I was about to start complaining, but there's rain, and there's thunder. And it's hard to complain about anything when there's rain and there's thunder.
My eyes droop harder than they used to at this hour of night. It makes me reminiscent about a time when sleeping was for the weak, a time when home was where I landed, a time when time meant nothing... nothing at all. Now I am weak. Now I prefer to land where my bed is, and my bed is at home. Now time means everything. So my eyes droop. They droop, and they remember.
Some things don't change though. Like my room. I still can't seem to keep a tidy room. I can keep a tidy home. I can keep a tidy classroom. But not my bedroom. That... that becomes a haven for all the messy thoughts in my head to spill out onto the carpet. And it's pretty messy in my head.
And I want to go walk in the rain right now, but I'm a chicken because I know it's cold. And I want to tell every person I meet that I love them, because I love every person I meet. And I want to tell every boy that I have a crush on him, because I have a crush on every boy. And I want to take every dog home with me. And I want to be 12 years old again, like I was last year and the year before that and the year before that and the year before that. And I want to ride my bike through the rain so the water hits me in the back, because I'm not nearly sophisticated enough to have wheel covers. And I want to ride down a hill as my shoes skid across the sidewalk. And I want everything to slow down just a little bit.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Drunk like Angels on Christmas Eve
It's still a little too early to sleep with the window open, which is probably the saddest part of my day so far. Pretty good, eh? I finished off the newest season of Weeds on Netflix. It didn't disappoint. I also finished all of my grading for the last quarter (save the 7/8th grade business letters that are hiding somewhere on my computer at school). All in all, a successful day. I appreciate the fact that when I wake up these mornings, I can hear the birds outside my window. There's a comfort in that, that I don't recognize I miss until it's back.
Now, while I finish a mug of tea, I'll make a little list for you, simply because it's been a while.
There are some things that I will just NEVER understand.
1.) why my earrings are in my cereal bowl
2.) how string cheese works
3.) wedge heels
4.) why people aren't more willing to go great distances to get me coffee
5.) science
6.) sheep wearing fleece sweaters
Please bring me these things immediately.
1.) coffee (or tea)
2.) dinosaurs
3.) a party
Now, while I finish a mug of tea, I'll make a little list for you, simply because it's been a while.
There are some things that I will just NEVER understand.
1.) why my earrings are in my cereal bowl
2.) how string cheese works
3.) wedge heels
4.) why people aren't more willing to go great distances to get me coffee
5.) science
6.) sheep wearing fleece sweaters
Please bring me these things immediately.
1.) coffee (or tea)
2.) dinosaurs
3.) a party
Thursday, March 10, 2011
A lesson on being born...
It always happens like this...
Your hand will graze his, and you won't even notice
until he doesn't move. "Sorry," as your fingers make a
quick, awkward retreat to your pocket or your purse
or your hair. You didn't mean to, but you're not sorry.
You think you are, but you're not. And you noticed that
he didn't shrink away from you, and you know that if
your hands were to touch again in that way, your fingers
would recollect all of those underwater basket weaving
classes you skipped in college to have lunch together.
So you keep your hand in your pocket, in your purse, in
your hair. Because you're scared. Because you realize all
this tension started ten months ago. Because you remember
now the corn husk moon on the grass and the grass on your
feet and your feet in the cool, night air of May. Because you
remember how holy that was. And you're scared, because
this night could be holy, too. And you both know God a
whole lot better than most televangelists. But the God in
your actions and the God in your stomach, has never been
the God in your voice. So all this holiness comes manifest
in one hand graze and a lot of thoughts with no mouth.
All the Hail Mary's and Glory Be's aren't going to bring
your voice any closer to grazing his with a, "I think I like
you." Because you hide it a whole lot deeper than your
pocket or your purse or your hair. So tonight you'll leave
with that one moment, with the God in your stomach and
the God in your actions trying to make it past your teeth.
Your hand will graze his, and you won't even notice
until he doesn't move. "Sorry," as your fingers make a
quick, awkward retreat to your pocket or your purse
or your hair. You didn't mean to, but you're not sorry.
You think you are, but you're not. And you noticed that
he didn't shrink away from you, and you know that if
your hands were to touch again in that way, your fingers
would recollect all of those underwater basket weaving
classes you skipped in college to have lunch together.
So you keep your hand in your pocket, in your purse, in
your hair. Because you're scared. Because you realize all
this tension started ten months ago. Because you remember
now the corn husk moon on the grass and the grass on your
feet and your feet in the cool, night air of May. Because you
remember how holy that was. And you're scared, because
this night could be holy, too. And you both know God a
whole lot better than most televangelists. But the God in
your actions and the God in your stomach, has never been
the God in your voice. So all this holiness comes manifest
in one hand graze and a lot of thoughts with no mouth.
All the Hail Mary's and Glory Be's aren't going to bring
your voice any closer to grazing his with a, "I think I like
you." Because you hide it a whole lot deeper than your
pocket or your purse or your hair. So tonight you'll leave
with that one moment, with the God in your stomach and
the God in your actions trying to make it past your teeth.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Twilight zone. Twilight saga.... Twilight.
I wish things would quit ruining the word "twilight." It's such a beautiful word.
Over the last couple of years I've started noticing something that, at first, only seemed like a coincidence. I'm not sure what it is now. Maybe it's still just a coincidence. Maybe it's something more. Maybe it's nothing. I often go walking around or driving in the dark. There's never really a set time or location. I just go... whenever I feel like it. It's been like that all the places that I've lived, ever since high school. And every time that I've gone walking in the dark, all the times I can remember, streetlights have turned off above me. Not around me. Not like I see them flicker in the distance.... No... when I'm directly below them, they just... turn off. And it's not all of them. It's usually just one, maybe two. I think it happens when I'm in my car, too. I know that it does sometimes, and others... it's just a sense that I get. I can just tell.
Like I said, maybe it's all in my head. Maybe that happens to people all the time, just like me. But there's always something so surreal about it, something so eerie, yet wonderful.
Over the last couple of years I've started noticing something that, at first, only seemed like a coincidence. I'm not sure what it is now. Maybe it's still just a coincidence. Maybe it's something more. Maybe it's nothing. I often go walking around or driving in the dark. There's never really a set time or location. I just go... whenever I feel like it. It's been like that all the places that I've lived, ever since high school. And every time that I've gone walking in the dark, all the times I can remember, streetlights have turned off above me. Not around me. Not like I see them flicker in the distance.... No... when I'm directly below them, they just... turn off. And it's not all of them. It's usually just one, maybe two. I think it happens when I'm in my car, too. I know that it does sometimes, and others... it's just a sense that I get. I can just tell.
Like I said, maybe it's all in my head. Maybe that happens to people all the time, just like me. But there's always something so surreal about it, something so eerie, yet wonderful.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
One Word: Cereal
It's all cereal all the time over here. Except when I'm out of milk.
It's all Chile all the time over here.
I can't remember the last time I was in control. Right now, looking back on my life so far, I'm not certain if I've ever once been in control. And it's wonderful.
It's all Chile all the time over here.
I can't remember the last time I was in control. Right now, looking back on my life so far, I'm not certain if I've ever once been in control. And it's wonderful.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I get paid to disturb the peace
I want you to sit on a dusty sidewalk with me, against a brick building and not worry about what else could be on that sidewalk. I want you to make fun of the suits and the boots that walk in and out of Starbucks but always know when it's time to put away the snide remarks and get me a grande caramel macchiato. I want you to act like you hate dusting the snow off my car, because you probably do. I want to feel your five o'clock shadow in an actual shadow at five o'clock. I want the shoes you wear to tell me where you've been. I want you to not need words but to use them anyway. I want you to teach me how to do something new... anything new. I want you to want to save the world.
I don't care what God you believe in as long as your faith is the kind that makes booties that don't stop look lazy. I don't care where you come from as long as you have found beauty in every place since then and, therefore, that place, too. I don't care who's on your friends list as long as I can be, too. I don't care how much you sleep as long as you know how to rest. I don't care what you eat as long as I can try to make it best.
I haven't been in the dark for too long. I miss it. I need it. I want you to learn to appreciate the dark with me. To appreciate the silence. To appreciate the stillness. That moment when 2:03 a.m. is softly becoming 2:04, and you're certain that most things have forgotten they're even still alive... that's where your learning begins.
I don't care what God you believe in as long as your faith is the kind that makes booties that don't stop look lazy. I don't care where you come from as long as you have found beauty in every place since then and, therefore, that place, too. I don't care who's on your friends list as long as I can be, too. I don't care how much you sleep as long as you know how to rest. I don't care what you eat as long as I can try to make it best.
I haven't been in the dark for too long. I miss it. I need it. I want you to learn to appreciate the dark with me. To appreciate the silence. To appreciate the stillness. That moment when 2:03 a.m. is softly becoming 2:04, and you're certain that most things have forgotten they're even still alive... that's where your learning begins.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Lord, beer me strength
Hey 2011, you've been pretty good to me so far. Let's keep that up.
Last year was supposed to be my year. In fact, I emphatically told my sisters that they couldn't do anything special because it was my year. It was a good year, but I'm not sure it was mine. I'm not quite sure I even get a year, or maybe every year is my year. It doesn't really matter, I guess.
As I was driving back home, or at least back to the place where I keep all of my things, I couldn't help but feel the limbo I live in. I'm so much more uncertain than I used to be about what comes next. For now, at least for the next few months, I'm okay not knowing. There's a certain charm and comfort in not knowing.
But I do know some things... like my new years resolution. I don't really like to do measurable things. Instead I kind of choose self-betterment things. In the past it was to love more, or to be more patient, or to get what I need. This year I'm going to try harder. I don't try hard enough. I mean... I do a good job at the things I do... but I could do much better. I could try much harder. And I'm going to.
Finally, just as a reminder to myself, I have the most bang-up set of friends that has probably ever existed. I've been blessed in ways that no one deserves, received only through the grace of God.
See ya, 2010, it's been real.
Last year was supposed to be my year. In fact, I emphatically told my sisters that they couldn't do anything special because it was my year. It was a good year, but I'm not sure it was mine. I'm not quite sure I even get a year, or maybe every year is my year. It doesn't really matter, I guess.
As I was driving back home, or at least back to the place where I keep all of my things, I couldn't help but feel the limbo I live in. I'm so much more uncertain than I used to be about what comes next. For now, at least for the next few months, I'm okay not knowing. There's a certain charm and comfort in not knowing.
But I do know some things... like my new years resolution. I don't really like to do measurable things. Instead I kind of choose self-betterment things. In the past it was to love more, or to be more patient, or to get what I need. This year I'm going to try harder. I don't try hard enough. I mean... I do a good job at the things I do... but I could do much better. I could try much harder. And I'm going to.
Finally, just as a reminder to myself, I have the most bang-up set of friends that has probably ever existed. I've been blessed in ways that no one deserves, received only through the grace of God.
See ya, 2010, it's been real.