small things.

Oct 18

caragh:

I couldn’t believe it when I ran into myself at the Gala Event Party and was wearing the same set of peace-sign glasses! It’s a ladies’ worst nightmare! That bitch knew I was planning on making an entrance in these.
(I went to the arcade today with Jess. We hit the jackpot at two different games at the exact same time. I also have 6 Chinese Finger traps. That’s a metaphor, because we all have 6 Chinese Finger Traps, don’t we? These little metaphorical cylinders of “bamboo”, holding small but necessary parts of us hostage. Biology class? Chinese Finger Trap for my Sunday-Fundays. My puppy? Chinese Finger Trap for my checking account. Living life in general? Chinese Finger Trap for my happiness.
Anyway, it’s a metaphor, but also it’s just real talk. Because I do have 6 physical Chinese Finger Traps now.)

I couldn’t believe it when I ran into myself at the Gala Event Party and was wearing the same set of peace-sign glasses! It’s a ladies’ worst nightmare! That bitch knew I was planning on making an entrance in these.

(I went to the arcade today with Jess. We hit the jackpot at two different games at the exact same time. I also have 6 Chinese Finger traps. That’s a metaphor, because we all have 6 Chinese Finger Traps, don’t we? These little metaphorical cylinders of “bamboo”, holding small but necessary parts of us hostage. Biology class? Chinese Finger Trap for my Sunday-Fundays. My puppy? Chinese Finger Trap for my checking account. Living life in general? Chinese Finger Trap for my happiness.

Anyway, it’s a metaphor, but also it’s just real talk. Because I do have 6 physical Chinese Finger Traps now.)

Oct 17

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

sexmusic:

all of my love // led zeppelin

scout:asleepyhead:(via spot-on)

Oct 16

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

sexmusic:

trouble // coldplay

(notso)

Oct 15

mliaverage:

Today in history class, my teacher asked us what we thought was the biggest disaster in american history. The kid a few seats down from me screamed out “Hannah Montana”. My teacher high fived him. MLIA.

Oct 10

Oct 9

caragh:

“That’s all I have. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have anything in the car, either.” I am weirdly not nervous. I am balls to the wall high, a cop with glasses is staring at my face, and I am not nervous. This is a big feat for me. Everything makes me nervous. Buying avocados makes me nervous because I spent $2.50 on one once and then I cut it way before it was ripe and that’s A LOT of money for one fucking piece of produce, you guys.

“THIS CAR REEKS!?” He sounds more confused than angry. But also definitely angry.

He makes us get out and he asks me to open my purse. He takes out my bottle of No-Doz. “Is that No-Doz.”
“Yeah, it’s No-Doz.”
“Why do you have No-Doz?”
“Uh, haha, college student.” I have a huge grin on my face that I can’t take off and I can’t tell if it’s nerves or because I know there’s really nothin’ he can do to me, except a $100 fine.
“I thought you kids took Adderal.” He is now giving a weird grin. Omg. Kindness has melted his frozen, cop heart. He is joking with me. Except, yes, I do have a Ritalin pill in my dresser at home.
“Ehhhhh, some of us take No Doz.” I am laughing and making a what-can-ya-do? face

He searches Dan’s car for awhile and finds the blunt innards. He asks Dan, “What do you GUT THE BLUNT for? To SMOKE THE WEED?” Dan replied yes. The cops continues searching, and finds Dan’s fucking hunting knife which he uses, yes, for hunting.

“What the fuck is this?”
“Oh, it’s just a hunting knife. I’m sorry, I forgot. I just use it to hunt white-tailed deer.”
“Do you have a hunting license?”
“Not yet.”

Dan is literally babbling, getting himself into deeper, deeper trouble. Finally the cop interupts him, “GET OUTTA HERE.”

Dan: “No, really I swear…”

“No, I mean get out of here. Both of you.”

And that’s the story of good cop/bad cop/one cop. He’s my favorite cop I’ve ever met and I got his game, you know? Like, I see where he’s coming from. And he was cool with me being super-high and talking to him. Maybe it was my monsters purse. I’ve long said this purse sort of makes me feel like a douche bag (because I feel like it’s a purse someone with no personality would have, just to SEEM like they have a personality), but I also wholly support how fucking awesome it is, and apparently (maybe) it allows cops and Caragh to get along for the first time since I attended DARE camp in 1998.

<3 u, 2 cop/1 guy. <3 u 4-eva.

“… my brain is so cluttered with strange and conflicting ideas about what a blog should and shouldn’t be and what I’m trying to do, in general, with this kind of writing — because, I do think that blog-writing is a different kind of writing than edited printed-matter writing– that I’m having trouble figuring out what I even want to say. I keep doubling back and second-guessing and tweaking my word choices and my grammar in even the most basic (i.e., m-dash-free) of sentences. I’m rereading everything to see how it looks through the eyes of some half-imagined critic — a critic who, no matter what I do or say, will always think that I got here, wherever he supposes that to be, by dint of something other than hard work and skill. There is no pleasing this critic, I know. Also, he is (half) imaginary. But I can’t get him out of my head.” “Truths to be self-edited”, Emily Magazine

Oct 8

Pam: What are you doing?
Jim: I just… couldn’t wait.

(via soulatoms:lovegeneration)