December tastes like

For all his Great Expectations

Forgotten house,
of lightened street
under which
I place my head,
Have my secrets.
In the secrets of every place
I see him,
uncertain intervals.
Intimate, curious place.
I have been discussing
that inexplicable feeling,
dazed, as if in lightning
we fell into parts.
Lay until returning pains disposed,
he held my heart.

the breakup

it happened
unexpectedly
i can not eat
or get out of bed
i've never felt so alone
or so sad
when do things get easier?

what happens when you discover you're ill...

and no amount of tea will fix you? 

When this happens and you are me you go about your life as if nothing is wrong and you continue to drink lots of tea, 

just in case. 

You also take day trips on days off. Or weekend trips if you happen to be lucky enough to have a whole weekend off. 

You try to stay positive. 

You always dress the way you want to be remembered.  

today

i am twenty four

he brought me roses

and just like that

everything is okay again

Dear this week, and last week,

 Saturday and Sunday too,

You suck. 

Please stop sucking.

I'm stressed out and irritable. My head is pounding. 

Not even my red dress could cheer me up in this gloom.

I'm mad at just about everyone, except for my grandparents who took turns talking to me on the phone and remember that soon it's my birthday. 

It's hard to be ambitious when your day job has you down and you live with the people you work with and you get in trouble for things you shouldn't be getting in trouble for because you're a hard worker and you want to make everyone happy all the time but this is not possible and no matter how hard you work someone will always find something wrong with the way you do things.

It's hard to get fuzzies out of your eye without a mirror. 

It's hard to be a girl.  

It's hard to stay mad at the people you love. 

I'm grateful for the color red, my grammy and grandpa, grammy's hand embroidered denim jacket, antique pictures in frames, and promises that are kept. 

  

God damn I am

lonely lonely lonely

right now there's a bird on my shirt and a bruise on my knee

i am a fever, i am a fever

i ain't born typical

kills on loop

seriously

Fuck my idiot ex boyfriend. How did I let him treat me so bad for so long?

Fuck you and your shitty paintings that people will only want to buy because you were in a stupid fucking band that nobody cares about anymore.

Fuck Germany and skinny blondes. 

Fuck you for lying to me. 

Fuck jealousy, how is it even allowed to be a feeling?

I want to hear "I love you" again. 

I want him to mean it. 

I want to get married, I want a family and a real home with my very own Cuisinart mixer so I can bake all the sweets my little heart desires. I want a room with lots of sunshine and a screened-in porch and antique furniture and framed things of beauty all along the walls. I want a big easel and lots and lots of art supplies. 

I want work to stop sucking. 

I want to get the fuck out of New York. 

more from the beach

Today Mookie and I went to the beach

I wonder, how does it feel to be older than most?

My great grandmother will be ninety four in a month, my mother and grandmother are upstate visiting her in a town that has nothing. I am back in Bay Ridge cat sitting yet again.
I haven't been able to sleep or eat much, Michael blew me off, I had a little melt down, I realized I am still a child.

he might've passed...

"We're all weirdos."
                               -Japanther, Saturday night

Hello August.

You've turned up faster than I thought.
Every year I have mixed feelings about seeing your warm face.
August means:

• The summer is dying. 
• I've been alive another year. 
• The ocean is warmer.
• Skin is tanner. 
• Was it everything I wanted it to be?

Summer, don't end. Virgo, don't grow old.

a text from him to me

" I <3 you"

From: Mookie Monster
Sent: Wednesday, July 28, 2010 3:01pm


At least somebunny does. 

Emilyism #23

If the door won't open, you should probably use a different key.



We broke up on Monday. We got back together 5 minutes later. No "I love you"s were said. Nothing. Just a long hug. I cried a lot and haven't been able to eat much since. I don't know what to do about anything anymore. I've forgone my usual method of dealing with life (eating my feelings) and instead replaced it with the much less healthy denial of feelings and so I'm starving them out. Yesterday I ate a muffin.
Today I woke up in his bed, he left for work very early, I woke up with him to say goodbye, I wanted to say "I love you" because I think maybe that will fix things but I couldn't, I told him via text instead, explaining that I was too afraid to say it out loud. He went to work, he didn't write me back. I couldn't fall back to sleep so I decorated a little tree he has in his room. I hung a sign around it that reads "The Tree Of Things I'm Afraid To Say". I wrote him a poem on tracing paper, I cut out each line and tied them with floss to different branches. I hung the most embarrassing words branch by branch:

I love you in the morning,

and in the afternoon,

I love you over breakfast,

I hope that's not too soon. 

The truth is I love you all the time,

even when we fight,

I don't want to be without you,

because I love you day and night. 

That's probably the cheesiest thing I've ever written and I'm not sure how he'll react but "The Tree Of Things I'm Afraid to Say" is a test. If he fails, it's over for real.

breakfast:

chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. 

I won't get into it but yesterday was not a very good day. I feel my relationship coming to an end really soon and all I want is chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. No other ice cream gets me quite like that one does, crunchy dark chocolate chips, smooth vanilla ice cream, yummy hunks of gooey dough, I could drown in it and it'd be the most blissful death imaginable. In March my two year relationship with someone I really loved ended, In April I was in another, with my best friend, and while he was there for me through all the heartbreak and helped build me up again, I'm realizing more and more every day that we're not really right for each other and I need it to end soon. I'm scared and unsure of what my next move should be. My art class ended on Saturday and my supplies went missing, I want to paint but right now can't, I'm unhappy at work, my relationship is failing, it's hot, my bathtub won't drain properly, I'm feeling a little hopeless and dejected. Cookie dough ice cream fixes everything.

last night

was a hot night in Brooklyn

yes

Goodbye Kitty

If I was your daughter and you asked me to catsit your gazillions of cats for a few days, you too would be getting this note of welcome:

Mumzie-doo,
Welcome back to the land of cats! And crazy midgets who wear t-shits that say "Little Jimmy"! And the weirdest land lady of all time (who I luckily had no run-ins with so she doesn't know you were even gone, though I did have one with the equally, if not more-so crazy grandson but he doesn't know you were gone either, conversation lasted about 2 seconds)!
I am writing you this welcome back re-cap Wednesday night which means I'll still have tomorrow morning to finish my duties but I'll have to get to work and won't want to think about note writing so I'm writing it now, if anything crazy happens I'll add a post script before I dash out the door.
So, cats were good, except that Mr. Ferris is bad about being locked up with urine food, but I already told you that. Liz was weird about being locked up with the boys the first two nights, I think she was just shy, so she stayed out all night with Kidden, tonight, however, she went right in. Giving all those meds to the kitten 2 times a day is a lot of work! In fact all the cats are a lot of work, I don't know how you do it! Kitten is good about her meds but it was hard to do eye creme, I hope I did a good enough job, I think I got some on the actual eyeball everytime. I fed her all the baby food just because she likes it the most and I'd get nervous when she wouldn't eat much of the wet or dry food because I wanted to make sure she was eating, so I used up the last of the baby food tonight.
I can't say I'm a huge fan of that clumping litter, there's lots of pee clumps in the bathroom garbage, I tried to get all poops out. I feel like the clumpy stuff just turns into one big clump at the bottom of the box that's impossible to get up. How do you deal with something like that? I started to feel like I was an archeologist going on some sort of rock dig after a while, only I had a pooper scooper in my hand and the rock I was picking at was really just a massive block of hardened cat piss. Good times.
Okay, I think that's everything. I ate a lot of your food. There's still some hummus and carrot sticks. No more cookies, a bite of lentils but they started to scare me towards the end. Enjoy your time back home! I get out of work at 9:00pm, maybe a little later, I usually have to stay late, but I'll try calling either when I get out or when I get home!
Talk to you soonsies!
<3 cat sitta emily

The Perks of Being in Bay Ridge

• I can sunbathe on the balcony (though it's not very private, I have to try really hard to pretend I'm on the beach, and I feel like all the weirdo neighbors are oogling me in my bikini).
• I can be as lazy as I want since there's nothing to do, I'm catching up on sleep.
• I haven't seen so much food in a fridge since the day I moved out. Happiness is built on eating and sleeping.
• Food Network and Alton Brown. I almost forgot how much I love Alton Brown.

Dear Alton,
How did you get so smart? Would it be possible for you to one day come over and make me a meal? I just watched you stuff tomatoes, they looked really really good, I don't think I could do that on my own though. What would I have to do to get you to come out here, make me stuffed tomatoes, and tell me all sorts of interesting facts about food? Just so you know, I find you very attractive and wouldn't be opposed to making out. Just putting that out there, do with it what you will.
Hope to one day be acquainted with you and your tomatoes.
Yours in food,
Emily

Texts from me to you

"I'm not mad, I'm getting ready for bed. I think I'll sleep for days. When I wake up my mom will be home and the cats will be skinnier and wiser."

To: Sean R.
Sent: Monday, July 20, 2010 2:37am

back where I began

It's a very late hour and I find myself sitting alone in the dining room of my mother's apartment in Bay Ridge. Ordinarily you would never find me sitting here, much less so late, but for the next few days here I will sit, in a part of Brooklyn that now feels like the middle of nowhere, cat sitting. I look around at the familiar furniture, cracks in the walls, dusty eucalyptus plant, mom's big blue floral painting mounted on the wall, and this feeling of distant deja-vu washes over me not from a dream or a premonition but from memory, because this was once my life. This small apartment in this strange neighborhood did not just house my mother and all her cats but me too, it was my home. Home, a place sacred and treasured. Now, just months later I find myself feeling incredibly detached, foreign, my mind has turned my dear old home into nothing more in my life but a bizarre memory.
By the time I made it here after sitting on two trains for an hour post work, the house was vacant except for the myriad of cats looking at me who all seemed indubitably hot, hungry and pissed. I promptly read from the long list of handwritten instructions left by my mother "there's pierogi's, hummus, tortellini salad, veggies, and take out menus if you want to treat yourself...Kitten meds are in the fridge...Just make sure poops are flushed, other waste in bathroom bag, and fresh water for outside cats too... They are great at being "put to bed" at night, they all settle right down..." Various other descriptions, a list of phone numbers of importance, and two $20 bills were also included.
I began the dance she performs three times a day every day, and now, 2 hours later, I can say I'm sitting alone in the dining room of the apartment I grew up in, there are 4 fed stray cats somewhere outside, 2 fat male cats and 2 skinny black cats are locked in the bathroom, also fed but with special urinary tract food, there are 2 shy female cats with dark dry fur locked in my mom's room, they've been fed regular food, the weirdest and skinniest of cats who pretends to want to rub against your shins but really doesn't enjoy being touched and likes her food watered down is under the bed in the living room, also fed, and the kitten's medicines (some that need to be administered via syringe to the mouth, some via a creme to the eye) are laying out on the counter waiting to be put back in the fridge while the kitten, fully medicated and fed, sleeps soundly in my old room. 12 cats have been fed, the paint is still peeling slowly off the walls, my old books remain on their Ikea shelf, ancient magazines and newspapers still lay about in piles and here I sit exhausted and bemused as I've just relived my mother's daily life. Now, there's a lot more going on in her life than just cats but it's puzzling how much thought, time, energy, and money she pours into all the smelly little affection-whores. It's no wonder I spent so much of my post graduation money on international flights and she's often so on edge. For the next few days I'm trapped in the life I ran away from, this is no longer my home, but for the remaining seventy two hours I'll have to call it that.
Did you say there was hummus?

2 poems

Unrest softens in
                  a lovely dream.
   Pleasure-giving, untroubled,
                  this was love:
unthreatening, enchanted, rewarding,
                                          giving more.



Emilie in reverie,
look at the world
             with melancholy.
The femme fatale crushing passivity,
       throw off all restraint.
               Provocative Venus,
               you cannot please all men,
               seek to please a few.

Recently

the roof of the building where I work went on fire.


I happened to be working when it happened. We evacuated the building and joined the crowd on Broadway. We met at Starbucks as instructed. We held a head count. We were all accounted for. We spent hours sitting on Crosby waiting to find out if we'd be let back in the building. We got paid to eat pizza in the street, bum style.
It was my favorite day at work thus far.

The truth of the matter is...

We don't know Anything about Anything.

Is it possible to still have feelings for old flames?

Ems
Hey there, it's good to hear from you. Sorry about your hoodie , who knows maybe someday you'll regain the same feelings of content that you used to have toward that sailor like decaled cotton throwover. Anyway Im extending an invite over if ever want to have the best breakfast in Williamsburg . Plus I can show you around my work, catch up.

Paulito,

I can not say what my feelings might be once I'm reunited with that old and soft blue thing. Being that it is 90 degrees in my apartment, in the out of doors, and in my place of work, I'm not so sure those feelings will include enthused, but we'll see.

I am accepting the invite. Off this week, are any of your mornings free? 

xoems

Staycation all I ever wanted

It's 1:43 in the afternoon and I have yet to eat a thing.
Today is the start of my last vacation days.
I don't have to be back to work until next Tuesday.
I don't really know what to do with myself.
People from my past keep popping up, I'm confused and lovesick.
Last night I drank too much. When I woke up I was lovesick all over the bathroom sink.
My boyfriend hasn't tried to sleep with me in a long time.
My left eye has had this inner twitch for a few weeks now.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Maybe I should see a doctor.

hold me closer tiki man

Love is the strangest of feelings.
How can a person be capable of loving so many different nouns at the same time?
I have always been in love.
I will always be in love.



People places and things i'm loving right now:
paintings. animals. Italian food. Michael H. summer. foreign films shown out of doors. my mother. the beach. Edward Scissorhands. book writing. book collecting. book reading. water. male models who make you feel like you must be special because why else would they want to hang out with you when they could be hanging out with anyone else? (Sean R, you make me feel special). old friends. new friends. people who like to talk and listen. stories. stripes. Mike F. re-reading old love letters from years ago. vacation days. thai iced coffee. pouffy dresses that pop up in the wind. fans. tea cups. giant tiki men who make me feel tiny.

this is the last minute of the first day of summer

la vie est belle

try to remember not to forget

self conscious and socially awkward

I have to leave for class in a few minutes. I'm scared. I haven't done anything like this by myself in a really long time. That portrait class I was taking at the Brooklyn Museum, that was with my mom and a bunch of other old ladies, it didn't count, but this, this feels like the first day of high school. What if everyone thinks I'm a freak? What if I bought all the wrong supplies? What if I do or say something really stupid? What if everyone else knows what they're doing except for me? What if we have to do that thing where everyone goes around the room and introduces themselves and says what they do for a living and a "fun fact" about themselves? What will I say?? I'll try to think of something kind of interesting but not too weird to say on my walk down there. What if I get hungry half way through and can't focus because all I can think about is food? Maybe I'll bring a snack. Okay, I need to find some clothes I won't mind getting paint on. I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared.

Mexico por favor.

Today was an extremely frustrating day off.
For one thing, it hasn't stopped raining since I woke up.
Also, I spent my morning reading articles and watching videos on CNN.com about the oil spill. Anderson Cooper looks pissed, as he should be.
I brushed my teeth and got toothpaste all over my shirt. Once in toothpasteless clothes I attempted to get out of the house which took roughly 3 tries.
Attempt 1:
I am outside, it's raining, I have an umbrella but I'm thinking I need a coat. I'm back inside, I'm in my windowless room, I turn the lights on.
Where the devil is my army coat???
I pull up the bed covers, throw coats off my desk chair, rifle through hangers and settle for an odd purple coat I never wear because it's sort of ugly, it reminds me of Barney, I feel very silly, I leave, I shut the door behind me....
Attempt 2:
Where have my keys gone?
I open the door, I'm back inside, I check the couch, the kitchen counter, I look on top of my desk and on my messy bed, I spot them poking through the heap of coats recently thrown on bed, I leave again and lock the door behind...
Attempt 3:
I should call Michael. What the? Where is my phone????
I unlock the door, I throw my keys and umbrella down, I'm inside again, I turn every light in the apartment on, I check every room, I stomp back and forth like a crazy purple coat wearing lady, I check all the same places 3 times and reach under the heap of previously mentioned coats, I feel it, grab it, and run back into the rain disgruntled and late. I call Michael. I meet him for a bagel and tea.
I get to Pearl Paint before they close.
I have to buy my art supplies for Saturday's class, I have a huge list and a hard time finding things, I enlist the help of 3 people who work there, Francine for brushes, missing tooth man for a wooden pallet, and the twitchy lisper for paints and turpentine. I take it all to the register, there is missing tooth man, he rings me up, he says, "Are you from Greece? You look Greek." and "Can I see your ID?" and "Whoa you had long hair. When did you cut it? Why did you cut it?"
I leave with a giant canvas and $200 worth of supplies. I cart all of it home in the pouring rain. I unlock my door, I turn the lights on,  I take out my receipt and examine my expensive new supplies only to find that missing tooth man who thinks I look Greek and seems to be just as upset about my hair as I am has left out approximately 5 very important items from my bag.
I go into my windowless room, I turn my laptop on, I start looking at cruises to Mexico.

i am going to be okay
you are going to be okay
we're all going to be okay

A change of heart and URL

Correction:
I am not delusional.
Except that I wanted to believe in someone I really thought I could. But that doesn't make me delusional, it just makes me naive and I'm still young so I'm allowed to be. Everything I write here is true and I'm not going to pretend that it isn't just so the girl you're seeing in Germany who somehow found this and reads it every day doesn't get upset. How did she even find it?? Did she google your name on skype? That's fucking weird. I'll be the first to admit that I shouldn't have done what I did. It was wrong, I should have never gone over there, but you should've never asked. If you've been secretly reading this too (and you have) than you know that I still love you. You know I'd do anything for you even if it meant jeopardizing what I have with someone else. But you lied to me and you used me.
I still can't believe this happened. You can delete me on facebook, you can tell that girl that what I wrote was a lie all you want, but that doesn't erase it from happening.
You told me not to write about you anymore, that I should at least use a different name, but Chris, I have never loved anyone as deeply as I have you, yet you have hurt me more than anyone ever has. I've mistaken the wolf for a lamb, this is tragedy, and I will write about it all I want. 

love should never be an angry word.

you know who you are

I had no intention of upsetting anyone.

This space was meant for me as a personal release. I didn't think anyone was reading but I guess I'm just naive and easily duped. 

I'm sorry for any hurt feelings.
Maybe I'm delusional, maybe you shouldn't believe everything you read, maybe he likes you a lot. 

Word to the wise: 

You will always find something if you dig hard enough. I was once that girl too. It's best not to look. 

confession

I am terrified of many things.
Some things include:

• forgetting everything
• my teeth falling out
• human centipedes and movies made about them 
• being alone
• ticks 
• getting shot and/or stabbed 
• spending any amount of time in jail
• getting pregnant
• losing a limb and/or becoming paralyzed 
• oil spills
• getting trapped in a fire

That's all I can think of right now, but I know there's more lingering inside of me somewhere. Anyway, it's a beautiful day, I have off from work, but right now I'm sitting inside of my windowless apartment thinking about all the things I'm afraid of. I think this is because I keep having nightmares. I woke up early after having dreamt I was sent to the Gulf of Mexico to administer drugs to animals that were soaked in oil. Everything about that spill makes me mad. Why are we even still using oil? It's because that industry has too much economic weight and so no one wants to go investing in any other sources of energy. Our world is built on money and that's the very thing that's destroying it. It's maddening to think of. I'm taking some art supplies and my sheet to the park, all I want to feel is the sun on my skin.

Motto of the day:
Try not to worry about things that aren't in your control. 

vacation

.tomorrow, Montauk...

dark party bars, shiny Cadillac cars

last week looked like this

Beauty chases the melancholy away. 

sometimes i feel crazy because

I never want to finish what I start

and 

I am always in love with what I can not have. 

i'm worried i'll love you forever

I just got off the phone.
I called him in New Mexico, crying.

"What's wrong?"
"I don't know, I just needed to hear the sound of your voice."

A bird flew out of the warm, still night and into his sister's bright house.
I heard hurried voices, flapping wings, a baby cry.

"I miss you."
"I miss you too."

my body is a wasteland

Dear whoever is reading this at this moment in time,

Hi. I miss writing a far too long daily email to someone I love who lives in another country. I've replaced this daily action with many others, some of which are illegal, none of which involve substance abuse (aside from the occasional drink or two), so don't you worry your pretty little head one bit. Some other daily actions now include: posse forming, graffitiing, motorcycle riding, and working longer hours than a person of sane mind should (though I suppose I did this before too). In the process of doing said activities I've managed to get little to no sleep over the past three days, burn my leg badly on the exhaust pipe of a motorcycle, permanently change the way my body will look forever part 7 and convince 3 other people to do the same with a drawing I drew, and give the Lower East Side a little face lift, Audrey style, there are 7 of her from Spring to Delancy, see if you can find them all. It's hot as hell in Brooklyn, and I'm starting to boil in my windowless cave, time to put the burn and I to bed. I'm thinking the burn should maybe have a name, it looks like a separate entity from my body because my not-so-terrible to look at legs now sport a big red blister which clings to the side of my right calf. I'll call it Gustav. Goodnight Gustav. Goodnight noisy neighbors. Goodnight discarded blankets.  

initiation

I'm starting a posse
Care to join?

watch this and learn

Today is going to be super.
Everything is going to sound like a great name for a band and/or book title.
Case in point:

Waking Up Wasted
Refill the Fucking Brita You Assholes
Broken Chairs
Busted Shin
Fat Ass
If You Call Me "Boo" One More Time...
Potluck
Yesterday's Makeup
Unwanted Company

tipsydoo

It is probably not a very good idea to create a new post whilst drunk, but here I am, 4:30 am, le drunk, after a night of trying to make new friends with my roommate/coworker/very good friend. We went to a bar up the block and met a bartender who was very old, so old he could maybe be my grandpa, though maybe a little younger than that, his name was John, he had an accent, British I think, possibly Scottish says Sibel but I should've asked, we met a very good dj named Mikey who plays old soul but sometimes garage so he says, and we met a really strange boy named Steven spelt with a "v" rather than a "ph" and he bought us a shot of tequila which we drank even though he was a weirdo. We went to White Castle for the first time ever, I had french toast and I felt as though I made the right decision. Some kid in there said he knew me from somewhere but I felt quite certain I knew him from nowhere, even in my drunken state.  I must say, I'm an excellent typer despite my drunken state. The reason I'm posting anything at all in this state of mine is because Steven said something hilarious that I have to write before I go to sleep and wake up in the morning having forgotten. He said to Sibel, "Hey, you have this weird mesh thing on your head." To which she replied, "Dude, that's my hair." Oh Thursday night, you might've made made me stay at work until 1:30 in the morning and skimp out on the amount of pretzels you usually supply in my vending machine snack of choice, but in the end, you did me well. Looking forward to Friday off.
ps: I think my boyfriend might just be a bit dumber than yours. Yes, he might just be, and it depresses me greatly. More on that when I'm not so tipsy.

The human condition is a strange thing indeed.


"I don't like what Mr. Curtis has done to you."
I did it to myself.

no pushin'

Oh hello. I just spent the past 4 hours sleeping in the middle of the day, it felt delicious. One of the perks to not having any windows in your bedroom is being able to sleep with ease whenever you want, no matter the time. That's just about the only perk I can think of.
Last night I went to my first major league baseball game.  Though I looked utterly out of place and couldn't relate to any of the thousands of people decked in orange and blue surrounding me, I had more fun than I thought I would. This might only be because I was a little drunk, also I found spicy veggie dogs, also I heard a grown man shout, "NO PUSHIN', NO SHOVIN', I GOT PLENTY A HOTDAWGS!," also I had field seats, which means I was very close to the action, also The Mets won 4-0, which apparently never happens.
Nilea is stuck in Paris.
I'm writing a children's book.
I'm worried about Jenny.
I'm longing for a different time.

guess who's back

hello laptop.
hello internet.
we meet again!
while you were gone the world kept spinning and a whole lot happened.
for one thing I caved and let myself have a new boyfriend, one who is here.
we're weird.

everything is different now

I miss my laptop,
and the internet.
I miss my hair.
I miss having windows.
I miss waking up and seeing the sun.
I miss writing in my blog.
I miss my mom, sometimes, though not so often.
I miss good nights of sleep.
I miss free food and meals I didn't cook.
I miss an assortment of teas.
I miss the cats, sans all their fur and smelly poops.
I miss refrigerators that are filled with things other than just beer.
I miss not being around people who smoke.
I miss everything that's familiar.
I miss quiet.
I miss feeling home.

though these things I do miss, moving out was quite possibly the best thing I ever did for myself.

Things are not the same as they were before

Friday night
rain rain rain

Over the past few weeks my life has changed greatly.

Here's how:
I can no longer call the man I've been in love with for 2 years my boyfriend. You already knew that. But I love him still, the severity of which came as a surprise even to myself. I miss him deeply.

I'm taking a portrait class at the Brooklyn Museum every Sunday and so far I'm really pleased with my work. I like who I am as an artist and I think that's important. I've realized this is something that makes me feel connected to the rest of the world, it's something that excites and challenges me, I want to do more of this, always.

You can now find my signature on a lease! As of Monday the 15th of this very month I officially reside on Metropolitan Avenue in a Brooklyn neighborhood far from the one I grew up in with people who are not my mother or a gaggle of cats. I can't believe this is actually happening. I'm nervous and terrified and excited and stressed and so happy I could do a lot of dancing without getting very tired. But first, I pack.

I have no hair. See below video. A crazy man named Gerard chopped it all off whilst I sat on a stage in the middle of a bustling convention center under glaring lights in front of a crowd of strangers with video cameras. Watching as all that was once atop my head fell into my hands as silver scissors snipped, I quickly learned what being a hair model meant and will forever avoid any and all invites to International Beauty Shows in the future.


I have no boyfriend, I have no hair, I am an artist, I'm not a very good model, I'm moving on, I'm moving out.

can anyone tell me where my hair is?!

Original Video - More videos at TinyPic

oh my god

all of my hair is gone

March of Horrors

It's March 4th and I'm sick.

Also depressed. 

I'm too discontent to explain, I've been sitting here erasing everything I write it because I can't get the words out right and it's stressing me out. 

No more writing. 

bed. "Relaxing Time" tea. blankets. sleep. 

But first, some pictures. 

I was walking home from a terrible day of work. Stupidly sick and a little wobbly I got to the block where my house sits and began to notice all these things that were just awful. It seemed that every time I took another step forward I was faced with something else that only fueled my depression. I thought it a little coincidental and odd to find so many things wrong on one block so I took a few steps backwards and took pictures. Halfway through I saw my landlady, who in herself is an awful sight, and I had to stop because I didn't want to give her an excuse to talk to me. So, this isn't everything, but here are a few of the things I saw on my block today that really depress me...

Show me something beautiful. 

nevermind

I'm staying in.

today I

ate too much thai food.
pulled out a fortune tucked in a cookie.

"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift." I always get the weird ones.

washed my hair.
curled it too.
drew a girl that is purple sans pencil.
drank Jasmine tea.
packed up my shit.
I'm leaving for the night.