vamp love


I'd let them bite me.


I have Twilight fever. Yes, I know the books are ridiculous. Yes, I know there is no literary value in Stephanie Meyer’s writing. Yes, I know Robert Pattinson doesn’t bathe, and that if I ever actually met a guy like Edward I would run, not walk, away because he’s a creeper. (Seriously, he’s possesive and obsessive and moodier than a 12 year old girl. No thanks.)

BUT, I can’t help it. So, I will fly my freak flag high and dive right in with my random thoughts.

1. “Kstew” and “Rpatz” (as A calls them) are not necessarily attractive individuals, but, with their powers combined they are aesthetically complementary of one another. They just go together. See above.

2. Kristen Stewart is pretentious, snotty, stoner who can’t act and pretends like she doesn’t want to be famous (I call bull-shit).  She is also one lucky bee-otch. Good for her.

3. Luckier still is Stephanie Meyer. She wrote one good story, sloshed her way through three more books and her work was miraculously adopted by teenagers, moms, hollywood, and rock stars…

4. Which brings me to my next point. Since when did musicians decide that Twilight is the coolest thing ever? The New Moon soundtrack features completely hipster-approved bands such as Muse, the Killers, Grizzly Bear, Thom Yorke, and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (just to name a few). Was there a convention? Did they all get together for coffee (read: booze) and lay out a plan that used their talents to turn something mediocre into something really cool?

Whatever, I’m still going to be at the movie theater on November 20.



Was on a hiatus.

Went temporarily INSANE and got 2 part-time jobs.

Did not sleep for a month.

Learned that retail is SO not my thing.

Better now.


Behind that chipper exterior is a blistering tower of rage and the desire to dip that customer in acid.

lyric love


Been beat up and battered round
Been sent up, and Ive been shot down
You’re the best thing that Ive ever found
Handle me with care

Reputations changeable
Situations tolerable
Baby, youre adorable
Handle me with care

Im so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Wont you show me that you really care

Everybody’s  got somebody to lean on
Put your body next to mine, and dream on

Ive been fobbed off, and Ive been fooled
Ive been robbed and ridiculed
In day care centers and night schools
Handle me with care

Been stuck in airports, terrorized
Sent to meetings, hypnotized
Overexposed, commercialized
Hand me with care

Im so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Wont you show me that you really care
Everybody’s  got somebody to lean on

Put your body next to mine, and dream on

Ive been uptight and made a mess
But Ill clean it up myself, I guess
Oh, the sweet smell of success
Handle me with care

“i brought you flours”


Actually, I brought myself flowers. White Gerber daisies (which I usually think are cliche and trite*) and bright purple orchids.

The strong, independent, self-sufficient girl in me told myself: “It’s fine to buy yourself flowers. You like flowers, you’ve worked hard all week, and it is perfectly alright that you want to treat yourself.”

The other, ridiculous half of my brain kept saying: “LAAAAAME.” I kept thinking that if I had a beau, someone handsome would’ve done the errand for me.

… but I know that isn’t entirely true. I know a few girls who tell me their bfs think flowers are useless and a waste because “they’re just going to die”. This is also untrue.

Men of the World, listen up:

Nothing is a waste if you make your girlfriend feel happy and special. Just buy the damn flowers, so she doesn’t have to do it herself.

Bonus points if it’s on an ordinary day. “Just Because” flowers are better than any holiday bouquet. Trust.

*just don’t ever buy carnations. they are nothing but a cheap weed.

ruby tuesday


I’m a little sad today.

School is starting this week and I find myself feeling lonely and left out. There are new people, strangers, in my desk at work. Freshman are taking my seats in lecture halls. It’s as if I was never there.

I always wanted to avoid being one of those people who are constantly reflective and live in the past… eff that. Just for a moment or two, I’m going to wallow and grieve for what I’m missing out on, what I had and what I’ve lost.

It makes me think of that Rolling Stones song, Ruby Tuesday.

“She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don’t matter if it’s gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I’m gonna miss you…”

*picture from

high flyer


The "visionary" herself. For being stuck in a plane so much, (and having practically NO eyebrows) this photo is kind of glamourous.

So, when I went to see The Time Traveler’s Wife last weekend, they showed a trailer for Amelia, Hillary Swank’s latest endeavor based on the life of American Icon, Amelia Earhart (that’s E-A-R-H-A-R-T, you’ll want to remember how to spell it later).

I think the two-time Oscar winner (Boys Don’t Cry, Million Dollar Baby) is going for number three. The trailer manages to be beautiful and inspiring in under two minutes. I’m sold.

working girl

Oh, joy! Oh, rapture! Thank you Jay-sus, I’m employed. My new title is “Receptionist”, but it might as well be “Pam Beasely”, because that’s what I am… unfortunately, minus a Jim. Not to worry. Now that the money is flowing in (and by flowing, I mean trickling) I’ll just BUY a man.

Ok, not really, but I feel very can-do at the moment, even if my life is already on the cusp of drudgery and routine. This calls for Mary. New mantra: What Would Mary Do?

MTM, Camilla Belle

Here is Camilla Belle, the Jo-Bro slayer herself, channeling Ms. Moore. Lovely.