oh, you romantics

It's not just seeing

or seeing and thinking

but seeing, thinking

and choosing.

Oh you guys.

This can always make me smile.

An Updated Plea to those not "wife and servant", yet.

To the Ladies,

Liberation has given us choice. This freedom bestows upon our sex responsibility to fare well against men bent on disposable pleasure. We are sluts if we fall for cheap charms and instant gratification, yet remain sexy and exciting before the conquest. I argue instead for chastity.

Chastity has become nasty; a word recalling covered ankles, shrouded hair, and lowered eyes. We must rejuvenate the definition by the refusal of unzipping his pants until we can be assured in opening our hearts to warm welcome. These atriums vaulted in athletic muscle and animated with the blood that sets us to panting, must be guarded with the same zealous abandon that guides lovers’ pressing hands. Lips should catch both breath and heart by instinct, instruction, and consideration.

Ladies, we should not settle for take, and take, and take to come, but for share and explore what draws us closer into one. If the purest pleasure is well-shared and trusted, then we should not be ashamed by our standards. Though we are raised to imagine Fate as our handmaiden and pray by conspicuous consumptions, is there not power in discrimination?

I do not mean to suggest growing jealousies and gossip in bushels, but rather there is no great prejudice or shame in mastering the cartography of love without knowing all the land.

There are some that take as men take and own the slander of “Slut” as a designer scarlet S smeared on each breast. To these “Sex and the City” acolytes spinning sexual connections wherever blood boils, I direct some caution. Not for seeking pleasure, but for taking it with men in such an abandon that hanging out and hooking up have given uncommitted men excuse for bad behaviors. There is desire and a primal thumping beat that pulls our blood in desperate territories. Against this tortuous searing, consider a tension sustained and weighted before a full surrender.

The reality is we hold and shelter men in that physical act, while they push and pull away again and again and again. If they wreck us and disappear, we are the ones left with the knowledge we let the wrong one in. We are the so-called Sluts, and they the Playboys.

Thus, it is not bitter prudeness that fuels this address, but deep contemplation while dangling a toe in the abyss of sexual satisfaction and transgression. I see some leap and then fall alone. They are knocked against sharp outcroppings or search blind. I watch my peers pierce the air, tangle, and part, while I look for a stair or glider. Or at least a fellow to lead me off the edge and hold tight as gravity pulls. I do not expect the bond to stick, but wouldn’t falling be so much easier if we knew our partner had some regard for our impact? Some women dive alone and take what they can in flight, but that does not have to guide us all.

So please, consider the reputation of our sex. Steam the glass ceiling with your breath and write your name with a flourish only so long. We are free to be both the sexually adventurous “Sluts” with a capital “S” for sensuality and curiously Chaste discriminators. After all we shouldn't demand anything from men we do not require of ourselves.

FUCK stage 4 cancer.

Summer 09

The Decemberists album The Hazards of Love has been the soundtrack to this summer. With Bon Iver, The Tallest Man on Earth, Good Old War, The Shins, Modest Mouse, and my friends The Fervour all mixed together. Listening to friends play acoustic in the Mt. Joy graveyard.

My two-day 21st birthday in Harrisburg and then The Batdorf with all of my silly friends.... Most of which happen to be guys I've noticed. With the exception of my best girlfriend who's like a sister, I find guys to be easier to hang with in a lot of respects. Girl time is always fine, but fate has just put me around a great group of musical/creative/interesting guys this summer.

The Shins w/ John in B-more.

Seeing Patrick Wolf and Jaguar Love in Philly w/ Lancelot and Olivia. aaaah so good.

Fourth of July/Avalon weekend with Chad and Lancelot.

Back of the Astro-Van.

mushroom adventure/experience

10+ shooting star sightings. :)

Monday MJ's nights with coffee and chainsmoking.

...being described as a "bubbly tough girl"

Winter Harbor/Otisfield/Acadia National Park, Maine

running/biking/transforming.

losing my phone/inappropriate cuddling ;)

........Realizing that I'm at a place in my life that can be enjoyed.

This summer has been a perfect mix of hardwork/solitude/and shenanigans.

As these August days evaporate in my wake I can only smile and laugh at my missteps. I've come such a long way and hope the coming cold air will only solidify and steady these wild hopes of mine that have come back to life. :D

I'm alive again and happy after some time in between and growing. :)

Just finished "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It is beautiful, fantastic, and addicting. Pick it up.

'sleeping lessons'

I am seeing The Shins this friday in Baltimore.
It's so simple and so complicated as I can't help but feel I'm dancing on the shale slivers of possibility :D
I'm just here for the view.

...and some mischief too.

a little deep, a little down

but what's the sun

without the stars 

Get what you need

If this isn't the life you wanted, please put on the grown up pants and realize Jagger may have had one or two things correct.  Some things just are and nothing is really fair across the boards. 

 It's sickeningly naive to believe you will find your footing in the world and love every aspect of your work simply because possibilities and hopes have been sung and whispered to us for such a long time.

Giving up isn't easy, it's rather suffocating actually. You can change paths, but it's not as though you'll start down the new way with the same old feet. There are blisters there you couldn't change from miles of pavement, and gravel, and dirt. They've changed your fingerprints, reactions, and memories. 

Forget your umbrella and unusually cool spring months spit in your face. Then I can tell you that you don't throw a fit.  You don't freak out over your hair falling out ( only in the wee hours, of course) . You shouldn't freak out at all, not when the real world doesn't care. But, you don't quite accept defeat either, you simply walk on knowing your jeans are dragging and that running would only get you wetter faster. 

I don't understand the attitude that everything must always be either great or awful. I can speak on an aspect that makes me feel awful, but that's not the whole of my experience. I am everything at once, with emotion and consciousness giving precedence to immediate factors.

Immediately, right now, I am twitchy, uncomfortable, and adrift. My roommate makes me cringe when she's done no wrong, while I am preoccupied with the situation I've dug for myself through months of getting caught in my own webby nonsense.

I swear I'm a highly functioning mimic. or worse. unsatisfied and insecure.

I watched Vicky Christina Barcelona, and if I can steal some Woody Allen....I only know what I don't want. 

I don't know what I want, or rather, I want a life that seems further and further away from fruition. 

I always believed things would just fall into place if I worked hard and did what I was supposed to do. 

Trying to be happy was one of the worst mistakes of my life. Maybe I should have let them break me completely. It's a shame I woke up one day with the realization of where I was heading, like after going to confirmation classes  with a best friend in middle school only to be scared off when I realized the classes were meant to lead to being a member of the church.

I feel like I'm not able to fully process concepts until I've seen an example or been in the thick of it.

There's no one to model after now and I don't want to be a carbon copy either. 

I've made that damn near impossible. 

I find my contradictions excruciating....I sway between meeting expectations and fantasy, unsure where to plant my feet and how to run from there. 

"You can't always get what you want..."

"caught between all you wish for and all you see"

home in bed

When good things finally come, they're going to be that much sweeter. 

Some things will balance past, present, and future 

Others'll keep life free-wheeling

Until then.... I'm here

Snow in April? Really?

It flurried intermittently all day today and into the evening. In just one day it snowed more than it did last month.....That's fine. 

A.E. Housman- "Alta Quies" 

Good night. Ensured release,

Imperishable peace,

Have these for yours.

While sky and sea and land

And earth's foundations stand

And heaven endures.

When earth's foundations flee,

Nor sky nor land nor sea

At all is found, 

Content you; let them burn

It is not your concern: 

Sleep on, sleep sound. 

If I had a kite.....

If I had a kite, a paper bird, I would be flying it now the way we flew them at Northside overlooking basketball courts and swings. It's gorgeous outside. 

At home too, I remember a rope net of sorts, plastic yellow, strung between the apple trees. 

When Cole wasn't using it, I would drag out the old mauve blanket, climb up to swing in the spring breezes with a book. The best times had a slight chill ,afternoon light ripening, and an atmosphere filled with apple blossoms. 

Pale pink petals would float down to spotty grass. I was curled up in that cocoon strung between warped trunks, yet still elsewhere, tucked in fantasy. 

Do Good

I think I might want to go into the Peace Corps after I graduate in two years. 

Somewhere where they speak Spanish, so I could muddle through. 

Not quite sure....I have no idea where I want to put roots down and I'd like to do some good.  

Not sure. 

We'll see, I guess. 

evocative object

So,we had to pick an evocative object from our lives and write it on an index card today.

I thought of my bike and the trails, 

but there was another something that wouldn't be ignored. 

I couldn't stop thinking about my lost mystic topaz ring .

Synthetic, but That big bauble of a cocktail ring...too big for my fingers. 

I lost it the first night I ever went out at college. 

It slipped off my finger when I tripped and fell

2006, On a college lawn in Muncie.Indiana

early September.

I lost my only real piece of jewelry my mother had bought me at that point.

The silver was hammered and gorgeous.

I was hammered that night and not so hot.

I lost a lot of faith that night. 

Hell, I almost lost a lot more than just my dignity that night. 

I feel like if I just got back that ring I'd be a little more whole.

Fuck. 

Every time. Thinking about that ring makes me embarrassed, mad, and achingly sad. 

He said We could find it later. It had made sense at the time. 

I wonder if anyone found it. It's hard to imagine it not being found

(I hope it was, but I almost hope it's half buried and waiting)

It was gorgeous, and meant(means) a lot to me. 

I had just wanted to go back to my room. Didn't feel well.  That's all....

and I lost my topaz ring. 

.....gah. That's one object I'd like back. If there's anything I regret and would definitely change from Ball State.....it's that night.

I wish I still had that ring, and maybe then everything would have been alright?

No, definitely not, 

but I feel like If I could just hold it in my hand again

 Id look into the cabochon, 

its facets and feel relief maybe absolution. 

I was just a stupid little girl. I've never drank that much again. 

I should have been taken care of. I should have had some sense, but couldn't see past the 'cervezas' 

It was like a premonition for all that came after....

......But i'm good where I am. 

I just don't wear rings often. 

...I lose my breath just looking at that one. 

I don't mean to seem shallow.

There's just a lot wrapped up in that image. 

........and I slept through Lear last night :/ ...

Summer can't come soon enough. 

King Lear

Ian Mckellen in King Lear on PBS tonight at 8. Yup, i'm there. :P

(I needed a change of scenery. Thank you Hoodlebug Trail.)

I want to curl up in the small earthy places of the world. They happen under pine tree hideouts all full of  soft needles. There the warm cushion of silence, singular to evergreens, can soothe all anxieties. I want to get lost in the plastic bagged sandwiches, orange soda, and fanny packs of the past. Crushed mint leaves and rain water in a cup. Tree sap darkening my hands. 

Can't wait for the summer sun. :)

-make your(life)self-

disconnect

I know when to soften myself

 curve a corner

lean peacefully beside another. 

I know how to give people what they want

 to see, to hear, to be

 I'm just not sure how to make them fit with me. 

(with few exceptions)

just wanna sing

  I need tomorrow to come (Friday), not because it's the weekend, but because it means I can sing. I can sing as loud as I want to in my van tomorrow night and I'm pretty excited about that The walls are too thin here, or else my shower would be a perfect performance space. :)
    My voice is nothing special, but I haven't been able to stop singing since my babysitter nursed me on musicals Labyrinth, Gypsy, and Les Mis anyone? :) I feel sorry for my friends, that means my Labyrinth love is not only current, but nostalgic, and thus....it's never going to go away. I should probably apologize to the friends I put through CATS in middle school. :) Bring on the dance sequences and solo stylings.

  

  

I wore a sequined bow-tie and a spangled red belt in elementary school chorus and sang show tunes. I even did a handful of community theatre shows, and had one-step-above-the-chorus parts in our 3 middle school musicals. As a HS senior I came back to the stage and loved it, even when my voice cracked. :P
 

  I just love to sing. I don't necessarily love the stage, but I love to sing. I don't think it can be helped at this point. 

Secret: I've always had the fantasy of singing at an open mic night and playing acoustic guitar....but instruments mystify me and I'm very sure my voice and nerves are best suited for the interior of my AstroVan and my 'lucky' friends. hehe I'm not too shabby on a tambourine though. la la la

Non-Secret: get me in a sing-a-long in the car and quickly turn the radio or switch songs and you'll be sure to catch me unawares. It's on my list of least favorite things. :P

Recommendation: Do not quickly turn the radio or switch songs on me when we're having a sing-a-long. You'll make me blush, if that's not a rare enough event. XD

......maybe if I just hum in the shower i'll get my fix for the night. 

Secret: I do miss it sometimes. 

Oooooh and Neil Gaiman (hero) is going to sign  my ' graveyard book' at the sigma tau delta convention in minneapolis next week!!!!!! I wish I was going along, but I'm sure my fellow STD-ers will do me proud and project some fangirl vibes. :D  ::giggles like a little girl and does a dance:: yayyyy

Two Days before the Vernal Equinox=sunshineeee

life felt like this today.... 

....so sunshiney that  I wished I had a tambourine 

or someone to play guitar while I danced like an idiot :D

Don't say 'cunt and/or pudding' around me

cunt and/or pudding
Besides it's social and gender connotations, 'cunt' is a very harsh sounding word. the 'K' and "nt" are like a slap in the face.
And 'pudding'.....well besides pudding looking like snot, it's not one of my favorite sounding words either. :D

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net