In my eyes are valentines
and easter eggs and New Year's wine,
but when my heart finds Christmas
my eyes will shine like new.
All the days are kind to me
but fall too far behind to see,
but when my heart finds Christmas
I hope it finds you too.
Let the angels sing around us,
Christmas time is here.
Let the children's love surround us,
laughing and filled with cheer.
My heart told me once before
to find my dream and search no more.
And when my heart finds Christmas,
I hope it finds you too.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
Pardon the entry, but I love Billy...
This is for all of you English majors and for the lovers of literature found devouring book after book this Christmas break. You know you all do this, or have (at least) stumbled upon it.
"Marginalia" by Billy Collins
Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.
Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
"Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
who wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.
Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.
Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
"Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
"Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.
And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.
We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.
Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.
And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.
Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page
A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
"Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love."
"Marginalia" by Billy Collins
Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.
Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
"Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
who wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.
Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.
Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
"Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
"Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.
And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.
We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.
Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.
And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.
Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page
A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
"Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love."
Friday, December 16, 2005
Now all I need is a really great slogan...
in order to complete my plan for global domination, that is.
Well, not really, but I ran across this Advertising Slogan Generator, and I was like...hey, I think it's always good to be prepared in case I ever have to become marketable. I can stow these ideas in the far recesses of my mind and slap them on a t-shirt somewhere down the line, if need be. I am hoping the need will never be, cause they kind of suck and I would never put them on anything. They are entertaining, however. I know some of them made me laugh...so here you go.
Got a Melia? You're in Luck.
The Melia Effect.
Smart. Beautiful. Melia.
Super Melia is Almost Here.
Melia Stays Sharp 'til The Bottom of the Glass.
Tense, Nervous, Melia?
There Ain't No Party Like A Melia Party.
I'd Walk a Mile for a Melia.
Any Time, Any Place, Melia.
When You've Got Melia, Flaunt It.
Go find your own slogans: http://www.thesurrealist.co.uk/slogan.cgi?word=mexcellent
Well, not really, but I ran across this Advertising Slogan Generator, and I was like...hey, I think it's always good to be prepared in case I ever have to become marketable. I can stow these ideas in the far recesses of my mind and slap them on a t-shirt somewhere down the line, if need be. I am hoping the need will never be, cause they kind of suck and I would never put them on anything. They are entertaining, however. I know some of them made me laugh...so here you go.
Got a Melia? You're in Luck.
The Melia Effect.
Smart. Beautiful. Melia.
Super Melia is Almost Here.
Melia Stays Sharp 'til The Bottom of the Glass.
Tense, Nervous, Melia?
There Ain't No Party Like A Melia Party.
I'd Walk a Mile for a Melia.
Any Time, Any Place, Melia.
When You've Got Melia, Flaunt It.
Go find your own slogans: http://www.thesurrealist.co.uk/slogan.cgi?word=mexcellent
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
To the people that come up with new ideas for talk shows...
Giving Tyra Banks her own show...seriously?!
Flipping through channels last night I witnessed her looking into the camera, zoomed in on a face filled with the highest capacity of plastic genuiness, as she was saying: "In a minute we'll be back with Jennifer, the bully that set Rachel's hair on FIRE!"
And she kept using that same phrase in different ways:
"Your daughter set this girl's HAIR on fire!"
"Did you think it was okay to set her hair on fire?!"
"It is not normal to set someone's HAIR on FIRE!"
Oh, Tyra...you make me laugh. I would like to see your weave on FIRE!
For the love of god, are you freakin' kidding me?! I would rather watch Laguna Beach, and that's saying something.
Flipping through channels last night I witnessed her looking into the camera, zoomed in on a face filled with the highest capacity of plastic genuiness, as she was saying: "In a minute we'll be back with Jennifer, the bully that set Rachel's hair on FIRE!"
And she kept using that same phrase in different ways:
"Your daughter set this girl's HAIR on fire!"
"Did you think it was okay to set her hair on fire?!"
"It is not normal to set someone's HAIR on FIRE!"
Oh, Tyra...you make me laugh. I would like to see your weave on FIRE!
For the love of god, are you freakin' kidding me?! I would rather watch Laguna Beach, and that's saying something.
Monday, December 12, 2005
I haven't forgotten about you...
I am simply guilty of neglect.
I don't even really know where to begin, it's been so long since I have posted anything.
I could recap entire weekends spent out of town, or give minute details that would be of no interest to anyone save myself, so I will just write about the highlights.
1. I took my last final ever last Wednesday. Dr. Thompson handed me the Compostion and Rhetoric final and said, "Is this your last final?" To which I replied, "Yes." And she said, "Well, it's been a long road." To which I just uttered, "Indeed." I finished my final, walked out the door, and realized that that class was most likely the last class I will ever sit in. I am not going to lie, there was a momentary panic, especially since I have been in school, with nothing longer than a three month break, for over eighteen years. I am scared, because I am the kind of person that must have structure, but I am also excited, because I can now focus all of my energy towards my thesis and MA Exams.
2. I went to Austin and saw Maria Bamford with Ashley, Shannon, and Toby. I will post photos from that excursion at a later date. I have them, I just too lazy to deal with Flickr right now. After seeing Maria, who is quite possibly the funniest person ever, these events occured in what I can only deem pretty close to this order: hookah bar, a girl named Tiffin with at least eight piercings on her face alone, an apple pie and the offer of whiskey to go with it, the purchase of Heineken but not the drinking of it, a 15 minute nap on Tiffin's (who I met a few hours previous) bed, acting as human dictionary for Tiffin's boyfriend who worked at the said hookah bar, not sleeping, waking Ashley and Toby up at 7:30am from the coffee shop next door where Shannon and I had been since 3:30am talking, delirium, a quesadilla, eight cups of coffee, a waiter Shannon referred to as Brad the entire time we were at the coffee shop...even when we learned that his name was actually John...or something. A long car ride back with good conversation, a skilled and well-rested driver, and not enough Diet Coke.
3. Girls Weekend Volumes 3 and 4 took place in the Metroplex. Pretty much the same madness--Katy, Ashley, and me. Vol. 3 featured the return of Mikey the Minister, which continually astounds me. To recap, we met him during Girls Weekend Vol. 2 at a bar called The Library. Then, a month later, we go to a different bar that none of us had ever been to, went to a random room at this bar, and there...leaning against the wall...was Mikey. I saw him, did a double take, and said, "MIKEY!!!" He remembered us and we spent the rest of the evening hanging out with him (and a few other guys we still believe to be terrorists in training) on the dance floor. For more interesting photos from that weekend, see http://rockwithrobotron.blogspot.com. Ashley's got the goods when it comes to the photographic gems from that weekend. The guy (you can only see his back in the photo) that I am dancing with was nice...but he was the victim of Melia's first giving of a fake phone number. I felt horrible afterwards... because I lied, not because I ever wanted to see him again. Vol. 4 was this past weekend and we mostly just shopped for Ashley's new apartment. It was a lot of fun, but it flew by too quickly. We did manage to make our way to David's Bridal to pick up my dress for Emily's wedding, which is this weekend. I can't believe it.
I can't think of anything else to write about right now. I am in the middle of this incredible memoir, and I would really like to finish it tonight. Do yourself a favor, and if you like memoirs, pick up anything by Mary Karr. You will never turn back.
To all my friends wrapping up their finals, good luck. For all of you that are sick, start feeling better soon. And for anyone looking to hear some good music, come out to The Zone this Friday and Saturday; Core 47 is playing and it's going to be an awesome show.
I don't even really know where to begin, it's been so long since I have posted anything.
I could recap entire weekends spent out of town, or give minute details that would be of no interest to anyone save myself, so I will just write about the highlights.
1. I took my last final ever last Wednesday. Dr. Thompson handed me the Compostion and Rhetoric final and said, "Is this your last final?" To which I replied, "Yes." And she said, "Well, it's been a long road." To which I just uttered, "Indeed." I finished my final, walked out the door, and realized that that class was most likely the last class I will ever sit in. I am not going to lie, there was a momentary panic, especially since I have been in school, with nothing longer than a three month break, for over eighteen years. I am scared, because I am the kind of person that must have structure, but I am also excited, because I can now focus all of my energy towards my thesis and MA Exams.
2. I went to Austin and saw Maria Bamford with Ashley, Shannon, and Toby. I will post photos from that excursion at a later date. I have them, I just too lazy to deal with Flickr right now. After seeing Maria, who is quite possibly the funniest person ever, these events occured in what I can only deem pretty close to this order: hookah bar, a girl named Tiffin with at least eight piercings on her face alone, an apple pie and the offer of whiskey to go with it, the purchase of Heineken but not the drinking of it, a 15 minute nap on Tiffin's (who I met a few hours previous) bed, acting as human dictionary for Tiffin's boyfriend who worked at the said hookah bar, not sleeping, waking Ashley and Toby up at 7:30am from the coffee shop next door where Shannon and I had been since 3:30am talking, delirium, a quesadilla, eight cups of coffee, a waiter Shannon referred to as Brad the entire time we were at the coffee shop...even when we learned that his name was actually John...or something. A long car ride back with good conversation, a skilled and well-rested driver, and not enough Diet Coke.
3. Girls Weekend Volumes 3 and 4 took place in the Metroplex. Pretty much the same madness--Katy, Ashley, and me. Vol. 3 featured the return of Mikey the Minister, which continually astounds me. To recap, we met him during Girls Weekend Vol. 2 at a bar called The Library. Then, a month later, we go to a different bar that none of us had ever been to, went to a random room at this bar, and there...leaning against the wall...was Mikey. I saw him, did a double take, and said, "MIKEY!!!" He remembered us and we spent the rest of the evening hanging out with him (and a few other guys we still believe to be terrorists in training) on the dance floor. For more interesting photos from that weekend, see http://rockwithrobotron.blogspot.com. Ashley's got the goods when it comes to the photographic gems from that weekend. The guy (you can only see his back in the photo) that I am dancing with was nice...but he was the victim of Melia's first giving of a fake phone number. I felt horrible afterwards... because I lied, not because I ever wanted to see him again. Vol. 4 was this past weekend and we mostly just shopped for Ashley's new apartment. It was a lot of fun, but it flew by too quickly. We did manage to make our way to David's Bridal to pick up my dress for Emily's wedding, which is this weekend. I can't believe it.
I can't think of anything else to write about right now. I am in the middle of this incredible memoir, and I would really like to finish it tonight. Do yourself a favor, and if you like memoirs, pick up anything by Mary Karr. You will never turn back.
To all my friends wrapping up their finals, good luck. For all of you that are sick, start feeling better soon. And for anyone looking to hear some good music, come out to The Zone this Friday and Saturday; Core 47 is playing and it's going to be an awesome show.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
