well, this wasn't meant to be product placement. hm. Maybe I'm getting too into to these leetle pills.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
This slowly building argument disgusts me. From USA Today:
To help stop terrorists, moderate Muslims could help make our security forces in the USA more efficient. They could lobby to change our laws to allow profiling of terrorists. Muslim groups could insist their imams refuse to file lawsuits when they behave suspiciously...Moderates could insist that all young male Arab and Muslims agree to additional screenings at airports and not complain...
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Today on the subway I saw the most handsome man. I yanked out my pen and paper with excitement, but just as I finished his shoes two ladies blocked my view with in two large strollers. So I had to finish the rest of the picture in a glaringly obvious way. I was practically standing in my chair, embarassingly..
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
But I keep coming back to these beloved combinations. It's interesting to me how instinctive it is. Nobody told me to dress this way, if anything it's discouraged. It makes me think that it must be an authentically natural urge, in generations before and after me. Nobody taught us to be this way; it's not new, it's not urban, it's not modern, it's not white, it's not Western. It's as natural as the birds and bees, and thanks to Lyon de Clarasvals for reminding me, this whole shirt and tie show is probably healing.
p.s. today someone made a request to have more Qlay strips! That's nice, I thought they bored people. Anybody second that request?
Saturday, January 9, 2010
But then I get on the subway and I wonder why I do this - my ties, my loafers, my butch everything. Maybe it looks like I'm doing this for attention. People look displeased with what appears to be weird attention-seeking. It feels this way all the way to the office, in the office, and on the way home again. It's ridiculous masochism.