bam.

I have fifteen minutes to crank out something meaningful; makeshift Dobs beckons as I type. I've been trying as of late to get all of my ducks in a row.

I have emailed and emailed and emailed Karrah from Cedar Point about these nuisance part-time after-summer shifts I said yes to during the phone interview. Instead of working 10 weekends after school starts, I've talked my way down to 5.

I've filled out all of the necessary paperwork and chatted with all of the necessary people in order to apply for my psych minor, which is now showing up on my degree audit.

I have set up psych studies, and am weaseling my way into the realm of extra credit for many of my classes just because.

I spoke in class today.

Let's see. I conquered a test yesterday, I'm going to suffer through another one tomorrow, along with handing out my next to last fiction piece for workshop - which is interesting, to say the least.

I leave on a (jet) plane on Friday at 1:30pm and nothing seems more magnificent than that right now.

Well, pasta station is calling me from down the hill. Has it been fifteen minutes?

Forward Sailing

The weekend is finally here. It seems to have taken its good 'ole time this week. Goodness!

It's definitely a coffeeshop weekend. I can feel it. The yummy aromas, the mellow atmosphere... like I've said before, I just can't get enough of it.

Some things I'm looking forward to this weekend (and upcoming week):

• Movies. Lots of them.
• Everwood.
• Time to clear my head and write my workshop piece.
• I don't want to say this because it's 86% lie, but working out. (kind of)
• Chicago in one week.
• Seeing my dad for the first time since HS graduation.
• Being an Ingrid junkie for the 3rd time in about five months.
• Flying. I heart planes.
• Sending my work out to Lit. Journals. Kickin' some (ass). Pardon my lingo.
• Reading one of my guilty-pleasure authors. ;)

Gros bisous et beaucoup d'amour

{lines 31-36 of Komunyakaa's "My Father's Love Letters"}

This man,
Who stole roses & hyacinth
For his yard, would stand there
With eyes closed & fists balled,
Laboring over a simple word, almost
Redeemed by what he tried to say.

random;

1. Priorities need set. Immediately.

2. Who am I kidding?

3. Here's an equation for you:

Heart (which is) > Mind {does not overpower anything} + no sleep = irrationality and euphoria.

4. There is no four. I'm not even sure what this list is compiled of.

5. I schedule tomorrow!

Disclosure:

I'm sitting in my bra right now because my apartment is so freakin' stuffy.

We might as well not have any windows. :(

Observ(e) Vations.

If everything happens for a reason, then wondering only hurts, or maybe it pushes us in a different direction?

Oh, the puzzle of boys and girls.

No, we don't have all the answers, but why live if we did?

There must be an even mix of straight-forwardness and hint-y pushes for anything to work. This balance, however, seems like a rarity.

There is a time for everything, and I know this. But that doesn't change the fact that when people say "It will happen in its own time", I want to slap someone. Maybe it won't happen at all.

Certain conversations need to be had, just as certain opinions need to be expressed.. but isn't running away more exhilarating? Maybe I don't want to hear what you are telling me.

Is there even a league? And if there is one, does this mean you're out of mine, or vice versa?

I love dark chocolate. That's a clever observation/statement now, isn't it?

{The back of a Dove dark chocolate wrapper that I just opened}: Moments like these need to be savored.

...she must have not just had my same moment.

Sometimes, putting something in writing is really the only way to get your point across. Words spoken sting, but they also quiver, and yeah, quivering words can be cute...but really? There is genius in boldness, no? If the spoken word can't be bold, I like to fall back on the written word.

A few words from Billy Joel that have very little to do with the written word? "Slow down, you're doing fine. You can't be everything you want to be before your time, although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight."

I love Billy.

Baby Me....

I just don't think too much has changed over the years... do you?

suga suga how you get so fly?

I went with my sister to get braces today. I re-lived all of my own horrific experiences over the course of 3 metal-mouth years and cringed as she sat up and said, "Well, that didn't hurt!"

Gritting my own teeth, I smiled, nodded my head like the wise old sister should, and thought to myself, you just wait. Wait until your teeth start shifting in your mouth. Wait until you go for the bi-monthly tightening. Wait. Wait.

They have these new and improved braces out that are just metal without the color. Apparently they are smaller and more compact, but I couldn't tell the difference. They still take up the whole tooth. They still sport the same wires and brackets and goofy, more metal less enamel smile.

Can you tell I despised my brace-face years? I had rubber bands that attached from the top bracket to the bottom. I also wore ugly glasses that took up too much of my face, bifocals that made my eyes ten sizes too big, and I think those were also the years that boys started to matter. Braces were not the worst of my troubles back then, but they added to the nice little compilation I had going.

Now. Now I rub my tongue across my teeth and always smile way more than I should, if only to prove that my living hell is now over. I grew up.

I watched from the driver's seat mirror as my sister ran her tongue from one end of her mouth to the other in sheer fascination. She did this for a half hour straight.

You just wait, I told her. Although the words never left my lips, she looked up and smiled at me. Just wait.

This blog post cost me $137.50.

{{Situation}}

About half-way home from Behrend into the arms of Spring Break, small-towns jog past, and I have not looked at my speedometer in, oh, about ten minutes. I'm in a trance-like stupor, hungry, music is loud and I'm alone. Cop blares siren and lights, heart pounds, and I pull over.

{{Conversation - what I think is not what I say}}

Cop: "How are you doing today?"

Me: You've got to be kidding me. Ugh. "Fine! Great. How about yourself?"

Cop: "Do you know why I stopped you?"

Me: Oh no. He knows about my broken taillight. I was going to get it fixed, I was going to go tomorrow! Maybe if I can just talk my way out of this, I won't get fined. They can't pull you over for broken taillights, can they? "No."

Cop: "You were going 69 in a 55."

Me: Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrap. Does he know about my taillight? Should I flip my hair or beg? What works best? This guy seems nice. Maybe he'll... "Oh. Sorry."

Cop: "Where are you coming from?"

Me: "Penn State Behrend. In Erie. I'm coming home for spring break." Ughhhhh. Why did I add in the part about spring break? Now he thinks I'm one of those speedy boozers who is jetting off to Cancun or something to pick up shady men and more alcohol than one person should ever consume. And I am not! I'm just going hoooooomeeee.... maybe if I tear up...? Think unhappy thoughts, think unhappy thoughts..

Cop: "Stay in the car, please. I'll be right back."

Me: Maybe he'll be generous. He knows I'm a college student. He knows I can't afford this crap. I smiled, I might have flipped my hair a little, I was extra polite. How can he not let me off easy?

...Why is everyone staring? You'd of thought they had never seen Cops or some other trashy jail show. It's not like I'm standing outside with my hands on my head.

...I wish he would turn off those lights. They are attracting wayyyy too much attention.

...Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

...I can't afford this. What the hell. Nothing like putting a damper on my week off.

...Sooooooo hungry. Maybe I have a mint somewhere? That might hold me over for another two hours. Whhhhhy didn't I pack any snacks?

{{Situation, again}}

I realize that I'm parked directly across from a church. There is a blinking sign right next to the parking lot that demands my attention.

Live what you say you believe

I slam my head against the seat and sigh. This is a sign. Of course. There couldn't be a better truth flashing at me while I sit and wait for the cop to hand me some damage.

{{Conversation, again}}

Cop, 20 excruciating minutes later: "I wrote you a citation for speeding. You'll find all the information and the ticket price at the bottom. You have ten days to pay or we'll send out a warrant for your arrest, so I suggest paying as soon as possible."

Me: ... now doesn't that seem a little excessive?

Me: "Okay. Thank you!" Wow. I actually thanked the man. I need some sleep. And some food. I'm being absurd. %#@&.

Cop: "Drive safe now, okay?"

Me: grumble, grumble, grumble. I really should get that taillight fixed...

Insight as it presents itself

It took me at least the past six years to learn that if people want to be with you, they will. They will give up things and make time and persist (isn't persistence the key?) to hang out, even if only for a little while. Jumping through hoops is more than a lousy figure of speech, you know.

Sounds like common sense, but I don't think it's the fact that everyone already knows this; it's more the fact that we disregard it and choose to believe that people are really busy, too busy even to make time for us. Too busy to call. Too busy to care.

There is always time to pick up the phone, to write a quick email or letter, to stop by in passing.

If people want to be with you, I really do think they will do anything they can to make it happen. They sure as hell don't make excuses for every asking. This I know for sure.

sugary goodness.

I had a funky dream last night. It involved Charlie the Unicorn cookies at Romolos, and singing "Little Romance" and holding hands. And then I woke up to snow drifts.

Lovely, indeed.