why tulips?

(written last night.)

there's something absolutely unsettling about sitting on a plush, mustard-colored (and i'm talking about the nice mustard...like wes anderson mustard) couch at the hotel carlyle, knowing that the cotton cavas bag you have sitting next to you (the one you embroidered yourself with a grenade outline) is full of tupperware that you are bringing home from your 9 to 6 job.

while everyone walks by...um, including mick jagger right now...is long and lanky in cashmere and wool. they're chilled from the cold weather, but not nearly as cold as you are...

because they took a limo...

and you took the subway and spent several minutes walking a few blocks against an arctic blast.

at this particular moment, i'm feeling humbled as the sound of a big band leaks through some far off set of doors. i imagine the clientèle is tuxedoed, gowned and glittering. they tip everyone.

the doorman. the elevator man. the bellhop.

they have kind eyes, fat wallets and large luggage.

i stick out here.

...and the concierge keeps looking at me like i'm a criminal.

...as for the photo of the tulips...

well, i posted it because it puts me in a better mood.

flowers make everything better.

where have you been?

how is it that i had forgotten about the wonders of suspenders? i'm pretty sure the last time i donned a pair was over two decades ago.

clearly, i've been missing out.

if anything, i enjoy the fact that they remind me to stop scrunching my shoulders up (which is what i do when i get stressed)...they gently pull my shoulder down and back.

how shoulders should be.

hm. something tells me i may just have to start a suspender collection posthaste!

honk if you're demi moore...

so, i made the mistake of going to a loud restaurant friday night while sporting a pre-cold cough.

you know what you do at loud restaurants? you yell. you yell just so the person sitting right next to you can hear what you're saying.

it was lovely at first. got to meet dan's new lady friend. got to have scrumptious eats (oh, polenta, how your warmth and deliciousness washes over me like a millions waves made of tasty blankets)...had a wonderful time just seeing friends...

but after a few hours of yelling, some time sitting in a car with liam singing and smoking cigarettes, and a lot of chatting, i was left with a voice that is reminiscent of the screaming one does in a dream where they're being chased...you know, that scream that doesn't sound like anything...the soundless scream. just a mild rustling akin to the whispers of a rolling tumbleweed.

the weekend was spent nursing the issue. i drank so much tea, i think i'm releasing chamomile out of my pores. i slept more than i've slept in ages...and i watched more lost than i have in a long time.

i still managed to have an amazing sibling get-together which included ingesting a lot of carbs and philosphizing on our family and its quirks...and i got to have brunch with liam which included french toast, bacon...and later, a chocolate soufflé.

i'm back at the office now...and half of my co-workers like my voice now better than my real voice. they all say i sound like demi moore...and i'm not exactly sure how i feel about that...

let's not even get into my conversation with the IT guy whilst i was troubleshooting a computer about how his favorite demi moore movie was striptease...and how i sounded like her.

aaaaaaaaaaanyway, my paramour claims i sound like a goose.

i know. so flattering.

...but the fact is, i do.

i do sound like a goose.

honk!

new year's revelation

yes. yes...yes, i can do this.

i can grow my hair. i swear!

this year i'm gonna do it...and you know why? because i've decided that a pageboy is a wise choice...because when my hair is super long, i look super anonymous.

anyway, i don't like when people can't see my face. i like when people can see me scowling. it keeps them at arm's length.

at the same time, if i'm smiling, it's nice to share the smile...

who wants a curtain of hair anyway?

i don't...and hair is heavy, people. it's really heavy.

especially mine.

thanks to my mother, i've inherited hair that's made of really heavy steel. no one wants a heavy head...hair made of steel is incredibly tiring.

ok. so, that's my revelation of the day.

oh, that and how one should never visit a cold bar at an eatery and try to put fruit and food together...because by the time you get back to the office, it's just a fruity foody soup.

i speak from experience.

mangos, blueberries and blackberries shouldn't be mixed with couscous, tortellini and fresh mozzarella.

ok. it wasn't bad, but you get the point.

crabs & shorts...crorts?

ok, so today i went for a change of pace. i decided to accentuate my 13 year old chimney sweep style with some high-waisted, pleated, super-cuffed shorts.

i've never felt so chimney-sweepy in my life...and they're comfortable. i mean, does life get better than this?

life would only be better if i had a big broom with which to sweep chimneys...and some well-placed ash streaks on my face to accentuate my overall, hardworking yet naive and well-meaning personality or something.

i look forward to taking these bad boys (my shorts are, apparently, "bad" and of the male gender) for a spin in the spring sans the black tights.

...because currently wearing tights and shorts and stuffing your shirt in makes for some acrobatics every time you have to go to the bathroom.

aside from this revelation that pleated shorts can be worn without looking dorky is the fact that i still can't draw hands very well...so, clearly, my sketch is not of a girl in high-waisted shorts...but, rather, a hybrid girl crab who is confused about why she's wearing high-waisted shorts when she should be sidestepping back into the ocean for some fun of the crustacean variety.

in other news, i'm going to get my steak au poivre fix tonight at the pink pony with my dearest elizabeth.

it's peppery goodness will, undoubtedly, assure a good night.