Anyone can slay a dragon, she told me.

2007-12-27T20:53:00.000-08:00

"Now is the winter of our discount tents."

If you own an outdoor goods store, and you have a Shakespeare allusion in your advertising campaign, I might fall in love with you.

Have you got the nerve to give it up at the beginning? And does it hurt you?

2007-11-22T19:25:00.000-08:00

Don't you hate it when it's late Thanksgiving evening, and, even though you KNOW that there's a whole refrigerator of delicious leftovers right there, all you can think about is how you really would love a bean burrito right now?

And also, isn't it funny how microwaves always have all kinds of fancy settings to defrost and refrost and nuke a small country, but no one really uses anything but the regular old "set time" features? Just imagine the sort of left-over rehabilitating power is untapped in this country! It's unreal, man. Totally unreal.

I've probably been hanging around to many English majors lately, because I was thinking about the power of language today, and it's always English majors who put those sort of thoughts into my head. You can't see it right now, but I'm shaking my fist at you and also giving you the skinny eyes.

I was thinking about how we--we, English-speakers--should pay less attention to the necessary prepositions which influence the way in which we must feel emotion. We are afraid of. We are surprised and disgusted by. We are sad about. We are also happy about, and we can be mad about, but more often we are mad at, however, it is not appropriate to be happy or sad at, which doesn't seem fair.
If you try to cleverly evade these linguistic restrictions, by just inserting that clever little period in early. For instance, "I'm sad." But, you can pretty much bet that unless you're just talking to yourself, the response that statement will be, "What are you sad about?"

Well, you should probably know that I'm happy at my sister right now. And at my cat. Also, I'm sad at my country all the time. And I'm afraid by the world and how big it is. And I'm mad. I am anxious at my classes this week, because I have sssssooo much stuff to turn in. Oh dear.

Capax Universi

2007-11-05T23:57:00.000-08:00

Capax universi, capable of the universe are your arms
When they move with love.

And I know it is true that your feet are never
More alive than when they are in
Defense of a good
Cause.

I want to fund your efforts: Stay near beauty, for she will always
Strengthen you.

She will bring your mouth close to Hers and
Breathe – inspire you the way
Light does the
Fields.

The earth inhales God, why
Should we not do
The same?

This sacred glame we tend inside needs
The chants of every tongue,
The communion with all.

As capable as God
Are we.

- St. Thomas Aquinas, as translated by Daniel Ladinsky

And so it is, just as you said it should be. We'll both forget the breeze--most of the time.

2007-04-17T21:45:00.000-07:00

Joseph Campbell says, "Becoming is always fractional. And being is total."

Isn't that just a painful word? "Fractional." I can feel that word. It's a word that tightens my chest and makes me exhale just slightly to much or inhale not enough. "Becoming is fractional." It's supposed to be a great thing, to be "becoming." It's desirable, it's sought after, the word itself is a compliment, "becoming." It the difference between caterpillar and butterfly, ugly duckling and graceful swan. "Becoming" is a thing of metaphors, it's an expression of all that we advocate, it's what we must strive to do, lest "become" become that passive form of itself which is never to be desired.

It's exhausting, always becoming. There just seem to be so few moments of "being" in my life lately, and I'm trying to teach myself to have and to hold onto those short periods of rest throughout the day. To just "be" is a good thing. It's a holy thing, I think.

I've learned though, that there's a difference in letting myself rest and letting myself vegetate, just like there's a difference in making myself work and wearing myself out. I'm so afraid of that lethargy. I am so afraid of getting caught up in a world of nothing when there is a whole world of something to be had.

Nothing could be further from the truth, my love.

2007-02-19T19:10:00.000-08:00

And nothing is more powerful that beauty in a wicked world.

So I sit down to write, thinking, "Wow, I feel really lonely lately, and really isolated and sad, and I feel like I'm being a slacker in so many ways, and like today has just been not a good day at all, and I'm just going to write about how sad I am, and how I miss my family and blah blah blah...."

But then when I started to think about it, I mean, today hasn't actuually been a bad day at all, and I'm not sure why I thought that it had been. My room is a mess, and that's no good, but I got some research done to start putting together a newsletter for the Tuscaloosa Children's Center. I had 2 meetings to talk about Invisible Children projects and those are about to get started. I got certified in CPR. I had a really really great coffee talk with a new friend--a new friend whom I think I'm going to love very dearly. I painted some Change for Change jars and collected some new ones. I washed my rugs because something was spilled on them.

I need to do this more often. Today was a good thing. I connected with some great people. Wow, blogs are great.

I love how you can be so wildly serious, loudly soft, thoughtfully garish, lyrically logical, and chaotically organized.

2007-02-11T13:41:00.000-08:00

from freewillastrology.com...

"Your face is true and your hair is perfect and I love you. You make boats in my dreams and you speak without words and I love you. Your fears unnerve me and your questions amuse me and I love you. I love you not only for who you are, but for the interesting person I become when I'm with you. I say I love you and love you and love you until the words become the constant song of your voice in my head and the original ache of memory in my soul. I love you more than life and death, more than everything that's in between the light and the dark. Do you believe me? Try harder. Do you believe me now? I'm always with you, which is why I know you will never abandon yourself."

"Slapstick thinker with refined sensibilities seeks a saint-like sinner with insanely cool style for a long-distance joyride towards the outskirts of Nirvana. Established meditation practice and a good bedside manner are desirable. Would it be too much to ask that you might also have a high level of emotional intelligence without boring me to death with your maturity? Is it possible that you'll be an entertaining talker who also knows how to listen with your wild heart turned up all the way? Let's keep reinventing ourselves forever."

"Be my ruckus, my perfect non-sequitur. Be my circuit-breaker, my lengthening shadows at dusk, my nest of pine needles, my second-story window. Be my if-you-stare-long-enough-you'll-see. Be my subatomic particle. Be my backbeat, my key of C minor, my surly apostle, my scandalous reparté, my maximum payload. Be my simmering, seething, flickering, radiating, shimmering, and undulating."

"Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love."
-Tolstoy

"Love is like a well in the wilderness where time watches over the wandering lightning." - Pablo Neruda

Tell Her Something in My Mind Freezes Up From Time to Time

2007-02-11T01:47:00.000-08:00

I was watching this biography behind the music thing on Faith Hill once, and I don't remember much of it, but I do remember the interview with her husband, Tim McGraw. "I just don't see how anyone could be in the same room as her and not fall in love with her," he said. Oh wow. What a wonderful and terrible thing to feel about anything in the world.

It's crazy to me that the quirk that I find endearing in someone might be the very reason that someone else finds him annoying. It's even crazier that the abnormalities that I love in one person I might disdain in another. And craziest of all is that the little things about you that I love
today could very well be the things that I find repulsive in a month.

I don't want to hate you. I don't even want to dislike you. But the thing about mountains is that once you get to the top, there's no where to go but down.I hate the bitterness that comes into my voice when I say anything in reference to you. I hate that I cringe when you come near me, and that I always always assume the worst about you. But you did prove it to be true, didn't you? Again and again and a-fucking-gain, dear God, I cannot believe that I put myself through that. Don't bother pretending with me, OK? I was there for the dress rehearsal, I'm quite fine with missing the actual show.

And All the Colors Mix Together to Grey, and It Breaks Her Heart

2007-02-06T22:05:00.000-08:00

No this is how it works, there are some people that I like some times and don't like other times and that just means that when I don't I have to remember the times that I did.

The way we compromise everything that we might or might not be isn't really a compromise at all, because you can't compromise fiction that never had any basis in fact. It blows my mind how we could all so easily imagine that we become that which we pretended to hate under the facade that we have now learned to love; we are ridiculously moldible and you more so than him. I don't know if we'll ever learn to live with who we actually are instead of consoling ourselves with who we can so brilliantly pretend to be. There's some tangible pride for something that the actually honorable will never attempt.

It will be awful that those pedestals on which we pose are much easier to stand on than we make them out to be.

Nice to Meet You Anyway

2007-02-04T17:10:00.000-08:00

1. I put my player on shuffle
2. I hit next for each question
3. I cheated a little on some of them, but only a little, I promise.

What does next year have in store for me?
"I Don't Want to Be" by Gavin Degraw

Your favourite saying?
"If It's the Beaches" by the Avett Brothers

What do I think when I get up in the morning?
"Hakuna Matata" from the Lion King

What song will I dance to at my wedding?
"Falling for the First Time" by Barenaked Ladies

What do you want as a career?
"American Pie" by Don McLean

Favorite place ?
"Upward over the Moutain" by Iron and Wine

What do you think of your parents?
"We Looked like Giants" by Deathcab for Cutie

What's your Pornstar name?
"Flake" by Jack Johnson

Where would you go on a first date?
"They Are Night Zombies! They Are Neighbors!" by Sufjan Stevens

Describe yourself:
"Pretty Girl from Cedar Lane" by the Avett Brothers

The song that best describes your school principal?
"Helicopter" by M Ward

What is your state of mind like at the moment?
"Cigarette" by Ben Folds

How will you die?
"I Killed Sally's Lover" by the Avett Brother

The song you'll put as the subject?
"Nice to Meet You Anyway" by Gavin Degraw

Come on, come on. That's got to be the way

2007-01-21T21:31:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qweNX67bZc4

The Universe Always Gives Us Exactly What We Need, Exactly When We Need It.

2007-01-14T15:57:00.000-08:00

If, yesterday morning, you had said to me, "Hey, Lindsey, by this time tomorrow you're going to be in a peaceful and happy mood. You're going to be thinking about all of the things that are right and good and joyful in the world, and you're going to believe that the things that aren't right and good and joyful are still very sacred, and the world is going to be ok."

If you would've said those things to me yesterday morning, I probably would've said, "The hell?" And then continued being in a very awful and depressed mood.

Well, you didn't say those things to me yesterday, but if you had, you would get to be my new psycic friend!

I don't remember the last time I stayed up all night talking about everything and nothing in the universe. Wow. What a cool night. I don't remember the last time I felt so okay with someone. I don't remember the last time that things worked out so perfectly.

Thanks, guardian angel. Thanks a whole lot.

You laugh until you cry\ You cry until you laugh, and everyone must breathe\ until his dying breath

2007-01-13T16:50:00.000-08:00

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

It's Kind of Like a Video Game for Me, Only More Noble, I Guess

2007-01-11T21:26:00.000-08:00

A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having!

-V for Vendetta

http://ua.facebook.com/event.php?eid=2227495206&ref=share

So why can’t I keep up when you’re the only thing I'd lose?

2007-01-07T00:41:00.000-08:00

Er... Insomnia and nightmares... But I'm such a happy person, really. I just think too much.

"Some times you have to just let football be football."

Some times I think this is good advice and that I should get better at this game, and other times I think that this advice is the sort of absolute bull shit that I'm trying to overcome.

When I twist myself up in blankets and wake up tangled I think that it might be something worth trying, but then, at some point in my life I started to become really afraid to try things that I don't think I'll be good at. That's why I don't like soccer. And why I don't like learning languages. I know that I should get over this, but I'm thinking that I'll start with learning French, and then I'll work on letting be.

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.

2006-12-20T12:40:00.000-08:00

Whoa... freewillastrology.com. I'm not that into horoscopes, but this site not only has some really beautiful quotations, it also has horoscopes so good that it's scary...

Here's mine for this week:

You should and could be the zodiac's premier networker in 2007. The connections you foster and the deals you broker can save the world--or at least your local segment of the world. In order to pull it all off with maximum effectiveness, you should also be the zodiac's premier fun-maker. Throw parties, tell jokes, and constantly invite people to play harder and take themselves less seriously.

Wow, right? And here's the story that went with that at the bottom of the page:

The sage and her student were standing by a pool discussing longing and ambition.

"What do you want more than anything else?" the sage asked.

"To perfect my ability to love all of creation the way I love myself," the young man replied.

At that moment, the sage tackled the student and shoved his head beneath the water. Accustomed to letting his teacher shape the unpredictable contours of his education, he did not resist. One minute went by. Then another. The student began to struggle and kick. His teacher was strong. Finally she released her grip and the student surfaced, fighting for breath.

"What did you want more than anything else during these last few minutes?" the sage inquired.

"Nothing else was in my mind except the desire for air," gasped the student.

"Excellent," beamed the sage. "As soon as you are equally single-minded in your desire to perfect your ability to love all of creation the way you love yourself, you will achieve your goal."

I Want to Know, Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

2006-12-13T11:44:00.000-08:00

“The Enemy [God] allows this disappointment to occur on the threshold of every human endeavor. It occurs when the boy who has been enchanted in the nursery by Stories from the Odyssey buckles down to really learning Greek. It occurs when lovers have got married and began the real task of learning to live together. In every department of life it marks the transition from dreaming aspiration to laborious doing. The Enemy takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His ‘free’ lovers and servants--‘sons’ is the word He uses…if once they get through this initial dryness successfully, they become much less dependant on emotion and therefore much harder to tempt.”

Is it really?

2006-12-13T00:21:00.000-08:00

We might kiss (when we are alone)
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out (when nobody's there)
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why did you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why'd you sing hallelujah?
If it means nothing to you...

Why'd you sing with me at all?

We might live (like never before)
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more?
We might make love (in some sacred place)
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed?
From the only place you've know?
And why do you sing hallelujah?
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

So why do you fill my sorrow?
With the words you've borrowed?
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you?

Why'd you sing with me at all?

When Do I Get to Be Myself Again?

2006-12-11T22:19:00.000-08:00

I like Genevieve's 25 things. I like the idea of numbering my thoughts. Some times I like the idea of numbering anything and everything.

1. I miss crab legs, and shrimp, and that makes me think even more that I'm going to have to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life, because I don't want to stop being a vegetarian just because I like the taste of things.

2. I have to listen to classical music some times, not because I really like it, but because I need the sound, and all lyrics will all of the sudden feel really petty and silly to me. Lyrics are not petty and silly. I love lyrics. I hate doing this.

3. I am utterly unconcerned about my exams this week, and almost positive that I'm going to make A's on all of them, and entirely positive that I'm going to make A's in all of my classes, and maybe A+'s. I'm ok with this.

4. I finished Mountains Beyond Mountains. I learned a whole lot, but I've forgotten a whole lot too, because I wanted to read it so quickly that I didn't take the time to write down the parts that I loved, and I pretty much never take the time to do that and I should.

5. I don't want to do gift exchanges for Christmas. I just don't. But I feel like I have to. I just think that if I want to give someone a present I can give them a present any time I want, and I hate how Christmas makes you feel like you have to give people things, and people have to give you things. I'm just bah-humbugging. I like Christmas. I really do. I just don't feel like it right now.

6. I lost my cell phone and I hate that I've lost it. I'm SO mad at myself for that.

7. I really am trying to be in the mood for Christmas, but I can hardly even make myself want to want to be in the mood.

8. There's so much to be done.

9. I feel so selfish all the time, but I just keep going on in my damn selfish ways and I piss myself off. I'm not expressing it as much as I feel it, but inside, I'm becoming a ridiculous fanatic. It's not ok, and, again, I'm really mad at myself.

10. Camp people make me feel much better, as a rule. I want to be back at camp.

11. More than that, I want to be in Uganda, or in Haiti, or in Russia, or Peru. I know that there's suffering here, and it's not that I'm not planning on trying to fix that, but A. Our suffering is grossly less and that's just true, and B. I need to immerse myself in some where else, so that I can quit being reminded of me all the time.

12. But I really miss me, and I'm tired of just thinking about everyone else all the time, and all that's wrong with the world, and I want to be the way that I was before, and I hate that I want this.

13. I think that purely academic pursuits might be not ok with me any more, because aren't philosophy and literature and poetry just things that we do instead of actually helping people? So beauty is moving... moving toward what? I might need to change my major, because I feel like I might as well be studying fashion design or interior decorating as philosophy.

14. I hate that I have to question everything that I used to love.

15. I hate that I sound like some god-damn martyr when I'm not even changing my life in the ways that I think that I should.

16. I hate that Christianity is so wide-spread and so absolutely unheard at the same time. I don't understand how so many people are reading the gospel and not getting the part about give away all of your stuff. I don't understand why there are so many rich people.

17. I hate that when I start to number my thoughts it ends up in a list of all the things that I hate.

18. I've got to stop driving myself crazy.

19. I'm lonely for my friends but I feel so distant from everyone at school a lot of the time, because I feel like I can't stop talking about the same things over and over again and I can't care about the things that everyone cares about, and I've got to stop condemning people in my head for caring about things that I KNOW are important to them, and I hate that I'm so judgmental and I've got to stop expecting everyone to be Jesus fucking Christ.

20. I have no right to be so upset about all of these things when my life is so wonderful. I have no right to be sad about all of this and it's just another way that I am incredibly selfish.

21. I'm jealous when I think of him laughing with other girls and having gentle conversations with them and inviting them out to eat Chinese food. I'm lonely for him even when I'm with him and I'm afraid that I will never be in love with anyone completely.

22. The decision is yours because my decision has always been that I want whatever you want, that I want what makes you happy, whether it makes me happy or not, because it is my responsibility to make myself happy, and I want to make you happy too, even if the only way to do that is to pretend like I don't care either way.

23. I'm horribly melodramatic.

24. I'm still so attached to my car and I hate that I am, because there is no reason for me to have a car when I don't really need one, and why in the world should I be attached to so much stuff that is just stuff.

25. Something in my life has got to change, and soon. I am making myself miserable and not doing anybody any good and I DON'T have any reason to be sad. I want to yell at myself until I acknowledge all of this but I can't. And I know that it all seems unreasonable, but show me the flaw in my logic, and not just in some appeal to emotion that says it's ok to go on with your life while children are dying from treatable diseases, because God wants us to be happy and the world is beautiful, and you'll never fix everyone anyway, because that's just exactly the problem, and I don't want to hear that bullshit. Do what you can. We all do what we can. Fuck that. We are not doing what we can when we have i-pods and luxury every where while some people are lucky to have a concrete floor in their home. We are NOT doing all that we can, and show me some part of the Gospel that says that's love, that says you can do that and still claim agape, and tell me do the children who sleep in the streets to avoid being mutilated, do they feel the love? or the prisoners of Siberia who serve 3 years in an AIDS and TB infested prison that holds hundreds of thousands of people who have maybe murdered or maybe only stolen a loaf of bread, do they feel the love? Fuck this Gospel of Excuses and Pardons for We Who Sleep on Down Blankets while children are massacred and adults are wasting away.

We're better than those priests who sold indulgences to guarantee heaven? Give away a little and you can write yourself off as a good person, right? Because no one ever said you had to give it all. Oh wait... I think someone might have said that? We are deliberately not listening. We are deliberately turning our heads. I am deliberately closing my eyes. I am so god-damn sick of myself.

And When I See You, I Really See You Upside Down

2006-12-11T08:34:00.000-08:00

I know you've seen these pictures before. What you see really only depends on whether you're focusing on the positive space or the negative space, right? And if you kind of let your eyes relax, and just let yourself look at the picture, then it's almost like it just shifts from one to the other or to something that's just a drawing, and a drawing is what it definitely is. But, if you focus too much on one or the other- the positive space or the negative, then that will be the only one that you're ever going to see, and it might even seem crazy for you to hear that other people see something entirely different living in these lines. Which is strange, because the person who CAN see two different pictures might think it's entirely crazy for you to even say that you don't see them both. Or see them all. Or at least see the ones that they see.

Maybe we're all just looking for someone who's on the same page, and that's harder than it sounds because the pages never stop turning, not even for a second, except maybe for that brief moment when you just know that they have, when the laugh lines on someone's face wrinkle in just the right way, or when the air outside is just exactly the wrong temperature so that you have to laugh, or when you cry for so long that you let go of your crying, or when you look at me in just that way.

Any way, it really is all about perspective, and some times you can choose to see things a certain way. and sometimes you can't.

You Are My Sweetest Downfall

2006-12-09T23:12:00.000-08:00

So... I'm more drunk than I think I am. Some of the numbness in my hands that I attributed to cold... turns our it's more from the drunk. I am much less adroit when intoxicated and when cold... understandable that I could be confused about the cause of my lack of finger mobility.

I Can't Wait to Figure Out What's Wrong with Me, So I Can Say, "This Is the Way That I Used to Be."

2006-11-19T09:23:00.000-08:00

"Africa? How was Africa? Africa was amazing. Africa is amazing. Africa is a million and one things. It is a land of contradictions, and a land of great controversy. Africa is more diverse than any other place on the planet. It has experienced the greatest combination of foreign thievery and foreign goodwill. It is plagued with individuals who are hurting, dirty, and dying. It is plagued with rich leaders. It is strong, joyful and resilient. Africa is filled to the brim with song, dance and soccer. It feels your lungs with life with every burnt breath. It feels your eyes with tears with every sight. The sun blazes, the rain pours. It has more sky than your eyes could possibly take in. Africa is humbling. Africa rips the heart out of your chest and buries it in the rich red soil, knowing that you will someday return, to see the growth. And there is no doubt it will grow. Africa is dangerous, welcoming, and addictive. It is prosperous. It is poor. It is all too overwhelming. Africa knows the value of friendship. Time is not money in Africa. And money goes a long way. Africa holds a mirror up to your soul - letting you see all your selfish desires, and not letting go, until you're completely broken."

-Invisible Chilren

If I Had a Dime for Every Hand Thrown Up in the Air, My Wealth Would Render This No Less Severe

2006-11-15T23:44:00.000-08:00

What am I going to do with you?

And Cover Everything With Love

2006-10-30T22:51:00.000-08:00

So you can try to live in darkness but you will never shake the light. It will greet you every morning and make you more aware with its absence at night, when you are wrapped up in your blanket baby, that comfortable cocoon.

But I have seen the day of your awakening boy and it's coming soon.
So go ahead and loose yourself in liquor and you can praise the clouded mind, but it isn't what you are thinking it's the course of history, your position in line. [You are just a piece of the puzzle so I think you had better find your place.] And don't go blaming your knowledge on some fruit you ate.

Because there has been a great deal of discussion, yes, about the properties of man. Animal or angel? You were carved from bone, but your heart- it's just sand. And the wind is going to scatter it and cover everything with love.

I might be reentering my Bright Eyes phase.

You should've started with "the thing about icebergs is..."

2006-10-20T23:42:00.000-07:00

One day, you should ask me to sit down and tell you the story of my life so far.

Eupnoea

2006-10-19T23:33:00.001-07:00

Breathing in is an active movement, with the contraction of the diaphragm muscles needed. Even though you normally inhale without consciously thinking about it, you're still exerting some effort. Exhaling, however, is a passive process powered by the elastic recoil of the chest.

Not only do you breath out without trying, you have to make an effort to not breath out, otherwise your lungs just naturally deflate like balloons.

So, everyone dies on an exhale, right? That's a good thing.

Lately I find myself having to constantly remind myself to exhale, or to allow myself to exhale, to breathe normally. It's actually getting to be a real hassle, especially when I'm going to sleep. There's that old joke about the blonde who's listening to a tape that repeats "Breathe in, breathe out" because she's too dumb to remember to do it on her own. I'm totally that girl.

In my head I'm having to dictate breathing patterns to myself, and when I start to think about other things I have to stop because you can only hold your breath for a very short time, and by the time I re-regulate myself I've forgotten what it was that I was thinking about. This is theory number one about why I'm not just breathing like a normal person: it's my body's clever ploy to stop me from ending up in the the ridiculous spurts of emotion and confusion that are a result of thinking too much.

Then I learned some new things today that lead to further theories. For example, humans typically breathe between 12 and 20 times per minute, with children breathing faster than adults. Babies can breathe as much as 40 times per minute. So, as you grow older you get, the less frequently inhale, even though it seems like you would need more oxygen, but then I guess you have bigger lungs. Actually, I remember thinking when I was little that everyone only got a certain amount of breaths that God had precounted, so when I die my last thought might be if only I hadn't gone to PE that day I would have at least another half an hour left to live. But back to the thing about adults breathing less, I'm maybe trying to be a grown-up whether I like it or not, and this is part of that plan. That's theory number 2.

Theory number 3 is that I have some rare disease (besides any sort of anemia, which does cause shortness of breath, but I've been anemic for a long time and this is not the same kind of breathing trouble that it causes) and I'm probably going to forget breathing one day and then we'll get some doctor to give us some real evidence for Theory number 3.

Bo ran away. Or walked away. Or crawled away. Or fucking flew away, the point is he's not here, and he hasn't been here, and it's raining. My dad took him outside to get some fresh air on Wednesday morning, and left him alone for less than 5 minutes, and he's gone. (Exhale.) How the hell does a cat who can barely walk get so far in 5 minutes? I have no idea, but I looked for him for hours and hours, and all I can guess is that he just really doesn't want to be found.

I think that he crawled away so that he could die alone.

The thing is, he was pretty healthy other than his leg, so he might not die at all, but just be in a lot of pain.

The other thing is, I want to see him and I don't care if he wants to see me, and that's very selfish of me I know and I feel just awful about it but I need to see him very badly, and my parents had even decided to pay for his surgery, and he was going to be okay, and (Exhale.) now all I can do is sit outside and call his name as if he's going to answer and it's almost worse than being 3 hours away because at least I never felt the urge to look for him in Tuscaloosa.

The other other thing is that I knew I should've come home on Tuesday night then everything would be fine right now and in the future when I review my priorities, things that I love will be so much ahead of all the other things that you'll need one of those skewed graphs just to view it, and I will skip ten thousand tests if it means that I can have just one more day with anything that I love a forth as much as I love Bo, and god damn it why didn't I already do that anyway?

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Here in Our Hollow We Fuse Like a Family, But I Will Not Mourn for You

2006-10-06T16:10:00.000-07:00

Genevieve Turkett is cascading white Christmas lights reflected on your car window and superimposed onto your face. She is the warmth left in the nest after the last baby bird has learned to fly. She is one thousand first loves. Genevieve Turkett does not cry over spilled milk, but she will mourn a lost kitten for weeks and weeks. She loves the word "fuck." She loves beautiful women with curves and kicks and sexy lingerie. She is a mythical palace of unfinished wood. She is a hand sewn quilt made from scraps of your favorite childhood daydreams. Genevieve Turkett is dark purple satin fused with Egyptian cotton.
She's fighting one hundred million internal battles and dancing two hundred million internal ballets and you would never know it unless you noticed how she's always careful to pirouette over shrapnel.

Genevieve Turkett is bubbly, but not carbonated--a non-renewable resource. She is simultaneously bold and subdued. She's not inflammable, but somehow she's already burning. Genevieve Turkett is your inspiration and you don't even know it; future generations will think she was a goddess and a myth. She is not a myth. She is one thousand true loves.
Genevieve Turkett is sultry like sipping brandy and raw like whisky breath. She forgets to fold her clothes. She forgets to hang up her halo. She is anime Ella Fitzgerald. She loves unconditionally. She's your favorite bed time story in a full scale Broadway production with lyrics by Elton John. She is fairy tales. Genevieve Turkett is open blinds at sunset. Some times you have to remind her to shower. Some times you have to remind her to breathe. She is cluttered and chaotic and collaged beyond recognition. She has to deal with imaginary problems because no one else is willing to address the important issues that exist outside of reality. She is arts and crafts and groceries and kittens in cups. She is one thousand lost loves.

I wish there was an over-the-counter test for loneliness.

2006-09-18T22:08:00.000-07:00

I might be turning into the kind of person that I would hate.

I wish that I could put my finger on whatever it is that's making me so stressed out all the time. In fact, the fact that I don't know exactly what it is that's stressing me out makes me even more stressed. That sounds like it doesn't make sense, but it does, because I feel like there's something that I'm missing, something nagging at my mind and reminding me that everything is not settled, and I just can't put my finger on what exactly it is that I haven't gotten done, so I try to complete every little task that could possibly be on my mind, but I just can't seem to get any relief.

I'm very much feeling like I would really like a relationship right now. I'm also very much feeling like I would like it skip exciting and go strait to comfortable. That's not true... that's just what I want tonight.

This week needs to hurry up and be over. This is not a good week.

If you stay, the walls will admit their cracks, see it forming, already on their lips.

2006-08-17T11:28:00.000-07:00

I've become infatuated with the sound of my own heartbeat and if I can't hear my self breathe then I start to drown in the rest of the world's exhale. I'm trying to go butterfly but cocoons are so damn hard to find when you're not looking for them....

Forgive me for that.

Anyways, I started keeping a journal, and I'm not really much for blogging. Maybe the mood will end shortly, but I don't think I'm going to be updating much for a while.

Thanks.

That's All I Got

2006-08-14T23:44:00.000-07:00

Oh Snail, Climb Mount Fuji. But slowly, slowly!

2006-08-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

So here goes...

Where do I even start to write about this summer? Or ever to think about this summer? I feel I've changed, but it's one of these changes that you maybe need a special pair of 3D glasses to see it. Hey, I would really like all of y'all to remember that glasses don't really change things at all; even though when you wear them the whole world is different, they only change you. And if they're special 3D glasses that for some reason only change those certain things that were really 3D all along, then the point is, they were 3D all along.

You can't see this, but I've written three different paragraphs and then deleted each one. I just can't type out Camp McDowell.... I can't. If you were there then you know, but if you weren't, I'm not a skilled enough writer to tell you.

Hey, let's hang out a while? Call me.

Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth, like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

2006-08-02T20:42:00.000-07:00

The Archipelago of Kisses

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn't be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You'll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don't invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whisky. It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

The Benjamin Franklin of Monogamy

Reminiscing in the drizzle of Portland, I notice
the ring that's landed on your finger, a massive
insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end

of a long tunnel. Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt
in your voice under a blanket and said there's two kinds
of women—those you write poems about

and those you don't. It's true. I never brought you
a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed.
My idea of courtship was tapping Jane's Addiction

lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M.,
whiskey doing push-ups on my breath. But I worked
within the confines of my character, cast

as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan
of your dark side. We don't have a past so much
as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power

never put to good use. What we had together
makes it sound like a virus, as if we caught
one another like colds, and desire was merely

a symptom that could be treated with soup
and lots of sex. Gliding beside you now,
I feel like the Benjamin Franklin of monogamy,

as if I invented it, but I'm still not immune
to your waterfall scent, still haven't developed
antibodies for your smile. I don't know how long

regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don't know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light

of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that's just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing

into each other's ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—didn't make the silence
any easier to navigate. I'm sorry all the kisses

I scrawled on your neck were written
in disappearing ink. Sometimes I thought of you
so hard one of your legs would pop out

of my ear hole, and when I was sleeping, you'd press
your face against the porthole of my submarine.
I'm sorry this poem has taken thirteen years

to reach you. I wish that just once, instead of skidding
off the shoulder blade's precipice and joyriding
over flesh, we'd put our hands away like chocolate

to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy
of each other's eyelashes, translated a paragraph
from the volumes of what couldn't be said.

So... Jeffrey McDaniel might be my new favorite person.

Fish have also been know to doubt the existance of water.

2006-07-15T21:15:00.000-07:00

I miss camp.

Look at What the Light Did Now.

2006-06-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm in love with life as we know it.

This week, for instance, is lacking in prose, and I'm okay with that. I'm serious about this family, kids. They're some kind of exciting. The night before last at about 11pm my 3 siblings and 2 of our cousins decided to spend some quality time on the beach. Just family, the ocean, the stars, and a few gin and tonics.

After about 30 minutes of quality time, we, or more accurately, I, needed a cigarette. Unfortunately, the closest cigarettes available were at a gas station about 2 miles down the road. My family, in this intoxicated state, decided that a two mile walk was no big deal, and so we commenced on our journey.

At this point I guess I should mention where I am right now. I'm on vacation with my family of 6 and my mom's brother's family of 8, along with a family of 4 friends, not to mention my dad's brother's family, also of 4. We vacation on Anna Maria Island, which, while ridiculously beautiful and relaxing, is also a bit of a retirement town. Not that I'm complaining- I love it here.

The unfortunate part of vacationing in such a quiet town is that at the ungodly hour of 12 midnight, most island businesses, including afore mentioned gas station, are closed. Still, after walking a full two miles, we were pretty determined to at least achieve SOMEthing. So, we continued walking.

We continued walking for 6 miles.

When we finally arrived at a 24 hour Circle K, we were pretty much all ready for a cigarette, even though I'm the only one of us who actually smokes. We sat down and considered our journey thus far, and decided that the walk back was going to be zero fun. An eight mile walk is something of a buzz-kill, but it's an adventure at least. A 16 mile walk is just a bitch.

So, instead of taking the long trek back, we flagged down the one and only taxi driver who works that late, by the one and only bar that's open that late. Luckily, his taxi was an SUV, so all 6 of us could fit somewhatg easily.

Our taxi driver was kind of a big deal. First of all, he was at least 55 years old, smoking a Marboro 100, and just as personable as you can be. Best of all, his name was Dewy. Seriously? I couldn't make this shit up.

So, after a quick trip with Dewy back to our side of the island, we laid out on the beach and talked over the idea of spending the night under the stars. We discussed this thought over straight gin, which is something pretty handy when it comes to convincing a group of teenagers to just pass out right then and there.

After about 15 minutes on the beach, one of my cousins thought he spotted a dog ab out 30 yards down from us, coming out of the ocean. When we went to check it out--whoa, hello, as if this night needed any more excitement--we see that it's not a dog at all, but a giant sea turtle coming to lay her eggs on the beach.

Pretty much one of the coolest things I've ever seen in real life.

More on this later, I'm pretty tired of typing at this point....

The yellow jackets were vindictive that summer...

2006-06-19T16:26:00.000-07:00

... that's how I'm going to begin my memoirs.

The Peace Corps is an independent federal agency of the United States designed to promote mutual understanding between Americans and the outside world

2006-06-15T22:33:00.000-07:00

I constantly think about the fact that I should be saving the world, and I'm not.

I usually just brush it off because I don't know what to do or where to start, but you have no idea how guilty I feel about everything that is so wrong right now. Like, whenever adults come and talk to our camp staff and say something like, "Y'all are doing great work here, making a difference," I want to scream.

Yep, quite a difference here, teaching peace and love to upper-middle class kids who have never know anything other than peace and love anyway. I've heard it said that problems are not relative. So I shouldn't judge the reality of my own problems based on the severity of others' problems. To some extent I guess that's true, but to a greater extent, it's kind of bullshit.

My biggest concern at age 19 is some kind of abstract worry about what to do with the next 60 of my life. If I lived in Swaziland, I might be wondering what to do with the next 15 years of my life, but more likely, I would have some more concrete things on my mind.

I'm so frustrated and I don't know how to stop thinking about everything that I can't possibly fix. I just feel so guilty about things. And I want a big house, and lots of kids, and art work in my living room, but how can I ever possibly be ok with having all of those things when people are dying from lack of clean drinking water?

And the idea of just sitting and praying for those people? What utter bullshit. As if some desperate mother in some tiny 3rd world country is going to think, "Oh, gee, some suburban American is praying for me from her padded kneeler in church. I feel so much better about my children's slim chance for survival," And that's going to make her life better?

I need to join the Peace Corps.

Actually, after reading the Wikipedia article on the Peace Corps, I've changed my mind. I'm not joining an organization started as an "army of young Americans to act as missionaries of democracy." Also, the head of the P.C. is quoted as saying, "The Peace Corps are trying to get more diverse volunteers of different ages. This is important so that the Peace Corps can look "more like America."

Er....

Jai Guru Deva Om. (Thanks to the Divine Teacher)

2006-06-15T15:14:00.000-07:00

I've been at Camp McDowell for almost a month straight. Is that a good thing or a bad thing or a nothing thing? I think it's a good thing.

I really miss my friends from Tuscaloosa a whole lot. I miss my life in Tuscaloosa. At the same time, this summer is exactly what I need.

I absolutely cannot go back to school this fall and for get who I am all over again--cause that's what keeps happening to me, and it's more trouble than it's worth to tell you the truth. I figure out who I am, and I get really ok with that, and then I slowly start to forget little things about who I am--like first I might forget whether or not I like for my toenails to be painted, or exactly which place on my neck I like to be kissed--and then I forget more and more little things until one day when I check in my "self archives" (which should be completely full, because, hello, if I don't keep up with me then who will?!) and I find that they're in complete disarray, and I have to start figuring myself out all over again, and I end up having to rewrite a lot of things that I know I already had figured out before. It's not that I mind rewriting,--that's very important and we should all rewrite as often as needed-- but when I can't remember what was ever there in the first place, there's a problem. Is this entirely too complicated to make sense? It makes sense in my head.

Anyway, by the end of this summer I should have things strait again, although my freshman year of college was something like a hurricane that occurred inside me. Which is ok, because I've had worse internal disasters before, particularly earthquakes. I've also discovered though, that when I'm in sorting mode, like I am right now, I have trouble summoning up the kind of emphatic and rapid excitement that you kids might be expecting.

Also, I kind of think that I just don't have it in me any more. I can't feel my kindred Mercury in my blood. I'm not intense and emotional anymore. I feel pretty calm actually. Centered even. Maybe my fever is gone?

I don't want it to be.

I leave for the beach tomorrow, and I'm pretty darn excited. Hopefully I'll stay strong in my efforts to not get a tan, mostly because I love the irony of being ultra concerned about skin cancer while smoking cigarettes. Which, P. S. I did not do for 10 days and was absolutely fine, thereby proving my point that I am not, in fact, addicted.

We'll see how I do with the SPF protection.

There's No Combination, No Words I Could Put on the Back of a Postcard.

2006-06-02T18:19:00.000-07:00

I'm hoping this will be a long post, because it'll most certainly be the last one for at least eleven days, and I have lots to write about. Or, about which to write. You just witnessed an internal battle of Desire to be Grammatically Correct vs. Fear of being an Anal Retentive. I'll let you decide who won. Also, in case you were wondering just what "anal retentive" actually means, (because I was wondering just that!) it is defined as

"Indicating personality traits, such as meticulousness,
avarice, and obstinacy, originating in habits, attitudes, or values associated with infantile pleasure in retention of feces."

Um... ew. My reading that definition =score one for Fear of being an Anal Retentive. At the same time, I'm wondering if it shouldn't be "anally retentive"? If one can be "anal," then anal is, in this case, an adverb describing how one is retentive-- isn't it? Oh me, if only you kids knew how I stress over grammar, and I just can't seem to quit. I guess if I have to be stressed about something, and I do, grammar is at least a cause about which I can be passionate. AND, if I can't stop stressing about it, then there's no point in my stressing about stressing.

Oh me, this is not where I was intending to go with this post at all.

I've officially survived my first session as a camp counselor with her own cabin and lots and lots of responsibility! I, for one, am proud of me. I woke my campers up on time every day! I made them all take showers almost every night! I even had fun doing it all. I really like kids. Well, most of them... I will admit that two of those little bitches got on my nerves, and I could've had more patience with them. But two out of eight... actually, that's one fourth of my cabin, so maybe I'll work of that being nice to kids I don't like thing.

But nine year olds should NOT ask me what time it is 7 hundred thousand times a day. Analog clocks are hard.

Also, I forgot to do in cabin bible study with them one out of two days that I was supposed to. I decided that was okay though, because I'm only half Episcopal any way.

In other news, I bought I ton of national geographic magazines from the 70s and 80s. I'm using them to collage this ond suitcase that I bought at the thrift store. I also got some used picture frames for 25 cents apiece to collage. I consider myself pretty darn crafty. The cool part is that I was just intending to cut up all of the magazines, but I ended up reading most of the articles, which were mostly about the USSR and new technology called fiber optics. Also there are advertisements for microwaves.

I'm spending a lot of time with myself at camp, and, I've decided that, although I really like myself, there are some things that I maybe should work on. Coincidentally, one of those things that I decided to work on is remembering that I need to be happy with myself. As you can see, with this being the first thing I decided to work on, I get a little unconcerned about the rest of the necessary changes because, hey, remember? I like myself already! Number 2 on the list is remembering that I'm not necessarily the only one who matters. And that people who I do not like are still people, and I should be nice to them, without being fake nice.

Also, I need to make up my mind, or maybe just stop talking. Because things just pop out that I don't mean at all, and that's not a big deal when I'm telling you that I used to live in Haiti, but it is a big deal when I'm telling you that I just need some time and maybe some space when that's not really what I need to be saying at all. I really wish that someone would just go ahead and hate me to teach me the lesson I deserve. Or that it would just dawn on me.

Do things dawn on you, kids? Cause the important things never come to me so gently as dawn seems to some. I think things have to erode into me.

I fearlessly removed a grandaddy longlegs from the shower in my cabin, without even killing him. Well, I was outwardly fearless. Or, fearless when compared to the screaming 8-year olds around me. Anyway, it's really important to me that my campers hopefully left camp thinking that it's really not fair to hurt something or someone just because you think that you have more of a right to this planet than he does. Cause maybe do, but also, maybe you don't.

Also, it's nice to know that there's a spider out there who owes me one. Interestingly enough, grandaddy longlegs are NOT in fact, the most poisonous spiders in the world with a mouth that's too small to bite humans. I saw that on MythBusters, and it was, most assuredly, busted. Their venom is, however, virtually harmless to humans.

I still think I'm pretty brave for catching one in a cup. Also, I'm always going to be scared of grasshoppers and those beetles with the giant fang looking things. I looked for a picture of them on Google but just looking at different kinds of them kind of scared me, so I stopped.

You know which ones I mean though.

This blog is ridiculously long. Go back and read the whole thing some time though. I'm telling you, it's a good one.

Well if I was in your position, I'd put down all my ammunition; I'd wonder why it had taken me so long.

I can't always be waiting on you.

If They Try to Tell You Love Fades With Time, Then Tell Them There's No Such Thing as Time.

2006-05-18T21:14:00.000-07:00

This is quite possibley my last post for a while, ladies and gentlemen.. I know, I know, you're fantastically and inconsoably stricken with enormous grief. But, fear not, because I shall return with lots of new incite and excitment for your reading pleasure.

For those of you who truly truly love me, you can send me a letter or a package!

Lindsey Mullen
c\o Camp McDowell
105 DeLong Rd.
Nauvoo, AL 35578

OR, better yet, you can come visit me, or call me and invite me to visit you, and I will certainly do my best to do so! Here's a link to camp schedule... The days when there are no sessions are the days that I am off. BUT, should you call me sometime when I am in session you may simply leave be a message, and rest assured that if I love you enough, then I will return your phone call.

Wonderful people today for too short of a visit. I'll miss you kids :(.

It's going to be an exciting summer though, and I'm sure it will absolutely fly by. And I'll be seeing you all in less than 3 months, right?

Between now and then, until I see you again, I'll be loving you.

Love, Me.

We're Just Dancing in the Dark.

2006-05-16T17:16:00.000-07:00

Strait A's bitches.
AND I'm going to Montgomery tomorrow!
AND I'm leaving for camp on Friday
AND I get to see my sister for the first time in forever.
AND I just got all of these totally sweet posters for free.
AND I got a shoutout on Sarah Widgeon's blog.
AND I got to have a 2 hour lunch with one Blair Bowens, the coolest cat on the block.
AND I got to see my little sister drugged out on morphine like a champion.

I feel like one hundred dollars.

So Would I Be Out of Line if I Said "I Miss You"?

2006-05-14T19:40:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about everyone being estranged from one another is that everyone updates their blogs, and that's fantastically exciting, but also kind of tragic, because everyone is missing each other so much.

It's weird how there are different ways of missing people. Like, when you miss someone, and you know that they miss you back--well that's really hard because you both know that the other misses you too, but there's noting you can do about it. This kind of missing makes you really upset about circumstances, but at the same time, you at least know that you're missed too, and I think that's comforting.

And then there's the kind of missing people where you know that they're doing something really exciting, so it's not that they don't miss you, but they're not thinking about you. This one sucks--well, they all suck, but this one in particular--because you get that awful realization that life goes on without you. And that people seem to have just as much fun when you're gone.
Sometimes when I get in this situation I have to convince myself, and later, whomever I was missing, that I was having a fabulous time as well--probably a more fabulous time than he or she was having. That makes me feel a little better, especially because sometimes when you convince yourself that you're having fun, you actually have more fun than you thought you would. But overall, it's a pretty silly tactic.

There's also the pretty painful kind of missing that you feel when you want to be with someone who does not want to be with you. The fact that he (I'm going to just start using "he" instead of "he or she." I'm not PC ok, but I pronoun anecendents are a petpeeve) Anyway, the fact that he doesn't want to be with you when you do want to be with him makes you feel very unloved and unhappy. The worst part about this one is that you're not going to get to be with this person again, so the only way to stop missing him is to hate him, which is pretty much not fair, but oh well.

Then there's the kind of missing someone when you know he's not coming back. Actually, that was just a euphimism. What I meant was, "Then there's the kind of missing someone when he's dead." The other kinds of missing someone aren't even in the league with this one, and I'm not going to talk about it really because that's aother post for another day altogether.

These all still have that common feeling though. It's like you can't stop sighinh in your head, and every single though you have is followed by a tiny little esacpe of breath- a tiny little reminder that someone who should be with you is not. Sometimes you just stop missing people, but I think that other times the sighs of your thoughts just get to be somethings you don't notice, kind of like a clock that's constantly ticking. BUT once the missing is finally over, you definitely remember what life was like before that, and what a fantastic relief.

Er.. this post made me feel better and worse at the same time. I feel better about people I miss in the first way, but worse about people I miss in the last way.

hmm... sigh...

With These Revisions, and Gaps in History--

2006-05-13T17:17:00.000-07:00

The responses I received for my last blog were some kind of wonderful.

I appreciate it a lot.

I'm really not as emo as you think though; I think might come off as depressed and angsty sometimes, but there are a lot of good things going on in my life too. But to quote a Rilo Kiley song, "no one wants to pay to see your happiness." I feel the need to keep you kids updated on my spurts of Conoresqe (that's right, I just invented a word...) emotion.

Bowl of Oranges is really it though, and I know it!

Everyone else seems to be giving the "one chapter of my life over..." post, but I don't think I will at the moment, seeing as I am excessively tired.

I will, however, recap the last few months at a later time. Right now I'm just too damn tired.

I Survive on the Breath You Are Finished With.

2006-05-11T00:57:00.000-07:00

What will I do when I'm left alone?

It's really starting to hit me that in less than two days, my world is going to once again dissolve, and it occurs to me that I am the only thing in my life that will be with me forever, and that makes me feel pretty lonely. Of course I have God and all that jazz, but in my mind God is a part of me, and the Christ in me is such a part of me that I consider it to be a part of my self.

It occurs to me that this Saturday we're all going to different places to be different people, and the world that is my current reality is going to be reduced to nothing more than a memory- a figment- and recording that plays differently in your memory than it does in mine, and I am so scared that without all of you to remind me and reassure me of what is real, it'll all fade into that collective idea of "who I used to be." Kind of like what St. Joe became when I moved to Deshler, and what Deshler became when I moved to Tuscaloosa.

The transition to college was so huge because I had to move my home life to the background, and school became what was real to me. Even now, I'm not uncomfortable at home, but part of me is always whispering, "This isn't where I belong any more! I belong in the lobby or asleep in the boys' room. I belong at the Ferg or Ben and Chase parties. I belong in the alcove or at the benches. I belong with my friends who know everything that I've gone through this year--who went through the same things! This girl whose pictures are all over the walls--she's a piece of me. But I'm more now. I'm constantly becoming more, and the person who you think that I am- she's less than me."

I think that when you drive away, and I'm left here alone to load my car for the last time, I might have a panic attack. I'm so scared that we'll come back in the fall, and I'll look at you all and you'll look at me, and something inside me will whisper, "This person that I think you are, he's less than you." Or she's less than you. There are so many people here who I absolutely love so much, and selfish as it is, I can already cry for the person that each of you is right now, because I know that you're going to change, and I don't want you too. Ya'll are my world, you're my belonging, you're my proof that I am not who I used to be, and I love you all so much.

Here I go again, you're not even gone yet, and I miss you insanely.

Please come back to me. Please don't topple the pillars that hold up my Modern world, let me return to find them worn or renovated, but not completely new or completely gone. I'm not ready for you to fade into antiquity yet.

Let me come back and find that you're still flighty and unreliable. That you still make me smile when you come around and make me hope that I'll have you for a long long time, even though I know that you are a vagabond at heart.

That you still look at me like I know something worth knowing, that you still can't reconcile yourself with yourself, that you still won't compromise what just seems logical.

That you still love whole heartedly.

That you still can't bite your tongue. That you still know how to bring out the best in people, and that you're still willing to put forth the effort.

That your relationship is still worth my envy and love. That in spite of the efforts of the world and yourself, you still can't help but believe in the perfect world you've always known.

That you still know how to make everyone smile. That I still get you, because I've only recently begun to understand, and it's not fair for you to be gone when I've only just started to forgive you for my being such an idiot.

Don't let me hold onto you in my heart for the whole summer only to look up in the fall and find that my arms are empty. Please come back; I can't breathe without you just yet. Please. I need you.

I Spent the Whole Day Writing This Wrong.

2006-05-08T22:19:00.000-07:00

Exams exams... how unfun you are!

At the beginning of this school year I remember having a very heartfelt conversation about genuine knowledge, and how awful it was that everyone in college doesn't really want to know, they just want to pass. I thought that college was my chance to really search for answers to life, to read good books and learn processes and celebrate knowing.

Fuck that.

I mean, don't disregard it completely. It's very noble and very exciting to think that there might actually be simple answers to all of our complicated questions. But the thing is, why do we need the answers at all?

Somewhere along the way I picked up this notion that there was some point I am trying to reach- some certain thing that I have to learn and then life will start. Then I would be real. Sometimes I think of it as getting back to something, like at some point I would find what I lost, and sometimes I think of it as something I never had, but I know people who have, or who do.

But really, life is already, and it's as simple as that. I know how childish and silly and selfish it is for me to look at life and just say, "I want to be happy, and that's it," but if you want honesty than that's it. I want quiet, simple, fantastically exciting and excited happiness.

Nor The Arrow That Flies By Day

2006-05-06T06:17:00.000-07:00

At the end of the day, when I am lying in bed and I know the chances of any of our theology being exactly right are a million to one, I need to know that God has things figured out, that if my math is wrong we are still going to be okay. And wonder is that feeling we get when we let go of our silly answers, our mapped out rules that we want God to follow. I don't think there is any better worship than wonder.

- Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz

(stolen from Austin Kendrick's profile)

I'll Be Captivated, I'll Hang from Your Lips

2006-05-01T02:42:00.000-07:00

Worth it. So totally worth it.

These Are Funny Because I Say They're Funny.

2006-04-29T21:19:00.000-07:00

http://www.whiteninjacomics.com/comics/atoms.shtml

http://www.whiteninjacomics.com/comics/emotions.shtml

http://www.whiteninjacomics.com/comics/bloodbath.shtml

http://www.whiteninjacomics.com/comics/job.shtml

I've Been Dying to Get Out, and That Might Be the Death of Me.

2006-04-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

Really, I come up with about three hundred thousand good blog topics a day, but then it comes down to it, and I'm too lazy to write about anything significant.

If You Don't Like My Fire, Then Don't Come Around

2006-04-21T12:57:00.000-07:00

I wrote this Friday morning... just now published though.

Remind me that I want to stick to alcohol from now on. I hate being in slow motion. I hate being giggly and stupid. Last night was not for me, because I want to be anxious and excited, and I can't, so when I spend the whole time fighting that sort of dull relaxation. I can see why people would like it, but it's not for me. Every muscle in my body feels strained today.

On a positive note, there are empty bottles in Andrew's room, and they're sitting in front of a fan. When the fan oscilates, it blows over the bottles and it sounds like angels. I listened for like 2 hours last night, and that was kind of wonderful.

I'll Be Your One Last Time If You'll Be My One Last Chance

2006-04-18T00:37:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I am kind of pathetic.

At this point, I'm okay with it.

It's about to be the end, right? Right. And I always hated those 360 endings. This is me saying goodbye to my freshman year of college. Chalking it up. Moving on.

Let me blame it on summer, let me blame it on distance, let me blame it on growing up and moving on. Let me blame it on anything but me, ok? Cause it's about time I stopped doing that.

Let me pretend this is mutual. Was mutual? Three more weeks.

In Other News, I Accidentally Dyed My Hair Black

2006-04-16T00:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, here's my little survey thing for Grace and Ryan Super Cooper.. Grace is in green, and Ryan's in a different color green. (I'm feeling monochromatic)

1. Random thing:

Grace, you can't stand for the volume to be on odd numbers.
Ryan, you keep Diet Coke in business.

2. I'll tell you what song/movie/book/fictional character reminds me of you.

Lilo, from Lilo and Stich
Chandler, from Friends (I don't really know why?)

3. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me. Or at least me.

Just because I don't hate you doesn't mean I don't wish you were dead!
Yes, the bunnies are something we don't quite understand yet, but that doesn't mean the theory is flawed!

4. I'll tell you my favorite memory of you.

Special Session, the first time I went, when you had Lucy. You pretty much glowed the whole time. It was incredible.
When we were at Mrs. Anders' house, and it started to snow. At one point you were the only one outside (I saw you out the window), and you just stood there with your hands up in the air with the snowflakes all around you. Your expression was angelic.

5. I'll tell you what animal or plant of which you remind me.

A gosling.
A baby seal.

6. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.

Can I hit that?
.. Again?

7. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal.

Language Just Happened It Was Never Planned

2006-04-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

Hhhhmmm...

I wish I could find a song to go with what I'm feeling right now. Nothing quite seems to fit. I really wish I could describe how I'm feeling right now at all. It's tough these days.

I guess I'm feeling pretty average.

This Paper Is Good, But It Needs More Christmas

2006-04-14T15:43:00.000-07:00

1. Reply with your name and I'll respond with something random about you.

2. I'll tell you what song/movie/book/fictional character reminds me of you.

3. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me. Or at least me.

4. I'll tell you my favorite memory of you.

5. I'll tell you what animal or plant of which you remind me.

6. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.

7. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal.

"Lifted" or "The Story is in the Soil; Keep Your Ear to the Ground."

2006-04-13T07:43:00.000-07:00

Some times I let my emo side run away with me.

I'm really much more ok than I seem. I promise.

Some Had Crumbled You Straight to Your Knees

2006-04-13T02:43:00.000-07:00

(did it cruel, did it tenderly.
some had crawled their way
into your heart
to rend your ventricles apart)

i guess today wasn't the some day you intended. Pretty sure I realize though.

What the hell did I just do? And why?

God, it's not as if I said anything we didn't already know is it? I'm pretty much as transparent as you are opaque. Ironic that I, of all people, should shatter the lie that I need so badly to believe. Why, why, why the fuck would I do that?

Why did I let any of this happen in the first place?

Why can't I believe any of the thousand lies that everyone else seems to swallow like candy? Or does anyone believe any of it at all?

Here's the truth ladies and gentlemen, since I'm apparently in the mood to shatter facades like crystal chandliers. The truth is I bring everything upon myself. The truth is that I would rather be your doormat than your nothing at all. The truth is that I would trade my happiness for yours every time. And I want to.

I love you as much as I hate myself. That's the truth.

If I Were a Butterfly, I Would Thank You, God, for Giving Me Wings, But She's the One I'd Credit for My Knowledge of Flight.

2006-04-05T01:15:00.000-07:00

My older sister is the reason that I am a cool person.

Grace called me today and moved me to tears with her sheer selflessness. Seriously, if you aren't in love with my older sister, you probably don't know her. If it weren't for Grace, I would be shallow, selfish, and pretty dull. She's the reason I like myself. I trust her more than any other person in the world. I depend on her more than she knows.

I know that you're reading this Grace, so it's weird to talk about you as if you weren't, but I want you to know that when I said you're my hero, I wasn't kidding. Some times I start to worry that you're so busy helping everyone else with their wings that you're missing out on flying, but really, I don't think that's true. I should really be worrying that everyone, including me, forgets that you've been flying all along.

Honestly, when I stop and think about you as a person, it brings tears to my eyes. You're phenomenal. You're successful. Especially now that I'm in college I realize all that you've overcome, and how amazingly strong you are to have come out on top. I really think that what's got you so unsettled at the moment is that you were born for bigger things, and that's hard. I mean, you're successfully living on your own with people you love, working, in college... it's a dream, but it's not a dream, because you were born to save lives and write poetry and teach people how to love again.

You're not overwhelmed, you're underwhelmed, and there is just so much and so little to be done right now.

If you want to sell everything you own and take off across America, I have absolute faith that the world rearrange itself to accommodate you. If you want to go get artificially inseminated and have a baby, I say that's the luckiest semen in the world. If you want to drop everything and go live with someone hot who you met on the internet, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you'll turn that person into someone better than he was, and he'll know it.

I am infinitely sure of your ultimate okayness, and that's not something that I can say for a lot of people.

Grace, I don't know if you know this, but you taught me how to really love myself. You taught me how to be selfless without losing myself. You taught me kindness, you taught me tolerance, you taught me poetry. You're the person I call when I start to doubt myself; you're the reason I'm ok. As amazing as you are, the fact that you love me makes me sure that I can't be all bad.

Until I wrote this, I never really thought about how much I really aspire to be like you. I try to love people the way you love them, and I want people to think of me the way they think of you. I want to give people the kind of real peace that you give me.

I hope you know how grateful I am for you.

One Day I Slowly Floated Away.

2006-04-04T04:49:00.000-07:00

It's 6:48 a.m. ladies and gentlemen. Why, you may ask, am I awake at such an ungodly hour? Well, my dears, I'm afraid I have no one to blame but myself. I am awake because I have a paper due in exactly 1 hour and 12 minutes, and I neglected to begin said paper until about 1:30 this same morning. I also neglected to read one of the books that said paper in on until 1:30 this same morning. So, I've just pulled one of those infamous college all-nighters. I'm finished now though, and all I have to do now is stay awake for about 2 and a half more hours. No problemo ladies and gentlemen, no prob-lem-o.

So, throughout these past two semesters, I feel like there's been this kind of pressure on me to be in a relationship, or at least to be looking for a relationship. Well, we're down to the final stretch, and so, the pressure's off! Yay. Guess what? I'm going to be at Camp McDowell all summer, so there's just no way I can enter a relationship right now. I don't know why that's so great, but, gee, it is.

Four minutes til I get to trot downstairs and wake up my dear Spyan Rain. It's pretty likely that he'll be very grumpy this morning. I don't know that for sure, but that's my bet. I'll fill you in on his mood status later, and I swear I'll tell the truth even if I have to lie.

Next week's resolution: prioritize sleep maybe? Or makeout with somebody new. I really want to make-out with somebody new.

Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November\ The Gunpowder, Treason and Plot.\ I Know of No Reason Why the Gunpowder Treason Should Ever Be Forgot.

2006-04-03T14:10:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen V for Vendetta, stop reading right now, and go see it. If you have seen V for Vendetta...whoa. I still can't stop thinking about it.

Evey Hammond: Artists use lies to tell the truth. Politicians use them to cover it up.

Creedy: Defiant until the end, huh? You won't cry like him, will you? You're not afraid of death. You're like me.
V: The only thing that you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is that we're both about to die.
Creedy: How do you imagine that's gonna happen?
V: With my hands around your neck.
Creedy: Bullocks. Whatchya gonna do, huh? We've swept this place. You've got nothing. Nothing but your bloody knives and your fancy karate gimmicks. We have guns.
V: No, what you've have are bullets, and the hope that when your guns are empty I will no longer be standing, because if I am you will all be dead before you've reloaded.

V: A revolution without dancing, is a revolution not worth having!

V: This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.

V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. There is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.

...bollocks.

Messed with Your Slacks But Ended Up Just Holding Your Hand

2006-04-02T11:36:00.001-07:00

A month and a half til summer! (yay)

As much as I love Tuscaloosa, and everyone and everything here, I have to say that I'm sick to death of it. Of everything. There are clouds of apathy and discontent on my horizon, and the only thing that can hold them off is change. I need new people to be pissed off at, new inside jokes, new paths to walk- I need a new routine. Can I last a month and a half without it?

We'll see.

At the beginning of this semester it seemed like permanence, was a thing of the past and the future, and I was sad about it. I wanted to live in a place that I called home, where I could put nails in the walls and carpet the floor. Like I wrote about before, I missed college before it was even gone. I was already dreading the changes that summer would bring. Funny that the very thing I was dreading is now my biggest comfort.

I do love you kids though, don't get me wrong. I'm just restless.

I Think I Like It?

2006-03-28T15:25:00.000-08:00

My army recruiter guy from high school just called me (I guess to check and see if I had decided that I need to be in the army after all. When I answered the phone he told me who he was, and then he was like, "You know, I had forgotten which student you were, but now I remember; you're the one who's always excited."

Yep... I'm pretty much excited more often than I'm unexcited. So much so that it's pretty remarkable to me when I don't have anything to be excited about.

I think that's pretty exciting.

So Much for 40 Days of High Self-Esteem

2006-03-27T23:03:00.000-08:00

I feel so... unpretty.

We Have a Problem with No Solution But To Love and To Be Loved.

2006-03-25T14:35:00.000-08:00

Back to school tomorrow. And, contrary to last post, I am remarkabley... unexcited.

I guess I'll be happy when I get there, because I do miss some people, but every other time I've been here I've really missed Tuscaloosa. I haven't even left here yet but this time I already miss home. Kind of. I miss Tala and Maggie and Blair and Shayla and Loni and my family. I miss Bo and Bella and Bosco and my yard and my view of the sunset. I miss having nothing to do. I miss my dad's breakfast. I miss driving to Deshler to shoot basketball or play tennis. I miss bus rides with the basketball team.

I miss not missing anything or anyone.

Will there ever be a time in my life when I don't miss? Probably not.

When things really suck, I don't do the whole longing for the past thing. I miss things being the way they are before they're even the way they're not. I miss my favorite eyeshadow before it's even used up. I miss my favorite relationships while they're exactly the way I want them. As soon as Thanksgiving is over I start to miss Christmas Eve, and after New Year's comes I already miss wearing winter clothes. I miss Bo because I'm afraid he's going to die, and I miss Bosco and Bella because I think they're going to run away. And as soon as I forget to miss something while I have it, it's gone, and then I miss it anyway!

I have this remarkable concept that things could always be worse; it's a great thing to know right? But I tend to get "things could be worse" confused with "things will be worse," which is obviously ridiculous because if things were always getting worse then my life would be one continuous downward staircase, and it's not, in fact, lately things seem to be getting nothing but better...

But do you ever just feel like you're always waiting for the bottom to fall out?

Cause I do. All the time.

And I Just Can't Hide It

2006-03-24T13:01:00.000-08:00

Weeeeeee! I am so excited about staffing Camp McDowell this summer. I'm excited about it being summer at all. I'm excited about seeing everybody on Sunday! I'm excited about my classes for next semester! I'm really excited that there's going to be "A Softer World" book! I'm excited that my sister won a bicycle! I'm excited that my other sister is going to be the prettiest girl at the prom! Again I say, "Weeeeee!" I'm excited!

Swallow It Down (What a Jagged Little Pill).

2006-03-20T22:05:00.000-08:00

I read Grace's blog, religiously, so I am offcially tagged to list 6 weird things about myself... Let's see if I can think of six...

1. Ok, every time I drive home from Tuscaloosa, I am absolutely certain that I'm going to have a wreck and die, and I think about who will come to my funeral and what they will say. I think about all the things I don't want people to say too. Don't you dare say that I'm going to heaven because of my faith in Christ. If that's what's getting me to heaven, I want no part of it.

2. I don't believe in hell- that's pretty weird. I consider myself a Christian though... I just think that grace is for everyone, whether he earns it or wants it or whatever. I think that's kind of the point.

3. I don't like tomato soup or potato salad, but every time I see them I try them anyway. So far I still don't like them, but I think that they're both really good ideas, and I don't want to miss out on them in case they ever become my favorite food.

4. I'm pretty compulsive about pronoun anecedents.

5. I get really hung up on names, especially names of bands. It takes a lot for me to listen to a band if I don't like the name. I wouldn't listen to Deathcab for Cutie forever; I still have to talk myself into it some times.

6. Starting this year, I listen to Christmas music year round. I always resisted the urge before, but I decided not to turn them off this year. I mean, if I die in my 20's, I want to know that "Jingle Bell Rock" has been a big part of my life. Also, "Carol of the Bells."

So, there you have it. That was easier than I thought; I can actually think of more things to list than that!

So, I now tag

Rachel
Genevieve
Matt Wujcik
Ryan Cooper
Ryan Spain
Sarah Widgeon

If none of ya'll do then I'll cry, and egg your car. If you don't have a car, I'll egg your face.

Also, I'm in Ohio right now. Laura and I drove 13 hours today! I'll probably do a really long road trip post later though, so I'm not going to fill you in right now. I will say that I'm going to Canada tomorrow though.

Here in Our Hollow We Fuse Like a Family, But I Will Not Mourn for You.

2006-03-17T18:31:00.000-08:00

Home home...

There's nothing like going back some place to gage how much you've changed. But I think the truth is, if you stay long enough, you'll remember yourself, and you'll realize that you're no so much changed as you thought. My life is a series of such remembrance.

I spent my first semester in college surrounded by boys. Boys, boys, boys, every time I looked around me it was nothing but boys. It seemed like for every girl friend I had I could list at least 3 guys. Which was actually okay, and fun, and wonderful really. Mostly fun, and very educational. With three sisters and a long-term boyfriend all throughout high school, last semester was the first time I really had guy-friends. I learned a lot.

It wasn't until I started hanging out with girls again that I realized how much I did, and didn't miss them. Of course there was Genevieve last semester, and she's a wonderful exception to most of the girl negatives, which is why I don't count her, or count her more, or something like that. Actually Ryan too is an exception to the general boy rules. And there will always be my sisters.

But anyway, the great thing about girls is, first of all, there's no sexual tension. That's pretty sweet. Also, girls love to tell you about their problems and genuinely want advice, which I enjoy to a certain extent. Mostly because when they do tell you their problems, you don't have to dance around the fact that they have ulterior sexual motives, because boys pretty much always do, if you ask me. Well, girls do have ulterior motives some times, and that can be pretty painful because I tend to believe that they're genuinely there for me... I've been proven wrong on that one more than once- I really hope that I've never done that to someone I loved. Anyway, there's also that girls love to listen... heh, I guess I just proved that I'm a pretty good example of that.

But, what I mean is, girls love for other people to have drama, and excitement, and they love to be involved in it. It can be disheartening when you have some sort of fantastic melodrama and all you get is a shrug or a 'want me to kill him?' or something to that effect. I don't fault guys for it, they're just not programmed to care about that sort of thing.

The bad thing is, girls will tend to take the drama thing too far, as I'm sure you all know, and sometimes you have to tell them that it's time to chill the fuck out. But, seeing as I have a pretty fantasmic group of lady friends at the moment, such reminders are pretty rare, and I'm really loving having girl friends again.

I don't think that girls care more, but I do think that they are aware of the fact that people need to be reminded that you care. They make me feel better about myself, and help me remember to show other people that I care too.

I ♥ girls.

This Makes Me Smile for Someone I Don't Know

2006-03-15T21:57:00.000-08:00

-Postsecret

Over My Shoulder A Piano Falls, Crashing to the Ground

2006-03-15T07:32:00.000-08:00

I'm about to start making CDs for mine and Laura's roadtrip!

song and band suggestions please?

We Must Hang Out in the Belfry Where the Bats in Moonlight Laugh

2006-03-14T23:14:00.000-08:00

Wonderful wonderful day... moral forum = amazing...

Bright Eyes, also = amazing. The video for Bottom of Everything... I love it.

I Just Want Someone to Say to Me, "I'll Always Be There When You Wane"

2006-03-13T02:38:00.001-08:00

wax P Pronunciation Key (wks)
intr.v. waxed, wax·ing, wax·es

To show a progressively larger illuminated area, as the moon does in passing from new to full.

wane P Pronunciation Key (wn)
intr.v. waned, wan·ing, wanes

To exhibit a decreasing illuminated area from full moon to new moon.

I wax and wane like a motherfucker, if I do say so myself.

So Take This Moment, Mary Jane, and Be Selfish.

2006-03-09T20:44:00.000-08:00

Oh me...

What a trip this week has been!

Stressful... but in a good way. Moral Forum... totally worth it.

I feel like there's a lot of stuff I should write about... new friendships, old friendships, friendships that are fading fast and I just don't care the way I used to. It sounds bad, but you have no idea what a relief it is to not care. A kind of sad relief, the way you feel at the end of really hectic vacation. Like, it was wonderful and you loved it, and of course if you had the option you would probably stay for two more weeks, but at the same time, you're just ready to get back to a place where things make sense.

Things are making more and more sense every day, and it's like waking up from a weird dream, and once again relief! I think it's really because of school work, because of actually applying myself and remembering that when I do that, I'm good at this whole academic thing. I think I forgot that I'm good at things.

I'm also getting some real ideas about what I want to do with my life. I'm thinking of a double major in social work and philosophy. I want to advocate social reform. I want to help people, but on a big scale, and I'm excited about it.

Things are good.

So You Plant Your Own Garden and Decorate Your Own Soul, Instead of Waiting for Someone to Bring You Flowers.

2006-03-06T23:23:00.000-08:00

"Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand."

- Brave New World

Some times happiness is a decision... some times sadness is too.

Today, I pick happiness. I'm finding rest in the permanence of the sky. I'm wrapping myself up in my own prayers. I'm losing myself in the immense love that I have for the world, and finding myself in the people who care back.

Hello, World? I refuse to underestimate my own worth. I refuse to be defined by someone else's love, and I refuse to pretend that things are worse than they are. I refuse to sweat it.

God, we've got it great right now kids. No work, no children, nothing to do but learn and play. If you can't be happy now, well, you're fooling yourself into thinking it's for any reason other than that you don't want to be happy. What makes you think that anyone in the world feels any less than you do? Grow up.

You'll be Better, You'll be Smarter, More Brought Up and A Better Daughter...

2006-03-05T17:01:00.000-08:00

For the past three hours I've been preparing for debate where I have to argue both for and against the legalization of physician-assisted suicide.
The more I work on either side, the more I decide the opposing view is wrong. So, even though I seem to have gotten a good bit done, my only real conclusions on the matter have pretty much nothing whatsoever to do with physician assisted suicide.

My Conclusions

As highly debated as this topic is, chances are, you don't know enough about it to form an intelligent opinion, and that's probably the case in most hot-button issues. I was strongly n favor of PAS at the beginning, and, from an ethical standpoint, I still am. However, there is huge potential for abuse of it, and empirical data does show that these abuses are likely. So, with this in mind, I'm not going to discuss anything like this with anyone unless I feel the need to first research both sides for about 6 hours.
Even if you've done the six-hours of research, I might not necessarily think that your opinion is intelligent. Now more than ever, I understand that if you think there's a clearcut answer, you're wrong.
There's no Christian standpoint on anything, much less a Judeo-Christian standpoint. Christianity pretty much corners the market on ambiguity. That's probably why so many people are Christians... you can justify any belief with the bible. Separation of church and state aside, if you try to form an intelligent argument using Christianity, I hope you fall over dead. That all comes down to interpretation of a work with questionable influences.
If you're my debate partner, and you try to use a Christian argument, after I give you a book about the dissenting views of Christianity, not only do I hope you fall over dead, I hope that in hell you have to research for all of eternity. Also, in the event that you spontaneously die, I hope they give us an evaluation form at the end of class, an I hope you make an F-.
And my greatest conclusion is, aside from the fact that I have to make an A, I really don't fucking care about physician assisted suicide. Legal or illegal, nothing can stop you from gassing yourself in your garage, and moral or immoral, it's your eternity. It's not like anything ever gets fucking done anyway. I don't care. I do not care. I don't care.

Ok, that's not true. I do care, but it's not relevant to me because I realistically do not have the power to change anything. And this seems like a huge exercise in futility. Woo hoo, you won both sides, and you still don't have an opinion. I am very frustrated, and in a bad mood.

This weekend was fun, but also emotionally taxing. Some things never go away, and just when you think they have, there they are, sitting 2 rows behind you, yelling like a goddamn idiot. My wish to hurt you back is so overwhelming that I can taste it. How can you let something go when it changed everything, and continues to change things?

Pretty Much Hilarious

2006-03-03T12:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.asofterworld.com/leaving.jpg

Sings the Tune Without the Words and Never Stops At All

2006-03-03T02:13:00.000-08:00

From last Saturday to this Saturday... this has been a spectacular week. Here's why:

1. Spending the night with Grace, Andrew, and other Special Session kids = bad ass. Also, amaretto sours pretty much make my life.

2. Commentary on Meagan's game with Grace + seeing Ms. Blair Bowens and meeting her latest heart throb... wonderful.

3. Of course Bo, he's basically the center of my universe.

5. Trial of The Stranger is going to be very exciting, and Moral Forum debate is looking like it's going to go well. These things make me really consider law school, which is very cool.

6. Marti Gras and Captain Dickhead. Lots of fun.

7. Ash Wednesday and catching up with Emily. I didn't realize how much I've missed her, and Elizabeth too. AND Shayla, the most exciting person currently on the planet. If you don't know these ladies, you should be jealous.

8. Wednesday was just a great day all together. Good for Wednesday.

9. Genevieve and Laura. I love having girls to depend on. Also, girls who can talk about boy crushes and girl crushes without being weird. And I'm living with Genny next semester. Bad ass.

10. Adriana Lima... girl crush.

11. Blount was incredible today. Allen Ginsberg and Virgina Woolf... beautiful.

12. I downloaded Castle of the Winds. Fuck yes.

13. Beautiful weather, puppies on the quad, the computer lab at the library, the food at Burke, sleeping through 2 classes... today was wonderful.

14. Tommorrow promises to be wonderfully calm, maybe a picnic day?

15. Meagan (and maybe Grace is I can ever get in touch with her?) coming this weekend. I miss Meagan like crazy. I feel like I haven't spent time with her in years.

Thank God for this week. I needed it.

I Want to Get Myself Attached to Something Bolted Down...

2006-03-01T13:21:00.000-08:00

So that these winds of circumstance won't keep blowing me around.
From when I land to when I leave there is enough time to sleep and sing.
I keep running when all I want is to lay motionless.

One of these days I'm going to get myself...

BUT, for now, I just have to ride the waves of my emotions, and today, ladies and gentlemen, I'm riding high. For the past few months I've been doing this thing where I fall in love with people. I mean, just anyone at all. (Well... people that I've actually met at least, not short acquaintances or facebook pals...) Whoa, one day nothing, the next day I think that you're the greatest thing since Flintstone vitamins.

Usually I kind of fall out of these phases on my own... It must be pretty tough to keep up with my infatuations. Anyways, I don't fall into terrific fits of depression and sadness or really think that I'm missing out on true love... not my cup of tea, and I tend to think that it's pretty funny when you kids do that. Except maybe I won't make fun of you in my head anymore, because this time I really was pretty sad. Albeit this was a particularly messy situation... still, things can hurt for no reason.

But ANYWAY I woke up this morning and was over it, which is fantastic. I have no idea why or how my feelings change so suddenly, but I woke up and saw everything that I don't need or even want. I recovered memories of everything that I'm looking for and now it seems ridiculous to me that I ever even thought that I was looking in the right direction.

I've been pretty silly about things recently... forgive me love.

Sunny outside... sunny inside... I love being over it.

Don't You Love What Is Intangible? We Have Built This Ship in a Wine Bottle...

2006-02-28T00:21:00.000-08:00

A weekend sans cigarettes... no problem
A weekend sans Tuscaloosa friends... tragic.

What would I do without you kids?
What WILL I do without you kids?

Living with Genevieve next year is going to be so fucking hardcore.

Trip to the doctor today... insightful... um... insights? to come, but not tonight.

Class at 8 a.m... who's pumped? not me. eerr...

new idea... ETERNAL WEEKEND. yes? yes.

Giraffes fucking rule.

Maybe You've Been Here Before, But It's My First Time So Please Ignore the Next Few Lines Cause They're Directed at You

2006-02-24T22:00:00.001-08:00

Saw II... what a buzz kill...

I remember my dad telling me once, when I was little, that everyone is replaceable. I had something to him to the effect of, "I don't know what I will ever do if you die." And I was probably crying because I was a very emotional kid and I cried a lot. I couldn't explain why though. I still can't explain why but nobody believes that, and I think that's when I started lying so fantastically.

"If I die, Lindsey, you will get over it. You'll be ok. Because life doesn't stop for me. Life doesn't stop for anyone. And it will hurt and it will be very hard, but ultimately, whatever sadness you feel will go away. Someone else will fill in the hole that I leave."

Replaceable. Everyone, he told me, is replaceable. I wonder. Sure, the truth is that people go in and out of your life, and ultimately, you can be happy without her- without him. He'll still crack jokes when you're not there to laugh. She'll still sing when you're not there to hear. They'll still drink, still smoke, still party on without you. Sure, they'll cry when you're gone, but they will cry without you there to comfort them.

Are you replaceable? Are you worth replacing?

I don't know. Of course it's horrible to think that the people who love you might be better off without you, and wonderful to think that every person you know is uniquely needed and here for a reason, and but as for the former you can never really know, and the empirical evidence above doesn't really support the latter. Does it?

So replaceable... maybe? But expendable, you certainly are NOT. And that, my friend, comes with responsibility. You should know that your existence is the only thing in the world that keeps me from filling all of the voids that you simultaneously created and filled the day that I decided that I love you. The more of my self I give to you- the more I love you- the bigger the you-shaped hole gets. When you stop giving back, I'm empty.

I'm filled with holes in the shapes of all of you- without you, all I can do is patch myself with whatever fragments of you that I have left. By the end of it we'll all be so riddled with holes and stitched with patches that we'll be completely new jeans. Not better or worse- but different, and with more character.

Anyway, I wasn't ready to patch the hole shaped like you yet. I've missed you so much.

As for YOU sir... Jack off. Maybe you're absolutely right- or maybe I'm just confused and hurting and trying to hold all of my pieces together without dropping any.

You know that the way you act towards me will hardly alter the way I act towards you (it never has). You know this, but still... be kind. Understand that I did not ask to feel this way, and I'll bear it without a sound if you'll just pretend like you don't know. Compassion- I'm begging you.

There Are Powerlines in Our Bloodlines.

2006-02-21T08:18:00.000-08:00

"If some messenger were to come to us with the offer that death should be overthrown, but with the one inseparable condition that birth should also cease; if the existing generation were given the chance to live forever, but on the clear understanding that never again would there be a child, or youth, or first love, never again new persons with new hopes, new ideas, new achievements; ourselves for always and never any others--could the answer be in doubt?

Alas for those who cannot sing, but die with all their music in them."

I Know Debris, It Covers Everything, Yet Still I Am in Love with This Life

2006-02-19T23:30:00.000-08:00

Okay.

Okay. Ok. It's such a low-key word. Not fantastic, not wonderful, not happy or giddy or free. Not deep and introspective, optimistic pessimistic wide-eyed over-the-top in love.

Okay. I have a tendency toward the extreme. I don't really see you describing me as low-key. I'm not chill. I'm wired, I'm hyper, vivacious and high-strung. I'm awake and alive and some times even I wonder where the hell it all comes from. And then I have these weeks of fantastic sadness and apathy, and not many of you know it, but it's a trade-off and it's easy to forget that the lows are only defined by the highs. I can't fall any farther than I jumped to begin with; up and down are no different.

But today, I'm okay. And I like it.

Now for some housekeeping...

I hate doing the vague accusation thing, but I'm going to. Because my feelings are hurt, and I don't want to erase you. Or I do. Disappear please. Erase, I want to rub you out and forget all that I thought of you and how I loved you and believed you were more and less and had so god-damn much faith in you.

You have time. We all have time. It's not about time; it's about priorities. And you've made it clear what and who your priorities are and are not. You're the victim, I know, I'm sure. You you you him him fucking you. This is harsh, and part of me wants to backspace it into oblivion right now, but I am hurt, and angry, and sick to death of waiting for you to care when no one's looking. And I'm not ready to let go, but I'm to exhausted to hang on, and I don't have time. So, be happy, be stable, good for you. You're a million miles away, and even though I miss you, I understand that it's impossible to be close from so far.

I'll smile and I'll wave and maybe we'll have the occasional phone call, but I'm not waiting for you to care back. The end.

So, what I do have time for is the spiraling confusion of wonderful and horrible that is my life right now. aahhh. Right, you're right, you're so absolutely and completely right. But, for the first time in so so fucking long, I felt like maybe things could change. You aren't wrong, but you could be. And that was my last night. Right, wrong, right, wrong, and if I've changed my mind then what is it that makes me cry every god-damn time? Why does everything always come back to you?

How the fuck do you see right through me when I can hardly get a glimpse of what's going on underneath your surface?

Any way, in spite of all of this, I'm okay, beautifully and wonderfully okay. I feel like things are moving and happening and very optimistic about 19.

P. S. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. READ IT.

http://dictionary.reference.com/translate/text.html. traditional chinese.

Because Your Candle Burns Too Brightly

2006-02-19T09:47:00.000-08:00

Lindsey Jayne --

[noun]:

A level headed person who always makes the wrong decision

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

I fell in love with a dream that I built of you, playing the part of the king.
Taking my own advice, I'm giving up tonight-
Good luck to you and the queen

I Am Jack's Best Friend, Who Wants More than Anything for Him to Be Happy

2006-02-16T01:26:00.000-08:00

And, I've decided that it's ridiculous to distance yourself from someone you love just because you are a silly girl who is indecisive and unrealistic.

Have your cake; have me, too. Haven't I, every step of the way, discouraged attachment and mandated indifference? Am I dumb for even thinking that I could maintain this kind of relationship without attachment, or is it particular to you?

I've been told, emphatically and repeatedly, by pretty much everyone who's opinion I value at all, that it is always always always a bad idea to be friends with benefits. And, I can't say I don't see where you're coming from, but, I wouldn't trade this.

And, is it even over? I mean, I think it ends when I'm not strong enough to keep it up, but isn't it going to hurt regardless? It could be my self-destruct chip, but one part of me is screaming that I shouldn't end this, but let it end on its own. And maybe it already has...?

The things about it is, every relationship that you ever enter into in your entire life will cause you pain. That's just true. You will either break up, or one of you will die, or you'll grow apart; I see no avenues where no one is hurt. At least in this situation, I'm not the victim.

I'm NOT the victim. Any pain that I feel, I brought on myself. Wow. You have no idea how incredible that is. I mean... That's freaking amazing. That's how things should be. I'm NOT the victim. AND, I'm not hurting anyone. There are no victims.

Oh wow, I think this is the coolest thing I've realized all semester. Sometimes things just hurt, and you're not the victim, and you're not inflicting pain. Is this major? I don't have to feel guilty. I don't have to feel pathetic. Is this not better than the past few painful situations I've been in?

I need to hug some people.

In the Shape of Your Mouth, In the Form of Your Body, With the Wrath of a God

2006-02-14T23:27:00.000-08:00

I totally give credit to Grace (what a beautiful muse she is!) for this...

Valentine's Day is officially over, and over all, it hasn't been a bad one at all. Lessons learned kids. Any way, one of the things that I personally did not need to learn today is something that I think a lot of people ought to think about: the commercial aspect of Valentine's Day.

At least five times today I've heard someone comment about how Valentine's Day is a marketed holiday, made up by greeting card companies. A gimmick, a ruse, another way to reach into your pocketbook. And haven't you heard the same thing about Christmas? It's all about money, all about the economy, nothing real there.

Well, my dears, I beg to differ. Yes, Valentine's Day is a great way to sell cards and chocolate and condoms, but the fact is that Hallmark is always trying to get you to buy cards, Godiva is always trying to get you to by chocolate, and Trojan is always always trying to get you to buy condoms. And rightfully so. The main difference between the commercials of February 14 and the commercials of any other day of the year is that instead of trying to convince you to buy things for yourself, companies are trying to convince you to buy things for someone else.

Apparently, this rubs you the wrong way.

But the reason is not that it cheapens the holiday; that's not logical. Maybe the fact is that we have some sort of underlying guilt in the first place for not thinking of others first, for not showing the people that we love how special they are to us, for not spending money on flowers and candy and poetry. SO, when we are bombarded with advertisements that tell us that we are obligated to do these things, we are offended.

I've been as bitter as anyone about Valentine's Day, but, truth be told, I like the idea of it. Corporate America is begging you and tricking you and seducing you into doing things every day of the year, at least today's message is rooted somewhere in the concept of love.

And, like Genevieve says, any holiday that turns everything red and glitter and coated in chocolate is ultimately a good idea.

In other news, Detachment vs. Pain: Is emotion worth it?
Six months ago, I would've told you absolutely not. Now, it's debatable again, and, I am so thankful to have thawed in that way, and in a way that if it wasn't worth it, I'm still incredibly taken care of by everyone remotely involved.

Also, in a way that it really comes to my mind on a day when chocolate is more than abundant.

Reasons to Live

2006-02-14T08:00:00.000-08:00

If You Look Closely Enough You Can't Tell Where My Nose Ends and Space Begins.

2006-02-13T00:40:00.000-08:00

In case you forgot, my middle name is Jayne spelled with a "y," and in first grade, my student of the month certificate said that I was a joy to have in the classroom. I liked to wear dresses, because that meant I had to sit Indian-style on the carpet; I could put my legs to the side like I liked if I was wearing a dress. I faked sick all of the time because I hated P.E, and Miss Harris (who wanted to be called Mrs. Simpon, but I couldn't ever remember, or else could remember, but thought that Harris is a much more elegant name than Simpson, and I always thought that she was a very elegant lady) gave me private lessons on how to tie my shoe. I never could tell left from right though... Still can't. I lied about being allergic to chocolate because I didn't like chocolate, so I got to each orange push pops instead.

In third grade I was positive that I was going to be a writer, I told Mrs. Watkins that I would send her the first autographed copy of my book, and I still think that I will, if I ever write a book. I played on the monkey bars with Mikey and Joseph Santos every day, and I read Piers Anthony novels ever though I wasn't allowed to. I told the twins the stories and they told me the stories of the video games that they played, and we made this fantastic game of it, where Mikey's name was Master Shredder- but not like the guy from Ninja Turtles. I had a name to but I've forgotten it, which is why I'm writing to myself- so that maybe things that I should remember but don't will come back to me, and I'll know where I left whatever it is that I left behind, and when I have it again you'll know, and I'll tell you all of the secret answers to the secret problems. See when I made the world I made the answers first and the questions second, and a thousand extra answers too, just in case.

In forth grade I wanted to be a ballerina, but my mom begged me to play basketball, and I did. Defense was my favorite. In sixth grade I discovered that if you are nice to people, they are nice back, and that if you talk to people about themselves, they will find you to be very understanding. That's really the secret you know, everyone in the world is dying to tell their story, and, truth be told, they don't care if you really get the story, so long a you just understand how very desperate they are to tell it, and how vital it is that they can. Once you understand that, if they are the kind of people I generally fall in love with, the actual story part is pretty irrelevant, but it tends to be entertaining anyway.

I used to purposely sleep during history, and feign spiteful indifference so that when I made A's it was that much more impressive. It was never enough for me to just be the best; people had to think it was easy for me. When I went to high school I was very lonely, and I missed my friends. I learned manipulation and people-pleasing. I learned how to make someone love you so much that nothing else matters to them. I can't do it anymore because I don't have the stomach for it, but I know, and that's enough to make me kind of sick. I can see when you're doing it and I could tell you the mistakes you're making, but I usually don't because you don't even know that you're doing it. Anyway, you think it will make you happy but it won't, and you'll actually probably never know that unless you're good enough at it to make the world stop for you, and then you'll only miss the spinning.

Anyway I learned that, and I listen to good music and I get things. I don't need a boy to be secure, and I forget how much class I ought to have some times and don't. I'm remembering a lot of things this year that I had forgotten, about grace and eloquence and things that are deeper than you think and more important than basic needs if we're ever going to get any where, if the goal is actually distance at all and if it's not then this could very well be very unreasonable. But I do think that the goal must be something like that, or that the only way to achieve the real goal is to have that sort of illusion goal in mind, and then once you get there you understand- not because you're there but because you're at least not where you used to be.

See, I don't really so much want to get to a place I used to be, I just want this to be one of those places.

Maybe the answer is that I'm the answer, that I, being made in His image, was very much thinking like Him when I created the world, and so like I said before, there are a hundred thousand answers that don't have questions yet, and maybe I'm one of those answers.

From Your Changing Contentment, What Will You Choose for to Share?

2006-02-12T19:49:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago I was discussing dismal Valentine's Day prospects with you kids... Now, two days before, all of you fuckers have totally better love lives.

As for me? Abolutely nothing. Maybe even less than before.

Fantastic.

Permanent Markers Are as Stable as It Gets.

2006-02-11T01:31:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in my living room at home- with Ryan Spain asleep in my grandfather's chair, and Rachel and Genevieve are laying with their heads on opposite ends of my couch. Ryan Cooper is kicked back in my dad's Lazyboy, and the adorable Bo is sprawled on the floor by my feet.

I feel obliged to be content, but for some odd reason... I'm not. First of all, I miss Mario very much. It's hard to be here without him, equally hard to remember that he's gone. I havne't cried over him, and when I do, you will all be very surprised and my timing will be horrible. Actualization can come so suddenly.

I also wish that Andrew was here; my heart hurts for him lately and I don't know how to make things okay. Here's to you for taking things so well- I didn't think you had it in you. Anyway, I miss you.

I miss a lot of things. Things that I can't explain or describe or even understand. It's not like that "you don't miss something til it's gone" because it's not something that I feel like I even had.

I keep meaning to write a good blog... I will eventually... I promise.

'Tis not Through Envy of Thy Happy Lot, But Being Too Happy in Thine Happiness.

2006-02-08T22:51:00.000-08:00

this is the place you'll end up (when you lose the chase)
where you’re dragged against your will
from a basement on the hill
and all anybody knows is you're not like them
and they kick you in the head
and send you back to bed

isolation pulled you passed a tunnel to a bright world
where you can make a place to stay
but everybody's scared of this place-
(they're staying away)
your little house on memory lane

the mayor’s name is fear
(his voice patrols the pier)
from a mountain of cliche
that advances every day
the doctor spoke of clout
he reigned out loud,
"you'll keep your doors and windows shut
and swear you'll never show a soul again"

but

isolation pushes you ‘til every muscle aches
down the only road it ever takes
but everybody's scared of this place-
(they're staying away)
your little house on memory lane

if it's your decision
to be open about yourself
be careful or else
be careful or else...

I'm comfortable apart
(it's all written on my chart)
and i take what's given me
most cooperatively
i do what people say
and lie in bed all day-
absolutely horrified
i hope you're satisfied

isolation pushes past self-hatred, guilt and shame
to a place where suffering is just a game
but everybody's scared of this place-
(they're staying away)
your little house on memory lane

(my little house on memory lane)

I'm Not Saying She's a Nazi, But Allied Women Do NOT Have the Hotts for Adolf

2006-02-07T17:30:00.000-08:00

"That mustache does something for me."
-Callie Corely, in reference to Hitler

2006-02-07T08:01:00.000-08:00

Because If I Can’t Learn to Make Myself Feel Better, Then How Can I Expect Anyone Else to Give a Shit?

2006-02-06T21:37:00.000-08:00

Bad moods... what's up with them?

I hate to be unexplainably sad. What is it that can hit me so quickly and induce this flood of dismal and dreary thoughts. What makes me feel unloved and abandoned and excluded when I know that I'm not? Why can't I remember what it is that I love about myself?

Why do I need constant reassurance that I'm cared about, thought about, noticed?

That's not who I am; I'm not that girl. That's not my story. I scoff at these kind of posts. I disregard them, write them off as hormones, and pleas for attention. And I'm not wrong, that's totally what this is.

Err.. I get frustrated with myself, then I get mad at myself for being to hard on myself, and I end up in this cycle of getting more and more mad at me.

I'm lonely. I think it's the weather.

Whatever I Said to Make You Think That Love Is the Religion of the Weak

2006-02-04T21:46:00.000-08:00

Oh you wonderful people.

In the past couple of days I've learned how easy it is to get caught up in the high school drama. And it's still very silly and ridiculous... but it's pretty entertaining. Ultimately though, I feel untouched by it, and I need to stop participating. I'm so arbitrary about it; the truth is, there are very few people in this world who you couldn't decide to dislike. As a rule, those are the friends that cause me the most trouble: the ones that I love in spite of myself.

There are so many people to love, but the fact is, if you had a reason, you could hate most of them too. And don't say you couldn't, because you fucking could, and probably would.

Subject change. There's one girl in particular who is just a boy magnet. I mean, boy fall in love with this chick, and I can't blame them at all. She's wonderful and beautiful on all counts. Anyway, last night when I was eating with some guys and discussing this phenomenon, and the other girl that was there said something to the affect of, "It's so not fair to the rest of us. We can't all be like her."

What the fuck ever. First of all, there will always be crosses to bear. Secondly, I think one of the main things about this girl that makes boys so weak is that she's so genuine. Cliche as it is (and, you know what, cliche and passe don't really mean the same thing, and I don't care if the word cliche IS cliche, I like it), I would rather be a first rate version of me then a second rate version of her.

Another epiphany that I had this weekend is that almost all of my guy friends are looking for some dream girl, who they know will make them happy. They all have one, and chances are, I've heard about her. And, when I hear about her, something inside me thinks, "I could be her." I don't want a relationship with these guys. I don't want to be that girl. What I do want is for them to be happy. What I've realised is that the thing to do is not to be that girl, but to make them understand that they could last a lifetime without her, and still be happy.

"Heavensent" is a word for fiction. No girl should ever have to be the answer to your prayers; she's got prayers of her own.

I had you pegged, didn't I?

2006-02-02T01:19:00.000-08:00

"You had the whole human race pegged."
"Probably."
"I still thought you were going to save me. Even after that."

Before I say anything else, I highly recommend that you read Mr. Wujcik's latest post. You should know that I write some pretty exciting blogs as a rule, but tonight is nothing compared to his musing of today. I am impressed.

I tried to go to sleep. Really. Just didn't quite work out for me. Seriously, I got in bed at 11:30. Laid there til 2. That was silly. But I did have a very good day today, I do attribute that to last night's fantastic sleep, so I think it's over all a good idea to add some stability to my life. Keep me in check, won't you? (no, I already know that you won't. Losers.)

What made today a good day, you ask? Well, I got up and got dressed for one thing. Fixed my hair, put on makeup, and I actually had time to do it. I still took a nap though. That's probably why I can't sleep now. Any ways, it was still an overall fantastic day.

Crazy: for about 4 months after Leon and I broke up (so, til a few weeks ago), I really did not get crushes. I was attracted to some guys, and even developed some pretty crazy relations, but I never considered dating. I did not want a boyfriend, and didn't think that I could handle or even stand to have a boyfriend.

I still have doubts,

BUT I've started to get crushes again, and it's pretty damn exciting. The thing is, a lot of people get a crush and then immediately want to act on it- and encourage and expect me to do the same. That's not really how I work. I get a crush, but before my crushee has any knowledge of it at all, it could be gone. Like, one day I might be thinking about what my name would sound like if I married a guy; the next day I might decide that we're not at all compatible, or that I can do better, or something about him will just drive me up the wall, or, frequently these days, I decide that as fantastic as this guy is, I don't want to gamble his friendship on a relationship.

This said, don't attempt to speculate my dears- the boy that I write about tonight may be a phantom of my mind tomorrow. And the boy that I write about tonight happens to be particularly exciting. So much so that I would consider a relationship with him, and, get this, he's a Republican! Ridiculous right?

Maybe just hypothetically setting myself up for a hell of a lot of disagreements, Or maybe I should be more open-minded.

Either way, he's already got me thinking...

I Need You to Pretend that We Are in Love Again, and You Agreed To

2006-01-31T19:32:00.000-08:00

New Month's Resolutions!

Ok. It's time to give scheduling a try (at least for a week). I really want to see how I feel after going to bed early and waking up early for a while. And after spending more time being productive, and less time hanging out with my friends. Um... It kind of makes me miss them already.

BUT... one trial week can't hurt, if I can actually do it. I meant to write a lot more on this, unfotunately, I have to go to bed in about half an hour, and I have things to do before then.

More to come on this.

You Say I Choose Sadness, That It Never Once Has Chosen Me

2006-01-30T23:57:00.000-08:00

(maybe you're right)

Why is it that some things just will not die. I'm driving myself insane. I have a million immediate things that I could be turning over in my mind. A million reasons just significant enough to have my head swimming.

But am I worried about my paper that's due tomorrow? Nope. And I have right at 12 hours to write it. Am I worried about the speeding ticket that I have to pay in less than three weeks? Nope. And I have less that half of the money to pay it. Am I worried about the 27 thousand reading assignments that I have yet to do? About my ridiculous social situations and lack of any stable routine? About where I'll live next year or what in the world I want to do with my life?

Why worry torture yourself about the future when you'll never unlock yesterday's chains? There's always that one moment- that moment that happened in an instant, and yet continues to happen even to this day. The moment when I could've said, "You get the fuck out of my family. We're perfect. We don't need any additions, we don't need your shit, we have love to spare, but not for you. Never for you."

But that's not what I said. That's not what I did. Anything. Everything. I shattered my own beautiful family- I insisted that love was never anything but good. I wedged you into cracks (still tight enough to hold water), so that now the remnants are hardly recognizable as pieces of a whole. I demanded that you be trusted.

Of all the fucking false convictions. It never stops. There isn't enough super glue in the world to repair what you did- what I did. And the truth is, there isn't absoluteion real enough to convince me that I'm not to blame. Oh sure, not completely, but, if not for my part, would she have ever gone as far as she did?

Just another manic monday kids. Thanks for being my escape.

The Only Thing I Have to Say: It's Been a Good Year for the Roses

2006-01-30T01:10:00.002-08:00

Things that Made Me Happy This Weekend

Flintstone vitamins with iron
Rilo Kiley
Naked Frisbee (kind of)
Really Good (or really bad, depending on how you look at it) Hunch Punch
Silly Germans (who are of the legal drinking age)
Low Cut Shirts (I like myself in them, and that's really all that matters)
Capitalist Anarchists
Rap Battles (I, for one, was pretty damn impressed)
Strait Female Friends (who love me enough to make out with me when I'm trying to prove my lesbianism to a supposedly well endowned rapist)
Friends Who Do a Semi-decent Job of Holding My Hair Out of My Face When I Get Sick (the fact that it was only a semi-decent job makes me smile on the inside)
The Elevated Section at Arby's
Ben Folds
Car Seat Belts
Cheese Pizza
Square Coffee Mugs
Communists and Their Silly Hats
Spian Rain and Watt Mujcik
20 Questions and Captain Dickhead
Elvis Costello
Riding with the Top Down
$10 Tips
Broseph (what a silly bitch)
Alliteration
Tolstoy
Duckzilla (who is actually a black goose?)
Jesuszilla, Son of Godzilla
Next Semester's Housing Options
Boys in Collared Shirts. Boys Looking Hott in General. (as you probably know, all of my friends are pretty damn attractive)
Talking to my Sister (always an upper)
Genevieve's Hair
And, to top it all off... Alex Cornett

All in all, a really good weekend kids. It's really crazy, I hardly had any good friends who were guys in high school (cue possesive asshole flashback), but now I can't get enough of them. And, I probably laugh more then the legal limit. Also, I'm in love with all of them. Actually, my female friends too. Name anyone, and I can pretty much name a moment when I knew that he or she was irreplaceable, and when I knew that I would never be them same again as a result of his or her existance. I fall in love probably a thousand times every day that I spend with these people. I want to keep them forever.

I have a ridiculously busy week coming up kids. SO, as a procrastinator, I'll probably be posting even more than usual. Much love bebes.

Another Limited Time Offer

2006-01-28T23:57:00.000-08:00

Aw, this one was good too. Sorry that you missed it.

I Do Believe It's True That There Are Roads Left in Both of Our Shoes

2006-01-27T17:27:00.000-08:00

(and if the silence takes you then I hope that it takes me too)

I'm feeling restless kids. I need to be shaken up by something- or someone. I need less elipses- more explaination points. I had forgotten what it was like to be me- last semester I was so drained. Anemia creeps up on you- you don't even realise that you're sick because you get accustomed to fatigue. I always a surplus of energy anyway.

And now, thanks to Flintstones vitamins with iron, my frenzied fever of unrest has returned. Seriously, I could explode at any second; my blood is electric blue mercury. I have a fever, I'm burning two humdred thousand degrees and no one can smell the smoke. My emotions are intense and irrational, and I know it, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming. Happiness, anger, sadness, but mostly just unrest. Take me, I'm an all natural upper.

Tonight when I was eating dinner with some friends at a restaraunt, and the background music paused. I looked up at the TV and the news was on, and my first thought was that something horrible had happened. The sick part- I was disappointed to discover that everything was normal. It's awful, how desparate I am to be angry.

And even more, I want someone to feel this vivacity with me. I want someone to dance with me in the rain, to run in the freezing cold, to cry for the children who never get to be born, to scream at the sky. I just want to know that I'm not the only one who burns.

Now THAT'S Morality

2006-01-26T20:15:00.000-08:00

I Don't Know If Your Wings Are Real...

2006-01-26T07:46:00.000-08:00

So many times when I spend time with Ms. Callie Corely, I stop for a second and think about how ridiculously beautiful she is. It can seriously take my breath away. And that's just physical beauty- then she talks, and my heart feels like it might burst with the amount of love and admiration I have for her.

A lot of times I tend to write emotions off as juvenile; they're not real to me. Talking to Callie reminds me that it's okay to feel. With Callie, it's okay to dream, it's okay to cry, it's okay to laugh for no reason. She's not afraid of everyday tragedy and everyday victory.

No kidding guys, putting things into perspective is bullshit. Your perspective is already valid, and it is senseless to cheapen what you feel just because people have felt worse before. I have the right to be sad and happy and crazy and depressed. I can dance and sing and shout.

Callie is a poorly disguised goddess. Happy Birthday Beautiful!

And Just as Love's Silhouette Appears, I Close My Eyes and Disappear Tonight

2006-01-25T02:25:00.000-08:00

tell me, baby, tell me
are you still on the stoop-
watching the windows close?
i've not seen you lately
on the street by the beach
or places we used to go

i've a picture of you on our favorite day by the seaside
there's a bird stealing bread
that i brought
out from under my nose

tell me, baby, tell me
does his company make light of a rainy day?
how i've missed you lately
and the way you would speak
and all that we wouldn't say

do his hands in your hair feel a lot like a thing you believe in?
or a bit like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose?

tell me, baby, tell me
do you carry the words around like a key or change?
i've been thinking lately
of a night on the stoop
and all that we wouldn't say

if i see you againon the street by the beach in the evening...
will you fly like a bird stealing bread out from under my nose?

I wish someone could tell me what I wanted. You'd think it would be something easy to know, right? I do miss you, and I'm sure you might understand better than I do right now, because you almost always do. Why are we always having to choose between the past and the present and the future? You can't have all three you know?

Anyway, I do love you.

They Call Them Rogues; They Travel Fast and Alone.

2006-01-23T15:08:00.000-08:00

Love is patient, Love is kind,
It does not envy, it does not boast,
It is not proud, It is not rude,
It is not self-seeking,
It is not easily angered,
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil,
but rejoices with the truth.
Love always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres.
Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends.
Love never fails.

-Corinthians 13 : 4 - 8

Dear St. Paul,
I beg to differ. All of the deepest emotions are founded in love- maybe all emotions at all. Poorly expressed love to be sure- but love. The most violent rage is instigated by love. The most intricated lies are woven to secure love that is otherwise precarious. Jealously and insecurity are the prizes won by tender hearts in competition for love. Love is defensive and afraid; love and vunerabilty are interchangeable.

Love is a shield made of opaque glass. It gives the illusion of protection, but the truth is, it can be shattered into a thousand beautiful daggers. Love has a breaking point. It's true that love will hold on to hope in the face of immutable fact, but this hope can become the crutch that she leans against, and the tonic that she cannot live with out.

It is beautiful to think that love never fails, but the truth is that sometimes love is just not enough.

Without love there is no fear. There is no jealousy, and no distrust. Without love there is no despair or heartbreak, no fury or vengence. Without love, there is no hate.

Maybe next time you write about love, you should be a little more honest.

Love is painful.
Love brings forth emotions that you never knew you had.
For love, you will cry, steal, lie and bleed.
For love, you will surrender everything you once valued.
Love incites riots and inspires poetry;
she is the muse that will not rest until exhausted beyond survival.
The death of love is a tragic release: it is rare, but real.

Love will bring forth suffering beyond imagination.

Love is always worth it.

-Lindsey 7: 11 - 20