an open letter to my late grandmother

dear grandma:

i've come to realize that everybody i've ever known has had a love/hate relationship with me. it's a very passive aggressive thing, really. i don't know what it is about me that is so polarizing but to say the least i'm amused. i think the only people that like and love me unconditionally are mom and my cats. okay, so that's only one person.

anyway, i need a haircut. you would agree. you always liked it short, black and shiny, like a cap of hair, you'd say. i think i'll let it grow out this time, though. we'll see.

i wonder what you're doing all the time and if you are watching me shower. i wonder a lot of things but i don't intend to get theological or anything. mostly, mom and i wonder if you're mad at us.

oh, and i hope you don't mind but last time i went to laredo, i stayed in your old room and took some dr. bonner's organic rose soap to bring home with me. look, you left like three bottles and they were just sitting there and they're like 12 bucks a bottle around here, so.

it's weird; the week before you died, i listened to that cassette tape of you teaching me how to read. it's labeled december of 1987. hearing it then gave me a strange lump in my throat, sort of how i feel right now. i really wish i could hear your voice just once more. truthfully, if you were haunting me or something, i'd be scared shitless so please come to me in a dream or something.

before i end this letter, i wanted to tell you about last weekend. i went to see a palm reader with my friend. i know you're already balking, but she told me some really uncanny things! i wish you could tell me if she said anything valid or if i got robbed. she said i would live to be 94. jeez.

well, see ya someday, i hope. not too soon, though.

love,

v

nothing to it

at mall del norte, in laredo, you can have your shoes shined while listening to local musicians play the pan flute.

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i saw a late night commercial one late night. a kid of five or six with blonde hair tells his grandpa, "whatever you want grandpa, as much as you want!" i think it was for cereal, or something.

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your wife is weird, because she cries for flowers. also, i remember twenty-year old you with your wine stained lips and worried eyes. i wish i hadn't deleted that link. fuckkkkkkkkkkkk.

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i think i was nine, maybe ten, definitely getting into the ages where i should know better or at least have some sort of shame, but i'd get out of bed every night when i was sure my parents were asleep and i'd dance in front of my full-length mirrors which were really closet doors. i'd dance to the swan lake ballet, and my hair would whip around me and my nose would run. if i heard anybody coming down the hall, i'd jump into my bed and pretend i was asleep, my heart pounding wildly. it's almost the way i'd jump from the entrance of my room at the door to my bed, a good six feet away. i'd pretend my carpet was really shark-infested water. it wasn't, obviously, but sometimes i'd find tacks in the bottom of my foot that had fallen from one of my many hanson posters.

the altar boy

i came into town to see my mother. while i've been here, i've seen two horrible movies (valentine's day, the wolfman), haven't had enough protein, and i've gone to mass with my mother. the mass was being given in honor of my late grandmother and that's the only reason we went to this church. "it's not my normal parish," my mom explained.

i flat out detest going to mass. i decided this time that i would listen with an open mind and try to absorb something from the sermon since i'd have to be there for an hour anyway. i'd try and make the best of it, if you will. as it turned out, this mass was entirely dedicated to asking churchgoers for money for the diocese of laredo, or something. i don't know, i tuned out, you see. i started staring at the altar boy instead and wondering what he was thinking about. he couldn't have been more than 13 years old. he was overweight, sullen, with floppy black hair in his eyes, and he sat there next to the priest, fidgeting and sighing. "i bet this kid listens to my chemical romance," i thought.

i never thought i'd see this kid again, and yet i saw him the very next day outside of the theater at the mall, with his circle of friends. he was wearing black baggy pants and a black t-shirt and also a collar with spikes. it was kind of disgusting to see him outside of the church and not wearing his white robe. i wish i hadn't seen him, either.

what is the meaning of this?

this is an ad i saw on my facebook home page, evidently geared towards mothers trying to go back to school. a strange picture choice, though.

strength

there is no definition for "undeserving" on dictionary.com, yet i know that word is real.

b vitamins make my piss really neon

a potato wrapped in a pink blanket, just born.

it reminds me of that mogwai video "stanley kubrick" but really only in that there's a potato family in it.

i'm really referring to a rock my boss has on her windowsill, with pink construction paper taped around it. her daughter did that for her when she came to work with her. that was the same day she destroyed all the dry erase markers and cut little hearts out of this citation that was waiting for service.

my boss just brought me french fries from whataburger. this is highly unusual.

i really only have one reader, not counting all those random comments i get in chinese characters, and that alone will keep this blog alive. thank you, reader. i really don't write these with you in mind, yet you are in my intended audience at the same time.

mom, thank you.

make sandwiches for the rest of the week

my mouse scrolly-rolling ball thing isn't working, and i'm having to use the scroll bar on the side of the screen instead. how annoying.

right now, i have to take a shit. tomorrow, i'm going to see tom green's stand up in some bullshit comedy club. i can't believe i'm going, but i actually really like tom green. i haven't been to a comedy club in a while.

saturday is LADIES NIGHT.



every night should be ladies night, if ladies night means dancing and drinking and crying and snorting and crying and oh i'm kidding.

i have to take my stupid phone to the apple store so they can fix the camera on it. the shutter won't open anymore for some irritating reason. i looked on apple forums and everybody that has had the same problem as me got their phone wet. my phone never got wet. i wonder what they will think of me, these apple workers, technicians or whatever they are, when they go through my phone and see that i have 67 photos of my cat.

january playlist

mayer hawthorne - a strange arrangement
beach boys - dierdre
crystal castles - vanished
grizzly bear - two weeks
smashing pumpkins - the end is the beginning is the end
friendly fires - lovesick
gilbert o'sullivan - alone again (naturally)
prince - controversy
girls - hellhole ratrace
beach house - walk in the park
the flamingos - i only have eyes for you
elo - wishing
lee fields & the expressions - the only one loving you
phoenix - honeymoon
yo la tengo - madeline

carrots are good

i never thought carrots were good until about three minutes ago. i mean, i'd eat them without much complaint, but i never truly appreciated their flavor and form until now. i hear they're good for your eyes, too. as my mom pointed out, you never see a rabbit with glasses, do you?