myheartwentb00m

( Garbage...pure garbage. )        


 

The Del Potro/Federer match was the kind of brilliant thing that only happens when the gods are happy and special cosmological alignments are in effect.  Juan Martin Del Potro is now my favorite player and he's disconcertingly adorable and also, the man needs gigantic posters and endorsement deals like pronto.  For many reasons, but basically because:

1) he's twenty
2) he's bloody gorgeous (I could eat him honestly)
3) he's sweet (heartbreakingly so)
4) speaks the Spanish
5) loves his family
6) plays great tennis
7) has prettier hair than Rafa
8) Much like Rafa, wears ze sleevelessness that makes my world go 'round
9) he's unlikely to grow a big head because of his US Open coup d'etat,

and 10) dude cried. 

So yes, for the preceding reasons, I'm smelling a crush forming.  But seriously, how could anyone not feel as I do after watching Federer and Del Potro rally for as long as they did?  It was thrilling.  And I always love watching players fall to the ground in elated realization, but his humble acceptance speech, where he blinked tears back and made sure he got in a quick 'thank you' to his family in Spanish, means I'm totally in love.      

Oh man.  I am such an idiot.  If the last few days of Freaks and Geeks and weird phrases I've uttered haven't made that clear, then nothing is clear in the world. 

And Javier Bardem is hot, you crazy lady.  Just google Javier Bardem Hot and you'll see there's a chorus of voices singing in agreement.  But apparently he's dating Penelope Cruz, which is such a shocker.  Right?  Hot female dating hot male?  I sort of lose my admiration and love for people when they start dating falsely beautiful people.  I just think it says a lot about them.  But here I am loving him for being so hot.  This makes no sense, I'm tired.     

The light wind, the kind, warm sun ... yeah ... today is a day to enjoy being a creature.

 
He bounces cheerfully up and down;
he rushes in circles in the fallen leaves

Obviously, he has no sense of shame.
He and the bird know everything is answered,
all taken care of,
no need to ask again.
--Yesterday brought to today so lightly!
(A yesterday I find almost impossible to lift.)
-Elizabeth Bishop, "Five Flights Up"

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves."
-Mary Oliver, "Wild Geese"

Hahaha.  You think I'm being naughty and TMI and linking to some dirty thing, but no, just make sure you have like 20 minutes to devote to this link, because you won't want to stop once you visit it.  

It's gorgeous.

Here is the stupid image I created for my band name.  The idea is wonderful, the resulting image is not.

I was surfing the net earlier and found this lovely feminist blog.  I want to share the link to their empowerment subset of Postsecret.  It's called Dreams for Women.

( Continue reading for pictures of the products of my boredom and sometimes, seriously, I think someone should remove the magazines and glue from my reach. )
Tomorrow is Women's Studies day and that thought alone is lovely enough to calm the residual Monday agitation.  Although tomorrow katarina will not be in attendance in UH, which means I don't have someone whose notebook I can peruse, meaning I actually have to take really good notes for once.

I have spent so much money on art supplies, but now I worry.  It isn't a fun hobby anymore.  But I think it can be if I train myself a little. 

I'm putting too much pressure on myself.  So that's it: no more blogging about the art, no more showing the art.  The art will not be mentioned in conversation, in passing or as topic.  Everyone is just going to forget entirely that Raychel once picked up a magazine and/or sketch pen.  And I will not talk about it again.  

 

( Not in a million years, but... ) 

It's kinda short, but it's very sweet. 

( because it's making me so happy. And yes, I know I'm a bitch. )

( and pulling out my soul with his manly hands. )