Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Now you begin.

Dear Kenley Elise Miller,
You look ready.
I love you.
Your Aunt,

hurry autumn

I give up.


Monday, July 27, 2009

my cat just climbed up onto a bookshelf then puked off of it.

Title of blog?
Just happened.

I still have no photographic account of Atlantic City but at some point I will, including the retarded accident that led to cripple status.
In the meanwhile (excellent Jodeci song) lets talk about sex. (excellent S+P song)
Gross lets actually talk about the god damn hurricane from hell (or from hot south american winds??) that showed up yesterday afternoon.

The idea was to enjoy crisp cool beers at a lovely discount cost thanks to Bogdan The Prince of Copenhagen and Obscure Art. And Hats.

GoodWorld moved to Allen and Delancey and changed their name to something weird like Flying White Oysters.
This guy was having a really swell time reading the papers in a tweed suit and sneakers.

I doubt I need to clarify but he was not American. Really?!?

Then this happened.

All the windows and doors open and swinging, the wind blowing packs of cigarettes off of tables....
It was cinematic and invigorating.
Summer storms are a weather phenomenon that I always seem to forget about. Then they happen and they are so amazing and electric.

Stephanie came and told us a really long story.

I was tired thanks to my faggot broken arm, and they were making faces like this.

Short attention spans, not your fault Porto.

Thats better.

It was a really good first afternoon back...
Izabella is all about playing matchmaker for me. Hi, blind dates? My favorite activity behind eating a sandwich in the tub.
After Good White Oyster Fuck we went home and Liv cooked pasta and Stephanie cleaned my room.

I'm feeling lucky.

Also lucky?
Today is the 25th Anniversary of PURPLE RAIN!
Heres a little math magik.
I'm 25.
The movie musical is 25.
My sister is giving birth to my new niece today meaning...

I feel like my brain might explode if I think about it.

Excitement can be too much for some people.
I really feel you Sue.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Meanwhile I dream of make outs and bike riding.

Dislocated shoulder and fractured humerus means no blogging at the moment.
I'll be back as soon as my will to live normally returns.
I miss being moderately interesting.

xo from the cripple ward!

photographs coming soon.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

I'll be on the steps of the park on Chrystie by Whole Foods. Dying.

I like to start every post by saying I blog less than I used to.

if anyone still reads this bullshit, my sincerest reparations are to come.
And by reparations I mean pictures of things like more babies and other snoozy business.

First of all I want to say Olive is very pretty especially in the glorious sun rays that stream into her new apartment.

We went to an excellent art show situation event whateverthefuck last week and Will was as spastic as I expected. As you can maybe tell from this terrifying photo.
The new me is very coy around men, and every man there was HandsomeGlory so I spent most of the night blushing. This is not a lie, I in fact blush now. I don't know whats going on with me.

I like when there is food and endless booze and a band and dancing and fire escapes and roof access and cute humans.
Hint: all of these things were present
Hint followup: if you sit right by the food, lots of boys will gravitate towards where you are, making it easier to let them get a good look at you.
I employed this tactic for at least an hour.

That art looks like Cisco Adlers balls.

The roof.

Free alcohol leads to dance explosion.

More things happened and then I went to Atl for my sisters baby shower.

Airport humans.

We ate here after the family picked me up.
Something about that is funny to me.

This is my dramatic southern baby shower gear. And face. Theatrics.
Realize how hard it is for me to post this photo.
Everything about it is eyeroll worthy.
But I'll tell you something, I look pretty.
So I'll be that.

My boo in the car.

My boo at the pool.

Right: my sister, 9 months pregnant, baby shower guest of honor
Left: my cousin, 6 months pregnant, her body looks just like mine after I eat cake.
What. The Fuck.

Pule Perty!

I'm pretty sure there is a picture exactly like this from 20 years ago. Aunt Linda holding me and someone else.
Now its Cashen and Kayla.
Also please look at Nancy swimming with a baby panda tube.

These two are a fucking trip.
I'm telling you, the urge to rip your clothes off as much as possible is surely genetic.
I got it from my mom, who got it from Howie and Jess.
Now we have a new flock of nuders.
Nude on.

Oh hey Dad you're funny to me.

I think this is what husbands look like in the south.
By the way, thats not an insult even remotely, what you're seeing here is a great guy.
Whether or not he cuts his sleeves off, hes still radder than most of the assholes I have to look at day in and day out.

Shayla is nearly a year old and this was the first time we met.
She obviously adores me.
She stuck her goldfish crackers in my mouth which for a baby, its like giving you handfuls of god damn rubies.

Had a good time.
It was a short trip
I love my family.
I went home again.

I feel like clouds are getting weirder.

New York.

Philharmonic in Central Park.
Its mostly about the snacks.

The ghost of Krissy sunbathing in Tompkins with Natasha.

Hung over and tired and gross.
Met Conrad to run uptown and try to get my Vespa going.
It was hot as sin out for real for real.
It melted my zest for life.

Two hours, a jumper cable, a can of gasoline and a coconut water later, C-rad can get the engine to turn over and the bike drives about ten car lengths before it dies.
I feel like I should repay the man for his efforts in life blood or magical potions.
He tried really hard.

This is why I love men so much.
They think shit like this is exciting.
They get their panties all twisted up tinkering with batteries and wires and engines and shit like that.
We shall return with a new battery next week and get this bumblebee looking mother fucker on the road.
PS I've been watching Kenny Powers all day.
My language is atrocious.

I'm exhausted now and I'm off to Atlantic City tomorrow for sexy lady weekend.
Before I go please look at this chinese kid with a heart shaved into his head.
Also his parents were a riot.

All my love, friends.
Exes and Ohs.

Monday, July 6, 2009

In every wish and dream And happy home You will find the kingdom of The Gnomes

Everything comes in giant waves, no?

I woke up quite under the weather this morning completely unable to swallow coupled with aching eyeballs.
Not suitable for nannying.
I had to call out of work of course because little babes don't need my germs no siree. (Suri?)

It was an unpleasant day of not eating, not really drinking, not really moving... just rolling around in my bed having feverish dreams and intermittently feeling the disgusting tingle of the sunburn on my lower back rub against my sheets.

Then I dragged myself up around 230 this afternoon to get ready to go to therapy on the upper west side.
For some reason I thought today would be a really good day to delve into some ol stinky garbage issues I've had since I was a kid that possibly affect my current behaviours.
Might I remind you, this is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, and is all about living in the moment mindfully. It is certainly not about having an hour long self absorbed cry fest.
Well...today I failed at mindfulness and self control.
I sweat all over Claude's nice Eames lounge chair and snot up about half his box of tissues.
I cried the entire time basically and I had that weird awful sobby choked voice that it just unbearable.

So that happened.

I came home to rest and take some pills and drink some tea which was nice but then I got shit on by someone who shall remain nameless.
I really dislike being disliked does that make sense?
I always feel this weird pity for people who berate those who care about them. It makes me think they are so beyond fucked inside that I have to figure it out and then assist them in some way.
Maybe they just don't like me and thats why they talk shit.
Either way, its essentially a lose-lose sitch.

So as of 7 minutes ago it became Tuesday and this horrible Monday ended and I am glad for it.
I embrace every moment I have with those I love but today was pretty loveless for the most part.
Thats why I'm going to think about all the happiness I had this holiday weekend.
I am so so thankful for the people in my life who give me positive thoughts and unconditional acceptance.
I hope these photos make you feel good.

On the train out to NJ to celebrate the 4th, it appeared as though Levin was not set to have a good time with the ladies. But I had faith in his ability to find enjoyment in all the vagina he was about to be stuck with for 48 hours.

Porto sits with me and is never embarrassed when I talk too loud or say "wet dick" in public.
Maybe she is embarrassed but she doesn't scold me which is nice.

Marshy like disease time.

Livy's salad.
Dinner in the yard.
It was an immediate killing it type of situation upon arrival.

We walked to the fireworks at the river and somehow ended up with the perfect seats despite a crowd of 125,000 people. Supposedly 125G, Nancy may have exaggerated.

Levin posted up Americana.

This is real.
Real emosh. (emotional? can i say emosh?)
Stephanie cried a few times and forced Levin to hold her hand dramatically.
I enjoyed that.
I mostly clapped furiously and wiggled with excitement.
Red Bank fireworks are by far the best I have ever seen in my life.
There were hearts and purple things and star showers and hibiscus shaped ones with red lanterns in the center that floated away as the explosion faded.
Steph and I now have a plan to be cremated and stuffed into a tube WITH fireworks so we can be shot into the sky and transcend time and space like magik.
I made up that last part about transcendence.

Levin caveman duties.

This is what drunk ghosts probably look like.

The next day, the actual July 4th, we had a plan to remain at the beach until the fireworks went off on the ocean around 9pm.
It is very hard to be at the beach for ten hours.
But Ilona and Werman showed up which was entertaining, especially because Ilona was wearing her mans underpants as a babin suit.

Werman is a good beach DJ.

Look at these butts!
Look at these mexican blankies from 7-11!

Stephanie's beach walk is so good, she does it a certain way 'so nothing shakes'
Shes my tiny pony.

If they have a baby I think they should just name it Jew.
No other moniker would really explain a creature from their combined beings.

Jey and BabyBows finally showed up late in the day.
They did not disappoint on Jersey costume prep.
Best part is they sort of always look like this.
I just never realized what I was looking at.

I wish I had thought of this first.

I don't think it is possible to blog anything after the beginning of the sunset.
It was too good.
Dogs running on the beach.
So much color.
Music and swimming and all kinds of good things.
Heavenly is a good adjective in very few occasions but here it may apply.

Olivia took photos of me with seashells over my boobies like a mermaid laying in the wet sand.
And me and Jey holding hands in the creek reflecting the pink from the sky.
And Stephanie dancing with a scarf like a bird.
And water dives and poodle chases and Micheal Jackson beach house blasting celebration.
All those parts are in my head where they belong and I wish I could share them but I just don't know about that.
I would have to be so much better of a writer...

We had one more little trip to the beach Sunday after I ate probably 3 entire bagels and drank 14 glasses of juice.
Then to Jeys to eat all the food at her house.
Also to show off my sunburn.

And sing this:

Then to the ferry to see another sunset and go back to the reals.


The moon!

This to that.

I walked South Street to my apartment and was greeted by a giant dead bird on the stoop.
It stared at me for a few minutes then whispered Welcome Home.

*PostScript thank you mom for taking care of us and loving us and feeding us and having a place for me always