a case of you [james blake]

found this little treasure today.
i hope it gives you the same shivers it gave me.

my life in bullet points

based on my last post and my six-month absence from blogging ever since, you might have begun to think that the rapture actually did happen. while i wish i had an apocalyptic excuse for my neglect of our heart to hardt, i don't. (unless you consider five upper-division courses, two jobs, and work on my teaching credential apocalyptic). nevertheless, here is my obligatory "don't worry, i'm still alive" post and a brief, bullet-pointed update on my life:

• nathan and i celebrated 5 years together (i love that man more than ever)
• got in on a styffe family vacation, yosemite style

• had some adventures in the beaver state
• i turned twenty-two
• i have a new roommate, in the form of a very old, very good friend
• substitute taught for a 10th grade english class (scary, but amazing)
• i've been accepted to a teach conversational english in asia this summer and can't wait to fill you in on all the details
  

welp, it's six o'clock on may twenty-first and the rapture hasn't happened.
tough break, harold camping. maybe the myans will have better luck next december.

"october fullness" by pablo neruda
[quite possibly my new favorite poem]

little by little, and also in great leaps,
life happened to me,
and how insignificant this business is.
these veins carried
my blood, which i scarcely ever saw,
i breathed the air of so many places
without keeping a sample of any.
in the end, everyone is aware of this:
nobody keeps any of what he has,
and life is only a borrowing of bones.
the best thing was learning not to have too much
either of sorrow or of joy,
to hope for the chance of a last drop,
to ask more from honey and more from twilight.

perhaps it was my punishment.
perhaps i was condemned to be happy.
let it be known that nobody
crossed my path without sharing my being.
i plunged up to the neck
into adversities that were not mine,
into all the sufferings of others.
it wasn't a question of applause or profit.
much less. it was not being able
to live or breathe in this shadow,
the shadow of others like towers,
like bitter trees that bury you,
like cobblestones on the knees.

our own wounds heal with weeping,
our own wounds heal with singing,
but in our own doorway lie bleeding
windows, indians, poor men, fishermen.
the miner's child doesn't know his father
amidst all that suffering.

so be it, but my business
was
the fullness of the spririt:
a cry of pleasure choking you,
a sigh from an uprooted plant,
the sum of all action.

it pleased me to grow with the morning,
to bathe in the sun, in the great joy
of sun, salt, sea-light and wave,
and in that unwinding of the foam
my heart began to move,
growing in that essential spasm,
and dying away as it seeped into the sand.

to travel

i try but fail to contain my devastating desire to travel. somewhere, anywhere. i am engulfed in the urge to see and experience all things new. i need my breath to be taken away by something bigger than poetry and pictures. i want to be in a place, have an adventure, that stirs in me the need to create literature and art of my own. i feel like finding myself and losing myself amidst landscapes that swallow me whole and architecture that bewilders me. i am eager to absorb a culture; eastern, western. it makes no difference. i long for the goosebumps and heart-skips that the wonders of the world have given me before. i want to, need to, deeply desire to travel. somewhere. anywhere. please.

a terrorist dies, america cheers, and i write a blog

my heart is conflicted on a daily basis. but tonight it is torn in two pieces. two pieces that have been thrown on opposite sides of a great, tall wall. osama bin laden has been killed, and i can almost hear the unanimous roar of american pride resounding through the nation. in fact, i can hear it. loud and clear. my t.v. is on in the background, and america' s voice is coming through the speakers chanting, "U-S-A! U-S-A!" but i've found myself incapable of cheering along.

i love my country; really, i do. and i so understand and even feel the sense of justice pulsing through the veins of the united states. this country lost thousands of lives at the hands of terrorism and bin laden. he has been the face of the enemy, of evil, of terrorism these past ten years. and for many, his death represents a victory over all of those. but in the midst of all the hype, all the congratulations and hoo-rahs, i can't help but stop and wonder if god would be chanting too, would be high-fiving america. i sort of doubt it.

people might find me insane, may call me crazy, but after hearing president obama's address to the nation, i took a moment to think about what had happened, to think about osama bin laden, and out of the blue popped psalms 139 into my mind. bin laden was a child of god. he was "fearfully and wonderfully made." i mean, wasn't he? i know it sounds unfathomable, but i believe it's true. and no matter how utterly monsterous the man was, god still loved osama bin laden. i mean, didn't he?

i'm not saying that i am mourning the man's death. far from it. there's a part of me--you know, the other side of my heart on the other side of the wall--that's glad he's dead. that is relieved that he's gone. that finds justice in his death. i read a quote tonight, some words of mark twain that resonated with me: "i've never wished a man dead, but i have read some obituaries with great pleasure." i want to embrace that pleasure. i wish i could. but i don't think i'll be shouting "U-S-A!" and fist-bumping america. at least, not with my whole heart.

these three poets belong on my book shelf.
why they aren't there already is a mystery to me...

langston hughes

e. e. cummings

robert frost

"the minute i heard my first love story
i started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.

lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
they're in each other all along."

- - - - -

"we weep God's rain.
we laugh God's lightning."

- - - - -

"listen to the presences inside poems,
let them take you where they will.

follow those private hints,
and never leave the premises"

- - - - -

-rumi, selected poems

seven days, four states, one spring break

it's that time of year, and spring break has sprung again. that is, it sprang last week and has now wilted away, leaving behind only memories, photographs, and a good amount of home work that i neglected on my many days off. last year, i literally stayed in my pajamas 99% of the time and embraced every moment of rest and relaxation that seven days without school provided. however, this year, i nixed the r & r and spent my break state-hopping and adventure-having on the east coast. we (varying combinations of alanna, jared, nikki, claudia, and myself) ate cupcakes in georgetown; road-tripped to new york, where we frolicked through the city streets and took in a goose-bump-giving production of phantom of the opera; made a pit stop in philidelphia to eat some cheesestake and put on our best rocky impressions; consumed large amounts of country cuisine at cracker barrel (in virginia and new jersey); explored the smithsonians and beheld the monuments in washington d.c.; and had an all around wonderful time experiencing new places and reexperiencing old ones.

d.c. cupcakes in georgetown

smithsonian the monument & me
philidelphia: the windy city. ...oh wait, that's chicago? are you sure?

rocky!conquering the rocky steps
30 rock-yum!

poison & wine [the civil wars]

this song is just too beautiful not to share.

happy birthday dr. seuss

"today you are you, that is truer than true. there is no one alive who is youer than you." -dr. seuss

(shell silverstein and dr. seuss? this bookshelf has my heart)

if he were still around, theodor seuss geisel would turn 104 today. i wish rather badly that the man were still here, to fill more pages with silly scribblings and imaginative stories and rhymes. nevertheless, he's left behind some wonderful work and some thoughtful thoughts, and i love them all quite a lot. so thanks, dr. seuss & happy birthday.

remember the days?

remember the days i used to blog? let me be the first to admit that i not only failed my new year's resolution of being a better blogger, but that i've been a worse blogger in the past couple months than i've ever been before. it's no coincidence that the posts stopped the first week of the spring semester. upper division classes and a dedication to graduating summa cum laude have pushed blogging down on the priority list, among other things.

but don't worry, my other commitments will not keep me from blogging entirely. i have a week off of school starting saturday, and will be flying to the wonderful world of washington...dc that is. i'll be spending time with the dearest alanna moine, nikki lalague, and claudia iglesias whilst exploring the nation's capitol. i'm hoping that at some point over the break i'll be able to catch up on all the things i've been wanting to share with you, as well as blog about the trip itself. so, here's to hoping for some down time, some blog time. in the mean time, here's a few posts sitting in my "drafts" pile, just waiting to be published, to be part of this heart to hardt:

+TAG: a new transfer student program at plnu
+slow-cooking sundays: my crock-pot and me
+journey: my new home church!

l-o-v-e

i am in love with a wonderful man. and i adore the fact that there is a day to celebrate him, and us, and our love.

i also happen to be in love with my friends and my family and all those people who i might not kiss on the mouth but still hold close to my heart. so, don't feel left out. this day is for you, too.

most of all, though, this day (like any other day) is about our god; he's the one who made love possible in the first place. and i for one am so grateful that he did.

"we love because he first loved us" -1 john 4:19

happy valentine's day. i hope that your day is filled with loving others and feeling loved. and maybe some chocolate and flowers and cards, too.

“justice at its best is love correcting all that stands against love.”–Martin Luther King Jr.

silence

10. which is worse, being in a
place that is too loud, or too quiet?

i am all about silence. all. about. it. in my opinion, there is no such thing as too quiet. in fact, it's difficult for me to function when i'm surrounded by noise. things like reading and writing, and sleeping and thinking become impossible for me unless it's utterly silent. the more quiet, the better. too loud, on the other hand? there are plenty of things that are too loud. the screaming, shouting, grunting boys that play football outside my window, for example. or the drummer who lives on the other side of my wall and likes to host band practice at my expense. apartment complexes in general--too loud. don't get me wrong, i love where i live. but i also love silence.

i am not affianced

9. how long was it from 'the first date' until the proposal of marriage? how long until the wedding?

this questionnaire seems to be under the impression that i am engaged. i hate to break it to you, survey, but the diamonds and white gold on my left hand is a purity ring, not an engagement ring. and though i've been dating the same guy for four and a half years, he remains to be merely my boyfriend and not my fiance. i could see why you might be confused, though, and so i'll let it slide. but i expect you to remember from now on that i am not affianced.

ready or not

it's that time again. winter break is over as classes begin at 8:30 tomorrow morning. one thing i've found is that the start of spring semester never has the same romantic air to it as that of the fall semester. it very well may be because we've already just spent four months with our noses in books, and the thought of doing it some more so soon seems daunting rather than rousing. three weeks away from school, papers, and tests is not enough time to come to miss it. over summer, when those weeks become months, we begin to forget the headaches and stresses of school, and find ourselves ready and excited to fill our brains with new curricula by the end of it. there's also something about september that just makes a person feel scholarly. whether it be the changing air and leaves that we associate with freshly sharpened pencils and new notebooks, the back-to-school sales that help ease us in the the academic mind set, or what have you. january doesn't just doesn't help build the same anticipation. it leaves us missing the holiday season more than the classroom. at least, that's how i feel. with all that said, i may not feel ready to go back to class, or wake up at 7am, or write papers and take tests. but i am ready to learn more, grow more, and take in all this semester has to offer. ready or not, spring semester, here i come.

rock, paper, scissors

8. rock, paper, or scissors?

rock. ...definitely rock. most people pick scissors. maybe it's because it's the word you say while you decide which weapon you're going with, who knows. but that seems to be the case. so, the majority of the time i've found that paper loses, scissors ties, and rock wins. rock always (okay, usually) wins. also, do you realize how silly it is to believe paper could destroy rock? it's completely unrealistic. it's no wonder that the name of the game starts with rock. rock is just the best. i choose rock.

captain hook

7. what do you think captain hook's name was before he had a hook for a hand?

my theory, and you might disagree, is that his name was captain hook all along, even before the tragic loss of his hand. see, i think that he replaced his hand with a hook because of his name, to provide a visual representation of who he was. rather than being named for the hook, the hook was created for him. i mean, that's what makes the most sense. why else would someone want a hook for a hand? there are so many more advantageous items that could've been used instead. if his name was captain back scratcher, he would never again have an itch he couldn't scratch. captain bubble gum machine? he would've been much more well-liked by children. a pen would've been my first choice--how handy would it be to have one at all times rather than digging around in a desk drawer or purse? a hammer, screw driver, or ruler all might have come in more handy than a hook. and, needless to say, it would've been a lot easier for everyone had his name been captain hand. i know it may be a long shot, but that's my theory and i'm sticking with it.

messy or clean?

6. are you messy or clean?

my friends have told me that i look like a clean person. upon first meeting me, people seem to assume i'm a neat freak. take one look at my hand writing, and you might feel the same (it's often been compared to computer typing). there are some other things about me that are very put together. however, take one look at my car or my room, and you will instantly feel much, much differently. in short, i am messy. very, very messy. cleaning just doesn't come naturally to me. i never grew up in a home where having a tidy room was a necessity nor a priority. i also don't mind messes. it doesn't bother me to have clothes all over the floor or my bed unmade for weeks on end. and while i'm content with being a messy person, i also realize that it's something i should work on. if you saw my new years resolutions, then you saw that this is an area of my life that i know needs some change. so, ask me this question again in a year and i hope to give you a much, much different answer.