sexy stories about teenagers in Maine
The next day when the bell rang for lunch, Albert said, “What do you have today?”
"Well," said Frances, laying a paper doily on her desk and setting a tiny vase of violets in the middle of it, "let me see." She arranged her lunch on the doily.
"I have a thermos bottle with cream of tomato soup," she said.
"And a lobster-salad sandwich on thin slices of white bread.
I have celery, carrot sticks, and black olives, and a little cardboard shaker of salt for the celery.
And two plums and a tiny basket of cherries.
And vanilla pudding with chocolate sprinkles and a spoon to eat it with.”
"That’s a good lunch," said Albert. "I think it’s nice that there are all different kinds of lunches and breakfasts and dinners and snacks. I think eating is nice."
(from Bread and Jam for Frances by Russell & Lillian Hoban)
Janet Weiss articulates my theory of life:
What kind of cultural expectations were you trying to challenge with this [Wild Flag] record?
JW: I just feel like it’s very difficult for women to be heroes. When you think about the heroes in our culture, most of them are men. I just want to be allowed the space to explore the idea of being heroic and causing people to fantasize, to dream about music and about their lives and what is possible and what their potential is.
Kat wrote this. It made me miss when I first found Kat, like 12 years ago, and I used to read her zines and go all gaga over her glamorous New York City life. The dreamiest kinda glamour.
God! Me & Laura Jane’s zines look so good underneath The Satanic Bible.
What I’m Reading 11/16/11 (Taken with instagram)
1. Grade 11 (“junior year”) at a “party” (seven or eight girls) at my friend Lindsay’s house. I stonedly put on The Magic City and lay on the floor of her very nice living room and listened to the record from start to finish; felt like my brain was going to explode somewhere in the middle of…
"To protect ourselves, we spun cocoons out of TV, books, video games, early stolen alcohol, and dreams. And then one day we realize we’re grown up and yet still all muffled inside what we’ve built around us. We don’t feel real. "There were often times when he would feel as if he were lifting out of his body and observing himself from above," Dan Chaon writes in just about every one of his short stories. All the writers my age write about blackouts and floating. We try to get out of these cocoons and make our way down to where our bodies are. We try shoplifting and racist/sexist/agest humor (trying to offend our way out); we get naked on stage. We try sleep deprivation and razors on our skin. We date creepy, scary sleazes who we half-hope, half-fear might do the cutting for us. But we’re so used to living inside a dream, even cutting feels dreamy. We can’t get out. We can’t wake up.”
-Lisa Crystal Carver, Drugs Are Nice
"I still get people asking why I’m obsessed with animals. I really hope the images in these songs make sense to people, but I still make things coded: a peacock usually means a boyfriend; a river is depression; a tiger is strength. That doesn’t stem from me trying to hide anything, it just seems more pleasant to sing. California is another one of those images that works for me, meaning a glorified fairyland."
Though we’d never actually met, River was one of my true loves, and I couldn’t believe he was gone. I loved his delicate, almost feminine face, with its high cheekbones and narrow eyes. River seemed tough, but, unlike other actors his age, also sensitive—dreamy and faraway. There weren’t any boys like River in my school—as far as I could tell, there weren’t any boys like River anywhere in New York City. When Sassy magazine published a story called “I Saw River Phoenix Brush His Teeth,” I knew just what they meant—that it was amazing to imagine such an otherworldly creature doing something so pedestrian.