Archive for the adventure Category

the golden day

Posted in adventure, interactions, life, relationships, values with tags , , , , , , on November 7, 2008 by staticity

When I think back
On all the crap I learned in high school
It’s a wonder
I can think at all
And though my lack of edu—cation
Hasn’t hurt me none
I can read the writing on the wall

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colors
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world’s a sunny day, Oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama don’t take my Kodachrome away”

Tonight was probably the best night of my life. When I was in high school I used to look at a slide projector in my math class and wonder if it was as bored and stuck as us students. Even now I’m convinced that objects in life have feelings.
This one guy used to come into my remedial math class late every day. He would slouch against the door way and say ‘Don’ be so mad misses. Y’know what happened to me?” He’d laugh and lean way back in a chair to tell us all a story. “Well, I’ll tell you, but you gotta swear not to tell nobody. ALright, well I was just ‘borrowing’ my sisters car keys this morning when I saw something funny from the window. I looked out and I swear to God, Swear it! I saw two men in dresses and football helmets just looting my neighbors house! I Couldn’t have none of that… I spent all my morning in a grand fight with those queens. Damn i never knew such good looking boys could fight!”
The teachers gave up on him. They eventually just enjoyed listening to his stories and the rest of us had someone to make us smile. No more slide projector feelings for us in math. That guy quit quit high school halfway through the year and no one saw him again.

When I quit, I wrote out my memories of that math class and all the people in it. There was the guy who played with puppets in the back row. The guy who didn’t speak english but knew the words ‘flower power.’ There was the girl with the earrings we all fit our fists into.
I hung the piece of writing on my wall and called it my introduction to life outside the box. it was my certificate of high school education until tonight.

Tonight was a celebration. Tonight was mexican food, margaritas, family.

the water closet

Posted in adventure, interactions, life with tags , , , , , , , on October 21, 2008 by staticity

The Water Closet.

2001

“Fuck him! Fuck him to death!” A girl covered in long, black, gauze, screamed through an empty hallway. Her wrists were bruised and her eyes were dark with mascara running to escape down her cheeks. She punched the door to her mom’s closet before looking up and realizing I was still standing with her in the empty house of her mothers.

“I’m sorry, let me just take a shower and I’ll feel better.” My friend of two weeks, appologized with a flat voice lingering through the hallway.
I watched her disappear into the bathroom with the antique bath tub that had claws built into the bottom of it and a shower nozzle connected to the back wall. Before enough time had passed, I heard her climb into the tub and turn the water on.
I knocked on the door to see if she was okay. No answer. I knocked again, a little louder this time.

“Come in.” She said in a voice that seemed to waver a little with the water.
I walked into the bathroom to find her crouched in the bathtub with all her clothes on and freezing cold water pouring down from the shower nozzle. Her hair hung in wet, messy, black, strands and her fists were clenched with rage and empty confusion. She looked up at me from her crouched position and started a slow, weak, smile across her face. She motioned her arms around the bath tub and looked up hopelessly to the shower nozzle.

“It’s the only thing that really works for an angry day.”

_

2004

In high school I was at a party with a girl I had known briefly through other house parties and lunch at school. I pulled out a couple pills of ecstasy and gave one to ‘Rose’ so she could enjoy the night that was turning more and more magical by the minute. The boys were dancing to techno music in the kitchen and soon we were in the middle of it all, clutching the fake, white, fur collars we had wrapped around to protect us from winter. It was too hot to care anymore.
Rose and I felt our way to the bathroom so we could slow down for a minute. I fished out a strobe light from the other room and plugged it into the darkness. All we could see were flashes of each others faces and bodies as we sat side by side on the blinking bath tub.
“We should take a shower.” I giggled. “A strobe shower.”
“Yes!”  She switched on the faucet until drops were like glitter, blinking from the strobe flashes every second.

We undressed, not caring about who knew we were in the bathroom or what we were going to say to each other at school the next morning. We danced to the music playing loudly in the kitchen and whipped our hair around to shake off the loose water glitter that fell around us.

Rose smiled, extending her arms to the faucet. “This is perfect.”

.

_

2007

In a dingy house with sewage problems and hijacked morals, I slowly turn on the shower faucet and survey the status of our bath tub. The tub is slowly disappearing through the floorboards and it’s only a matter of weeks before I fear it will slip through completely to the dining room.  I imagine myself naked and sprawled over the slightly moldy tub, trying to figure out why I was in the dining room with all the squatters who stayed downstairs for free.

I hop into the shower for approximately five minutes every day. I don’t want to touch the sides of the bath tub for fear of some sort of cakey dirt or bug rubbing against me. Two bottles of expensive shampoo with a perfumed scent sit slightly opened on the edge of the tub. They aren’t mine, I know they must be my roommates. She’s into hard drugs and lives in the same filth we do, but there is something always clean about her. Even if she won’t dare take a shower in the filthy bathroom, she always smells nice.

The bathroom door opens hurridly and slams with the same abrupt force. I peer out of the shower curtain to see my roommate eagerly pull out a dish of powder makeup and some eye liner from inside one of the cabinet drawers. With out hesitating to wonder why the shower was running in a supposedly empty bathroom, she brushed the powder on to her face quickly.  I stop the shower faucet and grab a towel that is hanging on a metal rack.

“Jesus!” My roommate screams and spins around. “Christ! I didn’t know you were in here. I’ll get out.” She grabs her makeup from the sink counter and heads for the door.
“No, it’s okay… we’re only in the bathroom…” I try calling after her, but she has already disappeared, leaving only a scent of clean air to linger with the dirt.
_

2008

A girl with brightly dyed hair sat almost completely hidden underwater in her bath tub. A window was built right in front of the shower which seemed odd considering she lived in the city. There was no escaping the window, no curtains, no place to hide, but no real care either. She sat with out bubbles and englufed with smoke that glided from her mentholated cigarettes.

She ashed off the side to nowhere particular. Her knees poked out from under the water as she asked me what I thought. Of what? Of her latest love affairs. Of going to college. Of what another girl had said to her just the other day. Of the hidden meanings and agendas of life outside the bathroom door.

I climbed into the tub with her, self conscious at first. Was my hair sticking to the side of my ears the way it does when it’s too wet to look good?  When was the last time I shaved my legs? Did I bring my cigarettes up too?

“I just want to stay in the tub forever. Sometimes I really think I could….” Her eyes glazed over the window view of a city block with abandoned buildings and children riding bikes.  “I’d just have someone else buy me some cigarettes from the store, I could be all set.”
“Let’s do it.” I said. “We could eat sandwiches in the tub.”
She smiled, making room for my legs to stretch out toward the window. “Perhaps we should.”

The colored houses

Posted in adventure, grunge, insanity, life, philly, Uncategorized with tags , , on July 17, 2008 by staticity

color was thrown around like an ecstatic lie to cover up the dark quiet that bleak situations bleed. Orange. Like careless finger paints splattered around on the floor. Purple silk scattered bathrobes tied tight to the morning. Yellow sun. Move just a little slower.

Late night hope still clings on to fun. A few pocket dollars and a rude hour. No one will see. Color drains. From the bath tub to their faces. The night still sucks sweet.

A jungle of houses depart from the ground. Lifting up, up, and away like a pigeon trying to fly. The stoop is still planted and the vertical apartment houses sway with the wind. Almost. Railings throw their arms up to the red city sky. Begging or praying for something above. Windows gasp and cough to breathe the fresh air. Hoagies. Stumped cigarettes. Plastic bags mistaken for tumble weeds.Everything keeps rolling in a  siren silence. Drifting down broken streets with thoughtful names.

The large woman across the street escapes from her children with white, wild, eyes. Laughing loud and shrill. Frantic and alone, but not for long. The moments can barely be counted when stray cats are the only company. Her hair strings out like wire on an electrocuted sound. She looks fast with darting eyes. Wider. Wider! Wild!

Traveling down empty power lines, every lonesome window can be heard. Howling. Crazy laughter from somewhere off in the distance. Houses roll by in a slow dilopidated depression far from the screaming children of fire orange and silk purple stuck in between a licourice mood.

been around the block

Posted in adventure, life, philly, relationships with tags , , , , , on July 9, 2008 by staticity

The block parties are still going on from yesterday. Police caution-tape sticks to both sides of our block as kids ride by on their bicycles and grandmothers listen to rap out on their stoop. The teenagers like to ride with their girlfriends on the handle bars of the bike as they speed through the dirty streets at night. It’s a large community of folks who have known each other for so long, if they’re not family, they might as well be.

Today we heard the crazy crack head next door might not be as crazy as we thought. For an entire year she has been knocking on our door, telling us there are people outside our courtyard during the night. We figured it was the crack. Matt came in to my room today however, and said he heard there really were people who would climb through our courtyard so they could have sex in ‘Miss Patty’s’ courtyard. Apparently the woman is cheating on her husband. A few nights ago I heard people near our courtyard (the courtyard is in back of my room) and son of a bitch, she might be right. So Matt rigged a boobie trap for the couple if they come trampling through our yard again, we’ll know.

Recently I bought the magazine ‘cosmo’ just for kicks. I was skimming through it in the shower with jess (that’s usually the time we can gossip) when I found myself more disappointed. Has Cosmo become tame or has it always been on the conservative side? It disguises itself with racy issues about ‘what men really want in bed’ and sex moves etc. but when you actually get right down to it, it’s mostly about how to please your man. How to do your hair the way most men like it. What kinds of food guys like. How to treat your guy like a king. How to be a good decorator. How to talk to his mom. Yada yada yada. I remember the thrills of reading it with katie in high school. We were among the few who had sex in 9th grade and that allowed us to go lingerie shopping and buy cosmo’s to read in public. Unfortunately, I’m starting to notice that the articles never change and the secrets that guys want in bed, is all the same. Which is sadly, nothing you can read in a magazine.

Ladytron

Posted in adventure, interactions, life, philly with tags , , , , on July 4, 2008 by staticity

I went to a Ladytron show the other night. “Don’t dress up.” I was told by the queen of Philadelphia outtings…. It was at the TLA so I figured, eh…south street… who knows.

We walked in with our jeans hanging off our ass and tight shirts only to find data rock jumping around on stage. The drinks were way over priced so we watched A bunch of high school kids in front of us   jumping along with the music. Data rock was okay but their show was kind of long so they had to keep reminding people of Ladytron by telling us they were playing. Everytime they mentioned Ladytron the crowd would get enthusiastic because we all thought it was datarock’s last song. denada.

Ladytron finally came on after a long set of d.j. songs and waiting in the dim light with a bunch of people dressed up in either goth clothes or short dresses. I started to feel out of place. The two girl singers in the group looked like they had taken the H train to get there. Their eyes were all dim and the expressions were lifeless. we figured heroin, who knows if anyone else thought so. They played a good set, but we couldn’t really hear their voices too well over the booming electronica that fuzzed out the speakers.

Dave and I cut out a couple songs early. Jess took her friend to the subway station so he could get home and my partner in crime was off finding water ice or something. We sat on the stoop waiting and watching as a crowd of sixteen year olds (most likely) stumbled out the doors ass drunk. They fell over each other and had to sit down on the curb to wait for a cab. Probably the most adventurous night they’ve ever had. who knows….

mirror

Posted in adventure, insanity, life, philly with tags , , , on June 22, 2008 by staticity

I took this in the bathroom at a coffee house on thirteenth…thought it was interesting.

adventuring

Posted in adventure, interactions, life, philly on June 20, 2008 by staticity

Yesterday I continued my adventuring and ended up at Jen’s house of all places. She was this girl I knew in Charlottesville. She lived in Philly before and moved down with Lexx (her boyfriend I ended up sleeping with.) She wasn’t so happy when I came into her life. She was gorgeous though… this tall, bright red hair, long legged, beautiful woman of twenty two. She partied. She was confident. And everything I wanted to be.

A few friends of mine from Charlottesville called me yesterday to say they were staying with her and I should come over.  As soon as I entered the Urban Outfitter decorated apartment, I was introduced by Jen to her socialite friends. One of them laughed and said “I remember you telling me about her. I didn’t know you guys were FRIENDS!” To which jen nervously laughed and I sat down to drink my wine with Ejipt and Kristin. I still admire her in some odd way.