I've the intention to close down this blog, or rather, leave it hanging, and begin a new one. I've a handful of subscribers, so if you are interested in continuing to follow my ramblings, email me and I'll send you the link.
In the meantime, and in closing, allow thousands of words to be translated by these photographic clues of my Life Lately:
her name is Bijou Ennui, because she is shiny and tiny, and sleeps so much she must be completely bored of life. We call her Bebe for short, but Bijou is fun to say. And yes, thats whats-his-face from what-are-they-called.
sigh.
yeah stumptown. Stump. Town.
learn some kids
current mod: relieved
current music: grace potter & the nocturnals - never go back
lady*cakes
tales from a struggling art student
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
what happens when you're: born in central america, raised in france, schooled in hollywood, and escaped to san francisco...
I stood upon the platform in vain
The Puerto Ricans were playing you salsa in the rain
With open doors and manual locks
In fast food parking lots
I'm heading North, I'm a gal on the move This city's lied to me, I'm seeking the truth I need somebody, need someone I can trust
Cos you told me I was like the Dead Sea You'll never sink when you are with me I'm like the Dead Sea They were the finest words youve ever said to me Honey can't you see I was born to be, your Dead Sea
You told me I was good at running away I left with just the clothes on my back Cos I left the rest for you while I took a map for myself
Yes, there are times we all live for somebody else But my lover left, and so I decided to live for myself I just felt I just felt it was time And I'm glad, cause that's just not right
Now yes, I've been down, I've been defeated But there was a message I was heeding Would I stay the night?
But honey cant you see I was born to be be your Dead Sea
Its been real, folks. But its time for me to move on. Master's degree in hand and all.
Cheers. Youve all been "Quite Lovely".
I'm heading North, I'm a gal on the move This city's lied to me, I'm seeking the truth I need somebody, need someone I can trust
Cos you told me I was like the Dead Sea You'll never sink when you are with me I'm like the Dead Sea They were the finest words youve ever said to me Honey can't you see I was born to be, your Dead Sea
You told me I was good at running away I left with just the clothes on my back Cos I left the rest for you while I took a map for myself
Yes, there are times we all live for somebody else But my lover left, and so I decided to live for myself I just felt I just felt it was time And I'm glad, cause that's just not right
Now yes, I've been down, I've been defeated But there was a message I was heeding Would I stay the night?
But honey cant you see I was born to be be your Dead Sea
Its been real, folks. But its time for me to move on. Master's degree in hand and all.
Cheers. Youve all been "Quite Lovely".
Sunday, October 14, 2012
unbreakable
In life, it'd be safe to say that I was dealt a shitty hand.
Hmm. In fact, that statement is so saturated with painful context that my eyes welled up before I had even finished typing it.
On more than one occasion, and by more than one person, I've been called "a survivor".
Life has denied, destroyed, shattered, consumed, damaged, maimed, jaded, burned, and abused me.
Some days, I wonder how the fuck I'm still here.
Then I realize its cos: Each time Life has knocked me down, I've calmly gotten back up, smiled, and very politely said: "You hit like a LITTLE BITCH".
Hmm. In fact, that statement is so saturated with painful context that my eyes welled up before I had even finished typing it.
On more than one occasion, and by more than one person, I've been called "a survivor".
Life has denied, destroyed, shattered, consumed, damaged, maimed, jaded, burned, and abused me.
Some days, I wonder how the fuck I'm still here.
Then I realize its cos: Each time Life has knocked me down, I've calmly gotten back up, smiled, and very politely said: "You hit like a LITTLE BITCH".
Saturday, September 22, 2012
anatomy of a loser/ a cautionary tale for city gals
Recently I was re-contacted by a scrub I non-dated a handful of months ago. What does that mean, exactly?
Well, a scrub is defined in urbandictionary.com as:
A scrub is a guy that thinks he's fly
And is also known as a buster
Always talkin' about what he wants
And just sits on his broke ass
see also: A loser with nothing to offer a woman.
And to 'non-date' somebody means that I met him at a work event, watched him chew with his mouth open, but then happily received the huge compliments he proceeded to send my way via text. Hey, don't judge me; my self-esteem isn't the greatest, and sometimes a gals just gotta take it where she can get it.
Anyway, I'd effectively ignored him and in fact completely forgotten about him until he texted me the other day. It reminded me of what a loser scrub he'd been. It was just so sad, you guys, that I thought I'd warn my gal pals and readers alike, what to watch out for should one of these poor scrub suckers cross your path.
Sigh. I know.
So what's a girl to do?
Eh, you send him this: Is that not playing? Its Those Dancing Days "Fuckarias". Here: Enjoy. ;)
Well, a scrub is defined in urbandictionary.com as:
A scrub is a guy that thinks he's fly
And is also known as a buster
Always talkin' about what he wants
And just sits on his broke ass
see also: A loser with nothing to offer a woman.
And to 'non-date' somebody means that I met him at a work event, watched him chew with his mouth open, but then happily received the huge compliments he proceeded to send my way via text. Hey, don't judge me; my self-esteem isn't the greatest, and sometimes a gals just gotta take it where she can get it.
Anyway, I'd effectively ignored him and in fact completely forgotten about him until he texted me the other day. It reminded me of what a loser scrub he'd been. It was just so sad, you guys, that I thought I'd warn my gal pals and readers alike, what to watch out for should one of these poor scrub suckers cross your path.
WHAT HE SAID | THE THINLY VEILED TRUTH |
“I work in the media production industry” | He works part-time at an A/V rental place. |
“I live in Redwood City cos I’m helping my mom out, but I have a weekend place in the city” | He lives with his mom cos he can’t afford his own place, and he sleeps on his friends couch when hes too drunk to drive home. |
“Your friend harassed me by texting me 10 times a day for multiple days in a row” | She asked him to stop calling. She asked once. |
Sigh. I know.
So what's a girl to do?
Eh, you send him this: Is that not playing? Its Those Dancing Days "Fuckarias". Here: Enjoy. ;)
Monday, September 17, 2012
Fall(ing)
'you didnt think you could get away with that forever, did you?'
---and other lies my drunken self writes on my walls It frustrates me that some boys will remember me, mistakenly, as someone who loved them. Because the truth is, those particular boys?- I've always been, and will be, just a little bit out of their reach.
You see, Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting them not to.
And though I gave away the power, I never trusted a soul. Now, I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize myself. My hair, my body, my composure- we are all strangers to each other. Nobody that knew me even six months ago could place me now. I don't know yet if I prefer it this way. But the weather is changing and I can cover myself with layers of sweaters again, and hide behind stacks of books and piles of journals. Autumn brings with it my emotional hibernation, and there is comfort to be found in the changing colors of the trees, undressing their leaves; falling. "You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain."
-The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, Emilie Autumn current mood: solstice'd
current music: grace potter and the nocturnals - never go back
---and other lies my drunken self writes on my walls It frustrates me that some boys will remember me, mistakenly, as someone who loved them. Because the truth is, those particular boys?- I've always been, and will be, just a little bit out of their reach.
You see, Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting them not to.
And though I gave away the power, I never trusted a soul. Now, I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize myself. My hair, my body, my composure- we are all strangers to each other. Nobody that knew me even six months ago could place me now. I don't know yet if I prefer it this way. But the weather is changing and I can cover myself with layers of sweaters again, and hide behind stacks of books and piles of journals. Autumn brings with it my emotional hibernation, and there is comfort to be found in the changing colors of the trees, undressing their leaves; falling. "You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain."
-The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, Emilie Autumn current mood: solstice'd
current music: grace potter and the nocturnals - never go back
Monday, September 3, 2012
day 4 and maybe i'm a little cranky. WHAT?! i said MAYBE
So I'm all for fresh starts and renewals, but this Master Cleanse is BULLSHIT. It fucking sucks. So just between you and me, I ate a few pieces of fruit here and there because:
- i love fruit
- i am fucking hungry all. the. time. right now
Anyway, when I went to the grocery store to buy said pieces of heavenly glucose, I noticed the big NOTICE sign:
"As of October 1st, 2012, (THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE MOTHERFUCKING) city of San Francisco paper grocery bags will cost 5 cents A PIECE. Thats right, bitches, FIVE cents EACH"
ok maybe I paraphrased that sign, but really, thats how I remember it.
After my initial 'gah!', 'pfft!', and multiple eye rolls, my snarky cranky ass set to work looking for decently attractive, maybe even stylish, reusable bags; because my hungry, foggy brain INDEED thinks spending $200+ on various designer bags is just fine, thankyouverymuch because I am saving the PLANET, here!
Anyway, heres what I'm buying. (And if youre a friend of mine, expect one or more of these for xmas).
For the hipsters:
MINE:
current mood: still cranky as all fuck.
current music: cranky mccrankerpants - in the key of cranky
- i love fruit
- i am fucking hungry all. the. time. right now
Anyway, when I went to the grocery store to buy said pieces of heavenly glucose, I noticed the big NOTICE sign:
"As of October 1st, 2012, (THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE MOTHERFUCKING) city of San Francisco paper grocery bags will cost 5 cents A PIECE. Thats right, bitches, FIVE cents EACH"
ok maybe I paraphrased that sign, but really, thats how I remember it.
After my initial 'gah!', 'pfft!', and multiple eye rolls, my snarky cranky ass set to work looking for decently attractive, maybe even stylish, reusable bags; because my hungry, foggy brain INDEED thinks spending $200+ on various designer bags is just fine, thankyouverymuch because I am saving the PLANET, here!
Anyway, heres what I'm buying. (And if youre a friend of mine, expect one or more of these for xmas).
For the hipsters:
MINE:
current mood: still cranky as all fuck.
current music: cranky mccrankerpants - in the key of cranky
Friday, August 31, 2012
not without a fight
I could call it the first day of the rest of my life. Or I could call it finally letting go.
I'm so sick of my past heartbreaks defining who and what I am. Not too long ago, I had a car problem, and the mechanic asked me when my last oil change had been.
My response?
"Well, lets see. I remember being hungover cos so-and-so had just dumped me, so I would say, about a year ago?"
He looked at me and gave an "Hmph; measuring time by your love life. thats new."
Coping mechanisms have piled on and lined up, and they've each failed me, igniting a domino effect of self-loathing and vacancy. In their wake, I've been left a shell of who I know myself to be. I just couldn't take it anymore.
So I decided to get my Life back. Ive pulled myself up from the pathetic swamp of failure before, and I know I can do it again. I woke up with a renewed angst today, ready to take on whatever Damage I've managed to layer on myself, and peel it back, peel it off, and get rid of it for good.
I'm re-devoting myself to my Self; re-focusing on Me. i'm even taking back my physical/spiritual health: Today is Day 1 of the Master Cleanse (a 10-day lemon juice detox program).
I've a new resolve and the 50th anniversary issue of ArtForum came in the mail today. I've not felt this alive in a long time.
I'll keep you posted.
current mood: pointed
current music: dead man's bones - pa pa power
I'm so sick of my past heartbreaks defining who and what I am. Not too long ago, I had a car problem, and the mechanic asked me when my last oil change had been.
My response?
"Well, lets see. I remember being hungover cos so-and-so had just dumped me, so I would say, about a year ago?"
He looked at me and gave an "Hmph; measuring time by your love life. thats new."
Coping mechanisms have piled on and lined up, and they've each failed me, igniting a domino effect of self-loathing and vacancy. In their wake, I've been left a shell of who I know myself to be. I just couldn't take it anymore.
So I decided to get my Life back. Ive pulled myself up from the pathetic swamp of failure before, and I know I can do it again. I woke up with a renewed angst today, ready to take on whatever Damage I've managed to layer on myself, and peel it back, peel it off, and get rid of it for good.
I'm re-devoting myself to my Self; re-focusing on Me. i'm even taking back my physical/spiritual health: Today is Day 1 of the Master Cleanse (a 10-day lemon juice detox program).
I've a new resolve and the 50th anniversary issue of ArtForum came in the mail today. I've not felt this alive in a long time.
I'll keep you posted.
current mood: pointed
current music: dead man's bones - pa pa power
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)