hobo

Yesterday's list:

1. felt like a hobo because i snagged like, six, perhaps seven, packets of saltines from L&T...and then at them noisily and messily in my oh-so-sophisticated meeting with intelliworks.

a. the brown of my shoes matched the brown of the table leg exactly, which made me feel a little bad because they were church tables from probably the seventies.

I met a man named Brooks which always weirds me out and I knew he was the presentation guy when I saw him outside my office way before the meeting, because he was dressed well and looked like corporate America.
Shawn O'Neal kept looking over at me quizzically, as if to ask what the heck I was doing there. Old men looked at my curled hair and wanted to ask, "you in the right room, honey?"
I am young. I am too young to wear powersuits and attend meetings and pay attention to them for two hours and twelve minutes. I am 19. They think I do not know anything, although I am the student they are trying to serve and reach and market and sell with this fancy software package. I am young, and I hate corporate America. I hate the overcomplication of absolutely EVERYthing, how the presenters are always magnetic but inaccessible. How people expect to be lied to a little bit.

People are leaving the meeting, but I stay, smacking my brown shoe against the brown of the table leg, to show Shawn I am credible and have a brain.

2. I felt like wonderful because we went to the temple and I needed it, and Macy was there and I loved it. After waiting for something, anything, I read about how there will be the most magnificent music in heaven and lost it--well, losing it in that way that makes you feel so inexplicably found.

3. I felt like wonderful again sitting in a restaurant with delicious food and my four best friends in the whole of the universe and thought over and over again how blessed I am to have found them, how rare it is and how much I've learned from each of them. How I think about that all the time but realize it anew in moments like those. I couldn't stop grinning as we discussed how our husbands will be best friends and we'll all live next door and our kids will play together and perhaps my children and Claire's will learn to play video games at Katie and Kaylie's...

4. I felt grateful for people like Macy Sorensen. I felt grateful to and for Macy Sorensen. Macy who is so giving, so humble and magnificent and ready to learn, so interested in my life and me and LOVING. I was grateful for her tears and her presence and her spirit is always able to speak so deeply to mine.

5. I felt tense, then reassured.

6. I felt content and exhausted and happy.

7. I feel that way now. Waking up happy is on my favorite things in the world list.

clueless

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHAT I REALLY DESPISE AT THIS MOMENT?
WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR WHY I AM WRITING IN ALL CAPS ALL ANGRY LIKE?
WOULD YOU LIKE TO PARTICIPATE IN AN ONSLAUGHT OF POSSIBLY INNACURATE BUT MORE LIKELY REAL OCCURENCES THAT MAY OR MAY NOT TERRIBLY OFFEND YOU?

THIS IS WHO I REALLY DO NOT CARE FOR RIGHT NOW.

males.
yes, you: all of you. you do not understand how to live sometimes. you do not get the natural flow of the way life is supposed to work.
especially in your relations with females.
you are insensitive and selfish sometimes, and don't pick up on the obvious, obvious, obvious. you are rough and falsely intimate when you claim to be gentle and real, and i am sorry that i am making all these sweeping generalizations but they are sometimes true and i am not quite sure how you at times fail miserably to realize this. you only talk about blowing things up or fighting people down or trite things of the like and let me guess your true passion in life is sports? i try to be patient with you, but i know you are brilliant, and you seem to be wasting it on stupid crap that does not matter one lick so let's talk about your that instead of hot girls or cars. sometimes i am sick with you, you make me feel to vomit because you are so clueless and so unaware and seems you do not care about people but only what they can be consumed for, how they can serve your purposes.

so unless you are related to me or your name is jared schultz please do not come near me. i guess also i should mention if your name is jared schultz and you are my boyfriend. probably there are more jared schultzes in the world guilty of these hideous offenses that my jaredschultz is not.

back to all you other males that are wrong-doers: i said do not come near me, and i mean do not come near me at least until i admit my wrongness in faulting all of you for things only a few are guilty of, but for now i am frustrated and you get to hear about it that is all thank you.

apology from an insomniac

i look at this blog and frown, because i don't have time.
warning
hi, it's me again, talking about music education again, again.

i only have time to be a restless insomniac for the prospect of ten days.

my pillow doesn't knock me out like usual, and my stomach is churning. my body is pancaked against the mattress but my head is reeling out the window with no screen to the warm july air that screams freedom...

and now just screams an insurmountable task that i fear i cannot do.

but i can, and am, at three in the morning when i spring from my mattress to gather my pile and perch to scribble, scribble. i get a lot out, feel like i've popped a pinhole in a lead balloon. relief of sorts. time, i have time, i am not tired, i am wandering back upstairs, into my bed and under one sheet, kicking off covers and worries and counting slowly, inhaling deeply.

my stomach is still whirling and head is hurling too quickly to relax. counted sheep sing mary had a little lamb and baaa baa black sheep in four part harmony. I splat ideas in the dark all over lined pages, barely coherent and in big, obnoxious handwriting; I am not wanting to turn on a light and also I am not wanting to lose the light that's just flashed in my mind.

like a blinking circus, they open and close off again, on again, and i have to work fast--no, there is still no room for sleep in this bed.
to-do lists and ideas to try for creativity and originality they've never before seen--i guess i talked about all this stuff enough to actually start caring about it, in the middle of the night. it's such a big deal to me.

people are like, "oh cool, music ed. i hear that's hard to get into."

and i want to be like, "yeah, it's cool, because this is my whole life and i am about to fall off a cliff if i don't get into this program this instant."

"yeah, that's sweet that you sing."
and that's it.

the circus finally relents and i drift off, waking to the giggles of a few of my favorites and runnning in the breathtaking morning. my life is good, i remind myself. it is better than good and i want this more than anything, and they will see that.

i thought about apologizing just now, that this music ed hullabaloo is such a big deal to me.

i will try a different apology, something like sorry if you don't know how wonderful it is or why it's such a big deal to me or if you don't care. sorry, yeah, i apologize.
...and i want this more than anything, you know.

WHINEy.

"I know I'm an emotional person. I get it. But this is getting a little ridiculous, self. You need to cool the jets.

I'm at the end of my rope some days. (By some days I mean these last several in a row.)

I'm tired of being up and down and whipped and whirled, swirled and swished. I'm tired of swimming without deep breaths-just gasps enough to go back under and tread in the torrent. Because I am tired I am impatient. I want to rest.


And somehow I'm too embarassed to post this."


I have no idea why I was too embarassed to post this on March 18th, 2009. This is how I was feeling then, I guess. Maybe I've just grown less cautious, or sommsing.



This is how I'm feeling today:





whiney.
want to know why? when this picture was taken, it was because i was studying for finals and i had to have that fatty book in my lap.
now it is because i have to MAKE A BOOK like that to have in the music education department's lap. called a portfolio. in sixteen days.

i'll be done now. i do apologize.

Optional is an excellent option

"i wish going to the bathroom were optional." -becki

sigh.
i feeeel you.

things i really hate in regard to bathrooms:

+one ply anything
(recently claire and i purchased some very thick, very quilted 2-ply t.p. MAN we are livin large.)

+paper towels that are far too small to accomplish anything (AND ALSO, ONE-PLY)
(when i have to get four or even five of those tree corpses, i turn mean, and wish for the blow dryer contraptions)
-double hate if they are scratchy, which, all over campus, they invariably are. where is my tuition GOING?? we can't even afford some decent bathroom accessories in this joint?

+the stench of public restrooms, particularly the one closest to my office

+the inconvenience of traveling from my office to a semi-decent smelling restroom

+the awkwardness of public restrooms, semi-decent smelling or no

+the people who want to make awkward conversation stall-to-stall
(aren't you busy over there?)

+the lounge area in luxurious bathrooms
(you mean you want to study in a place where people...er, nevermind)

+alright, public restrooms in general

+alright, having to interrupt my daily activities to go to any bathroom at any time. I've waxed far too busy for these kinds of activities. i mean really.

nast.

placemat

new post.

click.

taffy jar, open book, open browser window.
you have voicemail.

mason jar of water.
pink post-it, hello, nathan yeoung, fix the wsr website.
baskets, pencils, bamboo plants with dying tips.
kimi's getting married, you know.
bookmarks, magnets, some girl lapped up the pamphlets of her own accord.
parisian kiss--black light for a mormon dance party, creepers with beer pong
when brycen buried kaylie's car in snow and the boys stayed up all night for fear of what we would do.

cheapskates, styrofoam cups with change in them for copies
copies.
haven't made them in months
and it feels so good to my insides, not churning or steeped in ink
or rather, toner
of seventy million colors
still have the pens
the pad of paper corner-rounded and lined in red
like a kiss of Pantone 187, red lipstick
kiss
real, this time
so real i feel, and my face flushes

yikes!
i can't post that.
click, click, tap
what is that noise

a placemat

i wish i could have a placemat for my life, to know where to set my plates

my Self

efy counselors
will i be one?
hope i'm not married
there's so much life to live before that time
but the salmon pink color reminds me of the flushing face,
my impatience
for no explicable reason
explainable?
is that a word?
i haven't written this way for so long
the obsession with perfection, coherence, and time
no tengo tiempo, amigos
only for taffy and boyfriends and sushi two days close by
taffy and boyfriend every day
clicking, tired eyes
sighs for music education and everything else on my plate
longing for a placemat

to enlighten you,

1. sushi is most wonderful when enjoyed with a sushi expert, who also happens to be ambidextrous and really, really dreamy.
thanks, Boyfriend. sorry my chopstick abilities are severely...severe. dismal. in the most terrible way.
i will practice, then i will be irresistable to you?

2. brothers are most wonderful when they are home from their missions. they are funny when they are still a lil awk around girls. they are excellent at doing disneyworld things. they are suddenly really great at calling you and caring about your life and advice.

3. other brothers are most wonderful when they are confessing your likage of your boyfriend to said boyfriend...and telling Boyfriend that you guys can never break up, coupled with a marriage threat.
bonus: denying all recollection of having made such threats.

4. mothers are most wonderful when they...well, all the time, who am i kidding. they make you feel like a million bajillion bucks for doing the most barely noteworthy tasks. they are excellent at all things womanly, and make you feel like you can semi-do the impossible task of filling their shoes one day. which is awesome.

5. friends are most wonderful when they...be with you.
close runner ups include but are not limited to when they make beautiful music with you, and get terribly, terribly sore with you (for non-legit reasons, so they will remain nameless) and take your pasta salad into the house for you, and go visiting teaching with you.