'Veggie Love': PETA's Banned Super Bowl Ad
'Veggie Love': PETA's Banned Super Bowl Ad
They unravel their handwriting
and then tie it up again, but differently.
-- Jean Cocteau
by Jean Cocteau
...For the explosive word
the compact generations
and except for you
its sweet-scented dynamite
I discard eloquence
the empty sail
and the swollen sail
which cause the ship
to lose her course
My ink nicks
and what is it about schools? so schools have kids, so what. is that the only difference? is it the waiting at the school bus in snot freezing cold that allows for a school day? my snot can freeze wiping off my car. i'm fragile too. my hands and feet are always freezing; cold weather just doesn't do my body good. but really, is it just those school bus kids that get everyone else a day of pj wearing, old movie watching, good book reading fun? no, i'm not bitter, not at all. i mean they get holidays off, sometimes weeks at a time, and the whole summer off, why not snow days too?!
okay so yes, yes it's snowing and yes i'm thinking about how i'd rather be at home. hmmm.
i miss the days of snow dances and school closings. maybe i should become a teacher.
The icy wind slaps me, open handed
Cherry cheeks revealed
Extra layers turn my gait clumsy
No warmth can be felt from within
I want to build...
Fingers numb, toes tingle
Blood runs red to blue
My voice fragile, cracks a hello
I want to build...
Icicles hang in exclamation points
Windows webbed with frost
Steam spills over a ceramic lip; taunting the outdoor air
I want to build a fire
Hand cut wood
Day old newsprint
One strike to ignite…
An inner warmth forms
An outer glow flickers
Skin glistens with a fiery hue
Limbs free from the labor of bulk
Body washed with a smoky scent
Cleansed from floral fragrance, striped of conformity
Unified with originality
I built a fire...
and felt the warmth from within.
"Acid Tongue"--Jenny Lewis
"We built ourselves a fire..."
hanging like a fuzzy peach,
rises a smile.
I sort of miss that little thing.
The New & Improved...
The Old & Drab
I'm a fan of change. Most of the time, change is hard. People don't like their organized and scheduled-to-the-minute lives to be swiped up and shaken around. But you know what, everyone can use a little change. So what if your shaken up pieces settle back down in a different order or in a different place. Maybe you'll be all the better for it. Switch things around and break out of habit. See the world in a different light. It's good for the soul. It releases the days from fast forward and allows them to play out, scene by scene, as they should.
Craving a little change yourself? Can't wait until Tuesday for it? Get your fill here by creating your very own alternative Oval Office with IKEA's interactive site. You can even send your design directly to the White House. Pretty rad right? I'm going to go put me up some bunk beds in that oval joint. Peace.
In a perfect world there would be 1.) Furr by Blitzen Trapper and 2.) Stop-motion animation. What, what did you say Baxter, Blitzen Trapper did a stop-motion animation music video of Furr? Oh Baxter, "You're so wise. You're like a miniature Buddha, covered in hair." (Forgive me, I've been on this Anchorman quoting kick--yikes!)
Check out the masterpiece below. Who knew my Tuesday would turn out furrtastic?
10:10 a.m. November 3, 1980. Swaddled in green. A little lady in ruffles and curls. A blooming jock grass stained in pigtails. “Mommy will you play Barbies with me?” “Jess let’s play catch.” Lanky. Matchbox cars wind through the dirt. A unicorn silk-screened shirt. Sneakers laced; capture the flag beneath a full moon. T-ball, soccer--biddy basketball and a bum pinkie for life--jazz, gymnastics. Awkward. Piano, clarinet. How do you know unless you try? Short stories. Yes. Drawing. Yes. Goofing off. Always. Feathered bangs, scrunchies and Keds. Braces and backpacks. Shy. Windy road ahead. Bump. Set. Spike. I made my own paper with a homemade screen sieve. Perm, Express jeans and the opposite sex. “Only girlie girls use hairspray.” A leather mitt, cleats and practice. Game. Practice. Game. Is it summer yet? Musty and damp, a dome tent shelter. I hooked a fish in the eye. Success is had—the perfect stick is found. S’mores. Years of lessons to ensure I won’t drown. “But the water is freezing!” This is getting old. Doggy paddle, crawl either way I’ll stay afloat. I saw a kid at school with facial hair. “Stay away from dirtballs.” Does this road have a shortcut? Please. “Where were you in middle school?” A straight new smile. MVP. On the diamond in Canada. On the court at Penn State. My first beer by a bonfire. Boyfriend. Makeup. Perfume. 6 months. First broken heart. School, camps, travel teams--my life becomes a constant schedule of events. SPAC ticket stubs. Highlights. Homecoming court. Varsity jacket. Bitchy girls. Mean People Suck. Best friends. A wasted “I love you” or two. Empire State Games. Those three words finally stuck. Who do I want to be? Where do I want to go? Shuffle off to Buffalo! Shared space and bathroom caddies. A BFF made. Preseason, postseason, 6 a.m. practices. Home. Away. Home. Bus rolls in at 1 a.m. Coffee. The meaning of an all-nighter discovered. Study dates. Burnt toast. My first attempt at meatloaf. Keg beer. Movie dates. Pearl Jam and Mike’s hard lemonade. House parties and 21-year-old Canadians. Vegetarian? In love. Out of love. In love. Out of love. A never ending cycle. Lose the map. No give it back. Where did this map come from anyway? Whoever made it, I hate them now. Maybe I’ll thank them later. Cap and gown. Love blossoms from paper and ink. The “real world” is found. My new roomies: Lara from Brazil, Leticia from Spain. And two from France make five. I always wanted an accent. The new becomes old. The old becomes new. Load it up; pack it in, head on out. Take a new look at an old place. Pull the perfect shot. Make a mean froth. Did you know a soy steamer and caramel syrup tastes like pancake batter? AMVETS. Nose piercing. A career in advertising? What about the road of education? Admissions Counselor. I like Maine. I like New England. I like the East Coast. I don’t like Texas. Grad school and a new title: Assistant Director. Publications and the Web. Something up my alley. Ahhh Denver, mountains. What no water? “Will you make me the happiest man ever and be my wife?” SOLD. San Francisco. Hello Redwoods. Sacramento. Oh how I love CA. Brown and slate blue. Green hydrangeas. To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. Until death do us part. I do. Napa Valley. Lake Tahoe. Share a bottle of red, share an entire lifetime. Onto Personal Fulfillment Rd. Copywriter. A snapshot here. A good book there. Girl’s trip! I dig the West Coast. Writing. Listening. Running. Crafting. Laughing. Crying. Smiling. Eat, work sleep and repeat. Am I lost? Lost: Unable to find one's way. Nope. Not lost. I’m just making my way…to here.
The way our environment is breaking down around us, I'm not so sure.
One word: UNDERPANTS!
(I'm such a child.)
This totally beats any paper snowflake I ever made in grad school.