Dear god no

From the people who brought you my worst nightmare, and a childhood of terror-laden dreams, comes Doll Reader magazine.

A preview of an article from their current issue: "Ginny the Paper Doll 1951—Ginny enjoys a July 4th picnic with all the trimmings."  How much do you want to bet those "trimmings" Ginny's eating are human hearts and deep-fried kitten legs? 

Just knowing that this exists makes me feel like I'm wearing sweat-soaked pajamas.

I've always been fascinated by the similarities between mathematics and art. (Although, anyone that knows me will agree that I am staggeringly inept at anything involving numbers.) It's the way mathematics expresses itself symbolically that intrigues me—numerical prose used in an attempt to describe the indescribable. Math and art often share the same goal: to make the seemingly unquantifiable become more lucid through using a series of symbols and analogies. 

Through mathematics and the various arts, elusive beauty can be discovered and shared via a representative. Sometimes this representative is a symphony, an oil painting, a poem, and sometimes it is a sculpture depicting the three-dimensional "shadow" of a four-dimensional object. I won't try to describe the Octacube any further at this point, but will strongly suggest that you take a look at this article describing its design and significance. I recently came across this page (though the sculpture was unveiled in 2005) while searching for something else, and was immediately struck by the piece's beauty, both as a work of art, and as a tool of mathematical representation.  

Short short story

 

WINDOWS

We talked to each other through our houses: Running from one room to the next, raising and shutting blinds, making eyes blink, making tiny square mouths talk. At night, she made her house blush, turning on both lamps behind the red living room curtains. To tell her goodnight I went to the top floor, turned off every light except for one, and slowly pulled down my two bedroom shades, fluttering them just a little at the bottom. When I said goodbye, she opened the attic window just an inch and poured a cup of water through the crack. 

Put your best (freakishly large) foot forward

This picture makes me think that if I found an old lamp and rubbed it and a genie came out, I would definitely make one of my wishes be that ALL cat paws looked like this:

From Cuteoverload.com:

Waffles the cat, stepped on a bee. (Looks familiar, huh Liz?)

The gloaming

Dusk. Twilight. The gloaming. Whatever you refer to it as, we all know it by the distinct lighting and uncanny effect on our sense of possibility. You can't quite put your finger on it—both figuratively and literally—but, this occurrence has etched the minds and memories of poets and paupers alike.

From Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow:

"... there comes to Slothrop the best feeling dusk in a foreign city can bring: just where sky's light balances the electric lamplight in the street, just before the first star, some promise of events without cause, surprises, a direction at right angles to every direction his life has been able to find up till now."

Terror-ific dream!

Last night I had a dream that:

My friend Liz and I had to contribute Valentine-like sentiments to a green balloon to give someone for Halloween. I saw that Liz was having trouble deciding what to put, so I suggested she write,  "I think you're Boo-tiful."  

I wrote: "Frank(enstein)ly my dear, I don't give a damn." 

Word of the Day

Of or pertaining to dreams.

What the H 4E21?

My apologies for more Forever21-infused content. And in fact, I didn't allude to it in the title, but I'm gonna hit you with a double whammy.

First: We all know that the aforementioned store is great for finding current trend knock-offs at knock-off prices, but I was still a little surprised when I was browsing their website and came across a (nearly) identical replica of a new dress of mine. Check out the redonkulousness: 

The dress on the left is from Forever21, retail price $22. The dress on the right is mine, from a tiny boutique in New Jersey. Retail price $99. Now, of course, I didn't pay $99 for it. It was on the sale rack and after a few passes, I couldn't help but find something charming in the plaid and paisley pattern incest, and purchased it or $9.99. 

Second: I've found myself, more than a few times, in a situation where I didn't really want to audibly respond "Forever21" to a friend's "ohmygodwheredyougethat?" 

So... I made up this handy code:

Simply flash this series of hand signals (at waist-height for optimal discretion) to your friends—"4", "E", "2", "1"—for tacit acknowledgment of your shopping habits.

Southwest Vindication

A little while back, I posted "Trend forecast—Indian summer alert!", wherein I predicted that a new wave of Navajo blanket/Southwest summer home drapes/Northern Exposure wardrobe patterns and designs were all set to blast onto the scene. 

Well, check out this sampler of new Forever21 frocks and accessories. (I mean, is there really a more accurate barometer of ubiquitous trends—for better or worse?):

Boom. I rest my case.

Watch for my next summer forecast—The invisible river: Hipsters and aqua-socks.