this year i...

.fell in love.
.went to duluth.
.went to st. louis.
.was promoted.
.bought a house.
.watched my sister marry.
.adopted the sweetest of mexican puppies.
.cooked a duck.
.bought my first NEW bike since middle school.
.ruled at ping pong.
.said yes.
.went to mexico.
.cooked a rabbit.
.read 29 books (for shame - must do better).

(inspired by S A M)

swoon

so, if anyone has a lot of money to throw around and wants to buy me a present, they should visit this woman's site. the plum coat or the normanville in red would do nicely.

xoxo

a bit more -

joe and i bought a christmas tree - it's aluminum and beautiful and needs to be put up this weekend. does anyone know where one can find awesome vintage ornaments (i'm really only interested in bulbs and an amazing star topper ((maybe midcentury modern))) for a respectable price?

i'm loving this man's photography right now. beautiful (and beautiful subjects).

puny (joe) and zeus jones (sj) have joined forces for a good cause - support it.

the other night i dreamt that i was in an infomercial for mascara and then, the next day, i went out and bought some new stuff - somehow my dreams are marketing to me. the final marketing frontier.

i just finished All the Pretty Horses. loved it. it deserves a blogpost of its own, but i'm busy and lazy all at once right now and can't bring myself to do it. maybe after bookclub next week...

two days ago, we celebrated the birthday of my absolute favorite lady and i made the best cake i've ever made. just saying.

VIII [john dos passos]

A brown net of branches
quivers above silver trunks of planes.
Here and there
a late leaf flutters
its faint death-rattle in the wind.
Beyond, the sky burns fervid rose
like red wine held against the sun.

Schoolboys are playing in the square
dodging among the silver tree-trunks
collars gleam and white knees
as they romp shrilly.
Lamps bloom out one by one
like jessamine, yellow and small.
At the far end a church's dome
flat deep purple cuts the sky.

Schoolboys are romping in the square
in and out among the silver tree-trunks
out of the smoked rose shadows
through the timid yellow lamplight...
Socks slip down
fingermarks smudge white collars;
they run and tussle in the shadows
kicking the gravel with muddied boots
with cheeks flushed hotter than the sky
eyes brighter than the street-lamps
with fingers tingling and breath fast:
banqueters early drunken
on the fierce cold wine of the dead year.