Of Postcards and Paperbacks

I watched An Education this week and aside from the terrific performances and delicious costumes (there's one red and white dress Carey Mulligan's character wears in one scene that is glorious) there's a line from Olivia Williams' character about how her apartment is decorated with 'postcards and paperbacks.' I just love that. It's symbolic of the things I enjoy as well as desire. I'm thinking of starting a separate blog with that as the title. This would be much more focused though. This blog is really nothing more than a hodgepodge of the last three years--and I rather like it that way. So, keep your eyes peeled in the future for Postcards and Paperbacks :)

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Apparently my graduate career is nearly over. Crazy, right? I handed in my final project and it passed without incident. Now I just have to find a jobapartmentpurposeinlife. Ha! Luckily for me, Cousin Katie has insisted that I stay with her for the summer while I get my proverbial shit together. I figure I'll earn my keep by cooking her food and making little arts and crafts projects (naturally all of which I will document on here). Honestly, I already don't know what to do with myself and all this "free time" I've acquired. Step one is to get a sewing machine. I think my mom has one stashed away somewhere. Step two is to figure out how to actually use it. I've always wanted to learn to sew more than just fallen buttons and fabric tears. Perhaps I can throw together some new curtains for Casa de Katie?

Going Down South

I don't know if it was my recent trip to Florida or the premiere of Justified on FX, but lately I've been feelin' some American Gothic. Big time. As soon as I'm done with this cursed final project I'm diving into some O' Connor, some Faulkner, gonna attempt to make a Chess pie, and finally try that sweet tea vodka. It's gonna be a long, hot, spring.

More evidence that a good breakfast can make any day marginally better

If you ever blow a tire on the Miami freeway at 4 am, I highly suggest hitting up the Ham and Eggery. The owners are enthusiastic about three things: wood paneling you can't find outside a 70s rumpus room, decorations that must have been scrounged exclusively from garage sales (where else can you find a giant poster of Scarface, a decorative portrait of the Rev. Martin Luther King, and the cover to a Jimi Hendrix album on the same wall?), and cheap breakfast food. The entire spread pictured (plus a tasty buttermilk pancake that had yet to arrive) cost a mere $13. Despite the harrowing circumstances that led us to this fine establishment (housed in a faux barn no less), the near-death experience may just have been worth it. If I ever find myself in that crummy strip of road within walking distance of the Tire Kingdom, I will be back.

nonsense

I want a garden

I want to wear aprons

I will collect teacups and teapots

I will make pie crust from scratch

I will return to London

I will live abroad

I will write in a Parisian cafe

I will sell a screenplay

I will live for everyone who can't

The Writing Life

I've been reading the Cambridge Companion to Virginia Woolf in search of a specific quote on her writing process and, as usual, her dedication to journaling and letter-writing is both inspiring and exhausting. I look over at my bookshelf at the pitiful little journal I've kept off and on since I went to London in 06. How many thoughts, memories, feelings are now lost? Of course, I have a separate place for 'ideas', quotes, etc, but I could do more. That's the problem with being a writer-type. You never feel like you're working hard enough, writing enough, thinking enough, living enough....sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm getting my MASTER'S degree and it's ok that I'm not as productive as I *could* be...My monstrous final project has definitely cut into my own writing time, but even when I do manage to write a scrap or two of fiction (or lately lyrics again) I feel guilty/stressed because I have this big deadline looming before me. What I wouldn't give to be an accountant or a housewife or a fishmonger and be *satisfied*. I am my own worst enemy.

Travel Fantasy #1

Let's Sail to Byzantium

... I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.~W.B. Yeats

How epic would it be to travel along the Bosphorus to Istanbul, a city full of history, contradictions, art, and architecture of the grandest scale? Taking in the Hagia Sophia, strolling through a bustling market on a hazy afternoon, sipping tea in a cafe with the call to prayer echoing across the city...