image via churchyear.net
This has been Halloween
And to round out the night, here's one last treat...
Thank you for dropping in at Rococo and Caffeine tonight! I hope you're enjoying an entire pile of delicious sweets.
So You Think Zombies Can Dance...
This scene is from So You Think You Can Dance from a few years ago. I was impressed by the take on Roisin Murphy's "Rama Lama Bang Bang."
Ghoulishly Gorey
Edward Gorey's macabre illustrations and dark humor have always been a source of inspiration for me, and apparently PBS too.
My Favorite Halloween Song Ever
Hey guys, this is the second part of the Rococo and Caffeine Halloween Treat series, and I thought I'd share this one with you. Every year, I used to watch the Disney Halloween Trick or Treat after coming back from the neighborhood rounds with a bursting bag of candy and a smile on my face. This cartoon was the last part, and my favorite. Instead of posting the entire cartoon, I decided on sharing the song that gets stuck in my head at least 4 times a year. But what it says is true; you better not be stingy or your nightmares will come true!!
Pretty Pumpkins
To get you all into the pumpkin carving and decorating spirit!
Happy Halloween! All images via We Heart It, Martha Stewart, and Country living.
Happy Halloween! All images via We Heart It, Martha Stewart, and Country living.
Happy Halloween!
We hope your Halloween is full of happy hauntings, sweet treats, and spooky fun!
And if you're the one giving out candy, you can tune in to catch the Rococo and Caffeine Halloween Treat series; we'll be sharing fun things with you throughout the evening.
So it goes
Everything's Better with Bunnies
First of all, happy Halloween!
look what I got in the attic while seeking for my niece's halloween party at school :D Costume party is the best about Halloween is costume party. But I only found the ear part of this bunny costume so yea, I'm not posting any weird outfit in today's post, I'm just gonna retardly wear this for fun :))
look what I got in the attic while seeking for my niece's halloween party at school :D Costume party is the best about Halloween is costume party. But I only found the ear part of this bunny costume so yea, I'm not posting any weird outfit in today's post, I'm just gonna retardly wear this for fun :))
nyohoo! this is bunnymonster inside your closet looking for a pair of good shoes!!!
...lame. :))
Okay, it's midnight here, got to go. Tomorrow morning my band will be playing at Tangerang Clothing Expo, wish me luck :) xx
Siiidddonneeeee
This weekend, the beginning of exam block/end of study week, I have found myself in sunny Sydney, which is great. As a distraction. As a study opportunity it is rubbish, of course.
We brought our bikes to do some km's but the main even was Waz and Zoe's wedding yesterday at the Basin.
It was pretty awesome. There was a lot of alcohol consumed, hilarious tent-erections (we camped there overnight), fabulous food and some leeches. Well, the leeches were less awesome but it kind of served us right for going bush-walking at night really. In a cocktail dress and thongs. But hey, it was fun!
Anyhoo, should probably study. But probably won't...
We brought our bikes to do some km's but the main even was Waz and Zoe's wedding yesterday at the Basin.
It was pretty awesome. There was a lot of alcohol consumed, hilarious tent-erections (we camped there overnight), fabulous food and some leeches. Well, the leeches were less awesome but it kind of served us right for going bush-walking at night really. In a cocktail dress and thongs. But hey, it was fun!
Anyhoo, should probably study. But probably won't...
Learning How - Elizabeth Weld Nolan
In ``The Sword And The Stone’’ by T. H. White, Merlin the wizard is the teacher of the young King Arthur whom everyone calls Wart.
``Wart,’’ he says one day after the child has suffered a great disappointment, ``when you are sad, learn something.’’
I remember this always. My sadness antidote: Learning new moves. When someone I loved was very sick long ago, I went to the swimming pool and thrashed up and down inexpertly until I was breathless and better. The illness continued. Since I was a member of a small dance group, I felt my soul rise and my sanity return when I learned new choreography: Twist and drop, arabesque, skip, cross behind your partner, leap, fall, stride, tumble into a heap.
The choreographer: ``No, go back, like this: lyric, smooth and slow, NOW: run, jump, turn.’’ We ran, leapt, turned in patterns.
Sweat as blessing, sweat as communal wine, faces flushed, spirits high, we dried, changed into fresh clothes and went for tacos: the spice of being a team.
In San Francisco, I study tai chi where we are corrected weekly, refining, polishing. I have learned how to swim in the cold water of the Bay. Recently, I began quailing before the challenge of the cold, turning more to the pool, feeling sad not to swim in the open water, but at least I could swim through sunlight falling in ripples under the water as I do the crawl and the backstroke.
One day, as I was undulating in the water for fun, diving for children’s toys, I realized I was doing the dolphin kick, the basis of the butterfly. When I got out, I saw a group practicing the butterfly, their arms skimming across the top of the water to lift them forward – it IS like flying, a beautiful motion, free and strong.
``That’s it! I want to do that.’’ Exultation rose in me and I booked lessons. I was so happy I’m not done yet learning how! I’m working to obtain it: undulate, add arms, swing them back, undulate, kick-the-arms-in-kick-the-arms-out, my arms not quite strong enough yet, panting after half a lap but eager for the next one. I’m not sad anymore. And I went back into the Bay last week.
``Wart,’’ he says one day after the child has suffered a great disappointment, ``when you are sad, learn something.’’
I remember this always. My sadness antidote: Learning new moves. When someone I loved was very sick long ago, I went to the swimming pool and thrashed up and down inexpertly until I was breathless and better. The illness continued. Since I was a member of a small dance group, I felt my soul rise and my sanity return when I learned new choreography: Twist and drop, arabesque, skip, cross behind your partner, leap, fall, stride, tumble into a heap.
The choreographer: ``No, go back, like this: lyric, smooth and slow, NOW: run, jump, turn.’’ We ran, leapt, turned in patterns.
Sweat as blessing, sweat as communal wine, faces flushed, spirits high, we dried, changed into fresh clothes and went for tacos: the spice of being a team.
In San Francisco, I study tai chi where we are corrected weekly, refining, polishing. I have learned how to swim in the cold water of the Bay. Recently, I began quailing before the challenge of the cold, turning more to the pool, feeling sad not to swim in the open water, but at least I could swim through sunlight falling in ripples under the water as I do the crawl and the backstroke.
One day, as I was undulating in the water for fun, diving for children’s toys, I realized I was doing the dolphin kick, the basis of the butterfly. When I got out, I saw a group practicing the butterfly, their arms skimming across the top of the water to lift them forward – it IS like flying, a beautiful motion, free and strong.
``That’s it! I want to do that.’’ Exultation rose in me and I booked lessons. I was so happy I’m not done yet learning how! I’m working to obtain it: undulate, add arms, swing them back, undulate, kick-the-arms-in-kick-the-arms-out, my arms not quite strong enough yet, panting after half a lap but eager for the next one. I’m not sad anymore. And I went back into the Bay last week.
Learning How - E. D. James
Olivia needed to learn how to do something she had never before been able to master. She needed to learn how to lie. Not lie exactly, she told herself. More like hide, obfuscate. She needed to investigate the old gulag camp and didn’t want Scriabin and his men knowing exactly what she was doing. Alexis Moiseyev’s obsession with his father and the camp had gotten to her. Now that he was dead it was up to her to carry on and root out the secrets that were buried in that place. She sat for an hour before the evening meeting going over what she was going to say. She even looked in the mirror and practiced her lines. She wanted it to feel perfectly natural.
The five men sat with beers in front of them and their notebooks open at the table in the mess that they used for their meetings. Olivia came in last and sat down between Cooper and Suda. By now everyone had a routine place at the table. Olivia felt comfortable between these two.
“Alright, what did we learn today and what are we going to do tomorrow?” Semyon started off.
“We have all been punching out the things on our list from two days ago I think,” Cooper said.
Olivia felt her face flush and decided that she wanted to get her story out right away. The longer she sat at the table the more the tension would build up. “I spotted a crane pair heading up to the northeast section of the marsh this afternoon. They looked healthy, unlike those that we have seen from that area previously.”
“That’s interesting,” Boris said sitting forward in his seat. “If you could confirm that and show that they are nesting in that area it would put to rest Alexis’ concerns about that area.”
“Put to rest?” Semyon said.
Boris held out his arms, “Oh, I’m sorry, I suppose that seems a bit insensitive. I suppose I should say that we can eliminate that area as a concern if Olivia could document that pair.”
Olivia could feel sweat forming on her face and under her arms. Her ears felt like they were burning. She was glad she had worn her hair down. “I don’t know that this will eliminate any concerns, but it would make me feel better if I could find a nesting pair in that area. I will head up there early tomorrow and see if I can find them.”
“Do you want someone to go with you?” Semyon said.
“No, I’ll be fine. There is a good road up in that direction. I don’t think they are far off the track. The marsh is pretty narrow in that area.” The last thing she wanted was someone with her. She expected that Scriabin would have someone follow her, but she could keep the alpha radiation detector hidden from someone watching from a distance.
When she got back to her cabin an hour later Olivia was exhausted. She shut the door and leaned her back against it. Her legs were rubbery and her brain felt empty. The adrenaline had burned through her and left her an empty husk. It was all she could do to brush her teeth and crawl into her bunk.
The five men sat with beers in front of them and their notebooks open at the table in the mess that they used for their meetings. Olivia came in last and sat down between Cooper and Suda. By now everyone had a routine place at the table. Olivia felt comfortable between these two.
“Alright, what did we learn today and what are we going to do tomorrow?” Semyon started off.
“We have all been punching out the things on our list from two days ago I think,” Cooper said.
Olivia felt her face flush and decided that she wanted to get her story out right away. The longer she sat at the table the more the tension would build up. “I spotted a crane pair heading up to the northeast section of the marsh this afternoon. They looked healthy, unlike those that we have seen from that area previously.”
“That’s interesting,” Boris said sitting forward in his seat. “If you could confirm that and show that they are nesting in that area it would put to rest Alexis’ concerns about that area.”
“Put to rest?” Semyon said.
Boris held out his arms, “Oh, I’m sorry, I suppose that seems a bit insensitive. I suppose I should say that we can eliminate that area as a concern if Olivia could document that pair.”
Olivia could feel sweat forming on her face and under her arms. Her ears felt like they were burning. She was glad she had worn her hair down. “I don’t know that this will eliminate any concerns, but it would make me feel better if I could find a nesting pair in that area. I will head up there early tomorrow and see if I can find them.”
“Do you want someone to go with you?” Semyon said.
“No, I’ll be fine. There is a good road up in that direction. I don’t think they are far off the track. The marsh is pretty narrow in that area.” The last thing she wanted was someone with her. She expected that Scriabin would have someone follow her, but she could keep the alpha radiation detector hidden from someone watching from a distance.
When she got back to her cabin an hour later Olivia was exhausted. She shut the door and leaned her back against it. Her legs were rubbery and her brain felt empty. The adrenaline had burned through her and left her an empty husk. It was all she could do to brush her teeth and crawl into her bunk.
Freedom - Judy Albietz
Peter got up from his desk and walked over to the window. He hated it when the late summer sun blasted into his basement bedroom. As he pulled down the blind with one hand, he checked his cell phone calendar. It was September 2. Only a few days of freedom were left before school started.
He decided to spend his time designing new computer war game characters. First he would troll the Internet for recent world-wide coverage of wars and battles. He might be able to get some new ideas for soldiers, combat gear and other equipment. He set his hacking parameters to search for the newest data. Then he settled back to watch what popped up.
“Ho ho. Right!” he laughed as he looked at the time-stamps streaming across his screen. He couldn’t make out the identifier-codes for the individual files but he could read their dates. Obviously errors. He leaned forward to freeze the screen as he read one: April 5, 4008. He resumed the scan and stopped it again: May 12, 4009. Started again and stopped: September 2, 4009.
“Now that’s weird. Let’s see what you are,” he said as he pointed his mouse to the file icon flashing in its frozen position. He clicked. Instantly, the screen opened up on a bright sunny scene. In the distance were a bunch of animals—they looked like monkeys. This is no war! What’s this? Where is this?
It felt like a live streaming web-cam. Off to his right some of the creatures were sitting under trees. As he looked at them, the camera lens brought him up close. Those monkeys were wearing some sort of clothing. As he continued to stare, the scene shifted further to the right. Now he could see there were houses past the trees which were now in the middle of the screen. He looked over to his left and the same thing happened. The screen shifted to the left. It was as if he was looking around, right there, on the ground, wherever there was.
He decided to spend his time designing new computer war game characters. First he would troll the Internet for recent world-wide coverage of wars and battles. He might be able to get some new ideas for soldiers, combat gear and other equipment. He set his hacking parameters to search for the newest data. Then he settled back to watch what popped up.
“Ho ho. Right!” he laughed as he looked at the time-stamps streaming across his screen. He couldn’t make out the identifier-codes for the individual files but he could read their dates. Obviously errors. He leaned forward to freeze the screen as he read one: April 5, 4008. He resumed the scan and stopped it again: May 12, 4009. Started again and stopped: September 2, 4009.
“Now that’s weird. Let’s see what you are,” he said as he pointed his mouse to the file icon flashing in its frozen position. He clicked. Instantly, the screen opened up on a bright sunny scene. In the distance were a bunch of animals—they looked like monkeys. This is no war! What’s this? Where is this?
It felt like a live streaming web-cam. Off to his right some of the creatures were sitting under trees. As he looked at them, the camera lens brought him up close. Those monkeys were wearing some sort of clothing. As he continued to stare, the scene shifted further to the right. Now he could see there were houses past the trees which were now in the middle of the screen. He looked over to his left and the same thing happened. The screen shifted to the left. It was as if he was looking around, right there, on the ground, wherever there was.
Freedom - Jennifer Baljko
For the first time in a long while, absolute quiet surrounded her. Only the hum of the refrigerator reminded Luisa that she was still awake, and still waiting. These brief moments away from everyone, while mostly appreciated, also burdened Luisa. Trapped between despair and resolve, Fred’s absence made Luisa feel even more helpless, and acutely aware of her limitations.
Luisa had a room with an ocean view, but she sat with her back to the window. She liked watching the late day sun throw distorted shadows on the dark wood floors. The shadows danced gracefully, effortlessly. Luisa had moved like that, too. Before. Before the accident made her a permanent fixture in a wheelchair and stole her freedom.
Luisa had a room with an ocean view, but she sat with her back to the window. She liked watching the late day sun throw distorted shadows on the dark wood floors. The shadows danced gracefully, effortlessly. Luisa had moved like that, too. Before. Before the accident made her a permanent fixture in a wheelchair and stole her freedom.
Nemesis - Anna Teeples
His palms were sweating so much that the ink on the race form was starting to fade away. It had been a very long day with dust collecting around the collar of his neck sticking to the salty layer of stress that cover him. Jared had come to the track early today. Bonnie thought he was over helping Jim finish the cabinets for a remodel project that came through from a friend. He told Jim that he needed to spend the day driving over to Frankfort to see about a possible job. He was alone in his masterminded plan to dig himself out of this hole. When was the last time he slept through a night? He just needed some breathing room.
He liked the jockey on his horse. Kinship Ride. A tall chestnut thoroughbred that he knew was going to make a difference. Jared had his ups and downs all day and it came down to the final race of the day. It was only worth his while if he went big. Let it all ride on this one. This was his ticket back to sanity. He felt good. The trainer was well known for taking difficult and skittish horses and turning them into moneymakers. He just knew that victory beer would taste sweet later tonight.
The pack was tight as they rounded the corned for the final stretch. Stretching his neck he could see Kinship break towards the rail and the jockey press for that extra burst for the final 100 yards. The hooves were growing louder as they approached him. His mouth started to water as his hands systematically crunched the race form. It was still a tight race, the camera snapped. A photo finish is not how he wanted the race to end. The minutes ticked away like years. And the winner is…. Nemesis!
He liked the jockey on his horse. Kinship Ride. A tall chestnut thoroughbred that he knew was going to make a difference. Jared had his ups and downs all day and it came down to the final race of the day. It was only worth his while if he went big. Let it all ride on this one. This was his ticket back to sanity. He felt good. The trainer was well known for taking difficult and skittish horses and turning them into moneymakers. He just knew that victory beer would taste sweet later tonight.
The pack was tight as they rounded the corned for the final stretch. Stretching his neck he could see Kinship break towards the rail and the jockey press for that extra burst for the final 100 yards. The hooves were growing louder as they approached him. His mouth started to water as his hands systematically crunched the race form. It was still a tight race, the camera snapped. A photo finish is not how he wanted the race to end. The minutes ticked away like years. And the winner is…. Nemesis!
Freedom - Melody Cryns
When I trudged into that shabby little one-bedroom apartment in Newport, Oregon in June 1986, holding Jeremy who was just barely two and still in diapers, usually so light but he felt heavy while fast asleep slumped in my arms, I felt a strange, weird sense of freedom – here I was saddled with three young children, ages 2, 3 and 5 – and for now, we were stuck living in this small apartment that my mother and her friends had lovingly decorated for us – it was a tiny one-bedroom apartment with ugly brown linoleum floors – the bedroom was small – there was a crib with the side down and a bunk bed, top and bottom, for the three kids. My double bed was out in the living room covered with a beautiful bedspread all different shades of blues and torquoises, like the ocean we now lived so close to…there was a tiny child-sized wooden table with three small chairs for the kids and a cart table covered with a yellow plastic tablecloth in the small kitchen with the ancient stove and refrigerator – with plastic lawn chairs used as makeshift chairs.
I gratefully plopped down on the double bed in the living room still holding on to Jeremy. My mother held Melissa, who was still wide awake and looking around with her saucer-like gray blue eyes, still clutching the blue tote bag with her beloved doll dishes that she’d carried for 17 hours – all the way from Hamburg, West Germany to Newport, Oregon – it was a journey that seemed to take a lifetime and a day, but only took 17 hours and a couple of tantrums that didn’t occur until we hit O’Hare Airport in Chicago where we had a three hour layover. That’s where Melissa threw herself down on the floor in the middle of the airport with people passing by in all different directions – and she refused to walk one step further. Poor Melissa – she was only three after all, and two-year-old Jeremy needed to be in the stroller at all times, strapped in so that he couldn’t break loose because if he ran away, no one would ever catch him.
So, the journey was over and here we were in Newport, Oregon – life would be a struggle – and I had these three little kids. I breathed a great sigh of relief and lay down on the bed for a moment while my mom put Melissa down, who was still wide awake and Stevie bounced on the bed which woke Jeremy up and soon the three of them were running around in circles because in Germany, it was already the next morning and they had no idea that it was really 2:00 a.m.
Even my mother looked wide awake – We hadn’t seen her in a couple of years, perhaps it had been three.
“I’m going to make some tea for us,” Mom announced, heading for the old stove which already had a teapot on it – we always had teapots growing up, I thought – this looked exactly like the one that always sat on our stove when I grew up in San Francisco – a silver teapot with a black handle and it blew like a whistle when the water boiled. Tea was the answer to all of our ailments or issues – tea and toast. if we weren’t feeling well, that’s what we drank – hot tea with lots of sugar in it. If we were down and out, there was always a cup of tea.
Sitting on the bed and watching my mom fill the tea kettle, I had to smile as I remembered. Mom had even gone so far as to get one of those special filter things for tea leaves – and she had bought a brown bag filled with orange spice tea leaves that smelled heavenly when she opened up the bag.
We both sat at the makeshift table in the kitchen while the kids jumped on the bed and “exerted their energy,” as my mother laughingly said – we sipped on hot, orange spice tea – super spicy just the way I always loved it.
The reality of the situation hadn’t sunk in yet – I was a single mom with three kids – I had no job and very little money, and I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do. But for now, at this moment, sipping on hot orange spice tea with my mother, I felt weirdly free.
I gratefully plopped down on the double bed in the living room still holding on to Jeremy. My mother held Melissa, who was still wide awake and looking around with her saucer-like gray blue eyes, still clutching the blue tote bag with her beloved doll dishes that she’d carried for 17 hours – all the way from Hamburg, West Germany to Newport, Oregon – it was a journey that seemed to take a lifetime and a day, but only took 17 hours and a couple of tantrums that didn’t occur until we hit O’Hare Airport in Chicago where we had a three hour layover. That’s where Melissa threw herself down on the floor in the middle of the airport with people passing by in all different directions – and she refused to walk one step further. Poor Melissa – she was only three after all, and two-year-old Jeremy needed to be in the stroller at all times, strapped in so that he couldn’t break loose because if he ran away, no one would ever catch him.
So, the journey was over and here we were in Newport, Oregon – life would be a struggle – and I had these three little kids. I breathed a great sigh of relief and lay down on the bed for a moment while my mom put Melissa down, who was still wide awake and Stevie bounced on the bed which woke Jeremy up and soon the three of them were running around in circles because in Germany, it was already the next morning and they had no idea that it was really 2:00 a.m.
Even my mother looked wide awake – We hadn’t seen her in a couple of years, perhaps it had been three.
“I’m going to make some tea for us,” Mom announced, heading for the old stove which already had a teapot on it – we always had teapots growing up, I thought – this looked exactly like the one that always sat on our stove when I grew up in San Francisco – a silver teapot with a black handle and it blew like a whistle when the water boiled. Tea was the answer to all of our ailments or issues – tea and toast. if we weren’t feeling well, that’s what we drank – hot tea with lots of sugar in it. If we were down and out, there was always a cup of tea.
Sitting on the bed and watching my mom fill the tea kettle, I had to smile as I remembered. Mom had even gone so far as to get one of those special filter things for tea leaves – and she had bought a brown bag filled with orange spice tea leaves that smelled heavenly when she opened up the bag.
We both sat at the makeshift table in the kitchen while the kids jumped on the bed and “exerted their energy,” as my mother laughingly said – we sipped on hot, orange spice tea – super spicy just the way I always loved it.
The reality of the situation hadn’t sunk in yet – I was a single mom with three kids – I had no job and very little money, and I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do. But for now, at this moment, sipping on hot orange spice tea with my mother, I felt weirdly free.
Traveling Back - Kate Bueler
People like me to travel back with them. Travel back in the moment they just had. They just tried to have. Or process. It wasn’t long ago I walked upon 18th street in between the birite- which I heart- the pizza place everyone else does- and tartine which I have been known to have love affairs with. When a man starting saying I can’t believe this- I can’t believe this- Oh my God. I am not green in the city world no but not jaded enough to look back. Look back to see what might be this guys worry. Because I roll with no device in my ear. No I pod to google map me away no. I hear more than I should. Like then. Travel back with me he throws my way. And I stop. I stop and look at him. Then he is talking to me. He isn’t the typical crazy you usually encounter, he has a laptop carrier and is semi dressed up but reeks of alcohol. I just dumped him. I can’t believe. I can’t believe. I wanted to but still. I am standing traveling back into his world. For a moment. I wanted to but he doesn’t get it. Heartache. Heartache. I get it. I hate it. I understand it. Goodbyes fucking suck.
So when he looks at me and says- let’s hug it out, without a moments options of what I should do or should I be doing I am hugging this man on the corner of 18th and guerrero pastry smells surround us, cars whizzing by and we hold each other for a moment. We hugged it out. And then said goodbye. My friends said to me only to you shit like that happens. True. Only to me. Because I travel, I travel in way that my eyes and ears are open. And I can’t help but listen even when I am not supposed to. This has happened for as long as I can remember. For others, it might feel strange but it has been me. And my walk on this pavement for so long.
So last night as I tried to park fit the corolla in a spot maybe too small. I asked the dude who came out of the house. If it was okay. The giants had just won. He wore all black. And said no worries lady. Ya know. Boom. Too close. I was on the phone. He spoke into it. And my best friend said only bueler, only people like that talk to you. We are laughing and now he is back. Back he is walking. Listen lady better yet how bout you come with me to the liquor store. Me now realizing he is drunk. He grabs my elbow and pinches it. No thanks. Lame he says as he proceeds to jaywalk across guerrero in all black the cab screaming at him to move. I got to get out of here. I say to her. To my companion on the phone. That dude is drunk and actually touched me and pinched me. Fucking weirdo. He didn’t turn around because I wowed him, instead, it was because his original location of liquor store was closed.
Good thing he didn’t come back into the phone I say. I wouldn’t have to kick his drunk ass. How with a computer bag, yoga mat, and purse? No I put those down. And then my lemon dropped onto the street. Only to me. Because I travel and talk and make friends and find weirdos to entertain me. I travel back to where they live just for a moment. And then I proceed on my way. Picking up that lemon. Dirtied by the street.
So when he looks at me and says- let’s hug it out, without a moments options of what I should do or should I be doing I am hugging this man on the corner of 18th and guerrero pastry smells surround us, cars whizzing by and we hold each other for a moment. We hugged it out. And then said goodbye. My friends said to me only to you shit like that happens. True. Only to me. Because I travel, I travel in way that my eyes and ears are open. And I can’t help but listen even when I am not supposed to. This has happened for as long as I can remember. For others, it might feel strange but it has been me. And my walk on this pavement for so long.
So last night as I tried to park fit the corolla in a spot maybe too small. I asked the dude who came out of the house. If it was okay. The giants had just won. He wore all black. And said no worries lady. Ya know. Boom. Too close. I was on the phone. He spoke into it. And my best friend said only bueler, only people like that talk to you. We are laughing and now he is back. Back he is walking. Listen lady better yet how bout you come with me to the liquor store. Me now realizing he is drunk. He grabs my elbow and pinches it. No thanks. Lame he says as he proceeds to jaywalk across guerrero in all black the cab screaming at him to move. I got to get out of here. I say to her. To my companion on the phone. That dude is drunk and actually touched me and pinched me. Fucking weirdo. He didn’t turn around because I wowed him, instead, it was because his original location of liquor store was closed.
Good thing he didn’t come back into the phone I say. I wouldn’t have to kick his drunk ass. How with a computer bag, yoga mat, and purse? No I put those down. And then my lemon dropped onto the street. Only to me. Because I travel and talk and make friends and find weirdos to entertain me. I travel back to where they live just for a moment. And then I proceed on my way. Picking up that lemon. Dirtied by the street.
Sorrow - Barbara Jordan
Her sorrow was from loss. She couldn't remember a time when she didn't feel as if someone or something was leaving but she held on to pictures --in her mind mostly-- of happier times, so that she could feel some tether holding her. She needed an anchor, something to remind her that she should continue. Of falling in love, of stepping off the plane in Madrid as a newlywed, or holding her newborn for the first time. There was so many, really enough for a lifetime, but there were days when her sorrow felt like a tunnel, so deep that there was no way out.
Her shrink asked her when she felt her life reverse--when was the time when the loss began to beat out the joy. This was always a hard one for her to answer, so he kept asking, persistently, and she never got over the feeling that she was trying to ace some kind of test question. That if she answered wrong, a buzzer would sound and she'd have to go back to the beginning and start all over again. This was not appealing, because she was too tired; it all just seemed like way too much work. So she never answered the question.
Her shrink asked her when she felt her life reverse--when was the time when the loss began to beat out the joy. This was always a hard one for her to answer, so he kept asking, persistently, and she never got over the feeling that she was trying to ace some kind of test question. That if she answered wrong, a buzzer would sound and she'd have to go back to the beginning and start all over again. This was not appealing, because she was too tired; it all just seemed like way too much work. So she never answered the question.
Traveling Back - Maria Robinson
You want to go back to Paris. Or more precisely, you want to relive the week you spent with Angelo, an aging academic in a rented loft overlooking the Pont Neuf. He was a worse for wear 65 and you were 40 for those six delicious days on the Ile de la Cite.
The huge 19th century door at 75 Quai des Orfevres had been preserved by the disputing heirs who owned the property. The animus was so deep that the building had been literally cut in half with thin staircases on each side of a thin dividing wall. But the cut through floor and a half flat was luminous, in the day as the unobstructed sun piled in over the the bridge and at night at the "bateaux mouches", the floating tourist boats, blasted their cinematic lights.
You walked all the way with A. to the Marche Bio in the Raspail, actually reliving your San Francisco life at the Ferry Plaza Market. That night you cooked fava beans, made a mesclun salad and grilled the last briny Brittany shrimp that you literally had to snatch off the fishmonger's ice.
You made love on the sofa overlooking the Seine and later walked to St. Eustace on the Right Bank to watch the rollerblading kids and have a nightcap of champagne.
Truth is, you're afraid to go back. You have to create a new story and have a new love even though you'll walk across the "9th bridge" and look up at a certain window on a certain floor.
The huge 19th century door at 75 Quai des Orfevres had been preserved by the disputing heirs who owned the property. The animus was so deep that the building had been literally cut in half with thin staircases on each side of a thin dividing wall. But the cut through floor and a half flat was luminous, in the day as the unobstructed sun piled in over the the bridge and at night at the "bateaux mouches", the floating tourist boats, blasted their cinematic lights.
You walked all the way with A. to the Marche Bio in the Raspail, actually reliving your San Francisco life at the Ferry Plaza Market. That night you cooked fava beans, made a mesclun salad and grilled the last briny Brittany shrimp that you literally had to snatch off the fishmonger's ice.
You made love on the sofa overlooking the Seine and later walked to St. Eustace on the Right Bank to watch the rollerblading kids and have a nightcap of champagne.
Truth is, you're afraid to go back. You have to create a new story and have a new love even though you'll walk across the "9th bridge" and look up at a certain window on a certain floor.
Le Soleil.
"Keep your sunglasses, do hide my face.
My eyes will tell the tale.
I’ll take it back down when we were young..."
Centro blue chiffon dress, Centro black mary-jane pumps, thrifted red blazer
A few weeks ago I shop at Centro and got a bunch of gooood stuffs.
It have been a hectic month so sorry I just post it now. Look what I got:
I found this bold mary-jane pumps (semi platform, i think).
I've wanted this for a long time, so I bought two of em.
They both come in classy colors, black & vintage brown. LUCKY ME.
dashing shoes. I love. :)
And... I'm not exactly a make-up lover (and I hate lipbalm or anything sticks to my lips,
yea i'm such a primitive -_-), but I found Revlon booth at Centro and I cant help to buy these lipsticks
with nude colors and it's matte so it feels like im not wearing any. Hehee :p
I bought the body shop's compact powder too for daily use. :)
And last but not least, I registered for Centro member,
they give advantages such as discounts, points & other promotions. Yay! Thanks Centro. :)
++ Most played song this week: Le Soleil - The Filthy Youth. Ed's voice is doughty as hell :p
Stay Strong, Indonesia.
Today, 2 huge disasters hit Indonesia, and it's causing so many victims, and keep increasing till now.
Earthquake & tsunami in Mentawai, Mount Merapi eruption, flood's sinking Jakarta,
and still commemorating flash flood in Papua a few weeks ago.
We're all shrouded in sorrow.
Let us all pray that Indonesia may recover soon and be revived, in all aspects.
Indonesia, the nation I love, please stay strong. :'(
True Joy - Soul Joy...
There is a Chassidic saying, “Joy breaks all boundaries”.The Talmud recounts a story that once a great sage in the marketplace encountered Elijah the prophet and asked him, “Was there anyone who was assured his place in the world to come?” Elijah answered in the negative. Meanwhile, two brothers entered the marketplace and Elijah pointed to them saying, “They merit the world to come.” The Rabbi walked over to them and asked, “May I ask, what do you do?” They answered, “We are joyful people, and we make those who are sad happy. If we hear about an argument, we make peace using humor between those quarreling.”
What does it mean to be happy, and how do we achieve this?
First, let me make a clear distinction between pleasure and genuine joy. Unhappy people, looking for joy, run to a good restaurant or movie or take an extravagant vacation to boost the happy hormones, but . it doesn’t work. They get fatter, wasted time and money, and eventually get back again into their old rut.
Pleasure is temporary. The real McCoy – long lasting – deep happiness and joy is an experience and a state of being where superficial experiences are irrelevant. That’s right, it almost doesn't matter what’s going on, on the outside, when true joy is attained.
Occasionally, a ramp that can lead to inner joy, or can draw out and enhance true happiness is when we are enjoying ourselves on the exterior superficially. However that experience must be one that is connected to something deeper than just doing it to “feel” good.
The world, i.e. materialism and consumerism for the most part can only offer the temporary sort of pleasure and happiness. More stuff does NOT equal more happiness. By its very nature, the property of physical existence is fleeting. It has a time when it (or its style) came into existence, and it has a time when it ceases to exist. Someone who only lives in a world of money and existence is “always” bouncing from one thing to the next, hydroplaning on the surface, with small or sometimes large drops and empty holes in between.
So what’s the answer? Where’s the real joy?
In the Book of Psalms, written by King David, he tells us, “Strength and joy are in the place of G-d ..The joy of G-d is your strength…and Strength and joy are in His place.” There is no escaping this. Real inner strength and moral fortitude; real genuine long-lasting, deep-reaching joy is in G-d, and pursuing a G-dly life. Living a G-dly life means imbuing our lives with the character and wishes of G-d.
King David had it all. After all, he was a wealthy individual with lots of power at his disposal. Yet, he also had a lot of challenges. Family, close confidants and neighbors continuously confronted, defied and challenged him in every single respect. A man who had it all teaches us, “Don’t put your trust in princes in the son of man.”
Inner strength, one that lasts under all circumstances and is never extinguished; true joy, comes to a person who lives a life connected and influenced by the spark of G-d within, the soul. Only by living a soul-driven life can a person be truly joyous and happy.
To be continued…
Eep to the scale of massive!
I dropped my iPhone while buying some communal red frogs to disperse amongst my hungry, hypoglycemic, sugar-craved colleagues on Saturday.
So the screen went white...and didn't come back to life. Though I am pretty sure it's just in some coma and not completely brain-dead as I did have a few message beeps.
No big loss really, I was waiting for the occasion when I mucked it up and dropped it in the toilet/swamp/river/microwave etc. However, despite me being largely 'non-fussed' about my iPhone, I am now living the reality of using a plastic piece of sh*t Samsung for a phone, whose clicky-wheel doo-dad doesn't work, and every time a button is hit it seems to yelp in differing tones.
Furthermore, it's only today, when planning some long solo kiloburgers that I realise that I now have no iPod!*
Epic fail. I scrummaged around the house for some old technology I could use. I found about four iPods. It's a worry. However, the only one that was responsive was also the one that would hold about 4-songs.
Yep, the 1Gb shuffle (larger than actual size).
Requires frequent song rotation to avoid beat-fatigue.
*The controversy of riding with music will be explored further in another post. Or it may not. We'll see how productive study week/holidays becomes.
So the screen went white...and didn't come back to life. Though I am pretty sure it's just in some coma and not completely brain-dead as I did have a few message beeps.
No big loss really, I was waiting for the occasion when I mucked it up and dropped it in the toilet/swamp/river/microwave etc. However, despite me being largely 'non-fussed' about my iPhone, I am now living the reality of using a plastic piece of sh*t Samsung for a phone, whose clicky-wheel doo-dad doesn't work, and every time a button is hit it seems to yelp in differing tones.
Furthermore, it's only today, when planning some long solo kiloburgers that I realise that I now have no iPod!*
Epic fail. I scrummaged around the house for some old technology I could use. I found about four iPods. It's a worry. However, the only one that was responsive was also the one that would hold about 4-songs.
Yep, the 1Gb shuffle (larger than actual size).
Requires frequent song rotation to avoid beat-fatigue.
*The controversy of riding with music will be explored further in another post. Or it may not. We'll see how productive study week/holidays becomes.
Lookbook for EGO, 1st Collection. :)
..Just done a lookbook for Ego,
very 1st Ready-To-Wear collection...
Thank you and congrats, Geofanny! :)
yea, here's one uprising young designer
with unique, sleek, minimalist concept... fabs.
very 1st Ready-To-Wear collection...
Thank you and congrats, Geofanny! :)
yea, here's one uprising young designer
with unique, sleek, minimalist concept... fabs.
to buy these affordable collections, just go straight into their facebook page,
or email ego.fashionline@yahoo.com. :)
**********
..anyway, so great to have kak Diana Rikasari wearing Zebra Shirt from my shop, RIOTOUS :)
if you want this too, go to RIOTOUS // Riots Barbie, and shop!
ps: it's only about few pieces left, so hurry, limited stock ;)
or email ego.fashionline@yahoo.com. :)
**********
..anyway, so great to have kak Diana Rikasari wearing Zebra Shirt from my shop, RIOTOUS :)
if you want this too, go to RIOTOUS // Riots Barbie, and shop!
ps: it's only about few pieces left, so hurry, limited stock ;)
BLOGGER YARD SALE -- fX Mazee :)
So, the bazaar yesterday was A BLAST! It supposed to start at 4 PM, but at 3 PM the booths are all loaded with bunches of stylish peeps :) at first I was not expecting the crowd is gonna be so huge and got me soo busy that I really don't have a minute just to have a drink, or to take some photos, not even ONLY to grab my phone and tweet! well, you can imagine as I'm a hyper-tweet person, the crowd is crazy.... I had to take the photos before and after the mayhem :)) you gals rock! :D
my booth, before the bazaar :)
busyyy :)
Kak Heidy from Fashion Maverick :)
Retail Therapy's booth
Michelle's booth... the yellow bag is now mine yay :))
Mikha! such a really loooong time :))
Michelle Koesnadi ;) finally met her for the first time after chatting thru blog, haha!
and let me post some photos from the other bloggers who attend this yard sale yesterday:
from here, here, & here, check check! :)
This photo's taken candid by MICHELLE from Glister Blister.
Super lovely! *you have a sense of Jak and Jill, hihi :)*
I picked this Batik for it's very vibrant colors & motives.
Bold and beautiful :)
and yes, yesterday was so crowded so I don't have time to see & shop at Diana, Bethanny, Heidy, and Michelle's booth :( when the bazaar's over, the stuffs are all sold out, leaving no trace. Haha. But we had sooo much fun! THANKS A LOT for all of YOU who came yesterday! Thank youu Nadia, Titin, Gilvina, Gen, kak Linda, Bella, mas Rangga, kak Trisca, kak Rahne, kak Rini, and Mikha, for coming over and shop. And SURELY, thanks to Kak Diana, fX & Girlfriend for make all these happens, thanks Michelle, Bethanny & kak Heidy. So glad! :D
I feel sorry for some of you who can't come, or live outside Jakarta. :( You might missed all of the discount price and the fun mayhem yesterday, but you could still GET THE STUFFS by shopping here: Facebook. YAY! Don't forget to join, so we can send you message anytime we held bazaar / other cool fashion events too. :)
******Anyway, just had a photo shoot for Gazelle Rockshop: YeahRight. Here's one of em :)
and check out their newest band merch, CEMETERY DANCE CLUB x Yeah Right:
..It's an indie dead metal / trance band. My brother plays the synthesizer.
Yea, you REALLY should check out their myspace & site too. Cool band :) Xx
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