Squeak squeak squeak

so cute.

I just saw Ravi Shankar and his daughter Anoush perform at the Phillips Center. They also had a tabla player. IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING.

An email from my grandmother:

"Yesterday I learned that we can purchase a duty free hair dryer on our trip to Holland.. Hair dryers are not big in Italy , nor are razors.  Girls do not shave legs and underarms usually.  Anyway this dryer will work in Italy so when I return from my trip I will send it to you ..."

Thanks for the tip, g-ma.

[end]

Things I've found on the bathroom floor:

1. My hair ties seem to twist themselves into little treble clefs when no one is looking. I'm thinking it's a sign.


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Caro Esame d'italiano,

accidenti a te e a chi ti ha cacato!

"Damn you and the mother that shat you out!"

Good thing I got this 400-page book of Italian insults.

"...How could she know what she would feel next year? How could one ever know? How could one say Yes? for years and years? The little yes, gone on a breath! Why should one be pinned down by that butterfly word? Of course it had to flutter away and be gone, to be followed by other yes's and no's! Like the straying of butterflies." - D.H. Lawrence

I just rearranged my plaza site so now none of my links from before will work anymore. Here's a general directory for Purses/Bags and one for Zipper Pouches, in case you feel the need.

This is by far the coolest bag I've made. (back)  It's lined in navy.  My gramma sent me the linen from Wales (Cymru) along with some other ones (from the different countries she's been to), which I'll be making into bags shortly. Whoopee!

Crazy girl (the one who entered/slept/vomited in our apartment) is in my Italian 2 class, which I have every single day.

Seriously, what the fuck.

Peachtree St.

Skippy

yes sir