Maybe I've got this in me after all.

Now, to get the rest of my life in order...

and that tune...

*boom boom*
There goes my heart,
My cheeks flush with each cymbal crash, each high note,
The kind that makes the hairs on your neck rise up toward the God who lent them that voice,
And those words.

Oh, those words.
I wish I'd never heard them,
or let them sweep me off my feet.
I can't get his melody out of my mind, his chords,
They resonate.
Long after the power gets shut off, the lights dimmed,
They echo here. With all of the passion that went with them.

He was too good with his words,
Knew how to take his lyrics,
And left them higher. Lift me higher.

I think only he knew,
How far they would make me fall.

I need to be inspired.

Life...hit me with some brilliance.

Don't give up quite yet.

Yes, I am taking a study break to post this. Why? Because I stumbled across this poem while I was reviewing poetry, and fell in love with it. It's a bit on the long side...but this set of lines really struck me...and I wanted to share them.

From T.S. Eliot's "East Coker (Num. 2 of the Four Quartets)"

"...So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years—
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres
Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate—but there is no competition—
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious.
But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying.
The rest is not our business...."

If you can't laugh at your family, who else can you laugh at?

My entire family is sick, thanks to the snot-nosed, here-let-me-throw-up-on-you children that my mom sees in the pediatrician's office where she works. We are all congested to the brim...I'd like to think that we have become one big, gooey loogie.

With four people sick in one house with the SAME thing, certain household materials that would normally bring one person relief have become rare, precious commodities. Namely, tea, honey, and COUGH DROPS.

My brother and I got into a huge fight over who ate the last one (it was me, but who needs to know?!). And the second my mom found three cough drops hidden in the basket of crap lying next to her bed, we were ready to engage in a no holds-barred fight to the death for them.

Instead, we exchanged cough drops for the completion of various household chores. While I was scrambling to think of something, I calmly handed over my prized cough drop to my mother...once she reminded me that SHE had been the one to pick up my dog's poop after he shat all over the kitchen this morning while I left for work, laughing.

My mom, she wins. As for me, I'm just glad to see that in the midst of all this studying and guard rehearsing (not to mention missing an unnamed redhead who is probably relaxed as all hell at a freaking vineyard right now), I can still find some time to laugh. And write.

I am off to find some more buried treasure (read: red cherry cough drops).

Sort of a surprise, really.

That I've missed him as much as I have. A mere four days...and I am really looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. I wasn't expecting to feel all this fuzzy stuff with anyone so soon. I am allowing myself to enjoy it. I don't really care what happens to us in six months, or even where we'll be in a week...but I'm living in the little moments, and loving the hell out of them.

The Friday Five---to counteract the bitch-fest

1. If you could change one life-changing event in the life of someone important to you, would you?
Yeah, I think I'd send Liz to Emerson ASAP...despite the fact that I'd miss out on another year of her being at home, I know how much she wants to get out of here.
2. Which do you think is easier to do, being friends for many years, or being life partners for many years?
Life partners. Your friends don't have to wake up next to you every morning.
3. Have you ever walked away from someone you considered a friend?
Yes. Hard, but also incredibly necessary.
4. If you had to choose between telling the truth and hurting a friend or lying and making them happy, which would you choose?
This is admittedly a hard one for me. I think at this stage in my life, I would go for truth and hope that what I said wouldn't cost me the friendship. I used to lie just to please people, until it happened to me.
5. Which would you rather hear--the truth which will hurt, or the comforting lie?
The truth that will hurt. I've heard too many comforting lies. Truth I can bounce back from. Dishonesty, I can't.

bitch-fest.

I'm sick, I'm on my period, I have to study all week, I have to work every day, my best friend is on vacation, and I probably won't be able to see my boyfriend until after I take the Praxis II on Saturday.

Life is great right now.

Fuck this.

Time Management

Or the lack thereof. Somewhere between work, colorguard, studying, the new boyfriend, and my other friends, I have to find time for me. Haze is running on thin ice, people.

Although, I must say how fucking sick and tired I am of people giving me grief because they haven't seen me in a few weeks. I can't be everything to everyone all the time. I work everyday, I am trying to put together a kick-ass colorguard show for the fall, and I have a very important test to take in the next week and half, one that will determine whether or not I get my teacher's license after graduation. It's too much.

So please, cut me some goddam slack.

I hate studying for this test. I feel totally inept.

Hey, PRAXIS II? Yeah. Screw you.

7/4...and a life metaphor.

It was raining. Hard. The air pressed in thick against my skin. I felt hopeless, wondering if we would ever see sunshine. I worried that our plans would be ruined by the weather. More than anything, though, I was frustrated because it was all just so out of my control.

We were soaked, cold, and annoyed with the way the day had gone. His car got towed, I would spend two hours on the road driving him back and forth, and to top it off, the grey skies just kept dumping their wet misery on us.

When the colors exploded above us, I nuzzled into him. We both had hoodies on. There's nothing better than cuddling in sweatshirts. I lived in the moment. And it felt good to just be there. With him. Right then.

They say we should sit and wait for the fireworks, and the magic, to come to us. I think sometimes, we create them ourselves.