Tuesday, May 24, 2011

shut the front door

I think I've experienced nearly every emotion I have at some point today.  An adventure.

Jill's going to bed, but we just shared this lovely little conversation:
Me: Is it eighth week?  Is it ninth week?
Jill: It's ninth week.
Me: Shut the front door!
Got my second wind, fueled by laughing at everything and anything.  I've been in this state a lot this quarter.  It's not bad, but it does make people question my sanity.  Le shrug; what else is new?

Tomorrow's going to be good.  We're going to make it good.

Happy ninth week, lovelies.  How's it treating you?

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

good things

1:23 AM.  Sitting on the little couch in my living room, surrounded by textbooks and anthologies and manuscripts and novels and an empty mug.  I've gotten to know the hours past midnight extremely well this quarter.  There's much to be said for familiarity - I'm actually quite fond of these late nights as I sit here, tip-tap-typing away.

This quarter has been new, and fresh, and filled to the brink with so many things.  There are moments when it overflows, when sleep and class and assignments don't happen on time because it turns out that there's not enough of that.  Time, that is.  I've run into quite the kerfuffle when everything I want to do in a day does not fit onto that clock face.

These are my good things: morning pages, drinking tea, walking in the springtime rain, Jill, reading, baking banana bread and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and snicker doodles, dreams, deep breaths, lyrics that say, "you know, you're not the only one who has ever felt this way," uncertainty, honest and open conversation, distractions, eye contact, hugs, still being able to laugh at myself every day, Joel.

What's good in your life right now?

Friday, May 6, 2011


I just burnt my hand, a real burning where you jerk your whole arm back and suck in your breath through your teeth in what’s almost a hiss, on steam from the electric kettle that was boiling in an effort to brew a cup of tea, to have something warm and sweet to hold on to because maybe that will stop my heart from pounding like it’s trying to break its way out of these ragtag bones, hammering like fingers shooting across keys, sharp clicks of words fired across the page like bullets, like heels clack-clicking across the library lobby floor, it’s my heart, it can’t be healthy, won’t it please


My hands have been abused this quarter, this year. I can’t remember how many times I’ve burnt them, patches of skin turning red and shiny and raw, not prepared for movement or usage or touch. Maybe it’s a forgetfulness, a clumsiness, an immaturity. Maybe it’s something I’ll grow out of (yes, please! my fingers beg and plead). Maybe it’s a developing of scars, calluses, skin impervious to burns in the future. But that’s not how skin works. That’s not how life works.

Because, you see, we heal. We have this tendency, after years and journals filled and conversations had and tears and screaming so loudly you’re pretty sure you ripped your vocal chords and anger and revenge-seeking and prayer or deep thoughts or whatever you want to call it, after all of these things, we heal. Not the same person, not back to the way you were before, changed and transformed and wiser and (maybe) a bit more cautious, we are whole. And we reach out again to see if the water is ready.

Be careful? Please.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

summer reading

Yes, I'm planning that far ahead.  Here's my list:
  • White Oleander
  • The Book Thief
  • A Tale of Two Cities
  • To the Lighthouse
  • Everything is Illuminated
  • Harry Potter (because the last movie is coming out and it feels like my childhood is ending)
  • everything by John Green
I will probably actually end up reading eighteen random books and none of these.  I'm also open to any and all suggestions.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Rivers and Roads

Vicarious living is generally underrated.  Let's change this - it's not so bad.

Funny how an event like this will spur immediate reactions, concerns, discussions, and arguments, mainly through the thread of facebook status updates and tumblr quotes.  Funny how we all have an opinion so quickly when we were just huddled around a laptop as though it were a radio fifty years ago, watching the live stream of our president.  I may or may not have my own concerns, but I'm not adding my voice to the mix just yet.  However, this moment of Obama's speech tonight left me infinitely grateful:
As we do, we must also reaffirm that the United States is not – and never will be – at war with Islam.
All our voices, clanging against one another, screaming to be heard.