I know I haven’t been blogging about books lately. Unfortunately, I’m a wack-a-doodle and I decided I could definitely take a graduate class, an education class, and have two jobs almost full-time jobs. I am so swamped with school work that I can’t seem to get the muck, dirt and grime off my leg and it is now rising to my chest like a muck monster. Rousseau is over one shoulder telling me how his dad was banished, and how sensual he was as just a child, then there’s the Myers-Brigg results telling me exactly who I am and why. Right now in my room, I’m sitting on my bed, empty water bottle cocked like a gun to my left, pillow behind my back, sagging tired eyes, and yet still, typing a freaking blog. I can’t stop myself. Ever since I started running/doing the wii, I’ve been an energizer bunny. One of these days, you’re going to be forced to look at a photo of my “before-body” so that in six months I can show you my toned, and flexed “after-body” to ouuuu, and awwhhh at. Bikini season, here I come; bring on yo’ strings and polka dots, girl.
Anyway, this week I was stressed to the max and so a lot of my pictures are stressful, or seem to come through the computer screen with a bit of angst. Maybe I’m reverting to teenage years and listening to “Teenage Dirtbag” or Sublime on repeat. Really, let’s be honest, I was totally into Brandy back then.
January 8, 2012:
I got my floating bookshelf from Little Fish Furniture. My parents and I were so excited to rip open the package with a kitchen knife (the M household is a home of misplaced tools and so instead we conjure up any old thing to solve our problems. We’d rather die, than not get our mail open). Ezra at Little Fish was so kind to send this to me, and a discount for all the people who visited my blog during the Christmas season. I can’t be more thankful for people like him, who not only give back, but create wonderful bookish things for small girls living in North Carolina with bows in their hair. So, thank you Ezra, and Little Fish Furniture. Anyone reading this should visit his website and get yourself a book….shelf. Literally.
January 9, 2012:
I like to order my books from BetterWorldBooks.com because they give free shipping worldwide. More importantly, they donate both money, and a book for every book you buy off of their website. And the money they donate goes straight to literacy funds, orgs, and agencies. While you can fill your everlasting need and insatiable thirst for the written word, children are reading with books that you essentially donated. I love the process, I love the site, I love the goals. I also happen to strongly dislike amazon.com for trying to own all the houses and hotels on the monopoly board especially Boardwalk and Park Place. However, a lot of times when I visit Better World Books, I get books from libraries that have a large, black, DISCARD stamp on them.
Someone took ink to this books organs and now I own a reject. It’s not nice to bully, Houston Public Library System.
January 10, 2012:
“GOD is not spelled G.O.P.” Yes, I’m that person pulling out their cell phone to take a picture of your bumper stickers. I especially like the ones with the blonde chick in glasses saying “Reading is Sexy.” Why can’t she be a red head though, “why you gotta hate?”
January 11, 2012:
I was having a terrible day when I took this picture. I’m not patient, or fun-loving…it wasn’t pretty. Rob is lucky he has to call himself my friend, and not just my boss/mentor because I’m sure he wanted to slap me around. Of course, I realized five minutes later after fuming for a bit in the car that we were across from the Homeless Shelter…and anything wrong for me at that moment … could always be worse. While I sat there for fifteen minutes or so each time we went back and forth, I watched as people hung around one another, laughing outside of the building. The only thing different about this group of people laughing and my friends and I laughing, is the large suitcases they toted behind them. That suitcase holds their entire life. I wonder if they can even pack books when they have to pack sweatshirts and clean underwear. They probably have no books. So, keep the homeless in your prayers as it gets colder throughout January in Raleigh and anywhere, really.
January 12, 2012:
Memoir class has had me faithfully return to my alma mater and write some beautiful shit (fingers crossed). Here is our famous bell tower to your left.
January 13, 2012:
Just another moment of plant-lady naturalness. I couldn’t help but take a photo of all the pots in a row. I love brown pots, there’s something earthy about them that makes each perfect for it’s own plant, or spice. Put them on a windowsill and they recreate a kitchen. Or, plant like my father, and have a jungle mane growing behind the dining table. His is full of Christmas cactus and other assortments of plants meant to be in the ever glades, that grow up and beyond any space you have to fit them. That’s my father. Will it be me one day? Probably.
January 14, 2012:
Leaving Timberlake I came across this sunset and then passing the lake I came across the reflection. It’s just a good, sentimental note I think. A good ending perhaps; you, me, this blog riding off into the sunset together (I’m just…a tad afraid of horses though).