the fairy tale of hitting the floor and making your face bleed hard but my floor is still always yours, its time for bright orange and space issues and bed head. i get lost in the library. i drew a map last night of what to do today. go here and here and here with arrows. we ate jason laferrera's gift cake and it made us dizzy spell. my organization story is a folk tale, my clean room archetype, my apron-stringed; where'd you get to. my reason. +i get these invoices from MCV and they are like $619.98! $651.00! and the two capsules of ibuprofen they gave me that time i was there for the accident cost $21.98. wow, wow, wow. twenty dollars? for two motrin????? the fairy tale surgery, if financial screening does not come through for me, rescued from the tower style, would cost $10,000. that number is funny, because it is ridiculously mythological. no one has $10,000! in richmond! are they mad? the lady told me that if i don't have a poor people's number or whatsit by the time of surgery, they will want the money right then and there. i couldn't quit laughing. hi, i'm here for a surgery. here's my check for ten thousand dollars! okay, lets do this!
its tuesday. i ordered the beer for the party. its wes's 21st birthday that night. he's in my bike gang. the party, it will be so, so good. it will tell us if cold dark matter exists or not. it will pair everyone off into unlikely couples, in a degrassijuniorhighcore way. we will use up all the fun and there won't be any left.
i'll go back to teaching kindergarten the following monday, cultivating the foreign concept growing inside my body, watching movies in people's beds, painting my fake name on the fake shit;
yours, amanda L. at 4:14:00 PM [+]
dear everyone: it is easy to get your own comments script so that you do not 1. look like a bunch of lazy copycats like you do and 2. can have control over colors, design etc and 3. be able to erase comments or edit them not to mention know the ISP of who is writing; go here and SIGN UP FOR AN ACCOUNT and just copy and paste the code over top where you copied and pasted my code and then, within your account on the enetation site, you can mess with the template all you want. come on. it makes me nervous that we're all saying "on how we make a story" and i feel like i should alter my shit to match everyone's sites but it is impossible.
yours, amanda L. at 3:43:00 PM [+]
we joey and matt and i we drove a car to chapel hill to get real loud and terrifying and 40s, always to wherever vcr is, for joey's 25th birthday, this time a shitty bookstore, no science section to speak of, the setup also playing which i found hysterically weird, giggling uncontrollably at the sight of john martin and cole strolling through the door what?? oh my friends, all my friends will let go so, so far; we snuck 9 of us into the motel room, casey's car caught fire and exploded and all the equipment smelled like burning everything; 90 degree bubble of sleeping breathing people no sleep its hard not to watch people sleep its hard to sleep
we have alot of fun
today muna and i made an ice cream cake
i woke up this morning with screaming clutching girlish pain and she gave me tylenol when i could not speak;
hey when i am fainting with pain, etc when you see me with my throwing a party this friday, when you are walking back and forth creating a magnet and most of all, when you are caught looking
yours, amanda L. at 7:58:00 PM [+]
STOP CHILDREN FROM COMMITTING CRIMES its christmastime. i am computer time, its my parents house; lets eat all the sugar immediately, pine tree smells, slow--halting--pianotime, their diets, the tension; january 2 at my house is the party its JUST FRIENDS DAY you must remember but in case you forget, i will make a flier. later, january 30th, thats four fridays later, its VCR at my house with hopefully rory phillips visiting and hopefully THE ENTIRE PLACE GETTING DESTROYED no no no no i mean, the entire place warming up. because it is cold. IT IS SO COLD
yours, amanda L. at 6:07:00 PM [+]
she thinks she's a ballerina. really she's this lanky being that ingests all of our thoughts and spits them in our faces when we forget what we are living for. one time i saw her ride her bike directly into traffic she took out two 4x4's and a kia. thank god for those graceful legs cause she stuck one right through the window. the glass shattered everywhere and her look of amazement was agas. zach stole the keys from the driver and we all took off on a week long driving spree. she is rad like R-A-D rad. the days would be a lot longer if she had not twinkled into our lives. thank you chad middleton for bringing us together.
yours, amanda L. at 1:23:00 PM [+]
"LOVE IS CUTE!" when your bikes got a radio playing it makes it better. i'm sorry jason for not being enough fun in the living room but later we had so much fun; you should have too, you are my friend and thats no lie. the antidote to hours spent inert and drawing stickers is being outside and mobility. cold cold air in my face and this person smashed the windows of the door at nanci raygun with his feet and bare hands where glass showered all over zach and i, this happened during hip hop night, jessie k and i charging around clutching big glassfuls of vodka tonic and trailing chance like its goin out of style. trail, trail, trail. coating the whole of the city with new names.
1. painting bike yellow
2. other bike
3. the window at the place
4. 50 dollars of safety pins and sharpie markers, right?????
5. paying bills/coffee all morning/marking the map of richmond to demonstrate Placeholders (placeholder! playholder!!!! that is a good word; good in a headstart way.)
6. "she's in love with chance so she hates me."
"we all be in love with chance!"
"i don't know what her problem is."
yours, amanda L. at 12:41:00 PM [+]
seesawcore its walking home and being chased by dogs in oregon hill and drawing pictures and telling stories and biking to work and listening to ministry I LOVE MINISTRY and hollering excuse me!! get back here and walk. yes, you. isnt nobody else running down that hall. get back here and WALK. thank you. and then having conversations about highschool while pouring wine down my throat, pouring rain outside; its playing in the streets. i learn twenty new names everyday and forget them all in the morning, i'm coughing uncontrollably in my sleep and i wake up with tears running down my face, i tossed and turned last night and had dreams about classrooms, my mind and the contents of this world cannot be torn apart, gold spraypaint and stupid lettering, the production of reality, i believe in everything
yours, amanda L. at 5:47:00 PM [+]
what i've explained to children lately:
1. what a sentence is (it starts with a capital letter and ends with a special mark)
2. what the cerebrum does (movement, senses, learning, thinking and memory)
3. what happens when you mix yellow and blue (green)
4. why we need government (to make laws so that citizens can live together happily) (huh??!?!)
5. addition (see, you count the first group of monkeys and then count the second group of monkeys.
write it __ + __. and then you count them all together and that is how many monkeys you have)
yours, amanda L. at 7:56:00 PM [+]
10:00 - 11:00 ORGANIZED PLAY
SEWING SWEATERS RIDING BIKES DRAWING ON SURFACES FREEZING COLD APARTMENT SCHOOLTEACHING HEADACHES SLEEPING HARD BONFIRES AND CONVERSATIONS AND TAKING PICTURES AND SCHEMING AND SCREAMING AND BETTER AND BETTER AND BETTER; PILLS THAT MAKE MY EYES WATER ALL NIGHT AND/OR DREAMS I CRY THROUGH WITHOUT STOPPING hour upon hour ARROWS IN EVERY DIRECTION AND WARM COFFEES AND COATS AND SHARPIE MARKERS AND TALKING ALOUD ABOUT TELEPATHY AND MY INSIDES ARE ALL FORESTED AND LEAFY; I'M MEANT TO BE-BE-BE-BE S-S-S-S-S-SERIOUS AND CAN YOU BE THE LOUDEST WHEN YOU ARE THE LOUDEST YOU ARE THE LOUDEST AND WHEN YOU ARE THE LOUDEST THEN YOU ARE MY FAVORITE.
yours, amanda L. at 7:41:00 PM [+]
i crashed my car into the back of another car. this is because i am not meant for driving. they put me in a stretcher and strapped my head down and andrew rolled up on his bike, i could see the red of his hat out of the corner of my eye, my unmovable head, the grey sky with its wires; i said, i'm okay andrew. they put me in this stretcher. my neck hurts. i got a red bracelet instead of green. i am okay. at the thrift store my eyes watered uncontrollably and we struggled together, buying even more voluminous sweaters to sew into doll clothes for teeny tiny richmond rock girls, and then (then!) a shiny new old bicycle the same color of my ruined car. which i abandoned on 1st and leigh st. tonight we'll tape flashlights to the front and secretly drive it to muna's neighborhood where it can rest, unticketed. the headlights are gone, so is the grille. i knocked that shit off, crashing it into this other car. driving. is. astounding.
oh, reader. oh. its you that worries me.
yours, amanda L. at 6:16:00 PM [+]
anda gail lewis 2005. stop crying every day.