frosty frosty sounds

1.) "maps" - the yeah yeah yeahs
2.) "i can't take it" - tegan and sara
3.) "the catch" - nyles lannen
4.) "re: stacks" - bon iver
5.) "postcards from italy" - beirut
6.) "california one youth and beauty" - the decemberists
7.) "a lack of color" - death cab for cutie
8.) "enjoy your worries, you may never have them again" - the books
9.) "subsong" - jel
10.) "tatou" - brand new
11.) "romeo" - juliette lewis and the licks
12.) "i am always the one who calls" - pedro the lion
13.) "flume" - bon iver
14.) "gone away from me" - ray lamontagne
15.) "mare mortis" - the appleseed cast
16.) "linger" - the cranberries
17.) "white shadows" - coldplay
18.) "manhattan" - kings of leon

and she and she is out at sea

she's out at sea again...
since she's left i've ended every day realizing i've slipped something on or into my pocket that was hers or has been hers... you know how best friends do these things. there's borrowed things and traded things and things that are pocketed or swept up or drunkenly exchanged. more absentmindedly than intentionally, i've been carrying something of hers around with me. it's silly. it's sweet. it's something.

(it happens sometimes when my sister leaves, too.)

this is one of my favorite shirts i've swapped with her, and everyone always comments on the hole in the back. i've no idea how it got there but i've no intention of sewing it up... i love it the way it is (not unlike how i love her unconditionally). i usually hear "well, you should sew it up, otherwise it doesn't look nice."
nice for whom? it looks damn near perfect to me in its imperfect state: perfectly worn in, nice color, good neckline, not too tight, much nicer than a stiff, starched, ballet pink, skin-tight scoop-necked something or other.
i don't know.
i guess i just think a hole in a shirt is the least of my worries at this point.
besides.
i love the shirt the way it came to me: from my best friend.

the end of the year is approaching.
more later i suppose...
<3

works in progress

there are seven on the wall
all works in progress.
all terrible as far as i'm concerned...
but they're where my mind's been:

over and over again

he used to play this one cd some girl gave him.

he used to play it on long car rides, usually home, sometimes to twin peaks, but always on long car rides. there was one song he played over and over and over again on repeat, and i always thought it was one of the saddest songs i'd ever heard... one of those ones that made your heart quiver a little. i think i asked once who it was by, but he never knew.

i came across it today on my computer though.

i haven't been writing, just painting and playing the guitar a whole damn lot.

i've had the biggest writer's block.

but i came across the song on my computer, i'd lifted it off a friend's computer two years ago when we were all crashing in my apartment when i used to live in the big, emerald city. i'd fallen in love with the way the music sounded like it was raining, like it's always raining in seattle.

i miss the seattle days more.

the irony is in the title of the song: "enjoy your worries, you may never have them again" by the books off their album "thought for food".

enjoy:

sitting on the side waiting for a sign

i can't write anything.

"don't forget me"

"try not to forget me, okay," he said. how could i? i remember most of my classmates names from third and fourth grade, and could probably remember half of them from kindergarden if i gave it a good shot. besides, he'd worked pretty hard to argue against the professor the entire quarter while i'd basically done the opposite and tried to understand exactly where the professor was coming from. we were polar opposites, that much had been made clear over the quarter... then again...

"it sucks i'm leaving the day we finally meet, doesn't it?"

well. we'd actually met three months prior, but we'd only just had six hours worth of conversation to make up for lost time. i'd given up looking for anything, and for some reason as soon as i'd let go, all the worthwhile things were falling into my visual realm of.... whatever you want to call it. of course. as soon as i'd thought i had no more heart to give, i realized it had only been kept armored inside a steel dinosaur trap...

that would probably not open for a long time.

or a long while.

------------------------------------

------------------------------------

i watched the teens last night.

the ones i can't help but return to every weekend.

if my heart was left anywhere, it was somewhere between the south narthex and the cafeteria. i watched them all at once: the flirting, the giggling, the chasing, the awkward conversations, the hand-holding, the hugging... all that fun stuff. i remembered when a high-school break up was the absolute most devastating thing in the entire world. i remembered when everything was absolute. that's what i like about going back to volunteer with them: they remind me that things don't have to be so grey and wishy-washy. things can be defined if i let them be what they are.

more later i guess.

take me there

it was a long night of everything at once.

the greatest christmas party we'd ever had kept happening, and then just as suddenly (though not soon at all, for it had had a good eight hour run), everything began to slow down but it never really stopped.

he woke up a few hours later in a panic, and i wasn't really sure if i'd ever really fallen asleep to begin with. she'd just fallen asleep, and was far enough away from me that i wasn't sure what to do.

you know.... how you can always think a little clearer when your best friend's closer to you.

he told me he'd had a nightmare of the world ending and buildings burning, and all the three months of talking about philosophy had me wondering if i had anything to do with it. how hypersensitive are we, anyway? where'd our senses go? was i just over-thinking everything? i was too tired to continue wondering if anything meant anything at all, and i still wasn't sure if i had fallen asleep anyway, so i did what any good friend would do and i patted his forehead and told him it was going to be okay.

and then i wished she was awake, too, so that maybe she could pat my forehead and tell me everything was going to be okay as well. but she was asleep, and the night always brings more fears and doubts than it ought to.

and then i thought of all the places i wanted to go.

not just the following day, not even in a few weeks.

all of a sudden i wanted to stand up and run and go to all the places i'd captured in my heart, but then i wondered if i even had one at all, or maybe if i'd given it away one too many times and was left with absolutely nothing.

do i have to build myself a new heart?

i was thinking too much.

maybe i still am.

all i knew was that i wanted to run somewhere right the hell then. i sat up and saw the moonlight peeking through the blinds: all the city was asleep.

maybe the city won't take me back, but everywhere else will welcome me:

woke up and drove

i woke up and started driving this morning... not really sure where i was going, but i left with the absolute certainty that i would find something different and somewhere new to study if i drove somewhere else... somewhere not where i usually land. not seattle. not federal way. not.... anywhere specific. i played cortez the killer, called my other half, and then took the first exit and stopped at the first coffee shop i found. i decided that wherever i landed would be the start of something else. new? i don't know. everything is new now.

life probably isn't made up of signs as much as it is lovely coincidences, but i figure... if i can just put the pieces together myself and make my own signs and meanings, it'll work out itself.
so i named this cafe my new hangout.
here's to writing papers.
love.

oh my thoughts? they come out sideways.

oh sunday

"there's a secret magic past world that you only notice when you're looking back at it"

it snowed, it rained, and soon... and then...

....and then there was music.

the sun is out.

1) "naomi" - neutral milk hotel

2) "a fond farewell" - elliott smith

3) "naked as we came" - iron and wine

4) "hallelujah" - jeff buckley

5) "pamphleteer" - the weakerthans

6) "etienne d'aout" - malajube

7) "i can't take this" - tegan and sara

8) "autumn sweater" - yo la tengo

9) "hoppipolla" - sigur ros

10) "empty" - ray lamontagne

11) "maple leaves" - jens lekman

12) "the orchids" - califone

13) "half dead" - the mountain goats

14) "postcards from italy" - beirut

15) "two zero two" - northstar

16) "barfly" - ray lamontagne

17) "time of no reply" - nick drake

18) "conversations" - the posies

19) "the summer ends" - american football

20) "rebbelions (lies)" - the arcade fire

21) "skinny boy" - amy milian

as a side note:

it took me until i hit 'publish' the second time to realize today is the first day of december. i've lost track of everything, i guess.

the last 14 hours have been a waste of time

because of all this crap that post secrets has so wonderfully put into postcard-form:

anyway. i've been working on getting ahold of this loan for about a month now, and i'm about an hour away from having all the right things come together so i can get ahold of it.

and then get away.

none of this news is incredibly important.

i've lost track of time. i've lost track of everything. i spent the entire morning in tears for some bullshit i can't seem to wrap my mind around. how long does someone tell lies for to make themselves feel better about themselves? about what they don't want but think they need? does it only last until they realize they've deceived everyone else as well? i've never gone away from trusting my gut so much.

my heart aches.

but according to pinker, i don't have one at all.

and nietzche?

i just need to use this bs waste of time to be stronger.

my brain is tired.

my heart aches.

and i wonder.

see...

...why is it that if guys do this, it's super sweet and romantic

but if it was the other way around, ladies automatically get the label "crazy bitch"?

i mean what the hell?

i mean, i'd never do this, but why did anyone ever think it was sweet in the first place? why can't we all just live in 80's movies? where's my breakfast club?

snowed in

i'm only moving as far as i can bum rides
or as far as my camera will take me.

1) "coffee shop soundtrack" - all time low
2) "the feel good drag" - amberlin
3) "my little japanese cigarette case" - spoon
4) "kevin is gay" - giant drag
5) "champagne supernova" - oasis
6) "two beds and a coffee machine" - savage garden
7) "coffee and cigarettes" - augustana
8) "coffee & tv" - blur
9) "soco amaretto lime" - brand new
10) "cigarette" - ben fold's five
11) "coffee shop" - red hot chili peppers
12) "coffee break" - forever the sickest kids
13) "amitriptyline" - john vanderslice
14) "cigarettes and alcohol" - oasis
15) "nights of the living dead" - tilly and the wall
16) "coffee" - copeland
17) "smelling cigarettes" - the fiery furnaces
18) "lemurs, man, lemurs" - minus the bear
19) "motorcycle drive by" - third eye blind
20) "cigarettes and chocolate milk" - rufus wainright
21) "aneurysm" - weezer (nirvana cover)

i'm almost positive i posted this playlist on my last blog, but it's one of my favorite rounds of music to hit when i'm stuck somewhere for a while longer than i'd like. i haven't listened to it in long while, and i'd almost forgot how much i liked listening to all these songs in this particular order.

bolded, of course, are the ones i love the most.

life aint always what you think it oughtta be...

speak easy

...and there was that godawful silence. some people fear it i guess: that silence over the telephone, the awkwardness of not being able to see the other person's face, reaction, or eyes. i don't really mind it, though, since i've grown accustomed to listening for the slightest change in tone. sometimes i think i can hear people's expressions better than i can read them on their faces.
it's hard to explain.
but there it was, that silence that everyone hates.
i just kind of welcome it.
it doesn't really mean one thing or another.
i was sitting on my bed... actually i was lying on my stomach and my blinds were half open so i could see the outside from where i was. he had asked how everything was, and since i don't know him that well i gave the obligatory "everything's fine, going great, just doing homework" response. it was true enough, i was doing homework, and my grades are better than they've been since march 2009. everything on paper is fine.
and that's when the pause happened.
i figured i'd bored him since he's horribly intellectual, but the pause lasted longer than what would say that.
he was thinking.
shit.
i'm the only person that's allowed to think things over.
shit.shit.shit. he was thinking. about me. foreign thoughts...
why was he thinking? the pause felt like eternity. he was about to call me out. i could smell it.
i am the master of "everything's fine." i could write a book on everything being fine.
"you know," he said, "you can tell me what's really on your mind."

there it was.

actually, i couldn't, because that's what's managed to get me in trouble my entire life. this last year, actually: not being able to tell the right kind of things. the acceptable things. maybe it's been longer than a year... maybe two...three....or an eternity of not being able to call the right shots, since this problem manifests itself in all sorts of different ways. my days of pleasing for the sake of pleasing have run short. thus spoke zarathustra.
then again, maybe i could give up my stubbornness.

"everything's fine. just doing homework."

pause.
this must be why people avoid phone conversations like the plague.
i don't know. listening isn't terrible: you can pick up on the person on the other end. you can pick up on what they're thinking with their tones and the way they breath... all without them seeing the looks you make when you wrinkle your face closer to the receiver.

"you really can tell me what's going on."
i'd barely known him two weeks, although technically i'd been hearing stories about him since i was fifteen. he was actually a legend as far as i could tell.

"really." i stated. it was not a question. that sharp tone of sarcasm always slides in when i don't believe what someone's saying.

"yeah, really, i'd like to know what's going on with you."

it's such a foreign feeling....
maybe there are good people out there.

god willin and the creek don't rise

lovely.

sunday morning at the mosque

or, better titled, the select few times i will write about my faith online (because words do no justice for what i pursue).
i wrote this yesterday, but as far as blogging goes, it belongs here more than it does anywhere else i guess.


I have this class I'm taking for one of my theology courses appropriately titled "Spiritual Traditions: East and West". Like almost all my other theology courses, I love it. when it comes to searching for G-d, I can't get enough. I'm completely consumed by all faith traditions, and I was thrilled when I found out we get to do a "site visit" as part of our curriculum. We have the opportunity to visit a number of different worship services, and since the opportunity is here, I'm going to as many as I can. Why not?
So tomorrow morning I'm planning on attending a Muslim worship service. I'm not really sure what to expect, but I know two things: 1) I'm going to have to cover my head, and 2) I'm going to have to sit in an entirely different section, not only because I'm female, but because I'll be a visitor. Cool. I started looking into why men and women are set to worship in different sections, and why this is still an extremely common practice, and the main reason is so one group won't distract the other.
Huh.
At first I didn't really get it, I mean, it's a group of people not unlike my own community, and we're all going to worship the same G-d, so why is anyone worried about distraction in the awesomeness of worship (and by "awesome" I don't mean like... the cheesy awesome you hear thrown around when you watch "Saved" with Mandy Moore, but awesome like.... the original definition of the word: awe-inspiring, you know?)? I mean, when I go to my own worship services, men and women and children and all of everyone sit together: no big deal. We still get caught up in the mass (if we know what's going on), it's still beautiful, and to be honest I'm always inspired in faith by my friend RJ whom I usually end up sitting next to. I wouldn't have the same inspiration if I sat by myself, not that I would have a bad experience by any means, it's just... some people inspire me in different ways. See? Boys and girls can sit together and still get it. Everything's ok.

But then I stared thinking about it more. I remember going through that long lecture-y process of getting confirmed. It was a sincere, conscious decision on my part, and also the beginning of what sparked my desire to study theology. I don't actually remember much of the confirmation process, save for the night we did adoration.
Now.
Unless you're Catholic, you probably don't understand the weight adoration holds, but let me tell you, it is the more.... sincere and amazing thing I have the opportunity to participate in.
Anyway, I remember doing adoration during the confirmation retreat, and I remember specifically kneeling next to this guy I used to go to grade school with. The session was long, and it was beautiful, but I was also a sixteen year old girl, and after about forty minutes of this process, I remember having the epiphany that this guy was totally hot.
I know. Totally the wrong thing to be thinking about.
And then he elbowed me. And basically it was all downhill from there.
Now.
I was an adult.
Technically.
In terms of faith.
But I was still a sixteen year old girl (keyword being "was").

And now I'm understanding why men and women worship in different sections. It's nothing oppressing or discriminatory or anything of that nature. It's just a recognition that people are people, and if you're going to worship, then go for that and not to bump elbows with the people sitting next to you. People are people, and distractions happen, so with the encouragement to sit separately, you have time to reflect internally.

I think it's lovely.

I'm absolutely excited for tomorrow morning, it's going to be entirely different from anything I've experienced thus far.


See, this is why I love studying theology: so much of your own faith begins to unfold upon the reflection of other traditions, whether they're great revelations or small ones.
Anyway, that's all for now.

words

i fall in love with places so easily.
i loved yakima, how stupid is that? i'm not sure if it was just all the places we went to, or the company that made it worthwhile, but i can't help but feel so....

much like i'm taking out the trash when i think of it.

i feel like i imagined the whole thing.


and all the people.
all gone.





i have never wanted to leave my life so badly,
to just pick up and leave and startsomethingnew.

something else.
something not this life i lead.


i feel like i'm living in 1984--- the book, did you ever have to read that in high school? with big brother always watching? i haven't been home the last three weeks. i've stopped in for food, and the occasional sleep if at all. nothing seems worth sleeping through anymore, since the last year feels like something i wasted. trying to find something worthwhile i guess. worried about all the wrong things.
i feel like i'm living in 1984, because i do everything for something else, and when i slip just out of line, i'm called out.
and it's a load of bullshit.


i looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in what feels like weeks
--my sister has this big, tall mirror in her old room, good for seeing all of yourself as opposed to the mirror i have in my room that only shows the top quarter of myself (it would show the top half of me if only i didn't have stacks and stacks of books and cds piled on my dresser)--
i cut my hair out of my face a little
and i've dropped a significant amount of weight in the last few weeks
i've lost my appetite,
but for books... never.
nietzche, descartes, and siddhartha have all become the most important authors of this mess.


what the hell am i doing with my life.
never going back to yakima, that's for sure...
because there's something deeply disturbing about falling in love with places:
they never love you back.

maybe i've had it all wrong this whole time.
what can love back?
what if you're never sure you loved in the first place?
i love everything
and nothing
all at once i guess.
it's a hard feeling to explain.