semi-blog kept on my computer - bite-sized journal entries from the past month and a half.
my gosh, where has april gone?
3/19, 10:07a
today and about the same time yesterday: "bagel, peanut butter and jelly!" (today: "plain bagel, peanut butter and jelly!") yesterday at kiva han. today at hunt library.
odd . . .
3/22, 9:51a
I mean, isn't it a sign that humans are inherently paradoxical by the sheer notion of reason? We tend towards explanation and organization and hope to overstep the barriers of disorder when that's where nature says we should go.
4/3, 10:52p
paper plates and plaited paper
what a dapper diningwear cooler
4/9, 11:46p
every word, only once
read it - try it - quickly
(France and the Great War)
(Edit: Haha and I only read three chapters of this book - about half. Obviously the effort I put forth didn't amount to much.)
4/13, 10:41p
too bad, timeless
commonplace
unfortunate
too bad that we're time-less
it can't last forever
we watched it run out
i'm not trying to sound pretentious or premeditated
i'm just frustrated
(sigh)
you can count the beats
we can strike that discord
i will count the time
it can't last forever
we watched it run out
true, true. i could not honestly say it was all you.
true, true.
although you were at fault, you were oblivious
oblivion
how serious.
hilarious
i wish you'd just . . .
can you count the time?
i'm too busy to keep track of the
days, the noons, the hours and the
seconds we're apart
you know, it's better
i think it's better.
you be my timepiece, and i will be here
finally a way out
let's go out tonight
x our different ways, respective
i cannot stand the burden
but maybe it will lift?
or maybe i'm just
counting in the future
where the seconds are uncertain
time draws out in the present
does it realign sometime?
x will you be mine sometime?
you can count the beats
we can strike that discord
i will count the time
it can't last forever
we watched it run out
(EDIT: "x" means possible omission)
- -
two months behind on Vogue
and just behind in general
4/16, 12:27a
and these colored pencils
paint skylines on her browlines
while she contemplates the bylines
over coffee
and the crinoline
how it's crinkled in the background, over rattan chairs, the porch air is so comforting and
spoons. minus tarnish, next to garnish
set politely on the breakfast tray
unfolds her napkin, folds her paper
my, what a lovely day, the sky's so clear
the day's so dapper
what beauty true
i only wish that you were
here.
(EDIT: I posted this one!)
4/16, 1:00a
but you know
proximity has such an advantage
maybe it was almost simultaneous
(EDIT: I can't even remember what I meant by this. I think friend drama back home. I should footnote my entries or write notes to myself.)
4/30, 6:43p
well, i'm willing to be proven wrong
if you'd like to give it a try
i just don't believe in love
i don't believe in trust at first sight
i think i'm waiting to get it right
if you'd maybe like to come along
we can try and err
and with you there
it just might work out, turn out better
it just might turn out better
I hope you noticed my foray into songwriting :) I'm practicing! I have a draft of your song, but it still needs a lot of work and is far from finished. So in the meantime I'm brushing up on my rhymes and humming a lot.
For a while we had the weather to go along with it (humming), all sunshine and spring. Now it's sunshine and chilly. Which doesn't belong in May. (But is perfectly at home in Pittsburgh.)
P.S. I'm 25 days behind on my French phrase-a-day calendar. I never thought I'd be one of those people - you know, you see those rip-a-page-a-day pads on office desks or countertops, and it's a month behind, and you think, gosh, (whoever), You need to get your life together, you don't even have enough time to read a joke a day/learn a phrase a day/process some wise quote a day, what, are you overworked or just lazy?
I'm both. Bah.
"Nous allons devoir emprunter pour pouvoir payer." We'll have to take out a loan to pay for it.
I was curious
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
and these colored pencils
paint skylines on her browlines while she contemplates the bylines over coffee
and the crinoline
how it's crinkled in the background, over rattan chairs, the porch air is so comforting and
spoons. minus tarnish, next to garnish
set politely on the breakfast tray
unfolds her napkin, folds her paper
my, what a lovely day, the sky's so clear
the day's so dapper
what beauty true
i only wish that you were
here.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
lifeoptimizer.org
French phrase of the day for Tuesday, March 18: J'aimerais avoirs plus de temps libre. "I wish I had more free time."
Unbelievable. My phrase-of-the-day calendar is mocking me.
- -
So whenever I have an unresolvable grammar problem, I Google the word and multiple usages (this goes for French papers as well as English papers, lab reports, and everything between). The quandary of a few minutes ago was "indispensable" (I had intially typed "indispensable (noted: -able, not -ible) for," saved, closed; and then when I re-read it, I thought, "indispensable to?"). Google confirms! And returns a link to "30 Practical Tips to Make Yourself Indispensable to Others," separated into six categories: Belonging, Esteem, Learning, Aesthetic, Self-Actualization, and Transcendence. On the sidebar, links to "15 Tips to Stay Positive in Negative Situations" and "30 Ways to Increase Your Mental Capacity" and "26 Tips to Stay Calm When Situation Goes Bad." And then somewhere, I can't find it anymore, "37 Lessons to Help You Live a Life that Matters." Aw. Items 27, 28, 35, 16, and 15: Harvest failure, always make new mistakes, surround yourself with A-players (haha!), listen to that little voice, and be yourself.
I think today was the first St. Patrick's Day that I FORGOT it was St. Patrick's Day and subsequently didn't wear any green. Nada. Overheard someone else comment on the date this morning in lab (conspicuous lack of green attire in the MSE dept.). Which means today (now the day after St. Pattie's) is my brother's birthday and he's a year older! Nine! Oh my gosh! I remember when my sister turned nine, or I remember asking her if she was excited to turn ten the next year. And she said she sort of was. Kenny's reaction was the same.
I can't believe he's growing up.
Sigh.
My corollary to "surrounding myself with A-players" was to always keep the company of people over ten years younger than me. Be among the very young at heart and all that. And I still do, but that ten-year age difference is becoming smaller and smaller. You can't joke about the same cheesy things with a nine-year old that you could with an eight-year old and still get an appreciative response (use the word "magic" with any recourse to humor and now the best you'll get will be a " . . . Right."); you find yourself the mantra of hassled caretakers to huffy schoolagers: Be patient, just wait - would you please be patient?? Things just can't wait when you're nine. Everything still has its novelty and you can't wait to show it to people, you just hope they'll be impressed. I hope I was impressed enough. Yo-yo tricks and new Pokemon and dinnertime stories about the author who had visited his school to talk about Alaskan voyages and a new storybook. My life certainly isn't as exciting as any of that. But when you don't respond immediately and the steadily higher and higher-pitched intonations of "Come see this!" don't stop, you wonder if you missed the boundary between maintaining interest and lavishing too much attention. I miss my brother. I see myself in him. He's got a bit of the only child in him because my sister is now too busy with school to play with him all the time, and Mom and Dad too tired and removed by work. He entertains himself, plays with stuffed animals, plays his video games, complains of boredom, tells me that I sleep too much, all the while hoping that someone will just pretend with him for a little while . . .
And so I did.
This Spring Break will be the break I reconnected with old friends. I saw and spoke to people who I'd known in high school who I hadn't had real conversations with for a year and a half. I will remember it as the break I watched my first Pokemon movie. And slept through some of it the on the first viewing. The break I baked a batch of cookies, but spooned the cookies a little bigger than I normally do (so there were fewer cookies) and had to bake another batch two days later because my sister wouldn't stop pestering me about it. The break I played "Dear Frog" with my brother and we pretended our frog stuffed animals wrote letters to each other and voiced our respective frogs, "Frog" and "Frogg." And hopefully I'll remember the last Spring Break my brother was still a child. Because he'll always be a kid in my eyes. But he's growing up. I'm powerless to stop it, and I don't want to. It's just . . . time. (:
- -
From "30 Practical Tips to Make Yourself Indispensable to Others"
Unbelievable. My phrase-of-the-day calendar is mocking me.
- -
So whenever I have an unresolvable grammar problem, I Google the word and multiple usages (this goes for French papers as well as English papers, lab reports, and everything between). The quandary of a few minutes ago was "indispensable" (I had intially typed "indispensable (noted: -able, not -ible) for," saved, closed; and then when I re-read it, I thought, "indispensable to?"). Google confirms! And returns a link to "30 Practical Tips to Make Yourself Indispensable to Others," separated into six categories: Belonging, Esteem, Learning, Aesthetic, Self-Actualization, and Transcendence. On the sidebar, links to "15 Tips to Stay Positive in Negative Situations" and "30 Ways to Increase Your Mental Capacity" and "26 Tips to Stay Calm When Situation Goes Bad." And then somewhere, I can't find it anymore, "37 Lessons to Help You Live a Life that Matters." Aw. Items 27, 28, 35, 16, and 15: Harvest failure, always make new mistakes, surround yourself with A-players (haha!), listen to that little voice, and be yourself.
I think today was the first St. Patrick's Day that I FORGOT it was St. Patrick's Day and subsequently didn't wear any green. Nada. Overheard someone else comment on the date this morning in lab (conspicuous lack of green attire in the MSE dept.). Which means today (now the day after St. Pattie's) is my brother's birthday and he's a year older! Nine! Oh my gosh! I remember when my sister turned nine, or I remember asking her if she was excited to turn ten the next year. And she said she sort of was. Kenny's reaction was the same.
I can't believe he's growing up.
Sigh.
My corollary to "surrounding myself with A-players" was to always keep the company of people over ten years younger than me. Be among the very young at heart and all that. And I still do, but that ten-year age difference is becoming smaller and smaller. You can't joke about the same cheesy things with a nine-year old that you could with an eight-year old and still get an appreciative response (use the word "magic" with any recourse to humor and now the best you'll get will be a " . . . Right."); you find yourself the mantra of hassled caretakers to huffy schoolagers: Be patient, just wait - would you please be patient?? Things just can't wait when you're nine. Everything still has its novelty and you can't wait to show it to people, you just hope they'll be impressed. I hope I was impressed enough. Yo-yo tricks and new Pokemon and dinnertime stories about the author who had visited his school to talk about Alaskan voyages and a new storybook. My life certainly isn't as exciting as any of that. But when you don't respond immediately and the steadily higher and higher-pitched intonations of "Come see this!" don't stop, you wonder if you missed the boundary between maintaining interest and lavishing too much attention. I miss my brother. I see myself in him. He's got a bit of the only child in him because my sister is now too busy with school to play with him all the time, and Mom and Dad too tired and removed by work. He entertains himself, plays with stuffed animals, plays his video games, complains of boredom, tells me that I sleep too much, all the while hoping that someone will just pretend with him for a little while . . .
And so I did.
This Spring Break will be the break I reconnected with old friends. I saw and spoke to people who I'd known in high school who I hadn't had real conversations with for a year and a half. I will remember it as the break I watched my first Pokemon movie. And slept through some of it the on the first viewing. The break I baked a batch of cookies, but spooned the cookies a little bigger than I normally do (so there were fewer cookies) and had to bake another batch two days later because my sister wouldn't stop pestering me about it. The break I played "Dear Frog" with my brother and we pretended our frog stuffed animals wrote letters to each other and voiced our respective frogs, "Frog" and "Frogg." And hopefully I'll remember the last Spring Break my brother was still a child. Because he'll always be a kid in my eyes. But he's growing up. I'm powerless to stop it, and I don't want to. It's just . . . time. (:
- -
From "30 Practical Tips to Make Yourself Indispensable to Others"
Learning
- Send them your favorite quotes.
- Take the time to do small research to answer their questions.
- Lend them your favorite books.
- Spark their curiosity by asking them smart questions.
- Tell them your favorite web sites to learn from.
- Send them the articles you find that might help them.
- Passionately share your learning experiences; it’s contagious.
Aesthetic
- Lend them your favorite CDs or DVDs.
- Tell them where they can learn to play music.
- Tell them where they can learn to draw (Drawspace is a good start by the way).
- Share your favorite wallpapers and pictures.
- Let them know of interesting cultural events you hear about.Self-actualization
- Encourage them to find their life purpose.
- Encourage them to follow their heart more than the expectations of others.
- Share with them inspirational stories about men and women who are willing to pay
the price to do what matters to them (e.g. Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa).
(I liked those! I do those with my friends all the time :D, esp. "Learning")
Saturday, March 15, 2008
unconsidered glamor
I'm doing some history reading
Gosh, I was just so struck by the wording in that sentence, by that phrase. I mean, my first contemplation of a dictator would have nothing to do with the glamor of his regime, but now that I've seen the usage in print, I would say, yes, definitely! A dictatorship is glamorous for its leader and his cronies! Your life is like a rockstar's, I mean, who's going to tell you what's what, and if someone does, you just snap your fingers and it's not a problem anymore. Anything you want, mostly anything you could want if you were in that position - power, fame, wealth, status, influence. Drugs, women. And yet they're so fickle, the success of the one-hit wonder/the popularity of the "staged a coup, so-and-so" government. It's conjuring images of VH1 "The Fabulous Life." ("Take a fast-paced, first class joy ride of lavish living, as we check out the fortune building careers and businesses of the extremely rich and famous and the incredible indulgences that come with it.")
I just never thought of it that way. Dictators would be too busy being angry and tyrannical and stewing in the ambient instability of absolute power (so-called) to enjoy the perks, right? Right? Gosh what do you do with all that power anyway. Be like Candide! Mind your own garden!
So my admiration (EDIT: awe; "admiration" was poor word choice) so expressed is pretty grotesque and now I'm back to reality, I'm thinking of Last King of Scotland and how bouncy and happy Amin could be, but then how cruel and twisted his regime was. Just got caught up in the words, that's all.
("Perhaps the June Days might have had similar consequences if republican leadership after 1848 had been equal to that after 1871 and if there had been in 1848 no young and glamorous aspirant dictator on the scene, ready to take advantage of republican division and conservative fears. In 1871 Napoleon III was old and ailing, his son young and untried, and luckily for the republic, no other substitute turned up." Wright, France in Modern Times)
a story.
we were at a wal-mart
in formal wear
(divya and tracey were there, too).
and there were $300 sunglasses there,
there was a pair with mint-green frames that i liked.
we had to look for something! i don't know. it was a scavenger hunt or something.
and i couldn't find you. called.
"where are you?"
"i'm going somewhere where you can see me. (i walk towards the front of the store) i'm sitting next to the grand piano (made of mahogany wood; on a bench-ottoman upholstered in brown leather with buttons along diagonals on the surface; in a wal-mart?)"
and you found me
and we walked.
wal-mart plus started looking like an elementary school?
we stepped out onto the back porch (wal-mart?) and it overlooked a street. i guess we were in pittsburgh. and we were leaning on the railing, you on my right, i on your left, looking up and down the street, and you asked me where we should go for dinner. anywhere you want.
and then i can't remember now how we got to that point, we were just talking, and then maybe we hugged over something inconsequential, and then you were holding me.
you told me you loved me.
i knew it, i'd known it all along, but in that moment i couldn't believe it. i mean, who would
i said it back. maybe you didn't believe me either, or you just couldn't hear me (i'm incoherent if the situation's too tense), but you asked me to say it again. and again. "i love you, too."
i mean, i don't know,
memory? dream? confabulation . . . it was too real.
in formal wear
(divya and tracey were there, too).
and there were $300 sunglasses there,
there was a pair with mint-green frames that i liked.
we had to look for something! i don't know. it was a scavenger hunt or something.
and i couldn't find you. called.
"where are you?"
"i'm going somewhere where you can see me. (i walk towards the front of the store) i'm sitting next to the grand piano (made of mahogany wood; on a bench-ottoman upholstered in brown leather with buttons along diagonals on the surface; in a wal-mart?)"
and you found me
and we walked.
wal-mart plus started looking like an elementary school?
we stepped out onto the back porch (wal-mart?) and it overlooked a street. i guess we were in pittsburgh. and we were leaning on the railing, you on my right, i on your left, looking up and down the street, and you asked me where we should go for dinner. anywhere you want.
and then i can't remember now how we got to that point, we were just talking, and then maybe we hugged over something inconsequential, and then you were holding me.
you told me you loved me.
i knew it, i'd known it all along, but in that moment i couldn't believe it. i mean, who would
i said it back. maybe you didn't believe me either, or you just couldn't hear me (i'm incoherent if the situation's too tense), but you asked me to say it again. and again. "i love you, too."
i mean, i don't know,
memory? dream? confabulation . . . it was too real.
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