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A girl living, loving and writing in Los Angeles.
August Listening
August Reading
Favorite Places
Copyright 2001 - 2008 by Ann, unless otherwise noted.
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Monday, January 31, 2005
I'm STARVING. I really want a pizza!
Okay time for bed because my broke ass should not buy a pizza/don't know where to find one at 2am.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
"You're Just A Baby" by Belle & Sebastian
So shoddy internet connection lost my last entry.
In short: all moved in, pictures when things are strewn around in more of an artistic manner and less of a pile manner. My Vagina girls are fucking awesome. Random creepy boy from poetry class OVER A YEAR AGO needs to stop sending me poems about smelling me (apparently "cinnamon and sugary"). This is exactly why I don't talk to people in class anymore. People are freaks!
Couldawouldashouda like to talk to someone tonight. *bats eyelashes*
Stay classy.
Friday, January 28, 2005
"Just Like Heaven" (covered) by Pete Thurston
So I'm packing up my life for the fifth time in barely 9 months to move tomorrow; and of course the 77F sunny weather has been replaced by stormy gray rain. WTF.
I'm listening to my whole music collection (1000+ songs) while I do this, which I haven't done in awhile, and I forgot just how much "Just Like Heaven" by the Cure (and covered by almost everyone) is my favorite song, ever. Pete's version of it on the piano is so sweet.
Show me show me show me
How you do that trick
The one that makes me scream, she said.
The one that makes me laugh, she said
And threw her arms around my neck
Show me how you do it
And I promise you
I promise that
I'll run away with you
I'll run away with you
Spinning on that dizzy edge
I kissed her face and kissed her head
And dreamed of all the different ways
I had to make her glow.
Why are you so far away? She said.
Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you
That I'm in love with you.
Mad love for craigslist
Craigslist is a miracle; in the past week I have gotten my roommates addicted. Together we have accumulated: a replacement roommate, two living room sets, and a $17,000 2003 Celica. Oh and a pimp for Whitney.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Blood Oranges.
I really want to move somewhere far far away, without a trace. I'm tired of having origin. I want to leave behind everything that is attached to me because I'm starting to believe that belonging somewhere and belonging to people's lives is where the hurt comes from. I want to be the girl with no name and no past, the girl with no family and no friends. As good as it is to have, it's so hard to lose. I can never win. I am self-confessed to be selfish, ragingly selfish. I hate hurting. I also believe I can be replaceable. Maybe somehow I can suffer a great bout of memory loss and forget everyone I ever knew, and then I can move and move forward. Maybe I should also dig out little pulps of this useless heart of mine so that I won't know what I'm missing.
I think it's time.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Let There Be Light: a blinding stream of consciousness
I just don't think it should be this hard. I'm spinning spinning spinning and things are running after me, my back and my neck ache as a reminder that I'm getting just too damn old for this. I'm going somewhere, I say, Where, Europe? He says, No, Seattle, I say. Oh, He says. When are you coming to San Francisco? Still the same time I'm gone? I say maybe. But maybe Rome then too.
I'm running and running and I know we're dipping our toes in this pool, maybe pushing the blame the plate of slimy blame back and forth - while piling more stuff on and maybe hoping that in pushing some things will fall off and fall between the cracks of the picnic table we're sitting at in the park. And then maybe everything will stop mattering; the stuff that falls between the cracks because we never had the courage to mention it will not matter anymore.
However, I strongly fear that is not the case. He wants to marry you, she says and I throw up a little bit. Don't say that, it's not even funny. Not Even Funny. No one ever wants to marry me.
I'm reading all these fictional novellas right now and lines are blurring into my reality. Snow was born from a cigarette butt in a cup of tea. I was born in ashes and delirium. Somehow that generates heat.
So that is what's between us, this heat. This heat that no one wants to touch because we know it's dangerous so we keep pushing. Pushing it here pushing it there, touch and go touch and go. But if I wanted to jump in, would you hold my hand. And even if you held my hand because you had no other choice, would you hold it and keep swimming with me, no matter how deep this goes? Or will it be like that time Justin was holding my hand as we were swimming further out into the choppy fucking ocean and he let go as the undertow came swiftly by dragging me underneath and I could feel the water filling my lungs until I saw a blur of orange and a lifeguard reaching out for my hand and grabbing my arm and walking me back to shore?
Will you let me drown to save your own sorry hide? Will you drown in yourself to turn the tables?
I see these pictures of Rome, where my friend is staying for the next four months, and the quaintness and the loveliness of it all sucks me in. I believe that we can make anything we want happen; that's the liberating freedom I gained from going abroad. I learned from a summer in England that I can indeed take on the fucking world. My body is reminding me that I have limits, but my heart is full. A really good friend who is too kind tells me that my heart is too big for my tiny body. I hope it always will be, no matter how many people let go of my hand when the undertow comes.
Alan is moving from London to San Francisco for Ilissa. That romance happened with a blink of an eye -- I was on a plane back by the time things were even materializing into something Real. And here we are, six months since, and in a few weeks he is moving here and she is moving there and it's so good to see two crazy kids make it happen. It's so good to see two people fall in love, and maybe believe in it too. Maybe I should have found myself a British boy to bring home too. But that wasn't what I needed.
I found that so many things have not happened in the past year so that other things can happen, and I know so surely that it happens for a reason. That's the only way I can live, if everything was random as some people like to think -- then I would fucking implode. My world would stop. There can't be no reason to a tsunami in Asia, like there can't be no reason to God or the universe or divinity. Maybe there is no reason in it all -- but you can make reason. You can make reason of what is in front of us because I know that you know the answers that I'm seeking and yet it's all a big fucking pink suede elephant in the room and neither of us want to address it. This isn't love. If you don't want to talk about it, then it isn't love.
How long can we not address it at the rate that we're barrelling forward? Barrelling. That sounds crazy. Crazy/beautiful lovely chaos. You're perfect, he says. Why isn't perfect good enough, I think.
I'm losing myself in chaos. I used to always be about my chaos. Chaos gives birth to a dancing star. Nietzche. Worst date of my life. Where's my dancing star?
I know nobody is going to read this because it's too fucking long, but I like it because it's so raw. No precognition, no thinking about what this says about me. This is the inside of my slimy grey head. I'm filled with arrogance and self-assurance, wreckless self pity and self self self. I'm in love with myself. I like to talk about myself.
But maybe that's the only thing I can ever have authority on. I'm so scared of being wrong, and I liked that you were the only person ever interesting enough to keep me interested, to keep me researching so that I could keep up. I learned so much, I'm learning so much. But am I going to drown in what I'm not learning; when did this all stop being good and start being hard.
I don't think it should be this hard. This is life, and life's hard and it fucking sucks but it's all we've got, she says. What is life? Where is it? Am I waiting for it to happen? Am I waiting for the other shoe to drop? When did this all happen? The time it moves forward and moments like your mother telling you that she has lumps that might be eating her alive suddenly make you feel like you're alive in the most unpleasant way. The way that the plug is removed and you realize that reality is fucking gray potato sacks and tasteless starch compounds. Give me martinis and Manhattan and cute men, she says. Give me an idealistic reality, I say. A friend tells me I'm a hopeless romantic, deeply hopelessly romantic, despite my protests. Maybe I want to believe in a thing called love. But then again, maybe Love is Only A Feeling --
Let's address the pink elephant, let's jump into the pool. I think that whether or not you hold my hand, and whether or not we sink or swim -- together -- will be what matters. But this all needs to be done because time is real, and real is life. The world is on fire.
Should address all my letters to The World to Be...
About a month ago Cathy & I were shopping for boots for her. I was standing next to her at the register, fiddling around when I realized that the tails of my 2 year old black winter coat were still stitched together. Borrowing a boxcutter (that was all they had behind the register), I finally cut the string and now my coat is happily free floating. I think this speaks volumes about me and my natural habitat.
Yet, one of my friends is really pushing me to go to grad school in Boston because she is absolutely positive that I would love it. I'm not so sure I am cold-weather-compatible, considering how bipolar I became during the three weeks of southern California freak storms. I really think I would love living in Santa Monica and going to art school in LA while working after college; I know I'm being a total sissy but can it be my fault for being born and raised in a Mediterranean climate (in which only 5% or less of the world possesses)?
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
The Packing Begins.
"The Secret to Great Sex. Oooh keep that." Danielle reads and tosses the magazine onto the "keep" pile.
I love Danielle.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Happy Facts
Vagina Happy Fact (one of my favorite parts of the show):
The clitoris is pure in purpose. It is the only organ in the body designed purely for pleasure. The clitoris is simply a bundle of nerves: 8,000 nerve fibers, to be precise. That’s a higher concentration of nerve fibers than is found anywhere else in the male or female body, including the fingertips, lips, and tongue, and it is twice, twice, twice the number in the penis. Who needs a hand gun when you’ve got a semi-automatic?
Ann Happy Fact
As of today, Ann is a free bird! Free bird moving in five days! Roommates signed, sealed, delivered. Tomorrow is packing and tea&sympathy day with Danielle. Or in our case, packing and fatty dessert & shopping day. Yay friends! Next up: moving, rehearsals, Vagina Monologues shows, Seattle. Haircut: yes or no? Short, choppy, sweet.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Funny night.
Funny night.
If funny meant slightly awkward.
Will the universe always send me the boys I don't want,
and then for secret reasons --
turn the situation from bad to cute?
Good to see so many friends,
throat sore from shouting over music,
and probably the second hand smoke --
but the balcony was friendlier than
the room of gay dance sport men.
Gracious for being saved by
homoerotic friends who believe
an Ann sandwich is the way to go.
('Saved from' used loosely, as I was the
crazy bitch with a poor immune system
who led him on to call me for three weeks
before realizing that I was actually just
blowing him off.) Sorry guy,
last October was a bad time to find me
"pretty goddamn adorable".
"You go first, I'll go second."
Cameron grins a lot, but it makes me comfortable.
I feel like a girl of 18 again.
Whitney grabs my arm to convince me
to be wreckless: "Don't waste the pretty."
"Also, Ace of Base: Don't turn around,
don't turn around."
Getting my ass grabbed &
crotches rubbed up against my abdomen --
how did we all get to this place,
some shared space without some words
STOP STEALING MY LINES --
I want my fucking Aidan back.
Strange how this all has become common
& this is what almost graduating means.
Funny night.
If funny meant slightly awkward.
(The form means nothing, I just felt like lots of returns.)
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Cocktail Party
Some of my favorite quotes from tonight's cocktail party (to be captions for pictures when I get them):
Kira: There are PENISES IN THIS PICTURE!!
Kira (again): My face is really maleable.
Darin: Are you so sexually frustrated that you're going to fuck a nonhuman?
Friday, January 21, 2005
"Such Great Heights" by the Postal Service
Playing certain favorite scenes from Garden State over and over in my head make me so happy in such a simple way. Maybe in hopes that in the storm ahead, which hopefully won't be too painful and jolting to weather, there will be someone who will hold me close in a bathtub and catch my tears in a paper cup.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
It's a dangerous liason.
I love my Vagina girls. Particularly, I feel incredibly lucky to be cast in an ensemble piece. It's my version of being cast for the Sex and the City ensemble: we're all so different and so good together. Case in point: after rehearsal tonight, I had to catch a shuttle that was rapidly approaching to pass us. Two of the girls and I started waving it down and acting pretty so the shuttle would stop in the middle of the street -- which it did. It was such a fabulous SATC moment.
Laughing with them while going over our piece and screaming "Yes, there, THERE!" was such an incredible release. Especially after finding out some really terrifying news about my mom's health this morning. I've never been more scared in my life because this is my worst fear realized, and I don't think that I can move past it.
But enough serious shit. More fluff.
Charlotte: Big is in town?
Carrie: He's here for a heart thing.
Miranda: What, is he on the list to get one?
A Letter for the Boys: Handle Your Scandal!
I am so fucking tired of boys. Boys with their lies, and their indecision, and their inane belief that they can just drag girls into their fucking messes because they don't have the balls to own up to their situations.
I am so fucking tired of boys who lie, boys who deceive, boys who hurt hurt hurt others, boys who want their fingers in all the pies. I'm so fucking tired of this selection of boys not only because they ruin girls but because they ruin it for other boys. Although I also like to keep my options open -- I don't fucking play with people and their lives and hearts. People are not fucking options; have the balls to cut some strings and let some people go. Some people are just too fucking selfish to let go of others. It is also fairly ignorant to believe that it won't all come out whether you bring it out or not -- which only makes it about a million times worse.
Hmm dirty laundry. Dirty dirty dirty.
Whew.
Had to get that off my angry chest.
Back to novella.
P.S.
WHITNEY GO TO SPAIN OR YOU ARE DEAD TO ME!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Just a guy like you, maybe just a girl like me, maybe we could take a walk on the wild side
Alex's entry on her move to Santa Monica made me feel a whole lot better about southern California. With the running away I keep doing (just yesterday I booked some plane tickets for a trip in February), it's good to be reminded of the magic and maybe I do want to take off my shoes and stay awhile.
It sure is swell to have 77F summer days where the air is like soft warm cotton all day long in January, a job that gets you free access to the San Diego Zoo (where I take my lunches watching polar bears and penguins), and classes that make me write madly/prolificly/badly/beautifully. I discovered a lot of great places this past weekend for shopping, coffeeing, & music (including the darling boys who work there with shy smiles). I haven't felt this in love with my home since Gina visited me last May.
To jump off the over-appreciation wagon I apparently built and live on, NOT GOOD: getting suddenly, violently ill resulting in cancelling potential apt-viewing appointments and repressing the intense urge to vomit while on the after-work traffic back. Lingering blooming migraine and 15 more pages to write on a story about nothing except two people who run away, and talk a lot.
Word of the Day: cheeky
I apologize for the site news being so boring as of late, and my rather cryptic behavior. Things are chaotic, to put it mildly. But here is a great dish on my life, by way of an email from a friend from England:
And it will be especially nice to have a soul mate reunion (maybe we can run a way and get married, Britney style?! Although our parents might disapprove, and besides, you're much classier than Britney so maybe it's not such a great idea.)
So there it is, the dishy news. I'm getting married in Vegas in a few weeks!
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
It's funny that I've been doing this for around six years, and I used to be really vehement in my belief to not reedit/delete entries because I wanted to honor the moment, no matter how embarrassing, yet now all I do is re-edit and delete. Maybe it's a sign of maturity that I've learned revision is not a bad thing. Or maybe I'm regressing because I can't fess up to my mistakes anymore.
Hmm. Conundrum.
Also, where would I be in this world without friends like April who (despite two children and a husband) has the time to listen to me and tell me to keep my chin up, keep it on the up & up? Nowhere. That's where.
Ugly night; ugly morning.
I feel very much like Joel Barish at the beginning of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind; I want to pick up and run to the otherside of the tracks and hop on a train to Montauk. I can't do anything right right now.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Her Own Motivation
To Do Today
(So everytime I go online and check my site, I'll be reminded to put my butt into gear).
- Meet up with Yung
- See Alice's place
- Talk to roommates about release form
- Write 5-8 pages of novel
- Write French Paper
- Study for French test
- Read Thomas Hardy's Imaginative Woman at Whitney's
- Phone sesh with Gina
- Start reading The Alchemist
- Write album review
"My Insignificant Other" by Gregory Page
This weekend I acquired four albums, one pair of earrings, and a really hot Alice-in-Wonderland inspired top. I also got a paycheck for $35.94 that will barely cover two albums and a pair of earrings. And I intend to survive on my own somehow in a little over fourteen months.
That aside, I'm terribly thrilled about my music purchases because a) I need new music & b) I am completely for supporting independent artists. I bought:
1) Happiness is Being Lonely, Gregory Page
2) Hang On Little Tomato, Pink Martini
3) Sympathique, Pink Martini
4) Trouble, Ray Lamontagne
I think I have the biggest problem closing doors because I like to have my fingers in all the pies. But without closing a door, sometimes windows can't open (it would only get too drafty). Tonight, much to my surprise, a couple windows flung themselves open. I think I might have to close a door soon so that I don't get caught up in a tornado beyond my control.
What the hell are you talking about Ann? Time to go to bed, or twirl these delusions into novel form. All I'm saying is, I'm having those moments where you pause and smile to yourself, Life is so good. I am so lucky.
I think I will call my grandma tomorrow.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Happy Vaginaday!
(If you're totally freaked out about Vaginaday, this entry explains it all.)
What a morning can change! I have now found a new place to live that has so many good things tied to it that I'm crossing my fingers and zipping my lips so that I won't jinx myself. I'm working hard on reassuring my current roommates that it is not because of them (they are sweet as hell). Everything is falling into place so far. In about a little over two weeks I could have a potential roommate in a girl I adore, a room of my OWN in a much hipper area of San Diego, and so much joy my heart could explode. It's refreshing that sometimes you don't have to pushpushpush so damn hard just to make things happen; that sometimes the universe is tossing some positive energy to help you out.
I hope you are having an amazing day as well -- it's another perfectly plentiful sunshine 71F day and I'm going to go seize it with a great friend. Bisoux!
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Ain't No Sunshine when she's gone.
I usually begin my day with weather.com. I love it when it says: Today: Plentiful sunshine. Precip: 0%. High 71F.
Seems like it's going to be a skirt-and-flats kind of gorgeous day. Perfect for cafe exploring, cafe novel writing, reading, journaling, and cookie-baking.
ALSO I may have to reconsider the stipulations of a bet I made; I'm not sure this is a fair fight when my three greatest defenses are taken away from me this weekend. Cathy is in Seattle, Gina is in Pennsylvania, and Whitney is in San Luis Obispo. But I will stay strong & persistent, and Whitney can help me evaluate the situation. BE PERSISTENT!
Friday, January 14, 2005
Here is an interesting concept:
"This life is too short to live it just for you."
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Paint it pretty in gold.
I should be shot; I had fast food for the first time in a year (at least?) and got so disgusted with it that I threw it away after I took a few bites. My arteries are clogging as we speak because they are not used to the intense amount of fatgreasynonfood. This is probably a reflection of how I've been treating myself lately; like garbage. 13 days into the New Year and I've already fucked up.
So to take a stimulatingly self-indulgent moment, here are ten statements about me. Guess true or false.
01. I have short hair.
02. I rock at human biology.
03. I used to be anorexic.
04. I made a boy cry. He kissed me. Then I made him cry again.
05. I have a huge scar on my lower back.
06. I speak four languages.
07. I broke my foot in Paris.
08. I'm a 32 C.
09. I love my vodka like a fat kid loves cake.
10. I have kissed 18 boys.
I'll reveal the truth after 10 people have taken their guesses. If not, I won't ever tell the truth.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Oops.
So I don't know what I did but I somehow fucked up the site this morning, so I'll be using this Blogger layout until I have time to fix it (hopefully this weekend). This hungry beast ate half my site, & being the genius that I am I didn't back up.
I've still got to do this verbal vomitage thing, so here we go. I knew something had to go wrong because this morning I woke up it was BEAUTIFUL and we had our blue skies and bright sun back. It's so good to live in southern California.
ALSO I am so fucking bipolar. I was elated when I got home. I made this lovely southwestern vegetable stew with mushroom rice, and now I'm not hungry. Instead, I feel like vomiting and tearing my brain out and smashing it against the wall so I can never think again. Maybe I can peel off my skin and wash out everything underneath. Start over again.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
& feeling like a lost little boy in a brand new town
Today the clouds have finally parted, and though it was bitterly cold, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. On my drive back to school from work this afternoon, the sun was setting on my left and a huge rainbow was painted across the sky on my right. It made a beautiful little arch over a hill in the area of downtown I'm reallyreallyreally hoping to call my home for a bit by this fall. My CD player on shuffle put on Jason Mraz's Sleeping To Dream, and I could not stop smiling the rest of my ten miles back to campus.
Thanks universe, I got the message.
Back to madly working on this novella.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Somebody told me that you had a boyfriend who looked like a girlfriend I had February of last year.
My roommates are the swellest! They know I've been going through a rather patchy time back, and when I came home today I found a bouquet of pink tulips and a card waiting for me. I am truly truly truly lucky.
I am reading road signs much better now for mapping out this year, with great support from the great people in my life. One of them being Paul, who, when I asked, "What is this all for?" replied brilliantly, "Something Bigger."
Somebody told me recently about how certain things (like books or music or people or opportunities) just find you when you need it. I really like that; I think it's such a cute concept. I really believe in it. Somehow, this gives waiting for certain things to happen a purpose.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
The Alchemist
"My heart is afraid that it will have to suffer," the boy confides to the alchemist one night as they look up at a moonless night.
"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself," the alchemist replies. "And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encouter with God and with eternity."
(The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho)
Vagina Sundays
From now on, I hereby dub all Sundays Vaginaday. For one, because our cast meetings are on Sunday morning/afternoons for 3-4 hours each week. I was dreading our first one back a bit this morning because I didn't sleep until 5 am last night and I had to get up at 10 am, but once I got there I was reminded of just how incredible an experience this all is. Oh and the second reason is because since Sunday is generally the day of religious worship -- what greater thing to worship. (Although my vagina would disagree that she is getting worshipped very much lately and she keeps nagging me to get a friend or a plane ticket).
The point of how incredible this whole experience is; every meeting we have check-ins -- which is a time where we literally sit there, all 25+ of us, and each take turns talking about what's been going on with us. I know, sounds totally hokey and group-therapyish, but it's SUCH an incredible experience -- especially for me right now feeling as alienated as I do and unwilling to connect -- to hear the dish on all these incredible girls who I love so much already. I miss this a lot while I'm in school, especially with 9:30am - 6:30pm work & school everyday and all my best friends living in different area codes. So another long story short, I was so happy to be reminded that these meetings are my happy place. Because I really don't feel like I have people in my life here who I feel I can connect with as much as I do with these girls. It is so so so important to me to have these strong relationships with girls.
Synopsis for those who don't want to read all the above: the Vagina Monologues are changing my life already, opening my mind and warming my heart; I feel lost; love my vagina girls; I love these meetings because they make it so easy to be me; and to be completely in my vagina zone right now: GOD I MISS SEX.
& after all that rambling...there's still so much chaos in my head.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Great Moments with Mr. Thurston
I think one of my greatest moments of 2004 is when my friend & rock star extraordinare Pete serenaded me for my birthday with "If I Only Had A Brain" at his show. & the encouraging conversation and great hugs that followed. Small great moments with truly great people. I need to grip onto them for dear life, both to keep from slipping further into a hole so deep only a firefighter without collarbones can reach me and so that I can turn them into something useful for my novel and/or screenplay.
"Do you consider your book to be autobiographical?"
"Isn't everything autobiographical?"
(Before Sunset)
It's a Loneliness Adventure!
I'm scared because I think this is what the "real world" is made of.
The loneliness is viscous and I don't swim well.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Oh! The things I'm learning at school!
I was planning on dropping one of my classes before the quarter started because I knew that if I go to it, I'll never drop out. I've heard raves about this professor, and after the first class I was completely romanced by her concepts of workshopping and writing that I want to take all her classes. So now I'm roped in, and I refuse to drop because I can't say no to a challenge. (Even a 65 page novella in two weeks challenge).
School starting has erased my previous feelings of dread. My bipolar episodes, my schizophrenia, my depression is all justified by the fact that I'm a writing major, according to my professors. Every one of my writing classes is a tribal meeting of the mad, where I'm not the only one taking crazy pills. One week almost over; ten more to go.
This real world business is not as hard as it's turning out to be; I've learned that the human condition can suffer through tons of shit because everything is all just a matter of getting used to. The apartment business is running well too; the beginning of the quarter leaves room for being clean and considerate. All the whirly instability though, is the fact that maybe this is it. In a year, there will be no more classes (at least for credit), but there will be a real job and a real apartment of my own. It all gets very very lonely to come home; even coming home to four other girls is alienating. So this is why people get married. It's inevitable. I'm getting married. OR I am starting a small colony by kidnapping all my friends and forcing them to all live with me.
All the holidays last year were sort of anticlimatic because I just expected them to come along and spontaneously be fabulous. But since most of them involved me sitting and sulking, I've decided to start planning ahead.
I think for next Halloween, I want to be Margot Tenenbaum.
Also: Pick three songs that remind you of me. Comment here to let me know. Then post this in your own blog to compile a soundtrack of you made by your friends.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
"Smoke" by Tristan Prettyman
Dear Santa,
I know it's a bit early to be writing, but I figured that it's better to get my Christmas list in early so that you can start working on it. There is a lot of stuff I'd like, but I promise to be a very very good girl this year and meet you halfway.
By Christmas this year, I would like a fabulous flat with lots of character and modern plumbing. I also would like a fun and equally anally clean roommate to share the flat with. Moreover, I want enough room in this apartment to have a nice lush full/queen sized bed on the ground. Also, I would like to have quite a few design/art-related jobs under my belt and onto my resume. Adding a few trips, including one back to Europe, to this list would also not be a bad idea. I would also like to maintain good health this year. Most importantly, I would love to have everyone I love dearly to be alive and well to celebrate the end of another year with me.
Thank you.
All my love,
Ann
P.S. A few darling items from Anthropologie & Sugar Paper would do too. Cheers!
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Stop Storming, Goddammit.
The storm is putting me in an utterly desolate and depressed mood. Or maybe it is the waking up at 7:30am to get up and go until 8:00pm.
I miss the sun, it came out for a bit right after work.
So here is a list of good things that come from the sun and lack of rain that makes me happy, and hopefully it will romance my sweet sunny weather back:
- Watching the sunset as I drive back to school from work on the 5.
- Plenty of catalyzation of my Vitamin D to make me a happy girl again!
- Cute skirts are part of business casual too, especially when it's warm.
- My winter coat is tired and would like to rest.
- Cute flats again! Flip flops!
- Spring will come sooner!
- Catnaps!
- Salads!
If I wanted to live in perpetual rainy weather, I would have stayed in London or Seattle. (Neither of which, ironically, currently have rain.)
Monday, January 03, 2005
Future Plans: Quit School. Quit Life.
I realized on the drive back last night that by the end of this year I will have applied for grad schools (if I still intend on applying for grad schools) and/or be graduating. That means I have portfolios to put together and standardized tests to take.
I want to bang my head up against the wall until my brain turns into mush and leaks out of my ear.
I want to gouge out my insides and smear them across the floor so that I can crumble into a wrinkly, restful pile.
No, not this again. I'm too tired. Let's not do this again. Please just be brave.
I hate business casual. Internship started today; business is just not for me.
One day of school and I have already traded my peaceful happiness for anxiety & assignments.
I feel like I'm dying on the inside. I really need good naps, more hours in the day, and a good conversation with a really good friend because I fear my heart can not bear the weight of these days alone.
So nothing then.
Yes, yes you can.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Welcome, 2005.
Yesterday one of my best friends was telling me about how Open Water was made: with a director, his wife the producer, the two actors, a day job, and a lot of chum.
"Do you know what this means?!?" Justin looks at me with wide eyes.
"Don't swim with chum without shark mesh?"
"No! It means WE CAN DO THIS!" He waves wildly between him and I.
During junior year of high school we had both decided we wanted to be film majors and that we would start our own production company after college. Four years later, he's a mass communications major and I'm a writing major. But majors mean shit; dreams, passion and persistence mean everything. You can only make it happen if you can visualize it.
Tonight, I visualized myself a little iPod cover a bit inspired from Annie, while watching Farhenheit 9/11. I learned that I can indeed, talk to the tv while sewing. How's that for making it happen.
Here's to wishing you the most amazing new year & hoping that 2005 rocks your world in the most pleasurable way! My only New Year's Resolution is to follow my heart and enjoy the adventures on this journey around the sun.
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