One of my favorite songs at the moment. :}
Also, one of my favorite bands.

But anyway.. well..

there is no anyway

I have nothing to write about, like usual.

haha.

bye then?

Still Life With Woodpecker

This is chapter 8 from the book Still Life With Woodpecker, a chapter that for some reason I love. I don’t exactly know why I’m posting it on here, but whatever. The book is strange and confusing and I love it. :}

Sandwiches were invented by the Earl of Sandwich, popcorn was invented by the Earl of Popcorn, and salad dressing by the Oil of Vinegar. The moon invented natural rhythm. Civilization uninvented it. Princess Leigh-Cheri would have liked to reinvent it, but at that point she hadn’t a clue

She had ovened that rubber cookie called the diaphragm and gotten pregnant anyway. Many women do. She had played hostess to that squiggly metallic houseguest who goes by is initials, IUD, and suffered cramps and infections. Many women do. She had, in desperation and against her fundamental instincts, popped the pill. She became ill, physically and emotionally. Many women do. She had experimented with the jellies and jams, creams and goops, sprays and suppositories, powders and foams, gels and gunks only to discover her romantic personality-she had grown up with European folk tales (one tale, at any rate)-repulsed by the technological textures, industrial odors, and napalm flavors. Many romantic personalities are.

This constant battle with the reproductive process, a war in which her only allies were pharmaceutical robots, alien agents whose artificial assistance seemed more treacherous than trustworthy, was gnawing with plastic teeth at her very concepts of love. Was it entirely paranoid to suspect that all those stoppers, thingamajigs, and substances devised to prevent conception were intended not to liberate womankind from the biological and social penalties imposed on her natural passions but, rather, at the insidious design of capitalistic puritans, were supposed to technologize sex, to dilute its dark juices, to contain its wider fires, to censor its sweet nastiness, to scrub it clean (clean as a laboratory autoclave, clean as a hospital bed), to order it uniform, to render it safe; to eliminate the risk of uncontrollable feelings, illogical commitments, and deep involvements (substituting for those risks the less mysterious, tamer risks of infection, hemorrhage, cancer, and hormone imbalance); yes, to make sexual love so secure and same and sanitary, so slick and frolicsome, so casual that it is not a manifestation of love at all, but a near anonymous, near autonomous, hedonistic scratching of a bunny itch, an itch far removed from any direct relation to the feverish enigmas of Life and Death, and a scratching programmed so that it would in no way interfere with the real purpose of human beings in a capitalistic, puritanical society, which is to produce goods and consume them?

Since she could not possibly answer that question-she couldn’t even ask it without getting winded-and since the lunch-hour, parking-lot rendezvous in the back of her boyfriend’s van were frankly deficient in certain romantic details that she’d always associated with sex, the Princess decided that she would enter a second exile: celibacy. Before she could steal safely across the border, however, the biological IRS caught up with her and exacted its stubborn price.

How... will I break the news to you?

Motion City Sountrack -Hold Me Down.

Hey there.
So It's been a while..

I just watched the Knowing the other day..

extremely good movie...

It scared me a little... what if the world DOES end like that... soon.

O:

I'd freak.

So I'm going camping this upcoming week. :D

Pretty excited actually.

I'm going for a week with my Grandma, Devyn, Kali[sister] and her friend Tanya. [O.o ugh]

We'll be off to Mt. Olympus one of the days... and I'll be living on the beach the other days. haha.

Hmm, lame post, but I think I'm going to end it here.

I have laundry and tanning to do. xP