the next forty

she lives

CurvyCurvz — Wed, 02 Aug 2006 01:26:30 GMT

I'm still here people. I'll try and post a real entry within the next coupla weeks.

Bound

CurvyCurvz — Sun, 12 Feb 2006 03:40:50 GMT

to happen I suppose. After all, I haven't really been the best tribe pal. My friends list has dwindled. In addition to the recent death of Curious Jim, 3 or 4 others have evaporated. I miss them, even though I've no idea who they were.

Jesus H Christ! What the fuck is that thing, is it dead and

CurvyCurvz — Sat, 04 Feb 2006 23:31:23 GMT

where the hell have I been anyway? How dare I even think I could abandon my beloveds for hours, day, weeks and even months on end? Apologies all around -- I have missed you too much. So here is the deal. I am completely obsessing over myself because. . . I BEEN SHRINKIN"! And no, not just a little shinkage - Cc has had 50 odd or so pounds melting off of this less substantial bod. I am looking too good and feeling even better. I supposed there's a little guilt because I am not focused on any form of activism or social justice these days. Couldn't even tell you what the big fucktards in Washington have been up to lately. Me? I've been taking all of my vitamins, eating tiny portions, working, back in school (yes -- again going after the last of the BA, but this should be it) and spreading all type of Sassy Fatty joy here in the windy city. I miss you people but I still cannot seem to stomach (eh- yeah) tribe's dweebie icky imposed rules. Yes, I am a spoiled one -- but damnation, if I wanna post a picture of my pinkened ass I should be able to do so without concern of scaring some white bread eating mormon scum. Oh wait, it was the mormon scum who paid me for that photo.

The smell of tribe

CurvyCurvz — Tue, 03 Jan 2006 23:48:28 GMT

I've just spent a completely wasted hour going through some of the pictures in my album in order to make them public, and still I've not gotten through all of them. Tribe has become a bore. I'ts been 2 weeks since I even checked in here. I wonder how many others find themselves in the same situation. I've been informed that the rat bastids who make the BIG decisions for tribe killed off one of the funniest characters I've ever come across here -- the illustrious fat girl avenger, may she rest in blubbery pieces. Jesus, you tribe anal assholes & little complaining, whining tribe toadies have ruined a good thing. Are you happy, NOW?

CurvyCurvz — Thu, 10 Nov 2005 05:07:12 GMT

what's your lucky number?

makes sense to me

CurvyCurvz — Thu, 03 Nov 2005 22:43:02 GMT

Picture this. . . The universe as one big angry toddler pissed off and tossing around humans like tinker toys some go into the mass murdering pile overflowing from a pile in the corner are the apathy driven - eh! who fucking cares?! another large stack are stuck together with insane religious promotions of rightness others go into the Sudden Infant Death Sydrome heap a small handful in chucked over onto a soft pillow of mother teresa-like goodness (add your own in) until it's grown into an angst filled, pissed off girl getting ready to relieve herself by sloughing off humanity like a painful menstral cycle

CurvyCurvz — Wed, 02 Nov 2005 23:42:45 GMT

the explosive amnesiac needy child stubbon rage crying 'don't-touch-me' and in side she's just wiped away blanked anything made disappeared in that moment a big big big lie takes over shades things tucks them in to embarassing cracks in the swirling dust of the only love she does right that running lonely smiling lost lust with a sprinkling she turns face up 'breathe hope' she hears "for another day you can try again baby don't cry try to be another day'

Evil Librarians

CurvyCurvz — Wed, 19 Oct 2005 11:05:21 GMT

Are all librarians cut from the same cloth? The year is 1980. Mrs. Finnerman was my high school librarian. She was old -- as in ancient, with a permeable scent of semi-sweet mold and powder swirling around her gray fly away hair. She maintained a pair of decent gams, which she showed off into her 70s, by wearing seamed stockings (no not panty-hose -- real stockings with garters -- picture it) and 3" spiked heels. She would totter around the library ranting under her breath about unkempt boys and their secret desire for her. On Monday mornings the place above Ms. Finnerman's upper lip was redder than her ruby lipstick from waxing. She over-used a dark brown eyebrow pencil and ate egg salad out of used margarine tubs. Mrs. Finnerman did not have a fondness for pubescent Cc. And who could blame her? After all, it was Cc and The Beast (a nickname for a fellow outcast who ran with my misunderstood girl pack) who were responsible for secretly tormented Mrs. Finnerman. The Beast and I had been biking to the lakefront when we spotted Mrs. Finnerman driving her late model station wagon down Sheridan Road. Giggling, and keeping her in eye-shot, we tailed her all the way home. After much hushed discussion, we crept along the side of her home and peered into the basement window. There we saw Mrs. Finnerman bent over a large RCA television box washing it with a steaming soapy sponge. Of course, we had seen enough. Armed with the knowledge that Mrs. Finnerman was insane, The Beast and I returned to school the next day and began a course of action which, in part, led to the demise of our wacky librarian. The RCA mascot, Nipper the dog, played a pivotal role in Driving Ms. Finnerman to the brink. I must choose not to say more at this point and time -- litigation could be pending. Anyway, Mrs. Finnerman began to show up in the library late and with the seams of her stockings off-center. Sometimes she even forgot to apply her lipstick and yellow mustard smears began to appear on the lapels of her polyester ladies-cut suit jackets. Some would say Mrs. Finnerman was ahead of her time. Me? I say the old dear was off her nut and a perfect form of entertainment for a misunderstood, midwestern wall flower. I was thinking about Mrs. Finnerman yesterday as I walked up rain soaked stairs headed for work. And, as the person gingerly stepping up behind me spoke, I turned slowly. . . For a split second, I thought I was looking into Finnerman eyes and memories poured into my head like soapsuds running down the side of a damp box flanked with cob webs. No, not Mrs. Finnerman -- she's been gone for many years. But in that moment, looking into the eyes of my school's librarian, I sensed the all-seeing, eternal dewy decimal system of periodically arranged, collective librarian all-knowingness.

What would Einstein Do?

CurvyCurvz — Mon, 03 Oct 2005 01:00:21 GMT

Last night I dreamed I was a passenger in a van being driver by Death. Paul Reiser, dressed as a heating and cooling repair man, was explaining his newest invention, the “Chilly-Smell-O-Meter” while hunched over in the backseat. Next thing I know, I hear the frightening “tee hee hee” laughter of GWB coming from the radio station as Death (who had morphed into a kind of mutant Phil Donahue character) turns to me and offers me a clown-sized cigar and says, “He shoots, he scores!” What do you make of it?

daddy and baby reel one in

CurvyCurvz — Thu, 15 Sep 2005 23:41:58 GMT

would you be surprised if it WAS real?

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MR. PRESIDENT

CurvyCurvz — Sun, 11 Sep 2005 18:14:57 GMT

Thanks for the memories, I made this just for you! I hope you like it! *smooch* your loving citizen, Cc

Curvy Cloned

CurvyCurvz — Thu, 08 Sep 2005 23:21:43 GMT

No comment's on my potential intestinal cut and paste? What's with all the quiet? And by the by --- Who are you? (ala Alice in wonderland) http://people.tribe.net/ed6aba49-4c2b-4a9a-a2dc-09a2e21345f6?_click_path=Application%5Btribe%5D.Person%5Bed6aba49-4c2b-4a9a-a2dc-09a2e21345f6%5D&r=10535 I been cloned!!! And speaking of Alice -- isn't she darling? :::crush crush:::: http://people.tribe.net/rebelkitti?_click_path=Application%5Btribe%5D.Person%5Bd708a663-a636-4276-afc3-cb0d9e8ed024%5D&r=10535 And speaking of crush -- orange or grape? And speaking of quantum physics and Fernwood Tonight. . . Wait -- that came from one of my many 'inside' voices~

Cc goes to school

CurvyCurvz — Fri, 19 Aug 2005 10:19:48 GMT

I am partial product of Chicago Public School system of the 1970s. Ms. Lelewski (Ms. L to most) was my 4th grade teacher. A prim,proper woman who wore dainty hats and gloves every day. She frequently lectured the girls, "ladies do not behave in such a manner." Mrs. L found me to be everything she disliked in a girl and often did not hesitate tell me so in harsh tones. I was the tallest kid in the class, a chubette, and had a wild sense of humor. I would burst into laughter and would often dash out of the classroom in order to make it to the 'little girls room' to avert certain humiliation. For this crime, I was sent to sit outside of the classroom on a regular basis. Toward the end of the year, Ms. L asked her students to write a composition entitled, "My Hero". She instructed us to choose a person, it could be someone famous, a historic figure, but not a family member (unless, of course, one of us had a family member who was famous or historic). I wrote about Tura Santa -- the original Bad Ass Bette and star of Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill! While I don't remember what I wrote, I do remember the sentiment behind my essay. I said I wanted to grow up to be like Ms. Santa because she was: tall -- like me strong -- like me dressed in black -- which I wanted to grow up to do could scare boys -- which I wanted to do ;) and finally because I didn't think she cared if anyone thought she 'behaved like a lady' My mother had to come to school for a conference. Evidently, mom smelled of booze when she arrived (or so I was told). I don't recall Ms. L giving me much of a hard time after that. And, I might add, I am the most unlady-like woman I know. Rock on Ms. Santana~

all about Cc

CurvyCurvz — Thu, 18 Aug 2005 06:15:00 GMT

listening to the song: ~raindrops keep falling on my head~ sometimes makes me cry

My Kind of Town Chicago Aint or Term limits for Chicago's Mayor? BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! Now that's a good one!

CurvyCurvz — Wed, 17 Aug 2005 10:21:42 GMT

Several of my pals have asked me, "Gee Curvy, why would you want to move out of such a fab glitter town?" Why? Read it here babies - ****************** Graft probe mushrooming in Chicago In terms of corruption, Second City seems first. By Jane M. Von Bergen Inquirer Staff Writer CHICAGO - At Schaller's Pump, a tavern in Mayor Daley country on Chicago's Southside, a man nursing a beer lays it out very simply. "People are greasing people," Dennis Ziomek said. "That's how it's done in Chicago." This city certainly has a rich history of scandal, including the 1980s Greylord scam, in which 17 judges were charged with case-fixing. In the 1970s, the Chicago Sun-Times and an advocacy group opened a bar, the Mirage, and recorded the stream of shakedowns. These days, the city is enthralled with a whopper, courtesy of U.S. Attorney Patrick J. Fitzgerald, the same tough prosecutor handling the investigation into the leak of a CIA officer's name. The latest scandal even incorporates a typical municipal corruption staple - the dead man. Usually, the deceased merely vote, as they have in Philadelphia. In Chicago, according to one indictment, a dead man got on the "winner's list" for a city job, even though the candidates had to be interviewed. Of course, Chicago is not the only American city awash in scandal. Philadelphia has its own problems, including federal probes that have put a former city treasurer in jail, yielded nine other convictions, and led to three new municipal indictments unsealed yesterday. What is especially impressive in Chicago is the sheer sweep of the latest scandal, known as the Hired Truck investigation. The probe got its name, and its start, as investigators looked into the city's truck-rental practices. Contracts, according to indictments, were given in return for kickbacks or as a reward to the politically connected. The investigation's scope widened into City Hall hiring practices, with dozens of cooperating witnesses now singing to save themselves from arrest. Eleven city officials are among the 22 convicted in the two-year investigation. In a sign of the political climate, a Republican leader has offered a $10,000 reward to anyone providing information that will help indict longtime Mayor Richard M. Daley, a Democrat. "You have a political culture which has never taken political corruption seriously, because so many people have benefited from it," said Jay Stewart, executive director of the Better Government Association, a group started in the 1920s to monitor mobster Al Capone's influence on Chicago's City Hall. "New Yorkers take a perverse pride in the rude nature of New York," he said. "In Chicago, there seems to be a perverse pride in corruption." Last week, a park official was accused of taking $137,000 in cash and gifts in return for awarding an $8 million contract to a Chicago business. "This is straightforward bribery," Fitzgerald said. "There's nothing subtle about it." Recently, a federal judge appointed a monitor to supervise all city hiring. "When you read through the criminal complaints that were filed in this case and the pleas that were entered, the sense of violation that I think anybody who loves the city has is almost overwhelming," U.S. District Judge Wayne Anderson said, according to the Chicago Tribune. Some of the latest indictments accuse officials who are just one thin administrative layer from Daley. The mayor's former patronage chief, Robert Sorich, has been charged with mail fraud. Daley is the son of Richard J. Daley, mayor from 1955 until he died in 1976, becoming the symbol of the Big City Boss. As in Philadelphia, the scandal in Chicago has stopped short of the mayor. Like Mayor Street, Daley has steadfastly denied any involvement in scandal, telling the Tribune: "I don't play any role in hiring. No, I don't. I never have." Tribune columnist John Kass finds Daley's denials laughable. "On the one hand," Kass said, "he has billed himself as the mayor who takes notes in his car about dilapidated buildings... . But on the other hand, he's denying knowledge about how the city runs. "He suffers from Fedheimer's - that's when the Feds are interested and you can't remember anything," Kass said. David Axelrod, a Chicago media consultant who counts as his clients Street and Daley, said that some of Daley's woes were inevitable. "Whenever you manage a big city and large bureaucracies in a political environment, there's always the chance that someone or some set of people are crossing the line," he said. "Unlike what people think because his name is Daley, he's not steeped in the machine," Axelrod said. "The so-called machine doesn't exist anymore." Or maybe it does. Officials in several city departments have been accused of making hiring decisions based on rewards for campaign work, not on merit, in direct violation of a long-standing court order limiting patronage. The indictments talk about a "political army" of city workers, who campaign for candidates favored by the mayor's office. "I was involved in the illegal hiring process at City Hall," said Daley political ally Donald Tomczak, a top deputy in the Water Management Department and the highest-ranking city official to plead guilty. On July 29, Tomczak said he was guilty of racketeering and mail fraud. He said his political army of water department workers reached 250. A typical scenario, according to indictments related to the case? There would be 50 vacancies in, for example, the water department. The unions would recommend 10 people, and city politicos would pick 40. Tests and interviews would be shams. Many indictments named people such as Tomczak, from Bridgeport, Daley's Southside neighborhood and political base. Doing his wash in a Bridgeport Laundromat, Harold Frost, 38, a truck driver who worked for one contracting company, said his boss would tell him to take his truck to a city location and just park it. The city would pay the company for nothing. "I hated it," Frost said. "I would have rather been home than just sitting there." His firm's owner was convicted in the scam. Frost said he campaigned for the mayor, partly in hopes of getting a city job. "But nothing ever came of that." Still, he likes Daley. "I think he's done a good job." Daley consultant Axelrod said the mayor's ratings had slipped from "stratospheric to merely good." He predicts another win for Daley in 2007. "I don't think he needs a patronage army to get elected," Axelrod said. Columnist Kass isn't so sure. With Fitzgerald running three corruption-investigation teams, Kass figures damaging news from indictments and trials will continue into the election season. Who knows where the investigation will go by then. "All cities are corrupt," Frost said. "There's nobody honest. Eventually they all get caught. It's just a matter of time. I don't care how slick you are."

BIG DUH!

CurvyCurvz — Tue, 16 Aug 2005 21:19:42 GMT

something has happened to my computer. suddenly, after i ran a virus scan, all of the text is ginormous! Is it because this fucking thing knows i am approaching the big 40 and wants to poke fun at the aging? perhaps my newest bud, curious jim's artifical intelligence friend (see jim's blog), who was hitting on me big time last night, has somehow infested my software. hmm -- kinky. anyway, i am putting an all points bulletin out there to those computer geeks who are reading this (because we all know full well they certainly aren't on the way to burning man) -- hep hep hep me! thank you in advance for your snidely remarks and assistance. the big Cc

Police Search of Backpack Yields Explosive Bestseller

CurvyCurvz — Mon, 15 Aug 2005 10:06:20 GMT

NEW YORK—Officers from the New York City Police Department evacuated the Union Square subway station and suspended all train service Monday after a random search of a passenger's backpack revealed an explosive bestseller. As of press time, bomb-disposal teams were still reviewing the threat. New York City Police Chief Raymond Kelly said officers performing bag checks at the southwest entrance to the station apprehended a Caucasian male in his mid-20s who was attempting to board a train carrying a small, brick-like object at 8:45 a.m. Kelly withheld the suspect's name and the title of the must-read page-turner. "The suspect has been charged with possession of a dangerously hard-hitting bombshell," Kelly said. "Still at large is the mastermind behind the plot. We intend to bring this co-conspirator into custody before he can strike again with a shocking sequel." He added: "It's possible that this thriller's devastating conclusion will hit like a ton of TNT." A blurb on the back cover of the novel has been traced to Deja Dead author Kathy Reichs. In the blurb, Reichs described the Union Square novel as "literary dynamite." Authorities would not comment on what, if any, charges Reichs faces. Although many blockbuster scares turn out to be nothing more than a ream of overheated typing with a menacing cover, officials said they are exercising great caution in handling this incendiary thriller. "We're keeping our eyes peeled for clever devices," NYPD bomb-squad leader Roy Czulewicz said. "But many bestsellers have been known to hold people captive for hours with rapid-fire prose. Once you pick them up, you suddenly find you can't put them down." The Union Square bestseller is the latest in a series of dramatic items discovered in New York since random subway bag searches began. On July 27, a hip-hop CD containing over 75 F-bombs led to the suspension of train service for 18 hours. And, on Aug. 2, a fiery burst of cinnamon freshness was discovered in a pack of Trident left on a Long Island Railroad car by perpetrators unknown. source: www.theonion.com

belly love

CurvyCurvz — Sat, 13 Aug 2005 10:49:53 GMT

a thread in one of the tribes i belong to prompted me to ask myself this question do i love my belly? truth? no - not really - not much at all it's pretty big and squishy too - not at all what i have been taught is supposed to be loveable in a belly and, even though i talk a pretty good rah! rah! about size positivism, which in my heart i know is the truth and right on i still have this creepy inside voice when i look in the mirror that says: wow - that is a really ugly gut - do something about that terrible thing my health is good - all vitals are within normal range, my MD hasn't ever asked me to loose weight i am strong and reasonably active i've been thinking again about the weight loss surgery - you know - that radical one throughout my life, on occasion, people have told me that i don't seem 'that fat' because of my heght - 6'1" people are so weird it's been hard to live in a society that tells me i don't fit in too fat too tall do shorter fat women have a better time of it? i doubt it i think about size oppression and sometimes feel perhaps i haven't a right to think it even exists - even though i know it does i mean, it isn't in the same as category racism, classism or sexism - is it? during a research seminar which i participated in i created a power point presentation and while i was speaking, behind me on a screen were projected the images of many fat women, mostly naked - some from the book: women en large all non-sexual poses i asked the audience to try to pay attention to their own reactions and reflect on them it was spectacular - exhilarating - and i vomited when it was over i recently posted, by request, my 1/2 naked ass, on a tribe now this image is on my tribe page - anyone could see/copy it, etc. it is stylized and anonymous i like having myself out there but it scares me too because, even though i would want to stomp down any person who messed with the well-being of someone i care about when i am attacked i get terrified and turn to stone i have been attacked emotionally and physically for being fat not so much anymore, or maybe it is because i don't notice it because i have attitude now no hunching or cowering ridiculously attempting to be smaller not bitchy attitude more confident and look you right in the eyes with a smile kinda attitude do you know what i mean? since i quit smoking my belly has grown a bit - or so say my jeans i dieted for over 30 years and i refuse to do it again i also binged and purged and starved myself that shit kills people! i know i am one in millions of women who have done the same why? this body hatred makes me so deeply sad why can't we be as big or wide or tall or little or narrow or short as we are without the struggle of facing the world with squared shoulders ready for whatever like holding your breath and waiting it is so tiring and many people have had it much worse than i what is it like to be fat, minority and living below the poverty level in this society? pre-judged from every angle there's one answer to why there is so much violence even though i am fat i have let this body go without nurture i need to connect with my belly and give it some belly love

pink lips silk slips

CurvyCurvz — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 12:16:15 GMT

what more could a girl want in this world?

Ow My Eye!

CurvyCurvz — Wed, 10 Aug 2005 07:05:06 GMT

my right eye has realy been irritated as of late. someone once told me that the eyeball itself has no pain receptors - that pain felt in the orbital area radiates from nerve endings attached to the cords, eye guts, etc. - yeah i know, ew from those squimishy friends but, is it true? perhaps i have some sort of creature, ala alien, growing in my head and feeding on the delicacy that is my eyeball stuff maybe some secret spy dude came in while i was sleeping and pulled a fast one, injection me with some crazy chuck barris type thought pattern and i am slowly become some half human half cyborg creature perhaps it's connected to the root canal/ear infection crap i've been experiencing. . . nah

Peter Jennings

CurvyCurvz — Mon, 08 Aug 2005 04:22:09 GMT

Lung Cancer Wow - seems like he just made the announcement that he had it. That was April and the last time he was on the air. Out of the three, Brokaw, Rather & Jennings, it was he I chose to watch during the Sept. 11th coverage - He seemed like a regular guy - Lung Cancer is a bad ass killer - Mr. Jennings was only 67 and smoked for decades. Fucking tobacco industry. 24 days without a cigarette here. Kinda puts things in perspective.

Andy Kaufman's 100 Bottles of Beer!

CurvyCurvz — Sat, 06 Aug 2005 11:51:45 GMT

"100 bottles of beer on the wall, 100 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 99 bottles of beer on the wall. 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 97 bottles of beer on the wall. 97 bottles of beer on the wall, 97 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 96 bottles of beer on the wall. 96 bottles of beer on the wall, 96 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 95 bottles of beer on the wall. 95 bottles of beer on the wall, 95 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 94 bottles of beer on the wall. 94 bottles of beer on the wall, 94 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 93 bottles of beer on the wall. 93 bottles of beer on the wall, 93 bottles of beer. 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If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 46 bottles of beer on the wall. 46 bottles of beer on the wall, 46 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 45 bottles of beer on the wall. 45 bottles of beer on the wall, 45 bottles of beer. 44 bottles of beer on the wall. 44 bottles of beer on the wall, 44 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 43 bottles of beer on the wall. 43 bottles of beer on the wall, 43 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 42 bottles of beer on the wall. 42 bottles of beer on the wall, 42 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 41 bottles of beer on the wall. 41 bottles of beer on the wall, 41 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 40 bottles of beer on the wall. 40 bottles of beer on the wall, 40 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 39 bottles of beer on the wall. 39 bottles of beer on the wall, 39 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 38 bottles of beer on the wall. 38 bottles of beer on the wall, 38 bottles of beer. Are you still here?? - 37 bottles of beer on the wall. 37 bottles of beer on the wall, 37 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 36 bottles of beer on the wall. 36 bottles of beer on the wall, 36 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 35 bottles of beer on the wall. 35 bottles of beer on the wall, 35 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 34 bottles of beer on the wall. 34 bottles of beer on the wall, 34 bottles of beer. 33 bottles of beer on the wall. 33 bottles of beer on the wall, 33 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 32 bottles of beer on the wall. 32 bottles of beer on the wall, 32 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 31 bottles of beer on the wall. 31 bottles of beer on the wall, 31 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 30 bottles of beer on the wall. 30 bottles of beer on the wall, 30 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 29 bottles of beer on the wall. 29 bottles of beer on the wall, 29 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 28 bottles of beer on the wall. 28 bottles of beer on the wall, 28 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 27 bottles of beer on the wall. 27 bottles of beer on the wall, 27 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 26 bottles of beer on the wall. 26 bottles of beer on the wall, 26 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 25 bottles of beer on the wall. 25 bottles of beer on the wall, 25 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 24 bottles of beer on the wall. 24 bottles of beer on the wall, 24 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 23 bottles of beer on the wall. 23 bottles of beer on the wall, 23 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 22 bottles of beer on the wall. 22 bottles of beer on the wall, 22 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 21 bottles of beer on the wall. 21 bottles of beer on the wall, 21 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 20 bottles of beer on the wall. 20 bottles of beer on the wall, 20 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 19 bottles of beer on the wall. 19 bottles of beer on the wall, 19 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 18 bottles of beer on the wall. 18 bottles of beer on the wall, 18 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 17 bottles of beer on the wall. 17 bottles of beer on the wall, 17 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 16 bottles of beer on the wall. 16 bottles of beer on the wall, 16 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 15 bottles of beer on the wall. 15 bottles of beer on the wall, 15 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 14 bottles of beer on the wall. 14 bottles of beer on the wall, 14 bottles of beer. 13 bottles of beer on the wall. 13 bottles of beer on the wall, 13 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 12 bottles of beer on the wall. 12 bottles of beer on the wall, 12 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 11 bottles of beer on the wall. 11 bottles of beer on the wall, 11 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 10 bottles of beer on the wall. 10 bottles of beer on the wall, 10 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 9 bottles of beer on the wall. 9 bottles of beer on the wall, 9 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 8 bottles of beer on the wall. 8 bottles of beer on the wall, 8 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 7 bottles of beer on the wall. 7 bottles of beer on the wall, 7 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around - 6 bottles of beer on the wall. 6 bottles of beer on the wall, 6 bottles of beer. Move along - There's nothing to see here - 5 bottles of beer on the wall. 5 bottles of beer on the wall, 5 bottles of beer. If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 4 bottles of beer on the wall. 4 bottles of beer on the wall, 4 bottles of beer! 3 bottles of beer on the wall. 3 bottles of beer on the wall, 3 bottles of beer!! If one of those bottles should happen to fall - 2 bottles of beer on the wall. 2 bottles of beer on the wall, 2 bottles of beer!!! Take one down and pass it around - 1 bottle of beer on the wall. 1 bottle of beer on the wall, 1 bottle of beer!!!! Take it down and pass it around - NO MORE bottles of beer on the wall!!" COMING SOON: "A THOUSAND BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL"

rhinotillexomania

CurvyCurvz — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 10:06:31 GMT

Today my stats professor took my anxiety level down several notches when she told me that I was indeed going to pass the class with at least a C! Now, I will shoot for a B and see what happens. There I am, walking on air -- well, walking on birkenstocks, crossing the campus in the humid, pollution action day, sick heat of Chicago, entering the B wing where the good computers are located. I was feelin' pretty good. Preeeeeeeeeeeeetty preeeeeeeeeeeeeety good (for those Curb Your Enthusiam fans). Meanwhile, I took a seat outside the lab to study for the Geology exam which was to take place within half an hour. Then I noticed him. He presented himself to me and time became a seemingly never-ending moment of can't-keep-looking-but-can't-turn-away freakiness. A man in cut-off below the knee, stained khaki pants, with 70's style gym class tennis shoes (the kind no kid wanted to wear - as iI remember), and overly starched white-white dress shirt and a funk smell of mold coming from his plastic beck's bookstore bag filled with rank newspapers. He asked me for a napkin. I didn't have a napkin and told him so. He stood over me a picked and enormous boogery mass out of his right nostril and put it into his pocket. Then he giggled. This is not a joke! 7 days to the end of my undergrad experience. I wonder if he has a collection?

CurvyCurvz — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 07:36:53 GMT

20 days without a smoke. I wonder how much weight I have gained. Only one more week of classes before I'll be a college graduate. Hard to believe I've actually done it - even harder to digest that I have been accepted to a fabulous graduate school for my MSW. Feels, in many ways, as if I am posing as deserving of such an honor. Hell, I know I worked for it. At times I have had a feeling of dread I was going to be exposed as fraud -- that somehow graduating and getting into grad school has been some huge error on the part of those in charge. Whew -- head is working overtime. My last graduation was at age 13 -- 8th grade. I left HS at the beginning of my junior year in order to go to work. Shortly thereafter, I moved out of my parent's apartment. Mom's needy alcoholism combined with dad's rage and heart condition made for enormous drama and chaos. I felt pushed to the eye of the storm. I was stoned and drunk a lot of the time then and I left in order to save myself. I was 17. Back to searching for a point to this little piece of my head~ I have avoided, at great lengths, working out what is going on for me so I can get over myself and move on. I mean, look at the ways in which I have almost completely fucked up these last two classes! That is all about fear of feeling my successes. When I told my mother I was accepted to UoC she said, "That's wonderful. How are you going to pay for it?" "Well Mom, I was planning to sell crank on the lakefront." No, I didn't atually say that - but I wanted to for sure. Mom is old and sick -- I continue to do the work to forgive her. Dad has been dead for over a decade. I think he would have been proud of me. When I was a child I was hurt terribly. My mother has always pretended it never did happen. She reacted with an enormous fear that took up all of the available space for me, or anyone else in the family, to feel and process. Everyone was looking to her to know how to act. It was after that time she began to keep me at arm's length emotionally. I doubt she could have managed to stay unless she did so. My head has made some sense of her behavior, my heart still wants. Wants a mothers's nod of approval, that smile of pride. Still, I hope she will want to see who I am someday.

she's singing

CurvyCurvz — Wed, 03 Aug 2005 05:44:28 GMT

the words of the dead man sealed my mouth my eyes blurred in red blood rage the fist of a the unreal man against my face my screams inhaled in terror the touch of the love man traces my back i allow the comfort the ancient future smiles and skips beside me she's singing - let go -- hold on -- it's alright