love avocados

Milk

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 03:29:00 +0000

One day I am going to roll my eyes so hard I'll be forced to look at the inside of my head forever.

Do you ever get this? When you close your eyes. And there is a cluster of thousands of tiny white dots, all lined up, that drift around in a big group. I can see them whenever I close my eyes, and sometimes even when I don't. When I was a kid, they used to form shapes and I would watch them fly around at night to help me fall asleep.

Dragnet

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 02:46:00 +0000

We are all undergoing artistic schizophrenia. Some folks might find this helpful, the ability to simultaneously channel, filter and flip through a million influences, snippets and references and distill it into something uniquely their own. This is where we can sing the praises of having a literal world of information at our finger's tip. But for me, and I don't doubt quite a few others, this is amazingly detrimental. This ever-growing sense of modern-day anxiety caused by the very applications that are meant to comfort and de-stress - this is what makes the act of creating anything - nevermind art - nearly impossible. Each time I do anything at all I subconsciously compare every cadence, every lyric, every whip of my whisk to every other thing I've seen or heard in my lifetime. Fast motion. Flip through the hypothetical iTunes album covers of my life.

It's depleted my capacity for memory. Every day, I'm inundated with so much information that my brain can't categorize quickly enough. It can't process which memories and what knowledge is worth keeping in accesible parts of my lobes. What occurs is cultural amnesia - if more than a week has passed since I've heard a song, seen a movie, read a book, all the information disappears. I've been slipped a pop culture roofie preceding a night of bourbon and heavy petting and all that remains is the taste of cheap lube and leftover burrito in my mouth.

My patience has gone amok. The J button of my Reader is within such easy grasp that I find myself actually pushing J anytime I'm on a website, wanting the next thing. The muscle of judgement has bulked exponentially, mostly for the worse.

I don't know. This is the start of a larger rant but I'd rather just show you some photos of our Christmas tree, named Güs. You see, many years ago [2, if you're counting] we had a tree named Gus, fat and squat and bushy and ornamented with empty, glittered beer cans. We tried our hardest* to find a replacement but settled for this handsome, slim fellow who is a beaut but is no Gus. So we trimmed him with flea market keys painted brass, wine corks [in keeping with our wino theme], stickers, and various other ephemera. So he is Güs. Welcome.

* We did not try very hard.

Diversion.

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 00:52:00 +0000

What was to be a post-Thanksgiving fruit fast turned quickly into - a half bottle of wine and a Bourdain episode of eating sea urchins later - a leftover turkey and cranberry sauce bender spiked with the jealousy-induced purchase of 2 trays of California Gold uni from Catalina Offshore Products. Also mackerel and monkfish liver. Oooops. At any rate, at the bottom of this bottle of Syrah lies the kind of forgetfulness that will make the uni's arrival that much more majestic & whimsical? Right??

Here comes turkey.

Butternut squash and chestnut stuffing, port-laced cranberry sauce, cookies, pie, and thyme and parm mashed potatoes.

Wild & Crazy

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 04:44:00 +0000

Does the smell of Play-Doh have a brain-smacking visceral effect on you? Have you smelled Demeter's Play-Doh? How about cult fave Luctor et Emergo who's supporters and detractors alike effusively cry "PD!"? The latter is divine, Play-Doh or no, but the point of all this is. Well. This is what occurs on weekend nights of late, kids.

Creatures.

And more, with drawings of boobies for a backdrop.

What's this quarter-life crisis come to?

Sake to me.

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 00:44:00 +0000

Hey. You know, now that I've been walking dogs again, I'm out and about all day with all the servicey folks - postal workers, delivery people, handymen, doormen - it's kind of like an above-ground underworld with a secret language, but it's probably just me trying to make life into a fairy tale again. The end.

This explains a lot of things, does it not?

Here are my beautiful groceries.

Somewhere in Indiana, my toes.

Very pebbular.

Halloween.

Out On The Mezzanine

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 17:28:00 +0000

Moderately eventful handful of weeks. Let's sum up, in no particular order:

1. Had my wallet stolen. Dude just took it out of my purse. Brilliant. Lost everything.
a. Including my TX license, which I very begrudgingly replaced with an IL. Does this mean I'm no longer a Texan?
b. Was I ever actually a Texan?
c. Dude spent hundreds at Jewel-Osco on booze, probably, since what else are you going to drop a few hundred on. Not alfalfa sprouts or butternut squash, I'd venture, which really eats my muffin since there's a, like, 90% chance some bepimpled walking coma checked the perp's ID, uselessly.

2. Quit my job, visited home, started dog walking again. Infinitely more rewarding than merging and acquiring. Puppies vs. finance. You do the math. Figuratively, of course, all figurative.

3. Parents met fiancee's parents in one fell stressor here in Chicago. Butt clenched entire weekend, did not poop till Monday. All told, things went fine.

4. Perfume Posse clan hosted Chi-Cocoa Scentsation, which KPE staff attended with gusto despite the downpour. Fragrance wishlist has grown exponentially, am nervous about impending inebriated purchases. Check out pic of epic swag score below.

5. Hurricane Ike ripped 2 huge trees, roots and all, out of my parent's backyard. They have purchased a chainsaw for clean up, my butt is numb from nervousness. We were very lucky. For that I am grateful.

6. Went camping in Wisconsin for Labor Day, engaged in v. successful hot dog/cheese/condiment/chocolate experiments on the grill, engaged in wholly unsuccessful "beach" attempt. A sandstrip against a murky creek is different from a beach. Got myriad flora stuck between my Vibram toes.

Evidence:

Perfume bounty.

A forest tween my toes.

Pitch black camping snacks [we accept torch donations].

The ultimate meatsnack. Chicken apple brat stuffed with cherry calvados compote, topped with muenster, in our very own aluminum grilling basket creation. *

*Blueprints for this architectural wonder avail on request.

An Open Letter

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 19:05:00 +0000

Look, not for naught, another chapter has closed. Fin. Take what you can and don't look back. The story is not over. Nothing is definite. You're inclined to reflect willfully on the past but instead, stop and start again. Adhere.

Bring back confidence. Do not define your style by anything other than yourself, lest you misplace the meaning of style. Your five year old self will always be smarter, more adequately shameless.

You are not nearly so great as you think, but you are not so horrifying, either. Be a sponge, but know it's applications. There are no wrong choices. Your guilt is meaningless. Trust that, and yourself. You will fail at this. Keep trying.

People will come and go, but most importantly, they will come. You won't know when. It will work out, or it won't. Regardless, time will win. Go through every opening. Don't get lost. Do not be trapped by the lure of documentation or you will find yourself very far away looking down onto a tiny maze.

You will reach your goal, you will get smacked down, you will get back up. This is what to look out for when you think about Success. Tell the truth. Do it concisely. When it stops being fun, ask yourself why and fix it, and when you find yourself at the beginning of another new chapter, do it again.

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 05:21:00 +0000

Ghosts of Ruibulon

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 05:21:00 +0000

Ahoy!

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 19:10:00 +0000

Divine

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 01:41:00 +0000

A video narrative about my day.

Long Overdue

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 02:07:00 +0000

Lovely supper spread from a few weeks ago, post ACS Cheese Sale.

Women Before 10am

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 13:47:00 +0000

To you,
you mindless,
you yokels,
talking long and loud
in voices
that are busting
my lady parts
trying to impress.
My advice to you
is this:
SAY LESS.
You will seem smarter
and you may yet
prevent
your murder.

Animals

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 20:25:00 +0000

Have you forgotten what we were like then
when we were still first rate
and the day came fat with an apple in its mouth
    
it's no use worrying about Time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned some sharp corners
    
the whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn't need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water
    
I wouldn't want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me O you
were the best of all my days

- Frank O'Hara

okokokok

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 20:28:00 +0000

Someone got here by Googling 'i hate Shanghai'. Someone got to my tumblr by Googling 'women taking a huge poo'. I'm happy about the syntax in that search request.

This little guy had a busted wing. We found him playing Chinese chess looking over Lake Michigan.

Belated July 4

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 16:02:00 +0000

Now, these creepy dudes are perching on a residence in Morningside Heights, pointing at shit and leering. Look, he's got a chicken.

And Matt's got a dick balloon.

123456789

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 20:15:00 +0000

Is it ridiculous to think that humans are the only living organisms that have the capacity to understand what their greater purpose is in life? Is this what it means when we say dolphins are smarter than us, and they might just be extraterrestrials waiting for evolution to gift them some thumbs so they can officially take over the aquatic world? Humans just don't understand water at all, do they? Wasn't there a NASA study in 1997, or somewhere thereabouts that concluded that all the water on the planet came to earth in the form of ice comets? Water is not of this planet at all. why doesn't anybody take that fact seriously?We are 70% water. Does this mean we're not of this planet either? I do not beleive in science, in the same way that I do not beleive in conventionally accepted religion; both become a means of explaining away the unexplainable so everybody feels cozy and comfortable and they'll smile a little and slip on their Hello Kitty slippers and maybe pad off to the kitchen to put the kettle on for some tea or hot cocoa, with big marshmallows, the flavored gourmet type, and a little dish of speculoos. And yet! Things are not things! An atom can be two places at once, and can we really comprehend what that means, what this supposes?! What events in the past are true if everything from the past has been displaced? hOw cAN yoU bE SuRE yOu'Re eVEn rEAdInG tHiS rIgHt NoW?!! Mathematics I can get behind. And olfactory activity. These are the things parades, mini cupcakes, and cucumber sandwiches are made of.

Bjork said, "I don't think you can rehearse singing. It's like rehearsing sex, like going to your boyfriend and saying, OK, let's first rehearse for half an hour and then have some sex."

Happy Hour

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 01:49:00 +0000

1. I saw a woman with a child at the intersection and the way the little girl was looking up at her seemed so mature and so endearing and so knowing, I felt extremely touched by this moment and wanted to get a closer look. As I approached them, I saw the girl was actually a little person in her 30s and I felt really insane.

2. As people packed into the overstuffed train, I heard the following conversation, yelled:

"I can't get in, Bob. I cant get on."

"..."

"Bob, I can't get..." "I HEARD YOU."

"Okay, I'll be behind you. Bob. I'll be..." Doors shutting.

Bob proceeds to sigh and mock his pal loudly and self-consciously. I felt sad.

3. I keep my iPod down really low so I can fake pre-occupation and also take in what's around me. But the volume of the music makes it very surprising. I hear things I don't hear at full volume. It's nice.

4. Blonde bitch on the phone next to me, I wished severely to impale her face into the window, breaking both.

5. This wine tastes like vinegar and red.

Truth #1

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 20:42:00 +0000

Someday
someone
(not homeless)
will gift me
a poem
or a letter
he has written,
typed from
a typewriter
onto heavy kraft paper,
and also
an accompanying cd
of the sounds
the typewriter made
reverberating
while I try to fall asleep,
I am sure of it.

I Will Name Her Tuesday

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 20:18:00 +0000

I'm not usually a fan of small dogs, but dudes, I need a teacup yorkie right now. The KP is flying high on her rooftop laboratory perfecting the necessary splicing to create the long-anticipated corgi-wombat hybrid and when he is finally unveiled, I will balance atop his head the tiniest of teacup yorkies. World peace: achieved.

Come!

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 19:48:00 +0000

Love Incarnate

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 18:52:00 +0000

To all those driven berserk or humanized by love
this is offered, for I need help
deciphering my dream.
When we love our lord is LOVE.

When I recall that at the fourth hour
of the night, watched by shining stars,
LOVE at last became incarnate,
the memory is horror.

In his hands smiling LOVE held my burning
heart, and in his arms, the body whose greeting
pierces my soul, now wrapped in bloodred, sleeping.

He made him wake. He ordered him to eat
my heart. He ate my burning heart. He ate it
submissively, as if afraid as LOVE wept.

-Frank Bidart

The Lady's Murder

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 16:38:00 +0000

The King Princess adores a beautifully depicted story of a Lady (of whatever origins). She once was a Lady herself, you know.

Teacup Forest

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Tue, 13 May 2008 15:26:00 +0000

Headquarters

noreply@blogger.com (King Princess) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 18:02:00 +0000