weekend

A weekend full of adventures.

On Friday I visited my high school and had all kinds of fun, then I stayed for this thing called the Illuminarium, which is “a festival of lights” but is basically just a wonderful celebration of the crazy artsyness that is the school. I ran this interactive thing that someone else created for the first one, which was quite popular. I also got to see a bunch of other alumni who were home, which was nice, and all my friends who still go there. I got covered in glow-in-the-dark paint and ran around with glowsticks. Then instead of watching the movie I went for an epic ramble with two guys who were in my writing workshop last year, which was really fun. We walked to this ice cream place, only to get there five minutes after they closed. Quite the walk, but totally worth it even without any ice cream. Of course, I was wearing totally the wrong shoes and my feet got all blister-y, but still. Worth it.

Yesterday I spent five hours representing the camp I work at at our town’s “Discovery Day” street fair thing, painting kid’s faces. My friend who also works there was there, and we had a blast. She even painted a flower on my face. I murdered my knees, though. I was either standing, kneeling in a parking lot, or bent over all funny for the whole five hours, pretty much, and now I’m sore. But the kids loved all the facepaint (and the candy we had) and some of the parents even seemed interested in the brochures. Then in the evening I went to see Star Trek with my family. Sooo good! And it has Simon Pegg, who I love. With a fierce accent.

Today there was much driving around and grocery shopping with my mother, and I got a delicious cappuccino brownie out of it. So yummy. Oh so very yummy.

So, good weekend.

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?

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.

sadness.

I wish this wasn’t the first post in ages, there are so many good things that’ve happened since I last wrote.

The list I was starting in my head after my good friend K. told me to write here again had:
- the first black US President was elected and inaugurated
- I came to Canada for university
- I fell in love with the guy I met the first night of frosh week

But you know what happened?

An absolutely incredible woman died. She was my advisor for a good part of my high school years, and head of the theatre department, where I spent an absurd amount of time. She’s the one who got me to get my shit together on my senior project, she’s the one who helped me grow up. I already missed her, up here over 400 miles away. I’d promised her a longer email a couple of weeks ago, which I never wrote. It was going to be full of things I was so proud to tell her about. I was so excited that I’d get home in time to see the musical, too.

Life sucks, you know?

I think it might be harder for me, too, because I’m alone with this. None of my friends here knew her. There’s one other person in the city (that I know of) who went to my school, and I’m not sure he ever spent time in the theatre department. Not like I did, certainly.

I was talking to a friend last night, and she said: “people can be understanding, but when there’s a death in the family (which the theatre crowd certainly is), you just want to be with your family.” That’s exactly it. I want to hug someone who knows how I feel. I called K. last night, which helps, but I want to be with everyone. I want to choke my way through “Rose” (which we sang before every show) in a group, not alone.

But most of all I want Robin to give me a hug, and that’s never going to happen again.

“Technicalities” (written last year)

I shouldn’t have said what I said about horses
horses and riders
in castles of air
I shouldn’t’ve dropped hints all over the ground
where they could be found by
anyone who’d pick them up
I shouldn’t just wait
until it’s too late
it’s already happened
I already have
I shouldn’t have wished
so imprecisely
that’s how wishes go wrong
why haven’t we learned?
we’ll always be burned
by the gift of three wishes
it’s just like a fire and never a warning and
there’s no returning it
so you get what you wish for
but not what you want

—–

I wrote this poem last year, based in part off of a journal entry. Posting it here because I never put it anywhere public. (I did submit it to my school’s litmag, but that hasn’t come out yet this year.)

I’ll try to write something more later, but I have selection day for the school dance concert for a lot of the day. Much excitement! I choreographed a solo, let’s see if it gets in . . .