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Make an entrance. Use your words. Take that trip. Forget fear. Love hard. Swim with dolphins. Hold your own hand. Hold on. Let go. Slide.
Letters from Grenada
confessions of a reformed tourist
Posts tagged random
santa hat and t-rex
My primary contribution to Thanksgiving dinner was a huge amount of incredibly rich cheesecake. Unfortunately I did not manage to take any photos of the cheesecakes before my family devoured them. I did, however, manage to take some extremely gratuitous photos of myself in the bathroom mirror while the cheesecakes were in the oven.
insomnia (to squeak! perchance to scream.)
I want eurotrash.
Not like gold-tipped black clove cigarettes. Like thick, lush paper that comes in so-called non-standard sizes and has little boxes instead of lines. Asymmetrical shoes. 74 varieties of yogurt. Open air markets that reek of drying anchovies. Mayonnaise on my motherfucking french fries. Deodorant that smells like kiwis. Télécartes. French people who make [...]
lemme tell you about love, people
Love is letting your snotty-faced toddler “borrow” your precious cocoa butter stick. His nose is sore, he says.
Bean, do you know what rhinovirus is?
WHAT?
Never mind, honey. And you can keep that cocoa butter stick. It’s yours now. Mommy doesn’t want it back.
And now I’m sick. It was inevitable.
Snotty-faced toddlers are like sleeper cells, man. [...]
maria being maria
I posted this on Twitter the other day.
Obviously, it’s supposed to be funny. Well. I hope that’s obvious.
For a while now I’ve wanted to post something here about what Twitter and Tumblr mean to me. But it’s kind of difficult for me to explain that to people who don’t use the services themselves. This tweet? [...]
a toast
¡Salud y amor y tiempo para disfrutarlo!
“writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia”
Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.
-E.L. Doctorow
Hm. I don’t know about that. How about misanthropy? Self-flagellation? Public masturbation? Narcissism? Burning, unbridled rage? Juvenile escapism? Or, my person favorite, insufferable navel-gazing?
Forgive me. It’s just that I’m – and I don’t think I’m alone here – I’m a bit weary of the writers-as-raving-lunatics fallacy.
(via)
on the equinox
The two revolutions, I mean the annual revolutions of the declination and of the centre of the Earth, are not completely equal; that is the return of the declination to its original value is slightly ahead of the period of the centre. Hence it necessarily follows that the equinoxes and solstices seem to anticipate their [...]
a fever dream
I was asleep, in bed, in a place that looked like some kind of infirmary. The walls were made of stone and I had the sense that it was a makeshift hospital that used to be a convent or monastery. It was quiet, and if there were other patients I didn’t see them. I guess [...]
maria at piscesinpurple dot com
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