blue valentine

there was merunning fast heart was free...
that was the me before i met you
when one was not two
and we was a term i never used.
days turn to nights turn into one year
i told you my name and you told me your fears.
four walls, three bottles, and two stony hearts
blinds closed, candles on, keep out the dark.
a tv set, a coffee table, pillows on the floor
and an elephant in the bedroom that we try all night to ignore

i wont quit my day job

random photos from an even randomER life.

but its mine, and i like it.

 internationally shipping. thank you god.

 vintage 1970s tumblers found at a swap meet as a present to my FAB mother for mothers day.

 instead of a spice rack, think of it as a vice rack. way more fun.

my dream board by the bed that i sleep in.

i treasure this picture my 9 year old sister drew.

 just a TASTE of the inventory i have...and where i have it. there is a rolling rack in the bathroom, bedroom, and a purse shelf that could rival ANY vintage store in my bathroom as well. i think i need a storage unit. or a STORE.

 one of my favorite moments in my entire life with my sister from another mister.

 i wish i wasnt so A.D.D or i would lay here all of the time and count my blessings...

there is a boat in our front yard. lake splendor awaits! to tube or not to tube...?

pedestal epiphany

this is the thing, and if you REALLY take my advice, you will save yourself a LOT of heartache.

if someone tells you that you are giving them to much credit, they are NOT being MODEST. they are being HONEST.

NEVER put someone on a pedestal that hasnt EARNED it.

Just because you see a kernel of potential or a glimmer of integrity in a person it DOES NOT mean that they will EVER live up to HALF of your expectations.

most of the time, people are endlessly dissapointing. especially if: they are male or if they have a name starting with an S, or J. Especially J. And especially if they tell YOU that 'you are to good to be true."

also i have become a student of names. if you meet one bad egg with a certain name, most of the time all the other eggs with that same name are cracked or from the same carton. TRUST ME. avoid repeating names. avoid men with april birthdays. avoid men who eat snickers for breakfast. avoid men who question YOUR fashion sense. i could go on forever but....

and if you ever hear the phrase, "i have always wanted to meet someone like you. i have been describing you all my life...' or some shit like that. you have a con man on your hands girls. abandon ship. flee the scene.

RUN FOR YOUR LIFE LADIES.

the getaway car.

holy smokes

when i was in my earliest 20's i bought my first pack of ciggerates. it was a smoky twilight in la, and i was living in my studio apartment with my friend crystal. the door was open so the air outside in my courtyard style apartment complex could waft in, filling the space with the scent of mexican cooking and sounds of kids splashing around in the pool below. i was sitting in front of my typewriter, and third eye blind was singing songs about a semi charmed life from my cd player. in the middle of a poem and at the end of the song i thought okay this moment deserves a ciggerate. i had never been so certain about a purchase, even though i had no idea what to tell the clerk at 711 when he asked me what kind. i said something like camel special blend...because i had heard a guy friend of mine say that once before. my roomate and i practically RAN to her car, cranked the windows down, and rode the 3 blocks to our little shoebox apartment, taking drags and teaching ourselves how to inhale without coughing. of course stephen jenkins was playing on the ride. i felt so satisfied as i shoved the pack into my junk drawer. over the course of the next few months i never really reached for them again. im not sure where the need came from. im not sure why i felt so good buying something so bad for me. maybe it was the fact that i COULD buy them-i was living without anyone elses conditions at that moment. it was a choice i made to misbehave, to quietly rebel. still i keep the fact that i seek solace in ciggereates from most people in my family. its like the scarlet letter i bear secretly under my clothes...when i was going through a breakup last year i would sneak off into my car, crack the windows, and stare up at the smoggy night sky, forcing myself to inhale and exhale-it was the only thing i could do to take my mind off the heartbreak-to slow down and find refuge in my rebellion. its something i look forward to, not something that i need like those crazy people that you work with that take smoke breaks every few minutes to quiet their rage in dealing with the general public. for me, its taking a breath, looking around, flicking the ashes, holding something in my hand, making a choice to slow down, making a choice to be someone other than myself for just a few moments.

'you make me wanna smoke a ciggerate, you make me wanna be someone else...' graham colton band
'sit and watch my ciggerate smokin on itself, sit and watch my ciggerate smokin on itself'-dead weather
'early in the morning, rising to the street, light me up that ciggerate and i strap shoes on my feet' sublime

first swap meet!

i had great expectations for my very first booth at a 'swap meet' or the more...redneck?...term 'flea market.'

hmmm. i dont think the people of canton texas quite knew how to grasp the racks of vintage leopard print and sequined treasures hanging from the racks in my booth. the wind was insane-my racks blew over more than a couple of times. the sky threatened rain each day...luckily only a few sprinkles are all that i encountered. the weather was the least of my worries.

a funny little man with a few teeth missing tried to talk me down from 15 dollars for a DOPE vintage hat to 5 dollars. um, NO i paid 10 for it originally SIR. he came back the next day and bought it. he told me i looked interesting. how sweet...? i sold my favorite vintage fur cape to a fat woman who also griped about the BARGAIN price of 80 bucks she was getting it for. It looked better on me, i thought as i said NO WAY i adore this piece rosanne. It was 85 degrees and humid, so i took the cash and never looked back.

the number of able bodied people i saw trolling the aisles on motorized scooters chomping on turkey legs and slurping on large 4 dollar lemonades was enough to make me thank the lucky stars that i am a vegetarian who actually likes to use the two legs that god gave me. BUT i guess you never know until you try, and i am thankful that i have supportive family and friends to cheer me on-even though an outcome seems pretty abyssmal. Here are a couple of pictures from my adventure!

zoloft or zombieloft?

i feel like a part of me is missing.

that load upon my back and the thundercloud above my head are gone. its a really scary thing to realize that for most of my life i relied on my demons for so many different things. they filled my mind with ammunition-song lyrics and mad crazy collage art....stories and poems...

now that i have been on antidepressants for a month or so, i have noticed that the feelings that i DO feel, are lukewarm. im so used to being LOW or HIGH, that feeling so balanced also leaves me wondering if i am feeling numb. uninspired.

its a strange type of longing-missing the darkness that became second skin.
i know that a practical person would say well you are giving up demons for daisys and shadows for light, but i miss the drive-the NEED to get all of the words and thoughts out of me.

the jury is still out...can i still express myself artistically without the angsty girl ive always been? i hope so.

they say time heals all wounds

they say the only thing to fear is fear itself.
they say that when you arent looking, only then will you find it.
they say that it is better to love and lost than to never have loved at all.

excuse me but have THEY ever been a 20 something on the verge...?  to them, I say easier said than done. to them I say, if you are not looking then how will you know what you DO NOT want. And to them I say, I would rather have never loved than to have experienced a relationship/break-up like my last-what we dont know CANT hurt us, isnt that another thing THEY say? i suppose that they probably dont know anymore about anything than I do. I suppose that inventing adages and rules to live by made THEM feel like THEY were not so alone; that THEY were wiser than the rest of us. Here is a couple of adages I came up with as I began this post.

I say that the only thing to fear is regret. And squirrels. And the texture of tofu. And bad kissers. And bad hair days. Bad outfits. Shoes that give you blisters. Any song Avril Lavigne comes out with. People who do not need coffee. Small children at amusement parks/shopping malls/church/pizza buffets. People who eat at Golden Corral. People who wear Ed hardy. People/things who could break your heart/face/spirit/concentration.

i say that i have looked. have found it, then decided i didnt want it. i have also looked away when i should have kept focus. i have also looked before i leapt, and landed flat on my face. There is no right way to go about looking/not looking for what you want. Trial and error my friends.

and as far as love goes, i am leaning towards subscribing to these philosophies
love hurts.
to fear love is to fear life.
LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD.

keep fighting YOUR battles. not THEIRS. xo-kbrax