My goals are simple: I want true love, a dog, a baby, and to write a book that’s featured on a table at Urban Outfitters during the holidays.

And these nails, obviously.

(Source: bon-bun)

Lykke Li - Knocked Up (Cover)

I know, I know. But really, you guys. Just pretend time and space have collided and somehow it’s 1998 and you’ve successfully recorded this — sans ads — off the radio. You’re laying in your twin bed after hanging up the big kitchen phone (long, yellow cord stretched into your room, slammed into the door) fresh from a call with the boy you love. Just pretend.

I thought so.

"Giblets. Heart. And a 1 carat cushion-cut solitaire. Deglaze the roasting pan with your tears."

YouDon’tHaveThis’s response to yesterday’s post, only furthering my desire to gather the best parts of my Internet together and start some sort of chain letter/drinking game/red tent moontime sit-in/think tank. A true gem, that one.

"If we go into everything seeing good, seeing possibility in those airport bistros, Boingo Wi-Fi, saying ‘yes and,’ what might be possible? It’s the ‘wanting to like it principle.’"

- Bobulate

The people I know who live like this are my favorite kind of people.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

This Year - The Mountain Goats

My medication pushes me out of sleep every three hours or so. I’m finally used to it. Enough so that it’s comforting to wake with certainty that nearly everyone I love on this earth is either asleep or safely tucked indoors. At one, New York and New England are enjoying a few final hours before alarms start firing off morning greetings. By four, my west coast neighbors have fallen off into dreamland.

We all have to rest at some point, and I’m proud of us for waking up each morning and trying again. This song is for days when you’re not so sure.

I can’t keep airplanes in flight with my sleepless mind alone, but I can try.

(Source: tylercoates)

I’m predicting this will be a very productive year, creatively.

Between this and the sweet mix I just downloaded, Tyler’s really hitting it home today. Agreed, sir. Agreed.

2010: The Year of Hugging Too Hard

This year was supposed to be all about the big push. “Do It Anyway, 2010” was the motto. Get it done. Make yourself up, make the bus, make a list, make it work, make it home, make dinner, make it happen.

It was all of those things. Sometimes too many of those things. You see, it’s possible to try too hard.

Mostly, it was time spent learning that just because someone doesn’t love you the way that you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you the only way they know how.

It’s December 31st and Nick is out of the shower. I can hear the suck and release of his deodorant stick in the bathroom. Occasionally, when I was home alone and sad, I used to stand at the sink and sniff the open container. But things are different now.

The last portion of this year was spent making excuses as a pair. We can’t break up because the neighbor’s dog/my mothers/your cousin/the Internet needs us. We can’t break up because we have a dining room. We can’t break up because we are quite possibly the two most stubborn people alive.

But eventually I could only bring myself to listen to Love the Way You Lie 10,000 more times on repeat before crying in the handicap stall at work. When the best fifteen minutes of my day turned into the walk home to our new house and not the time spent in it, things had to change.

So we ended it. It’s been a few months and for the first time since September our place feels lived in. Our place with a lease that is set to run through August 31, 2011.

Your eyes, I can hear them rolling. I’m used to it. What’s that? You have a lot of advice to offer? About your own personal experiences and sage wisdom on this topic? Don’t worry, I’m just decorating my new bedroom, which used to be the office we so desperately thought we needed when we found this place.

I’m embracing my living situation and finding vague pleasure in the fact that my extended family thinks I might be a swinger. I assure you this is not the case, despite all the time I’ve been spending with a certain gentleman of distinction as of late.

More on that later.

For now, I’m going to eat some eggs, wash my hair and see what the last hours of the year have in store.

2011, bring it on. 

Laverne and Shirley - Christmas Eve at the Booby Hatch

A completely accurate portrayal of American mental health facilities in the 70’s. My ultimate life goal should be to successfully sport one of Laverne and Shirley’s baton twirling ensembles (6:30). Forget Mean Girls, L&S’s routine perfectly blended with that Jingle Bell Rock number (3:35) was next level thirty years prior.

Side note: I’ve never been able to get over the fact that Squiggy legitimately looks like he is developmentally delayed.

Civilized Love: Moving Day Edition