Venus In Furs

The weather right now is in its absolute prime. Nightly walks have never felt so refreshing! I hope I go on walks every night until I am dead. I would say every night until I’m too old to walk, but even then I think I would make someone wheel me around the block. Getting old terrifies me. I go back and forth between thinking that dying at a relatively young age is better than dying when you’re too old to remember yourself any other way. I suppose I’ll just have to find out what happens. If I could choose how and when I was going to go, then: a) I would be around 75 years old. That way my kids would all be old enough to have their own children, and perhaps I’d have some great-grandkids too. I’d have the satisfaction of knowing that my kids had successful families of their own, and my old mouth would smile just thinking about their successes. They would all be well taken care of and life would be going swimmingly for each of them; b) I would die in my sleep dreaming of stick fences and tall grasses in the wind. Or I’d be dreaming about all the incredible things I got to do during my lifetime. I’d remember lake trips, bike rides, horseback rides, the smell of saddles, eating peppers and hummus, climbing trees, building fires at the cabin, the color of the water in Kauai, the sound of my Dad’s voice when he was singing, all the best books I read, tennis games with Mom, catching tree-frogs, Penelope the chicken and Gato the cat, Gus and Gertie, kayaking on Christmas morning, dance class, and hopefully the sound of my kids laughing; and c) I would die in my huge and deliciously comfortable bed that had more pillows on it than anyone really needed, that had the softest white down comforter, and was placed on the exquisitely large porch off the back of my ranch-house, where I could feel the wind on my cheeks while I slept outside. If you think about it that way, dying isn’t such a bad thing after all, is it? 

To Whom It May Concern: It's All Happening.

There is something to be said for those people that are ambitious, driven, and take their lives and their circumstances and mold everything producing impressive results. I think that this type of person is epitomized when Kerouac decided that the only people for him were the mad ones. These roman candles have lives that explode fabulously across the night sky. They do everything that they've ever wanted to do. Copy-cats. I am taking life into my own hands. Below you will find things that I will do, things that will happen, and changes that will take place. Push has come to shove. And not a moment too late.
A new direction necessitates a change in academics. No more and no longer will I push music away. It's time to embrace my abilities and turn them into those roman candles--they'll become firecrackers to me that can't help but explode. Welcome to my life Music Minor! I'm glad you finally made it.
My career as an essayist needs to take a backseat to my career as a wedding planner. Hello, harried fiancees! I've been waiting for you! My penchant for traveling will be realized without sacrificing $10,000 on a study abroad. Hello Sicilian beachhouse! I'll be seeing you!
My roommates and I will find a delightful house with cheaper rent and better landlords. This house will be close to campus and my room will be big enough for my bed. Hello working fireplaces! You'll never know how much I really love you.
There's a definitive positive energy, almost tangible, that comes from making statements about your life that will happen because you're going to make them happen. It's having those rose-colored glasses, but also the dedication and knowledge that you don't have to take them off. Life can happen exactly as you planned it. Dear important and wonderfully idealistic realizations: Stick Around. I'm Lovin' You!
I will make the most out of every dollar I earn. Saving your money is not lame. It proves I'm not impulsive and have the ability to wait for the things I really want. To my anxiously-anticipated tax refund: Not Even Tempted. My iPod is fine. And changing the songs on it every week because it's only a 4gig doesn't bother me in the slightest.
Diet Coke, darling. You're not going anywhere.
M&M Jar in my Room...we might need to talk.
Exercise, exercise! Everyone can benefit from movin' and shakin'. Therefore, yoga class? You're safe. More than just yoga class? I'm working on it. But to that dumb little machine that pulled an unknown yet highly useful muscle in my leg: you're so out!
I've really enjoyed cooking at home recently. I've decided to make a better and bigger effort towards healthy eating, which is why the M&M jar might need to be ousted. Sorry room visitors! Sorry late-night munchies!
It would be smart to resolve to try harder in school. All right, all right. British Literary History, Part 2- I'll start with you. Your big, scary Midterm is coming up, and rather than scoff at that part of my To-Do list, I will open my books, remember my lectures, and get an A. Just for you, Brit Lit. Just for you.
Dear Wardmembers, I will practice my Hymns. Just because I caught one of you sneering at me when I messed up the Bass line and I got embarassed and felt bad for screwing up your front-row, really-loud singing for the girl seated next to you. In the blue tie. With the brown hair. Jerk. (Just kidding. But seriously. Don't Look at Me.)
Dear Cold Feet, I will warm you up soon. Spring is just around the corner and you can finally wear those flats you wore the other day without seriously regretting your choice after walking outside for two minutes. Dear 48 degree weather: Stop fooling me into thinking you're warm.
Dear Anemia, I will get you under control. I've been trying so much harder this week! Get ready to donate some plasma. I need groceries.
Dear Italy. I will come! Lower your expenses and I'll love you forever.
Dear Rationality, I will do it!

little yellow spider

On Friday afternoon I sat down in English Language class next to a girl with a very obvious swollen lip. I wanted so badly to ask her what happened- bee sting? Allergic reaction? Despite my tendency to be a little nosy in situations like those, I went with my better judgment and did not ask but rather smiled in her direction and got ready for the lecture. Not five minutes later, she asked the teacher if she could make an announcement to the class. She stood up and proceeded to explain to the class exactly what I had been wondering- how she received such a battle wound. I thought I knew what she was going to say: something along the lines of "my roommate and I were having a pillowfight and my lip caught her hand during an intense moment", or even "ultimate frisbee got a little out of hand at Family Home Evening." But No. She told a sordid tale of some karate-chopping grizzly bear that hit her in the face. The story could've stopped there, but No again. She explained that the grizzly bear had been beamed in front of her apartment by a pack of up-to-no-good alien invaders, and she, being the most brave and kindhearted of her apartment, went outside to save the day. It was a heroic effort, but the sheer mass and strength of this black belt bear was too much for her to overpower. She took one massive hit to the lip and was knocked out. She then cautioned everyone to watch out for flying saucers and then took her seat.

I felt really good about that story, especially because the truth is still unknown. Her lip has since returned to normalcy, which is boring. I thought for a split second about hiring someone to dress up in a bear suit and give her a black eye just so I could listen to another story. I still might do it.

You'd Better Recognize

How do you get to a point in your life where you can't accurately describe how you feel? This isn't what you think it is. It is ambiguous. It is sitting on a fence and deciding between passion and ineptitude but remaining nonchalant. It is wanting to be more than you are but lacking the determination to change an acceptable (albeit mediocre) character. Who wouldn't want to capitalize on trading something good for something better? The start of 2008 means 2009 is already here.
My New Year's Resolution is to live. And do I know what that means? Not really. I'd like to think that living, and really, truly living, is finding something you need and actively pursuing it. It is finding joy in the everyday mediocrity, yet yearning for the ability to make tomorrow more excellent. Living is learning to adjust and adapt so that every day contains some element of bliss. It is changing; it is laughing at the mundane. It is sharing highs and lows. It is creating your own definition of happiness. It is seeing the world through rose-colored glasses yet achieving a balance of rationality. It is enjoying the time spent trying to make yourself a better person.
I thoroughly enjoyed 2007 and can't really remember all of the things that have changed. Here's to 2008 and living the better life.