completely overwhelmed.
hospital food blows. I want chicken.
cheeeeeeesecake.
so happy the US took back the lead in medal count! 21 US, 20 China! We love you Michael Phelps!!!
"The one thing that is consistent in life is betrayal."
i wish, i wish, upon a star.
yarg.
too in love with humorous turns of phrase.
looking at a masters in forensic psychology.
amazingly happy.
the greatest.
contemplating the power of memory.
up north singing in the woods : ) Gotta love being a choir dork.
a great guy. Let's get together.
almost done working.
fucking living up what he earned.
in cali and unsure of what to do with her self.
misses Ray Bay.... as a sidenote Mary Sarah is also astonished that her child is in kindergarten and thus she feels old.
updating his MICHIP website!
letting everyone whos been in contact know that i havent and wont have time to reply until i get back to ohio in the 16th...:)
a frisky dingo.
grumpy.
counting down the days to head up north.
content.
in Davis and loving the Paul Taylor dance intensive!!! =) and realizing she moves in two weeks! crazy!!
playin' the numbers game to find a way to say that life has just begun.
glad Nicole is home.
soooooooo Lalala teehee!
I Love the Olympics!!!
everything happens for a reason!!
just learned that birds can explode from gas build up...
pondering love.
wondering about her life's purpose. Is it to nap?
fucking excited about the new studio!
officially a student at Eastern!!!!!!!!!!!!
back swimming ^_^.
feeling sick ! ut ohhh.
overwhelmed by how present God was at Pine HIills. Praise the Lord!
chillin.
...
needing a change!
saying goodbye Black Moses :(.
counts down to her move: 9 days!
going to band camp!
remembering why she will never live in Monroe.
wants Chelsey to upload pictures!
painting her toes aqua.
livin' the dream.
back in Michigan and missing Tennessee!
.
live through this.
hanging out with Brandon today.
gone into food coma.
knows who wins.
annoyed.
happy Nikki's Kidney is working :)
"me, i'm a scene. I'm a dramaqueen...i'm the best damn thing your eyes have ever seen!"
going to Cedar Point - along with her whole family on the Donnelly side.
content.'
playing a show at West Park in Ann Arbor on Wednesday. There's a potluck at 4, and the show starts at 6; with the Versificators.
watchin Menace II Society - THE ORIGINAL!
tryin to do gymnastics off the couch & jumpin off of Ricky..its fun!
boxing the stars.
leaving on a jet plane...or in a car? You will find out someday :)
sitting with kelsey and jeremy.
très très malade.. =(.
(not really) wondering what he's to do with 10 pounds of leftover burgers and brats .
now the one doing the continuous smiling.
going to play the game and get it cheaper!!
sayn"I KNEW I WAS GONE SEE U AGAIN" R.I.P. 2 THE BIG MAC MR. BERNIE MOTHA FUCKIN MAC. IN HEAVEN MAINE GIVIN EM SOME "TROUBLE TROUBLE" KEEP US LAUGHN POWER965.
fuckin WORK.
home and had best be seeing you before you leave forever. Yeah, you, that Babe that's moving to St. Louis. Or any one of you Babes moving to Seattle.
waiting patiently for the Cruise.
calming down to some early Cabaret Voltaire.
having an amazing summer! WOAHHH!!!!
still in awe.
making lattes and happiness.
soo excited for cones...the vehicle for ice cream!!!!
chillin.
officially unpacked. now to start packing...
sore and has no voice but got to stare at and work with Drew B, Ellen Paige, Juliette Lewis, Jimmy Fallon and Eve all day. Plus very cute roller derby girls.
ready to rock and roll.
in Maine- it smells funny.
down and out....
going to the Willow Run Air Show. Anyone want to come? Grillin on the side of the road while drinking beer as we watch kick ass planes all day. Sat. & Sun.
so glad it's friday!
bored.
enjoying life.
workin' on dat der power drill. hm hm. Yes sir.
stressed out...
gonna scrapbook all weekend!!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
The Boy Who Cried Communism
He gave a little cough
Is this what I sound like?
cough
Look I'm not entirely sure what nature ever did for me but I've been told a lot of stuff
that we're supposed to do for each other and for others and pretty much the whole world
is suppose to
first base each other willingly of course into oblivion of course otherwise
the world isn't flattening
and that's the global economy you see - makeouts, and sneaking hands down each other's shirts
just so damn curious.
Dammit, McCarthy! You got us again!
Hahahahahahahahahahaha!
And how are we supposed to believe when you are we supposed
how are we supposed to and how are we supposed...
Hoohoohoohoohoohoo!
That's truly amazing.
I was just watching the movie, and then I was first-base freedomed
rocket-shipped to somebody's lunar basement. god the stars are no closer out here.
if you're THAT bored
we can just make out
the red, white and blue
that cuts my teresticle landscape against the universe.
He winked.
Let's save my planet, baby.
Is this what I sound like?
cough
Look I'm not entirely sure what nature ever did for me but I've been told a lot of stuff
that we're supposed to do for each other and for others and pretty much the whole world
is suppose to
first base each other willingly of course into oblivion of course otherwise
the world isn't flattening
and that's the global economy you see - makeouts, and sneaking hands down each other's shirts
just so damn curious.
Dammit, McCarthy! You got us again!
Hahahahahahahahahahaha!
And how are we supposed to believe when you are we supposed
how are we supposed to and how are we supposed...
Hoohoohoohoohoohoo!
That's truly amazing.
I was just watching the movie, and then I was first-base freedomed
rocket-shipped to somebody's lunar basement. god the stars are no closer out here.
if you're THAT bored
we can just make out
the red, white and blue
that cuts my teresticle landscape against the universe.
He winked.
Let's save my planet, baby.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Blowhard (or The Ventriculatory MassWhale)
I thought something felt a little funny yesterday. It was hard to pin it down due to my recent acquirement of full-throttle absent-mindedteenism (not a word), or my decision that cigarettes were last years news. Turns out it wasn't anything to do with me - things were just a little funny.
After finding out that one of my best friends from high school now lives down the street from me, I had a stigmata over my kitchen sink. Whether or not this was due to my finding out he lives down the street from me remains unclear. The particular stigmata I had was the one where Jesus readjusts his crown of thorns on his head, and consequently pricks six out of ten of his fingers. Six out of ten of my fingers (about 6/10 of them, or 3/5 if you use the metric system) started gushing blood, for no reason in particular - besides the stigmata of course. Only one of them was really split open, so I wiped up the other cuts, and put band aid over the seriously stigamatad one. The Little Finger That Could bled through that band aid, another one, and yet another one, before I was able to leave the house to go to work. Oh, the valiant bleeding. Keep on bleeding little buddy! You're so brave!
As I exited my house stage right, and approached my four-wheeled steel horse of valor and consequence, I noticed a strange pile of garbage abutting the entrance to my carriage of guilt and glory. "Bizarro." I thought, "though this is Ypsi. Naymind, not bizarro." But I as I neared the pile of garbage, I started getting the eerie feeling that the garbage was familiar. In fact, it kind of looked like...no, not..."could it...is it MY garbage? But of course it is! I can recognize my garbage from anywhere! Heavens, this garbage is the garbage that used to live inside my car!"
-1 bottle of mostly empty Victoria Secret lotion, left-over from my sister's habitation of said automobile.
-10 batteries, their life-death status unknown.
-2 bags half-eaten snacks from recent road trip to Tennessee.
-5,000 receipts, memorializing the purchase of cigarette packages (lo, the days of yore!)
Now, why would anyone ever want to go into my sapphire-encrusted transportation mechanism of serendipity and shyness, pull out handfuls of garbage, and leave them there?
At this point, I started to use my head, instead of my heart. I came to this conclusion:
Someone had gone treasure-diving in my car!
But really, the joke is on them. The mostly empty bottle of Victoria's Secret lotion and 2 bags of half-eaten snacks were really the best things in there. For no reason in particular, I had taken my iPod out of my car the night before, leaving the only other valuable, but pretty much useless, item in there, which is my cd-to-tape adapter. They took the adapter. Good for them. I would hate for them to leave empty handed - what kind of hospitality is that?
I mean, really. I hope they don't go smearing my reputation around Ypsi by telling everyone what a gross, useless quadped roar-box I have, or how I truly own nothing that costs more than $10.47.
The tale ends with me cleaning up the garbage with my blood-stained fingers, and quietly exiting the city. A weird spell, a tepid air, and a morose ghost fell upon Ypsi yesterday. Let us exercise the demon and let the city sleep at last.
After finding out that one of my best friends from high school now lives down the street from me, I had a stigmata over my kitchen sink. Whether or not this was due to my finding out he lives down the street from me remains unclear. The particular stigmata I had was the one where Jesus readjusts his crown of thorns on his head, and consequently pricks six out of ten of his fingers. Six out of ten of my fingers (about 6/10 of them, or 3/5 if you use the metric system) started gushing blood, for no reason in particular - besides the stigmata of course. Only one of them was really split open, so I wiped up the other cuts, and put band aid over the seriously stigamatad one. The Little Finger That Could bled through that band aid, another one, and yet another one, before I was able to leave the house to go to work. Oh, the valiant bleeding. Keep on bleeding little buddy! You're so brave!
As I exited my house stage right, and approached my four-wheeled steel horse of valor and consequence, I noticed a strange pile of garbage abutting the entrance to my carriage of guilt and glory. "Bizarro." I thought, "though this is Ypsi. Naymind, not bizarro." But I as I neared the pile of garbage, I started getting the eerie feeling that the garbage was familiar. In fact, it kind of looked like...no, not..."could it...is it MY garbage? But of course it is! I can recognize my garbage from anywhere! Heavens, this garbage is the garbage that used to live inside my car!"
-1 bottle of mostly empty Victoria Secret lotion, left-over from my sister's habitation of said automobile.
-10 batteries, their life-death status unknown.
-2 bags half-eaten snacks from recent road trip to Tennessee.
-5,000 receipts, memorializing the purchase of cigarette packages (lo, the days of yore!)
Now, why would anyone ever want to go into my sapphire-encrusted transportation mechanism of serendipity and shyness, pull out handfuls of garbage, and leave them there?
At this point, I started to use my head, instead of my heart. I came to this conclusion:
Someone had gone treasure-diving in my car!
But really, the joke is on them. The mostly empty bottle of Victoria's Secret lotion and 2 bags of half-eaten snacks were really the best things in there. For no reason in particular, I had taken my iPod out of my car the night before, leaving the only other valuable, but pretty much useless, item in there, which is my cd-to-tape adapter. They took the adapter. Good for them. I would hate for them to leave empty handed - what kind of hospitality is that?
I mean, really. I hope they don't go smearing my reputation around Ypsi by telling everyone what a gross, useless quadped roar-box I have, or how I truly own nothing that costs more than $10.47.
The tale ends with me cleaning up the garbage with my blood-stained fingers, and quietly exiting the city. A weird spell, a tepid air, and a morose ghost fell upon Ypsi yesterday. Let us exercise the demon and let the city sleep at last.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Finally, a movie that accurately represents an entire species.
I had an idea for a short story yesterday, but as I worked it out in my head, I realized it wouldn't be anything more than a romantic comedy. Heavens! We don't need more of those! So I decided to do what everyone in Hollywood does when they are entirely out of good ideas: Make it about Penguins!
Here's the voice-over from the trailer:
She's a girl, who's making her way in the Big City.
He's a down-home boy from the South Pole.
Her writing career has finally taken off.
He's finally met her.
The only problem is...
"See, I can't write unless my heart is broken."
"So that's why you're always waddling around dejectedly!"
"It's not emotional - it's just my work."
"Damn girl! You need to find a line between work and play!" (Hearty laughter)
She's addicted to having her heart broken.
He's addicted to her.
"I've never seen flippers move that way before."
Will this salt water lover risk her job for the one guy who could make her happy for the rest of her life?
"I mean, he's no Emperor Penguin." (Hearty Laughter) "But there's something in his plumage."
Or will she trick him into breaking her heart for the sake of a story...just like all the other guys?
The critics are saying
"Finally, a movie about real penguins."
"A hilarious, toboggoning romp!"
The only mature comedy with full-frontal penguin nudity, and all the laughs that will get you Puffin!
This summer, see the movie that dares to ask the ultimate question - What Will a Penguin Do For Love?
This summer, don't miss out on the writer's block:
The Pen is Mightier Than the Guin
Sooooo...what do you guys think? Besides, of course how retarded the critics who previewed the movie are. A tobogonning romp? What were they thinking?
But I think it's a winner, and I'm pitching it to Aaron Harburg in the morning.
Here's the voice-over from the trailer:
She's a girl, who's making her way in the Big City.
He's a down-home boy from the South Pole.
Her writing career has finally taken off.
He's finally met her.
The only problem is...
"See, I can't write unless my heart is broken."
"So that's why you're always waddling around dejectedly!"
"It's not emotional - it's just my work."
"Damn girl! You need to find a line between work and play!" (Hearty laughter)
She's addicted to having her heart broken.
He's addicted to her.
"I've never seen flippers move that way before."
Will this salt water lover risk her job for the one guy who could make her happy for the rest of her life?
"I mean, he's no Emperor Penguin." (Hearty Laughter) "But there's something in his plumage."
Or will she trick him into breaking her heart for the sake of a story...just like all the other guys?
The critics are saying
"Finally, a movie about real penguins."
"A hilarious, toboggoning romp!"
The only mature comedy with full-frontal penguin nudity, and all the laughs that will get you Puffin!
This summer, see the movie that dares to ask the ultimate question - What Will a Penguin Do For Love?
This summer, don't miss out on the writer's block:
The Pen is Mightier Than the Guin
Sooooo...what do you guys think? Besides, of course how retarded the critics who previewed the movie are. A tobogonning romp? What were they thinking?
But I think it's a winner, and I'm pitching it to Aaron Harburg in the morning.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Be Inspired by Life's Tender Succulence
I've always hated the adorable posters people have hanging up, shamefully, in weird parts of their house, that are titled "Life's Little Instructions" or "Lessons I've Learned" or "Things I Know Now Because I'm So Damn Old but You're Still a Teenager, So Listen Up, Screwhead." These, sadly, usually permeate society and become cutesy adages, and, consequently, infallible wisdom.
So, to be proactive about my loathing, I decided to make my own.
Life's Little Instructions
So, to be proactive about my loathing, I decided to make my own.
Life's Little Instructions
Go into the priesthood. Wear socks. Become a man. Don't be overly frightened of bats. Stop to creepily stare at the roses. Wash your dishes immediately after use, otherwise they get crusty and a lot harder to wash. Don't hold it in - just go to the bathroom, and always take into consideration the germs you're encountering by giving them names. Wink at old men, then call them creepy behind their backs. If you don't have a coping mechanism, make one up! The internet is all around us, so be careful where you fart. Remember the ducks, for when you get older, they will haunt you in the night. Dance like no one knows you're a quadriplegic. Wash behind your ears out of duty, never out of desire. Children are inherently creepy, and that's why they always put them in horror movies.
But above all else - wear clothes that are memorable, otherwise you might forget and think you're naked.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Jack and Coke, and feeling Bloggy!
I've started viewing my life in haikus. Haikus in the good way - not in the way that annoying, prescriptivist weirdos who find enjoyment in useless restriction like them. (Given that description, I'm not sure anyone fits that build.) (Hooray for talking in parentheses!) ((Double parentheses denote a secret))
So yeah, haikus. Viewing my life in captured moments. They generally turn out to be paragraphical moments, instead of silly 5-7-5 lines that don't make sense in any particular way.
I realized that most rap songs nowsadays are haikus. Take, for example, "Get Low" by Flo-rida. The song, or at least the chorus ,which is all that my ineptitude is able to decipher, deals entirely with him seeing a girl in a club, and what that's like. He sees a girl, apple-bottom jeans, furry boats, and she's smacking her butt. He describes what he's wearing, and that's about it. Lame? I think not. He's describing a poignant moment in his life. It's easy to doubt the sincerity (since we generally connect sincerity with morality) in the song (though maybe he REALLY likes furry boots!),...but the point is the capturing of the moment, got it?
When I look back at my life, I generally see it in Polaroid snapshots, and moments that I treasure in my life. I work in moments. Anything longer than that indefinable space of time I can't handle for meaning. Ten minutes in time holds no meaning. All I can seem to capture is the beauty in that moment, and what the insertion of myself into that moment creates.
At this point, I would normally make a silly Top 10 list of my favorite moments, which would be an entirely farcical, and a potentially clever exploration....but I don't feel like it. Moments are too sacred, and I wouldn't dream of sharing the ones that actually mattered to me on the internet - The Whore of Information. Moments are sacred pieces of fleshy-life, encapsulated in a block of ice, that we're trying to find a freezer big enough to keep it in. Once the ice melts off, all you have left is quickly perishable flesh that holds no beauty.
Metaphors aside, I'm tired and going to bed. Tell me your thoughts on the matter, haikus, and how nice my butt is. I think your's is pretty awesome.
So yeah, haikus. Viewing my life in captured moments. They generally turn out to be paragraphical moments, instead of silly 5-7-5 lines that don't make sense in any particular way.
I realized that most rap songs nowsadays are haikus. Take, for example, "Get Low" by Flo-rida. The song, or at least the chorus ,which is all that my ineptitude is able to decipher, deals entirely with him seeing a girl in a club, and what that's like. He sees a girl, apple-bottom jeans, furry boats, and she's smacking her butt. He describes what he's wearing, and that's about it. Lame? I think not. He's describing a poignant moment in his life. It's easy to doubt the sincerity (since we generally connect sincerity with morality) in the song (though maybe he REALLY likes furry boots!),...but the point is the capturing of the moment, got it?
When I look back at my life, I generally see it in Polaroid snapshots, and moments that I treasure in my life. I work in moments. Anything longer than that indefinable space of time I can't handle for meaning. Ten minutes in time holds no meaning. All I can seem to capture is the beauty in that moment, and what the insertion of myself into that moment creates.
At this point, I would normally make a silly Top 10 list of my favorite moments, which would be an entirely farcical, and a potentially clever exploration....but I don't feel like it. Moments are too sacred, and I wouldn't dream of sharing the ones that actually mattered to me on the internet - The Whore of Information. Moments are sacred pieces of fleshy-life, encapsulated in a block of ice, that we're trying to find a freezer big enough to keep it in. Once the ice melts off, all you have left is quickly perishable flesh that holds no beauty.
Metaphors aside, I'm tired and going to bed. Tell me your thoughts on the matter, haikus, and how nice my butt is. I think your's is pretty awesome.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
I Love Me
I just ate the most friggin delicious coffeecake in the whole world. How does a cake that good even exist?
Well I guess it doesn't anymore. All gone. So sad.
I didn't get much sleep last night, at least not enough to work an 8-hour shift today. But before you go sob for my sorry-little-tired-hiney (Yellow Polka Dot Bikini!), let's look at the facts:
HAND-SLAMMING FACT: I had four hours of sleep last night.
TRUTH: My job at the coffee shop currently consists of sitting around, and stalking people on Facebook for 8 hours, ooh and drinking lots of tea.
HAM-SLAMMING TRUTHFACT: This isn't so bad!
Except I'm not sure I know what's real anymore. These two people are here right now, and I think I accidentally forced the guy to pay for both of them, though I'm pretty certain that they meant to pay separate. Ha, now they're on a date. And keep looking at me awkwardly, like I'm some creepy, dilapidated vulture...not so far from the truth!
GLISTENING HAM TRUTH: I am a vulture.
I'm so depressed that coffeecake is gone!
Alright, I'll just make a Top 10 list and get out of here.
THERESA'S TOP 10 FAVORITE FINGERS:
10. Left-Hand pinky
9. Left-hand pointer
8. Right-hand ring-finger
7. Right-hand pinky
6. Left-hand middle finger
5. Right-hand thumb
4. Left-hand thumb
3. Left-hand ring finger
2. Right-hand middle finger
1. Right-hand pointer
CONGRATULATIONS RIGHT-HAND POINTER! You've done your accusatory work so well over the past 20 years, that you came in at Number One! Keep up the good work, Pointer!
For all my fingers that didn't make the Top Ten List this year, keep trying! If you can dream it, you can do it!
Well I guess it doesn't anymore. All gone. So sad.
I didn't get much sleep last night, at least not enough to work an 8-hour shift today. But before you go sob for my sorry-little-tired-hiney (Yellow Polka Dot Bikini!), let's look at the facts:
HAND-SLAMMING FACT: I had four hours of sleep last night.
TRUTH: My job at the coffee shop currently consists of sitting around, and stalking people on Facebook for 8 hours, ooh and drinking lots of tea.
HAM-SLAMMING TRUTHFACT: This isn't so bad!
Except I'm not sure I know what's real anymore. These two people are here right now, and I think I accidentally forced the guy to pay for both of them, though I'm pretty certain that they meant to pay separate. Ha, now they're on a date. And keep looking at me awkwardly, like I'm some creepy, dilapidated vulture...not so far from the truth!
GLISTENING HAM TRUTH: I am a vulture.
I'm so depressed that coffeecake is gone!
Alright, I'll just make a Top 10 list and get out of here.
THERESA'S TOP 10 FAVORITE FINGERS:
10. Left-Hand pinky
9. Left-hand pointer
8. Right-hand ring-finger
7. Right-hand pinky
6. Left-hand middle finger
5. Right-hand thumb
4. Left-hand thumb
3. Left-hand ring finger
2. Right-hand middle finger
1. Right-hand pointer
CONGRATULATIONS RIGHT-HAND POINTER! You've done your accusatory work so well over the past 20 years, that you came in at Number One! Keep up the good work, Pointer!
For all my fingers that didn't make the Top Ten List this year, keep trying! If you can dream it, you can do it!
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