September 30, 2012

August.

He had met her first, at his roommate's twentieth birthday party. Standing in the center of the room, with a pointed party hat perched on top of her head, its elastic band snapped and dangling beneath her chin. He was still pretty neurotic back then. Had only recently stopped carrying a folded copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. And only then because he was tired of being "that guy." Everyone said that she was pretty and knew it. But did she?

He asked her that night if that were true, and she couldn't answer clearly. Drunk, maybe. But there was more to it than that. As if she were tired of attempting to justify the sheer joy of one's hair looking good on a Friday morning, or the pleasure of pink lipstick. More than that even, as she turned to him in the shadow of the shingled roof, and said, "I just want to be perfect. I wish I were perfect."



(Salinger).


(Kate Moss).


September 29, 2012

September 28, 2012

I can't keep noticing you (across rooms),
in peripheral vision--
with two corresponding holes in your left black sock.

September 24, 2012



When you run make sure you run to something and not away from
'Cause lies don't need an aeroplane to chase you anywhere.

September 23, 2012

The weekend was lovely. An early morning drive to New Jersey found us happy and bleary-eyed. We spent the night in a cabin on a White Tail Deer Farm all bundled in soft bunks. Saturday morning upon arrival, we deposited our bags and climbed into a wagon filled with hay bales, to be pulled by a tractor to the local apple orchard, where we waded through the tall grass to find the perfect apples. Afterwards, pumpkin cheesecake and graham cracker ice cream with sweet apple cider. There was skeet shooting (which I chose to forgo in deference to gun control) and then before dinner, we crouched with corn husks and fed deer out of our hands. This morning, after a heaping breakfast we reluctantly climbed back into the car and came back to the city to begin another week. The joy remains though. Fall is here!










September 21, 2012

If I can just make it through Friday and the last, disappointing hours of this week…
Tomorrow morning will come, fresh-aired and early, and with it: a quiet drive to a Jersey dear farm for apple picking and long wanderings through the woods. A 24 hour escape from the city is exactly what my heart needs.


September 19, 2012

September 14, 2012

Update.


Fall is here! Overeager leaves are already jumping from their trees to the Brooklyn pavements, and I'm counting down the days until all of New York City is alight with burning colors and blurring breezes. New things are on the horizon, and though life has settled back into a routine, the day-to-day is still tinted with the joy of new clothes and classes. My apartment is finally starting to look lived in, and the act of coming home from Wall Street after long days to kick off my shoes and curl up by the open window will simply never get old.

Reading: Vanity Fair by William Thackeray
Listening To: Boy & Bear


September 11, 2012

September 10, 2012

The day after, she called a friend to complain about the bugs.
From a distant city- his voice low and slightly plaintive- he said,
Aren't you well? Is there anything you want?


Mary Jo Bang.


September 9, 2012

September 7, 2012


Texting Mum.

Me: meow
Mum: purr

best mother/daughter relationship dynamic ever.

September 6, 2012

September 3, 2012

September 2, 2012


I wish every morning could be Sunday morning.

All curled up in a comforter, drinking coffee by the open window, rainy day music soft from the corner radio, simple sorts of happiness.

Simple source of happiness.