Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Bam Wait

What's been going on here?

Well somebody finally noticed my brooding scientist walk. They said that I had a joyful walk, which is probably code for you walk like a damn fruit cake, but I was still flattered.

Red Rain. This is the closest I'll ever get to a sexy song. I can only hope I play tennis the way this sounds. Like Bam da da da da Bam. A little pause and then Bam.

Oh Mississippi. I feel like Mississippi sometimes.

THE MURDER OF TWO MEN BY A YOUNG KID WEARING LEMON-COLORED GLOVES. Yes I am yelling at you. But I was nice. I didn't italicize.

G6. Hi my name is Hannah Jane and I have a problem. I am addicted to G6 even though I have no idea what the hell that means.

Royal T. Who doesn't love Róisín Murphy? And this song has the most fantastic noises. At times I feel like I'm underwater.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Olaf Hajek

While reading The New Secret Language of Symbols I stumbled across Olaf Hajek.

I will never be the same.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

here you go momalu

Friday, December 10, 2010

It's Official

Robert has finished his MBA.

Congratulations lover man : )

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

on the other side of my eyes

I had 2 odd dreams last night.

The first involved carmex. Did you know I love carmex? Well I do. Last night, and this was very realistic, I was attempting to put on some carmex and when I touched my lips they were sausages, links not patties, and I just didn’t have enough carmex to cover 2 giant links so I begin to cry and wail that I did not have enough carmex. And no one heard me.

After a little research I discovered that it is not a smart idea to google dreams about sausages, but I also learned that there might be a little penis envy going on. Which is understandable. I used to be a man you know, in another life. A gay one with fruit boobies no doubt, but I think maybe I was crying out for that man.

Another possible interpretation is that my lips were really chapped.

After this dream I guess I took a break, because I remember a particular blank grey, that prompted snow and ashes and dying birds on my windshield.

But that didn’t last of course. Suddenly I was at the top of the stairs leading to the basement and I was picking up clothes I had thrown down the stairs (they hadn’t made it very far), and out of the ceiling popped a black spider. Screaming, I half fell down the stairs. Josh and his current girlfriend came out his room, and to my horror I had somehow lost my shirt in the tumble and was coughing like a maniac. Thankfully I was wearing a granny bra that covered everything, but while Josh went to get the spider his current girlfriend just stood there awkwardly with me and didn’t say anything. Nobody laughed, which would have made the situation so much better. I finally coughed myself awake, and as I flipped over in bed it was quite apparent that I had somehow really lost my shirt while sleeping.

I didn’t even try to interpret that. I just know that I was horrified, and that I felt tackled by my fears.

It should be noted that I have been tipping back the Nyquil, and that I’m an extremely sensitive person. One swig of that and I’m waking up to chase purple unicorns down the hall (which is probably how I lost my shirt last night). I also haven’t been dreaming in paint lately, which is lonely and sterile. I miss the sloppy ranunculus buds and fat drops of unfinished sky.

Monday, December 6, 2010


I am still under the weather, but feeling better.

Today I managed to get out of bed and listen to some music. I think I'll take my ipod back to bed with me.

The latest from my itunes:

Emile Pandolfi

Ravi Shankar

And The Frames...

Saturday, December 4, 2010

:( / :)

I am sick again. Just so everyone knows.

I don't think it's a bad bug, but I don't want to jinx myself.

On a positive note, I did have a pretty awesome birthday. Thank you for the calls. I just happened to be working, but on break I listened to them all. After work Robert surprised me with roses and took me out. I crashed at about 8 though due to the sore throat.

And then today, after work, as I opened the door, there stood Robert and the girls. They took an 8 mile walk (we googled it) to greet me after work. Crazy fools. Here I had bundled up just to walk 50 feet to my car, and there is Robert in a sweatshirt, walking 8 miles on a cold windy day with my dogs (those poor souls).

So there is a lot to be happy about.