tea & whimsy

two hundred. ten.

2012-02-10T18:24:00.000-06:00

I read something at an open mic night a while back & thought I would post it here. If you've read this blog at all some things will be a bit redundant. If you make it through to the end you should win a prize.

Here goes:

I still long to stare at things and wonder.

I thinksome of my favorite things – my favorite songs, words, images – are animplication. Just a nod.

A nod ina direction, and if you tried too hard to grab on to it and bring it into thelight so you could see it quite clearly, it would swiftly flee, understandingthat the words that remain unsaid are powerful words. There are some things youmust let others see for themselves without telling them how to see it.

Myfather taught me some things about seeing.

Iremember the first time I saw the water as a color other than blue.

If hehad handed me a canvas at any point in my life and said to me: “Paint the water.”I would have painted some blue waves, perhaps white tipped, the sea in my mind.

And hewould tell me to really look.

One timeI did, the time that no one told me to. I was sitting and eating ice cream onthe dock. The sun was setting and there were the colors all over the water. Theblue was the sky, with the pink and the orange from the sun, the green murkybits from the seaweed, the silver flash from the fish, so quick you almostthought you imagined it.

Thethings that surround us are anything but commonplace.

Thereare moments where I am overtaken by longing. There is an ache driven byyearning at the back of my throat, wishing I could open my mouth and swallowthis moment whole. And I would keep it here in my chest for always. There is anache in my fingers as if they wished I could open my hands and hold thismoment, those words, that music, that sky in my hands, feel it & know it.

He is anartist and it’s the only way he can hold the sky in his hands, the only way hecan know it and let it then be known. This is his reaction; this is what hedoes when something alters him.

You’veheard the bit about ripples, about a drop of water causing a big reaction.

Theripples simply can’t help themselves but react.

What iscreated or done when you are a ripple fascinates me. I think it’s one of themost interesting parts of people – what alters them. You know? Somethingstrikes you and you can’t help but react. It’s bigger than being grateful orangry; you’re thrown into a whirlwind of expression almost helplessly. You seeor hear or experience something and you must in turn react: you must paint,dance, write, sing or create. You must go or come or stay, walk, run. Whetherit is in awe or in fury, or an awful fury, or wonder, or joy, the weight is toomuch to sit in passive silence, to coat with weak words. No, you must answer,you must join, you find yourself altered.

My father is an artist. As children wewere all forced [against our will at times] to take his art classes. I don’tthink my brother and sister minded nearly as much as I did. There was a lot Ididn’t understand about drawing. My Dad would tell me to draw him. I would. Iswear I would be drawing him just as he sat there with his hat on his head andhis eyes down. What happened on my paper looked like a disfigured creature. Iwould get frustrated and begin to cry quietly out of my obsessiveperfectionist nature. He would have me draw perspective drawings of shapesdisappearing into the horizon line. How difficult is it to draw severalsquares? He always made it look so easy but I couldn’t draw a straight linewith a ruler. The thing that stuck the most about art class were eyes. Drawingeyes, and where they were placed. I would always draw people with eyes stuck inthe middle of the forehead, that’s where eyes went in my mind.

Thefirst time Dad told me that eyes were not placed so close to the forehead line,that they were between your ears in the middle of your face, I wasflabbergasted.

What?

Itcouldn’t be true. When I tried it out on my next drawing it was so true. I wasamazed. I had never thought of eyes sitting between your ears. One day when heasks me what I’ve learned from him, I’ll tell him that. I know where to put myeyes now.

Iremember possibility. Those days when I was learning how to see, every morningwas full of it, days ahead stretched out with it in abundance. My parentsconvinced us there was nothing we couldn’t do. They were dreamers with us, justchildren raising children. Grabbing the future in the palms of grubby hands wecould be really something extraordinary.

If youcould be anything you wanted, what would it be?

We’d layon our backs, looking up, windswept and whimsical.

It’sdifferent now, isn’t it? As we fast forward I’m left staring at and standingwith people who might not remember possibility or hope. Or it’s one of the oldthings they take out and look at every once in a while with a sense of loss andnostalgia. I am tethered to hope, I think, there is a thread that ties me toit. When I fall it tugs me back.

There isone girl.

She isone who looks at hope like an old thing.

Herhands are shaking as she lights another cigarette. She is dressed in herhopeful pink dress, hopeful that he would take notice this time. When she heardthe violin strings she started to cry quietly, but you could tell she had tosqueeze the tears out because they wouldn’t spill over by themselves.

Severalheavy drags in and she begins to talk about why she still loves him.

But hedoesn’t notice her dress.

Hehasn’t noticed her dress for the past 7 months, ever since she told him thatshe loved him. He calls her twice a night to tell her about his day. Sometimeshe talks about other women. She smiles with her lips pursed. It’s forced, justlike her tears were.

Thewindow is cracked and it’s cold cold cold in the car. I’m not smoking and Idon’t need the window down. I clench my knees together tighter and listen more.

Sheshows me a poem she wrote about a dream – dreams that are fleeting andflitting. She turns on a song about getting over someone. We both know she’snot trying, though.

He’llcome around and see what he’s been missing.

It’slonelier to long for someone who doesn’t long back. She knows that if sheturned away from him she would be totally alone but so free, content maybe forthe first time in a while. But she can’t do that.

She’llwear a hopeful dress tomorrow and she’ll make sure he remembers to call hismother to wish her a happy birthday. She’ll squeeze his knee and he’ll getangry, but oh, it was just an accident.

Shecloses the window.

In amoment she laughs a bitter laugh, rolls it down, and lights another cigarette. Bythe time he does come around she’s not healthy enough to care.

two hundred. nine.

2012-02-06T20:11:00.000-06:00

Took Kanoa for a lovely walk today.
We got all bundled up
(well, I did)
and walked to the sledding hill and sat at the top.
Kanoa takes wide open spaces to mean reckless frolicking
so i sat on the bench and watched her
then raced her to the bottom of the hill.
She won.
Sheffield was quite distraught being left at home.
Precious.

Started ANOTHER book.
But I've put it away now, for the time being.
Just a book of essays.
So easy to just read a chapter or two.

Not very far yet into Pagan Christianity.
At times I feel vastly unprepared for topics like this & like others.
Tend to give up a little.
This time I'm trying to pair the book with similar study, like studying Acts and the early church, listening to lectures on church history, etc. That way I feel more rounded in what I learn, not just reading a book.
I'll be honest and say that it's easy for me to do a poor job of it.
I'll quit reading altogether for a week or two because I feel quite at a loss at conflicting opinions, at things I don't know.
Something to work on.
I'm not to have a spirit of fear.

A woman who gets a small latte with no lid and no sleeve sat and talked with me for a bit last week.
[Do you see what her drink says about her?
She doesn't like waste.
Usually she'll bring her own mug, but this time she forgot.]
She is the sweetest lady ever, and I'm probably not exaggerating.
She is that earth mother type, you know? A little off the wall, very peaceful, soft smiles, etc.
When I asked her if she made any New Years Resolutions she replied with: "I believe that every moment is new."
Which meant no.
We chatted some more.
I would say something
she would agree
she would say something
i would hastily nod.
Interesting how two people with vastly different belief systems can be so alike on certain things.
At one point though, I was talking about how much I loved working at the coffee shop and she said she understood. She told me about how she used to work at a coffee shop too, and loved it because of how she would see herself in others, just like how she saw herself in me.
"Namaste."
And it struck me how that was such a self-centered concept.
Even though I'll admit I'm a pretty selfish person, I can honestly say that I have never loved working at a coffee shop for that reason.
I love the people for who they are, for their angels and their demons, for lessons learned, for stories, goodness, don't I love the stories the best.
& how delightfully unique yet similar they are, sleepy persons who walk through that door.
I don't look at them to then turn inward.
There are many things that make me self-aware, conscious. You know? It imprisons you, yet of course you know because we are all caught there sometimes.
Hummm...
Not quite sure if that all makes sense.
This could miles longer, I could start talking about art & music & other things.
It just struck me, sort of. You have this idea of namaste, of bowing to the divinity in each other but it just becomes a glorification of yourself.

Anyhow, if you've made it here, now go and read this. Thought it was interesting.
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/01/opinion/sunday/the-joy-of-quiet.html?pagewanted=all
I'm off to eat some chunky monkey ice cream before heading to bed.
Hope you're sleeping tight.

two hundred. eight.

2012-02-01T20:53:00.001-06:00

We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known. -Carson McCullers[This reminded me of Ireland & heaven, though I'm starting to think they might be one and the same?]
I have issues with reading several books simultaneously.

Right now:

I was reading Jane Eyre and The Four Loves, but then I also started to read A Moveable Feast [Hemingway] and Pagan Christianity [Viola/Barna].

The last two are probably taking priority right now.

I love Hemingway, have decided I need to read more.

I've just started Pagan today, looks fascinating.

This was a good weekend, filled with friends and a little bit of Jameson, little bit of Steph's feet in my face, an art show, red jeans, reading, fellowship, coconut chocolate chip cliff bars and the buying of promising concert tickets.

Fridays at work are funny [I know this is old news]

Every Friday we're used to the old & crazy, a father and son duo, though the son is more of a silent crazy.

They come in on other days too, sometimes Tuesdays.

I bring out a sandwich to a lady sitting in one of the comfy chairs and I see their car pull in.

"They're here!" I call back to Ash.

She knows who I'm talking about and so do all of the other Friday regulars.

"Man your battle stations!" Laughs the woman who sits in the corner and spins yarn [she really does, she brings in the whole shebang and sits and spins. She said she would teach me!]

I rush to the back and we try and get everything started before they walk in. It's usually coffee, a caramel latte, an oatmeal, a cheddar and herb bagel.
If we don't have everything ready, they start to show an inwardly frantic impatience as they wait. They begin fidgeting. We tell them to go and have a seat but they aren't quite at ease until drinks and food sit in front of them.
The father is known to get quite crazy, yelling and screaming, showing paintings he did to customers, spreading out sheet music everywhere (before he got kicked out of the band) telling other customers corny jokes, etc.
Today, though, he is muted, coming in and immediately showing us how he is locking his mouth up with a key and throwing it away. He does this several times. His son must have told him to pipe down (he gets quite embarrassed by the rambling and shouting his father does).
This is a low key day. He doesn't ask me to wash his teeth. He doesn't come up and demand a cup by saying: "INEEDACUP! YOUKNOWWHATACUPIS? INEEDACUPRIGHTNOW! CUPCUPCUPCUP!" He doesn't say anything about how he was a toolmaker and he understands the pressures I go through. Almost disappointing.
When they leave, someone announces it, but not in a mean way. We enjoy their mad company.
Any mad company, really, isn't all that bad.

two hundred. seven.

2012-01-11T22:03:00.000-06:00

Waking up is rough. I hate those first five minutes. Everything is unwilling.

Even Kanoa groans about getting up. She looks so precious and sleepy. I debate between going to work and curling back up.

I find myself staring at random objects for a length of time without realizing time is passing.

Get moving.

Once I'm up it's better.

The chilly morning air wakes me up once I step outside.

My constant paranoia of deer keep my eyes wide open. It's true, ever since I hit that deer a few months back I feel like all of the other deer watch me. I jump and brake suddenly at signs on the side of the road.

I might eventually go crazy.

A sigh of relief when I arrive at work. I'm alive. Deer are alive.

I begin the bustle of opening up.

The first thing I notice:

Ash left her stache on our 3 hole punch.

Second thing I notice:

Aw, Roy left us a nice note.

Lately it's been Cole Porter radio joining me in the morning.

Pull baking, count change, evaluate numbers from the day before, pull shots, turn on signs.

Those first shots help wake me up too. The air instantly changes.

Mmm.

I make a latte.

Mmm.

I eat some homemade granola.

It's the best batch yet: oats, pumpkin seeds, almonds, pecans, honey, brown sugar, cranberries, raisins, flax seeds & more goodness. I could eat it all day.

Several customers come and go. One man is always so nice, he just moved here from Montreal and is looking for a house for him and his wife. He always gets espresso [2 or 4 shots, depending] with foam on top. This is a classy staple drink. It says something about a person.

He says "Ciao" when he leaves. I contemplate saying it back, but chicken out.

The morning is in full swing. I catch a glimpse of the sunrise.

I love these sunrises, though I wouldn't mind some snow.

Towards the afternoon, a delivery comes.

Glorious! More tea! I love new tea days. They don't come often, but when they do, the aromas are intoxicating. The top right is an Irish Morning, bottom right is a Green/White tea blend, bottom left is Gojiberry Pomegranate Green with Sencha leaves and top left is a lovely new Formosa Oolong. Heaven.

Earl Grey tea guy comes in. He still wants Earl Grey tea, no new teas for him. He smells like the man who scratches his day old beard when he's ordering, it makes a surprisingly loud noise.

Butterscotch Caramel Latte lady comes in, she comes in pretty much every day. She didn't used to smell so much like smoke, but you can tell she's smoking more and smiling less. I wonder if the holidays were actually good as she said they were, or if like some she replies simply and vaguely at our polite queries because she has nothing positive to say. She also stares more at things, like I do in the mornings. Maybe she's just tired.

I do a lot of speculating at our customers.

Bible Study Friday guy, for instance, who has quite a lot to say so early in the morning. He's opinionated. He also seems to have very tight muscles because he's constantly doing lunges and stretches. He'll be talking to me, having a conversation at the horrors of materialism at Christmas and how he loves how his children took days to open up their gifts to show their appreciation for each and every one. While he's talking and sharing touching moments, he is standing with feet wide apart and leaning from side to side with his hands in the air.

Strange.

If I am the object of a sociological experiment where people do things outside of the norm to judge the response, then yes, I find that to be a strange thing and uncomfortably flee to the back room as soon as possible to avoid another stretching session. I don't know quite what to do when he starts crouching on the floor or touching his toes.

I suppose I could always just ask him.

Just a plain old "What are you doing?" might do the trick.

Maybe next time.

two hundred. six.

2012-01-02T19:00:00.000-06:00

This is going to be a bit of a picture post.

[they are just from my phone, so nothing special.]

I snuck this one of Pappy in a Starbucks.

This is JoJo. He is at that stage where he is too adorable for his own good, and one day we'll look back at these pictures and tell him he used to be so cute. He was using that bowl as a hat and singing "Twinkle Twinkle." Precious.

One of my favorite Christmas presents.

Ringing in the new year with some of my favorite ladies. We had a classy party at Steph's house, too much fun. We decorated her basement and she made gobs of food - all in all one of the best New Years I've had.

I already miss "It's A Wonderful Life" and Bing Crosby and all of the excuses to eat Christmas cookies.

Tonight I had a first go at making homemade pizza with homemade pizza dough and all that. Listened to Feist, she's good cooking music. Turned out pretty well except that by the time I was finished I wasn't very hungry. Does that ever happen to you? It smelled delicious though, I'll munch on some later. I do love cold pizza anyhow.

This afternoon I went & sat at Starbucks (cake pop? yes.) after work and made a list of 12 things for 2012. It's good for me to sit and make goals, I'm one who does well with lists. I feel like I get more accomplished when I begin each season with a new list, and then each month with a new list, and sometimes each day. That might seem overboard, but usually it's just simple things that once I write them down they become more real or pressing. Otherwise if I haven't told myself to clean my room or keep up on correspondence in a moment of clarity, I'll conveniently forget it later on when I would like to be lazy.

Kanoa is sleeping on my feet. I need to run out to my car but it's just too cozy right here.

Today I had to sit in my car when I first got home and write down some things that I thought of when I was driving. Sometimes that happens to me, and I feel like I've just been struck by genius and need to write it down immediately because it's so profound.

Usually I read them again later sort of confused about what all the hub-bub was about.

Sometimes, though, they are actually interesting.

Speaking of my car, remember how I always drive sitting way forward? I realized that I was doing that again and laughed.

two hundred. five.

2011-12-23T15:31:00.001-06:00

I'd like to live a while longer in these last 2 weeks.
Go back and do it again.
Several times.
Oh, the people, places & things.
The past two days I've found myself driving home from work smiling because I simply feel quite content and blessed.
Truly grand to walk into a chilly building at a brisk 5:30 a.m., crank up the heat, turn on Matthew and the Atlas "Come out of the Woods" and pull shots of espresso.
Then grand to switch to the Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble singing Christmas songs and chatting with customers about all sorts of things. It's been a fine time at work.

Outside of work too.
Seeing movies with family, cooking, cleaning, organizing, shopping, wrapping, warm naps.
Dates with pappy, wine, eggnog,
There is much to be grateful for.

If you're looking for beautiful things, hunt around the Kinfolk Magazine website. I downloaded some free music and saw some nice pictures. kinfolkmag.com
I also deepened my desire for small, simple gatherings with close friends. Let's do it. You can ride over on your bicycle with the basket since we haven't had a snow yet. Just bundle up, bring some stories, a candle and some good hard cider. We'll make merry.

two hundred. four.

2011-12-09T20:07:00.001-06:00

I saw anold man on a bicycle, peddling down the sidewalk, disappearing as my car passedhim. He was wearing a cap and singing a song, and for some reason it juststruck me as something sort of extraordinary.

Everyday things are strange and wonderful. We've grown so accustomed to the extraordinary that we no longer are awed.

I wish things were still a mystery.

I stilllong to stare at things and wonder.

I thinksome of my favorite things – my favorite songs, poems, words, pictures – are animplication. Just a nod.

A nod ina direction, and if you tried too hard to grab on to it and bring it into thelight so that you could see it quite clearly, it would swiftly flee. It lendsitself to understanding that what remains unsaid are powerful words.

There aresome things you must let others see for themselves without telling them how tosee it.

Every Friday I see my Friday customers and I always am shocked to find myself at the end of the week again. Never fails. Even though things are fast-paced in life & work I'm enjoying the cozy Christmas-y moments whenever I can grab them. Rosie Thomas is singing holiday tunes right now and it's lovelylovelylovely. I've decorated at work a good deal including make some hand-crafted snowflakes & paper chains [we do love our paper crafts]. I've been doing some knitting/crocheting/sewing [until my machine pooped out on me].

I'm thinking these days of words that start with T.

tethered & tension.

it makes sense.

Yesterday I saw a man in Walgreens.
He was older, dressed in an overcoat and wearing glasses. He looked like he had just gotten off work and was picking up something sweet and heart-shaped to bring home. Soft, jazzy Christmas music played in the background and he stared at the chocolates as I passed him the first time and then as I passed him again to go pay.
He had stopped thinking about the chocolates and was maybe thinking about who he was getting the chocolates for, or maybe why he was bringing them.
Or maybe he was just thinking about work, the day behind him.
Regardless, when we left he had stepped up to the counter to pay - no chocolates in his hand.
People make you wonder, don't they?

two hundred. three.

2011-11-30T20:05:00.001-06:00

Finally.

Four hours to spare!

50,087 words!

[Technically I'm not a winner because I didn't follow the exact guidelines. However, they say everyone is a winner. I'll buy into that, thanks.]

So looking forward to a bottle of wine tonight and making donuts tomorrow to celebrate.

two hundred. two.

2011-11-28T19:49:00.001-06:00

Only 3 days left of Nanowrimo (counting this evening).
Maintaining sanity by:
-Using Eggo waffles as a reward.
-Using the S. Carey/Hudson Branch concert this weekend as a reward.
-Taking sporadic dance party breaks.
-Planning various knitting/craft/cooking projects for December
-Anticipating having friends again.

[Just over 10,000 words to go.]

going to keep plugging away...

two hundred. one.

2011-11-10T16:40:00.001-06:00

A quick update before jumping back out.
George Eliot said: "Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns."

I can't help but feel the same. I should read more George Eliot because she also this about music: "I think I should have no other mortal wants, if I could always have plenty of music. It seems to infuse strength into my limbs and ideas into my brain. Life seems to go on without effort, when I am filled with music."

Recently it would be:
Chris & Thomas.
City and Colour
The Avett Brothers [always]
S. Carey
Sufjan Stevens

We share some common thoughts, George Eliot and I.
It's like a secret thread.

Have you read that quote? I absolutely love it [do read it all]:
“You may have noticed that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. You know very well what is the common quality that makes you love them, though you cannot put it into words: but most of your friends do not see it at all, and often wonder why, liking this, you should also like that. Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life; and then turned to the friend at your side who appears to be seeing what you saw -- but at the first words a gulf yawns between you, and you realise that this landscape means something totally different to him, that he is pursuing an alien vision and cares nothing for the ineffable suggestion by which you are transported. Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of -- something, not to be identified with, but always on the verge of breaking through, the smell of cut wood in the workshop or the clap-clap of water against the boat's side? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it -- tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest -- if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself -- you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say "Here at last is the thing I was made for". We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are, this is. If we lose this, we lose all.”
When I'm not writing copiously I am reading too. I just finished "Crazy for God" and well on my way through Tim Keller's new marriage book, just for kicks.

And I made this:

Clearly, super pumped about it. It's a headband, in case there is any confusion from my poor quality webcam.
All in all, a productive first ten days of November. I'm a little behind in nanowrimo but I'll catch up.
Anyhow, this seems like just a pretend post because the majority of the words were not my own.

Two Hundred.

2011-10-27T21:32:00.001-05:00

This will probably be the last blog post for a while.
In preparation of really sitting down and writing for a month [providing my follow through is the best it ever has been. agh.], I've been trying to squeeze in a bunch this week.
This evening I finally sliced up the 300 pound zucchini we've had sitting on our table for forever, donned an apron and made 6 loaves of bread with it.
Surprise, there is enough zucchini left to still feed a small country.
I told Taylor to maybe plant a few less next year.
Just a few.

I also turned some sweaters into these infinity scarves I saw online a few days ago. Sew some sweater sleeves together...boom. Infinity scarf. That was delightfully easy for my brain. At times I ponder at great length over sewing instructions, so fortunately this was a breeze.
Note: I just spelled breeze "brease."
Past my bedtime.

Last night I started making this delightful fish dish that turned freaking fantastic.
Initially though, Sheffield, that loathsome creature, decided to hop on the table and eat four pieces of the fish while I was out of the room for literally 90 seconds.
Or less.
Needless to say I was quite angry.
However, it all turned out just dandy, if an hour later than expected so we could defrost more fish.

Early this week one of our favorite customers passed away. He'd been sick for a while, although initially it had come out of nowhere.
He used to read his epic poems at open mic night. He had large, wise eyes and a white mustache, always the friendliest and kindest man, moving tables at the end of the night for us.
After we found out, we drank a cup of Moroccan mint tea with lots of honey for him.

This weekend I'll be celebrating Lauren being off chemo [huzzah!!], helping host a Breast Cancer Fundraiser and attending a wedding.
I might sleep a little somewhere.

This morning I had a chocolate chip cookie for breakfast.
Oh.
It was good.

one hundred. ninety nine.

2011-10-20T16:44:00.000-05:00

So. Hit a deer a few days ago.
I'm driving and I see one on my right
So I slow down and keep an eye on him
and don't even see his buddy leap in front of my car from the left.
[in all reality, this might be a case of the deer hitting me.]

I thought my car was trashed because it was 3:45 in the morning on my way to work and everything looked grim and terrible, but it was able to get fixed. The hood is still in terrible shape.

My Dad told me at least now I won't be picking up guys in that car.
Drat.
I spent so much time doing that before, it's going to completely alter my life.
I told that to the cook next door and he confirmed.
"You see a girl in a car like that, you stay away. She's crazy, hitting things like that."
Thanks Fernando.
Not the first time he's called me crazy.
He told me that if it had been on the side that would have been cool. Cool girls race their friends and hit the curb, causing minimal damage.
Crazy girls ram a deer head on and keep driving that car, busted hood and all.
Good to know where I land on the cool vs. crazy scale. Totally bonkers.

Been playing through my "Ukulele For Dummies" book. Great fun.
I also just finished knitting the best hat ever.
Me.
Knitting a hat.
It's like I just finished climbing a mountain. I am victorious.

Speaking of climbing, I also just booked a weekend trip in the Ozarks next April with the lovely engaged couple and Tai. Bopping around, camping, climbing.
And I signed up for NANOWRIMO i.e. national novel writing month. November will be interesting, that's for sure. You will probably never hear from me. I don't know if anyone will ever hear from me.
So many things that I'm doing.
Often I end up feeling like I'm not doing enough.
There is so much more that I'd like to reach out my fingers and hold on to.

one hundred. ninety eight.

2011-10-14T16:55:00.001-05:00

Lately I've been thinking about the things we lose when we gain convenience.
I don't think my fascination with things old are just because i like old things, i think we have a longing for things that are lost when words that define what we are looking for are:
streamlined or
efficient or
consistent or
convenient.
you know?

Yesterday Nors and I saw Ben Rector.
Absolute genius.
That's a talented man in a bow tie.
Such fun times in the city, getting a bit lost and arriving a bit late.
On the way home, to make up for it, we played the game of never stopping for a red light.
Not to say we blazed through the red lights.
But when we came upon one we'd creep as slowly as possible to avoid stopping the car but still staying roughly behind the line.
Hilarious at 1 in the morning.
This morning we woke up and lazed about before making a massive dutch apple pancake and devouring nearly all 4 servings of it.

The puppies are asleep, snoring and snuffling.
About to head out to the creperie to meet up with Pappy.
It's been a completely unproductive day.
Most lovely.

Anyone up for climbing around the Ozarks with me?

one hundred. ninety seven.

2011-10-10T15:16:00.000-05:00

Randomly stumbled across this photo today:

No, I did not spend the next several minutes searching images of Michael Caine.

No, I don't have a mini-crush.

Not at all.

one hundred. ninety six.

2011-10-09T20:14:00.001-05:00

If you've read this blog for any time at all, really, you'll know that I talk about simplicity, long for simplicity, try and live simply to a certain extent.
I read this quote recently by Shane Claiborne and it made me think about the motivation behind my desire:

"When we talk of materialism and simplicity, we must always begin with the love for God and neighbor, otherwise we're operating out of little more than legalistic, guilt-ridden self-righteousness. Our simplicity is not an ascetic denunciation of material things to attain personal piety, for if we sell all that we have and give it to the poor, but have not love, it is meaningless (1 Cor. 13:3). And there are many progressive liberals who have taught me that we can live lives of disciplined simplicity and still be distant from the poor. We can eat organic, have a common pool of money, and still be enslaved to Mammon. Rather than being bound up by how much stuff we need to buy, we can get enslaved to how simply we must live.
Simplicity is meaningful only inasmuch as it is grounded in love, authentic relationships, and interdependence."

Sometimes I think I enjoy simplicity only for the sake of simplicity, for the sake of something more "peaceful" instead of looking at it through the eyes of scripture, beginning it with my love for God and neighbor.

On a final note, I enjoyed this today from Oswald Chambers:

"The Redemption of Christ is not an experience, it is the great act of God which He has performed through Christ, and I have to build my faith upon it. If I construct my faith on my experience, I produce that most unscriptural type, an isolated life, my eyes fixed on my own whiteness. Beware the piety that has no pre-supposition in the Atonement of the Lord."

one hundred. ninety five.

2011-10-06T20:16:00.000-05:00

Baked an apple pie and am listening to Laura Marling.
Well, it's still baking. We'll see if ends up tasting anything like an apple pie.
I'm certain it won't look like one.
Guess who gives up when confronted with a crust?
This girl.
So, botched the crust, but the filling looks yummy.
You win some, you lose some.

We have a new dog. His name is Sheffield.
He's a puggle.
His bottom teeth stick out so he always looks tough/absurd.
Unless he's sleeping.
Remember that one time I fell asleep on the beach and started nose whistling? Sheffield does that all the time when he's sleeping. Either that or an exaggerated snorting snore. Which is awesome because it's not like my biggest pet peeve is nose breathers.
[Oh wait, it definitely is.]
Such a peaceful pup.
He also makes a lot of noise when he's just standing in one place.
Apparently breathing is a challenge for this dog.
He's quite the character, though, and after hating him for the first 30 hours, I'm a little in love with him.

One funny thing about Sheffield is that he is the least subtle creature.
Kanoa is big, so she can be subtle about things. Stealing food from the table means just inching closer very slowly until she can rest her head on the table and slyly steal your bread without you noticing.
Sheffield just has to commit and act fast. He's too short for subtle.
He's sees food.
He leaps
grabs
and runs.
Pretty hilarious.

Pie update: Smells great, looks wretched.

I know I wrote a post ages ago about bathroom etiquette. I'd like to revisit that oh-so-briefly.
In addition to knocking on every bathroom door you intend to enter
another good habit to practice would be hanging up your phone before you pop in to the stall next to me.
Or any stall, really.
Or the bathroom at all. Just hang up. Call them back.
Or hold it.
Pick one.
Thanks much.

one hundred. ninety four.

2011-09-26T21:00:00.001-05:00

& it's true
my branches they turn to you
asking you, do you love me too?

^it resonates and i am struck like a drum. still humming.
I like Alessi's Ark.
And Laura Marling.
I saw them in concert on Thursday and it was just so lovely, so much talent! So much british accent fun! Can't get enough.
I'll be going back to that space to see Ben Rector soon with Nors, which will be amazing.

Today I put all my summer clothes in boxes and brought out my sweaters.
Good riddance!
Ready for this lovely lovely weather. I didn't even mind the rain today, just bundled up and wore my summer shoes for the last time. In the box they go! Huzzah!
Rosie Thomas is perfect for rainy mornings, so I listened to her very early on the way to work.
One of her Christmas songs randomly played and I was filled with an inexpressible flash of Christmas joy. Nearly bawled like a crazy person briefly, but I kept it together.
Apparently we'll be having more rain these next few days.
This gives you a nice opportunity to turn on some Rosie. Take advantage of it.

I keep a notebook by my bed and I've been scribbling in it nightly.
It's either genius or rubbish.
I see no middle ground.
There rarely is, I suppose.
I usually find middle ground to be rubbish anyhow, because it's neither here nor there.

Sarah colored my hair red over the weekend.
That girl.
I was thinking more of a subtle red, more brown than anything,
but she picked out a RED color.
So, we did it.
I'm grateful for the ways she pushes me.
[And I do mean in other ways besides coloring my hair.]
She's an excellent friend to have around.
We have some adventures.
We also have some wine.

Anyhow.
More than anything I feel like going for a bike ride.
You game?
Tomorrow then, we'll be off, rain or shine.
We'll bring our umbrellas and hot chocolate in a thermos.

one hundred. ninety three.

2011-09-20T20:37:00.003-05:00

::Visual interest post::

I could ramble on & on about work.

So here are things not work related.

Decided to clean up my crafty yarn area [a total wreck] & i found this sort of lopsided piece.

Rather than finishing my cleaning, I did this.

Sidenote: for some reason I think grey on grey is hilarious. I always chuckle a little to myself. I also realize that it's unusually flattering pairing a cardigan with sweatpants.

I also did this. Completely unoriginal. Found it on a blog. Loved it. Copied it.

Another one.

My mom commented that I should put up family pictures instead of random people I don't know from ages ago.

However, I like random people I don't know.

I have also been making friends with this machine. Although seemingly idiot proof, I have a knack for getting lost in the bobbins and bits. Such a patient, lovely machine though. Does most of the work. I'm taking a sewing e-course and made my first project without a hitch. Success!

One of my 4 suitcases of tricks. By "tricks" I mean random crap that is thrown in there with the hopes of creating something interesting. Most of it has been sitting there for eons, although that top layer is relatively new.

My keys! Found them at the flea market. Had to have them.

Jolly fun. Laura Marling concert on Thursday which I am just wriggling with excitement over, followed by a weekend with Sarah.We plan on crafting, going to art shows and apple orchards and maybe making a batch of homemade chai.

Have I mentioned that fall is my favorite?

one hundred. ninety two.

2011-09-12T22:07:00.002-05:00

When things get confusing, I often think of running.
Not necessarily away from
or towards
but just running.

I try to reach my hands out & hold on to too many different things
which gets confusing.
Plus
when you are holding on to things in all directions
you don't make very much progress in any of them.
you know?

There was a weary man in the shop the other day.
He lost his job.
His voice was chipper when he ordered his coffee
Oh,
he'll make do.
He'll get by.
He sat down in the leather chair to read his book.
Ahh.
Relaxation.
Unemployment isn't so bad.
But his eyes weren't reading.
they were watching
and staring.
He was focusing on everything
& nothing all at once.
I smiled at him on my way out the door.
He didn't smile back, lost in thought.
Middle-aged, alone and jobless.
This isn't how it's supposed to be.

She gets giddy when she thinks of him
when he calls
when he walks in the door.
He returns none of her affection
and shrugs off her touch.
When she is driving
she is sad.
she takes long drags off cheap cigarettes
smoothing her hopeful skirt
hopeful that he will for once take notice.
He doesn't.
One more cigarette while she waits for his call.
Young, spirited and lonely.
This isn't how it's supposed to be.

At times I am struck motionless and near thoughtless by the sheer, overcrowding JOY of life. Those moments hold too much, I am nearly lifted off the ground, they carry me.

Other times I am struck by the weight of things decidedly...askew. It can be unsettling. They catch me off-guard, like the man in the chair who suddenly seemed to be the saddest picture in this world, sadder than hungry children in Africa you see in those commercials.

When I end posts like this I often feel like I should end with something "Christian," like - "good thing I find my hope in the Lord." or some Bible verse or inspirational quote. And even though these are all very good and true, I don't want to use it as a band-aid. Some little affected tidbit.
I know, innately, where my hope lies. I recognize longings as restlessness searching for Him. I see that my desire to see things right is not chance and it's not my doing.
But I also know that not all thoughts end in Bible verses. It doesn't always seem genuine, or fitting, to close off as such. The weight needs to settle in a little. It makes the joy in the morning that much more joyful. Moments of grace are truer and more beautiful. This, I am thankful for.

one hundred. ninety one.

2011-09-07T20:36:00.000-05:00

I feel like the autumn is my spring. I feel reborn once cooler weather hits.
My steps are lighter, I drink warm soy chai and generally feel an overwhelming sense of joy.
It hasn't even been that cool, but when I leave for work at 5 a.m. it's nice and chilly.
Which has incidentally made me realize that the heat in my car doesn't work.
Sort of a killjoy, but I won't let it spoil my delight in busting out my fall boots and mittens.

I've been working my patookie off and dealing with fun customers who say things like:
"So, you know how to run a business, right?"
This is the same guy who makes us put cream cheese on his bagel for him as he stands there and fill us in on his wretched life. He used to be big. His cd was sold in Best Buy. What a hotshot.
Now he has a one gagillion square foot house all to himself. What a drag.

I've been trying to split my time up between doing "manager" things at work, doing fun customer stuff at work and getting my crafty-craft on to make the place more homey.
I am realizing very quickly how delicate this balance is.
Also, so enjoying it.
I put The Weepies and David Gray and The Head and the Heart on our coffee house playlist so I listen to good tunes while cutting out felt leaves.
Sometimes I can't believe how fortunate I am.

Yesterday I wrote a song about quilts while driving in the car and recorded it on my phone on the way home.
I think this means that I am anxious to test out my new sewing machine, but have been way too busy to touch it. It's sitting so hopeful on my desk.

Renegade craft fair on Saturday. Someone hide my wallet, please.

one hundred. ninety.

2011-08-30T15:46:00.001-05:00

I have been jamming to The Avett Brothers every morning on the way to work lately.
They are extremely fantastic.
For a long time I was never in the mood for anything Avett Brothers except the song "I and Love and You" but then I slowly started branching out with "The Ballad of Love and Hate" and "Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise." Now I'm just listening to them as a whole. Good stuff.

Today, Soy Latte Jason was telling me that I am the most random person he knows.
[I feel like this is a slow decline, because I used to be the most interesting person he knew.]
We were talking about how I went line dancing last week
& then how last night I couldn't decide between crocheting or making granola.
Apparently this is random to him, although for me it seems pretty natural. Also kind of a lame set of choices: nap, crochet or make granola. I love it.
I threw nap in there because honestly it's always an option.
I ended up making buckets of granola. Just buckets. I could feed a small army off of this fantastic granola. I mixed recipes from a book my mom had lying around and a recipe from this site: http://www.todaysletters.com/ [such a darling couple. to find the granola look under the recipes section.]

Hannah stopped in to visit me today. :]
So lovely to have visitors, brightened up my day.

Have I mentioned the most exciting news recently? Probably not, I always leave out the good stuff. Several weeks ago two of my favorite people got engaged.

I can't believe I'm only mentioning it now.
So looking forward to their wedding/having Steph around always.

one hundred. eighty nine.

2011-08-25T19:39:00.000-05:00

hello, responsibility.
Being the co-manager of a little independent coffee shop seems like it might be a chill atmosphere with that subtle coffee shop glamour, but this first week has just been absolutely mad.
It started with waking up at 3 for grease trap cleaning on monday and working an 11 hour day.
Nothing glamorous about 3 in the morning.
For the record, 3a.m. still counts as nighttime in my book.
Getting to work at 5:30 the other mornings: wonderful. Just before the sun rises.
So far this week we've been working on damage control from the previous manager as well as trying to get ahead of the game for fall/the holidays.
One day we'll get settled into the swing of things. We long for those days and we talk about how fun it's going to be when we can do little things like spend a night decorating for Christmas.
That time is not now. Now it's just crazy and I miss being stressed because I didn't get sandwiches prepped before the end of my shift.

Some good things: I just bought a ticket to Laura Marling & Alessi's Ark coming to Chicago. Yes, please. I want to see S. Carey in December too. Yes?
Went line dancing with some fine folks last night, which was a ball. I may not be the best at line dancing, but it's jolly good times anyhow.
I'm ready to start crocheting. I get so excited for fall every year, it makes me want to do all of my favorite things like read, write, sing, crochet, hibernate, lark about & bear hug.

one hundred. eighty eight.

2011-08-21T19:08:00.000-05:00

The documentary "Running Across the Sahara"
combined with the 50% off Patagonia sale has made me strongly desire to be an outdoor adventure kind of person.
If, someday, you find me hiking hundreds of miles, climbing mountains, kayaking or biking, this will have been the beginning.
Officially.
But really, how thrilling does that sound?

one hundred. eighty seven.

2011-08-21T00:25:00.001-05:00

hello my whirlwind life.
just when things look as if they are heading one way
wa-bam
they head the other direction entirely.

so much to tell.
it would be better if we had hours and some coffee/tea with nutella on toast.
to sum up a small portion:

i went from long hair to this [i've wanted to for ages]:

sort of a crazy transition. the really strange part was when the hairstylist handed me my ponytail, hair and all. also the fact that my hairstylist was the wife of a boy i grew up with. small, small world.

also, i am now the co-manager of the coffee shop that i work at. initially, i was leaving that job and moving to another coffee shop as of last Friday, but everything took a sort of mad turn and ended up with me staying on as morning manager and the assistant manager moving to evening manager.
such things. such long stories.
in the middle of everything i took a glorious vacation to michigan with some of my favorite people ever, especially bonding with several lovely ladies that i think i will just adore for the rest of my life. rarely am i so moved, so challenged, sing so loud, dance so much, laugh so hard, feel so free as i do with these girls in that place.
now autumn is just around the corner & i'm welcoming it with open arms and so much hope.
hoping you are too.

one hundred. eighty six.

2011-08-01T21:07:00.000-05:00

Let's just have a brief conversation about how much fun the rodeo was.
[So fun.]
I've never been to anything quite like it, but it made me want to move out to some southern state with these people for neighbors.
Just a little bit.
Also, seeing all the little boy spectators running around with their trick ropes just reinforces my desire to have a pack of boys. Just heaps of them. Funny little boys, yes please.
I ended up not going to the city. Shall hit it up next time.

I'm actually typing this at my desk [splendid!] with a glass of cheap red wine, feeling quite sophisticated.
Our room is something like clean, so it makes it so much more enjoyable.
I am also listening to Bon Iver [what else is new?]. Enjoyable.
There is a certain sort of lovely about times like these.
"Times likes these" seems to be times where I feel like Winnie the Pooh.
That is literally the first thing I thought of.
I just want to to bear hug someone
and hum
and say things like:
"Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon."
Or:
"If you live to be 100, I hope to live to 100 minus 1 day, so that I never have to live without you."
Yes, I did just google Winnie the Pooh quotes to ensure that Winnie the Pooh was indeed what I was feeling like. After reading 6 pages of quotes, I can confirm it.
[& a bit hopeful. i feel like that old bear is a hopeful fellow.]

Just days until Michigan
& Michigan cherries
& Michigan dunes
Today a customer came in with a little container for us full of blueberries he picked just yesterday in Michigan.
quite delicious. I just love our customers.
This guy always comes in with another guy, and they sit and talk about football and how their wives are the exact same.
There is always some funny frustration in one or both of those topics.
Keeps us entertained.

I've been listening to a little bit of fitz & the tantrums, getting my groove on while I'm driving. I love free daytrotter sessions.

one hundred. eighty five.

2011-07-28T12:01:00.000-05:00

The internet has pooped out at our house, so I'm mooching off the internet at the coffee shop and listening to Frank Sinatra sing "My Kind of Town."
It's always rough to sit at work and try and get things done when I've clocked out because inevitably I start talking to customers who walk in. Or they start talking to me. Either way - it's not an effective plan if I want to get work done.

Speaking of coffee shops, my Dad & I went on a coffee shop tour in Wilmette/Evanston/Chicago a few days ago. That was super fantastic, plus I got to drink a ton of coffee and espresso. If you need coffee shop recommendations in those areas, I've got it covered. And take me with you.

The other day, at work, medium iced mocha Mike came in wearing a shirt and tie. He's usually a jeans and t-shirt guy, he drops his daughter off at daycare right before he comes, so I commented on how he looked dapper and asked him what he was up to.
In the most solemn fashion and with a straight face he said:
"I'm going to bury someone."
Pause. We're staring at each other.
Then I remembered that Mike works at a funeral home, so I laughed a single laugh and said: "Oh."
Then Mike laughed pretty hard.
"But seriously, I'm going to bury someone."
"I know you are. I believe you."
Mike has a sense of humor about his job. He says you've got to.

It's raining just a bit now.
I was supposed to go home and weed, but now I just want to go home, curl up and finish reading Stephen King's "On Writing." I already finished "The Omnivore's Dilemma," which left me fascinated with mushrooms. "On Writing" has been interesting. I've never read a Stephen King novel, but I'm enjoying his tips for writers and his quirky, honest look at how he became a writer.

Or maybe I'll bake some bread.
Last Sunday I baked a loaf from this book.
Orange Raisin Bagel Bread, something like that.
Yesterday I made some of the loaf into French Toast.
Yum!

Tomorrow I get to see the lovely Amanda who is coming into town!
This will be joyous. She is a dear heart who lives one million miles away.

Saturday I'll be heading to the city to look for antiques at the Randolph Street Market, and then back home for a rodeo. Yes. My first rodeo, and in my hometown to boot.
It will be quite a day with city-folk and then rodeo-folk. I just love people.
Apparently at the Randolph Street Market there will be an LP swap, antiques, indie designer market, and it's considered "the mecca of cool."
Sign me up.
Not sure if the rodeo is considered "the mecca of cool" but I wouldn't be surprised.

one hundred. eighty four.

2011-07-18T21:35:00.001-05:00

Few things top an evening like this, sweltering as it is.

For some reason I thought it would be a genius idea to crank up the oven & make these:

Behold, the beauty of chocolate zucchini cupcakes. Taylor and I are definitely going to have an excess of zucchini this year from the garden so we're trying to find creative ways to use it up besides handing it out to random strangers.

We've made mountains of zucchini bread in the past that just goes to waste, or we throw it into every pasta we eat, so this cupcake recipe was attempt number one to switch it up.

They are in the oven as I type.

Cross your fingers.

Also, someone (I think a random customer I was talking to about gardening...typical) told me a joke about zucchini: You know someone has no friends when they have no zucchini.

So. If you need a friend. Or some zucchini. I'm your girl.

On a side note, can't believe I just wrote a zucchini joke on here.

It's getting sad, folks.

On Saturday, Mumsie, Bethany & I went to this fabulous antique flea market where I spent some of my birthday moolah on old stuff. I love collecting bits of someone else's history & hanging it on my wall.

I think it's just the neatest thing.

So do lots of other people, older people, because we were outnumbered by people 50+. Some other young ragamuffins were hanging around too, so we didn't feel too conspicuous. But most of them were definitely older.

On that note, I feel like it would be appropriate to compile a list.

Things I do that older folks do:

Garden. Go to antique flea markets. Knit. Crochet. Go to bed early. Get up early. Complain. Listen to Frank Sinatra. Love me some nap time.

So far one of the only differences I see is that I keep my teeth in when I go to bed.

My AC is out in my car, so currently the only thing that is keeping me sane is listening to the sweet sounds of Josh Garrels and the mix cd that Nora made for me which features some Ben Rector. Never heard of him, but you can't stop this girl from dancing when she hears "The Beat" or "Dance with me Baby."

Also, Lucy Rose's "Night Bus." Magic.

And more.

Cupcakes are out. I'm going to label them a success.

one hundred. eighty three.

2011-07-15T16:39:00.001-05:00

Today at work there was the most darling little girl in with her mom and sister.
Her mom got some blended caramel butterscotch drink, her sister got a smoothie.
Meanwhile, this tiny fair-skinned, pixie cut blonde child was staring intensely at the list of teas. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9.
So maturely, she asked to smell several different teas. She had the biggest, most solemn blue eyes that just peeked over the counter. An old soul packed into this little bit of a girl.
After carefully smelling 3 different green teas, she chose the gojiberry pomegranate.
So adorable.

Lately, I've been doing a bit of this [I am including pictures to give this blog some visual interest. Ignore the terrible quality of my webcam.]:

I have written half of a song. I'm going to count it as my first, because the other one I made up was probably 12 years ago, and was dedicated to my mother. It went something like: "You're not perfect, you do cry. I guess you're normal just like I." Clearly I'm a genius with lyrics.

I have also been reading this fabulous book. I am finding it mucho interesting and it is giving me more gumption to follow through on living in a more sustainable way. Most of the time my gumption just falls back into reading about other people who are living that way, which makes me feel better because I begin to live vicariously through them. However, at the end of the day this is not effective. Ergo, hello canning trial & error this autumn.

I had a birthday! I celebrated by purchasing salmon for dinner, which was delightful and worth every penny. Where do I have to live to eat salmon every day? Because that's where I need to end up. My birthday also happened to be the day a zillion people lost power in my area, our family included. Happy Birthday to me.

Last night Bethany and I went to a dear little show at the Starline Gallery. They had this theater company come in and do "The Taming of the Shrew" in the wide open space on the first floor. I fell in love with the brick walls and big windows, we brought a blanket and some snacks because they wanted an "indoor Ravinia feel." Worked like a charm, except next time we'll bring chairs. The floor is a little rough halfway through a Shakespeare play. I've never seen/read the comedy, but found it delightful.

In my head I've been doing quite a bit of writing, gourmet cooking & training for a fierce obstacle course. In real life I spend too much time watching random documentaries on Netflix and staring at random objects while lost in thought.

one hundred. eighty two.

2011-06-27T21:54:00.001-05:00

I am currently obsessed with "Ulysses" by Josh Garrels. It is truly a thing of beauty. I listened to it as we were flying over hills/deserts on my first ever plane ride last week. It's the perfect traveling song - driving, flying, biking, sailing (naturally, since it's about sailing...). It just has that feel to it. You know?

So. My first ever plane ride!
I think I tend to make a big deal out of many things in my life. So many occasions strike me as momentous or especially enthralling.
While this is good for me because I end up rarely disappointed in life, to others it might appear that I am over-dramatic.
It's not like I'm spinning in circles with arms outstretched in the airport, singing. I was, however, one of the happiest people on that plane. That may have also been due to the fact that it was 5:10 in the morning; most people were tired & cranky.
The plane ride was probably not good for me, though. I gazed out the window for the longest time on high hills and stretches of land that I longed to visit. I like the west, there are a lot of open spaces and high peaks. I am restless and want to travel, want to walk those hills. I like visiting places an awful lot, I love seeing how other people do life. I'd especially like to get a passport and see how people do life outside of the states.

California is a neat place, and the wedding we went to was the most lovely. I've only been to several weddings that felt so right. It just spreads through the air as family and friends are happy for the union, encouraged by it even. It's something that sends people away with hope. Both sets of parents were so grateful to the other set for raising such a wonderful child. Jacob and Jenna are two of the sweetest people I know, it made for such a fun, joyful wedding, so centered around God and His work in their lives.

Another California adventure: fell asleep in the sun day one since I'd had relatively no sleep, so I burnt alive and was peeling pretty hideously by the time the wedding came around. It literally looked like I had some skin pigmentation problems. It didn't show up in pictures (I think?) but anyone who got too close to me gave me some funky stares.
We also did some of the things you're supposed to do, like go to In-N-Out Burger, watch the surfers on the pier, and visit the most beautiful park, Torrey Pines, which had a beach I'd like to live on. We also went to several fun, eclectic little places and little markets that were very dear or very strange. Really, one or the other.

Now it's back to the humdrum which I love so much. I returned to work to find that some customers hadn't come in since I'd left, then came in today for my first day back. Makes a girl feel pretty special.

one hundred. eighty one.

2011-06-17T23:41:00.000-05:00

Had the most girly evening with Bethany a few days ago: we padded around her new apartment in our bare feet & served up some pasta on old china. Then we hunkered down for an evening with Audrey Hepburn and fresh peach pie, finishing it all off with chatting over french press decaf. Delightful.

This week I've had sort of a mini vacation which turned mostly into catching up on things I haven't been doing, i.e. cleaning/weeding, plus catching up with friends and cheering up the dearest friend. Today I cleaned like a madwoman in the morning so that I could take a few hours to drive up to Lake Geneva in the afternoon. I soaked up some sun, read, napped like a kitten in the warmth, wrote a letter, perused shop windows...a few hours later I felt nearly brand new.

I start far too many books at one time. I've lost count of how many I'm reading presently.
I've been without my journal all week and have since felt the strongest urge to journal. Never mind that I have been slacking quite a bit on journaling, if I know I can't do something I really want to do it.
It's a destructive habit.
Also, it's just extremely disconcerting to be without my journal. Sometimes I write things and think "If this got published, I would probably be famous."
But, most times it's rubbish, embarrassing rubbish at that.

I always comment anonymously on other blogs, but when people comment anonymously here I get so inquisitive. Backwards, I know. Serves me right for trying to be mysterious/too afraid.

It's been a good while. Sometimes if I feel especially vulnerable I won't write because I feel like I'll betray something. I don't even write in my journal.

This is bad because then periods of vulnerability go undocumented. I might glean something if I learned to write honestly and carefully during those times.

I should also install a recording device in my car, because I frequently talk things out there as I drive, which I think might be humorous in about 20 years.

Last thing: Tonight I took vanilla ice cream and put on dark chocolate shavings and pecans. For some reason I felt like a total genius. It was delicious, by the way.

one hundred. eighty.

2011-05-16T17:05:00.000-05:00

Hello, summer.
Weeks ago Alex and I hunted down spring buds on bushes in the forest preserve, and today I come home and notice that my yard is shady and cool because the trees have become full of leaves.
It usually happens like that, I see the beginnings but always miss the middle of spring. Tulips leaves just barely push out of the ground, so I rejoice, but I miss the middle and catch them once they've bloomed.
Today I struggled and huffed and puffed, pushing our ancient broken lawnmower over our yard which out of nowhere turned into a field of grass & dandelions, probably rivaling the lush greens of the Amazon. Probably. Then I proceeded to weed around some ferns and strawberry plants that run along the edge of our driveway. To keep me company I decided play artists on my ipod that I never listen to: The Local Natives and Monster of Folk.
Other signs of spring/summer would be the baby rabbit that has been eating carrots we put out and the small cries of the fuzzy starlings just hatched under the roof of our garage.
[quite lovely.]
I have disabled my Facebook for summer time so I can live a bit more, send out really truly letters, write in my journal and embrace things that are not digital [i.e. less of the digital friends, pictures, conversations, etc.]. It was a strange feeling detaching myself from it, but today I'm feeling a sense of freedom.
In other news: I am currently grooving to the youtube channel watchlistentell, which has a collection of nice music
I'm enjoying a new bike that is old
I have a growing list of DIY projects that I would like to tackle [suitcase chair? anyone?]
My feet are still tender from winter so I walk barefoot often, in case I need to dash through the woods like an Indian
& some days I pretend that I can play the ukulele.

About a week ago at work, my very favorite couple stopped in. They are older [I'm really wretched with ages, so I couldn't hazard a guess], and perhaps I've talked about them before. They always lean in to each other. Ringing bells? Well, they are just adorable, unlike the other grouchy couples who come in, who barely talk because they've spent their lives together and now are just sick of hearing the other person. My favorite couple always gets a skim latte each, and lean in and talk like it's their fourth date [quite comfortable, but still interested].
Anyhow, so the lady comes up to the counter and I ask her how long they've been married.
She laughs and says it's been 38 years.
I tell her that they are my favorite couple, that I've talked about them to others, how they always seem to enjoy being together.
She said that they really do, and also says they just finished some race or triathlon together a few weeks ago. They just like being together. She laughed a little bit more.
It was just darling.

one hundred. seventy nine.

2011-04-22T21:35:00.000-05:00

I've started to compile my summer reading list.

This stack of books is not conclusive.

It's just the stack of books that I have sitting around to read.

Should keep me busy.

I'm looking forward to summer so much.

I'll be signing out of facebook as soon as school ends

and not signing back on until cooler weather rolls around.

That will be nice.

I'll still be working

but not homeworking.

I'll be driving. So much.

And flying for the first time.

I'll be getting my hands dirty in our garden and helping to host salad parties that I will invite you to if you like fresh salad.

What are you reading & planning?

one hundred. seventy eight.

2011-03-29T12:23:00.000-05:00

The strangest day so far.
I'll blame it on last night. About to go to sleep when I decide to take a swig of the water bottle sitting next to the bed.
You know those cleaning commercials when it makes the "DUN DUN DUN DUN" noise, that frightening music, followed by the screeching sound when you glimpse the pawprint from Fido on your carpet?
Tell me you know what I mean.
In any case, that was going through my head as I was taking delicious gulps, then glanced down at the bottle to see dainty, fluffy little clumps of mold clinging to the sides and floating around.
Who knew mold could grow in a water bottle?!
I warned my sister to check my vital signs every few hours and tried to sleep.
Woke up this morning feeling especially groggy. Went to work, thankful that it was a short shift, and thankful it was Tuesday. Tuesdays are unusually uneventful.
The day is going on merrily, until about 8:30 when crazy man walks in.
I knew immediately and instinctively that he would be crazy.
I'm making friendly small talk with the police officer who always gets a honey latte. I tell crazy man I'll be right with him. Crazy man walks right up to the counter and asks me how my morning has been.
"...It's been good, thanks, how has your morning been?"
"Not good. Just got a seat belt ticket. And I have no money. But I'm not going to let it ruin my day."
"Good plan."
Personally, I would never discuss tickets in front of a police officer, seems like some sort of faux pas, but this guy seems to have no problem. The police officer gives me a sympathetic glance, then takes his latte and walks out the door. I silently rage at being left alone with crazy man.
Crazy man asks for a small coffee in a large cup, so that he can put a load of cream in. Not that I'm counting, but it's a decent 10 oz. of cream he throws in there.
He makes random requests, a phone book, switch cups, put the phone book back he forgot he had his own, etc. He is disoriented.
He sits with his phone book and begins to make calls with his phone on speaker. He is calling pharmacies. I surmise that he might potentially be off his meds. He puts his phone down for a second and then suddenly, literally SUDDENLY is asleep. Passed out. In his sleep he twitches and takes off his shoes.
I tell my boss and random customers that he is probably just conducting a social experiment to see if we will kick him out.
I laugh loudly, bang pitchers on the counter and yell "GOODBYE" to customers as they leave.
No response.
My boss doesn't want to kick him out, she is a little scared of him.
He is startled and wakes up, strangely not at any point that I was making noise. In waking up he dumps his creamy coffee all over the floor. He then places his foot, sock only, right in the middle of the puddle and goes back to sleep.
We make Paul, the manager from the other side, go and wake him up and tell him we need to clean up his mess.
He apologizes profusely, but I suspect he is still asleep by the drooling he is doing as he's talking. We encourage him to go to the bathroom and splash some water on his face. He agrees, but not before taking off his soaked socks, putting on his shoes and leaving his socks on the floor behind him.
We clean everything up.
He comes back out, apologizes again, buys another coffee and then leaves, but not before jumping from sitting in his car to checking his trunk multiple times.
Glen - the man who sits in the computer tech window we have in our coffee shop - says that I attract crazy people, because I am crazy.
Thanks Glen.
We then have a jolly conversation about social experiments and he gives me a piece of chocolate.
So, all in all...strange times.
Anyhow, currently I'm hoarding a table at Panera during the lunch rush, so I'm feeling some guilt. I should probably get up and let some old friends sit here and catch up. I also should spy on the delicate drawing the man in front of me is doing in blue pencil. I've been craning my neck to catch a glimpse.

one hundred. seventy seven.

2011-03-21T20:54:00.000-05:00

Current battle: Christina vs. Diet Diary.
My biology teacher is making us all do a diet diary for a week, writing down not only calories but fat, saturated fat, sugars, fiber, carbs, sodium and protein.
This is turning every meal into quite the ordeal. [unintentional rhyming.]
Not only do I feel guilty when I've downed three Oreos after lunch and I'm giving Nutella longing glances an hour later, but I also have to add up everything I eat.
Example: Yesterday I wanted a tuna sandwich. I need to measure portions and then tally up all the above points for the tomato, bread, tuna, salt, mayo, mustard and cheese. Ridiculous.
I'm about ready to just give up on eating for the rest of the week.
I've also started looking at foods to see which ones only have five ingredients, because I was reading a book about how you should only eat foods with 5 ingredients.
This would eliminate some of my diet.
Especially Oreos.

I have been positively awful at blogging and journaling. I don't know how my days seem so short, I'm only taking 2 classes and yet my homework load seems strangely overwhelming when combined with work, family & friends. I wish I did have time to write, it seems I have a lot to write about. Someday when I publish my memoirs/coffee shop book, you'll know.

Current other things that occupy my time besides homework/work would be my ukulele that I've been trying to learn how to play [wretched strumming patterns are confusing], a trip to Nashville where I had my first shot of tequila and left with an LP from The Civil Wars which I have been fairly obsessed with. Also, spending my time with this charming chap named Alex. It's a good story, I'll tell you sometime.

I've been thinking too. Drives to work and school and friends leave time for lots of thinking - I end up wishing more came out of it, something with a forward motion.
& I'm thinking about being empty.
There are good connotations to this - emptying yourself for another and such.
Being empty might be better than being full, i.e. full of oneself or too complacent and satisfied so that you no longer hunger.

One thing I'm frightened of is empty words.
They hang there after I've said them and hold no weight, even float away.
When I grab her arm and say "I'll be praying for you."
Do those words hold meaning or do I just say them because we say these things?
When I look at you & say "I'm sorry," am I really?
When I express love or sorrow, are my words reflecting true feelings and initiative or seem listless and shallow?
Even as customers walk out the door with their coffee at the shop, and I send them off with a "Have a good day!" I'd like to mean that too. I earnestly want them to have a good day. I want to earnestly love and sorrow and apologize and pray, want my words to hold meaning and weight.
You know?

one hundred. seventy six.

2011-02-18T14:47:00.002-06:00

http://mrmrsglobetrot.blogspot.com/

Just lovely, check it out. Also look at their wedding page, so very lovely.

Today is mini-vacation day in Lake Geneva. I'm taking a few hours to sit & do homework & ramble about the area. It really does feel like a vacation, and the drive up was just a dream. Cornfields, music, little towns.

So I'm sitting in the Starbucks right now which feels a little bit like cheating. I'm kind of a coffee snob, working at a locally owned coffee shop, and here I am sitting at Starbucks. But I had a gift card and I like not spending money.
Like a cat, I picked a chair in the sun and am now sprawled out taking in as much warmth as I can.
& have been enjoying my tea latte quite a bit. It's only a matter of time before I dash up for a piece of marble loaf.

& although I am basking in the glorious sunlight, sometimes I feel as if my entire life is made up of things that go well with rainy days.
Or, I should say, I love rain and fog and things that feel like rain and fog.
Music that feels like rain and fog is the best kind of music.
Clothes that feel like rain and fog, like boots and scarves and sweaters.
& other things too that feel like rain and fog, like crocheting and cooking something comforting and reading aloud and curling up.
It's a bit strange, but I actually associate quite a bit with that.
So. I guess I should be living in England or Ireland.

Anyhow. This sun is nice today, though.

::update:: Delightful older British man walks over & starts a conversation.
"I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be really enjoying your studying." He motions to his monstrous folder. "I'm the same."
[Clearly he was being sarcastic because I was half-heartedly looking over Political Science homework while mostly watching people around Starbucks and picking almonds out of my teeth.]
He then launched into a short summary of his studies on history, and how Julius Caesar fabricated some of the history he wrote down to help his personal agenda.
"Well, I didn't want to distract you, just wanted to sympathize."

This is a great day.

one hundred. seventy five.

2011-02-02T13:10:00.001-06:00

Snowed in.
Took us 2+ hours to shovel our way around.
Our neighbor decided to blow some of his snow on our freshly shoveled driveway.
That was not ok.
But then it was because he came and finished our sidewalk with his mega super powered snowblower. It's a job our little 20 dollar one couldn't quite handle.
Our backyard was quite snowy.

& these weren't even the largest drifts.

About to hunker down with some homework before I finally finish "Mere Christianity."
What I find amazing so far with this book is the timeless answers & also the timeless arguments. People today are making the same claims against Christianity that they did decades ago.
Anyhow, just a brief thought.
Hope you're taking some time to hunker down as well.

one hundred. seventy four.

2011-02-01T18:09:00.000-06:00

being blizzarded calls for various knitwear.
my sweater is 18 sizes too big and i have socks up to my knees.

working on finishing the cowl that has literally taken me almost 6 months to knit.
knitting = slow & torturous.
this is a grand sort of day.
[in case you were wondering: "blizzarded" is a technical term.]

one hundred. seventy three.

2011-01-31T17:12:00.001-06:00

Theme of the day:
Distracted.

I am obsessed with/distracted by Fast Typer.
I am distracted by my dog playing in the snow [hilarious].
I am distracted by waffles with almond butter.
I am distracted by you.
I am distracted by Pandora.
I am distracted by thoughts. I literally sit and zone out on an object across the room, thinking, then come to about 5 minutes later.
I am distracted by my sister.
I am distracted by constant weather checks to see how much snow we're going to get.
I am distracted by my uneven finger nails.
I am distracted by dictionary.com.

20 pages into U.S. Government reading and I can't go on. I am just too removed.
Lets go out & play instead.

one hundred. seventy two.

2011-01-28T21:27:00.002-06:00

A little bit of Bright Eyes today.

[& the world's got me dizzy again

You think after 22 years I'd be used to the spin

& it only feels worse when I stay in one place

So I'm always pacing around or walking away.]

I'm on a bit of a kick. i always like bright eyes better at night. I think it's because the first time I heard Bright Eyes was at Ayla's house, and she would play them to fall asleep to.

[I took off my shoes & walked into the woods. I felt lost & found with every step I took.]

I had a gift certificate to Mario Tricoci's so today I redeemed it with a hair cut.
This place was a little intimidating.
They gave me a robe when I walked in.
When I walked back I asked my hair lady what to do with it.
"...You could put it on, if you wanted."
Right. That would make sense.
Or none, at all, to put on a black robe just for a hair cut.
But I did, anyhow. Live it up.
This place was weird, though. I don't know if I could do it again. The girls who weren't cutting hair were standing in front of mirrors cutting their own hair, just teeny bits here and there.
snip snip. fluff fluff fluff. curl small portion. snip. fluff fluff. hairspray. snip.
stare at self in mirror.
repeat.
I was a little glad to leave.
[however, now my hair smells especially nice.]

I liked these little bits:
"...But it was all a bunch of hot air - nothing but their own opinions. Empty ritual. Their robes were costumes, and their temple was an empty shell. This story scares me because it shows that it's possible for a whole generation to go happily about the business of their religion, all the while having lost a true knowledge of God.
Knowledge doesn't have to be dull & lifeless. And when you think about it, exactly what is our alternative? Ignorance? Falsehood?
We're either building our lives on the reality of what God is truly like and what He's about, or we're basing our lives on our own imagination & misconceptions.
We're all theologians. The question is whether what we know about God is true." [Joshua Harris]

one hundred. seventy one.

2011-01-25T20:40:00.000-06:00

So much food in my stomach right now.
Went out with pappy. Got some pasta dish which came with breadsticks.
Also had a beer.
Also had 3 oreos when I got home.
[Yes, they were Double Stuf.]
Disgusting. I am disgusting and also huge.

You know what I've been thinking about?
I've been thinking about how I want to live a life worth writing about. I don't know if that goal is shallow or a bit ridiculous, but it's true. I want to live a life that I want to put down on paper. Not necessarily something that someone would pick up and read, but something worth spending some pen and paper on, some time scratching it out.
You know? Something interesting, or simple, or innovative. Something new or rediscovered.
Example: not worth writing about - Today I worked then got home and watched TV. Then I heated up some leftovers, belched, let the dog out, let the dog in, went to bed.
[That was not actually my day. I had breadsticks instead of leftovers, and I moved a massive bed which involved me using power tools. Totally handled it like a rockstar.]

Involved in this goal - as I was thinking on it - was that I would love to eat FOOD worth writing about.
Bad food example: 3 double stuf Oreos.
Good food example: Food that I had a real hand in, whether growing, or purchasing from someone who had a real relationship to the food, or just making something with my hands.
I think that would be really neat.
Have I been watching too much of Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution and Food Inc. and such?
Yes.
Yes I have.
Still. This resolution stands.

one hundred. seventy.

2011-01-22T18:36:00.000-06:00

More Matthew and the Atlas.
I'm digging I Will Remain and Within the Rose.
I have so much new music too, more than I know what to do with. So I'm slowly making my way through it, then jumping back to Within the Rose and reveling in its sweet huskiness.
It's like sitting in a log cabin built 200 years ago, with chinks between the logs and sunlight streaming through.
Literally.
Listen to the song. That's it.

I started school up again.
My U.S. Government teacher is hilarious.
He looks like he always about to beat you up.
He's about 15 feet tall and a hefty man.
Not large, just...big.
For instance, he needs to keep his arms out to his sides so that his biceps don't rub against his ribcage area.
He also constantly pushes his sleeves up over his elbows
which is what they always do before they fight
in the movies.
Real tough guy.
Probably because he spent 20 years in various war zones.
Anyhow, so he appears to know what he's talking about.
I like him because he thinks politics is a lot of poop
and wants us to learn to think for ourselves.
At least, that what he tells us...

This weekend has been quite the whirlwind, in a good way.
& it's not even over.
& i'm still spinning a bit too much to have good clarity or good words, even.
So. I'll leave off there.

one hundred. sixty nine.

2011-01-18T17:06:00.000-06:00

I'll admit it.
I'm a bit of a sucker for romance, at times.
There were tears in my eyes at the end of "The Young Victoria."
My heart might leap at sweet songs.
So I can't help but come near to bursting when a romance blooms right in front of me at the coffee shop. These two lovely single parents have both been dropping by separately for ages.
She gets the large caramel vanilla cappuccino.
He gets the medium iced mocha.
They'd seen each other in passing.
Their kids went to the same day care.
Then one day, their paths crossed in the shop.
I spied from behind the counter as they chatted.
Then:
Him | "Why don't you let me take you out for coffee?"
Her | "Sure!"
The next day he comes in early and buys both coffees.
[Good man.]
They sit and talk.
Bright Eyes enters and begins to play "The First Day of My Life" quietly in the corner.
[Ok, not really, but in my head, yes. Listen to it if you don't know it.]
She leaves & he comes over and tells us that he likes her and just hopes that she falls for his boyish charm.
We tell him that we're rooting for him.
Weeks pass.
They come in often and drink coffee together.
Seriously, these are gag-me adorable moments
The sly grin from him as he makes a dorky joke.
The shy smile and downcast eyes from her.
The lingering as they walk out to the cars.
The walk away, still talking.
The walk back so they can finish their conversation.
The walk away, still smiling.
He walks back and movie moment, all out kisses the crap out of her.
The shy smile and downcast eyes from her.
The collective "awe" from....well, me, creeping from inside.
Bright Eyes finishes their song.

one hundred. sixty eight.

2011-01-14T14:48:00.001-06:00

so. i'm cracking pistachios with a vigor heretofore unknown.
also, here is my new project:

My entire house will be full of
delightful little
vintage
suitcase chairs.
Please come over!

I like Matthew and the Atlas.
I think.
I always take a while to make up my mind about new music.

My Dad has this funny thing about our garage key.
He always takes it with him.
Eventually, someone needs to get into the garage for snow shovel/sled/lawn mower/random tool.
We search high & low on the key rack.
No key.
We call my Dad.
"Oh yeah, I have it with me."
"Dad...we need to get in the garage."
"Shoot. I keep meaning to make some extra keys."
That is his answer. Leaving the garage key at home is not an option.
He'll probably need it. Sometime.
At work.
When he's 40 miles from the garage.
Oh Pappy.

This week was an interesting one.
By interesting I mostly mean awkward with a few other things thrown in.
Things like bittersweet & uncomfortable & music.
Also - nice.
But like I said: mostly awkward.

To round off --
[I'm finally feeling something like free.]

one hundred. sixty seven.

2011-01-09T18:23:00.000-06:00

Curled up on the couch in my flannel pajama pants with an over-sized cardigan.
Reading, writing & listening to James Taylor spinning on our record player.
What lovely, simple things.

My list has been growing so that now it's half bucket list, half list of plans/decisions.
I should probably separate them.

Our house has been quite full recently with Amanda, Nora & Lizzie all visiting at different times this last week. A bit of a whirlwind, but in a good way.
School begins a week from tomorrow so the whirlwind really just continues.
But in a good way.
Truly, so much to learn.

one hundred. sixty six.

2011-01-07T09:02:00.000-06:00

A customer from work told me to make a list of 20 things I want to do. Just jot them down without too much thinking & analyzing. I'm doing it. It's helpful. Sometimes I feel a bit like I'm wandering - not stagnant, my footing just isn't too sure. If I write things down it helps. I'm a list person, I like to look at words on a page.

Went snowboarding for the first time 2 days ago.
Yesterday my arms were a bit sore.
Today everything is a bit sore. Heading down the city in just a few hours, so it couldn't be a better day to have trouble walking down the stairs.
I'm not a particularly fearless person, so snowboarding for me consisted mostly of braking my way down big hills and running into the lift. Literally. Colliding with the lift.
It was still thrilling.

Our cat, Gilbert, killed a mouse sometime last week. He found it zipping around the kitchen & somehow caught it, though he is a sissy with no claws.
He paraded it in front of us when we were all sitting in the living room watching a movie.
Now he has taken to lurking around the kitchen all the time, darting about like mad. No more mice, but it seems like Gil has found some profound purpose and now will let no mouse escape his savage, claw-less paws.

Also, I just don't understand people who are obsessed with sports. It makes no sense. I hear these two customers at work talking about football like EVERYTHING depends on this quarterback or that team or who knows what.
I capitalized EVERYTHING and that still doesn't feel like it encompasses the EVERYTHING that it is.
You know - happiness, faith, what they name their dog, their child, where they live, etc...

one hundred. sixty five.

2011-01-01T14:17:00.001-06:00

Goodness, that last post was so long.

Here's a short one:

I'm looking forward to 2011, to this clean slate.

There is very little that is sure, but in the unknowing there is a certain calm. .

And there’s a hand my trusty friend !

And give us a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

[We tried to sing that last night, but didn't really know the words. Blast.]

Anyhow, hope your ringing in was quite memorable, as mine was fairly mellow. Sparkling apple juice with friends and all that. In my flannel pajama pants by 9:00.

I read my Oswald Chambers last entry of the year and felt quite drawn to his ending line:

"Leave the Irreparable Past in His hand, and step out into the Irresistible Future with Him."

So, Happy New Year!

one hundred. sixty four.

2010-12-30T21:15:00.000-06:00

Christmas was an exceptionally good one. Everyone in my family was far too generous, my Mom cried at her gift [yessss] & merry times were had by all. The family from Tennessee was up for a few days which was bittersweet. So sad they don't live closer, although Tai and I now are filled with good intentions to visit them for an extended stay.
Also, the cousins came up for Christmas Eve and we had the most hilarious evening. First, Tai, Liz, Bethany & I played the funniest game of LIFE I have ever played. I can't even explain why, but we didn't even finish the game because we were crying too hard.
We also decided to keep with tradition and watch old family videos of past Christmas Eve "shows" we would do for our parents. I'm sure I have talked often enough about how nerdy and awkward I was when I was younger....but seriously. I literally have never seen anyone with a haircut like the one I was sporting.
Lastly, Bethany decided to ask us a series of questions about kissing and how it works because she had seen two people kissing in a movie. It was one of those conversations with young children where they are full of curiosity & unbarred by social standards and norms. This makes for quite an interesting conversation, full of unheard of perceptions & ideas about proper kissing techniques. Needless to say, this will be a good conversation to remind Bethany of in about 5 years.

Chris got me a box set of 6 C.S. Lewis books I didn't have. I'm excited to work my way through them. Already through "A Grief Observed" which was insightful and a bit surprising. I also received a Johnny Flynn record, a Coldplay record, various gift cards and a pair of headphones that are not earbuds. What do you call them? I don't even know, they cover my ears and are chunky. I like them.

I just tried to eat a massive bite of potato and almost split my jaw open. It still hasn't quite recovered from my extremely hardcore [not really] sledding accident a few weeks back. This should be teaching me to eat like a lady, but so far I still try to manage enormous bites and suffer painful consequences. Dash it all.

The day after Christmas was the most depressing day. I always have issues with the day after Christmas. All of the gifts and family and eating make me quite languid the next day. I also come to the sad realization that Christmas is now so far away. I remember distinctly feeling this way for the first time years ago, right after the Christmas where I got my "Walk to Remember" soundtrack. No matter how many times Mandy Moore sang Only Hope, nothing would ever compare to the moment when I opened it, because then I was joyful and glowing, and the day after I was obese, wearing my baggiest clothes and too overwhelmed with Christmas to do anything but sit and listen to the soundtrack over and over.
[We can just slide right over the fact that I was totally obsessed with that soundtrack for years and still occasionally play it in my car.]

Anyhow, now I'm back to work and getting my life moving again. I've been working like a mad person on our attic, trying to get it ready for Tai and I to move our beds up there so we can make our room more functional for crafts, writing, homework, dance parties, etc. Right now it's a bit cramped.

One of my favorite customers, Jeremy, was in writing his book at the coffee shop all this week.
He says it's a science fiction novel [did I say this already? I feel like I'm repeating myself...] so we joke that it's a science fiction novel about baristas.
He's secretly writing about us.
We try to give him some material to go off of.
If no one else is in the coffee shop I'll randomly yell at my boss "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU STOLE THE FAMILY JEWELS!"
Then I remember it's science fiction so I add something stereotypical like "...AND SOLD THEM TO THE ALIENS!!"
We get a kick out of ourselves.
Jeremy told me if he ever makes it, he'll give me a copy of his book.

Never really worry for a bit
Sometimes it feels worse than it really is
You may always be changing your mind
Just push hard for the finish line.

one hundred. sixty three.

2010-12-22T18:02:00.000-06:00

I should never be allowed to enter a department store alone.
I wander aimlessly, filled with good intentions mixed with an impulsive consumer drive.
Today it was Walmart.
I had two things to pick up: curtain rods and dog food. I can usually tear myself away from clothes, shoes, electronics, etc... Not too much of a problem. My self-control is exceptional.
However, do not put me in home goods.
Alone and defenseless I will muse thoughtfully over cutting boards, compare pillows, browse sheets, inspect comforters, sniff candles and gaze longingly at can openers, spatulas and other kitchen doo-dads.
There is not much rhyme or reason behind this.
I do not have a home of my own.
I can't attribute my interest to the high-quality offered.
And yet I find myself shocked and sorely tempted when I round the corner and find FLEECE THROWS: 2 FOR $3!
I run my hand along the soft, patterned blanket and wonder at such a deal, regardless of the fact that we have close to 83...trillion blankets in our house.
It could be even more.
I lost count after we stocked up on blankets and cheese powder in preparation for Y2K. Thankfully we didn't need them, but we still haven't quite recovered. The cheese powder is gone, but the blankets have remained, even multiplied after moving to a bigger house.
No, I didn't buy any blankets today.
This does not lessen the danger of me in a home goods section. Today I might be able to walk away, but next time will I come home with a down alternative comforter? A variety of kitchen knives? Olive oil bottles?
It's a real problem.

Went to the city yesterday with a merry gang, including newly engaged Jacbo & Jenna.
Lauren, Tai and I were positively gushing the whole day through.
It's good to see things that are right, and they are right.
Another [lesser] reason I am excited: road trip for the wedding. I'm not sure if Daphne [my little Honda] will make the whole trip, but let's cross our fingers and hope so. I automatically link driving to music, so my mind involuntarily begins making playlists for the drive. It will be grand. I'm banning Alabama from the playlist, Taylor. Also, Bon Jovi.

Need to get back to making an enormous amount of Christmas gifts.
Truth: I'll probably just go and watch some more documentaries about food. I'm totally hooked.

one hundred. sixty two.

2010-12-20T22:20:00.000-06:00

Whenever I first show my Dad music, he doesn't like it.
It's not until the third or fourth time I play an artist that he begins to go: "Hey, who is this? I like this."
It's a process.
Now he enjoys Mumford & Sons.
Anyhow, tonight we went to the Crepe place.
I love crepes.
Especially dessert crepes with warm berries and chocolate.
I also had escargot for the first time. As far as I know, Escargot is cooked snails.
Yum?
It actually wasn't bad. It was served with a pesto-y kind of sauce, lots of garlic.
& do you know that the snow was just perfect tonight?
Well, it was.

The best way to beat over-eating during the holidays is to go sledding with friends on a hill of ice and grass, fall dramatically and hit your face on the ice.
Your jaw will be sore for days, making it completely impossible to enjoy large, delectable Christmas cookies and treats.
You will only be able to mash up grapes and eat them like a baby.
I do not speak from personal experience because I am as graceful as a lark and would never do something like fall on a hill of ice.

one hundred. sixty one.

2010-12-16T14:39:00.000-06:00

Today a man sat in a leather chair in the coffee shop, talking to his friend.
He slowly slid down until half his body was off the chair, his butt hanging off the edge, his head squashed into his shoulder, neck completely gone.
His arms hung limply over the edge, as if useless and attached only by small pins, like a marionette someone had just dropped on the chair.
It was a funny thing.
He was also talking in a different language, which made the whole situation more interesting to observe.

Today I dropped a pitcher on the ground.
[Typical.]
I was serving a man coffee and my elbow just knocked it right off the counter.
The man took his coffee, and then said "Good luck. We're all rooting for you."
It was a funny thing.
That was the same man who came in before he'd had his coffee, and said in all seriousness: "Hi, I need a large coffee with cream for room."
"Cream for room?" I repeated.
"Yes, cream for room." He still didn't realize what he was saying.
I got him the coffee with the room and he didn't even realize it until he was about to walk out the door.
"ROOM. FOR. CREAM." He hollered.
It was a funny thing.

one hundred. sixty.

2010-12-12T19:03:00.000-06:00

Treacherous driving today.
The road between my work and my house is mostly in the middle of large, empty fields. This is soothing and lovely in the summer. When it snows it becomes a frozen tundra of danger. Snowbanks are picked up by the wind and place directly in the middle of my lane so that I'm forced to either barrel through and risk my little Honda getting stuck or go in the other lane and risk getting hit head on by an SUV that's still doing 60 mph in the blizzard.
I would rather be riding my bike in Ireland.

White Elephant gifts given thus far:
Crocheted coffee sleeves.
Notecards.
More crocheted coffee sleeves [I'm trying to combine creative with thrifty].
A toy piano.

White Elephant gifts received:
A ceramic Santa
A plastic dolphin cookie jar that makes dolphin noises when you open the lid. Genius.
Clearly, I've got the better end of the deal.

Other things I've been doing with my time:

Part-time Mrs. Claus -
spreading some holiday cheer.

one hundred. fifty nine.

2010-12-10T09:17:00.001-06:00

Lets go walking on a frozen lake.
Yes?
We'll try to hold each other up
But we'll both fall down
And the wind will sweep us away.
[afterwards we can get hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.]

Every morning this past week I've gotten in my car and rocked out to "Down in the Valley" by The Head and the Heart. If my brother heard that song, he would say that it wasn't a song you could rock out to, but I'd have to disagree. There is much rocking out, mostly towards the end. Chris thinks you can only rock out to "Livin' on a Prayer."
Anyhow, so I listen to that whole album over and over again.
I tend to do that.
I'll get stuck on a song/album and listen to nothing else for weeks
Until I get nearly sick of it.
In fact, right now I am listening to "Sounds Like Hallelujah."
Their music makes me want to go on a road trip with Tai and my dog.
Done.

Ugly Sweater Christmas Party tonight
Open Mic night tomorrow night
Storytime with children on Sunday & setting up the tree with family,Chris and his girlfriend.
This season is so busy. I kind of just want to sit and watch Meet Me in St. Louis and eat stacks of holiday cookies.

one hundred. fifty eight.

2010-12-05T17:23:00.002-06:00

Went to the Christmas Parade in my little town yesterday.

Tai and I were probably 2 out of 50 people. Apparently they don't have a huge turnout.

The weather was perfect, though. Lightly snowing. We bundled up in various knitwear and stood on the streets to wave to Santa who traveled to our town on the back of the fire truck.

There was also a marching band, some Siberian Huskies and a police car.

An extravagant event.

I love my little town & my simple life.

Tai and I walked back and talked about how fortunate we were.

At work there is a humorous guy who sits in the corner with his tea and watches what everyone does.
[kind of like something I would do]
He claims that he is going to write a book about all the things that happen in a coffee shop.
[kind of like something I would do]
After a strange customer comes in, or I drop something, or anything noteworthy happens, I look over at him to see if he saw it.
He often does.
Then he'll wave an imaginary pen in the air and shout out: "CHAPTER 23!"
Hilarious.
We've got a lot of chapters. Probably a whole chapter dedicated to things that Tina has dropped on the ground.

one hundred. fifty seven.

2010-11-30T15:58:00.000-06:00

I worked out for the first time in a bit.
Oh, hello muscles in my legs.

Got asked out by a guy at work.
Oh, hello awkward moments and painful rejections.

Forgot to take the cookies out of the oven.
Oh, hello disgusting, black, chocolate chip hockey pucks.

Bob Dylan sings on our Christmas station at work.
Oh, hello to the worst rendition of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" you could ever imagine.

Goodbye world
Hello beautiful slice of tiramisu.
Curled up in our big chair, listening to Iron & Wine and refusing to move my feeble legs until tomorrow morning.

one hundred. fifty six.

2010-11-26T22:28:00.002-06:00

I'd like to get all decked out with Dickens and make a goose this year for Christmas.

Don't even try and tell be that wouldn't be a ball.

I've got a recipe all picked out.

This is how I tend to do things.

The first time I have a baking lesson with Hannah we make croissants.

CROISSANTS.

Not only do they take hours to make, they also turn into a disaster very quickly.

Now, the first time I decide I want to make a Christmas dinner I pick a goose with all the trimmings.

Sometimes I can't distinguish between a challenge and setting myself up for disaster.

Went Black Friday shopping with 4 generations of ladies.

My great-grandma, my Meme, my mom & aunt, my cousins & my sister.

Great fun.

I love my family.

We are big and crazy and isn't everyone? Quite wonderful.

I am, however, on a bit of a guilt trip on account of the shopping I did for myself.

I just finished reading that book by Donald Miller where they go on a road trip and find themselves thankful for just cereal.

I don't love everything by Donald Miller, but I do enjoy some things he writes, like when he writes about our need for things...

And here I am. Black Friday. Buying things I don't need the day after Thanksgiving.

Ironic, really.

We spend a day being thankful for the things we have, then wake up early to spend money on things we don't need.

Unless you are like my Meme who only buys gifts for everyone else and splurges on a pair of socks for herself.

That's the spirit.

& not that I'm on some bitter self-loathing trip, it just makes me think about what I have and what I need.

You know?

I've been awake for so long but I'm still not tired.

You up for a midnight game of Battleship?

Nothing sounds as good to me right now as a game of Battleship and a glass of chocolate milk.

one hundred. fifty five.

2010-11-22T20:08:00.003-06:00

I don't know if writing the words of another on this blog counts as an entry, but tonight the words of Oswald Chambers were convicting and timely:

"It is not your devotion to God that makes you refuse to be shallow, but your wish to impress other people with the fact that you are not shallow, which is a sure sign that you are a spiritual prig. Be careful of the production of contempt in yourself, it always comes along this line, and causes you to go about as a walking rebuke to other people because they are more shallow than you are. Beware of posing as a profound person...

To be shallow is not a sign of being wicked, nor is shallowness a sign that there are no deeps: the ocean has a shore... We are so abominably serious, so desperately interested in our own characters, that we refuse to behave like Christians in the shallow concerns of life.

...the greatest fraud you have ever known is yourself."

I'm a scoffer.

I should be sleeping [at 8:15p.m.] but things tend to fill my mind right as I lay down my head. Last night I lay awake for 2 hours before hopping up to get nutella and toast and read. I love reading with toast and nutella, but tonight I'd prefer to sleep.

So. Goodnight then.

one hundred. fifty four.

2010-11-17T13:16:00.006-06:00

& that will be one of the moments

you'll say that you remember.

it's silly

and simple

and strange the reasons we hold on.

||what if i was whole again?

i've been casually flipping through this book called "Indie Publishing." I would love to take on a project outlined in the book, but it all seems so complicated. Besides everything being the craftiest of all books, there are confusing bits about ISBN numbers and copyright laws and all that. I keep looking at pages and then just have to continue flipping through because my mind is so full.

It really just feels like i'm slow.

Those moments pop up every now and again. I'll stare at an object for an extended amount of time grasping in the depths of my mind for what I was supposed to be doing.

Stare at pages in a book about publishing and nothing will be connecting.

Wretched.

I'm too young for my mind to be leaving me.

--here's something i know: some things are best in silence.--

don't we all find beauty in such curious things?

you may find beauty in darkness

or loneliness

or melancholy

or sadness

i might agree. i might see a strange beauty in these things too.

[but i'm convinced there is no beauty to be found in bitterness

& such beauty to be found in longing.]

one hundred. fifty three.

2010-11-14T20:52:00.003-06:00

Thursday-

Work. Train ride down to the city.

Tour of Roosevelt/visit to the gallery, thanks to Jacob.

Elephant & Castle for a proper English dinner of Shepherds Pie and Bread Pudding. Fantastic!

Amusing ride on the red line. Arrive and meet friends for the Johnny Flynn show.

Terrible opening act. Everything typical and awful about twenty year old males.

Good tea.

Lovely music thanks to Johnny Flynn. Would he have been so wonderful if he didn't have a terrible opening act?

yes.

Such lovely folk music, lovely accent and stories.

Forming a mild obsession with folk music.

Got my shirt signed after the show.

Discover shirt is too small. Blast.

Make it home and in bed by 3 a.m.

Finally I sound like I'm 22 and not 83, sitting home and knitting.

Friday-

Strike party and then drinks with the team for HONK. Reminisce. Jolly times.

Saturday-

Went and saw Beauty and the Beast performed in Lake County.

Exquisite dinner, beer and time with friends afterwards.

Stayed up until 2 talking with Sarah about God, boys and living together in England.

Tonight-

Back to being 83. 9:00 and I'm about to call it a night.

this is a good life.

one hundred. fifty two.

2010-11-09T20:16:00.001-06:00

i want to spend one year in the city.

i want to spend it with some spirited folk, probably my sister.

i want to do something every night, big things, little things, parties, trying new restaurants.

i want to shop in the most expensive store.

i want to find the cheapest, dingiest little shops.

i want to see good art, listen to live music on the streets and in smoky bars and under the stars in the park.

i want to discover hidden places, make friends with people who like fine wine.

i want to talk to people, since in the city people look away from you.

i want to take knitting classes in wicker park and walk craft shows, take pilates, take a ride in a carriage around Christmas.

i want to spend one year in the mountains.

i want to spend it, just me and someone with a laugh that is warm.

i want to be tucked away, hiking everyday, snow and rain and sunshine.

i want to learn the trees and flowers and the neighbors a mile away.

i want to bake pies and bread.

i want to read books aloud, roast our toes by the fire.

i want to chop down a tree.

i want to make a quilt.

i want to learn to dance in living room and trip on the carpet.

i want to scream in the forest as loud as i can.

i want to spend one year away.

i want to spend it, just me and someone who can pack light.

i want to spend it away at P.E.I. and Ireland, England and France.

i want to eat food i've never eaten before.

i want to get drunk. just once.

i want to communicate back home only through letters and funny postcards and phones on the streets.

i want to watch foreign movies.

i want to listen to foreign music.

i want to hear old, old stories from old, old men in old, dusty places.

i want to spend it out of doors, on bikes, on foot, on trains, on little boats in big rivers.

i want to do these things & i want to write it all down.

[let's ignore how many times i said "i want..." don't count.]

one hundred. fifty one.

2010-11-07T20:05:00.002-06:00

Just signed up for classes for next semester. Apparently, according to my advisor, I got all my fun, elective classes out of the way at Harper and now have to take stupid classes here, such as biology at 8:30 Friday morning. Nothing says good morning quite like dissecting a pig. Yum.

Something I thought about whilst I was laying in bed last night:

I am constantly searching for ways to make the world better. That's what I do. It's pretty noble of me. For instance, when driving, if everyone paid attention at a red light and we all let go of our brakes at the same time when the light turned green, then we could all move together without anyone obnoxious sitting and picking their nose [totally me...what??]. So simple. Everyone moving together. I realize this sounds frighteningly like utopia, but really it's just common courtesy.

Another thing that would make life better would be if people just acknowledged awkward obvious moments aloud. Rather than blushing and ignoring when you spit on someone, point out that you just spit on someone, laugh about it and move on. Otherwise it hangs between you for the rest of the conversation as you wonder if they noticed that you just projected a huge globule of spittle onto their shoulder.

If someone farts, mention it, let it go. Laugh about it if necessary, cover your nose if necessary, but please don't let that bad air sit there as everyone wonders who did what.

If someone cooks poor food, laugh about it. Eat it anyway. But if we're eating among friends, don't spit the food out into a napkin and then ask for the recipe to be nice. Tell me it is revolting and we'll scrap around for some ice cream to eat instead.

Someone offers you their hand. You wonder if it's a hug or a handshake, and go in for the hug on a whim. It was a handshake. Their hand is trapped between you. Embrace that moment you just shared, accept the fact that it was a bit strange, move on. Remark that it didn't go over as planned. Everyone will feel so much better.

Anyhow. Thoughts that fill my head when I should be sleeping. Implement them into your life and see how much better you fare. Thank me later.

one hundred. fifty.

2010-11-05T09:45:00.001-05:00

I promise that eventually I will stop making the majority of my posts be about Mumford & Sons/their lyrics.

But not yet.

Because their concert, which I went to this last Sunday, was FANTASTIC.

Even though I smelled like cheap beer afterwards because everyone around us was drunk, and even though the girl screaming the lyrics to every song behind me drowned out their voices at times, and even though I didn't have space to turn in a circle, and even though I had to wait for several hours in the unexpectedly chilly weather, it was wonderful. Good friends, questionable food, good hot chocolate, excellent music.

We were two rows back from the stage, but towards the middle of the concert, Tai made her way up to the front rail, inches from the stage. This was done by careful conversation with "Claire-bear" the drunk woman, and "Roy" the emotional fan who may have wiped away a tear or two during the performance. Taylor so kindly gave me her spot for the last song/encore. After the band left the stage I timidly called out for the set list and was given instead the DRUMSTICK.

Yes. Quite a gift. Quite elated.

After all that...I got sick. So this week has been pretty rotten.

But here's something I read & enjoyed recently, the day after the concert to be precise.

"Why shouldn't we go through heartbreaks? Through those doorways God is opening up ways of fellowship with His Son. Most of us fall and collapse at the first grip of pain; we sit down on the threshold of God's purpose and die away of self-pity, and all so called Christian sympathy will aid us to our death bed. But God will not. He comes with the grip of the pierced hand of His Son, and says - "Enter into fellowship with me; arise and shine." If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart."

-Oswald Chambers

...but then also made me think of the night before...

there will come a time you'll see

with no more tears

and love will not break your heart

but dismiss your fears

get over your hill and see

what you find there

with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

-mumford & sons

& both are good in their different ways.

it's good to have purpose.

it's good to have hope.

one hundred. forty nine.

2010-10-28T18:09:00.003-05:00

We have a cat. His name is Gilbert.

Gilbert has no claws and a great personality, even though he can be a bit bipolar.

Gilbert has a orange cat girlfriend. We call her Anne.

Anne likes to come up and steal Gilbert's food that we leave out on the front porch for him.

Anne also has an orange cat friend. That cat is nameless.

Anne invites her orange cat friend to come and eat food too. We'll walk out to the front porch and it will be a little party, Gilbert entertaining his two friends. They are shy, though, and run away. Plus Gil is a terrible host because he sits in the corner sulking.

The word has gotten out to other neighborhood animals that we leave out a decent amount of food.

Bill, the friendly possum, makes his way up our stairs for a little snack on occasion.

Lou, the brave raccoon has surprised me more than one early morning when I walk out at 5 to go to work.

I send Kanoa after him. Lou climbs a tree. I have nightmares of Lou leaping onto me from some low branch on a windy morning. True story.

Anyhow. Life is madness with the show & trying to figure out what I'm doing with school [and my life].

Work stays the same. Met a voice-over actor the other day. I think he was the first voice-over actor I'd ever met [i love my job & meeting people with random professions/interests]. Unfortunately, the market isn't too huge for that kind of specialty so he's working at some world food/decor store. He says he spends all his money on European decor he doesn't need and has no place for instead of being a rich voice-over actor. He also spends his money on White Chocolate Mocha's with an extra shot. I would know.

I had so much more to write about Derek Webb and Oswald Chambers and leaves and paths that you follow. Too tired. Let's chat about it some other time, maybe while listening to music & eating nutella?

one hundred. forty eight.

2010-10-25T13:04:00.003-05:00

why yes, i will make a yellow sweater all by myself.

thank you for asking.

took a run today. this is a case of something i like to call follow-through. rare, but delightful.

I bought a new hat just because.

it was $3.

[must stop spending money!]

I wish I could be one of the 6 items of clothing people.

Give the rest of my clothes away.

Plan a year to spend no money on clothes.

Make all my own clothes.

I also wish I was a nomad.

I think bits & pieces of me are.

I think if I was forced to be a nomad I would excel.

so lets just do it.

wouldn't that be liberating?

To travel according to weather and food, in small communities?

A gypsy.

I could be a gypsy.

Never wash my hair.

I could do that.

But then again I would miss my feet in one place.

I would miss Christmas parties & family

long weekends

a job

but Kanoa could come with me and be my guard dog, so that's good.

Kanoa would make an excellent gypsy.

one hundred. forty seven.

2010-10-23T22:36:00.003-05:00

The interviewer from my last post was hiring guys to hang Christmas lights.

Fascinating.

That goes on the list of odd jobs I don't think about.

Others include people who write fortunes for fortune cookies & bicycle taxi drivers.

Popped some popcorn tonight.

I wonder what a spectacular phenomenon it must have been the first time someone discovered popcorn. That must have been the mystery of the ancient world. Popcorn. First a kernel, then a fluffy little puff. Incredible.

I need to start running again.

one hundred. forty six.

2010-10-21T17:25:00.002-05:00

Sitting in Barnes & Noble.

I'm sitting in cafe section.

I could give the barista here a few good tips on being nice.

This guy is crabby.

That's one downside to being a barista, you can never have a bad day.

If you do, you'd better not let people know.

They don't know how to react.

I know this from real life experience. Tried to tell someone it was a rough weekend, they literally looked away from me. Last time I ever told someone I had a rough weekend while at work.

But really, the more I look at it

life is messy.

life and love and the whole bit.

All so messy.

Sometimes I think I have a plan

or have it all figured out

somehow it shatters

slowly I realize that more things are made of glass than I thought.

Not everything is as it seems.

I'm betting the guy sitting next to me here is getting annoyed by my incessant sniffing. Sorry.

Whoops. Better stop sniffing. He's not got an interview going now about 3 feet from me.

This is interesting.

When describing himself, the interviewee said he definitely had Christmas spirit.

He's a little portly, I wonder if there is a hot-shot Santa position that is open somewhere.

Can no longer concentrate on blogging. Must eavesdrop.

one hundred. forty five.

2010-10-18T12:59:00.002-05:00

My new laptop has a face recognition system.

Now, instead of using a password when I log on, it scans my face.

This brings much excitement in the day-to-day because I get to feel like a spy every time I log on. Feels like I'm about to see some top secret information when I'm going to check my email.

It also has a voice recognition thing where I control the computer with my voice alone. It's very strange. It would be cool & spy-like if it actually understood what I was saying and didn't make bizarre sentences like:

Taylor is faint and lumped by all

when I'm trying to say

Taylor is fat and loathed by all.

Went to the city yesterday.

It was quite exhausting. Or maybe it was just a weary week.

Sometimes I like to think I would do really well living/studying in the city but more and more I am questioning that.

Unless the city was abroad. Maybe in England. Where I was studying for a semester....

[something to think about.]

I bought the Strict Joy songbook, so I am now going to go & play wonderfully melancholy piano music, become brilliant at it, and then wow you with it at some point.

I've decided I'm going to play at some open mic night.

At this point I just figure: why not?

one hundred. forty four.

2010-10-13T13:11:00.002-05:00

hey hey.

What a beautiful day!

After completely losing my mind at work I stepped outside & breathed a sigh of relief.

Drove home

took a solid nap outside

did some knitting

& began to read the 7th Harry Potter over again in expectation of part 1 coming out in November.

You can say it:

I am a nerd.

I hope you spent time outside today too.

We got in a spectacular array of new teas at work.

I'm a huge tea person

as you can maybe see by the title of my blog.

[tea & whimsy]

It was a bit overwhelming though. Find places for tea, display new tea, try new tea...

I love the stressful parts of my job:

"Shoot. Today I have to measure, package & store a bunch of loose-leaf, aromatic delicious teas, and try samples along the way. Kill me now."

life plods along as merrily as always.

i alternate between writing a story & dreaming of fame

lying on my bed, flattened by thoughts of my future

making a mess while trying to cook pasta

dark anxiety

hopehopehope

one hundred. forty three.

2010-10-11T14:47:00.002-05:00

Got a new laptop the other day. I am now officially done spending money. A car. A laptop. This is what grownup people do, so look at me, growing up.

Took Kanoa for a walk in the forest preserve yesterday. She was muddy & in all of her glory. We made her stay still so that Taylor could take a picture. She is sleeping all day today because yesterday wore her out. Old dog.

My great-grandpa passed away this morning. He renewed his wedding vows with my great-grandma last summer at the family reunion. They were married 61 years this year. He was the sort of man you never imagined passing away, because he'd always be doing push-ups at family functions and be out playing golf all the time.

I'm trying to wrap my head around everything that's happened in the past 2 months. It's too exhausting.

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

[Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind]

one hundred. forty two.

2010-10-03T19:14:00.002-05:00

Two things that I have been thinking of lately:

1. How sad it is when I hear people [many of them] discussing how they are looking forward to the weekend. I think there is an alarming amount of people who really just live for the weekend. I can't even count how many times in the coffee shop I see people dragging on Monday, completely cheerless for the start for another week. By the time Thursday rolls around they are living for the weekend. Literally. They live for weekends. That's a sad life when 5 days out of 7 are so dismal.

2. I would love to spend an entire day with a lovely person just listening to music. 16 hours of music straight, sitting somewhere outside, laying down in some grassy area, just listening to music.

Maybe at certain songs we'd jump around.

Or take a nap.

We'd definitely eat.

I can't even begin to explain how much I love music & how much I would love to do that.

That would be a good day.

one hundred. forty one.

2010-09-29T16:25:00.002-05:00

My brother is moving out of his apartment. My sister & I cleaned it for him after he got his stuff out of there.

Signs you are cleaning a bachelor pad:
There is mold in the coffee maker.
There is no food in the fridge except for eggs that expired in July and a random condiment.
There is nothing in the freezer except for 3 bags of cigars.
Oven is very clean, probably because a bachelor doesn't need to cook his protein powder in the oven.
Cleaning products are completely full. Odor eliminator spray, however, is nearly empty.
Laundry detergent completely full. Odor eliminator acts as clothes freshener as well!

So. That was a grimy 2 hours of cleaning.

one hundred. forty.

2010-09-28T16:23:00.000-05:00

you make me want to wear dresses
& wear my hair down.
so let's throw our hands out the window
& drive out of this town.

[see that, i rhymed down with town.
that's called poetry, kids.]

i keep listening to wedding day by rosie thomas and applying it to my life.
I'M going to be carefree & let nothing pass me by never ever again.
I don't have cheap cigarettes in my car
but I'm going to drive under skyline & sunshine
drink good wine in vineyards
& get asked to dance.
it's gonna be so grand.

speaking of driving & cars
I'VE FINALLY FOUND ONE.
actually, it was completely an answer to prayer because while my mom & i were sitting in the coffee shop talking about the struggle to find a car, a customer came up and told me that she was planning on selling her 98 Honda Civic but had not gotten around to it yet. Fast forward a few days and a good review from my mechanic, she accepted my low offer - BOOM BAM. this girl has got a car.
well, tomorrow i will, when she signs it over to me.
beautiful things happen in the coffee shop.
now my mom won't have to wake up at 4:45a.m. to drive to me work every morning.
[sorry mom.]

I've been reading "My Utmost For His Highest" pretty much every day, enjoying it thoroughly. It's very revealing of my misconceptions & preconceived notions regarding my life as Christian and what is expected of me. At the base, it's so much simpler than I allow, but in that it's quite difficult.
I've decided to take some time to read the Bible from cover to cover like I would eat up other books I read. I don't really eat up the Bible, but I'd like to. Usually I just push it around on my plate, count how many bites until the end, chew a morsel for some time. I'd like to stick it in my purse and read it not with the solemn presence of daily devotionals, but as a BOOK, not depreciating it's truth but taking time to appreciate language and history as I would with other books, get wrapped up in people & ideas & emotions. I've never taken time to just READ it without hunting for something or listlessly reading a daily dose, checking it off my list of things to do. You know? Maybe you don't know, but there it is.

there is a design
an alignment
a cry of my heart to see
the beauty of love as it was made to be.

one hundred. thirty nine.

2010-09-20T19:04:00.003-05:00

[i wish that you could see what i see.
here.

take my eyes & see the world for a moment the way i do.
look at you the way that i look at you.
here.]

i love early mornings in the coffee shop.
how many times have i written that?
stop by & try my new favorite treat.
a soy latte with honey & real cinnamon swirled in the espresso.
yum. :]]
i spilled coffee all over my shoes today.
that's 3 pairs of shoes with coffee on them now.
a bit ridiculous.

i've been thinking about watches lately.
i've always been against watches
but now i'd really like a vintage watch.
i'm on the hunt for the perfect one.

ho-hum. off to knit.
& watch a movie where claire danes is autistic.
[claire is just such a friendly name.]
no, but seriously, kids, i'm going to knit.
don't try and stop me.

one hundred. thirty eight.

2010-09-17T12:16:00.000-05:00

i have been getting into mumford & sons quite a bit.

at first i was just a poser.

"oh yeah, i LOVE them! great band. great music."

but really, i had barely heard anything about them. mostly i just liked the people who liked them. so i liked them too.

this got difficult when people asked me my favorite song.

"oh, i mean...all of them! right? they are just...so good. can't even decide."

anyhow, now i have moved past that. not that i have favorite song now because i really do like several of them most. their music & lyrics are grand.

i am an honest fan.

sometimes i have conversations with customers & it's almost like we are speaking different languages. I just find it very difficult to communicate with them. you know what i mean? have you ever had those people where you just can't talk to each other very well? someone is mumbling, or making references you don't understand but thought you did, everyone is confused...
such a conversation happened the other day:
[man comes up to counter for refill]
me: you need a refill?
him: yup. hey, i heard the breaking news in the mens bathroom! you're getting a lobster tail!
me: [wonders if i heard wrong when he said mens bathroom] Oh, really? I had no idea. I guess I'm out of the loop.
him: yup! that's what I heard! Lobster tail!
me: [fairly certain i did hear mens bathroom] Wow, well I guess I'll have to visit the mens bathroom more... often...[trails off]
him: [looks at me strangely. maybe he didn't say mens bathroom? gives dark, bitter laugh as if I just make a joke about the apocalypse.] No, not necessary. Not advised.
[Brief silence as I hand him his refilled coffee cup.]
Him: Yup, and it's going to go right there! [points vaguely in the direction of the wall]
Me: Oh! Very interesting! [I look in the direction he pointed at, thoroughly confused. Man goes & stands in front of television playing news. I sit & try to make sense of our conversation...did he say mens bathroom?]

I figured out later that he did indeed say mens bathroom. There is an ad in there for lobster mania. I still have no explanation for the rest of the conversation.

one hundred. thirty seven.

2010-09-13T11:33:00.003-05:00

good things:

a solo dance party with a bottle of mousse as an impromptu microphone. [this will be] an everlasting love & make your own kind of music. the curtains were open. the neighbors may have been entertained.

the renegade craft fair in wicker park. inspiring.

italian food.

finishing my book!

starting "a walk in the woods" which is already brilliant.

buttons.

yellow shoes.

bad things:

my dog POOPING in the basement. a poop of massive proportions. terrible thing to wake up to.

::edit::

things i don't understand:

granny panties.

people who down shots of alcohol. why? let's be honest, it tastes terrible.

twitter. please explain this concept to me.

adult teeth coming in at age 22. stupid & unnecessary.

one hundred. thirty six.

2010-09-08T19:41:00.004-05:00

time for a change tonight.
hair dye?
yes.

& oh,
i'd like to watch "A Beautiful Mind."
and read some books for the second time.
i'd like to see your face
read your mind
simple & plain
like words on a page.

one of those things happened at work today where i'm still laughing about it, but if i told you, you wouldn't think it was funny.
the guy who was getting his coffee didn't think it was funny either.
[which made it even more funny.]

do yourself a favor.
listen to "wedding day" [rosie thomas]
then "sigh no more" [mumford & sons]
followed by "warning sign" [coldplay]
ending with any jon foreman song of your choosing.
this is my playlist for today.
just some plain old good music.

one hundred. thirty five.

2010-09-06T19:32:00.003-05:00

dear autumn,

hello. you seem to be making your way my way.
i must say that i'm delighted you've nearly arrived. i've just recently mowed the yard, so it's all ready for browned leaves to be tossed upon it.
i also used your nearness to buy myself a new pair of boots.
let me know if there is anything i can do to make you feel more welcome & please do linger for as long as you can. i've missed your friendly face, probably ever since you last left.
don't tell the others, but you truly are my favorite.

yours most sincerely,

christina.

one hundred. thirty four.

2010-08-31T17:41:00.004-05:00

please take this moment to notice that i have changed my background.
this is the first time this has ever happened.
seeing as i am completely stupid when it comes to computers, html & all of that nonsense, this is a bold move for me.
thank you blogger, for just making me a little button i could push to change it.
i can't really compete with the people who have really lovely, creative pages, so this will have to do.

there is one guy who comes into the coffee shop & every time it's an interesting affair.
he's a real hippie guy.
one time he stopped in & cursed us for using sugar packets because of the waste we were accumulating.
another time he stopped in & told us he was using our old coffee bags to carry around his grains & vegetables.
another time he stopped in & filled us in on how he was going to go and live in a sustainable community & smoke a lot of weed.
he stopped in today. he brought his own mug, of course, to save the earth.
i noticed some milky liquid left in the bottom of his mug, so i figured i'd rinse it for him. also, we always fill mugs with hot water to warm the cup before we put in the coffee.
tragedy strikes.
the liquid in the bottom was actually his ORGANIC ALMOND MILK!!
logical situation: tell me as you're handing me the cup that you already put in your own cream. this is what people have said before. pretty simple.
actual situation: literally watch me pour the milk down the drain and then cry out in horror.
He settled for some soymilk.
He did make a stink about it though because our soymilk is not organic like his almond milk was. Therefore his cup of coffee was less "conscious."
Our drain, however, is pretty conscious now. drinking up some organic almond milk....

A man [double cup 2% latte guy] told me today that I looked older since the last time he saw me in the early summer.
This was nice to hear.
I never get told that. Instead I get asked what high school I go to.
Also was nice because I actually feel older.
In saying that, perhaps I betray my youth. It seems that older people always feel younger than they are, making them frustrated by their broken down bodies, while younger people feel "so old" but never really are.
But still.
I do feel oldish, somehow.
But that's also not good because in looking "older" or as he stated afterward "more mature," reveals something about my life at this point.
Before people thought I was younger because I apparently had some youthful appearance, a mixture of awkwardness, a certain amount of innocence and a measure of trust.
Things are different now. I feel different now. Is it so overdone to say that I feel like I've lost bits of that? I don't care if it is. It's the truth, though perhaps I'll back on this & roll my eyes.

"& if everything is measured by the hole it leaves behind
then this mountain has been leveled
& there's no more diamonds in the mine."

Goodness gracious, look at me.
go ahead, roll your eyes.
start me off I just will not quit.
Enough of this.
Do you know, I played the piano tonight & it was quite marvelous?

one hundred. thirty three.

2010-08-28T20:34:00.003-05:00

Lately I have been enjoying wine a little bit more.
I've never been much of an alcohol person, in any way. But I've always wanted to be a wine person, or a I-brew-my-own-beer person. You know? It just seems like one of those things that interesting people do. I could be interesting. I could like wine.
Note:: The wine I have been enjoying has been something on the sweeter side, more of a grownup grape juice. I'm going to count it anyway.

This has been a week of dynamic proportions. Started work, had auditions, callbacks & casting for the show, looking for a car [unsuccessful], etc...last night I got 3 hours of sleep. Now it's 8:40 at night and I am still kicking, no nap involved. Strangely, since I've been home from camp in July I've been totally failing at power napping. Usually I excel at a decent power nap. Now I can only occasionally nap, and only when I'm riding in the car [I'm like a baby when it comes to car rides, out like a light]. This is mildly distressing, I have no idea what's happened to me.

I love a good train ride, but do not like being confronted by a drunken guy on the train. Today, on the way home, a jolly man stopped on his way back from the lavatory to ask me what book I was reading. Unfortunately he was too intoxicated to actually understand me. When I told him it was a book on doctrine [it really was, I know that sounds suspiciously like me trying to conceal that I was reading a romance novel...] he bellowed: "WHAT?! DOCTRY?!" loud enough for the whole train to hear. Thank you drunk man.

Here is what I want:
I want a plate of Eggo waffles.
I want to write down everything.
I want to know what to do now.

one hundred. thirty two.

2010-08-25T11:36:00.001-05:00

in short, it's been rough.

the fellow and i are no longer the fellow and i.

it's just the fellow

and i.

you see?

i could go into all of the melodramatic details

in which i become everything typical & cliche about a breakup

[days in pajamas, ice cream sandwiches, sad songs & all that]

but i will practice some self-control.

instead i will say that after all of that

i crawled out of my little pit of self-pity

& the sun was shining.

so, thats good.

i have started back at work, which is grand.

also started choreographing a show

[which i should be working on right now]

which is also grand.

reading some books

finished some other books.

2 books you should think about reading:

The Prodigal God [Timothy Keller]

Food Inc. [A collection of fascinating essays]

I also worked my way through 2 mystery novels which I feel a little bit of guilt about, but only a little bit because they were actually so fun to read.

Guilty pleasures that are good:

A mouthful of whipped cream

Mystery novels

Hours spent on etsy.com

Guilty pleasures that are bad:

Facebook stalking

Impulse buying on etsy.com

Brownies for breakfast

Alright, really going to go & work on dances now.

you go & listen to strict joy by the swell season, tell me how much you love it.

one hundred. thirty one.

2010-08-04T20:33:00.003-05:00

I have just devoured my body weight in whole-wheat blueberry/walnut pancakes.
[i love breakfast for dinner. it seems so rebellious.]
I am also waiting for my zucchini bread to come out of the oven.
I'm convincing myself that zucchini bread is healthy because it comes from zucchini from our garden. Let's forget about the 83 cups of sugar that went into it, shall we?
I'm also trying to convince myself that all of this overeating is completely fine because I worked out for an hour this morning and then for lunch had a spinach salad. The workout was from a workout DVD, one of those aimed for the slightly larger folk who need to lose weight, which makes it all the more disconcerting that I was struggling to keep up. We'll disregard the implications presented by the fact I was having trouble keeping up with a portly person workout DVD.

Bread is out. Did I bake it for too long?? Shooot.

I think I have a loose tooth. I'm 22 and I'm still losing baby teeth. Loving this.
Just wiggled it. Yup. Definitely loose. It kills now.

Tai & mom are watching a movie in the other room, so I should go & join them. I should also multitask and write the fellow a letter. Last night I tried to multitask and crochet a sock while watching "The Young Victoria." The movie = super good. The sock = dismal failure.
& so it goes.

one hundred. thirty.

2010-08-01T17:48:00.002-05:00

the more I read Annie Dillard, the more I want to read.

the more i want to write, too.

Not anything in particular. just to write is enough. just to recall and put down various bits & pieces.

the more i think on it, the greater my resolve grows.

[but how far my resolve is from my carrying out!]

i struggle now & then & now with what defines me

is it you?

is it what i make of myself?

my work?

my music?

the people who call me friend

& what they think of me?

these words, even?

i forget that "in Him we live, and move, and have our being."

He is what defines me.

& His glory is my aim.

To that purpose, then, pressing forward.

one hundred. twenty nine.

2010-07-30T21:01:00.003-05:00

the days move a little slower, now. it feels like molasses just stretching out, sticky in this heat.
at camp the days moved quickly, i was moving on to the next thing the moment i finished something else. if i had free time i had few options: pee, write a quick letter, read a little bit of my book, hang with the rest of the staff.

i've been home alone these past few days. good time to get things done, not always the motivation to follow through. things look so idyllic in my head, before i know it i'm planning on making fresh bread for dinner & i still haven't gotten dressed yet.
i've been able to follow through on some things. made some meals. cleaned the house over, including purging things from my room. finished a hat. did some odd jobs for my dad. checked the mail/facebook/my phone constantly for any word from the fellow. you know, all that stuff.

i have successfully handled most of the issues tied up with duncan, a.k.a. calling the car repair man to verify his death, calling the junkyard in the area to make sure they would take it, called the car repair people again to fill them in and make sure i didn't have to drive all the way up to green bay to settle things. things went over relatively smoothly, especially because of the situation in general.

here are my current options for getting a car:
1. buy a cheap car
2. buy an expensive car and make payments for a few years
3. make do without a car, save that money so that i don't have to make payments later on.
4. make do without a car, blow that money on a trip through Europe.
...the options are endless.

tomorrow is the last day with the family from Tennessee, then visiting an artsy little show that my Dad is participating in. should be an exciting day.
blegh. this post feels dull and insipid. i'm going to eat oreos & drink milk & not write another word.

[except, is it too repetitive to describe this as dull and insipid considering it means basically the same thing? i feel like i do that quite a bit. i'm just really making a point...]

one hundred. twenty eight.

2010-07-27T21:06:00.003-05:00

I found him.
I wasn't looking for him, but he came into my life just the same.
I tried to escape him but he kept popping up
just behind me
right next to me
walking in front of me
he was inescapable.

Perhaps I should explain:
one of my biggest pet peeves is nose breathers.
heavy nose breathers.
recently i met the biggest heavy nose breather that exists under the sun.
the volume and force that he was able to use to while nose breathe was astonishing, really.
if it didn't make me cringe i might have been able to be impressed.
it was almost as if he had two noses doing the job.

anyways. that is nowhere near the biggest news in my life, but it was something i felt i needed to share. everything else is typical. i love my family, for instance, as i've just spent many days with all my extended family. crazy, to say the least. but also fantastic.
also: my car, hugo duncan, is dead. anyone want to sell me their gently used car?

one hundred. twenty seven.

2010-07-23T23:33:00.000-05:00

Back home!

It's good being back home. It's not good hearing radio music again. That was the first thing that logged in my brain as something I didn't miss, specifically hearing Lady Gaga. Did not miss Lady Gaga. Other things I didn't miss: our cat, Gilbert, who decided to pee on Taylor as a welcome home gift. Who could ask for anything more?

Typical of my life, the adventure back home was anything but normal & easy. Duncan [my car] decided to poop out and die somewhere on the outskirts of Green Bay. Taylor and I sit for 5 hours at a diner with a 7 dollar fruit plate featuring canned peaches & pineapple, followed by a table at a classy BP station, being serenaded by country music.

Thankfully, we pooped out right next to all of this wonderment and also by a car repair place instead of in the middle of the UP with no cellphone reception. So, long story short, nobody died because of the country music, Chris came & picked us up, and the car repair place took my car and will do their best to bring Duncan back to life. The chances are looking slim.

pros & cons of duncan dying:

pro - more train time. i love the train.

con - riding in my mom's car, eunice, when we can't take the train. no air conditioning, no sun roof. today was literally the hottest day of the year.

pro from that situation - stopping by culvers for ice cream.

con from that situation - i realized i need to begin my work out routine again.

to be honest, i miss camp. i miss the boy. i miss the people i might never see again for the rest of my life. however, the transition to home life went much better this year. i was able to put all of my bags away and do 2 loads of laundry my first day home. this is extremely rare. usually i mope about and spend my time wondering what camp people are doing, or crying because it's oatmeal morning and i am eating apple jacks. now i am enjoying my apple jacks and my time here, seeing friends & family and my dearest kanoa again. things move back to normal so quickly. taylor bakes cookies. kanoa needs to go outside. we eat dinner at the table. my father and i share a mild argument about the meaning of a phrase, is it right or wrong. kanoa wants to play. the dryer is still broken so i hang my laundry outside. it begins to rain. life moves along.

it's getting late. i should sleep.

one hundred. twenty six.

2010-06-08T22:32:00.001-05:00

I love when people really truly think that I am lying when I say I'm 21.

I love when the 40 year old lady who cuts my hair tells me I need to get out & live on my own, be my own person before I settle down. Need to figure out how to not rely on anyone.

It's sad when being lonely is bad, but so is relying on other people.

It's not good to be alone. Even when I most struggle with my independent streak, in the deepest depths of my inner self I really don't want to be too alone & self-reliant. It's good for a time but is short lived.

Went to a She & Him concert yesterday.

FREE.

Not a whole lot of better sentences than free she & him concert.

Free she & him concert in the city.

Free she & him concert in the city with friends.

It doesn't get much better.

I am a huge fan of she & him, their music just makes me want to bop around & sing loud & drive barefoot. Run screaming through some field or something.

Mostly bop around though.

[look them up!!]

This particular concert happened to have all of the unique people that you happen to pass on the street in one location. Seriously. Everyone that I have ever passed & said: "Wow, that is a neat looking person." They were all gathered together.

Funny thing when all of those people stand together.

Everyone looks fairly typical.

[similar to the show at the metro, but 10x more.]

Days are numbered until I leave for camp.

I am all of anxious/hesitant as well as excited/impatient. Prayerful & hopeful too. Hopeful but objective? Realistic? We'll see.

However: packing is currently nearly non-existent. Tomorrow I will do all final laundry & that should give me a good drop kick into it. Maybe.

Last day of work was last week. It was actually pretty sad. I am really going to miss the fellow baristas/customers SO MUCH. I feel bad missing out on their summers. I'm so used to talking to them almost every day, I'm so connected to a lovely small group of commuters. Every morning I have the opportunity to wish them well, which is a surprisingly wonderful task to fulfill. My two favorite customers are an old couple, Bill & Dee, and they gave me hugs before I left & told me they loved me. Just the sweetest old couple.

I just looked at the clock. 10:30??

I was supposed to go to bed early tonight. Drat. Still need to bag up my laundry.

Suppose that's it for tonight, then. Sleep well. :]] Be grateful you are not here because my dog is farting up a storm. It is extremely pungent, I am unable to breath.

one hundred. twenty five.

2010-05-31T20:05:00.002-05:00

she & him concert: 7 days.

leave for camp: 12 days.

shopping for camp done: none.

packing for camp done: none.

days left of work: 4 [this is indeed bittersweet. i love my job.]

i have decided to no longer say that i'm going to do something. when i say that i am going to do something, it never actually happens. instead, i will wait until after i do something & then simply announce that i did it. or not. just keep it a secret. or just tell you.

for instance:

said that i would go to ireland.

said that i would get my nose pierced.

said that i would be married by 19.

never ever happened.

maybe if i don't speak them aloud, they'll happen.

one hundred. twenty four.

2010-05-23T21:09:00.004-05:00

tell me your secrets & ask me your questions

oh let's go back to the start

running in circles, coming up tails

heads on a science apart

nobody said it was easy

it's such a shame for us to part

nobody said it was easy

no one ever said it would be this hard

[oh take me back to the start]

one hundred. twenty three.

2010-05-13T19:48:00.003-05:00

this post has a good title.
123
good number.
brings to mind classic Michael Jackson songs.

today I did no driving but felt very compelled to.
sometimes i'll be driving on the highway
or tollway
or any road, really
and just feel the urge to not stop
or not turn to get to my destination
but to just keep going.
this urge is, at times, weak.
more of a whimsical thought, really.
at times it is stronger
most strong.
my hands tingle a little.
i might just do it.
[but I never follow through].
today it was a screaming command
blaring in my head
so much so that if i did
i might very well be headed straight for Tennessee right now
with no intention of coming back soon.
that's exactly where i wanted to go, too.
it was just one of those days.
a driving day.
a crazy day, really.
i just wanted to do something crazy.
after I pushed driving to Tennessee from my mind I contemplated getting my nose pierced.
Nope. Too scared to do it alone.
When I ran out of crazy ideas that I won't do but want to
I put my jogging clothes on
& did something super crazy.
Ran a whopping 2 miles
came home
worked out some more.
Look out, this girl is completely bonkers.

So, it's 8:00 now
I made some cookies
Put on a flannel
[wishing I was 6 hours closer to Tennessee.]

one hundred. twenty two.

2010-05-09T15:04:00.003-05:00

Most Monday mornings I ask customers how their weekend was.

All of the senior citizen customer interpret that question to have a hidden meaning of "Please inform me of all the pains afflicting your body."

Oh. And they do.

Will that be me one day?

There are many good things in life.

One of them is definitely singing "In My Place" the live 2003 version while driving with the sun roof open.

Thanks to my musical theater upbringing, I have swallowed the idea of "If you can't find words to express yourself, sing about it." It's quite vexing because for the first time I am finding myself without a song to channel my emotions through. At happy or trying or pensive or funny times of my life - a song. I've found a song. Very perplexing to be a in a place with no song.

Then, i was singing "In My Place" and found it pretty fitting. So that's it. For now.

What else?

I feel a little bit like the disciples in the boat, the storm raging around. Not enough faith so I'm a little frightened. There is a plan & reason, it's just outside my line of sight.

[please, calm this storm.]

Plenty of things to look forward to:

free she & him concert

the 5k [yes!!]

a wedding

blissful weeks up at camp

I just finished reading Brave New World & just started Amusing Ourselves To Death, which is a fantastic book pairing to read one right after the other. To say that it was interesting would barely begin to describe my thoughts. There is honestly just too much to take in & muddle over. I did read Brave New World once in the past but this read through showed some startling comparisons to the society in the book & to our own. That's basically what Amusing Ourselves to Death is about as well, kind of asking the question - What if Huxley was right? Fascinating.

It's time for a mid-afternoon bowl of cereal. I love cereal.

I really need to update this more....

one hundred. twenty one.

2010-03-26T15:02:00.003-05:00

it's a friday night.

i am 21.

my plans are:

run

do taxes with my mom and brother

crochet

read my book

maybe watch a movie

what a lamewad.

one hundred. twenty.

2010-03-12T22:30:00.002-06:00

worked at the restaurant today.

i love this weather and how

all the business people near my work take their lunch breaks

to walk around, down the street

their nice pants & blazers flapping in the breeze.

they look a little out of place

walking around in clean, pressed work clothes

in dirty streets,

patterned ties not staying but flying up in mens faces.

ladies tugging fitted pencil skirts down.

when they arrive to eat lunch at the restaurant

& come to place their order

i notice that those tight-lipped accountants & worried assistants

have smoothed the lines on their foreheads,

managing a brief smile.

Running has been going pretty well.

Every time i bring up running to a friend their response is something along the lines of

"Running is simple, i am amazing and could run for 72 hours straight without stopping."

This makes me question my entire life.

I honestly had no idea running could be so easy for some people because for me it's really just super challenging. & always has been. I used to be fast when I was younger, but then we only had about 4 neighbors in Wisconsin to compare to. Now it's honestly just mind blowing when I think of average, everyday friends being able to run lengthy distance or extremely fast times. It's as if they are telling me they are capable of time travel or something.

Even some old guy who is a customer at work told me he runs a 10k pretty regularly. And he is OLD.

Speaking of time travel, I recently watched The Time Travelers Wife, which also made me question my life.

Not seriously, but that movie was just so sad. I thought it was going to be terrible, like the first chapter or so of the book that I struggled through before I gave up. But not at all. Firstly, I am a fan of that actress [Rachel something?]. Secondly, I just experienced many heart-wrenching moments while watching. Also, I was strangely elated to hear the voice of the fellow when he called after the movie was over, because I knew we were both stationed quite firmly in time & not liable to suddenly relocate to forty years in the future.

Another life evaluation topic would be how I am reading "Crazy Love" and enjoying it much more than I ever thought I would & how it's making me think a lot about how I spend my time, where I put my money and how I treat my family/friends/everyday people I come in contact with. Read it so that we can talk about it & you can tell me what you think.

It's late. I need to run tomorrow before I visit a book sale with my sister, so I need to get up at a decent time.

Tomorrow is Saturday.

I wish I was 10 and still pumped for Saturday Morning Cartoons.

one hundred. nineteen.

2010-03-02T14:59:00.003-06:00

I currently cannot get enough of:
"Much Farther To Go" by Rosie Thomas
"I and Love and You" by The Avett Brothers
"Complainte de la Butte" by Rufus Wainwright

I'm not entirely sure what Rufus Wainwright is singing because the majority of it is in French, so he could be speaking profanities...however the song is so fantastic.

merely stretching my back out yesterday has severely limited my mobility today. i'm walking around like the hunchback of notre dame. it's a terrible feeling.

I have begun obsessive planning for my modernish dance class for the spring. I can't believe Cinderella is over & I'm already moving on to the next thing. There's not time to mull over the fact that a show I spent months working on is finished. It's strange though, to be at the end of that road and look back, see what I wished I had done differently, things that I'll miss.

Today I gave my new car, Hugo Duncan [most commonly referred to by his middle name] a little bath. He really looks striking now. I spilled a jamba smoothie like an idiot on his clean, tan interior the other day and left purple blobs. Don't worry, Curt, I'll clean it up. [Curt is obsessed with car cleanliness & vents that are perfectly lined up. If I punched him in the face and then spilled chips in his truck, he'd be more upset about the chips. True story.]

Now would be a nice time to visit Ireland.

one hundred. eighteen.

2010-02-21T19:42:00.003-06:00

in real life, i associate a face with a name.

i see a short, scruffy neighbor with glasses and search my brain for his name....

gary!

at work, it goes a bit differently. i associate a face with a drink and then a name.

clean shaven, dark haired, chai latte rick.

tiny lady, energetic, super sweet vanilla latte nikki.

geeky with glasses & some sort of striped shirt, keeps-you-guessing-but-maybe-a-tea chris.

big ears older man with friendly smile, skim mocha granita ray.

that's just how it goes. then when in conversation with people outside of work, i refer to them as their name & drink.

"yeah, rick the chai latte guy jammed with rick somebody from cheap trick."

it's just a different world.

we got a bunch of new teas in and my life is heaven. one fruit tea called cloud catcher makes THE MOST AMAZING iced tea, i kid you not. in a close second is our new south sea magic black tea, with some mango or something in it. yum yum. :]]

Just finished our first weekend of Cinderella. The show is so fun, I am thoroughly entertained every time I watch it. Things have definitely slacked off on the to-do list and I definitely haven't been eating as well [i.e. i just scarfed down 4 ferrero rocher's.]. Something to work on next week. Lauren Mansoonie & I have decided to run a 5k in May, so I need to get on the ball training for that. I'm so excited and also quite intimidated. I ran the other day [very seriously minded] and realized I have quite a lot of work ahead of me.

i'm off to eat some FANTASTIC [whole grain] pasta that my sister just made. be jealous.

one hundred.seventeen.

2010-02-02T18:40:00.003-06:00

My boss tells me I'm awkward, specifically the most awkward person.
Eric, my fish side boss tells me I'm a lot loony.
Fernando [Furry], the cook on the fish side tells me I'm a little loco.

WHAT IS THIS.

Suddenly the entire world decided to fill me in on the fact that apparently I'm kind of a strange bird. Good to know.

I'm just going to convince myself that there is actually a compliment lying somewhere underneath the surface of scoffing and run with that.

[p.s. 3 posts in 2 days?! feeling a bit like a lame-o. cutting back.]

one hundred.sixteen.

2010-02-01T18:49:00.002-06:00

just read through much of my old xanga & flipped through several friends old xangas.

really quite bittersweet.

at times a bit heavy on the bitter

or the sweet

[but even in the sweet, it's bitter.]

so much is different.

not bad different.

& i musn't forget that everything has brought me here.

but it's a very surreal feeling.

those were honest entries from all of us.

at times more vulnerable than i think i intended.

i used to think i was so cryptic and & sneaky

but you understood every word.

ugh. digging up the past can be so wonderful

& so very strange.

one hundred.fifteen.

2010-02-01T15:59:00.003-06:00

i just finished a book on new atheism.

i actually wasn't aware there was such a thing as new atheism, but apparently there is. it was fascinating to learn about.

i took a victorian literature class a few years ago [one of my favorite classes] and it discussed the unsteadiness of man after science began to break down theological presuppositions. there was a sense of anxiety as technology progressed and traditions and beliefs were no longer needed/wanted. there was a sense of loss that was exemplified in some of the literature from that period, like "Dover Beach." I love the last part:

The Sea of Faith

Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore

Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.

But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,

Retreating, to the breath

Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear

And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true

To one another! for the world, which seems

To lie before us like a land of dreams,

So various, so beautiful, so new,

Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

And we are here as on a darkling plain

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night.

this poem was also brought up in the book as an illustration of how differently new atheism presents itself. back then it was almost mourning, and now the release from God is seen as a celebration. do away with old beliefs and religion that is holding humanity back and then celebrate true freedom.

very intriguing read.

[i always forget how to spell intriguing.]

kanoa is laying here next to me taking a nap.

i wish i was taking a nap.

over the weekend i went to a show at the metro, which was fantastic.

all of the people you see on the street and think

"that person looks neat/interesting/unusual/charming"

they were all there too.

ho hum. worked at the coffee shop today & again tomorrow.

did i mention that i love working at the coffee shop?

truly, it's nice.

one hundred. fourteen.

2010-01-26T18:18:00.004-06:00

Last week my boss told me that I was the most awkward person he had ever met.
thanks boss.
[however, I can kind of understand why he would say that.]
my boss also told me that i could be a really good stand-up comedian.
apparently that's a profitable profession for awkward people.
under one condition:
i have to be smutty & dirty. that's what sells.
and that's what would be the most hilarious
to see an awkward person telling dirty jokes.
thanks boss.

took a jog today with the doggy. it's nice because she pulls me along when i'm slacking. my dog is lazy & fat but she still runs better than i do. it's nice running in winter, so nice. i bundle up but my body still doesn't overheat like it does in the summer. running in the summer = the worst. i feel so fresh running in the winter & also a little hardcore. it seems to me that only hardcore runners get out in the winter, so i appear to be giving off the perception of a hardcore runner. i'm fine with that perception.
however, hardcore runners probably don't need to get dragged around by their dog....

http://papernstitch.com/product/twig-ring
i want one.

cherry chocolate pecan biscotti tonight. i'm going to make some. i have such a craving.

As Valentines Day approaches, some people who come into the coffee shop feel the need to share their love stories.
Doug loves Diane.
Roger hates Ronda.
all so sweet and dramatic.
Doug, kind of a flavored, skim latte kind of a guy, tells us all about his beautiful Diane and was shocked when we said that we actually knew her, she was a frequent scone buyer and also loved pumpkin spice lattes.
Doug was skeptical at first, but then knew it had to be her at the mention of pumpkin spice lattes.
His Diana goes crazy for those.
He then told us that we weren't supposed to know they were dating because they work together.
We vowed to keep it a secret.
So don't tell.

one hundred. thirteen.

2010-01-24T16:42:00.002-06:00

When my dog sheds it is not a usual affair - a few stray hairs make their way onto furniture and somehow into a bowl of oatmeal.
No.
Clumps of hair float to the floor when you pet her, completely COAT anything you wear and all furniture, end up in most food and on your pillow so you breath it in and choke when you are trying to fall to sleep.
How she is not bald I'll never know.
This is fairly similar to myself, actually.
I don't have season where I shed more hair, I am always shedding and wondering how any hair is left on my head.
Close friends and family have taken to standing behind me and picking at the hair that sticks to my back like those helpful monkeys you always see at the zoo.

for the rest:
[me, with a head full of words & not one useful expression]

one hundred. twelve.

2010-01-18T22:15:00.003-06:00

while searching "tea and whimsy" i found ANOTHER BLOG titled "tea and whimsy."
that blog has something to do with country weddings.
anyhow. i found that interesting.
[sometimes i feel that i fill my blog with completely useless information, such as this.]

a car accident has a funny way of sneaking large amounts of money out of your pockets. that and every payment comes at once: insurance, phone bill, insurance, buy a car... i'll be lucky if i have $30 left in my account at the end of the month.

my current outlook on life goes something like this:
today - worked. got home. took a look at my finances. fell into state of mild depression [only slight sarcasm]. instead of then using time wisely to make myself feel better i stalked random people on facebook that i hardly know/never see anymore, looked up uninteresting videos, made $15 impulse purchase on itunes with christmas gift cards, pretended to work out for 20 minutes [lame crunches, schlump over feet in half-hearted stretch, repeat] and then ate massive plate of leftover spaghetti with two cookies. talked to fellow on telephone [good! but also lame because i miss his face], vowed to go to bed at 10:00 and yet here i am.

of course, nothing is really all that bad.
quick fix for life:
wake up earlier.
delete facebook [con - won't stay in contact as well with friends. pro - will find ways to contact real friends. putting this idea on the back burner.]
shed useless spending, i.e. things i believe that i am entitled to such as danishes, expensive bottled tea and yet another new scarf.
make all of my own clothes.
find edible plants to sustain me.
stop making blog posts and instead make interesting, profound and witty journal entries that i will one day publish and then make millions off of.

it's all so simple.
starting now.
goodnight.

p.s. also, a side note: should i maybe start using correct grammar/capital letters? putting this idea on the back burner...

one hundred. eleven.

2010-01-10T17:56:00.002-06:00

i enjoy: sitting on the floor in the room, eating nutella out of the jar with my fingers and listening to records.

i have many crochet/knit dream projects that i need to finish.

i have to work out. this is nothing new.

tai and i are watching "an american in paris." excellent.

i got in a car accident this last thursday & would be quite content if that never happened again. airbags = pretty frightening phenomenon. it could have been a lot worse, although i did completely total patrick, our beloved toyota.

on a car search. it's going alright, thanks to help from the fellow. in the meantime it's going to be fun arranging who gets the car for school/work/extra events. jolly.

a week in florida was an excellent time. i came back feeling strangely more growed up. why is that?

i did get a chance to do some great reading. read forest gump: turns out it wasn't as great as the movie [in my opinion]. shocking. usually the book is so much better! i won't spoil it for you, but the ending is completely different. also read "the boy who loved windows" which is an EXCELLENT book that my sister suggested. It's the story of an autistic child, but it spoke largely on so many other issues. such a fascinating read, i could read it over and over. i also started and am about halfway through "to kill a mockingbird." how i made it so far without reading this book is beyond me, but so far so good.

gene kelly is such a superstar.

still working on Cinderella. sometimes i forgot how much i really do enjoy working with the kids on the weekends. this director, Kerry, is so great at stepping outside of herself at rehearsals and being just so much fun for the kids, completely devoting time and energy into making sure their experience is just as important as the eventual outcome of the show. It's a very selfless way to work with kids. It could be so easy to just not engage and do what you need to do then leave, but she encourages her team & the cast so much, i wonder how she has so much energy.

my fingers are itching to crochet.