Source: fab.com via Rachel on Pinterest

I drive in to the night, wish for b l a c k in the rearview mirror
 and b l a c k up ahead in all directions, and just my two headlights.

I am surprised most days to have lived to be this age. I never thought that I would make it. And every year it keeps being more of a surprise. And somehow the Hope doesn't die.

I have been sleeping on air mattresses for 11 days. It feels like camping. Or, sometimes the one mattress on top of the other shifts askew, and I lay there rocking, like I am on a small vessel, hoping I do not wake up rocked into the water during the night. The router for the internet blinks above my head, so sometimes it is more of a submarine, silently submerged into sleepy waters. And in here, underwater, I actually dream that you come to get me. That I would be the one you would open up the door and say Here I am.
But I also think, how did I live to be this age, and sleeping on an air mattress. And how can I think I'd be a person that you would burst down the door for.

Some things I realized this morning:

-The only place open on campus to sell me a water bottle at 6:57 a.m. is the bowling alley
-I love Crossfit more than I love sleep
-The girl that leaves my alcove in the locker room right before I get back from Crossfit (smelling like a warthog before my shower), well, she smells like vanilla and candy, and I am so thankful for her.

Roxanne: And ever since I saw that show, I've been an animal lover.
Me: Do you have a dog?
Roxanne: Yes, but I don't like it or play with it that much. It's kind of annoying.

My grandpa has a really hard time hearing, and we all speak loudly to him, which feels kind of silly, if you imagine outsiders watching you yell every little thing.


But yelling every little thing is an act of love.

And I think, looking at my parents, who are just barely greeting their early fifties, It is really hard to imagine you going slowly deaf, but I love you so much that someday I will be yelling every little thing to you, if need be.


And love is a funny thing. It hides underneath the floorboards so that at the moments you feel like you have almost nothing in common with the people you are related to, you take a step and hear it creaking beneath your foot.

Love is exhausting.

"Well, they told me I have Chronic Fatigue, but I don't necessarily believe that that is a real thing. But I have been tired lately....actually I have been really tired (for a few years). Working and going to school, and now working two jobs. But falling asleep at a party does not necessarily mean that I have Chronic Fatigue."
-Hannah. Who is darling because she is usually trying to convince herself of something as she tells you a story.

"I am like them...You ought to see...You don't know me." She hesitated and her eyes came back to him, rested abruptly on his, as though surprised at last to see him there.

"I've got a streak of what you'd call 

cheapness.

I don't know where I get it but its--oh, things like this and bright colors and gaudy vulgarity. I seem to belong here. These people could appreciate me and take me for granted, and these men would fall in love with me and admire me, whereas the clever men I meet would just analyze me and tell me I'm this

because of this

or that because of that."

The Beautiful and the Damned

F. Scott Fitzgerald

My first day of school lived up to everything I was hoping it would be.

Maybe the key to staying happy after graduation is just getting out of the house.
Crossfit was super hard. I thought the whole time it was happening that I was dying, and I was sure it was harder than childbirth without drugs. But then it was over and I was so proud of myself and today my body is made out of China and I can barely move.

It felt good to be out, and be around.

But then I did lose my brand new phone on the bus, which is unfortunate, but something that was supposed to happen for some reason or another. So for the second time in a month, I'll probably be phoneless for five days, and living  in the 60's.

I had a wonderful dinner date with Shannon. I think I probably ate about 3000 calories altogether yesterday, but woke up feeling so skinny this morning, and I'm so glad working out is finally doing something. I think it just takes a couple weeks some times.

My brain feels like it finally woke up and I feel alive again.

The Week in Quotes


"Do we have to call it blonde, or can we call it light?"
-Maddy at our staff meeting on the new blonde coffees. She used to have blonde hair, which is why it's funny to me, and also we had spent the entire meeting talking about the specific way that Sbux was rebranding their coffees

"You know, people say I need to get a human baby..."
-Nick, while looking at Tilly with fatherly love

Me: I'm thinking about whether or not I want to get a Master's.
Heather H: Oh yeah, I should get one of those.




I'm really excited and nervous to try out Crossfit tomorrow. I feel like I'm joining the army. Especially because it's so early in the morning.
I'm excited to ride the bus again.
I'm excited Dan made my 5 year old laptop run like it is brand new, on Linux, and that the WiFi started working again. He is a genius.
I'm excited that it is finally getting cold outside. I sat in the hot tub, and it was glorious.
I'm encouraged.

I say to myself, as I rub my fingerprints off in hot dish-washing water, "Don't go there. Don't think about the past, because the past will only sound sweet right now." 
I swipe the credit cards of other human beings who are hiding stuff.
They could even be hiding as much as I am, beneath the surface.
I think of men and women in other countries who will for the rest of their lives have to hide their feelings beneath the surface. In arranged marriages, in politically oppressed places, in the wilderness, in the poverty, in crappy apartments, in Cleveland, in Tokyo, in Portugal. There are other people going through what I am, and that makes me feel less alone.
There are people going through harder things than I am, and that makes me a privileged young woman.

But in the end, God is good. His grace is sufficient to get through this life, and this life will seem shorter later, when we are staring down our murderer (whether it be man, or illness, or tsunami, or vehicle moving at 72 mph) and we might wish we had eaten more donuts when we craved them or we might wish we had shared the Gospel with more people, or we might wish we had kissed our first true love. But in the end, God is still good, and that is how I sleep at night.

I keep living the same day over and over. But I saw the Moores one day in this week, and that's the only thing keeping me from blowing my brains out.

Today Megan was telling me this story of how she got a nose bleed in her car, and couldn't find any tissue anywhere.
"So I stuck a tampon up my nose to stop the bleeding," she told me. I laughed really hard and turned to Zeth.
"This is why you are gay, isn't it Zeth? Girls are so gross." And he laughed and just nodded.


I'm counting the days until school starts again. I can't pretend that my job is real life, at all.

"Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell."
-Emily Dickinson

Happy birthday, Norvelle. It cannot be too soon until we are together again.

good old babies.


My dear Bryan and Celisse had their dear baby Wesley. With every pregnancy, it is just so weird to go from seeing it as a bump, to Suddenly There Is a Baby.

"You should have a baby. Or three. It's pretty easy," Celisse told me, her usual self last night. She was referring to the epidural, not their current situation of Wesley being in the NICU. But one thing about Celisse is that she can usually see the whole picture when everyone else is running around with their hands in the air. She knows everything will be fine, and Wesley is doing better every hour, it seems like.

I worked another double yesterday. I'm pretty sad with half of my friends gone to Faithwalkers, and pretty tied down to these stupid dogs. Work almost feels like a social life, right now.

The dogs wake me up at 5am to eat, (why would anyone train their dogs to be hungry at 5am?) but as I was scooping dog food out of the big bucket on the back porch, I realized it was raining, and I sad a thank you to God for letting me be awake for it. I always have better days when I know there has been precipitation. I also took a fistful of pills because I could feel a migraine building behind my eyes.

Anyway. Rush dug herself under the porch and got stuck there. She probably wanted some time to herself. That was an adventure.
And my medicine finally kicked in and now my head feels like a balloon. I put on the saddest M. Ward CD I have, and baked a cake.

I might be wasting my winter break a little bit, but pretty soon I will be graduated and have nothing but time, and I will try to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with the time then.

A couple Tony-isms

"There were no undo's."
-Tony, on the original Photoshop

Tony: "See that is terrible advertising."
Me: "I hate Wal-Mart."
Tony: "Yeah....but they actually had a good commercial. It was when you went to the bathroom."

--------

I feel like I've been letting myself become an island. 

And it's probably time to stop doing that.

And a strange thing is waking up and not knowing where you are. It didn't happen all summer at the farm or in Iowa, or in all the houses that I've house sit for all of these months, but this morning when I woke up, I looked at the headboard of the bed I was sleeping in, and I actually thought I was on a boat. 

Two separate occasions in the night, I woke up and thought I was at sea.

It was a wonderful illusion.

the sins of a hermit


I lived without a phone for a few days this week. I killed it early Monday morning and went without it for the rest of that day. I renewed my contract with my cell service provider and they sent out a new phone, but it didn't get here until basically last night. But that's not the point of this story.

I dug up my old orange enV and got it to run enough to look at all the old things I had saved on it from two and a half years ago. All the memories came back with the saved text messages and things I'd written in my notepad. It was like a diary.

I smirked to myself that the most romantic relationship I've had in four years was my imaginary one with MK. I wrote this, when I was 19, and I'm sharing it because it is ridiculous. "I mostly figured that we were both looking at each other, in love, and that one day he would take me in his arms, and I'd be all tan and have long hair, and he'd say "This isn't going to work" but I think that when he is like, 40, and I'm also a middle-aged and famous writer after several marriages, we will bump into each other on the street in Chicago or LA or Cleveland and the age difference won't be so severe. It will be true love then, my darling."

I think I have been living on too steady a diet of Jenny Lewis, since I was sixteen. And now when I see MK smoking a cigarette at the U, or walking with other students, I still think he's a genius, but my heart doesn't stir. And perhaps he will never get interviewed by Doug Fabrizio either.

Tomorrow is my last day of living here and sleeping in all the time, and taking my meals alone and looking out over the beautiful golf course. I will miss this hideout. It would be very easy
to
become
a
recluse.

Troy: I think I'm failing psychopharmacology.
Britta: Why are you taking that?
Troy: I thought it was a class about crazy farm animals.

Community, Season 1

When I woke up this morning, my hair was a white-girl afro. I've been working on it for three days. I was going to wash it this morning, but I might just hold out. It is getting bigger and bigger the more dry shampoo I use.

I watched a few old episodes of Pushing Daisies again, and realized the show was older than I thought. Maybe it is actually Zooey Deschanel who stole style ideas from Anna Friel's character. The set design is also so beautiful. It reminds me of how I think Roald Dahl would have done it.

and...I cracked open my drawing pad last night. I need to use that part of my brain more. And I should be practicing my Spanish. I'm losing more of it every day.

I wake up with the old songs stuck in my head, and wonder where they came from.

I open my eyes and want to keep them shut the rest of the day. I think of Regina Spektor, try to make my lips move. Try to make my legs move.
"Like a soldier, one foot in front of the other."


I miss my routine, so I make coffee and slap my own face to say, "You can do this, you can pull it together for a few hours to go to work to pay your bills." 
I think that maybe it is the right time for this vacation to be almost over. Or at least, for the inversion to be over. Every time I leave the house, I say to myself that it can only last for so long.

I went back to my house tonight to eat egg rolls with Noah and my dad. Noah and I sat on laptops opposite each other, and made small comments. I listened to him hold his breath while he watched TV online, and let it back out periodically to inhale again. I thought how it was a little bit nice to have someone else in the room. We could talk or not talk for hours, the two of us.

Things will be good. I am so blessed to celebrate the birth of my Lord who saved me. Who picked me to spend eternity with Him. What a wonderful God.

sundancechannel.com

I could watch Midnight in Paris over and over, and I probably will. I'd like to see it one more time in the theater after tonight.  I have such a girl-crush on Marion Cotillard, and listening to Owen Wilson talk is like sitting with an old friend who knows all of your secrets.

I got a free bathrobe when I bought a bottle of perfume today (or yesterday, rather). It's white and fluffy, and I am make-believing that I am at a resort. 

It is not that hard.

What is hard is realizing I have to go home someday.

What is hard is realizing I'll have to go back to day-shifts again, and not sleep in til ten every morning.

A hard thing is that finals are over, and I should be eating vegetables and going to the gym again.

I'll take it one step at a time.

eventually, I will shut myself in a room and just write.


Today is not that day. Just a blog update.

I ended up having a Treat Yo Self day while I was trying to buy Christmas presents. I bought a new fragrance, a Nothing Bundt Cake, and a Chipotle burrito. I went to my local library and got the last couple Gilmore Girls episodes I haven't seen, some music, and a book that might be fun. Fun? Yes.

I got back in the car and felt ashamed. But I have a few more days to finish gifts. We're having very low key gift giving in our household this year. I think the most "Christmas Spirit" I've had so far comes from the Community Christmas episode when Shirley sings "Happy Birthday Jesus". Also, singing about the Lord at Starbucks is pretty cool too. I don't remember so many Christ-centered songs playing on the Holiday Mix in previous years.

And finally, as I sit here, I feel like there is something I need to get done, but there literally isn't.
I finished everything, and when I drove into this apartment complex this morning, I couldn't believe I wasn't catching the bus next Tuesday for class. It made me a little sad.

I talked to Judy for an hour, had a third cup of coffee, and then I vacuumed...
I think I need a project.
Ideas are brewing.

More to come.

December Finals: a love poem

Humidifier, running.
Iowa state hoodie on, reheated coffee in hand.
Pizza, toaster strudels, Starbursts

All I can see when I close my eyes is Cherrie Moraga's
Loving in the War Years
All I want is to finish the first draft so I can watch
Sunday night TV OnDemand.

Taking too many Facebook breaks
And wondering what the outside world looks like.
I will miss this too.

And now...another procastinatory blog post

My professor slid my previous paper and a grading rubric, and other notes to me across the table, and after my ten minute meeting with her, I was terrified to start this paper. She is more intense than even my Biblical Poetry professor was, and I don't want to write another canned paper for the final.

And then I realized, this is my last really analytical paper I'm probably going to be writing. Next semester I'm taking a fiction workshop, and a 2000 level Communications class, so I'm not going to have any literature or theory to pick apart.

It is very bittersweet.

I've been in college for five and a half years so far, but I never really thought that I'd see the end coming so rapidly toward me.

"Good old babies."
-Noah, commenting on Isabel's fake baby that she has to take care of this weekend that was starting to cry

I told my friend Emily a week ago, how we kind of do courtship/dating at our church. I narrowed it down to basically seeking counsel from your wiser friends, praying, and then waiting around (it's even foggy to me, sometimes, because I have screwed it up in the past). Over the last couple years she would periodically ask me if I am dating anybody yet. But yesterday as we were slowing down at work she said, "So are you consulting about any boys yet?" 

I thought it was hilarious that she got "consulting" out of seeking counsel. It's cute. And kind of right. Like you are consulting a panel of people you trust the most about whether or not you should end up with this person.

Also on the note of Starbucks friends, I was thinking today about Becka, and her huge wedding ring. She would always have these guys commenting on it when she was ringing people up in the lobby about how big it was, and how can a guy afford something like that these days. Sometimes she would say something modest, like, "It's just the lighting in here," but sometimes she would say, "Oh this? This is the one I wear to work." I laughed to myself on the bus.

I wonder which of my friends I will still be so close to when I am 30 or 40 or 50. And most of the time, I just hope it's all my same friends from now.

and so this is Tuesday

My baby iPod spit out some good things on shuffle this morning.
This is a blessing of a week. Nothing due, only three shifts at work.

Yesterday, Jayme and I spent the afternoon and most of the night drinking mimosas and watching Amelie and Arrested Development. She is watching AD for her first time, and I was mouthing all of the lines along with the characters, which surprised her. The mimosas weren't strong enough to make us silly, but just sleepy all afternoon. These are the days when I feel so overprivileged.

I need to get back to the gym. I quit caring about muscles over Thanksgiving, and I was eating nonstop tacos all the other days of the weekend. But I'm starting Crossfit in 5 weeks, and I'm terrified.

As I was sitting on the bus today, I was wondering about all the dreams I can't remember when I wake up. Wondering about the content. If they are more dreams about Jeff Bridges. Wondering where the dreams go.

I got a Twitter a few weeks ago, when I was sitting next to Matt in our story telling class, (because he basically told me I should) and while I don't fully understand it, it is kind of fun.

The phenomenon that is happening to me, is that I feel like I have friends that don't know I exist.

I forgot about my Twitter account until I was reading this girl's blog post for Hello Giggles (Annie Stamell) and she was so hilarious. It gave a link to follow her on Twitter, and then I figured out this way to get her Tweets sent to my phone. (I am living in the stone age, I do not have a smart phone. I'm trying to make my dumb phone do smart things.)

So the result is, I get her text/tweets in the middle of the night, or when I wake up in the morning, and it is kind of like having a best friend who texts me all the time, and texts me quality, funny things.



So.
I've worked 19 of the last 28 hours. Three shifts.  I think I just put mini travel shampoo on my hands thinking it was a mini travel lotion. I am very ready to go walk the dog, make some tacos, shower, and nap. The Lord is my strength. There is no other reason I could still be so happy but His love. He just keeps answering prayers, yes, and no, and maybe. He is good to me.

Anthony: One morning, over at Elizabeth's beach house, she asked me if I'd rather go water-skiing or lay out. And I realized that not only did I not want to answer THAT question, but I never wanted to answer another water-sports question, or see any of these people again for the rest of my life.

Bottle Rocket (1996)

It just never gets old for me.

Dignan: Here are just a few of the key ingredients: dynamite, pole vaulting, laughing gas, choppers - can you see how incredible this is going to be? - hang gliding, come on! 

Monday, you wonderful friend


As I sprawled out over our rocking armchair in the basement, eating cake and drinking coffee for breakfast, and watching some recording of Jason Mraz on Palladia, I thought,


a) I am so glad not to be working nine to five, Monday to Friday anymore.
b) God blesses me immensely.

I got through my horrible vegetable/fruit fast yesterday. I was starving after only three hours of it, and no matter how many veggies I ate, or how much protein they had, it just doesn't fill you like bread or pork chops. I was seeing stars by the time I was reading in my bed that night. And my dad told me at 10:30 that Bill said the meeting for this morning got called off, and that I could eat as much as I want, but I was doing such a good job, and getting so much out of it, that I made it til this morning. I don't know how Arminda did that fast so long, because I'd be dead.

When I first worked at Starbucks, I had this coworker named Jamie. And while she was a little wacky, she kind of inspired me, because she would do these weird challenges. Every year on her birthday she would challenge herself to something crazy that she would have to carry out until her next birthday. One year it was not drinking, one year it was being vegan. Stuff like that.

I thought about her this morning as I ate two pieces of cake with my Christmas Blend coffee, and thought about how Uncle Bill asked us to fast and pray for the church building today and tomorrow morning, and I thought, at the very least, I could just eat fruits and vegetables for the rest of the day and for breakfast tomorrow. (I have a hard enough time not passing out even when I am eating.) So I went to the gym to burn off the cake, and on the way home picked up a whole bunch of stuff that grows from the ground to eat for the rest of the day.

I didn't drink any alcohol last night, even though I thought it would help me sleep better. It's one of my favorite lies I tell myself. And I was really proud when I woke up this morning. I won't have any tonight, either. If I did this vegetable thing twice a month, I think that would be good for my heart and my prayer times with God, and my self control issues.

I don't have a paper to write, and I have two days off of work and school. I think I'm going to catch up on the last six months of movies.

Happy Sunday!

The interview went well.


God could not have blessed me with a better subject. Chad interviewed beautifully, and had really strong points about immigration, and hopefully my professors and classmates will be blown away by his story.

The end of the semester: I can't believe it's already here. It's sad and wonderful.
I'm currently reading
One Hundred Years of Solitude  (Marquez)
Across A Hundred Mountains (Grande)

And finally had pho for the first time in six to eight months, with Celisse, got ice cream cones, and watched Bridesmaids again. It's been a good week.

"I would like a glass of alcohol, please."
-Ellie Kemper's character on Bridesmaids

The Freshmen and Sophomore students at the U keep trying to wear tights in new and unusual ways. But wearing a black dress with red translucent tights just makes you look like a star in a horror movie. And wearing leggings instead of pants is just giving people permission to look at your butt and try to figure out what kind of underwear (if any) you have on.

I am really hepped up today.

I had maybe one cup of coffee, but I feel like I could run ten miles, and I think I'll go try. I had a short shift at work, and now I'm really nervous but excited to interview this guy Chad for my digital storytelling class. I'll post the video after finals, if it's any good. But I haven't met him, and I worry that I'm going to ask the wrong questions or that I will look like a fool trying to set my camera up. It's silly.

I have so much energy that I've been pouring into writing and running around and it's giving me a stomach ache, but I like it. 

I've been sleeping less, but last night I had this dream I was an assistant hit man with Jeff Bridges, and the cast of Community was in our movie. Jeff Bridges and I faked our own deaths in an explosion and hid in this cold dark boiler room of a hotel, and I thought I was going to die while we were asleep, but then I woke up, and made sure all the doors were locked. Even though I was the bad guy.

"In my dreams, I can feel the weight, I can just come clean...

I keep it to myself. I know what it means.

I can't have you...I have dreams."

-Brandi Carlile

My favorite coworker is Elaine, I think. I know you're not supposed to have favorites, but Elaine is an exception because she is awesome. I think she is everyone's favorite.

She's a fiery red head, with what I can only describe as a deep California voice. 

"What's open at ten-thirty?" She looks at me, walking out for her lunch.

"La Frontera," Alex says.

Elaine fakes throwing up.

"Subway?" I say.

"That's right, you're a good woman, Rachel. I forgot about that."

"You forgot I was a good woman? Or about Subway?" I ask her, but she's already gone. I walk back to the other side of the pastry case and re-brew coffee.

The phone rings.

"Thanks for calling Starbucks, this is Rachel."

I can hear a deep throaty laugh.

I start laughing. Neither of us can even speak for ten seconds.

"What's up?" I ask.

"The milkman is here," she laughs. I keep laughing too, because the best thing about Elaine is she legitimately thinks every thing she says is really funny. "And it's not his baby!"

I can't stop laughing, even though a customer is standing there, waiting for me to get off the phone. 

I can't think why she would call to tell me that. There is literally no reason, except that she thought it was a hilarious joke.

Everything is funny when you get four hours of sleep. I missed this in ways I couldn't remember.

I feel like I'm teenaging again.

"So my brother says to the guy, 'Oh look, your iPhone screen is cracked.' And the guy stands up and says, 'No I don't do crack anymore, I just like the way it smells.'"

-Elaine

I bump elbows with her in the studio.
"Can I read your paper?" She asks me.
I blush.
"No, I'd be really---I'd be too embarrassed."
She stares at me, from the other side of her glasses. Me, the girl with tissues in her pocket. Me the girl with the headache.
I try to explain. "It's hard, because I'm white. I don't know the experiences. I'm trying to learn..." and she smiles, slightly. I think she is a friend. I want her as a friend.
"I have a lot of white guilt," I whisper. Too inaudible to hear, in the small studio.

Tony turns on the lights.
She doesn't ask me more questions.

What does it mean, to be born in this privilege, and how the heck are you supposed to sleep every night, when you know what is really going on? You can write papers. You can speak up in class. You can stand up to your white friends, but it
 doesn't
do
anything.

It doesn't change the nightmares of someone in a different country, sleeping on the ground, who wakes up still hoping.

"He was a gossiper. To the maximum."
-Stesha, on Abe Lincoln

"Well I invited a lot of women to go to the waterpark. But most of them were pregnant."
-KG back at Labor day weekend. And now there are even more pregnant women.

Today this girl asked me for a donut, and I gave her a donut, so then she asked for cream cheese and I gave it to her, and she came back ten minutes later and said,
"This is not the kind of donut I wanted," and I looked at her, really confused for a minute, and I was going to try to figure out how to help her, but then she closed her eyes and started mumbling, "Donut, donut....beegel. I want bagel."
"Oh," the lightbulb went off. "That's why you wanted cream cheese."
"Yes."
"Where are you from?" I asked, because her accent sounded close to Russian.
"Ukraine. Where are you from?" And I laughed, because I usually never ask people that question out of politeness, and it was like she was calling me on it. But I was thinking of Tanya and wanted to know.

 But she looked so hopeful, and so I just said, "United States, Iowa." And I laughed again, but I wanted to tell her that one of my best friends was from Ukraine, and that made her happy, and she asked what my friend's name was, which I also thought was funny, but relevant. Tanya says "all Russians in Utah know all the other Russians in one way or another." But this girl didn't know Tanya, so she must be new.

And this is the part where I cram more work into the weekend than I do during the week. A cruelty. And I am losing so many hours to Nyquil.

lessons that I just can't seem to learn:
-to keep a lint roller in my car. 
-to stop double-booking myself.
-to not read on the bus.

weekly thing that I'm enjoying:
"Treat Yo Self Thursdays"  I usually splurge on a donut and coffee for my first class, and sushi for lunch. The rest of the week I eat weird inexpensive snacks and meals that you don't want to know about unless you are a Russian.

looking forward to:
getting done with one last paper before Thanksgiving, and then comes finals and Christmas and New Year's Eve! And all of the gingerbread cookies in between all of that. And some real snow. I LOVE WINTER.

Also, I am getting sick. I know it. So I'm taking one last dog for a walk, renting a Redbox, and falling asleep to it.

 

Even after deleting 100's of angsty teenage posts, and dooming many moodier ones to the "saved drafts" folder, I hit 888 posts yesterday, on 11/1/11. :)

 I slept 11 hours last night to ward off a flu that might still be imminent (all my coworkers have been getting sick) and this morning watched TV and went to the gym, and now I'm making some of my reserve stash of Iowa coffee to sit and eat Reese's PB cups with.   The smell of Friedrich's coffee brings me straight back to Des Moines, and I can close my eyes and believe I'm in Judy's living room and we're watching E! News or Gilmore Girls, or some other worthless TV show. Sounds ridiculous, but it hurts so much to live in Utah, sometimes.

ALTHOUGH. God did make a pretty awesome, angry sunset last night. And I thought, only here can you get this. It wasn't colorful or anything, but the way the dark clouds and mist and snow had sprinkled the valley and mountains all day and cleaned the air....it was breathtaking.

I finally gave DCFC's new album another listen and was wondering how Ben and Zooey were still doing. I thought, how could that marriage work when they are both touring all the time, and she's making a TV show now, and he's so cerebral, and she seems material.
Well I guess they just broke up, so that's weird that I was thinking about it.

Now, if only Jenny would break up with Johnny so that the right musical pair could finally happen. Ben and Jenny would be perfect together. Just sayin'.

12 hour high.
Sorry to my professors....I've been hallucinating all day.

On more than a few occasions, and especially tonight, I looked out of my basement window to think I was seeing the moon, shining really bright, through my shudders.

But it is my neighbors' porch light. It is actually an impossible angle for the moon to shine into my window, ever.

But I still find myself checking, each time.

"Thank God for Vegas."
-Martha

I walked into my dark family room after every one had gone to bed and saw light reflecting off of Noah's glasses.
"Oh my gosh you scared me," I said. "What are you doing in here?"
"Well, I am really bored, and I can't find any of my clothes."
"What? What clothes are you looking for?
"Any of them."

This is a typical conversation with Noah.

"What? She only works 20 hours a week?" He said, a half hour earlier.
"That's not bad for a college student," I suggested.
"I work 24 hours a day," he said.
"No you don't," I said. "You play a lot of video games."
"Well I do work til twelve, and then I come home and play video games," he adjusted.
"Enjoy that while it lasts," I said.
"Oh, I plan to do it forever," he said. And for a moment I thought, So do I. Like a teenage boy, I will be living in my parents' basement. I thought, What is so wrong with staying still, with not marrying, with not procreating....when everything will turn to dust and it will be our time to sleep with our fathers in the ground, and after that to face judgment.

I suppose judgment is what is wrong with staying still.

I don't know all the answers, Sharon, but I find myself sleeping through the whole night now.

"Balloons. Plastic. Rubber. Crazy."


-Nick

I started off my day with an early dentist appointment to follow up on a cavity. That might make you shudder, but I really really love my dentist (his lavender scented washcloths, and his demeanor, and the extra mile he always goes) and even though they gave me a brand new purple toothbrush last week, they gave me a pink breast cancer awareness one today.

I knew it was going to be a good day.

I let the Novocaine wear off and ate some french toast and stuffed my iPod with podcasts and indulged in buying an $8 album off of Amazon.
Got to the bus stop at my leisure, and spent a few hours on campus since I had the day off. I worked on my digital storytelling project and had a hamburger.

On my bus trip home, I watched a 9 year old girl get on the bus with her 6 year old brother. I couldn't believe they were by themselves and that she was taking care of him. It reminded me of how Philip and I were when we were younger, and I missed having someone look up to me like that and how everything I said was truth to him. To have someone believe in you like that. She got them on and off the bus safely, and I hope that they are so close when they are older.

I watched a handsome black man in a three piece suit and matching fedora taking care of his adorable little kid, and I watched him exit the bus with a stroller and watched him set it up on the sidewalk as soon as they exited. You don't see that everyday. The man as the primary caretaker. Que quapo. And this is what made me think, I would really like to dress up as a man for Halloween, if I do go to Emily's yearly rager. The matching fedora is what did it. (And I was listening to Sexy back by JT at the moment) But then I thought, what man do I already look like? And this ended in me buying fake beard at Halloween World and gluing it on my face at 3:30 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Emma took photos of Philip and I for at least an hour. It was a family moment. We made a memory together, and I think Judy will be horrified, but also get a really good laugh out of it.

I dressed back as a woman for house church, but was peeling glue off of my chin the whole time. Derek talked about God's peace vs. our anxiety, and I thought about how blessed I am to not be struggling with anxiety anymore. He had a really beautiful point about how God wants to hear from us, because He chose us, and we chose Him, and how beautiful that relationship is.  
Thank you God that you chose me.

"I'm getting to know you, Rachel."
"I'm getting to know you! Getting to feel free and easy!" I started to sing while he handed stuff out the drive through. I stopped, because I remembered the next words. "I'm not going to waltz with you, Ian."

Missed the first bus. Got most of the way to the bus stop, but then realized I didn't even have my whole book bag. I thought, can I live without it? And then realized I couldn't get on the bus without my pass.

I kinda wish Fall break had been another week. But I have a couple short weeks at work (finally) to work on huge papers and maybe see my friends and other projects I started.
I have a graduation appointment with the advisor I saw four years ago who basically told me I didn't have my crap together. And I still don't have my crap together, but if you keep at it...at college, you will eventually get it done, even if it takes ten years, because you did things like take a few semesters off to watch TV or go boating.

Also, stretching with a purpose is really helping my back and my wrists. YOGA.  I feel so good just from running more and stretching all the time.

rachel gets a massage.

I had a Groupon, and I finally went to use it, since my back has been killing me and I got off of work at 12:30. But it became, kind of an existential problem for me, if that's the right word for it.

A massage is kind of a medical thing, in that the therapist I got was wearing scrubs, and was heralding the benefits of massage, and saying how insurance companies should pay for it. But it felt different from being at the doctor's, because the whole time I was thinking, Does she think I am fat? Does she notice the Dalmatian bruises I have all over my legs? Does she think I am ugly? I thought this last one as I turned my face toward her, and had my eyes covered, and she was standing directly over me. Of course she is staring at my double chin.

"I'm working out." I wanted to say, "I'm trying to lose weight," I wanted to defend myself. "I haven't eaten a single pastry all day," I thought. I had to convince myself that she loved her job, and loved massaging chubby people like me, so I said, "Do you love being a massage therapist?"
"Oh yes," she said, like I think she says to all the chubby people. I tried to think that massaging skinny people would be like trying to pet Celisse's bony dog. It is weird paying someone to touch you.
I kept her talking, so she would have to like me as a person, and in the end she showed me some good exercises for my wrists, since she thinks I'm getting carpal tunnel, which I never thought would happen to me.
I loved every minute, really.

It's nice to work only one job. I'm loving Fall break, on a whole. I'm excited to be half done with the semester, even though I am regretting the end of my education, piece by piece. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas and the New Year. God is so good to me. Every day.

"I made orange juice from concentrate and showed her the trick of squeezing the juice of one real orange into it. It removes the taste of being frozen. She marveled at this, and I laughed and said, Life is easy. What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again. The day felt like a birthday, our first, and we ourselves were the gifts, to be opened again and again."
from Miranda July's Ten True Things. I love how she writes, I get lost in it.

and as Jenny Lewis would say, the days come to me like sailors, and I watch them as they sail away.
I don't have much of my own words to say tonight. I don't get sad, that's good. I still get happy, that's very good. I had a moment of euphoria, even, at work the other day.
The day started a beautiful way of me driving to work when it was just starting to get enough sun to light up the sleepy, crystal clear valley. It is only this way in the cold. And my heater was starting to warm up the air, and I was so pleased to be wearing gloves and a jacket at 6 a.m.
This is a very hard thing to explain, this crystal clear thing. It is like a moment when the colors pop out to you, and you realize how wonderful your life is when you don't have a headache, and you don't have any social engagements tonight, and you can't think of a single sin. It's the moment you clean your glasses and put them back on, and then you realize the world is a lot different than you just thought you were looking at a second ago.
So the moment of euphoria came three or four hours after that. Mixed with sleepy giddiness and one latte, and Jordan wasn't there, I looked around the room and I wanted to say, "I love you. I love you. I love all of you and I want you to come to my party." And at the party, they were going to laugh at all of my jokes, and I would smile, but not smile so big as to crinkle my eyes, and the weather would be like falling asleep in a soft bed. And the music would be Frank Sinatra and Grizzly Bear, and the hors d'oeuvres would be sushi.


It is a powerful thing to have a moment like that. And a very surprising one to have it at Starbucks.

I end up confessing all of my sins to Martha. This is easiest, as she has nothing to do with my real life, and she never judges me. And she is, of course, an eager listener, because who doesn't want to hear another person's deepest secrets?

She has become my therapist. I can tell her anything. I think when I am done here, I will keep coming back to tell her and Misha the secrets. Coming in to say, I like your new haircut. Coming in to say, here is a candy bar, and I really miss you. Coming to say, I married Mike in Vegas, and I'm having second thoughts about him now.


Sometimes in the depths of my empathy towards my poor miserable clients, I still want to lean back and say, "Even though your life is falling apart, you could still probably brush your teeth before leaving the house."


And everyday I get to about lunch time, and wonder why I thought it was a good idea to try to tease my hair into more volume. I end up with bumpy nests in the back of my head, like a drunk 9th grader.

"Thank you for calling ----- Bank, this is Rachel, how can I help you?"
"Wow. You sound like a real person."
"Well, I am a real person. What can I do for you?"
-weird conversation I had with this person this morning who took at least a minute and a half to disclose what her name was

The days are winding down. I am going to miss this place. I'm not going to miss this place. I'm not going to miss Sunday night texts that say, "Please bring your plan of action on how you are going to meet the branch's goals tomorrow," but I will miss putzing my way through the day with two of the coolest girls I have met in a long time. I will miss the pay. I won't miss my boss's mood swings. But I will think of every one there in love and respect.

It is almost autumn. I don't mind the slow transition. It's pretty nice.

oh hi.

How often do you get to give the same person your two weeks notice twice? Well, usually every year, or twice a year if you are me.

I gave G my two weeks notice last night, which I was dreading, but we really had a good conversation, and I feel positive about where I am leaving things with her. So in two weeks, I will officially be back to only wearing coffee-flavored clothes and sometimes I worry that I made the wrong decision, but I feel like Starbucks might be the only company to accommodate all the traveling and shenanigans I am getting myself into in 2012.

And someday I will be giving them my two weeks again. I need to try newer things than coffee and banks, I guess.

 As I was trying to figure out how to open a window on the bus, because the guy behind me kept farting, the bus pulled up to one of its scheduled stops, and this couple who was sitting a few rows in front of me, kissed each other like Barbies, but all I could see was the look on the girl's face, and she looked deliriously happy. She gets up to get off the bus, and smiles at him the whole time. When she steps down to the sidewalk, she keeps smiling and looking at him, and he keeps watching her and they just keep smiling at each other like idiots. Everyone on the bus is watching them, because you never see this. It's not lust, it's not some couple making out in front of a high school. I think that's why we want to watch them.
My new psychology brain says that it's limerence and it's only going to last for so long, but it's a nice thing to see. I think about how long it's been since I felt that way about anyone, but I still smile.
The bus is sometimes my favorite part of the day.

"And I am one of your people
But the cars don't stop
And it's been a long time since before I've been touched
Now I'm getting touched all the time
And it's only a matter of whom
And it's only a matter of when

An addiction to hands and feet-
There's a meat market down the street..."
-Regina Spektor

  

There is a moment, in Wes Anderson's Hotel Chevalier when Natalie Portman says, "Whatever happens in the end, I don't wanna lose you as my friend." and Jason Schwartzman replies, "I promise, I will never be your friend. No matter what. Ever." 

And usually I relate most with Jason's character, of being left and still loving someone even though he/she does not deserve it, and hating myself because of it.

But today I am Natalie Portman, wanting to leave, wanting Martha still to love me. Wanting to have my cake and eat it too.

I'm afraid after cutting all the ties off, that I'm going to feel like I made a mistake. But I'm also sure that I will feel free. I don't know, in the end, if I like "free". But I know that I like movement.

Natalie Portman: I love you. I never hurt you on purpose.

Jason Schwartzman: I don't care.

another Pleasant Valley Sunday


Last night, as I passed Tegan and Sara's exit, I smiled. "I'm sleeping in my own bed, next to no dogs, tonight!" and then after what felt like 3 hours of sleep, my alarm went off.

I think things are going to be good. I have about 3 weeks of hell, coming up, but then I will only be working one job, it will be Fall Break, and maybe I will lose a little more weight.

Everyday is a gift from God. He surprises me, He blesses me.
-I get to work with Christians now.
-I received a small pell grant to put toward this year's student loans.
-I've become a professional house-sitter and it is a nice income on the side.
-My friendships are growing and changing. Mostly growing.
...And my anxiety is gone. I don't get panicky anymore.