This is my personal blog, a journal of my life; my blog of pretty things (et cetera) is here. Twenty-three. Might as well be five.
I just moved to Portland, OR, so if you're a Portland-living person, say hi! New friends for a new city are much appreciated.
constantly reading / grad student / retail management / overzealous editor / chronic paparazzo / lesbian / feminist / atheist
about me & personal & photobooth & gpoy

flickr.com/rileyanne


DON'T GIVE NONE FUCKS.
June 16th
11:52 PM
and yes I said yes I will Yes.
So pleased with my Bloomsday shirt. I’m going to be wearing it more than once a year, I think! (Wish I hadn’t messed up the spacing on the second line, but that’s what happens when I freehand lettering I guess.)
None of the customers at work mentioned my shirt, but then my name tag lanyard was kind of in the way of it all, so…

and yes I said yes I will Yes.

So pleased with my Bloomsday shirt. I’m going to be wearing it more than once a year, I think! (Wish I hadn’t messed up the spacing on the second line, but that’s what happens when I freehand lettering I guess.)

None of the customers at work mentioned my shirt, but then my name tag lanyard was kind of in the way of it all, so…

12:08 AM

HAPPY BLOOMSDAY!

I may or may not be wearing clothing with a Ulysses quote to work… it may or may not be the final eight words of the book… and if any customers recognize it (it’s a damn recognizable line, right?) they’ll be my favorite people ever.

It’s actually not my favorite line in the book, but I thought my favorite passage was rather too long to be on a shirt…

With what meditations did Bloom accompany his demonstration to his companion of various constellations?
Meditations of evolution increasingly vaster: of the moon invisible in incipent lunation, approaching perigee: of the infinite lattiginous scintillating uncondensed milky way, discernible by daylight by an observer placed at the lower end of a cylindrical vertical shaft 5000 ft deep sunk from the surface towards the centre of the earth: of Sirius (alpha in Canis Major) 10 lightyears (57,000,000,000,000 miles) distant and in volume 900 times the dimension of our planet: of Arcturus: of the precession of equinoxes: of Orion with belt and sextuple sun theta and nebula in which 100 of our solar systems could be contained: of moribund and of nascent new stars such as Nova in 1901: of our system plunging towards the constellation of Hercules: of the parallax or parallactic drift of socalled fixed stars, in reality evermoving from immeasurably remote eons to infinitely remote futures in comparison with which the years, threescore and ten, of alloted human life formed a parenthesis of infinitesimal brevity.

I do so love Ithaca and the way it wavers between exact data and poetic distraction.

June 17th
2:46 AM
Via
juliettetang:

“Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.” -James Joyce, Ulysses
Did you know today is Bloomsday, an annual commemoration of James Joyce’s Ulysses?

I had a really terrific Bloomsday. An unexpectedly wonderful day.
Also I’m glad there’s a hat in this photo. Bloom had a hat fetish. Seriously, go read through Ulysses and just note every time there’s a hat mentioned. There’s so. many. hats.

juliettetang:

“Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.” -James Joyce, Ulysses

Did you know today is Bloomsday, an annual commemoration of James Joyce’s Ulysses?

I had a really terrific Bloomsday. An unexpectedly wonderful day.

Also I’m glad there’s a hat in this photo. Bloom had a hat fetish. Seriously, go read through Ulysses and just note every time there’s a hat mentioned. There’s so. many. hats.

June 16th
11:02 AM
Via
"… I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."
—  final lines of Ulysses. Happy Bloomsday!