If you were cool in high school
you didn’t ask too many questions.
You could tell who’d been to last night’s
big metal concert by the new t-shirts in the hallway.
You didn’t have to ask
and that’s what cool was:
the ability to deduct
to know without asking.
And the pressure to simulate coolness
means not asking when you don’t know,
which is why kids grow ever more stupid.

A yearbook’s endpages, filled with promises
to stay in touch, stand as proof of the uselessness
of a teenager’s promise. Not like I’m dying
for a letter from the class stoner
ten years on but…

Do you remember the way the girls
would call out “love you!”
conveniently leaving out the “I”
as if they didn’t want to commit
to their own declarations.

I agree that the “I” is a pretty heavy concept
and hope you won’t get uncomfortable
if I should go into some deeper stuff here.

David Berman, Self-Portrait at 28

Apt song for today where, gray skies and recent European adventures notwithstanding, I feel that urge pulling me to just go, go, go, with miles of empty road and distant coast ahead.

And Cat Power, as always, nails it.

(Source: youtube.com)

A Year of Manhattan

The pastel martini glasses hang from the shelf, eight in a row and clang-clang each time the door opens.

The stampede of feet never stop. From the couch. From the bed. Always there. The rhythm of people running up, running down the stairs. And then, of course, the voices.

A never-ending collection of hair forms on the linoleum-tiled floors. Cobwebs dance about the high ceilings.

A tunnel of warmth under the covers on my twin-sized futon mattress in my private tiny box beneath the sidewalks of East 85th Street.

Saturday or Sunday mornings in the sunshine, along the East River. Warm bagels, hot coffee, and the water forever clawing at the concrete earth.

Cockroach-infested, three-day-old garbage festering in the hallway with dead (oh! no that’s alive!) waterbugs scattered throughout.

And a back garden for barbecues in the deep summer or early fall with everything humid and heavy and wonderful and the mosquitoes biting their masterpieces onto my legs.

Ten minutes to midnight. Crack open the door. Wander outside into cold, fresh air in my puffy green coat and red hat. And walk toward the building with the doorman, standing still in his uniform, watching the mirror, waiting.

Impromptu Robin Williams memorial outside the Mork & Mindy house
Boulder, CO

Impromptu Robin Williams memorial outside the Mork & Mindy house

Boulder, CO

It’s sunflower season again!
This year, unlike last, it seems like summer will never end. Which is to say, I am happy.

It’s sunflower season again!

This year, unlike last, it seems like summer will never end. Which is to say, I am happy.

I want to read books that feed me, that go in my mouth and throat and down in my guts and nourish me or mess me up but feed me that way too. I want to read books a writer had to write, could not not write or she’d go effing nuts.

I want a book that will make me think or feel, even if it makes me feel shitty or like I want to go out and smash things like mirrors and windows and people’s skulls or maybe instead do something decent or kind, or thank someone. Or smoke and drink and have sex with people I shouldn’t have sex with or maybe even apologize for things I did to someone long ago.

Rebecca Brown, “Shut Up: A Manifesto Against Irony”

Quoted because I also, often, get sick of irony, of people not letting themselves be vulnerable and so remaining disconnected, isolated, unable to fully love and appreciate.

“ Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain. ”

Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums  (via thatkindofwoman)

Always my favorite. Always reblog.

(via thatclimbergirl)

(Source: whyallcaps.us, via kenyatta)

At the Naschmarket in Vienna

At the Naschmarket in Vienna

Charles Bridge, Prague

Charles Bridge, Prague

Hotel Adler, Dresden, Germany
Yes, the name was a significant factor in my choosing to stay at this hotel. From the outside, it looked like a haunted mansion, which only made the experience all the more wonderful.

Hotel Adler, Dresden, Germany

Yes, the name was a significant factor in my choosing to stay at this hotel. From the outside, it looked like a haunted mansion, which only made the experience all the more wonderful.