I've been at the farm for 5 days, without the internet.
I forgot what I was going to say about Greyhound buses (they are not as romantic as DCFC makes them out to be), farm chores, and the heavy but serene beauty of being out in the real country.
I mowed the lawn on a rider-mower which I can't remember if I have ever done. And I caught a possum (sp?) and two raccoons. Vermin! ha.
I talked to Shannon (ON THE PHONE!) for half an hour yesterday. She is the first voice I have heard (other than my family) from home, in 32 days. I fell in love with her all over again.
I am packing up my little blue bag again, and moving onward.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
I have a plane ticket back to Salt Lake tomorrow that I'm not going to use. If I had known, packing my bag to come here, that I was going to be out here for 3 months, I would have packed a lot more stuff.
I miss my buddies. I miss Este Pizza. I miss my family. I even miss the Aussies.
But I'm really having a good time with Judy. And everyday I look at my surroundings and think that we are masochists to live in a desert when Iowa is so lush, and the air smells beautiful.
I did some gardening yesterday with Judy. I am not a gardener. She kept saying all these latin names, and I was like, I don't know what that is, and she said, "the pink flowers over there". I'm only good for pulling weeds.
And I was trying to stay really white due to skin cancer, but I have a really horrible farmer's tan.
I miss my buddies. I miss Este Pizza. I miss my family. I even miss the Aussies.
But I'm really having a good time with Judy. And everyday I look at my surroundings and think that we are masochists to live in a desert when Iowa is so lush, and the air smells beautiful.
I did some gardening yesterday with Judy. I am not a gardener. She kept saying all these latin names, and I was like, I don't know what that is, and she said, "the pink flowers over there". I'm only good for pulling weeds.
And I was trying to stay really white due to skin cancer, but I have a really horrible farmer's tan.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Living away from Salt Lake and all my usual sights and tastes(I haven't had anything spicy in 20 days) starts to boil me down and I think of myself as this blank state.
This is what a lot of people wish for. A chance to start over and run away from your problems. And in this case, it really worked, but that doesn't mean I don't miss the people who usually help me solve the problems.
I got a lot of texts from people I love today, which sounds really stupid, but means a lot when I haven't seen any Salt Lakers in 3 weeks. And this is just the first "trimester" of my trip. Ha. But I take each day at a time and know I won't be given a gift so huge as this trip, again, for a really long time. Or maybe I will, this year could be God's way of saying, "Rachel, good job hanging in there for all of 2009 and the hard parts of 2010." I can't really tell if that is a sacrilegious thing to say. Right now I have some Benedryl starting to kick in.
So here are some of my action steps in hitting the reset button while I am out here in the fields of waving grain.
- I've been catching up on my daily Bible readings. (I am only one month behind now. Woohoo!)
- I am trying to clean up my speech, in all ways.
- trying to be quick to serve.
- learning the stories, the heritage. Geesh. I am supposed to be writing these stories down.
Judy told me today that she cried really hard when we moved to Colorado to start a church. She was devastated. And I never really thought about that. We have always just kept moving farther and farther from home base, and it never seemed to phase my parents, but it was really hard on the grandparents.
I told Judy today that I feel like I am supposed to be writing my proverbial novel. You always see the writers go off into the country to write, but here I am watching Reality Television and painting my fingernails.
I will try harder. I will.
This is what a lot of people wish for. A chance to start over and run away from your problems. And in this case, it really worked, but that doesn't mean I don't miss the people who usually help me solve the problems.
I got a lot of texts from people I love today, which sounds really stupid, but means a lot when I haven't seen any Salt Lakers in 3 weeks. And this is just the first "trimester" of my trip. Ha. But I take each day at a time and know I won't be given a gift so huge as this trip, again, for a really long time. Or maybe I will, this year could be God's way of saying, "Rachel, good job hanging in there for all of 2009 and the hard parts of 2010." I can't really tell if that is a sacrilegious thing to say. Right now I have some Benedryl starting to kick in.
So here are some of my action steps in hitting the reset button while I am out here in the fields of waving grain.
- I've been catching up on my daily Bible readings. (I am only one month behind now. Woohoo!)
- I am trying to clean up my speech, in all ways.
- trying to be quick to serve.
- learning the stories, the heritage. Geesh. I am supposed to be writing these stories down.
Judy told me today that she cried really hard when we moved to Colorado to start a church. She was devastated. And I never really thought about that. We have always just kept moving farther and farther from home base, and it never seemed to phase my parents, but it was really hard on the grandparents.
I told Judy today that I feel like I am supposed to be writing my proverbial novel. You always see the writers go off into the country to write, but here I am watching Reality Television and painting my fingernails.
I will try harder. I will.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Maybe it was a little premature to say that I don't want to go back to Utah. I do miss people there. Especially my family.
I just don't miss the dog hair, the pollution, and doing the same old.
I will want to go back, just not right now.
We are talking about me staying here until the end of June, when I would then go to the farm with my family for most of July. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Blair Waldorf may summer in Paris, but this is the first time I've gotten to "summer" anywhere, and of course I would choose the Midwest. :)
I might not do my Into the Wild adventure this summer, but this is an adventure in itself.
I mean, I have been wearing the same 6 shirts over and over and over...
I just don't miss the dog hair, the pollution, and doing the same old.
I will want to go back, just not right now.
We are talking about me staying here until the end of June, when I would then go to the farm with my family for most of July. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Blair Waldorf may summer in Paris, but this is the first time I've gotten to "summer" anywhere, and of course I would choose the Midwest. :)
I might not do my Into the Wild adventure this summer, but this is an adventure in itself.
I mean, I have been wearing the same 6 shirts over and over and over...
Monday, May 16, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Receiving Gifts.
I feel downright spoiled, these days.
And there is something very hard for me, about receiving gifts. I'm the oldest child in my family, and we grew up in a very frugal household. I never wanted to owe my parents everything, so I've always had jobs to pay for the things that I wanted to enjoy, but wouldn't let my parents pay for.
I had my truck paid off by my first semester of college. I always bought my own clothes. I have never asked my parents for money.
Growing up this way has made it very hard for me to accept gifts. To receive a gift I haven't earned gives me that weird feeling in my gut. I have to live up to this, I think.
Since I got here, I have been lavishly showered in love and presents, and adoration by my grandmother, my grandfather, and even my great uncle. I think, that even though it is hard to receive this attention, it is a picture, also, of what Christ has done for me. Something that I can never repay. But it gives me drive in my gut to live up to something. Our works on earth will never bring us any closer to the arms of Jesus, but our servitude is a reflection of our gratitude.
I am more humbled and convicted each day of what a crumby human I am, and the Christ-follower I want to become. I want to leave a legacy.
I feel downright spoiled, these days.
And there is something very hard for me, about receiving gifts. I'm the oldest child in my family, and we grew up in a very frugal household. I never wanted to owe my parents everything, so I've always had jobs to pay for the things that I wanted to enjoy, but wouldn't let my parents pay for.
I had my truck paid off by my first semester of college. I always bought my own clothes. I have never asked my parents for money.
Growing up this way has made it very hard for me to accept gifts. To receive a gift I haven't earned gives me that weird feeling in my gut. I have to live up to this, I think.
Since I got here, I have been lavishly showered in love and presents, and adoration by my grandmother, my grandfather, and even my great uncle. I think, that even though it is hard to receive this attention, it is a picture, also, of what Christ has done for me. Something that I can never repay. But it gives me drive in my gut to live up to something. Our works on earth will never bring us any closer to the arms of Jesus, but our servitude is a reflection of our gratitude.
I am more humbled and convicted each day of what a crumby human I am, and the Christ-follower I want to become. I want to leave a legacy.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I want to break the habit of staying up til 1am and getting up at 9am, but tonight is not the night, I guess.
I got to see my grandfather (Marvin) today and yesterday, because he is in town visiting his Iowa friends. This is the most cheerful I've seen him since two years ago. He didn't even start crying at lunch today when Gin told a story about my grandma. I did instead.
Life here is...good. The air smells like honey, and it's thick and muggy. I like the humidity. The streets are small, like the older parts of the Salt Lake valley, but very much unrepaired compared to Utah streets.
I am getting to know my way around Des Moines, even by myself. I know the street names and where they intersect, even though they don't have NorthSouthEastWest attached to them. I feel like a native more each day. I know I could stay, if God asked me to do that. I'd miss every one in Salt Lake really dreadfully, but I could do it.
I had a New Belgium 1554 tonight. I know you're jealous. If you live in Utah. But no matter if I just have one beer, or twenty, I always get a headache.
And also, I was using the electric blanket on my bed two days ago, and then the next day it was suddenly summer. And you might know I hate summer, but I was standing out on the lawn, accidentally enjoying the sprinklers, and I do have to admit that I have it in my heart to enjoy summer nights. But that's it. I am already dreaming of September Fashion, and Thanksgiving, and snowfall, and pumpkins. Call me a heretic.
I got to see my grandfather (Marvin) today and yesterday, because he is in town visiting his Iowa friends. This is the most cheerful I've seen him since two years ago. He didn't even start crying at lunch today when Gin told a story about my grandma. I did instead.
Life here is...good. The air smells like honey, and it's thick and muggy. I like the humidity. The streets are small, like the older parts of the Salt Lake valley, but very much unrepaired compared to Utah streets.
I am getting to know my way around Des Moines, even by myself. I know the street names and where they intersect, even though they don't have NorthSouthEastWest attached to them. I feel like a native more each day. I know I could stay, if God asked me to do that. I'd miss every one in Salt Lake really dreadfully, but I could do it.
I had a New Belgium 1554 tonight. I know you're jealous. If you live in Utah. But no matter if I just have one beer, or twenty, I always get a headache.
And also, I was using the electric blanket on my bed two days ago, and then the next day it was suddenly summer. And you might know I hate summer, but I was standing out on the lawn, accidentally enjoying the sprinklers, and I do have to admit that I have it in my heart to enjoy summer nights. But that's it. I am already dreaming of September Fashion, and Thanksgiving, and snowfall, and pumpkins. Call me a heretic.
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Happy Mother's Day!
Today we made really delicious orange scones with really decadent frosting. Real scones, not Utah scones.
All of my grandmother's dishes are that elegant.
Mother's day is stressful for me (like, what holidays aren't?) because I never know how to say thank you enough for what a mother does. But I think saying thank you at all is a big deal. So, thanks to all moms!!
We watched all of Anne of Green Gables today, which is really long. Any L. M. Montgomery brings back age eleven through thirteen. That, and watching Pride and Prejudice last night has put me in kind of a sappy-romantic mood. That, and not seeing any men my age since my plane ride last week.
So here is a toast to mothers, and here is a toast to classic romance.
And maybe a toast to whatever Modern Romance is, and how that brings about more mothers.
Today we made really delicious orange scones with really decadent frosting. Real scones, not Utah scones.
All of my grandmother's dishes are that elegant.
Mother's day is stressful for me (like, what holidays aren't?) because I never know how to say thank you enough for what a mother does. But I think saying thank you at all is a big deal. So, thanks to all moms!!
We watched all of Anne of Green Gables today, which is really long. Any L. M. Montgomery brings back age eleven through thirteen. That, and watching Pride and Prejudice last night has put me in kind of a sappy-romantic mood. That, and not seeing any men my age since my plane ride last week.
So here is a toast to mothers, and here is a toast to classic romance.
And maybe a toast to whatever Modern Romance is, and how that brings about more mothers.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
"This might be long and boring. We don't know yet."
-Judy on film Hereafter
You might have heard Celisse and I pretending to be Judy while we watch movies. But I always have to laugh inside when I am actually watching a movie with the real Judy.
She does a thing of explaining to you what we usually already know, and she says this collectively, like we are just finding it out together. It's fun. Try it.
"Oh the girl is just now realizing she's in love with the guy."
Also, she falls asleep during movies a lot, like my dad, but she wakes up and then asks a whole bunch of questions, and then falls back asleep. Kind of like watching a movie with Noah, only he doesn't fall asleep. He just asks a lot of questions.
On a side note, I think Noah is going to turn out, somehow, to be the most wildly successful of all of us Tenenbaums.
He'll be the one ignoring our questions and phonecalls. And rightly so.
I looked down tonight at my hands, washing the coffeepot, and thought about each day that I do this. I like playing house.
And Judy was right. Hereafter was way long and boring. Too many plotlines, but not enough Magnolia-ness.
-Judy on film Hereafter
You might have heard Celisse and I pretending to be Judy while we watch movies. But I always have to laugh inside when I am actually watching a movie with the real Judy.
She does a thing of explaining to you what we usually already know, and she says this collectively, like we are just finding it out together. It's fun. Try it.
"Oh the girl is just now realizing she's in love with the guy."
Also, she falls asleep during movies a lot, like my dad, but she wakes up and then asks a whole bunch of questions, and then falls back asleep. Kind of like watching a movie with Noah, only he doesn't fall asleep. He just asks a lot of questions.
On a side note, I think Noah is going to turn out, somehow, to be the most wildly successful of all of us Tenenbaums.
He'll be the one ignoring our questions and phonecalls. And rightly so.
I looked down tonight at my hands, washing the coffeepot, and thought about each day that I do this. I like playing house.
And Judy was right. Hereafter was way long and boring. Too many plotlines, but not enough Magnolia-ness.
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
[x] make my first meatloaf
Yeah. That was a real thing on my fake bucket-list.
Sometimes Megan talks about the meals she is preparing, and she gets really wound up, and stresses out in a cute way about it. I thought making meatloaf was going to be really hard, because of all the questions I heard her asking people. But I love meatloaf (the food.) so much that I decided to do it anyway, and Judy gave me a recipe.
Megan and I can make meatloaf, and you can too.
I've been frying up potatoes, breaded fish, bacon...(yep, we've been eating pretty heavy meals) and we've been eating ice cream drumsticks every night. They are going to make me buy another seat when I fly back to Utah.
Just kidding.
I've been trying to run outside (hate it), and go up and down the stairs, and I'm trying to do push-ups and sit-ups when Judy is on the phone. I don't want her to know that I'm running up and down the stairs, because that is just embarrassing that I would think that is going to cancel out ice cream or melted Pepperjack turkey sandwiches. (Are you hungry yet?) I'm approximately skinnier than when I left, but I did buy a pair of sweat pants that I wear all day, so I really can't tell.
Iowa is treating me well. I haven't had heartburn, a headache, or a stomach ache since I've been here. Although my brain might be melting from watching too much TV, this is a short, blissful season of my life that I'm going to enjoy while it lasts.
Yeah. That was a real thing on my fake bucket-list.
Sometimes Megan talks about the meals she is preparing, and she gets really wound up, and stresses out in a cute way about it. I thought making meatloaf was going to be really hard, because of all the questions I heard her asking people. But I love meatloaf (the food.) so much that I decided to do it anyway, and Judy gave me a recipe.
Megan and I can make meatloaf, and you can too.
I've been frying up potatoes, breaded fish, bacon...(yep, we've been eating pretty heavy meals) and we've been eating ice cream drumsticks every night. They are going to make me buy another seat when I fly back to Utah.
Just kidding.
I've been trying to run outside (hate it), and go up and down the stairs, and I'm trying to do push-ups and sit-ups when Judy is on the phone. I don't want her to know that I'm running up and down the stairs, because that is just embarrassing that I would think that is going to cancel out ice cream or melted Pepperjack turkey sandwiches. (Are you hungry yet?) I'm approximately skinnier than when I left, but I did buy a pair of sweat pants that I wear all day, so I really can't tell.
Iowa is treating me well. I haven't had heartburn, a headache, or a stomach ache since I've been here. Although my brain might be melting from watching too much TV, this is a short, blissful season of my life that I'm going to enjoy while it lasts.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
I was hiding underneath the sea. I was looking out for me. Just me, the fish and the sea.
Patrick Watson
I lay awake for a while at night, without my white noise, wondering about how I got to be the way I am, and what parts are the influence of my family. Jeremy once said, as he was walking out the door,
"Rachel, you have your mother's common sense, and your dad's cynicism. You've got common cynicism."
My dad's side of the family is extremely outgoing, laughs a lot, loves deeply, and worries about stuff until they get it over with.
I think that when I am outgoing, I am like them. Especially worrying about stuff.
My mother's side of the family is more introverted, and mostly keep things bottled inside, but also laughs a lot, they know how to have fun together.
I hope I am a mix of them. I know that my honesty of who I am deep down only comes out over wine with the Moores, or during Jazz games with Celisse and Bryan in their basement. Or eating out with Kelsea and Caleb. (Oh, I just figured it out, I'm a third wheel.) But otherwise I know that I can push things away to simmer for years, and I need to let go.
Being with Judy is really great so far. My heart is learning humility, I think. I look around at the pictures in her house, and think about how in-love my grandparents were until the day Phil went to Heaven. I feel my walls melting about the marriage thing. I realize marriage will turn out really good for some people. I won't close my heart off for good, even if my eyes are closed right now.
"Rachel, we're not teenagers anymore. We don't fall in love with every guy we see," Martha told me during my last week of work. And she's right. There's probably some hoser out there for me somewhere. And hopefully he's almost done becoming a Dermatologist.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Day One.
I woke up in Iowa. On the second floor of the Happily Ever After house. When you walk in this house, it smells better than any other place. I woke up late.
It is amazing to just sit and talk with Judy, and not worry about how I have to leave in 5 days. Or 6 days. Or even 20 days. To not think about vault combos, or account maintenance, or Spanish. I went grocery shopping for us, and the cashier and bagger both gave me a smiling welcome to Iowa.
There is no one as free as I am, right now.
I just wish she wasn't in so much pain. Twenty four hours a day. But she is encouraged and hopeful, which makes me encouraged and hopeful.
We made a short trip to the hospital, and on the way back I noticed a marquee under a sign for either a dry cleaner, or a car wash or something, and it said, Don't abandon your friend. Just like that. No explanation. And I thought, maybe their heart is broken. Or maybe it's just an ad that I don't understand.
I woke up in Iowa. On the second floor of the Happily Ever After house. When you walk in this house, it smells better than any other place. I woke up late.
It is amazing to just sit and talk with Judy, and not worry about how I have to leave in 5 days. Or 6 days. Or even 20 days. To not think about vault combos, or account maintenance, or Spanish. I went grocery shopping for us, and the cashier and bagger both gave me a smiling welcome to Iowa.
There is no one as free as I am, right now.
I just wish she wasn't in so much pain. Twenty four hours a day. But she is encouraged and hopeful, which makes me encouraged and hopeful.
We made a short trip to the hospital, and on the way back I noticed a marquee under a sign for either a dry cleaner, or a car wash or something, and it said, Don't abandon your friend. Just like that. No explanation. And I thought, maybe their heart is broken. Or maybe it's just an ad that I don't understand.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
It is a strange thing that all that is holding our blood and guts and tissue inside is SKIN. Skin is amazing. It heels back over, you can graft it. It grows and changes with you. It amazes me that the worst that happens is that it will get wrinkly as we get older, and if we live a really long time, it gets papery and thin. We are very blessed at how many do-overs God lets us have with this single body we've been given.
72 hours from now, I'll be on a plane.
I can feel God protecting me and holding my hand through all of this. I'm watching him tie it up with a bow and give it to me like a present.
-I think I'm going to still have my job when I come back.
-Spanish Oral evaluations went pretty well, and I'm done with Spanish for the rest of my college career
-I'm 34% done with my Horror paper (so that must mean I have 10 more hours)
"Like a soldier, one foot in front of the other."
Regina Spektor
We keep going.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Hell week
I can't believe I just went through this 4 months ago. It seems like yesterday.
I can't remember names. I can pull up faces, but not names. I've been drinking more cups of coffee than I thought I was capable of.
I'm still only two pages into my Horror paper. I think after Spanish Oral Evaluations in the morning, I'll be able to think clearer.
The time is flashing before my eyes.
I can't believe I just went through this 4 months ago. It seems like yesterday.
I can't remember names. I can pull up faces, but not names. I've been drinking more cups of coffee than I thought I was capable of.
I'm still only two pages into my Horror paper. I think after Spanish Oral Evaluations in the morning, I'll be able to think clearer.
The time is flashing before my eyes.
Alright, what is next?
My workplace is very dramatic right now, but I am trying to ignore it all, and just enjoy my last week. Yesterday, I walked in, and there were balloons at my station, and the board that we use to post mortgage rates said. "Rachel's last week!" And something else nice about saying goodbye. I think we might have a little party, and I just can't believe how nice they are being, because I've only worked there for 8 months. Ashleigh calls it "Graduation goggles", where everything is suddenly rosy, and you think to yourself, "Why am I leaving here, again?"
I had a really nice Spanish dinner with Ashleigh and Dan, and amazing wine. And then we walked to the frozen yogurt place, and my heart was so full and so happy.
But as I lay in bed and couldn't fall asleep, I thought to myself about what the air smells like, standing on the back-porch of my grandmother's house, and I know I'm doing the right thing, even though it's going to be so hard to see her in pain, when she was so lively at Christmas time.
"I'm alright, don't I always seem to be? I've been swinging off the stars, don't I wear them on my sleeves?"
-Brandi Carlile
My workplace is very dramatic right now, but I am trying to ignore it all, and just enjoy my last week. Yesterday, I walked in, and there were balloons at my station, and the board that we use to post mortgage rates said. "Rachel's last week!" And something else nice about saying goodbye. I think we might have a little party, and I just can't believe how nice they are being, because I've only worked there for 8 months. Ashleigh calls it "Graduation goggles", where everything is suddenly rosy, and you think to yourself, "Why am I leaving here, again?"
I had a really nice Spanish dinner with Ashleigh and Dan, and amazing wine. And then we walked to the frozen yogurt place, and my heart was so full and so happy.
But as I lay in bed and couldn't fall asleep, I thought to myself about what the air smells like, standing on the back-porch of my grandmother's house, and I know I'm doing the right thing, even though it's going to be so hard to see her in pain, when she was so lively at Christmas time.
"I'm alright, don't I always seem to be? I've been swinging off the stars, don't I wear them on my sleeves?"
-Brandi Carlile
Thursday, April 21, 2011
My dentist told me to start brushing with my left hand. To slow down, and stop taking my anger out on my teeth.
I need a drink before you sit down and tell me this.
Sometimes when I am leaving your house at 11:30 at night, I still see a very old man leaning into his computer, in his office, and I think why is he still there.
I am trying to listen to Mumford and Sons, and all I can think is this guy sounds like a folk-pop version of Eminem. Or something.
Still, my favorite sound of all time is when your car slows down on the interstate, on the off-ramps mostly. It is the sound of going home. Whether to your home in Utah, or your home in Iowa, and your home in Illinois.
I walk down the halls, I try to think of how many ways I can say,
The wind is at my back.
I'm walking on clouds.
There is warm sunshine, and I am wearing sunglasses.
All the wine is all for me.
The icing on the cake.
The world is my oyster.
"I bribed them to sing a song that would drive us insane and make our hearts swell and burst."
-Joe Banks, Joe vs. the Volcano
I need a drink before you sit down and tell me this.
Sometimes when I am leaving your house at 11:30 at night, I still see a very old man leaning into his computer, in his office, and I think why is he still there.
I am trying to listen to Mumford and Sons, and all I can think is this guy sounds like a folk-pop version of Eminem. Or something.
Still, my favorite sound of all time is when your car slows down on the interstate, on the off-ramps mostly. It is the sound of going home. Whether to your home in Utah, or your home in Iowa, and your home in Illinois.
I walk down the halls, I try to think of how many ways I can say,
The wind is at my back.
I'm walking on clouds.
There is warm sunshine, and I am wearing sunglasses.
All the wine is all for me.
The icing on the cake.
The world is my oyster.
"I bribed them to sing a song that would drive us insane and make our hearts swell and burst."
-Joe Banks, Joe vs. the Volcano
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I watched a couple kids over the weekend as per the Marriage Conference and there being a general lack of single people around, I was asked to by Nancy, regardless of what people may be thinking in their heads... Have I ever even seen Rachel around a small child? But I have been around two small children now.
On Saturday, I woke up on the couch to Isaac yelling my name from his bedroom. I thought it was still around 4a.m., (it was 7:30)
"MISS RACHEL, I WET THE BED!"
"No you didn't, you are wearing a pull-up." I told him.
"Oh. Can I get up now?"
"I guess."
And I realized, when you have kids, not only do you work all week to put their needs first, but you also have to do this all weekend. And when you were twenty two, you could wake up late, eat waffles, go back to bed, and then watch OnDemand all day until you apply your face and go to church.
I heaved a sigh of relief that I am still twenty two, and I vowed to let my poor future children watch as many episodes of Alec-Baldwin-narrated-Thomas-the-Tank-Engine as they want on Saturdays. But also to teach them to read when they are four. Maybe this will even things out.
"You are married, right?" Isaac asked me at lunch time.
"Ha! Noooooo. Definitely not."
"You are married!" He yelled at me, and put on his pouty face, which he does whenever you contradict anything he says.
"Nope. If I was married, I would be at the marriage conference, or at home watching my kids. Why do you think I am married?"
"BECAUSE YOU ARE MARRIED." He yelled back.
"Okay."
Sometimes, after a glass of wine, I think I am married. To Bob. I think Bob and I live in Holladay or Salt Lake, and that he is kind enough to me to never think about getting a dog. I don't think about how we ended up married, but we accidentally did, and I sleep well at night because of the gun sitting on the night-stand. We do not have a car-port, because car-ports are terrifying. Car-ports are always the beginnings of my worst nightmares ending in me chopping at the brachial or carotid arteries of a bad guy with a car key.
I think I dream this dream because of reading my friend Kristie's blog, and she seems to live in a gingerbread house and writes her life in lists of things she's living through with her husband.
Bob, maybe if I had let you ask me to dance instead of running and hiding in the bathroom, we could have had this life together. But you are fine and I am fine too.
On Saturday, I woke up on the couch to Isaac yelling my name from his bedroom. I thought it was still around 4a.m., (it was 7:30)
"MISS RACHEL, I WET THE BED!"
"No you didn't, you are wearing a pull-up." I told him.
"Oh. Can I get up now?"
"I guess."
And I realized, when you have kids, not only do you work all week to put their needs first, but you also have to do this all weekend. And when you were twenty two, you could wake up late, eat waffles, go back to bed, and then watch OnDemand all day until you apply your face and go to church.
I heaved a sigh of relief that I am still twenty two, and I vowed to let my poor future children watch as many episodes of Alec-Baldwin-narrated-Thomas-the-Tank-Engine as they want on Saturdays. But also to teach them to read when they are four. Maybe this will even things out.
"You are married, right?" Isaac asked me at lunch time.
"Ha! Noooooo. Definitely not."
"You are married!" He yelled at me, and put on his pouty face, which he does whenever you contradict anything he says.
"Nope. If I was married, I would be at the marriage conference, or at home watching my kids. Why do you think I am married?"
"BECAUSE YOU ARE MARRIED." He yelled back.
"Okay."
Sometimes, after a glass of wine, I think I am married. To Bob. I think Bob and I live in Holladay or Salt Lake, and that he is kind enough to me to never think about getting a dog. I don't think about how we ended up married, but we accidentally did, and I sleep well at night because of the gun sitting on the night-stand. We do not have a car-port, because car-ports are terrifying. Car-ports are always the beginnings of my worst nightmares ending in me chopping at the brachial or carotid arteries of a bad guy with a car key.
I think I dream this dream because of reading my friend Kristie's blog, and she seems to live in a gingerbread house and writes her life in lists of things she's living through with her husband.
Bob, maybe if I had let you ask me to dance instead of running and hiding in the bathroom, we could have had this life together. But you are fine and I am fine too.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
I want to do a big backpack trip into the mountains where you take everything in on your backs. I think this will help me reconcile my current Out of the Wild dreams.
I want to become a penny-pincher. I wish I could become like my friends who live by the bare minimum. I want to do this to be saving up for something really grand or exciting.
I want to go on a Central or South American mission trip after college.
I am starting to think through what I'm packing for my Iowa adventure. I put a couple things for sale online to try to make the most money possible to prepare for being jobless.
I did spend a few sunny minutes on my back porch watching the Aussies running around. But for being so Sunday Ambitious, I really didn't get anything done today but watch shows OnDemand and do half of a Jillian workout.
I want to become a penny-pincher. I wish I could become like my friends who live by the bare minimum. I want to do this to be saving up for something really grand or exciting.
I want to go on a Central or South American mission trip after college.
I am starting to think through what I'm packing for my Iowa adventure. I put a couple things for sale online to try to make the most money possible to prepare for being jobless.
I did spend a few sunny minutes on my back porch watching the Aussies running around. But for being so Sunday Ambitious, I really didn't get anything done today but watch shows OnDemand and do half of a Jillian workout.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
school days
Every one knows I love school.
It took me a few years.
It took me losing a few heart-warming things.
It took me time for literature to sink in.
For a few years, I felt like every other student was smarter than me, and that they all knew something I didn't. Or worse, that they had taken a class that taught them all about Lacan's mirror theory, or about how to ace MLA for writing papers. Or maybe I needed to smoke weed to get the deeper meaning of everything. But it turned out I was just young and was only taking 2 or 3 classes a semester, so I really wasn't reading as much as the other English students who were wearing weird clothes and didn't have real jobs.
Now, I love school. And it's not like I feel part of this elite academia like "Skinny Harvard Girl" (see "Harvard" label) or Pilar*, and it's not always just about the learning and the knowledge. It's just about being there. It's just about taking the bus or the train to this place.
The university...it feels secluded. It feels far away from my house (it is) and it feels like there are no children there. (Sometimes I see a child, and it is like, where the heck did you come from?) It feels like a place I travel to.
The iPod is involved in getting there. Moody music and This American Life.
Snacks are involved. Packing your bag for the long hours.
Reading books you never would have read. Forcing yourself to learn and think in a second language, just because it is required for your Bachelor's in Art.
But besides being a road trip, College is full of surprising people. You put them under a certain amount of pressure, and watch them start to boil. OR, you just take away their parents, and find out that they are actually primates.
You see girls who are wearing sunglasses to class because they are hungover. You see a boy in the Library commons trying to get you to vote for a ficus tree instead of the students who are running for office. You see a kid walk down the hall in a shark costume.
And one day, maybe you are just washing your hands in the girls' bathroom after spending an entire class period searching for the deeper gender politics in the British Horror movie The Descent and standing there, staring at you, is an old man. A very old man. And you are embarrassed to try to think how to tell him he is in the women's restroom. He is giving you an awkward smile because he is trying to think how to tell you that you are in the men's restroom. You know there is another girl in the stall, but you think, This old guy is pretty harmless, so you don't say anything, and as you walk away, you see him looking for urinals and not being able to spot any. And you hope the other girl doesn't see him, and you hope no other girls see him.
And perhaps they don't.
And you reassure yourself that it was definitely an old man, because he had a real beard.
"And all the wine is all for me."
-The National
*Character bio: Pilar
Pilar sits next to me in Spanish, and makes me feel old because she is 18. She has no job, but takes like a buttload of credits and plays Lacrosse. She is the most fluent in our Spanish class, besides our professor. She also takes Greek, because she is Greek. I have a deep and undying need for her to approve of me, because she is a way cooler 18-year-old than I ever was.
Every one knows I love school.
It took me a few years.
It took me losing a few heart-warming things.
It took me time for literature to sink in.
For a few years, I felt like every other student was smarter than me, and that they all knew something I didn't. Or worse, that they had taken a class that taught them all about Lacan's mirror theory, or about how to ace MLA for writing papers. Or maybe I needed to smoke weed to get the deeper meaning of everything. But it turned out I was just young and was only taking 2 or 3 classes a semester, so I really wasn't reading as much as the other English students who were wearing weird clothes and didn't have real jobs.
Now, I love school. And it's not like I feel part of this elite academia like "Skinny Harvard Girl" (see "Harvard" label) or Pilar*, and it's not always just about the learning and the knowledge. It's just about being there. It's just about taking the bus or the train to this place.
The university...it feels secluded. It feels far away from my house (it is) and it feels like there are no children there. (Sometimes I see a child, and it is like, where the heck did you come from?) It feels like a place I travel to.
The iPod is involved in getting there. Moody music and This American Life.
Snacks are involved. Packing your bag for the long hours.
Reading books you never would have read. Forcing yourself to learn and think in a second language, just because it is required for your Bachelor's in Art.
But besides being a road trip, College is full of surprising people. You put them under a certain amount of pressure, and watch them start to boil. OR, you just take away their parents, and find out that they are actually primates.
You see girls who are wearing sunglasses to class because they are hungover. You see a boy in the Library commons trying to get you to vote for a ficus tree instead of the students who are running for office. You see a kid walk down the hall in a shark costume.
And one day, maybe you are just washing your hands in the girls' bathroom after spending an entire class period searching for the deeper gender politics in the British Horror movie The Descent and standing there, staring at you, is an old man. A very old man. And you are embarrassed to try to think how to tell him he is in the women's restroom. He is giving you an awkward smile because he is trying to think how to tell you that you are in the men's restroom. You know there is another girl in the stall, but you think, This old guy is pretty harmless, so you don't say anything, and as you walk away, you see him looking for urinals and not being able to spot any. And you hope the other girl doesn't see him, and you hope no other girls see him.
And perhaps they don't.
And you reassure yourself that it was definitely an old man, because he had a real beard.
"And all the wine is all for me."
-The National
*Character bio: Pilar
Pilar sits next to me in Spanish, and makes me feel old because she is 18. She has no job, but takes like a buttload of credits and plays Lacrosse. She is the most fluent in our Spanish class, besides our professor. She also takes Greek, because she is Greek. I have a deep and undying need for her to approve of me, because she is a way cooler 18-year-old than I ever was.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Philip got me hooked on this show. It's called Out of the Wild.
I caught up on two more episodes over the weekend, and it's all I see when I close my eyes.
The premise is that they dropped these (nine?) people off in a desolate part of Venezuela and they have to trek 70 miles over mountains, jungles, and Savannah. They got 3 days of survivor training, but for the most part they are just ordinary people from California, Michegan, Illinois, etc. There is no prize at the end if they make it.
I think that's what gets me most, is they are out there in these horrible circumstances, and just because they want to accomplish this goal. They usually trek for a day, set up camp, and then spend a day or two trying to find food. They never find much: they catch a couple of fish, or eat some larvae or termites, and these hard disgusting bark-fruits. They are eating an average of like, 300 calories a day.
And the funny thing is, that watching them keep trekking together, emaciated and dizzy, I want to be there with them, doing it.
Or do something like it.
It makes me want to do some kind of fun summer adventure.
More to come.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
i have dreams
In my daydreams, I am sitting next to someone who smells nice. There is Russian music in the background, and when I touch the skin on my face, it is soft like summer and I no longer crave sugar. I crave to run through the fields and have itchy farm-legs. To run until I gasp for breath and Rosy runs next to me, and in the end of the dream, we both jump into the lake, and no seaweed will wrap its arms around me and drag me down into the snapping turtles on the bottom.
The real dreams I have at night are stress dreams. Stress dreams of leaving children very much un-babysat. I leave them before their parents come home, and then always in the dreams (with or without the children) I have to run from Sandy to Murray. Or from Salt Lake to Holladay, and I never know how long this will take me. I run to babysit these kids. Or I run for other reasons.
Every time I see a white Land Rover, I recall the red-faced couple who came to get their extra-dry 1 pump white mocha soy cappuccinos and sandwiches with the sausage taken off. I quickly recall the nightmares that they gave me.
Lord, have mercy on me.
In my daydreams, I am sitting next to someone who smells nice. There is Russian music in the background, and when I touch the skin on my face, it is soft like summer and I no longer crave sugar. I crave to run through the fields and have itchy farm-legs. To run until I gasp for breath and Rosy runs next to me, and in the end of the dream, we both jump into the lake, and no seaweed will wrap its arms around me and drag me down into the snapping turtles on the bottom.
The real dreams I have at night are stress dreams. Stress dreams of leaving children very much un-babysat. I leave them before their parents come home, and then always in the dreams (with or without the children) I have to run from Sandy to Murray. Or from Salt Lake to Holladay, and I never know how long this will take me. I run to babysit these kids. Or I run for other reasons.
Every time I see a white Land Rover, I recall the red-faced couple who came to get their extra-dry 1 pump white mocha soy cappuccinos and sandwiches with the sausage taken off. I quickly recall the nightmares that they gave me.
Lord, have mercy on me.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Monday, April 04, 2011
Well somebody has a hot date
and I think it's Noah. I think he smells like Usher. Whatever cologne he is wearing, there is a lot of it, and it is flavoring my Chinese food in the wrong direction.
To live here is confusing. And you may say, "Rachel, remember that time you said that one has to become a mind-reader to survive?" Well I did say something like that. I think it was pertaining to relationships.
But something you aren't prepared mentally for, is to hit your 23rd birthday, and to still be living with your parents, and jobless, and still going to college.
You aren't prepared to stand next to a skinny 20 year old in front of the library, and hear her talk about graduating next year and moving to Boston, and living a really exciting life.
And maybe you look at this skinny girl, and you think about how she loves Arrested Development and Joe Vs. the Volcano as much as you do. And you sigh, because this other girl, she gets up in the morning and wears a skirt and tights, and lives in the dorms, and takes a shuttle to Spanish. She is living out the Harvard dream instead of you. She is more Betty Draper than you, too.
It might be a heartbreaking moment. But you pull yourself onto the bus, and the guy next to you chats you up, and you still got it, a little bit. Dave is looking at you, wanting to know your phone number because you are a good wholesome girl, born in the Midwest and sensible in all the Prairie Home Companion type ways.
I close my eyes, lean my head against the window. There is a place in my mind, where I don't have to share a car. Where I ride my bike or the bus to Everywhere. Where I talk 12 credit semesters, and have 300 Bible verses memorized. Where I have never let a boy hold my hand. Or I have been married to a handsome black man, and we always iron our clothes, and at the end of the day go to Jazz games and drink Bud Light out of clear plastic cups. Depending on how I'm feeling on this particular bus ride.
But ultimately, I am happy here. I love my family. I enjoy the privilege of driving a car when it is inconvenient to take public transit. I am still going to an amazing university, and the "Harvard" girl sitting next to me heard the same Jorge Luis Borges words that I did today. But maybe it affected her differently. Maybe I am the lucky one.
Saturday, April 02, 2011
So there are these little pills I been taking
And my doctor, she says that they're safe
But I been sleepwalking down to the lake
And waking up in the water
-Jenny Lewis (with Johnny)
I think, "Adam and Eve, did you have to take these pills to get rid of allergies? To keep your guts from rotting within you? To settle your stomach so that it didn't come back up? Did you take antibiotics after you had strep throat?" And the answer is no. No they didn't.
Our DNA keeps breaking down more every year.
Well. I can't prove that. I don't know anything that has to do with science. But that's what my dad says, and he is the only person I believe about science, and I think it's because he knows about as much as I do.
I might take more pills than the average person my age. I get headaches, I get allergies, I get other painful problems.
With the more preventative pills, I think to myself, "What will happen if I stop taking this?" But it is just a really bad idea.
And it ends up being,
that this is real life.
That sometimes diet and exercise are not a cure-all.
But yes, one day we will be on the other side, and Adam and Eve will be like, "Wow, it really escalated quickly down there." And we will nod.
All the old grandmas and I. The old men will nod with me, and the other 22 year old girls who are taking 7 pills a day. "Yes it did," we will say.
And my doctor, she says that they're safe
But I been sleepwalking down to the lake
And waking up in the water
-Jenny Lewis (with Johnny)
I think, "Adam and Eve, did you have to take these pills to get rid of allergies? To keep your guts from rotting within you? To settle your stomach so that it didn't come back up? Did you take antibiotics after you had strep throat?" And the answer is no. No they didn't.
Our DNA keeps breaking down more every year.
Well. I can't prove that. I don't know anything that has to do with science. But that's what my dad says, and he is the only person I believe about science, and I think it's because he knows about as much as I do.
I might take more pills than the average person my age. I get headaches, I get allergies, I get other painful problems.
With the more preventative pills, I think to myself, "What will happen if I stop taking this?" But it is just a really bad idea.
And it ends up being,
that this is real life.
That sometimes diet and exercise are not a cure-all.
But yes, one day we will be on the other side, and Adam and Eve will be like, "Wow, it really escalated quickly down there." And we will nod.
All the old grandmas and I. The old men will nod with me, and the other 22 year old girls who are taking 7 pills a day. "Yes it did," we will say.
Friday, April 01, 2011
life in Utah
One thing I still haven't figured out, is staying hydrated. I drink more water than anyone else I know, but I am constantly thirsty.
I thought I would see a huge difference after I quit alcohol. But, I haven't. And yes, I usually have one cup of coffee a day. And I take an allergy pill, which sure doesn't help. But it doesn't seem like it should be this hard. I typically drink 3 liters of water a day, and any of my coworkers I've ever had could tell you how often I have to run to the bathroom.
I can only think that it comes down to living in the desert, and how dry the air is here.
So.
It's Friday night, my family is gone who-knows-where. Celisse hasn't answered the phone. I think it's going to be a quiet night to read, watch my dogs pace back and forth, and cook a fish in my toaster oven.
I was thinking I'd be excited that it's April 1st, but it is making everything loom over my head. I have to start thinking about my hard conversation I'm going to have with G. I am going to the dentist next week. And then finals are coming up, and at the same time packing, and having my things in order.
I feel like I am getting on a boat. I will be out at sea for a month. Judy will be there. There will be lots of books to read, and comforting silences.
And yes,
there will be Long John Silvers there.
One thing I still haven't figured out, is staying hydrated. I drink more water than anyone else I know, but I am constantly thirsty.
I thought I would see a huge difference after I quit alcohol. But, I haven't. And yes, I usually have one cup of coffee a day. And I take an allergy pill, which sure doesn't help. But it doesn't seem like it should be this hard. I typically drink 3 liters of water a day, and any of my coworkers I've ever had could tell you how often I have to run to the bathroom.
I can only think that it comes down to living in the desert, and how dry the air is here.
So.
It's Friday night, my family is gone who-knows-where. Celisse hasn't answered the phone. I think it's going to be a quiet night to read, watch my dogs pace back and forth, and cook a fish in my toaster oven.
I was thinking I'd be excited that it's April 1st, but it is making everything loom over my head. I have to start thinking about my hard conversation I'm going to have with G. I am going to the dentist next week. And then finals are coming up, and at the same time packing, and having my things in order.
I feel like I am getting on a boat. I will be out at sea for a month. Judy will be there. There will be lots of books to read, and comforting silences.
And yes,
there will be Long John Silvers there.
Monday, March 28, 2011
And you can use my skin, to bury secrets in,
and I will settle you down.
And at my own suggestion,
I will ask no questions
While I do my thing in the background
But all the time, (all the time)
I'll know.
Fiona Apple
It was kind of a gloomy day to come back from Spring break and back to school and work. I didn't mind going back to my crazy Spanish Spaceship, but I just had a lot of mixed emotions upon waking and deleting text messages, and no milk to have cereal. My life isn't hard, but I just love to self-pity on the bus. I love to romanticize things that have long been dead, while listening to Fiona, or Bob Dylan, or This American Life, or the National.
I think I was also scared to go to work.
But upon arriving and finding that G was not there, things were certainly brighter. I also have tomorrow off, (due to working New Year's Eve, get a load of that...) and a date planned, and I am now finishing my editing of my paper on Carrie and her various gender problems.
Life does go on after Spring break.
and I will settle you down.
And at my own suggestion,
I will ask no questions
While I do my thing in the background
But all the time, (all the time)
I'll know.
Fiona Apple
It was kind of a gloomy day to come back from Spring break and back to school and work. I didn't mind going back to my crazy Spanish Spaceship, but I just had a lot of mixed emotions upon waking and deleting text messages, and no milk to have cereal. My life isn't hard, but I just love to self-pity on the bus. I love to romanticize things that have long been dead, while listening to Fiona, or Bob Dylan, or This American Life, or the National.
I think I was also scared to go to work.
But upon arriving and finding that G was not there, things were certainly brighter. I also have tomorrow off, (due to working New Year's Eve, get a load of that...) and a date planned, and I am now finishing my editing of my paper on Carrie and her various gender problems.
Life does go on after Spring break.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Two Bryan quotes
"I thought you were going to be a big, fat, bald guy with a beard."
- said to me as I walked into his house (he thought I was going to be his dad)
and
"They couldn't bring sexy back, because it never even left."
- on Scarlett Johansson and Ryan Reynolds splitting up
I'm too tired from decadence to really say much more right now.
Spring break has been one big sleep-in/Rocky Road/eating out/TV and movie fest. Sprinkled with lame work-out video sessions. Three days in, and I still haven't started my paper. But! I haven't been drinking either.
I'll tell you what, though. Being a nobody is restful.
"I thought you were going to be a big, fat, bald guy with a beard."
- said to me as I walked into his house (he thought I was going to be his dad)
and
"They couldn't bring sexy back, because it never even left."
- on Scarlett Johansson and Ryan Reynolds splitting up
I'm too tired from decadence to really say much more right now.
Spring break has been one big sleep-in/Rocky Road/eating out/TV and movie fest. Sprinkled with lame work-out video sessions. Three days in, and I still haven't started my paper. But! I haven't been drinking either.
I'll tell you what, though. Being a nobody is restful.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Staycation.
I'm technically in Iowa today. But I'm actually in Utah. I ended up playing video games, working out, drinking three or four cups of Tribute Blend which Philip has been bringing home from work. I finally hit the point where I can start enjoying Starbucks again. (5 months, 13 days) After several jumping-jack/Jillian Michaels inflicted injuries, I became subdued enough to meet Celisse for another fancy dinner at "Fancy Restaurant". I got the pumpkin risotto again, because I have been having daydreams about it for weeks.
And none of this happened in Iowa.
I looked at Celisse in the light of the 7 Eleven and I said to her, "I am having a really nice time."
And she said, "I am too."
We watched a movie and ate Rocky Road by Breyers. I don't even like ice cream unless it's soft serve, but this ice cream is good.
I will start my Horror Gender paper tomorrow, I am hoping.
I feel like a bum.
But when I wake up, everything feels too good to be true. But there is a place out there that will give you free underwear of good quality every few months. And this is a reason to stay in America.
"Please forgive me for my sins. Yes I swam dirty waters, but you pushed me in."
-Adele
I'm technically in Iowa today. But I'm actually in Utah. I ended up playing video games, working out, drinking three or four cups of Tribute Blend which Philip has been bringing home from work. I finally hit the point where I can start enjoying Starbucks again. (5 months, 13 days) After several jumping-jack/Jillian Michaels inflicted injuries, I became subdued enough to meet Celisse for another fancy dinner at "Fancy Restaurant". I got the pumpkin risotto again, because I have been having daydreams about it for weeks.
And none of this happened in Iowa.
I looked at Celisse in the light of the 7 Eleven and I said to her, "I am having a really nice time."
And she said, "I am too."
We watched a movie and ate Rocky Road by Breyers. I don't even like ice cream unless it's soft serve, but this ice cream is good.
I will start my Horror Gender paper tomorrow, I am hoping.
I feel like a bum.
But when I wake up, everything feels too good to be true. But there is a place out there that will give you free underwear of good quality every few months. And this is a reason to stay in America.
"Please forgive me for my sins. Yes I swam dirty waters, but you pushed me in."
-Adele
Monday, March 21, 2011
on sitting in a Harmon's parking lot after a long day.
I let the setting sun light my pages, and read until the street lamps came on. I'm not trying to be poetic, I was just killing time waiting for Celisse to get off work. Numbers is not really poetic. It's kind of graphic though. God just swallowed some dudes up into the earth. And all their stuff. No big deal. And I was like, Whoa God. I'm going to try to not make You that mad at me.
I haven't had an alcoholic beverage in 8 days. I quit out of frugality, mostly, and in hopes of losing weight faster. I haven't really noticed a difference, but I'm a little more awake at night to get stuff done.
Out here, it gets to be that everyone is celebrating, all the time. Which is not bad, to celebrate. But we're all spending too much money on eating out, or bottles of Sailor Jerry. In these United States, we are constantly hosting these holidays. Or I mean, looking for holidays. I feel, anymore, like I don't even have time to prepare because of the frequency of these holidays.
I should have read one of Joyce's Dubliners stories for St. Patrick's day.
I should have sent out more Valentines.
I meant to give something up for lent (I always do), but here I am, still finding myself with a mouth full of Girl Scout cookies every time the phone rings.
And I can't really remember what the Cinco de Mayo is celebrating, but I want to be there. I mostly want to be eating Mexican food and I even want to make it to throw colors this year for Holi. I want to do this kind of partying more than the Don Draper kind of partying, I tell myself.
But in that parking lot, I realized how fast time flew by today.
Life is so short and painful, and fascinating.
I can't wait to meet Jesus and see all the puzzle pieces put together, and feel real love.
I let the setting sun light my pages, and read until the street lamps came on. I'm not trying to be poetic, I was just killing time waiting for Celisse to get off work. Numbers is not really poetic. It's kind of graphic though. God just swallowed some dudes up into the earth. And all their stuff. No big deal. And I was like, Whoa God. I'm going to try to not make You that mad at me.
I haven't had an alcoholic beverage in 8 days. I quit out of frugality, mostly, and in hopes of losing weight faster. I haven't really noticed a difference, but I'm a little more awake at night to get stuff done.
Out here, it gets to be that everyone is celebrating, all the time. Which is not bad, to celebrate. But we're all spending too much money on eating out, or bottles of Sailor Jerry. In these United States, we are constantly hosting these holidays. Or I mean, looking for holidays. I feel, anymore, like I don't even have time to prepare because of the frequency of these holidays.
I should have read one of Joyce's Dubliners stories for St. Patrick's day.
I should have sent out more Valentines.
I meant to give something up for lent (I always do), but here I am, still finding myself with a mouth full of Girl Scout cookies every time the phone rings.
And I can't really remember what the Cinco de Mayo is celebrating, but I want to be there. I mostly want to be eating Mexican food and I even want to make it to throw colors this year for Holi. I want to do this kind of partying more than the Don Draper kind of partying, I tell myself.
But in that parking lot, I realized how fast time flew by today.
Life is so short and painful, and fascinating.
I can't wait to meet Jesus and see all the puzzle pieces put together, and feel real love.
Monday, March 14, 2011
a tired hello
This is the first year I've actually liked the Daylight Savings Switch.
At Starbucks, I never worked past 3pm, so the light didn't matter. But now, when it's five o clock, and it looks like 3pm, that is a pretty cool thing.
Everything is becoming very real, now.
I'm missing some clients. I'm missing some coworkers.
I'm trying to think how to tell G without being rude, but also to let her know I have valid reasons for leaving.
I'm trying to figure out what a month away from my Utah family (blood and brethren) will feel like.
It's big. It's scary in a breathtaking way.
I listen to the clock tick at night.
My God, who is so much bigger than I am, please make my seconds count.
"I need you so much closer."
-DCFC
This is the first year I've actually liked the Daylight Savings Switch.
At Starbucks, I never worked past 3pm, so the light didn't matter. But now, when it's five o clock, and it looks like 3pm, that is a pretty cool thing.
Everything is becoming very real, now.
I'm missing some clients. I'm missing some coworkers.
I'm trying to think how to tell G without being rude, but also to let her know I have valid reasons for leaving.
I'm trying to figure out what a month away from my Utah family (blood and brethren) will feel like.
It's big. It's scary in a breathtaking way.
I listen to the clock tick at night.
My God, who is so much bigger than I am, please make my seconds count.
"I need you so much closer."
-DCFC
Thursday, March 10, 2011
you spill jack and coke on my collar. I melt like a witch and scream
I'm so sorry for everything.
-The National
I have the bad feeling in my gut. The kind like you get during a horror movie. I found a huge mistake that I think is my fault, at work, at the end of the day. And so what do I do? I leave it for tomorrow because there are a thousand other problems on my desk to fix before six.
I don't want to have a desk anymore.
I don't want the water-cooler-office thing anymore. I don't want the men coming in, and being grateful that they got in my line. I don't want to make anymore calls to people who don't want to hear from me.
But I am going to make this work as long as I can. Because in the end, my reward is this.
I'm so sorry for everything.
-The National
I have the bad feeling in my gut. The kind like you get during a horror movie. I found a huge mistake that I think is my fault, at work, at the end of the day. And so what do I do? I leave it for tomorrow because there are a thousand other problems on my desk to fix before six.
I don't want to have a desk anymore.
I don't want the water-cooler-office thing anymore. I don't want the men coming in, and being grateful that they got in my line. I don't want to make anymore calls to people who don't want to hear from me.
But I am going to make this work as long as I can. Because in the end, my reward is this.
Which is better than........anything.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
I just watched The Social Network since I had the afternoon off of work, and can I tell you
I wish that college was really like that.
I mean I know that college is really like that somewhere, but I wish I'd gotten to be that somewhere. In really old dorm buildings. The kind with old doorknobs. To have fellow students who were trying to live up to the name of the college.
I sat there thinking, that maybe if I'd gotten to live my life over again, or at least the past four years, I might have taken out loans and gone somewhere really great. Not worked my way through.
I guess God's idea was for me to stay here, and go to a suitcase college. But I know it also means He can pick me up and move me somewhere else just as easily.
I imagine Him doing it with tweezers, like on Roller Coaster Tycoon. Except, hopefully he doesn't drop me in a lake, like I would do with my park visitors. I'd be liable to drown.
I wish that college was really like that.
I mean I know that college is really like that somewhere, but I wish I'd gotten to be that somewhere. In really old dorm buildings. The kind with old doorknobs. To have fellow students who were trying to live up to the name of the college.
I sat there thinking, that maybe if I'd gotten to live my life over again, or at least the past four years, I might have taken out loans and gone somewhere really great. Not worked my way through.
I guess God's idea was for me to stay here, and go to a suitcase college. But I know it also means He can pick me up and move me somewhere else just as easily.
I imagine Him doing it with tweezers, like on Roller Coaster Tycoon. Except, hopefully he doesn't drop me in a lake, like I would do with my park visitors. I'd be liable to drown.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Do you ever have those moments, when your friend remembers something really YOU, about you, and you didn't think she/he would, but then it just popped out of their mouth in front of your other friends?
And then you realize why you always forgive them for the bad crap they do to you.
And then there is love in your heart.
And then you realize why you always forgive them for the bad crap they do to you.
And then there is love in your heart.
Friday, March 04, 2011
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's Farm no more.
By Friday, I'm usually so exhausted that my steering wheel directs me home instead of anywhere I probably should be.
I should get out more, for single-white-female-age-twenty-two. Oscar says, "Come dance with me." And it was like, when did you come to know my name so well? I should be at Alison's birthday party. I should have multiplied my time.
But instead, I pour myself a drink, eat my sisters' home made soup and lobster shaped biscuits, and watch Drunk History with Philip. My phone turns itself off, as it permits itself to do because it is old.
I find myself, here, Sharon. Admitting these things to you.
I admit that the admirers I took in my youth are married and are having children now.
I admit that I rub my arms on perfume samples in magazines, sometimes.
I admit to avoiding going out because of the rising prices of fuel.
I admit that I have dreams involving Fred Armisen showing up to church more than fortnightly.
And I admit that I will never buy a Mac because I am too old to bend to change, and too lazy to learn other technology.
And the thing I can never admit to the hipsters is that: I took a shower every day this week.
Forgive me Sharon. I should keep these things to myself.
By Friday, I'm usually so exhausted that my steering wheel directs me home instead of anywhere I probably should be.
I should get out more, for single-white-female-age-twenty-two. Oscar says, "Come dance with me." And it was like, when did you come to know my name so well? I should be at Alison's birthday party. I should have multiplied my time.
But instead, I pour myself a drink, eat my sisters' home made soup and lobster shaped biscuits, and watch Drunk History with Philip. My phone turns itself off, as it permits itself to do because it is old.
I find myself, here, Sharon. Admitting these things to you.
I admit that the admirers I took in my youth are married and are having children now.
I admit that I rub my arms on perfume samples in magazines, sometimes.
I admit to avoiding going out because of the rising prices of fuel.
I admit that I have dreams involving Fred Armisen showing up to church more than fortnightly.
And I admit that I will never buy a Mac because I am too old to bend to change, and too lazy to learn other technology.
And the thing I can never admit to the hipsters is that: I took a shower every day this week.
Forgive me Sharon. I should keep these things to myself.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
where.but.for.the.grace.of.God.go.I.
One thing about worry is, that if you really never worried, you would lose that high--the rush--when all your fears are relieved.
Last night, after working with my Spanish partner via Google Chat to work out what we thought we'd do in our reviews this morning, I'm like, oh my gosh. we are going to fail. But then I couldn't find my bus pass card, and I worried about it til I fell asleep, and then when my alarm went off this morning, I hit snooze, and the first thing I was thinking was what I was going to say to the bus driver, and I have no idea how to actually pay for bus fare, and get transfer tickets and all that because students tap on and tap off.
BUT I found the pass in my jeans pocket, which I had already checked last night. I even caught the early bus and had time to rehearse my questions and answers in Spanish before my partner got there and I felt pretty good about it after it was over.
I started jumping up and down in front of the library, and Ashley just laughed. She doesn't understand relief. She is a med student. There is always another test to take.
And Wednesday is my comp-day so I don't have to work. I got home, ate Reese's cereal and drank coffee and ate a whole pound of strawberries and watched Be Kind Rewind. It was pretty cute.
Then I watched a couple episodes of You're Cut Off and went to the gym.
I am extremely happy. God is good. I'm starting to unwind from all of the running around. I feel ridiculously blessed.
One thing about worry is, that if you really never worried, you would lose that high--the rush--when all your fears are relieved.
Last night, after working with my Spanish partner via Google Chat to work out what we thought we'd do in our reviews this morning, I'm like, oh my gosh. we are going to fail. But then I couldn't find my bus pass card, and I worried about it til I fell asleep, and then when my alarm went off this morning, I hit snooze, and the first thing I was thinking was what I was going to say to the bus driver, and I have no idea how to actually pay for bus fare, and get transfer tickets and all that because students tap on and tap off.
BUT I found the pass in my jeans pocket, which I had already checked last night. I even caught the early bus and had time to rehearse my questions and answers in Spanish before my partner got there and I felt pretty good about it after it was over.
I started jumping up and down in front of the library, and Ashley just laughed. She doesn't understand relief. She is a med student. There is always another test to take.
And Wednesday is my comp-day so I don't have to work. I got home, ate Reese's cereal and drank coffee and ate a whole pound of strawberries and watched Be Kind Rewind. It was pretty cute.
Then I watched a couple episodes of You're Cut Off and went to the gym.
I am extremely happy. God is good. I'm starting to unwind from all of the running around. I feel ridiculously blessed.
Monday, February 28, 2011
When you get back, there will still be soap suds in the sink. The oven will still smell like taquitos. The light bulbs will still be warm.
But I won't be here.
My perfume might still linger in the air. I might even leave a glass of water sitting on a desktop.
Goodbye bowl. Goodbye brush. Goodbye bowl, full of mush.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
On Children
I don't really spend that much time with Children who are older than one. As in, Children who can talk.
The other night I went to spend a couple hours with Celisse while she was babysitting Olivia. I'd heard a lot about Olivia. She is a very precocious three year old. It's like she is a very small, normal person, but she is really three. My favorite Olivia-ism is that she always says. "Well you can if you want to, but if you don't want to that's okay too." Also she calls her mom "Mother" which is a very foreign thing.
But the next day, I had a weirder encounter. Kylie told me that a kid might come over and knock on the door, but that I didn't have to answer it. And I didn't think this would actually happen.
Daisy started barking, and was clearly looking at someone who would be at the front door, so I looked out the window, and down on the porch was a young boy who was knocking softly on the door.
Then he was banging on the door. I couldn't ignore him, because there were lights obviously on, and my car was in the driveway.
I cracked open the door.
"Hello?" I said, into the one inch of open space, where he was looking at me, shyly.
"Hi."
"They're not here," I said. Because I didn't know what else to say.
"That's okay, they told me they'd be gone."
And I waited for him to state his name and purpose.
.
..
...
"They told me I could come in and pet the dog."
I thought about saying sorry, and please come back another time, but it struck me how lonely he must be to come over and have his excuse to come in be that he wanted to pet the dog.
"Okay." I said. And I opened the door and let him in, and I just sat on the steps and wondered what to do. I thought to say, Sorry I'm not wearing real pants. Or, Would you like a cookie, or something. But some people wear leggings as pants, and he shouldn't know the difference. Also offering a cookie would extend this awkward visit.
"How old are you," he asks, trying not to look at me, but also trying to see what I looked like.
"Twenty-two." I said.
"Oh you are old. You are thirteen years older than me." He immediately calculated.
"How old are you?" I asked, not immediately calculating.
"Nine."
Somehow I didn't believe him.
"My birthday was September 11, 2001." He said.
"What?"
"September 11, 2001. The day the twin towers fell."
"Oh my gosh."
"Yeah," he said. Still trying not to look at me. "They told me you'd be a kid."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. I guess they were wrong." He said. I didn't try to explain to him that kids can't drive to other people's houses and stay the night by themselves. He thought I'd be a kid who would want to play guns or Xbox or something.
I silently sat there, watching him pet the dog, who was enjoying the attention.
"Okay, I guess I should go now." He said, and walked out the door.
"It was nice to meet you," I said, and locked the door behind him, and then ran up to the window to watch where he would go.
He looked around the neighborhood for a heavy moment. Just spacing out. And then he picked up some snow and turned it into a snowball. I felt weird to keep watching him, and went to finish lunch.
I thought about how many hundreds or thousands of people out there are really lonely. Maybe there is even another person in this neighborhood who is lonely.
But it's kind of reassuring to me that kids can still do weird stuff, like we did in the 90's. That he could just walk up to the house and start knocking.
I don't really spend that much time with Children who are older than one. As in, Children who can talk.
The other night I went to spend a couple hours with Celisse while she was babysitting Olivia. I'd heard a lot about Olivia. She is a very precocious three year old. It's like she is a very small, normal person, but she is really three. My favorite Olivia-ism is that she always says. "Well you can if you want to, but if you don't want to that's okay too." Also she calls her mom "Mother" which is a very foreign thing.
But the next day, I had a weirder encounter. Kylie told me that a kid might come over and knock on the door, but that I didn't have to answer it. And I didn't think this would actually happen.
Daisy started barking, and was clearly looking at someone who would be at the front door, so I looked out the window, and down on the porch was a young boy who was knocking softly on the door.
Then he was banging on the door. I couldn't ignore him, because there were lights obviously on, and my car was in the driveway.
I cracked open the door.
"Hello?" I said, into the one inch of open space, where he was looking at me, shyly.
"Hi."
"They're not here," I said. Because I didn't know what else to say.
"That's okay, they told me they'd be gone."
And I waited for him to state his name and purpose.
.
..
...
"They told me I could come in and pet the dog."
I thought about saying sorry, and please come back another time, but it struck me how lonely he must be to come over and have his excuse to come in be that he wanted to pet the dog.
"Okay." I said. And I opened the door and let him in, and I just sat on the steps and wondered what to do. I thought to say, Sorry I'm not wearing real pants. Or, Would you like a cookie, or something. But some people wear leggings as pants, and he shouldn't know the difference. Also offering a cookie would extend this awkward visit.
"How old are you," he asks, trying not to look at me, but also trying to see what I looked like.
"Twenty-two." I said.
"Oh you are old. You are thirteen years older than me." He immediately calculated.
"How old are you?" I asked, not immediately calculating.
"Nine."
Somehow I didn't believe him.
"My birthday was September 11, 2001." He said.
"What?"
"September 11, 2001. The day the twin towers fell."
"Oh my gosh."
"Yeah," he said. Still trying not to look at me. "They told me you'd be a kid."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. I guess they were wrong." He said. I didn't try to explain to him that kids can't drive to other people's houses and stay the night by themselves. He thought I'd be a kid who would want to play guns or Xbox or something.
I silently sat there, watching him pet the dog, who was enjoying the attention.
"Okay, I guess I should go now." He said, and walked out the door.
"It was nice to meet you," I said, and locked the door behind him, and then ran up to the window to watch where he would go.
He looked around the neighborhood for a heavy moment. Just spacing out. And then he picked up some snow and turned it into a snowball. I felt weird to keep watching him, and went to finish lunch.
I thought about how many hundreds or thousands of people out there are really lonely. Maybe there is even another person in this neighborhood who is lonely.
But it's kind of reassuring to me that kids can still do weird stuff, like we did in the 90's. That he could just walk up to the house and start knocking.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
If you are going through hell, keep going. - Winston Churchill
I walk much. I walk in the cold. I walk the dog. This is not the exercise I am used to. This is not squats, push-ups, crunches, lifting, or even really strenuous cardio.
Today I admit that being a college student is killing me right now. Or rather, being a college student who works as well. Everyday with the Spanish, and the traveling.
I am a full-time traveler. I have to plan my whole day and carry along other outfits, pack food, stash second pairs of shoes, make sure I am in the right car for the day. Catch the buses. Try not to over or under-eat. Try to drink enough water but also worry about when I will be able/allowed to go to the bathroom. Wear leggings under my pants. Live at different houses, try to remember where I am going to shower, and how to set my alarm clock.
I get just plain mad at people who don't have to do this like me.
But then I remember I signed up for it, and that I get bored when I am not doing it. But I can't wait for Spring Break.
And I wish I could get their TV to work, here, so I could turn off my brain for a minute.
I walk much. I walk in the cold. I walk the dog. This is not the exercise I am used to. This is not squats, push-ups, crunches, lifting, or even really strenuous cardio.
Today I admit that being a college student is killing me right now. Or rather, being a college student who works as well. Everyday with the Spanish, and the traveling.
I am a full-time traveler. I have to plan my whole day and carry along other outfits, pack food, stash second pairs of shoes, make sure I am in the right car for the day. Catch the buses. Try not to over or under-eat. Try to drink enough water but also worry about when I will be able/allowed to go to the bathroom. Wear leggings under my pants. Live at different houses, try to remember where I am going to shower, and how to set my alarm clock.
I get just plain mad at people who don't have to do this like me.
But then I remember I signed up for it, and that I get bored when I am not doing it. But I can't wait for Spring Break.
And I wish I could get their TV to work, here, so I could turn off my brain for a minute.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I am learning
That if my brain is tired enough, it will just start to spit the Spanish out.
My life is a weird thing of going to Spanish everyday, and right now I am thinking of it like a spaceship and I show up there, and we all get in the spaceship and speak another language the whole time, and I like everyone there. I like that there is a med student who looks at me like I am a million bucks every morning, even when I don't wear make-up, or I am wearing weird clothes and tennis shoes. I like that I have girlfriends, and that I can rely on them to be my spanish speaking companions. I like that I can eat my PB&J and they don't care. I like that my teacher barely has any accent, so I can understand her Spanish in increasing amounts. I like that it is only an hour.
I travel approximately 8 hours a week because of the Spanish schedule. And every night I do the Spanish homework. I am a slave to spanish.
I am knowing too much about Hugo Chavez than I ever wanted to.
I am delirious and my knee hurts from crashing in front of the hipsters, still.
And my hair got shorter. And I am living with a dog who is really nice. She doesn't poop on the floor, and she doesn't even bark at me.
That if my brain is tired enough, it will just start to spit the Spanish out.
My life is a weird thing of going to Spanish everyday, and right now I am thinking of it like a spaceship and I show up there, and we all get in the spaceship and speak another language the whole time, and I like everyone there. I like that there is a med student who looks at me like I am a million bucks every morning, even when I don't wear make-up, or I am wearing weird clothes and tennis shoes. I like that I have girlfriends, and that I can rely on them to be my spanish speaking companions. I like that I can eat my PB&J and they don't care. I like that my teacher barely has any accent, so I can understand her Spanish in increasing amounts. I like that it is only an hour.
I travel approximately 8 hours a week because of the Spanish schedule. And every night I do the Spanish homework. I am a slave to spanish.
I am knowing too much about Hugo Chavez than I ever wanted to.
I am delirious and my knee hurts from crashing in front of the hipsters, still.
And my hair got shorter. And I am living with a dog who is really nice. She doesn't poop on the floor, and she doesn't even bark at me.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Live from New York, it's Saturday NIGHT!!
I've been watching old episodes of SNL from 1975, their first season. It started when I was looking at Chevy Chase's filmography, because I am so repulsed by him in Community. Who knew what it was going to become. The tradition.
And Chevy Chase used to be so handsome.
But as I continued to watch (I've been watching old and new episodes for about...hmmm...four hours) I started to Google each of the old actors, wondering what they were up to these days, and why the propulsion of SNL had not kept them classical. A lot of the actors and singers have died. John Belushi, Gilda Radner, Andy Kaufman, Madeleine Kahn, George Carlin. Just some of them that I Googled out of two episodes.
Watching the old tapes was like...historical. It made my mortality so real to me, all of the sudden. If those guys could die in their thirties and forties and early fifties, then it can happen to me. It could happen to Andy Samberg. It could happen to Will Ferrel, or Bill Hader, or God forbid...Kristen Wiig.
And if I don't die young from ovarian cancer like Radner and Kahn, then I will grow old enough for my looks to fade like Chevy's.
Such is life. So it goes.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
I don't know if I'm even a borderline feminist anymore.
I realized this when I was listening to "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake and he says, "Let me make up for the things you lack." And I was like, Hmmm. If I was still a feminist, this sentence would bother me for reasons X, Y, and Z. (I mean it is a pretty loaded sentence, Freud would say.) But it didn't bother me. It just made me want to dance.
I still have two more days left of weekend, which is amazing. Thanks, Presidents.
Last night I laughed harder than I can remember happening for a long, long time.
Life goes on.
I realized this when I was listening to "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake and he says, "Let me make up for the things you lack." And I was like, Hmmm. If I was still a feminist, this sentence would bother me for reasons X, Y, and Z. (I mean it is a pretty loaded sentence, Freud would say.) But it didn't bother me. It just made me want to dance.
I still have two more days left of weekend, which is amazing. Thanks, Presidents.
Last night I laughed harder than I can remember happening for a long, long time.
Life goes on.
Monday, February 14, 2011
"Who won Best-in-Show?"
"I don't know."
"Wait a minute, you've been watching people walk their dogs for four hours? You guys are like the sophisticated rednecks watching NASCAR."
-Philip talking to my mom, with love
I think a lot of people were sad it was Valentine's day today. I don't really mind, but when I got on my bus, I could tell something was off. I said hello to my favorite bus driver who LOVES to talk so much that it usually holds up the bus, and he didn't say anything in return.
But then on the way home, I was finished with This American Life's episode/podcast called "Tough Room" and the last part was about people who cry on airplanes by accident, watching Freaky Friday or AMEX commercials. And I thought, that's funny. Must be something about the altitude. But I remembered that sometimes I do this suddenly on public transportation. Always on airplanes, because I'm leaving the midwest, but sometimes by accident I do it on the bus. And then this blind guy got on the bus, and the driver was giving him verbal instructions on where there was an open spot. And I just burst into tears, and had to hold back my sobs. And like the blind guy cared. He didn't. He put on his headphones, and I was compelled not to take my eyes off of him. When the bus would slow down, he would take off the headphones to hear if the woman who lives in the speakers would say it was his stop. And I wanted to spend the whole day with him, but I couldn't.
A lot of old single guys who came into the bank were sad too. Really nice guys with tired faces, that I had never before noticed them not being married. But you know what? They're going to keep going. It's not that big of a deal in the end.
Even Richie was married once, and he screwed that up.
And then he was hitting on 17 year old girls, and that's just not cool. Not for a strange milkman. He is one person I don't mind not seeing at 5am. But I do miss grumpy old guy.
Now I'm just rambling about old guys. Crap.
I guess they're the ones I worry about. They don't know how to take care of themselves if they don't got no woman anymore.
"I don't know."
"Wait a minute, you've been watching people walk their dogs for four hours? You guys are like the sophisticated rednecks watching NASCAR."
-Philip talking to my mom, with love
I think a lot of people were sad it was Valentine's day today. I don't really mind, but when I got on my bus, I could tell something was off. I said hello to my favorite bus driver who LOVES to talk so much that it usually holds up the bus, and he didn't say anything in return.
But then on the way home, I was finished with This American Life's episode/podcast called "Tough Room" and the last part was about people who cry on airplanes by accident, watching Freaky Friday or AMEX commercials. And I thought, that's funny. Must be something about the altitude. But I remembered that sometimes I do this suddenly on public transportation. Always on airplanes, because I'm leaving the midwest, but sometimes by accident I do it on the bus. And then this blind guy got on the bus, and the driver was giving him verbal instructions on where there was an open spot. And I just burst into tears, and had to hold back my sobs. And like the blind guy cared. He didn't. He put on his headphones, and I was compelled not to take my eyes off of him. When the bus would slow down, he would take off the headphones to hear if the woman who lives in the speakers would say it was his stop. And I wanted to spend the whole day with him, but I couldn't.
A lot of old single guys who came into the bank were sad too. Really nice guys with tired faces, that I had never before noticed them not being married. But you know what? They're going to keep going. It's not that big of a deal in the end.
Even Richie was married once, and he screwed that up.
And then he was hitting on 17 year old girls, and that's just not cool. Not for a strange milkman. He is one person I don't mind not seeing at 5am. But I do miss grumpy old guy.
Now I'm just rambling about old guys. Crap.
I guess they're the ones I worry about. They don't know how to take care of themselves if they don't got no woman anymore.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
"Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted."
John Lennon
I think about this during the weekend. Not that I feel I waste a lot of time, but when I am not being extremely productive, I am at least recovering from the week.
Weekend thoughts.
I like to wake up at the Edwards'. I like to wake up anywhere I do not have to say "Good morning." I hate to say good morning. It's like you don't know where you stand with a person, that between sleeping a few hours, you can't just start off a new conversation where you left it.
I watched Cat People which was more progressive than Dracula or Bride of Frankenstein. They mention divorce. They show a woman's shoulders and bare-back. There is a man-scream. I watched this movie instead of writing my paper which is due on Tuesday. I have an outline, and a thesis, and I owe Dr. Smith four more pages than that.
I don't know why I took another Gender class. It is more fun to write about Gender when you are in an ordinary English class. You sound smarter.
But now I read these articles, and I can't take it as seriously as I did when I was 19. I got more fired up about injustices when I was 19. But now it's a stretch. I will do my best.
AND. The weather was beautiful today. I wish I could put a lock on it, and have it be this way every day of the year. Snow on the mountains, slightly warm, but you know it will be cold at night. T-shirts and clean cars. Clean air.
I have become an OPTIMISTIC person.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
E. E. Cummings
Judy is in the hospital still, but doing a lot better. I wish I was there now, but I still have 37 days. (I know you think I count a lot, but I have a Google counter app on my home page, so I can't help it. I like to know when exactly I am done waiting for things. Especially Jillian Michaels workouts, I watch the minutes on the DVD player so I know exactly how much longer I have of getting my butt kicked)
So this is the Valentine I made. This is the only time of year you will see me get Romantic, I hope.
And here is a toast to new beginnings. I'm going to record everything G. says from here on out, so that Tanya and I can prove we are not crazy. And I applied for 3 jobs last night, instead of drinking away my troubles. Because otherwise, G. wins. And I will not be taken down so easily.
Monday, February 07, 2011
I promised to my wife and children: I'd never touch another drink as long as I live. But even then, it sounds so soothing, to mix a gin and sink into oblivion... (Coldwar Kids)
I watched The Bride of Frankenstein last night, and they finished making the girl monster, and she hated the other monster. And I was like, seriously girl? He's kind of cute.
I wish they would do a remake and follow the book more closely.
But after that I watched the ABBA movie with my dad and Philip, for some reason, and it made me love to live here. I have the good life.
I watched The Bride of Frankenstein last night, and they finished making the girl monster, and she hated the other monster. And I was like, seriously girl? He's kind of cute.
I wish they would do a remake and follow the book more closely.
But after that I watched the ABBA movie with my dad and Philip, for some reason, and it made me love to live here. I have the good life.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
My grandma is in the hospital right now. She's not doing so hot, so if you could shoot a prayer up for her, that would be awesome. Her name is Judy, and she is the brightest sunshine in my life. (And I don't take superlatives lightly.)
It's a hard time for us to not be there right now. But our family... we always try to find the humor. And humor can make anything bearable for a few minutes.
My aunt is sending us text messages of the things Judy is saying on drugs.
"I'm in so much pain but I don't know who is responsible. Probably Karen Ritchie. Shouldn't say that too loud."
My dad says Karen Ritchie is someone who went to their Lutheran church in the 70's. Nobody has seen her in 25 years.
A nice thing is that God lets us take things one day at a time. I think Abe Lincoln said that, but I can't be sure.
"Mom thinks she is at church and wants to leave. Wonders if there are underpants on the floor."
It's a hard time for us to not be there right now. But our family... we always try to find the humor. And humor can make anything bearable for a few minutes.
My aunt is sending us text messages of the things Judy is saying on drugs.
"I'm in so much pain but I don't know who is responsible. Probably Karen Ritchie. Shouldn't say that too loud."
My dad says Karen Ritchie is someone who went to their Lutheran church in the 70's. Nobody has seen her in 25 years.
A nice thing is that God lets us take things one day at a time. I think Abe Lincoln said that, but I can't be sure.
"Mom thinks she is at church and wants to leave. Wonders if there are underpants on the floor."
Thursday, February 03, 2011
a lovely time
Today I had, what resembled a vacation, for 6 or more hours. After classes this morning I went with Celisse for a sushi lunch with a Groupon. So cheap! And then watched TV all day long, pausing only to get snacks from the store.
What a good break from the stress. I've left my phone at Celisse's house, which I might not have back for several days, depending on how lazy I am tomorrow night. So I am really going 1960's for a little while.
But a bad idea was putting a bunch of corn meal in my hair. This website said it was a good idea for dry shampoo, but I think every dry shampoo was invented for blonds, because now my hair is white.
Good night, Nurse.
Today I had, what resembled a vacation, for 6 or more hours. After classes this morning I went with Celisse for a sushi lunch with a Groupon. So cheap! And then watched TV all day long, pausing only to get snacks from the store.
What a good break from the stress. I've left my phone at Celisse's house, which I might not have back for several days, depending on how lazy I am tomorrow night. So I am really going 1960's for a little while.
But a bad idea was putting a bunch of corn meal in my hair. This website said it was a good idea for dry shampoo, but I think every dry shampoo was invented for blonds, because now my hair is white.
Good night, Nurse.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down
I have these momements, at the bank, when I look around and say, "How did I get here?" Like the Talking Heads' song. Except I don't say, "This is not my beautiful wife." But it feels very surreal. The same thing used to happen to me at Starbucks, when I would think I was playing store, like when you are a little kid.
But more, at the bank, I walk past the water cooler, or stare at the commerce of the town I am working in, and I think, how did I get here? How did I come to be working in a place with a water cooler?
And when I sit at my desk and try to think what my job would want me to be doing, it is surreal that this is the thing I do to make money show up in my bank account every two weeks. I sure do work, but then there are times that are slow, and I just stare off into space because it makes me feel a lot less guilty than if I were to surf the internet.
And with each disdainful look she gives me, I know my days are numbered. She has no reason to fire me, but I am getting few reasons to stay.
I have these momements, at the bank, when I look around and say, "How did I get here?" Like the Talking Heads' song. Except I don't say, "This is not my beautiful wife." But it feels very surreal. The same thing used to happen to me at Starbucks, when I would think I was playing store, like when you are a little kid.
But more, at the bank, I walk past the water cooler, or stare at the commerce of the town I am working in, and I think, how did I get here? How did I come to be working in a place with a water cooler?
And when I sit at my desk and try to think what my job would want me to be doing, it is surreal that this is the thing I do to make money show up in my bank account every two weeks. I sure do work, but then there are times that are slow, and I just stare off into space because it makes me feel a lot less guilty than if I were to surf the internet.
And with each disdainful look she gives me, I know my days are numbered. She has no reason to fire me, but I am getting few reasons to stay.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Frankenstein was good. Read it.
I love February. I mean love it. It's the shortest month, it doesn't get sentimental with you, or drag things out. It lives fully and when it's done, it's done.
I think of February as more sunlight, but still wintry. I love the red and pink colors in every store. I love Valentine's day, simply because it is a day invented to give cards, and candy. (I love stationary. I love sending and getting mail. And I love candy) I love the colors. I like that it is a reminder to tell your honey that you love them before the earth warms up. It's Celisse's birthday, too. I never got depressed about Valentine's day when I haven't been having a boyfriend. It's just fun.
Today was just about the coldest day I've ever been in Utah. And I forgot to wear long-johns. But the cold is still beating the hot any day.
I don't know why I keep using the present progressive, but it probably has something to do with Spanish. And that I feel free to do anything I want right now.
And what I'm wanting....is the progressive.
I love February. I mean love it. It's the shortest month, it doesn't get sentimental with you, or drag things out. It lives fully and when it's done, it's done.
I think of February as more sunlight, but still wintry. I love the red and pink colors in every store. I love Valentine's day, simply because it is a day invented to give cards, and candy. (I love stationary. I love sending and getting mail. And I love candy) I love the colors. I like that it is a reminder to tell your honey that you love them before the earth warms up. It's Celisse's birthday, too. I never got depressed about Valentine's day when I haven't been having a boyfriend. It's just fun.
Today was just about the coldest day I've ever been in Utah. And I forgot to wear long-johns. But the cold is still beating the hot any day.
I don't know why I keep using the present progressive, but it probably has something to do with Spanish. And that I feel free to do anything I want right now.
And what I'm wanting....is the progressive.
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