Honesty means everything to me. While growing up, my parents spoke very blatantly and honestly with me. I have come to expect the same level of openness from friends and peers. I always want to know what a person is thinking and their opinions of me and anything else. Honesty is a way to show your trust in another person and to open yourself up to all another has to offer. A sincere and well-rooted connection flourishes when both parties are being thoroughly honest with each other.
In To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus Finch leads a very honest lifestyle. This way of revealing himself helps his children to better understand life. In many aspects of the novel the conflict hinges upon a character's willingness to be honest. When Tom is falsely accused of rape, Mayella, his accuser, faces the dilemma of her own dishonesty.
Communication stands as the human race's most important and best skill. When that medium is bogged down by a lack of honesty we lose the connection and understanding it once offered.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
There is anarchy rising up in me
From in my soul
The anarchy of not being what you want
Or where you want to be.
The anarchy inside.
ANARCHY.
number 4
From in my soul
The anarchy of not being what you want
Or where you want to be.
The anarchy inside.
ANARCHY.
number 4
Friday, August 27, 2010
Balance Beam of Crazy
Am I going crazy already? How sad would that be? Already my desk is a mess and I feel stressed out. Does that say poorly of me or of my teachers and school experience? I estimated and if I do everything I should I have about 6 hours of homework that was assigned this weekend. (Also, what am I doing right now? Blogging about it.) Deep breath. Do well. Don't worry,though. "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Mat. 6:24 The Bible says to take each day one at a time. Who knew chilling out could be difficult? I never want to be lazy or apathetic but finding a good balance is a true skill.
If I could be a balancer
On the high rope of life
And never once misstep,
I would always be safe.
But I'd never learn
The freedom of the fall.
So the song on my mind is kinda creepy. But the non-creepy parts make me so happy/sad I could be sick. I love Imogen Heap, though.
Song on My Mind-Goodnight and Go-Imogen Heap:
If I could be a balancer
On the high rope of life
And never once misstep,
I would always be safe.
But I'd never learn
The freedom of the fall.
So the song on my mind is kinda creepy. But the non-creepy parts make me so happy/sad I could be sick. I love Imogen Heap, though.
Song on My Mind-Goodnight and Go-Imogen Heap:
Say goodnight and go.
Skipping beats,
Blushing cheeks.
I am... struggling..
Daydreaming,
Bed scenes in... the corner cafe
And then I'm left in bits recovering tectonic... tremblings
You get me every time.
Why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you..
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.
Follow you home,
You've got your headphones on
And you're dancing
Got lucky;
Beautiful shot:
You're taking everything off
Watch the curtains wide open
And you're following the same routine;
Flicking through the TV, relaxed and reclining
And you think you're alone..
Oh, why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you,
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.
One of these days,
You'll miss your train,
And come stay with me...
{It's always say goodnight and go}
We'll have drinks,
And talk about things and,
Any excuse to stay awake with you...
You'll sleep here,
I'll sleep there,
But then the heating may be down again,
At my convenience...
We'd be good,
We'd be great together...
Go (sigh)
{Instrumental pause}
Why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you,
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.
Why's it always always:
goodnight and go?
Oh, Darling not again,
Goodnight and... go...
Blushing cheeks.
I am... struggling..
Daydreaming,
Bed scenes in... the corner cafe
And then I'm left in bits recovering tectonic... tremblings
You get me every time.
Why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you..
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.
Follow you home,
You've got your headphones on
And you're dancing
Got lucky;
Beautiful shot:
You're taking everything off
Watch the curtains wide open
And you're following the same routine;
Flicking through the TV, relaxed and reclining
And you think you're alone..
Oh, why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you,
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.
One of these days,
You'll miss your train,
And come stay with me...
{It's always say goodnight and go}
We'll have drinks,
And talk about things and,
Any excuse to stay awake with you...
You'll sleep here,
I'll sleep there,
But then the heating may be down again,
At my convenience...
We'd be good,
We'd be great together...
Go (sigh)
{Instrumental pause}
Why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you,
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.
Why's it always always:
goodnight and go?
Oh, Darling not again,
Goodnight and... go...
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
This Summer
Musical mood for this post: Shiny Toy Guns
There were a lot of things I wanted to do this summer. There was a list of things I wanted to accomplish and, not surprisingly, none of them got done. But, in a way, some of them did.
- Fix iTunes
- guitar picking
- art masterpiece
- ukulele
- music video
Dear God, guide my way as I enter into this year. Only You know the plans You have for me.
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11
Monday, August 23, 2010
Things I Would Like for You to Do
- Grow up.
- Become more beautiful than anyone ever imagined.
- Leave me in the dust.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Be the Solution
The reason I wasn't happy with myself last night, is truly simple: FAKE.
I don't think of myself as a fake person, but if I try to be anything I'm not then I am and then I don't like myself. If I try to be funny or charming or mean or anything just for a laugh or so people see me one way or another then that is being fake.
In the body we have parts of us that attack germs and outside forces that threaten to make us sick. Our bodies know what doesn't belong and what is unnatural. In the same way, I don't ever like myself when I'm being someone I deep down know I am not. It could be a small things-just a thing I say or a joke I tell or something I wear-but if it isn't really something I would do (or something I wouldn't even approve of), then it isn't honest.
Sometimes we change around people, whether we mean to or not, and for whatever reason, but I don't want to. People should be themselves, no matter the situation. If we live for how others see us we are not truly living.
Related things: This post and this poem.
I don't think of myself as a fake person, but if I try to be anything I'm not then I am and then I don't like myself. If I try to be funny or charming or mean or anything just for a laugh or so people see me one way or another then that is being fake.
In the body we have parts of us that attack germs and outside forces that threaten to make us sick. Our bodies know what doesn't belong and what is unnatural. In the same way, I don't ever like myself when I'm being someone I deep down know I am not. It could be a small things-just a thing I say or a joke I tell or something I wear-but if it isn't really something I would do (or something I wouldn't even approve of), then it isn't honest.
Sometimes we change around people, whether we mean to or not, and for whatever reason, but I don't want to. People should be themselves, no matter the situation. If we live for how others see us we are not truly living.
Related things: This post and this poem.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Working for the Man Every Night and Day
I can already feel this blog post sounding stupid and I haven't barely even started. But, still, I'm in my bed with my dad's laptop on a Wednesday night and listening to The Smiths on my Pandora account. How could I not blog?
I don't know how it keeps coming up but it does, in conversation, about having or not having a job. I hadn't even really seriously thought about it until, actually, this week. I guess when something is on your mind you notice when it comes up. And, surprisingly enough, I really want a job. ) I mean, being under 16 a job seemed far away and, what did I need one for? I'm young and I can't drive. But now, I'm starting to visualize it. I'll be 16 this coming semester. I am eligible for a license in April. Also, I want a lot of things. Oh, that sounds awful. But, I'd like to earn things and not rely so much on others.I hate asking for things in general. It makes me feel awful. People joke with me, "Get a job!" Sounds like a good idea to me, honestly. I could see me working and enjoying it. I'd like to have a bank account and a pay check and another place to be. I feel stupid. I have a good idea about how it would go if tried. I wouldn't be experienced enough to actually get a job. I'd crack a bad joke at an interview.. And when would I work? After school? Not if I wanted to do shows. And how would I get there? Mariah sure as heck wouldn't be driving me to work after school. She has a job of her own to go to. And my beautiful madre said I wouldn't be getting a car or my license until I had a job to pay for gas. If you don't see the vicious cycle then you haven't been paying very good attention.
Places I'd Like to Work:
Library
Book Store
Teen Clothing Store
Music Store
Card Store
Flower Shop
Places I Wouldn't Like to Work:
Fast Food/Restaurant
Department Store
Place with children
Things I Want to Get:
Fancy Camera
Laptop
Good birthday/Christmas presents
Speaking of schedules and school..I went through my school supplies tonight, and let me tell you, I have a bunch. Which is good. I still don't want to go..but, I can't stay here on my bed writing blogs all year. Que sera sera.
PS. Songs I liked while writing:
We Will Become Sillhouettes covered by The Shins. <3 I can spell silhouettes. Awesome.
Jumper-Third Eye Blind
P.P.S My head hurts on one side because I hit it really hard on a door frame the other day. I'm smart and have really awesome spatial awareness.
P.P.P.S It's taken me a long while to write this blog because in my school-supply searching I found an old journal and had to read it. I am so different and so the same. My writing style hasn't changed, my handwriting has. I love to look back because knowing where you've been is a great way to enjoy the path ahead. I feel like doing a lot of stuff tonight like writing and cleaning and clearing my mind. It's a nice mood. I'll embrace it.
I don't know how it keeps coming up but it does, in conversation, about having or not having a job. I hadn't even really seriously thought about it until, actually, this week. I guess when something is on your mind you notice when it comes up. And, surprisingly enough, I really want a job. ) I mean, being under 16 a job seemed far away and, what did I need one for? I'm young and I can't drive. But now, I'm starting to visualize it. I'll be 16 this coming semester. I am eligible for a license in April. Also, I want a lot of things. Oh, that sounds awful. But, I'd like to earn things and not rely so much on others.I hate asking for things in general. It makes me feel awful. People joke with me, "Get a job!" Sounds like a good idea to me, honestly. I could see me working and enjoying it. I'd like to have a bank account and a pay check and another place to be. I feel stupid. I have a good idea about how it would go if tried. I wouldn't be experienced enough to actually get a job. I'd crack a bad joke at an interview.. And when would I work? After school? Not if I wanted to do shows. And how would I get there? Mariah sure as heck wouldn't be driving me to work after school. She has a job of her own to go to. And my beautiful madre said I wouldn't be getting a car or my license until I had a job to pay for gas. If you don't see the vicious cycle then you haven't been paying very good attention.
Places I'd Like to Work:
Library
Book Store
Teen Clothing Store
Music Store
Card Store
Flower Shop
Places I Wouldn't Like to Work:
Fast Food/Restaurant
Department Store
Place with children
Things I Want to Get:
Fancy Camera
Laptop
Good birthday/Christmas presents
Speaking of schedules and school..I went through my school supplies tonight, and let me tell you, I have a bunch. Which is good. I still don't want to go..but, I can't stay here on my bed writing blogs all year. Que sera sera.
PS. Songs I liked while writing:
We Will Become Sillhouettes covered by The Shins. <3 I can spell silhouettes. Awesome.
Jumper-Third Eye Blind
P.P.S My head hurts on one side because I hit it really hard on a door frame the other day. I'm smart and have really awesome spatial awareness.
P.P.P.S It's taken me a long while to write this blog because in my school-supply searching I found an old journal and had to read it. I am so different and so the same. My writing style hasn't changed, my handwriting has. I love to look back because knowing where you've been is a great way to enjoy the path ahead. I feel like doing a lot of stuff tonight like writing and cleaning and clearing my mind. It's a nice mood. I'll embrace it.
Inception.. dun dun dun!
So, this morning I awoke from a very long dream at like 10:40 am. The dream, sadly enough, was almost a nightmare, and it was about the first day of school. But, despite the dread and sadness of it all, there was some awesome. Just wait for it.
Like the first day of school often can make a person, I was extremely disoriented. The fact that the setting kept changing was no help either. This school was a mix of my charter school, my old church, and my current school. I left my homeroom and immediately rushed to the office because I didn't have a schedule. Of course there was a huge line at both entrances and it seemed the people inside were quite scrambled. But one lady, seeing my obvious about-to-crap-my-pants-fright, called me over and printed out my schedule for me. So then, I dashed up a flight of stairs and happened to bump into Mariah. I was harried so I quickly picked up my stuff, yelled for her to have a nice day, and ran off again. But, then, when I went to re-check my schedule, I had hers, not mine. "Crap. I do not have Advanced Writing Strategies. I'm taking, like, a poetry class." I scrambled through my things and managed to find my schedule too, but before I had a real chance to look at it, a teacher whisked me off to a huge auditorium. Somehow this made more sense to me than finding my classes and I got up on this huge stage. There were a couple other people up there in odd costumes and I just helped them out and talked and stuff. I'm still not sure what I was doing. People took pictures of us and I put on some ridiculous boots. There were cardboard cut outs. After we finished whatever we were doing up there, people clapped and I hopped off stage. In the front row, all classy looking, were people I used to go to school with. "Hey, Madison! Remember me? Oh, Thomas, hey." It was weird. Then, from there I was in a gym. But, I still didn't know where I was supposed to be. I walked up to one of the coaches, "Where is room 13a?" He looked at me, for a second or two before he informed me, "I'm a coach. I don't know. I play sports.**" Then, across the gym I spotted my last year's history teacher, Mrs.Andersen. So, I was like, "Awesome, she'll help me." I went up and asked her where 13a and she said, "I don't work here. I'm no longer a history teacher and I'm above giving directions to students. But, if I wasn't....I'd tell you to go that way." She sorta pointed over her shoulder. I gave her a confused thanks and sprinted off towards another buildings. I busted my way through a door, and there I saw it, between 13b and 13.456, 13a! I knocked anxiously. A little mail-flap clicked open and eyes peered at me. "You here for Poetry?" I nodded then walked in. The room was cramped and there were a couple people I knew. I never actually figured out if the teacher of poetry was a man or a woman. I think it was a man with an effeminate face. He walked to the back of the class and said, "I'd like for you all to write a poem about what horrid children you are for being all so noisy and late." Then he stepped out of the class. I started coming up with lines in my head before I stopped short and raced out of the classroom. "Mr.Henderson!" I guess that's what his name was. "Mr. Henderson, I'm not gonna write that poem." He gave me a dark look, "And why not?" I stared him down with a crazed look in my eyes, and I SAID, "Because this is a dream. I haven't even been to open house yet! And if I HAD, I would have had my schedule and known where my classes were. This isn't even real." Mr. Henderson looked at me, and then I woke up.
IT WAS SO INTENSE! I don't think I've ever so clearly defied a dream. I'm surprised I remembered it. It was excellent and awesome and I felt like such a winner, no, a champion. I dominated that dream. So, I'll interpret it later but right now I'm just feeling awesome.
**My subconscious is prejudiced against people involved in sports.
Like the first day of school often can make a person, I was extremely disoriented. The fact that the setting kept changing was no help either. This school was a mix of my charter school, my old church, and my current school. I left my homeroom and immediately rushed to the office because I didn't have a schedule. Of course there was a huge line at both entrances and it seemed the people inside were quite scrambled. But one lady, seeing my obvious about-to-crap-my-pants-fright, called me over and printed out my schedule for me. So then, I dashed up a flight of stairs and happened to bump into Mariah. I was harried so I quickly picked up my stuff, yelled for her to have a nice day, and ran off again. But, then, when I went to re-check my schedule, I had hers, not mine. "Crap. I do not have Advanced Writing Strategies. I'm taking, like, a poetry class." I scrambled through my things and managed to find my schedule too, but before I had a real chance to look at it, a teacher whisked me off to a huge auditorium. Somehow this made more sense to me than finding my classes and I got up on this huge stage. There were a couple other people up there in odd costumes and I just helped them out and talked and stuff. I'm still not sure what I was doing. People took pictures of us and I put on some ridiculous boots. There were cardboard cut outs. After we finished whatever we were doing up there, people clapped and I hopped off stage. In the front row, all classy looking, were people I used to go to school with. "Hey, Madison! Remember me? Oh, Thomas, hey." It was weird. Then, from there I was in a gym. But, I still didn't know where I was supposed to be. I walked up to one of the coaches, "Where is room 13a?" He looked at me, for a second or two before he informed me, "I'm a coach. I don't know. I play sports.**" Then, across the gym I spotted my last year's history teacher, Mrs.Andersen. So, I was like, "Awesome, she'll help me." I went up and asked her where 13a and she said, "I don't work here. I'm no longer a history teacher and I'm above giving directions to students. But, if I wasn't....I'd tell you to go that way." She sorta pointed over her shoulder. I gave her a confused thanks and sprinted off towards another buildings. I busted my way through a door, and there I saw it, between 13b and 13.456, 13a! I knocked anxiously. A little mail-flap clicked open and eyes peered at me. "You here for Poetry?" I nodded then walked in. The room was cramped and there were a couple people I knew. I never actually figured out if the teacher of poetry was a man or a woman. I think it was a man with an effeminate face. He walked to the back of the class and said, "I'd like for you all to write a poem about what horrid children you are for being all so noisy and late." Then he stepped out of the class. I started coming up with lines in my head before I stopped short and raced out of the classroom. "Mr.Henderson!" I guess that's what his name was. "Mr. Henderson, I'm not gonna write that poem." He gave me a dark look, "And why not?" I stared him down with a crazed look in my eyes, and I SAID, "Because this is a dream. I haven't even been to open house yet! And if I HAD, I would have had my schedule and known where my classes were. This isn't even real." Mr. Henderson looked at me, and then I woke up.
IT WAS SO INTENSE! I don't think I've ever so clearly defied a dream. I'm surprised I remembered it. It was excellent and awesome and I felt like such a winner, no, a champion. I dominated that dream. So, I'll interpret it later but right now I'm just feeling awesome.
**My subconscious is prejudiced against people involved in sports.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
New Year, Same Mikaella
Here are some excerpts from blogs I wrote about a year ago when I was just starting high school:
"I have a basic idea of where I'm supposed to go but I still have anxiety about it. It all seems super big and serious and crap." Well, that's still sort of true, the first part at least. High school doesn't seem so big or serious anymore though. It feels like a chore.
"I don't feel like a freshman. I don't feel like anything really." And now, I don't feel like a sophomore. I feel like a whiny kid who would rather stay at home reading Harry Potter with a snuggie and her cat.
I'm the same.
"I don't want school to come. Leave me alone!" I rest my case.
"I have a basic idea of where I'm supposed to go but I still have anxiety about it. It all seems super big and serious and crap." Well, that's still sort of true, the first part at least. High school doesn't seem so big or serious anymore though. It feels like a chore.
"I don't feel like a freshman. I don't feel like anything really." And now, I don't feel like a sophomore. I feel like a whiny kid who would rather stay at home reading Harry Potter with a snuggie and her cat.
I'm the same.
"I don't want school to come. Leave me alone!" I rest my case.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
August 13th
1. My Flamin' Hot Cheetos have to be slightly stale for me to fully enjoy them.
2. I feel quite responsible because I have 3 plants in my room and none of them have died.
3. I wish I had the money to buy all the stupid shirts based on webcomics I've ever wanted. (Also stuff from infomercials.)
4. Conversation between Andrew and I about school. Also, he introduced me to Marina and Diamonds. :D
Andrew
mhmm, school starts sooo soon
3:25pmMe
I'm just not thinking about it. I may eventually cry and melodramatically fall to my knees and scream, "Nooooo!' to the heavens.
3:28pmAndrew
haha, I dont get why you dont like it? I like having a schedule and not just being a bum. Plus you get to see your friends everyday
3:30pmMe
1. I do like schedules. I've expressed this before. 2. I like my friends also. BUT 3. You don't always get to see your friends or even have classes with them and 4. I enjoy staying up late, eating constantly, reading stupid comics, and NOT thinking. I LOVE NOT THINKING! 5. I don't think I have a problem. I think you do.
5. -finds candy in living room- -eats-
6. I didn't help with VBS today because I was too tired from getting barely any sleep last night.
7. The candy is like Starburst gushers and I like them lots and lots.
8. I have a dayplanner and I enjoy writing in it.
9.My Furby sleeps a lot.
9a. I may have damaged it by trying to take it apart the other day. I wanted to know its secrets. I didn't do very well though and I didn't want to take it past the point of no return. But if you do want to know what a Furby looks like without its cute exterior, click HERE.
10. Oh my goodness this blog is so pointless. Go read a different one.
11. All the good colors of candy are gone. Foo!
12. I've only been awake like 5 hours but I still feel like I should take a nap.
13. I don't add people on facebook who I know will never talk to me. It's like, what's the point? I might as well go stare at a rock or something.
14. Lowriders are cute. Butt-crack is not. Sad.
15. It is really pretty outside right now at 6:25. But it's also hot.
16. Tori, Lexa, and I made cookies!
17. We all wish that every peice of technology was as smart as a person, but that it wouldn't take over the world.
18. After reading a blog, I now want a pet rat, like, badly.
19. If you read this far, I love you. If you didn't, I love you too, but not as much.
20. I'm really shaky and I dunno why but I just had a cookie and it was delicious!
21. Do list blogs take away from normal blogs or do they make normal blogs seem coherant and awesome?
22. In my head, I get koalas and pandas slightly confused.
23. In the soup we ate for dinner there were alphabet letters and when we saw them the three of us had to come up with words to match the letter. It was like poetry.
24. I want a job. But not a hard one. D:
25. What job do you think would be good for me? When I asked my mom she listed some options but she said Rue 21 like 4 times.
26. Statistically, the more often my mom makes me drive her around when I look ugly, the more likely people are going to see me looking ugly.
27.Andrew, in my travels, I stopped by your house and rang your doorbell and knocked on your door. You never answered. I felt creepy.
28. Love is such a magical thing. And never do I want it, except for when I notice myself not having it and other people being all, "Hey honey-pie, cutie face, love of my life! Let's go frolic and be so sweet we make people vomit." Not that anyone I know is like that, just that's how it happens in my head.
29. I'm sitting in the mostly dark of the front room, at my mom's computer, doing blog related activities, and playing guitar really badly.
30. I love the C chord. It makes me very happy.
31. Why am I so borrrrriinnggg? -sad face-
32. At dinner Tori started talking about a boy in her Tae Kwon Do class. Apparently, he wants to be a comic book writer and he's already written some. Also, he's 8. Tori said that she had written two books. I asked her about them. She told me that one of them was about a dog who went to competitions and was very successful, but then at his final competition he couldn't do his flip right because he was old and tired. Then he died in his sleep.
33. I also just introduced Tori to my Furby. They get along well. xp
34. I am so obsessed with Allie of Hyperbole and a Half.
35. Seems a good enough number to end, yeah? Love you people out there. Especially you.. ;D
Beds & Intruders
So, my little cousins, Tori and Lexa, came over and they're going to the VBS we're doing at The Park this weekend. They are adorable and interesting and I enjoy them as much as I enjoy most children. Which is enough. Anyway, being that they are like 10 and 9, I want to say, they went to bed at like 9:15. We said prayers and they snuggled in and I was like, "Peace out, homies, going to talk to mah friends and do interweb things." I grabbed like, my purse and phone and phone charger, thinking I'd go lay down once I was done or tired or whatever. My bed would comfortably fit all three of us.
Around 12:20 I decided I better go to sleep in order to get up at an unhealthy hour of the morning and go volunteer. I'm hoping this job involves snacks or crafts, and I shall keep you updated. So, at 12ish I walked back to my room and flipped on a light to see where I could lay down. Not only did this manage to wake them, but also I found an unsuitable scene in the light of my bedside lamp. The girls had somehow switched places from where they were originally AND separated to the far sides of the bed. And so I debated my situation in the course of like 5 seconds...
Option A: Wedge self between two and hope it doesn't get hot and uncomfortable and that you don't wake up with both of them attached to your sides and drooling on your shoulders.
Option B: Grab blanket and pillow quickly, turn off light, sleep on mini-couch like a hobo.
I chose B. Reasonings I do have. Well, for 1) I have slept between two young girls before when I went to the beach with Kortni and there is just too much moving and adjusting and night shoving and body heat for my taste. On that pull out bed in the hotel whoever was heaviest sunk down and then anyone else just fell beside them. Physics. 2) I didn't want to wake them further after I had blinded them. That woulda been rude. So, I slunk out and laid my stuff down. I decided not to sleep on the couch because it would have called for being scrunched up all night and like, tucking my head under, and, bleh.
So, I'm laying on the floor with my blanket awkwardly wrapped as to form a kind of sleeping bag, lamenting my lack of thought to grab my actual sleeping bag, and thinking what a good blog this would make for. I had like a bit of it covering my eye like an eye-patch because of the stupid blue light from my tv and I kept moving my feet on top of the other because they were alternately cold. I imagined myself as the epitome of stupid and uncomfortable.
And then, as my thoughts lead me, I realize I am the closest to ALL 3 doors. Slight panic rises. I would be the first killed or kidnapped or whatever. Then I thought, it'd be much better if I were in my room with the girls. Not only is my room farther away, also I could protect them and, who would kill little girls? Then I was thinking how that scenario would go down. Some crazy man in black intruder gear would burst through my door, I would quickly and heroically pull the girls up and make them hide in a corner, I would grab my stereo...and what? Throw it at his head? I mean, I've never been athletic, or able to throw, and I'm not great with depth perception. So, I imagine the stereo would land a couple feet in front of him, he'd look a little confused, and then he'd commence in killing us. So, bed or no, bad stuff would go down. And so is the tale of my life.
It's late, I'll tell you about VBS tomorrow. Now back to the floor-mo-bed!
Around 12:20 I decided I better go to sleep in order to get up at an unhealthy hour of the morning and go volunteer. I'm hoping this job involves snacks or crafts, and I shall keep you updated. So, at 12ish I walked back to my room and flipped on a light to see where I could lay down. Not only did this manage to wake them, but also I found an unsuitable scene in the light of my bedside lamp. The girls had somehow switched places from where they were originally AND separated to the far sides of the bed. And so I debated my situation in the course of like 5 seconds...
Option A: Wedge self between two and hope it doesn't get hot and uncomfortable and that you don't wake up with both of them attached to your sides and drooling on your shoulders.
Option B: Grab blanket and pillow quickly, turn off light, sleep on mini-couch like a hobo.
I chose B. Reasonings I do have. Well, for 1) I have slept between two young girls before when I went to the beach with Kortni and there is just too much moving and adjusting and night shoving and body heat for my taste. On that pull out bed in the hotel whoever was heaviest sunk down and then anyone else just fell beside them. Physics. 2) I didn't want to wake them further after I had blinded them. That woulda been rude. So, I slunk out and laid my stuff down. I decided not to sleep on the couch because it would have called for being scrunched up all night and like, tucking my head under, and, bleh.
So, I'm laying on the floor with my blanket awkwardly wrapped as to form a kind of sleeping bag, lamenting my lack of thought to grab my actual sleeping bag, and thinking what a good blog this would make for. I had like a bit of it covering my eye like an eye-patch because of the stupid blue light from my tv and I kept moving my feet on top of the other because they were alternately cold. I imagined myself as the epitome of stupid and uncomfortable.
And then, as my thoughts lead me, I realize I am the closest to ALL 3 doors. Slight panic rises. I would be the first killed or kidnapped or whatever. Then I thought, it'd be much better if I were in my room with the girls. Not only is my room farther away, also I could protect them and, who would kill little girls? Then I was thinking how that scenario would go down. Some crazy man in black intruder gear would burst through my door, I would quickly and heroically pull the girls up and make them hide in a corner, I would grab my stereo...and what? Throw it at his head? I mean, I've never been athletic, or able to throw, and I'm not great with depth perception. So, I imagine the stereo would land a couple feet in front of him, he'd look a little confused, and then he'd commence in killing us. So, bed or no, bad stuff would go down. And so is the tale of my life.
It's late, I'll tell you about VBS tomorrow. Now back to the floor-mo-bed!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
It's What Cool Kids Do
And by it, I mean lists.
1. The other night Andrew and I talked about going to jail, arm-pit hair for Locks of Love, and hair removing treatments. Among other things I can't remember.
2. I put random little lines of poetry everywhere. I write in notebooks or on random slips of paper, I write on my big paper in my room, or on my dayplanner. One such note I found while cleaning my desk.
Just be honest with me baby
And listen when I speak.
It's enough to make me happy
When I know most talk is cheap.
I have a running post going of these kinds of these. Eventually I'll post my Patchwork Poem.
3.I should be cleaning right now. I know most of the people coming over have been to my house already, multiple times. Some have been in my room when it was awful and waded through my clothes and probably sat on my underwear. Still, impressions, first or last or in between mean something. Like, "She puts in effort for those she cares about." "Her house is nice." Stuff like that that shouldn't matter but does. I actually kind of love when people come over and the house isn't perfect. It's like saying, "I trust you. I'm okay with you knowing that this is how I live a good deal of the time." And with friends, by goodness you should be able to do that. With family too, but no, family visits usually calls for cleaning as well. Bleh. No me gusta.
4.We have some games at my house, but like, odd ones. Like Trivial Pursuit and Backgammon. No, actually my mom bought Mad Gab the other day too. But still. I remember one night just going through the Trivial Pursuit cards and my dad acing a bunch of them. Here, let me see, one of the cards asks, "What is the Chinese book of changes called?" And apparently it's I Ching. Useless knowledge some, but still impressive. Also, I remember sitting out on a deck with Ashley, Mariah, Leah and some new girl. The girl was Allison, a friend of ours. It was during some church party and there was a lake and a game room. Most people were inside but we ventured out with snacks and listened to the soft music playing through speakers. I think TP was just sitting out on the table so we decided to play. We sat out there for what seemed like ages taking turns reading the cards and making jokes and laughing, squinting in mostly dark.
5. Also, I have a Happy Bunny mouse pad. It says, "Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it."Oh, goodness. This doesn't need to become another 'Things On My Desk' blog but that's like the only things I'm looking at since my desk is over in a corner. But, back to my train of thought. I'd like a new one, because it matches nothing and I took it from Mariah because my mouse wouldn't work otherwise. Just a black one would be cool with me. There are so many useless things I want. But, yeah. Happy Bunny mouse pad.
6. Books. I love to read and I love to re-read. There are so many books I'd like to read again. The other day I started reading the Harry Potters again since we have them now. I want to show you some quotes I've liked so far. (And I'm only on page 133)
"Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the [sorting] hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him."
"Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here!"-Dumbledore
7. I picked out how to play a bit of the Bed Intruder song on our tiny electric piano. That song enchants me.
8. A song by Parry Gripp about brave rodents.
9.I think rats are really cute. We had some at one point. 2 hairless rats whom we called Pinky and Snuggles. Obvious names are obvious. They were really sweet, but smelly and with long nails. We didn't have them for too long. Despite my mom's later realization that it was probably not the best purchase she loved them. She has loved every pet we've had.
10. Another useless video from my albinoblacksheep days...here.
11.Fantasia. Have I ever blogged about it? It's the world in The Neverending Story. That movie is so amazing. I'm pretty sure we have it because I watched it a while ago. Even with the horrible CGI and the weird plot-line it still manages to amuse, mystify, and warm my heart. <333>
12. I keep losing the end of my post. But basically it said that I feel pressed, like I have a large weight on me and there isn't anything I can do about it. I hate when people point things out and call you out when you have no way to fix it. I hate when people won't hear you or accept a word you say because of their preconcieved notions of your opinion, or your situation, or you as a person. And I need someone to talk to.
And listen when I speak.
It's enough to make me happy
When I know most talk is cheap.
I have a running post going of these kinds of these. Eventually I'll post my Patchwork Poem.
3.I should be cleaning right now. I know most of the people coming over have been to my house already, multiple times. Some have been in my room when it was awful and waded through my clothes and probably sat on my underwear. Still, impressions, first or last or in between mean something. Like, "She puts in effort for those she cares about." "Her house is nice." Stuff like that that shouldn't matter but does. I actually kind of love when people come over and the house isn't perfect. It's like saying, "I trust you. I'm okay with you knowing that this is how I live a good deal of the time." And with friends, by goodness you should be able to do that. With family too, but no, family visits usually calls for cleaning as well. Bleh. No me gusta.
4.We have some games at my house, but like, odd ones. Like Trivial Pursuit and Backgammon. No, actually my mom bought Mad Gab the other day too. But still. I remember one night just going through the Trivial Pursuit cards and my dad acing a bunch of them. Here, let me see, one of the cards asks, "What is the Chinese book of changes called?" And apparently it's I Ching. Useless knowledge some, but still impressive. Also, I remember sitting out on a deck with Ashley, Mariah, Leah and some new girl. The girl was Allison, a friend of ours. It was during some church party and there was a lake and a game room. Most people were inside but we ventured out with snacks and listened to the soft music playing through speakers. I think TP was just sitting out on the table so we decided to play. We sat out there for what seemed like ages taking turns reading the cards and making jokes and laughing, squinting in mostly dark.
5. Also, I have a Happy Bunny mouse pad. It says, "Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it."Oh, goodness. This doesn't need to become another 'Things On My Desk' blog but that's like the only things I'm looking at since my desk is over in a corner. But, back to my train of thought. I'd like a new one, because it matches nothing and I took it from Mariah because my mouse wouldn't work otherwise. Just a black one would be cool with me. There are so many useless things I want. But, yeah. Happy Bunny mouse pad.
6. Books. I love to read and I love to re-read. There are so many books I'd like to read again. The other day I started reading the Harry Potters again since we have them now. I want to show you some quotes I've liked so far. (And I'm only on page 133)
"Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the [sorting] hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him."
"Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here!"-Dumbledore
7. I picked out how to play a bit of the Bed Intruder song on our tiny electric piano. That song enchants me.
8. A song by Parry Gripp about brave rodents.
9.I think rats are really cute. We had some at one point. 2 hairless rats whom we called Pinky and Snuggles. Obvious names are obvious. They were really sweet, but smelly and with long nails. We didn't have them for too long. Despite my mom's later realization that it was probably not the best purchase she loved them. She has loved every pet we've had.
10. Another useless video from my albinoblacksheep days...here.
11.Fantasia. Have I ever blogged about it? It's the world in The Neverending Story. That movie is so amazing. I'm pretty sure we have it because I watched it a while ago. Even with the horrible CGI and the weird plot-line it still manages to amuse, mystify, and warm my heart. <333>
12. I keep losing the end of my post. But basically it said that I feel pressed, like I have a large weight on me and there isn't anything I can do about it. I hate when people point things out and call you out when you have no way to fix it. I hate when people won't hear you or accept a word you say because of their preconcieved notions of your opinion, or your situation, or you as a person. And I need someone to talk to.
Plans For Tonight
-Make Easy Mac
-Go Into My Bedroom
-Read Harry Potter, Laying On My Bed Beside My Cat, Wearing My Party Dress
"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to."
-Go Into My Bedroom
-Read Harry Potter, Laying On My Bed Beside My Cat, Wearing My Party Dress
"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to."
Friday, August 6, 2010
Shallow Blog About Cute Shoes
Today there was some big warehouse sale at Shoe Show. These are my spoils. Te gustan?I was going to write more, but honestly, how much can you say about shoes?
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
Hidden and Found
Today Mariah and I searched around a small shop called The Book Trader. I searched through the fiction section, read the last paragraph of a couple books, smelled some of them, just for. Then we ventured back to the Young Adult/Crime novel area. It was just a small room really, almost a cubby. Underneath various Classics, Mariah unearthed a copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. It was a big, beautiful copy, a hardback with black and white pictures. I flipped through and fell in love with the book. As I flipped the sturdy pages they opened to show two thin white pieces of paper, folded in on themselves. Poetry,written out, by someone named Phyllis Long. Both poems, by Nikki Giovanni.
BALANCES
in life
one is always
balancing
like we juggle our mothers
against our father
or one teacher
against another
(only to balance our grade average)
3 grains of salt
to one grain of truth
our sweet essence
to the people down the street
and lately i've been wondering
if you're trying to tell me something
we used to talk all night
and do things together
and i've begun
(as a reaction to a feeling)
to balance
the pleasure of loneliness
against the pain
of loving you
And she signs her name at the bottom, Phyllis. Then in the corner she writes, "With apologies concerning 'I Remember'", which happens to be the other piece of paper.
I REMEMBER
i remember learning you jump
in your sleep and smile
when you wake up
at first you cuddle
then one arm across my stomach
then one leg touching my leg then
you turn your back
but you smile when you wake up
i was surprised to know you don't care
if your amp burns all night and that you could
play oh-me-oh-my over and over again just
because you remember
i discovered you don't like hair
in your bathroom sink and never step
your wet feet onto a clean rug
you will answer your phone
but you don't talk too long and you do
rub my toes and make faces
while you talk
and your voice told her anyway
that i was there
you can get up at three and make sandwiches
and orange juice and tell jokes
you sometimes make incoherent sentences
you snore
and you smile when you wake up
i know you cry when you're hurt
and curse when you're angry
and try when you don't feel
like it and smile at me
when you wake up
these things i learned through
a simple single touch
when fleshes clashed
I love that one so much! Both are going on my wall. I feel like maybe I shouldn't have taken them, like maybe Phyllis will come back to that shop to find these poems. I don't know the story. Maybe she gave the book to a friend, or past lover, to whom the poems acted as letters.Maybe that's why she signed her name instead of Nikki's. Maybe that person gave the book away after never opening it, never wanting to know what all it held. Her words show such sadness, but in a calm and collected way. Beautiful, really. And maybe I wasn't meant to have them.But I was the one who found them, and that gave me motive enough to bring them with me. I never got Leaves of Grass. Mariah found Harry Potters and found them the more desirable choice. I left the book, hoping I'd come across it later, but kept the papers, knowing I might never find them again, not like they were, written and hidden.
BALANCES
in life
one is always
balancing
like we juggle our mothers
against our father
or one teacher
against another
(only to balance our grade average)
3 grains of salt
to one grain of truth
our sweet essence
to the people down the street
and lately i've been wondering
if you're trying to tell me something
we used to talk all night
and do things together
and i've begun
(as a reaction to a feeling)
to balance
the pleasure of loneliness
against the pain
of loving you
And she signs her name at the bottom, Phyllis. Then in the corner she writes, "With apologies concerning 'I Remember'", which happens to be the other piece of paper.
I REMEMBER
i remember learning you jump
in your sleep and smile
when you wake up
at first you cuddle
then one arm across my stomach
then one leg touching my leg then
you turn your back
but you smile when you wake up
i was surprised to know you don't care
if your amp burns all night and that you could
play oh-me-oh-my over and over again just
because you remember
i discovered you don't like hair
in your bathroom sink and never step
your wet feet onto a clean rug
you will answer your phone
but you don't talk too long and you do
rub my toes and make faces
while you talk
and your voice told her anyway
that i was there
you can get up at three and make sandwiches
and orange juice and tell jokes
you sometimes make incoherent sentences
you snore
and you smile when you wake up
i know you cry when you're hurt
and curse when you're angry
and try when you don't feel
like it and smile at me
when you wake up
these things i learned through
a simple single touch
when fleshes clashed
I love that one so much! Both are going on my wall. I feel like maybe I shouldn't have taken them, like maybe Phyllis will come back to that shop to find these poems. I don't know the story. Maybe she gave the book to a friend, or past lover, to whom the poems acted as letters.Maybe that's why she signed her name instead of Nikki's. Maybe that person gave the book away after never opening it, never wanting to know what all it held. Her words show such sadness, but in a calm and collected way. Beautiful, really. And maybe I wasn't meant to have them.But I was the one who found them, and that gave me motive enough to bring them with me. I never got Leaves of Grass. Mariah found Harry Potters and found them the more desirable choice. I left the book, hoping I'd come across it later, but kept the papers, knowing I might never find them again, not like they were, written and hidden.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)