A poem by Nizar Qabbani

When you find a man
Who transforms
Every part of you
Into poetry,
Who makes each one of your hairs
Into a poem,
When you find a man,
Capable,
As I am
Of bathing and adorning you
With poetry,
I will beg you
To follow him without hesitation,
It is not important
That you belong to me or him
But that you belong to poetry.

All I Can Do is Keep Breathing Now....

These are carrots, bitch.

These little fuckers are sushi wraps.

Here's some goddamn candy.

Holy shit, look at all that fucking candy.

Bitches and hoes! It's a lollipop.

I apologize for any vulgarity which may have occurred in the last few photos.

(Hot damn... That lollipop isn't real... I drew it.)

Exploring what it might look like to draw an empty candy wrapper... but that's a photo, not a drawing.

Doing an AP exam contest. The winner within period 2 is compared to the winner of period 9, and the overall winner is awarded with ice cream sandwiches.

Sorry, gusto.

I feasted on some tasty carrot-soy sushi, hand-wrapped by yours truly!

Alex (Finally having recovered from Swine...) rants and raves about some bitch or another.

Oh damn, Nathaniel. I'm taking pictures. WHAT NOW?! I'VE ONLY BEEN TAKING THEM ALL YEAR.

Robert joked that I was taking a crotch shot of him. So I did.

This spurred a conversation about crotch shots. Which moved me to take a few more.

Nathaniel clearly has nothing to show.

Kiana and Breawna (they rhyme) pose for a picture in between classes.

"What if we stood here like this all period?"

"People would just come take pictures of you. You're cute."

Too bad he likes boys, Emily.

Kara gets reprimanded for having a camera out. She then promptly leaves class and naps in the auditorium.

I HAS A BUKKIT

NOOOOO HE BE TAKIN MA BUKKIT

Kian and I jam on a pink sparkly guitar on the hall floor.

This was our audience.

This was my percussion.

This is the owner of the pink sparkly guitar. She enjoyed the jam very much.

You can call me Angel Sauce!

Kara's Printing Shop is now open for business! I pounded out 28 printed t-shirts in a little less than an hour, by hand! (including unwrapping and folding all of them, and setting up the press!)

The Karger Cousins will love them. I know it!

Story of the day:

Well, last year Paige completely demolished any decent relationship she had with the lunch ladies at our humble food court by writing a nasty article in the school paper about how terrible the lunch system has become and - even worse - how terrible the food has become. She was nearly banned from purchasing food. She loved the fact that someone cared enough to hate her.

Today I was purchasing a "lunch booster" (I had already had lunch during jazz band - a delicious can of tomato soup, i might add - because I knew I was going to be working on my screen printing during my lunch period.) when I overheard the cashier ladies gossipping about students. This is what I heard:

"That girl - oh did you see her today, with the pleated plaid dress and the ::THIGH HIGH LEATHER BOOTS?:: I know she is trying to make a statement or whatever it is she wants, but I'll tell you this - most of those outfits of hers belong out on Liberty Avenue in 1970!"

Paige was overjoyed.

I was bored whilst my mother colored my hair; I thought I'd try my hand at making a decent phone-picture collection.

I don't even think she noticed I was doing it.

This reminds me of that time my stage mother was tying me into a corset, using her foot in the small of my back for leverage, bellowing, "BEAUTY IS PAIN, GIRLS!"

...true story though. My mom doesn't realize how much she pulls my hair.

Are your follicles connected in some way to your sinuses? I hate that feeling when someone pulls your hair and suddenly you have to sneeze...

Ok haha she noticed this one ;)

This is the only picture I have from today; my camera is still dead. Connor squeezed his feet into my high heels while we were singing "Alma Llano" or whatever it's called. It's something like that. We also noticed that the name of the arranger of the piece was "Angel Sauce" so that became his tranny name.

Oh how I love all the gay people!

Let it go; Everyone's bound to know.

A Roll in the Hay? I can't... Hay Fever.

Mommy made me bring cookies to school today to give to my friends. I hate giving!

You probably can't tell it's candy. I couldn't tell. And I drew it.

Page I was editing today. Paige's article - she is so inept at the English language, she shouldn't be Editor-In-Chief... let alone in highschool.

My article. I just rock so hard. And look at how epic our theater looks at this angle!

Signing up for musical auditions! AAHH

Skipping jazz band with Kian = auditorium, as usual. Best place to take a nap or to shoot invisible zombies with a wooden gun.

Robert requests to sample a small piece of each cookie.

It is like an appetizer in a high-end restaurant. only less organized.

While Robert sampled his cookies, I made my tea balance on its side.

Look at all those FUCKING cookies! (That's a small fraction of them)

Awesomeness in the form of flowering jasmine tea

There's a flower in there!!!

IN THE FUCKING TEA

I came home to find this huge-ass bread on my countertop. What is it doing there? Why is it so big? Who is going to eat that?!

New furniture. Not the pumpkin and buckets; the tall thing with the bench and hooks.

...So... i'm drinking the tea i photographed... and I'm down to the flower part... and now I don't know how to drink it... I can't waste half a cup of tea... do I let myself choke on the leaves?

Rolled around on kitchen floors, tied my tongue in pretty bows with yours

And now we pass; just like glass, I see through you - you see through me like I'm not there

You could make my head swerve. You used to know my every curve.

And so we meet on a street, and I am blind - I cannot find the heart I gave to you

Sometimes what we think we really want we don't

Sometimes what we think we want we really don't

Some times what we think we love we don't, we don't

And I am blind - I cannot find the heart I gave...

We meet on a street

And I am blind - I cannot find the heart I gave to you

THAT was a song by Ingrid Michaelson called Glass. I want to cover it, and I want to cover December Baby. Currently music searching. In the meantime, check out my new video called Blue Lips, by Regina Spektor

http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu5JXOWcUyA

It's my least favorite month. But it's so pretty!!!!

Look at that tree. Perfection, captured in time forever. (I figured if i didn't take a picture today I'll never get one because it'll probably shed its beautiful leaves tomorrow.)

This is an insane amount of smoke billowing from my smoke-ifying incense burner/disguised bong. That's what happens when you burn two sticks/ropes of incense at once! (it actually was a lot more intense than this; it's dying down now.)

I think I'm going to do some recording. I'm sorry for the ::sickening:: lack of photographic evidence of my existence. I should submit another fucking request to the parental unit of my family for AA batteries, and maybe this time it will be sustained.