30.4.12

These Days


...I feel like this.  After spending my days cleaning up vomit and accidents and bloody noses, then passing my nights applying to jobs from which I won't hear a response unless it's part of a cashier's check scam.

But more on all that drudgery later.  I'm going to go take a shower and eat a cupcake.

Yes at the same time.  What.



Image via Veevs.

18.4.12

W.W.D.D.?

Every time I wonder if I'm being too cutesy or moronic or twee, I try to think about what Daria's reaction would be to whatever I'm doing.

It helps.


Image via Interrobangs Anonymous.

16.4.12

This Day in History

And by April 16th, 1912, the iceberg that sank the great RMS Titanic had finally drifted back to its iceberg bros and was all like, "Yeah, I nailed that bitch so hard, she sank!"

And ice-cold Natty Lite was had by all.

I'm pretty sure that's how it goes.  That was going to be the last scene of Titanic, but I guess they thought the old lady in her nightie would be more relatable.  You know.  To humans.



Image via Iceberg Tours.

14.4.12

Good News, Everyone!

After a year of turmoil and frustration and whining on my part, I am finally moving to Pennsylvania to be near The Boy and also the Amish.  In four weeks.

Good news!

The bad news is, I have no job and no place to live, as of now.  It's as if companies don't want to hire entry-level employees out of state.  Absurd.


So if you know anyone who's hiring, let me know.  Until then, I'll be sending out cover letters and lightly scented resumes and muffin baskets and locks of my hair and perhaps even some lacy unmentionables - generally trying to sell myself like a cheap whore.  

What else is new.

Hope your Saturday is perfectly delightful.



Images via Gunaxin Swide.

Joyeux Anniversaire, Robert Doisneau!














Images via All Posters, Chasing Light, Squidoo, Little Hokum Rag, Masters of Photography, Joy is Style.

12.4.12

LEAVE ALREADY.



Aren't hipsters over yet?  I'm actually a little bit tired of making fun of them.  It was fun for a while, but now it's like all those pictures of married couples with over-sized balloons: There are only so many ways to pose.*  Maybe if we try ignoring the hipsters, they'll just slink quietly back into their dirty hovels, and the world will be hipster-free in two-oh-one-three.**


* Haa I didn't even plan that!
** Which, incidentally, would be my campaign slogan were I running for president in the upcoming election (and that's the most political this blog will ever get).




Image via copypastereposte.

10.4.12

Kindergarten Quote of the Day

"MISS TRACY," shrieked a girl out of the blue, shaking hysterically, "YOUR EYELASHES ARE TOO BIG."

That's rude, child.  Hush, now.



Image via Pulse.

9.4.12

Way Up North: The UC Davis Post

I forgot to bring a camera with me when I went to visit my best friend D. in Davis, which is a shame because it's quite pretty and very stereotypical in its college-iness up there.  So instead, I looked up some pictures on the internet, and I will proceed as if I had taken them, myself.

Getting this aerial shot was a real bitch.  I hope you appreciate it.

Davis has more places to eat per square foot than anywhere I've ever been before.  But that suits D. and myself just fine; food is pretty much the basis of our friendship.  So, this post is pretty much a list of all the places we ate:

1.  The Davis Farmers Market


Such bounty!  Such friendly faces! 

We rolled up on a Wednesday night as the market was closing, but the good people of Davis still practically threw their wares at us: D. and I tried shook some dried fruit out of tupperware and a rather good-looking young Greek man let us sample a dish from his country.  I was more interested in a different kind of Greek dish, but D. was still hungry, so she dragged me away to get pad thai.

2.  Pad Thai


I don't even know what this food is.  But check out the composition and use of color!
I am just a stellar photographer. I had no idea.

I haven't had much thai food, but the Spicy Bamboo dish at this place was tasty enough to make me expand my palate beyond thai wraps drenched in peanut sauce.  And that's despite the fact that the chicken didn't really sit quite right in m'belly.  I guess I'm still not used to eating meat, even though I've been an ex-vegetarian for months now.

Cool story.

D. told me that at night, the tables are cleared away, the hostess stand is converted into a DJ booth, and the up-scale restaurant transforms into a club, complete with colored, flashing lights and a bouncer.  I was speechless then and I'm still speechless now.

3.  La Crepe


Isn't it starting to seem like I actually did take all these pictures?

For breakfast before D's class, we went to La Crepe, where the food was good, but it was really all about the fresh-squeezed orange juice.  I also had coffee and a full glass of water, so...there was almost a situation during the hour-and-a-half lecture.

[Side note: Why is the coffee so good in Davis? Apparently the farther up the west coast you go, the better it tastes.]


4.  Nugget Sandwiches


Doesn't it just look like it's smiling?!

D. told me that these were the best sandwiches in the world, and she wasn't wrong.  The Nugget is a Northern California grocery store, and it's delightful.  Large, vintage circus letters in the liquor section, fresh flowers in tin buckets by the doors, free samples of fresh bread.  Plus, D. has a crush on the guy at the cheese stand, which just tickles me to no end.  We wolfed down our sandwiches with fresh asparagus on the side and delicious coffee to finish it all off, but now I'm a little bit sad.  I miss that sandwich.  If only I had a large beard, I could have saved some for later.

Next time.



5.  de Vere's
I miss it already.


Old man pub, she called it.

"You had me at old man!" I cried, and this little place did not disappoint.  Some of D's friends met us there, and we had fish 'n' chips and stew and cider, and I felt like I was in the Old Country.  Only complaint:  Did not see any old men.


6.  Sophia's


We didn't stay here too long, but it was D's friend's birthday, and Sophia's has a wheel you get to spin to decide which free drink you get on your birthday.

I couldn't find the real picture.

I bought myself a glow-in-the-dark gin and tonic!  Because try as I might to charm and allure, no boys wanted to buy a drink for the twitchy, disheveled girl leering at them from across the bar.

Sup, boo?

Of course, I met D's lovely roommates and delightful friends and cuddled with her big teddy bear of a dog and gossiped with D.  A lot.  I also went to two classes with her, which reminded me that college classes are awesome!  As long as you don't have to worry about homework or projects or midterms.  Which I don't.

You don't even go here!

Miscellaneous:  I had my fortune told by D's gay roommate

Accurate portrayal.

and was almost run over by bikes at least seventeen times.

Not even a little bit accurate.  Bikers there are ruthless.

However, before any of these delights, I got a ticket just south of Stockton - 92 in a 70.  Usually I scour the road constantly for cops, because they're so sneaky: hiding behind bridges, lurking in the brush on turn-outs, even posing as normal cars.  But this time, my sun roof was making a weird noise, and my foot just somehow kept accelerating as I fiddled with the sun roof, so that it wasn't for a minute or two that I even noticed the cop was following me, lights flashing garishly.

Unfortunately, I am not very well-endowed or charming or brave, so I didn't stand a chance of getting out of a ticket - I even tried crying.  Still, something might have worked...maybe...if my car weren't still registered in the previous owner's name...and if I hadn't fumbled and handed the cop two different roadside assistance cards instead of proof of insurance...and if only I had gotten around to correcting my license so that it had my California address instead of my old out-of-state mailing address.  He did go easy on me and just gave me a warning for the address thing.  I think he took pity on me for being such a blubbering moron.

Why...do you...hate me...officer?

Later, when I looked at the ticket more closely, I noticed that the city just south of Stockton is called...

Tracy.

Son of a bitch.  Would you like some salt on that wound?




Images via City Data, Focus on Davis, Kung Food Panda, Walk in the Dust, Coeur de La, Davis Life MagazineBiowareOne-Stop Birthday Ideas, The Happy DashEat Food YumSodaheadUC Davis Special Collectionsbabble, and Road Police.  Whew.

4.4.12

Off Again!

To Davis this time!

Land of the finest bovine.

And big news when I get back.  Have a perfectly acceptable week.



Image via Information Facts, which seems a redundant title, but the article is about cows getting drunk, so.

2.4.12

Death and Taxes

If you're lookin' for trouble, well Mister, you've found it.

Under a streetlamp, just visible in the murky fog, you see her:  long coat pulled close around her chest, collar flicked up and hat pulled low.  She leans against the post as if she owns the thing.  A cold wind stings your face, and as you move closer, you watch her lift a cigarette to her lips and exhale the twisting tendrils of smoke.

She doesn't even look up when you reach her.  "Is it done?" you ask.  "Did you do it?"

Of course, she breathes, as smoke curls out from between her lips.  She looks up finally and her eyes meet yours, steely and guarded.  It was my first time - she takes another drag - but I think I did alright.  It wasn't exactly enjoyable for me, but it'll be worth it for the money I'll get in return.


You swallow nervously.  "Well it wouldn't be fun if you were late.  I worry about you sometimes, Tracy."


The woman laughs softly, pulls her coat tighter to her.  Don't worry so much.  They're only taxes.


Before she even finishes speaking she's already looked away, stepping out of the streetlamp's glow dismissively, off to do...who knows what.  Alphabetize her bookshelves?  Clean out her refrigerator?  Maybe change the oil in her car.  Her heels clack on the cobblestone as she slinks into the fog, hips rolling from side to side and cigarette smoke trailing behind her.

As you watch her go, you think, What a woman. 

Well, that's just who I am.  A woman of the night.  Putting the XXX back in taXXXes.



Image via Classic Movies Digest.