Photo of the Day: Downtown Reflections

I love downtown Portland, especially on sunny days when you're not sure where the buildings end and sky begins.

Mr. Blue Eyes Hot Pants

I think it's about time I told ya'll about my new gentleman caller (snicker). Whom I'm still undecided on a nickname for. Right now it's between Mr. Blue Eyes and Hot Pants. Kinda leaning toward the latter, even though the former is just perfect.

I'm hopeful that by thus point I'm past the stage of jinxing it by talking about it. I hope. I'm not even that superstitious, but I've let several friends get me all nervous. So nervous I am. Also: Yoda apparently.

And YET! My afterglowy bliss trumps nerves right now. I can't even express the extent of bliss. It seems folly to be this happy this soon, but there it is anyway. It's unreal. It's a dream. It's too good to be true.

Neverthefuckingless, there's this attentive, smart, funny, sexy, great guy who thinks I'm awesome and it all seems to just fit. He keeps saying he's so lucky. "A lucky guy." I think his luck has nothing to do with it. It's my good karma finally kicking in. I've dated enough douchecanoes and guys who just didn't appreciate me, my karmic bank must be rich indeed. And I'm cashing in.

But dude. Dude. He appreciates me. I've told him it's not why I like him, but it's so fucking wonderful to be appreciated just as I am. It's so nice, so intoxicating to be with someone who is so effusive, who expresses his admiration so freely. I really can't get enough.

But, like I said, Mr. Blue Eyes Hot Pants is pretty fucking awesome and I know I'm the lucky girl here. I don't think he knows it. Knows how fucking awesome he is. All those things I said above? All true. I wouldn't lie. And I don't hand out praise undeservedly. So there you go. And I know he's reading this (Hi, Hot Pants.) so maybe he'll believe it.

We have such a fun time together, people. So much fun. And would you believe it? I never get sick of him. I said I'd tell him if I get claustrophobic and need space, but the ebb and flow of time we spend together has felt just right.

People? We so kick ass at the blissful moments. You think you've got the blissful moments? Well guess what? We beat you. Nobody does the blissful moments better than we do. Also? Spooning like no one else. 

And The Sex? Well I'll let you imagine. Hah! I'm such a tease.

There is one thing wrong with him, though. He hates the twenties. You heard me right. The twenties. How can anyone hate the twenties? Speakeasies, jazz, fashion? Gah! I love it all. If I could, I'd bob my hair and dance to old timey jazz forever.

I guess I can let it go. If he doesn't tease me for loving the twenties so.

Right?

I think I'll let him stay.

Miss Susie

“Miss Susie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Susie went to Heaven, the steamboat went to...”

Pigtailed girls slap hands in perfect timing. Slap slap slap.

“Hello operator, please give me number nine and if you disconnect me, I'll paddle your...”

Little hands, dirty fingernails, slap slap slap in quick-paced rhythm, a soundtrack to the  playground cacophony. Slap slap slap.

“Behind the 'frigerator, there was a piece of glass. Miss Susie sat upon it and broke her little..”

Innocent voices know the naughty words by heart. Giggles syncopate between breaths. No mistakes are allowed,. Don’t mess up. Slap slap slap.

“Ask me no more questions, tell me no more lies. The boys are in the bathroom pulling up their flies...”

Standing in the bright sun on the concrete, LA Gears on our feet, chalk outlines beneath us, wrinkly hypercolor T-shirts moving with our little bodies. Slap slap slap.

“Miss Susie and her boyfriend are kissing in the D-A-R-K-D-A-R-K-D-A-R-K. DARK, DARK, DARK. Dark is like a movie, a movie's like a show, a show is like a TV screen and that is all I know.”

Collapsing in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Glances at the proctor, Miss Haskins, to see if she heard. Success!

Pigtailed girls pull themselves up, pushing bangs out of eyes, sitting cross-legged across from each other. Hands in position.

“Okay. Ready? Go!”

“Miss Susie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Susie went to Heaven, the steamboat went to...”

 

This was a post for the RemembeRED prompt: This week, as the school year is wrapping up and we're on the cusp of summer, we've decided to go easy on you. We want to know what, from your childhood, do you still know by heart? Is it a story? A jump-roping song? The number of rungs on the ladder to your treehouse? How much money you had to save to buy something you really wanted?

Song Sunday: Rill Rill

I got to see Sleigh Bells in concert not long ago. Let me tell you, I kid not when I say they are rock stars. This chick is HA CHA HOT. Rocking lobster. I was having trouble describing the sound exactly and I think it's hard yet quirky, almost metal meets power pop. This song is the softest one they have and, in person, it's pounding hard and loud and bright as fuck. This old lady (moi) almost had a seizure. But it was rocking fo sho.

Anyway, this song is delicious. My fave I think. Pee to the ess? All that desert footage is so my home town. Not sure what that's a sign of but I'll take it.

Enjoy!

This Week at Sprocket Ink

Once again, I bring you some delicious words over at Sprocket Ink. Don't lie. You know you love it.

This week, go read:

A Poppy for My Pop
This Memorial Day, I remember the sacrifice my father and his fallen friends made overseas.

Feminine Products: Marketed by Penises
Have a happy period? Only when Midol comes with Prozac.

Thanks for reading! Please leave comments of the site and I'll be your best friend.

Photo of the Day: Sliver of Focus

Let's play a game. Can you find the tiny part of this photo that's in focus?

Also: don't you just want to have sex in all that bokeh? Yummy.

Random Thoughts of a Crazy Lady

I think I have a little writer's block. And a tried and true technique for me when I have writer's block is to write about writer's block.

Here's the thing, though. As I mentioned yesterday, I do have stuff I could write about, but I can't. And in comparison, nothing I can think of to write seems to get my fingers tapping. I can't get excited to write about anything.

Is that lame? Totally. Do I really mind? Not really.

It's not like I'm not busy. Though my freelance gig finally ended last Friday. I'll miss that money, but I'm excited to have 15 or so more hours a week to myself. I have just one job just like a normal person! Well, one job plus two websites to write for. Which I do to myself because I love it so. And like I could ever truly be normal. What is normal anyway?

Plus I've been busy, busy gallivanting around and acting like a teenager. Playing on playgrounds and making mix CDs. I gots to say: I don't hate it. More adults should do this stuff, because it's delicious.

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I've been busy with Blogger Body Calendar schtuff, getting my photos (which you don't get to see until the calendar is out! but I may share film I didn't use AFTER it's out) and writing my posts. That's so exciting and I'm overjoyed to be apart of it.

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Since everyone was guessing at my happiness tease post yesterday, I thought I'd make it fun. And how does everything get more fun? A GAME! AWYEAH!

Therefore, guess what's making me so happy:

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THIS! Is pretty damn cool: