Diary #11

 Lola. Age 12.

June 26, 1994

Dear Book,

Hi, Well a lot has happened since 5th grade. Now the boys I thought were cute, are totally ugly. I even played "Spin the bottle." Believe me I love 6th grade.

Love ya,
Lola

And so this entry officially marks when I became absolutely intolerable as a human. I blame the raging hormones and the public school system.

Some things to note about this entry:
- I definitely put "spin the bottle" in quotes.
- The O in "Love ya" was in the shape of a heart.
- Believe me? Believe me?? You're a diary. It's all lies. 6th grade was the worst.

Adventures.

Exploring the city is extra exciting as of late. Contributing factors: bike riding and having excellent partners in crime. I cannot stress the importance of having a good partner in crime who is down for whatever. (dfw) Bonus points for texts that says "what you doing? get here." And "here" is awesome.

In a recent adventure, we discovered Uncle Barry's. Great beer selection. Really nice, hilarious bartenders. Outdoor space! Also, they played Isaac Hayes - Hot Buttered Soul last night, which sealed the deal in my heart. Uncle Barry's is my new favorite. I'll be there again this week to solidify my status as a regular.

Walk on by...

omfg

About a Bee.

There was a dead bee on the subway this morning.
A tiny little corpse on the center seat,
with its microscopic legs in the air.

Normally I run from bees.
But I sat down next to it and wondered how he got there.
And I wondered how the bee took the F train during rush hour.

(before work. before morning coffee. before the newspaper. before we ctl+alt+del into our hourly identities.)

Maybe the bee was a stowaway,
temporarily affixed to someone’s backpack

Maybe he took all the wrong trains instead of the right ones,
and just gave up.

Maybe he was simply tired of flying and laid down for a rest,
only to break down.

But you can’t ask a dead thing where it went wrong
Or what it could have done differently.
Or what you could have done to help.

So I got up and went to work.

This.

Diary #10

Lola. Age 13.

May 26, 1995

Dear Book,

Yesterday was one of the weirdest days. First Name Redacted and I started going out. And then during gym there was an earthquake. I really wasn't that scared though. Then I got my period. Anyway, I love Name Redacted. I will never dump him.

Lola


Yikes, this entry is filled to the brim with serious business. I got my first boyfriend, experienced an earthquake, and joined womankind. All in one day, apparently, as I do not fuck around. Also, way to say "never." In a few journal entries, I break up with poor Name Redacted for a drummer in the school band.

“What is feminism? Simply the belief that women should be as free as men, however nuts, dim, deluded, badly dressed, fat, receding, lazy and smug they might be. Are you a feminist? Hahaha. Of course you are.”
― Caitlin Moran, How to Be a Woman

Na na na na na ley ley

Nelly Furtado - Parking lot

It reminds me too much of m.i.a., even the video evokes 'Bad Girls.' I don't get it, Nelly. But it is catchy as all heck. I cannot stop singing the Na na na part.



Do you remember "Say it Right?" I want that again, Nelly! Go back to Timbaland.

turn up the radio

To be short

I am 5 feet and 4 inches tall.

If I was taller, I'd know the secrets of cupboards.

Top shelves harbor teabags and smuggle sacks of flour

across legions of short tenants.

Tall women can rest upright on the subway.

Ceilings don't have fingerprints, only headprints.

If you dusted the F train for evidence

you'd find latent regret amongst thumbs and pinkys.

We shuffle and rearrange and stack and sort ourselves

until our limbs stand quietly, and our eyes blankly retract.

I stare at my shoes and will my phone to buzz at 14^th street.

Maybe you missed me while I was underground

Oh hey

I'm 30 years old now.

what am I doing?

- sitting in cobble hill park for hours that feel like seconds
- marvin gaye listening and oatmeal raisin cookie baking
- questioning notions of authenticity
- mcclure's pickleback shots
- post 3am choose-your-own-adventures, williamsburg style
- regretting text messages (somewhat related to previous)
- infusing vodka with mangoes
- searching for new and exciting hobbies
- running 20 miles throughout brooklyn and manhattan. (longest distance to date)
- celebrating the last Sunday of my 20s
 - redefining feminism according to caitlin moran
- they've gone to plaid 
- already wishing the summer was longer

super duper love this track

phantogram - as far as i can see

diary #10

Age 13. Lola's first kiss.

June 2, 1995.

Name Redacted gave me a rose. He said he would. Then when we went to say bye we hugged and then kissed. It felt weird. He is sweet.

Wow. Could it have killed me to sound a little more jazzed about my first kiss? Maybe an exclamation point? Some ALL CAPS? Nope. Nothing. Just that it was weird. Poor Name Redacted. He purchased a rose and then kissed me. A rose. At age 13, that is as romantic as it gets.

Things I'd like to discuss further

Harem pants

Nas - I Am...

 

 Pending birthday existential crisis

The popularity of compost piles

Things and Stuff

- How did I just find out about this blog? It's phenomenal. Sad Stuff on the Street

- Caitlin Moran's How to be a Woman is an amazing read. I  don't agree with all of it, but I'm really glad this book exists.

- Just spent this past Sunday/Monday in Philly. Went here, which gets 80 thousand thumbs up. It's hard to argue with an unmarked bar in an alleyway that makes a killer Tom Collins.

- Getting much better at updating the other blog. Or, perhaps I'm just getting more neurotic.

- Friend recently banned the word "awesome" from my vocabulary. Dislike friend for doing this, but he's absolutely right. Goodbye awesome.

- Brooklyn = happy

Epiphanies caused by running

Marathon training kicks into high gear in this month. Ran 18 miles yesterday.* It was more challenging mentally than physically. Based on yesterday's effort, I should be able to finish the marathon in less than 5 hours without dying.**

As a pathological overthinker***, running is the perfect time for me to obsess about things. It is my catharsis. Halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge I had such an epiphany about my life that I literally said out loud "That is totally fucked up."**** My apologies to the gaggle of tourists I startled with my outburst, but I'm sure they're over it.

Anyway, I have a lot of running epiphanies.***** I imagine this is related to why I suck at yoga, because I am 100% incapable of clearing my mind. I need monotonous, grueling, demon-exercising activity.****** Moral of the story? Point of this entry? I'm glad I quit smoking to start running again. 

*The route: Prospect Park, Flatbush, Fort Greene Park, Flushing Ave, Williamsburg Bridge, East River Bikeway, Brooklyn Bridge, Bergen, Flatbush again and finished at almost exactly at home.

**Let's hope.

***This is an understatement.

****So fucked up that I can't even get into it. But I know exactly what I have to do to fix it. 

*****Not all of them valuable, useful or insightful. 

****** Don't we all?

Walkmans and mixtapes

Recently resurrected my walkman, and it's fantastic. Currently listening to my favorite mix tape of all time. (Someone made it for my older brother in 1997 and I commandeered it back then. Never gave it back.) Track list below. This mixtape changed my life. I strongly urge you to listen to Inner City Blues on repeat.

Side A:
Joy Division - Warsaw
The Smiths - What difference does it make
The Pixies - Gouge Away
Beastie Boys - Flute loop
Joy Division - She's lost control
Stone Roses - Begging you
Marvin Gaye - Inner City Blues
Velvet Underground - I can't stand it
R.E.M. - King of Comedy
The Smiths - Handsome Devil
Joy Division - Ice Age
Joy Division - The Sound of Music

Side B:
The Smiths - Sweet and tender hooligan
Joy Division - Digital
Joy Division - Transmission
New Order - Blue Monday
Velvet Underground - Heroin
R.E.M. - Wicked Game
The Replacements - Alex Chilton
Joy Division - The Eternal
Joy Division - Decades