December 2011
86 posts
kathryndee:
florence + the machine - addicted to...
counterpunches replied to your post: i’d just like to know what i did…
That’s super unfortunate. There’s a special place in hell for loud, obnoxious neighbors.
the best part is that i just went out front to take out the trash, and she and farmer ted are just sitting on the porch where the music cannot even be heard. so it’s like they just want me to suffer…
i'd just like to know what i did...
to deserve having the worst neighbor in the world.
when i’m not having to listen to her pale, pasty, hipster sex with her farmer boyfriend (followed nonsensically by very loud npr news items), or the completely inexplicable sounds of babies crying (they don’t have kids) or running from one end of the house to the other, it sounds like she’s got her stereo speakers actually...
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landofwrongness:
Jeremy Northam, “The Land of...
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chapter four posted
a moment of melancholy for your new year’s eve…
i'm working on chapter four; i promise...
In the almost-three years of my life that were consumed by our affair, I never truly got used to Quinn’s disappearing habit. But, at least in the beginning, I found other ways to keep myself busy. There was my job at the diner, auditions to go on, and a whole city to explore. And I suppose that, at first anyway, there was something just a bit exciting and romantic about not knowing when I would...
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i can't believe i'm in the office today.
kill me.
going to try to write a decent chapter four today, and then we’ll see what happens.
i miss poor lucas.
i'd like to apologize to the 23 people who have...
i honestly think it’s one of the worst things i’ve ever written, and i don’t know if i’ll ever finish it…
don't hold on to sixteen
in high school, she was the girl i invited to my fourteenth birthday party, the one i thought was probably too cool to show up. i remember my friends and i sitting around my parents’ living room in our pajamas, nervously anticipating her arrival, and then suddenly, there she was, fully resplendent in all her indifference.
she was the girl who wrote notes to me in spanish, with little...
this is why...
me: well, last night was interesting...
her: interesting like an informative documentary, or interesting like the way my grandma describes my wardrobe?
me: interesting as in i'm pretty sure i got propositioned last night, but instead of feeling like hot shit, i just feel like shit.
her: i expect a full report when i get home; i'll bring the beer.
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the short version of the story of last night
is that the food was ok (though our order was hopelessly mishandled), the conversation was enjoyable, and i’m pretty sure i got propositioned. which, fine. i guess that means maybe i’m not as horrifying to look at as tend to think i am.
but, honestly. fuck you, universe. this is a situation that is of no use to me at present, but could have been amazing, you know, any other time...
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well, it's not the best i've ever looked...
but unless i figure out a way to lose ten pounds in the next hour, i guess it’s about as good as it’s going to get.
here goes nothin’…
counterpunches replied to your post: chapter three posted
I hope the food’s good! :P
me too! i’ll keep you posted.
chapter three posted
now time to prepare for the most awkward dinner of 2011.
our dreams were like fugitive warlords: part two
thismissofalife:
november 1999
every day before school, i search my room for stuff to carry in my pockets. sometimes it’s this skeleton key joey gave me when we were kids, or the liner notes from whatever cd i’m listening to that week, poems on wide-ruled notebook paper, or the latest draft of whatever short story i’m working on, folded into a tiny square.
most days i bring my guitar, too....
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possible start to chapter three:
It should have occurred to me that sleeping with the girlfriend of one of the most sought-after actors on Broadway was probably not conducive to getting my own stage career going, but that’s honestly not the reason why it took three months for us to start sleeping together. The main reason, instead, was that I was intensely intimidated by the idea of doing anything remotely intimate with a girl...
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the land of no ideas
so, in an effort to be a more organized type of writer, i started making a timeline for “every song.” and i was feeling pretty good about it, too. until i realized this morning that there’s a year and half long gap in it.
fuck.
woke up to a very nice message though:
“Yield! Jesus! That made me feel actual feelings (as opposed to just understanding them) and, like, I...
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more "yield" re-write
two
On the morning of June 1st, Rachel pulls her dads’ old minivan into the parking lot of Dalton Academy. Since graduation, she’s been hiding out at their house in Evansville, Indiana. They’ve been real sweethearts about everything that’s happened, and she knows that. Instead of pressuring her to “get back on the horse,” they just keep patting her head and joking about how nice it is not be...