Friday, January 18, 2008
late! not latte.
6:56 am and I'm sitting on my bed staring at the mirror, eating granola and waiting. Six minutes have passed since my waiting began, and in that time I've discovered that my physics teacher is impressively student-focused, that Juliette is a minor movie making sensation, and that granola is delicious. I will wait more often.
Friday, January 11, 2008
meh
Feeling unwelcome, unwanted, useless and burdensome. There is no space for me here. They can't stand seeing any evidence that I'm around. The one who would be happy to have me home is worlds away, out of reach, out of sight, lost to a better life. They wish I was gone, I wish I was gone. Seems easy then, off I go.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
earl of my heart
Hanging about the place drinking oh-so-good tea, eating banana nut bread, and watching crazy medical issue specials on the BBC. I'm feeling content.
This break has been an interesting one. A whole flurry of activity at the beginning, immediately followed by some intense deadness. A little too much television, my brain began to rot. Canned that and started on some good old fashioned hard work, raking leaves, knocking down walls, shredding paper even. Now I feel like I'm jumping back into school early, trying to read an entire textbook in two weeks. Enjoying the quiet life in Berkeley. And back home for a while more now, about to cook dinner for the parents with a trusty old friend. After today, who knows? The Office Christmas Special is surely in the near future! And as a final exclamation point on the break, a potentially hectic, potentially great trip to Big Bear.
We'll see we'll see we'll see. I'm writing listlessly but not feeling listless. Off to Trader Joe's to buy ingredients for great pizza!
This break has been an interesting one. A whole flurry of activity at the beginning, immediately followed by some intense deadness. A little too much television, my brain began to rot. Canned that and started on some good old fashioned hard work, raking leaves, knocking down walls, shredding paper even. Now I feel like I'm jumping back into school early, trying to read an entire textbook in two weeks. Enjoying the quiet life in Berkeley. And back home for a while more now, about to cook dinner for the parents with a trusty old friend. After today, who knows? The Office Christmas Special is surely in the near future! And as a final exclamation point on the break, a potentially hectic, potentially great trip to Big Bear.
We'll see we'll see we'll see. I'm writing listlessly but not feeling listless. Off to Trader Joe's to buy ingredients for great pizza!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
denver omlettes and one tiny phone call and american graffiti
breakfast: amazing!
worry: subdued!
annoyance: enflamed!
ron howard: attractive!
and my orange scarf pulls all the little bits together.
worry: subdued!
annoyance: enflamed!
ron howard: attractive!
and my orange scarf pulls all the little bits together.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Blog is the new Black
Wishing I had seen Charlie Wilson's War last night, after reading Juliette's post.
Such a hard day of real live manual labor! I knew I needed to work to stay afloat this semester, and my dear old mom and dad were nice enough to let me work for them since finding a job for two weeks seems unlikely. So I spent the day sweeping leaves, cleaning out gutters, and power washing the deck. Throughout the day it became increasingly apparent to me just how much effort it takes to have and maintain material posessions. Will I ever be able to own a house in this area, with the cleaning, repairing, adding, demolishing, and all the other ings that come along with it? And what if me and Mr. Copley both have to work? Is this how we'll spend our weekends? Cleaning out rain gutters? Worrying about the state of the deck? Will we have kids for the sole purpose of making them do our yardwork?
Ever since I can remember, the idea of living in a simple house in a simple town, with a simple, simple, simple way of life, has appealed to me. I don't want things. I want a small place to rest my head, hopefully with my loved ones under the same roof, and I want to know my neighbors and have friends over for dinner. I want to buy my groceries from a small, local market, and I want my clothes to be warm and handmade. I want the people around me to be happy and satisfied with their simple lives, and most of all I just want to be content. I want to plan things less rigidly so there can be room for adventures along the way. I want board games every night. I want to learn how to make cheese and how to paint. I want to get up with the sun.
Whenever I list off these things I tend to get a little melancholy about them, because all I can see is how far away my current life is from the one I so badly want. But I'm deciding to change that now. So much has happened, so much has changed, and there is so much more hard work between me and my dreams than there was before. But glimmers of the dream shine through. I've got the Cheeseboard. I've got Ross and Nicki. I've got Joe, whose day is made when he finds Trivial Pursuit at the thrift store for a dollar. I've got and endless amount of good books waiting to be read, most of which I haven't even heard of yet, but are nonetheless lying in wait, ready to refine the way I think and reason. I've got Tatyana, with her grounded appreciation of life's real gifts, and Melissa, the last link to history for me. I've got a tangled web of English family, scores of stories waiting to be told and heard.
And I've got a simple house in a simple community in a simple country with my name on it. I don't know where it is, or how I'll get there, or when. But I've got it. And I am finally, finally, finally starting to get excited about the journey.
Such a hard day of real live manual labor! I knew I needed to work to stay afloat this semester, and my dear old mom and dad were nice enough to let me work for them since finding a job for two weeks seems unlikely. So I spent the day sweeping leaves, cleaning out gutters, and power washing the deck. Throughout the day it became increasingly apparent to me just how much effort it takes to have and maintain material posessions. Will I ever be able to own a house in this area, with the cleaning, repairing, adding, demolishing, and all the other ings that come along with it? And what if me and Mr. Copley both have to work? Is this how we'll spend our weekends? Cleaning out rain gutters? Worrying about the state of the deck? Will we have kids for the sole purpose of making them do our yardwork?
Ever since I can remember, the idea of living in a simple house in a simple town, with a simple, simple, simple way of life, has appealed to me. I don't want things. I want a small place to rest my head, hopefully with my loved ones under the same roof, and I want to know my neighbors and have friends over for dinner. I want to buy my groceries from a small, local market, and I want my clothes to be warm and handmade. I want the people around me to be happy and satisfied with their simple lives, and most of all I just want to be content. I want to plan things less rigidly so there can be room for adventures along the way. I want board games every night. I want to learn how to make cheese and how to paint. I want to get up with the sun.
Whenever I list off these things I tend to get a little melancholy about them, because all I can see is how far away my current life is from the one I so badly want. But I'm deciding to change that now. So much has happened, so much has changed, and there is so much more hard work between me and my dreams than there was before. But glimmers of the dream shine through. I've got the Cheeseboard. I've got Ross and Nicki. I've got Joe, whose day is made when he finds Trivial Pursuit at the thrift store for a dollar. I've got and endless amount of good books waiting to be read, most of which I haven't even heard of yet, but are nonetheless lying in wait, ready to refine the way I think and reason. I've got Tatyana, with her grounded appreciation of life's real gifts, and Melissa, the last link to history for me. I've got a tangled web of English family, scores of stories waiting to be told and heard.
And I've got a simple house in a simple community in a simple country with my name on it. I don't know where it is, or how I'll get there, or when. But I've got it. And I am finally, finally, finally starting to get excited about the journey.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
