Monday, September 30, 2013

It's been a while. 

See, I'm the awkward bear and all of you guys are Josh, staring silent and surreptitiously hoping I won't smell your ponytails and high waisted trousers.  

In a personal sense, the past few months have brought many changes.

Like my new haircut and induction in the "no pants" society.

     Life catches up quickly, and I'm at the point where the fear is creeping slowly onto my plate: I'm hungry, but trepidation sure isn't appetizing.  Adults and the media play up and idolize the idea of College, making it seem as if having that experience is a sort of hazing to flesh out the new generation of adults; though when you're reading between the lines they never mention that experience and a basic right for education is going to cost you tens of thousands of dollars.  

Besides THAT LOAD OF SHIT, I've done a LOAD OF OTHER SHIT, most of which includes photography which I'm offering to you in the great creative collaboration and exchange of ideas. 

Woah Galveston and stuff

Aren't boys in flower crowns so great?

You can see (majority) of the rest of the photos on my tumblr , which is now a breeding ground for the arts and photography I like to do.  (You, yourself could be a member of my 112 person army if you only believe in yourself and take this first step to glory)

Next on my list is a one-way ticket to spookyville.  Halloween is absolutely glorious, and I'll dig through my skulls and spiders to bring you the best of the most terrifying! 

Hellboy, you're an absolute doll.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Suzy Creamcheese, what's got into yah?

Yesterday I turned a whole 108 years old.  It was spectacular and made my loins tingle with the gross satisfaction that only comes from copious amounts of attention, flirty waiters and free desserts.  I got a whole bunch of cool shit, and I'm still trying to think of ways to thank my parents for thinking me worthy of wiping the bank account over. 

Worthy Loot:

If you know homestuck then you'll get it.  If not, my friend Deven's grandmother is one talented woman. :")

Inside of my birthday card.  Literally laughed until I (almost) pissed my pants. 

Literally died

Can't have a birthday without a breaking bad ref, right?


             On top of general groovtastic brilliance,

             I also had the pleasure of going to the most MIND BLOWING PERFORMANCE I've seen in a long motherfucking time.  I got to see Dweezil Zappa (See: Frank Zappa ) and I'm so glad I did.  I love the way him and the musicians he played with organized the set list.  They basically took musical pieces from various albums and set up a show with as much variety as possible so the people who haven't heard any of Frank's music could have a better chance of finding something they liked.  Not to mention the rest of the musicians were fucking brilliant.  The vocalists were so spot on and everything was so well rehearsed; the guitar solos were 2 arpeggios away from giving me an orgasm. 

Yeeeaah it was a pretty good night. 
You know, it was okaaay

I don't know what I did to deserve all this great karma.  I was one boyfriend and one best friend away from being in pure bliss, but I did get to lay down that night and think of how much more handsome Dweezil was than the last time I saw him. This time I didn't nearly break my ankle on my way to meet him, and I came out with the most perfect example of memorabilia I could ask for. 

Questions and comments welcome, if you guys have any similar stories I'd love to hear. :)


Monday, December 31, 2012

Survival of the Pastel People

My friends, being the intelligent and creative little fuckers they are, usually manage to come up with some really groovy stuff.

My best friend, Tessa, had a really great idea a couple months ago.  We were slightly bummed that we had missed the Homecoming dance, although we weren't actually bummed because we knew that if we went, we would have been bombarded with people we didn't like, music we didn't like, and clothing we didn't like.  So she comes up to me like "Hey, why don't we have our own dance?" 

I sat there and nodded, not really taking into consideration how flat out serious she was about the whole thing.  Naturally coming from a girl like this you know it's gonna be interesting.

Her sweater is ironic because she's allergic to cats.

     She set up a whole damn committee for this thing, which was slightly okay because only half of the actual committee showed up?  We had some beef with one of our friends who thought we were being selfish bastards for wanting to see him (who I personally hadn't seen in a good 5 months), so he went up to Louisiana to be with his family. 
     Her idea was pastel everything.  Pastel foods, pastel decorations (That ended up more or less an explosion of gold and silver tinsel), and if she had her way, pastel people.  We managed at least 1 of those 3 things and ended up with a grazing table that looked like this.

I was afraid to eat the sandwiches because they were sprayed pink and I didn't want to get that shit on my teeth.

      I took lots of photographs (so did a good friend of mine, Jordan Likens ) and got some pretty nice shots out of it. 
I was lucky enough to be assigned the PhotoBooth, where I took shots of unsuspecting partygoers as they handed me lavish natural poses to capture with my camera.

We get excited over this shit, y'know?

The boys.  Who had decided the only way to make Trent look good was to make themselves ugly (er?) 

Alex was so sweet, but the bastard was so quiet you could barely tell if he was around!  But once you got him talking there was a lot to be said and all in all he was a totally cool cat. 

It wasn't actually that stressful from my end of it.  The worst thing I had to deal with was finding a dress.  The one I ended up with was a nice blue dress that, even after I sewed the straps higher, was about 60% boobs.  For once in my life I seriously took into consideration things I'd heard from Jenna Marbles.  And those things included how to make your boobs look awesome. 

Oh damn look at this shit

Happy dancing and face tattoos I didn't choose the thug life the thug life chose me

     All in all it was an actually pretty great party.  Men took their shirts off and ran around while my girlfriends watched like hungry wolves.
     Hungry, single wolves.
     I've got the rest of the pictures up on my Flikr if you're interested.

Speculation on the end of 2012

It's been another year. 
Another long, agonizing year that has ended with a great sigh of relief.  You sit there wondering how all this bullshit and coolshit has just come and gone within a 365 day range.  You've had heartbreaks and stomach aches, but you've also made friends and more blog posts than you can count on both of your hands.   Personally, the end of the year and beginning of the next is always the most exciting for me (Christmas and my Birthday, duh).  But I've had a pretty good later-half of this year.  I'm almost 17 and I have a fucking fantastic group of friends, good clothes, and a boyfriend who really knocks my socks off.

Seriously you guys, I've got it made. 
So leave all the nasty shit behind and take the good shit with you.  

Monday, December 24, 2012


 For normal families, today is the day when your Mother starts freaking out because she has to start cooking for a family you only see once a year.  It's when your Father spends all day sleeping in his easy chair and watching TV. It's when ABC plays reruns of those old stop-motion Christmas specials about Jack Frost and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  It's the day your tiny siblings are stocking up on peppermint, worrying about what kind of cookies that Santa really likes, and running around faster than Whitney Houston on her 8th line of coke.   Today is the day you stay inside on your computer, complaining about the holidays on tumblr and posting ironic Bowie lyrics on your Facebook because, quite frankly, nobody understands you. 

Today is motherfucking Christmas Eve. 

I don't really know what I expect out of Christmas this year, although up to this point has been pretty fucking brilliant.  Like the top of our tree, might I add.  

Christmas is a great time of the year to have excuses to have get-togethers with your friends.  Like mine, who act like meth addicted cokeheads and buy things like condoms (Plot Twist: It was me) and candy bras for White Elephant Christmas gifts.  Oh, youth.  I think if we had booze then a part of the house might have actually caught fire.

I think aside some markers I've already got everything I could ask for. 

Also like most other packs of teenagers, we have tiny white trees topped with homosexual singers and a peeky Norse gods.   

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Oh dear I've acquired a style.

Ryan Matthews, eat your heart out.

See that shirt?  I bought that shirt at a store in Houston the other day. 
It's a damn fine shirt. 
It's got a button loose but it's a damn fine shirt. 

Oh yeah also I have a few more pictures up on My Flikr if you wanna check them out.
This has been a photography update. 

Stuff that Sucks #40

Hand Holding Rejection


                                          Hand holding rejection is the worst. 

                Like, the worst of the worst.  It murders your self esteem with a hatchet and leaves you with grievous wounds that you keep picking at despite protests to leave them alone.  From personal experience, it really makes you question whether going for anything at all is worth it.
                   To me, holding hands is such a groovy thing, especially if the feelings you have for someone reach above and beyond the stars above you.  Holding hands is like linking the like (or love) you have for each other.  It could be cute, or fun, or sensual.  It can be so many different things.  What you can't say with your mouth you can say with your hands and fingers. 
                  I don't know how many of you have experienced this form of rejection, but it plants a seed in your mind of how pathetic and unattractive the person you'd like to touch finds you.
                  It just totally sucks when someone doesn't reciprocate that.  Like when you really care about them.
          Especially when you really care about them.  

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Butts, Buts and a Questionable Sequence of "Although".

Me and my loving boyfriend.
          Lately has been a mess of theatrical teenage bullshit.  I just finished my School's production of "Cinderella" (In which I was the sexy stepsister.), and now I reside in that relaxing limbo in which I wait for the next round of auditions to start.  It was a pretty great show and I was allowed to make some really questionable life choices, like chasing after men because of my deranged, gold-digging Step Mother and my narcissistic older Sister.  But mostly Butts. 

Tina understands my predicaments.

           This weekend was eventful to say the least.  I went to a house show with some of my friends (A house show, for all you lame people out there is like a small gig for local musicians usually held at someone's house.  In this case, it was at my friend Jordan's house which is equivalent to twelve small neighborhoods.  I've had one at my house, although that was back when my friends actually had the desire to rehearse for hours until we gave birth to something that sounded like music.) 
          My friend Jordan's band is just fucking brilliant.  He's really into a lot of undergroundish type stuff, which, if looked at from a vantage point is probably going to be the equivalent of what early Punk rock was in the 1970s.   Sadly I didn't get to stay late enough to see them, (Whales), because I had to take some friends home and then head back to my own house.  My friend Molly was kind enough to pay for my gas money in quarters. 
         ON A MORE FASHIONABLE NOTE.  My good friend Tessa gave me some shorts a while back, of which I have been too lazy to fix.  But today I fixed them and the whole world was right again.  Birds were singing, my lawn was mowed, and most of all I felt pretty damn good about life, the universe and everything. 

Wow look at that I'm almost sexy.

                Those shorts are so damn cute.  I'm tempted to dye them blue, though, in order to satisfy my need for Homestuck. I'd like to thank Hendrix and my Mother for the grace of finding those shirts buried beneath age old clothing from the *gasp* 90s. (The top one is floral print, and they both include shoulder pads and ample opportunity to hint at cleavage.)  I need some white lace tights, though, and I should be set for this Texas winter.