Julene's journals

You know, when I first met you I have to say I was hesitant because of your $175 price tag. But after I strode out of the dressing room with my ass lookin' so fat you could see it from the front, I was in love. I swore of all others but you, J-brand. My sole pair of jeans, you were tight in all the right places and more than long enough to rock a small cuff when those punk rock high school memories became so strong.

So can you please tell me what the fuck happened last night J-brand? Why one moment you were a cohesive dark piece of jean material sent from heaven to make me look extra-super-good and the next THE ENTIRET CROTCH SEAM RIPPED APART!?!? I'm not sure what I did to offend you but it was very embarrassing, your seamline split from next to the zipper that went down almost until my knee.

How could you do this to me? I mean, I always went that extra mile to hang you up to dry instead of casually throwing you in the dryer and mistakenly shrinking you like I have with so many other pairs of jeans that have come into my life. I did not launder you too frequently, and had a really nice bottle of Febreeze I would spray you down with prior to going out with friends so as not to offend their delicate senses of smell--I mean, I really did do everything I possibly could for you!

And how do you thank me? By slowly being worn out from my gentle brand of love? NAY! By abandoning me in my hour of need! (1AM or so, to be exact.)


:'( I thought we were at least frenz, J-brand. Now I know differently.

---

Seriously that's my ONLY pair of jeans. Think American Rag would replace them if I went in with my receipt? I've only had them for like... three months. I DON'T WANT TO SPEND $175 ON FUCKING PANTS AGAIN SO SOON!

i am trying to send people things and as i'm nearing the last few letters my postage machine informs me "LO". wtf does that even mean, it's a postage machine? oh yes, wait... a nearly dead 9V battery. of course, nobody keeps a 9V battery sitting around their office. at least, i don't.

lesson learned on not stocking up on seldom-used battery sizes, eh?

i remember when half the hand-me-down toys i owned functioned on 9V batteries. like my shitty alarm clock's backup power system in case the power went out or my neighbor's older sister's teddy ruxpin.



that thing was amazing, albeit a bit lazy eyed. i think that's what happens when you dig toys out of someone else's garbage can as a kid. that girl's trash was definitely my treasure, it's too bad she never threw out any of these gems:













julene, why are you reflecting on 80's toys that half of us don't know the names of because we are from different generations? i'm reminiscing on that time in my life. i'm remembering what it was like to not hate my dad or spend hours on the phone listening to my mother crying. my brother hasn't answered my calls or texts in a week which has me worried with him going up to canada so soon in the future. i'm trying to figure out how to budget in the money i have to send him  for him to eat while he's up there since so much inane & stupid bullshit is going on around him right now.

i hate feeling manipulated by people who are supposed to love me. i hate reading emails written just to upset me when i know that i am in the best place right now i could possibly be. i wouldn't say i ever get "homesick" per se, because i don't find denver to be the kind of place i ever thought felt like home to me--right now i'm glad i have no desire to move back. i'm looking ahead, focusing on the future, and pushing myself away from as many negative influences as i can from a point in time where i wasn't confident to just cut them all out.

it's kinda rough for a tuesday.

i have a bunch of really cool photos from adventures i've been forcing myself to go on... but i cannot post them for fear of unveiling an extra-rad thing that i am keeping very hush hush. so you have to wait for a mega-epic post of photos involving me acting like a retard/overjoyed youthful individual.

here, look at my cat instead. otep is probably cuter than i am when she makes this face:




did i mention i had a shoot day a few weeks back? i think you guys (and girls) are going to have perma-boners when you see this stuff. i think it's some of my best shit yet--i'm starting to think i may have mentally grown into myself. i wear shoes with lift out in public on ocassion, i am not afraid of being noticeably taller than my friends or meeting boys that may offset the amount of attention people have given me based on my height.

right, so... back to the battle between good (me) and evil (the postage machine). hope you folks are doing "swell". (i should bring that word back. i am white and it's funny.)

i'm not feeling well--there's a lot going on that i am just an observer of but i don't like any of it. dehydrated and exhausted from numerous hours on the phone which keeps randomly losing reception regardless of my location.

i want to take three big steps back but doing so means disconnecting myself from people i really and truly need to be keeping tabs on.

when all else fails, keep your friends up all night on the phone because you can't sleep. at least i'm not suffering from some weird sad non-eating thing... god this bag of ruffles is delicious.

there are days where my heart is warmed by nice things all the girls here do--one of them (who wishes to remain anonymous) donated a set to us. just because she knows we aren't in the best place right now with a zillion monies to spend, but she wanted to stay on top of being an active model here.

<3 lady you know who you are, and we really appreciate it. <3



i think i pulled the group of muscles under my right shoulder blade this weekend--now my right shoulder is sitting higher than the left. it was worth it for the results i got but i feel weird walking around holding my right arm like a chicken wing.

netflix was feeling cruel yesterday and sent me "the notebook". being that summer romance is gay and stupid and fucked up i decided to embrace a movie where someone else actually gets to fall in love... by fucking bawling through the entire thing. not like a scene or two, like the whole fucking thing starting about 15 minutes in.  it's weird, there's a few movies that do that to me every time. i could be in an awesome mood or a sad mood and i will still have puffy eyeballs by the time it's over. "thirteen" does it to me too.

right now i am listening to tori amos sing about how much she hates mondays (you aren't the only one sister) and chugging coffee. and smashing the ants that got in through the window. >.<

In case you guys missed it, Jenna & I sometimes have really funny AIM conversations. Hopefully this one is as entertaining to you as it is to me.

xo

---

Julene: i can't tell if he's hot or awkward
Julene: or boff
Jenna: i cant tell
Jenna: he definitely looks 17 and likes edge
Julene: >.<
Julene: EXACTLY
Julene: dude, my MO = babyface sxe boys
Julene: DUH
Jenna: i know wtf julene. youre a perv
Jenna: WHERES CHRIS HANSEN
Julene: i'm like a serial killer
Jenna: i know
Jenna: CHRIS HANSEN I NEED YOU
Julene: who?
Julene: who is christ hansen?
Julene: chris, even.
Jenna: TO CATCH A PREDATOR
Julene: kajshfkjlaghdkhdrg
Julene: i hate you.
Julene: look dude i just bring the wine coolers over for their moms okay?
Julene: besides they're all EDGE4LYFE and do not want my wine coolers
Julene: and/or whiskey
Julene: and/or marijuana
Jenna: whatever youd put GHB in their lemonade
Julene: rolyphenol, but close.
Jenna: pervsss
Julene: GHB is so... 1990's raver scene
Jenna: lol you are like a mass serial killer
Jenna: like your type is baby face edge virgins
Julene: but i don't kill anyone!
Jenna: youre going to be on a law and order svu
Julene: and you know what will happen when that episode airs?
Julene: you will record it and show it to me for when i get out of jail
Jenna: if you get out of jail
Jenna: what would your serial killer name be
Jenna: like
Jenna: edge rapist
Julene: that's lame
Julene: v-card slayer
Jenna: AHAH
Jenna: xxx v-card slayer xxx
Julene: v-card slasher
Julene: get those x's away from my serial killer name!
Julene: i am so not edge, obv.
Jenna: XXX
Jenna: XXXXX
Julene: that's how i end up with stories about blowing people twice
Julene: by not being edge
Jenna: HAHAHAH twice
Julene: although to be fair i'm sure i would still do those types of things if i didn't drink
Jenna: i am tempted if i can convince boy i like to come with me saturday to the bar mitzvah party i  will blow him somewhere inappropriate near my family just to be rebellious.
Julene: you hate giving blowjobs
Julene: quit faking

all crack jokes about anal sex, and plan ways to get shows like "cheaters" really high ratings.



i hate denver, but i really love these two. <3

things i remember from last night completely out of order:

- putting a cigarette out in the palm of my hand
- spitting in some girl's hair
- ... and then on a bunch of other chicks' handbags
- having some chick tell me i had camel toe. my ladylike response? "yeah well, sometimes my vagina just eats things:"
- giggle-snorting for like fifteen minutes on some warehouse floor
- getting hit in the head by a flying skateboard
- sending gnarly text messages hypothesizing about the functional purpose of emotions like love
- cracking my knuckles in some girl's face when she said i looked like a boy
- continually calling some girl "vienna s." because she looked like a little vienna sausage in the dress she somehow crammed herself into. i don't think she got the joke.
- bonding with my mother at 4am, wasted. well i was wasted, she was just half-asleep.
- having a very blatant discussion about anal sex with a very old friend
- playing "guess how big i've stretched my piercing!" with my friend shane
- only spending like $12 on booze. i think. actually i need to find my receipt.... (correction: $17 after tip)
- smoking a parliament. gross. :P


now i am hungover (possibly still drunk) and i can't remember the rest of my evening.

 i can't wait to get back to fucking LA--all those miles made the shitty stuff feel less personal.

Julene: [link to a particular thread involving nudes in our forums]
Julene: want!
Jenna: why do you like straight edge hardcore kids who all look like they live in the OC?
Julene: because i want to fuck the shit out of them
Jenna: i know but why?!?! its so weird. you have a scene kid fetish
Jenna: you're a scene kid fucker
Julene: NO!
Jenna: you should have worked at hot topic you would have been in heaven
Julene: ... we are not frenz right now
Julene: i just like dudes that look like i can break them, because then they work really hard to break me
Jenna: WE ARE BFFSZ.
Julene: LOOK I JUST WANT TO FUCK SXE DUDES ALL DAY
Julene: because when you say "sxe" it sounds like "sexy"
Jenna: LOL im telling you... just work at hot topic, they come in constantly
Julene: c'mon a tattooed hand wrapped around a penis is so fucking hot
Julene: but i hate when they have girl hair
Jenna: they're like HAI IM SXE AND I HATE THIS STORE. then they buy like 500 things.
Julene: they're always so skinny too. like, please let me play a tune on your ribcage while i ride your dick

[extended pause]

Julene: i am going to hell, aren't i?
Jenna: HAI WHERE R UR STRECH JEANZ.
Julene:  look it's not like straight edge boys ever actually hook up with me
Julene: it's the fact i drink whiskey
Julene: and wine
Julene: and smoke weed
Julene: and cigarettes when i feel like it

Jenna: this is my real boyfriend.
[insert photo of marilyn manson]
Jenna: his name is marilyn.
Julene: ...you are such a token goth.
Jenna: he snorts cocaine off my butthole and then when my butthole gets numb he puts his penis in it.

[another extended pause]

Julene: you are insane
Julene: goth dudes always look like they'd be bad lays. goth chicks are fucking insane in the sack.
Julene: my goth ex-gf was epic. the raver was even better. that's the one you look like. but she was certifiably nuts.
Jenna: oh mans ravers
Julene: dude, [name removed] was the best chick-lay i've ever had
Jenna: the goth chick or the raver?
Julene: the raver. too bad she fucked every male friend i had while we were dating.
Jenna: that's because shes crazy
Julene: i'm just glad all she gave me was candy bracelets instead of things that require acronyms, nahwattimean?



I can't tell what bothers me more out of lunchtime conversations like this: the fact that I am obsessed with edge dudes who apparently look like they live in OC (whatever that means), the fact that I was so crass, or the fact that I admitted to fucking a girl that wore candy bracelets. Or the fact that I sincerely think Jenna resembles her... with more black eyeshadow, pink hair instead of blue, and not from South America. Whatever. *shakes head*

I don't let my chin touch my chest in public. I work hard to push my shoulders back (tits out?) and keep a stiff upper lip. When I run at night I carry myself pretty well for a sweaty, panting tattooed girl that makes the locals stare from their patio steps. 3 miles in 40 minutes isn't too bad, though I still have to spend parts of it speed-walking instead of full out running. I just try not to let my heart rate drop. Charlie told me about sit-ups that are downright painful, so if they don't work she will feel my wrath. Or I'll pull her hair. Something.

I take back every bad thing I've ever said about Britney Spears, by the way. Her newest album is ideal for working out to, as much as I hate to admit it. I can't deal with listening to sappy R&B right now (you should only do that in the early stages of a new romance) so power-pop is it for a bit. And a lot of Dance Gavin Dance, but that's a different story.

My arm has healed marvelously. For an inconvenient, itchy, and somewhat funky-smelling as healing under saran wrap for 3 days may be... it fucking works. I only have one teensy scab near my armpit, which is usually not the case. Usually my whole arm is a crusty colored scab that grosses me out for at least a month after a tattoo appointment. I'm glad I get to skip on that from here on out.

Lately I've been struck by more tattoo ideas. That's my coping mechanism to keep me entertained with myself... getting tattooed. I have an idea to go over my kneecap, though locating someone that can tell me not only how it feels but how long they were limping for after is a bit hard. Looks like not many people feel like getting their kneecaps tattooed these days, what a pity. I still want to get the word "eugenics" on my throat/neck, however people have pointed out a few things to me:

1. it makes me sound like Hitler, or at least very racist (which isn't the case but I suppose it could appear that way)
2. it sounds like I'm doing it just to be offensive (which let's face it, I kindof am; the idea is still hilarious though.)
3. it makes me come off as some kind of elitist (which I am when it comes to who should be allowed to perpetuate their genetics as we close in on 7 billion people on the planet)
4. this is not a hideable tattoo, and I don't even have my hands done (...yet)

I think people take me too seriously. This always happens. I come up with a very vague idea that doesn't need to be dissected down to its most finite point... and people do that anyway. For those of you not familiar with the term (or at least interested in brushing up on it's definition) please see this wikipedia article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eugenics

The group I surveyed on this idea (all anonymous internet folks) responded with a resounding "that is fucking stupid... but you're so hot I almost forgive you." Does a pretty face mean a free pass on this issue? I'm not really sure, it's not like I'm looking to get this tattooed next week or something. I thought about putting it on my second knuckles as well, but I have a list about three pages long of ideas for those suckers. I like to sit on important ideas for looooong periods of time (usually,  unless it's something pointless like lips on my ass or a pirate logo on my upper back) before I get them done. Example: the Lenore tattoo was debated on for 6 years prior to my doing it. The pieces I have planned out for the fronts of both of my thighs have been under consideration for 3+ years.

I'm still trying to find an adventurous (read: possibly retarded) photographer willing to shoot me at a place off Sunset. It is not hidden from passer/drivers-by, and could result in both of us getting a ticket for my indecent exposure. My idea is really good, but finding people with skill willing to take risks in the legal/fine-receiving departments is proving more difficult then I initially thought. I'm going to start offering cake and mashed potatoes in an attempt to convince them that this is a really good idea. Any takers?

I am super-exhausted because I go out too much. I should probably chill the fuck out on that for a bit... but why would I want to when there's places to go and people to see? Do you think 300 situps will make me feel better? Tune in at my lunch break to find out...





P.S. I am a little late on this train, but I really want a polaroid camera. I have an idea for (yet another) creative project I will only remember to work on sometimes over the next year until it's completed. Then it will make me a bajillion dollars. No really, I'm serious.