Why Caroline Calloway?

For the last year, on and off, (but mostly on) I’ve followed Caroline Calloway. Online, let’s clear that up. I have not started stalking someone in the time I’ve been off this blog. But I don’t follow her the way you follow a brand; open to the sales, and interested in the first looks. It isn’t the way you follow a friend; caring and intrigued at their life, happy to find out what they’re up to and where they’re going. No, I follow her the way people follow Phish around the country, with a deep hunger in my soul that for some reason cannot be satiated any other way.

There Are Too Many “It’s Been A Long Time” Song Jokes To Reference

And oh what a time it’s been. Two years is a long time to be away from something. It’s not really a long time in the grand scheme of the world. But when you’re only 27 it’s… well it’s still only about 7.6% of my life. Wow, when you break it down mathematically it’s even smaller than I thought.

Regardless, I’m back to attempting to write. It will most likely be more rambly, and less pointed than the last time I wrote. But I’m doing it. One day at a time, I put words down after one another and then publish them for… well probably someone to read.

But mostly I just do it for my own sanity. Because keeping all the words inside this long hurt, and I didn’t have the energy, and right series of words to explain any of it until recently. So here’s a blurb for the moment, I’ll return with more next week.

Thanks for sticking with me.

2016: My Year Without Pants – Year In Review

Well, it’s been almost completely 366 days since I last wore real pants. In just one week and a few days I’ll be able to wear jeans again. Just in time for Los Angeles to embrace winter!

It’s 1200 Miles From Palm Springs to Texas

This post will encompass two trips I went on, one almost three months ago and the other almost two. I’m so good at doing things in a timely manner that I’m also writing this on election night while pretending that the world isn’t slowly falling into hellfire.*

The title of this post comes from this song by Dean Martin with the same title. I googled songs about Palm Springs and it was the first to show up. It’s quite a number. It’s also perfect because the two places I went after going home were Palm Springs, and then Austin Texas.

Homesick: I Will Not Let My Heartache

The title is a reference to the Relient K “Heartache” song from their new(ish) album, Air For Free.* I listened to it a lot when I went for runs when I went home and took these photos at the cabin my family and I rent every summer. I try not to let my heart ache for this spot, but it’s pretty incredible.

There is some debate as to when we started going to the cabin, and the tradition of trying to figure out when we started going has become just as ingrained in our yearly trips.

2016: My Year Without Pants – Not Pants

So it’s been a hot second since I updated the world on my journey without real pants. Last time I checked in it was because of my longing and desire to once again put on a pair of jeans and have pockets. This time I’m giving you a definition that was briefly touched on in one of my earlier posts.

The definition of Not Real Pants.

The Idea of A Perfect Moment

For years the only thing I wrote was fiction – fan fiction, plays, comic books, whatever it was it came from my imagination and onto the page. Recently I vacillate between fiction and personal essays.

I realized the best things I write are moments; small scenes that sometimes have a beginning-middle-and-end, but mostly just showcase a snippet of someone’s life and mind at a particular moment.

So I wrote a scene* about a heart broken girl who is searching for a perfect moment. Because at the end of the day, we all just want one perfect moment to hold onto.

2016: My Year Without Pants -I Miss Pants Redux

If you recall, or if you click here, you’ll remember that I missed pants many months ago. Well as the weather (in theory) gets cooler, I’m starting to miss my jeans again.

2016: My Year Without Pants – Over Half A Year

Someone send me a cake, bring the balloons, and hire a DJ because I’m throwing myself a no pants party. Not a party in my pants, because there are no pants to party in, but a party with no pants.

Not like that time in college that some of my friends held a “Pants Off Dance Off” party for their joint birthday’s. Not like those awkward pick up lines designed to get drinks thrown in your face if you dare to use them on someone.

I’m talking about a celebration of the fact that I haven’t worn real pants in over 6 months.

Peep Show

Now that Legitimate Self Destruction is finished, I am venturing into the world of digital art. It’s weird, and doesn’t make a lot of sense, and is sort of gruesome in a great way.

Many months ago at this point I took about 100 photos of marshmallow peeps after sticking them in my microwave for about a minute. I filtered through the photos, narrowed it down to about 50 and then started editing. Of those I found 37 that I liked once they were all cleaned up. I went through many versions, variations, and color gradients to get everything just right. Here are the final 16 photos that in total make up weeks of my life.