where i dont want a "special" somebody. that's frank, but its too late and im too tired to sugarcoat anything. nobody wants to treat me like a princess. tim's dad told him that jennifer was a princess and him and his brother were slugs. they asked why and tim's dad told him, "that's just the way it is".

i left my issue of Allstory at home and i wish i hadn't. i hate it when i say only half of what i am thinking. but i always have a lot to say. usually more than people want to know. this is the half i left out. for the first time in my life, i am happy to be under a covenant for this summer. it shines with promise.

and i get to sing the untitled hymn.

x

new pics/videos of colombia on myspace.

username rancyneeves

disfrutale!

* back in texas

* photobucket colombia pics coming soon

* fifa.com

She is a woman. She is a woman because her breasts are huge and slick, so powerful they defy gravity, the two smoothest cups of vanilla. She has a long black ponytail that licks the delicate eyes, the porcelain nose, the pink shiny bits of gold smattered on her lips, on her cigarette. I tasted the carpet that cigarettes leave on your tongue. The shirt was open, there was only enough fabric to cover the front, only enough fabric to make you wish you were dead so your blood would stop rushing. Just enough fabric for you to see her without any on. A man asked for her picture with him. Look at this amazing woman! Just look, just look, dont think. She paid a lot to look like Sailor Moon, she paid a lot to dwarf the rest of us, to make me look like a child. She didnt stop moving the whole night- they say she kicked moderation to the curb along time ago. A professional gold digger. a woman.

Viso, talking. What Viso, what, you live in Cabo. I am surprisingly animate and we have been talking, in English, in Spanish, with small drips of other romance languages. I guess Trevor isnt the only one who hates English when he is tipsy. He called me once, on Thanksgiving Eve, he said, hey nance HAPPY TURKEY DAY! GOBBLE GOBBLE! tu eres un gran amigo and yo quiero give you a beso, an.. uh. hug.. ABRAZO. haha well yo vivo en oregon goobyeee. I couldnt believe I picked up the phone that night, it was 5 am. What, Viso? I felt like everyone around me was moving in slow motion, their lips moving too slow for my focus. I was lost in translation. I was a broken telephone.

I love house, I love love love House, me and Viso told each other. The best. It is the best. I am going to go ask the DJ what song is playing. Be right back. I walked back, aware of attention, and I remembered the cartoons where the eyes flashed yellow in the bushes. I whispered to Ivo, was it weird that I got to go talk to the DJ? She said that I was the only person that would have actually done that. Eduar called me coleta. That was the point when he started to be nice to me. Dick. The song that was playing was called Is It a Sin by Deepest Blue.

Coleta means open minded. To the marijuana smokers, that is righteous. I am accepted because I am tripping, that is, going on a trip, a lifted state. I remembered when I got to Point Loma and the Nazarenes told me I was a free spirit. One day someone walked up to me and said, free spirit is code for wild. I began to dance. Viso told me that Ivonne should would to have her operation until Monday so that on Friday we can all go to the islands. To do what. Women can smell an agenda from a mile away. Limburger Viso. I am cool now, I am coleta now, oh, I am cultured. What if I went with Viso? What if I showed him what a body looks like without surgery? What if we shoved our worlds at each other. Remember what Jonny said? I laughed because the islands arent going to happen. And I liked Viso so much that I almost slipped and called him a liar. Liar... Ivo said I should have a vacation boyfriend. I want to force myself to be a vacation girlfriend, to fill the empty interest with sweet nothings. Sexual energy only gets so far. Its like when Mario finds the little P, and after one minute, his sides contract and his face contorts, and he falls out of the clouds like a rock.

Besides, I havent paid to be a woman yet. And unfortunately, I know how to have fun within myself, and no loser can fill the space of my own amusement. And I thought, Ive only met one, NO. Viso saw me looking at him, but I saw the faces of the triangle in california, the points, so sharp. They throw daggers. Sure Viso, sure, well go to the islands. Which one? Cocoliso or Santa Marta.

why do i have trouble sleeping? every night i stay up reading until really late. i can not believe i lost East of Eden, and right when I was halfway, when Adam goes into Salinas to find Cathy. its really dumb to feel loss over a book, but i do. last night i roved around after the house was asleep, looking for reading material. what i found was the 1000th issue of Rolling Stone tucked away in my suitcase. so i read it from cover to cover, again, which may have been unhealthy. then, after i read it, i flipped back to the pages that had Bob Dylan pictures and stared at them for 10 minutes each, imagining scenarios with the beautiful man. how sick. yes, i have a minor addiction to rolling stone. one day I spent 7 hours in the library reading backstocked issues of the magazine. I was like a teenage boy, discovering adolescence and all of its mystery, possibility, and scandal. I just kept searching through the piles, looking at cover photos, greedily licking my lips, underlining phrases, writing down bands. it was like finding the pile of records under the bed and locking the door, getting trapped inside a musty incense world. your eyes are blindfolded with a purple satin scarf, and you dont know where you´re being led, but you dont care. when i walked out into the sunlight, my eyes burned like hell. which is appropriate, especially after the Alice Cooper issue.

************

the elliott smith song ¨thirteen¨ is beautiful and haunting and i love it. it and ¨agaetis byrun¨ by sigur ros are my sleep songs. i want to learn to play lap steel.

my 10 year old cousin Fernando is a budding musician. when i got to cartagena, after i screamed in his face and hugged him and kissed him all over, he said, ¨do you play guitar?¨, then, ¨acoustic or electric?¨ He got out his guitar and started playing scales. Oh, my heart leapt a million miles into the air. Then he got out his electric and tiny amp and started plying a rock song. Glory! I dont get that weird maternal feeling very often, but gourd, it was squirming like a worm on a hook.
Ferni has a big school project due tomorrow, and he´s not even close to being done. Ivonne and I will be doing his homework today. super


I got a 700 on the Spanish Subject test. Kelly, Christy, do you know if that means I passed out of Spanish? The top score is 800. There is a big awkward gap in between 700 and 800. no....!!!