in the blink of an eye

why ain't this gif workin?

Homies

My dear, dear (ex) roommate is leaving for Portland tomorrow.

And I am le sad.

Nike.... you may have stolen him for now, but this fight is far from over!!!

Rock it, kiddo.

Like I know you will.

Love,

+Kelsi

i'm eating cold leftover indian food out of tupperware

The life of a "work-from-home consultant" is a glamourous one at that.

I'm now smack dab in the middle of my second week of this whole home office thang... so I decided to share a little insight.

Below is a pro/con list:

In general, so far so good.

I also feel compelled to mention that my outfit of choice (for the past week) has been an oversized TOMS sweatshirt (given back to me from my father), oversized yoga pants, and Uggs. (no bra)

I feel like a Natalie Dee character!!!

new york is a week away!

and i'm scared!

but good scared!

excited scared!

i'm a gif! click me! ----->

well why am i scared you ask?

preconceived notion #1:

you can't wear light colors because you get SO DIRTY

preconceived notion #2:

people don't smile

preconceived notion #3:

you will get lost on the subway and end up in the ghetto

preconceived notion #4:

(consequently) you will get mugged

preconceived notion #5:

um....

okay so i guess my list of preconceived notions is short. and life in san francisco should have prepared me to face them anyways.

guess i'm only left with good excited!

how great thou art

flowers. contracts. infographs. tingly butt.

heal me, coconut water

i need energy to take on all the opportunities life is throwing my way right now.

there's no time for SICK!

focus

focus

focus

focus

breaking up is hard to do. growing up is even harder.

I watched Breaking Upwards last night.

Andy's L.A. trips mean I get full control of the remote and Netflix que. And you know what that means!! → indie romance.

(or Say Yes to the Dress, but I'm out of episodes)

The reviews out there are mixed, but I personally LOVED it. A confused, over-analyzing, city-dwelling "hip" 20-something with a history of long-term relationships (and long-term breakups) myself... I couldn't help but relate.

Love, and the decay of love, is all-encompassing. (Which is why I do not find this film self-indulgent — I find it honest.) I've never seen a film that hit on all the little intricacies of a young relationship. The humor, the jealousy, the fear, the compassion, the accusations, the irritation, the genuine appreciation, the struggle between maturity and unrealistic demands... essentially: the madness.

Probably the reason it feels so genuine, is because the actors play themselves. This is a true story about true people and their true relationship struggles. I'm grateful and amazed that they wrote their experience down, re-lived it through acting, filmed it, edited it, produced it, and shared it with the world. Kudos.

People will take away many things from the movie. As for me, I was able to reminisce. I was able to ache. And to appreciate. All of my past emotional rollercoasters were justified.

Then again, I also came away wondering why the characters thought they had it so bad to begin with. In this over-stimulated, instant gratification, rich, spoiled, westernized world we live in... people forget how to appreciate.

Biking down the same roads every day...? How droll!

Watching a favorite TV show each Tuesday...? Outdated!

Sex with someone who alreadyintimately knows each curve of your body...? uhhh Lame!

To an extent, life (and love is a part of life) is what you make of it. It's easy to get bored. It's also easy to cure your boredom. Just think outside of yourself. And don't blame others for your unhappiness.

I appreciate a lot more these days.

Turns out... that's growing up.

go'on 'n' gitchur adventure on

ladybird, ladybird

My mom just found an old letter from my grandmother:

Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home.

Your house is on fire, Your children all gone.

All but one and her name is Jill.

And she's quite safe on the windowsill.

This is the way she sang about the "lady bug."

Old time English.

She is a clever little beetle, she lives in the meadow and gets all her babies out flying before anyone can burn the stubble or cut the hay.

So tell Kelsi not to worry. :)

I'm sorry about the ice cream machine. Penny's had them in the catalogue but when I called to order one she said they were out of stock til after Christmas. Ill get one then.

I'm sending this so she has something from Grandma. I made Quincy's tights out of a pair of my old socks. I hope their dresses fit. I love you much all of you.

Mom

Her handmade presents were always the best. And because I loved them so much, she taught me how to crochet for myself. I still remember sitting at the foot of her leather chair, her pebble creek voice repeating "knit one, purl two... knit one, purl two..."

Even after that robin's egg blue needle found its way to the back of my nightstand drawer... and after the rolls of fibered wool collected dust... her voice stays with me.

It's about time I find that hook.

couple-o-animals

i gotchoo babe.

twitchy twitchy twitchy

artsy projects can only keep me entertained so long.

i need a real job.

my computer's view today

i scream healthy lifestyle.

haydee

nothing to do at work means long lunches with friends and plenty of time for artistic development!

you're a dream to me.

i had a pet lobster once

actually, it was a crawfish.
named howard.

speaking of howard...
while biking through the 6th & howard intersection this afternoon, i noticed that the little white walking symbol starts a considerable amount of time before the light turns green. i'm talking a good 3 seconds. (and this is city pace... so it's really like four weeks).

nowhere else in SOMA is like that. just good ol' 6th street.

i bet it's for the denziens.
crack and weed and steel reserve usually give you the sense that you're crossing a crosswalk eons quicker than you actually are. (besides racing crawfish, i also spent my childhood watching after school specials on PBS and re-writing my D.A.R.E. essay 16 times.)














ohhhhh 6th street..........
the beauty horror novelty personality.

¿ǝɹǝɥ ʇǝb ǝʍ pıp ʍoɥ

a twenty-something staring through the bookstore glass
shivering
at a romantic notion of living
the jack kerouac material-free life

while in the very next doorframe

a man lays upon grey concrete
shivering
from chill, hunger, and withdrawal
in his fleece-free sleeping bag


"oh... valencia-a-a. with your blood still cold on the ground."

metaphoreplay

you are a friendly smile in a sea of republicans
you are a DQ® dipped cone on a humid summer day
you are more hope than the obama campaign on november 5th
you are more authentic than that first episode of survivor
you are a sweet familiar in a world of strangers
you are a G chord in a score of minor sixths
you are like water in a concrete desert
you are like coming home

i'm an ADULT

standing on the corner of market and 8th today, slurping the overflowing gutter of my to-go cup-o-joe, i was struck with the realization that i may not know what the hell i'm doing.

in life.

at life.

and this wasn't just your ordinary, "yeah there's coffee dripping down my forearm while my left foot is standing in a urine trail and two of my three tote bags are losing their tupperware containers."
rather... this was a rare moment of paralyzing fear.

thoughts flooded my cranium.

i'm too young for this!
i'm only a baby, an infant!
i know nothing! i can do nothing!
i CERTAINLY shouldn't be trusted with myself!!!!

it took a good couple of stoplight successions to regather my composure and onward march. regather i did, but the doubts still lingered.

perhaps it is something that everyone goes through. and not just once, but time and time again... when the going gets tough and the confidence|mobile is putt-puttering for some more hope|propane.

frightening as it is to recognize that you're on your own... that's just part of the deal.
there's no time to mope.
there is life to be lived, and there is shit to get done.

plus, big girls don't cry.

evan, this is for you.

i must be dreaming or

we're on to something.