Abroad

Hello! I am in Bogota, Colombia for the next three weeks!
Hopefully I'll be making some good blog posts soon! Have a great holiday!

looks: French Lunch

For lunch with a dear friend at the cutest French restaurant in Sandy Springs, La Petite Maison, I wore this Zara dress I bought just a few days ago. Sadly, I missed their big 50% off sale by a DAY (a day!!) and didn't have the energy to go back and search for the goods. Oh well! I still walked away with this cross-backed sundress with the most irresistable flower pattern and scalloped hem!

What do you think?

Looks: Island and Adventures with Books

Dress: Surf Shop; Bandeau: Target

Hello again!  Hawaii was beautiful and carefree--I'm in love.  Here I am at the grand canyon (the car ride made me verrryy sick---steep and winds all the way up the mountain!) squinting in the sun. I bought this dress at a surf shop but am  a little frustrated that one side is a little looser than the other. I can't quite figure out why.

While in Hawaii, I read John Updike's Rabbit, Run and the first half of Rabbit Redux.  Unfortunately, a freak wave washed up on my beach mat, bag, and towel, submerging the book and making it swell to twice its size! I did, however, compose a poem addressing my mixed feelings towards Updike, which I wll be sharing soon.

Bye!

ALOHA!

Hello from Hawaii! Kauai Island is so beautiful that I will have MANY photos (hopefully!) when I get home next week! I'll post then! MAHALO for stopping by! haha that's all the hawaiian I know for now, but we'll see soon!

Looks: Orange Juice + a Poem

I wore an orange dress to have lunch with a friend at Cafe Intermezzo, lovingly referred to as Cafe, an adorable litle place near my home. I should've taken pictures of it there--next time, I will!

And here is a poem I wrote on a steering wheel:

Eighteen and a lost woman

The smell of almonds, coffee, and perfume

Smell of almonds--

"Just like if I died from cyanide,"

"What a delicious way to be found."

Looks: Grad Parties pt. II

Skirt worn as Dress: American Apparel; Bag: thrifted

Here's a f un photo of me stuffing my face with Italian Ice! Grad Parties = tons of food we shouldn't be eating in such quantities!

Dress: Brazil; Not shown--Shoes: Soda Boutique, Roswell

Now that I've adequately flaunted my narcissism (just kidding!), that brings us to the end of grad party season!! I'm exhausted--so glad they're over! Towards the end I just stopped going :)

Writing

Another purpose of this blog is to have an outlet for my writing. It needs a home other than my Moleskine (which I love) and a place to gradually come out in the world. So, here is my first poem to be published on the Web besides TeenInk and the like. It's brutally heartbreaking and honest and, hopefully, universal.

Just Like You

Gratulojn- you've won.

You found the golden key.

That house in the clouds you've so often

wrinkled your brow and wondered--

how?

She wears pearls and scarves

and is a delight to see

at the store, to buy tea, to talk.

She is a mysterious woman;

she returns to him each night

in her house on the clouds.

You never see him,

but you hear he loves her.

Mysterious man

now always in his house

creating something? Disappeared

three years ago.

Delicate people.

Sheltered from the world.

So pure, so good. So

desirable.

With your open life

your flawed life

they know what you don't know

the secret of love, you're sure

and now you can find out.

Voyeuristic curiosity.

The first witness

to unearthly love

so beautiful, they will be so beautiful.

Trembling you reach

the house on the clouds with its door

just like yours.

ring--no!

You want to see first. And greed

overcomes you.

Push open, empty space

sparkling, fresh, perfect-

but no.

Floorboards scratches

broken glass

open drawers scattered heels

wine-stained walls--

no.

Chaos bitter Chaos

you. frantically. scan. heart beating

this isn't right.

And there she is, running from a room

satin robe open, thin chemise

(you hear she writes naked, for both)

face creased, flushed, painful.

She is scared; she is caught

she pleads and presses your hands,

it's not like this

Oh Please I swear it's not like this.

He

in the corner behind his camera

still

eyes open shoulders rolled

doesn't move.

Breathes. calmly/

no expression

and he is broken as your picture of perfection,

And you

can not longer breathe

on the floor

eyelids close sleepy haze

thick air can't breathe no air

not like this

not like this oh please not like this.

Then what is there?

In the clouds they turn to gray

lightning brilliant but in the dark

she looks thin.

Pathetic and half alive

dying

Just like you.