Circus Tour Merch

This is the Britney Spears lyrics scarf. It’s black with white lettering, made of light t-shirt fabric and is between six and seven feet long.  The cloth is plastered with phrases from Britney’s songs.

The second view is a sample of the font.

Aerodynamics

Dreams that I don’t care to remember, but do: is it how my day begins or just how the night ended?

Why have I been sleeping in for nearly an entire week? I run out of energy, get tired, take naps. And I ask the boys making minimum wage, the cage fighter, the frat boy who stumbles around trying to get himself sober enough to work for daddy’s company, “Just wondering. Can you get any speed?”

But it’s always about vicodin. Weed. Occasional sprinkles of mushrooms or x. It’s trendy to get lost, get fucked up, get tranquilized. Talk about the last fucking thing I need. I see sushi bars rising from trailer home carpet and I rummage through the childhood closets of friends I had in elementary school. I see enough weird shit.

You guys are weak little pushers. So much for well roundedness. So much for offering a variety.

Belated VDay Update

I have to give My Guy mad props for this year’s Vday loot. He baked me a chocolate cake with chocolate filling, bought a big bouquet and went shopping for Cooking Mama, Swedish Fish, Hello Kitty scrapbooking and an audio card that tells me how awesome I am when I open it.

A PLUS PLUS.



Last Night

Forgive the grammar – I’m still tired and I have to type quickly before I forget everything.

My parents’ barn was taken over and restored by some weird neighbor-type people. They had reinforced it with this grey brick, making it look more like a castle. I went out there and yelled something like “You see where we mow the grass and where the tall forest line is? Everything on this side of the trees is OUR property!”

And I was thinking, I hope they don’t rip up their materials before they go. Maybe we can make an offer.

Still in my back yard, now it’s winter. Two large wolves. White and light grey. They’ve been handled. By me? I’m petting them but… they’re sort of chewing on me with their pointy teeth. I’m watching them very carefully, I want to seem strong and a little pushy, but not enough to make them want to attack. Sometimes they morph and show features like a golden retriever, as if it takes a mix to spare my life.

I walk up to the back door and my parents let my tiny dog out to pee. I’m yelling, “NO NO there were wolves!” I run out to the little pen and scoop up Gigi and a small pug puppy. Rush them back in, looks on their faces like they had been hoping to pee.

Bigger worries, pups, bigger picture.

I walk out into the snow and the wolves are still there, wrestling, sniffing at the ground. I’m stomping, yelling, seeing if they’ll run away but they just come closer.

Scene changes to a home. My dead grandmother’s home, long like a trailer and not anything like her actual home was, is lined with my paintings. I don’t know how I know – I’ve never painted them. One is a blue cave, crayola blue and teal, one black rock in the center of the water. It is as if she lined her counter tops with them for comfort or recognition. I think about how nice the house would actually look without all the paintings.

Bleachers spring up from the walls and carpet. People start rushing in, we’re seated, I’m suddenly with family, and we are served sushi.

A topless woman outside is selling some weird animal activist stuff. I ride a roller coaster with my friends and she appears again, selling photos of our ride. I am shocked that we all look rather glamorous, bright shining hair under the sun, flying, beaming faces, wide open laughs, pretty. She has like three different shots but they’re nearly impossible to pick out from her hand because my brain keeps changing the photos – I pick them, look at them and then they’re of other people.

I pull one up closely to my face. The girl I chose to sit next to sort of blocks my face with her arm. Another shot of us, I’m looking to see who I was sitting next to – the dream sequence already fading, and I can’t remember the ride or my crew of people, at all.
It’s Mandi. Even though I would have remembered that, I’m thinking in my dream, this photo has somehow created her. She looks good with short hair. And I am briefly sad.

I woke up really wanting a pug puppy.

Jump Start

Woke up this morning, a dream fresh on my mind. Text’d an old friend about an old friend, all within the haze of sleep.

Justin said: Aww, you miss the Snake.

I asked him what was going on, masked as chit chat, even though I happen to mean WITH US, WITH THE WORLD. WHAT ARE WE DOING.

Justin said: Married life, having a kid in August.
Autumn: Oh my GOD.

Rather than reaffirming my fears with an “I know” or “Tell me about it”, he simply says: haha.

And I think, I was Old Girl. Now they’re even growing up, behind me.