20 December 2011


1. my gingerbread house.
2. mother-daughter love.
3. energy vs. sleep.
4. kate's gingerbread house in the making.
5. dance party.
6. jeff's gingerbread house.
7. maddy refusing to be serious during christmas card pictures.
8. paint by number, fantastic mr. fox, facer xmas card, candy & a best friend.
9. sammy's gingerbread house (complete with a graham cracker freeway and sour patch cars).
10. the christmas card.
11. jacob's "gingerbread" house.
12. christmas tree shopping.
13. alex's fallen temple gingerbread house.
14. a flocked tree.
15. the "coke room" (aka crushed candy canes) in sam's house.
16. maddy looking pretty.

11 songs in honor of 11 days left of 2011.

gotye feat. kimbra

the shins

washed out

avalanche city

the middle east

foster the people
electric light orchestra
radical face
bombay bicycle club
danny elfman

for your daily dose of laughter:

i have a project for anyone out there who has 2 minutes and likes to smile.

materials needed:
1) at least 1 silly band (s.b. for short)
2) pen
3) paper
4) glue (optional)

for this very complicated craft, you take your s.b. (whatever it may be) and glue it onto your piece of paper (if you're having a glue shortage, just place it on the paper).
next, you take your pen, and incorporate the s.b. into a scene.
whether it be a santa s.b. and you draw a chimney and reindeer around him, or just a bathing suit s.b. which you draw a body around (see fig. 22), is up to you.
FULL credit to ali mccollum for this little project. 

figure 22:

i hope you giggled a little. i know i did.

settle down.

"i tend to have an affinity towards things once familiar, now altered. when antiques see new incarnations, whether they become more modern, dark, slightly twisted….it is more than novel, at least for me. it’s my inner ballerina fighting with the want to not be a complete priss. i mean, i guess life isn’t just pink tutus and slicked backed buns?"
-dianna agron

i think i've found my kindred spirit. there's something about miss agron that's interested me from the start. when i came across her [website] i found out why. it's like she takes words from my mind and eloquently documents them for the world.
it goes right along with the ongoing list of contradictions that is life: wanting to be two different people.

 sometimes i find myself gravitating towards that hot pink pencil skirt, but other times it's the men's nightmare before christmas shirt. sometimes i'm dancing to my justin bieber singing toothbrush, but other times i'm refusing to pay $12 to go see yet another twilight...but you get the point. having gone to an all girls school, i'm not a huge fan of females, and i find this aversion to estrogen manifesting itself in my life when my few girl friends are out of town and i have to go shopping alone because all of my other friends are boys. i've asked one too many boys for outfit advice.
so, in comparison to all the males around me, i always end up feeling ridiculously girly. after all, i am the only one in a dress. but i must not be too prissy, or i'd never get along with them to begin with, right?

but i've also recently been immersing myself into 'the real world'.
you know, that one outside of la cañada?
i've found myself unsettled because i'm completely insecure about how i see myself in comparison to the rest of the world.
one day, i'm happy to be that girl who likes daisies and drives a red jetta.
but other days, i resent it, and gravitate more toward the darker parts of myself.
some days, i'm proud of the hardships i've faced and conquered, but other days, i wish i could hide them forever.

the conclusion i've come to is that i just need to settle down and accept that it's okay to tuck that jack skellington shirt into my skirt.
but more importantly, that outfit doesn't have to encompass my entire personality.
i'd hope i have more than just two angles.

it's hard to feel unique in this great big world. there are millions and billions of people out there who have this same battle with themselves every day. when i began to come into myself in high school and really think about things, i was always relieved to hear that i wasn't alone in whatever new thought i had on a given day. that's how best friends are formed.
but now, i have this nagging desire to be unique.
and it seems like it gets harder and harder every day.
but shouldn't it be the opposite when i'm the only one in the whole wide world who's seen everything i've seen, done everything i've done, and thought everything i've thought?
and then i realize that that cliché version of myself that i'm seeing is nothing but an image.
whether i'm the only one who stumbles across this image of cece from time to time, or it's countless people...
that's something that's completely out of my control.
my best advice for everyone is to remember that other people's actions are only reactions.
just as they have the power to control them, you have the power to control your own.

now go enjoy the last 11 days of 2011, lovebugs.

13 December 2011

for forever and a day.

the archipelago of kisses:

we live in a modern society. husbands and wives don’t
grow on trees, like in the old days. so where
does one find love? when you’re sixteen it’s easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. there’s the first kiss.
the sloppy kiss. the peck.
the sympathy kiss. the backseat smooch. the we
shouldn’t be doing this kiss. the but your lips
taste so good kiss. the bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
the i wish you’d quit smoking kiss.
the i accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. the i know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. as you get
older, kisses become scarce. you’ll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. if you
were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s
red door just to see how it fits. oh where
does one find love? if you rub two glances, you get a smile.
rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
now what? don’t invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. it’ll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. don’t water the kiss with whiskey.
it’ll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. you must
nurture the kiss. turn out the lights. notice how it
illuminates the room. hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. place it on the tongue’s pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
but one kiss levitates above all the others. the
intersection of function and desire. the i do kiss.
the i’ll love you through a brick wall kiss.
even when i’m dead, i’ll swim through the earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

jeffrey mcdaniel