I had an insane dream last night wherein Ben Schwartz and I became pals while he was playing a trick on someone performing at UCB. I got roped in because I was sitting by him and noticed when he was trying to get other people to notice him & help him out. We then ran into my childhood friend Kendall who was extremely pregnant and just haning out, waiting to give birth. After the show ended, Ben and I talked about how he knew my late dog, Doc, because she hung out at UCB all the time.
In short, it was crazy. One, Ben Schwartz is an improviser, so it doesn’t make sense that he would try to play a trick on someone else performing. That doesn’t jive well with all of the training and ethos of support that’s fundamental to improv. Two, my dog wasn’t big into improv, so I don’t think she ever hung out at UCB and got into that scene. Also, she was a dog.
from This Rustic Life
(Source: reckless039, via thisrusticlife)
Stiff by Mary Roach. This will be my new comparison: better or worse than living in a monkey’s abdomen. (Taken with Instagram)
“If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.” — Haruki Murakami
(via prettybooks)
truth! via John Irving’s Prayer for Owen Meany (Taken with Instagram)
Don’t worry, I’m just talking about the fictions.
Sometimes I make a silly choice to read a couple books in a day. Sometimes it’s inevitable because I finish one book and then start another on the subway, don’t stop reading while walking home, riding the elevator up (stairs are tough while reading), microwaving dinner (reading = sacrifice in other areas), and then emerge a couple hours later from my reading unsure of the time or my location.
Of course, having read two books today, my brain is already hard at work comparing the two: Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day and John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. It’s possible to find similarities, y’all. Just check out my title.
They’re such different books, but they’ve filled me with some of the same feelings. It’s times like this I wish I read everything in community, so I could talk with someone about both Stevens’ unreliable narration creating a full picture of his life, and the words and thoughts that pass between Hazel and Augustus. And of course, what impact it has in the life of the reader… namely, me.
Too many feelings for Twitter or Pinterest. Thank goodness I use way too many social media platforms.
Feelings, in summation: frustration, sorrow, disappointment, inspiration.
And of course, that beautiful soul-washed-clean feeling that comes after catharsis.
kind of overwhelmed by the new arrivals wall (Taken with Instagram at The Last Bookstore)
sunset #nofilter (Taken with Instagram at the Brown-Thomas’s)
Drugs?
Oh, so many reasons Lucy…
just a little Fourth of July display (Taken with Instagram at Disneyland)