I.
Last night as i was sleeping
i dreamt--marvelous error!--
that i had a beehive
here, inside my heart.
and the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from all my old failures.
-- antonio machado, from times alone
II.
and the other day, this new friend of mine said something to me:
"just because it starts differently, doesnt mean its worth less."
and i soaked it in! how i soaked it in.
and just to prove how right he was, then you came.
-- peter, bjorn and john, from writers block "objects of my affection."
III.
by this we know love: that He laid down
his life for us, and we ought to lay down our life for
others. little children, do not let us love
in word or talk, but in deed and truth.
God is greater than our hearts.
--1 john 3:16, 18, 20
Showing posts with label { literarily speaking }. Show all posts
Showing posts with label { literarily speaking }. Show all posts
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Thursday, December 6, 2007
{ this post is to my library books as my library books are to my smudgy heart}
which means, of course, that its far overdue, which is the problem i always have with library books. this is because i love the library so much, and everytime i go i find a million books that i want so i check them out, and then, of course, i dont have enough time to read them, and i hate to give things back that i havent read yet. so then they are overdue and thats a problem. however, funnily enough, my notebook has been getting quite a bit of use lately, which is good and bad. i desperately need a laptop (mac or pc?!?!). i just cant write here otherwise, i think. i cant explain it, its psycological, i guess. but a lot of people here do not understand about my notebook. that is a big difference between here and college.
however, i lately had one night that was very miserable, and, therefore, i scribbled about 6 pages worth of notes for a book someday. i think it might be a good idea. maybe.
i got perhaps the worst haircut in my life the other day. i mean, it looks okay, but im not really sure its actually straight. or what i asked for when i went in. its always risky getting your haircut. i was thinking about it, and its really funny, because this sort of haircut is something that happens when i just cant stand it anymore, and i just have to get my haircut and then something happens, and you just feel better, because if everything else is out of your control, d***it, and there is nothing you can possibly do about it, but you can get your haircut, and so you will. but i realized this time that actually, you cant control this either, because you arent holding the sissors. and that is a big part of controlling the haircut. that is a slightly startling realization.
but it was almost worth it because the lady i was talking to was a little halirious. she told me all this crazy stuff and some funny stories and she kept saying "oh my lordy, God help us." and if she wasnt doing something or other with my hair i think she would have done the catholic cross thing (genuflect? i forget what its called.) because she was and old mexican lady who immigrated here 30 years ago. she had good stories. and she cared for people.
i want to do that.
but i wonder if it is a good idea or not, sometimes. friends seem fluid, and i apparently, am not good at it, really. which is funny because it never seemed hard for me. but neither did a lot of things, so i dont guess thats a really good way to judge. i do want, and need, friends, though. also, it is hard to think about real things here, sometimes, because so much time is taken up with normal living things: cleaning, deciding about dinner, dusting, etc. that is another difference between here and college. everything seemed bigger and more important there, and i didnt have to spend much time with various sundry details because there wasnt that much room for them. dusting, for instance, took half an instant for the whole dorm, if it was even necessary--no surface was hardly still long enough to merit the need for it.
however, here i work at the rescue mission. i know a guy who was beat up in the ghetto, and there was a lady who died because a cinder block was dropped on her head while she was driving and another guy whose car was stolen. and we are learning about the sermon on the mount at church (you should listen too.) and i dont know. its harder to care here, maybe, but with more opportunities. which is ironic.
but everything is something to offer, even in this discouraging, lonely, scary, hopeful, and mysterious old world.
things are not necessarily good over here, you know. dumb things are hard, and i have a hard time with them. but things are not bad, either. i often think that things that should not be happening to me are (not strictly circumstancial, though, because we must learn to rejoice in them and through them); and that things that should be happening to me or seem to always be happening to someone else, do not happen to me regularly at all, or even infrequently, or never. is this a problem? maybe this is why ive been on an eighties movie kick lately. which has put me in the mood for 80s music. any suggestions for good stuff?
also, i have lots of mosquito bites, for some reason. and it is hard to walk in the rain and eat chicken nuggets and smile at people.
smiling at people is newly, or perhaps more renew-ed-ly important. this is something that a dog is good for. i have been trying to walk the dog. this is important to me because 1) i feel like im getting fatter since ive been home, which is probably only half a smidgin true, but it feels like more, so i should exercise and 2) its nice outsitde most nights and 3) because it is nice to say hello to people. ti do try to do that when i walk. it is good. and it is a way to be friends, fluidly, and that is how it should be, so you dont feel sad--rather, you feel just the opposite. i have made lots of random friends this way. once, when i was shopping, i encountered a former kindergardener named sophie and we had a very nice lengthy conversation. and we were best friends for 10 minutes and she gave me a hug when she left and that was just how it should be.
it was also good because it distracted me from my growing irritation with shopping. it used to be that i got irritated because nothing was modest, or it didnt fit right. and these things are still true. but it is rather rapidly being replaced by two things: first, i hate having to look at each piece of clothing and stand there and decide whether the article of clothing is a dress or a skirt, or a shirt. half of this stuff is virtually indistinguishable. and that is irritating. it lengthens time time required for any shopping trip by a lot cause you have to stand there and decide about everything. grrrr. the other irritation is that i am not pregnant (insofar as i can tell. theres always that nagging worry, per the x-ray complications, and the internet research with the two-times-ago roommates.) nor do i have any desire to look pregnant. and 3/4 of the clothing available is also suitable for maternity wear. its a little insane. oh, if only i was pregnant right now, i would be all set. im tempted to stock up anyway for when i am pregnant, because im sure by then, that only skinny styles will be in fashion, and i will be doomed to wear old lady pregnant clothes. maybe then i will look like im from the 80s. how exciting.
anyway, last time i was walking puppy, i let her run around in this great field, which was still smelling damp and freshly cut and clovery. there is nothing i like so well, unless you add the fireflies and what do you know, there were fireflies. and life was good, even though. and the whole thing was entirely too poetical to put into an actual poem, so i will write it in prose, but it was lovely. a few moments before i started walking, someone told me to be sure and look at the sun (what a remarkable thing! i usually tell people to look at the moon) because it was setting very prettily. so i looked as i was walking,but i could never see it. as i was leaving the field and there was a bright light through the trees and i thought that it must be the sunset. turned out, it was a street light.
i was certainly glad it wasnt the sun.
we really do have smudgy hearts, dont we?
Posted 7/18/2007 9:50 AM
however, i lately had one night that was very miserable, and, therefore, i scribbled about 6 pages worth of notes for a book someday. i think it might be a good idea. maybe.
i got perhaps the worst haircut in my life the other day. i mean, it looks okay, but im not really sure its actually straight. or what i asked for when i went in. its always risky getting your haircut. i was thinking about it, and its really funny, because this sort of haircut is something that happens when i just cant stand it anymore, and i just have to get my haircut and then something happens, and you just feel better, because if everything else is out of your control, d***it, and there is nothing you can possibly do about it, but you can get your haircut, and so you will. but i realized this time that actually, you cant control this either, because you arent holding the sissors. and that is a big part of controlling the haircut. that is a slightly startling realization.
but it was almost worth it because the lady i was talking to was a little halirious. she told me all this crazy stuff and some funny stories and she kept saying "oh my lordy, God help us." and if she wasnt doing something or other with my hair i think she would have done the catholic cross thing (genuflect? i forget what its called.) because she was and old mexican lady who immigrated here 30 years ago. she had good stories. and she cared for people.
i want to do that.
but i wonder if it is a good idea or not, sometimes. friends seem fluid, and i apparently, am not good at it, really. which is funny because it never seemed hard for me. but neither did a lot of things, so i dont guess thats a really good way to judge. i do want, and need, friends, though. also, it is hard to think about real things here, sometimes, because so much time is taken up with normal living things: cleaning, deciding about dinner, dusting, etc. that is another difference between here and college. everything seemed bigger and more important there, and i didnt have to spend much time with various sundry details because there wasnt that much room for them. dusting, for instance, took half an instant for the whole dorm, if it was even necessary--no surface was hardly still long enough to merit the need for it.
however, here i work at the rescue mission. i know a guy who was beat up in the ghetto, and there was a lady who died because a cinder block was dropped on her head while she was driving and another guy whose car was stolen. and we are learning about the sermon on the mount at church (you should listen too.) and i dont know. its harder to care here, maybe, but with more opportunities. which is ironic.
but everything is something to offer, even in this discouraging, lonely, scary, hopeful, and mysterious old world.
things are not necessarily good over here, you know. dumb things are hard, and i have a hard time with them. but things are not bad, either. i often think that things that should not be happening to me are (not strictly circumstancial, though, because we must learn to rejoice in them and through them); and that things that should be happening to me or seem to always be happening to someone else, do not happen to me regularly at all, or even infrequently, or never. is this a problem? maybe this is why ive been on an eighties movie kick lately. which has put me in the mood for 80s music. any suggestions for good stuff?
also, i have lots of mosquito bites, for some reason. and it is hard to walk in the rain and eat chicken nuggets and smile at people.
smiling at people is newly, or perhaps more renew-ed-ly important. this is something that a dog is good for. i have been trying to walk the dog. this is important to me because 1) i feel like im getting fatter since ive been home, which is probably only half a smidgin true, but it feels like more, so i should exercise and 2) its nice outsitde most nights and 3) because it is nice to say hello to people. ti do try to do that when i walk. it is good. and it is a way to be friends, fluidly, and that is how it should be, so you dont feel sad--rather, you feel just the opposite. i have made lots of random friends this way. once, when i was shopping, i encountered a former kindergardener named sophie and we had a very nice lengthy conversation. and we were best friends for 10 minutes and she gave me a hug when she left and that was just how it should be.
it was also good because it distracted me from my growing irritation with shopping. it used to be that i got irritated because nothing was modest, or it didnt fit right. and these things are still true. but it is rather rapidly being replaced by two things: first, i hate having to look at each piece of clothing and stand there and decide whether the article of clothing is a dress or a skirt, or a shirt. half of this stuff is virtually indistinguishable. and that is irritating. it lengthens time time required for any shopping trip by a lot cause you have to stand there and decide about everything. grrrr. the other irritation is that i am not pregnant (insofar as i can tell. theres always that nagging worry, per the x-ray complications, and the internet research with the two-times-ago roommates.) nor do i have any desire to look pregnant. and 3/4 of the clothing available is also suitable for maternity wear. its a little insane. oh, if only i was pregnant right now, i would be all set. im tempted to stock up anyway for when i am pregnant, because im sure by then, that only skinny styles will be in fashion, and i will be doomed to wear old lady pregnant clothes. maybe then i will look like im from the 80s. how exciting.
anyway, last time i was walking puppy, i let her run around in this great field, which was still smelling damp and freshly cut and clovery. there is nothing i like so well, unless you add the fireflies and what do you know, there were fireflies. and life was good, even though. and the whole thing was entirely too poetical to put into an actual poem, so i will write it in prose, but it was lovely. a few moments before i started walking, someone told me to be sure and look at the sun (what a remarkable thing! i usually tell people to look at the moon) because it was setting very prettily. so i looked as i was walking,but i could never see it. as i was leaving the field and there was a bright light through the trees and i thought that it must be the sunset. turned out, it was a street light.
i was certainly glad it wasnt the sun.
we really do have smudgy hearts, dont we?
Posted 7/18/2007 9:50 AM
{ my screen debut }
this is my screen debut. actually, more like my literary and stage debut, but whatever.
the best part is that this conversation actually happened. like 58 times. seriously.
these were good times. and this makes me laugh so much.
(and it was in a real live play.)
and i am still curious about chickens.
and now, because its happy, my scene:
(Back at the house. Margie enters; Henry is sitting in an easy chair.)
Margie: Henry, there you are! I've been running about like a chicken.
Henry: A chicken?
Margie: Yes, I've got to find…
Henry: Marge, chickens don't just run around. The phrase is, 'I'm running around like a chicken with its head…'
Margie: I know what the phrase is, Henry.
Henry: But if you said…
Margie: Wait, how do you know about chickens?
Henry: I used to have chickens on a farm.
Margie: You did not.
Henry: Oh, no, come to think of it, I chronically lie about my past as a chicken farmer in order to pick up chicks. (HE realizes the pun, then laughs.)
Margie: It's not funny.
Henry: You get it? I didn't mean to, but it's funny.
Margie: Yeah, yeah. You always are.
(and so on.)
currently playing: the plain white T's // hey there, delilah
Posted 5/25/2007 9:22 PM
the best part is that this conversation actually happened. like 58 times. seriously.
these were good times. and this makes me laugh so much.
(and it was in a real live play.)
and i am still curious about chickens.
and now, because its happy, my scene:
(Back at the house. Margie enters; Henry is sitting in an easy chair.)
Margie: Henry, there you are! I've been running about like a chicken.
Henry: A chicken?
Margie: Yes, I've got to find…
Henry: Marge, chickens don't just run around. The phrase is, 'I'm running around like a chicken with its head…'
Margie: I know what the phrase is, Henry.
Henry: But if you said…
Margie: Wait, how do you know about chickens?
Henry: I used to have chickens on a farm.
Margie: You did not.
Henry: Oh, no, come to think of it, I chronically lie about my past as a chicken farmer in order to pick up chicks. (HE realizes the pun, then laughs.)
Margie: It's not funny.
Henry: You get it? I didn't mean to, but it's funny.
Margie: Yeah, yeah. You always are.
(and so on.)
currently playing: the plain white T's // hey there, delilah
Posted 5/25/2007 9:22 PM
the baby cow
( like always: its not anywhere near finished yet, so improvement suggestions are more than appreciated.
but--i have some semblance of a poem! and i am happy to be fussing with it, even though-- all things considered.
there is certainly grace for the moment. more to come. but here---edit! )
The Baby Cow
for Jack, who taught me how to fish
Coming home from the war, you rode a train from New
York to Tennessee to Alabama, which was home. You stopped
in Jackson because you couldn’t wait any longer for some fried chicken,
which they didn’t have in France. It wasn’t as good as your mothers.
My great-grandmother makes the most southern fried chicken
anyone has ever put in their mouth. Her biscuits could have been fed
to the confederate army before battle, so the boys would die thinking of home.
I certainly do not have this skill.
This is probably because I do not understand chickens.
I do not understand which eggs are shipped to warehouses in Milwaukee,
and then to the corner grocery in Odessa, established 1811,
and which are incubated, en masse, warm and safe.
Eventually, a chick breaks through the translucent shell,
and undertakes its chickenly duties, until the end of its life. And I do not understand
how chickens manage to run around after their heads are cut off.
I certainly do not have that skill, either.
The same cigar has been in your mouth since the war,
and since then you have fancied yourself an artist. We take our notebooks
and find a spot by the riverbank and sketch any dandelion or caterpillar
that comes across our path. We are not only artists, but scientists:
later, we take our drawings to the library and find the scientific names,
Magnoliopsida Asteraceae, and add any necessary details to the drawings
that we missed before. We are precise, and precisely none of this has ever happened.
What happened was this: we woke earlier than the fish and spent an hour digging
for the best worms (I used my thumb and forefinger as a pair of forceps).
Finally, at the pond, we got ourselves situated in a good spot, near the reeds,
and, despite the rope tied around my baby-girl waist, I promptly fell in.
both annoyed and amused, you fished me out and walked me home. You told me
a story about a man you knew in France, who also got himself into a river
and couldn’t swim. That man bought a horse for five dollars from a nearby farm
The stories I like best are about farms. Your great-grandmother
used eight gallons of syrup a day to feed all her children and the farmhands;
your great-aunt’s best friend got stuck on the barn roof for half the night
before anyone could talk her into coming down. And your father
was the last keeper of the Baby Cow. The Baby Cow’s stall was the second
from the end on the right, and had been since 1842, in a controversial move
by whichever distant relative was the Baby-Cow-Keeper at that time.
The cow was not fed raw silage or rough grain, nor was it allowed
to eat fresh grass from the field. Everyone in the town contributed
hay and short for feed, and the Baby Cow contributed warm,sweet milk
for every hungry baby. And every person in the town, from 1788-1962, was fed
from the Baby Cow, or the Baby Cow’s mother, grandmother, great-grandmother,
great-great-grandmother, and so on, together and again, amen.
“The end of an era,” people said when the Baby Cow, and FDR,
passed on. They lit a candle, said their prayers. It is a night for prayers:
both unanswered and unprayed. I want my unborn children to learn
all the things I have missed: the way to climb to the tallest trees and how to skip
rocks all the way across the pond (mine stop after two skips).
And how to whittle. I’ve always wanted to know how to whittle.
I will pray for these things as I sit by the riverbank.
Posted 5/18/2007 12:19 AM
but--i have some semblance of a poem! and i am happy to be fussing with it, even though-- all things considered.
there is certainly grace for the moment. more to come. but here---edit! )
The Baby Cow
for Jack, who taught me how to fish
Coming home from the war, you rode a train from New
York to Tennessee to Alabama, which was home. You stopped
in Jackson because you couldn’t wait any longer for some fried chicken,
which they didn’t have in France. It wasn’t as good as your mothers.
My great-grandmother makes the most southern fried chicken
anyone has ever put in their mouth. Her biscuits could have been fed
to the confederate army before battle, so the boys would die thinking of home.
I certainly do not have this skill.
This is probably because I do not understand chickens.
I do not understand which eggs are shipped to warehouses in Milwaukee,
and then to the corner grocery in Odessa, established 1811,
and which are incubated, en masse, warm and safe.
Eventually, a chick breaks through the translucent shell,
and undertakes its chickenly duties, until the end of its life. And I do not understand
how chickens manage to run around after their heads are cut off.
I certainly do not have that skill, either.
The same cigar has been in your mouth since the war,
and since then you have fancied yourself an artist. We take our notebooks
and find a spot by the riverbank and sketch any dandelion or caterpillar
that comes across our path. We are not only artists, but scientists:
later, we take our drawings to the library and find the scientific names,
Magnoliopsida Asteraceae, and add any necessary details to the drawings
that we missed before. We are precise, and precisely none of this has ever happened.
What happened was this: we woke earlier than the fish and spent an hour digging
for the best worms (I used my thumb and forefinger as a pair of forceps).
Finally, at the pond, we got ourselves situated in a good spot, near the reeds,
and, despite the rope tied around my baby-girl waist, I promptly fell in.
both annoyed and amused, you fished me out and walked me home. You told me
a story about a man you knew in France, who also got himself into a river
and couldn’t swim. That man bought a horse for five dollars from a nearby farm
The stories I like best are about farms. Your great-grandmother
used eight gallons of syrup a day to feed all her children and the farmhands;
your great-aunt’s best friend got stuck on the barn roof for half the night
before anyone could talk her into coming down. And your father
was the last keeper of the Baby Cow. The Baby Cow’s stall was the second
from the end on the right, and had been since 1842, in a controversial move
by whichever distant relative was the Baby-Cow-Keeper at that time.
The cow was not fed raw silage or rough grain, nor was it allowed
to eat fresh grass from the field. Everyone in the town contributed
hay and short for feed, and the Baby Cow contributed warm,sweet milk
for every hungry baby. And every person in the town, from 1788-1962, was fed
from the Baby Cow, or the Baby Cow’s mother, grandmother, great-grandmother,
great-great-grandmother, and so on, together and again, amen.
“The end of an era,” people said when the Baby Cow, and FDR,
passed on. They lit a candle, said their prayers. It is a night for prayers:
both unanswered and unprayed. I want my unborn children to learn
all the things I have missed: the way to climb to the tallest trees and how to skip
rocks all the way across the pond (mine stop after two skips).
And how to whittle. I’ve always wanted to know how to whittle.
I will pray for these things as I sit by the riverbank.
Posted 5/18/2007 12:19 AM
{ things i have been doing }
1. traveling
actually, this was last week, as i didnt get to actually go anywhere for my real spring break this week. i went with my mother and sisters to see my grandparents in texas last week. it wasnt really a fun trip, but it was good to see them.
these are my questions: 1. why is gas so freaking expensive? it jumped 30ish cents in the past week. gross.
2. how come people and hotels dont think that details matter? i mean, really. how hard can it be to open the hotel-order-decorations-magazine and realize that something besides teal green and peach would be nice to decorate the rooms with? our new favorite hotels are the holiday inn express ones, just cause they feel the least like an eighties bridesmaid dress or dentist office in general. they have real pillows and nice big towels and showers and free breakfast and it doesnt look like a hotel. they have real art, even. props to them. but--why did it take so long for them to figure that out? and why doesnt everyone else figure it out? they would make more money that way, pretty sure.
2. music-ing
my cousin has unlimited downloads on napster for $15 a month or something ridiculous. and i dont really like napster (i think its unnecessarily complicated), but i managed to download lots of awesome new music when i was there (hopefully while i was at it, i expanded her taste from just justin timberlake and christina (dont judge too harshly, shes 14). (by the way, im always so disappointed in christitna agulara (sp?) because one time i watched this whole special all about how she studied opera and all this really really good music stuff and shes so, so talented, and shes just wasting it.) it has been quite the challange to get it to play on my computer, but i think i have it so i can at least play it, if nothing else.
(new favorite band from this venture: meese.)
3. cooking
somehow in texas i got put in charge of cooking.
i cant cook. goodness. but i learned, and everything was edible. i felt like izzy stevens though, cause there were sometimes i didnt know what to do to help my grandparents (who are getting very old, by the way) so instead i just baked cakes. and i am good at that. somehow, the one thing that i can manage to make very tastily is icing. mmmmmm. its good, if i do say so myself.
maybe if i keep cooking, ill be good at it, but im not getting my hopes up. and of course, its hard to say whether tasting good or getting done at the right time is more important. because im decent at getting everything done all together. it does suck to have your mashed potatoes be sitting there in front of you getting nice and cooled off while youre waiting for your steak to finish cooking. it also sucks to have to eat your whole meal and then have the rolls for dessert, cause someone forgot to put them in on time. so: on time i can do. yay.
and now its easter, so ill be baking cookies and bread all afternoon. and the cookies will have sprinkles, probably. God help us all.
(im not sure why sprinkles are so traumatic, but they are sometimes. i think it might have to do with the extra mess it produces.)
4. writing
trying to write this article right now.
im so out of practice! im having such a hard time. goodness.
5. eastering
we've been singing all the easter songs for good friday and such. we sang such a lovely latin-y version of o sacred head now wounded. i like songs that sound like that. they make me wish i was catholic almost--there is something majestic about liturgy. but its cool. also, i just like singing in that almost-opera way. one feels very refined and amused while doing so. and its just so wonderfully shiver-y.
my favorite moment of easter, hands down, (besides the obligatory but still true and lovely death and resurrection) is the curtain rip in the temple. its just so terrifying and mysterious and lovely and meaningful. mmm. i like it.
and its going to be so cold this easter! im going to have to wear my christmas dress instead of easter, so i dont freeze. like our poor tulips outside.
6. getting
a job! yes, i think im employed.
its with peoria rescue ministries (which include a homeless shelter for men, and women (but seperately) and all kinds of things. and i will be the public relations coordinator, eventually. first i get to just hang out and learn stuff with the current PR person before she and her husband move away to seminary. people keep asking me if im excited. and i am. but i think thats overwhelmed by 1) the relief that someone wanted to hire me and my education wasnt totally useless. and 2) nervous! im so nervous and scared. lots of responsibility here.
and i dont know what im doing. my minor was PR, but i only know about 5 minutes worth of it.
oh dear.
they already gave me an umbrella.
also, this job comes with rules. im not allowed to get married within the next 6 months. not sure why that is. but he said to me and i quote: "so, once the business manager comes back into town, you can fill out all the forms for taxes." and so on and so forth. and then, as i was leaving he was all like, "oh, and no getting married in the next six months! you know that, right?" (i said "dont worry sir, i dont think im in much danger of that." but i wonder why anyway.)
so. there it is.
7. shopping
and right after i start, i have to go to this formal dinner to see how to do it and the invitation says "dressy attire." can anyone explain what that means? its nicer than sunday clothes, but not black tie. what does that even constitute?! i have no idea. do any of you know? if you do, please tell me!
if you are male, count yourselves very blessed.
and again, i would be very, very happy to have the wardrobe possibilieies of jackie kennedy O. and lorelai gilmore.
there seems like theres more stuff (like sleepover-ing and reading and spring cleaning and stuff), but oh well.
i was in the grocery store yesterday and i told the wonderful grandmotherly lady with burgendy pink fingernails and lots of jewelry
happy easter.
she said
ohh, same to you, sweets.
(and i'll second that.)
Posted 4/7/2007 1:09 PM
actually, this was last week, as i didnt get to actually go anywhere for my real spring break this week. i went with my mother and sisters to see my grandparents in texas last week. it wasnt really a fun trip, but it was good to see them.
these are my questions: 1. why is gas so freaking expensive? it jumped 30ish cents in the past week. gross.
2. how come people and hotels dont think that details matter? i mean, really. how hard can it be to open the hotel-order-decorations-magazine and realize that something besides teal green and peach would be nice to decorate the rooms with? our new favorite hotels are the holiday inn express ones, just cause they feel the least like an eighties bridesmaid dress or dentist office in general. they have real pillows and nice big towels and showers and free breakfast and it doesnt look like a hotel. they have real art, even. props to them. but--why did it take so long for them to figure that out? and why doesnt everyone else figure it out? they would make more money that way, pretty sure.
2. music-ing
my cousin has unlimited downloads on napster for $15 a month or something ridiculous. and i dont really like napster (i think its unnecessarily complicated), but i managed to download lots of awesome new music when i was there (hopefully while i was at it, i expanded her taste from just justin timberlake and christina (dont judge too harshly, shes 14). (by the way, im always so disappointed in christitna agulara (sp?) because one time i watched this whole special all about how she studied opera and all this really really good music stuff and shes so, so talented, and shes just wasting it.) it has been quite the challange to get it to play on my computer, but i think i have it so i can at least play it, if nothing else.
(new favorite band from this venture: meese.)
3. cooking
somehow in texas i got put in charge of cooking.
i cant cook. goodness. but i learned, and everything was edible. i felt like izzy stevens though, cause there were sometimes i didnt know what to do to help my grandparents (who are getting very old, by the way) so instead i just baked cakes. and i am good at that. somehow, the one thing that i can manage to make very tastily is icing. mmmmmm. its good, if i do say so myself.
maybe if i keep cooking, ill be good at it, but im not getting my hopes up. and of course, its hard to say whether tasting good or getting done at the right time is more important. because im decent at getting everything done all together. it does suck to have your mashed potatoes be sitting there in front of you getting nice and cooled off while youre waiting for your steak to finish cooking. it also sucks to have to eat your whole meal and then have the rolls for dessert, cause someone forgot to put them in on time. so: on time i can do. yay.
and now its easter, so ill be baking cookies and bread all afternoon. and the cookies will have sprinkles, probably. God help us all.
(im not sure why sprinkles are so traumatic, but they are sometimes. i think it might have to do with the extra mess it produces.)
4. writing
trying to write this article right now.
im so out of practice! im having such a hard time. goodness.
5. eastering
we've been singing all the easter songs for good friday and such. we sang such a lovely latin-y version of o sacred head now wounded. i like songs that sound like that. they make me wish i was catholic almost--there is something majestic about liturgy. but its cool. also, i just like singing in that almost-opera way. one feels very refined and amused while doing so. and its just so wonderfully shiver-y.
my favorite moment of easter, hands down, (besides the obligatory but still true and lovely death and resurrection) is the curtain rip in the temple. its just so terrifying and mysterious and lovely and meaningful. mmm. i like it.
and its going to be so cold this easter! im going to have to wear my christmas dress instead of easter, so i dont freeze. like our poor tulips outside.
6. getting
a job! yes, i think im employed.
its with peoria rescue ministries (which include a homeless shelter for men, and women (but seperately) and all kinds of things. and i will be the public relations coordinator, eventually. first i get to just hang out and learn stuff with the current PR person before she and her husband move away to seminary. people keep asking me if im excited. and i am. but i think thats overwhelmed by 1) the relief that someone wanted to hire me and my education wasnt totally useless. and 2) nervous! im so nervous and scared. lots of responsibility here.
and i dont know what im doing. my minor was PR, but i only know about 5 minutes worth of it.
oh dear.
they already gave me an umbrella.
also, this job comes with rules. im not allowed to get married within the next 6 months. not sure why that is. but he said to me and i quote: "so, once the business manager comes back into town, you can fill out all the forms for taxes." and so on and so forth. and then, as i was leaving he was all like, "oh, and no getting married in the next six months! you know that, right?" (i said "dont worry sir, i dont think im in much danger of that." but i wonder why anyway.)
so. there it is.
7. shopping
and right after i start, i have to go to this formal dinner to see how to do it and the invitation says "dressy attire." can anyone explain what that means? its nicer than sunday clothes, but not black tie. what does that even constitute?! i have no idea. do any of you know? if you do, please tell me!
if you are male, count yourselves very blessed.
and again, i would be very, very happy to have the wardrobe possibilieies of jackie kennedy O. and lorelai gilmore.
there seems like theres more stuff (like sleepover-ing and reading and spring cleaning and stuff), but oh well.
i was in the grocery store yesterday and i told the wonderful grandmotherly lady with burgendy pink fingernails and lots of jewelry
happy easter.
she said
ohh, same to you, sweets.
(and i'll second that.)
Posted 4/7/2007 1:09 PM
the continuation.
[part one was 01.17.07]
[ the continuation. 02.04.07]
(first, a few additions/clarifications. im not ready to get married right now. but when i do, here are some qualifications: ive got to marry a guy who likes salsa chunks. i feel so bad leaving all my chunks all the time, and at present i dont even have roommates to eat them. and: he should walk at a similar speed to me. and have nice ears. we have to laugh a lot, and a few other things, but those are important ones. oh yeah, and when i said i would rather fight than be indifferent, i didnt mean i wanted to fight. more like what anne said: i think i'd like it if he could be wicked, and wouldnt. yes, i am planning on marrying someone whom i love very much. also, the new plan is to get married to someone with the last name of edwards, maybe, and then ill have the same name as julie andrews did when she got married and then when i write a book, everyone will want to buy it because they think that julie andrews wrote it, and everyone should read everything she wrote, because shes amazing. isnt that a good plan? the end again.)
right, so i think i can safely? say that i am in a good place. i own less than i ever have.i dont have a real job. and my job for right now is hard. most of my real-est friends arent here. i havent written a single, solitary thing, rendering my degree useless. i dont know what i want to do. im not getting married. i dont even know whats going on. but its good. there have been ever-so-small, but still present, moments of grace and guidance. and i am learning to trust.
(also, daddy went to mayo clinic, and came back with no diagnosis. but they think that its treatable anyway. geez. and we were so worried about him. thank you all for your prayers. dont stop, just on principle.)
[ the continuation 02.15.07]
i dont understand things.im a little bitter right now, so im sorry about that. this is why:i turned down the first job offer to do something i thought was more important. and then i got put into a place where i might get to do that more important thing. in short, i inherited a sixth grade class. they are really not that great. but i kindof liked them. and i thought i was doing the right thing. now i might not get them anymore. maybe i cant be a foster parent. ive only had them for a week and im illogically depressed about leaving them. there was so much more they need to know! i want them to be successful. and right now, they cant even punctuate sentences properly.and yes, these two things are directly related. and one of them gave me a valentine.[i caught a girl blatently cheating on a test last week and so i wrote her a detention and, after checking with the principle to be sure, gave her a zero percent, with a note as to why. as i handed things back today, she read it and said: "a zero? thats bogus. i did not deserve a zero. thats just dumb." i ask you: what is the world coming to?]
there are other jobs, but i dont know how to get them. they do not teach you this in college.shall i try to teach? make the other place (that i really wanted and was so excited about) want me? is that even possible?someone tell me how to send someone a decent portfolio that makes them want you? please?and: i have a cold.and: because my graysanatomy friends arent here to watch it with me, ive dragged my father into watching it with me. (btw: he started his treatment for whatever type of lymphoma he has today, and its not chemo, which is great. and he wont die from it, and thats great.) i imagine its funny to see us watch it. im all squeal, squeal and hes all calm down, its just tv. but you know hes all into it too.and: meredith gray has the same shoes as me. i will never let my mothers comments about my needing a different pair shoes bother me ever again. because i do have a different pair. i just like these. and i know she does too, deep down. or will, once i tell her that if i keep wearing them, ill lose 28 pounds and get to be on tv.and: i miss my friends. and i suck-a-mug at keeping in touch. and thats sucky.
[the continuation 02.09.07]
i used to think, when i was little that brian busby [who was our local weatherman] was the weatherman for everywhere. and then i saw him somewhere and i got his autograph and i was so excited.i feel like very little of what made me me last year, or last semester even is misplaced. like i said: i havent written-- i cant. my friends arent here. i dont have my coziest little dorm and i cant make brownies anytime i want. heck, i cant even go to walmart after 11 pm 1) because the closest one closes and 2) its so ghettofabulous, that even if it was open, i'd be too scared to go, straight up.the question is: am i still me? i would like to think so. i liked me. i need someone here to help me find me. and an editor.
in the new testament, the jews wanted to change the whole world. Jesus asked just to change them, personally. this is (almost?) harder; no wonder they didnt want him. i understand this. i want to change the world, too; he wants me to change.i want to be someone who knows how to treat people. apparently my age group is a hard age group to talk to: it seems hard for people. we arent little, definately. we arent teenagers either. but i wouldnt call myself a grown-up. im half and half. or 60/40. or something. blessed is the one who knows how to talk to us without being condescending or nervous, or dumb, but rather being honest and funny and caring and even when we say stupid things, which is bound to happen, just loving us anyway. i want to be one of these people.and i want to improve my handwriting and read more. (ive been working on this.) and ive been baking bread, and knitting. you can call me marthastewart, cause thats my middle name. er. something.
[the continuation 01.24.07]
i have not ended up anywhere, yet.
[the continuation 02.12.07]
there should be a study on what our stamps say about us. i think ive finally reached a place in my life where my stamps of choice are the superhero ones. i never read comics or anything, though. what does this mean?
Posted 2/15/2007 11:14 PM -
[ the continuation. 02.04.07]
(first, a few additions/clarifications. im not ready to get married right now. but when i do, here are some qualifications: ive got to marry a guy who likes salsa chunks. i feel so bad leaving all my chunks all the time, and at present i dont even have roommates to eat them. and: he should walk at a similar speed to me. and have nice ears. we have to laugh a lot, and a few other things, but those are important ones. oh yeah, and when i said i would rather fight than be indifferent, i didnt mean i wanted to fight. more like what anne said: i think i'd like it if he could be wicked, and wouldnt. yes, i am planning on marrying someone whom i love very much. also, the new plan is to get married to someone with the last name of edwards, maybe, and then ill have the same name as julie andrews did when she got married and then when i write a book, everyone will want to buy it because they think that julie andrews wrote it, and everyone should read everything she wrote, because shes amazing. isnt that a good plan? the end again.)
right, so i think i can safely? say that i am in a good place. i own less than i ever have.i dont have a real job. and my job for right now is hard. most of my real-est friends arent here. i havent written a single, solitary thing, rendering my degree useless. i dont know what i want to do. im not getting married. i dont even know whats going on. but its good. there have been ever-so-small, but still present, moments of grace and guidance. and i am learning to trust.
(also, daddy went to mayo clinic, and came back with no diagnosis. but they think that its treatable anyway. geez. and we were so worried about him. thank you all for your prayers. dont stop, just on principle.)
[ the continuation 02.15.07]
i dont understand things.im a little bitter right now, so im sorry about that. this is why:i turned down the first job offer to do something i thought was more important. and then i got put into a place where i might get to do that more important thing. in short, i inherited a sixth grade class. they are really not that great. but i kindof liked them. and i thought i was doing the right thing. now i might not get them anymore. maybe i cant be a foster parent. ive only had them for a week and im illogically depressed about leaving them. there was so much more they need to know! i want them to be successful. and right now, they cant even punctuate sentences properly.and yes, these two things are directly related. and one of them gave me a valentine.[i caught a girl blatently cheating on a test last week and so i wrote her a detention and, after checking with the principle to be sure, gave her a zero percent, with a note as to why. as i handed things back today, she read it and said: "a zero? thats bogus. i did not deserve a zero. thats just dumb." i ask you: what is the world coming to?]
there are other jobs, but i dont know how to get them. they do not teach you this in college.shall i try to teach? make the other place (that i really wanted and was so excited about) want me? is that even possible?someone tell me how to send someone a decent portfolio that makes them want you? please?and: i have a cold.and: because my graysanatomy friends arent here to watch it with me, ive dragged my father into watching it with me. (btw: he started his treatment for whatever type of lymphoma he has today, and its not chemo, which is great. and he wont die from it, and thats great.) i imagine its funny to see us watch it. im all squeal, squeal and hes all calm down, its just tv. but you know hes all into it too.and: meredith gray has the same shoes as me. i will never let my mothers comments about my needing a different pair shoes bother me ever again. because i do have a different pair. i just like these. and i know she does too, deep down. or will, once i tell her that if i keep wearing them, ill lose 28 pounds and get to be on tv.and: i miss my friends. and i suck-a-mug at keeping in touch. and thats sucky.
[the continuation 02.09.07]
i used to think, when i was little that brian busby [who was our local weatherman] was the weatherman for everywhere. and then i saw him somewhere and i got his autograph and i was so excited.i feel like very little of what made me me last year, or last semester even is misplaced. like i said: i havent written-- i cant. my friends arent here. i dont have my coziest little dorm and i cant make brownies anytime i want. heck, i cant even go to walmart after 11 pm 1) because the closest one closes and 2) its so ghettofabulous, that even if it was open, i'd be too scared to go, straight up.the question is: am i still me? i would like to think so. i liked me. i need someone here to help me find me. and an editor.
in the new testament, the jews wanted to change the whole world. Jesus asked just to change them, personally. this is (almost?) harder; no wonder they didnt want him. i understand this. i want to change the world, too; he wants me to change.i want to be someone who knows how to treat people. apparently my age group is a hard age group to talk to: it seems hard for people. we arent little, definately. we arent teenagers either. but i wouldnt call myself a grown-up. im half and half. or 60/40. or something. blessed is the one who knows how to talk to us without being condescending or nervous, or dumb, but rather being honest and funny and caring and even when we say stupid things, which is bound to happen, just loving us anyway. i want to be one of these people.and i want to improve my handwriting and read more. (ive been working on this.) and ive been baking bread, and knitting. you can call me marthastewart, cause thats my middle name. er. something.
[the continuation 01.24.07]
i have not ended up anywhere, yet.
[the continuation 02.12.07]
there should be a study on what our stamps say about us. i think ive finally reached a place in my life where my stamps of choice are the superhero ones. i never read comics or anything, though. what does this mean?
Posted 2/15/2007 11:14 PM -
a new voyage will fill your life with untold memories.
[chinese fortune cookie from new hong kong from today.]
how ridiculously appropriate. tommorrow i shall graduate from college, and, while it is less of a big deal than I thought, it still is something, i think. i am glad, after all, that i get to graduate in december. it is less of big deal that way, and even though i caused 1000 people's schedules to be moved around because of me [no really, its true. and i feel a bit like helen of troy] its still only a moderately big deal, and i approve of that. i have come to unappreciate big deals more and more. even though i probably make them on a daily basis about things that should not qualify. but o well. today i closed my bank account, which i opened almost as soon as i got here, and i was sad. but im trying to let it go. and then! tommorrow is graduation and graduate i shall. the end.
and speaking of chinese food, i want to know why there are chinese resturants that dont hand out chopsticks. i mean, i love! chopsticks! using them is the funnest thing, i think; it makes your food that much more of an adventure and thats important. but what is it about these places that dont give you chopsticks and then when you ask for some, because you are at a chinese restuarant and that is the thing that you do, they look at you funny--like why cant you just use the freaking fork like everyone else?. and sigh but get some for you. but the point is, why cant they do what they are supposed to do instead of trying to use forks like they are clearly not supposed to do? do they think we're going to make fun of them? but i mean, why would i go to a chinese resturant if it wasnt even chinese, you know?
resturant and halirious are two words i cant spell and i know i cant spell them but im alright with that. no one ever told me that came with the job desciption. and they are both too long to use in scrabble, really, so i dont even need to know about them for that. ha!
the other night my mother made me go to church, [heathen child that i am--morning church i attend religiously [haha.] and i really dislike missing morning chuch; it throws my schedule off, among other things. but i dont even feel that bad about skipping night church. i feel bad about not feeling bad about missing sunday night church.] but anyway, my mother made me go the other night, and we sang some hymns, and i remembered how much i like them and how much they can mean and do mean. [lately ive been surprised at the way things mean. its much more meaningful, for example, to hear a new version of mozart!-somethings than it is to hear a new version of, say, wind beneath my wings. there is some kind of power in old made new, i think. im not sure what it is that gives that meaning to things, but there is something. probably something so simple [and yet complex--[and o dear, im not going to think about the number of parenthesis in this paragraph]] as absolute truth, or something. its hard to say.] so anyway.
my mother made me go to church and we sang count your blessings. and it was great. i have been so consistently surprised at how simply the Lord provides lately. i quit my resurant job, even though i didnt have another. but then, i got one. in the middle, i had no money. but then, just in time, i had enough from the new job to pay the bills. huh. amazing. and i dont know why i dont think that He cant take care of me, when, um, clearly, he can. and he will. even though i have no earthly idea what im doing. at all.
except for i know that tonight, i am eating cookie mush in my room, watching a movie that i want to watch. in my pajamas. and i will be happy.
ive been reading this book lately, and she has some marvelous things to say. some also some things that dont actually make sense, but that doesnt even matter so much because its so great. like: "here are the two best prayers i know: 'help me, help me, help me.' and 'thank you, thank you, thank you.'" and "the road to enlightenment--and inspiration and love and holiness--is long and difficult, and you should try not to forget the snacks and magazines.
so the question is, of course, how to trust in God. everyone says to, of course, and its probably a good thing to do. i have no idea, i just know that i need to do it, because, like i said, i have no idea whats going on in my life. so i think i decided that trust came down to not worrying. that can be hard, because i needed a job like yesterday, but i want the ones that i would love instead of one that i just dont mind, you know. but! it is safe to trust God (this has stuck in my head so much!) and that is so good to know. hum.
and also, the other day, when i was worrying about it--it being where i will work, and more specifically if i should hold out for the job i really want, or if i should take the one more presently available--, i saw this verse and it said "the Lord establishes the work of our hands (Ps. 90.17)." and i said duh.
but also, i dont quite know the difference between settling and being content. i need to find that out.
and speaking of magazines, ive had this pile of accumulating magazines sitting around for forever because 1) i love magazines! they are so great, and quick and you can just read them all the time, even if you dont have the emotional ability or time or whatever to read a novel [or other real book], you can read a magazine instead! its so cool! so im so addicted to this stuff, and ive been saving these magazines for so long because i like to look at them, but then ive been trying to simplify my life, [ever so slowly!] and i decided i needed to get rid of them. but i still wanted the stuff in them, so i decided to go through them all and pull out all the things that are pretty or inspiring or that i just need to know or remember and im pasting them in a big notebook (actually, im taping them, but pasting sounds like so much more fun and its funner to say, too). and then i can look at them whenever i want, but just the pretty parts of them (without the ads!) and really. i can not even explain to you how happy this book is. and then i threw away the whole stack of the magazines and its okay, cause i have all the best parts all for me. and i was sad to rip them up, but it makes such a beautiful book. and that is how things are, i think.
currently reading: anne lamott // traveling mercies: thoughts on faith
Posted 12/15/2006 4:27 PM
how ridiculously appropriate. tommorrow i shall graduate from college, and, while it is less of a big deal than I thought, it still is something, i think. i am glad, after all, that i get to graduate in december. it is less of big deal that way, and even though i caused 1000 people's schedules to be moved around because of me [no really, its true. and i feel a bit like helen of troy] its still only a moderately big deal, and i approve of that. i have come to unappreciate big deals more and more. even though i probably make them on a daily basis about things that should not qualify. but o well. today i closed my bank account, which i opened almost as soon as i got here, and i was sad. but im trying to let it go. and then! tommorrow is graduation and graduate i shall. the end.
and speaking of chinese food, i want to know why there are chinese resturants that dont hand out chopsticks. i mean, i love! chopsticks! using them is the funnest thing, i think; it makes your food that much more of an adventure and thats important. but what is it about these places that dont give you chopsticks and then when you ask for some, because you are at a chinese restuarant and that is the thing that you do, they look at you funny--like why cant you just use the freaking fork like everyone else?. and sigh but get some for you. but the point is, why cant they do what they are supposed to do instead of trying to use forks like they are clearly not supposed to do? do they think we're going to make fun of them? but i mean, why would i go to a chinese resturant if it wasnt even chinese, you know?
resturant and halirious are two words i cant spell and i know i cant spell them but im alright with that. no one ever told me that came with the job desciption. and they are both too long to use in scrabble, really, so i dont even need to know about them for that. ha!
the other night my mother made me go to church, [heathen child that i am--morning church i attend religiously [haha.] and i really dislike missing morning chuch; it throws my schedule off, among other things. but i dont even feel that bad about skipping night church. i feel bad about not feeling bad about missing sunday night church.] but anyway, my mother made me go the other night, and we sang some hymns, and i remembered how much i like them and how much they can mean and do mean. [lately ive been surprised at the way things mean. its much more meaningful, for example, to hear a new version of mozart!-somethings than it is to hear a new version of, say, wind beneath my wings. there is some kind of power in old made new, i think. im not sure what it is that gives that meaning to things, but there is something. probably something so simple [and yet complex--[and o dear, im not going to think about the number of parenthesis in this paragraph]] as absolute truth, or something. its hard to say.] so anyway.
my mother made me go to church and we sang count your blessings. and it was great. i have been so consistently surprised at how simply the Lord provides lately. i quit my resurant job, even though i didnt have another. but then, i got one. in the middle, i had no money. but then, just in time, i had enough from the new job to pay the bills. huh. amazing. and i dont know why i dont think that He cant take care of me, when, um, clearly, he can. and he will. even though i have no earthly idea what im doing. at all.
except for i know that tonight, i am eating cookie mush in my room, watching a movie that i want to watch. in my pajamas. and i will be happy.
ive been reading this book lately, and she has some marvelous things to say. some also some things that dont actually make sense, but that doesnt even matter so much because its so great. like: "here are the two best prayers i know: 'help me, help me, help me.' and 'thank you, thank you, thank you.'" and "the road to enlightenment--and inspiration and love and holiness--is long and difficult, and you should try not to forget the snacks and magazines.
so the question is, of course, how to trust in God. everyone says to, of course, and its probably a good thing to do. i have no idea, i just know that i need to do it, because, like i said, i have no idea whats going on in my life. so i think i decided that trust came down to not worrying. that can be hard, because i needed a job like yesterday, but i want the ones that i would love instead of one that i just dont mind, you know. but! it is safe to trust God (this has stuck in my head so much!) and that is so good to know. hum.
and also, the other day, when i was worrying about it--it being where i will work, and more specifically if i should hold out for the job i really want, or if i should take the one more presently available--, i saw this verse and it said "the Lord establishes the work of our hands (Ps. 90.17)." and i said duh.
but also, i dont quite know the difference between settling and being content. i need to find that out.
and speaking of magazines, ive had this pile of accumulating magazines sitting around for forever because 1) i love magazines! they are so great, and quick and you can just read them all the time, even if you dont have the emotional ability or time or whatever to read a novel [or other real book], you can read a magazine instead! its so cool! so im so addicted to this stuff, and ive been saving these magazines for so long because i like to look at them, but then ive been trying to simplify my life, [ever so slowly!] and i decided i needed to get rid of them. but i still wanted the stuff in them, so i decided to go through them all and pull out all the things that are pretty or inspiring or that i just need to know or remember and im pasting them in a big notebook (actually, im taping them, but pasting sounds like so much more fun and its funner to say, too). and then i can look at them whenever i want, but just the pretty parts of them (without the ads!) and really. i can not even explain to you how happy this book is. and then i threw away the whole stack of the magazines and its okay, cause i have all the best parts all for me. and i was sad to rip them up, but it makes such a beautiful book. and that is how things are, i think.
currently reading: anne lamott // traveling mercies: thoughts on faith
Posted 12/15/2006 4:27 PM
mysteries at hand
[this post is brought to you by the ridiculous need for me to be doing homework (PR campaign!) instead of xanga.]
i wish you all could see the poor private page of this (blog). i have the [bad?]habit of starting posts and leaving them as private until i can get back around to finishing them and also leaving notes to myself on there for things i need to remember or do or write about, and so over the last month or two, i have about 17 [or more!]posts started and never finished. i have complied some of them here for you. most of them are not even complete sentences, but alas.
==========================================================
==========================================================
the mysteries by david kirby. [this is a poem that changed my life, almost.]
__________________________________________________________________________
[ there are mysteries at hand. and heres one:
why doesnt one ever count backwards in roman numerals? ]
X. : the internet. and also, nature.
[i dont know if it is possible to put two terribly different things such as these into one
heading and thereby classify them as mysterious and leave it at that. i think its a
ridiculously awkward paring, completly opposite. but who knows, maybe it will be
like
so today, i wanted to know more about rodedendrens, so i looked it up on google, and there were only 5 entries. 5! thats not even a lot, especially for google. and i think i spelled it right, and it offered no suggestions about a different spelling. so i was perplexed. and then i thought i might look on wikipedia, even though its not technically allowed in school [although, what they dont know wont hurt them] but its summer and google had failed me [yes, my world fell apart.] and wikipedia had no information about rodedendrens! so, not only has google failed me, but the masses have failed me too. o dear.
so tomorrow, i think i might stop by the used bookstore and see if there are any flower books that have rodedendrens in them. cause im pretty sure these flowers to, in fact, exist?
and anyway, i need a flower book.
IX.
so, the other week i bought some stamps, and it was terribly exciting.
VIII.
why on earth didnt julie andrews and dick van dyke get married?! i mean, have you watched mary poppins?! my goodness. terribly sexy.
VII.
also,
parking grauges
men at work playing matchmaker
birds
i miss things.
____________________________________________________
i know people have said it before, but what the heck is the point of turning on all the new xanga privacy protection stuff? isnt the point of xanga for people to read it? how the heck are they supposed to read things if, everytime they click on a page, a message comes up that will only allow you to read this site if 1) youre invited 2) you send them a message 3) you are a catholic and born between 1979-1983 or 4) you are exceptionally the hottest thing the person has ever seen based on your profile picture and/or income.
its getting a bit ridiculous.
also, i dont want people to think im stalking them. and if youre reading, i dont think youre stalking me, either. i think that if if im reading [of if other people are], im curious about you. i am interested by you, more than likely. i want to know you, or pretend i know you. it puts a damper on finding good xangas and getting to enjoy them as thoroughly i would wish to. geh.
______________________________________________
"Plough The Rain With Her
Here's an idea
Let's grab this life and wring its neck with joy
So that when it comes time to die
When we find we have no breath left
It is because we willingly strangled ourselves
With love
Fell down dead
And mostly happy"
_______________________________________________________
doors make no promises, especially that one there, it goes outside.
a line of birds on a bridge, above the river and under the gaze of God.
_______________________________________________________
::: wishlisting :::
writing, believe in the gospel, get a job!!!, and a computer, polite. charm. clever.
_______________________________________________________
love?
________________________________________________________________________________________
there are a lot of things that i really have no concept about.
there are a lot of things that i would like to have a concept about.
i really have no idea how to go about getting concepts about things.
currently playing: relient k// two lefts dont make a right, but three do
among other things.
________________________________________________
must haves:
fresh apples, graph paper, extra fine point permanent markers, file folders, typewriters, oatmeal cream pies, borrowed books, dark chocolate m&ms, phase 10, poetry magazine, magazines in general, hand-written thank you notes, real friends, new vocab words, extra set of keys, good music[!]
_________________________________________________
i need a new job! that pays money.
i am looking.
any ideas?
_________________________________________________
"this was back in the dark ages. like the eighties."
"if its not a husband and not a kid, i can change it."
"i loved the whole story. the characters, the plot; not to mention the fact that you get to take drugs and
blow people up."
"the real world being what it is...."
"in a word or less, describe the state of the political climate at this time."
"no, i think its good that you want people to be happy about airplanes."
"here is a pick-up line that will work for men, guarenteed:
'hi, my name is {marvin}, and my two favorite things are commitment and changing myself."
_________________________________________________
odd highway numbers--north/south
even highway numbers-- east/west
_________________________________________________
things are not like i expected. !
i go back and forth between being so content and good, and absolutely discontent and wishing for something else.
i am trying to be content.
well, i am learning about being content.
actually, i am thinking learning about being content.
things are not like i expcted, but not bad, mostly.
Posted 11/11/2006 11:07 AM
i wish you all could see the poor private page of this (blog). i have the [bad?]habit of starting posts and leaving them as private until i can get back around to finishing them and also leaving notes to myself on there for things i need to remember or do or write about, and so over the last month or two, i have about 17 [or more!]posts started and never finished. i have complied some of them here for you. most of them are not even complete sentences, but alas.
==========================================================
==========================================================
the mysteries by david kirby. [this is a poem that changed my life, almost.]
__________________________________________________________________________
[ there are mysteries at hand. and heres one:
why doesnt one ever count backwards in roman numerals? ]
X. : the internet. and also, nature.
[i dont know if it is possible to put two terribly different things such as these into one
heading and thereby classify them as mysterious and leave it at that. i think its a
ridiculously awkward paring, completly opposite. but who knows, maybe it will be
like
so today, i wanted to know more about rodedendrens, so i looked it up on google, and there were only 5 entries. 5! thats not even a lot, especially for google. and i think i spelled it right, and it offered no suggestions about a different spelling. so i was perplexed. and then i thought i might look on wikipedia, even though its not technically allowed in school [although, what they dont know wont hurt them] but its summer and google had failed me [yes, my world fell apart.] and wikipedia had no information about rodedendrens! so, not only has google failed me, but the masses have failed me too. o dear.
so tomorrow, i think i might stop by the used bookstore and see if there are any flower books that have rodedendrens in them. cause im pretty sure these flowers to, in fact, exist?
and anyway, i need a flower book.
IX.
so, the other week i bought some stamps, and it was terribly exciting.
VIII.
why on earth didnt julie andrews and dick van dyke get married?! i mean, have you watched mary poppins?! my goodness. terribly sexy.
VII.
also,
parking grauges
men at work playing matchmaker
birds
i miss things.
____________________________________________________
i know people have said it before, but what the heck is the point of turning on all the new xanga privacy protection stuff? isnt the point of xanga for people to read it? how the heck are they supposed to read things if, everytime they click on a page, a message comes up that will only allow you to read this site if 1) youre invited 2) you send them a message 3) you are a catholic and born between 1979-1983 or 4) you are exceptionally the hottest thing the person has ever seen based on your profile picture and/or income.
its getting a bit ridiculous.
also, i dont want people to think im stalking them. and if youre reading, i dont think youre stalking me, either. i think that if if im reading [of if other people are], im curious about you. i am interested by you, more than likely. i want to know you, or pretend i know you. it puts a damper on finding good xangas and getting to enjoy them as thoroughly i would wish to. geh.
______________________________________________
"Plough The Rain With Her
Here's an idea
Let's grab this life and wring its neck with joy
So that when it comes time to die
When we find we have no breath left
It is because we willingly strangled ourselves
With love
Fell down dead
And mostly happy"
_______________________________________________________
doors make no promises, especially that one there, it goes outside.
a line of birds on a bridge, above the river and under the gaze of God.
_______________________________________________________
::: wishlisting :::
writing, believe in the gospel, get a job!!!, and a computer, polite. charm. clever.
_______________________________________________________
love?
________________________________________________________________________________________
there are a lot of things that i really have no concept about.
there are a lot of things that i would like to have a concept about.
i really have no idea how to go about getting concepts about things.
currently playing: relient k// two lefts dont make a right, but three do
among other things.
________________________________________________
must haves:
fresh apples, graph paper, extra fine point permanent markers, file folders, typewriters, oatmeal cream pies, borrowed books, dark chocolate m&ms, phase 10, poetry magazine, magazines in general, hand-written thank you notes, real friends, new vocab words, extra set of keys, good music[!]
_________________________________________________
i need a new job! that pays money.
i am looking.
any ideas?
_________________________________________________
"this was back in the dark ages. like the eighties."
"if its not a husband and not a kid, i can change it."
"i loved the whole story. the characters, the plot; not to mention the fact that you get to take drugs and
blow people up."
"the real world being what it is...."
"in a word or less, describe the state of the political climate at this time."
"no, i think its good that you want people to be happy about airplanes."
"here is a pick-up line that will work for men, guarenteed:
'hi, my name is {marvin}, and my two favorite things are commitment and changing myself."
_________________________________________________
odd highway numbers--north/south
even highway numbers-- east/west
_________________________________________________
things are not like i expected. !
i go back and forth between being so content and good, and absolutely discontent and wishing for something else.
i am trying to be content.
well, i am learning about being content.
actually, i am thinking learning about being content.
things are not like i expcted, but not bad, mostly.
Posted 11/11/2006 11:07 AM
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
everyone knows:
everyone knows
that a good poem is about the images.
and a good reading is dependent on the selection.
and a memorable wedding about the details.
and a good drive, or a bad dance, is about the music.
and a non-repulsive christianity is about the grace.
and that a room can be saved by the pillows or fresh paint.
and stars are prettier with wishes.
and friends are better with conversation.
and jeans can be salvaged by an awesome belt.
and a bad dessert, if those exist, may be rescued by chocolate, which to my knowledge, is virtually unmessupable.
and ugly feet are hidden by great shoes.
and wrinkles removed by downy wrinkle releaser, which is the best stuff.
but what about everything else?something about scotch tape and fishing line comes to mind, but im not really sure about that. neither is my fish. well, hes not really my fish, but i feed him and he likes me.if someone fed me, i would like them too.come to think of it, my copy of one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish seems to be missing. its mostly my favorite of dr. seuss, i think. although its a close race. i should write more, somehow, maybe? bleh.some things need to be full. like stomachs and gas tanks and cookie jars. and life. i dont think scotch tape can help with that, either. there are some things i dont know. but also, if i knew, it would be scary. question: should you learn from the mistakes of others, or make your own nice little pile to learn from? and also: what is a full life dependent on? and how do you get those things? i should get my own fish. i would keep him alive. and altogether we would wish. a wishing party!
so, if you wish to wish a wish, you may swish for fishwith my ish wish dish.from there to herefrom here to therefunny things are everywhere.
and that is all for today.
Posted 9/13/2006 6:17 PM
that a good poem is about the images.
and a good reading is dependent on the selection.
and a memorable wedding about the details.
and a good drive, or a bad dance, is about the music.
and a non-repulsive christianity is about the grace.
and that a room can be saved by the pillows or fresh paint.
and stars are prettier with wishes.
and friends are better with conversation.
and jeans can be salvaged by an awesome belt.
and a bad dessert, if those exist, may be rescued by chocolate, which to my knowledge, is virtually unmessupable.
and ugly feet are hidden by great shoes.
and wrinkles removed by downy wrinkle releaser, which is the best stuff.
but what about everything else?something about scotch tape and fishing line comes to mind, but im not really sure about that. neither is my fish. well, hes not really my fish, but i feed him and he likes me.if someone fed me, i would like them too.come to think of it, my copy of one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish seems to be missing. its mostly my favorite of dr. seuss, i think. although its a close race. i should write more, somehow, maybe? bleh.some things need to be full. like stomachs and gas tanks and cookie jars. and life. i dont think scotch tape can help with that, either. there are some things i dont know. but also, if i knew, it would be scary. question: should you learn from the mistakes of others, or make your own nice little pile to learn from? and also: what is a full life dependent on? and how do you get those things? i should get my own fish. i would keep him alive. and altogether we would wish. a wishing party!
so, if you wish to wish a wish, you may swish for fishwith my ish wish dish.from there to herefrom here to therefunny things are everywhere.
and that is all for today.
Posted 9/13/2006 6:17 PM
Friday, November 16, 2007
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
Monday, October 22, 2007
sugar and toast, justice and grace
i confess because i am embarrassed and sad: i did not do the global commute last night.
i went to see JB instead [which was reallyreally lovely, and i learned things and was inspired]. but in my head, i was walking for them. i was. and that doesnt do a lot, i realize. but i am still learning how to care, so be patient with me next time, i will walk. and in the meantime, i will make myself look, to remember.
you know, its funny coming from a southern baptist background, and then leaving it when i was a sophomore in highschool. i learned some things, and there is a world outside of the convention. but then for college, i came back to it. bleh. and i remembered that i am glad i left it. and then i had ethics, and the principles of that class mostly changed how i think about things, and i am glad. except for i cant reconcile them. i cant make taking care of "the least of these" reconcile with my good republican, baptist belief that welfare is hardly ever the solution and that those people have to get jobs and such, because that is the way to help them. i cant make things make sense like that. the one person i asked at home lectured me about the social gospel something or other, which is not what i meant at all. i just want to know if there is, in fact, a way to love the least of these in the way that we ought and have a strong economy and maintain the strength of the Gospel.
hmmm, in other news: im still very busy. on friday i got an email that said "hey, how about that thesis?" and i said uh-oh. just like my parents told me i would. but i thought it would be okay since i wrote like 20 pages of it already [during break!] but, alas, it will not be okay. because i am a perfectionist and i do not have time. poems it is, then. --dont get me wrong, not poems because they are easier, because they are not. poems are always harder than prose. and they may be harder, but at least they are shorter. and at this point, i would rather race the 5 year old up the street running full speed than jog/walk a marathon.
i am irritated that some decisions just come down to getting married or not. i was talking to my mother the other day about grad school, and we came to the conclusion that if i married someone [rich] then i could go get my masters in creative writing, because that is the most impractical thing probably ever. and if i didnt get married [to someone rich] then i probably should get a masters in library science so i could get a job. and while we were not exactly serious about the rich part, it would make the decision easier, i think.
[my mother is funny. and i was glad for my parents this week.]
[dont get me wrong: i want to get married and i want 8 kids and everything] but im in no hurry. i think there are things to do first.? like homework. and other stuff. now, if the boy would sit with me and remind me that i should be doing homework, that would be something.
someone told me this week that i should maybe consider settling, because no one ever likes you as much as you want. i disagree. at least, i hope i disagree.
and none of this is set in stone, mind you. tomorrow, it will probably be completely different in my head. i almost decided not to write this stuff down, because gah! one just doesnt talk about marriage--its messy and because its bound to just make more messes and make people [myself included] worry about things that we shouldnt worry about because there are better things to worry about--not more important things, just, at this moment, better. but i think its the "almost-graduating-and-not-almost-married" syndrome that is effecting even me. and i swore it wouldnt. bother. but o well, here it is. [and apparently, its normal anyway?] i decided that since my mind can be changed, theres less harm in writing down todays opinions.
but here is my new irrational fear from this past week: i really dont want to marry someone who is perfect. or even someone who is almost perfect. and i know that technically i dont have to worry about that, because no one is, but there are people who think they are almost perfect. and i just cant keep up with that. so i say no. and im allowed to do that. hurrah.
bleh! enough of that, at least for now.
oh. poetry. i never thought in a million years that i would be writing it.
i like peas.
i dont like centeredness. [self or otherwise]
i do like thick skin and consistency and people who can carry on conversations and the people who you can get a hold of when you need them.
im forgetting how to write academically, and i think thats almost a problem. but also, im okay with it as long as i dont fail something.
and isnt it weird that sometimes, even when people are the exact same age as you, you feel way younger, and sometimes, even when they are older or younger, you feel the exact same age as them.
the song moon river is probably one of the only things in the world that just makes me want to write when i hear it.
p.s. if anyone wants to read any poems this week, i will let you. and you can tell me exactly what you think about them, and you can be perfectly honest and i wont even cry. i will probably give you a cookie.
isnt it something how we hurt each other when we dont even mean to? and then sometimes, someone does something that helps tremendously, but they dont even know it.
my car broke, but it was fixed for only 10 dollars. happy sigh.
the thing im excited most about this summer is getting to read again. i forget how much i really just love to read. but the first thing im doing when i get home besides sleeping is watching sound of music. and thats that.
once, when i was eleven or so, i thought i grasped the concept of God outside time. just for a moment. i remember it really clearly. i was talking with my best friend about it and i just stopped because i was thinking so hard about it and i almost understood. and then, after a just half a moment, it was lost again and i was confused again.
last night, for just a moment, i almost understood again. not specifically God outside time, but other things--being real [that ever vague, ever lusted after term], choosing how to choose [to borrow the phrase], and what matters in life [priorities are not my strong suite].
and it only lasted a minute again, but still. its strange.
sometimes, you just want some toast, you know?
yesterday, i had the hiccupps and i took a teaspoon of sugar, and it worked.
also, this morning apparently the fire alarm went off, and i slept right through it. i have serious problems. people have always told me that if there ever were a fire and the alarms went off i would wake up, but it went off this morning [for who knows why, there was no fire.] and i definately slept through it. so, please. if you are ever in the same building/ room/ whatever with me and theres a fire, wake me up. pretty please?
currently playing: glycerine // bush
Posted 4/30/2006 3:41 PM
i went to see JB instead [which was reallyreally lovely, and i learned things and was inspired]. but in my head, i was walking for them. i was. and that doesnt do a lot, i realize. but i am still learning how to care, so be patient with me next time, i will walk. and in the meantime, i will make myself look, to remember.
you know, its funny coming from a southern baptist background, and then leaving it when i was a sophomore in highschool. i learned some things, and there is a world outside of the convention. but then for college, i came back to it. bleh. and i remembered that i am glad i left it. and then i had ethics, and the principles of that class mostly changed how i think about things, and i am glad. except for i cant reconcile them. i cant make taking care of "the least of these" reconcile with my good republican, baptist belief that welfare is hardly ever the solution and that those people have to get jobs and such, because that is the way to help them. i cant make things make sense like that. the one person i asked at home lectured me about the social gospel something or other, which is not what i meant at all. i just want to know if there is, in fact, a way to love the least of these in the way that we ought and have a strong economy and maintain the strength of the Gospel.
hmmm, in other news: im still very busy. on friday i got an email that said "hey, how about that thesis?" and i said uh-oh. just like my parents told me i would. but i thought it would be okay since i wrote like 20 pages of it already [during break!] but, alas, it will not be okay. because i am a perfectionist and i do not have time. poems it is, then. --dont get me wrong, not poems because they are easier, because they are not. poems are always harder than prose. and they may be harder, but at least they are shorter. and at this point, i would rather race the 5 year old up the street running full speed than jog/walk a marathon.
i am irritated that some decisions just come down to getting married or not. i was talking to my mother the other day about grad school, and we came to the conclusion that if i married someone [rich] then i could go get my masters in creative writing, because that is the most impractical thing probably ever. and if i didnt get married [to someone rich] then i probably should get a masters in library science so i could get a job. and while we were not exactly serious about the rich part, it would make the decision easier, i think.
[my mother is funny. and i was glad for my parents this week.]
[dont get me wrong: i want to get married and i want 8 kids and everything] but im in no hurry. i think there are things to do first.? like homework. and other stuff. now, if the boy would sit with me and remind me that i should be doing homework, that would be something.
someone told me this week that i should maybe consider settling, because no one ever likes you as much as you want. i disagree. at least, i hope i disagree.
and none of this is set in stone, mind you. tomorrow, it will probably be completely different in my head. i almost decided not to write this stuff down, because gah! one just doesnt talk about marriage--its messy and because its bound to just make more messes and make people [myself included] worry about things that we shouldnt worry about because there are better things to worry about--not more important things, just, at this moment, better. but i think its the "almost-graduating-and-not-almost-married" syndrome that is effecting even me. and i swore it wouldnt. bother. but o well, here it is. [and apparently, its normal anyway?] i decided that since my mind can be changed, theres less harm in writing down todays opinions.
but here is my new irrational fear from this past week: i really dont want to marry someone who is perfect. or even someone who is almost perfect. and i know that technically i dont have to worry about that, because no one is, but there are people who think they are almost perfect. and i just cant keep up with that. so i say no. and im allowed to do that. hurrah.
bleh! enough of that, at least for now.
oh. poetry. i never thought in a million years that i would be writing it.
i like peas.
i dont like centeredness. [self or otherwise]
i do like thick skin and consistency and people who can carry on conversations and the people who you can get a hold of when you need them.
im forgetting how to write academically, and i think thats almost a problem. but also, im okay with it as long as i dont fail something.
and isnt it weird that sometimes, even when people are the exact same age as you, you feel way younger, and sometimes, even when they are older or younger, you feel the exact same age as them.
the song moon river is probably one of the only things in the world that just makes me want to write when i hear it.
p.s. if anyone wants to read any poems this week, i will let you. and you can tell me exactly what you think about them, and you can be perfectly honest and i wont even cry. i will probably give you a cookie.
isnt it something how we hurt each other when we dont even mean to? and then sometimes, someone does something that helps tremendously, but they dont even know it.
my car broke, but it was fixed for only 10 dollars. happy sigh.
the thing im excited most about this summer is getting to read again. i forget how much i really just love to read. but the first thing im doing when i get home besides sleeping is watching sound of music. and thats that.
once, when i was eleven or so, i thought i grasped the concept of God outside time. just for a moment. i remember it really clearly. i was talking with my best friend about it and i just stopped because i was thinking so hard about it and i almost understood. and then, after a just half a moment, it was lost again and i was confused again.
last night, for just a moment, i almost understood again. not specifically God outside time, but other things--being real [that ever vague, ever lusted after term], choosing how to choose [to borrow the phrase], and what matters in life [priorities are not my strong suite].
and it only lasted a minute again, but still. its strange.
sometimes, you just want some toast, you know?
yesterday, i had the hiccupps and i took a teaspoon of sugar, and it worked.
also, this morning apparently the fire alarm went off, and i slept right through it. i have serious problems. people have always told me that if there ever were a fire and the alarms went off i would wake up, but it went off this morning [for who knows why, there was no fire.] and i definately slept through it. so, please. if you are ever in the same building/ room/ whatever with me and theres a fire, wake me up. pretty please?
currently playing: glycerine // bush
Posted 4/30/2006 3:41 PM
not exaggurating.
the past week[ish] [and i am not exaggurating]:
-- my greatgrandmother passed away
-- my parents and littlest sisters came to see me and we ate and stuff. it was good
and fun.
and i heard funny stories.
-- had about 47156 meetings
-- worked 25 hours.
-- slept for 25 hours [9 of those on a couch somewhere]
-- was in the DMS lab for 40+ hours
-- in class for 10 hours
-- skipped 3 classes [so i could be in the DMS lab]
-- made a Torch [mostly with her and him. they are pretty much my favorites.
and i feel kindof lost without them now.
times square dance forever]
also: it will be printed in two weeks, and you can all see it. its beautiful. and im
not kidding.
-- been to the printers. twice.
-- also, got lost on the way there.
-- argued with the DMS printer a lot of times.
-- learned how to use InDesign a lot better than i did before
-- edited my eyes out.
-- laughed a bunch.
-- co-wrote the best editorial [in Torch history.]
-- i think i took some showers?
-- i may have eaten. i know i did eat some grapes and reese's peanutbuttercup
eggs and cheeze-its one time. and a waffle once.
-- broken 6-7 peoples hearts probably.
-- spun around a million times in the DMS chairs.
-- watched the sun come up 3 times
-- listened to some really good music.
-- been really mad a few times.
-- watched a lady shuffle papers for an hour.
-- learned about copyright law. and acupuncture points.
-- thought about a lot of things
-- i have not understood some things, but people wont explain.
-- wrote a poem
-- was embarrassed at least 3 times
-- decided about graduation, etc.
-- went to klemata
-- answered emails
-- made and answered a million phone calls
-- lost my favorite pair of earrings, and then bought a new pair for a dollar and
then found the old ones.
-- gotten [the real kind of poked] about 326 times.
-- and also, i stubbed my toe, and got a scratch on my finger.
i forget what else. mostly i just ran around like crazy like a chicken. and now i am sleepy. but satisfied, i think. and alive. hum.
real thoughts later, i promise.
currently playing: fast car
Posted 4/23/2006 12:08 AM
-- my greatgrandmother passed away
-- my parents and littlest sisters came to see me and we ate and stuff. it was good
and fun.
and i heard funny stories.
-- had about 47156 meetings
-- worked 25 hours.
-- slept for 25 hours [9 of those on a couch somewhere]
-- was in the DMS lab for 40+ hours
-- in class for 10 hours
-- skipped 3 classes [so i could be in the DMS lab]
-- made a Torch [mostly with her and him. they are pretty much my favorites.
and i feel kindof lost without them now.
times square dance forever]
also: it will be printed in two weeks, and you can all see it. its beautiful. and im
not kidding.
-- been to the printers. twice.
-- also, got lost on the way there.
-- argued with the DMS printer a lot of times.
-- learned how to use InDesign a lot better than i did before
-- edited my eyes out.
-- laughed a bunch.
-- co-wrote the best editorial [in Torch history.]
-- i think i took some showers?
-- i may have eaten. i know i did eat some grapes and reese's peanutbuttercup
eggs and cheeze-its one time. and a waffle once.
-- broken 6-7 peoples hearts probably.
-- spun around a million times in the DMS chairs.
-- watched the sun come up 3 times
-- listened to some really good music.
-- been really mad a few times.
-- watched a lady shuffle papers for an hour.
-- learned about copyright law. and acupuncture points.
-- thought about a lot of things
-- i have not understood some things, but people wont explain.
-- wrote a poem
-- was embarrassed at least 3 times
-- decided about graduation, etc.
-- went to klemata
-- answered emails
-- made and answered a million phone calls
-- lost my favorite pair of earrings, and then bought a new pair for a dollar and
then found the old ones.
-- gotten [the real kind of poked] about 326 times.
-- and also, i stubbed my toe, and got a scratch on my finger.
i forget what else. mostly i just ran around like crazy like a chicken. and now i am sleepy. but satisfied, i think. and alive. hum.
real thoughts later, i promise.
currently playing: fast car
Posted 4/23/2006 12:08 AM
mmmmkay.
isnt it a nice feeling on the first afternoon of break? that i made it--i think[?] and then you do something lovely or really just anything that isnt what you are trying to escape from just to prove to yourself that you really did make it, and you remember that you did, and you are happy. now if i can just make it through the rest of everything, which i might not, i suppose. i would almost rather not, it would be rather tragically romantic, wouldnt it? but actually, its because then i have to do something after it, and heaven knows what that is. i suppose its kindof like on big fish, which i watched yesterday: it would be a little helpful to know how you die because then you would know that you could make it though everything else. but we dont have that luxury, so we just have to trust.
------------------------
here is a question about microwaves: if you want something to cook for 98 seconds, when you type that in, does it automatically make it into 1min38seconds? or does it understand 98 seconds? is this universal on all microwaves? i would try it on ours, but it seems to be in a rather perilous state, lately.
and also, if january is waffle time, march is granola bar time. the fudge-dipped chocolate chip kind. which totally defeats the point of the granola, but o well!
---------------------------
i am packing right now for spring break. tomorrow at eight in the morning, my family and i will leave for florida. since it is fiveishoclock in the morning right now, i will probably not go to sleep, and then sleep for nine hours in the car tomorrow. it will be fun.
i decided that one of the reasons i am not a good packer is because i allow for entirely too many possibilities, and also, i overestimate. for example, right now im thinking things like "sure, i can read 12 books, and write a thesis this week, no problem." and "probably all of this unexpected stuff will happen, so i should pack something to wear for every occassion, plus the regular stuff" but probably nothing will happen, and i will wear jeans and tshirts the whole time, and i sure as heck wont get 12 books read, maybe just one and a half or 4. but what can i do but bring them anyway? just in case? maybe,maybe,maybe.
-----------------------------------
speaking of books:
i cant decide if i should write in books or not. elisabeth elliot doesnt, and she carries some weight. she is why i currently dont, actually. but lots and lots of people, do. and lots and lots of people carry weight too. i like the idea of not marking up my books, so i get new things out of them every time i read them. but i also see the importance and necessity of writing everything down. so i dont know. i think my favored option at this moment in time is to write the notes on paper, and then stick them in the back of the book. best of both worlds, maybe?
if you write/publish just one book, but its really awful, does that make you an author?
and why is it that people insist on putting things like "the rhetoric and poetics of aristotle" or cicero or plato for their favorite books?! this could only mean 3 things: 1) they are so poorly read that they dont know anything better. and i know that those guys are terribly important in the world, and they probably changed the shape of world history and all of that, but really. there are some other really amazing things to read that dont cause you to fall asleep after the first 3 paragraphs. and why they picked those to read if they werent going to read anything else, i dont know. 2) so, if they have read everything else, and those really are their favorites: this means they are really boring.[!] or ought to be the president of MENSA or something. i dont know. probably both. and 3) they really dont like these books, and maybe they havent even made it through them yet, but they think people will think they are smart and cool if those are their "favorites." and thats just pathetic. and ridiculous. [note to self: write down thoughts about imperfection very soon. this is important.]
or maybe they really like them? its always a possibility, however vague, i guess. hrm.
---------------------------
also, i want to know about ideas: are they person-specific? like if thomas jefferson didnt manage to invent the lightbulb for whatever reason, would someone else have done it eventually, because we were destined to have lightbulbs around? or would we just never have had them, and they would have altered the course of history, or whatnot.
and if adam and eve had never sinned, would someone else have instead?
i was thinking about ernest hemingway the other day, and hes very sexy of course, but how awful it would be to be the "lost generation." awful in the big romantic way, you know. they were totally encompassed by 2 huge wars, and a nearly international depression [i think?] and stuff, and then they set themselves in paris, where the town itself and the culture and history is nearly overpowering,especially back then. and then all of your accomplishments and friends and thoughts and possessions would just be gone. like all of ours will be, but they get the title. and ours is more individual. theirs was a whole generation, and therefore more tragic. [which im sure is a wrong mindset for me to have. if hitler only killed one jew, it would still be tragical. well, im not sure. hrm. 6 million-plus might be even more tragical. hard to say.] so perhaps thats why they wrote--to remember. there is a lot to remember. and a lot to know, and see and learn and appreciate and love.
and heres something else: i realize that everyone is special, and made in the image of God, and we have intrinsic worth and all of that. so: why, then, can some people turn albert einstein and mother teresa and others like them, and some people turn into hitler or child molestors or something? and how come the rest of us are just normal, average people? is it circumstances, or training, or just whats inside of you? and how come some people are interesting, and some people you want to be bestest friends with, and some people you just dont? why are some people boring? i mean, at least theoritically, everyone should be interesting, at least a little. so i dont know.
but it is nice to be reminded about why we need each other.
and isnt it wonderful how we take things from each other: an idea from a presentation, a joke from an aquaintence, a laugh from someone down the hall, a book, the music in the background, a conversation with a friend, a prayer at a meal, a hug. and we take these things, and just let them be a part of us and its ours--like little presents for us everyday--and then it just joins into us and becomes part of who we are and we are bigger and better or maybe even worse for it. its so cool.
--------------------------
ive been listening to this:
moon river, wider than a mile, im crossing you in style
someday. o dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going, im going your way. two
drifters off to see the world.
theres such a lot of world to see.
we're after the same rainbows end, waitin' 'round the
bend. my huckleberry friend, moon river and me.
mmm. what more is there to say? [until tomorrow, or something]
Posted 3/20/2006 5:36 AM
------------------------
here is a question about microwaves: if you want something to cook for 98 seconds, when you type that in, does it automatically make it into 1min38seconds? or does it understand 98 seconds? is this universal on all microwaves? i would try it on ours, but it seems to be in a rather perilous state, lately.
and also, if january is waffle time, march is granola bar time. the fudge-dipped chocolate chip kind. which totally defeats the point of the granola, but o well!
---------------------------
i am packing right now for spring break. tomorrow at eight in the morning, my family and i will leave for florida. since it is fiveishoclock in the morning right now, i will probably not go to sleep, and then sleep for nine hours in the car tomorrow. it will be fun.
i decided that one of the reasons i am not a good packer is because i allow for entirely too many possibilities, and also, i overestimate. for example, right now im thinking things like "sure, i can read 12 books, and write a thesis this week, no problem." and "probably all of this unexpected stuff will happen, so i should pack something to wear for every occassion, plus the regular stuff" but probably nothing will happen, and i will wear jeans and tshirts the whole time, and i sure as heck wont get 12 books read, maybe just one and a half or 4. but what can i do but bring them anyway? just in case? maybe,maybe,maybe.
-----------------------------------
speaking of books:
i cant decide if i should write in books or not. elisabeth elliot doesnt, and she carries some weight. she is why i currently dont, actually. but lots and lots of people, do. and lots and lots of people carry weight too. i like the idea of not marking up my books, so i get new things out of them every time i read them. but i also see the importance and necessity of writing everything down. so i dont know. i think my favored option at this moment in time is to write the notes on paper, and then stick them in the back of the book. best of both worlds, maybe?
if you write/publish just one book, but its really awful, does that make you an author?
and why is it that people insist on putting things like "the rhetoric and poetics of aristotle" or cicero or plato for their favorite books?! this could only mean 3 things: 1) they are so poorly read that they dont know anything better. and i know that those guys are terribly important in the world, and they probably changed the shape of world history and all of that, but really. there are some other really amazing things to read that dont cause you to fall asleep after the first 3 paragraphs. and why they picked those to read if they werent going to read anything else, i dont know. 2) so, if they have read everything else, and those really are their favorites: this means they are really boring.[!] or ought to be the president of MENSA or something. i dont know. probably both. and 3) they really dont like these books, and maybe they havent even made it through them yet, but they think people will think they are smart and cool if those are their "favorites." and thats just pathetic. and ridiculous. [note to self: write down thoughts about imperfection very soon. this is important.]
or maybe they really like them? its always a possibility, however vague, i guess. hrm.
---------------------------
also, i want to know about ideas: are they person-specific? like if thomas jefferson didnt manage to invent the lightbulb for whatever reason, would someone else have done it eventually, because we were destined to have lightbulbs around? or would we just never have had them, and they would have altered the course of history, or whatnot.
and if adam and eve had never sinned, would someone else have instead?
i was thinking about ernest hemingway the other day, and hes very sexy of course, but how awful it would be to be the "lost generation." awful in the big romantic way, you know. they were totally encompassed by 2 huge wars, and a nearly international depression [i think?] and stuff, and then they set themselves in paris, where the town itself and the culture and history is nearly overpowering,especially back then. and then all of your accomplishments and friends and thoughts and possessions would just be gone. like all of ours will be, but they get the title. and ours is more individual. theirs was a whole generation, and therefore more tragic. [which im sure is a wrong mindset for me to have. if hitler only killed one jew, it would still be tragical. well, im not sure. hrm. 6 million-plus might be even more tragical. hard to say.] so perhaps thats why they wrote--to remember. there is a lot to remember. and a lot to know, and see and learn and appreciate and love.
and heres something else: i realize that everyone is special, and made in the image of God, and we have intrinsic worth and all of that. so: why, then, can some people turn albert einstein and mother teresa and others like them, and some people turn into hitler or child molestors or something? and how come the rest of us are just normal, average people? is it circumstances, or training, or just whats inside of you? and how come some people are interesting, and some people you want to be bestest friends with, and some people you just dont? why are some people boring? i mean, at least theoritically, everyone should be interesting, at least a little. so i dont know.
but it is nice to be reminded about why we need each other.
and isnt it wonderful how we take things from each other: an idea from a presentation, a joke from an aquaintence, a laugh from someone down the hall, a book, the music in the background, a conversation with a friend, a prayer at a meal, a hug. and we take these things, and just let them be a part of us and its ours--like little presents for us everyday--and then it just joins into us and becomes part of who we are and we are bigger and better or maybe even worse for it. its so cool.
--------------------------
ive been listening to this:
moon river, wider than a mile, im crossing you in style
someday. o dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going, im going your way. two
drifters off to see the world.
theres such a lot of world to see.
we're after the same rainbows end, waitin' 'round the
bend. my huckleberry friend, moon river and me.
mmm. what more is there to say? [until tomorrow, or something]
Posted 3/20/2006 5:36 AM
[some notes:]
so suddenly this past weekend, i think i got cooler. not that im exceptionally cool or anything, [this weekend will probably prove that, geh.] cause i pretty much know better, and im totally alright with that. but i definitely got cooler this weekend. i nevereverever was able to roll up sleeping bags for my whole life. i mean, after slumber parties and such, when everyone else was rolling their sleeping bags and stuff, i just had to fold mine, and then let mumma or daddy roll it later. but all the other girls totally could roll theirs, and some of them could even do a good job. but this weekend, i was all over rolling the sleeping bags. i was awesome at it! and i totally even was able to put 3 of them back intto those stupid clingly plastic bag things that you can never get anything back into, you know those things i mean? i mean the ones where the zippers always break. yeah, i got those sleeping bags back into those things. it was amazing.
needless to say, i was queen of the sleepingbags this weekend, despite the fact that i did not sleep in one, and despite the fact that im not even sure i own one anymore. [does that seem like a problem to anyone else? i dont know, it just seems like one of those things that one ought to own, even though you dont use it that much. its one more of those things that you should just always have around, like the jar of mayo or grape jelly in the fridge. it really messes a person up when one goes to make a sandwhich and that stuff is gone. i mean, really, when is anyone ever really out of mayo? its insanely hard to be out of that stuff [like vaseline too.] and so, when you are, its weird.]
so also, i think i need to stop using transitional words. that would be good, apparently. no more "so alsos" and stuff. i just need to say it, dangit.
and also, if that wishy-washy stuff could stop too, that'd be great. yeah, there should be less of that.
isnt it crazy about what you can find out? i mean, theres stuff to know about nearly everything, i think and thats a whole lot of stuff. today, something was cancelled and i got an extra hour and so i was perfectly frivilous and i sat in the library with my roommate and for 20 minutes i skimmed a whole book about mary, queen of scots ["oh, the very name just thrills me to my fingertips!"] and i was just impressed again with all the things that i dont know in the world. and then, after that i was skimming book titles while i was looking for something to read, and there was this whole set of books about jacksonian democracy. think of that! who even cares about that? it rather gives me hope as a writer, because if someone could write 5 books about jeffersonian democracy and have them published and put into libraries, then surely i could bust something decent out.
also, if you write just one book, but it sucks a lot, does that make you a real author still?
its very crazy that there is 6000 or something [depending on what you think about such things] of experience that i dont quite know about.
there is an order to things:
first, pluck up & break down
next, destroy & overthrow
then, building & planting.
lots is going on, and thats good. im working on getting out of the "im soo busy" mindset, cause im pretty sure thats not productive. fortunately for me, my second toe is longer than my first toe, and while this fact made it somewhat difficult to dance en pointe, my athletic training friend told me that studies have shown that even though im running around like a chicken and stuff, i will still get everything done and make a difference in the world, or something or other. and thats because of my toes. so, um, yeah. thats good news, i guess.
and also, isnt it good news that we have ourselves? i mean, yesterday in class we were talking about everyone's need to not be bored. and this is very nifty because we are stuck with ourselves all the time, and that means that pretty much all the time we can learn things and laugh at ourselves and be annoyed and grow and change and have fun and do all kinds of things. its pretty handy, i think, because sometimes no one else is around. this is where its good to not mind talking to yourself, or singing without a radio and stuff. it makes it easier sometimes.
woman without her man would be miserable.
[this goes two ways. or maybe like four ways, if you go backwards too, i think. mmmm, punctuation]
arent cell phones the weirdest thing ever? i mean, who thought of carrying a phone around all the time so you can either 1) always be bothered because people always call you in the middle of everything or 2) be reminded all the time that no one calls you at all, ever, no matter what. its perplexing. i was just thinking of that. but anyway, isnt it funny how quickly we adapt to some things, and wonder how on earth people lived without stuff? well. they survived for a long time without a lot of stuff. --i lived for a long time without some stuff maybe i should give up technology [and stuff!] for a little while.
then it was fat tuesday [and i got real beads from new orleans, and thats almost the awesomest thing ever, but it would have been awesomer if i was there to get them in person] and ash wednesday. such a lovely time in the year--so rich and beautiful and symbolic. why dont we live like that?
dear glen-face, i will always love you for introducing me to weezer. spring is the time for such things. xo.
things are opportunities.
"everything to God in prayer." and also, remember my toes [wiggle,wiggle!].
on the way home i will get krispy kreme donuts. i will be happy.
"six weeks and the wide world is green again."
yes, zane, its exactly the turtles.
currently playing: the blue album [and stuck on that playlist is also buttercup, baby. ah, life is good.]
Posted 3/2/2006 11:13 PM
needless to say, i was queen of the sleepingbags this weekend, despite the fact that i did not sleep in one, and despite the fact that im not even sure i own one anymore. [does that seem like a problem to anyone else? i dont know, it just seems like one of those things that one ought to own, even though you dont use it that much. its one more of those things that you should just always have around, like the jar of mayo or grape jelly in the fridge. it really messes a person up when one goes to make a sandwhich and that stuff is gone. i mean, really, when is anyone ever really out of mayo? its insanely hard to be out of that stuff [like vaseline too.] and so, when you are, its weird.]
so also, i think i need to stop using transitional words. that would be good, apparently. no more "so alsos" and stuff. i just need to say it, dangit.
and also, if that wishy-washy stuff could stop too, that'd be great. yeah, there should be less of that.
isnt it crazy about what you can find out? i mean, theres stuff to know about nearly everything, i think and thats a whole lot of stuff. today, something was cancelled and i got an extra hour and so i was perfectly frivilous and i sat in the library with my roommate and for 20 minutes i skimmed a whole book about mary, queen of scots ["oh, the very name just thrills me to my fingertips!"] and i was just impressed again with all the things that i dont know in the world. and then, after that i was skimming book titles while i was looking for something to read, and there was this whole set of books about jacksonian democracy. think of that! who even cares about that? it rather gives me hope as a writer, because if someone could write 5 books about jeffersonian democracy and have them published and put into libraries, then surely i could bust something decent out.
also, if you write just one book, but it sucks a lot, does that make you a real author still?
its very crazy that there is 6000 or something [depending on what you think about such things] of experience that i dont quite know about.
there is an order to things:
first, pluck up & break down
next, destroy & overthrow
then, building & planting.
lots is going on, and thats good. im working on getting out of the "im soo busy" mindset, cause im pretty sure thats not productive. fortunately for me, my second toe is longer than my first toe, and while this fact made it somewhat difficult to dance en pointe, my athletic training friend told me that studies have shown that even though im running around like a chicken and stuff, i will still get everything done and make a difference in the world, or something or other. and thats because of my toes. so, um, yeah. thats good news, i guess.
and also, isnt it good news that we have ourselves? i mean, yesterday in class we were talking about everyone's need to not be bored. and this is very nifty because we are stuck with ourselves all the time, and that means that pretty much all the time we can learn things and laugh at ourselves and be annoyed and grow and change and have fun and do all kinds of things. its pretty handy, i think, because sometimes no one else is around. this is where its good to not mind talking to yourself, or singing without a radio and stuff. it makes it easier sometimes.
woman without her man would be miserable.
[this goes two ways. or maybe like four ways, if you go backwards too, i think. mmmm, punctuation]
arent cell phones the weirdest thing ever? i mean, who thought of carrying a phone around all the time so you can either 1) always be bothered because people always call you in the middle of everything or 2) be reminded all the time that no one calls you at all, ever, no matter what. its perplexing. i was just thinking of that. but anyway, isnt it funny how quickly we adapt to some things, and wonder how on earth people lived without stuff? well. they survived for a long time without a lot of stuff. --i lived for a long time without some stuff maybe i should give up technology [and stuff!] for a little while.
then it was fat tuesday [and i got real beads from new orleans, and thats almost the awesomest thing ever, but it would have been awesomer if i was there to get them in person] and ash wednesday. such a lovely time in the year--so rich and beautiful and symbolic. why dont we live like that?
dear glen-face, i will always love you for introducing me to weezer. spring is the time for such things. xo.
things are opportunities.
"everything to God in prayer." and also, remember my toes [wiggle,wiggle!].
on the way home i will get krispy kreme donuts. i will be happy.
"six weeks and the wide world is green again."
yes, zane, its exactly the turtles.
currently playing: the blue album [and stuck on that playlist is also buttercup, baby. ah, life is good.]
Posted 3/2/2006 11:13 PM
Freedom Summer
[important edit: i got my first reallyreal rejection letter in the mail today! and it said [in addition to the rejection part] "Thanks, Julie"!--handwritten even! and it was signed! wowiekazowie. !!!!! i am happy. okay. thats the end of that.]
[feel free to edit and such.]
Freedom Summer, 1964
[ for Coretta Scott King ]
Awaken in the morning and sing again, you that dwell in the dust;
sing of the train coming slowly and the opening of prisons.
A woman cries out from the pain of labor, then feeds the child at her breast.
Sing to each other of a banquet prepared, and vineyards of red wine,
the river Jordan, chariots and Jericho's walls, fields of white cotton.
While waiting for the noon bell, sing again, you that dwell in the dust.
She helps the master's wife dress for a ball in Atlanta; arrive in time
for them to dance all night, and waits until needed in the corner, forsaken.
She sits, and rests from her labor, and men take notice of her breasts.
Generations of the old songs echo through the cabin walls and forest pines.
Piles of threadbare suits need mending, sew the buttons
in the evenings, by the fire. In the night, sing again, you that dwell in the dust.
Somebody's son laid in the east field, dying,
now dead; others—while escaping—might be snared, caught and taken.
A mother labors in the fields, and fear settles deep into her breast.
Spring, with sweet flowers, and tall summer fields shall resign
themselves to autumn. Together, we will plant, and the ground will again be broken.
Wait for the coming train. Wait for the whistle to sing again, you that dwell in the dust.
Mothers and children have labored together; still, hope rises in their breasts.
Posted 2/21/2006 1:03 AM
[feel free to edit and such.]
Freedom Summer, 1964
[ for Coretta Scott King ]
Awaken in the morning and sing again, you that dwell in the dust;
sing of the train coming slowly and the opening of prisons.
A woman cries out from the pain of labor, then feeds the child at her breast.
Sing to each other of a banquet prepared, and vineyards of red wine,
the river Jordan, chariots and Jericho's walls, fields of white cotton.
While waiting for the noon bell, sing again, you that dwell in the dust.
She helps the master's wife dress for a ball in Atlanta; arrive in time
for them to dance all night, and waits until needed in the corner, forsaken.
She sits, and rests from her labor, and men take notice of her breasts.
Generations of the old songs echo through the cabin walls and forest pines.
Piles of threadbare suits need mending, sew the buttons
in the evenings, by the fire. In the night, sing again, you that dwell in the dust.
Somebody's son laid in the east field, dying,
now dead; others—while escaping—might be snared, caught and taken.
A mother labors in the fields, and fear settles deep into her breast.
Spring, with sweet flowers, and tall summer fields shall resign
themselves to autumn. Together, we will plant, and the ground will again be broken.
Wait for the coming train. Wait for the whistle to sing again, you that dwell in the dust.
Mothers and children have labored together; still, hope rises in their breasts.
Posted 2/21/2006 1:03 AM
my. oh. my.
my. oh. my.
im making myself do this. because it has to be done, because my brain is getting crowded. my choices were to give up and sleep, or give up and write, and somehow this seemed like the more immediate need. but i dont know how that happened, because sleep is always more immediate. but i can sleep when im dead or something and i wont be able to write then. not that ive been able to write lately anyway, but i dont know why.
i was soo hungry for chinese food on sunday, and i got some, and it was the best. it really was.
im not sure if this is embarrassing, but i am embarrassed by it regardless, so i dont know why im saying it, but here it is.
so, on two monday nights, the basement at my house flooded. a lot, but not all, but a lot, of my stuff was in the basement.
my stuff got flooded, probably.
i like stuff. and i am sad that it got flooded. and i cried, a little.
i am embarrassed for crying at all about it. it. is. just. stuff. [but my perfect, wonderful, lovely, sentimental stuff.] people have lost lots more stuff than that before. and things might not even be that ruined, we dont know yet quite. and i shouldnt waste my tears on things that dont matter. unfortunately, thats what happens when or if i cry. [im not a cry-er [crier?] you know.]
[but sometimes tears come, but we dont even know why. maybe thats good? or maybe they come for the wrong things. i hate crying. but maybe its more okay than i realize.]
i wrote a poem. and its almost the prettiest thing i ever wrote maybe, but its not. it needs lots and lots of help, but i dont even know what to do to it, and other people arent being helpful either, because things that they absolutely hate, other people love. so its a confusing business and i think im flipping out about it.[!] [and if you are even almost good at editing, i would love for you to tell me everything thats wrong with it, and everything. pleasepleaseplease?!?] also, im becoming less shy about using the exclamation mark and i wouldnt hardly ever use it just straight up, but now i feel okay about it.
and i love how a line i wrote [on here, even] like 7 months ago or something ended up in the poem. that sort of thing makes me happy.
and just in case people didnt know: i do, in fact, know how to write things for real too.
i think i sleep too much. and thats like the saddest thing ive ever written. and whats sadder is that i think i have to do something about it, because i just have too much to do. i mean, i was getting my resume looked at by career services, and one of the sweetest women in the world [maybe? its hard to say about those things, you cant just assign someone arbitrary values like that] looked at me and told me that i had a full plate. and i said yes ma'am. and there is more i want to do. so something has got to go. and also, i think ill stop tutoring, maybe, at least for school. but i need to stop being so indulgent with myself. and thats hard, because i like it. but im pretty sure that personal sacrifice and discipline is the way to get somewhere and stuff.
ive been thinking about Gods purposes lately. hm. what are they, exactly? not like his purpose in existing or something, but rather his purposes for us. and how are we supposed to hold fast to them? and i know the catachism answer, so tell me something new. if there is anything new. there might not be, i understand.
actually, i guess i want to know how.
i want to know how about a lot of things.
and i want to know why about a lot of things too.
i like dark chocolate!
i almost need a new notebook. like in 4 pages. i like it when this happens. except for about 19 pages of the new notebook i dont like it. but i do think it was smart of me to combine all my paper journals into one: the sermon notebook, and prayer and diary and poetry and ideas and random notes to self. it makes me happy and it cuts down on a lot of numbers of journals. and its more like life, you know? things shouldnt be so compartmentalized, because they really arent.
other things that make me happy include, but are not limited to:
snow, board games [which i think they should rename them bored games,
because sometimes you play them when you are bored and they are not always
on a board. either way, its like a little funny pun.], and scrabble, spoiling myself
[which just should happen sometimes, and thast just all there is to it. but maybe i
do it too much? most likely. but more on this later. but like on friday, i bought a cd, a
magazine, and some dark chocolate hershey kisses.[!] and that made me soso
happy.] and hotchocolate, and letter writing, and good stories, and friends, and
slumber parties, and good poem critiques and waffle house, and snuggling,
conversations and people [lots of them, but i was thinking tonight about have i
ever met or watched a person named george that i didnt like? i dont think so.
georges must be happy people. but oh, just people in general are fascinating!]
and songs/poems with julie in it are happyhappyhappy too. and sleeping late. and also, some other things, but i cant think of them just now.
also, i like summer smells. february is a good time to miss summer smells, and i do. like lemon and mowed grass and stuff. i will try to remedy that soon, like tomorrow maybe. tonight it smelled like summer rain, anyway. thats what reminded me.
"theres no chance or fortune beyond the moon." my.
i forget that things do not always have to be a beautiful, perfect, much. some things can be. but some things one can just let go. or delegate. or just not do. or wait till later. and it will be okay.
and also, Jesus did not say that martha was wrong for doing things because things must be done after all, but just that mary choose what was better, and what was lasting, and what is all we need. and that is a point, i think.
how hard it is to be uncontent and content at the same time, and i think that that is what is asked of us, maybe? to keep growing and working and perservering and trying eversohard but at the same time, just sit and enjoy and love and see beautiful things and breathe.
old things are good to remember sometimes.
"do the next thing. it does not matter
how it hurts as long as it
gives God the chance to
manifest himself in your mortal flesh."
oh, yeah.
we pick funny things for burdens.
i need to invest me into things more, but thats scary. and i feel like i do it so much already, but its still not exactly enough. thats weird. and honest is scary. trying again is scary. what to do next is scary. heck, even getting your hair cut is scary.
[random comment by whatsherface after a song from chapel on wednesday]
"sometimes, things become a different sort of beautiful than you expect, and sometimes that hurts. and theres an intimacy that comes in the sanctifying and in knowing that your Father is [still!] good.
theres a sweet resolution that comes in letting go."
things are not like i expected.
i love talking to people who make me think. and i am osovery thankful for when they remind me of things i need to hear, even if its on accident. and [real] friends are so...necessary. and good. good for the soul. just like hotfudge i approve of having them. all of them. hooray.
i also love learning how things work. i will be forever and ever grateful to him for showing me about howstuffworks.com. its my newest favoritest thing ever. because i have learned about things that i have always always wanted to know, and there are pictures and its soo cool. and theres a lot more i still have to learn from there. [i learned today that someone invented the dustpan. thats so weird. that should be one of those things that was just always around. and also, if someone else hadnt invented, say, the refridgerator or something, dont you think someone else would have eventually? or some ideas just strictly people specific?] and thats exciting too. oh, and i have decided that asking questions is a really good idea. i have asked some experts some things lately, and they have answers for you. so thats mostly my new thing: i have talked to phone professionals, and biology professors [if you want a good story, ill tell you this one] and this week, i will talk to ballet professionals. and they know things, and tell you all about it, and its soo cool. its my newest other favorite thing ever.
and heres a poem [by emily dickinson] and notes [by my professor in his journalbook. he just shared]:
There are two Ripenings--one--of sight--
Whose forces Spheric wind
Until the Velvet product
Drop spicy to the ground--
A homelier maturing--
A Process in the Bur--
That teeth of Frosts alone disclose
In far October Air.
NOTE: "bur"--a rough prickly core around the seed of
some plants. an earlier version was ordered into two quatrains;
"round" was rhymed with "ground"--Dickinson's revisions
moved toward slant rhmye rather than away from it.
The less showy ripening occurs inside the husk, inside ourselves
and will not be revealed until some distant time.
The exterior ripening is showier, more vulnerable,
occurs earlier, and is ended by a fall to the earth. The
second ripening is longer, occurs at home, is associated
with actual flavor (the fuit is bitten by the "teeth" of winter),
goes undisclosed until death. My.
My. indeed.
Posted 2/17/2006 3:02 AM
im making myself do this. because it has to be done, because my brain is getting crowded. my choices were to give up and sleep, or give up and write, and somehow this seemed like the more immediate need. but i dont know how that happened, because sleep is always more immediate. but i can sleep when im dead or something and i wont be able to write then. not that ive been able to write lately anyway, but i dont know why.
i was soo hungry for chinese food on sunday, and i got some, and it was the best. it really was.
im not sure if this is embarrassing, but i am embarrassed by it regardless, so i dont know why im saying it, but here it is.
so, on two monday nights, the basement at my house flooded. a lot, but not all, but a lot, of my stuff was in the basement.
my stuff got flooded, probably.
i like stuff. and i am sad that it got flooded. and i cried, a little.
i am embarrassed for crying at all about it. it. is. just. stuff. [but my perfect, wonderful, lovely, sentimental stuff.] people have lost lots more stuff than that before. and things might not even be that ruined, we dont know yet quite. and i shouldnt waste my tears on things that dont matter. unfortunately, thats what happens when or if i cry. [im not a cry-er [crier?] you know.]
[but sometimes tears come, but we dont even know why. maybe thats good? or maybe they come for the wrong things. i hate crying. but maybe its more okay than i realize.]
i wrote a poem. and its almost the prettiest thing i ever wrote maybe, but its not. it needs lots and lots of help, but i dont even know what to do to it, and other people arent being helpful either, because things that they absolutely hate, other people love. so its a confusing business and i think im flipping out about it.[!] [and if you are even almost good at editing, i would love for you to tell me everything thats wrong with it, and everything. pleasepleaseplease?!?] also, im becoming less shy about using the exclamation mark and i wouldnt hardly ever use it just straight up, but now i feel okay about it.
and i love how a line i wrote [on here, even] like 7 months ago or something ended up in the poem. that sort of thing makes me happy.
and just in case people didnt know: i do, in fact, know how to write things for real too.
i think i sleep too much. and thats like the saddest thing ive ever written. and whats sadder is that i think i have to do something about it, because i just have too much to do. i mean, i was getting my resume looked at by career services, and one of the sweetest women in the world [maybe? its hard to say about those things, you cant just assign someone arbitrary values like that] looked at me and told me that i had a full plate. and i said yes ma'am. and there is more i want to do. so something has got to go. and also, i think ill stop tutoring, maybe, at least for school. but i need to stop being so indulgent with myself. and thats hard, because i like it. but im pretty sure that personal sacrifice and discipline is the way to get somewhere and stuff.
ive been thinking about Gods purposes lately. hm. what are they, exactly? not like his purpose in existing or something, but rather his purposes for us. and how are we supposed to hold fast to them? and i know the catachism answer, so tell me something new. if there is anything new. there might not be, i understand.
actually, i guess i want to know how.
i want to know how about a lot of things.
and i want to know why about a lot of things too.
i like dark chocolate!
i almost need a new notebook. like in 4 pages. i like it when this happens. except for about 19 pages of the new notebook i dont like it. but i do think it was smart of me to combine all my paper journals into one: the sermon notebook, and prayer and diary and poetry and ideas and random notes to self. it makes me happy and it cuts down on a lot of numbers of journals. and its more like life, you know? things shouldnt be so compartmentalized, because they really arent.
other things that make me happy include, but are not limited to:
snow, board games [which i think they should rename them bored games,
because sometimes you play them when you are bored and they are not always
on a board. either way, its like a little funny pun.], and scrabble, spoiling myself
[which just should happen sometimes, and thast just all there is to it. but maybe i
do it too much? most likely. but more on this later. but like on friday, i bought a cd, a
magazine, and some dark chocolate hershey kisses.[!] and that made me soso
happy.] and hotchocolate, and letter writing, and good stories, and friends, and
slumber parties, and good poem critiques and waffle house, and snuggling,
conversations and people [lots of them, but i was thinking tonight about have i
ever met or watched a person named george that i didnt like? i dont think so.
georges must be happy people. but oh, just people in general are fascinating!]
and songs/poems with julie in it are happyhappyhappy too. and sleeping late. and also, some other things, but i cant think of them just now.
also, i like summer smells. february is a good time to miss summer smells, and i do. like lemon and mowed grass and stuff. i will try to remedy that soon, like tomorrow maybe. tonight it smelled like summer rain, anyway. thats what reminded me.
"theres no chance or fortune beyond the moon." my.
i forget that things do not always have to be a beautiful, perfect, much. some things can be. but some things one can just let go. or delegate. or just not do. or wait till later. and it will be okay.
and also, Jesus did not say that martha was wrong for doing things because things must be done after all, but just that mary choose what was better, and what was lasting, and what is all we need. and that is a point, i think.
how hard it is to be uncontent and content at the same time, and i think that that is what is asked of us, maybe? to keep growing and working and perservering and trying eversohard but at the same time, just sit and enjoy and love and see beautiful things and breathe.
old things are good to remember sometimes.
"do the next thing. it does not matter
how it hurts as long as it
gives God the chance to
manifest himself in your mortal flesh."
oh, yeah.
we pick funny things for burdens.
i need to invest me into things more, but thats scary. and i feel like i do it so much already, but its still not exactly enough. thats weird. and honest is scary. trying again is scary. what to do next is scary. heck, even getting your hair cut is scary.
[random comment by whatsherface after a song from chapel on wednesday]
"sometimes, things become a different sort of beautiful than you expect, and sometimes that hurts. and theres an intimacy that comes in the sanctifying and in knowing that your Father is [still!] good.
theres a sweet resolution that comes in letting go."
things are not like i expected.
i love talking to people who make me think. and i am osovery thankful for when they remind me of things i need to hear, even if its on accident. and [real] friends are so...necessary. and good. good for the soul. just like hotfudge i approve of having them. all of them. hooray.
i also love learning how things work. i will be forever and ever grateful to him for showing me about howstuffworks.com. its my newest favoritest thing ever. because i have learned about things that i have always always wanted to know, and there are pictures and its soo cool. and theres a lot more i still have to learn from there. [i learned today that someone invented the dustpan. thats so weird. that should be one of those things that was just always around. and also, if someone else hadnt invented, say, the refridgerator or something, dont you think someone else would have eventually? or some ideas just strictly people specific?] and thats exciting too. oh, and i have decided that asking questions is a really good idea. i have asked some experts some things lately, and they have answers for you. so thats mostly my new thing: i have talked to phone professionals, and biology professors [if you want a good story, ill tell you this one] and this week, i will talk to ballet professionals. and they know things, and tell you all about it, and its soo cool. its my newest other favorite thing ever.
and heres a poem [by emily dickinson] and notes [by my professor in his journalbook. he just shared]:
There are two Ripenings--one--of sight--
Whose forces Spheric wind
Until the Velvet product
Drop spicy to the ground--
A homelier maturing--
A Process in the Bur--
That teeth of Frosts alone disclose
In far October Air.
NOTE: "bur"--a rough prickly core around the seed of
some plants. an earlier version was ordered into two quatrains;
"round" was rhymed with "ground"--Dickinson's revisions
moved toward slant rhmye rather than away from it.
The less showy ripening occurs inside the husk, inside ourselves
and will not be revealed until some distant time.
The exterior ripening is showier, more vulnerable,
occurs earlier, and is ended by a fall to the earth. The
second ripening is longer, occurs at home, is associated
with actual flavor (the fuit is bitten by the "teeth" of winter),
goes undisclosed until death. My.
My. indeed.
Posted 2/17/2006 3:02 AM
occurences unto me
so i had a brilliant revelation just now: its o.k.a.y. to write something that is not what i wanted. because i have all these things in my head that are important, or at least they are to me and for this moment. and i need to write them because things will be more settled after i do [maybe [?]. because because. and also because i might have exploded or something if i didnt, maybe. and thats never fun. well, or maybe not. and i could explain that all if i had to, but i think im skipping it. [thank heavens i was thinking of anne lamont and her wonderfully freeing concept of how first drafts should be.[if you want to know, ill tell you.] otherwise, im sure i'd still be stuck, because writing is eversohard! and mostly i want things like this to be perfect and this is not how i want these to be, but here they are. [ah hah! a list! and then ah hah! it can be a crap list.] probably soon, they will be around again, somehow more like what i intended. i need directions to perfection. [oh. no, no, no, no.]
so, here:
occurences unto me:
1. it is such a lovely moment when the thing-you-thought-you-wanted becomes only the
thing-you-thought-you-wanted. [and not what you really wanted or even needed.]
it is really and truly lovely. and the great thing is that you can talk yourself in and out of that stuff like in 2 seconds, so you can have that moment more than once.
and then this comes next:
steps to contentment
1. allow thyself to complain of nothing, not even the weather.
2. never picture thyself under any circumstance in which thou art not.
3. never compare thy own lot with that of another.
4. never allow thyself to dwell on the wish that this or that had been, or were
otherwise than it was / is. God almighty loves thee better and more wisely than
thou dost thyself.
5. never dwell on the morrow. remember--it is Gods, not thine. the heaviest part of
sorrow is often the look forward to it. "the Lord will provide."
oooh. such a happy sort of promise in #5.
this is coming, i feel rather sure. i am not uncontent, certainly. but i am not quite sure i am entirely content yet, either. but i am happy, and busy [and this will be a busy semester] and all of that. and things are just how they should be.
2. i love the smell of clean laundry. and if i can fold sheets like my grandmother and mother one day, that will be a life-goal accomplished, let me tell you. and i was good, and made my bed sooo well today, even though i hate to put sheets on my bed. but i do like new sheets muchly too.
and i love whistling. i wish i could do it better [ i can only do it a little] but it makes me eversohappy when there is whistling involved with things like working, or walmart, or flirting, or driving, or music, or icecream, or anything.
and i love banananutbread. and i really want to make some, but i probably dont get to, but i want to. that is one of those things that i havent ruined yet, ever, knockonwood. and its sooo good. and amazing. and im not even bragging, it really is so good. and its one of my established accomplishments. along with maybe tiptoeing? im good at that. and even when im wearing heels, too, cause i dont let them clomp. ladies should neverever clomp, you know.
3. i have been listening to this cd, as listed, for several days now, and i believe that i like it because 1) its so great 2) i was in the dentist office and i was reading this review of them and it was telling all about how they dress up for concerts. how great is that? suits on men are good. [heres a hint: its hard to find a girl who doesnt like a man in a good suit, or in uniform. but heavens, dont go join the army or something just for that. its not actually important. just wear a suit once in a while or so instead.] also, its too bad its not still normal to do that, cause then girls could dress up everyday and everything would be sexier. and we would all have really good legs. not that im a leg girl, im just saying. anyway, and also, i like it because 3) it fits at the moment. mostly i am changing how i feel about things like every 5 minutes. i want to talk, then i dont. im settled, then flustered. i feel independent, then very dependent; grown-up, then not at all. i feel pretty, then fat. happy then unhappy. content, then worried. unhappy, then understanding. clever, then stupid. i mean, i cant make up my mind; its like a freaking pingpong game. i suck at pingpong, at least usually. and this album cant make up its mind either, and it flips out about a lot of the same ideas. and its great.
[what i need to remember is that beautiful and clever, settled and independent can all exist at the very same time as dependent and silly, and needs to study and eat healthy foods take a shower before class and stuff. things can co-exist. [!]]
4. ["sometimes i pray for a slap in the face, and then beg to be spared cause im a coward."]
5. i think that ive been talking my head off lately, and not even about anything of great importance. [and im doing it now too.] and i feel so bad about it, and i really do have other things to say, they just arent coming out yet. and i feel all self-conscious and obnoxious, and i feel like apologizing to nearly everone i talk to, just in case i talk to much. and if im not actually apologizing, im apologizing in my head, just like im doing right here, cause im pretty sure im talking my head off now too.] and its so weird, cause im not usually self-conscious about stuff like this. usually im like "oh, well. it wont hurt you to listen to me talk. and then ill listen to you. and its all good." and i feel all bad, cause i want to talk to people lately. so if we have a conversation i promise to keep my mouth mostly shut, and listen, too. cross my heart. and you are all completly allowed to tell me to shut up too, and i wont even mind one smidgin. and im all worried about other stupid stuff like "oh, no. i might weigh 4 more pounds then i want to." and "what should i wear tomorrow?" and "blahblah whateverwhatever." and that has got to stop. because it is stupid. and i get so mad at myself for it, because how can i even think about getting mad because i may or may not weigh 4 stupid pounds more than what i have randomly decided a good weight for me would be. or because this, that and the other. i mean really. mrs. march on little women tells amy that she is "more intent on shaping her dear little nose than enfashioning her character." and im afraid thats sadly sadly true too often for me. although its not strictly my nose that gives me trouble. i dont mind my nose. well, i mean, sometimes, i think its funny looking, but not usually. noses are funny things in general.
6. i really am having trouble making my head make what i know about economics and the Gospel, and our attitude towards everyone work together. i mean, the church should take care of poor people, etc.etc.etc.. yes. and at the same time, the church can not dilute the Gospel to the people they serve just because they are serving. but also, welfare is not the best way to go; that means they dont have to get a job, and that messes up taxes and all kinds of things. thats only an example, but i cant make the larger ideas work together really well either. if someone can, will you explain it to me? or are there books to be read about the subject? i will read them if i can find them. cause i really want to know, so much.
7. when i was driving home, i thought i got drugged, then someone almost ran into me and that was very scary, and then i was driving in the middle of these police enthusiast guys who i thought were police at first cause they had police stickers on their cars, but they were speeding a lot, and then i got some donuts, and then i had a stalker for like an hour and then i got home. and i didnt even die. and then my parents had their anniversary, and i got cheesecake out of the deal. with strawberries. mmmmm.
also, when i was home i was playing hide and seek with some people like my sisters and some our friends [who are under age 11, you know] and we were having this really big debate and i dont know which it is, and i dont know if there are rules for such things, but i am really curious: what are the exact rules for hide-and-seek? does anyone know? i mean, is the person found first the next one to be it, because they obviously suck at hiding. and if thats the case, do you find one person, and just let everyone else remain hidden, since they found good spots? or: is the last one found the next it? and what is the base, and when does it come into play? and then when do you say "come out, come out, wherever you are?" is that only if you are horrible at finding people and and havent found anyone after an hour? who is it then? and what is olyolyoxenfree? is that how you spell it?
i think we always played last one found is it when we were littler, with a base, and the yelling, but we had a huge debate about it, and the merits of all the ways, and so im all confused now.
[p.s. i really want to know this, too, please.]
8. i think its so funny when people think that they invented things. like those people who claim that they themselves created phrases like "true story" and "cool beans" and "LOL" and "you lose." and then they get all offended when you say it and they're like "hey, i invented that." and its like, no. those are things that just are and im pretty sure no one invented them. its like the other day, mumma and i were looking for some lyrics to this song and we were reading the little bio of an artist that recorded it once, and it said that this guy [i dont even remember who it was] invented the concept of putting lyrics in the cd booklet thing. and i was like um, no. 1) if that was invented, it would have been invented before 1990, pretty sure. and 2) i dont think that was an invented thing. it just is a thing. that was around. all the time. except for muchly. i so think i invinted that one, because ive never heard any random people say it. maybe i just dont listen to random people talk enough, which im sure is true, and its also very sad, but there it is. and im not sure if i invinted it or not, probably not. but in case i did, i dont care if other people say it. i like that.
9. i think people need 7 hugs a day, or something?
i wouldnt mind getting that many. i been in a hugging mood lately, i believe.
10. here is a poem by anna akhmatova that was written in 1917. i think its maybe one of my favoriter poems on the list of favorite poems. i think its pretty much beautiful.
We Don't Know How to Say Goodbye
We don't know how to say goodbye--
we wander all over shoulder to shoulder.
It's already starting to get dark;
you're thoughtful, and I keep quiet.
Let's go into the church, watch
a funeral, a christening, a wedding;
let's leave, not looking at each other--
why don't we live like that?
Or, lets sit in the cemetery,
in the trampled snow; let's breathe lightly,
and let you trace with a stick palaces
where we will always be together.
isnt it funny how much of life is replacing things? replace is a word like almost thats not quite good, and not quite bad, it could mostly go either way. outgrowing things we love is never a pleasant process, but eventually, we probably do outgrow them, and then we do replace them with other things we love. and when something you hope for doesnt work out, then you probably just start hoping for something else, and so on. and when you break a bad habit, you replace it with, hopefully, a better one. and when you stop thinking of something, you think of something else, and when you leave friends behind, you make new ones. its weird. really weird.
what if we could keep all the old dreams and habits and things around? how crowded that would be. simplify, simplify, simplify. indeed, henrydavid. indeed.
and we must be careful not to replace the most important with things of far lesser importance, but how often that happens too. and so often we replace words plus deeds with just words. scary thought. i hope not. i want to do things too.
11. im still kindof confused about the dalai lama, too.
hope is an extremely wonderful word. it even sounds wonderful. like hotfudge. it just sounds yummy.
"surely, hope does not disappoint, because God's love has been poured out."
mmm.
i have a few books i need to read before things get busy.
im not quite sure i said anything yet. at least, im not sure i said what i meant most of all. i think its there, but not exactly coherently. "there needs to be a revolution; i would lead it but i just bought a hammock." and, im getting sleepy. tomorrow. yes. tomorrow different things will happen, and there will be chances for things. i need to make use of them, and thats all; i need to set all of my alarmclocks to make sure that i dont miss more than necessary. and i need to have some hotfudge. i havent had some in a while. hotfudgesundaes are just good for the soul, you know?
[just wait.]
ive got soul, but im not a soldier.
currently playing: hot fuss / the killers
Posted 2/2/2006 4:47 AM
so, here:
occurences unto me:
1. it is such a lovely moment when the thing-you-thought-you-wanted becomes only the
thing-you-thought-you-wanted. [and not what you really wanted or even needed.]
it is really and truly lovely. and the great thing is that you can talk yourself in and out of that stuff like in 2 seconds, so you can have that moment more than once.
and then this comes next:
steps to contentment
1. allow thyself to complain of nothing, not even the weather.
2. never picture thyself under any circumstance in which thou art not.
3. never compare thy own lot with that of another.
4. never allow thyself to dwell on the wish that this or that had been, or were
otherwise than it was / is. God almighty loves thee better and more wisely than
thou dost thyself.
5. never dwell on the morrow. remember--it is Gods, not thine. the heaviest part of
sorrow is often the look forward to it. "the Lord will provide."
oooh. such a happy sort of promise in #5.
this is coming, i feel rather sure. i am not uncontent, certainly. but i am not quite sure i am entirely content yet, either. but i am happy, and busy [and this will be a busy semester] and all of that. and things are just how they should be.
2. i love the smell of clean laundry. and if i can fold sheets like my grandmother and mother one day, that will be a life-goal accomplished, let me tell you. and i was good, and made my bed sooo well today, even though i hate to put sheets on my bed. but i do like new sheets muchly too.
and i love whistling. i wish i could do it better [ i can only do it a little] but it makes me eversohappy when there is whistling involved with things like working, or walmart, or flirting, or driving, or music, or icecream, or anything.
and i love banananutbread. and i really want to make some, but i probably dont get to, but i want to. that is one of those things that i havent ruined yet, ever, knockonwood. and its sooo good. and amazing. and im not even bragging, it really is so good. and its one of my established accomplishments. along with maybe tiptoeing? im good at that. and even when im wearing heels, too, cause i dont let them clomp. ladies should neverever clomp, you know.
3. i have been listening to this cd, as listed, for several days now, and i believe that i like it because 1) its so great 2) i was in the dentist office and i was reading this review of them and it was telling all about how they dress up for concerts. how great is that? suits on men are good. [heres a hint: its hard to find a girl who doesnt like a man in a good suit, or in uniform. but heavens, dont go join the army or something just for that. its not actually important. just wear a suit once in a while or so instead.] also, its too bad its not still normal to do that, cause then girls could dress up everyday and everything would be sexier. and we would all have really good legs. not that im a leg girl, im just saying. anyway, and also, i like it because 3) it fits at the moment. mostly i am changing how i feel about things like every 5 minutes. i want to talk, then i dont. im settled, then flustered. i feel independent, then very dependent; grown-up, then not at all. i feel pretty, then fat. happy then unhappy. content, then worried. unhappy, then understanding. clever, then stupid. i mean, i cant make up my mind; its like a freaking pingpong game. i suck at pingpong, at least usually. and this album cant make up its mind either, and it flips out about a lot of the same ideas. and its great.
[what i need to remember is that beautiful and clever, settled and independent can all exist at the very same time as dependent and silly, and needs to study and eat healthy foods take a shower before class and stuff. things can co-exist. [!]]
4. ["sometimes i pray for a slap in the face, and then beg to be spared cause im a coward."]
5. i think that ive been talking my head off lately, and not even about anything of great importance. [and im doing it now too.] and i feel so bad about it, and i really do have other things to say, they just arent coming out yet. and i feel all self-conscious and obnoxious, and i feel like apologizing to nearly everone i talk to, just in case i talk to much. and if im not actually apologizing, im apologizing in my head, just like im doing right here, cause im pretty sure im talking my head off now too.] and its so weird, cause im not usually self-conscious about stuff like this. usually im like "oh, well. it wont hurt you to listen to me talk. and then ill listen to you. and its all good." and i feel all bad, cause i want to talk to people lately. so if we have a conversation i promise to keep my mouth mostly shut, and listen, too. cross my heart. and you are all completly allowed to tell me to shut up too, and i wont even mind one smidgin. and im all worried about other stupid stuff like "oh, no. i might weigh 4 more pounds then i want to." and "what should i wear tomorrow?" and "blahblah whateverwhatever." and that has got to stop. because it is stupid. and i get so mad at myself for it, because how can i even think about getting mad because i may or may not weigh 4 stupid pounds more than what i have randomly decided a good weight for me would be. or because this, that and the other. i mean really. mrs. march on little women tells amy that she is "more intent on shaping her dear little nose than enfashioning her character." and im afraid thats sadly sadly true too often for me. although its not strictly my nose that gives me trouble. i dont mind my nose. well, i mean, sometimes, i think its funny looking, but not usually. noses are funny things in general.
6. i really am having trouble making my head make what i know about economics and the Gospel, and our attitude towards everyone work together. i mean, the church should take care of poor people, etc.etc.etc.. yes. and at the same time, the church can not dilute the Gospel to the people they serve just because they are serving. but also, welfare is not the best way to go; that means they dont have to get a job, and that messes up taxes and all kinds of things. thats only an example, but i cant make the larger ideas work together really well either. if someone can, will you explain it to me? or are there books to be read about the subject? i will read them if i can find them. cause i really want to know, so much.
7. when i was driving home, i thought i got drugged, then someone almost ran into me and that was very scary, and then i was driving in the middle of these police enthusiast guys who i thought were police at first cause they had police stickers on their cars, but they were speeding a lot, and then i got some donuts, and then i had a stalker for like an hour and then i got home. and i didnt even die. and then my parents had their anniversary, and i got cheesecake out of the deal. with strawberries. mmmmm.
also, when i was home i was playing hide and seek with some people like my sisters and some our friends [who are under age 11, you know] and we were having this really big debate and i dont know which it is, and i dont know if there are rules for such things, but i am really curious: what are the exact rules for hide-and-seek? does anyone know? i mean, is the person found first the next one to be it, because they obviously suck at hiding. and if thats the case, do you find one person, and just let everyone else remain hidden, since they found good spots? or: is the last one found the next it? and what is the base, and when does it come into play? and then when do you say "come out, come out, wherever you are?" is that only if you are horrible at finding people and and havent found anyone after an hour? who is it then? and what is olyolyoxenfree? is that how you spell it?
i think we always played last one found is it when we were littler, with a base, and the yelling, but we had a huge debate about it, and the merits of all the ways, and so im all confused now.
[p.s. i really want to know this, too, please.]
8. i think its so funny when people think that they invented things. like those people who claim that they themselves created phrases like "true story" and "cool beans" and "LOL" and "you lose." and then they get all offended when you say it and they're like "hey, i invented that." and its like, no. those are things that just are and im pretty sure no one invented them. its like the other day, mumma and i were looking for some lyrics to this song and we were reading the little bio of an artist that recorded it once, and it said that this guy [i dont even remember who it was] invented the concept of putting lyrics in the cd booklet thing. and i was like um, no. 1) if that was invented, it would have been invented before 1990, pretty sure. and 2) i dont think that was an invented thing. it just is a thing. that was around. all the time. except for muchly. i so think i invinted that one, because ive never heard any random people say it. maybe i just dont listen to random people talk enough, which im sure is true, and its also very sad, but there it is. and im not sure if i invinted it or not, probably not. but in case i did, i dont care if other people say it. i like that.
9. i think people need 7 hugs a day, or something?
i wouldnt mind getting that many. i been in a hugging mood lately, i believe.
10. here is a poem by anna akhmatova that was written in 1917. i think its maybe one of my favoriter poems on the list of favorite poems. i think its pretty much beautiful.
We Don't Know How to Say Goodbye
We don't know how to say goodbye--
we wander all over shoulder to shoulder.
It's already starting to get dark;
you're thoughtful, and I keep quiet.
Let's go into the church, watch
a funeral, a christening, a wedding;
let's leave, not looking at each other--
why don't we live like that?
Or, lets sit in the cemetery,
in the trampled snow; let's breathe lightly,
and let you trace with a stick palaces
where we will always be together.
isnt it funny how much of life is replacing things? replace is a word like almost thats not quite good, and not quite bad, it could mostly go either way. outgrowing things we love is never a pleasant process, but eventually, we probably do outgrow them, and then we do replace them with other things we love. and when something you hope for doesnt work out, then you probably just start hoping for something else, and so on. and when you break a bad habit, you replace it with, hopefully, a better one. and when you stop thinking of something, you think of something else, and when you leave friends behind, you make new ones. its weird. really weird.
what if we could keep all the old dreams and habits and things around? how crowded that would be. simplify, simplify, simplify. indeed, henrydavid. indeed.
and we must be careful not to replace the most important with things of far lesser importance, but how often that happens too. and so often we replace words plus deeds with just words. scary thought. i hope not. i want to do things too.
11. im still kindof confused about the dalai lama, too.
hope is an extremely wonderful word. it even sounds wonderful. like hotfudge. it just sounds yummy.
"surely, hope does not disappoint, because God's love has been poured out."
mmm.
i have a few books i need to read before things get busy.
im not quite sure i said anything yet. at least, im not sure i said what i meant most of all. i think its there, but not exactly coherently. "there needs to be a revolution; i would lead it but i just bought a hammock." and, im getting sleepy. tomorrow. yes. tomorrow different things will happen, and there will be chances for things. i need to make use of them, and thats all; i need to set all of my alarmclocks to make sure that i dont miss more than necessary. and i need to have some hotfudge. i havent had some in a while. hotfudgesundaes are just good for the soul, you know?
[just wait.]
ive got soul, but im not a soldier.
currently playing: hot fuss / the killers
Posted 2/2/2006 4:47 AM
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