this evening has been quite unproductive
can't think straight or concentrate
am missing some twenty sheets of paper i'd like back but fear are gone
those have been some object of obsession, but hardly the root..
my mind is blank
much rather be reading (than writing this paper), i can't seem to stay focused.
plus am so intrigued by the non-solutions presented, talking to cats and running away.
this weekend the siblings return and it seems no time since i've seen them last.
ben is bringing dvds. annie: smiles and fifty rejection letters.
spring break makes me curious and it seems so far away (maybe it isn't?)
circles are developing under my eyes and the next few weeks seem unbearably daunting (it's not that i'm resistant to ALL change): i've successfully packed one box & changed the light bulb in the lamp.
there is so much dread in every supposed intention.
i'd like to see tideland.
lyrics lyrics symbolism.
"she hates me, too."
"yeah, she does."

cooking is great (especially with friends). we made lots of good things.
this afternoon felt like sunday.
marcovaldo, to read to again when looking for bedtime stories.
i have a headache.
i don't want to move into the suburbs.
my house is on a hill and there are no sidewalks. help. me.

next year is looming and as much as i want it, it terrifies me immensely.
where am i going? where (???) is the scary bear.
once i get there, blah blah.
when claire and i were on the swingset, i couldn't give a straight answer. and still here in this room, it's impossible to say for sure. should i be the new katie-o and take after my grandfather's mother? or, should i flee the east forever? will i have an option?
decisions, decisions, decisions. blecch for waiting. but i can't help waiting for things (though i know it's not healthy). waiting for may, april, next weekend, waiting and wishing my life away. graduation is unnerving. it's too easy to get depressed in the present and, in concession, sometimes productivity doesn't ward off sadness.
(not even trying to pack: don't wanna go to new-brick non-functional castle with extra acres)

looking back, what was last year? i barely even believe it happened (especially when i think of all our desperation, the hillside confessions of inadequacy).
i think i'm afraid of sex, p.s.

my wrench is your radiator.
please don't die.

sigh, ginny, one day, one day.

how many hours did THIS take? who knows. far too many.
all the figuring and measuring and trial and error and blah dee frickin' JEBUS.

if only i was ready tomorrow to join luxby on her snarky kidnapping and then onto the funhouse. alas, there's absolutely no way. the three out of five mabon sisters who have fallen asleep on the couch in the lawrenceville living room were pleasant dinner conversation. i am still wholly nervous i am entirely inadequate as a college applicant. still i super look forward to whatever debauchery ensues this next and far superior holiday. i might be a scrooge, but i do love the idea of a whole new year.
because remember, beana, "this is the new year, we must resolve to feel different."
we talked on the phone today. her father has given her permission to sleep around so long as she makes an obgyn appointment ahead of time to learn the trickery of avoiding offspring. we could very well end up together in ohio or together in boston but what i really want is to pack my life into a travelling vortex and follow her to her opera auditions in l.a.
best of luck to all who wish to partake in obtaining a degree!
(i left my extra toothbrush in a jar at my mother's)

it is a tough lesson i am still learning.

things that WILL BE:
-the finished ginny ballantine (paper trees: joshua, rider, codex, & b.b. ghostie)
-kings and queens and stars and stripes (NOT FOREVER, BUT FOR--GAMBLING!)
-no bowling on friday (tg!)
-watching watching moo-vies
-feeling somewhat complete with the dreaded applications
-sleep, sleep, glorious sleep

today:
ran out of hot water
never do work
patchwork sky
orange polo shirt
chrissmas card
from mrs. anderson
tiny toes
itchy skin

tomorrow:
dentist
doctor?
'QUASH qv!
afternoon
misunderstanding
one. more. day!

i do not feel creative. rather sleepy, almost bedtime.

it is hard seeing any end. break will bring: who knows what...more paper mash? party with ex-es? slides for yaarrrr(gh)t? seeing sister? flee to hearts? noodle beanin' root beer float? vespers, new years, present(s), present, whaaa?

first picture of claire and i. and i like it.
meeds and lottie also dazzle.

let me refresh your memory:



(places)


(things)







(people)


(return here)




(misc.)

and now for the big finish...

i am watching nickelodeon's games and sports channel.
this is how thanksgiving break is turning out.
nothing on my to-do list has been to-done and i am aching for friendlies of any sort. this weekend lucy is coming to lawrenceville and bringing claire for lots of pseudo always family conversations, scarved, it is exciting! there was a promise, too, that better be kept, but i have many things to do before that (SUPPOSEDLY). kate is all alone in ohio and there is a lot of time between now and tuesday. a lot of time to write a lot of essays and make a lot of artsles (?)

or. NOT.

tomorrow after turkey we will doubtlessly go see a movie. it will most likely be casino royale.



q: who is this dapper lad?
a: if you guessed christopher walken, you are correct!

this is a digital photo. of a real photo. my mother has a pile of snapshots on her desk in the new house and i want (in digital). among them: parading in balloon hats at the park (frick, maybe?), roller skating maine-wise, & snail races in sanibel.

i learned today that there is another m.a. bradt in my family, a namesake in the generation above. she is the daughter of the recently departed john, mega red sox fan. she used to teach art in a convent in british columbia and is now a retiree raising llamas. no one has ever told me about her before. "you're just the only third generation." i know there was never a second, but i did learn that the first went to the University of Chicago.

other things i learned about this weekend: pink pants, wrapping paper, wheeling and dealing, the eighties, tourettes, carnies, soup, christmas candle wax, & sick-tion.

Less than a week...

(You are just the baby school and I am the big league chew)

I could have mono for up to six months. I have a growing to do list. Biting my nails over college still and until I feel secure in something.
(IDO? SAIC has these days called IDO days where they review your application materials then interview you and tell you if you're accepted right then and there. Should I do this?)
Things that have happened and caused me much sleepiness:

Thursday - Giant Eagle. RavioliIndianFood. Play. Yawwwn.
Friday - Half Day! E & P. Bowling. Cooking. Deerhoof! Danceable. Enough said. Allergies to Dogs (make for miserable sleep).
Saturday - Sleepy morning mit Claire. The Virgin Suicides. The Music Transfers. (all the while congested) Afternoon homebound vomitacious. Stress Rush (unprepared). Sick. sick. Stomach settles, portrait-ing. Mining for Coal. Tessaro backseat. Ballet binoculars. Trisha, gum, GRAND FINALE. baby. Home again to paint + varnish and a long, chilly night.
Sunday - ERRANDS. Get things accomplished. Envelopes, groceries, movie.
Monday - IIFC. Dresses and Pocketed sweaters. Make it home and fall asleep.
Tuesday - Wigglin' FacBand. Ski Free. Mojito Jones (much like Dorito Jones, come to think of it). China Sea. Text Twist. It rains.

Today I played catch up and I think my body thanks me. I had crazy morning dreams interrupted by wakings every two hours or so. Traveled the world with a fish eye lens and shopping carted through the imaginary halls of a Winchester Thurston, grocery store hybrid.
Slept until around 11. And again from 3-6.
Now what?

Albeit extremely stressful, at least the day ended well. Though I am nervous and worried and teary, there is there is there was there will be. Pirate ship napkin letters home: my face is dotted spotted and my glasses don't have enough negative.

Fri 10/27 Deerhoof (Fog)
Fri 11/03 Fiery Furnaces
(Thu 11/09 The Decemberists)
Fri 11/10 Broken Social Scene (?)
Fri 11/10 Blackalicious & Andrew Bird
Fri 11/11 Joanna Newsom (again, again, again!)

Crying on both ends of the telephone is just as sad as it sounds, if it sounds like anything. I also have problems with making concise and sensical bulletins with conjunctions & prepositions in the correct places, this carries over into all writings.
(She is leaving and he won't have it. We are not good hostesses because we have nothing to show. Vacation, baby. January is too far away but by then some stress will be alleviated, re-iterate.) Happy Birthday, surly power ranger.
Iceland is the land of books and 304,334 people.
Drinking coffee is fun every once in a while.
Gum-poppingly good road tripping.
This aquarium befits me not.
We could make a fair trade.
You are inaccessible.
I am awake.

(Don't you talk Ba-a-a-ack)

oh me oh my oh today is unproductive.
i felt it seep through the leaky brain pipes that are supposed hold in the hope to FINISH/protect me from never DOING anything. the gross slimy fluid of my disgust with completion is ever wriggling its nervousfeelinginducingself into my consciousness. i'm (not really) convinced there are gooey chemicals that prevent me from simply accomplishing.
words you are too hard to string together and i don't make much of an effort.
coffee was nice though i didn't get any.
hopefully i am making it to dinner tonight..
(i think my ability to communicate is impaired by my inability to concentrate)
let's walk all around and up and down forever until we finally make decisions!
(of course it is easy to be frustrated with me, I'M frustrated with me)
at least my bed provided web-plenty camping dreams involving gorges. suicidal cornell students need not apply. envelope.
that girl had a funny bright green hat and she knew we would be friends if only the time allowed it. there is something about knowing.

I know Disney is a cock-sucking umbrella corporation that promotes nuclear warfare and feeds asbestos lollipops to children, but this movie is going to rule..

Except for the two people I saw it with, Valerie and Mark. The coldest movie I have ever seen, it was it was, short sleeves, rain, and theater A/C.
And Andy (because it's come up more than once).
I otherwise have a hard time convincing myself that it (I'll Sleep when I'm Dead) exists considering I remember little about it. But seriously, wouldn't people go crazy for a movie with both Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Clive Owen in it (and also Charlotte Rampling, the woman from Swimming Pool)? Maybe it just wasn't that good.



Heath Ledger is The Joker in the new Batman Movie.
The Joker's Wikipedia icon has changed since the last time I looked.

Yesterday was welcome and unexpected.
Though I was strictly forbidden to go into the wild, I was not going to go shopping with my mother.
First there was the usual hide and seek & the rifle rifle.
We looked towards the strange magnetic silver bubble coffee that has appeared next door to the market for a guide, but it was closed though there was a man reading a newspaper outside.
This brought us out of the hollow, past her old house, and to the land of yestertoday.
I met Chad after there was long talk of his existence, driving while injured, no less. Happy ten month anniversary!
Passing Wine & Spirits we discussed the glory of lemonade in mason jars, pasta straws, jelly candies and animal cracker sundaes. We were not going to meet up with the dropout (whatshisname?), but rather questing for thirst quenchers.
Des moules-frites: Délicieuses.
cries of JAIL! turn into laughter aplenty
We watched the spotted dotted version and had unanswerable questions then drank orange juice in the kitchen where I promptly forgot the name of my dog. Nostalgia was a wave of "R."
When can I see the latest edition?

Perhaps I, too, will witness Ted Leo's bloody head again (Allison---this is the Saturday after Joanna in Cleveland and you are coming!). I'll look into tickets/transportation...in the same vein, Wilco, anyone?
Next weekend, college visitation?
I've yet to set foot in a copy shop.
Many knocks on this door and my blood continues to boil.
There is much to look forward to!

(ten days late and $16.00 in unpaid fines and bills)
I have narrated fall from a mental crow's nest:
It is not over. It is 1/3 accomplished, barely. Summer ends the 21st of September, so verily, we have only entered fall but a week + 2 days. I love trudging through feet of snow, but only when I am well dressed. I'm not ready to embrace fall with cinnamon hearths and orange leaf piles because of what summer has done to me, though the idea of snuggling is more than acceptable.
((let me maintain (awk) I've been going to school to attend meetings, not to go to class))

The mansion sits alone and niceness is lit by birthday candles in cold February slumbering when everyone brings pillows and flashlights; the roof is in need of some repair on the first quadrant. Candace called from Montreal, she gives her "ALLO" to the red power ranger in the backyard.

Long ago I bought a mead composition notebook and it was filled measley pages and left to die. There is still hope in a blue ledger, but post-its --> writely has been the evolving novel of late to be collated and mailed in a mailer colored envelope, preferably chronological in a font of my liking. And then there was the spiderweb that kept me up last night, so many ideas to illustrate how I've spent the last few years. What do you tell someone to explain it all?

Camping tomorrow. I'll feel like a liar if I go. I'm not well enough to collect leaves at nine in the morning and something tells me that makes me not well enough to stay up all night in the woods with various concoctions of the inebriating variety (or not even). I want to take a guitar and cook pasta over an open fire with carmelized onions, but something is saying no, don't go, go to kinko's and make, make, make, while you still want to.
Mummy sleeping bags and wool blankets. Flannel lumberjack and a three person tent. Mononucleotic, we be. Michel's movie was exactly as I'd hoped and expected, more of a Sunday afternoon heartbreaker than a Friday pick-me-up. Just as crushing as it was beautiful, stop motion and fabric hold many possibilities. (lots of Mmmm's, there)

...

then there's this: "he wanted me to read a book called 'the artist's way'"

..and i got a liverwurst journal for to commnuicate, of course!
There are things of note thusfar, but they will be discussed later.
(portfolio portfolio, you are a looming loomer)