At the waterfront with Jonna, Kate, one of their friends "Kayci" (Sp?), and Lennon!

At Zen Tea House with Lennon and Buddy!

0.

So I'm a little ashamed of this blog being so poorly kept, and I'm a little sad about abandoning it after today. Maybe I'll give updates on how my scabbing is going and what not. x) Yum.

Morning:

1.

What have I been doing? Certainly not blogging.
But guess what!?!?!
I have been going to work, school, communicating with others (you know, socializing. Wow, I know. I'm impressive. What a balance.
But really, lets get to the point. I have something I'm excited to share.
John Green is exciting to share enough, now, go read Looking For Alaska. It can be done in less than four hours.
I have wrote of John Greens works in the past, so maybe it will be a little understandable why I'm so excited about what exciting news I have to bring to you; my most likely disappointed blog reader:

JOHN GREEN HAS A FUCKING YOUTUBE, BITCHES.
Get there. Watch from the first upload. Do it.

22.

29.28.27.26.25.24.23.

The iridescent lighting, scorched glass and ribbons, cameos and metal lace,
The scratching hum of the pencil against paper, The goose bumps forming my body into a cold chill,
The indescribable blue out the window, Indigo, but not.

The coffee filter formed into a flower, dipped in ink and lavender essential oil.
The smell, the relation, the realization.

Panting, Barking, Playing, Laughing, Shushing, Pats and Compromise.
The pitter patter of tiny paws, a visit in the iridescent lighting, an end, a beginning.

36.35.34.33.32.31.30.

Here is the deal, I have been bad so, um.. Have some pictures, I have heard they equal lots of words?

 

40.39.38.37.

Yeah, I know, get on my case. I haven't blogged. Its not that I'm not committed, its just that I'm bad at commitment. I went school shopping yesterday, bought some cute shit. Yes, shit. I bought adorable shit. Pictures later? Oh, gosh, no pictures now or you will never get them. Sorry, fools. Its love, without commitment. Sorry.

41.

Woke up in time to LEAVE for work today. Lovely. Oops. Still I got there with only seconds to spare. Super crazy gotta get up too early meeting in the morning. no time.

Skip 42.

Because 42 was all wedding. Coleen was gorgeous, bubby was adorable and so have children and what not, hip hip hooray.

43.

Wedding, wedding, wedding. Tonight is brother Bens last night of owning his Kahoonas, And he is spending it here, in Georgetown. So what did Benjamin and myself find to do? Gas station muffins, coffee with stolen creamer, and crafts. :) Oh yes.

Edit: BENJAMIN AND I!

44.

The font is decided! I will put pictures up in the morning, I'm pooped. Mario Kart calls my name, kids. Sorry.

45.

1.) "Dressing like a doll and swearing like a sailor."
2.) "Now I lay me down to sleep.."
3.) (...)I’m chasing reality with a sharp twist, staggering toward a house where little provision remains,
He advises me not to reflect so much, but it’s necessity I use my brain.(...)
4.) Stunning. 
5.) The smell of fuel.
6.) Saying "Here's a big fuck you for defilement of flawless contentment." (Much more satisfying in comparison to "eat my dust")
7.) "This post cards gonna read, Fuck yeah, we can live like this."

46.

(I'm late and lazy.)
I must be correct, this logic that they call bitter.
I must be correct, this free-spirit they call careless.
I must have it figured out, this confidence they call big-headed.
I must have it figured out, this lack of human.

47.

Tonight, I'm going to philosophize over some yummy John Green work in the book Looking for Alaska.

John Green (Looking for Alaska): "We are all going, I thought, and it applies to turtles and turtlenecks, Alaska the girl and Alaska the place, because nothing can last, not even the earth itself. The Buddha said that suffering was caused by desire, we'd learned, and that the cessation of desire meant the cessation of suffering. When you stopped wishing things wouldn't fall apart, you'd stop suffering when they did."
My input: This is bitter. I like it. I despise being condemned for existing as bitter. Bitter in numerous specialties is sensitive. It is protective. In a positive light, if you don't care when things "fall apart" then you can be thankful they did and in return becoming affairs can augment. Not being uptight about "the way things are suppose to be" ferments seeds for what could be.


John Green (Looking for Alaska): "I wanted to be one of those people who have streaks to maintain, who scorch the ground with their intensity. But for now, at least I knew such people, and they needed me, just like comets need tails."
My input: I recognize that feeling. Seems like I am a muse for intellectual but pessimistically unsatisfied boys. I don't necessarily like them, well not at all truly, however I appreciate feeling needed by them. Not in some creepy, "I just adore feeling wanted way", but in knowing I'm a part of something better than what I can do. I don't have some absurdly capable mind to express every bit of intensity or complex realization I have, though it would be nice.


John Green (Looking for Alaska): "After all this time, it seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out- but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it."
My input: Sometimes the worst, ugliest, nastiest path is the scenic route. You have to take it to learn, and learning is what I chose, it is my labyrinth. I hate dismissing my comfort zone, I'm a homebody who feels content when lacking knowledge, but yet, disgusting. I live to live my labyrinth.

John Green (An Abundance of Katherines):"Something about telling that story made my gut grow back together."
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud."
"That's who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of."
My input: Guts seem to speak for than hearts. If I could take one piece of my body wherever I go when I die, I would take my main guts, not my heart. I think I would take my small intestine or my spleen.

48.

It can be complicated to understand the relationship that me and Peter Nelson share, but I have a feeling this picture might assist you in doing so. You see, if you look closely, you will notice my contentment and his edge. That alert and slightly irritated expression on his face issues quite a bit of insight... He may be an animal to you, but look at us... He's my little brother. Sure, I pick on him and he drives me berserk, and yeah, hes conniving and yelpy, but he too, has an essence that makes him who he is. A soul.

49.

I have documented the pizza process that occurs about once every nine days at my home. It is regularly accompanied by brain cancer and Lennon. Now, I am letting you in on it too. (To the left of this text, my hairy little Pomeranian being "dipped" by my dear boyfriend.)
                                                                                             

Many activities go on during the preheating stage... Dance lessons, horseplay and wii are reoccurring activities. Speaking of which, Lennon just taught me to moonwalk.

Next is the finished product, a delicious, cheesy pizza waiting for Lennon to come and split it into 8 beautiful, mouthwatering pieces. While he does this I fix me a glass of delicious brain cancer. I know, bad habit that I need to kick. (I prefer the term "guilty pleasure" over the harshness of "bad habit")


The point of this blog however, isn't just to talk about pizza night and its lovely deliciousness, but to talk of tradition and the emotions that tie along with them. See, like super bowl to a big gnarly football playing man, pizza night to me is a fun bonding experience with other people who almost enjoy pizza half as much as I do. Bonding over coffee is nice, but whats with all the sophistication all the time? Gotta get a little "ham on the wall" bonding here and there. Who says you can't reinforce what you believe over brain cancer and overly processed tomato and cheese?

50.

A clean slate can only behave proactively if you understand everything you comprehended when your slate was a fiery disarray. I listen to this song when I think about name changes and tattoos and college and big scary things. Mind and time are both miraculous things, I'm going to trick mine into seeing a beginning. And so I will be "born in the doorway" of every big scary place I enter.

51.

Good Morning! Mmm, coffee in my Chicago mug and my dino-desktop seems to be functioning... Kind of.

Topic of the day? Lennon Michelangelo Selby. -The half disrobed hippie boy making a foxy face and sporting a 60 dollar skinny tie- I assure you, he's cuter than this picture exhibits, however this essentially captures one very important element of his personality. (shameless?)

Little justice though... He's one of the smartest, most intellectual beings I know AND he just got a nice haircut. Additionally, for having huge ass hands, he crafts everything he does with noteworthy detail. He is the most permissive person I have ever met and he has morals. He is an artist, and one day, he may even make pretty films. He is the most beautiful, cruelty-free person I know, and although he is not fond of me getting a tattoo, in numerous ways he has influenced it. Being his friend (and/or "girlfriend") has encouraged me to be the most outwardly abrupt, active, motivated person I can be.


PS. He has great hygiene even though he is a hippie.

52.

This is Sailor Riley Ray O'Byrne.
This is Sailor Riley Ray, Baby.
This is Sailor Baby.


Observe. He is fluffy.
He doesn't protest when I make him sport bandannas. He is my obsession. He is a blissful, picturesque, lovable, animated, food obsessed, drunken dog. He possesses the softest ears in the universe. (Check it out on world records for soft ears.)His puppy face can evoke a grown mans deepest emotions. He loves cats. He needs a helmet. Originally, I wanted a tattoo of his paw print on the bottom of my foot, but that is not practical... damn the lack of pigment! The reason I wanted his paw print on the bottom of my foot was this whole innuendo of soul to soul. Sole of foot to sole of foot, you see? I'm tired of hearing that animals don't have souls and I refuse to believe it. That boy got soul, I tell ya.

53.

This is Elvis Elliot Hairy... The First.

This is Elliot.
This is Elile-butt.
He is beautiful, "special", and missing half an ear.
He came out meowing and he rarely stops.
The first time I picked him up (briefly after he was born) I handed him straight back to my dad and said "Something is wrong with this one. Hand me a different one. It won't shut up."
Long story short, I expended my whole piggy bank on his vet bill and so I got to keep him. I love him.
He demands attention but likes it very specifically, and very infrequently does he like attention when it comes from anyone but yours truly.
If you touch his ears he'll loathe you, if you're tall he hates you, and if you don't nourish him on a regular basis he has no interest in knowing you. He has a kiss obsession. He loves kisses. Right on top of his Pyongyang head. Ellie-butt is beast and is one animal that has swayed me to love animals like I do, and so I would like to dedicate my first day of countdown to him. Additionally, I would like to point out that my bare right foot is proud to call him inspiration for the words "cruelty free".