One of those days

Do you ever have one of those days where you see a recent picture of yourself and think: “Oh god…when did I turn into a turtle with no chin and a bad bowl cut???!!”  I definitely just had one of those days.  Haircut, asap.  Its like a turtle and a mushroom and a bowl mated on my head.  And I don’t approve of those shenanigans.  My. God.



Also…I should not be looking on Craigslist for Dachshunds right now.

1. because I need to work on these papers instead

2. because then i find a perfect one for free and my apartment still doesn’t allow pets.


Anything but the last page of this paper

Sometimes I REALLY want to grow my hair out.  I want it long and flowing and messy and pony-tailed.  And then I remember that I really don’t want to grow my own hair out.  Because my own hair looks gross long.  I want to grow someone else’s hair out and have it on my head.  And if I could grown 4-5 inches, that’d be great.  Because long hair overwhelms my short girl frame.

And sometimes I REALLY want to cut my hair again.  Go back to Emma Watson.  Because it saves water and time.  And you never have a bad hair day.  Either it looks good all the time or bad all the time.  And it is tempting.  Very tempting.

Thanksgiving Day

Today’s Story People:

Real Reason
There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other’s cooking & say it was good.

This is how I feel.  Lots of things make no sense.  Almost every decision I am faced with, almost every decision facing the people who are closest to me make no sense and make no money.

Its all about loving each other.

Let’s just say it was good.





Out of touch.

No time for blogging.

Traveling a lot.

Finals finals finals.

Public Administration.

Do not like.

Busy.  More driving.


Unmade bed and dirty clothes.

Pillow pet.

Will get to be a real person again in 2 weeks.

November is the month for pilgrims

If I am being honest, I am not okay right now.

I am not okay and it is hurting the people I love the most.  I am scared and defensive.  And I hate it.

I want to be home.  I want to be held.  I want to be able to fix myself.  I want to be better.

I felt like I was finally finding myself this past spring and summer. I felt like I had found the place where I fit, the home for my heart.  Not a physical place, but a feeling.  It was full of music and art and laughter and I felt like I belonged.  Like this was what I’d been looking for my entire life.  That feeling.  I felt like I was finally really becoming myself.  I was letting myself be true.  And it felt good.  It felt safe.  It felt peaceful.

Out here, I dont feel that.  I feel anxious.  I feel like I’m in a box, pushing the walls away or curling in a corner to cry.  I feel like my body is lined with tiny little shards of glass and I so desperately need someone to hold me up, to help me, but I’m afraid I’ll cut them to pieces if they get too close.

I want to do something drastic, to feel like I am valuing happiness enough to say that I will take a leap of faith and trust the pieces to fall into place.  To just drop out and move back and let life take me where it will.  To take care of myself for once.  To say that I am valuing myself enough to do something that seems stupid because it just might make me feel okay.  That me feeling alright is worth more than sensibility or practicality.  To jump and let the world cushion me.  To admit that I deserve to be happy.

But practicality, finances, tickets, classes, and boxes hold me back.  Hold me here.  And hold me unhappy.  And I don’t know how to proceed.  I’m a pilgrim, but Tinker Creek seems frozen over.  I don’t want to be a lone polar explorer.

This is very emotional.  And maybe I’ll regret that.  But better out than in, right?


Light colours would have no meaning if you’d never seen a rich burgundy or a deep brown.  Orange isn’t complimented by yellow, but by deep, dark blue.  Grey isn’t mixed from white alone.

Shadows can be beautiful.  They add depth to the landscape and cause hardly any trouble at all, provided they are firmly sewn to the soles of your feet.

When the path is rough and rocky, your feet find something to press against.  Without friction, without something to struggle against, we’d have no control over our motion.  We’d never be able to choose our direction.

Life can’t be perfect.  At least not yet.  Though maybe one day we’ll look back and realize it always was.




“She stared down at the red dirt, thinking hard.  After several minutes of silence, she raised her eyes to mine and said, ‘Yes. I think everything will turn out to be just fine.’  I thought for a few minutes as well and realized I agreed.”


I love the movie How to Train your Dragon. Its the story of a young Viking boy named Hiccup who doesn’t fit in with a culture where worth is measured in physical strength and dragon hides.  He befriends a wounded dragon named Toothless and together, they show the world that true worth is found in love and that being different just might be beautiful.

Tonight I feel like Toothless.  The world looks at me and sees ugly scales.  I am dangerous.  I wreak havoc.  I remain a mystery and all that is known of me can be summed up in the five words: “Extremely dangerous…Kill on sight.”  But right now?  I am damaged.  Your slings and arrows broke my flight and sent me tumbling down to earth.  All my defenses are ruined.  I am broken and defeated.  My wings are ripped and I’m scared. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.

I’ll be honest.  I’d rather do it on my own.  At least before I was injured, I was self-sufficient.  I may have been lonely and misunderstood, but I fought my own battles.  No one could hold me back.  I was a rock. An island unto myself.  I was strong and I’d destroy anything that stood in my way.  I didn’t need any help.

But now I’m stuck in this valley.  I can’t fly.  I can’t get away.  I can’t save myself.  My tail is broken and I’m grounded in this place.  I can’t even feed myself.  I keep crashing into these walls.  Bruising my body and losing all hope.  And I wonder what is going to happen to me.

Then a misfit chanced my way.  Found my hiding place.  And promised healing.  He brought me fish, enough to feed 5000 or so, and plenty of wine.  More important, he took the time to get to know me.  He promised that things could be different.  That I didn’t have to defend myself.  That the world didn’t have to be “kill or be killed.”  He showed me that not only could I trust his love, but I could trust you too.

And the world still isn’t perfect.  Too many Vikings still want to kill dragons.  Too many of us are still afraid of anything that is different.  Too many of us value sameness instead of celebrating our individuality.  Too many of us are still just “Extremely dangerous…kill on sight.”

I’m just a wounded dragon.  But I think I could fly.


I have trouble defining favourites.  Especially when it comes to pop culture.  Who doesn’t?  We all dread that moment in a large group when we have to go around the circle and share our favourite actor/movie/band.  Because inevitably, every person in the room just has to explain that they have so many they couldn’t possibly pick a favourite but if they have to (no one is holding a gun to your head…also, no one is going to fact check this) “it would be one of these seven” which they proceed to list off and describe.  And inevitably someone else will say “oh my god, me too!”

But I decided tonight while on the treadmill that I have a favourite actress and actor.  And a favourite movie.  And, obviously, a favourite band.

Actress: Lisa Kudrow.  Seriously.  Go watch Friends.  And go watch Easy A.  Go watch P.S. I love you.  Go watch everything this woman is in. Dame Judi Dench would of course take first, however, she’s so in a league of her own it doesn’t even count.

Actor:  Alan Rickman.  Of course, there are the classic favourites of men I like to see in movies who I also like to see shirtless (Aka Harrison Ford, Colin Firth, Sayid and Jin from Lost, and Alan a Dale).  And of course, there are the unattractive men who make the list (Geoffrey Rush comes to mind).  But Alan Rickman always comes first.  Leo takes a close second.

Movie: Love Actually.  And Coons Only Live Twice.

Please understand, in a group setting, the type with large oval shapes made out of chairs that I’m used to, I would only answer with the first two words listed above in each category.  Because its so main stream to talk about yourself in a large group setting.  And no one cares.  Everyone is just thinking about what they are going to say.  So use your blog to extrapolate.  Way more exclusive.  So sick.

Excuse me, I think my vegan duck and quinoa fries are done.