the mormon sorority i.e. sisterhood

my life is somewhat; uneventful. My days and nights are spent with my friends: roommates at home. Whether we are doing homework, taking tests, watching movies or having dance out parties, or whether it is a week night or a weekend; it's all the same. Oh, and we eat the whole time. But the point is, my world is rather small. I love it dearly; but there's not much to report on. It's hard to describe the kinky relationship Becca and Alisa have about Jessica; the dramatic one that they laugh at or about because they don't know her well enough to understand the reasoning behind her uniqueness. They've been turned off by differences that they could probably understand if given more time. But I don't think they see that.
It's hard to convey exactly how it feels when becca zings you with her cold sarcasm and you learn: don't bother becca when she's stressed.
It's unbelievably wonderful when you've got papers to write, tests to study for, tedious mountains of homework due, your brain feels like it's about to explode, and becca says "do you want me to make you some mac & cheese?". The relief and love you feel in that moment; is wonderful. We may get snippy with each other, we may laugh our heads off when one of us chokes on our spit, or has heart burn or serious farting issues. We may not understand why on earth Jessica's food seems to "go bad" three times faster than everyone else's, how Alisa stomachs hot dogs plain and cold, why I stick marshmallows and chocolate chips in my pb&j's when my mouth gets bored, or why we all get terribly giddy when Jonathan and Racheal do cute twitterpated things together; but we love each other. In our weird, estrogen filled temperamental way. And when we're all crammed into one twin bed watching a chick flick, swooning over how romantic the main man is, and someone mentions how awesome we are going to be as old ladies in 60 odd years; your heart just smiles. And it doesn't matter that your friday night was spent in the testing center and you came home to a bunch of women to play boggle, or that your mind is always in homework mode, or that the highlight of your day could be finding an unopened bag of gummie worms in your underwear drawer. Life is pretty stinkin fantastic. Feeling nerdy and fat and tired and unshowered with five girls that you'd call sisters. Sharing laughing episodes, wardrobes, rice a roni, toilet paper and shower time. My small world is a wonderful one.

I suck at keeping up a blog.

Sorry to both of you who follow this, but this is obviously not going to be a very entertaining blog. Good thing our friendship can definitely survive this unfortunate experience.

so to any who are interested, I've been writing poetry a bunch, here are a few of them.
Please tell me what you think, haha be as honest and critical as possible please : )
Seriously. do.

----

that block just sat there.
being square.
sitting fat and solid
that block of wood
or metal or cotton candy
mocking my indecision
willing to be anything
if I would just start chipping away.



----


I think I mailed you something
yeah I'm pretty sure it was important
in between those penned letters
inside that envelope
the white ones and the pink
I hope it got to you
safe and sound
across those countries and down
that not so blue ocean
when it gets to you,
could you take care of it for me
or send it back
if you want
after all,
it's just a heart.




----



Sometimes late at night I'll look up
to see the glint of the moons light
on the kitchen floor tiles
and sometimes
if the hands of the hours have circled enough
I can almost see
the misty spirits
laughter almost catching on the still breeze,
twirling cross the floor
usually just two
a mother in her smooth heels and sw ay ing skirt
and her little girl
hair flinging out as they spin
somewhere between the blinks of my eyes
and the tables dim shadows
I can feel their simple delight
forgetting the flour they spilled
and the days they've had
just twirling on those checkered squares.


----



they say
what do they say
and why
do they think
we should listen
who are we after all
just a bunch of i's
a bunch of i's just like them


----



Poetry filches the thoughts from the closets of my brain
the ones I try to stuff and hide
so that I'm happy

I'm not sure I'm okay with taking them out and trying them on
especially when I already know they fit me.


----



stare at me all day all night
tell me what you think you find
because i'd be intrigued
amused
and embarrassed
even though, you probably still won't have seen
me
maybe I do wear myself on my sleeve.



----


hey woman
lets get old
lets get old and spit out seeds
from rocking chairs made living on a porch
that creaks
all year long, yes all year long

hey woman
lets get old
lets get old and watch rich kids
scooting down streets and yelling at dogs
not our dogs
cause they just sleep, to the porches creaks
and creaks

hey woman
lets get old
lets get old and still be in love
slow and smiley in our wrinkles
no one will know just how deep we run
we run on that creaky porch
all covered with seeds
like young rich kids
while our dogs sleep.
all year long love
all year long.


----


i skipped to the middle
it looked rather dry
and while my toes surely thank me
for jumping ahead
maybe I missed out on some life
in that
puddle.



----


these eyes in their reflective pools,
hold lakes as deep as barrel drums.
with lightening lines run red like spools,
of wire twisting towards their slums.

these lids sagged down with shores of sand
straggle south and north as feeble tides;
while the moon's whip lashes reprimand
wholly consumed in these darkest rides.

will his hellish chains clasp ever on?
white tyrant rumbling 'gainst heavens star.
or will it pale at the spears of dawn?
and screaming death, free these eyes from mar.