fuck dat shit

so today I decided I was going to hey mister a pack of cigarettes, bad idea from the start.

this middle aged guy was kinda lurkin around and he looked a little rough so I figured I'd ask him. He says no.

And not only does he say no but he looks kind of bothered. So I'm a little upset now because I have no cigarettes and some random man gave me a bad look, so I pick up my book (Animal Farm) and start reading a little.

He comes back, the man, and squats so that he's my height (I'm sitting on a bench) and tells me that cigarettes killed his father... And that his father chain smoked and made him and his brothers & sisters eat tobacco so that they'd never smoke... And that I better not start, because cigarettes are more addictive than heroin.

I was too dumbstruck to blow up at him. I wanted to tell him: FUCK YOU. Don't you EVER compare those two drugs, ever. And furthermore-- I'm still offended that, because I'm a white girl dressed nicely (I'm classy today), that I want to start smoking & don't already. I had my first cigarette when I was eight years old, and I started again because I don't like who I am and I don't necessarily care if I get lung cancer--- Seriously, I don't need anymore reason to, so they say, "hate the person I've become".

And honestly, it's none of his fucking business a simple "no" would've been enough. Making me feel like I was the one who killed his father over the actual chain smoking was completely unnecessary & made me retreat to the bathroom of starbucks and cry for two hours.

thanks a lot.

Los Angeles (West Hollywood)

Again, sorry I haven't updated this everyday an whatnots. . . We're staying at the Hyatt Century Plaza, it's in Beverly Hills (4/5 star hotel, whaaat), but it's pretty close to West Hollywood. You can google map it if you want.

I'm really in love with Los Angeles. . . But, just to make things clear, it's not like we're only spending time in Beverly Hills & West Hollywood, we drive around a whole bunch to visit different places. There are some pretty grimy parts of L.A. as expected, but it's still pretty comforting. The weather is always perfect (because it's california, obviously) but if you think about it--- in Mass. we spend all summer hoping to get some of those "perfect days" and we get a few weeks of them. But in Los Angeles, everyday is perfect weather. Why would anyone want to live in M.A. over L.A.? I just don't get it. . . The people are great, too, as I mentioned in talking about San Diego, (okay, so the people in Beverly Hills suck, but once you leave there the people are generaly very laid back).

I still have not found anyone my age, so. . . I haven't had a cigarette since I bummed one at Lego Land (lololol) and even then I only had enough time to smoke half of it. . . I'm also really upset that I can't go to any headshops. I was really looking forward to it, because marijuana is a big part of my life, (keep in mind that I'm not a stoner because, stoners let marijuana define them, where in my case I let marijuana be just part of what defines me as a person) but it's not like I can just be like "OH HEY MOM I'M GOING TO GO LOOK IN THAT HEADSHOP OVER THERE, CAN YOU HOLD MY BAG?" . . . No. And, to add to that, I have no clue about the carding situation, I hate getting carded because it's obvious that I'm lying when I say "sorry, I left my license at home. . ." But I'm still a'hopin.

-Alanna

San Diego (photos)

So, my favourite part of California, are the overpasses, the highways (semi-depicted in the third photo, obviously). Here is why I love the overpasses: the palm trees are super funny, and I don't really like palm trees to be honest but I love the ones with the beard-things hanging off. The ones with the beards often hang and then vines start to grow in their beards, and all of this becomes so excessive that they hunch over a bit and fall on the different highway ledges. This creates these, sort of-- stringy fingers that dangle from the overpasses, and then, with sunlight pouring through them (at around noon, because that's when the sun shines most) it's just so beautiful you question if you're eyes are lying or you've finally snapped into schizophrenia.

The second photo is a better view of hotel room we stayed at in San Diego. It was quite nice, I especially loved that house keeping left cigarette ash on the deck and the kids (the staff often brought their little kids, who would flail around the hallways spouting Spanish this way & that) would make paper airplanes-- planes that were just big enough for their hands so, that means: little, little, planes (I could put one in my fist and it would only bit slightly crumpled).

The first photo is just Ryan at Lego Land with Joan in the background (lawlz).

San Diego

Sorry this took so long to update, I've been busy. We stayed at a weird hotel in Boston for a night, then woke up at like 6 A.M. to make our flight. The plane ride was okay (5.5 hours, nonstop, Boston to San Diego). I didn't watch any T.V. or movies in the plane, I finished reading We instead and I must say- it's probably one of the best books I've ever read. Confession: I snorted adderall in the plane bathroom. We also went to a steak restaurant in boston and they had very good steak along with a giant light up cactus. I blew chunks in the bathroom after eating. I told everyone I could make it a year, that throwing up really wasn't that important in my life (and I like to think it isn't) but I guess I was wrong. . . Because the last time I threw up was in November (or sometime in the late fall).

Ohh, and how I'd love to attach all the pictures I took today & yesterday but I can't because the USB reader-thing is broken. Also- today we went to Lego Land and I'm very sun burned (mmstinging). I got hit on by one of the people working there, because I took a picture of the lego corn (yes, there was lego corn) and he was like "OHH are you taking a picture of my corn?" and I just laughed, but then he actually tried to make conversation so I just walked away. . .

It's been hard the past couple of days, as much as I disapprove of complaining I've become the most whiny bitch on the face of the planet. Just because I've had cravings and my period and dealing with my family 24/7 doesn't help. This would be perfect if my family wasn't here (family vacation is an oxymoron).

But I believe and think that the Virgin Mary loves Los Angeles and the surrounding area/southern CA because it just. . . I don't know, it just feels right. The people here are nice, example: I asked this guy for a cigarette and he says "SURE!" and smiles and asks if I need a light too. That doesn't happen on the east coast, it just doesn't. The weather is beautiful, and the ocean is always within walking distance.

And one last thing before I watch a movie with Ryan-- Under the Bridge: I used to love that song in 8th grade, and everyone still loves it but I don't like it anymore unless I get urges for dope/I'm coming down because that's what the song's about. . . That's what it was written for, if you haven't done heroin why would you listen to a song about it? It's like making a person who's perfectly content with their life read The Bell Jar, does that make sense? I just like Under the Bridge because it's so perfect, it's exactly how one feels, or, how I feel at least. . . On the plane I broke down the song line for line and analyzed it like it was a poem and, I guess that's a bit excessive/stupid but, I just makes sense. . . I like things that make sense.

If you're reading this I probably miss you,

-Alanna

p.s. sorry for the shitty webcam photo, I'll put up another one with a better everything (we have a supafly view of the ocean & some of the skyline since we're on the 8th floor)

Departin'

I'll be leaving for Los Angeles on Sunday. Lookin' forward to actually having time to read&write. But also seeing the beach, seeing Daphne, being somewhere other than the 413.

(this has been stuck in my head all day, some folky shit)

souls like the wings , spreading out away from bad memories
make us capable of taking off and landing, alive with understanding
let me go, let me go,
let me go, let me go...