Nancy in Wonderland

"If you go home with someone, and they don’t have books, don’t fuck ‘em."

Sat, 02 Oct 2010 02:27:46 -0700

“If you go home with someone, and they don’t have books, don’t fuck ‘em.”

- John Waters (via hitrecordjoe) (via jaredgeller)

I'll always remember..

Sat, 14 Aug 2010 03:44:00 -0700

I remember

..this time last year.. each of the days preceding & those following.. to the hour.. logged in my memory like your favorite sad movie.

..the ambiguous text, the ominous phone call, the midnight alarm, the somber drive, the emotional breakdown, the muted hospital, the bitter end.

..the resulting concern, condolences, curse words, crying, & finally coming to terms with the fact that death is an inescapable reality.. the one absolute universal truth in all of our lives.

Life produces questions & death multiplies them exponentially. Who? When? Where? How? The most difficult of all.. Why?!

Why ~~didn’t old age get to take him?~~

Why ~~doesn’t my father get to walk any of his girls down the aisle?~~

Why ~~won’t he get the chance to meet any of his 12 children’s grandchildren?~~

Why ~~don’t my little sisters get to have their father to wake up to, walk to school with, camp in the backyard & fish with, to read, run, learn, play, jump, & grow with?~~

The “why’s” are the ones that get you. If you allow them to occupy your thoughts for too long, they’ll hold your mind hostage. Let yourself free.

081409. RIP dad. In loving memory of John Onechanh Oudommahavanh. http://sites.google.com/site/onechanhmemorial/home

I want to tell his stories. One day I will.

"I don’t know. It’s a hard grape to grow, as you know. Right? It’s thin-skinned,..."

Tue, 27 Jul 2010 19:27:16 -0700

“I don’t know. It’s a hard grape to grow, as you know. Right? It’s thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It’s, you know, it’s not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and uh, thrive even when it’s neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. You know? And in fact it can only grow in these really specific, little, tucked away corners of the world. And, and only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot’s potential can then coax it into its fullest expression. Then, I mean, oh its flavors, they’re just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and… ancient on the planet.”

- -Miles Raymond on why he prefers Pinot Noir, Sideways

Me too, Miles. Me too.

Once upon a...

Thu, 18 Mar 2010 23:12:40 -0700

Once upon a time..

fuckyeahmeninsuits:

ohsara:dinnerinthedarkroom:commanderspock:ostentates:economique:jmaticirony:vitamia:kimbles:heartoffire:(via countrydreamer)

Mother fucking magic

Original GQMFs

why don’t men dress like this anymore

really

<33

Audio

Mon, 15 Mar 2010 14:59:03 -0700

My 5 year old little sister Lily is an aspiring rap artist....

Mon, 15 Mar 2010 14:56:00 -0700

My 5 year old little sister Lily is an aspiring rap artist. Haha. She even has silver grills in her mouth. This is what I have to listen to at home. She’s pure comedy.

“Books are for people who wish they were somewhere else.” -Mark...

Mon, 15 Mar 2010 00:47:00 -0700

“Books are for people who wish they were somewhere else.” -Mark Twain

There’s enough here for me to disappear every once in a while.

Evidence of our tomfoolery.

Fri, 12 Mar 2010 00:45:00 -0800

Sister-skyping via the webcam I attached to the ceiling.
Lily’s wiggle dance caught in action.
Mama’s comedy skype sessions.

Thanks for these snapshots, Lany!

"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To..."

Fri, 12 Mar 2010 00:14:07 -0800

“To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson (via nikkidixon)

When the odds stand hopelessly against you..

Thu, 04 Mar 2010 18:00:00 -0800

When the odds stand hopelessly against you..

Charm them, work them, defy & mystify them until those odds become weak in the knees, hopelessly devoted to YOU.

Those odds are yours for the taking. Your own hopelessness —-> hopefulness.

Less < Ful(l)

Hence, less becomes more..

More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.

Your life, your choice: more or less?

Note And Now Challenge Yourself: Hustle every minute of every day because guess what? HOPE’s soulmate is HUSTLE. When hope & hustle procreate, beautiful things happen.

Hope~~less~~ in the best ways.

Rumpus!

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 23:57:12 -0700

Where the Wild Things Are. I feel like it’s going to give me moments of childhood revival. The soundtrack alone plucks you off the ground and delivers you into this fantasy world of paper boats and flying kites. I can’t wait for the movie! It’ll be a perfectly happy distraction for me.

I don’t know how many times I’ve written an entry, chosen select all, and then pressed delete. My stream-of-consciousness is riddled with road blocks. These days, I’m just looking for signs, for someone, to let me know that everything will be alright. I have been feeling so vulnerable and frustrated lately but I always put on a happy face. That’s how I’ve always been. Kids don’t know the blissful extent of their oblivion. I observe my little sisters and notice that whether they get upset about trivial issues or deeper dilemmas, their worries never linger. A night’s sleep seems to eradicate a day’s worth of vexations. Why doesn’t that work for me anymore?

I think too much. No great thing is as good in excess. Post.

I believe you‘ve got me figured all wrong..

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 00:51:40 -0700

I believe you‘ve got me figured all wrong..

"No I’m not a lesbian. I just don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s girlfriend. I don’t actually feel..."

Fri, 11 Sep 2009 12:43:59 -0700

“No I’m not a lesbian. I just don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s girlfriend. I don’t actually feel comfortable being anyone’s anything.”

- 500 Days of Summer (via quotewhore) (via littlewords) (via sammwich) (via antiquities) (via filmquotes)

This is where my mind aims to be each day..

Fri, 11 Sep 2009 12:01:12 -0700

This is where my mind aims to be each day..

An audience, all my own.

Wed, 09 Sep 2009 01:37:00 -0700

When life changing situations present themselves, I have this tendency of getting lost in thought beneath a singular spot in my mind. I crawl inside, away from the stress, letting the movies reel and flicker silently in the dark, black & white theater in my head. Images pulsate and words flit by, but none of it makes any sense. The moment that I’ve had enough..

I close my eyes to the quiet chaos, to the scenes and their subjects, awaiting the dénouement, the peace.

Where..

is..

it?

Shaking now, my eyelids clamp shut a little harder in a feeble attempt to calm the tremors. A feeble attempt indeed..

Instead, the stage lights intensify until their bulbs burst into flashes of candied apple reds, electric glowing blues jet across unsuspecting pupils, and wet mossy yellows stream by, oozing all over the set.

My eyes fly open in amazement, succumbing to the allure of my mind’s matinee.

I gawk at the images twinkling in new lights, parading on until they flood the seats and bleed through my fingertips. They explode violently from their cells, dancing onward through the freedom of empty white space, churning into a booming symphony of vowels and consonants. I finally notice the skinny blinking conductor gesturing the way for a grand crescendo of words, breathing rhythm and color into every act of a once silent montage.

I watch him in awe like a kid at a carnival. He’s blinking, blinking, blinking. I try not to blink myself but I fail to notice the curtain of lashes falling or the lights gently fading back to a soundless dark.

I forgot how incredible it feels to write. Oh, the catharsis!

There’s a certain thrill in knowing I can let others in on my thoughts. I refuse to participate in the popularity contest though. You know.. footprints, fans, friends kind of thing. Too many pressures and expectations. I spook easily and may run off like I’m prone to doing. All of that kills the creative process anyway, and well, I don’t support murder.

I want to write regardless of who I think may be reading. I want to write honestly and uninhibited. So in this land, I am my very own audience.

& the show must go on..

Lily, you little impostor. Testing out the audio.. mic check...

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 21:02:00 -0700

Lily, you little impostor. Testing out the audio.. mic check 1,2,1,2. Works just fine.

Once upon a time..

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 20:46:00 -0700

Once upon a time, I was an avid blogger. I can’t recall at what point that started to change but this is my declaration of regression into old habits. I’m diving back into the pool of pixelated thoughts and letting myself drown in the deep end of it all. It should be quite easy.. I can’t swim.

I feel a writing addiction of sorts coming on. Dear tumblr, you are my drug of choice.