boner zone.

So, last night when I got off work I plopped on my couch, opened my GRE book and turned on the TV for some background noise. That GRE book was closed in minutes because Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations was on and he was in Peru. So much for studying. It was so hot in my living room that I passed out fully clothed into a deep slumber. Like some R.E.M. shit. Anyways, I blame this for the crazy dreams I had about Anthony Bourdain last night. I can't. He's so sexy and old. Is this creepy? I don't care. He wanted me to meet his ex-wife and children because he was going to tell them we were moving into an apartment together. I told my mom and she said "Cha-ching." God, why can't this really be my life?


the future freaks me out.

Crunch time is upon me. Crunch time to crack open my GRE book, actually study for that shit, almost time for my Russian classes to start, which are three nights a week and two hours each night. I am going to somehow need to find the time to work out, which will probably result in me having to cough up another forty dollars a month for a premium membership at the gym, because now my student membership only allows me to go during off-peak hours. So, I have to wait around at my house until 7:30 to go to the gym every night. What the cock is that shit?! Whatever. Well, regarding all the insanity coming to a head in my life, I'd say the gym is probably the last thing I should actually worry about.

September, October and November will be filled with applications, school visits, hopefully some interviews, ICELAND RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ALL, personal statements, getting my recommendations, shelling out so many bills, etc. I've narrowed down the schools I want to apply to to five, which I think is a high enough number that I will at least get into one of them. I'm going for UPenn, UMD, UVA, UNC: Chapel Hill and U Indiana: Bloomington. I really don't want to move to Indiana, but apparently Bloomington is Hipsterville, USA and the Russian History program is sweet.

Lately, I've downloaded new music and as usually is the case with that, I have been obsessing and exclusively listening to like five artists. I bit the bullet and downloaded the new(er) Paramore CD (OBSESSED) and Passion Pit. Also, I'm very into Yeasayer's Odd Blood album, Broken Bells, and the Fratellis - such good music to work out/dance to.

I wish I had more to say.
I dreamed about Microsoft Excel Spreadsheets last night. Kill me.




I hate trying to get back into shape. It's like the hardest thing in the world, whereas getting out of shape is a piece of cake... literally.

WAH NAILS IN LONDON, I need to be inside you.






Give me every single one of these right now.

as far as i'm concerned, this song is perfect.

Bright Eyes: Landlocked Blues

If you walk away, I'll walk away.
first tell me which road you will take.
I don't want to risk our paths crossing someday,
so you walk that way, I'll walk this way.

And the future hangs over our heads
and it moves with each current event
until it falls all around like a cold steady rain.
Just stay in when it's lookin' this way.

And the moon's laying low in the sky
forcing everything metal to shine
and the sidewalk holds diamonds like a jewelry store case;
they argue, "Walk this way." "No, walk this way."

And Laura's asleep in my bed
as I'm leaving she wakes up and says,
"I dreamed you were carried away on the crest of a wave.
Baby, don't go away, come here!"

And there's kids playing guns in the street
and one's pointing his tree branch at me.
So I put my hands up, I say, "Enough is enough,
If you walk away I'll walk away."
And he shot me dead!

I found a liquid cure
for my landlocked blues.
It will pass away like a slow parade.
It's leaving but I don't know how soon.

And the world's got me dizzy again.
You'd think after 22 years I'd be used to the spin
and it only feels worse when I stay in one place,
so I'm always pacing around or walking away.

I keep drinking the ink from my pen
and I'm balancing history books up on my head,
but it all boils down to one quotable phrase.
"If you love something give it away."

A good woman will pick you apart;
a box full of suggestions for your possible heart.
But you may be offended and you may be afraid,
but don't walk away, don't walk away.

We made love on the living room floor
with the noise in the background from a televised war
and in the deafening pleasure I thought I heard someone say,
"If we walk away, they’ll walk away."

But greed is a bottomless pit
and our freedom's a joke we're just taking a piss
and the whole world must watch the sad comic display.
If you're still free start runnin' away
'cause we're comin' for ya!

I've grown tired of holding this pose.
I feel more like a stranger each time I come home,
so I'm making a deal with the devils of fame
sayin' let me walk away, please.

You'll be free child once you have died
from the shackles of language and measurable time
and then we can trade places, play musical graves
till then walk away, walk away, walk away, walk away.

So I'm up at dawn, putting on my shoes.
I just want to make a clean escape.
I'm leaving but I don't know where to.
I know I'm leaving but I don't know where to.


paloma faith mini-post

So, Paloma Faith is a British singer and I really hate her music, but sometimes she looks really god damn cool.

But then, other times she looks completely terrible and insane. Case in point:

Unlike love-of-my-life Katy Perry, who manages to always look completely adorable.

Ugh, swooning.

24 ounces to freedom

24 oz of Wawa Hazelnut coffee that is. Feeling like my eyelids weigh about 10 pounds each this morning. I don't even recall when I fell asleep last night, but I know I was woken up by a sexy boyfriend and then by said sexy boyfriend snoring like a lawnmower. It probably doesn't help my eye situation that I have no makeup on or that I spent about 15 minutes last night petting Hubert... and then rubbed my eyes. I WILL NEVER LEARN. C'est la vie, though. At least things with the man seem to be going in the right direction; finally don't have that terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Oh Jess, I know I have probably mentioned this in passing before, but Florence and the Machine is playing Terminal 5 in NYC on November 1st and 2nd. Do you want to buy a ticket and come with me? I feel like you would have a good while to decide, because I doubt they will sell out already (though, that's what happened with Edward Sharpe, those motherfuckers). Just let me know!

So, this is mainly going to be dedicated to Iceland and me finally getting a grip on the fact that I'm actually going there and getting super stoked because it is in less than two months. Of course, all I'm really thinking about is clothes and food (because I am a MONSTER).

Average temperatures in Reykjavik, by month:

So it's going to be in the 50's and 40's when I'm there (mindfuck: TIGHTS AND SCARF WEATHER) and I'm trying to pack as lightly as possible because Lauren and I are spending the majority of our stay in the Reykjavik Hostel, where you can only store your belongings in lockers. So I guess the outfit of choice is jeans (kill me), long-sleeved shirt, grey leather jacket, scarf, beret all day? I'm okay with this.

I need this:

I also am fawning over so many fall/winter shoes.
Definitely have decided I need combat boots or whatever these would be known as.

But, I think my heart and soul is set on these babies:

And just to amp myself up even more:

Reykjavik is so colorful!

The Blue Lagoon, making Yellowstone look like child's play.



things i want to make/eat

If only life was like that scene in The Sweetest Thing. "OH, I had all the calories removed for you. Would you mind if I went down on you again while you ate this gigantic tub of delicious ice cream?"
Alas, it is not and will never be, but these things will always look (and probably be) totally fucking delectable.











do you believe what you're saying?

The only sound my computer makes is the beep from the motherboard when I attempt to exit a document without saving it beforehand. I have attached speakers, but to no avail. The sound settings say that it has been disabled. Do you know what you're doing to me with this shit, job? So, now I have resorted to listening to my Ipod with one headphone in, playing "Satin in a Coffin" and "Black Cadillacs" on repeat, because I am in a fit of blind disappointed, confused, frustrated blind rage.

And we were done, done, done
With all the fuck, fuck, fuckin' around.
You were so true to yourself.
You were true to no one else.
Well I should put you in the ground.

I've got the time, I got the hours,
I got the days, I got the weeks.
I could say to myself
I've got the words but I can't speak.
Well I was done, done, done
With all the circ, circ, circlin' round.

I didn't die and I ain't complainin'.
I ain't blamin' you.
I didn't know that the words you said to me
Meant more to me than they ever could you.
I didn't lie and I ain't sayin'
I told the whole truth.
I didn't know that this game we were playin'
Even had a set of rules.

It really upsets me that I identify so much with all of these lyrics today. But, that's the way that it has to be when you think you know someone and then you don't. And you think about them with other people, maybe because you really believe it's true or maybe because you overthink and overthink and like to drive yourself insane, because secretly you like being unhappy. Because then at least you will have something to complain about. And maybe that's why you keep going for the same person, one after the next, even though you manage to convince yourself that it is TOTALLY different. It's a bunch of utter bullshit and always ends up with two steps forward, 160,000 steps back and it's not even worth it.


hilarity shall ensue.

So, despite it being a Monday and despite my major trust issues and the little green monster on my shoulder attempting to ruin my mood, things are pretty okay. I've officially become obsessed with brown rice vegetable rolls from Shop Rite and will eat them every single day until I can no longer bear the sight of them. In other news, Katy Perry bikini pictures make me happy, because she is NOT perfect and because she is smoking. And because I am in love with her. But, these comics and spoof news articles on The Onion have been totally making my day.

AND my dress finally came in the mail!

FAVORITE. This comic, not what is mentioned, quite clearly.

Jess, this is clearly you and me.

This reminds me so much of the motel room in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. "Please, don't mind the bedbugs, graffiti penis on the wall and the missing peep hole stuffed with toilet paper."