Two more translations and one essay.

When are you going to come back to my cabin, sit down by the fire, and be my love again?

This line has been stuck in my head all day.  Partly because the melody is catchy but partly because the idea is catchy.  This is how I’m feeling.  Not so much about any particular person.  Just about…a feeling.  It finally feels like spring today.  Things are slowly starting to turn green.  The sky is blue.  The sun is shining.  Its just a hint of that feeling I’ve been looking for.  For which I’ve been looking.  A glimpse of that sepia-toned life.  Of the sounds of waves crashing on the shore and wind blowing through the grass that plays on the soundtrack in the background of my life.  I can’t think of any time I’ve ever fully experienced that feeling.  But I’ve caught glimpses.  And there must be some point just out of reach where I did experience it or how could I recognize it so strongly?  And when is that feeling going to come back, sit down by the fire, and make itself at home?

I’m a romantic.

‘Tis good, Lord, to be here, Yet we may not remain.

One of my friend’s recently wrote a blog post about mattering.  At the end of the post she wrote “You matter. Whether others reinforce that fact or not, it’s true.”  And it made me think about truth.  Then I  looked at the title of the post which was “It’s good to be here.” And that made me think about goodness.  And how often, the truest things are also the things that are good.  And when I say true, I hope you know what I mean.  That feeling of truth, when deep in your chest, in the deepest pit of your stomach, you just feel this lift, this feeling of “yes”.  A feeling of both peace and excitement.  And so many things in life that give me an opposite feeling seem to be more true.  The things that drag me down.  That exhaust me.  That weigh me down.  But they aren’t really true.  Because what is true is what is good.

But since you bid us leave the mount, Come with us to the plain.

Walking into moonlight, lady.

Yesterday I had a dilemma.  I have lots of lettuce in my fridge and lots of raw green beans.  Both of these will go bad if not used promptly.  And I’m going to be gone all weekend.  I hate to waste good green vegetables.  So I had a big salad last night. And some more lettuce for breakfast. I decided I’d take care of the green beans by eating a TON of green beans for lunch.  Packed up a big bag of them, took them to work.  Nomming on those suckers right now.  Delicious, don’t get me wrong, but man, my jaw is sore from chomping green beans.  If eating green beans is practically a workout, I think I’d better start hitting the gym…Yikes.

Also…it’d be nice to know what I’ll be doing come May.  I’m just ready for some direction.  Still haven’t heard from SLU, ISU, or NIU.  Don’t know where I’ll be working this summer.  Haven’t finished stuff for my trip to Leone.  I mean…its fine. I’m doing fine.  I’m just getting tired of waiting.  I need a win.

I like people in theatre because they never stop saying “when I grow up…”

One thing about me that I’m really working to change is how easily I get stressed out.  Meditating on wu wei (or Pooh wei, Jeremy) helps.  TGTB always helps, obvy.  A walk outside helps.

Today I was stressed.  I didn’t need Girl Scout cookies or perspective.  Just some humour.   And then I remembered I hadn’t looked at bug comic for a few days.  And it was the bessssssssst.

Arr! Hand over all yer granola and lava lamps ye scurvy dogs!

Blessed are the makers of peace.

I know everything is everything so I guess I’ll stay the same. TGTB

I want to run away from popular culture.  I’m so tired of the way things seem to be.  I want everything to be at once fierce and gentle.  Bold but good.  Vibrant and deep.  I want my life to be in sepia tones.  I want perfection and I don’t care if that’s not real.  I want life to have a screenplay.  I don’t want to only think of the right thing to say as you walk away.  I want my hair to only blow in my face if it looks poetic. I want my lips to be the perfect shade of maroon.  I want my light fixtures to be stained glass and have no dead bugs inside.  I want my life to be in technicolor.

Call me a petulant child.  Or call me a dreamer.  Maybe only children remember how to dream.

I should know…

I could go for some cliffs right about now.  Some cliffs and some green.  Wind whipping my hair, my clothes.  I’d stand right on the edge and look down to see the waves pounding against hard rock, worn away by time and fury.  I’d look up and dream of how it would feel to be a bird, soaring off those cliffs, diving down to touch the water and then returning to red tinged skies.  I’d wish I could jump, with no consequences.  To feel the rush of cool air as I fall and a splash of salty water as I became part of the waves.  I’d swim until I could touch the horizon and then return.  To sit once again above the chaos.  Above the thunder.  Above the roar.  To sit and watch and be windblown once again from the safety of my perch.

 

Which One

I’m house sitting for my parents this weekend.  The kitchen is a mess because I’ve been cooking [and eating] a lot.  Which makes me stressed.  I don’t like things to be out of place.  I want to clean and organize.  Its my go to plan for dealing with stress.  Organize. Or wash dishes.  I’m like Lorelai Gilmore in that respect.

My life is unorganized like this right now.  Its okay.  Its good, frankly.  I just got my first acceptance into a grad program, so I’m feeling pretty great.  But its messy right now.  With the potential of a lot more mess.  And its just damned inefficient.

But right now, I have monkey picked tea.  So I don’t mind.