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dreams amelia, dreams and false alarms [entries|friends|calendar]

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[01 Mar 2007|12:40pm]
dear snow: I'm not interested.

dear everythingelse: I'm interested.
2 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

update, I guess. [16 Feb 2007|01:05pm]

Roo died this morning.
10 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

I know I said I wouldn't do this anymore... [13 Feb 2007|01:19pm]
[ mood | well but teary ]

...but instead, here's this:

that is where my parents live. that is my dad's voice. those are my dogs. the brown one who limps has cancer. he's going to be dead soon. his name is Robin D. Roo. he's one of my best friends.

4 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

how do you feel about sex in the afternoon? [04 Jan 2007|11:54pm]
turns out I've had this livejournal thing for a really long time. glancing through, I can't help but notice some disturbing patterns.

selected resolutions from 2004:
Have the guts to try new things: learn to play guitar. Learn to longboard. Learn about and do more art.
Refrain from cutting my own hair (unless I REALLY want to.)
Be real. I'm sick of fake things.
Continue self-improvement and progress.
Don't waste time doing nothing.
Live in the present -- appreciate the full beauty of each moment.

and 2005:
- not to cut one's own hair in excessive amounts
- quit being so damn quiet and shy.
- oh yeah: swear less.
- call and hang out with people when I say I will
- write and do art instead of just thinking about it
- continue consciousness/ be aware/ be incorrigably present.

I didn't make any resolutions in 2006. I didn't make any rules, either, and as a result broke every single one.

and so for 2007, the list in progress:
remember that you can't solve other people's problems.
remember that you can't be everything to everyone.
take the risk of making contact.
keep track of yourself even when other people don't keep track of themselves.
write in notebooks.
write in essays.
write in poems.
write in novels.
write in literary journals.
stop writing in livejournal.

if you want to talk, hang out, make tea, make music, make art, make out, get out of the house, or get into a fight (with me), maybe you should call me or text me or show up at my house. or do one and then another. whatever you want to do, let's do it in person. I really like you and I really want to know you. there is room for you in my kitchen and in my bed and sitting on the floor and in lots of other places, like next to windows and next to the water. and I'd like to make some efforts toward trying that all out. I think it will work really well.
12 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

because I feel good and unapologetic. [02 Jan 2007|02:37pm]
[ mood | imagine there's no heaven ]

On the last night of the year I walk blisters into my red boots and drink sangria, vodka and orange juice, kahlua and brandy. I hold his hand without intention, and without intention squeeze it tightly as the man in the doorway prepares his skin for the needle as we pass.

On the last night of the year I say "I think we'd all be a lot happier if people could enjoy each other while they're together without making themselves obtrusive, or intrusive." He says "you're probably right."

In the last minutes of the year I say into his neck "it's tough. Because I still love you, enough that I don't know what to do about it. Most of the time." He doesn't say anything, but holds me in the light and music flashing across the water from parties on the other side.

In the first moments of the new year he says "it's not going to be easy." I say "I'm going to need you to try a little harder a little more of the time." I say "I'm a little too young to feel as old as I do."

We hold hands in the car. I watch a couple fight on the sidewalk. Pressed against a window, she shouts into his face. In the car, John Lennon sings: love is reaching.

In the morning I say "you're bad for my political ideals." "'I'm bad for your political ideals'?" he repeats, as does someone listening in. I am pleased that I am able to explain what I mean. I am pleased that I'm able to do it in very few words.

Vancouver is pouring rain and I like how it smells in the Art Gallery with everyone coming in wet. The air seems dense inside the plaster walls, and I imagine caretakers worrying over the lives of the paintings in the clean, damp air that smells like wool. I breathe slowly in front of Emily Carr's skies that look like water. I have a sense of hope.

7 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

oh boy oh boy [30 Dec 2006|02:43pm]

this is happening.
5 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

phone pictures [27 Dec 2006|09:12pm]
hurray for having a camera phone. even more hurrays for figuring out how to use the pictures!

Christmas in Bellevue is...Collapse )
8 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

maybe you should stop telling secrets about other people's christmas presents? [24 Dec 2006|07:25pm]
[ mood | feet asleep ]

for christmas eve dinner I cook:
baked potatoes
steamed broccoli
onion-apple-red-wine-garlic-paprika dressing
garlicy peppery cheese sauce, and I do not burn the roux.

when my dad licks his knife, leaving sour cream on his lip, I ask him politely whether he remembers telling us: no one is going to want to marry you if you eat like that. he says he does, though later contends that it was no one's going to ask you for a second date. later I say that, things being as they are, it's probably a good idea for me to have the worst manners possible, regardless. he says I know, I know -- I'm just hitting you in the face with the hickory farm's beef-stick of male oppression. the table erupts.

on the phone, my sister invites her boyfriend to come to church with us. want to come to UPC's, um... she trails. I finish for her: Jesus-and-God party?

I tell my mom, semi-apologetically, last time you send me to college. she just smiles.

it's good to be with them.

10 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

two out of three. [24 Dec 2006|12:21am]
[ mood | calm, actually ]

love is chasing down a flea as it tries to climb into your dog's eye.

5 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

not to play "shoot the boy," but... [22 Dec 2006|09:00pm]
Goldtooth read my palms last night. He says I'm entering a calm period, and I hope (morethanIcansay) that he is right.
dance in the police disco lights

there are apples in the trees, we'll take all that we need [18 Dec 2006|08:45pm]
today I am:
rested, weirdly but well
the recipient of many free baked goods
the proud new owner of a little red ipod named Ruby II
the knitter of a complete pair of mis-matched mittens
full of quiche, rosemary bread, cheese, and soup, in that order
graduated from college one hundredth of a point short of cum laude
at peace with my roommate
not an emotional pennypincher
writing two poems
feeling loved
and happy
and hopeful
and happy
and hopeful
and happy
and hopeful.

despite entanglements that don't disappear (completely) when they leave the state (or the room), I am doing really really well. I haven't been this happy in a really long time. thank you. you know who you are.
11 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

collected shit for all [11 Dec 2006|03:01am]
[ mood | really excellent ]

dear Bellingham: this all I ask in terms of winterness. that snow was fun, but this is really ever so much better and really exactly what I had in mind.

dear mittens I am making: I love you so damn much.

dear boy I used to date: thank you for being wonderful even when I don't act like I think you are wonderful 100% of the time.

dear girl I kissed last weekend: thank you for listening and then telling me that I'm not stupid. and for all the rest.

dear boy who lives far from me: your thoughtful notes about camus make me squirm with delight.

dear girl I met inthecoffeeshop: you deserve better.

dear cousin in spokane: I'm gonna make something for you.

dear final papers: I will write you when I feel like it.

dear lapsang souchong tea: I am addicted to you. you could be killing me and I would still drink you.

dear people who live near me: come to my house on wednesday night! it will be very great.

dance in the police disco lights

[09 Dec 2006|09:44pm]
[ mood | shawl ]

last night I spent some time with a very tiny person (or leaflet, as in brochure) and was told I would be a cute mother. "I wish you were a mom" were the exact words -- "it would be so cute." I refuse to smile as much as I feel at large hands next to small ones. I restrain myself in saying what I really think about the photo of this curly little blond thing, Joanna, clinging in the pool to the back of my friend in LA. maybe I've been spending too much time with Aurora, talking about political versus biological desires. I am not entirely convinced but I am glad to have occasion to touch the backs of necks and ankles that are soft and fat in forms we quickly learn not to recognize as beauty. like looking at a midway point between seasons. and this is really all temporary.

on the phone with M I say "this quarter has been crazy shit across the board." he says Bellingham is really getting to me, isn't it? in the car I tell E "I'd just like us to think about these things." Bellingham is really getting to me, or I am really getting to it, or getting into grey, or getting grey into myself; talking and listening make me feel stronger; I read in a book last night that as an aquarian I am obsessed with self-worth. when I don't write here it might mean that I don't know what to say, but more likely it means that things are working themselves out in healthier places.

dance in the police disco lights

i can't tell what kind of life i've lead today [06 Dec 2006|07:18pm]
I hate it when drivers break the rules because they're trying to be polite. This really only makes things unnecessarily complicated. I used to do this all the time. I hate it most because I still do it all the time, but in conversation. Maybe someday this will be in the past tense, too.

The other side of this is how good it feels to say "what are you doing later? because I would really like to lie down."
2 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

love love love [05 Dec 2006|04:23am]
[ mood | 100% better ]

the best part of this whole "graduating" thing thus far (by far) was when arthur shaw said my name and I stood up and the cello section clapped and cheered. I didn't cry, but, you know, awww.


I think I proposed marriage to someone tonight. but it started with "if we were in middle school..." -- which makes it slightly better than the proposal I recently recieved, which went "are you rich? because maybe we should get married."


I am more interested in the things that we can give each other than the secrets that we have the skill to keep.

4 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

gargle with peroxide and a steak for your eye [04 Dec 2006|06:50pm]
[ mood | four-leaf clover ]

when I am on the kitchen floor and can't stop talking, and then do, matia says "the way I know that I am being a productive person is that I'm uncomfortable."

dance in the police disco lights

[02 Dec 2006|06:51pm]
[ mood | jai guru deva ]

good: waking up happy.
bad: watching mood plummet for foolish and selfish reasons (e.g. cuddling with semi-attached friend not working out as planned, when you had convinced yourself you didn't need/want to anyway).
good: watching mood soar effortlessly with a little smiling and sliding and smashing and singing along.

good: watching lovely movies between people you hardly have a right to be as close to as you are.
bad: "hey, we are cozy in bed and this is wonderful, but I have to leave right now because the boy I came here with is leaving right now, and I don't want to walk home alone, because that idea frightens me a lot."

bad: staying the night because he has your clean underwear and you don't.
good: doing one's own laundry in one's own sink.

3 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

I really am writing papers, don't let this mislead you. [02 Dec 2006|12:38am]
How to make Smoky-Blackened Multiple-Cheese Albacore Pasta:

Begin roux.
Place person who knows least about making sauces in charge of administering flour.
While person one adds excessive flour, person two should grate any cheeses available.
Recount hilarious moments of day; laugh and double; hold pee inside bladder.
Remove flour and butter mixture from heat when smoke is noticed.
Remember to boil water for pasta.
Laugh outrageously at brown color and grainy texture of sauce.
Add cheeses.
Worry about future of sauce.
Add soymilk.
Add black pepper.
Add pasta to water.
Add more soymilk to sauce.
Remember you have goat cheese; add to sauce.
Make faces when only flavor apparent in grainy sauce is goat cheese.
Laugh more; add black pepper.
Add rest of soymilk.
Declare sauce improved.
Open and drain can of tuna; dump into sauce. Stir until stringy.
Drain pasta and stir into sauce and tuna mixture.
Put some of it under the burner on accident while stirring (this is the blackened part).
Serve and enjoy!
Suggested toppings: ketchup, sri racha, black pepper.
Follow by wishing there was still brandy.


times recently have laughed until hiccups: 1
times laughed until sat down on floor: 2 1/2
times made someone spew a lot of tea: 1 1/2
awkward thing I said accidentally: he has a hell of a long tongue. (see 1/2 above.)

The cold weather kind of gets to me. Kind of makes me feel like giving up. But good friends, bad food, the occasional snuggle, and two or three sweaters helps a lot.

(and, apparently I have a white hair. but it's in the back and is an inch long, so my source, for all I know, may be lying to me.)
dance in the police disco lights

so, what have you learned about the lyric essay? [30 Nov 2006|03:33pm]
[ mood | slushy ]

to do before graduating:
put on socks
fall/ splash in slush a lot
finish response paper
(start and) finish another response paper
and purchase some boots
write ten page final paper
write lyric essay on lyric essay form, drawing on 32487897234 sources
write lyric essay in form of bach suite
figure out how to present it
present it
spend unclear amounts of time rehearsing
beaf show
--uh, nevermind.
orchestra concert
chamber concert
proofread some things? --not until after graduation.

I think there are a couple more things to add, probably.

PS dear roads, trails, hills and inclines both steep and slight, and surfaces in general: how come you still suck?

3 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

in the spin [29 Nov 2006|08:51pm]
[ mood | mousey? ]

thing aurora poured into my dresser drawer: demi-tasse of brandy.
good time to cut your own hair: after lots of brandy.
hypocritical advice when friends go on dates: "I like your snow pants. keep them on."
suggestion I gave successfully: "you don't have to go out in the cold. you can stay here."
thing I failed to say: "you don't have to go out in the cold. you can stay here."
place that should be closer to bellingham: los angeles.
things that taste good on pasta: artichoke pesto, non-dairy sour cream, and sharp white cheddar.
times I've fallen in the snow and ice: four, plus 38279827398734 half-falls.

here are some picturesCollapse )

7 neighbors dance in the police disco lights

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