by Megan Boyle
6:46PM: woke. made four small pieces of toast. toast was fucking good. sat at dining room table, between kitchen and mom on the couch. mom asked if i dreamed and i told her my dream. i was driving to D.C., to meet with a therapist in adam’s morgan, at her apartment. she asked if i wanted to have a sleepover and turned off the lights. i couldn’t sleep. there were sick dogs outside.
mom said something about how she thinks brody’s wife on ‘homeland’ is a terrorist. she used examples, one of which was that mandy patinkin’s wife is indian. i said ‘there aren’t indian terrorists.’ mom said ‘well, i know, i know, but remember he calls his wife ‘brown?’ i said ‘people just call…that’s normal.’ felt endearingly, half-seriously irritated at her, like ‘come on mom, you really thought people lived on the moon?’
mom said, about bread, ‘it’s not even the whole foods kind, it’s from wegmans!’ i said ‘i bet it actually has been the wegmans kind all along, they’re doing that on purpose. because look: look at the bags. the bags look so similar.’ she said ‘you! i’m gonna punch you in the face’ and walked over to me with the remaining baba ganoush dip and sort of…put the dip up to my face. it was funny.
8:09PM: sitting on balcony. the sun was setting when i came out here but it’s mostly down. considered making today ‘extremely short day,’ where i mostly sleep. i don’t feel like doing anything. just want to watch TV or read or passively absorb the internet.
8:14PM: dad came over. i’m still on the balcony. feel really good for some reason. like, ‘the first night of a calm vacation in a log cabin with someone i’ve been in a relationship with for three months, but we still lovingly debate over when it officially started.’ that feeling is influenced by how it smells like someone is lighting a fire, like, burning leaves or something. smells really good. traffic sounds and spring peepers, also. hm.
8:42PM: mom opened balcony door and said dinner (lemon chicken over pasta, with these sick as hell rolls called ‘popovers’) would be ready in ‘[blinks fingers on the palm of her hand] five minutes.’ feel happy right now. why do i feel so happy.
balcony door opened, mom asked if i wanted her to make a plate for me and bring it outside. i said ‘no, no, no thank you. i’ll get it.’ she said ‘it’s just the pasta, it’s taking a little while to not be al dente,’ pronouncing ‘al dente’ with a self-conscious italian accent. i said ‘that’s okay, i’ll just get it in a few minutes. thank you.’ she said ‘dad and me actually figured out he’s seen all the ‘homelands’ but two, to where we’re up to from last night. so, he’s only two behind.’ i said ‘oh good good.’ felt overwhelmed with ‘goodness to everything’ urge. i said ‘i would even like to watch the entire episode, from the beginning, from last night. that we fell asleep during.’ she said ‘oh good, me too, me too.’
8:53PM: ate 1mg xanax to maximize taste for impending chicken dinner. hrrrrlllll yarrrrllll. (‘hrrll yarll’ is what you say when your teeth are too clenched and excited for ‘hell yeah’). on a maybe related note, i’ve lost 10lbs since beginning of march.
11:30PM: answered backlog of ask.fm questions. dad is bringing home ice cream. going to watch the shit out of some ‘homeland’ with parents. partying hard tonight, need to stay hydrated. might eat another xanax to make the ice cream party harder on my tongue. fucking…fuck ass…live from new york it’s saturday night!!!!
11:34PM: repeated ‘I WANTED THE PINT ALL TO MYSELF BUT YOU CAN HAVE A SCOOP BUT TAKE A SMALL ONE’ to parents…a lot…goddamnit…have church hymn stuck in my head that goes ‘glory to god on the highest / and peace, to his people on earth.’
APRIL 14, 2013
2:10AM: ate 1mg xanax, brushed teeth, washed face, peed.
4AM: woke. ate 1mg xanax, wafer-like cookie thing.
12:40PM: woke.
12:41–[unknown time]PM: answered questions on ask.fm. some idiot thinks i’m liveblogging to be ironic. i don’t care about being nice or detached or whatever anymore if i think someone is saying something truly idiotic, thinking they know what i’m doing more than i know. i wish bad things upon this person, even if it’s someone i like. i wish for this person to burn.
[unknown]PM: woke and read nice/funny emails from tao.
7:22PM: going to dad’s to give alvie his continuous water flow device and feed cats. then back to here. jesus. tomorrow will be ‘get stuff done again’ day. want to forget today.
7:43pm: Listening to smashing pumpkins. Ate 1mg Xanax. On the way to do kitty business at dad’s. I only have ‘mayonnaise’ and ‘1979’ on iPhone. Responded to nice things moon temple + others were saying on Facebook re my liveblog, felt warm.
8:14pm: bought monster ‘absolute zero’ energy drink, pack of american spirit menthol lights, gas from gas station. Unknown number texted to see if I’d still do the shower noise. Responding ‘yes will do it to the best of my memory then hang up.’
8:19pm: the person called. I made the noise and hung up. They texted ‘thx that was great,’ I texted ‘;) thanks I’m grinning’
8:46pm: set up continuous water flow device. Made/drank cucumber lettuce juice. Dreading carraba’s take-out. I want to be healthy for the rest of the day. This could be ‘transitional day into being healthy.’
9:23PM: arrived home. ate 1mg xanax. eating unhealthy things today as motivation for being healthy tomorrow. ‘one last hurrah, one bleak goodbye to unhealthy eating, the green juice you had was your ‘[healthy dinner they give to people pardoned from death row, maybe]’
9:51PM: looking at a spread of fiendish delights i will be eating, arranged on dinner tray. fiendish italian chain restaurant to-go carby shitfuck nummmynum xanax benefits shithead delights. we’re watching ‘les miserables’ instead of ‘homeland.’ fiendish fiendy fiendish…should i eat another xanax…might eat another one…shit…going ‘all in,’ going all in, alert: i am going ‘all in’ eating third 1mg xanax of the evening, basking in the delights, treating myself to a star spangled shitfest.
9:52–11:59PM: ate less than i thought i would’ve. fell asleep during ‘les miserables,’ i think.
12:00–2[something]AM: slept at the end of the bed, parents put on ‘homeland.’ think i was administering xanax to myself…during waking parts…during this time…i think. have very little memory of how i ended up in my bed.
6:41AM: woke and ate 1mg xanax, ate some kind of wafer cookie, went to sleep.
11:30AM: woke and ate 1mg xanax, ate some kind of wafer cookie, went to sleep.
2:26PM: woke and parents were getting ready to leave for things. feel confused and far away from the obligations that seemed important for me to complete. i think mailing packages was one of those obligations. might take a vyvanse from tao and just…beast that out…want to be healthy today, also. colin also asked me to scan and sign ‘house rules’ for him. i feel like a xanax zombie on my third cup of coffee and it’s just making me want to sleep more.
PLAN: shower/‘dress for the occasion,’ eat vyvanse on the drive to whole foods, get materials for ‘least you can do’ smoothie, packages.
every time i see ‘PLAN’ or something in here it seems so futile. like, my unfinished plans from earlier, how it all keeps being a very similar ‘plan’…when is this shit going to end…
i do tend to get more things done when i dress for the occasion. ODDLY.
pictured myself sitting at a table on ‘the lido deck’ of a cruise ship, a fat woman in a hat approaching me, saying ‘ODDLY! the LIDO deck of ALL PLACES! i see you’ve DRESSED FOR THE OCCASION! ho ho ho!’
3:47PM: listened to a song i like by the ohioans. sounds like it’d be on the ‘clueless’ soundtrack, or like, playing in the background of an aerial shot of a high school that follows the main character into the school and you see how all the people in the hall react to the main character and the credits are playing.
i’m still sitting on my bed, drinking third or fourth cup of coffee. feeling less groggy. going to start stop being a shithead.
4:42PM: experiencing memory loss re ‘things
i’m preparing to do,’ via xanax. extreme amounts of xanax the last two days, i think. unsure if i typed the total amount i ate (unsure of total amount).
THINGS I THOUGHT IN THE SHOWER:
• ‘congo.’ tim curry was the main actor in ‘congo.’ was it their plan to make him a hot sexy superstar? brandon scott gorrell said something about ‘congo’ and it was funny, i can’t remember. tim curry was in ‘home alone 2’ and ‘rocky horror.’ he is gay.
• shave all the pubes. what good did pubes ever do you. they’re just there, pubey. maybe shave for sex, you feel more sensation without pubes, plus someone…why do men have such strong opinions about pubes? men are stupid. shave pubes to ‘dress for the occasion.’ today’s occasion: the things you’ll do today. oh, the places you’ll go. pubeless.
• walter mackey steak bites
• you are supposed to mail things but the post office will be closed again you dipshit. you dipshit. oh well, just actually like, just do them now.
• do i feel vyvannse? seems like…no…0.025% vyvanse effects. eat a little more adderall after the shower? but why, what are you even supposed to be doing?
4:49PM: found the underpants i was wearing moments before a penis entered my vagina for the first time, february 29, 2004.
4:51PM: i want to walk around a mall on a lot of drugs and document everything i see, like. hm. just be on a lot of molly, at a mall. this might be a shitty idea. shit. i want to do something like the ‘PRESS KIT’ movie tao and i made in taiwan. ‘made in taiwan:’ a phrase i have seen on many objects since childhood.
5:00PM: assembling packages. might…fucking. goddamn my stupid life. someone surprise me already.
5:17PM: ate 20mg adderall, 60mg vyvanse. starting to feel big time. making packages like a….frrrrrujjsjdkjksdfjkfdhdsf…macmedics employee called to inform me there is $800+ damage from my ‘800lbs gorilla-like’ drunken machinery dismantling event of the century. he is nice. at the end i said ‘what’s your name again?’ he said ‘brendan.’
8:09PM: beasted out book packages and answered emails. going to brooklyn wednesday, april 17, for interview with alt citizen magazine.
11:59PM: finished three packages. addressed envelopes. wrote ‘behind the scenes’ commentary in books. doing a good job on the drawings, i think. got carried away looking through old family photos to include with books.
APRIL 15, 2013
12:00–1:43AM: mostly looked at old photos. emailed matthew donahoo a photo collage involving my mom, me, and difficulties with a horse. i like vyvanse better than adderall. forgot about liveblog/internet. enjoying assembling packages. wish these weren’t my last books to mail because i like annotating/personalizing them. feel like an idiot for not doing it sooner, sorry to all who haven’t received their copies yet.
2:21AM: i don’t know how it got to be so late. troubling loss of time today. i don’t remember showering or before showering. seems like i lost a day, or more maybe. xanax. bad news.
8:23AM: mom stood in my room’s doorway and said ‘you’re still up?’ and i said ‘i’m still up.’ she said ‘do you want coffee?’ i said i did. this is a first, i think. i don’t know why i said ‘yes’ because i wanted to be neurotic and say ‘no thank you, i’ll get it when i’m ready.’ i don’t even really want coffee right now, though.
8:27AM: now i have coffee.
1:26PM: mom left, said she’ll be back around 4. have been wanting to avoid typing in this. have reached level of ‘talking to myself/listening to my thoughts’ where it seems impossible to surprise/amuse myself.
need a swat team…
‘opposite of self-help’ swat team…
just want…i don’t know…
should i get chic-fil-a…
i’m goddamned shivering a-goddamned-gain when am i going to sleep i’m supposed to be in new york tomorrow at 11AM.
4:29pm: bank teller’s name was donata. ‘Crying of lot 49’ style name, like ‘de nada’ and ‘donate.’ Asked her to look up my savings account number. She said ‘did you used to live in Philadelphia?’ I said ‘yup, yup Philadelphia, fifteen-oh-four north fourth street, that’s me. I might be Margaret, or Megan, I’m not sure what I said.’ she typed things for a while. she said ‘did those hurt’ about my tattoos. I said ‘you know? Only when they were getting done.’ she said ‘hurts just looking at ’em.’ Put arms behind me and said ‘I’ll hide I’ll hide,’ so she wouldn’t have to look. Man with white ponytail and woman approached and donata said ‘can I help you?’ ponytail man said ‘I need to see the manager. The manager of the bank.’ donata continued typing my savings account thing and said ‘one moment just a sec.’ ponytail man’s woman said ‘we have a problem for the manager.’
4:41pm: professional-looking woman being helped by post office person was saying ‘how do I know someone’s not going to read my mail? That’s my whole point in doing this, otherwise I’d save myself the trip’ and looked back to everyone in line for sympathy, it seemed. People were paying attention to other things.
4:46pm: mailed everything media mail. Post office lady said ‘you need to re-sign that card, I can’t see a signature’ and handed me a red sharpie. She looked back and forth between my name on my license and my card a few times but didn’t say anything about one of the names being ‘Margaret.’
4:55pm: turned key in ignition and tied hair in ponytail. Neck tension built or released. Felt good.
**IF ANYONE IN A 50 MILE RADIUS OF BALTIMORE IS READING THIS: I AM INTERESTED IN BEING PET, LIKE HOW YOU WOULD PET [ANIMAL OF YOUR CHOICE], FOR AS LONG AS YOU FEEL LIKE IT. NOT A SEXUAL THING, STRICTLY SPECIES ON SPECIES RUBBING, WEARING CLOTHES. OFFER LONG-STANDING BUT TONIGHT WOULD BE ESPECIALLY NICE.
5:01pm: I’m going out on a limb to say this. ‘A limb.’ Haha. Going out on all my limbs and my torso and head to say this, this thing I thought in line at the post office: I have reached a point of no return of sorts. I can’t imagine functioning the way I used to before I was so involved in the internet. I don’t know how much good any of this is actually doing me. Some interesting things have happened to me and I’ve met interesting people but I feel like in order for me to live a life where I’m mostly happy I should not continue to do this, like, write the liveblog but also probably not write or show anyone. I also can’t imagine not doing either of these things. I feel like I’m in some kind of hellish limbo area where no alternative seems easier to commit to, to cause long-term satisfaction. It doesn’t work for me to go this long without experiencing some kind of meaningful interaction. It feels good to know people read this but I miss the thing of seeing a face and feeling the face see me or whatever. Also I don’t know…who I could ever potentially have a relationship with…seems like I’ve…there is a limit I’ve reached that other people could exceed but I feel unable to, if that makes sense. Not just about relationships, about all of this.
People throw around ‘I don’t know what to do, what do I want from life’ but I really don’t know…like has anyone who has said that felt these things I’m talking about? Don’t most people at least have, like, an idea of what they could contribute to the world? Aren’t most people, like, considering a few internships, if not day jobs? Night jobs? Any jobs? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?
6:10pm: in parking lot outside FedEx. Too bright. Re-read email I sent Tao in February then re-read his reply from earlier today. Picked at shoulder then pulled back sleeve to see if there was anything to watch pop out of me. Popped small blackhead I thought ‘my savior’ about. Disappointing results. Thing I was not going to include: dark red car with license plate that said ‘CLOSURE’ passed on a speed bump to my left. Universe fake as hell man. This has gotta be some kinda Ashton Kutcher prank. Blew bloody nose scab thing into hand but nothing else came out so I got a napkin and tried harder. Success. Checked other shoulder for things to pick at, no results. Wonder of I’ll ever be nostalgic for now. Seems like all times are preferable to now but I doubt I’ll think that tomorrow about now. I’ll be like ‘ah, the park
ing lot, the bloody booger: how young I was.’
7:02pm: someone asked four ask.fm questions in a row with answers I don’t automatically know/sense. Interested in who this person is…they can lead me to an ‘elsewhere’ lol…picturing them as Tom cruise in ‘lord of the rings’ (know he wasn’t in that, am just picturing a shrunken mischievous tom cruise in hobbit clothes who is also a ‘mysterious old sage.’)
Saw email from Austin about spacedads reading and panicked a little. Completely forgot I agreed to do this. People will be watching my head talk ‘live’ soon. Mom will be at apartment, I don’t want her to hear.
I SOLVED IT I WILL JUST GO TO DAD’S AND BE ALONE GREAT I CAN FEED AND PET CATS ALSO
Jesus in-person interview photo shoot thing is tomorrow morning in Brooklyn I haven’t been considering this sitting in FedEx parking lot looking at phone not sleeping shoooooit sheeters shiddly poo come on auto-correct let me curse the way I want to, with peepee head misspellings
7:20PM: responded to austin’s email. said ‘mom there’s too many things and no sleep i did it again and noooooo’ or something while bending over to hug mom on couch. she asked about what was going on and said ‘i bet you’ll feel better after a shower.’ i said ‘oh no, am i…sorry,’ re how i smell, and she said ‘no, no no no, i didn’t smell anything’ (aware of probably smelling like cigarettes, but it hasn’t been long enough since the last time i showered for ‘worse smells’). i said ‘i mean no, it’s fine, i know it’ll feel better, thank you.’ she said ‘i really didn’t smell anything bad on you.’ checked skin in mirror. not as clear as i thought. i repeat: skin IS NOT as clear as i thought. had unconsciously picked at my chin in the car, i think. this feels like a musical comedy. musical comedy of fiendish errors full of sound and fury and in the end signifying nothing.
7:56pm: on the way out the door I said ‘I’ll be back later tonight. Then new York tomorrow.’ mom said ‘oh be careful up there. You know, the Boston marathon.’ I said ‘maybe they just bombed because they wanted them to run faster,’ laughing. Mom laughed and said ‘no no no! It was when they were already at the finish line!’ I put an orange in my bag and said ‘well I’ll be sure to use all the back roads on my way up, as usual.’ mom laughed and said ‘yes yes.’ I said ‘’ey! I’m walkin’ here’ like Dustin Hoffman in midnight cowboy. Mom laughed really hard, surprising me. I remembered the walking/marathon connection and laughed. Mom said ‘this is terrible, think of all those children without parents!’ I said ‘and how lucky those parents must be.’ mom said “surround you with a bubble of light,’ she doesn’t mean it, I swear!’ I said ‘it knows I don’t mean it.’ mom said ‘I know they know you don’t mean it.’ I was at the bottom of the stairs and said goodbye and locked the door. Before school my mom would say ‘surround you with a bubble of light, keep you safe from harm’ and wave her hand around me in a circle. The ‘it’ and the ‘they’ we were referencing is/are the universe, or god.
