This movie is a lovely portrait of a pagan family doing as well as a pagan family can. Aura’s mother’s life is as hard as anyone’s, as hard as any woman’s, dealing with the ups and downs of daughters raised with apparently neither father nor morals nor purpose, loving each other as best wounded people can. It is a morality of endurance. They endure the hurt of body and mind and snuggle around each other with permission, on nights of particular pain. The characters are engaging, but not inspiring. The girl is fat. She is not magical. She is not honest.She is not brave. She is not beautiful. She has sex with a guy who already has a girlfriend, in a pipe on the street. She has an animal loyalty to her den mates, and she delivers the love she knows. She doesn’t know any other way, her school didn’t teach her any other way, her mother didn’t teach her any other way, she is a more successful abused woman, that is all. Four stars for an honest pagan snapshot. I only give five star for characters who find a transcendent way out.
Netflix review of Tiny Furniture.


My lifetime gin experience has been limited to say the least. I gave it a try senior year, the kind of “gin” that comes in a $10 plastic handle that to me tasted like grandfathers, Christmas, and death in equal measure. From that point I had it in Long Island Iced Teas, but in nothing else…until this year. I happened to go to a local restaurant with a pretty excellent cocktail selection, where one of the cocktails listed was a Bee’s Knees

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The only proof that love exists.


You know how it really doesnt matter?

And how everyone has gone through that?

And how everyone has gone through that a whole bunch of times?

That’s called the risk you fucking take when you seek to fall in love.



Go With It.

if something shitty happens, it happens,

people get hurt sometimes.

You know what?

It’s totally worth it.

And actually,

the part that you are talking about right now?

The not knowing,

not knowing how everything is going to turn out?

That is the part you are going to love the most,

looking back later. Later,

because, no matter what happens

You Will,

At One Point,

fall out of love with this girl,

and I am not saying that this cannot last forever,

but I am saying that this feeling,

the All Consuming part,

the one that is making you hate yourself?

That is the best part.

It’s the best part because it means that she makes you feel so completely perfect.

It’s a good sign.



When I look back on my relationships,

the part that I remember most fondly is the part where,

before anything really happened,

I got a little glimmer that she might feel the same way.

And the part of my chest,

the part of my chest where I think my heart is,

got warm.

Hot, even.

And my heart swelled,

and I got flustered,

and unable to talk.

And then, 15 minutes later,

started doubting the shit out of myself again.

That is the best part.

It is the chemically undeniable part.

It’s proof that love exists.