Long weekend scratchings from the bottom of my canvas bag

Because I know you love lists.

1. I need to replace the light bulb in my room. There are several bulbs out in the place right now and I’ve put off replacing them because I’ve discovered that I can get around by the light of my ipod. Also have no bulbs. So it’s going to be a bitch to type out my notes.
2. My last entry, upon further inspection was in fact bitter. Just so that you know that I know.
3. I’m calling bullshit on the fashion industry. 420 pages through an 840 page Vogue (second hand) and BULLSHIT. Seriously, I spot the occasional actually beautiful thing, but on the whole, total pile of feces. In the words of the great Thorstein Veblen “"The superior gratification derived from the use and contemplation of costly and supposedly beautiful products is, commonly, in great measure a gratification of our sense of costliness masquerading under the name of beauty." Can I get a witness? I feel sorry for anyone who trades their very limited lifetimes to work their asses off to trade money for this shit. Sorry, I said it. I love me a gorgeous shoe or chanel no 5 as much as the next girl, but fashion is probably the least important thing in the world right now.
4. Leaves from the big tree in my yard are falling on their half decomposed predecessors as they should. In my yard as in the forest. I don’t know if my environmentalism serves to justify my laziness or vice versa. Which brings me to another point – I call bullshit on lawns. Anything that you need to tend to and draw that many resources for to make flourish is just not meant to grow there. Put something there that is meant to grow there. My lovely landlady Morgan (highly recommend Buddhist landladies) swings by every few months to tend to the front garden, weeding and planting things that are going to look gorgeous in the next season.
5. I painted a lot this weekend and my left arm is swollen and sore, the nerves are burning. I took off a ring I haven’t removed in 13 years because I blistered underneath it and now it’s too swollen to fit back on. I am the class I have grown to despise, so unaccustomed to physical labour that I blister and tear underneath it.
6. Realized for the first time this weekend that I might have mild synesthesia. Examples: fall always smells like pumpkin pie to me, my cat smells like banana bread and a freshly painted green room smelled like pickles. Okay, just looked it up http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synesthesia and apparently I do have a more than mild case of it because I do all those things. My mother, sister and I have had conversations on how we see time. (Hi Andrea) Andrea and I see it like sidewalks, my mother as a wheel. To the person who recently made fun of me for thinking this was a relevant or interesting topic of conversation, I am giving you the finger right now. I wonder if this has something to do with the crazy deja vus I get from walking on cobblestones?