Loves
1. old fashioned #2 pencils - I don't believe there is anything better than writing with a pencil that actually has to be sharpened. There is something about it that just makes me feel more creative.
2. The sound of the fan as I drift off to sleep...
3. A novel which leaves a lasting impression on me, like Light in August or Skinny Legs and All.
4. Anticipation. I don't know if anticipation about an upcoming event or the event itself is better. Yes I do; the payoff is totally better, but the build-up is so wonderful.
5. Using Faulkner words: lugubrious, braggadocio, effluvium, etc.
Hates
1. Monsanto
2. Moving just before Christmas and in the middle of finals - That's right I am tackling 2 large papers, finals, a one-year old, and moving all in one week. Try not to be jealous.
3. People who think that their animals are like their children. Did you give birth to that dog? No you didn't? Then shut up!!
4. Moby Dick - Actually, I just hate Herman Melville in general.
5. The phrase "I know, right!?"
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Dickinson
If you were coming in the fall...
If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.
If certain that when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.
-Emily Dickinson
If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.
If certain that when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.
-Emily Dickinson
response to Dickinson
If you were coming in the spring...
After Emily Dickinson
For Nicolas
If you were leaving in the spring,
I'd clutch each winter's day,
Knowing all warmth would be gone
Once the sun comes out to play.
After this life has run its course
And thoughts of us decay,
My notions will be of you and me,
And the simplicity of each day.
But now, as I recall your face
And how your laugh did sound,
Those thoughts but goad my mind
flouting as they move 'round.
-Lauren Adams
After Emily Dickinson
For Nicolas
If you were leaving in the spring,
I'd clutch each winter's day,
Knowing all warmth would be gone
Once the sun comes out to play.
If you would stay her for a year,
I'd trap the months in drawers,
Hiding with them all my fear of
no one's whispers in my ears.
If for one hundred years
You would be here with me,
I'd grasp each fleeting moment
making it lengthy as could be.I'd trap the months in drawers,
Hiding with them all my fear of
no one's whispers in my ears.
If for one hundred years
You would be here with me,
I'd grasp each fleeting moment
After this life has run its course
And thoughts of us decay,
My notions will be of you and me,
But now, as I recall your face
And how your laugh did sound,
Those thoughts but goad my mind
flouting as they move 'round.
-Lauren Adams
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
nazi
I often have to fight back the urge to be a complete bitch and correct the grammar/usage in my friends' facebook statuses. I'd like to make something like that my status, but I think that'd be equally bitchy, no?
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Christmas/Krismas/X-mas/Scrooge
In years past, I've thoroughly enjoyed Christmas. It began to become very lackluster when my parents separated. Now it seems to have gotten so far away from the original point that I can barely wrap my brain around the idea at all, and that certainly makes it difficult to get in the spirit of wrapping gifts. I am almost to the point of completely boycotting Christmas. I can't just boycott Christmas though; my family would not let me do such a thing. On a side note, I do wonder what effects it would have on a child to grow up not celebrating Christmas for nonreligious reasons.
Something has hit me concerning the holidays lately. And, it is a big something. None of them mean anything anymore. Christmas is all about who has the most lights up, who has the most presents under the tree, whose dinner will taste the best, etc. It doesn't take a very rational mind to see how materialistic things have become. I've realized for a while now that holidays are VERY commercial, but now that I am in a financial crunch that sentiment is ringing true more than ever, and let me be the first to say that it is one big bell ringing in my ears this season.
A skeptic would say that I am only saying these things now because times are hard for me at the moment. That may be true, but after experiencing something so profound dealing with the holidays, I doubt I'll ever look at it the same way again. Christians will say that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, yet there is no sign of this anywhere in their personal lives, aside from that sad nativity scene half-obscured by Frosty and Rudolph.
I've read where some are now calling it "Krismas." This, of course, refers to Kris Kringle, but that seems even more trite than the Jesus side of the story. First of all, that feeds into the commercialism of the holiday. I will admit that many people seem to really enjoy the giving of gifts, and that is great. But, why not a spontaneous gift given at any moment out of love? Why must we go hunt at 4:00 AM on Black Friday for the perfect gift? Not to mention, that the older I get the more creepy ole' Kris becomes. I mean, why is it okay for a fat, bearded, bald man to slide down my chimney to eat my cookies and then leave me a gift? If that isn't a sexual reference then Freud wasn't a psychologist.
Much to my mother's dismay, I recently told her that I am not going to teach Nora, my one-year old, about Santa Clause. She will certainly know of him, but for her he will always be pretend, sort of like Scooby-Doo. This goes for the Easter Bunny and the Great Pumpkin. Why should I lie to my child about such a matter? She will eventually find out the truth, and then she may very likely question why I've lied to her.
Does all of this mean that I am a scrooge? By no means does it mean such a thing. It means that I am a realist. I still want to gather with my family; I'd just prefer the gifts to be a little more minimal. I don't need a lot of stuff, but I do need their love, support, and hugs. I receive those things everyday. But, sure let's celebrate the fact that that happens. I can do that. I realize I'll never fully get away from Christmas, but I don't have to embrace it so fully. I'm not trying to outrun it; I am just going to let it pass me by.
Something has hit me concerning the holidays lately. And, it is a big something. None of them mean anything anymore. Christmas is all about who has the most lights up, who has the most presents under the tree, whose dinner will taste the best, etc. It doesn't take a very rational mind to see how materialistic things have become. I've realized for a while now that holidays are VERY commercial, but now that I am in a financial crunch that sentiment is ringing true more than ever, and let me be the first to say that it is one big bell ringing in my ears this season.
A skeptic would say that I am only saying these things now because times are hard for me at the moment. That may be true, but after experiencing something so profound dealing with the holidays, I doubt I'll ever look at it the same way again. Christians will say that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, yet there is no sign of this anywhere in their personal lives, aside from that sad nativity scene half-obscured by Frosty and Rudolph.
I've read where some are now calling it "Krismas." This, of course, refers to Kris Kringle, but that seems even more trite than the Jesus side of the story. First of all, that feeds into the commercialism of the holiday. I will admit that many people seem to really enjoy the giving of gifts, and that is great. But, why not a spontaneous gift given at any moment out of love? Why must we go hunt at 4:00 AM on Black Friday for the perfect gift? Not to mention, that the older I get the more creepy ole' Kris becomes. I mean, why is it okay for a fat, bearded, bald man to slide down my chimney to eat my cookies and then leave me a gift? If that isn't a sexual reference then Freud wasn't a psychologist.
Much to my mother's dismay, I recently told her that I am not going to teach Nora, my one-year old, about Santa Clause. She will certainly know of him, but for her he will always be pretend, sort of like Scooby-Doo. This goes for the Easter Bunny and the Great Pumpkin. Why should I lie to my child about such a matter? She will eventually find out the truth, and then she may very likely question why I've lied to her.
Does all of this mean that I am a scrooge? By no means does it mean such a thing. It means that I am a realist. I still want to gather with my family; I'd just prefer the gifts to be a little more minimal. I don't need a lot of stuff, but I do need their love, support, and hugs. I receive those things everyday. But, sure let's celebrate the fact that that happens. I can do that. I realize I'll never fully get away from Christmas, but I don't have to embrace it so fully. I'm not trying to outrun it; I am just going to let it pass me by.
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