September 28, 2011

My new home.

Kitteh in true life

Priorities

Shark attack Wednesday!

September 22, 2011

Nobody ever got rich on their own

On the accusation of a class warfare:
"You built a factory out there? Good for you. But I want to be clear: you moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for; you hired workers the rest of us paid to educate; you were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for. You didn’t have to worry that marauding bands would come and seize everything at your factory, and hire someone to protect against this, because of the work the rest of us did.
“Now look, you built a factory and it turned into something terrific, or a great idea? God bless. Keep a big hunk of it. But part of the underlying social contract is you take a hunk of that and pay forward for the next kid who comes along.”
-Elizabeth Warren
(at least someone gets it)

September 21, 2011

Truth

-L

Ah, if only...

Credit: pinterest

Totes normal.

Nothin' to see here, folks. Just a monkey and a boar. 

September 12, 2011

Why let's.

found @pinterest

End of summer? Here's the soundtrack... PART 1

Here's the soudtrack of the season... Some of my favorites and frequent visitors on my itunes.



Ingrid Michaelson's You And I



Mundy's version of Galway Girl



Josh Radin's Brand New Day



Girl Talk's Every Day



Amy Winehouse's F-me Pump: Rest is peace lady.



Amy's Version of All my Lovin




Foster the People's Pumped up



Paloma Faith's Upside down

September 6, 2011

Goodbye sweet summer.

Summer is nearing a close. Soon it will be red leaves, cold air, ballet flats and itchy sweaters. Not to mention, a yearly case of bronchitis that springs up around November. Can't. Wait.

But it was a good summer, full of camping, beaching, concerts on the pier, ferry rides to the island, drinking cold bevages while floating down a river, out of state visitors, bicycle rides until my legs are numb, climbing rocks, laughing so hard with friends around a campfire that you cry, dance parties, sewing/failure nights and honey tea vodka. Goodbye dear summer. Can't wait until we meet again.
My dear Kennebunk Beach.