October's Child

very interesting site...

2006-10-13T09:49:00.000-05:00

Feminists for life

I signed up for their "Pro-woman answers to Pro-choice questions" email, should be interesting.

"when I'm weary of considerations..."

2006-10-06T11:31:00.000-05:00

-a selection from Robert Frost's "Birches"

So was I once myself a swinger of birches;
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

how sweet the sound...

2006-10-06T08:40:00.000-05:00

I have come to realize that I am not the kind of person who handles conflict well. When people that I love are at odds with one another I get all tense. I have this "save the world" complex, and although I know that I cannot solve all the problems of the people I care about, it is not always how I feel.

Perhaps my view of forgiveness is incredibly naive. Maybe it's just that I have learned about forgiveness the hard way. There have been people in my life that have done things that they were never going to apologize for, and I had to forgive them anyway. It seems like a lot of people don't realize that forgiveness has nothing to do with the person that you are forgiving: it has everything to do with you. Forgiving someone does mean that you are saying they are right, or what they did was okay; it's saying that you are not going to carry the heavy yolk of resentment any farther.

I had a good friend who I had been close with since Kindergarten. One day in June, her brother took an axe and killed both her and her mother. When I say that I have forgiven him, I do not say that lightly, nor do I mean that I find what he did acceptable in any way. When I say that I forgive David, I mean that I have made a conscious decision to lay down the burden of hate and anger. Forgiveness is about making things right in your own heart. It will not change what happened, it will not change the person that you are forgiving, but it will change you.

I am not perfect. I have held short grudges and said hateful things; however, I always come back to the over-whelming power of grace. How often we forget Matthew 6:14-15: "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." This is something that we hear frequently, and I'm sure most of us could quote it, but as Victor Hugo said: the law of Jesus Christ governs our society, but it does not yet permeate it. We know it our heads, but not yet in our hearts.

I know that it is far more difficult to forgive the person who has hurt someone you love than it is to forgive the person who has hurt you, but ease has never been a mark of forgiveness. It takes work. Sometimes you have to remind yourself everyday that you have forgiven someone. The feeling of peace does not always come right away, but it will come eventually. I am the person that I am today because of the forgiveness I have shown, but more so because of the forgiveness that has been shown to me. None of us deserve grace, which is why we all so desperately need it.

Feeling somewhat distant.

2006-08-07T12:31:00.000-05:00

Fidelity
I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music

And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart

And suppose I never met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose we never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall
Just to break my fall
Just to break my fall
Break my fall
Break my fall

All my friends say that of course its gonna get better
Gonna get better
Better better better better
Better better better

I never love nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost
In the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind
All this music
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart
Breaks my heart
Breaks my heart

-Regina Spektor

Complaint.

2006-08-07T00:02:00.000-05:00

Does anyone else think it's odd that my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend takes him out to dinner (just the two of them) and that she is the one who takes his dog to the vet (it just occured to me as I was writing that this probably means she has a key to his house) and that they go out to visit couple friends of theirs - or is it just me?

2006-08-04T11:15:00.000-05:00

Leonard Nimoy's Ballad of Bilbo Baggins

This is the greatest thing I've seen in a long time. Wow.

The Tummy Rebellion

2006-08-03T15:17:00.000-05:00

That's it. My stomach and I are no longer on speaking terms. It's threatening to move out. Well, if it thinks it can do better, then it's free to leave. I mean, I give it Kashi cereal and soy milk. I never make it eat fast food. I even treated it to a brownie last night, and this morning it started complaining as soon as I was done with breakfast. Ick. Maybe tomorrow I'll avoid actually food and just drink tea.

with great pride...

2006-07-27T17:01:00.000-05:00

It's time for me to brag on Jason a little. He and a few of his friends have been working for several years at starting up a production company (Outsiders Productions). I really like what they are doing. After tagging along with them to a couple of film festivals I have a great deal of respect for the way that they all put themselves out there in pursuit of their dream.

Now their first film, Looking For Hope, has been reveiwed by a website called Film Threat. The film is also featured on the popular website IMDb. I'm very excited for them. It makes me proud to see them getting some the recognition they have worked so hard for and certainly deserve. Be sure to check them out.

Support your local independent film makers!

Sheridan the Cosmetics Girl

2006-07-26T13:38:00.000-05:00

I recently started selling Arbonne. I never really pictured myself as the cosmetic salesgirl type, but here I go. I really like the product (years of chemical peels and dermatologist prescribed lotions didn't help my skin as much as Arbonne's skin care system has). So I am embarking on a new venture. Wish me luck!

Just in case you're wondering, soon I'll be putting in the last of my orders for this month. If any of you, my gentle readers, are interested please let me know as soon as possible. Of course, I can take orders anytime, but I'm trying to meet my goal for the month. There are also a couple of great specials I can tell you about.

Is this shameless self-promotion on my blog? Maybe. Are most of the friends who read my blog guys? Probably. (Though they should keep in mind that Arbonne has a great heath & wellness line as well as a men's skin care line.)

Here's hoping this business venture pays off.

Conviction.

2006-07-23T15:22:00.000-05:00

Blessed are the poor in spirit
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for rightgeousness
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers
for they will be called the sons of God.
Blessed are those who are perescuted because of rightgeousness
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

I say that I believe this, but how often is it really evident in my life? These are not easy things, and my flesh strives against such unnatural behavior. I want to be the kind of person who exemplifies these traits so that others can see in me a glimpse of what I see in Jesus, but I fall short of this goal daily. I want to do better. With God's help, I will do better.

2006-07-10T21:41:00.000-05:00

take me out to the ball game.

2006-07-10T21:40:00.000-05:00

everyone wants to go on forever, i just want to burn up hard and bright.

2006-07-10T21:38:00.000-05:00

and then there were bangs and lace curtains.

2006-07-10T21:34:00.000-05:00

and then there were bangs

I think I am this girl. I think that is bad news.

2006-07-10T17:52:00.000-05:00

Secret Garden

She'll let you in her house
If you come knockin' late at night
She'll let you in her mouth if the
Words you say are right
If you pay the price
She'll let you deep inside
But there's a secret garden she hides
She'll let you in her car
To go drivin' round
She'll let you into the parts of herself
That'll bring you down
She'll let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden, don't think twice
You've gone a million miles
How far'd you get to that place where
You can't remember and you can't forget
She'll lead you down a path
There'll be tenderness in the air
She'll let you come just far enough
So you know she's really there
She'll look at you and smile
And her eyes will say
She's got a secret garden
Where everything you want
Where everything you need
Will always stay a million miles away.
-Bruce Springsteen

2006-06-22T23:47:00.000-05:00

Greetings, Gentle Reader. It's been awhile since last I posted. I really haven't been doing anything. I go to work, I come home, I eat dinner, I mope about, I go to bed: end of story. Lately I've felt pretty blah. I'm just stuck in the doldrums. I get out for a day or two, then I fall back. Blah. I guess part of it is just that I'm bored. When I call Jason and he's hanging out w/ people I always feel like I'm this boring clingy girlfriend who calls all the time. I know this isn't how he feels, but that doesn't really change it for me.

I'm not a jealous person. Considering that most of my friends are guys, I think nothing of someone I'm dating going and hanging out with other girls. Despite this, I have felt just the slightest twing of jealousy lately. I think it boils down to this: I'm totally okay with the fact that he goes and hangs out with his ex-girlfriend, accompanies her funerals, etc. Really, this doesn't bother me. Except that it does, although not for the reason you might think. I'm just jealous that they can still have a friendship, even though they dated for three years and were pretty serious, while Jezy would probably be happy if he never had to see me again. I think if he could, he would totally go for that whole "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind" thing and just wipe me out of his memory. I want to say that I'm so over everything to do with that, but then something happens (like Jase hanging out w/ his ex) and I realize that I'm still kinda pissed. In our relationship, I totally got Faramir-ed (a phrase adopted by my cousin and I to describe someone who gets unjustifiably villianized - much like Faramir in the LoTR movies) I am not heartless! I care about people. Jezy so cultivated this aura of victimization that I began to feel like I really was a horrible person. Did I make mistakes? Yes. I should have been more sensitive to his emotions. I shouldn't have told people he went crazy the night that he caused a huge scene in the parking lot. I admit: that was wrong of me. I just got really freaked out and went on defense. I guess that is the kind of drama that comes with dating, and I have to say, it does make me question whether or not it is worth it.

Also, I think that I'm not getting enough alone time. I love my family dearly, and I always enjoy getting to come home over the summer; however, I have learned over the years that I like living on my own. I actually like being all alone in my dorm room. It's not what I want all the time, but it's what I want sometimes. It gets hard to me to think when I feel like there's always someone watching me. Am I weird? Maybe. I just need time when I'm the only one in the house so that I can recharge. I haven't really had that lately. This kind of thinking makes me worry about marriage. Can I really stand to share a bedroom with someone else for the rest of my life? I'm not sure that I can. Like Virginia Woolf said, in order for a woman to write she needs a room of her own.

So, I am bored and crowded. Hopefully I'll be able to accomplish several things that I've need to do this weekend and that will help shake it.

2006-06-16T21:55:00.000-05:00

ah, the beauty of the portable typewriter.

Save NPR and PBS!

2006-06-13T07:25:00.000-05:00

Everyone expected House Republicans to give up efforts to kill NPR and PBS after a massive public outcry stopped them last year. But they've just voted to eliminate funding for NPR and PBS—unbelievably, starting with programs like "Sesame Street."

Public broadcasting would lose nearly a quarter of its federal funding this year. Even worse, all funding would be eliminated in two years--threatening one of the last remaining sources of watchdog journalism.

Sign the petition telling Congress to save NPR and PBS again this year: http://civic.moveon.org/publicbroadcasting/

Last year, millions of us took action to save NPR and PBS, and Congress listened. We can do it again if enough of us sign the petition in time.This would be the most severe cut in the history of public broadcasting. The Boston Globe reports the cuts "could force the elimination of some popular PBS and NPR programs." NPR's president expects rural public radio stations may be forced to shut down.The House and Senate are deciding if public broadcasting will survive, and they need to hear from viewers like you.

Sign the petition at:http://civic.moveon.org/publicbroadcasting/

Thanks!P.S. Read the Boston Globe story on the threat to NPR and PBS at: http://www.moveon.org/r?r=1864

2006-05-24T12:56:00.000-05:00

Shall we dance?

2006-05-24T12:55:00.000-05:00

bare bones group

2006-05-24T12:47:00.000-05:00

Jason doesn't like this picture, but I do.

2006-05-24T12:45:00.001-05:00

I don't know what kind of face Andrew is making.

2006-05-24T12:45:00.000-05:00

Andrew and I

2006-05-24T12:44:00.001-05:00

In which I convince Jon to dance with me.

2006-05-24T12:44:00.000-05:00

at Mulate's

2006-05-24T12:43:00.001-05:00

Hurry up and wait

2006-05-24T12:43:00.000-05:00

Lauren and Thomas at Cafe Du Monde

context and other such trivial things.

2006-05-04T08:58:00.000-05:00

For Thomas's peace of mind I will give you the brief history behind the quote:

Thomas was trying to convince Jon to tickle me. I pointed out that Thomas is far more ticklish than I, and as a result, were we to engage in a tickle war I would be assured victory. At which point Thomas said "I could just hold you over my head." Jon and I were quick to let him know this was not possible. And then, Thomas gave us the quote of the week.

So there's your context, Thomas.

quote of the week

2006-05-03T21:05:00.000-05:00

"For some reason I was picturing us rolling around on the floor and me holding you over my head like I was benchpressing you."
-Thomas

Now don't get me wrong Thomas, I'm certainly flattered, but that is hardly appropriate behavior for the UCM.

The Road to the Bare Bones Film Festival

2006-05-02T13:11:00.000-05:00

21 April, 2006
I load up my car and drive to Muskogee. It is a little odd for me, driving through McAlister and Muskogee always reminds me of my mother's stories of growing up. In both places I find myself eyeing passing cemeteries and wondering which ones are the places where various relatives (most of whom I know only through stories of my mother's childhood) are long since buried. I feel a kind of tie to McAlister as a place of family history. Though I will never know the branch of the family that rests in its soil, I wonder about them. My brother does look shockingly like my mother's father; when I hold pictures of them side by side or pass through the town where I know he is buried, I feel ... curious. I have a Grandpa whom I could not love more, and I have never given a second thought to the fact that we are not related by blood; however, I sometimes wonder about this other man. I honestly don't have a great deal of empathy for him. To me, he has always been "my mother's father.” He is a photograph that mirrors my brother's smile. He is a thread of pain that is most apparent when my mother and her brother talk about their childhood. I do not know how I should feel. What do I owe the man who gave my brother those crystal blue eyes? What am I supposed to think of him? Part of me wants to know, but part of me doesn't. I pass by these Southeastern Oklahoma cemeteries, and think that perhaps someday I will go to visit his grave. Until then I drive unswervingly northward. My mind is drawn away by Woody Guthrie's steady drawl crackling over my speakers, and ten miles outside city limits thoughts of blood ties are long forgotten when my front passenger-side tire blows its tread, taking part of my bumper and door paneling with it.

And so it begins.

2006-05-01T13:20:00.000-05:00

It seems like this happens every semester. I get down to the last two weeks, and I realize that not only do I have a ton of things to do, but somewhere along the way I have misplaced my motivation. I find myself scrambling through the pockets of dirty jeans, franticly searching for it like the car keys that always seem to disappear just when I am walking out the door. Perhaps I should check the pockets of my coats. I always find interesting things in them at the beginning of winter: gum and lipstick and other people's lighters. Or perhaps I absent-mindedly dropped my motivation in my car ashtray among the nickels and dimes and half-used chapsticks that are sure to melt in coming summer. That's where I would start looking for my motivation, but unfortunately I don't have the time.

It's true.

2006-03-31T10:36:00.000-06:00

this message is brought to you by married to the sea

2006-03-19T19:21:00.000-06:00

Who can resist a girl shooting a Bulgarian Ak-74 with a Russian sniper scope?

"somehow very likeable"

2006-03-09T13:15:00.000-06:00

You are Christina Yang. You are incredibly

determined and very blunt... yet somehow very

likable

Which Grey's Anatomy Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

the best concert. ever.

2006-02-27T14:15:00.000-06:00

My heart broke and my head shattered and I received salvation.

So I like to engage in a bit of hyperbole, but Sigur Ros was seriously amazing. I actually did cry. I can't explain it, but around the third song I just felt the music. I sat there with my hands clasped in my lap and let myself go. There was something about that bow across the guitar strings; it vibrated down through the notches in my spine and undid me. All of the things that I had been carrying around in the muscles of my back rattled loose and washed out. In my mind I quietly named them as I let them fall away. I have to consciously release things every now and then. I can't help but internalize things, especially friends' problems that I know I cannot fix. I cannot save the world, and logically I know this; however, that doesn't change the fact that everything balls up into little knots in my back. Today I feel very knot-free. It was wonderful, especially since I was kinda upset yesterday. I was afraid to let myself be really excited about the concert because I felt a little guilty about the whole thing. Once I was on the road though, I decided that it is not really my fault that Jezy can't be my friend, and that I was going to have a great time. And you know what? I did have a great time. Jolena had a great time too (and I think she also cried a bit...we get emotional). I was really glad that she was there. I'll eventually post pictures if any of them are clear enough, but I don't have my cable in Ada.

your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures.

2006-02-24T14:41:00.000-06:00

Why did I get the crazy ex-boyfriend? I finally decide that I'll give dating a try, and I end up with the kind of guy who is now listed as "Don't Answer" in my phone. I think I'm through with dating. Really. I mean, it was okay, but I feel like I can get by just fine without it. Perhaps even better without it. For one thing, I'm the kind of girl who enjoys a good harmless flirt and it's nice to be able to joke around with my guy friends and not worry about how it's going to make my boyfriend feel. Of course, I didn't worry about it too much when we were together...that may have been indicative of our problems. I'm just not ready to settle down and belong to someone. It cramps my style.

Speaking of style, all you girls better watch out for Thomas with that Falls Creek arm move. He may leave room for Jesus, but Jon will still threaten to go looking for his maglight.

"Dick Cheney Determined to Strike in U.S."

2006-02-23T08:57:00.000-06:00

I know the whole Cheney shooting incident may have been blown way out of proportion but still, you have to admit, this is still pretty funny.

quote of the week:

2006-02-22T14:32:00.000-06:00

"I always thought that I'd have a girlfriend before Sheridan did."
-Jon, upon listening to one of my rants about the unbearably fragile emotional state of a certain ex-boyfriend

Look! A blog!

2006-02-07T09:57:00.000-06:00

Ever since I've started blogging I have received complaints that I do not do it frequently enough. When will people learn that's just the way I roll? Anyway, here's a blog for you.

Is it really already time for me to be seriously looking at grad schools? I'm googling all this stuff and searching web pages and checking application fees/deadlines...wasn't I just doing this? I guess the three years since high school have gone by pretty fast. Thinking about grad school makes me excited, but nervous. It has definitely put me in a weird mood. Although I never really reached the point where the city of Ada felt like home, there are people here who have become home to me. I hate getting all gushy when I know that I'm not actually leaving soon, but I've been thinking about it quite a bit lately. There are people that I am going to miss so much, and it's not just the idea that I won't be near them, but that from now on we will only be moving farther away from each other. I find myself already preparing to say goodbye to the people and places that have become, in many ways, like a family. Okay, I'm stopping with the sappy.

Not only will I be leaving, but I will be going somewhere for the first time where I will not know anyone. Even when I came to Ada, I had my "sister" Lauren. She has been my best friend for years and so I never felt alone knowing that she was there. It will be so strange to go someplace where I don't even have my one person.

I feel all these insecurities bubbling to the surface: what if all my previous successes have just been flukes and I can't handle grad school? What if I get there and I don't find a group to connect with? What if I go 80,000 dollars in debt for my MA and PhD and then I don't get a job using them? What if I do get a job, but then I realize I don't want to do that at all?

These are the moments when I take a deep breath, channel my inner southern belle, and say "I'll think about that tomorrow."

On the plus side, I'm also very excited by all the things that are making me so nervous. It'll be a very big adventure to go somewhere new and meet new people. I'm pretty set on divinity school at this point, and simply feeling like I have a direction helps. I know some of you are saying: Sheridan? Divinity school? Fear not, gentle reader, I won't be filling a pulpit near you any time soon. I still plan on teaching college, just focusing on a different topic. I love the idea of taking young minds and stirring them up, challenging them, making them ask hard questions of themselves and their faith.

I want to make people think: like the girl in my World Religion and Thought class who has some patented Sunday School answer for everything and actually said "Well, the bible says that God made the world because he was lonely" and then proceeded to correct the boy who said Paul wrote Revelation by telling him "By the way, Paul didn't write Revelation, that was John the Baptist." I wanted to tell her that was quite a feat for John the Baptist considering his head had literally been served on a silver platter several books earlier and ask her where in Genesis she'd found that passage about God moping about the cosmos all lonesome. It's very 'hear the lonesome whippoorwill, he sounds too blue to fly...", but somehow this is never quite the image I conjured from my reading of the text.

Anyway, it's off to class now. See, that was a nice long blog. Tune in next time when we will examine the pros and cons of skipping grad school altogether and joining a monastery.

Things to do when you don't have class:

2006-02-01T11:07:00.000-06:00

make a list of things to do when you don't have class
look up more divinity school information
find yourself even more torn about the idea
pass out upon viewing grad school/divinity school tuitions
ponder whether giving your ex the break up cd you made for him will help him feel better or make him more depressed
wonder if it's okay to talk to him yet or if he still wants to keep as much distance as possible between the two of you
consider the possibilty that there is a special hell for people who break others' hearts
consider the possibility that you are experiencing it right now
look up directions to the bass performance hall in dallas
get excited about going home for the weekend
realize it is only wednesday
decide that you are going to start tanning because you are desperate to soak up some sun, even if it is fake
think that you should really stop refering to yourself in the second person

Wings of Desire

2006-01-18T13:09:00.000-06:00

When the child was a child, it was the time of these questions. Why am I me, and why not you? Why am I here, and why not there? When did time begin, and where does space end? Isn't life under the sun just a dream? Isn't what I see, hear, and smell just the mirage of a world before the world? Does evil actually exist, and are there people who are really evil? How can it be that I, who am I, wasn't before I was, and that sometime I, the one I am, no longer will be the one I am?

Long time no blog.

2006-01-07T11:12:00.001-06:00

Ahhh...the holidays are now over, and I'm back to school. Don't get me wrong, I've loved every minute of the break, but I can only sit around in my pajamas eating cookies and watching tv for so many days before I start to feel less relaxed and more just plain lazy.

Over the break...

I didn't get to finish any books like I'd hoped, but I did get about a third of the way through both "Cash: the autobiography" and "Master and Marguerita".

The shows I watched most in no particular order were: What Not to Wear, The Daily Show, Miami Ink, The Cobert Report.

I went to see the following movies, listed in order of how much they made me cry: The Producers (none), King Kong (eyes welled up), The Family Stone (about the same), Brokeback Mountain (I should have brought tissues).

I watched several movies at home, two of which featured St. Francis. Millions (he appeared briefly)and Brother Sun Sister Moon (Zeffirelli film all about him). I also watched the German film Wings of Desire, which had plenty of angels, but no saints.

I hung out with family (my cousins have the cutest kids ever), learned to knit, and actually found two new pairs of jeans that fit.

Success!

the wisdom of u2

2005-12-14T09:35:00.000-06:00

Is it sad that I look to Bono for spiritual encouragement and guidance?

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
I have kissed honey lips
Felt my healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well, yes I'm still running
You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Of my shame
You know I believed it
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

It's almost over...

2005-12-14T09:33:00.000-06:00

So it's finals week. And of course, since I'm having a slow meltdown regarding the amazing amount of stuff I have to do before friday, the logical thing to do is blog. I'm so ready for school to be out. I need to have a few weeks to recharge. I want to read a book for myself and not a class. Also, I'm ready to get away from Ada for a bit.

I started this semester with such a spiritual hunger, and I've felt myself slowly losing it. What happened to that passionate search? I don't have all the answers, but I'm fascinated by the questions. When I get to attend my Sunday night class in OKC I'm always so charged by the things that we are talking about and looking into, but then I come back here and I get bogged down by work and school and I forget how wonderful the search for knowledge and truth can be. I want to remember.

Not reading what I should be.

2005-11-26T00:52:00.000-06:00

So what's a girl to do when she has procrastinated until the last minute to work on her giant term paper for Brit Lit? Read something else of course. I was just tired of The Good Soldier, so today I picked up the copy of True Grit that had been buried on a shelf for years. I seriously need to make a book list so that I'll quit browsing through things that way I have been lately. I'm in the middle of about five different books. Anyway, I was thumbing through True Grit, considering where it should go on my list and I really liked this quote at the beginning:

"True Grit is when you are a 14-year-old girl from Yell County, Ark., and you've just shot a dangerous outlaw and the gun's recoil has sent you backward into a pit, and you are wedged in the pit and sinking fast into the cave below where bats are brushing against your legs, and you reach out for something to hold on to and find a rotting corpse beside you and it's full of angry rattlers, and then it turns out that you didn't kill the outlaw, he's up at the rim of the pit laughing at you, about to shoot - and you don't lose your nerve. That's True Grit."
Eliot Fremont-Smith
The New York Times

2005-11-25T14:02:00.000-06:00

'Tis a thistle.

2005-11-25T14:00:00.000-06:00

This is my friend the buffalo.

2005-11-25T10:59:00.000-06:00

My mom and dad.

an attempt at amateur photography

2005-09-25T18:01:00.000-05:00

in case you missed the live performance

2005-09-25T15:15:00.000-05:00

what happens when i shoot heroin then cut and paste two of my poems together? burroughs only knows. warning: this poem is subject to change.

Salvation

I once loved a boy with a scarlet tongue
who lifted fingerprints from empty glasses of scotch
and knew the going rate for souls
I sold my lungs at the crossroads for one last cigarette
then we paid to have our fortunes processed
in some neon-spattered room
by a chipped nail polish & chewing gum medium
who played a steady hand of tarot - a serious poker face
we kissed with well-oiled mechanic perfection
in sterile city bedrooms scraping sky
until I wandered too far from tangled sheets
falling into a city park like a long-forgotten dream of Walden
where red clay paints white shoes pink
and transcendentalist spiders spin
gossamer traps between fallen tree branches
among last year’s leaves I call sanctuary
and though there are no stained-glass saints
here i am remembering how to breathe
while somewhere he is talking nihilism over desert
to a bored bottle blonde who already believes that nothing matters

2005-09-25T15:10:00.000-05:00

chris makes 'allen ginsberg' eyes at the camera.

one more reason...

2005-09-06T19:11:00.000-05:00

It seems that every day I grow increasingly disenchanted with my government. Since both Bush Sr. and Clinton have stated that "No one could have seen this coming", I would like to point out that anyone with half a brain could have seen this coming. I know that now is the time to take action and not lay blame, but after spending the weekend watching footage upon footage of a downtrodden New Orleans, I couldn't help but feel a hint of anger as well as sadness. Especially when considering the following:

"A year ago the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers proposed to study how New Orleans could be protected from a catastrophic hurricane, but the Bush administration ordered that the research not be undertaken. After a flood killed six people in 1995, Congress created the Southeast Louisiana Urban Flood Control Project, in which the Corps of Engineers strengthened and renovated levees and pumping stations. In early 2001, the Federal Emergency Management Agency issued a report stating that a hurricane striking New Orleans was one of the three most likely disasters in the U.S., including a terrorist attack on New York City. But by 2003 the federal funding for the flood control project essentially dried up as it was drained into the Iraq war. In 2004, the Bush administration cut funding requested by the New Orleans district of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for holding back the waters of Lake Pontchartrain by more than 80 percent. Additional cuts at the beginning of this year (for a total reduction in funding of 44.2 percent since 2001) forced the New Orleans district of the Corps to impose a hiring freeze. The Senate had debated adding funds for fixing New Orleans' levees, but it was too late." (read the rest here)

As my friend Tyler pointed out, "Congress and the Senate have magnanimously ended their summer recess to get aid to Katrina victims. During the Terry Shiavo debacle, they reconvened from their break one day after they pulled the tube from her. Katrina came through Monday and finally they decided to return---on Friday. You have to wonder where this country's priorities lie."

Yesterday as I saw footage the French Quarter for the first time since the hurricane hit, I was glad to see that it was still intact. It was heartening to see a handful people parading through the Quarter with battered parasols and hand-painted t-shirts proclaiming "I survived Katrina, and all I looted was this t-shirt". So the spirit of New Orleans lives on, but I cannot get over the fact that her people were failed on every level.

I guess I'll give in.

2005-08-19T01:04:00.000-05:00

1) When was the last time you went to the bathroom outside?
Not sure I ever have.

2) When was the last time you saw one of your parents?
about three minutes ago

3) Which family member do you most resemble?
I happen to look almost creepily like my dad's older sister Sonya.

4) Do you wear cologne/perfume?
yes, currently Envy Me by Gucci

5) Do you wear deodorant?
What kind of question is this? Seriously, who doesn't?

6) Do you ‘clean up nice’?
I believe saying yes would imply that I am usually dirty.

7) When was the last time you tripped and fell?
I have no idea, but I suspect it involved stairs and my new four inch stilettos.

8) Where was the last place you slept besides your home?
Liam Neeson's bed. I jest, I jest.

9) What are you listening to right now?
Crazy Love - Van Morrison (Why am I such a sucker for this man's love songs?)

10) Have you ever started an uncontrollable fire?
Define "uncontrollable". I mean, sure most of the kitchen was ruined, but I did manage to put the fire out so...

11) Ever run out of gas on the road?
Not in my car. Once while riding with my friend Mike he was low on gas. I kept saying "I'll pay for it, just stop and get some gas." and he kept saying "No, we'll be just fine." Guess who was right.

12) Would you rather cut the grass or rake the leaves?
Rake the leaves, then jump in them.

13) Your name spelled backwards?
If people really want to know this they can figure it out themselves.

14) What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer?
"Sway" by Dean Martin

15) Last time you swam in a pool?
I have no idea. It may have been when I was in Mexico a couple years ago.

16) Have you ever been in a school play?
Yes, I was Mary's mother in "The Secret Garden" (a role much coveted because of the awesome pink dress I got to wear).

17) How many kids do you want?
I'm not even sure I'll ever get married...

18) Type of music you dislike most?
If I never heard Mariah Carey again that would be more than okay.

19) You registered to vote?
Do I really need to answer that?

20) You have cable?
Does it count if it's stolen?

21) Ever prank call anybody?
It's happened.

22) Best friends?
If I answer this there is bound to be someone that I accidentally leave off.

23) Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving?
I would love to go sky diving some day.

24) Do you have a garden?
I have houseplants.

25) What’s your favorite comic strip?
Calvin and Hobbes

26) Bath or Shower, morning or night?
shower - both; bath - every now and then

27) Best new movie you’ve seen in the past month?
March of the Penguins (shout out to Tyler!)

28) Favorite pizza topping?
cheese, basil, and tomato (I'm assuming here it means "favorite way to top a pizza", and not "favorite one thing to put a pizza")

29) Chips or popcorn?
I don't know.

30) What color lipstick do you usually wear?
Clinique's Juicy Apple (actually lipgloss)

31) Have you ever smoked peanut shells?
I didn't even know you could do that!

32) Orange Juice or apple?
cranberry juice

33) Favorite type of chocolate bar?
something by the Endangered Species Chocolate Company, I can't choose

34) When was the last time you voted at the polls?
November

35) Last time you ate a homegrown tomato?
not that long ago

36) Are you a good cook?
when I do cook (which is rare) it's good

37) Ever order anything from an infomercial?
no

38) Sprite or 7-up?
7-up, but only when I'm sick

39) Have you ever had to wear a uniform to work?
back in my concession stand days I had to wear a City of Moore t-shirt

40) Ever thrown up in public?
I'm a naturally queasy person (more so as a child), so yeah. Here's an example: I was at Mazzio's and a little boy across from us kinda spat up, I made it to the bathroom door, then lost it. Then all the toilets were in use and I lost it again in the sink. Double yuck.

41) Would you prefer being a millionaire or find true love?
I could do a lot more good in the world as a millionaire than I could just being in love.

42) Do you believe in love at first sight?
No, but I do believe people can have intense connections with people they've just met.

43) Can ex’s be friends?
Not having any ex's I'm not sure I'm qualified to answer this.

44) Who was the last person you visited in a hospital?
my former neighbor Marion

45) Did you have a lot of hair as a baby?
I was quite bald.

46) What message is on your answering machine?
Lou Reed sings "I was sleeping, gently napping, when I heard the phone. Who is on the other end talking? Am I even home?" Then I say "It's Sheridan, you know what to do."

47) What do you think about most?
I have a pretty intense "save-the-world" complex, which has been in overdrive lately. I've been thinking a lot about the Beatitudes, why as Christians we don't seem to take them seriously, and how we could change things if we did.

48) Favorite form of travel?
I love a good road trip.

49) Ever drink rotten milk?
That's a big negative. but I have to disagree with Lisa about soy milk, I dig it.

50) What do you think of the person who posted this ahead of you?
Chris is the best black girl I ever dated for one night at a wake.
Which is surprising when you consider that he is neither black nor a girl, and that I've never dated anyone at all.

When the Body of Christ Attacks

2005-08-14T13:41:00.000-05:00

There are some people who just have Communion trouble. I am one of those people. If something is going to go wrong during this sacred event, then it is usually going to go wrong for me. I love Communion, it just doesn't love me. There was the time I dropped and smashed my communion wafer, the time that trays got passed down the aisle in both directions leaving both my friend Melissa and I stuck holding two trays each and wondering who on earth we were supposed to pass to, there was the time my brilliant youth pastor decided that we should all have dixie cups of juice and huge chunks of bread so we were all stuck trying to discreetly eat emblems that bordered on luncheons. Today though, may have been the worst Communion ever.

Things were looking good. I was definitely in the spirit of things, all very reverent, and then things went horribly wrong. As we stood to pray, I found myself choking on the Communion wafer. I was trying not to make a scene during the Pastor's prayer, so I tried to cough quietly. Then, as though I had been hiemliched, the Communion wafer bit flew from my throat and landed on the pew in front of me. Now there is just no way that isn't funny, so now I'm trying desperately not to laugh. As many of you know, the more you try not to laugh about something the funnier it becomes. I am no longer even hearing my pastor because all I can hear is the voice in my head that is telling me I am probably going to Hell for laughing at Communion, and was apparently headed there anyway since I was choking on my sacred emblem. As my pastor closed the prayer I quickly grabbed my cracker bit from the pew and then had to explain to those around me why I was first coughing, then laughing, during Communion. What a Sunday.

Name that Movie - Part Deux

2005-08-13T23:26:00.000-05:00

1) "You know you don't have to act with me. You don't have to say anything, and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you? You just put your lips together and... blow."

2) "It's funny how beautiful people are when they're walking out the door."

3) "We're sorta like 7-11; we're not always doing business, but we're always open."

4) "Hey, Old Man. You home tonight? Can You spare a minute? It's about time we had a little talk. I know I'm a pretty evil fellow. Killed people in the war and got drunk - and chewed up municipal property and the like. I know I got no call to ask for much, but even so, You've got to admit You ain't dealt me no cards in a long time."

5) "[He]is extremely radical. Do you know that he selects his books on the assumption that people not only can read but actually can think?"

6) "Who took the jam out of your donut?"

7) "You mean last year's diamonds? Oh no, we don't bother with them. You see, we just throw them out. They get so shabby, you know."

8) "When I buy a new book, I read the last page first. That way, in case I die before I finish, I know how it ends. That, my friend, is a dark side."

9) "It's women that's shaped like leaves, and men fall."

10) "I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

Paul Simon's not the only one with a Nikon camera.

2005-08-04T21:33:00.000-05:00

c'est moi.

North Carolina part the second: Can I Get a Hooah?

2005-08-04T10:31:00.000-05:00

If there was a theme to our North Carolina trek, it would have been ... well, I don't know, something patriotic. We went to the Special Forces Museum, we were on base for Independence Day, and we went to Greg's jump. It was fun. Before I knew it I was singing along to the Ballad of the Green Berets and saying "hooah". Of course, we also sang along to Alice's Restaurant, because, you know, balance is important. And after all, you can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant. (Roz, darling, if you know this then I will perform it with you anytime, anywhere. With or without the bear and/or beer on a bicycle.)

In which there are penguins and Sheridan is very excited.

2005-08-03T16:37:00.000-05:00

As winter begins in the southernmost continent, you can see them moving, a long line of black against the white untouched Antarctic ice. They are returning to the place of their birth, guided by the sun and the stars or perhaps some instinct, born in them after centuries of ancestors who have made this same trek. Thus “March of the Penguins” begins. A documentary of love, loss, grief, joy, determination, and hope; this film tells the story of the emperor penguins’ incredible journey. These fascinating animals stole my heart long before the film, but in this epic, they broke it. It was amazing to watch as they go through the arduous process of bringing new life into the world.

The march to the breeding ground is only the beginning for them. At every stage the lives of the penguins hang in a precarious balance. The eggs must be transferred from the mother to the father without touching the ice for more than a moment, or else they will freeze. Then the mothers make the 70 mile journey back to the sea so that they can replenish their food store (they’ve lost over a third of their body weight) in order to provide the chicks with food. The fathers huddle together, keeping the eggs balanced on their feet incubated at a balmy 95 degrees despite the -100 degree temperature around them. Before the mothers get back the chicks have begun to hatch. The fathers (who have now lost half of their body weight) have only enough store to feed the chicks for a few days; if the mothers are not back by then the chicks will starve. Upon their return it is time for the fathers to go out to sea. Each one sings his chick an unique song so that upon his return they will recognize each other.

The chicks are still too young to be outside and as they are transferred once again from father to mother, they shiver in the freezing cold. The young chicks stay safely in their mothers’ pouches until their feathers come in warm and thick. There is really nothing cuter than seeing a penguin waddling along with a fluffy grey chick atop its feet “like a child learning to dance by standing on its mother’s shoes.” Eventually they must face the cold on their own and instinctively begin to huddle together. The penguins form these gently rotating spirals to protect each other from the storms that rage all around, each penguin slowly moving so that everyone has a turn at the center. The chicks are not quite so adept at this, and they were adorable as they climbed all over each other; some trying to get to the middle, some trying to get out of it. Unfortunately, not all of the chicks will survive the storms, nor will all of them escape from predators. It was heart-wrenching to see the mother penguins as they mourned for their chicks.

Soon the time comes for the fathers’ return and the mothers’ departure. For the next few months they will continue to journey back and forth bringing back food. Finally the time comes for the chicks to be left on their own. The mother and father both leave. For a little while chicks stay at the breeding ground, but soon they travel to the sea that they have never seen, but while call home. They flop rather ungracefully into the ocean, splashing like small children in a pool. They will remain in their seaside homes until winter comes to their fourth year. Then, like endless generations before them, they too will leave the water and head inland along the same path toward the same patch of frozen land.

Sorry if I couldn’t sum-up better. It was wonderful film, and I was lucky enough to see it with Tyler, a fellow penguin afficionado. Even he admitted to getting a little teary-eyed in parts. Of course, I’m sure he went home and ate a big steak and watched some football, and it was all very masculine. I’m sure. If you get a chance to see this moving film, don’t pass it up.

North Carolina part the first: The Great Fayetteville Airplane Riot

2005-07-29T10:31:00.000-05:00

Look at Jolena. She’s so happy, so ready to go. This however, is before we’ve been on our first plane. We had a long layover in Chicago, so after some lunch we grabbed frappuchinos and sat down in the Hall of Light to people-watch.
The trouble didn’t really begin until we were on our third plane of the day. After twelve hours spent either in ports or on planes, we were getting a little restless and silly. Now this third ride was just a quick little jaunt. Seriously, about thirty minutes. There were only about ten minutes in which you could use electronic devices, take a trip to the rest room, try to squeeze in your mile-high club time, etc. A boy on the opposite aisle and couple seats back decided to use this time to let us all in on his music of choice. Lena and I commented on it to each other, but it was nothing we couldn’t overlook for a couple minutes. The man in the row ahead of him did not feel the same way. Apparently unable to simply take care of the matter on his own, he called the stewardess to the back of plane and told her to tell the boy to turn down his headphones. Jolena and I gave each other knowing looks and very quietly we began to sing. This man clearly deserved to be annoyed, and clearly needed to know that Jeramiah was, in a fact, a bullfrog and a good friend. The man stood up, yelling at us about how tired he was, how he just wanted a couple minutes of peace, etc. The stewardess came rushing back, trying to calm the man down. Lena and I were still singing, only louder. This turned out to be a mistake, since we were pegged as trouble-makers (ie: potential “tourists”, as Bush would say) and had to be retained after landing.

At least, that’s what could have happened. Instead...

Jolena and I decided that the man would feel a lot better if he just knew that Jeremiah always had a mighty fine wine. We were just closing in on the second verse when we heard another voice joining in, apparently the man we were trying to annoy was also a high life flyer and a straight-shootin son of a gun. Strengthened in our numbers, we sang out louder and other passengers joined in. Before we knew it, everyone was singing along. People were starting to step out into the aisles and dance. Even the stewardesses were whisked into the fray and then someone spied the now unguarded liquor cart. Tiny bottles were passed back through the dancing, singing throng and by the time the fasten seatbealts light dinged back on everyone agreed that this was the best plane ride ever.

At least, that’s what I wish had happened. Instead...

Lena and I tried to spread a little joy to the world, but couldn’t remember all the words to the second verse. We skipped them, remembered some of them, and then segued into stunning tale of how we’ve never been to Heaven, but we’ve been to Oklahoma. They tell us we were born there, but we really don’t remember. Oklahoma, not Arizona. Finally we arrived in Fayetteville. Now the trip could really begin.

Hello, my name is Sheridan. And I am a Harry Potter fan.

2005-07-25T23:29:00.000-05:00

After a short sabbatical upon my return from North Carolina (more on that later) I now return to you.

How big of a dork am I? Well, Friday before last at nine o'clock, my cousins Jolena and Judy and myself could be found standing in line at Borders to get our numbers. Yes, we were there for the midnight release of Harry Potter. Wearing our enormous Gryffindor scarves (knitted for us by their sister, my cousin, Jessica) despite the hot and humid Oklahoma night, we got our tickets and then quickly found other books we needed (The Idiot for Lena, The Collected Short Stories of Carson McCullers for me, and The Trial of Socrates for Judy). We then decided to grab some faux-frappuchinos and head for a corner of the store not occupied by teenagers in capes and face paint. In line for iced coffees we encountered a group of girls (sans capes) who were discussing rather, um, interesting possible ends to the series, one of which involved Sirius coming back to life and shacking up with Lupin in a not-so-platonic way. You never know with Harry Potter fans.

Less than twelve hours after receiving it, I finished book number six. While I have discussed it at length with several people (including my parents, whose interest I realize may be faked), I have stayed away from chat rooms. I may be telling anyone who'll listen about my theories, but I'm not a complete nerd yet. So I hold onto my small remaining scrap of dignity and pray that book seven will come out soon. Hopefully I will not be disappointed, and it will finally be proved that Snape is, as I firmly believe him to be, good. He is my favourite character and I'll be quite sad to think that I had him wrong this whole time. Of course, the fact that I like him may be more proof against his innocence than for it. My brother is always quick to point out my affinity for bad guys. Especially bad guys played by Alan Rickman.

You can't tell the gun-nuts just by looking at them: shouldn't they come with warning labels?

2005-06-27T17:53:00.000-05:00

The other day the girls I work with and I seriously had this conversation (may not be word for word, but I swear it is not embellished)

A: The other day I thought I was gonna get some target practice with my nine. It was the middle of the night, and someone came pounding on my door like they were about trying to come in. So my boyfriend and I jumped outta bed with our guns, they were gonna be in for a surprise. They were just nigger-knocking I guess, cause they were gone when we opened the door.

Me: (making "oh-my-god-i-can't-believe-she-used-that-word" face)

K: (who is African-American) Well, I respect that you have guns and all, but I would never own a gun. I just feel like there is too strong a history of violence behind them.

A: What if someone comes into your house and they're going to kill you, or rape you? You don't have to take that. If someone came into my house I would shoot them.

K: I feel like if that's my time to go then that's my time to go. It has a lot to do with my spirituality; I put that in God's hands.

A: No, I'm sorry, but if someone breaks into your house then "God" has nothing to do with it. You can't let someone else decide that it's your "time to go".

K: You don't understand my point of view.

A: No, I do. Whatever. I have guns, I have lots of guns. I don't see anything wrong with it, and I tell you what, They'll never take guns away. Especially in Oklahoma and Texas, people love their guns. I love my guns. I love my guns.

Me: My dad owns guns, he had all my life. He has a couple of rifles and a shotgun, because he used to hunt. Now he just takes my little brother target shooting. I am not going to tell anyone that they can't hunt (even though I could never do it), I'm not trying to take away anyone's rifle. I am however, for strict gun laws. For example, no one needs an AK-47.

A: I have two AK-47s.

Me: (making "oh-pardon-me-i-didn't-realize-you-were-crazy" face)

The conversation was pretty much over at this point. I mean, what kind of response am I supposed to have to that? I, obviously, agree with K. I think that in world faced with extreme violence, there is a call for extreme pacifism. There is bravery in believing that our protection comes from God not from our own hands. I guess A. probably wouldn't understand the fact that I even try to avoid killing things like spiders and moths that get in the house. This is part of my problem with "pro-life" types who also happen to be pro-war and pro-capital punishment. To truly be able to talk about the "sanctity of life" that mustn't all life be sacred? Not only the life of an unborn child, but the lives of drug dealers and soldiers and even murderers? What about the lives of cows and whales and even trees?

I'm not advocating that we never chop down another tree or step on another blade of grass. I'm not even advocating that everyone becomes a vegetarian (though it's an admirable step, and one I'm seriously considering - especially after some of the things Chris has been writing). I just think that before we take any life we should think twice about it. We should ask ourselves if it is necessary, or if it can be avoided. God gave us dominion over the earth, but not so that we could destroy it however we wanted; we are called instead to be it's stewards.

Next issue of "Get to Know Your Peacemakers" - Coming Soon.

The Fairest of the Seasons

2005-06-26T13:52:00.000-05:00

Those of you who have not seen the Korean film "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring" should correct this immediately. Director Kim Ki-Duk tells a story that is poignant without being sentimental, timeless without being trite, and painful without being sad. The film does not span one year, but instead, each season represents a stage in the life of a man who is raised from childhood as a monk on a tiny monastery floating in the middle of an isolated mountain lake. Spring represents the innocence of childhood. Summer deals with feelings of lust/love during which the older monk warns the young man, "Lust awakens the desire to possess. And that awakens the intent to murder." Just as he has forewarned, Fall is marred by actions of anger and evil. The next chapter opens though, and Winter brings wisdom and enlightenment. Finally, Spring comes again to the small monastery; thus both completing the cycle, and beginning it again. I don't want to give away the entire storyline, suffice it to say that it was a lovely and moving film. There are no names given to the main characters and the dialogue is sparse, but the story lacks nothing for these absences. There was a slow, quiet elegance to the film that worked perfectly for this simple Buddhist fable.

Thing to do on a Saturday in late June:

2005-06-25T21:11:00.000-05:00

have your cousin teach you how to drive a standard
tell your mom you're thinking seriously about joining the Peace Corps
watch "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring"
eat cherries at dinner and tie all the stems into knots with your tongue

two posts: one night

2005-06-25T01:57:00.000-05:00

this doesn't have a title yet, but here goes...

i once loved a boy with a scarlet tongue
who lifted fingerprints from empty glasses of scotch
and knew the going rate for souls
we kissed with well-oiled mechanic perfection
in sterile city bedrooms scraping sky
until i wandered too far from tangled sheets
falling into a city park
like a long-forgotten dream of walden
where red clay paints white shoes pink
and transcendentalist spiders spin
gossamer traps between fallen tree branches
here i am remembering how to breathe
while somewhere he is talking nihilism over desert
to a bored bottle blonde who already believes that nothing matters

Don't really know why I'm doing this...

2005-06-24T18:45:00.000-05:00

I realize it looks like it's been forever since I've blogged, but the truth is, I've just been bad lately about writing all these serious blogs that always wind up saved as drafts because I feel strange getting too personal on my blog. Okay, so really I just avoid getting too personal, period. I have a hard time letting people get to know me and I realize that I have a lot of masks that I wear. I mean, I'm pretty honest, but I tend to hide behind some things to avoid talking about others. I let you see me angry, but not depressed; I talk about my personal politics, but not my personal faith. I especially find myself doing this in "church" situations. I particularly regret doing this at the UCM. There are people there that I really would like to be closer to, but I have a hard time approaching people (I'm actually rather introverted and pretty insecure as far as relationships are concerned, I just bluff my way through by being sarcastic and pretentious) as a result, I come off more distant and cold than I want to. I would like to be more involved, but I've never had a good experience with youth groups, and tend to be wary of such situations. I have been burned by my previous attempts at personal involvment in church, but this summer things have been going better at my home church. It has made me realize that I missed having a good church connection throughout last school year. I just want to apologize to all the people I may have unintentionally distanced myself from.

So maybe it's okay for my blog to get a little personal.

kidneys for cash, cocaine trafficking, and other better ways to earn money than what i'm doing right now.

2005-06-03T14:14:00.000-05:00

Okay, so black marketing my kidneys and flying back from colombia with a stomach full of plastic baggies of coke are not really the kind of career opportunities i'm looking for. They would just be a lot more exciting than sitting here answering the phone and risking a little illegal internet. I guess I've just been reading too much about Thomas's little South America jaunt. Thankfully, on Monday I'll be starting somewhere new: thus the beauty of the temp job. In just a minute I'll get to stamp and file some mail. This, seriously, is the most exciting part of my job(okay so really the pay is the most exciting part of my job, and I'm very very grateful to have the work). I especially like the stamping part. What fun!

Okay so the whole mail thing took me all of about five minutes. Now what? I've been wondering (and now I ask you, Faithful Readers) does anyone else think there is a right and a wrong way to paper clip? This may be giving you all a bigger insight into my neuroses than any of you care to have, but I was curious as to whether or not it was the kind of thing that bothered anyone else. I feel that the paper clip is meant to be put on with the bigger side in front, the open side facing right. -- Wow, I should not have the kind of job that allows me to pay so much attention to such things.

this one goes out to thomas pack.

2005-06-01T23:58:00.000-05:00

So I wasn't going to blog, not having much to say; however, then I thought of Thomas patiently waiting for this page to upload, salivating for that next fix that only I can provide. How could I deny him that great pleasure? And so I bring you a game.

And now I bring you the answers.

Name that Movie.
the objective is simple enough: i give you a list of quotes; you tell me what movie they are from; extra points if you can give me another quote from the same movie. no cheating.

1. Opium doesn't just grow on trees, you know.
Trainspotting

2. How could I have known that murder could sometimes smell like honeysuckle?
Double Indemnity

3. Zoos are full, prisons are overflowing... oh my, how the world still dearly loves a cage.
Harold and Maude

4. You know, this is the way we eat in America. I got my meat, I got my potatoes, I got my vegetables, I got my dessert, and I don't even have to do dishes.
Stranger Than Paradise

5. Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something.
The Princess Bride

6. When you make up your mind, you lose your head.
Arsenic and Old Lace

7. We're not in infinity; we're in the suburbs.
I [Heart] Huckabees

8. Don't tell anyone you don't own "Blonde on Blonde". It's gonna be okay.
High Fidelity

9. Certainly it hurts... The trick is not minding that it hurts.
Lawrence of Arabia

10. On the run from Johnny Law, it ain't no trip to Cleveland.
Bottle Rocket

The stars are the apexes of what wonderful triangles!

2005-05-31T02:06:00.000-05:00

I know I said that I would be doing this regularly, and then promptly never did it again; however, better late than never, and so I bring you "Get To Know Your Peacemakers vol 2". Lately I have been reading a lot of...

Henry David Thoreau

Thoreau is probably most famous for the two years he spent at Walden Pond living out his eloquent experiment in simplicity. During this time Thoreau lived in a house he had built himself with the purpose of living independently from society. He chronicled this experience in "Walden". Thoreau is also famous for "Civil Disobedience", inspired by his own refusal to pay taxes which would support the Mexican War. He was sent to jail, but the next day a friend paid his fee and he was released. His ideas of peaceful protest were an inspiration to leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr. who stated "I became convinced that noncooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. No other person has been more eloquent and passionate in getting this idea across than Henry David Thoreau. As a result of his writings and personal witness, we are the heirs of a legacy of creative protest."

"As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives."

"Must the citizen ever for a moment, or in the least degree, resign his conscience to the legislator? Why has every man a conscience, then? I think that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The only obligation which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what I think right. Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice."

"The stars are the apexes of what wonderful triangles! What distant and different beings in the various mansions of the universe are contemplating the same one at the same moment! Nature and human life are as various as our several constitutions. Who shall say what prospect life offers to another? Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant? We should live all the ages of the world in an hour; ay, in all the worlds of the ages. History, poetry, mythology! - I know of no reading of another's experience so startling and informing as this would be."

"Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it."

the following contains very important information:

2005-05-13T10:13:00.000-05:00

I know you were all worried, but rest assured, I have it directly from The Great Red Bull himself...

Q: Is taurine made from bulls' testicles? Is taurine a derivative of bulls' testicles or semen?
A: Taurine is a purely synthetic substance produced by pharmaceutical companies and is not derived from animals or animal materials.

Thank God.

are you my linguistics paper?

2005-05-13T03:46:00.000-05:00

The Commercials Are Even Making Sense

seven minutes past three in the morning
do you know where your children are?
train station bathrooms belts around their upper arms
sand-soaked oil pits bleeding freedom
i get all the reality i need from my tv
bikini clad coke heads on sandy beaches
couples who always orgasm simultaneously
energy drinks are the sleep of the future
botox is just like being born again
at the right angle you can’t even tell the walls are fake
the trees made of paper mache
don’t want to be at the wrong angle do you?
over there your hair gets mussed
and there is no hope of syndication

this thing of ours

2005-05-13T02:04:00.000-05:00

leave the gun; take the cannoli.

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

this just in: "late night spent writing redbull-induced response to surrealist manifesto results in strange post-essay poetry"

2005-05-10T20:24:00.000-05:00

two to the illusion of one
thought like a green head ache
i reach for your hand writing stories of
thoughtful giants who drove buses while
allen ginsberg saw lamppost armies in the dark
just avoid the surrealist campsite with its
purple cloud tents & blue grass pits of feathered fish
there i eat spearmint kisses with your tongue
and autumns pass between the touching of our bodies
gentle acid rain falls outside from
guiltier clouds than the ones in our heads
and sheets turn into stars
flung hopelessly toward heaven
from arms bleeding air and emptiness
hungry to eat some fog of reality
as innocent pasts grow stale on the bedside table
next to half smoked glasses of wine

almost two months later...

2005-05-03T18:17:00.000-05:00

Greetings Faithful Reader! I hope that you have not given up on me. As a special treat I offer you...A Quiz! How much do you really know about me? Good Luck, Godspeed, Break a Leg, and all that stuff.

http://www.quizyourfriends.com/takequiz.php?quizname=050503191227-107651

a monday for peace

2005-03-07T16:30:00.000-06:00

in case it was not made obvious by my blogging, i was rather pissed off earlier today, but then i remembered some advice given to me by my high school bible/math teacher - "it is better to be pissed off than pissed on." how true. the world is not perfect: this is nothing new. i have decided for my own sanity that in response to the chaos that sometimes seems to overwhelm our world i am going to have a semi-regular "get to know your peacemakers" section. i'll find famous or not-so-famous peacemakers and let you all know a little more about them. let's begin with a man i only recently found out about through a lovely song by dar williams (thanks kevin). today's peacemaker is...

Father Daniel Berrigan

At the height of the Vietnam War, Daniel Berrigan, along with his brother Phillip and seven others, stole draft files in Catonsville, MD. They took the files out into the parking lot where they poured homemade naplam over them and set them on fire. For their actions, they were sentenced to serve time in a federal prison. It is not everyday two priests top the FBI's most wanted list. Berrigan never stopped though. Even prison couldn't keep him down, and he continued to protest and speak out against violence. I admire the courage it must have taken for him to stand up for his conviction that one could not be both pro-violence and pro-Christianity.

"One is called to live nonviolently, even if the change one works for seems impossible. It may or may not be possible to turn the US around through nonviolent revolution. But one thing favors such an attempt: the total inability of violence to change anything for the better"

"Sometime in your life, hope that you might see one starved man, the look on his face when the bread finally arrives. Hope that you might have baked it or bought or even kneaded it yourself. For that look on his face, for your meeting his eyes across a piece of bread, you might be willing to lose a lot, or suffer a lot, or die a little, even."

"We have assumed the name of peacemakers, but we have been, by and large, unwilling to pay any significant price. And because we want the peace with half a heart and half a life and will, the war, of course, continues, because the waging of war, by its nature, is total—but the waging of peace, by our own cowardice, is partial. So a whole will and a whole heart and a whole national life bent toward war prevail over the mere desire for peace…."

death be not proud

2005-03-02T11:40:00.000-06:00

we made it through the weekend without loosing any more beloved authors. it seemed almost strange not attending a wake monday. people so often die in threes that we were all a little scared. however, it seems like everyone survived the weekend. a toast to those we feared for most: Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Ray Bradbury, Kurt Vonnegut! and another to those we've recently lost: Arthur Miller, Hunter S. Thompson - for your voices, for your immortal words, we thank you.
requeiscat in pace

Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.
-Arthur Miller

The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
- Hunter S. Thompson

midnight is where the day begins

2005-02-24T10:39:00.000-06:00

awake at midnight, cross-legged in the floor with sunnie and chris (clark) surrounded by reese's pieces and books of poetry. the thunder rolls in. we turn on the flaming lips. go outside to dance in the rain. hold hands, spinning around in a circle as our attempts to sing "fight song" dissipate into giggles. back inside we read each other poetry and sunnie makes blueberry muffins. we catch a couple hours of sleep (but they are too small, so we throw them back and come home with empty nets). alarm clock. shower. breakfast at the aldridge building where we make up true stories about kerouac and cassady eating there. i can just see them:
jack all plaid shirt, black coffee, hangover, scrambled eggs
neal all energy, fingers drumming on the table, romancing the waitress.
dessert= benzedrine for two. back to the car. back on the road. back to our story...
two museums. van gogh, picasso, rauschenberg- the list goes on, i melt into a puddle of admiration. chihuly can only see his lovely glass with one eye. pity the soul of the artist who must wear an eyepatch. thrift stores. lazy drives through back streets and neighborhoods, past parks and memories. beautiful bookstore: smell the used volumes, touch the first edition kerouac. cold pizza left-over from lunch. i read ginsberg aloud in a parking lot under a street lamp (fitting). drive home, discussing who jack slept with (allen ginsberg? neal cassady?). perfect day.

3X7

2005-02-19T01:08:00.000-06:00

21 things that make me happy:

playing in the rain
reading poetry aloud with friends
writing
finding the kind of book you fall in love with after the first sentence
when a friendship reaches the point that you no longer need to speak to have a conversation
quoting Robert Frost with my dad on family hikes in the woods
seeing my brother Nathan grow up a little more all the time
the way my mother always encourages me to follow my dreams
road trips
the sound of fall leaves under your feet
making people mixed cds
doing cartwheels on a spring day
riding my bike through my neighborhood the way I did when I was a kid
being made a mixed cd
hot tea and a warm bath on a cold night
the knowledge that no matter what happens, I have family and friends that will be there for me
climbing trees
when you can really feel the presence of God
doing yoga
the smell of a good book
impromptu dancing

joie de la vie valentine

2005-02-15T08:45:00.000-06:00

Teresa (one of my professors) sent this to me as a kind of valentine to life. I thought it was fabulous.

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave
with the intention of arriving safely
in an attractive and well preserved body,
but rather to skid in sideways,
chocolate in one hand,
wine in the other,
body thoroughly used up,
totally worn out and screaming...
"HOLY SHIT - WHAT A RIDE!"

daily dodging cupid.

2005-02-14T12:03:00.000-06:00

There is a little contest at the writing center today regarding anti-love poetry. I'm not sure how anti-love my entry is, but it did allow me to vent about a certain pet peeve of mine...

Family Gathering #937
inevitable questions ensue
leaving me anxious like this is the Daily Double
all my money on the line and the subject is
Favourite Films of Quantum Physicists born after 1950
(but somehow worse
and don’t state your answer in the form of a question
and please pass the table salt Trebek)
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Have you met any nice boys?”
“Have you met any smart boys?”
Christmas Thanksgiving Birthdays
Why is it no one ever asks me
“Have you written anything new lately?”
“How do you feel about Bush’s new proposed budget?”
“What is it that really makes you happy?”
I guess there are some questions
they just aren’t ready to hear the answer to

This is a public service announcement...with guitar!

2005-02-10T16:47:00.000-06:00

Political venting all wrapped up in a tidy mixed cd.
See following playlist. Copies available on request.

Red, White, and Post-Inauguration-Day Blues
Know Your Rights - The Clash
The Revolution Starts Now - Steve Earle
America Is Not the World - Morrissey
Political Science - Randy Newman
Shell Petroleum Release (Bullshit) - Propaghandi
Radio Radio - Elvis Costello
1984 - David Bowie
Children of the Revolution - Gavin Friday and Bono
America Is - Violent Femmes
“Fish Cheer”/I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-To-Die Rag - Country Joe and The Fish
Sex With Your Parents - Lou Reed
Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival
In God’s Country - U2
The Star Spangled Banner - Jimi Hendrix
Revolution 1 - The Beatles
Pleasant Valley Sunday - The Monkees
Sam Stone - Laura Cantrell
The Times They Are A Changin’ - Bob Dylan
America - Simon and Garfunkel
Talkin’ About a Revolution - Tracy Chapman
Day After Tomorrow - Tom Waits
Road to Joy - Bright Eyes
Imagine - John Lennon

analyze this.

2005-02-09T09:36:00.000-06:00

This semester I am taking a creative writing: poetry course. The following poem was based around one of the exercises we have been trying out. I was pleasantly surprised with the results, as it turned out rather different from my usual writing. It still has to go through revision of course, but this is how it stands for now.

1:33 am takes a left turn
i have not come to shift
shifting shifted
steadily somnolent morphine drip
drink from the tao te ching and leave it
like an empty water glass on the nightstand
meaning hides from half-lidded eyes
a shift brings eyes to a close
eyes closing brings a shift
moon river flows out of a neighbor's turntable
under the door and floods the room
everything dissolves in water
but the fibonacci sequence floats
endless eddying spiral of
0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 ...
golden ratios and rectangles
is it the sound of one hand clapping
or one voice calling in the wilderness
thoughts shift in a warm dark pool
splash through puddles of golden silence
shifted shifting
i have not come to shift

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Allen Ginsberg

2005-02-07T15:59:00.000-06:00

let's not even talk about how long it's been since my last blog.

I have read "A Supermarket in California" a hundred times, and it has never made me cry before Saturday night. Sunnie and Chris (Clark) and I were all hanging out, taking turns reading poetry and writing poetry and reading the poetry we were writing. It was a beautiful beautiful evening. When I picked the above mentioned work I read it in a way that I never had before. I thought about the way that Ginsberg talks about Whitman and the way that we talk about Ginsberg (and the rest of the beats) and whether or not anyone would ever talk about us that way. I saw this chain of inspiration, this intense connection between us all; it moved me to tears.

for your reading pleasure:

A Supermarket in California
by Allen Ginsberg
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for
I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache
self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went
into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families
shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the
avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcia Lorca, what
were you doing down by the watermelons?

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,
poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery
boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the
pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans
following you, and followed in my imagination by the store
detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our
solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen
delicacy, and never passing the cashier.

Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in
an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the
supermarket and feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The
trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be
lonely.

Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love
past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher,
what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and
you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat
disappear on the black waters of Lethe?

No chili for you!

2004-12-15T21:18:00.000-06:00

Congratulations Roz. You were right, the white chili was the lie. I had actually never even heard of white chili until this year when my boss, Kevin, told me that it was something he ate every year after Thanksgiving. Everything else was true. Even the pie crust. I figured that would throw you all off. Can anyone picture me in the kitchen with my mom -kneading dough, rolling out, pinching up the edges to make a pretty crust? And yet, it's true. My brother and I have often had conflicts, Doug, but the worst that ever happened to him was the time I gave him a huge knot on side of his head. Or the time I shut his finger in the door. Both unintentional, by the way.

2004-12-13T20:34:00.000-06:00

Everyone has been going on and on with this "guess the lie" game. I suppose it is time for me to join in. To add my own spin to things, I will play a family tradition version. Below I have listed five traditions in my family: one of them is not true.

1. Every Thanksgiving my mother and I roll out homemade pie crusts together, just as she did with her mother, and her mother did with her's.

2. Every time we take a road trip we listen to The Highwaymen (a group made up of Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, and Waylon Jennings). My father and I sing along with all the songs.

3. My father's side of the family is infamous for the way they play card and board games. People yell, people threaten, and at least one person has gotten mad enough to leave the table in tears. No matter how bad it gets though, we continue to play every time we get together.

4. After every Thanksgiving, my mother makes "white chili" (so called because it is made with turkey, and a variety of white beans).

5. Every year when we decorate for Christmas, my brother and I argue over who will get to put the star on top of the tree. When I was younger this was my job; then since my brother was smaller it became his job. I always believed that if I argued about it every time then I would get to do it again. This year I finally reclaimed my position, since I am once again the littlest one.

Guess away.

strung out like a guitar

2004-12-12T17:36:00.000-06:00

I have learned a valuable lesson about uppers: they are the devil. At least when you are accidentally overdosing on them. From now on I promise to pay better attention to the warning labels on the backs of bottles. Who knew those were important? I won't go into all the details, lets just say that Thursday I had a lot to do and thought that taking some no-doz would be the answer. Well, it worked nicely for awhile, but then I started feeling sick. Really sick. I couldn't sit up without feeling nauseous, I couldn't walk to the bathroom without my heart pounding, and I couldn't stop shaking. I called in to work, and then called Sunnie to let her know I might not make it to the party we were going to later. I told her everything about how I was feeling. She said "I hate to tell you this, Sheridan, but you are strung out on uppers." This sounded much scarier than just thinking that I was a little ill from no-doz. In just a few minutes though, she was at my door with soup and chamomille tea telling me that I was going to eat, and I was going to drink the tea, and I was going to relax, and I was going to feel better in time for the party. Of course I also got a speech about the proper use of over-the-counter medicine. She was not as bad as my mother, who when I said "sick from some no-doz" seemed to hear "three-day coke binge". You'd have thought I was on speed or something. Oh well, all's well that ends well, as they say. I started feeling better, stopped shaking, and was able to get around in time to go eat sushi and go to the party. However, I do not believe I'll be taking no-doz again anytime soon...or ever.

when sleeping with a dead author is not necrophilia

2004-12-05T19:10:00.000-06:00

I guess I might as well admit it now: I have a crush on Jack Kerouac. He was beautiful and brilliant and tragic. I never really planned on posting my own stuff on here as it feels shamelessly self-promotive, but I don't have much to talk about today. Here it goes, a tribute of sorts to my lovely beat writer.

Last Night I Slept With Jack Kerouac

Last night I slept with Jack Kerouac.
I picked him up and we had dinner.
It was just ramen noodles at my place,
but he didn’t mind.
I ran my fingers over the ridges in his spine,
delicately tracing lines.
Once in bed he really opened up
and I began to feel
(despite the countless boys and girls
who knew him long before I had)
that he was speaking just to me.
I finally fell asleep curled up with
one hand resting on him.
I dreamt of long car rides, woke up,
and realized I had lost my place.

punctuation vigilantes

2004-12-01T22:35:00.000-06:00

People have still been complaining about how little I blog, despite the fact that I have reminded them that it is quality, not quantity that counts. I can only assume that they simply cannot get enough of my brilliant, witty repertoire.

A panda walks into a cafe. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun a fires two shots in the air.
"Why?" asks the confused waiter, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.
"I'm a panda," he says, at the door. "Look it up."
The waiter turns to the relevant entry and, sure enough, finds an explanation.
"Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves."

I think this is hilarious. Of course, I am an English major. It is this punchline that provides the title for a most brilliant book. If you are the sort of person who often suffers mental anguish over poor punctuation in public places, then run for a copy of Lynne Truss's "Eats, Shoots & Leaves". Finally, I realize that certain friends of mine and I are not alone in our frustration over the utter disregard with which people treat the written form of the language that they speak (though it could easily be argued that many of these people cannot really speak English any more than they can write it). Oh, the number of times I have longed to attack signs with sharpie markers. Here at last is someone who not only understands that longing, but encourages acting on it. Look out, for soon there may be punctuation vigilantes skulking about Ada at night armed for correction!

how to make an "alexander"

2004-11-26T15:17:00.000-06:00

in shaker add one part Braveheart, one part HenryV, two parts VelvetGoldmine, and just a small dash of history over three cubes of ice
shake vigorously until well-blended
pour into one chilled cocktail glass
garnish with OliverStone zest

drink with caution and don't say I didn't warn you.

I love having Jolena with me when I go to see bad movies. Who else would laugh with me at the excessive moaning of the wounded? Or Alexander's little wind-in-the-hair, rose-petals-in-the-face moment? Really, that was just ridiculous. He looked like an ad for body wash. Then there were all the parts where we really weren't sure which movie we were watching ("Look! The guys are wearing short skirts and all the Mesopotamians have Irish/Scottish accents, when did this become Braveheart?" -- "Is it just me, or is this battle scene a little too Henry V? But then why do Alexander's speeches suck so much?" -- "Look at the excessive make-up and guys making out with each other all over the place. I'm having Velvet Goldmine flashbacks. Oh my God, it's Jonathan Rhys-Myers in glitter! Where's Ewan McGregor when you need him?"). I refuse to see another bad movie just because I'm going with a group. Unfortunately, I've said that before...

the long-awaited third post.

2004-11-26T09:55:00.000-06:00

Okay, I know that it has been a v. long time since my last post. I am not good at keeping up these kinds of things, but I promise, I will try to do better. I'll make it my Thanksgiving resolution or something.

Here, for your reading pleasure, is a quick, though lengthy, overview on what all you've missed out on.

First I ... went to New Orleans, ate at a resteraunt Bono had eaten in, had beignets and chicory coffee at Cafe Du Monde, walked around the French Quarter, saw Anne Rice's home, tried to take pictures of tombs, went to Bourbon Street, really liked Pat O'Brians and the doorman there who let me in through the back despite my age, ate the best and most expensive meal I've ever had in my life at Brennan's, did the whole conference thing, went back to Bourbon Street, danced with two old ladies from England, hung out with the guys we shared our presentation time with, had a deep and lengthy theological discussion, got up early and went back to Bourbon Street to take pictures, nearly threw up from the smell, started the long drive home, nearly threw up because Carol did, surprised Kevin by knowing all the words to "Plastic Jesus"

And then I ... tried out for an indie film with Sunnie, went to classes, ditched classes, wrote papers, discussed "The Whore of MENSA" with Dr. Parkhill, blushed when he started yelling "Kafka, Kaaafka" orgasmically at me as I walked down the hall, had a talk with my eng. major friends in which we decided that everyone on the third floor of Horace Mann had lost their minds, attended a poetry/prose reading at which I read my short story "How to Leave Your Husband", watched U2 on SNL, was asked by Jolena whether Bono was drunk, cited myself as a source for an annotated bibliography, burned a lot of new music from Chris, went with Lauren (liked we'd planned years ago) at midnight to pick up the new U2 at Hastings, was asked "what's a U2?" by check-out girl, was flattered to find myself in one of my friend's short stories, sang impromptu semi-karaoke with Sunnie and April, once again made use of Sunnie's futon, and the next morning drove home to begin Thanksgiving break.

That brings us up within the last couple of days. It's not everything, but it's the stuff that stuck out as I was quickly running through the last few weeks. Hope you all enjoyed it; at least you can no longer gripe at me for not posting.

cold hands, warm hearts...

2004-11-07T16:19:00.000-06:00

www.marryanamerican.ca - Our friendly neighbors in the frozen North have taken pity on the desperate, discouraged Dems of America and are offering us refuge through marriage. According to the website, they "envision a movement where everyone wins: Freedom of expression and a politically convenient marriage with love and igloos for all." I'm not signing up just yet, but it is nice to be aware of one's options. ;)

democrat: heal thyself

2004-11-04T22:33:00.000-06:00

I would love to start this off with some well-worded political rant about the fact that Coburn is now representing us, Republicans have taken control of the Senate, and we are all going to be subjected to four more years of Bush/Cheney; however, I simply do not feel like it. This election seems to have drained me of my previous politcal fervor. I'm sure it will return, but for now I think Maureen Dowd put it best when she described Kerry giving his concession speech "with the Democatic party splattered at his feet in litte blue puddles." Yes, that just about sums it up. Here's to 2008!