Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Newest Obsession Number Three
Skiing.
i feel the need to say nothing more, to withhold the words that might blot the pristine connotation of this word that conjures images of white flakes floating from the sky, blowing past your face and some getting stuck in your eye lashes and your hair as you fly down a mountain, the white path ahead inviting you further- faster. the layer of fresh "powder" through which your skis cut with a mighty attempt at some kind of delicate precision, a layer that sometimes blows apart for your arrival invitingly, then throws itself across the back of your left ski- that damn weaker knee, and holds it down while your body and your other ski continue to soar down the mountain, pushed along by that fresh "powder" once appearing so gentle and motherly, until suddenly you have fallen headlong down the powder, not as soft as you had once assumed, which devours a second ski as you cartwheel unintentionally down the mountain, passing a sign with some writing and a curious black shape, maybe a square, but you cant really tell because you are still doing cartwheels. unintentionally. finally you roll to a stop; you stand up but the boots that are bigger than your head and weigh more than your car wont budge in the snow drift which is slowly enveloping your body inch by inch until only the tip of your nose can be seen, a little white flag you wave at the powder. if the snow were not compacted around your mouth, you would probably say "you win snow but suddenly a little man in a red hat attaches a tiny cord to your white flag and his little snow machine begins to buzz furiously you find you are out of the snow drift faster than you lost that first ski. relief; you did not utter the words of defeat. and you shake your fist at the cold... beautiful snow like an ocean of white, each flake a different shape and design you despise because of its inherent superiority and say, "ill get you this time you stupid Mary Jane Slope!" As you walk up the mountain sideways to collect your forlorn little skis. a baby wearing only his diapers zooms past you. his skiis are twice as tall are you are. yours barely reach his chin. you witness as he reaches the same menacing snow drift that so recently tried to eat you. it parts like the red sea....
or maybe not. i had one hell of a great week in winterpark!!
skiing is my new favorite thing to do.
i feel the need to say nothing more, to withhold the words that might blot the pristine connotation of this word that conjures images of white flakes floating from the sky, blowing past your face and some getting stuck in your eye lashes and your hair as you fly down a mountain, the white path ahead inviting you further- faster. the layer of fresh "powder" through which your skis cut with a mighty attempt at some kind of delicate precision, a layer that sometimes blows apart for your arrival invitingly, then throws itself across the back of your left ski- that damn weaker knee, and holds it down while your body and your other ski continue to soar down the mountain, pushed along by that fresh "powder" once appearing so gentle and motherly, until suddenly you have fallen headlong down the powder, not as soft as you had once assumed, which devours a second ski as you cartwheel unintentionally down the mountain, passing a sign with some writing and a curious black shape, maybe a square, but you cant really tell because you are still doing cartwheels. unintentionally. finally you roll to a stop; you stand up but the boots that are bigger than your head and weigh more than your car wont budge in the snow drift which is slowly enveloping your body inch by inch until only the tip of your nose can be seen, a little white flag you wave at the powder. if the snow were not compacted around your mouth, you would probably say "you win snow but suddenly a little man in a red hat attaches a tiny cord to your white flag and his little snow machine begins to buzz furiously you find you are out of the snow drift faster than you lost that first ski. relief; you did not utter the words of defeat. and you shake your fist at the cold... beautiful snow like an ocean of white, each flake a different shape and design you despise because of its inherent superiority and say, "ill get you this time you stupid Mary Jane Slope!" As you walk up the mountain sideways to collect your forlorn little skis. a baby wearing only his diapers zooms past you. his skiis are twice as tall are you are. yours barely reach his chin. you witness as he reaches the same menacing snow drift that so recently tried to eat you. it parts like the red sea....
or maybe not. i had one hell of a great week in winterpark!!
skiing is my new favorite thing to do.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
ever feeling a little to white for your skin? well this blog quite humorously will validate all that is you. dont have a tv? its okay! youre white- we're supposed to love that stuff. still sporting lame old bangs? its okay! we're supposed to dig that. finding yoursefl unable to leave the house without scarves or new balance! crisis averted- it is a age old inclination residing deep in your soul.
the "full list of stuff white people like" is a personal favorite of mine.
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/full-list-of-stuff-white-people-like/
and reason number 116 certainly tops my charts:
(http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/11/18/116-black-music-that-black-people-dont-listen-to-anymore/)
"All music genres go through a very similar life cycle: birth, growth, mainstream acceptance, decline, and finally obscurity. With black music, however, the final stage is never reached because white people are work tirelessly to keep it alive"....specifically jazz.
"Every few a months," stuffwhitepeoplelike says, " a white person will put on some Jazz and pour themselves a glass of wine or scotch and tell themselves how nice it is. Then they will get bored and watch television or write emails to other white people about how nice it was to listen to Jazz at home. 'Last night, I poured myself a glass of Shiraz and put Charlie Parker on the Bose. It was so relaxing, I wish I had a fireplace.'"
this is why. i. love. stuff white people like dot com
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
After working through my deep depression about being a senior in college (i thought id be so much more enlightened by now) and an official twenty something (21 is the new 16), i finally decided to carpe diem a little more yada yada yada (youve never heard that before) and aim for a 91 on a test not a 102 (both get you that 4.0 baby) tempered with a more active life existing outside the pages of a book (its not the quality of experience its the quantity). didnt emerson say something about that in an american scholar? now would be an appropriate time for a quote but... i made a 91 on that test.
so here is a list of things i have been doing/found interest in while im not studying:
Twilight- The Book, The Movie, The Concept....
I must have an addictive personality because I am constantly finding new- strange- obsessions. This currently tops my list. Guys, I am an English Major, I take a lot of Film classes, I am a theatre major--- This movie Sucks. The screenplay- atrocious. Then again it comes straight from the book----the most poorly written (slash) structured (slash) portioned book i have ever read (get to the point stephanie meyers- we get it. shes clumsy). But honestly, after a Thoreau overdose and a little too much WB Yeats (the terrible beauty) I could not put it down (literally, i even read it during finals week, hell i read that book in the shower). Needing a little validation for my secretive and embarassing literary interests, I went to my playwriting teacher a man with the countenance and wisdom of professor dumbledore, in fact if he ever grew a three foot beard i would simply cheer. or perhaps like bella swan, just faint. (edward kisses bella: and meyers actually wrote this: "'You....made.....me.....faint.....'" gross me out) Yet i asked him
me: Professor Dumbl---I mean Jones, I need to entrust you with my deepest darkest secret that you in your great playwriting and theatrical wisdom might disect my escapist tendancies for bs pulp fiction when I could be reading FAUST!
Dumbledore- Yesssss
Me- WHY DO I LIKE TWILIGHT. IT SUCKS!
(And though it would be more interesting if he said something like, "well why do you belieeeeeve you like Twilight my young padawon" He said this which i will share with all the world:)
Dumble- becuase it is credible. because it is interesting.
Me- But it sucks! I am embarrassed! I may be mentally ill
Dumble- ahh Yes (in infinite wisdom) but what lesson does this reveal to you my little playwriting apprentice (whose play happens to be worse that stephanie meyers dreams but i would never tell you that)
Me- that form can never kill content!
Dumble- (infinately wise) Indeed.
Me- But i even read it in the shower! (no really)
Dum- just dont say that outloud
read it, you will love it , and when you feel stupid, just remember, dumbledore thinks youre okayu
My next odd obsession tomorrow
so here is a list of things i have been doing/found interest in while im not studying:
Twilight- The Book, The Movie, The Concept....
I must have an addictive personality because I am constantly finding new- strange- obsessions. This currently tops my list. Guys, I am an English Major, I take a lot of Film classes, I am a theatre major--- This movie Sucks. The screenplay- atrocious. Then again it comes straight from the book----the most poorly written (slash) structured (slash) portioned book i have ever read (get to the point stephanie meyers- we get it. shes clumsy). But honestly, after a Thoreau overdose and a little too much WB Yeats (the terrible beauty) I could not put it down (literally, i even read it during finals week, hell i read that book in the shower). Needing a little validation for my secretive and embarassing literary interests, I went to my playwriting teacher a man with the countenance and wisdom of professor dumbledore, in fact if he ever grew a three foot beard i would simply cheer. or perhaps like bella swan, just faint. (edward kisses bella: and meyers actually wrote this: "'You....made.....me.....faint.....'" gross me out) Yet i asked him
me: Professor Dumbl---I mean Jones, I need to entrust you with my deepest darkest secret that you in your great playwriting and theatrical wisdom might disect my escapist tendancies for bs pulp fiction when I could be reading FAUST!
Dumbledore- Yesssss
Me- WHY DO I LIKE TWILIGHT. IT SUCKS!
(And though it would be more interesting if he said something like, "well why do you belieeeeeve you like Twilight my young padawon" He said this which i will share with all the world:)
Dumble- becuase it is credible. because it is interesting.
Me- But it sucks! I am embarrassed! I may be mentally ill
Dumble- ahh Yes (in infinite wisdom) but what lesson does this reveal to you my little playwriting apprentice (whose play happens to be worse that stephanie meyers dreams but i would never tell you that)
Me- that form can never kill content!
Dumble- (infinately wise) Indeed.
Me- But i even read it in the shower! (no really)
Dum- just dont say that outloud
read it, you will love it , and when you feel stupid, just remember, dumbledore thinks youre okayu
My next odd obsession tomorrow
Sunday, October 26, 2008
in response to fasha comment about not blinking- i believe i may have achieved that this past week.
the week behind me, is what we college students in the south preverbially refer to as (and please excuse my french) a shit storm. there is really no better phrase. after spending most of last weekend, including a dreary saturday night at the sorority house in front of my computer working on a paper and believing i should be wildly ahead for the week, due this tedious and heady sacrifiace. But i quickly discovered i was laboring under a grave misapprehension. I began not sleeping all week- in fact i believe i even stopped blinking! Sunday was given up to celebrate the three years mark of the relationship with the boyfriend. some call this an anniversary. i cant really utter the phrase yet- too formal.
the monday. studied like a mad fiend for a test only AFTER completing the research for my paper. library-time of departure 5:30 am.
tuesday- wrote like rabid dog. went to bed at 6:00 am. that is put my head on the pillow and worried about my paper.
wednesday 12:00 am. receive word that paper due at 2 pm has been POSTPONED two days. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?
well after all that i turned it in anyway.
and started studying for my thursday quiz.
what a shitstorm
the week behind me, is what we college students in the south preverbially refer to as (and please excuse my french) a shit storm. there is really no better phrase. after spending most of last weekend, including a dreary saturday night at the sorority house in front of my computer working on a paper and believing i should be wildly ahead for the week, due this tedious and heady sacrifiace. But i quickly discovered i was laboring under a grave misapprehension. I began not sleeping all week- in fact i believe i even stopped blinking! Sunday was given up to celebrate the three years mark of the relationship with the boyfriend. some call this an anniversary. i cant really utter the phrase yet- too formal.
the monday. studied like a mad fiend for a test only AFTER completing the research for my paper. library-time of departure 5:30 am.
tuesday- wrote like rabid dog. went to bed at 6:00 am. that is put my head on the pillow and worried about my paper.
wednesday 12:00 am. receive word that paper due at 2 pm has been POSTPONED two days. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?
well after all that i turned it in anyway.
and started studying for my thursday quiz.
what a shitstorm
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
well my boyfriend and I -- as of next monday- have been together for three years.
I am a senior in colloge.
In about three weeks i will be 22 years old.
twenty two.
now i realize this may not seem old if you are on the other side of 22 but i am having a major crisis! what happened, i feel like i was just 17 like.. an hour ago... like i am still 17 sometimes. like i couldnt wait to be in college and its zooming by me and all i have to say was- that was it? it was a breath a moment a night. it is literally a series of four 16 week sections- thats like 16 fridays and boom its christmas. thats like 66 friday nights of college. 66 weeks of tests. 66 weeks of making friends. 66 weeks of living in a dorm being care free not having to pay for anything getting to pretend like your carrie bradshaw without all the baggage of adulthood. but thats 3000 days. that sounds like it should be so long. but its not. its going by faster and faster now that i want to stop and slow down. I feel like i am standing in front of a movie real just watching it move and staying-- wait stop id really like to enjoy that moment--- wait stop i wanted to have accomplished so much more by october 15 2008. wait stop! i wanted to have spent way more time with people than with my books. wait wait wait. i dont want this to be over so quickly. if this was supposed to be the best time of my life- i dont even know what "life" is going to look like. I hope for me it at least, it is much slower than college. its just gone too fast.
I am a senior in colloge.
In about three weeks i will be 22 years old.
twenty two.
now i realize this may not seem old if you are on the other side of 22 but i am having a major crisis! what happened, i feel like i was just 17 like.. an hour ago... like i am still 17 sometimes. like i couldnt wait to be in college and its zooming by me and all i have to say was- that was it? it was a breath a moment a night. it is literally a series of four 16 week sections- thats like 16 fridays and boom its christmas. thats like 66 friday nights of college. 66 weeks of tests. 66 weeks of making friends. 66 weeks of living in a dorm being care free not having to pay for anything getting to pretend like your carrie bradshaw without all the baggage of adulthood. but thats 3000 days. that sounds like it should be so long. but its not. its going by faster and faster now that i want to stop and slow down. I feel like i am standing in front of a movie real just watching it move and staying-- wait stop id really like to enjoy that moment--- wait stop i wanted to have accomplished so much more by october 15 2008. wait stop! i wanted to have spent way more time with people than with my books. wait wait wait. i dont want this to be over so quickly. if this was supposed to be the best time of my life- i dont even know what "life" is going to look like. I hope for me it at least, it is much slower than college. its just gone too fast.
Monday, October 6, 2008
jimmy buffet
i keep finding these inconsequential song lyrics to be more and more true:
be GOOD and you will be LONESOME
but be lonesome and you will be FREE
live a lie and you will live to regret it
thats what living is to me...
it just seems integrity is so out of style lately. and instead, people adhere to totally fake personalities. maybe its just here, where "society" and "who your daddy is" and "old money" are so important to so many. but its just hard to have a real conversation sometimes.
its lonely
but thanks jimmy. you remind me:
that its free
be GOOD and you will be LONESOME
but be lonesome and you will be FREE
live a lie and you will live to regret it
thats what living is to me...
it just seems integrity is so out of style lately. and instead, people adhere to totally fake personalities. maybe its just here, where "society" and "who your daddy is" and "old money" are so important to so many. but its just hard to have a real conversation sometimes.
its lonely
but thanks jimmy. you remind me:
that its free
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)