over.it.

even looking makes me want to cry these days.

(sarazucker:sea of shoes)

nothing says class like a heart on your vag.

(haironthebrain)

tenderbuttons:

yesterday: dress as a skirt and headband as a belt and other confusing things

I love the headband belt! and is that a bracelet or a watch?

cocococococococo.

(darklamb:noveltyrubberstampsdeux:avant-gardism:depressingly-awesome)

perfect for the save the date.

(nevver:Baby Blue)

missmlady:

Hiking at the Hollywood sign. It’s beautiful and warm out

great picture! I cannot believe we haven’t done this hike yet…

yumwatch:

walpaper:

Oy, LA.

You know what though, the 10 and the 101 here look fairly clear; the 101-110-5 interchange is a bitch (AS ALWAYS) but I firmly believe that’s cause those are the arteries of the city, and of course they’re always clogged! We live on pork fat and salt water: we’ve got problems with circulation.

Anyway, the secrets to freeway life in LA have always been: to take the 110 whenever you can; take Venice instead of the 10; know which canyons will be clearest on a Friday afternoon (never Beverly Glen, UCLA traffic is the BITCH); work against the diurnal traffic flows when you’re thinking of where to live (go west or north in the morning, east or south in the evening, all bets are off if you’re traveling on the West Side, which has THE WORST STREET/FREEWAY traffic in all of the Southland).

I drive stick, I can parallel park, I know which way to point the wheels when you’re parking on a hill. I wave people ahead of me at intersections. You have to be that kind of person around here unless you have a serious interest in GOING CRAZY.

Learn the grid, don’t drive like an asshole, get a small & efficient car, always use your signal, practice good will towards others. Keep a good distance between yourself and other cars. Don’t touch your phone. Music is ok, eating and drinking probably necessary. Texting or talking on the phone is not. Sorry, yo. Smoking is allowable, only because I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t say so. Taking pictures for Tumblr is sometimes allowable, but only in the case of a shaming somebody who’s a bad driver. :D

I learned how to drive on the 405 freeway when I was a teenager— which means now I’ve been practicing for like THIRTEEN YEARS and I’ve only gotten two minor traffic tickets and been in two minor fender-benders. I know the length and breadth and depth of most major neighborhoods in the LA Basin. I can get to the Inglewood Courthouse and the best Malibu beaches, I can park in Westwood or Hollywood for less than $3 an hour on weeknights, I can cheat the Santa Monica Parking Imperial Soldiers (sometimes) and I know the magic hour for seaside parking in Manhattan Beach. And I can do all of that via the SCENIC ROUTE.

(Although somehow I’ve got the worst luck when it comes to random accidents — I’ve had a ladder fall on my car, a guy back up into me even though we were both STOPPED at a light, random parking-lot collisions, and once I ran into a curb on the way home from Disneyland, but that’s cause I was REALLY tired.)

But otherwise I’m totally cautious!

pointers on driving on LA, also: flash the peace sign. ;)

nedhepburn:

perhaps i shouldn’t blog about this sort of stuff, but i found a really cool apartment at the bottom of the Hollywood sign. and i hope that i get it. because i’d be living, technically, in the Hollywood Hills.

do you know how rad it is to see that sign after you’ve had a shitty day? Los Angeles isn’t so much a city as it is a brilliant idea - that, fuck it, if you don’t make it, then someone else will, so you might as well roll the dice. that all seems to maudlin and tacky, especially to people that live in Los Angeles. yet at the first place i lived at in LA you could see the sign if you climbed up the fire escape. i lived on a guys couch at the Asbury for the first six months i lived there, eating canned tuna and protein powder, and when i could afford beer i’d climb up there and get kind of drunk and think “fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, put all the chips on red, fuck it, might as well go all out while i’m down here”. Bukowski used to live in that building at one point - on the 11th floor - HUGE inspiration. i’d put my headphones on and listen to / sing along to ‘Blue Valentine’ and get yelled at by the assholes on the fourth floor. i never made it past the fourth floor on that fire escape. i’m scared of heights. that, and asshole neighbors who can’t appreciate a well-meaning drunk man on their fire escape singing Tom Waits songs at two in the morning. but i digress.

thats the thing about LA. in other cities, the history is much more apparent. you can see it; be it a building or a monument or what not. one of the best things about Los Angeles is that 95% of the history is all heresay… word of mouth… “didja know?”… “i know a shortcut” sort of thing. while it might not provide the heartwarming grandeur of New York or the comforting affibility of, say, Chicago or Seattle, Los Angeles offers up a lot of hope and - if you’re prepared for it and the literal champagne fountain of bullshit that comes with the uphill struggle - the ability to eventually and ultimately become whatever you want. it’s weirdly euphoric.

its like someone painting a Norman Rockwell painting backwards until you just see a blank page.

anyway, i hope i get this apartment. it’d mean a lot.

nice. :)

reblogged for r.

(bloomacious:designsketchpad)