i decided i heart contrast stitching. i disheart pre-frayed jeans. but
when the cut and the wash are right, what can you do?

i am twenty one and love was here to sing me happy birthday the morning of and then that evening he flew back to the nation's capital on an airplane in the sky.

we danced to phoenix and vhs or beta, smiled at blanche, watched m.i.a. and saul from the bridge and snuck kisses during kings of convenience. oh, sxsw. i'd rather dance.

we fed the duckies on the lake on a hot day and it was just you and me and i love you.

you place pretty songs on cds for me and when i listen to them they become the soundtrack of my life despite the fact i know how silly that sounds, but they enter my head and lyrics come out and nestle into my head and remind me of you. my baby, i never use those words. but that's all i could call someone as sweet as you.

we had a picnic in lil mami's backyard for me and marie's birthday. belaire played deliciously and got excited about our raffle of assorted thrift finds. and benny and i sang kiss at the end of the rainbow and it was awesome. and then we danced for four hours. mike and me and lanneau and co. and it was amazing and wonderful and my feet function strictly on hot beats and sweaty bodies. two days later and my legs are still sore. ghostface and erlend and m.i.a. (my new secret lover) and new beck (oh star husband). two pink daisies and four small roses. a lime shirt that took me all day to sew and my birthday amber colored lucchese cowboy boots that i broke in in two days and am having a full on affair with.

i abandoned knitting for summer dreams and dreams of flying kites.

i'll be in d.c. in a little over a month for a brand new adventure. yay! but, the real adventure would be magically acquiring enough money to go to india to see nicky's co-worker get married. oh india, my dream. but most likely, i'll be walking down the sidewalks, non-ipod headphones in and looking at the houses and the people on the way to somewhere...coffee at tryst or tapas or to the metro stop to pick my boy up unless of course (and most likely) i get my dream internship or the backup job in which we'll meet each other at the end of the day to cook dinner and be smiley with oeuf.