Sunday, October 14, 2007

sirens, houses, music, envy, ballet, bloody murder

Can you tell the difference between a desperate SIREN and just a siren?

i feel like when a ambulance streaks past me i can tell if it is a critical situation...
the sound is the same but theres a different feeling to it.
i hate it when i hear a siren begin... silence silence... waaaiiillliinnnggg!!!!
natalie portman said on inside that actors studio that she hated the sound of european sirens because she asociated them with the holocost.

the HOUSE we think that we are buying is near the hospital so i will be getting used to all that.
the house we think that we are buying has a big nose.
do you ever look at a car or a house and see it as a face?
the windows or headlights are the eyes and the door or the garden or the front steps or the front bumper is the expression?
i dont know if you do that but i do.
and the house that we think we might be buying has a big nose and a rather american expression.
but when we buy it we will take down the flag.
and plant some out of control weepy climbing vines...
and let the grass die a bit so that it doesnt look so hautily (Sp?) insultingly green.

we fell asleep at jakes house. he and ari were playing the cello and the guitar... or the bass... like i said i was falling alseep.
jakes house is huge.
and no one was there but us.
lots of us.
falling asleep or talking or teasing nicky....
or playing instruments to the room at large.
i dont think there is any kind of a moment that i like better then that kind of a moment. (minus the teasing nicky, of course :) )

i wish i could play an instrument.
but i hate playing them.
i like listening.

people only ever wish for things like- to be able to play.
ive never heard someone who didnt apreciate music say- i wish i could listen to MUSIC.
i suppose if they didnt like it they had no way to know that it is somthing to apreciate... your own ability to apreciate...

i went back to sophia's house and dreamnt about dancing BALLET. (in the phantom of the opera...)
ballet is another thing i wish i could do... and dont apreciate my own apreciation for.

i rinced red hair dye out my hair.
i had had my eyes squeezed tight for thier presurvation for about two minutes. and when i opened them my vision was blurry and surreal.

and i apreciated the cinematic symbolism of the thick red/brown syrupy paste that was sliding over my shoulders and staining the white tiles where it pooled around my feet.

i guess it wasnt so much symbolic...
i dont plan on dying or BLEEDING in excess any time soon.

so maybe symbolism is the wrong literary device.

but, Sophia, the year we have been having?

should i ever make a movie about this year- the opening credits will fade in and out over a scene of a girl rincing red dye out of her hair and close on it spiraling down the drain.