01 September 2007
thank you
To the burly, blond motorcycle man who felt inspired to slow his bike, wink, and twiddle his fingers to wave as I walked by: Thank you. Neither your good deeds, nor your faded-and-fraying, forest-green-button-down-shirt-with-the-sleeves-cut-off went unnoticed. You brightened my day.
26 August 2007
international downpour
This is the loudest rain I´ve heard in a long time. I´m in love.
P.S. Don´t tell the dishes.
P.S. Don´t tell the dishes.
10 August 2007
06 August 2007
lyrics
I'm almost positive that this song playing here in the gallery says "Captain Nemo said Okaaaaaaaaaay. [Five four three two one!]"
Go figure.
P.S. And then this other one Might be saying "Rockin' the Casbah."
Go figure.
P.S. And then this other one Might be saying "Rockin' the Casbah."
bicycle
Ouch.
Yesterday, I was out bicycling with my Hathacomrades and through a certain alignment of the stars, I fell off my bike.
Truth be told, I turned the corner by 7-11 and had to swerve behind a car and then my front tire skidded off the sidewalk ever-so-slightly, and then I flew. That part was neat. Then my left knee touched down. My right knee did this cool cement-skimming trick. Ooooh, and then I did this wicked break dancing move: you know the one where you balance all of your weight on one hand (my right, in this case) and then your shoulder's all Two-point Balance! and then your hip's like "Man, I want in on this!" Yeah that's what it was like. But the extraordinary thing was that all of my digits on that one hand bent oh-so-backwards, and whoa. My knee was yellow and my teeth didn't crumble out and no holes-in-the-clothes!
So I think Hillo screamed and Heather Gasp'd. Then this Sweet Brah was like "Dude, you okay?" I looked up and thought "Neptune? Pluto? Which time-space continuum did I crash through?"
Oh, I hopped back on my bike and we started riding again, but Hillo was fretting and oohing and ahhing and Heather was quite sensible and "No, Hillery. She hurt her knees, she doesn't need to lay down and put her feet up." But I did it anyway. I think I might have gotten struck by lightning too. But not really. But this jolt of electricity, or maybe adrenaline kicked in and I was amazed.
So cool.
And then Heather was a doll and followed me home to make sure I didn't get picked up by the Bad Men from the Circus, or something like that. And we didn't tell Josh and Caitie inside yet, because it wasn't a Big Deal. And I showered and it was weird because I had to keep myself awake and Lather, Rinse, Repeat. My usually rosy-red face was creepily colorless. And then I recovered because of Josh's Magic Healing Hands, and he was nice. And Heather was good and kept my crashy secret and spoke in French and that was cute.
Caitie gave me drugs. A+.
And we went to the party and the Epic Story of Flyin' Amy had been featured on a channel on La Radio Cocotier, spread from Hillo to Adam to who-knows-who, so all the others at the party later were deliciously adorable and some Rockstar Corpses sang some songs, and all was well. And I got to talk to Guatemala, and Guatemala might have been on drugs. I love them all.
And my ice-pack later wet the couch. I blamed Ryan.
It really wasn't that dramatic.
But ouch.
Yesterday, I was out bicycling with my Hathacomrades and through a certain alignment of the stars, I fell off my bike.
Truth be told, I turned the corner by 7-11 and had to swerve behind a car and then my front tire skidded off the sidewalk ever-so-slightly, and then I flew. That part was neat. Then my left knee touched down. My right knee did this cool cement-skimming trick. Ooooh, and then I did this wicked break dancing move: you know the one where you balance all of your weight on one hand (my right, in this case) and then your shoulder's all Two-point Balance! and then your hip's like "Man, I want in on this!" Yeah that's what it was like. But the extraordinary thing was that all of my digits on that one hand bent oh-so-backwards, and whoa. My knee was yellow and my teeth didn't crumble out and no holes-in-the-clothes!
So I think Hillo screamed and Heather Gasp'd. Then this Sweet Brah was like "Dude, you okay?" I looked up and thought "Neptune? Pluto? Which time-space continuum did I crash through?"
Oh, I hopped back on my bike and we started riding again, but Hillo was fretting and oohing and ahhing and Heather was quite sensible and "No, Hillery. She hurt her knees, she doesn't need to lay down and put her feet up." But I did it anyway. I think I might have gotten struck by lightning too. But not really. But this jolt of electricity, or maybe adrenaline kicked in and I was amazed.
So cool.
And then Heather was a doll and followed me home to make sure I didn't get picked up by the Bad Men from the Circus, or something like that. And we didn't tell Josh and Caitie inside yet, because it wasn't a Big Deal. And I showered and it was weird because I had to keep myself awake and Lather, Rinse, Repeat. My usually rosy-red face was creepily colorless. And then I recovered because of Josh's Magic Healing Hands, and he was nice. And Heather was good and kept my crashy secret and spoke in French and that was cute.
Caitie gave me drugs. A+.
And we went to the party and the Epic Story of Flyin' Amy had been featured on a channel on La Radio Cocotier, spread from Hillo to Adam to who-knows-who, so all the others at the party later were deliciously adorable and some Rockstar Corpses sang some songs, and all was well. And I got to talk to Guatemala, and Guatemala might have been on drugs. I love them all.
And my ice-pack later wet the couch. I blamed Ryan.
It really wasn't that dramatic.
But ouch.
01 August 2007
26 July 2007
summer thus far
The Great Outdoors, the Great Indoors, medium cheddar and whole grain crackers, flats of slightly too-ripe strawberries, Late-night silliness, krumpfest biznass, outdoor films under the abundant stars of Sundance with cuddly friends sprawled out on blankets and grass, watching fireworks from rooftops, stargazing on little blankies whilst interpreting dreams.
Guilty musical pleasures, superfluous discussions and then those at the other side of the spectrum, phone loss and ... cocktails, ubergigglyness, plane tickets to far-off lands, the prospect of simply living on the beach, blues voices, nostalgia and accompanying scents, slow and steady music, childlike wonder at pyrotechnic displays of patriotism, llamas and Brahma bulls.
Super late-night everything, including grilled cheese sandwich extraordinaires, les autres soirées, over-the-top celebrations of cake and dancing and révolution! stealing away to not-so-far-off-lands for little bouts of adventure, social family, un peu, dance dance dance, too much time in gallery silence and awkward glances, plaid shorts and frilly skirts, noel en juillet, heart-to-hearts, strawberry frappuccinos, lengthy stays at bookshops and public parks, depth, mildly illegal trespassing, swimmingswimmingswimming, reprimanded booty-dancing, dollar movie mind-drifts, comfortable awkwardness, silent attacks and loud reactions, camaraderie.
Guilty musical pleasures, superfluous discussions and then those at the other side of the spectrum, phone loss and ... cocktails, ubergigglyness, plane tickets to far-off lands, the prospect of simply living on the beach, blues voices, nostalgia and accompanying scents, slow and steady music, childlike wonder at pyrotechnic displays of patriotism, llamas and Brahma bulls.
Super late-night everything, including grilled cheese sandwich extraordinaires, les autres soirées, over-the-top celebrations of cake and dancing and révolution! stealing away to not-so-far-off-lands for little bouts of adventure, social family, un peu, dance dance dance, too much time in gallery silence and awkward glances, plaid shorts and frilly skirts, noel en juillet, heart-to-hearts, strawberry frappuccinos, lengthy stays at bookshops and public parks, depth, mildly illegal trespassing, swimmingswimmingswimming, reprimanded booty-dancing, dollar movie mind-drifts, comfortable awkwardness, silent attacks and loud reactions, camaraderie.
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