Bleeding.

Tomorrow I am taking most of the day off to navigate my way up to Ft. Collins to get my drivers licence.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaay madder than even I am. It's crochet! Buy the pattern, I dare you.

Can you believe that I am glad the weekend is over? No? Well it's true. Sucktastic weekend, pthbbt on you.

The funniest bit was my down pillow exploding in the wash over at the Nazi laundromat (they have the Ten Commandments up and a bunch of basically-PreciousMoments-posters, plus about a million signs that read "You are on video surveillance; you will PAY for any damage to the machines" and "We are not responsible for any theft or damage to your personal property" and "If the washer stops mid-cycle you have overfilled it or added to much soap. No refunds.") So I can't go back there I guess--I bet they have a lot of feathers in the pipes.

And I had to buy new pillows cuz they were all ruint. Hi-larious.

Almost as mad as I.

You know why I am sad?

I think it is because nobody ever has or will spray paint my name on a water tower, or has gotten or will get my name tattooed on themselves. It would be nice to be memorialized in graffiti, even if it was like "Ivy B___ is a slut!"

One time I thought I saw my name carved into a bench at the Chapter House in Ithaca, but I think it was probably just beer and a desperate desire to be important.

Dumdeedumdeedum,

Um. Well, I guess the question is: where can a girl get 700 grams of dk weight angora (white please) for under 80 bucks?

No, not really. The real question is: where am I going to put my bike during my class? I am afraid to leave it here at work--I can't remember how to disarm the security system for when I am here and no one else is.

I just want a nice life like everyone else seems to have.

Hipster Bingo

Lemmesee. This week I begin Belly Dance classes. I need to renegotiate my lease today at lunchtime, so that it's only for six months. I had a photoshoot yesterday in the conference room (photographer, not model). And I've finished all the spray painting for the mod art installation I'm planning for the living room; I am screwing off today lest I get too tired to finish the project when I get home.

"House of the Rising Sun" is stuck in my head. I love how nobody knows where it came from. Rah ha ha.

Swatchitty:

eeee!

You know what I don't get? I don't get why Sledge Hammer never became a cult classic tv programme.

This link's for Kate: http://www.indigirl.com.

Weeeeekend! Doot doot doot.

Well, in an hour and fifteen minutes.

My feet are really gross. They're all, like peeling and cracked from wearing flip-flops all the time, and no matter how hard I scrub I can't get the asphalt dust out. Man.

Also, I don't know what I'm doing with my life. If anyone has major, fun suggestions, do feel free to email me. Like, can anyone think of a magazine that isn't offensive like National Geographic, but that would allow me to travel around and write like NG would?

The birthday I was dreading turned out to be maaaahhhvelous. Thanks everybody!

WROWRR!



Yeah, it's a good thing they made Orlando Bloom her childhood friend--otherwise, her choice would have made no fucking sense. 'Jack Sparrow' nearly made me cream myself, good gracious.

Hooligan Bear


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Nuh-uh, I'm a pirate! Arr!

You betcha.

Hey! The new girl in the office across from mine is nice! Cool! Things you never discover if you just lurk at your desk all the time....

PS Arrrr! Tonight, me hearties, I'll be off to see a movie.

Okay, links don't really count as content.

I had a lovely holiday weekend. Went up to Laramie, hung out with my mum's good friend Jan. It was very nice, but very exhausting, as I had to sleep on a constantly deflating air mattress on the floor. And it's been hot. Saw fireworks and people I remember from when I was eight, who have (oddly enough) also aged fifteen years in reality, if not in my head. Some of them even have enormous tattoos of Jesus on their forearms. And we made raspberry ice-cream.

I am the crankiest person ever today, also. Saw a magazine photo of J-Lo in a swimsuit, and realized that I used to have a figure pretty much like that, didn't use it, and will probably never have it again. Bloody hell. But, then, I assume they airbrushed her stretch marks away, too.

We went to the old Exxon station (Les' Service), and I noticed how very much I like looking at the hands of men who have done a lot of work on cars.

I miss having company.

Knit yourself an Elvis wig.

Or, courtesy of Kate, Pirate fun!

As if hot dogs weren't funny enough by themselves.

"and you could have it all, my empire of dirt..."

Oy, it's been a long time since I've had that song stuck in my head for days at a time.

I've been promoted to Assistant Editor, huzzah, and I am going away for the weekend.

Happy family day, everybody! I think it really says something about this country that Independence day is the day we all split off into our own little groups.

vinyl cuff

Best book ever: Everyday Knitting: Treasures from a Ragpile, by Annemor Sundbo. Fascinating.

The new Harry Potter ain’t bad either—tho if Harry doesn’t get over his stupid adolescent rage, I’m hoping Hermione will garrotte him.

I don't want to be 24. I am putting my foot down and not doing this birthday.

If anyone runs across any wicked cool opportunities for a job that involves travel and could use my skills (propaganda writing, fire-breathing, burliness, knitting), let me know, okay? Itchy feet.

Hi, Angie! --if you are out there. Kate told me she gave you my contact info--sorry, I lost yours in the move!