December 2010
11 posts
“give me your eyes, i need sunshine.”
Poem Post: "Melvin Gelman"
Melvin Gelman
I want a boy that’s born from a library
One with a seven-million volume love story heart,
An aorta pumping ink to lifeless limbs long since forgotten.
He’ll be the one to teach me how to dance among Dewy Decimals,
The doors of his sternum always open
To every sidewalk prophet that needs a smile
just as badly as a cigarette or a dollar.
His spine won’t be straight, but worn...
Inspiration:
the poetry of edward estlin cummings
joan cusack in 16 Candles
the art and philosophy of keith haring
the mythic lives of each of my parents
Listening To... Sonic Youth
I don’t think Sonic Youth will ever go out of style- there’s really nothing more that can be said. I’ve been harboring a maaaajor girl crush on Kim Gordon for the past 5 years and I’m not at all afraid to admit it.
Top of the Pops: “Incinerate”, “Teenage Riot”, “Kool Thing”, “Hey Joni”
Listening To... Pomegranates
Aside from being one of my favorite fruits, Pomegranates are also one of my favorite sunny day car soundtrack driving bands. Walking everywhere in DC hasn’t exactly been as conducive to looping the 2009 record “Everybody Come Outside!” as zipping around the greater Hyannis area in my little blue Corolla has proven itself to be. Now that I’m home and back in the swing of...
Red Line Travels (and not to Glenmont or Shady...
Yesterday, Dan and I made the voyage to the greater Cambridge area for some thrifting, over priced ice cream, and memories. In a remarkable feat I don’t think I’ve ever accomplished before, we managed to stay on the Red Line the entire day- not impulsively wandering to the MFA, Boston Public Library, or 81 Newbury Street.
We initiated the voyage at the Garment District, hoping to...
Out of this Gworld: The Return to Osterville (Part...
On December 16 at 2:45 p.m., my first semester at The George Washington University officially ended! After the living hell that was finals week, I decided to reward myself by getting absolutely hammered at 3 p.m. on a Thursday. It certainly helped to pass the time. The next morning, I was on a plane back to Massachusetts, ready to see my family, friends, and random former classmates I had forgot...
traumatic
brittany murphy died on my 18th birthday. i have to live with that the rest of my life.
why are photos in textbooks always so fucking...
seriously, though? where is the relevance? this is a SPANISH book. this chapter is about shopping, not freakish arian children posing with a soccer ball, apples, or rollerbladers with rattails. slap a fiesta in there and call it a day. i don’t need to see this shit.
humble origins
i like to read. i’m not saying that to sound facetious or hip, i genuinely do enjoy the act of reading books of all sorts. as a child, these books usually involved a female protagonist with a painfully modern name like Roxy or Chloe or something Mary-Kate Olsen would be named in one of those movies (Ashley always had the boring names) that only a middle aged graphic designer single dad...