Bags Grow on Trees.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Holding a grunge.
Tribute to Little Stevie.

Today, outside of my art teacher's house, there was a little birdie just sitting there. At first, everyone thought it was a poor, baby bird who has lost his mama; nope, not a baby bird, but a dying bird. I told my teacher that I'll take him home since I know vet in my neighborhood. I wanted to go straight home, but my mom wanted to buy shoes (see last post). When we finally got into the car, Stevie was dead. We buried him in of Irvine's Kohl's parking lot, near the gas station. I nearly cried. I've only known him for 2 hours.
P.S. I don't even know the sex of little Stevie. We just assume he was a boy; Stevie seemed like a comforting name for him.
P.P.S. I have photos of little Stevie on his deathbed... but I don't think anybody want to see a dying bird... if you do, I advise you to see a pyschologist.
P.P.P.S. On a comforting note, I did get a pair of white Converse. I wanted these very gorgeous looking, black, strappy heels, but my mom just wouldn't cave...
Monkey See, Monkey Do, Monkey wants to be just like you.




My mom's handiwork is amazing. I found these old 90's jeans that don't fit me anymore (and when I say 90's I mean those smal-waisted, straight-legged, deathly unflattering, acid-washed 90's jeans). I had the idea of cutting and making them into a skirt. So my mom made a two-toned jeans skirt out of two pairs of jeans. Utter Fabulousness.
P.S. I'm going shoe-shopping today. Mother thinks these white zip-up sneakers are too dirty and worndown (you should see the heels...)... today may be my last day with these white ol' goodies... *tear*.
P.P.S. The monkey was my pet for the day. I don't think I can get more random than this.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Tourists take lots of random pictures.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
I see lust in your eyes.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
People need to stop being so fucking optimistic.
I live, you cry.
I lie, rumors hurt.
I abuse, punches bruise.
I scratch, rocks tear.
I tangle, vines choke.
I posion, venom cease.
I engulf, seas drown.
I shoot, guns suffer.
I fight, wars bleed.
You kill, humans die.
Friday, May 1, 2009
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Caroline

Hanneli


































