101. Vic's Quirky Response to the "White Elephant Christmas Game" / Christmas 2008 / Christmas 2009

This Christmas (a la Mama)... Next Halloween.... Vic the Confused Deranged Transgender Granny Pirate Coffee Addict! In Color!
This Christmas (a la Mama)... Next Halloween.... Vic the Confused Deranged Transgender Granny Pirate Coffee Addict! In Black and White!

When the family came together in Christmas of 2007, Jennifer had an idea to play a guessing game so that we could get to know each other better. We had to answer four questions, and slowly but surely, people had to guess who was the person who answered the questions. I think it came out that (1) I gave people the most bizarre presents, and (2) I had the most bizarre responses. So I'll share my self-absurdity.

(1). Favorite holiday carol/song: WWJB, What Would Jesus Buy? (It's a documentary, not sure if it's a song. It should be. Mama thought I made that up, and she demanded that I sing it on the spot, which I didn't)

(2). Favorite holiday tradition: Sleeping. (Most people answered: spending time with family and eating good food. Jery Lyn guessed me right away)

(3). Favorite food: Homemade pie and homemade strawberry ice scream. (This was my boring response, but nevertheless true. Jim and Melanie and Alicia spoil us with homemade ice scream and pie)

(4). Strangest holiday present ever received: Toilet paper. (Mama saw the question and she yelped at me: "Ohhh! I know what YOU'RE going to write! Oh no!" And I exclaimed, "I'm going to have to bring this issue out in the open from under the table!" We both laughed until our faces went red)

I made the top list for giving people the strangest presents. I gave Mama a sweeper and dust pan. She got mad and didn't want it. She wanted me to return it, but Jenny decided to take it to Northridge. Whew. It was 99 cents anyway. She asked me, "What were you thinking? Are you going to give me a trash can like Baba too?" I think this family is a little bit too practical for its own good.

Jennifer put me on the top for weirdest present. I believe I gave her frog-shaped soap. That was a long time ago. Oh well. Bub said "none" for favorite holiday song. That almost beats "What Would Jesus Buy." Bub's weirdest present was a "plastic roll," but unfortunately I did not give it to him. If you do not know, my father lives off of bread. It's his addiction. Better than cigarettes and pot, I guess. The strangest present my grandfather Ray ever received was a Venus Fly Trap, and that, of course, was from me--just this Christmas. This is a special honor for me, simply because Ray is 94 or 95 years old! Surely he must have received a stranger present than a Venus Fly Trap! Jenny's favorite holiday tradition is "Saying Thanks at Thanksgiving," a bit redundant, but I also topped her list of weirdest presents--just this year--"oozing animal-shaped sticky window figurines." Pretty elaborate and scientific! One was an orange deformed frog. One was a rat. And another was a starfish.

I think the "recent memory effect" has taken effect in people's decisions for weirdest presents, and I guess it's all toward my favor in the recent emergence of my weirdness (it was more suppressed before). It is the same effect that occurs when people decide who should receive an academy award. I think we should account for this phenomenon, and make the decision-making process more objective.

I think we were all sad that Colleen didn't come. She had been cut off from the family since moving out from Uncle Dwight. She called once when the fires were occurring near Corona. I just hope she's okay.

Jennifer must have known who was who just based on the hand-writing of the people. Jennifer was announcing the answers to everyone... all for us to go wild guessing.

What can I say? I am so thankful for all my family for keeping me calibrated and in check. And I am thankful they welcome the development of my humor. Being comical is a necessity, otherwise life gets to be pretty boring if you rely on others for humor. I apply the "expect the worst, and hope for the best" tactic when it comes to comedy. Sometimes other people really crack me up!

Christmas 2009
All right, all right, now it's December of 2009... about a year since last Christmas.... What have I been doing differently? Well, before I did the Christmas Eve present splurge... I was on this meditative train of thought of adding everyone I could think of on Facebook. I promised myself last September to finally start using Facebook and adding all my past friends and acquaintances, and acknowledge their existence and influence in my life, whether subtley or profoundly.... I got to the point in which I finished writing a blog on the NASA Sherettes Conference, and I was about to add Dr. Caron to Facebook when I realized it was PAST NOON, and that it was CHRISTMAS EVE and that I better just get my act together. I had been meditating on what to purchase people this year. The last couple of years have ventured into the domain of "absurd silliness" and "Saturday Night Live Material." My strategy was "quantity" over "quality," especially since I was strolling through the isles of the 99 cents store. I have established the familial claim to fame for purchasing my grandfather of 96 years the most memorable present of a "venus fly trap" and in certain ways, I'm trying to maintain my new status of Holiday Sharing. But this year, I decided to resort to "thoughtfulness" and "quality over quantity." I meditated long and hard on what to purchase for each close family member: (1) my father: a very, very nice fancy +20 oz Starbucks metallic coffee mug, so that he will NEVER have to use a paper cup at Starbucks ever again (though I'm still guilty) (2) my mother: Trader Joes Baklava (she requested it), and I was thinking of getting her a cook book, but I abandoned any cookbook ideas all together; also a $5 gift certificate to the Dollar Tree Store (3) Jen Jen, my sister: an autographed book by Dr. Barbara Kingsolver "The Poisonwood Bible" (a couple of years ago Jenny got me a Daftpunk Homework CD for Christmas, and it was one of the coolest presents I had received the last ten years, so I wanted to reciprocate in the same way). I also made a few Dollar Tree Store Nick Nack presents, but overall I calmed down my own Saturday Night Live Prankster Gift Habits (though I guess American Consumerist Lifestyle is overall insane; it doesn't really even matter). I wanted to also buy everyone in the family some cloth-based, portable grocery store baggies from Whole Foods, but I never made it to the store because I anticipated horrible traffic on Christmas Eve. On the evening before Christmas, I felt overall tired and was not in the mood of purchasing and wrapping, so my sister Jenny helped me out, took me out to the Dollar Tree Store in her new Green Toyota Limo (she's getting higher up in the ranks than I am; she's about to have a nice job in a few months... my parents only have to worry about me :-), and she let me borrow her wrapping paper for wrapping. I was still lazy and didn't label any of the presents. It was a little bit of guess work in terms of whether people received the right presents. My mother noticed how tired I was and said, "Awww, you don't have to wrap the presents!" And I exclaimed, "No! I have to! Last year I wrapped everything in grocery store plastic bags and Jenny was pissed off!" So... I have learned and adjusted my behavior.... (Oh ya, I did get my father a funny present, a Luna Bar, or an energy bar for women... ha ha... for my daddy's feminine side... I didn't even realize it was a bar for women, who would know the difference?)

So, that was my game plan. It was Christmas Eve, 9pm, and everything was all set for the next day. I wanted to go out and work at a coffeeshop but everything was closed. I was cold and just slept on the living room floor wrapped in blankets by the tree. I didn't hear Santa Claus that night, just my dad waking up 3am in the morning to go to the pot. Right before I went to sleep, I talked with my father. I was trying to figure out the HISTORY of this ASBURD GIFT EXCHANGE, especially between ME and MY MOTHER. Well, last year was getting really crazy. And then I purchased a bowl that was shaped as a half-broken chicken egg shell with two chicken feet sticking out. My mother frowned, my father laughed, and my mom asked if my dad could donate this piece of existentialist Goodwill art to his work.... I kept tracing back and back and back... and then I realized that the Whacko Funky Gift Exchange Operation started back in November of 2003, when I was at UCLA, frazzled as can be as a first-year graduate student, and for some reason, our apartment was out of toilet paper for a week and I was so crunched with time I forgot to purchase toilet paper at the grocery store. Oopsy. My mother emphasized this random drama of "toilet paper absence" by wrapping up a packet of four-ply toilet paper and giving it to me for Christmas. I whined when I opened it up, "Ma-maaaa!!!" And SHE calls me the Greek "skatoula" [little shxt!] huh! So much for that... the terms of endearment shoot right back at her!

After that Christmas present, my mother and I subliminally formulated a Christmas/Birthday present FaceOff Competition of who could get the most absurd, silly, and most useless present during whatever holiday occassion. But it's December 2009 and I was about ready to taper off in my efforts... except for my mother... she decided to vamp up her efforts.

On the morning of December 25, 2009, my mother tossed me a soft-feeling present. I opened it up, only to find a green kitchen pirate hat with white pokadots. My mom busted laughing. My father and sister started to cringe. The next present: a white-yarn oversized painter's beanie hat. My mom laughed again. I took off the pokadot hat in order to place the white painter's hat underneath, and the pokadot hat was on the top. And then an undersized light brown and blue vest. Wow, this was getting good. My mother was having way too much fun. Then my sister opened a couple of white elephant presents: a neon pink hippi purse, which she grimaced and I exclaimed, "I want it! I want it!" which she threw across the room to me. And to top it off, a weird cloth light brown belt with strange crochet patterns on it. I forgot the colors. Reminded me of Arizonian and New Mexico designs. My sister frowned. My mom moped, "Well, I thought you needed a belt." Jenny whined again, "Mama! I'm not going to wear it!" And of course I perked up, "I want it! I want it!" And hence, my wardrobe for next Halloween was completed (maybe some pants or shorts to top it off). Jenny stared at me and playfully, "Victoria! Take it off! Take it all off! You look like a confused transgender granny pirate!" Wow! My new identity! Well, the identity became more elaborate when Jenny gave me a $10 Starbucks gift certificate. My official title for Next Halloween is "Confused Deranged Transgender Granny Pirate Coffee Addict!" CDTGPCA. At one point my sister retrieved a present for my father from her car, and my dad was like, "I hope it's a screen... so I can stop looking at Victoria!" Aya!

Though I wasn't all that competitive in the annual Silly Useless Gift Exchange Game... I am so happy my mother still played... and she came back stronger than ever! A fisherman said, it's all about making memories, in the end, that's all you have left. Memories. And that indeed was what my mother did. Sometimes I feel like my family has humorous enough moments to be on Saturday Night Live. Christmas Time the last five years have made it in my mind....

My mother also had a "flashlight fetish." She gave everyone a bunch of 99-cent weirdly shaped lights.... I found out that it was because of some family struggles in Greece with a cousin of mine who is literally going insane and being threatening in a way that is criminal... which is obviously affecting the whole family. My mom perceives "lights" as some form of "clairvoyance" in a time of familial turbulence... so she dumped all these lights on us, which is fine, because I have a fetish for plasma and lava lamps... so she's adding to my collection. I stopped paying full price for lava lamps. They end up being popular, cheap yard sale items. The first thing that goes when everyone moves....

Noon. Marquis arrives. That was fun. Drive in Green Limo to Corona. Say hi to everyone. Chuck. Jean. Jennifer. Colleen (back from Harvard!). Uncle Dwight ($10 gift certificate TJs!). Jeri Lyn. Steve. Mumsy. Bubsy. Jen Jen. Marquis. Me. Great Catching Up! White Elephant Toss Game was a bit of a dud. No one was interested in trading or stealing this year. I think everyone has gotten too good at this game. Jennifer gave me to-do-list tattoos because I write all over my hands. Ha ha. Received a tool kit and a cool "Mudd" purse with a huge number of pockets. Jeri Lyn didn't want! Wa?! Oh well. Lots of great food. Turkey. Potatoes. Mashed potatoes. Beans. Veggie chips. Guacamole and Tortilla Chips. Cookies. Pumpkin bread. Caramel pop corn. A suite of other evil little goodies that will compell me to jogging a bazillion miles to who knows where. Good thing I didn't eat anything the night before! Came back after a ride to Riverside. Played Buzz game. The host was abnoxious. I apparently am an idiot and don't know anything useful, like the names of musicians and famous athletes. I played a WWII Wii game and crashed an airplane in the ocean. Cool! Fell asleep with the doggies. I was so happy to see Jeri Lyn and Steve and Katie from up North! Steve showed me how to use Garageband.... He's motivating me to get on to purchasing Logic Pro or Logic Lite... get over the hump.... and become musically competent! Garageband has some built in tools like PITCH CORRECTION! ARPEGGIATOR! Autotunes equivalent! That is GOOD TO KNOW!!!

Another memorable Christmas goes by! I love our new family gig. Merging Christmas with Ray Minnich's side of the family and Dwight Minnich's side of the family. The hub of the free-thinking scientists and artists. I wish we started doing this a lot earlier, but now... I'm glad we're doing it now! Better now than never!

366. Cleaning My Mind's Room: Version 2, Continued, Christmas Eve Present Foraging Rush, Industrial Ecology of Vic's Life, Two Brothers-Sisters

There is nothing better than Christmas shopping the day before. The only stores that were still open for my foraging were CVS drugs, Stater Brothers, and the 99 cent store. I purchased most everything from the 99 cent store--most predictably.

The two "most stupidest things" that you could ever do--according to grandpa Ray--are (1) run out of gas and (2) rob a bank. I had the pleasure of experiencing the notion of "running out of gas," and to my great fortunate, I coasted / and was towed into a gas station... right across the street from the incident of puttering out. The second notion of robbing a bank is absurd. It would be more suitable to mention "robbing a 99-cent store."

The experience of Christmas shopping is mind-numbing and silly, so it's best to perform operations in a mind-numbing, sleep deprived state. I deprive myself of sleep. Other people take drugs. Whatever works.

I didn't have enough time to notice that the last remaining Christmas shoppers were predominantly male. I was too pre-occupied with the health and overall state of my sister, who is dealing with a "non-optimal" addictive, relationship. So, it was hard to focus.
My cousin Mike says that I dress like a crack addict who just had her first day on the streets. Sloppy clothing, but you can't really tell that there's something wrong with them yet. They can still be passed off as "normal," or... "blending in."

All memories dissassociated with most coffee cups. They are so generic in properties, they could come from close to anywhere. Came home to show my parents some ridiculous generic coffee cup collection. 7-11 Coffee Chemistry Lab. The illusion of choice. None of it is real coffee. Just powder plus water from a machine. And more liquified powders to pump int your coffee. Ironically they have a "thank heaven" on their 7-11 coffee cups with a halo on top--the coffee is so unhealthy, your consumption of it will send you to heaven sooner than you'd like! Enough coffee bean "sleeves"! I only go there because there is a Coffee Bean right next to the Kinkos in Goleta. Been using Q-tips for cleaning of the ears. Ran out and was borrowing my housemate's materials. Supposedly bad to clean your ears with Q-tips, my aunt says. Need more! Coffeebean recently acquired the state of "free internet" for customers. So it's okay for me to pay an extra time or twenty cents for my coffee. No problem!

Karl, before going to AGU (Tim Lyons went there too!) gave me a bunch of chain links. For back packs and potentially durable for climbing. So sweet! Rite Aid plastic bag. I guess most of my memories dissassociated from such "generic' objects. 7-11 plastic bag. Right by my house in Goleta. Gas is about 10-cents up that area. Ralphs plastic bag. They are the only place open 24-7. Rite Aid bag. Motel 6. This is my 4th day this month. I am desperate! Third time here. Another time in Carpinteria. Okay-priced. Could get more money's worth. Purple ribbon from my Aunt Jean. Associated with birthday present I picked up in September or October. Cat Kat passed away. Sophie is the new cat. She's a timid little thing. No longer "tiny" anymore. Topcare "woman's." Giant Costco trash bag spattered with coffee stains. Way too sticky to re-use. Thanks Kyle! Used it for keeping my xss dry in soggy car. Melted Werthers attracts ants, re-solidifies into the "sap" material. Lagerstatten in one day! What a break-through! Dog-days of the summer, I tell ya!

Two black sharpies. I received four on sale at a Longs Drugs early in the morning after a "lengthy" conversation with Dr. Sam Sweet. I ended up sitting in the car on a chilly morning talking to my dad and writing with a black sharpie--just bought, though I didn't need one, but was the only writing utensil on sale--on a piece of cardboard on the properties of natural selection. The feedbacks between organism and environment and the existence of Lamarckian evolution. That was a good morning. My dad helped me a lot!

I finally opened the box containing the Rubik's cube! Another metaphor. It's at home now.

Had to buy Motrin IB post Jean and Chuck at Chevron gas station. Had bad headache. Not sure how or why. CVS c-lax. So mild. Plastic bag dreamworks Madagascar from Dwight. Contained the fixed AC-DC car converter! Plastic bags from Trader Joes. Albertsons. Supersavers!

Needed to find a way to stay awake. Went to Ralphs near by Winnetka in Los Angeles and purchased Bolthouse Farms Perfectly Protein Vanilla chai Tea with Soy Protein. Supposedly organic and all natural. Blah blah blah. Anyhow it tasted VERY GOOD and was very thick. Finished the whole bottle, which equaled about 800 calories! The most important thing is that I returned to Santa Barbara late at night, but nevertheless safe!

More plastic bags inside plastic bags inside plastic bags! Memories?! I have none! They are too generic! Another Vons plastic bag! Mudd logo on a paper yanked from a belt that does NOT fit my waste. From a friend who wasted 200-dollars of my own money. Because he was a liar and said he was "minimalist" but wanted to get all this fancy bullshxt clothes for my essence to conform to American Corporate Environmentalism. Sorry, you do that! And your pair of Merrill shoes. And he was like "Fine! Dress like a geologist for the rest of your life!" As if I were a sinner. I am still angry and cannot return the clothes. It's too late. I have no desire to wear them either. Maybe read blog and got pissed off. Whatever. It's TRUE.

Typical "trashbag" full of vices consists of: one two-liter bottle of Diet Something Soda. Several bags of werthers original. Scattered aluminum-shine from lx grids. Maybe "beef jerky" plastic wrap link. Beat up CD casing. Correctxl. Splenda and pink sugar-free sugar packets. Diet mountain dew can of soda. Starbucks coffee lids and sleeves. Coffee Bean lids and sleeves. Maybe a soggy cup. Vons ripped plastic bag. Cutip. Another cutip. Trident gum wrap. Broken-handled brown Trader Joes bag. Have to decipher the receipts from the rest of the trash. Powdered coffee from Chevron--the best of all powdered coffees, but the last time was WAY too sweet! Scattered pink pills laying around! Melted werthers! Starbucks coffee napkin, still in one piece, not soggy at all. Plastic bag from Albertsons. Entire plastic bag packed with werthers, cutips, lx strips, and tictac xylitol foil.

It's as if I am a Taphonomist of My Own Trash! Welcome to Self-imposed Industrial Ecology!

There is always a trade-off in physical and mental consumption. If you consume more physical materials, it is at the sacrifice of mental consumption. So, I try to feed myself like an IV drip. As I had mentioned before at the end of high school, that I wished to be fed through a tube in my stomach. I no longer wanted to eat anymore. I don't feel that way anymore, nor do I imagine such things, especially since they have attempted to do such things to my grandfather Ray before his passing. But I am still imaginative, and when I study, I need to be a hungry lion. And I need to simulate a scenario of an IV drip to acquire sustained energy.

Now I have "too many tampons" couple of boxes from separate occassions of being without vital necessities while the female body does what it does....

Last time talked on the phone that jerk had to make commentary: "Gee, your advisor is very scatter-brained and disorganized." And who are YOU to say?

The hotel room is slowly shrinking in size in terms of "crxp laying around" so I suppose I am making progress. Yesterday I spent about 5.50 in drinks. Two Starbucks Doubleshots, one mocha and one vanilla, and a 50 cent refill. One refill was free. I am a sinner and waster of money. Well. It was Christmas Eve....

If I empty the dresser drawer of my mind, I will be able to see and collect new things, eh? Yes. Never fear to see something new. Once I eliminate all physical, tangible trash, then I will be able to focus on the contents of my computer. Tat is always a good thing.

I need to start using an electric toothbrush again. I bought a second green one. Bub was with me. We went to the horrid Walmart off in Oxnard. Bub brought me my Subaru Legacy, to which I am going to have to sell soon, even though the gas prices are low. The red brush has low batteries, and I could never open the bottom part to place new batteries. I am expiring this Crest brush of its services. My cousin Mike I think has 100-dollar toothbrushes in his bathroom. I saw them at Walmart for $100. You know? As long as I can brush my teeth. My friend explained to me that the vibration konks out the bacteria, not necessarily the brushing action itself. Bye bye red electric tooth brush! Live long--or not--in whatever waste bin you end up. May you be recycled, like the nutrients and gases of the plants animals and sky. My gxdzeeks, I sound NEW AGE! AAAAAHHH! I am scared of my own self.

I used a $50 Nike softball glove twice this quarter. It is tragic. I need to return it to Sportsmart--aka Sports Authority. *Sigh* Find at home the tags.

Bk childhood friend, meds. Antidepressants. Trying to get out. Re-evaluate life. Grad school or med school. I told my mother. Everyone has their own internal biological clock. It triggers certain times in their lives due to certain environmental exposures. Such is such. ALL EDUCATION IS INDIRECT. There are certain occassions in life--windows of opportunity--where kids are able to absorb things faster and more permanently--like at very young ages, but everyone has to come to their own terms in their own minds. And it happens at strange places and strange times. You never know. You never know.

Childhood Illusions...

But to think that my two childhood friends. Our parents raised us with very big dreams. With very high standards. If we worked hard, we would get far in life. If we memorized big words to spell and regurgitate their definitions. If we learned foreign languages. If we played the piano. If we were super tennis players. If we were the best writers of the school. All these dreams and competitions were just illusions to the reality of life. That society hardly operates based on merit. They were all lies. All these lovely values that were implanted in our heads--like getting perfect 1600 SAT scores--I only got a 1410 after the third try... I suck. This entire education system was one big lie. And then all these dreams implanted in your head fade into reality. And of course, your metabolism is so high from your childhood days, but where to channel it? Where to channel your energy in a world that is unjust? Where to find hope and value and meaning again? You never know where you will find it. It is hard to love the world. But perhaps you may love the world of another person.

The two brothers and sisters played Starwars on suburbian streets with tennis balls and watched fireworks on Sugarloaf Mountain. Danced along the mainways of Disneyland and cried after brutal sets of tennis on a Saturday morning, overlooked by not one, but TWO overbearing tennis parents. If there was a time in my life where I was "happy" and my baseline had been set for standards in my life, I was in between ages 10-12. I had fixated on something so beautiful and so utopia-esque that I still have barely encountered any measures or standards since. But I have gotten close. My mind has fixated on something that perhaps does not exist... or have not discovered yet.

What if you mind was implanted great dreams? Brainwashed to achieve success? And then you grew up and found out it was all a lie?

Fall in love with dogs? Or a boyfriend. Time. Give me ten years. Give a gay guy ten years.

I will say adios to an old pack of Colgate toothpaste. About three years old. Old and crusty. Most likely expired. I cannot consume the gum that T gave me. That xylitol gum. Would rather be chewing trident. Will have to return to him. Cannot. I cried in front of Jenny yesterday. I wasn't even the one who was name-called. I wasn't even the one who was dragged across the floor. But I was the one who was ignored and neglected. And that perhaps is extremely painful. That guy provides the illusion of normalcy, but is whacko. He chose to be isolated. And I fell for deep sympathy otherwise, until I found out it was his CHOICE.

Where are all the geologists? I love the geologists. Where are they?

Need to return scissors to Mama. Karl gave me a chain-link with a light on it. Will give it to Jenny. It's cool, but it bugs the shxt out of me. Can be useful though! Just keep it. Fine, I'll put it on my backpack right now.

I washed my stuffed animals. Finally! Sparky was turning into dark brown. That's not good. Tooty looked immaculate. She's (the new ty-baby elephant of the family) the new baseline of cleanliness.

Giving Jenny a lamp. Can use sparingly myself. Bought mirror and tw too for myself. Give to her. Was going to return, but never mind. I will keep a second pair of lacross tw, but unforunately is made of "pink" leather on the outside casing. Wish it were black but had no other choice of color!

Vic should have a photograph series: An Industrial Ecology of Graduate School (Vices)!

I am tired of playing "victim" in my writing! JUST DO IT!

Okay, now I am going to give eyes to Bugsy. I will need a pen more permanent than a Sharpie. I have given Bugsy eyes quite a few times. Not to mention I have done surgeries on my cartoon characters. It's tragic. At least there are no bloody guts involved. Sigh.

My father said that as soon as Ray passed, Ray was no longer there. It was just a corpse. That is a very interesting use of definition and terminology. Now Ray is in the mountains and the clouds of southern California. He's everywhere now. Not a bad deal. I have this tooth from the dentist. Kind of looks like a DPP. I looked at it and it doesn't belong in the cast of characters. I will take a pix and let the creature go. Made in China anyway. Like the rest of everything I own.

I used to love Extra cinnamon gum, but I am done. I am now converted to Trident. Trident had drastically changed the composition and texture of its gum. I used to hate it. Now I love it to bits and pieces! I chew it all the time! Maybe Trident has cinnamon! But I am for sure done with Wrigley's Extra and the like.

I am staring at two Gillette Cool Wave antiperspirants. I ran out. I tried to buy another anti-perpsirant, but what happened is that in a couple of days I developed a rash that covered my entire armpits, combined with my lower back, usually along the lines to my sportsbra. It was a horrible, red rash. I missed a heated discussion with the doctor by one week. If I had gone one week earlier I would have raised holy hxll. I went in to get a pap. That doc was pretty cool. I asked so many questions. I guess my goal this Christmas is to make sure my dad has a camera. Which means I need to finish EOT and move on. If T had his priorities straight, he would save money for digital cameras, not 120-dollar shoes. But who am I to judge with other people's values? They are just not compatible to mine. It was insulting about how he wanted to throw out all my goodwill jogging clothes. What arrogance! So much for environmentalism. Another case of Elitist Environmentalism.

Back to the Gillette, so my sister is going to give me one of her anti-perspirants.

I did some sorting of clothes in the car and I came to peace with the notion I am okay with everyone except for you know who. I am okay with Charlie, Brian, Erica, everyone. I am thankful that Erica let me have some of her very nice clothes. I have officially mentally annexed them. Are you sure you are not bisexual, he asked? Said he had a hard time, had to get over being the fact he is male and not female. Uh-huh. Okay. Strange conversations. I didn't want to do that, did I? No. You can get diseases through the mouth? Nope. For sure. I am heterosexual. I mentally checked SOOO many times. It's not even funny. That show. With the Persian clothes. It was quite classy. Lots of alcohol behind it. To get to know the details of one's lifestyle it's daunting. Found my long-lost sleeveless shirt from Old Navy. Buried in a pile for quite a while. Erika gave me Jeans that fit me snuggly. We are of optimal size. Almost the same. She does the hard work and finds the jeans. She just gets me the hand-me-downs. What was that. The blow up of leaving the house. That was all so weird. "I'm over it." The project. Taking a chill pill. Voluntarily sedentary. Angry come over. Used for emotional crutching through the surgery. Positive and negative. Uphill and downhill. What?!! Too married. No plan B. My sister and I both suffer from that. No phone calls. Didn't even attend the Christmas party at Bren. Didn't even feel like it.

These two jeans suffer from severe, traumatic memories, but they are wearable, and memorable. Erika is quite a character. I have nothing against anything of her. Quite amusing! At least I can WEAR these clothes, unlike those clothes in a bag that ended up being a waste of money. That Painted Caves. That was a beautiful birthday lecture. But then... tapped out. Record what said? Patchwork. Don't know. Fear of writing. Belched out all at once. Hide. Whatever. Sulk in your own shxt. It's just a battle, illusion in my head. Rewinding the clock to the oak trees of Mission Canyon. They are still magical, you know.

The quarter system seems to dull and erase and wipe out any form of pain, you know. Not wipe it out. But the magnification of personal pain if crushed by the bombardment of information. And once you revisit pain, the layers of time have diminished this pain and diverted and scattered the pain to a million--if not a thousand or a hundred--directions elsewhere. Pain is now diffuse--like the oxygen we breathe--not centralize--like the giant Freebirds burrito we dare to consume in one sitting.