Winter is dumb

It's my last finals week.

A tree came through our window and now there's a big plastic sheet over it.

We've been without power for 30 hours now.

Finals are back in session.

I live in a basement, therefore, cannot shower, flush the toilet, or run any water.

It's cold.

I'm grumpy.

Winter is dumb.

Pout pout pout.

Blog behavior

I graduate on Saturday. Really. I can prove it. http://www.k-state.edu/media/newsreleases/lists/fa07/fallgradsf.html

So I feel like I should be blogging about the importance of college and my thoughts on the past 3.5 years and a top ten list of things I've learned and seen and done, etc. Really reflect on my youth, blah blah blah.

And I would really like to.

I just don't have the time.

All week I've been feeling unsettled. I'm on this constant wave of caffeine and stress and paperwork. I've gotten shots, gotten stamps, filled out future alumni sheets of every color. Finished papers, revised others, slept not at all. And at the same time that I'm doing all of this, I'm lamenting all the things that I wish I could be doing. Which is exactly how I've felt the past 3.5 years. Oh as soon as I finish this thing, then I can finally do what I want. Always in the future. The unreachable tomorrow. One of my CCD teachers remarked that you'll never get to tomorrow. Because when you reach it, it's just today. I think I was in second grade, but I've felt sort of depressed about it ever since. I hope that after I finish this paper and graduate and then read the books and take my finals and figure out Christmas presents and get home and turn in my substitute teaching stuff and write my novels and get my first publications and take the GRE and get accepted to Grad school and find loans to pay for it and then move to the new city and get the new apartment and call the water company... Then I'll blog about the shining memories of college.

Right now though, it is today. And today is full. So is tomorrow's today.

I need a lollipop.

*EDIT* It' s not all bad. I've been listening to Ingrid's old album- Slow the Rain- only available through iTunes. I love it love it love it. If you can get past the weird "Mosquito" song and just sink down into "A Bird's Song" all stress just floats away.

Joy

I'm obsessed with this song right now. She sang it in Kansas City and it was devastatingly beautiful. Just perfect. But I can't find it on any of her albums. Anyone have any ideas? I just can't get enough.

Starting to itch

I feel it again.

That antsy stir. The agitation that makes it impossible for me to focus on a task for more than ten minutes at a time. My mind is selective. I forget names. Forget what I'm talking about. Forget what my hands are doing while my mouth is moving and words that are disconnected from my brain are coming out. It's like I'm constantly spinning, and I'm just trying to find a spot to look at each time around. Waiting for something to come in focus. Waiting and waiting. I need to be spinning toward something. I need to keep the spin from becoming a spiral.

Today was a hard day for my college football heart. K-State lost. We couldn't catch a break. Josh's face was stressed and confused and betrayed as Prince's golden boy continually got smacked on the nose. Jordy couldn't save him. It was impossible to watch. It reminded me, in a small way, of what Mom said after the Big 12 championship loss to A&M in '98. We were all so involved that she couldn't watch for most of the next season. It seems silly, improbable even. But it's nice to know that I'm not the only one in my family who is overly attached to this sport. OSU lost in the final seconds. Tears were shed. Boston College and Matt Ryan finally failed to bring it home. Even though they were #2, they always felt like the underdog. Anyone playing Bobby Bowden feels like an underdog to me. KU might be in the top 5 tomorrow. I'm spinning and spinning and spinning and trying desperately to recognize Big 12 football again. Hard day.

We finally broke down and turned on the heater today. I've been wearing three pairs of socks around the house and Hailey came home today to find me curled up on the couch, in my socks, two pairs of pants, three shirts, my hood pulled over my face and snuggled under a blanket, still shivering. We couldn't even make it to January. Jack London, I am not.

I just heard on the news that they're making a memorial picture of Greensburg, putting it on an ornament and hanging it on a Christmas tree at the White House. Um... great?

Don't forget to change your clocks, all. Happy Fall back day.

Reading for fun

I should be writing my 20 page essay test for Family Relationship and Gender Roles.

What am I actually doing?

Re-reading Lorrie Moore and finding new music on myspace. Aren't you supposed to learn time management by the time you graduate? I wonder if they'll take away my diploma.

"What makes humans human is precisely that they do not know the future. That is why they do the fateful and amusing things they do: who can say how anything will turn out? Therein lies the only hope for redemption, discovery, and--let's be frank--fun, fun, fun! There might be things people will get away with. And not just motel towels. There might be great illicit loves, enduring joy, faith-shaking accidents with farm machinery. But you have to not know in order to see what stories your life's efforts bring you. The mystery is all." ~ Lorrie Moore

When I grow up, I want to drink a beer with Lorrie and talk about the boyfriends of her past. Or maybe just take her class. I'm down with settling.

Music of the week: Wilco, Jessie Baylin, William Fitzsimmons, Jeff Buckley and The New Pornographers.

Check it.

John Krasinski Interview

An oldie but a goody.

New Ingrid song

For those of you who are already Ingrid fans, this is one not on either of her albums. This version was shot in Kentucky, but she sang it last night in Nashville too.

Love it.

I'm a big girl now, see my big girl shoes

Um, yup. That's me. With my arm around Ingrid Michaelson. She was fabulous. Nashville was fabulous. The drive home was not fabulous and I officially hate Missouri, which is problematic because it is home to the and only Artichoke Annie's- the single biggest and best antique mall you will ever see.

I'm exhausted. I will never catch up with all my school work and I graduate from college in 6 weeks.

Commence the freak out.

Also, Ingrid and I are bffs. She's stellar.

Just letting you know in advance

This week is impossible.

Also, I'm leaving for Nashville on Saturday. If anyone has been to Nashville and knows of things/places I need to do/see, please comment and I will thank you next week, when life will begin to slow down again.

Ugh.

Yup. I'm that girl.

I changed my profile picture. I hate to admit that I'm one of "those" anythings, but I am. I like those ridiculous emo weird angle profile pictures. And where else can they be used except for blog profile pictures? I feel like the fact that I'm indulging myself in even keeping an internet journal requires that I take those sorts of pictures. Anyway, that's my official excuse.

This week I finally went on a bike ride with Jamie. It was a rather humbling experience. I still remember back in the day when Cassandra and I would ride our bikes all over town, marveling at how much more fun bike riding was when you were allowed to go past your own block. And now I can't enjoy it. I can't enjoy it because sometime between quitting volleyball and discovering beer, I have lost all muscle mass. It's ridiculous. It was a perfect day, a wonderful trail and the endorphins should've saved me. Instead, I felt completely guilty. I'm 22. It shouldn't be this hard. My beautiful, wonderful, strong big sister is off running 10ks and I can't even handle low impact bike riding. It's time to reclaim... something.

Tonight I went to see StopKiss. It was not excellent. Then Amanda and I ate cheese sticks and personal pan pizzas for dinner. She drank Mountain Dew. I got stuck in the bathroom. We both felt sick minutes after eating. It was most excellent.

I am now spending the remainder of my Friday night catching up on emails and watching the end of Stranger Than Fiction. What is it about Maggie Gylenhaal that makes her so dang cute? Is it her clothes, or her clothes plus her tiny frame? Because I think I could do the clothes. And I could work on the hair. Today I used mousse! It was an experience. Either way, I'd like to be Maggie Gylenhaal, sometime in the future.

EP of the week: Elizabeth and the Catapult
Forgotten but wonderful artist: Aimee Mann
Indie movie I should love but don't: Mutual Appreciation
Office quote of the week:
Andy: They say you should never mix business with pleasure. Really. Well then explain to me how a putt-putt golf company operates.

K-State on College Gameday

I'm a proud mama.

Am I invisible?

Yesterday, three things happened that made me feel like I was disappearing.

First, I sat down in class. In this class, we sit in a big circle. The desks are suffocatingly close together. And every day I go to class and hold my breath, hoping that I will get through the hour without having to enter into any awkward socialization with my classmates. Except for the boy who smells good. I hope that he talks to me. Anyway, yesterday, I sat down and the two grad students on either side of me started a conversation across me. With their elbows on my desk, completely blocking me from existence. Uncomfortable. Invisible.

Number two: At the end of class, the boy sitting next to me got up, flipped his backpack over his shoulder and his strap hit me in the face. But of course, no one seemed to notice. Then good smelling boy got up and crossed the room... to talk to girl on the other side of me. Strike 120.

Number three: After a frustrating day, I started walking home, only to round the corner and be hit in the face again with the arm of some guy's sweatshirt. He at least noticed that his sweatshirt hit something, but didn't acknowledge me.

It's interesting, because when I'm at the grocery store, getting a salad, for example, I hate it when there are people behind me that are waiting for me to finish. If someone comes up next to me, part of me wants to just abandon the whole thing and go look at the potatoes until they all go away. But the second that I start becoming so invisible that people hit me in the face and not notice... well, that's not really what I'm going for.

I don't want Garbage! I want Sprinkles!

Okay. So the sleep deprivation was totally worth it. I'm getting so spoiled with these hour long episodes. So much funny.

Michael: We had a foreign exchange student live with us when I was young. And we called him my brother. And that’s what I thought he was. Um, then he went home to what is now formerly Yugoslavia, taking all of my blue jeans with him. And I had to spend the entire winter in shorts. That is what Ryan is like. A fake brother who steals your jeans.


Happy Friday, all! Sunflower Showdown tomorrow. FSN. 11am. I'm hoping it doesn't end in deja vu.

Musical discovery of the week: Jaymay. Right now these lyrics are my thoughts.

Gray or Blue- Jaymay

I feel so helpless now, my guitar is not around
And I'm struggling with the xylophone to make these feelings sound
And I'm remembering you singing and bringing you to life
It's raining out the window and today it looks like night

You haven't written to me in a week I'm wondering why that is
Are you too nervous to be lovers, friendships ruined with just one kiss
I watched you very closely I saw you look away
Your eyes are either gray or blue I'm never close enough to say

But your sweatshirt says it all with the hood over your face
I can't keep staring at your mouth without wondering how it tastes
I'm with another boy; he's asleep, I'm wide awake
And he tried to win my heart, but it's taken time

I know the shape of your hands because I watch them when you talk
And I know the shape of your body 'cause I watch it when you walk
And I want to know it all but I'm giving you the lead
So go on, go on and take it, don't fake it, shake it

(Charming,
Crazy eyes have you,
Are they gray or blue,
I wont make the move,
You must make the move,
If you make the move,
I will then approve,
If you do not move,
We will surely lose)

Don't second guess your feelings you were right from the start
And I notice she's your lover, but she's nowhere near your heart
This city is for strangers, like the sky is for the stars
But I think it's very dangerous if we do not take whats ours

And I'm winning you with words because I have no other way
I want to look into your face without your eyes turning away
Last night I watched you sing because a person has to try
And I walked home in the rain because a person cannot lie

Time Zones

Things that have always baffled me:

1. Time Zones
2. The Post Office
3. VCR Recording
4. Cottage cheese
5. Jumper cables

Tonight, I stayed up until 2am, because I thought that I read on the website that they would post the new episode of The Office at 2. Turns out that was 2 pacific time. Meaning 5 eastern, meaning... sometime tomorrow central. I wouldn't have to stay up this late if I could figure out my stupid VCR and tape something other than 122 minutes of static. Also, my cottage cheese smells like rubber cement. I think it was wise not to eat it.

Also this week, I have finally figured out what people meant when they said,

"I loved college, but I would never do it again."

I love college, but I will never do it again. Except grad school. Which doesn't count. This has been a completely ridiculous week. But for no good reason. It would've been a fine week if I hadn't watched 36 hours of football last weekend and spent the rest of last week well... being silly. Sometimes I feel like I'll always be a hormonal teenager.

Also, I like being 22. Whenever someone would ask me my age before, and I'd say 21, they'd look at me like I was drunk or hungover or in the process of one of those. Even if we were at church or it was 2pm on a Tuesday. Anyway, I say I'm 22 and people don't really have an opinion. So I suppose that's better?

I should really be asleep right now.

Last thing. I found this quote this week and I really like it. I also like that it makes me seem like I read a lot of Anais Nin.

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage."

Words to live by.

The Office Summer Vacation

Eeek! The first four are hour long episodes! I really need to get a more exciting life so that television doesn't make me this happy. Maybe next week.

Also, tomorrow is my birthday. We started the celebration on Saturday night. Rachael, Kristin and I got all dressed up- I even wore ridiculous heels- and then met up with a bunch of our friends at The Little Grill. Three hours later, we had finally received our food and our tickets, and I'm pretty sure that the waitress quit five minutes after we left. But it was a good night. Tomorrow we're having round two at Houlihan's, and then I'll post pictures.

Also today I got this in my fortune cookie:
"Today is a disastrous day. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."
What kind of fortune is that? Worse yet, this is the second time I've received that exact fortune.

I'm bad luck. Keep your distance.

Foy Vance

Okay. I'm doing this again. Maybe someday I'll post about my life. But until then you get sweet sweet music. This one comes with lyrics, just for Betsy, who refuses to like my music because she only likes lyrics. Uh huh.

Also, his first album came out in July but isn't available on iTunes. This is convenient because I happen to be turning 22 in a week.

See? I posted about my life.

Now listen and love.

New Favorite

Her name is Kate Walsh. She has music videos, but she's just so flawless live.

Love her.

National Champs?

Football Season 2007 has officially begun. We watched the first game at Buffalo Wild Wings and consumed lots of wings, onion rings and big beers. Also, John Lantz clocked me in the eye with his enormous elbow when we got our first first down of the game. Next week, we're all wearing helmets.

wats life witout an ?

Today, I lost my "h" key. One minute, I'm typing emails full of "thes" and "those" and "hibachi," and then I go have lunch with Rachael, come back and discover that my h key has died. I don't know if something got stuck in it and it wouldn't work or what happened, but now I have this hole in the middle of my keyboard and my finger is trying desperately to learn to hit the exact middle of each key.

Luckily, today wasn't all bad. Today, I found out that K-State Proud awarded me my scholarship. I should be over the moon. I should be so excited and relieved and bursting with joy... but I feel so guilty. Like... this money should be going to other people with bigger problems and that I should be working more than 12 hours a week. I don't know. And I feel like I would feel less guilty if I let them publish my story to advertise what the association can do for other students, but I just don't want to put that information out there. So blogging world- any ideas on a happy medium? Everyone else is so happy for me, and I want to be able to share their joy.

I did, however, share the joy that is "Superbad" with Rachael tonight. It is not a movie that I can recommend, but I did laugh the entire time. If you feel like being 21 and immoral again, go see the movie and enjoy yourself.

My Development of the English Language teacher is off the charts geeky. First day of class, penny loafers. Second day of class, comes in with his polo shirt on inside out. Third day of class, I realize he still wears his class ring. Fourth day of class, he sends out an email. Turns out his profile picture for gmail is Gilligan. And he has openly admitted to spending Saturday afternoons, "tooling around on the OED and looking up words." He's fascinating to me. Why did he come here from Vermont? Why does he have a giant office with a PC from 1992. Why doesn't he have a printer in his giant office. What music was he listening to when I came to visit him at his office? What kind of friends does he have that let him get through half the day with his shirt on inside out? The man wears tube socks with his suits. And tells linguistic jokes. Seriously fascinating.

Tonight for dinner Hailey and I tried to be more adventurous, because Beau always accuses us of being Grandmas. So we went to Whiskey Creek and had the soup and salad... with cocktails. Have you ever tried to eat baked potato soup while drinking an appletini? It was disgusting. And the appletini, Betsy, was just slightly better than that terrible Cosmopolitan I had at Chili's. But at least we tried. Then, true to form, we went to Wal-Mart and bought scrapbooking supplies and muffin mix. And Hailey went to bed at 10:30. It's a wild and crazy life we live.

Hipster Olympics

Changes come

I knew that I shouldn't have posted my schedule. As soon as you post your schedule, something shifts within you and you suddenly realize... you need to change everything. So I did.

I'm now, as most of you probably already know, graduating in December.

Mad props for me for changing my major seven times and graduating early. It makes me feel like kind of a rockstar. Like I cheated the system or something.

But it also makes me really sad to be leaving without my full four years. I know that I have grad school. And I know that K-State isn't home to me anymore. I know where I need to be, but then there are moments, when I'm hanging out in my beautiful room that I just finished decorating, or laughing with Hailey and Beau in the living room, or going to buy eggrolls in the middle of the night with Rachael... that I realize how much I will miss it here too.

Mostly I'm excited to graduate. Excited that it snuck up on me and that I get to take all the classes I've been wanting to take in one semester and that I now have an excuse not to work 30 hours a week. So far, everything has been working out, and I just keep relying on the signs to remind me that I'm making the right decision. And really, who needs a sign when my fortune cookie yesterday said this:

"Going with the flow will make your transition ever so much easier."

I'm coming home.

The beginning of the end

Here is my schedule for the first semester of my senior year.

Monday:

11:30- Realism and Sentimentalism in American Literature
5:30-8- Family Relationships & Gender Roles

Tuesday:

9:30-10:45- Professional Writing

Wednesday/Friday:

11:30- Realism and Sentimentalism in American Lit

Thursday:

9:30- Professional Writing
7-10- Adv. Fiction Writing

It is pretty much the best semester ever. I dropped Intro to creative non-fiction writing after the first day because it was a joke, and every annoying english major that I had ever encountered previously was in the class, so I got out quickly. Which turned out to be a blessing, because I discovered Professional Writing which will be much more beneficial.

Currently, for my lit class we're reading "Charlotte Temple." It's some of the most beautiful writing I've read in a long time.

"True, and painful as these feelings are, I would not exchange them for that torpor which the stoic mistakes for philosophy. Then let us, my friend, take the cup of life as it is presented to us, tempered by the hand of a wise Providence; be thankful for the good, be patient under the evil, and presume not to inquire why the latter predominates."

So many times in my stories, and in life, I have attempted to articulate that very argument, but never quite as clearly as that. It's a beautiful and heart wrenching book. I'm not sure if I recommend it yet, but I think it would be wise to make your daughters read it before they enter high school/college.

So far, this semester, I have rediscovered the joy of being an english major. Hailey has labs and has to study pages of notes and boring textbooks, and I get to read novels and write stories. I'm going to miss it.

Also, I'm already sick. Apparently my immune system isn't used to being on a schedule and staying productive. It's ridiculous. I am also still looking for a second job. Currently I have applied at People's Grocery, iTAC help desk, Dusty Bookshelf, Motel 6, Hastings, Stickel's Dry Cleaning, Four Olives, Hobby Lobby, Planet Sub and Curbside Recycling. You'd think that someone, eventually will call me back and offer me a job. Surely. I'm getting a little bit frustrated with all this free time.

Oops

Tonight, I accidentally dyed my hair black.

It's going to be a great senior year.

The stress of being a spaz

I'm back in Manhattan. So far so good. But there have been a few stumbles.

Yesterday I had a really bad headache, so after the eating of food and excedrin migraine didn't help, I figured it was time for a little physical activity. So I left my house to go for a run in the park. At 4 in the afternoon. The problem with living at home all summer in a house without air conditioning is that when you leave and come to a house WITH air conditioning, you forget that the temperature isn't the same inside and out. I ran about a mile before my fingers started tingling. I figured I was just out of shape, that I just needed to push through. After another half mile my fingers were completely numb. So I decided okay, I'll just walk a couple of miles and then head home. But by that point, I started to notice the sun. And the fact that there were no other people in the park. And the amount of sweating that I was doing. By the time I got home, I couldn't even bend my fingers to hold the key to get in the door. It took three bottles of water and thirty minutes spent gasping on the floor in front of my fan to return to my normal condition.

Then came stumble two. I have been searching high and low for a second job. And every time I call back, or request an application, they let me know that I have *just* missed the deadline. Perfect. So today I got a call from my friend Jimmy letting me know that iTAC was hiring. (The tech help desk in the library) So I scoot on over to the library, park illegally, because of course- all the metered spots in front of the union are gone because of the stupid ugly parking garage construction. Anyway, I get in the library, all sweaty and out of breath, fill out the 6 page application, which has a whole page devoted to different computer programming language and jargon that I'm supposed to describe and of course... I have no idea. So anyway, get that done, and then it turns out that I'm supposed to make three copies of the application. Fine, I find a copier, and then can't figure out how to make double sided copies. So I ask someone, and then a guy comes out to help me, and I admit to him that I don't want to go back and ask IT, because it's their application. He looks at me funny and I realize... of course... HE is an iTAC person, probably the one who is shredding my application as we speak. But he couldn't figure out the copier either, so I make the copies and turn it back in, and am ready to go out and face the many parking tickets that are sure to be on my windshield. But alas, I get to the car, beam at the empty windshield and discover... I've lost my phone. I know that I had it in the library, because I used it to fill out my references, but I don't have it anymore.

So I go ask the circulation desk- nada. I ask the guy sitting at my computer- nada. I look all around the copier. I freak out, instead of going back to iTAC again, I rush out and drive like a mad woman to alltel to see how much a new phone will be. I need this phone. And I need the same number because I've just filled out 15 job applications in the last 3 days with that number all over it. And, more importantly, Amanda and I had a Chipotle dinner date that she was supposed to be calling me about in the next 30 minutes. So I rush across town, realize that 100 people are crammed into the store and wait until finally a grumpy woman with a clipboard approaches me.

Grumpy Lady: "What do you need?"
Me: "A new phone. I just lost mine."
GL: "Have you filled out a police report?"
Me: "No."
GL: "Do you expect to file an insurance claim today?"
Me: "Wha? I need a new phone. I lost mine."
GL: "Well you can't have it before you fill out a police report. But I guess we can get someone to talk to you. What's your name?"
Me: "Susan Al..."
GL: "Sit down. We'll get to you."

I sat for maybe two minutes, decided it was stupid, and left. Drove back across town, back to the library, sweating like a yucky lady and went back to iTAC where, thank goodness, a new shift had started. But they didn't have my phone. So I tried the information desk, and there, the blessed blessed exchange student from Zaire gave me my silver and black kyocera and a smile. I have never wanted her job more.

So I don't think I got the iTAC job. I know I didn't get the Dusty Bookshelf job because they hired everyone back in July. And neither of the libraries are hiring, and People's hasn't called me back yet and I fear that I'm going to have to go back to Pita Pit. If anyone has any other fantastic ideas... please please share. I'm out of ideas.

Beautiful day!

Oh my goodness.

Follow this link: http://www.myspace.com/scratchtrack

and listen to "All Night".

If it doesn't make you get up and dance, you just might be dead.

Vacation time

Tomorrow I leave for Colorado, for the 15th annual Alsop family summer vacation to the Cabin. This year I will hopefully be reading more classics, so that Dad will perhaps believe that I am in the right major. This year I plan to write some each day, to take walks on my own, and to take pictures of what I see. This year I want to think less about silly relationships and more about how to make the most of the time that I have with my family. This year I want to have a relaxing vacation, without tears shed over laying the fire, or spilling orange soda, or having to get up early for morning duty. This year, I will try to let Matthew have the last piece of bacon. We'll see how it goes.

But before I go, here's another poem. Maybe this year I'll write some more poetry to share with you via this blog. At the very least, I'll have pictures.

Starfish- Eleanor Lerman

This is what life does. It lets you walk up to
the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a
stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have
your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman
down beside you at the counter who says, Last night,
the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,
is this a message, finally, or just another day?

Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the
pond, where whole generations of biological
processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds
speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,
they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old
enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?
There is movement beneath the water, but it
may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.

And then life suggests that you remember the
years you ran around, the years you developed
a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,
owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are
genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have
become. And then life lets you go home to think
about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.
Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one
who never had any conditions, the one who waited
you out. This is life’s way of letting you know that
you are lucky. (It won’t give you smart or brave,
so you’ll have to settle for lucky.) Because you
were born at a good time. Because you were able
to listen when people spoke to you. Because you
stopped when you should have and started again.
So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your
late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And
then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,
while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,
with smiles on their starry faces as they head
out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.

Yep, it's another poem

Silver-lined Heart- Taylor Mali

I’m for reckless abandon
and spontaneous celebrations of nothing at all,
like the twin flutes I kept in the trunk of my car
in a box labeled Emergency Champagne Glasses!

Raise an unexpected glass to long, cold winters
and sweet hot summers and the beautiful confusion of the times in between.
To the unexpected drenching rain that leaves you soaking
wet and smiling breathless;
“We danced in the garden in torn sheets in the rain,”
we were christened in the sanctity of the sprinkler,
can’t you hear it singing out its Hallelujah?

Here’s to the soul-expanding power
of the simply beautiful.

See, things you hate, things you despise,
multinational corporations and lies that politicians tell,
injustices that make you mad as hell,
that’s all well and good.
And as far as writing poems goes,
I guess you should.
It just might be a poem that gets Mumia released,
brings an end to terrorism or peace in the middle east.

But as far as what soothes me, what inspires and moves me,
honesty behooves me to tell you your rage doesn’t move me.
See, like the darkest of clouds my heart has a silver lining,
which does not harken to the loudest whining,
but beats and stirs and grows ever more
when I learn of the things you’re actually for.

That’s why I’m for best friends, long drives, and smiles,
nothing but the sound of thinking for miles.
For the unconditional love of dogs:
may we learn the lessons of their love by heart.
For therapy when you need it,
and poetry when you need it.
And the wisdom to know the difference.

The solution to every problem usually involves some kind of liquid,
even if it’s only Emergency Champagne
or running through the sprinkler.
Can’t you hear it calling you?

I’m for crushes not acted upon, for admiration from afar,
for the delicate and the resilient and the fragile human heart,
may it always heal stronger than it was before.
For walks in the woods, and the for the woods themselves,
by which I mean the trees. Definitely for the trees.
Window seats, and locally brewed beer,
and love letters written by hand with fountain pens:
I’m for all of these.

I’m for evolution more than revolution
unless you’re offering some kind of solution.

I’m for the courage it takes to volunteer, to say “yes,” “I believe,” and “I will.”
For the bright side, the glass half full, the silver lining,
and the optimists who consider darkness just a different kind of shining.

So don’t waste my time and your curses on verses
about what you are against, despise, and abhor.
Tell me what inspires you, what fulfills and fires you,
put your precious pen to paper and tell me what you’re for!

I'm going to make this into a poster with one of my favorite Jo Reese originals. Guess you'll have to come visit me if you want to see it.

Creative busywork

This is my picture of the day.

I also started working on my poetry project. The design part took about ten minutes. The computer part took seven hours. I still have no idea what it will look like when I pick it up from Wal-Mart. I was planning on posting a picture, but I got impatient. Instead, you can look at this nice picture that someone else took.

I also started digging through more old poetry. Eventually I'll shake this kick, but not yet. Here's one from Amy Fleury, poet and professor at Washburn University.

At Twenty Eight- Amy Fleury

It seems I get by on more luck than sense,

not the kind brought on by knuckle to wood,

breath on dice or pennies found in the mud.

I shimmy and slip by on pure fool chance.

At turns, charmed and cursed, a girl knows romance

as coffee, red wine, and books; solitude

she counts as daylight virtue and muted

evenings, the inventory of absence.

But this is no sorry spinster story,

just the way days string together a life.

Sometimes I eat soup right out of the pan.

Sometimes I don’t care if I will marry.

I dance in my kitchen on Friday nights,

singing like only a lucky girl can.

Current music discoveries: Lindsey Cook, Fionn Regan, and Sara Bareilles. Love love love.

How I spent my day

I watched a lot of Office videos on YouTube.

Because I am unemployed.

Discovery Day

I found these pictures and lots of others on deviantART.com. It's a fantastic website with amazing photographs that are added daily. I went to try to find a picture to start my poetry project, but I found so many that I think I can decorate the rest of our apartment with them. I've always loved using photographs as inspiration for my writing. All of my poetry came from pictures at the Beach Museum, or the Strecker-Nelson gallery in Manhattan. It makes me want to actually do something with my camera, and make the photos more personal, but then I think that maybe my talent lies in writing something based on a photographer's vision. Who knows. I could just be lazy. But it's been a wonderful day, roaming around the many pages of deviantART. If you get some time, I suggest checking it out.

Also today I finally customized my homepage. I know, quite productive. The good news is that I'm plugged into a poetry network so I can get fresh ideas and poems each day, just by opening Mozilla. The internet is beautiful. I liked this one quite a bit. It's how I've been feeling lately.

Blues- Elizabeth Alexander

I am lazy, the laziest
girl in the world. I sleep during
the day when I want to, ’til
my face is creased and swollen,
’til my lips are dry and hot. I
eat as I please: cookies and milk
after lunch, butter and sour cream
on my baked potato, foods that
slothful people eat, that turn
yellow and opaque beneath the skin.
Sometimes come dinnertime Sunday
I am still in my nightgown, the one
with the lace trim listing because
I have not mended it. Many days
I do not exercise, only
consider it, then rub my curdy
belly and lie down. Even
my poems are lazy. I use
syllabics instead of iambs,
prefer slant to the gong of full rhyme,
write briefly while others go
for pages. And yesterday,
for example, I did not work at all!
I got in my car and I drove
to factory outlet stores, purchased
stockings and panties and socks
with my father’s money.
To think, in childhood I missed only
one day of school per year. I went
to ballet class four days a week
at four-forty-five and on
Saturdays, beginning always
with plie, ending with curtsy.
To think, I knew only industry,
the industry of my race
and of immigrants, the radio
tuned always to the station
that said, Line up your summer
job months in advance. Work hard
and do not shame your family,
who worked hard to give you what you have.
There is no sin but sloth. Burn
to a wick and keep moving.
I avoided sleep for years,
up at night replaying
evening news stories about
nearby jailbreaks, fat people
who ate fried chicken and woke up
dead. In sleep I am looking
for poems in the shape of open
V’s of birds flying in formation,
or open arms saying, I forgive you, all.

Olive juice

These are my new roomies. Well, Beau doesn't technically live there, but he's an honorary roommate. And he doesn't use our shower, so he's even a welcome house guest. Hailey tried her first triathlon last weekend and they bought these cool helmets for the cause. She didn't finish because she wrecked her bike, but now they're training for a marathon. I don't know how I end up living with these people. It has not deterred me from my jalapeno chip diet.



This is my new friend Kristin Smith. She's Rachael's hometown bff, which makes her my honorary bff. We're both going to be in Rachael's wedding. I'm guessing that Rachael gets engaged in the next month. But I'm bad luck, so I'm just happy that they're still together. Oh, and Kristin is super cool. She has an affinity for Joe Vossen as well.



These are the old school and the new school Manhattan best friends. Rachael is my undergrad best friend, and Amanda is my big kid best friend. She is now an Admissions Rep for K-State and has a job with health benefits. She even has to wear panty hose to work every day. But still, she gets dressed up to go out and she looks like a sixth grader. This is why I love her. Also, she dates people with weird names. Like Ronald, Walter, Bud, and Henry.




This is why Rachael and I are best friends. Her roommate has this fancy Pampered Chef can opener that we could not for the life of us figure out. After twenty minutes we called her roommate and tried to get instructions over the phone. After fifteen more minutes and a very bent can top, we found an old rusty can opener and pried it open with our fingers. This is why we can't have nice things. Who would've thought that there was another person out there who was unable to open a can? This is why best friends are such blessings. It's the olive juice moments.

I spent the last five days in Manhattan. But if anyone runs into Jenny Regier, I spent the last six days in Manhattan, without email access. Thanks for playing along.

So I went to Manhattan and had a wonderful time. Maybe it's because it's the summer and my friends don't have a million club/school/job/greek commitments, but a group of us got together every night and had a great time. I came home today feeling really happy, the happiest I've felt in a long time. I spent the majority of last year wondering if I would ever make friends, and now, after being away a month and getting some perspective, I've realized that they've been there all along. I think that I will continually look back on this summer and find out just how beneficial it has been.

But anyway, we had a splendid time. Friday night we went to McAlister's for dinner, and then the big kids went to Aggieville for drinks. Poor Amanda is not adjusting to Manhattan bars after being in Italy for six weeks. Then Saturday Rachael and I blew off the wedding and had a lounge day full of macaroni and cheese and season one of The Office. Rachael had not been introduced to the employees of Dunder Mifflin, aka, my favorite fictional friends. Nothing gives me greater joy than to introduce The Office to someone new. I've even got Hailey and Beau hooked because there was nothing else for them to watch over lunch. I feel like I'm a messenger of joy, in a way.

Then, Saturday night we were supposed to go the jazz festival, but of course there was a mini microburst right over the park which ruined both of the sound boards an hour before we were supposed to go. So after standing in the Delta Sig parking lot for about 45 minutes, we caught some other disappointed jazz festers and went to dinner. Saturday night was full of Apples to Apples and a new friend was made, so definitely a success. Everyone Derek knows is funny. How can that be?

Sunday I slept for a long time, comforted Hailey when she got back from the triathlon (she didn't finish because she wrecked her bike and the chain broke. It was not fun) and had dinner and drinks with Eddie. Then, I am ashamed to admit it, I watched "Stomp the Yard" with Rachael and her sister and didn't hate it as much as I should've. At least I didn't get sucked in to watching "Material Girls."

Monday was a productive day, and I got to finally hear all of Amanda's Italy stories. All of my friends are either getting back from studying abroad or leaving to study, and I feel so blessed to live vicariously through them. The plan is to be crazy thrifty this year and go to Europe next summer before grad school. If you see me spending money, please stop me. She had an amazing time and came back a much more relaxed person, which will be good now that she is an AR. Half of my friends are also getting big kid jobs, or getting engaged, or going ring shopping. I know that I should be used to it, but it's still weird to talk realistically about wedding colors.

Tuesday was the BBQ, which was amazing, and further proof that this is going to be the best year yet. We have an awesome tailgating group lined up, and Rachael's house is the perfect location. I'm really excited to make the most of this last year.

It's nice to be back, but it was so good to be in Manhattan. School starts in a month and two days, but I don't have anything to do in the meantime. I hope you are all enjoying the last few weeks of your summer as well!

Just for you, BIL

Today, Matthew, Abby and I went to see the new Harry Potter movie. We all hated it. And yet, it's getting great reviews. I don't think it stands on its own. Not as a story, or a movie, or anything, really. So why the positive reviews? I understand that it has to be cut down, because it is a beast of a book. I can even handle some of the changes that eliminate unnecessary extra characters. But to me, it felt too rushed, too incomplete, too different, and too dark. Don't people watch the movies to see Ron and Hermione make funny comments and fight with each other? Don't people want to see all of the magic that goes on in Hogwarts instead of the dark and dangerous?

Perhaps I have just fallen into the very common trap of getting too excited about a movie. But who goes to a movie on a whim? You pay the money because it's something that you're really excited to see. So excited, that by the time you get there, you are ultimately disappointed because nothing could possibly reach the great level of expectation that you had.

It's frustrating.

But at least we had lunch afterward, and I found out that Matthew has a crush on Hermione.

Summer tunes

One of the many things that I enjoy about driving to Manhattan and back is the opportunity to make a new cd. Unlike my peers, I still operate in the mixed cd and tape adaptor world of car stereos. After extensive myspace research and internet stalking, I have assembled my summer mix for 2007. Are we listening to the same people? Are there people that I should be listening to? Share the wealth and let me know who I should be tuning in to. I've been reduced to adding Zach Braff as a friend on myspace, just so I can check his profile to see what song he has currently uploaded. It's a sad state. But I have him to thank for the discovery of Priscilla Ahn, Schuyler Fisk, and Colbie Caillat. Well, him and the Hotel Cafe tour. Anyway, here's the list.

Summer Mix 2007

Realize- Colbie Caillat
Suzie Blue- Ben Harper
Thinking of You- Molly Jenson
Turpentine- Brandi Carlile
Die Alone- Ingrid Michaelson
The Little Things- Colbie Caillat
Going Home- MoZella
Hey There Delilah- Plain White T's
Rain- Patty Griffin
Tennessee- The Wreckers
The Hat- Ingrid Michaelson
The Ghost of Corporate Future- Regina Spektor
I Don't Think So- Priscilla Ahn
Far Away- Ingrid Michaelson
Simple as it Should Be- Tristan Prettyman
Blessed- Brett Dennen
Run- Snow Patrol
Bubbly- Colbie Caillat
Replay- Maria Taylor
Are We Different- Priscilla Ahn
Cigarettes- The Wreckers
Rowing Song- Patty Griffin
And You Were- Molly Jenson

Here we go again

The word on the street is that all the cool kids are on blogger. And now that all of my readers are officially on blogger, I decided to finally join the party. So raise your glass to blog three, which will hopefully contain less relationship pondering and more creative writing. We'll see.

So to begin and conclude, here's a poem that I found while digging through my first blog. Enjoy.

Untitled- heard on Def Jam back in 2003

"I want a love like,
Me thinking of you thinking of me thinking of you type love, or
Me telling my friends more than I've ever admitted to myself about how I feel about you type love, or
Hating how jealous you are but loving how much you want me all to yourself type love, or
Seeing how your first name just sounds so good next to my last name and,
I wanted to see how far I could get without calling you and I barely made it out of my garage.

See, I want a love that makes me wait until she's asleep and then wonder if she's dreaming about us being in love type love, or
Who loves the other more, or
What she's doing at this exact moment, or
Slow-dancing in the middle of our apartment to the music of our hearts, and,
I love not knowing where this love is headed type love, and check this:

I wanna place those little post-it notes all around the house so she never forgets how much I love her type love, and
Not have enough ink in my pen to write all the love I have about her and,
Hope I make her feel as good as she makes me feel, and
I wanna deal with my friends making fun of me the same way I made fun of them when they went through the same kinda love type love,

Only difference is, this is one of those real love type loves
And just like in high school, I wanna spend hours on the phone not saying anything, and then fall asleep, and then wake up with her right next to me!
And, smell her all up in my covers type love, and
I wanna try counting the ways I love her and then lose count in the middle just so I have to start all over again, and

I wanna celebrate one of those "one month anniversaries", even though they ain't REALLY anniversaries, but doing it just 'cuz it makes her happy type love, and
Check this:

I wanna fall in love with the melody the phone plays when her numbers dial in type love, and
Talk to you until I lose my breath,
She leaves me breathless, but with the expanding of my lungs I,
Inhale all of her back in to me.
I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan to somethin that allows me to talk to her longer cuz, in all honesty,
I wanna avoid one of them "high cell-phone bill" type loves, and

I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are,
I mean the lines of my hands don't give me enough time to love you as much as I'd like to type love, and
I want a love that makes me st-st-stutter just thinking about how strong this love is type love, and
I want a love that makes me wanna cut off all my hair.

Well, well maybe not ALL of the hair, maybe I cut the split-ends and trim my mustache but it would still be a symbol of how strong my love is for her, and

I kinda feel comfortable now, so
I even be fantasizing about walking out on a green light just dying to get hit by a car just so I could lose my memory, get transported to some third world country just to get treated and then, somehow meet up with you and fall in love with you in a different language just to see if it still feels the same type love.

I want a love that's as unexplainable as she is.
But I'm married, so...she's gonna be the one I share this love with."