I understand that the quest for new, original and hip music is an unending one that consumes quite a bit of listening time. But some serious time and merit should be devoted to those delightfully wonderful songs that you found at one time or another. Seriously, why did I stop listening to "You are the blood" by sufjan, or "Two Weeks" by grizzly bear? ForRealz. this shit is good and instead of cherishing it for a little longer I tossed it aside like wilted lettuce!
OHWELL COMEBACKTOMEBEAUTIFULMUSICTHATILOVE!
this weekend is denison's alumni weekend. my emotions are pretty effed up about it. i'm not too sure what to feel. obviously i am excited beyond belief to see my lurvely friends and laugh with them and get sloppy in brews, but i am also pretty nervous about arriving for the first time as an alum and experiencing something that once was my home and no longer is. OR is this the place that will always be my home? no matter how many other homes I grow out of? Is that the point?
OHWELL. that is my new motto. OHWELL. I am going to use it to remind myself that somethings are just completely beyond and out of my control and do not deserve worry, stress or thought beyond an initial recognition. It exists, it will happen and whatever the outcome is, I will attempt to make the best out of it. WHEW. self pep talks are draining sometimes, especially when you post them on the internet and realize that EVERYONE can see how littlebitoffyourrocker you are!
OHWELL!!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Desires
I think my desires are rather simple, or at least they are simply defined, but perhaps among the most difficult to achieve:
Happiness
Someone with whom to share happiness
Maybe I have decided that it means one thing when in reality it means something else.
I just want to satisfy myself and not ever feel like I didn't live up to my own standards and potential. I think that would be happiness. and I want a buddy to cuddle and watch T.V. with, but that's what dogs are for, huh?
Happiness
Someone with whom to share happiness
Maybe I have decided that it means one thing when in reality it means something else.
I just want to satisfy myself and not ever feel like I didn't live up to my own standards and potential. I think that would be happiness. and I want a buddy to cuddle and watch T.V. with, but that's what dogs are for, huh?
Saturday, September 25, 2010
bored to death
I read an article that stated people who have more meaningful deep conversations lead happier lives. I think the inordinate amount of time I have spent conversing the mundane and shallow topics that I have, is directly correlating to my current mood.
I want to read meaningful poetry and I want to wander the enormous library until I find it and then I want to share it with friends.
I want to discuss this whole thing in Iran with the hikers with friends and the politics of their letting the female go but not the other two and the whole deal with the descrepancies between the president's ideals on the situation and the judicial body with which he has to deal and sway.
I want to discuss the potentially philosophical meaning of the song classic cars by bright eyes ... no matter how lame it might feel at the time. I want to sit on a moldy old couch in a windowless room and listen to music and share it with someone and postulate.
I think maybe I will never be satisfied, it is a scary thought.
Also I dislike Wilco. What of it.
I want to read meaningful poetry and I want to wander the enormous library until I find it and then I want to share it with friends.
I want to discuss this whole thing in Iran with the hikers with friends and the politics of their letting the female go but not the other two and the whole deal with the descrepancies between the president's ideals on the situation and the judicial body with which he has to deal and sway.
I want to discuss the potentially philosophical meaning of the song classic cars by bright eyes ... no matter how lame it might feel at the time. I want to sit on a moldy old couch in a windowless room and listen to music and share it with someone and postulate.
I think maybe I will never be satisfied, it is a scary thought.
Also I dislike Wilco. What of it.
Crutches
I am trying to rid myself of my crutches. especially since one has left for good anyway I figure it's a great sign to start in on the others. First step, identify crutches. Second step, ignore them like a boy you're crushing. Third step, forget about them until they beg you to take them back. Fourth step, instead of doing what you normally would ... finally giving in and allowing them back, walk in the other direction, don't look, I said don't look! And finally, feel better about yourself, realize the benefits you are reaping.
UGH I need to start writing some legit fiction, maybe if I let go of my hulu crutch that would happen. Instead I am producing this dribble. I am CRAVING an english paper right now, all I wanna do is hop up on my high horse with my thesis that I invented (probably not, nothing is really original) with my own support from the text (which I might have to manipulate with some elipses) and draw a brilliant conclusion about the moral standing of humanity and what 18th century british literature has to say about it (probably some bullshit that I came up with as I was drifting to sleep in the wee hours of morning).
I so badly want to learn. But what? I think I just want a liberal arts education all over again ... maybe. oh I don't know. Maybe English Lit? Social Work? Writing? I just want to learn. Hm ... maybe from now on, or at least until this craving ends, I'll only read non-fiction books. I've already started "The Whale" but I put it down in favor of a fictional tale, perhaps this is the moment to pick it back up again and learn about flukes and maguerites and how whales were put on display in the circus! (I made the last one up, lists look better in threes, don't they?)
Onward to finish reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen before I can begin my adventure into the sanctum of knowledge that lies between the pages of Phillip Hoare's book!
One last thing - I've been getting these weird almost-fainting spells lately, if you know anything about it, let a girl know! WebMD is SCARY!
UGH I need to start writing some legit fiction, maybe if I let go of my hulu crutch that would happen. Instead I am producing this dribble. I am CRAVING an english paper right now, all I wanna do is hop up on my high horse with my thesis that I invented (probably not, nothing is really original) with my own support from the text (which I might have to manipulate with some elipses) and draw a brilliant conclusion about the moral standing of humanity and what 18th century british literature has to say about it (probably some bullshit that I came up with as I was drifting to sleep in the wee hours of morning).
I so badly want to learn. But what? I think I just want a liberal arts education all over again ... maybe. oh I don't know. Maybe English Lit? Social Work? Writing? I just want to learn. Hm ... maybe from now on, or at least until this craving ends, I'll only read non-fiction books. I've already started "The Whale" but I put it down in favor of a fictional tale, perhaps this is the moment to pick it back up again and learn about flukes and maguerites and how whales were put on display in the circus! (I made the last one up, lists look better in threes, don't they?)
Onward to finish reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen before I can begin my adventure into the sanctum of knowledge that lies between the pages of Phillip Hoare's book!
One last thing - I've been getting these weird almost-fainting spells lately, if you know anything about it, let a girl know! WebMD is SCARY!
places i want to go this year
let's go on an adventure!
I want to go to California and Portland and Seattle, how about a northwest roadtrip!? EH? EH?
Also, I want to go to Vail and Las Vegas.
And Chicago.
Go places with me! Who needs jobs!? Who needs money!? I do! but ... I think I need travel too.
I want to go to California and Portland and Seattle, how about a northwest roadtrip!? EH? EH?
Also, I want to go to Vail and Las Vegas.
And Chicago.
Go places with me! Who needs jobs!? Who needs money!? I do! but ... I think I need travel too.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
BAM!
Please buckle your seatbelts and prepare for a bumpy ride, I am about to spew some deep knowledge on you.
Ready?
Parents are people too.
I know, you're probably sitting there holding your hair in your hands and tugging, your face has melted to the floor and your mouth is wide open "WHAAAAAAAAAA?"
Or maybe not.
But here's the thing, I knew this for a while but I really just realized it, like really realized it. My parents are real life people with just as many flaws, dreams and ambitions as I have! They lie! They get mad about stupid shit because somebody that morning cut them off on their drive to work! They laugh about teenage angst! They think they're funny sometimes! They read books, watch reality TV, grocery shop, attempt crossword puzzles, and sleep at night. It's true, they are people.
It's this really weird feeling realizing that parents don't just automatically become the best they could ever be once they find out they're pregnant. There is no "perfect" switch that gets flicked, making them into some admirable person who is always truthful and loving and happy. That doesn't happen. What does happen though, I think, is that they are set on a path to that person, like hyper drive, because who wants to be the crappy parent - no one I think. So they're climbing up this roller coaster steadily, but slowly, until they find out they are having a child and will soon be the reality of how people are for a little person, so they are sent flying down the coaster up and over and around, leaping through experiences and ideas trying to navigate it the best they can. So now they are fast tracked on their way to becoming this person that they may have only become when they were eighty but it's happening now, that they're forty, because they have a kid who looks at them like they can conquer anything so they feel like they have to make good on that promise and they try.
Before I become a parent I want to make sure I am completely, totally, absolutely honestly ready to become that better person. To give up selfishness, to give up on sleeping in, to give up on eating ice cream for breakfast, to give up on swearing at other drivers who cut me off, to give up laying around in bed all day some saturdays and watching movies, to give up on all the self indulgent things that I allow myself because if little tiny eyes are looking at me and saying "I'm hungry" "I need this" and I am the one who is capable of providing it, I need to be there and be available and be completely theirs. I think that's what it is, it's giving yourself to someone else, that's what parenthood is. Maybe.
Ready?
Parents are people too.
I know, you're probably sitting there holding your hair in your hands and tugging, your face has melted to the floor and your mouth is wide open "WHAAAAAAAAAA?"
Or maybe not.
But here's the thing, I knew this for a while but I really just realized it, like really realized it. My parents are real life people with just as many flaws, dreams and ambitions as I have! They lie! They get mad about stupid shit because somebody that morning cut them off on their drive to work! They laugh about teenage angst! They think they're funny sometimes! They read books, watch reality TV, grocery shop, attempt crossword puzzles, and sleep at night. It's true, they are people.
It's this really weird feeling realizing that parents don't just automatically become the best they could ever be once they find out they're pregnant. There is no "perfect" switch that gets flicked, making them into some admirable person who is always truthful and loving and happy. That doesn't happen. What does happen though, I think, is that they are set on a path to that person, like hyper drive, because who wants to be the crappy parent - no one I think. So they're climbing up this roller coaster steadily, but slowly, until they find out they are having a child and will soon be the reality of how people are for a little person, so they are sent flying down the coaster up and over and around, leaping through experiences and ideas trying to navigate it the best they can. So now they are fast tracked on their way to becoming this person that they may have only become when they were eighty but it's happening now, that they're forty, because they have a kid who looks at them like they can conquer anything so they feel like they have to make good on that promise and they try.
Before I become a parent I want to make sure I am completely, totally, absolutely honestly ready to become that better person. To give up selfishness, to give up on sleeping in, to give up on eating ice cream for breakfast, to give up on swearing at other drivers who cut me off, to give up laying around in bed all day some saturdays and watching movies, to give up on all the self indulgent things that I allow myself because if little tiny eyes are looking at me and saying "I'm hungry" "I need this" and I am the one who is capable of providing it, I need to be there and be available and be completely theirs. I think that's what it is, it's giving yourself to someone else, that's what parenthood is. Maybe.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Awakenings
I feel like I have been living with false assumptions and hopes for who people are. I have been unconscious sleep-walking through what people really are and who they are not, that my hopes and truly my beliefs are completely wrong and based on nothing more than my own assumptions. I can't tell what is wrong in this situation, I think it is me though since I did the assuming. No more.
Finally I am waking up. I am realizing that my hopes for how people are that my beliefs in how they might be are all wrong, untrue, and based in lies. I am hopeful, I see potential, maybe for my own benefit, probably for that, but also for the benefit for those people that I see that I don't think they can. But maybe that's it, maybe they see the potential and they don't want it. Maybe they like how they are. Maybe I am hurting only myself by living with these facades that I have painted across my perceptions because it is not the truth.
It has never been okay for me to not be alright. I was never allowed to hurt, irate, depressed, doing wrong to someone else and I always thought that was a rule imposed on me by other people. Now, I think I am waking up to the fact that I have imposed that rule upon myself. That's fine, but now I also need to wake up and realize that other people have not done that, they are not to resent for it, they are not targets of my anger for it, it is my own moral encoding that is to blame and I somehow created a structure for myself to live in. I feel so foolish for thinking up until this point that others were to blame/resent for my feelings of misunderstanding. I felt like no one heard me ever, but I wasn't even talking.
Now I have to figure out if I have spent too long being silent or if it's okay to start screaming (singing?) now.
This summer has been a very rocky ride for me. I felt like no one noticed. I hid though, hid in my room and hid behind going out, I smiled as I shut the door and cried in the car while I drove. It really is my own fault. Everything just felt like it crumbled down so swiftly. Things with Max were so wonderful with the impending knowledge that it would end. That feeling of complete despair, like nothing good could ever come out of so much hurt and pain especially if it was from letting go of someone who had been so good, taught me so much, smiled so often with me. Then I turned to Jake for solace, he has been my best friend since we were sixteen. It felt natural to turn to the person who knew everything, I didn't have to explain, I could just cry and be hurt and he didn't care why he just held my hand. That was nice. But out of that came so much hurt and confusion and I felt so lost, like I had opened myself up and compacted my own personality, wants and needs down into the depths and closed myself back up with a hardened cover. I didn't feel real anymore. And everything with Tamar all summer. I didn't know her well at all, we had hung out once or twice and I so enjoyed her presence. It was difficult for me when Jake told me she had passed. On top of all that I have the natural stress of where my life is right now, between school and the rest of my life, what do I do now? And the stress of an apartment, moving, jobs, school maybe, traveling. I didn't even have time to give creative thought room in my brain. Writing was my outlet for so long and then I eliminated it completely.
It is nice, really satisfying, to wake up and realize I have been the one inflicting the most pain on myself, because at least I can become cognizant of it and start to do something. I can choose to speak up, choose to not hide, choose to do what I want to do with my life, choose to not allow others opinions sway my decision making. I don't need to move to do that either I can do it right now right now.
It feels good to open my eyes.
Finally I am waking up. I am realizing that my hopes for how people are that my beliefs in how they might be are all wrong, untrue, and based in lies. I am hopeful, I see potential, maybe for my own benefit, probably for that, but also for the benefit for those people that I see that I don't think they can. But maybe that's it, maybe they see the potential and they don't want it. Maybe they like how they are. Maybe I am hurting only myself by living with these facades that I have painted across my perceptions because it is not the truth.
It has never been okay for me to not be alright. I was never allowed to hurt, irate, depressed, doing wrong to someone else and I always thought that was a rule imposed on me by other people. Now, I think I am waking up to the fact that I have imposed that rule upon myself. That's fine, but now I also need to wake up and realize that other people have not done that, they are not to resent for it, they are not targets of my anger for it, it is my own moral encoding that is to blame and I somehow created a structure for myself to live in. I feel so foolish for thinking up until this point that others were to blame/resent for my feelings of misunderstanding. I felt like no one heard me ever, but I wasn't even talking.
Now I have to figure out if I have spent too long being silent or if it's okay to start screaming (singing?) now.
This summer has been a very rocky ride for me. I felt like no one noticed. I hid though, hid in my room and hid behind going out, I smiled as I shut the door and cried in the car while I drove. It really is my own fault. Everything just felt like it crumbled down so swiftly. Things with Max were so wonderful with the impending knowledge that it would end. That feeling of complete despair, like nothing good could ever come out of so much hurt and pain especially if it was from letting go of someone who had been so good, taught me so much, smiled so often with me. Then I turned to Jake for solace, he has been my best friend since we were sixteen. It felt natural to turn to the person who knew everything, I didn't have to explain, I could just cry and be hurt and he didn't care why he just held my hand. That was nice. But out of that came so much hurt and confusion and I felt so lost, like I had opened myself up and compacted my own personality, wants and needs down into the depths and closed myself back up with a hardened cover. I didn't feel real anymore. And everything with Tamar all summer. I didn't know her well at all, we had hung out once or twice and I so enjoyed her presence. It was difficult for me when Jake told me she had passed. On top of all that I have the natural stress of where my life is right now, between school and the rest of my life, what do I do now? And the stress of an apartment, moving, jobs, school maybe, traveling. I didn't even have time to give creative thought room in my brain. Writing was my outlet for so long and then I eliminated it completely.
It is nice, really satisfying, to wake up and realize I have been the one inflicting the most pain on myself, because at least I can become cognizant of it and start to do something. I can choose to speak up, choose to not hide, choose to do what I want to do with my life, choose to not allow others opinions sway my decision making. I don't need to move to do that either I can do it right now right now.
It feels good to open my eyes.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
the mad ones
Fall always seems to be a time of reflection for me. Whether it's the sweaters and cozy spots for curling up and thinking in, or the changing leaves completing their cycle of life, I don't know, but it gets me to thinking about all the stuff and people in my life. It makes me love writing again, maybe that's because of school and I'm used to having a little break over summer because during the year it's so crunched, but this year is different and I will have to crunch time myself like leaves under my feet. I love people who aren't afraid to stand up and say what they are. Who are weird out loud and so unapologetic about it. I so adore honesty about how we actually are. Sometimes I am not honest about who I really am, but sometimes I think what is the point if we are not honest about it!? That seems like some time wasted not finding our best friends and missing out on some really spectacular opportunities for skipping and idea-making together when we realize how wonderfully we both think!
I was thinking about this today because I met my friend Sarah's friends at school and Sarah and I have always had those moments with lightbulbs flashing like the red carpet and our ideas are so weird and great together because fear of being self is just gone. I just love everything about us being together and hanging out sometimes! It's so easy and fun and delightful! And her friends are all the kind of people who are that way too, so unapologetically weird and easy to get along with and it's like we are each our own wonderful beautiful swirling spiral design in our favorite colors and they just happen to compliment each other so well that it's amazing we haven't been friends forever, matching our colors and designs in the strangest most beautiful ways.
Sometimes I don't make sense, but also that is the point. If you get it you are the best.
I was thinking about this today because I met my friend Sarah's friends at school and Sarah and I have always had those moments with lightbulbs flashing like the red carpet and our ideas are so weird and great together because fear of being self is just gone. I just love everything about us being together and hanging out sometimes! It's so easy and fun and delightful! And her friends are all the kind of people who are that way too, so unapologetically weird and easy to get along with and it's like we are each our own wonderful beautiful swirling spiral design in our favorite colors and they just happen to compliment each other so well that it's amazing we haven't been friends forever, matching our colors and designs in the strangest most beautiful ways.
Sometimes I don't make sense, but also that is the point. If you get it you are the best.
Friday, September 17, 2010
People
I feel like I'm living for so many other people and their goals that I don't even have time to think about mine.
I'm doing this Dale Carnegie class because I'm sure it will provide good knowledge and growth, but it's not completely applicable to my life right now and it doesn't entirely just fit in with all the other things I have to think about. But I'm doing it because my Dad wants me to and because it was offered to me.
I'm working because my dad wants me to. I'm not doing anything at work, I'm not crucial to the process of anything I sit, and sit, and answer phones, and make copies, and sit.
I'm making certain choices because of the implications of other peoples' opinions.
I need to just leave, build my life somewhere else away from this stuff because it's starting to give me heartburn again. I'm always on some kind of edge, especially if I choose to care. If I decide to not care then I'm fine but then I don't care and I feel like a zombie!
I'm so frustrated in this little blunder of a place. I need to move, I need to leave and I need to grow on my own away from opinions, in spite of opinions, on my own time, terms and in my own directions.
OOOOOOOOH FRUSTRATION
I'm doing this Dale Carnegie class because I'm sure it will provide good knowledge and growth, but it's not completely applicable to my life right now and it doesn't entirely just fit in with all the other things I have to think about. But I'm doing it because my Dad wants me to and because it was offered to me.
I'm working because my dad wants me to. I'm not doing anything at work, I'm not crucial to the process of anything I sit, and sit, and answer phones, and make copies, and sit.
I'm making certain choices because of the implications of other peoples' opinions.
I need to just leave, build my life somewhere else away from this stuff because it's starting to give me heartburn again. I'm always on some kind of edge, especially if I choose to care. If I decide to not care then I'm fine but then I don't care and I feel like a zombie!
I'm so frustrated in this little blunder of a place. I need to move, I need to leave and I need to grow on my own away from opinions, in spite of opinions, on my own time, terms and in my own directions.
OOOOOOOOH FRUSTRATION
Thursday, September 16, 2010
A new story
The Man with the Snakeskin Boots (tentative title)
Robert worked in a bottle factory. Every day he made sure caps were screwed on each water bottle properly because sometimes the machines went too fast to be accurate. He loathed his job. Well, not entirely. He had Brenda to look forward to at the end of the day and she made the job worthwhile. Without his job he wouldn’t be able to afford Brenda.
“Hey Rob, how’s it going today?”
“Oh, okay, how about you Tim?”
“I’m great, nothing to complain about. The wife’s making my favorite for dinner, pot roast, can’t wait ‘til quittin’ time!”
Damn, pot roast, I wish I had a wife who made dinner for me, Robert thought. He had a T.V. dinner waiting for him in the freezer. He hated how the entire thing went into the microwave at once and the applesauce always got too hot. Robert didn’t even like hot applesauce, it was gross like baby-food or old-people mush.
The bell went off at the end of the day ringing on the hour of “go home.” Robert checked the last of the bottles and made sure their caps were screwed tight and sealed. He slid into his rust-covered Trans Am and let out a sigh as he sank into its worn velveteen seats. With his hand on the cold leather-wheel, he turned the key and anxiously waited the heat to turn on. It was the dead of winter in the rustbelt of Buffalo, NY and all Robert could think about was getting home to his Brenda.
--------------------------copyright Laura Masters (this means if you copy me I will hunt you)
Robert worked in a bottle factory. Every day he made sure caps were screwed on each water bottle properly because sometimes the machines went too fast to be accurate. He loathed his job. Well, not entirely. He had Brenda to look forward to at the end of the day and she made the job worthwhile. Without his job he wouldn’t be able to afford Brenda.
“Hey Rob, how’s it going today?”
“Oh, okay, how about you Tim?”
“I’m great, nothing to complain about. The wife’s making my favorite for dinner, pot roast, can’t wait ‘til quittin’ time!”
Damn, pot roast, I wish I had a wife who made dinner for me, Robert thought. He had a T.V. dinner waiting for him in the freezer. He hated how the entire thing went into the microwave at once and the applesauce always got too hot. Robert didn’t even like hot applesauce, it was gross like baby-food or old-people mush.
The bell went off at the end of the day ringing on the hour of “go home.” Robert checked the last of the bottles and made sure their caps were screwed tight and sealed. He slid into his rust-covered Trans Am and let out a sigh as he sank into its worn velveteen seats. With his hand on the cold leather-wheel, he turned the key and anxiously waited the heat to turn on. It was the dead of winter in the rustbelt of Buffalo, NY and all Robert could think about was getting home to his Brenda.
--------------------------copyright Laura Masters (this means if you copy me I will hunt you)
Can we just talk about the problem with spelling and grammar people have on facebook? I know your hands move faster than your brains, but come on, did you really just leave out a vital word in that sentence?
The great (or not so great) thing is that we all know what the intended message was anyway. But is that just an excuse for laziness, for a lack of thoughtfulness, an excuse for people to stop paying attention and being mindful?
I hate facebook because we just go through these motions and it's not us. it's not the reality and even if it is we just don't care enough to have a legitimate interaction.
I miss humans. Straight-talking real life, let's go to the museum and pretend to be smart humans. Whatever happened to dates!? Let's talk about that.
The great (or not so great) thing is that we all know what the intended message was anyway. But is that just an excuse for laziness, for a lack of thoughtfulness, an excuse for people to stop paying attention and being mindful?
I hate facebook because we just go through these motions and it's not us. it's not the reality and even if it is we just don't care enough to have a legitimate interaction.
I miss humans. Straight-talking real life, let's go to the museum and pretend to be smart humans. Whatever happened to dates!? Let's talk about that.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
things i miss
it's sad to say, but it's so so true. i miss the library. i miss the way it smells and the cozy lighting and the bright lights in the stacks, i miss it all. the library was reason numero uno why i chose denison. i miss it. i miss the people and the laughs and the silly faces as morning came closer. i miss all nighters and the stinky couch in the bullsheet office. i miss running into everyone i loved in one day. i miss that the most. i miss feeling so important even though i wasn't. i miss feeling like i had direction, like i was going somewhere. it's like someone just uprooted the rest of my tracks and i'm here at a stand-still. i need to write. i need to send my writing to be published. i need to sing in public. i'm going to find a band when i get to columbus. i need to do things that make me feel productive and as much as it may not follow other peoples' goals for me, productivity does not exist behind a desk in a flourescent-lit office for me. productivity may not be in helping others realize their goals right now for me, it may not be writing for a magazine or publishing, it may not be graphic design.
yesterday as i complained about how boring work was to my dad and how today i would have a twelve hour day because of this class i'm taking tonight he said "welcome to the working world". i cried. i know i'm lame, but i did because i refuse to believe that this is reality for me for the rest of my life. i absolutely refuse it. i am going to love what i do. i will. i am going to travel and not be locked into a 50- hour work week for the rest of my life in the same damn place and then settle down and pop out babies. that is not my life. and for someone who sees such wonderful things for my life to welcome me to 12 hour days doing shit work that i loathe ... i know he didn't mean it that way but i saw it as a way to wake myself up.
i'm going to be poor. i'm going to not be able to have the things i'm used to. i'm going to be hungry and i'm going to be cold and out of those places, the lowest deep down depths, there i will find myself. there i will strip away all the fluff that is masquerading as me right now and i will get to the core of myself and begin to write again and it will be brilliant and i will publish it. and i cannot do that if i am working a comfortable office job doing menial work that i do not care about. i do not want to live one day of my life doing something that i do not care about. passion is so vital to who i am.
there are a lot of things i miss. a lot of people i miss. if i could just get one day back to relive, just one winter day at denison, when it's snowing outside of the library, with hot coffee in my hand and a red hat on my head and smiles everywhere. contentment. that's what i miss, utter contentment. nothing was so hard i couldn't do it, nothing was so easy i was bored. everything was just right. and right now i feel simultaneously bored out of my mind and in a paralytic state because life is so looming and hard. all i want to do is play. and write. and hold hands. i just need to realize that i can do those things anywhere, not just at denison, i guess i'm mourning the loss of four years in one place that i grew to love deeply. even though we're supposed to move on to bigger better things, a period of grief is important.
the horizon is not too far.
yesterday as i complained about how boring work was to my dad and how today i would have a twelve hour day because of this class i'm taking tonight he said "welcome to the working world". i cried. i know i'm lame, but i did because i refuse to believe that this is reality for me for the rest of my life. i absolutely refuse it. i am going to love what i do. i will. i am going to travel and not be locked into a 50- hour work week for the rest of my life in the same damn place and then settle down and pop out babies. that is not my life. and for someone who sees such wonderful things for my life to welcome me to 12 hour days doing shit work that i loathe ... i know he didn't mean it that way but i saw it as a way to wake myself up.
i'm going to be poor. i'm going to not be able to have the things i'm used to. i'm going to be hungry and i'm going to be cold and out of those places, the lowest deep down depths, there i will find myself. there i will strip away all the fluff that is masquerading as me right now and i will get to the core of myself and begin to write again and it will be brilliant and i will publish it. and i cannot do that if i am working a comfortable office job doing menial work that i do not care about. i do not want to live one day of my life doing something that i do not care about. passion is so vital to who i am.
there are a lot of things i miss. a lot of people i miss. if i could just get one day back to relive, just one winter day at denison, when it's snowing outside of the library, with hot coffee in my hand and a red hat on my head and smiles everywhere. contentment. that's what i miss, utter contentment. nothing was so hard i couldn't do it, nothing was so easy i was bored. everything was just right. and right now i feel simultaneously bored out of my mind and in a paralytic state because life is so looming and hard. all i want to do is play. and write. and hold hands. i just need to realize that i can do those things anywhere, not just at denison, i guess i'm mourning the loss of four years in one place that i grew to love deeply. even though we're supposed to move on to bigger better things, a period of grief is important.
the horizon is not too far.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Gentiles
Let's reflect for a moment on my life thus far - first boyfriend, gentile. second serious boyfriend, jewish. third - gentile. and from there the rest are jewish with a gentile thrown in here or there but the majority of my dating life has been laden with bagels and yom tov's.
I've dated jewish so many times that I even know some hebrew, what is kosher for passover and when the major holidays are. Probably more than those boys can say about their minimal knowledge of my santa-loving, jesus-believing religion. Dating across the religious spectrum though has allowed me to realize and confirm my own beliefs and create my own spiritualism.
Regardless, I never fail to be the shiksa-wannabe in the crowd without even trying. I swear, it's not like I'm seeking these situations out and sometimes (okay most of the time) I feel really isolated because of the closeness of Jewish people, especially Buffalo Jews (ie. my friends). they all know each other! they all went to camp together! their brothers and sisters know each other! I can say for absolute certainty that that is not how it was for me and my Christian brethren. we did the whole sunday school thing but I was not nearly as invested in forming life-long family-linked friendships with these people simply because we both believe in Jesus, Santa and Mary. It becomes awkward sometimes and I feel like an impostor because who would assume the girl who hangs out with all Jewish people who knew each other at birth and appears to be Jewish on the outside really is the odd-man out? And let's be real, I can put on a good show, not purposefully, just based on the knowledge I have accrued thanks to my relationships.
Can't wait to return to Denidoo's New England-style white Euro-gentile laden land. Hello Big Red Weekend, thanks for opening your arms to me. Seriously, college was the one time when I wasn't constantly surrounded by a group of jewish friends who had known each other forever and I still dated and befriended those of the Moses persuasion.
**Disclaimer: none of this post is meant to insult, degrade or emotionally harm anyone person or peoples. I love all people, but you have to admit the uncanniness of my life-long jewdar.
I've dated jewish so many times that I even know some hebrew, what is kosher for passover and when the major holidays are. Probably more than those boys can say about their minimal knowledge of my santa-loving, jesus-believing religion. Dating across the religious spectrum though has allowed me to realize and confirm my own beliefs and create my own spiritualism.
Regardless, I never fail to be the shiksa-wannabe in the crowd without even trying. I swear, it's not like I'm seeking these situations out and sometimes (okay most of the time) I feel really isolated because of the closeness of Jewish people, especially Buffalo Jews (ie. my friends). they all know each other! they all went to camp together! their brothers and sisters know each other! I can say for absolute certainty that that is not how it was for me and my Christian brethren. we did the whole sunday school thing but I was not nearly as invested in forming life-long family-linked friendships with these people simply because we both believe in Jesus, Santa and Mary. It becomes awkward sometimes and I feel like an impostor because who would assume the girl who hangs out with all Jewish people who knew each other at birth and appears to be Jewish on the outside really is the odd-man out? And let's be real, I can put on a good show, not purposefully, just based on the knowledge I have accrued thanks to my relationships.
Can't wait to return to Denidoo's New England-style white Euro-gentile laden land. Hello Big Red Weekend, thanks for opening your arms to me. Seriously, college was the one time when I wasn't constantly surrounded by a group of jewish friends who had known each other forever and I still dated and befriended those of the Moses persuasion.
**Disclaimer: none of this post is meant to insult, degrade or emotionally harm anyone person or peoples. I love all people, but you have to admit the uncanniness of my life-long jewdar.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Fonts
Do you think the creators of Google ever regret using that font? They're stuck with it forever now ... what is it, a Helvetica, it's not Times ... regardless they are trapped in that font choice until Yahoo or Bing surpass them - which, let's be real, will never happen.
I wonder what happens when you choose a font for your brand and then you decide five years later once you're a big corporation that you despise that font and that it doesn't really represent the values you once held.
I spend a lot of time thinking.
I have finally gotten to a place where I feel exactly like myself. I'm ready to go out and be outgoing and independent and introduce myself to people on the street that I don't know it's like that story SJ wrote about me, I feel like that person again. Let's buy some flowers and give them to strangers! Let's go to parties where we don't know a soul! Let's make new friends! Let's climb the waterfront tower and sing songs together! Let's run around the city and take pictures!
I want an adventure and I want it now.
In other news: Who will go with me to Wordstock in Portland? I'm considering driving, but I also have this Delta ticket to use so if you want to go with me, I'll split your plane ticket with you cause I don't have to pay for mine! And we can camp!
Wonderful things lie ahead waiting for me
I wonder what happens when you choose a font for your brand and then you decide five years later once you're a big corporation that you despise that font and that it doesn't really represent the values you once held.
I spend a lot of time thinking.
I have finally gotten to a place where I feel exactly like myself. I'm ready to go out and be outgoing and independent and introduce myself to people on the street that I don't know it's like that story SJ wrote about me, I feel like that person again. Let's buy some flowers and give them to strangers! Let's go to parties where we don't know a soul! Let's make new friends! Let's climb the waterfront tower and sing songs together! Let's run around the city and take pictures!
I want an adventure and I want it now.
In other news: Who will go with me to Wordstock in Portland? I'm considering driving, but I also have this Delta ticket to use so if you want to go with me, I'll split your plane ticket with you cause I don't have to pay for mine! And we can camp!
Wonderful things lie ahead waiting for me
Thursday, September 2, 2010
little things
As I plugged my phone into the charger tonight I leaned a little farther than I usually do and there was the gold band bracelet I had lost for about a month now. At first I was extremely upset about losing this bracelet, it's awesome and I love it and it was a constant reminder my graduation since it is probably the last thing I will have ever purchased from the gypsies.
Sad, morbid. True.
Alas, after a couple days of moping, or rather blaming my moping on the bracelet, I decided there were bigger fish to fry, er, cry over, er, spilled milk? Meh. You know.
SO I returned to my adolescent adage of, set it free and forget it, if you're supposed to have it, it will come back to you somehow if not, forget about it. This is a motto that got me through some pretty big losses. That rubberband I lost to a rainstorm, I had written the last stanza to Anne Sexton's "Wanting to Die" on it ... sad, morbid, true. It had also gotten me through to loss of a really awesome grey beanie with a pink zipper flower on it that I never did find ... maybe a sign. And it got me through countless moments of heartache. At a very crucial point in my life when I had chosen that I was too old for this motto, that it was whimsical and nonsensical and unrealistic (redundant? perhaps.) Here it is, proving me wrong and my motto right (really a win-win situation for me since I'm wrong and right either way). But I found it! And perhaps it's a sign that I need to return to my roots a little bit, embrace the good parts of my adolescent self and hold on to the sparkle magic rationale that got me through so many other hard times, why wouldn't it work now? Because I'm no longer sixteen!? Bullshit. Sparkle magic always works and I have my gold bracelet to attest to that simple truth.
Sad, morbid. True.
Alas, after a couple days of moping, or rather blaming my moping on the bracelet, I decided there were bigger fish to fry, er, cry over, er, spilled milk? Meh. You know.
SO I returned to my adolescent adage of, set it free and forget it, if you're supposed to have it, it will come back to you somehow if not, forget about it. This is a motto that got me through some pretty big losses. That rubberband I lost to a rainstorm, I had written the last stanza to Anne Sexton's "Wanting to Die" on it ... sad, morbid, true. It had also gotten me through to loss of a really awesome grey beanie with a pink zipper flower on it that I never did find ... maybe a sign. And it got me through countless moments of heartache. At a very crucial point in my life when I had chosen that I was too old for this motto, that it was whimsical and nonsensical and unrealistic (redundant? perhaps.) Here it is, proving me wrong and my motto right (really a win-win situation for me since I'm wrong and right either way). But I found it! And perhaps it's a sign that I need to return to my roots a little bit, embrace the good parts of my adolescent self and hold on to the sparkle magic rationale that got me through so many other hard times, why wouldn't it work now? Because I'm no longer sixteen!? Bullshit. Sparkle magic always works and I have my gold bracelet to attest to that simple truth.
Here's the thing
This is how it works. Find a way to be happy, hold onto it until it no longer makes you happy.
Does it really make sense to turn your back on something that makes you happy if it's not harming you?
Here's the thing, I don't want to care but I can't help it. It was always something I just couldn't help, something that was inevitable and beyond my control.
Just tell me why it makes sense to not be happy when the solution is staring you in the eyeball while you sleep at night ... hmmmmmm?
Does it really make sense to turn your back on something that makes you happy if it's not harming you?
Here's the thing, I don't want to care but I can't help it. It was always something I just couldn't help, something that was inevitable and beyond my control.
Just tell me why it makes sense to not be happy when the solution is staring you in the eyeball while you sleep at night ... hmmmmmm?
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