Princess Leia--my style icon and role model...
I was wearing my Princess Leia hairstyle when I met my cool girl neighbor today! It was a fun time.
07 September 2013
06 September 2013
That Blog Meta
I just have a thought. Does every single blogger EXCEPT ME out there have absolutely NO IDEA that every single blog is really all the same? Because I'm fairly sure we all think we're so different. You know? But there're always little groups of y'all who do exactly the same things. We have the "pastel grunge kawaii girl" right over here, who makes shrines in her walk-in closets and abandoned gardens to anime characters and glitter erasers and creepy doll heads, and listens to Nirvana and Lana Del Rey and j-pop, but there are like fifty mazillion of you guys all over the place!
I can't even BEGIN to go into detail about how many "hipster" titles people have given themselves in the blogosphere, and on Polyvore too. We have the 90s kids, the kids who were born in the wrong era, the angsty kids (although really that applies to everyone), the lolita kids, the kawaii kids, the grunge kids, the retro kids, the free-spirited kids (although everyone knows who the REAL free-spirited kids are), and so many others. Then, in the more obscure and creative corners of the blogosphere, we have the hybrids. These are the people that proclaim themselves to be these weird mutant names that will occasionally contradict each other, ranging from "geek slacker"--wait, what?--to "pastel lolita grunge," and so much more in between. What is this?
Well, I'm wrapping it up because I'll go on forever like this, but I'd love to, y'know, start up a whole conversation geared toward the sophisticated meta on the internet. So just think about this. And listen to Everybody Loves You Now, which has nothing to do with anything, except that it's Billy Joel, so of couuuurse it has everything to do with everything.
I can't even BEGIN to go into detail about how many "hipster" titles people have given themselves in the blogosphere, and on Polyvore too. We have the 90s kids, the kids who were born in the wrong era, the angsty kids (although really that applies to everyone), the lolita kids, the kawaii kids, the grunge kids, the retro kids, the free-spirited kids (although everyone knows who the REAL free-spirited kids are), and so many others. Then, in the more obscure and creative corners of the blogosphere, we have the hybrids. These are the people that proclaim themselves to be these weird mutant names that will occasionally contradict each other, ranging from "geek slacker"--wait, what?--to "pastel lolita grunge," and so much more in between. What is this?
Well, I'm wrapping it up because I'll go on forever like this, but I'd love to, y'know, start up a whole conversation geared toward the sophisticated meta on the internet. So just think about this. And listen to Everybody Loves You Now, which has nothing to do with anything, except that it's Billy Joel, so of couuuurse it has everything to do with everything.
05 September 2013
Say it ain't so
Woke up this morning, smiled at the rising sun
Three little birds
Were on my doorstep
Singing sweet songs
A melody pure and sure
Saying
This is our message to you.
* * *
I've gotten into printing out the lyrics of songs I like and analyzing them. Music is poetry, you know? That sounds so hippie, but hey, there's nothing wrong with that! #hippielife with Elinor Beveridge.
Anyway, so, that was Three Little Birds by Bob Marley (AND THE WAILERS!), in the case you're so ill-informed that *cringes sympathetically* you don't know that song. Hopefully, you do.
I have an amazing story! We ate at this place called Land Ho! last night for dinner (yes, exclamation point included), and it's totally stereotypically Cape Cod, New England in general. Everything on the menu was some variation of fried [insert seafood here], and there were all these families and, my favorite, old people just chilling out and having a dandy old time. They happened to have Billy Joel on, which was awesome. And THEN! And THEN! I was just minding my own business and making fun of this guy in the corner who was wearing a blanket over his head and looking like the Sheikh of Cape Cod when it happened! I realized that Land Ho! yes, Land Ho! was playing the oddest song selection. It was alternative and relatively obscure, you know? Anyway, Land Ho! was playing SAY IT AIN'T SO! Throughout the whole restaurant! I almost--to quote Steven Spielberg--vomited from the excitement of it all. It was a happy evening for me.
So I'm staying at the Chatham Bars Inn, in Chatham (no, really?). It's pretty schnazzy. It's really nice and pretty! I like sitting out on the beach and watching the boats, or fishing. I caught a bunch of dismembered crab appendages! It was a fun time. And on Monday school starts. Which is terribly weird, of course. But this year, I have a great new army rucksack, so I'm completely prepared! And we basically bought out all of Uniqlo for my "fall wardrobe." Life's good, you know? Again, more hippie sentiments. I more or less attempted to structure my life this past summer by making to-do lists, so here's mine for when I get home. Not that I'll actually end up DOING anything on it, but y'know the drill. I like to think that I'll be accomplishing something...
To-Dos For When I Get Home
-communicate with Tess about baking/movie-watching! Ahem, Tess.
-load up schnazzy army satchel
-confirm film dates
-get bike
-play tennis
-download podcasts onto phone--This American Life, Skeptoid, Coffee Break, otras lenguas, etc.
-practice MICHEL!
-de-clutter shelves of closet
-develop piéce list
-work. on. calligraphy.
-Know what would be cool? A fish tank with books in it.
-organize desk
-brainstorm for massive bulletin board
-GET the bulletin board, uh-huh
-read L'Oignon (sorry! Sorry! The Onion, mleeeeh)
-go to the Harringtons'
-get more books at book sales
-re-read Bad Boy for school
-wear 1984 shirt--yes folks, I got a 1984 shirt. Brown University bookstore! Ach, the benefits of going to college and not having the obligations of, well, college.
-No Woman No Cry (long story)
-PM Jezzy and tea-at-sunrise
-make stickers/flyers ("If you like [e.g., Simon and Garfunkel], read I Was Aiming for Clever!")
-talk to L & Cat about fall fair
-make first-aid kit
Three little birds
Were on my doorstep
Singing sweet songs
A melody pure and sure
Saying
This is our message to you.
* * *
I've gotten into printing out the lyrics of songs I like and analyzing them. Music is poetry, you know? That sounds so hippie, but hey, there's nothing wrong with that! #hippielife with Elinor Beveridge.
Anyway, so, that was Three Little Birds by Bob Marley (AND THE WAILERS!), in the case you're so ill-informed that *cringes sympathetically* you don't know that song. Hopefully, you do.
I have an amazing story! We ate at this place called Land Ho! last night for dinner (yes, exclamation point included), and it's totally stereotypically Cape Cod, New England in general. Everything on the menu was some variation of fried [insert seafood here], and there were all these families and, my favorite, old people just chilling out and having a dandy old time. They happened to have Billy Joel on, which was awesome. And THEN! And THEN! I was just minding my own business and making fun of this guy in the corner who was wearing a blanket over his head and looking like the Sheikh of Cape Cod when it happened! I realized that Land Ho! yes, Land Ho! was playing the oddest song selection. It was alternative and relatively obscure, you know? Anyway, Land Ho! was playing SAY IT AIN'T SO! Throughout the whole restaurant! I almost--to quote Steven Spielberg--vomited from the excitement of it all. It was a happy evening for me.
So I'm staying at the Chatham Bars Inn, in Chatham (no, really?). It's pretty schnazzy. It's really nice and pretty! I like sitting out on the beach and watching the boats, or fishing. I caught a bunch of dismembered crab appendages! It was a fun time. And on Monday school starts. Which is terribly weird, of course. But this year, I have a great new army rucksack, so I'm completely prepared! And we basically bought out all of Uniqlo for my "fall wardrobe." Life's good, you know? Again, more hippie sentiments. I more or less attempted to structure my life this past summer by making to-do lists, so here's mine for when I get home. Not that I'll actually end up DOING anything on it, but y'know the drill. I like to think that I'll be accomplishing something...
To-Dos For When I Get Home
-communicate with Tess about baking/movie-watching! Ahem, Tess.
-load up schnazzy army satchel
-confirm film dates
-get bike
-play tennis
-download podcasts onto phone--This American Life, Skeptoid, Coffee Break, otras lenguas, etc.
-practice MICHEL!
-de-clutter shelves of closet
-develop piéce list
-work. on. calligraphy.
-Know what would be cool? A fish tank with books in it.
-organize desk
-brainstorm for massive bulletin board
-GET the bulletin board, uh-huh
-read L'Oignon (sorry! Sorry! The Onion, mleeeeh)
-go to the Harringtons'
-get more books at book sales
-re-read Bad Boy for school
-wear 1984 shirt--yes folks, I got a 1984 shirt. Brown University bookstore! Ach, the benefits of going to college and not having the obligations of, well, college.
-No Woman No Cry (long story)
-PM Jezzy and tea-at-sunrise
-make stickers/flyers ("If you like [e.g., Simon and Garfunkel], read I Was Aiming for Clever!")
-talk to L & Cat about fall fair
-make first-aid kit
03 September 2013
J'ai une histoire
Writing from Chatham, Cape Cod, on the windowsill, and it smells like gouda. WHERE'S THE MOSS SMELL FROM OUTSIDE, EH?! Who says you have to go inside when it's thundering?! Nature, with the combination of parents and responsible obligations, is just unfair.
* * *
She stood around and watched the rain plink on the porch railing. She didn't suppose it was actually making a sound like that, but water going about PLINKing was a commonly used term. The little splashes on the railing looked like spiders. She supposed a crab analogy would be more appropriate.
She sat in the chair and got soaked to her skin. There was a coating of sand on the back of her calves and thighs where her shorts ended. Her sketching paper grew see-through and then it ripped in places. She watched water drip off her nose by crossing her eyes a little.
She wiggled her sock feet in the flooded water on the porch. The socks made her toes itch a title, but she didn't mind, really. She thought about taking a kayak into the bay while it was raining. She would watch the lobster boats and the lady with the blonde hair who jabbered on about her job, scavenging for clams in the sloppy sand.
Then there was a small burst of thunder. And lightning, the second bolt, soon after, looking like a set of chopsticks crossed over each other, and thunder again. She sighed and smelled it. Smelling was her favorite sense.
She knew it was time to go in. Her parents would be worried. No outside when it was stormy, by herself at least. She walked inside, and her dad turned on the light when she wanted it off, and it smelled like smoked gouda from today's 4:00 aperitif.
She watched the rain behind the shutters and the screen, but it wasn't the same.
She thought maybe the smell was the problem. It was the smell.
* * *
She stood around and watched the rain plink on the porch railing. She didn't suppose it was actually making a sound like that, but water going about PLINKing was a commonly used term. The little splashes on the railing looked like spiders. She supposed a crab analogy would be more appropriate.
She sat in the chair and got soaked to her skin. There was a coating of sand on the back of her calves and thighs where her shorts ended. Her sketching paper grew see-through and then it ripped in places. She watched water drip off her nose by crossing her eyes a little.
She wiggled her sock feet in the flooded water on the porch. The socks made her toes itch a title, but she didn't mind, really. She thought about taking a kayak into the bay while it was raining. She would watch the lobster boats and the lady with the blonde hair who jabbered on about her job, scavenging for clams in the sloppy sand.
Then there was a small burst of thunder. And lightning, the second bolt, soon after, looking like a set of chopsticks crossed over each other, and thunder again. She sighed and smelled it. Smelling was her favorite sense.
She knew it was time to go in. Her parents would be worried. No outside when it was stormy, by herself at least. She walked inside, and her dad turned on the light when she wanted it off, and it smelled like smoked gouda from today's 4:00 aperitif.
She watched the rain behind the shutters and the screen, but it wasn't the same.
She thought maybe the smell was the problem. It was the smell.
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