Alpacas!

At Nora's parents' house, her mom is raising alpacas. They have fabulous names, like Elvis and Tina Turner.


And one has an amazing snaggle tooth.


Nora, Synphany, and I tromp around the barn trying to get them to hum.


Did you know alpacas hum? They also spit, like camels.


And when you pet one your hand sinks about four inches into its coat.


Maybe I should raise alpacas!



It doesn't look too hard...


Aethena and Beignet (how on earth do you spell that?):


Back inside:





Nora and Syphany are thinking about moving back to this area. Oh I hope they do!

Hanging Out

I spend a lot of time at home these days. Reading magazines and blogs and the first couple pages of actual books. Thinking about the things I want to do, like write and learn to sew, and how I should just do them already.


Sitting on the couch. Watching TV. Eating. And applying for jobs, I am doing a lot of that.


But really, to be honest, this staying in thing isn't bad at all. I like doing nothing.


Most of the time, I'm not even bored. I'm totally content to just sit around. I don't really want to go anywhere or call anybody.


Should I be worried about this?


Here's a wall of my dad's photos:


My room:


Sunday night after a party:



And before that same party:




This is the accidentally vegan applesauce bread I made:


This is Slurpy, the feral cat:


This is the bouquet my father got me for Valentine's Day next to my mother's flowers (I can't remember what kind hers are).

Still, I would like to earn some money so I could buy those jeans I loved at Zanna...

Two Best Things About Home

1. Aethena

Dinner at her and Noah's on Wednesday. They have two of my favorite cats ever. Moochi (sp?) and Penelope act just like dogs.


They beg and fetch and like to be snuggled.


(Our feral cat won't even come inside, though she likes to sit at the window and hiss.)


The company was good as well. We discovered our mutual addiction to Rock of Love and the Real World/Road Rules Challenge. Why is bad reality TV so good!?


2. Writing group

Every Tuesday, four or five others and I assemble in Edite's living room. For three hours we write and read, share favorite poems, inspiration, a pot of soup. I am by far the youngest member.


Edite was my very first writing teacher in eighth grade.


She is one of the reasons I love writing. And because of this group (among other things), I keep at it.

Chic Banal

I'm having trouble uploading pictures to my computer, so here is one from a few weeks ago. See my dad's blog for a different interpretation of chic banal.

NY and DC

On Monday, I turned 27. When I think about that number, I feel a strange combination of things. And also nothing at all.


When I was in high school, I wrote a list of what I would like to achieve in my life. The list, as I remember it, is as follows:
1. Publish a book.
2. Speak another language.
3. Learn to play pool.
4. Learn to drive stick.
5. Have hair to my waist.


Here are my achievements so far:
1. I've gone to school for what I love. Twice.
2. I've lived in three states, five countries, and three continents. Traveled to more.
3. I speak Spanish (or used to--I am out of practice).
4. My hair is halfway down my back.
5. I realized I don't like pool.
6. I drive stick.


But:
1. I haven't published any stories.
2. I don't have a job.
3. Or my own apartment.
4. Or transportation.
5. Or a dog.


So. Last weekend I went to NY.


I'm not a city person, but there where were a few moments of inspiration. When I understood.


Like early morning in Brooklyn.


Watching bundled hipsters file into Gorilla Coffee, sighing with relief.

And seeing my friends! Devo in her cute booties:


It is her and Judy's last month in their apartment. They have lived there three years, I think. The end of an era, we all say.


Park Slope brunch:


And in the Bronx, Nora and Synphany.


They have two cats and a dog. A whole family.


Then to DC, where Caleb had stocked his fridge for my arrival.


It is a surprising city.



Complete with a Cuban santaria shop:


And on the way home: