Today I turned down an interview to be a shift manager. I had been planning to go to it all weekend, but just didn't have peace about it. In the end, I think it would be just too much with going to school full time, and being in a band that is like another part time job. Jason, I think, talked me out of it the most last night when he said something to the effect of "Shit girl, when are you going to have time to breathe?"

The truth is, I don't even know what to do on my days off any more. I live at Starbucks. I sleep there. I will probably get married at Starbucks and raise children there.
Oh dear. I am delirious.

20 days left before I have to go back to school. DANG.

It's been quite a few days of having this blood blister under my fingernail. My thumbnail. Slammed it in a register. Nails take a long time to grow. It's been 18 days and it has only floated a twelfth of an inch higher.

Things take a long time to change.

Like bad habits. 21 days or something to quit a bad habit? 21 days of that empty feeling in your gut of living without that habit.
But how many days will it take for me to look at your face and convince myself that I'm not in love with you? The muscles in my heart snapping and ripping and my stomach clenched up, my appetite gone. The bruise; the hematoma that will form in my chest, and the high-necked shirts I will wear to cover it up. How many days of that?
I'm not going to pretend that
I'm going to give in to that yet.
The bruise.
The shaking.

I don't know what to say. It's too hot to think, or to even tell the truth all the time. It's like why bother getting involved in anything this week when it is just so much effort and you could blow up fireworks in the drive-thru in your hometown anyways.

Maybe when school starts and it gets cold I won't think so much and so hard.
I'll go running.
I won't cut my hair.
All the people will keep holding hands, and they won't remember about real love and how it finds you under the blacklight. They won't remember about how it happens in between cigarettes and iPhones and the endless winter you thought you'd forgotten about.

Rich shots of espresso.

We'll get back to the way things worked.

Kayleigh-isms

"Dude, Rachel, are you so excited for this moment of tonight?"


"We will continue this in the next text. But leave right now to come to the D.I. We are almost everywhere."


"You are too dope to be the pope.. sorry it's the only thing that rhymed."

kind of funny

"Keaton told them to maybe stop doing heroine, and they wanted to fight us. So we left." -Ashlie
"Well I couldn't have fit in that spot anyways." -Keaton

"Do you realize the fun level of THIS!" -Nick, on Raging Waters 2008, or RA08 as he coined it. Which as usual makes no sense because it would've been RW08.

"Jeff - well I know he's my brother - but he's just not living up to the expectation lately."
-Jason

I'm not writing very coherently lately, and sometimes I wish I could go back to a place where my writing had good flow and was clear and had clear voice.

I'm taking iron nowadays but the bruises haven't stopped. I'm like an apple falling around the produce section with so many bruises by now that nobody wants to buy me because they know that I'm just squishy.

They have this thing in Utah called Pioneer day to celebrate people trekking it to Utah to colonize. I like it because it's another excuse to light off fireworks and have another BBQ and your friends drink beer and tell good stories.
Celisse and I had breakfast at IHOP and this guy threw over pans of dishes and smacked his fist on our exact table walking out. I was thinking it was probably a disgruntled employee. Celisse thought he'd come back with a gun. (It is the west side after all) And I was picturing us on national news. All our friends would know we died at IHOP and they'd have some bad picture of us and Bryan would know Celisse didn't stop in to say hi to him even though IHOP is in his Walmart's parking lot and he would hold a grudge with her about it to the grave.
But we made it through breakfast and took her shiatsus for a walk. Is that how you spell shitzu? Bless you.
I worked with Jessie and Jason towards the end of Sammy's shift. I think she smokes in the bathroom but I haven't collected enough evidence yet to confront her about it. I actually don't care that much. She should be able to smoke in the bathroom if she really wants to. It's the small things in life.

So then we had the barbeque and all sat on Nick's patio just laughing and enjoying life, and it's one of those things I wish I could freeze and just never change. I want us to always be able to do that and I don't really care if we never grew up and had kids and got real jobs with 401k's. I just want to be able to smoke on the back porch of Nick's duplex and plan adventures to Mexico til the end.
Is it too much to ask?

And this love isn't good enough for sorrow or inspiration...

I could start at the beginning.
Yesterday I was working at Caitlin's Starbucks because they were short and I needed the hours. It was good, they actually let me bar and this guy who looked like Jack from LOST was running the drive through. It was a little unnerving, because everytime he said something like, "We need to rebrew coffee" I just took him so serious because you just do everything Jack says. He's our leader.
Anyway, he was Presbyterian and when no one else was around we were sort of talking about it, and I told him we'd moved here to start the Rock and he's like, "Oh, so you're a Christian, do you mind if I ask you what you believe gets you into Heaven?" And I freaked out cuz a customer walked in the door and so I just leaned over and whispered, "I am saved by grace." And his face turned into the sunlight. "AMEN! SISTER. If there was anything you could have said!" And he gave me a high five and that was that. We didn't say anything else about it and I left at the end of my shift.
Also I saw Lisa (a nurse I used to work with from the hospital). And it really just bought back a flood of memories and raw emotion that I'd forgotten I'd had. I started asking her all these questions. I want to go back and see John and Joe and Alex. A part of my heart belongs at that hospital and I left it there, and it's really hard to know what to do about that.

So I worked at Caitlin's store and then went to meet Celisse at her house now that she's home but there was a huge storm out there and I kept getting lost cuz it's the freakin' west side. Ha ha ha. We were kind of both pissed off for different reasons while we ate Chinese food together. I think that's why we're such good friends. Cuz we can hang out pissed off and be totally fine with it.
Then Jessi calls and tells me that Shonna's best friend Maren died, which is heartbreaking. She is just only a little bit older than me, and Shonna's always talking about her, and which college she was going to, and being diebetic. I felt like I knew the girl, and it's just one more reminder that life is short, and you never know when it's going to be. Never.

So I closed the store because they needed help, and then opened this morning which was creepy but endurable. And I realize that I would just pick to work all the time, and is that healthy, and what does it say about me.
There is so much more that is going on right now, but I'm just going to call it a night and eat some spaghetti.

It's an escapade in a different language. Juggling knives drunk under the deceitful smell of Dolce and Gabbana. Don't act like you don't remember.
Lighting matches and lighting up the room
and listening close to what you don't say during the silence on the patio in the middle of the day.
I loved you always but I never want to see you
in all my bad dreams.
With head a c h e s.
I want you to believe the frozen state and that I don't change. Don't come after me and think I'll change. Don't count on me not to hurt your feelings when the windows are shut.
I
can't
always
do
it.
But I'll be sorry everyday. I'll be the mistress and I'll be glory when everything is over.
The cupcake in it's wrapper.
The newspaper on the front door.
Damn, I'll-be-yes-reliable. What I would give if you
would just know my passwords and what I'm going to say next.

Originally uploaded by maneeacc

This is how I feel right now. And I want to sleep for a couple days. And I don't want to answer the phone anymore. Just want to wear a headband and smoke cigarettes at night time.

how I think I'm doing
at house sitting:
like, 6 out of 10.

The dogs are miserable. They are way stressed from not having anyone home that actually loves them. They make me miserable. (Don't get me wrong, I love dogs. One at a time) But other than that, I like having the place to myself. It makes me want to move out.

Randal is out of town, so at the last minute yesterday, we had Bryan come to our practice and he's playing drums for us, which is pretty much awesome. We played Provo tonight, and I thought it went really well, and we're playing again tomorrow. (Darling) Hannah (from work, cuz she always says Darling, and I have a lot of Hannahs these days) and I are getting sushi tomorrow, and I'm just plain tired tonight.
No new bruises.

I like closing sometimes because I get to sleep in and go to the gym and I feel like I really didn't have to work very much cuz I'm not tired.

Today we found out that my cat was boarded up under the house. She'd crawled under the house and my dad was painting and sealed up a hole that had been there for a while, and apparently she didn't realize he was doing that. It was funny. We let her out and she was fine.

Anyway. I closed with Shonna, and she's great. Jason came and visited us and ended up staying for 4 hours, which is a bonus. Kelsea came in and hung out too.

Pretty much my life is great and I have nothing to complain about except allergies.
And sometimes I think about packing up and moving to Seattle. But I have a lot of years to try that, probably.

And, Lisa, I forgot to tell you that I love you.
And Lisa, I forgot to tell you I love you more than Rachel does, or anyone else. I love you more than your family probably. Your husband and kids.
That's not that hard, my family doesn't love me that much.
What? your daughter Melissa loves you!
Yeah, but she's annoying.

Time Out

Okay. I got my shifts covered today and tomorrow so I'm settling down a little bit. Getting enough sleep that I'm not a cranky robot, and I've just been playing so much Mob Wars on Facebook that my brain is probably melting.
Yes, I admit, I did wake up at 2 am and 3:30 am to do a couple quick jobs to earn some money really quick and went back to sleep. But I was able to buy an Armored Range Rover today, so it was all worth it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, get addicted.
ADD ME TO YOUR MOB! :)

Um. Yeah. Been playing a lot of basketball, going to the gym, and my hair is growing. I'm pretty happy.

Oh yes. Today I also went to lunch with my old coworker from Chase (Kristie). We had enchiladas and talked about the downfall of that Chase branch. I said hi to everyone there, but my old boss George didn't even smile at me. It's sort of sad. But people make their own hell sometimes. Tanya came out to lunch with us. (Russian Tanya. My former ABM) She's working at Key now. We're both happier.

And this is the end for now.

It's a good thing to have underwear.

Kayleigh and I hit the wall at about 10 today. Somewhere in between her putting a straw in my mouth while I was talking to customers and her screaming "baller" at the top of her lungs...I realized she'd lost her mind. She dared me to down an energy packet, and of course I said of course, but only if I could chase it with a shot, and pretty soon every partner in the store had an energy packet and a shot, ready to go, and one of our customers took a picture. We all went at the same time and Kayleigh snorted the energy packet and the espresso shot right back out her nose. In front of a Middle-Eastern woman who was waiting at the register.
Only Middle Eastern people and very rich business people buy cappuccinos anymore. I don't know why.
Kayleigh probably still has vitamin B and Ginseng up her nose. I don't ask questions.

But this is my life now. I stay too many hours, and I come home and don't go to bed, like I think something special will happen if I stay awake. Sleep is a thing of the past. I am gradually dying, but I'm the happiest person I can remember being, these last three years.

safe from all the horrors of your stinging velvet arms

Today is my first day off. I work 9 more days in a row. I don't think they realize all the overtime I've been getting, or they'd give me more time off. 49 hours last week. At least I made good tips...and I haven't had time to think, again.

So today I slept in til 9:30, watched some (guilty pleasure) Grey's Anatomy, and went to the gym for a decent workout. My family is gone to the farm except my dad, so we've been chilling and having fun. Eating Chinese food and enjoying the peace. Its weird. I clean the bathroom and I smile because I realize no one will come in and mess it up. It's a beautiful thing.

Some of the beautiful things about being alone, number one being:
-clean bathroom, then
-not sharing money
-my schedule doesn't depend on anyone else

I don't like being alone. I'm just saying that I'm enjoying these things while they last. Enjoying independence.

I'm living my life in a series of alarm clocks. 4:15 am. 5 am. 7:30am. 5:17 am.
My phone goes off and then the actual alarm clock across the room.
Wash my eyes with warm water/contacts/pull on my stockings clear up to my knees. Headband, polo shirt, eggs and toast.
Two shots of espresso over whipped cream and caramel sauce...

Press repeat and shake in a couple band practices and naps and more alarms so that I'm not late for stuff. Venti size that. Sugar free. Every morning since I came back from Heaven.

I'm not complaining. I stay out of trouble and I like playing music. So much good has come out of changing jobs that its not even funny. But my boss even told me yesterday (or the day before? they're all the same) that she thought I was a workaholic.
"Yeah..."I said, laughing.
"Well I'm not complaining," she said, also laughing.
Free drinks for everybody. Gotta pay back the man for all the fun I've had. And miles to go before I sleep.
Miles to go before I sleep.

In California, does it all start, or does it all end?

I guess that depends on if you are from Germany or Russia or Mexico or Spain.
I'm from the Midwest, respectively. I guess.

I had a great time with Celisse. We ate too much, talked a lot or not at all. Cooked, ran, moved mattresses in Elevators that were much too small. Parked a U-Haul in a handicapped spot... swam on the roof of a hotel, ate ribs, drank champagne, dined with rich people, and I got free pants.



It's back to business.

Initially, my biggest excitement about going to college was that you could go to the bathroom whenever you want. I told this to Jace who was graduated when I was going into Senior year of highschool. He agreed with me, and also appreciated how good Mac n' Cheese was. He had a job where he could eat as many Nabisco Oreos as he wanted. He worked from 3 am on and got off early during the day. I ended up in a similar position to Jace. I got to eat as many Oreos as I wanted, and I worked from 11pm to 7am. We both got tired of Oreos, but he went on a Mission to who-knows-where for the LDS church and I started working for the bank instead of the hospital.
Nowadays I encourage my brother that in college you get to go to the bathroom whenever you want, and you also can get V8 out of the vending machines. It's a good deal, I guess.

I conditioned my hair for the first time today since January. Swimming a lot made it fried, sort of. So I had to.

Okay. So in conclusion, today I decided that its okay to give up sometimes. AS IN, its okay to not take your bass home, thinking you'll practice. It's okay that you know deep down that you won't practice. Its okay to admit to Alex, when he writes home, that you haven't been very faithful with your scales. And, it's okay to wear the same socks two days in a row.
And its okay to eat potato chips.
And its alright to admit you have an addiction to Starbucks. There are many like you.

A lot of people were looking at Tegan and Sara and wanting to kiss them, or just really really enjoying their music.
And I was too, but mostly, I just want to be them. Well, Tegan specifically cuz I like her haircut better. But the glamour just gets to me. I WANT IT. I want the tattoos and the hair, and playing amazing music and traveling the country, and being from Canada, and looking cold and wearing jackets. I want it all.
I feel 16 again.


I need the revolution medicine.

It's just like....
be who you are. Stop locking me out already.

Whatever. I'm not 17 anymore.

What I'm doing these days:
1) Working a lot. I'm working both jobs shamelessly. Sort of shamelessly. It's like I am unfireable from Chase. I took a $9000 loss the last week I worked. And they still haven't given me the boot. I think George is in denial that I quit over a month ago, because they haven't even interviewed for my position yet. OH WELL! Not my problem.

2) Loving Starbucks? And this is the part where I admit that I am going through my workaholic phase that I do every year to get over, or get under, or go through some kind of trial. Throw all that angry-sad-crazy energy into a job. Pay the bills. Fall in lerve with coworkers named Kayleigh that scream a lot and sing and dance and throw espresso shots on top of caramel macchiatos. Lerve. Not love. Not homosexual...

3) Taking tums: to coat over that hole in my throat from being sick. Being sick is/was gross.

4) Trying not to think about what love is. Or butterflies...or...crap. I'm thinking about it.

5) Eating ramen noodles with Siracha sauce, dreaming about Celisse coming back into my life for the weekend. (Tegan and Sara show, H-yeah) Getting up in the morning. Pretending I feel good every day. Meeting God when and where I can (Could you come down and chat with me God, all I know is Grey's Anatomy 2nd Season and dress codes and matches lighting cigarettes that I don't smoke all the way down.. Have I even smoked in over a week?)

6) I know, number six. But I forgot that all I do is play music over and over. In Tooele even. WHAT IS THAT! Tooele is on the other side of the freakin' Salt Lake. And Rain. And bass, and pics in my cupholders.

7) remember when you were with us? You hung out? And you weren't pregnant? You dyed your hair brown and we were in the mountains, and we were still little girls?

8) Okay. I'm done now, saying.

I think Jesus has tattoos.
Or my image of him has tattoos. Right now it does. I think my image of Jesus changes from time to time to match the kind of person I'm most comfortable with.
Eventually Jesus won't have tattoos anymore, is maybe what I'm saying.
Jesus is a doctor, but one who's not in it for the money. And one who's not tired.

I'm sick. I don't get sick very often, and when I do it's pretty awful. I've only been sick twice since I was 15. I feel like I'm being punished, but maybe God is just trying to teach me compassion again, because I forgot about it.

I want to go home. Wherever home is.

If I ever learn how to commit, then maybe it's time for me to get a tattoo.
That's what I've noticed, anyway.
The people I know that have tattoos got some sorta commitment going on.
Yeah.

Small blessings from God, on a Friday:
-not seeing Oliver
-Flight of the Conchords
-Gold Oreos
-night running with Jack
-the end of a very long headache
-texts with Alison and Celisse
-Venus razors
-White peony tea from Surfas

the end.

This is the part where the drums come in.

I get these regrets about where I am, and then I get past them. But still.
I worry constantly...
maybe because I have nothing else to think about? Everything seems like a lot of work and I just think too much.

And this is the part that I wish I'd move away and never come back.
No expectations. No standards. No pictures on the wall.
A human eraser.

I've been spending way too much time in nostalgia lately.

It started when I put in an Ani DiFranco CD and went back to Senior year, alone with so many people in that horrible aerobics room, in the morning. The floor smelt like it was burning. Running alone. The sad looks from Babbo that I still recognize on other peoples faces, here and there, in passing, at 2 in the morning or in my sleep at night.
Those songs from Ani were weighing my heart heavier by 5 or 6 pounds, and then that was that, for a couple days.

And then driving through Kearns today with Celisse I remembered Brian O'Rourke's water polo game that we came "way" out to. Junior year. Flashbacks of me and Kelsea and Brian. Or Jordan. Or Linnea.
It makes me homesick for a place that doesn't exist.

The hard part, after losing those friends, is to remember to treasure the people you are with. Trying to hold them down in your arms and whispering, "Please don't go...please don't go." To love them enough that they won't leave you.
Can you stop the fallout?

Part B of Today, because my hair is coloring

My allergies are killing me.
Celisse is in town for her friend's wedding, and I've been watching her put together the cake. I don't know what I'll do when I won't be able to see her all the time. My seams will come undone.

And.
What about getting old? The skin that's holding me together right now is going to get old some day, and where am I even going to be, then? WHERE.
This man came into the bank today, and I thought he was drunk for a while, because he was having a really hard time forming words and thinking straight. He But after a minute I was starting to tell that he was deeply sad, and it sort of killed me. He wasn't old or young, he was just a man.
"Some people are just good," he started saying to me. "They shouldn't have to go."
"Did you lose someone?" I asked him.
"Yes.."
"I'm sorry," I told him. And I meant it. His eyes were red, and I don't know if I've ever seen someone that heartbroken in a really long time. To see in his face that life was just hard. That words were hard to choke out. That writing down letters on a paper was hard. That getting from here to there was just...hard. I started crying as he walked out the door, and I didn't even know what had happened to him. Didn't know who she was, or how she belonged to him.

And--
I still don't know where ANY of this is going. The only thing I seem to know these days is that nothing is consistent, and that everything I take root in is washed away. But I guess that is God for you. I guess it's called starting over, and that's what I said I wanted, didn't I.

A) I wish my hair was longer
b) I wish it was warmer outside
C) why do naps sound sooo good these days?
d) I wish I had a teleporter. Just saying.



"I have to go to the bathroom--just real quick--would you like a banana, orange, tomato, apple or a cookie?" -Celisse

I'll dig a tunnel from my window to yours

Sometimes today just automatically feels better than yesterday even though nothing has changed. At all.
Well...roughly 155,000 people have died, and that many have been born (or more), the world really hasn't changed that much. The mass is the same. But then I've got a cup of coffee in my hands, and everything is so much better. The windows are open, work is over, and 6 billion people are dealing with their problems, but maybe I am one of the 1 billion people that is just waking up again and living a normal life, because I don't have that much to lose. I mean, anything could get worse, but I don't have a husband or kids to lose.
That's kind of morbid. I was just thinking, when this lady came into the bank and told me her son died, that by having nothing, I also can't get that heartbroken. I'm sorry, Lady.

I feel good, I'm kind of trying to say. The windows are down, I was trying to say.
And I sort of quit smoking (I've never been a smoker). But on Tuesday I gave Tony all the cigarettes that I compulsively buy. But I smoked a Primetime with Malinda before class. But that doesn't count.

Mostly, everyday, I just feel bad for George. I get more and more attached to him, and feel so bad at what a terrible mess I'm leaving him. And Tanya will leave. And Kristie will leave.
Daaaaang.
I pray for him.

Okay, I haven't left yet.
Some sketch thoughts.

-I feel really really bad for George (my manager). I don't know if I've had so much compassion for a person deep inside me in a long time. We are all leaving him and I don't know what else to do but stay extra hours when I can.

-two people have recently started talking to me again (as opposed to the silent treatment I've gotten) Tanya (took two days), and Nick, who has been mad at me for a few months.
I don't like when people are mad at me.

-the weather isn't helping anyone's life get better. snow? what?

Okay so. I gave my boss notice that I was leaving on Saturday. George was totally bummed. But I did give him three weeks notice. Although, I probably should have put more time into thinking all of this out (because of the mess that it has been, and the late nights of staring at the ceiling), I went to a job fair at Starbucks, that day, after work. I interviewed less than 3 hours after quitting the bank. I come back to the bank Monday (Yep, I worked 6 days in a row and only got 1 day off) and everyone except Dax and Kristie are shunning me. The district manager is the devil, trying to whisper in my ear and get me to stay, indirectly making judgments on my character and making it sound like the right thing to do to stay in the hellhole that the branch is.
Ahh. But after two days of being "shunned" I gladly accept the job at Starbucks.
I'M GETTING OUT!!
Anyways. I've had quite a couple sleepless nights.
But I am going to California to hang out with a wonderful girl and eat sushi and see the ocean.
Bon Voyage.

"So, anything interesting happen?"
"Well, JeNae has eaten a dog."
"What?!"
"Not a whole dog."

It's almost the end.



I think?

This is the aforementioned seawood soup with noodles. I eat it, like, every other day or something.

What do I have to say or what am I saying.

I am excited about seawood soup, clean laundry, "bed-in-a-bag", sleeping in (almost too much), perfume, already planned Father's day gifts, long lost cameras and photos (what is new for me, losing a camera and getting it back?), going to see Celisse, less than three weeks left of school, having homework squared away for once, good friends, and food food food!

Not stoked on: skin that hurts around your fingernails, boys who ask me out, grades, waiting a hundred years for payday, and not having time to read a book.

Mostly my quest in life is just to find a shampoo to rely on.

Había una vez

I'm never really sure what's going on, and I'm just trying to handle it all in the best way I know how.
Tonight, I'm a little deaf from band practice (work + school + band practice = thursday, long and tiring) and a little sad, a little victorious, and a little separate from the reality that I'm sure every one else is dealing with while falling asleep.

One of my friends told me today that he was getting a divorce, which makes me sad. I am probably one of the most optimistic people I know about relationships. I always think that they'll work themselves out, because that is how my life has gone? There haven't been any storms that I haven't survived after months of good music and eating vegetables... what is cold is forgivable. I've never been in a long-term relationship myself, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. I want so badly to believe that there is truth and love is real...

Anyways. I've been eating Asian food for a few days now, and I just feel good in general, besides being deaf tonight.
GOD DO YOU HEAR THAT? I'm alright. Stressed a little, because the job situation is never really good. But oh well. Rice noodles with seawood soup can solve crimes? And running to the New Pornographers is good for the soul? Go figure.

A list. In a little while I'm sure that my thoughts will be more collected.
But right now I've just got a lot of fragments that I chew on while I'm staring out the windows of my truck waiting for the light to turn green.

-Noah cooked a bar of soap in the microwave yesterday
-I went to the Asian supermarket today. Whoa.
-short shift at work
-Project Runway Season 1
-drank so much pop and also had an Americano last night, and somehow I fell asleep?
-the sky is the same color as the road right now. Yuck.

Sustaining

Nothing very new going on.
Today is my eighth day of running. It feels really good. Grandparents have been in town but they are leaving tomorrow. This is my last night on the couch, but I will miss them. It'd be nice if they just bought a farm out here. I wish I could have all the people I love in one spot. My grandparents, Jenni and Megan, Jake, Celisse. And if the ocean could be closer.

Easter this year was better than 2007. I was thinking about where I was this time last year. Last Easter Sunday, I was watching everyone rush into one of my patients rooms to try to resuscitate a dying man. Nothing that dramatic happens to me at work anymore. I miss it a little bit, just because I have a distance from it. I miss Alex Thompson too.
My friendships are quite different than they were a year ago. They've gotten so much stranger, but better. More like the spot that I should be in. This, too feels good.
But I'm still just never sure what is supposed to happen next.
I'm okay with enjoying what is now but the future is so very unplanned that all the work I've done the past 4 semesters seems like it just has an ellipses on it. Like its just going to trail off and get forgotten.
I just don't know what to expect.

But whatev!

I'm still driving your way, and I'm sorry everyday

Which is worse:
a) not knowing what you want out of life
b) knowing exactly what you want, and having it directly out of reach..

And life goes on.

I'm trying to simplify this week. (Isn't that an everlasting process...trying to simplify) I've taken two nights off of my regular routine to just do chores and go running. I hung pictures in my room last night. Sat down and worked on tattoo sketches for Kaylene, and watched Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Today my grandparents got here, and so I'm just hanging out with them, enjoying their company. I also got lunch with Ashlie and Corey, which was awesome.
I some times try out different lives every week. I think this is a good thing.

I won't always want what I'll never have, I won't always live in my regret.
-Jimmy Eat World

in the backseat

Its just one of those weekends that worked really hard on my heart and is really hard to put into words. I have come back to SLC in the overwhelming reality that I am part of an amazing family that stretches so far and is so loving. The reality that God is the only thing I can ever fall back on. The reality that Burger's King everyday will wreck your life.
Prayer, worship, prayer, and driving a lot.

Here's to Jesus.
To sleeping on deflated air mattresses.
To stopping on your friend's myspace page to listen to their whole profile song.
To green tea or gelato.
To hallelujah.
To kick drums.
To looking into someone's eyes and knowing they only sparkle because you love them.

i killed my dinner with karate.

Happy Sunday for the first time in at least three weeks that I can think of.. it's the happy sort of waking up at ten 'o clock (would have been nine o clock yesterday? I don't get this whole daylight thing) and felt content like you do when you've seen someone lovely the night before and he visits you somehow in your dreams like a good friend. Content like when you're having peaceful flashbacks.
I watched a movie by myself and then went for a long run/walk and ended up swinging on the swings at a park.
abridged soundtrack
open book - cake
if you don't, don't - jimmy eat world
the book of right on - Joanna Newsom
reptilia - the strokes

It felt good like breathing. It felt like watching Philip saw his cast off his arm in Midway, Utah in a posh resort. It felt like being able to speak spanish. Watching a dog catch a frisbee in the air. Like knowing.
After I shot some hoops with someone's leftover basketball, I walked home and I realized I just felt good because I knew some stuff, in the midst of all this uncertainty.
1) I know God is real. And I grasp that. I grasp that foundation.
2) I'm going to take a class with Alison again, and even if that's all I take for the rest of my college life, that will be good. Art. Good.
3) Vampire Weekend is a great CD.

And that's all I need to know for a little while. And maybe that I could have some pull-aparts from the Pie soon. That would be fantastic.

life after midterms

People are always trying to tell you not to worry about stuff. About how it doesn't add a day to your life (oh that's the Bible. Good one, God!) but also about how it just stresses you out and you live shorter and stuff.
But really.
If I didn't worry now and then, I wouldn't show up to school. I wouldn't try to pass my classes. I wouldn't try to balance at the end of the day (fired much?) and there would be no anticipation, no let down. No relief...
What I'm trying to say is that worry kills me but I use it like an instrument to keep me in shape.
Or maybe I'm using it to kill me.

Okay. On towards brighter pastures...
If you have a minute, you should check out my friend Paul Porter.
(http://www.myspace.com/paulportermusic)
Listen to "The Verdict".
Por favor.

"Well, don't worry about it.........unless you want to."
-Shannon

a list.

-I suck at scrabble?
-midterms tomorrow
-sleeping next to a bucket of laundry
-finding Helen Keller quarters
-Am I friends with Tanya in real life?
-wheredoesthegoodgo
-Dónde está mi corazón? Yo ponerlo en algún lugar.
-no I don't live here anymore

yeah, I'm not buying it either, but I'll try selling it anyway

I guess I am addicted to running away from home. To home. Living in my car day to day, living in other people's houses. Being in other states.
I long for Des Moines, I long for Peoria. I long for that feeling of home that is not always in my parent's house, but often with my grandmother, or out in the silent breathtaking country of Illinois. So I go looking for it all over.
But when it comes down to it, I hate leaving here.

Bob helped me with my Spanish homework today. Well he wrote it for me, actually. He's pretty much a fantastic guy, and he's got some facial hair right now, which is probably why we've been getting along so well this week.
Maybe I'll pass Spanish.
Maybe I'll just be okay at life?

New admission, at 3 in the morning.
Smelling like smoke, feeling confused because I skipped ahead too many episodes in LOST, and this is the actual admission:
Sometimes I just don't eat all day because I'm too lazy to try to come up with something interesting to eat with the varied foods we have here in this place.

And then at three in the morning, I realize I am starving because all I ate today was oatmeal and half a plate of pasta. And I am still too uninspired to make something.
Goodnight.

a grievance or two

A) why the hell do you put up a stink when I ask you to take your effing ID out of your effing wallet. You think I can see the license number and the expiration date, and see your picture through that filthy piece of plastic enough to type it into the computer?
B) I need your ID in the first place because I don't know who you are, stupid
C) Why do you think its okay to park your car in my drive through and make four other people wait for you to add all your checks, and OH! You don't even have a deposit slip, and OH WAIT, can I get you a pen too, and give suckers to your kids while their are FOUR OTHER PEOPLE waiting to make deposits behind you.
D) I am not a human being. It is okay if you do not respond to my 'hello' or my 'have a good day'. And also if you could boss me around a little and have me staple stuff for you and give you your balance and give you a print out and call your mom and dry clean your shirts and count your $700 in ones. It's okay. It's cool, dude.


Sorry. Just putting it out there. I don't know how much I love this job anymore.

selfish admission of the week:

I just want to be happy.
That temporary happiness that leaves you and buries you and smothers you and enlightens you. Happiness like cupcakes and swimming and painted portraits and a brand new CD, and a hair cut, and a boyfriend who was named Tim (slightly metro, with framed glasses, you know?), smoking when it's not chilly outside, and seeing the stars in a recognizable constellation.

when they pin this thing on you- I'll tell them the truth, that you were made out of sugar and had it coming/that you leaped across distances and should have used a tight rope. That you spilled coffee on your pants, and never bothered to change them. That you were a hero, but I don't think I ever would have loved you for it. That you lived alone and would never admit it. That you were dramatic when you could have gotten your point across in quieter ways. That you're a conARTIST (but that I am mostly the same, I won't tell them that) That you have the best poison I've ever tasted and the longest story that's ever kept my attention.
That when you are far away, you are near.
And that I'll still take your advice any day.

things I have finished on my 20 year old list so far

-go back to Colorado
-see the ocean
-ride a roller coaster
-see Magnolia
-do something nice for somebody else

I'd like to finish a few things before the end of the year, also, such as

-learn Spanish
-write another story
-get out of debt

And then there are the things that I'd like to check off my list more frequently, like
-going to Mrs. Backer's to eat a french pastry
-have tea with Ashley at the Beehive Tea room
-go on music fasts, or eating fasts to spend more time praying
-hang out with my family and enjoy their company
-write letters to Celisse and send them in the mail
-run.

I'm getting more and more tired of my job, but I want to stay at least as long as Tanya. We'll see, I guess.

I am realizing that no matter how much people get what they want, they're still never happy. I think everyone has to realize that for themselves, and it's something I learn over and over as I watch the people I love get what they want, and God just wants them to burn for him.

He leaves us with a hole, because he loves us and wants us to seek him.

It's still hard to remember. When Bill talks about money at church, I always think exactly what he says..."No way, if someone gave me a million dollars, I'd do exactly the right things with it." But I know that when everything was said and done, it would just teach me how to get in more credit debt than I already am. So I'm happy being poor and not seeing the end of this tunnel quite yet.

And as for my heart, I am trying to brainwash myself a little. Trying to love being single (which is sometimes very easy and sometimes excruciating) enough that I could maybe stop smiling at Kevin, who comes through my drive-thru every day and would love to make my life any kind of hell he chose. Funny how easy it is to see through a fast car and cocky grin sometimes.

Sunday: shaky and coffee and lovely and unsatisfactory.

I was wearing my glasses tonight, and staring in the mirror I was just remembering you-- the way you used to wear your glasses more often. We both did. When we were younger. Or you weren't that young, but I was just a kid and learning.
Thinking my hair was long or short, and you loved me either way.
Thinking you loved me when I smoked. We smoked.
Thinking you loved me when I drank and swore and when I hated you and I loved you. Thinking you remember what the inside of my heart looks like, and you remember the TV shows I used to like, and what music I can't stand, and you remember that way I like my name written on paper in your handwriting, how it makes me warm, and it makes me feel pretty.

I was thinking I should call you more often, thinking I read your letters so much, but they don't say anything to me when I'm trying to choke down coffee in the morning. Wondering if I'm hearing from you, or really just guessing what you would say if you had the type of smooth voice coming across the table to me. That maybe you'd sound like Tom Hanks? I hope you sound like Tom Hanks.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, where did you go, and who is the cheap person I replace you with from moment to moment. The lovely people who are not you.
I guess I mean that I adore you.
In a round about way. Could you come back?

-Rache

"Do you think God has a bachelors of science degree?"
-Billy

Dear Jordan,
I'm just wondering where you are, and if some girl made you fall in love with her yet. And if she did, was it because her hair was long?
That's all for tonight.

Love,
Ampa

"I'm going to beat the maximum hardness of aliens."
-Nick D. on Halo, age 22

Science of Sleep made me sad at the end, even though it ends so happily and they're smiling. You still really don't know...

Sundays are always usually a little bit sad, and a little hit happy. I wake up alone and decide whether or not I'm really trying to quit coffee. Undecided, I drink half a cup and pop in a movie, around noon. My family is still gone somewhere so I eat a bowl of cereal around 2, finish the movie, and go for a run.
Feel lightheaded, lay on the floor with my dog for a minute, and then decide to shower. Perhaps catch up with my friends later and still haven't had a conversation with my parents in over a week.
Repeat, more or less for the next 52 Sundays til this one rolls around next year.
The weekend is not a reflection, I believe, on the substance of my life.