"we are the city that blots out the light of the stars"

today i made fortune cookies, i love them- not as much as J who has had a life-long fascination- but theyre one of the only ways that food and words come together and im a fan of anything that brings two of my favorite thing closer... i started thinking about what i could put in a fortune and i decided to try to make them and fill them with lines of poetry.

and then i found L's old Skinner catalogs and began using images of old dutch paintings as my fortune paper, hands of madonnas with ripe fruit and pink clouds as backdrops for nearly arbitrary slices of contemporary poetry. they made for strange little creatures but beautiful in their own way.

im going to admit, im bored with my life right now. im working on why and what i can do about it, but im currently bored and i hate to think that way or even admit it but nothing i do, create, drive towards, is holding my interest. i feel like im missing something, possibly right under my nose, but missing it nonetheless and just hope this isn't a window that will open and close if im too dense to see through it.

great new food blog and brussel sprout mania.

as soon as i start denying myself food its all i can think of. and then i found an entire page of delicious brussel sprout recipes. HEAVEN. click around the blog for great ideas.

One Pan Sage & Savory Baby Brussels with Figs, Pecans + Sharp Cheddar

Serves 2
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
1.5 cups baby brussels sprouts
3-4 thin-skinned figs
1/4 cup pecans, coarsely chopped
3-4 sprigs or leaves of fresh sage
shredded sharp cheddar
salt & pepper to taste
balsamic

Heat olive oil and butter until browned but not smoking.
Clean brussels sprouts then cut stems and remove outer leaves. Toss in pan to coat.
After 2-3 minutes, add torn sage and pecans.
Wash then cut the figs into 1/8 pieces. Once the sprouts start to crisp (6-8 minutes), place figs flesh side down to caramelize.
Stir ingredients occasionally for another minute then place in large bowl. Season with salt and pepper and top with sharp cheddar cheese.
Drizzle with balsamic

i could eat a bushel a barrel and a peck of quinoa.

great place for getting simple healthy recipes:
NYT Recipes for Health

One i'm making when i can eat real food again:

1 6-ounce bag baby spinach
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
2 plump garlic cloves, minced
4 cups cooked quinoa, (1 cup uncooked)
2 large eggs
3 ounces Gruyère cheese, grated (3/4 cup)
1 1/2 teaspoons chopped fresh sage
1 ounce Parmesan, grated (1/4 cup)

1. Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Oil a 2-quart gratin or baking dish.
2. Heat a medium frying pan or a wide saucepan over medium-high heat. Wash the spinach and without spinning dry, add to the pan and wilt in the liquid left on the leaves after washing. You may have to do this in 2 batches. As soon as the spinach wilts, remove from the heat and rinse with cold water. Squeeze dry and chop. Set aside.
3. Wipe the pan dry and heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil in it over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring often, until tender, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and stir with the onion until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the spinach and season with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat.
4. Beat the eggs in a large bowl and add 1/2 teaspoon salt. Stir in the quinoa, the onion and spinach mixture, the Gruyère, and the sage. Add freshly ground pepper and stir the mixture together. Scrape into the gratin dish. Sprinkle the Parmesan over the top and drizzle on the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Place in the oven and bake until nicely browned on top, about 25 minutes. Remove from the heat, allow to sit for about 5 minutes, and serve.

Serves 4 to 6

eyeoftheday is BANNED

from china.
ive heard from the front that my blogaroni isnt available in china! AWESOME!! im so flattered. really.

i took my first sick day yesterday because i had a ten year old dweeby style bloody nose. taking a sick day was surprisingly easy to do, i happen to be in a bit of a lull for once, work-wise.
got nothing accomplished at home. but did drink delicious hot chocolate with chile powder in it thanks to my roommate.
things i want to perfect and then personalize:
grilled cheese
mac n cheese
hot chocolate
coffee
muffins
but not right now. becuase i did manage to feel gross enough that i realized ive been treating my bod like shit and im going on a bit of a controlled juice fast.
well see how this makes me feel. i still have a headache but that might just be because i come back to the office only to receive this:
heals (10:52:03 AM): silly q
daisy (10:52:07 AM): yessss
heals (10:52:10 AM): but you know in a sports stadium?
heals (10:52:20 AM): i cant think of what the board is called
heals (10:52:28 AM): the one that displays the score
heals (10:52:34 AM): OH
heals (10:52:36 AM): score board?

SM strategy BS for HP DPNE FS

just got an email that said that.
and i understood it perfectly.
its official i am a robot.

florence & the machine youve got the love

kettering by the antlers

lyrics here

eye colors

the colors of my blog (as it stands in the moment i make no promise it will remain thsi way for long) are the colors im really attracted to these days, and, if i think about it, always. my room in brookline is all sea foam and sand and dune grass colors. and recently i brought a grey blue tapestry into my office and draped it over my extra chair. it was the first attempt i really made at decorating, only a year after arriving... something like the devil wears prada where stanley tucci recommends that anne hathaway stop "deigning" to work at mode... im finally admitting that i'll be here for at least another three months, hopefully not much more but either way i should make this awful space my own. i'm not sure if this is a terrible sign that i am resigned to my fate or a sign that i'm learning to make myself happy and not live in denial. anyway now my blog, my virtual room if you will, is reflecting those colors that make me take a deep breath. and thats good because i forget to breathe a lot.


the artist responsible for these images and the one thats up top now is Alicia Bock. Her polaroids are beautiful. i want to live in them. in them.

ARE WE ALL AWARE OF THIS?

this site, "gnod" thats actually well stocked and easy to interface and maps your music preferences and can give you endless suggestions based on your top three music loves. in this case i typed in william fitzsimmons and look what i got! it's this bouncy amorphous map and its beautiful and im so excited to go investigate Ryan Montbleau, the duhks, nizlopi and others. AND IT DOES IT FOR BOOKS AND MOVIES!
click on it and it'll be readable:

i want a howling hurt

Not Here

There's courage involved if you want
to become truth. There is a broken-

open place in a lover. Where are
those qualities of bravery and sharp

compassion in this group? What's the
use of old and frozen thought? I want

a howling hurt. This is not a treasury
where gold is stored; this is for copper.

We alchemists look for that which
can heat up and change. Lukewarm

won't do. Halfhearted holding back,
well-enough to get by? Not here.

by rumi

It's the first day of spring
And my life is starting over again
The trees grow, the river flows
And its water will wash away my sins
For I do believe that everyone has one chance
To fuck up their lives
But like a cut down tree, I will rise again
And I'll be bigger and stronger than ever before

For I'm still here hoping that one day you may come back
For I'm still here hoping that one day you may come back

There's a hope in every new seed
And every flower that grows upon the earth
And though I love you, and you know that
Well I no longer know what that's worth
But I'll come back to you in a year or so
And I'll rebuild, be ready to become
Oh the person, you believed in
Oh the person, that you used to love

For I'm still here hoping that one day you may come back
For I'm still here hoping that one day you may come back

revisited one of my most cherished childhood movies.... about dragqueens

wesley snipes, patrick swayze, and the tremendous john leguizamo in "to wong foo, thanks for everything, julie newmar"

Amy: havent you seen high fidelity
me: no...i have not
Amy: WHAHAATHTHTHATHT
me: oh get over it
Amy: wow
me: i mean ill watch it if someone puts it in my hands but i havent come across it and everyones seen it so i have no opportunity.
Amy: i see. i could quote from it. not too many movies like that for me
me: there are a few for me....birdcage
Amy: haha
me: to wong foo thanks for everything julie newmar...wait why are all the movies i love with dragqueens?
Amy: you like the faggy movies eh
me: i saw each one when they first came out, as a CHILD my parents brought me to these movies because they wanted to see them... hard to believe. and i loved them then as i do now.
Amy: birdcage is my earliest understanding of homosexuality, i saw that in theatres
me: hah mine too see there you go. well not my eeeearliest understanding
Amy: in the burbs those were the only gay people i had seen
i think my parents regretted that :)
me: my/my mothers trainer when i was five or six was gay. when he died of AIDS my mother explained everything then. in her own way.
Amy: oh wow
me: there was a period there where the riding world was decimated. so i learned a lot then. but i think i knew -before i knew what gay was- that the people in my life were gay. horse people and art people... i dont remember what my first lesbian understanding was though, they were two different things completely. i remember when i was taught the word lesbian, it was whispered in my ear in second grade.
brought that one home and had it slapped out of me by my irish nanny :)
Amy: hah she didnt get it all out i guess
me: yeah, left a little.

sweet squiggley sausage baked cheddar orgy

on a deadly boring call dreaming about making dinner tonight. I have a guest coming by who will have been in class all day so im hoping to make her something stick-to-your-ribs...slash brain?
anyway i definitely have mac n cheese on the brain so i've been reading some trusted blogs and combining their recipes based on what I have in the fridge/what i want in my mouth.
I'm sure i'll go off and screw with it in additional ways.

(serves 2)

*two small sweet sausage links, i think i have turkey/chicken/apple in the freezer
*1 big clove garlic, roasted in the oven whole or just mince it
*1/4 white or yellow onion, diced
*1/2 lb. pasta, i have the squiggly kind currently in my cupboard, hence the name. not to be confused with rotini
*some dried sage, thyme, nutmeg, whatever youve got thats tasty
*1 big tbsp. butter
*1 heaping tbsp. flour
*3/4 cup whole milk, or more if its not whole...but man up and make it whole
*1/2 cup white wine
*1 cup grated sharp cheddar
*breadcrumbs & grated parmesan, for topping

preheat oven to 375.
roast the garlic
boil the pasta, al dente. set aside
cut sausage into 1/4 inch pieces, sautee with olive oil until slightly crispy
while thats happening melt butter in a pot
add roasted garlic (mash or mince)
and onion, sauteeing until translucent
add flour and let cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring constantly
add spices and 1/2 cup of white wine, stirring
add milk slowly, whisking constantly to create a bechamel
remove from heat and stir in grated cheese
toss pasta with sauce and the sausage pieces
pour everything into a buttered dish
top with breadcrumbs and parmesan
dot with butter if you feel like you havent quite acheived a heart attack yet
bake in oven for 20 minutes or until bubbly and browned

i'll post a picture later if it comes out!

if it doesnt come out youll never bring it up with me again. understood.

Bibliomorphic

Things that are shaped like books but are not books
Abound. One leaf opens over another.
The folding-chairs are books manqués, no doubt,
Though only when unfolded for the booths,
And only such in this folding, defeated poem,
Which will not be, even by a reader, repeated.
Bebe Rebozo is a name shaped like a book,
Book him, you serifs, before he gets away,
Though who he wasn’t we otherwise don’t remember
(Our synapses are fading now and yellowing like books.)
A box of candies open, a laptop, a sandwich,
All of these are (sort of) like books, at least for now.
The body is bibliomorphic, symmetrical,
Libriform, and lasts about as long as a paperback.
So is the butterfly in this novel and that.
The universe, book-formed, has a central seam
For two great wings, star-marginalia visible
Only to those who have the right strength
Reading-glasses, and the minuscule g
Turned on its side is a bicycle, ant, or book.
Books are Kabbalahform, cubic, Kaabaesque.
They take part in the night-closing of the shops.

-- Jim Dolot

i cant tell if i love or hate her

shes a little too cutesy. but her eye is awesome. check out colormekatie blog

Two recently received PR pearls of wisdom

on the subject of getting a briefing out a reporter despite the lack of newsworthy news offered:
"drag them to the water and then hold their head under until they damn well drink"

on the subject of handling a difficult coworker, or anyone:
"begin every response with 'I totally agree,' after that people pretty much stop listening and a few sentences later you can be saying, 'youre an idiot obviously im not going to do anything you say' and they wont even hear you."

ongoing draft, once again untitled.

i dream relentlessly
it's always the night we paused at the edge

of the ravine by your house
you stared down into the concrete darkness

"we're nothing more than matches
at best we burn down to what holds us"

i heard you but I pointed out the bats erratic
shadows snuffing and relighting stars

i never knew what you saw at the bottom
I just knew better than to reach for you

but in the dream you hold me
and I burn.

ever heard of a hair tree?

heals (12:42:57 PM): omg how gross is this
heals (12:43:05 PM): i was walking by that stupid hanging tree by kevs cube
heals (12:43:12 PM): and i have a HAIR hanging from a branch
heals (12:43:15 PM): isnt that NASTY.
heals (12:43:19 PM): it has to be mine. it's so long
heals (12:43:23 PM): mine or thekla's. wait.
daisy (12:43:34 PM): i love that you must have studied it to know this.
heals (12:43:51 PM): omg i just checked AGAIN.
daisy (12:49:17 PM): you just double checked the hair in the tree?
heals (12:49:25 PM): um yes.
heals (12:49:28 PM): i had to confirm the owner
daisy (12:49:47 PM): did you at least REMOVE said hair?
daisy (12:50:04 PM): ...you totally didnt!
daisy (12:50:09 PM): you left it hanging there like it's a hair tree!
heals (12:53:12 PM): daisy its message is twofold as it underscores 1) how not normal this place is. and 2) the tree landscaping desperately needed, as said tree is snatching hairs off our head.
daisy (12:53:31 PM): ellen this is such a wonderful conversation.

Synesthesia

check this "condition" out: synesthesia
im writing more on the topic later, for now this is just a place holder.
possible explanation for why purple screams at me? probably not but fascinating.

also, the quote that led me to the condition because the quotee...no quoter... anyway the guy who said it, Zamyatin, was apparently synesthetic:

It is said there are flowers that bloom only once in a hundred years. Why should there not be some that bloom once in a thousand, in ten thousand years? Perhaps we never knew about them simply because this "once in a thousand years" has come only today? - Yevgeny Zamyatin

new favorite colleague.

This all started because shes coming to visit soon. so excited to finally put face to name. now all i need is to finally meet my best friend gay brother, chase. though after what perrin told me about the speedos in the below conversation, im not sure i can look at chase straight again.
who am i kidding. hes told me worse himself.
i do love these people.

BP (1:13:16 PM): i'll be stepping off the plane at 7:55 a.m.
BP (1:13:21 PM): so understand that i WILL look like shit
BP (1:13:22 PM): on stick
daisy (1:13:56 PM): thats how we roll around here no worries
daisy(1:14:00 PM): actually thats a blatent lie
daisy (1:14:06 PM): thekla always looks super euro chic
BP (1:14:12 PM): brunette bombshells
BP (1:14:16 PM): you'll meet california grunge
daisy (1:14:38 PM): vanessa insists on looking perfectly corporate and beautiful. thank god torrey wears jeans every day
BP (1:14:54 PM): i wear jeans daily
BP (1:14:58 PM): and i've started walking to work
BP (1:15:00 PM): which means
BP (1:15:02 PM): nikes
BP (1:15:06 PM): jeans
BP (1:15:07 PM): fleece
BP (1:15:21 PM): hiding whatever shirt i've dug up from the dredges of my drawers
BP (1:15:33 PM): makeup does not entirely exist from mon-fri
daisy (1:16:22 PM): i think well get along juuuuust fine.
daisy (1:16:35 PM): its hard out here for a non makeup wearer though between thekla and vanessa and ellen
daisy (1:16:45 PM): theyve given up on me. im the red headed step child.
BP (1:16:51 PM): HAHAAH
BP (1:16:53 PM): love
BP (1:16:58 PM): fuck this means i'll have to break it out
BP (1:16:59 PM): great.
BP (1:17:06 PM): at 5 a.m. my time
BP (1:17:08 PM): awesome.
BP (1:17:15 PM): yeah ellen seems way put together
BP (1:17:17 PM): that's great
BP (1:17:17 PM): really
BP (1:17:22 PM): i'll feel totally attractive
BP (1:17:28 PM): chewing my hair in the corner
daisy (1:17:31 PM): hahahahahh
BP (1:17:42 PM): you're laughing now
BP (1:17:44 PM): but you'll see
daisy(1:18:28 PM): i think ive seen pictures of you. i dont believe a word of this. youre just like them i bet. ellen says ohhh im such a MESS today and its only because instead of blowdrying AND ironing her hair after the gym PRE WORK she just blew it out
BP (1:18:45 PM): aahhhh!
BP (1:18:50 PM): not true!
BP (1:19:00 PM): let's illustrate
BP (1:19:03 PM): this morning - my hair
BP (1:19:07 PM): goes from sopping wet
BP (1:19:11 PM): into nasty bun
BP (1:19:24 PM): have i taken it down from said soppy nasty bun/pony?
BP (1:19:26 PM): nope
BP (1:19:32 PM): ran into some mascara
BP (1:19:42 PM): to give the illusion of having eyelashes at all
BP (1:20:04 PM): i am sweatingfrom the upper lip by the time i grace the offiice because i walk 3+ miles
BP (1:20:16 PM): thank god for no straight men in PR
daisy (1:21:16 PM): hahahah
daisy (1:21:26 PM): but see the gays judge too. chase is very judgy.
BP (1:21:51 PM): oh chase is totally judgy
daisy (1:21:52 PM): also vanessa just sent this to me. i recommend watching it later. HILARIOUS CAT VIDEO
BP (1:21:56 PM): ask him now how often i wash my hair
BP (1:21:59 PM): i'll wait
BP (1:22:06 PM): ask what he says about my general appearance
BP (1:22:11 PM): he saw me everyday for over a year
daisy (1:22:35 PM): asking. and pretty sure id turn his stomach.
daisy (1:22:51 PM): last week i did this thing they do in the magazines, "1 pair of pants, five ways!"
daisy (1:22:59 PM): except it was because i only had one pair of pants clean.
daisy (1:23:01 PM): beat that
BP (1:23:04 PM): HAHAHAHAAHA
BP (1:23:18 PM): you win for today
BP (1:23:25 PM): but only because you can't see my sloppy appearance
BP (1:24:06 PM): has chase answered you?
daisy (1:24:40 PM): he hasnt answered
daisy(1:25:04 PM): im not intimidated. ill pursue the truth.
daisy (1:26:28 PM): he just responded
daisy(1:26:30 PM): "eww"
BP (1:26:36 PM): and there you go
daisy (1:26:45 PM): and added does baby powder count to which i am replying YES
daisy (1:26:51 PM): and WHY DO YOU THINK I HAVE BP ON MY DESK
BP (1:27:01 PM): HAHAHAHA
daisy (1:27:31 PM): perrin, seriously, were on the same page here
BP (1:27:31 PM): you can tell him that helping to pick out no less than 7 of what can only be described as Speedo lights
BP (1:27:38 PM): for his gruise (gay cruise)
BP (1:27:49 PM): is more than compensation for my less than adequate appeareance
daisy (1:28:24 PM): I cant breathe im laughing so hard
BP (1:28:35 PM): aussie bums
BP (1:28:38 PM): i actually remember the brand
daisy (1:29:22 PM): did you GO WITH him or just see these online?!
BP (1:29:28 PM): picked out online
BP (1:29:31 PM): THEN got to see them
BP (1:29:36 PM): in their itty bitty packaging
daisy (1:29:46 PM): all kindas lines. crossed.
BP (1:29:48 PM): like i said
BP (1:29:50 PM): more than payment
daisy (1:30:29 PM): yeah. just.. yeah. thats pretty much a lifetime of favors right there.
daisy (1:31:32 PM): please drag chase with you to boston. hes been promising to come for like a year.
BP (1:34:15 PM): yes
BP (1:34:18 PM): i will force him
BP (1:34:19 PM): he likes that
BP (1:34:21 PM): oh god
BP (1:34:27 PM): that came across way wrong
daisy (1:35:28 PM): omg.
daisy (1:35:36 PM): if i were chase id say ROFL
daisy (1:35:44 PM): who even uses those acronyms.
BP (1:36:01 PM): dear satan help us all
daisy (1:36:11 PM): HA
daisy (1:36:23 PM): perrin you are kind of my new favorite person.
BP(1:36:45 PM): i have to say likewise my pet
daisy (1:37:06 PM): * beaming with dirty pride! *
BP (1:40:08 PM): go live with your slut.
daisy (1:40:22 PM): GASP
daisy (1:40:26 PM): what did he say?!
daisy (1:40:57 PM): HAHHH
daisy (1:41:06 PM): omg i thought you were commenting on something chase told you about me. then i realized you were just quoting the hilarious cat video.
BP (1:41:16 PM): hahaahahahah
daisy (1:41:34 PM): my favorite is
daisy (1:41:36 PM): i was a virgin
daisy (1:41:39 PM): WAS!!!!!!
BP (1:41:48 PM): YES
BP (1:42:53 PM): one last thing before i feign work
BP (1:42:54 PM): so
BP (1:43:01 PM): bc of the recession
BP (1:43:06 PM): and my poor retail choices
BP (1:43:13 PM): my sister and i are staying in boston with...
BP (1:43:20 PM): my freshman year college boyfriend
BP (1:43:21 PM): yep
BP (1:43:23 PM): that's right
BP (1:43:27 PM): new. low.
daisy (1:43:31 PM): a new low would be same pants six ways, this is just working the system, perrin, really. in my book, this is a win. :)

blondie and brownie

mom and i are exchanging recipes over email for veggie based comfort food to make tomorrow when i come home. were both supposed to be working but are having much more fun doing this. its really warming my heart, actually.

here's what we decided on, thanks to b's beautiful blog suggestion. well probably end up quirking it up knowing us, and i intend to cram as many autumnal farmstand veggies into that casserole dish as i can but the idea will remain the same:

Cheesy Rice Pie with Roasted Broccoli & Mushrooms
Rice:
Two cups whole-grain brown rice
1 yellow onion, diced
1-2 tbsp. butter
2 cups low sodium chicken stock, 1 cup water
Veggies:
Two heads broccoli, washed and chopped into florets
2 -3 cups chopped Cremini mushrooms
Olive oil
Dairy:
1 1/4 cups Half and Half (or milk)
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup grated cheddar
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
2 tbsp salt
1 tbsp pepper
1/2 cup grated Parmesan (for topping)
Heat butter in saucepan. Add chopped onion and let soften. Add rice and let "toast" for a minute or so. Then add 2 cups chicken stock and 1 cup water. Bring to a boil, stir, then cover and simmer over low heat until rice absorbs all liquid.
While the rice is cooking preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Roast veggies on sheet pan for 20 minutes or until slightly caramelized. Remove from oven and let cool.
In a large bowl whisk together eggs, Half & Half, mustard, S&P. Stir in cheddar, rice, and veggies. Press mixture firmly into a buttered cast iron skillet, casserole dish, or large pie pan. Sprinkle 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese on top. Bake in a 375 oven for 25 minutes or until cheese is melted.

blondie and brownie

another brilliant food blog id follow more if i lived in brooklyn or ny in general but as is i just appreciate their emphasis on icecream inventions and local small shop sweetness.

beautiful just beautiful watch listen repeat

Other artists to spend some time with when i have more time: Film School, Ukiyo-e, David Grubbs, Deerhunter, Sleeping States, Papercuts, Bill Evans Trio, Boards of Canada, Sonic Youth, Hood, Roland Kirk, Dustin O'Halloran, Nick Drake, American Analogue Set, Cortney Tidwell, Low, Sun, David Kitt, Sam Prekop, Radio Dept, Jim O'Rourke, Jack Ladder, Loose Fur, Smog, Grand Salvo, Whitest Boy Alive, The Notwist, Pivot, Devics, Charles Mingus, Ken Stringfellow, Brokeback, Ivy, Manitoba, Bat For Lashes, Midlake

is it sad that this is honestly making me consider staying at this job?

there is a new coffee machine at the office. its this beautiful streamlined drip design with delicious ground roast and theyre destroying the liquidvomitsewage maker that everyone in the office besides me boycotted because really, im not a coffee snob, i just need my fix, but now that ive got the real deal im realizing that the only reason i drank a reasonable amount of coffee each day up until now is not because im not addicted, not because i have any self control, but simply becuase the stuff was utterly unstomachable in large quantities. not so anymore folks. im four cups deep and its only noon and MAN DO I FEEL CHARGED.

continuation of mega post started 10/13...

ok so this morning (24 hours have passed since i started this mother of a post)i was on the T, dozing upright like a cow, having left the office a mere 8 hours earlier, and a beautiful song came on my ipod and i really wanted to sing it. i thought, what would happen if i just started singing...loudly. no one on this train knows me. theres a chance someone knows someone i know, boston being a small city, but if i sang my way to copley station and then stepped off the train my reputation as a non-crazy person would probably remain intact.

i guess this is part of what happens when i travel. my identity is called into question when theres no one around me who "knows" me. which is a sad statement about my sense of self- that it is predicated on others? many of my best friends go back to before i can remember being set on a blanket next to them. these people truly do know me as well as i know myself. but what self do they know? the one i show of course but are we all just reinforcing our childhood ideas of eachother? this is not a statement against my friends, if its being done to me then im doing it right back, im just as culpable, and at the end of the day i value my friendships over everything. everything. but maybe in my particular confused case, where i feel im truly not pointing in the right direction, like, i might be on a highway going the wrong way and the last exit for 50 miles is coming up on the right... maybe i need to pull over. sit in the car alone for a moment while everyone else hurtles by.

i guess this is travelling to me. (and i dont mean going on a vacation, i mean journeying, questing, moving around this blue and green marble without a defined itinerary)relative to the speed at which everyone else is moving towards their end-goals, its actually a kind of pulling over. and its frightening. it goes against our self-protective, species-perpetuating instincts to actively seek out companionship, a space, a routine, a life that makes sense and has "purpose."

am i getting anywhere? no. really, im not. but i can breathe somewhat better than i could yesterday...

true in all cases, not just romantic love.

A Trail Leading Back

an old sage once told me that when you find someone you like, you take them by the ankles and you shake them. all their good qualities, the things you fell in love with them for, will come out of their pockets and fall onto the floor. you grab these things, he said spreading his arms wide, grab them and you take them to the bank. you get yourself one of those fancy safety deposit boxes they have way in the back, and you take these good qualities of theirs, lock them up, and hide the key. hide the key, he whispered, because there will be dark times. times when you don't exactly recall why you are with this person, this stranger. you will wake in the middle of the night, confused because you don't remember the person you are sleeping next to. days will pass when neither of you have uttered one word to the other. when this happens you are going to have to find the key to the safety deposit box. once you find the key, you are going to have to get to the bank, and unlock that box. look inside it and remember. it won't make sense at first, because remember you two are strangers. but once it does it will be like a baby’s song, a string of vowels, devoid of all consonants, like bubbles rising up into the sky and leaving a trail. a trail leading back.

--Erika Moya

its 10:27 am on tuesday oct 13 and im starting to write.

this is going to be the first post in a long time in which i actually write about my life.

it gets easy to throw poetry and videos and images up here but its raining today and i feel like being honest, i feel like connecting a fire hose between my brain and my fingers and just opening the valve.

of course that cant happen because im at work and im paid to work at work and i dont even know what the point is of the work i work on but im working on it.

so im going to write this in fits and starts, throughout the day or longer if necessary, between press releases and pitches, between launches and lunch runs, between calls and coffee breaks, im going to keep adding to this post until the pressure in my brain releases.

why does the first letter of each post indent a little with this new blog template? its driving me to distraction. i do like this new format though. it has the right ethos. is ethos the right word? what is wrong with my words?

I feel like someone played a mean joke and switched the letters on the keyboard of my brain so while i think im tapping out coherent thoughts its all ending up gibberish.

on sunday i saw a perfectly beautiful piece of theater, next to normal. i watched the main character, a middle aged well educated mother and housewife played by the epically talented alice ripley, fight and fail to win a battle with bipolar disorder and depression and traumatic hallucination and hysteria and a bitter cocktail of other undiagnosable issues and i related completely.

thats not to say that im there, im no wheres near there, im blessed, grateful, fairly fulfilled, relatively sane, basically grounded and extremely well supported by love but no part of me said, this is impossible. no part of me said, this will never happen to you.

infact, a large part of me said, if you dont figure out what you want out of life and then go after it, if you dont listen to yourself and what you need to be happy, if you make decisions out of fear and laziness, you will become isolated and self destructive. you will become an insubstantial colorless ghost of a human, comprised of the worst most loathsome elements of yourself.

and then i said to myself, lying in bed, rigid with anxiety: but by thinking this, by being aware of it, arent you allready sidestepping the trap? isnt awareness half if not almost all the battle?

no. i retorted to myself. no damnit no. why the fuck are you still in this job you hate that has nothing to do with what you want to accomplish, whatever that is.

oh, why? i replied, laying on the nasty patronizing tone that i know my self hates, let me tell you daisy. let me tell you what youre trying not to admit: you continue to tell people and yourself that youre "in the process of planning to prepare to make a decision to make a move" but you are not actively working on this move. and this is not better than saying, you know what, PR sucks but its all im going to strive to do in life. it is worse. because you, daisy, are aware that you are spinning your tires but you are using psychobabblejargonshit to justify the fear and laziness that is preventing an overdue change that might not directly immediately make you happier but will at least have the potential to introduce you to what would.

and then i thought, daisy, youre lying in bed conversing freely with yourselves and you are wondering if you have the potential to go stark raving mad? honey youre half way there. what are you going to do about it?

i want to travel and farm and read and listen and watch and wander through beautiful and ugly places and meet beautiful and ugly people the way i did when i took my year off between highschool and college but this time with eyes and mind open much wider than my 17/18 year old self. but im afraid of the dark side of travelling alone-or at least that i experience- that i never talked about with people when i came back.

everyone is always interested in that year. ohhh itttaallllyy they say, and i nod and smile as if italy is my little secret and when they ask i tell them something to reinforce all the cliches about tuscan life because thats all anyone wants to hear anyway. i gush about that the things i saw and the people i met because thats what youre supposed to do when youve been blessed enough to have the opportunity to travel.

but there are parts of it i have conveniently not mentioned. there were periods of loneliness, sadness, isolation and deep self destructive insecurity that i had never experienced before that year and that i havent experienced since. of course i have been sad and lonely in the last five years but its different from the safety of home. and i dont think those periods had much to do with being young but more with being uprooted and away from the people who stay so close to me that i dont have room to fall in any direction.

not a poem to fuck with.

There are people who will tell you
that using the word fuck in a poem
indicates a serious lapse
of taste, or imagination,

or both. It's vulgar,
indecorous, an obscenity
that crashes down like an anvil
falling through a skylight

to land on a restaurant table,
on th white linen, the cut-glass vase of lilacs.
But if you were sitting
over coffee when the metal

hit your saucer like a missile,
wouldn't that be the first thing
you'd say? Wouldn't you leap back
shouting, or at least thinking it,

over and over, bell-note riotously clanging
in the church of your brain
while the solicitous waiter
led you away, wouldn't you prop

your shaking elbows on the bar
and order your first drink in months,
telling yourself you were lucky
to be alive? And if you wouldn't

say anything but Mercy or Oh my
or Land sakes, well then
I don't want to know you anyway
and I don't give a fuck what you think

of my poem. The world is divided
into those whose opinions matter
and those who will never have
a clue, and if you knew

which one you were I could talk
to you, and tell you that sometimes
there's only one word that means
what you need it to mean, the way

there's only one person
when you first fall in love,
or one infant's cry that calls forth
the burning milk, one name

that you pray to when prayer
is what's left to you. I'm saying
in the beginning was the word
and it was good, it meant one human

entering another and it's still
what I love, the word made
flesh. Fuck me, I say to the one
whose lovely body I want close,

and as we fuck I know it's holy,
a psalm, a hymn, a hammer
ringing down on an anvil,
forging a whole new world.

--Kim Addonizio

I will give you a poem when you wake tomorrow.
It will be a peaceful poem.
It won’t make you sad.
It won’t make you miserable.
It will simply be a poem to give you
When you wake tomorrow.

It was not written by myself alone.
I cannot lay claim to it.
I found it in your body.
In your smile I found it.
Will you recognise it?

You will find it under your pillow.
When you open the cupboard it will be there.
You will blink in astonishment,
Shout out, ‘How it trembles!
Its nakedness is startling! How fresh it tastes!’

We will have it for breakfast;
On a table lit by loving,
At a place reserved for wonder.
We will give the world a kissing open
When we wake tomorrow.

We will offer it to the sad landlord out on the balcony.
To the dreamers at the window.
To the hand waving for no particular reason
We will offer it.
An amazing and most remarkable thing,
We will offer it to the whole human race
Which walks in us
When we wake tomorrow.

--Brian Patten

i just found the mother load of great poetry.

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don't paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I'm telling you is
Yes Yes Yes

---Kaylin Haught