Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Every Day

Within the past year, I have graduated from my small town, moved to the "south," learned an entire new skill set for a new job, discovered a new favorite book, bought patent leather booties, fallen in love, changed my mind, broken a heart, taken on habits, voted for the first time, made lengthy playlists, had a magical island experience, moved to a bed downstairs, had week-long sleepovers, seen my sister break records, received tens of sketchbooks as gifts, become enamored with feathers, created and published my own magazine, said goodbye, met a new family, completed the first semester, given a friend everything I had, discovered Poladroid, done things I shouldn't have, decided to do things for myself, dressed as Gwen Stefani and a Floridian grandmother, scarred my ankles, brightened days, had my first actual bad bought of acne, fallen asleep in the sun, danced, written small truths, rubbed a receptive scalp, eaten lunch at 12:20 three times a week, lost my taste for sugared coffee beverages, seen the Patriots lose the Superbowl, visited Washington D.C. on three occasions, worsened my eyesight, sat at the tops of mountains, re-watched old favorite movies, adopted a Wonder Woman-esque cuff, turned white t-shirts blue in the laundry, read a poem of my own at an open mic, celebrated election results as one part of a campus-wide mob, made connections, worked hard, tried my best to remember that every day is a choice.
Here's to making mine wisely.

Sunday, December 28, 2008


My cat Abby died of cancer about two years ago. I'd found her as a kitten in my stocking the morning of my first Christmas. We grew up together, although she entered puberty a little before I did, because of the whole cat-years thing. She also reached old age long before I ever thought much about it. I still don't think much about it.

When I found out that Abby had cancer - a tumor under her small, scratchy tongue - I sat down with my journal and filled a page with the cramped writing of a miserable, angst-ridden teenager and the words "i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors..." and so on.

A family friend is in the hospital today, with a tumor the size of a golfball lodged in between the two hemispheres of his brain. The operation to remove the thing is tomorrow.

Consider this my second wind.

i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer i hate tumors i hate cancer

i've been playing with photobooth too much

bed at home

bed at school

Saturday, December 27, 2008

hmhmmhmmm bumbumbummm

Am I the only one who finds it adorable when boys sing to themselves in public, and utterly obnoxious when girls do?

Thursday, December 25, 2008

I'd Hook Up With// Hilary Duff

Please, for me, go watch this.

Now, tell me that you don't feel just a bit sexy. Perhaps you wouldn't go so far as to say that you're wanting Hilary Duff wearing nothing but the remains of a giant tutu that you personally have just shredded away ferociously like the love-animal that you are, but you're a little turned on, right? Maybe dark lipstick isn't your thing, but aren't you wondering why you don't have a thick black satin ribbon (for tying ever so gently over the eyes of your lover, or your own) in your top drawer right now? I sure am. These leftover red, green, and gold sparkly Christmas ribbons aren't going to cut it. And if it weren't entirely juvenile (and bad for my teeth), I'd probably be sucking on one of my fingers right now, for lack of the thumbs of someone else. She makes it look so good.

Hand me a ribbon and a pool cue, I'm getting under the table with Lizzie McGuire.

white tee envy

I would kick people's asses for this shirt.
And I'm kicking my own ass for not letting my hair grow this long.

picture from knight cat