work commute

dumbo truck

the image above is from this moving van that i used to see at my old job. it had all these handpainted images of all the items the truck and its movers could move. they were painted in kindergarten colors, and you could tell they tried to paint them as flat as possible, even though some really pretty paint strokes were starting to wear through. the weird thing about the paintings of dolleys and boxes was all the shadows looked like puddles which kind of took away from their advertising efforts. or maybe it was intentional. well to make a boring story short, i like its sense of humor, or possible lackthereof.

shut the fuck up about your cats

unemployment diet

things to eat when you have $30 for the week.

breakfast:
(1) charm/pity coffee from mr. kiwis
(1) serving pasta with/without kale (dependent on sleeping couch roommate)
rice wine vinegar or sesame oil or gojujang or fuck it, use them all

sandwich:
(1) portugese roll with with lots of roland extra strong dijon mustard
(1) ch'mingle and
(3) handfuls of spinach stuffed inside.

mash:
(1) potato mashed
(2) carrots mashed
(1) handful frozen peas
some chicken stock, rice wine vinegar, and sesame oil
(1) over easy egg on top.

lazy trash soup:
(1) container of kitchen basics (blegh i know) chicken stock
(2) potatoes
(3) carrots
(1) parsnip
(1) bunch of kale
(1/2) shallot
(2) green onions

omelette:
(2) eggs
(1) green onion
extra strong mustard!

one-two meals a day; just fill in the gaps with cigarettes and beer.
resist the urge to buy rice and beans that sometimes taste like trash from the mexican deli across the street. you know it doesn't love you.

i used to be pretty good at this

other things i was better at when i was 13 as opposed to now:

- eating real pizza


- weaving lanyard keychains


-writing sprawling prose recounting self-inflicted drama


things i am better at now than when i was 13:
-drinking
-art
-making friends (cats and people)
-weaving lanyard keychains

ivy

there was this book called take ivy which was the subconscious touchstone for american apparel, and prep trends. now that the internet tells us everything, we can all be like, "oh damn!" it all stemmed from this. the book is really beautiful and it plays to my love of dusty washed out colors and vintage typeface. it reminds me of new england and being miserable while surrounded by so much beautiful architecture and landscaping. it reminds me of wearing a uniform in high school and how strange I think lifestyle/fashion books are. I think because they give these gentle prompts with clothing, and setting, and i just project the rest. like what those people do when they're not in the photo, where they hangout, what movies they like. i attribute all these qualities to their life like i'm coloring in the negative space around the photo. i try and pretend it's real, because it's more interesting that way and that's what they are leading me to anyway.
the book was reprinted a few months ago, and i found this on someone's blog:

I took the fucking Ivy.

Standing on my hardwood floor.

Pennys with no socks (natch).

POV shot.

This shit is straight porno.

I’m a fucking cinemotagrapher.

Who the fuck are you?

I’m Trad in a toaster.

Fucking crispy.

Glad Powerhouse re-published.

I only buy Made in the fucking USA.

Got this shit fucking pre-order.

Haven’t even opened the book.

I fucking been had the scans.

In photo class at my liberal arts college.

Name dropped T. Hayashidy.

Prof had no fucking clue.

So not Ivy.

Ivy is not one of eight prestigious unversities.

Ivy is not Madison Avenue.

Ivy is not Brooks Brothers.

Ivy is not modern Jazz.

Ivy is my BA in clownin’ on bitches.

Ivy is my crotch out of focus.

Ivy is standing in my iced out apartment.

Steezying for my followers.

I took the fucking Ivy.