Saturday, October 31, 2009
Alliterative Alice
To put it simply, Byron [George Gordon, Lord Byron] was a Negative Nancy, Keats [John Keats] was a positive Patty, and Wordsworth [William Wordsworth] was somewhere in between (In Between Isabella). Byronic melancholy discusses an inevitable doom. Throughout Byron's works, he consistently expresses this inevitable doom over everyone and everything. Nothing can escape it. It is not "Happily Ever After". In contrast, Keats possesses a "glass half-full" attitude about life. In his works, things go wrong but not to the detriment of everyone and everything. It is by no means inevitable either. he sees some doom and gloom but also recognizes the "silver-linings" and the "light at the end of the tunnel"s. Wordsworth is less melancholic than Byron, but more melancholic than Keats. Wordsworth was not a fan of change and can often be seen as a melancholic because he wrote much about the world's changing nature. While it's not "Happily Ever After" for Wordsworth, it's definitely not 'Everyone's doomed so, what's the point'.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Appearance of Productivity
Abby Holyoak
28 October 2009
Paper Stuffs…
There was this one time I was in the Computer lab and didn’t want to look like I was wasting my time. So I started writing this word document…. To look more legit.
Ya.... that's what I call productivity, Baby! It's all about what it appears to be...
28 October 2009
Paper Stuffs…
There was this one time I was in the Computer lab and didn’t want to look like I was wasting my time. So I started writing this word document…. To look more legit.
Ya.... that's what I call productivity, Baby! It's all about what it appears to be...
Productivity at it's best!
I'm sitting in a computer lab surrounded by people typing and being productive with their lives and I just can't go along with it. I've already spent half an hour reading blogs, chatting online, answering emails, writing missionaries, and there just isn't time sometimes to be productive. You know?
I only work one more eight hour shift and then a five hour shift and then I'm done with work for the week. What bliss. I have much to do this weekend with my time off so no worries there. Study for a test, write a few papers, finish a theater class, play in the leaves (snow maybe...) memorize two poems (one of which I already pretty much have memorized from the number of times it has been quoted to me) Write another paper, watch two movies (Something Odyssey... got it 2001: A Space Odyssey and Blood and Chocolate), hang with the fam, hang with the roomies, sing, dance, laugh, and sleep on occasion. Quite the packed weekend. Plus more... Woof. There is no time for work in all of that. I'm so glad I have off!
Alright, I really should do something more with my life than blog. Considering all the things in my brain right now are just random mumbo jumbo I suppose it's best just to leave you to your own lives for the time being.
So, with that...
Goodnight, dear void.
I only work one more eight hour shift and then a five hour shift and then I'm done with work for the week. What bliss. I have much to do this weekend with my time off so no worries there. Study for a test, write a few papers, finish a theater class, play in the leaves (snow maybe...) memorize two poems (one of which I already pretty much have memorized from the number of times it has been quoted to me) Write another paper, watch two movies (Something Odyssey... got it 2001: A Space Odyssey and Blood and Chocolate), hang with the fam, hang with the roomies, sing, dance, laugh, and sleep on occasion. Quite the packed weekend. Plus more... Woof. There is no time for work in all of that. I'm so glad I have off!
Alright, I really should do something more with my life than blog. Considering all the things in my brain right now are just random mumbo jumbo I suppose it's best just to leave you to your own lives for the time being.
So, with that...
Goodnight, dear void.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Symbolism: The Corner House Story
Here's just a little glimpse into a night in the life of The Corner House...
The clock strikes midnight. Derrick reluctantly pulls himself up off the couch and heads for the door. MacKenzie, sleepily trudges behind and follows him out the door. Mari, Annisija and I sit on the couch eating ice cream and watching Hocus Pocus. All is calm and serene. We contemplate noticeably “peeking” through the blinds at Derrick and MacKenzie or “accidentally” walking out onto the porch from MacKenzie’s room “unknowingly” into the doorstep scene that is, no doubt, unfolding. We keep watching the movie. MacKenzie comes back in. All is well.....
Then....
Mari notices a spider crawling on the arm rest of the couch next to her and is up in a screaming flurry. She is followed almost instantaneously by me, with Annisija a close second behind. It's HUGE and scary and gross! Screaming continues as we lose sight of where the spider has scurried. Annisija points to the back of the couch as she stands on the opposite end's arm rest clearly disturbed by the scene in front of her. We're all in the living room now, attention intently focused on the brown couch cover; intensely scanning every inch of the couch for the brown hairy invader. We spot it!... on the end of the couch Annisija has been standing on. Screams! Annisija shoots up into the air, convulses mid flight, into what resembles a mid air side splits and lands on two feet in front of the couch screaming. I scream and run towards the offender, past the couch to my school bag. I grab it as I shoot by in an attempt to keep my school books free from attack. Screams! The arachnid is charging down the couch towards the floor. Screams! Mari grabs a bottle from the obliging floor and lays it in front of the spider's set path. As it enters the jar, Mari tips the jar up and twists on the lid. As she heads to the door she realizes what it is that is being held captive inside the glass curves. She is no longer able to hold it. Adrenaline allowed the capture, however was not enough to stay the fear for the release. Screams! Mari flails the jar around and we all scream and duck away from the container. MacKenzie, who thinks we're ridiculous, grabs the jar and releases the hairy being back into the nature from whence it came. She returns to all of us standing at our battle stations, unmoved, trying to compose ourselves.
Then we begin to laugh. :) "Did you see how high Annisija jumped off the couch?! I didn't know she could jump that high!!!!" Haha.
We continue to laugh. Eventually conversation leads to music. Next thing we know, MacKenzie is pushing play and music fills the kitchen. Dancing ensues... DANCE PARTY! We finish listening to the Beatle songs MacKenzie feels are important for us to experience. The music shifts to Les Mis and we are marching in unison singing full voice... "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men. It is the music of a people, who will NOT be slaves again! When the beating of your HEART echos the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!" We all know the actions neccessary for this song as provided by the choreographer Abby Holyoak as debuted on Sarah's blog alongside a posting on Facebook. We sing. We dance. We laugh.
Kumbaya!!!! We file outside, past the porch to the side walk in front of our house. We arrange ourselves into a circular shape, hold hands (right down, left up), and begin to sing, all the while swaying to either side in turn. We sing several legit verses and then continue as we make up our own words to express our inner sentiments. As we finish, we decide we don't want to go inside yet, so we declare our gratitude for the things in our lives; two things each. (Singing, dancing, love, each other, ice cream, stars, etc.)
It's late. We should have been in bed at least an hour ago. We're having too much fun together for sleep. We take different positions in the living room as we re-enter the house. Roommate prayer! We circle up trying to be serious long enough to be respectful. It's Sarah's turn. She's laughing too much to pray, so we move to Natasha. Prayer over, we hold hands and pass around the "love" squeeze. Discussion resumes, followed by copious amounts of laughter from each of us collectively, as well as, in turn. We discuss our lives; school, work, people at large, people we know, experiences we've had in the recent past, experiences we're currently going through, Mexico, South America, the works. Each discussion ends in peals of laughter.... some even result in Sarah doubled over on the floor snorting from hilariousness.
Sleepiness finally begins to settle in and we each file off into our bedtime routines, thinking about how much sleep we're not going to get and all the things we didn't get done. As MacKenzie finishes getting ready for bed she comes back to Sarah, Natasha, and I in the living room and gives us hugs and forehead kisses. Mari is asleep now, Annisija is in the shower and I'm piddling around trying to clean the kitchen before sleep overcomes me. All the while, Natasha and Sarah lie on the living room floor surrounded by pillows talking to each other about who knows what... just not wanting to move on from the moment.
One by one, each goes to bed. Mari, MacKenzie, Sarah, Annisija, Natasha, and soon I am the only one awake... doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen so it will be ready for whatever the morning brings.
What a lovely life we lead.
Symbolism: The Corner House Story
Goodnight, dear void.
The clock strikes midnight. Derrick reluctantly pulls himself up off the couch and heads for the door. MacKenzie, sleepily trudges behind and follows him out the door. Mari, Annisija and I sit on the couch eating ice cream and watching Hocus Pocus. All is calm and serene. We contemplate noticeably “peeking” through the blinds at Derrick and MacKenzie or “accidentally” walking out onto the porch from MacKenzie’s room “unknowingly” into the doorstep scene that is, no doubt, unfolding. We keep watching the movie. MacKenzie comes back in. All is well.....
Then....
Mari notices a spider crawling on the arm rest of the couch next to her and is up in a screaming flurry. She is followed almost instantaneously by me, with Annisija a close second behind. It's HUGE and scary and gross! Screaming continues as we lose sight of where the spider has scurried. Annisija points to the back of the couch as she stands on the opposite end's arm rest clearly disturbed by the scene in front of her. We're all in the living room now, attention intently focused on the brown couch cover; intensely scanning every inch of the couch for the brown hairy invader. We spot it!... on the end of the couch Annisija has been standing on. Screams! Annisija shoots up into the air, convulses mid flight, into what resembles a mid air side splits and lands on two feet in front of the couch screaming. I scream and run towards the offender, past the couch to my school bag. I grab it as I shoot by in an attempt to keep my school books free from attack. Screams! The arachnid is charging down the couch towards the floor. Screams! Mari grabs a bottle from the obliging floor and lays it in front of the spider's set path. As it enters the jar, Mari tips the jar up and twists on the lid. As she heads to the door she realizes what it is that is being held captive inside the glass curves. She is no longer able to hold it. Adrenaline allowed the capture, however was not enough to stay the fear for the release. Screams! Mari flails the jar around and we all scream and duck away from the container. MacKenzie, who thinks we're ridiculous, grabs the jar and releases the hairy being back into the nature from whence it came. She returns to all of us standing at our battle stations, unmoved, trying to compose ourselves.
Then we begin to laugh. :) "Did you see how high Annisija jumped off the couch?! I didn't know she could jump that high!!!!" Haha.
We continue to laugh. Eventually conversation leads to music. Next thing we know, MacKenzie is pushing play and music fills the kitchen. Dancing ensues... DANCE PARTY! We finish listening to the Beatle songs MacKenzie feels are important for us to experience. The music shifts to Les Mis and we are marching in unison singing full voice... "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men. It is the music of a people, who will NOT be slaves again! When the beating of your HEART echos the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!" We all know the actions neccessary for this song as provided by the choreographer Abby Holyoak as debuted on Sarah's blog alongside a posting on Facebook. We sing. We dance. We laugh.
Kumbaya!!!! We file outside, past the porch to the side walk in front of our house. We arrange ourselves into a circular shape, hold hands (right down, left up), and begin to sing, all the while swaying to either side in turn. We sing several legit verses and then continue as we make up our own words to express our inner sentiments. As we finish, we decide we don't want to go inside yet, so we declare our gratitude for the things in our lives; two things each. (Singing, dancing, love, each other, ice cream, stars, etc.)
It's late. We should have been in bed at least an hour ago. We're having too much fun together for sleep. We take different positions in the living room as we re-enter the house. Roommate prayer! We circle up trying to be serious long enough to be respectful. It's Sarah's turn. She's laughing too much to pray, so we move to Natasha. Prayer over, we hold hands and pass around the "love" squeeze. Discussion resumes, followed by copious amounts of laughter from each of us collectively, as well as, in turn. We discuss our lives; school, work, people at large, people we know, experiences we've had in the recent past, experiences we're currently going through, Mexico, South America, the works. Each discussion ends in peals of laughter.... some even result in Sarah doubled over on the floor snorting from hilariousness.
Sleepiness finally begins to settle in and we each file off into our bedtime routines, thinking about how much sleep we're not going to get and all the things we didn't get done. As MacKenzie finishes getting ready for bed she comes back to Sarah, Natasha, and I in the living room and gives us hugs and forehead kisses. Mari is asleep now, Annisija is in the shower and I'm piddling around trying to clean the kitchen before sleep overcomes me. All the while, Natasha and Sarah lie on the living room floor surrounded by pillows talking to each other about who knows what... just not wanting to move on from the moment.
One by one, each goes to bed. Mari, MacKenzie, Sarah, Annisija, Natasha, and soon I am the only one awake... doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen so it will be ready for whatever the morning brings.
What a lovely life we lead.
Symbolism: The Corner House Story
Goodnight, dear void.
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Girl I Mean To Be
MARY:
I need a place where I can go,
Where I can whisper what I know,
Where I can whisper who I like
And where I go to see them.
I need a place where I can hide,
Where no one sees my life inside,
Where I can make my plans, and write them down
So I can read them.
A place where I can bid my heart be still
And it will mind me.
A place where I can go when I am lost,
And there I'll find me.
I need a place to spend the day,
Where no one says to go or stay,
Where I can take my pen and draw
The girl I mean to be.
-The Secret Garden
I need a place where I can go,
Where I can whisper what I know,
Where I can whisper who I like
And where I go to see them.
I need a place where I can hide,
Where no one sees my life inside,
Where I can make my plans, and write them down
So I can read them.
A place where I can bid my heart be still
And it will mind me.
A place where I can go when I am lost,
And there I'll find me.
I need a place to spend the day,
Where no one says to go or stay,
Where I can take my pen and draw
The girl I mean to be.
-The Secret Garden
Saturday, October 17, 2009
A Bit of Earth
It's a funny thing to me... the way life plays out; perfect time and time again.
The way you learn a new word and then all the sudden everyone is saying that word.
The way you read a book and all the sudden people are referencing it everywhere.
The way you look back on things and can finally see why they happened.
Everyone everywhere wonders why.
I want to write more... but I can't seem to express the things I want to say and things I'm thinking.
So, for now...
Goodnight, dear void.
The way you learn a new word and then all the sudden everyone is saying that word.
The way you read a book and all the sudden people are referencing it everywhere.
The way you look back on things and can finally see why they happened.
Everyone everywhere wonders why.
I want to write more... but I can't seem to express the things I want to say and things I'm thinking.
So, for now...
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
7 Somethings
! Gazebos
" Holding Hands
£ Singing and Dancing
$ The Rain
% Swings
^ Cold Noses
& Eye Contact
" Holding Hands
£ Singing and Dancing
$ The Rain
% Swings
^ Cold Noses
& Eye Contact
Monday, October 12, 2009
Right right now
I want to write things
Lovely things for people to read
About grand adventures
And places I've been
Would you want to read
The words I've written?
Would you feel the passion
Or the sadness in my words?
Would you long to go
To those places I've seen
To see the magnificent sights described?
Would you believe me if I told you
That those adventures took place
In the comfort of my own imagination?
Oh the places you could go too.
Lovely things for people to read
About grand adventures
And places I've been
Would you want to read
The words I've written?
Would you feel the passion
Or the sadness in my words?
Would you long to go
To those places I've seen
To see the magnificent sights described?
Would you believe me if I told you
That those adventures took place
In the comfort of my own imagination?
Oh the places you could go too.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Happiness in a Mug
My life would be a very sad, awful place without the ability to talk to God and drink Stephen's mint hot chocolate.
Emily Dickinson
I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true --
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe --
The Eyes glaze once --
and that is Death --
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.
Because I know it's true --
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe --
The Eyes glaze once --
and that is Death --
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.
"There's no difference between the tear drops and the rain..."
Tears of joy, tears of pain
The difference between the two is slim
It seems that at some point they intertwine
As much as the tears are of pain, they are of joy
Pain that it had to happen
Joy that there is something greater than the tears
The only thing better than tears alone is tears in the rain
To have the whole world crying with you
The heavens weeping openly alongside your pain and joy
It encompasses both your joy and pain and so much more
Some even say tears and rain are the same
Whether they be the same or different
They have the oportunity to change their surroundings
For better or worse
It is up to you
The difference between the two is slim
It seems that at some point they intertwine
As much as the tears are of pain, they are of joy
Pain that it had to happen
Joy that there is something greater than the tears
The only thing better than tears alone is tears in the rain
To have the whole world crying with you
The heavens weeping openly alongside your pain and joy
It encompasses both your joy and pain and so much more
Some even say tears and rain are the same
Whether they be the same or different
They have the oportunity to change their surroundings
For better or worse
It is up to you
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Write write
Blogging tendencies are what drive me to writing today.
As most of you lovely readers know, I work at Jo Ann Fabrics and Crafts in Orem, Utah.
It is a splendid place of business home to some local celebrities and all around stupendous people. I am one such celebrity. Not everyone who has been privileged enough to encounter me knows me by name, or can tell you that I've died my hair three times in the last year, have a family that lives in Hong Kong, and that I'm majoring in English Education... some of them can. That is irrelevant and besides the point. Ask nearly anyone who has shopped there in the last year if they know the employee who sings and they will more often than not know exactly who I am, sans name and details.
I enjoy my job. Not because working retail is a dream ( it's not...) or because I get paid an awesome hourly wage (Yeah right!). I love it because I can do anything I want whenever I want. I can be funny, gloomy, excited, enthusiastic, mean, lovely, witty, charming, insane, and so many more, all in one shift. I don't have to ever be tied down to any certain emotion. I can check people out quickly or slowly, make things complicated or difficult... whatever. No one knows me personally so no one knows if this is typically just how I am or not.
Closing shifts are my favorite. Once it hits 8pm, the store is mine. If you come into my store an hour before we close, you are subject to all things Abby. I sing without restraint after 8:00 and there is not stopping me until I clock out and get in my car. It is a frequent thing to hear on the radio after we lock the doors for the night, "Alright, Abby, what musical are we doing tonight?"
And so it begins. We sing and dance, twirl and prance. We work in there as well. Putting away fabric and crafting goods has never been so much fun before, I'm sure. We hide behind corners and jump out and scream, we mock and we poke fun at every employee around.... even some that are not around. Phantom of the Opera, Man of La Mancha, Singing in the Rain, Newsies, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Music Man, Into the Woods, Les Miserables, you name it... we sing it.
Someday I'm going to be on Broadway. I can feel it in my bones. Not for my amazing vocal abilities or my stunning acting skills, but for my reputation. Who wouldn't want to see The Singing Jo Ann's Girl from Orem, Utah? I imagine that my debut on Broadway will be in a few years when My roommates and I have finished writing, Fabric Talks Too : A Jo Ann's Musical. Look for it on the billboards. It will feature debuting performances from Abby Holyoak and many more up and coming vocalists. Until then, come stop by around 8pm on just about any given week night. I'll be there. And I'll be singing. My name tag might not say Abby on it, but you'll know me when you hear me.
Goodnight, dear void.
As most of you lovely readers know, I work at Jo Ann Fabrics and Crafts in Orem, Utah.
It is a splendid place of business home to some local celebrities and all around stupendous people. I am one such celebrity. Not everyone who has been privileged enough to encounter me knows me by name, or can tell you that I've died my hair three times in the last year, have a family that lives in Hong Kong, and that I'm majoring in English Education... some of them can. That is irrelevant and besides the point. Ask nearly anyone who has shopped there in the last year if they know the employee who sings and they will more often than not know exactly who I am, sans name and details.
I enjoy my job. Not because working retail is a dream ( it's not...) or because I get paid an awesome hourly wage (Yeah right!). I love it because I can do anything I want whenever I want. I can be funny, gloomy, excited, enthusiastic, mean, lovely, witty, charming, insane, and so many more, all in one shift. I don't have to ever be tied down to any certain emotion. I can check people out quickly or slowly, make things complicated or difficult... whatever. No one knows me personally so no one knows if this is typically just how I am or not.
Closing shifts are my favorite. Once it hits 8pm, the store is mine. If you come into my store an hour before we close, you are subject to all things Abby. I sing without restraint after 8:00 and there is not stopping me until I clock out and get in my car. It is a frequent thing to hear on the radio after we lock the doors for the night, "Alright, Abby, what musical are we doing tonight?"
And so it begins. We sing and dance, twirl and prance. We work in there as well. Putting away fabric and crafting goods has never been so much fun before, I'm sure. We hide behind corners and jump out and scream, we mock and we poke fun at every employee around.... even some that are not around. Phantom of the Opera, Man of La Mancha, Singing in the Rain, Newsies, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Music Man, Into the Woods, Les Miserables, you name it... we sing it.
Someday I'm going to be on Broadway. I can feel it in my bones. Not for my amazing vocal abilities or my stunning acting skills, but for my reputation. Who wouldn't want to see The Singing Jo Ann's Girl from Orem, Utah? I imagine that my debut on Broadway will be in a few years when My roommates and I have finished writing, Fabric Talks Too : A Jo Ann's Musical. Look for it on the billboards. It will feature debuting performances from Abby Holyoak and many more up and coming vocalists. Until then, come stop by around 8pm on just about any given week night. I'll be there. And I'll be singing. My name tag might not say Abby on it, but you'll know me when you hear me.
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sleep Time
I should be sleeping right now but I just can't....
They say that time flies by.
To where does it go?
Why would it want to leave me behind?
How is it that a moment can be fleeting
And yet last forever all at the same time?
The next five years seems like a lifetime,
When the last five have disappeared in a whirl.
Time. Four letters. The same as love and life.
It seems to speed up and slow down without warning.
It doesn't stop for anything or anyone.
Time.
They say that time flies by.
To where does it go?
They say that time flies by.
To where does it go?
Why would it want to leave me behind?
How is it that a moment can be fleeting
And yet last forever all at the same time?
The next five years seems like a lifetime,
When the last five have disappeared in a whirl.
Time. Four letters. The same as love and life.
It seems to speed up and slow down without warning.
It doesn't stop for anything or anyone.
Time.
They say that time flies by.
To where does it go?
Monday, October 5, 2009
Still Laughing
I was going to blog later, then I read Gordon's blog and I could resist!
The people next to me in the computer lab right now think I'm insane. My random bursts of laughter are not nearly as appreciated as they should be. If only they knew about the night I had last night...
I have a friend, let's just call him Joe. Joe and I have been friends for a while now. We talk often and he has become a very important person in my life. Last night I was going through an insecure spell in our friendship. I felt that the past little while Joe had been a bit distant. I felt as though he didn't really care about me as much as I once had thought he had. (Or as much as he should, because who wouldn't care about me a lot?! I mean honestly?!) When I told him this, he didn't say anything. Being a girl, I knew that the correct response to my expressing my insecurities was for him to refute them. To tell me I was crazy and that he did too care about me. When he didn't respond this way I did the natural thing and interpreted his silence as confirmation of my insecurities. I hung up the phone convinced I meant nothing to Joe and cried for the next hour after telling as many people as I felt needed to know immediately that Joe and I were no longer going to be in each others' lives.
Joe cares about me. He is my friend and I am his. I love communication.
Take the time today to tell the important people in your life that you care about them and that you're grateful to have them in your life. Even if you think they know, we all go through insecurity spells from time to time. You can never be told too many times that you are cared about.
I love you guys. If you're taking time to read about my crazy, often insane, life then I love you. If you think you know who Joe is... you don't. Joe is the characterization of a person we all have in our lives who we wonder about. Male, or female. Do they really care that I'm in their life at all? If I stopped talking to them today, would they even notice?
Stop being insecure in your relationships. Stop assuming (because we all know what assuming does...) that people don't care about you. Look for the best in people and you will find it.
If you think you might be being a Joe in somebody's life, you probably are. So do something about it. It's OK to be attached to people. It's OK to tell them that you care. It's OK to be the first to tell them you are grateful to have them around and it's OK to call them up just to say, "Hi" or to see if they want to go adventuring.
Initiating something every once in a while rejuvenates the soul. (Feel free to quote me.)
Goodnight, dear void.
The people next to me in the computer lab right now think I'm insane. My random bursts of laughter are not nearly as appreciated as they should be. If only they knew about the night I had last night...
I have a friend, let's just call him Joe. Joe and I have been friends for a while now. We talk often and he has become a very important person in my life. Last night I was going through an insecure spell in our friendship. I felt that the past little while Joe had been a bit distant. I felt as though he didn't really care about me as much as I once had thought he had. (Or as much as he should, because who wouldn't care about me a lot?! I mean honestly?!) When I told him this, he didn't say anything. Being a girl, I knew that the correct response to my expressing my insecurities was for him to refute them. To tell me I was crazy and that he did too care about me. When he didn't respond this way I did the natural thing and interpreted his silence as confirmation of my insecurities. I hung up the phone convinced I meant nothing to Joe and cried for the next hour after telling as many people as I felt needed to know immediately that Joe and I were no longer going to be in each others' lives.
Joe cares about me. He is my friend and I am his. I love communication.
Take the time today to tell the important people in your life that you care about them and that you're grateful to have them in your life. Even if you think they know, we all go through insecurity spells from time to time. You can never be told too many times that you are cared about.
I love you guys. If you're taking time to read about my crazy, often insane, life then I love you. If you think you know who Joe is... you don't. Joe is the characterization of a person we all have in our lives who we wonder about. Male, or female. Do they really care that I'm in their life at all? If I stopped talking to them today, would they even notice?
Stop being insecure in your relationships. Stop assuming (because we all know what assuming does...) that people don't care about you. Look for the best in people and you will find it.
If you think you might be being a Joe in somebody's life, you probably are. So do something about it. It's OK to be attached to people. It's OK to tell them that you care. It's OK to be the first to tell them you are grateful to have them around and it's OK to call them up just to say, "Hi" or to see if they want to go adventuring.
Initiating something every once in a while rejuvenates the soul. (Feel free to quote me.)
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Something
Today is my day off.
I rolled out of bed... late. Ugh. Grabbed my preppy sweat pants (because I couldn't find my ghetto sweat pants) and a jacket and drove to school.... late. I finally got to Brit Lit (Yes, late. Stop judging me!) where we had a lovely discussion about the Victorian Era; the literature, the politics, the roles of women and men, the technology, evolution. After class, I walked to the shuttle bus stop with my friend, Amber (or is it Amanda. I'm never quite certain. I just avoid saying her name and call it good.). It was a beautiful, chilly, sunny morning. I love when its just cold enough for a sweater. I love the way your nose gets chilled first and you know its autumn and soon the snow will be falling again.
It's been a year. A whole year. A year of school, a year of my roommates, a year of the corner house, a year of knowing people, a year of work. Yesterday, one of my very favorite guests came into work. (I work at Jo Ann Fabrics and Crafts) I was scheduled at the cut counter which doesn't happen very often. As I was cutting for this guest and we were chatting about the most recent project she was working on (a wedding dress she designed from her customer's sketch of what she wanted), and I realized that it was almost exactly a year ago, at that very cut counter, that I met her. A year. Tomorrow when I wake up, it will be two.
Do you ever feel like you can't really talk to the people around you about what's really going on inside of you? Not because you don't want to or because they speak a different language or something... but because there just aren't the right words to be able to explain in a way in which they would be able to understand. Because it's so real and so personal and so close to you that no one else could possibly really understand at all. Because they're not you. They haven't been where you've been and though they partly understand, its just not the same.
I'm happy. To say more would be to attempt to breach the above mentioned phenomenon.
Why is it though, that as I was sitting today thinking about life that I began to wonder if in my being happy I've made others unhappy? Have I been so self-involved and so inwardly focused that I've stopped taking other people into consideration? How do you find a balance between what you need to do to be happy and what you need to do in order to help others not be unhappy? Have I alienated people I care about without realizing it? Have I made them feel small or insignificant? How do you even go about finding that balance and repairing the relationships you may have damaged along the way?
Goodnight, dear void.
I rolled out of bed... late. Ugh. Grabbed my preppy sweat pants (because I couldn't find my ghetto sweat pants) and a jacket and drove to school.... late. I finally got to Brit Lit (Yes, late. Stop judging me!) where we had a lovely discussion about the Victorian Era; the literature, the politics, the roles of women and men, the technology, evolution. After class, I walked to the shuttle bus stop with my friend, Amber (or is it Amanda. I'm never quite certain. I just avoid saying her name and call it good.). It was a beautiful, chilly, sunny morning. I love when its just cold enough for a sweater. I love the way your nose gets chilled first and you know its autumn and soon the snow will be falling again.
It's been a year. A whole year. A year of school, a year of my roommates, a year of the corner house, a year of knowing people, a year of work. Yesterday, one of my very favorite guests came into work. (I work at Jo Ann Fabrics and Crafts) I was scheduled at the cut counter which doesn't happen very often. As I was cutting for this guest and we were chatting about the most recent project she was working on (a wedding dress she designed from her customer's sketch of what she wanted), and I realized that it was almost exactly a year ago, at that very cut counter, that I met her. A year. Tomorrow when I wake up, it will be two.
Do you ever feel like you can't really talk to the people around you about what's really going on inside of you? Not because you don't want to or because they speak a different language or something... but because there just aren't the right words to be able to explain in a way in which they would be able to understand. Because it's so real and so personal and so close to you that no one else could possibly really understand at all. Because they're not you. They haven't been where you've been and though they partly understand, its just not the same.
I'm happy. To say more would be to attempt to breach the above mentioned phenomenon.
Why is it though, that as I was sitting today thinking about life that I began to wonder if in my being happy I've made others unhappy? Have I been so self-involved and so inwardly focused that I've stopped taking other people into consideration? How do you find a balance between what you need to do to be happy and what you need to do in order to help others not be unhappy? Have I alienated people I care about without realizing it? Have I made them feel small or insignificant? How do you even go about finding that balance and repairing the relationships you may have damaged along the way?
Goodnight, dear void.
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