Let's all just listen to Coldplay

People don't do well

Who feel over medium

Every little thing.

People like this don't always do well

Living all scrunched up with too many girls sometimes

With people who want to know every little thing.

And these people

The ones with trouble

Because they don't do well

With anything

School, men, working out;

They come up short

Every dern time.

Dern....hahahaha old folks

Young folks laughing at these barriers

One in particular with dark hair

Whose only giving thing are these words

Filling an empty space

For judging eyes

For longing hearts

Trying to make something

Out of a mix-up of letters.

So, they read it.

Critique it,

Never fully happy.

With one of

These people

Who don't do well

Listening to

"Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard"

All scrunched up

With too many girls sometimes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd3lHAEo3J4

college, Part I

First of all, I love my hall. My most favorite girls on the whole campus live across from me and in my room. They're a well-balanced swirl of intensity, curiosity, beauty, and compassion that makes me smile, proud to be a girl. My roommate is studying to be a nurse, and even though on the outside she melts practically every guy's heart who has the wonderful opportunity to meet her, she is feircely smart, and knows more about human anatomy than I ever will. Learning things inspires her, and she is well-read on a great many, many things. The first girl across from us is an MK from Morocco. Her auburn hair and sweet laugh fringe the sweetness of her kind spirit; she loves easily and with true confidence. She already believes in me, even though we just met. She speaks a mix of Moroccan Arabic, French, and English (Arafrelish?) when she talks to people from home, and her global perspective far outweighs my own due to her ability to cast out judgement and replace it with pure interest. And then, there's Jas. Oh man, has she set my feet a-movin'. Cross country runner, a mop of naturally blonde hair all atop unstoppable determination and a positive spirit that sets a room aglow. How blessed are we to know her! Us three discuss this often. She keeps our hearts running toward our dreams, and compliments first even though her popularity might give her a ticket to act otherwise. She's funny, unapologetically loyal; a true life-lover. My life is blessed each and every day by these 3...they've helped drag me out of my homesickness and worry about this whole college thing.

The only time I really feel cool here is when I ride my motor scooter around campus. It's only been a week since Lucy's arrival to school, and she's already the talk of the town. Little wicker basket strapped to the front carrying my purse and whateverelseIhappentograbwhileIrunoutalreadylatetochapel, she keeps me somewhat on time (somewhat, everyone...), and I've recently found myself anxious for my classes to end so I can experience the wind in my hair, swerving through pedestrian traffic glee that comes with turning the throttle in my palm. It's been nice to have her here, since my dorm is the FURTHEST from campus...the FURTHEST...yeah you heard me correctly. Across from us is marriage housing, and I can UNDERSTAND why they'd want those folks far away, achem achem... But why us?!? Us newly budded freshly planted-here freshmen ladies, hearts a'fire for the newness of classes and college life. Why so far away? Ah well...experience breeds learning.

So far I'm not an expert on much here. Especially not directions (apparently I take the LONGEST ROUTES POSSIBLE to get places, unbeknownst to me). I'll be sure to fill you in on new things about college I find particularly blog-worthy in the future

You want some ketchup with that catch up?

So I thought I'd write a little post sharing what I've been up to these past few days.

Today and the day before it were dedicated to a garage sale (more like a "driveway sale"..I spent too much of my time explaining to confused customers that nothing in the garage was for sale) and it was very interesting to see who showed up. Some people are dedicated garage sale shoppers, let me tell you. We had people at our house BEFORE 7, poking around in our windows to see if we were awake. Many of said shoppers lack a good foundation of manners as well as basic time-telling skills.

We sold a great many items, with one woman purchasing 11 articles of clothing in one shot, as well as our old history curriculum, and various odds and ends. You would've thought she was at Kohl's, the way she was pawing through the hangers on the clothing rack.

To celebrate, we went to one of our favorite local restaurants for dinner this evening. I wore my new jacket, because the establishment is run by a Muslim family, and I wanted to act appropriately. Of course, when I got there, more than two people were eating whilst sleeveless. Also, of course, I managed to leak a VERY GOOD AMOUNT of mediterranean sauce on the pocket of my new jacket. How lovely.

Let's just say whatever they put in the sauce has got the power, this stain may never, ever come out.

The other part of my weekend was spent creating my "corner". After happening upon some strands of mini striped, Chinese lanterns destined for the G-sale I was inspired. This damn corner took me longer than planned, because of course I couldn't use regular tape, oh no, only unsightly blue painters' tape would be permitted. This tape does a brilliant job at keeping the paint on your wall, but not such a great job at STICKING THINGS WHERE THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO GO. This tape was MESSING WITH MY VISION peop

le. I almost went all HDTV on it's behind. Anyways, the corner is a hit. The picture doesn't do it justice.

Notice my guitar in the background. You can sorta see the paper flower I made with my crafty

friend Sarah that I wound around my guitar stand.

I'm really digging bows these days. My short hair cut is lovely most of the time, until I get bored with my life and can no longer resort to my usual time waster of hair-doing. Ergo: bow making. I came upon this specific craft when I helped a florist friend make bows for the corsages of a friend's wedding. None of them made the cut...haha. This is one of the originals. I love the lavender color against my dark hair. Also, if you're considering getting a short haircut, DO IT! Most of the time I am so happy with the fact that I can just wash it and go...I only miss my longer 'do when there is nothing to do.

Sorry about the sparse blogging as of late. I am working on a *short novel cough that I will probably never finish cough* special writing project that has been sucking up all the time I allot to writing, and lashing out with a terrible case of writers' block. Ah well. I love the verses of it I have penned thus far. It is about the loss of a loved one, rebuilding, but mostly LOVE. Having a non-existent love life is kind of wonderful for me right now. This "project" is a way of escaping the everyday.

And....I keep listening to this. The lyrics are just perfect for me right now, with me about to "flee the nest" and all. I find myself getting shaky-wobbly feet all over again. It's like I'm remembering what it felt like when I didn't know how to walk. I guess watching home movies of my early years isn't helping that one :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl-VCHzS1So

"And you are not alone in this. You are not alone in this. As brothers (sisters!) we will stand and we'll hold your hand, hold your hand."

Mammaw...you rock my socks off

I'm at my grandma's house today. This woman has one of the cutest Southern accents you've ever heard, and enough furniture to fill two apartments. She's obsessed with all the cutesy (sometimes creepy...giant stuffed CLOWN with a red CONE HAT...hello...FREAKY) souvenirs she's brought back from far away places. She bakes biscuits whenever there's company, and always finishes dinner with some kind of pie or cake (last night I ate the best brownie I've ever had...topped with homemade buttercream icing, carmel, and pecans...and I don't even LIKE carmel!!). She's extremely opinionated, even more stubborn, and starts every other sentence with "well you wanna know somethin?", however I've found that the strength that resides within her under that perfectly curled auburn hair inspires me every time I'm around it. She has a fighter spirit, and even though you can try to get her down you will fail miserably every time, because survivors are LIVERS and that's just the way it is. Her lungs have not grown wary, she will state her case and STATE IT LOUD if she does not agree. I find myself searching for her within me, because she is so WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR covered in sweetness....only the most dangerous would butter up their prey with marble cake before letting them know they will not be selling that Austrian clown for $5 now. She's super independent, and she'll let you know just how. She doesn't need air conditioning to continue, and what matters most to her is that her kids are happy, not that she has a lot of money (now dressers, that's a different story :) I love her. I strive to be more like her. And what scares me the most is that I will fall in my own doubts for myself without embracing the part of me she's in.

Onlywhere

Today I visited the school I'm going to next year.

It's weird how things are. One minute you're planning your whole life somewhere so far away from everything you ever knew and never really meshed into, the next you're signed up somewhere you never really pictured yourself. But that's the funny thing about life. When we finally do step back and see the picture, it's so much more beautiful and perfect than whatever we dreamed up. I guess I wanted to blaze a trail somewhere else, pawing away at every gesture of help. I'm my own person! I should have my own place! But no place is simply one person's. This place has the potential to be mine in it's own unique way. So today didn't actually suck. I didn't spend the whole time sulking about how California is way better for me because I'm special or whatever...mopedy, mope, mope. Today I saw the charm in the cornfields. I WOKE UP and saw the beauty of the wildflowers growing next to the highway. I actually looked forward to seeing the building next to the lake, because it's already kind of familiar (thank goodness for summer camps). I didn't whine on about snow, and cookie cutters, and Mid-west. Before I got there, sure, I vented. But this time, I saw it. I had patience for this beautiful thing. I got excited about maybe traveling to different areas of adventure and then coming home to a community of people in "the middle of nowhere". Because this community, this collection of incredibly positive, 'let's be the best we can' people, turns this nowhere into a somewhere. Turns it into the onlywhere I was supposed to be, where greatness is inspired and most everyone is happy to see you and glad to know you. And so what if I don't love being a student "in general"? I think I'm gonna love being a student here.

Oh. And listen to him:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YXVMCHG-Nk

I think his song is kind of wonderful

s0uL T@Ll%

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like.

Stripped down to my soul. What would I see in the mirror? Walking down the street...

What would I want most? Absent of the need for food, soap + water, shoes, breathing...

I would want every single beautiful moment in my life, again.

I think I would want the people who smile and touch my forehead with theirs to be talking about anything, because in every word they say they touch my heart.

I'd want something soft playing in the background...something with acoustic guitar.

And I would want to feel the sun and not worry for once about skin cancer, any kind of cancer.

I wouldn't have to think about sickness or worry or death or sadness or hate.

I wouldn't have to think about all the reasons why there isn't peace in Israel.

Why there isn't peace in my hands.

Why I can't just touch something and will it to be happy.

Why I can't just see my future now, and get prepared.

For how ever many kids.

Wherever I will live.

If I'll live for something like that.

If I'll live and never see that.

And I think I would just close my eyes and be happy to be just a soul. Because I would feel bad for everyone else who had to worry about MONEY and TIME and NOT HAVING ENOUGH of things they don't really need anyway. I would just try to remember what it felt like to have my hand held because I wouldn't have hands anymore. And I would try to be a thoughtful soul, because there wouldn't be a need for thoughts anymore...or electricity. And I would just sleep in the flowers so I could smell like them, I think. And I would just whisper loudly about how important it is to really see someone for all the good that's inside of them, and wish that someone, preferably someone small, would here me.

If I was just a soul.

From Coughing-ville with Love

So I'm sick now. Yeppers. Prom's on Friday. Feeling really unhappy.

I went to the doctor yesterday...with my dad. Those of you out there who have dads understand me when I say that THIS WAS AWKWARD. I mean, seriously, who wants their upper-thirties, yuppy, Mary Kay lipglossed, youngish doctor asking about "your last menstrual cycle" with daddy-o in the room? Yep, not me folks. Anyway, I knew there were going to be "issues" before we even got there, as he was singing the doctor's last name at the top of his lungs. Let's just say she has a funny last name that sounds like "Phooey"...and he kept singing "Hey Dr. ........., how do you dooey?" I find that grown men find these precious nuggets of time where they can connect with their juvenile boyhood roots, where fart noises are not only accepted but encouraged, and making up songs about health care professionals is totally the norm.

So upon arrival, I was ever the thankful one when papi decided it was best for him to stick to the waiting room. He planted his arse in one of the oversized plastic chairs and smiled at the other people occupying the room, who just happened to be ALL WOMEN. I left him there, hoping he enjoyed whatever was playing on Lifetime overhead.

After having both nostrils, both ears and my mouth searched for any UFOs, I sat on the tissue paper sheet waiting for the brilliant doc. Do you ever notice how boring the posters are in these sort of rooms? The only semi-interesting thing I had to look at was a detailed animation of cervical cancer. If that doesn't have you jumping for joy while contemplating your next visit to your friendly neighborhood doc, I don't know what will!

So she finally breezed in....looking drop-dead stunning. How do these women do it? I mean where do you find time to shower in between checking heart beats and inspecting moles? Anyways, she informs me that "it looks like allergies" and hands me a Nasonex (for those of you living in caves, Nasonex is a saline nasal spray that burns like the dickins and smells like the sea). She tells me to keep taking my ALLERGY medication and get plenty of fluid/rest/whateverotherBSI'vehearda1,000timesbefore. ARE YOU KIDDING ME LADY? I SCHLEPPED ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE WITH MY UNWASHED HAIR AND MY MINI PACK OF KLEENEXES FOR A MINI BOTTLE OF NOSE WASH? I was certain I had broncitus. (I know I spelled that wrong, sue me). I WAS EXPECTING ANTI-BIOTICS. But no. Let's just spray our nostrils twice in each and call it a day. Gee thanks.

However, it did get me outta my Pre-calc lecture, which is miracle enough for me.

Please pray that I sound less-than-toadish for prom on Friday. I'm pretty sure I'm going no matter what, but it would be nice to not have green goo rattling around in my chest.