And you know, I like falling asleep in a T-shirt and jeans! I like waking up at 1 in the afternoon with hair that is inexplicably twenty times messier than it was when I fell asleep and I like heating leftover coffee up in the microwave only to find that there's no milk and no sugar and the only things on TV are reruns of CSI and the History channel. And if I want to screw any plans of productivity after graduation, go to bartender school, and go be a bartender in some big city while being a failing writer in my daytime life, what is it to You?
You know, sometimes people don't want to stay in their little bubbles that've been made for them. Sometimes, they don't want to have everything planned out ahead of time. Sometimes, they want to pick a random song on their iTunes and click the little genius button and have a playlist that they never would have expected to be so epic made for them. Sometimes, they want life to fall unexpectedly into their laps. They don't want to be responsible. Goodness, if we have the resources for it, what are we doing, sitting around and letting our lives walk by us as we wallow in our guilt and indecision?
What if good came out of this? You know, what if I got some crazy inspiration from the spiderweb in the corner of my room or the weird pattern that afternoon light makes as it filters through my window and the screen to dance around on my unmade bed, traversing through the sheets and comforter and pillows like my life is a maze to be conquered? What if I realized something important and shared it with the whole human race? What if the words that could bring peace to people who desperately want it, though they never seek it, came to me while I let the swing in the backyard sway gently back and forth? I saved that spider, you know. And I'm sorry my hair killed its home.
All I'm saying is that I'm tired. I'm tired and there are other people who can do anything You'd want me to do with more skill and better results. You don't want me doing anything, I'd have to look it up or think about it for exceptionally too long and then I'd solve it with way too many words and wrong ideas and... I just don't think that You want me doing anything right now.
Which is why, I suppose, I'm not.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
My Dragonflies
Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar used to retell a childhood story about dragonflies to explain the difference he saw between the world inside the singularity of a black hole and the outside world around it. A dragonfly nymph, still underwater, promised his companions that he would return below the surface of the water after he had left to change and tell them what the world was like above. Of course, after he turned into a dragonfly, he couldn't come back to tell his friends what had happened.
"Will none of you in pity
To those you left behind, disclose the secret?"
Of course, none of my friends leaving for their summer trips are doing anything quite so dramatic as the dragonfly. They're certainly not falling into a black hole, and, to follow the allusion to its full significance, none of them are going off to the Great Beyond, I hope. But some are leaving, and some have already left, to do something that to me is as different from the life I lead here as a dragonfly's life is from a nymph's. You're living fully into a call and following it to the ends of the Earth. But share about it, please, for those of us left behind.
God bless you, my friends, and bring you back safe. Let good work through you so that every second of every day, though you may not feel it, you may be helped by the grace of the people around you and you may help them in return. Love deeply those whose lives you touch, taking love from that never-ending supply, so that when you come back, you'll have some left to give to us as we listen to your stories and pretend that we can share in the life you've lived. Take courage so that you can give courage to each of us so that we can find our place here to live life as fully as you are. I can't wait to see you when you come back.
With all my love,
Addie Jo
"Will none of you in pity
To those you left behind, disclose the secret?"
Of course, none of my friends leaving for their summer trips are doing anything quite so dramatic as the dragonfly. They're certainly not falling into a black hole, and, to follow the allusion to its full significance, none of them are going off to the Great Beyond, I hope. But some are leaving, and some have already left, to do something that to me is as different from the life I lead here as a dragonfly's life is from a nymph's. You're living fully into a call and following it to the ends of the Earth. But share about it, please, for those of us left behind.
God bless you, my friends, and bring you back safe. Let good work through you so that every second of every day, though you may not feel it, you may be helped by the grace of the people around you and you may help them in return. Love deeply those whose lives you touch, taking love from that never-ending supply, so that when you come back, you'll have some left to give to us as we listen to your stories and pretend that we can share in the life you've lived. Take courage so that you can give courage to each of us so that we can find our place here to live life as fully as you are. I can't wait to see you when you come back.
With all my love,
Addie Jo
Friday, May 21, 2010
Romeo, Save Me
We will return to your regularly scheduled blog at some time in the near future mostly because I know no one wants to read my complaints about the patheticness (which should totally be a word, spellchecker) of my life and partially because I've finished watching all the episodes of The Office and won't be faced with the distracting romantic known as Jim Halpert every day. So really, I'll return to normal (which is apparently an enormous hatred of all men-kind, according to my roommate) after I get this all out.
First off, universe, what is with all of the marriage hints invading my life? No, really, I want answers. OK, part of that's my fault because there have to be at least 4 weddings in The Office (by the way, the first episode I saw was Jim and Pam's wedding and I had no clue what was going on; so much better the second time; LOVE!) but, really? I counted 12 status updates that had to do with marriages, I have two awesome friends who are getting married and are definitely not at fault here at all, I've heard marriage hints on the radio and then there's this site, LoveGivesMeHope. It's like MLIA, except super sweet. I can't call it pathetic, but it's the kind of stuff that you read when you either want to cry and/or make that awwww noise that you make around babies or small cute creatures such as hedgehogs. You laugh, but really, hedgehogs, the cutest things ever. Anyway, half of the stories on this are cute old couples and I cry when I read about old people who've been together their whole lives. The worst one? Actual tears on my keyboard over this one:
My grandpa is 85 years old.
Today, I just found out that ever since his wife, his true love, had died, he put roses on her grave every Sunday.
The drive is 2 hours away from where he lives. She was 29 when she died.
Listen, I want that. Well, I don't particularly want to die when I'm 29, but if I got to live with that kind of love for whatever amount of time, I wouldn't mind. The worst days of my life are the days when I'm afraid that I'll be alone for the rest of my life or will live out my days with a husband I don't really love. I can see that happening, too, that's maybe the worst part. I can imagine a future alone. I can't see a future with anyone. There has to be something wrong with me because your answer to "Where will you be in five years?" shouldn't be "Alone."
It's just frustrating. I know I'm not old. I know that I don't need to worry about stuff like this. Some people go to college expecting to find "the one" (oh, no, I just became one of those people who puts quotes around "the one") but I also know that plenty of people don't get married straight out of college like plenty of people don't get married straight out of high school. You wait for your professional career to settle down, or you wait until you find somebody who makes you change that around. People meet people in grad school or at work or just going out somewhere... it happens all the time and you just have to be patient.
At the same time, though, you wonder what you're doing wrong. I mean, should I try harder to find someone, really put myself out there? I could dress up more, expand my wardrobe to something beyond jeans and a t-shirt and stop buying shirts from the guy's sections (but really, the best shirts are from there- my cookie monster shirt, my Led Zeppelin shirt, my glow-in-the-dark Batman shirt, my Star Wars shirt), wear make-up more often, actually care about my hair... smile at a guy every one in a while. It's just that there really hasn't been anyone (loml excluded, but really, eventually I'm going to have to stop lying to myself) worth dressing up over. I mean, I do go to Carolina, and while the gender ratio isn't that bad, once you take out the athletes, the frat boys, the guys who are taken and the guys who remove themselves and other guys from the dating pool, it's slim pickings. I just don't think learning to walk in heels is going to help that much.
Most of the time I complain about being single so that people will contradict it and make me feel better about myself. It's one of like three things that I do this for. You know, I like being independent. I like having my own space, my own thoughts, my own feelings, no matter what they are. I like being able to choose to do whatever I want to on Friday night without having to consult someone. I like having complete use of my phone without having to text somebody super frequently or, worse, call them (idea-since no one really uses italics anymore, can they just be the universal sarcasm indicator? Because then the whole last sentence would have to be in italics). I like having something to talk about other than my relationships. It makes me a deeper person and people can hear about the things I'm really interested in, not just some boy they've never met and don't care to know about. Really. It's great. And it totally gives me time to practice my witty comebacks and piercing remarks that I'll need in case I ever have to have a heated discussion over something significant, like the best kind of coffee or the proper placement of a television with limited available spacing. Why would anyone ever give this up?
Have you ever seen me on a clear, dark night? I get left by the people I'm walking with because I can't tear my eyes away from the sky. It's kinda pathetic, but I love looking at the stars, drinking in as much of the sight as I can before clouds take it away or dawn comes to remove it more permanently. I can see why people in love stare at each other. And I know that there's more to love than what we've made it into, more than mushy Valentine's Day crap. It's something fierce, it's supposed to change you, it's supposed to bring out the heroic, the best parts of humanity and make life on Earth something worth living, not just something you have to sit through until you get to the next good thing. It doesn't belong just with the lovers, it carries throughout the world into families, through the Church, through people helping people, caring for people, making a difference, loving the planet we're all stuck on, dreaming up ways to make this whole place better, making it the way it could be, not just the way it is. Love isn't some intangible thing that just floats around, waiting for a breeze to blow it into the hearts of unsuspecting young people high on hormones, it's this crazy combination of emotions and determination that drives you to become someone worth becoming, to bring people up with you, to lift us up where we belong, regardless of who we are.
I don't know who lost that, or when, but I want it back.
First off, universe, what is with all of the marriage hints invading my life? No, really, I want answers. OK, part of that's my fault because there have to be at least 4 weddings in The Office (by the way, the first episode I saw was Jim and Pam's wedding and I had no clue what was going on; so much better the second time; LOVE!) but, really? I counted 12 status updates that had to do with marriages, I have two awesome friends who are getting married and are definitely not at fault here at all, I've heard marriage hints on the radio and then there's this site, LoveGivesMeHope. It's like MLIA, except super sweet. I can't call it pathetic, but it's the kind of stuff that you read when you either want to cry and/or make that awwww noise that you make around babies or small cute creatures such as hedgehogs. You laugh, but really, hedgehogs, the cutest things ever. Anyway, half of the stories on this are cute old couples and I cry when I read about old people who've been together their whole lives. The worst one? Actual tears on my keyboard over this one:
My grandpa is 85 years old.
Today, I just found out that ever since his wife, his true love, had died, he put roses on her grave every Sunday.
The drive is 2 hours away from where he lives. She was 29 when she died.
Listen, I want that. Well, I don't particularly want to die when I'm 29, but if I got to live with that kind of love for whatever amount of time, I wouldn't mind. The worst days of my life are the days when I'm afraid that I'll be alone for the rest of my life or will live out my days with a husband I don't really love. I can see that happening, too, that's maybe the worst part. I can imagine a future alone. I can't see a future with anyone. There has to be something wrong with me because your answer to "Where will you be in five years?" shouldn't be "Alone."
It's just frustrating. I know I'm not old. I know that I don't need to worry about stuff like this. Some people go to college expecting to find "the one" (oh, no, I just became one of those people who puts quotes around "the one") but I also know that plenty of people don't get married straight out of college like plenty of people don't get married straight out of high school. You wait for your professional career to settle down, or you wait until you find somebody who makes you change that around. People meet people in grad school or at work or just going out somewhere... it happens all the time and you just have to be patient.
At the same time, though, you wonder what you're doing wrong. I mean, should I try harder to find someone, really put myself out there? I could dress up more, expand my wardrobe to something beyond jeans and a t-shirt and stop buying shirts from the guy's sections (but really, the best shirts are from there- my cookie monster shirt, my Led Zeppelin shirt, my glow-in-the-dark Batman shirt, my Star Wars shirt), wear make-up more often, actually care about my hair... smile at a guy every one in a while. It's just that there really hasn't been anyone (loml excluded, but really, eventually I'm going to have to stop lying to myself) worth dressing up over. I mean, I do go to Carolina, and while the gender ratio isn't that bad, once you take out the athletes, the frat boys, the guys who are taken and the guys who remove themselves and other guys from the dating pool, it's slim pickings. I just don't think learning to walk in heels is going to help that much.
Most of the time I complain about being single so that people will contradict it and make me feel better about myself. It's one of like three things that I do this for. You know, I like being independent. I like having my own space, my own thoughts, my own feelings, no matter what they are. I like being able to choose to do whatever I want to on Friday night without having to consult someone. I like having complete use of my phone without having to text somebody super frequently or, worse, call them (idea-since no one really uses italics anymore, can they just be the universal sarcasm indicator? Because then the whole last sentence would have to be in italics). I like having something to talk about other than my relationships. It makes me a deeper person and people can hear about the things I'm really interested in, not just some boy they've never met and don't care to know about. Really. It's great. And it totally gives me time to practice my witty comebacks and piercing remarks that I'll need in case I ever have to have a heated discussion over something significant, like the best kind of coffee or the proper placement of a television with limited available spacing. Why would anyone ever give this up?
Have you ever seen me on a clear, dark night? I get left by the people I'm walking with because I can't tear my eyes away from the sky. It's kinda pathetic, but I love looking at the stars, drinking in as much of the sight as I can before clouds take it away or dawn comes to remove it more permanently. I can see why people in love stare at each other. And I know that there's more to love than what we've made it into, more than mushy Valentine's Day crap. It's something fierce, it's supposed to change you, it's supposed to bring out the heroic, the best parts of humanity and make life on Earth something worth living, not just something you have to sit through until you get to the next good thing. It doesn't belong just with the lovers, it carries throughout the world into families, through the Church, through people helping people, caring for people, making a difference, loving the planet we're all stuck on, dreaming up ways to make this whole place better, making it the way it could be, not just the way it is. Love isn't some intangible thing that just floats around, waiting for a breeze to blow it into the hearts of unsuspecting young people high on hormones, it's this crazy combination of emotions and determination that drives you to become someone worth becoming, to bring people up with you, to lift us up where we belong, regardless of who we are.
I don't know who lost that, or when, but I want it back.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Painting
So I'm down visiting my grandparents with my little brother, down in the Villages in Florida, a little working vacation. It's like the Disney World of retirement communities- they have their own golf course, you can drive your golf carts wherever, their pool has a waterfall (that's broken this week, sadly) and there's every kind of club you can imagine. I believe my grandmother helped start the genealogy club and like six Scrabble clubs, goodness knows. So I've been getting an education down here, learning about my great grandparents and my dad and watching movies (ironically, my grandfather, who is taller than my little brother [who is like 6'4"] and used to coach high school football, absolutely loves Mama Mia) and eating a ton. It's about ten times more food than I consumed in the whole of the two exam weeks. Lovely.
A couple of days ago, Jackson was watching The Office. Now, I'm not really one of those people who plans evenings off to watch TV shows. I gave up on Heroes in high school because it came on TV on a day of the week that I wasn't home (pick a day, really) so I'm not that devoted to my television. And people would always ask if I've seen such and such a show and I'd have to say no, because I don't really watch that much TV. When I relax, I watch reruns of TNG or SG-1 on Scyfy or Hulu. Yup, that upped my nerd quota considerably. (PS- If you're a friend of mine and you haven't seen Star Wars *coughcoughChristinecoughcough* we need to plan a Star Wars marathon, at least the classic 3.) So you've got to believe me when I say that I've seen at most a combined 3/4 of an episode of The Office (and that one was Jim and Pam's wedding, so I had no clue what's going on).
Well, with that in mind, knowing the ending before I start, I'm perfectly happy to become an Office addict. Since I know it's going to end happily, I love watching Jim and Pam flirt and swear that they're just friends (now, more and more I'm think that Harry from When Harry Met Sally is right) and I love watching the pranks they play on Dwight. I'm not so much a fan of Michael, just because awkward and almost assuredly inappropriate humor isn't my thing, but I think Jim makes up for that. Anyhoo, I'm kinda loving The Office and plan on getting through the rest of the season in my month off. I'm almost to the end of Season 2. It's getting to be a problem, really.
We also introduce my grandmother to Skype (which she attempted to call Scalp just now... scalp? Really? like Last of the Mohicans I'm going to take your hair as a battle prize for a form of communication? Pleasant) so we talked to my mother for a bit and scared the dog down here by showing her on the webcam the dogs up in North Carolina. Now my grandmother is all prepared to have around the world communication with her children and grandchildren of various locations. She's amazed that her laptop has a webcam and is convinced that mine must also have it, I just haven't found it. Meanwhile, my real computer is sitting up at ITS because they decided that a broken fan cover, a lost hard drive cover and an ill-attached screen required a longer stay and a warranty sign off. Should have just dealt with the helicopter. Anyway. So my computer's up at ITS and I have this old Dell that I got my senior year that has so many viruses on it, programs running in DOS could go faster. Definitely no webcam. No speaker, no microphone, nothing.
At the same time, I look like a total slob. I'm covered in paint (never get me to paint anything for you- I'll look like a reverse Dalmatian and you'll have pretty well covered walls... and floors, if we don't put down paper) and I lost my hair ties in the ocean two days ago, so my hair's up in the best messy bun that a rubber band can afford (note to self, carry around extra hair ties at all times), not to mention I've got a little Cruella de Ville going on with a streak yellow paint from yesterday stuck in my hair. I have one earring in and an awesome sun burn that's brilliantly displayed by my red painting shirt. Needless to say, I'm as far from cute as possible.
We're painting the walls in my grandparents' bedroom and since it's small and packed with furniture, we're doing one wall at a time. I'm doing the baseboard since I'm the shortest and I can bend down that far, so I get the privilege of feeling like Cinderella again as I bend down on my hands and my knees in my skirt (it's the only comfortable short thing I've got- I can't wear pants with the sun-poisoning I've got on my legs), cleaning the baseboard and painting the bottom part of the wall before slapping a coat on the bottom border of the wall. We're doing it in shifts- Pancakes is painting the top part of the walls with the roller (since he's tall and a man) and I'm going in after he's done. Then he comes back in and moves the furniture and starts again. I think we're headed home after we're done, so he's in a hurry to go.
I figure that my breaks are perfect times to watch The Office, since the rest of today I won't have any internets as we drive back up I-95. Since Jackson won't let me drive, I'll have to read. Ugh. And I finished Northanger Abbey (I swear, I am Catherin, Morland) so all I've got left are the semi-academic books that I carry around to look smart. Great. So I'm making my brain as much mush as I possibly can before subjecting it to thinking. It's gotta have something to beat into shape. So here I sit, watching The Office with one headphone in and the other out, listening for someone to yell for me to come help. Sure enough, my grandmother comes in and says, "It's ready for you, Addie Jo. So come in, but you can finish your conversation first."
My conversation? 'Scuse? I'm confused, what? And then I realize that the screen that the show is playing on is about the same size as the Skype window and that it's been on one of those documentary parts where people just stand in front of the camera for a bit and talk. So now my grandmother thinks that I'm Skyping Jim from The Office. And I'm not one to correct her. Forget the fact that I look terrible and don't actually have the capability to on my computer. If my grandmother thinks I'm attractive enough to be Skyping someone attractive enough to be on TV, I'm not going to take that delusion from her.
I guess I've got to get over this whole negative outlook on my appearance. It's just not good for confidence levels. But I don't want to go around with the knowledge that I'm pretty. That'll only end in disappointment. I'd much rather be pleasantly surprised when a guy likes the way I look. And believe you me, I'd be surprised. It's been a long year, with lomls and whatnot, and it's hard to build confidence when you're shooting for the impossible. I did learn something at the beach, though. 1) Never wear your sunglasses in the waves. 2) I don't tan the way I used to. 3) I always want to jump farther. And I don't mean that I always want more (even though I do; you can't take that back) but I mean that I always want to do more than I can. OK, I've mastered riding these tiny little close to shore waves. Let me please please go out among the big waves and see what I can do out there. I have the principles down, surely I can do that. Look, I can walk across the room. A marathon surely isn't out of reach.
And it isn't. Just not today. You know, I love watching guys who are already in love. The only reason I watch romantic comedies is to watch the guys and watch their facial expressions when the girl they love tears their heart up or makes them the happiest man in the world or the stolen glances or that stereotypical moment where one of them looks up and looks down and the other one looks up and looks down and you just wait for the second when they're both going to look up and then look down, super embarrassed. It's precious. I love it. So you can see why I love The Office, because Jim's already in love with Pam and it's kinda the most precious thing ever.
I won't need a musical number or just the right moment to know. I'm studying, you know. I'll know. It might never happen, but I'm prepared nonetheless. Who knows? Maybe someone will see me hanging out the window as I try desperately to keep the side mirror on the van because the duct tape's failing and the paint won't much matter to him. We'll see.
A couple of days ago, Jackson was watching The Office. Now, I'm not really one of those people who plans evenings off to watch TV shows. I gave up on Heroes in high school because it came on TV on a day of the week that I wasn't home (pick a day, really) so I'm not that devoted to my television. And people would always ask if I've seen such and such a show and I'd have to say no, because I don't really watch that much TV. When I relax, I watch reruns of TNG or SG-1 on Scyfy or Hulu. Yup, that upped my nerd quota considerably. (PS- If you're a friend of mine and you haven't seen Star Wars *coughcoughChristinecoughcough* we need to plan a Star Wars marathon, at least the classic 3.) So you've got to believe me when I say that I've seen at most a combined 3/4 of an episode of The Office (and that one was Jim and Pam's wedding, so I had no clue what's going on).
Well, with that in mind, knowing the ending before I start, I'm perfectly happy to become an Office addict. Since I know it's going to end happily, I love watching Jim and Pam flirt and swear that they're just friends (now, more and more I'm think that Harry from When Harry Met Sally is right) and I love watching the pranks they play on Dwight. I'm not so much a fan of Michael, just because awkward and almost assuredly inappropriate humor isn't my thing, but I think Jim makes up for that. Anyhoo, I'm kinda loving The Office and plan on getting through the rest of the season in my month off. I'm almost to the end of Season 2. It's getting to be a problem, really.
We also introduce my grandmother to Skype (which she attempted to call Scalp just now... scalp? Really? like Last of the Mohicans I'm going to take your hair as a battle prize for a form of communication? Pleasant) so we talked to my mother for a bit and scared the dog down here by showing her on the webcam the dogs up in North Carolina. Now my grandmother is all prepared to have around the world communication with her children and grandchildren of various locations. She's amazed that her laptop has a webcam and is convinced that mine must also have it, I just haven't found it. Meanwhile, my real computer is sitting up at ITS because they decided that a broken fan cover, a lost hard drive cover and an ill-attached screen required a longer stay and a warranty sign off. Should have just dealt with the helicopter. Anyway. So my computer's up at ITS and I have this old Dell that I got my senior year that has so many viruses on it, programs running in DOS could go faster. Definitely no webcam. No speaker, no microphone, nothing.
At the same time, I look like a total slob. I'm covered in paint (never get me to paint anything for you- I'll look like a reverse Dalmatian and you'll have pretty well covered walls... and floors, if we don't put down paper) and I lost my hair ties in the ocean two days ago, so my hair's up in the best messy bun that a rubber band can afford (note to self, carry around extra hair ties at all times), not to mention I've got a little Cruella de Ville going on with a streak yellow paint from yesterday stuck in my hair. I have one earring in and an awesome sun burn that's brilliantly displayed by my red painting shirt. Needless to say, I'm as far from cute as possible.
We're painting the walls in my grandparents' bedroom and since it's small and packed with furniture, we're doing one wall at a time. I'm doing the baseboard since I'm the shortest and I can bend down that far, so I get the privilege of feeling like Cinderella again as I bend down on my hands and my knees in my skirt (it's the only comfortable short thing I've got- I can't wear pants with the sun-poisoning I've got on my legs), cleaning the baseboard and painting the bottom part of the wall before slapping a coat on the bottom border of the wall. We're doing it in shifts- Pancakes is painting the top part of the walls with the roller (since he's tall and a man) and I'm going in after he's done. Then he comes back in and moves the furniture and starts again. I think we're headed home after we're done, so he's in a hurry to go.
I figure that my breaks are perfect times to watch The Office, since the rest of today I won't have any internets as we drive back up I-95. Since Jackson won't let me drive, I'll have to read. Ugh. And I finished Northanger Abbey (I swear, I am Catherin, Morland) so all I've got left are the semi-academic books that I carry around to look smart. Great. So I'm making my brain as much mush as I possibly can before subjecting it to thinking. It's gotta have something to beat into shape. So here I sit, watching The Office with one headphone in and the other out, listening for someone to yell for me to come help. Sure enough, my grandmother comes in and says, "It's ready for you, Addie Jo. So come in, but you can finish your conversation first."
My conversation? 'Scuse? I'm confused, what? And then I realize that the screen that the show is playing on is about the same size as the Skype window and that it's been on one of those documentary parts where people just stand in front of the camera for a bit and talk. So now my grandmother thinks that I'm Skyping Jim from The Office. And I'm not one to correct her. Forget the fact that I look terrible and don't actually have the capability to on my computer. If my grandmother thinks I'm attractive enough to be Skyping someone attractive enough to be on TV, I'm not going to take that delusion from her.
I guess I've got to get over this whole negative outlook on my appearance. It's just not good for confidence levels. But I don't want to go around with the knowledge that I'm pretty. That'll only end in disappointment. I'd much rather be pleasantly surprised when a guy likes the way I look. And believe you me, I'd be surprised. It's been a long year, with lomls and whatnot, and it's hard to build confidence when you're shooting for the impossible. I did learn something at the beach, though. 1) Never wear your sunglasses in the waves. 2) I don't tan the way I used to. 3) I always want to jump farther. And I don't mean that I always want more (even though I do; you can't take that back) but I mean that I always want to do more than I can. OK, I've mastered riding these tiny little close to shore waves. Let me please please go out among the big waves and see what I can do out there. I have the principles down, surely I can do that. Look, I can walk across the room. A marathon surely isn't out of reach.
And it isn't. Just not today. You know, I love watching guys who are already in love. The only reason I watch romantic comedies is to watch the guys and watch their facial expressions when the girl they love tears their heart up or makes them the happiest man in the world or the stolen glances or that stereotypical moment where one of them looks up and looks down and the other one looks up and looks down and you just wait for the second when they're both going to look up and then look down, super embarrassed. It's precious. I love it. So you can see why I love The Office, because Jim's already in love with Pam and it's kinda the most precious thing ever.
I won't need a musical number or just the right moment to know. I'm studying, you know. I'll know. It might never happen, but I'm prepared nonetheless. Who knows? Maybe someone will see me hanging out the window as I try desperately to keep the side mirror on the van because the duct tape's failing and the paint won't much matter to him. We'll see.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Lord, remember not only the men of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted upon us. Remember rather the fruits we have brought, thanks to this suffering: our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart that has grown out of this. And when they come to judgment, let all the fruits we have bourne be their forgiveness.
—found on a scrap of wrapping paper
at the liberation of Ravensbruck Concentration Camp
—found on a scrap of wrapping paper
at the liberation of Ravensbruck Concentration Camp
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Post-Its
It's my last night in my dorm room. Normally this is an occasion of quasi-happiness, because I'm always ready to go home and sleep in my own not-lofted bed. But tonight, I'm going to be alone and a little sad, since my super awesome roommate has moved out and my super awesome hall mate has gone home. So, while other people are doing school years in review, I figured I'd share with you the documentation of our year- the post-it notes stuck on Clementine, our mirror.
By the way, Facebook calls blogs "drunken scribblin's" in pirate. Accurate, Facebook, Accurate.*
________________________~_____________________________
Laughter is the sunshine that warms the face. -Victor Hugo
Don't Do Drugs.
Stay in School.
No sex on the Enterprise.
Marry me Juliet, I can make your bed rock.
Are you suggesting that tiny men rape cats?
I hate sewing. I'd rather be a whore.
He must practice on melons or something.
Your mom's melons.
He's massively athletic. I'm kinda pathetic.
(About a piece of lettuce)
It will come back to you in the middle of the night and stand on your face saying LOVE ME, LOVE ME.
Our window is conveniently placed not only for Palestinian entry, but also for normal conversations. **
-Slow down!
-You just want to live!
-I want to live to be your lesbian lover!
I mean, I know I can't talk in straight lines.
I'm like the kiss of death. I draw people out of the closets they didn't even know they were in.
Drink your wine like a good girl.
You're supposed to entertain me. Dance Monkey, dance!
(About going to Istanbul)
-Now we just need money and a place to stay and a job around the time that we go.
-We got this.
-Maybe.
-Prostitution handily takes care of all those problems.
That Beatles poster is really trippy upside down. It's just like… whoa.
Prophecy mutates. Ninja turtles.
-I'm thinking of getting a futon.
-You should, that way you can name it something awesome and not have sex on it.
Just as a point of clarification- is sex on Clifford alright?
I ate your cake. I'm a horrible person.
I'll make you a new one.
Don't sledgehammer the wall and eat it. -Notes from the hall meeting
How much hot stuff has been on our carpet? Besides me?
The suicidal clock isn't up yet. It's OK to come it.
You're opening an umbrella on Friday the 13th. Do you want to break Clementine? Would that make you happy?
I had a brain wave but it ran away screaming and crying.
Fudge-monkeys in a biscuit.
(Points to shoes) See, I don't think a man could make me this happy.
Me and my mermaid throw chocolate at each other.
It's the only way to keep that last bit of sanity.
Maybe I don't have to be good but I can try to be
At least a little better than I've been so far
-The Avett Brothers
____________________________~______________________________
*People of legal drinking age do occasionally occupy our room and most of the alcohol related ones are jokes anyway.
**Which don't happen in our room.
By the way, Facebook calls blogs "drunken scribblin's" in pirate. Accurate, Facebook, Accurate.*
________________________~_____________________________
Laughter is the sunshine that warms the face. -Victor Hugo
Don't Do Drugs.
Stay in School.
No sex on the Enterprise.
Marry me Juliet, I can make your bed rock.
Are you suggesting that tiny men rape cats?
I hate sewing. I'd rather be a whore.
He must practice on melons or something.
Your mom's melons.
He's massively athletic. I'm kinda pathetic.
(About a piece of lettuce)
It will come back to you in the middle of the night and stand on your face saying LOVE ME, LOVE ME.
Our window is conveniently placed not only for Palestinian entry, but also for normal conversations. **
-Slow down!
-You just want to live!
-I want to live to be your lesbian lover!
I mean, I know I can't talk in straight lines.
I'm like the kiss of death. I draw people out of the closets they didn't even know they were in.
Drink your wine like a good girl.
You're supposed to entertain me. Dance Monkey, dance!
(About going to Istanbul)
-Now we just need money and a place to stay and a job around the time that we go.
-We got this.
-Maybe.
-Prostitution handily takes care of all those problems.
That Beatles poster is really trippy upside down. It's just like… whoa.
Prophecy mutates. Ninja turtles.
-I'm thinking of getting a futon.
-You should, that way you can name it something awesome and not have sex on it.
Just as a point of clarification- is sex on Clifford alright?
I ate your cake. I'm a horrible person.
I'll make you a new one.
Don't sledgehammer the wall and eat it. -Notes from the hall meeting
How much hot stuff has been on our carpet? Besides me?
The suicidal clock isn't up yet. It's OK to come it.
You're opening an umbrella on Friday the 13th. Do you want to break Clementine? Would that make you happy?
I had a brain wave but it ran away screaming and crying.
Fudge-monkeys in a biscuit.
(Points to shoes) See, I don't think a man could make me this happy.
Me and my mermaid throw chocolate at each other.
It's the only way to keep that last bit of sanity.
Maybe I don't have to be good but I can try to be
At least a little better than I've been so far
-The Avett Brothers
____________________________~______________________________
*People of legal drinking age do occasionally occupy our room and most of the alcohol related ones are jokes anyway.
**Which don't happen in our room.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)