“Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth.”—Jean-Paul Sartre
There should be an outfit for every occasion. Dresses/suits for weddings, black and black lace for funerals, jeans and a tank for the dog park. But what if you’re invited to a dinner party that also involves swinging a bat at a 5 foot tall pinata? DO YOU BRING EXTRA SHOES? No. Just do it with grace.
This had to be one of the best family gatherings in a long time. A whole roasted pig, a buffet of Chinese food, 2 ice cream cakes from Bi-Rite (TWO!) and larger than life pinatas molded after the 2 birthday celebrities.
Pinatas created by DAX, the resemblances are uncanny. I can’t get over how freakin’ good these are. Both reinforced with steel and filled with 9 chambers of candy. These were not easy to crack open.
Notice the “graceful” swing in the Opening Ceremony dress and 4 inch Giuseppe Zanotti boots.
Hot pink and platforms make for good form.
I should really take off all jewelry before swinging at moving objects.
The happy couple before…..and after.
And the real lesson to be learned here, people, is that if it’s YOUR party, and you’ll be swinging at your own head, do it with style, i.e. a pink ruffled tuxedo shirt. Best. Party. Ever.
Check it out, folks! These giant head-shaped pinatas were made by Dax Tran-Caffee. I totally know that guy!
Why they are featured in a fashion blog of all places is beyond me, but still: Sweet!
Rotting sentiment in sediment
Coffins full of nothing left
They stand at headstones crying
Lamenting, grieving, why-oh-whying
What comfort can that bring to you?
Reduced down to your particles
Your elements return themselves
To all the beasts who need you now
A transferring of energy
From one who’s had his fill
And so you decay happily
As it had been your will
I want you all to know two things about this one:
1.) I asked Stevie for a word because I was stuck for inspiration. He said “sentiment” so, obviously, death and decay were the first things to pop in my head.
2.) The subject stems from a wish for my body (once it has died, of course) to be disposed of without a coffin or any embalming, because I want to just dissolve back into the earth and not take up any space after I’m dead. It’s not like I’ll need it, right? I also believe that once my body has died, my soul, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t gonna stick around, because dead bodies are creepy and I’m sure I’ll have better things to do. Or I don’t have a soul at all, in which case I will simply no longer exist in any form.
Some days go by when I feel I’ve wasted
the chance for real joy, real work to be tasted
Paste paper to paper, find praise for my maker
(for whose sake I savor the pleasant and pain)
Lately I’ve lost my life love
I wallow in stasis, artless and faceless.
They say my fears are baseless and soon I will land
Feet planted and stable, good food on the table
and granted, soon can be days weeks or seasons,
and for just that reason I wait and I worry
I hurry to find something I’d rather not have
Brow furrowed I’m burrowed online in the ads
None speak to me though I’ve learned their bland language
overgeneralized jargon that serve some great purpose.
I’ll tell you we’re all perfect for fill-in-the-blank and
all anyone wants is a full piggy bank.
I have been making a point to write for an hour or so every day since Monday. Hopefully this will continue for a long time.
Anyway, so far, most of the stuff I’ve written that I actually like has been very rap-like. I’m not sure if that’s because my favorite poet is a rapper (or, alternatively, my favorite rapper is a poet), but I don’t know yet what to do with that. If I try to think of myself performing it and recording it as rap, I can’t help but laugh at how much of a dork this fictional version of myself looks —Go ahead, try to picture it. Laugh at me with me. — but I haven’t figured out how to turn them into melodic songs yet, either.
So, if anything comes out from now on that I deem postable but not too personal, you all will be the first to witness it.
This evening, I and the three passengers in my car watched a white Chevy Astro van speed through a red light and smash into a silver mini-van, which flipped over and landed on its roof on the sidewalk.
Thankfully, the only people involved were the two drivers, and neither one of them was seriously injured. By the time I got through to a 911 operator, the police and paramedics were already on the scene.
I keep thinking two things: One is that I am SO glad no one died. Both of those drivers are lucky to be alive. The other is that if I had been on the road 15 seconds earlier, I would have been making a right turn on the same corner where the mini-van landed, and it would have smashed right into my wee car full of my friends.
Thank you, Universe, for making me decide to pause and ask my friend how to get to the restaurant before turning onto Folsom. Thank you, Universe, for all of the seconds you’ve given me.
On an unrelated note, there are two clocks ticking in my apartment, but they are slightly off from each other. Not only that, but one is running a little bit slower than the other. I know that because sometimes the ticks happen really close together, and sometimes it’s more like an upbeat and a downbeat. Like when you’re at a stoplight with your left turn signal on, and the person in front of you has theirs on, too, and you really want your signals to be synchronized, and sometimes for a blink or two they are, but then they go back to being off again.