An interesting thing happened today.

I was told to remove a book from my book list because of “explicit content.” The book was Stardust, by Neil Gaiman, and the questionable content was the scene in the beginning where Dunstan is seduced by the witch. Luckily, due to the fact that the book isn’t really that risque for a teenager, I was able to get away with a gracious “Thanks for letting me know!” (I knew, I’ve read it) and leave it on the list.

It brings up a compelling & multi-faceted argument, though. I bookmarked Claire’s take on it back when she wrote it, because I love hearing other young teachers’ opinions on classroom politics. I thought of her (and in conjunction, this one from the Guardian book blog) today. Do we have a right to censor what kids read?

The answer is, ostensibly, yes. But is it good for them? No. Life isn’t pretty. People die. Pets run away. Genocides happen. People have babies in one night stands with faerie-slaves. It’s life. So I tweeted earlier that I wasn’t going to take it off the list.

My parents (all 4 of them) never censored what I consumed in any form, especially not books. Sure, Beavis and Butthead were verboten, but I read The Diary of Anne Frank when I was 8. They knew I was smart enough to ask questions if I had them, research what I didn’t understand, and most importantly, they knew that I was intelligent enough to understand the difference between reality and fantasy. In fact, I still mostly can! Bonus.

Do some books blur the line? Absolutely. But riddle me this: what’s worse? A skanky faerie-witch, or a main character whose whole relationship is predicated on saying ‘No’ and being forced to do things anyway? The whole Twilight franchise glorifies ignorance and sexism, and yet… No… Stardust?  We’ll encourage unrealistic teenage relationships, unrealistic teenage marriage fantasies, and unrealistic teenage pregnancy, thanks.

Great.

I clearly win.

Over the last few years I have definitely seen a rise in the number of small boutique hotels. Probably because I entered the hotel industry and became more aware, or maybe the trend is such that small boutique is now the vogue?

In London, I believe that Kit Kemp definitely made an impact on the genre of boutique style hotels, as did Anouska Hempel. They both created fantastic hotels, which felt like a home away from home, but with that touch of glamour and all the attention you require and of course deserve! Both very different in style, but each very intimate and luxurious.

Hempel styles the hotel in a very minimalistic design, using “the elegance of simplicity” (as stated on the hotel website). The entrance is very warm and welcoming with carefully selected pieces, all of which are very carefully placed. Walking into the rooms at the Hempel Hotel one does not feel like touching anything; as beautiful as everything is it’s almost a museum like style. Everything looks so perfect and set in its place, it feels like a great dishonour to the designer to move things out of place.

Everything in its place...and all that order!

Image from the Hempel Hotel website.

On the contrary Kemp’s style is more homily and involves lots of different pieces being almost effortlessly put together. For me, walking into a Firmdale hotel feels like going to a well-travelled aunt’s home. There are fascinating artefacts, books and fabrics everywhere. Clearly all is very well thought out and designed, from which light to place the wing chair and desk under to what fabric and old china plate can sit together. However, even though the interiors are given all that consideration there is not that feeling of being staged. Clearly I am a fan of Firmdale, but I am afraid of the group churning out another “Soho”, or “Pelham”. This would, in my opinion, defeat Firmdale’s aim of exclusivity.

Back in aunty’s living room!

Aunty’s wall hanging from the East, but that chair is quite Gentleman’s club...Oooh naughty aunty!!

Images from the Firmdale website.

So boutique hotels, as most other hotels, obviously vary in style. But what makes a hotel boutique? Is it just the design? The attention to detail? The luxury? In my opinion it is probably a combination of all these, plus a small size helps with the intimacy and also the lack of branding. Although on the branding topic there are probably various views. Most hotel groups seem to put their stamp on their property in some way; either by using the similar signage, having the magazines in a certain order on the desk or just having a “style”. However, to keep it boutique and unique, I really think the branding, or that stamp, is not required. This I really believe about the Fox and Anchor; run by the Malmaison and Hotel du Vin group it is a pub with rooms, but I think it can definitely be classified under the boutique hotel category. However, in my opinion the originality of the hotel is let down, not by the design, which is brilliantly thought out and well planned, from door handle to skirting finish, but by the branding. It is all too much like a mini Malmaison or Hotel du Vin; from the similar font on the food menus to the same roll top baths in bedrooms. In my opinion the property should have been standalone and it really would have made even more of a statement, but then these are small details not noticed by many. Nevertheless it is a well designed pub with rooms, a complete transformation from the original building thanks to the in house interior design team in charge! The rooms are all named after areas around the City and with the nearby meat market in mind. Artwork was especially selected to complement each room, so once again a lot of thought went into every detail.

Somewhere warm and cosy and VERY close by, after all those pints!

Image from the Fox and Anchor website.

The opposite to the Fox and Anchor with branding is a very small hotel I only discovered last week – 40 Winks.  The branding here is non- existent and unlike most hotels nowadays (especially in London) there are not even televisions in the room; so really going back to what hotel rooms are for!! This is truly an individual boutique hotel. Designed by David Carter, this hotel has a great collection of diverse objects and has a very intimate feel. This is most probably due to only two bedrooms being available for occupancy. It is an old townhouse, restored fully to ensure that its true grace is flaunted. The collection of furniture has been carefully selected and placed to enhance the beauty of each room and of the furniture itself. The whole style is very bohemian, well suited with being situated in the artsy end of East London.

In front of the looking glass…Do I look beautiful dear? Of course!

All working well together.

Images from the 40 Winks website.

So boutique hotels are definitely all the rage now and confidently for the future, but hopefully they won’t turn into “another” one of those hotels and they will be kept unique and most importantly …boutique!

So how soon is too soon to give up on match.com??? It’s been 2 days and I’m already exhausted, I’ve gotten plenty of winks, messages, and profile views and have yet to not cringe at the pic or profile of said winker.  I know this makes me sound completely shallow, but really people, how hard is it to take a decent picture and write a normal ‘about me’.  Is it so much to ask to find a decent normal man? I think so…  I may be too picky but I’d rather be single than settle. Oi.

Its been a couple of days since the last post, but it was 21st bday week so I needed some time to recuperate.  So to the topic at hand.  More on men.  Lets start with dream guy.  You know how I posted on how I was thinking of not going out with him anymore with the whole communication issue we have.  Too busy to talk consistently, cellphones hate each other and every time we talk our cellphones break up and cut off, text messages never get received, great all together.  After I met his parents, we agreed that we were going out and I am optimistic, but there are ups and downs and sometimes I get upset that I get down on the days that I don’t talk to him that much.  I try to not be so emotionally involved but there is a reason that dream guy is dream guy.  Then he couldn’t come for my birthday party.  I am not one to celebrate birthdays but this being my 21st I wanted to make something of it and I invited a group of close friends to mark the occasion.  Most of my friends know about dream guy and I wanted that to be the day that everyone could finally meet him.  But dream guys school didn’t give him Veteran’s day of so he couldn’t make the Tuesday night extravaganza.  Me being the romantic I am expected him to feel guilty and try to make it up to me during the weekend, but nothing of the sort.  I sort of went crazy when had another communication failure, that plus the birthday shit, so we had a talk.  Too much work, so nothing could happen this weekend, apparently I should have said something about wanting to see him.  Hey maybe I want to be surprised.  So we had a little conversation about changing the way we see each other. Instead of seeing each other every month for a day or two we could see each other every other week for a couple of hours.  I hope it works.  Hopefully hell call today.

On another men, Ive been talking to the Italian guy as well, I cant believe I still haven’t met anybody that I’ve been talking to online.  I don’t understand whats going on, shouldn’t they want to meet me.  We talked about meeting for coffee so maybe that will happen soon enough.

This guy I winked at finally responded and apologized for taking so long. Well see how that pans out, hes actually pretty cute, so I’m excited.  Also, started talking to this half-Asian kid who also likes Palahniuk. Lets see how that goes.

Thats it for now, ill keep you in the loop.

-M

I need to make time for this blog, because I enjoy it & also because I need an outlet for my geekery. The thing is, my new job is a lot of work. A lot. Like, I’ve never worked this much in my life a lot. And that’s good in many ways, we all love a good challenge. But it also means I’ve got to do some major restructuring of my time, which is proving difficult. We shall see. For now, I’ll let it lie, and try to take advantage of the changes in the most positive way I can.

You know that one of the most common methods of communication on the online dating websites are the infamous ‘winks’.  In Match.com I have received about 30 winks in the past week an a half.  Mostly from people that I don’t want to be winked by.  It kind of awkward getting winked by a man who is 37 and is looking for women in the 18-25 range.  Extremely shady, don’t you think?  Definitely.  More and more I find that match.com is just not the place were I can find what I want.   Im starting to think that the wink mechanism might not be an effective tool for anything.

Seriously, lets think about this.  If a guy winks at a girl.  What is the girl supposed to think?  He likes me enough to wink at me but not enough to message me.  Possibly because he’s only interested in my looks and thinking about something to write is a big waste of time.   It could be that or he just doesn’t believe I will respond to a message but if there is any slight chance that I might be interested he will send a wink anyway in case I respond somehow.  Do girls ever wink at guys?  Should girls ever wink at guys?  Maybe I am way old-fashioned or something, which I don’t think is the case if i’m trying unconventional dating methods, but what kind of girl will wink at a guy?  To me is seems that a guy would think less of a girl that winks at them.  But honestly, i’m seriously thinking about winking.  Remember when I told you I messaged a guy I liked and got no response.  I seriously don’t have time to come up with quirky and intelligent messages for every guy and the end up not getting responses.

I also feel that if they don’t know i’m interested then they will never message me, or they might be as afraid to message me as I am to message them.  So, I have realized that I am on these websites to have people I like know i’m interested.  I need for them to know so they can then take the initiative and message me.  If they like me back they will message me.  Surprisingly one night of desperation I decided to wink at all the guy I had been checking out.  One of my favorites actually messaged me back, I was so excited.  Lets see what happens with that.  Maybe winking isn’t so bad. Right? What do you think?

-M

So, as you’ve read R setup his profile…finally.  I’ve pretty much had mine up for a week now so I think its time for an update, don’t you think?  As you know, I set up profiles in Match, Eharmony and OkCupid.  Lets go one by one.  Match, match match.  Like I said before, I am not going to pay for a monthly subscription to get messages from people I don’t want to get.  So I’m on the website doing the ‘free’ thing.  For no cost they let you set up a profile, put some pictures up and most importantly, they let you view other peoples profiles.  You can even WINK at people, unfortunately, that’s it.  If you get a message, you cant see it unless you subscribe.  So I guess for now its a place were I can ‘check’ people out and other people can do the same.  Honestly, its not helping the cause.  Im not looking to just look.

Eharmony, well you know what’s going on with that.  Need to pay a gazillion dollars.  Did the 29 Dimensions with millions of questions.  I think in the span of a week I’ve been matched with about 30 guys.  I didn’t know I was so compatible with people, I guess its just me.  My ‘matches’ are all older than what I would want them to be.  But if you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Who else can afford to pay that much money, if not working class folk.  Not students, like myself and R.  Also, if someone is willing to invest so much in finding someone, they must be looking for some extreme commitment.  Not that I don’t like commitment, but i’m not looking to get married anytime soon.  Funny thing is, most of the gentlemen I have been matched with have requested communication.  Either I’m the best fish in the Eharmony pond or people are really eager to communicate, maybe to eager.  I guess they cannot ‘wink’ or message, so Im not going to dwell over that.

Now, OkCupid.  There have been a few people I have looked at.  People I could potentially message, or wink.  Im a girl right, I should let the guy talk to me first.  Sounds old-fashioned right?  But honestly, what kind of girl winks at someone online?  What would a guy think?  I actually built up the courage to message a guy.  Guess what? No freaking response.  I mean maybe it would have been better to not message.  It didn’t feel good to get rejected and online of all places.  The guy was just your average guy, he’s not even that good looking.  I guess everyone has the right to be picky.  I’m not monstrous, I think I merit a response.  (I just got winked yet again on Match, Ill be posting something on winking soon).  On OkC you can rate peoples profiles.  If you two people give each other a 4 or 5 star match they both get a message telling them to start communicating.  It serves as an icebreaker of sorts.  I’ve dedicated myself to rating people in the hopes that one of them gives me a high rating, that way they can find out I like them too and they can message.  Don’t laugh, their is method to my madness.  After one of these rating messages happened, the guy actually winked.  I took the opportunity and tried to say something funny about winking.  I’ll let you guys know how it goes.

-M

One month ago, I started talking to a man from Milwaukee that I met on Match.com.   My membership to Match had actually expired when he sent me a “wink.”  He was kind of cute so I winked back…. (Sounds like a quote from Young MC’s Bust a Move! : )   On Match, you can set up a profile and send winks to your heart’s content without having to sign up and pay for a membership.  However, you cannot actually send an email message without paying for the membership.  There was no way I was going to sign up for a membership in order to meet this guy…..and then find out later that he was a “winker without a paid membership”!  So…being the stubborn person that I am, I waited.  A few days later, I got my first email from him.  Ok, this guy was a legit member.  Good.  But still…..do I really want to pay for the membership and join? A month-by-month membership is actually quite expensive … unless you buy three months at a time.   Did I really want to pay for three months up front… for just one guy?  I had been a member 10 months ago ….and who knows, maybe there was a bigger selection of guys now…..maybe?  I debated joining for about a week.  Before the week was up, I received a 2nd message from this same guy.  He didn’t even know me and wanted to meet me that bad?? Is that weird?  Maybe my profile was just that convincing [pat self on back]!?  Maybe he’s just a freak? Obsessed?  By this point, I was just way too curious. For those of you who don’t know me, when my curiosity starts, there’s just no stopping it!   So, I gave in and joined Match…. once again.  (Later, I found out that this guy joined Match for the sole purpose of meeting me……… all because I had “winked” back.  At least, that’s what he says.)

I’m going to refer to this man from now on as Mr. M [Milwaukee].  Mr. M’s second email went on about how I was exactly what he was looking for in his life and how it was no coincidence that we had winked at each other.  He included his telephone number at the end of his message.  To be honest, his email seemed a little obsessive.  After all, the only thing he really knew about me was that I could “wink” back!! ; )   I decided to wait a while before responding.  Waiting is healthy, right?  After a week, I wrote back to him.  A few email exchanges later and I had generated my own conclusions about him… seemed educated,  was probably cultured because he liked salsa music/dancing and traveling, seemed interesting…. I decided it wouldn’t hurt to give Mr. M a call.

I called…. turns out he’s from Senegal.  Not just anywhere in Senegal, but the Casamance.  For those of you who don’t know, both of my ex-husbands were from this same exact place.  This wasn’t something I specifically chose or went out and looked for.  I studied abroad in Senegal during college and ended up falling in love and getting married while I was there.  (I know, Stupid!! But I was young and naive….I was 20.)  I filed the immigration paperwork for him so he could come back to the States. Within no time, he started going through what I would label as an identity crisis, became abusive and eventually disappeared once he received his green card in the mail.  The second husband…. I actually met before the first one.  He was probably the nicest, sweetest man I have ever met!!  He worked at the “Center” where all of the foreign students studied in Senegal.  He was a nice guy who always used to read the newspaper and ask the Americans about the vocabulary words he didn’t understand.  We were always good friends….never dated, and I never met his family….. but, we were good friends.  We lost touch for a while and then reconnected a few years later when he came to the USA.  He was always there for me, including during and after my first divorce.  A few years after my divorce, we started dating…..long distance.  He lived in NYC (worked in the fashion industry there) and I lived in MN.  A few years later, we were married.  [Sorry for the excessive use of “a few years” here!]  It was a wonderful relationship.  He was kind and loving, not abusive like I had experienced before.  He had been my best friend and helped me through so much… I was lucky enough to have his as my husband!  After 3 years of being married, he informed me that he was gay and in love with one of his classmates in nursing school.  I was crushed….divorced not once, but twice!!!  I had no previous clue that he was gay….no higher voice, no large hand movements or feminine walks.  Maybe I should have read into it more…… nursing school…..used to work in the fashion industry in NYC……maybe gay??  I hate stereotypes though……so I never made the gay assumption.  Anyway, long story short (not really that short, sorry!), I married and divorced two men from the Casamance and now, here I was…… facing another one?!

What the hell is this connection with men from the Casamance?  I don’t really believe in past lives or reincarnation, but if I did…..maybe I used to live in the Casamance or something.  It’s a small part of Senegal and it’s not like you run into people every day from this region……so why do I?? I don’t get it, but anyway, this Milwaukee guy “Mr. M” was originally from the Casamance.  Now is when the story gets weird.  I mentioned to him that I used to live in Dakar, Senegal back in the 90’s.  He asked me the last name of the family where I stayed…. said he might know them.  Instead of giving Mr. M the name of my host family, I was curious as to if he actually knew the family of one of my ex’s (since they were both living in Dakar) …..so……I told him the last name of my first husband.  He replied, “That’s my last name”.   

Well, it turns out they don’t know each other… thank God!!  Despite this fact, there aren’t very many people with this same last name in Senegal, so they are definitely related.  Mr. M says they are probably third cousins.  What, are you serious??  How can it be?? You’re my first husband’s third cousin from Senegal and I meet you in an online dating room in the United States?  Isn’t it taboo to date your ex- husband’s family, even if they don’t know each other? Maybe? Maybe not? Regardless of any taboos, we kept talking.  We talked about our favorite Salsa singers… Oscar d’Leon, Celia and Luis Enrique. We talked about how we both painted. He said he liked to paint abstract…. I told him I preferred painting people.  “I have no imagination“, I said.  “I can only paint what’s in front of me”.  We talked about how we both have traveled the world, how we both speak other languages…. and he stressed to me that he was not abusive and mean like my first husband.  He seemed alright.

Our next conversation seemed way off.  It felt like Mr. M was yelling at me 100 miles an hour!! My ear literally hurt. What the hell was his problem?  Would it be awkward if I asked….naaaa!  So I asked, “Are you alright? You’re screaming in my ear and doing it at a mile a minute!  Calm down, relax…..take a deep breath if you need to“!   I think Crabby was a bit offended because he snapped, “I always talk like this.  My father used to talk like this when he was still alive. This is me.  I’m not yelling”!  Oh super! So, if I dated you, I would get to listen to this lovely voice every day!!!  What a peaceful thought…..    I was on a roll with questions and I had another one lined up, so I asked….. “What is your status [in this country]“?  He replied in French,”Je n’ai pas de status”.  This literally means “I don’t have a status”.  Score, another illegal man who needs papers!  How lucky was I?!?!

Grande parte da influência de uma conversa interessante é destacada pelos lindos (kkkkkkk) emoticons e winks que ambos os usuários utilizam, entre tanto, os Winks do MSN (no qual o post se refere) por padrão são um pouco bizarros e meio sem graça, né? porém existem milhares de pacotes que prometem animar uma conversa no dia-a-dia.

O site MessBrasil – especializado no messenger brasileiro e todos seus recursos como emoticons, winks e plugins – tem uma página com dezenas de Winks para MSN, sendo divididos pelas categorias amor, comprimentos, datas especiais, desenhos, emoticons, esportes, feminino, fun, macacos, música, entre outros…

Visite – MessBrasil – Winks para Messenger

photo by stephanie stevens

Adam and I are getting married today.  Not really feeling sleep coming on anytime soon, so I thought I’d update for the first time in forever. Hi. I’m getting married in a few hours.

farfalina via flickr

This week has been hair-raising in the sense that I have got a mountain of work ahead of me like none I have ever tackled before.

There is so much I had planned for 2009, some of which has not yet come to fruition. That’s not to say I’ve lacked the time or the desire, but sometimes a person is scared of something intangible and is paralyzed for a certain time, unsure of where to begin. Also sometimes you get laid off, and have to forego artistic endeavors to get a freaking job, already.

Here or there? It doesn’t matter where you begin, the point is you begin. And the saying “Well-begun is half done?” Well, let’s just say Mary Poppins had enough emotional capital to make me a believer.

cmwoodley via flickr

This new endeavor takes me the route of the old one, until it jerks left and into unfamiliar territory.  With last year’s favorite album in my ears, farms blow by in threes– and the path is different just where my favorite part ends.

via audrey hepburn complex

This was entirely too apropos today, so I’ll consider it a wink (and perhaps also a nudge) from my good & constant friend, the Universe. You never fail to tell me what I need to know.

Trust me. And keep that conviction alive, when you do anything you need to make it happen. Write cover letters with your heart and not according to a formula, catch the eye of someone who strikes an impression, buy a ticket out of here, but not just that: send out these letters, and follow ups and ones after that and that to get what you want, approach the one you want, smile, say hello, I like you, buy a plane, train, bus ticket. Even just for a day. Even if it’s just a fantasy.

It’s a fantasy you’ll soon turn into reality. And not because it’s scientific or proven by psychological studies, not because this is what cheery false self-improvement books are made of, not because it sounds pretty and easy but because what do you have to lose just to try, to believe, to go after what you want. Because I’ve seen it happen, I’ve made it happen, and there is no muddled mind proclaiming help from higher powers or magical fulfillment, this is how it happens, and it is always how it happens. The surprises and breakthroughs, even the failures and disasters, it is all part of this. So give in to it, feed it, and feel alive.

And, trust me, soon it’ll happen. Exactly as you imagined…but better, brighter, dazzling and dizzying and with so much wonder in its every moment you’ll be marveling at the unreality of life.

(tweexcore)

I started my new job today…

Today, a guy winked at me at the gym.

And not just any guy. A HOT guy.

I didn’t want to go to the gym today. I woke up late, still tired, and not ok with the fact it was morning. It’s ok to take a day off, I thought to myself as I dragged my sorry butt into the shower.

Despite my inner protests, I threw my gym clothes in a bag and headed out the door. I figured I’d have them just in case I wanted to work out anyway. Things change over eight hours. How was I to know how I’d be feeling at 530?

At 3pm, I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of working out. But then I remembered. Today is a spinning day. Braids had told me if you do it right, you burn up to 500 calories in one hour. I started getting psyched for the class.

In the locker room, I changed from my work clothes into my yoga pants and tank top. I slipped the pants on under my dress, the slipped the dress over my head. I bent over my gym bag, willing myself to look straight in front of me.

Now, I can’t speak for my male counterparts, but there is an awful lot of nakedness in the gym locker room. And, may I add, most of it is unnecessary. It’s one thing if you’re changing out of a bathing suit or something, but come on people, there is absolutely no reason to change your underwear before and after you work out. I do not want to see your vagina.

So there I was, leaning over my bag, trying not to look at vaginas, when I realized I had left something very important on my bed. My exercise bra. It was no where to be found.

Oh crap, I thought. My regular bar is very lacy and very under wire-y (is that a word?!). I could just picture the wire snapping in half and stabbing me in the heart, mid-work out. I’m still 91.5 lbs away from my goal weight—I can’t die yet!

Luckily, my tank top had a built in shelf bra. I slipped it on over my head and prayed to God it would hold. I’m only a B cup, but still…I was nervous.

So there I was, lying on the exercise ball, crunching the hell out of my abs. On the 13th rep, I sat up, exhaled and looked up. Walking towards me, his white t-shirt stretched over his perfectly proportioned muscles, was a Hot Guy. We made eye contact.

And he winked.

**swoons**

This is big for a few reasons. First, I don’t get winked at by anyone other than Dirty Old Men or Drunk Men. Secondly, I certainly don’t get winked at while at the gym, when I’m surrounded by female twigs I could easily snap in half with one hand. Thirdly, I looked like ass. I didn’t have time to put on any make up. My hair was frizzy and I have noticeable roots.

I am never wearing an exercise bra again.

Alas, no conversation, as he continued walking to the free weight section. (I couldn’t follow—I have a personal training session tomorrow, and that means weights. I can’t lift two days in a row. Damn me and my not psychicness!) In the end, I guess it was for the best—it was time for spinning.

I decided to set up my bike on the other side from where I was last week. I also decided to slide the seat one slot down from last week, and voila!! No aching lady parts! That is ALWAYS cause for celebration, at least in my book.

Biker Girl was my instructor again. She’s great. I can tell visualization is one of her strong points—she had such great imagery for us to think about. Today, my goal was to make it through the class as she called it. In other words, I stood when she said stand. I sat when she sat sit. If Biker Girl said to increase the resistance, I increased the resistance.

Sidenote: The spinning room utilizes black lights. Normally, this looks cool. Unless you have a mostly white cat who apparently likes to sleep in my gym bag.

And I did it. My thighs burned like Californian wild fires. There were times I wanted to give up. Twenty minutes into the class, the girl two bikes down from me just left. She had enough and quit. I refused to be That Girl.

What’s more—ten minutes into the work out, I smiled. I’ve never smiled during a cardio class before. Normally I’m frowning and quietly praying for death. But not today! I don’t know if it was the wink or if I broke through a barrier or something, but I was having fun and feeling good.

I left the gym feeling wonderful. So here’s to more sweating, more smiles and more winks!!

Very recently I had a brain-melt on how things need to progress in the story I’ve been working on since just after college. I’ve got a ton written, but for a long time I wasted energy trying to shoehorn the plotline into something it wasn’t– namely, being for kids. The concept itself is just too dark, and to let it be that without forcing anything else is very freeing.

Building a believable character is hard for me, because again, I over-editorialize and tend not to let them develop organically. For the first few drafts, Sarah was so much the bastion of good– with no temptations, no ill-will, very passive, unassuming– that she was only one thing very definitively: boring. So, as an exercise I’ve never tried before, I hopped on Polyvore to see if I couldn’t create a bedroom space that represented Sarah in a way I hadn’t explored yet. This was the result:

It smacks of me… As does Sarah’s character, which I hope doesn’t prove too embarrassing if I have the good fortune of any kind of national publication one day.

Because she lives in an old manor, Sarah’s room is filled with light from the huge windows that overlook the East gardens. She sleeps in a giant antique bed, a hand-wrought piece of art commissioned by her great-grandfather. Being very neat, Sarah’s clothes are in perfect order, and her wardrobe doors never hang askew. Her desk doubles as a small apothecary, where she mixes potives to be used on her journey to the Bend. Bottles of different shapes and sizes cover gouges and burns– the casualties of a war she was destined to fight. Her books and trinkets for the journey are packed into an old footlocker, blue paint rubbed off with sea-passage and the passage of time. Candles glint overhead as she closes the door behind her.

Check out these rooftop chants in Tehran tonight (about 7 hours ago) organized via Twitter. (In case you missed it (because the American media isn’t saying a lot), Iran’s elections are being called into question by the Iranian people & world at large, & there is mass protesting going on throughout the country.) What a testament to courage– and the power of mass communication & social media.

(via The Daily Dish, above)

Click here for tweets about the Iranian elections

For information about this year’s elections in Iran, check out the wiki.

one of the most important things in a person’s life is positive physical contact. whether it be a long hug from an old friend or new mate, intertwining fingers with the one you touch noses with, touching noses with someone, or even just a brush past the person your heart beat for it can change everything. it can lift your spirits from the ground to way up in the sky, it can make you feel more positive, more energetic, it can change your entire day. go go go & make that connection. right now! send electric sparks out your fingertips & into the heart of someone extra special. go!

(via you are remarkable)

Was recently told A & I are too affectionate. I don’t think there’s any such thing– if we still want to hold hands down the street 7 years later, I think that’s a very good thing.

Love you, A.

Its been two weeks or so since I played FarmTown @ FaceBook and yesterday I had a chat with my Dolphin about going to the FARM and guess what ? It’s all coming to reality wahaha

I’m officially an ExtraOrdinary Farmer today LoL

this is my journey . . .

some of the land that get burnt

our little FARM house ehe

Around 8am we went to our farm bringing few bottle of water hoping to cool down the heat so our farm will not be affected more because of the neighbouring BURNED land but . . it just ain’t enough plus . . the weather was superbly HOT gosh ! I may ended up having a sun burn BUT it was FUN and EXCITING *winks*

please help me pass through this bridge *erks*

the title of this has nothing to do with any current life-activity of mine that is taking place at the moment. i just saw a video cam on the desk next to me and felt like making up a new word.

speaking of new words, i have been rolling around with cale lately. and by rolling around i literally mean the wheels of my car rolling in a circle while we drive to places. we make up words too. the best one so fair is waisen. if you cannot guess what that is a combo of, then you don’t deserve to know.

i seriously, honestly, incredibly, weirdly, CANNOT believe that i am graduating from high school in less then a month (if you count days). that’s insane. this morning in magnet geology, BH, HKH, and i were discussing long withheld memories of past years. there are some good ones.

like chemistry our freshman year. one day, mrs. green announced to us that she was about to do something that we would never forget. she then proceeded to sing ‘my humps’ by the black eyed peas while she pelvic thrusted her way around the chalkboard showing us some kind of chemistry topic. as you can see, i do not remember what she was trying to teach us. but i will never forget the curly red-haired dress-and-sneaker-wearing fergie.

how about everything that has to do with the bio trip? like the picnic. or schrat breaking a window and then running away. or BH playing ‘never have i ever’ and learning some unexpected and uncomfortable things about the so-called ‘good girls’ of our grade. or doing ky and shavers hair. or the shark pond. or when HKH and i snuck out and saw deer (the moment that which began my all-encompassing adoration of deer). or how about tanning on the grassy knoll. or how about the airplane ride in which we all sang the diarrhea song. or how about the black guy that called BH thick. or how about how we all loved each other that week.

or how about every single video project. nothing needs to even be said.

i really like basking in these memories. it’s like indoor tanning without the orange. anyways, i feel like graduation is going to be really sad. i am harsh on my friends, and to a lot of people i meet, but i really have made amazing friends in high school. it’s a handful- but the ones in my hands are the ones that will always be in my hands. leaving my teachers will be worse. i have relied on them so much- as mentors and friends and coaches and therapists. i am not sure how to thank people that encapsulate everything i want to be other then crying my eyes out and squeezing them real tight (my teachers, not my eyes).  i guess i’ll hug my classmates, too. i really do love most of you guys, much as i hate to admit it. ALSO. i hope albie goes ahead with his satirical speech. that’d be a good way to end it all.

tomorrow is tardy and proud day. i had a dream last night that it went really well. like 300 people showed up and the police were called it. i am pissed that i had that dream because now nothing will measure up. (cheryl crying, chaos erupting, evil laughter as the soundtrack, ISS, jail… etc.)

my mom is talking on the phone ever so loudly behind me so now my concentration is ruined.

so bye.

phoenix beauty via flickr

…about the time that every. Store. In. Amherst. Was out of fake-eyelash glue? No, I didn’t move to Vegas, it was Halloween,  & the only fake eyelashes I could find were sold glue-separately. At Sally Beauty in Hadley I was ready to cry. After all, what self-respecting flapper (worst costume ever, everyone had to ask) doesn’t have Clara Bow eyes?

Anyway, Sally Beauty, too, was out. But the heroic salesgirl had an unopened (and unneeded) tube of eyelash glue in her car, which she kindly sold me for 30% under retail. In 2009, a Good Samaritan is a woman who sells you cosmetic accoutrements with which to dress up in imitation of the ultimate old-time bad girl.

I love the 21st century.

rhythmatic vulture via flickr

Being graceful has never been my strong suit. When I was just a young thing slinging cocktails & cleaning tables at a well-known local restaurant, the owner told me once the only reason she hadn’t fired me  for breaking so many glasses is that her contract with the dinnerware company replaced them for free. I like to think she didn’t fire me for other reasons, those being slightly less embarrassing.  I say slightly because once, after falling flat on my behind in front of a restaurant full of people, I stood up and bowed and everyone laughed. She told me after that that she ‘liked my style.’ She liked I Love Lucy & Fat Actress, too. What’s my style, now? Oh, my.

There is a point to this, I promise I’m getting to it. Grace. Strong suit. Not. Okay, the point is:

Today, my clumsiness made me ruin something. Disappointing, of course, because it wasn’t cheap. And then I realized, the problem isn’t 100% clumsiness. The problem is that I’m not mindful, almost ever, of my surroundings, limbs, actions– and that results in a proportion of clumsiness that isn’t organic to me, it just correllates to my state of being. So I’ve resolved to be more mindful, but how? Buddhism suggests meditation, but if you know me you know my capacity to sit still for any longer than two consecutive minutes is essentially nil.

I don’t necessarily buy that mindfulness is something you can package into a practice such as meditation. I think it has to be something that’s with you at all times, not a mindfulness-cell that  you recharge like a battery with 15 minutes of Ohm.

But I could be wrong. I can’t sit still. How do you stay mindful, internet?