i am not a girl, i am a cyborg. my plastic heart cannot love.

my little cat tsuki has died. my little black pearl is now lost at sea. i am miserable and heartbroken. people say "but she lived such a good long life! 16 years! was so loved!" all true...but none of it makes me miss her less. i love you tsuki!

there is a giant heron that stalks the fields across from the employee parking lot. his name is Edgar. we're pretty good friends.

i got a new phone. it's a "smartphone". it's fucking awesome. i can't figure it out. it's kicking my dumbass. i love it. i love it because my family is scared of/too dumb to figure out new technology. it took my brother 6 years to understand how to retrieve his voice messages (he only has a cellphone because his job makes him carry it) and his loathing/fear of technology is hilarious. if it were up to him, we would still have blocks of ice delivered to our homes instead of refrigeration. my mom is convinced i'm retarded and a miscreant for having a myspace page or for knowing what "facebook" is. i "waste my life" playing world of warcraft. my stepdad won't play it because it's online and that's how people "steal your identity. they get all your info when you play online games." right. not because ALL INFORMATION is on a computer database somewhere, it's all really stored in a treasure chest at the bottom of a virtual sea in the world of warcraft. don't get me wrong, my stepdad is awesome. i love him to death. it's just funny that they think i am part of the ruin of man because i can decipher text messages not written in proper english. i love my brother too...but he's pretty much a douche. and my mom can't decide if i'm awesome or awful which is fine too.

SKIING on the STREETS of PORTLAND!
Current mood: obsequious

i was SNOWED IN for 4 days!! the biggest snowfall portland has seen in 40 years! it was great! because we live on the dark side of a butte, the snow piled high on our side of the street. it was waist deep in our driveway! and we were totally unprepared. on the forth day we left the house and walked a good 3 or 4 miles to finally find a hardware store that had one (yes, ONE) shovel left. the smallest most pathetic little shovel in the world, but we bought it and commenced to dig my truck out of the snow. we could only afford a pair of chains for one vehicle and since rob's car was almost lost in the driveway we chose the truck. then we headed off to one of my new favorite destinations...FRED MEYER! bought a case of soda, 2 packs of cigarettes, meat, rice, and toilet paper. thats all you really need. (except beer. *sigh...i miss you, beer!!) anyway, i missed 3 days of work i still get paid for and no, i am not sick of the cold yet. since i am "from" texas, people here feel obligated to ask me that ALL THE FUCKING TIME. i love oregon...but as of yet i am still unsure of oregonians. no offense to those who might read this. or fuck it, a LOT of offense to those who might read this. p.s. we mostly cancelled x-mess this year due to sheer broke-ness, but a late merry christmas to you and i hope you got what you asked for if not for what you had coming to you. LATER.

Currently reading :
Haunted: A Novel
By Chuck Palahniuk
Release date: By 2006-04-11

i was watching tv today and the opening scene of "the shining" came on.

me: "isn't that hotel around here somewhere?"

rob: "yup. it's the timberline lodge. wanna go?"

me: "yes i fucking do!"

so instead of watching the movie, we went to the movie.

sort of.

the opening scenes were shot at the timberline, but the rest of the movie was created on a london soundstage. even so, the timberline is fucking beautiful! 1930's art deco palace. we drove up mount hood, saw several awesome houses and lodges, and several awesome meth dens and walked in the snow. the SNOW! granted, it hasn't snowed alot around here. i guess we brought the texas heat with us (how sexy!) but i stood in real snow, walked around the timberline lodge and froze my ass off today. i love this place. i'm going to save up and stay at the timberline, get drunk and wander in the wilderness. it's gonna be great!

i have soooo much to post, but waaaay too busy. let me just say this: PORTLAND IS AWESOME. there is no way i could be happier. i got new gutters put on the house and i almost pee'd with glee. that's fucking joy right there people.

turns out my hot boyfriend jemaine clement recently "married" his "longterm girlfriend"!! the hell?? what kind of guy makes you fall hopelessly in love with him and then marries some bitch behind your back?! good thing i have my hot husband to fall back on or else i'd be fucked. ...damn!!

i want to tell you about my brother's friend Mike. i met him the other day. a strange yet extremely familiar day. mike lives in a house that should not only be condemned but demolished. he pays $300 a month in rent which is easily $250 too much. when you are inside, you feel like you are outside, everything coated in a fine yet seemingly purposefully arranged dust. the bathroom is intact but upon entrance, one feels immediately as if they are in an escher induced diorama as the corner floor joists are so hopelessly dilapidated that the rooms seems to shrink and sink away. the backyard (if you could call it that) is filled with such an array of trash and ephemera that it looks staged. i notice a single pink and glittered flip flop overturned near the gate. when i point out that cinderella has lost her slipper i'm met with groans from my audience. seems that "cinderella" is in fact the "anti-cinderella" and her story is meant for another time and is not told to me. mike himself is easily in his 50's. he is at once jovial and generous, telling me whatever i want from the fridge is mine. he's a stocky guy with a serious buddah beer belly yet in no way obese. his chin has a fine white stubble, his chest and arms are covered in white curly fur yet his flesh is a deep tan. testament to his habit of sitting outdoors, chatting to neighbors and passersby. his hair is a curly unkempt mass of salt and pepper, his eyes so vibrantly blue they look almost like ice. but mike's most striking feature is hidden by his bushy mustache. he has a severe hair-lip. he has a tiny white chihuahua, an immaculately clean animal with a giant bell attached to his collar. he is very social and loving and has an affinity for slim-jims. when i ask the dog's name, mike says "cee-ko". chico? "no CEEE-KO...ceeek-ko." my brother whispers, "cisco." but everyone calls the dog "sicko" because that's how mike says it. just then an ice cream truck went by playing a distorted muffled tune, a warped and disturbing version of some mexican lullaby that comes across as sinister yet hypnotic. i light another cigarette and wait to see what happens next.

OMG...i have to stop having going away parties before my liver 'splodes! but awesome jamie party 2 was almost identical to awesome jamie party 1 in it's awesomeness. someone even did a full body face plant into a giant cactus. i also heard of some pool table shenanigans...but i left before that awesomeness. anyway, i seriously need to start packing. but as i have mentioned several times before...i am a lazy girl. p.s. vodka and pink lemonade is NOT an awesome drink. i'm sticking with the prostitutes from now on.

SO LONG SUKKAS!!!
Current mood: freaky outy

That is RIGHT! A closing day has been SET! And the countdown begins...departure date Oct7th. LOOK OUT PORTLAND! holy shit i can't wait! so if you wanna see me, see me while the seeing is good. can't say i loved my time here in austin but i love most/some of you people so let's tear it up before i'm oregon bound!

WAS FUCKING AWESOME! i was sure that mike lived in a trailer, but no. his house is nice, almost creepily so. actually, very creepily so. anyway, THANKS MIKE! woo hoo! also, i accidentally created an awesome new mixed drink. half pink lemonade, half bacardi. sounds disgusting i know, but it is surprisingly DELISHUS. that's why i have named it the "teenage prostitute".

1. arrested for attempted murder. (innocent, OF COURSE!)
2. scared jerry garcia with a talking Hulk action figure at a toy store in SF.
3. got married in vegas on a dare. (paid off in spades!)

so...they're making a live action version of "where the wild things are".


...sorry, i kinda went blind for a second. this makes me want to move to a remote ice float in antarctica, knowing that global warming will melt it and i will soon drown.

and then BOOM...i found a FAT eight ball of cocaine, possibly/possibly not at work (i fail to see the need for any incrimination). no, i did not keep it. i actually co-found it and relinquished all finder's fees and related entanglements on the spot. i left it up to my co-finder (or co-find-ees) to distribute or destroy or abuse it as he/she/they saw fit. those days are over for me (le sigh*) but it was pretty exciting and i enjoyed being a co-criminal again, if only in the peripheral.

redwood city police report...

A man wearing a net on his head was swearing and bothering customers at a gas station on El in Camino Real Redwood City before 10:07 a.m. Monday, May 26.

phone exchange with potential customer earlier today:


me: "IKEA Bedrooms, this is Jamie. how can i help you?"

she: "yes ma'am, i'm calling about your beds?"

me: "yes, how can i help you?"

she: "i'm calling about your mattresses?"

me: "...yes. how can i help you?"

she: "do you sell indoor mattresses?"

me (momentarily struck): "...do you mean a pet mattress or a mattress for a bed frame?"

she: "yeah, a indoor mattress."

me (pauses) "um...you need an indoor mattress for your bedroom?"

she (exasperated at my stupidity): "a INDOOR MATTRESS, YES, a INDOOR MATTRESS!"

me (having had enough of this shit): "yes ma'am. we sell indoor mattresses EXCLUSIVELY!"

she hangs up.

which is all i wanted in the first place.

exchange with a customer last saturday:

she (reclining on a showroom bed, extremely pregnant, in a half shirt and short shorts sucking on ice cubes): "come here, over here miss."

me: "yes ma'am, how can i help you?"

she: " i know you don't know but, like, what are your beds made of? i mean, i know it's fake or whatever but what are they made of?"

me: "well, yes, most of our furniture is fiberboard and pressed wood but i can tell you that the bed you are sitting on is solid pine with a lacquer finish."

she (sighing heavily and rolling her eyes, melted ice water on her chin): "look if you don't know don't freaking lie, just tell me you don't know. it's fake. like pine is not real wood!"

me (having had enough of this shit): "well, i wouldn't let the trees hear you say that."

she (pausing...): "what?"

me: "the pine trees. i don't think they'd appreciate that."

she (looking at me with disgust) dismisses me with a wave of her hand.

which is all i wanted in the first place.

i just got the worlds cutest haircut. i'm not fucking joking. FEAR ME for my supreme cuteness is absolute, and shall consume all known life on earth. it's almost a curse, like medusa, one glance at my haircut and you will freeze in utter awe. a mere statue to stand and bask in my haircut glory. you will spend your whole life searching for anything that you might grasp in your meager human hands that matches the richness and robust bounty that is my new hair colour, created by italian beauty alchemists, but you will never find it. it is on my head, my perfect head, of hair.

yes...me.