We did not make ourselves is one thing
I keep singing into my hands
while falling

for just a second

before I have to get up and turn on all the lights in the house, one after the
  other, like opening an Advent calendar

My brain opening
the chemical miracles in my brain
switching on

I can hear

dogs barking
some trees
last stars

You think you'll be missed
it won't last long
I promise


I'm not dead but I am
standing very still
in the back yard
staring at the maple
thirty years ago
a tiny kid waiting on the ground
alone in heaven
in the world
in white sneakers

I'm having a good time humming along to everything I can still remember
  back there

How we're born

Made to look up at everything we didn't make

We didn't
make grass, mosquitos
or breast cancer

We didn't make yellow jackets

or sunlight



I didn't make my brain
but I'm helping
to finish it

Carefully stacking up everything I made next to everything I ruined in broad
  daylight in bright

This morning I killed a fly
and didn't lie down
next to the body
like we're supposed to

We're supposed to

Soon I'm going to wake up


There is only this world and this world

What a relief

over and over.

-Michael Dickman


In the words of Tiny Tim...

Merry Christmas! Wishing you and yours a lovely laughter, family and peace filled holiday.



It's been snowing in Portland.  The snow started on Sunday, while I was at work, and though I was an anxious wreck because of the possibility of being snowed in, I couldn't help but marvel about how beautiful snow truly is.  It blanketed the city with a lovely layer of sparkling white and everything got very quiet and peaceful.  

However, Portland does not handle snow well at all.  The city is essentially in a panic.  No, scratch that, the news media are doing their very best to send the city into a widespread panic.  They're calling this little snowstorm an "Arctic Blast" and advising people to not only stock up on all the essentials, get chains for their cars, and school has been cancelled all week.  Internet, there is not even an inch of snow on the ground, and it's mostly on the grass.  The streets are bare and it's not a problem getting anywhere.  Well, except for out of my apartment complex.  The managers seem to have taken the disaster mode to heart and instead of plowing the driveway and clearing the sidewalks, they are simply closing the driveway out and letting us handle the sidewalks ourselves.  This irritates me. Massively.  The snow/ice on the driveway has melted into a slush which is now so thick that my car cannot make it out.  I'm essentially stuck here unless I want to take the bus everywhere.  Gah!  Snow is not the end of the freaking world!!!!!

Okay. Rant over.  Here is a picture of snow from the University of Idaho campus.  Oh Moscow, how I love you and your ability to handle inclement weather.


baby toes

Anyone who spends any time with me, or watches me interact with children for any amount of time knows that I'm not particularly child friendly.  It's not that I'm kid hater or refuse to spend time with them, it's just that they make me uncomfortable if one is forced to spend more than 30 minutes with them.  Plus kids don't understand sarcasm, and I speak mostly sarcasm.  

I could continue with the litany of why I don't enjoy children, but it's making me feel particularly Grinch-like, and I don't like that.

Much to my mother's disappointment, I have not yet experienced the urge to bring a child into the world.  I spent several hours (approx 150) in the labor and delivery ward during nursing school, and let me tell you, if I ever do become pregnant they'd better come up with a new way to get the baby out.  Seriously. I have no doubt that at some point this desire will grab hold of me, and I will likely respond with a very loud "what the F*$*!?!?!?"  

Anyway, my dear friend, J, had a baby on the 2nd.  She's probably my favorite person to work with, she's very laid back, has a fantastic sense of humor and is really just a wonderful person.  I went to see her and the little baby today and it was wonderful.  Babies are so inherently sweet.  You can't help but want to cuddle them.  And I did.  For almost an hour and a half.  I loved his little teeny toes, and little tiny fingers and his faux-hawk. Mostly I love how babies look like little concerned old men, little frogs and peanuts all wrapped up in one.  Watching her interact with her baby kind of made me understand how wonderful it would be to have one.  

But I do really enjoy my sleep and virtually responsibility free lifestyle.  I guess my point is that, I like knowing that I have that capacity in me.  Sometimes I feel like I let the snark, sarcasm and general pessimistic worldview take me over, and it's nice to know that all it takes is holding a sweet tiny baby to make me melt.


Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with a muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the necks of the public doves,
Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden


oh the guilt...

I don't know what to say, and I don't know how to say it. 

There are such sensitive ethical dilemmas that are an inherent part of nursing that I don't deal with like I should.  Instead of letting my self truly explore and understand how I feel about a certain situation, I tend to shut it out.  I don't let my self think about it, put it from my mind and think my pretty pink and blue thoughts.   This is not unusual, this is how I tend to deal with most emotion.  I usually don't let my self truly feel things until the dam breaks, and then any and all emotions come rushing out at once.

This is how I feel right now.

One of the most ethically complicated patients that I've ever dealt with died last night.  And now I'm feeling every emotion that I've been suppressing since June.  And I'm sitting in a coffee shop.  I just keep replaying the last interaction I had with him over and over in my head.  I think the guilt is going to overwhelm me.


first time for everything

Let's talk about hugging.  Yesterday, a remarkable thing happened.  My roommate, K, and I have been BFFs for close to 14 years, and yesterday was the first time we hugged. 

I know.

I feel I must preface this with the fact that neither of us are particularly touchy people.  In fact, our other roommate, A, frequently tells us that we need to open up with our body language.  Whatever.  I have seen K hug other people, and I certainly hug other people.  But never each other.  Never. Never. Not even when we graduated from high school, had our first heartbreaks (at the same time, mind you...sorry Dave), graduated from college, moved in as roommates.  Never. Sure there are scattered pictures through the years of us with our arms around each other, but that doesn't count as a real hug.  Especially since we tend to make ridiculous faces when the camera is pointed at us.  

I don't even know why we hugged yesterday.  I think maybe this was another step in the ever escalating game of trying to make each other profoundly uncomfortable.  Never played this game? You should try, it's tons of fun.  Especially in public.  Anyway, there we were, hugging, and it dawned on us that it was the very first time.  How sweet.  

It's not that I don't enjoy hugging.  I do.  I love it.  One of my ex-boyfriends gave the best hugs in the entire world.  They were lovely.  My grandpas were also excellent huggers.  I like to hug people.  Well unless you're a stranger, or K.


Year in Review

So, it's only the second day of December, but I feel I am in the mood to review 2008. What a weird year. 
1 Who kisse​d you on new years​?​​
Nobody did.  I spent my New Years at work, and then at a party with a bunch of people from work.

2 Did you have a New Year'​​s Resol​ution​ this year?​​
Most likely.  I don't remember what it was though.

3 Does it snow where​ you live?​​
Yes. But it doesn't last.

4 Do you like hot choco​late?​​
I do.

5 Have you ever been to Times​ Squar​e to watch​ the ball drop?​​
Never. And I don't think I've ever watched the ball drop on tv either.​

1 Who was your Valen​tine?​​
Nobody. Yay.

2 When you were littl​e,​​ did you buy Valen​tine'​​s for the whole​ class​?​​
I did. Except for one year when I decided I would make them all.  I got bored with the project after 5, but still had something like 20 to make.  Sad.

3 Do you care if the groun​dhog sees its shado​w or not?

1 Are you irish​?​​
I am!

2 Do you like corne​d beef and cabba​ge?​​
I like the cabbage.

3 What did you do for St Patri​ck'​​s Day?
Nothing special.

4 Are you happy​ when winte​r is prett​y much over?​​
Yes. Last winter sucked.

5 Do you get tons of candy​ for Easte​r?​​
No. But my mom totally sent me an Easter basket in the mail.


1 Do you like the rain?​​
I tolerate the rain.  

2 Did you play an April​ fool'​​s joke on anyon​e this year?​​
Possibly.  It seems like something I would do.

3 Do you celeb​rate 4/​​20?​​
Not even a little.

4 Do you love the month​ of April​?​​

5 Your birth​day is in April​,​​ isn'​​t it?
It sure isn't. Try February.


1 What is your favor​ite flowe​r?​​

2 Finis​h the phras​e "​​April​ showe​rs…"​​
bring May flowers.

3 Do you celeb​rate May 16th:​​ Natio​nal Pierc​ing Day?
I do not.

4 Is May anyth​ing speci​al to you?
My momma and grandpa celebrate their birthdays this month.  Oh and Ren Faire happens, which is always a lot of fun.

1 What year did you gradu​ate from high schoo​l?​​

2 Did you do anyth​ing fun durin​g this month​?​​
I did. General shennanigans were had.

3 Have a favor​ite baseb​all team?​​
Not really. I like going to games though.

1 What did you do on the 4th of July?​​
I worked, and then forced S. to go watch the fireworks with me.

2 Did you watch​ the firew​orks?​​
I did. They were spectacular.

3 Did you blast​ the A/C all day?
I don't have A/C.

1 What was your favor​ite summe​r memor​y of '08?
Drinking wine with the cows is up there.

2 Did you have a sunbu​rn?​​
No sunburn this year.

3 Did you go to the pool a lot?
Pretty much every day that I didn't work.

1 Are you atten​ding colle​ge/​​schoo​l?​​
No I am not.

2 Do you like fall bette​r than summe​r?​​
No. It means the rain is coming.

3 What happe​ned this month​?​​
I went to Washington D.C.

1 What was your last Hallo​ween costu​me?​​
A girl scout.

2 What is your favor​ite candy​?​​
Peanut m&ms.

3 What was your favor​ite thing​(​​s)​​ about​ this month​?​​
That it was beautiful.

1 Whose​ house​ do you go to for Thank​sgivi​ng?​​
Mike and Paula's in Palouse.

2 What are you thank​ful for?
People, mostly.

3 Do you love stuff​ing?​​
I like my momma's cornbread stuffing, not so big on the other kinds of stuffing.

4 Anyth​ing speci​al in this month​?​​
I got to go home! Yay! Oh, and I saw OCMS.

1 Do you celeb​rate Chris​tmas?​​
I do.

2 Have you ever been kisse​d under​ the mistl​e toe?

3 What do you want this year?​​
I want to go home. But that isn't going to happen. Boo. So I guess I'll settle for a teapot.

4 What do you love most about​ Decem​ber?​​
I love the holidays in general, they're so happy and twinkly.


Wagon Wheel

I love music.  I don't have an ear for it, I'm unable to tell if a song is off pitch or not, whether the beat or rhythm are correct, or if the tone or musicality are correct.  And I'm pretty tone deaf, when singing along with my favorite songs I do not sound good.  (This is why it is a good thing that I did not continue with choir.) I cannot fathom how it is possible to create music, how to compose it, how to comprehend how all of the layers of sound will work together and am very very impressed by people who have this ability.  And a little envious.  Or maybe a lot envious. 

My parents love music too.  There was always music playing at our house.  I realize that this is not unusual, that most people enjoy music and tend to share that love with their children, but I feel maybe my parents shared more than the average parents do.  We didn't have tv when I was growing up, so radio and music played a more important role than in some households.  (Well, music and reading.)  It seems there was always some new album that my parents were playing, and some concert that they were excited to go to.  From my parents I inherited not only my love of folk music, love of the Grateful Dead, the tendency to listen to one song over and over and over again, and the tendency to play "air" instruments.  Oh, and I love to dance to bluegrass.

Old Crow Medicine Show is a band that I learned of through my father.  He loves them. LOVES them.  I can't even count the times that I've come home to find him dancing around the living room pretending to be a member of the band.  The band is probably best described as an old time string band, though the labels of blue grass, Americana,  and alt-country could also be applied.  Whatever they are, they're wonderful.  We listened to them while making pies for Thanksgiving, and Mom and I couldn't resist dancing.  We are terrible dance partners, neither of us knows how to be the man.  

OCMS had a show here in Portland in November.  I bought my dad tickets for his birthday, so he came to town for three days.  The concert was amazing.  I love going to concerts.  I'm usually so excited to see live music that it doesn't matter who the band is.  But, seriously, go see OCMS.  This was the second show of theirs that I've been to, and I'd go to a hundred more.  They have a good time, they make sure the crowd has a good time, and they play forever.  Plus, they played my favorite song.  If I had to make a list of my top 10 songs in the entire world, this song would totally make it. 

Here it is!   


Happy Birthday

Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.  
-Mark Twain


My first music love was The Beatles. I listened to their music pretty much exclusively for my sophomore and junior years of high school, and being the person that I am, I hated any sort of impersonation or remake of their music that came out. Case in point...I have yet to listen to a single song from the I Am Sam soundtrack. However, I adore Across the Universe. Love love love it.




Mare=Ballerina, Gino Servini, January 1914

From the Peggy Guggenheim collection in Venice.  I fell in love with this painting when I was 17.  It was the one painting that stayed in my mind from all those museums that summer. 


Garrison Keillor.

Where to begin? My roommate, K, and I were sitting on the couch this evening listening to today's "Writer's Almanac" (which we do frequently) and as Mr. Keillor finished, we both were struck with the very same hope: that he never dies.  Or if he should die, that he records as many poems as possible. We understand that this hope is purely selfish in nature, however, we have no doubt that we are not the only two in the world who feel this way.

Listening to the "Writer's Almanac" daily gives people like us some sense of security in knowing that we are not the only ones who continuously seek to fulfill our voracious poetic appetites.  It seems that we live in an age where people have little patience for poetry. People do not generally respond well when I exclaim "CAN I READ YOU THIS POEM?!?!?!?!?!?!"  Most of my (our) friends simply shake their heads in utter disbelief at the depths of our "nerdiness."  

I blame public education for this widespread abhorrence of poetry, and literature in general.  Everyone should have to take AP English, or any English class that is taught by someone who shows a genuine love of the great works of literature and poetry.  Mr. Mac, despite his many faults, oozed a love for and belief in the language arts.  Hill did his best to inspire apathetic teenagers to appreciate the many complexities of the English language.  And yet, despite these wonderful instructors, there were just as many English teachers who frankly didn't care.  Unfortunately these are the instructors who educate those students who are less likely to care about poetry.  Maybe they should force high school students listen to Garrison Keillor read poems.  

Listening to Garrison Keillor is one of the brightest moments of everyday.  I grew up in a NPR friendly household, and equate lazy Saturday afternoons with A Prairie Home Companion.  There is something so lovely in his voice, his cadence and his interpretation of poems.  Fantastic.  So, Internet, I suppose the point of this long and rambling post is to encourage you to subscribe to the "Writer's Almanac." It is a free podcast, and you can take my word that you'll learn something new and interesting every day.

three days!

A song for today!

I love this song. I love this singer. And I love that I'll be in Moscow on Wednesday!


Sharon Olds has been my favorite poet for several years.  I discovered her during my "Intro to Literary Genres" class.  I was a senior English Lit major taking the class with several non-traditional business students, I was bored.  The instructor, thankfully, took pity on me and gave me several alternative and challenging assignments.  One such assignment led me to Sharon Olds.  Specifically her poem "Sex Without Love." It's a beautiful poem that prompted me to buy The Wellspring, and since then every single book of poetry she's ever published.

Today I share one of my favorites.  It can be found in Strike Sparks: Selected Poems 1980-2000.


I did not stand at the altar, I stood
at the foot of the chancel steps, with my beloved,
and the minister stood on the top step
holding the open Bible.  The church
was wood, painted ivory inside, no people--God's
stable perfectly cleaned.  It was night,
spring--outside, a moat of mud,
and inside, from the rafters, flies
fell onto the open Bible, and the minister
tilted it and brushed them off.  We stood
beside each other, crying slightly
with fear and awe.  In truth, we had married
that first night, in bed, but now we stood
in history--what our bodies had said,
mouth to mouth, we now said publicly,
gathered together, death.  We stood 
holding each other by the hand, yet I also
stood as if alone, for a moment,
just before the vow, though taken
years before, took.  It was a vow
of the present and the future, and yet I felt it
to have some touch of the distant past
or the distant past on it, I felt
the wordless, dry, crying ghost of my
parents' marriage there, somewhere
in the echoing space--perhaps one of the
plummeting flies, bouncing slightly
as it hit forsaking all others, then was brushed
away.  I felt as if I had come
to claim a promise--the sweetness I'd inferred
from their sourness, and at the same time that I
had come, congenitally unworthy, to beg.
And yet, I had been working toward this hour
all my life.  And then it was time
to speak--he was offering me, no matter
what, his life.  That is all I had o
do, that evening, to accept the gift
I had longed for--to say I had accepted it,
as if being asked if I breathe. Do I take?
I do. I take as he takes--we have been
practicing this.  Do you bear this pleasure? I do.


Oh Pablo

(I love that a man who looked so curmudgeonly wrote such beautiful love poetry.)


I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I know no other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

-Pablo Neruda


Henson Moments

A song for today, it never fails to bring a smile to my face on these gray November days.


My love of all things Muppets comes, of course, from Sesame Street. I remember attempting to sing along with Big Bird as he sounded out the mysterious word that the alphabet spells. I never could wrap my tongue around it though.

And then there was Fraggle Rock. This, I believe, needs no further explanation when I tell you I still have a Fraggle Rock lunch box and that I was crushed when my mother gave away my Fraggle Rock books.

While in Washington D.C. I went to an amazing Jim Henson exhibit. I don't know if it is still there, but if you have the chance by all means go. Nostalgia for your childhood and a cheery good mood are the sequelae. Enjoy!


Book Report #1

Today's show and tell comes from the novel I just finished reading.  Initially I was attracted to the book, not only because it was a National Book Award finalist, but because the author, Scott Spencer, has been called a novelist who knows the human heart better than any other.  

"...[T]hat little shimmering capsule of time is like listening to cello music in the morning, or watching birds in a flutter of industry building a nest, it simply reminds us that even if God is dead, or never existed in the first place, there is, nevertheless, something tender at the center of creation, some meaning, some purpose and poetry."

A Ship Made of Paper has an engaging plot, is beautifully written and has astonishingly fantastic moments.  However,  despite the decent plot, the success of the story relies on the connection between the reader and the characters, and none of the characters are extremely likable.  The novel tells the story of Daniel, a lawyer who has moved from NYC to his hometown after a violent confrontation with one of his black clients.  He brings his girlfriend and her daughter, Ruby.  Without being able to help himself, he falls in love with the mother of Ruby's best friend, Iris, who is both married and black.  He pursues her relentlessly, despite the possible ramifications of his actions, and despite his fear of black people. The two begin an affair which ruins their, and their loved ones, lives.  As a reader, I found it difficult to relate to their self destruction and found the book a depressingly sad and tense cautionary tale of adultery.  


A New Beginning

My old computer, Fitzwilliam, died. We won't go into the details of his death, let's just say that it involved tequila. So sad. Anyway, my papa came to town this week and we bought a new computer. I've named this one Fitzwilliam the Second. In honor of Fitzwilliam the second, I am hereby going to change the format of this little blog that nobody reads. I am now going to share with the Internet the poems, passages and quotes that speak to me on that particular day.

Today, I share a fantastic poem by Christine Rhein.


I try to tune out the boom! boom! boom!
from the shooting range two miles from my house,
and think of the people who live next door

to the targets, or in the din of London and Berlin
where nightingales now sing fourteen decibels louder
to be heard by mates, quintupling the pressure

in their lungs. I've never heard a nightingale,
but I know noise comes from nausea, and bulls-
eye names the goal for some blurry desire.

Bullseye is a band in Norway playing gung-ho rock and roll,
like the kid down the street whose car speakers rumble
through his closed windows and mine,

drums pummeling our insides.  If I told him I once hiked
among redwoods, heard ghostly calls in the stillness,
branches somewhere in the canopy sky

moaning as they swayed, would he say Cool
or Whatever, the way my sons have mumbled it,
intending that I shouldn't--or maybe should--hear,

all talk target practice, ricochet and sashay, headache 
and heartache, duck and cover.  In a fable, Lion realizes
too late his vulnerability, the tunnel of his ear,

tiny Mosquito zooming in.  Out beyond Pluto, Voyager's
golden disc offers mud pots, thunder, footsteps,
a Brandenburg Concerto and Johnny B. Goode.

Was the very first song a hum or a shout, laughter
or weeping?  When my friend, at forty, praised 
her cochlear implants, she complained about work,

the ringing office phones--How do people concentrate?
I consider her vacations--wind surfing, rock climbing,
marathons--how different now that she hears

each splash and scrape, the huh of heavy exhalation.
I wish I could adorn my ears the way warriors in India did,
with metallic green beetle wings, an iridescent

clacking and tinkling at the Feast of Courage.  Imagine
if we could hear bread rising, dew forming, the budding 
of raspberries, the tear of a cocoon, a minnow's pulse,

our own cells growing, dying.  When my husband
kisses my ear, I love the swoosh, the quiver, his breath
sand driven by wind, my whispered name.


Because I'm a Follower

I think my myspace friends are tired of me filling these out, so I'll post this here:

Are you usually wide awake in the mornings?
Yes. Well, as soon as I'm out of my bed I am.

Has anything disappointed you today?
Not yet.

How old were you when you started swimming on your own?
Um. No idea.

Last time you had butterflies in your stomach?
Oh. A couple days ago.

Are you confident in yourself?
That totally depends. For instance, I'm confident in my ability to swim across a swim pool, I am not confident in my ability to ice skate.

Are you hanging out with anyone tonight?
I don't know.

Are you currently doing laundry?

Did you ever read any of the Babysitters Club books?
Yes. I loved them.

What can't you wait for?
Um. No idea.

Do you have a job?
I do.

Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Does it annoy you when someone says they'll call but never do?
Yes it does.

Who was the last person to make you cry?
Um, it was the Vietnam Vetrans Memorial.

Are you honestly happy with who you are?
I am.

If you're being extremely quiet, what does that mean?
I'm shy, mad, tired or just not feeling like talking.

Are you a patient person?

Are you a light sleeper or heavy sleeper?

Is there any emotion you're trying to avoid right now?
Oh sure.

Do you want someone back in your life?
Not really.

Who gives you the best advice?
Oprah. Ha! Wait, TYRA gives the best advice.

Who's house have you been to other than your own today?
Just mine. It's only 10:30.

Was today better than yesterday?
Yes. I didn't have to get up at 5:30.

What are you doing tomorrow?
I'm meeting my student!

Are your ears peirced?
They are.

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with a T?
Yes. My papa and my grandma, on the cheek.

How did you feel when you woke up today?
Sad that I didn't sleep past 9:00.

How's your heart lately?
Beating. As always.

Are you in a good mood?
I am pretty cheery!

Do you prefer warm or cold weather?
Warm. Not hot. Warm.

Brothers, Sisters?
I'm a sister!

Is there anyone who's a lot like you?
I'm sure there is someone somewhere.

person you talked to on the phone?
My brother?

Is there a guy that knows everything or most everything about you?

How long until your birthday?
5 months?

Do you know anyone named Tyler?
I do.

Does the future make you more nervous or excited?

Have you ever seen someone you knew and purposely avoided seeing them?
Yes. Everybody does that.

Does it matter to you if your boyfriend/girlfriend smokes?
It matters. I will not kiss a smoker.

Are you going anywhere next summer?
No. Maybe? I don't know.

Are you talkative?
I am.

Do you secretly like someone?
Always. But I'm sure it's fairly obvious. I always am that transparent.

Do you announce when you have to pee?
I do.

Who was the last person you cried in front of?
All the strangers at the Vietnam Vetrans Memorial.

Are you good at hiding your feelings?

What were you doing at ten last night?
Sitting on the couch watching the Emmys and drinking a margarita.

What were you doing this morning at 7am?
Sleeping in my bed.

What do you need to be doing right now?
I need to clean my room today.

Is there anything silver near you?
My necklace.

What were you doing an hour ago?
Eating oatmeal and watching Sesame Street.

Who last sent you a myspace message?

Whose bed did you sleep in last night?
My own.

Have you held hands with anyone in the past week? Who?
I hold my patient's hands all the time. I suppose it doesn't count when I'm wearing purple non-latex gloves.

Do you like to cuddle?
Yes, yes I do.

What are your plans for this weekend?
No idea.

Are you someone's best friend?


Cycle 11

Have I mentioned how much I love America’s Next Top Model? Because I love it. LOVE it. LOVE IT. I just watched the first (and second) episode of Cycle 11. It’s the future of fashion. Did you know? Apparently Miss J, Mr Jay and Tyra are no more. Their new names are ridiculously ridiculous. Alpha J, Beta Jay and Tyra-Bot.

I think my favorite thing about this show is how lame it is. Or maybe how serious it thinks it is. Or maybe it’s Tyra’s transparent desire to be just like Oprah. Girl, you are on a whole other level of fierce.

Cycle 11

Have I mentioned how much I love America’s Next Top Model? Because I love it. LOVE it. LOVE IT. I just watched the first (and second) episode of Cycle 11. It’s the future of fashion. Did you know? Apparently Miss J, Mr Jay and Tyra are no more. Their new names are ridiculously ridiculous. Alpha J, Beta Jay and Tyra-Bot.

I think my favorite thing about this show is how lame it is. Or maybe how serious it thinks it is. Or maybe it’s Tyra’s transparent desire to be just like Oprah. Girl, you are on a whole other level of fierce.


Stuck to you.

I love Sundays. Wait...rather I love Sundays when I don't have to work. They're wonderful. Especially when Sunday includes brunch with fun friends. (I suppose brunch with notfun friends is okay too.)

Here are some some random quotes from brunch this morning:

A: You mean things like vodoo or sex?

S: Exactly, vodoo sex.

A: Does that involve cutting the heads off chickens?

S: Exactly, and then pouring the blood all over your body.

B: Eeew, that sounds dirty. And bacteria-ey.

S: Hey don't knock it till you've tried it.

B: Oh I have...that's how I know about the bacteria.


A: Did you just say Bond has a dildo?


B: If you get lonely you can borrow two terrible dogs. They're great with new people.

A: Nude people?

B: No *new * people.

A: Okay, I was wondering how dogs would even know to prefer nude people.

B: Well my house is crazy.


A: And then the dragon blocked him from getting off the bus.

C: What?

A: Oh, I'm just making things up, like "S" style.


I love my friends.

Oh, and it is not love that makes a non-stick frying pan.



I did a Google search of the term “perfect moment” earlier this evening. Among the various hits for wedding and other special occasion photography sites, was one explanation of a perfect moment that I really enjoyed. Here it is:
“A perfect moment is an experience with others when time stands still. It is a time full of the present, when the past is left behind and the future is set aside. It is a special time of focused attention and heightened awareness….All that matters is this moment—the people [you] are with and the conversation [you] are having now.”

Perfect moments don’t come around often. Some people try to make them happen, and one would only assume that they often fail. Perfect moments aren’t made, aren’t forced…they’re not created they seem to just happen.

I’ve only experienced one perfect moment in my life.

I turned 25 last February. I am fortunate enough to have a birthday that routinely falls during President’s Day weekend, and so this year some friends and I decided to get out of the city for the weekend. We went to a tiny little resort town on the Oregon Coast, Manzanita, and spent the day playing on the beach.

At sunset we had finally checked into our hotel, which had a balcony that was literally overlooking the beach, and we opened a bottle of wine. Music was turned on and the four of us sat on the balcony to watch the sunset. It was a perfect moment. A beautiful soul song came on, the four of us simply sat there and watched the sunset and for a moment life was perfect. I couldn’t imagine anything more that I wanted or needed.



Overwhelmingly Under Whelmed

I joined Netflix two weeks ago. I love it. What a great deal for someone who routinely forgets to return movies by the due date and racks up increasingly more expensive late fees. Also, since moving to Portland I’ve not found a video rental store with the same charm as Howard Hughes and thus I’ve been purchasing movies I wish to watch instead. Thumbs up from this girl.
I received my latest bundle of movies in the mail yesterday, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” “Sideways” and “Sicko.” I watched Sicko last night.

I would consider my self to be a fan of Michael Moore. I remember watching Bowling for Columbine as a sophomore in college and the rage and frustration and feeling the film brought out. I’m sure much of that had to do with my context of the subject matter. I was sophomore in high school when Columbine happened and I remember the absolute fear that followed. I remember the bomb threats that were made at my high school; I remember the banner of support we sent to their high school. But mostly I remember my friend’s suicide that happened exactly a week later. It was a tough week to be a high schooler.

I had the same intense feelings after watching Fahrenheit 911. I’m sure everybody did. Liberal or not that film was guaranteed to get a rise out of anybody. I took an Ethics class focused on Propaganda in college and chose that film to center the main project around. I must have viewed that film at least 20 times that semester. And every single time I watched it, I was moved to tears.

I went in to watching “Sicko” with great expectations. I expected to be outraged. I expected to be hopelessly sad. I expected to feel indignation that Moore would attempt to slander a field in which I work. I expected to be horrified. I expected to feel something. I didn’t.

I was under whelmed.

When the film was over, and my roommate and I were discussing our views I was having trouble finding the right words. Inane seemed to fit, but not completely. Banal, maudlin…all words I fear, and words I use often in criticism didn’t fit correctly. Naïve. This film is overwhelmingly naïve.

I’m not really sure where to go from here. Thoughts need to be collected and processed.

On a side note…I’m still having nightmares from seeing “The Dark Knight.”


Welcome back welcome back welcome back

I’ve not updated this blog in approximately nine months. I wish I could say that I was doing something productive during that time, you know changing lives, doing something important, curing cancer or whatnot, I’m afraid I’ve just been too uninspired to write anything even if for a blog which I’m pretty sure that I’m the only person who reads.

I used to love writing. It used to be very easy for me to do. I’d create little stories all of the time. I remember my first attempt to write a novel. I had this five subject notebook, it was turquoise, and it was full of my story of a girl. Her name was Laura, her love’s name was Gilbert and they were the happiest couple in all the world. I was 11. My favorite books at the time were The Little House on the Prairie series and the Anne of Green Gables series…so one can tell where my character’s names came from. I also distinctly remember that one section of the book was devoted to my drawings of the beautiful gowns that Laura surely wore. She wasn’t a princess…I had no patience for princesses who frivoled their lives away being served and petted, she was a smart girl, who read a lot, who was a little stubborn, and she had a big family. Gilbert was a nice boy, they got along well and he worshipped the ground she walked on. I think I even wrote a kissing scene for them. How scandalous. Anyway, I would spend hours writing this story. I thought of it as my life’s work. Ah. To be 11 again.

I loved writing all through Junior High and High School. I took the Creative Writing classes, I was a member of the Literary Magazine, I never complained about writing stories for class like other students. I look back over the various poems and stories and vignettes that I wrote and I marvel that I had the courage to write them. I no longer identify my self as a writer, I identify my self as a reader. I think the more literature I read, and the more able I was to become an adept critic the less confidence I had in my self as a writer. I’m a great reader, I’ll read anything you hand me. I’ve only enforced the 50 page rule on a handful of books that I’ve read (Wicked…a terrible terrible book)

So I guess I’ll just fill out this little meme:

1. If you had the choice to spin around the sun, or walk on the moon, which would you choose and why?: Let’s go with walk on the moon, as I’m not quite certain what spinning around the sun entails.

2. If you could share that experience with one person, who would that be, and why?: I would go for a walk on the moon with, well I don’t know anyone who was willing to go with me.

3. What colour do you think best describes you and why?: I enjoy the color pink a great deal.

4. Do you know what your element is?: Air. I think. Yes, Aquarius is an air sign. I know because I have a book about it. Aquarius is also a fixed sign, which means that though the “air” element adds a spontaneous aspect there is a distinct lack of flexibility due to the fixed quality.

5. Do you know your astrological sign?: Yes. See above. I’m an Aquarius.

6. Do you believe that your dreams are a gateway to your soul?: I sure hope not. I dream about work quite often.

7. What is your most vivid dream?: I dream about work quite often. And it is very vivid.

8. If you could be doing anything right now, what would you be doing and why?: I would really like to be at the beach right now.

9. If you could only choose one element to surround yourself with either a)wind, b)fire, c)earth, or d)water, which would you choose and why?: Water. I feel much more comfortable in water than I do any where else.

10. Would you ever share you heart completely with someone else? If yes, who, if no, why not?: Yes. Who? I don't know. Whoever is the one who shares his heart completely with me too.

11. Who runs circles around your mind?: Usually my patients.

12. If you had to paint a self-portrait would you make it a)realistic, b)abstract, or c)you'd rather die than have to pick up a paint brush? Abstract. I like symbolism. And it would also be easier for me to do.

13. Which do you prefer more and why, a)natural light, b)candle light, c)florescent light, or d)moonlight? I like all but the fluorescent light.

14. Do you believe in karma? Do you even know what karma is?: I do know what karma, and I would say I believe in it to a certain extent.

15. How about fate? Are we all fulfilling a destiny here on earth?: I’m less certain about fate. What about free will?

16. Who is the most thought-provoking person you know, and why?: I know several.

17. Who is the most inspiring and why?: Frank.

18. If you had to spend the rest of your natural life with only one other human being, who would that be and why?: I don’t know. I cannot fathom spending my life with only one person.

19. Which sense could you not live without, and why?: Touch. Because it would be terrible not to feel anything.

20. Have you ever written on a mirror? If so what did you write?: I have. I wrote lots of things on the mirrors in my first ever apartment.

21. Have you ever written or drawn on another person? If so who, and what did you write/draw?: I have. Swim team, we drew all over each other all of the time.

22. What do you wish on?: I don’t wish on much.

23. Tell the person who sent this to you one thing about yourself, however big or small, that you've never told before.: I took this from my old livejournal. I know all my own secrets.

24. Right now is your life, spiraling, or ascending?: I think I’m in a holding pattern.

25. If you could change one thing you did in the last 24 hours, what would it be and why?: I would have not stood in the shower while scrubbing the walls thereby introducing harsh chemicals to my feet and legs.

26. What can someone do to you that would turn you on fully, physical or mental, or both?: Challenge me.

27. Do you prefer sleeping outside beneath the night sky, or your cozy bed indoors?: I think my bed outside would be fantastic. I’d like to try it, however this being Portland…I think I’ll keep it inside.

28. What is the most beautiful thing in the world?: The Sawtooth Mountains.

29. Name one person whose changed your life for the better.: My parents.

30. Name one person whose changed your life for the worse.:

31. If you knew you were going to pass away within the next few days, what would be the last thing you say, and who would you say that to?: It's been a great ride. Grandpa Art...you really summed it up.

32. Do you believe in heaven? If so what do you think it will be like?: Yes. Heavenly.

33. Would you rather a)run through a sunflower field, b)jump inside a waterfall, or c)hike through the woods? Why?: The waterfall sounds the most appealing right now.

34. What is your worst fear in the world? Does it consume you?: Killing someone. It does at times.

35. What is one thing that can make you smile no matter what mood your in?: The Sound of Music.

36. If you could meet anyone, past or present, dead or alive, who would you meet and why?:

37. Have you ever written poetry? Have you shared it?: Yes. Yes.

38. Do you believe experimentation can be a good thing?: Yes.

39. What was the last thing someone said to you?: Do you need anything?

40. What was the last thing you said to them? No.

41. If you had the ability to change one thing about the world, what would it be and why?: I'd make it happier I think.

42. If you could go back in time, where would you go, what would you do, and why?: I always felt that I missed out by missing the 60’s.

43. What is the most bizzare thing you've ever done to yourself?: Um.

44. And finally, what makes you you?: I don't think there is any one definitive thing that makes an individual and individual. It's the interesting combination of things. So it is that interesting combination that makes me me.