Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Day 2. 11:42

I associate whole raw almonds with ovaries. It's been that way ever since the 5th grade. You know the day when they split up the boys and girl for the sex talk. We had two fifth grade classes in our elementary school with one female and one male teacher. So from our class went down the hall to Mr Grimes' classroom which was covered in Sesame street style puppets while I stayed in my classroom with Mrs. Jones and the rest of the girls.
Looking back, it was much like the chastity talks I've had at least once a year since then. Except this time I knew much less. I only remember Mrs. Jones showing us pads, but she also showed us on an overhead of the human body how you shoved them up the thin little canal between the girl's legs. That concerned me for quite some time. Then Mrs. Jones held up two tiny almonds, on in each hand between her thumb and forefinger that she told us were about the same size and shape as our ovaries. Since then I've always associated the two.
I mean to dig deeper, but it's late. So for now, almonds are like ovaries.

"Try not to hurl in the fitting room."

Seriously? Can it be a coincidence that I get sick after watching much of the first season of house? Actually I think my skirt is to blame. I stayed up all night creating it and on top of my already busy week it pushed me over the edge. I am taking a break from it now and when I've recovered I will tend to putting the finishing touches on this beauty.

These aren't good picture but I will try to get some of the skirt in action when it is completed. I just need to work on the lining and finish the back of the waistband. So, I started feeling sick last night and when I woke up this morning my head felt all big and my ear and sinus regions hurt when I swallow. I woke of at 11am and convalesces until about 4pm when Alyssa called, wanting me to go shopping. I finally convinced myself that some fresh air would be good (and Alyssa promised me a coldbuster from Jamba) and decided to go. I still feel pretty awful, but scored some great flats that are destined to be decorated (pictured to come of course!) and the cutest summer outfit from J.crew. Think rusty orange tailored shorts with white elephants embroidered on them paired with a slouchy grey men's tailored shirt. There is a new store called Aritsia, that is apparently big in Canada and has a photo booth!!

When the stores all started to close we headed out to my car where I whined about having a hard time finding my keys in my purse when I found this note on the windshield:
Did I mention how sick and out of it I was? It was pretty embarrassing, but I also feel lucky. I guess I should pay it forward and not steal the next car I see with keys in the door. I really need to sleep, but I have resolved to write on my blog every day for the next month, so I guess I will see you tomorrow...

Friday, June 12, 2009

Where are we going Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?

Today I started reading "Howl" and other selected poems by Allen Ginsberg. Actually, so far I've only gotten to the selected poems because I feel like Howl needs some context to be really understood. I loved "California Supermarket" and "America" as well as this poem. It feels like it should be read with bongo drums or in a loud expressive voice. Seems fitting, since Ginsberg was part of the Beat Generation.


The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of dissatisfaction.

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
a miracle,
in imagination
till born
in human--

looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
and so must rest
in the arms if love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
a final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.

It also reminds me of a moment I've been thinking about a lot lately. In an interview with my bishop many years ago, he deviated from the usual questions and asked me what one word that would describe the gospel. I chose "love" and I still stand by it.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Chapter 8: Alone (and other current events).

"My darling," she said at last, "are you sure you don't mind being a mouse for the rest of your life?"
"I don't mind at all," I said, "it doesn't matter who you are or what you look like so long as somebody loves you."

-- Roald Dahl, The Witches

I a reading Inkheart right now which prefaces each of the chapters with a quote from a childrens story or fairy tale. I particularly love this one, and all the quotes make me want to read young fiction.

I feel that I am rapidly approaching several major crossroads in my life where I need to make choices that I feel completely unprepared for. And that's my fault. I didn't get immediate of easy answers to my problems and pulled away from my relationship with my Heavenly Father and I know that has only made me more lost. I'm trying to sort it out, but if you get the opportunity, please remind me of the things I should be doing. In a way I'd like to fast forward to a life of "stability", but in my heart I know that things are only going to get harder.

Sunday afternoon my parents got into the first real fight I've ever heard. It honestly scared me. I was about to leave my room and head for the bathroom when I heard my mother raging. My mother is a very patient woman and hardly ever gets mad, but every once and a while she loses control, and this was her out of control voice. The argument was about some remodeling, something relatively insignificant. I stood in my room with the door cracked so I couldn't see them in the kitchen, but i could imagine my dad standing in the doorway nodding sympathetically and saying very little as my mother yelled from the stove where she was stirring pinto beans in a giant silver soup pot for dinner.
I felt bad for my dad who was calmly trying to work things out, but also understand how frustrating reason can be when you just feel like yelling. My mom concluded the conversation by stating how she was hungry, tired, and did't want to talk about it anymore. Then after pausing for a moment my Dad asks what he can do to help and my mom yells, "Just leave me alone! Get away from me!" I imagine her angrily shooing Dad out of the kitchen as the kitchen door slams shut. That part, the part where my mom is yelling is the part that replays over and over in my head in a cliche way that I hate.
I've never heard my parents talk to each other that way. Of course they get frustrated with each other, but they are both pretty laid back and seem to get over it pretty easily. After that I slipped out of the house and spent the whole rest of the day away from the house. It wasn't that I didn't want to hear them fight, but I knew they would act like everything was fine around us and I didn't want to be there.

Things have been volatile between me and my parents lately anyway. It's hard because for the most part we like being together as (semi?) adults, but when they see something that bothers them they feel like they have to reel me in, and i don't take it well.

To end things on a somewhat happy note I'd like to say that I hope I always live by the sea. I love the coastal mystique Newport holds and would love to go back very soon. I also love love love sea lions, Although I will never know why they aren't called "sea bears".

And here I will stand: straddling the line between the real and the ideal.