Yes it’s true I am still alive…although still without outgoing email capabilites….and really, what kind of life is that.

I’m in Austin and I have many stories to tell. But not now, I’m tired. It’s late. I’m going to bed.

when you need something to distract you.

test your Cindigo knowledge.

Good luck…even I couldn’t decide on half the answers….and I made up the questions.

The highest score you can get is 107.

1. Do you ever use alone? [Yes] [ No]
2. Have you ever substituted one coffee drink for another, thinking that one particular beverage was the problem? [Yes] [ No]
3. Have you ever manipulated or lied to a barrista to obtain free drinks? [Yes] [ No]
4. Have you ever stolen coffee or stolen to obtain coffee? [Yes] [ No]
5. Do you regularly use caffiene when you wake up or when you go to bed?
[Yes] [ No]
6. Have you ever taken sleeping pills or valerian root to overcome the effects of caffiene? [Yes] [ No]
7. Do you avoid people or places that do not approve of you using caffiene? [Yes] [ No]
8. Have you ever used a drug without knowing what it was or what it would do to you? [Yes] [ No]
9. Has your job or school performance ever suffered from the effects of your caffiene use? [Yes] [ No]
10. Have you ever been arrested as a result of using caffiene? [Yes] [ No]
11. Have you ever lied about what or how much you use? [Yes] [ No]
12. Do you put the purchase of coffee ahead of your financial responsibilities?Ê [Yes] [ No]
13. Have you ever tried to stop or control your using? [Yes] [ No]
14. Have you ever been in a jail, hospital, or drug rehabilitation center because of your using? [Yes] [ No]
15. Does using interfere with your sleeping or eating? [Yes] [ No]
16. Does the thought of running out of caffiene terrify you? [Yes] [ No]
17. Do you feel it is impossible for you to live without caffiene? [Yes] [ No]
18. Do you ever question your own sanity? [Yes] [ No]
19. Is your caffiene use making life at home unhappy? [Yes] [ No]
20. Have you ever thought you couldn’t fit in or have a good time without caffiene? [Yes] [ No]
21. Have you ever felt defensive, guilty, or ashamed about your using? [Yes] [ No]
22. Do you think a lot about Starbucks? [Yes] [ No]
23. Have you had irrational or indefinable fears? [Yes] [ No]
24. Has using affected your sexual relationships? [Yes] [ No]
25. Have you ever taken caffiene in forms you didn’t prefer? [Yes] [ No]
26. Have you ever used caffiene because of emotional pain or stress? [Yes] [ No]
27. Have you ever overdosed on caffiene? [Yes] [ No]
28. Do you continue to use despite negative consequences? [Yes] [ No]
29. Do you think you might have a caffiene problem? [Yes] [ No]

last year

Washington Dulles is a smoke-free air port. Please extinguish all smoking materials while in the airport, and refrain from smoking while in public areas of the terminal. Thank you

I’m at the airport again. Traveling has lost it’s charm. I’m on my way to Philadelphia. I’m trying to think of clever and witty banter, but guess what, my brain isn’t working. I was up at 4:30 am because it was the only flight I could get. I left my phone in my truck and couldn’t find my sunglasses. I feel naked and vulnerable. Not to mention tired. I’m going to Philly talk to some very nice people about giving me work that actually makes me money. They are very, very nice…..and not because they might be reading this either.

I want to tell you about a commercial that I hate. I can’t remember which wireless company it’s for, but it doesn’t really matter, they all suck (sorry, I’m tired, haven’t had any coffee). It’s like, “my wireless service is like streams of air carrying my voice clear across the world. My wireless is like tiny little sparrows flying my beautiful message across the sky. My wireless is freedom, nobility, creation and stability, letting me cheer at my daughters little league game while I yell at the office staff to work harder.”

Sorry, my wireless is nothing like that. My wireless is, $400.00 phone bills for going over my plan, disconnection from customer service after being on hold for over an hour. My wireless is dropped calls, static and a lot of roaming charges. If it were a bird, it would be a big fat dirty pigeon with a skin disease that just pooped on my freshly washed car.

But, oh, I miss my phone so.

Speaking of skin diseases….I took Murphy to the vet yesterday. They were very jerky to me. First of all, they don’t have any shot records for her because I’ve only had her a little while and the people I got her from didn’t give me any. The lady at the counter kept handing me all of these papers and telling me that it’s up to me to give her the shots or not, but basically if I didn’t I was a really, really bad person. Finally, I had to say, “Lady, I don’t even have health insurance for myself. I love my dog and everything, but chill out.” I got her a rabies shot because she scared me enough saying that if Murphy was provoked by a mean red headed step child and my sweet innocent dog bit him or her, if I didn’t have a record of a rabies shot, they would put her to sleep. It ended up costing $100.00 for two shots, the visit and antibiotics. The vet was not very nice, and made me hold Murphy on the table while he gave her shots. He also made me pick her up and put her on the table…..she’s a 60 lb. dog. And now I left town. I know dogs don’t have extended memories, but I just know that somehow she is scared for the rest of her days.

—

I’m flying! I’m flying! 36,000 feet in the air (and boy are my arms tired). Let me tell you two things: #1 if you don’t know how to properly fasten an airplane seat belt, you should not be flying. #2 There is no such thing as a water landing. The guy sitting behind me is snoring, and the guy sitting to the right of me is a college hottie listening to his mp3 player. Me, I’m not feeling so good today. Not bad, but I could use a shower and a nap. Usually when I fly express, which is a code word for really small prop plane, I like walking out onto the tarmac. I feel like Jackie-O or something. But since I didn’t have my sunglasses, and I dressed in the dark at 4:30 am and it shows, I feel more like Jackie-O’s retarded cousin that no one ever talks about.

I’m gonna come clean. You know how all this time I’ve been portraying myself as a VERY POOR CORPORATE CITIZEN. Well, it’s all been a lie. I am actually a corporate whore. I have been supporting myself this whole year with grants from Starbucks. I have given them permission to use my image in return for a small amount of cash and unlimited triple venti carmel macciados.

it was better in theory.

Hot….very hot….brain boiling….cannot think….not clever….very much would like to be….head…hurting

Tired.

Ate fast food….instant gratification….paying severe price.

I had a not ripe yellow-green bananna in my truck this morning. I left it there for six hours. Now I have a perfectly formed coal black bananna. It’s art. I think I might take a picture….if I can…I don’t think I can….move….so….so…hot

Better than cold….but….just….so……..

Need to get my head together….can’t seem to…can’t seem…to….focus….on….

Murphy…go…get…help….no Murphy…I don’t want…your ball….get the Sheriff….Sheriff…not ball

*camera pans out as Cindigo rests her weary head on the dog fur covered wood floor. Her eyes flutter and then shut as the dramatic music swells in the background.*

I like to sharpen pencils.

Today is the first day of the best week of my life. I think if I repeat this mantra over, and over, and over again….it will become so. I have crossed out many things on my list. Good day=crossing things off your list….I guess. Right? Socially acceptable activity such as grocery shopping, paying bills and cleaning up stuff makes my existance on this planet acceptable.

I made up a song today. I do this often when I’m in the car, driving, and I don’t know the words.

It’s fantastic. I’m waiting for the record company offers to come pouring in. Here it is:

I knew a guy
he liked to fry
lived in the sky
He was so hungry
but he didn’t have any money
not even for a potato
so he had to eat rocks
He didn’t like it
No, he didn’t like it
He poured some water on them
water, water
to make them taste better
but they didn’t
and they broke all of his teeth
Oh yeah
and he was so sad
because dental work is expensive
and he didn’t have any money
oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.

Here is a short and embarrassing (bare ass) story that I will tell quickly because I am almost late as it is. I just got out of the shower and was walking around my bedroom, doing the normal things you do after you take a shower. Well I do normal things, dry off, maybe put some lotion on….what you do after a shower….now that’s your own business. Anyway, I see that my blinds are half way up. Not wanting to expose myself to my entire old school, republican neighborhood, I try to close it with the highly technical string mechanism. It is stuck. I am having difficulty. I climb on my bed and stand up to try to fix the problem at the top. It is all tangled and I am getting frustrated. I must have yanked it slightly too hard, because the entire shade fell off the window and behind my bed. At the exact second that I am completely frontally exposed to my street (I swear to god I am not making this up) 40 rollerbladers are skating by right in front of my house. I scream and fling myself backwards off of the bed. I hit my head on the chair and ended up in a heap on the floor. I stayed there for a minute laughing while the animals circled around me making sure that their food giver was okay.

If someone would have been taping, I definitely would have won the ten grand on America’s Funniest Videos.

I’m listening to Peter Murphy, Cuts You Up.

I’m feeling cut up. I’m feeling cut up like a piece of string cheese. Life is so weird. Does everyone feel like this? Why does it feel like no? Why does everything feel like no? Why in the hell were humans given the ability to question why?

I feel like a little baby sea lion getting chomped by a orca whale. What can I do? I am but a little baby sea lion with flippers and dull teeth. I don’t even have thumbs to make my flipper into a fist and punch orca in the eye.

Now I’m listening to Indigo Eyes….which I am taking the liberty of changing to “Cindigo Eyes”.

Saw his past
He had dug for trust
With blind infected hands
And wondered as the hurt bit hard
Why the sacred weren’t at hand
Only when his ears were deaf
To the angels light burst waves
Only when his ears were deaf
Did life turn from fog to fog
But not evil but estranged
But not evil but estranged

Indigo eyes, Indigo eyes
Indigo eyes, Indigo eyes

So what are you saying here Peter? Only when you completely give up can the divine save your dramatic ass? Then “life turned from fog to fog”? So it was dim and confusing, then you got some sort of enlightment and then were engulfed by dimness and confusion again. Then to sum it all up, you’re not bad, you’re just lonely.

hmmmm…..sounds about right. Great, I’ve figured it out.

I win.

But of course, there’s always Radiohead’s view….

I might be wrong
I might be wrong
I could have sworn
I saw a light coming on

reminds you of an ex-lover: “Jealousy” -Tragicly Hip, “A Daisy Chain For Satan”-My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult

reminds you of an ex-friend: “Friend is a four letter word”-Cake

(used to) makes you cry: “Not An Addict”-Kay’s Choice

makes you laugh: “David Duchovny”-Bree Sharp

makes you wanna dance: anything that isn’t jazz

reminds you of the one you love: “Psychosonic Cindy”-Transvision Vamp

you wish you wrote: “Hallelujah”-Jeff Buckley (remix)

you never want to hear again: Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

sums up your teenage years: “Head Like a Hole”-NIN, “Don’t you (forget about me”- Simple Minds

you used to hate but now love: Johnny Cash

you like out of your parents record collection: my parents don’t know what music is.

(band) you love that you wouldn’t know about if it wasn’t for a friend: Le Tigre

reminds you of your first crush: “Windscreen”-Depeche Mode

makes you think of the moon: “Moon Sammy”-Soul Coughing

makes you think of Stars: “What I am”-Edie Brickell

makes you think of the sun: “Those Whole Girls (Run in Grace)-Suzanne Vega

makes you think of the night: “Blue Highway” - Billy Idol

makes you think of sex: ” Justify My Love ” -Madonna

makes you think of being alone: “One Man Army”-Our Lady Peace, “One”-Filter remix

you love to hear at clubs: Crystal Method/Filter “Trip Like I do” remix

can never resist singing along to: “American Girls”-Weezer & Soul Coughing

Here’s a hypothetical scenario that did not happen in reality, I repeat, DID NOT ACTUALLY TAKE PLACE. Any persons living or dead (especially Cindigo) had nothing to do with this fictional story.

Say your neighbor is a complete bitch. She is old and thinks this gives her a license to be annoying, crabby, opinionated and just downright mean. Say she calls the cops to your house because the soaker hose was accidentally left on over night and she has water in her backyard. This lady’s side gutters drain directly into your basement. As you are watering the tomato plants today, you notice an even longer extension on the gutter that dumps water even more directly into your already leaking basement that you have spent $2,500 to repair. In the past you have asked her to please get different extentions so the water would go to the front yard. No response. You have ripped off the bottom part of the “L” joint and stuffed it into her bushes. You have even put bricks in the bottom to disperse the water. The person watering the tomato plants is PISSED. Now, this fictional character wants to do something mean and childish, but more than that does not want water in the basement. This person is very crafty and has a plan. Said fictional person has taken the bottom of the “L” off of aforementioned gutter, snuck it back to the tomato plant lair and with a drill and a pair of tin snips has cut a large portion out of the bottom. Now unbenounced to bitch pants, the water will be going where it belongs….in her basement.

good story….don’t you think?

I’ve been hanging out with this person/guy that just fell out of the sky (yes, I’m writing about you). Okay, not literally “fell out”, but you get it, you’re smart. Now I’m in the process of trying to figure out if he’s a much needed summer rain, or Skylab. All situational baggage, that I’m not going to tell you about, points to Skylab.

But, I don’t feel like Skylab is falling on my head. And most of the time, through years of trial and error, I’m pretty adept at getting my protective gear in place to deal with the burning flak.

I’m thinking of all the greatness in the world that on paper looked not so great. Einstein quit school at 15, Beethoven was deaf, and Apple Computer was founded by two geeky guys in a garage. Who’s to say really. Since I used the word greatness, now I’m wondering about it.

I’ve been staring out my front window into the green, green trees thinking about my own personal definition greatness….

I think anything that inspires or speaks to your sense of true or highest self is greatness. So, in my thinking, greatness would be a reaction (or proaction…is that a word?) to circumstance.

*ham handed segue*

Here’s what some super duper smart people said about Einstein:

“What he did with his brain depended on the nurturing of family and friends, a solid German and Swiss education, and his own bold personality.”

The only one I’m pretty solid on, I would say, is my bold personality. One out of three is okay. If you take out “German and Swiss”, I’m pretty good for that too. So….good….now I feel validated…..watch out world….I’m on a mission to build a nuclear bomb! But a nice nuclear bomb….a nuclear bomb of heath and clarity. <—-you can’t see me right now, but just know that I am laughing out loud, so hard at my little dumb joke.

I was hanging out with my friend Rob yesterday. I noticed that my black t-shirt was on inside out. I said to him, “Hey, why didn’t you tell me my shirt was on inside out?” He said, “I thought you were trying to be jaunty”.

*cindigo cracks up laughing*

*Please note. I am fine. After I vent…I am fine. Please do not call 911. Please do not send concerned and alarmed emails suggesting therapy and paxil. I have binged on high fructose / caffeinated emotions, and once they are purged…I will be fine.

I’ve been crying a lot….well, not a lot, but some.

Why Cindigo…why you cry? You sad?

No, not really. Maybe a little stressed, sad…mabye some, annoyed…off and on, confused, tired, dizzy, weepy….but funny, clever and smiling whenever people ask. Because, there’s no solution because it isn’t really a problem to be solved. Because I don’t want to be a bother. Because my friends have their own stuff to deal with. Because, because, because…..

The breaking point was at Target. I was shuffling around trying to decide which brand of potting soil to buy when a conversation catches my ear. It was two women, one maybe late forties, and the other maybe late twenties. I think they were related somehow. The were talking about what I think was the older woman’s living room. I turn the cart around the corner of the isle, so I can see them. The older woman is holding up a small circular vase with three silk roses in it. As I’m turning the cart into the isle she is directly in front of me. She’s wearing a short bleached denim skirt and has yellow, blond, fried, short hair. She is wearing too much eye make up and says in a voice that has smoked a pack of Marlboro’s a day for the last twenty years, ” I love this. This is classy.”

I wanted to ram her with my cart. I felt murder in my heart of hearts. First of all, fake flowers are never “classy”. Second of all, once something is described as “classy”, it is immediately white trash. Third of all, you are my elder, you are supposed to be wise from life. I am supposed to find wisdom from those who have gone before me. Right? It’s supposed to work that way…right?

Some days I am in love with humanity. I see the depth and beauty of the souls of my brothers and sisters and it makes me weep with joy. Other days, I hate. I hate so venomously, it even makes me a little nervous.

Yesterday I watched an Animal Planet special on animal emotions. I cried for two hours and gave myself a really bad headache. It just hurt me so to watch the killer whales chomp up the baby sea lions and toss them in the air like rag dolls. Then they showed the momma sea lion screaming in agony over her lost pup. It killed me….and I couldn’t turn it off.

I could continue on about how much existential anxiety that I feel…but…come on….boring, boring, boring…..

I’ve been praying a lot. I’m not kidding, this actually comes into my head. “Dear god, fuck you…I’m doing the best that I can”.

Now I was going to tell you about all the smart and sassy books I’m reading but….FUCK…I just spilled my entire, brand new cup of very large coffee all over the wood floor.

FUCK
FUCK
FUCK

I’m taking a shower and then I’m going to bed.

I started cleaning out a closet that badly needed it. I cam across all of my old photos and old report cards. Above is a picture of Kim Manacci and Cindigo. I haven’t seen Kim in ten years. I talked to her once about five years ago. So, if you’ve seen her….tell her I’m looking for her.

My report cards have confirmed the obvious. I like to write and I hate to do algebra.

Focus Cindigo….focus. Start a task…finish a task.

Now I must put all the crap back in the closet.

foo foo

I just watched the last half of Under Suspicion with Gene Hackman and Morgan Freeman. I get up for two minutes and totally miss who the real killer is….has anyone seen it. It’s going to bug me.

I don’t like pine trees

I don’t want to watch tv
I don’t want to take the dog for a walk
I don’t want to go to sleep yet
I really don’t feel like writing
I would like to eat something but I don’t know what it is
I think I should clean the house but I’m not inspired to
I don’t want to pick up the phone

I would like to throw rotten eggs at my neighbor’s house
I would like to go swimming
I would like to eat a bowl of ice cream without paying any sugar related consequences
I would like to go to the park with my friends, but they live too far, it’s too late and they wouldn’t come right now
I would like it if my dog could speak English to me…or Spanish for that matter….then I could brush up on a second language
I would like for Ed McMahon to show up at my door with a million dollar check
I would like it if PEOPLE WHO OWE ME MONEY WOULD PAY ME!
I would like to blow bubbles from a red plastic wand
I wish I was in the forest standing on some moss (without any bugs)
I would like to get another tattoo, but I don’t know what I want

If you hate reading about other people’s dreams….skip this entire next section.

I had a dream last night that I was in a crowd of people and we were walking en masse up the ramps of a parking garage. There was a police woman standing at a junction herding people up the ramps. I walked behind her and went up a different way. It got precarious. There were huge gaps in the cement, I could see all the way to the bottom. I could see the thousands of people walking up the ramps and that the only thing that was holding everything up was two by two foot pieces of flimsy metal. I was petrified. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, so I grabbed on to a cement pillar and started to cry. A blue sedan drove up from nowhere, the passenger door opened and a voice said, “Do you need some help?” Ummmm….here’s where I can’t figure out the symbolism any more. The driver of the blue sedan was…Lionel Riche. We drive to his house and he introduces me to his wife Ki-Ki (in real life I have no idea if Lionel Riche is married) who is white with blond curly hair. I ask him if I can borrow the car because there is something I have to do. I start driving in the dark and it starts storming. I get frustrated and upset because I can’t remember what I have to do or where I’m going. I also know that I have to get Lionel Riche’s car back to him, and now, I can’t remember how to get back to his house. In the darkness my headlights shine on a figure dancing crazily in the rain. I pass him up but then feel like I have to go back because it’s dark and raining and maybe the guy needs a ride somewhere. It turns out to be an acquaintance of mine (that I saw in real life yesterday). He gets into the passenger seat and is having a fit, like an epileptic seizure or some sort of Pentecostal experience. His eyes are rolled back in his head and he’s laughing and speaking in tongues. I’m scared and angry, and I don’t understand any of this. All of a sudden I’m not in the car any more. I’m in a small, dark rectangular room. Brenda from Six Feet Under is lying on the floor. She’s wearing a Catholic school uniform and looks incredibly stoned. Her eyes are rolled back in her head and she’s laughing a stoned laugh. All of a sudden she starts throwing up huge amounts of water. I try to back out, but I can’t find the door.

Then I wake up.

That’s just too messed up for my tiny brain to process right now.