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| Let's call this the intent to kill, not killing.So day before yesterday, some of the girls and I went up to Fort Worth to see the Impressionist exhibit at the Kimbell, and I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't beside myself in an excessively nerdy way. The two paintings that are still perfectly clear in my mind's eye are both by Van Gogh (of course): one of his self portraits and the fourth version of "Bedroom in Arles" which is actually my favorite of the five. Van Gogh and I shared a moment where I couldn't help falling deeply in love with his eyes in the self portrait, and his eyes seemed to be equally enamoured with mine. It was beautiful. I discovered that I love Toulouse-Lautrec and his garish, expressive images and colors. My favorites of his were "At the Moulin Rouge" and "At the Circus Fernando." I almost burst into tears when I saw the first Renoir at the exhibit and couldn't tear myself away from the last Monet. Kylie and I developed a passionate dislike for Gauguin, who was a self-righteous butthead who was into the whole being one with nature thing, and painted awkward pictures of Southern American natives in primarily pinks and browns. He compared himself to Jean Valjean, which kind of did him in in my estimation. I'm still fond of Degas' ballerinas. We were also able to take advantage of half price Tuesdays and student pricing, so the trip was very affordable, and we were able to take in the architecture at the Modern for free, and I love Fort Worth. I don't think I'll ever get over it. Also, I love my family. I don't think I'll ever get over them. Kylie and I met a couple cool girls at Revolutions last night. I'd never been to Revolutions, but it's a coffee shop/bar kind of place in downtown Bryan that I kind of fell in love with. They have homemade Sangria and the wall of the courtyard is painted with a giant rendition of "Starry Night." I miss Fort Worth, and I miss H&M, and I miss my brothers, and I miss the rain always coming down on the diagonal, and I miss porches, and I don't miss you. I love being on my own. | | |
| I want to make you smile every morning.I went and saw "Mamma Mia" this morning with the girls and was appropriately overwhelmed at how well Pierce Brosnan has aged and that they talked Meryl Streep into playing that role and at how much I love the song "Dancing Queen." It was fun and dorky and shouldn't be seen by males, but it was a good movie to see with the girls in the morning. I was inspired to date someone who looks a lot like the groom guy...let me see...Dominic Cooper. Yeah, him. He's not that hot, but he just looks so dateable. I actually didn't make that much money at work last night, but I did have my usual good Sunday night time. I learned how to say "bored" and "beautiful" in Spanish, and then went to play volleyball afterwards. I ended up just talking on the sidelines, but what else is new. I don't care for organized sports that much. I would be all in for rock climbing or biking or swimming, but organized sports that involve a ball in and of themselves don't have much appeal to me. I find that rather than getting more interested in the election, which is what usually happens, I am getting less interested. This is unfortunate because a lot of people are really into it, and honestly I've heard more awesome theories this election year than any other. I feel sorry for the Republican party having to support someone as boring and respectable as John McCain, while the Democratic candidates were much more dramatic and colorful (no pun intended). While I think I'm going to vote for McCain, I feel like I'm going to be bored doing it. One of my pet peeves is when boys say, "You know you feel it too." Well, I would know if I was feeling it too, but I'm not. And don't act like you know what I'm feeling, because if you could you would know the only thing I'm feeling is disgust and impatience. So leave me alone. I have a lot of really brilliant plans for the fall, but mostly right now I am trying to survive the Texas summer, which has been hellish, as usual. I have to walk like half a mile to get to work because we're not allowed to park in the actual parking lot, due to the fact that whoever built the dang restaurant was too short-sighted to include sufficient parking space. I mean, someone has to take the blame for the fact that I arrive red in the face and miserably sticky. I try to always let the managers know how I suffer, which is one of the many reasons why I'm their favorite. I'm not the girl that you think you saw
Popping my knuckles just waiting to fall | | |
| I told you I could be better.Recently the combination of not wearing any makeup except foundation and not doing things that are bad ideas has given me time to do important things like watch "Hairspray" and "Clueless" repeatedly and have late night excursions with my roommate. Last night we went around town leaving chalk art on friends' doorsteps and blowing giant bubbles. It was fun. I was amazed by the bubbles. It seems so odd that something so childish and simple can produce something mesmerizingly beautiful and really short-lived. I guess when you think about it, it's not really that odd. I am all about giving Heath Ledger a posthumous Oscar for his work in the new Batman movie. I just think he did an amazing job, and that role was part of what killed him, and it's his last and greatest role...it would be a very gracious thing on the part of the Academy, and he deserved it. That movie was pretty effin' dark, and I got a little teary just thinking about Heath. Give him the Oscar, y'all. My favorite night to work is Sunday night. The pace is slower but pretty steady and for some reason just really suits me. I usually do pretty well financially speaking, and almost always enjoy it. I always ask for Sundays off, but I usually end up with every other Sunday off, and working every other Sunday night. How lucky for me that I'm working tonight. | | |
| You always let me get away with murder.I didn't work for the week surrounding my birthday, and now that I'm back in the swing of things I remember I enjoy my job when I don't do it too much. Also, post-birthday I am able to purchase cheap wine and other niceties. There's something satisfyingly adult in that, and wine is aesthetically satisfying as well. I'm not that ashamed that I often select a bottle based on how pretty it is. Duh, that's what every connoisseur does. I don't know what's wrong with me
But I wish that it was something else I just got my Jenny Owen Youngs CD in the mail and I'm listening to it as I type. That's one of the things I ended up spending my birthday money on. That and sandals, so far. I am totally psyched about once again listening to "Voice on Tape" every five minutes for a month solid. I am also totally psyched about making lists of things I need to be and things I need to do, and just making lists, I guess.Change is beyond me: I'm helpless to start
Don't try to touch me: I'll just rip apart All I know is that Jenny Owen Youngs' voice is the only one I care to have on tape these days, and I didn't need a reminder that the people who love me love me truly, and I didn't need a reminder that I am human, and I didn't need a reminder that Darkwing Duck is the bomb dot com. I do like the t-shirt, though. And you say that I don't have this down
But I've been practicing out loud | | |
| I'm waiting for Jeremy, like usual.So I have complex plans to hang out with at least four different people today while I'm in Fort Worth, all without actually using my vehicle. This plan hopefully includes some good food and not listening to my little brothers argue about who ate the rest of the Golden Grahams. (Okay, I'm not going to pretend that I didn't participate in that argument. I mean, seriously, who the heck thought it was cool to eat the rest of the Golden Grahams?) Then tomorrow I'm having a wedding birthday party here with my family, and then driving back to College Station, because on Sunday I am (a) turning 21, (b) going to church with Lindsey, and (c) having a non-wedding, just-birthday party. Just to clarify, I am not getting married; I was just telling my mom I wish someone would get married because I really want groom's cake, the kind with chocolate-covered strawberries, and punch, and those little pastel mints. And she, being a genius, suggested that I have that stuff at my birthday party. So I am! And also lasagna. Oh my GOSH, I love my life. | | |
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