I met this fabulous family and I just can't get enough of them. I find my car driving to their house more and more often. And we talk for hours. Only to talk for more hours the next time I pop by. I love them. The end.
Goodnight, dear void.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
If Only To See the Stars
If you cry because the sun has gone out of your life, your tears will prevent you from seeing the stars.
- Rabindranath Tagore
Courage doesn't always roar.
Sometimes courage is the quiet voice
at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."
- Mary Anne Radmacher
Earth laughs in flowers.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
- Rabindranath Tagore
Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.
- Confucius
Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.
- John Lennon
Life is without meaning.
You bring the meaning to it.
The meaning of life is whatever you ascribe it to be.
Being alive is the meaning.
- Joseph Campbell
Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...
It's about learning how to dance in the rain.
- Vivian Greene
Happiness depends upon ourselves.
- Aristotle
We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned,
so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.
- Joseph Campbell
Life may not be the party we hoped for,
but while we are here we might as well dance.
- Anonymous
Today I feel like a complete and utter failure in all aspects of my life. But then I think of all the obstacles that I have overcome to get to this place and see that I have made huge strides in a forward direction and breathe again knowing that while my life is still nowhere near perfect, it is also nowhere near failure; tonight that is enough.
Goodnight, dear void.
- Rabindranath Tagore
Courage doesn't always roar.
Sometimes courage is the quiet voice
at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."
- Mary Anne Radmacher
Earth laughs in flowers.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
- Rabindranath Tagore
Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.
- Confucius
Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.
- John Lennon
Life is without meaning.
You bring the meaning to it.
The meaning of life is whatever you ascribe it to be.
Being alive is the meaning.
- Joseph Campbell
Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...
It's about learning how to dance in the rain.
- Vivian Greene
Happiness depends upon ourselves.
- Aristotle
We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned,
so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.
- Joseph Campbell
Life may not be the party we hoped for,
but while we are here we might as well dance.
- Anonymous
Today I feel like a complete and utter failure in all aspects of my life. But then I think of all the obstacles that I have overcome to get to this place and see that I have made huge strides in a forward direction and breathe again knowing that while my life is still nowhere near perfect, it is also nowhere near failure; tonight that is enough.
Goodnight, dear void.
Friday, September 23, 2011
53 and Main
How is it that there is still so much to do when I've already done so much? Man, I swear, no matter how many hours I spend on this, it is never going to be enough; there will always be more to do. Bah! Man, I am exhausted. When was the last time I got a good night's sleep? I can't think straight these days. Is it just me or is there too much hazelnut in this hot chocolate. Just my luck, in the middle of the busiest month of my life I can't even get my hot chocolate right. Come on, can't just one thing in my life go right? Ugh.
"Mam?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like another cocoa? Not that it is any of my business, but you come in here every day, order hot cocoa and nothing else, would you like something to eat? You seem very distracted and extremely overworked, might I suggest taking just a moment for yourself and try our chicken cordon bleu? I think it might really give you the edge you seem to be looking for?"
Who is this guy? And why is he so concerned with my hot chocolate intake habits? So what if I come here every day and drink only hot chocolate? What's it to ya? They are my calories, I will spend them how I like. And besides, I tip you very well for each of those hot chocolates, thank you very much.... Sir. Can you hear yourself, get a grip.
"I appreciate very much your interest in the matter, I am actually on my way out today though, just the check would be fine, thank you....Ranaldo."
"As you wish, Madame."
I really do need to start sleeping again, I'm starting to get snippity with people.
"There you are. You're sure there isn't anything else I can do for you today?"
"Not today, Ranaldo. But as always, thank you. I will see you tomorrow."
"But of course. Enjoy your day."
"You as well."
Since when did Ranaldo start talking to customers? He used to be so quiet and reserved. I wonder what changed.
"Hello? Yes, this is she. No, I did not order chrysanthemums, I ordered lilies. No. Yes. White. Pink. Fine, just get it done. Thank you."
My tooth is acting up again; I really need to find time to get into that dentist. I didn't really like him last time though. I think he messed up my teeth alignment. Plus, he left me in that room alone for at least twenty minutes. I nearly feel asleep by the time he finally came back to finish up. Not nearly, I did fall asleep. Who does that to a patient? I don't want to have to find another one though. Who does that?? Breath. Let it go. It doesn't really matter.
"Mom? What is it? Is everything okay? No, I haven't heard from her. I told you, we had a falling out last month and we haven't spoken to each other since. Fine, I will give her a call at the end of the week and check up on her. Yes, I know. Just because I should be the bigger person doesn't mean I am going to be. I will call her. Stop hounding me. Thank you. It was good talking to you, too. Uh huh. Bye."
How do mothers seem to know everything going on in everyone'e live anyways? Shelly and I haven't spoken or communicated in any form for over a month and I certainly am not going to be the one to break the trend. It's not my fault we're in the mess. Whatever, it's not worth my time to think about anyway. Good thing I started Yoga again this fall, otherwise my stress level would be through the roof. As is, I could probably use a little more; maybe I'll pick up another session or two. I wouldn't mind seeing Hannah more often anyway.
"Any messages while I was out, Sandy? I talked to her on my way over. Yes, I know she thinks I should call Shelly, thank you. Oh really, get them on the line, I will take it in my office. Thank you!"
"Yes, thank you for taking my call. I apologize for not being out of the office earlier. Yes, I do have those numbers for you. Are you sure you wanted to stick with that color scheme? I was thinking we might want to look into more of a summer pallet, but I am open to other options as well. Yes, that sounds great. Thank you for you time. I am looking forward to it. Yes. Chao."
"Sandy, will you confirm my dinner reservations for this Saturday night? I need everything to be perfect. Robert and I haven't had a weekend to ourselves in quite some time and I really want to make the most of it. Oh and would mind seeing if the ballet is still running? Othello I think. Thank you."
Okay, almost all done here. Just a few more... done! Man, I might be worried if I wasn't so gosh darn good at what I do! I am fabulous! Now, time for one more finishing touch and I'm outta here! That's a wrap - going home time.
"Sandy, will you call me a cab please? Then you're free to leave. Thank you."
Someday I am going to figure out the bus system, I swear. Or not. I really do love taxis. Meh.
I wonder if Robert will be happy with our weekend holiday in the city. He's seemed so uptight these days, I just want to help him relax a little. And I think we could both use some time to let our hair down.
"53 and main please."
"Mam?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like another cocoa? Not that it is any of my business, but you come in here every day, order hot cocoa and nothing else, would you like something to eat? You seem very distracted and extremely overworked, might I suggest taking just a moment for yourself and try our chicken cordon bleu? I think it might really give you the edge you seem to be looking for?"
Who is this guy? And why is he so concerned with my hot chocolate intake habits? So what if I come here every day and drink only hot chocolate? What's it to ya? They are my calories, I will spend them how I like. And besides, I tip you very well for each of those hot chocolates, thank you very much.... Sir. Can you hear yourself, get a grip.
"I appreciate very much your interest in the matter, I am actually on my way out today though, just the check would be fine, thank you....Ranaldo."
"As you wish, Madame."
I really do need to start sleeping again, I'm starting to get snippity with people.
"There you are. You're sure there isn't anything else I can do for you today?"
"Not today, Ranaldo. But as always, thank you. I will see you tomorrow."
"But of course. Enjoy your day."
"You as well."
Since when did Ranaldo start talking to customers? He used to be so quiet and reserved. I wonder what changed.
"Hello? Yes, this is she. No, I did not order chrysanthemums, I ordered lilies. No. Yes. White. Pink. Fine, just get it done. Thank you."
My tooth is acting up again; I really need to find time to get into that dentist. I didn't really like him last time though. I think he messed up my teeth alignment. Plus, he left me in that room alone for at least twenty minutes. I nearly feel asleep by the time he finally came back to finish up. Not nearly, I did fall asleep. Who does that to a patient? I don't want to have to find another one though. Who does that?? Breath. Let it go. It doesn't really matter.
"Mom? What is it? Is everything okay? No, I haven't heard from her. I told you, we had a falling out last month and we haven't spoken to each other since. Fine, I will give her a call at the end of the week and check up on her. Yes, I know. Just because I should be the bigger person doesn't mean I am going to be. I will call her. Stop hounding me. Thank you. It was good talking to you, too. Uh huh. Bye."
How do mothers seem to know everything going on in everyone'e live anyways? Shelly and I haven't spoken or communicated in any form for over a month and I certainly am not going to be the one to break the trend. It's not my fault we're in the mess. Whatever, it's not worth my time to think about anyway. Good thing I started Yoga again this fall, otherwise my stress level would be through the roof. As is, I could probably use a little more; maybe I'll pick up another session or two. I wouldn't mind seeing Hannah more often anyway.
"Any messages while I was out, Sandy? I talked to her on my way over. Yes, I know she thinks I should call Shelly, thank you. Oh really, get them on the line, I will take it in my office. Thank you!"
"Yes, thank you for taking my call. I apologize for not being out of the office earlier. Yes, I do have those numbers for you. Are you sure you wanted to stick with that color scheme? I was thinking we might want to look into more of a summer pallet, but I am open to other options as well. Yes, that sounds great. Thank you for you time. I am looking forward to it. Yes. Chao."
"Sandy, will you confirm my dinner reservations for this Saturday night? I need everything to be perfect. Robert and I haven't had a weekend to ourselves in quite some time and I really want to make the most of it. Oh and would mind seeing if the ballet is still running? Othello I think. Thank you."
Okay, almost all done here. Just a few more... done! Man, I might be worried if I wasn't so gosh darn good at what I do! I am fabulous! Now, time for one more finishing touch and I'm outta here! That's a wrap - going home time.
"Sandy, will you call me a cab please? Then you're free to leave. Thank you."
Someday I am going to figure out the bus system, I swear. Or not. I really do love taxis. Meh.
I wonder if Robert will be happy with our weekend holiday in the city. He's seemed so uptight these days, I just want to help him relax a little. And I think we could both use some time to let our hair down.
"53 and main please."
Monday, September 5, 2011
My Hat
What does it mean to be extraordinary?
We all have people in our lives who we think are extraordinary.
And we would give anything to be like them.
Ask them and they would say they were average at best, maybe even below that.
Is that what makes them so much more than average?
Their complete and utter inability to see how extremely unaverage they really are?
Or is it the way they just keep caring, even when you don't deserve it?
Or how they always seem to show just how much they care about you when you least expect it and need it the most?
They dazzle the world by their mere existence within it.
And if you have the privilege of knowing them, you are better for it.
Because they teach you how to smile even when things are falling apart.
And they ask you what's inside the tweety lunchbox not because they care, but because they know that for some bizarre reason, it's important to you.
They listen to your problems and offer a shoulder when the tears start to fall, even when they know that there is no way for them to fix it.
But above all else, these extraordinary people in our lives, they love us - despite weakness, regardless of flaws. They see us not for who we are, but rather for who we can be.
And they inspire us to be... extraordinary.
I am grateful for the extraordinary people in my life, who make me want to be the beauty I see in them.
You have shaped my life and are molding my future.
I tip my hat to you.
Thank you.
Goodnight, dear void.
We all have people in our lives who we think are extraordinary.
And we would give anything to be like them.
Ask them and they would say they were average at best, maybe even below that.
Is that what makes them so much more than average?
Their complete and utter inability to see how extremely unaverage they really are?
Or is it the way they just keep caring, even when you don't deserve it?
Or how they always seem to show just how much they care about you when you least expect it and need it the most?
They dazzle the world by their mere existence within it.
And if you have the privilege of knowing them, you are better for it.
Because they teach you how to smile even when things are falling apart.
And they ask you what's inside the tweety lunchbox not because they care, but because they know that for some bizarre reason, it's important to you.
They listen to your problems and offer a shoulder when the tears start to fall, even when they know that there is no way for them to fix it.
But above all else, these extraordinary people in our lives, they love us - despite weakness, regardless of flaws. They see us not for who we are, but rather for who we can be.
And they inspire us to be... extraordinary.
I am grateful for the extraordinary people in my life, who make me want to be the beauty I see in them.
You have shaped my life and are molding my future.
I tip my hat to you.
Thank you.
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
If you scream at the Universe, will it respond?
He wrapped his arms around Kelly, looking out over the lake that stretched for miles in front of them.
"You scared me. How long have you been standing there? What are you doing here anyway? I thought you hated coming out here."
"I thought it was time."
The sun was rising in beautiful oranges and pinks. They stood and watched the sun fill the lake with beauty and wonder. It must have been an hour at least before he broke the silence, "You okay? How do you feel about pancakes for breakfast? And maybe a fruit smoothie? I know you're trying to keep things healthy. Kell?" He turned her around in his arms so he could see her tear streaked face. Wrapping his arms ever tighter around her, he whispered, "It's going to be okay. I promise. We will find a way to make this better. We will make it through this. We will." As he held her, he felt her body relax into his; he could feel her tears seep through his button-up shirt, and he let a tear streak down his face as well.
How? How were they ever going to put this behind them. You were supposed to bear children, not bury them. How were things ever supposed to go back to normal? What was normal anymore? Jackie and Noah had been staying with their grandparents this past month but they were scheduled to come home next week. And then what? He would have to go back to the office, but how could he? Kelly would have too much time on her hands with both the kids in school and no Spencer to keep her busy and running non-stop.
Spencer. He felt the lump rise in his throat; how was it possible to still have any tears left?
The funeral had been three weeks ago - where had all that time gone? He and Kelly had spent most of those days and nights in silence, each dealing with the grief as best as they could. Why had this happened to them? He knew he shouldn't ask such a question because the universe was willingly questioned but seldom as willing to deign anyone with a response. Yet, he could not help wondering it nonetheless and at times he couldn't stop himself from screaming it at the top of his lungs, "HEY YOU, UP THERE, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? WHAT COULD I POSSIBLY HAVE DONE? I'M SORRY! I AM SO SORRY!!!"
He never got the Universe to respond directly, but slowly he began to see that maybe this was just the way the universe was run, maybe it really had very little to do with his past and so much more to do with his future.
"You scared me. How long have you been standing there? What are you doing here anyway? I thought you hated coming out here."
"I thought it was time."
The sun was rising in beautiful oranges and pinks. They stood and watched the sun fill the lake with beauty and wonder. It must have been an hour at least before he broke the silence, "You okay? How do you feel about pancakes for breakfast? And maybe a fruit smoothie? I know you're trying to keep things healthy. Kell?" He turned her around in his arms so he could see her tear streaked face. Wrapping his arms ever tighter around her, he whispered, "It's going to be okay. I promise. We will find a way to make this better. We will make it through this. We will." As he held her, he felt her body relax into his; he could feel her tears seep through his button-up shirt, and he let a tear streak down his face as well.
How? How were they ever going to put this behind them. You were supposed to bear children, not bury them. How were things ever supposed to go back to normal? What was normal anymore? Jackie and Noah had been staying with their grandparents this past month but they were scheduled to come home next week. And then what? He would have to go back to the office, but how could he? Kelly would have too much time on her hands with both the kids in school and no Spencer to keep her busy and running non-stop.
Spencer. He felt the lump rise in his throat; how was it possible to still have any tears left?
The funeral had been three weeks ago - where had all that time gone? He and Kelly had spent most of those days and nights in silence, each dealing with the grief as best as they could. Why had this happened to them? He knew he shouldn't ask such a question because the universe was willingly questioned but seldom as willing to deign anyone with a response. Yet, he could not help wondering it nonetheless and at times he couldn't stop himself from screaming it at the top of his lungs, "HEY YOU, UP THERE, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? WHAT COULD I POSSIBLY HAVE DONE? I'M SORRY! I AM SO SORRY!!!"
He never got the Universe to respond directly, but slowly he began to see that maybe this was just the way the universe was run, maybe it really had very little to do with his past and so much more to do with his future.
An Exhausting Exhileration
What was it about those mountains that made her want to set out for the horizon and just keep going until she found whatever it was that she was looking for? In a way the mountains represented all the potential she could feel within herself. She knew she was better than this. She could feel it in every fiber of her being; this girl, that was not who she really was. This girl was who she settled for being from day to day because she didn't know just how to tap into her internal potential and change for real. She'd tried to change before, of course, but it had never stuck, not really. And she could feel the real her under her skin, underneath all of that other stuff that always held her back. The real her was beyond those mountains somewhere where only the sunrise would know her name. She woke up every morning feeling like a stranger in that skin. Until the morning she decided it was time to stop looking at the mountains, it was time to become one. And she changed. It wasn't easy and it didn't happen over night, but every day she worked endlessly to become the girl she knew she really was; the one who didn't have to hide behind that same old frame and shape, but the one who was free to do anything and to be anything she wanted to do and be. It made every day an exhausting exhilaration; becoming is harder than it looks.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
My Playground
I watched A League of Their Own tonight, as in I caught the last part of it on AMC.
It made me miss my sisters. And then my Grandma.
We used to watch that movie as sisters every time we stayed at Grandma and Grandpa's on vacation.
In a frenzy to find Sister Perkins' Portugal address I ran across the card Grandma sent me for my birthday this year.
I got the card in the mail a good week or so before my birthday. I'd opened all my other cards and presents as soon as I'd received them - living alone renders almost all holidays (even birthdays)almost meaningless in terms of the specific day they are celebrated - but for some reason I'd felt that I really should wait and open the Grandparent's card on my actual birthday so it was fresh when they called to sing Happy Birthday to me. There were several times I almost opened it, but kept waiting instead.
I'd spent the night at Mari's place so as not to wake up alone on my 21st birthday - that just seemed sad and wrong for such a wonderous day in a girl's life.
I'd left my phone upstairs because I thought it was going to die, so I didn't get their calls.
Finally Kaylee called Mari's phone to see if she could reach me through her. She said 'happy birthday' and said that Mom and Dad had been trying to reach me all morning. They would likely be calling shortly now that they knew how to get ahold of me.
Mom called. She wished me happy birthday. Then told me that Grandpa had not been able to wake Grandma that morning and that she had likely passed away sometime during the night. She was crying. I hardly knew how to process it all.
Ryan called next, telling me that he had Cami already and he was coming to get me so we could all go somewhere to eat and be together.
Ryan paid for us.
We decided to have dinner together that night, for my birthday, and in honor of Grandma.
Driving home that day from Mari's all I could think about was that unopened birthday card - the last thing I would ever receive from my Grandmother in this life.
It was so hard to open it, let alone to read it.
Outside: Could a granddaughter be any sweeter, cuter, or nicer?
Inside: Not a chance!
Happy Birthday
And then in her own hand: Stay happy and wonderful! We love you and are so happy you are close. Keep that sparkle in your eyes and the smile on your lips!
Love, Grandma and Grandpa Bishop
I remember so many times that day just breaking down and sobbing. Often sliding to the floor wherever I was.
I am grateful to this day that I'd left that card unopened so I could have one last special memory with my Grandma on my birthday.
I still miss her everyday and can't help looking for her sometimes when I go to visit Grandpa.
I still kick myself for not calling to say thank you sooner.
And because my plan for my birthday, was to see her.
I love you, Grandma. You are everything I hope to one day be. Thank you for all the birthday cards, calls, and money. I'm sorry I probably never said it enough, but they meant the world to me. Thank you for all the creamies and orange soda, for all the games you played, and the hugs you gave. You were a one of a kind woman. Thank you for always taking the time to show me you loved me. One of my most treasured memories was when you and Grandpa insisted on taking me to dinner when I came up to see you nearly a year ago now. It was such a special time for just the three of us to be together, and it will stay in my heart forever. Most of all, thank you for raising my mother. She is so like you. You taught her how to laugh and how to love; she will carry your legacy with her for all time.
I can't wait to see you on the other side. Save me a seat.
Your granddaughter,
Abby
Goodnight, dear void.
This used to be my playground.
This used to be my childhood dream.
This used to be the place I ran to
whenever I was in need
of a friend
It made me miss my sisters. And then my Grandma.
We used to watch that movie as sisters every time we stayed at Grandma and Grandpa's on vacation.
In a frenzy to find Sister Perkins' Portugal address I ran across the card Grandma sent me for my birthday this year.
I got the card in the mail a good week or so before my birthday. I'd opened all my other cards and presents as soon as I'd received them - living alone renders almost all holidays (even birthdays)almost meaningless in terms of the specific day they are celebrated - but for some reason I'd felt that I really should wait and open the Grandparent's card on my actual birthday so it was fresh when they called to sing Happy Birthday to me. There were several times I almost opened it, but kept waiting instead.
I'd spent the night at Mari's place so as not to wake up alone on my 21st birthday - that just seemed sad and wrong for such a wonderous day in a girl's life.
I'd left my phone upstairs because I thought it was going to die, so I didn't get their calls.
Finally Kaylee called Mari's phone to see if she could reach me through her. She said 'happy birthday' and said that Mom and Dad had been trying to reach me all morning. They would likely be calling shortly now that they knew how to get ahold of me.
Mom called. She wished me happy birthday. Then told me that Grandpa had not been able to wake Grandma that morning and that she had likely passed away sometime during the night. She was crying. I hardly knew how to process it all.
Ryan called next, telling me that he had Cami already and he was coming to get me so we could all go somewhere to eat and be together.
Ryan paid for us.
We decided to have dinner together that night, for my birthday, and in honor of Grandma.
Driving home that day from Mari's all I could think about was that unopened birthday card - the last thing I would ever receive from my Grandmother in this life.
It was so hard to open it, let alone to read it.
Outside: Could a granddaughter be any sweeter, cuter, or nicer?
Inside: Not a chance!
Happy Birthday
And then in her own hand: Stay happy and wonderful! We love you and are so happy you are close. Keep that sparkle in your eyes and the smile on your lips!
Love, Grandma and Grandpa Bishop
I remember so many times that day just breaking down and sobbing. Often sliding to the floor wherever I was.
I am grateful to this day that I'd left that card unopened so I could have one last special memory with my Grandma on my birthday.
I still miss her everyday and can't help looking for her sometimes when I go to visit Grandpa.
I still kick myself for not calling to say thank you sooner.
And because my plan for my birthday, was to see her.
I love you, Grandma. You are everything I hope to one day be. Thank you for all the birthday cards, calls, and money. I'm sorry I probably never said it enough, but they meant the world to me. Thank you for all the creamies and orange soda, for all the games you played, and the hugs you gave. You were a one of a kind woman. Thank you for always taking the time to show me you loved me. One of my most treasured memories was when you and Grandpa insisted on taking me to dinner when I came up to see you nearly a year ago now. It was such a special time for just the three of us to be together, and it will stay in my heart forever. Most of all, thank you for raising my mother. She is so like you. You taught her how to laugh and how to love; she will carry your legacy with her for all time.
I can't wait to see you on the other side. Save me a seat.
Your granddaughter,
Abby
Goodnight, dear void.
This used to be my playground.
This used to be my childhood dream.
This used to be the place I ran to
whenever I was in need
of a friend
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Once Upon a Library
I got a library card today.
I walked in with a proof of address and my ID, filled out an application, and picked out a card design,
- a green dinosaur running next to a volcano in the desert while grinning and reading a red book - and then it was done.
And somehow, the world seems a brighter place indeed.
As I walked in I had a rush of memories from the libraries of my past.
I remember being very little and reading in a cage(...?) in the library in St. Charles. I loved the picture books I would discover there.
I grew a little older and we moved to Cortland where the small Community Library was a safe haven of adventure and wonder. I would go there after school to hang out with my friends
and chat with them on AOL even though they were right next to me. Ya, we were cool.
Even bigger and cooler was the Dekalb Public Library where we would enroll in summer reading programs to get all sorts of cool prizes. It was so huge. I only ever used the bottom floor... I can't even imagine what else they have to offer there that is not filled with pictures or the Bailey School Kids' adventures!
I'm so excited to make new library memories. As far as I know, there is not cage in this new library, but I suppose it wouldn't really be socially acceptable for me and my 21 year old self to crawl into a reading cage anyway, so maybe it's going to be okay.
Goodnight, dear void.
I walked in with a proof of address and my ID, filled out an application, and picked out a card design,
- a green dinosaur running next to a volcano in the desert while grinning and reading a red book - and then it was done.
And somehow, the world seems a brighter place indeed.
As I walked in I had a rush of memories from the libraries of my past.
and chat with them on AOL even though they were right next to me. Ya, we were cool.
I'm so excited to make new library memories. As far as I know, there is not cage in this new library, but I suppose it wouldn't really be socially acceptable for me and my 21 year old self to crawl into a reading cage anyway, so maybe it's going to be okay.
Goodnight, dear void.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Oh, Just a Roll
I learned to drive in a minivan - a blue 2001 Ford Windstar.
It wouldn't be until much later that he would get his name, USS Old Blue, but even then he was something special.
We traded in our giant Expedition when my brother went on a church mission to Chili and drove home to Illinois in Old Blue - our first cross country trip with him starting right off the bat (talk about hazing).
And that was it, Old Blue went with us everywhere we could imagine to go from then on. He drove and drove for miles and miles across the country to Utah and back home to Illinois again. Then down to Galveston, Texas and over to New York City, Niagra Falls and Ontario, until he dropped us back off at 1807 Ottawa St, Cortland, IL 60112.He would also take us to Yellowstone and the Tetons while we went camping on Kaylee's Senior trip, not to mention so many more trips to Virginia to drop Cami off at school and then later to watch her graduate, meanwhile also doing the menial trips in comparison to the stake center, temple, seminary, and school. He was a dream come true.
When I started to drive, my family had at that point added a little white mustang to the ranks. It was rusty when it came to driving to say the least, and would make the most horrid sounds at times when it decided to throw a fit. I would learn to love my 'baby girl' later on. But as a timid 15 year old girl, Old Blue was the smooth talking Son of a Gun who would calm me into getting behind the wheel on a regular basis.
It was in Old Blue that Dad took me driving on Airport Road the night before my first drive with my Driving Instructor. I was terrified and nearly drove us off the side of that country road several times. The speed limit was 55 and there was oncoming traffic like a steady fast-paced stream rushing towards us without letting up. I thought for certain that it was going to be the end of us. But Old Blue knew better.
It was also in Old Blue that I thought I would try out what I'd been learning in Driver's Ed by turning into the nearest available lane of traffic. With Mom in the front seat, I turned into the oncoming traffic's lane instead of my own. Mom screamed while Old Blue helped me seamlessly correct my course. I still laugh at the memory, though I'm not as sure that Mom found it all too humorous then... or now.
I eventually transitioned into the Mustang and she became my primary driving instrument until I moved to Hong Kong my senior year. The adventures Baby Girl and I went on together will be saved for another blogpost and time though.
Coming back from my year abroad, Kaylee had full ownership of Old Blue, and he was just biding his time before he and I could be fully reunited. He wouldn't share it openly, but I know my years with Baby Girl were not easy for him to watch. He was happy for me - and therefore us - to be sure, but nonetheless was even happier when he and I began sharing adventures once more.
So it came to be one creepy, late night that Mari, Old Blue, and I drove through Eureka in an attempt to find the Sand Dunes and all of our friends who we were supposed to be sharing the sunset with. I'm sure Eureka was not trying to be more creepy than usual, but Mari and I were beyond creeped out. As much as we could not find the Dunes and our friends, we did NOT want to go back to that 'town' to ask for directions. (I would like to pause here and beg the pardon of the townspeople of Eureka. We did not have the opportunity to have your pleasant homeland prove our perceived creepiness wrong, as I'm sure it would have.) Old Blue mustered something deep within him and nearly broke the warp speed barrier as he shot us from Eureka to the Sand Dunes in nearly no time at all. He had felt our fear growing and growing and would not let us become desolate and abandon hope on his watch. It is entirely possible that this near impossible feat was achieved partly as a result of the inner strength of Old Blue and partly because of the desperate prayer Mari and I had sent heavenward. Anyway you shift it, Old Blue was a factor and we are forever grateful.
I should probably at this point mention how Old Blue got his name and why he was so well versed in warp speed potentiality.
It was in this same summer that I submitted to grueling training under the tutelage of one Captain Kirk, of the USS Enterprise. As my grooming came to an end, he conferred a Captinhood upon myself and a United Space Shiphood upon Old Blue. As I took on the name of Captain Abby, Starship Old Blue became my companion through the space-time continuum. I had learned the ins and outs of running a crew and he had learned the ins and outs of warp drive and the universe itself it seemed. We soon left our old driving ways of the past where they belonged and took to flying at warp speeds heartily. We acquired a crew quickly enough, weeding through the hundreds of applicants in a timely manner so as to begin our space explorations as speedily as possible.
Our Crew was as follows:
Captain: Abby Yvonne Holyoak
Number One: NatAsha Lee Wallin
Helm Leader: Mari Katherin Cook
Medical Advisor: Sarah Beth Robishaw
Science Advisor: MacKenzie Ann Mayo
Beamer Upper: Annisija Kay Wallin
Vessel: USS Old Blue
We represent the best that Star Fleet Academy has to offer and from the moment we joined one another is space exploration have begun to change the universe one new frontier at a time.
Starship Old Blue has executed our missions flawlessly and has several times inspired song to burst forth from the crew as we have warped along.
A captain could not ask for a better vessel with which to explore the depths of space and mysteries of the universe.
Unfortunately all good things, must come to an end, even for a United Space Ship as faithful as Old Blue. He gave it his all. On this last mission I battled a dark and sinister evil. There were many moments I thought I might not make it back to my happy home one more time, but USS Old Blue pulled through again, and again. Despite all efforts in his behalf, the damage to his warp propulsion system has proved to be irreparable; I tried with all my might to restore him to his former, original glory. He has done so much for me, it would have been the least I could do for him in return. Alas, it was not to be so.
It is with immense sorrow in our separation and unspeakable joy in our magnanimous adventures that I bid him a final farewell. And most of all it is in his spectacular memory that I dedicate this post. We donated his body to science and to the Star Fleet Academy so he can serve his fellow space travelers one last time as a model and learning instrument for current and future students for many years to come. May you rest in peace, old friend; serving alongside you has been an honor.
Goodnight, dear void.
It wouldn't be until much later that he would get his name, USS Old Blue, but even then he was something special.
We traded in our giant Expedition when my brother went on a church mission to Chili and drove home to Illinois in Old Blue - our first cross country trip with him starting right off the bat (talk about hazing).
And that was it, Old Blue went with us everywhere we could imagine to go from then on. He drove and drove for miles and miles across the country to Utah and back home to Illinois again. Then down to Galveston, Texas and over to New York City, Niagra Falls and Ontario, until he dropped us back off at 1807 Ottawa St, Cortland, IL 60112.He would also take us to Yellowstone and the Tetons while we went camping on Kaylee's Senior trip, not to mention so many more trips to Virginia to drop Cami off at school and then later to watch her graduate, meanwhile also doing the menial trips in comparison to the stake center, temple, seminary, and school. He was a dream come true.
When I started to drive, my family had at that point added a little white mustang to the ranks. It was rusty when it came to driving to say the least, and would make the most horrid sounds at times when it decided to throw a fit. I would learn to love my 'baby girl' later on. But as a timid 15 year old girl, Old Blue was the smooth talking Son of a Gun who would calm me into getting behind the wheel on a regular basis.
It was in Old Blue that Dad took me driving on Airport Road the night before my first drive with my Driving Instructor. I was terrified and nearly drove us off the side of that country road several times. The speed limit was 55 and there was oncoming traffic like a steady fast-paced stream rushing towards us without letting up. I thought for certain that it was going to be the end of us. But Old Blue knew better.
It was also in Old Blue that I thought I would try out what I'd been learning in Driver's Ed by turning into the nearest available lane of traffic. With Mom in the front seat, I turned into the oncoming traffic's lane instead of my own. Mom screamed while Old Blue helped me seamlessly correct my course. I still laugh at the memory, though I'm not as sure that Mom found it all too humorous then... or now.
I eventually transitioned into the Mustang and she became my primary driving instrument until I moved to Hong Kong my senior year. The adventures Baby Girl and I went on together will be saved for another blogpost and time though.
Coming back from my year abroad, Kaylee had full ownership of Old Blue, and he was just biding his time before he and I could be fully reunited. He wouldn't share it openly, but I know my years with Baby Girl were not easy for him to watch. He was happy for me - and therefore us - to be sure, but nonetheless was even happier when he and I began sharing adventures once more.
So it came to be one creepy, late night that Mari, Old Blue, and I drove through Eureka in an attempt to find the Sand Dunes and all of our friends who we were supposed to be sharing the sunset with. I'm sure Eureka was not trying to be more creepy than usual, but Mari and I were beyond creeped out. As much as we could not find the Dunes and our friends, we did NOT want to go back to that 'town' to ask for directions. (I would like to pause here and beg the pardon of the townspeople of Eureka. We did not have the opportunity to have your pleasant homeland prove our perceived creepiness wrong, as I'm sure it would have.) Old Blue mustered something deep within him and nearly broke the warp speed barrier as he shot us from Eureka to the Sand Dunes in nearly no time at all. He had felt our fear growing and growing and would not let us become desolate and abandon hope on his watch. It is entirely possible that this near impossible feat was achieved partly as a result of the inner strength of Old Blue and partly because of the desperate prayer Mari and I had sent heavenward. Anyway you shift it, Old Blue was a factor and we are forever grateful.
I should probably at this point mention how Old Blue got his name and why he was so well versed in warp speed potentiality.
It was in this same summer that I submitted to grueling training under the tutelage of one Captain Kirk, of the USS Enterprise. As my grooming came to an end, he conferred a Captinhood upon myself and a United Space Shiphood upon Old Blue. As I took on the name of Captain Abby, Starship Old Blue became my companion through the space-time continuum. I had learned the ins and outs of running a crew and he had learned the ins and outs of warp drive and the universe itself it seemed. We soon left our old driving ways of the past where they belonged and took to flying at warp speeds heartily. We acquired a crew quickly enough, weeding through the hundreds of applicants in a timely manner so as to begin our space explorations as speedily as possible.
Our Crew was as follows:
Captain: Abby Yvonne Holyoak
Number One: NatAsha Lee Wallin
Helm Leader: Mari Katherin Cook
Medical Advisor: Sarah Beth Robishaw
Science Advisor: MacKenzie Ann Mayo
Beamer Upper: Annisija Kay Wallin
Vessel: USS Old Blue
We represent the best that Star Fleet Academy has to offer and from the moment we joined one another is space exploration have begun to change the universe one new frontier at a time.
Starship Old Blue has executed our missions flawlessly and has several times inspired song to burst forth from the crew as we have warped along.
A captain could not ask for a better vessel with which to explore the depths of space and mysteries of the universe.
Unfortunately all good things, must come to an end, even for a United Space Ship as faithful as Old Blue. He gave it his all. On this last mission I battled a dark and sinister evil. There were many moments I thought I might not make it back to my happy home one more time, but USS Old Blue pulled through again, and again. Despite all efforts in his behalf, the damage to his warp propulsion system has proved to be irreparable; I tried with all my might to restore him to his former, original glory. He has done so much for me, it would have been the least I could do for him in return. Alas, it was not to be so.
It is with immense sorrow in our separation and unspeakable joy in our magnanimous adventures that I bid him a final farewell. And most of all it is in his spectacular memory that I dedicate this post. We donated his body to science and to the Star Fleet Academy so he can serve his fellow space travelers one last time as a model and learning instrument for current and future students for many years to come. May you rest in peace, old friend; serving alongside you has been an honor.
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Maeror
Grief is such an interesting thing.
It manifests itself in so many ways.
And just when you think you've moved on and things are getting back to normal again, something happens - you see something, hear something, or a random memory pops into your head - and you're right back there at the beginning of it all.
Sometimes you break down into inconsolable tears.
Other times you laugh at memories until your abs hurt.
Sometimes you take solace in the rain.
Other times you decide just to take a drive and be apart of nature again.
Sometimes you find time to listen to other people's grief.
Other times you find time to write about your own.
And slowly, very slowly sometimes, the grief begins to lift yet one more time.
There is not telling when any given grief cycle has come to an end. In some ways I don't know that the cycle ever truly ends. More I believe that we learn more and more how to make the cycle last longer so as to not repeat it so often.
In the moment of our grief, there are often many other's to share the load of the grief with. With time it seems to isolate you and make you feel as though you are the only one left with pain or sorrow inside, though you are never truly on your own. Because if we're all alone in our grief, we're all together in it too (P.s. I Love You).
Grief can be debilitating; it can be empowering. It can hold you back; it can propel you forward.
And in beautiful anomaly, you determine how your grief determines you.
Goodnight, dear void.
It manifests itself in so many ways.
And just when you think you've moved on and things are getting back to normal again, something happens - you see something, hear something, or a random memory pops into your head - and you're right back there at the beginning of it all.
Sometimes you break down into inconsolable tears.
Other times you laugh at memories until your abs hurt.
Sometimes you take solace in the rain.
Other times you decide just to take a drive and be apart of nature again.
Sometimes you find time to listen to other people's grief.
Other times you find time to write about your own.
And slowly, very slowly sometimes, the grief begins to lift yet one more time.
There is not telling when any given grief cycle has come to an end. In some ways I don't know that the cycle ever truly ends. More I believe that we learn more and more how to make the cycle last longer so as to not repeat it so often.
In the moment of our grief, there are often many other's to share the load of the grief with. With time it seems to isolate you and make you feel as though you are the only one left with pain or sorrow inside, though you are never truly on your own. Because if we're all alone in our grief, we're all together in it too (P.s. I Love You).
Grief can be debilitating; it can be empowering. It can hold you back; it can propel you forward.
And in beautiful anomaly, you determine how your grief determines you.
Goodnight, dear void.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Your Place in the Family of Things
We've all done it. We've all thought at one moment or another -wondered- what the world might be like if we weren't in it. Would the world fall to pieces because you weren't there to hold it all together? Or more likely, would the world go on seemingly unscathed by your absence?
I think at some point in all of our lives we truly believe the first to be true. How could the world possibly be the same if you weren't there anymore or worse, if you'd never existed at all?
And yet, as you get older and see the world for the big place it really is, you begin to realize just how it turns- with you or not.
I always thought that as I got bigger the world would get smaller, but it has continued to grow bigger somehow. Doesn't that seem to defy some law of aging, some right of passage that comes with entering adulthood?
No matter how big or how old I get, the world is bigger and older still.
My condo has a living room wall that doesn't reach the ceiling. It leaves a gap at the top so someone can stand on the second floor and look over onto the scene playing out beneath them.
It is amazing how easy it is to really see the world without you from up there. Sometimes it appears to be better with you removed from it. It seems to function and move differently - more perfectly as laughter and expressions of joy reach you eyes and ears. And you begin to wonder if they even notice that you're not there anymore. If you never came back down you could easily believe your existence insignificant and inconsequential; you could easily see the adaptations as progressions.
However, I truly believe that it is in these moments that it is the most important for you to return to the world from which you came. Because as you descend the stairs you discover just how dysfunctional the world had become without you. It still continues on, to be sure, but not the way it would have had you been there to smooth over the patches that could only be smoothed by you.
So you see, the world will always continue to spin; it is not up to you to make it do so. But you can help it along just by being you within it. And that is honorable too.
Goodnight, dear void.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and deep rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
~ Mary Oliver. Wild geese.
I think at some point in all of our lives we truly believe the first to be true. How could the world possibly be the same if you weren't there anymore or worse, if you'd never existed at all?
And yet, as you get older and see the world for the big place it really is, you begin to realize just how it turns- with you or not.
I always thought that as I got bigger the world would get smaller, but it has continued to grow bigger somehow. Doesn't that seem to defy some law of aging, some right of passage that comes with entering adulthood?
No matter how big or how old I get, the world is bigger and older still.
My condo has a living room wall that doesn't reach the ceiling. It leaves a gap at the top so someone can stand on the second floor and look over onto the scene playing out beneath them.
It is amazing how easy it is to really see the world without you from up there. Sometimes it appears to be better with you removed from it. It seems to function and move differently - more perfectly as laughter and expressions of joy reach you eyes and ears. And you begin to wonder if they even notice that you're not there anymore. If you never came back down you could easily believe your existence insignificant and inconsequential; you could easily see the adaptations as progressions.
However, I truly believe that it is in these moments that it is the most important for you to return to the world from which you came. Because as you descend the stairs you discover just how dysfunctional the world had become without you. It still continues on, to be sure, but not the way it would have had you been there to smooth over the patches that could only be smoothed by you.
So you see, the world will always continue to spin; it is not up to you to make it do so. But you can help it along just by being you within it. And that is honorable too.
Goodnight, dear void.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and deep rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
~ Mary Oliver. Wild geese.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Wrong Turn
Oh, blast! That was my exit. It's okay, I'll just get off down here and get back on track. Good thing I know so many ways to get home.
Union - is that Jenni's exit or is that the next one? Just get off. If it's not Jenni's I can fix it later.
Nope, definitely not Jenni's. That's okay. Just take the left and follow it around the corner and the freeway should be... hmmm. Well I don't see the freeway anywhere, but this is the right direction so it has to intersect with something I'm familiar with at some point. Let's just take it and see where it leads. It feels right...
Wait, I know this place.
Flashback:
1 February 2011
Cars drive through the same intersection and pull into the cemetery on the corner. People get out and gather around a family and a coffin. It is a cold morning, yet they stand still and quiet as tears trickle down their cheeks. A prayer is offered, people take photos and say goodbye before piling back into their cars and driving away.
Zoom in on the coffin.
Grandma.
Grandma.
Breathe.
Turn around.
This has to be where she is buried. I remember the cars and the coffin right here. I'm glad I brought a jacket because this rain and wind are going to be freezing.
Hi, Grandma. I miss you. So does everyone else. It's been really hard these last few weeks remembering that you're not here anymore. You're in my dreams. I really miss you, Grandma.
Rain mixes with tears as I stand drenched at my Grandmother's grave, not sure what brought me here or why, but grateful nonetheless to have a moment alone with Grandma Bishop. I miss her.
Goodnight, dear void.
Union - is that Jenni's exit or is that the next one? Just get off. If it's not Jenni's I can fix it later.
Nope, definitely not Jenni's. That's okay. Just take the left and follow it around the corner and the freeway should be... hmmm. Well I don't see the freeway anywhere, but this is the right direction so it has to intersect with something I'm familiar with at some point. Let's just take it and see where it leads. It feels right...
Wait, I know this place.
Flashback:
1 February 2011
Cars drive through the same intersection and pull into the cemetery on the corner. People get out and gather around a family and a coffin. It is a cold morning, yet they stand still and quiet as tears trickle down their cheeks. A prayer is offered, people take photos and say goodbye before piling back into their cars and driving away.
Zoom in on the coffin.
Grandma.
Grandma.
Breathe.
Turn around.
This has to be where she is buried. I remember the cars and the coffin right here. I'm glad I brought a jacket because this rain and wind are going to be freezing.
Hi, Grandma. I miss you. So does everyone else. It's been really hard these last few weeks remembering that you're not here anymore. You're in my dreams. I really miss you, Grandma.
Rain mixes with tears as I stand drenched at my Grandmother's grave, not sure what brought me here or why, but grateful nonetheless to have a moment alone with Grandma Bishop. I miss her.
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Human
Would you be suprised if I told you that I was human?
Would you judge me for making mistakes?
Would you look down on me for sitting this one out?
Would you be surprised if I told you I was hurting?
Would you judge me for feeling within?
Would you look down on me for taking what you say to heart?
Would you be surprised if I told you I was healing?
Would you judge me for leaving the past in the past?
Would you look down on me for not being able to do everything?
Would you be surprised if I told you I was human?
Would you judge me for making mistakes?
Would you look down on me for sitting this one out?
Would you be surprised if I told you I was hurting?
Would you judge me for feeling within?
Would you look down on me for taking what you say to heart?
Would you be surprised if I told you I was healing?
Would you judge me for leaving the past in the past?
Would you look down on me for not being able to do everything?
Would you be surprised if I told you I was human?
Knock on Wood
Okay guys,
I smell like gasoline, there are two cats haunting me outside my house, I've lost my voice, my Droid is not functional, my garage door is hanging slanted in front of my house, I haven't had wheat or sugar in two weeks, and tomorrow I start a multi-vitamin regiment that includes 10 different pills at nearly every meal... Oi.
What else could go wrong?
Goodnight, dear void.
I smell like gasoline, there are two cats haunting me outside my house, I've lost my voice, my Droid is not functional, my garage door is hanging slanted in front of my house, I haven't had wheat or sugar in two weeks, and tomorrow I start a multi-vitamin regiment that includes 10 different pills at nearly every meal... Oi.
What else could go wrong?
Goodnight, dear void.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
My Hair
Have you ever had those days when your hair just demands to be done?
When you step out of the shower and look in the mirror and you just can't do anything else BUT blow dry, straighten, and style your hair?
And then, once you're styled and looking gorgeous, you look back into the mirror and your hair demands that you wear something rockin'- probably with a heel - because you're just too brilliantly beautiful to go out in a boring 'everyday' outfit?
If you haven't you need a new hair cut, hair style, or hair color... perhaps all three.
If you read this, look in the mirror and expect your hair to speak verbally to you... you may want to seek professional help... this is a figurative "speaking" of your hair to your soul. And more than your hair it's mostly your beauty demanding to be exposed and shown off because it's tired of being hidden beneath your less-than-optimistic attitude.
My beauty 'speaks' (again figurative) to me via my hair because my hair is best friends with both my beauty and my soul, so it has the easiest time reminding my soul of my beauty.
It is possible that your beauty may 'speak' (figuratively) to you through different means - not everyone's beauty is best friends with their hair. Therefore it behooves you to spend a moment discovering what it is that is best friends with your soul and your beauty so as to be able to better understand it when it begins to 'speak' to you.
I find it necessary as well to point out that it is not requisite for every person in the world to put on a heel. For instance, there have been times when I have looked in the mirror and my beauty has demanded that I go to the gym to remind my soul that it is indeed friends with the gym. And in that case, the heel turned into a tennis shoe, so please don't get too hung up on high heels.
As well, men, you can still achieve this moment of dashing handsomeness - have no fear! This experience is by no means only important for women. Men of the world also need to be reminded that they are ruggedly handsome. In your case, don't be afraid to look in the mirror and say, "Yup. I still go 'it'."
That being said, every once in a while I find it important to spend some extra time on my hair and subsequently on my outfit for the day so when I step outside my beauty and my soul have rekindled their best friendship and every step I take is a strikingly beautiful one.
I firmly believe that everyone deserves to revel in this experience at least once.
Once a month that is.
If you find yourself struggling with hearing your beauty or struggling to see beauty at all - drop me a line. You ARE beautiful and/or dashing, as the case may be.
Next time you look in mirror, you may want to put your - figurative - listening ears on and take a good long listen to your beauty, it's probably time for a little showcasing.
I have a strange feeling that 'you still got it'.
I know I do.
Goodnight, dear void.
As a p.s.
I would just like to add here:
More often than not the days when my hair demands to be done and my beauty demands a showcasing are the very same days when it is gloomy, rainy, or snowy outside.
There have been several times that I have taken one strikingly beautiful step outside only to have my hair and outfit laughed at by the weather.
It is important to not be defeated by the weather's mocking chortle. While your beauty has expressed itself on that particular occasion through your hair and clothes, if either or both are to be tested by the wind and precipitation, remember that the showcase is nothing but a showcase - your beauty is ever present and even more tangible when you've been rained on and blown to bits.
The showcase is more for your than for anyone of the outsiders you may see surrounding you. Don't give in. Keep that glorious feeling - your 'I've still got it' feeling - with you with every step of the way. Who you are and the beauty you portray and bring to the table has not been destroyed even if your hair has gone flat and your wispies have gone wild. Your steps still show that stunning human being you saw earlier in the mirror. Keep that image with you and forget what the day may bring to your hair or other aspects of your ensemble. The confidence gained from your exercise in bridging the gap between your soul and your beauty will make all the difference.
Trust me.
I do this all the time.
Beauty is not defined ultimately by clothes or hair.
It may be hard to remind myself of this at times, but I nonetheless believe that it is true. I am beautiful beyond my hair and colorful wardrobe. And so are you.
As was once wisely expressed, "You're never fully dressed without a smile".
Take your smile to heart and remember that if your smile is the only thing that has lasted the whole day through, so your true beauty has too.
When you step out of the shower and look in the mirror and you just can't do anything else BUT blow dry, straighten, and style your hair?
And then, once you're styled and looking gorgeous, you look back into the mirror and your hair demands that you wear something rockin'- probably with a heel - because you're just too brilliantly beautiful to go out in a boring 'everyday' outfit?
If you haven't you need a new hair cut, hair style, or hair color... perhaps all three.
If you read this, look in the mirror and expect your hair to speak verbally to you... you may want to seek professional help... this is a figurative "speaking" of your hair to your soul. And more than your hair it's mostly your beauty demanding to be exposed and shown off because it's tired of being hidden beneath your less-than-optimistic attitude.
My beauty 'speaks' (again figurative) to me via my hair because my hair is best friends with both my beauty and my soul, so it has the easiest time reminding my soul of my beauty.
It is possible that your beauty may 'speak' (figuratively) to you through different means - not everyone's beauty is best friends with their hair. Therefore it behooves you to spend a moment discovering what it is that is best friends with your soul and your beauty so as to be able to better understand it when it begins to 'speak' to you.
I find it necessary as well to point out that it is not requisite for every person in the world to put on a heel. For instance, there have been times when I have looked in the mirror and my beauty has demanded that I go to the gym to remind my soul that it is indeed friends with the gym. And in that case, the heel turned into a tennis shoe, so please don't get too hung up on high heels.
As well, men, you can still achieve this moment of dashing handsomeness - have no fear! This experience is by no means only important for women. Men of the world also need to be reminded that they are ruggedly handsome. In your case, don't be afraid to look in the mirror and say, "Yup. I still go 'it'."
That being said, every once in a while I find it important to spend some extra time on my hair and subsequently on my outfit for the day so when I step outside my beauty and my soul have rekindled their best friendship and every step I take is a strikingly beautiful one.
I firmly believe that everyone deserves to revel in this experience at least once.
Once a month that is.
If you find yourself struggling with hearing your beauty or struggling to see beauty at all - drop me a line. You ARE beautiful and/or dashing, as the case may be.
Next time you look in mirror, you may want to put your - figurative - listening ears on and take a good long listen to your beauty, it's probably time for a little showcasing.
I have a strange feeling that 'you still got it'.
I know I do.
Goodnight, dear void.
As a p.s.
I would just like to add here:
More often than not the days when my hair demands to be done and my beauty demands a showcasing are the very same days when it is gloomy, rainy, or snowy outside.
There have been several times that I have taken one strikingly beautiful step outside only to have my hair and outfit laughed at by the weather.
It is important to not be defeated by the weather's mocking chortle. While your beauty has expressed itself on that particular occasion through your hair and clothes, if either or both are to be tested by the wind and precipitation, remember that the showcase is nothing but a showcase - your beauty is ever present and even more tangible when you've been rained on and blown to bits.
The showcase is more for your than for anyone of the outsiders you may see surrounding you. Don't give in. Keep that glorious feeling - your 'I've still got it' feeling - with you with every step of the way. Who you are and the beauty you portray and bring to the table has not been destroyed even if your hair has gone flat and your wispies have gone wild. Your steps still show that stunning human being you saw earlier in the mirror. Keep that image with you and forget what the day may bring to your hair or other aspects of your ensemble. The confidence gained from your exercise in bridging the gap between your soul and your beauty will make all the difference.
Trust me.
I do this all the time.
Beauty is not defined ultimately by clothes or hair.
It may be hard to remind myself of this at times, but I nonetheless believe that it is true. I am beautiful beyond my hair and colorful wardrobe. And so are you.
As was once wisely expressed, "You're never fully dressed without a smile".
Take your smile to heart and remember that if your smile is the only thing that has lasted the whole day through, so your true beauty has too.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Oh My Goodness! THE PIES!
I FORGOT ABOUT THE PIES!
Whoosh! Splat! Squish! Laughter!!!!!!
The hardest part about doing 19 before 19 or 20 before 20 and this year's 21 before 21 is that I'm intrinsically such an overachiever that I inevitably do more than just 19 or 20 or 21 new and different things in one year.
And this year I did something so fun and so cool that it blew all the lists out of the water so I suppose I'm putting on a different list - an epic list. As Jenni said afterwards, "This is the best idea [I've] ever had!!!!"
What did we do you may be asking? What was so colossal, so monumental, so epic that I gave it its own blog post???
We
Had
A
PIE FIGHT!
AND IT WAS AWESOME!
One night I was watching television with Mari (I'm pretty sure it was a Mari night at least) and saw someone squish a pie in another person's face and a light when on in my mind. A light that went off in a part of my brain that has not been lit so brightly in quite some time. And I thought, "Why have I not done that?" So it had to be done.
With Jenni leaving for the MTC any day and me turning 21 at the end of the month we all understood the urgency of such an epiphany - so we acted... fast.
Monday 10 January 2011:Pie Fight Day
On my way home from school I stopped and bought 1 Oreo Creme Pie, 1 Banana Creme Pie, and 1 Lemon Meringue Pie. I smiled in my soul the whole way home.
We decided that we would squish the pies in each other's faces first to be sure that we did in fact hit our intended targets. So we all chose a pie and lined up to be splattered.
First up the Banana Creme pie, Me to be splattered, Ryan to do the splattering, and Jenni to record all things splatter.
I don't know if you've ever had a pie splattered in your face, but it's a little nerve wracking the first time around. Standing there waiting for the release is so intense and exhilarating because you have absolutely no concept of what to expect. Will it hurt? Will she miss? Will it be cold? Will it be lame? So many questions being hurled around in your mind as you stand waiting for the pie to be hurled having no idea what to think about or if you should duck because you've never just stood still while a giant object is chucked at your face before so you don't know what the standard protocol is but then again its a pie so therefore WHOOSH! SPLAT! SQUISH! LAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!
And it was done.
You laugh first because you don't know what else to do because honestly your mind hasn't fully had time to process what just happened. Then you laugh because your nose is filled to the brim with banana creme pie and you can't smell anything but pie and you certainly can't breathe properly at all. I couldn't see either because my glasses had been squished into the pie so tightly that when Ryan took the pie off my face, my glasses stayed with the pie. Haha. I spent the next several minutes pretending my fingers were glass shield wipers. Note to self and all other pie throwers alike, take off all glasses, jewelery, and any other removable items that may be affected by pie saturation - I may or may not have found left over pie on my glasses for the better part of that next week...
Next up the Oreo Creme Pie, Jenni to be splattered, Me to do the splattering, and Ryan to record all things splatter. WHOOSH! SPLAT! SQUISH! LAUGHTER!
I slammed Jenni's pie into her face... hard. I remember being pretty worried about missing her face - even if it was right in front of me. Nope, I was spot on!
And then the Lemon Meringue Pie, Ryan to be splattered, Jenni to do the splattering, and Me to record all things splatter. WOOSH! SPLat?....laughter....??
It didn't work. We were all laughing but there was hardly any meringue on Ryan's face and there certainly wasn't any pie to be found anywhere like the other pies. So we tried again. Jenni splattered the pie and gave it a good squish on Ryan's face to try to produce the desired effects - nothing. So disappointing. Note to future pie throwers - Meringue pies are not throwing or splattering pies - avoid at all costs.
So we sat down to have a bit of the pies we'd just conquered only to realize that they were the grossest pies I'd ever eaten. Disgusting. Good thing we hadn't wasted anything delicious. If anything we took those pies from awful to epic in one WHOOSH and completely fulfilled and succeed the little potential they had - they should say thank you.
Off to Macy's (without a star) to buy more pie and buy whipped creme to refill and reuse the other pies. This time we bought really delicious pies and didn't eat them... hmmm we'll work on that next time around.
On our way through the check out line the checker took one look at us (as if we'd taken time to clean up all the pie on us...mine was mostly concentrated in my hair) and asked, slightly concerned, if "that" had happened in the store. We laughed and assured him that we'd thrown no pies in his store and that he did not need to send Bob to clean up isle 6. Relief was visible on his face.
Back home we HAHA! Oh my gosh I forgot about this part! SO FUNNY! Sorry, back home we got geared up for Pieing Ryan take two. The pies we'd bought were in a freezer of sorts but we didn't think they could be too frozen...
We were wrong. Haha! And when Jenni went to splatter our friend, Ryan, you could hear it smack his nose!And I'm pretty sure he was laughing out of shock and possibly out of a little pain. We all thought that his nose might bleed. Turns out Macy's means business when they put there pies in a freezer of sorts... Haha! SO FUNNY!
What did we do next?!
To the oven we went to hopefully melt some of the frozen out of the pies so we could throw them. By this point we could see that pie splattering was quite the messy business so we decided for space and for mess that throwing pies was the business of the back porch.
If you could imagine the nerves involved in having someone right in front of you squish a pie in your face, you might be able to imagine the infinitely more abundant nerves involved in having someone stand several feet away from you and launching a pie at your face while you stand stationary. (If you couldn't imagine the first set of nerves, please don't try to imagine this second set - we don't need anyone getting hurt)
It was terrifying. I had no idea if it would hurt or maul me or eat me on contact or miss me completely. Plus, it was freezing outside so I was shaking already. WHOOSH! SPLAT! SQUISH!...
LAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If you have ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you should buy some pies and do some splattering - DO IT!
If you regret it, you didn't do it right. Come find me and I'll show you how it's done!
Goodnight, dear void.
Whoosh! Splat! Squish! Laughter!!!!!!
The hardest part about doing 19 before 19 or 20 before 20 and this year's 21 before 21 is that I'm intrinsically such an overachiever that I inevitably do more than just 19 or 20 or 21 new and different things in one year.
And this year I did something so fun and so cool that it blew all the lists out of the water so I suppose I'm putting on a different list - an epic list. As Jenni said afterwards, "This is the best idea [I've] ever had!!!!"
What did we do you may be asking? What was so colossal, so monumental, so epic that I gave it its own blog post???
We
Had
A
PIE FIGHT!
AND IT WAS AWESOME!
One night I was watching television with Mari (I'm pretty sure it was a Mari night at least) and saw someone squish a pie in another person's face and a light when on in my mind. A light that went off in a part of my brain that has not been lit so brightly in quite some time. And I thought, "Why have I not done that?" So it had to be done.
With Jenni leaving for the MTC any day and me turning 21 at the end of the month we all understood the urgency of such an epiphany - so we acted... fast.
Monday 10 January 2011:Pie Fight Day
On my way home from school I stopped and bought 1 Oreo Creme Pie, 1 Banana Creme Pie, and 1 Lemon Meringue Pie. I smiled in my soul the whole way home.
We decided that we would squish the pies in each other's faces first to be sure that we did in fact hit our intended targets. So we all chose a pie and lined up to be splattered.
First up the Banana Creme pie, Me to be splattered, Ryan to do the splattering, and Jenni to record all things splatter.
I don't know if you've ever had a pie splattered in your face, but it's a little nerve wracking the first time around. Standing there waiting for the release is so intense and exhilarating because you have absolutely no concept of what to expect. Will it hurt? Will she miss? Will it be cold? Will it be lame? So many questions being hurled around in your mind as you stand waiting for the pie to be hurled having no idea what to think about or if you should duck because you've never just stood still while a giant object is chucked at your face before so you don't know what the standard protocol is but then again its a pie so therefore WHOOSH! SPLAT! SQUISH! LAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!
And it was done.
You laugh first because you don't know what else to do because honestly your mind hasn't fully had time to process what just happened. Then you laugh because your nose is filled to the brim with banana creme pie and you can't smell anything but pie and you certainly can't breathe properly at all. I couldn't see either because my glasses had been squished into the pie so tightly that when Ryan took the pie off my face, my glasses stayed with the pie. Haha. I spent the next several minutes pretending my fingers were glass shield wipers. Note to self and all other pie throwers alike, take off all glasses, jewelery, and any other removable items that may be affected by pie saturation - I may or may not have found left over pie on my glasses for the better part of that next week...
Next up the Oreo Creme Pie, Jenni to be splattered, Me to do the splattering, and Ryan to record all things splatter. WHOOSH! SPLAT! SQUISH! LAUGHTER!
I slammed Jenni's pie into her face... hard. I remember being pretty worried about missing her face - even if it was right in front of me. Nope, I was spot on!
And then the Lemon Meringue Pie, Ryan to be splattered, Jenni to do the splattering, and Me to record all things splatter. WOOSH! SPLat?....laughter....??
It didn't work. We were all laughing but there was hardly any meringue on Ryan's face and there certainly wasn't any pie to be found anywhere like the other pies. So we tried again. Jenni splattered the pie and gave it a good squish on Ryan's face to try to produce the desired effects - nothing. So disappointing. Note to future pie throwers - Meringue pies are not throwing or splattering pies - avoid at all costs.
So we sat down to have a bit of the pies we'd just conquered only to realize that they were the grossest pies I'd ever eaten. Disgusting. Good thing we hadn't wasted anything delicious. If anything we took those pies from awful to epic in one WHOOSH and completely fulfilled and succeed the little potential they had - they should say thank you.
Off to Macy's (without a star) to buy more pie and buy whipped creme to refill and reuse the other pies. This time we bought really delicious pies and didn't eat them... hmmm we'll work on that next time around.
On our way through the check out line the checker took one look at us (as if we'd taken time to clean up all the pie on us...mine was mostly concentrated in my hair) and asked, slightly concerned, if "that" had happened in the store. We laughed and assured him that we'd thrown no pies in his store and that he did not need to send Bob to clean up isle 6. Relief was visible on his face.
Back home we HAHA! Oh my gosh I forgot about this part! SO FUNNY! Sorry, back home we got geared up for Pieing Ryan take two. The pies we'd bought were in a freezer of sorts but we didn't think they could be too frozen...
We were wrong. Haha! And when Jenni went to splatter our friend, Ryan, you could hear it smack his nose!And I'm pretty sure he was laughing out of shock and possibly out of a little pain. We all thought that his nose might bleed. Turns out Macy's means business when they put there pies in a freezer of sorts... Haha! SO FUNNY!
What did we do next?!
To the oven we went to hopefully melt some of the frozen out of the pies so we could throw them. By this point we could see that pie splattering was quite the messy business so we decided for space and for mess that throwing pies was the business of the back porch.
If you could imagine the nerves involved in having someone right in front of you squish a pie in your face, you might be able to imagine the infinitely more abundant nerves involved in having someone stand several feet away from you and launching a pie at your face while you stand stationary. (If you couldn't imagine the first set of nerves, please don't try to imagine this second set - we don't need anyone getting hurt)
It was terrifying. I had no idea if it would hurt or maul me or eat me on contact or miss me completely. Plus, it was freezing outside so I was shaking already. WHOOSH! SPLAT! SQUISH!...
LAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If you have ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you should buy some pies and do some splattering - DO IT!
If you regret it, you didn't do it right. Come find me and I'll show you how it's done!
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
She was
A spy. He was a spy. How could she have missed that? Had he mentioned it and she'd just forgotten that little piece of information? How was that possible? If he was a Russian spy... what did that make her?
The police sirens were all around her now. She thought she was just being paranoid after her first two subways trains had been swarming with police. She'd gotten off and chosen others. He'd told her to meet him at 7:00 on their normal street corner.
How had she gotten here in the first place? She was in love with not only a Russian spy but a married Russian spy. So many compromises she'd made in the moment when they hadn't seemed to matter now came rushing to the forefront of her mind.
It seemed like every corner she turned now had at least one police officer waiting. Why were they there? Did they know what she was carrying? Were they looking for her and her Russian spy?
When he had first started calling her Trixie she had thought it a cute pet name. When the instructions in the manilla envelope were addressed to Trixie she finally started putting the pieces together. She was a Russian spy... and an American working for the Criminal Justice Department. Again she wondered how she had arrived at such a place. How did she get tangled in all of this? A year ago such a fantastic scenario would only have had a place in the movie cinemas on in one of her books from the library and yet now she was the one carrying the manilla folder with documents in it and she was the one dodging police every chance she could.
Finally. He saw her out of the corner of his eye. What had taken her so long? Two policemen were crossing the street looking like they had a purpose. Play it cool. Trixie was here and she had the folder. And besides cops always look like they have a purpose when they know nothing. After all Trixie had been passing him information for almost a year now and no one suspected in the least.
When he'd first been asked to get to know her he hadn't expected her to fall in love with him and for him to have feelings in return. It had made it that much harder to rope her into all of this. That was his job so that was what was done.
As she approached he could see the panic and the fear coursing through her body. She wasn't the spy type- which is exactly what made her the perfect spy.
He was relieved to know that this was the last thing they would ask from her. After tonight she could decide what she wanted to do-she could call the shots for once.
Was it just him or did there seem to be more police on this corner than normal? Strange. There must be a drug bust going on somewhere down the street.
He turned and reached his arm out to her...
The police sirens were all around her now. She thought she was just being paranoid after her first two subways trains had been swarming with police. She'd gotten off and chosen others. He'd told her to meet him at 7:00 on their normal street corner.
How had she gotten here in the first place? She was in love with not only a Russian spy but a married Russian spy. So many compromises she'd made in the moment when they hadn't seemed to matter now came rushing to the forefront of her mind.
It seemed like every corner she turned now had at least one police officer waiting. Why were they there? Did they know what she was carrying? Were they looking for her and her Russian spy?
When he had first started calling her Trixie she had thought it a cute pet name. When the instructions in the manilla envelope were addressed to Trixie she finally started putting the pieces together. She was a Russian spy... and an American working for the Criminal Justice Department. Again she wondered how she had arrived at such a place. How did she get tangled in all of this? A year ago such a fantastic scenario would only have had a place in the movie cinemas on in one of her books from the library and yet now she was the one carrying the manilla folder with documents in it and she was the one dodging police every chance she could.
Finally. He saw her out of the corner of his eye. What had taken her so long? Two policemen were crossing the street looking like they had a purpose. Play it cool. Trixie was here and she had the folder. And besides cops always look like they have a purpose when they know nothing. After all Trixie had been passing him information for almost a year now and no one suspected in the least.
When he'd first been asked to get to know her he hadn't expected her to fall in love with him and for him to have feelings in return. It had made it that much harder to rope her into all of this. That was his job so that was what was done.
As she approached he could see the panic and the fear coursing through her body. She wasn't the spy type- which is exactly what made her the perfect spy.
He was relieved to know that this was the last thing they would ask from her. After tonight she could decide what she wanted to do-she could call the shots for once.
Was it just him or did there seem to be more police on this corner than normal? Strange. There must be a drug bust going on somewhere down the street.
He turned and reached his arm out to her...
Monday, March 21, 2011
If I Should Have A Daughter
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I love this.
On a Bus Adventure
I had a friend once.
He opened my eyes to a world I'd never seen
or felt or experienced before.
To a world of words that were saved
for rainy days and sunny days-
Words that could change the moment you were in
and create an entirely different moment in an instant.
He showed me that for every season
there is a poem-
That for every memory there are lines
that can be recited from memory which
solidify and enhance that memory.
He showed me that if you didn't know the way back home,
there was a poem that could take you there.
I remember one day on a bus adventure,
he recited poetry the whole way to and the whole way from.
And those poems stuck with me.
So did his world.
Goodnight, dear void.
I love this.
On a Bus Adventure
I had a friend once.
He opened my eyes to a world I'd never seen
or felt or experienced before.
To a world of words that were saved
for rainy days and sunny days-
Words that could change the moment you were in
and create an entirely different moment in an instant.
He showed me that for every season
there is a poem-
That for every memory there are lines
that can be recited from memory which
solidify and enhance that memory.
He showed me that if you didn't know the way back home,
there was a poem that could take you there.
I remember one day on a bus adventure,
he recited poetry the whole way to and the whole way from.
And those poems stuck with me.
So did his world.
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Let the Blogger inside you out!
Woof!
It has been entirely too long since I invested some loving in the void space that is my blog.
I just found some posts I printed out for one of my missionaries from back in August and was sad that I have neglected sharing my thoughts as of late. I have been so caught up in my own life and in feeling sorry for myself that I have committed a grievous sin-blog neglect.
My dear friend, Sarah, once warned me of this sin and admonished me never commit such a crime by losing sight of my blogging duties. I'm sorry to say that I have not heeded her advice and in doing so have let my thoughts go to the wayside and my soul to go unexpressed. What a waste!
I am here to rectify this situation and to repent!!
I moved into my parent's summer condo this past fall and just barely got around to decorating my room yesterday - a bit pathetic to have let it go so long but hey a much need up-do is a much needed up-do no matter how long it's been needed...
As I began making a giant collage on my wall I noticed myself dividing my life into several pieces and clumping memories from those pieces together to form definitive phases or sections in my life.
For instance, there was a section for Illinois and memories and people from that time in my life, a section for Hong Kong, a section for the Corner House and associated years, and a section for my boys and different walls for my family and Jenni.
My boys are in the middle taking up a large portion of space. They are a giant part of my life as I write to at least one of them (if not more or all of them) once a week and have written them fairly consistently for almost 2 years now. Hong Kong to their left and Illinois to their right. Which leaves the far right for the Corner House.
On an entirely different wall (next to my bed) is the space for my family and the wall across from my bed for Jenni.
As I thought about it I wondered what Freud would say. Laughing at this thought and chucking at the overlap between my personal and academic lives these days I realized that the collage I had made absentmindedly was actually an almost perfect representation of me. I seldom enjoy when my lives overlap or mix. For the most part I enjoy their separateness-me being the only link between them all.
However, as in real life, there are a few overlaps which strangely enough are represented in the collage.
All of my boys are from Hong Kong (represented by their space following the space for Hong Kong) except one - Jordan Johnson who is from my Illinois life which flows and overlaps slightly with my boys' section.
Jenni existed in the Corner House from time to time and consequently has a few pieces in that section. Along with Kaylee who was there for a year with me as well. That section is almost entirely separate from anything else. Hardly touching Illinois if it touches at all. True enough in reality as the Corner House world has no significant overlap into other parts of my life- people sometimes overlapped into it but not the other way around.
Jenni and my family are the most important parts of my life at this moment and clearly show themselves to be so as they demanded in my subconscious to have their own walls-allowing them to overlap somewhat in the overall collage but also allowing for the space they truly hold in my life.
It will be interesting to see how this collage continues to grow and take shape. I wonder if it will continue to show the inner workings of me and my life in a practical manner.
If not, it was at least an interesting exercise in Freudian theory.
Goodnight, dear void.
It has been entirely too long since I invested some loving in the void space that is my blog.
I just found some posts I printed out for one of my missionaries from back in August and was sad that I have neglected sharing my thoughts as of late. I have been so caught up in my own life and in feeling sorry for myself that I have committed a grievous sin-blog neglect.
My dear friend, Sarah, once warned me of this sin and admonished me never commit such a crime by losing sight of my blogging duties. I'm sorry to say that I have not heeded her advice and in doing so have let my thoughts go to the wayside and my soul to go unexpressed. What a waste!
I am here to rectify this situation and to repent!!
I moved into my parent's summer condo this past fall and just barely got around to decorating my room yesterday - a bit pathetic to have let it go so long but hey a much need up-do is a much needed up-do no matter how long it's been needed...
As I began making a giant collage on my wall I noticed myself dividing my life into several pieces and clumping memories from those pieces together to form definitive phases or sections in my life.
For instance, there was a section for Illinois and memories and people from that time in my life, a section for Hong Kong, a section for the Corner House and associated years, and a section for my boys and different walls for my family and Jenni.
My boys are in the middle taking up a large portion of space. They are a giant part of my life as I write to at least one of them (if not more or all of them) once a week and have written them fairly consistently for almost 2 years now. Hong Kong to their left and Illinois to their right. Which leaves the far right for the Corner House.
On an entirely different wall (next to my bed) is the space for my family and the wall across from my bed for Jenni.
As I thought about it I wondered what Freud would say. Laughing at this thought and chucking at the overlap between my personal and academic lives these days I realized that the collage I had made absentmindedly was actually an almost perfect representation of me. I seldom enjoy when my lives overlap or mix. For the most part I enjoy their separateness-me being the only link between them all.
However, as in real life, there are a few overlaps which strangely enough are represented in the collage.
All of my boys are from Hong Kong (represented by their space following the space for Hong Kong) except one - Jordan Johnson who is from my Illinois life which flows and overlaps slightly with my boys' section.
Jenni existed in the Corner House from time to time and consequently has a few pieces in that section. Along with Kaylee who was there for a year with me as well. That section is almost entirely separate from anything else. Hardly touching Illinois if it touches at all. True enough in reality as the Corner House world has no significant overlap into other parts of my life- people sometimes overlapped into it but not the other way around.
Jenni and my family are the most important parts of my life at this moment and clearly show themselves to be so as they demanded in my subconscious to have their own walls-allowing them to overlap somewhat in the overall collage but also allowing for the space they truly hold in my life.
It will be interesting to see how this collage continues to grow and take shape. I wonder if it will continue to show the inner workings of me and my life in a practical manner.
If not, it was at least an interesting exercise in Freudian theory.
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Seasons of Love
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?
Seasons of love.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?
In truths that she learned,
Or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned,
Or the way that she died.
It's time now to sing out,
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of a friend.
It's that time of year again to think about the year gone by and to report on the adventures takes and experiences had.
This year there was much less anxiety about getting older-although the anxiety is ever present in one form or another-mostly because this year felt like an eternity. So much has happened in the last 365 days that it felt time to move on to bigger and better 21 things. This whole month it has very much been a Lion King "it's time" atmosphere. Life is always about moving on. There is a beautiful song called Move On written by Stephen Sondhiem for Sunday in the Park with George which expresses this sentiment in exactness. If you don't move on, what do you have? Life is empty without growth and development.
I feel like I've learned a lot this year about life-about me. Life isn't always a walk in the park. Sometimes it's hard and there are many times you feel like giving up and throwing in the towel. But then where would you be? It's the hard times that make the easy times easy. If it was all cake there would be no one to eat the brownies or the ice cream? We need a well-balanced diet of chaos and peace-of happiness and sorrow.
Enough chatter, here's what you all came for.... the crazies...
21 before 21
1. Snuck cake into the theater and frosted it during the previews
2. Visited Starbucks headquarters
3. Climbed the bluff by the Larsen residence
4. Went shopping at Pike Place Market
5. Bleached my hair
6. Had my "energy" (palm) read
7. Shattered my rear view mirror on Mexico's garbage can
8. French prayers
9. Owed the IRS
10. Took Latin
11. Climbed Dixie Rock and ripped my pants
12. Read a trashy dollar store novel - Lust's Betrayal
13. Had my car booted twice in one week
14. Obtained red Wrap-around Toms boots
15. Bought a fun flask
16. Went skeet shooting
17. Beat Angry Birds
18. Built a snowman in St. George
19. Ate kiwi with the skin on
20. Dyed my hair "black"
21. Ate pizza with M&Ms (sick)
Along with so many more fun and exciting things accomplished and shared this past year.
I did a bang up job being 20 and feel fully ready to tackle being 21.
Words of new found wisdom:
Life is short.
Make each day worthwhile in whatever way possible.
Have fun now.
Laugh while you work.
Love with all your heart.
Tell people what they mean to you.
Make family a priority.
Goodnight, dear void.
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?
Seasons of love.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?
In truths that she learned,
Or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned,
Or the way that she died.
It's time now to sing out,
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of a friend.
It's that time of year again to think about the year gone by and to report on the adventures takes and experiences had.
This year there was much less anxiety about getting older-although the anxiety is ever present in one form or another-mostly because this year felt like an eternity. So much has happened in the last 365 days that it felt time to move on to bigger and better 21 things. This whole month it has very much been a Lion King "it's time" atmosphere. Life is always about moving on. There is a beautiful song called Move On written by Stephen Sondhiem for Sunday in the Park with George which expresses this sentiment in exactness. If you don't move on, what do you have? Life is empty without growth and development.
I feel like I've learned a lot this year about life-about me. Life isn't always a walk in the park. Sometimes it's hard and there are many times you feel like giving up and throwing in the towel. But then where would you be? It's the hard times that make the easy times easy. If it was all cake there would be no one to eat the brownies or the ice cream? We need a well-balanced diet of chaos and peace-of happiness and sorrow.
Enough chatter, here's what you all came for.... the crazies...
21 before 21
1. Snuck cake into the theater and frosted it during the previews
2. Visited Starbucks headquarters
3. Climbed the bluff by the Larsen residence
4. Went shopping at Pike Place Market
5. Bleached my hair
6. Had my "energy" (palm) read
7. Shattered my rear view mirror on Mexico's garbage can
8. French prayers
9. Owed the IRS
10. Took Latin
11. Climbed Dixie Rock and ripped my pants
12. Read a trashy dollar store novel - Lust's Betrayal
13. Had my car booted twice in one week
14. Obtained red Wrap-around Toms boots
15. Bought a fun flask
16. Went skeet shooting
17. Beat Angry Birds
18. Built a snowman in St. George
19. Ate kiwi with the skin on
20. Dyed my hair "black"
21. Ate pizza with M&Ms (sick)
Along with so many more fun and exciting things accomplished and shared this past year.
I did a bang up job being 20 and feel fully ready to tackle being 21.
Words of new found wisdom:
Life is short.
Make each day worthwhile in whatever way possible.
Have fun now.
Laugh while you work.
Love with all your heart.
Tell people what they mean to you.
Make family a priority.
Goodnight, dear void.
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