Monday, January 31, 2011

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Saturday, January 29, 2011

365/29


i mean talk about ambiance.

Friday, January 28, 2011

365/28

chipotle burritos had me at hola...


...but a sphere? that's fat.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

365/27

directement de quinn'; cuisine de s.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

365/26

i love it when the two-tone hand mixer randomly falls over and knocks the last of the coffee over onto my clothes and then directly down the drain. i may do this every morning.


also known as fuuuck.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Monday, January 24, 2011

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Friday, January 21, 2011

365/21


big letter, little letter

Thursday, January 20, 2011

365/20


and then you do the walk ... do the walk of life

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

365/18


it never left my finger. how did i do that?

Monday, January 17, 2011

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Friday, January 14, 2011

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

365/11k

christina taylor green

september 11, 2001 - january 8, 2011


she gave her life to preserve sarah palin's first amendment rights

Monday, January 10, 2011

365/10

touch, don't look

You don't even know. I don't like ice cream, and the rare times I indulge, I save myself for the premium stuff.

Earlier tonight, in the balmy 24ยบ and with no coat, I found myself walking into a Baskin Robbins to appease Debe, who becomes dangerous when she doesn't get her way, true story. The objective was completely lost on me, and I found myself distracted by the charming waffle bowls, encrusted with millions of sprinkles, the stuff of my organic childhood dreams. Soon I was touching the bowls on display, and decided I would in fact need to eat out of one.

How could you not?


I asked the staff person, who may have been 15 with as many facial piercings, if they had the sprinkle cups in stock.

"Yeah, these are what we have." O.o

Um. "You mean these, up here? Where people can touch them?"

"Wull um, I mean, I have never seen anyone touch them."

"I just touched all of them. I thought they were for display."

"Oh," she said, "well could you not? People eat those."

"No, you need to throw these away see?"

"Oh. Right. Did you know what you wanted?"

Yeah hand sanitizer, all the Hepatitis vaccines, a shower, and to blog this.

"I'd like one of the clowns in the super thick case please."

"I could get you a cone from the bottom that hasn't been touched."
(laksjdhfaspdhv!)

You mean these beauts?


The clown won by a mile. But I just bit the icing scallops off and threw it away.



31 flavours, 31 touchy-feely unnoticed gropers, 31 strains of germs.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

365/9




bak off my camelbak.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Friday, January 7, 2011

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Monday, January 3, 2011

Saturday, January 1, 2011

first day, last day

Earlier I received word that a spectacularly dear woman I met and befriended last year died this morning. Karen was possibly the most remarkable woman I've ever met, and her vibrancy has resonated with everyone who has ever encountered her. Karen was a mother of four loving, loyal, strong teenagers. Her husband Todd was killed in a car accident last year. Karen was young. Karen had cancer. So often inevitable things are those for which I am the least prepared. This hurts.

Twenty minutes after I learned of this and the ensuing texts began, my mom notified me that her old old old friend from Humboldt County, Califonia, had died of a massive stroke. She too was young, and she too leaves behind a teenage daughter. She had just been up to visit. She was by far the most easygoing person ever. I always liked her the best. She never cared how rambunctious we got, and she taught me that orange juice is also called "o.j." I felt like a superhero being the only three year old to know that. She was a school bus driver, which was extremely impressive, since school bus drivers, like school teachers, are meant to live only in their buses or classrooms, and knowing one in real life was definitely a feather in my four year old cap. Her name was Karin.

These women have left not only imprints on this place whereupon we dwell temporarily, but they've left holes.

Make an imprint.

okay okay, pic 1



Quinn got the earrings he wanted but they were impossible to get in. Reilly spent half an hour on the floor with her nimble fingers--and POP--good to go.