like a sandwich on a checkerboard [entries|heathens|records]
future kitsch

[ website | jerkspace ]
[ userinfo | a delicate balance ]
[ calendar | all my past and futures ]

happenings in the bodleian [27 Feb 2009|01:33pm]
i am totally in the same building as the prime minister of england. and i am totally not getting any work done. obviously.

also, there are dudes in suits wandering around the library and monitoring things. kind of awesome/awkward/intriguing. i wonder if they'll write my essay for me?
[ 2 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

a scenic world indeed [19 Feb 2009|04:46pm]
[ mood | alive ]

today has been the best day i have had in recent memory. while this may be a result of my sleeping until 1pm after not having slept more than.. six or so hours in the prior two days, it has also been genuinely awesome. for some reason today has felt as if the various shards of my chaotic life have fallen together neatly and formed a stained-glass window. i am sure that soon enough there will be a metaphorical baseball thrown by the next door neighbor's child crashing through my stained-glass self but, hey, i will enjoy it while it lasts and hope that kid manages to miss my window and just hit the nearby clapboards.

so, i woke up late, took a shower, and listened to music in my (clean!) room. it's rather sunny out, as far as england goes, and i danced around with the window slightly open since it's actually a tiny bit warm out today. uplifting, really. cycled into town to meet up with a new friend who is very smart, talked about logic in a little coffeeshop on the second floor of the covered market. was reminded that i do not know everything -- but, i enjoy when that happens since i readily admit to not knowing everything, and will settle for trying to know everything (and by everything i mean a whole lot of crap, not 'everything', etc), eventually.

post-coffee, i sat and ate a sandwich on the steps of the bodleian with the slanting afternoon light falling on the king's arms (good place). i passed through groups of tourists laughing and taking pictures while walking towards the entrance of the library. honestly, as much as i bitch about tourists, sometimes when i see them frolicking around and commenting on how beautiful everything is here it reminds me that, hey, hey hey i live in an amazing place and have kind of an amazing life. and i should enjoy it.

now i am in the upper reading room of the bodleian in my FAVORITE seat, next to the t.s. eliot section with a direct view of the radcliffe camera to the front and the spires of all souls' to my left. words really cannot express my love for oxford, but there's a feeling this place gives me that i get nowhere else. i love it here. for the rest of my life, long after the memory of all my tutorial-induced stress has faded, i will be able to see as clear as day my view of the radcliffe camera through the upper reading room window.

for a few hours i'll be working on paradigm economy in latin declensions and conjugations and, while that may seem tragically and horrifically boring to most (if not all), i love this jam. latin is my best friend. in a few hours i am going with a friend to a messiaen concert of the turangalila-symphonie featuring an ONDES MARTENOT in the sheldonian. i can't really be bothered to go on and on about how amazing it is that i get to actually see someone playing an ondes martenot so here is a video instead:


there is yet another reason why i am happy but as i am uncertain of whether said reason reads this dumb journal of mine i will keep mum. suffice it to say, i am content. however, and this may only make sense to me, it is remarkable that i, of my own volition and of my own experience, am so happy about today and the current state of my life that at this very moment i feel i could emit sunshine from my damned pores; i feel so happy i could cry. may this feeling last?

[ 1 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

today has been a very strange day. [13 Oct 2008|07:05pm]
[ mood | tired ]

i. The Vagrant: Halfway up the High Street (Oxford, United Kingdom, oh ho ho), I run into a certain Peter, who is a very good dude friend (platonic), who asks me to go to lunch in the dining hall with him so he won't be alone and surrounded by eighteen year olds. I agree, and we walk all the way back down the High Street and I eat some soup and get sticky crap on my hands. Damned dining hall. We walk back, I am nervous about being late for my first lecture here, and Peter is a nerd. We also nearly get hit by a LORRY (har har those Brits).

ii. DUNCAN: Ten or so blocks away from my lecture (in the Linguistics Centre), I see the man who is the touring technician for JONNY GREENWOOD (RADIOHEAD, WAT) getting off a bus. For those of you just tuning in, radiohead is my favorite band and I have seen them approximately 47 million times so I can pick this dude out from afar. Also, he is very tall and has many piercings and long back (EDIT: BLACK not BACK. EW) hair. But, that's besides the point. We chat, and it turns out he lives not far from me out in East Oxford. Ridiculous. He says he hangs out at a pub near my house sometimes, and he'll be around in November so we might see each other then. I'm pretty sure this is the most amazing thing that could have happened on my FERST DAY OV SKOOL aside from meeting an actual member of radiohead (which has also happened here). Strange.

iii. Le Doom: I go to use an ATM, I tell it I would like to converse in English (so polite these machines are) and it promptly begins its rapport with me en Francais. Well. I can read French, so I keep on going with this jam, and ask it for fifty pounds, until it gets stuck upon asking me for a receipt. At this point, I just want my damned card back so I press some buttons and, thankfully, the bastard machine spits my card back out. It also spits out 200 pounds. DO NOT WANT. So, now I have enough cash to last me many moons, and I have learned never to trust a French-speaking cashpoint.

iv. The Swan: Going out for dinner with Alicia my Welsh zoologist lady friend (obviously) (also platonic), I order a pizza which I end up not finishing. I ask if there is any way I could take about half the pizza home with me (I know, so very American), and the waiter goes off to wrap it up in some tinfoil. He reappears, holding a pizza wrapped up in the shape of a swan that had just consumed half a pizza. Like, imagine if a python had just eaten a small child and you could see the outline of the child in the python? Yeah, it's like that except with half a pizza in a tinfoil swan.

WHOA OXFORD HOLY CRAP
also: i am living in the same room as before, now with more unidentifiable carpet stains.
also also: i will be rowing tomorrow. yes, that is correct, i am going to try to row. except i hate mornings and blisters. shit.

[ 2 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

the town sing-along [25 May 2008|01:41am]
[ mood | drunk ]

durante mi vida, lo que yo hare?
pendant ma vie, qu'est-ce que je ferais?
in mea vita, quid ego faciam?

o1. i taught my last class of the year today.
o2. i love you.
o3. i am spread too thin.

[ sit and chat ]

lignum vitae [11 Apr 2008|02:05am]
o0. infancy, home
dark panelling and brown and yellow flowers between crib bars. inability to distinguish shapes clearly. an emotion, not a shape at all.
o1. age 5, cheverus school
my dragging fingers trace down the hallway single file. characters on high, a through z, alpha through omega, all above the chalkboard and above the wooden trim.
o2. age 13, cheverus school
with the windows open the coffee smell drifts in, the green tree branches always grow diagonally. the world is framed in mahogany, the boughs are reaching to meet me.
o3. adolescence, home
safest when closed, panelled and shut. doors and eyelids.
o4. age 18, bryn mawr college
looking upward into green branches, different frames. tripartite. boughs still reaching. reaching, but not as far.
o5. age 20, oxford university
the seats of bishops, the seats of scholars. forever before forever after. without me, with me, without me.
o6. age 22, bryn mawr college
arched, solid-looking, but with structural weaknesses. (i imagine) a shaft of light slanting through a crack when i spoke.
o7. age 24, present
symbolized in knowledge. the intelligence of the iris. in the arms of mahogany, falling asleep.
[ sit and chat ]

I loved that damned earring. [25 Mar 2008|09:09pm]
[ mood | EXASPERATED ]

So, I am in the habit of losing my earrings. Always. I think I have, at most, four pairs of earrings that are still actual pairs. The rest have been lost to the gods of the winds, the river Lethe, and that deity that eats all your socks and probably lives underneath your damned dryer. Anyways, I think I've finally lost my mind over it. About two weeks ago, I bought some terrific damned earrings in Spain (Barcelona), and have already lost that pair. Now, I discovered ONE earring -- silver, arrow-shaped, purchased at H&M -- in my dryer. ONE. GodDAMNIT I loved those things. I found the one earring and proceeded to do an angry jig around my apartment. I didn't even know I could jig angrily, but I can do it damned proficiently, if I say so myself. Shit.

I think the state of despondency that I am in over the mass grave of my lost earrings symbolizes the fact that I lose EVERYTHING, and it's just a problem. Seriously, I haven't even done my taxes yet because I can't find my damned W2s. PROBLEM. What am I going to do with myself? I have been trying to organize my life since birth. I guess I will just keep trying. And failing. Now I'm going to spend tomorrow calling up H&Ms throughout Northeast America to try to find another pair because, damnit, I'm not going to let this keep happening to me! I'm losing my damned mind. And I want that damned earring back. Shit.

In other news: HILARIOUS NEWS STORY OF THE DAY (completely unrelated to earring dilemma, thankfully)

BULLET BOUNCES OFF CHEF PAUL PRUDHOMME

Yeah. I just remember him being so big'n'Cajun that he would ride around his kitchen in a Jazzy Scooter while frying up some Catfish Donuts or something. Well, perhaps the Jazzy Scooter was an invention of my imagination. But, apparently, he is IMPERMEABLE TO BULLETS. Way to go, Prudhomme. You may not be able to see your feet, but you are evidently IMMORTAL. Keep on livin' the diabetic's dream, my large friend.
[ sit and chat ]

video quid ibi fecisti. [22 Mar 2008|10:54am]
[ mood | ambiguous ]

augh, saturday morning classes. oh, how you are the bane of my existence. however, i taught an AP latin poetry class today and it felt quite nice to discuss poetic elements and allegory again. all the grammar of teaching latin II becomes rather dull after a while. thank you, catullus, for reminding me that i still like latin. also, i feel as if explaining the fine points of an obfuscated poem brings me far more gratification in terms of illuminating the minds of my students rather than, say, explaining the difference between purpose and result clauses. but they're both equally important, probably, so.. whatever. yeah, i like poetry. bring it.

as i was walking up to the main hall of my school this morning, i saw someone pull right up to the front steps to drop off a student. it reminded me of all the times my father would drop me off in front of AC, usually right as the bell was ringing. i never wanted to get my driver's license, and i said it was because i lived so close to the city that it was unnecessary. really, though, i just didn't want my father to stop dropping me off at school. and i didn't want to lose that twenty minute car ride. he worked so much, and he was always so tired because my mother usually spent half the night yelling or drunkenly cursing at him, but he was always cheery and awake in the morning when i was tired and grumbly and trying to study since she had been yelling or drunkenly cursing at me, too. i mean, she still does the same crap to him and he's still cheery and positive, but i think his outlook may be waning now, and i wish i could do something about it. there were times in autumn when border road was all reds and golds and the mystic river sparkled in the sun, and i'm sure he was thinking about how he'd skip school to drive his boat there years ago, about how happy he was then. man, i wish he were still that happy now. now, i think, when he drives down that road, looking out the window, the memories are layered so that i'm sitting in the car next to him while, beyond me, he's waterskiing with his friends from high school on the water sparkling in the sun. time's funny that way. memory's funny that way.

that didn't start out as being that depressing, jesus! the moral of the story is that my dad is awesome, and i wish his life were awesome too. right now he's having money issues, and job issues, and the same old he's married to a wackjob issues, and it just sucks. and i don't know what to do to make it better, or if i can do anything at all. and i miss him, of course, since he is my BFF. sigh.

in other, non-depressing news: i want to go to making time tonight, and the zombie crawl tomorrow. i don't know if either of these things will happen, because my friends are lame. making time i can live without, since we're probably going to end up getting lazaro's (the pizza of the gods) and beer. but.. zombie crawl! ZOMBIES. if anyone is interested in either of these events, let me know.

also: i miss spain. boo.

[ 5 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

i didn´t cry as much this time, but i shed a tear [08 Mar 2008|08:08pm]
I GOT INTO OXFORD HOLY CRAP.

(okay now my eyes are moist again, whatever i love oxford)

master´s in linguistics.


whoa.

also i am in barcelona, but devon and i are sad because we don´t have any more irish boys to hang out with/drink ourselves into oblivion with. dangling prepositions.

HOLY SHIT. holy shit oxford. i am so excited. especially since i´m in europe now and i´m all sad about how i miss living in europe and whoaaaa now i get to go back. this is amazing. the only thing that is not amazing is the relationship situation but we will deal with that later.

OH and today i saw GUERNICA. fucking guernica! GUERNICA EXISTE, LO HE VISTO! today has been one of the best days ever, probably. man. life is good. and in a bit i am going to go party it up in barcelona (without going bankrupt hopefully). life is so, so good. man.
[ 4 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

[08 Mar 2008|01:50am]
i am in my hostel bar, drinking VATS of sangria, and there is a fucking AWESOME band (named chocolatinos, haha witty ha. ha. bah.) playing some spanish music and this is GREAT. i want my life to be like this ALL THE TIME.

i met some awesome irish guys, and i want to be BFFs with them forever. devon and i are pretty much having the best time to ever be had. and barcelona tomorrow!

dancin'time!
[ sit and chat ]

MADRID [05 Mar 2008|08:56pm]
currently: madrid. bar in basement of hostel. three euro fifty for VAT OF SANGRIA. VAT. drunk (well, not now but inevitably soon). going to go to club owned by javier bardem. WHAT?! that is crazy. i have a new camera (nikon D40 for those who are interested) and it is AMAAAAAAAziing. love. also, madrid is awesome. and devon and i got MAOZ in madrid so now i can say that i am an international appreciator of maoz. mm falafel.

in other (bad/stupid/WHAT) news, my dumbass jerk of a boyfriend shaved his beard into a LEMMY (a la motorhead, googleimage that shit if you don't know), and i am going to kill him when i get back to philadelphia. murder.
[ 3 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

Sometimes, being a teacher is wonderful. [15 Feb 2008|12:01pm]
For example, when you are having your students work on their end of term project and get to spend an entire class dicking around on the internet while they do research. Hurrah, education! Actually,they really are working so I'm glad I'm giving them some extra time, but I still feel as if I should be doing something else? I think being on the internets always gives me the sense that I should be doing something more worthwhile with my time. Oh well.

So, I am going to Spain with Devon from March 3rd-13th. I bought my ticket a few days ago, and now I have no money to live on for... until I go to Spain. Wonderful. But, it should be fun. Hopefully I'll manage to pay off my credit card enough to .. be able to use it more while in Spain. Oh dear. Debt here I come! Deeper! Wargh. Anyways, we'll be in Madrid for about five days, and Barcelona for about five days. The only problem may be that Devon, I believe, plans on having funds available to, y'know, eat meals and such, while I plan on having the funds to eat a banana and trail mix for ten days because I am pobre, pobre, pobre.

Well, shit.

For Valentine's Day, I got a jumbo cheese pizza from Lazaro's and had them make a heart on it with mushrooms. I am convinced that this was the best idea I have ever had. And by best I also mean most delicious. The guys at Lazaro's (who know me very, very well by now) were laughing more than I have ever seen them laugh before.
Guys at Lazaro's with Thick Unidentifiable Accents: (GaLTUAs): "It would have been so much better if you for to let us make heart with pepperoni and not mushroom!"
Me: "Well, the boyfriend is vegetarian. But, regardless, this is the BEST THING I have ever seen in my ENTIRE LIFE."
Guy Behind Me Drunk and Alone on Valentine's Day with Order to Go: (GBMDAVDOG): "That is the biggest fucking pizza I have ever seen."

Message on the box:
"Because my love for you is greater than 10,000 jumbos."

Yeah.
[ 2 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

robble robble robble [04 Feb 2008|09:45pm]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

So, in the past decade or more of my life, I have not thought about the Hamburglar. Have you, good readers, ever stopped to think about the fate of that hamburger-snatching, prison-garb-wearing bandito? Doubtful. He probably garnered about as much thought as did Birdie or those really large, realistic looking nuggets (nee: McNugget Buddies) that I always ended up salivating over because, seriously, who wouldn't want to eat a chicken (seitan?) nugget the size of a small toddler?

Anyways, in a PBR-induced fit of boredom Friday night, myself and some boyzzz decided to look up the goods on wikipedia. With wikipedia being, as everyone knows, a neverending font of hilarity for the drunkenly bored. So, we find the page on Mcdonaldland and begin to reminisce about the good old days beneath the Golden Arches, or something like that. I vaguely remember the old Mcdonald's play areas that I used to wreak havoc in when I was a little kid, and upon looking at that page I realize that, in my youth, I definitely rode a bouncing Fry Kid. That sounds horrible! Great. Apple pie trees, little buggy-eyed hamburgers? A world where burgers grow in patches? Right. Awesome.

Highlights:
+ Grimace used to be the Evil Grimace. So, does that mean he used to actually grimace, rather than walk around with that dumbass smile on his face all the time? Also, he used to have four arms, which pretty much makes him the McDonald's-issue Hindi god of burger-snatching, which in and of itself is full of blasphemy.
+ Re: The Hamburglar: "Originally, his vocabulary consisted of nothing other than 'Robble, robble, robble.' His vocabulary has been expanded; he later was shown speaking ordinary English, though he continued to use 'robble robble' to occasionally punctuate his speech." WHAT? I do not remember this whatsoever. My world was changed. And you better believe that I am reintroducing robble robble robble into the common vernacular.
+ Grimace had an uncle. Grimace's uncle was named UNCLE O'GRIMACEY. Guess which color Uncle O'Grimacey was? Right, right. Right. He carried a shillelagh! And there was a Shamrock Shake!? What's wrong with you, McDonald's?! There better have been Bailey's and Jameson in that damned shake. McDonald's gets a lot of undeserved shit for having a McRib sandwich, but, really, they deserve a whole lot more shit for this Shamrock Shake, here.

Great use of a Friday night, I know. But, so, here's where the important shit happens. Saturday night, I am hanging out with the hipsters of Doylestown, Pennsylvania (all four of them). Completely different set of jerks than the night before. Anyways, we are hanging out in some old hipster farmhouse, obviously, and this kid Dan in a glittery-dollar-sign straight-brimmed hipster-hat starts joking about how Dickie should watch out or he's going to steal one of his guitars ROBBLE ROBBLE ROBBLE. Like, out of the fucking blue, he yelled ROBBLE ROBBLE ROBBLE. I fell over and died.

And that, friends, is how the Hamburglar stole my sanity. I leave you with this:

[ 7 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

reve doux [31 Jan 2008|09:23pm]
[ mood | kerouac-y ]

i am going to ride my bike across the country this summer. perhaps across and back, as yet to be finalized. i'll already be going from NJ to DC in june on a school trip i am co-chaperoning, but that's only about 270 miles out of oh, say, 1600. dickie is coming with me, so he says (cross-country, not to DC). we are trying to organize other people to go with us, and we're probably going to try to document it and maybe (maybe maybe hopefully) raise some funds. and by raising funds, i mean a minimal amount to cover food and shit with the rest going to a green/sustainability/environmental organization yet to be chosen. maybe even some urban initiative, bike-lane creating, recreational happy people program.

anyways, the reason this came about was because, well, i want to ride my bike across the country. i am still debating whether it is a wise idea to do this on a single speed (i am thinking it is a very, very stupid idea); but, even if it is a very stupid idea, i am hoping it is still a feasible idea. the other reason this came about is because i realized how absolutely, horrifically terrible it is to have to depend on a car. and, yes, i have to depend on a car because new jersey is IMPOSSIBLE to navigate on a bicycle. there are no bike lanes, drivers are entirely unaccustomed to cyclists on the road -- there aren't even sidewalks in most places, no matter goddamned bike lanes! people don't even walk around here, so cycling is fairly out of the question. suburban dependency upon automobiles is out of control. also, urban cycling is not a walk amongst the sun-kissed clouds, either. with a majority of the people i love having been struck and maimed by vehicles, i think it's okay to say that riding in the city ain't too damn safe either.

i know it's not something that can be easily resolved, but.. that's why i want to do something. i may be a young idealistic idiot but, well, sometimes young idealistic idiots need to do novel things other than drink PBR in dark bars. and i'm not talking about critical mass, either. because, seriously, what does that shit even do besides irritate the drivers in their idling automobiles and nearly get me beat up by fat black ladies who try to run me over every month (okay, so that was only one time, but still)?

when i was in switzerland, everyone had a damned bicycle. these people would commute through the ALPS. the ALPS! yo, americans, if the swiss can ride up thirty percent grades on a daily basis to go buy some fresh emmenthaler in the next town over, you can cycle/walk/rollerblade/cross-countryski to the grocery store two blocks away to get your cheetos. (excuse that bout of preachiness, please). although riding to the grocery store is far less exciting than riding through the alps (true story), such is life. and, oxford? more bikes than books, i swear. and someday, honest to jeebus, i am going to ride my bike around the arc de triomphe. i will probably die, but i will go out in a two-wheeled blaze of glory. i hope i am struck by a peugeot. i mean, they used to make really wonderful bicycles so i guess their cars should have the first go at striking me down dead in my hypothetical parisian hit and run. also, i don't mean to be all EVERYONE MUST RIDE A BIKE ARGH, i rather want to be EVERYONE NEEDS TO GET OUT OF THEIR CARS ARGH.

i think all of this was instigated by the fact that I HATE LIVING IN NEW JERSEY. damn you suburbs. i never thought i was some crazy bike riding tree hugging hippie, but maybe i am after all. i swear i'll never wear organic deodorant though. especially when riding a bike across the country in august, because the world does not deserve such olfactory torment. if any good comes out of my having sacrificed nearly a year of my life to car-based, picket-fenced, false american dream suburban living, may this far-fetched wackjob journey be it.

some book i read by some good dude said something about not being able to run away from yourself in order to find yourself, but i think finding myself means finding other people and other states and other landscapes and other adventures and other others and, hopefully, somewhere in all of that crap, there i am.

[ 15 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

peru or spain? [22 Jan 2008|11:26pm]
[ mood | vacillatory ]

no se a donde yo quiero ir para las vacaciones. machu picchu vs. prado? BAH INDECISION.

in other news: 2008 is getting better. while it may have started off in the worst way imaginable, i think i have identified the causes of such HORRIDNESS as has previously transpired, and am currently working on eliminating past and future causes of miiisery. oh, winter doldrums, why are you so horrible this year? maybe it is because new jersey is the doldrum state. whatever gardens, that shit is a lie.

bedtime for bonzo. and teachers. and the mortal soul of heath ledger. (sorry heath ledger).

[ sit and chat ]

so far, [16 Jan 2008|12:45am]
[ mood | alone. ]

2008 has been the worst fucking year of my life.

AT LEAST IT CAN'T GET ANY WORSE. hoo.

[ 4 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

harrumph and sigh [05 Jan 2008|09:43pm]
[ mood | lame and old ]

so, i am in hershey, pennsylvania. i was asked to accompany some students on a trip and because i am an idiot i said yes. to make matters worse, around christmas dickie (boyfriend) asked me to go to las vegas with him for that fancy ass consumer electronics convention on the same damned weekend and i already had to do this. i am very bitter. well, he asked me on christmas eve and i imagine i could have told him i would go but i would have had to tell people to find someone else to go on this trip and i would have had to find somebody to cover all my classes and whine whine whine. what good is an online journal for aside from whining, really? and to write things that nobody else would ever care about? right, online journal.

my new year's was pretty godawful. i was drunk and in a bad mood which never works out to anyone's advantage. particularly not to dickie's in this case. on the upside, at least he forgives me for when i am a jerk to him and his friends. i do feel legitimately bad, though. oops.

my spring break begins at the end of february and i don't know where to go. any suggestions? hmm.

figures that when my life was actually interesting i never wrote in this damned thing, but when i am bored (and, consequently, boring) and have nothing better to do, i write in here. such is life.

over christmas break i drew a very, very good drawing of JFK's head in pencil on paper, and i wanted to draw him onto the body of jesus or something, but i have lost my motivation. i think maybe i'll just glue the drawing onto a dollar store portrait of jesus and leave it at that.

BACK TO MY FASCINATING LIFE

[ 3 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

prerequisite OH SHIT ANOTHER YEAR post [31 Dec 2007|09:18pm]
[ mood | liminal ]

things i did in 2007, to be elaborated upon at a later date or never at all (with the latter being far more probable):
1. drank a lot, worked at urban outfitters, unwittingly melded with philadelphia hipsters (phipsters?) most likely due to aforementioned work status
2. drank some more
3. turned twenty-three, which sucked mightily, as i am aging and yet have not found cure to aging
4. somewhere around here i went to california, which was not as fun as one would have hoped
5. the turmoil of relationships (ROOMMATES OH NO)
6. the (ongoing) period of grote comma richard
7. went on tour, drank so much i turned into a can of sparks
8. ate some food
9. quit urban outfitters (un)ceremoniously, began working as high school teacher of latin/spanish in new jersey (OHGODWHY)
10. i do not like being an adult

handsdown best part of 2007: TOUR. i will do this again next year. with better music hopefully. and with less drama. i hope.

this post sucks. WELL. time to leave.

OHH but the view from up here is SO BEAUTIFUL. happy 2008, chumps.

[ sit and chat ]

stress [12 Dec 2007|08:57pm]
[ mood | chewed nails ]

REGRET
increasing correlatively ad infinitem.

JR: Excuse me sir, could we go about making an exchange? Coffee spoons for blank forms?
JP: Absolutely not, miss, for at least coffee spoons once held the trifling pleasure of coffee.

[ sit and chat ]

gooooooodbye twenty-two. [03 Apr 2007|11:57pm]
[ mood | ELDERLY ]

the next time i will be a palendromedary age i will be thirty-three. OH GOD WHY.

twenty-two was a good year, i think. sex drugs and rock'n'roll.

now i am going to go on my roof and ... celebrate my existence. with a cigarette and a jaffa cake.

[ 1 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

top to bottom; bottom to top [05 Feb 2007|03:06am]
[ mood | in limbo ]

- all the grains of sand rest on the bottom of the hourglass
  + (but we have forever to sift it in our fingers)
- there is no more mountain left to climb
  + (oh, but the view from up here is so beautiful)


+/- at least we'll be together for the denouement

[ 3 stayed and chewed the fat |sit and chat ]

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