Thursday, September 30, 2004

Ummm. . . .

I was going to tell you something and then I forgot! Something about. . . Well, I don't even remember that.

Ug. I have an exam tomorrow. Wish me well!

Oh, I found this. . . what do I call it. . . starts with an m. . .
Well, it doesnt matter,

Anyway, Lets start a chain. You can ask me any six questions and I must answer them completely honestly, but then I get to ask you six questions in return. Okay? Good. You start.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Wearing my big, green, fleece, robe.

My mom and I just got all the fleecey, fluffy, fuzzy stuff out of the storage bins in the closet. Yum.

A long list of me.

I still lick the spatula when my mom makes brownies.
I chew my bottom lip when Im nervous.
I look at my paper when I don't know the answer to a question in class.
I am afraid to talk to teenagers I do not know.
I sing really loud when Im alone in my car.
I stop when I get to a red light.
I turn my music up loud and roll my windows down and hope every hears so they know how cool I am.
I know I am not cool.
I make sure I am completely enfolded in covers before I turn the light out.
I do everything at the last minute.
I am usually early.
I like my job.
I like it when people touch my hair.
It makes me nervous when people touch me (hair included)
I was once hugged by a complete stranger.
I liked it.
Friendliness is the second thing I notice in a guy.
A smile is the first.
I am offended by cuss words.
I hate the word "aint"
I don't like country music or rap in most cases.
I have no compassion for those who do not help themselves.
I have no compassion for those that blame their circumstances on everyone/thing else.
I am socially/emotionally crippled by my own insecurities.
I need lots of reassurance.
I am more sensitive than I pretend to be.
I do not like to hang out in groups.
My family will always come first.
I procrastinate. Often.
I like having pictures of those I love.
I always forget to take my camera.
I communicate much better in writing.
I would rather use the computer than a pen.
You are beautiful because I love you, not the other way around.
I lie.
I spend too much time on the internet.

Do we share any of these?

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Be my escape - Relient K

" . . . And I've been housing all this doubt, and insecurity
and I've been locked inside that house
all the while you hold the key
and I've been dying to get out
and that might be the death of me."

Rainbow Bright

The light bulb was surrounded in a auro of colored light, but it faded with the fog on my glasses.

Your go-to girl.

Let me be
your
go-to girl.
Let mine be
the shoulder
you cry on.
I want to be strong
for you.
I wanna love you
oh,
like you've never been loved before.
And like I've never loved before.
I have had
salt stains
on my fingers before,
I can hold your tears too.
I will cradle you
when you feel broken.
Or just when you need
to be cradled.
When you are falling over
I can prop you up.
Let me be your
happy times.


When I'm done being
Honestly me
let me see
honestly you.

Let me be your
go-to girl.

Go already.

You can now listen to four Relient K songs at Purevolume. Excuse me? Why are you still here? I said RELIENT K SONGS ARE AVAILABLE AT PURE VOLUME! GO LISTEN!

Monday, September 27, 2004

Boogie boogie boogie

I was talking to Joanie today and she said that they have internet cafe's in china, so I can blog from china. That will be exciting. That way, I can tell you everything. Besides, I do not think I could go two weeks without blogging, and I do not want to actually write a real journal with paper and pen. That is sooooo 20th century. Hehe.

I got my book, The Color of Distance by Amy Thomson, in the mail today! I won it on ebay. Yeah, so Im going to go read now.

Oh, and they are finally remodeling Fashion Bug. Funness. Smells like paint in there. Story: Jenelle and I were the only ones in the store for like the last half hour before we closed. We were talking and moving the bras to a new area and I heard the noise that the hangers make when you move them on a rounder, I know, very specific, but I heard it toward the front of the store. My first thought : There is a customer at the front of the store and I did not greet her! So, I walked up there and there was no one. Then, Jenelle comes screaming for me asking where I was, because the table cloth was moving on a table on the other side of the store. She told me to check under the table. There was nothing, but we were freaked out nonetheless. Christy always says Fashion Bug was built on an ancient Indian burial ground. . .

You, with me nearby.

The world is melting away, and all that is left is me and you. You, with me nearby. Me, with you all around. And all those things I was chasing have disappeared and the only thing left is the distance between us, the distance created by my vanished ambitions. I always get so distracted. I spent too much time on the temporary, when you are all that matters. And all these feelings flood my consciousness, but this relationship cannot be based on feelings, but truth, like what I am with you. The best parts of me are you.

"Running from you is what my best defense is. I so hate consequences, cus I know that I let you down, and I don't want to deal with that." -Relient K

"I'm sorry for the person I became. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change." -Relient K

Sunday, September 26, 2004

Ice queen in the sky.

Ashley straightened my hair before the party. Then it went wavy. Now its curly again. I like it curly.

The moon was beautiful today.
I smelled winter in the air, and it was invigorating.

Now in this relationship there is that awkward silence when a certain subject comes up that was not there before, makes me sad. It may be my fault, but I am defensive. If someone hurts me once, I do not give them the opportunity to repeat it. I closed you out of my life in this spot, and I'm sorry, but I never stick my hand in the flame a second time.

Yeah, just had to say that.

Im all RK obsessed for the. . . um. . . . Season? Because Im pretty sure this will last until after the new cd comes out, in November. If I talk too much about them, tell me.

I want to do something. I want to go somewhere, just me and you, because I dont like crowds. I dont like groups. I was going to go to the haunted trail last night, but then it turned into a big group of people I did not know, so I opted out. And when I say I do not want to go, do not ask me why or try to change my mind, that just aggravates me. Yeah.

I miss Katy and Rachel.
I miss Sarah.
I miss you.

Friday, September 24, 2004

And MWAH for Ashley!

Yay for Ashley! Shes gonna go to the concert with me! I love you! My new mission in life: to spread the gospel of Relient K. Heh.

So I took a nap today and I dreamed I went to Meijers and got stopped by security for some reason. Anyway, the two security guys were Native Americans and they knocked me over and started doing some kind of tribal chant, and I thought it was really cute so I asked them if we could exchange email addressees and for some reason they could not give me theirs because they were going back to Texas. So, I got a piece of paper to write down mine but I kept writing it down wrong, it was really frustrating. And our time was short and I did not give it to them in time.

And amazingly enough, I know exactly where this dream came from. It was me subconsciously thinking of you, windwalker. And eh, I need to get a life.

Ug, and old feelings coming back to haunt me. I dont even have to see this person to start to like him again. Have not seen him forever. Oh well, I will forget soon and it will pass.

And I still have not done my math homework.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

Pregnant Nun?

I Need To Change.

First of all, I need to stop doing this thing where I am all excited about stuff when I first start them and then I stop caring at all soon after that and I end up procrastinating and procrastinating and stressing myself out and hating the very thing I was excited about in the first place.

Second, I need to become a nun or something. Ill just commit my life to the Lord and he can make men invisible to me or some such. Well, Im not entirely sure that will work, I want babies, like twelve of them, and I cannot do that by myself. Well, okay, I can. Adoption. Invitro fertilization. Oh, and Im not catholic. But you get the idea.

Because you see, when it comes to boys, all my self esteem goes right out the window. Well, that's not to say that my self esteem is present at all other times.

I go back and forth with my relationship with God. I guess this is evident from my poetry. More often than not, my poems are for Him. Well, again, not entirely true. I write poetry for me, they are an expression of me. And I can say "you" and mean God in the first stanza and my brother in the second stanza and they boy I like in the third and . . .

Im so. . . Inconsistent.

And right now I am not happy with myself because I should be doing homework. And that, I will go do now.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

"All I really want to do is to fall into / The emptiness that is / The space in between us / Erase it and bring us together again" - Building 429

Starving for attention and reassurance,
even though you said you loved me
tell me again
tell me everyday
as I slowly
Oh, so slowly
back away.
Looking for you
I smile at you
into your eyes
hoping you can feel me
can you feel the way I feel for you?
When I look at you?
Am I as transparent
as I try not to be?
(Last night
I was remembering
the times when we
would hide in the closet
under the stairs,
our secret fort,
our space.)
The voices in my head
tell me
I will never be good enough for you
for anyone.
(You tell me different.)
But the voices in my head
are with me
everyday.
(And you are not.)
Alone here,
feeling
as always,
inadequate.

Beauty and the Beast. . . in me.

Last night I was looking at myself in the mirror in the dark, and for a moment, in those vast black spaces we call "pupils" I saw my inner beauty, and I saw my inner beast, and it scared me. Instantly, those invisible shutters flipped down and they were just eyes again, no longer windows. And now I wonder, has anyone ever seen in my eyes what I saw last night? And it frightens me. And it excites me too.


Sunday, September 19, 2004

All of me.

My fingers dance over the keyboard
that familiar dance
typing all those words
I always type
like
sarajo7373
and my passwords
and the word " you"
and they know exactly where to go
I don't have to look anymore
I can look at the screen
watch all my mistakes show up
even though,
my fingers know the mistakes
before my eyes do
funny,
my mouth usually knows mistakes too
before my ears do
when I say "oops"
or "I mean"
and I say "Huh?"
and sometimes I hear what you said
because then,
my ears know
before my mouth does
funny,
I think.
Seems like
all of me
should try to get along
with all of me.

Saturday, September 18, 2004

To quote Relient K:

"I'm still waiting for you to be the one I'm waiting for."

Have you ever had someone speak you heart, before you even put it into words?

Friday, September 17, 2004

Mourning me.

Mom and Dad are watching one of those good guy vs. bad guy, shooting, stuff blowing up, cop and criminal movies. I just hate those. I cant wait for it to be over so we can watch the scary movie. Last night I watched one and I had to make sure I kept my jaw locked closed so that I did not bite my tongue during the scary parts (cus you know, I only pretend to be brave, I would rather have someone to hold on to.)

I lost a poem. Still haven't found it. I remember the end

I am thankful
that the stars
and the sky
have left me alone
with her tonight.

And I remember the beginning now:

The sky
and space
are nonexistent tonight
I could reach out
and dip my fingers
in the moon.

And the middle:

I am floating toward
the life-giving fire.

But there is so much more. I mourn me, because that's what I have lost here. A shard of me. Part of my broken mirror from freshmen year poetry contest. Ah, I am so inspired by my peers. Some great poets : Pappy Venturella, Laura Runyan, and Justin Teager, I think. That was him, right? At last years poetry reading thing? I think so anyway.

Hmm, my bedroom door just opened itself. Scary.

Anyway, it was a boy, sitting to my left, over there further away from the door than I was. His poems were in a notebook. I cannot see a face now, I forget. I thought it was Justin Teager. But I do remember Laura Runyan and her poem about the sea. And I remember Pappy Venturalla, his poems were always very different, and it made me feel conventional, ordinary. I wanted to be unique too.

Anyway, um, I just wanted to say to these people, I enjoyed your poetry.

Yeah, I wont say anymore for fear of being weird. I just appreciated them, my peers.

Im gonna go now, watch a scary movie.

and another line from that poem I forgot:

the blackness
of the great beyond.


Talking for my own comfort.

My heart is beating fast. My loyalties are torn. I do not know which one to turn to. I tell one, and I hurt the other. I give this thing to one, even if the other doesn't know, I hurt them. I know who I will choose. I know I will face the wrath of the other. Why cannot they work together? Why must we be perpetually set up in two camps: his and hers. I will tell him. I will give it to him. And she will rage because of it. Maybe neither one of them would be good, but I cannot keep it for myself, it is not mine, as much as I would like to have it. Mine is coming soon enough, and thank you to those that gave it to me. So I wait. I wait for them to get home. If I tell him in secret, she will not anger for awhile. If I tell him in front of her, they will fight all weekend. Must tell him when she is not around. Must be secret. I hate this. I really hate this. But I am glad that it fell into my hands instead of in hers, who knows what she might have done with it? But what is strange, is that it usually would have gone straight to her. Why did it come this way, the way that I could have intercepted? And I mightn't have done it, but something told me to. Something did. Eh, I wait. So, I will sit here and wait for them. The time seems long. So, so long.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Hustler!

I went to hustler today. Yes, I did. All I can say is, um wow. So now, I never have to go back there again. It was eh. . . interesting. I have been mind-raped! Well, I went there willingly with full knowledge of what I might see. Oh well. It was fun. We saw lots of dirty old men looking at porn in there. And we got I.D.ed, if that is a word. That was awesome. I was like, "Yes, I do have my i.d.!" Hehe. There were things in there that I could never even make up. Wow.

*Trying to erase memories*

Would I do it again if I could go back in time? Of course. Yep, just like buying those lottery tickets and that pack of cigarettes. Did it one, never again.

I cried on my 18th birthday. I remember that.

Umm, homework to do. I am feeling very poetic but I fear I might share something I do not wish to share. And some of you can read me too well.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Amber and Autumn

Spinning, swirling
into a beautiful nothing
in your hands
and always for you.

My life could be measured
in reactions to you
wind blowing through my hair
and radiant winter.

Your words,
my life,
my death,
my joy,
my disappointment,
and always for you.

I am warm vanilla,
amber light,
and benevolence.
I am autumn.

And you still,
are all things.
Softly Spoken
words that
set my heart afire.
The color of a stormy sunset
and the cool December stars.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Always, Always

I finished a romance novel today. It was the story of two soul mates, reincarnated into another life. The person that was a she in the first life was a he in the second and he remembered everything from the former life. The person that was the he in the first life was a she in the second and she remembered nothing. And to add a twist, the females in both cases were sirens (except that the new she did not know that she was a siren, she was even afraid of water) Anyway, to end the confusion, I ended the book and made an audible sigh. And I thought. . . if only . . . but then. . . what if this was the first life and I had yet to find the soul mate? But, sometimes I feel so old to be so young. Maybe he is out there, as I think of him now. I am smart and patient enough to wait. Ah, I await you. Always, Always.

So that's darkness.

I was sprawled diagonally across my bed, (in the most un-ladylike fashion) head at the bottom of the bed, feet on the headboard, reading. There were pillows under me, near me, by my head, by my feet, and blankets all wrapped around me. In short, I was immensely enjoying myself.

Then, the world went black and silent. The soothing hum of the air conditioner was replaced by the sound of the fan spinning slower and s l o w e r and the stopping. The lights went out. The warm red glow of my alarm clock was gone. The insistent green flickering of the stereo died. The famiar box of golden light streaming through the cracks of my bedroom door frame could not be seen. No light from the street lamps spilled through my curtains. Darkness. Silence. And I staring at the place where my book should be.

So first, I waited for my eyes to adjust. They did not. It was sickening foriegn blackness sucking at me. I threw the blankets over my head until the air I breathed was too hot and humid. I gathered up my courage, climbed off the bed, tripped over pillows and blankets and cords and trash cans (Note to self: clean room) and fumbled toward the general direction of my door. My thoughts: Please tell me they paid the electric bill. Is this how it feels to be blind? Why don't I have a flashlight in here? Whats touching my foot!?!? I just knocked something over. Doorknob! I pulled open the door and I was granted with a little starlight seeping in through the blinds in the hallway. I walked down the stairs very carefully and into the living room. The front door was open. I discovered all of my neighbors standing out on their front porches shouting: . . . blew a transformer. . . don't have lights either. . . over there. See the truck?. . . be out long?. . . be so bad if I was sleepin. . . was watching tv when. . . My mom was standing near the road taking place in this group conversation. She had a flashlight. We went back inside. A few minutes later the power came back on. I went back upstairs and climbed back on the bed in the most un-ladylike fashion. . .

Monday, September 13, 2004

Here I am.

I stand here watching you wade through the jungle of my expectations
you trip over the contradictions
get lost in the fogginess of vague allusions
reach out for me, or someone
in the din of it all
as I hide in the swamp
of self-doubt
and fear of rejection
waiting for you
to come
rescue
me.

Lets go see a scary movie together!

I watched Resident Evil: Apocolypse last night. I swear I almost hit myself in the head one time when I jumped. Something scary happened and my hands just made a beeline for my face. I was terrified twice over. I jumped so many times, it was beautiful. I was holding on to Ashleys arm about half the time. Scary movies are great to watch with other people cus then you can hold on to each other and not be ashamed for it.

I used to play resident evil religiously. My favorite was RE 3: Nemesis. I liked shooting stuff and solving the puzzles, but mostly being scared. I would throw the remote at my brother everytime something really scary happened. Ahh, good times.

Umm, So I could not post earlier and it frustrated me so I made a post here instead. Well, Im off to do homework. Just thought I would share my movie going experience with you.

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Befriend me at Myspace.

So today I got a profile at myspace. Here it is. I guess I can keep a blog there, but I dont think I will. Although it has lots more umm options, the page is just too busy for me. I like this. Ill stay here. Can I be both places at once? We will see.

And eating soggy funnel cake.

Have spent all of my free time reading a dirty romance novel today. I did not know that it was dirty when I started it, but then by the time it got dirty, I was too into the book to put it down. I never did read My Fair Viking, by the way. This book, The Last Mermaid, is pretty good so far. Although, when it is romance, quality is not really an issue for me. I will say that no one could ever beat P.C. Cast. Ever. That woman is a goddess with words.

And. . . Oh, I had math class this morning. Had my first test as a college student! I thought I did well, we will see next Saturday. I knew how to answer all the questions anyway. Thats a good sign, right? Oh, and I saw Johnna. That was happy. I wasn't quite sure if it was her. She was walking behind me and I did not want to stop and stare, so I just walked slower. Yep, it was her.

And Friday I saw Ashley at school. I miss you! Lets go to the movies! Lets hang out! I miss you!

Went to the grocery store with dad today. I got mint chocolate chip frosting. Will it be good? I don't know either. I would set up a poll but then, I don't know how and then, does anyone read this anyway? Yeah, so, yeah.

Well, you are reading it. And I love you for it! (well, and other reasons too, of course.) Like the way you. . .

Umm. . . I want to make a cheeseball. How do I do that?

Friday, September 10, 2004

Misty Morning Memories

It reminded me of the night we spent at the pioneer village. We slept in the meeting house in our petticoats. And I thought it most exciting and terrifying that there were men and boys as well as girls and women in the room. Because you know, there is nothing sexier than a man in 1800 clothes. And it stormed that night, and the door was open all night. And I thought, a fox is going to come in here and attack me. And the candlestick caught on fire like a torch. And we played cards. And the next morning we had to wade to the outhouse. It was so cold and foggy and everything smelled like smoke. We ate breakfast that was cooked over the fire. And that was exciting. We were excited and miserable. We went home a day early. And for a week after I would get my skirts out just to smell the smoke. Katy, you bring out the weird in me, and I love you for it.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Look, I made links!

I just saw Hanson on the Sharon Osborne Show. It made me feel all those girly feelings that I used to feel when I was obsessed. Well, no. It made me remember how those feelings felt. I am not obsessed with Hanson anymore. I do not need to go buy the albulm or see the concert or anything. It was awful when I felt that way, when I had the pictures on my walls and I listened to the music everyday and I thought the greatest thing ever would be to meet them and I was sure it was my destiny to marry Taylor. That sucked, to wish for something so unattainable. At least with guys I know, there is a chance. Do you know what I mean?

Now I like Relient K. But I do not have pictures on my walls of them. I only know that the lead singers name is Matt T. and that they are from Canton, OH. I do not know their birthdays and I have no plans of marrying any one of them, let alone meeting them. I love the music, not the band. And this is healthy. If ever I start to slip into that teenage girl obsession with a band, I will run away. Quickly.

Hey, you should watch this.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Belated apology to someone who will not read it anyway.

First, I was taking a shower today and realized that the only soap we have upstairs is a tiny sliver of soap that disappears when one tries to put it on the rag. What a sorry excuse for soap. We should have some kind of rule that whenever the soap gets to a certain point, the last person using it should be responsible for notifying the proper authorities, my dad, so that the soap can be replaced. I have actually opened a bar of soap and hidden it before to see how long the rest of the family will use the sliver before they take action, like opening a new box. The results were disappointing.

Second, I felt a momentary pang of guilt over last summer. I am sorry. I let the judgments of my peers become my own. I was mean. I feel bad about it. And maybe I was not openly mean, but I did talk about someone, and I feel horrible about it. I am sorry. I really really am. I have no place to judge you. Forgive me.

You are beautiful.

Today, I was all by myself,
and I laughed out loud.
And then I looked around
to see if anyone noticed
just like I do
when I think of you
and blush.

And the girls I tell
they say your name
just to see
my face turn red.
(But you would never see that.)

But more often,
I duck my head
let my hair cover my eyes
turn away
or walk away
and pretend to be upset.
But, I would never be upset
over a thing so small.



Just a poem for all the boys I have ever liked. It is deplorable, to show this teenage side of me, always longing to be more mature. But, I said I would be Honestly Me, so here I go. Because yes, I am a teenager, and yes, I do have crushes on boys. I never had a crush on a boy just because he was cute. No, I always liked the boys that were nice to me, because I always felt I was not worthy of that. Most times, I avoid boys and so, they me. The boys I have liked, are the ones that talked to me anyway. I had a notion to list them here, but for fear, I will not. What if one of them read this?!? And then I had to see him again somewhere, in a grocery store, at a party? Would we laugh about it? I can say I liked Matt Daily in fourth grade, because I told him. In fifth grade I liked Kyle Frisch. *cringe* isn't it funny to look at how much people have changed? And its sad to think I knew him when he could have been anything. . .

And it is weird how I can see someone I liked in middle school and still let out an inward sigh. Because yes, I do like him still. Would I ever go out with him or anything? Well, no. Just, fascinated with memories I would say.

I feel awfully vulnerable saying all this.

I do not know how it is with guys. I wish I had someone to tell me. I asked my brothers. Well, James is gay so I could not really use his experience as the norm. And Chris is such a. . . "playa" "pimp" that he thinks all females lust after him to begin with. Sigh.

I would say, for girls, or at least for me, crushing is a very girly process. Wow, hes just so nice. And I find that people in general become more and more beautiful the more I know them, or the opposite. Like, maybe a girl is so pretty, but she is mean or conceited or something, its just like she becomes just as ugly as her personality. But maybe someone I love is just the most beautiful person, and I cannot understand why the world does not see things my way. I say this because I have had experiences when I share with my friends who I like and they say, "Him?" or "Eww" or something and I do not get it. People all get old and ugly anyway.

And I feel uncomfortable around attractive people, beautiful people. You know the ones. How could I ever have a relationship with someone I felt was "out of my league?" I would forever feel inadequate. And this is okay with me.

Now I know someone is going to ask me, "Are You comfortable around me?" and I'll say ,"Yes" and then they will say " So you think I'm ugly?" I can see it now. Don't even do that. I think you are beautiful. If I love you, I cannot see you any other way. When I look at you, all I see is how much I like you. I see all of the good times. I see how you make me feel. I see my affection for you. How could I see you as anything but beautiful?

And I hate to see you sad or hurt. When I do, I just want to comfort you and make it better. Ever, if you need me, I will be there for you. I just want to know you, and that means the sorrow too. And its okay if we have talked about how awful your mom or your brother or your sister is a thousand times, because you have done the same for me.

Wow, I have just jumped from one thing to another to another tonight. I have said enough for now. I have to share the scary things in small doses, or I back out. I was going to erase this poem, but I decided to explain it instead. Meh, that's all.

That dream place.

those dreams we had
when we thought of one another
You said we could meet there
in the dream place.
And try as I might
I never reached the place
we set out to meet.

And maybe that is why
we do not know one another
anymore
and you have gone away from me
to another place
far different
from our dream place

And childhood memories
I have with you
walking on my front porch
round and round
and the night
we played in your basement
and we tried to summon
spirits of one kind
or another.

Those plans we made
promised to follow
knowing all along
that we would not.
Maybe I mourn for them
or maybe just lost friends.

Now I think of you
less often than
I thought I would
more often than
I would like to.

And through all the
memories
spaces
and strange happenings
I just wanted to say

Thank you.

Now, my spoon is smooth.

I do not remember what I dreamed last night and that makes me sad. Stupid alarm clock.

I got some sand paper and I sanded my wooden spoon like the instructions said. Makes me feel a sense of accomplishment. In the hardware store today, I thought for sure someone would escort me out and point me toward the fabric store or something. Big scary men carrying lumber and other various men-things were going about and would look at me curiously. I guess the fact that I looked completely lost might have helped make matters worse. I so should have worn my bonnet and some petticoats. . .

I took a nap today. It was beautiful. Like I even needed a nap, but who cares? My dream from my nap is vague. The phone kept ringing and waking me up. I unplugged it. No, that's not what I dreamed, that's what happened. Anyway, something about it being easy to enter but not so to leave. And two people went with me. And it was down. In an elevator maybe. Down. Down.

Oh, homework. That's what I should be doing. Farewell, friend.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Attn: HST 112 Canceled due to: ILL

My HST 112 class was canceled due to illness. Although this is pretty awesome, I did not bring any other books with me today, so I cannot do homework here, and I must stay because my next class starts at 10. Oh well, guess I could do a little reading for history.

These keys make more noise than the keyboard at my house. It makes it sound like I am typing really fast. I should get one of these for my room, a vanity keyboard. No. I am uncomfortable. Everything is in the wrong place. The screen should be higher and chair should be lower. Wow, I am whining. I'll stop.

If I go home, I will have enough time to get there, watch my mom sleep for 15 minutes, and come back. What to do. . . what to do.

Well, I am pretty sure these computers are meant for educational uses. . .

I know! I can work on my natural gas project. Okay, well, I will most certainly write back later.

Monday, September 06, 2004

This pain is my art.

Feeling poetic today. It is a certain mood and emotion. A color that I cannot describe. But the deepest desire when I feel this way, is to be known. I will not hide this from you. I think that is what the radio show was talking about when they said intimacy. To completely know and be comfortable with another human being. I long for this. To be known. To know. I feel it like an ache in my muscles. It pulses through my fingers. This pain is my art. Behold it. Behold me.

To make you smile.

I want to say something beautiful.
I want to leave you speechless.
I want to make you smile.
I want to embrace happiness.
I want to embrace children.
I want to embrace you.
I want to see forever.
I want to be beautiful.
I want to worry less.
I want to smile always.
I want to sing out loud.
I want to make something.
I want to break something.
I want to love harder.
I want to be braver.
I want to spell better.
I want to learn everything.
I want to talk with you.
I want to fix you.
I want to touch someone.
I want someone to touch me.
I want to change someone for the better.
I want to be changed for the better.
I want to read more.
I want be more open.
I want to write more poetry.
I want to tell you this one thing.
I want you to say this one thing to me.

and at that,
I can think of nothing I want more.

Change is Good - especially when its tens and twenties.

Last night I dreamt you wrote me a letter that said everything I wanted to hear, again. And when I woke up, I was excited at the thought of it, at the thought of you, until I realized that it was only a dream. And I miss you even though I have never seen you, and that makes me feel foolish.

And I dreamt of the ocean. I have never seen the ocean before. I do not know what it sounds like or what it smells like, but I dreamt of it anyway. Try to find logic in dreams, I dare you.

And I dreamt of something else, oh yes, now I remember. I was alone in a dark house with too many windows. And there was a chaise lounge in the darkness. I looked out the window near the door, because I was waiting for someone, but they had not come for me. I was waiting alone in the darkness, and you came. And I could rest upon the lounge because in your presence, I knew the absence of fear. I was comforted just by you standing there, and the darkness left me. For although I wait for one who does not come for me, you come to me. Even in darkness and fear.

Sunday, September 05, 2004

Burning wood and maple sugar candy.

This is odd. I smell burning wood, but I do not. I hold the scent of it in my mind right now and it is most comforting. My days with Katy smell like burning wood and taste like maple sugar candy. And these things are comforting. I feel so in place when I am standing near a fire. Something stirs within me when I cook over the fire, watch someone else cook over the fire. And something new when I ate out of the wooden bowl for the first time. Familiar and longed for. And right now I would be content to sit near a fire with loved ones. I want to cook something and feed someone and make them happy by doing so. I want to take care of someone. And I want to wear more clothes. I always feel so naked in regular clothes after wearing my pioneer clothes. They just feel right. But my outfit is not complete, so I feel naked in those too. And maybe I do not want to dress that way everyday, but I do enjoy it. Part of me longs for the past, part of me longs for today, and part of me longs for the future. And I cannot reconcile the pieces. I was pleased today. Ahh, satisfaction. I want to go back. And the fair at new Boston was much more fulfilling then the renaissance festival. Because the Ren. Fest. felt like. . . play time maybe. And the fair at new Boston felt real.

God help you to understand this twisted soul.

And yet, I want to smell the wood burning again. I want for the bitter smoke to burn my eyes and the too harsh heat to offend my skin. And spend a night by the fire with you.

In some places.

You left me here
with this feeling
I'm feeling
alone.

Honestly
and openly
I came to you.

Bruised and
wounded
I was.

And maybe
you healed me
in some places.

And maybe
you hurt me
too.

All things considered
(which I have done thoroughly)
I know irrevocably

that I might have
loved you.

My Good Sir

I felt that way today
as I gazed upon you,
unattainable one,
and my heart
shivered at it.

I believe it was the National Anthem.

Maybe I could sing for you again today,
like the time I sang in that room
hoping you could here me
and you snuck up behind me
to listen.
Except this time,
I could look into your eyes.

And I would sing the sweetest of songs,
if it would make you happy again,
because all I ever wanted
was to see you that way.

And oh, if my lips were but made
for your happiness
it would well please me,
just to please you.

For, it brings me no end of joy
when you take pleasure
in me.

No Banality Here.

I am now the proud owner of a wooden spoon, a wooden bowl, a clay mug, a hand-woven basket, and Dr. Something or others Miracle Medicine. Apparently, it cures all sorts of ailments from dysentery, worms, baldness, old-age, depression, and spinsterhood. Katy and I got some so that we could find husbands. You know, if I don't marry by 22, I will be a spinster and no one will want me. And since I do not have a large dowry and I cannot pull a plow, I will have to make it up in other places by using Dr. Whoevers Miracle Medicine. Of course, the rich lace merchant said we could become poor lace makers if all else fails. Any single men out there of good breeding and caliber looking for a wife? I can almost cook and clean and sew. Good, strong Irish blood runs in these veins, makes for fine sons, I'd say.

Anyway, back in this century, I went to the fabric store and got some black dye for my sheets. Oh, and I went in my pioneer outfit, petticoats, shift, bodice, bonnet and all. Yes, I got some strange looks. Yes, I enjoyed it. Maybe I am a reincarnated pioneer or something. Anyway, I would love to do that more often. I did go to goodwill in my corset once. It was fun until some strange man started talking to me and asked if he could touch it. Creepy. *Cringe* He then proceeded to tell me how to lace myself into one without assistance. It sounded like he had had lots of experience doing it.

Well, I should go start the dye process, could take awhile.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

Matter-To be of importance.

I don't know
what you want this to be,
but I know
I don't like it.

Sitting here
with you so near to me
I just know
that I like it.

But then,
I'm alone again
and I don't remember
how much I liked it.

I wrote you poetry
but it doesn't even matter.
No, it does not even matter
because you know every word I think.
You know the inside of me.
You could quote myself to me.
But it doesn't even matter.
No, it does not even matter.

Because, you take the best of me
and make it better.
And you take the worst of me
and swallow it whole.

And I say things like
Nevermind
or
Not this time
or
Later, I promise, later.

And you wait.
And you wait for me.
As I run.
As I run from you.

But it doesn't even matter.
No, it does not even matter to you.

Only I matter.
Only I matter to you.

Good Day, Ma Lady.

So I saw all manner of Lords, Ladies, Gypsies, Belly dancers, Pirates, Vikings, Swordsmen, Elves, Fairies, and just nasty today. I wanted to be a Lady, wearing hoop skirts and all, but I am pretty sure that I would be a commoner. I did get to wear my corset today. That was very nice. My corset makes me feel pretty. But, I did start feeling a little sick toward the end of the day. I think that might have been a combination of corset, black velvet skirt, shift, sun, and lack of food. Anyway, I feel just fine now in my cool bedroom in my pajamas.

My glasses are really dirty. This is very distracting. I will go clean them.

Wow, its like I am not even wearing glasses. So, I guess the world isn't covered in random streaks.

I mostly just like the clothes. I wouldn't really want to go back in time or anything. I would just want to wear the pretty dresses around all the time.

I must have slept well last night because I don't remember my dream. No, that's not it. I did not sleep well at all. I remember my dreams when I wake up before the alarm; today, I did not. I guess that when I am awakened by the alarm, it is just too sudden a transition from sleeping to waking. I do not dream when people sleep with me either. I mean, when I sleep in the same room with other people like on vacations, sleep-over, staying all night and such. I do not sleep deeply because I am always aware of the other persons presence, unless I am really comfortable around the other person, like Ashley. Does anyone know me better than you?

My mom would say that she does. She knows what I do, how I behave, what my routines are, my favorite foods, movies, ect. But, I do not tell her why I do this or that, or how I feel about this or that. Well, I don't know. We have spells when we sit up all night talking about stuff, when I feel safe enough to tell her something. Then, inevitably so goes and tells someone else what I said. And I get so mad. She says, " I only told grandma" Well, if I wanted to tell grandma, I would go talk to her myself. Broken confidence. And that is why these spells are so far between.

I was going to tell you how I was about trusting someone again once trust has been broken, but I do not even know. My mother is my only example, and everything is different with her. I don't like her very much sometimes, maybe as often as not, but I love her very, very much.

I keep getting distracted from what I am writing. Everything I have written is fragmented and incomplete. Just a reflection of my thought process, I suppose.

Excitement again tomorrow too. Fair at New Boston. I hope to buy something pretty.

Im going to do some other stuff and post again later, I think. I need to roll this new thing around in my head for a bit.

Thursday, September 02, 2004

This house after us.

I am going to go pick up Emilie from school in a few minutes. I wanted to write for those few minutes.

Even as I tell you who I am, my very self changes, because who I was would never tell you so openly. I could never tell you all about me anyway. There is so much of myself I am blind to.

That new curtain is so long it pools on the floor.

Whoever lives in this house after us is going to have a time trying to paint over this black paint I have all over the place. Ha ha.

Today I was thinking about LAOIS for some reason in the middle of EDT 181. Funny stuff. I certainly wasn't engrossed in our discussion on vectors. Did I not learn that junior year of high school? Meh.

And I saw Rob Lehman and Katie Amburgey today. That was nice, I guess. Yeah, it was. Made me miss Rachel. That's why I thought about LAOIS. That was all Rachel.

I am procrastinating so bad right now.

I cannot wait to see Katy again.

Note to self: Take Camera tonight.

Anyway, time to go get the baby. Well, shes four, but shes always going to be one of the babies to me. Emile and Elisabeth, the joy of my heart.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

But I faded.

My learning through service class really got me thinking today. We are going to work with hope house this semester as our service. Anyway, Becca, our teacher person, (she is a grad student) was saying that she would be interested in starting a drive to get some of the homeless there registered to vote. I asked her if you could register to vote with no permanent address, and she did not know. I started thinking, how do they get a job with no address? Who would hire them? It seems like such a vicious cycle.

I was in the grocery store the other day and I stood there in the aisle, food everywhere I looked, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, and I thought, people are starving to death. Could not we all sacrifice some of this selection and abundance to save the lives of others? Probably not.

And I just feel so responsible. There are people living in my own community who do not know where their next meal will come from. They do not know where they will sleep or what they will do tomorrow or next week. And I complain about gas prices. It just burdens my heart with the responsibility of it all: DO SOMETHING!

But on a happier note, I do like this learning through service class. It is only one credit hour. We meet two hours a week so class will be over October 14. That means that after October 14th I will get out of school at 10 o'clock on Monday, Wednesday, Friday! I think that is so awesome. Of course, I do not want to wish away a month and a half, but still.

Oh, and we should have referrals by then, and I will know when I get to meet Caitlynn or however its spelled.

And I think Jon should be out of basic training by then. Maybe. But I do not want to talk much about that, if you do not already know. We'll see. I never know if people are sincere when they tell me things. I am.

Now I am all sad and full of anxiety. I need to move away from this line of thought.

Okay so. . . tomorrow I am staying all night at Ashelys with Elisabeth and Emilie and I am going to give everyone pedicures. That will be fun. Maybe I can go buy some facial masks and we can just have a spa night.

Linda has her surgery Friday. Pray for her if you pray. Send her positive energy or good thoughts or something. I am worried.

I finally figured out how to put a picture on my profile, I was so excited! Apparently when a website has a link for "support" or "help" it is there for help and support. Heh.

I found an old fragment of a poem I started to write on June 17. I can't decide whether or not to finish it.

This is who I used to be,
(but I faded along with the pink
In that t-shirt I always wore)


But, I am not the same person I was when I wrote that.


I was driving home from Ashleys (or your) house today and I listened to 93.3 WAKW. Its Christian radio. Anyway, I tuned in in the middle of a talk show. The focus of the show was intimacy in marriage. The guy (whose name I do not know) said that in todays culture, intimacy is confused with sex, and they are not the same thing. Intimacy is being able to be completely real, honest, figuratively naked, with the person you are married to. They talked about how all people have this base desire, and how we try to fill it with other things. They said that it is difficult and scary to be intimate with another person, especially today, when marriage's are so completely temporary, and that people open up to one another only to have the relationship dissolve and be hurt. Then, in future relationships this past hurt makes people recoil from the very thing their soul desires.

That last line is what hit me. "You then recoil from the very thing your soul desires." And this had nothing to do with male/female relationships for me. This is what I have been doing with my relationship with God. I recoil from the very thing I desire. I cannot be whole without God. I cannot be happy without God. But. . . there is something. I keep recoiling, running, turning away. Everytime. I remember how I felt at that mercyme concert, at spirit song, at SOS. I have felt the presence of God (please do not roll your eyes at me at this point) and then I leave those places and I am here in my room, and I feel so abandoned.


And how can He love me? He, who knows my every misstep, my flaws, my mistakes. How can He see all this and love me still? How can You? And I mess up everytime. I fail everytime. And still You are there, saying You still love me. I cannot fathom a love that big.


And I look at the sky, because that is the biggest thing I know. And You say you are bigger than that. This makes me feel so small, so insignificant. You say you clothe even the flowers in the field. And I think when I pray, I am not the only one talking to You.


Here I am, so full of doubt. And some days, I know without a doubt, You exist. And then, I doubt myself. If I do not believe in you, why do I talk to you?


And I heard a song, Missing Person by Michael W. Smith today.


Missing Person

music by Michael W. Smith and Wayne Kirkpatrick


Another question in me
One for the powers that be
It's got me thrown
And so I put on my poker face
And try to figure it out
This undeniable doubt
A common occurrence
Feeling so out of place


Guarded and cynical now
Can't help but wondering how
My heart evolved into
A rock beating inside of me
So I reel
Such a stoic ordeal
Where's that feeling that I don't feel


Chorus:
There was a boy who had the faith to move a mountain
And like a child he would believe without a reason
Without a trace, he disappeared into the void and
I've been searchin' for that missing person


Under a lavender moon
So many thoughts consume me
Who dimmed that glowing light
That once burned so bright in me
Is this a radical phase
A problematical age
That keeps me running
From all that I used to be


Is there a way to return
Is there a way to unlearn
That carnal knowledge
That's chipping away at my soul
I've been gone too long


Will I ever find my way home

He used to want to try to walk the straight and narrow
He had a fire and he could feel it in the marrow
It's been a long time and I haven't seen him lately
but I've been searchin' for that missing person.


And I was like, wow. Just wow.


Oh, well, I guess I have said enough for tonight.