1. I like writing lists. As a child I would write long lists of information copied verbatim from books that I owned. Eventually I realized I didn't need multiple copies of the same info. It did help me learn and retain stuff though (I think...)
2. I chew on the inside of my cheek when I'm thinking. My mom always assumes that I'm thinking something interesting but it can be my mind wandering or making a grocery list - or thinking of deep and profound things to say. Odds are good either way.
3. For example, I often zone out, chewing my cheek and thinking about what my life would be like if I could do magic or if I had different supernatural abilities. One of my reoccurring faves is shape shifting...
4. I like being nude. If I could I would walk around the house completely naked. Clothes just feel so confining.
5. At the same time, I really like clothes. I have far too many of them. I either feel comfortable or really damn sexy in almost everything I own - some magic items are both comfy and hot. ;)
6. I really like my body - except the stretch marks on my thighs, which I got from growing (thanks to my connective tissue disorder).
7. That said, I'm beginning to like wearing shorts anyway.
8. I have vivid dreams. I always have. I usually write them down and read them years later. Most of the time I remember them. Sometimes I don't.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Tired...
I just want to spend a day snoozing - I fed a scout breakfast this week and that meant I got up hours earlier than normal...so tired...
(Scouts are people here to check out the school - they spend a week here working and taking classes and what not so they get an idea of what this place is before they commit - although no one really knows what they've gotten themselves into until they're here...[evil laugh, although it happened to me too)])
Lots of parenthetical statements...cool.
But I'm still happy so the tiredness is easier to handle.
(Scouts are people here to check out the school - they spend a week here working and taking classes and what not so they get an idea of what this place is before they commit - although no one really knows what they've gotten themselves into until they're here...[evil laugh, although it happened to me too)])
Lots of parenthetical statements...cool.
But I'm still happy so the tiredness is easier to handle.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Not much to say, but what's here is good
The weather is nice.
I'm in love.
Some of my creative juices have been flowing again, which is great.
My new house should be ready soon.
I like my life right now.
I'm in love.
Some of my creative juices have been flowing again, which is great.
My new house should be ready soon.
I like my life right now.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Can’t Buy This
The sun was shining, illuminating occasional puffy white clouds and a big, blue Prairie sky. One arm tingled, refreshed and chilled from the AC, while one leg of my jeans was almost too hot from the sun shining in the window of S.’s ‘cranberry-purple’ car. The grey asphalt curved away, disappearing into the ditch as we drove along on our way to go grocery shopping. It’s nothing earth shattering, but it makes me happy.
We’ve gone shopping together before – it makes sense to carpool when you live out of town on a limited budget and to be perfectly honest, I’ll go with S. when I don’t need anything just to spend time with him. I love sitting in the passenger seat without a care in the world, knowing that the man I love is sitting so close to me.
We are quite different shoppers. He’s a ‘get in and get what you need and get out as fast as you can’ kind of guy, and not only because he’s so efficient in his daily life. He hates shopping, even for groceries. I don’t mind shopping. I don’t like buying so much, but I like to take my time, meandering from aisle to aisle and perusing the merchandise laid out on the shelves. Even when I’m focused and in a hurry I only go at his most relaxed pace. So far we’ve laughed about it – even if it’s sometimes only to dispel tension – avoiding any real squabbles. He bugs me that I’m going to get hit by the cart as I gaze star-struck at the shelves around me, I tease him about his scurvy-inducing phobia of the produce section.
We are also quite different when it comes to how we deal with our groceries. We were sharing a cart and as I wandered along he came up and casually put his ground beef in the cart. On top of some grapes.
“You can’t do that!” I almost shrieked.
He picked up his meat very quickly, startled. “Why not?”
“The meat juices could leak out…that’s how you get E-Coli. You can die,” I said. It seems I’ve heard that somewhere although upon reflection I don’t know if it’s true.
“It won’t leak,” he said, scoffing. “It’s sealed.” But nevertheless he put his meat on the very bottom of the cart.
I leaned towards him, instantly embarrassed for freaking out. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay,” he said, returning my kiss.
When we got to the teller, he started handing me things to put on the check-out counter. “Could you hand me the heavier stuff first?” I asked.
At his quizzical expression I explained, “It makes it easier for the person bagging the groceries if they’re in order of weight.”
“You do realize that they don’t pack them in your special order,” he said.
“Yes, but it makes it less likely that the bread will end up under the cans,” I said. I thought everyone knew this, but apparently not.
As we drove out of the valley, he shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“You are really particular when it comes to food,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m irritating you by not following your system.”
I thought for a moment. “I just forget that there’s more than one way to do things,” I said. I still felt bad for freaking out about the meat. “It surprises me and sometimes that probably sounds like I’m irritated, but I’m not. I’m not irritated with you.” I looked out at the hazy blue horizon. “I’ll try to remember that there’s more than one way to do things.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
I looked over at him, the familiar lines of his face and his blue eyes revealing themselves to me as if I’d never seen him before. “I really appreciate how you just take me in stride,” I said.
He glanced at me with a little smile in his eyes before looking back at the road. “You have to take me in stride too,” he said.
“I guess.” I was silent as I thought. “You just accept my idiosyncrasies. I appreciate it.”
He shrugged. “Why not? They’re not going to change.”
And just like that I discovered another level of love to fall into.
He accepts me right now, how I am now, and doesn’t need me to change for him to love me.
It surprised me. It still does – I guess I didn’t think I’d find someone who would, or could, accept me like that.
I had that goofy Bridget Jones smile on my face the rest of the way home. When he asked me why I had no answer except “I’m happy”. I finally understood the magic of those words – “He loves me just the way I am”. There is no phrase as perfect in the English language.
Or as priceless.
We’ve gone shopping together before – it makes sense to carpool when you live out of town on a limited budget and to be perfectly honest, I’ll go with S. when I don’t need anything just to spend time with him. I love sitting in the passenger seat without a care in the world, knowing that the man I love is sitting so close to me.
We are quite different shoppers. He’s a ‘get in and get what you need and get out as fast as you can’ kind of guy, and not only because he’s so efficient in his daily life. He hates shopping, even for groceries. I don’t mind shopping. I don’t like buying so much, but I like to take my time, meandering from aisle to aisle and perusing the merchandise laid out on the shelves. Even when I’m focused and in a hurry I only go at his most relaxed pace. So far we’ve laughed about it – even if it’s sometimes only to dispel tension – avoiding any real squabbles. He bugs me that I’m going to get hit by the cart as I gaze star-struck at the shelves around me, I tease him about his scurvy-inducing phobia of the produce section.
We are also quite different when it comes to how we deal with our groceries. We were sharing a cart and as I wandered along he came up and casually put his ground beef in the cart. On top of some grapes.
“You can’t do that!” I almost shrieked.
He picked up his meat very quickly, startled. “Why not?”
“The meat juices could leak out…that’s how you get E-Coli. You can die,” I said. It seems I’ve heard that somewhere although upon reflection I don’t know if it’s true.
“It won’t leak,” he said, scoffing. “It’s sealed.” But nevertheless he put his meat on the very bottom of the cart.
I leaned towards him, instantly embarrassed for freaking out. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay,” he said, returning my kiss.
When we got to the teller, he started handing me things to put on the check-out counter. “Could you hand me the heavier stuff first?” I asked.
At his quizzical expression I explained, “It makes it easier for the person bagging the groceries if they’re in order of weight.”
“You do realize that they don’t pack them in your special order,” he said.
“Yes, but it makes it less likely that the bread will end up under the cans,” I said. I thought everyone knew this, but apparently not.
As we drove out of the valley, he shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“You are really particular when it comes to food,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m irritating you by not following your system.”
I thought for a moment. “I just forget that there’s more than one way to do things,” I said. I still felt bad for freaking out about the meat. “It surprises me and sometimes that probably sounds like I’m irritated, but I’m not. I’m not irritated with you.” I looked out at the hazy blue horizon. “I’ll try to remember that there’s more than one way to do things.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
I looked over at him, the familiar lines of his face and his blue eyes revealing themselves to me as if I’d never seen him before. “I really appreciate how you just take me in stride,” I said.
He glanced at me with a little smile in his eyes before looking back at the road. “You have to take me in stride too,” he said.
“I guess.” I was silent as I thought. “You just accept my idiosyncrasies. I appreciate it.”
He shrugged. “Why not? They’re not going to change.”
And just like that I discovered another level of love to fall into.
He accepts me right now, how I am now, and doesn’t need me to change for him to love me.
It surprised me. It still does – I guess I didn’t think I’d find someone who would, or could, accept me like that.
I had that goofy Bridget Jones smile on my face the rest of the way home. When he asked me why I had no answer except “I’m happy”. I finally understood the magic of those words – “He loves me just the way I am”. There is no phrase as perfect in the English language.
Or as priceless.
Evaluated (June 10, 2007)
Although I wrote this one several weeks ago, it's still extremely relevant to me and I don't know why. I had a meeting about my evaluations and those same feelings all came up again. Just what exactly is this voice trying to tell me? I'd like to know now, please...
I got my evaluations yesterday.
They were all good, as in the criticisms were constructive.
My teachers picked up on new things that I need to learn, which means they’ve either given up on my old bad habits or I’ve outgrown them.
My playwriting teacher had the longest, and most thought-provoking, evaluation.
I’m still processing, but so far I’ve already learned one thing.
I think I’m explaining.
Everyone else hears excuses.
I’m confused but I guess I’ll stop explaining things when they go wrong and just…
…accept the consequences.
Which for some reason I am reluctant to do.
Recalcitrant. Resistant. Rebellious.
I don’t understand but I think it’s true.
I don’t like it.
Rebel – renounce, or take up arms against, authority; revolt. L. re-again, bellum-war.
Recalcitrant – show resistance; refractory. L. re-back, calcitro-kick.
Refractory – unruly, obstinate. Unmanageable, perverse.
Reluctant – unwilling, disinclined. L. re-against, luctor-struggle.
Resistant – make opposition to, strive against. L. re-against, sisto-stand.
I got my evaluations yesterday.
They were all good, as in the criticisms were constructive.
My teachers picked up on new things that I need to learn, which means they’ve either given up on my old bad habits or I’ve outgrown them.
My playwriting teacher had the longest, and most thought-provoking, evaluation.
I’m still processing, but so far I’ve already learned one thing.
I think I’m explaining.
Everyone else hears excuses.
I’m confused but I guess I’ll stop explaining things when they go wrong and just…
…accept the consequences.
Which for some reason I am reluctant to do.
Recalcitrant. Resistant. Rebellious.
I don’t understand but I think it’s true.
I don’t like it.
Rebel – renounce, or take up arms against, authority; revolt. L. re-again, bellum-war.
Recalcitrant – show resistance; refractory. L. re-back, calcitro-kick.
Refractory – unruly, obstinate. Unmanageable, perverse.
Reluctant – unwilling, disinclined. L. re-against, luctor-struggle.
Resistant – make opposition to, strive against. L. re-against, sisto-stand.
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