mystery fruit

bonjour, friends. i've been meaning to post this bizarro fruit/berry/mystery flora for like ever. so there are these petite little trees around my apartment, and they bear these strange pinky red prickle ball fruits. i think they're kind of amazing, and weird. (this may go on record as the most pointless post ever.)

an ode to flat-faced dogs, part quatre.

more soon, i promise. for now, this photo of bentley, courtesy of m.d.

you can read more about this surfing pug here. i do question the fact that he qualified in the 20 pounds and under category. hmm.

sophie as sushi

remember those last days of summer when time just floated by, and you thought you were busy but then fall attacked and you reevaluated the definition of "busy?" well, one thing that's good about fall is HALLOWEEN. not that i dress up or participate in any way, but i enjoy the idea of halloween. thankfully sara is on top of things and already found a costume for soph-a-doph, here modeled by a lovely boston terrier, who is clearly thrilled to be decked out as a japanese edible.

sushi costume from sushibooties on etsy

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today, everything is a failure.

the dutchess & the duke

i saw the dutchess and the duke at the now defunct gravity lounge last year or sometime in the recent past. they were awesome. this isn't a real video, but i want you to hear this song, reservoir park. on myspace they describe themselves as 'campfire punk,' which is, well, just right.

back to school!

speaking of photos taken from behind, i thought you might appreciate this. i am basically posting this photo to harass my little sister, katherine. this is our back to school photo from 1991 -- i was starting fourth grade, katherine first. and as you can see, our dachshund, hope aka hopeeees, had to get in on the rear view action. check out our matching outfits. WE WERE SO COOL. you can't really see it from this angle because my HOT PINK backpack is covering it up, but i'm wearing a matching vest and perfectly round john lennon glasses. we aren't even going to talk about katherine's pants. and maybe she had a vest, too? this particular year katherine and i had two first days of school, it's a long story, but suffice to say that on my second first day of fourth grade i distinctly remember wearing an acid washed denim mini skirt with a ruffle all around the bottom. no, it wasn't ruffled, it was a denim mini WITH a ruffle. and i remember loving that thing like there was no tomorrow.

now we're sort of grown up and katherine has an mfa from pratt. she has stellar printmaking skills and does crazy cool installations. you can see her most recent work, index of you and me, on her site. she also once attempted to elude the police WHILE DRIVING when she was fourteen. she's awesome. obviously.

nostalgia fits me like a glove.

my mother does not remember this, and so it is mine to tell. the details have faded, and maybe they are wrong. but she does not remember, so i will remember for both of us. a balmy night with only the faintest touch of chill. there must have been some sort of discussion to give rise to our actions, talk of meteor showers or falling stars. i remember it being dark and feeling like we were embarking on a secret adventure. (there are so many things that are ours alone.) we gathered a few kitchen towels, walked down the concrete steps that are home to so many of my memories, and we perched ourselves on the hood of my father’s truck. we smoothed the towels out flat between our reclining bodies. she told me we needed them in case we caught a falling star. the utter impossibility is immediately clear. not only does one not catch falling stars, but one certainly does not attempt to do so with threadbare kitchen towels. we waited and watched, in much the same way that i remember urgently pressing my nose to the bedroom window on christmas eve, when it was time to sleep, eagerly and desperately seeking out any hint of a glowing red orb in the night sky. i am thankful for these falsehoods. no falling stars were caught, but i do not remember the evening as a failed mission. what i remember is stretching out on the hood of a car, under the starry sky, with my mother at my side. i remember believing.