May your lilypad be forever floating, and may delicious butterflies and moths forever circle around your head, my dear Toad. Life with you is simply marvelous.
Humbly yours,
Frog
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
To My Dearest Toad...
I address this to you with the greatest fondness and tenderest of thoughts. Presently, as you slumber in your room, I sit beneath a momentous drapery of blankets, huddling for warmth in my lonely cold chamber, wishing so ardently that it could be you to warm me with your tinkling laughter, your radiant smile, your funny croaking noises. Alas! Perhaps the good morrow shall bring such treasured gifts.
May your lilypad be forever floating, and may delicious butterflies and moths forever circle around your head, my dear Toad. Life with you is simply marvelous.
Humbly yours,
Frog
May your lilypad be forever floating, and may delicious butterflies and moths forever circle around your head, my dear Toad. Life with you is simply marvelous.
Humbly yours,
Frog
Monday, March 9, 2009
Today was wonderful, minus the weather taking a turn for the shitter, but whatever. My poetry professor gave me a bunch of books, some lesser-known Beat writers and their contemporaries, also some of his own work, because I gave him a copy of my book and he really liked it. I'm really glad
about that. I'm in the midst of getting things ready to send out for publishing, so it was a little boost of encouragement. Very good stuff, too. Joseph Torra. Read him. And John Wieners. Him too. Both Bostonians, and amazing writers.
AND THEN I got home and had a package, meaning that my beautiful, chestnut brown-fitting-like-a-dream-vintage-Etienne-Aigner-riding-boots had come!! They are exquisite. So excited. $24 with shipping. Thanks eBay!
Now I must whisk myself away and bury my sorry little head under a frightening amount of homework.
P.S. Today, for the first time ever, I did not have a paper written on time, and having not anticipated this happening and therefore not asking my kindly, elderly professor for an extension, I opted to skip the class and hand it in on Wednesday. Oops? Or YAHOO July, 'grats on becoming a useless waste of life sophomore slugbag? If it's any consolation (I think I'm writing this to myself at the moment), the paper is about John Donne, so it's a tad lofty and more strenuous, than oh, you know, Facebooking.
P.P.S. On the T today, there was this little girl, she was Asian, but that doesn't have to do with anything really and for the record, being that this is a public domain, I'm NOT racist. It's just that she was slightly cross-eyed, and due to the nature of her eyes due to her ethnicity, when she looked to the side you could not see anything but the white of her left eye and it was beyond freaky.
about that. I'm in the midst of getting things ready to send out for publishing, so it was a little boost of encouragement. Very good stuff, too. Joseph Torra. Read him. And John Wieners. Him too. Both Bostonians, and amazing writers.AND THEN I got home and had a package, meaning that my beautiful, chestnut brown-fitting-like-a-dream-vintage-Etienne-Aigner-riding-boots had come!! They are exquisite. So excited. $24 with shipping. Thanks eBay!
Now I must whisk myself away and bury my sorry little head under a frightening amount of homework.
P.S. Today, for the first time ever, I did not have a paper written on time, and having not anticipated this happening and therefore not asking my kindly, elderly professor for an extension, I opted to skip the class and hand it in on Wednesday. Oops? Or YAHOO July, 'grats on becoming a useless waste of life sophomore slugbag? If it's any consolation (I think I'm writing this to myself at the moment), the paper is about John Donne, so it's a tad lofty and more strenuous, than oh, you know, Facebooking.
P.P.S. On the T today, there was this little girl, she was Asian, but that doesn't have to do with anything really and for the record, being that this is a public domain, I'm NOT racist. It's just that she was slightly cross-eyed, and due to the nature of her eyes due to her ethnicity, when she looked to the side you could not see anything but the white of her left eye and it was beyond freaky.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Keeping the Bees
I went to my favorite state in the Union this weekend: Vermont.
It's been gloriously warm since Friday, which made me really excited for Spring. It's all I can think about. I'm meant to be writing a paper on John Donne and instead I'm dreaming of all the wonderful outfits I'm going to wear come a few weeks (months? pessimism?)
I had the weekend filled with my Special K's (minus Kathleen): Katharine, Kirsten, Kieran and Katie.
Brattleboro was wonderful. Katharine, Kirsten and I met up with Kieran at this little pub called McNeil's and listened to some really good music while making friends with the first non-creepy older men I've EVER met at a bar. They were a bunch of dads who go out together every Friday night after playing pond-hockey, and all had kids around our ages and were very genial and nice. I had this local beer called Bees Knees, and it was delicious, made with honey. Yum. Later in the night we (I) decided to dress up and play around with Katharine's wealth of interesting household items as props for an impromptu photo shoot with my Holga. Involving laughter, Gimlets, elephants, teacups, scarves, Wellingtons, and a bee-keeping hat, it turned out to be like a bunch of characters suspended in
a colloid between about five different decades and realms of the imagination. The next day we went thrifting and I found the best rust-colored high waisted skirt just waiting for me to hem it a few inches, and an amazing crocheted cardigan. And a sweet pair of moccasin booties. Meep! The BEST Co-op in the world exists there. I want to live in Vermont quite badly. The culture there is so interesting. One day, perhaps.
True Story to be Read Out Loud: On the way home, Kirsten and I made one smooth move through Athol.
Heh heh.
Last night Inga, Katie and I had some quality gal play time and had a really nice mellow night in, with our brains slightly out and about elsewhere, imagining all the fun we're going to be having in the coming months. I came up with the Brilliant Idea of making a comic book about our lives, starring ourselves as super-heroines or something, eh? eh? Meh. Methinks this is a pipe dream.
I also ran forever today in West Gloucester and missed Avery and Elena immensely. It was beautiful, the birds were singing and the air smelled like ocean and rain.
I miss a lot of people at the moment.
I slept with the window open and woke up to mourning doves. Then I cleaned my room.
This week is going to be super stressful with midterms and such. Yick yick.
Weekly wisdom: To anyone who has not tried acai berry sorbet, or Trader Joe's peach-mango jello, I highly suggest you do so.
It's been gloriously warm since Friday, which made me really excited for Spring. It's all I can think about. I'm meant to be writing a paper on John Donne and instead I'm dreaming of all the wonderful outfits I'm going to wear come a few weeks (months? pessimism?)
I had the weekend filled with my Special K's (minus Kathleen): Katharine, Kirsten, Kieran and Katie.
Brattleboro was wonderful. Katharine, Kirsten and I met up with Kieran at this little pub called McNeil's and listened to some really good music while making friends with the first non-creepy older men I've EVER met at a bar. They were a bunch of dads who go out together every Friday night after playing pond-hockey, and all had kids around our ages and were very genial and nice. I had this local beer called Bees Knees, and it was delicious, made with honey. Yum. Later in the night we (I) decided to dress up and play around with Katharine's wealth of interesting household items as props for an impromptu photo shoot with my Holga. Involving laughter, Gimlets, elephants, teacups, scarves, Wellingtons, and a bee-keeping hat, it turned out to be like a bunch of characters suspended in
a colloid between about five different decades and realms of the imagination. The next day we went thrifting and I found the best rust-colored high waisted skirt just waiting for me to hem it a few inches, and an amazing crocheted cardigan. And a sweet pair of moccasin booties. Meep! The BEST Co-op in the world exists there. I want to live in Vermont quite badly. The culture there is so interesting. One day, perhaps.True Story to be Read Out Loud: On the way home, Kirsten and I made one smooth move through Athol.
Heh heh.
Last night Inga, Katie and I had some quality gal play time and had a really nice mellow night in, with our brains slightly out and about elsewhere, imagining all the fun we're going to be having in the coming months. I came up with the Brilliant Idea of making a comic book about our lives, starring ourselves as super-heroines or something, eh? eh? Meh. Methinks this is a pipe dream.
I also ran forever today in West Gloucester and missed Avery and Elena immensely. It was beautiful, the birds were singing and the air smelled like ocean and rain.
I miss a lot of people at the moment.
I slept with the window open and woke up to mourning doves. Then I cleaned my room.
This week is going to be super stressful with midterms and such. Yick yick.
Weekly wisdom: To anyone who has not tried acai berry sorbet, or Trader Joe's peach-mango jello, I highly suggest you do so.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
The Jumping Shrimp
Shrimp originated around the 14th century with the Middle English shrimpe, akin to the Middle German schrempen, and meaning to contract or wrinkle; and the Old Norse skorpna, meaning to shrivel up.
"And what to you is the heart of an arthropod, its nature a domain of sand?"
Le Premier
Bonjour! Le post premier! As hard as I try, I find it nearly impossible to have a healthy, functioning relatioship with my online blogging self. I broke up with livejournal at age 14. I think MySpace dumped me a few years back. And this is lucky number three. Maybe I will re-create this online vision to be so extraordinary that with each post, my life will culminate to a fantastic pinn
acle as this blog progresses! But alas, I feel again that my efforts are in vain. I don't know if I'm up with the times. Mais, j'espere pour un autre temps.
This blog is going to strictly be about adventures. My life is full of adventures. One could liken me to a gallant explorer of the days of old, finding new continents, sailing the high seas, parleying with natives, reading the planets from my hammock in the trees. Everything is an adventure for me. Eating? Uproarious! Getting dressed? A trip to the Congolese jungle! Washing dishes? Treasure hunting! Driving across town? Steve McQueen.
I'm not really sure how I feel about the whole public sharing of my life. Maybe it's the English in me. We enjoy privacy. Like hedges, and fences, and many layers of clothing.
Presently, yours truly is rather hungry. So I'd like to share with everyone an anecdote about something that happened to me last Sunday, the memory of which is making me very happy at the moment:
Around 5 p.m. Katie and I were hungry and hungover and tired as hell, in need of a little sustinence. So we nabbed some bacon, egg (singular. as your typical malnourished college student, I don't keep a stocked fridge.) Cabot cheddar, and whole wheat English muffins. Splitting one egg between two breakfast sandwiches made more room for extra bacon. It was cured in apple cider, and it was divine. We put it all together and it was a breakfast sadwichgasm. But this alone would not suffice our fiednish, ravenous hunger.
Next was an organic tomato, basil and mozzarella pizza. Cooking in our fabulous ol' oven in about ten minutes, it was a fantastic savory dessert that both of our petite little selves so desired!
The cherry on top of it all was watching The City in my fluffy, haven-like bed. Fabulous. Then I had a snow day, (fricken sweet) allowing me to catch up on all the sleep I managed to avoid over the weekend.
XOXO
acle as this blog progresses! But alas, I feel again that my efforts are in vain. I don't know if I'm up with the times. Mais, j'espere pour un autre temps. This blog is going to strictly be about adventures. My life is full of adventures. One could liken me to a gallant explorer of the days of old, finding new continents, sailing the high seas, parleying with natives, reading the planets from my hammock in the trees. Everything is an adventure for me. Eating? Uproarious! Getting dressed? A trip to the Congolese jungle! Washing dishes? Treasure hunting! Driving across town? Steve McQueen.
I'm not really sure how I feel about the whole public sharing of my life. Maybe it's the English in me. We enjoy privacy. Like hedges, and fences, and many layers of clothing.
Presently, yours truly is rather hungry. So I'd like to share with everyone an anecdote about something that happened to me last Sunday, the memory of which is making me very happy at the moment:
Around 5 p.m. Katie and I were hungry and hungover and tired as hell, in need of a little sustinence. So we nabbed some bacon, egg (singular. as your typical malnourished college student, I don't keep a stocked fridge.) Cabot cheddar, and whole wheat English muffins. Splitting one egg between two breakfast sandwiches made more room for extra bacon. It was cured in apple cider, and it was divine. We put it all together and it was a breakfast sadwichgasm. But this alone would not suffice our fiednish, ravenous hunger.
Next was an organic tomato, basil and mozzarella pizza. Cooking in our fabulous ol' oven in about ten minutes, it was a fantastic savory dessert that both of our petite little selves so desired!
The cherry on top of it all was watching The City in my fluffy, haven-like bed. Fabulous. Then I had a snow day, (fricken sweet) allowing me to catch up on all the sleep I managed to avoid over the weekend.
XOXO
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