spectating

A few summers ago I was peering suspiciously out my window at some shady vehicle outside my house, which of course turned out to be the street view camera truck:



Oh self, I thought, that's not a good look for a lady (which is now on the internet forever).

Then I found this vintage Dior ad and realized it actually is a super good look.


Then I found those exact vintage Dior glasses frames. I'm not lying.

I like that ad because it reminds me of Rear Window, and may be referencing that thing Hitchcock had for auxiliary female characters wearing glasses.


My favorite one of these, which I couldn't find a picture of, is in North by Northwest when he climbs into a hospital room and the woman inside is scared at first, then puts her glasses on and wants him to stay. Because, I guess he's handsome? He's like, this gross orange color in that movie if you ask me.

I didn't photoshop that.

ecstasy, weather

"All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you: the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was."

— Ernest Hemingway

Waldeinsamkeit

I've read some good books and some really terrible books, lately. It drives me crazy that some terrible books are just allowed out into the world. After all the things I've talked myself out of doing, some idiot just writes a terrible book - or worse, someone who's not an idiot allows themselves to write a book that they probably know they shouldn't have. There are terrible movies too, but that's different because it's usually a mania or a delusion that involves a whole group of people. Oh god, I watched this terrible movie, even though I knew I shouldn't have, that was based on a really great book.

Right now I might have to allow myself to do some terrible things, or else I risk not being able to do anything at all.

this enchanted life

Sorry I've been gone so long. Unless you didn't miss me. In which case, carry on.

What's new?

My new love is Design Masters spray paint. I had cold rice and a Go Girl energy drink for dinner.

This is a Free Water Show I saw a little while ago.

If you leave a fancy dress on the floor of your closet all winter long this is the fungus that grows out of it.

I'm just trying to live my best life.

this was going to be my summer look

But I forgot to be super fucking tan.
I also forgot to collect six thousand marionettes.
I remembered to be total lunatic, though.

I am washing the dishes

"She excelled at packing a suitcase. She told herself 'I'm good at packing a suitcase', forming these words in her mind to keep other words, other thoughts, from crowding in. The three days of St Philumena's were bleating to high heaven for formulation, but she kept them at bay as she muttered, 'Shoes there. Books here. The comb-bag in that corner. Blouses flat on the bed. Fold the arms. Like that. Then fold again. This way, that way. Hot-water bottle. Nothing rattling. Crucifix wedged in cotton wool. Catholic Truth Society pamphlet to read on the train. I am doing what I am doing'.

In this way, she subjugated St Philomena's for half and hour. She had devised the technique in the British Museum Reading Room almost a year ago, at a time when her brain was like a Guy Fawkes night, ideas cracking off in all directions, dark idiot-figures jumping round a fiery junk-heap in the centre."

- Muriel Spark, from "The Comforters"

"Dinky Dean Bossetti, is that the yellow sweater i bought for you last week? That was a thirty-two dollar sweater, missy, and you dyed it black, didn't you? After you promised me you wouldn't."
"Correction. I didn't promise I wouldn't. I said I'd try not to."

long overdue

"...and then I took a photo of the giant pile of hair."
"Did you put it on your blog?"
"Um...not yet."

tumblng tumblweed

I started one of these:

because words aren't cutting it the moment.

cataloguing 1000 shades of white

laundry

Hand-embroidered laundry bag I just bought:

I almost cried when I found this. What can I say? I'm a moody person.
What am I going to put in it? Not laundry!

make me psychic

I am a big fan of animator Sally Cruikshank. Her work is delightfully bonkers and she seems like a cool person.


I just found her blog!
"Quasi at the Quackadero" is a favorite, but I can't embed it. She also did this part for the Twilight Zone movie that I think is funnier out of context.




Since my computer died I've been going through dusty stacks of cd's looking for stuff to re-upload, and finding all kinds of music I forgot I liked. Bands like The Gerbils? And The Black Heart Procession? That I listened to alllll the time in 2001? It's giving me feelings somewhere between nostalgia and indigestion.

regarding french manicures

Everyone knows that a french manicure is what separates ladies from you-know-whats.
They are a brilliant evolutionary ruse to trick potential mates into thinking that your fingernails are glamorous and clean.


One time on the bus I saw a woman wearing sandals with a french pedicure, (bear with me) featuring tips painted a deep crimson instead of white, and I mean the color of dried blood. It was all I could do to maintain my sanity.

Someday I will be to french manicures what Louis Wain was to cats.

The last time I was at a beauty-supply store I perused the peroxide aisle singing this song I had just made up:

"french manicures are the most beautiful kind of manicure
until you get a french manicure
you are not a real woman"



I am publishing these lyrics under a creative commons license, which means you're allowed to use the song but you have to give me credit. If you don't, I get to come to your house and Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte, etc:



Bruce Dern = you
Meat Cleaver = my fists

You might think that my reluctance to damage an immaculate french manicure would deter me from pulverizing my enemies, but you would be wrong, friend.

betches go to prison

My bestie Cat just sent me this and I died. Why was I allowed to watch this show? It gave me all kinds of wrong ideas. I remember there was a lot of fainting involved, dramatic fainting, which was totally my jam at the time.

quit it, melanie!

So I spend half the weekend painstakingly building frames and stretching canvas, and now I get a perfect snow day and the house all to myself. Why am I procrastinating with inane youtubes?? I'm blaming Melanie for this, and for all my other problems too. Why not? Oh yeah, have you seen her website? Meet you in the Meditation Room!

leonora

"Every teenager's mind is a haunted house."

I want you to really look at yourself.

more gorgeous means more horseradish

I'm trying to figure out what I want in the coming months in the most elemental fashion, so that it can be accepted by the simplest part of my brain. I once read that your subconscious can't assimilate negative statements as facts, so you have to tell your brain what you want in the most straightforward positive way possible. I wonder if that's true or if I was reading the Hippie Bullshit Your Relatives Forward You Digest. Anyway, what I'm thinking about is "more gorgeous", and for some reason my brain associates this phrase with horseradish-infused vodka, and I can't stop thinking about it.


I don't even like vodka. But I like this stuff. I went to a cafe in New York that makes their own, and the waiters are handsome.

I also like the fact that you can hallucinate dancing horses if you tape ping-pong balls over your eyes and listen to static on the radio. I wish I had known this when I was 13 or so.

I bought this giant skull mug on my lunch break today,

and told my coworker I was going to fill it with horseradish vodka, and then I was really going to tell everybody what's what. It was pretty funny because there's no amount of anything in the world that would motivate either of us to tell anyone what's what, because we're constitutionally opposed to things like that.

tonight I am delighted to be celebrating the construction of this beautiful sand castle

I was wondering what the very limit is, I think this is it

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