2012 New Years Resolutions

1. Drink More Water.

I’m pretty much convinced that I’m going through my life severely dehydrated. I also want to quit drinking so much pop, a habit college soft-drink foundations and the availability of free drinks at work has acquainted me with a little too well, so I figured choosing water more often would help me accomplish both.

2. Exercise 3 Times a Week

Fitness buffs will find this pathetic, but I have so much trouble finding the time to go to the gym! I do try to do some physical activity every day, (that really didn’t happen over break…) but dragging my butt to the gym seems to take so much effort. Next semester I have two mornings free and so if I go then and once during the weekend, I should be meeting my goal.

3. Eat Mindfully.

I need to quit mindless grazing and eating things I don’t even really want or need. Food for me is fuel, not an activity or a consolation prize. I feel better when I only eat what I need and I choose things I like and are good for me, as well as allowing myself to enjoy them.

4. Never Pick Another Zit.

I hate my acne. But ripping it apart isn’t going to make it go away, and actually makes it worse in a lot of cases. Thus, being kinder to my skin is one thing I plan to do in the upcoming year.

5. Be More Adventurous.

Born or made so, I am more reserved. I do not volunteer to take charge, I don’t go out of my comfort zone. I’m not one of those “up for anything” people and I doubt I ever will be, but it certainly won’t kill me to expand my horizons a little. It might even be very good for me.

6. Be More Charming.

My college’s motto is “Be More,” so I find these “be more” resolutions very fitting. If this one sounds weird to you, that’s alright, but I think charm is something of a dying quality. I love genuinely charming people. None of the cheesy manipulative type, mind you. Just the cheerful, bright, feminine, affable, genuine and mysterious charm that makes you interesting and fun to other people.

People Say the Darnedest Things I

People say the darnedest things when they have to give speeches or presentations. I recognize not everyone has the grasp on the English language that I was taught/blessed with...but still. Some of this is so bad I have to stifle a snicker. Public speaking is hard. Everyone is inarticulate at times, myself definitely included. Yet in what I assure you is good humor, I would like to share some of the most amusing errors I have witnessed in my final weeks of group and research presentations.

"The author died of a very popular disease."

This one I almost laughed at loud. The plague was so popular at the time, everyone just had to get their hands on it!!

"In researching this topic, I found many findings."

Did you now? Can you say redundant??

"He then contacted malaria."

By phone or e-mail?

"X muchly affects Y in that..."

I muchly imagine so.

I have to say listening to this is both painful and hysterical. So at some point I decided I needed to start collecting these to share with the world. So when I look like I'm studiously taking notes, I'm actually noting your creative and incorrect use of the English language. Yeah. I'm just that kind of person.

Ten Things I Learned From My Mama

1. We're all good at different things.
Talent comes in different forms. It's okay not to be perfect at everything.

2. Adults are people with feelings too.
Something I was very slow to grasp.

3. Laughter is the best medicine.
My Mom can laugh even when things aren't so great.

4.  You are what you eat.
My Mom's a health nut, but she did make me more aware of what I put into my body.

5. Beauty is on the inside.
Confidence, patience and humility are far more important than a perfect hair style.

6. Sometimes you lead from the back.
But sometimes you still lead from the front...

7. How to crochet
A skill I didn't learn well, but even sort of learned life lessons count, right?

8. How to make amazing cookies.
I learned this life skill slightly better as it was slightly more important to me.

9. How to make the best of a situation.
Even when there isn't a whole lot to make the best of.

10. Don't sweat the small stuff.
Or else you'll pretty much be sweating all the time. And that stinks.

May Be Meant to Be

Socks and shoes

Me and you

I puzzle how many pairs of things that

Supposedly go together

Were forced together and simply learned to coexist?

Growing Down

I miss being simple

Without pretense or presumption

Despair, or assumption.

When I was disappointed because dreams were too big,

Not because the smallest thing just wouldn’t work.

My schemas are changing.

As expectation and reality collide repeatedly,

I become the jaded observer.

What Girls and Guys on My Campus Are Wearing -Winter Edition!

1. North Face. UGH. Do these come in any color other than ugly? If they aren't boring black, they are this hideous fuchsia. I know they must be warm... but seriously? Everyone, guys and girls alike. They're seriously not that flattering.

2. Uggs. Double ugh. I loathe these boots. They are so ugly and when they get ratty and nasty... I literally cringe at the sight. Again, I understand the importance of warmth and utility, I really do. But this is uncalled for. Swear by their unsurpassed comfort all you like, but I will never, ever wear a pair.

 3. Mittens. Love these. Particularly the ones that have the fingerless gloves and then the mitten part folds over. So cute and perfect for texting.

4. Tights. Sadly these are all too rare, but I feel like giving the select stylin' few their due.Very nice, ladies. I'm impressed. And jealous.

5. Pea coats. I particularly love the brightly colored ones! The pink, teal and mustard ones were my favorites. I had to stop myself from staring. There is one guy on campus who has a lovely gray pea coat and let me tell you- that kid looks sharp. Take notes, boys. Nothing is more swoon worthy than a man in a nicely cut coat. Except maybe a man in a good hat...

6.  Muckluks. Okay. I don't know why, but these are so much cuter than Uggs. I hesitate to call them stylish, but I don't violently loathe them or feel vaguely nauseated when I see them.

7. Scarves. There are not words that can express my affection for, devotion to and adoration of the scarf. The cuteness is so intense it's painful. At least once or twice a day, I see someone wearing one I am positively enamored with. I regularly steal my roommate scarves because she has a lovely collection she never wears. Feminine, smexy and warm. What more can we ask for?

8. Hoodies. I have a complex relationship with the hooded sweatshirt. I feel it is a reprehensible article of clothing that much of the undergraduate population uses to get away with not caring. Yet I must admit they are warm and, in some cases, appropriate. But when you use them as gym wear, your outfit for class and your coat... I just feel like you're limiting yourself. And failing to flatter any curves you might have.

9. Sweatpants. I own one pair and that is too many. Wear them with a hoodie and you just look sad. Like the poster child for despair. "I've given up on any fabric that isn't cotton. My depression is too deep for even denim." I really don't mean to sound like a total and absolute snob. Wear them if you like. You might even by some miracle look half way decent in them. You are free to wear them and I am free to despise them and feel sorry for anyone wearing them, much less that poor smuck I see wanting campus all too often wearing the North Face, a hoodie, sweatpants and Uggs. That's just too much sin for any man or woman to carry around on their person.

10. Trapper Hats. Which always make me think of Kingsley. Which is an excellent connotation. Plus, it's the fake fur trend which somehow looks so fab on everyone else but I have no desire to adopt it myself. Meh. It happens.

Confused (As Usual)

I'm really not sure what to think. I'm so tired of clinging to some carefully chosen beliefs only to be disappointed by them in the end. And yet we all must believe something, even if that belief is that there is nothing to be believed. Maybe I just don't need to know. Yet can you explain that feeling of finally finding a small piece of what your heart has been searching for with any other explanation than that there is truth? There are so many complexities to believing.

Ten Awesome Things in My Life Right Now

1. Discussions with other English majors in which you compare your favorite words.

2. A girl friend who dates you to keep the creepers away.

3. The Big Bang Theory.

4. New shoes.

5. Professors who play School House Rock youtube videos in the five minutes before class starts.

6. Paths littered with crunchy leaves.

7.  When the Cafe serves the good cookies.

8. Walking back from choir singing pop songs with impromptu three part harmony.

9. Making a customer's day with a perfectly prepared stir-fry and witty conversation.

10. Too many inside jokes to count.

Little House

Yeah. So I'm wordless of late, so I just hand out Youtube videos like candy.

Don't Know Why

My latest musical obsession. You people are used to this by now. Pandora introduced me to Nora Jones and I now feel that prior to that I lived a deprived life.

Sonnet to Sleep

O soft embalmer of the still midnight!
Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleased eyes, embowered from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
O soothest Sleep! if it so please thee, close,
In the midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
Or wait the amen, ere they poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities;
Then save me, -or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
Its strength, for darkness burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed casket of my soul.

-John Keats

I Don't Wanna

I really. Really. Really. Do not feel like reading my psychology assignment. Which is due today. Ugh.

Sometimes I find psychology to be really fascinating and I love it and it clicks in my head and it's all wonderful.

But sometimes these fourty page chapters are torture. This would be one of those times.

Weekend? When do you actually start again?

Set Fire to the Rain

I. Love. This. Song.

Someone Like You, Rolling in the Deep and Set Fire to the Rain. Love, love, love.

How much awesome is Adele?

What Guys and Girls On My Campus Are Wearing

On my college campus, I see a lot of hoodies and sweatpants and other typical college wear, but there are a few things that it honestly seems like every single kid and his girlfriend are wearing.

1. TOMS. I'm not kidding. They haunt me. Everybody has a pair and I feel massively left out. Next time I stumble across $40 I'll be sure to buy a pair.
2. Battered Flip-Flops. From the guys and their ugly Adias ones (it gets worse... they wear socks with them) to the girls and their thin strappy flip flops that should have been thrown away three seasons ago.

3. Destoryed T-Shirts. For some reason my fellow students think they can make the t-shirts the college gives them for free cuter by cutting out the arm pits and fraying the edges.

4. Moccasins. As you can see, there is a lot of variety in the footwear on this campus. I have seen many, many cute pairs shuffling by.

5. Crop Tops. Before it got freezing, a lot of girls were wearing cropped tops. I actually like the looser cut crop top. They seem more relaxed and less revealing then the skin tight 90ties cropped top.

6. Black Yoga Pants and Leggings. I have seen so many panty lines through these black beauties this week, it's not even funny. And they're ALL black. I've seen like... maybe one gray pair? They're not that comfortable, people.

7. Floral Prints. So cute. I'm seriously jealous. Skirts, dresses, shoes, scarves... the flower children abound.

8. A Wrist Full of Bracelets. They were all doing this awhile ago with this horrible rubber braclets advertising everything under the sun and now it's with rope and beaded bracelets. Granted, that is a huge improvement. I'm not complaining.

9. Skinny Jeans. No colored ones though. I'm kind of disappointed. The flare trend really hasn't caught on here yet.

10. Colored Hair. We have a lot of fun pink streaks, deep brunettes and highlighted blondes. Everyone decided to dye their hair. I confess, I helped one of my friends but a reddish purple streak in her hair. And it looks awesome.

So there you have it. For better or for worse, that's what kids around here are wearing. We have some lovely fashion forward ladies and lads here also, whose outfits I admire from a far and in general, we're a decently dressed campus... I only see pajama pants in the residence halls and on weekends.

Prayer of an Alien Soul

O Center of the Scheme
Star-Flinger, Beauty-Bring, Shaping Dream!
Now as the least in all thy space I stand
An alien in a strange and lonesome land.
I lift a little voice of pigmy pain;
I hurl it out - up - down - and shall I cry in vain?
Hear thou the prayer that struggles in this song-
Let me not linger long!

I crave the boon of dying into life!
Extend a pitying knife
And let these flesh-gyves part, let me be free!
Are we not kin? Am I not part of Thee?
Am I not a ripple in a cranny of Thy Sea?
What part have I in sequent wretched eyes,
Bleer dawns, dull noons and the budding and the falling
      of leaves?
Why must I drag this chain of years,
Long rusted-red with tears?
Why must I crawl when I have wings to fly?
Behold thy child - The Winged One - it is I!
Was I not made to sing?
Yet here I lisp and twang on one unbroken string!

At times here in the dust
I lift my head, I strive to sing - I must!
The miracle of growing wraps me round
Light! Sound!
Form! Motion! Upward yearning! Outward reaching!
A universal praying, dumb beseeching!
I feel that I am more than flesh and futile,
A being ultra-carnal, super-brutal!
I understand these growing green beseechers,
These hopeful climbers and these ernest reachers!
I understand their yearnings every one,
How each tense fiber hungers for the sun!
I lay my hand upon the sturdy weed
Whose darkling purposes burst the prison-seed,
Who cleft the mud and took its light and dew,
Looked up, reached out, believe in life - and grew!
I know that we are kin;
That hope is virtue and doubt is sin;
And o'er me comes a hungering for a song:
I lift my voice - I falter.  Ah the long
Dumb years, the aching nights and days!
And yet I raise
My unavailing cacophonic cry.
Thine erstwhile singing child - behold! - Tis I!

In this strange, wretched prison of the soul
Shall I not lose my swiftness for the Goal?
It seems I must
At length become too much the kin of Dust.
Ah me, the fever born of Hate and Lust!
Ah me, the senseless unmelodic din!
Ah me, the soul-hope sick with fleshly sin!

And in my prison ancient dreams grow up
To fill with dust my cracked and thirst-betraying cup.
Dreams mantled in the purple of dead glory
That filled the aeons of human story:
Not always have I worn these dusty rags!

The Purpose of my being falters, lags,
And I am sick, sick, sick to live again.
Yet not because of this poor dust-born pain
Do I cry and grope about for Thee.
I hear the far cry of my Destiny.
Whose meaning sings beyond the farthest sun.
I faint in these red chains - O let me 'rise and run!

How long shall leaves grow green and fade and fall,
How long shall Night chase Day and Day flee Night,
How long shall my far Purpose vainly call
Ere I remingle with my native light?
O Center of the Scheme,
Star-Flinger, Beauty-Bringer, Shaping Dream!
Hear thou the prayer that struggles in this song-
Let me not linger long.

- John G Neihardt

Adele

Okay, so I'm gonna rave. Because every so often I feel some things need to be raved about. I am somewhat obsessive in my interests. Okay, a lot obsessive. I can't even imagine what people like me did before the Internet because I love to feed my obsessions with the bread crumb trail that is the Internet. And along this lovely bread crumb trail, I found some interesting things about a particular person about whom I feel the need to rave. This person is Adele. She's like Rihanna. I don't know (or even really care) what her last name is.

The first reason Adele is rave worthy is because is she is a talent. She is not "talented", she is a talent. There is a difference. I guess I feel talented people are like me. They "can" sing. People who are talents are like Adele where it seems like God made her to be what she is. She can sing, she can write song lyrics and music and she can preform. The talents are the combination that is too much to be coincidence. The talented just got one or some other to console them in their otherwise ordinary lives.

I love her voice. I love the power and control she has. She can actually sing, which is not a prerequisite for musicians in Hollywood, or so it would seem. I feel it is generally agreed that there is no one else like Adele. There just isn't. Deal with it. 

She waves her hands in the air while she sings. People who move while they play the piano or sing have a special place in my heart. Like they feel the music and they just can't stand still because they love it and they need it and when you're around them you can't help but feel it too.

Another thing- she's heavier. She doesn't look like a model. She's actually kind of fat. And I think she's drop dead gorgeous. She has a double chin and I think it's beautiful. I guess I kind of see her as one of those people who is lit up from the inside. Like her body knows that it carries an extraordinary soul inside and she shines with the confidence that comes from knowing who the heck you are.

I love Rolling in the Deep. It's been massively overplayed resulting in mass hatred towards the song. (Why do radio station murder songs like that any way? It's just appalling.) She describes it as her being like "I'm going to be fine without you." There's this fire in her heart and she certainly not her ballad about sitting on the couch crying with a tub of Ben and Jerry's in hand. Heck to the no. And yet it also has a healthy dose of appreciation for all the hopes she had... they had so much potential, they could have had it all and been rolling in the deep, for heavens sake. I guess it's a healing song to me. She's not over him, but she's getting there. It's tinged with pain and regret, but it's also powerful and hopeful in a way.

I also love Someone Like You. This is her "I am so not over you and I don't think I ever will be." song. I mean, the song is about her still not being over him after he has completely moved on. Like, wedding rings and offspring moved on. I don't know how much farther you can move on than that. I think that's universally the most tragic thing that can happen. Still loving someone when they no longer love you. It makes you doubt all the things you thought were true... doubt that you were ever loved. If he did love her, wouldn't it have worked out? How do you have that much love in a relationship and not have it work out? And then it gets worse. (Seriously. How much worse can it GET?) She asks him not to forget her. This is the part where I just wanna bawl my eyes out. "Hey, I know you've got this lovely wife and kids and everything and pretty much haven't thought of me in years until I showed up, but don't forget me... okay?" It's the heinous indignity of love.

So. Why Adele? She's a poet, a talent and a queen among woman. You look at her and you don't doubt that she has been places and done things with her sad doe eyes and a voice with so much joy and agony trapped within it. She has dignity and presence and down to earth- the kind of person that you can see drinking coffee and wearing sweat pants instead of a posh celebrity like Paris Hilton or Lady Gaga. I err in m judgement a lot, but I don't think I'm wrong about Adele. There is something real about her. She's special... just listen to her.

Anymore

Perhaps there will be more time for this in a time where time does not exist.
I have no time to open closed doors, I will not go there anymore
It is too hard for me to see the people that we used to be
I loved you but you loved me not and love again, my heart cannot
Perhaps I knew you once before, but I do not know you anymore.

14 Days...

Until I leave for college!

Where has the time gone?

Curiosities

Sometimes I wonder why I wonder so much. Is it because I am stupid or smart? Curiosity killed the cat, but perhaps it also taught him a valuable lesson or two before his tragic death. Maybe I don't wonder enough... well that would be inconvenient.

Never mind.

Problems with Chain Tag

Sometimes I am just like "Seriously. What is up with the world?" We are one messed up bunch of creatures. Human beings, that is. I think the ants are doing quite well as a race, actually. But us human beings. Goodness gosh. We have problems. Boy, do we have problems.

We hate each other. We kill each other, attack each other, hurt each other and try to bring each other down. In some ways people condone it saying its natural, animals do it and war is really part of the natural balance of power and influence in the world. Well screw it. I'm sick of it. I can't stand it. It's in us, in our blood and in our nature and it makes me sick.

We hate ourselves.  And maybe for good reasons in many cases. The heart forgives itself so slowly We hate what we've done, where we are at and where we always have been and probably always will be. I look in the mirror and I don't see much. Maybe reflections are really just that hallow. Life is a funny thing. It's never what you want it to be or what you would have wanted to be, and yet we all create lives for each other. We bring more of our race into the world, raise each other into maturity and by our social systems and hierarchy, we very much influence not only who each individual will be, but what their lives will be like.

Some people don't want anybody. They will pull themselves up by their bootstraps and they do not need anyone. Not true. Not true at all. Yes, you influence your own life. But so do countless other people. It's never just you. For better or for worse, we're all connected. It's like a silly game of chain tag where everyone is running in different directions while being forced to hold hands. Why do we focus on breaking the ties that bind instead of trying to work together? I don't get it. I don't get a lot of things though.

It's enough to make you want to give up on yourself and everybody else. But I can't get everyone to sit down on the ground, holding hands and singing campfire songs. So does that mean I have to keep running?

Ah, but in which direction?

Serenity and Lip Gloss

Shopping can be one of two things for me- intensely stressful or very soothing. There is no rhyme or reason to it, so don't try to hard to figure it out. When I really need to find something or I can't decide if it's worth buying or the price has two or even three big numbers before the decimal points, than it becomes stressful. It's fun when I find things I love, I have money in my wallet and the thrill of the hunt intoxicates my veins. Dramatic? Perhaps. Allow me my drama.

Anyway, today retail therapy was in order, so shopping commenced. I got two of my favorite things- clothes and makeup. Yeah, I'm a vain and petty person. Nobody is perfect. Today shopping was soothing. And thank goodness for that.

So I'm some serenity and lip gloss none the richer. I can deal with that.

Stress

I really hate stress. It turns my normally tolerable self into an unbearable wilderbeast.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Raining, raining, raining. All day long. Yesterday, today and maybe even tomorrow.

I like rain. Really, I do.

 But this is getting to be a little bit much .

Daffodils

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
 
- William Wordsworth
 
Out my window, I can see a charming little group of daffodils, tossing their heads in the breeze as though conversing amongst themselves. It reminded me of this poem, which is actually one of my favorites. Thought I'd share it with you today. After all, whats says June like daffodils?

The Dying Hole

Have you ever seen Madagascar Two?

If so, you probably remember "The Dying Hole." If not, you are totally lost and you think I'm strange. That's okay. I can deal with that.

Anyway, I find the Dying Hole to be an interesting phenomenon. In the astute words of a giraffe "We go over to the Dying Hole, and we die." So simple, eh?

But why do they all go to the Dying Hole any way? Societal standards? Tradition? Sanitation? All very lame reasons unlikely to appeal to a giraffe.

But I've figured it out. I understand the concept, I have discovered the deep psychological reasons behind this. Yeah, I'm a humble soul.

Peer pressure.

That's why the giraffes go to the Dying Hole.

That's actually why Melman goes to the Dying Hole too, further proving my nonexistent point.

So kids, what have we learned?

Don't give in to peer pressure.

Not Very Often

Sometimes I think of you

When old mental maps lead me back down roads paved by your hands

Or a subtle memory makes me think of the person you used to be

Sometimes I think of you

But not very often

Sometimes I dream of you

On long black nights when dreams play tricks on tired hearts

Making them believe that past is present, and that the present is the vision

Sometimes I dream of you

But not very often

Sometimes I miss you

Sometimes I wish you were here because you were the familiar

Back when a time when normal existed in routines that were well known

If not loved

Sometimes I miss you

But not very often

So Close, Yet So Far

Summer is so close.

The end of this school year is so close.

It will be the end of highschool for me.

There are a million things that will change, flex, grow, fade and maybe even shatter.

You know you're getting older when you start 'thinking' about things.

'Thinking' is hard on a lot of things. It tests and challanges what you think you know and believe and what you think you might want to know and believe and what you think you might someday know and believe.

Do forgive me if I fail to make sense, it happens with alarming regularity and I'm over it.

Short Story

So. I kind of sort of wrote a short story. Don't look so suprised, it was a school assignment, I had to. Here is a link for your reading pleasure... or if you need something to put you to sleep, that works too.

http://www.apricotpie.com/paperpoet/through-heart

On the Wind

The wind is blowing firm and warm today. (My hair, however, is not taking this development in stride) Spring is famous for such. In between seasons are like teenagers- not knowing what they're going to be and a little confused about how to go about being whatever it is the decide to be on a given day. Today its not sunny, but its also not cold. The wind gusts indecisively. I cannot help but love, loathe and feel a sympathy for 'in-between-ness.'

Flowers will be blooming soon. I cannot wait. "Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity - John Ruskin" I love this quote. Flowers seem just a cut above the rest of us.  So effortlessly perfect and beautiful. They are like children, shamelessly beautiful and perpetually happy. They just... live.

I'm ever so glad spring is starting to make her appearance. It's one step forward and two steps back here in the Midwest. The calender says April, but there's still a change you might be getting snow. It's May, but that doesn't mean you are supposed to expect anything warmer than thirties with a nice freezing cold wind on the side. Yet in spite of this, spring is coming. Some days the sun is bright and warm, and the wind is tamed to a cool breeze. She's coming shyly, gently and carefully, but definitely coming.

Robins? Check.

Warmer weather? Check(ish). We've discussed the freakishness of the Midwest.

Daffodils? No check, but I'm waiting expectantly.

Spring is definitely in the wind today. I cannot wait.

I Will Never Ever Ever Ever

Peter Pan, come take me away to Neverland, for I never want to grow up!

How dreary it must be to be adult. They sit still, they laugh quietly (if at all), the work all day and and only dream at night. Instead of being children, they have them and raise their own. I find it just ironic that parents scold their children for being children. Working carefully and relentlessly to drain their childish spirit away. With time they will succeed.

But not for me! For I shall never ever grow up.

I shall never be too old to fail to see the appeal of sprinkles or swing at the playground or blow bubbles or write bad poetry or use made up words or wear funny hats or stick out my tongue at people who annoy me!

I refuse to turn 18! (I conveniently canceled my birthday years ago!) I shall never be adult!

I will live at state of in between, of childish maturity. I will never, ever, ever grow up though.

Not all the way, any way.

Because what's the fun in that?

Being constantly responsible is downright reprehensible.

And never making jokes... I fear I'd go into withdrawal.

And never dreaming impossible dreams would shrink hope and make it fit into a box labeled "reality".

And how boring would that be?

How atrociously common, like an ugly little weed!

Youth is fond of dreaming, but age makes dreams so tired and so weak. So realistic.

Youth is ever resiliant, but age makes things more careful and more fragile. So jaded.

Youth. There is no fountain that contains it, not potion that procures it.

And so I will age.

That is the cruelty of time.

But I will not grow up.

You can't make me. =P

Arms

In my humble opinion, this song is worth a listen. I am a minor league Christina Perri fan (I love Jar of Hearts and I think she has a pretty cool voice.)

I don't know what it is about it. I can just relate to it. Maybe you can too.
You put your arms around me and I'm home.

Afraid

I truly am trying
To lift the weight in my chest
Throwing away the shackles.
Be patient,
I may yet decide to be free.
I really do want
To unfurl my fragile, unused wings,
Beat up to the sky
And fly
Away from this frame of mind.
And yet the fear
That I have worn as a blanket
And as a straight jacket,
Still holds me
In a death grip embrace.

Lip Smackers

I love Lip Smackers.

That could be strangly related to the fact that I am a girl and love lip balm/stick/gloss in generally, but really, what's not to love?

Lip Smackers. They're cute, colorful, fit in your pocket, feel fabulous, smell amazing and taste delicous.

What more could a girl (or her lips) ever ask for?

LOTS of lipsmackers, that's what.

Cotton Candy! Watermelon! Mango, Wild Rasberry! Oh the wonderful lips you can smack! (Or would it be smacks you can lip?)

And with a couple hundred flavors... there's quite a few to smack your lips to.

Obsession worthy? Yes.

Gold Stars

Why do I always seek your approval? As if I needed your words to make or break my efforts.

I already doubt myself enough. Do I really need to add your doubts on top of all that? Need... is that what it all comes down to? That needy desire to hear that you think I'm not just a pathetic waste of space, time and energy?

As if I will really believe whatever it is you say.

It's not really your words I want. No. How often are they an accurate representation of what you're really thinking? Not like I want to hear that either... that might be too honest, you know.

I can't stand the lies, but it's the truth I'm really afriad of.

So. That places you in the delicate position of being unable to say anything I want to hear. The lie will frustrate me and the truth I won't believe because I am already convinced it is a lie.

So why do I bother asking? Why do I study your face like a textbook, hunting for clues as to the thoughts that you held back from your words, turning this into some stupid game of Truth or Dare with my self-confidence hanging in the balance?

This isn't kindergarten. There are no more gold star stickers.

Rate the Stranger

There's this game I play, usually from the passenger seat of a parked car. It is a game to assuage boredom, encourage critical thinking skills and celebrate awesomeness in all its many forms.

This game is called Rate the Stranger.

Be forewarned, this game is addicting.

RULES OF PLAY

1. You must rate each stranger on a scale of 1-10, 1 "Decidedly Unawesome" and 10 "Epic Beyond All Reason".

2. Ratings are based on:
            A. A stranger's tasteful, colorful or create fashion choices
            B. A stranger's awesome, amusing or downright strange actions
            C. A stranger's positive attitude, vibe or aura.

3. Personal biases (such as a love of beards, cute boots and random dancing and/or a distaste for people who drop their cigarettes in the grass, scowl at you and yell at their kids) are totally allowed and strongly encouraged.

4. While this game is to celebrate the awesome and random stranger, it is also not intended to be a platform to demean those who may appear unappealing or utterly boring at a first glance. This game cannot judge the inside of a person, only the outside. If there is nothing positive you can find about a stranger, or a good reason to dislike them, it is often best not to rate them at all.

5. The glorious and special time may come when you see a stranger so awesome, the scale simply does not do them justice. In this event, you may declare them an 11.

6. The game may begin at any time and end at any time. Everyone in the vehicle, convoy or space ship is allowed to submit their rating. The group need not agree.

7. The players do not and cannot win the game. Epic strangers win the game.

Ten Strange Things You Probably Didn't Know About Anna

I love lists. Particularly lists of ten. It's a well rounded number.

1. I Name Everything.

Really. Everything. The piano is Betsy, my hair straightener is Sydney, my purse is called "The Cow" and my coat is Bysshe (pronounced BUSH-HEY) Anything even semi-important gets a name.

2. I Have a Thing for Symmetry.

Some would call it an obsession, but they just don't understand how important it is for everything to look uniform and proper.

3. I am a Grammar Nazi.

I'm a bit hypocritical about this, since I know I make plenty of grammar errors also. However, when someone makes a glaring mistake, I feel compelled to correct it out.

4. I Collect Worthless Objects

Glass figurines, rocks, bits of drift wood, sweet looking statues. I like awesome looking stuff. If it tickles my fancy, I want it proudly displayed in my room.

5.  I Have Mouth Full of Sweet Teeth

If I crave something, its sugar. Sometimes I want it in the form of chocolate and sometimes I want it in a peanut butter cookie, but I looove just about anything with enough of the stuff.

6. I Can Sing Like a Chipmunk

A talent which makes you a real hit with kids and chipmunk lovers alike.

7. I Am a Tall Woman

According to the standards of the TCI, (Tall Clubs International) I am a tall woman. 5'10 1/2, Baby.

8. I Am Obsessed With Google

I'm sorry, Yahoo people, Google is just better. I Google everything. How to spell and/or pronounce words, how-to articles, songs, people, places, random words... I love Google.

9. I Had a Cabbage Patch Kid

Nuff said.

10. My Hero and My Crush Aren't Real

Hero: Leigh Anne Tuohy as played by Sandra Bullock in the Blind Side. She's blonde, fabulous, has a major attitude and is who I wanna be when I grow up. The Crush would be Captain Jack Sparrow. Oh so beautiful and unattainable.

There you have it. Ten things you may or may not have known about yours truly.

I Beg of You, Please Follow Me

If you ever have to go away, take me with you.

     So I will never be alone
     So we will never be apart
    To keep us together
    To keep me from falling to pieces
    Because otherwise I will be afraid
    Because otherwise I might forget
    Who I am and
    Who you are and
    Who we are together

If I ever have to go, come with me.
 
    So I won't miss you
    So you won't be without me
    To keep me company
    To keep each other strong
    Because otherwise, I may fail
    Because otherwise, we may fail and
   Who would that leave me?
   Who would that make you?
   Who could we, would we ever be without the other?

I Can Sort Of See Clearly Now

Today I got contacts. Who knew I was supposed to be able to see that trees have individual leaves? They're bald this time of year, anyway.

My Mother laughed at me while I was learning to put them on. Apparently my learning curve is a great deal broader than hers. I did, however, finally get them in my eye and blink about a thousand times before they settled correctly.

Hey! I can see! Sweet.

I then discovered that I am no longer able to see up close. Examining my fingernails was rather blurry business. Darn it, I'm still blind! This is apparently due to the fact that my eyeballs have a learning curve as well. Another rather broad curve. My friend laughed at me while I was trying to read things and had to hold them a ways away from my face.

Don't I have such kind and supportive people in my life? Really.

The If is the Why

If my blog were a garden, it would be over run with weeds.

If life were a sundae, I would ask who ate the cherry.

If I were a hippo, I would float gracefully instead of sink as I thrash wildly.

If a hand were a claw, it would pinch people a great deal more often.

If a book could speak, he would always tell the same story.

If a tree grew down instead of up, digging holes would be even more of a pain.

If holes filled themselves, I'd dig more holes.

If I dug more holes, people would think moles were mutating.

If lawyers were honest, perhaps justice would be done more often.

If you tickle me, I may scream.

Inside and Out

Sometimes pain is inside. Sometimes pain is out.

I watched you walk. Limping. Struggling. One foot at a time, hunched over, stiff all the way up to your hips. I felt guilty for striding so easily and solidly beside you. It looked like it hurt you to walk... a lot.

Sometimes pain is inside. Sometimes pain is out.

You looked at me with suspicious eyes. As if because I was different from you, I hated you. As if I thought I was better than you. You looked like you believed it. I wish I could have somehow convinced you that I didn't.

Sometimes pain is inside. Sometimes pain is out.

I hate to see you crying. I hate to see your frustration. It is hard to bare, watching anyone in pain, much less someone you care about. And yet, what concerns me more are the things that I do not see. The things that you hide. Often times those hurts that you can't see are the deeper ones. The ones that hurt the most.

Sometimes pain is inside. Sometimes pain is out.

A Blank Piece of Paper Is...

Chances.

Choices.

Opportunity.

Possibility.

Freedom.

Pressure.

Hope.

Inspiration.

Potential.

Unwritten.


What is a blank piece of paper to you?

Fake Proverbs

When you have no words, borrow someone elses and hope that he is smarter, kinder and wiser than you.

A Bowlful of Consolation

Is there anything more comforting than a warm bowl of soup to combat the cold inside and out?

Dear Blog,

Dear Blog,

Sorry it's been a while. You know I still love you. It's just that my darn life is interfering again! Inconsiderate, I know. Between school, writers block and work, I confess that I have had little time to invest in you. I've sat here several times before trying to write something for you, but nothing comes. Know that it is not your fault, Blog, and I am sorry you have to suffer. Don't think this strain on our relationship doesn't pain me also.

I love you, Blog; do not doubt this. My love is weak, but true nevertheless. Perhaps we could come up with some tough love or "absence makes the heart grow fonder" analogy to make us both feel better? Then again, I have made enough excuses at this point. I ask not to excused, but forgiven. I admit my fault and abandon myself to your indulgent mercy.

I know this apology may seem rather dramatic. I felt it was the best defense against being unforgivably boring, and when one is trying to obtain forgiveness, it is best to avoid doing that which is unforgivable.

In sincere regret and repentant love,

Anna

The Way I Write Fiction

Also known as Why I Don't/Can't Write Fiction... this was part of the piece I composed for NaNoWriMo. Which, as you may recall, I failed on several counts. But here is a sample to be the object of your disgust and/or amusement.

There are only so many places you can go, until you hit the end. Be it the end of the places or the end of you depends, I suppose on a number of things-the greatest of these things being your personal perspective on it all.

Today I am sitting at a desk in front of a computer, trying to type. Anything will do, I suppose. I just need words to count and rack up my word count so I don’t feel like a total failure. The author is supposed to be writing. Me? I don’t need to write. I am a character and I need to do something exciting that will make you people feel like I’m worth reading about.

Like pressure in a pop can, or a mite under a microscope, you are waiting for me to do something exciting and for a story to emerge.

I’m sorry, we’re experiencing technical difficulty and it might be a long wait.

This also may be difficult on my end, because the author has the attention span of a fly, the plot planning ability of a stick and the endurance of a glass house. Also known as like none at all. Not that I have anything against the author personally. You do realize the author is telling me to say this, right? The views reflected in this work are not necessarily mine, nor are they necessarily her own.


Goodness, that’s confusing.

It might be nice if she could buckle down to business and grant me some sort of personality and get this thing moving. She’s trying now.

My name is Peter.

Good job, author! You decided on something.

What about Peter, eh? I wish I knew. I think the author wishes she knew. I’ll ask. Author? Do you wish you knew?


The author says yes.

What about Peter? What should Peter say and think and feel? What should Peter’s story be about? Where should Peter live and work and play and do the things one might want him to?

The author needs to decide.

Peter (that’s me) should probably wish for a better author.

For Peter, however, the author will try.

I, Peter, shall be placed in England (at least for now-until the author gets bored.)

Just keep typing words, author, that’s all that matters.

What shall Peter do in England?

Maybe I should live there for now.


Which would mean I would have a British accent.

The author is quite partial to British accents.

Oops... she got distracted... that's all I get for know I guess.

She says she's sorry.

Bullied

They stoned her heart a pebble at a time

Every word and every line they ever drew to dare divide

And isolate one soul in an assembly line crime

She drew back when they came near, each eager to toss a stone

And when the tears where pushing hard in the backs of pleading eyes

They’d leave her, sad, ashamed and so painfully alone

Everyone saw it but nobody knew it, not even she would admit

For bloodless battles rage in the freedom of apathy

And minds are quick to organize- what won’t compute, acquit

Right and wrong and respect were all lost because they were never found

And they stripped her personhood away, stone by stone and bit by bit

Another soul died inside, but nobody heard a sound

Three Letters

Today I got three letters in the mail.

One from each of the colleges I applied to.

It was like freaky synchronized mailing.

Three letters... weighted with either choices, chances and opportunity... or crushing defeat and rejection.

Nothing big, eh?

Letter one... here goes nothing...

Accepted! No way!? Seriously!? Yes!!

Letter two... it's smaller... oh no... is that bad?

What's this? Housing contract? Then I must be...

Accepted! Sweet!

Here goes three. By now, I'm feeling lucky.

Accepted! YES!!

All that stress and worrying for naught. Can't say I mind.

It's only the beginning and I have a lot of thinking and comparing to do, but I'm glad the waiting game is over.

Three out of three. Not bad odds, huh?

Circles In The Sun

I love the sun. It is beautiful, bright and it keeps the world I'm living on alive.

I need light. I need warmth.

I love the sun in the Summer and the Spring (I love tans,) but I think I love it most in the Winter. I am allowed the luxury of taking the sunshine for granted during those warmer months, but in the Winter, the sun is not always there.The contrast is sharper. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, presence makes your love stronger.

The presence of the sun today certainly strengthened my already burning love.

I walked a lot during the summer with my dog but since the cold came, the road has been abandoned for the couch.

Today I walked circles in the sun.

Two things I have missed, returned.

It was lovely.

But I concluded that I just want Summer back.

One day, one season at a time.

Thankful for a day of sun.

Waiting for seasons to come.