that thing you do

i had a nice night. i went to the "birth of the cool" gallery show and there were cocktails and pastry puffs. and i had some bombay sapphire, which is suprisingly yummy, and then i went out dancing and then i watched the life aquatic with a boy who is not good enough for me physically but is very sweet and has a nice singing voice so we'll see...

i don't think alcohol has an effect on me
very weeeird
well ok maybe a little bit of an effect
but i am like in control you know?
i really wish i had a tove
i want some pasta
but i don't like my pasta al dente like they serve when i order delivery from that italian place
i like it really soft
and yummay


i've been eating like a hog lately but knockonwood not gaining weight so hayyy woop

i looked really cute tonight
you would have definitely bought me a drink, random lurker :)

cupid

happy valentine's day.

blah blah, i realize there's a whole anti-vday movement based around the "consumer driven commercial holiday" aspect and the materialistic nature of this kind of love. but i like valentine's day. and i'm single- very, very single- so it's not that i'm caught up in the romance of it all.

for me, valentine's day isn't about loneliness... it's about possibility. yes, vday is totally commercial, but isn't that just wonderful? that there's such a big market for love? that's got to mean something. if attempts at building a business around love were to fail, then i'd be concerned. but look around: everything is red. even if we aren't in love, i can rest assured, knowing that i'm not waiting for some alien emotion, something that no one's ever found.

it is leviathan
and we in its belly
looking for joy, some joy
not to be known outside it.

- the ache of marriage

that has been speaking in my head all day, for no reason. i'm fully alone but hardly lonely, except when i think about it really hard and how it'd be nice to have another set of fingers and eyelashes and lips entwined with mine. but. hey. that's just how it goes.

all the wise elders keep saying that i'm not the kind who will find love.. love will find me. and i know that's cliche, like everything else in my silly little phase of oxygen consumption, but i wonder if it's true. cause i'm looking, kind of, and i'm not finding it. except maybe love for myself.

i guess i'm just really weird.
not in a bad way, just in a way that makes it so that i've got to wait for the one other weird person in the world to come along, the one other person who's not feeling so lonely tonight but rather, just..

hopeful.

la fille danse

a taste of my writing in response to renoir. guess the painting, win a prize.

Completely still at the center of all chaos, like the eye of the storm, I watch this polite destruction as the lives around me twirl and fall, little ballerinas on exhausted toes. I could have been one to spin across this stage, I could have danced around the small talk and the laughter, the coy looks and blush cheeks. But I have chosen to sit still, as this dull man’s jokes flutter off his tongue like lackadaisical butterflies oblivious to my eyes as they roll back into my skull.


(c) JMS