i am the monster hiding under your bed

Happy Halloween!

Few people are aware that Mrs. Kennedy is a big Bjork fan.


Wednesday Adams and Jackie Kennedy

everybody scream

i love halloween. i love that everyone has permission to be someone else for halloween even if that someone else is a total weirdo. I have had some great halloweens and as i was thinking about them i decided to chronicle my halloweens for the last 6 years.

2005 - token 80's chick


2006 - token leopard/kitty?


2007 - Cher


2008 - as a missionary, clown


2009 - as a missionary, vampire


2010 - babushka or russian grandma


the last one was by far the most fun. this year's costume is sitting in my closet just waiting to be put on later tonight.
picture to follow

he could always make that guitar buzz like it was 1989

too many things require passwords. i mean i guess i see the point of having them, but get tired of them. i feel like sometime soon i'm going to have to use a password to use campus bathrooms, just to make sure that i'm actually a student.
"she doesn't even go here!
do you go here?
no, i just have alot of feelings.
okay, then go home."
sometimes i accidentally type my password into the username bar and it completely freaks me out. i delete as fast as possible and look around to make sure no one saw. partly because i'm embarrassed of my password, and partly because i'm paranoid that someone will log in to my pinterest and go on an unauthorized pinning spree. actually seeing the password is jarring because all i ever see are those little dots instead of the letters that spell my moderately juvenile passwords. seeing them spelled out makes me cringe al little bit, and wish that i were a little more creative.

silver never gets golder

there are few things worse than the feeling of wishing you could take something back that you've said or done. the regret swirls and churns in my stomach. i think of all the million other things i could have possibly done instead. then i sit and wait for the text to be read or the thing to be discovered. words come out of your mouth and try as you might it is impossible to get them to go back in there. emails cruelly refuse to alter their course through cyber space and will not come back no matter how much you beg. i think before you send a text your phone should ask whether or not you really want to send it. maybe more than once actually. maybe just my phone should do that. but one of the perks of being shallow is that i don't end up feeling half as bad as i should for nearly as long as is decent. see, i'm already over it. thanks internet!

maybe i was born

you know those days when your pants are falling off, and you hate your outfit but you can't go home and change, and you feel like crawling into a hole until you can become attractive again? I'm having one of those days. I had a legitimate hair disaster this morning. crazy. frizzy. out there. gross. still falling out. the aforementioned hair disaster made me late for school which made me as mad as my apathy will allow. i have a paper due at 3 pm today that i have only done 20% of the research for. it is 9:44 am and i'm writing this instead of writing my paper. yeah, i'm having one of those days.

a victim of excess words

should i be concerned that my hair is making a mass exodus from my head? if my hairs are deciding that their only option is to abandon ship, i think that means there's something seriously wrong with me. i mean what kind of life can a hair expect to have on it's own? it's a cruel world out there for a hair, lying on the bathroom floor of chance. and i'm not sure they really want to leave because i find most of them clinging to my sweaters, and coats, and shirts, and pants, and in my socks. my hairs want to be near me but they don't want to be attached anymore? wait, this is starting to sound like a cheesy breakup. OMG is my hair breaking up with me? i can't believe this! after all we've been through together? but seriously though.