“Zerts are what I call desserts. Tray-trays are entrees. I call sandwiches sammies, sandoozles, or Adam Sandlers. Air conditioners are cool-blasterz, with a z. I don’t know where that came from. I call cakes big ol’ cookies. I call noodles long-ass rice. Fried chicken is fri-fri chicky-chick. Chicken parm is chicky chicky parm parm. Chicken cacciatore? Chicky catch. I call eggs pre-birds or future birds. Root beer is super water. Tortillas are bean blankies. And I call forks…. Food rakes.”—
“Every atom you possess has almost certainly passed through several stars and been part of millions of organisms on its way to becoming you. We are each so atomically numerous and so vigorously recycled at death that a significant number of our atoms – up to a billion for each us, it has been suggested – probably once belonged to Shakespeare.”—
“Don’t you think like most things, like comedy, like sex, like anything, it’s about timing? I think we collided with each other,” she adds, referring to her husband, “at what turned out to be the perfect time. We knew each other socially and we didn’t get on and we played poker one night and I don’t know how we ended up kissing but we did and he asked me to marry him about three weeks later and we got together in the same spirit…Maybe I’ve got a lack of consequence,” she adds, “a healthy lack of consequence.”—Cate Blanchett (via pinkhotel)
I’ve been put out with myself recently over how much I check my phone when I’m out with friends. Even sitting at the table with them while they’re telling a story, I’m flipping through some app or text message or email. This article confirms my concern. I don’t know when I began to think that behavior was okay. Maybe it was when most of my friends became just as plugged-in as I am, but honestly, that’s no excuse. (Actually, I do know when - it was when I got an iPhone 2 years ago).
So, things are going to change. I need to focus and be more present when I’m spending time with people that I care about. The phone will take a backseat (or a back pocket) and my manners will be back where they belong.
“I cannot help feeling there is something essentially wrong about love. Friends may quarrel or drift apart, close relations too, but there is not this pang, this pathos, this fatality which clings to love. Friendship never has that doomed look. Why, what is the matter? I have not stopped loving you, but because I cannot go on kissing your dim dear face, we must part, we must part.”—Vladimir Nabokov, The Real Life of Sebastian Knight (via silklace)
“if you’re going to try, go all the way. otherwise, don’t even start. this could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. it could mean not eating for three or four days. it could mean freezing on a park bench. it could mean jail. It could mean derision. it could mean mockery—isolation. isolation is the gift. all the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. and, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. and it will be better than anything else you can imagine. if you’re going to try, go all the way. there is no other feeling like that. you will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. you will ride life straight to perfect laughter. it’s the only good fight there is.”—
“I want my son to know that people screw up, that nobody is perfect, that you can learn from your foibles. I want my son to watch “The Natural” someday, hear Roy Hobbs say, “Some mistakes you never stop paying for,” and know that it’s not just words in a movie. I want my son to know that you haven’t lived until you’ve fought back, that you haven’t won until you’ve lost, that you can’t understand what it’s like to relish something until you’ve suffered, too.”— Bill Simmons via The gift of Tiger Woods (via ESPN & julia)
…and every last one of my girl friends and my mother and both sisters and my father and the shapes in the clouds and the deities that I find in the cracks in the sidewalks: did they not all warn me about men like this? Lone rangers, wounded warriors, the sensitive poets and trick-ass bastards who make me believe for a few heavenly months that I am the woman they waited for until, suddenly, spring returns with all its heat and bare legs and we’re all running late for somewhere else and better and bigger, and something holds him back. And something holds him back. (via & by caryrandolph)
I have fantastic friends and family that made today ridiculously special: lots of notes and phone calls, a picnic in the park with my KC faves (complete with a sweet rainbow pirate ship kite), and dinner with my best friend from home who just happens to be in town (complete with 11 layer cake). I’m a lucky girl and couldn’t have asked for a better birthday weekend.
29, you’re looking pretty damn good right now; let’s do this.
“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion…That is just being ‘in love,’ which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.”—
I can only imagine where I’d be today if I hadn’t started this little collection of things I like. I can’t begin to name all of the friends I’ve made and experiences I’ve had thanks to my interactions here, but I’m grateful for all of them.
There there will be many more to come - friends, experiences, years - and I’m looking forward to every single one.
Thanks, kids - y’all really make a girl feel loved.
“I get worried for young girls sometimes; I want them to feel that they can be sassy and full and weird and geeky and smart and independent, and not so withered and shriveled.”—Amy Poehler in an interview for Bust Magazine