surprise surprise, it's been a while

I suppose I could write to you about the fact that I stayed in bed until 2 pm today, catching up on all of the sleep and relaxation that I missed out on this week, and that I have spent the four hours since then doing homework so that I can go out tonight and do kid things. Until tomorrow when I'll do more homework preferably all day this time so that I can have my sunday free. And I suppose I just did write to you about all of that boring stuff. Sorry. Wasn't it dull? And un-insightful into me or whatever it is you come here to learn..

So I'm just going to spew poetry at you again. Because I've already written that. And copy and paste is a marvelous tool. And because I've quite almost decided that blogging is not part of my nature. Just opening a door to the world so they can figure me out in a half hour read. Where's the fun in that? Not to mention the privacy and "decency". So I shall plague you with riddles [poems] instead : ) The answer to all of them is a thought running rampant through my head that escaped in the form of a delicate concoction of the english language. Little pieces of me I suppose. Like fingernail clippings or memories or smiles. hope you enjoy them. please feel free to leave your thoughts as always.

and don't take life too seriously, we are after all just children in our own right, wandering out into life to discover its wild flowers and beauties. You're never to old to go exploring. Or to learn something new. Or to really screw up, and realize life goes on and it's ok. Or to meet a bosom friend. Go make today special and quit reading blogs. Tell the people you love that you are forever in love with their heart and soul. Realize you are happy to be alive. I am going to go shower because my life is glorious like yours and includes indoor plumbing.


oh yeah, I promised poems. here ya go.

-----

I'm a stowaway
it's who I am.
sneaking trips
inside black and white
shots
kept safe inside
purses and books,
traveling the globe
in pixeled square
parcels.
take a flash
and take me somewhere.

----


I'm a midnight man
who lights around middles
of purple skies freckled with
silver sprink diddles.
I dash about centers of earths
revolutions
in and out shadows
and year resolutions.
I skirt on old memories
and ballet jazz muses
on notes, clefs, and stanzas
on lyrical bruises.
I chuckle at stories
spoken soft round young beds
and send fairies to prance
over lullabyed heads.
Don't try to stiffle
or sit on my fun
I've dusk haze to juggle
and dawn to out run.

----


Those cobbled lanes were laced exotically
quaint and magical.
So sweet you could almost lick the dingy streets
and taste sugar sparkles.
Genuinely alive.
That's what it was.
The basis of living, breathing;
ancient memories kissing cheeks,
fingertips interlocking nouveau.
Those painters casting masterpieces
amidst bridges and falafel carts and sun glazes;
no desperation in their eyes or brushes.
They knew life was miraculous
just as it was.
Covered in sparkling lights, foreign faces, brilliant scarves, dark pasts;
dipped in chocolate
just brewed that morning,
in the rose shadows of cathedrals
and amour de vivre.


-----


If I could just make a hammock-swung
beach dream
for you
over white sugared sand
surveying a crystalline blue sea
that really looks watercolor green
with kites and smoothies
and poetry books
I think I might.
Even if it was just for a day
for us to muse back at and say,
"do you remember that one time..?"

----


A few weeks ago
he was in a pit.
Yeah just a few months ago
they all said he'd make it.
A few steps back
he was a walking man.
And a few hours from now
he'll be dead again.

----



sucked in
smoothed out
puffed up
straightened north
glued stiff
pasted on
stickied red
pierced through
buttoned up
seared flat
weighed down
pinched tight
sprayed on
layered thick
just
be
beautiful.

----


Every morning at 3:27 that man comes
with his striped bag and velvet shoes
he comes and steals the ice crystals
from the dirt
in my rose garden.
He thinks them rare gems of unsurpassed beauty
and would keep a collection
if they'd stay with him till morning
instead of sneaking back
amongst the roses
every night.
He would keep a collection
if he remembered truthfully his dreams of adventure
in far off lands of myth and majesty,
were sleep nozzled escapades
through my thorny flowers
and frozen earth.

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.

and the speed bump begins

In a couple days I will be going off to college again, and it is truly wondrous to me how good this past year has been. God is truly amazing. And his hand in my life is undeniable. There are times when I get so excited for what comes after this life, that I wish I could leap to that next place right now, but most of the time, I am too awe struck by this life to ever want to leave it. The past year has yielded so much growth, love, knowledge, understanding, patience, and pure joy that I could not imagine being anywhere else, living any other way. I am so grateful for the opportunity that it is to live. To live in the knowledge of the truthfulness of the gospel. To be able to talk to God and let him lead my life. What a blessing it is.

My heart is full : )

Before this year began, I thought 2009 would be the speed bump to get over. The long haul to muddle through because it is the longest stretch that tommy will be gone for. But now that it's here, I can see that that is not what it is. This year is going to be amazing. There may be anxious days when I'll wish to muddle, but really, who has time to muddle through life? There are people to meet, books to read, lives to save, smiles and laughter to experience! People are falling in love this year, babies are being born, music is being created, and lives are changing and growing in beautiful new ways.

The adventure has just begun : )

I've decided what to do with my life.

Are you ready for this? ok. I am going to be a tester. I used to think it would be great to be a food tester, but then I realized that with my love of food and my lack of love for running...tub o lard would soon be used to describe my physical being. So I pretty much bagged that idea. And it only took me about 7 years to come up with this new one : ) I have decided that I will gladly be a tester of things. Kitchen aids, ironing boards, clothing, shoes, toothbrushes, beds, you name it. [Except gross stuff of course including: nose hair trimmers, air fresheners, and stupid bandaids.] But other than that and a few other things that I can't think of at the moment, I think I would very much enjoy testing things : ) I would gladly help the public by offering my services and opinions in as eloquent a form as desired.

I came to this epic decision by way of my natural habits to...use things that I love to an excessive degree. For example: I love my chapstick, and therefore have one on me at all times if possible. I love my backpack : ) and wore it everywhere, even when I was just at my apartment, just because I'd missed having one so much haha. Same goes for my glasses, my converse, my slippers, shirts, skirts, bowls, blankets, laptop, and of course, my new coat : ) In fact, my coat is the reason for all of the epiphany. See, it occurred to me to be a tester when I looked up at myself in the mirror while washing my face...in my enormous, long, poofy, -20˚ weather winter coat, that I had just inadvertantly discovered was water proof, simply by wearing it, all the time : ) I could get used to this.

If I were to marry Jack Black

Now please understand this is a purely hypothetical musing. I am merely a fan of his eyebrows and unbelievable and unique personality. However the hypothetical musing hit me today and I've decided: that if I were to marry Jack Black I would definitely invest in nice, thick curtains for all of the windows of our house. Because heaven knows he would often be running around in his chones or just in the nude. The neighbors don't need to see that. They can just watch his movies.

hearts flown south for the winter

If you were falling then I would catch you
you need a light, I'd find a match
cause I love the way you say "good morning"
and you take me the way I am

if you are chilly here take my sweater
your head is aching I'll make it better
cause I love the way you call me baby
and you take me the way I am

I'd buy you rogain when you start losing all your hair
sew on patches to all you tear
cause I love you more than I could ever promise
and you take me the way I am
You take me the way I am
you take me the way I am

[Ingrid Michaelson]


I'm not certain of why I am creating this blog. Most likely it is because I love to write, and when presented with a fresh piece of paper and a pen, am instantly filled with a desire to decorate it with hopefully well placed words and punctuation. Jameson Ranck created a blog once, sometime before now, and I've just read it last night. He has unknowingly presented me with a new piece of paper and pen, and the desire to write on it, little or much, important or fluff-filled, has brought me here. So if any of you souls out there have any complaints about my piece of blog existing, talk to Jamo. He is the perpetrating muse.