I’ve been compiling a ton of images for my Great Rabbits of Literature sleeve for several months now and working out this concept in my head for much, much longer. If your first thought is Watership Down, allow me to emphasize the Great Rabbits part. (Those rabbits were assholes, and not my kind of assholes.) I’m not even that stuck on the “Rabbits” part; hares are cool too. And “Literature” is perhaps too limiting, as I’ve included ancient representations of mythological and folktale rabbits throughout history. The symbolism of the rabbit is linked to the moon almost universally, even in cultures separated by time and distance, with little chance of contact. Death, sex, luck, danger, drunkenness, love, rationality, brave and steadfast kindness, trickery, and cunning wit… the rabbit has been used by storytellers forever to give their audiences lessons in all of them. I’ll post in detail on each rabbit , little by little, as its portion of my arm is completed.

Below (here, for rss readers) is a jpeg dump of the source material I’ve given the artist. We start next week … and go on once a month for the rest of the year, probably. I’m really excited to be working with Cindy. (More next week, when I’ve got some bloody gross progress photos to share.) Her eyes lit up when I explained what I want to do, and that enthusiasm from the artist with the portfolio I’ve been dreamily clicking through since I started getting serious about this made it all come together for me. The time is now!

Great Rabbits of Literature

Fictional rabbits from ancient through modern times.

35 Photos

First things first, I am on a quest to find the best pizza joint that delivers to my neighborhood. So far I’ve done ok, with only one atrocious misadventure. (Q: How do you royally screw up a cheese pie and lose a customer in less than 2 minutes? A: Deliver it vertically, with confidence!) I’m still not convinced I’ve found the best place, but it could just be because I’m just outside South Philly and have a decent grasp on statistics. (If you live near me and have a joint you like, tell me about it.)

A couple of weeks ago, while digging through one of the many bins that are the sum of my belongings here with me (everything else is still in Vermont) to find something to wear I finally snapped and decided to go buy some actual furniture. I’m a long-term temp and not feeling entirely secure in my employment, however, I can’t stand living like a squatter anymore in my big beautiful freshly painted room with the fancy remote-controlled fireplace. I mean, really! Settle down!

So I went a used furniture shop that is either a cool charity or a front for something shady, and bought a great old all-wood dresser and desk. No assembly required — they are solid. They hooked me up with a delivery service that had them in my room in three hours. Ever since, the first thing I do each morning is check to make sure they’re actually there and weren’t just a beautiful dream. (So far they’ve stuck around.)

Here’s a list of things that’ve happened since I last updated:

• Finally saw Black Swan with my girl gang and it was … perfect.
• My crappy phone died freeing me to enslave myself to a BlackBerry. The phone is dead, long live the phone!
• Made a bunch of new friends all because I went out by myself one night. This is not to be confused with a tale of self-confidence and putting-yourself-out-there winning out. More like, when you want a beer, you should go get a beer because good things happen to those who don’t deny themselves the simple things in life… mostly beer. (A theory that requires more testing.)
• I was the most violently ill I’ve ever been for two and a half days straight, and not entirely right for at least a week and a half — probably due to pizza related food poisoning? Still #1 in love with pizza though.
• Caught the World Cafe Live show/taping with Kurt Vile, and was really into it. I like that I’m walking distance to WC and can sneak over during lunch for cool free shows.
• Found some key elements for my personal style goal for 2011, which J so aptly described as “summertime urban goth.”
• My pretend big brother and his girlfriend had a baby girl in February. I’m a fake auntie!
• Finally saw Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure on a big screen. What’s left to do in life, really?
• Changed the layout here while I was upgrading WordPress.
• Saw The Ex at the First Unitarian with J, and we decided it was the greatest show we’ve ever seen and nothing will ever compare to it …so that’s kind of a drag. But no regrets!

This weekend was one of the best despite being cold and ending in a hangover that went next-level three bites into the most delicious brunch. Between all of the good people I got to see this weekend… a birthday beauty and revelers and out of towners and proud-new-cd-releasers (rightfully so, too!) I spent most of it in a super excited daze wondering how life got to be so fucking fantastic. I just want to squeeze all of my friends until they run away like all of the cats I’ve seen lately tend to. (Elmyra forever.)

Do you like my new pic?:  <3_<3

I also rescued my dearest friend from his prison at the bottom of a stack of plastic storage bins. He’s on the left, in green.:

His name is Freddy. As you can see we go way back. Yes, it rhymes with teddy — but he’s named after my uncle who sent him to me from Germany before I was born; the very first Lizmas present! I know a lot of Freds and all (but one) are the coolest. But especially this one. (I have to say that because he knows all my secrets.)

Before I forget: here’s a mix to get you in the Lizmas spirit. I hope you listen to it while drinking a cup of unaltered coffee and drumming on your desk with pencils, Liz-style.

23 til 32 mix

1. 1978, Liliput, Kleenex/Liliput, 1993
2. Off Morning, Sort Sol, Dagger & Guitar, 1983
3. This Perfect Day, The Saints, Eternally Yours, 1978
4. That’s When I Reach For My Revolver, Mission of Burma, Signals, Calls, and Marches, 1981
5. Undone, Rowland S. Howard, Teenage Snuff Film, 1999
6. Dark Entries, Bauhaus, 1979-1983: Volume One, 1986
7. Disorder, Joy Division, Unknown Pleasures, 1979
8. Speak My Language, The Cure, Join The Dots: B-Sides & Rarities 1978-2001 [Disc 1], 2004
9. The Strange Boutique, The Monochrome Set, The Strange Boutique, 1980
10. Double Standards, Action Pact, Mercury Theatre: On The Air!, 1983
11. Dark Park Creeping, Mo-Dettes, The Story So Far, 1980
12. Gehry, Babyland, The Finger, 2004
13. Night, Zola Jesus, Stridulum II, 2010
14. Stars, Warpaint, Exquisite Corpse EP, 2009

22 more days of Lizmas shopping and my obnoxious birthday zeal! Here’s my unreasonable wishlist:

• electronic drum kit
• 55 gallon aquarium w/1 fancy goldfish named La Contessa.
• a houseplant that doesn’t require much direct sunlight
• a cup that never runs out of fresh delicious iced tea
• that nail polish gadget the receptionist in Total Recall was using

That’s all. Really.

If you want a moral, a November mix.

1. Storm the Reality Asylum – Rip Rig & Panic, i Am Cold, 1982
2. Push – Brilliant, Limelight Lime-7-001, 1982
3. Soul Deep – Darkside, All That Noise, 1990
4. Sorry, Sorry, Sorry – The Scientists, The Scientists, 1981
5. Black Dwarf – Marc Riley With The Creepers, 4 A’s From Maida Vale 12″, 1985
6. Dot Dash – Wire, Live @ CBGB’s Theatre NY, 1978
7. I’m Coming Over – X , Wild Gift, 1981
8. Suntrapper – The Triffids, In The Pines, 1994
9. From the Top of the Mountain – Dog Faced Hermans, Mental Blocks For All Ages, 1991
10. Why Me – The Passions, Michael & Miranda, 1980
11. Girl with a Gun - Bone Orchard, Jack, 1984
12. Endless Fall – Lydia Lunch & Rowland S. Howard, Shotgun Wedding, 1991

I’ve been spending way too much of my free time watching videos of Rowland S. Howard on YouTube and being bummed out that he’s gone. Like, it’s been almost a year. And while it’s perfectly normal to selfishly be upset that your favorite-whatever will no longer be creating your favorite-whatnots, there’s an end date on the acceptability of this bullshit mourning period, and I’ve gone well past it. But he was what made The Birthday Party so great (this coming from someone who adores Nick Cave, but I’m not going to lie.) And most of Lydia Lunch’s best stuff came from their collaboration. And the same can be said for Nikki Sudden. (More fuel to my strong feeling that collaborative efforts tend to be the best.) Anyway, here I go again dwelling on this.

I think, typical skepticism aside, that I might have met the devil on Friday. At least, that’s my working theory as to how someone who isn’t usually interested in guys became tongue-tied over the hotness of a dude working in the boot department of the army navy store. One minute I’m turning around to answer a “can I help you find something?” and the next I’m unable to finish a sentence and backing away like some kind of nut. Oh well. If you happen to be the smokin’ hot metal dude who works in the boot department of my local surplus store, I want to know your secret. What is it about you? Did you make a sketchy deal with something supernatural? Are you carrying medium-rare steaks on your person?

In related news, I need to find a new army navy store, which is really a bummer because that one is one of the few favorite places from my youth still in business.

What else? Oh yeah, I need to buy a bed and I’m being an indecisive whiner about it. Do I want a sofa bed or a real bed? Do I want a full or a queen? Metal or wood frame? I don’t have answers to any of these questions!

Here are two I like:

They’re … nothing alike. And I could easily post 400 photos of other beds and sofa beds I’m interested in. So what am I even going on here? How do I narrow stuff down? I hate this so much and I bet I get sick of it before my landlords get my room repainted and end up buying the most basic IKEA futon just to be done with it.

Well November, I am thankful to have such stupid problems! Tune in next time for an entry fraught with anxiety over what delicious beer to select on a leisurely night out with my friends.

So I’m writing a screenplay for a horror movie with flat stereotypical dudes as props for my strong female characters and exactly zero rapes. Wasted effort or huge waste of effort?

Eh, we’ll see. I’m really not enjoying writing in screenplay format though and might turn it into a manuscript. OR I might just forget about it in a week until I watch the next awful bit of schlocky bullshit that makes me want to throw things. If I even get into what’s set me off this time I will never get to the next order of business.

The next order of business: Shows. Holy crap have I seen a lot of good bands since I moved. Saw A Frames/Golden Error/Hot Guts last Thursday, the xx/Warpaint/Zola Jesus on Monday, Swans the week before, and Pissed Jeans a couple weeks ago. Grinderman in NYC is looking good, and bunch of other interesting stuff is heading through Philly before the end of the year. I need to start carrying earplugs because shows just happen it seems, and I’m never quite prepared.

Taking photos at shows is either too awkward or less interesting than watching the bands or not allowed at all. The venue for the xx show prohibited photography so only select media types and rule-breaking assholes got photos. I’m not sure which group this one was pilfered from because it was forwarded to me. But look: my friend and housemate, J, scored some sweet dead center Row A tickets:

Fancy!

Later after smootchin’ with the pooch my friend came over to give haircuts (another bullet point on my list of things I love about being back in Philly) and cured my inability to see out of my left eye. A miracle! Bangs grow way too fast. I don’t even know how this speed is possible because I never ever ever drink or even look at milk. Gives me the heebies just thinking of it. So where’s this milk-does-a-body-good style shit coming from? Am I somehow getting calcium from beer? That must be my superpower.

I was going to write about going to see Pissed Jeans last week and The Swans the other night, but it’s super late and, again, I’m a responsible adult now. Right!

Oh look, it’s been October for 19 minutes! October! Bonfires! Haunted attractions! Pumpkin ale! At last.

Well! I am home! In Philadelphia! I was hired for a job similar to what I was doing in DC based entirely on my resume without even a phone interview because I have experience in the firm’s industry and the exact position that was open. (Formerly useless knowledge finally paying rent for its spot in my brain. Hooray!) To top it off, a room at a house one of my friends lives in opened up, and the timing just couldn’t have been more perfect. So I live here now. In Philadelphia! I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not just visiting — this is for real. How did this happen?

Our house is awesome. I love the neighborhood and can walk to work. Check out this celebrity sighting from our roof deck:

I’ve met a shit-ton of new people and I’m incredibly bad with names, so this has been a fairly stressful week. So far I haven’t called anyone’s significant other by their ex’s name, so I suppose I’m doing better than usual. Of course I’m not complaining –it’s the best having a core group of friends in the area to introduce me to their friends. If I didn’t have them, I’d have to like, make an effort.

It’s almost midnight and now that I am a responsible adult again I am going to bed and I’m going to stay there all night and not get bored and watch stuff on Netflix. True fact!

Let’s do this:

Hello, Internet! Fancy meeting you here.

I’m in a weird mood, and also back in Vermont, uh, recharging. Yeah. The weirdness isn’t bummed-outness. It’s more like, now my feelings about returning to my hometown have been confirmed (yesssss!), and my expectation of it not being, like, immediate gratification have been validated. I’m kind of relieved that it’s going to take more time and effort because if it hadn’t I’d be huddled under a (thin) blanket or possibly a sheet, with my jaw clenched waiting for everything to fall apart and land on me. The weird mood is about me being correct and trying to decide if it is worse to be correct about this or just always correct in general and, so, rarely pleasantly surprised? Maybe a “bit of luck” would’ve been nice? But again, also terrifying. Well good for me! I’ve got something to work toward, and I’m much happier when I’m focused on something.

So, I was too busy enjoying my time to document it. I’m terrible at taking photos while things are happening, so I pretty much have nothing in that department. I drank a ton of good beer and enjoyed a lot of good hangs. My friends are all charming and adorable and hilarious. (Probably more so than your charming, adorable, hilarious friends but I can’t prove it, and you can’t disprove it.) I fell in love with my friend’s baby, and a St. Bernard another friend is dog-sitting. (GUYS! I got to walk a ST. BERNARD. Not a euphemism.)

I’ve been doing a lot of writing! Well, obviously not here. I’m also drawing again which is good because two years ago I spent way too much money on a fancy set of pens and have felt guilty about it ever since. However! I’ve convinced myself that things would turn out better if I was using my table and not balancing things on my knees in bed, which led to my new tightly held conviction that I can’t accomplish anything decent or worthwhile until I move my table over next to the window. This requires rearranging my room –the room I don’t want to be in, in the state I’m trying to get out of. Waste of time! But if I don’t work through the extreme procrastination I will keep blaming the table’s distance from the window for my inability to ink these sketches, instead of admitting I’m a lazy baby.

Oh babies. I think I’m reaching some middle age milestone where my emotional outbursts are no longer limited to a regularly scheduled portion of the month? I’ve decided that I’m unsubscribing from the Zooborns feed because the sight of baby elephants and orangs and newly hatched turtles is too much for me. I see them and my heart aches. Growing pains, like the Grinch? I don’t know. I do know that the devil is truly just a metaphorical construct because if he were a real thing, the blood of one of you, my nearest and dearest, would be on my hands while I was enjoying a new life with my new baby elephant roommate. Sorry, but I’m not going to lie. Maybe I should get a turtle once I’m settled somewhere.

Oh look, another internet mixtape: (Fifteen tracks including music by Swell Maps, Maximum Joy and Colin Newman.)

I really want this to happen. This place is so much better than it was 15 years ago. Case in point? The subway, while still smelling like urine and chicken soup, actually tells you useful information now about connections at each upcoming stop. The bus stops have clearly marked routes and even in some places have schedules posted. Things make sense here. People, with the exception of tourists, walk on the right side of the sidewalks at reasonable paces. When I talk, no one says “Yer not frum ’round here, huh?”

Also? There is a PIZZA TRUCK that goes around this neighborhood. You don’t even have to order pizza, it just shows up. Are you fucking kidding me? Even if I hated it here, I would stay just for the pizza truck dinner option.

So yeah, life is a litle scary, but also exciting and I’m totally into it.

Check out this dude I met at the shore the other day:

I’m getting my hair cut tomorrow and for the life of me I cannot remember what I was going for when I started growing my bangs out and fell into this state of perpetual ponytail. The evidence points to a beatnik Cousin Itt.

I don’t even know what to ask for tomorrow. I might be over my quest for unattainable Jennifer Love Hewitt hair. I’m trying not to let the heat wave influence me, or I’ll end up with a repeat of the dreaded pixie disaster of first grade. (A mistake I’ve repeated more than once hoping it would somehow suddenly work for me? It’s so perfect on so many ladies, including my own mother!)

Anyway, the reason it is so pressing that I get this mess trimmed up: I’m taking an undeserved vacation from my idle life to hang out with a good friend I haven’t seen in over a decade (with some job hunting on the side). As much as we all love shit-talking Facebook, I gotta say, it’s been good to me.