tic

Remember this past summer? Well I do not know if I have previously mentioned it, but I morally supported (and a slight bit of profound acting if I may say so myself) some friends in their film for the 48 Hour Film Festival. 

The film won Best Film, Best Directing, Best Editing, and Best Score, for the Salt Lake City division. Unfortunately it was not awarded anything in the big show this last weekend - but that does mean it is finally released to the public!

Some incredibly talented people are behind this masterpiece. I proud to call a few of them my good friends and that I got the chance to watch it come together.

 I am pleased to present you with "Tic."

Tic - Best Film: Salt Lake City 48hfp 2012 from Connor Rickman on Vimeo.

For those of you who receive this through email, the link is as follows: http://vimeo.com/43800919

P.S. I seriously had the best morning ever today. Life is good. : )

xo

oh hump day.

I am going to start off with the Verbaledudette Gift Guide item Day Three: Turtle Shell Wireless Boombox

I am all about helping the locals, supporting the underdog - you know.. the hipster shit. These guys are just trying to get their product off the ground. You can buy it through kickstarter: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/krissman/outdoor-techs-turtle-shell-rugged-wireless-boombox

Depending on how much you are willing to spend, depends on what you get for your gift. It is unique and fun and something any one of any age would enjoy! : )



Last night I read an article that warned all of San Francisco to prepare for flooding because a monsoon was heading our way. It rained really hard until ten o clock in the morning, then is was dry. No rain, no monsoon. Do you want to know where that left me? In pure disapointment. See, I got this super cool, chic, totally amazing, bubble umbrella (thanks papa) and I have not been able to use it to it's full potential because the rainfall has been meager. The forecaster guy on the news got my hopes up and then washed them away in a matter of minutes! (ULTIMATE SAD FACE.)

Although this did put a bit of a downer on my day, my day was still pretty good.

I did a presentation on Diane Arbus in my history of photography class, and well.. i do not think she really liked it because she did not ask to keep my slideshow and save it on her desktop like she did to the girl ahead of me. BUT give me some credit, I was trying to present something that we watched a twenty minute movie on right before. Everything I said had been previously presented with an older man with glasses and a British accent. I could not compare.

Savannah's Mother sent us a christmas tree to put up in our room to go along with the lights. (photos to come.)

Gabrielle sent me a letter that made my night! It had a mustache in it! And a penny!

To finnish off the evening I skyped with my loveliest of friends Sarah for four ours. This is what we did:

 what did you do with your wednesday night? : )


xoxo

right as rain

I write a lot when it’s raining.

It is just something I do – along with writing in coffee shops, about the coffee shops, while it’s raining.

No, this post is not being written at coffee shop, but it is raining.

So yes, it kind of fits in the theme.

I am sitting in my bed.

For those of you who have just caught on to this sensation, or for those of you who forgot, my bed is located underneath some else (it’s a bunk bed. I’m not literally sleeping underneath someone’s bed) and that bed also occupies a room with three other beds. I am the only one awake, which is a surprise because usually computer screens light up the small corners of the room way passed this hour.

It’s raining outside, rather hard actually. I can tell by the blur of the orange light on the building across the road and can hear the deep sloshing of fast paced vehicles on the busy streets. I wish I could throw all the windows open and write this while sitting in the middle of the room with the only light being the criss cross stripes of light from the windows on the walls.

My roommates do not believe in fresh air.

They also do not believe in opened blinds passed five o clock.

I think I write when it’s raining because the rain makes me nostalgic. It doesn’t make me sad.

 It makes me remember.

Remember the good times, the rough patches, the moments I wouldn’t change anything, the times I wish would have gone differently. This nostalgic feeling makes me feel like I need to share something. I don’t really want to share those memories though. So I come here, to this public domain, and describe in detail the objects around me. (We all remember the coffee garden posts where I pick apart the tastes, the smells, and the sites. Or how about me sitting at the dining room table talking about the lights and how bright they are against my parent’s studious faces.)

Posts like these are not really for you.

They are not informative about my life or the latest tunes those cool kids are listening to these days.

Posts like these are really for me.

They are something that the minute I start to write, usually introducing it with a poorly executed introduction, I cannot stop. My fingers constantly clicking keys, pressing onward quickly, not thinking about what I am going to write next, just writing down the thoughts as they present themselves no matter what shape or form.

My spelling is even more atrocious in these posts than usual. The page of text, first written in Word Document, is lined with red and green squiggles under misspelled words and unorganized thoughts. As my spelling gets worse, my vocabulary heightens and I randomly through in words like “executed” and “atrocious,” These thesauruses like words are often used wrong, kind of like my speech when I am nervous or not thinking before speaking.

It takes longer to spell check the document than to actually write it.

There is no music playing, no headphones on, no bar’s stereo turned up to loudly, but yet a song is tuning through my ears. It’s not a particular artist, chorus or key, but a combination of the rain, the street side laughter, and the quick click of the keys.

I hope my music isn’t disturbing my roommates.

I think this post that was originally brought on by the rain, which brought on the nostalgia, was also brought on by the idea that I will not be home for thanksgiving.

In Italy, I didn’t really notice that I missed it.

Yes, I took in the fact that my entire family was joining together to eat and laugh and unbutton their pants secretly at the table. But I was in a country who didn’t know what the holiday was and the time difference made the at home celebration seem like something that happened while I was sleeping and I just missed it.

That I just didn’t wake up in time.  

Not here. Here I see everything. Plans about where everyone is going and whom they are spending it with. I understand the reasons for me not going home – I don’t have a break from school and it isn’t worth it. But I still feel a bit homesick. I miss the company and warmth my family contributes. Even Skype sometimes can radiate their heat just by seeing their smiles.

Rain is my favorite weather. It is cleansing, simple, illuminating, and crisp. It is new. It is familiar.

I like to write when it’s raining. To me, it is inspiring.

Goodnight/Good Morning.

Have a wonderful Sunday.

I miss you.

Xo 

rocky horror picture show

life is good. i have not posted anything for a while and for that i apologize. it's been a little crazy over here on the bay - but a good crazy. this last weekend we partied hard for halloween and last night went to rocky horror. here are a few shots of the ladies from our photoshoots. enjoy.  :) 

happy halloween! 

i am not a robot

Title: Marina & the Diamonds 

San Francisco has been awkwardly hot the passed two days. People are in a panic. It is almost the next War of the Worlds as people try to go outside in sweaters and realize it is too hot. Pale skin is exposed rawly to the beams of the cloudless sun rays. There is no fog in sight. It has gone missing. I wore a strapless dress and nothing else today. I read my text books in the sunshine on Union Square Plaza. I am in a wonderful mood today and I thank helio-therapy. 

October has begun, just incase you did not know. Fall is here, the leaves should be changing, and the orange yellows and browns should be making their seasonal appearances on the wardrobes that walk to the streets to and from the coffee shops and work. 

To get into the holiday spirit, my family treated me (literally) to some fun packages. Yesterday I got a can in the mail. A soup sized can. As i opened it I was shocked to find there was no chicken noodle broth mixture, but a cute little note, candies, vampire fangs, black sparkle metallic nail polish, and boo mallow marshmallows. This was all from my sister. She even made me wait to open it until she could watch me do it on skype. Two and a half hours later I had finished all the candies and was almost in tears as I bid my sister (dressed in surgeon gear may I add) goodbye. She made my day.

Now I was coming home from class, I approached the doors, and the security guard couldn't wait to get out "Audrey, you have another package!" She was excited as she pulled out an orange box with pumpkin stickers and my Mother's handwriting. The minute I saw it, I knew my school teaching perfect handwriting too cute for words Mama had sent me something that no other college student would ever recieve. I rushed to my room, tore open the tape (which took longer than it should of. note to you: i had tape and envelopes) and almost died as i held halloween decorations in my hand. Mama sent me bats to put on the wall! With help from Emme and Phoebe, we now have bats flying from the mirror, to the door, and over to my neighbors door. We are the envy of the dorm. People have visited from other floors just to see the magic. People have offered me money to send to my mom so she can buy them some. I can confidently say that I have the best Mom in the world. No joke. 

I love Tuesdays because I have my favorite class, with my favorite teacher. I started my day getting a latte from Sugar Cafe, sipping it while I critiqued/analyzed/observed/argued about photographs as the sun rose through the windows for participation points. My class loved my final prints of different perspectives of Emme. I will give you the link once I post them, but I am incredibly proud of my work. Our next assignment is to shoot form and narrative. I love pieces that scream stories, provoke questions, make you want to know more. I have the perfect idea in my mind right now, it is hard to explain, so just cross your fingers and I will show you the final piece. 

I printed out my resume today and I am ready to turn it in to a coffee shop five blocks from my house. Cross your fingers. 

I am going to end this post with a product review. Now, before coming here my Mother and I were shopping at good ol' Costco. It was here that we stumbled upon some new razors for my shaver. They didn't need shower cream, it was like built onto it. You know what I mean? Well they work great, but they get sticky, they never dry, and they melt every time you get it wet. They only lasted a few shower uses and the little plastic piece that surrounds the blade actually fell off when i picked it up this morning. Although they are cute. Do not buy them. 

Ciao Bellas. xoxo 

chilled and heart ached

Tonight San Fran is chilly and windy. Outside I can hear the chanting of what sounds like entire football team. I guess I should not call it chanting, for the sounds they are making are not words but fall more along the lines of animal noises. It is the weekend for me and my roommates now, so the room has a studious feel as we all work on the homework we let stack up over the passed week.

I met my film teacher today. For those of you who do not remember, he was missing in action last week because he was being a critic for the Toronto Film Festival. I absolutely love him. Jesse is his name and he is incredibly passionate about all films and what they have to give. You can see it in the way that he talks. He knows what he is saying. He is engaging as he walks through the large auditorium, attempting to make eye contact with each student. His presence makes you feel immediately involved and interested.  I think this class is going to be a lot of work, but I am really going to enjoy it. Really really enjoy it. Kayleigh (my roommate) just transferred into the class, so it was fun to have her with me. I made a new friend also. His name is Ed and he drives a motorcycle. He seems nice.

Dinner tonight was yummy, but also a little upsetting. It was crowded in the little café; most of the larger tables were taken. We (my roommates and I) sat in the back. The table next behind us was a four top. A lone boy sat there eating his dinner. He arrived about ten minutes after we got there. He was in the middle of eating a not even half empty plate of food when these two girls and their boyfriends approached the table. The one girl asked him to move so that her and her friends could all sit together. He collected his stuff and just left, throwing away all the food on his plate. I may be being overdramatic, but it kind of upset me that these people thought they had the right to make someone move just so they could all sit together. It upset me that he just walked out. How was he feeling or thinking about? I feel bad that I didn’t say something, invite him to our table, pull a chair over, but part of me was in astonishment and didn’t want to make a big deal and embarrass him even more. I had to tell that to you. It bothered me. I don’t know.

Hope you have a wonderful Thursday night. Happy Birthday to my dancing twin Audrey! xoxo

cloud nine

I have reached it. I have reached the point where I officially know that I have made the right choice in moving out here and pursuing my passion at this school.

I had my first class today in a large white building that I am guessing used to be a church (or a Roman Palace.. because you know hipster city San Fran had Romans before it was cool.) The sound of the professor's aids voices carried through the high chandelier lit ceilings with echos. The class was History of Film: Post World War Two and I can already tell I am going to enjoy it. After already being in three classes similar to this in my past studies, I know that it will captivate my attention and yet still be a challenege. I know I will walk away from it knowing more than i go in with, and to me, that is always important. We watched the beginning of a film and talked about why we love movies and a few of our favorites. I tried to make friends with three different people sitting around me and ALL of them moved to a different row during the break. I know it was not because I spelled funny (i spell like Victoria Secret,  who doesn't like that?) and It wasn't because I said something wrong (i held my tongue on my usual sarcastic remarks) but yet I was alone at the end. Hmph. These film majors are going to be a lot harder to crack than I thought.

After class I was still excited about the days to come, even though I was still friendless. I went to dinner by myself, waiting in a long line to get into the cafe. Once I got there, it was pretty crowded, with only a few extra seats avaiable. The lady at the front desk (who scans my card) asked if "it was okay if I sat with someone I did not know or would i like to wait for an empty table." I practically screamed "force me to sit with random people and maybe I will get friends!" And guess what, it worked. I sat down with two guys and a girl. Pretty soon their other friend showed up. They included me in every conversation possible  (except for the video game one... i had no clue what they were talking about.) They are pretty nerdy, but also pretty normal and were a lot of fun to be around. They even asked for my number at the end! I am proud to say that Robert, Nick, Kyle, and Cali are my new friends!

Tonight was supposed to be some "Fashion Night Out" thing at H&M, but it was kind of a dud. So here I am, relaxing in my hip dorm room, practically high on life.

I have no classes until monday, so the weekend starts tomorrow. Phoebe and I have planned a lunch date which will turn into shopping because we both have want little slippers to wear around the dorm and just because shopping (even if it's just looking) is fun. : )

I hope you had as wonderful of a day as I did. Good night and pleasant dreams.

Carpe Diem.

This is one of those coming to age posts. I know that most of you will leave at this point because you were hoping for more naked men - I understand and respect that.

Lives are like novels. As cliché as it may sound, we spend each day writing a chapter. In each chapter we introduce new characters, dive deeper into others, take adventures, or just keep traveling on the same path. In Mrs. Funston’s freshman English class, I learned that the climax of a story is when something happens in the plot that changes it so dramatically that you know nothing will be the same after. In other words, everything will be different.

 In life stories, I don’t think the climax is one certain event. It may be in yours, but not in mine. In my life, my climax is a series of events. I think the climax of my life, so far, was this last year. I learned so much about myself, I grew up, I took chances, I felt risks, and I accepted consequences – good and bad.

Before I moved to Italy I had never been on my own. I had not been to camp and I rarely had sleep overs, always making up excuses on why I could only have a late over or calling my mom in the middle of the night to pick me up. I had gone on the skateboarding tour for months away from home, but I always had (at least) my Father present. I graduated from high school and leaped into a surreal experience. I went from always holding my family’s hands, to flying my way to a foreign country where I did not know anyone, the language, where to go, or what to expect. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. I was scarred, but never did I ever regret doing it. Italy changed my life. Of course the culture and aspects of a foreign country were striking and eye opening, but suddenly I was forced to make decisions between good or bad, motivate myself to succeed at school, fix my own meals, and wash my own clothes. It sounds silly, but I was forced to grow up. Forced to experience. Forced to find out who I really was. In Italy I realized what mattered, what made me who I was, what I wanted to be, and how lucky I am.

 

This summer I discovered a lot about myself. I took my mindset from Italy and become conscious of where I stood. I had my first real job - and Market Street will never be the same. I made new friends and created stronger friendships with the old. I also lost a few. I gained confidence as I stood up for myself. In my favorite book The Perks for Being a Wallflower, Charlie says, “We accept the love we think we deserve.” I finally learned what that meant, that I deserve the world and not to let people pull me down or make me think otherwise. I realized who made me feel good about myself, who I could be myself around, who I could trust - and who didn’t/couldn’t.

In Love is a Mixtape, Rob Sheffield wrote “She worried way too much what people thought of her, wore her heart on her sleeve, expected too much from people, and got hurt too easily. She kept other people's secrets like a champ, but told her own too fast. She expected the world not to cheat her and was always surprised when it did.” It was on page thirty-one that it dawned on me that this is exactly who I was.

Now look at me.

(please note that the stress from packing did not result in alcoholism.) 

 Ha. But really. Tomorrow I leave to San Francisco to study at the Academy of Art University.

When you are little you talk about what you want to do when you grow up. You draw pictures of your dream room in notebooks, you plan your prom dress, go from wanting to be a princess, to Hannah Montana, to a teacher. Then one day, you realize that you REALLY can become anything you want. I cannot tell you the exact day I figured out that I could be a photographer as a career, but I can tell you that once the seed was planted in my head I could not stop feeding it nourishment. I kept telling myself the negatives: the lack of pay, the uncertainty, what will people think of you choosing art as a job? Will they think you took the easy way out? All of those are still in the soil of my ambition, but they are pushing me harder. Prove them wrong. Be happy every time you go to work. Put your best out there. Make someone notice. That small seed that once sat in the back of my mind is now a tangled vine, large and ever growing. Consuming.

Some gardens grow forever without being taken care of. I sit here saying that I am so fortunate to have the full support of my family to chase this crazy dream of mine. I hear the stories from people who graduated from high school with me about how they went to college because that is just what is expected of them, status quo, what else would they do? My parents sat me down when I graduated and told me to enjoy it. They believe that education is important, but take my time. If I don’t go to school right away, that is fine, but make sure that whatever I am doing, I am doing with my whole heart and taking advantage of every day. How many people can say that their parents want them to be nothing but happy? My Mother comes from a family where the in state University was the only choice and if she wanted to go, she was going to pay for it. My Father moved across the country because he wanted to ski and Utah had better slopes then Michigan. Two completely different outlooks, backgrounds, and stories – but they both agree on doing whatever they can to make sure my life is perfect. I could not be anymore grateful for what they have done. My parents have (and constantly continue) to support me finically, emotionally, and confidently. Here is a shout out, because I could never thank them enough for everything they do for me. I want to be them when I grow up. 

Thank you for the constant support, love, friendship, and help from my family and friends. You are the true reason that I have the opportunities I do in life.

San Francisco: I hope you are ready.

Here is to this crazy thing called life and how addictive it is to live it with arms wide open, Carpe Diem. 

screw the idea of waiting for magic, everyday is magic.

I have been waiting for a sign, an inspiration, a moment of pure overflow of word vomit to appear in my lap. I was waiting for something to fall from the sky or for someone to yell a story from across a room. I was waiting for magic, but I came to realize that magic is in the every day simplicities. I realized that every single day something happens that is important at creating my life story. I had lots to say while I was in Italy because I was so fortunate to have the opportunity to live and thrive in a foreign country, but I am also very lucky to wake up each day in Salt Lake City, Utah with a wonderful family, good friends, and a place to call home. So screw the idea of waiting for magic, everyday is magic. And what you just witnessed was me having a moment of clarity, a moment of thankfulness, and a realization that every day needs to be lived like it’s my last.

You finish reading that and now the sigh of relief floods out of your mouth because Audrey’s sentimental, tender time is over. Now it’s on to the things Internet junkies love to hear. For example I recently (like yesterday) purchased an iPhone. It is incredibly addicting and I personally apologize to anyone I ever publically made fun of for being so obsessed with an electronic. This device can do everything, like Instagram and Foresquare while Tweeting about it and posting everything on my (and your) Facebook timeline, ALL AT THE SAME TIME. I feel like I am part of club now, the iPhone Club. We should get jackets.

Well, I just checked my iPhone and it said that it was past my bedtime. Here’s to better posts in the future and to being thankful for everything we are presented with. xoxo

19.

Thursday, March 1st was Justin Beiber's 18th Birthday.
Thursday, March 1st was also Kesha's Birthday.
Friday, March 2nd was Dr. Suess's Birthday.
But most importantly.

Thursday, March 1st was my 19th birthday, and I have been celebrating ever since. I warn you, what you are about to read will make you incredibly jealous because my birthday weekend was amazing. Let's start with Thursday. I was awoken to fire, filling up my room. The heat was pounding against my drool stained face and the echoing sounds of my Mother and Sister singing Happy Birthday out of tune hummed the room. It was such a sweet surprise, literally. My family brought me a donut in bed, not just any donut, a donut with glazed and then chocolate and then sprinkles and the a candle. We are talking, the king of all donuts. I looked like this kid:

(Please note that this photograph was borrowed from burlingamebarley's photostream and I will return it when I am done. Don't call the occupy website clan or whatever they are called that will get me in trouble.) I received a glitter eye liner from my sister and new outfits from my parents. They are so thoughtful. The rest of the day I went to class, did things that normal people do, and then I was taken out to dinner at Vintos, one of my favorite restaurants, before class.

In film class I watched Moulin Rouge, it could not get any better. And well, it really didn't. See, when I was in class, Utah experienced the wettest snow storm they have had all year (do not quote me on that, I am not a weather professional and I do not have a white blazer to wear when it is snowing.) I came out to find my car looking like this:

Except there was no smiley face and the car was black, not green. Anyways, driving home was scary. My little buggy boop boop is not made for the slopes. Driving down an averagely steep hill, my car lost control. Slowly. But. Surely. I glided down the hill, my foot slamming on the breaks, my heart racing, and my mouth gaping with no sound. The emergency break was pulled, but nothing was stopping. I felt like I was going a hundred mile per hour, roller coaster speed (but in all actuality the boats in Its a Small World in Disneyland move faster then how I was.) I turned horizontal in the lane and stopped barley before bumping the silver four wheeled drive car in front of me. My head instantly hurt and I was shaking. The rest of the ride home was alright, but with a constant fear of loosing control again.

On Friday I had my friend's birthday party thing. It was Tangled theme, because I simply love that movie and like to pretend that I look like Repunzel. We ate, partied, danced, partied, and laughed incredibly hard. I had an amazing night.

Chatting with Saia and Bella. It was such a sweet surprise to see them:) 

A few of the party gang.

Just Dance and sisterly love

The Party Crashers who were such a joy to have around:) 

On Saturday, I had my family party, which was equally as enjoyable. On Sunday, my Father came home for ten hours, which was a nice treat. I really had a great weekend and am thankful for my wonderful family and friends.

Monday was my Father's birthday, Friday the 9th is my Mothers, and the 20th is Gabrielle's! Let the march madness begin!

xoxo

And while we are on the topic of mustaches…

Oh what Tuesday this one has turned out to be. First of let me tell you that my hair looked fabulous today. At least I thought so. Last night, I slept with my hair in a fishbone braid. When I took it out twelve hours later I had the sexy beach hair every ocean lover wants. What a great day to start my morning. The second eventful thing, after eating my yogurt, was taking my Italian Art History Final. Five different print outs of pieces of art were placed before me. For each one I had to identify and explain the piece, and then there was a second question that had to do with the detail of either the artist or the style of the piece.  I feel like I did all right, but it was the best I could do, so I am satisfied. (I also had my Photography Final Critique.. but that was a joke. Everyone loved my work. Actually everyone loved everyone's work. Charles just talked mostly. He does that often.) 

Today in the streets of Firenze there were wild protests. I do not know what these men were fighting about, but the city is on edge. There were helicopters flying around (this is really rare) and I was surrounded by men in uniform with bats, and helmets with face masks running to “designated protest areas.” It was exciting. If I get any news on what exactly was going down, I will inform you. Currently the rumor is something with a neighboring African country…. But that has not be confirmed. Don’t worry mom, I am safe and sound.

Isabella and Felix came over for dinner tonight. For those of you who do not remember, they are my two friends from the break dancing group. We had a delicious pasta dinner (surprised?) and then played a few rounds of the card game Spoons and finished with a great game of Bullshit. There were lots of laughs. I am going to miss those two.

We finished the night (when I say we, I mean Joanna and Rachel and I) by watching the film The Truman Show. It is hard to explain. I suggest you look it up. Watch it. Then watch it again. It was a mind blower.

Verbaledudette’s Gift Guide Item Number thirteen is: Something that is off the market: The Parmesan Cheese Pencil Sharpener.

(Just so you know, before this I wanted to put a copy of FUKT magazine on, but I could not find if you could purchase it! Is it an online only thing? This gift thing is a disappointment. Look at this link http://www.fukt.de/ and tell me if you can find a price. Who knew trying to play Santa’s helper could be so darn frustrating.) I give up. Listen folks, I have been collecting cool things for the passed two months and the last few nights I have become heart broken when the truth about these objects come out. I was thrilled to find this product. A pencil that shaves off cheese is genius! I was excited to show you this wonderful device. It’s unique, it’s classy, it’s fun, it’s artsy, it sold out completely after the first two weeks of sale time and the Germans are not making any more. What kind of world do we live in!?

Where to find it online so you can at least look at it: http://jazarah.net/meet-the-parmesan-cheese-pencils/

Price: Haha. Funny.

Let’s try this again. Today’s gift item from your favorite blogger is: TOO EXPENSIVE FOR YOU but I have to show it to you anyway. It is the Rocking Italian Scooter Deluxe.

I stumbled on this beauty a month ago and it was not until tonight that I noticed, not only that it was a lot of moolah, but also it is hand made from a guy that lives in Turin, Italia. How perfect is that? In his little “about this” section, he claims that the one you receive may be a little different because he makes the special for order. He may charge the big bucks, but considering what the process must be, I would buy this. I would buy this, but then not let my children get near it.

Where to find it: http://www.etsy.com/listing/41381029/rocking-italian-scooter-deluxe

Price: $2,300.00

Okay, here is a gift closer to your price range. (I am guessing Bill Gates and other million dollar owners are not interested in my ramble. I am guessing my audience is more normal.) Introducing the: ‘Stache Labbit Plush

Do not ask me what  a labbit is, but isn’t this the cutest hipster stuffed animal you have ever laid eyes on? Your kids would love to find this in their stockings! Even your boyfriend/girlfiend would love to get this while out on a romantic date that you will do before anyone else cause your cool and that is the hipster way to do things. Embrace the ‘stache my ‘sters.

Where to find this: http://www.kidrobot.com/Toys/PlushToys/stacheLabbitPlush7Inch.html

Price: $15.95

And while we are on the topic of mustaches… you might as well consider getting these bad boys too. Perfect for those men, and women, in your life who can’t grow fuzz beneath their nostrils. TA DA:  The Sunstache

Again, I do not know why they call it that. But you cannot resist these fabulous pair of shades. Get one for the whole family! Hey, even old Grandpa Joe would like to grow a bushy mustache once again! It’s a hell of a lot better than those ones with the fake nose because you do not have to breathe in plastic and you look natural. . . ish.

Where to find: http://us.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?itemdescription=true&itemCount=80&startValue=1&selectedProductColor=&sortby=&id=23510506&parentid=SHOP_STOCKINGSTUFFERS&sortProperties=+subCategoryPosition,&navCount=0&navAction=jump&color=&pushId=SHOP_STOCKINGSTUFFERS&popId=GENERAL_CATEGORY&prepushId=&selectedProductSize=&cm_mmc=Social-_-FB-_-20111202-_-sunstache

Price: $8.00

And here is a crazy picture of me because I felt like there wasn't enough random on this post. 

Tomorrow I have my Italian final. Wish me luck! Have a good night my friends. Stay classy.

P.S. Did you noticed I did not talk about the weather? You should be proud. 

P.P.S. The weather was bright and sunny all day. 

P.P.S.S. I just could not help it. 

everyday is so wonderful. suddenly it's hard to breathe.

I am sitting in the “family room” area of the apartment. Both Joanna and Rachel are in bed, but my mind is full awake with constant thoughts that the idea of putting it to rest seems distant and unrecognizable. Today was good. Nothing new to report, other than I succeeded in Italian class without being corrected every word. Therefore, I would call this day productive simply for that reason.  My stomach kind of aches, but it can’t be because I had three cookies instead on my usual two.  Italian treats just do not work that way.  I haven’t really been getting any sleep lately. My mind has been working over time, a constant clock, ticking through the hours without a water break. I have been thinking of everything. Of going home, of leaving, of what I missed, of what is to come. My family, my friends, my choices, my art, how I have changed, what I want to become. I have been thinking of all the people I never told how much they mean to me and how much it worries me that I will never get to say it. Sometimes I forget how fragile life is until a death strikes close to home and rattles everything into place. 

life’s too short to even care at all.

 Hello from my bed. It may be only 7:00 but I already have my fuzzy socks on and am positioned under the covers. The lights are even off. No, I am not ready for bed; it is just kind of really chilly in this apartment, and I didn’t want to sit in those uncomfortable squeaky chairs in the kitchen. Italians obviously do not believe in decent warming devices in their apartments (probably because they do have a lot more hair on their bodies than other countries… but STILL. I am a hairless American who needs to be warm!) Okay, I am over exaggerating a little bit. Truth is, my bed is comfortable and I like the way the comforter practically glows in the dark because it is so neon yellow.

I apologize for such an awful introduction paragraph. Lets try this again.

Young the Giant’s most recent album is playing through my headphones right now as my feet are cuddling underneath my neon yellow comforter. The only light coming into the room is from the sliding propped open door. This square shadow of light (play on words, eh?) is enough light to frame Rachel’s bed in a halo like fashion. I am wearing my “your blog sucks” tee shirt and feeling really good about life.

Now, wasn’t that better?

Italy was beautiful today. This morning, I woke up with a burst of energy that needed to be set free. I harvested this emotion by going out on an hour long stroll, wandering through streets, kicking leaves up in the small park to the left, and watching old men row boats down the Arno river. It was truly refreshing.

I simply love this city. Walking home from school after class today, I really tried to soak in everything I passed. I have become so accustom to the route from casa mia (my house) to the school, that I sometimes take for granted how magical Firenze is. For example, as I was walking I breathed in deeply (with my new nose!!) the smells of home cooking, cigars, and that certain Italian city smell (no, not the pee and beer smell thank you, there is another one that I cannot put a name to.) I was walking down the little side street and I noticed the steam coming out of what looked like an air vent for one of the walled apartments. The way it swirled up and dispensed into the cold air as thick white petals was entrancing. I still smile at the lines of clothes that hang out of windows, even though it is a common sight in my days here. Now that I have lived her for so long, I can look passed the tourist monuments and really fall in love with the sweet subtitles.

I have begun to develop the feeling that every city is like this. Salt Lake City is just as beautiful as here, but I do not take the time to notice its details because I realize that I have taken it for granted. You never know what you have until it’s gone right?

Italian language is one of my least favorite classes because I hate being put on the spot and failing miserably when I am. BUT on the plus side, I love the challenge of trying to learn this new, beautiful, language. I want to learn! Oh goodness, my life is so hard. Just kidding. : ) Italian class was alright today. My fingertips were really cold. I have mentioned my pronunciation/spelling problem before, well now in class it is kind of a joke. For example, we were changing verbs from present to past tense, and Joanna chose my word to be the hardest one in the whole wide world (not really) to pronounce just because we all know how I st st stutter. I cannot remember it now and cant look it up in my notes cause I left my notebook at school, but know that it was hilariously hard (for me.) Oh well. Italian class is one of those classes that you dread going to, but once you are there you are fine, and everyone leaves laughing. Nicola may be an awful teacher, but he quite the character. 

This has nothing to do with anything, but it made me laugh. I thought you would need a little giggle on your Monday. 

Thanksgiving is obviously not celebrated here (if you do not know why… you have some serious problems that you need to figure out before reading any further. Google it.) Despite the country we are living in, Joanna, Rachel and I have decided to make a feast. We made a list of items we like to eat and divided them up between the three of us. I am in charge of a fruit and mashed potatoes. I am thinking maybe doing my family’s favorite apples in orange juice mixture and maybe some pomegranates.

Grandma, when Michael reads this to you, please know that I will not do your mashed potatoes justice and I am sending up my white flag. There is no competition; you have already won. Hopefully I will come in at least a close fifth place on the “good mashed potatoes” list. It cannot be very hard right? I mean I do not have a blender or anything... Is it unsanitary to use a rock? (I am only joking Rachel & Joanna; you honestly do not need to worry about if there are going to be dirt and other earthy materials in your buttery potatoes.) 

All I can say is thank goodness I am not in charge of the turkey.

Music Monday Update: Check out the song “Hotel Song” by Regina Spektor. It is a current love of mine.

I finished Like Water for Chocolate. Please read it. I had chills of wonderful emotion through out the entire thing. It is an easy, magical, read. (Please note that the picture to the right is not the real cover of the book, but an illustration someone did. I found it on google and liked it. That is all. ) 

Also, in the news of the social networking, I think you will find great pleasure in the new follower my twitter account has gained. “Titsoffire” has indeed started to follow my unwitty, too quotey, status update, tweet feed. I feel honored, really. Not many people can say that someone with such a great name is one of their 92 followers. 

My final statement deals with a lot of exclamation marks. Prepare yourself:

MY BEASTIE BECCA IS COMING TO VISIT ME OFFICIALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for reading! Ciao. Xoxo

*title: “Cough Syrup” by Young the Giant

tokyo police club.

"turning into black and white, underneath the swinging lights, barely awake, but I still have my stripes, because you're the killer with the colored kite." - Bambi

"its why i had to keep you in the dark, less big words and more exclamation marks" - Big Difference

"my hook catches your lip and i reel you in and as you rise up to my floor, the hook impales our two tongues" - Cut Cut Paste

don't dial any numbers off of "how is my driving?" bumper stickers unless you want to have sex for 15% off.

I am sitting on deck this morning, just got home from the gym, and I am eating Special K Granola with "a touch of honey." Yum. It tastes good but there are not enough large clumps of honey granola goodness. Bummer. Anyways. I had planned on writing this post yesterday, and then when that didn't happen, last night, but that did not happen because I did not get home till the break of dawn. (Okay i lied. I got home at midnight, but one is allowed to exaggerate for emphasis that I was out last night late.) So anyways. I do not know where I was going with this. . . OH I should tell you about what happen to my mother and I driving today.

So we were driving right, me and mother, (i feel like I said that already) and we came across this car with a bumper sticker on the back that read "How is my driving? Call 1-800- EAT- SHIT" (pardon my french) And my Mother- being the carefree, wonderful, curious, women she is- said "I wonder if that is really someone's number?" To me that clearly was a hint to dial it and find out. I typed it in carefully making to spell EAT SHIT correctly. It rang once. Than disconnected me. I immediately received a text message. I opened it up and it read something along the lines of " Want to have steamy sex tonight with a hot babe in your area? Reply Yes to this number right now and you can get 15% off your next sex session" SO that was abbreviated and it did not have all the language and vulgar terms- i thought i would do you a favor and nit expose your innocent ears to such language. Moral of the story is don't dial any numbers off of "how is my driving?" bumper stickers unless you want 15% off sex.

I think it is high time for a music monday! Yay! I know it is not Monday, and it is in fact Tuesday, but you were deprived of music mondays yesterday so I would like to catch up. (I know this will be only the 2nd time Music Monday's has happened, but let us forget about that slight detail. Okay? Okay.) Today's musical artist is Memory Tapes.  (You probably have not heard of them due to the fact you are probably musically uneducated. But That is why I am here. )

Hometown: New Jersey.

The lineup: Dayve Hawk (vocals, music).

The background: The music of Memory Tapes is somehow creamy yet computerised, rapturous yet rhythmic, danceable yet dreamy. Dreamy is the word: Dayve Hawk, who is Memory Tapes, makes electronic dance music that is like a dream you might have had of a bunch of ghosts, of tribal dance around a blundering fire, or a swirly, psychedelic disco – the songs sound like what you have always imagined the aforementioned artists would make, even if you never got round to hearing them; like all the descriptions, all the evocative adjectives, you have ever read about them, transposed into sound. It's the best thing i've heard all week. (So that is a lie. I do not choose favorites. Songs might get left out.) 

Mr. Tapes is quite aloof and elusive, even if he does state that it's not his intention "to be wilfully mysterious". He's a stay-at-home dad of 28, "just some dude from southern New Jersey", who's "not that great with computers", can't drive, and doesn't own a mobile phone. Typical. He's remixed Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Peter Björn and John, and Britney Spears, which has predictably wowed the blogerati, and Michael Jackson's "people" have invited him to do one for a remix album, although he insists, "I'm not a DJ, and I'm not trying to rock a party" (even though he rocks my party) He describes himself as "a real spaced-out kid – I used to walk around in circles and envision this world happening around me. I would just come home from school and mess around in the basement until bedtime: recording, hooking things up, learning different instruments." He began working on material for Memory Tapes in high school, and ended up "having an email correspondence with the Cocteau Twins", who offered to bring him to England to record at September Sound, but it didn't happen – no phone = no plane ticket to Blighty. Now he makes budget-lavish, languorous disco, over which he warbles ethereally – many assume he's a woman. He's not, he's just in tune with the liquid and libidinal.  

Memory Tapes - "Bicycle" from Jamie Harley on Vimeo.

Memory Tapes : Treeship from Chris May on Vimeo.

Site & Sound: Memory Tapes from VanLou Media on Vimeo.

Enjoy. 

Lets talk about that lightning last night. Incredible. I do wish that it was raining, but the flashes in the night sky were insane. Last night in general was pretty enjoyable. It was nice and needed. Especially for my beastie Becca- who had a bad day. Here's a list: (you know how I love my lists) 

• do not have the dude behind the counter open your sparkling water unless you are going to go drink it right that. it will go flat and it will loose flavor and you will end up drinking it for hours and people will think you are weird
• did you know you can not really see your computer screen when you are out in the sunlight working? well you can't. 
• i edited my musical library last night and gave every song a title and artist (i had a lot that didn't have titles are artists.) I am proud of myself. Happy Ipod. 
• thats what she said jokes are not funny unless sung about in a song by Kramer and Max
• according to some people- shark week is more important that hanging out with friends
• Bonniville has a nice play ground but you should not go in the tunnel because things happen in there... AHH 
• Baja Blast Mountain Dew is not as good as others might say- but it is a taco bell original 
• you should always carry around a piece of paper and a pen so Paul can write down the titles to every song on your cd that you do not know the names of. 
• Jocelyn got a new cat. 
• and last but not least... how many blow jobs is enough blow jobs? 

Have a good day folks. Love you. xoxo