Sunday, August 29, 2010//12:40 AM

anne bradstreet

To My Dear And Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cAnneot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Sunday, August 22, 2010//12:36 AM

Denis O' Hare is king

Thursday, August 12, 2010//12:25 AM

the summer of wipeout

This has been the summer of many things.
In order of significance:

1) Meg Cabot
2) True Blood
3) Wipeout
4) Christmas! (I'll celebrate it everyday if I could)
5) Sex and the City
6) Lists
7) Zombie & Audrey Hepburn fests



Oddly enough, it's the screams from the contestants of Wipeout that are in my head right now.

"We've got the police academy grad on top of the go-go dancer on top of the candyman. Or as it's commonly known, Tuesday Night in Jersey."

Monday, August 9, 2010//2:03 AM

n.e.w. eew

Since it's gonna be another new season in academics, it's time to shop in the Identity Closet.
So many choices that fit, but I can't wear them all at once without looking crazy. Or can I?
-

So many things to sort out, get done, and throw away.

But only four words seem to fit right now: God, please help me.






If I go insane, does this mean I won't have to go to school anymore?

Thursday, August 5, 2010//2:04 AM

call me fishergurl

Thanks to the floor tiles in my parent's bedroom suddenly popping up making it potentially dangerous to walk on since it could break and cut your feet, I've fine tuned the art of fishing for my clothes since they're all situated on Ground Zero. I'm just here to announce that I very cleverly used the forked contraption that's for propping up bamboo poles to pick out the stuff I needed to wear while precariously perched on my parent's bed. Here's looking at you, resourcefulness! HUZZAH! :)

P.S. Why is Pretty Little Liars such a guilty pleasure?!






The two pronged approach.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010//1:44 AM

Jay Gatsby

Dear Mr Fitzgerald,
I love your work and I find it poignantly beautiful, but it's the exact depth of such beauty that I totally do not comprehend. I fear I will not only have to go through the suffering of focusing on the academic aspect instead of enjoying the wonders of writing for your work but many other wonderful heaps of literature as well.
Please advise.

Sincerely,
I-feel-like-roadkill