12.12.10

he lovingly wrapped my ankles in thick twine. i complained when it was too tight, and the knots were loosened. as i reciprocated the action, tears slid off the tip of my nose to the graveled ground, and he gently smoothed them away. i couldn't speak, or my resolve would be broken. the rope next surrounding my shoulders felt like an embrace, a definitive physical representation of our love that could not be held by earthly boundaries. i held the end of the last bit of rope, and he grasped the other end to his chest, spinning slowly in place to wrap it around his torso. we sank to our knees; he was now crying as well, but peacefully, with no hint of fear. finally we lay on our backs, the stars a glinting reminder of our imminent escape to a world of our own creation, free, at last alive.

[edit:this sounds like a romance novel. my bad! blame the wine]

emma cooper

writing prompts. is this what news is today?

NEW LEAKS SUGGEST CHINA LOSING PATIENCE WITH NORTH KOREA

A LESS THAN FLATTERING LOOK AT LEADERS

CLINTON SLAMS DOCUMENT RELEASE

SERIOUS ACTOR BECAME SULTAN OF SILLY

5 THINGS TO LOOK FOR IN A GREAT TEQUILA

BRIDAL SURGERY SHOW DEBUTS TO CRITICISM

COUPLE'S FIRST HOME HOLDS SURPRISE: METH

OFFICIALS: ARMED STUDENT HOLDS HOSTAGES

TEEN INDICTED IN OREGON BOMB PLOT CASE

SUICIDE ON INTERNET SPARKS DEBATE

GAGA 'DIES' ONLINE- FOR A CAUSE

COUPLE ALLEGEDLY HID FIVE KIDS FROM SOCIETY

on that disney ish.

pogo-wishery

i'd have to agree.

cyndiiii

it's halloween

i'm halloweened out. see you next year.

someone once said, "when did women become beautiful?"

must have been sometime before 1922.

Whenever I ride the el, as it decends towards the Second Street station, I see spectres begin to appear in the tunnel surrounding the train. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, wisps of light and vague features solidify then dissipate, sometimes traveling alongside, other times flashing by, buried in the subway walls. Some are familiar, vaguely, like childhood memories long gone.

STELLLLLLAAAA

i do love valentine...

wes anderson and sofia coppola for stella artois.

maybe overlook the advertising and just enjoy the colors and general art direction.

10.18.10

she sat by herself at table one, looking out the window, two bottles of red wine in front of her. i approached and asked if i could open one, and she looked at me unseeing, buried in her thoughts for a few seconds before answering that one was open already. i retreated, wondering if her date still to arrive was romantic or platonic, a boyfriend or blind connection. her eyes looked disappointed already after a short wait, so i hoped for her sake that he was a stand up guy that wouldn't stand her up.

he came, soon, and i returned to the table. i was surprised by his appearance; he was middle aged, balding, with unflattering mediocre frames. she was slightly younger, but attractive, blonde, wearing a wrap dress and sexy but sensible heels. my snap judgement at this point, that it was indeed a blind date, was erased when i realized their conversation was comfortable, friendly. he ordered for the two of them, an action which may come off as polite but which i expressly dislike, as it's based on the implication that the man has better taste in dining than the woman, or that he's assertive and in charge. that traditional male/female domination/submission habit has got to go.

i realized, though, as their dinner continued, that they were on equal ground. happy, dining together as a special treat, they held hands over the table, just for a minute, and i could tell they were still in love.

he ordered her a second foie gras ("my girl, she just can't get enough") and this time the gesture seemed caring, not dominating. he realized her desire and wanted to fulfill it; she protested halfheartedly, jokingly.

the night went on, the restaurant emptied slowly, and still they sat, enjoying the food slowly. both were lightly drunk on the wine and the rich food, laughing and teasing each other, making joking bets and empty promises.

after hours, the drinks gone and the final chocolate eaten, i was imagining them stumbling a few blocks away to their brownstone, making love, a night for the memory books. while clearing a table nearby, i overheard their conversation.

"when can we do this again?"

"i'm not sure". he cleared his throat, glanced at his watch. held her hand. "i'll call you a cab".

her face, just seconds before so glowing and peaceful, looked crestfallen. she re-arranged the expression to determined resignation.

they walked outside together, intimate, and he ushered her into a car outside and walked away down the sidewalk. ten minutes later he returned, shivering, and said, "i forgot my coat."

i retrieved it from the closet and handed it to him. as he put it on and turned towards the door, i saw him reach in the pocket, pulling out a ring, which he slipped on his finger before walking outside into the cold.

10.13.10

the stomachache; interesting how such a physical reaction can occur because of emotional or mental distress. it's usually associated with dread, at least in my case, which is interesting because nerves and anxiety aren't usually part of my reaction to life. as i realize one is coming on, i first have to determine whether the pain is located in my uterus or closer to my solar plexus. as i realize it's not a monthly woman type thing, i then analyze all foods recently ingested to figure out if i've eaten something to make me sick. after crossing these options off my mental list, stress is the final option, so i have to accept the fact that my body's telling me i'm upset. i'm pretty good at ignoring emotions, and not thinking about my problems, so i get kinda aggravated when they're so sick of being pushed aside that they attack my midsection. i think my organs are putting out a hit.

10.12.10

the tomato jungle in my backyard is a mess, the fruits resting on the ground, colors gradating from bright citron to bruised purple red. i don't have much of a green thumb, or a propensity for responsibility. the stakes my roommate bought for the explicit purpose of making sense of the garden are leaning in the corner by the back door, neglected. they stand next to a bag of potting soil; lack of garden shed turns the kitchen into a catch-all for tools and equipment, so i'm constantly reminded of the tasks i'm shirking.

house music/ swedish pop

museum of bellas artes. watch the glow.

oh ye denver birds

brisbane based group create offbeat harmonies and layer countless instruments to a make this stand out track- one of the best songs i've heard in a while (yes, i realize it's been around for months).

1984.

maybe it's time to dress like a lady?

biting the hand that feeds

White Sea - Mountaineer: "White Sea - Mountaineer"

stills from the brand new white sea song's video shoot.

more teen dreamz.

via rcrdlbl

"Pier Angeli, 1971 or '72, also pills. Donald "Red" Barry, shot himself in 1980. Charles Boyer, 1978, pills again. Charles Butterworth, 1946, I think. In a car. Supposedly, it was an accident, but, you know, he was distraught. Dorothy Dandridge, pills, 1965. Albert Dekker, 1968. He hung himself. He wrote his suicide note in lipstick on his stomach. William Inge, carbon monoxide, 1973. Carole Landis, pills again. I forget when. George Reeves, "Superman" on TV, shot himself. Jean Seberg, pills, of course, 1979. Everett Sloane - he was good - pills. Margaret Sullavan, pills. Lupe Velez, a lot of pills. Gig Young, he shot himself and his wife in 1978. There are tons more."

-James Leer, Wonder Boys (2000)

most peculiar mama

yes.

9.28.10

i think about train hopping, traveling, cities passing by in a blur of filth and steel. destinations unknown materialize with no introduction; truck-bed naps make distance nonexistent, and miles pass regardless of my desires or dreams. i'll keep that thumb out by the roadside diner, crash at some waitress's spare room, and just make it by.

america!

fiction 09.16.10

"roy will call, i swear."

my mother boarded the bus, after tossing her overloaded bag in the compartment below. i watched her leave and felt nothing.

at this point, we had been living together for a few months. my father was back in town, so she re-appeared, latching on, attempting to keep the family together. he'd show for a few days then disappear for another week with no contact; she'd be in and out of touch with him, waiting for some reassurance. while she stayed with me, she'd leave for hours, or even days at a time, and i knew she was crashing with him in some heroin den, blocking out sunlight and reality with every hit.

after three months of this behavior, i attempted an intervention, but on my own it was close to impossible. i thought, after watching the tv show of the same name, that i had the right words to say, but she was past my help. after countless rejections, i told her she had to leave my house; her actions were far too destructive and painful for me to bear.

that's what brought us to this bus station today. i'm not even sure who roy is, honestly. i think it's her drug dealer in seattle. i can't care anymore.

delorean, yeah!

unexpected approach.

one of my favorite blogs, six sentences, had this great entry today:

No, Ma'am, it's not at all an odd request that I cut your obese eight year old son's $25 steak up into bite-sized pieces before serving it to him. Sure, Sir, I'll take a picture of you pretending to take a bite of your underage girlfriend's crotch with a fork and knife, and by the way, that's very creative and funny. Nope, I don't mind at all that you place your hands on my waist and push me to the side, ever so subtly grazing your hand over my ass as you pass by. Of course, folks, you can take a picture of me to show all your friends back in Texas "the tiniest waitress you've ever seen." Yes, I do this to pay my bills. No, this wasn't quite what I was planning on doing with my degree.

-Tia Napolitano

night train tonight.

on a small black kick.

or, a small black kid.

this song gets better with every listen. also:



bikes. mark. spankrock. what else do you need, really?

she'd been going to the same restaurant for years; every monday afternoon, she'd walk down from her third floor walkup, around the block, and get a table by herself. after ordering the requisite coffee, she would pull out her brown notebook and begin to write. usually, there were many observations to be made: the aging couple in the corner always had an interesting argument, often about the kids, the cat, the garbage. it was generally commonplace, because they'd been having the same conversation for years, but it made for good type.

the bickering could go on for days, because it never had a beginning or an end. they'd been together for so long that their interactions centered on a general dissatisfaction with life; it was nothing to do with each other, really, but every disappointment that they'd ever endured was now let out on their spouse, because they knew nothing else.

there were other regulars: the ancient bearded man that sat at the counter and ordered a slice of apple pie with black coffee, the plump woman that brought in various friends to taste her favorite pastries, the after school crowd looking for donuts and handouts; she knew them all.

the personal interaction was her fuel; the server seemed flustered but friendly, so her writing centered around that woman's background: why is she waiting tables? is she in school, paying her way until graduation? is she supporting a child, paying for preschool until that deadbeat father gets his life together? is she in the middle of a twenties crisis, post grad but pre adulthood?

too deep, she thought. just wanted to write about prepubescent wayward middle school youngsters, or nonsensical septennial altercations, but this had resulted in self reflection. so it went, as a regular, because you could never separate yourself from the others that shared your space.

eventually my hair will look like a combination of these

(img src google "lou doillon)

hide yr husband

i don't care how many times you've seen this, it's priceless.

(i think i'm up to 20)

my thighs, pouring sweat, stuck to the hot leather of his passenger seat, but i couldn't imagine sitting anywhere else. we sat at the end of his cul-de-sac, nowhere to go to escape the heat, slowly smoking cigarettes and drinking vodka iced tea. i forced myself to adopt a nonchalance that belied my excitement, attempting to match his level of cool. he wore dark glasses, of course, which made it even more difficult to ascertain his thoughts, already so impossible to read.

the neon lights reminded me of a past existence, which may have been in the future; we were standing on top of a neolithic skyscraper made of bare stone. civilizations were falling around us but somehow the party went on.

"What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war."


"Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with lips. So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are. And the more you wage war."

"I felt suddenly shy. I was not used to shy. I was used to shame. Shyness is when you turn your head away from something you want. Shame is when you turn your head away from something you do not want."


-favorite quotes from extemely loud and incredibly close, by jonathan safran foer.

i think i want one of these as a pet.
(thanks signe)

boyfriend//birthday.

anti-nostalgia 8.25.10

i walked briskly through misting rain to the chapel's door. around me, couples huddled under black umbrellas, suits and heels signifying their wedding attendance. inside the foyer were countless familiar faces from years past, practically forgotten, memories gone extinct in an effort to erase certain lifestyle decisions. youth group leaders, worship team members, babysitters, "aunts and uncles", classmates, shared experiences. i said hello to a few, smiled at most, nodded at others. it was easier that way, uncomplicated. i didn't want to tell the same story fifty times. annie said, "i'm glad you're coming with me, because we're both outsiders". it's funny, because i'm one of the originals, but she's totally right. i'm not a part of that anymore.

emerging adulthood

so, it's true; we are not children, not yet adults.

"what is it about 20-somethings?"

i knew that already.

(photo- luke chrissenger, taken by yours truly.)

it was erin's birthday!

gorgeous.

airport thoughts 08.19.10

arms sore from lugging vintage luggage (who wants to be seen with a rolling suitcase?)

yes, bartender at phl chickie and pete's- i would like a beer at 12:30, and yes, i am wearing too many silly bands.

docs with shorts look amazing, but in sweltering heat feel like lead weights.

traveling makes it easy to spend money like it doesn't matter- maybe it's the discomfort of waiting, walking, waiting, sitting, walking some more; i feel like i should reward myself, or treat myself, because it's all unusual and slightly annoying. or, maybe, i buy treats because the experience is exciting.. "i'm on vacation", etc.

i can't wait to be in peaceful, beautiful new hampshire.

unknown date: found in old notebook

for my roman roommates, a stream of consciousness account of inside jokes and memories.

"so missing rome.. the tangible, painful aspect of leaving has slightly faded, though the time contrast lives on. i'm almost back to us time, finally. i wish i wasn't. i was so homesick on sunday, for arcioni... i miss the free buses, the cobblestones, the wine lady on quattro venti, tapping mac, andy but really everyone, fish n chips, even francesco, difts, scholars, no hot water, the moka, pasta every night, spicy sauce, meeting at the colosseum, the maids, acrobat protectors, smoking on the balcony, big star, marcello, whiskey coke, dance parties while getting ready, blue steel face in the bathroom mirror, losing my keys, vino, olive oil, archi bar, the studio, visiting friends, ryanair, weekend travels, dovè??, allora, prego, non ló so, maan, basta!, "i don't even care!", TAXI, "i can't get up..." "she can't get up!!!!!", "it's a video!!", groovy, street chicas, that guy you know? god?, arguing, passing out in my clothes, drunk food cooking, gauloises, not studying, waterfall in the kitchen, mary jo college nights, wine night?!?!?!, skype dates, phone cards, peroni, stella!, guinness!, nastro azzurro, italian 40's, the irish, leg humping, total eclipse of the heart, flashdance!, "i love dj's.." "i love you too!", worthful, 2007, being broke, borrowing money, passport stamps, water taxi!, "michelle's going to murder me!", "give me a break, courtney", hungry harry's, st. christophers, v&a, eiffel in the rain, eating greek food in paris, venice fish, sangria, walking for 15 years, the broken foot, ben canada, phone number tattoos, elena, the other francesco, mark, don pepe (?!?), blood red shoes, heatwaves, johny price, supermarket, nic, radio cafe, circolo degli artisti, "i fell, let's go...", "i broke my arm!!!", "keri doesn't care about me!", "you're only saying that because you know we won't!", big bang, testacchio, coyote, porta portese, the 710, 75, 44... 40N?, climbing over guardrails, the 8 tram, losing everything, getting lost, "do you like your life?", "va fancula!", not being a study major, ancient roman dinner party, "the nutcake", thanksgiving, the bird in the hat, notes on the fridge, wine in mugs, parm on everything, nutella, gelato, the trevi, that tuesday night (vino alla panteon e scalinata), JUSTICE, happy hour at finn mccool's, spilling wine in my bag/dumping it out/getting kicked off the bus, THAI!, salutè, ssseriously, hash, barbeque, the barco naumon, almost getting arrested in london, ghetto the gay club, stairs in your hair, baby romulus, yawn, antoinella: "scandalous!" "my students want to see me naked!", naked spanish man cannonball, sleepovers, zoo bar, sleeping on the beach, squid ink paella, tapas, street performers, two pound pints, that meat shop with sandwiches, the coffee machine, going low, "look in the mirror! you're an embarrassment!", carrying around sugar, piazza venezia, corso, san lorenzo, trastevere, sitting at the bar and not drinking, the secret orange garden, tiber island, being sharked, transit strikes, termini, fiumicino, ciampino, "how are we going to get a taxi if we're walking on the sidewalk?", "justyne, why are you dancing like that?" "i'm too drunk", 'crowdsurfing', gropey guys, red bull vodka, circolo's gardens, "my friend here is in love with you", "i have to go, my girlfriend is going to see us", leather jackets, "compliment for american student!", thai steps, big star steps, audrey graffiti, cig machines, night buses, the pyramid, circus maximus, catacombs, the vatican, "did you meet the pope?", scented rosaries, gypsies, the roman forum, on the rox/going in the men's/breaking a glass/getting sick, the infamous courtney night, big star strength drinks, boxed wine, jameson tasting/graduating whiskey school, il bar, la trattoria, corneto, CONTROL: "well, you know what ian curtis did before he left for america", "but christmas time is supposed to be a happy time!", overdrawn bank accounts, end of the golden age, villa pamphili, carini, fratelli bonnet, dirty kitchen, borrowing milk, first class flights/mimosas/socks!, broken shoe heel, carrying/being carried home, beer for the road, mtv italia, alluc, arcioni 3: the band photoshoot, "i feel like i'm not even here", tiny elevators, buzzing up, ciao bella!, that lady on the first floor, leaks downstairs, leaving the gas on, eggies, dove pizza?, the flowerpot at scholars, 24 shots, car bombs, phillies games, singalongs, that bartender, "there's a hole in my shoe!", "do you really enjoy this torture?", "I FEEL TRAPPED", "i'm going to have to follow you around!", drip drying, 5:09?, roman holiday, ikea trip.. psyche, breaking all the dishes, taking bar glasses, drying laundry on the furniture, vibrating washer, screaming, laughing constantly, not sending postcards, damè cinque, mental breakdowns, all day hangovers, cold floors, hair burning, flavian curls, bidet hair washer?, the philly visit, the british girls, grandma dovè, ciao ragazze, ti amo, there's poetry in a guinness, some people prefer jameson, drew wheeler, "liar!", canadese, capitoline museums, cinadus=girly man, the overlook, the taxi to nowhere, "that dude looks like my grandmother", when in rome, "i love taxis", make up/break up/dress up, italian class trip to the club, getting the flu, la farmacia, sidis, jus running out of circolo, riding the tide, remember when...., annika, bad news, "it was like my ipod shuffle", not going to milan or brussels or florence, wine tour, tuscany, cinderella wine, homemade pasta, the italian george clooney, broken bus, anxiety, "why are we walking? we could be sitting at home instead!!!", AS ROMA, RIP my black clutch/grey scarf/ wallet/ mirror/ single earring/ court's umbrella/ my umbrella/ blue sweater, oil and vinegar, panini, cappucini, crik-crok, snack friends, chips in london, "world famous", mapsen, not going to campo, notte bianca, "skip the trevi, have a bevy", bus a metano, vittorio emanuelle, no bagels in the jewish ghetto, superbad, "fidi, they're craaaazy", "brendan, i love youuuuu", "remember when we knocked this down?", "i don't want you to leave, i don't want you to leave", limoncello shots, the lazy susan table, glass noodles, cucumbers & peanut sauce, fights at coyote, "over the rainbow, so high", tiziano ferro, centerfuse in the big star bathroom, "i want to be able to stand up tonight", marco, ideal bar, flower stands on the street, sidewalk gas stations, smart cars, no stopping at red lights, vespa rides....."

Repost: Written October 15, 2006

Summer. Dartmouth Co-op. Mainly just Dan and I.

"This guy, ok, he's visiting all the Ivy leagues- trying to at least. He asks us where they all are. Whoa, ok, we don't really know. There's a scuffle over where exactly Penn was- yeah, I got it wrong. Lame, considering it ends up being in Philly, where I go to school. So here we are afterwards, like, way to not know where they all are. I pull out a sharpie and a scrap of paper, you know, neatly write down the Ivies and their locations. One twist though- after Dartmouth I write Hanover, VT.
See, there's this kid at work, Dartmouth student, real smart. Intellectual and all that. Great guy, really, but he's got more than a touch of the Dartmouth elitist attitude. So here I am with Hanover, VT. Thought the guy would see it up on the tack board, mention it, you know, 'Hey, who wrote this? You got the Dartmouth location wrong!" It wasn't going to be a big deal- I'd say I made a mistake or something, small joke, ('Oops! Oh, that's right, NH') and move on. Maybe tops we'd game him for a little bit, I could be be a little more confused, who knows. Small time stuff only.

The plan changes when this kid notices the sign. I happen to be off work this day and my buddy Dan's working. They're upstairs when this kid's like, 'Whaaaat? Dartmouth, Vermont? Does she realize she got it wrong?' Dan rolls with it, you know, 'Yeah, I don't think she knows. I didn't want to tell her when she was making the sign- you should ask her about it.' Perfect.

So there I am, next time I'm working with the kid, he brings it up. 'Keri, did you realize you messed up on your list of the Ivy Leagues?' He's smiling, thinks it's a joke. Oh no, man. I'm like, 'What? Which one? I thought I double-checked them all.' Still smiling. 'Actually, Dartmouth is wrong. You said it's in Vermont.' Here's where it gets good. I act completely straight, Dan too. Oh, no, it's in Vermont. Sure, yeah, Lebanon's in New Hampshire, but Hanover's Vermont. You know, with Norwich, cause they all go to the same high school. I mean, we're right next to New Hampshire, sure. I know I don't LIVE in Vermont, that's crazy.

Dan pulls the "Yeah, I know where we are but it's not really that crazy that she's confused. I mean, Vermont is RIGHT THERE, you know?"
Oh, lord, he argues. He pulls out a map, shows me the Connecticut River, how it separates the states. Points out the tee shirts we sell that say Hanover, NH. ('Oh, I never noticed that!') He's so incredulous- stunned, really. 'But you've lived in this area your whole life? Your parents went here? How can you not know? This must be SUCH a shock to you.'

I get so confused, defensive, embarrassed. All 'I can't even handle this. How could I have not realized?', while Dan's still, 'Keri, it's ok. I mean, Vermont is RIGHT THERE. Don't feel so bad about it.' I pull down the sign- guess I have to change it, huh. Wow, and I double-checked all the schools and everything.

Customers are listening to the whole thing. One guy's like, 'She's lived here her whole life?' Then to me, 'Haven't you ever written a LETTER?' I say something like, oh, no, I've never lived in Hanover. I know I live in New Hampshire.

Ok, so after ages of this, the kid gets off work and goes downstairs. Dan and I FLIP. I'm laughing so hard I tear up- really can't believe what just happened. Jared comes upstairs- he just missed it. We're talking over one another, stumbling over words, "It was AMAZING! Completely BRILLIANT!! We were so straight, playing off one another, he fell for it, what just happened? Oh my god." Jared's like, "Oh MAN, I know, he came downstairs and was all, 'Keri must be in such shock right now. She just found out that Hanover's not in Vermont. She seriously believed it was. And she's lived here her whole life!'"

All right, out of control. He'll never know we were gaming him cause he'll blatantly think I'm trying to cover up for my stupidity. Sick, right?
"

fictionalized true story

repost: written november 3, 2006

"all the world's a stage (dive)"

opening night. empty stomach. nerves. late.

makeup. half of costume.
jokes. banter. rehearsal.

"on in five"
red bull. rest of costume. second red bull. nerves. music.

backstage. darkness. stumble.

lights. line line dance line laugh line. off.
tiptoe. relax.

banter. tales. adventures.
intermission.

breathe. change. empty stomach. nerves.
cold wind. shaky.

backstage. glass in hand. on!

laugh laugh flirt line smile line frown. leave indignantly.

over. breathe. greet. clean. collapse.

throwback- found recently from abandoned myspace blog

"scene:
backed up taillights extending into the dark. closer now, flashing lights. closer still: the car, driver's windshield smashed into the vehicle, the surrounding shards of glass flashing in response. there- a black hat, stranded in the middle of the intersection. i walk by it, close, too close. and there- a solitary red sneaker much farther down the road, by the wreck of a car. it holds my gaze in a magnetic pull of disbelief. that sneaker. punctuation at the end of a story. a question mark perhaps. ellipses? there may be a continuation. at the moment, though, it's a period stopping an incomplete sentence. abrupt, final. my chest tightens and i fight the urge to stop movement in an attempt to stifle all other emotion. my coping mechanism changes and i walk as fast as possible down the sidewalk away, until even my peripheral vision can't see the lights."

i wrote this in december 2006. i can still picture every aspect of this horrifying accident.

AHH STOP IT

post acid

throwback/updated.

shades of blink 182. i just wanna be this young forever.

i wish my hair wasn't too damaged to do this.

I LOVE THIS

white hinterland.

million young.

getting birthday stoked. this is real dumb/cute.

yarnbombz

vena cava

Seyðisfjörður

via yvan rodic. i don't know if this is just for a fashion shoot, but whatever- it's amazing

major clothing inspiration- late summer early fall

you have friends and you know it

7.29.10

i've always moved slowly, appreciated the simple things- the negative side of these personality traits is procrastination and distraction, as highlighted when i begin to clean a room. i start first energetically, loud music keeping spirits high, and quickly clear a quarter of the space, piling clothes in one corner, books and magazines stacked neatly. soon, though, i'll find an old scrap of paper, thoughts jotted down, and stop to read or tack on additional ruminations. maybe the song playing will remind me of another i want to hear, but wait! it's missing from my library, and must instantly be downloaded. maybe i'll start to put an old picture in its proper storage spot and become enthralled by a collection of junior high memories, miniature polaroids of girlish sleepovers and sun swept hair by the pool. there's always the possibility that i'll find a favorite dress that has been long out of commission because of a simple flaw; stains and rips are easily fixed, i'll think, and begin a corrective project that soon turns into a three hour complication. these things happen, inevitably, and will always be so.

No girl ever got anywhere with messy hair, staying in bed until noon. No girl ever got anywhere with dreams in her head and a boy in her bed; gin, coffee, cigarette porch; duvet curls and unwashed towels; half-read books, unpaid parking tickets, a full jar of vitamins. The best intentions...

-so much to tell you

i wish this was mine.

woodland dreamgirl

via souvenirs

beautiful reincarnation

spitting it concrete like the golden sun god WU LYF

perfume genius.

more here.

\\fenech-soler//

small town brit boys bring some slick electro pop to the floor.

candy claws

"pop aquatic"- pitchfork

7.26.10

idea from henry rollins:

failed suicide, hospital bed, bandaged wrists or neck lined with purple; notes, cards, flowers: "you can do it", "don't give up", "nice try, better luck next time".

also, both rollins and kerouac are preoccupied with the lack of difference between animal and human death; rollins insists that all crimes are created equal, while kerouac damns himself for killing a mouse, calling himself "dirty murdering human being". in terms of karma, they are one and the same, despite differences in social repercussions. i feel no less for animal suffering than that of humans and cannot stress enough the peace i feel because i am not a participant in industry brutality.

cacti

synchronized choreography on wheels

ariel had a photo collage of leonardo dicaprio on her bedroom wall, which she kissed daily. i didn't understand the practice, or the attraction. jonathan taylor thomas, on the other hand, was dreamy enough to swim through my thoughts on the reg. we would sit on her lower bunk, my sister and i, and revel in her tales of sixth grade public school, boys, silly girl drama. she passed on hand-me-downs, purple pleather mini skirts and halter tops, which we weren't allowed to wear out of the house but kept for years, playing tween skank dress-up. ariel's the one who stripped down her ken and barbie to the nude, "sixty-nining" them, to my confusion. why would anyone purposely put their face down there? that's not the way babies are made!

we'd guiltily watch banned tv shows, like simpsons, are you afraid of the dark, and saved by the bell, eating gushers and drinking orbitz. ariel always had fun food. my house had responsible snacks: pretzels and peanut butter, ants on a log, carrot sticks and cheddar cheese on saltines. we'd eagerly bike over to her house in our one-piece speedos right when she got home from school, sometimes slyly changing into one of her bikinis for maximum tanning action. her pool was a focal point of our summers, when we weren't biking up and down estabrook circle, a quiet street lined with tiny houses.

i knew almost all my neighbors, though there were few children. jess lived in the big house away from the street; she was a few years younger, but a trampoline in her backyard warranted instant neighborhood popularity. she had things like spice world on cassette and frozen pizzas that also made her house worth visiting, though i was scared of her older brothers, especially when they'd double bounce us, way too high. i found out in recent years that though we were jealous of her freedom as raised by a single mom, she found our family intriguing and welcoming. she wrote in a high school essay about our family dinners, six of us around the living room table, bowed heads and thanks before the meal. the fact that we invited her into this tradition night after night meant more than i ever realized.

clearly, my standout neighbor memories are of the foolish, the trivial; flashes of celebrities and pop culture that were experienced outside my home. of course, i could tell countless stories of home-schooled country fun, playing house, writing plays, building forts, and swimming in lakes. those times have run together, but at some point maybe i'll be able to catalogue them and do them proper justice. another time...

things that i like

real/fake?

(1/3 cosmic dust, 2 personal)

vocal aerobics.

7.21.10

i could easily have stayed there, in air-conditioned comfort, reading of solitary anarchist anger, but the cats were calling my name. i packed up bags of sandy sneakers and torn jean shorts, beach-read books barely fitting in the backpack, and walked out into the heat. my bangs, already sweaty, stuck to my forehead and my glasses slid down my nose with each step. thrift-new sneakers, though pre-worn, still had yet to be molded to my feet. my bookbag straps dug into burned and peeling shoulders; little red lines betrayed the injury. i paused the journey (after five minutes) by stopping in the corner shop for, yes, herr's + heinz ketchup flavored ripple chips. new low? the red 40 dust covering my fingers screamed junk fix. i think it's time to stop eating artificial flavoring.

7.14.10

i'm having a really hard time writing more than two paragraphs before i despise what i've written. i'm giving it a rest. i think late nights/sun exposure is slightly frying my brain.

this wuz my salty beach hair.

7.8.10

goal: this as my vision of summer

6.30.10

summer thoughts:

i appreciate the general acceptability of wearing crop tops and booty shorts as of late. it's hot, people. as i have no cleavage to speak of, bra tops really aren't that scandalous and i'm so ready to air out the midriff after months of hunching over to ward away the cold.

speaking of midriffs, i've come to realize the line between good taste and bad taste is extremely thin. i'm sure many would think i've crossed the line; this may be true, but my level of caring about that opinion also decreases with the rising mercury.

resolutions for the coming months:

more beach time. the single visit last summer, though appreciated, was hardly enough to satiate my surf appetite. i've been twice so far and plan on making that a regular occurrence. let's synch our schedules! i've got a weird work week, so it's tough, but i'm down to shuffle shifts.

less sleeping. this is a tough one, but i'm sick of wasting mornings pressing snooze. i'm awesome at sustaining five hours a night, but with no early morning commitments my self control goes way down. let's make morning plans- i'll break out the helicopter alarm again and force my sunburned ass outta bed.

basically, i want the most out of summer. give it to me hard and fast babygirl.

if only finn and coco were pals.

home.

words of widsom from a talented writer

"The difference between successful and unsuccessful people is that the first kind gain momentum from boredom and the second kind don’t!"

-Magic Molly

This is so applicable, and relevant, as I use my free time blog surfing.

still can't say she won't start up a fight

rediscovering.

i'm trying to turn on my brain again. it's been so long since i've created something satisfactory.

i basically talk a lot of game and leave things unfinished. here's to reaching completion.

diluted tribal motif

phyllis galembo

-From her 2007 exhibition at the Tang Museum at Skidmore.
It featured "large-scale color photographs from 2005 to 2006 reflect[ing] the ritual adornment and spirituality of masquerade in Nigeria, Benin and Burkina Faso in West Africa." (Tang)

via but does it float

wildflowers

-intelligent clashing

future primitive

i'm trying my best to make this a lesson in wisdom, in love, in appreciation and contentment.

if only it didn't take tragedy to raise such awareness and community support.

for sabina.

sleepover

sunny morning disco lips

tangled perspective

more from harmony

shell like breathing patterns

this is great

doodle here

just listen

it's bliss

tell me when you want to leave

that male cat urination smell sinks into the foundation of the house, irreversible, the heat only perpetuating the horror. i don't have a fan in my room, although there's a box at the top of the stairs that says "9 inch personal fan" and every time i'm walking up those steep stairs i think, "i'm your biggest fan". it might be occupied by that very object. i've never checked.

...

now, hours later, i'm schweating from too many bodies packed on a small dance floor. this room/that place is oppressive. i might just unpack the ancient fan; blow some perspective onto this situation. lord knows that's fully needed.

snack attack

cruisin' for a bruisin'

creature comforts

rejecting the bottle's call

future dreams

via weird friends and cosmic dust