a no. 61 + me, and how we are one in the same.

my room is a mess.

my brain, even more so.

i am going on hiatus for a few days.

...with nothing but the solid beat of coldplay,

[viva la vida's back beat seems to be the only thing keeping me on track these days. i'd trust its consistency with my life.]

and a weekend with the big dawgs, broadcasting live from the s.l.c. 

[p.s., can i even say that about general conference?]

it is time much needed to reevaluate, and clean house. 

meaning self. 

clean self.

i used to look down upon rothko. [i know, whaaaaat?! the naive fool i was...]

however, i realize now that we all have days like those personified in no. 61.

we run from blue, slide off the canvas for a while...

but it somehow always catches up to us. 

rothko wheedles his way into our psyche with melancholy blocks, and convinces us that panels of blue are what make mondrian so worth waiting for. 

and i think he's right. i think he has always been right.

wow. 

are we all just soooo annoyed of my analogy? 

art majors. 

suuuuper obnoxious, right?

i hope your thursday was a good time.

fall television on thursday night is the home run at the end of the inning. 

a release, if you will. 

and let's just get this out there right now: 

the blood sucking hotties were insane tonight.
stefan salvatore in the roaring twenties?

he was a dream.

...or a nightmare. depending on which side you're on.

clearly, i've chosen the vamps. and tyler lockwood.

and where's jer? missed him like mad this week.

on another bloody note,

derek shepherd... tool. i am so over him.

[p.s. are we all wondering where little grey has disappeared to? she's probably rendezvousing with jeremy gilbert and the ghosts of girlfriends past.]

now for some shout-outs:

brooke borup: don't talk to me unless you're ready to spill the details about how you're going to be a wife in three months and all. silence... really, brooke? you? ;) just kidding. but seriously...

matt doane: i'm sorry i let you down. ugh. i'm there in spirit. bring me some homemade mac & cheese. i'll pay you. in toaster strudels. and command strips. unfortunately that is the extent of my possessions right now...

[it's the weekend, loves.]