i made a 'le sac' dress =DDD

copied from an american apparel design

this piece of fabric had been floating around my craft room for about two years in the form of a thirfted skirt. i had no idea what to do with it until i picked it up last night and said, Gasp! "Le Sac!"

i love sewing. 38$ dress for like.. $4

oh, procrastination, you Siren, you...

-_-

i am coming to the end of my twentieth trip around the sun on wednesday, which means that i will soon be in my twenties. i dont feel prepared.

i love watching myself change over time, so for my future self reading this, or for friends who stumbled upon my blogs/notes, here are some realizations and wisdoms i came across since "april 22nd, 2008"

romantic love is not a object. 'love' is a dedicated action AND a state of mind and heart. {thanks, hope for creating/ relaying this philosophy and ken for being the primary guinea pig for it =P. love y'all

no, you don't always have to be the best of the best, or even 'better'. the rat race makes you trip over your own feet, and plus you'd rather be hiking some forested mountain than running in rubber gravel circles.

the purpose of your life is to try and save humanity from the environmental apocalypse it is ensuring for itself

get over yourself. other people may have it more figured out than you. allow yourself to learn from them!

the world isn't as mean as you thought it was. sometimes its meaner. but it can't do more damage to you than you would do to yourself if you were to paralyze yourself in fear.

when good people are waiting with open arms, don't be stupid. accept their love.


that last one i'm still working on. "nineteen" was most definitely the best year of my life. sometimes it seems too good to be true.

'Who doesn't want to just disappear, at some point in the day, in a year, to just step off the map and float?'

-Another Bullshit Night in Suck City: A Memoir by Nick Flynn

i woke up with a strange sense today, like a creeping crawling up my spine and nausea in the back of my brain. i felt uneasy in my queen sized bed piled with warm blankets and pillows, suspicious as i stepped into some flipflops and trudged across our redwood floors to draw the curtains open to the blinding light of day. i watched my movements as i swung open the refrigerator door and reached for a cold box of factory produced soymilk, processed with essential vitamins and minerals, and poured it into a mug. i tried to concentrate on the mug as it turned round in my lit microwave and tried to lose myself in its heat and steam while i sipped it. i booted up my computer and ran through my ritual, checking email, facebook, myspace, livejournal subscriptions... it would have been an average morning.

the soymilk hadn't satisfied my hunger. i found myself pulling the fridge door open again, and scanning it for something to eat. my hand reached for a brown plastic bag of whole grain bread. usually, my reaction would've included something about 300 million year old ferns trapped in the banal evil of water-tight packaging, but this time my thoughts were fixed on a spot a bit beyond the juices sitting on the top shelf. amid burgandy and purple liquids, in a sterile glowing white theatre, a television screen appeared. i watched it, mesmerized, as it advanced through fractured, saturated images, an informercial staticy after travelling through years of time. baked orange Earth hosts malnourished, large bellied children that forget to bat flies away from their faces//dark skinned mothers cry over infant bones in little bags of skin//five year old children hold up an empty bowl to me with a pained look in their sunken eyes//white-faced good christians ask me for pity, mercy, and help. i closed the fridge door i'd been hanging on to and popped brown slices of bread in my toaster. a girl's gotta eat.