Julene's journals

farhaad & i saw last night at kitchen 24?




fuck yeah son!

insomnia has kicked in full strength--i know i need to sleep sooner or later but i can't quit tapping away. when inspiration strikes i will run myself ragged to capture every last bit of it on paper. the more i write the more i wonder if this time i'll accept the book deal, if these new projects can hold a candle to the one that gained the attention of the publisher when the unsolicited manuscript landed on his desk last time. there's just as much of myself pouring out this time; more stories i try my hardest not to share but they haunt me when i'm in the dark at night.

i hate being in the dark. nothing scares me as much as how quickly i lose my hold on reality once the lights go out and i'm left alone with nothing but memories and thought patterns i still have a hard time explaining to even the closest of friends.

but this time i can't throw in the towel. no more excuses, maybe nobody will like it. maybe it will make anyone who actually knows me uncomfortable until they have to put it down and wonder how they never knew about all of this. i'm sorry in advance for all the secrets i'm about to tell, for the recollections down to the last detail i'm about to share with audiences who should continue to see me in whatever light they want as long as it's a presumption and not an accurate perception.

these contacts i've made in the past month can't go to waste or i will always look back at this and wonder why i didn't at least make the effort to see my name on the cover of a book the publisher won't be able to market to anyone but tori amos fans. and while some of what i have to say makes me smile more of it makes me wonder how i came to be at a time & place in my life where i'm ready to push all these bits of myself out into the spotlight for people i don't trust (or even have a base respect for) to pick apart and use to label me in whatever way they see fit.

you know you can't turn the page on all the people you used to be, right? no matter how hard you try to bury the past there will always be someone who remembers it just as vividly and will be glad to remind you when you think you've finally run far enough that none of it even matters anymore.

most of the time you are your own worst enemy when it comes to distancing yourself from your previous forms.

this entry isn't meant to be sad but i think it comes across that way. i'm not sad, i'm just not familiar with the feeling of relief that i'm experiencing right now. who knows how long i'll actually stick to it this time; my ability to express myself comes & goes pretty frequently. everything feels hazy right now, which i suspect means i am on the right track to at least pulling the strings together in the loose early version of what i hope to finish.

of course, the true test of my self-acceptance will be when it comes time to let other people read everything. maybe i'll show it to strangers and leave it up to my friends and family to read it only if/when it's all in print. then it'll be too late for them to tell me off or try to talk me out of including certain portions of the story.

i hope you're all hitting REM cycles while i dig deeper into the recesses of my memory to pull together a project worth the paper i someday want to see it printed on.

i just had the most divine weekend of all of 2008. hopefully you kids had a good time doing... i dunno, bbq stuff or whatever we're supposed to do during bullshit bank holidays. i mean, clearly these weekends were made to ingest flesh & booze. i think i had a pretty good balance of the two myself, come to think of it.

otep can't decide if she's mad at me or not for leaving her... i missed her so i have a feeling she and i will totally be cuddling in like 20 minutes.



planning sick-tight-awesome lenehaad adventures. also, my friend jimmy james & i have been trying to concoct plans for beer-ventures. you wouldn't believe how hard it is to have beer-ventures when you're snooty & broke.

got some mad-epic big spoon thing going on... i'm sure you noticed since you guys all lurk the shit out of my myspace. (no lies among friends, right?)  i'm happy, but you're more than welcome to hate all you want as long as you're afraid. :]

i am suffering from serious sleep deprivation after getting bumped off my flight from the wee hours of tuesday morning, having quite the long day instead of traveling and then getting like... no shut-eye prior to hopping on subways & trains and shit to get to the airport. straight from long beach to the office--you kids better pretend you like me for at least the rest of the week or i will probably have to throw rocks at you.

none of this makes sense. i will write something better tomorrow.

apparently the only time i am worth hitting on is when you add in & out to my immediate vicinity. yesterday was probably the fourth time i've been to in & out and wound up really creeped out while waiting for my insanely large, carb-filled delicious meal. (two double-doubles protein style, fries, large vanilla milkshake in case you're ever in town and see fit to feed me.)

i mean i've been hit on while cramming handfuls of fries into my mouth driving down sunset, once while vanilla milkshake dribbled down my chin because the lid fell off the top and i wound up looking like i took a pretty serious cumshot to the face, once because some stringy-haired musician liked my "sick tattz" and another time some guy wanted me to sit down to "teach him how to use his blackberry". which was apparently his way of asking for my phone number so he could call me to check his reception.

... this guy wanted to talk about french fries and "doing it animal style". (google it to see how this actually pertains to in & out if you are from the midwest.)

fuck it, everyone likes watching me eat. imagine how skinny i would be if i'd quit eating so much crap? not like i have any qualm with my body, as you can tell because i roll around on the floor and make my signature please-stick-your-penetrating-device/appendage-there faces.



sexii face, i pwnz u at it.

speaking of sex faces, thank you for all the comments. my new set is at 98 comments right now and i think that makes this one of the top 5 most commented sets on the site. super-flattering you guys, thank you. growing into myself has finally paid offffff. <3333

i'm glad you all enjoy the magic peter worked with his POV-style shooting of me shoving my heel in my mouth.



here's me at regular levels of sex kitten status (i.e. not made up by jenna to look hotter than ever)



but here's what it looked like when jenna & i were waiting for peter to finish setting some stuff up:


if you guys don't have a spooky jewish stoner makeup artist friend i suggest you invest in one. they are epic (and sometimes they let you touche their titties in public). <3





ignore my sweet 'do in that photo, i think we were dancing shortly before (wasted, so i can't remember) & i was really sweaty all night. aren't goths supposed to resemble corpses and not be flinging sweat on all their friends? whatever,  i still managed to walk the two miles home from bar sinister so it's probably a good thing i drank so heavily both before and after this gathering.




xanthia's really hot y'all, p.s.

um, what else? oh! i will be without internet from tomorrow (thursday) afternoon until tuesday morning. i am going to go stay with my friend in the woods to drink a lot of whiskey and have some of those types of adventures you prefer your mother never find out about. ;] the internet & phone reception there is absolute shit (thanks t-mobile!) so even if i wanted to i couldn't check up on my e-life. i don't get to do that much so please only send epic freakout emails/messages if you're in the midst of losing an appendage or trying to warn me of the zombie apocalypse... actually don't bother to tell me about the last one, because by the time i'd be finding out i'm sure i'd already be the walking undead.

see you (next?) tuesday. :]

u no what? analeez and me arr fighting. i'm going 2 send her passive-aggressive txt mssgs to make her angry and then we can act liek we're gunna fight in publick.

bitch iz goin downzzzzzzzzzz!!!!

one of the infinite number of items i could offer up as proof:



julene = incredible, obviously.

annaliese wrote in a recent journal that i am extra awesome and you should all buy me presents. i can roll with that. gift certificates to american apparel (ooh i just admitted to shopping there, guess i'm not cool anymore!) so i can get hoodies & sweat pants, pb&j sammiches, a surplus of hypens (not the vaginal virginal webbing, the punctuation mark) since there's apparently a shortage around here, plane tickets to far-off places, and some new panties would all be appreciated.

and now, back to trying to figure out how you drive a car with a flat tire to fucking glendale from west hollywood... to get your tire replaced/patched/mended/etc.

is it thursday yet?

do you ever get the feeling that you are smack in the middle of passiveaggressivenotes.com? i kinda hate that. actually, it's not so much hate as it is an absolute irritation that people are so incapable of being direct. if you can't man the fuck up to say something, just keep your goddamn mouth shut.

enough about that--i woke up late, can't breathe, my head's pounding, and i've been trying to clear my sinuses for the past 20 minutes. maybe my "head cold" is a sinus infection. great, awesome, i don't have a health care and i'm a cheap skate.

where the hell are my goddamn blueberry pancakes? that's it, i'm going to take myself to ihop. after farhaad punches me for oversleeping. to the crackberry!

This weekend I am picking up old books and finding things in them worthy of sharing with people.



"Your love must not depend on sad-eyed boys. You can be in love with sunflower dresses and vegan lasagna and Rice Krispie Treats and rain and skateboarding and Martha Graham and angel fountains. Then the sad-eyed boys will come. Eventually their fear will fade and they will come."

- Francesca Lia Block



I am made sad by all the sad girls out there. You are looking in the wrong places for the wrong things. Please be in love with yourself first & foremost--or you'll never get "him" to be in love with you back.

In the meantime please enjoy fattening desserts, mental stimulation from the things you choose to watch or read, wear less makeup, and spend more time barefoot. Things do not have to be perfect for you to be happy. <3

at this moment i am eating lasagna, drinking the remnants of my iced caramel macchiato from... four hours ago... and thrusting my pelvis like a stripper because i am listening to britney spears.

... why do you people even like me? sheesh. oh wait, you dig me for my cat.



that was her being pissed that i was ignoring her for my henry rollins book collection. oh, what a sexy, angry, hateful, lonely person he was circa 1998. i want to wrap myself in that gym-addicted version of him just as he was starting to go gray at the temples. instead i fell asleep face-down on the pages. is that like book rape?

my brother finally got back to me last night--via text message at 1am when he was drunk. the kid can't spell to save his life anyway, so deciphering those texts was definitely an arduous task. turns out he is going to [insert name of awesome NHL team here] training camp for a week or two before flying to canada to start the season. i seriously expect to be telling y'all in the next 3 years that my brother has been drafted to the NHL.



which brings me to my next point... my brother grew again. he's fucking 6'5". IS THIS EVEN REAL?!?!?! i kinda hate him because this means he likely really will reach 6'7". most guys over 6'4" are goofy looking. then again i also happen to think my brother and i look like siblings.. yet people constantly ask if we're dating when we're in public together. gross, right?

if any of you 18-20 year old ladies are into chads (because my brother wears white sneakers, pops the collar on his polo, and thinks that khaki shorts are a fashion statement) let me know. just don't be mad that he's like... skinny. really skinny. you can admire his abs though, if that's your thing.

the last two days i have felt like this:




"i bust in dudes mouths like gushers." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAA!

shit i need to not have so much caffeine this late in the day.

I had a lot to say but right now I think it's all best kept to myself.

I feel like wrapping myself in my blue-collar working class lifestyle and telling anyone who wants to wave their fancy things in my face to get fucked.

Here is something funny...

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MYFRIEND(11:23:33 AM): fucking hell
MYFRIEND (11:23:46 AM): Stripper's gone bonkers on me
MYFRIEND (11:23:56 AM): I'm having to file a domestic violence report now
MYFRIEND (11:24:10 AM): Waiting for the cops to show up as I type this
ME (11:24:15 AM): hi um [name removed]
ME (11:24:18 AM): quit fucking crazy bitches
ME (11:24:20 AM): it'll save you drama
MYFRIEND (11:24:23 AM): HAHA! She has a masters in psychology!
ME (11:24:34 AM): FURTHER PROOF
MYFRIEND (11:24:37 AM): HAHA! Dude, this shit is happening 2 days before I'm off probation
ME (11:25:43 AM): ... this is what happens when you facefuck "lesbian" strippers
ME (11:25:55 AM): YOU'LL GET NO SYMPATHY FROM ME

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My male friends are typically amazing people with questionable judgment when erect. Nothing new about that though, eh?