August 2009
21 posts
Note to self
Stop calling everyone ‘sweetie darling’. This isn’t abfab, as much as I would like it to be.
I am bad at sleeping. Is there an app for that?
People ask me for directions a lot. Do I really...
Is it already time for botox? Ugh.
Back in an Ysaÿe mood. When did I stop listening...
I wish John Hollander had written all of my...
“Observe the whore outside the store.
But if we mean to single out the allegorical figure of Revelation 17 then she may become trochaic, when
Babylon we mean here-the whore
(Not some hooker by the seashore).”
Rosenbaum’s syllabus reads like a Bishop poem: so practiced and refined in its casual elegance. That class is going to be beautiful. The early hour be damned.
Dear food processor, how did I live before your amazing glory?
You know you have too many clothes when the dry cleaner cusses at you and your box for Good Will weighs more than Kate Moss on Thanksgiving day.
My great uncle/cousin/something had emphysema and can make a perfect train sound. We are sooo related.
Someone’s gotta be on top.
– Me when my uncle called me the star child. This is neither my day nor audience.
Oh, I don’t eat.
– My oops at the family reunion. This was mainly to avoid the vast display of fried things.
Apparently just because you tattoo an ankh on your forearm doesn’t mean that it is of any importance to you or that you even know what it means. That was awkward.
There’s a sheeter in the panty room?
– Confusion from ‘Unwrapped’ on Food Network.
It's too early to start applying online for grad...
Now there is no outlet for my panic. Damnit.
I let myself sleep in until Starbucks opens…totally justifiable, right?
It never fails:
Clothes all packed in under 20 minutes.
This included folding two loads of laundry.
This is my reasoning that I do not have too many clothes, despite solid evidence to the contrary.
Twelve hours until I can change my gauze!