snow & gunpowder

Headlamps; good for finding things, like a 1/1000 puzzle piece under the pub table (almost left it behind. disaster averted.). It only slightly tousles the hair, and really only enough to give it a bit more body, which is always a plus in my book. Big = better. It seems to fit my style in a way it doesn't fit the styles of those who are expected to have big hair (hello, Texans). "Big" means "wild" when it comes to hair, and I think that description is proper for me. Headlamps are also good for reading on nightly road trips, when one is reading and wishes not to disturb sleeping travelling buddies. They're so much more mobile than those flimsy book light clips that one must tediously readjust with every page turned. Not the case with a headlamp. Your light moves with your head, so your line of vision is consistently illuminated. I'm all about efficiency. I've given myself a secret [for now] task in lieu of New Year's Resolutions. It requires ...

The places you never thought you'd go. The thoughts you never thought you'd think. You might go there. You might think something strange and illuminating. I have a habit of examining the ends of my hair with harsh scrutiny whenever I feel mentally and/or emotionally and/or creatively overwhelmed. "Is that a split end? Not anymore. Because I am boss at removing split ends. I am a split-end master." If there's only one thing I understand about my life, it is how to deal with my hair. And then I feel in control. The beauty of being aware of one's perma-embedded artistry is the ability to see and feel and hear so many things at one time. Even in a silent room, in your apartment, by yourself. The dilemma with this quality is that things rarely get sufficient attention individually, thus disabling them from reaching completion. This happens in an alarming percentage of my endeavors. For instance, currently:    4. The song playing overhead is intriguing me. ...

-- Rules of Invalidity -- i) Immediately upon determining that something foul has entered your system, lie down. You will not regret taking it easy at the onset of your illness. Exertion of energy can prolong your predicament by a great deal. ii) As soon as possible, enlist the assistance of someone you trust with your life in order to obtain all necessary remedies and aids, as you will not want to be driving all over town trying to pick them up yourself, hurrying so as to make it home in the shortest amount of time possible, to allow for the most amount of time to rest, which only ends up requiring you to run or walk hastily through aisles and parking lots, thereby exerting more energy than is prudent for one in your condition, and possibly even making your symptoms worse.  iii) Guilt and shame (alternately, or simultaneously) the above individual to remain with you for the duration of your illness because you might die, after all, and we wouldn't want you ...

You learn things about yourself when you're under house arrest due to an incessant fever.      1) You learn how much you like sleeping. In my case, I realized that if I'm not sleepy, it's near impossible to make myself fall asleep. This is a conundrum when all of the strolling in the sunshine I wanted to do was out of the question, since the general understanding was that the less physical energy exerted, the better. I read a lot of articles instead.      2) You learn to appreciate how substantial food is. Most people eat too much. Multiple studies have shown it. I've found it out by ordering one meal at a restaurant, splitting it with my fiance, and still feeling stuffed. When you're sick, food counts. Little bites, little sips. Flavor is shocking.      3) You learn to appreciate the importance of an aesthetically pleasing home. It has been a hard-sought goal to get rid of anything in my apartment that is not either a) highly functional...

green tea ice cream - films at the art museum - night walks at the lake - luncheoning on memorial grounds - holding hands - baseball caps and overalls - makeshift beds and makeshift bathrooms - dewy grass - impromptu demo construction projects - venison and smoked pork with extended family - blackberry wine in virginia - scaffolding and historic architecture - MANCAKES - antique-shoppe-ing - free sushi rolls - solo dates - unexpected overnight stays - learning laughter's power - beach-marching in jeans and a grey cotton sweater - gritty, sweaty manual labour - the darjeeling limited / amelie / midnight in paris / girl with a pearl earring / west side story / safety not guaranteed - derek webb / marina & the diamonds / bailiff / jars of clay / amanda palmer / songs for water / kopecky family band / the vespers / the civil wars - moment-to-moment living - cooking for the beauty of it - uncanny "coincidences" - best year...

New favorite nail polish color: think of the deepest, darkest ocean you can. It’s that color. A blackish green-blue that just shines. New York City is bustling, humming, buzzing, whirring, vibrating, dancing. More on that later. People shouldn't fight about petty issues that miss the point altogether and waste everyone's time that could be much more effectively spent, if folks would set their minds to it with a little research and elbow grease. In other news: LONDON 2012. I think I'm rescheduling my British trek for sometime post-Olympia.  And now...down to the Deep South. God, life is beautiful.

Part of me is re-thinking my decision to visit London and Dublin this year.  I'm not sure if I feel rushed/forced by my own critical expectations, or if I just don't have enough money this year.  Sure, I have enough to purchase a ticket, secure my lodging, and find sustenance.  But I just don't know if I can go it alone.  Flying out of the country alone is one thing.  Fine.  Flying out alone and staying out alone for a full fifteen days is an entirely different thing altogether.  This isn't Mexico we're talking.  Mexico would be a breeze.  I know how to dodge conniving taxi drivers.  I can place an order with ease, even requesting extra cream, or 'no onions, please'.  I can haggle my way to an appropriately-priced wooden letter-opener.  But they speak English in that part of Europe, and that can be a tad more difficult to navigate, conversation-wise.  Deeper things can be said in one's own heart-language and, as a matter ...