so livejournal this is what happensi t when you get lost on your way home and then you find your way home.

i have a three part miniseries for dom to read in the area of story writing telling


i think lindsay de LLLLL and is hotttt so just so you so know so so so


i'm not tired yet t t   t    t   t    t

i like putting spaces in between letters to express that special something unexplainable
i stole it from my d  a   d   d   d   d



soooooo i dunno

karl w/ a k told me to recite the alphabet and then th efirst word i thought of last night, o for ablatrose and that;s all your getting, i fhink  if you want to get.... that is...

um...., i'm just gonna post again cause i just found the keys with the bump/ dashes imp;rinted in them and i think is just changed my life

sa nta clause i think

hm.

Busy Busy Busy Busy forever.  Solution - write a musical and put it on.

I got shittiest girlfriend award this week - ugh.  Maybe if I could just really marry Alex we could be perfectly permanently grumpy forever and ever and have bad sex lives.  Bad idea.  Until then i get to be sorry, feel bad, work harder and buy a lot of chinese food.

My brain keeps wandering into danger zone danger jamie robinson and it's hard to shake it.  Shake it!  I've got that urge for going, call of the wild, need for speed and that just magnifies all the awfull shit that's going on and stomping on my awesome apartment, great job, video games, writing, movies, cuddling.  I just want to staple my feet to the carpet until I settle down and Focus but then I dive into old sticky dirty glue.  Actually like old cum crusted and grinded into a sorta mushroom rue with like squirrel turds is like way grosser. lol....

I want a GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER and the entire world is against me getting my GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING COMPUTER the only 50% practicle 50% toy/fun thing I've ever really wanted - ya know besides threadless t-shirts and all those chicken patties on sale at the co-op. Ok... fine... I know, I know, the kids are all right and balsa wood airplanes fly until they break and you don't have to tell me I'm ok.  ok! 

I want to be good. a good girlfriend a good aunt a good student a good friend, a good unfriend, a good daughter a good filmmaker and good! But it's so god. damn. moooother fu...cking hard.....................

Holy shit!  I forgot to tell you!  I am a Pirate Bat.  Willow, my neice, to be more clear naturally, told me so one day.

OH oh oh oh oh!  I've been getting my ultimate game fix lately and it feels so good and satisfying to play so many cards and video games and like everything else.  It like scatches that part in your body your dildo can't reach.

so movies are pretty sweet lately, it feels good to be naked in 101 BCSB-otch
fine.
i hope it feels good

so Karl's grandma died - everyone called her Lolly - she was one of those did a million things when she was alive and never told her kids now they're discovering all this amazing stuff about her.  She especially liked me and told Karl all about it once, and that means so much to Karl, and it means a lot to me too because then there's that hot chocolate understanding, in like, the real way.

so I basically have a crush on anything that moves lately, so which basically means i want to have sex with everything lately, so which means the entire world keeps asking about my sex life lately.  well whatever fuck that shit, or in my case fucking don't (hagh haagh)

my secret santa got me a dog - thanksman

I just want to fucking cuddle though for real.

cuddle, cuddle, cuddle, cuddle, cuddle, hug, cuddle, cuddle, cuddle, cuddle

finals are all so friikin', likin', fRustrating
I was once a pirate, so I know!

I'm going to a party where I'll be the youngest one there - maybe i'll finally get to try caviar.
ohshit! dog + cuddle = perfect

I've got enough going for me to keep going.  Today's my birthday, and it feels fucking fan•tas•tic.  A bunch of boring awesome stuff happened over break - i'm still all overly stressed about all the shit I have to do, and I'm not getting a dog anymore - but whatevs right.

I've got that bigsmall world ripple effect, y'know that birthday-graduation-new years' impossible possibleness feeling.

plus i've got 21 excuses to get wasted tonight - I mean, c'mon right?  I dunno, I mean about everyone told me not to die trying, while the rest were all do what you gotta do to be happy.  Acorns baby acorns.

spaghetti rocks, fuck the office

love, jamie

I got my wisdom teeth taken out and it SUUUCCCKKKEED not balls but everything else.  Mimi was awesome - she's all pro n' shit.  Thanks Mimi.  It's like she wins.  Karl helped with all the gross 'i really need help' shit.  Kind of really gross, but some of it was all right.  There was one point where there was blood coming out of my mouth and through my teeth and it looked all bad ass n' shit.  It was like I got punched in the face and survived.  I wish I would've taken a picture of it and photo-shopped the hell out of it but that's not really a bad ass kind of thing to do - I had to stick to character y'know.  Other parts weren't so bad ass like because I got stuck between the tv and my trunk for like an hour and a half when I was all home alone n' shit.  Lame laaaaaammmmmee.  I don't really remember much from the surgery, random boring shit but my most vivid memory is when they held up a turquoise thing and said, "we're going to have to drill now ok?"  creepy.

If it were my Mom bringing me to the dentist office she'd probably just keep reminding me how inconvenient it is and how she's not going to be able to do anything but wait in the waiting room then take me to McDonald's afterwards and then scoff about how she's running out of money again then drop me off at home then get a call form her boyfriend then realize that she just happened to have taken the day off to take care of me then go on a day trip with him to his land with his children and tell me 'you can just call me on my cellphone if you need me sweetie oh you'll be just fine, right?  you're old enough, right? yea - oh but my cell phone's dead.... well you know the neighbor's number right?'  then leave and spend the night.  She'd come back and yell at me for the mess I made.  That's a true story.


I really want a milk shake and I really want to be able to swallow and move right, I really want it to stop hurting too.  I went to a get together thingy for an hour last night cause I felt all stuck n' shit and it was awesome everyone was all chill and happy and the cat and stuff it made me feel like a bunch of times better to be around people.  Thanks friends.

i'm so fucking pissed right now, i don't think i've ever been so fuckpissed. 

It's kind of crazy moving this time because it's never going to be the same and it's always going to be like this not that this isn't good and everything but yea!

I miss people and Alex and stuff - shit could just come out of my mouth, then I could continue what I was doing.

I'm one of those people that lives with her boyfriend now.  But I didn't really think of it like that until once Keri was over and said, "I remember when the first couple in my group of friends moved in together ya know, bloo blahh and blaha black, and we were all just so excited for them and glah da da fa fu fu fu fu....  She made it seem like some sort of milestone in the journey of life to mark the date and forever keep a box full of receipts from our first toilet bowl plunger and scraps from our first paper towel.  Gross.

When I first came to college everyone was all 'you guys are dating but you're like 2 different people, that's awesome!'  but that was just way leftover from high school mentality. 

If anyone were watching I think they'd think we were really cute, Karl and I, cause it's like we're constantly playing off each other.  It really is a lot of plain ol' fun living with Karl.  He makes me happy.  We get all excited about little shit and then we cook and clean and it's almost fun scrubbing pots because it only helps.  Everyone once in a while we just run around screaming, literally and all.

I woke up this morning to a young man talking all cutsie to his dog - Ruth - "c'mere Ruth!  Ruth, oh Ruth, you silly little dog!  What are you doing Ruth? What-are-you doooooinnnng Ruth?  Ruth-Ruth, oh Ruth c'mon..."  I have no qualms with people talking to their dog except that Karl's boss is named Ruth and It freaked me out for that first milisecond. 

One of our first nights here we were really exhausted and stressed and Karl got all upset because I get cold easy and like it hot, and he gets hot easy and likes it cold.  At that moment he was just so worried that us living together was just going to be impossible because he couldn't imagine us being comfortable ever.

I dropped my farmer's market parsley and I hope it survives.

I've been having an excellent summer.  Supurb.  Honestly.  Dramatically.  It's never really been like this before, and I like it.  Ok.  I know.  It's um like a crisp fresh lunch at 1:30 when you haven't eaten all day with like orange soda in a clear glass and grass and full lungs.

Thanks to Megan I work at this super sweet place (we're having a PIZZA PARTY tomorrow - I mean c'mon who doesn't want that?!) that's so unstressful and just plain nice, and crisp and chill.  I label the books at the library - you know, in the back. 

The thing about my job though is that I treat each book differently.  Not on purpose or anything but I was checking my shelf of processed books and whatever and the ones that were more interesting or intriguing to me got better aligned stickers and tape and such, and the shitty ones that come through were a bit more crooked.  Can you be all prejudice and shit towards books or something?  So like Jumanji looked even better to read cause I did this nice job on that batch and the thriller romance We'll Never Tell looks even worse of a read, and it's all  because of me.  Since, my moral responsibility has decreased so dramatically in this job than a few previous that I feel like I'm fucking up the library with my shitty sticker placements.  The Iowa City Public Library is about to implode on itself because I'm denying each citizens it's right to a fair read.  Help?!

OH, I'm officially having so many dreams about the indigo girls lately.  If that makes sense.

I've decided finals week isn't worth my time writing about.     

I've decided that this summer will be very good, not good, not bad, but very good.

I've decided that referencing Holstein like I just did up there was in pathetic denial of something, I mean it wasn't even a quality reference.

~after utter failure Jamie has switched into an alternate mode of communication~

I've not decided what to make of my finals, including my movie.

I've not decided what the hell my summer is going to be all the fuck fuck fuck about, stickers.

I've not decided anything at all.

Fuck, right?

blaa to it all, blaa blaa blaa blaa blaa blah, fuck the police, crap shit fuck damn your mom, my mom and even Alex (well not really alex, dramatic effect and all, ya know?)

I kind of just want alcohol and an orgasm.  I know that's normal and ok so yea.

I talk in my sleep a lot.  Starting with a 5th grade sleepover at Melissa's birthday party at a cabin where we put water ballons in our swimsuit crotches and tops and played it-ball (this was after the apple orchard birthday party in which we were it-pickers) and watched a pirated version of Titanic.  I apparently sat up in my bed and announced to the cabin that 'I color.... with the color... red'.  My most recent outburst was a 'Help.  uhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhh...'  Great.  I'm not aware of my night time ramblings, I only get to hear about these after the fact.  For all I know they could not be happening at all, afterall wouldn't we all want to live in a fantasy world where everyone knew what was going on in your life but you, telling you about santa claus, proving it and then paying your taxes for you while you sit beneath rainbows, puppydogs, and rainbow colored puppydogs.  I don't think I've ever really given anything away, but then would the listener ever tell.  Do I even have any secrets?  In a way though I'm giving tons away about my self, even though most of the time it's incoherent.  I talk the most when I'm stressed or worried, like this summer shouting for my boyfriend in my sleep or on a trip to New York starring my cousin in the face rambling about plane crashes.  Creepy.  Maybe I can make money one day turning my mummbles into a popularly addictive radio station, and I can make t-shirts, and hire a professional scribe to sit there the entire night so when I wake up I can tell them all about my dreams.  I'll let you all ride on my super jumbo jet.  Whatever right.  Well I think it's time for some sleepy time tea, goodnight

ZZZzzzZZZZzzzZZZZzzzZZZ 'I.. I was BORN with, with a tail! and the fuckers cut it off, owww.w....' ZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZ

not true by the way.  I guess it could be though.

So it begins here? Created and began and born at the last gasp of spring break.  It's kind of like those broken condom conceptions that ends up working out because it was time.  No worries or anything.  I hope that maybe a new brain child beginning will be a good outlet.  Or at least a forward moving distraction from everything else in my life.  Right?