plans

currently im thinking this:

take temporary residency in philly at my
friends apartment for 100 bucks a week
find stupid coffee shop/book store job
until i can land something decent

possibly fly to new orleans at some
point, end of october or other time
when serene is there
get introduced, decide if i can hack
it in a post-apocolyptic swamp

get back north. make plans. make more art
get a better camera, some lights
shoot some weddings do some
freelance
get a career
choose life
choose obama

fleur

what did i get myself into

first day of work and i already wanna quit.
ahh, so much for me and corporate america,
i was just trying to make a buck, but i
forgot i'd have to sell my soul

my day started at 6.30am, roll outta bed
and eyes are red. couldn't sleep of course.
make yourself pretty, put cover-up on the
poisen ivy leg scars. put on a nice
outfit. do your hair. grab the cold
coffee and pasta outta the fridge.
grab the directions. and go.
one hour drive on some treachorous
highway in american chas peak
-that's rush hour in russian.

i get there 45 minutes early,
drive around in my car for a nice
place to sit down and eat
something. there's nothing but
fastfood so i pass and go
to work. wait in the lobby for a half
hour or so reading a book. lady comes
down to meet me, brings me upstairs
to my cubicle. no one is around yet,
too early i guess. she has nothing
for me to do, except read an old
machine manual that some italians
made. i read that until the man
shows up. he gives me a little
tour of the G14 machine - the
one that makes the packaging for your
nice italian coffee with the valve
on it to keep it fresh

then i get about a 200 page manual
print out that i'm just supposed to
sit and read. it's straight up
just like machine parts - i can't
tell you how f-ing sleepy this is making
me. i've downed a whole canteen of
coffee and i have to go back for more
and they've got the air conditioning
up so high i've got goosebumps and i'm
tugging at my sleeves to keep me warm.


i watch the hours drag on. at five ocklock
i inquire about my hours, i can leave, i
am informed. i leave. i get outside and
realize that the car i borrowed from
my ugandan pal won't start. i left the
headlights on. i go back into the plant
asking random people for jumper cables.
nobody seems to be able to help and
the people who usually take care of it
aren't around. i almost start crying.
the idea of asking my mom to drive an hour
in traffic to come jump start this car
isn't appealing. somehow this ukrainian
guy pops up - igor. he's mutters something
about having some personal cables around
and we go for a walk. im like - "igor where
are you from?" he says "ukraine". "oh nice,
i speak russian." "me too" he says.
he's got a 29 year old kid it turns out
we walk out to the parking lot and he shuttles
me over to my dead car. "ok gde tvoya mashina?"
"where is your car?" we drive around to the
other side and after some fidgeting we get it
working and i thank the man in Russian, he says
"no thang" in Russian and i'm on my way.

an hour and a half later, after missing the
turnpike exit and screaming at all the drivers
passing me, i get home. exhausted. dehydrated.
depressed. my mom of course wants to know
how it went. i tell her it was horrible. i
start to cook a burger and i'm so hungry
i don't let it cook all the way. i dress it
with mustard, ketchup, gluten free bread,
tomatoes and i go out onto the porch where
i am alone and i start to tear into the
burger but it's totally raw inside but
i'm so frusterated i continue to eat it out of
rage and i'm simultaneously crying into my
burger and it's just getting messy and
then i get so angry i yell and spit it out
and get mustard everywhere. i lay my head
down on the picnic table and cry into the
wood.

i don't know if i can get up tomorrow
and do this all over again. when i got home
i wanted to call someone, but i realized i
really don't have anyone to call anymore.
my friendships have dried up. my relationships
have scattered to the wind. maybe i will
scatter to the wind. maybe soon.