December 2009
58 posts
Lonelytown, USA →
I would say that today is like Freaky Friday, because I wrote a post on Lauren’s blog: Hipstercrite, and she is here haunting my soul…er, My Soul is a Butterfly.
10 Minute Poem from the archives. →
5 Minute poem from the archives. →
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Like a bridge over troubled water...
Face down on the massage table, it feels like the pain is being worked out of my soul. Even when it’s only a twenty minute massage, on my lunch break, in a parlor rich with nail polish fumes and women conversing loudly in Chinese.
I remember massaging the pain from his back almost every night. Focusing on the sore parts, working over the soft of his skin. Actually being able to heal someone...
Be my tech geek...?
In the new year, a comic artist friend is drawing me a new header. I am looking for someone to design a new layout for my blog (not this one, this one) for a nominal fee. If you’re interested, please contact me: hannahmiet@gmail.com.
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Poet in my pocket: Frank O'Hara →
This old town's too small for you now, baby girl. →
When I travel back to my parent’s house, it is no longer like time travel. The Metro North upstate is no longer a Dolorean ride. Instead, it is train tracks across towns that pass my window in a…
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Inbox: if hannamiet joined in partnership with...
aloha from paradise
i was a litigation lawyer in Albuquerque
until I retired to Hawaii
now I am enlightened, and I have Alzheimer’s
in that order
you would love Honolulu
and vice-versa
(does the hyphen hit home with a grammar nazi?)
btw, you are going to be brilliant
and your soul will google
if you search for butterfly effect
aloha which in hawai’ian means...
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Meet me at the Confession Booth. →
The blogger that this cartoon freakishly accurately depicts is Cheryl.
If I did not love the electric personality that bubbles through her words much like caffeine pumps…
Astronauts, Anti-Humbugs, Strangers in my living... →
I don’t think that love is like cracking your knuckles or the first glass of water when you’re thirsty.
I think it’s more like a popsicle that drips and drips and makes your tongue feel…
Welcome to my Tabula Rasa: Part 2 →
When I left, he said that the man in the turban had lied to me. That I simply did not love people as much as they love me, and that he was proof. There was his heart, and there was me,…
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My Soul is a Butterfly. →
I meant to write part two of my last post today, but I needed to paint the background first. I hope you enjoy my painting. It was one of those years when I was always broke. When my feet felt out…
Misdirected Sext.
x: Sweet rack.
x: Oh shit. That wasn't supposed to go to you. So sorry!
me: X, are you saying I don't have a sweet rack?!
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Just Read New York Magazine’s 00’s Issue over lunch. I’m always impressed by writers who can weave thousands of loose strings into a cohesive piece.
Like the idea that the fear about Y2K was actually somewhat warranted (just not for Y2K, but for that of a “dangerously matrixed, overleveraged world, open to massive self-compounding error, vulnerable to manipulation by...
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It's Always Snowing in Philadelphia
I’m sentimental against my will. I save text messages. I have to force myself to delete them because I have an old lady phone that doesn’t hold many of them.
I like my old lady phone. I like busting it out when guys at bars ask for my number and I feel ambivalent enough to say yes. They look shocked. They think you have to be crazy to have an old lady phone or otherwise illegally...
Half-hearted muggers
olddanyeller:
I technically got mugged twice last night. I’m staying in the Mariscal area of Quito, which is very touristy, and very dangerous if you’re not smart. Luckily here you can just tell people, “I don’t have anything,” and then walk away, and you’re usually okay. This is the same neighborhood where my camera was stolen. It’s also the only place nearby with good Internet and a private...
Sometimes my response comments are longer than...
Ellie: Congratulations on being blog of note: This is one time being antipodean comes in useful, as we’re awake while the world is sleeping. I second all your resolutions (with the substitution of Regina Spektor for Fiona Apple and the absence of a dryer) and add: I won’t wear lingerie for you, I’ll wear it for me. Hannah: I feel the urge to respond to this comment before I can...
Welcome to my Tabula Rasa, Part 1 →
Last New Years Eve, I wrote what was possibly the most cynical sentiment ever to grace this blog, explaining why I don’t make New Years resolutions. I still don’t believe that January 1st means…
Not going to lie. I did a happy dance at my desk. →
I am Blogger’s Blog of Note.
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X, →
I dreamt of you again, on a night when sleep only came in whispers; intimations - on and off, as the potted plants in windowsills welcomed the incoming sun. This time it was different, not…
White Russians and Paper Tornadoes →
I’m unphotogenic, I think. And I can’t help but wonder if my resume is also unphotogenic. If I look too big on paper, too faint, too messy or too bold.
I wonder these things aloud, so Lady Hem…
X, →
I could tell you that I’d have to stand on tip toes to reach your lips. That once I remove the heels that connect me to the skyline, clicking my presence into pavement, I’m small enough to fit inside…