from happyrobot - updated 6/19/2013 10:56:45 AM http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp en-us http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8495 sigh.

i shan't write you again unless he comes. i do not like cutting your shoulder off from me, but i must be strong and not give you so much of me. i need to put my clothes and jewels on. you know what i mean.

another condition is that he must make me feel happiness, trust, transparency, fairyland, forest, honeysuckle, collard green, tomato-based georgia barbeque from Fresh Air Barbeque on 40 towards macon from atlanta,
the oculmulgee river.
you know the drill.
solstices
honeymeade and heat secret messages through astral mysteries. alone together maybe even at one. i don't know. i've never done this before.
i let go.
i cut.

waste of meine time.
liar uder koward uder Lieberchen.
lovers
a choice.

i love him.
i don't really know who he is or whether i would like him, or even his sex.
we've only been exploratory, and i am brewing with witchcraft to draw him JETZT to mich. it's silly. i know stu. i know soldier brave patrick.

fuck fuck fuladfhjasdhfas]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8482 "Mommy, what was it like before you could record teevee?"


So, just realizing that am surrounded/surround myself with men who LOVE gadgets. Well 'surrounding' might be too hard of a word - my stepfather (can I call him Terry to you yet?) and Mark have it the same way (footnote - both share b-day of 7.15 making them join the 10 person club I know - marty roupe anyone? but that's a whole other story...)

My mother and I - I now realize - treated it the same way (with our respective husbands): cautious indulgence.

So, it's circa 1979. We had just moved to marietta. mother had just been saved by the young man - terry - and this was their first anniversary of note (or at all, i forget, i was a kid with my own 'problems'). She was a teacher, but put something called a "VCR" on layaway for him. It was like some CRAZY fee of $1000 or $2000 or $4000 dollars. It was the kind with the dial you turn, etc. Blockbusters were just gleams in entrepreneurs' eyes. The delight was to record your television and watch it later. He loved it. She got a diamond watch (as an aside, this morning, i've a new motto: blood oranges instead of blood diamonds.) They recorded "Sound of Music" and "Grease" (and bought some Emmanuelle tape) and bob's your uncle.

I know the words to sound of music and grease by heart, and there's still a scene in emannuelle i can call up if needed for mastaboratorial services.

--

How My Family Went Mac.

Usually, I'm a shrew with money.

We needed a new computer. Mac's were twice as expensive as PC, and mark was trying to talk himself into staying pc for practical reasons. then he showed me the ad for the new cube.

We bought it two months after it "rested". I fucking felt like I fell about furniture about it. I told him. Damn the expense, it's a work of art.

I'm looking at her right now. She's what - eight years old. I love you cubey (sorry your monitor was such a bitch to move and store because I love it too, but shit. i don't know... one day...)

and that's all the stories we have time for this morning folks. back to your day. quit looking at me now.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8478 It began with a eleven o'clock call from a Lover (two hours late from the promised time to call, but I'm not that kind of girl).

It ended with a blue-balled goodbye - likely a dramatic dumping.

--

but ahhhhhhh the Middle Part meinenen Kindernen...

I arrived amid drama, bad directions, and brought along my friends pomp, circumstance, and surprisingly (as I am never "holding") weed.

My Mann was dashing, beloved, appreciative, and randy.
All good, good, good.

I was festive. Nothing was refused. Everything was celebrated. I felt free and comfortable in the promise that this tease of socialization would end in fabulous, ecstatic love-making. It was all tremendously easy. The kristen party machine was on without judgement. I reveled. I made merry.

No regrets on attending (even though, had I not, I may still have a chance to make-a da Love). One, I met so many stellar people (my lover is discerning in his friends - good good). Two, the accents were peachy. Met someone from georgia (milledgeville), met a south african who was living in georgia (helen - land of oktoberfest), met someone I named "Lil' Beck" who was well-mannered (another defecting ohioan), loving, kind, generous, a fellow artist, excellently versed in music, etc. etc. Met a girl who hugged me because when you told me that the boobs I had just complemented were fake, I expressed non-plussed-ness and replied "whatever. they look GREAT - perfectly proportioned. excellent breasts." Later I made her listen to "bitches ain't shit" off my ipod.


Three, (rule of threes), I learned that my lover was not a jumper - but rather a coward and/or a liar. Luckily, I have both made these rounds (fallen in love then boom - bye bye crazy girl), and appreciate myself and have an inner strength that is solid and unwavering (danke therapy). I made myself a rule that I could stalk and contact die Mann until SUNDAY - then I was to call it a day and move on. My heart knows now that pain delayed make ms. martin very very strange and dirgelike.

Anyhoo, back to the party. There was tons of ecstasy. I did a double-take when the drug dealer said that he had some. Egads! I haven't done ecstasy in 2 years. bring it on good perveyor of merriement and peace. Hours later, I have appointed Lil' Beck as the captain of the "Safe Room" and myself as the cruise director. I feel strongly about a safe calm room for ecstasy. Some blond girl had left the door open, and I stated the one rule was that the barrier must remain. She asked how strongly I felt about it - in a playful? way? I replied that I would fight her for it. She said to bring it on. I immediately sharply pushed her out of the way and slammed the door. It did not stay open again. good good.

Later, there are only six people left at the party - all men younger than me. The rabblerouser, the drug dealer, my lover, lil' Beck, Gawain my Good Knight, and Bob the Bruce (sud-afrique besten freund de meines fucking lieber). My lover gets angry with me. I suppose - upon mining my meories - it could have been that I told him that he had a monkey on his back Brother.
It could have been that he couldn't control me. It could have been that he thought I was an asshole. It could have been that I was averse to having a menage a trois with his Brother. Nonetheless, the end result is that I see him with a lovely latina woman who was reputed to have the white dragon. fuck. fuck. fuck. he's gone. five are left. I travel like lil' red riding hood from the beds of lil' beck, then Gawain, then landing inevitably in the bed of Bob the Bruce. The beds were all top-shelf BTW. The men were all honourable and stated that I was lovely and undeserving of such treatment (earlier in the night Gawain my Good Knight defended my honour to my lover and said how disrespectful he was being to me. my lover stalked out.)

Except for my lover's 18 year best friend. He was different. I pathetically landed in his bed as I knew I would because - as I pathetically admitted - "you are my only connection to D. I will stay with you for that reason". He pretty much tried to rape me. I laughed. As if! When he stated later in the night that I could "suck his cock", I fucking-offedly replied "oh thanks... [pause]... if I loved you, I would take your cock with lovingly and willingly in my mouth and suck it with shared pleasure." He pretty much stopped mauling me after that - or was too tired. I cried in the bed - let them all out dear little Fool. It's good that you tried.

The next day, everyone left but Lil' Beck and I. We listened to Nick Drake, smoked his pot (mine was gone within 45 minutes of passing the Dutchy on the left hand side...). It was a gorgeous day. We watched the bees, seperated with our music, got back. He touched my feet and legs. We talked like people who have been apart for years. I hope I'm not arrogant in interpreting his sighs and utterances as declarations that he would gladly except my troth. Fuckit. Pretty much any of them would have. fuck fuck fuck.

Bob the Bruce was redeemed after I ripped him a new one for his treatment of me in the hypocritical face of having "south african culture and nobility".
I rather could fall in love with him if it happened.

I just want to have fun. sincerely.

Everybody love me babe but you.

Sunday.
Texted D. about fifty times.
Went to lie in the sand with my ipod and red vintage bathing costume.
It was fine.
I'll be fine.
It was very very very lovely.
I do not regret one thing.

It's good to fast forward on people. Wastes less time.

Jumping.
Will likely fall and die then realize i'm actually alive and climb up the fucking cliff alone.

no matter.

love, peace, and harmony.
maybe in the next life. maybe in the next life.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8464 AKA. some things I know about Rich - our creator (I realized I didn't do shit for his birthday... oh THERE's a good one to start on...)

1. He's not so hot with acknowledging gag birthday gifts from people who have known him for years.

2. I have known rich since i was 24.

3. rich likes sushi - a lot

4. rich is low drama as in 'no drama'. the range i've seen is cranky bitchy to silly goofy drunky

5. when in rome, rich will smoke dope and drink schlitz ice

6. i'm high drama, so rich and i often "disagree". when i'm pissed at him, I call him dick - or more fully - dick pukeahanan.

7. he gropes his wife in public and talks about loving to make love to her as much as my tipsy stepfather does about my mother.

8. he was born and raised in asheville, north carolina

9. he's real into bikes and cars

10. i remember his birthday by the pneumonic device that it falls after groundhogs day.

11. rich once got stopped by London Metro Security (pre 9.11 thank gods)

12. rich loves npr and will quote it for you non stop.

13. rich stupidly loves 'surferosa' over 'doolittle' (he's WRONG).]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8463 I guess Jesus did this (and Odin I suppose)...

I just remember SCREAMING "I suck it up. I TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM all the time. Do you think i [blah blah bigh arguement stuuf]"

Even as I was saying it, I thought "righto, old gal... apt turn of phrase."

now to fags and coffee. good am.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8462 A nice friend gave this card saying just that on my birthday celebration - drinkies at Ye Olde King's Head in Santa Monica. I was touched. She gives good gifts. I have the card on my refrigerator right now. I've had it on both of my refrigerators. I love it.

Leap and the Net will appear.

Oh Kindernen, I leap. I think I've died.
I realize I am thusly alive and somehow crawl up the fucking cliff to fucking jump again and fucking die and fucking crawl back up again. So, I'll suppose I have to do it without having Other hold my hand "one, two, three", we smile and grasp hands and leap - like that fucking beautiful ending in crouching tiger (hidden dragon).

fuck.

I am beautiful when I am in the state of Love. this is fucking irony as only senseless others see it. My Lover (if such a fucking thing even fucking exists) has thus far NOT revelled in any sort of wonderous starlight I might emit.

then I turn fat and depressed.
tu joust. du lost. tu joust, du winnest, du joust.

waiting]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8461 ah well, his loss i tell myself (with a glimmer of belief in this silly cliche).

--

When Mark and I were looking for our first apartment (thank you infinity willheim und fido), it was hell. First we tried to do the no fee thing. Silly humans.

Anyway, we were told to play up that we were from the South.

Fido: People in New York think people from the South are polite and sweet
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8460 steve fox and i used to argue about how we could stop all this shit. we would go back and forth - him with elections and congress and voting machines, and me with 'vote with your dollar. be the change'.

Long story short, I buy my gas at Shell Oil.

Steve Fox once called (on mark and my last trip to ILM ensemble) and asked mark to hand the phone to me. Mark and I exchanged a look - steve fox disliked me a bit... so, i tentatively say "hello"

steve: you're right. i just wanted to tell you. i think voting with your dollar is da bomb. btw, i buy my gas at shell oil because they are the absolute only gas company that didn't donate to the bush tragiclection.
]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8459 Enuf said.

JE is from NC for gawds sake. And faggots rock anyway.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8445 Statistically Solstice Creator has noticed a marked decline in female participation on my lil' column (not that i need/care about/want comments).
In the beginning, there were many females to comment on me.

I need a BIG loan from the Girl Zone.

Currently, I would estimate the percentages - averaging over the last three or so months:

a full 90% male.

I'll stand by that and not judge... just curious to me.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8444 So pathetic am I that I even looked on missed connections...wondering if that oh that would be a communique. (it's not him.)

---

craigslist: la: missed connections

--

What If...
Reply to: pers-289574178@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-03-06, 3:05PM PST


we were destined to love one another until the end of time...


  * Location: fairytale ending
  * it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests


PostingID: 289574178]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8443 Oh of course. I marched in two of the 2001/2 Peace Marches in DC. I wrote postcards to my city, state, presidential Officials. I wrote Letters to the Editor. It was a chore, but I did it because I love my country (the one I learned about in school in Georgia USA c. '79 - '93). I LOVED the United Nations. I adored Kennedy, Roosevelt, Eisenhower, F. Roosevelt, Truman. I WORSHIPPED the Supreme Court - that guy with the native american name, thurgood marshall... other people studied about in me education.

anyhoooo, what I'm writing about is fuck all that shit that got me nowhere (but tremendous sense of duty and spiritual mission deeds ((i'm crazy.)) and buddha). I loved that I did it. It was so sweet of me. Who knows if I've affected ANY person in a healing way in my entire thirty-five years? However, bless my pea-pickin' heart. I love the planet. I love peace. I love transparency. I love equality. I love fundamentalism (i could go paragraphs, but i'm hungry for a fag).

All that well and good, but how very amazing and wonderful that TIME MAGAZINE put - on their cover - a picture of a succelent apple with the headline "forget organic, eat local".

(and "inconvenient truth" won an Oscar.

g'night.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8442 What's that flower you've got on?
Could it be a golden rose from days gone by?
And, did I hear you say that you were a-meetin' here today - to take you to that mansion in the sky?
Delta Dawn. What's that Flower You've Got On?

--

fuck me. fuck fuck fuck. i am like a fucking living incarnation of fuckitty fuck fuck...lil' delta dawn.

My instinct misfiring again?
indeed. oh god.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8441 First off, it's OK to use his whole name. My friend Mike, is unnnnnnnnnnnlllliiiiiiiissssssstttteeeeed (all caps and loads of exclamation points).

Our first meeting was (as HE remembers it, i don't recall ((in our intimate friend circle, I call Mike "the elephant memory - the archivist))...) on the grassy quad of Reed Hall Dormitory in Athens, Georgia USA circa 1889.

I confess, I'm a junkie for people's first impression/memory of me, mich, moi.

Mike says I was walking across the Quad to Baldwin Hall and he was walking back with his friend dave byrd (who could be killed in iraq for all i know. he was r.o.t.c. to pay for college, and he CHANGED because of this. it killed any slight slight chance of his being a poet... that and being from Hinesville, Georgia.). They were friends from high school. mike was on a visit. (I later learned he had yearned all his seething smiths-filled, pixies, filled, shayna sinnrich ((the town's one jewish family. he was a judge he was.)).


Mike is gay, so it was an odd and bloodforeverbond kinship. Shayne lived briefly in wilmington. she went rather mad. got in the middle of kent and i (yes, i did delicately delicately lovingly try to make her understand to cool her heart that he really wasn't over me yet and that she would get hurt as he would use her because he knew the fascination i had with her beauty, style, aura, artistness ((she went to prestigious atlanta school of the arts as a painter. her work was/is brilliant. i loved shayna and was JEOLOUS green-monstered towards her.) she went months later (after I had left them and moved with mark, my future husband for those of you catching up, with our tribal move of north carolinan's rachel and rich.) through a plate glass window. she now works in an office at her dad's place. she's on lots of medication and has cracked. she's gone later-period zelda/sylvia. mike (last I heard. mike and I only talk about once a year now and that is enough. all we get is good and we have lived eighteen years as family, waxing and waning is good. or more accurately. we love each other. we are family. we do what we do and each other can change the relationship at any time.)

I love him. we have soooo many catchphrases - "memes" i've recently learned they're called.

"i'll be light blaq."

"that hole ain't gonna dig itself grandma."

we have songs that we love in common and both - when we love a song - have admitted that we play it nearly twenty times in two days, or more!

anyhoo, short story long:

we have a phrase that I think I coined:

"sayin' it and doin' it are three different things sugar."

---

too true.

love.
black for mourning.

still, i have trust.
i must be very strong to be only going this crazy. believe it or not, this writing helps me focus and clear my thoughts. i'm writing slowly to pass time slowly and will shortly go chain smoke my remaining cigarettes, and if I still need more nicotine before I head off to my women's group at six forty-five perimedus meridas - then i shall fuck well walk to the fucking cigarette dealer and pass the fucking beautiful seashore and

fuck him.
fuck fuck fuck fuck him.
for saying it and NOT doing it.

bitterly, i must confess i feel this is a second time in a row such a thing/mann has come into my sphere. all this and i must suffer because i believe words and believe in that unnameable

X factor.

jesus christ mary goddess assistez-moi si te plait.

===

Mike and My favorite going out to music (well the longest running one) - Our band we played before we would walk out the door to show the town our fabulousness and know that you don't care because you have friends and they are walking right beside you. - ?

was the Pixies.

more specifically, "Le Le Love You" (although of course, "Hey" and "No. 13" were big ones too.

ok, fags.

P.S. Mike wrote on this happyrobot site (at my urgent urging because i LOVE his writing) for a spell. You can look him up as "Grey Green Gospel". agape.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8440 So, I don't know if you'll think this is dorky obsessive with you...

this morning as I was awakening at seven thirty-ish to a cloudy dawn, I was filtering through my dreams and remembering that they were about work and that my friends had been in a plague, kristen had died/gotten real sick and jungle was having an affair with a gray-haired older resistance leader, mostly was being asked to do things at work that i should do happily but that i was so resentful of because it cut away from my 'me' time... blah blah blah.

I thought about starting the day and said suddenly OUT LOUD:

"Happy Birthday Rachel Hepler" (my goodness, i've known you 80% - and dropping - per cent of my time as rachel hepler and it rhymes like kristen martin to me, so i hope you don't mind that that's what I think of "your name" when I think of it.).

"Happy Birthday Rachel!" (I may not have said your last name - coffee not kicked in yet).

Padz whrowwenced and we went to the kitchen (me to put water on to boil).

I surprised Padz and did a rare MORNING "whooooo want wet!?" and gave her some because, as I told her: i'll treat her

because rachel would want me to.

Happy Blasto my dear dear cherished treasured family/friend.

xxxooo

now back to our reqularly scheduled program of self-pity and fag smoking and]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8434 I'm sitting on the couch faded thanks to:

matt reedy - this guy who stops by and sees trek and i from time to time ... blah blah blah... was telling me a story about getting three tickets on the way over to the gallery.

I gasped. "WHAT!" probably tapping him whilst saying it with wide, astonished (but oh, genuine my loves...oh so genuine) beautiful eyes (earlier I had asked him if he could tell i'd been crying all night. he replied "no". I expressed sad relief. ((we talk of love most of all...)).
Short story long..

it was really 3 violations on one ticket: seat belt, expired plates, and lack of insurance proof. He said the seatbelt one was unfair - but that he didn't push it because while he was looking for everything, he obviously opened the center glove box - and whiffed... reeking fumes of marijuana, and immediately rolls the windows up - blessing that the cop is doing shit on his ticket thing. He commented how relieved he was that it was on the pch and a breezy summer (hot! yay!) day...dropping notions of arguing the seat belt issue.

Matt: ... and I hardly ever smoke pot. this was some that a friend of mine happened to give me this morning. He's from england and he claims it so good. he claims 'mate, the american pot just doesn't do it for me.'

Kristen: [INTERJECTING SADLY AND WEARILY AND EAGERLY] Give it to me then. I love pot. god, I could use pot.

Matt: You want some, it's not much but you can have half?

Kristen: Are you sure? I could pay you.

Matt: Of course. of course. i want to give it to you.

kristen: i know. i have been downing clonipriam - i took TWO full pills last night and have had a headache for two days - a noise in my head that is like electrical brain tinnitus. thank you. thank you so much...

LATER WALKING BACK FROM CAR.

Kristen: jesus matt, you've still got the red stickers. we're all about green now baby.

---

Fortune's Joke is a cute little nickname I've come up for myself as I'm about to go chainsmoke on the couch (after writing this natch).

-

I've never wanted children.
NEVER.
I remember thinkin as a child of thirteeen and seeing what babysitting and responsibility and hell of having children did to my family and vowed 'never to have children. i will never have children because i HATE my MOTHER so much!!!' . I may have even screamed it... knowing my mother would hear it. who knows. i was sensitive but so passionate - like now.

now, i have confirmed my hypothesis that love relationships are like chemistry: two elements come together and form maybe an ionic, covalent, or that other bond... some produce another element from this fussure. some just bond.

I am telling you stories.

Now, I am evolved to a "maybe".

there. you've got me creeping fucking dna and hormones and peer pressure (and maybe maybe -0.3342 % chance - Love.)

Anyhoo, sitting on the couch earlier (getting stoned and smoking a fag on my lunchbreak from arbeit) I was touching and pinching my soft pot belly. other parts of my body lose blubber and become muscular. my ass is firm fat. my stomach is soft fat.

I have very wide hips. I do yoga. I eat very well (about to enjoy a cup of unadulterated "authentic" green tea). .. i have saggy full teats...

i'm mad as a hatter.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8433 Nice. Like it so far. Rachel's birthday on Wednesday. Ansel Adams calendar very nice - trees this month (last month rocks).

I pick up trash on the beach but not on streets. When I owned a home, I cleaned the trash in front of my house - and once - when a but nuts/manic - picked it up in front of sandy's house. I think trash is ugly. It distracts from nature's beauty. How controversial of me. And actually, I would love to walk down the pacific and NOT pick up trash, but then I think of the dolphins and harp seals and just go "fuck" and pick it up. Sometimes, I'll do two trips up the soft sand to the trashcans and just say "dude, I'm off duty." but then I'll see styrofoam (NOTHING gets me like styrofoam in the sea), and pick up that. Sometimes I don't see styrofoam and can just look at the ocean and love it so much that my fucking soul gets a pat.

Here I am.

I had another dream last night that everyone hated me. This is getting recurring throughout my life. I call it a nightmare.

I'm not explaining my dream because I already wrote my therapist about it and dreams are boring to people who don't like you... and my readers are not necessarily the most "caring"... even though opinions are always nice - any feedback - even voices of reason and shit.

sigh. sigh. 'tis monday. nice.]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8426 Once, about two years ago... jane and I used to frequent a U2 tribute band like fucking crazy. we oodled. it was like being at a concert! they rocked (see previous entries).

anyhoo, long story short, I have an account on a U2 fan website (www.interference.com) that is apparently still current.

I was amazed when I signed up.
The name "mrs. bono" wasn't taken.

Guess who took it?]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8425 I have nothing to say even though I wrote to you.

"love in vane" by the stones is now on. I love all versions of this song (of course, jeesbus, dylan's "you're a big girl now" floored me ... floors me... )

I digress.

It's not the version I really like (I downloaded it from itunes). It sucks because I have to always cringeingly wait until mick fucks up and makes them start it again.

There is a version that I LOVE somewhere. I just haven't yet remembered to buy the album or search thoroughly and again and buy another version from the eye tunes.

rambling on...

your pal,
kristen]]> http://www.happyrobot.net/words/solstice.asp?id=8424 My olde love songs on my ipod mean something different to me now.

love.

hook
line

oh goddess
oh goddess
oh goddess
forgive me

i know nothing.

amen


===

my readers. sigh.

you play. you win. you play.
you lose.
you play.]]>