spell it with an 'x'

ain't it funny

2010-05-04T01:45:00.003-04:00

Well, here I am. it's the end of my freshman year in college. I will begin my first exam in about nine and a half hours. I will be doing exams and then rushing home for my big sister's graduation, and then beginning my durham summer. And that is all I can think about.

I miss the little things; just the classics. those special Durham classics that only a few of us know.

And I miss my mom and dad, always. I love doing my own thing, but I always have the most fun with them. This will be the most laid back summer, I can feel it.

Of course partying with the old gang, doin it our crazy old school way that we do.

and spending summer nights they way they were meant to be spent

there is, indeed, a reason why I am staying up to post this. I had my final work meeting, and we did these things called paper plate awards. now, I don't know if you're familiar, but the way we did them was that everyone got a silly/funny/thoughtful/unique-to-their-quirk type award. The theme we went with (because we always have themes to everything we do) was celebrities.
Now I knew about this from the get go. I was in the room and worked with the original plan. And from the moment I knew who would be up to choosing the awards, I was prepared for the worst. The awards started getting called out. People's cute quriks, interests, skills, and other unique qualities were being called out.

I recieved the Mother Theresa Award, "for being the most loving, and always looking out!"

Can I ask, what is that crap?
This is the most bland, contrived and trite "award" I have ever recived. The people who were choosing these awards don't have any idea who I am. We talk, yes. We're friendly, of course. But they don't know my quirks, my sense of humor, or my passions. They don't know me, and it seems they don't care. Some of the people I work with are so abrasive that I want to scream, or hit them- but I know I could give each and every member some kind of creative comparison. I could easily give each member a thoughtful and appropriate award. And yet they can't figure out anything about me? So while the gesture is nice, I was completely offended by it. That award means nothing coming from them- they said it because they couldn't think of anything, but I'm not a bitch or a slacker, so they tried to give me someone good. That would have meant the world to mean, had it come from someone who knows me- like all my people back home. And then I get all tenderhearted and realize how much I miss the people who know me best, all my people I've grown up with. And how much I cannot wait to dip my toes into almost still swimming holes, grow and change and feel familiar all over again. And know that the people I'm talking to know me, and see me.
Unlike the people I work with. I thought they'd at least ask ryan who has, I don't know, known me since I was a child?

whatever. I need to rest and charge ahead a strong and exciting week. It's staggering how fast it's arrived.

and I'm so so so close to

feeling free like this again

Ishq Hai Jhootha

2010-04-15T22:51:00.005-04:00

as an offical international studies major with an asian studies minor, my schedule for next semester is complete and it looks amazing

african dance on mondays and wednesdays- we have live drummers in class!
but the other class I want is packed

bhangra+hip hop

I'm gonna get in it, though

Government and Politics of SE Asia with my wonderful and handsome advisor- who happens to be a UU just like me! we get along so well, and he even said my schedule is perfect

I'm taking Imperial Chinese History with Grant Hardy who's only one of the world's leading experts on the subject (this man also speaks fluent greek and mandarin)

I'm taking Intro to Islam, which I cannot wait to learn more about
as well as Asian Religious Traditions with my favorite professor- we could be soul mates (she likes to make fun of keanu reeves almost as much as I do)

but that means lots of buddhism

and hinduism- which is a pretty big deal because

I just found out that I'm gonna get my language credit in hindi when I study abroad

I will understand this alphabet soon- I'm insanely excited to learn

and to be abroad in beautiful hyderabad- my parents say they will visit me!

I can't wait to do side trips to places like bombay

but this place keeps me pretty satisfied
for the first time in my life, I feel like I have a solid and feasible plan for the future that actually excites and engages me
now all we need is a tall order of summer

pieces of the people we love

2010-02-21T23:58:00.005-05:00

just a little piece of all the people I love and miss

you guys all rock, for real

sorry I've been bad blogger! more/more interesting posting soon, pinky promise.

I'm gonna find a way to make it

2010-01-20T22:12:00.003-05:00

ever think you're doing just fine and then it turns out you're actually an asshole?
and don't you just hate it when that happens?

I've had this song stuck in my head

I miss the green on the trees

but I am getting really into my poetry class

this book is incredible. if you have any intrest in poetry, buy it

of course these

always make me really happy

but this guy

theodore roethke has blown me away

right now I'm having a really good time and a really hard time.
I know everyone else doesn't miss home, but I do

just gotta keep lookin up

rest in peace nana

2010-01-05T01:02:00.002-05:00

I'm trying to celebrate her life, not mourn her death

she grew up in evanston. my dad and aunt used to spend their summers at the apartment in the picture

nana and papa were both really into lighthouses. must've been the navy thing

cocktail shrimp was her favorite food. seafood in general was her preference. navy thing?

fannie may chocolate and other sweets were always around

she was a lucky lady. had money during the great depression because her dad sold tea. went to the art institute of chicago. married a naval officer. traveled the world. lived in 11 decades (even if she only dipped her toes in the 11th). she was beautiful, independent, and unconditionally loving. not to mention the best grandma a kid could ask for- and the only one I ever knew

a good old fashioned burbon toast to Jean D'Arcy Kennedy Bent- Artist Mother Grandmother and an upstanding member of the greatest generation on earth

stranger things have happened

2009-12-31T00:28:00.001-05:00

can't predict the future. even for the scary shit.

I wish things were a bit warmer

but winter ain't so bad

thank god I'm a lucky person

danger song

2009-11-16T19:46:00.000-05:00

There once was a man
That cried like a child
He escaped and he ran
But the burn wasn’t mild

Then there was a girl
That was frothy and spoiled
Though aware of the world
He said, “Listen, child-

I’d slice up the moon
If you needed me to-
You’ve got a harpoon
That’s caught me right through
It’s the things that you do,
The things that you do,
I’m just not immune
To the things that you do”

She held onto her breath
In result of her fear
With a hand on his chest
And one more on a beer

Though clothing was scarce
And the kitchen got hot
She said she was scared
Though she liked him a lot

“I can’t hold a tune
But see what I can do
I’ll sing to you, croon,
Til you beg me not to.
It’s the things that you do,
The things that you do
I’m just not immune
To the things that you do”

She begged to move slow,
She was scared of the fast
But in the after glow
Those words didn’t last

She could feel her heat flip
From hot back to cold
For she tried not to slip
Into ways of the old

"It’s the things that you do
The things that you do
I’m just not immune
To the things that you do."

she bargains like a lawyer

2009-11-02T21:56:00.000-05:00

I hope you are aware
that I can see right
through your veins.
I like the place
it perches me.
I hope you're not afraid.

I have come prepared
to worm my way
into your brain.
I think it might
be working.
I hope you're not afraid.

I'm loading up the
deck so I can
finally win the game.
You've brought
a lot of chips.
I hope you aren't afraid.

I've sewn my mouth
to quiet while you
drove a girl insane.
But I'm not
crazy this time.
I hope you aren't afraid.

I strive to thrive
over you, turning
pleasure out of pain.
You can't go
back after this.
I hope your aren't afraid.

I'm sucking all
your blood, your
body will be drained.
Your platelets taste
like candy.
I hope you aren't afraid.

I'm lying on your
pelvis. I can tell
you're glad I came.
We both know that
nothing compares.
I hope you're not afraid.

brooklyn in the south

2009-10-30T01:29:00.000-04:00

I am going home this weekend! I couldn't be more excited.
there are some big plans, and lots of familiar wonderful things.

which should kill my writers block and I'll have something legit to post.
good things are ahead. home and halloween. a recipe for creativity!

hold on, I'm comin

2009-10-04T21:34:00.000-04:00

all I wanna do is
smooch smooch smooch smooch

As Kate Nash said in one of my all time favorite songs "I'm not in love, I just wanna be touched"

not in
but there is definitely some love.
being boy crazy is never great
but I've got some great friends
so who really gives a fuck
right?

gotta love on all the little things

graffiti is something I love

gotta keep it hood

don't trust a ho

2009-10-04T21:16:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I still think this is true
for us. But I'll have you know
right now, that I am over
you. I have new guys in
my life that are
way cooler and
better than
you.

P.S. As I remember
things, you're the
one that went
and fucked
it all
up.

say my name

2009-09-29T00:52:00.000-04:00

I feel I must suggest;
spell my name with an 'x'
it amps up the appeal of my sex-
new and different, demands respect
demands, commands,
so pushy, and damn
walk with con-fi-dance,
and I ain't got a man.
no, I don't I need one
so I can have fun
'cause with all the drama,
you know I am done
and when it's with men,
that's all that you get, hun
don't be fooled by my tools-
words I press together
in ways you ain't heard
Absurd? I concur
And yet I protest
Because I put in my best
It's this poetry thing
that gets stuff off my chest
Write it out, I say "yes!"
sigh with relief
to get out my piece
so I can kick back, release
so if I die tomorrow
I can rest in peace
knowing words that I'd leave
would give life after me-
not arrogance, memory,
(tying in ideas, you see)
so my diction has friction,
so I don't ask for permission
to share my verbose vision
to get out of the prison
and get close to my God,
I'd like to believe,
but it's hard
he's got no business card
so I grip to the shards
of truth in the stars
on mercury and mars
but down here, it's fast cars
how to get into the bars
and roll my tongue on the r's.
I can change up the scheme,
shock you with the next
open up to my dreams
or fufill a request
work on a theme,
an ending you don't expect.
I won't keep it clean,
so please spell it with an 'x'.

jai ho!

2009-09-26T14:03:00.000-04:00

nebulas!

I was trying to do these earlier

but I realized that they only show up as text while I type, and they turn into pictures once its posted

either way, nebulas are the coolest, and I love to look them up

on a totally unrelated note, I've been thinking very seriously about studying abroad, as has my room mate lindsey

I want to go to India. The program I'd be doing would be taking me to hyderbad at the university of hyderabad

only 2000 students, in a city of 8 million or so!

it's where the n. idian and s. indian culture meet

lots of cool cool stuff, including the largest film industry in the world

When it comes time to actually go, I'll post more. It's a long way off but I couldn't be more excited

ch-ch-changes

2009-09-25T12:10:00.000-04:00

tried to put up pictures of nebulas, but it didn't work. I'll put up some cool pictures or some writing soon, but blogger is being pooty right now.

switched up the layout colors and the title.
I feel like I need to make this cooler
I should write more.
My english teacher is very enthusiastic about my next project, which makes me feel good.
gotta go to class, I promise next post will be cooler and invlove pictures or something truly creative

let's go girl, this ship is sinking

2009-09-15T00:29:00.000-04:00

Will probs go back and edit this, but it's my first short story I've written in awhile, so I wanted to go ahead post it.

"How'd you end up with that tattoo? He questioned, tracing his fingers around the bottle of Cheerwine colorfully imbedded in her shoulder. He loved her soft pale skin; it was the perfect canvas for ink.
“I gave an artist money, and he tattooed me, same as everyone else.” She replied simply. He laughed.
“What I mean is, why a bottle of Cheerwine?”
“Why not?” She smiled and cocked her head, biting into a peach. Juice ran down the sides of her mouth.
“Did you get it as a memory from home? Your own tiny symbol of North Carolina pride in the big city?” He sat up, looking at her from across the bed.
“Something like that, yeah.” She bit in again; a little too close to her hand and sent peach juice sliding down her forearm. She licked it up from her elbow to her wrist, maintaining eye contact. He shuddered and took a deep breath.
“You are so beautiful. You know that?” He crawled over and kissed his way up her arm, the same trail her tongue had taken. It was still sticky, and he could feel the peach burning his lips, as he was slightly allergic. This time, it didn’t bother him. She laid down, her head in his lap.
“You’ve been telling me that since high school, but thank you. I get told things by men all the time, a genuine ‘beautiful’ is refreshing.” There was a pause. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, nuzzling his way to her ear.
“Please quit your job.” He whispered, pleadingly. She sat up slowly, pushing her auburn hair back and sighing.
“You know I won’t.” She kissed his mouth, and continued working her way from cheek to ear.
“Then why aren’t you charging me for it, huh?” He asked briskly, sliding his head away from her lips. “I don’t get it.” She sat back against the pillows.
“Chefs still cook on their own time. Artists create draw and sculpt for fun. It’s my trade, my art. Some have even said my calling.” He digested the words uneasily before he spoke again. It showed on his face.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why me?” In his head, he couldn’t fathom why a woman so beautiful who charged hundreds by the hour let a man as plain looking as him got special treatment. He looked across at big green doe eyes that were calculating an answer. She climbed across the strew comforter and pillow, sat on her knees and leaned right in his face.
“Because it was always you. When I wasn’t cool, hated myself, was spotted with acne, or was a raging bitch to everyone, you still did everything you could to try and spend time with me. Once I started working up here, I realized that I wasn’t going to be tending to the types of guys who genuinely make efforts to stay in touch with their high school crush. The men I work with have intense disdain for that sort of unrequited love.”
“Is it still unrequited?” He whispered, unable to maintain eye contact. She kissed his eyelids.
“Yes and no. It’s love…but not quite.” He looked up at the ceiling in a way that made her think he was looking for an answer.
“I can’t understand. I can have you clawing at me and screaming my name, but I- you don’t…” Tears welled up in his eyes before he could finish. She lifted his chin up with her forefinger and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Understand. It was fantastic. It always has been between you and me. I mean it. You’re wonderful, and I care deeply about you. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
“Then marry me.” He nearly demanded, with full eye contact. Neither spoke for a moment. “Marry me, quit your job. We’ll go to Copenhagen. Or Kingston. Cairo or Buenos Aires. Anywhere, we could go back home, even, to North Carolina. Say yes, Marilyn Jane Westford. Say yes.”
“You already know the answer.” Her eyes were apologetic as she squeezed his hand. She got off the bed, looking around for her clothes. He watched her slide into last night’s skirt and top, stuffing the underwear in her small clutch. The lace was poking out of one corner, despite her efforts.
“I don’t understand you. I never will.” He watched her struggle back into her heels from last night.
“You don’t have to.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his for what seemed like an eternity. His eyes begged as she walked toward the door, plastic key card in hand. She turned her head around to look at him before she left.
“You told me once that I was like Cheerwine with the way I got everyone drunk off happiness. That made me think, because soda is terrible for you. It looks sweet, tastes great, but it’s all camouflage for the poison. I got the tattoo as a warning label. Your analogies were always in depth and dead on. I’m no exception.”

she said she loved me, won't leave me, won't ever let me go

2009-09-01T08:38:00.000-04:00

"I love college! Ayyy!" Okay, I know that song is dumb, but that phrase does hold up. Found lots of old pictures and new ones. They remind me of good good times.

Jules, Me, Megs. Two of my lovliest ladies!

some DSA kids all decked out

emilie as Mrs. Norris

Tristan is so Sirius

Melonius and Leah B as house elves!

Amy, Maddy and I

BIG crowd

I think Jules took some of these

Me as Hermione

FAIRY

Some serious crowdage

Hail, Hail, the gang's all here!

a taste of SUUSI...the delicious doughnuts that K and I bought for the road trip. I could go for some right now...

Nostalgia, nostalgia. Classes are going well over here. I'm kicking ass so far, but I need to kick my own ass so I don't slip up. Spending lots of time with lovely people. Here are some of them:

The fabulous Anna Kennis, my room mate and a non-facebooker. She brought astrology books that are now my life.

Me in my brant-new 80s dress.

Lovely Lil' Lindsey May!

Maria and her purple daisy dukes (I know, I'm fucking jealous, too)

Linds, Taylor, Me Anna

Super Squad?

I think YES!

Things are awesome. It's easy to say that in a beautiful city surrounded by beautiful people. I better keep it real though and watch myself. I could end up becoming one of those

moonshine and pancakes

2009-08-24T20:12:00.000-04:00

my first college paper, I turned it in today:

The way my people used to eat were very different. One was sent all around the world, delicious home-cooked meals no matter where he was. He grew up knowing that sweet tea was to be brewed, a grilled PB&J was the way to go, and a beer after mowing the lawn was something to appreciate.

The other was stuck in the very same spot for 18 years, and the food put on the table was just that. She grew up knowing mom and grandma’s cooking, picking spaghetti for birthday dinner, and seeing a clear example of what too much booze can do to a man.

He joined the hippie movement- brown rice and eating gourmet on a tiny budget with his first wife, who only ate the M&M’s out of the trail mix.

She earned her way to college, eating whatever she could afford, and went on to Boston and to a catering job.

They met at a wedding, he was a guest and she was working. She captured his heart through her excellent taste in soul music after the death of his first wife. They raised two daughters, and despite their respective pickiness, we were all bound together by our love for food.

It was clear early on that I was a foodie. Telling my kindergarden teacher that my ham and cheese sandwich was a marriage of flavors, loving raw oysters from the first time I tried them, bringing bottled Starbuck’s frappachinos for lunch in elementary school. One kitchen renovation later, and I started to become aware of how important food was to us, as a part of family life. At this time, I also started to realize the other side, that many people did not sit down and eat dinner as a family.

As I got older, our unconditional love of food became more obvious, almost a joke. Planning out meals while eating, my friends and I cooking elaborate late night snacks. My preference of prosciutto, my sister’s obsession with goat cheese, my mom’s love for almonds and dark chocolate, and my dad’s penchant for locally brewed beer.

For my people, food is not just what’s on the table. It’s an on going history, an art of combining earth’s bounty into perfect human fuel. It’s something to look forward to. It’s the first question I ask when I get home, and one of the things I knew I’d miss the most in leaving home. It’s sacred and delicious. Hard work and well worth it. It ties us together so tightly because we love food and eating almost as much as each other.

I come prepared

2009-08-22T12:50:00.000-04:00

I've been a little absent. I'm sorry. I got whisked off to wilderness experience and then school started. I made it through my first week of classes, which is amazing. The classes are amazing too. Everything here is really fabulous, there are a ton of Durham folks.

But most importantly, my room mate and suitemates are amazing.

Here are some mini pictures

Lindsey, Me, Taylor, Anna

Us again, being silly

I'll put more pictures up as time goes on. I'll put up poetry as soon as I write something.

College is truly wild. I got invited to a party by my trip leader the first night back from wilderness. We backpacked, rafted, and canoed all week and then I got to come back to a fabulous suitemate, a nice hot shower, and a kegger. So much fun and nature all in one place. Asheville certianly is the place for me. I've met so many people who say they're from wherever but found this place and are staying here for the long haul. It really makes you think that the future is closer then I might like to think.

Boring post, but I'll make things interesting soon. Promise!

do you see a girl like me and a guy like you?

2009-07-26T01:23:00.000-04:00

I just got home today

I'm road tripping again tomorrow, to the beach

I came from Radford, VA for a week of madness

welcome to suusi

meet my pals

derek

ryan

elisa

devo

jakers

jake and sarah schmader

me, very excited with a rather apathetic jake schmader

Jake Squared

Jake told Jake that they should take a photo for their album.

this is the product

marveling at ryan's body hair

k and jake

they act so badass

but in reality

they're total sweeties

but we still break necks

some of us are gorgeous

then the dance parties commence

prom gone oh so wrong

k lookin right at prom gone wrong

office party! rather tame

rock n roll heaven. schmader was a kardashian, I was britney circa '99

"keep your hands offa my man" was playing, so devo and I had to stage a dance fight over jake

he was very confused

and all of us getting tasties at the local sleven

back at the dorm

things get wild

devo with willy jr

but we also sun worship

lookin fine

but getting wild. sarah likes my locks

momma with willy jr

and now even artsy

we're all happy campers

the week was awesome.

YA dorm was great

with the exciting chats

awesome caberet

some good times at cache

lots of late night nonsense

upon getting home and seeing this

it strikes a cord

things weren't perfect, but god, were they great

2009-07-18T13:08:00.000-04:00

Here are some videos I really like

"Do me a favor, call me 'jerk' one more time"

"I said 'In these shoes? I doubt you'd survive...'"

"I'm your biggest fan"

"Baby, I know that you're lyin"

"To be or not to be? NOT"

that's all for now!

what the fuck is bicycle?

2009-07-14T18:39:00.001-04:00

all of my electronics aren't staying charged for very long

why?

things have gotten really stressful and bad lately

but I'm going off to two weeks of straight vacation-time-fun

it's not going to be as good as the original plan

Ode to a Potential SB

2009-07-08T17:59:00.000-04:00

Hey You-

James Franco look-a-like,

Who knows what a jackalope is

And complimented me on mine;

With beautiful tan skin,

And brown eyes.

A manly jaw

And a nice body,

Taller than me;

Only smoke ciggs occasionally,

Who was maybe checking me out?

Who agrees that you don’t know

Someone if you don’t know

Their last name.

Who drove out to meet me

In a burgundy pick up truck,

Explained and pointed the way,

Even offered to show me the drive there;

And then stayed on the phone

Until I got where I needed

When I messed up the directions again.

Who understands what I mean

When I describe a smell as “dirt and chocolate.”

Who has a killer southern accent,

And has never attended Durham School of the Arts-

Wanna be my SB?

The Hardest Button To Button

2009-07-08T17:53:00.001-04:00

You are not easy

To deal with, tolerate.

I was on the verge of heartbreak-

But I realized I dodged a bullet

I don't think you're cute

With your new My Lil' Pony.

It's garish and phony.

You know Chinese plastic is toxic.

I'm not sure what to say now.

My thoughts won't enter your head.

"I quite honestly feel that our friendship is dead"

But "Fuck You" takes up so much less time.

I find it tough to maintain

The things like dignity, pride and class.

The truth is that you can kiss my ass.

It's all you ever wanted from me, so pay me back.

All I can leave you with now

Is 'goodbye', 'adios', 'chao', 'hasta la vista',

You fucked it all up, but it was nice to meet ya.

Incase you were wondering, I'm pretty sure I won.

can't live with it, can't live without it

2009-07-08T17:47:00.000-04:00

T-E-X-T-I-N-G,

I can't get you away from me.

A mini message easily sent

Is turned to minutes wasted, spent

On typing notes best delivered

By phone, mail, arrow bow and quiver.

Lest I sit while time must turn

Without T-9 word (which I refuse to learn)

I take my time spelling things out proper.

A bout of big news can be a real thumb-stopper.

Sometimes for gossip, updates on a plan,

I often wonder how folks text in Japan.

I love it, hate it, but always guilty

Of using and abusing the power of texting

international, oh oh oh ohhh

2009-07-06T17:14:00.000-04:00

Now, you are going to get an eyeful (I'd say earful but you're reading so yeah)

FROM THE BEGINNING

Megan sipping on her first legal drink (there are pictures of me but they're all bad) On Scandinavian airlines, you get a complimentary drink. I asked our GORGEOUS male flight attendant Stefan if the complimentary drink thing followed scandinavian laws or american ones. He informed me that scandinavian oil= scandinavian laws so "what would you like to drink?" We chose gin and tonics. They were delicious, and had Megs and I nice and tipsy for a little portion of the trip, while we creeped on Stefan and talked about how nice his ass was and discussed our need for european men

Miss Megs on the bus, rockin her shades that Sam adores

Josephine, strangely cheery as per usual!

Jeevan, aka "The Brown One"

Babby Ryne! We had to change his diapers and make sure he had plenty of Gerber's (mashed peas ONLY)

Thomas hates posing for pictures, but he decided to throw his bulls up

A shot of Copenhagen, downtown. The architecture and canals are so gorgeous. Scandinavia is beautiful, everyone should travel there at least once. I feel compelled to go at least twice. This is from our first day after breaking off for freetime, and the beginning of our hunt for Christiania

Miss Josie being beautifully photogenic infront of a canal

Troyjan, Jeeves, Babby Ryne, and T-Dogg

This picture essentially captures each of their individual personalities, especially on this trip

Another shot on our hunt to Christiania. This is another beautiful building with a cool statue, but there was a big protest going on. There were a lot of rainbow flags and whatnot so it might have had something to do with LGBT rights. However, Denmark was the first country to legalize gay marriage in Europe. Can I get a 'hells yes' for progressive politics?!

Another shot on our hunt. I just liked the green towers, they remind me of ice cream.

Copenhagen had some of the best street art I've ever seen. I love this one, very simple but so cute (I have a soft spot for dinosaurs, especially brontosaurases)

Momma and the Babby. We were all assigned roles. I was Mom (of course) Megan was the Enabling Father, Josie got obnoxious first child, Jeevan was our United Colors Of Beneton International Brown Child, Ryne the Babby (of course), Thomas was the Pervy...Uncle? Grandpa? One of the two. Troy was the obnoxious second child.

We sure were one big fucking dysfunctional family. Not always happy.

These flowers reminded me of Durham. Mainly Miss Mary Deal, because daisies are her favorite

Getting real close to Christiania, I found a big wall of street art.

I may have forgotten to mention this, but I have a serious obsession with graffiti when I travel. I seek it out and take a million pictures.

Wall shot. Siiiiiick.

FINALLY IN CHRISTIANIA. The side of this building looks like a fairy land, the whole thing. I couldn't get a picture of the whole thing, but it was amazing

DANK

I like the faded graffiti over the crazy cart. I'd say I got some rule of thirds on that one

I WANTED TO STEAL ONE OF THESE SO BADLY. I should probably explain Christiania, though. It's an area of Copenhagen where all of the crazy counterculture goes on: tons of art, graffiti, sex, drugs, rock and roll, all the things your parents warned you about. It's also a big park where locals go to smoke hash, which used to be legal, but is now illegal. We of course, tried to get some in the little market of Christiania where you are not allowed to take pictures. We made Jeevan go ask the guy who sold him a wooden pipe where he could find some hash and he basically said "Americans are always asking me where to get hash. Go away."

No hash for us 'Mericans in Copenhagen. Oooohhh well.

As we were leaving, I tried to get a picture of that graffiti, realizing much later that I got a shot of a dude lighting something up. Could it be a spliff? Methinks, yes

Okay, on to our second day. We toured this brewery area, but I can't remember why it's important

Megan and I infront of the elephants, the Copenhagen symbol for power and everything you want to be. Also the name of the highest honor you can receive in Denmark. Sweet!

However, these elephants were built during Hitler's reign in Denmark, so they have swastikas. Strange? A little, yes.

That tower REALLY looked like ice cream

This is a brewery. Those gold circles are giant brew kegs.

My only shot of the beautiful rowhouses along the canals in Copenhagen

Some crazy public art

and another shot of that.

The Royal Palace. A pretty big deal.

Can't remember why this statue is important, either...

YES, in Copenhagen they have guards with tall furry hats. They're pretty bad ass.

This one I'm in the picture with was SO HOT OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK. We had to stand a meter away. I asked him if they get asked for their pictures a lot. He said every day. Then I asked him if he'd like to make love to an american girl, he said yes, drove me in his mercedes and took me to his danish house on the water and then proposed and we're now happily married.

Oh wait, that last part just happened in my head.

God, he looked like a model.

ANYWAYS, the palace has BLINGBLING on it! Crazy!

Zees tiiinnnyyy little car vas just too cute!

All of us D-Town kids with The Little Mermaid.

The Little Mermaid. She's actually about to spend a year in China for the World's Fair. Our tour guide didn't sound too happy about it.

Another one of my favorite graffiti pieces. Simple and it makes you smile

I unfortunately cannot take credit for this masterpiece, it was all Josie. Troy told her she couldn't get a picture of him sleeping, and she did. He bet her she couldn't get another, and she did. Moral of the story? GIRLS RULE, BOYS DROOL

Kronberg Castle! Where Hamlet took place. It's a rather nice Castle

OH SHIT, THE CUSTOMS POLICE! We were driving and then Suzanne announces that we're being pulled over by the customs police and to keep quiet and no cracking jokes because they are the real deal. They just checked Charlie's (our bus driver) papers to make sure they were good and went on their merry way. Suzanne told us after that they can literally do ANYTHING to you. They can take your car apart and put it back together if they see fit. But I snapped a picture of them, which made me feel badass.

I would say FUCK THA CUSTOMS POLICE, but they totally let us go do our thing, so I'll pass

Windmills! Europe is all up on that alternative energy tip. All of the toilets have to two different flushers to save water.

In Germany! Lubeck, specifically. These towers were built on soft ground, so they're tilted. Funny, huh?

RAINBOW BUS! Charlie drove that bus like a mother fuckin' champ. We rocked the rainbow.

Das German Countryside, yaaaah?

So I decided it'd be a good time to creep and I ended up with a great shot of the happy couple.

IN HOLLAND! This guy who gave us the tour brought out a kitten. I died.

This was our tourguide whose name I never learned. He was essentially the Dutch version of Matthew the Wine Man (for all those '06 trippers to France) and he made all the ladies cream. And he made cheese. And clogs. Both of which, I purchased

COWS! Suzanne told us that because it rains so much, the grass is lush, which the cows eat making them very happy which turns into happy cheese. Yummmm!

A shot of a canal near the cheese+clog farm. How can you deny scenery that beautiful. I'd love to sail down all the canals, there are thousands.

TEEN GIRL SQUAD at a traditional windmill, which is actually now a house. The people who live there just have to deal with tourists coming all day and taking pictures.

Andrew, Alexa, and Kelly Colorado

Megan running to Suzanne, our bad ass amazing tour director, who we all adored and admired.

Teen Girl Squad with the Charlotte kids (Andrew and Alexa) and Suzanne. We got everyone to throw their bulls up!

A candid shot of Thomas taking a candid shot of someone else

Jeevs and Jojo. Beer on the bus was always acceptable

IN AMSTERDAM! A Dutch Tower. Lovely!

This is a houseboat on a canal for all the stray cats to stay, and different people volunteer and take care of them. Isn't that just great?

We found the perfect store for Thomas

Coffeeshop, very popular and high end. We couldn't stay and smoke there because it was crowded, but we bought some spaces cakes. A delicious dark chocolate sponge cake with a milk chocolate whipped cream/frosting topping. IT WAS SO GOOD.

Graffiti at the Neiumarket

and more!

In an alleyway. Couldn't resist taking a picture. Peter Dear tells me there's that same tag in Harlem.

A different market square, with bangin' graffiti

OBSESSED

as you can see

hehehe

and that's all my pictures. My camera batteries ran out in Amsterdam and I didn't want to buy more (I had already went through a pack, it was getting ridiculous)

The trip was truly truly incredible. Some memorable quotes include

"MEGAN, SHUT THE FUCK UP. I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS"- Thomas, drunk off scotch

"Maddy is great and all...but she's not Scotch" - Thomas, still drunk of scotch

"Guys, this is so happy!"- Megan, talking about a space cake brownie

there are others, none that would make sense up here. good times, despite that the group of people I was with never wanted to do anything besides get fucked up in the hotel room so megan and I couldn't go out. Nevertheless, lots of fun was had by all.

If you ever get a chance, go to Copenhagen and Amsterdam. They remain a tie for my favorite city. Germany had the best shopping, I got my rainbow leopard print zip up, and a really cute purse. However, on the streets of Amsterdam I did get a headband (currently wearing!) and a cute little purse that doubles as a clutch.

Done talking about all this, but it was wonderful wonderful wonderful!

eyes all stickin' like honey on bees

2009-07-05T22:54:00.000-04:00

I need to do a post for the europe trip

I need to do more stuff

like ride my bike more

or reading

like this book

I got it with a graduation gift certificate to the regulator

(I need to do thank you notes, too)

trying to write more, but I always end up just journaling, most of which I can't put up.

school was nice for writing because I had interesting promps which were nice

I really just need to draw off of my own experiences more

still trying to figure a few things out but I really have just one question

where that sb at?

the first poem I've written since school got out

2009-06-30T14:24:00.000-04:00

Not sure how to preface this...

It's PG-13 at least...so if you can't deal with that shit, then skip it

here goes:

Dr. Strangelove

I love the way that you moan

And how you breathing gets short

I put my body on loan

And you tear me apart

You'll kiss me for the thousandth time

Lips come soft against my skin

In synch- poetic, like a rhyme

Warmth glows on your cheek from off my grin

You'll grab me by the hair

And dictate my next action

We always fight, it's never fair

Yet we live for the satisfaction

I'll sink my teeth into your shoulder

Just so you'll shove me back in place

Will we play when we're much older?

Will I still crave your taste?

Eyes closed, bodies pressed

Neither sure what comes next

Except the promise of another caress

I've never had better sex

don't forget to sing in the lifeboats

2009-06-12T04:41:00.000-04:00

Graduation was today! Seven years at DSA are officially over, and thank God.

I got some sweet gifts, but this one was special. My cousin Laura decorated a journal for me!

The front

My BFF Lady GaGa with her Hair Hair Bow on the back!

I can't wait to take it to europe and write everything down! No losing it this time (I lost my first good journal that I actually kept up with in europe 2006)

In other news, project grad was basically lame.

A cop let me run a red light on the way home because it was so long. She took a right turn, did a three-pointer and then made a left where it was green. She said "You can go, just don't get hit"

My party is tomorrow. Things are still stressful but I am trying to cope. I'm really focused on my trip and having a fun fun fun time tomorrow.

I also got a book, which has the same title as this post. Its full of quotes, lots from people out of my AP Euro curriculum. Here is one from Erasmus

"IF you keep thinking about what you want to do or what you hope will happen, you don't do it, and it won't happen"

I think I should know by now

2009-06-05T01:05:00.000-04:00

I need to go to bed

The senior play is happening in a matter of hours. I am scared, but excited, because in my rational mind the audience will love it and not notice all the mistakes that will be made. In my director's mind, everyone is pissing me off because they aren't on top of their shit when I've told them to call me if they need help and they could have and should have done that by now. Tomorrow will be what it will be.

Dear You,

Fighting sucks. We're not good at it. But I'm not wrong. Neither are you, as you like to think. That is our problem. I'm allowed to be angry. You are blinded by your own stupidity (I have another term for it, but I'll save that for something else) Why are we so good and bad together all at once?

Love, Me

That was a poem, or so I like to think.

Tomorrow is my last real day of school. I'll be going back cause I'm a nerd and would like some alone time with my teachers, they've been real good to me. I'm DONE. It's hitting me. I need to be done. Seven years is seven too many.

Making the house music playlist was fun, I'm proud of it.

I'm going to bed.

Ode to S.K.S.

2009-06-03T22:31:00.000-04:00

I have spent seven years in this place,

Made and lost more friends than I can remember.

Of all the people who’ve been here as long as I,

All the people I’ve known this whole time,

You are the only one who I can think of

When I’m trying to think of

Who have I know best since I’ve been here?

What friend have I had since the very beginning?

The funny thing is

We didn’t like each other at first.

And I remember the Christmas decoration party

That I wasn’t invited to

But I didn’t really get it at the time.

And after that we went from

Thick as thieves,

And on the fritz;

There and back

A hundred times,

But a constant bond.

A sense of pack loyalty,

A solid friendship.

Seven years have passed,

And when I think of you

I think of someone who is beautiful.

Someone who has put up with

My asking, “Guess what I have for lunch!” every day,

And talking too much in class.

And someone who I’m sure is thankful,

For not getting mad over the razor sharp sarcasm,

Or the tumultuous mood swings.

Sometimes the green bile

Builds up, and burns my mouth.

But I spit it out, quickly,

Knowing and thankful,

That you are sweet,

And that more than

Cancels out the venom.

If you had talked to me

Seven years ago,

And made me guess

Where I’d be,

And whom I’d be with

For the next seven,

I wouldn’t have had a clue.

But looking back on those seven years;

I can’t imagine a single one

Without you.

Elegy for 3rd Floor Carr

2009-06-03T22:22:00.000-04:00

The stretching stairwell

Big windows would pour in light

The climb up a long and sweaty process

The sour candy of every student and teacher

Harsh at first, but deliciously worth it

A long hallway: one sided

Stretching across

Four rooms holding

The Gods of our school

The four teachers that

Everyone wants to hang out with

This floor a Mecca for

High school cool

Each room, wide

High ceilings with

Big windows that

Stretch up and across

Leaving a sense of nostalgia

Even on your first day

These classes are history

People, places, and sarcastic commentary

Every mouth cracks jokes

And teaches us the things

That we really need to know

I remember the first time I went up

It was before school, a morning club,

And I was a baby, a freshman

Bringing vanilla chai to my sister.

The room was filled with celebrities

And they were in the penthouse

And I couldn’t wait until I was that cool

And I would have my own club

Up in the only place for the coolest kids.

But even heaven can’t last

Because now the 3^rd floor

Sits uninhabited

A mere fossil of

Its once great glory

Aching to be visited again

By every true believer

In Durham School of the Arts

Soon it will be torn down

Like the rest of our

Dangerous and homey

Julian S. Carr building

Closing of the third floor

Has already bruised our hearts

The wrecking ball that will destroy this

Will smash our minds

Covered in lead paint,

Asbestos and the air conditioners

That shoot ice shards at us

I took a trip up the elevator once

And looked around the hallway

That means so much to all of us.

Most of the doors were locked

But one room was not.

I took a deep breath in

Of the famous and old fashioned air

And my eyes examined every detail

And I prayed that tomorrow

We’d all be back there

Making jokes and complaining

About the hike up.

I don’t get my senior year

On the 3^rd floor

I don’t get any freshman

Bringing me vanilla chai

Looking wide-eyed at me

And my friends like we’re superstars.

And I certainly never get

To go on field trips to

The nearest café with my

AP European History class.

The times are different now

We are forced into

A shiny new box:

The New Building

Children don’t learn respect

For the seniors in that building

Non-curriculum lectures are hushed

By authority strolling in

Every class period.

Creativity can’t plant itself here

The dirt is tightly packed

And sealed over with pesticidal plastic

When the 3^rd floor was a

Loose and healthy dirt bed

For the uncommon minds

To explode in a garden

Of originality, bugs and all.

There is nothing more we can do

But rip the New Building plastic

And churn the dirt ourselves

And pray that something

Inspirational will still grow.

Yah, Dahling!

2009-06-03T21:17:00.000-04:00

s my last post (which I will likely delete) was angry, I decided to take a trip down a happ

Seeing as my last post (which I am likely to delete) was rather upset, I decided to take a trip down memory lane and a look at the future. I'm going on a trip on the 16th: Copenhagen, Lubeck, Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris; it's going to be with some of my schoolmates and just an all around good time. I went on the France trip my freshman year, worked my ass off and saved a ton of money to go and ended up getting to turn 15 in Paris. This next trip should be twice as magical!

Here are some pictures from the old trip:

These British kids at the Mon-Saint Michele thought we were awesome. See if you can pick out the one whose thong was hanging out in the front. They thought we knew Paris Hilton and were downright smitten with out american-ness. Let's hope that happens the next time around (only older and hotter and sexy dudes instead of slutty girls) They were really fun and cute though

A lovely picture of Anna and Kathleen back in the day on my very first trip. They're goregous and photogenic even as freshmen

I think my single favorite part of traveling is the graffiti that is to be found. Kramz became our personal favorite, it was right across from our first hotel in Paris

My three best friends from school! The loveliest ladies I could imagine; honestly they're the greatest and this year and my whole time at DSA would be nothing without them

This has been the signature picture for my graduation. My mother says that it's very Mary Tyler Moore

My amazing tour guide Mr. DuBose (who will be on my next trip) with a certian hottie flight attendant named Xavier. Kathleen and I actually ended up in the back of the plane dancing to Madonna with the flight attendants. I was ruined as soon as some stupid american kids thought to play fall out boy.

And for the upcoming trip:

A canal in Amsterdam! It looks mesmerizing, and the trees remind me of Durham, only skinnier

Copenhagen at night! I'm so ready for the nightlife.

The Grand Palace at Brussels! It's going to be goregous (plus it's only $2 american dollars for a pint of beer whereas it's around $8 american dollars in Copenhagen and Paris)

Lubeck is a small German marine town. I'm very excited because the beer will be good and it should be laid back and rather pleasant. Some people hate the way German sounds, but I love it!

Some Amsterdam graffiti. I'm so excited to scout out my own and take a million pictures

Copenhagen in the daytime. Our first day landing is pretty much frolic around the city. I will be taking pictures of every fashionable person and cool thing for Miss Anna, and I will be bringing back lots of gifts for all my fleefs

Things are still super stressful, but I am trying to focus on the upcoming good. Today was my last real exam, so I'm rather relieved. Let's hope things are heading in a better direction!

go to hell girl, you make me sick

2009-05-31T22:57:00.000-04:00

The end of the year is so much stress. I feel as if some seriously unsettling things have been thrown at me. I didn't ask for them, they are thrown at me like baseballs, and I'm sitting in the stands with an "I don't like baseball so why am I here at this game?" t-shirt.

I am sitting in my chair and yelling things. Things I will not type. They run along the lines of

fuck you

Fuck You

FUCK you

FUCK YOU

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

This is a million things piling up on me I want to yell and punch people in the face pull bitches hair and scream and fight because I'm stronger and angrier and I could win based on that alone I'm sorry these lasts posts have been angry I wish I was one of those people who just put up pretty pictures instead but run on sentences and angsty poetry is my way of dealing, please don't even read this I shouldn't let things get to me its the end of the school year after all but fuck you I'm nice and you're being mean to me for no fucking reason this is straight up your fault and I will let the whole world know no I really won't but I will tell you, you is plural here it is not directed at any single person its many things at once

I made spanish tortilla for my AP Euro exam. It is 11:07 PM and I still haven't written my 10 sentences or less philosophy of history. I may not even write it untill tomorrow morning, I am that bad. I have not and will not study shit for the fact recall. I will be channeling anger into doing well. I hope anyone who is reading this is having a better day than me.

(the title is a song lyric, P.S.)

2009-05-30T17:50:00.000-04:00

I was given this award by leah at "everything is absolutely alright"

It says I'm supposed to give it to fifteen people but I don't really know that many bloggers personally so here goes

1. Graham

2. Tanaka

see I don't even know enough bloggers who haven't gotten this award already. I give it to everyone who reads this blog, because everyone should win awards they're a thing that is fun like that

I want to experiment with run on sentences like jillian but I might not be cool enough her poetry is amazing and I can't tell if writing like this is flattery or obnoxious cause she's kind of a hero to me cause her poetry is so vastly different from mine and I maybe need to experiment more does rhyming suck or should I stick with it I don't know what's going on anymore writing a run on sentence like this feels like how I feel right now I am sick of school and people and I there are things I want to say but I can't and I won't and I should stop posting angsty poetry on my blog I need to work on my short story if I had pretty pictures to put up here right now I would but I don't I hope you guys forgive this post unless it doesn't need to be forgiven I should stop now

Historical Fiction Poem

2009-05-30T17:35:00.000-04:00

I believe in a thing called "history,"

Rather magical-repeating.

Multiple mistakes made, how fun

The problem source must be someone.

I love to think that in their glee

Reality comes crashing, thanks to me.

Though I lose, I manage victor

Because my words make them sicker.

Right words, silent gestures, tilted eyes,

The beauty is I need not cry;

For I am rubber, steel and glue

Tougher, stronger, stranger than you.

I am not a simple shelf product:

Rare, lucky if you've caught it.

Might I be too strange for common tastes?

I am led to believe such is this case.

So while I wait patiently,

Despite the actions done to me,

(Inconsiderate they may be)

I scream, tear the ceiling violently.

You sit back: sad, guilty

Is that what I want out of thee?

Apparently...no

Head Over, Part 3

2009-05-07T22:58:00.001-04:00

“Are you sure you don’t need help carrying your things?

“If I got them in here all on my own, I’m sure I can get them out.” Roxanne looked up at Lincoln, who was visibly nervous as he talked to her. She flipped her hair non-chalantly and gathered up the last of her things. Lincoln reached out his hand to say goodbye.

“Don’t we still have an elevator ride together?” She questioned, peering through her frames.

“Oh, yeah.” He chuckled, looking at the ground. As soon as his eyes hit the ground, all he could see were the shoes. Her ankle sat perfectly, connecting to her model-esque legs. They weren’t skinny, more athletic, like a dancer’s. Her preferred the girls who had some power under them.

The elevator ride was all small talk, schools, hometowns and such. Lincoln wanted to pull out all his old flirty tricks, but he was stuck back in his middle school days. She did most of the talking, which was lucky because Lincoln could not have been more inept at this point. Roxanne would do one small action, and he was suddenly trapped in slow motion and locked on her. The way she would brush her hair out of her face, lick her lips, or turn to make eye contact. The way she would shift her weight, cocking a hip to each side periodically.

The elevator landed on the ground floor, and the doors slid open, nearly silent.

“Stay there.” She told him, while she set some things down on a nearby coffee table. She reached into her wallet and pulled out a business card.

“You’re new in town. If you want some advice on where to go, some company or both, give me a call. It was a pleasure doing business with you.” She had the look in her eyes that brought Lincoln to his knees. They were pale green like the shoes. He felt a little dizzy.

“Thank you, you as well. I’ve never been to L.A. before, actually, so I will take you up on that phone call.” He smiled at the business card, then at her. She shook his hand and walked out.

On his ride back to the hotel, Lincoln stared at the business card, letting the thoughts from the day pour through his head. When he arrived at 535 South Grand Avenue, an ambulance and cops cars were sitting out, lights flashing. Lincoln went to the concierge and asked what was wrong.

“Our head chef had a heart attack- he’s in stable condition, but we have to shut down the restaurant for tonight because of all the hubbub that happened before the attack hit. Some of our line cooks were- um, getting a little heated about something and started fighting. Some kitchen equipment got damaged. We are extremely sorry for this inconvinience.” Lincoln merely blinked at this news.

“So…your restaurant is closed?” He asked, dumbfoundedly.

“Yes sir, Mr. Stanford, we truly regret that news. We could organize you a reservation at another restaurant?” The concierge asked, already pulling out the restaurant brochure.

“I’ll take the brochure up to my room. Thank you.” His eyes were in outer space as he took the brochure and went straight to his room.

He turned on HBO but didn’t watch it, or listen to it. He left the brochure open on the perfectly made king size bed and traced his fingers all over the business card. Their conversation replayed in their head, leading himself into an inner argument. “She said I should call if I wanted company…but she couldn’t possibly- no, she couldn’t, I’m sure she has some plans for tonight…” He started dialing the number anyway. His heart pounded in his chest as the phone rang.

“Roxanne Warner speaking.” That confident, melodic voice spoke back clearly.

“Ms. Warner? It’s Lincoln. The restaurant at the hotel is shut down, and you said call if I needed restaurant advice or…” He hadn’t spoken like this, trailing off awkwardly, in years. He wanted to yell at her.

“Or some company? If you’re asking where you should go to eat, I’ve got that, but if you’d like some company, you should ask now because my evenings fill up very fast.” Lincoln couldn’t assess if she was flirting- the way she spoke was so straightforward, as if these were facts and not a part of the game. Either way, it made his heart race even more. He took a deep breath.

“Ms. Warner, I was wondering if you would like to show me a place to eat and join me for dinner if you aren’t busy this evening.” He could barely keep his voice from cracking.

“It’s Roxanne, and I would be happy to join you. Meet me at Angelini Osteria at seven o’clock sharp. I’ll make the reservation.”

“Thank you. Roxanne.” Calling her by her first name felt strange, even though she had addressed him as Lincoln after he had asked her to.

“You’re welcome, Lincoln. See you at seven, then.” Were her final words before hanging up the phone. Lincoln flopped back on the bed, heart still racing, asking himself why he was suddenly so utterly lame.

All there is for now. Did my first AP today, and I'm doing two more. This is the part where I send me to bed, I'm staying up too late!

Chi Town, Chi Town, we 'bout to show 'em how we get down

2009-04-30T00:19:00.000-04:00

My family in front of the art museum Lion. We have a silly inside joke about these lions.

See this lion?

It doesn't see you.

That's the joke. Don't ask me why it's funny.

Russian Tea Time! If only I could have gone in...There are actually a lot of eastern europeans in Chi Town

My sister and mom being disgustingly cute. Natty really takes after her.

Do we look like sisters?

Bubblegum Cigars! I don't know why I didn't bring them back. I swear if I ever see them again, I'm picking up a bunch.

We just drove past this resturaunt. I thought it looked so retro and beautiful sitting there.

If I'm lucky, I'll be able to upload all these really cool old photographs from the family reunion. I have one of my dad when he was a baby in a gay little sailor outfit. It's the greatest thing ever. And we also look a lot alike.

Still working on the Head Over story, but I did get at least a little something done. As soon as APs are over, I will be blogging like there's no tomorrow

Won't you take me to NIKE TOWN!

2009-04-30T00:05:00.000-04:00

More pictures! Nike Town!

My shoes when they were so fresh and so clean clean.

Some dope ass kicks
This look so citrus-juicy to me. YUM!
These remind me of a comic book. Try: BAD ASS!
This city is so beautiful, the river really makes it lovely
Double trouble?!
This one of the only pictures I really like of me. It was such a pretty day, even if it was FREEZING.
Natalie, my sister, seeing her twin. Shocking!!!
She's always been a great role model when it comes to sass

More pictures still? No me digas!

Like Summer Time Chi

2009-04-29T23:47:00.000-04:00

These are just the first of my pictures

A reflection picture of me at the cloudgate
The ever-so excellent cloudgate! The coolest piece of public art as far as I'm concerned
A shot of chicago
A shot from millennium park, a famous artsy public park in downtown chi
T-REX!!!
A funky weird piece...pig car?
Thorndike miniature rooms! Little tiny models of rooms. Lot's of ones belonging to names I recognized from AP Euro. They had a bunch of american rooms but NO NORTH CAROLINA! What the fuck? We are famous for our furniture.
My favorite painting! There was one artist, very creepy and cartoonish that I like, but his name is slipping me...
I saw this store and wanted to steal all those shoes.
A corner near my hotel.

More pictures on the way!

I go for mine, I got to shine

2009-04-15T00:09:00.001-04:00

I am off to Chicago, Illinois for the first time in my life in just a few hours. There will be three generations of Kennedy's and Bent's and it will be very very cool. I am quite excited and will post lots of pictures. In addition to seeing relatives that I don't know all too well, Natalie has lots of friends in Chi Town that I will meet. If I'm lucky some of those friends will be hot dudes that I meet under sexually charged and alcohol-available circumstances. Wish me luck!

The Palmer House, a famous hotel that got bought by Hilton. It's still historical and we can afford to stay there because my dad gets hotel points with his job

NIKE TOWN. My mom said my sister and I could both get a pair. I AM FUCKING PUMPED. I have never owned a pair of fly high tops.

A Bird's Eye view of Chicago. I hope the weather is as sunny as this when I go!

Evanston Township High School. The school my grandparents went to, and the same one featured in Mean Girls. My dad's side of the family is from up and around there, I am excited to see it.

A Bird's Eye View of Evanston

The inside of the Palmer House. I hope I don't look a fool in that fancy hotel.

On a completely random note, Snoop Dogg is coming to the Lincon Theater just two days before MC Chris comes back to the Cat's Cradle. Even better, the Snoop concert is the day after my final AP Exam. Still better, my mom said I could go, and MC Chris is on a friday, so there's no trouble there. The best part? I am this close to convincing my awesome psych teacher to join me. If he comes along, it will be the shit.

Oh and did I mention that Ben Folds and Girl Talk are playing FOR $FREE.99 at Duke?! Sooooo there.

Oh, and the last nine weeks have officially started. I'm getting close to the end of the school year! I honestly couldn't be happier.

Oh we has a slam poetry contest in my writing though lit class. My group piece won first place (Sarah the Goddess of Writing, Neff, Madigan and myself) and my individual piece won third place. Fun stuff.

That is all for now. I've had a bit of writer's block lately, I need to push through and work on that story, as well as other things. I will hopefully gain some inspiration from traveling; exciting things happening usually stimulate my imagination. Concert going will help too. Either way, it's excuses, and I need to quit makin' em. I promise I will post some creative writing soon. Bonus points if there are pictures.

Head Over, Part 2

2009-03-25T21:33:00.000-04:00

“Lincoln, honey, you’ve got to wear the uniform, it’s required.” Diana cooed at her thoroughly impertinent son.

“No, Mommy, I don’t wanna.” He stuck his bottom lip out and stamped both feet on the ground, arms crossed and clearly indicating that he intended to stay in the clothes he was wearing. Diana, not used to being an authoritarian or much of a mother, got up and walked out.

“Christopher, get your son in his fucking school uniform, I have to go to work!” She called, getting on the elevator to the ground floor, where the rest of the world toiled. Lincoln walked out of his room, gingerly peering around the corner for traces of his mother or the housemaid. When he was assured neither were there, he walked to the kitchen in his shorts and red racecar t-shirt that matched his red racecar sneakers. The sneakers made him feel like he could outrace cheetahs, which he knew were very fast. He pushed a chair and scaled the fridge, grabbing the cookie jar and nearly falling over. He snatched three oatmeal chocolate chip, and started strolling to his dad’s office, munching away. As he hiked up the stairs to his parents floor, he heard his dad’s voice along with another that was neither his mother nor the housemaid.

As Lincoln neared the door, he realized that the voices he heard were forming sounds and words that he didn’t really know or understand.

“Chris…Chris…OH, Chris!” The lady’s voice yelled. Lincoln stepped into the hallway, chewing his second cookie cautiously. He heard more heavy breathing sounds and inaudible noises. The door was cracked and he could see motion, but still had no description for what he was seeing. Putting the last cookie in his mouth, he looked into the door of his father’s office.

A woman sat on his desk, and they were doing the kissing thing that always grossed him out in the movies, but it was different. His father was standing up while this woman was on the desk, one leg over his shoulder and one wrapped around his waist. His dad had his pants part way down, and his shirt and tie were on the floor, and was pushing his mouth on this woman’s neck. He had seen his mommy and daddy kiss, but never like this. Their bodies were pressed too close, and they were shifting around, but not going anywhere. But the moving, the kissing, the nakedness didn’t phase him. Lincoln’s eyes were locked on the shoes the woman wore. They were “lady shoes” as his mother had told him. Black stilettos hung over and around his dad. Suddenly, the rules changed, as far as Lincoln could see, because the woman had pushed his dad around and slammed him down on the desk. The heels made her stance fierce, and Lincoln had seen her eyes as they had switched. They were like fire; sharp and intriguing like the shoes.

An arm grabbed him and a familiar hand covered his mouth.

“That’s not for you, mijo.” Myra whispered, walking him back down the stairs. She got him changed into his uniform, and gushed about how he would be late for school. But Lincoln wasn’t really listening. He looked down at his housemaid’s shoes. They were lady shoes- but not point or scary. They were squat and steady. They didn’t amaze him like the other ones. If my sneakers make me fast, then those shoes must make her be able to make daddy want to do the kissing thing, Lincoln rationalized in his head. Myra rushed him down the elevator with his back pack and $10 for lunch, per Diana's instructions. Myra put him in a taxi cab to school, and the day went on as usual.

He thought the kissing thing was gross, but his dad and the lady were different. Their kissing was like a battle; his daddy was a warrior and so was the lady. It was then and there that Lincoln promised himself that if he ever did the kissing thing, he wanted it to be a battle, too.

to be continued

Head Over

2009-03-23T22:12:00.000-04:00

Part 1:

"What could I help you with, Mr. Stanford?"

He looked back at a pair of red pumps. The heel curved just so and by God, she was a fucking 1940s pinup right in front of his eyes. She was the size, all right; and big loose blond curls hung down to her chest.

"Yeah, I have a meeting. A four o'clock with Mr. Biggs." As she started to look through the planners and call up to the top floor, he watched the way her legs turned as she moved her feet impatiently, as a woman does when she wear heels. He judged they were from the upscale vintage store on 24th and Main. They obviously weren't new, but they were in great condition.

"He'll see you right away, sir. He's on the sixtieth floor." She blushed as they made eye contact, and that triggered the swaggered grin he'd flash back, knowing exactly what that did. He turned and smiled at her as he got on the elevator, and she grinned like a goof and got redder. The elevator doors closed with a pleasant "ding" and a smug smile took over. His mind tickled the ideas of the ride back down after sealing in millions, mere pocket change as far as he was concerned.

The doors opened and he gained back his professional air. He stepped into a hallway, with large doors all along each side. There was a bell man and one assumed cop to man the doors on this hall. Officer Maybe spoke first.

"Are you Lincon Stanford?"

"I am." He replied, pulling his ID out of his pocket. Officer Maybe stepped back, and the bell man stepped forward eagerly.

"Right in here, sir. We encourage you to contact us if you need anything, their will be a buzzer for you inside." He bowed slightly, opening the doors directly across from the elevators.

"Many thanks." Lincon replied cooly, as he stepped into the huge meeting room. The wall was all windows, and it overlooked the entire city, the other three walls a comforting wood paneling as opposed to the plain white room. He walked up to the window and looked out. It was a sunny day, and you could see why it was the City Of Angels. The beach was nice from where he was standing, and palm trees were everywhere; people skated and walked. Some had dyed hair, or it was dreaded, and tons of women whose obsession was running in skimpy clothes on a daily basis.

"Nothing like New York." He sighed and smiled to himself as he stretched out.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm filling in for Mr. Biggs." A voice came through a door on the far left that he hadn't noticed before. Her arms were filled with rolled up drafting designs, rulers and a box of pens and pencils. She set them down on the table, pushing her straight red-brown hair back, showing off her rectangular black plastic framed glasses. When he turned he noticed they were Armani. He eyes were sharp and her features more angular, nothing like the girl at the desk.

"What happened to Biggs?" Lincon said, nearly in disbelief.

"He got called to an emergency meeting in Prague." She sounded bored with this news.

"Is Brandy alright?"

"I guess so. I mean, he's flying in for the intervention. His wife was upset, seeing her in the European tabloids, so she's having an intervention."

"Oh God, poor Brenda, she must be worried sick. Is it coke?"

"No, just an alcoholic." She started rolling out an sheet for an architecture plan.

"My name is Roxanne Warner. I'm Biggs's personal overseer for this project, and he said to work directly with you on this. You're...Stanford?" She asked, reaching out a hand.

"Lincon Stanford, pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands, and she walked over, sifting through files and explaining the progress made so far, all of which he already knew. He looked at her walking in a pair of beautiful green sling back satin pumps. Her pencil skirt was lavender, and her top white button up sleeveless, with ruffles were the sleeves should be. Lincon knew those heels. A pair of Jimmy Choo's that his mother had coveted. His heart stopped when he saw them.

"Oh dear God." He thought as he swallowed nervously. His eyes trailed along her gracefulfeet in those classy heels. The legs they were attached to could have been carved out by God,if he had known what kind of woman Lincon was dreaming of.

"So I hope all that makes sense. Are you ready to take the next step?" She asked, looking

up at him finally. Lincon rushed his eyes back up from her feet to meet her eyes.

"Yes, I am absolutely ready." His face was redder than before. She noticed and smiled, brushing it off.

He sighed and spent the next two hours supressing his hormones. It almost worked.

to be continued....

2/3X3

2009-03-10T23:49:00.000-04:00

An activity we're doing in class called a 3x3 "Revision, Creation, Artistic Expression"

All I have right now are Creation and Artistic Expression

Here is what I'm about to turn in tomorrow

Creation (The Bookshelf):

Sun Magazine October, 2000 pg. 41-42

I picked this letter because I struggle with my own body image. I am not enamoured with how I look, but I do appreciate my curves. It was so refreshing to read the story of a woman who gained weight and dumped her husband for dissing her.

When you see all the things a woman should hate,

I see all the things a man should crave.

You see muffin tops, pudge, and extra baggage;

I see Botacelli, Ms. Monroe, and classic curves.

When you say "Be like you used to be",

I say "Kiss my lucious ass goodbye."

I feel lighter already.

And I still look hot.

Artistic Expression (Dramatic Monologue):

This character monologue is based off of the female character in a recent freewrite entitled "Girl, You'll Be A Woman, Soon" (based off of the song title prompt)

Roger, I don't care. I don't care that you're seven years older than me, I like you. I liked you before we hooked up, and I like you after. I'm not one of those people who just drops their feelings. I mean, I wasn't planning to coerce you into hooking up- you're the one who made the first move anyway. And it doesn't even bother me that you were drunk. I mean, I had fun, and I know you did, too. Good Chemistry doesn't have an "18 and over" age limit, and I- I just feel right around you. And I feel like we have a lot of the same quirks and- I know that you're leaving for Chicago soon, and we probably won't see each other again. I don't know if I can make the age difference not bother you. You're leaving the day before my birthday. But we're friends before anything else, right? You and Nora have been insisting on getting me something, and I know what you can get me. Don't buy me anything- just pretend I'm your twenty some year old girlfriend. You know what, I would settle for piece on the side, too, you wouldn't even have to pretend to really like me. Call it whatever you want, but I- I like you. A lot.

A spur of the moment poem

2009-03-07T16:37:00.001-05:00

Jules at Candy Hearts tagged me in writing a poem that starts with the second letter of your last name. Here goes:

Exposed and open,

You're stroking my heart

And it's nerve-wracking

I don't know

If I can feel yours

But I'll gladly get my hands

On whatever you'll let me touch

I haven't written a poem in AGES, so please forgive its roughness.

I tag Anna at vintageveggie and I challenge my dear friend Austin to write a rap in the same fashion.

I'm editing a lot of fiction right now, so there should be some new posts soon. Luckily, Mrs. Van Dis likes a lot of my stuff. Whee!

Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon

2009-03-05T22:41:00.000-05:00

We did this thing where you write song titles that would make for interesting stories, and I realized that as a music nerd I can do a lot with that. Here is my first one entitled:

Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon

She teetered on sleep while dopamine flooded her brain and shock electrified her senses. She was hot, but never wanted the comfort of his arms to move away from around her waist. His breath rolled across her shoulders as he chuckled and nuzzled his face in her neck.

"You smell so good." He tiredly growled, hugging her tighter.

"Thanks." Her voice was quiet and shaky. She wanted to smile, but the same concerned look came across. "Thank God he can't see my face right now," She thought to herself, pushing closer into him and burying her head between the pillow and his cheek. Big callused fingers trailed themselves around her bare hips, silently appreciating every curve. A nervous feeling swept over her excitement. She took a few deep breaths in attempts to slow her heart rate, but being in his arms was enough to send her thudding into overdrive. She reached her hand around to feel his bicep.

"Nice guns. Manly. Finally, a Man. I'm so sick of boys." The thought fell out of her mouth in a moment of pleasure induced weakness.

"I don't know if I count as a man. A less stupid boy, yes; but a man? I don't know about that one..." She pulled his arms around her tighter. "Nora said your birthday's coming up soon. When is it?"

"The twelfth. this month." Her chest pounded and her mind shot into prayers of him not asking.

"So which one is it? 20? 21?" She could feel his smile glowing on her cheek. That only made it harder.

"No, neither of those yet, unfortunately." Anxiety was starting to crack through.

"19? Dang, I already thought you were 19, at least." He kissed her cheek softly, and she let out a nervous laugh that he mistook for enjoyment. "Well, the big one-nine. I still remember mine...Even if it was, what? Seven years ago? God, I'm old." He laughed for a moment before silencing his lips on her neck. Urgency churned in her stomach and she flipped around in his arms so their faces were but half an inch from each other. Their eyes locked in an unspoken conversation, leading to his grinning and colliding his mouth into her all too abiding lips. Their wordless exchange continued until she was out of breath.

"Roger, I-" She paused taking a deep, shuttered breath, "I'm turning 18 this month, not 19. I'm still 17."

That's all for now, folks.

Sorry there aren't any pictures.

2nd Quarter Piece: Song

2009-03-03T20:51:00.000-05:00

Once again, for WTL we did poetry second quarter and we had to write a song. I took the song We Used To Vacation by Cold War Kids and rewrote the lyrics for my piece. If you haven't heard that song though look it up, I am begging you. That song is incredibly good. Either way, this one falls along the lines of "juicy" and "scandal" and all that, so please, enjoy.

We Know The Effects

I stepped around your desk

Heart pounding in my chest

We felt the need

Then did the deed

Taste of you left in my mouth

Romeo and Juliet

Would've wished we never met

If they had seen

Just what we know

She's too young, he's too old

I know it's got to be

There is no you and me

It has to go that way

I know it's got to be

Even though it's hell

The secret we can't tell

It's sort of messed up seeing us stuck here

I never thought that things

Would turn out like this

But I still feel

The marks on my shoulder

I'll never be the same

We'll never be the same

Francesca and Paolo

Would have never known

Just what to do

With me and you

A sticky situation

We're too close here right now

I should leave the room

I don't that we considered the

Ramifications of our actions

Undeniable attraction

It's time for your reaction

Let's have that satisfaction

I know it's got to be

There is no you and me

It has to go that way

I know it's got to be

Even though it's hell

The secret we can't tell

It's sort of messed up seeing us stuck here

I never thought that things

Would turn out like this

But I still want you

To talk me into

Another screw

The desire is just too true

It's sort of messed up seeing us stuck here

I can't go back

To being near you with clothes on

But I'm bothered by

That ring on your left hand

I'll never be the same

We can never be the same.

Gotta love those teacher affairs, right? Makes for good writing anyways

Underkitten Revolution

2009-03-03T20:33:00.000-05:00

So you’re stuck in your chair, just you and your pen

Guys call you “chick”, but you’re not a hen

And mostly you just want a little respect

So you sit back and you start to reflect

On how and what and just where you are

Will you grow up plain or become a star?

Plan out your life, and don’t live a lie

Be smart girl, be slick, but don’t get too sly

Don’t forget to realize what you’ve got right in front

Beware of those predators out on the hunt

They want to tear you from the inside to out

But they’ll win them all with their hot social clout

When they really should lose if good is over bad

Why are they taking the things you don’t have?

Those girls will do just what they do

Never mind them, go on, be you

Be happy and free, cause you spend your time

Not stealing hearts or speaking in slime

But doing your thing and living your life

Forget every word, don’t believe the hype.

SLAM BAM, you’re back, utensil in hand

The teacher and paper and people demand

And time’s almost up, and are you creative?

Did you act up, freaked out, or sedated?

Are you cute and funny, or just really strange?

Asking yourself this can drive you insane

But you’ve been on that road for a good while

Freedom befalling at each marker mile

And it all boils down to how much do you care-

Do you laugh at these girls or just feel real scared?

You’ve been in the jungle, now you’re at the top;

Is another fierce female going to stop

You from yourself, your fun and smiles?

Are they twisting your thoughts like the radio dial?

If the answer is yes, then fight on my friend

And I think that you’ll find it is NO in the end.

A poem I wrote awhile ago. It's going to be in the literary magazine this year. I am still working on my fiction, and because I am really into these two characters it is hard to post anything new, so this is what I've got. I'm gonna try and write some poetry or a rap or something new and exciting to post up, lots has been going on lately so I should find some good inspiration.

More than six random things

2009-02-25T22:41:00.000-05:00

The wonderfully wonderful Anna tagged me, which I am very glad for, so here it goes.

SIX RANDOM THINGS ABOUT YOURS TRULY

1. I don't work at the Mad Hatter Cafe, but I like to help close up there and pretend like I work there. All of the staff and a few of the regulars know me.

2. I take a hip hop class at ninth street dance every thursday and it brings me so much joy, I feel like a nerd about it all the time. I burned my teacher a CD and we're doing a dance to a song on it and it makes me feel so fucking cool.

3. I have only read and finished maybe ten books total in my high school career out of all the books they've assigned in English. I've always gotten straight A's, too. How do I do it? I have no clue.

4. In my seventh grade year book, I wrote things over everybody's head. "Friend" "Cool" "Nice" "Weird". Talk about LAME.

5. Just this evening, I was watching politics with my parents, and they were talking about dog names (cause the Obama's are getting a portugese water dog) and I decided I want to have a big fat cat one day named "Chief Rocka" and quite possibly a Great Dane or some other large dog named "Lil Bit" or something along those lines

6. I have been at Durham School Of The Arts since sixth grade. That is seven years, this year. I COULD NOT BE MORE FUCKING READY TO LEAVE. I apologize for what must sound like me yelling in your head, but for real, that is how ready I am to leave. So. Fucking. Ready.

If either of them see this, I tag Annie at Annie's Sidewalk Cafe Of Unimportant things, and Mari at Venture Into The Mind of Mari. They are in my writing through literature class and both thoroughly awesome.

In the spirit of things that are random, here are some pictures and things on my mind

Do you remember "The White Rapper Show" on VH1, I think it was? Well, this is a picture from that. I really have come to the conclusion that my ultimate dream is to be a rapper. My more likely one is just a writer, but if I could rap.....God, that'd be fucking it.

And after some snooping on AA

These tights are GOREGOUS, so old school, and they make me think of Anna, which makes me smile and feel fashionable :]

I know they talk about the difference between a want and a need. I need shiny high waisted leggings, and my mother hates stirrups, and since I am too broke to buy my own clothes and have some credit at AA that we need to figure out, I will convince her. They're so so so beautiful and versatile and sassy and I just adore them

The bandeau body suit. I want it in black. It's foxy fierce, and I think I could rock it.

SHOES

These are just fucking sick

I saw this picture and damn near skeeted myself. I own no fly ass nike/adida high tops and my sister stole back the checkered vans. If only I had this beauty here.....

I thought this was a sweet picture

I am working with a lot of different stuff for fiction and I promise I will put up more of my creative writings soon!!!

MC Chris Owns! I Wanna go to an MC Chris Show! But he doesn't tour, so in the meantime I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes!

2009-02-23T21:26:00.000-05:00

As a long time fan of hip hop, my saturday night was a big fucking deal, because I went to my first Rap Concert EVER (I mean, unless you count Shwayze, but I'm really not counting it). I saw the one and only MC CHRIS at the Cat's cradle

Some post show pictures of me

Looking sassy for the concert

(To preface this, I know the signature is backwards, but just work with me here) So I went up to him after the show to get my shirt signed, and when I pointed to my back he said "Sure, as long as it's not too wet" and of course, it wasn't, and he patted my back and was like "Nah, it's good" and as he was signing it he said "I'm gonna draw a heart, because I love you" and my heart fluttered and then right after he was like "Give me a hug" and I FUCKING HUGGED MC CHRIS AAAAAAAAAAH! Talk about THE FUCKING COOLEST SHIT OF MY LIFE!!!!!!

Ooh, more sass

My Earrings I wore for the show, a shitty picture, because it's backwards

The man himself

Another picture of my husband/idol

The earrings I wore. I chose the ones that said "Juicy" because not only is that the title of one of my favorite Biggie songs, but they are also bad ass, and Juicy is a great word. Thank you, Beauty World (greatest store ever, P.S.)

The chain I wore to the show (also from Beauty World) MC Chris said he liked it. Eee!

A legit picture of my earrings

Anna being cute before the show

Strawberries! Yummm

A pre show picture

She's so fierce

Rocking out!

How can you not love a face like that? AAAAUGH, I had no idea I had such a crush on him until I saw him live....why didn't I get him to sign the front of my shirt.....

Basically, we went all the way around to the left side of the stage, and then I shoved my way up and I was in the front the whole time. I could have reached out, and touched him. I nearly did, but it's cool, cause we hugged after the show. He forgot the lyrics for some songs, and just started them over, like a champ. Also, he got everyone to different dances for songs, and had us sing, and he did stand up inbetween some of his songs.

I didn't bring my camera to the concert, I find those things are best left at home. However, the wonderful Anna at vintageveggie took lots of fantastic pictures. Check them out. Really, just check out her blog in general, it's awesome.

SET LIST @ MC CHRIS

MC Chris Owns

Blizzard

Geek

White Kids Love Hip Hop

The Tussin

Tractor Beam

Wiid

Robot Dog

Cookie Breath

Nrrd Grrl

Pizza Butt

Hoodie Ninja

MC Chris Is Dead

On*

Fett's Vette

IG88

They went roughly in that order. I might have forgotten a couple songs, but I think that's all of them. If you haven't heard one of them, or you don't know who MC Chris is, look this shit up. Nerdcore hip hop is so excellent, and MC Chris is really the greatest. Some of my favorites that he didn't do? Balastic, Evergreen, Hijack, Fucking Up My Christmas, & I Want Candy.

MC Chris kind of represents my dream career. He raps, and does stand up, and is a fucking bad ass. I want to be him, I want to love on him, I want him to be my best friend and my boyfriend and my mentor and my everything. He's just that good. I want to do what he does for a living. He is as real as it gets. And this is only making me realize that I am a fangirl to the max.

All in all, the show was AMAZING and I couldn't be more glad about going, unless I had gotten him sign the front of my shirt, and then made out with him. Cause that would have been even more the shit.

"MC Chris owns! I Wanna go to an MC Chris Show! But he doesn't tour so in the meantime, I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes!"

Character Through Setting 2/3/09

2009-02-10T23:39:00.000-05:00

This is the freewrite that is inspiring a current short story I'm working on. The prompt was to describe a character's room from the point of view of another

character. We were given a series of choices for the person we were describing: a blind person, a convict, as well as many others. I chose a senior on the verge of failing. As soon as I get a solid draft of the whole thing I'm working on with these two characters, I'll put it up.

Devin's room was as disorganized as his backpack, but this madness seemed to have method. His bedcovers laid unrumpled, so I assumed his mom stopped caring about his room once she found about his grades. A copy of Four G's magazine laid open on his bed. Graffitti, Guns, Girls, and Ganja

That right there was the only magazine he needed. His walls were covered in his own stencils he had made, the magazine clippings he intended to put up were strewn across the floor. All his laundry, clean and dirty laid in the far left corner of his room, right next to the shelf with all the spray paint cans.

Now that I had thought of it, he always did smell a little like spray paint. On the ceiling was his latest piece, his personal rendition of the Sistine chapel with God passing Adam a blunt. I realized that this must be what he did instead of school work. There was a tiny bookshelf in this huge room of his. Only a few books were on it. On the Road, Party Monster, and The Kool-Aid Acid Test amongst many graphic novels. I suggested some Ginseburg and explained that if he liked Kerouac he'd like him too.

"Books are your thing, baby. I'm just an artist." He'd always say. In the middle of the floor, all of his sketchbooks were sitting there. I grabbed one and flipped through it. The park and his boys skating, tagging, smoking, and whatever filled nearly every page. I flipped through every page of each book. I found one of me. It was just my face, big and smiling.

I put my feet up on his skateboard and rolled it back and forth, flipping through all of his art while I waited for him to come back.

Fiction Is Fun. More so than I thought possible.

2009-02-02T22:24:00.000-05:00

So we're doing short stories in writing through lit. I've been wanting to post one up here, but I've been to nervous. My first one will be back from Mrs. Van Dis soon, with her lovely critiques, and I will post that one up ASAP. This is just a little something I've started, and has a nice little end place. DO take note that THIS STORY IS NOT FINISHED. (I was going to put a picture but it's taking too long and it's late and maybe I will put one when it's not time for me to study for AP Euro.)

Enjoy!

"Stupid fucking broken elevator. Like they couldn't afford to fix it. It's the upper east side for Christ's sake…" Bianca muttered to herself as she hiked up ten flights of stairs in her Jimmy Choo's, up to her mother's flat.

"Dear heart! Welcome, Mommy's so glad to see you!" Margaret nearly yelled as she hugged her daughter.

"Mom, I'm eighteen now, remember? You don't have to talk to me like I'm five." Bianca replied, icily receiving the hug.

"Oh, God, you're right. I'm sorry. I'll be better." Her mother gushed as she pulled away leaving one hand on Bianca's shoulder. Bianca noticed that the other hand was gripping tightly on a Cosmopolitan.

"Wowee, mom. Cosmos? Well, it's five o'clock somewhere, right?" She said, as she took off her coat.

"Darling, you know the rules. Post noon is appropriate for drinking. And I know it's past noon, now. Besides, Mimosas and Bloody Mary's are pre-noon drinks. Those two only though!" Margaret retorted a little too loudly.

"Well, how about I get you something to sip on? What would you like, honey?"

"Get me a Cuba Libre, and we'll be free of my criticism." Bianca mused.

"Coming right up. Sy!"

Bianca's heart stopped. She had completely forgotten about her mother's newest boyfriend. Margaret's slurred yells could be heard from the kitchen as Sy entered the room.

"A Cuba Libre para ti, chicana." He coyly smiled. Bianca's face was swept with a big goofy grin and reddened cheeks. She loved the way he spoke, every word filled with perfected confidence, never trailing into arrogance.

"How's life after graduation? Do you know what you want to do yet?"

"She hasn't got a fucking clue what she wants to do with her life, Darling." Margaret declared, teetering back in, standing between them, her back to Bianca.

“But she does know that she wants to dick around for a year to figure it out. And with MY money for her rent!" Margaret explained all of this with hand quotes, letting the thick, cruel phrases drop out of her mouth. Bianca's eye met Sy's. He mouthed 'I'm sorry'. Margaret wrapped herself around Sy, biting his ear and growling "seductively". In the trashed sort of way that tells everyone else what a sad person you are. With her blood near boiling point, Bianca forced her mouth to stay shut as she fought the urge to start a catfight.

"Hon, we've had a big day, you seem tired. Do you want to go take a nap? Don't forget the company ball tonight." Sy cooed, pulling her off him.

"Oh God," she rolled her eyes, "That thing. Well, a nap does sound nice right now…" Margaret continued to mutter to herself as she stumbled into her bedroom. There was a long pause. Had Bianca not been so angry at her mother, she would have been paying attention to how Sy had olive undertones in his skin, and that his eyes were dark green, and played off of his rich brown hair. Instead, she gulped down, and felt the rum and lime juice warm her stomach.

"Sorry about her. The week's been really big so she's been…. uh, really letting loose today." Sy quietly said, scratching his head and walking towards Bianca.

"I mean, I lived with her for nearly eighteen years. The only partying she does is the hard kind. I'm used to it." She coldly replied, staring into her near empty drink.

"Well, what are you thinking about doing in the future?"

"I mean, when I was living with Margaret, we always had a chef, but whenever I stayed with Dad, he'd always cook. I always helped out, but I never learned anything. I've been looking at cooking schools, but I don't want to go in without any experience, so I'm looking at some informal cooking classes, just to get a feel for it." Bianca looked up, seeing Sy staring and grinning.

"Bianca, did Margaret never tell you that I'm a chef? I can give you lessons if you want." And with a single flash of those million dollar teeth, Bianca’s head was reeling into the realm of possibility. Her and Sy. Alone. All six feet and four inches of the Amazon God. Her insecurities made her doubt her ability to attract him, but her raw determinate desire made her decide that seducing him was a must. “What better way to his pants than through his stomach?” She thought to herself. She stared straight into the forest green eyes of his.

“I think that’s a great idea. When can we get started?"

The fifties did happen, you know

2009-01-27T22:36:00.001-05:00

The Notorious Bettie Page

Dearest Marilyn,

To believe that you were the standard of beauty. That you can not have a flat stomach, have your thighs touch at the top, have curves all over, wear a size ten and be the hottest sex symbol in America. I am in the wrong time period. Send me to where you can wear a size ten and it's no problem. Send me to a time where you can have an hourglass figure, and it gets appreciated.

I'm stuck here. I'm you, Marilyn, but I'm stuck in now instead of then. I appreciate you, M. I appreciate me. I appreciate all shapes and sizes. Why don't other people appreciate back? Who decided that the only pretty was stick

thin?

These pictures remind me that you are real. You were not petite, you had curves and you were fucking proud. And you were the hottest thing since sliced bread.

I like my curves. I like my hourglass figure. I like my chest and my legs and my thighs. I will not waste your time telling you what I don't like about me.

I think I will start channeling you to make me confident now, while I wait through weeks of my getting in shape. That shit don't happen overnight you know. But you give me hope, girl. You and Bettie, and all those ladies. I had another picture of you that was so beautiful and you were so curvy but my computer is dumb and won't let me upload it. I'll show it later if I can.

You Are Beautiful, M.

And if you did it, so can I

2009-01-27T07:14:00.000-05:00

"I honestly couldn't care less if you like the same bands or you've read the same books. Tell me one original thing, tell me one true, real thing that brings me to my fucking knees that I've never heard before and I'm yours."

Haven't heard anything that great in a long time.

Check out this blog, it's really beautiful: http://pleasefindthis.blogspot.com/

I will post soon. About A strange dream I've had or another poem if there is one. We're starting fiction in WTL. It is fucking difficult, but I am trying and hopefully I will produce something worth putting up here.

Here I am being a procrastinator at 7:20 in the fucking morning, putting off both my psych and math homework and I have to be at school early. what the fuck.

I will make a post later tonight that is less bull and more rad, including my Taming Of The Shrew rap I did for my English project. If I become a rapper guys, my name will be LaXandra. Watch out!

Oh, the strange pasts we all have

2009-01-13T21:53:00.000-05:00

After reading Dear Diary by Lesley Arfin (which I highly reccomend, if you enjoy cautionary tales, or have ever kept a diary of any kind. Really, it's an excellent book, please read it) I was inspired to go back and find my own journal and re-read it. Well I did, and some of it was hilarious, but it mostly reminded me of times that I wish did not exist. Maybe I will find it funnier when I'm older. Either way, it was very interesting to see how I've changed since 2006, and now I am very inspired to start writing in my journal again.

Also, my Writing Through Literature class (the reason why I have the blog and started writing poetry) now has a blog so you can read all of the other things the people in the class write. Our class is very tal

ented, some people are incredible and if you have time, check it out: http://writingthroughlit0809.blogspot.com

I just posted a poem on there, an Elegy that I feel very attached to (for all you DSA-ers, it is about the 3rd floor of the Carr building) and I will not post it here because there is no point in posting the same thing twice.

This is the only picture I could find. Since my Long Term Project is all poems from DSA, I will put a corresponding picture with them, once I get good pictures. I will add one of the subject of my Ode To S.K.S. and add it up there.

Exams are moving quickly and I am about to be a second semester senior. Scary, but I am more ready to be done with school than ever.

I finally figured out how to add pictures, so here is some photobooth jambalaya

2009-01-07T21:56:00.000-05:00

A picture I took tonight. I am growing my hair out long. I seem to be doing a pretty good job of it!

Madigan and I having a little fun, as you can see

Some pictures of myself from ages ago. I like these because you can tell my eyes are two different colors in them

Mary an I having fun with the effects

And of course, my amazing wonderful excellent bad ass mother.

So I was really confused as to how one puts pictures on their blog, but now I understand. This is just my trial run. I promise future pictures that will provide much more intrest. This was just a little taste of me for you!

Edited Villanelle

2009-01-07T21:52:00.000-05:00

Your Violent Kiss

I'm enamored by your violent kiss

I stand here entranced and willing

I find you are something easily missed

My better judgement does not approve this

My tangled thoughts are spilling

I'm enamored by your violent kiss

Our words will fall in a tumbling hiss

Our desires, we'll both be fufilling

I find you are something easily missed

On our moments, I notice that I reminisce

Your fleeting touch is just to thrilling

I'm enamored by your violent kiss

I see myself drowning in a muddles abyss

Whenever you're gone it's killing

me, I'm enamored by your violent kiss

I find you are something easily missed

2008-2009 Transition

2009-01-01T23:06:00.001-05:00

Holy shit, it is the new year: Two Thousand Nine

I'm not usually one to do this, but here are some resolutions

1) Get In Shape. Seriously. (I have this feeling that I could be a super fox if only I were in shape)

2) Prioritize. My sanity at the top, school work, the rest of me, and then everything else after that

3) Stop caring about shit that does not fucking matter. Hopefully since I am now officially a second semester senior who knows where she is going to college, this will not be too hard.

4) Organize my shit. Room, school, brain (if that last one is possible)

5) Continue on accepting the fact that I really suck and that I am also a pretty cool person.

6) Get Laid (I'm being honest wether you like it or not) and not someone who sucks. Someone who is legitimately cool (or at least not a total asshole), who is potential boyfriend material, and who is a man who knows what he wants and not some pussy ass bullshit boy who can't hardly tie his own shoes let alone deal with girls and does not have a crush and/or start dating one of my friends.

7) Start really speaking my mind and saying and doing what is best for me. I am the only person I've got and I'd better start getting better and standing up for me because maybe if I'm better standing up for me will be easier cause I'll like me a lot more and feel more intrinsic motivation to do so.

8) Only take school as seriously as I need to. And make sure I don't slack off on what I need to do.

9) Write the senior play and make it so funny that people will risk peeing their pants with laughter. I'm exaggerating (slightly), really just write it all and make it funny.

10) Be healthier. In every way shape and form.

11) Kill my sweet tooth if it's the last thing I do. And you know what? It probably will be.

12) Earn some money, and start figuring out where/how to buy cute clothes for cheap, as well as save up for Europe.

13) Stop caring about other people, as well as stop caring about how weird I must appear to others. I'm a freak. I've always been a weirdo. It's not different now, and I might as well own it because I do have some seriously excellent friends and the more I think about it we're all freaks and what I'm saying has been said a thousand times before but who really cares how many times it's been said because it still holds true, right?

14) Write every single day. Something. Anything.

15) Well, this last one, I can't actually put up here. The people who know me well know what it is, and probably people who don't know me well know too (small art school=more gossip than you will ever know). But let me say: I have a goal and by all means I will accomplish it. I Will Win.

Looking back on all of 2008 and in all honesty, it fucking sucked except that Obama won the election. Oh, and the cast of SNL has been really good this year. 2008 encased the end of my junior year, My entire amazing summer, and the beginning of my senior year. But now it's not the beginning. It's the beginning of the end of my senior year. Semester one is practically over, and it's a common fact that second semester of every school year flies by faster than you realize. Anyway, I say good fucking riddance, 2008 and and hello, sweet and hopeful 2009.

This is now the year that I graduate from a school that I've been in for seven years.

This is now the year that I will go on a European vacation and go nuts.

This is now the year that I will attend my dream school in the fall because, yes, I did get accepted, and yes, my dream school is a public school and yes, I do feel like I have to fight for the legitimacy of my school.

This is now the year that I will leave the place that holds way too many memories and people that I am all too familiar with and still know nothing about. This still gives me the willies and I'm not sure why because I have never been so excited to leave high school.

Two thousand eight,

I don't mean to berate

You, but I anticipate

That the truth is innate

And that you won't escape

This hideous fate

Time won't procreate

But will remain in a state

That is bound to create

Moving tectonic plates

Providing almost clean slates

But trust me and wait

Try not to debate

But just have some faith

That nature holds weight

And things still can be great

Two thousand nine,

You seem so divine

But I fear a decline

In thoughts that combine,

In stars that will shine,

In earth concious designs

For you see, my heart pines

For a chance to define

What could really be mine

Fear crawls up my spine

And I fear it's a sign

That things are not fine

That my hope should resign

And I try not to whine

But I will refine

To go along with the times

The poem I promised for my favorite girl :]

2008-12-28T18:46:00.000-05:00

So I hear that you two are taking a camping trip?

I hope you won't mind if I come with.

No, it's not a question

It's more than a suggestion

Hah, we've got the plan

So I'll get my man

At least, I think I can

But you might have slipped

Into the poison grip

Of that baby bitch

That slut makes me itch

But look she's so sweet

Oh wait, that's why you got swept off your feet

I guess all guys like some sugar that easy

But after ten minutes, how are you not queasy?

Ok, now we've got the fire

And she's got your desire

You brought me a friend

That's nice, but I'm not interested

But that cup that was filled

Is making him thrilled

And we're talking and joking and flirting too?

Are we really discussing if I'm a Jew?

This night feels so strange

My thoughts are all derranged

Let's try and sleep

Shit, my hair just won't keep

All in one place

Boy, get out of my face!

Stay away from my neck

GOD, will those two learn some respect?

Or is it us because we're the ones talking?

Next morning comes and we're all walking

Our separate way, and you know what? That's fine

You go get yours, cause I'm still getting mine

Maybe not today, tomorrow or the next

But you better believe once I get the best

I'll be getting better than you'll ever know

Time to find a new boy, not too fast or slow

And once I find him, you know what he'll be?

The luckiest guy, cause that boy will have me

refrigerator magnet poetry inspiration

2008-12-27T19:59:00.000-05:00

If the phone don't ring

Then you'll know it's me

Oh no, she's acting single

And I'm drinking doubles

If love were oil, I'd be a quart low