Psycho City- Population, Me.

All evidence points to one clear and definite adjective to describe the Hammerhead.. Psycho.

Yea that's me. Let me explain to you how I've come to this realization. Or actually, allow me to tell you in a haiku because as I laughed/kicked myself the next morning I realized such insanity should only be put back together in poetic form. Otherwise, I fear, it's just too pathetic for words.

Hump Day with the ladies

Four Loko, Whiskey, and all things crazy

Invited to a rap show.

Cute boy, in my opinion.

Forgot to eat dinner, Did not forget to drink more.

Dancing asses off.

A broken bra (from dancing)

Hitting on cute boy hard.

Boy says "I have a girlfriend"

Akward Turtle

Stubborn Hammerhead stumbles out.

Kind of regretting calling him out.

FML.

So what makes most of this so akward is that boy is an employee at my local grocery store. God Damn it..... I'm seeing a pattern here. An announcement for my friends out there - if you see me approaching any more Trader Joe employees knock me out with a two by four before I open my mouth cus I'm thinking my luck isn't running too strong there. THANKS.

Better untitled emo bs.

The act is all too consuming, and then you're shrooming
and suddenly, the situation is so dire and sad you want to laugh
The oil spills, trillion dollar bills, and the lonely that sticks at your side like a friend with nothing better to do.
I could crush a can in my fist every time I feel pissed from watching cute indie couples kiss.
I could shut all the windows, watch stupid tv. shows and forget our huge fucking debt exists.
But that isn't very helpful is it?
I'll start with a shower to scrape this sadness off my skin.

Tuesday morning 1, Hammerhead 0.

Who knew a Tuesday morning could be so terribly akward. This morning seemed to be going quite well. How very fooled I was by your seemingly pleasant air,Tuesday...

Woke up around 9:30. Got some donuts with Timber (very unexpected unspoken psychic urge between both of us, only realized as I casually mentioned it walking out the door. Timber wanted donuts too and that is NOT a usual thing for either of us). I digress..... We were on our way out to buy some more coffee for our porch sittin session so we headed off to Safeway after Acme Donuts. Once in Safeway I make a beeline for the coffee aisle. I make it 3/4 the way down the aisle before a vision brings me to a halt. Ahh recognition. Standing there checking out the cereal is the boy I bravely gave my number to in Trader Joes last year. I had discontinued my cell phone about a week of not receiving a call from him. Did he ever call? Who knows. (please see FML.com). So I turn back quickly to see if Timber understands the situation at hand. She does not. I turn back trying to pull the tiny bit of normal hair I have left over my eyes. Death Lock Style.

My shab-ass attempt at hiding my identity is thwarted. Mr. TJ notices me, and recognizes me. He says "Hey". I say "Hi". He says "What's going on?" I say "Not much", staring at the coffee selection like I'm trying to burn holes in the cans with my lazer vision. I choose a brand quickly and dart to the end of the aisle to redenvous with Timber. She asks me, "Did you know that guy just said Hi to you?" I say, "Do you know who that guys is!?!?!??!!" I refresh her mind. She laughs heartily. FUUUCK. Made even more akward by the fact that he keeps popping up in the same sections of the store as us, including self-checkout. I thought I was safe in SE seeing as though his Trader Joe's location is in NE. Thank you, Akward Tuesday Morning for reminding me that it's never quite safe to just roll out of bed in the morning and mosey on out into the public....

Porch Sittin

Mmm. yessss.. The weather is getting just right now for comfortably reclinin on the ole porche and reading myself a book, or in this case, bloggering. Yesterday afternoon Timber and I took it upon ourselves to embibe a glass of wine and dive into some literary pursuits.

My personal conquest, has been a work in progress....... for the last 3 years! It's a 2097 page beast about the culmination of mankind, our planet, our universe, and beyond. Clearly not light reading. And since Mercury is in retrograde (a revisiting of communication, transportation, education, etc) I decided to revisit The Urantia Papers. I have a plan of finishing this book sometime mid year 2012. My father insisted that I read the entirety of this book before I die (I'm on page 725) so I took his word for it and have been gnawing off huge chunks of it ever since. Heaven help me finish this fucking book someday... Oh HAI Master Universe....

Moreover, another nice addition to our porch sittin has been the adoption of Nature, the cat. Or rather, Nature has adopted us. He is the cutest thing ever. His name tag says "Ranger" but I find that to be a retarded name for a cat. Our roommate, Brian, thought we said his name was "Nature" so there you have it. Nature insists that he lives with us, always running into our house and whatnot. I'm willing to play along for now....

I'm hoping all this wonderful lounging going on outside will inspire some more rhymes. Gotsta be getting on my A-game. I've been feeling a wave of creativity starting to flow over me these past few weeks. VENUS IS BACK MUTHAFUCKAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is me in a nut shell. I don't know how I got into this nut shell...

Only a few weeks after Timber Jenny and I moved into our SE abode did we realize that we were not the only tenants of our room. At first, there was the scratching. Tiny reminders now and then that we were not alone. As time went by, the scratching became more frequent, accompanied by the occasional.... I don't know what you call it.... cooing? chirping? whatever.

Now we sit here in absolute certainty knowing that we are fellow tenants to 1 MILLION SQUIRRELS!

We came to this realization last weekend when Timber's mother was visiting. She had befriended a cute little squirrel on our porch which she named, Rocky. Rocky seemed wholesome and innocent, but overly friendly. He had a wheeze and I was curious as to whether he had lung complications. Upon leaving the porch and heading to the second story bathroom Cindy (Timber's mother), heard wheezing at the window..... how peculiar.. And there was Rocky again, wheezing at the window.

Well..... Rocky has pulled a full on BLITZKREIG on our house. 2 weeks ago when exploring the attic for the first time, we found nothing but nut shells. He was toying with us. We are quite sure he and his girlfriend are fornicating in our attic/bedroom walls as I write this. We hear wheezing/chirping/cooing, but much more animated than before. We hear comotion. Furthermore, as our housemate DMLH left the house, he beckoned me outside. On the very tip top point of our house wheezed/chirped/cooed Rocky, triumphantly. He has claimed his dominion. This is the squirly nut house.

Mother fucker better start payin some rent....

Procrastination Station

Hump Day! My day of freedom in the middle of the week where I get to choose what I do and when I will do it. Today could go one of two ways. Scenario numba 1 involves me tackling the huge pile of laundry that has been patiently waiting at the foot of my bed to be put away OR Scenario numba 2 where I attempt to get things done and actually end up following my artistic pursuits and musical wanderings as I navigate around my laundry.

So far the laundry pile is slowly diminishing but it's so hard to get motivated when it takes physical force to hang things in my closet. I have way too many clothes. DAMN YOU FASHION!!!!!! I love you still... My drawers are screaming too. Do I even wear all of these pants? I don't think so.

Currently I am listening to Bon Iver's album For Emma, Forever Ago

You MUST check out this album. I'm not really one for listening to shit on repeat but I will listen to this album on repeat ANY TIME. It's that good. And it harbours a lot of summer memories for me so I guess I have a lot of emotional attachment to this one. Whatever, just listen.

Like I said, I have some artistic pursuits that are calling me. I literally wake up in the morning and this painting is in my face, scowling at me for the lack of love. I guess it's a bit reminescent of summer as well. I'm actually pretty sure the above mentioned album inspired it but I can't bring myself to finish it yet. Bottom line, I need to start painting again. Will today allow it? Perhaps if I stop bloggering.

Knotty Girl

I've been in a relationship for 3 years now... with my dreadlocks. It all started when I was a young girl in middle school searching for a definition of beauty that I could agree with. I saw it every day in school, at the mall, on mtv. Beauty! Ahh so beauty is a size 0 waist, bleach blonde hair, and a Roxy label! Aha! I get it! I'm fuckin on it! And I so was. Wore Roxy every day of my life, highlighted my already blonde hair, and battled with myself behind closed doors about why I couldn't squeeze into those Tiny Wahine jeans cus they fit me perfectly fine last year, damn it!

It was precious. Me and my 20 girl friends looked exactly a like, sometimes wore the same thing to school (fucking bitch!), and spoke like the cast of Legally Blonde. Eventually we grew out of it. I went polar and tried the goth look for awhile. There was something so dark/mysterious/dirty about that whole getup. My parents sat back in horror thinking, "what the hell has happened to our pristine child?" I sat back in defiance saying, "Hey guess what I'm going to peirce next?" I guess we all go through that stage, right? Anywho the point is, during this time I began experimenting with dreads. I would twist off sections, stick it with gallons of hair shit, and VOILA!!!! My mother's nightmare! (Looked in the archives for some evidence, but none of such has been recovered. I might have burned them all. haha) Ma flipped and my step father demanded that I "never do that to (my) hair again."

Okay... I won't... Until I'm 18 and don't give a FUUUUHHHCCCCCKKK. Almost immediately after graduating high school I took the plunge. After so many years of posing as this homecoming cheer vanilla queen it was time to recreate myself, in one sense or another. My boyfriend at the time was fully supportive which made the first year of my transition easier. The first year is always the hardest. I ended up looking like Sideshow Bob for a good portion of it and kept them back more times than not. It was crazy how much people's perception of me changed. You see I was born in raised in a small town in Northern California. You walked into the market and you see 12 people you went to high school with (AT LEAST 12). They're going to have something to say. I got a lot of "what did you do's?" and "when are you going to brush them outs". These questions solidified my decision to keep them.
"Because I fucking want to and this is America people!"

Little did I know that this being America also gives employers the right to not hire me. Going from never having issues getting a job to barely scraping an interview, reality struck. Redding, CA hates my hair!!!*^*&&%!!!!! >:0 Those mutherfuckers.................

From dis to dis

What to do? OOhhhh yea! Move away! GENIOUS! So I came to Portland. Finally I'm not stared at like a psycho every time I go to pick up a sammich at a public establishment! And yet, another block.... Once I turned 21 I realized a few ever so disturbing trends happening in my social life....
Here I am 3 years have gone by since my last solid relationship and I'm starting to feel like there is a coincidence here... Are guys afraid of my hair? I mean I've definitely encountered those who didn't want to touch them (yea... if that wasn't sure enough of a sign that it wasn't going to work out) and then there are those who act like they don't care but really don't show any interest in taking me home to mom (you were boring anyways.) I was seriously starting to feel like I had some how weaved a voodoo curse into my do. I'm currently still battling this, though my closest friends feel that the reasoning is my hair could be projecting an overwhelming and intimidating confidence that most guys don't want to deal with. Fair enough.

But still! Guys do approach me. It only came upon me quite recently why I thought they weren't. Whenever the sharks go sharkin, my beautiful lady companions get hit on instantly. As they should, they're fucking hott malicious predators. But I, on the other hand tread water. I make friendly conversation with people and then... people... all kinds of people, boys and girls come to me and say...
hey I like your hair".

Really? You have nothing else to say to me? I am instantly turned off. It sounds stuck up but it's just how I operate. I finally realize that I do get hit on, it's just the same line from EVERYONE. I appreciate the sentiment but you've got to see where I'm coming from here. *Ssnnnooore zzZZzzz* However, one guy did ask if he could smell my dreads the other day, 10 seconds after meeting me... Original. but creepy. I appeased his desire for a sniff, smiled and nodded when he said "hey they don't smell bad at all, I was expecting gnarly!", and got the hell out of there as soon as possible.

So there is my rant on my hair. It's been quite a conversation piece over the last few years so I have a ton of thoughts on it. Bottom line, I wash them, I'm not a rastafarian, I don't smoke weed (that often), I don't listen to Bob Marley (that often) and I have no intention of getting rid of them anytime soon. I bitch and I moan about all this but in reality, I love my hair. It's easy to maintain, I can still feel beautiful, my bearded dragon can hide in them, I never need a hair tie, and I like to think it challenges people. My mother has now accepted them and they're growing on my boss. It challenges me in a sense as well because I have to project my personality out even further to those who don't know me because most of the time, they get caught up in my appearance. I promise I'm clean and polite! Most of the time.....