Nov. 10th, 2002

blustocking: (Default)
There's a woman who comes into the bookstore on a near daily basis. I think I've mentioned her before. We call her "Sybil" as she seems to have multiple-personality disorder (which is apparently now called "Dissociative Identity Disorder"). I find her utterly fascinating.

"Sybil" will come in generally wearing the same ensemble. She's fairly short, probably in her mid-thirties and has bleached blonde hair that has a good amount of roots showing. She wears the same brown, leather bomber jacket almost every day, a shirt, and black tights with socks pulled up just over her ankles. Generally, she's wearing tennis shoes. She used to put her hair up in a straw spray pony-tail on the side of her head, but now, she's taken to wearing it down. When she walks the store in what could possibly be a concise pattern (I haven't followed her enough to notice a set pattern yet) she talks to some unseen individual in rather animated, but huddled terms. When you make eye contact with her, she seems to collapse within herself and turns to walk the other way. I never bother her, but sometimes I'll stand a distance away just to hear her conversations. I'd like to follow her invisible so that I may determine if she's talking to the same "person" all the time. Her conversations are generally Hollywood-related and very delusional. She thinks Jennifer Aniston is stalking her. I once heard her bitch about Michael Douglas, in a "personal" tone. I like to think that she was an agent at one point, an agent or a budding starlet, and she became food for the Hollywood Machine. Perhaps she lost it one day, just snapped, walked out of her office, or off the set, and never came back. I don't know where she goes or if she has a home, but she seems fairly well kept.

She doesn't seem to do it anymore, but she used to come in sans makeup every day and then leave for awhile. Later in the day, she would come back adorned with the most gaudy, garish makeup job you could find in that over-priced, too-close-to-Beverly-Hills "shopping center". We surmised that she was taking advantage of the free makeovers at either Bloomingdale's or Macy's. We couldn't decide if that's how she wanted to look, or some cruel salesgirl thought it would be a gas to tell her that's what she wanted. If that's true, I wish syphilis and genital warts upon said salesgirl. That's just wrong.

"Sybil" has moments of lucidity, though I've been told she did snap one day when an employee asked her if she needed help. I guess she started yelling very loudly and left the store.
However, there are times when she will surprise you. Apparently when an employee and a customer were standing nearby, discussing a book, "Sybil" jumped in and raved about the book and recommended another, much to the shock of the employee.

It's amazing how much this world, and the people in it, can fuck you up.

***
blustocking: (Default)
The new Peter Gabriel.
Amazing.

Reminds me of days spent listening to "Us", in both high school and college.
I even did a Design II project based on "Digging In The Dirt" and "Love To Be Loved" (or it could have been "Washing Of The Water" instead of "Love To Be Loved". It was primarly for "Digging In The Dirt" though).
It's a box that I don't open anymore. In fact, I should undo it, redo it.
I let that shit go a long time ago. I hope.
blustocking: (Default)
I just remembered a bit of dream from last night, so pardon all the updating. Wait...this is my journal, fuck off. ;)

I was making my way to a bus stop in Burbank when suddenly I looked around and everyone was gone. Everyone. It was cold and it got colder as I realized how deserted the streets were. I was slightly panicked. There was what seemed to be a church/city hall type building across the street from me, yet I was standing just outside it's black iron fence. There was silence except for the wind. White streetlight seemed to flood down from everywhere, carving stark, contrasting shadows upon the deep darkness. There were red roses growing in the yard of the grey-brown sandstone building in front of me. Suddenly I heard a dog bark and I immediately tensed, looking around. I noticed something moving in the rose bushes just over the fence and saw the glimmering eyes and black pelt of a dog staring at me. I was a little relieved, as it was on the other side of the fence from me, so I relaxed a little, only to tense up again as another, very large, black-as-midnight dog(some mix of lab and retriever? only bigger, with bright, green-yellow eyes) came padding over from the other direction. This one seemed more angry than the first, more smug...as I wasn't quite safe behind iron bars. I looked it straight in the eye and realized I was showing fear. I quickly pushed it away and held out my hand to pat its shiny black head. To my astonishment, it let me and immediately became docile.
That's all I remember.

THE END.
****

May 2010

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