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sonnet #52 de monsieur shake-shaft
So am I as the rich whose blessèd key
Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since, seldom coming, in that long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placèd are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special-blest
By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
Blessèd are you whose worthiness gives scope,
Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope.
Links:
i. memoirs ii. *pop* icons iii. deviant (T)ART iv. poetrees portfolio v. l'arc en ciel
mes misadventures
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21 mar 2006 @ 17:04 . . .
la madame-quoi-selle est: aol circa 97-esque
:: mon petit univers is vastly improved by the fact that now, when i receive an email in thunderbird, my powerbook (which i am only properly getting acquainted with this past week) plays...
>> this sound wav, not so ironically...to get my attention.
cette entrée déliceuse...
clutch to the bosom!
21 mar 2006 @ 12:32 . . .
:: this is what i'll look like later to-day.


i am full of nothing
save
loathing
for all my dead
-lines.

fuck you march.


p.s. what will i do with my mumsy whilst i paint hot naked co-eds for liquid latex on thursday afternoon? oh, issues.
cette entrée déliceuse...
(on the face) idiomatique ivrit
19 mar 2006 @ 12:12 . . .
la madame-quoi-selle est: my po' feets. i'm not barbie.
hooray for other people's photos of the junior senior formal (last night) already up on the scandalweb, so i can continue laundry-ing and read-ing and writ-ing like whoa. more of this glamour bomb-bombardment forthcoming.

redlily's splendid pictures:
one = (my current fav of me looking tipped with one of my escort-sirs)
two = with my ever shootafah ivrit!

ladies in red = m'suitelady hottveganlovah et moi.


the preparations for my mum's visit this week have begun. anyone who missed my st. mummy back in november that wants to experience the lazarot invasion need only ask, or attend western canon on thursday.
cette entrée déliceuse...
the opera-house stray
17 mar 2006 @ 11:38 . . .
if music be the food of love, play on: telly
oh, AMC.
i'm catching a bit of, 'phone call from a stranger.'
and i think life is better with shirtless men in black and white, doctors who smoke, iron lungs and epic film scores.

love isn't a frail little fancy, my friends.


i was a seamstress for a spell last night, hemming and sewing things for formal. oh yes, i meant to say that i won't be attending the boston zine fair after all this year, as i didn't have enough time to copy and bind (hand-sew rather!) my 2nd zinelet, 'hot date.' but i'll make some next week for snail mail trades and also be mailing/distributing a few of last year's 'niblet' out to folks who never got one...

have i mentioned i have 2 fabulous sirs to escort me to formal? i believe the universe knew it owed me for the 3 proms i attended with groups of (mostly) female friends. h'anyway. off to the admissions center to chat up prospies.
cette entrée déliceuse...
cuppa botox  - kitten?
15 mar 2006 @ 19:00 red, red, wiiine...
i'm a fan after a very long wednesday. ooh yeah. i <3 you cabernet sauvignyum.

i'm going to go chase after my attention span, now.
cette entrée déliceuse...
the opera-house stray
14 mar 2006 @ 01:47 incohat-ed. hat!
if music be the food of love, play on: bzzz
deliriousdelirious
ohmygodi'mnotgoingtosurvivetomorrow
contrarytopopularbeliefupdatinglivejournalisnotgettingthefiveorsohoursofsleepisodesperatelyneed
spacebarsareforquitters
sleepisforweinersandiamaweiner

iwassosleepywalkinghomeearlieriforgotihadmyipodonandithoughti'dsetoffsomealarmwhenigotintomygrad
ohishouldn'tbeallowedonmycomputerlikethis,thisisprobablyworsethanadrunkpost
thisiswhyjojoisbestservedwith12hoursofsleepinhersystem,notfiveandadayfrombusybusyhellandaflightfromdctoboston!


6 hours later or so/morning edit :: i now realize that yesterday was a 20 bloody hour day. hence the uh...yeah.
cette entrée déliceuse...
(on the face) idiomatique ivrit
10 mar 2006 @ 13:21 . . .
i'm going (to) home(port), dc in a few hours for the weekend + monday, for my mother's peace center conference at georgetown university and i believe my father is conducting a concert saturday night.
basically my parents are bloody overachievers. sheesh.

i'll be hermited away studying and working towards my 75 bjillion march deadlines during the weekend-days, so this will be a really bizarre highly scheduled weekend of workaholism and fancyfolk/fine dining combined. poor me.

hey western canon/art history II kids? take ocd notes for me on mononday? if a few of you do it, i can pool them all together to get the transcripty goodness i so desperately desire.


p.s. i seem to be only able to juggle writing profusely OR painting crazily (well) during a one-week span. this seems to be a painting week. poor poetrees.
p.p.s. i left a lecture on Bernini yesterday fanning myself. oh my.
cette entrée déliceuse...
lipstick on the spatula
06 mar 2006 @ 18:15 . . .
if music be the food of love, play on: 40 days and 40 nights on the telly
:: oh...fuck. i'm a zine sweatshop again.

off-campus housing options are swell.

my professors behaved like they were five or high today.
cette entrée déliceuse...
bad porcelain
03 mar 2006 @ 14:53 . . .
i'm going to go be a lady in cambridge (MA) now.
maybe buy some heels, a broach and tits. i'm only barely joking about the last.

i'm bringing a book to reread, a journal in which to write what i've been scared to write about and a scarf that winds.

O!
cette entrée déliceuse...
hand me my field glasses
28 fév 2006 @ 11:30 rule britannia
la madame-quoi-selle est: hard boiled egg.
:: hullo. pip pip.

i got into the UNH study abroad at university of cambridge, england summer program. so that means i'll be there july somethink through august somethink (fi' weeks) this coming sunny season.

so what that really means is you british lj folk better watch out for an invaaasion! there shallst be tea parties and then some. i want to hang out under giant toadstools with miss eowyn, paint spectrums under my peepers once more to slamdance about with a kinky monkey, and have a stripey scary monster ball with an unseelie beastling. (who else is possible to veeseet? leylohfaerie?) i just have to figure out how much free time i will in fact have to run away and how tightly under university-arrest my program is. i'll be taking two smashing english courses. my first two choices were Dickens and 20th century poetry. my 2nd choices were 'Shakespeare's contemporaries' and a class just on Joyce's Ulysses. boop. (i'll soon find out i assume which i shall be taking)

angleterre ~ eng of land ~ l'excitement abounds! i haven't been there since '01, whence i was in a europe-travel-tour-summer mahoo. but that was oxfording, the land of Carroll. i spose i have to go get yelled out now by a certain monsieur k.k. for going to the "wrong" oxbridge school this time 'round...
cette entrée déliceuse...
i drank poison for you