dear snow: I'm not interested.

dear everythingelse: I'm interested.

( Read more... )

...but instead, here's this:

that is where my parents live. that is my dad's voice. those are my dogs. the brown one who limps has cancer. he's going to be dead soon. his name is Robin D. Roo. he's one of my best friends.

turns out I've had this livejournal thing for a really long time. glancing through, I can't help but notice some disturbing patterns.

selected resolutions from 2004:
Have the guts to try new things: learn to play guitar. Learn to longboard. Learn about and do more art ( Read more... )

On the last night of the year I walk blisters into my red boots and drink sangria, vodka and orange juice, kahlua and brandy. I hold his hand without intention, and without intention squeeze it tightly as the man in the doorway prepares his skin for the needle as we pass ( Read more... )

knittaplease.com

this is happening.

hurray for having a camera phone. even more hurrays for figuring out how to use the pictures!

( Christmas in Bellevue is... )

for christmas eve dinner I cook:
baked potatoes
steamed broccoli
onion-apple-red-wine-garlic-paprika dressing
garlicy peppery cheese sauce, and I do not burn the roux.

when my dad licks his knife, leaving sour cream on his lip, I ask him politely whether he remembers telling us: no one is going to want to marry you if you eat like that. he says he ( Read more... )

love is chasing down a flea as it tries to climb into your dog's eye.

Goldtooth read my palms last night. He says I'm entering a calm period, and I hope (morethanIcansay) that he is right.