Showing posts with label brownpaper packages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brownpaper packages. Show all posts

Saturday, August 28, 2010

name: julie date: 9-12-1991

because the windows are open. and im eating cookies and cream icecream. and my mother is making me. and because i was seven when i wrote this. spelling is original, folks.

~

these things make me feel happy inside:
1. that me and momie got to go to the GA retret.
2. that i have frireds.
3. i'm glad my dad lets me let me use his tiperiter without gitting yelded at.
4.I'm glad I have peres (parents)
5. I have friends. (if this is friends, then what is #2?)
6. I have a tecer. (teacher)
7. Go to silver doller (city?)
8.Go on wed-day to GA's
9. I'm happy I have toys
10. riding book like taky the ping wend (no idea. seriously.)
11. Doing art work.
12. I'm glad thers never been a tornato
13. I'm glad i have a sister.
14. I'm glad on wendasy i don't have to go into the nursy on wendsday.
15. We have satrday and sunday off.

~
im surprised there was no mention of books, besides that weird number 10.
i keep this list in a book. but thought i should post it, in case the book ever gets lost. its h.e. ray's star book. he is the one that wrote curious george. he is well rounded.
i wonder if i will write more on here? i ought to, i know that. there are things to remember, if not things to say.
my parents left me a note on the back--apparently i also made a very attractive watermelon something. and i told them just where to sit whenever they got to my class (for parent-teacher night? open house?). and they love me anyway.
probably i'll have to write again so that i can make a list of things that make me happy now. for the sake of balance.
isnt it funny to find things about your little self? and then get to wonder all night long if little me is still at home in the current me, and if i can still find 15+ things that i'm so happy about i don't care how i spell (i was, i think, actually a pretty decent speller, but maybe that wasnt till later?)--and i think the only reason i stopped was because i was out of lines on the page.

Friday, October 17, 2008

{ what i remember }

1.
how sooo early we had to wake up, and how excited we all were. even though i was so tired!
2.
Getting hair done. i was still making a list of things i had forgotten, and the hair people were so
funny, and we had a delicious breakfast (our friend brought it to us.) I was done super quick. This is where i saw jed first--he stopped by to get some breakfast too. Daddy was out to buy
some shoes at walmart (he forgot to get some otherwise) for breakfast too, and then went to put bows on the trees. I let emily go to walmart too, to buy some other stuff.  (there were sooo many people who helped me!  it was so nice.)
3.
I went to church to get ready! we had to hurry. first thing, i opened all the blinds in the auditorium. It was morning time and i wanted the light to come in! I saw jed again, and made him take his coat off so i wouldnt see him all dressed up either. he told me the three things he was going to remember, (if nothing else--he ended up remembering more after all.)  plus, We just had a lovely few moments together.
4.
So many people back where i was getting ready, and it was crazy. Someone made them all leave so i could get dressed with mom and my sister, and then they came back and we all prayed, which was sweet. Then Dad came back to see me, and then we almost cried, but didnt quite, and then we took just a few pictures, and then it was time to go!
5.
I LOVED my flowers. they were fun, and romantic and classic and perfect. they fit in wonderfully.
6.
I had a few minutes all to myself while everyone else was busy walking in and i couldnt be seen yet. I watched the flower girls and ring bearers for a few minutes (so they wouldnt be loud--and they were so cute). i tried to listen to the music (it was beautiful, but darn the semi-soundproof doors) and tried to make sure that i really wanted to get married, and i guess i did. i was actually pretty calm by then, and the whole day.  i was really deep-down happy. granted, i was a NERVOUS WRECK for a few weeks previous.  but that day, i got over it.
7.
dad came to get me, and i had to get out a little door, and not get my train caught. before the door slammed. Daddy told me a funny story before we walked in (all crying was done the night before, we were pitiful.). We didnt cry the whole time! or, if they did, i didnt know about it, and i was glad, because i wanted a happy wedding!
8.
I couldnt see jed at first. but when i finally could, i couldnt believe the way he was looking at me.
9.
The music was absolutely beautiful. --during the ceremony it was all live. and it was seriously PERFECT. i walked down to this.
even hearing it now makes me catch my breath a little, especially at the end.
10.
i just felt that everyone was so nervous--i could feel it, you know? they were nervous for me and especially daddy. and so when i was walking up on stage, i tripped and couldnt help but laugh out loud. everyone laughed with me, and it was much better! everyone could breathe again.
11.
The sermon was perfect. It was literary and memorable and fit jed and i to a tee. gah. i couldnt get over it.
12.
i couldnt decide if we were supposed to sing or not with everyone. a friend suggest that we just talk in such a way to produce "gentle smiles" i think we did half and half, although i dont know if i remember what we said--probably things along the lines of "can you BELIEVE the number of people here?!" because there were probably 400 people at the wedding proper and about 385 at the reception.
13.
We took communion with our parents. I got too big of a piece of bread on accident and had to chew it for quite some time, it felt like.
14.
it was a perfectly sweet kiss.
14.
the pastor said "WHAT GOD HAS JOINED TOGETHER, LET NO MAN TEAR ASUNDER" very well. i always wanted that said in an old-fashioned pastoral booming voice, and he delivered.
15.
We were supposed to walk back down (or up?) the aisle to "How sweet it is to be loved by you." At the rehersal, they played some ridiculous country song about beer and my baby's loving arms. At the wedding, my dad snuck back on stage and they performed a version of how sweet it is LIVE! about halfway down the asile, i came to the realization that it wasnt james taylor singing...it was my...dad?!?!?!!!! i tripped once again trying to see, and trying to show jed and all of that. I'm sure it was halirious. And we went in the hallway, and hugged and squealed and laughed and kissed and then went back to listen more, and i think i cried a little then and laughed and couldnt believe it. it was so sweet, and he (and all the musicians) sounded SO good. i LOVED it. and so did everyone. i had no idea in the slightest.
16. 
we had a parade over to the reception place.  as dad explained it to everyone: "it was like a funeral, but different!"  that meant that we all got in a line, and honked and waved and the like.  super fun.
17.  
dad had a friend with a 1920s ford that actually ran. jed and i rode in that, but when we went to get in, the groomsmen hadnt put the just married sign on the back yet, so they had to hurry and do that.  except it ended up going all the way around the car, except just on the back, and it was kindof halirious.  there was no air conditioning in the car, (duh) so it was a toss-up between being cooler, or guarding my hairdo.
18.  
the reception was absolutely gorgeous and fun.
there were lots of windows, and lots of light.  the food smelled so good (and later, it tasted good.)  there were balloons, and cake, and buttons to wear, and little flowers, and happy music. it was, in a word, perfect.
19.  
jed and i stood at the door and welcomed/greeted people.  i hugged so many people in a row!  i couldnt believe some of the people who came from so far away even, and it was so lovely to see so many people whom i loved all at once, and even the doctor who delivered jed. (thats tremont for you).  i was dying of heat though, and the line was forever long, and i was so thirsty.  finally someone brought me some water, and i was so grateful.
20. 
 we cut in line (i know!) and got some food.  the stuff i had was super good! (eggs, and spicy, cheesy eggs, too. hashbrowns, bacon & sausage, fruit, pastries, french toast-stuff (my favorite), buicuits and gravy. omg.     
21.  
jed and i had a little table in the middle of everyone.  it was up high, and it was hard to get into my chair.  
22.
we went the IPOD route for the reception, but i picked all my favorite happy songs.  These are the songs i remember hearing: baby, baby (amy grant), strawberry swing (coldplay), all shook up (elvis), glycerine (bush), flowers in the window (travis), and you are my sunshine (bob dylan and johnny cash) and 1234 (feist).  but there were more!  when you are my sunshine came on,  dad was just like "what the heck is this?!" and jed passed all blame onto me.  oh well. how can you go wrong with bob & johnny?!  i didnt apologize.  i still dont. the whole thing was quite happy.   except im still not sure where baby, baby came from.   alas.
23.
the cake table was like something out of my dreams--all those beautiful cupcakes all lined up!  i loved it.  and our little cake was so beautiful.  apparently my parents and i had very similar looking cakes, but i had no idea when i was designing mine that it looked like theirs!  i must have been subconsciously influenced.  it was super good cake, and jed, who doesnt even like cake, liked it.  we didnt really smash it, except for we still got messy, anyway.
24. 
after that, we delievered cupcakes to people (not just us, but the whole bridal party and our parents).  that was fun, too.
25.  
around this time, a kid (who's name i didnt even know) started following me around (kindof annoyingly, actually, but i didnt know his name so i couldnt even tell him to go away (after asking if he needed something?  and even giving him a hug.)  he kept following me, and i kept ignoring him, and eventually he stepped on my bustle and it broke. and being such a mess, i had nothing to fix it with, but someone had a big huge safety pin, thankfully.  it didnt want to hold well, though, and so for the rest of the day we were fixing it.
26.  
we just talked and laughed with people for a while.  it seemed so short, and i know i didnt get to talk to everyone i really wanted to (except for in the big long line).
27. 
when it was time to leave, jed and i got to walk through a tunnel of streamers, which was great.  a little out of pride and prejudice, which isnt bad.  we got back in the old car and drove around the parking lot.  then we didnt know what to do, so we came back to the last few minutes of the party.  we took pictures with our extended families and stuff. and then more with the bridal party somewhere else and then jed and i went to take a few more pictures at this wonderful old house, where i wanted to have the wedding, if about 300 fewer people were coming.  
28.  
all in all, it was the most beautiful day.   it really was.  and we just talked about it for the next 48 hours or so, every little thing we remembered, so we wouldnt forget.  so far, so good.  it was exactly as i thought it ought to have  been, and exactly just like us, and exactly perfect.  and we are happy.(!)

Thursday, December 6, 2007

{eavesdropping.* }

(or: put a goose in your basket and call it a day.)

i think its important to eat foods with their intended instruments, so i always try to eat chinese, etc. with chopsticks, if at all possible. i like it.

there are certainly things in this world that try one's patience.

oh, you know how the only constellations we know are mostly just the dippers and orien (although, maybe you know more, i dont remember?). anyway. i found out that orien's armpit is what beetlejuice is. which is weird. why would you name someones armpit beetlejuice?

and i finally got some gravy last night, from crackerbarrel. it seemed a little on the thin side, but it was certainly better than nothing, which is what i previously had. i have not, however, filled the craving for waffle house.
whenever i think of gravy, i also usually think of this guy named joey, who i worked at perkins with, in jackson. one day, when i first got there, we were talking about how his life was so screwed up right then, and then he said--in the most southern-ish accent ever--"its all gravy, baby." and it was so funny, and sortof a culture shock thing, maybe, cause his accent was so strong (even though southern accents werent new to me at all!) for some reason i always think of that.

and theres a reason why i've been busy---work. i have 4 events in the fall. one has just happened, and one happens this week. i've had to go back to work 3 nights this week, which is gross, but i have a million things to do! and i feel like im forgetting things like crazy. so, i made myself a massive to-do list and put some pictures on it, so i like to look at it, and i also made myself a great soundtrack and got myself a cookie and i've been plugging away, at least sortof. who knows how everything is actually doing. not me!
so, if you have any good music suggestions for fall soundtrack #2, let me know. i was pleased with the first soundtrack, and i have been listening to it. having a great soundtrack for life makes a difference!
ive been going to bed later than i was trying to before and so im tired too.
i have missed this feeling. i miss being up at two in the morning talking to people at a damp-from-dew picnic table. i miss sleeping in random places and carrying my alarm clock and toothbrush with me to the DMS lab. i miss the DMS lab. it was so inspiring. i mostly miss the feeling that i am learning things that are important--and then that i can do something with the things that i have learned. actually, not true. the thing i miss the most is eating whatever i want and not gaining a pound ;)

i am using a different computer than normal and the keys are so nice and clicky. (i need a laptop. but i decided to not get one until i paid off my last credit card. almost there!)

i like being busy, but i think i feel static in lots of other ways.
also, this week, i met someone who's parents died in the genocide in rowanda, and a guy i went to highschool with was at the mission and also, someone a year younger than me from church was at the mission too. i did not know what to say to these things. they made me feel really lame. and sad. and it breaks my heart to see guys my age at the mission. they shouldnt be there, you know? 23 year olds havent had time to mess up their lives yet--its mostly still just plain stupidity still.
maybe thats what i meant when i said that i dont feel like myself sometimes here. i havent written hardly at all (i just cant do it!) and i dont feel like im learning things (except i know i am.) and i dont feel like i have the chance anymore to do something important. i would like to do something important. and im not sure that im quite so funny anymore. and im not sure i was terribly funny to begin with, except sometimes when i write, but i dont even do that anymore, so thats out! bleh!
and sometimes, i feel like boring-ness and staticity is encouraged by people here (if not directly, then by their lifestyles) and that is a tragedy. one of many in the world, i know. people here are okay with being bored. i cant remember the last time i was bored! my mother never let us, and there is certainly too much to do in the world to ever think about being bored. this is a pet peeve of mine, for sure.

also, we went to the nickel creek concert on sunday (two sundays ago, now), or rather sat outside of it (it was an outdoor concert) and my sister and i werent rich enough to pay for both of us to get in, so we sat outside the fence with some nice old people and some other hippie people and this guy that worked there? i guess? started yelling at us before the concert started about how we werent true art supporters and stuff. and then later he threatened us with security, then he brought them (even though he couldnt kick us out, cause we were on public property.) but we moved back a ways, and were just fine, but the hippie people argued and argued with the both of them about it, and it was pretty funny.) but it was really a wonderful concert with all the random mix of people that you find at and around those things.


its important to like cheese when you go to europe because that is what they eat there! all the time, for breakfast and things. also, baked beans sometimes, i heard. imagine the queen eating baked beans for breakfast! thats an amusing thought. well, of course, the queen is amusing either way you go. my favorite story though, is king henry the VIII. my best friend growing up was two years older than i was and was a fantastic reader. like checking 38 books out of the library at a time fantastic. and then reading them all.
anyway, i would make her tell me the story of king henry the viii over and over because she had all the wives memorized and knew all the juicy details about them. i love that--a good story with just the right details that you can listen to over and over. also, i love the steadfast tin soldier--thats more of a fairytale, but it isnt really. you should read it, if you havent. or wait till i see you, and ill read it to you. then you can read me something. there is something so wonderful about being read to. do you remember when you were old enough to read, but still young enough to be read to on a regular basis (did your mom read to you? did you like it?) and i would try to read over moms shoulder and read ahead! but then you would get stuck when it came to the end of the page.
seems like a metaphor for something.
do you have a favorite?
it would be really weird, but cool, to live underwater. one major memory of mine from early on in life was going to san antonio with my sister and parents (by the way, you and your sister were adorable when you were little. i have no pictures online for you to see of my sisters, but sometime ill show you.) anyway, we went to seaworld and the alamo, etc. but we also went to this one place where we went down in a submarine, and there were mermaids and this swimming, dancing pig. it was so crazy! and it made an impression on me, i can tell you.

and today, i saw a man riding a bike with a painted goose sitting on the front of his bike, like in the basket. why did he have that goose? why did he paint it? where was he going? oh! and you'll never guess this one: i saw the bicycle-goose-man again! it wasnt just a one time thing. and it was raining, and he was riding around anyway, and holding an umbrella at the same time. and i learned that the goose is actually just white--not painted at all--but instead is dressed in capes, tied around his neck! that is crazy. it was a different cape this time. something striped, i believe.
things like that make a difference in life. and i dont know about you, but i need that.


* courtesy of various emails written to people

Posted 9/2/2007 1:15 AM

{ once in a blue moon }

once in a blue moon is one of the things that i always say. and lo and behold, tonight is a blue moon, for real. here is an article about it. i read it (or at least skimmed it). apparently, it has not much to do with the color of the moon, and has something to do with misunderstandings in language. how appropriate. i was very interested to learn this stuff. although it was very cloudy tonight, ironically enough, and so i couldnt see it. and i was a little sad, because there is something intrinsically lovely about blue moons. another thing i say on a regular basis is: is the pope catholic? and varients thereof.

the thing that my grandpa always said was this:
i went to the river, and i couldnt get across
i paid five dollars for an old gray horse
i got to the river, and he couldnt swim,
so i knocked him on the head with a hickory limb.

whereupon we would probably also be knocked on the head, although not with a hickory limb, because we didnt have many of those. but with whatever was handy. like the newspaper. or the couch pillow. or...um...the flyswatter.

speaking of my grandpa, he passed away.
it was very sad, and very strange. but he was a good grandpa, and i know he loved the Lord a lot, so its okay. and my grandmother is wonderful about the whole thing. she kept saying (with the resoluteness of that generation) that it was just our turn, and we didnt want our turn at this, but everyone has to have one, and we can trust God. and we can. but i still cried. i have been less ashamed of tears lately. how important it is to share with each other! not just pizza, or jokes, or smalltalk, but everything. (and the second most important thing to share is stories. this is something else my grandmother was great about). the whole thing is about letting people come over with your house messy, because theirs is too, probably. at least a little bit, like in the closets. its about a willingness to be vulnerable, sometimes. not always, certainly. but its important. and hard. being real is important, and even just one real conversation can make such a big difference. really. ( i miss this.)

my grandparents have really bad timing in dying, though. (haha.) my dads mom was during all of the grandkids crazy week-before-finals (or somewhere right around there. really-super-plus busy anyway) and we all had to do a lot of shuffling to be able to be where we needed. and then my grandpa was in the middle of my sisters and cousins finals, and i missed my first big work event to be there (which ended up being okay, but i felt bad) and my cousin had to come from japan and it was dad's birthday (and we were praying jack wouldnt die then, and he didnt!). and no one ever has anything to wear for funerals, ive decided.

i am feeling slightly relieved that things still feels like summer, even though ive been working, and no vacation, really. almost a year ago, i was at the zoo. and that was lovely. and i was driving back through saint louis afterwards. that was a defining experience for me, in a least a couple of ways, and i missed things, but im not sure i would change them. and i wondered if the lions ever showed up. and how the anteater was doing.
also, i was relieved to learn tonight that there is, in fact, duck tape as well as duct tape. i always thought it should be duck, but everyone always told me duct. i like ducks better.
(my nursury was decorated with ducks. ironic, eh? death, marriages, birthdays, anniversarires, births--the whole deal, right here and now. somewhere anyway. this post is like a deluxe pizza, apparently. and i think i shall have a chocolate meringue pie instead of cake, or pizza for that matter. i love that stuff in a way which i do not, and will never, love deluxe pizza. i am a thin-crust,-lots-of-pepperoni-and-cheese girl myself.)
i did learn a great deal about funeral processions, though. it was one of my greatest fears in all my life though, because i was very near the front of the procession and i had to drive and i had my sisters, because my parents rode with my mamaw. and i had no earthly idea where on earth he was going to be buried, and i get lost in that town------so what if i lost the procession!?!?!?! i had like 30 people behind me too, so i was very worried about this. my sisters were just hoping that we would get to run a red light. and we did that too. and most happily--no one got lost! (just think of how you would never hear the end of that!) but it was pretty funny.
this is one of the things that i didnt know you could do before. and also, i dont think i knew that you should pull over if you see one, cause you should. and keep your lights on if youre in one, and keep up! and some walking guys took off their hats when they saw us.. it was very sweet, and respectful of them. this is where the south is nice. i wouldnt mind being like that.

also, i am beginning to understand, maybe, that this do unto others business does not always mean "if you dont want someone to punch you, dont punch them first." it can be much more proactive than that----whoa. if you want someone to be kind to you, be kind. if you want encouragement, encourage. if you want someone to give you their chocolate cookie, share yours first. and so on. thats harder, i think, because its so unlike what we think.

i heard an absolutely halirious story while i was in texas. someday, i will publish this one. it is often a great relief to be moderately funny sometimes.
and, while i was there, my cousin made me three awesome--and i mean awesome--cds, full of good music that i havent heard much of yet. but he didnt label anything at all, so i have no earthly idea what im listening to. ill blame it on the jetlag. he was in japan just a few days before. and you lose/gain practically a whole day, depending on which way youre going, and thats just weird. that is something that i just dont understand.
but i did learn some more about chickens this weekend.
i think when i grow up, i want to live in a house with a single or double digit house number: 15 tiffany court. 6 charles way. 10 maple street. i think that place will be very interesting and conducive to lovely things. as they already are, really. just like a blue moon.

yes, i am interested to see what will happen, dont you think?

Posted 5/31/2007 10:44 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

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.
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the mysteries by david kirby. [this is a poem that changed my life, almost.]
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[ 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.
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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.
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"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"
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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.
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::: wishlisting :::
writing, believe in the gospel, get a job!!!, and a computer, polite. charm. clever.
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love?



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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.
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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[!]
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i need a new job! that pays money.
i am looking.
any ideas?
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"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."
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odd highway numbers--north/south
even highway numbers-- east/west
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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

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

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

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

missinglike

this is not the time to be squeamish about throwing things away. i have all these ambitious thoughts about being such a good packer, and i dont have to leave anything here and all of that. needless to say, i dont think thats going to happen. i am a terrible packer and i like to keep things. i think my goal for the rest of my life is going to have to be throwing away one thing every day that i thought i needed to keep. a few minutes ago, i decided that i should only take home what can fit in my car, but i cant see that working out. 11th grade english has once again come to haunt me--"simplify, simplify, simplify." geh.
oh, i have lots of goals lately. by this time two years from now, i want to have been or on my way to europe. of course, before i do that, ill need a laptop, i think. so i can write things down faster. so theres another goal. [gah, and then theres the question of whether i should get a mac or PC. at this point, im pretty much adapted to either one, so i really really dont know. i am torn.] although, the thought of visiting europe is puzzling--do you go lots of places because its cheap, and youre in europe for heavens sakes, and you ought to go everywhere you can while you can? or do you stay relatively put for a couple of weeks and really get a feel for whichever city you chose? i dont know. i would imagine that i would start out intending to stay in one place and then when i get there i would realize and then go everywhere.

i have my summer reading list all started, and i cant wait to read them. i think i will start ballet lessons again. but i might wait until fall, so i can still take vacations and stuff. maybe i will take a roadtrip. i have been getting a lot of rocks in my flipflops lately. i dont know how that works out. i dont have any scotch tape either. i dont know how that works out. i need to remember that throwing things away is not bad. its good. i need to not be scared of remembering. and i need to remember the right kinds of things. and: if anyone wants to come help me pack, i will not be opposed.

i am so so very afraid of having no friends once i go home. and this time, im stuck there, for at least a while, so its not like i can just be like "o well, no friends for summer. lucky for me i'll have them in the fall again" because im mostly sure i wont be back?, except for here and there. and i know that i will talk to my friends that i already have and stuff and i have my best friends from highschool there, but they are busy and i dont see them that much. there really is just something to be said for people who can keep up and who are on the same wavelength. and are in the same place. so if you want to be my friend in illinois, i will let you and it will be happy. and if you want to be my friend on IM or email or whatever, please feel free.! i will still be happy; im a word girl. and ill probably even talk to you and write back, even if i dont know you. unless you're creepy. then, maybe not so much.
oh, and i will miss my own space. and going places when i want to and if i feel like eating hotfudge for dinner, then eating it for dinner. you just can do those things at home sometimes. and i will miss being alone. i mean, i am alone at home sometimes, but it is a different kind of alone. im not sure i can explain exactly.
now that i have completed 4 years of college, i have everything i need--if i were to come back in the fall, i wouldnt have to buy curtains or hangers or nails or a chair or any of those annoying things that you need and should have and dont at the beginning of every semester. but i dont need them anymore. and thats sad. but i feel dumb getting rid of them because of its mine, and it goes with me. you know?
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 let me just say that i have a thing for boxing. im not sure if i would really like it if i went to go see an actual boxing match or something, but that one book i read about boxing? i loved it. and i watched a movie about it the other day, and it was really lovely too. [i think now would be the time to watch his boxing movie, because now i can appreciate it. boxing, like writing and loving and so many other things, comes from the inside out. you have to keep your eyes open and move quickly. you have to stay on your feet. most of all, you have to watch, with your eyes open and then let it come up from deep inside of you.
"i learned three important things in college: to use a library, to memorize quickly and visually, to drop asleep at any given time given a horizontal surface and fifteen [two?] minutes. what i could not learn was to think creatively on schedule." ah, no matter. i will keep writing, i suppose. and when i get home, im going to start sending out manuscripts.


i dont feel like ive changed enough to leave.
but there will be leaving. i mean, some people come to college and grow up. they know what they want to do and they get married and stuff. im not getting married and i still dont know quite what im doing. i forgot how to write academic papers mostly, and i can almost write poems, but one should never go to into debt to become a poet. [lets just pause and say that i have never known a mr. rogers that i didnt love. this mr. rogers, and probably the last one, changed my life and the way i write and everything.] so, im not really sure what i accomplished, really. i dont feel like im done growing, which, of course, im not. but i wish i felt a little more comfortable and settled with how im turning out. theres so much i want to be and do and see and write and tell.

if i have left you without saying goodbye, its because i dont know what to say, and i hate to cry. not because i dont want to. and this ways its more like see you later. and thats happier. and really, i dont know what to say. i feel like there are so many things i should say, but i dont know what they are.

i want chocolate milk and waffle house and i want to cuddle and watch a good movie. and i didnt mean for this to be all weird or whatever. im not terriblyterribly sad, per se, [just a little] but mostly just unsure and kindof wobbly. and something clever will come soon, maybe?

yes, i will miss this. and you.

Posted 5/19/2006 2:55 PM

Monday, October 22, 2007

the most talented jugglers

[ sad, romantic, gross.
what more do you need?
[besides a ham and cheese.] ]

yesterday, i went to a "business"ish dinner. and sometimes these dinners are not so business-y and then they are pretty fun but yesterday i felt like a real adult and i dont know how im going to acutally survive, cause it was soo boring. and they were all in suits and stuff, and i was in blue jeans and sparkly shoes. o well. no one could see my pants when i sat down, i suppose. but by the rule of 14, which is this clever little thing that i found from like 1950 to tell you if you are appropriately dressed [under 7--underdressed. 7-14--approrriately dressed; higher for dressier of course and over 14 points means that you are overdressed. and it tells you all how to count it up and everything] but anyway, if you go by that, i was fine because i had 9 points. so ha.
but anyway, it was so boring, except when my little end of table just talked amongst ourselves. i sat by interesting people, who were talktoable, which i love when you can really talk to people about whatever you want--love, people, God, weirdest stories ever, and whatever eles. [and i love it when they are imperfect, too] and its the thing to do to ensure survival, i guess. i liked that part. and there was good food, that i didnt have to pay for. i also liked that part, muchly.

i was surprised again today about how much things come back to the simplest of things: captain crunch cereal [my second favorite.]. grammar [necessary, good.]. love [people, things.] and stuff like that.

[ every person i get to meet
a country of rivers
and extravagant palaces ]

so ive been thinking that human beings are pretty much amazing when you think about it because we do so much, and we keep track of so much. example: last time i looked [which was a while ago, admittedly, because i just dont care about facebook, really.] i had something like 200ish friends altogether. [and im sure thats on the low end of number of facebook friends for people. i dont even do anything with facebook.] so, maybe i have more friends now, even. this means that i have some sort of relationship with all of them. and i can keep all of that straight in my head: i know who i like better, and who its okay to talk to when im upset, and who likes certain types of movies and what peoples majors and middle names and hometowns are and all of the conversations ive had with that person and everything that comes along with knowing someone. and thats only the people on facebook! theres all the xanga people that ive met and havent met that i have relationships, of sorts with, and then theres all the friends of friends that i know and know of and all the people in real life [with neither xangas or facebooks or anything] that are just regular adults and then my actually good real friends and then doctors and dentists and all of my relatives and grandparents friends, and people that knew me when i was a baby and parents college friends and their children and the kroger boys who work at night that i see frequentlyish, and the people that i interview for newspaper and such, and professors, and classmates and neighbors and just those people that you know for who knows why.
[and then theres all that other stuff in our brains too, like facts and directions and just things that we dont even think about.]
i mean, i might know 1500 people or more! and i have a unique history with each one of them. and i probably dont even know that many people.
and that is amazing unto me.
and if every single person is a bowling pin or something, then we
are the most talented jugglers the circuses will ever hope to see.

i am unsettled, i think. and things still happen, whether im ready for them or not. and some things are just weird.
but hugs are good and so is nose smushing and cookie mush. these are my favoritest things lately, you know.

my professor said today that we must rehearse until it looks like we havent rehearsed at all and its completely spontaneous.
maybe its that way with prayer and writing and trusting and loving too? its hard to say, but maybe.

there is more, but not right now.

currently playing: joseph arthur // honey and the moon

Posted 3/28/2006 8:02 PM -

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.
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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!
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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.
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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

the courage to be imperfect.

so, the womens fashion industry is rather completely illogical.

{[one of] the proof[s]:} so last week, i was getting ready to go home to go to this wedding, and im freaking out because i have nothing to wear, of course [because at this stage in my life, i shop rather from event to event rather then having set and defined wardrobe possibilities and going from there.] and im freaking out, at least a little because its a goodfriend from highschool and college's wedding, so who even knows who all will be there, [probably everyone] so i probably ought to look at least decently alright, just on principle. so i piddle around stores for ages and ages and finally i found this great navy dress--and its great!, and a pretty good deal and great--and so i bought it, and looked at accessories for a minute, found a $8 handbag that i could modify to be really cute, and it went with the dress, and the shoes i thought i might wear that i already owned. so i was set, with time to spare. and i called my mother to share the good news, and she said that i absolutely couldnt wear burgendy shoes with navy. ladies didnt do that, we wear navy shoes with navy clothes. i told her that i had been shopping for like a week and there were no navy shoes in the entire city, and i made her ask the ladies who were at our house when i called what color shoes they suggested, and they all said navy. i said thats silly, what i have looks great. but then the ladies said they were going to bring me all their navy shoes so i could see them [i think i have a talent for letting everyone share in all my disasters with me. see list below]. so i get home and i look at them and they are all hideous, and old women shoes, and i said this wont do at all. im wearing burgendy shoes. and my father said i will not allow you to go out of the house like that, you'll look ridiculous. and i said but daddy you wear budgendy shoes when you wear a blue suit. im wearing them. the end.
but then, they decided that i should go look at one more shoe place just in case, but i had to go in the morning when they opened. i was there right when they opened, and there were no navy shoes of course, and then i saw 3 people from highschool working there and then i locked my keys in my car and i wasnt even dressed yet, and i only had like half an hour to the wedding, and daddy had to come rescue me and i had to runrunrun to finish getting ready in 4 minutes, and i wore the burgendy ones. and i looked pretty or something.
and then the next day at church, daddy wore a navy suit and he wore burgendy shoes. and i said see.

so the point is that if one clothes company is going to make something so specific as navy or fuschia or whatever, then maybe they should check to see that there is something to go with it. and also, there should be a book or something that has all the possibilities for coordination with each color. so that way, a girl would know once and for all if it is permissible to wear, for example, gold or silver or pearls with said navy, and what shoes really do match. and all of that without having to consult mother and mothers friends and roommates and sister and sisters roommates and random women in the store, and the store clerks everytime you want to wear something. it would really save a lot of time. {end proof.}

although, let me just say that im beginning to be impressed with my sewing skills. i have no sewing skills to speak of, actually, but this is the second dress that i have bought because i have loved it, but it didnt fit quite right somewhere. so i altered them.[!] and you cant even tell! be impressed, cause i sure am.

in other news, and im not even that great with grammar and spelling and such, [goodness, today i cant spell to save my life.] but here is one thing that i have recently noticed that really is obnoxious [not like i cant stand it, because i have a superhigh tolerence level, but still!]: when someone is talking or writing [actually, this seems to happen on IM a lot] and they leave out the verb, but include the subject, which is very often the understood you. so it goes from: "are you going to watch that movie on TV tonight?" to "you going to watch that movie on TV tonight?" and im not entirely sure why, but goodness, that really grates on my nerves. they should just type out the whole thing. come on, its three more letters. but i mean, if they are going to be lazy enough to leave out the are, then they should also be lazy enough to leave out the you, making the sentence read "going to watch that movie on TV tonight?" which is perfectly understandable and nice just as it is. also, it shows a certain amount of confidence in the reader, because you, then, are assuming that they can understand that yes, they are being referred to in that understood kind of sense. gah. and maybemaybe thats just personal preference, and its really perfectly correct. but i dont know.
but of course, i need to brush up on my sentences, because i keep ending my sentences with them on accident.

the world is funny. on my way home, i saw a buffalo herd in alamo, TN, and a giant truck full of pigs, and a hugehuge statue of an elephant, and then a couple hours later, theres one of a chicken. and then theres this "lady of the snows" shrine somewhere, and i havent seen it, but theres all of these signs for it all the time, and i really want to go see it, cause what even is that? its weird and stuff. if i was going to be a lady of something, i wouldnt pick snow. and i pass practically right under the st.louis arch, and i know how it works, but its just crazy that it really does. and people are funny.
and then theres a its funny how we surprise each other; its funny how i surprise myself. i keep learning these new things about how i am, and operate, and such, and i keep being surprised, but i dont know why cause its just the same as i used to be too.
and apparently people are not like me. and i realized this, of course, and everyone is different, and i knew that, but i thought that some things, at least, were universal, but apparently not. that surprises me. and it surprises me which things are universal for real instead. but im not sure if this makes sense.
also, sometimes i drive myself crazy. but sometimes i like me too. most days its a mix.

i feel behind today. probably because i am. thursdays are happy days, because even if you are behind, soon you can catch up. and i get so mad at myself that when theres a lot to do, i flip out and just sit, or run around in circles. both of which are stupid and nonhelpful and irritating. thank heavens for my roommate, who told me one thing at a time. which is, of course, exactly what i need to remember.! i actually need to buy a timer, too. and also, that there are more important things than school, and dying and everything. goodness, how many things are important to me that i forget about on a daily basis.
so im going to make browines today. that will help, probably. and! apparently though, i look like i need hugs, cause ive gotten a lot lately, for no apparent reason. [sometimes boys are just sweet. sometimes obnoxious as heck, etc.etc. but sometimes they are so sweet.] and im not complaining; ill take them, the hugs, i mean.

heres a happy thought for a rainy day [courtesy of AIM]:
me: i dont think you'll melt ;)
him: i hope not
me: it would be tragical i think, and a really weirdo way to die
him: i believe so
me: could they bury you? or if you melted, would you leave a puddle behind, or would it be more along the disolving lines?
him: i doubt it. i'd probably leave a puddle, but if it was raining hard, i think it would all wash away
me: oh, that would be sadder
me: but then!
me: you would evaporate, and then you could go to china or soemthing
me: or someone would drink you chemically distilled and such, if they even do that over there.

[i told my mother something like that just the other day. she did not find it as amusing as i did.] but it sortof reminds me of the steadfast tin soldier, somehow. which is, of course, one of my most favoritest stories. mmm, stories. its snuggly weather, i think.

today smells of evergreens, and rain and the faint remnants of chinese takeout.
my sheets smell of baby lotion, the botanical kind which smells goodgood, cause i accidently left it open after i used it, and then it spilled.

i mostly refuse to say things like: "im so random." and similar phrases. for other people to claim it for you is one thing, but to say it yourself? that is nonhelpful, maybe not true and telling. show dont tell! [plus, its just irritating.] tell me something real about you--be more clever, and honest about yourself, please. and also, what if you arent? i had a roommate one time who said this constantly. but in all actuality, she was the most predictable person ever. i knew what was going to come out of her mouth next at any given moment almost, and im not even very observant. thats probably where my irritation came from. this happens with other phrases too: "you'll just have to come read to see how awesome i am." and the like. please.
but it might be like my shoes: i know im not cool enough for real converses or whatever, so i make a point not to wear them. but i have some very fake ones from target, because sometimes you jsut want to be emo-ish or whateverwhatever, you know. but if no one else knows its fake, does it count, or do they just think im pathetic cause they too know im not that cool?
sometimes i feel funny because sometimes i do things that i want to be or wish that i did, instead of things that i actually am right here and now. i dont know if im just hoping that it will help me be more of what i hope that to become, or what. is that cheating, or lying or something? i dont know if this even makes sense, but im just saying.

we are supposed to be girls, not human interest pieces. [--molly, age 9. ]

i am learning how to be a girl--a real girl.
nevermind the extra 4 pounds, nevermind whether my shoes match exactly, nevermind the rest of it too, because it is not blessed are you if you do these things. nope. i need to remember this muchly.
but also, that doesnt mean that i have to give up the other parts of me--all those apparently quirky things that make me me. the interesting and clever and pretty and obnoxious and mean and the 4 pounds and everything --because it all goes together! [if we could just figure out how.] and that is a clever thing. so i am working on learning how to work with myself, rather than against myself, maybe?
maybe one of the keys is balancing everything until it completes the whole. it is hard, but it might be lovely. in fact, i think it will be, but pretty much not until laterlaterlater.
so much more to say about this. maybe not now.
maybe its something like "beauty in the breakdown.":
it takes a certain amount of courage to be imperfect.

Posted 3/9/2006 3:53 PM -

"breaking into light"

this was a thinking weekend. starting on thursday when i reorganized at least some of the stockroom at work. you can do a lot of thinking when youre moving dusty boxes around. well, i thought a lot of "how on earth does the stockroom look this bad to begin with?!?!?!" and "theres no where in this whole room to put 48 more boxes of 'rooster with frog, and view' figureines whatsoever" and that was obnoxious, but in between those times i thought of this:
a very long time ago there was a quiz floating around on the internet, and one of the questions was about which fictional characters you would marry. i, of course, do not do internet quizzes very often or maybe never but that question stuck in my head for whatever reason, and then the recent gilmore girls phase [seriously, im getting addicted, and it might be bad. im flipping out about it, mostly; i cant believe what happened last time, really. ok, yeah, pathetic. pathetic, but addicting.] in my life has brought one point into clear focus: luke danes is on that list. so i was thinking about other fictional characters that would make the list and here it is along with location, and in no order whatsoever:
1. luke danes / gilmore girls
2. mr. darcy / pride and prejudice
3. kermit the frog / the muppets
4. ethan hawley / the winter of our discontent
5. gilbert blythe / the anne books & movies
6. nick carraway / the great gatsby
7. corey matthews / boy meets world
8. david eggers / a heartbreaking work of staggering genius

and then, on friday, i was piddling, and i was wandering around everywhere, cause it seems like the thing to do on fridays mostly, at least sometimes, and i thought of what a good strategy it is to wait until you are soooooo hungry to eat things, and then eat just what you want. i did that mostly on accident, cause i was out and about and such, but i didnt eat till like 10pm, but i had decided at about 7 or so that i wanted spaghetti. and then about 730, i decided i might be still hungry if i had just spaghetti, so i should have some cookies for dessert, and i was getting hungry, so i just thought and thought about my spaghetti, and cookies, amonst other stuff, and when i finally got to eat it, it was absolutely the best spaghetti and cookies that i had had nearly all week. amazing. and that is a point, i think.

plus also, i thought of

i am me.

i have strawberryblonde hair, wear a size 6.5 [which they dont make, by the way] and i like hotfudgesundaes. i read books, and love to sleep and laugh and i like pencils and only inky pens and the smell of old books. i am fragile and special and beautiful and clever and things like this. i am also moody and crazy and obnoxious and stuff like that. this is how girls are, and how boys are too, and everybody. but me too. and its ok to be me--just me, and nothing else--because i am me. and everyone sometimes-always gets the crazy idea that its better to be a slightly better, more spruced-up version of the current "me" of whoever they are then and there, and so they do that instead, and thats silly. but i do it to, but i shouldnt. of course, the lucky thing about being me is:

i had a little tea party,
this afternoon at three;
'twas very small,
three guests in all,
just i, myself, and me.
myself ate up the sandwhiches,
while i drank up the tea,
'twas also i
who ate the pie
and passed the cake to me.

also, i love to be read to. i reallyreally do. anything and everything.

and i need to follow my instincts. i have good instincts, maybe-possibly.
and i wish i knew how to dance lots better [thats on the to-do list for life, umhum.]. i decided that maybe dancing is like learning a language, and you can probably only learn it by doing it. i bet a lot of things are that way, hrm.

and on saturday, i saw some ducks. i think i like ducks. my mother and father decorated my nursury in ducks, so maybe its leftover from that or something, but they are funny to watch and happy. and they quack. but i didnt hear them quack because they were sleeping. quack is a very funny sound. i wanted to feed them too, but i didnt. they were sleeping.
and now i want to read make way for ducklings. actually, i want it to be read to me. mmm.
once i knew a girl who had a duck for a pet. they went on walks and stuff and she gave him baths and i think that when i am the aunt-lady-down-the-street who makes cookies and is crazy and scribbling down everything that people ever say thats clever and possibly saying my own clever things and writing them down too, but making money for those, i will obtain a duck. and i will name him something exceptionally witty [i wondered the whole time what the ducks names were that i saw, but there wasnt a sign.] but i dont know what yet. i would probably even build him a pond in my yard. and he will be my duck; and my duck, my fish and my house and i will be happy living there very snugly. im excited about this.

also, i think i decided that memphis is a great town. i like it. [this week, i am decidedly going to see the civil rights museum. im not feeling brave, so im not going to go tomorrow, i dont think. but i am still going this week because its martinlutherkingjuniors birthday, and im reading a book about him, but not actually because its his birthday. i started in october, see, but im not done yet. and i might go to a bluegrass concert there too. yay.] well, actually, i decided that i love cities in general [again] and memphis was the closest one. i like cities: i like busy, i like crowded, i like things to do, i like people. [i made friends with a nine-year-old girl, and we found out that our favorite icecream is chocolate absolutely, but sometimes strawberry too, cause its pink.] [i really, eversomuch wanted to know all of the stories of the people all around.] i decided that when it was warmer i would come back to memphis and fall asleep with the rush and the smells and the sounds and the bridges [oh, i like bridges] all around me and it would be wonderful. but then i remembered that i might get murdered [or at least kidnapped. i am not kidnapped, or dead, actually, as of yet, but i might be if i did that], and i didnt think that either one of those was a fun idea, so i probably wont. but i want to.
i squinted my eyes at the lights a lot, and it was eversopretty.
it reminded me of this poem called naming the stars, which was the actual poem of the day a little while ago. and even though i looked at lights more than stars [i did look at the moon though] it reminded me, and i like it and its pretty:

This present tragedy will eventually
turn into myth, and in the mist
of that later telling the bell tolling
now will be a symbol, or, at least,
a sign of something long since lost.
This will be another one of those
loose changes, the rearrangement of
hearts, just parts of old lives
patched together, gathered into
a dim constellation, small consolation.
Look, we will say, you can almost see
the outline there: her fingertips
touching his, the faint fusion
of two bodies breaking into light.

if i was an artist, i would use charcoal. i like it. im surprised about that, because originally, i thought i would have been more of a painting sort of girl [i love bob ross after all]. and i like to look at paint still, but for using, i like charcoal. i like the in-the-middle-of look that charcoal can have. i also like sketches. this is a good work, also suggesting in the middleness. middle is good because its is more common than beginning or end. middle is the most familiar maybe, probably.
maybe i will use charcoal to write poetry.
life is poetry, mostly. or maybe a tragic, halirious novel, or most probably both all at once.

Posted 1/16/2006 12:39 AM

Saturday, October 13, 2007

i heart my grandcat.

right, so. when i was driving somwhere [in nashville, most likely, so it probably figures] there was a car, and the car had a bumpersticker that said:

i heart my grandcat.

firstly, that just made me giggle, because that is just osovery funny sounding. but then i started thinking about it and i got confused because what does that even mean? did the lady's cat have baby cats? does her grandchild have a cat? does her child have a cat that they treat like an actual child? is it someone who has a cat for a grandmother? does the person just call their grandmother "cat"? i dont even know, but any way you go, its weird. and i dont even understand that. people should work on being clear when they talk about things like that. and other things too, i suppose.
and heres another one. well, first of all i decided several things about christmas music. 1) i decided that christmas music is very much like catholic things. catholic people all hear the very same sermon every single week, apparently, and at christmas, every single place you ever even go to is playing all the same music and all the radio stations too. so thats pretty crazy. 2) that i do indeed have a limit about how much christmas music i want to hear. maybe it is different if its the really great versions of all the songs [i really do think that there are standards and classics for these things. not all christmas music is equal, you know. for example, at work there is one version of "white christmas" that they play and its bing crosby singing it, and that is one of the classic ones but they put him singing it over some hideous sounding techno mix or something like that. ket me assure you that the effect is simply unbearable.] right, but i thought i could mostly listen to christmas music for a really long time [during the christmas season, of course,] because its so...great, and classic and it just makes you want to drink hot chocolate and snuggle up or something. but mostly, i was wrong, i guess. after 7 hours in a row of mostly awful christmas music, i am perfectly content to listen to something else for the whole rest of the day.

bother, i had all kinds of things to say when i started writing, and im forgetting them. this is a problem, because i need to remember all the things to write down that i can. [see, i really dont think i can write things when i grow up. i have no plots in my head evereverever, just a whole lot of terrribly interesting people with terribly interesting quirks.] im all kinds of forgetful lately, too. i forget to eat, and sleep, and where i put my keys. and they were lost for a whole 2 days, which gets a smidgin inconvient, let me tell you and i had to hop through my window a whole bunch of times, but then i found them, of course in a spot where i had looked 2934 times already.
oh. i remember what i was saying about christmas music. there is this one song that they played 35 times [because there are only so many of them, you know, so you get a lot of repeats] that said something about how "christmastime is here all over the world" and i couldnt even decide if thats true or not, because what i dont know is whether or not its christmas in places they dont even celebrate christmas. like in africa. the whole continent is probably celebrating kwanza or however you spell it, and consequently, it wouldnt be christmas. but then again, is christmas, or anything really, dependent on whether people believe that it is happening? or maybe that only works with some things--like gravity happens regardless of whether someone thinks it does or doesnt--instead of about everything. who even knows. but the point is, they should be clear about that.

i wishwishwish i was not so completely bumbling and ungracious. and i wish i knew what to say. i never know what to say. wouldnt it be nice if we could keep all the things we like about ourselves [because there are a few things here and there, im sure] and get rid of all the things we dont like [because there are some of those too.] wouldnt it be interesting to see if people kept and got rid of the same things in each other. probably so. and probably it would cause some problems too. i dont know.
we were debating the correct pronunciation of "contemplative" the other day [thanks to mamaT, of course. and hey, we did the first day of that today, and i dont even think it was awful. but i probably talked like crazy fast, but its alright.], and we came to the conclusion that we didnt even know how to say it, and i didnt even have a dictionary, so i couldnt look it up, [which is a quirk of my own, i do like to look things up in a good dictionary, which reminds me, im supposed to be learning one new word everyday, for the sole reason of being a genius at scrabble when i grow up, but i keep forgetting. but i think being a genius at scrabble is a new goal of mine.]
but i should be more contemplative, anyway, is the point of that. and i have been, i think, lately contemplating more, and tonight when i was running errands, i made a very conscious effort to be thinkingthinkingthinking the whole entire time instead of zoning out. and then i remembered that i cant run errands and write things down at the same time, so i was doing a whole lot of talking outloud so i could hopefully remember the most important things, which, alas, i cant. but probably i will remember them in about 2 days at some really awkward point in the day. so im sure i looked very funny too, when i was walking around places. but o well. i didnt even see anyone i know, except for 2 people, and thats practically a record anymore. i havent even had that much time to hang out this semester [and i miss it!], but i hardly even need to because i have just been running into people like crazy everywhere i ever go. and that makes me scared for when i grow up how many people im going to run into all the time. and also, its funny to think of all the people that you know and how many that is, and how many you will know in your whole life. thats probably a whole lot of people. and that makes my head dizzy. [i think i sound like a hippie in this paragraph probably. i am interested in hippie things lately apparently, and with going with the flow and last night at work i got the "flowerchild" award, which was sortof random. but more about this later, probably] but at any rate, i like people [except for when they pretend to be world-destroying aliens, and various things of that sort], and im curious about them and im glad for them, except for sometimes. and im glad i am one mostly. i decided that.

currently playing: ain't nothing like the real thing, baby

Posted 12/5/2005 3:44 PM

»» a succession of confessions: «

[i have been wondering about catholic people lately. mostly because of mother teresa, you know. confession#1: catholic people confuse me on several points. but thats besides the point strictly at hand; confessions seemed appropriate in spite of my confusion.]

» i lovelovelove to read magazines. i have read practically every word that counts of every magazine in our room, and i hate it when they call me quickly at the dentist, cause then i didnt have time to read all of the last issue of good housekeeping, or whatever [usually at the dentists, you get stuck with strictly womens magazines, or parenting, or ESPN. there is no middle ground with dentists, and they dont believe in target audiences like little kids, teenage girls, or anything else, and they hardly believe in anything interesting. but its alright. i dont mind good housekeeping too much, really. yeah, i like it actually].
if i had more time, i would read more magazines [i would read more books too. i should do that anyway. [oooh, and write more] books dont make you feel fat, anyway, and thats one thing in their favor. one feels inherently more fat after you read a magazine, at least a decent magazine. but i still like it muchly anyway, and i just go get a hotfudgesundae to make myself feel better about feeling fat.]

» i forget things that i should already know. like last night there was a ring around the moon and it was big and bright and clear and wonderful. and we looked it up one time about why it does that, but i forgot why. and also the other night when it looked like the moon was being pulled along o-so-quickly by mars, i think. and i felt like i should run after it, lest i lose it, and the moon would be lost forever. when i got home, i was telling my roommates about it and they were like "the clouds were moving, not the moon, stupid." and i really had forgotten that. i was amazed about the moon moving that fast. but they burst my bubble, but i'll survive and i love them still just the same [both the moon and the roommates, actually]. and i forget how to spell gandhi. ghandi? ganhdi? gandhi? gahndi? i forget. and my tornadobuddy, ben, said that maybe it was spelled like ghanna, the country, with the h in the front like ghandi but i said no silly, ghanna the country and gandhi the person arent the same thing, but maybe he was right after all? [he is the guy that said "this, too, will pass. just like a swallowed quarter" and thats pretty smart.] but i have no idea, i forget. and also, i forget if gandhi ever wore a hat.

» also, i forget to breathe sometimes, especially when i talk my head off, which i have certainly been doing lately. i had a pretty good set of less talkative days [3 in a row!] this weekend, but then on monday i decided to talk my head off again. and yesterday i caught myself 3--three!--times and had to tell myself that really, it is necessary to breathe when i talk, and to put space in between my words. and you know that if i catch myself doing that, then its really awful. and also: its possible that i ask too many questions.

» sometimes, i forget how to sit in one spot. i run around in circles. and im restless, and want to cut my hair, and things like that. and i do stupid things, and i feel bad, and i beat myself up and stuff. but theres no need. cause regrets dont help, and neither does fretting, or feeling bad or worrying, or much anything else [well, a few things do, of course: laughing, hotfudge, friends, sleep, impulse buying [o goodness, i think im turning into an impulse buyer. but i think thats genetic?] and things like this. but sometimes you cant have these things right away, and you still just have to be a grown-up lady [-in-training.]
and thats hard work, but good, necessary work. theres a new day tomorrow; what a pleasant thought.

» i only sortof like mint chocolate chip icecream, and i feel bad, cause i think that i think that everyone is supposed to love that kind. and i like it, but i wouldnt pick it if i had the choice. if i had the choice [at a baskin-robbins type place, because i pick different things at different places. or based on mood. im a very mood oriented chooser. with my music, and food, and books, what i wear [!] and all kinds of things. its kind of obnoxious, cause i never know exactly what i'll feel like, so it makes it hard to be prepared [i should have been a boyscout. or something]. thank heavens there are a [precious] few favorites that are pretty much standard, and that i am a pretty much easy-going person, even when i dont get exactly what i want, cause usually if i want it and dont get it, ill still want it tomorrow, so theres a good chance to get it. its not like i would have missed my one opportunity for it. also: i am a good person to eat with [especially at a mexican resturant] because i like the small, broken chips, and i dont want the chunky parts in the salsa. but im also a bad person to eat with because i take small bites regardless of when or what i eat. but o well, such is life. i am also not a person who eats one thing at a time. i like to mix it up.] anyway [!] if i had the choice between mintchocolatechip and something else, i would pick rockyroad. i like that stuff. but thats probably genetic too.

» usually im pretty good about remaining calm, but sometimes i really do forget how to just "go with the flow, man" and how to let things just simmer up out of me. i try to rush, and hurry, and all of that, but simmering and bubbling over is the best way, decidedly.
i think i just need to listen to more hippie music.

Posted 11/15/2005 8:25 PM