going away

i'm leaving now, see you all in a week and a half.xx

evacuating

stolen from my big brothers facebook i'm pretty sure he took these with an iphone.  

i like them, they are pretty and a look like they should be screen shots from a movie set in the 80's about a young girl escaping from youth and the confinement of a small town... possibly starring natalie portman.  and sean penn can play her abusive alcoholic father.  

ps. the sun is blue, the world will end at 3pm

how you know

more of her

bell X1

If I had you here, I'd clip your wings 
Snap you up and leave you sprawling on my pin 
This plan of mine is oh so very lame 
Can't you see the grass is greener where it rains 

You left, I died, 
I went and you cried 
You came, I think 
But I never really know 
I've served my time 
I've watched you climb 
The wrong incline 
But what do I know

her brother

this is something he would do

in the water

holidays

five more sleeps 

dansu dansu dansu

my birthday beautys

emma.

things i love about emma

- she tries to tell good stories and they never quite work out for her 

- she will often blush inappropriately for no good reason

- she has really soft hair

- she thinks i'm hilarious

- she writes food porn with me 

- she holds my hand when she gets really really drunk

- her bum doesn't touch her legs

- she has a six pack even when she's "fat"

- she knows how to work it for a dinner reservation

- she borrows my clothes a lot and always pretends its the last time

- she watched the sweetest thing over 100 times with me when we should've been studying

- she'll help me eat all my brownies, and knows a good cashew chicken when she eats one

- but i mostly love her because at school camp in grade 9, when my only friends got expelled, she took me under her wing and became my sidekick.  

"even the bravest lion, they need a sidekick"

my birthday beautys

emrys.

way too pretty.  best hair in the universe.  too nice for her own good.x

seeing you tonight

some daily beauty

when my socks are falling

noir & blanc

hanneli

but i can't understand you. speak english, please?

my besties

you know who you are.

this

growling

telling you how it is

things i love you more than:

cashew chicken, my rocking chair, chocolate (yes, really), beirut, my cannes sandals, phones, architecture in helsinki, reading, our video camera, matte nail polishes, top model tuesday, mini cokes, bike riding, callanetics, days off, the internet, my blog, the girl from i heart hiroshima, big couches, spaghetti bog, money, freddo frogs, my canon g10, reading, big t-shirts, double sundaes with mini m&ms on bottom, long hair, tan, tight jeans, all my movies, hot showers, modest mouse, punk, lula, a blank notebook, silly hats, sno cones, shopping,  mission, vegemite, united states of tara, marker pens, the darkness, fairy lights, kittens, eating in bed, cute babies, old music, brick walls, photos, soft tissues, ballet dancers, howling bells, facebook, the nanny, alexa chung, moisturizer, our walks, funny people, funny looking people, but despite the ridiculous amounts i drink, i really do love you more than water, and i can't live without it, and i can't breathe without you.

loving you in every way

le love

1992

even at 5 years old i knew a good comedy when i saw one.

Lloyd: And God said, "Where the Hell is Tim?" And there the Hell was Tim. And God said, "Let there be doors that open when they open, and close when they close." 
Tim: I was getting the bananas for the sardines. 

Lloyd: Tim, let me tell you about my life in the Big Apple. I have Hamlet's ghost on the phone for an hour every evening after rehearsal complaining that Polonius is sucking sourballs through his speeches. Claudius is off every afternoon doing a soap, and Gertrude is off the entire week doing a commercial for Gallo wine. Hamlet himself, would you believe, has come down with a psychological problem. Then, last night, Brooke rings me to say that she's very unhappy here and she's got herself a doctor's certificate for nervous exhaustion. I haven't got the time to find and rehearse a new Vicky. I have just one afternoon, while Hamlet sees his shrink and Ophelia starts divorce proceedings, to cure Brooke of her nervous exhaustion with no medical aids, except a little whiskey - you've got the whiskey - a few flowers - you've got money for the flowers - and a certain fading bedside manner. So, I haven't come to the theater to hear about other people's probelms. I've come to be taken out of myself, and, preferably, not put back again.