Polishing boots!
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warmest wishes
Deck the halls with nightmare fuel, the Texas Mari Lwyd is coming for you.
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Snow days, Holledays
We put new tires on the Fit and tricked the dogs into thinking we were going to the park.
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hipster Easter bunny cake
Proof I am my mother’s daughter.
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decembering
Into a false winter where the sun still feels a balmy 69 then sets when it damn please.
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annual xmas feats of strength
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christmas came!
I launched my first tree, found last summer curbside-sad while on an alley jog through East Isles.
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hear hear the new year, sharp and brave
Anna took this picture at dive-bar karaoke. We sang “Pump Up the Jam,” it is the longest song ever, and EMF’s “Unbelievable,” which we mangled. It was stellar, a night to remember, I can do things that are stupid but still scare me. Christmas happened, draining, driving all over groundstorming North Dakota, thinking about Thailand…
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sparkler lady
Chain-lighting sparklers while Mom held back the toddlers, I burned only one boy.
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whos laughing now
A selection of Chinese-made American fireworks. My favorite is Baby Boomers, with the sad, frustrated adults.
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the force of july
Happy Fourth!
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this how we do
This is what we’re made of, where we came from, what we’re for.
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festive appliance
And yet I am accused of insufficient holiday spirit.
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rapt & grabby
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for a limited time only
The University of Victoria has a Ring Road and I have determined this to be a damned shame, consistently warping my sense of direction and claiming the distinction of long-standing university political contention. Why aren’t we on the inside of The Ring? like academics don’t have enough things to bitch about. The best green buildings,…
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the idiots
Victoria finally got the guts, the ambition, the fire in its belly eating up the oxygen from the wind in its sails to scorch its fair citizens with 84 degrees, no breeze, brazen.
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the adventure
For a month I carried my life around in a suitcase.
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fight this
Trekking all over Seattle finds me a tofu corn dog and Chipotle I couldn’t pass up, poetry on the streets sold on scraps and rapped from corners.
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will, way, check.
If you’re reading this, I’m a genius, or dogged enough to figure out how to make it happen—ftp from the university in secrecy as though anyone would care, really, though surreptitious down- and uploading is undoubtedly frowned upon. I’ve been working at a library at the U of M since the beginning of September to…
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sungod prayers
Days have been long—the nights, rather, excruciatingly lightless, while time drops like a depth charge out of my control. I’d’ve been all over this forever night nonsense were I, say, fourteen and goth. Unfortunately (?) I’m adult and postmodern (postpunk, postrave, postyouth, postal) and prime to succumb to seasonal affective disorder. Thank god (ahem—a mangered…
