I have this awful feeling hanging over me like there is something I need to do that I keep forgetting to do.  And I don’t know what it is.  But it’s not getting done.

Worst feeling ever.


Hustle and Flow

If there has been one theme that has been constant in my life this semester it is Perspective.  No, I wouldn’t call that a motif for this period of my life (Robin Hood joke…if you’re not Jessie Neal, you probably don’t get it), but its definitely an idea that keeps repeating itself with persistent consistency.

I was going to list the problems that losing perspective brings.  But why bother.  The sun is shining today and I feel like having a half full glass.  Hell, I might actually fill it all the way to the top.  Why stop at halfway?

Keeping perspective reminds me that the struggles I face have been faced before.  That I have habits, cycles, patterns that I fall into that can be circumvented.  Keeping perspective reminds me that every day turns into tomorrow, the world never ends, and there is always a new chance.  Perspective reminds me that no matter how awful or how perfect today was, you can’t stay fettered to it because tomorrow is coming and it deserves your full presence.  Keeping perspective reminds me that emotions are universal and nearly 7 billion people are in the exact same boat you are. No one is above joy or pain.  Keeping perspective reminds me that my life is privileged.  Beyond any doubt and beyond what I realize daily.  I am not responsible for this luck and too often I am ungrateful or willfully ignorant.  Keeping perspective reminds me that it is my duty and my responsibility to be useful.

I feel guilty and I feel pitiful sometimes to admit my weaknesses and my doubts. I worry that if they are committed to paper [or cyberspace] then I might be held to them.  Maybe no one one will allow me to be strong again once I have admitted to weakness.  Maybe I will be letting people down.  Maybe the world only accepts me if I’m perfect.



I’m grateful for love and for these hands that keep holding me.

I’m grateful that although its cold, the sun is still shining.

I’m grateful for second chances and perpetual hope.

I’m grateful that the world keeps spinning even when I slow down.

I’m grateful for the push to keep moving.

I’m grateful for people who look for more than plastic.

I’m grateful for movies that get better every time you watch them.

I’m grateful for people who don’t give up.

And I’m grateful that tomorrow is always a new day.


What do you do when you can’t go back?  When you can’t change your mind?

What do you do when you feel stuck?  And its not a bad thing.  You just feel a little bit young to be stuck already.  You were hoping to one of the lucky ones who avoids that altogether and you just feel stuck.

I didn’t have enough time to explore.  To decide.  To expand and contract.  I’ve traveled hopefully but the arriving is frightening.  Is that childish or is that bold?

Is it wrong to want to wander?

What do you do when all you want is to feel the cold rain on your face and to chance the pneumonia? What if you find stability and safety only to realize you found more than you bargained?

How do you know when you are too old to keep feeling too young?

When Nate worries about my asthma

I feel like Alice.

I finally stopped falling but I’m more lost than ever.  I’m willing to give any door a try at this point but I’m either too big to enter or too small to reach the key.  I don’t fit.  So I sit here and cry.  And I’m afraid if I opened the door I’d only find another world I didn’t understand.  I can’t get my bearings in a land where Rabbits carry pocket watches.  The waistcoat wasn’t a problem, but the watch? Curiouser and curiouser.

…being green

she asked, “are you cursed?” he said “i think that i’m cured.”

layers upon layers of concrete and steel press on the crumpled wings of my soul.  i’ll never understand why i was placed in this glass mason jar.

all i know is that every heart needs a little more love.

we’ve got plenty of bombs and drugs and fences.  i’d like to build museums so we can remember and libraries so we can dream.

a sunbeam dances around particles of dust making the light look like its full of tiny sparkling fairies.  i feel magical and i clap in delight.

and for a moment the weight is lifted.

and oh, if i could only make that moment last.

cant catch a win

there is a reason i always cheer for underdog teams.  i think i have to believe they can win.  because i feel like an underdog and i have to believe i can win.

but i keep failing.  i can’t even go to a simple meeting correctly (oh, i mixed up the date by a month? wow.)

what if i can’t do this? and what if i can’t do anything else either?

and i feel sick today.  perfect.  best. day. ever.


Today has been a full day.

I discovered that the best time to go to the gym is Saturday midday when there is a home football game.  All the grunting, sweaty boys are at the football game, leaving you to run in peace.

I discovered my hair is long enough to mousse and wear wavy again.  I ended up being adorable today.  Not to toot my own horn or anything.  But I totally did.

I decided I want to get a weiner dog.  Short-haired, brown weiner dog.  And name him Geoffrey.

I walked to my favourite grocery store (Duck Soup Co-op) only to find it had closed about 30 minutes previously.  So for grins, I went next door to the butcher shop.  I know.  Weird.  But it turned out to be a gourmet grocery store type of place.  I’d compare it to a fancy version of the Slater grocery store.  Random odds and ends like Swedish crackers and tomato-basil noodles, a stocked wine/beer section (with its own designated employee), gourmet cheeses, a full service meat counter, and all sorts of things.  I did not expect that.  But I got everything I needed for the veggie-chili I am about to go make.  Right now.

Its Last Year All Over Again

Please please please please please.

Cross your fingers for me.

I’m re-applying to grad schools.  But just three.  I’m limiting my search and hopefully improving the quality of my applications.  I am applying to history phD programs: Washington University, University of Minnesota, and Notre Dame.

Washington University would be scary as hell. But I’ve dreamed of it so long; I can’t pass up the opportunity to apply again.

University of Minnesota has a strong history program in East Asian History and African History.  A large faculty and a respected program.  Plus lots of flannel and Jeremy Messersmith.  Bike friendly city, also.

But here’s the kicker.  The one I just found tonight.  The last in the tri-fecta.  (I am making this sound awfully light for how seriously I am taking this.)  History and Peace Studies at Notre Dame.  I would study history through the Kroc Institute for Peace Studies.  I would want my dissertation to concern conflict and re-building in modern history.  Essentially study what has happened after major conflicts, what efforts have been made in the recovery/reconciliation process and what effect has that had on future conflict.  Hopefully very focused on the history of the civil war/peace building in Sierra Leone.  This could be perfect.  And its such a long shot.  Its freaking Notre Dame.  But my heart is racing.

All my practicality flew out the window.  I’m emotionally involved in this search now.  What happens now?