sun hits my back brooklyn style
sitting here, brooklyn. the sun is shining so fucking strong and the skies are clearer and less muddy than usual. I have keys to go to get coffee and come back. I think I might do that in a bit. Dreams slippin past my conscious memory again. They are so strange lately. Super high fi high fantasy configurations and equations that make so much sense until I try to repeat them or reorganize them as ideas in my head.
My bitterness or lackthereof will continue to escalate until I exist not beyond a small flicker of light that grows and lights up the furthest corners of reality. I am happy, in other words. Lost my job. Apparently I don’t clean ashtrays and wash glasses fast enough for their sweet yuppy ass little establishment. For those of you who know me and my skills, this is complete crap but still amusing that such an excuse would be pulled from the asses of the conservative ‘we don’t want the tattooed neighborhood girl who goes out in public often with tattoo revealing clothing and knows more people than we thought’. SO amusing. I asked one of the owners just to see what he would say, as if it were not obvious anyhow. Was it the tattoos? “uh. no it wasn’t the tattoos”, not able to even look at me in the face”. Then explained his philosophy, congruent with the other two owners, that made getting the right people and the right image important. In other words, as a bartender and dish washer of every glass in the place, one had to maintain a certain caliber of image that would be deemed appropriate for such a snotty uptight establishment like these assholes would run. No one saw my tattoos while working. Funny thing is this “firing” came within the 3 days I overheard some people saying they had seen me around (including the owners themselves). GAY GAY GAY GAY. Jersey and deanna and bars do not go hand in hand. Considering, in the 4 years I have been bartending in the nyc area, I have never been fired. I was rotated out at webster hall but that was ’99 and face changing in big clubs is to be expected.
Anyhow, outside of that minor drama and gayness, it feels good to be sitting in williamsburg using the computer of a friend ahem of mine, back warmed by the sun. My closet type environment encouraged by my tomb of a basement appartment is not quite so awe inspiring. Actually, basement appartments encourage lazy lackluster attempts at productivity which are usually stunted by the sleep that is encouraged by dark, sunless rooms. I had a dream I crashed my car, got in some lawyer legal issues, and then was offered a train pass on amtrack for 2 weeks since I keep fucking up the job thing. 2 weeks on a train seems not to be the best though. Thailand winter will fucking happen. oh yes.
I am so used to movement, moving, change, that jersey is feeling sort of spent for me lately. And my appartment as well is feeling kind of bla bla bla. I need a change in my view, my space. A job somewhere along the way would be fine too. School will be a good thing to focus on. I am now going to run to get that coffee and peruse through the 3d max studio shit I wanna see. I get to design my own home as a part of a lesson plan my friend has for me.
jumping up and down. singing a little song.
