"what if I got it wrong
and no poet or song
could put right what I got wrong
or make you feel I belong"--Coldplay, What If
I was reading some other blogs yesterday and I realized that there are issues I have yet to address on mine, namely Christianity. I don't know why it took me so long to get around to my own personal feelings on the subject. I have been a Christian since I was 13 years old. As I look back now it seems so young but my life has always been full of heartache so at thirteen I was far from the innocent girl you might think. Though the biggest test of my faith came much later at the age of 18. It's amazing how close two years ago can still seem sometimes. A number of factors came together to leave me feeling alone and unable to control my surroundings. If you have read earlier entries then you know about my battle with various eating disorders, namely bulemia. After reaching my bottom I went to Christian counseling and it quite literally saved my life. Now being here has been a test on its own. Europe is not religion central, to say the least. Out of my core group of friends, two are athiests, one is an agnostic, and the other is a struggling Christian like myself. One of my athiest friends tried to break my resolve toward Christianity by showing me how foolish it was. We would go rounds around each other and I tried all the basic "salvation arguments" in the book. Finally I told him about the things I had gone through two summers ago and what Christianity had done for me. I told him that I could never turn my back on God completely because of this experience. Finally he understood and we haven't fought over it since. We occasionally talk about theology but I'm not trying to convert him and he's not trying to convert me. Maybe there are those out there who think that I'm not doing my Christian duty by letting his beliefs be. Maybe I'm not. But in the end God isn't insecure and neither am I. My Christian walk is more of a stumbling, meandering stagger. I don't read my Bible like I should or go to church at all. I get annoyed when people act like Christianity is the only thing in their life worth talking about, namely my mother. As someone once so eloquently put it, "i'm not one of those christians that oozes with Godliness".
I don't know what any of this entry was supposed to mean except that my friends back home don't need to start worrying about my salvation yet and my friends here don't have to worry about me throwing a Bible at them yet.
Tuesday, February 28
Monday, February 27
"I'm not losing me, I'm gaining you"
I heard a long time ago, in an effort to keep me chaste, that every time you have sex with someone you give a piece of yourself away. Now I maintain that this is true and I'm not condoning casual sex. Though I was thinking about this in the context of Love. Everytime you love someone you give them a piece of you. I know this every time I look at my friend who has never loved someone. There is something freeing about giving yourself away but somehow I feel a little more broken than she is. Then it occured to me that if I'm giving myself away then so are they and it is their gift to me that fills the space my gift has left. It's like the Counting Crows said, "me but all you but still me". I am a mixture of people that have come in and out of my life. I might have a track record but it makes me a better person in the end, having all these pieces that converge to make me the complex individual I am. This is why you should choose the choice of your affection wisely, they will be with you long after they have gone.
I heard a long time ago, in an effort to keep me chaste, that every time you have sex with someone you give a piece of yourself away. Now I maintain that this is true and I'm not condoning casual sex. Though I was thinking about this in the context of Love. Everytime you love someone you give them a piece of you. I know this every time I look at my friend who has never loved someone. There is something freeing about giving yourself away but somehow I feel a little more broken than she is. Then it occured to me that if I'm giving myself away then so are they and it is their gift to me that fills the space my gift has left. It's like the Counting Crows said, "me but all you but still me". I am a mixture of people that have come in and out of my life. I might have a track record but it makes me a better person in the end, having all these pieces that converge to make me the complex individual I am. This is why you should choose the choice of your affection wisely, they will be with you long after they have gone.
Friday, February 24
I may take a holiday in Spain
Leave my wings behind me
Drink my worries down the drain
And fly away to somewhere new
I'm leaving to go to Norway tomorrow morning and this fact is both the worst thing and the best thing. I want nothing more than to get away from it all but I'm so tired of dealing with all the traveling. My body is tired and my soul is tired. Here is a song that gives me hope that there is healing, acceptance, and most of all Love at the end. It's by Blue Merle and named Part of your history
I always knew that you'd do great things
didn't ever want to slow you down
I was there when you learned to use your wings
and I saw you leave the ground
time spent in your sweet arms
was the best time that i've known
maybe the reason i was here at all
is to see you carry on
don't you know i'm still remembering
i was once someone to you
girl you were meant for something better
it doesn't matter anymore what you think of me
just proud to be part of your history
I knew the time was coming soon
'cause you were growing up so fast
sometimes you can lose so much
when you try to make it last
I always knew you'd do great things
didn't ever want to slow you down
i was there when you learned to use your wings
and i saw you leave the ground
don't you know i'm still remembering
i was once someone to you
girl you were meant for something bigger
it doesn't matter anymore what you think of me
just proud to be part of your history
doesn't matter anymore 'cause you set me free
just proud to be part of your history
Leave my wings behind me
Drink my worries down the drain
And fly away to somewhere new
I'm leaving to go to Norway tomorrow morning and this fact is both the worst thing and the best thing. I want nothing more than to get away from it all but I'm so tired of dealing with all the traveling. My body is tired and my soul is tired. Here is a song that gives me hope that there is healing, acceptance, and most of all Love at the end. It's by Blue Merle and named Part of your history
I always knew that you'd do great things
didn't ever want to slow you down
I was there when you learned to use your wings
and I saw you leave the ground
time spent in your sweet arms
was the best time that i've known
maybe the reason i was here at all
is to see you carry on
don't you know i'm still remembering
i was once someone to you
girl you were meant for something better
it doesn't matter anymore what you think of me
just proud to be part of your history
I knew the time was coming soon
'cause you were growing up so fast
sometimes you can lose so much
when you try to make it last
I always knew you'd do great things
didn't ever want to slow you down
i was there when you learned to use your wings
and i saw you leave the ground
don't you know i'm still remembering
i was once someone to you
girl you were meant for something bigger
it doesn't matter anymore what you think of me
just proud to be part of your history
doesn't matter anymore 'cause you set me free
just proud to be part of your history
Thursday, February 23
"I can look in to your eyes and see the mess we're in. Well darling if it's shit came out then I suppose that its shit went in."
I'm pissed.
I was telling my friend that has never had a boyfriend that there are different types of break-ups. There are those that tear your heart apart because you really thought you were going to be together forever, those are the ones you never really get over. Then there are the ones that it hits you one day that you don't quite go together as a couple and really shouldn't date anymore, those are relatively peaceful and can end with the two of you being friends. Then there are those that you fight for and fight for only to realize that one day that maybe it's better if you're not together. Once you've been a part for a while and see what the other person is really like you become severely pissed off that you even wasted so much time on the relationship in the first place. I am there.
I'm pissed.
I was telling my friend that has never had a boyfriend that there are different types of break-ups. There are those that tear your heart apart because you really thought you were going to be together forever, those are the ones you never really get over. Then there are the ones that it hits you one day that you don't quite go together as a couple and really shouldn't date anymore, those are relatively peaceful and can end with the two of you being friends. Then there are those that you fight for and fight for only to realize that one day that maybe it's better if you're not together. Once you've been a part for a while and see what the other person is really like you become severely pissed off that you even wasted so much time on the relationship in the first place. I am there.
Wednesday, February 22
so I went to Turino, Italia this weekend for the Winter Olympics. Totally awesome and since I know I will have to tell this story a million times here is a condensed version so I can at least pretend that it will decrease the number of times I repeat this story.
So we started out on Friday evening at 7. We (Kirsten, Elizabeth, Fran, and I) had to take a train to London, a subway to the bus station, a bus to the airport and then sleep in the airport so we could make our 10am flight. We survived the first night on the tile floor and later some semi-comfortable chairs. We arrived in Italy and took a bus into the town center. We didn't have a place to stay for the night so we wondered around the city, looking at the different plazas. We ran into some Italian guys and then American guys who gave us the idea of going to a pub to get out of the cold for a while. When I walked in to the pub I immediately spotted these two girls wearing Texas A&M shirts. We sat down with them to drink and eat and soon discovered that most people in the bar were in the same predictament as we were, without a place to stay. The rest of the night was amazing. We stayed at the pub till 4am making friends with tons of countries. By the end of the night Kirsten and I were friends with nearly everyone in the bar. Finally the time came to leave our new best friends to catch our train to Milan where we had reserved a hostel. We found some americans that were living in Switzerland that were staying in Milan also and rode with them.
We arrived in Milan at 730am and proceeded to go to our Hostel. Mind you I hadn't had sleep in almost 36 hours at this point. When we got to the hostel they told us that we could not go to our rooms till 11 and that we could not sit in the lobby, we were thrown back out into the streets of Milan. We managed to find a McDonalds, after Kirsten tried to sleep on the floor of the subway station, and realized that the McDonalds didn't open till 9am. We sat outside dead tired, starving, and hung over. Kirsten said it was the worst moment of her life, to which I responded that she must have a great life because we were still in Italy watching the Olympics which was pretty freaking awesome. Finally when they opened the doors we rushed in to discover that they didn't start serving food till 10 and that the only morsel we could have was from the coffee bar which had a selection of croissants. we sat down in teh warm store trying not to pass out and buying random food items so that they wouldn't kick us out. We waited around till right before 11 and went back to the Hostel. Upon our arrival we were told that the first receptionist was wrong, our room would not be ready till 2pm. I think the lady saw the look on our faces and told the maid to please rush our rooms, we were in by 12. We slept away the rest of our stay in Milan and awoke at 1am to catch a train back to Turin, or so we thought.
See Elizabeth had failed to notice that there wasn't an earlier train to Turin because the train station didn't even open till 4am. We were told this little tidbit by our cab driver on the way to the station. so we were forced to sit outside the train station in the early morning hours waiting for it to open. Once the station did open our train sitll wasn't scheduled to leave for another hour and a half so we snuck on and slept in the dark of the train. When we arrived in Italy we had to find the bus to get to the Olympic village, the easiest feat yet, and arrived on time to the curling competition at 9am. Curling was pretty awesome, I have to admit I had never watched the sport before so I was quite intrigued. Afterwards, we had 6 hours till our next even. what we thought was plenty of time.
After we got back to the Olympic village we got on the wrong city bus and ended up an hour later stopped in some random neighborhood as the lone occupants of the bus. After another half hour ride we decided to just get off and find our own way around with the map. we preceeded to get lost though thankfully an english speaking italian noticed our plight and pointed us to a bus stop that would get us to where we needed to go. We decided to split up when we got to the train station so that kirsten and fran could order us some lunch at a nearby pizzeria and elizabeth and I could check into the hostel. When Elizbeth and I got the Hostel we found that the room was meant only for two people and therefore there were only two small (smaller than my university dorm room bed) beds in the room meant for the four of us. At that point, a bed was a bed and we really didn't care anymore. We made it back to the local pizzeria that fran and kirsten were supposed to be at but it was closed because the italians were taking their midday break. we found the two at the pub we had frequented two nights before and we gorged ourselves on pizza, jacket potatoes, and burgers, it was our first real meal since the trip had began.
We made it to skiing, though we barely made it to the train (the doors were closed and we had to convince the conductor to let us on) and that night we pushed the beds together to sleep like only people who have been without proper sleep in so long can.
At this point you might wonder what else could go wrong. well nothing did. we had a wonderful italian meal and toured turin the last day. We made it back to Uni by 1030 that night. With everything that went wrong I have to say that I never felt so alive than this weekend. It will forever stand out as one of the best times of my life.
So we started out on Friday evening at 7. We (Kirsten, Elizabeth, Fran, and I) had to take a train to London, a subway to the bus station, a bus to the airport and then sleep in the airport so we could make our 10am flight. We survived the first night on the tile floor and later some semi-comfortable chairs. We arrived in Italy and took a bus into the town center. We didn't have a place to stay for the night so we wondered around the city, looking at the different plazas. We ran into some Italian guys and then American guys who gave us the idea of going to a pub to get out of the cold for a while. When I walked in to the pub I immediately spotted these two girls wearing Texas A&M shirts. We sat down with them to drink and eat and soon discovered that most people in the bar were in the same predictament as we were, without a place to stay. The rest of the night was amazing. We stayed at the pub till 4am making friends with tons of countries. By the end of the night Kirsten and I were friends with nearly everyone in the bar. Finally the time came to leave our new best friends to catch our train to Milan where we had reserved a hostel. We found some americans that were living in Switzerland that were staying in Milan also and rode with them.
We arrived in Milan at 730am and proceeded to go to our Hostel. Mind you I hadn't had sleep in almost 36 hours at this point. When we got to the hostel they told us that we could not go to our rooms till 11 and that we could not sit in the lobby, we were thrown back out into the streets of Milan. We managed to find a McDonalds, after Kirsten tried to sleep on the floor of the subway station, and realized that the McDonalds didn't open till 9am. We sat outside dead tired, starving, and hung over. Kirsten said it was the worst moment of her life, to which I responded that she must have a great life because we were still in Italy watching the Olympics which was pretty freaking awesome. Finally when they opened the doors we rushed in to discover that they didn't start serving food till 10 and that the only morsel we could have was from the coffee bar which had a selection of croissants. we sat down in teh warm store trying not to pass out and buying random food items so that they wouldn't kick us out. We waited around till right before 11 and went back to the Hostel. Upon our arrival we were told that the first receptionist was wrong, our room would not be ready till 2pm. I think the lady saw the look on our faces and told the maid to please rush our rooms, we were in by 12. We slept away the rest of our stay in Milan and awoke at 1am to catch a train back to Turin, or so we thought.
See Elizabeth had failed to notice that there wasn't an earlier train to Turin because the train station didn't even open till 4am. We were told this little tidbit by our cab driver on the way to the station. so we were forced to sit outside the train station in the early morning hours waiting for it to open. Once the station did open our train sitll wasn't scheduled to leave for another hour and a half so we snuck on and slept in the dark of the train. When we arrived in Italy we had to find the bus to get to the Olympic village, the easiest feat yet, and arrived on time to the curling competition at 9am. Curling was pretty awesome, I have to admit I had never watched the sport before so I was quite intrigued. Afterwards, we had 6 hours till our next even. what we thought was plenty of time.
After we got back to the Olympic village we got on the wrong city bus and ended up an hour later stopped in some random neighborhood as the lone occupants of the bus. After another half hour ride we decided to just get off and find our own way around with the map. we preceeded to get lost though thankfully an english speaking italian noticed our plight and pointed us to a bus stop that would get us to where we needed to go. We decided to split up when we got to the train station so that kirsten and fran could order us some lunch at a nearby pizzeria and elizabeth and I could check into the hostel. When Elizbeth and I got the Hostel we found that the room was meant only for two people and therefore there were only two small (smaller than my university dorm room bed) beds in the room meant for the four of us. At that point, a bed was a bed and we really didn't care anymore. We made it back to the local pizzeria that fran and kirsten were supposed to be at but it was closed because the italians were taking their midday break. we found the two at the pub we had frequented two nights before and we gorged ourselves on pizza, jacket potatoes, and burgers, it was our first real meal since the trip had began.
We made it to skiing, though we barely made it to the train (the doors were closed and we had to convince the conductor to let us on) and that night we pushed the beds together to sleep like only people who have been without proper sleep in so long can.
At this point you might wonder what else could go wrong. well nothing did. we had a wonderful italian meal and toured turin the last day. We made it back to Uni by 1030 that night. With everything that went wrong I have to say that I never felt so alive than this weekend. It will forever stand out as one of the best times of my life.
Thursday, February 16
"The past is told by those who win. What matters is what hasn't been"--Jimmy Eat World
I recently saw The Vagina Monologues. Now for those of you out there who think this is an opening for a feminist rant then I'd hate to disappoint but it's not. I loved the play, I thought it was brilliant and hilarious but also had it's stumbles. To further increase the anxiety of listening to women talk about their vaginas for two hours I went with a male friend of mine. He was a good sport about the play though I could tell there were times when he was thoroughly uncomfortable, compounded by the fact that he doesn't have any sisters to help him understand the mystery that is women. So back to the beginning, I was watching the Vagina Monologues and for those who haven't seen the play it consist of 25 women acting different monologues about various women issues. One of the women was speaking and I was struck by her voice and trying to decide if she was American or not. This may sound silly to those who have never studied abroad but there are two major things that can make deciphering an American accent difficult. First of all, since I am constantly surrounded by varying accents my ears have come to accept each voice as its own without immediately trying to decipher the origin of the accent. Secondly, many international schools have American teachers and are attended by American children so it is entirely possible that someone can have an accent that on the surface seems American but in fact is not. So I asked my companion if the girl was American and he responded in the affirmative. He also mentioned that there was another American girl he had noticed at the beginning of the play. I quickly scanned the crowd of women and immediately my eyes fell on her. I can't explain what an American woman looks like unless you have spent a fair time in another country. I had heard English men speak of the beauty of American women but I was unsure on what they meant until I saw her. While the other young women sat non-chalantly in their seats waiting their turn, she sat on the edge of her seat, legs crossed with her arms carefully draped over her legs. She was completely self-possessed, confidant, and elegant. It reminded me of what one friend had said when I asked him why he liked American women. He said "their confidance" was number one. Watching this Amiercan woman I finally understood what my friend meant. Next to her all the English Women looked like children, constantly pulling at their waist coasts, unsure of what lay ahead. I quickly observed my own posture in my chair and wondered if I too held her stateliness. How American am I? That is a question I am trying to answer everyday.
"American girls are weather and noise, playing exchanges for all of the boys."-Counting Crows, American Girls
I recently saw The Vagina Monologues. Now for those of you out there who think this is an opening for a feminist rant then I'd hate to disappoint but it's not. I loved the play, I thought it was brilliant and hilarious but also had it's stumbles. To further increase the anxiety of listening to women talk about their vaginas for two hours I went with a male friend of mine. He was a good sport about the play though I could tell there were times when he was thoroughly uncomfortable, compounded by the fact that he doesn't have any sisters to help him understand the mystery that is women. So back to the beginning, I was watching the Vagina Monologues and for those who haven't seen the play it consist of 25 women acting different monologues about various women issues. One of the women was speaking and I was struck by her voice and trying to decide if she was American or not. This may sound silly to those who have never studied abroad but there are two major things that can make deciphering an American accent difficult. First of all, since I am constantly surrounded by varying accents my ears have come to accept each voice as its own without immediately trying to decipher the origin of the accent. Secondly, many international schools have American teachers and are attended by American children so it is entirely possible that someone can have an accent that on the surface seems American but in fact is not. So I asked my companion if the girl was American and he responded in the affirmative. He also mentioned that there was another American girl he had noticed at the beginning of the play. I quickly scanned the crowd of women and immediately my eyes fell on her. I can't explain what an American woman looks like unless you have spent a fair time in another country. I had heard English men speak of the beauty of American women but I was unsure on what they meant until I saw her. While the other young women sat non-chalantly in their seats waiting their turn, she sat on the edge of her seat, legs crossed with her arms carefully draped over her legs. She was completely self-possessed, confidant, and elegant. It reminded me of what one friend had said when I asked him why he liked American women. He said "their confidance" was number one. Watching this Amiercan woman I finally understood what my friend meant. Next to her all the English Women looked like children, constantly pulling at their waist coasts, unsure of what lay ahead. I quickly observed my own posture in my chair and wondered if I too held her stateliness. How American am I? That is a question I am trying to answer everyday.
"American girls are weather and noise, playing exchanges for all of the boys."-Counting Crows, American Girls
Wednesday, February 15
Jack Johnson- Cocoon. I could listen to this guy all day
based on your smile
im betting all of this might be over soon
but you're bound to win
because if i'm betting against you, i think i'd rather lose
but this is all that i have, so please
take whats left of this heart, and use
please use only what you really need
you know i only have so little, so please
mend your broken heart and leave
i know its not your style
and i can tell by the way that you move its real real soon
but im on your side
and i dont want to be your regret, id rather be your cocoon
but this is all that you have, so please
let me take whats left of your heart, and i will use
i swear ill use only what i need
i know you only have so little, so please
let me mend my broken heart
you said this was all you have
and its all i need
but blah blah blah
because it fell apart
i guess its all you knew
and all i had
but now we have
only confused hearts
i guess all we have
is really all we need
so please
lets take these broken hearts, and use
lets use only what we really need
you know we only have so little, so please
take these broken hearts and leave
based on your smile
im betting all of this might be over soon
but you're bound to win
because if i'm betting against you, i think i'd rather lose
but this is all that i have, so please
take whats left of this heart, and use
please use only what you really need
you know i only have so little, so please
mend your broken heart and leave
i know its not your style
and i can tell by the way that you move its real real soon
but im on your side
and i dont want to be your regret, id rather be your cocoon
but this is all that you have, so please
let me take whats left of your heart, and i will use
i swear ill use only what i need
i know you only have so little, so please
let me mend my broken heart
you said this was all you have
and its all i need
but blah blah blah
because it fell apart
i guess its all you knew
and all i had
but now we have
only confused hearts
i guess all we have
is really all we need
so please
lets take these broken hearts, and use
lets use only what we really need
you know we only have so little, so please
take these broken hearts and leave
Introduction to something, I'm not yet sure what.
“What was love supposed to be like?” She yells out to me through the rain. Her dress is soaked through and I immediately know she has been standing out her for hours. I stare at the shivering face of my fallen angel Maria. I haven’t seen her since the fall. The red and golden leaves drifted down to her as she descended with each lie. Maria, the girl that had given her heart to me at fifteen and taken it back at twenty. I had the sudden urge to give her warmth. I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted to come in but my words were lost.
“What was love supposed to be like?” Her face pleaded with me for an answer.
“What were you waiting for?”
“Did you expect us to be perfect?”
“Were you waiting for me to be perfect?” Her questions are coming too fast and my mind can’t comprehend their meaning. Maria, oh Maria, you tasted like summer and always stopped to dance in the rain. I thought having her in my life made everyday mean something. I wish I could hold you again.
“What was love supposed to be like?” She yells out to me through the rain. Her dress is soaked through and I immediately know she has been standing out her for hours. I stare at the shivering face of my fallen angel Maria. I haven’t seen her since the fall. The red and golden leaves drifted down to her as she descended with each lie. Maria, the girl that had given her heart to me at fifteen and taken it back at twenty. I had the sudden urge to give her warmth. I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted to come in but my words were lost.
“What was love supposed to be like?” Her face pleaded with me for an answer.
“What were you waiting for?”
“Did you expect us to be perfect?”
“Were you waiting for me to be perfect?” Her questions are coming too fast and my mind can’t comprehend their meaning. Maria, oh Maria, you tasted like summer and always stopped to dance in the rain. I thought having her in my life made everyday mean something. I wish I could hold you again.
Tuesday, February 14
Jimmy Eat World, Kill
well you're just across the street
looks a mile to my feet
i want to go to you
funny how i'm nervous still
i've always been the easy kill
i guess i always will
could it be that everything goes around by chance?
or only one way that was always meant to be?
you tell me you always know the perfect thing to say
i know what i should do but i just can't walk away
i can picture your face well
from the bar in my hotel
i wish i'd go to you
i pick up, put down the phone
like your favorite heatmiser song goes
"it's just like being alone"
Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain
I need answers for what all the waiting after means
you tell me you got some nerve but can't face your mistakes
i know what i should do
but i just can't turn away
so go on love
leave while there's still hope for escape
you got to take what you can these days
there's so much ahead, and so much regret
I know what you want to say
I know it but can't help feeling differently
I loved you and I should of said it
but tell me what has it ever meant
I can't help it baby this is who I am
I'm sorry but i can't just go turn off how i feel
you tell me you fill me up but just to watch me break
I know what i should do
but i just can't walk away.
well you're just across the street
looks a mile to my feet
i want to go to you
funny how i'm nervous still
i've always been the easy kill
i guess i always will
could it be that everything goes around by chance?
or only one way that was always meant to be?
you tell me you always know the perfect thing to say
i know what i should do but i just can't walk away
i can picture your face well
from the bar in my hotel
i wish i'd go to you
i pick up, put down the phone
like your favorite heatmiser song goes
"it's just like being alone"
Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain
I need answers for what all the waiting after means
you tell me you got some nerve but can't face your mistakes
i know what i should do
but i just can't turn away
so go on love
leave while there's still hope for escape
you got to take what you can these days
there's so much ahead, and so much regret
I know what you want to say
I know it but can't help feeling differently
I loved you and I should of said it
but tell me what has it ever meant
I can't help it baby this is who I am
I'm sorry but i can't just go turn off how i feel
you tell me you fill me up but just to watch me break
I know what i should do
but i just can't walk away.
Friday, February 10
No post for a couple of days, I'm going to Barcelona. How sweet is my life? It's awesome when a guy hits on you at the club and ask what you're doing this weekend and you say; "Barcelona", next weekend?
"Italy"
next weekend?
"Norway"
after that?
"Inverness (Loch Ness)"
and then?
"London"
so I'm pretty much never going to see you again?
'yeah pretty much'
"Italy"
next weekend?
"Norway"
after that?
"Inverness (Loch Ness)"
and then?
"London"
so I'm pretty much never going to see you again?
'yeah pretty much'
Thursday, February 9
"If it wasn't for the mist we could see your home across the bay," said Gatsby. "You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock."
Daisy put her arm through his abruptly, but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.
.................................................
"I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past."
"Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!"
He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand.
"I'm going to fix everything just the way it was before," he said, nodding determinedly. "She'll see."
He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was...
These excerpts come from F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. As you can see from the quotes the main character Gatsby is in love with a girl he once dated years ago. His life is consumed by the idea of her loving him once again. I understand Gatsby's grief but I also feel sorry for him because of the extent to which he has taken his infatuation. On that note I will leave you part of the ending, when Gatsby realizes Daisy isn't going to be his.
No telephone message arrived, but the butler went without his sleep and waited for it until four o'clock--until long after there was anyone to give it to if it came. I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn't believe it would come, perhaps he no longer cared. If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about..
Daisy put her arm through his abruptly, but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.
.................................................
"I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past."
"Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!"
He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand.
"I'm going to fix everything just the way it was before," he said, nodding determinedly. "She'll see."
He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was...
These excerpts come from F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. As you can see from the quotes the main character Gatsby is in love with a girl he once dated years ago. His life is consumed by the idea of her loving him once again. I understand Gatsby's grief but I also feel sorry for him because of the extent to which he has taken his infatuation. On that note I will leave you part of the ending, when Gatsby realizes Daisy isn't going to be his.
No telephone message arrived, but the butler went without his sleep and waited for it until four o'clock--until long after there was anyone to give it to if it came. I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn't believe it would come, perhaps he no longer cared. If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about..
Wednesday, February 8
Monday, February 6
Sunday, February 5
a melody softly floating through my atmosphere...Death Cab
I was thinking that "we all want something beautiful" and it made me sad that people have given up on what they believe. I wrote a comment about mythical love and afterwards I just felt like a pessimist. I wanted to tell him that I still believe in that perfect person but I don't. I have a list too..and there's only ever been one person to meet that list but the thing about lists is that they don't account for human circumstance. I guess what I'm trying to say...oh so eloquently is...Shit Happens. I can't go back to who I was, to who he was or to who we were. Sometimes I want to reverse my life but with new experience comes a new set of qualities that are desired, a new "list". As Blue Merle said.."years pass and people change, the bluest skies can turn to gray." I like to think that there might be an inner core to everyone that when you meet someone else with the same core that you two can always be together in some way, it eases the pain of thinking my friends now might not be my friends forever...I would like to write more about all the things swirling in my mind but I have to take a shower and then watch.....the SUPER BOWL!! Yes, we convinced an english bar to stay open late for the Super Bowl, sweet.
I was thinking that "we all want something beautiful" and it made me sad that people have given up on what they believe. I wrote a comment about mythical love and afterwards I just felt like a pessimist. I wanted to tell him that I still believe in that perfect person but I don't. I have a list too..and there's only ever been one person to meet that list but the thing about lists is that they don't account for human circumstance. I guess what I'm trying to say...oh so eloquently is...Shit Happens. I can't go back to who I was, to who he was or to who we were. Sometimes I want to reverse my life but with new experience comes a new set of qualities that are desired, a new "list". As Blue Merle said.."years pass and people change, the bluest skies can turn to gray." I like to think that there might be an inner core to everyone that when you meet someone else with the same core that you two can always be together in some way, it eases the pain of thinking my friends now might not be my friends forever...I would like to write more about all the things swirling in my mind but I have to take a shower and then watch.....the SUPER BOWL!! Yes, we convinced an english bar to stay open late for the Super Bowl, sweet.
Saturday, February 4
I hated a whole country yesterday
I am reminded of the incident by the faded mark of a black X on my right hand, the mark of the Sugar House. Last night was...uneventful. I danced a lot with my girls and posed for pictures to remember the night. It was after the we left the club to go to the Chippy that things really started getting interested (a Chippy is a Chip Shop, a place that sells french fries, burgers, pizza, and kebabs). We got the usual, cheesy chips with extra vinegar and as we waited for our order these three drunk english guys realized that some of us were American. They proceeded to ask us if we were from America to which I reponded, no I'm from Canada. My friend Lisa said she was from Mexico and Elizabeth was from Argentina. Our joke seemed to rile the guys more as they them proceeded to harass us about Bush and about being stupid Americans. Of course this is my favorite when loud drunk British people tell me they hate Americans because we're loud and stupid. Then to add insult to injury we were asked to leave by the chippy owners because they didn't want anything to happen. I've been living in England since October and sometimes I just don't want to be a foreigner. I just want to go out, have some fun with my friends, and eat cheesy chips. When I came back to Texas for Christmas break it was such a relief to be able to go about my business without drawing attention that I might in anyway be considered abnormal. Though then a strange thing happened and I felt abnormal in America anyway because I had adapted to Britian. Will I ever have a home again?
I am reminded of the incident by the faded mark of a black X on my right hand, the mark of the Sugar House. Last night was...uneventful. I danced a lot with my girls and posed for pictures to remember the night. It was after the we left the club to go to the Chippy that things really started getting interested (a Chippy is a Chip Shop, a place that sells french fries, burgers, pizza, and kebabs). We got the usual, cheesy chips with extra vinegar and as we waited for our order these three drunk english guys realized that some of us were American. They proceeded to ask us if we were from America to which I reponded, no I'm from Canada. My friend Lisa said she was from Mexico and Elizabeth was from Argentina. Our joke seemed to rile the guys more as they them proceeded to harass us about Bush and about being stupid Americans. Of course this is my favorite when loud drunk British people tell me they hate Americans because we're loud and stupid. Then to add insult to injury we were asked to leave by the chippy owners because they didn't want anything to happen. I've been living in England since October and sometimes I just don't want to be a foreigner. I just want to go out, have some fun with my friends, and eat cheesy chips. When I came back to Texas for Christmas break it was such a relief to be able to go about my business without drawing attention that I might in anyway be considered abnormal. Though then a strange thing happened and I felt abnormal in America anyway because I had adapted to Britian. Will I ever have a home again?
I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed
I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not of this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, --let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
for conversation when we meet again.
oh no she didn't! haha, I love this sonnet for so many reasons. Like I've said before our culture is saturated with the "love sonnet" and that is what makes me like this one so much. Here is a woman that understands herself and is also strong. The title mocks men's idea of women as weak and unreliable. Men fall for women, they take their love and then walk away. Here Edna St. Vincent Millay is saying that she will be the one walking away, "insufficient reason for conversation" is classic. I'm not in women's lib. or anything I just admire people who break out of the mold.
I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not of this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, --let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
for conversation when we meet again.
oh no she didn't! haha, I love this sonnet for so many reasons. Like I've said before our culture is saturated with the "love sonnet" and that is what makes me like this one so much. Here is a woman that understands herself and is also strong. The title mocks men's idea of women as weak and unreliable. Men fall for women, they take their love and then walk away. Here Edna St. Vincent Millay is saying that she will be the one walking away, "insufficient reason for conversation" is classic. I'm not in women's lib. or anything I just admire people who break out of the mold.
Friday, February 3
Today I was going to write about Christina Rosetti. I enjoy her sonnets because as a female writer she immediately takes on the mantel of being the anti-sonnet writer. Sonnets are a way for men to lift their loves beyond their reach. Usually though, the effect is more about showing how good they can write about a mythical woman than a true love that can actually be seen or touched. We read shakespeare because we want to feel that about another person but the poem isn't real and that's what we should keep in mind. Alas, I had a conversation with my boyfriend Michael this before I began writing that changed my mind on what to write.
I've said on my myspace blog that Michael showed me what true love is. I don't mean to discredit those who have come before and their love for me. I don't mean to cheapen their feelings. What Michael has shown me is how I can give him love. My ability to show others my feelings has been broken a long time. I can think of specific events in my life that have most likely led me to always hide my heart. If someone comes to close I try to break away and make them hate me. I show others why they really shouldn't love me. This tactic never worked on Michael. I would do stupid things, say stupid things and he would understand that it wasn't about him at all, it was my own fear that kept pushing him away. Someone immature and insecure would have left me long ago. With his perseverence something strange happened. I came to England for 9 months and even though I'm an ocean away and everyone is telling me that its normal to mess around with other people when you're so far away for so long, I lost all desire. I finally had a real reason to push him away and I didn't want to. Because Michael gets me more than I do. Now we are talking about getting engaged, something that scares the hell out of me (I have a track record). Michael asked why I was scared and I told him it was because i was sure that one day he would wake up and realize that he really didn't love me like he thought he did. He would realize that I'm not perfect. He said he knew I wasn't perfect and he loved me anyway. This is why I don't like sonnets, they are about a perfect woman that doesn't exist. Michael knows who I am and he loves me. And because of that, I love him.
I've said on my myspace blog that Michael showed me what true love is. I don't mean to discredit those who have come before and their love for me. I don't mean to cheapen their feelings. What Michael has shown me is how I can give him love. My ability to show others my feelings has been broken a long time. I can think of specific events in my life that have most likely led me to always hide my heart. If someone comes to close I try to break away and make them hate me. I show others why they really shouldn't love me. This tactic never worked on Michael. I would do stupid things, say stupid things and he would understand that it wasn't about him at all, it was my own fear that kept pushing him away. Someone immature and insecure would have left me long ago. With his perseverence something strange happened. I came to England for 9 months and even though I'm an ocean away and everyone is telling me that its normal to mess around with other people when you're so far away for so long, I lost all desire. I finally had a real reason to push him away and I didn't want to. Because Michael gets me more than I do. Now we are talking about getting engaged, something that scares the hell out of me (I have a track record). Michael asked why I was scared and I told him it was because i was sure that one day he would wake up and realize that he really didn't love me like he thought he did. He would realize that I'm not perfect. He said he knew I wasn't perfect and he loved me anyway. This is why I don't like sonnets, they are about a perfect woman that doesn't exist. Michael knows who I am and he loves me. And because of that, I love him.
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