day three hundred fifty-nine(-ish).

an early birthday night out at the rather grand powell hall.

 

chaplin was a dream.

day two hundred sixty-four.

important imagery, published in 1982.

 

fiction?

when in the countryside, one must defend oneself in the most violent way possible:

and fight sincerely for the affections of a salt shaker:

TKO!

these kitchen receptacles are seriously bloodthirsty.

had a great final night of pygmalion.
roky erikson/okkervil river, successful avoidance of ted leo, and young bands doing headstands and flips.
if eating my sunday morning toast at 1:00 am with friends is any indication of the start to a good week, i think i'll be okay.

day two hundred sixty-two.

dance friday is for concert goers.

things making me happy this week:

• good music
• familiar photographs
• great friends and their hugs
• pumpkin-flavored everything
• books about magical baking pans

now, i want some apple cider in a giant mug.

happy fall.

day two hundred sixty-one.

day one of pygmalion music festival:

"i have one commandment: dance....OR DIE."

i didn't take any pictures inside the show, as i was busy absorbing the magical, ruffly, acrobatic, sweaty wonder of it all. i wish you all could have been there.
amazing performances, truly.

those of you unfamiliar with janelle monáe should try to, you know, get familiar. at your leisure.

jc: they look like a goblin marching band from the moon .

robyn: they ARE a goblin marching band from the moon! 

(of montreal)

this one salon is into giving free buzz cuts outside at these sorts of events.

happy nest making, birds of urbana.

tired, tightroping boots.

more music, fun, and sleepiness to come.

day one hundred two.

i woke up at 8:00 today to wait for fedex and decided not to go back to sleep.
i spent 2 hours reading my urban lit book for class:

it is not my favorite thing. i should have gone with something less romancey. i wonder if the author or other modern romance writers ever read the dialogue to themselves aloud and think that this is the way people really converse. or have sex. or if they expect their readers to. i get that it's supposed to be a fantasy of what love and romance is, but it ends up just making me laugh and/or sneeze, because sometimes i sneeze when i am bored.

then i spent about 2 hours cleaning, shelving my books, and putting my shoes in rows by the door (except for my snow boots, which i finally banished to the closet so that i don't have to think about how it will snow again eventually maybe).

i'm seeing the antlers tonight:



a nap may be in order.

day eighty-eight.

the owner approached as i was taking this, gave me a half-smile, and i proceeded to scurry away without saying anything. woops.

and david bazan: you had me at playing "bad diary days" last night. A+

day seventy-three.

happy spring break- though it is less of a break than i'd like. but since it does feel like spring, i will let it slide. be good to me, chicago.

also, purchased tickets for 2 april concerts today: david bazan/headlights and the antlers. boom.