January 2012
5 posts
the inside of frannie's body.
diariumcollective:
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I’m trying to get into grad school in Scotland. I wrote this story for the application process.
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even the way they say our name.
“Are you happy?” Tomak asks me. In the cave of the blankets his words are muffled and almost lost. But I can hear him even with my ears pressed into pillows. I can hear him even when he doesn’t speak.
“I’m happy,” I say.
“Are you sad?”
“Also sad.”
“Can one be two disparate things at the same exact moment?”
“I think one can,” I say formally, and giggle.
“Tell me why you’re happy. Then...
December 2011
4 posts
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a new year.
Tomorrow I leave to spend time in Los Angeles and San Francisco, then to New York for the first time since I’ve left, where I’ll board a ship that will take me to some islands I’ve never been.
2011 is wrapping up. I’ll turn 27 on the first of January.
I’ve written a book in the interim between New York and California, a lonely month spent in a Connecticut that...
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someday you'll come back to this.
You take for granted waking up. Going to school, talking to your friends. Watching a show on television or reading a book or going out to lunch.
You take for granted going to sleep at night, waking up the next day and remembering everything that happened to you before you closed your eyes.
We take it for granted.
We forget stuff along the way, sure, but mostly it’s little stuff. We forget...
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November 2011
4 posts
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i'm stuck here waiting for a passing feeling.
I have been absent lately because I quit my job and I finished the first draft of my first book and as much as I sometimes entertain the idea that these things are not related, of course they are related. And the only thing harder than writing a book is finishing it because you stare into your half-empty cup of coffee or your half-empty glass of wine (time of day depending) and you think to...
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moving sale!! use the code 25OFF for 25% off... →
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the last month.
There are books that will not be put away. Leaving New York hits me like a brick and I realize I do not have a home, again. Again I force myself to leave the second I start belonging somewhere. Again I do not let myself have an ounce of comfort. An ounce of sanity. An ounce of familiarity. Again I bring boxes home, again I drink old merlot, again I pack carefully at first, jerkily at...
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“As moulting time is for the birds - the time when they change their feathers -...”
– Vincent Van Gogh discussing his melancholy in a letter to his brother Theo, July, 1880.
October 2011
12 posts
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there are reasons why i left you.
And then I’ve made it to her door and it’s like I’ve made it to her door with no warning. What the fuck is this? A door? Whose fucking door is this? How did I get here and wasn’t I just in my car? And what the fuck do I do now. And has she seen me yet and can I just leave. Just slip away quietly. Leave a note taped to her door. I was here, briefly, but I had to leave. I didn’t want to go...
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I want to keep all this air for myself.
Mindy’s house is a small ranch, brown with no shutters. There are two identical flower beds out front but all the flowers are dead and what remains are brown shoots sticking up through a week old layer of crusted snow. I sit in my car, letting it idle, and I stare at the house and I try and figure it out. If I go in here, it’s decided. I can turn back now, I still have my fucking foot on the...
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amsterdam, observations.
in amsterdam the girls wait behind glass doors and the men walk from door to door and look at the girls and then they go inside and pay and they go behind a curtain and this is how they get prostitutes. the girls are lit up from behind by red lights and this is why it’s called the red light district. i thought it would be something less literal. something vague. something more like a...
“You need to stop that. We need to go. You’re going to make mommy lose her...”
– An actual thing I just heard a very pregnant woman say to her 3 year old daughter in the airport.
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Write down your secrets, send them far away. →
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Rings and a necklace, though.
My stoned neighbor: That is a nice brooch you are wearing, fair lady.
Me: Alas, but I am not wearing a brooch, good sir.
My stoned neighbor: And a good night to you, as well!
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You're never gonna get it right.
“Are you really dying?” I say.
“Yes! Jesus, fuck, do you think I’d lie about that,” she says. She jumps up onto the counter and sits there with her legs crossed.
“Are the pills going to help?” I ask. I’m looking around for more to drink but I don’t see anything.
“They’re not going to cure me, if that’s what you...
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Anonymous asked: you know me.
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dripping into autumn.
I. You dig a place for yourself, a place of aloneness, a place with no return address and no mailbox and no space at the post office for your letters or bills, and then you’re surprised when the mailman can’t find you. II. The feeling that without your effort, without your explicit messages or phone calls or carrier pigeons or smoke signals, all the people in your life would float away. And...
Also
Thanks! I forgot to say thanks. :)
justindcook asked: I love your tattoo! It's perfect. I have a Silverstein tattoo as well. It's the illustration from My Beard, so not quite is cool as yours. What prompted you to get that??
September 2011
15 posts
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I have to ask
Can somebody anybody tell me why Zooey D only posts pictures of herself on her tumblr? Or reblogs from HG? I’m combining this with my previous question re: am I the only girl who hates Hello Giggles and am one day planning on writing a Very Poignant Blog Entry regarding Fame, Being Pretty, and also the Oxford Comma (gotta keep it super relevant).
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I respected
Those girls who wore sweatshirts and uggs to classes from day one way more than those girls who dressed to the fucking nines on day one and then, from the second class on, came dressed in sweatshirts and uggs. Just be who you want to be from the get go.
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“Do you mind if I sit here? Because I can move if you mind. If you think...”
– On the 5.
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new york, in three parts.
I. you can sit next to me anytime you want, he says, and at first you smile because this is a funny thing to say. but at the same time you feel uncomfortable because it is not ok, as men, to always look at females as objects in which to stick your dick into. but as someone practicing that elusive “benefit of the doubt” you smile and you even laugh a little. a breathy laugh that does not reach...
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in which i explore the sexuality of a high school... →
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&c.
They told me it was around midnight, when my grandfather died. Almost four months now and it is not sad anymore as much as it is strange. An entire summer gone without him. I can still remember the exact way he said hello. Every conversation spent trickling backwards to when he was my age, in the Navy, all those times he sailed into the Brooklyn Navy Yard. My nieces are too young to ask where...
August 2011
12 posts
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Jane&Maggie. →
(everything blogged by Kate is mine)
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my dad is over here cracking himself up
because he’s sitting pretty in the middle of nowheresville, connecticut, and i’m in brooklyn at a kitchen table half-writing, half-glancing nervously outside every two minutes, looking at the universe like it is about to betray me.
he just sent me a text offering to pay for dinner and a broadway show for me and my fake sister, only good for tonite!!! lol.
Just watched this six times straight while... →
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“Any donations will be accepted. I take cash, umbrellas, food stamps, Mexican...”
– The loveliest subway peddler I’ve ever met.
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Sometimes I feel
Like the only girl on the Internet who generally really doesn’t like Hello Giggles. I’d like other opinions on this, because I personally find the content bland and poorly written and just basically uninteresting.
And I don’t know if I “get it.”
Prove me wrong? Agree with me?
Give me some opinions, people.
I’m on my phone right now and I’ll be...
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It is one thing when your enemy is your enemy. Another thing entirely when your enemy is your friend and neighbor.
My heart goes out to the people affected by the riots in England.
I think it is the worst sort of tragedy when we feed off of misplaced anger and aggression and destroy whatever we can reach, for nothing else but the temporary satisfaction we get from breaking something with our...
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people are just people / they shouldn't make you...
We went to a crowded, loud restaurant tonight and the girl and the boy sitting next to us were just happy, just those types of people where the boy says “How was your day?” and the girl says, “It was so great! Melanie brought me a cupcake!” and the boys says, “Wow! For your birthday?” and the girl says, “Yes!! Isn’t that so sweet! I didn’t...