So Far So....

I had to pull out of volunteering at a charity tag sale bc of my hip. I cried bc i have hang ups with follow-through. Mommy felt bad. Found book sent from heaven. If like me you have severe adhd but a ravenous need to always learn stuff you should get it.

I had to pull out of volunteering at a charity tag sale bc of my hip. I cried bc i have hang ups with follow-through. Mommy felt bad. Found book sent from heaven. If like me you have severe adhd but a ravenous need to always learn stuff you should get it.

— 1 week ago

Kitten

Kitten

— 1 week ago

"Just calling to remind emily to bring kate moss and nelson mandelas stool samples tomorrow"

Beautiful turds of course. Nary a worm and only trace amphetamines.

"Just calling to remind emily to bring kate moss and nelson mandelas stool samples tomorrow"

Beautiful turds of course. Nary a worm and only trace amphetamines.

— 2 weeks ago

Hip surgery went f*king awesome. I’m holding back for social acceptance, i loved every nervous, thrilling, morphine dripping moment of it. should have waxed bikini line night before but i felt absurd and just kind of fucked up about that so natural wins, as always. when your hip is pulled like a foot out of the socket with a camera going in butt-side and a small tool box inserted hip-side, no ones impressed by a timely brazilian. plus my doctor knows i have no life so everyone in the ER would totally know I got a pre-op wax. aint much sadder than that. you know what’s NOT sad? who’s got 2 legs that feel like they’re 17 again? yuuppp. guess who can bend down without clicking popping and cracking? f*ck yeah nerds! i’m banished to 2 more weeks on crutches because my surgeon knows me too well to trust the ants in my pants. i cannot wait to get moving omg life is good again. i didn’t even FINISH my bottle of percocet. killin it left and right. these hips were meant to be shaking 90% of my waking life, time to get back on track.

Next post: KITTENS! Kate Moss and Fellini, welcome to the Knight family. They are indeed eating out of fine china (my mom justifies this by explaining how low on the fine scale it is of all our china but there’s def. some gold in there) and their vet is without a doubt the coolest and blackest man on the CT shoreline.

Is this happiness?

— 1 month ago

Working hard

Working hard

— 2 months ago

The 20’s I’m content to close the book on. The last image is a screen print/mixed media “piece” my ex boyfriend Alex Nunez made as an I’m sorry gift after we had a fight and he changed the uniform at a popular restaurant in New Orleans to t shirts of my face with GET HIGH ON CRACK emblazoned in 1000 point Arial on the back. He and I worked wonders creatively together and when it was good it was heaven but as we all know that means frequent trips to hell to keep the scale from tipping. so that pretty much sums up 2002-3. The mosaic of polaroids were all taken my senior year of high school I believe, featuring the beloved and dearly missed Rob Wilcockson, whom I had just met that fall. We became fast lovers, faster soul mates, quit the romance BS and became a narcotics fueled sleep when we’re dead dynamic duo. I now understand codependence and all the ways we nearly killed each other while claiming to love one another but i will always stand by that friendship as the most profound and influential of my life. My general perspective and foundational thinking when I observe the world around me is all Rob. we spent days expounding on social dynamics, our mutual love of other people and fascination with the absurd created a bond that was unbreakable. he knew he would die young and most likely how, and as always rob called it. and i fucking miss you so much but not 1 days goes by without fond thoughts of you wearing my tennis dresses dancing around my astroturfed room to cheer me up or the time you slit my tires because i accidentally didn’t say hi at fucking one eyed jacks on a thursday night! fucking hipsters. we wore it well. in our own way. and there’s Art and I on my 21st birthday summing up our years together in 2 pictures. Drinking delirium, laughing so hard he actually spit a shot of patron in my face one time, then licked it off god forbid we waste. whispering, probably about what hot shit we are and why followed by some air drumming, powders all shades of white and brown (sorry mom) razor blades, inside jokes, passing out before even making it past first base. wake, rinse (with water or johnny walker) and repeat. Art took me out on a date to see Zack Galefenakis and some other comedians one of the several times we gave dating a shot. 20 minutes in I had peed my pants and the jokes kept getting funnier and funnier, the bathroom was like a mile away and I had been up for 3 days about, popped a xanax and decided to just sit down so no one would notice my wet rear. benzos kicked in and i apparently just laid down and happily fell asleep right there on the sidewalk outside house of blues, classy lassy that i am. obviously he was smitten and we hung out constantly for like the next 2 years. really. not the smitten but the years. 90% of it was spent awake so there are a LOT of stories. I’m tired, more 20s chronicling later. 

— 3 months ago with 1 note

Late 2002 post shift at rue

Late 2002 post shift at rue

— 4 months ago