Thursday, July 29, 2010
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.
Posted by Keri Hope at 2:51 PM
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...
i wish this was mine.
Posted by Keri Hope at 2:46 PM
Posted by Keri Hope at 2:15 PM
Monday, July 26, 2010
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.
Posted by Keri Hope at 10:33 AM
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
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...
Posted by Keri Hope at 4:50 PM
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.
Posted by Keri Hope at 2:04 PM