Saturday, July 31, 2010

a petition to the universe

whenever i see a shooting star, i wish for a balloon.
my wish would never ever come true.
i was reminded by someone that sometimes you have to make your own wishes come true. so i went to the dollar store and got my very own purple star-shaped balloon. and i took whitney along and she got a blue one. then we decided to write the universe a letter comprised of our wishes and deep dark secrets and send them up to space.
mine went like this:
dear universe, 
thanks for the balloon. i have some petitions for you. first, i would really appreciate it if a cute boy would give me a sunflower. also i would really like some awesome vintage clothes for my return to school.
please help my social life. plus i would like to make some more new friends. oh, and if blank and blankety blank could stop liking each other, my life would be easier.
if you had a hand in getting me my car, thanks.
help blanketyblankblank not to be creepy.
i could also use a fish taco or two...
thanks for answering my wishes. love, H.
p.s. a scholarship would be nice.

i will refrain from making my 'deep dark secrets' public.
we also put our phone numbers on these balloons just in case our soul mates found them and called us up.

and away they flew! it was a lovely day. i swung on my favorite swing. we ate ice cream and played mad gab. and i beat parker's trash at that game. he sucks.

i think this picture is sufficiently awkward.

but there is a twist in the plot.
my wish came true again! i went to robert's today and they gave us balloons.
so i ask you, why is it that for the months and months of wishing for a balloon, i never got one, but as soon as i made it happen for myself the universe decided to give me another?
is this is a lesson?
probably not.
moral of the story: balloons make people happy. so do swings.

By: Hannah

Friday, July 30, 2010

Hound Dog.

We're watching this dog.
It belongs to a family friend of ours. But the thing is... this family friend moved far away.
And is not coming back for the dog.
So... We have a couple of options here: We keep her, or we find her a nice home.
I don't like this dog very much. And my father is surely not her biggest fan, either.
He keeps thinking about having her "run away to a farm." You know. The sort of farm that send small children away in tears. But.. That wouldn't be civil.

We call her Penny.
The original owner named her Penelope, but, get real. That's WAY too long for a dog name, and it makes summoning her extremely complicated. So. We shortened it for the purpose of making our own lives easier.
Penny has not had a moment of discipline in her life. (Until now. My father is excellent at training dogs, and we're working on it, seeing as she may be around for a while..)
She sheds like nothing I've ever seen before. It's a massive pain in the bottom.
She bites our other dog, Holly, every time she comes around. So we keep Penny outside and put her away anytime Holly needs to use the facilities. Holly is seriously terrified of Penny. She has to scope out the backyard to make sure Penny isn't around before she'll set a foot out there. At any sign of Penny being near, Holly goes running.
Penny howls at anything and everything. She's some sort of hound dog. You know what that means? She has THE most obnoxious bark in the ENTIRE world.
We bring Penny inside at nights and put her in her kennel to sleep.
Penny snores.
I often come down stairs in the middle of nights to watch television or eat something, and I get freaked out every single time because I hear the snore of an old man near the back door.
Penny is not to be disturbed while she is sleeping.
Although, it's very hard to disturb her. She sleeps like a rock.
I have yet to see Penny with her tongue inside of her mouth. I'm serious.
She always seems to be panting. No one knows why. It's not like she does anything but laze away on our back porch all day.
And, not to mention, her breath is something of horror. You can smell it five feet away from her. Don't test it. Just believe me on this one.
The other day, I attempted to take Penny for a walk. And instead, as you can imagine, Penny ended up being the one to take me for a walk.
I will never put that dog on a leash and roam the streets with her again.
We were nearly killed several times by many cars. And passing another dog was an absolute nightmare.

I feel bad for Penny.
We don't really like her. But what's to like?

There's bound to be someone out there who would love this dog. But.. It just isn't my family.
We aren't hound dog people.

Which got me to thinking...
There are probably people who aren't Mallory people.
Which is perfectly fine. It just means that I am a hound dog to someone else.

We are all hound dogs in the eyes of someone.
It's silly that we all have a dislike for someone else, and there is someone else who has a dislike for each of us.
Why is that?

Why is it that no one likes everyone, and everyone dislikes someone?
Don't you dare tell me that everyone likes you, or you like everyone. Because we all know it isn't true.

So, essentially, we're just a big chain of hound dogs.
We're all sort of annoying somewhere.
But that's life.

So why can't we all just find peace within ourselves and like everyone? I know it's not an easy thing to do, but think about it. With a little patience and effort, we could live in harmony. Right?

So I suppose that means that, with a little patience, I will be able to find rhythm in Penny's snoring and delight in her howling.
Because she deserves that chance.

You can dislike someone else, as long as you realize that there is someone else who dislikes you.

We're all just a bunch of hound dogs.
We're all equal.
So we all deserve that chance to be liked.
No matter how horrible our breath may be.

By: Mallory

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

what is art? (the warhol philosophy)

i have made a discovery, what i love belongs to me. andy warhol, SAM.

is it nerdy that the question that keeps me up at night is 'what is art?'
no, it's not 'does he love me?'
or surprisingly not 'what will i wear tomorrow?'
(by the way i fully respect you if these are the questions that keep you up at night.)
what is art?
i like to study different artists' answer as i try to formulate my own answer to the unanswerable question.
i've always been fascinated with the things andy warhol says, maybe even more so than his art. his art is hard for me. i try to understand where he's coming from. but the 60's and on...
it's just hard for me.
the way for me to accept any kind of art is to read into the artist's philosophy. i do it a lot. it's probably what i find most fascinating about the history of art--the mindset of the artist.
anyway, so i was at the seattle art museum last weekend and they had a big warhol exhibit and to be honest, a lot of kinda creepy cool stuff.
there's a wall on which there was a sentence made up of small papers. i forgot what the sentence said. but across from this wall is a photobooth, where you take pictures of yourself, cut off the top one, and attach it to one of the papers on the wall. kind of hard to explain. so here's some photos:

the first two are from SAM's facebook page and the rest are mine, excuse my horrible camera. you can read up about the piece on
so, why is this art?
andy said, "art is what you can get away with."
and, "an artist is somebody who produces things that people don't need to have."
another warhol quote i really like, and that was on the wall of the museum:
i never fall apart because i never fall together.
you can check out more warhol quotes here.
that's all. i'll probably continue this because i think about it so much.

By: you know who.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Friendly Face

Some people come into your life in the most subtle of ways, and leave the most obvious traces of themselves on who you are.

Meet Lauren.
The classiest girl on the block.

I can not fully express the love I have for this girl, for I can not even fully comprehend it.

To tell you the truth, I don't know how she and I became friends.
I can tell you about how old we were when we crossed paths, and some things we had in common at the time we met, but I don't have a clear memory of the first time we spoke, and why it was that we first spoke.
She's just sort of always.... been there...
And for the last four years, I have been so grateful to be able to call this lovely lady my dear friend.

She and I are two peas in an extremely misunderstood pod.
And I do believe that is exactly the way we like it.

We know each other backwards and forwards.
And she moves me to tears every time I watch her dance.

She's a teacher. She teaches me everyday, whether she realizes it or not.

Lessons from Lauren:
There is no such thing as giving up. There is nothing that can stop you from living the life you dream for yourself.
We make the decision for ourselves whether we want to be happy or not. Through the thick and thin, keep a smile on your face and carry on.
It's okay to feel. Let yourself feel. Don't bottle it up, because it will someday surely explode. And where are you supposed to go from there?
Hold your head high. No matter what.
Love with your whole heart and let nothing stop you.

I lean on her through my most difficult times and learn from her through my weakest times.
Without her and the things she teaches me, I would surely be a lost soul.

"Mallory. I know that you are going to do what you need to do. You're a big person and you can make decisions for yourself. Just remember that there are people who love you. So be smart. And be safe."

I owe my life to the girl with dark hair and freckles.

By: Mallory

Saturday, July 24, 2010

"well there's one thing to be said for money. it can make you rich."

i walked into the camping trailer with my cousin katelyn to see an elderly couple we had never met. our grandparents introduced us to them. they were their next-door-neighbors.
they had a grandson in the navy and a son who was a taxidermist even though he was an art major.
"don't go to school for something pointless like acting or art," the old man said. "you just won't get a job."
then, like the usual adults, they asked my cousin and i what we planned to do with our future.
katelyn explained her plans to become a dental hygenist.
"perfect career," the old woman said to her. "those are always in demand. i used to be a high school counselor, you know..."
then of course, she had to ask me what my future plans were.
i knew where this was going before the words passed my lips.
"i want to major in art history," i said.
she must have shook her head while saying no at least seven times.
"yep," i said, "that's what i want to do."
"nooooo," she said, very condescendingly. "you will never get a job."
"sure i will," i said, "i can work in a museum or i could teach."
"nooooo," she said again, "very few schools offer art history."
"mine does."
"well, i was a counselor in granite district, and there was no art history department."
i wanted to say, "well i guess i won't be teaching in granite district!" but instead i shrugged.
her husband jumped in: "you know, you could be an engineer. the world always needs female engineers."
really? really? i thought. i just shrugged again. "i don't want to be an engineer. i'm not good at that stuff."
my grandma rolled her eyes towards me. i smiled. "hannah can do anything she wants," she said.
"noooo," the woman said again. "how about english? minor in art history. major in english. everyone needs an english teacher."
all i could do was shrug and eat my wheat thins silently until i, declared a future failure, would be left in peace.

now, my family and i laugh about this event often. everyone tries to come up with new careers for me, because i sure can't go into art history anymore.. (del taco tortilla flipper, night guard, etc.)
but why is it that at the time, this exchange terrified me? i couldn't open my mouth to oppose to a small old lady's objections, because i was so afraid a sob would escape my lips instead? of course, i thought of about a million snarky retorts i could have said once she left and i regained myself.
my aspirations have always been extremely important to me. my potential drives me. my determination (along with help from others) causes me to accomplish things i would have never thought possible.
i have looked back on the past year, especially, and am amazed at what i was able to become.
i know i'm a little prideful, and it's something i have to work on everyday. i don't think i'm some incredible being who's able to conquer the world in the name of her convictions, but i am proud of what i've done.
so, i don't like to be doubted.
my grandma said, "i just wanted to shove something in that lady's mouth! who is she to judge what you can or cannot accomplish? i wanted to say, 'my granddaughter is capable of anything. when she sets her mind to something, it happens'. i guess her counselor side just came out, and she was trying to protect you from making a mistake."
a mistake.
and now we're back to the ever-present topic of failure.
is it better to risk security for happiness and fail, or to live forever thinking what if?
what if. what if?

i think that security is an illusion.
but happiness isn't.
then why is it that the risk of security is the reasoning behind playing it safe?
what are we afraid of?
but what about regret? the elephant in the room that can eat away at any person that harbors it?
don't get me wrong. hundreds of times in my life, i've stepped back and chosen to take the "easy" way out. but the several times i've mustered up enough courage to leave my comfort zone have rewarded me enough that i remember a risk is worth it.

risk. risk. risk.
you know how when you say a word too much and then it doesn't sound like word anymore? or look like one? how it turns into something foreign, devoid of meaning?
that doesn't apply here. i've said it plenty. and somehow, it's still packed full of meaning.
(do you think all meaningful words are like that? love, hate, courage, strength, faith. they all still sound like words to me.)

–verb (used with object)
to expose to the chance of injury or loss; hazard: to risk one's life.
to venture upon; take or run the chance of: to risk a fall in climbing; to risk a war.

a risk isn't always a negative thing.
i'm completely willing to (expose) monetary security (to the chance of loss) for something i love.
i'm also completely willing (to venture upon) being happy.
i would know that what you think is security is completely dependent upon the actions of others.
blink, and your "security" will be gone.
happiness, though, is more durable. true happiness, i think, doesn't disappear when other things do. it might be harder to maintain, but it's completely up to you. right?
i don't believe in solid security. i've gotten by just fine without it.

this woman worries me. i can't help but wonder how many high school kids' dreams she's crushed as a counselor.
just do me a favor, will ya? don't give up on your dreams.
this country isn't resting on people who play it safe.
it's not propelled by people who settle for less than they love.
it wouldn't even exist if there weren't people who were willing to risk something.

i think i'll send this lady a postcard from art school.

By: Hannah

Oh, Johnny.

Have you ever met this guy?
Well. He holds a special place in my heart.
When asked, "Mallory. If you could have any man you wanted, who would it be?"
My immediate response is the obvious: "Johnny Depp."
There's just something about the way he can distinguish any look.
I've been lured in by every single character he has ever played.
Roux? Yes, please.
Edward Scissorhands? Absolutely.
Mort Rainey? Mmmm.. What a babe. Insane or not.
Captain Jack Sparrow? Not one other man could pull it off like he does.
I've even found myself attracted to Willy Wonka... (I realize that this is a concern. Don't worry.)
Everyone else goes for men like Brad Pitt, or Chase Crawford, or George Clooney, or, our latest lovely, Mr. Efron.
Now, don't get me wrong. These are all exceptionally attractive men.
But nobody beats Johnny.
Although it is a concern that he is the same age as my father. I tend to look past that minor detail.

I do believe I am in love with this man.

image via

By: Mallory

Wednesday, July 21, 2010


i have the strangest dreams. all the time.
apparently it's genetic? my dad and i fall into r.e.m. sleep extremely quickly?
but really. i close my eyes for two seconds, then i open them and find myself thinking about a goat...
which happened to me while i was working on friday.
i don't know how these dreams come to me. over-active imagination?
i had a dream that me, whitney and kyle were on trek. except instead of tents, we packed a massive trampoline. so we layed on it and looked at some stars, and, as usual, we couldn't find the little dipper.
i had a dream the school messed up my schedule. i was stuck with trumpet class (i told the lady i didn't know how to play the trumpet, and she said, learn.) and of all things, bootie class, (which, apparently, is the class where you try on thousands of pairs of jeans. i wanted desperately to transfer out of it. the lady said, no, i don't know how you got in here, because only the girls with the great butts get to try on these jeans, but it's a real honor so you have to stay. plus all the boys will like you. i said, i'm not interested in boys who would like me because i'm a member of bootie class.) oh, also, the bathroom stalls at this school were made out of petticoats.
i had a dream that cat cora (yes, the iron chef, cat cora..) was my p.e. teacher.
i had a dream that consisted only of parker and i eating bacon in his truck.
i had a dream that i saw a boy i know at the supermarket, with a crazy girl, and they were engaged, and then started kissing in front of me. right in the frozens section. whitney was with me. we were grossed. and cold.
then i had a dream where ari explained previous dream.
can anyone tell me what these mean?

By: Hannah

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Oh, Please...

Dear friend,

I'm nearing the end.
Does that frighten you?
I doubt it. Seeing as you only seem to care about yourself as of late, there is not one thing I could do or say to make you worried about anyone but you.
I wish you would come back.
I've never admitted anything like that to you before. But I wish you were here.
I suppose you are still close by. But not close enough. It brings me to almost tears (for we both know tears hardly exist in my body) to think about you. I miss you.
There. I said it. I miss you. Are you happy? Will you come back now?
You've always been my best friend. You've been that person who was there since day one. Literally.
Remember when we were small? And we thought we were giants?
Remember when we would fight, and then not say a word of apology? We somehow always just got over it, without a word, because we knew that we'd have to be around each other for a while. Well. Forever.
I'm sorry for ever letting you down. I ever so obviously have let you down in the worst of ways, and you are too self righteous to allow me to apologize.
Because you always have to be the one everyone feels sorry for.
You won't accept apology because you soak up energy from people feeling sorry for you.
You're selfish and you hurt my feelings to feel better about yourself.
You know you do that.
But I can't point it out without becoming a "drama queen" or a "silly 17 year old girl, who clearly has no experience in life."
So, is that it? You're experienced and I'm not?
Well, that makes perfect sense.
Seeing as I'm the one actually doing something with the talent that we both possess.
You never did anything about it. And you know it.
You know what. You're right. I'm the idiot.
If I have to stop fighting for myself and my feelings to make you feel more "welcome," then so be it.
I'll take all the blame and let you be as rude to me as you want if it means that my best friend will just come back.
You're jealous of me. And you treat me terribly because of it. You belittle me because you know that I'm doing everything you wish you did, and you could have done. But you didn't.
I don't know why. You just didn't.
I'm not trying to be rude to you.
Well, actually I am. Because I'm sick of you being rude to me.
So I suppose I'm sinking to your level right now. Whatever. I don't even care.

Will you just come back?
Please.. Just... Come back...

--Your old best friend

By: Mallory

Sunday, July 11, 2010

i have something very important to tell you.

i fell in love with the work of matisse at first sight, and with the artist himself shortly after.
he is unfortunately not available for marriage.
so as plan b, i have always been convinced that i will meet my true love in front of a matisse painting.

while in san francisco, i had the opportunity to visit the SFMOMA, which houses the painting above, 'woman with a hat', as well as 'la femme des yeux verts' and a oil sketch of 'le bonheur de vivre'.
i stood in front of these paintings for a good 15 minutes before i moved on to everything else.

after a lunch of margherita pizza, however, i just had to go back. (seeing matisses is momentous for me).
so i stood in front of it even longer, listening to the docent's interesting facts.
(gertrude stein bought the painting after first seeing it, because her husband said, "this is the ugliest smear of paint i have ever seen, but we have to buy it. it will be important someday.")
i was completely and utterly content and thought that nothing about this situation could get any better when i turned my head to the left and saw him behind the three giacommettis...
the most beautiful boy i have ever laid eyes on.
it was destiny, was it not?
however, i am much too young to fall into true love, so i let the beautiful san-franciscan-brunette-levi-wearing-hunk pass by.
i'll be back someday. and so will he.

the man himself, as pictured in 1944...

By: Hannah

Saturday, July 3, 2010

"Your love

Should never be offered to the mouth of a


Only to someone

Who has the valor and daring

To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife

Then weave them into a blanket

To protect you."


Thursday, July 1, 2010

hold on, hold tight.

"breathe in, breathe out.
tell me all of your doubts..
everybody bleeds this way, just the same."
breathe in, breathe out, move on and break down.
"if everyone goes away, i will stay."
we push and pull, and i fall down sometimes, i'm not letting go, you hold the other line.
there is a light in your eyes, in your eyes.
hold on, hold tight, "if i'm out of your sight. everything keeps moving on- moving on."
hold on, hold tight, make it through another night.
in every day there comes a song with the dawn.
mat kearney, breathe in breathe out

disclaimer: i don't have the gift of putting feelings into words.
i don't think in words. just feelings. that's why it's hard for me to talk about things. so excuse my for my vague-ness, or confusing-ness, or dramatic-ness.

i should have been smarter. i was already carrying my own burden. vulnerability, i suppose.
i guess i learned a lot. i learned to take it a day at a time, an hour at a time, maybe even a minute at a time...
i learned how i ought to be treated.
i learned faith, and patience.
and so when everything settled down, i thought the worst was over.
well, that was true.
but everything wasn't over.
i had been gone from home for 3 weeks, and to be honest, i hadn't thought about anything heavy for a huge amount of time. and so i was terrified when i was faced with the thought of facing it again.

i was standing at the front of the bag check line in the montreal trudea airport. i hugged them, and tears started to fill my eyes.
"sorry," i said, "i don't know why..."
she smiled. "it's okay," she said, "you've had so much to deal with this past year. this has been like a vacation from your problems."
i let out a short "ha".
she hugged me again. "i have to go. you go ahead. you'll be fine."
and they turned around and walked out of the glass doors to the van waiting outside.
i wiped my tears on the sleeve of my blue sweater and turned around.
the blond swedish boy in front of me turned around.
"uh, excusez-moi," he said, "parlez-vous francais?"
"un peu," i said.
"do you have a pencil?" he asked.
"um, i have a pen..."
he looked at me.
so i dug into my yellow bag and handed him the pen.
he finished filling out his declaration form and handed it back to me with a nod. i smiled.
and that was it, i knew i was back to the Real World.

it didn't hit me until hours later until i was in my own kitchen with a tall glass of water. "you go ahead. you'll be fine."
she wasn't talking about the bag check line, or customs, or the layovers.
she was talking about everything.
i will be fine. only if i remember what i've learned:
take it slowly.
breathe in, breathe out.

"patience is waiting. not passively waiting. that is laziness. but to keep going when the going is hard and slow-- that is patience."

3. quiet, steady perserverance; even-tempered care; diligence: to work with patience.

By: Hannah