| jack & will |
[Sunday, Jul 09, 12:46am] |
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mood |
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 disappointed |
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music |
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mazzy star |
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think possibility not plausibility.
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meters
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| and you were impressed when i could cook |
[Thursday, Jun 01, 10:42pm] |
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mood |
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 happy |
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music |
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the eraser |
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today: rouna and i went to san francisco- rented bikes at the wharf- and rode to Sausalito. up and over the golden gate. it was fantastic.
or:
zip zap zip. crash and burn but only three times . give me some credit this was a first. rouna and i rented bikes in san francisco at the wharf. we were crying before we even hit the street corner, but we always cry when we laugh. maybe that's why everyone confuses us for each other. anyway after we passed the crowded populated streets with everyone looking up and out as out of towners often do, we were finally free sailing on the coast of paved cement. that is till a wave came and the paved cement started going uP and Up and UP. then we totally lost it and we were no longer the only ones laughing at ourselves. we went from yachts to hill top redwoods near the presidio to a couple tours of the park and back down to more yachts. we stared at bay view houses and picked out ones we thought could suit our needs. so easy to make believe. we saw the palace of fine art and i pretended to see it for the first time. we explored the exploritorium or at least the surrounding area, and moved up and onward. not sure what kept us moving, it wasn't the comfort of the seat that's for sure, but perhaps it was the possibility of a story. or the physical unrest to marry our mental analysis. or the accents in the "hello's" that came from everyone as we passed. whatever it was, it pushed us far enough where we couldn't look back. oh, Life you're so funny in your visual metaphors. so there we were, facing the direct assent to the elevated crux of barrier made manifest. and since God didn't part the sea for us that day, we took the high road and crossed the man-made hard as steal [is] Golden-misnomer-Gate Bridge. of course i had to notice the crisis counseling hotline phone, and wondered if God was on the other line-- Hello God? This is Lyndsay. busy signal. so we kept going. had to cross the freeway and nearly had a panic attack as i cursed like a sailor at the cars who were out to prove that their machines were faster than our legs, two tires, and a chain. i had to walk the bike down the three mile dissent into Sausalito, stupid fear of falling under cars and becoming like bug juice. Sausalito should change it's name to Charming, period. we missed the ferry, caught the next one that dropped us off at the wrong pier and speed raced down the streets to cross the finish line into the bike rental pit stop as they were locking up the doors and calling it a day. champions!
so it wasn't cyprus nor amsterdam, but it wasn't sacramento either. success.
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200 meters
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| american girl in italy |
[Monday, May 29, 10:20pm] |
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mood |
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 tired |
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music |
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bebel gilberto |
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Miss Tree,
a mover and a shaker; doing the two step better than the rest of us in counts of three. you are predictable in all your ways-- not in that bad sense that that phrase can be interpreted, but in that 'i never had any doubts in you' sense. you said, you did, you said, and you did again. that fine line of tip toe wire crossing, flame throwing, fire eating, ho-hum, drink some wine vino, and paint a pretty picture all on your own in the middle of the afternoon; is just how you've always been framed. without much detail here, ill just say that i'll miss your heart in california, but know that it is busy doing beautiful (every/ no)things in italy. and when you go to greece on holiday, i know a guy you can look up-
he taught me how to breath under water.
LOVEYOU
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meters
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| when did i get what i want become so honky tonk |
[Thursday, Mar 30, 8:12pm] |
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mood |
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 weird |
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music |
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rushmore soundtrack |
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remember in high school, when we pinky swore never to let each other be homeless, or maybe i just made you all pinky swear never to let me be homeless, well i have a full time job now. this in addition to my full time job as a senior in college. i now come equipped with business cards and benefits, stock options and 401k plans. i still don't make enough to live on my own, but i think all these grown up things must mean something, which makes me think i can house all of you if you are ever homeless. a house out of business cards.
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700 meters
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| lover you |
[Saturday, Mar 11, 12:54am] |
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mood |
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 sleepy |
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music |
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benny sings |
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i cant say that i can say that im not not happy.
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500 meters
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| you suppose so well! |
[Sunday, Oct 23, 11:46pm] |
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Sapphire91: i once had a dream about michel foucault and sea horses, no seriously.
Auto response from CutToCommercial: i >3 foucault.
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100 meters
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| drive thru |
[Wednesday, Oct 05, 9:42pm] |
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mood |
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 blank |
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music |
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sparklehorse |
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i went and done did it. did turn myself twenty one, all on my very own--
who does that- who turns twenty one? it seemed as if it was something that afflicts everyone else, but certainly.. certainly.. not i. but there i did find myself, going head to head with time. it, as it always does, won. and as i sit here, approaching almost a full month of being twenty one [in 7 days] i think, was it worth it? not as if i had much choice in the matter it was coming whether i liked it or not. three[+] times i havnt been carded and i say confusingly to myself, AM. I. ALREADY. AT. THAT. AGE. i feel like high school again. i dont mesh with this halter top streaked hair bar scene that kristen tried to introduce me to [no fault of her own], we only had the chanced blessing of avoiding three girls we went to high school with. makes me want a boyfriend back. curl up and hide out till it's all over with. grass is greener [and brighter and shinier and new] on the other side. i want my low-table-low-lighting-mixed-drinks-jazz-listening-dress-from-Nice-wearing nights. where are you?! oh right, i work too much. well i took three days off from work this week and where did it find me? in reno, at a chapel. at a few chapels actually. i turned twenty one and got myself hitched, proper and all. to my camera. to my work. can you handle it? can anyone? i'm going to show that love is love is love, whether elvis is there or not. whether your dress is rented or not. whether your ring turns your finger green or not. but will love find this girl that is pained with being twenty one and married to the three cameras mounted on her side? look for my personal ad in the next issue of reno news and review. here's to being twenty one, to loving the chase, and to hating* the prize.
*hating is to not be confused with wanting.
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400 meters
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| heidelberg brewed beards; and i know thank you in five languages |
[Wednesday, Aug 03, 9:44pm] |
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happy |
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music |
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sufjan stevens |
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look at me go. i am un stopstopstopstopstopstopstopable, here and abroad. by now you know i am home from my three week rendezvous in that great land of efficient public transportation [that is of course when it's not being bombed]. europe i say, your up!
nomadic split splat, i am Miss Ecstatic. "haha" i laugh so hard, i have no clue what you are saying to me, it's so... foreign? oh i love you! your words that sound like coughs keep me coming back for more, i've caught the bug that you've kept as your own for so long. mine now [minenow]. i laid in twenty one different beds, telling me twenty one new things, twenty one minutes a night, along side the other twenty one beds in the twenty one rooms i shared with twenty one other people. we kissed like mad men in sunday wear, keeping mad secrets from friends and family- hysterical in our fits of freedom. our little secret, our little secretss, this little hole in the wall, this little moment right here: the one where we cleverly figure out how to shave our legs in two feet of space, the one where we makeshift a clothes line and pretend the humidity isnt there, the one about how to get your hostel at an even cheaper price, the one about the italian concierges, and the german theologians. lets not forget about our secret cave and the secret castle to sleep in when price of sleep costs a pretty penny that we dont have [thank you food, water, tariffed toilets, and bus fare you taught us well] all our little secrets known and unbeknown to us, i cant share them out loud, does a deed unjustified when our foreign voices speak of foreign affairs and foreign policy. bush speaking californian/speaking worldly words. do you get it? i am jazzed. i am amsterdam, germany, switzerland, italy, monaco, and france. i am perpetually reliving my twentieth summer for as long as time allows, or until time repeats itself-- as it so often does, [give it time], history always repeats.
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meters
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| i miss miss tree |
[Saturday, May 07, 12:00am] |
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mood |
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crazy |
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music |
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uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh |
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i'm just going to say it. no clever figure me out lines, just plain and simple to the point. ready? here it is:
i have a plane ticket to amsterdam that leaves in mid june and won't take me back home till a long time after.
it's not this, 'oh im planning on going to europe' deal, it's:
i have a plane ticket, purchased, and time off work.
there's amsterdam, france, switzerland, italy and germany to see. staying in dirt cheap hostels, taking a box of power bars or something to the equivalent, and one bag [ok maybe two; across my shoulder] = both hands free to catch buses and hit off any suspecting gypsy children in rome.
we, miss beccanacious and i, are going to pack our bags one week in advance and take something out every day till go time. we are going to practice walking bags on back to and from raley's, per her fathers recommendation.
that's the plan, man.
true!true!true!true!
today i saw gabby's band play,
FAAAAAAAAAAANTASSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTIC.
p.s. i'm going to europe!!
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900 meters
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| would you be proud, mr. cocteau? |
[Wednesday, Mar 16, 10:01pm] |
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mood |
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 complacent |
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lyndsay we'll miss you, says the chocolate gourmet cake from the health food store. but we've replaced you with nicole richie, [so i see as i stare at twelve plus inches of bleach and a neck balancing two chandelier's- your ring's so pretty, it's fake you say (aah im surprised aaah)]. you served us so well for three whole years, from a teen of seven plus ten, to the teen-less tag of twenty-- read the card we wrote you, we hope now that you are down to one job youll finally have time to read 'atlas shrugged'.. oh stop it, you! your sentimental attitudes are not very becoming and there are sixteen mirrors too many around here to remind us of this. the horror!the horror!
as you can see, today was my last day at the salon where every tuesday thursday and every other saturday i devoted countless hours to the beautification of sacramento, one tinfoil hi-lite at a time, for three years.
one job down, one promotion [in promotions] up, school still beating me down [professor and otherwise].
i'll miss easy breezy beautiful 56th street, the phrase 'may i help you', and working two jobs with the schedule of three.
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500 meters
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