See? It’s Good that I check out graphic novels.

Part 1:
Pissed Beyond Expression
With books in hand, ready to hit the library, someone knocks at my door to inform me that my car’s windows are smashed and that there’s a gaping, wirey hole where my CD player used to be.

To get to the radio they had to smash my window, break the ignition, cut through several plastic parts and do some serious unwiring. I bet they were pissed when that huge xmas box in my car was empty. All of that effort and the only other things besides the Pioneer CD player were a few lousy comic books.

Today a routine traffic check revealed a stolen car containing two men, a dozen or so car stereos, an amp, a pile of cds…

and one bag of library books.

The Walled Lake police called every library I’d borrowed books from until one of them ignored the Michigan Privacy act and released my name without a court order.

“Autumn? We’ve found your Fables comics and we’d like to ask you a few questions…”

I got those comic books back and my radio, too!

*~The Photo Post~*

Here are a few photos of my new pad (look under the lj-cut to view the rest)!

title or description

The dining area. My mom’s dad made the shelf that’s on the wall and we’re temporarily using Brads’ Grandma’s old kitchen table (which she got to see last weekend). The blinds are to a sliding glass door and Brad sanded and re-stained the bookshelf in front of them. Photos on the wall are from Brad’s open house, mainly keg-stand shots.

title or description

I made this arrangement for $12 total, picking off the yellow sunflowers in the store (shhh) and replacing them with red or orange ones. It sits on a heart stool that my grandpa made. He’s forever the greatest.

Continue reading


title or description


title or description

Before Brit dropped the papers on him, a Fed-up Britney Spears was spotted weeping in a NYC restaurant last Thursday… Apparently, the Federputz didn’t show up for a scheduled rendezvous. Not good…

links include:

The video of Kevin receiving what’s to be believed as the text message from Brit

She went skating right afterwards

(What made it interesting – she showed up on the ice with her ex-manager, the guy who had created “Hot Britney”, which can only mean good things.)


No sparkling text is necessary to convey my mood. Most of the apartmenthold chores are done and my only real deadline within the next twenty-four hours is to make sure that I finish volumes two and three of Fables before the library starts to issue fines. As if people process that as any kind of threat.

“It’s gonna be a dime a day – each, …Missy”.

My pet frog died last weekend after two years in my aquarium. And what else could I do about the porous corpse in ways of a sane, correct farewell; I threw it away.

After the sea carriage crashed into still waters it didn’t take long to realize that clinging onto her remaining frog was not really any kind of clinging at all, and so had to swim alongside the giant albino until she reached land. The next few months with her amphibian friend were easy-going, so much in fact that she hadn’t suspected a thing during those final visits to the edgy blue.

Then one day, the last half of the duo that had pulled a once-remarkable craft, allowing her safe passage from one daydream to the next, was lying, lifeless, under the water. Not only had she lost her pet, but also a creative vision – threatened, modified, and then, completely destroyed.

A backdrop of green trees decorated with layers of drying lace (now more gray than white) waved with the branches. Looking out to the horizon, there were so many questions left unanswered. Just where had the wreck brought her? Where had she even come from and to where had she been traveling?

What seemed to be part of the sunset’s reflection on the rippling water drew closer, golden and glowing. Once it was close enough she saw that it was a brilliant goldfish, shades of chocolate and true gold, roughly the size of a baby dolphin…

So now my discolored Black Moor is rooting around the large tank.

Death not far behind, one of the ghoulies from the haunted house actually looked me up and found my journal! It was a special feeling of connection that only a haunted circus, online realm and Autumn May could provide. Although I don’t have my own internet connection yet and have been relying on occasional visits to the clubhouse, it’s good to know that I can still plug in and create a circuit.