304/365

things I want to remember about september:

champagne drinking
swimming pool back-floating 
convenience store po-boys 
midnight beignets
otherworldly courtyards
the way we looked at each other
the pop and flash of the photobooth
the scent of the photobooth chemicals
and then, twenty-five years, in our hands
wild cherry snoballs, legs dangling
bumpy, lovely bike rides down all the streets
the radio tuned to WWOZ 90.7, always
whipped cream desserts on the house
the soft loop of string lights overhead
extra deep bathtubs, extra hot water 
the ghost of louis armstrong, the last serenade
the sliver of moon from my bedroom window
ezra's many splendored sketchbook revelations
teeny tiny happy cans of ice cold ginger ale 
the sound of my cousin's laugh
that very first hour at the fleamarket
the man that sang for the junkers
the way I yanked myself up and into that monster truck
the digging through hundreds and hundreds of old found photographs
the dirt under my fingernails
that magic starlight drive-in
those wide-open texas skies
the conversations to and from
the changing of the light

303/365

personal quirks, part three:

has a penchant for rhyming
cannot leave house if living room is unkempt
has visceral aversion to any/all overhead lighting

302/365

some things I did buy at the texas fleamarket:

a couple old school flashcards 
a couple little toy playing cards
a pile of carefully selected found photographs
a small red portland pennant
a large red new orleans pennant
a few patches for ava
a few old watch parts for ezra
a small rose cameo piece 
a green plastic letter A
a little lemonette soda bottle 
a tea tin from budapest
a roll of mustard yellow floral wallpaper circa 1970
a faded poster advertising the opening of drive-in theatre in iowa circa 1950
three beautiful old photobooth frames
and one polaroid of an elderly man holding his cat

301/365

some things I really wanted to buy at the fleamarket this week but did not:

a giant wonder bread sign
a legit pair of wrangler jeans
an antique swedish goat bell
an old kodak film advertisement
a beautiful old bronze schwinn cruiser
a little canonet rangefinder film camera
a red wooden roller derby skateboard
a vintage christmas light bulb tester display
an enormous plastic ice cream cone

really should have bought that little canonet rangefinder. I really, really should have. am now swimming in a pool of regret.

300/365

things seen while on the road in texas:

a dozen zebras, grazing
oil silos like giant tin drums 
tufts of buttery yellow flowers along the edges of the highway
the world's smallest catholic church
buc-ee the beaver, high in the sky
an impossible sea of blinding white tents
wide open forever and ever skies
an old drive-in theatre so beautiful, I could not breathe

299/365

three things I do when I've been traveling for a week and am thoroughly overwhelmed:

stare at the ceiling
stare at the computer
will myself to write something, anything

298/365

three things I wish I could tell my mom right now:

that texas fleamarket really is as wild and sprawling and wonderful as we thought it would be
cousin kristy has a beautiful, bright five year-old girl and is so happy now
you are missed, mom, you are so sorely missed

297/365

things to do this fall:

open windows
hoard candy corns
hoard tiny pumpkins
read books underneath trees with fiery golden leaves
ride bikes down streets in unknown neighborhoods
stretch fake webs across windows and doorways
carve pumpkins til hands are sufficiently tired and happy
just, you know, always be roasting things over backyard bonfires
watch films
pick apples
shoot polaroids
share polaroids
pack car
get out of town
make soup
make soup 
I WILL MAKE SOUP

296/365

three songs I'm listening to:

what am I to do (ezra collective+loyle carner)
it takes time to be a man (the rapture)
fallaway (kid koala + emiliana torrini)

295/365

list of potential lists, part one:

times I was right
times I was wrong
things found in my teenage diary
lessons learned from cutting my own hair
reasons I broke up with my laundromat
magic things that happened in new york
spectacular falls I have taken

294/365

five weekly friday lists I read:

tracy's I love lists
karen's this was a good week
erin's week in objects
victoria's friday finds
tina's link pack

293/365

things I have always worn, will always wear, whether they're in style or not:

burnt orange
striped pieces
turquoise jewelry
patchwork anything
vintage adidas everything
technicolor tights
embroidered blouses
wooden clogs

WOODEN CLOGS FOREVER

292/365

sounds I hear in the background when I listen to my friend jen's messages:

horns honking
brakes screeching
ambient street conversations
muffled announcements
subway trains coming
subway trains going
buses heaving 
urgent, steady beeping
saws, drills and jackhammers 
things, people, bikes, cars whizzing past
women talking
kids laughing
motors revving
the wind

frankly, I need these new york street sounds as much as I need the messages and conversations with my friend. while we're on the subject, I'm not sure what I'd do without the voxer conversations I have going with three friends who live in completely different parts of the country. many times, they have saved me. many, many times.

291/365

signs fall is coming:

goldenrod wild along the highway
negligible difference between falling leaves and passing butterflies
(cannot tell the difference until the very last minute)
soup, I want to make soup

290/365

daily evidence of failed attempts and/or good intentions:

unpacked suitcases in the corner

a mess of books and papers on the desk

forgotten glasses of water, set down in different spots all over the house

mud beige bedroom walls I vowed to paint five years ago

mud beige bathroom walls I vowed to paint five years ago

a shower that needs to be scrubbed

a pile of clothes that need to be mended

a towering plant that begs to be repotted

chaos in the closets

chaos underneath the bed

stacks of unread books