Tuesday, August 18, 2009

frank o'hara

Having a Coke with You

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, IrĂșn, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them
I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse
it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I’m telling you about it

Monday, August 17, 2009

H.H. Munro

...or perhaps she was drawn to his unusual amber eyes and he was taken in by her inadvertently sexy, self-conscious girlishness. maybe he took great pleasure in shocking her, in playing to her secret more sophisticated desires. and she was secretly amused and gratified that he took it as a given that she was highly competent and did not have to prove herself to him in any way whatsoever.

edith wharton

her words pelted me like hail:

"he just took what he wanted; sifted and sorted you to suit his taste; burnt out the gold and left a heap of cinders. and you let him. you let yourself be cut in bits...and used or discarded. while all the while every drop of blood in you belonged to him. but he's shylock and you have bled to death of the pound of flesh he has cut out of you..."

she thinks the pound of flesh you took was a little too near the heart...she expressed an unwillingness to be taken "with reservations." she thinks you would have loved her better if you had loved someone else first.

Friday, August 14, 2009

why am i here?

I started this blog, in part, to offer wedding advice from the perspective of a "might as well be professional" bridesmaid. Obviously, I have strayed from that path. So, in an effort to regain some focus, here are some quick tips:

1) If you want to serve Jack & Cokes and margaritas, make sure you feed your guests a full meal. Finger foods and crudites are not going to cut it. By the end of the night you'll have crying, falling down, swearing and fighting.

2) If you have your wedding on a Monday, you will probably save a lot of money but you'll lose some guests.

3) If you want to have a candle lighting "ceremony" remember that it can be windy outside.

important reminder

(937): Remeber, hes got nothing better to offer you than drunk words and hairy balls. (sic)

Thanks textsfromlastnight.com