enough snow already

so it’s snowing like a bastard again. big wet flakes that stack up on the treebranches and turns to slush really easy. i don’t care how pretty it is, i’m fucking sick of it and i don’t know if i’ll make it to spring. also just realized i bought like half a pound of crap granola. i thought it was “good” granola, but it’s not. it’s disgusting. and it might be months ’til the thaw, when i can go out and replenish my granola reserves.

this post is really nothing more than space for me to cry about how i do not want to get dressed and go to work, even if my early morning outside job didn’t need me due to snow today and i only have to go do my easy inside job. it’s too winter outside. if i get in the shower, i will stay in there until the water’s cold as hell and never want to get out. i’d rather sit inside the house all day, smothered in dog farts, choking down this sad excuse for granola.

1/12 HELLO JANUARY

so instead of setting myself up for disappointment by playing along with one of those “one self portrait a day for 365 days” memes (god, how many days would get lost under my lack of motovation) , i’ve decided to do one self portrait a month for the next twelve month. not only will this hopefully get me back into the habit of shooting myself (which i love, no matter how juvenille and narcissistic it seems)–hell, maybe some months will have 2 or 3 portraits!!–, but will also document my journey this year into achieving my dream of LONG, LUCIOUS LINDSAY LOHAN HAIR. this is going to be the year i DON’T go apeshit and shave my hair off once the sun starts shining for more than 6 hours a day.so, hello january.

i honestly do not have any other aspirations this year outside of the hair thing. oh, i have decided to enroll in collage classes once i turn 25/the year i turn 25. so technically, that’s a NEXT year’s ambition. i should also try and keep up on this blog–i checked my stats, and you all keep reading even when i don’t post so now i feel infinately guilty. it’s not for me that i should be taking pictures and waxing lyrical about my dog throwing up all over the bed again or how netflix got a glitch and now i get THREE MOVIES AT A TIME CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?, it’s for you, faithful reader. it’s for you.

wine & bones II

wine&bones, a little “photo party” group i’m part of, had it’s second get together this last weekend. much wine was drank, many photos were snapped, many articles of clothing removed and plenty of hysterical dancing in the street done. i still have a heap of photos i haven’t even touched, and the same can even be said about the photos i took at the last party. i feel like i’m hoarding them, somehow. saving them for something nicer than a blog post or update on my website. no matter where the photos do end up, i always have a blast at these things, and i’m meeting a lot of new people i probably wouldn’t meet otherwise. our next party is in three weeks, and it’s doubling as a 21st birthday for the girl who helps me organize w&b. who just recently got us some props i’m pretty excited about..!

to the grandest frenchie

over christmas, one of the first and most incredible french bulldogs i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting passed away.

leave it to me to get weepy and sentimental about what is essentially a stranger’s dog, but i’d known baby ducky for almost four years and she cemented my love of french bulldogs with her sloppy little mouth full of crooked teeth and googley rheumy eyes and big ol’ bat ears that felt like soft wallet leather. every day i saw her became a good day. grandma baby ducky.so, of course, within a month i’ve got her (well, not technically HER–i went with a piebald for aesthetic and not-being-creepy reasons) added on to my meager dead dogs sleeve. ron miller, aka TSD, is the man with the plan who puts up with my pathetic whining and borderline insane “OMG PUPPY”ness–even when i’m working. she makes me smile. i got into an arguement a few days after getting her and was driving around, pissed the fuck off and snarling and i glanced down and saw her and just couldn’t stop smiling.

life is too short for anything but holding hands and cute puppies. and as much as i love all my dogs long gone, i’ve got the best one farting in my bed right now.
“w-w-well jeeze mom and dad that’s just the way my face looks!”

let’s chop cats!!

one of the neighbors has this big pretty cat that likes to strut around and antagonize popeye. the only cat he’s ever had contact with before was my mom’s calico, muse the empress, who was old, cranky and inhospitable and would pretty much disappear when popeye came around. this cat wants to start some shit.

white christmas

well, hello and happy holidays to you, (moderately) faithful readers. a snowstorm forced me off the face of the planet, apparently. day after christmas, we woke up to this:and had to call our only friend with a 4×4 jeep to come pick us up for breakfast. us? oh yes, my ” big brother” eric surprised us all and came down from denver for christmas. people always assume that i hate eric, because of my prickly demeamor whenever his name is mentioned, but it’s the exact opposite. i love that guy. he was a fucking idol in my silly 16 year old eyes. he was so fucking charismatic, he had tattoos and a wireless guitar he played on the porch of his communal “punk house” and he had bands play punk rock shows in his basement and he really inspired me, i guess. and he looked after me, silly little lou, as i shaved my head and i cried my way through vodka shots and involved myself with a goddamn 24 year and all the other stupid 16 year old shit i did.

but he’s a dangerous fucking person. i worry about him a lot. not a lot of my friends from that time in my life managed to get happy and satisfied and find what makes them happy in life, and it breaks my heart. i honestly just want the best for him, so when i hear his name and snarl and spit something like “yea, if he could stop blacking out drunk and getting himself nearly murdered”, it’s because i care. because it makes me sick to my stomach to think that kid won’t make it to 30. but i know he’s doing what he loves to do, so i should just shut up and be happy for him.

but i’d really appreciate it if just once, he could visit and not have it end in a 4am fist fight.

new years *09

on new years, i made out with two bottles of andre, but i somehow managed to loose a very hackneyed hula hooping contest (because the water in my hula hoop had frozen–i keep it in my car trunk at all times–and i couldn’t get a good swang on it). woke up the next morning with a mac truck idling on my brain, absolutely no desire to drink said bottles of andre, and a boyfriend who would probably trade the world for a girlfriend who doesn’t wake up in tears when she has the slightest inkling of a hangover. i’m still picking confettis out of my goddamn carpet.

but, what a year!

i participated in my first art walk (and ended up hanging things in at least 4 throughout the year), turned photography into a profit, got nudie pictures of myself taken for the first time ever, watched my little boston baby grow up, took some of the best photos, in my opinion, since the early 2000’s, got some dead dogs on me for life, made a lot of new friends (and refound some old ones) and really branched out with my photography, held on to a job i love (no matter how hard it is sometimes), caught the BABY FEVER (and managed to get it under control…sorta), lived ALONE for the first time in four years, started working at the shop, made some pretty serious faux-paus (understatement of the year) in my relationship and somehow mended them and i still get that wild, love sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when i see him, the same feeling i got seeing him get off that bus from denver two years ago.

it wasn’t a year of great big life shifting changes–it’s not like i moved to ohio or anything, but looking back over the photos from 2009, it was an absolutely beautiful year for me. lots of love, laughter, and all that smushy bullshit.

i really am lucky. the luckiest girl in the world. i just have to remember that.

still

still not “feeling it”.

lonely, snowy and typically depressed over the fact my grandparents have been dead for ten years and they are never coming back. happy holidays.

on one hand, i’ve made a huge mistake. on the other, i’m moving forward leaps and bounds. sick to my stomach 80% of the time. i got played, ladies and gents. for the first time ever. i feel scorned for sure.

oops.

lost access to my photos for awhile. why do i always do that? also, boo on buying christmas presents for people, then severing, and being stuck with something you consider real dumb. anybody want a macho man randy savage shirt for christmas?

@ work on a tuesday