Tuesday, October 31, 2006

happy halloween indeed

Walking to the ASB, my eyes caught sight of a black, cloaked giant walking some distance from me. He stood about 8 feet tall, head bouncing along as he walked. Next to him was a 20some guy with a camcorder, recording every motion and the reactions from the fellow campus-walkers to this large fellow. I started giggling, smiling at people with whom I would have usually avoided eye-contact. Moving at a very slow, deliberate pace he made his way towards the library. People walking in the opposite direction would look up puzzled, while thinking some trivial thought about their boyfriend or engineering homework. Squirming they would head the opposite direction or maybe return the bow from the cloaked-being with a clumsy, confused bow. Thumping he walked down the stretch from the JFSB to the HBLL with me following, giggling all the way on my simple errand.

Monday, October 30, 2006

jumble

Vibrating phone in my backpack. "Please don't let it be my mom, please don't let it be my mom." We'd already had an unpleasant phone call about how unappreciative and my inadequacies, all covered by 7:45am. But it's 8:34am now, and it's not my mother ringing in. I sneakily and guiltily pull the phone to my ear. The office is dead, like usual.

"Hello..." I say hastily.
"Hey, were you asleep?"
"No, I'm at work."
"Oh... I'm calling because I wanted to let you know you were right."
"Huh...?"
"I finally realized it, but you are so right about it all. I may have an entire family that hates me, but I'm so glad I know."

I've been thinking about him lately. Just when he appears in photos or recently sent text messages or Hillery sees him at Pita Pit.

"What are you talking about?"
"I just wanted to let you know you were right about the whole 15 year old situation."

He called me quite a few Saturdays back telling me he had no plans, and asked me what I was doing. I was dating someone at the time, but I love and miss this kid and like usual I made a spot for him so I invited him to a family ward activity. Following square dancing and potluck food, he explained a saga that had taken new direction since the summer as I loaded my car with laundry. It had become a situation entangled in religion, inspiration, and trust. He told me the story as we sat on opposite ends of my kitchen table. I listened to him, but all the while tension formed as I felt he had been manipulated and brain-washed. My heart was beating, my jaw dropping, as I tried to think over this very complicated issue, rooted in an idea backed by people he loves and respects who had advised him quite differently than I had or would. I sat the whole time tense as I waited for a moment to explain. Honking repeatedly, a car indicated its desire to exit the one-way driveway to my parking lot. He ran down the stairs to move his car, me following as the conversation was cut to a mere 30 seconds. With little closure and an anxious driver ready to exit, he shouted, "trust me," and jumped into his car.

I didn't speak with him for over a month, by that point I had gone through a breakup unbeknownst to him. He didn't pick up the phone. I missed his phone call. He texted me about his visits to someone in his church. He invited me to his concert. I had a bridal shower. He invited me to a movie. I invited him to a concert. I missed his phone call. I haven't seen him for over nearly two months. He calls me at 8:34am on a Monday morning.

"You were so right." It echoes in my head. "I feel like I've been a bad friend. And I miss seeing you."

It's about this time last year where we shared a pashmina to keep our teeth from chattering on a picnic bench in the dark canyon. We spoke of long-distance lovers, London, and perception with Barnes & Noble hot chocolate and pumpkin cheesecake in our stomachs. Shivering as we realized we had nothing figured out. What good is being right when you're still lonely?

Sunday, October 29, 2006

content vs. contention

con‧tent(1)  [kon-tent] –noun
1. Usually, contents.
a. something that is contained: the contents of a box.
b. the subjects or topics covered in a book or document.
c.the chapters or other formal divisions of a book or document: a table of contents.
2. something that is to be expressed through some medium, as speech, writing, or any of various arts: a poetic form adequate to a poetic content.
3. significance or profundity; meaning: a clever play that lacks content.
4. substantive information or creative material viewed in contrast to its actual or potential manner of presentation: publishers, record companies, and other content providers; a flashy Web site, but without much content.
5.that which may be perceived in something: the latent versus the manifest content of a dream.
6. Philosophy, Logic. the sum of the attributes or notions comprised in a given conception; the substance or matter of cognition.
7. power of containing; holding capacity: The bowl's content is three quarts.
8. volume, area, or extent; size.
9. the amount contained.
10. Linguistics. the system of meanings or semantic values specific to a language (opposed to expression).
11. a. Mathematics. the greatest common divisor of all the coefficients of a given polynomial. Compare primitive polynomial.
b. any abstraction of the concept of length, area, or volume.
[Origin: 1375–1425; late ME (< AF) < ML contentum, n. use of neut. of L contentus (ptp. of continēre to contain), equiv. to con- con- + ten- hold + -tus ptp. suffix]

con‧tent
(2)  [kuhn-tent] –adjective
1. satisfied with what one is or has; not wanting more or anything else.
2. British. agreeing; assenting.
3. Archaic. willing. –verb (used with object)
4. to make content: These things content me. –noun
5. the state or feeling of being contented; contentment: His content was threatened.
6. (in the British House of Lords) an affirmative vote or voter.
[Origin: 1400–50; late ME < MF < L contentus satisfied, special use of ptp. of continēre; see content1]

—Related forms

con‧tent‧a‧ble, adjective
con‧tent‧ly, adverb
con‧tent‧ness, noun

—Synonyms 4. appease, gratify. See satisfy.
—Antonyms 4. dissatisfy. –noun

con‧ten‧tion  [kuhn-ten-shuhn] –noun
1. a struggling together in opposition; strife.
2. a striving in rivalry; competition; contest.
3. strife in debate; dispute; controversy.
4. a point contended for or affirmed in controversy.
[Origin: 1350–1400; ME (< AF) < L contentiōn- (s. of contentiō), equiv. to content(us), ptp. of contendere to contend (con- con- + tentus, var. of tēnsus; see tense1) + -iōn- -ion]

—Synonyms 1. conflict, combat. 3. disagreement, dissension, debate, altercation.
—Antonyms 3. agreement.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

Friday, October 27, 2006

over the hill

My blog has reached the 40 mark... which coincides with the ridiculousness of my craving for a certain song by the Eagles- Desperado. After listening to Clementine by the Decemberists (I also had an urge to listen to I Don't Mind, which I don't have on the work computer so to Pandora I went) I located the song on dogpile, Desperado (live) and gave it a listen. Oh for mid-life-crisis cowboys.

The Eagles - Desperado (live)

Thursday, October 26, 2006

roomy

Roomy is good for things like houses but not for shoes.

Monday, October 23, 2006

oh and another thing...


Red is such a pleasing color. I think I'll use more of it.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

bicycle rides


If you haven't already noticed, bicycles are in. They went out of style for maybe 12 years, in that period where you had to get rides to the mall from your mom or where you cautiously pulled a U turn from the right lane instead of the left on your driving test (whoops!). Well the days of parental escorts are over, so is living off their kitchen's supply of food (mostly that one, I still accept cookies and peaches). Onto independence. And by independence I mean bicycle rides to the botany pond to feed the ducks and bicycle rides to South Provo to bask in the glory that is early 1900s architecture (I'm not expert, it could be any year of architecture and I wouldn't know). But these days the weather is getting chilly, and it may require a sweater and a fall-weather coat. You might want to sit on the bench that says "Sit-a-spell" on 5th East. Bring your sister (or just a friend) along and tell each other secrets neither of you can hear. Admire the leaves and ride like you used to before you became too cool for bicycles.

WOD: perfidy\pur-fuh-dee\- the act of violating faith or allegiance; violation of a promise or vow; faithlessness; treachery. (this word had nothing to do with the blog but it was the word of the day)

Thursday, October 19, 2006

mahgarita


I'm convinced that mahgarita pizza is about as good as pizza gets. It can be ordered all over Europe (as Ellie tells me she survived off of it) to the quaint pizzeria off University Parkway next to the futuristic Pudding on the Rice (but let's save that for another blog). The Bostonian pizza maker, in his thick accent greets you, making his pizzas in the oven just behind the counter, sauces created right in the restaurant, fresh ingredients, the smell of fresh crusts and garlic (Gahlic is Godliness- as he would say). Nick, of Nicolitalia's, knew us as regulars last winter. We declared Wednesday nights qua pizza night. Every Wednesday night, without fail, we entered the glass doors into the sponge-painted restaurants, dim lighting, sound of the Crooners, and the smell of fresh pizza.

My month-of-vegetarianism has created dilemma's for me in restaurants. The usual items I order are not vegetarian friendly. I've resorted to other options, that are surprisingly amazing. One of these is the before-mentioned mahgarita pizza with its fresh roma tomato slices. I ordered a personal pizza last night which came to grand total of about $4.87. With the brilliant blend of gahlic, fresh roma tomatoes, and fresh mozarella. Perfection. Give it a try and your tastebuds won't be disappointed. Vegetarian or otherwise.

qua\KWAY; KWAH\ preposition: in the capacity or character of; as.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

elevator up

Sometimes I wish I were an obstreperous person when the elevator doors open to one woman who stops the elevator after its moved two floors. Stepping onto the already packed elevator with nearly the entire panel lit up, she presses the button for next floor. And I think... which department is on floor four? Which department is on floor five? Oh, they're both nursing.

Elevator up.

WOD: obstreperous\uhb-STREP-uhr-uhs\ adj: 1)noisily and stubbornly defiant; unruly, 2) noisy, clamorous, or boisterous.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

progression

I had a dream last night (or this morning as I got to sleep in) that Heidi was getting married. Not just a cultural hall, hide the basketball hoops with fake ivy, marriage. No, a 10,000 dollars one complete with a swing band, hot pink bridesmaid dresses, and a huge reception center (that still kind of resembled a gym). Heidi didn't wait. She has always told me how she needs to know someone for at least 6 months to a year before she marries them, but she waited only 2 months or so. I was so happy for her though, and I knew it was right. But there was a twinge of jealousness.

The more I think about marriage the more it scares me. I can't imagine so many things that are happening now without the person I want to spend my life and eternity with, but I also can't imagine having that someone who wants me all of the time and who thinks as highly of me as I think of them. I'm stubborn. I don't give in. I fight about silly, trivial things. I'm a wreck. I'm a stress case most days. I love and hate people. I become easily annoyed. I talk all the time. My mind is always stuck on one issue. I'm insecure. I never feel like anything is good enough. I'm stiff. I say too much. I'm skeptical. I'm hopeful. I'm a hopeless romantic. I'm a cynic. I don't even know what to make of myself. I feel like I could always do better or be better. But I suppose that's life. You realize your insecurities, but you love people regardless. You begin to mature and give up things that are trivial and annoy you, or you deal with them in the best way possible. Marriage is no small matter, and I find myself and others pressured into something that has both temporal, physical, spiritual, and eternal significance. It is not a light decision, and it is not a light commitment.

I look to certain couples as exemplars. Living together and loving each other in sincere and honest ways. It is these couples who make me giddy with anticipation about the ups and downs of a partnership, and I just love the purity of a relationship that is both hip and spiritual (those two don't go together very often). When I find it, I feel like I'll know (like every musical, Disney movie, and romantic comedy says). There's still a lot left for me to accomplish, be it on my own or with someone else.

WOD: exemplar- 1) a model or pattern to be copied or imitated, 2) a typical or standard specimen, 3) an ideal or model type, 4) a copy of a book or text

Monday, October 16, 2006

fashionista

In an effort to a) increase vocabulary b) remember the words with which I am trying to increase my vocabulary c) to make use of my dictionary.com Word of the Day emails d) to write in my blog nearly every day I have decided, in a revolutionary move, to use my word of the day, daily in my blog. Just inserting it somewhere in there will do. The definition will follow at the end of the entry (if it is necessary).

I might have a fetish with shopping. Accessorizing being one of my biggest weaknesses. I am no fashionista- but I do love to shop. My pickiness does not extend to only shopping at high-end stores like Nordstrom, pulling on only Rockin' Republic jeans (this is Provo, afterall. Our high-end is pretty low-end). I like any quality merchandise, regardless of location. So you might locate me at D.I. on any given evening or perhaps on a Saturday afternoon, weeding through the mess of frocks and classic style jeans. The brilliant thing about D.I. is, you never know what you'll find amidst the junk from decades past- it may give you a good giggle; it may be the very item you've been looking for for years. My favorite is the few tchotchkes you can locate after digging through the piles of discarded jewelry, once the wandering children have left the plastic watches and heart-shaped lockets for the rubber boots or board games. Take for instance the 80s earrings- perfectly vintage (yes, I think they've reached that status), in every color. Amy had it down to a science with one hand grabbing the jewelry, placing it in the cart if it was good or in a discard basket if it was bad. A half an hour later I came out with a gold and brown, flower-trimmed bangle, intricate square clip-on-earrings, shiny, pale green, rectangular shell earrings, and a gold, flower-shaped brooch. Oh the wonders of D.I.

This feels somewhat incomplete, but I feel done. And word of the day use, successful.

tchotchke (CHOCH-kuh)- a trinket, a knickknack.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

attic windows

In this little attic apartment of mine there are three computers. Two that work, neither belong to me, and the one that does not (it belongs to me and sometimes it will play music if you can trick it into thinking a cd is going to be played and then secretly playing a playlist- but no music library; it can't think that hard). I am often caught sneaking into Amy's room to use the internet that may or may not be emitting rays of service. So the six of us, all of whom like to use these blasted contraptions that suck up all my time and spit out little messages on myspace, are all wanting to use one computer at some time or another. Some of us are a little more needy, checking our friend accounts repeatedly throughout the day, some just want a friendly chat with friends back home. I like both of those options so I can often be found waiting in line for the computer.

Today, I have the use of the non-mac computer, Katie's. It's a speedy little demon, it usually has a wireless connection, and it has this amazing view of the apartments to the west of us (about 10 feet away) out of a little secret window that extends about 3 feet in length and 1 foot in width directly in front of the keyboard. The paint is spread thin in some spots and on the glass in others, semi-painted nails are protruding from the wood that is warped and cracking, and there are spiderwebs extend in multiple corners with the prey that's entered through little cracks in the window. A thin rice-white checkered drape hangs awkwardly over a wooden rod attached with a large safety pin. But I like the bit of light that comes in, even though the view is white brick and 60s architecture; I can see bits of the remaining green foliage and twisting branches with a bit of non-descript sky. This weather just won't make up its mind. Sometimes its nice to have a change of scenery.

Yesterday, I switched it up. I got out of work with an hour before my first and only class of the day. Finding a bench to strattle outside the Clyde, I pulled out the monotonous Physical Science text, my ipod, and began an attempt at studying. The sun was shining on my red sweater, the ipod was choosing brilliant songs in succession-

Her Disappearing Theme- Broken Social Scene
Know How- Kings of Convenience
Punk as F&*% (a bit inappropriately titled for a song with no swearing)- American Analog Set
Agaetis Byrjun- Sigur Ros

and I felt the sunlight changing my mood by the second. The perfect temperature for an autumn day, little social interaction although people were scattered all over the sidewalk, a shout and a wave from Meg in her daring-high-heeled boots as she scurried to work so she wouldn't be late, my ipod and me with the glorious voices of my favorite artists. A bicyclist was swerving back and forth like a 4th grader with no obstacles, just the blacktop and his tires in glorious friction. He'd soon be flying down a hill with the gradual gratification that comes as you pick up speed and then reach the maximum.

The day flew as they so often do, and I found myself at the IC in the blackened theater on a Friday night. I've wanted to be there for weeks and weeks; it opened and then the time never opened up for me to go. But my season opened with the Dutch film Egg. Just under 58 minutes it captured the awkwardness of relationships, be they female-male, mother-child, neighbor-neighbor, townsfolk-individual. It was absolutely lovely. I found myself squirming with awkward situations, smiling at the birth of puppies, and laughing all along with the loveliness that is life. And I realize it's up and down, up and down, and sometimes stationary but life is often too perfect to not enjoy secret windows, moments with headphones, waves from friends, and international films.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

i could use

a swim right now
a returned phone call
another teacupful of spumoni ice cream
some determination to do homework
a fast-forward to a week from now
3 chapters of my Psychology of Gender text book read
some more insight on being ecologically sound
patience
a pleasant surprise
my long lost Caitie
communication
a long weekend
a big, beautiful city
some satisfaction

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

I'm addicted

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting
Broken Social Scene

Sometimes there are just brilliant cds that hit you at the perfect time. You listen on repeat, drive your family members mad by the repetition, and still no sweeter sound could enter your ears. This is broken social scene for me. It's the soundtrack to the city, a city where I wish I were. It's blasting in my ipod; I've imported it onto the computer at work; it's in my cd player at home; I'm playing it through my ipod on the stereo in the car. I can't escape it. If I'm not listening to it I'm singing it in my head or out loud. It satisfies and satisfies and brings me back for more. And I'm back again.