bird by bird

Whoa baby, what a weekend... It was intense and I'm sorting it all out by way of blogging. Friday started out at 7:30 am on a three hour car ride with 5 sleepy coffee drinkers and very little leg room. We sat knee to knee and occasionally had to pull over to scrape the insides of the windows with our USD student ID's. When we arrived, I had the same taste in my mouth and tightness in my chest. I wore the same black dress. I thought, "I'm too young to have a dress for occasions like this". When I stood, I had friends standing by, and that felt familiar too. I was glad. It was what it was, and after a few tears, several hugs and a buffet of reception food, we crammed back into the two-door car and headed back to Verm. The windows were less foggy and so was I. TB met us at Pros, and we toasted Pop-a Wheela and got the party started. The Strollers show was "balla" and I was so so proud of my little legacy. It reminded me of that scene from Dirty Dancing at t

Grief.. makes me so mad I want to say the f-word. Every time I hear about grief's attack on someone I love, I get the violent urge to swear and spit and shake my fist in the sky shouting, "Don't you dare! Leave my people alone!" And then I get thinking about death and mortality and about how we are all going to die. It hits me that literally every single person that I love, will love, or have loved is going to leave me some day. If I don't leave first. That's awfully depressing. On one hand, it makes me want to run away from everyone.. move to a shack on Walden pond.. just me and some notebooks and friendly mice and bread. When mice friends die or bread goes bad, it's more of an inconvenience than a loss. On the other hand, this realization of mortality makes me want to herd my loved ones like cattle (I'm sure you appreciate the analogy) in a big safe barn where no one can go anywhere and I can go from person to person (or cow to cow) hugging everyone

I live next to an elementary school. They didn't have school today. Most mornings, I find myself annoyed by slow moving cars with cautious parents and school bells and screaming kids in the playground. Maybe I'm annoyed. But maybe I'm jealous. I was jealous today as I was watching the news drinking my coffee and I saw "Vermillion Schools Closed" flash across the TV screen. They had a snow day, which meant no slow moving cars, no school bells, no screaming kids. Not for them; not today. This is a poem by Billy Collins that says it better. Snow Day Today we woke up to a revolution of snow, its white flag waving over everything, the landscape vanished, not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness, and beyond these windows the government buildings smothered, schools and libraries buried, the post office lost under the noiseless drift, the paths of trains softly blocked, the world fallen under this falling. In a while I will put on some boots and step out like

What is seasonal affective disorder (SAD)? Seasonal affective disorder, or SAD, is a type of depression that affects a person during the same season each year. If you get depressed in the winter (YES!) but feel much better in spring and summer (I FORGET WHAT IT'S LIKE..) , you may have SAD. Anyone can get SAD, but it is more common in: People who live in areas where winter days are very short or there are big changes in the amount of daylight in different seasons. (HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO SOUTH DAKOTA--YES!) Women. (THE PERKS CONTINUE) People between the ages of 15 and 55. (OH, GREAT) People who have a close relative with SAD. (3 ROOMMATES IN GRAD SCHOOL=YES) What are the symptoms? If you have SAD, you may: Feel sad, grumpy, moody, or anxious. (CHECK, CHECK, CHECK, AND CHECK) Lose interest in your usual activities. (I NO LONGER LIKE TO READ AND/OR SMILE) Eat more and crave carbohydrates , suc

He used to say: "I can't wait for tomorrow!" We would ask why And he would say: "'Cause I get better looking every day!" And we would remember And we would laugh

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. --Andrew Wyeth

I told KG that I was feeling funky.. and not the kind of in-the-corner-by-the-pool-table-dancing-to-funk-music-in-Carey's kind of funky.. more like the something-bad-is-going-to-happen-or-is-happening-but-i-can't-decide kind of funky. She told me it was normal. And Santa's a freak. K : what's that funky mood about? me : i do not know.. just funky i think I have SAD or something.. 11:32 PM K : if you don't hate yourself in winter, you're not normal 11:33 PM me : ok thats good news K : winter sucks it's too cold. and we can barely walk or see out our windows 11:34 PM and narnia doesn't suck because it's warm...you know? me : but Santa seems pretty happy whats his secret, i wonder K : okay...it's like this... 11:35 PM when i was a little girl, my mom was really homesick... and sometimes she'd cry in the kitchen but whenever i came in, she'd ask me if i wanted hot chocolate or something because it was her job to seem oka

In the first 18 months of a human being's life, a lot changes. From that first traumatic experience of coming into the cold, sterile world to eventually learning how to walk and talk and explore, those first 18 months hold a lot of growth and development. It seems surprising to me, then, to think about how much has changed in my own life in the last 18 months, yet how my own growth and development has been significantly less steady, to say the least. How can these little, tiny people with little, tiny fingers and tiny, little ears move forward, each day growing, learning, and becoming more aware of the world, and yet for me, though there have been days of growing and moving on, there have been plenty of days of digress? I doubt a 18 month old thinks to his or herself, "Man, remember that awful day I was born? That was awful!" (Ignore the obvious cognitive inability of an 18 month old to formulate ideas like this one). But for me, at 23 years old, that traumatic and life a

This is from the movie Penelope . The movie is whimsical and interesting (even if it is for 12 year old tweens). During this scene of the movie, the main character, Penelope, is playing a game of chess with her love interest, Max. I don't know how to play chess.. I'm more of a checkers girl, myself, but I think it is an interesting concept that the Queen's death ends the game. I probably have more to say about this but not today. Penelope: What are you doing instead? Max: [after a pause] Beating you at chess. Penelope: I warned you I'd kill her. Max: Well that's great, because, you know what? As soon as my guys hear what you've done... Penelope: The game will be over, your Queen'll be dead. Max: My King's still pretty... active. You know? Penelope: Once the Queen is dead, the King is useless. Max: What's that about? Penelope: I don't know. Maybe he's too depressed to fight. He really loved her, you know.

"What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you." --Richard Wilbur

One of these days I need to write a post fully explaining my infatuation with "bird" as a word, as an image, as a motto. I have too much to do today, however, so here are some songs by artists that I love that are thematically related.(Insert something creative about birds singing and songs about birds) "The Littlest Birds" by The Be Good Tanyas. The name "Jenna" means "little bird" so this song always reminds me of my dear friend, Jenna. "Birds" by Kate Nash. Kate is everything that is girly, articulate, British, sophisticated, and lovely. She is my idol. "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley. "Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing, 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right." If you say so, Bobby.. "Two Birds" by Regina Spektor. She must have written this song after Bob, when the birds started jumping on the bed. "Songbird" by Eva Cassidy. I think this is the most heavenly song

Today is my first day teaching in 2010, and I think I'm ready. I really like teaching. I like instilling the minds of America's youth with literary and analytical knowledge. I like opening the doors of creativity and exploring the power of language. I like choosing texts that inspire and provoke. What I don't like about teaching..? The students. Though it's not fair to say that I dislike all students (I am one, after all), there are certain students that I have had in the past that have made my job arduous, to say the least. But I'm hoping that this semester will be different. Can't we all just get along?? I meet the fresh batch in a couple of hours. I'll keep you posted..

Did you hear? January 8-14 is National Letter Writing Week. I love written words, especially when those words are personal like "you" and "me", written in pen, and folded in an envelope that's addressed to me. Yeah, I'm a big fan of letter receiving . I suppose I like the writing, too. When I get letters in the mail, I keep them. All of them. I have them saved, folded as they were, and placed in a little, corny wooden chest that my grandpa Donny bought me from a Good Will. He was so proud. In honor of letter writing, a dying (but still kicking) art, I'm going to try to write more letters. Or you know, at least one. Like my buddy Neil Young says: "One of these days, I'm gonna sit down and write a long letter To all the good friends I've known And I'm gonna try And thank them all for the good times together. Though so apart we've grown." Oh, Words... my love language.

I had this conversation with my friend JK's father on facebook the other day. He is a hoot and a half!

I'm using this to teach my students about poetry. I'll let you know how it goes.

"...for some of us, books are as important as anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid pieces of paper unfolds world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet you or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die. They are full of the things that you don't get in life...wonderful, lyrical language, for instance. And quality of attention: we may notice amazing details during the course of a day but we rarely let ourselves stop and really pay attention. An author makes you notice, makes you pay attention and this is a great gift. My gratitude for good writing is unbounded; I'm grateful for it the way I'm grateful for the ocean." — Anne Lamott

Love the beginning.. "This one's for you, Nugget"

I watched Julia and Julia the other night. Meryl Streep's voice drove me nuts, and all that cooking made me hungry and exhausted. It got me thinking about blogging and movies, though. Just like there are different genres of movies, here are some blogs that I follow that seem to fit into certain genres. Foreign film. http://worldmoods.blogspot.com This is a blog of my dear friend EH who is studying in Paris for the year. She loves art, music, photography, travel and all things Parisian culture. Comedy. http://thegreatestoftheseislaughter.blogspot.com/ This is a brand spankin new blog by my friend LS. She is hilarious and insightful, as her blog illustrates daily. Though she will tell you that she should be working on her Master's thesis, I think that her blog is a healthy distraction (for that is what I tell myself). Independent film. http://kmglavin.blogspot.com/ My writer friend and grad school life coach KG is the brilliant mind behind this blog. When she first began blogg

My [unnamed and overly sensitive] friend and I brought out the arrow gear to represent WHS at a High School themed party the other night. We weren't that cool in High School. We still aren't. We lettered in Academics. Enough said. The party was fun but dramatic. All of the High School was there. The quarterback of the football team was two timing the valedictorian and the star of the women's basketball team, and they found out. Shit hit the fan. I drank dirty shirley's all night and watched it all unfold. Then we went and danced at that bar, you know the one. On the way home, we made baby foot prints with our fists in the frost of the backseat windows. I hadn't done that in years.

1. I was reminded that I have never had the chicken pox. 2. My mom took out a life insurance policy in my name. 3. I talked to SG in Alaska and learned that it's warmer there than it is in South Dakota. (-12 here, 12 above there)

This is a good song while you're waiting.. :) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1P4_YCFtkQ

Tonight I had a insightful chat with my good friend JG. We talked about blogging, her impending adventure to Austalia, relationships in general, and New Years Eve. After our conversation, I started thinking about the concept of forgiveness. Just like the book He's Just Not That Into You , forgiveness is an idea that seems so simple in theory but is a lot more difficult to implement into daily life. As humans, as people who wake up in the morning, tie our shoes, drink coffee, listen to the radio, swear, and lay down our heads at night, we all hurt. We hurt each other and we hurt ourselves. Sometimes the hurt is intentional, sometimes unintentional, and sometimes a combination of the two, I think. Sometimes the hurt is a quick pang of pain that is sharp but fleeting. Other times the hurt comes fast and hard. And it stays. This type of hurt can come in an unexpected phone call on a Monday afternoon or it can come as a result of many unanswered and unreturned phone calls. No matter wh

I met up with the Sistas today. First I went to the Multicultural Center where I saw that not much has changed. When I asked Sister Veronica if many people were coming to her Native American Culture class she said, "No" (that hasn't changed). Then Sister Veronica reminded Sister Ida (rather harshly) that it was her turn to stay at the center and miss mass (that hasn't changed). Then Sister Teresa Ann asked me about "the romance department" (which hasn't changed) and when I told her that I was as single as ever, her face lit up and she suggested a calling to Sisterhood (that hasn't changed). After a brief chat, Sister Ida rode with me to the monastery for daily mass. We sang "Piano Man" the whole drive, just like we used to. Mass was great, and I felt like a celebrity. Hugs from swarms of nuns is enough to make anyone feel good about his or herself. I stayed for lunch, liver and onions :( and afternoon prayer :). This is me and the Sistas la

"Well I have been searching all of my days All of my days Many a road, you know I've been walking on All of my days And I've been trying to find What's been in my mind As the days keep turning into night"

You know what are weird? Barcodes. Barcodes are so weird. I don't understand how they work. Who invented them? Are barcodes like snow flakes? Are no two the same? I just don't get it, and I don't think that I ever will. Now my head hurts. Here are some photos that also make my head hurt.

So far, the start of 2010 has been.. well, not good. I mean, I've been surrounded by friends and family, and I've been well fed and loved.. so perhaps I'm being a little melodramatic. But let me explain. The first song I heard after midnight was Nickleback. The first image in my head is sets of barely clothed and barely coherent South Dakotas at Buck's in Sioux Falls (it's worse than the Char, people!). My first meal was McDonald's. Also my goal to have 20 followers by NYE didn't happen. And I haven't blogged in two days. Or opened a book. But I guess I did go to mass and I just ate a carrot, so maybe 2010 isn't completely hopeless. I guess we'll have to wait and see.. Happy New(ish) Year!