Subjective Visual Perception

best cover of this song

Thu, 28 Feb 2013 23:36:02 -0500

best cover of this song

in which our heroine avoids studying

Sat, 19 Jan 2013 20:28:10 -0500

because GOOD LORD this is a lot of Philosophical consideration this early in the semester. So much orange highlighter in The 4 Noble Truths by The Buddha.

Unfuck Your Habitat: Why "company ready" is good, but "you ready" is better.

Sat, 29 Dec 2012 10:18:14 -0500

Unfuck Your Habitat: Why "company ready" is good, but "you ready" is better.:

unfuckyourhabitat:

Raise your hand if this sounds familiar: for whatever reason, someone is coming to your house. And you’re in a complete panic, frantically cleaning whatever you can get to as quickly as you can, just so the house will be “company ready” for your guests.

Here’s a serious question, though: why do…

Ezekiel always stands at the top of stairs shouting to his...

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 08:38:00 -0500

Ezekiel always stands at the top of stairs shouting to his brother and dad as they leave. Usually, he sits on the top step but this day he wanted to get some force behind it.

As I Walked Out One Evening

Sat, 15 Sep 2012 00:30:13 -0400

As I walked out one evening,

Walking down Bristol Street,

The crowds upon the pavement

Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing

Under an arch of the railway: “Love has no ending.

“I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

And the salmon sing in the street,

“I’ll love till the ocean

Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

Like geese about the sky.

“The years shall run like rabbits,

For in my arms I hold

The Flower of the Ages,

And the first love of the world.”

But all the clocks in the city

Began to whirr and chime:

“O let not Time deceive you,

You cannot conquer Time.

“In the burrows of the Nightmare

Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

And coughs when you would kiss.

“In headaches and in worry

Vaguely life leaks away,

And Time will have his fancy

Tomorrow or today.

“Into many a green valley

Drifts the appalling snow;

Time breaks the threaded dances

And the diver’s brilliant bow.

“O plunge your hands in water,

Plunge them in up to the wrist;

Stare, stare in the basin

And wonder what you’ve missed.

“The glacier knocks in the cupboard,

The desert sighs in the bed,

And the crack in the teacup opens

lane to the land of the dead.

“Where the beggars raffle the banknotes

And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,

And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,

And Jill goes down on her back.

“O look, look in the mirror,

O look in your distress;

Life remains a blessing

Although you cannot bless.

“O stand, stand at the window

As the tears scald and start;

You shall love your crooked neighbor

With all your crooked heart.”

It was late, late in the evening,

The lovers they were gone;

The clocks had ceased their chiming,

And the deep river ran on.

-Auden

oh yes, I lol’d. Ask me about the awkward moment I had at...

Fri, 27 Jul 2012 23:33:19 -0400

oh yes, I lol’d. Ask me about the awkward moment I had at the British Museum when I asked about stolen artifacts and they asked me to be quiet. True story.

June, 2012 silhouette of L as we flew back from Michigan the...

Sat, 30 Jun 2012 21:30:00 -0400

June, 2012

silhouette of L as we flew back from Michigan

the thing about marrying the man who was your best friend for 8 years before you started dating him, is that you’ve married the man who was your best friend for 8 years before you started dating him.

The most beautiful mixed bag I’ve ever experienced.

BirdieThe District Sleeps Alone Tonight. Amazing.

Sat, 30 Jun 2012 21:17:20 -0400

BirdieThe District Sleeps Alone Tonight.

Amazing.

Look, I don’t care who you are, Peter Dinklage is DEAD....

Mon, 04 Jun 2012 15:31:14 -0400

Look, I don’t care who you are, Peter Dinklage is DEAD. SEXY.

Midnight Brass, May 2012 photo by a childhood friend

Mon, 04 Jun 2012 15:25:49 -0400

Midnight Brass, May 2012

photo by a childhood friend

our heroine, May 2012 photo taken by a childhood friend

Mon, 04 Jun 2012 15:22:49 -0400

our heroine, May 2012

photo taken by a childhood friend

joncontino: Poster design for Thrice Farewell Tour. would very...

Thu, 10 May 2012 14:16:12 -0400

joncontino:

Poster design for Thrice Farewell Tour.

would very much like to buy. Very much.

"Racism isn’t born, folks. It’s taught. I have a 2-year-old son. Know what he hates? Naps. End of..."

Wed, 09 May 2012 17:36:28 -0400

“Racism isn’t born, folks. It’s taught. I have a 2-year-old son. Know what he hates? Naps. End of list.”

- Denis Leary, 1992 (via bringingupbaby)

Juliet hair

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 15:12:00 -0400

Juliet hair

Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 23:59:34 -0400

bohemea:

I can still name most of the cats I had as a girl There were dozens: scrappy outdoor toms; sleek indoor beauties received as birthday gifts; strays; babies born of the strays mating with the scrappy toms; inherited cats with names; new and nameless baby kittens. I loved them all, my parents allowed them all. Our home also, at various times, sported an aquarium filled with sleek scarlet betas and gossamer guppies, a hamster cage, and mixed-breed ankle-high dogs. One time we even rescued an infant rabbit around Easter; we named him Cadbury and he lived for 3 days.

My father buried all our pets. Each pet was uniquely mourned, and their deaths recalled as easily as their names. Scarecrow was poisoned and then drowned in the pool. Sassy’s kidneys shut down after 15 years with our family. Miss Kitty spent her last hours in the cat house outside that Papa built for the cats. Killer was my 14th birthday present and died in Papa’s arms 17 years later. Buster died of heat stroke while we were on vacation. Mooch was found one late summer day hiding in a closet. Papa held her at the vet’s office as they administered the shot, took her home and buried her before returning to work. I came home that day from registering for my first high school classes to find a pink teddy bear on the kitchen counter with a bookmark tucked between its paws and a note from Papa written on the back about how much I loved Mooch and how brave I was to make the decision to have her put to sleep and end her suffering. I still have the bookmark. I read the note the day after Chester died.

We never had a big dog. There were a couple attempts, but Momma preferred cats and small dogs, and since we were never lacking in pet love, I always saw owning a big dog as something paired with adulthood. I would dream of my large canine, though. I would own a Rottweiler named Chet who drove in the back of a pick-up truck with me on various adventures. I would adopt a blue eyed Siberian husky and name it after some mythological character. My dog would be large, loyal and never leave my side. My wish was granted in Chester.

I hadn’t set out to adopt a large dog when I found Chester. Instead I was considering a medium sized dog among a litter at a pet store. The dogs were adorable, but yappy. I didn’t care for them. I stood in the area where the dogs being considered for adoption ran and played and charmed potential buyers into taking them home. The white puppies were trying very hard. They rolled over each other, barked, jumped, shook toys; they did everything a dog does to win over a human. Chester, a lone pup, sat quietly off to the side, watching the other puppies play. He was plump and fluffy. His ears pointed straight up and his eyes, hooded by a layer of furry skin, were soulful and a bit worried. Chester’s eyes were always a bit worried. I approached him, gathered him in my arms and buried my face in the folds of neck scuff that surrounded his sweet face. His mouth opened to reveal a pink tongue dotted with black spots. He was so odd looking; I had to have him! The playful pups were forgotten and the strange worried creature came home with me.

Read More

A conversation, a sailor and a homemaker. We never address the tension.

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:23:00 -0400

Him: oh man, i met the portland version of you last night. i was on my heels. witty retorts and all. i can even see her baking in years to come.

me: I sent her. I have minions everywhere. The domestication begins ;)

Him: i wasn't kidding about that girl being distilled from your sauce

me: She was a early 20s divorcee too? What are the odds? :)

Him: i'm talking like WHOA. i kept staring at her face and seeing whisps of you. (that may have been the muscle relaxers...car accident yesterday)

me: So my twin, was she a gorgeous sharp tongued genius like myself or just a pale comparison because you miss me? But seriously, where did you meet her? And how random, I rarely am one of those people who have twins out in the universe.

Him: identical cheek bone structure. identical wit. curvy in all the necessaries.

me: I like her already!

Him: i spend most of time throwing random witty shit out into the universe. 40% goes over peoples heads. when i find a girl like yourself, who keeps up with me? it makes me all fuzzy. The ex could never keep up with me. large problem in retrospect

me: She kept up with you enough to keep you going for a while, the regular sex helped take the edge off I'm sure

Him: tis true. and the outdoor adventures and forced health in the kitchen

me: And not to be wretched but it's not a marathon to match wits with you, so that can't be the only thing making you smitten. those of us you are fond of do it with aplomb and you don't want to fuck B. (unless you do and if you do can I watch? hot)

Pablo: ew

me: you're wrong. hot. And I don't even find B attractive.

Pablo: you're exceptional. but we are our own island, there are many in this world with a narrow perspective, and i'm finding that no matter how illustrious the cleavage, i can't find myself diving in the dumb pool (much) anymore.

me: All right, I'll bite. Especially now that I spend a good chunk of time with the type of Christians who take a lot of pride in how little they know about the world. I swallow a lot of bile these days. blah blah love your neighbor blah. We are exceptional. Even if my father does not find me so. And tells me.

Him: he got a dumb streak in him to say that.

me: meh, if his greatest regret is "raising unexceptional children" he is totally overlooking ALL THE YEARS HE WAS AN ALCOHOLIC...great parenting dad.

Him: i think that the best part about our people is that we are trying to acheive breadth of perspective, not simply a heightening of stature and cash money hos

me: although breadth of perspective AND cash money hos would not be remiss...ask anybody.

danielleh: absquatulate: nevver: Obama & Star Trek’s Lt....

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 15:38:29 -0400

danielleh:

absquatulate:

nevver:

Obama & Star Trek’s Lt. Uhura

<3

Nothing makes me happier than seeing President Obama use the power of his office for nerdery. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY HE IS. Nerds rule.

yes. amazing. MARVELOUS.

bohemea: This is a really important piece of archival 90s...

Thu, 29 Mar 2012 16:52:18 -0400

bohemea:

This is a really important piece of archival 90s footage.

true story: my husband can do that little smirk thing that Ethan Hawke does in this scene. He only busts it out when he wants something.

bohemea: Bohemea Habit To soothe myself when I’m fretful I...

Tue, 27 Mar 2012 20:27:47 -0400

bohemea:

Bohemea Habit

To soothe myself when I’m fretful I lightly tap each of my fingers to my thumb: pointer, middle, ring, pinky, pinky, ring, middle, pointer & repeat until I feel better.

I also crack my knuckles.

oh my! This is the tic I developed after doing biofeedback therapy for panic attacks. When I get anxious look at my left hand and you’ll see each of my fingers lightly tapping my thumb in order….FASCINATION that I’m not the only person who does this!

File under: ill advised food crafting...

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 19:22:35 -0500

File under: ill advised food crafting...:

You know who DOESN’T like Irish Car Bombs to celebrate St. Patricks Day? Irish people. Primarily because of the ill named drinks referencing a really dark period for them and St. Patricks Day being an opportunity to remember the glorious dead. But cute!