Thursday, December 24, 2009
Ch-ch-ch-changes
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009

Friday, September 4, 2009
United States of Sin

Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Well...

Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Busy little bee
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The time can pass so easily
Monday, August 3, 2009
Next Up!

Sunday, August 2, 2009
Jitterbug Perfume

Saturday, August 1, 2009
A day at the beach
Trundle Trundle
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Lovely
Monday, July 27, 2009
Love
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Coyotes
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
On Fire
Monday, July 20, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Perfect Summer Day
Thoughts of the Day

Sunday, July 12, 2009
Problem?

Feel the burn?
Friday, July 10, 2009
Lazy Day
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Blech
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Shabbat Shalom
--Harriet Beecher Stowe, Am. author and abolitionist
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Running
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Some days
Sunday, June 28, 2009
The Uniform Project





Saturday, June 27, 2009
Summer Time
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Just a thought
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Coffee
Monday, June 22, 2009
On my mind

Thursday, June 11, 2009
Okkkkk....



Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Good Morning

Monday, June 8, 2009
Formal Apology
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Gender, Science, Math
Early Birthday

Saturday, June 6, 2009
Bikes


Monday, June 1, 2009
News


Friday, May 29, 2009
A Poem
DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
--Dylan Thomas
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Damn It
Friday, May 22, 2009
Question
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Random
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Almost over
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Bed Musings
Finals Coming Up
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Picking Classes
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Doodles

Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I Liberal-Arts-ed the Hell Out of That...
Monday, April 20, 2009
Hot Hot Hot
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Dress Up
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Pretty Poem
I like this poem: :-)
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.
Thanks to your love a certain fragrance,
risen darkly from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride,
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where "I" does not exist, nor "you,"
So close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
So close that your eyes close and I fall asleep.
-Pablo Neruda
Monday, April 13, 2009
Women and the Media
LITERAL TEXT: “Forget about it. Men’s preferences will never change.”
(So eat this yogurt so that you can!)
(Just buy her jewelry and she'll open her legs!)
AD CAMPAIGN: Wonderbra"
("There are only two ways to get a man. If you can't cook, you better be sexy.")
(For participation in the organ donation program!)
(Please check out the analysis with the link at the top if you want to see/know more.)