stop snoozing?

When my alarm went off this morning, I turned it off. Didn't just hit the snooze* button---turned the whole thing off**. Which means that, when I actually finally did wake up on my own accord, it was 8.30. A whole half hour into ENG 251.

There was that moment of blind panic: kicking my comforter off and leaping to my closet, pulling on a jacket and dirty jeans, stuggling to find matching shoes. I was hurriedly pulling my hair into some sort of acceptable ponytail when it dawned on me: pointless. Utterly pointless. By the time I got to class I'd have all of fifteen minutes left. Even Hawthorne isn't worth that.

So I painted instead.

* * * * *

*snooze: does anyone else find this word as disturbing as I do? That nasal double o, the sticky z ending . . . there's always that momentary spark of disgust every morning I see it glowing on my cell phone screen---'snooze?' it says. I hit 'yes.' 'Snooze on,' it declares. Ick.

**I honestly haven't done this for at least two years. I'm still kind of sort of in shock.

catalyst

Last night I came home from the late night showing of Orfeu Negro with a swing in my step and the insane desire to dance.

Follow you home,
You've got your headphones on
And you're dancing

This morning I woke up to sleet and snow and set about clearing out my desk to the latin beat of Santana's Satellite.

Y por tu cielo navegar
Abre tu corazon y dejate llevar
A otro mundo vamos a llegar

Tonight I wrote it down, made it official. I've been saying it far too long (and thinking it even longer), but this time I'm quick-quick-slow stepping into it:

this is the year I learn to salsa.

Next Time,

I'm going to hike the Abel Tasman Track, all five days of it.

We'll build a tree root hut on Rabbit Island and live there for at least an entire day, if not more. I'll weave the walls and you will fish and we'll float in that calm blue water until we've been borne across the bay and have to swim back to shore, running to our stick-and-stone hut, slap-slap across the sand.

I'll spend every single day outside, be it hiking, cycling, kayaking or running.

We won't be afraid to wave at him maniacally from the bus. He loves you, we know that now.

I'll take every offer to go out of town, be it Punakaike or Rotorua.

I'll eat a chip with tomato paste. One chip. Maybe.

We'll take the bus to Kaikoura, just the two of us. We'll pretend we're British tourists and say things like "jolly good" and "blimey!"

I'll stay over at Georgia's and we'll map out a rough draft of Footsteps on the Window. She'll still direct, though I'm not sure I want the lead anymore.

I'll do everything I did before all over again---not because it wasn't right the first time, but because we couldn't have done it better.

(And Salome won't get away so easily. Next time, I won't let her fall.)

raspberries!

Someone's left little yellow post-its all over campus---boards, benches, fence links, door handles, you name it---with the pen-written reminder "I love you."

Praise the people, I want to write this person back. He's made my day.

top five : moments of the day

5. Flashback to afternoons spent riding my bike through Hope, making me run a little bit harder.

4. Cut-and-paste doodling in my journal.

3. A call from the Fantastically Fictitious---he's coming to visit tomorrow!

2. Lexi Khan's Most Brilliant Discussion on Darfur at Students for Africa.

1. Vacuuming dirt from X's sheets as she lay there laughing at the idea that she'd just been awakened by my lovely potted plant toppling from the window sill onto her head.

post-patrick thought

I always figured that wearing green was a part of a childhood past; that the whole pinch-punishment was something to forget after elementary years. I mean, I think that---and then it's the morning of the seventeenth and I find myself threading a green necklace around my neck and slipping on my green sandals.

I'm outside all that day, passing crowds of students, families, couples. I begin to tally up the wearers-o-the-green, ticking them off on my fingers as they pass by. I am gobsmacked. They are all wearing green. Young, old, inbetween. Green, green, green. I passed a hand-holding couple that had coordinated their Patty's Day attire from green t-shirt to painted toe. I love that we are all so influenced by the whims of society.

* * * * *

On another note (albeit still green), I was once green girl. Green's girl, rather. Oh, the color-coded relationships of seventh grade . . .

flyers and ducks and pda--oh my!

I know, I know, you've heard entirely too much of me lately, but I'll make this quick. In short, Divine Comedy freakin' rocks. Tonight's show was, without contest, the best I've ever seen. From Disney princesses interrupted to Easter gazelles to idiosnyergy and philosophers speaking in hubris I was absolutely non-stop laughing. It didn't help that the central show---The Wizard of the Wilk---was spot-on; I'll be quoting that one for days.

And, in keeping with my J-named boys, I'm in love with Jono.

In love with Jono!

Iiiiiinn love with Jono, step in time, In love with Jono, step in time. Never need a reason, never need a rhyme: step in time, step in time!

Okay, so maybe you had to be there.

Pyrotechnics!

Villa-Lobos: Prelude #4 in E Minor, A 419/4

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question.




What does this upcoming year have in store for me?
Independence Day (Melanie C [Bend it Like Beckham])

How about the next year?
Way Back Into Love (Hugh Grant & Drew Barrymore)

What does your love life look like?
The Tide is High (Atomic Kittens)

What will tomorrow bring?
Roman Candles (Elliot Smith)

What do I say when life gets hard?
Sweet Surrender (Sarah McLachlan)

How about when it's a breeze?
Goodbye to You (Michelle Branch)

What do I think of when I get up in the morning?
Who Painted the Moon Black? (Hayley Westenra)

What do I think before I fall asleep?
I Second the Emotion (Smokey Robinson)

What song will I dance to at my wedding?
Sweetness (Jimmy Eat World)

What do I want to do for my career?
All At Sea (Jamie Callum)

Your favorite saying?
Niente Di Piu (LunaPop)

Favorite place?
Never Leave Lonely Alone (Ben Harper)

Favorite vacation?
Hollow Head (Sloan)

What do you think of your parents?
Fear Not the Wild Things (Kalai)

What do you think of your siblings?
Meet Me By The Water (Rachel Yamagata)

What do you think of your best friend?
Copperline (James Taylor)

Boyfriend?
The Only Boy Living in New York (Simon & Garfunkel)

Where would you go on a first date?
He Woke Me Up Again (Sufjan Stevens)

Where are you going to propose?
Wild World (Cat Stevens)

What's your graduation song?
Your Eyes Open (Keane)

What are you going to name your first born son?
Kwmbayah (BYU Men's Chorus)

And your first born daughter?
Psychobabble (Frou Frou)

Drug of choice?
On The Ride (Aly & AJ)

Describe yourself.
遇到 (方雅贤)

What is the thing I like doing most?
Girl on the Wing (The Shins)

The song that best describes the president?
Goodnight to a Mother's Dream (Nanci Griffith)

What is my state of mind like at the moment?
Demons (Guster)

How will I die?
Ain't No Sunshine (Bill Withers)

What will my last words be?
I Wanna Know (Dead Flowers)

What will people remember about me?
Field Below (Regina Spektor)

The song that will be played at my funeral?
For Elena (Cinema Paradiso)

What will they engrave on my tombstone?
Come Away With Me (Norah Jones)

The song you'll put as the title:
Villa-Lobos: Prelude #4 in E Minor, A 419/4

* * * * *

Couldn't resist---some of these answers were just too classic (Fear Not the Wild Things? Come Away With Me?!)---thanks to thirdmango for the diversion; it was worth it. And M, if nothing else, this should warrant a blog post from you. It's been a long time, my friend.

nineteen again again

Hold up. Forget everything I've ever said about nineteen, be it mathematical or musical.

This is nineteen.

Zhi Shu and Cadbury Eggs? Gold star goes to Molly for the day---this is just too, too much.

nineteen again

In honor of the most esteemed Ali's wishes, a second list of nineteens from the perspective of what it means to me.

* * * * *

Nineteen is a slightly chilled morning walk to an 8 o'clock class.

Nineteen is running to Jack's Mannequin and Regina Spektor, your steps in sync with the heartbeat of Dark Blue.

Nineteen is wearing espadrilles and carrying a magenta bag.

Nineteen is four texts, fifteen emails (at least ten of those creepy e-cards, courtesy of a crazy sister), nine voice mails, and one package in the mail.

Nineteen is a nap in the sun before Italian and the "Ciao, ragazza," whispered just for me as Paolo swivels into his seat, late as ever.

Nineteen is coming home to a bouquet of tulips across your keyboard, lipstick red with all the hope of spring. It's the card that comes with it, a top ten list stamped with an E and signed with an X.

Nineteen is an hour breathing book-dust in the nooks and crannies of Pioneer Book on Center Street. It's buying A History of Art in the Italian Renaissance just because your mom has it on her bookshelf at home and it reminds you of all you want to be.

Nineteen is chinese takeout and a new book to read.

Nineteen is a quiet night alone and tucking in early because really, no matter what today has been, tomorrow is tomorrow and my alarm is set for five.

things you either love or hate

the color yellow

mary-kate & ashley olsen

macs

polo shirts

brussel sprouts

harry potter

slam poetry

nineteen

Nineteen (19) is the natural number following eighteen and preceding twenty.

19 is an odd number.

19 is the 8th smallest prime number.

19 is the smallest Higgs prime for squares and cubes that has an index among Higgs primes that is less than its index among primes overall (because 17 is not a Higgs prime).

19 is the atomic number of potassium.

19 is the number of angels guarding Hell according to the Qu'ran.

19 has been used as an alternative to twelve for a division of the octave into equal parts.

19x19 is the standard size of a Go Board.

In 19 B.C. the poet Virgil died just as King Herod began rebuilding the Temple of Jerusalem.

On the first of January, 1919, author J.D. Salinger was born. On the 15th of March in the same year, the American Legion formed in Paris---and that July, Sir Edmund Hillary was born in New Zealand.

So, you know, nineteen's kind of great. And I'm more than looking forward to it. Happy Birthday to me.

true story

Found and taken from the tunnel between Helaman and the RB.

* * * * *

Doesn't help that I have Josh Groban's "You Are Loved (Don't Give Up)" stuck in my head.

sulky squirrel

Okay, so the title has nothing to do with the post. I was just rather taken by the phrase while reading Ibsen's A Doll House and thought I should put it to use, no matter how opposing the circumstances. You see, I am not sulky in the slightest. Sunny, joyful, jolly, bright---but certainly not sulky.

Once again my Thursday faith has pulled through, and the day shone in silver puddles of night's rain, a sure sign of good things to come. I woke up alert and alive, surprised at my body's response after only four hour's worth of sleep. I went to class. I loved class. I talked to James. Loved James. I came home. Announced my Spring Semester Resolution. I got a call. We got the apartment. Kismet.

Commence ridiculous running and screaming up and down the dormitory halls. Commence dizzy flights of future imaginings. Commence irrepressible circle-jumping.

I. am. beyond. happy.

* * * * *

Friendly reminder: wear white. It's International Women's Day, show your pride and support. And yes, Ali. I know what you're thinking. But I do actually own a white shirt. Really. I surprise myself sometimes.

* * * * *

Heh. Several sunlit days.

spring song

sing a song to shadow
(sing to it of light)
for Spring may come tomorrow
(and with it, all things right).

sing of sun-soaked meadow,
hum of bee's first flight:
trilling comes the sparrow
and crickets sound the night.

sing for barefoot wand'rings
'midst slant of golden sun
where dandelion tumblings
dance of things to come.

sing in scales of new rain:
light mist and lion's storm--
forget the cold of Winter's pain
and hail Spring's bright reform.

sing a song to shadow
(sing to it of light)
for Spring may come tomorrow
(and with it, all things right).

* * * * *

Remembered & Revised. Waiting on that Formulaic Happenstance, Aaron---and not just the hemorrhage of words and second sorrows. All of it. That's the rule.

too late to title