One reason I love my friend Ali: When confronted with a version of myself bubbling over with nameless formless terribly exciting personal growth of a totally internal nature, her words: "Quit being cryptic or I'll kick your ass." My bebe!
SUGAR.
I am very very grateful for my friends these days, for loving me, letting me love them, hanging in with each other midst so much, showing me their beauty: S (KAM), HB, HAY, AR, DTC, tout.
SUCCESS.
Diorissmo has returned! After a redesign hiatus, Christian Dior is again making the girly-girl
perfume of my dreams. I got it in the mail today and it smells just like it used to! It even has a chic new bottle I like, although I also liked the old herringbone-patterned label. I really like this perfume, it makes me feel good to wear it. Worth every penny. I bought a passel of other girly stuff too, including Violetta di Parma and Caswell & Massey flower stuff and I am just jazzed. Must be a goofy neologism for the way that people are certain smells, the way certain smells twang your deepest strings, the way you are certain colors (like a winter). In which case I would probably be classified as a Miss Deb 1959, but I dun't care. This stuff fits my olifactory receptors.MORE OBSCURITY.
I've been processing things like a lesbian recently, and very happy as the results have felt real and less like hopeful wheel-spinning. They are not New Things, these thoughts, for like every important revelation in my life, it's something I knew already; I ran miles and miles of well-considered thought to get to DUH. But I don't care. I got here. Being precocious is not a gift. Tedious Fucking Drama of the Gifted Fucking Child! That's not what I mean, but that's what I want to say.
BRAGGING.
A fav cousin was just made Dean of the College at Williams. Go Karen!
ARCHITECTURE AND RELIGION.
I need to write more about the church I went to for Christmas, which, had I attended in my youth, I know would have resulted in a career in wallpaper design, for it is covered in Victorian Gothic stenciling that I just can't stop scanning when I'm there, over and over. It's like the way the Book of Common Prayer crept into G. Herbert's poetry; I know I would have done huge paintings later, not necessarily realizing where the patterns came from.The church, which is actually pre-Chicago fire, is hanging on in the middle of terrifying skyscraper-building on every side; the building across the street is huge and comes RIGHTUP to the curb, hitting on the church like a big dude macckin on a girl at a party. And this image on the left is of another planned building to go up right beside it. Um...can you spot the church in this photo? Not sure I can. What oh what is being worshipped?
2 comments:
You and Amy are the only two folk that still refer to me as "Ali." It's sweet. Sweet like "do you worship Allah?" sweet. Sweet like no due process for me sweet. But it's not sweet to out my violent love. Ass kickin' indeed.
You can't support Caswell & Massey anymore. They discontinued their dreamy cucumber cold cream. Hence, they are Satan. Like America.
All the lesbians I know process through beer and bar fights. In fact, some lesbians in my building recently processed some of their relationship problems in front of the building. Management had to take a hose and wash the area to get rid of the blood and random teeth. So, how's that processing working for ya?
Good point! (beer and bar fights) That's probably indicated at this point, actually.
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