When I am near you, I see what you love so clearly. No one else knows that you are repeating yourself, in your own kitchen.
Somehow, I don't get tired of it. I just love you.
More.


My ride home tonight was strange. It was snowing, and I was crying, as I pulled of the freeway, and once I finally got to the stop light (traffic was merged to one lane, and even though it was midnight, these guys were out working on the road, and there was bad traffic) And this man, I saw him jump up into this backhoe in the middle of the intersection. He stood wiping the wet snow off the seat of the backhoe, and I felt sympathy for him, in the middle of my self pity, I stopped thinking of myself. When he sat down, his jeans were going to get wet. And how long did he have to be out there on state street anyway? Til six in the morning? What? I was obviously staring straight at him. I didn't have anything else to look at, and I was unashamed. He was staring at me, back. From underneath his hard hat, and over his sweatshirt he had pulled up over his nose, he stared back. I was friends with him. We were old pals.
And just like that, the light turned green, and we both forgot about each other. I zoomed through the intersection, and he waited for the next car to stop at the light and make friends with him all over again.

I don't have anything left.
ANYTHING. I am less of a personality at the end of this week than I was at the beginning. I am foolish, I am flawed.
And it's like, oh well.

To do before I'm twenty (an abridged version):

-ride a roller coaster (never done that)
-drive a motorcycle (see first item on list)
-stop cutting my hair
-grow some flowers
-spend a day with God
-fall in love for the first time (maybe)
-Go back to Colorado
-breathe underwater
-do something very "un"Rachel (call in sick and go see a movie? leave the country?)
-see the ocean
-drink coffee in Portland
-watch Magnolia
-break a bad habit
-do something nice for somebody else

My dog is hacking something up upstairs and I just spilled my entire cup of coffee on my desk.

I still don't know what I am doing, and what to do with my life. I dropped one of my harder Spring semester classes, and replaced it with Yoga and Bowling to fulfill the credits. I'm sort of excited.
Maybe after the Christmas break I will want to go back to school. Who knows.

I want to sit down and make a list of things I want to accomplish before I'm twenty. Will update on this later; I'm taking suggestions...

"Set your mind on the head pin, not on the side pins."
Pocket 5:19


(Tony)



It's Tuesday. I'm finding lately that I need to be redundant with myself about what day it is. Yesterday (which was, yes Rachel, Monday) I sent the tube back out to the drive through and said, "There ya go, have a great weekend!" And the poor old couple stared at me for a few seconds while I turned red and did not correct my mistake. I think what I meant was "Have a nice holiday." or "Happy Thanksgiving," but somehow these all run together in my head like coke does.

We left it feeling fresh in some other atmosphere and we forget to tell you what it feels like and we also forget to care. It was a phone flipping open and shut and different hours to think in different languages.

It was seventeen shivering seconds before we met in the car and buckled ourselves in.
It was the truth.

It was reclaiming broken soldiers who were hazed by the sounds of bombs. It was showing them what it meant to be warriors.
The good side, whether or not I can feel my fingers.

"No, not the Indians from India. The ones from South America or Mexico or Wyoming."
-Kels

I dreamed that Gabriel was four years old and Hannah went and got him tattooed. He had an entire sleeve. A little four year old boy with a sleeve. Even in my dream I had some questions. Was it legal? Was it going to stretch out as he grew up?

I dreamed that Tanya and I quit Chase and we were both working at Walmart with Bryan. We had to drive about three hours to get to work each day so we carpooled.

I love dreams. I always make a point to remember them when I get to sleep in. Last week when I got to sleep in I had a dream that Tony and Philip and I were going to rob a credit union. But I chickened out and we ended up just going to get a burrito at Chipotle.

I've started a new goal of each day to pick something that makes my entire day. That way, at least one amazing thing happened to me, and anything else is just bonus.
For instance, I ran into Eddie yesterday when I was studying at SLCC. (I don't go there anymore, it's just a convenient place to study that's not my noisy house) We both stared at each other and tried to remember who we were and then suddenly we were talking, even though in the 6 years I was in love with him, I never got the courage up to talk to him. We would always just stare at each other when we ran into one another at Jordan. So it was no big surprise that we just picked up where we left off. But anyway, I realized I was still in love with him, and it made my day.

Today I got some great Bowling Bible verses from Bryan and Tony and they made my day. I'll share them with you so you can be happy.

"For the LORD is Perfect, he cannot tolerate a spare. He looks down on gutters."
Strikealations 7:10 (Bryan)

"For those who don't strive to bowl, don't strive to be like the Lord, and therefore do not know the love our Lord offers."
Bowlariah 11:8 (Bryan)

"Doing your best will not get you to heaven, so be perfect and bowl a 300, for I am perfect said the Lord."
Bruinswick 4:9 (Tony)

but I'd rather not celebrate my defeat and humiliation here with you

salt fingers, cuts, yes cuts. Hold an amp in your arms. No, please feel this way when you sit on the couch, and then never feel that way again. Take a picture. Your eyes have never looked that way before, to me, and it shuts down my heart to never love. A tube of paint? Dirty in the morning, dirty at night. With only seven cups of coffee to keep her moving, honey? How's she gonna do that tomorrow and the next day, with sticky fingers and skinny jeans?
I don't have words, anymore. I don't think straight, anymore.
The only thing I know is Jesus.
The only thing that keeps me free is Jesus.
The only way my heart is clean enough to get out of bed in the morning and look you in the eyes is Jesus.

eventually my mouth will just turn to dust.

On Wednesday, Billy was doing something interesting with Brittni's pedal board. It was like he was recording and looping himself, or something. Maybe it was just reaaaaally long delay.
But the stuff he plays and makes up on the spot is some of the saddest stuff I've ever heard. When he plays it and it loops over and over, I want to live in that pedal board. In that amp. I want to sleep there and have that be the music of my life.

Sometimes I think music is the only productive part left of my life. I mean, I make money to pay my bills day after day, and I'm going to school...but for what and for who? Its going to burn.

I had a little nervous breakdown after creative writing class today. But instead of smoking or running away I just went bowling at the union. As Walter from the Big Lebowski would say, "Fuck it, let's roll." So I did that.
After two horrible games (lots of strikes, but not so many pins total...) I walked out of the Union and went straight past the building my next class was in, and started heading toward my car. But then about halfway there I started crying and turned around. I am not very good at skipping school anymore, no matter what kind of existential identity problems I am having mid-afternoon. Besides, I hadn't seen William in two weeks.
So I walked into class fifteen minutes late, because I am a weird girl who bowls between classes. But it was good I went, or I would have missed a quiz and a prompt for the paper we're supposed to write this week. Hmmm. William stuck his tongue out at me from across the room.
Our teacher had two Muslim girls come to class today and give the class an overview of why some Muslim women choose to wear the coverings, and tried to explain that they were not being oppressed by their husbands. They were very sweet.
At the very end, one of them said something that really hit me. She said, "At the very least there are now twenty more people in this country that will not look at us strangely when we are walking through the airport."
White people are assholes sometimes. I am an asshole sometimes.
I want to live my life with more compassion. I forget how privileged I am most days.

This is what I feel like when I feel like nothing matters.
Like when all I get excited about is warm coffee and 2:30 when Bob shows up.

I do like playing the bass guitar.
I do like paint...paint everywhere.

I'm trying to convince myself I'm alright and I'm doing a horrible job.

Tanya gave me a really strange look today that I've never gotten from her before. I came back to work during the lunch rush, and she was on the phone, and I pulled out a V8 and gave it to her just because we are friends. She gave me a friendship look. I took a picture in my mind.

I am scattered tonight. I am in boxes in the garage. I am in dresser drawers. I am locked in the vault running low on oxygen. I am speaking Spanish.

"You have the word s-e-x in your bathroom."
-Kelsea

My week in review:
...I read my Bible every day, which I'm pretty happy about. Its funny what an affect it has on you just to get up and read your Bible and eat oatmeal. It's a destresser for sure.
...I went bowling..of course.
...I went to bed at 9:30 on Halloween, just because.
...I saw my first zombie movie. (I think I'm hooked.)
...had a wonderful dream
...switched great music with Roy
...met Brittni and Hannah for breakfast
...and I fell apart at the finish line, which I've been hoping would happen for a while. When you just bottle things up, it has to come out somehow. Maybe not in the burger king parking lot, but oh well.

I hate waking up to no milk on a Sunday morning. What a bummer.

My life is in fast forward, right now, which I don't really mind. Where has the month of October gone? I've spent it at the drive through, working for the mafia, or something.

I slept in til 9 this morning, which is a novelty now that my hours have changed. I laid there, and even though I could hear the words "pancake! pancake Izzy? Would you like a pancake?" I didn't get up. I rolled over and played music on my phone and fell back asleep.

I'm content with my life, right now. Which is a dangerous thing to say, because then you know something will come along. But I'm happy right now. I'm learning self control in some of the most difficult areas of my life, and my anxiety at school, and sometimes work has been going gradually away.
I'm okay with what's next, whatever it is. Bring it on.

I try to write things down that people say when they're funny to me.
Here are some Tony-isms from dinner at the D'Amico's last night.

"That's not called an Americano, that's called 'Can I have a little sick with my disgusting?'"

"I like to 2nd hand smoke better than first hand smoke."
"Well I just like to smoke in the house."

And my favorite

"Yeah, she's had a little bit to drink, but haven't we all?"-when no one was drinking but him

Tonight I went to a rapid fire poetry reading at the Art Barn. I met William there and Alex (also from Gender class) came too.
The Art Barn is a cute little gallery near the university where they have poetry readings frequently. A lot of the young "urban" professors read their stuff there. I think they're all pretty good friends. They had lots of inside jokes.
Even the bathroom was so cute I wanted to take pictures. I walked around and looked at the art with Alex. He thought I was really superficial because he was really looking at the pottery.

They had a few really good writers that I liked. One girl stood up and did a monologue about how she'd been hired to hold Dick Cheney's hand at night because he was scared of something under his bed. It was pretty funny. Others were really explicit like my professor told us they would be.
"Is this what you really wanted?" William asked me, both of us blushing.
"Not really," I told him, although a few hours before I'd told him that it was exactly what I was hoping for. "I told you it would be this way though.."
His professor went up after that and William rolled his eyes a lot at him, because he thinks he's a douche, but it was pretty funny.
We even had cake, and then Alex said, "I must be going." It was all very surreal and fancy and really delightful actually. I would definitely go again.

There are moments, here and there, that I know life exists outside of clips of money and angry drunk customers.
I know it in the rotting leaves and cold air, and seeing my breath. It all reminds me of my head buried deep in your laundry and the kind of tears that feel so good.
I want more than anything to be in Des Moines.

"So who said 'shitting kittens'? I WANNA KNOW."
-Charles

Sometimes
I
worry
about stuff.

"I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me."
(T. S. Eliot)

My mind is muggy like the humidity that suffocates you during an Iowa summer, so much so that I couldn't pull my pants down because they were sticking to my legs. But in those days, maybe I shouldn't have been wearing those shorts. Shouldn't have been looking out the window when I was going to the bathroom.
I was saying, my mind is cloudy. The thoughts go in winding roads and I want to complain a lot but I just turn it all off. I turn off the brain.
I'm supposed to be writing a paper. Of course, I'm writing a blog, and I still don't know what I'm saying.

Often when I am sitting in the drive-through, I live out an entire year of my life. I pick one man that I wonder what it would be like to have a relationship with. In my head, I play out the first few months. Then I go to the part where he stops paying for dinner, where he doesn't love Jesus. Where I've been staying out too late and there is nothing fruitful I have to show for the last six months of my life. In my head, we break up, and just like that the relationship is over. It has saved me much grief. Men I didn't really love. Men who were too boring. Men who smelled good but weren't very funny.

I am tired.
I want to quit school. I want to buy a motorcycle. I want backpack across Brazil with Alison.
But I don't have any guts.
I just have coffee and aspirin and my commute to look forward to. Day after day...

"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons."

Even though Tony was mad last night, I realized we're going to be friends for our whole lives. Cuz his favorite number is 9, too.

It's just such a great thing.

A list, because I haven't thought straight all week.
-work
-fall break (yet not a vacation)
-tired
-coffee
-ASHLEY'S wedding
-champagne
-aspirin
-my camera is back in my possession. don't have to buy a new one. good!!
-postcard from California
-sugar
-keeping people together
-watching them fall apart
-Tony boiling mad
-tricky
-the smell of the rain sweet and untouchable
-someone to listen, someone to talk
-an email about Regina
-a nap during skateboarding season
-the hole in my heart that I build a fence around and cherish so well that it becomes a dear old friend, (war-torn and unhappy) but hopeful.
-and every breath we drew was hallelujah.

Kelsea and I were sitting at her kitchen table after dark on Sunday, getting in a good three hour talk. I told her that it seems like my life moves in these repeating sessions.

Right now, I'm going through a workaholic session again. Working to take my mind off things I don't wanna talk about. Working because I don't have school. Working so I can buy another camera, and finish paying for my bass. It is my machine-self. Get up, coffee, work early til closing, usually. Having meaningless conversations with my coworkers. Tanya gets mad at me for something, then she settles down. Touch my hair and forget that it's still on my head. Cash in. Cash out.

Go to bed, with few exceptions, not having even seen my friends, and press the repeat button after 9 hours of sleep.
I'm looking forward to Ashley's wedding. Not looking forward to school starting again next week.

Maybe I'll buy a ticket to the Regina Spektor show. I owe it to myself. I just don't want to see all the stupid people there that don't love her like I love her. I don't want it to ruin her for me.
But you need something to look forward to, or else...
what?
What else is there left.

With my hands in my pockets, I told Sarah.
"Yeah. That's just me, and I can't change." But I knew I could change.
But she didn't need to know that. I realized I could say anything I wanted to her, cuz she doesn't really know me. Now that the other Sara is gone, I really have no reason not to be a very private person. Or a liar.
I just didn't give a damn, this morning. Staring out the drive through. No one comes to the bank on a holiday unless they don't remember its a holiday. Columbus day isn't a real holiday. I mean, come on.
"Well, that's really sad." And she went on to say something about herself, and I zoned out and made the appropriate noises in the appropriate places like I usually do.
"So is that how you were raised?" She finally asked me. She's a psychology major. I closed my eyes and wished I'd had at least nine cups of coffee at 7 a.m. I check my phone before I answer her.
I am an asshole.
"Um, actually I was raised to believe I should buck up. I was raised to believe that life is hard and you should get used to it. But I was raised to believe I was better than everyone else." I watched her eyes go very wide and her eyebrows lifted. She squinted.
"Hmmm." I could see her wheels turning. She's one of those people who stands up for poor people and black people and people who have open minds. It's not like I'm not. But sometimes she can almost come across as fake about it. I like to push her buttons. "In fact," I said, "I have a really hard time liking people who are different from me."
I said the word different like it was poisonous. Just to freak her out.
"Oh....really?" She breathed slowly.
"Yep. It's really hard." But just like that the fun was over when she started talking.
"Mhhhmmm," I quietly said to whatever she told me after that.
Making appropriate noises in the appropriate places.
I looked at the computer screen. Put my money in clips. My Russian boss at lunch. Grumpy with me. The words on the computer screen say my name in all caps lock. It unnerves me. Seeing the A in Rachel in caps. It creeps me.
You'd think this life would make me bolder, but I'm running scared is all.

"To the core of my being, I'm a plastic green army man. And I'm satisfied with that."
-Kelsea


I had a very strange day in Provo, American Fork, Salt Lake, and Sandy. Yes. I drove one hundred miles today, and saw quite a few circles of friends. And I got cultured.

"Wait, Vegans go to the bathroom?"
-Scott

Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love..

Oh dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers
I have not art to reckon my groans but that
I love thee best, O my best, believe it. Adieu.
'Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst
this machine is to him,
-Hamlet

Sometimes, I go completely crazy by 3:30 p.m. on Thursdays, because they are chaotic messes of days. I won't bore you with work and school details, but in between classes I stood out side, at the very end of the sidewalk and ate a bag of chips, in the sunlight. (It was colder outside than in). I rocked back and forth on the age of the pavement. Every once in a while mumbling profane arguments with myself.
"Who the hell is that?" I found myself saying out loud, to no one and about no one in particular, as if I were supposed to know every one on campus, and that particular girl in the headband was unfamiliar to me. I burst out laughing and walked inside. My hair is long now.

Moving on.
My boss finally gave me more hours since she couldn't find anyone to fulfill a full time position. I plan on being out of debt by Christmas. I'm pretty stoked about it. Just worried that it will be hard to keep up with school. I don't really love school right now. I'm having the same ideas I have every semester about dropping out, but it usually goes away in the summer.
Hrrmmm.

Oh well.

It's funny. Sometimes I almost start crying when I am trying to tell Collin that I miss playing bass with him. I think the bass player/drummer relationship makes or breaks a band, and I definitely miss our souls clicking together in that way. It's hard to describe.
I think Caleb and I are becoming good friends, and that maybe one day we'll sync like that. I guess after four years of watching Collin's feet and learning what he was going to do next, it's only natural that we would be that tight. Just give it some time, I guess.

Oi. I am getting sappy about music. I am a very different person than I used to be.

So here's what I've got:
-a really messy room (I just don't understand when I'm going to become a civilized person. I mean, seriously, Rachel. Paint is everywhere, you have not vacuumed, and Lord knows where your textbooks are)
-extensions (what-the-hell. when are you going to feel comfortable going out in public with those)
-you ditched Tanya's wedding early (I'm really sorry Tanya, that I made up lies. I'm really happy for you. Your wedding was beautiful, and surreal to see all my coworkers outside of work, and realize that I wanted Bob to ask my to dance, kind of?)
-making it through one single stressed out day because of Pepsi
-realizing that it is weird to hang out with married couples that talk about sex so much, inadvertantly
-the weekend, Baby
-laughter

"I think that if I had your chance, I would definitely take it. But yeah. We're all gonna miss you man."
"Yeah... It's a pretty big opportunity, not just music-wise, but for my relationship with Jesus, too."
"That's really great. I think you will benefit from (going on tour), and it'll stretch you."
"Yeah. It'll help me grow my beard too."
-My conversation with Matt Nanes this morning

"So they know this other world exists, and when you tell them that the government can't find the money to provide them with a decent place to go to school, they don't believe it and they know that it's a choice that has been made--a choice about how much they matter to society. They see it as a message: 'This is to tell you that you don't much matter. You are ugly to us so we crowd you into ugly places. You are dirty so it will not hurt to pack you into dirty places.' My son says this: 'By doing this to you, we teach you how much you are hated.' I like to listen to the things my children say. They're not sophisticated so they speak out of their hearts."
-from Savage Inequalities: Children in America's Schools (Jonathan Kozol)

Wow.

i might stay out longer than I left the light on for you, if you show you show

I've settled down now. No more smoke blowing out my ears.
Jenni came back into my life again and every time she or Megan come, they teach me how to be happy. How to be young, how to laugh. She makes my heart and soul smile. Her sister Joy came with her (both of them are from Parker, CO), and we had a really good time.

We walked around downtown in the rain, enjoying the moments in our flip flops. (I think there are only a few days left of flip flops.) We got starving and ate at Tony Caputo's.
Then, Jenni and I played around on my bass for an hour or so.
Then church. (God and I are friends again)
Then bowling.

Also the Provo-church Kick-off was on Friday, and it was spectacular. The Kelsea-Collin-Mark band did a wonderful job, and I really think God is going to do amazing things down there. I think He already is.

Shannon's got this way of sharing truth with me that completely shuts my mouth right where I am. No argument left.
Take it.
Or leave it.

And it's so hard to take it. But I don't wanna leave it either.
I don't want to choose.

So I'll probably just drink a few more cups of tea this week, and not have my heart repaired until the damn mechanic can come pick it up.

Yes. I am feeling decidedly less in-love today.
I feel like the business woman I supposedly am. I feel like my life is better spent in finance and paint. I mean... that's what I do on Mondays.
I make people mad at me because they've been waiting in line for twenty minutes, and after six o' clock, Alison and I are up to our elbows in paint.
I guess it's a good way to spend your life.

I like it.

sometimes at night, I feel like I'm falling in love.
the dropping temperatures don't help
and certainly the quiet moments don't help.
the freeway worship
the decaf coffee at 11:59
and your hand on my shoulder
don't help
but in the morning, I will wake up
and it'll just be wishful thinking.



thankfully.

I didn't slow down til 1815 tonight. (Yes, I'm still trying to bring back military time. It makes more sense.) What I mean is six o clock.
I got up, and after carefully packing my car (every day is a road trip in the life of Rachel) and I went to work, listening to the Con by Tegan and Sara (go buy this album if you already didn't). And I was the only teller today. I left late-ish (and Bob showed up sometime after me. Bob and I are friends now. I'm allowed to talk about him. He's from California, and yes he's dreamy and smells good. He sometimes reminds me of Jordan in his deadpan humor. And he asks me about bowling, so he's friend material) So life goes on I guess. What is weird is being in the bathroom at the same time as your boss, and talking to her when you are both in the bathroom. Hmmm.

So I went to school, and literally ran from the parking lot to where my class was, cuz I have to park so far away. I love school now, which I guess changed in the last four days. I love my creative writing class. It's just that my Diversity class is keeping me up at night. I wrote a paper for it yesterday, and skipped out on life to sit home and read article after article about homosexuality. I sat and cried my eyes out, had a crisis of faith, and to try to sleep after that just didn't work. Yes. Homosexuals are keeping me awake at night. But I've reached a place, today, where I am no longer angry at God, and no longer a misanthrope. Some areas, in life, you just leave gray until you can work them out over pasta with someone who won't make your forehead wrinkle up. Right?
So finally after school, I sat and did homework on the patio at the Union. The sky was overcast and no one was around, and it was a good chilling out time before I drove clear to the other mountains to put together Ashley's shower with Krista and Adrian.
It's funny when you come home at night, and you've listened to the Con three or four times, and you don't know where all the hours went.
But when you believe, they call that rock and roll.

if I'm frightened, and I have lost my way

And wouldn't it just be like education to make me question what I believe. But maybe knowing things doesn't even empower you. Maybe it just confuses you more, and the truth turns gray under the filter of "knowledge".

One way or another, I think the truth will always prove itself to be true. At least, I hope it will, at this point.

"Maybe I don't actually care about cows that much. I mean, maybe last week I ate a burger."
"So what, then, you're a social meat eater?"
-two kids in my writing class

Today is one of the best days of my life. I'm saying that so that I can start keeping track of them, so that I remember that they happen.

I woke up this morning, and I was actually smiling, because even after 8 hours of sleep, I was still replaying last night. (Last night was Stesha's birthday party, and it was great...). Also, my alarm clock is Regina singing "a little bag of cocaine, a little bag of cocaine, and who's the girl wearing my dress?". I got up and got myself dressed, and went and got contacts at the mall at my new Ophthalmologist's office. He's a cool guy. Ophthalmologists are weird because they spend like, maybe 25 minutes looking into your soul while you stare at the ceiling (no left, now right. Now look at my shoe), and write you out a prescription for something that is going to affect you every day of your life til the next time you come in. 25 minutes.
After that, I bought my first ever pair of Steve Maddens. I fear that I will never stop buying more shoes. This is the third pair in, oh, a week.
(I'm still in denial that I have a bass and amp to pay for by January).
I met Lauren for an amazing cup of coffee, and Shannon went on her lunch break and hung out with us. We sat and ate cucumbers, and it was... divine.
Creative writing class was just peachy, and here I sit, anticipating a great band practice, and an amazing night of bowling. And I don't even have to wake up early in the morning.
Does life seriously get any better?

I just realized this morning that I never got to see last week's Post Secrets. I'm really mad.

I'm sick of being sick now.

Oil paints take a long time to dry. Really long time.

I was fine last night, and I woke up 11 hours later with my throat fully swollen (say that fives fast) and my hair a full afro.
Dayumn.

We went out for Zach's birthday last night, and it was a lot of fun. We went to an Indian restaurant, and everyone who worked there was hilarious. It was a really good time, and it reminded me of this kid Dilpreet said (Dil-Pree) that I used to sit at the same table with in photography a few years back. Actually, I think that was sophomore year. (Whoa. I'm a Sophomore again.) And he was hilarious too, and he was from India. I told him I loved him every day, and he had to try to come up with new and exciting ways to tell me he hated me. I think somewhere I still have a note we passed back and forth that says something along the lines of
"Dilpreet, I hope we get married someday," to which he possibly replied, "I'm going to kill you." It was a very healthy relationship. I can probably say it contributed to who I am today.

Sorry. I'm high on Sudaphed.

a list:
-I just bought a box of fruit gushers and ate 66% of it's contents
-I also just bought Under the Blacklight by Rilo Kiley. Haven't opened it yet, but I already know it's good. I was reading an interview with Jenny and Blake in Filter. It made me stoked for this album, and I'm still in love with Jenny Lewis
-I also bought a coat, even though it's at least seventy degrees outside. I'm stoked about winter.
-I finished the story, and I was really disappointed in myself, but it's done. It's over. I'll get over it.
-if I put a cup of coffee in my room, and shut the door for five minutes, and I come back in, my room smells like a coffee greenhouse. (I don't think that's a real thing, but that is my description of the smell, it seriously makes my room humid)
-I watched Return of the Jedi last night.
-my hair doesn't curl no matter how old I get, or how much sugar I eat
-I love sugar, cookies, coffee, seeing girls wear high heels, A.T.'s facial hair, ten dollar jeans that fit me better than $100 jeans, books that I love to read, music produced by Chris Walla, my phone, keeping up with Alison and girl Alex, my new bass, my new band, refrigerators with peaches inside, Charles Ellsworth's poetry (from my creative writing class), and bowling.

I'm trying to count my blessings instead of dwelling in my disasters.

my face and my eyebrows hurt.

I had a really good weekend with my family in Midway. We stayed at a resort, and went swimming (a lot), and took naps and ate junk food. It was good for the soul. I'm still trying to finish a story that I've been working on for a couple of months. I like the story, and I'm bent on finishing it, but in some ways, I've already outgrown it. I guess it is a freshman sort of story that one day I could look back on and say, "That's where I got myself in gear." At least, I hope it's that sort of thing.

If that makes any sense.
I was going somewhere with all this, and I'm trying to remember where it is.

Can't remember. But this is my Monday morning, and its Tuesday. So there's always that. But in general, I've come to disapprove of Holidays. You have to move everything around to just have that one day off. Business slows down an extra day (not just the Saturday Sunday that is already killing our momentum every week. OF COURSE Japan is going to get ahead of us. OF COURSE China is going to take over the world. We're taking every freakin' weekend off of business!) And I've lost hours of work off this week because Monday is usually my longest work day. I wouldn't care but I just bought a bass and amp on credit. Did I tell you this is the first time in my life that I've been in debt, other than my truck? Nope, I don't even have any school debt yet, and I've never carried a balance on my credit card...

Cute Bob and Nice Sara are quitting and/or transferring. They better get replaced by cool people, or I'm gonna die.

Okay. That's it for today.
The End.

It's Friday night, and I watched TV with my family. But we had icecream, and my dad is funny, and I ate someone else's chinese food, so I'm sure it's okay.

Work is JUST GREAT. I'M DOING JUST FINE. But I took this job so I could walk away at the end of the day, and not care. So that's what I'm going to do, I'm just not going to care.
But both of my favorite coworkers are leaving. Bleh.

I could eat an entire cake, I think right now.
But more, I am looking forward to just drinking coffee in the morning, and maybe I'll go get a donut, and then go to the aquarium.
Back to my roots.

I have a little bit of a horrible confession to make.
It's not that I don't love my brothers and sisters in Christ. It's not that I don't love my pastors. It's not that I think if I went somewhere else I'd be "happy".
But...
(I really don't want to go to church anymore).

I think part of me is just really tired of trying to keep up with my own convictions. I've been crushed and humbled so much in one week that I don't sometimes think I can keep handling it. (God, why are you smooshing me?) And another part says that if I quit going to church, I wouldn't get hurt by the people I love anymore. I could be with people who don't love me, and we will be just fine. Fine. As in, not good or bad, just fine. Like lithium or something.

This isn't because I'm reading feminist literature.

If you've never checked out Noah Kalina's photography before, you really have to.

http://flickr.com/photos/noahkalina

It's crazy how good he is. I wanna be where he is, and meet the people he meets.

for Kendra:

my writing professor is Christine Marshall. She's pretty. She wears dresses and skirts, and has a really good voice for reading poetry. I have a teacher-crush on her.
And I haven't tried Dazbog coffee yet, but I want to. I saw the picture of the Dazbog t-shirts on your blog, and I really want one, ha ha.
And I want to come out to Fort Collins more than ever. Maybe I could make a trip out there this fall?

It's starting to cool down out here. Last night, I even felt like putting a jacket on.
I went to a show at the Avalon with Tony and Shannon. I guess the Avalon is supposedly a "church" so the owner doesn't have to pay taxes, which is pretty screwy to me. He even got shut down and didn't open back up until he put in "pews". But other than that, it's a cool venue. The place was packed. I sat with Raychel while she did merch for Paxtin. It was a good show. I did see a lot of girls from high school that made me feel crumby. I hate that part. But Tony offered to punch them for me, which made me feel better. We went to the Pie afterwards and everything tasted so good, and everyone made me laugh so hard. Afterwards we hung out at Nick's til two in the morning. Why can't every night just be like that? It was such a good night to end the first week of school.

But I left my camera at church two weeks ago, and I haven't been back to see if I can find it yet. I really hope its still there...

I guess I'm a pretty stable person. I mean, I think I am. And I like that. My impulsive moments have only gotten me into trouble in the past anyway, so I guess it's good, no matter how boring things get, that I'm not in trouble... right?

I don't kiss boys. I don't go on trips. I don't do drugs. I don't take work off. I don't call in sick (much). I don't take chances. I don't break the speed limit (much). I don't go snowboarding because I might break something. And I don't fall in love.

My heart beats in its cage.

"I've been to hell and back so many times I must admit you kinda bore me.."
Ray LaMontagne

I kinda like school. I've got painting with Alison, which is a miracle from the Lord. I'm stoked about that. And today I went to my creative writing class, and I like it too. Originally I was going to get it switched for English 3600, but I love the teacher, and I really just want to write anyway, so why would I change that? I get to sit around in a circle with kids who dress like me, and like the same stuff I do, and I get to write; why would someone just throw that away? Not gonna do it. So that was great.

Today was amazing. I woke up at noon, after a night of making brownies with Shannon and playing Mafia with hillbilly rockstars from North Carolina. I made myself some french toast, only to find we had no syrup, so I went grocery shopping immediately. I came home, finished my breakfast, got some mail from China, and went to school. (I'm going in rewind for you, you see). Then, after school I met Ashley and we had really good adventures like we did in the old days when we were both very single. And as much as I love Billy for her, I really wish I could have those days back. All the time.

Then I ended the night with bowling and really good music, and eating spaghetti in my underpants. You can't really beat that. I've tried.

i see minutes turn into more minutes
and still my heart is beating fine
not a machine
but not a breakdown either
fine it's beating fine

if you take the picture, and you cut it in half, and there is still me, where'd you go? why're you evaporating?
if you take a breath, and you cut yourself in half, which part is still me, and which part is still you?
and when we are cold upon waking in separate beds,
do you ever pray for the minutes to go away before you see me again..
I wanna know if you're even there with your eyes closed behind your glasses, and your coffee sitting cold in it's cup.

"He tells me that when I wake him up, speaking Russian, that I am still asleep."
"You mean he doesn't know Russian?"
"No."
"And how long have you been together?"
"Four years."
"And he never learned any Russian?"
"No. I think he knows maybe three words," Tanya told me.

I think it's funny, that you would be with someone that long and not even bother to try to learn their language. Especially when they are living together. They say that the best way to learn a language is to have a lover that speaks that language. And hell, if I had a Russian lover, I would learn Russian.

where does the good go

Every day is a little bit the same now, but it doesn't scare me as much as it used to. Developing a routine has established some sanity, and I would not be scared to keep living the way I am living now for a long while.
But it will change.

I don't feel like growing older, but I feel like I want to be comfortable in this skin. I want it to fit me, and I want to be happy. As temporary as happy is.

HEAD. Ache.

are you living the dream, or are you sleeping it

I'm sorry that I've obviously been a catastrophe of moods lately. I think for several weeks now I've gone from really high highs to very low consistently, all day long, every few minutes or so. I've been fighting my flesh.

my flesh is a very bad person. I wage war with it everyday. One part of it says that I need to have the new experiences, that having what I want is just fine. I'm saved by Grace. And then the reasonable part says that living for Christ and dying to the flesh is always the better choice, and will always be what I come back around to anyway.
So why waste time?
why?