my name is yael.

i own every bell that tolls me.

mean jeans, born on a saturday night

# 59

doing my best impression of a burrito
tea & oatmeal
rereading the YA novels of my youth (hint: this one has a hot ranchero ghost that says querida all swoonworthy all the time)
all while listening to dumb punk about rippin it up
ps. do not have a pet rat, that is the stuff of dreams


yesterday i had an existential crisis from listening to the ‘mats. 


mel tells it like it is

this one goes out to my dad, who has never been afraid to wear flowers on his hat with his kids.

so far

robyn and röyksopp, monument

robyn robyn robyn
dance queen of my heart
can’t believe i missed my chance to buy tickets to see you

# 63

hi it’s been a while

the mats covering another girl, another planet

if i’m only going to post once every few weeks, it might as well be something really good, right.

# 75

i joke about fat cats being my role models but this lady is the real deal

emerging from the haze of tonsillitis