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lake allison
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Thursday, June 30, 2005

They say it's scientific. *sigh*
I am Genghis Khunt, the Random Brutal Sex Master.
The cartoon's face even looks like mine.

Everyone, take this test and tell me what you get.

posted at 4:23 PM |

In other news..

Authorities in northwest suburban Buffalo Grove today were investigating a suspicious fire in which the bludgeoned bodies of a minister and his daughter were found inside their charred home.


Double murder/house fire right down the street.

posted at 11:21 AM |

We all know I am an unreliable narrator. And sort of a scumbag, sometimes.

I'm trying to get better about these things, to calm down and find some stability in myself. I know it's my responsibility to improve and accepting help from friends, now and then is okay..
but sometimes it goes too far and I am sucked into co-dependencies.

I attract Fixers who promise that they have the answer to all of my problems, that they can whip my life into shape by dictating my every action and keeping close watch of me 24/7. They run my life so they don't have to run their own. And silly me, I fall for it nearly every time.

They strike when I've just gone through some messy fight with a friend or lover. They seem so sweet at first. Finally, someone who cares about me. Someone who won't hurt me like so-and-so did. Someone who will keep me from going crazy and will make those oh-so-difficult life choices for me.

Soon after, I find that my Fixer is not perfect. They have their own big issues to solve. I find this endearing and then try to fix them, as well. Now we are full blown co-dependents. The archetypal "blind leading the blind".

The following phenomena then take place:
1. I ditch my personal goals/aspirations for new plans that revolve around the other person. In my head, I tell myself it's because "they know best".
2. I rarely talk to my other friends. When I do, it's brief and strained. I don't return their calls and emails.
3. If anyone close to me points out that I'm in an unhealthy relationship, I snap at them and defend my co-dependent at all costs.
4. I start doing things I don't like to do, to please my co-dependent. Like going to emo shows, despite my distaste for whining and horn-rimmed glasses. Conversely, my co-dependent starts doing things they don't like in order to please me. Like going on walks in the woods, despite their pathological fear of insects.
5. I don't write and I start to eat too much. "He'll love me even if I'm fat and lazy."

Now that I've noticed this pattern in myself, maybe I can prevent it from happening again. It's not like my life is ruined, but I'm certainly set back a few months. If you see this happening to me and say so, as mentioned in #3 above, I will probably yell at you. =/

So don't try to fix me. Just be my friend. And I'll figure things out on my own, eventually.

posted at 10:27 AM |

hehehe
Me? Vaginal references? No..
It's not like every poem I've written contains the word "cunt".

The Vaginal-Reference-Making Dyke

75%

The Femme Fatale

75%

The Bohemian Dyke

50%

The Student Dyke

50%

The Granola Dyke

50%

The Stud

45%

The Sprightly Elfin Femme

40%

The Hipster Dyke

40%

The Quasi-Gothic Femme

40%

The Pretty-Boi Dyke

35%

The Little-Boy Dyke

35%

The Magic Earring Ken Dyke

15%

The Surprise! Dyke

15%

What Type of Lesbian Are You? (Inspired by Curve Mag.)
created with QuizFarm.com

posted at 8:58 AM |

It's almost 8am and I've been up for 2 hours: tossing and turning, listening to my stomach rumble.
Which sucks because I wanted to sleep as long as possible, to kill more waking hours of the day. Less empty time to fill.
I wish I could put my body in storage until the next school year. I could hibernate.
Or I wish I wouldn't have given up my job and internship to follow a stream of crazy promises.

I'm so fucking gullible.
Now I'm bored and stuck.
Today's mission: Figure out who my friends are and give them a call.

posted at 7:42 AM |

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Today is okay.
I said NO to the nurse in my dream when she wanted to give me a shot.

posted at 12:17 PM |

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

The fibers of my sanity are splitting one by one.
It's worse than last summer.

posted at 10:10 PM |

And now for something happy.
I have been "tagged" by Viki.
Horray!
=)

***

What 5 Things do you miss about your childhood?

But first the rules to this meme game: Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog's name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect:


1. Searchin' for a Rainbow
2. Aint it Amazing?
3. Spit Noodle & Joey
4. VikiBabbles
5. Lake Allison

Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count. (No one is obligated to participate).

1.
2. If you want to do it, the meme is yours.
3.


Okay, so, on to the 5 things I miss about my childhood.


1. My attention span. When I was a kid, I was focused. The anti-ADD child. I could sit still for hours, scribbling ideas in my journal, made sure to practice my violin every day, constructed elaborate forts in the woods out of fallen trees. I was dead serious and rarely bored or restless. Sometimes, it was fun enough just to stare at the wall and let my imagination wander. I didn't need the TV, I didn't even need friends to keep me amused (which is good, since the other kids thought I was strange). But the older I get, the more distracted I am. I can't stop moving, doing, always onto the next thing, can't stick with a project. The textbook ADD adult. If I still had my childhood attention span, I'd have finished and published two novels, by now.

2. The station wagon. My mom had this enormous, hideous brown Ford Fairmont wagon. It was always stuffed with kids: me, my sisters, our friends, kids my mom was babysitting. We'd ride around town, blasting Tom Petty, running errands and dropping kids off at various after-school activities. The wagon would backfire and we'd all scream in fear and delight. My mom was always in a hurry, so she'd never fully stop the car. Instead, she'd slow down and say, "Tuck and roll, kids. Tuck and roll!" Sometimes we'd get to sit in the back of the station wagon, where there were no seats and my mom would drive "crazy" on side roads, swerving so we'd get knocked around and we'd laugh and squeal. The sucky thing was, the station wagon leaked fumes, which probably wasn't good for my growing brain and may account for the problems explained in #1.

3. K-mart. I spent much of my formative years at the Wheeling K-mart. I'd walk there alone, or with a friend (though as I mentioned above, I didn't usually keep friends for very long) and we'd spend the day learning about life from the K-mart shelves. We tested out make-up in the beauty section, read about Batboy in the tabloids, had shoe-fights and played hide and seek in the clothes. We'd dial phone sex numbers from the payphones and listen to the slutty, panting voice on the recording. If you like hot, horny girls press 1. *giggle* If I was there alone, I'd buy a teenybopper magazine or an Archie comic and sit in the food court, reading and munching on stale popcorn. As I aged into a surly, junior high kid.. let's just say I became quite the master lip gloss thief. They've closed down the store since then. I wish it was still that easy to kill an afternoon.

4. Going to Georgia. Each year, my grandma and I would ride down to Georgia to visit my great-grandma Alice (my namesake). On the ride down to Georgia, my grandma would slip and tell me bawdy stories: "The first time your grandpa and I made love..." We would stop in the Smokey mountains to buy souvenirs, like giant pencils and leather moccasins, then spent the night at Motel 6 and I'd get to soak in the hot tub like a grown-up. Once in Georgia, we'd stay with great-grandma. Every time someone opened the door to her trailer, she'd scream out "Snakes! Snakes!"

5. My mom. If you knew her, you know she was cool. She was tall and pretty, had tons of energy and enthusiasm, her voice was booming and loud. She was always singing, chasing kids around, scouring garage sale tables for treasures, tending her fabulous garden and making art, like stained glass windows. She seemed to live at twice the speed of a normal person. She taught me that nature is sacred and to add a creative touch to whatever I do. Though I kind of suspect she wouldn't be too happy with me, if she were alive now.

posted at 12:19 PM |

Monday, June 27, 2005

Sorry for all the bitch-rants.
But here's another.

I've come to realize that though I have a lot of friends when things are going well for me, most will turn and point their Finger of Divine Judgement at me the second things go bad. Like it's my fault stuff sucks. Which it partially is. I've fucked up a few times, but so have they. Only, I don't have the love and cash of my family to fall back on when I fail.

But I shouldn't blame them. They don't get it. And maybe somewhere in their stuck-up, coddled minds they think bad luck is contageous and that if they hang out with me, they won't have the constant steam of support from their families to carry them to safe ground whenever they fail.

I stand as a reminder that sometimes, life will trap you. Sometimes there is no exit light beaconing you out of the tunnel of destitution. Bad shit happens to "good people" (it might be a stretch to call myself that) so it could happen to them, too. That's what they're scared of.

I am the black cat walking under the ladder, knocking over the salt on Friday the 13th. Don't cross my fucking path.

posted at 8:59 PM |

I won't be on AIM or checking my email for a while.
There's a few smug, heartless motherfuckers I'd like to avoid.
If you have my number, you can call me.

I didn't ask for any of your advice. It doesn't hold any merit because you aren't me, you haven't lived my life. If your life is set to the easy level, how the hell can you tell me how to live when things get hard? You've giving directions to a place you've never been. So shut the fuck up. Stuff is bad enough without your patronizing instructions.

posted at 3:55 PM |

Sunday, June 26, 2005

I am completely creatively blocked. Trapped in this dirty house, in a nowhere town with no car to free me. I'm deprived of excitement, since I can't get to the city, deprived of proper nutrition, since I can't get to the grocery store and therefore am too sick and bored to write a word. It feels mean to make myself work when everything sucks so bad. Writing used to be fun. It was what I did to escape, when I was a kid and stuck in this fucking place.

But I didn't know better, then. I'm corrupted now. I've tasted briefly the kind of life I want, a fast one filled with many interesting people and being the brat I am, I won't accept less. But I can't get out of here until I get a job, can't get a job without a car. I'll be stuck in this living room, isolated and stunted until I finally off myself.

And yes, that's an idle threat. Don't call the ambulance on me, for fucksake that never helped anything. There's just a few things in life I can't tolerate: hunger, boredom, lonliness and feeling trapped. And right now, my life is comprised solely of these things. So let me bitch. I have the right.

My enemies.. I know you are reading this and laughing. Ah ha ha stupid bitch Allison, stuck in her dad's house because she didn't do the right thing like we did and get a nice job at the townie bar or the ice cream shop or the movie theater. She wasted her time at the bullshit art school, instead. She rejected her steady boyfriends for a stream of jerks. She's too fucking snobby and weird to be friends with us. The real people.

Well, fuck you guys still. I'd rather be alone all summer than spend one more night drowning in your gossip, your claustrophobic notions of acceptability. I know, deep down you only hate me because I'm braver than you.

Yeah, you. You're not a writer. What have you written? Your myspace profile? No dear, that doesn't count. Where are you published? A bar napkin? Show me, really I'm curious. Fucking poser.
Spite me, actually write something. I'll be proud of you.

*whew* I feel better.
Me and Derek will go have lunch, then I'll finish my chapter.
I just needed to rant.

posted at 2:39 PM |

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Appetizer
What time do you usually wake up each day? If you could choose your wake-up time, when would it be?


Hm.. it depends on if I have school or not. If I have school, I wake up around 8 in a nervous frenzy and pull on some ripped-up clothes that don't match, which is cool since thats the style at my school, then run out the door 20 minutes late. If I don't have school, I usually wake up some time between 11 and 1 in a pool of sweat with my pulse racing after a nightmare. Last night, I had a nightmare I went to Bible camp and they kicked me out for giving the children bad ideas. An armed soldier escorted me off the grounds.

Soup
When was the last time you bought groceries? What store did you go to? Name 3 things you purchased.


Ohh man! Last time I went grocery shopping was at Ralphs in LA, last week. I nearly got knocked off my feet when some easy-breezy Californians hit me with their cart, and of course did not apologize. Three things that we bought were: orange juice and soy milk and ice cream, which we feasted upon while riding out of that ugly city the following night.

Salad
How many books have you read so far this year? Which was your favorite and why?


I've read about 13 books, so far this year. That's about 1 every two weeks. Not bad. My favorite would have to be Crash by J.G. Ballard. It's about people who get in car crashes on purpose, for erotic gratification. The calm and scientific voice of the narrator will have you lusting for beads of semen on the intsrtument pannel, for Vaughn's scars and the rainbow colored stream of piss and oil flowing about Dr. Helen Remmington's feet.


Main Course
What is something you consider to be very elegant? In particular, what about that item/place/person conjures up the feeling of elegance?


I consider martinis to be very elegant. The long, tall glass is so delicate and they're pretty tasty, but I don't usually drink them since, as we all know I am hideously poor. However, the last time I drank one was in a very unelegant circumstance. We were gathered in a kitchen, trying to make beer in coffee makers. Ughh it smelled awful! And wasn't the best mix of people. So the martini only knawed at the walls of my nauscous stomach.


Dessert
Who taught you how to drive?


An awful toad named Mr. Wendell. He was our high school driver's ed teacher. He'd sit in the passenger's seat and pick his nose and would grab the wheel from me, leaving rock-sized boogers stuck to it. He'd do this a lot, since I don't know my right from left. I was all doped up on lithium, so I shouldn't have been driving anyway.

Friday's Feast

posted at 1:25 PM |

Friday, June 24, 2005

Bunny Suicides

posted at 3:30 PM |

Somethings missing.

posted at 3:26 AM |

Bad tire-
stuck a few hours in Missouri
(don't trust a state with a name like that..)

Now I'm home and I know it was all my brain playing tricks on me.
Just a weird mirage.

Time to try and make my lame life bearable.
It doesn't work to run away.

posted at 3:00 AM |

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

So let me give you the whole story.

My gentleman was not exactly clear with me on the full extent of the suckiness in LA: the city itself, his various "issues". He wanted me out there in hopes I would make the situation better. I went out there because I don't have a real home, back in Chicago and thought he and I would be good together. Bad motivations. Mean town with ugly palm trees.

Last night, I got fed up. I told him I was leaving and booked a flight back to Chicago. He freaked out and started packing and said he wanted to come home, too and would drive us. So we cancelled my flight and left at 10pm: rode out of California with our middle fingers in the air, eating ice cream and blasting Guns n Roses.

D: It's ironic this song is on, since we're technically leaving the "paradise city".
A: No, we're driving to it. Come on, the grass isn't green in fucking LA.

After driving for 15 hours with no air conditioning (as I mentioned before) we are here in New Mexico for the night. The moon is full, the desert is pretty. We'll try to get the AC fixed tomorrow.

In other news, despite my obsessive efforts at skin protection, I got a tan. Well, on me its more of an "orange." =(

I'll be home the day after tomorrow.

posted at 10:32 PM |

700 miles in the desert with no air conditioning.

You were right, I should have taken the plane.

posted at 8:26 PM |

Monday, June 20, 2005

Tomorrow, I'm going home.

posted at 8:57 PM |

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Today's trip was a bust- I don't want to talk about it.

Also, it turns out the Erotic Museum is not a real museum, just a fucking art gallery with a clever name. Not that I don't like art, but it's nowhere as thrilling as a display of historic bondage gear.

posted at 10:02 PM |

I'm not really into hanging out in LA. I'd rather save all my social urges for when I'm back at my friendly Chicago bars with my friendly Chicago friends.
The natural beauty surrounding LA intrests me more.

Yesterday: Went to the beach again. The back of my thighs are lobster-colored and hurt very bad. But ocean waves are so fun. They're powerful and don't smell like sewage, like lake waves. I might miss them after I leave.

Today: We're riding up I-5 to look for the mountains or the desert. I want to see a roadrunner and find out if they really go "Meep!"
I'll make sure to wear lots of sunscreen.

Tomorrow: WRITING.

Next Week: There's something called the Erotic Museum. I'm picturing shelves and shelves of antique dildos. There's no way I'll leave LA without seeing it. If you want an erotic postcard, e-mail me your mailing address.

posted at 1:18 PM |

Friday, June 17, 2005

Only 2 weeks of summer-
I'm going insane already.

There was an earthquake here. I didn't feel it.

posted at 12:27 PM |

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

I'm in LA.
No culture shock here.
The people are not all tan-blonde-cokesnorting-robo-snobs like I was told they would be. I guess to someone accustomed to living in the city of Chicago, this place could seem like planet bizarre, but I'm a suburban girl. Basically, LA looks like a giant Schaumburg, but with bums and palm trees (or as I call them, q-tips of the sky) and some of the houses are painted garish shades of pink and green and there's neon lights in places there shouldn't be. Otherwise, it's oddly familiar.

Hollywood, itself looks more like DeKalb infused with the population of Lakeview. Big, but run down houses, much like a college town. A mixture of hip young people and random creeps, much like the Belmont and Halsted area.

I always wondered why kids at Columbia College dressed the way they do. Sort of deshievled and stuck in the 80's. Now I get it. They're trying to dress like LA.

Yesterday, we (meaning Derek and I) went to Venice beach and swam in the ocean. Salt water is fucking weird and tastes awful, but the waves are huge and awesome. I wish I knew how to surf.

So I'm pretty happy here in my exile. I'd love to hear how you're doing, dear reader, so feel free to send me an e-mail or give me a call.

posted at 12:10 PM |

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Hi.
Just so you know, I am leaving the state, tomorrow.
I'm flying off to LA to star in a new film called "Art School Anal Part 5."
They tell me I'll be a big star in no time.

Haha no, not really.
I'm actually going out there to stay with a friend (? maybe more) of mine.
Don't worry, he's very nice and will take good care of me.
I just need to get out of Chicagoland for a while.
I'll be back in 2 weeks to 3 months. No matter what, before the school year starts in September.
I will keep blogging while I am away.

This is the list of items forbidden on airplanes by the Transportation Security Administration.
Alas, I must leave my meat cleavers, ice picks, cattle prods, throwing stars and tear gas at home.
Also, SCISSORS ARE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN!

posted at 9:08 PM |

Saturday, June 11, 2005

Best invention EVER!

Aww are there spikey-wikeys in your weenie, Mr. Rapist?
Ha!

posted at 9:26 PM |

Dream

I had sex with this girl from my sociology class
and her brother.
I liked it a lot.
Then a 2-year-old girl got a little white rabbit stuck up her cunt
and I tried to dig it out with my fingers.
She said, "only daddy can do that..."

posted at 8:45 PM |

Friday, June 10, 2005

You know, putting a + after a B doesn't make it any less of a B.

God damn science class.
*cry*

posted at 5:19 PM |

some nights
your ghost will
masturbate me
then will take me
out for breakfast

posted at 2:19 PM |

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Dream:

While going through my graduation audit, the advisor at school found that even though I had enough credits for my oh-so-valuable BA in Fiction Writing, I couldn't graduate next December, because I had not yet finished high school.


"They must've just wanted me out of there quick. I was kind of a troublemaker back then, always getting in fights with the popular kids." I explained. "The high school told me I graduated early. Those fuckers lied!"

"Well, I'm sorry Allison. Columbia won't let you graduate without a high school diploma, so you'll have to go back and complete it."

So I did. Back to Buffalo Grove H.S., hotbed of clique warfare and post-Columbine administrative paranoia. The security guards searched me at the door and I began the senior year I never had.

Only this time around, the popular kids liked me. They let me sit at their lunch table and join in on throwing french fries at the geek table, where I used to sit. They liked me because Bruno, my chocolate lab could talk.

"Hey Bertha! Like, how 'bout an extra slice of cake?" he called out as a chubby girl passed our table. The popular kids burst out in violent laughter and tossed Bruno chunks of their lunch.

Though I still thought the popular kids were boring, with their snore-inspiring fashion critique and rambling stories of summer break in Cancun, I put up with it since it was sort of nice not to be picked on, for once. I bleached my hair and bought a couple of 500-dollar Abercrombie outfits and sat through the football games with my new friends.

But I could tell the "popular" act was tourmenting Bruno. Whenever he and I were alone, he would look at me with those sad, dog eyes and beg, "Please, you can send me up or down." Bruno motioned toward Heaven, then Hell with his paw, "Just kill me, already."

posted at 3:56 PM |

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Yipee! Another silly quiz.. because my head hurts too bad to formulate sentences of my own.
I don't know who this girl is, but I like her metal bra..

You are Lili St. Cyr!
You're Lili St. Cyr!


What Classic Pin-Up Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

posted at 11:54 PM |

Yes, about 8 out of 10 entries on this blog, as of late have had to do with sea creatures, in some way. They're just so smooth and wet and gorgeous.. yeah, I'm worried about me, too. =/

Seahorse
Seahorse


?? Which Creature Of The Sea Are You??
brought to you by Quizilla


posted at 8:12 PM |

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Today in science!

Weed: the new birth control.

They should hand that out at the clinic.

Dolphins use tools.

And once they grow legs, they'll take over the world.
See, they're already being trained.
20 Million dollars a year? For attack dolphins?
While college students starve!!!?

News flash: Sometimes women don't enjoy sex.
"It's not just related to whether the genitals work, it's related to how they're feeling, it's related to their hormones, it's related to their relationship."

posted at 8:58 PM |

ScorpionHela: ughh cars are evil
ScorpionHela: they break and ruin your life
Swigadig18: so do men

posted at 11:05 AM |

Monday, June 06, 2005

To all my homies going to Prague:
Write well, be safe and say hi to Kafka's ghost for me.

=)

posted at 10:08 AM |

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Horizon to horizon
it would arc just like a rainbow-
magic penis of the sky

(please don't hit me in the eye)

posted at 11:34 PM |

Last night, me and Katie went to a townie bar in Arlington Heights and observed what happens if you stay in the Northwest Suburbs too long.

If you're a man, you'll grow a gut, lose your hair and blather on loudly about your high school escapades. "Dude, our team totally kicked your ass in '95!"

If you're a woman, you'll also grow a gut and blather on loudly about high school. But you'll wear a glowing pin on your tit that reads, I glow when I'm horny.
Or, if you're gorgeous, you'll wear your fanciest dress with matching sandals and desperately try to pretend the dive bar is your senior prom and that Bud Light you're sucking is the quarterback's dick.

"Poor things." we sighed.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Bitchy Columbia snobs!
But come on, the obnoxious fucks who end up at these townie bars are the same ones who made my high school years a non-stop stream of taunts and wanting to die.


posted at 1:40 PM |

Save the dolphins! Don't use condoms!

posted at 2:14 AM |

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Characters from my dream:

~ Redneck guy who purposely gets himself thrown in loony bins because he has a thing for loony girls, gets hot for the hospital gowns and drug-numb dispositions.

~ 2-year-old baby boy who's a porn star due to his abnormally large infant weenie. Grown women fuck and suck on him in the movies. He likes it.

posted at 12:45 PM |

Friday, June 03, 2005

The hottest thing since whale dong

A crab orgy!

posted at 9:37 PM |

What I learned this year '04-'05:

* Sex sells, but isn't everything
* How to calm down
* How to lose your best friend over money
* All about stem cells and cloning
* All about dolphins
* How to get evicted
* How to break up with someone 3 times without becoming enemies
* The suburbs are brutal and unforgiving
* The perfect drink goes by the name "vodka tonic"
* How to coach a take-a-place
* There is redemption after crime
* Cat-o-9 tails feel better than riding crops
* The Steeplechase (ahh!)
* A new use for Mazola
* How to get your hair the pinkest pink
* Editors are people, too
* How to lose 3 boyfriends and 1 girlfriend in under a month
* Sometimes they really are "just jealous"
* Good friends will sing Spice Girls with you at karaoke
* How to get someone fired
* People don't like vomit
* Car sex just isn't fun after age 18.. unless you're J.G. Ballard...
* Home is not a cop out
* Push that boulder, or it will crush you

posted at 7:32 PM |

My car finally died of starvation.
My finals are done.
I'm leaving in 10 days.

posted at 2:35 PM |

. maystar designs
.
.