calming down...

Brown Penny

William Butler Yeats

I whispered, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.


The purpose of poetry is make you feel something. again.

empowering the powerless.

"A man gains no possession better than a good woman, nothing more horrible that a bad one."
-unknown

I hate how having feelings for someone gives them an unknown power over you. For instance I'm steamed right now at this boy for liking this blond bimbo... but she's skinny and cute and that's all that matters right? Why do we entrust such a deep part of ourselves with those most likely to hurt and punish us for it? I know it's all part of some plan, finding someone to love so deeply that we, ourselves, can emulate with another the love that our savior has for us... I guess I just answered my own question. I feel a small portion of the pain and scorn our Heavenly Father and His Son feel when we turn from him, knowingly or not; and in our own understanding we come closer to Them. That sucks. One both sides I mean. I am so grateful for my capacity to feel happiness that I guess I forget that the same stroke of good fortune bears bitterness and sorrow within its blow...

... but it's never better to feel nothing.


Quote of the Moment:

"I'm so good, I put clean thoughts in your head."
(My Herbal Essence Shampoo Bottle)

the dynamics of family.

Love is not love which alters where it alteration finds.
William Shakespeare

My family dynamics are follows:
Someone initiates funny comment.
All laugh at funny comment.
Carry on polite, intermittent conversation for twenty minutes.
Repeat.

As wonderful as my family is, they are in desperate need some excitement in their lives. So "there's no place like home for the holidays," and I have immersed myself in baking cookies, shopping for presents and fighting with my brother over the car. I have missed being home.

Speaking of family dynamics, the Chatterfamily still cracks me up. Apparently my friendship with Crackerton is contingent upon the payment of one 'secret Christmas jammies.' What we failed to tell her was that there was $100 sewed into the seams. Why else would Chattermom have sent the jammies wrapped in a secure box? Chatterben is democratic with insults, considering each case with equality and poignantly scathing everyone equally to his own delectation. It all makes me laugh.

Quote of the moment:

"Awww.... You made me ink"
(while considering Pirates of the Caribbean's Davey Jones at 7)

daddy's girl.

"The devil was the first democrat."
-Lord Byron

I love my father. He brings into my days hilarity of which bring me unestimable pleasure. This is only one example of his influence in who I am today.

"Linda Burnett, 23, a resident of San Diego, was visiting her in-laws and while there went to a nearby supermarket to pick up some groceries. Several people noticed her sitting in her car with the windows rolled up and with her eyes closed, with both hands behind the back of her head. One customer who had been at the store for a while became concerned and walked over to the car. He noticed that Linda's eyes were now open, and she looked very strange. He asked her if she was okay, and Linda replied that she'd been shot in the back of the head, and had been holding her brains in for over an hour. The man called the paramedics, who broke into the car because the doors were locked and Linda refused to remove her hands from her head. When they finally got in, they found that Linda had a wad of bread dough on the back of her head. A Pillsbury biscuit canister had exploded from the heat, making a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot, and the wad of dough hit her in the back of her head. When she reached back to find out what it was, she felt the dough and thought it was her brains. She initially passed out, but quickly recovered and tried to hold her brains in for over an hour until someone noticed and came to her aid. Linda is a blonde and a Democrat, but I'm certain that's irrelevant."

Quote of the day:

"I don't feel like being a slut tonight. Maybe some other time"
"I certainly hope so!"

midnight madness.

"Do not wait; the time will never be "just right." Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along."
-George Herbert

There is nothing like lying in bed and listening to the world pass by. The sounds are more poinient in California-with everyone rushing about-and the echo of horns and screeching tires reaches to my open bedroom window. Why are we still here, still breathing... living? I fear that the extended lifespan of the human race has been caused by our lack of learning in 80 years what our predecessors learned in 50. Which makes me wonder if I'm learning anything worthwhile at all. The long and the short of it is that I am resolving to learn better. I'm not saying I'm going to go out and find something new, I've already found it; but now I much more thoroughly and intensly learn that which I profess to know... that which I love dearly.

Quote of the Moment:

"That is not why we're friends..." Yeah, but we are anyways!

"I take as metaphysical poetry that in which was is ordinarily apprehensible only by thought is brought within the grasp of feeling, or that which was is ordinarily only felt is transformed into thought without ceasing to be feeling."
-T. S. Eliot

I wish I were a metaphysical poet. I could spend my time contemplating nothing and call it a hard days work, but I'm too distractable. Even now, in professing this to you, I have been distracted by apple pie, roommates, and Hearts. Admittedly, if I could get back time spent in the pursuit of any mundane activity, I would take back my time spent playing computer/video games. It doesn't amount to much, but enough to bring shame to my family. May my ancestors forgive me.

Side note: In geology class I overheard the teacher mentioning Pater Noster and I immediately stopped correcting my paper for another class, wondering "what in tarnation my teacher was playing at, teaching the Our Father." Turns out that Patternoster is a sequence of lakes that is formed when glaciers receed. Pater Noster, on the other hand, is Latin for Our Father. I chuckled, coughed, and went back to my George Herbert paper.

All things aside this is the craziest finals week I've encountered, but I don't really mind. I have good friends to eat with me, laugh at me, and pretend for five minutes that the 20 page paper due the next day is as a snowflake, that when accumulated, builds into a mass of monsterous proportions that one must run from. I love my friends

Quotes of the Day:

"And we all know Byron is burning with all the fire and damnation... He's probably still arguing with God about it."

"So I saw a musinex comercial today and I thought of you."

"I wish for those ghetto booties..."

missing salt.

There is only garlic salt in my kitchen, so what happenes when I am in need of a good salting and garlic's potent aroma is inexplicably unsuited for the task? I could do without, savoring the flavor of my potatoes, knowing they lack their former luster. I could unsuccesfully attempt the enjoyment of Mrs. Dash, but I think that certainly an age restriction must be enforced upon food products that instill such imagry as large gray-haired women running. Other seasonings just pale in comparison to the grainy saltiness that once permiated my mouth.

In other news: I finished my magazine. I will probably be carrying a copy around with me once I print off another one so ask me about it. It's pride, I know, but I worked hard, and the 'A' I will be recieving from the project is only a bonus to knowing that I can pull off a project of this magnitude. The greater reward was my teacher telling us that we set the curve. Ah the mirthful moments of self-indulgence that are abruptly countered with the humiliation of failing a Geology test. I deserved that.