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.

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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