get a clue

beautiful girls want to be told they are smart. smart girls want to hear that they're beautiful. and those that are both want you to hear that they're unique.

absolutely fantabulous

like the british pussycat dolls
only trashier

girls aloud

deterioration of the fight or flight response

Meredith: Human beings need a lot of things to feel alive.
George: Family...
Cristina: Love...
Izzie: Sex.
Derek: But we only need one thing...
Webber: To actually be alive.
Cristina: We need a beating heart.
Addison: When our heart is threatened...
Alex: We respond in one of two ways.
George: We either run or...
Izzie: We attack.
Webber: There's a scientific term for this:
Alex: Fight...
Addison: Or flight.
Bailey: It's instinct...
Meredith: We can't control it.
Izzie: Or can we?

my grandmother made biscuits. there was a barrel in the corner of the kitchen full of flour, and the tin we'd always use, because i was the biscuit helper. we'd flour the entire table and she'd roll out the dough for me to cut using an empty tin. i had a stool that i would stand on so i was tall enough. and she'd praise me and take the cut circles and put them in pans and file them into the oven that was older than three of me put together. and then everyone would come and eat all squashed into the tiny warm kitchen but happy or sometimes we'd go out to the front porch. full of broken boards and kitties and love. dust would circle around the chickens. she loved them and they followed her around like little children. my mom remembers a rooster that used to chase her on her way to and from the outhouse when she was a kid. today i want biscuits and i wish i had known her more before she died. i wish i had noticed the time, instead of running around and wasting it in the selfishness of childhood. just like my mother, she was a very good woman.

sanctuary

Blanket
Artist(Band):Imogen Heap

Music is my sanctuary
Music is my blanket

Emotionless this city lies
Cruel it is, it clouds my eyes
The dark, the dark
Shades on my day
I live inside this place

Locked up inside my metal cage
Always tense and filled with rage
Above the concrete fields below
With you I wanna go, wanna go

Music is my sanctuary
Music is my blanket

I see only what I wanna see
I'll be only what I wanna be
yeah-ah
My blanket covers me, yes

well

that was interesting

Feel Good Inc

Dont stop, get it, get it
We are your captains in it
Steady,
Watch me navigate,
Ahahahahahhaa.

i heart ny

There is the kind of alone that is empowering. New York. The rush of people carrying you on its current, while you grab the door of an occasional shop to thrust in your head and gulp air. The kind of alone where you are swallowed by people above you behind you under you beside you but you are standing still, alone, protected and only an observer of the colors and sounds and whoosh of life around you.

deja vu

everyone around me is
the same
even though everyone around me is
different

thoughts

i remember your long, black woolen coat. the way it swirled around your legs and parted just slightly when you would lean your hand down to me. your dark eyes fringed with lashes and the smile, that curl of a grin that was so mysterious, that curl of black hair that would fall on your forward amid the slightly controlled waves. the glint that said you are everything and there is nothing but this. the smell of ocean on your neck, the way you couldn't take your eyes off of mine for a moment, not a moment, not a second would you break my gaze. the way we would walk past crowds of people eating, hand in hand, and they would stop and stare at us long after we would pass. how the women would point, the men nod, everyone saw us and thought we were the most "beautiful couple" "gorgeous" "amazing eyes" the attention that didn't even matter. how we kissed for 8 hours straight in the knickerbocker tangled in the sheets and how you laid your hand on my heart and felt me breathing, beating, long after you thought i was asleep. i remember what i wanted you to be and what i wanted to believe.

people do what they need to do
i have no regrets

but i still think of you.

somewhere between wash ave

and atwood i realized that i must look insane walking in the pouring cold rain at 9 o'clock at night. my common sense is defective so things like umbrellas don't occur to me when i leave the house. and so i started laughing like a crazy person for a few minutes before i smiled and said hell- might as well enjoy it and i did.