Tag Archives: future

corgi-laced dreams;

i’ve got a sickness and the only cure is a post-grad corgi.

…or five corgi puppies…laboriously moving their chubby corgi stub arms towards me to shower me with wet corgi kisses, lovingly hugging my gangly frame with their proportionately dinosauric limbs. 

as i said last week i graduate this coming fall, and am moving out of boston promptly after.  my dear roommate’s boyfriend is highly allergic to furry bundles of joy and shrieking, happy puppy whimpers (and their tendency to fart on their siblingscan’t blame ‘em, i mean wut?),  so once i’m done with school and get a jibby-job, i’m planning on going where the wind blows/where the buffalo roam/where the corgi-friendly landlords roam. if any one knows of any apartments virtually anywhere that allow enough space for corgi babies to virtually burst out of each corner, please let me know.

i’m pretty sure this will help the pre-grad slump i’m working through, as well as get me hella tons of  people using me for my midget puppy. i’m also banking on it getting me tumblr famous.

currently fielding applicants for godparents for my future corgi (tentatively named “beanball”). must not attempt to murder me in order to gain full custody of unconditional chubby-midget-dog love.

i just want to wear all the hats, please;


{my preferred means of studying}

i’m gonna whisper this really softly in case i startle any of you.

i figured out i don’t want to apply to grad school. not this year at least. maybe not even in five years. maybe not ever. whatever.

in the spirit of 2013: the year of “nope” i’m saying nope to running wild with ideas i’ve half-convinced myself of going forward with. i’ve always loved learning. i sometimes will exclaim it to whomever is near me. “siiiiiiigh, i love learning,” which is usually met with an eye roll. the fact that i was never on the scripps spelling bee when i was in middle school is still a weak spot for me (i would definitely be one of the little dweebs that writes the word out with her finger and the back of her number pinned to her mom-picked-out-polo.)

 in typical mackenzie fashion, i get a really romanticized image of the future and run maniacally with it clutched in my grubby, little paws. and this is all looked nice when i put this on me.  it was convincing and comfortable and fit me well.  this image was of me wearing tweed and classy-lady blazers, stacks of books in hand, trying to get people into poetry by super pissed off american women in the 20th century (my favorite), glasses sliding down my nose, as my head falls in between the crack of a book.

and that’s cute and whatever, but then i got this itch. it was along the lines of “mackenzie, but you would have to go to grad school somewhere for six years minimum, you effing HATE sitting still, ya turd” and “goodbye, time to read teen chick lit,” as well as a simple “ugh, when would all the sleeping happen?”

because when it boils down to it, i’m afraid i won’t keep learning new things. which is actually stupid, considering on my year off i taught myself pre-calculus, bought a german workbook last summer, and read james und der riesenpfirsich last spring. to say i’ll never learn new things is like telling myself i will never eat a whole cookie pie by myself (#14 best decision of my life, actually.) i rushed into this tweed-filled daydream of mine because the younger mackenzies thought i wouldn’t hold up my side of the bargain, to always learn things.

i’ve always liked to wear many hats. happy mackenzie rushes from babysitting (paper hat, made by charley) her favorite two year-old homegirl(“i get to listen to ‘sweet baby james’ when i go poop on the potty!”- charley, on her love of the music of james taylor) and bakes orange cinnamon rolls (ratty white target beret), and reads poetry when she wants to, for fun (still the beret, but turned to the side all fancy-like), and ya fiction, for fun (let’s be real now), and picks apart things stories, and crochets absurdly thick scarves (ten gallon hat, to change things up), and sings when she does the dishes (a top hat), and makes horrible jokes (a bowler hat). and shedoesn’tliketoplananythinginadvancethankyouverymuch (no hat at all.)

and at this point my hat collection is wide and varied and  and going to grad school in the next year or two would be like wearing the same beret every day for the next year, and gosh darnit i want to wear a sombrero.

{berets and bongos} 86;

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“if i don’t drive around the park,
i’m pretty sure to make my mark.
if i’m in bed each night by ten,
i may get back my looks again,
if i abstain from fun and such,
i’ll probably amount to much,
but i shall stay the way i am,
because i do not give a damn. “

-dorothy parker, observations.

summer ta-da! list;

listen to cape cod kwassa kwassa while at cape cod.

take millie, the bike, down to the cape.

buzz my head. oh whoops. did that.

plan epic road trip.  (any good books i should download on my kindle for the trip? is it sad that this is my main concern?)**

concerts concerts concerts. regina spektor. the kooks. cake. two door cinema club. santigold. jukebox the ghost. laura marling.

take trapeze classes.

more swing and contra dancing.

rock climbing at m.i.t.

visit vermont= i’ve officially been to all of the northeastern states. and caused mayhem in all of them.
(that time i fell off crotched mountain in new hampshire. that time i bought chocolate wine at a quidditch retreat in maine. that time i pretended i dated someone who went to brown in rhode island. that time i forged an unlikely friendship with a boston squirrel.)

lavender lemonade + sangria drinking on the stoop. on the beach. on the curb. in a boat. in a house. in a tree. sam i am, i love sangria and lemonade. yeah.

decaffeinate myself (lolwhoops @ my iced turkish coffee + tweaking out hardcore at wired puppy).

pet all the bostonian puppies. all of them.  i think i’ve said “sorry to interrupt you, but i have to pet this dog really quick” to a friend at least 12 times. i even did that in the middle of a date. so, this is a very possible goal.

*ta-da! lists, like to-do lists but without all the dread! trademark mackenzie filson 2007-2012.

** also, if you’d like to do a guest post while i am in the midst of my travels down the east coast it would be much appreciated! email me at mackenzie{dot}filson{at}gmail{dot}com for info.

that’s all, future manfriend;

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hey there, future manfriend.

i think it’s important to tell you now, that my life is absurd. before you buy into all of my nonsense like you are haphazardly ordering a hand-blender on amazon, thinking you will make blended soups alllllll the time (or something), i should let you know this.

i am a weirdness attractor. it just seeks me out. it finds me wherever i am.

when it’s at the bookstore: i always ask mindlessly wandering folks whether they need help finding things and it ends up with a crotchety grandpa talking about his dojo master who knows how to kill someone without even touching them. and he only drinks hot water with soy milk with honey, as per his dojo master’s recommendation. and going up in the elevator with a customer interaction commonly goes as follows:

lady: you know what i don’t like about this place?

me: oh, what is that?

lady: you can’t take books to the toilet. ugh, it’s so frustrating.

me: …..

i wear clifford heads. and “story time” is something i put on a to-do list at work. bear voices, giraffes that can’t dance, and snack time are common concerns of my day to day life.

whenever i pet a dog on the streets, their loyalty instantly switches to me (i’ve had multiple witnesses to this ridiculous phenomenon).

when it’s at school, it’s not unusual for me to be called “raggedy ann” by passersby. tourists at work assume i go to harvard and ask to take pictures with me (?!?!this has happened at least 3 times?!?!)

one time, i was trying to get a bike off of craigslist and went to meet up with the fellow who was selling it. we met up in a pretty public space, but knowing me i was fully ready to assume that this day might be the day that i get thrown into a sketchy, nondescript white van and taken off to become some drug lord’s wife (i’m a huge bushel of fun, aren’t i?) keeping this in mind, the guy (who was adorable and had a british accent and i secretly wanted him to ride tandem bikes with me into a sunset. i mean, huh?) tells me we have to go to his workplace, as that is where his bike is.

visions of being thrown into a potato sack and thrown into a van rushed through my head as i willingly followed him to my fate. he hands me an i.d. as we walk through the “peter pan: the musical” tents that were taking over downtown boston. i confusedly ask him what he does. “oh, i am john darling”, he says casually as i writhe and try not to foam at the mouth with overwhelming joy. just a normal morning for me, future man friend. almost buying a bike off of john darling is somehow my normal.

being hugged by homeless women as my date approached me one night (true story, he was parking his bike, and a homeless woman began hugging me out of the blue as he walked up to me. it was awesome) is commonplace.

like a moth to a light, the weirdness just launches itself on to me. and i’m not interested in shaking it off. and i hope you aren’t either. to me, weirdness is the cheese sauce of life. and i’m fully prepared (with lactaid pills) to enjoy it with you.


future ladyfriend.

on resolutions completed;

i tend to shock myself. if you look at me on the outside i don’t look too shocking. but i am such an amalgam of crazy ideas, aspirations, theories, and doubts. i may wear safe woolen skirts and like my skin covered unlike many women who call boston home, but i show my wildness in other ways.
and i shocked myself by just how much i did this year. i thought it would be funny to look over my resolutions from last year, thinking there was no way i could have matched up my actions to my plans.

god, i was wrong. and i know i was wrong because god was in control of all of those hackneyed plans i had scribbled wildly on a piece of notebook paper last year. not me.

now, i didn’t cure cancer, but i made friends who will most likely do so. i didn’t get to paris like i hoped, but i saved enough to get myself to san francisco, boston, and a trip to montreal is coming up soon (!!) i didn’t get a new tattoo, but i am happy i didn’t. i swing-danced from 1am-5am the morning of my 20th birthday, made lifelong friends with berkeley swing dancers, got lost a lot, and ate way more cupcakes than i ever thought i would eat (cupcakes without frosting= muffins, right? so i can eat them for breakfast, right?)

2010 involved  A LOT of stumbling( that time i “moved” to chicago? hahahaahha) . 2011 was a lot of learning that stumbling is a lot more fun walking smoothly or gracefully. i’d rather stumble than shuffle along:

yanntiersen 1. see yann tiersen. check. (and ra ra riot twice. and martha wainwright. and st. vincent. and get backstage and buddy-buddy with the postelles.)

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2. go to san francisco for my birthday. oh, yes check.

3. dress up more. check to the point that whenever i go to work, the first thing my coworkers say is “MACKENZIE…YOU’RE WEARING PANTS?!” i almost always wear dresses now. even when i bike.

4. pay off loans. paid off my one loan to my old college…..but got a lot more in loans when i got…

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5. into a school i really, really adore. god, i love it. check.

6. “become the jill-all-of-all-creative-trades” that i’ve always wanted to be. started book #2, a play, and wrote oodles of poems, posts, and am working on editing (finally) book #1.

that being said, when i am biking the streets of cambridge in a skirt, i really have fallen in love with the little lady i’ve become. but knowing me and my rory gilmore tendencies, i would not be myself if not having a lot of little wishes for the next year:

1. re-teach myself german. first item on the agenda? finish reading “james und der riesenpfirsich” (james and the giant peach! i die!) with my pocket dictionary handy. living close to a foreign language bookstore with the most majestic stacks of children’s books does some damage.

2.montreal 21st birthday extravaganza! it’s going to happen. i’m mentally preparing myself for the ridiculousness. march, you cannot get here soon enough.

3. bike more often. i am still pretty reliant on the subways here, but now that i have proper winter biking gear, it’s silly for me to keep riding the subway, when my new bike stallion is just asking to be out on the asphalt.

4. do things by myself more often. fostering that silence is something i find so important in a city so noisy. movies, concerts, beach trips in the summer, spontaneous bus rides, etc. they will happen.

5. reopen my etsy store. this time though, i will try not to go 8 million crafts done half-way (candles! paintings! cards! tote bags! scarves! shoot me!) . i will do one type, all the way.

6. finish novel-child #2.

387870_2430560523271_1229340168_32193782_1477041789_n 7. get a dog. i am dying to have puppies in my arms. i am more than a bit ready to become a crazy dog lady.

8.smile more. ask old men about their stories if they are sitting at a cafe by themselves. more red lips. more stumbling on cobblestones. sing in public. go ice-skating on the frog pond. learn to love each season. say yes more than i say no. give a homeless man a sandwich.  the city is a cold place sometimes, and i want to make sure i have that little flame of happy in me always. it’s a rarity to find sometimes in other city-dwellers, but not impossible.

i want to make sure someone finds that in me. and these little wishes will make sure of that.


what are your wishes for the next year, dears?

let’s get out of here, future manfriend;

dear future manfriend,

i think honesty is the best policy. i really, really do. i believe in a complete laying out of my quirks and idiosyncrasies like a traveling salesman spreading out all of his half-used, rickety products for sale.

keeping that in mind, every few months or so i get this tingling in my fingers, specifically my “travelocity.com URL typing” fingers.

i have an extremely hard time sitting still, you see. i spent two hours on amazon looking at luggage. the image of a packed suitcase is enough to get my heart pumping. once you get the sweet taste of airplane cabin air, your plane neighbor chuckling to himself over “happy feet” playing on the tvs, and notes on altitude flooding your brain it’s hard to shake off the magic spell of traveling.

it’s in my clothes, it’s in my hair, it’s in my skin. i can’t shake that magic out if i tried.
and now i find myself in this place that i love, but that i’d love to run away from for a little while. i’ve been out of practice, you see. i’ve sat in one place for the last six months that just sitting my whimsical self on a commuter rail train to the outskirts of boston is enough to get my gears going.
i’ve tried to describe to myself what not traveling makes me feel like. it makes me feel stagnant. i feel kind of stale at times. and like i just described to a friend in an ever-so-eloquent facebook chat, i feel like “the universe just took a dump on my soul”.

i sometimes worry this plane-ticket temptation of mine might cause you to flee. i sometimes worry sitting still is an art that i’ve never really ever considered mastering. i signed a year lease two months ago on my apartment and i’m still amazed with myself.travelocity’" seems to be subconsciously typed on my computer every other day. i’m not sure at what point i will be okay with sitting still, but  when that day comes i will welcome it like an extended house guest in my apartment whose lease still shocks me.

so i offer you this quirk, if you will. i’m a little bit much to deal with. and just like a product pushed on your like a traveling salesman, you can feel foolish for buying into it whenever you look at it at a distance. but i hope my laundry list of quirks (singing while dishwashing, my foreign-children’s-book buying problem, drinking iced coffee in the winter, silly socks) will make you want to come along with me on these silly, little escapades with me. will make you humor my tendencies to flee.

or better yet, make me sit still for once.

your future nomad-lady friend,


get excited, future gentleman caller;

broston 006wee

broston 007editwee  {near the christian science buildings, broston.}

you know how i said i can’t wait to take you to one of my favorite places?
here’s a teaser.
let’s fling our shoes off one day in the fall and run through the infinity pool when no one is looking, okay?
i mean, that pool is kind of asking for it.

it really is.

with anticipation,

future lady friend.