poetry fragments

one day we say
one day we’ll do it all
whatever it is
I’ll swim naked at night
I’ll see Venice
I’ll get published
one day I’ll write that book

one day we say
one day we’ll do anything at all
anything
I’ll get rid of those dead flowers
I’ll wash the dishes
I’ll feel like getting up in the morning
one day I’ll remember to call

—

hey, remember me?
I’m you, you know, from before
hey, remember how you used to feel?
I feel it now
hey, feel it again
listen to this, see
the music takes you back
it always does, doesn’t it?
I knew it would
hey, remember you’re not me anymore
don’t get lost in that feeling
you can stop feeling it now
hello?
you coming back?
step back out of that feeling
are you listening to me anymore?
hello?

—

your brain should be a buzzing symphony
or so I’m told
what is the appeal of raw garlic?
it makes me less hungry
and these boots make me feel like a rockstar, but
what does that signify?
plus all those drunken phone calls and texts
what did they ever accomplish?
nothing
nothing at all

—

All need more work, I think.
Thoughts?

a list (style is a throwback to my LJ days)

+ = good
- = bad
~ = mixed/neutral

+ peppermint iced tea
+ gave myself a haircut (+70 indie points!)
- lots of little random boxes to unpack, still
+ have 3 hours to myself
- should work on previously mentioned boxes
~ probably won’t do as much as I should
+ listening to CSS
+ get to make my own dinner tonight
- we really need to go shopping
+ have friends
- not supposed to make plans until my boxes are more unpacked
~ am starting them anyway
+ on break
- almost everyone else is still in school

why don’t I write anymore?

The internet is so seductive.

Anyway, I’m home.

The musical was fantastic, especially given some of the circumstances.

Oh Facebook Honesty Box, how you beckon. But on the other hand, you actually got some real information out of me and someone else. Relationship improving information.

MSN + webcam = long distance face-making at someone special. Once he gets his ass to Future Shop, we may start Skyping so we can SAY inane things while making faces, instead of just typing them.

Once you start thinking about being profound, it gets much harder.

I don’t even journal a lot anymore.

This must be fixed.

on PEI

I’ve returned to pescatarianism. Being from New England, and living in the Maritimes, I think it was kind of inevitable… And in terms of environmental impact, fish is nowhere near as bad as beef. Mmmmmm smoked fish.

Saturday night craziness:
N. has a couple of friends whose cover band was playing at a (pretty sketchy) bar. They needed someone to collect cover at the door, so we both ended up doing that. I didn’t get IDed, probably because I was with the band and never went up to the bar myself. And I spend a lot of money, and danced for ages. I was so sore yesterday it was ridiculous. But there was much Easter egg hunting fun!

can’t

Today began normally.
I woke up, showered, got breakfast.
Went to lecture.
The lecture was sad but interesting, it was on the Holocaust.
Well, the first half was.
I had to leave partway through.
Because the lecturer was playing this beautiful Gorecki piece that Robin used in a play. And I tried to hold it together, but I just… can’t. I started crying, and I had to leave.

What else will set me off? I’m a little bomb full of grief, waiting to explode again.

why I wish it was Tuesday

1. This is an essay weekend. On Tuesday it’ll be done done done.
2. No class on Tuesday.
3. St. Patrick’s day is Tuesday.
4. 2 + 3 = EPIC.

I’m getting good at making money on Gaia.

But my journal is lonely for me.

Must… get… off… internet…

so what’ve I been doing?

Regressing.

To my Gaia Online days.

This is LaLisetta. Isn’t she cute?

Dammit. I swear I have a life.

I need to write something today…

…but what?

It’s going to be small random musings today.

How much shit can happen in one week? First Robin, now this. All of this long-distance shit. I hope this week will be less weird.

Facebook is a lifeline right now, it’s keeping me connected to so many people at home. Which is something I really need right now.

I keep meaning to do the readings, and not doing them. This is problematic.

I miss last year. I miss Rhymation, and Scattergories. I miss the theatre department.

I think the best way to start the morning is in bed, with homemade biscotti and a mug of King Cole tea. Delicious, peaceful, awesome.

Also, I miss the quadrilateral, from last spring. K., you know what I mean.

new topic!

I fell in love.

This is how we met: the first night of frosh week, they had pizza (and beer) parties at frosh leaders’ houses, for mingling, a couple of groups to a house. Our groups were at the same party, and we both sort of noticed each other while we were mingling. Cut to a few nights later, it’s Retro Night at the Wardy (campus pub) and we danced together a bit. I would’ve danced with him more, but while walking my roomie back to our room, since she didn’t have her keys, we saw a girl being loaded into an ambulance, and that was pretty much a total buzzkill for me, so I went to bed soon after. Cut to the day before lectures and such begin, I think “maybe he’ll be in my tutorial… no, that never happens.” Cut to the next day, he is in my tutorial. That night it’s Maritime Night at the Wardy, there’s live music, I know a million folk songs and fit right in, I don’t know “Barrett’s Privateers” yet, but I pick that up fast. I’m there with my friend (this initial thing is a problem, so many people have the first initial E.), let’s call her Rosie since she had a bandanna that night and did many a Rosie the Riveter impression. And she gets me up to dance, but he offers his arm so off I go with him. And after the song Rosie asks me “what the fuck was that?” and I say something like “he’s in my tutorial, and oh my god he’s totally my type, and he’s wearing brown corduroy pants.” Let it be known that I have a deep love of corduroy pants. But that’s not really the point. Rosie, who by now has had plenty of beer plus a shot of tequila, decides that we must dance together again. She basically physically shoves us together. And we dance, and we go outside for some air, and we get to talking, and we go to his room, and neither of us gets much sleep that night. And the next day he asks me out for coffee after tutorial, and so far I’m getting my happy ending…

I can write more, if you want to know more.

(I do not like how that’s all one block of text. May edit later.)

revision dilemma

There is a boy.  Last year, when I started this blog, I was romantically interested in him.  The tag for him to a certain extent reflects this.  Now we are friends, only friends.  I know I decided to not to revise previous posts to reflect the current truth, but what about tags?  It seems odd to tag him in a way that implies (at least to me) romantic interest, but I don’t want to just make up a new tag without changing all the old ones. So do I change the old ones?  Complicating the issue slightly is the fact that he and K. have the same first initial.

Anyway, I originally got onto this topic because I liked something he’d said about Robin:
“Robin had the reputation akin to a Goddess. She is always there; watching, waiting.”
Which I loved, and wanted to quote here.

I do almost feel like she’s still watching me, asking me why I’ve read so little of the Darwin I’m supposed to be reading.

I’ve been drowning my sorrows in Monty Python, junk food, and tea, mainly, because I’m sure she’d worry if I drowned them in anything stronger. (I did have a slightly spiked hot chocolate last night.)

I’ve been wearing this silly little bracelet, too. Just brightly coloured plastic beads – she picked it up one day when we were organizing the costume shop and said something like “this looks like you.”
My friend E. wears a beautiful, simple silver metal bracelet in memory of her friend Haley, and as lovely as something like that would be, the bright plastic found in the theatre somehow seems so much more appropriate for Robin.