Quick! The Internet ate my day!

Yeah, today wasn't as productive a day as it could have been...I have a midterm tomorrow evening, so I had planned to study for the better part of the morning and early afternoon, but...you know how me and studying are.  (Hint: not friends.)  So I spent the morning writing blog posts for later, changing my desktop background to one with a direwolf on it, changing my chrome theme to one that matched the direwolf, and pretending I had important emails to answer.  Then I studied for about two hours.  Wuph.

In the afternoon, I took Annabelle to swimming class.  We have a little kiddie pool that we put out on the porch on nice days, and Annabelle really loves it, so I figured swim class at Birchwood would be like the pinnacle of existence for her.  And she did really like bouncing in the water and immediately after her class was over, she wanted to be the teacher (this is a habit of hers; she's a bit of a control freak for one so young) but she was way more scared of water than I remember being at her age.  I guess I probably was, though, because most of the kids in that class were.  And when I think about it, it's completely normal.  I mean, I'm still scared of water, just more rationally.  I have water-in-the-ear problems when I go swimming now, and drowning is one of my biggest fears, and sharks aren't my favorite.  How much more would a little kid be scared of water?  They have no reason to trust it; they haven't been in water long enough to know that they float, and no matter how much we tell them we're going to hold them up and make sure they don't get stuck underwater, why should they believe us?  For all they know, we might not be strong enough to fight the water.

Anyway, Annabelle was not too keen about kicking or scooping or...anything but bouncing and bossing me around, really.  I hope she grows out of that.  She likely will, I think, it just makes me sad to think that she might not.  I loved summers when I was a kid specifically because I could swim in the pool.

So after swim class, we came home and had dinner, and then my mom, Annabelle, and I went to Kohl's to return some of the stuff we got on Sunday and use our Kohl's cash to buy more things!  Yay consumerism!  Then I cleaned my room and my mom and I watched Much Ado About Nothing.

That was Tuesday.  I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought...though I still have a ton of studying to do.

<3 spadeALLcross

And I say way-hey-hey it's just an ordinary day...

    This is odd what I'm doing right now.  It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. 

    You see, it's really February 16th in 2009.  I don't know if I even write in this blog anymore.  I mean, in 2012.  In May.  All I know is that, if my life continues on the path it's on now, I should have just finished my senior year at Calvin College, hopefully with a graduation.  But that's up in the air.  And, honestly, I don't care too much.  If I have to go back for another year, so be it.

    The following is a time capsule of my life thus far.

Name: Mary

Nick Names: Mamma Bird, Teragram, Heelz, Marizzle, Roomizzle...

Age: 19 1/6

Current Favorite's Playlist Includes:

Supermassive Black Hole

City of Delusion

The Winner Takes it All

You Know I Will

Ordinary Day

Wolf & Raven

We Don't Need Another Hero

WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? I want to be reading Brave New World.  That's what I'm going to read in my oodles of free time...Other than that, I'm reading Plato's Republic, and "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight."  In fact, I'm supposed to be reading that right now, but instead I'm blogging.

WHAT TIME IS IT NOW? 3:56 pm, Eastern Standard Time

WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? I don't use one.  The one that I don't use that I keep in my desk is covered in a black and white tessellation

FAVOURITE BOARD GAME? I haven't played it in a long time, but The Hobbit, or Clue.

FAVOURITE MAGAZINE? I don't really read those.  My Poli-Sci text book looks like a magazine, but I don't read it either.

BABIES? My puppies Star and Fudge.  Oh, I miss dem sooo much.

FAVOURITE SMELL? Ha, Head and Shoulders Citrus Blast.  That answer might look weird in three years.

WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD? That pit of your stomach feeling that hurts a lot and either means longing or regret.

FIRST THING YOU THINK OF IN THE MORNING? Snoooooze, baby.

HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? Usually four or five.

FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? Boy - Liam or Corey or Ewan or Wyatt or Aaron.  Girl - I'm still working on it, but perhaps Ainsley.

FAVOURITE COLOUR? More like a color scheme, and that would be anything with blues and greens and blue greens.

WHAT IS MOST IMPORTANT IN YOUR LIFE? Ideally it is establishing a rhythm and staying true to my goal priorities.  However, if I were to speak truthfully, I would say my boyfriend.

FAVOURITE FOOD! It's sad, but Grilled Cheese from Knollcrest Dining hall always makes my day beautiful.

IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Saxophone.  Again.  In my high school's Wind Symphony.  I miss that so much.

DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST? Only a little.  I'm usually perfectly happy with a mere five over.

SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? If I weren't afraid of throwing it off my bed and suffocating my roommate.  That's entirely too possible at this juncture.  But it would be my Eeyore or Horsey.

WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? It wasn't mine per se, but it was a Toyota Camry.

WHO IS THE PERSON FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO?  My grandfather, my mom's dad.  I don't remember him very well, but I want to get to know him more.  Either that or Alexander Stracken from the first grade.

FAVOURITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK? Bloody Mary.  I obviously don't drink too often.

DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI? Yes.  Is that avoidable?

IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB YOU WANTED WHAT WOULD IT BE? A writer and a mother.  Which is incredibly ironic, because I can't imagine myself with children.  But not having to go into work would be awesome.  Teaching won't be such a bad compromise, I think.

EVER BEEN IN LOVE? I am right now :D

GLASS HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL? Full, my friend.  Always.

FAVOURITE MOVIE? Moulin Rouge, The Dark Knight, The Mission, Stardust, Lord of the Rings, oh my, there are so many.

DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS? Dude, my QWERTY wpm is over 120.  Eat that.

WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? Genevieve.  She's napping.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST AMBITION? I don't know about ambition, but I have a dream to teach English in Germany...maybe.  If this German Minor thing pans out.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST WEAKNESS? I have a hard time believing what people say about me, unless of course it's bad.  I don't know if that's a self-esteem issue, or a selfish thing...

IF YOU COULD BUILD A HOUSE ANYWHERE WHERE WOULD IT BE? Either Ireland or New Zealand.  Would I hope to live in that house all the time once I am out of college?  Only if it were in Ireland and Ben could come with me.  Otherwise it would just be a summer home or something.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING? I just got this awesome shirt that says "How to Break Dance" and it's really comfortable and funny.  So maybe that.  But I also love my Calvin sweats and this black shirt I got at Old Navy.

BEACH, MOUNTAINS OR CITY? Mountains.  Or Beach.  Or City.  Crap.  Okay, right now, if I had to pick, I'd pick Beach, even if it had snow on it.   But in general, I love them all.

TECHNOLOGY OR ART? Art.  Fo shizz.

COMEDY OR HORROR? Depends on the further subcategories.  For instance, I'd never pick Dumb and Dumber over Ghost in the Darkness, but Stranger than Fiction is almost always better than 28 Days Later.

FAVOURITE PHYSICAL FEATURE OF THE OPPOSITE SEX? Probably the shoulders, forearms, and eyes.

FAVOURITE TIME OF DAY? Lunch time on MWF because there's a short little break where I don't have to do homework.  There aren't any real obligations for a whole hour.  Other than that, probably around 5:00.  I just like it.

THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT? Sonata Arctica's "Unia"

WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE TO BE MASSAGED? Upper Back.  Oh, I could use one of those right now.

WHAT'S MOST IMPORTANT, STRONG IN MIND OR STRONG IN BODY? Mind.  If I were trying to be strong in body, I'd be quite the failure.

WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? 9:00 during the week.  Whenever I decide to on the weekends.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE KITCHEN ITEM? Toaster Oven!  I never noticed how much better it is than a toaster until I came to college and had to cook my bagel pizza in the microwave....

WHAT MAKES YOU REALLY ANGRY? Unhealthily stubborn people.

WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SPORTS CAR OR SUV? SUV.  But I don't particularly like either of them.  I'd much rather have a cute compact.  Yes, that's right, Cute.  I'd name him Corey.  Unless she were a Prius.  Then it's either Silas, Sirius, Beowulf, Chaucer, or Ginny.  I know, I know, only one of those is a girl's name...

DO YOU BELIEVE IN AFTERLIFE? Yes I do.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SEASON? Autumn, I'm pretty sure.  But I love Spring too.

IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT
BE? The ability to turn invisible whenever I wanted.  Or the ability to write real good.

DO YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT? I do.  It's "all in" between to spades with crosses in them on the inside of my ankle.

CAN YOU JUGGLE? Only two things.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE DAY? Friday.  It's spectacular.  No obligation to do homework, and open house hours until 1:00!  Yah-heah!

WHICH DO YOU PREFER SUSHI OR HAMBURGER? Sushi, but that doesn't mean much, considering I don't eat red meat.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE SOAP? My Ruby Guava shower gel, but that's not soap.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE MEAL? Grilled Cheese and tomato soup!  Hooray!

IF YOU COULD TAKE A VACATION ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD
WHERE WOULD IT BE? Ireland or Scotland.  Or Germany would work too, I guess.

I wonder how much I've changed...

<3 spadeALLcross

The last week of our lives...

Okay, so maybe that's a bit dramatic.  But this does feel like a momentous week for me.  Why?

Harry Potter 7.2 comes out on Friday.  And then, besides the enigmatic pottermore, there will be nothing new that is Harry for the rest of my forseeable life.  Some people reading this are rolling their eyes: Mary, it's just a book series.  There are hundreds of thousands of millions.  Just pick up a new one.  And to those people, I say, I have.  No, my life is not ending, and books are not ruined for me forever (thank God...as they are my livelihood at this point).  But this is like...a symbol.  My childhood is over.

I'm 21.  I guess I should have seen this coming.

But when I went to the 4th of July carnival in my town this year and rode all the rides I wanted to in under an hour...or when I went with my best friend to Great America last year and took a nap in the parking lot...or when I bought a friggin' mutual fund...it became more real than it was when I blew out those 18 candles or recovered from my first hangover or had to start going to the grocery store by myself.  Adulthood requires new forms of fun, it has its own new challenges, new temptations, new disappointments.  Just when I was getting the hang of the old ones.

And Harry Potter's vanishing into the void of literary and cinematic used-to-be is the most painful and final reminder of all these changes.

Because Harry was my childhood.  I went to see the first movie for my 11th birthday party.  I was seventeen when I read the final book.  I was Harry Potter for Halloween in fourth grade.  I've gone to the midnight showings of every movie since The Prisoner of Azkaban, even though I didn't like the movies until 7.1 came out last November.

So naturally, I'm a little vexed by default.

But I've decided that, instead of mourning a loss, (which is dumb, because I'm not actually losing anything: I mean, I wasn't in the movies, they weren't paying my salary or anything.  In fact, I'm probably gaining a lot of money, since I will be spending less on Harry Potter miscellany) I'm going to celebrate hard and happy and not miss a minute of it.

So, starting tomorrow, I'm doing my four-day countdown of my favorite characters on Facebook, using their Leaky widgets (by Makani) as my profile pictures, their best quotes as my status, and their house colors as my wardrobe.  I'm also listening to my meager supply of Harry-Potter-esque music, which is comprised of Draco and the Malfoys, Harry and the Potters, Hank Green, and Jim Dale from the audiobooks, as well as two versions of one gem.

Tune in tomorrow for pictures and smiles!

<3 spadeALLcross

P.S. Oh, were you wondering if I was just going to ignore the past two months or whatever that I didn't post, and the fact that I didn't even finish my Easter Holiday blogs?  Why yes, yes I was.  Thanks for your concern.

I refuse to stuff stockings.

I am now going to proceed to do none of the things that I promised I would do.
Don't worry; there's still time.

What I want to talk about now is some random Christmas and family stuff.

I love my family.  I love each and every one of the whole lot.  We're spread out around the country, and I love that, because it makes every meet-up a destination-vacation, without even trying.  Getting together to see family is never just an afternoon's worth of an ordeal.  We span days, sometimes weeks, and we always inevitably see too much of each other for our own collective good, but I personally never get sick of anyone.  That's all the old-folks' jobs.

That's another interesting piece of revelation I've recently had about my family.  We're all pretty old, and we've all been old.  Now, I guess I should clarify that when I say, "we" and "old," I mean them in the most general senses: I am not old, nor would I really call most of my family "old," but when we get together, so much of the conversations revolve around "us" being "old" and how none of us can stand it.

My aunts and my mother complain about their faces getting wrinkly, my cousins and I complain about college being harder than high school and how we don't want to become adults.  My uncles and father complain about how they can't hear or see (well, no, they complain that everyone talks so quietly and writes so small) and my sisters complain that their children are growing up.

My question is this: is there ever a moment after our seventh birthdays when we're content to be swept along in the progression of time?  Holding on to our childhoods, fearing the discomforts of what's to come...or, like when we're kids, wishing we were older, with big-kid privileges?

Or, better question: is there a way that a person can just learn to be happy where they are, knowing that they aren't going anywhere faster than sixty-seconds in a minute, and that's how it's always going to be?  I feel like, after the hustle to get to college and the scramble to feel like an adult, I've reached a point where I'm getting sick of looking ahead, and bored of watching my back.  I know there were high times and hard times in the past, and I know there are more of both to come.  I don't think dwelling on either of those eras of my life is very productive for the moment in which I am actually living.

I firmly believe I'm only as old as I want to be.  (Of course, you're going to tell me that that's because I'm 21).  My body may deteriorate slowly, and I may not be able to do the things I used to, and I may not enjoy them.  But every phase of life can be full of excitement and...well, life.  Sometimes, I'll see it immediately, and other times you might have to look around a bit.

Insecurity about your age is one of the worst kinds of insecurity, since it is the hardest to even pretend to control.  When you're insecure about your body weight, you can eat healthier or exercise.  When you're insecure about your singing voice, you can take lessons, or lip sync.  When you're insecure because you're too old or too young, you can't change to improve your confidence--you'll only act more foolish if you try--so you end up worrying about it constantly.  Why not work to let it go?

That turned into a rant.  Scwhoops.

But anyway, back to my family and Christmas.  We're not all together this year, which is upsetting, I think, to everyone.  For some of us, this year has been full of pains and fears, and we wish we could have each other to bring us out of them.  For others of us, it's been a really great year, and we want to get together to celebrate.  But for all of us, our desire to be with family this year is not being wholly fulfilled, as we're all celebrating Christmas in our own abodes around the country.

It almost doesn't feel like Christmas because of that.  I'm scared it will be just like any other day.

But I get to see my brothers, my aunts, my uncle, my mom, my niece, my sisters and their families, my grandmother, and her caretaker.  It will be a full room tomorrow, as we gather around the tree, opening presents.

You know, I hate the commercialization of Christmas, and I refuse to buy meaningless gifts for people just because 'tis the season, but there really is something...strangely magical about sitting together with hoards of family, opening gifts and stockings, and eating eggs and sausage.

I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes.


<3 spadeALLcross

Peter swam across the water, found it on a beach.

Woke up late today, no weird dreams that I recall, worked off and on all day on some stuff for D&D, photoshopped [terribly] a picture for my mom, and visited with the family as they came and went. Patrick was the best man in a wedding today, and he needed our help to get into his three piece suit (complete with cufflinks, suspenders, and those stupid little fancy buttons), so I helped him with that. Then, at nine, we all went to a restaurant/bar in downtown Palatine for Dennis' show. About halfway through, most of the place cleared out, and these three women walked in. They were probably already inebriated from a previous excursion, or else they are just very... exuberant people in general. They put on more of a show than Dennis did. And I got to see Andi Kauth again; haven't seen/heard from her in probably years. It made me miss the old poetry slams, and Writer's Week. I feel like my later high school years were when I had the most energy for life, and writing, and everything. I've mellowed so much in the past three years...it changes day to day whether I like that or not.

Tomorrow is more family time, putting air in my tires, cleaning off a bookcase for me to bring to school, and then going back to Michigan.

<3 spadeALLcross

Wikipedia keeps me from feeling awkward...and facilitates much laughter.

This morning, I woke up from a weird dream that combined my high school teachers, my youth-group retreats, my college friends, and my family camping trips, and decided to look up that paper that Mr. Schaefer had been talking about. I also reread a letter I had written to myself in his class, that I have a feeling he's not going to send me like he promised to.

I also found out what lavaliering is, and that my roommate from Freshman year just experienced it...and I laughed pretty hard, which, in retrospect, was a mean thing to do. I just cannot take greek life seriously. I'm sorry. Everything I read about related to the traditions and practices of sororities and fraternities sounds cult-ish and really silly, and the idea that people live their lives for such traditions and practices seems...pathetic. I understand, and even to some degree envy the greek concepts of community living and lifelong friendship, but only when they're at the ideal, which I'm guessing is not often. My parents both belong(ed?) to greek societies, and a ton of my friends do, and I can't say I've ever heard a horror story, but lavaliering? Seriously? You have turned a piece of jewelry--created to commemorate the relationship between a king and his mistress--into a verb, and that makes you happy?

"The Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity's inaugural lavaliering was held by Charles Stewart Jr., during which he presented his letters to Erika Rae Antisdale, member of the Chi Omega female fraternity. Historians of the American collegiate Greek system have noted this particular lavaliering as a "landmark achievement in modern Greek Life, the reverberations of which shall be evident on college campuses nationwide for generations to come."^[1]"

Yes. Oh my...I feel the reverberations in my very bones. My soul is rocked by your letters, Charles Stewart. I'm glad you and Miss Antisdale had a serious relationship that might have even led to engagement or marriage. I wonder...did they even end up getting married? How many lavalier-ers actually get passed that stage in their relationship? It would be an interesting thing to research...if I cared enough.

Now, my old roommate and her boyfriend, as I recall, are pretty serious, and I would actually be surprised if they didn't get married, so this isn't all that ridiculous to me. However...why go through all those dumb motions? I mean, engagement and even marriage to a certain degree, are social constructs that people structure their emotional lives around, which can be dangerous: Why hasn't my boyfriend proposed to me yet? Maybe he doesn't really love me, maybe he doesn't think we're serious enough, maybe he doesn't feel the gravity of our love for each other the way I do. My wife and I are married; shouldn't we be happy all the time? Shouldn't we always want to be together?

Why create yet another reason to freak out? Why hasn't my boyfriend given me his pin? Why doesn't my girlfriend want to get pearled?

Anyway...that was kind of a high-horse thing, wasn't it? Sorry...

Also, while being nostalgic this morning and going through old Fremd papers, I found a "story" I wrote for my Creative Comp class first semester of senior year. I don't know why, but I enjoyed it, and when I read it, I made a mental note to post it here. So I will.

Yellow Dandielion from Ohio

“But airplanes are beautiful, too,” he called up to me from the ground. “The sun shines off their wings and the pictures on their tails can sometimes be really pretty.”

I hung limply from the bar, concentrating on the next one, just a foot beyond my hands, barely out of reach. “Yeah, I guess,” I said, though I wasn’t really paying attention. I was much more focused on the challenge that stretched out before me.

“So then you like airplanes as much as birds?” he asked, bobbing up and down on his toes. I rolled my eyes: he did this whenever he was excited, and that annoyed me.

“No. I still like birds more,” I said, probably just to disappoint him.

“But Mary,—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the whistle blew, signaling that we had to go back to class. Defeated, I dropped from the monkey bars and shuffled off next to Eugene, who continued a well-worn rant about the superiority of machines and science over art and nature. I rarely paid attention to those anymore. In fact, I had begun to not pay attention to Eugene at all much anymore.

When we got back to the small room, Miss Deligio had us sit in a clump by the whiteboard, where she had written a sentence:

“All stories have characters, actions, and settings."

She asked Ashley to read it aloud, and while she did, I turned to Eugene, who was sitting next to me, like he always did, and said, “That looks like ‘Ch-aracter.’”

Of course, Eugene, being the outspoken nerd that he was, put his hand to his mouth and said loudly, over Ashley’s timid, first-grader voice, “That word looks like ‘Ch-aracter.’”

“Eugene,” Miss Deligio said with a dark look, “please raise your hand when you want to talk, and wait until I call on you.”

He shrugged. “I still agree with you,” he whispered to me. Then, narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Why are you blushing, Mary?”

“Nothing,” I said, hiding my face. I couldn’t help but be embarrassed for him, and for myself.

Most of that year was spent with me feeling embarrassed for Eugene, actually. He was socially awkward (though, at the time, I didn’t know what either of those words meant) and I was one of his only friends.

“It isn’t a flood,” he said. “If it were a flood, the basement would be all wet.”

In retrospect, I suppose it wasn’t a good idea to invite Eugene over to my house: he and my brothers didn’t get along very well.

“It is a flood,” Dennis said with all of his eleven-year-old empathy. “Do you hear those sirens? That means we’re all going to die.”

“We are not going to die!” Eugene said in a frenzy, jumping up and down and flailing his arms everywhere, almost smacking Patrick in the nose. I buried my face in my hands.

“Don’t worry about it, Eugene,” I said quietly. “They’re just trying to scare—”

“You’re not going to die, Mary,” he said, still looking at the prepubescent bullies towering over him. “I promise.”

“Well, whatever, but I’m going to go to higher ground,” Dennis said, walking towards the stairs. “Come on Patrick.” Patrick, sniggering, followed.

Eugene was absent from school a lot. When I’d ask him why, he said it was because he was always tired and him mom didn’t want him to get sick. I kind of resented him for it, because if I told my mom that I was tired and that I didn’t want to get sick, she would have sent me off to school anyway with only a reminder to drink lots of water. When he was gone, though, I was free to spend time with my other friends.

Like Mark, the boy I was going to marry.

Mark and I were meant to be. He collected beanie babies, just like me, and I had a dog, just like him. He liked to play kickball at recess, just like me, and my favorite color was green, just like him. We’d play with K’nex in his basement and share stories about Star Wars on the bus rides to and from school. In the long history of this world, there have never been two people more destined for each other.

Sadly for me, Mark was a rather dense boy, and had his eyes on my best friend, the aforementioned Ashley. I tried not to let it show that I was jealous, but I think I blew my cover when I cried for ten minutes after intercepting a letter Ashley wrote professing her love to Mark. To this day, our friendship is tainted.

With Mark “out of the way” so to speak, Eugene had a new spring in his step. That Eugene had hated Mark had never been much of a secret. Now that I was spending less and less time with my ex-fiancé, Eugene took it upon himself to fill the void with exciting adventures pretending to break the sound barrier on the playground. He came to school more often so that he could draw me pictures of underwater turbines in the sandbox and try to teach me how to make dye out of dandelion petals.

“You need two stones,” he said, diving under the Yellow and Green Thing where thousands of pebbles waited. “You use one big one to collect the dye that you make by rubbing a smaller one against the flower.” He demonstrated for me and showed me the piddly color that resulted from his efforts. It didn’t look to me like it could dye anything, but I didn’t tell him. We sat under that plastic play set during recess for an entire week just making yellow juice that would dry up every day.

But I didn’t complain, because, as much as I try to play off Eugene as the lone nerd in our dynamic-duo, I’ve come to realize that I can’t escape the fact that I had fun. Every ridiculous day he and I spent making purposeless, pus-like nonsense. Every stupid knock-knock joke he told. Every weird game we ever made up and played together. I had fun.

Which is probably why Eugene was taken aback when I stopped paying any attention to him at all. That was when James came.

James was from Texas. He was tall and had a funny accent, and I only have two distinct memories of him.

“What’re you makin’?” he asked me one day when it was too cold for us to go outside for recess. “Looks like fun.”

“It’s a town for Dragons.” Heaven help me, I had just seen Dragonheart and had cried my poor, innocent eyes out. “Do you want to help?”

And in one sentence, James replaced both Mark and Eugene. “Yeah, I do!”

After that, no matter the weather, and even if we were the only ones in the room besides the teacher, James and I stayed inside for recess and played with our paper dragons in their paper school and paper houses. There was a small contingent of students, The Dragon club, that stayed with us sometimes, but he and I were always there.

Eugene stayed most of the time, but after a while, he stopped playing with us and would just sit at a table and watch us from afar. I remember looking over at him and seeing the most malicious look on his face.

Then, just before school let out, James invited most of the class to his birthday party. It was the first (and last) time I went to Chuckie Cheese’s. I remember I had gotten him a figurine of a dragon that lit up and could be attached to a key chain. Eugene was there and had gotten him a book about leaves, but didn’t look to happy about it.

The rest of my first-grade year is fuzzy after that: I can only remember three things that happened.

“Will you marry me, Mary?” was one of them. It was shortly followed by, “I’m moving to Ohio and if you don’t marry me, we’ll probably never see each other ever again.”

Which was followed by our entire class going to our teacher’s wedding over the summer. Eugene wasn’t there. I hadn’t married him. I haven’t seen or heard from him in ten years.

But I hardly think that matters anymore. Ideally, I think we all wish that we could keep all of our friends forever, but reality dictates that we make concessions, choose one thing over the other, even if one or both of those “things” is a person that means a lot to us. Eugene and I were pretty amazing friends, even though, looking back at him, I can’t help but think of him as an outlandish, troubled child. Ten years ago, when asked to list the people I thought had made a huge impact on my life, he wouldn’t have been on it. But I’ve come a long way in that ten years and have forgotten a lot of things, but I haven’t forgotten Eugene. That has to mean something.

asdf

I don't know why that struck a chord with me this morning. But it did.

What else did I do today? I cleaned my dog, dyed my hair (schwoops! the wrong color, but whatever) watched A Knight's Tale which is much funnier now that I have a cursory knowledge of all things Chaucer, watched TNG, watched The Princess and the Frog, which was much more delightful than I had thought it would be, watched The West Wing, and did nothing really productive besides that. The only things that were really on my list were dying my hair and washing Fudge. Got those done at least.

Tomorrow =

Church

Family hang-out time

Minimal packing, but some nonetheless

At this point, I really wish I weren't going back to school on Wednesday. This, too, shall pass. I'm not just not in a good, stable emotional place right now, I guess. Meh, it happens. I'm pretty apathetic about everything else in my life.

And I really can't wait to see some people. I'm just not too excited about leaving the ones I've got.

<3 spadeALLcross

Minimalist effort

Okay, so it's 3:30 in the morning. I don't have the brain power to actually make a real post here. At some point, I plan on telling you all about my new car, Seamus, but, again, I want to wait until I'm not using drool-propelled touch-typing.

Today, I watched Annabelle. She was kind of antsy all day, and when I put her down for a nap (because she was getting all cry-y and that usually comes before the "kerplunk!" that sounds as her already sleeping head hits the pillow) she stayed awake for two hours before doing her little whiny I-threw-my-blanket-on-the-floor-so-you-will-now-come-pick-it-up or come-come-now-I'm-obviously-not-sleeping-get-me-out-of-here cry. Knowing it was not going to stop, I went in there, saw that yes, indeed, her blanket was on the floor. So I gave it to her. Then I told her to go back to sleep. She told me she had poopies, and, thinking that sleeping would be hard if you were covered in your own excrement, I picked her up out of her crib and put her on the changing table, only to find she didn't have poopies. I told her that she shouldn't lie to me, and that I was going to put her back in her crib anyway. She started crying. I left. She didn't stop crying for forty-five minutes. But then she slept for an hour and a half. Ugh. Naptime has never sucked so much.

But the rest of the day was excellent. Well, besides the debauchery with the better business bureau an their jankity answering machine message, and the fact that I tore up the inside of my mouth with all the fried chicken I ate. I take-two-ed the going out with the belowmentioned friend, and it worked this time. I haven't seen in him in months, and haven't spent six straight hours with him in years. It was really great. I love that feeling you get when you rediscover something, like all that money I found a few weeks ago, or the diary I'd kept when I was six or seven (that I now keep in my car to keep track of gas mileage), or the friendship that I thought I'd lost.

Anyway. Excellent day. Ending late, but excellent nonetheless.

And now, a word from our sponsors.

<3 spadeALLcross

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman...

Sad truth no. 1: I have no friends here. I thought I did, but upon further inspection, I realize that I have not connected to anyone beyond my boyfriend and possibly his roommate. That's really my own fault, because once I obtained said boyfriend, I forwent all possibilities of seriousness with my other relationships.

Sad truth no. 2: Operating under the delusion that I did indeed have friends here, I pretended I could afford to neglect somewhat my real friends from home. This includes my family. I have forgotten the power they have, the undeniable fact that they are the only ones who can pull me through anything.

Sad truth no. 3: Sad truths nos. 1 & 2 are really biting me in the butt right now. And I deserve it.

<3 spadeALLcross

You are my Destiny...

Hey! Hier Kommt Alex!

    This is the first entry I've done at night in a long time.

    It was very blustery weather today.

    I got a twitter this week to keep up with my best friend who's in college two states over.

    My boyfriend and I speak German to each other.  My sentences are generally longer than his, and they stay German for longer.

    My English Lit professor handed out scholastic book orders today in class.  Blast from the past, yo.  Why do little kids get to get their books so cheap?

    While reading Chaucer, my friend Jonas (his real name is Luke...) and I broke off into a long discussion about the amazingness of Lord of the Rings.  Evidently, we both fantasized in our youth about building and living in a Hobbit hole.  And evidently neither of us has really given up that dream quite yet.

    I was so excited that ate too many grilled cheeses this week on Grilled Cheese day.  Whoops.

    "The Office" is a rerun this week.  There go the two things I was looking forward to...

    I decided a couple ideals I have about my potential someday children and how I'm going to raise them.  Now I'm kind of tempted to have children.  That is exceptionally selfish of me, I know, that I want to have children just so I can name them and read to them in Middle English.  But so what.  They'll thank me later.

    I think I may want to write young-adult books for a living.  I'd never cut it as an adult writer, and I love the idea of infecting young minds with a love of literature...

    The song from where this entry gets its name is based on a book that involves machinery and colors... Can you figure out what?

<3 spadeALLcross

Childhood is what we spend the rest of our lives recovering from.

I love it so much.

<3 spadeALLcross

What is "Auld Lang Syne" anyway?

    Happy New Year!

    To ring in 2009, which I'm sure will be as good as or better than its predecessor, I decided to change the blog around a bit.  I noticed that last month was the only time of the year when "I wish I had a river I could skate away on" really fit as a title.  Plus, it was starting to get annoying, as anytime I'd post, I'd get the song stuck in my head.   But I think I'll keep it on the playlist.  I'm too nostalgic for my own good, I'm sure.

    Wow.  It just hit me.  2008 is gone.  I kind of miss it.

    A lot happened in my life last year. (CAUTION: Long post to follow)  2008 had the last half of my senior year of high school, which marked a lot of change for me as a person.  I got all my college answers--6 acceptances and one wait-list (from University of Richmond?  o.O)--and started doing visits.  I hated those.  

    

    I visted Calvin first, then Hope, both in February.  I remember that because we had to leave to get to Calvin right after school on Valentine's Day and I was a bit upset about that, as it was my first non-single Valentine's Day.  

    Then we went to Lawrence the weekend before spring break, and I wasn't too happy about that timing either, and my host there was terrible.  She was obsessed with Harry Potter, which, by itself, wouldn't be too bad, but she took it too far, and you know when I say that, it's bad.  

    Then we went to visit my aunt in Rhode Island for spring break so that we could get in Boston University, then Boston College, and finally...not Richmond.  We got half-way there when my dad called with the wait-list result, and then went to Gettysburg instead.  That was really fun, actually.  I don't usually like history-buff stuff, but the whole town is really interesting and, dare I say it, cute.

    Then came the one pro/con list to rule them all.  It was very in depth, complete with a point system and several worksheets worth of an Excel spreadsheet.  I remember Lawrence and Iowa State were right out right away because I'm judgmental.  Then slowly, Boston College was ruled out.  Then Hope.  And then I was stuck for weeks between Boston University and Calvin.  I loved Boston when I visited, and when I was done, and I got my acceptance email while in Gettysburg, I was immediately ready to throw away my list and just go.  But, for whatever reason, I didn't want to drop the idea of Calvin.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but whenever I made a decision for Boston, it almost physically hurt to let go of Calvin.  

    I still wonder what I would be like, how different my life would be now if I had chosen Boston over Calvin.  At this point, though, I'm glad I didn't.  I love Calvin, if not for the Christian Reform mayhem, then just because of the people: the professors, the students...I just love it there.  And I really do like learning from a Christian perspective, and being able to discuss my faith openly with almost anyone I come into contact with.  Being able to mention God in my essays on a whim, if I so choose.  Being able to go to church just by walking in the lobby and asking who's going where and if they have extra space in their car.

    I think one of the things that changed my life so much last year was my P.E. class.  You're laughing right now, I'm sure, but I'm serious.  We were called "feelings gym" by the weight-room classes because a big part of the class was us sitting in a circle and discussing our lives.  We went rock climbing too, which was really fun and I can't wait until the climbing wall goes up in our sports center at school, but the biggest thing Outdoor Adventure II taught me was that before I got to know other people seriously, I had to get to know myself.  Luckily, that class also taught me how to do that, which has helped immensely throughout the inevitable changes of last year.

    Another big thing was...well...I feel silly saying it...but a guy.  My short-lived relationship of last year was actually a big turning point in my life.  The more I think about it, the more I'm glad it turned out the way it did, even if it hurt like a certain Unforgivable Curse at the time.  If it hadn't ended as solidly as it did at the seemingly inconvenient time that it did, I could be a completely different person, and I'm not sure I'd like me.  I learned a lot from that guy, as much from his self as from our interactions.  I should find a way to thank him someday.

    I could probably say a lot more, but there are blog posts for the rest of the year, and I have a shower waiting for me in my bathroom right now, so I'm going to leave the rest, perhaps for another time, or perhaps for naught.  I'll let my silence speak as loud as my words.

2008, you were a good friend, and I'm sure I'll never forget you.  (How could I?  I have more than a dozen t-shirts with catchy phrases about Gradu oh eight ing and such...)

Welcome, 2009.  You've got some big shoes to fill.

<3 spadeALLcross

Be happy for what you have. Hope for what you lack.

    I've decided to embrace fall.  I don't know if you could tell.

    Fall is my favorite season, so I don't know why I didn't start this earlier, except that maybe it hasn't really seemed like fall until now; the leaves have started to turn and fall, I've had to pull out more long-sleeves and layers than before, and I have massive cravings for pumpkin carving and apple cider.  Ah, fall.

    I've had a lot of poetry on my mind lately.  I don't know if you could tell that, too.*

    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the lilies that fester smell far worse First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go now, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky like a wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, when the world is puddle-wonderful the queer old balloonman whistles far and they enter the new world naked, cold, uncertain of all save that they did not come at the dawning, he did not at the left and right across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for l(aleaffalls)oneliness.  And that has made all the difference.  Just to name a few.

    I re-realized this week how much I love poetry.  Poetry that moves and stifles you in one shot.  Poetry that makes you dance undignified on the inside, when you're in a room full of unsuspecting people.  Poetry with lines and thoughts and ideas that stick with you like songs that get stuck in your head, but are far less annoying, as they don't lose potency or gain redundancy over time.  I think poetry and fall are for me one in the same.

Happy October, everyone!

<3 spadeALLcross

*I will love forever and unconditionally the person who knows what I'm referring to here.  Whether or not my love is worth the struggle is up to you.