August 15th, 2007
|08:20 am - givin' in|
This weekend I am coming back to livejournal. I can't stay away. I miss you all too much, however, i am coming back with a different journal. i'll keep you all posted.
June 2nd, 2007
|01:26 pm - Nintendo DS|
I'll sell my nintendo ds for $70 bucks (they're regularly at least $100) plus at least 5 games included (without the boxes for the games though). must me well concealed cash or a money order. if you're interested let me know.
June 1st, 2007
I am down here for good. Feel free to remove me from your friend's list. If you'd like to keep in touch. I'm on myspace here. I only ever update there anymore anyway.
If you would prefer to email me (rather then myspace), my address is email@example.com.
It's been fun.
March 18th, 2007
|10:06 am - From Last Week|
After we ate dinner at the sale barn last night, Grandpa and I heaved and hawed in the yard moving a pile of bricks. It was nice, sweating in the dusky purple air, side by side under the pines. Today we headed to Cape Giradeau to see the river and eat Cajun food at Broussard's. On the way, we stopped by Grandpa's friend's house to pet the soft little burros. They brayed and perked their velvety ears when we clucked at them. Their muzzles wrinkled up pleasurably when you scratched them just so. The Mississippi was immersed in fog and damp and twisted and turned like a forsaken woman on the run from a lover. This moring after Grandma and I made the beds, I washed my hair in the sink and looked up to see a trio of wild turkeys outside the window. They were strutting around like a group of kings. I was so excited I squealed, and they set off harassed, for the deeper woods. My cousin, Daniel, is set to come stay next week. Grandpa and Grandma may be quite sick of grandchildren on vacations by the time the month is over. Though they do seem to be enjoying themselves quite alright for now.
Foggy & Damp Mississippi
Down by the Levee
Current Music: Mohammed Rafi/"Jaan Pehechaan Ho"
|10:02 am - The Melody of a Fallen Tree|
My cousin, Daniel
Grandma in the Dining Room
I must say that I quite enjoyed the "retired life" with Grandma & Grandpa Sample after my arrival on Friday evening. Our days were spent piddling. We occupied ourselves with little chores such as reorganizing the tupperware cabinent, napping, reading, napping, watching the birds, napping, eating, and of course napping. Grandpa smoked ciggarettes, and Grandma dusted about the house. I carved up quiet slices of the afternoons for thinking. On Sunday, Grandma, my Aunt Toni, my aunt's friend Mary, and I headed up to Columbia, Missouri for a tea party at my cousin's college. It was in the historic Senior Hall at Stephen's college. Their was a harpist and young fashion models, future designers, and marketers floating through the rooms like pretty summer breezes. Afterwards we went to a fashion show and oohed and ahhed over designs from second row, end of runway. Later Grandma and I picked around a jeweler's shop, but she couldn't find anything that she terribly adored. The ride home was great fun, and we cackled, as the men say, like "a group of hens." My aunt gave me her recipe for the best pumpkin muffins, and I can't wait to try to make a batch for Papa and Mama. They're gorgeously simple!
The Historic James O'Fallon House
Current Music: The Cure/"Plainsong"
March 9th, 2007
|12:32 pm - Tagged by squidpod|
The rules are: Once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with 10 weird random things, facts, or habits about yourself. At the end, you choose people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you are tagged" on their profile and tell them to read your latest blog.
1. I really wish I could go back in time and be a boy in the 1970s for sneakers, scuffy pool halls and black eyes, the desperation and fire of Alice Cooper's "I'm Eighteen" and other songs like "Free Ride", "Sweet Emotion", and "War Pigs".
2. I tell time and measure horribly, if at all, because I always cheated in middle school math. I still have to count 5, 10, 15 to tell time, and I regularly still add/subtract on my fingers.
3. When I was little, I nearly choked to death on a gummy bear sitting on the back porch.
4. When you meet me, I will seem meeker, quieter, shyer, then I am…by far. Most people, who really get to know me, cannot believe I am the same person who they met in the beginning. I am actually very fucking lionhearted and brassy.
5. I am constantly compared to Madame Bovary; since I haven't read the book, I have no idea of that is a good thing or a bad thing.
6. My favorite Siouxsie and the Banshees' song is "Cities in Dust".
7. When I'm walking, sometimes I'll think how am I doing this, and I swear to God, I'll almost fall right then.
8. I am obsessive about learning/studying Chernobyl's history. Radiation fallout is all very romantic and tragic to me, I suppose.
9. During a game of wiffleball, when a snake threatened to end the game and was near my ankle, I severed its head with a garden hoe.
10. I secretly love when men call me babe, hon, etc. I flutter my lashes & purr a bit.
I tag: whoever is bored & has interesting weird things to confess.
March 6th, 2007
|08:54 pm - "My man wants to buy you something."|
I'm writing this letter to you while my toilet is soaking with the pine-sol. I opened the windows for the "proper ventilation" nonsense, especially since I never measure it out and usually pour heavy. Someone with a hoarse, ragged voice is screaming outside into the sunlight. When you are happy, and someone else is on the verge, on a pretty day, don't you secretly think them to be the most selfish beasts? What audacity, ruining such a gorgeous day because of some histrionic breakdown. Obviously when it's you, there's a narcissistic difference. Everything seems that much more important and broken.
I watched a documentary on Noah's ark last night, and I fell in love with the actors playing the Sumerian children with their kohled eyebrows and sand toned skin. The show encouraged the presupposition that the story of the ark was based on a less embellished story of a merchant really out for monetary gains, and a flood that lasted only 7 days. I always like watching those educational sorts of things, what with all the Bible historians, but I personally am far more likely to believe in poetic 40 days and 40 nights, and the miracle of beasts marching two by two and olive branches. It doesn't seem at all farfetched or unbelievable in the least to my heart seeped in years of tightrope living and dreaming. The miracles that I see everyday, the fact that we are all merely bone and blood, yet aware and feeling and exploring; the inspired detail of everything in nature, down to the intricacies of a pinecone leave me little doubt. Strangely, it is science that helped me find my faith.
Speaking of the naturalistic, you should've seen Mama's gasp and impending promise of bird flu when I took a bag out of her car and informed her that I was picking up the creature in the above picture to bring home this eve. I didn't have my camera with me, and I love how dead birds are pulled in and secretive like little hearts, but the cleaning people around the office will always run off with them quickly (imagine that). I thought the markings on this one were so beautiful, and so I put it in the bag and took it up to the office to hide in my desk. Then I took it home. Imagine the shock if anyone would have looked in my desk drawer, and came across my poor deceased bird friend. I will do a lot of strange things in the name of mediocre art (though my good camera wasn't even charged so it all proved fruitless as you will see above). You know how my heart is; you know how I am.
Memo to Myself- List of things to take to Grandma & Grandpa's House
(besides the obvious):
-Sir Roundy, the pillow
-driver's education book
-cell phone charger
-DS & charger/Animal Crossing
-Ipod (charge up before leaving)
Current Music: Death from Above 1979/"Sexy Results"
March 5th, 2007
|03:40 pm - Oh wait, I'll get that stapler for you!|
There is a dead bird in a bag in my desk at work. Someday I will be an old extravagant witchy lady about town, I promise. You know...the sort that are secretly lonely?
Current Mood: details forthcoming
March 1st, 2007
|10:51 am - Tweet-Twitter|
Antiquated days had people concerned about the winds, and I don’t doubt that trepidation for a second. Science smirks at them now, but I can’t say that I wholly agree. My windows open in the evening, letting the night air vibrate every awareness within and all the relevant nerves in my skull. You can’t deny its effect. Last night, I fell asleep in my t-shirt and underwear, with my bare legs sprawled across the bed, listening to the Drifters.
I got my Valentine’s ring back, and I keep staring at it when the light hits it, and it seems strange that something so elegant belongs to me.
Last weekend I cleaned my fish aquarium, and now the bulbous gluttons are swimming around, swishing and fanning their fins like little aristocrats. Well, Cornelia is anyway, Ant has a more shy but curious personality. They are dirty fish, but I love goldies. I’ve always fallen terribly in love with mine.
I took a paid week’s vacation from work for the week of the 12th. I’m going to stay at my grandparent’s lovely little house in the pines and write (a ton hopefully), relax, read, & take some polaroids. Hopefully, I will have lots of lovely posts to share when I get home.
The biography on Audubon that I’ve been reading lately is superb!!! I’ve always adored his work, and I am such a bird watcher/admirer as well. I love the short & fat little black capped chickadees when they hop, hop, hop and watch me when I whistle to them. They have the most complex vocalizations in the animal kingdom, if you didn’t already know. They’re amazing. Someday, when I finally give in and purchase my own home, I’ll have several feeders in the back. That is definitely one of the things that I’m looking forward to at my grandparent’s home. They feed a ton of birds, squirrels, and they even feed a huge flock of wild turkeys and some deer. I have always loved their houses out in the woods.
February 20th, 2007
|01:28 pm - Degradation|
Memphis trips were made last weekend, and we ended up driving around the factories that are such wonders of modern industry that, with their glowing green lights at night and their husky puffing stacks, they’re almost beautiful. Then we ventured through the chancy part of the city where I felt my apocalyptic inherent desire to run front first and impale myself on certain destruction. When I was little, I once asked my father if when he got to the edge of something with a great height, he felt the urge to jump. The difference between the me of now is that I have neither the ego nor the promise of the immortality of youth backing my addiction for disaster and chaos. It’s reassuring in its own way. On the way back, I slept slouched against the window with the lights flickering behind my lids like the beginning of dreams.
The weather is so warm today. Warm enough for open windows and a little more casual thoroughfare in my way of dress. Really I’m just being a bit more rebellious in small ways, pushing my boundaries in the softest pair of old blue jeans rescued from a friend that hold my hips and sensitively curve around my chubby thighs, gold hoops dangling from my ears. I haven’t pulled out my favorite brown chucks, but I stare longingly at them at the back of the closet. L. insists that I wear them and restore them to their proper glory, although you have to have a special appreciation for them that neither my Mama nor my boss seems to have acquired. Soon enough, I will traipse through the fleamarkets wearing them with my old old tshirts that are as true to me as every memory I’ve had in them, smelling of Coco Mademoiselle with a lipsticked mouthed, pursed in serious concentration, a requirement for the scouring for the best finds.
I looked at a house yesterday afternoon. It had old windows with buttery panes of glass and wooden floors. The attic was tremendously huge, and the porch was nice too, but I can’t force my all roaming wild Daisy May into that space. It isn’t fair to her, and besides that it was out of my price range which is so pathetic it shouldn’t even be called a range. I broke off the friendship a few days ago when confronted with brutal sinuous lies. When he wasn’t even apologetic while holding the tendons of it all, I felt betrayed in a way I haven’t felt in years. I’ve actually felt better about confronting the cheapness of it, and I feel fully justified in being upset. It’s just a shame when you’re let down by someone. I haven’t been bad over it at all though, knowing I had been putting my all into it and was deceived. I’ve laughed more and been happier in the last few days anyhow, and I don’t wish him ill for a second, merely that he will find whatever answers it is that he seems to be searching.
Current Music: the Supremes/"Baby Love"