Monthly Archives: November, 2012

Bed. Blanket. Books. Or, what I’m thankful for this year.

“Woman Reading in Bed” by Gabriel Ferrier

I’m thankful for many things this Thanksgiving, among them:

  • the fact that I am in a financial situation such that I can afford (albeit barely) to have a cheeseburger for dinner any night of the week;
  • friends and family who have opened their homes and hearts to me to celebrate the holiday;
  • the release of the Keira-Knightley-led Anna Karenina and the option to pick my seat for my preferred theatrical showing ahead of time.

But this year, most of my abundant thanks goes elsewhere: I am so thankful to have the opportunity to do abso-f*cking-lutely nothing.

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Why does my heart feel so bad? Dating in LA and far, far beyond.


I’ve never been in love. At least I don’t think.

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Banksy? Is that you? Street art in LA take three.

kid and his teddy bear

I was getting gas near West Hollywood today, and LO AND BEHOLD, a Banksy blast. At least I think. Another pissing animal. And another statement on the complacency of modern-day human beings in first-world countries. Fittingly, I purchased a number of bottled coffees, a Squirt and a tub of butter from the gas station after taking this picture. Banksy = spot-on.

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