Nature's Aria

sunset in autumn

2007-01-04T23:28:00.000-06:00

coral finger-rays stretch ever upwards
from the deepening horizon,
tracing, luminescent, the veins of
one (single) rust-orange leaf;
remaining is the gnarled oak,
(fruition, culmination, demise)
shadowed.

Memories

2006-12-26T23:43:00.000-06:00

Today – a sudden storm,
grey-blue, mist-clouds singing down a symphony of rain.
Caught, halfway between one shelter and the next,
she pauses to remember the pounding rain-scent:

Musty tomes –
repositories of ancient knowledge –
line the walls and fill the shelves
rustling in pleasant discord with books as fresh as printer’s ink.
Keeping time with one of these companions,
she remains ensconced inside,
as wind lashes against the fragile-sturdy walls.

Slender digits curl against warm porcelain.
Inhaling dark-sweet finger-steam,
she contemplates the philosophy of time,
wondering how the two relate.

Pinprick raindrops slip down cooling skin.
Shivering, she breathes heavy heat,
rising from rain puddle pavement,
and smiles.

She knows the correlation.

Freedom!

2006-12-17T11:56:00.000-06:00

Yay, its blogging time! (See, told you I’d come back!)

Finals are finally over (pun totally intended) and I have never been so glad to see a semester end. My relief is odd, since I actually enjoyed most of my classes this semester – I guess I was just getting bored. Which does not bode well for my future in a stable job.

But it’s officially the holidays now! Freedom! At the moment I’m attempting to pack to go back home to visit (Can you tell how well that’s going?), which generates decidedly mixed feelings. My parents are great, even though they occasionally drive me batty, and I really want to see Redhead again, but I am still reluctant to leave. Not only do I have to see my relatives for Christmas – and not kill any of them, which is harder than it sounds – it’s pretty much like consigning myself to having no peace for three weeks. I love them, but sometimes I just need to collect my thoughts, you know? It is somewhat analogous to committing myself for three weeks and having to cope with the inmates constantly – only without the fun padded walls. Oh well, I suppose I can always take up long walks or sleeping a lot.

At least I have a couple of writing projects over the break. I need to have a cache of poetry to fall back on and I desperately need a story to apply for admittance to the advanced fiction class in the fall! Fiction and I, we have a difficult history. I proffer creativity, it snubs my efforts and won’t talk to me for weeks; I ignore it and work on poetry, it taunts me with lovely snippets of thoughts to entice me back; I give up and pound my head against the desk, it supplies about two and a half paragraphs before abruptly leaving and sticking me with the tab. It is a torrid affair – actually it kind of sounds like an abusive relationship, should I seek counseling? Because I still love it, Fiction doesn’t mean to do these things to me, it really loves me, we just need to work through a few problems!

Fiction is about to have competition, though. I’m taking a course in creative non-fiction, so I need to identify what this crazy thing is before next semester. I think I’m going to like it, however – I mean the title in itself is a contradiction! What could be better?

That’s all for now, I’m a little rusty at this whole blogging-thing, I’m afraid. Hopefully, I’ll have something more entertaining next week!

Shakespeare's Autumn

2006-12-14T13:55:00.000-06:00

To walk the November-shadowed sidewalks
is to taste the crisp-bitter air that stalks,
licking about the edges of the face,
to gaze into the cloudless autumn sky
lost within storm-gray-blue eternity,
to crush with each soft, distracted footfall
the dying-ember shades of Nature’s cloak –
last remains of the faded dreams of trees.

Hello?

2006-12-14T13:50:00.000-06:00

So I am a bad, bad person.

Or at least blogger.

But no more! I am turning over a new leaf, starting a new regime of blogging goodness!
Are you ready? Okay, here goes:

From now on, there will be a new poem every week and a new blog every week. I figure that even I can keep up with the weekly thing! Dates are TBA, but celebrate!

I am now a reformed blogger.

Zhuangzi

2006-09-13T04:10:00.000-05:00

Are we people?
Existing,
breathing
the air of
dusty eons.
Emoting and
retaining
memories
of (never-ending)
years.

Or are we dreams?
Insubstantial
gossamer,
brief periods
of slumber.
Tempered
by the inner
processes
of someone else’s
mind.

Are we people –
or are we butterflies?

Apology!

2006-09-13T04:08:00.000-05:00

Eeek!

So life has been throughly and maliciously trouncing me lately - which is why the literariness has been sadly absent.

But it has returned!

(And the people rejoiced.)

Jasmine Tea

2006-09-05T23:44:00.000-05:00

I drink spring
in a cup made
of clay,
or china,
or, maybe, simply
of earth.
Faint fragrance
of blossoms,
sweet, but deeper,
darker, as
it recalls:
the rich, black
coffee-colored
earth,
Breathing
the musk of trees
elusive, crisp,
sensual.
Remembering:
the breeze,
sultry, heated,
briskly swift with
a sudden Chill.
It speaks
to me: a
Beginning,
light,
with grace,
a promise
acting out
its Life,
but also,
hidden,
the end of
Something
greater
and less.
It masks the
snow, the
frozen, fragile
life that
beats
so much slower,
exists
undetected.
Except for me.
Except for those
who lose
themselves
in a cup of spring,
and wake up
Warm-alive and
Cold.

Rain Dreams

2006-08-31T19:33:00.000-05:00

Such a
dreaming world –
too many to
number.
When the
sky is full,
every star
wished upon,
what can
one do with
a dream?

In the rain
there are dreams,
drops of dreams
from the
willful world.

Maybe even
a dream
to write
the rain.

Reach out
and touch
a dream.

They are
falling
all around.

A Lamppost

2006-08-29T02:16:00.000-05:00

On a solitary night
a single raindrop
falls,
splashes over
metal-tipped light
and slowly
drips
to the rocky
ground.

Once more
this journey
is repeated.

And again.

Shimmering
liquid pinpricks
race
one another
to this stony
end.
The subtle,
almost-silent
crash
of fragile drops
on hard
concrete.

Still the light
remains.
Softly glowing
through endless
water traces.

Progress

2006-08-29T01:33:00.000-05:00

Alright, I think it's time that this journal actually went in a cohesive direction. I've been looking at my schedule and there is no way that I'm going to have time for posting my life online. It's just too hectic and stressful here as it is.

However.

I am constantly writing - I think it's in the bylaws of being an english major - so this is going to turn into a literary journal. Don't worry! I consider a well-phrased true story literary as well, so if something outrageous happens or some such the stories will still appear.

So from now on this journal will be updated on Tuesday, Thursday, and over the weekend, chock full of literary goodies. Well, at least on the weeks I get lazy and stick someone else's in rather than my own. :) (Which I'm hoping will be few and far between.)

Yay, literature!

New News!

2006-08-16T18:29:00.000-05:00

I have a car now! My poor little dear has been languishing without me in Illinois for two years now, but it has arrived in Oklahoma and I am mobile again!

It's really quite freeing to have a vehicle. I'm so used to being stuck in my apartment that it's quite an adjustment to be able to leave whenever I wish. In my old apartment at Bishop's I could at least walk everywhere without getting heat stroke, but the Commons are so far from everything! It was depressing, in all honesty.

But I am like the wind now, free to travel wherever on a whim - or something like that.

Classes start in about half a week, which is generating decidedly mixed emotions, to be sure. On the one hand, I'll be happy to be thrust into the midst of life again, with people that I know and things to do and information to learn. being alone and bored is just not good for my psyche - well, actually, it's probably not good for anyone. On the other hand, there will be the work, which I won't mind in interesting classes, but... well, my GE rant was in the last post and I won't rehash that. On another hand - oh dear, I seem to have run out of hands, haven't I?

In any case, I'm trying to focus on the positives, like my poetry writing class, which I am majorly excited about. I love all sorts of writing, but poetry is the easiest for me. Although, ironically, after that fiction class last semester I'm having a hard time transitioning from one mindset to another. Maybe I'm the only one with this problem, but I find that I have to be in a completely different mood to write one genre over another. Poetry requires a lot more whimsy than fiction, which needs a dash of whimsy mixed with a great deal of energy for the long haul.

Oh well, I'm just rambling right now, which isn't very productive. Besides, I should be locating a job. Somewhere. Hopefully.

Ugh.

Uh... I'm Back?

2006-08-09T21:36:00.000-05:00

Yay, I survived Europe! And had some absolutely incredible times, as well as some that were just unbelievable - in a 'how precisely did that happen?!' sort of way.

But I'm back stateside now and trying to get my mind ready for classes. Ugh. Y'know, I wouldn't mind just taking the ones for my major, it's the other annoying and useless ones that thoroughly bother me. What's the point of my taking some class that will possibly lower my GPA and that I'll never use again? And don't give me that 'expanding the mind' stuff. My mind would prefer to be expanded in useful directions rather than towards things that I will never use again, thank you very much. Yes, my nutrition class had such a profound influence upon my life and those four semesters of french are so useful for an english major, not to mention how frequently I'm going to refer back to that calculus I took.

Sorry I'm a bit rant-ish, but I got annoying news from the Bursar recently (yep, the repository of my money that they reluctantly dole out to me semesterly - if they have to) and it's made me a bit crabby at the inefficiency of this whole system. If we just took the necessary classes, maybe with a few open-ended electives I don't know, we could all go through life much happier. At least I could.

Stupid GE requirements...

Tuesdays are Terrific

2006-06-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

(I think I should get bonus points for title alliteration!)

But yes indeed, Tuesday was fantabulous. Not just because I got to see an - interesting - movie with good friends or just chill out instead of doing homework. No, no, it gets better.

French class was canceled.

It occurred to me, as I was trying not to make loud and inappropriate sounds in the library when I got the blessed email, that dreading a class this much cannot be good for my nervous system. I literally have to shore up my courage not to flinch from and/or smack Lackwit every day. It's a draining experience.

But, I dare say that my french travails are getting boring so I'll move on to happy events. Like, have you ever noticed that dance movies generally don't have much in the way of a plot?

I saw this movie involving ballroom dancing Tuesday night and it was predictable and vaguely boring, but the gratuitous dancing scenes were the real selling point anyway, so I just jived along.

It hit me later on, however, that all the dancing movies I've ever seen are like that.

Centerstage, The Turning Point, Save the Last Dance, The Company...

All have pretty dancing and very little else.

Logically, I leaped to the idea of a vast conspiracy. Naturally.

Though I'm not sure what this could hope to accomplish as a grand scheme. A secret chuckle that people keep going to see these flicks? The fulfillment of an ancient religious sects divine purpose? Sheer, unadulterated malice?

Or maybe they take such a long time filming the dancing that, when they are almost out of time, they suddenly realize that they completely forgot the other bits and do them all in a matter of hours.

I love logic.

Day Six

2006-06-12T19:42:00.000-05:00

It's Day Six of French.

As in (fill in corny accent): Day seeks of ze twenty dayz of 'ell

It truly shouldn't be such a bad class, I know the material all too well, the instructor is fun, and six of the other students are very friendly.

And then there's Lackwit.

I don't really like to bash people, everyone has their faults, heaven knows I'm riddled with them. People also have amazingly wonderful qualities. I'm sure even Lackwit has one. I just don't know what it is, where it is, and why it's hiding.

He's driving me slowly insane and, as those who know me know, that's already a very short jaunt.

It's not just that he doesn't get the language and stops us every five or so minutes; alone this is annoying, but understandable. I mean, he wants to pass the class. No, it's the utter and complete lack of social skills that he routinely displays that makes me want to tattoo 'Soccer Sucks' on his forehead and drop him into a crowd of avid World Cup fans.

Actually I think that's one of the nicer fates I've designed for him during my two hour period of suffering every day. I'm pretty sure they would leave him alive, which is a great misfortune. Unless he was rendered mute. I could handle him mute. It's a morbid hobby, but contemplating acts of violence upon his person is the only way to prevent myself from actually committing them, and I think that would be just a bit worse.

Still there's only 14 more days. I can make it. I know I can.

In honor of Lackwit, though, I'm adding a new section at the end of each post entitled "Lackwit's Daily Wit-Lacking." (Catchy, no?) So here's the first installment.

Lackwit's Daily Wit-Lacking
(It's hard to pick only one, but I will try.)

(For this one, bear in mind that everyone in my class is excited about the World Cup, particularly my Argentinian professor who calls home about every hour to make sure it's being taped.)
(Also, the words may not be exact (My memory's not that great!), but you'll get the general idea.)

Lackwit: I don't get this whole World Cup thing. Soccer's boring, there's too much passing.
Prof: Ah! Soccer is great!
LW: Football is better, it's more interesting. Why is everyone so excited about it?
Prof: But you have a Superbowl every year, the World Cup is every four years, so we get very excited.
LW: It's boring. Besides the US isn't even going to make it anywhere, so we'll all stop caring.
Prof: That's only one of 32 (?) countries, though.
LW: (I'm cringing anew while writing this, BTW) Yeah, but the US is the most powerful country in the world and when they don't care it's just not important.
Prof: (At a loss) I don't know what to say.
LW: Besides there's too much passing, no one ever scores. It's boring.

In The Park

2006-06-09T20:32:00.000-05:00

Whoosh!

That's the sound of this week flying past me. At faster than the speed of light.

But I won't bore you with the details of my classes, since I'm sure everyone is trying to relax in the summer. Besides I have more important news.

I was accosted by a squirrel yesterday.

I know, it seems hard to believe, but it's true. 100% I swear.

I went out between my classes to eat my goldfish (Crackers, people! Honestly.) and settled on a nice shaded bench. I popped open King Henry IV and was munching my way through Act III, when I happened to glance over the top.

There was a squirrel sitting about a foot away from me.

I was startled, but I thought that he was kind of cute and figured that he was just passing through on his way to another tree. I went back to my book.

A few minutes later, I peered over the top and didn't see the squirrel, but, before I could relax, I looked down.

There was a squirrel at my feet.

To my credit, I didn't panic (After all, he was still cute.), I just packed up my gear and tried to quietly leave. I didn't want to make a scene, he probably was going to feel bad enough about being rejected. So I just slowly made my way towards the sidewalk.

He followed me.

Now, much as I like nature, I didn't particularly want a squirrel following me to class, so I stepped up the pace and managed to get away. But I felt a little guilty.

I mean, he obviously was used to people feeding him, but how close would he have come? I've seen some people feed the squirrels out of their hands. That's a little too close for my comfort. I feel bad about the little misguided squirrel, though, he who has degenerated to being a bum among squirrels. Being mocked by his robust and hard-working peers. Begging with his tin acorn on the sidewalks instead of putting in a decent day's work in the foraging biz. Poor little guy.

Maybe I should have tossed a goldfish over my shoulder as I fled the scene.

Ahhhh!

2006-06-07T14:52:00.000-05:00

Moving is a pain.

A big pain.

So I think I've finally got just about everything settled and moved in. My roommate, the only one I've met so far, isn't bad actually. She's quite cheerful, fairly neat, and we don't see much of one another, so it will probably all work out well.

The other roommate is MIA.

I don't know when I'm going to see her. Where she's been. If she's still alive.

Ah well, if I don't meet her, then I can't dislike her. I hope.

BTW, my messages are probably going to be pretty short for a little while. I'm still trying got adjust to this new schedule for the summer (one which has me walking 2.5 miles to class and back, by the way!) and I don't have the internet at home currently. I'm sure I'm settle down and have more free time to spend at the library, but until then I'm just going to have to be brief.

Brevity is the soul of wit, right?

Stress in Motion

2006-06-05T03:05:00.000-05:00

To heck with maudlin, I just want this move to be over with!

What changed between Friday night and now, I hear you ask with a curious sigh and slow backwards motion?

Moving did, that's what.

Not me, of course, not quite yet, that's for tomorrow. But K moved out on Saturday and I helped load the SUV and trailer, from which I got bruises that make me look like I've been mauled. Then my (lovely, wonderful, drive 9 hours to help me move) parents arrived today and I carried more (still more?!) boxes down to the van. Which action, by the way, did not exactly help my new bruises.

Tomorrow, D-day (M-day rather), we have to take all those boxes and move them to my new, third floor apartment.

Ugh.

Not before noon, of course, because the Commons aren't too terribly fond of me. (Possibly because I've been haranguing them with questions for a month, but really some things a person just has to know!) So I have to dash in the two hour break between my classes to get my key and unload as many boxes as possible.

Why do I not feel all that confident about this moving business?

(I promise, possibly after one more complain-y post, that I will go back to other, more interesting aspects of life, but this is sort of an all-consuming phenomena/disaster at the moment. Bear with me through this ordeal, if you would be so kind!)

An (Unhumourous) Interlude

2006-06-03T05:36:00.000-05:00

It's late in the evening, or early in the morning rather, but I'm still hopping about so I thought I'd leave an update on the moving process. Although I must warn you that I'm in a very reflective mood. You might want to check back later for my usual attempts at humor.

It's sad, which is why I'm trying not to think about it, but tonight is the last night that K and I will spend under the same roof. Tomorrow her parents are coming up from Texas around noon to help her change apartments and it will be the end of this era. I know that two years is a short era as they go, but it does almost seem like the end of something very vital. Actually this whole three week break has almost felt like a long period of letting go. Maudlin, I suppose, but very true. I left my teens behind when I turned twenty, K and I are moving into separate homes and leaving each other at last, and it's the end of my first two years here in Oklahoma.

It's not been quite what I expected here. I suppose I thought that I would come in, pistols blazing, and take the world by storm. It's been much quieter than that, however. I've slipped from astrophysics into english, by way of finding my (hopefully) true calling in the world of book editing, gradually opened into becoming far more social than I ever imagined such an introverted person could be, and (what I might be proudest of) finally came to understand and accept that it is what I take away from my education, what useful and meaningful purpose it serves in my life, that matters, not solely what grade I manage to get.

It's not a completely rosy picture, naturally, the transition of majors in particular was very painful. It's not easy to give up a dream, even one that never truly made me happy, but I prevailed and, other than rare 4 am moments of doubt and recrimination, I have not really regretted the decision. I've made it this far and, while I don't have all of the answers I thought I would have by now or indeed have any great feelings of security about the future, it seems almost possible that I might just make it to the end of this journey after all.

It feels as though I'm surrounded by the bitter-sweetness of these two years tonight, drowning in this quiet deluge of memories. It'll be alright in the morning, when life rushes back in with a cataclysmic whooshing sound and whisks me back onto the next leg of my race. Even now, I'm feeling brighter at the thought of a new day before me.

Strength is, I believe, what these two years have gifted me with in the greatest amount. The strength to keep going, the strength to realize that I have to keep going because I cannot go backwards. Perhaps, if the truth be told, the strength to not wish to go backwards at all, but to face an uncertain future with hope.

And strength.

Moving Blues

2006-05-31T14:36:00.000-05:00

Ah! I'm surrounded!

By boxes, that is. Yep, I'm in the midst of packing up for my next relocation. It's becoming a biannual event, which is slightly ridiculous. Even when Dad was in the military it was only every 2-3 years! Ah well, I suppose it's a college thing that I should get used to.

Thankfully I really don't have that much to pack or move. The biggest collection of boxes are the ones holding (of course) my books. I managed to fit them all into three boxes, but I have a feeling I'm going to regret having so many books. Quickly. Especially since I'm moving from a second floor apartment here to a third floor apartment there. This could be painful.

I'm also losing a lot of cabinet space which makes me sad. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I have room for my books AND my clothes. Logically I know what my choice ought to be if the two conflict, but I know me. Quite well, actually, and I'm not entirely sure that I won't decide that clothes are highly overrated possessions.

In any case my apartment is looking despairingly white and desolate. Well, what you can see of it around the boxes. It's going to be even worse come Saturday after K moves the living room furniture out!

I'm really heartbroken about leaving here because, not only am I moving in with three perfect strangers (or not-so-perfect if my paranoia is to be trusted), but I'm also leaving this happy little haven that we made here. It's so cozy and nice and, well, downright homey! I keep trying to tell myself that I might like my new digs even better, but that doesn't always work.

Although the allure of having my own washer and dryer in the apartment often comes through in a pinch. It will be amazing not to have to go a-hunting for quarters anymore!

Prey

2006-05-28T16:41:00.000-05:00

I've finally recovered enough sleep to be able to relate some of our amazing adventures over the past week.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure whether or not I would ever regain my energy, as most of our adventures seemed to involve getting only 5 hours of sleep a night and then walking all day.

But I survived - and revived - so now I'm back, chock full of entertaining news! Or something in that general vicinity at least.

Believe it or not (I almost didn't believe it), Redhead and Skinny did make it in perfectly alright on Monday at about 11 pm. They were a bit late, plus a bit aggravated, but they did make it here. Needless to say, our adventures didn't start until Tuesday, since they just collapsed Monday night after the drive.

Tuesday morning, after I vowed that I was never sleeping on the floor again in my entire life, we got up quite early and headed off to Oklahoma City, where we wound up at the zoo. Apparently it's the largest zoo, land-wise, in the country. (On a side note, I've noticed that nearly everything in Oklahoma is 'land-wise.' Granted they don't really have a whole heck of a lot to do with all this land, but it just begins to seem a little silly after a while.) It was a nice zoo, as they go, but it was quite hot, up in the 90s, and without the wind I'm not sure that we would have made it through the whole thing. As it was we skipped the 'hooved animals,' figuring that we had probably seen enough deer in Illinois to last us a lifetime.

The aquatic section was really neat, however, and not only because it was in an air-conditioned building. There were no sharks, much to our dismay, but the seals and sea lions were great fun and the fish were incredibly pretty. Plus there was this turtle that, all on it's own, convinced me to never put so much as a toe in any body of water that is not a crystal clear swimming pool. It was half as big as me! And I just know that it's second cousin, twice removed, will be lurking about, waiting for me, in the next lake that I decide to go in.

And I'm just not emotionally ready to be eaten.

The Man Behind the Counter

2006-05-22T22:39:00.000-05:00

So far in their trek south, Redhead and Skinny have not had phenomenal luck. I can state that with assurance, as they call me every time that something goes wrong. I have a feeling that I am somehow to blame for their misfortune, but I'm not exactly sure how or why. (Did I forget a sacrifice to Murphy?)

Anyway, I'm sure that once they buy their second tire of the day, they'll be zipping right along down the road again.

Meanwhile, I've spent the day wandering Norman trying to find somewhere to change my five dollars into twenty quarters. I felt rather like a homeless waif there towards the end, creeping slowly from machine to machine, holding out my five dollar bill with a plaintive, "Please sir, can you exchange this without rejecting it or attempting to consume it?"

Eventually, of course, I wound up staring this very nice man at Crossroads straight in the eye, as I asked in a plaintive voice for the change from my soda to be all in quarters. Poor man. I think he thought I was deranged, what with the desperate light in my eyes. All he did, though, was give me a pitying smile and count out quarters for me. I was pathetically grateful.

I suppose it's sort of a cosmic balance for the man in the custard shop last night. He was wonderfully helpful, but ever so chatty! By the time we left I knew more about custard than I ever really wanted to know - but I'll be going back. With my new-found knowledge of custard shop grades, I now know that this new grade 10 shop is rated twice as high as any other shops south of Wisconsin. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I do know that the custard was an absolutely mind-blowing experience. It was this creamy chocolate custard (made with real Belgium chocolate, I learned) blended with raspberries and white chocolate, topped with shaved Belgium chocolate.

If I could have uttered a coherent sentence, I would have given it a 10, too.

I'm Old!

2006-05-22T04:32:00.000-05:00

Whew! It's been a long weekend!

I'm now officially 20 and I'm not finding the beginning of my third decade as scary as it sounded from the other side. I'm not entirely sure what I expected, (A great crashing gate with a tolling voice of doom?), but I'm happy to say that it did not materialize.

I did a little partying and found a new great custard shop with the most intriguing man behind the counter, but that's a story for a time when I have energy. Right now I'm about ready to pass out at the keyboard!

Tomorrow, or today rather, Redhead and Skinny are making the drive down here to check out my new haunting ground. We have a whole week of wild adventures planned out, or at least mildly interesting adventures, so I'll try to relay some of the wackier instances.

Unless they could be possibly misused as blackmail against me later.

Sorry, but a girl/woman has to watch out for herself these days!

BPE!

2006-05-17T17:54:00.000-05:00

Yay, I finally got somewhere on the BPE! A couple 'somewhere's,' to be precise.

Let's see, Monday I finally found the library, which was fun. It really isn't so far away and it was such a pleasant day! I wandered and admired people's houses and front lawns and reveled in the upper 70's. It was almost worth the winter cold to have such a day! I suppose there is balance in the universe.

The library here is bigger than the one I used before, back where my parents still live. (For now, at least.) Yet, I don't think I like it as much. Maybe because I'm just not used to it, or maybe it's due to the fact that I really loved that calm, quiet nook of my universe. This new nook isn't so calm or quiet, it's not a rave or anything, but it has the buzz of too much energy for what is supposed to be such a peaceful place.

Maybe I just came at a bad time, there were a lot of children there. They aren't exactly conducive to a laid-back environment.

Still, I registered for a card and got a few books and actually liked a few of them. I have a pattern for checking out books, you see. I get a few that I actually came for, a few that I've heard good things about, and then a few that I've never seen before, but look somewhat promising. It's a good system.

I've been very into eclectic mysteries lately, so I wound up with a few of those, but I left room for some literature as well. Can't live without that, I do believe.

Anyway, yesterday I got a late start due to the distraction of Monday's catch, but I did head off eventually. I wandered around Campus Corner and found so many shops that I'd never heard of before. There are lovely, little nook-and-cranny shops that look absolutely delicious! I may have to drag Redhead and Skinny into them when they come down to visit me. I didn't really want to go in by myself, shopping is so much more fun when you have friends along to point things out to one another. Much more entertaining. Oh, and I so want to go to Cafe Plaid! It was hidden in the shadow of another building and looks delightfully mysterious. I so love little shops, because you never know what sort of treasures may linger tucked away in some forgotten corner. Chain stores just don't have the same character.

Once done roaming, I went off and located one of the secondhand bookstores, but decided against finding anymore because, realistically, a poor college student does not need such temptation right at her fingertips. I barely made it out of the store without buying half-a-dozen books. I was quite proud of myself, but I just couldn't do it again. I think I'll stick to the free library.

Today's a lazy day, so I'm being a homebody, I'll probably do some baking this evening, though, and wallow in my books.

What a pity, I might have to go back to the library on Friday!

The Spawn of a Minor Detour

2006-05-14T21:16:00.000-05:00

Okay, well after thinking about it for awhile, I actually turned the dissertation about poetry into a poem. It's sort of odd if you think about it, but I just don't dwell on the existential dilemma and life turns out fine. Anyway, the poem is below, if you're interested. I think it may need a bit more, but this is the rough version, at least.

Poetry

Today didn't show any real forays into the BTE, but tomorrow will change all that and I will become a girl/woman of my word. I haven't quite decided yet which part of the list I'm going to start with, but one of them will be done.

Oh, I almost forgot to add to it! I decided that simply finding the library would not be enough, so now I must:

6. Locate some secondhand bookstores.

I've already found the addresses for four bookstores and I saw quite a nice-looking one whilst zooming across town with Kathleen. The preliminary work is done! Now I just have to sally forth and conquer this new territory.

I am quite tired from hiking to the store today (not to mention making some delicious mushroom soft tacos!), so I'm going to go fold my weary bones into a chair with a good book.

Today my bed, tomorrow the world!

Minor Detour

2006-05-14T01:04:00.000-05:00

I hadn't really intended to post again so soon, but this came to me abruptly and demanded attention. Really! I actually stopped re-watching "Pirates of the Caribbean" to write this, that's how imploring this notion felt. And if that is not sacrifice, I just don't know what is. Anyway.

A little back-story, first.

My friend and I were complaining earlier about this one girl who was in our fiction class, not solely because of her personality, surprisingly. Although she was arrogant about her work and her life, not to mention viewed those of us who did not have a rich father to fund our education and future endeavors as beneath her, which quite plainly and obviously got under our skin, it was her ideas that bothered us the most.

When we were discussing before class one day, in a friendly way, about who was taking the poetry class next semester with the same professor that we currently had, she burst in (another bad habit of hers) with a quick and dirty synopsis about the art. It went something to the effect of how SHE could never stand poetry, since it was so ‘limited.’ SHE needed lots of room to express herself, in fact even the short stories/novellas that we were doing in class were too ‘limited’ for her. SHE was going to write a novel, which would be, of course, absolutely wonderful and which, of course, necessitated her telling us, again, about how she was switching from the English department to the Journalism department. Since, of course, the professional writing program in that department is SO much better than the English department.

Not even mentioning, in very much detail at least, how truly academically limiting the Professional Writing program is (The English department makes sure that our curriculum is such that we have the skills to actually survive to make it to our future careers, though that doesn’t matter to the person who assures us that ‘Daddy’ was so confident about her future with his ‘connections.’), there is still the fact that she verbally bashed an entire art form in front of at least three people who planned to pursue it!

In any case, I was watching “Pirates of the Caribbean,” as I said, and, when Jack gave his speech about freedom, it inspired me to write a similar piece in application to poetry. Those of you who have seen the movie will recognize the outline and, I hope, those poets or those who appreciate the art out there will agree with the sentiments.

A poem is not rhyme and meter and words strung together and making sure it’s not too verbose or too long or has too many unnecessary words or phrases, and it’s not assonance and consonance and metaphors and alliteration and the thousand other little details you learn in high school as you doodle in the margins of your spiral-bound notebook.

That is what a poem needs.

What a poem is, what a truly good poem is, is an effort to capture a moment. A moment that is touching or horrible or tragic or wonderful or deeply human or simply inexpressible, but you feel compelled to try anyway. A moment that you cannot let be forgotten or slip away, so you try to recreate it, wrapped in words, special words that are plucked from the world with care and attention. All in the hopes that, even for an infinitesimal second, someone will laugh or cry or see or hurt or marvel the same as you did at that exact moment. A hope that it will matter to them and affect them and become imprinted upon them as it was upon you, because then it will live on forever.

That is what a poem is.

Fireworks

2006-05-13T23:14:00.000-05:00

Well a friend of mine had a graduation party last night, so I didn't get much done today for the BPE (Battle Plan for Excitement, in case you've forgotten), but I did begin on the cleaning part of it, so I don't feel like TOO much of an underachiever. Commencement went off splendidly, at least that's what I've heard, since I didn't know it was starting until, well, it had begun. But I did get to see the fireworks! Living as close to the stadium as I do, when I heard the gunshot noises (assuming that it was, in fact, not actual gunshot) I ran out to my porch like the veritable gunshot that did (hopefully) not exist. At the very end of the railing, where I live luckily, I could watch over the trees and see the riotous explosions of colors against the sky. It was lovely, all vibrant golds and greens and such against the dark backdrop. Very eye-dazzling, indeed.

I do like fireworks, but only from a distance. My parents, on the Fourth of July, used to like to sit almost right under where the fireworks would go off. Now, if it wasn't scary enough to see points of light blazing a trail directly down towards you (I rather felt like I was in the path of a meteor shower), there was also the most incredible noise! And not in any good way, either. I would try in vain to cover my ears or ignore the cannon fire, until I could no longer take it and slink off to the van. Of course that wasn't such a bad option, once I figured out that, when I laid in the back seat (far more comfortable than the scratchy lawn chairs), I could still see the fireworks without rupturing my eardrums.

I realized today, as I was looking through my entries, that I stopped posting my portfolio here once I was free of the blessed burden. Now that seemed quite unfair, so I went back to see what I had left out. It seems, however, that there's only one more exercise that I'm willing to put here. See, there are actually eight exercises, I promise, but #4 and #5 make me blush (Hey, I was just responding to the prompts, all right?!), #7 wouldn't make much sense unless you've read "A Gathering of Old Men," and #8 is just plain weird. I suppose there is "Rebecca," but I am not posting 33 pages on here just to share that one. As much as I would like for you all to read it, that is a bit excessive.

Now, that being said, exercise #6 is just fine for putting up. Well, it is a little over-the-top, but I was working with a prompt and it was just an evil one, okay?! This will be the last of the portfolio pieces on here (Now is the moment to lament... or rejoice, if that's your inclination.) so please enjoy!

Guardian

Well, That Didn't Take Long...

2006-05-12T19:44:00.000-05:00

So, being as aimless as only someone who not one week ago was whining for an inch of free time can be, I have already come up with my list! Ready?

(Really, you should know by now that these questions are rhetorical. Please stop crying so that I can continue. Thank you.)

1. Walk around Campus Corner.

Alright, I've lived here (mostly) for two years, been on campus (mostly) for two years, and I still haven't seen every little cranny of this place! So, now that I have this utterly barren week (lovely phrase!) I'm going to wander to my hearts content. I even saw a sign about some sort of writing store. It's sad, but I'm like a kid in a candy shop when it comes to writing/office supplies. I don't even really need anything (I'm pretty sure, anyway...), but I just love to look. Hopefully I'll find that particular shop in my travels.

2. Ride the Cart

Again, this is one of those experiences I don't want to miss out on. Who knows where it may go? Logically, I suppose I'm not going to discover an undiscovered paradise of verdant glories, but I might find something interesting all the same. At least the public library, which leads me to...

3. Go to the public library

Okay, I've been alright with the University library so far. (Which I'm proud to say I finally figured out: decks, stacks, and collections. Many of each. Good luck.) Still, as wonderful as the library has been to me, there is a great dearth of fiction. I mean, there are the classics, which I love, but no newer stuff. No Hoffman, which has me utterly upset. I adore her work. The detail and the emotion and the unexpected, full-bodied characters! But I digress. I want a little fiction in my life that I have not read to pieces. So I'm gonna find some.

4. Check out new home

I'm (sadly) moving in June. Only two miles away, but it's still a move! I need to scope out the new area, although I cannot possibly be more in love with it than I am with my current home. Despite various minor problems and age, this place has such personality! And so many lovely trees. Trees are an absolute necessity in my life.

5. Tidy

Okay, so this is not nearly as exciting or even as outdoorsy, but it is needed. I have friends traveling nine hours to see me after all! I can at least welcome them with an abode free of the finals mayhem. Not that there is much to be done, just a little neatening, maybe some dusting. That is my absolute worst fear when I move in with new apartment buddies. What if they aren't neat? I might snap. I don't want to, it is truly the only thing that could possibly annoy me. Well, I guess maybe if they beat me up or something. But it's the only thing short of outright violence that would annoy me. Please, oh please, oh please, let them be neat!

That's all that I have, aside from reading of course, but that was kind of a given. There are a few of Shakespeare's comedies that I haven't read yet for my summer class, so I'll probably go through those before I dive into my collection from the library. Which I will gather if I follow through on #3! Plus, I think there's going to be this great thunderstorm next Friday. I can hardly wait! I'll curl up with a notebook and some tea. Oh, it'll be lovely!

Alright, I'm going to knock off #5 so that nothing comes between me and my new Battle Plan for Excitement! (BPE, for short. :D)

Freedom!

2006-05-12T17:15:00.000-05:00

I'm FREE!!! Free!! Muah Ha Ha!

Ahem, well I took my last (okay, only) final today. I don't know how I did in anything, but the french was actually really fun!

Not the grammar part, obviously, but the composition was a hoot. See, she gave us the first half of l'histoire de Cendrillion (Cinderella :) ) and then let us A) just write the ending out in French or B) make up our own ending. (Still in French, though. Sadly.)

Needless to say, I chose option B!

So, in my version, (in slaughtered French) Cinderella gets fed up after the ball and asks why she had to go that silly thing anyway. Despite her godmother's assertions that Cinderella of course wanted to go, she protests that it was all her godmother's idea. Stoutly, she declares that all she wants is to leave her stepmother's house forever, get a nice place of her own, and have a steady job.

Honestly, who wouldn't prefer that?

I find myself at loose ends right now. I mean, I'm glad that these classes are over, but I find that I don't know quite what to do with myself for the coming week. After this I have friends visiting and moving and all of the other summer madness, but this week is going to be slow and simple, I believe.

So I am, of course, going to make a bunch of resolutions that I probably won't keep!

Once I have them compiled, I'll let you know how it's going.

Or not going. As the case will probably be.

If You Were Wondering...

2006-05-09T14:53:00.000-05:00

Guess what I learned today?

Apparently the little plastic piece on the end of your shoelaces is called an 'aglet.'

This has been your bit of useless trivia for the week.

Experiment

2006-05-08T12:32:00.001-05:00

Whee! Isn't this pretty? It's shortly going to be my user icon. Once I figure out exactly how to go about doing this...

Fame and Fortune

2006-05-08T00:41:00.000-05:00

Sometimes my email inbox has the most amazing things. Other times it has nothing, because I'm unloved, but those times aren't as exciting. Or as easy on the kleenex.

Today, though, was a good day. When I opened it I saw immediately that I had a message from FastWeb. Now this doesn't normally fill my heart with glee, since these people are trying to hang onto a ship that's already sailed. I signed up on their website when I needed a place with college info, my attempt to look at all sides of my prospective choices. Now, though, I am at the end of my second year in college and they will NOT give up. I just don't know how to break it to the people that I just no longer need their handy college application tips. I'm afraid it would break them.

Today, though, was better than usual. As I rolled my eyes and went to delete the message, I noticed the subject line and paused in the action.

"Blogging for Progress"

Hmm. Intrigued, I thought that maybe this was something I could do. After all, I have a blog and I assume that it's progressing in some direction. I clicked on the link and perused the subsequent page.

Apparently they have a different view on progress than I did.

Turns out that you have to create a blog about politics and policies in order to be eligible to enter the contest. Although I felt my daring expose on the free pen industry was worthy of consideration, I'm not sure that I could do that everyday. Plus, I'm not sure about the quality of my life if I did. I mean, how disillusioned would I become? How many half-brained schemes would it engender?

No, it's probably best that I do not attempt the contest.

Although the one thousand dollars would have been useful, maybe then I could actually buy more than one bag of groceries.

I believe that I'll keep FastWeb on my email list, though. After all, they might come out with a contest for a rambling blog about life as a nutty english major and I would be a total shoe-in.

Plus, it mean that my inbox will never be completely empty. I'm willing to accept mass-produced love over none at all.

Risky Business

2006-05-07T06:12:00.000-05:00

So I realized that I'm not going to be getting any sleep for some time. (Mainly because I mistakenly looked at the calender. The date I discussed previously? It's exactly two weeks from today. Two. Could you sleep after that?) So I figured that I could at least get something semi-productive done with my time. That failed, though, and now I'm back here!

Risk was so much fun tonight. Especially since I got to do a scientific study at the same time. Indeed, I shall now present to you my conclusions, laboriously gathered over a three-hour game of Risk.

Beginning: Light laughter as we all get our cards and stake out countries. It's a fun game, right? All our pieces are on the board and I get to play first - a coveted position, to be sure. And I only had to kick Lawyer-Boy in the knee so that his dice screwed up for me to get it. Hey, the name of the game is 'world domination,' right? You think real dictators stick to that 'fair play' nonsense? You're so naive.

Action Time: The lightness has vanished from the room as though it had never been. This is serious business and we all have our game faces on. As I realize that Africa, where my stronghold of Amazonian blue attack women reside, is vulnerable to attack on two sides, I quickly make over-the-table negotiations.

"Hey, Little? Look, you leave me be in Africa and I'll restrain from slaughtering your people from Urul, okay? Asia is all yours, think of the benefits!"

I could see the greed flicker over her face and, in moments, I had my first treaty and was ready to turn my attention to obliterating Lawyer-Boy's forces in South America.

See, Lawyer-Boy made the mistake, before the game even began, of claiming that he was the uncontested King of both Risk and the world. He might be good, his strategy might be sound, but there were four of us to one of him and he was poorly positioned.

Within the first hour and a half, his goose was cooked.

After that, the four of us left exchanged friendly talk and were thinking maybe of co-ruling when we noticed that Moneybags had been steadily putting forces on all of his borders. Although he tried to laugh it off, we could see the flame of glory in his eyes and knew the truth. How richly we had been deceived.

Unfortunately, Moneybags had not anticipated our preemptive strikes and, shortly after Birdy stomped out his South American empire, Little wiped out his last bastions in Europe. His short, but brutal, reign was at an end.

Winding Down: At this point I realized that, with the excesses of war laid upon my two comrade's shoulders, I had the most well-developed army on the board. Not content with my warm and fertile homeland, I struck north, where Birdy sat strung out in Europe and quickly brought the nation under my gentle, iron control.

I was thinking of turning my attention to Asia, when the boys grew tired of being the cheering committee and put a movie in. Casting a weather eye at the stack of cards that Little would have come her turn and thinking of her wrath should I break my treaty, I cheerfully suggested a cease-fire, which was agreed to.

Although not without talk of revenge.

What can I say, a girl/woman has to live up to her dreams. Besides, I'm now the Empress of Africa and Europe! What more could I ask for?

Other than the rest of the world, that is. Hehehe...

Ahem. But, anyway, I believe I promised you scientific results.

I mainly noticed, in between plotting, that girls have a much different set of tactics than guys do. The three of us freely discussed strategy, while they were very close to the chest. Plus, they were all out for themselves. There was no treaty making going on over there, it was an all-or-nothing mode of thinking. I suppose that's why we survived, we banded together under the guise of friendship and systematically wiped out the war-mongers.

Although, come to think of it, I then completely ignored out treaty and wiped out Europe. What does that say about women?

For the good of females everywhere, whatever lesson comes from this is one I'm definitely not going to learn. Hey, we're not the war-mongers, right?

Celebration Time!

2006-05-07T05:18:00.000-05:00

I just got back from a celebratory evening of Thai, Risk, and Jesus Christ Superstar!

Guess what I was celebrating?

My baby! My 84 page baby that I am ready to hand over and thus achieve life-long success and fiscal freedom!

Well, I might settle for a decent grade.

But there would have to be chocolate involved.

Drum Roll, Please!

2006-05-05T19:52:00.000-05:00

Alright it took about 5 hours or so, but I have finally finished "Rebecca."

Let us have a moment of silence for my poor fingers, which faithfully churned out 34 pages for this story. There is so much more that I want to do with it, but it is at a stopping point and I'm not going to tempt fate.

I can see the headlines now, "Girl/Woman perishes attempting to finish project for final grade. Quote from the deceased 'It just wouldn't stop! I tried, but the ideas and the writing and the words!' More on page 3."

So I think I'll go with what I have now. Just to be on the safe side.

Guess what! I only have 5 more exercises, 2 papers, and a french final before I am totally done and can kiss this semester goodbye!

I'm both excited and exhausted. Simultaneously.

You'll be amused to know, I'm sure, that I managed to work my free pen idea into the story. I was giggling so hard as I added it in that I think I might have scared away the guy sitting next to me. I wish I could say I felt guilty about that, but really what did he expect in a computer lab on Dead Week?

Before I head back with my finger stubs to keep chugging away, here is my third exercise for your enjoyment. Or your sarcasm. I take either. I especially enjoy them together!

Exercise #3

Nerve-Wracking

2006-05-05T14:59:00.000-05:00

This is the first time that I've posted away from my home computer, but I desperately needed a break from working on my portfolio. Aside from feeling slightly criminal-esqe as I toss slight glances over my shoulder, it's not so bad I suppose.

My 20 page project has managed to blossom into this ever-enlargening behemoth and I'm not sure whether I should be excited or alarmed about his prospect. On the one hand, it's great that I don't have to cram my work full of junk to flesh it out enough for the page requirement. On the down side, I'm not entirely sure when it plans on stopping. Normally I would be okay with that, but I kind of need to turn it in on Monday and it would be mildly inconvenient if it was still in pieces. I know that my professor said it would be alright if the work was incomplete, but I somehow don't think she would be okay if the incomplete part was in the middle.

It's really makes things difficult, actually, that I write things out of order. I generally begin at the ending and then jump to the beginning before starting to work on the middle area in several pieces. In the middle of the process, my poor creation looks like it has leprosy, with these huge open patches and parts that aren't on par and sections that are just little jotted ideas. It's vaguely annoying, not to mention daunting, but it works. Somehow it's the system that always works for me, so I just go with it.

But I have to go now, return to my regularly scheduled activity, before one of these strange individuals behind me decides that my work is infinitely more exciting than their own and decides to check it out.

That's just creepy.

Pen Planning

2006-05-04T23:07:00.000-05:00

Do you ever wonder why free pens always work the best? I mean, sure, the pens that I go out and actually buy at the store are used until the bitter end. (Which occurs very rapidly. I'm like the serial murderer of the pen-world, none are safe from my verbose-ness!) But nothing beats a free pen.

Honestly, I swear it's true, they are more comfortable and they last longer, plus I get that little tingling feeling of my inner Scrooge doing a happy dance every time I use something that I had to spend exactly zero cents on. I think I've figured out why this phenomenon occurs, however.

This morning in class I had whipped out my Lexapro pen to draft out my next exercise when, amid the sleep deprivation and hunger and general finals horridness, I found myself wondering what exactly Lexapro does and whether it could help me in any way. By the end of the class I was fully ready to leap into the world of prescription drugs without a backwards glance and it was only after a long hard look in the vaguely reflective windows that I could back myself away from the idea.

It revealed to me, however, the inner workings of the free pen industry.

See, they figure if the pen is comfortable enough to get the pen user addicted and long lasting enough for the pen user to have it around for a long while, eventually there will be a weak moment in their life when whatever is on the outside of that pen looks absolutely fascinating. It's a carefully planned long-range attack system upon the consumer populace and I would be horrified if it wasn't so delightfully evil that I can only watch in awe.

In conclusion, am I planning on not using free pens anymore? Heck no! In fact, I plan on getting in contact with a pen company very shortly to see how much they can fit on the barrel of a pen. I figure that if I get those huge, child-crayon sized ones I may be able to fit the first few sentences of my work on one. Then, after I flood the publishing houses with my free pens, all I have to do is wait until an editor has a frazzled day and determines that the few sentences on his amazing free pen are the beginnings of the next great American novel.

After that it's a one-way ticket to easy street.

I Wish I Could Sleep...

2006-05-04T05:04:00.000-05:00

Well, on the bright side, I whipped up the second exercise in record time and have actually plotted out the next three. I'm actually feeling pretty good about that! But I'm tired. And I can't decide whether to sleep or not. I wish humans didn't have to sleep, it would be so much more convenient. Can you imagine? Suddenly, late night diners are the norm. People are always running amuck and there's plenty of time to accomplish every task.

On second thought, maybe that wouldn't be so great. I mean, the night is special in a way because it is so empty of the human rush that breathes into every inch of the daylight hours. Besides, I have no doubt that, with extra time, the People In Charge would simply ladle on even more work. I guess what I really need is some sort of special dispension where only I don't have to sleep. Or eat.

Somehow I don't see that happening any time in the near future.

So I will continue to muddle through. To help you all out at this late hour, though, you have my second exercise! Aren't you so lucky?

Exercise #2

Update!

2006-05-03T01:42:00.000-05:00

Just thought I'd celebrate now that I have turned out one of the fiction exercises for my semester portfolio! For a little clarity, these are little annoying creations that exist only to taunt me with their incompleteness. For each one the professor gave us some sort of prompt and now we have to write a 500 word minimum piece following the guidelines thereof. It's interesting, but some of the prompts make me want to beat my head on the computer. What am I supposed to write about some of these?! But I now have one done, so hooray!

Now, there's just seven more of these, my 20 pg. story, and a paper... and my other classes.

Maybe my celebration is a tad bit premature.

Oh well, I'm happy with it anyway, both because I actually mostly like it for a change and because it's one less thing I have to write!

Back to the grindstone for me, but enjoy the fruits of my labor so far!

Exercise #1

Vital Concerns

2006-05-03T00:29:00.000-05:00

I had the hardest time getting to this journal today! It was as though fate has conspired against me to stop my every effort to log on, but (No Fear!) I made it and can now ramble to my hearts content!

So many silly questions were bugging me today. Like, when do I stop referring to myself as a girl and begin to call myself a woman? It's petty, really, but it's a big difference with such a fine line. I mean, I don't really feel old enough to be a 'woman.' I'm not self-supporting, since I rely on my scholarships for everything and I don't have any real job. I don't feel like I have any wisdom of the ages to pass onward (this journal notwithstanding!) and I don't see myself as very worldly either. Yet I'm not a 'girl' precisely, either, since I'm in college and planning out my future. (Well, ostensibly, at least.) Why did this pop into my head, you ask? Not solely to torment you, I promise, it's just that I'm going to turn twenty in three weeks or so.

Twenty!!! The big 2-0!! I've lived 1/5 of my life already!

I'm casting off the benefits of my teen years, the ability to excuse any flaw or fault with the 'I'm still a teenager, I'm adjusting to life, I have plenty of time!' line. That will completely vanish! And what will I have left? Can I still claim 'relative' youth? Can I expect to feel wiser or ready-er for life on that auspicious day? Can I even call myself a 'woman' without having someone laugh at me?

I just don't know. And it bothers me deeply.

Swooning

2006-05-01T18:54:00.000-05:00

Eeeee!!!

So I was looking at other people's livejournals after I posted this morning and someone mentioned a site where they had found this beautiful Yeats poem. (More about that later.) Intrigued, I clicked on the link and was instantly whisked away to this magic land where (I kid you not) every poem that has ever even been thought about exists! Then, as my eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, I noticed that there was also fiction.

Fiction! Free! All!

Whew... It was more than I could take. My mind blew up and I passed out on my keyboard.

When I came to I realized that I had just found the Holy Grail of English Nerds and that I had to tell more people about it. So here you go, the ultimate source of literary lifeblood:

www.bartleby.com

Such an unassuming name for something so wondrous. Sigh.

The Yeats poem that began this unparalleled cycle of events, is below. Accompanied by my gushing comments, per usual.

I'm going to go bask now.

WHEN YOU ARE OLD by W.B. Yeats (1865-1939)

When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

I especially like the second verse. Isn't it wonderful? 'Many loved you for what you appeared to be, but one loved you for who you truly are.' "Pilgrim soul" is just a lovely phrase. Breathtaking.

Web Wandering

2006-05-01T14:22:00.000-05:00

So rather than work on my portfolio last night, I decided to wander the web for interesting things. It's a great hobby, but so time-consuming! I would swear that I'm just browsing for a few minutes when suddenly - BAM! - it's an hour later. Weird. I wonder how this would have affected Einstein's theory of relativity if he had the internet? Maybe just further proof.

In any case, the important fact was this: I found nature poems! Collecting poems, good poems that make my heart do that funny little throbbing ache, is something I have done for years. So I decided to inflict my passion upon you! (Hehehe...) I found two, but I'll save one for later. Anticipation will make it even greater, right?

No Boundaries

Unexpected

2006-05-01T03:33:00.000-05:00

Well, I was working on my fiction portfolio and I somehow wound up writing a poem. I'm not sure exactly how that worked itself out, but I have a sinking suspicion that it most likely violated some governing principle of the universe. Ah well, it's not perfect, but since no one reads this I feel free to post it anyway.

Seven

Whee... I'm Tired...

2006-04-30T03:29:00.000-05:00

Wow! I had so much fun tonight! It was formal for the Honors Society that I'm in and it was a blast! I was having second thoughts about going, but I'm glad I bit the bullet and got prepared and everything. So glad, in fact, that I'm posting still all dressed up! (Minus the heels. Naturally.)

It's even better since I've been in such a end-of-semester, I-have-finals, I-have-to-move, I-can't-take-much-more-Cap'n, type of mood lately and this really shook me out of it! Yay!

Nothing like jiving on the dance floor for a coupla hours to really shake off the blues!

Tea Break

2006-04-25T14:26:00.000-05:00

Argh!!!!!!!

I feel a bit better now, just needed to purge my soul of stress and end-of-tern angst.

This has been such a crazy month (which is why I've been persona non grata... sorry?) with a frickin' ton of hectic running about. It was such a mess that I think I really did lose my head, while it was still attached. We're in the home stretch now, though! Yay!!!!

I only have a couple more papers and a novel to write and then I am done. Yep, I did, in fact, write 'a novel.' (You can double-check if you would like, however.) For my fiction class, I have to expand my latest story into a larger creation, which I'm looking forward to... in an 'oh-my-god-this-is-fun-but-I'm-going-to-die' sort of way. Bad enough that my 'Hansel and Gretal' creation was nixed and I had to write 'Rebecca.' (Though I do love it dearly. It gives me a crazy-happy grin!) Now 'Rebecca' needs a new and improved edition! I guess it's time to break out the tea.

My tea-writing consumption actually has a noticeable trend, I've discovered.

- Beginning: Actually getting into 'Writing Mode' is the absolute hardest part for me. It's like when you're little and you have to go take a bath, you know? Logically, you know that once you're in the bath you'll have a blast with toys and bubbles and whatnot, but you still just don't want to do it. To get over this I have to sort of ease my way into writing, so that I don't really notice what I'm about to do. Otherwise my little writing self goes and hides up the nearest tree and won't come down until I promise to do something useless instead. So I just start out with a couple cups of jasmine tea, which is light and inspiring. It helps me free my mind (and lure my little writing self into the open) and really get into what I'm writing at the moment, carries me away from the 'now' of life. It is so good that it has actually inspired a poem from me just about it. Is that not THE stuff, or what?

- Cruising: Once I'm immersed, writing is like a song and I just have to keep myself going until my energy levels bottom out. I switch to the 'hard stuff,' then, so that I can fill my body with enough caffeine to keep me going... and possibly cause cardiac arrest, I'm not entirely sure on that point. I do drink an awful lot of tea. Irish, English Breakfast, Tazo Passion, all combine in my nervous system. (I wonder if there's a set way I decide on what type? Hm, that's probably over-analyzing, eh?)

- Winding Down: I always feel the need to give myself a little warning that the end is coming. Otherwise I might spontaneously combust, right? So, I switch to herbal teas, particularly Lipton's Mixed Berry Green Tea, which is just perfect with a little honey, and cool off from the mad pace of 'Writing Mode.'

Maybe I should write my next story about the link between tea and writing. Ooo, or a paper! I can see it now, "College student discovers vital link between tea consumption and creativity! Writers rejoice and head to the grocery store." Then I could follow up with a dissertation on why honey is better than sugar. It'd be a new wave in the community!

April Fool's!

2006-04-01T16:51:00.000-06:00

Alright, be on the lookout for my April Fool's joke. It's a doozy! (Hehehe...)

Oddly enough, however, I have a friend whose birthday is today. It is both quite funny and very sucky. For example, when he was born, his parents tried to get his aunt to come to the hospital to see him being born. Guess she really wanted to or something. I don't know. Anyway, she wouldn't come. Flat out refused to go the hospital because she thought it was a joke. They called her up the next day to tell her that she had a nephew and that she had missed the birth. Funny, yes. Sucky? Major yes.

It's an absolutely gorgeous April Fool's! It's 81 degrees, a Saturday, only 6 more weeks of school (Including finals of which, as an english major, I have exactly one. In french.), and med fair is in town! I love that fair... I help them set up every year, toting that barge (uh, plank?) and lifting that bale (of hay. Really, I kid you not. What do you think people sit on at a med fair?), yet I always end up missing the actual event. I know the people and everything you can do there, but I have never been. This year, however, will be different! I am going. Definitely. I will browse through the broadswords, watch the joust, laugh at the human chess game, and buy homemade root beer. This is a plan chiseled in stone.

Now I'm going to go and probably screw it up somehow.

P.S. Bet you're waiting for the April Fool's joke, huh? There wasn't one! April Fool's! Get it? See you were waiting for something and it didn't happen, so it was like a joke. Right? Oh, forget it. You need a better sense of humor.

Oops? :\

2006-03-24T02:22:00.000-06:00

Sorry I've been away for so long, but RL came out of the woodwork and beat me into the ground. So I'll try to summarize!

St. Louis -

Shopping with S was great fun and I am now the proud owner of (total week's shopping): three new skirts, 7 new shirts, a new pair of tennis shoes, and some new shoe strings for my heavy shoes. Yay! Now I can go for more than a week without having to do shirt-laundry. It's definitely the little things.

I tried out a couple new restaurants. Chili's was alright, although their vegetarian selections were rather - sparse. they did have a few, however, which rocks the socks off of most places that I've been to. I also got some authentic St. Louis style pizza - ie Imo's! Yeah, thin crust and green peppers! Totally wonderful. And - my personal and absolute favorite - my parents took me to a Thai restaurant! I adore eastern food, mainly because they are so vegetarian friendly and it's unbelievably wonderful to be able to order nearly anything out of the whole menu. Ah, it was a lovely time. I also tried my first tofu there (if they can't get it right, who can?) and it was really not what I was expecting. It tasted just like the broth that my vegetables had been cooked in, just a different texture than I was used to. Not bad, though, on the whole. I might try a bit of it in my own kitchen - assuming I can get some recipes and helpful hints. I have a feeling I could screw it up pretty badly. Knowing me.

My parents and I began watching 'Firefly,' the series off of which the movie 'Serenity' was made. It is so good! It's sort of like a Western in space, only not as dumb and incredibly funny. My Dad got the boxed set of all the episodes ever made for Christmas, but he's waiting to watch them when I'm home, so that I can enjoy too! (Isn't that the sweetest thing?) I am now really mad at the horrible new head of UPN for taking all of the scifi/fantasy tv shows off of the channel. Just because he doesn't like them! They were popular and raking in the money, particularly the Star Trek crowd (even if I didn't like Enterprise as well as the previous shows), and he just canceled all of them without even letting other stations buy them or syndicate them. Stupid UPN. There's not a single good show on there anymore... not that I have a TV to watch anything with. But it's the principle of the thing, really.

All right, to end here, the plane ride back was unremarkable. No storms, mores the pity. I do want to see that beauty again, it was so indescribable that I'm afraid I will forget it in time. How do you capture a moment and never let it vanish?

More about this week later, I desperately need some sleep!

St. Louis & Mornings :(

2006-03-14T11:28:00.000-06:00

Alright, I still hate mornings. And insomnia. Normally this combination wouldn't be a problem on holiday, because I would use the excuse of one to sleep right through the other, but I promised S I'd be up early and now I feel horrible! And so sleepy... If the day is fun, however, it might just all work out in the end. I hope...

St. Louis & Shopping

2006-03-13T21:00:00.000-06:00

Whew! It was a long, yet fairly stress free, day. I got up very early (I love going to bed at 10pm, yet it so rarely happens... sniff) and then just went Target shopping with my Mum. I did get a couple of skirts, although not the shirts that I was looking for. I have so few shirts that it really isn't funny. Once I stop being able to wear sweaters, I'm only going to have enough shirts for a couple of days! It's a sad plight.

Tomorrow should be fun. S and I are going to spend the whole day running amok, shopping and bowling. I haven't been bowling in so long! My score will be lucky to clear 50. And that's only if I have a lucky streak. It'll be a fun time though!

St.Louis & Storms!

2006-03-13T11:06:00.000-06:00

Yay, I made it to St. Louis in one piece! The storms when I was flying into Lambert were pretty wicked, though. We were so close to a lightning storm, it was amazing! Beautiful, really. Lightning, when it's still in the clouds, is this gorgeous pink-orange-gold color, mostly pink, but softened by the other two. And the clouds! I was surrounded by them, I felt that if I could just reach out the window and touch them, they would feel soft and cottony, even though I know in reality that they are all wet and airy. Still, appearances can often fool even the knowing mind, and I desperately wanted to leap out into them and float along without a care in the world.

But I made it here and got lots of sleep (Yay!), so I should be ready for whatever we end up doing today. I'm thinking shopping! And writing... I still need to turn out that fiction piece. Sigh. So much for a break.

I'm Leaving on the Jet Plane...

2006-03-12T02:55:00.000-06:00

I'm desperately trying to get as much work as possible done before I have to leave tomorrow. So far... not going so well.

That impossible project has turned into The-Project-From-The-Lowest-Depths-Of-Hell (TPFTLDOH, for short... well, shorter.) On the bright side, however, I finally have an idea for my fiction piece. It's kind of lame, but it's the best idea I've had lately. Sadly. See, I'm going to do a (very Gregory Maguire) spin on 'Hansel and Gretal' from the viewpoint of the little old lady who lives in the candy house. She's really just a misunderstood figure. Really.

I was hoping to write it tonight, but with The Project I'll be lucky to get an outline formulated before I need to get some sleep. Pfft. Sleep is so overrated. (Zzzzzz...)

Groan...

2006-03-10T14:25:00.000-06:00

I am SO sore! Racquetball was way fun, but two hours of it...? My muscles now hate me. Violently and with extreme malice. On the bright side, though, I totally beat the heck out of everyone! Woohoo!

I have so much to do in the next two days, it is making me cringe just thinking about it. I'm fairly certain I will survive, however. Especially since K, my lovely apartment buddy, told me that we'll go shopping with her cousin when she comes up! Yay, clothes! Of course that's not until after I get back from St. Louis, but that will be fun too. I'll get to see the people on the other side of the phone for a change!

Well, time to go labor away... and I still need a story idea. Groan.

Racquetball

2006-03-09T16:07:00.000-06:00

Everything for this week is done and now I get to go kick some butt at racquetball! It's such a fun game... and only a little bloodthirsty. Hehehe...

There's only the three of us, so it'll have to be cut-throat racquetball, which always ups the ante. I still think I'll serve a beat-down, though!

Mornings... Ugh

2006-03-09T12:12:00.000-06:00

I loathe mornings with every fiber of my being and breath.

Just thought I'd share that. Not that it should be too big of a surprise.

Whee...

2006-03-09T02:52:00.000-06:00

Well, I have finally completed the last of my work for this week. (Mainly due to a bit of stealthy finagling. I'm fairly certain that I'm still working within the proper limits. Fairly.)

Now I just have to do everything for the week after break in the next three days. Joy.

It's really not so bad, I guess. I'd probably be doing pretty well except for that Fiction class. Need Story Idea. NOW!

Why didn't I just stick to poetry?

Speaking of which, I was so excited about the piece I posted here. It's an idea that I've been playing around with for awhile. It's obviously not fully fleshed out, but it captures the bare essence. It's such a pretty, haunting notion.

I wonder if I could turn that into a story somehow...

Dreams

2006-03-08T16:20:00.000-06:00

To lie on sunlit summer grasses
to gaze upon the wealth of dreams
that lushly hang on slender boughs.

To walk the shadowed sidewalks of November
to crush with every footfall
the faded dreams of trees.

Back Again!

2006-03-08T15:42:00.000-06:00

Well, I did get a little sleep, so I'll take another stab at this. So far today's been fairly hectic, so it's nice to have a few minutes when I'm not running around. Aside from classes I've been trying to convince people to help raise money for Relay for Life and somehow that seems to involve me meeting people just about everywhere on campus. I'm getting really tired. Ah well, only half of a week until spring break. When I get to catch up on all of my work. I thought this was supposed to be fun?!

It doesn't help that I'm suffering from major writer's block. I desperately ned a topic for a short piece for Fiction and it's just not happening! All of my ideas lately have been slightly loopy. I think I'll try to blame it all on sleep deprivation. (I'm not nuts. Really.)

Rambling (II)

2006-02-28T02:54:00.000-06:00

I definitely have to figure out a posting schedule for this thing. Right now it's slightly random in a, "Well, I think I've forgotten to do that for awhile." sort of way. Not exactly reliable. I mean, what if I forget for a month? See, very problematic.

In other news, what is up with phone numbers? I suppose I should clarify a bit. What is up with people expecting me to know MY phone number? Do I ever call myself? NO! So why should I be able to spout it off if .5 seconds, I'd like to know! People give me the weirdest looks when I have to look up my number in my address book. What do they expect?!

I suppose I could call myself more often. Have a friendly chat with my voice mail system. Then I could act all surprised when I check my phone later and see that I have a voice mail. It'd be like sending myself roses on Valentine's Day. You know, pretending that people care or something sad like that.

Makes me wonder why I haven't thought of that before.

At Night

2006-02-24T06:49:00.000-06:00

This is one of those nights when I just finished up the last bit of work and I know I should go to bed. I know that if I stay up, I'll want to sleep in and be lazy, which I can't actually do, unfortunately. I know this. Really, I do.

Which fails to explain why I also know that I won't be sleeping for quite some time yet.

I'm not sure what it is about nights. I'm not all that fond of them, since I love the sunlight so much. (Though not in a tanning sort of way - I can only burn, sadly. Red just really isn't all that attractive, y'know?) Despite this, however, I have the hardest time not staying up all night for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

One would think my love of sleep would help out, but it waits until the morning when I have to get up. Then it kicks into overdrive to make up for it's laxness and reminds me how utterly ridiculous it is to think I can live on two hours of sleep. It goes on to taunt me all day, until dying an abrupt death when I'm faced with the Night Dilemma again.

Traitor.

Rambling

2006-02-19T13:25:00.000-06:00

Argh! Doctors lie, I am still sick. And feeling crummy.

Oh well, on a brighter note, there's snow here! It's very pretty and poetry inspiring so long as I don't actually have to go outside. Of course I had to leave my warm little apartment twice this weekend, but I'm still okay with it... pretty much, anyway. It's just so lovely to look at. The way it settles on the barren arms of leafless trees and softens the landscape with gentle hills of white. See, very inspiring!

Apart from poetry, it also got me to redecorate my room, which has been bugging me for a good while now. So I spent the vast majority of the weekend hammering on the walls. I rather expect to be lynched when I step out of doors next, for performing said activity at 1am this morning. Hey, you can't stop creativity because of some silly little thing like time! (Plus I really need to look at clocks more. Definitely.)

Luke, I Am Your Doctor

2006-02-17T09:38:00.000-06:00

I finally gave in and went to the doctor. After a surprisingly short wait (apparently they put me on something called a 'fast track,' according to K) I saw this very lovely man who told me that my right side showed decreased breathing and that my sinus infection was taking over my body much like the Borg. Well, he might not have phrased it exactly like that, but I translated. It's all cool now, though, I have a ton of shiny new medication that all promises to knock me out like a light and make me better in a week. Whee. Ah well, it'll be nice not to sound like Darth Vader anymore.

Although I will totally miss making K laugh herself silly by saying, "Luke. I am your father."

Ah. It's the little things in life, really.

Untitled

2006-02-14T11:48:00.000-06:00

Beauty and life

enfold me,

hum of the earth

set in my bones.

I know this.

I have felt this before.

When I walk down the street

the sun shines,

smiles down

on frail branches.

I look up.

I know this.

Happy V-Day... Yeah...

2006-02-14T11:35:00.000-06:00

For those who are sick and single Valentine's Day is singularly unimportant. That is all.

I'm slowly on the mend from this dratted cold/flu/thing. NyQuil is amazing, even if it does make me comatose. I really don't remember a lot from these past three days. Except my bed, of course.

To make up for my crabby posts, however, I found a poem that I doodled a couple weeks ago stashed in a corner. With some tweaking, it is almost presentable! So enjoy and I'll try to feel up to an energetic post again soon!

(I'm going to post it on a seperate entry, because this thing hates me. Sniff.)

Illness... Whomps

2006-02-13T23:34:00.000-06:00

I loathe being sick. I feel terrible and I can't eat anything but vegetable broth. And that stuff is really bland. Then, not only do I feel bad, but I also have to suffer with the mental debate: Do I Go To the Doctor or Not?

It's a tough question. Generally, as I am now, I just wait it out with broth and NyQuil, because really is the doctor going to tell me any different? I thought not. Now if it lasts a week... well, I might have to face the dreaded specter then.

Needless to say I'm not feeling very poetic right now. Unless you want an ode to coughdrops.

Poems? Where?

2006-02-12T03:08:00.000-06:00

Ugh, the end of last week was so hectic that posting was lost in the shuffle. Sigh. Well, I'm sober and free of social obligations right now, so rejoice in my return! Or snub me for not being here. Whatever.

I realized (while I was NOT sober, ironically) that I named my humble little corner of the internet after one of my poems, yet I haven't posted any original work since then. A travesty, really. (Hey you, yeah you in the back groaning, "It had all been going so well until now!" The fact that you thought it HAD been going well makes me doubt your tastes anyway. I can't make it worse. So there.) Anyway, I don't know when inspiration will strike, since I'm in a fiction workshop, not poetry, and I tend to become obsessed with what I'm in, but soon my title will actually make some sort of sense! I promise. Maybe.

Valentine Cheer

2006-02-09T03:02:00.000-06:00

This post is dedicated to the funniest (and worst) valentines I've ever read. (Courtesy of my apartment buddy, K, who is single-handedly attempting to rid the world of all romanticism. I believe these are proof enough that she is well on her way to succeeding.)

Valentine #1:
Front: Valentine's Day is for the weak.
Inside: Be cool. Be alone.
(Accompanied by a touching picture of a broken, bleeding heart.)

Valentine #2:
Front: Happy Valentine's Day! By the way...
Inside: Valentine's Day was originally a day of remembrance for the St. Valentine's Massacre where many people were butchered and killed.

She's a regular sap, that one.

Workshops

2006-02-07T13:36:00.000-06:00

I love workshops, I really do. They force me to break out of my 'I'll finish that story...later' mode and into creative overdrive. It is an unfortunate fact, however, that I generally don't get any inspirational ideas until, at most, two days before I'm supposed to have something concrete. K has learned, over time, that it is wise to just lay low and not give in to my frantic requests to just 'bounce something off of her' every 2.5 minutes. Hmmm, actually that probably explains why she's been hiding at the lab for the past two days... she must know I have writing to do!

Poems are so much easier for my psyche to deal with. Much gentler on my nervous system. When I want to write poetry I just curl up with a notebook and a cup of tea & honey and life is nice. When I have to have a fiction piece of at least eight pages, my mind blows up. I'm supposed to sustain one idea for eight pages?! I can't even sustain one stream of thought for more than eight minutes. It's just not pretty.

Why do I mention this now? I'm currently on page two of Curtains. Let's see: I have thirteen hours, seven pages, and hot water brewing for tea... I might make it, after all!

Procrastination

2006-02-06T13:55:00.000-06:00

Why do I procrastinate? I swear, it's like an illness.

Symptoms: desire to sleep for longer periods of time as a deadline approaches, creative approaches to discovering new distractions, stomach turning nausea when I begin to work on said project

Diagnosis: chronic procrastinating

Cure: Hmmm. Well, after the deadline is passed, I'm fine until the next one. But that's just 'treating the symptoms.' Maybe I should become a bum. (I often have horrible premonitions of myself on the sidewalk with a tin can, anyway. I'll just be proactive in creating my eventual future.)

Alright, maybe a little excessive, but sometimes I wonder how I manage to let my mind get away with it's evil tricks. I freak if the apartment isn't clean enough, dirty dishes make me twitch, but my mind somehow accepts 'Oh well, I have plenty of time to whip that up. Let's do this instead!'

It's a sad situation.

On the bright side, it is the sole motivating force behind this blog!

The Big Question

2006-02-05T23:55:00.000-06:00

On the off chance that I ever tell my apartment buddy that I now have a blog (live journal, whatever) I probably need to redeem myself for criticizing her in the last post. Not that she isn't a complete loser for leaving me to fend off the Underwear Banditos by myself, but she does have several redeeming qualities. Plus she knows where I sleep and has access to incredibly sharp cutlery. I admit that I'm threatened.

Threats aside, however, I do absolutely love her because she is one of the few people I know who will stand with me on the far side of the Great Baby Divide. (For those of you going 'eh?' at this moment... all shall be revealed in time.)

I'll never forget when I first met K (Actual nickname... I protect no one here. Hey, I'm not gonna burn alone.), it was the most awkward moment of my life. Well, one of the most at least. I don't exactly have stellar luck with these sorts of things. Anyway, we stood there making that strained 'I'm just getting to know you and therefore must sound completely involved in whatever you say' conversation when it suddenly came out of nowhere. The Baby Question. I don't know who asked it or mentioned it or whatnot, but there it was, the question that has garnered me more looks of incredulity than any political or moral question ever could. And I had to share my answer with this friendly, pretty Texan who looked like she could be a model for the Typical American. (You know the type who is slender and pretty, popular in high school, and is shortly going to marry and have 2.5 children? That type.) Still, I gathered my resolve and decided not to begin our cohabitation with lies as I admitted that I do not want children. Ever.

In a moment forever burned in my memory, she looked up with joyous relief on her face and responded, "Thank God! I don't either!"

At that moment she could have been a voodoo practicing, axe-murderess and I would still have nominated her for my favorite person on the face of the planet.

To understand the utter joy of finding someone who does not want children you have to understand that my father, for some reason, decided to retire from the military in a small southern Illinois town. Not only did everyone in my high school want to have lots of tiny progeny, by the time we graduated many of them already DID.

It doesn't take a great stretch of reasoning to determine that someone staunchly against hearing the pitter-patter of little feet was not exactly welcomed with open arms. In fact, I have become a master at avoiding that question because my answer, for some reason, makes people think that I'm going to begin eating children or something. Why?! I don't have anything against munchkins. I was one once. It was fun. I like entertaining children for an afternoon, I've volunteered at children's after-school programs, for cripes sakes! I'm not a monster, I simply enjoy sending the short ones home with their parents so that I can go back to my house and relax in blissful silence.

Nevertheless, admitting that you have no intention to reproduce in your lifetime seems tantamount to blasphemy most of the time. I've even tried to sugar-coat it, saying that I'm trying to give the new generation a chance with fewer members to grab the really great jobs or that I'm trying to curb the massive population growth of the earth. For those of you considering using these techniques, let me clue you in. It doesn't work. People see right through these nice little smoke screens and begin slowly creeping away as though you're going to go on a killing spree at any moment. It doesn't even stop with strangers! When I confided my (apparently) sordid secret to my mother (my own mother!), she looked me straight in the eye and said, "There's something wrong with people who don't like children."

Anyway, this is why I can tolerate being sent alone to wage war at the laundromat. Because I know, when I really need her, when I'm up against the wall at some social little get together with a glass of something in my hand and cold sweat breaking out upon my brow, as I lean back on the sofa and try to gracefully segue out of the conversation, I will hear the click of stylish heels behind me and K will appear with the life-saving claim upon her lips, "Oh, I don't think I want children, either."

And then she really will be my hero.

Laundry Woes...

2006-02-04T17:00:00.000-06:00

I survived! I'm sure you know that feeling, where you have to enter again upon the scene where something horribly tragic and/or completely humiliating happened to you and you're just not quite sure if you are completely emotionally ready for the experience? Exactly.

This then was my dilemma today, the day that I had been dreading for almost two weeks. (Yeah, it seems a lot shorter to me too, in retrospect.) Laundry Day. Duh-duh-duh... This is not quite as lame as it sounds, I promise. About two weeks ago (coincidentally) I had what I like to refer to as "The Great Underwear Disaster of '06." (I'm hoping that, if I add in the '06, it won't happen to me for at least another year. Cause then what would I call it? The SECOND Great Underwear Disaster of '06? It'd be the same sort of crises that struck Windows in 2000 when they had to leave off naming things 'Windows 97,' or whatever year they were on, and jump to 'Windows XP.' I mean, really, what does that even mean? They clearly panicked and used that in the heat of the moment. But I digress.)

Anyway, the '06 GUD (catchy, huh?) began, like many things, with a highly annoying person. See, apparently, this woman, let's call her Sue, decided that she absolutely had to do the laundry for her entire family of extended relations in one day, this being the only reason I can think of for Sue to have enough laundry to fill up every washer at the tiny place I frequent, which happens to be the only one within walking distance. For those of us without a car, that detail is essential. I arrived as the last quarter clinked into the washer and my fate was sealed. I had only left enough time before dark to do my laundry and waiting a half-hour would result in my having to race back for my laundry IN the dark. I don't exactly live in a neighborhood one could term as 'friendly,' or 'healthy,' or even 'safe,' in fact I think the people who live here are those whom the neighborhood watch is supposed to look out for. So, clearly, mucking about after dark was really not the key to a long and happy future.

No prob, I figured, no reason to get all exasperated over one minor setback, I'll just lug my laundry back home and do it during the week. This, apparently, is a cardinal sin in the laundry world. From talking to people after the '06 GUD incident, I have learned that the only people who do their laundry at this place during the week are the real weirdos among us and that I should never have considered it in the first place. To which I typically respond, "Why the hell didn't you tell me this before I did it?!"

See, I went down on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday afternoon and chucked my clothes in the washer, ignoring the other random guy doing the same thing several washers down the line, and then quickly left. I know, I know, you're supposed to wait with your clothing and I have done that at every other laundry place, but not this one. You'd have to be suicidal to wait. They don't even bother to have chairs or a folding table or any of the usual amenities because they know the place screams 'ditch your clothes and run before you're shot.' I came back in about a half-hour, pretty nonchalantly, I'd been at this for months and nothing had gone wrong, so I began throwing things in the dryer before suddenly realizing, as I tossed in a dryer sheet, that I hadn't noticed any underwear when I'd been transferring clothes. Thinking maybe they'd just been tangled in other clothes I sifted through and found only one pair.

One pair out of two or three weeks worth of underwear.

I gave a nervous chuckle and got out of there as though devils were breathing fire on my heels. When I crept back in an hour later to collect my dry clothes, I was a wiser, sadder individual. (Especially since my apartment buddy about freaked out when I confided the tale and decided that she was never going there again if the creepy people were going to wander through her lingerie as well. My hero.)

As for me, I prefer to believe that some poor woman desperately needed underwear and grabbed her only chance to collect some and relieve the burden upon her oppressed household. I mean otherwise who would steal dirty underwear out of a washer when they're still all wet and stuff?

On second thought, don't answer that. The only way I'm going to ever have clean clothes again is to stick to my story of the poor woman lacking underwear... combined with covert Saturday morning sneak attacks on the laundromat.