August 27, 2005

writing things

the wine has gone to my head it has surrounded me like the bath the night before. i blew bubbles in the bath, i thought of drowning but knew he was coming over. Tonight my ring is ruby red much like my newly self re-peirced ear which is beating red like my ring, like the bittersweetness of tonight. I had thought being the last night i should try to change things, bet it all or pull out completely. we watched baseball and drank cheap wine, nothing had changed, i loved him. we often lied in bed, him watching tv or sleeping and me staring at him thinking "this could be it." hes coming opps! oh, the baseball has once again distracted him. im hiding in my parents room writing, i find pecils to be romantic especially black ones, my mother loves them as well, that must be where i got it from. Charles Rossi wine and ESPN are another kind of romantic, a summer romance. i used to sleep with sports center on and dream of the boys of summer. he found me writing here and asked "what are you doing" i quickly wrapped up my sentence and said "writing" and giggled. he said " writing? writing what?" i said "things" and he said "writing things?" i responded "yes" and quickly hid my notebook away for later typing. this was my last night of summer and also the best night of summer. he had found me there writing, writing things, writings things about him, about romance, about him.

August 24, 2005

first times

today is my first day at my new college. last night was my first night in my new apartment. im nervous and excited. its been hard becuase the boyfriend is leaving and now im two hours away. we had a couple good nights there before the end. i prewrote a blog about it but i left it at home so i'll have to let you in on that later. my blogging has been hit and miss so once school gets going ill be more available to get back to my very amazing writing instead of whatever i think that this is. anyway thanks for reading.

August 18, 2005

the last nights

I wanted him to pick me up by the arm from where I sat in the middle of the street. I wanted him to look at me like I was crazy with a fury in his eyes while I stared back blankly taking in every aspect of his face. I wanted him to tell me how dangerous sitting here was and how it may be quiet but high gang bangers come soaring down this street and they would hit me so quick and never stop to check me after. I was screaming for attention. Maybe it was true, maybe I was looking for a father figure. I didn’t go sit on the cold asphalt Indian style in the outskirts of his beautiful ghetto, instead I waited in the car listening to my Paul Simon and making modeling faces in the rear view mirror. My non-smile is too sad, I may not have the eyes for this as Paul says, “ he can’t leave his fears behind…phantom figures in the dust.” I start to recall my own fears and land on how fear is really my biggest fear. Stupid. As I write fear overcomes me and my mind wonders to bigger eerie fears… he’s here and i'm not on the street.

August 15, 2005

these are a few of my favorite things 8/15/05

Riding in the middle seat of a car- front or back

corn dogs& hot dogs, but not real dogs – the exception of Reno, a Rottweiler mix we once dog sat , he spoke French or took French commands I couldn’t resist him.

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Wooden hangers- they are a must says Carson Kressley of Queer Eye and I absolutely agree

Silver and gold mixed jewelry, supposedly it’s a big no no but I prefer both together

High Heels

Finding my keys (with non-duplicatable new apartment key) and my Tiffany necklace that I thought I lost about three days ago

Marabou (as in feathers)

Marilyn Monroe- I have posters, books and pictures, I have the white dress outfit made to fit me and a wig I played her in two plays.

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August 10, 2005


Recently this week I spent some time with my mother riding in the car. Through all my endeavors this summer I have seen really little of my parents which after spending this time with my mother I realized how cool she really is and how I probably should have hung out with her this whole time because it would have saved me a lot of the trouble I got in. however I did nothing since to make this change, I guess in the back of my mind I figure my parents will always be there and my friends from college and various boyfriends wont. I’m probably wrong about this and should be spending more time with my mother …anyway I’m kind of getting away from the idea of my post here.

So my mother and I are talking and she likes to listen to my music when i'm in the car with her and I have kind of weird taste in music for someone my age and we were listening to “Girls just wanna have fun” she starts laughing and says, “You know you were probably conceived to this song.” A little stunned I said “ on April fool’s day?” because this is something she told me a long time ago before I knew what conception was. And then I said, “ so I’m a big joke that just wants to have fun?” after the words escaped my mouth I found that is the most apt description of myself I’ve heard in a long time.

August 07, 2005

Sad day

Tears well up in my eyes and I am surrounded by heat the phrase “sad day” keeping repeating itself in my head. I allow myself one of these everyone in awhile where I don’t do anything and let the sadness surround me the same way that the heat is. There nothing specific but all of it, all of the changes and the loss. Mostly it’s the loss of him and me and him. We’re all going separate directions and as hard as I try Ito hold it all together there will be an explosion and each component will be flung as far as the night wind will take them. And there will be sad days wherever I go. Days where I don’t want to do a thing and just lie here and sweat and cry or just sit waiting for a call I don’t even want to answer but I need because I may not make it through the night with out talking to someone, anyone even if I cant stand them. The days are ticking by so slowly with a quickest of pace. The change is on the horizon and I cant face it I want to put my sunglasses back on and hide from the dawn that is change.

I contemplate going to the movies alone but I’ve already made promises I am not allowed to break and I cant go to the movies, I cant do what I want, I cant do who I want because down that road there is another loss. Stay within the lane, its like bowling and I’m terrible at bowling. I don’t stay in the lanes I don’t knock out all the pins. I have sad days and I do what I want. Or I did, I had this fatal stint with doing what I wanted and whom I wanted and almost lost it all, I had bet it all and practically lost it in an awful game of 10 pins. I hate bowling and I hate sad days, but really I languish in them, both.

August 06, 2005

a meme of sorts

i myspace and there are always these weird bulletins about different things wear you copy and paste you own thing at the bottom like what would you say if you woke up in bed next to the person above you or click this website what is your stripper name. i usually never do them, its not really my thing but one came across my virtual bulletin board and i couldnt resist, probably because its all about me and i can be selfcentered- i chalk this up to being an only child. anyway the directions are: Type "(your name) is" with the quotes, into a Google search then pick out your favorite 5 respons.

so Rio is:
Rio is aimed at europe
Rio is not for the faint hearted
Rio is stunningly beautiful
Rio is in trouble again
Rio is a bit off the strip

oh and i did my real name for the myspace version. between the two results you can really get a grip of who i am or who google thinks i am or something. it was fun anyway right? try it i highly recommend, im interested to read yours anyway.

(my real name) is:

-tired fo broken promises
-eating and Fredric and Tommy are still in the love tub outside
-on medication, she no longer cringes and cries when she swallows
-refreshingly detailed
-dating Jamie Kennedy

i know lucky right?
so try it out on your own site or comment with your results or dont whatever you want.

August 04, 2005

These are a few of my favorite things 8/4/05*

Watching the service bars on my cell phone go down with each ring when I try to call people from my bed.

Hanging out in my underwear.

Kleenex with lotion in them.

Rhinestones, rhinos with rhinestones. i used to wear a rhinestone by my right eye everyday for over a year, everyday…

Lying on my back with my legs sticking straight up to the ceiling, especially with shoes on, maybe uggs maybe heels.

Boys, especially ones that don’t call me.

*this is a new thing i think i may get into frequently, it may happen daily, weekly or not at all i'm not sure yet, but it seems promising when i have nothing else to blog about.

a poem about young love

Disastrous love on the wings of a pelican, Swimming, diving, jumping, kissing, caressing, pumping what is it about my dreams that leaves me here dreaming? Scheming, leaning towards you and you lip balm, rice and handsome palm. I’ve seen you at the baseball games, danced with you, didn’t know your name. But now things have changed, names are known feelings shown but thrown away or hidden underneath the hot cold beat of Summertime. Continue the rhyme just to fill the space I look at your face feelings more known then shown, ask you for things I don’t need, take the lead or not please don’t take off your shirt its too hot.

August 03, 2005

Today on A Girl Named Rio

today i have the wonderful opportunity to be a guest blogger on one of my most favorite sites, Waking Ambrose , i read it daily. The owner of this site has become a very good internet friend and helped me through my blogging traumas, gave me some good advice i should have heeded a lot earlier. anyway his site is a working dictionary with definitions from Ambrose Bierce's Devil's Dictionary as well as Dougs own definitions. its cynical and i adore it. upon telling my non-blogging friends about my gig as a guest blogger they look at me inquisitively and giggle just to say, " i dont think i get it." In a ll reality i'm not positive i get it either but im really excited to participate. Welcome everyone that is stopping by i hope you will come back and most of all thank you Doug. ( ew...i know i'm gushing a bit but this is what happens when i get excited)

August 02, 2005

how things change

I got my first boyfriend when I was 14 years old and he was 17. I was young and he was na├»ve, we waited for over a year to have sex. We were very much in love and thought that we would be together forever. I recently was going through some old journals trying to find a poem I had written to put on my blog; instead I found some stuff that he had written in one of my journals. I’m going to put it on here, I don’t know if this is legal but I highly doubt his rambling story was copy written or that he will ever find out. I found the story to be so ironic because we are now nothing alike but at one time all the things he wrote were what I wanted. Dear god what was I thinking?

Once there was a little girl who had beautiful curly hair. She was the best ballerina in the whole entire world. One day she fell in love with a boy named Teddy. After that day she was very happy because Teddy loved her and she loved Teddy. As they got older the ballerina and Teddy got married. They lived together in a house on Carmel Valley Road. The ballerina was in plays and ballets in San Francisco and blew glass on the weekends. Teddy turned out to be one of the smartest businessmen in California. Not only were they some of the wealthiest people in the world but they were definitely the happiest. Happiness is the most important thing to them and even though they can have anything in the world that they want they still have the most important thing in the world, love. The thing that binds two together for eternity not the weak bond of lust. He would send her flowers every one-year anniversary. Everyday he would make her laugh and love life to the fullest. She would make his heart warm every time that he would see her or hear her voice. Even in her old age she would make him feel like the most fortunate man in the world. Even today if you listen hard in her moms house you can hear her laughing with joy and love from him tickling her or just because they were in true love. Now both of them are together with no separation. They are like two unicorns that are running on the clouds of heaven with each step they fall higher into love. Everyday they tell each other how much they love each other and they are lucky that they met each other.

I guess it is a nice story; the writing is interesting which would explain why he is into bodybuilding, cars, frats, and business and not art. We broke up because he had been away at college for a year and two months into his second year he thought he would want to be with other people, to experience other people. That was about four years ago and he went out with one girl for a short amount of time and is just recently seeing a girl who his mother says looks just like me. I think it’s obvious I took this other people thing serious and really got into the game. Anyway I guess there will be no unicorns flying through the clouds of heaven for us anymore. Actually I think he might be gay.

August 01, 2005

Still no answers

I left my house with a new accomplishment in mind; once again thinking this is another boy that just must be taken care of. Now this certain boy holds a little bit of work but we have the tension that needs to be popped, and quickly as far as I was concerned. He is a former roommate from Australia, and this was his going home party. He’s beautiful and probably my best friend to date, we tell each other everything so he knows how crazy I can be and he can match my craziness and probably raise me 20 or so. I however had left out the fact that he would be my conquest for the night until the next morning. Once it came to game time I positioned myself between him and any other possibly considered pretty girl and he pulled me into the bathroom, of course, my game plans rarely go unsuccessful. We kissed with much giggling and shhhhh’s we embraced, this embrace that had been on the verge of our lips, our bodies. Knocks came looking for us both and we smiled and silently laughed to each other and then the worst part came; he was kissing me and I could see it in the reflection of the mirror, now under any other circumstance this would be extremely hot and even upon retelling this part of the story many friends have considered it to be hot, I however was disgusted. Not by him I mean it was hot, he was hot I however was disgusted by watching myself be kissed. I have this fascination with looking at myself in the mirror when I am drunk or otherwise altered and saying to myself “ what the hell are you doing Rio? What are you thinking?” and this is what I found myself doing asking myself what I imagined I was going to find with this aussie? I found a lot of fun, I guess but its just getting old all these mirrors and boys. We ended up in his bed with him murmuring through the night, “ why didn’t we do this earlier? We should have been doing this the whole time you lived here.” While I agreed with these ideas I found myself thinking: another bed and still no answers.