Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Thanks, for real

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I wanted to tell you a story for Thanksgving.

I wanted to tell you how, when I was 23, I made the best Thanksgving dinner Highland Ave has ever seen (God, I miss my house on Highland) I wanted to tell you how I stayed in the night before (for the first time ever!) and blanched brussels sprouts instead of crushing long islands at Kev's Pub with my girls. I wanted to tell you what a baby my ex-boyfriend was about his deathly hangover the next day and how I managed to pull it all together at the last minute despite an incident involving a bloody nose and an almost fire. I wanted to tell you how I curled up at the end of the night, watching Sideways for the first time and eating Delice d'Argental with my fingers, and felt like I had finally entered adulthood and like things could stay that way forever.

And of course they didn't. That was the moral of the story I wanted to tell you. Things change.

But I wanted to tell you about what stayed the same, too. I wanted to tell you how right before that 23rd Thanksgiving, I received the largest sum of money I'd ever seen and in my infinite 23 year old adult wisdom I decided to invest it.....in as much vintage as my closet could hold. I wanted to tell you how I purchased this unnasuming BCBG piece that I ended up wearing that Thanksgiving, and how it sticks out in my mind more than any other detail about that day, how I've worn it a million times since, ripped it and sewn it back together. And I wanted to tell you how my Thanksgiving this year felt like a real holiday because I wore that dress and all it's history, because I followed a tradition that I made by accident while trying to be an adult, and that's why clothing is important to me, and that's the only reason I'd ever even bother to take a picture of what what I was wearing on a certain day or list my outift details.

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(I promise I will never be one of those fashion bloggers who bores you with endless outfit posts that all look the same and then feels clever because they managed to rip off someone other motherfuckers stupid, trendy look so accurately. I think that's shameful and disgusting. But seriously, though, have you ever seen a more perfect dress to wear on Thanksgiving? I promise you haven't because it does not exist.) IMG_7761

But I didn't write anything on Thanksgving. I barely even managed to take photos of the aforementioned dress. Instead, I made this hazelnut cake with brown butter (minus the chocolate) and it was quite possibly the best and most easiest cake I've ever produced, ever. I also made a stuffing that included way too much chicken stock and resembled more closely a bread pudding, but was adictively good nonetheless. I discussed with my uncle the promised benefits of listening to binaural beats and whether or not they could possibly be anything other than bullshit and I played with my new SLR and learned a tiny bit more about how a camera actually works.

Most importantly though, I felt thankful. Without warning or warrant, seemingly from nowhere, I felt thankful. I felt thankful because I felt at home. I felt thankful because this year, on Thanksgiving I felt like I was having a real holiday and not just honoring the ghost of some ritual I used to celebrate, in my old home, where I used to live.

This is my excuse. This is the reason I did not write you a meaningful story on Thanksgiving. I was too busy giving thanks. Being humbled by the kind of gratitude that comes swooping in like a storm and knocks you on your ass. Yes, things change, but on Thanksgiving for me this year, all the changes I have endured over the past couple of years added up to one of those perfect moments where all you can do is sit in awe and honor that perfection with the knowledge that it is fleeting and thing will change again. Soon.

So, I hope you can forgive me, for my lack of proper picture-taking and for my confession of supreme gratitude on a day that's not even sanctioned for that. And I hope you know that whether they are belated or not, my wishes that you and everyone you love should constantly be humbled and awed by intense gratitude are no less sincere.

Happy (late, late, late) Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

goodbye.

i can't even remember how many times I've written a post here swearing up and down that I would update this damn thing more often. and just as many times, I've broken that promise. i must confess, it's been a while since this felt like it was truly mine.

this has always been my "personal" blog. meaning that I wrote about personal subjects, but also, that I took it personally. i shared this blog with my friends, my family, my facebook. and you guys all read it! maybe you never commented, but you read it, you sent me texts, asked me when the fuck i'd get around to posting again, and because of that, I continued to write it. for you.

it's been a long time since my first entries in this thing have had anything to do with the person that I am now. i do not look back and cringe, as if wishing I had never been young or stupid or bratty, naive, in love. rather, i look back and feel disconnected.
i go through these phases where I think how much I want to write and I swear that I'm going to start updating this damn thing again, and maybe, just maybe, I can manage to push out three decent posts before the weight of all the baggage i've unloaded here over time becomes crushing and i lose my desire to write at all, because writing here has become a chore and that's never been what this was about.
but i do want to write. if you know me, you know that. i treasure my perspective more than i treasure just about anything else, and i go to great lengths to preserve and maintain it, to not allow it to be muddled or skewed. and I do this because I've always felt it would serve me well one day, and I've just decided that day is happening right now. it's been happening, all around me, for months and i've been ignoring it.
so, i'm not done writing. but I am done writing here. and i'm done writing for any reason other than to honor my perspective in all it's sloppy, vulgar, intense fragility, and if that's not something you think you can handle, than you're entitled to your opinion, but to be frank, I could care less about it. but if you do think you can handle that and maybe that it could even be fun or entertaining or worth five minutes of your time, then you can visit me here in the future.

i still love you, always.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

this microphone is not a dildo so you are going to have to cum a little harder than that


oh, jasmine mans. I just so happened to wake up so full of feminist angst this morning that I seriously considered quitting my job just so that I wouldn't have to come in today and look at anyone's stupid face, and then I saw this. Now, all I wanna do is watch it on repeat...and maybe make out with you a little.

love always