okay: raise your hand if you know what "second star to the right and straight on until morning" is from without looking it up. im curious. [cause apparently this is not common knowledge; i thought it was. its messing me up. i feel like one of those things on leno where he asks people who the president is and they dont know. or something.]
also, i was thinking about it today, and i bet i've probably eaten upwards of 2500 peanutbutter&jelly sandwiches in my life. amazing.
Currently Watching: Singin' in the Rain
Posted 6/28/2006 6:36 PM
Friday, November 16, 2007
::: a meditation on ecclesiastes 2 :::
v. 2> i said of laughter, "it is mad." and of pleasure, "what use is it?"
stages of laughter [from some journal of nursing]:
1. smile
2. smirk
3. grin
4. snicker
5. titter
6. giggle
7. chuckle
8. chortle
9. laugh
10. cackle
11. guffaw
12. howl
13. shriek
14. roar
15. convulse
16. die
"laughter is a form of letting go, which keeps you from getting dragged too far. laughter is a control issue. it is not your look that indicates how spiritual you are so much as your laughter. when we laugh at a situation, we are not avoiding it--it may be that we are admitting we cannot control it. our laughter indicates that we take God seriously and everything else, including ourselves, less seriously." --from laughing all the way
but a cheerful heart is good medicine. and i like laughing. tell me a joke?
[oh, and this isnt funny, but did you hear that the pope got the bird flu?]
v.3> i searched in my heart how to gratify my flesh with wine.
ok, the entire wine industry does not make any sense to me whatsosever. at work, we have these people come in and drink lots of alcoholic beverage. now, i dont really have a problem with alcohol consumption, as long as you dont get drunk, and you watch out for other people and all of those things. but if you want to have a glass of wine with dinner, knock yourself out. but what i dont understand is what justifies spending a thousand-plus dollars on it. like at work: say we have a party of 10 people come in.
10 people x $25-30 for the meal= $300.
+ 10 people x $ 7 for dessert= $70
+ 30%ish tip added to that= $115
----------------
$485 [plus tax]
and thats almost $500 right there but if they get any alcohol at all:
10 people x 5 glasses each x $8 dollars a glass = $400
or:
2 bottles of white wine x $36 + 2 bottle of sparkling wine x $80 + 3 bottles of red
wine x $90= $502
+ 10 people x 14 glasses of sundry liquor x $2.50 [average price? i have no idea about this.] = $35
----------------------------
$435 or $537
[plus alcohol tax]
+ $485
-------------------
$ 920 or $ 1022 [plus taxes]
this much is sure: i am not rich enough to drink alcoholic beverages.
you know, if i had an extra $500 laying around, i dont think my first instinct would be to buy alcohol with it. i mean really: i could buy a laptop [or half of one, if i do decide to get a mac]. i could buy 7/8 of a plane ticket to europe. i could go to new york city for a week or two. i could buy a lot of clothes, or shoes or books or movies or cds, and with a little more, i could buy a car. i could feed 164326728 children in africa for a month. there are a lot of things i would rather do with 500 dollars then get tipsy. maybe someone can explain the logic, because its really rather mind-boggeling for me. if that is how you spell boggeling, cause i dont think it is.
and you should see the stuff they drink! one description of this bottle of wine [and this is one of the more expensive bottles--its like $150] reads: blackberry and raspberry flavors, with hints of herbs, leather and earth" leather and earth?! i could blend my own blackberries and raspberries and add some dirt for a lot less than that. talk about gross. what would entice a person to drink that?
and then, theres the drunk thing, which is not actually appealing. on friday night at this wedding i was serving at, the mother of the bride threw up in the doorway of the womens bathroom. it was disgusting. and i didnt even clean it up. [ i dont do well with throw-up, you know.] and the bride was osovery drunk, too. when i get married, i want to actually be able to remember it, you know?
and then i have to worry about driving home, because i know that there were just 150 people at a wedding who are mostly drunk. and i dont want to die yet.
v.4> i made great works; i built houses.
"It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place." [--garden state]
i think most, if not all, people are homesick for a place that doesnt exist--at least on this planet at this time. we are not from this world, to paraphrase a friend [and probably a few other people.] but here we are. so: do we try to make the best of it--settle, if you will? [lots of people have told me to settle in these past few months. pretty sure thats not a good idea?] perhaps what we are looking for is right in front of our noses--we just have to stop or look long enough to see it. or do we keep looking? do we chase so hard after some thing, some place or ideal or time or person that will provide that feeling for us? i dont know; im inclined to think that it may be under our nose, if we stop to look for it, but we may have to move our nose around a little bit. cliche though it may be [and you know how i feel about cliches], i dont want to miss the trees for the forest. and i dont want to grow a wishbone where my backbone should be. [this is hard, sometimes, though.]
v. 7> i bought male and female slaves, and had slaves who were born in my house.
the other monday, we went to abraham lincoln's museum and stuff, and it was pretty much cool. i dont have a terribly strong opinion on lincoln either way [i mean, i really do like lincoln and im sad he died and stuff, although he probably would have anyway, but we came home and my littlest sisters and i watched gone with the wind. we decided that we are both northerners and southerners.] but it was a really great museum. the weirdest part was the wax figures. do you remember the weirdest reading rainbow episode where they showed how they make lifesized wax figurines? it was weird. and one time when i was like 7, my cousin and i watched this infomercial-ish special on TV about hair implantation. and it was weird. and later, whenever i watched the reading rainbow episode, i thought of that hair implantion special, cause making wax figuring hair is a lot like implanting it into people's heads. actually, i think both my cousin and i were scarred from watching that. but anyway, this museum had a lot of wax figurines, including a really creepy one of john wilkes booth, but the people that worked there told my parents to keep such a bunch of pretty girls like all of us away from him because he was known to be a womanizer. but mother did make us take pictures beside the lincoln family figurines, because she is trying to document our life.
anyway, i remembered what a lovely writer abe was, and here is the end of his second inagural, which is almost the best of them all. [but really you should read the rest, too, especially if you never have. it makes me think about things, and its so very gracious]: yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's 250 years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so it must still be said: "the judgements of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
with malice toward none; with charity toward all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the light, let us strive on to finish the work we are in;...to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations."
v.16> seeing in the days to come, it will have been long forgotten
sometimes i am a mess [especially when im packing], i think and in the past few years [especially with moving back and forth from school so much] i have lost some things that i really rather not have lost. i lost a teddy bear that i have had since before i was born. i lost a picture that my mother started when she was my age, and i finished. --to name a noteable few. the art of losing isnt hard to master? oh, it is hard to master. i am a stuff person and i miss my stuff [!] and i dont like to use stationary, because i want to save it for sometime when i might really need it. and i dont want to wear those shoes today, because its raining.
but what im so-slowly learning is that who even cares? i can get more stationary--probably some that is better if i want to--and the other person will be so happy to get a note on a cute little card. and who cares about these shoes? when else am i going to where them? and if they get ruined, i might not have needed them in the first place [or, i could get more, whichever comes first.] and who cares if all my sisters eat all the cookie dough in the batch of cookies im making? its funner that way, and i dont have to fuss at them, and cookies taste better when lots of hands have been in the dough, im convinced. if im not there exactly 5 minutes before something starts, it will be alright. if i dont get to that load of laundry today, the world will not end. and while im sad about my bear and picture: my mother is still around, so theoretically we could make another picture. and since i keep stuff, i might still have that pattern for the picture, and we could make that one again. and my sweet little sisters got me a bear that looks just like the last one to stand in.
no use holding on to stuff too-too tightly. your hands get all cramped. and its a lot less pressury if you dont.
v.17> for all is...a striving after the wind--
down in the valley, valley so low
hang your head over, hear the wind blow
hear the wind blow, love, hear the wind blow
hang your head over, hear the wind blow
[ oh, and he caught it from his cardinals.]
Posted: 6/18/06 5.41 p.m.
missinglike, pt. 2
there are some people that i miss that i was expecting to miss: my friends, my aquaintences, a few select professors and a couple of people i worked with. here are some people i was not expecting to miss, but i do: brandon and blake--the quiznos boys that i always saw every time. they knew what sandwhich i liked and made it so good, and they knew that i got a discount. they were charming, even if i was with other boys [of course, they were charming if i was with girls, thats no big surprise.] i miss john mark, my old boss who was wonderful and whenever i saw him after i quit working there, he would give me hug and call me "beautiful" [although, that might have been because he forgot my name, but i dont think so.] and ask me how things were. he would also beg me to come back and work for him. i miss the library lady, judy. she was so sweet, and when i read my poetry, she told me she liked it and asked for a copy. i miss that cook at waffle house, who always told us all about it, and everything else. i was not expecting this.
i wonder what happens to people. i wonder what will happen to them--if john mark will finally marry that girlfriend he's had forever, and if wendy from work will ever get pregnant and how whitney's twins are doing now [they were sick when i left.] i wonder if brandon and blake will get "real"-er jobs and be so rich when they are older, and if judy is going to get to keep her job after all, despite the city cutting funding. i met a girl at work on tuesday, and i worked with her for 6 hours. yesterday, she moved to atlanta because she got a waitressing job down there. eventually, though, she plans on returning to peoria, having lost 60 pounds and gained a southern accent. the funny thing is, when she comes back, i still will have only known her for 6 hours.
the other day, i went to knitting class. it was lovely. my mother and sisters go every week, and i decided to join them, because who knows why. theres this lady from church who taught herself to knit when she was pregnant with her first child and now shes like 80 or something and a-mazing at this stuff, so she has like 20 girls over at her house during the course of the week and she teaches them how to do it too. it is charming. i decided to make a blanket. ive been wanting to for a while, but i could never find a pattern for one that i liked. but i think ive got one now, and i think its easy enough which means that i might not even quit before i finish. thats always the trouble, you know. i start something, but then its too hard, or i mess up or i just stop doing it. but the goal is to finish this one. golly, since i started knitting, i might as well start accumulating cats and buy a cute house on a street for me and my cats [except for i dont even like cats. if im going to be the crazycool old maid down the streets, i guess ill have to have birds or something instead.]. and in the summer, i plan to sell lemonade, for yarn money. can i just say, too, that not a single store in peoria has the color of green yarn that i want for my blanket? its sad.
oh, and speaking of cats and knitting, it was getting very tiresome telling all the people that ask what im going to do with my life, because at this moment, i have no idea, of course, and everyone asks that [stupid] question, you know, for who knows why. its like they expect you to know or something, and thats just ridiculous. so a friend suggested that i just tell whoever asks that i plan on finding a really rich man to marry, and that may shut them up for a while. and that idea was looking better and better until i was at church on sunday and i was waiting to tell this girl something, but she was already talking to a lady, and right when i got there, the lady had just found out that she was single and was setting her up. i mean she had a list of like 4 men that she was trying to give this poor girl who didnt know what to say of course, because getting set up can be a rather awkward experience. so i decided that maybe telling people that i wanted to get married to a rich guy may not be such a great idea around here, cause usually you could just say no to the guy because hes not rich, and thats one of your qualifications, [except for only if you dont like him. if you do, then who even cares about money. same with movies, or last name, or music or really anything that works.] but most guys around here are rich because they work for caterpillar and that means rich. and also, i didnt even know that people actually set people up like that [!], so there went that idea.
mostly i think that if i dont have at least one decent, real conversation with a real person about once a week, then i go absolutely crazy. im good all week by myself or whatever, but man, after that i am an unhappy girl. unless i get talked to. i enjoy being talked to [by interesting people. the second question to ask after if the boy is rich or not is whether he is interesting.]
i have so much more to say, but i seem to have gotten out of the habit of writing, and i am tired of it. i need to get back into that habit, goodness, i have got to be more disciplined. [and the habit of answering phone calls and emails, and not putting on my makeup in the car on the way to work and eating how i should] the trouble is, i cant start small--its either completely and totally disciplined or not at all, so its not at all. i have trouble doing things only partially though, and i dont know how to fix that problem. but i will have to write again soon, because i have all these little tidbits running around in my head that need a home like: did you know that first cousins can get married in illinois, if they are over the age of 50 [?]. and also, one shouldnt do yoga on the dalai lamas mat because you just shouldnt. okay?
Posted: 6.12.06 1:37 a.m.
i wonder what happens to people. i wonder what will happen to them--if john mark will finally marry that girlfriend he's had forever, and if wendy from work will ever get pregnant and how whitney's twins are doing now [they were sick when i left.] i wonder if brandon and blake will get "real"-er jobs and be so rich when they are older, and if judy is going to get to keep her job after all, despite the city cutting funding. i met a girl at work on tuesday, and i worked with her for 6 hours. yesterday, she moved to atlanta because she got a waitressing job down there. eventually, though, she plans on returning to peoria, having lost 60 pounds and gained a southern accent. the funny thing is, when she comes back, i still will have only known her for 6 hours.
the other day, i went to knitting class. it was lovely. my mother and sisters go every week, and i decided to join them, because who knows why. theres this lady from church who taught herself to knit when she was pregnant with her first child and now shes like 80 or something and a-mazing at this stuff, so she has like 20 girls over at her house during the course of the week and she teaches them how to do it too. it is charming. i decided to make a blanket. ive been wanting to for a while, but i could never find a pattern for one that i liked. but i think ive got one now, and i think its easy enough which means that i might not even quit before i finish. thats always the trouble, you know. i start something, but then its too hard, or i mess up or i just stop doing it. but the goal is to finish this one. golly, since i started knitting, i might as well start accumulating cats and buy a cute house on a street for me and my cats [except for i dont even like cats. if im going to be the crazycool old maid down the streets, i guess ill have to have birds or something instead.]. and in the summer, i plan to sell lemonade, for yarn money. can i just say, too, that not a single store in peoria has the color of green yarn that i want for my blanket? its sad.
oh, and speaking of cats and knitting, it was getting very tiresome telling all the people that ask what im going to do with my life, because at this moment, i have no idea, of course, and everyone asks that [stupid] question, you know, for who knows why. its like they expect you to know or something, and thats just ridiculous. so a friend suggested that i just tell whoever asks that i plan on finding a really rich man to marry, and that may shut them up for a while. and that idea was looking better and better until i was at church on sunday and i was waiting to tell this girl something, but she was already talking to a lady, and right when i got there, the lady had just found out that she was single and was setting her up. i mean she had a list of like 4 men that she was trying to give this poor girl who didnt know what to say of course, because getting set up can be a rather awkward experience. so i decided that maybe telling people that i wanted to get married to a rich guy may not be such a great idea around here, cause usually you could just say no to the guy because hes not rich, and thats one of your qualifications, [except for only if you dont like him. if you do, then who even cares about money. same with movies, or last name, or music or really anything that works.] but most guys around here are rich because they work for caterpillar and that means rich. and also, i didnt even know that people actually set people up like that [!], so there went that idea.
mostly i think that if i dont have at least one decent, real conversation with a real person about once a week, then i go absolutely crazy. im good all week by myself or whatever, but man, after that i am an unhappy girl. unless i get talked to. i enjoy being talked to [by interesting people. the second question to ask after if the boy is rich or not is whether he is interesting.]
i have so much more to say, but i seem to have gotten out of the habit of writing, and i am tired of it. i need to get back into that habit, goodness, i have got to be more disciplined. [and the habit of answering phone calls and emails, and not putting on my makeup in the car on the way to work and eating how i should] the trouble is, i cant start small--its either completely and totally disciplined or not at all, so its not at all. i have trouble doing things only partially though, and i dont know how to fix that problem. but i will have to write again soon, because i have all these little tidbits running around in my head that need a home like: did you know that first cousins can get married in illinois, if they are over the age of 50 [?]. and also, one shouldnt do yoga on the dalai lamas mat because you just shouldnt. okay?
Posted: 6.12.06 1:37 a.m.
something, im sure.
so i have a new life goal: to become mrs. basil e. frankweiler. i bought a filing cabnet [retro, tan, $15 at walmart] and i have been filing and filing everything i even own. its amazing. [and im tired of filing already, but im quite sure ill like it again when im done]. of course when im like 80, think of all the things i will have filed by then, and i will have learned and heard and thought about all kinds of things--all the things in those files--, and thats a pretty weird thing to think of. right now, i am up to my ears in manilla file folders. its quite something.
::: if those files are secrets, and if secret make you different on the inside, then you insides, Mrs. Frankweiler. must be the most mixed-up, the most different insides i've ever seen. or any doctor has ever seen, either.:::
[i seem to have a lot of files, and i dont feel that different yet. hrm. maybe someday.]
and! i bought a chair. a perfecly lovely brown leather[ish? im pretty sure its not real leather]-with-wooden-arms/legs chair for $10 at a yardsale. its terribly sad that i do not have a house in which to put my files and my chair, and seeing as my car is still full of all my stuff, thats out too. well, i mean i have a house, but its not mine. i just live in it. you know.
[but i am rearranging my part of it.]
my pastor on sunday was sub-sub-pointedly talking about having a healthy soul. i wonder what that exactly consists of?
summer is so weird. its busybusy, but doing what? at the end of the day, i can hardly remember. maybe its the heat. i just feel more productive at school, maybe. and im scared because i dont think ive ever really written anything at home before. what if the only place i can write anything i can jackson? that would be really sad. i mean, what is it about a person, exactly, that makes them able to write and carry on conversations and be interesting and all of that? adrienne rich would say its because everybody is a lesbian on the inside and even the men cant avoid it, because they were born from mothers [or somesuch nonsense,] and thats where people get the creative impulse. [but--of course they were born from mothers; they can hardly help it, so that doesnt explain anything.] so i dont think thats quite right. maybe somthing about that part of the brain "where love and hunger meet" maybe, but im not so sure. there has to be something. maybe its just a gift, straight up.
and isnt it crazy that so many things mean. i mean, im not willing to go so far as to say that every single little kicked pebble that my sisters and i kicked when we were walking down the side of the street is vastly important in the grand scheme of things, [not that im saying that God didnt know about it and all of that.], and maybe if we could see, then it might mean for us. wouldnt it be crazy if we could see that deeply? and what if we had planned things out instead of God? i think i would see about making the order of seasons different every year, just for a change of pace. like one year it could be summer, spring, winter, fall. and then the next it would be summer, winter fall, spring.
maybe i shouldnt be in charge.
[i wonder what else i would change, if i was going to change things? i think im pretty content with things as they are?. i dont know.]
i planted flowers tonight, well, i planted flower seeds and can i just say that dirt is so pretty? i mean, im not a huge fan of dirt or anythintg, and i washed my hands right off, but it smells good. and its so dark and rich and full of possibility of life. i like it. and im excited about my flowers too: impatiens, coreopsis and cosmos. what names.
today i was filling out a job application and they asked me what kind of machinery i was able to opperate. what on earth did they mean? microwaves? alarm clocks? tractors? bulldozers? pluging in computers and driving cars? i had no idea. im not sure machinery is quite my thing. o well. but i really want a staple gun. i cant tell you how much. i have my tool box and everything, and its like my favorite thing ever, and i have two sets of jumper cables, and a glue gun, but i dont have a staple gun. and that is a serious problem, because you can do like everything with a staple gun. and come to think of it, i might be out of duct tape too; i know im out of scotch tape. boo.
ive decided i need a puzzle. a really great one. and i will glue it together when i am done.
here are some things that i like: sleeping, books, strawberries, lemon and fresh linen and freshly cut grass smells, canvas, inky pens, and porches. also, ceiling fans.
it always puzzles me to read people's xangas, and other things too, when they say something to the effect of "oh, i have nothing to say," because i always have something to say, even if i dont. but usually, i do, and then i talk my head off for a while and i still have more to say.
so all of this to say--something, im sure.
Posted 5/29/2006 10:56 PM - email it
::: if those files are secrets, and if secret make you different on the inside, then you insides, Mrs. Frankweiler. must be the most mixed-up, the most different insides i've ever seen. or any doctor has ever seen, either.:::
[i seem to have a lot of files, and i dont feel that different yet. hrm. maybe someday.]
and! i bought a chair. a perfecly lovely brown leather[ish? im pretty sure its not real leather]-with-wooden-arms/legs chair for $10 at a yardsale. its terribly sad that i do not have a house in which to put my files and my chair, and seeing as my car is still full of all my stuff, thats out too. well, i mean i have a house, but its not mine. i just live in it. you know.
[but i am rearranging my part of it.]
my pastor on sunday was sub-sub-pointedly talking about having a healthy soul. i wonder what that exactly consists of?
summer is so weird. its busybusy, but doing what? at the end of the day, i can hardly remember. maybe its the heat. i just feel more productive at school, maybe. and im scared because i dont think ive ever really written anything at home before. what if the only place i can write anything i can jackson? that would be really sad. i mean, what is it about a person, exactly, that makes them able to write and carry on conversations and be interesting and all of that? adrienne rich would say its because everybody is a lesbian on the inside and even the men cant avoid it, because they were born from mothers [or somesuch nonsense,] and thats where people get the creative impulse. [but--of course they were born from mothers; they can hardly help it, so that doesnt explain anything.] so i dont think thats quite right. maybe somthing about that part of the brain "where love and hunger meet" maybe, but im not so sure. there has to be something. maybe its just a gift, straight up.
and isnt it crazy that so many things mean. i mean, im not willing to go so far as to say that every single little kicked pebble that my sisters and i kicked when we were walking down the side of the street is vastly important in the grand scheme of things, [not that im saying that God didnt know about it and all of that.], and maybe if we could see, then it might mean for us. wouldnt it be crazy if we could see that deeply? and what if we had planned things out instead of God? i think i would see about making the order of seasons different every year, just for a change of pace. like one year it could be summer, spring, winter, fall. and then the next it would be summer, winter fall, spring.
maybe i shouldnt be in charge.
[i wonder what else i would change, if i was going to change things? i think im pretty content with things as they are?. i dont know.]
i planted flowers tonight, well, i planted flower seeds and can i just say that dirt is so pretty? i mean, im not a huge fan of dirt or anythintg, and i washed my hands right off, but it smells good. and its so dark and rich and full of possibility of life. i like it. and im excited about my flowers too: impatiens, coreopsis and cosmos. what names.
today i was filling out a job application and they asked me what kind of machinery i was able to opperate. what on earth did they mean? microwaves? alarm clocks? tractors? bulldozers? pluging in computers and driving cars? i had no idea. im not sure machinery is quite my thing. o well. but i really want a staple gun. i cant tell you how much. i have my tool box and everything, and its like my favorite thing ever, and i have two sets of jumper cables, and a glue gun, but i dont have a staple gun. and that is a serious problem, because you can do like everything with a staple gun. and come to think of it, i might be out of duct tape too; i know im out of scotch tape. boo.
ive decided i need a puzzle. a really great one. and i will glue it together when i am done.
here are some things that i like: sleeping, books, strawberries, lemon and fresh linen and freshly cut grass smells, canvas, inky pens, and porches. also, ceiling fans.
it always puzzles me to read people's xangas, and other things too, when they say something to the effect of "oh, i have nothing to say," because i always have something to say, even if i dont. but usually, i do, and then i talk my head off for a while and i still have more to say.
so all of this to say--something, im sure.
Posted 5/29/2006 10:56 PM - email it
and then, my car broke.
::: right now, i have all matching hangers. white plastic, walmart. they cost like 4 cents. and most everyone i know has generally the same. i want to know when and how you get to the point where you cease to have matching hangers in life. i mean, how does that even happen? if i get to that point, i will be sad. im not too organized or anything, but the white hangers are something i can count on. :::
and then, just like that, i left them. i didnt think i was going to have room in my car [it was so full, sososo full.] and i put them in a trash bag and gave them away because i didnt think they would fit. the trouble is now, of course, i think they might have. there was nothing inside my trashcan [golly, i love my trashcan.] and i think they would have fit inside of it just perfectly. or at least perfectly enough to get home. but i didnt think i needed them; i thought that they were just hangers. i could get new hangers. it could be this great symbolic gesture or something. i dont know what i was thinking, actually.
needless to say, in about 5 minutes of driving, i suddenly realized that i was crazydumb for getting rid of them, and i want them back. im working on getting them back right now. i dont know what it is, really, cause i could go right now to walmart and get some that are exactly completely the same, but theres something about those. they are mine, and i want those. i imagine i sound like a 2-year-old about something so completely dumb as hangers, but there it is. i am traditional, maybe, if not sentimental, no matter how much i try to avoid that particular flaw.
and then my car broke. in st. louis. thankfully, happily, awkwardly, unconventionally [and probably even providentially], its fixed. [there are some things you can only laugh about, and this was one of them. but i dont even think it was really funny.] and when i was there, we went to the zoo. i got sooo sunburned, rode the train, and saw like 1000 animals, except for the lions. he was noooooowhere to be found, so i think he escaped. and also, the kangaroo wouldnt even hop one bit. i saw giraffes too, and we stood soo close to them. i was almost as tall as the newborn giraffe, and the grown ones are the tallest things ever. it was amazing. you can tell the girl elephants from the boy because they have bigger hips for real, which is funny, [among other reasons too, like males have tusks and girls dont. we were walking behind a couple of 6th grade [or so] boys near the asian elephant display [the african elephants were nowhere to be found either, but i dont think they were supposed to be there, unlike the lions, who were lost.] and the one boy wanted to know if the asian elephants had slanty eyes. ah. all those kids at the zoo were mostly cute and funny with all the animals, but i think 6th grade boys are something else, but also funny. so, you know.
the absolute weirdest thing i saw though was the giant anteater. ive heard about anteaters for all my life [born in texas, relatives are still there and everything.] and you just hear about anteaters. but this was the weirdest looking thing ive probably ever seen. it looked like an R.O.U.S. and the tail looked like it came from yankee doodle. it was insane, and i could not get over it. still cant.
and i like ducks. but if i were a bird, i dont know which one i would be. its hard to say.
what made me unhappiest of all [well, really the only thing that made me unhappy. the zoo is a happy place.] is all of these signs all over the zoo all about the endangered species, and thats okay. i mean, i have nothing against the endangered species, but i was just thinking of all of the people that die and stuff everyday. and they are doing so much to make sure that children know that some weirdo warthog or something might be going extinct, but they didnt say anything about the all the children that are dying everyday in africa. and i realize that its not the zoo's job to take up humanitarian causes, but i just thought those priorities were a little misplaced, or so.
books on tape are a marvelous invention. it occured to me that i dont acually know how to write a cover letter, and i need to learn. i have a drastic poem revision in my head, but it hasnt come to anything useful yet. you know, ive only been home for maybe 28 hours and already ive had to tell people that im not going to be a teacher, and that i dont know what im doing, but maybe sometimes i know where commas go and i can sometimes write a poem. its depressing. poetry is not highly valued, really, which makes the prospects of things a little dreary. but if there were two classes that i was super glad i took this semester it was 1) poetry and 2) reading out loud class. i was reading a wrinkle in time to my sisters tonight, which is lovely anyway, but i felt rather confident in doing the voices and such. and the best thing is, you dont even have to be drastic to do that, just a little change does the trick for simple reading out loud. performing is different, of course. but its so much fun! reading outloud is lovely [when you dont trip over all the words] and being read to is lovely, it makes you hear [no pun intended] things in a completely different way.
anyway, one of the quotes in the book i was listening to on the way home said something like "you know, we're all crazy. everybody. and we flatter ourselves to think we are the only ones who are crazy." and sometimes, i believe that[!] but sometimes, i wish people would be a little more crazy. just so i dont think im not the only one. maybe its just that the crazy people all live in different towns, and mostly just normal people live here, but i dont know. i think my parents think im crazy for wanting crazier people to talk to, but its something i cant quite explain. and there i am flattering myself, thinking that im crazier [in whatever sense of the word that i am, im not sure.] than everyone here. and im sure thats not acually the case, because it cant be the case. and then i feel all dumb and completely irrationally not to mention unnecessarily arrogant i wish i was 834 smidgins more insighful into the human psyche.
for like the 19834123 time, it seems like i had something else i was going to say, but i forget what else, except for now its time to unpack, and try to get even almost settled. i have all these ridiculous goals: do pilates or something / lose 6 pounds. subscribe to magazines that will remind/inspire me. read a million books. organize. simplify. pray. find something to wear. be able to paint the nails on my right hand as easily as i can the ones on my left. brush up on my spanish--as in be able to hold a real live conversation with someone. learn enough french to get by if i went to paris. remember how to cook. get my resume and portfolio in order. invest in some handkerchiefs. get my hangers back. buy manilla envelopes and stamps. buy some scotch tape. goodness knows i need it.
i feel like i should do something useful, and have big, important goals: change the world or something. then again, i know about commas and poems. so, nevermind. silly goals it will be then. and then if.and.or.when i manage to do something not absolutely ridiculously silly, it will be a surprise. a happy one. and who doesnt like surprises?
currently reading: she's come undone / wally lamb [audio books]
Posted 5/23/2006 11:26 AM
and then, just like that, i left them. i didnt think i was going to have room in my car [it was so full, sososo full.] and i put them in a trash bag and gave them away because i didnt think they would fit. the trouble is now, of course, i think they might have. there was nothing inside my trashcan [golly, i love my trashcan.] and i think they would have fit inside of it just perfectly. or at least perfectly enough to get home. but i didnt think i needed them; i thought that they were just hangers. i could get new hangers. it could be this great symbolic gesture or something. i dont know what i was thinking, actually.
needless to say, in about 5 minutes of driving, i suddenly realized that i was crazydumb for getting rid of them, and i want them back. im working on getting them back right now. i dont know what it is, really, cause i could go right now to walmart and get some that are exactly completely the same, but theres something about those. they are mine, and i want those. i imagine i sound like a 2-year-old about something so completely dumb as hangers, but there it is. i am traditional, maybe, if not sentimental, no matter how much i try to avoid that particular flaw.
and then my car broke. in st. louis. thankfully, happily, awkwardly, unconventionally [and probably even providentially], its fixed. [there are some things you can only laugh about, and this was one of them. but i dont even think it was really funny.] and when i was there, we went to the zoo. i got sooo sunburned, rode the train, and saw like 1000 animals, except for the lions. he was noooooowhere to be found, so i think he escaped. and also, the kangaroo wouldnt even hop one bit. i saw giraffes too, and we stood soo close to them. i was almost as tall as the newborn giraffe, and the grown ones are the tallest things ever. it was amazing. you can tell the girl elephants from the boy because they have bigger hips for real, which is funny, [among other reasons too, like males have tusks and girls dont. we were walking behind a couple of 6th grade [or so] boys near the asian elephant display [the african elephants were nowhere to be found either, but i dont think they were supposed to be there, unlike the lions, who were lost.] and the one boy wanted to know if the asian elephants had slanty eyes. ah. all those kids at the zoo were mostly cute and funny with all the animals, but i think 6th grade boys are something else, but also funny. so, you know.
the absolute weirdest thing i saw though was the giant anteater. ive heard about anteaters for all my life [born in texas, relatives are still there and everything.] and you just hear about anteaters. but this was the weirdest looking thing ive probably ever seen. it looked like an R.O.U.S. and the tail looked like it came from yankee doodle. it was insane, and i could not get over it. still cant.
and i like ducks. but if i were a bird, i dont know which one i would be. its hard to say.
what made me unhappiest of all [well, really the only thing that made me unhappy. the zoo is a happy place.] is all of these signs all over the zoo all about the endangered species, and thats okay. i mean, i have nothing against the endangered species, but i was just thinking of all of the people that die and stuff everyday. and they are doing so much to make sure that children know that some weirdo warthog or something might be going extinct, but they didnt say anything about the all the children that are dying everyday in africa. and i realize that its not the zoo's job to take up humanitarian causes, but i just thought those priorities were a little misplaced, or so.
books on tape are a marvelous invention. it occured to me that i dont acually know how to write a cover letter, and i need to learn. i have a drastic poem revision in my head, but it hasnt come to anything useful yet. you know, ive only been home for maybe 28 hours and already ive had to tell people that im not going to be a teacher, and that i dont know what im doing, but maybe sometimes i know where commas go and i can sometimes write a poem. its depressing. poetry is not highly valued, really, which makes the prospects of things a little dreary. but if there were two classes that i was super glad i took this semester it was 1) poetry and 2) reading out loud class. i was reading a wrinkle in time to my sisters tonight, which is lovely anyway, but i felt rather confident in doing the voices and such. and the best thing is, you dont even have to be drastic to do that, just a little change does the trick for simple reading out loud. performing is different, of course. but its so much fun! reading outloud is lovely [when you dont trip over all the words] and being read to is lovely, it makes you hear [no pun intended] things in a completely different way.
anyway, one of the quotes in the book i was listening to on the way home said something like "you know, we're all crazy. everybody. and we flatter ourselves to think we are the only ones who are crazy." and sometimes, i believe that[!] but sometimes, i wish people would be a little more crazy. just so i dont think im not the only one. maybe its just that the crazy people all live in different towns, and mostly just normal people live here, but i dont know. i think my parents think im crazy for wanting crazier people to talk to, but its something i cant quite explain. and there i am flattering myself, thinking that im crazier [in whatever sense of the word that i am, im not sure.] than everyone here. and im sure thats not acually the case, because it cant be the case. and then i feel all dumb and completely irrationally not to mention unnecessarily arrogant i wish i was 834 smidgins more insighful into the human psyche.
for like the 19834123 time, it seems like i had something else i was going to say, but i forget what else, except for now its time to unpack, and try to get even almost settled. i have all these ridiculous goals: do pilates or something / lose 6 pounds. subscribe to magazines that will remind/inspire me. read a million books. organize. simplify. pray. find something to wear. be able to paint the nails on my right hand as easily as i can the ones on my left. brush up on my spanish--as in be able to hold a real live conversation with someone. learn enough french to get by if i went to paris. remember how to cook. get my resume and portfolio in order. invest in some handkerchiefs. get my hangers back. buy manilla envelopes and stamps. buy some scotch tape. goodness knows i need it.
i feel like i should do something useful, and have big, important goals: change the world or something. then again, i know about commas and poems. so, nevermind. silly goals it will be then. and then if.and.or.when i manage to do something not absolutely ridiculously silly, it will be a surprise. a happy one. and who doesnt like surprises?
currently reading: she's come undone / wally lamb [audio books]
Posted 5/23/2006 11:26 AM
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