Things to do:
-Check up on Pitt application.
-Talk to justice.
-deposit rent money
-bike?
-Bow?
-volunteer work.
7.30.2009
7.25.2009
7.23.2009
I always forget the asparagus in the oven. A clever little trick I've learned--burn your food and lose weight. There's never any time for more.
Been sleeping alone and it reminds me of fruit flies and a full can of trash. When you have no one around to remind you that being inattentive is not attractive, most things fall to rot. I can imagine that life is beautiful when you are single, but only because you hate being at home. Well, go ahead, roam if you want to.
But one can only hope to be this elegant.
Erin
Been sleeping alone and it reminds me of fruit flies and a full can of trash. When you have no one around to remind you that being inattentive is not attractive, most things fall to rot. I can imagine that life is beautiful when you are single, but only because you hate being at home. Well, go ahead, roam if you want to.
But one can only hope to be this elegant.
Erin
7.09.2009
hello,
I've got a picture now, it is to represent the face you should imagine while reading this, please. Thank you, and remember to always keep my face in half-shadow.
Today I am feeling a mixture of intense emotions that are oscillating between extreme boredom and unjustified anger towards men, and then there is that itch for french fries that just wont go away. I have tried coaxing friends but no one is willing to entertain me with hand to hand combat or hand fulls of delicious french fries of all varieties--crinkle fries are my favorite, if you are trying to get on my good side.
Here is a picture:
I assure you that this is an exercise in literary warm up--How to exploit your period, stereotypically!-- After all, It would be a shame to expose you to premature insight when the author is so terribly under the influence of womanhood--and, as we all know, junk food is most often the only cure for creative atrophy and hungry, hungry hormones.
Erin
I've got a picture now, it is to represent the face you should imagine while reading this, please. Thank you, and remember to always keep my face in half-shadow.
Today I am feeling a mixture of intense emotions that are oscillating between extreme boredom and unjustified anger towards men, and then there is that itch for french fries that just wont go away. I have tried coaxing friends but no one is willing to entertain me with hand to hand combat or hand fulls of delicious french fries of all varieties--crinkle fries are my favorite, if you are trying to get on my good side.
Here is a picture:
I assure you that this is an exercise in literary warm up--How to exploit your period, stereotypically!-- After all, It would be a shame to expose you to premature insight when the author is so terribly under the influence of womanhood--and, as we all know, junk food is most often the only cure for creative atrophy and hungry, hungry hormones.
Erin
7.06.2009
Hello, Hallelujah.
I was hoping to incorporate physical memory in this--ahem--journal, but I think I have lost touch with the art of physical memory making. I found a website that creates collages but It's hard to remember things when they are bunched up, and tied with ribbons.
Well, anyway, I have been floating fairly well in these troubled waters of ours. I am mostly drowning in recipes and that is alright, I guess, as long as they aren't too time consuming. After all, I only like to drown for a short and reasonable time. Tonight I bought a grill, I made a good meal, and now I am tired and ill and in love with Watership Down.
I have rabbit dreams. Carrots and burrows. I live with a family, bucks and does, and care only about safety and which way the wind blows. I miss my crinkling nose and the language--the language, mostly--where love is a warm flank and endlessly running.
Erin
I was hoping to incorporate physical memory in this--ahem--journal, but I think I have lost touch with the art of physical memory making. I found a website that creates collages but It's hard to remember things when they are bunched up, and tied with ribbons.
Well, anyway, I have been floating fairly well in these troubled waters of ours. I am mostly drowning in recipes and that is alright, I guess, as long as they aren't too time consuming. After all, I only like to drown for a short and reasonable time. Tonight I bought a grill, I made a good meal, and now I am tired and ill and in love with Watership Down.
I have rabbit dreams. Carrots and burrows. I live with a family, bucks and does, and care only about safety and which way the wind blows. I miss my crinkling nose and the language--the language, mostly--where love is a warm flank and endlessly running.
Erin
7.01.2009
Hello,
The girl who has always appreciated a good opening is left with no way to open tonight. I have been drinking wine, I ate dinner and had a few friends over. I am feeling parallel to myself, as usual, and I have no way to connect the two lines, which is always a precious mathematical gem translated in literature as yourself and the inevitable horizon--You will never meet, you are oceans away, depending on where you live. In this case, I can't get past the street.
ho hum, and all. I am not writing this to be a bummer but a sort-of-geographer, who maps the whereabouts of myself at any given time. Without getting too new-agey, you know very well that you are never really here, but mostly over there or sometimes elsewhere. So I am in the streets, in the gutter precisely, but as one man once said "looking at the stars." With that said, Orion has always been a comfort, but mostly because it is the only constellation I can find.
Perhaps that why the summers feel so lawless. The night sky with its clouds look more like a t-shirt I own than anything vast. Vastness has consistency, fashion does not. You may disagree, even that is consistent enough for me.
But I do not feel particularly uncanny, or out of the ordinary, because I have always felt the summer to be the unknowable. What will I do this time? What will others do to me? We have suddenly become neighbors to the whole city because it's hot and the blood is hot and smokes out the good old look-out post! There are no icebergs, but dense packs of dogs in heat! woof.
Beware your night time extravaganzas, or love them for what they are.
Erin
The girl who has always appreciated a good opening is left with no way to open tonight. I have been drinking wine, I ate dinner and had a few friends over. I am feeling parallel to myself, as usual, and I have no way to connect the two lines, which is always a precious mathematical gem translated in literature as yourself and the inevitable horizon--You will never meet, you are oceans away, depending on where you live. In this case, I can't get past the street.
ho hum, and all. I am not writing this to be a bummer but a sort-of-geographer, who maps the whereabouts of myself at any given time. Without getting too new-agey, you know very well that you are never really here, but mostly over there or sometimes elsewhere. So I am in the streets, in the gutter precisely, but as one man once said "looking at the stars." With that said, Orion has always been a comfort, but mostly because it is the only constellation I can find.
Perhaps that why the summers feel so lawless. The night sky with its clouds look more like a t-shirt I own than anything vast. Vastness has consistency, fashion does not. You may disagree, even that is consistent enough for me.
But I do not feel particularly uncanny, or out of the ordinary, because I have always felt the summer to be the unknowable. What will I do this time? What will others do to me? We have suddenly become neighbors to the whole city because it's hot and the blood is hot and smokes out the good old look-out post! There are no icebergs, but dense packs of dogs in heat! woof.
Beware your night time extravaganzas, or love them for what they are.
Erin
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