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Wednesday, June 24th, 2009
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8:56 pm - Tom Cruise optional
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I desperately need a hair cut. I'm looking through hair galleries, but all hairstyles start to look the same to me. However, I'm thinking of something like this or like this (yeah, Nicole Kidman much?).
But I'm open to suggestions. If you've got any, send me some pictures, 'cause this hair has to come off ASAP.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Saturday, June 20th, 2009
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3:57 pm - Random acts of Shakespeare
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Oh mistress mine! where are you roaming?
Oh! stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
************************
It just popped into my head suddenly. Maybe because I've been thinking about Orlando's Shakespeare in the Park series lately. Hmm.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, June 12th, 2009
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5:32 pm
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Oh yes, and I forgot to say, you MUST all go see Up. All of you!
I won't lie, I cried for pretty much the first 30 minutes. Damn my soft emotional center! I'm like a candy, but with feelings instead of nougat inside.
Anyway, yes. Go see it. Preferably in 3-D. I promise they don't make you wear those dorky red and blue glasses any more.
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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5:17 pm - Ma vie vivante.
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Oh lord, I completely forgot to update recently. I haven't died (though I'm currently sore in just about every place it's possible to be sore). I'm about to leave to the Springs for the weekend (if my legs don't fall off, that is), so this will have to be brief.
Let's see....I'm currently working as a supervisor at a residential facility for mentally disabled people, and I just had crisis management training in case I have to deal with any violent residents. Fortunately, my residents are all pretty laid back. The only real downside is the 4.30 am wake up call, but oh well.
Chris is here with me, which is awesome because I have something to look forward to when I get home from work, though it's also weird because we're staying with my dad for the time being. But, after some initial awkwardness, we're falling into synch quite nicely. Cooking and eating at home certainly helps. Not that I don't love Village Inn pancakes, but not 4 times a week, you know?
Being sans car is a major f'ing pain in the neck. England has spoiled me with its relatively reliable public transport. However, the buses here are actually really nice, so it does allow for freedom of movement on weekends. You can cover the whole county for $4, and you sure as hell can't say that about a car with current gas prices.
My days off are a bit weird, so I have to covet every weekend day I get, but so far my boy and I have managed to cram as much fun and relaxation possible into every free moment.
So that's what's going on with me. Disgustingly quotidian and depressingly suburban, I know, but I'm just going to go with the flow until it's time for a change.
As always. ;)
How are you?
current mood:  sore
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(6 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, May 18th, 2009
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10:32 pm
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I gave up on my workout this evening and instead commenced a 20 minute underwear-clad Smiths-and-Morrissey dance-a-thon. After collapsing on the bed in a heap, grinning like an idiot, I realized this is a way better way to get my daily requirement of aerobic exercise.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, May 3rd, 2009
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10:32 pm
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Sometimes I can't get over how amazing it is to be flesh and bone.
current music: New Order- 'Your Silent Face'
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(comment on this)
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| Saturday, May 2nd, 2009
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1:41 pm
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| Thursday, April 30th, 2009
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11:58 pm - Sonnet XVII
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I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
-Pablo Neruda
__________________________________________________
I am a cliche, as the saying goes.
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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12:15 am
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I'm supposed to sing backing vocals on this guy's track on Friday, but it's kind of difficult because he won't tell me what he actually wants me to do. Harmony? Parallel octaves? Ooohs and Ahhhs? Motown-esq 'shoop shoop'-ing? I guess I'll just go in there and do some random vocal magic at the mic and see what sticks.
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, April 23rd, 2009
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9:42 pm
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| Monday, April 20th, 2009
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11:15 pm - Unholy Sonnet
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After the praying, after the hymn-singing,
After the sermon's trenchant commentary
On the world's ills, which make ours secondary,
After communion, after the hand wringing,
And after peace descends upon us, bringing
Our eyes up to regard the sanctuary
And how the light swords through it, and how, scary
In their sheer numbers, motes of dust ride, clinging—
There is, as doctors say about some pain,
Discomfort knowing that despite your prayers,
Your listening and rejoicing, your small part
In this communal stab at coming clean,
There is one stubborn remnant of your cares
Intact. There is still murder in your heart.
-Mark Jarman
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(comment on this)
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| Saturday, April 18th, 2009
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7:19 pm
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| Saturday, March 28th, 2009
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10:22 pm
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If I keep walking the dog three miles a day, I'll end up with killer gams. On the downside, it means I'm way too tired to go swimming at night.
I was walking him past the golf course, feeling sweaty and gross, when I passed two dudes (epitome of the word) on a green who started hitting on me and telling me to 'come on over here!'. So I smiled charmingly and said 'No, sorry.' And then I wondered why men (or, rather, dudes) have this compulsion to hit on me when I feel grody and icky. Not just when I'm dressed casually or sans makeup, which is most of the time, but when I feel like I won't feel human again until I jump in the shower. What's with that?
Anyway, the dog is snoring on my bed. He is supremely weird. We bought him a life jacket, but I couldn't talk dad into getting him any doggles. Pity.
Although it could be that the doggles, they do nothing.
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, March 27th, 2009
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11:43 pm
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So what happened here? I mean, I consider myself fairly well-versed in the History of Bowie, but I missed this. Anyone care to enlighten me so I don't have to Wikipedia it?
And yes, in case you're wondering, I totally would.
ETA: Never mind. It was for pot possession. I'm actually kind of shocked, considering that this was Thin White Duke era.
current music: 'All My Friends'- LCD Soundsystem
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, March 23rd, 2009
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11:54 am
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So, we have a dog. Well, my grandma's dog. For...an undisclosed amount of time.
Tomorrow we have to go and buy him a little doggie life jacket.
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, March 16th, 2009
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2:11 pm
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I just bought a book of airmail stamps, but I realize that I'm probably not going to use them all before Chris gets here, so if any of my overseas friends want me to send them letters, let me know!
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(comment on this)
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| Tuesday, January 27th, 2009
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3:24 pm
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If anyone uses Twitter, feel free to add me. Username is the same as this one, because soy muy creativa.
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, January 5th, 2009
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12:12 pm - somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
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somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
e.e. cummings
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, December 23rd, 2008
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8:40 pm - The Journey of the Magi
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A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices.:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
-T. S. Eliot
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, December 22nd, 2008
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11:24 pm - Sailing to Byzantium
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That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
-W. B. Yeats
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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