i got my job back today. i was going to work at somewhere else, but then that didnt work, and i was unhappy, because i need to work, and because they told me that i could work there. and so for about 30 hours i was very irritated and mad because as much as i like to not work, i want to work too. i feel all accomplished when i do, and i like that. and i get paid. its not a bad deal. and i thought to myself that i just needed to sloowww down, and practice trusting God for just one or five minutes, because hes probably going to take care of me just like always, but i kept forgetting, and i was bad at it. but then He did, i think, and i have the job back that i left here waiting for me, and they fixed all, or at least some of the things i didnt like about it. but my favorite stock guy left cause so i wont have anyone to talk to sometimes, but my favorite manager and mother-y lady are still there, so im terribly happy about that.
also: let me just annouce that i can make good peanut butter and jelly sandwiches even if i cant make french toast. i tried to make french toast yesterday because i wanted it ever so much, but i think i failed. its on my list to practice. but it probably has to wait in line. when i came to college i lost a few of those cooking skills for who knows why. but i think they're coming back? heres hoping anyway.
i found my lucy ricardo shoes today when i was putting up shoes. i forgot i had them almost, but i think i love them muchly, i [re]decided that today. just because they are halirious. if my pants were slightly shorter, then i could probably even be just like her, cause my hair is red[ish]. except for im not that funny. im probably decently funny, when i write, once in a blue moon [hey, i think those things actually really exist, but ive never even seen one], but thats all. goodness, i do love i love lucy muchly. very halirious.
well, i probably couldnt be her at all, but i do like these shoes muchly, for unexplainable reasons.
i had lots more things to say, i feel rather sure, but i cant seem to remember them at present because i have been neglecting my notebooks as of late, because i dont even know why because ive been thinking all kinds of things that should be written down. so when i think of them again, ill write them down. tomorrow i will write at least 5 pages down in that thing, i decided, because i have neglected it soo muchly. although that will take a whole lot of discipline, because 5 pages can be a whole lot longer than it is initally, even though they arent even full pages. but it must be done, so that is that.
it is rather obnoxious to forget things, especially things you want to remember.
oh, i know. i found out that in biology our teacher [who was in the military and spent most of his time in guam and consequently told stories about that all the time] skipped a very important chapter in the textbook. consequently, the other day, when my roommate [who was trying to study so she decided to do it outloud cause i was probably talking, i dont remember, but its likely. i dont think she likes it when i talk to her a lot sometimes, well, actually just when she studies. but sometimes she does like it, and she even talks back. its really clever.] anyway, she was reading to me out of her developmental psych book and it was telling all about how when they are 3 weeks old babies have the beginnings of a brain and when they were 4 weeks old there was a heartbeat. and i was just totally in awe, because that doesnt even make any sense how that could be there, because it wasnt there before. and then i found out that they were cells. and that all they did was divide and then just like that there was a heart. and a nervous system and all kinds of normal people things. i mean, when i think of cells dividing, i think of bacteria. or cancer. yes. not babies. i dont know how i thought it happened before, and i dont know why i didnt know, really. no one ever explained to me the exact details about the cells, and i guess i didnt think about it, and mr. science teacher was too wrapped up in guam to explain such mysteries. but i was really just impressed about how clever God is. and how crazy it is that stuff like, oh i dont know, life works.
it reminded me this summer of when my moms friend got to explain to me all about how chicken eggs work. i had no idea, really. and poor thing, she did such a good, tactful job, and told me just enough to satisfy the curiousity but left enough to my imagination that if i went to look it up for real, i might learn one or two things more. it was also very funny. but i think my mother and i laughed more than she did; she probably didnt laugh very much. but she has chickens on her farm, so she knew all about it, and [i dont think?] she didnt mind explaining it to me, although i think my mother would have rathered me look it up or something, because it may not have been of general interest. oh well. there are times when things of general interest just doesnt need to happen, [although no prepositions at the end of sentences always needs to happen, gah. i think my grammar is slipping in my old age. and did i mention that i was half published for real the other day, and it was ever so exciting. and also, i was soo excited to be an english major when i was watching that movie down there and i loved it and i felt so literate and stuff cause i knew exactly what was going on because i have read--really read [for class, admittedly. im not that much of an english person]--the iliad and the odyssey and an i was all like oooh. i love that guy homer. he was an absolute[!] genuis. i do like smart men.] but anyway, sometimes general interest is useless and ungeneral interest happens. and then sometimes you end up talking about things and you arent really sure why and its weird and funny but good. just good. and thats all there is to that.
currently watching: o brother, where art thou?
Posted 1/10/2006 1:56 AM -
Monday, October 22, 2007
heres something new:
heres something new: i think my official favorite boy spot is officially open. and that is sooo crazy, because that hasnt even happened for about 2 years or something, and i dont know why its happening now, except i just woke up on tuesday morning and whatever weirdo thing in my head that told me the first favorite boy [we will call him A]was the favorite boy told me that he wasnt quite the absolute favorite anymore. that boy is still in the top 3ish, but i dont know. see, its all a mess. this other boy [who used to be favorite number 3; we'll call him B] probably moved up a few notches. to maybe about 1.5. [but he is not the number one favorite boy; he is simply not first. hes 1.5] but B my second favorite person with that name. and then A, the previous number 1 favorite, is about 3/4 of the way behind that boy, but theres another boy [C] that might be an almost favorite, and theres another one thats another almost favorite too. and C about half behind B, but about 2/3 ahead of A. and i dont know where D is, really. if someone can tell me how that all works out cause i dont know, you can be the favorite boy [or girl] for like an hour or 5 hours or something [well, actually, time for favorite girls is rarely, if ever, limited. once youre that, you pretty much are that forever]. and being the favorite boy for long times doesnt happen very often; favorite boys for 5 minutes are more likely, you know. its all very confusing, however [!], im not even very worried about it, cause probably in about 2 days or something, ill probably wake up and figure it out. cause those things just come to me, i think. lucky for me--cause how could i decide something so important as the favorite boy list? too much pressure. its nicer this way, when i dont decide it by myself. and i know it sounds crazy, but it happens like that with some things. like when i write stuff sometimes, and stuff. i dont know. maybe ill give up favorite boys altogether. but i dont think thats a good idea. i think one of my favorite places at night is also terribly frusterating. i think the middle of missouri, rather close to the mississippi river, has some of the prettiest stars ever cause they are visible, and you can see them sovery well. but i can neverever see them because if im in the middle of missouri near the mississippi river, im driving. and its not very safe to look at stars and drive, you know. so someday, when i have nothing to do, i think ill just drive out there, and sit and look at them. cause theres so many more than here. although, it does seem like a shame to go look without knowing what they all are. i need to learn my constallations most likely. i dont know why they dont teach you those things in school. it seems like a perfectly useless thing to know, which is what they usually teach you, but it would be very lovely to know them all. the thing about them is that all the stars look the same sometimes, so its hard to tell. but i do know about 3 of them. maybe ill work on learning the rest. one time, somebody tried to point out that "hey, those 3 stars up there make a triangle." i laughed at that one. heh, work on learning constillations and all my other 48324987342 resolutions. i have far too many. i always overwhelm myself with goals, and then never do any of them. its a problem. here are some: to not waste time. to learn to dance. to be published somewhere besides lifeway sometime. to be more disciplined. to read a lot of things. to pray more. to love more. to stand up straight. to have prettier hands. to eat healthy. to remain organized for more than 10 minutes in a row. to laugh. to talk. to be outside more. to live. to grow. and ever so many more.i dont want to be ugly when i grow up. and i mean that in the most superficial and the deepest way possible, and also in neither of those ways. well, i dont really know what i mean. you know. but i am content with me, when all is said and done, i think. at least sortof. not content in the finished sense, but in the other kind, where you feel like things are how they should be at this moment. and in a minute things can change, and you will cry or laugh or who knows what, and you will grow and go backward a little and you might be different tomorrow, but maybe not and its all ok. and things are good. and they will be tomorrow, too, because He is good. and there are things to be done [!], and im ready to do them. or im ready to try, anyway, i think. and im only a little scared. im ready to go places, and only some of those places are literal.
tomorrow:
i plan to buy a chair.
and i will be happy.
and i will read some books.
and write a poem, and maybe even work.
hopefully.
and i will listen to good music, and i will dance, just a little.
and maybe-hopefully i will get some tacobell and hotfudge.
and i will leave my window open, even at night.
and i will, perhaps, find a constallation chart.
and things will be good.
Posted 1/4/2006 5:03 PM
tomorrow:
i plan to buy a chair.
and i will be happy.
and i will read some books.
and write a poem, and maybe even work.
hopefully.
and i will listen to good music, and i will dance, just a little.
and maybe-hopefully i will get some tacobell and hotfudge.
and i will leave my window open, even at night.
and i will, perhaps, find a constallation chart.
and things will be good.
Posted 1/4/2006 5:03 PM
{ slightly haunted }
i love the bed at my grandparents house that we always sleep in: its rather wonderful in all the best ways. its creaks so nicely, but not when youre sleeping [at least i dont hear it, but that doesnt say too much.] and theres that nice spot where you just roll to, and its rather comfortable. its old, too, but not too old to have many ghosts. just a couple of haunt-y spots. [but i think whenever we get home, ill sleep on my couch in my own dear house. its funny how different places are so different from each other. east tennessee is terribly realistic, texas is day-dreamy. this makes it really weird when something realistic happens in texas, or something day-dreamy in tennessed. but home is [usually] a balanced mix, and school is generally very well balanced, and thats good for me mostly, i think. a good dose of realistic is necessary, and a good dose of daydreams are lovely, but i think that its probably better not to have too much of either, on a very regular basis. a nice mix of both is probably best to have all the time, although some things are not to be always.] i should walk outside more. i have a feeling that im missing lots of terribly beautiful and inspiring moments because im inside, not that inside isnt inspiring, you know. and yesterday we walked down the ghost road. ive been convinced rather all my life that that particular road has been haunted, and i still am. and i voted to walk down the other road, but no one would hear anything of it--it was down that road we were to go, and that was the end of that. goodness. well, reason and broad daylight reminded me soon enough that it wasnt especially haunted in daytime, but ooo im not going to walk there at night [!] i dont know why i think it isisis haunted, really, because im not necessarily sure i believe in ghosts, but this road just looks haunted. full of trees and such, and it doesnt go to any place that i know of. which is something, i think, because most roads seem to go somewhere, even if that somewhere is far away. this road just seems to go right on into nowhere. perhaps therein lies some of the hauntedness. of course, it is easier to believe in ghosts when one reads a lot of l.m. montgomery all at once, and ive been drowning myself in her writing all week. im sure im even writing a bit like her right now, even. egads. but she is rather wonderful. and ive been reading the emily books, after ive been meaning too for probably 10 years, at her suggesstion. very dis/encouraging for a writer too [emily was a writer, and she was good at it, and all of that], but rather wonderful [!] i actually laughed out loud four times, in three books. thats a good ratio. and look at this lovely thing:
"...when it became sadly evident that mr. wallace's calls at new moon had ceased, the reason was eventually discovered. [emily] had told mr. wallace that she could not marry him.
"why?" demanded aunt elizabeth in icy disapproval.
"his ears, aunt elizabeth, his ears," said emily flippantly. "i really couldnt risk having my children inherent ears like that."
i always knew that was a valid reason not to get married. not necessarily a good valid reason, but a valid one nevertheless. [!] oh, but girls, if you want to borrow them in j-term, [when theres lots of time to read, thank heavens,] feel free! they are lovely. also, if i ever get a dog, i mean to get one that i have to keep up with when we go walking, rather than one whom i have to drag along. i disapprove of that, it makes things rather more difficult. [plusalso: i like people who can keep up with me and whom i can keep up with, or be just a little behind and ahead of each other, and that way we can race to keep up with ourselves.] although if i ever get a dog, im sure i have lots of ideals [not licking me all over, and chewing things and such] about it that will not exactly come to pass just as i want them too. i think thats a point of something, i think. maybe i should get a dog. i do get things awfully stuck in my head sometimes. im finding more and more that i set things up in my head just how i want them and then i really am truly perplexed when they arent that way. mostly about the way things and people look, and the names of things, and how people are. o dear. i should probably break that habit, i feel rather sure. perhaps ill have to make resolutions this year. usually i just skip it cause i make rather a lot of resolutions all the time, but maybe some of them will work better if its on new years, like officially and all of that. new years is always a funny thing to think of, how on earth has it gotten around to it again, and what shall happen next and all of that. [but heres a 157 kisses for new years, loves. xxxxx, plus the rest of them] thank goodness i am not in charge, and im eversoglad that i know who is[!] because im probably a mess, i think. and i dont even know what to do about things, or with things, but possibilites are terribly dreadful and exciting things. [!]
Posted 12/30/2005 11:46 AM
"...when it became sadly evident that mr. wallace's calls at new moon had ceased, the reason was eventually discovered. [emily] had told mr. wallace that she could not marry him.
"why?" demanded aunt elizabeth in icy disapproval.
"his ears, aunt elizabeth, his ears," said emily flippantly. "i really couldnt risk having my children inherent ears like that."
i always knew that was a valid reason not to get married. not necessarily a good valid reason, but a valid one nevertheless. [!] oh, but girls, if you want to borrow them in j-term, [when theres lots of time to read, thank heavens,] feel free! they are lovely. also, if i ever get a dog, i mean to get one that i have to keep up with when we go walking, rather than one whom i have to drag along. i disapprove of that, it makes things rather more difficult. [plusalso: i like people who can keep up with me and whom i can keep up with, or be just a little behind and ahead of each other, and that way we can race to keep up with ourselves.] although if i ever get a dog, im sure i have lots of ideals [not licking me all over, and chewing things and such] about it that will not exactly come to pass just as i want them too. i think thats a point of something, i think. maybe i should get a dog. i do get things awfully stuck in my head sometimes. im finding more and more that i set things up in my head just how i want them and then i really am truly perplexed when they arent that way. mostly about the way things and people look, and the names of things, and how people are. o dear. i should probably break that habit, i feel rather sure. perhaps ill have to make resolutions this year. usually i just skip it cause i make rather a lot of resolutions all the time, but maybe some of them will work better if its on new years, like officially and all of that. new years is always a funny thing to think of, how on earth has it gotten around to it again, and what shall happen next and all of that. [but heres a 157 kisses for new years, loves. xxxxx, plus the rest of them] thank goodness i am not in charge, and im eversoglad that i know who is[!] because im probably a mess, i think. and i dont even know what to do about things, or with things, but possibilites are terribly dreadful and exciting things. [!]
Posted 12/30/2005 11:46 AM
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
the world is a confusing place [but full of glorious excerpts [or extras [?]]]
three sets of brackets, gah. my punctuation is getting out of control.
but it took me 12 hours to think of it, minus the 7 i was asleep. so i guess thats even? probably.
* * * * *
"sometimes you feel the world is coming to an end.
and then sometimes you feel the world is just b e g i n n i n g ?"
[umhum. [ old movies are soo sexy.]]
Currently WatchingThe Sound of Music (40th Anniversary Edition)
Posted 12/28/2005 5:29 PM
three sets of brackets, gah. my punctuation is getting out of control.
but it took me 12 hours to think of it, minus the 7 i was asleep. so i guess thats even? probably.
* * * * *
"sometimes you feel the world is coming to an end.
and then sometimes you feel the world is just b e g i n n i n g ?"
[umhum. [ old movies are soo sexy.]]
Currently WatchingThe Sound of Music (40th Anniversary Edition)
Posted 12/28/2005 5:29 PM
[ so, feliz navidad.]
i think the feeling i hate mostest in the whole world is knowing that im not good enough for, oh, whatever. school, or friends or whatever. i guess capable is what i mean. i really hate feeling uncapable.
but anyway, the point of that was that ive been feeling o-so-uncapable for a while now, but now even more and differently and also just ridiculous
because i cant speak spanish except a little, and he [israel, student from ecuador who is studying in texas that daddy met him and his family when he was in ecuador last november, and israel came here for christmas since he couldnt go to home for some reason. i dont know enough spanish to know why not yet.] but he speaks only the smallest amount of english and im very flustered, and uncapable, and its so weird to be that way when im home, because it should be all comfortable here, and it mostly is. but also very uncomfortable.
because even though i suck a mug at spanish [i learned the alphabet in spanish 3 for goodness sakes], i speak it the best out of my whole family [cause i did learn a lot of stuff before the alphabet, i guess, thank heavens], and a lot of other people too. and thats just sad.
also, its very no good. and im getting veryvery good at rearranging things in my head to work with my limited vocabulary. im thinking of a lot of spanish in my head, even when im talking english, so i can try and remember things.
and im trying osohard to function as some sort of translator person. and yes, my spanish has improved a lot in the past week, let me tell you, [!] and so has his english. but its still very bad, and osohard, and most of our conversations [with each other, and when im "translating"--[ha!]-- go like this: [either person can start, in either language:]
"words, words, words"
"repeating what you said?"
"no se. more words said in attempt to clarify."
"que?"
"repeats what we said already."
"oh, no se.[!] repeate, y no rapidimente, porfavor."
"say it again"
"*sigh.* no se. donde esta un dicctionario?"
"aqui"
*making thinking faces and looking up necessary words."
"try again."
"eh?"
"gaaahh! no se, no se."
"gah. muy mal. lo siento."
"si, es muy dificil. no es importante."
"un momento. *looks at dictionary again*."
"some awful mix of spanish and english"
" no comprendo! gaaaaah!"
"gaaaaaaah! no se, no se."
and its very funny and ridiculous and laughing and looking up things and flustered and thinking really hard in another language. and its hard. harder than i would have guessed. i feel stupider more often than i would have expected, or strictly desired. and weird.
if i were somewhere else in a different country or something, i would expect to not be able to communicate and i would revel in how different we all are and how cool sounding that language is, and i wish i could speak it [but i wont bother], and also how im so glad that english is a relatively common language]. but im at my house and i should be able to talk and i cant [at least not to the extent that im used to to everyone] and its weird. and i dont like it and i dont like to feel stupid, and i dont want other people to feel stupid. and its just no good, altogether.
and words are important to me
well, because i like them. and i like it when they are used well, and cringe when they are used badly, and i want to know them and about them, and play with them and make them pretty, and i like to speak them [duh] and hear them ever so much. its practically my favorite. ever, i think. at least almost.
and i like what they accomplish, and how they go about accomplishing things
in that simmer-y way
but anyway, i was just thinking today how absolutely crazy it is that there are so many more words in the world, probably like a thousand other languages worth. like not necessarily in meaning, but in tenses and conjugations and grammar, histories and idioms and dialects, sound and feel and weight.
and i only know like .0000000158 of those words
actually, probably less and that is absolutely crazy
and i never will know them either. and hardly even some of them. and thats so weird. and then theres all the people we wont get to know, and all their stories
theres not enough time and i probably waste the time i do have; i dont love enough, or do enough about it [mamaT again].
cause im stupid, and who even knows why else
i dont know. and then daddy sang that one song with the men's group for christmas music this weekend
i forget what its called.
but whatever. and it said something like "and that Baby, not yet speaking, was the Word of God to man."
and i just thought about how beautiful that was--
[ so, feliz navidad.]
Posted 12/23/2005 12:03 AM -
but anyway, the point of that was that ive been feeling o-so-uncapable for a while now, but now even more and differently and also just ridiculous
because i cant speak spanish except a little, and he [israel, student from ecuador who is studying in texas that daddy met him and his family when he was in ecuador last november, and israel came here for christmas since he couldnt go to home for some reason. i dont know enough spanish to know why not yet.] but he speaks only the smallest amount of english and im very flustered, and uncapable, and its so weird to be that way when im home, because it should be all comfortable here, and it mostly is. but also very uncomfortable.
because even though i suck a mug at spanish [i learned the alphabet in spanish 3 for goodness sakes], i speak it the best out of my whole family [cause i did learn a lot of stuff before the alphabet, i guess, thank heavens], and a lot of other people too. and thats just sad.
also, its very no good. and im getting veryvery good at rearranging things in my head to work with my limited vocabulary. im thinking of a lot of spanish in my head, even when im talking english, so i can try and remember things.
and im trying osohard to function as some sort of translator person. and yes, my spanish has improved a lot in the past week, let me tell you, [!] and so has his english. but its still very bad, and osohard, and most of our conversations [with each other, and when im "translating"--[ha!]-- go like this: [either person can start, in either language:]
"words, words, words"
"repeating what you said?"
"no se. more words said in attempt to clarify."
"que?"
"repeats what we said already."
"oh, no se.[!] repeate, y no rapidimente, porfavor."
"say it again"
"*sigh.* no se. donde esta un dicctionario?"
"aqui"
*making thinking faces and looking up necessary words."
"try again."
"eh?"
"gaaahh! no se, no se."
"gah. muy mal. lo siento."
"si, es muy dificil. no es importante."
"un momento. *looks at dictionary again*."
"some awful mix of spanish and english"
" no comprendo! gaaaaah!"
"gaaaaaaah! no se, no se."
and its very funny and ridiculous and laughing and looking up things and flustered and thinking really hard in another language. and its hard. harder than i would have guessed. i feel stupider more often than i would have expected, or strictly desired. and weird.
if i were somewhere else in a different country or something, i would expect to not be able to communicate and i would revel in how different we all are and how cool sounding that language is, and i wish i could speak it [but i wont bother], and also how im so glad that english is a relatively common language]. but im at my house and i should be able to talk and i cant [at least not to the extent that im used to to everyone] and its weird. and i dont like it and i dont like to feel stupid, and i dont want other people to feel stupid. and its just no good, altogether.
and words are important to me
well, because i like them. and i like it when they are used well, and cringe when they are used badly, and i want to know them and about them, and play with them and make them pretty, and i like to speak them [duh] and hear them ever so much. its practically my favorite. ever, i think. at least almost.
and i like what they accomplish, and how they go about accomplishing things
in that simmer-y way
but anyway, i was just thinking today how absolutely crazy it is that there are so many more words in the world, probably like a thousand other languages worth. like not necessarily in meaning, but in tenses and conjugations and grammar, histories and idioms and dialects, sound and feel and weight.
and i only know like .0000000158 of those words
actually, probably less and that is absolutely crazy
and i never will know them either. and hardly even some of them. and thats so weird. and then theres all the people we wont get to know, and all their stories
theres not enough time and i probably waste the time i do have; i dont love enough, or do enough about it [mamaT again].
cause im stupid, and who even knows why else
i dont know. and then daddy sang that one song with the men's group for christmas music this weekend
i forget what its called.
but whatever. and it said something like "and that Baby, not yet speaking, was the Word of God to man."
and i just thought about how beautiful that was--
[ so, feliz navidad.]
Posted 12/23/2005 12:03 AM -
12.09.05
its funny how just a change in scene or talking with favoritest people can inspire a fresh flow of thoughts. new thoughts are good. umhum. [so--talking my head off.[!]]
consequently, ive been scribbling in my new little notebook [which is awesome, and im so glad i have it. because ive needed it. my regular notebook, which i actually do miss very much despite the coolness of the little one, is easier to write in and nice to hold. but unfortunately, that is one of those things still in the car waiting to be unpacked. im a mess.]
anyway, its so nice to be home among all the nice familiar things and christmas. this weekend was all of the church music stuff, and i dont even know if i can explain why i love that so much. i made everyone go twice [and i would have gone the third time, if could have managed it, but i couldnt.] i dont know why i love it sooo much, really. and its not like im especially in love with all christmas music. i think its the choir, actually. and all the people singing altogether, and everything. really, its one of the few things that makes me tearyish.
also, i miss being in a choir. i like having something to make perfect. i had ballet, and choir and stuff, and now i have writing, but thats harder for some reason. maybe because in choir someone else is responsible for making you sound good, and with writing its all you. but i do enjoy it a very great deal when i feel like i can make something perfect after i write it. not that that happens all that often. i mostly just love those moments where i think i have finally written a line of poetry that works. how rare [!]
i started my first book of the break [my goal is to read 4 over christmas] and i forgot how much i lovelovelove to read for fun. its everso lovely. also: i need to reread the best christmas pagent ever this year, im pretty sure. i think i skipped last year. also, i really like how the Christmas Story is soo famiilar in that way where i almost have it memorized and when someones reading it i can say it along with them and know just whats coming, but i probably couldnt recite it. maybe i could, i dont know. i havent tried. but then still also, its still lovely.
and i just took the contacts out of my eyes for the second time in like a month, or month and a half or something. it feels funny without them.
gah, i want to be good at something. i remembered that this weekend. like i might even want to be an expert at something. or something like that. but it is a comfort to know that i do have some sense about me, at least sometimes. and i do think i have relatively good instincts [if i could just follow them]. like: i usually have a good idea of what to wear to places. and what not to do with necklaces. and how to call the ambulance if necessary, and how to refrain if its not. and other stuff. not too much sense, yet, but there is the smallest hope that someday there will be more.
its funny to notice your own speech patterns. like i know i talk fast, and probably mumble a lot of times, but i dont really know that i am. except for every once in a while i catch myself and im amazed and like wow. that was horrible, and i should talk clearer.
but anyway, lately ive caught myself being very uncommittal, and um-ming a lot, and saying "something" and "stuff." hmm. who even knows why. its probably a phase.
also, i think its so terribly important to know the harmonies to things, because it just sounds prettier that way, so ive been working on it. because i fully intend to be one of those ladies who sits in the back of church and belts out the harmonies [even very badly] to all of these great old songs with my hair up in a bun and pearls and heels, like i know what im singing about [!] cause by that time, lets hope i do. but i want to know what happens if everyone thinks its important to know the harmonies? then theres no melody, and thats a problem, but how are we supposed to know who sings what? i think maybe there should be sections in church too, like in choir. except, i think i found out that i know a lot of the tenor harmonies instead of the alto ones, because daddy sings louder than mumma, i guess, and its been that way for my whole life. but he sings tenor, so i picked a lot of those up, i think ? im not even sure, exactly. but if i do know the tenor ones, thats a smidgin embarrassing and kindof weird and mostly awkward, and whatever am i going to do to correct that? i dont even know.
i think i get sleepier a lot faster without contacts in my eyes. hum.
currently reading: the best christmas pagent ever
Posted 12/19/2005 2:28 AM
consequently, ive been scribbling in my new little notebook [which is awesome, and im so glad i have it. because ive needed it. my regular notebook, which i actually do miss very much despite the coolness of the little one, is easier to write in and nice to hold. but unfortunately, that is one of those things still in the car waiting to be unpacked. im a mess.]
anyway, its so nice to be home among all the nice familiar things and christmas. this weekend was all of the church music stuff, and i dont even know if i can explain why i love that so much. i made everyone go twice [and i would have gone the third time, if could have managed it, but i couldnt.] i dont know why i love it sooo much, really. and its not like im especially in love with all christmas music. i think its the choir, actually. and all the people singing altogether, and everything. really, its one of the few things that makes me tearyish.
also, i miss being in a choir. i like having something to make perfect. i had ballet, and choir and stuff, and now i have writing, but thats harder for some reason. maybe because in choir someone else is responsible for making you sound good, and with writing its all you. but i do enjoy it a very great deal when i feel like i can make something perfect after i write it. not that that happens all that often. i mostly just love those moments where i think i have finally written a line of poetry that works. how rare [!]
i started my first book of the break [my goal is to read 4 over christmas] and i forgot how much i lovelovelove to read for fun. its everso lovely. also: i need to reread the best christmas pagent ever this year, im pretty sure. i think i skipped last year. also, i really like how the Christmas Story is soo famiilar in that way where i almost have it memorized and when someones reading it i can say it along with them and know just whats coming, but i probably couldnt recite it. maybe i could, i dont know. i havent tried. but then still also, its still lovely.
and i just took the contacts out of my eyes for the second time in like a month, or month and a half or something. it feels funny without them.
gah, i want to be good at something. i remembered that this weekend. like i might even want to be an expert at something. or something like that. but it is a comfort to know that i do have some sense about me, at least sometimes. and i do think i have relatively good instincts [if i could just follow them]. like: i usually have a good idea of what to wear to places. and what not to do with necklaces. and how to call the ambulance if necessary, and how to refrain if its not. and other stuff. not too much sense, yet, but there is the smallest hope that someday there will be more.
its funny to notice your own speech patterns. like i know i talk fast, and probably mumble a lot of times, but i dont really know that i am. except for every once in a while i catch myself and im amazed and like wow. that was horrible, and i should talk clearer.
but anyway, lately ive caught myself being very uncommittal, and um-ming a lot, and saying "something" and "stuff." hmm. who even knows why. its probably a phase.
also, i think its so terribly important to know the harmonies to things, because it just sounds prettier that way, so ive been working on it. because i fully intend to be one of those ladies who sits in the back of church and belts out the harmonies [even very badly] to all of these great old songs with my hair up in a bun and pearls and heels, like i know what im singing about [!] cause by that time, lets hope i do. but i want to know what happens if everyone thinks its important to know the harmonies? then theres no melody, and thats a problem, but how are we supposed to know who sings what? i think maybe there should be sections in church too, like in choir. except, i think i found out that i know a lot of the tenor harmonies instead of the alto ones, because daddy sings louder than mumma, i guess, and its been that way for my whole life. but he sings tenor, so i picked a lot of those up, i think ? im not even sure, exactly. but if i do know the tenor ones, thats a smidgin embarrassing and kindof weird and mostly awkward, and whatever am i going to do to correct that? i dont even know.
i think i get sleepier a lot faster without contacts in my eyes. hum.
currently reading: the best christmas pagent ever
Posted 12/19/2005 2:28 AM
first things first
well, first things first.
im pretty sure ive posted this for like every finals week for as long as ive lived, or at least as long as ive known about it. but it still makes me eversohappy, because its wonderful [hooray! for funny men]. not to mention i am a traditional, if not sentimental, person. or maybe im sentimental if not traditional. eh, i forget. but it doesnt matter, really. the point is that i hope i survive.
>>>
"ARGHHH!!!
i wish i had the superpower to disappear.
but, alas, i cannot! i am but a mere mortal! and what then when a person is thrown around by life's cruel intentions? will we not drown in the depths of such madness? wail about in the clear, sticky web, spun by some egomaniacal force? are we not all hidden in this veil of mortal ignorance? we are all different--so are we not all the same? are we but dreamers in a container of liquid nitrogen--freezing in a binary machine of infinirt inferiority?! this dream is never-ending! this conversation never happened! all that exists is the english* exam! my life is nothing after the bubbles are darkened!
the caveat is the textbook--her eyes stab into the gray brain of illogical conclusions. and who then will solve life's mysteries--the reports floating in cyberspace, the news-bits in the ten-second media blitz that derives forbidden pleasure from economic meltdowns and the unforeseen destruction of foreign economic policy??are we not men and women who deny this marshmallow-world, with all of its mushy truth--its own self-absorbed bitterness that falls like a single tear, with majesty as ephemeral as a swan floating on its own reflection?!?!?!??!???
answer me! for the truth, i must know! in all of its unknowable-glory! so i can die--a happy girl!* will i not know? can i know? or will these truths forever escape me like a mink hiding in a foxhole. had we only the patience, an understanding, could we know such things--but patience does not exist. there exists nothing but single moments that live and die. and thursday* is my lit crit* final.* after thursday* will be the end of the world. but until then i exist to study. after thursday* will be the end of the world! make peace with God. make peace with nature, for the truth will set everyone free!
good day!"
p.s words followed by a star [*] may be substituted for applicable word of choice.
<<<
i think watching me during finals week would be a funny thing, and i didnt even think about it till today when my roommate was taking pictures, but apparently, i change clothes a lot when i study. and i knew i did this sometimes: like if i put on something in the morning, and it doesnt even feel like that kind of day, i will change until i find something that feels like "today." and also, if i have to do something really important [even if its just in my room, like writing something or something], ill put on something that feels really important, like a skirt or dress shoes or something. [im veryvery much a mood clothes-picker-outer/wearer.] but goodness, ive been in a changing clothes mood lately. i guess ive been bad at guessing what i feel like in the first place. now, i remember both my little sisters changing clothes a lot, but i dont remember doing it till i got older. so maybe it is genetic after all. we'll blame that anyway, i think. but. today i think i was in 3 pairs of pants, and then pajamapants, and like 6 shirts or something and hats, and socks or no socks, and sunday shoes and tennis shoes and barefoot and scarfs and hoodie, so in every picture im in something different, i think. i really couldnt find what i needed to wear. and i know, thats ridiculous. it really is. but i think i found it now: striped warm socks, bestest pajamapants, softest vneck, pearl earrings, hat. i probably dont even match, but it doesnt matter, for this is the clothescombination for studying today, and all is right with the world again.
goodness, im a very ridiculous person. and talkintoable [!].
also: my goals for the next month and halfish include:
being perfectly inspired so i can write something genius next semester
sleeping a lot
reading lots of good things
living.
not eating everything ever, and maybe even exercise
thinkingthinkingthinking
becoming better at conversation.
and being gracious and not worrying and writing at least some.
i always intimidate myself with my to-do lists. i should start making achievable goals.
im mostly sure i was relatively disasterous altogether this week. and i was having a hard time with that and not even liking it one bit until someone reminded me that things werent actually all about me. and they didnt say that in so many words, and they didnt say it a really snotty way, either, and it really turned my week around again. i forget that so much. even if i am a walking disaster about osomany things, [or things dont work out, or things are stupid, or anything at all, really] it doesnt even matter, because there are more important things. like wiggling toes, and hotchocolate, and friends, and the poorest of the poor, and praying, and laughing, and hospitals and wars and love and christmas and life.
i was talking with a friend the other day about how easy it is to forget these things, and how sad it is that we do forget, because we shouldnt, and i decided that the only way to remember is to keep it in front of your face mostly every single day instead of avoiding it. and for a long time, i think i was scared to do this because i was afraid that if i keep heartbreaking things in front of my face, i would lose the beauty. but im mostly sure i was wrong when i thought that, because im pretty sure that you dont have to choose one or the other. i think you get both, so mostly theres no excuse. it may be harder to reconcile things, and to see both at the same time, but im pretty sure both will be there in the end, and that is grace right there, and thats something. [!]
;
and in this case, i think that doing the actual being is
somthing like taking the good, clean laundry straight
from the dryer, and turning on some really good
music and lying on the floor and covering yourself
all over with the laundry. sometimes, the buttons
from the blue jeans burn, and somtimes its too hot,
but mostly you just let the warmness spread all over you.
its also like libraries and frostbite and cookies and running into
things, and snuggly pajamas. and that analogy is right, i think.
Posted 12/11/2005 11:46 PM - email it
im pretty sure ive posted this for like every finals week for as long as ive lived, or at least as long as ive known about it. but it still makes me eversohappy, because its wonderful [hooray! for funny men]. not to mention i am a traditional, if not sentimental, person. or maybe im sentimental if not traditional. eh, i forget. but it doesnt matter, really. the point is that i hope i survive.
>>>
"ARGHHH!!!
i wish i had the superpower to disappear.
but, alas, i cannot! i am but a mere mortal! and what then when a person is thrown around by life's cruel intentions? will we not drown in the depths of such madness? wail about in the clear, sticky web, spun by some egomaniacal force? are we not all hidden in this veil of mortal ignorance? we are all different--so are we not all the same? are we but dreamers in a container of liquid nitrogen--freezing in a binary machine of infinirt inferiority?! this dream is never-ending! this conversation never happened! all that exists is the english* exam! my life is nothing after the bubbles are darkened!
the caveat is the textbook--her eyes stab into the gray brain of illogical conclusions. and who then will solve life's mysteries--the reports floating in cyberspace, the news-bits in the ten-second media blitz that derives forbidden pleasure from economic meltdowns and the unforeseen destruction of foreign economic policy??are we not men and women who deny this marshmallow-world, with all of its mushy truth--its own self-absorbed bitterness that falls like a single tear, with majesty as ephemeral as a swan floating on its own reflection?!?!?!??!???
answer me! for the truth, i must know! in all of its unknowable-glory! so i can die--a happy girl!* will i not know? can i know? or will these truths forever escape me like a mink hiding in a foxhole. had we only the patience, an understanding, could we know such things--but patience does not exist. there exists nothing but single moments that live and die. and thursday* is my lit crit* final.* after thursday* will be the end of the world. but until then i exist to study. after thursday* will be the end of the world! make peace with God. make peace with nature, for the truth will set everyone free!
good day!"
p.s words followed by a star [*] may be substituted for applicable word of choice.
<<<
i think watching me during finals week would be a funny thing, and i didnt even think about it till today when my roommate was taking pictures, but apparently, i change clothes a lot when i study. and i knew i did this sometimes: like if i put on something in the morning, and it doesnt even feel like that kind of day, i will change until i find something that feels like "today." and also, if i have to do something really important [even if its just in my room, like writing something or something], ill put on something that feels really important, like a skirt or dress shoes or something. [im veryvery much a mood clothes-picker-outer/wearer.] but goodness, ive been in a changing clothes mood lately. i guess ive been bad at guessing what i feel like in the first place. now, i remember both my little sisters changing clothes a lot, but i dont remember doing it till i got older. so maybe it is genetic after all. we'll blame that anyway, i think. but. today i think i was in 3 pairs of pants, and then pajamapants, and like 6 shirts or something and hats, and socks or no socks, and sunday shoes and tennis shoes and barefoot and scarfs and hoodie, so in every picture im in something different, i think. i really couldnt find what i needed to wear. and i know, thats ridiculous. it really is. but i think i found it now: striped warm socks, bestest pajamapants, softest vneck, pearl earrings, hat. i probably dont even match, but it doesnt matter, for this is the clothescombination for studying today, and all is right with the world again.
goodness, im a very ridiculous person. and talkintoable [!].
also: my goals for the next month and halfish include:
being perfectly inspired so i can write something genius next semester
sleeping a lot
reading lots of good things
living.
not eating everything ever, and maybe even exercise
thinkingthinkingthinking
becoming better at conversation.
and being gracious and not worrying and writing at least some.
i always intimidate myself with my to-do lists. i should start making achievable goals.
im mostly sure i was relatively disasterous altogether this week. and i was having a hard time with that and not even liking it one bit until someone reminded me that things werent actually all about me. and they didnt say that in so many words, and they didnt say it a really snotty way, either, and it really turned my week around again. i forget that so much. even if i am a walking disaster about osomany things, [or things dont work out, or things are stupid, or anything at all, really] it doesnt even matter, because there are more important things. like wiggling toes, and hotchocolate, and friends, and the poorest of the poor, and praying, and laughing, and hospitals and wars and love and christmas and life.
i was talking with a friend the other day about how easy it is to forget these things, and how sad it is that we do forget, because we shouldnt, and i decided that the only way to remember is to keep it in front of your face mostly every single day instead of avoiding it. and for a long time, i think i was scared to do this because i was afraid that if i keep heartbreaking things in front of my face, i would lose the beauty. but im mostly sure i was wrong when i thought that, because im pretty sure that you dont have to choose one or the other. i think you get both, so mostly theres no excuse. it may be harder to reconcile things, and to see both at the same time, but im pretty sure both will be there in the end, and that is grace right there, and thats something. [!]
;
and in this case, i think that doing the actual being is
somthing like taking the good, clean laundry straight
from the dryer, and turning on some really good
music and lying on the floor and covering yourself
all over with the laundry. sometimes, the buttons
from the blue jeans burn, and somtimes its too hot,
but mostly you just let the warmness spread all over you.
its also like libraries and frostbite and cookies and running into
things, and snuggly pajamas. and that analogy is right, i think.
Posted 12/11/2005 11:46 PM - email it
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
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
shrubbery
i get tired of me sometimes. i say all the same things over and over, which is very repetitive and i bore myself. and also: i freeze up and flip out at the wrong times, and forget to do my [lots of] homework in the daytime.
and i have too much voice, and not enough voice, and im getting a cold, i think maybe. i wrote an editorial, [but im still a smidgin worried about it].
all the same:
that sounds like something i dont need to hear. how about you give me your opinion about some shrubs i plan on planting along the driveway?
and i need a poem in my head. and maybe a novel or something too. and i want it to be genius.
and even though--even though!--all of that, i think i might finally be getting comfortable with me in my own skin. not every day, or every minute, but sometimes, like once every 10 minutes. and sometimes even every 5 minutes or so. and thats good enough for right now. things are good. crazy, weird, strange and scary. but alright. and alright's alright. and im ok with that.
and ill take any hugs available. ive been in a hugish mood lately, for who even knows why.
currently reading: the things they carried
Posted 11/30/2005 4:17 AM
and i have too much voice, and not enough voice, and im getting a cold, i think maybe. i wrote an editorial, [but im still a smidgin worried about it].
all the same:
that sounds like something i dont need to hear. how about you give me your opinion about some shrubs i plan on planting along the driveway?
and i need a poem in my head. and maybe a novel or something too. and i want it to be genius.
and even though--even though!--all of that, i think i might finally be getting comfortable with me in my own skin. not every day, or every minute, but sometimes, like once every 10 minutes. and sometimes even every 5 minutes or so. and thats good enough for right now. things are good. crazy, weird, strange and scary. but alright. and alright's alright. and im ok with that.
and ill take any hugs available. ive been in a hugish mood lately, for who even knows why.
currently reading: the things they carried
Posted 11/30/2005 4:17 AM
good,strong,sweet-smelling detergent
from the mixed up files of mrs. basil e. frankweiler is, perhaps, one of the most influential books that i have ever read. i dont even know how that works, because its not even the best book ive ever read, but it reallyreally is wonderful, just like libraries and hotfudgesundaes and sunday afternoon naps. because those are things that should be had, and i am not even exagurrating. but anyway: this book has really influenced a whole lot of things in my life, and i seem to have managed to memorize whole sections of it, because i have read it that much [because it is very re-readable, and its that nice kind of re-readable where you dont even have to read the whole thing, you can just pick it up from the middle.] but anyway, the part that came to mind this thanksgiving was when claudia was falling asleep in marie antoinette's bed and it says "she, too, was hungry. and she, too, was uncomfortable. how could so elegant and so romantic a bed smell so musty? She would have liked to wash everything in a good, strong, sweet-smelling detergent." i wanted to do that. and sometimes i cant.
* * * * *
i can hardly imagine a childhood not full of baking cookies and mother goose and hurt-but-because-we-love-you spankings and roomcleaning and giggles and exploring.
then i remember that this is not always the case, and i am sad.
[ also, i can hardly even begin to understand about all the differences of people--all the smallest parts of your brain, and all the secrets that are hidden inside, and all the inside jokes and funny things, and sad things and tear-worthy things, and things-to-be-passionate-about and favorites and petpeeves and conversations and everything.
it makes my head hurt to think about that probably, because i dont even know how that works.]
anyway, when i go to tennessee, [which sounds funny to say because, i was already in tennessee, of course, but there it is. i was going to the other side of it anyway,] but anyway, when i am there, i remember--more personally--that people hurt and are not okay. and so often, they arent okay in ways that they dont even know they arent okay because they are so used to not being okay that they think it really is okay, but its not. like for example, margaret, age 8, who is my 2nd cousins daughter, i think [but i may be wrong] and [i think?] her dog had fleas and its losing its fur and its gross and her mom wont get the medicine for it, but she loves it because thats all she has, and her mom has had who knows how many boyfriends, and she has no father present, and everyone around yells at her for no reason, and im sure she struggles in school, and shes growing up in a home where i had to not breathe very much [and breathe through my sleeve] because it smelled like gross. and that makes me sad for margaret, and that she wont know that things arent supposed to be that way.
and then i dont understand about life and things, and it makes me sad.
and i can sit there and sniff my shirt sleve [which did, thankfully, smell like a good strong detergent. but then i get so mad at myself cause im sure a lady wouldnt do that. i need to be so much more gracious. i want to be that.] while im at those smelly places all day [but only while no one is looking], but it wont really do anyone any good. its still there--both the smell and the circumstances.
and then i feel bad because i feel like i should do something about it, but i cant really do anything about it, except for try to be wonderful to margaret while im there and talk to her and maybe even hug her, but nothing else, so why should i even bother? it probably wont make any difference anyway, but, then again, it might [thats mother teresa again for you]. so i dont know.
[i need to know the importance of small.]
* * * * *
i think that it was yesterday when i remembered that i cant draw brackets very well at all. and this is rather unfortunate because i like them muchly better than parenthesis. therefore:
no brackets unless typed [!]
[unless i practice a whole bunch first]
* * * * *
also: its weird to think about all of the things that have happened before i got here. it was weird to stand in williamsburg, for example, and places like that and think that "hey, george washington probably slid his hand down this stairwell just like im doing now." and wondering how many other people had danced on that very same dance floor and where are they now and what are they doing and stuff. and all of the people doing all kinds of things and so much has happened already, and so much more will happen and we're all crazy different and crazy similar and a whole hoo-shaah of other things and it makes me want to run around like a chicken. but only in my head. other things really do make me run around like a chicken for real, and not just in my head, but plenty of things make the running around happen only in my head. and its nice to know that just because sometimes you are running around in one of those places, you are not necessarily running around in the other place.
but whether im running around like a chicken or not: i cant forget to breathe.
and while im breathing, i can do a contented little sigh, probably.
because mostly, life is good. you know. [except if i forget to breathe then it wont be good anymore].
* * * * *
these are pretty things ive been reading today:
i missed this in the beginning of church this morning, which is not unexpected. im usually [always] late for church. bother. but the clever thing about it was, i could look it up later, so i did.
o israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. he himself will redeem israel from all their sins. i wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word i put my hope.
and this is the 5th poem [well, actually, just part of it] that i read today when i should i have been taking a nap or something else, like homework or something. [when i read poetry, i dont read one all the way through, until i find one that suits me, and then i read it osonicely [10pointfont, deep slow voice] and savor it. and this one was lovely, like sundayafternoon naps, and hotfudgesundaes and a good sunburn, the barely there, but slightly pink and warm and a smidgin painful kind. and that analogy is right, i think.
...famous streets have forgotton
where they were going. only
a fact could be so dreamlike.
they're tearing down the houses
we met and lived in,
soon our two bodies will be all
left standing from that era.
we have, as they say,
certain things in common.
i mean: a view
from a bathroom window
over slate to stiff pigeons
huddled every morning; the way
water tastes from our tap,
which you marvel at, letting
it splash into the glass.
because of you i notice
the taste of water,
a luxury i might
otherwise have missed.
Posted 11/27/2005 8:58 PM -
* * * * *
i can hardly imagine a childhood not full of baking cookies and mother goose and hurt-but-because-we-love-you spankings and roomcleaning and giggles and exploring.
then i remember that this is not always the case, and i am sad.
[ also, i can hardly even begin to understand about all the differences of people--all the smallest parts of your brain, and all the secrets that are hidden inside, and all the inside jokes and funny things, and sad things and tear-worthy things, and things-to-be-passionate-about and favorites and petpeeves and conversations and everything.
it makes my head hurt to think about that probably, because i dont even know how that works.]
anyway, when i go to tennessee, [which sounds funny to say because, i was already in tennessee, of course, but there it is. i was going to the other side of it anyway,] but anyway, when i am there, i remember--more personally--that people hurt and are not okay. and so often, they arent okay in ways that they dont even know they arent okay because they are so used to not being okay that they think it really is okay, but its not. like for example, margaret, age 8, who is my 2nd cousins daughter, i think [but i may be wrong] and [i think?] her dog had fleas and its losing its fur and its gross and her mom wont get the medicine for it, but she loves it because thats all she has, and her mom has had who knows how many boyfriends, and she has no father present, and everyone around yells at her for no reason, and im sure she struggles in school, and shes growing up in a home where i had to not breathe very much [and breathe through my sleeve] because it smelled like gross. and that makes me sad for margaret, and that she wont know that things arent supposed to be that way.
and then i dont understand about life and things, and it makes me sad.
and i can sit there and sniff my shirt sleve [which did, thankfully, smell like a good strong detergent. but then i get so mad at myself cause im sure a lady wouldnt do that. i need to be so much more gracious. i want to be that.] while im at those smelly places all day [but only while no one is looking], but it wont really do anyone any good. its still there--both the smell and the circumstances.
and then i feel bad because i feel like i should do something about it, but i cant really do anything about it, except for try to be wonderful to margaret while im there and talk to her and maybe even hug her, but nothing else, so why should i even bother? it probably wont make any difference anyway, but, then again, it might [thats mother teresa again for you]. so i dont know.
[i need to know the importance of small.]
* * * * *
i think that it was yesterday when i remembered that i cant draw brackets very well at all. and this is rather unfortunate because i like them muchly better than parenthesis. therefore:
no brackets unless typed [!]
[unless i practice a whole bunch first]
* * * * *
also: its weird to think about all of the things that have happened before i got here. it was weird to stand in williamsburg, for example, and places like that and think that "hey, george washington probably slid his hand down this stairwell just like im doing now." and wondering how many other people had danced on that very same dance floor and where are they now and what are they doing and stuff. and all of the people doing all kinds of things and so much has happened already, and so much more will happen and we're all crazy different and crazy similar and a whole hoo-shaah of other things and it makes me want to run around like a chicken. but only in my head. other things really do make me run around like a chicken for real, and not just in my head, but plenty of things make the running around happen only in my head. and its nice to know that just because sometimes you are running around in one of those places, you are not necessarily running around in the other place.
but whether im running around like a chicken or not: i cant forget to breathe.
and while im breathing, i can do a contented little sigh, probably.
because mostly, life is good. you know. [except if i forget to breathe then it wont be good anymore].
* * * * *
these are pretty things ive been reading today:
i missed this in the beginning of church this morning, which is not unexpected. im usually [always] late for church. bother. but the clever thing about it was, i could look it up later, so i did.
o israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. he himself will redeem israel from all their sins. i wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word i put my hope.
and this is the 5th poem [well, actually, just part of it] that i read today when i should i have been taking a nap or something else, like homework or something. [when i read poetry, i dont read one all the way through, until i find one that suits me, and then i read it osonicely [10pointfont, deep slow voice] and savor it. and this one was lovely, like sundayafternoon naps, and hotfudgesundaes and a good sunburn, the barely there, but slightly pink and warm and a smidgin painful kind. and that analogy is right, i think.
...famous streets have forgotton
where they were going. only
a fact could be so dreamlike.
they're tearing down the houses
we met and lived in,
soon our two bodies will be all
left standing from that era.
we have, as they say,
certain things in common.
i mean: a view
from a bathroom window
over slate to stiff pigeons
huddled every morning; the way
water tastes from our tap,
which you marvel at, letting
it splash into the glass.
because of you i notice
the taste of water,
a luxury i might
otherwise have missed.
Posted 11/27/2005 8:58 PM -
speaking of confessions:
emily: (reads on the cover of my newly aquired mass book:) PROPERTY OF ST.
MARY'S. DO NOT REMOVE. she decides that i stole it and deserve at
least purgatory, if not hell. "julie you stole from the church. the church. the
catholic church like with capital letters.[!!!]
me: "wow, so i pretty much just "stole" from the pope himself?"
emily: "no, more like the archbishop. but the point is that you still stole from the
Catholic Church!"
me: "no, no, i didnt. cause i didnt actually steal it. its more like i flirted with the monk and
he gave it to me."
so, yes. im the proud owner of a 2005 mass/prayer/hymnal book. its blue, in case anyone was wondering.[i guess i should clarify: i didnt flirt too much, and it is the last week of the liturgical year, so they didnt need them anymore. i didnt actually know they had new mass every year, i thought it was the same for like ages and ages and ages. but whatever.] after mass was over, lori and i had to go right over to the bookstore and sit down and read "catholicism for dummies" so we could finally figure out what we just sat through. but it was terribly interesting, nevertheless, but i dont think im going to convert. pretty sure. and the boy that i found while we were actually at mass was no help whatsoever, really, except that he told us how to get blessed instead of take the eucharist, because we arent allowed to anyway. [i think im developing a knack for finding useful men, which is a useful skill: terry the mechanic, the highway boys, the free-donut-men, the state troopers at quizno's, the kroger guy [but not steve, i miss steve], the cute blond boy at mass, [protestant] church boys, the movie-fixer man, the fazoli's boy, tornado boy, the monk. its like my grandmotherly women at places, and i love them muchly too, except for they are usually confined to the grocery store. i talk to the women in the grocery store, so they dont get place names, they get food names: the butter lady, the potato lady, the bridal-shower-cake-convention [there were about 6 ladies in on that one], the crazy check-out lady, and things like that. except i do have a jewlry store girl, and the dressing room ladies[!]. these people make me happy. also: one of the funniest things straight up that my father has ever said to me was one time when my car was broken and i was worried cause i had no one to help me figure out what to do, and i was unsure about talking to the car-shop boys cause i thought they wouldnt help me. so i call dad and expressed these concerns and he said something to the effect of "julie. goodness. just go in there and look pretty and helpless and smile at the boys. they will help you." i laughed my head off about that one; i dont think things really work like that too much. maybe a smidgin, but not too much. and even if they do, fathers certainly should not be the ones to tell you to make use of it.
[ im afraid that im talking too much about catholic sorts of things lately, and i probably will keep doing it mostly, but i cant help it. Mama T. really is consuming very much of my thought time and the regular time. but its ok, cause she is precious. but catholic stuff might be talked about a lot for the next 2 weeks. it was interesting though, cause i kept thinking during mass last night about how this or that was a "very protestant thing to do," and today during church i kept thinking, "well, that was super catholic." so that was pretty weird.
and also: i promise all of this is related in my head. somehow.]
also, i dont know how babies noses work. i mean, i assume [even though you know what happens about that] they work just like everyone elses [with the exception of the gut-sucker-upper, which is what i called it cause i never knew its real name--you know, the bulb thing you stick in babies noses when they are stuffy? right, im glad grown-ups dont have those] i was holding a baby [and such a precious one!] last week and it made me happy, but i still dont want one, but i decided that all babies have the same type of little button noses. and i dont know how that even works. and ive been watching babies noses ever since then and they all have the cutest noses, but they are all just the same. but the really weird thing is that when you grow up, everyone has a different nose. like: i look just like i did when i was little. except for my nose [well, and size and weight and more hair and stuff. but otherwise, just the same]. its really confusing.
and also: its nice how when suddenly there is are holes that seem osoempty, and you are sad because you dont know how on earth you are going to be able to fill them, and they look like something out of star trek, and thast sortof depressing, and vast, and then suddenly, the holes are filled holes with new things and its just the same, and usually, in my experience its better, really [!] and if you dont think about it, you would never know the difference.
"there is a nothingness that will be filled with a new and expanding fruitfulness."
from class notes for test: "the opposite of all beauty is indifference" and "love is a force. love will flip over a table." yes, in someone's world anyway. in my world, at least today, and at this moment, both of those things are true and they make me want to eat chicken and macandcheese and peas and brownies, and pass my tests, and sleep, and write a novel and go walk around town some more. [i lovelovelove jsut walking around to different stores and looking at things and stuff like that. i would call it by its proper name--piddling-- but people made fun of me for that once. so now i just call it running around town. and it makes me osohappy. its probably one of the most relaxing things ever, because the trick is to go all the best and most interesting places, and not stay long enough to get tired.] also, i want to talk to people that i want to talk to, and make it until thanksgiving. [givethanksgive thanks].
and im kidding about the novel, but i'd settle for a poem, or a paper.
there are things worse than dying [apparently.]
[im doubtful and drowsy and ready to sleep
let the morningtime drop all of its petals on me.
life, i love you, all is groovy.
currently playing: tales from new york / simon and garfunkel]
Posted 11/20/2005 7:19 PM -
MARY'S. DO NOT REMOVE. she decides that i stole it and deserve at
least purgatory, if not hell. "julie you stole from the church. the church. the
catholic church like with capital letters.[!!!]
me: "wow, so i pretty much just "stole" from the pope himself?"
emily: "no, more like the archbishop. but the point is that you still stole from the
Catholic Church!"
me: "no, no, i didnt. cause i didnt actually steal it. its more like i flirted with the monk and
he gave it to me."
so, yes. im the proud owner of a 2005 mass/prayer/hymnal book. its blue, in case anyone was wondering.[i guess i should clarify: i didnt flirt too much, and it is the last week of the liturgical year, so they didnt need them anymore. i didnt actually know they had new mass every year, i thought it was the same for like ages and ages and ages. but whatever.] after mass was over, lori and i had to go right over to the bookstore and sit down and read "catholicism for dummies" so we could finally figure out what we just sat through. but it was terribly interesting, nevertheless, but i dont think im going to convert. pretty sure. and the boy that i found while we were actually at mass was no help whatsoever, really, except that he told us how to get blessed instead of take the eucharist, because we arent allowed to anyway. [i think im developing a knack for finding useful men, which is a useful skill: terry the mechanic, the highway boys, the free-donut-men, the state troopers at quizno's, the kroger guy [but not steve, i miss steve], the cute blond boy at mass, [protestant] church boys, the movie-fixer man, the fazoli's boy, tornado boy, the monk. its like my grandmotherly women at places, and i love them muchly too, except for they are usually confined to the grocery store. i talk to the women in the grocery store, so they dont get place names, they get food names: the butter lady, the potato lady, the bridal-shower-cake-convention [there were about 6 ladies in on that one], the crazy check-out lady, and things like that. except i do have a jewlry store girl, and the dressing room ladies[!]. these people make me happy. also: one of the funniest things straight up that my father has ever said to me was one time when my car was broken and i was worried cause i had no one to help me figure out what to do, and i was unsure about talking to the car-shop boys cause i thought they wouldnt help me. so i call dad and expressed these concerns and he said something to the effect of "julie. goodness. just go in there and look pretty and helpless and smile at the boys. they will help you." i laughed my head off about that one; i dont think things really work like that too much. maybe a smidgin, but not too much. and even if they do, fathers certainly should not be the ones to tell you to make use of it.
[ im afraid that im talking too much about catholic sorts of things lately, and i probably will keep doing it mostly, but i cant help it. Mama T. really is consuming very much of my thought time and the regular time. but its ok, cause she is precious. but catholic stuff might be talked about a lot for the next 2 weeks. it was interesting though, cause i kept thinking during mass last night about how this or that was a "very protestant thing to do," and today during church i kept thinking, "well, that was super catholic." so that was pretty weird.
and also: i promise all of this is related in my head. somehow.]
also, i dont know how babies noses work. i mean, i assume [even though you know what happens about that] they work just like everyone elses [with the exception of the gut-sucker-upper, which is what i called it cause i never knew its real name--you know, the bulb thing you stick in babies noses when they are stuffy? right, im glad grown-ups dont have those] i was holding a baby [and such a precious one!] last week and it made me happy, but i still dont want one, but i decided that all babies have the same type of little button noses. and i dont know how that even works. and ive been watching babies noses ever since then and they all have the cutest noses, but they are all just the same. but the really weird thing is that when you grow up, everyone has a different nose. like: i look just like i did when i was little. except for my nose [well, and size and weight and more hair and stuff. but otherwise, just the same]. its really confusing.
and also: its nice how when suddenly there is are holes that seem osoempty, and you are sad because you dont know how on earth you are going to be able to fill them, and they look like something out of star trek, and thast sortof depressing, and vast, and then suddenly, the holes are filled holes with new things and its just the same, and usually, in my experience its better, really [!] and if you dont think about it, you would never know the difference.
"there is a nothingness that will be filled with a new and expanding fruitfulness."
from class notes for test: "the opposite of all beauty is indifference" and "love is a force. love will flip over a table." yes, in someone's world anyway. in my world, at least today, and at this moment, both of those things are true and they make me want to eat chicken and macandcheese and peas and brownies, and pass my tests, and sleep, and write a novel and go walk around town some more. [i lovelovelove jsut walking around to different stores and looking at things and stuff like that. i would call it by its proper name--piddling-- but people made fun of me for that once. so now i just call it running around town. and it makes me osohappy. its probably one of the most relaxing things ever, because the trick is to go all the best and most interesting places, and not stay long enough to get tired.] also, i want to talk to people that i want to talk to, and make it until thanksgiving. [givethanksgive thanks].
and im kidding about the novel, but i'd settle for a poem, or a paper.
there are things worse than dying [apparently.]
[im doubtful and drowsy and ready to sleep
let the morningtime drop all of its petals on me.
life, i love you, all is groovy.
currently playing: tales from new york / simon and garfunkel]
Posted 11/20/2005 7:19 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
» 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
300 words
today I have to make myself write my 300 words, and I don’t want too. im even writing in Microsoftword [that’s why there are capitals] , so I don’t have to write one single word more than necessary. I feel dumb because all these other ‘writers’ say that they love to write, and stuff, and I still don’t. and that confuses me. either they are lying, or I am just plain awful. that’s possible, I guess, but im not sure its likely. I guess is is. also, lately, im getting frusturated because I either have 1) motivation and no time, 2) time and no motivation or 3) motivation and time but absolutely no energy. right now, its #3. I could stay up all night and be productive and I would like to, but I am tired. im not sure I could. and 300 words is more than I realized. I feel very ish, I think. [and tired, and talkative, and restless] yes. ish is a good word for it. very undecisive. [by the way, I went back to arbys and got a mini-mr. mitt on accident. and its pretty great, but he doesn’t answer questions. hes more like the strong silent type.] this is only 200 words. gah. usually at this point I would throw in some lyrics or half-thought-out poetry that I half scribbled down somewhere in the notebook. not today, though. and also: today, my old boss made me happy; he was precious. if men can be charming, it probably doesn’t hurt to be so. one time, we made a list and there were some things that boys are supposed to do, and some things that girls are supposed to do. but there are also some things that everyone is supposed to do [according to consensus], and those are as follows: 1) have some eye-contact, 2) laugh at the other’s jokes and 3) smell pretty. I think we should add some, though, like about being charming, and floss once in a while. and stuff like that. but that’s just my humble opinion. also: if youre inspiring, I want to talk to you. and that’s 345 words. hurrah. [of course, now that im done, I have more to say, like I miss some things, but not everything, and I think I decided about something else I want to do when I grow up, and that I think too much, and I have so much to say, and a whole ton of half ideas [but I want them to be whole ideas, and genius], and I want icecream, and my food tastes have been awfully odd as of late, and I dont even know what I'm doing but I dont mind cause things arent ever so bad in the morning after breakfast [I think I'll have cinnamon toast for sure], but I'll save that for tomorrow. but I should just keep my mouth shut. and go with the flow, man [in the words of two experts]. and also: I want a nap [and the world] to put into my pocket, to save for a rainy day, or a sunny one, or another day. I dont think thats asking too much, is it?]
Currently Reading: A Kiss for Little Bear By Else Holmelund Minarik
Posted 11/14/2005 2:54 AM
Currently Reading: A Kiss for Little Bear By Else Holmelund Minarik
Posted 11/14/2005 2:54 AM
Monday, October 8, 2007
{{ on being [right here, and now, and just like this] }}
"I am feeling like a slice of bread, snow-white,tasteless (99 cent loaf) on the lowestshelf in the florescent lit grocery store isle,wanting to be homemade, hand-kneaded,fresh (from the oven). hard shell, softcenter, grain-imbedded. Gritty and real.I couldn’t be farther from home."
"home is the place where you can finally be,"and its the place where you do your laundry, in this case, i think that doing the actual beingis somthing like taking that laundry straight from the dryer, and turning on some really good music and lying on the floor and covering yourselfall over with the laundry. sometimes, the buttons from the blue jeans burn, and somtimes its too hot,but mostly you just let the warmness spread all over you.
"the problem is acceptance, which is something we're taught not to do. we're taught to improve uncomfortable situations, to change things, alleviate unpleasant feelings. but if you accept the reality that you have been given--that you are not in a productive creative period--you free yourself to begin filling up again. ...get one page of anything written. three hundred words of memories or dreams or stream of consciousness on how much they hate writing--just for the hell of it, just to keep their fingers from becoming too arthritic, just because they have made a commitment to try and write three hundred words every day. then, on bad days and weeks, let things go at that."
"who am i? am i only what others say about me?or only what i know of myself--weak, timid, unloving?whoever i am, you know me, o God. i am yours....when one lives completely, one learns to have faith,to live unreservedly in all of ourduties, successes, failures, problems and joys, suffering;in all things, throw yourself into the mercy of God."
there is only one safe place.
and that place is not safe, in the strictest sense of the word.
............................................................
[if i could change me all around, i would. i think. at least some things, anyway.]and also: i think i might graduate after all. thats scary. but what on earth am i going to do afterward? for goodness sake, i am an english major. for even more goodness sake, i am a writing emphasis. do you want to know the number of jobs you can get with that major? about 1.3. im pretty sure im scared. [but its ok: my roommate and i are going to have a "college-hates-me" party, and my other frienddear are going to have a "lets-apply-to-gradschool" party and a "lets-research-gross-things-and-write-pretty-things" party. and after that, we will all have a -breathebreathebreathe-chocolatechocolatechocolate-dancedancedance party. and it will be happy.] when i first got my replacement shoes for my favorite-est shoes ever, i was really excited, but after i wore them, i was exceedingly unhappy because they hurt my toes and then also they gave me a blister on my left heel. i was so sad because these shoes were supposed to be all kinds of wonderful. but i just kept wearing them, and pretty soon [what do you know] they became comfortable. now i love them, and they are great. and also: i got to watch the breaking-in process. usually i dont really notice that, but this time i did, and sometimes i feel like that myself.i want to get my hair cut. but only just mostly. and i dont trust people here in jackson to cut my hair. last time i did, mostlybad things happened [i think they cut hair like they drive]. anywhere else, im ok with. if i was ok with people cutting my hair in this town my hair would be shorter right now.and also, today, i bought two pairs of shoes [for $25], and i had scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast for dinner. and 2 glasses of milk. goodness, im so...predictable. and i reallyreally am a traditional, if not sentimental [horror of horrors.] person. [ not to mention talkintoable, and talkoutofable, and talkative.]lately, it seems like all my life decisions are made by consulting mr. mitt. our room aquired our darling mr. mitt on a well-timed trip to arby's and it was even an accident, because i didnt order a kids meal, but they thought i did, so i got him and i wasnt even expecting it. this means it must be destiny. anyway, he is this happy little oven mitt that answers all your questions. "should i do my homework?" if youre feeling lucky. "should i eat a sandwich or waffles for dinner?" ask again later. "will someone in our room [or, all 4 of us] marry the hottest boy[s] we've ever seen?" yes, yes, yes! "should i wear this pink shirt today?" no. "will i be a good writer when i grow up?" definately. see? its really a very handy thing to have around. [way better than those dumb 8balls. who even believes those things? but this[!]--yes. one look at mr. mitt's happy little face and i believe it.] and they are very useful when you are feeling particularly undescisive. and this happens, let me tell you. and also when you just want some reassurance. [i should just go with my gut more often, i bet. but thats hard.] and thats nice to have reassurance anway.and it seems cliche of me to say at this moment, but i think i might finally be getting comfortable with me in my own skin. not every day, or every minute, but sometimes, like once every 10 minutes. and sometimes even every 5 minutes or so. and thats good enough for right now [i think].
Posted 11/10/2005 8:50 PM
"home is the place where you can finally be,"and its the place where you do your laundry, in this case, i think that doing the actual beingis somthing like taking that laundry straight from the dryer, and turning on some really good music and lying on the floor and covering yourselfall over with the laundry. sometimes, the buttons from the blue jeans burn, and somtimes its too hot,but mostly you just let the warmness spread all over you.
"the problem is acceptance, which is something we're taught not to do. we're taught to improve uncomfortable situations, to change things, alleviate unpleasant feelings. but if you accept the reality that you have been given--that you are not in a productive creative period--you free yourself to begin filling up again. ...get one page of anything written. three hundred words of memories or dreams or stream of consciousness on how much they hate writing--just for the hell of it, just to keep their fingers from becoming too arthritic, just because they have made a commitment to try and write three hundred words every day. then, on bad days and weeks, let things go at that."
"who am i? am i only what others say about me?or only what i know of myself--weak, timid, unloving?whoever i am, you know me, o God. i am yours....when one lives completely, one learns to have faith,to live unreservedly in all of ourduties, successes, failures, problems and joys, suffering;in all things, throw yourself into the mercy of God."
there is only one safe place.
and that place is not safe, in the strictest sense of the word.
............................................................
[if i could change me all around, i would. i think. at least some things, anyway.]and also: i think i might graduate after all. thats scary. but what on earth am i going to do afterward? for goodness sake, i am an english major. for even more goodness sake, i am a writing emphasis. do you want to know the number of jobs you can get with that major? about 1.3. im pretty sure im scared. [but its ok: my roommate and i are going to have a "college-hates-me" party, and my other frienddear are going to have a "lets-apply-to-gradschool" party and a "lets-research-gross-things-and-write-pretty-things" party. and after that, we will all have a -breathebreathebreathe-chocolatechocolatechocolate-dancedancedance party. and it will be happy.] when i first got my replacement shoes for my favorite-est shoes ever, i was really excited, but after i wore them, i was exceedingly unhappy because they hurt my toes and then also they gave me a blister on my left heel. i was so sad because these shoes were supposed to be all kinds of wonderful. but i just kept wearing them, and pretty soon [what do you know] they became comfortable. now i love them, and they are great. and also: i got to watch the breaking-in process. usually i dont really notice that, but this time i did, and sometimes i feel like that myself.i want to get my hair cut. but only just mostly. and i dont trust people here in jackson to cut my hair. last time i did, mostlybad things happened [i think they cut hair like they drive]. anywhere else, im ok with. if i was ok with people cutting my hair in this town my hair would be shorter right now.and also, today, i bought two pairs of shoes [for $25], and i had scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast for dinner. and 2 glasses of milk. goodness, im so...predictable. and i reallyreally am a traditional, if not sentimental [horror of horrors.] person. [ not to mention talkintoable, and talkoutofable, and talkative.]lately, it seems like all my life decisions are made by consulting mr. mitt. our room aquired our darling mr. mitt on a well-timed trip to arby's and it was even an accident, because i didnt order a kids meal, but they thought i did, so i got him and i wasnt even expecting it. this means it must be destiny. anyway, he is this happy little oven mitt that answers all your questions. "should i do my homework?" if youre feeling lucky. "should i eat a sandwich or waffles for dinner?" ask again later. "will someone in our room [or, all 4 of us] marry the hottest boy[s] we've ever seen?" yes, yes, yes! "should i wear this pink shirt today?" no. "will i be a good writer when i grow up?" definately. see? its really a very handy thing to have around. [way better than those dumb 8balls. who even believes those things? but this[!]--yes. one look at mr. mitt's happy little face and i believe it.] and they are very useful when you are feeling particularly undescisive. and this happens, let me tell you. and also when you just want some reassurance. [i should just go with my gut more often, i bet. but thats hard.] and thats nice to have reassurance anway.and it seems cliche of me to say at this moment, but i think i might finally be getting comfortable with me in my own skin. not every day, or every minute, but sometimes, like once every 10 minutes. and sometimes even every 5 minutes or so. and thats good enough for right now [i think].
Posted 11/10/2005 8:50 PM
[ things to say ]
[one of my goals in life is to have pretty hands. and my hands are getting there, im working on it. but when my hands do get there, i am going to take a typing class, cause i never learned how to type correctly. and i am going to practicepracticepractice till im great at typing. and then im going to put a mirror in front of my computer keyboard, and just watch my hands typetypetype. it will be osopretty and im excited for it.]
the date november 3 seems like it should always be on a thursday. i like thursdays. its a very stressful, but very calm day, i think. [and i think "november 3" has the right kinds of sounds to achieve that combination of things, and that is a good combination.] thursdays are also a resigned day. even if things do go wrong, its ok, cause its almost friday. things will decidedly be better tomorrow. its practically the only day that its safe to promise someone that things will be better tomorrow, and even then its not always foolproof.
[i have lots of thoughts on lots of subjects, i decided. i should probably not talk my head off so much, sorry. but ive been trying not to talk so much in person lately, so i think i have a lot to say. oops ]
people are always talking about how much they dislike emails and IM, and such things because they cant see the person and their face and such, and because they think that you cant tell emotions or whatever in them. i sortof agree that its nicer to see faces, because in person is better, and thats all there is to it, but really, i think i do better in writing. [and this is sortof sucky, because i dont like to write. well, i mean i like to have written, but the act of writing itself is mostly like pulling teeth without any pain medication and doing it yourself in your bathroom with a hammer.] but anyway, all the emotion you are going to get from me can be found in things i write, its probably the surest and clearest way to get into my head. i mean, reading anything i write is just exactly like getting a peak into the depths of my being because its all there, just like it comes out--and its just how it is on the inside. and that makes it vulnerable. and vulnerable makes it scary. regardless, today is two years of consistentish writing [on here], and thats a long time. but owell. lets have some cake.
im glad for it though, really. its a waste of time, and all of that, but it has been the one thing that has made me consistently tell stories, and think about writing, and what to say and the importance or not of punctuation and things like that. and thats osogood for me.
this week was halloween. i was a witch for the first time in my whole life, and i felt kindof bad about it. like, i didnt want to be a witch, so i decided that i was pippi longstocking dressed up as a witch. this is because i had to be at work, which was irritating and all ive been doing lately, and i had to wear black, and so i was going to be a ladybug, but then i couldnt find anything to make that happen on a slightly short notice, and slightly short notice is all the notice i give to most things, and then i decided i was going to be a cat, but alas, no cat things were to be had, either. so i found a great big, floppy witch hat, that looked as though it might have belonged to a friendly witch. it also came equipped with a set of hot pink braids that sortof stuck out, and then bought myself some hot pink fishnet tights [very sexy, let me tell you], and wore my fake emo shoes, so i looked like i was a friendly-pretend-hotpink-emo-pippi longstocking-witch. and i ate candy when i was at work too, so it wasnt all bad, i guess.
lately at work, and with my own mother, i have been realizing the importance of mothering. its an extremely important task, ive decided. its been one of those weeks where ive been running around in circles and dont know what to even do next and ive been working and writing, and the combination thereof means my room positively exploded. and this has been one of those weeks where ive called my mother 9 times a day, or at least four times, but she doesnt mind it, still. and anyway, so all of these mothers have just been talkingtalkingtalking, [because thats what girls do, and i love that osomuch--and moreover, thats what mothers do. im convinced that mothers talk more than regular women.] [also, i love my mother [and my father, but thats besides the point] but i also love my pretend mothers that come along. like my favorite mother at work always reminds me to eat dinner and to make sure i leave enough time for my schoolwork. and those women i know that i just want to be like, because they are so amazing. and i love. the women in the grocery store who are always so willing to advise on any little question i may have. it makes me really happy.] [and ive been reading mother teresa, who loved to remind people that even if a mother could forget her child, He couldnt forget us because he carved us on the palm of his hand, something like those a 2yearolds tatoos, but far more permanent.]
but anyway, i want kids, i want a lot of kids. but not right now, oooooh no. im pretty sure im not excited, at all, really, about actually being a mother [yet?] except for this: i want that universal experience desperately. i cant even imagine so many things about being a mother; they are forever telling me at work "oh, well, you probably wouldnt understand this..." and "youre mother would know what we're talking about..." and i want that experience. it would help me understand more things, i think.
yes, and i have this thing where i dont know what to say. this is why i dont like to call the dentist: i have no idea what to say to him. and it doesnt matter that i called to make an appointment, and thats all. i still dont know what to say. and one time i was walking out of this hotel we were all staying at, and the woman right outside the door was smoking. and as soon as me and my friend walked out the door, she started apologizing for smoking and telling us all about how she has tried to quit a whole lot of times, but just couldnt, and how she has this whole guilt complex about it. i felt so bad for making her feel bad, but i couldnt exactly tell her that it was fine and dandy for her to keep smoking, because i think its an unhealthy habit, and i dont support dying unnecessarily. i didnt know what to tell her. [i think i ended up telling her please not to feel guilty just because i walked out as she was smoking.]
and i dont know what to tell other people either.
i dont know how grown-ups always know what things to say. they know how to call the dentist, and how to answer the millions of questions kids ask about everything, and what to say to 2yearolds who ask "where did brother go?" [when brother is not coming back, because brother has passed away] and i dont know what to say when someone dies or loses their baby or breaks up with their boyfriend, or something. and i could probably think of something to say and write it down later, but that does no good whatsoever in the moment of need. i need to be so much more gracious. and real.
;
in theory, communism is a good idea. after all, why should you complain about being a happy little peasant? "it seems so much easier than actually dying for a cause or something."
but thats silly. we all know that communism never works for those same three reasons that i learned in economics [sin nature, no price system, and i can never remember the third one. ill think of it tomorrow]. and it pretty much doesnt work evereverever. that leaves us with about 2 options: live for real and being and then dying [which is hardhardhard but lovely], or being the oppressed poor little masses [and thats just pitiful and ridiculous,] and thats all there is to that [i think.].
currently playing: plans // deathcabforcutie
Posted 11/3/2005 6:45 PM
the date november 3 seems like it should always be on a thursday. i like thursdays. its a very stressful, but very calm day, i think. [and i think "november 3" has the right kinds of sounds to achieve that combination of things, and that is a good combination.] thursdays are also a resigned day. even if things do go wrong, its ok, cause its almost friday. things will decidedly be better tomorrow. its practically the only day that its safe to promise someone that things will be better tomorrow, and even then its not always foolproof.
[i have lots of thoughts on lots of subjects, i decided. i should probably not talk my head off so much, sorry. but ive been trying not to talk so much in person lately, so i think i have a lot to say. oops ]
people are always talking about how much they dislike emails and IM, and such things because they cant see the person and their face and such, and because they think that you cant tell emotions or whatever in them. i sortof agree that its nicer to see faces, because in person is better, and thats all there is to it, but really, i think i do better in writing. [and this is sortof sucky, because i dont like to write. well, i mean i like to have written, but the act of writing itself is mostly like pulling teeth without any pain medication and doing it yourself in your bathroom with a hammer.] but anyway, all the emotion you are going to get from me can be found in things i write, its probably the surest and clearest way to get into my head. i mean, reading anything i write is just exactly like getting a peak into the depths of my being because its all there, just like it comes out--and its just how it is on the inside. and that makes it vulnerable. and vulnerable makes it scary. regardless, today is two years of consistentish writing [on here], and thats a long time. but owell. lets have some cake.
im glad for it though, really. its a waste of time, and all of that, but it has been the one thing that has made me consistently tell stories, and think about writing, and what to say and the importance or not of punctuation and things like that. and thats osogood for me.
this week was halloween. i was a witch for the first time in my whole life, and i felt kindof bad about it. like, i didnt want to be a witch, so i decided that i was pippi longstocking dressed up as a witch. this is because i had to be at work, which was irritating and all ive been doing lately, and i had to wear black, and so i was going to be a ladybug, but then i couldnt find anything to make that happen on a slightly short notice, and slightly short notice is all the notice i give to most things, and then i decided i was going to be a cat, but alas, no cat things were to be had, either. so i found a great big, floppy witch hat, that looked as though it might have belonged to a friendly witch. it also came equipped with a set of hot pink braids that sortof stuck out, and then bought myself some hot pink fishnet tights [very sexy, let me tell you], and wore my fake emo shoes, so i looked like i was a friendly-pretend-hotpink-emo-pippi longstocking-witch. and i ate candy when i was at work too, so it wasnt all bad, i guess.
lately at work, and with my own mother, i have been realizing the importance of mothering. its an extremely important task, ive decided. its been one of those weeks where ive been running around in circles and dont know what to even do next and ive been working and writing, and the combination thereof means my room positively exploded. and this has been one of those weeks where ive called my mother 9 times a day, or at least four times, but she doesnt mind it, still. and anyway, so all of these mothers have just been talkingtalkingtalking, [because thats what girls do, and i love that osomuch--and moreover, thats what mothers do. im convinced that mothers talk more than regular women.] [also, i love my mother [and my father, but thats besides the point] but i also love my pretend mothers that come along. like my favorite mother at work always reminds me to eat dinner and to make sure i leave enough time for my schoolwork. and those women i know that i just want to be like, because they are so amazing. and i love. the women in the grocery store who are always so willing to advise on any little question i may have. it makes me really happy.] [and ive been reading mother teresa, who loved to remind people that even if a mother could forget her child, He couldnt forget us because he carved us on the palm of his hand, something like those a 2yearolds tatoos, but far more permanent.]
but anyway, i want kids, i want a lot of kids. but not right now, oooooh no. im pretty sure im not excited, at all, really, about actually being a mother [yet?] except for this: i want that universal experience desperately. i cant even imagine so many things about being a mother; they are forever telling me at work "oh, well, you probably wouldnt understand this..." and "youre mother would know what we're talking about..." and i want that experience. it would help me understand more things, i think.
yes, and i have this thing where i dont know what to say. this is why i dont like to call the dentist: i have no idea what to say to him. and it doesnt matter that i called to make an appointment, and thats all. i still dont know what to say. and one time i was walking out of this hotel we were all staying at, and the woman right outside the door was smoking. and as soon as me and my friend walked out the door, she started apologizing for smoking and telling us all about how she has tried to quit a whole lot of times, but just couldnt, and how she has this whole guilt complex about it. i felt so bad for making her feel bad, but i couldnt exactly tell her that it was fine and dandy for her to keep smoking, because i think its an unhealthy habit, and i dont support dying unnecessarily. i didnt know what to tell her. [i think i ended up telling her please not to feel guilty just because i walked out as she was smoking.]
and i dont know what to tell other people either.
i dont know how grown-ups always know what things to say. they know how to call the dentist, and how to answer the millions of questions kids ask about everything, and what to say to 2yearolds who ask "where did brother go?" [when brother is not coming back, because brother has passed away] and i dont know what to say when someone dies or loses their baby or breaks up with their boyfriend, or something. and i could probably think of something to say and write it down later, but that does no good whatsoever in the moment of need. i need to be so much more gracious. and real.
;
in theory, communism is a good idea. after all, why should you complain about being a happy little peasant? "it seems so much easier than actually dying for a cause or something."
but thats silly. we all know that communism never works for those same three reasons that i learned in economics [sin nature, no price system, and i can never remember the third one. ill think of it tomorrow]. and it pretty much doesnt work evereverever. that leaves us with about 2 options: live for real and being and then dying [which is hardhardhard but lovely], or being the oppressed poor little masses [and thats just pitiful and ridiculous,] and thats all there is to that [i think.].
currently playing: plans // deathcabforcutie
Posted 11/3/2005 6:45 PM
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
