la la la

So I know I haven't blogged much personal stuff for a while. That's cos there really hasn't been much to talk about. I'm living at home now, with the folks, and it's pretty fuggin boring. But I guess that's a good thing. I feel like my life was overextended like an iceberg breaking up, and there was just no way to put all the pieces back together agin without jumping ship entirely. To mix metaphors.

I'm working on the Institute of Mental Decay which will take place this weekend. More info is here. Vanessa's in charge of putting a room together.

I've started seeing someone. I don't know how this will pan out. I'm not quite the mess I was two months ago, and he's very understanding of my current sitch, but I don't know if we have enough of the basics in common--he's very taken with the cult of personality that LA spins around, and I'm just...not.

I guess we'll see. Today's gonna be busy, working for Mat and pulling my Halloween costume together. I'll put pictures up when I get 'em.

What's everybody doing for Halloween?





And some recent photos, for your viewing pleasure....





Vanessa and Normal, doing their Theoryradio show (http://www.theoryradio.org)--I'm so proud to be able to call them my friends.

And the fan dancer is a detail from one of my paintings I did for the Fall artwalk. It didn't sell, but I really liked it and kinda priced it really high on purpose--I wanted to keep it. :)

Well, that fucking SUCKED



I was just mugged.

Here in the fucking Valley.

I live in Hollywood seven years, walk home by myself after dark all the
time, and nothing ever happens to me. I stop at the ATM in Woodland
Hills on Topanga Canyon, by a busy road and in a brightly lit area, and
I get held up.

One guy poked the point of a knife into my back and the other stood in
front of me holding his waistband, ostensibly to make it look like he
had a gun; I don't think he really did, but I wasn't about to find out.

They wanted me to withdraw $200, the limit at the atm, but I lied and
said I didn't have that much, and so I withdrew $100; I said, Look, I'm
gonna back away from the atm, and you can grab the money and the card
and run, just leave me alone. The second the money clicked out the one
guy grabed it and the other guy, the one with the knife behind me, tore
my purse off my arm, sending me spinnign around and almost falling down.
They ran off.

I was still holding my wallet in my hand.

Yay.

They were just young guys, prolly not over 20, and nervous as hell.
Little homeboy types.

My phone, my wonderful lovable magical cameraphone, the one with every
fucking phone number in the world on it, phone numbers of people I have
no way of reaching now, was in the purse; nothing else of value was in
it. I'm so amazed and grateful I still have my wallet, cos that's where
I keep all the sentimental stuff like photos and notes and things.

I have insurance on the phone, so it'll be replaced asap. It's already
been deactivated. Please send me your phone numbers, people, so I can
put them into my new FUCKING phone.

I'm so enraged I could spit.

I'm also still shaking.

I'm sure the atm got video of both the guys; I stalled as long as I
could. I filed a complete police report and have to go to the bank in
the morning to say, Hi, I was mugged here last night, can you give me my
money back?

I was actually due to meet my folks for dinner right after that, so I
went and met them, and I was mad as hell and shaking and scared, but I
didn't want to be the kind of person who never leaves the house again,
so I went back (with my parents, not alone) to the bank about an hour
and a half later and looked all over the area for my purse in any trash
cans--but no luck. They really booked it out of there. Little fuckers.

God, I sure wish there was a remote "Detonate" function on that phone.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Argh.