Tuesday, May 2, 2017

10 Minutes

It's my lunch break at school, and I'm tired of reading the news.

Also a no-social-media day, so I've got to keep resisting.

Should I write?

I could,

But I don't have any confidence I can write something worth posting in only ten minutes.

I swear there's something else I should be doing right now-- finishing up before the next class.

Unfortunately my lunch break

And ten minutes

Are up.

Monday, March 13, 2017

Moab

Hello there-- how are you.  I'm fine-- brainpower still low.  Forgive the monotone.

Guess what.  Since you're just dying to know.  We went to Moab over President's Day weekend.

I had never been there before.  Shad planned the whole thing-- called it the "family outing."  He invited some friends to join us.  Fun fact: I was the oldest (eldest?) girl in the group.  We camped, hiked, ate, and sat around the fire-- in the rain.  It was pretty dang cold.  But the fog cloaked the landscape in mystery.  I wore lots of layers-- even more than it looks like.  And my blue "Elsa" mittens became a running joke.  Delicate Arch took my breath away for a sec-- didn't expect that.  The fresh air and exercise did me wonders-- must remember to step outside sometimes during the winter.


Thursday, November 3, 2016

Would if I Could


I want to write something, dang it.


And I just don't have the brain power.

I want to write about teaching-- about how it's going and how it consumes every ounce of energy I have but is so worth feeling like your work is not a job but a greater calling.

I want to expound on the Coldplay concert-- about the unique sound, iconic voice and memory-laden melodies that filled me up and sent me floating for days.

I want to speak of my younger brother-- about the quality time we spent this summer before he flew to Australia to serve for two years, and the strangeness of hurting but not wanting it any other way.

I want to tell about how I never watched tv-- until the sudden binge on Sherlock and Stranger Things and how we loved them both but ultimately the latter won the great honor of this year's Halloween costumes.

I want to write about my visit to family in Seattle.  My brother's dog Luna (whom I love).  A spontaneous road trip with friends.  Our third anniversary.  Too many horror films.  High school events.  Answered prayers.  Rants on feminism.  Riding horses.  Neglected home life.  Angel sisters.  Trust and humility, and the lack thereof.  Podcasts.  Co-workers.  Adulting fails (aka, insurance fiascoes).  Completed audiobooks.  A pathetic wardrobe.  Clear skin.  Jane Eyre.  Study abroad reunions.  A mechanical pencil thief.  EDM.  The impending MCAT.  Getting published.  Gene Wilder.  Social media stress.  The fear of ignorance.  The sheep pasture out my aunt's window.  Burnt pizza.  Comic Con.  A husband home safe.  Birthday surprises.  Rudy Steiner.  Wrist surgery.  Kingdom Hearts.  The saving grace of Spotify.  Snail mail.  Travel plans.  Daydreams.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Mesmerizing


Mesmerize: transfix, charm, enchant, enthrall, fascinate, grip, hypnotize





I have never seen a movie mashup like this before; have you?!  It's not just editing, it's more like... choreography.  Whatever it is, it's genius.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Grapes

“Translate: Les dieux mangent des raisins.”
So says my French study app that doesn’t know me as well as I thought it did.
"The gods eat grapes."
Au contraire, mon ami.  If I were a god, the last thing
I would’ve redeemed from the depths of the fridge
Is this forsaken green wad of “on its way out,”
Whose name has caused me to quake
Since Dimetapp—the devil's own.
Ambrosia, you say? More like
Fodder for pop culture jokes on ducks and dragonflies
That really don’t make any sense,
Or titles of books that sinful students
Leave dusty and unstudied,
Or snacks for those starving their way to a higher metabolic sphere—
A cause to which a quick online search
Just revealed
My betrayal.
Those-Fruits-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
are “high-glycemic”
and therefore unworthy
to be welcomed in the realms of such a regimen.

{Source}

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Bath

I have not yet found the strength to blog since my dear Shad left me...

Ok, that's a little dramatic.  But seriously-- why does any amount of creativity require so much willpower?  I feel so lethargic and uninspired lately, a veritable zombie trudging around my parents' house as I try to decide which overly-ambitious Personal Project, as I call them, I should tackle next: the Getting Rid of Clothes You Never Wear, Papers You Don't Need, and Trinkets of Little to No Value project?  Or project Return Things You Borrowed and Attempt to Fulfill Obligations You Neglected, 2 Years Late Edition?

A recent conversation between a brother and sister:

Brother: What are you doin' tonight?
Sister: I think I might try to blog something.
Brother: Nice.  I don't think I've ever even looked at your blog... What's it called, "Misty Dark Secrets," or something like that?
Sister: ................
Brother: No, wait.  "The Secretive Garden"?
Sister: ......................................
Brother: Or maybe "The Grapevine of...."?
Sister: That's going on the blog.

I don't know where he got "Grapevine," but I'll take the "Misty Dark Secrets."  That title makes me laugh so hard I could bust-- probably because I secretly wish I would write something so scandalously secretive sounding.  But, secrets or not, here I am.

Shad has traversed much of Western Europe in the couple of weeks he's been gone, leaving me with ample time to remember and reflect on the places we went last year.  A year later, I ask myself what point remains, if any, to blogging more of our summer highlights-- I came up with a decently convincing rationale: I like to process things.  When I experience something meaningful only to glide back into regular life, that thing seems to get lost if I haven't adequately remembered it and thought it through.  Active mind problems, I guess.

So.  Here is a lovely little place in England called Bath.  If you're looking for facts, talk to Rick Steves; the only things I know about Bath are that it was named for its Roman baths, Jane Austen wasn't a fan of it, and it's premier Indian restaurant may in fact be completely empty if you time it right.

Some images of Bath:
  

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

I Just Need to Write Something

As of today, Shad and I have left behind our cute Cottage for the summer and moved into his parents' basement.

What a relief that his parents have a comfy room for us and plenty of space to stash our boxes of stuff!  But gosh.  Suddenly having no certain idea where to find anything is a bit nerve wracking, especially for someone who likes to know where everything is.  Why is it that as soon as one major stressor is taken care of, another magically appears?

Sometimes I feel like Mrs. Bennet: has this world no compassion for my poor nerves?!

{Source}

Perhaps its a matter of perspective, and I need to stop classifying so many things in life as worthy of so much worry-- yes, I'm sure that's it.

But in the meantime, I must write.  Write through it all.  This summer is going to be super different from the last one; instead of having a world-travel adventure together, Shad and I will be separated while he studies and does some research abroad.

Yes, I'm jealous.  But when this opportunity for him arose, it was clear that it would be beneficial for him and an expensive hassle for me.  So, as much as it pains me, I'm not going.

Lydia Bennet says that married women never have time for writing but that her single sisters may write to her-- because they'll have nothing else to do.  

If that be true, blogosphere, I guess I'll be seeing you.

 
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