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01 January 2011 @ 01:14 pm
Yeah, that's right, I finally ditched this tired username. Only I'm broke, so I did it the old fashioned way. Whatever. It's a fresh start to the new year?

So, if you give a shit about my posts or something, friend rawr_balrog. I might have friended you already, so if I did, kindly return the favor.

Happy new year?
26 November 2010 @ 07:38 pm
Do you find holiday gift-giving more pleasurable or onerous?

It's a pain in the ass, because I work retail and deal with it all day. By the time it comes to buying my own, I have no desire at all to spend any time in a store.
25 October 2010 @ 03:19 pm
Do you do any banking on your smartphone? If yes, what do you do? If not, what's holding you back?

No. I don't want to. Stop asking this question!

I swear this is like every other fricking QOTD.
23 October 2010 @ 01:01 pm
If you wanted to have children and had trouble conceiving, would you be more likely to consider IVF, surrogacy, or adoption, and why?

I would adopt. It just seems selfish to demand that a child MUST be of your genetics when there are thousands of kids stuck in horrible foster homes around the country.
16 October 2010 @ 12:47 am
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11 October 2010 @ 03:11 pm
"A Primer For the Small Weird Loves"
by Richard Siken


The blond boy in the red trunks is holding your head underwater
because he is trying to kill you,
and you deserve it, you do, and you know this,
and you are ready to die in this swimming pool
because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means
your life is over anyway.
You’re in the eighth grade. You know these things.
You know how to ride a dirt bike, and you know how to do
long division,
and you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless
he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you
didn’t do,
because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore.


A dark-haired man in a rented bungalow is licking the whiskey
from the back of your wrist.
He feels nothing,
keeps a knife in his pocket,
peels an apple right in front of you
while you tramp around a mustard-colored room
in your underwear
drinking Dutch beer from a green bottle.
After everything that was going to happen has happened
you ask only for the cab fare home
and realize you should have asked for more
because he couldn’t care less, either way.


The man on top of you is teaching you how to hate, sees you
as a piece of real estate,
just another fallow field lying underneath him
like a sacrifice.
He’s turning your back into a table so he doesn’t have to
eat off the floor, so he can get comfortable,
pressing against you until he fits, until he’s made a place for himself
inside you
The clock ticks from five to six. Kissing degenerates into biting.
So you get a kidney punch, a little blood in your urine.
It isn’t over yet, it’s just begun.


Says to himself
The boy’s no good. The boy is just no good.
but he takes you in his arms and pushes your flesh around
to see if you could ever be ugly to him.
You, the now familiar whipping boy, but you’re beautiful,
he can feel the dogs licking his heart.
Who gets the whip and who gets the hoops of flame?
He hits you and he hits you and he hits you.
Desire driving his hands right into your body.
Hush, my sweet. These tornadoes are for you.
You wanted to think of yourself as someone who did these kinds of things.
You wanted to be in love
and he happened to get in the way.


The green-eyed boy in the powder-blue t-shirt standing
next to you in the supermarket recoils as if hit,
repeatedly, by a lot of men, as if he has a history of it.
This is not your problem.
You have your own body to deal with.
The lamp by the bed is broken.
You are feeling things he’s no longer in touch with.
And everyone is speaking softly,
so as not to wake one another.
The wind knocks the heads of the flowers together.
Steam rises from every cup at every table at once.
Things happen all the time, things happen every minute
that have nothing to do with us.


So you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge,
and you want it dirty.
And no one can ever figure out what you want,
and you won’t tell them,
and you realize the one person in the world who loves you
isn’t the one you thought it would be,
and you don’t trust him to love you in a way
you would enjoy.
And the boy who loves you the wrong way is filthy.
And the boy who loves you the wrong way keeps weakening.
You thought if you handed over your body
he’d do something interesting.


The stranger says there are no more couches and he will have to
sleep in your bed. You try to warn him, you tell him
you will want to get inside him, and ruin him,
but he doesn’t listen.
You do this, you do. You take the things you love
and tear them apart
or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours.
So, you kiss him, and he doesn’t move, he doesn’t
pull away, and you keep on kissing him. And he hasn’t moved,
he’s frozen, and you’ve kissed him, and he’ll never
forgive you, and maybe now he’ll leave you alone.
23 September 2010 @ 12:46 am
Dear Shannon,



No, seriously, get back into a routine, you fatass, before you ruin everything.



PS: No, seriously, go.
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18 September 2010 @ 04:35 pm
I think I count today as a win. This morning, Chad and I were signed up to go to a workshop at the Paper Kite Gallery in Kingston at ten. I had never been there before, and his friend owns it, so he crashed on my couch last night so that we could go together.

Now, the convenience of him being here in the morning was doubled by the fact that I had Harry and David Pumpkin Spice Pancake Mix sitting in my cabinet waiting to be used. Yeah. So we woke up at eight voluntarily on a saturday, ran to price chopper for eggs and syrup, came back, and cooked ourselves breakfast. (Also on the menu: apple cider, and Fakin' Bacon.

The pancakes were a slight disaster, only in that my stove makes it really difficult to control temperature, and also because I don't have any butter or margarine, so we had to grease the pan with canola oil. Whatever. They were either burnt or horribly misshapen due to the batter sliding everywhere in the process of attempting to flip them, but we didn't care. We told ourselves they just looked more rustic that way, like we were doing it on a camp stove, or cooking in a secluded cabin in the French countryside, with a wood-burning stove and trees and stone everywhere. Our pancakes had character. At any rate, it was well worth it, because when I say those pancakes were amazing? That's because they were amazing. Also, the tempeh strips were really good smothered in syrup.

Anyway, workshop. After breakfast, we spent the whole morning sitting around a table making notebooks! We made the floppy, paper chapter style ones, and also repurposed old hardcover books by taking the pages out and stitching our own paper into the cover. It really fun! I could have sat there all day making those things. Chad and I want to go out and get supplies (ie, paper, old books, a razor blade, an awl, wax thread, a blunt needle, and one of those paper guillotine things) and just do this in all of our free time. I am now the proud motherowner of a repurposed grammar textbook/notebook, and a paper chapter notebook. Extremely shitty webcam shots behind the cut.

notebooks, ahoy!Collapse )

In related news, the guy running the workshop is from Baltimore, and he apparently lived right around the corner from the original Book Thing! That is so awesome. I wish I lived near that. I'd spend all my time there. It would be so awesome to run my own branch of it.
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Current Mood: creativecreative
16 September 2010 @ 04:26 pm
What's your favorite trick for freshening up your wardrobe?

12 September 2010 @ 04:17 pm
So, I've decided to blog for real. I finally put my wordpress account into use.

Right now, there's only an introduction post, but I intend to use it to write book reviews and to chronicle my "journey as a writer," or however you want to call it.

Please read it, follow it, comment on it, add it to your feedburner, pass it on to your friends! I'd like my first journey into Grown Up Blogging to be a success. :D

Find it here: Fantasy Is Reality

Also, if anyone knows php and wants to make me a spiffy customized layout, I'll be eternally grateful.

Thank you!