moleskine ((one of my many obsessions)) is celebrating the little prince by saint-exupery with a beautiful notebook collection due out in april.
their promotional/commemorative video is amazinggg and makes me weak in the knees. gush. such pretty, pretty paper products.
such stuff as dreams are made on

moleskine ((one of my many obsessions)) is celebrating the little prince by saint-exupery with a beautiful notebook collection due out in april.

their promotional/commemorative video is amazinggg and makes me weak in the knees. gush. such pretty, pretty paper products.

such stuff as dreams are made on

look at the harlequins! by vladimir nabokov
as intricate as a house of mirrors, nabokov’s last novel is an ironic play on the janus-like relationship between fiction and reality. it is the autobiography of the eminent russian-american author vadim vadimovich n. (b.1899), whose life bears an uncanny resemblance to that of vladimir vladmirovich nabokov, though the two are not to be confused (?). focusing on the central figures of his life—his four wives, his books, and his muse, dementia—the book leads us to suspect that the fiction vadim has created as an author have crossed the line between his life’s work and his life itself, as the worlds of reality and literary invention grow increasingly indistinguishable. 
back cover, first vintage international edition, june 1990

look at the harlequins! by vladimir nabokov

as intricate as a house of mirrors, nabokov’s last novel is an ironic play on the janus-like relationship between fiction and reality. it is the autobiography of the eminent russian-american author vadim vadimovich n. (b.1899), whose life bears an uncanny resemblance to that of vladimir vladmirovich nabokov, though the two are not to be confused (?). focusing on the central figures of his life—his four wives, his books, and his muse, dementia—the book leads us to suspect that the fiction vadim has created as an author have crossed the line between his life’s work and his life itself, as the worlds of reality and literary invention grow increasingly indistinguishable. 

back cover, first vintage international edition, june 1990

moonwalking with einstein by joshua foer ((younger brother to THE jonathan safran foer, author of everything is illuminated and extremely loud and incredibly close))

memory training was considered a form of character building, a way of developing the cardinal virtue of prudence and, by extension, ethics… only through memorizing, the thinking went, could ideas truly be incorporated into one’s psyche and their values absorbed.

foer has competed in the u.s. memory competition and has trained in the intricate techniques for memorizing anything—a list of words, the order of a deck of cards, faces and names, random sets of numbers, the entire iliad.
linabina fun fact: as a kid—and still now—i was obsessed with memorizing stuff and things. i used to pwn at memory contests; yes, those nerdy u.i.l. ((university interscholastic league)) academic competitions. 
there was that one where they gave you a sheet of paper with a sequence of numbers the entire page long and you just sat there memorizing the order for like 15 minutes. insane. i used to do that shit for fun.
copying words and definitions out of the dictionary. 
copying articles from my encyclopedia britannica set. 
copying shakespeare’s sonnets. 
nerd alert.
i think joshua foer and i are kindred spirits. his book just got added to my wishlist and is now sitting in the number one slot. 
such stuff as dreams are made on
obsess mercilessly

moonwalking with einstein by joshua foer ((younger brother to THE jonathan safran foer, author of everything is illuminated and extremely loud and incredibly close))

memory training was considered a form of character building, a way of developing the cardinal virtue of prudence and, by extension, ethics… only through memorizing, the thinking went, could ideas truly be incorporated into one’s psyche and their values absorbed.

foer has competed in the u.s. memory competition and has trained in the intricate techniques for memorizing anything—a list of words, the order of a deck of cards, faces and names, random sets of numbers, the entire iliad.

linabina fun fact: as a kid—and still now—i was obsessed with memorizing stuff and things. i used to pwn at memory contests; yes, those nerdy u.i.l. ((university interscholastic league)) academic competitions.

there was that one where they gave you a sheet of paper with a sequence of numbers the entire page long and you just sat there memorizing the order for like 15 minutes. insane. i used to do that shit for fun.

copying words and definitions out of the dictionary.

copying articles from my encyclopedia britannica set.

copying shakespeare’s sonnets. 

nerd alert.

i think joshua foer and i are kindred spirits. his book just got added to my wishlist and is now sitting in the number one slot. 

such stuff as dreams are made on

obsess mercilessly

and at last i see the lightand it’s like the fog has liftedand at last i see the lightand it’s like the sky is newand it’s warm and real and brightand the world has somehow shifted
all at once, everything is differentnow that i see you 
i see the light from tangled
such stuff as dreams are made on

and at last i see the light
and it’s like the fog has lifted
and at last i see the light
and it’s like the sky is new
and it’s warm and real and bright
and the world has somehow shifted

all at once, everything is different
now that i see you 

i see the light from tangled

such stuff as dreams are made on

i tracked my heart rate ((using a garmin forerunner 305)) during the texas vs baylor game this afternoon. 
note the lull during halftime and the spikes during the stretch. 
definitely need to track while i’m actually at the game. i’m sure it would be insane comparatively. 
obsess mercilessly
hook ‘em hoops. you boys literally make my heart race.

i tracked my heart rate ((using a garmin forerunner 305)) during the texas vs baylor game this afternoon. 

note the lull during halftime and the spikes during the stretch. 

definitely need to track while i’m actually at the game. i’m sure it would be insane comparatively. 

obsess mercilessly

hook ‘em hoops. you boys literally make my heart race.

this is something i need:

it is a cruel, cruel world that we live in when a girl like myself doesn’t have a tv or a dvr or enough hours in the day to watch all this fucking basketball. 

i hope everyone is watching #11 georgetown at #13 syracuse right now. shit is ridiculous.

and i want to watch blake griffin in his debut at madison square garden. 

and at 8pm central time we have (#3) horns hoops at ou, #20 unc at #5 duke, and the bulls at jazz. 

i need to quit my life. basketball is consuming me. i’m completely obsessed and there is no looking back. only baseball can save me and bring a little much needed chillin’ and sanity back to my life and heart. 

right now all i can do is breathe and deal with it. i have to face facts. i’m not gonna be able to watch every single game, i’m just not and i need to stop acting like it’s the end of the world even though it feels that way. it really, really does. this is painful. 

can i have basketball for valentine’s please? pretty, pretty please.

such stuff as dreams are made on

how fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
i struggle to find any truth in your lies
and now my heart stumbles on things i don’t know
this weakness i feel i must finally show

in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
where you invest your love, you invest your life
in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
where you invest your love, you invest your life

awake my soul by mumford & sons


2011 resolution number eleven: attend more as many as humanly possible ut sporting events.
basketball.
oh. my. god. baseball.
OH. MY. FUCKINGGG. GAWWWDDD. FOOTBALL.
repeat.
this is my life. this has been my life. this will always be my life. always.
i can be a bad fan at times. even i fail to make time for my boys. 
my love affair with texas baseball is a particularly tragic story. during the 2005 season, the year we won the national championship, i was at EVERY SINGLE home game save one. ONE. anddd i went to those game alone 99 times out of a 100. anddd the one game i didn’t go to, i got into a car accident driving back to austin from san marcos—i was attending a old, lost friend’s dance show. a fucking car accident anddd i don’t even believe in sports related superstitions. i am shaking my head. i made the lonesome trek to nebraska and watched my boys win it all. i will never forget the look on j brent’s face when he got the final out. so much gloriousness.
the following season, i got busy and lost sight of the stuff i love, the stuff such dreams are made on. i went to maybe two games. maaaybeee. i spent that spring being lost in everyone else—what everyone wanted to do, etc etc. i will never let that happen to me ever again. 
i love sports. I LOVE SPORTS. love love love LOVE. 
it moves me. watching athletes beast, play their best, fly, school, sneak by, and surprise?!?! how does that not move people?!!? just look at humanity—LOOK at what we are capable of. it’s fucking amazing shit and i love every second of it.
texas played some great hoops tonight and i was freakkkinggg the fuck out at frank erwin. it was a done deal, but i loved every second. gary johnson is just sick and i am absolutely in love with balbay and tristan. i don’t give a flying fuck if it’s overzealous to cheer and commend every play when we’re up 30+ points. omg fast breaks and dunks and steals and defensive plays in the fucking air bc you’re flyinggg omg omg omg oh my god. i love basketball. basketball was my first love. every time i watch a game and someone just explodes—i remember why i love basketball. gush. 
this resolution is very important. 
2011 resolution number twelve: if you love something, love it. love it and obsess mercilessly. 
such stuff as dreams are made on

2011 resolution number eleven: attend more as many as humanly possible ut sporting events.

basketball.

oh. my. god. baseball.

OH. MY. FUCKINGGG. GAWWWDDD. FOOTBALL.

repeat.

this is my life. this has been my life. this will always be my life. always.

i can be a bad fan at times. even i fail to make time for my boys.

my love affair with texas baseball is a particularly tragic story. during the 2005 season, the year we won the national championship, i was at EVERY SINGLE home game save one. ONE. anddd i went to those game alone 99 times out of a 100. anddd the one game i didn’t go to, i got into a car accident driving back to austin from san marcos—i was attending a old, lost friend’s dance show. a fucking car accident anddd i don’t even believe in sports related superstitions. i am shaking my head. i made the lonesome trek to nebraska and watched my boys win it all. i will never forget the look on j brent’s face when he got the final out. so much gloriousness.

the following season, i got busy and lost sight of the stuff i love, the stuff such dreams are made on. i went to maybe two games. maaaybeee. i spent that spring being lost in everyone else—what everyone wanted to do, etc etc. i will never let that happen to me ever again. 

i love sports. I LOVE SPORTS. love love love LOVE. 

it moves me. watching athletes beast, play their best, fly, school, sneak by, and surprise?!?! how does that not move people?!!? just look at humanity—LOOK at what we are capable of. it’s fucking amazing shit and i love every second of it.

texas played some great hoops tonight and i was freakkkinggg the fuck out at frank erwin. it was a done deal, but i loved every second. gary johnson is just sick and i am absolutely in love with balbay and tristan. i don’t give a flying fuck if it’s overzealous to cheer and commend every play when we’re up 30+ points. omg fast breaks and dunks and steals and defensive plays in the fucking air bc you’re flyinggg omg omg omg oh my god. i love basketball. basketball was my first love. every time i watch a game and someone just explodes—i remember why i love basketball. gush. 

this resolution is very important. 

2011 resolution number twelve: if you love something, love it. love it and obsess mercilessly. 

such stuff as dreams are made on