May 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
May 12, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am a sucker for headbands with flowers on them. Whenever I see one in a store, I immediately want to put it on my head and walk around the store with it while I shop (…and eventually end up at the register to buy it). To be honest, I am a sucker for just about any headband, but especially the ones with large, brightly colored flowers (or pompoms) that look delicate yet also make a statement. I’m so ridiculous that I even shop in the CrewCuts section of JCrew for the headbands because sometimes I find the JCrew headbands to be too understated and demure for me.
For a while I didn’t know where to place all my headbands so they ended up lying on top of each other, looking quite haphazard. I wanted to organize and arrange my headbands in a way that was creative but also didn’t require my spending extra money on trying to find a headband holder that didn’t look like it was created for young girls or creating one out of circular box of oatmeal and fabric. I had a small flash of ingenuity and thought to arrange my headhands in a ginger vase so that they resembled a bouquet of flowers.
I think it needs to be said that Wayne and I are kind of really bad at keeping plants alive. I adore fresh cut flowers but I get sad when they start to die. I lovelove this idea because it’s such a fun play on floral arrangements AND I also found a place to keep my headbands (!!!).
I don’t typically have flashes of “diy” ingenuity– never mind that this is the laziest “diy” idea possible– so I’d like to revel in it like a happy little fly in a pool of chocolate pudding (I understand that this image probably isn’t too amusing to anyone except me, but please understand that my little fly is literally “as cute as a bug”).
May 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
On Hyperbole and a Half releasing a book:
Simon: Hyperbole and a Half is coming out with a book next year.
Jenny: Thank God. I can’t wait.
Simon: Haha Were you waiting for it?
Jenny: I need a hardcopy to store in my survival kit when there is a zombie apocalypse. It’s good to have humor.
Simon: That’s a good point. Maybe I’ll buy it too.
(FYI, my favorite post by Hyperbole and a Half is this one: Dogs don’t understand basic concepts like moving)
April 27, 2011 § Leave a comment
I want to say that my life is now complete. I know that statement isn’t true because I don’t have a shiba inu puppy napping on my legs while I watch the Food Network and our apartment isn’t located above a Trader Joe’s, but this Llama font makes me feel as if my life is almost nearly there.
That llama and his friends are all so limber and flexible!
To play with the Llama font, go here: Llama Font
April 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
Image of Kiyomi taken from her blog, The New Yorkher
I’ll be honest, I don’t know her very well, if at all. She and I lived in the same wing and on the same floor of our freshman dorm. I only have two clear memories of my interactions with Kiyomi: being stranded along with her at the Getty Center on a college field trip and when my former roommate, Momo, and I visited a trendy sushi restaurant in downtown LA where Kiyomi was a hostess. On my second day in LA, we both went on a field trip to the Getty, which was arranged by the counselors of Thematic Option, an honors writing program that was the alternative to USC’s regular general education classes. I think it was an attempt on the program’s part to show us that LA does have a little bit of culture and beauty before we became jaded by the dirtiness of LA. It might have worked if I were properly dressed. Since it was my second day in LA, I foolishly thought that LA was always warm– I forgot about the existence mountains after I left Montana at the age of eleven. Kiyomi and I bonded over being incredibly cold and spent the six hours we were stranded on the mountain art museum chasing the sunlight for warmth. During our conversations, I learned that she was a creative writing major.
My second memory of her took place in the last days of my life in LA, which I think is coincidentally fitting since I met her during the first days of my life in LA. She was a hostess of a trendy sushi restaurant in downtown LA called Octopus on the day Momo and I walked by the restaurant and wanted to try out the food. Momo was craving salmon. In catching up with Kiyomi’s life, four years later, I learned that she was debating attending graduate school to study poetry or putting it off a little longer to enrich her life experiences so she could be a better writer when she did eventually attend graduate school.
She’s in New York City now, being inspired and shaped by the city as she writes The New Yorkher.
I’ve never read her writing until yesterday when I found her blog and was intrigued by the content. She pairs fashion show images with her poetry that was inspired by the line. The writing is not about the designer or the clothes directly; instead, the words are tangential and deviate in such a whisper of a way that to see the connection she makes between her poetic strings and the images is illuminating. The writing is gorgeous.
Inspired: Rag & Bone/Vera Wang Spring 2011
Hold Tight, Kernel of Sadness
When we boiled things down
there were no bones. That shiny shrink-
wrapped feeling was simply wisped
into the atmosphere, mere vapor.
Now it’s everywhere, everywhere
propagating. Inhaled and ejaculated,
changed, shaken, but elemental.
Inspired: Jason Wu/Jason Wu for Tse Spring 2011
Suspension of Disbelief
Someone once told me,
in a dream, perhaps,
that we are only allotted
a certain number of heartbeats.
every moment of panic,
which quickens our pulse
If only I could be still
I might live forever.
If only I could be still.
March 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
Konstantine Krispee awoke today feeling especially cheery. He took a hot bath to celebrate. The sun brightened the sky but didn’t warm the earth, which he preferred because he quite liked wearing his coat. In the middle of the day, he developed a headache. It started off mild, but it rapidly grew. He shrugged off the headache and tried to continue his day, but then he realized that he was disappearing, part by part, until he was nothing. As he disappeared, his last thoughts were: I suppose since I can’t file taxes, this must be the other.
“…in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” — Benjamin Franklin