I Stole Your Wishes.

I wish I had two lifetimes.
I wish I could make a backwards baseball cap look cool.
I wish I had a bottle of wine.
I wish getting drunk was more dignified.
I wish I felt like I belonged everywhere.
I wish English was my second language.
I wish I had a million friends
and that they all had a million friends
and that we could all laugh at the same joke
and find each other terribly witty.

I wish you would look at me the way you did the night we met:
like you were afraid I'd self-destruct if you said something stupid.
I wish life was like the movies
so that the best moments always had a great soundtrack
and that first kisses were applause-worthy.

I wish I could read every book. Ever.
And be so smart it'd make my mother cry.
But I also wish my mother didn't cry.
I wish all girls knew how beautiful they are.
I wish all boys would tell girls how beautiful they are.
I wish romance wasn't dead.
I wish chivalry could be resurrected.
I wish everyone could hear how all the world's sounds
become a symphony late at night when it's just
you and the moon and your heartbeat.

I wish I could stay up until dawn every night.
I wish I could wake up with the dawn every morning.
I wish that sleep was optional:
luxury rather than necessity.

I wish people could keep secrets.
I wish that books would always keep that "new book" smell.
I wish my bedsheets would smell fresh for longer than two days.
I wish I could read your thoughts.
I wish I had Audrey Hepburn's eyebrows
and Grace Kelly's hair.

I wish men would just be men.
I wish that everyone would say Thank You more.
I wish I knew when death will come,
because maybe I'll be on holiday when it does.

I wish I had two lifetimes
and that the one I have now
isn't half as good as it's going to get.

I wish that things would always, always get better.

The Next Chapter.

Does anyone out there keep a journal? For those of you who do, you probably know what I mean when I say that fully completing one is quite a feat! Well, get ready to congratulate me, because I have done just that. I have just completely filled the 250 page book I began on 4 August 2008.
I guess 2 years is a long time to work with so few pages, but looking through my entries, I found that the average span between them is 4 or 5 weeks. And sometimes up to 6 months. Regardless, I'm pleased that I can now move on to fill the beautiful journal I was given last Christmas..

So anyway, while flipping through my now-retired journal, I came across some little tidbits that I'd like to share...enjoy!
_______________________
12 September 2008
Things I could be obsessed with:
Grace. Pillows. Afternoon. Good Thoughts. Toast. Pens. Arizona. Construction Paper. Ballads. Night. The Hepburns. Your Apartment. Cleverness. Travelers. Used Books. Post-Marks. People with Courage. People Obsessed. Quilts. Spark. Puns. Good Lighting. Cats. The Driver's Seat. Polaroids. Peonies. Your Friend's Girlfriend. Stories. Green. Your Bed. Guitar Fingers. The Original.
_______________________
25 Septempber 2008
We are all poets masquerading as regular people..
_______________________
23 October 2008
Love makes no one weep
it makes no heart break.
Love is beyond tears and vital organs.
_______________________
25 November 2008
They sat on stools of
moss and tree bark
they built their homes of
flowers and weeds
Their lakes were
clean, clear pools of resourcefulness
their mountains were
all the words they never spoke.
_______________________
30 January 2009
To make a gross generalization: everyone these days is desperately afraid of being alone.
We join social networks, write trite messages to our friends, then have melt-downs if they don't respond to our every syllable.
I saw a girl walking her dog down my street yesterday. She was texting as she moseyed along.
But then, I had gone out on the porch to read. And I had brought my phone out with me..
_______________________
3 March 2010
I tremble
and become a butterfly pavilion.
I play out the whole scenario
in my head
And wait for my cue.
I try to predict your words
as I mouth mine in a whispery silence.
Ridiculous.
_______________________
20 April 2010
It was the September moon.
My petals wilted and fell into a salty sea.
They stayed afloat for a time
before being wrecked by the waves.
I lie marooned
awaiting the wave that will wash me away.
Awaiting the moon's revenge on my deceitful heart;
my inner tornado.
_______________________
And now, onto the next chapter of my journaling!

For Your Little, Listening Ears..

I was in a frenzy for some new jams last week, and came upon Bishop Allen's latest album. Yes it came out early last year, so many of you may be lovin it already, but,
I liked it.
A LOT.
These guys have been making pretty classy indie pop since the early 2000s, but their record, Grrr...(2009), is quite fantastic. Every song has something wonderful to offer, and most of them have that catchy quality that makes you feel like, "Hey, I know this song!"
And the icing on the cake: the two core members, (they rotate musical collaborators to achieve a unique sound on each track), Justin Rice and Christian Rudder, started this project while living together after attending Harvard University.
Harvard, it's NBD.





I love these fools.

Check out the whole Grrr... album right away!

I am particularly fond of True or False, The Ancient Commonsense of Things, and The Lion and the Teacup.

Summer Reads.

Since it's now officially summer, you probably think I'm spending oodles of time soaking up sun and reading some good books, right? HARDLY. I have somehow managed to work at least 40 hours a week for the past few, and let me tell you that my favorite summer pastime has been almost entirely neglected, except for the one book I read on my last trip to New Mexico..

I was happy to have an unexpected day off today, though (if you don't count working the dinner shift at the restaurant), during which I hit the beaches and finished my current read.
Two down....a LOT to go.


The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Stephen Chbosky

At the risk of sounding cliche, I am just going to break down and say that this book seriously spoke to my soul. I felt so connected to the character of Charlie, our hero, who writes anonymous letters to an anonymous friend during his first year of high school. Charlie is an observer...a wallflower. And he made me realize that not wanting to join in all the time is actually okay. That being a wallflower is sometimes the best way to understand people.


Little Altars Everywhere
Rebecca Wells

I first read this book the summer I turned 15. I was on a southern-inspired-fiction binge (after reading Fried Green Tomatoes AND Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood), and simply could not get enough. I stumbled upon copies of Little Altars Everywhere and Divine Secrets during my last visit to my favorite used book store a week or so ago, and HAD to buy them both. Reading this book again was wonderful. Rebecca Wells crafts such rich characters, that you feel as though you really know them. I am so tempted to dive right into Divine Secrets again, but I think I'll make myself finish An American Tragedy first..


An American Tragedy
Theodore Dreiser

An American Tragedy is a somewhat tedious novel, but with a gripping story. It almost makes you wish that Dreiser had paid one last visit to his editor...(in my limited research of the title, I learned that this book was infamously labeled "the worst-written great novel in the world.")
At about 40 pages into Book Two (of Three), I find myself simultaneously bored and riveted by the story of Clyde Griffiths, the pleasure-seeking son of a street preacher, who dreams of a life of luxury, and will stop at nothing on his quest to join the upper-class.

....................................................................

So there are the two books I've actually read so far this summer, and the one that is still in the works. And here are some of the others I hope to tackle before the summer's out:

Ulysses
James Joyce



Fatland: How Americans Became the Fattest People in the World
Greg Critser



On The Road
Jack Kerouac



A Certain Smile
Francoise Sagan



Autobiography of a Face
Lucy Grealy


Happy reading, happy summer.

Hear this song, my love.

Been listening to a some Karen Elson lately, and let me tell you, this little lady has put out a ridiculously cool album. Laden with tales of murder and depression-era struggles, The Ghost Who Walks, (while definitely falling in with this westerny-modern craze that's abounded in the past few years), has a soulful and honest feel. My being an avid Jenny Lewis fan may have something to do with it, but I loved it. I love this woman.

(iTunes it up! I really liked The Ghost Who Walks and 100 Years From Now.)

Aux Arks.

Well I am in love.

Having just returned from my sojourn at The White Buffalo Resort, I must say how very impressed and not a little affected I was by my experience there. The simple beauty of the trees and rivers, the number of animals--ranging from armadillos and box turtles to squirrels, foxes and deer--that roam freely, and the sweeping peace of the place really showcases some of the highlights of the marvelous country that stretches throughout parts of Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas, known as The Ozarks.

Unfortunately, I must say that my bad luck with cameras has struck once again, and I broke mine and Leah's camera on my very first day at the resort. (What is that, Leah? Number 5?) Therefore, I have no photos to display as documentation of our lovely trip.

I will say, however, that on returning home, I swiftly googled The Ozarks to find out more, and found some pretty interesting stuff. For example, that the word "Ozarks" is thought to be derived from a linguistic corruption of the French abbreviation "Aux Arks," (short for "of Arkansas"). Or that is was an abbreviation for "aux-arcs-en-ciel," French for "towards the rainbows", which are common sights in the region. (thanks, wikipedia.)

And thank you to the wonderful Olwell Family and all their Ozarkian goodness!

April Appreciation.

Just some of the things that got me through the month of April.

Contra, Vampire Weekend

This album played non-stop in my car for 4 weeks. Maybe longer. Okay, maybe it's still playing. My personal favorites? White Sky and Horchata. Give it a listen, and join the Obsessed With Contra Club. We meet on Wednesday nights..



Long shorts.

Found these ones at Hurley.com. Roll em once or twice and they look so so good. And they're the most comfortable shorts on the planet.



Red hair.

After obsessing since forever, I have finally officially darkened my locks to a light...orangy-red.
Just call me Ginger.



Anis Mojgani.

First heard this guy probably three years ago, but recently started listening to and reading his stuff again. He writes some of the most beautiful poetry I've ever heard. Youtube Shake The Dust. And get ready to get goosebumps.