Tuesday, November 15

Brought to you by: the letter "e".

(found on the sidewalk yesterday in San Juan Capistrano, right near a pink baby sock. weird.)


Do you guys remember those coloring books where you just painted over everything with a wet paintbrush? There was that little hint of color on the page, here and there, and you could sort of manipulate where you wanted to strongest concentration of the color to go with your brush. End results were pretty dang similar to this (not sure that this is an actual page from one or not?):

...so yeah. Good times.

And then there were the good old "stained-glass" coloring books, that you could tape onto your window afterwards:

Stained Glass Coloring Book

Day 77: I. Am. Such. A. Dork.

...ahh, good times. Those cellophane-like pages were so fun to marker in, even if the end result was never quite as spectacular as one would have liked.

FYI if you're my best friend you would get me this sweet Ms. Pac-Man water-color book from the '80s. yessss.

Saturday, November 12

it's not vicious, or malicious.

Friends, i have spent the entire day on the internet. This is not a lament, or a boast: it is a simple truth.

And i found some stuff.

This lady's comics are great.

Here are some photos that are not mine:

The National Geographic Photo Contest is at it again. Have a gander!

i just discovered The Fray. It has good stories in't. Sat here reading for an hour or more.

(All of the orchids in my house are almost done blooming. Feeling poisoned from smoking too many cigarettes. i think we'll eat pumpkin pudding for dinner.)

i drank too much last night and would like for that to not happen again. There was a variety show among friends: "Africa" was covered, and Nico, as well as "Groove Is In The Heart" (complete with slide whistle). There were rum balls and Guinness cupcakes. i found a "k" in a snapped-off twig. The clouds were like cotton balls stretched out across the sky. i was finally able to say aloud to someone that i was having a difficult time getting truly involved in the 'Occupy' movement because i feel that there are bigger problems in the world... his response was that, well, doesn't the problem of the rich getting richer sort of have a hand in most (if not all) of those other problems i was mentioning (rape, slavery, lack of clean water, etc.)? It was a tough call; i had a hard time clarifying my position and verbalizing what i meant. Also, as i believe i already mentioned, i was pretty inebriated.
Oh, to have excellent speech and debate skills!

Tuesday, November 8

This post brought to you by a hangover.

how does a day take shape? there are distant hums, sirens, and cages..
smells and sounds, inner rumblings.
cloud swaths, ethereal
and the cold, hard ground.
there might be a dusty road
or a bright smiling face.
lines on your hands, and on trees' trunks,
(everything is growing)
light reflecting in pools of inky water.

we are trying to keep something alive.


Someone thought of us, once.

It's true–
we flashed across their brain pans and for a brief moment
each and every one human
(some robust, some passing in and out)
was quickly and carefully
lifted up
and held;
lovingly inspected
each and every inch.
But there is not enough time
can't look for very long
So they closed their eyes and imagined, hard

emblazoning all of the faces,
and garments,
and shrieks (of laughter, and pain!)
and endless possibilities
of combinations.

it burned brighter and became a din,
until the moment passed,
and they resumed their own life
picked up where they'd left off
(where was it?)

Someone thought of you, once.