add-on

receiving season 4 of the x-files for christmas has completed my set.
guess what i've been doing all my life these past few days?

i'm real lame, i know.


there's just something magical -- like addicting.

rest in me

orion shines brightly to my left when i let nikki outside for a quick lawn break -- she's a good dog, a chocolate lab with lantern eyes that beg for table scraps (i succumb without anyone knowing - save her and probably sambo (our fat cat))..
he twinkles, i tell ya' -- and the air is so clean (or maybe not -- but with the cold jabs to my lungs, it just seems clean)... tiny puffs of cold billow from my mouth - and they block the stars just for a moment, but he's still there...

and so i sit at an unknown bar - the people who owned this house before my family got a divorce. the woman who filed sold it -- said it was too big. that thought haunts me as i sit here -- they sat here. many conversations about good times, bad times, wild sex times -- strangers. strangers whose lives are completely different now that they don't have each other. they no longer can sit face to face at this pale green counter top... i'm here with a dell laptop listening to iron and wine and pedro the lion with the noise of the disney channel smothering the melodies.

roman is watching tv. roger, avidly playing counter-strike, is also trying to talk to his girlfriend, karin, over the phone -- our bird, peetree, he lets out squawks now and then -- and mom sleeps silently, but sadly.

we're all sad now and then. the people who owned this house are probably sad tonight -- they can longer see orion shining brightly to their left when they open the back door, but i can. we stole a piece of their life -- somehow i feel guilty

one more thing...

just as a touch of humor for the night --

this kid named blake marshall went to my high school -- we were friends. we did things like academic teams and yearbook, but he always liked me way too much. the boys he hung out with, the "popular kind", always made fun of him as some sort of deflection device and thought it was funny. i always thought he was above that.
moving along, he told me one time my sophomore year in college that he could see me being a perfect wife - now i admit, to some people that might be true -- seriously, though, not for him.. i think on my own, i have compassion for the poor people who get roped in to buying lottery tickets, mostly, i don't think that white, heterosexual, middle class men have it bad - there are just somethings we'd disagree on. however,i always thought he was a nice guy. i'm almost positive we could have stayed friends...
on his most recent post, however, he made public a little tiff we had about a christian college syndrome -- lots of people feel the necissity to marry, find a finacee, or be tied down before graduation from this small college.
as it happens, andy and i did meet via our school -- he wasn't a student when we started dating -- he was already graduated. i understand that it might seem like i can't be an advocate for waiting until after college, since i met andy while i was in college... but, i was just honestly giving him my true opinion.
and now, according to one of his friends, i don't have heart -- where i'm lacking there, i make up for with self-righteous piety, my friend anna, too. we suck and have no compassion at all.
funny how that works, i suppose.
so much for loving people.

neverwrongyouagain

moving right along all those "how was your day" formalities and shifting into my girly-ness, i miss him. i miss him. it's been 21 days and there are things i just can't live without - for instance, how he picks his nose and wipes the uncoveries on the wall next to his bed...
some other things, too -- but i'll spare you.

ice man

another christmas -- this makes my 21st..
they all mesh together.

one christmas i had my dad -- the next, i didn't.

one christmas i had a sing-song, blonde mermaid -- the next, i didn't...
packed away in boxes, wrapped in translucent memories -- the kind that can't resurface...
dust from the attic
ashes from the fire.

too much pain
on this christmas...

i'll put it in submission with money and a new coat. merry christmas.
happy holidays.

everyothernight

i'm tired of hurting - and tired of caring - and tired of feeling heavy. my toes are always cold - and my heart is always being drained.
raped.
and left for dead.

expected to, of course, love everyone else -- despite the foul tension in the air.
i sacrifice myself
and turn up empty handed.

and i'm tired of bleeding
to death..

do you understand?

i am a sugary kinda girl;
i love big;
i love lots - and also cry.

i am a spit-fire kinda' girl;
i hate big;
i hate lots - and also cry.


(but mostly, i try -
and then mostly
i cry)
********************************************

he's six hours away -
but ten days in the binoculars
far off in that destitute.


so, i am here in wisconsin -
i feel like lucy in the forest without the furs...
my lampost is shining days away.


****************************************

my friend anna is leaving soon - wish her luck across the pond....
bon voyage - much love.

****************************************

medley over
[fin]

blue bottle and mirror

battle axe
tiny, super hero figurines lining the computer
a dishelved bed
the sims (c) hot date

my brother's room --

a hand me down bed
and a caro football jersey --

eclectic.

tinsel hockey

in bichon friese mood --
with modest mouse. doesn't make sense...
but what does?

ten hours, or an hour and a half -- the difference is yet to be seen.

6 hours from the city...
which is populated by one boy
and one cat...


icy roads
poison ivy
and christmas lights.

fat cat's on my lap.

tahiti lovin'

i wish i had dark skin and lots of sun --

things are hard, always.

if they are easy, watch out - it's not natural to have things running smoothly.

trick is - let's find joy.

oh wait, that's real hard, too...

i'm flying to wisconsin today -
watch out, brothers -- here i come.




ps. i'm scared to death of flying.
-gold teeth and a curse for this town-

snow globe dreams

it's about that time --
wool socks and lonely.

anna says things are changing
i agree

the outside has a new layer of ever so slight frosting...
my hair is still damp from a moment ago's shower,
but my feet are warm.

i am here - part of me is littered around the country
wisconsin
northern chicago
west virgina
ohio
a little bit south
a little bit north
and me,
here -- with ben gibbard and my thoughts.

currently, i have a grandma who is sleeping on the couch just feet away -- she rests with a broken heart, but no one really knows.
i try, sometimes
other times, i don't -- but always i hurt. we all always hurt in some form or another...

'jesus of nazareth sings the true song...with the ancient harmonies'
i wonder if he sounds like ben gibbard?

approach gently

the sun shines in through these mahogany blinds -- i squint to see
but that's how i usually look at the world. don't ask me why.

2 days until i see my brothers... until i see my family, our cat and dog
and then
13 days until i see my boyfriend...

today is a bright-sing-out-loud kinda' day -- not just any song -- a joyous, from the bottom of my soul song

[teach me some melodious sonnet
sung from flaming tongues above]

there's something about warm sunshine through windows on cold days --
and sweat pants days at home. i'm comfortable today -- and it's been a long time coming.

tram vs. chime night

a shallow hung lemon moon decorates my kitchen window. it's a cold night here in farmland, indiana -- contrasted by warm dryer shirts with 5 loads of laundry now completed. i'm lonely tonight. i'm clumbsy tonight.

i fell down about 5 stairs earlier. my sweat pants are too big and soon will be the end of me. i laughed out loud after i made sure my arm wasn't broken. i suppose i would have laughed harder if my arm had been broken - but probably not.

1,472 people live in my town -- i feel like running for queen. Queen of Farmland, Indiana. pretty prestigous, i'd say. i'd wear a lot of cream and pink. maybe green for town get-togethers.

my toes always turn to ice when i'm home.

ice toes - the self proclaimed (soon to be official) queen of farmland.
ice toes - the lonely, the clumbsy -- ruler of all lemon moons.

*

various. 

yellow 

blayh blah blah 

conversations with the lame

here it is:

i just think i want to stab someone. there are a handful of people i would exclude from the list of potential stabbing victims -- but other than those few, there would be no restraints... but a few preferences.

starting with xanga users. not all of them mind you. just the ones who are always cheerful and tiptoe around the real issue just because every single person who goes to this school can read it. i was reading a few tonight, mainly to make fun (shh, don't tell) and i just usually cannot believe what is before my eyes. there is this addition to xanga that allows people to see what you are "currently watching" or "currently listening to" -- bizarre i tell ya. i just can't fathom... so i won't try. i'll stab.

next, bad drivers -- more specifically, bad parking lot drivers. my road rage boils in parking lots. i just can't stand people who don't use turn signals -- all except bryce. i like him. i am selective though. usually once i don't like you, it's permanent

then, i would, if i could, find the person who does not shut off the coffee pot here at work when it gets empty. i do not want to scrub burnt coffee off of the bottom of the pot. damn it. i hate it.

and then, basically, this one girl i always see at the DC. she always, always wears clothes that are revealing. sick revealing, too. belly and boobs and back. is that possible? yes. prior to seeing this girl nearly everyday, i'd say no -- but now the truth has been revealed to me. her hair is in an up-do every night too. it's like she spends 2 hours getting ready for the day -- and probably all together, 5 hours primping in between sitting down at her desk and eating at the dc and doing homework. earth to you, girl.

then, maybe i'd stab myself to end this pathetic, suffering-laden life of mine.

the end for now...

of picture phones and sun dresses

today, in my research class, a girl gave a presentation on attractiveness -- her hypothesis was that college aged people would think that men with chest and trunk hair significantly less attractive than men with bare chests and trunks. this was funny -- however, that's not my point. in her literature review, she found some facts about beauty -- she said something along the lines,"pre 20th century, for women, soft and plump was beautiful. now, it's thin and athletic"... i looked at the guy sitting next to me and disclosed that i wish it was pre 20th century.

last night, i dreamed of our wedding again, and it ended the same way -- botched up. the first dream i ever had, andy proposed to me at a petting zoo then the barn turned into a church and he already had my dress, but as i was walking down the aisle, they weren't playing the song i desperately want -- so i turned around, and started over.

the next one i had was over thanksgiving break, and i had an amazing dress, but i was marrying aaron marlow. yes, that's right. a high school boyfriend whom i haven't spoken with in over 3 years, i wasn't disappointed about marrying him - i was just upset that he had gotten me a tear shaped diamond.

last night, i had a sun dress on with no shoes and we were having it in my grandparents back yard, except we forgot to invite anyone -- so i was calling people left and right. my g'ma tried to convince me to wear a sweater -- i got incredibly mad and ripped the phone from the wall. then, i remembered that we dind't have rings to exchange -- being not prepared is stressful even in my dreams. then my dad shows up, odd thing about that is, my dad's been dead for four years. him showing up didn't freak me out, though, because he had on a hawai'ian shirt with khacki shorts -- so i just assumed he was on vacation. then it got too dark to have the wedding...

what? odd.

i failed a physics test today -
andy got a picture phone --
i got paid

that's about it.

fortified city of Wayne

what do i look like to you? honestly? maybe with my blonde hair and petite frame, you perceive me as a societal laughing stock (who is nice to look at) i mean, blondes do have more fun. or maybe with my paint jeans and messy hair, i might be someone who just doesn't give a fuck... here's the thing -- usually, i don't.

it's like this -- don't talk to me like i am incapable of understanding you. don't talk over my head, so i am incapable of understanding.. just to make yourself seem better...

and here it is plainly -- do not flirt with me. okay? just don't do it. don't think that you are some supreme being because you are a guy who knows a little bit about computers.. .and p.s., while you are talking to me like i have an IQ just a little above a slug, do not look at my chest.

what if we started talking about world poverty or homosexuality or the racial injusticies that plague our nation and my views on such issues... why can't that ever happen? why must these boys, freshmen boys at that, strike up a conversation about what makes them seem amazingly awesome. to add insult to injury, it's usually about things that just don't matter.... who gives a fuck if you can install viruses or even if you create them -- why don't you focus your energy on leaving me the hell alone and typing your paper? okay?

what a creep. then after all of this, he forces me to end the conversation, which didn't happen any too soon, awkwardly... maybe just so he can steal a fleeting glance at my butt...

some boys, i tell ya....