Just answered my first “how are you?” of Thanksgiving with “SUPER GOOD! TOTALLY FINE. DEFINITELY NOTHING WEIRD IS HAPPENING.” so I’d say things are off to a great start.
‘Sure Vincent! I believe ya! No kidding, I believe ya,” Kenneth said. “But if you’re just making stuff up, why don’t you make up something that’s good. See? If you just made up something good, is what I mean. Good stuff happens. Lots of times. Boy, Vincent! You could be writing about good stuff. You could write about good stuff, I mean about good guys and all. Boy, Vincent!” He looked at me with his eyes shining—yes, shining. The boy’s eyes could shine.
“Kenneth,” I said—but I knew I was licked.
My mother is on a date right now. Not technically divorced yet, but 21 months separated, she is on a date with a man about whom I know nothing other than that he’s handsome and has a strong handshake and he looked a bit overwhelmed by meeting me, which is, of course, my favorite kind of man. Anyway, she’s on a date right now, and I’m on the couch watching Gone With the Wind for the thirtieth time, envisioning Tony Soprano and Scarlett O’Hara having a conversation about whether or not they’re respectively going to hell and how totally scary religion is when you’re not a great person.
OH MY GOD one of our tigers did this (and it isn’t stuck on his head; one of the keepers went in to see if he needed help and he undid this and redid it on his own a few times) but oh my god hE’S PRETENDING TO BE A LION IM GONNA DIE
Windy morning on Michigan Ave, 1946, Chicago
FEELING: The one where the sudden knowledge that someone will never love you drops into your brain chilly and small like a marble through gelatin, and whether it’s right or wrong it can never be extracted through that same neat bloodless tunnel; you will need to plunge your hand in after it and tear up everything.
HOW TO EAT IT: Bread pudding. Mac and cheese.
is that you can get into town at 10 am feeling totally good about everything, and then suddenly it’s 2 pm and you’re sobbing while singing along to “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” alone in your car in the high school parking lot after a craft show, no matter that
- you’re not sad
- or in high school
- or interested in crafts.
And that’s what the suburbs are like, Arcade Fire.
it is really, incredibly, intensely important to me on a very deep level that a video on “the boys of one direction working out” includes exactly zero footage of louis tomlinson working out
a very important life move that i learned from nell is “channeling emotional messiness into your hair”, so now i’ve got a barely-visible purple dip dye job worthy of the pinterest teen i truly am.
thanksgiving break is going incredibly well, thank you for asking.