something about you

I've felt lost and disconnected the past couple days. This morning I couldn't find the keys to my apartment. Upon opening my door, I found them still in the lock.

I woke up this morning and could've sworn you were there a minute ago. I had this unshakable feeling you were there last night, cradled next to me, but it must've been a dream. I guess what I've meant to say all along is this: don't think my insecurities are your fault for a second. I alone am to blame for all the irrational fears, for the doubts, for the tears that you so beautifully brush away. Please accept my apologies, because you are nothing but wonderful and sometimes I feel like I don't deserve it.

Don't tear yourself down for my sake. Let me build you up, let me be your foundation. For you I will be strong. For you I will not be afraid anymore. For you I will shed these shreds of doubt that I stupidly cling to; I will cast them aside. I want these shadows that cloud everything to disappear. I'll trust this fact alone: I love you. More than anything. Nothing will change that.

With this new ideology, I take a step out of the door, bringing me closer to you.

all hallow's eve and a sweet new website.

loneliness is just a crime by bookstoregirl

i found a pretty sweet website. i made this.

Lately it's been absolutely beautiful outside, a regular Indian Summer. I realized I hadn't written anything on here lately and felt bad for neglecting my once loved blog.

I'll try and keep it updated as much as possible!

Halloween was this past weekend. I hit up a masquaRAVE with my boyfriend and my friend. I went as Juno :) I was continually reminded of the Office, how everyone was dressed up as the Joker. It's weird how every year there's a few token halloween costumes. I saw a lot of Jokers, Mario Brothers, Sarah Palins, and slutty versions of more conventional costumes. Slutty referee, slutty rabbit, slutty cop, slutty fairy, slutty devil... the list goes on. But I'd have to say the worst was a slutty angel. She was a rather large girl wearing just underwear, a bra, and angel wings, of course. The panties barely covered her rather large backside. It was right on the fence between funny and sad.

new poem of mine.

the creation of words

i.

in the beginning

we had hands, fingertips,

delicate intrinsic tools

which spoke a hidden

and long forgotten sign language

simple in meaning and universally known by

the entire human race

not to say we all were understood

misunderstandings always occur

no matter whether words

or facial expressions

or the slight bending of a thumb

is the medium used

and yet

ii.

evolution requires so much

when the first syllable was uttered

nobody paid attention

and it was forever lost

however, from it spawned

an incredible amount of languages

and with them carried a certain

separation, a loss of

universal communication, a split

between geographical places

the birth of pride,

of true confusion,

of isolation

of homesickness

of war

we banded together with those

we could truly understand

iii.

i might be lost in translation

between one world and the next

falling between the cracks

of vowels and consonants

filling the empty space

becoming a comma in a sentence

or a semi-colon, a period, oh,

to be an exclamation point!

i might never be heard, falling

on deaf earsi might still be stuck

flourishing my arms, in an attempt

to let my words fly past the barriers

this speech creates within this world

iv.

can you hear me yet?

v.

much speculation is made

on what the first word was

but everyone should know,

it wasn't simply a word

it was the only question

our race is determined to answer

man, down on his knees

raised his head towards

the heavens above and begged

"why?"

The History of Love

Love. It's a beautiful thing. I used to be afraid of love. Afraid of being hurt, afraid of hurting someone else. But love is one thing we all experience in one way or another. I'm full to overflowing with it right now, and feel like sprinkling it all over my blog in hopefully a not overly sentimental way.

For today's post I will include a not-so little excerpt from Nicole Krauss' book entitled The History of Love, a beautiful book that I just began reading today. Its insightfulness is just remarkable.

"The first woman may have been Eve, but the first girl will always be Alma. Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted -- wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.

If you remember the first time you saw Alma, you also remember the last. She was shaking her head. Or disappearing across a field. Or through your window. Come back, Alma! you shouted. Come back! Come back!

But she didn't.

And though you were grown up by then, you felt lost as a child. And though your pride was broken, you felt as vast as your love for her. She was gone, and all that was left was the space where you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence.

For a long time, it remained hollow. Years, maybe. And when at last it was filled again, you know that the new love you felt for a woman would have been impossible without Alma. If it weren't for her, there would never have been an empty space, or the need to fill it.

Of course, there are certain cases in which the boy in question refuses to stop shouting at the top of his lungs for Alma. Stages a hunger strike. Pleads. Fills a book with his love. Carries on until she has no choice but to come back. Every time she tries to leave, knowing it's what has to be done, the boy stops her, begging like a fool. And so she always returns, no matter how often she leaves or how far she goes, appearing soundlessly covering his eyes with her hands, spoiling him for anyone who could ever come after her."

Love is a complicated thing, but one thing is for certain, love can be the rise and fall of your chest. It can be held between two hands, or pressed between two lips. Love can be as tangible as the wind, always having an effect on the world around it whether in a small way or in an earth-shattering way. We're all objects tossed about by it, hopelessly clinging to each other in an attempt to fly far on a gust of love.

midnight (the day time of the night)

It seems to me that anything worth doing right

is worth doing in the middle of the night.

That was my Dr. Seuss moment of the day... the daytime of the night. It always appears to me that the best conversations are had at night. I've always been a bit of a night owl, staying up past the time most normal participants of the earth hit the hay. There's a certain magic to this time of night, though. No wonder some older texts call this the "witching hour".

Nothing can beat the coolness of twilight air around you as you stroll along warm pavement. Night time walks have long been a tradition amongst my sisters and I. The best nights are right around this time of summer, when fireflies are still floating through the air. Staying up late just makes most people lose their typical inhibitions. So many things have been revealed to me in late-night chats with friends, things I don't believe I would've heard otherwise.

Don't believe me? Try it. You'll be amazed by the added mystery and excitement just the change of time can bring.

chicago. all things go. (secrets can be fun:)

Last night my boy and I drove/ caught the train to Chicago in order to attend a viral marketing event. I found myself running shoeless in a mob of crazed nerds in Chicago's underground streets in a free t-shirt. Needless to say, it was a pretty awesome night. I love adventures and secrets. Who doesn't?

Here's a secret: you, too, can become an adventurer and explorer of the world.

Borrowing from one of my favorite adventuresses, Keri Smith, here is a list of instructions for your quest:

HOW TO BE AN EXPLORER OF THE WORLD:

1. Always be looking (notice the ground beneath your feet).

2. Consider everything alive & animate.

3. Everything is interesting (take a closer look).

4. Alter your course often.

5. Observe for long durations (and short ones).

6. Notice the stories going on around you.

7. Notice patterns. Make connections.

8. Document your findings (field notes) in a variety of ways.

9. Incorporate indeterminancy.

10. Observe movement.

11. Create a personal diologue with your environment. Talk to it.

12. Trace things back to their origins. (where did that leaf come from?)

13. Use all of the senses in your investigations.

Here's a picture from the event last night, a single snapshot.

Making rain fun.

The roads in this midwestern town in which I reside are full to overflowing. Mother nature just wants to shower us with more love than we can handle.

On the other hand, some of my favorite memories involve taking advantage of such stormy weather. It all began with the house I live in. Enormous glass windows are on both sides of my house, and as we are perched atop a hill, my family and I had front row seats to the light show. We'd all huddle together on our couches, cuddling under blankets while taking in the strange and beautiful shapes that lightning forms on its way to earth. My favorite kind of lightning is the kind that branches through the clouds, seeming to form spider webs in the sky.

Torrential downpours are perfect for running outside, getting a free shower. I did that tonight, my boyfriend and I took an excursion to his backyard, feeling the rain wash over us. We were barefoot and dripping wet, enjoying the rain as only we could.

Another favorite memory of fun times in the rain of mine was on a trampoline in Rochester, MN. My aunt and uncle's sister-in-law has a house out there. During our Fourth of July festivities, it appeared that clouds came to rain on our party. Instead of becoming discouraged and dragging everyone inside, we kids decided to hop around on the trampoline, ATV, and form an impromtu waterslide.

So, basically the moral of these stories is this: don't let the weather get you down, there are plenty of wonderous ways to enjoy the curve balls that mother nature throws our way. Life's not about weathering the storms, it's about learning to get out there and dance in the rain.

happy rainy day, all!

Hoppipolla lyrics - Sigur Ros lyrics

Hoppipolla Video - Sigur Ros Music Videos

Music Videos by VideoCure

I'll include the english translation of what they are singing:

Smiling

Spinning 'round and 'round

Holding hands

The whole world a blur

But you are standing

Soaked

Completely drenched

No rubber boots

Running in us

I want to erupt from a shell

The wind in

And the outdoor smell of your hair

I come in as close as I can

With my nose

Hopping into puddles

Completely drenched

Soaked

With no boots on

And I get a nosebleed

But I always get up

rainy day mission statement

My mission: To find something new to love about the world and the people in it each day. There are enough people focusing on the world's problems, and I love that they can share with everyone their views on the bad in this world. But I'm just looking to brighten up someone's day. I want to make someone smile, make them happy to be alive and a member of this human race. So cheer up! Take a moment and look at the world around you and focus on the little wonders.

It's been raining outside all day. The temperature dropped dramatically between yesterday and today, and it's glorious to see how quickly the weather can change. If life changed as quickly as the weather I'd have a hard time keeping up. Have you ever noticed how when it turns cold after being really warm the concrete stays warm under your bare toes? I took a little barefooted walk today to my mailbox and felt the warmth racing up my legs.

I'm working to embed my favorite rainy day music/music video for you all. It's a song by Sigur Ros called Hoppipolla. It always brings a smile to my face, I hope it does the same for you.