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some random shots.

apologies everyone for the crappy blog/lack of updating thus far. school has been amazingly hectic, but all my major work was due this week and ITS DONE. so i'll be free to take pictures and post whenever i like. i'm going out of town for the week, but when i get back--get ready.

violence is glamour.

this week:
black, ripped tights, ugly boots, two finger rings, procrastination, semi precious weapons, hummus, green tea frappes, new shades, gray tshirts.

mind blown.

"trust is like a mirror. you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that motherfucker's reflection."


telephone was beyond.

crackwhores and florida state

so i have a shirt. its old and worn and makes my friend laugh with how ugly it is; this obviously makes it a favorite. its my florida state shirt, and when i stumbled across the picture above today, i was reminded of just how much i love mine.

my uncle went to florida state in the eighties. somehow my mom ended up with his shirt, and then twenty-or-so years later i got my hands on it. its just perfect, for lack of a better word. oversized, thick navy cotton, that soft feel that only comes from years of constant wear, the colors, the massive indian head, the holes lining the hem and sleeves. i live in this shirt.

i just scored another find a few weeks ago. i was helping mom organize her closet and discovered this baby:

team florida state surfing, another treasure from the eighties. huge indian surfer surrounded by acid pink? success.

on an entirely unrelated note, we had another bout of snow two days ago; this seems to be a record for south carolina. it came down in huge flakes for several hours, but unfortunately the ground was too warm for it to stick, leaving everything a big slushy mess. however, my friend callie and i were undeterred from taking obnoxious photos--my favorite past-time.

the challenge of the day was "crackwhore." i dug out my old dance makeup (glitter! shockingly tacky blush! bloodred lip pencils!) and we attempted to make each other over in the crackwhoriest fashion possible. however, we ended up looking like sad melting clowns, maybe with a bit of crack, but no matter. with our faces made and horrible sweats on (though i do believe the florida state shirt was present this day), we trekked throughout the house and the mess outside to take horrible pictures for our (and yours, now) amusement.

the lovely callie. wearing: hair in crappy bun, flower pin, dance necklace from years ago, black smudgy "cat eye," pink blush, red lips.

i'm working a similar look, but with eyeshadow "flames," and small red lips. and my bathroom. what photo skillzz.

such a cute grandma.

i don't really know what this was.

no direction.

"life is not about finding yourself, its about creating yourself."

who am i? that cliche, angsty teen question is something i've been thinking about a lot lately. i don't feel like i have a clear sense of who i am, and its disorienting. that is, i know exactly what i want to be, but i don't think i will ever get there.

i want to be carefree. i want to be effortless. i want to be a free spirit, just floating about on a whim, with no regard to logic or planning. i want to travel on a whim, take a road trip if i feel like it, go to a music festival and camp out, leave anxiety behind.

i want long wavy hair that looks easy no matter the weather. i link my looks to happiness, and i'm no where near what i feel like i should look like. i want to be slim-hipped and skinny, able to throw any old thing on and look amazing. i want wide-set eyes and a delicate mouth, a more-heart shaped face, one that doesn't look like a big rectangle with my hair pulled back. i want sharp shoulders. i want a tattoo on my ribcage, just one word. i want to be shorter. i don't. i want longer legs. i want lighter hair. i don't want my face to crunch up the way it does when i truly laugh. i want to look amazing in candid photos. i don't know what i want.

i feel older than my age. i feel younger than my age. i feel like i know everything. i feel like everyone knows more than i do. i feel like most people have already had so many more life experiences. i feel like i have had so many more life experiences. i feel like i know what i want to do, and i feel like i don't. i have goals, but they aren't crystal clear, and they're something i'm afraid i'm not cut out for. i resent people younger than me who have a much stronger sense of self.

i fear mediocrity. i fear being average. no one strives for second place, yet i have a feeling that i won't succeed. i feel like i'm selling myself short. i feel like i could have done so much better in school. i feel like my scores could have been higher. i feel like i should go to the best schools because i have potential, but i don't feel that i would enjoy myself. maybe i would. i don't give anything a chance. i feel like i so desperately want to get away, but i'm scared to be alone. i'm afraid of leaving old friends behind, which is such a stupid thing to do. i feel as though i'll burn out so quickly if i don't do something i like in life, but i worry that doing something i like as a career will diminish its value. if i even get there of course. someone has to work in the industry, someone has to claw their way up, so who says it can't be me? who says it can. i don't have the experience. i didn't choose to go to college in nyc, i'm not taking it seriously. i'll end up a nurse or something predictable, something i hate because i was afraid of putting myself out there.


pathetic? yes. but this was rather cathartic.
regular photos and such will return shortly.