wellownedbkup: (lost)
i'm tired, but not nearly enough to go to sleep. dammit. so that means you get my better late than never "what i did for my summer vacation" post. you know, the one i've been promising for the better half of two weeks. ugh. such a procrastinator is i.

so. IT WAS KILLER. THE END.

hahah.

no, but seriously. what i did on my summer vacation was awesome. )

then i came home, found out why i was broke, and then saw that i would be broke for yet another month before i finally got a paycheck.

but it was worth that and my frankenmonster shoes to get to see places i've never been to before. i've never seen love or beauty like i saw there. the friends said that even though they knew we couldn't understand what was going on, they were happy because they finally got to see that we are an international group. that no matter where you go, the love's the same. i heard about two sisters who didn't speak each others' languages talking through scriptures. something about how i always thank god for you in my prayers. you know, even though they'd never met, the love was there. it definitely made me even more sure that louisville is stagnant and i need to get out of here to do more.

i also can't wait to do it again!! this time i shall save before i ever apply so that when the letter comes to say "thanks, you're invited to go", i'll be ready and be able to pay whatever bills i have, plus have fun money left over when i get back. holler.

all my pics are on facebook. links were in the last post. some commentary next to them there. not lots cause i can't remember anything at all. ever.
wellownedbkup: (Default)
you all know that i'm a Jehovah's Witness, right? i made that pretty clear.

to be perfectly honest, y'all also know that i do a bunch of things that JWs aren't supposed to do.


crisis ahoy. tl;dr. please feel free to gloss over. )
this is what i hate about religious discussions. the inevitable breakdown.


i wonder if a hiatus from LJ during december would help. just to get my priorities straight.
wellownedbkup: (Default)
damn you, surfthechannel!! LET ME WATCH MY SHOW OR ELSE!


eta: seriously. spoiler alert )

please to be letting jensen be half-nekkid or get laid on screen next week.
wellownedbkup: (lost)
happy birthday to me
i've turned 23
but nothing's even changed...
happy birthday to me.
wellownedbkup: (Default)
Step One:

* Make a list. Things you want, desire, wish for, whatever. Anything goes.


Step Two:

* It's better to give than to receive. Check out your friends' lists and see if there is any wish you can grant. Spread the love, baby!

My Wishlist: )
wellownedbkup: (Default)
fyi, talking SI here )

i think it has to do with stress. you know those dreams you get when you're under stress? your teeth start shattering. at least, that's what dream analysis says is the link. it's all kinds of fucked up to wake up and see that it's really happening. one of my teeth is chipping. i'm actually picking out bits of a tooth. i'll say that it's... weird. really fucking weird to say the least.
wellownedbkup: (nix cold)
the sun's just rising through the trees at the end of the streete where civilization turns into farmland and fallow when Daniel climbs into his car and drives back to his house. Sophie watches long after he's turned the corner, unseeing eyes being blinded by the rising sun. there's nothing quite like what she feels like right now. no words to describe the cross between shock, love, nostalgia and hope that combines with a bubbling fear in her gut.

in retrospect, she's always been far too talky after drinking cider.

she stretches her hand, surprised to see it so tightly gripping the door jamb. even she can't follow her thoughts. at the time she thinks about how he's a dream come true, she thinks about how long 5 years really is. she thinks about how she's only just gotten used to being by herself, so far distant.

he loves her. she struggles to breathe and shuts the door against the rising sun. she closes her eyes and makes her way to her bed, not even stopping to undress, making her way by touch and stumble. she'll sleep on it.
wellownedbkup: (Default)
We are the people our parents warned us about. ~ Jimmy Buffett

they spend the night talking on the steps leading up from her door. the lights are still off from when she left that morning and all they've got is a shaft of street lights shining through the windows at the door.

it's been two years and she still doesn't quite know how she ought to act around him. the last time they were together even briefly had been a september long past, a weekend with excess company. and no one could do anything more than sidle up to the other and link arms subtly. but in the time between, there've been letters and emails, instant messages and the occasional phone call that has them knowing everything there is to know.

they spend the night talking on the stairs leading up to the rest of her rented flat. she always catches sight of him framed by doorways, and she's not surprised that he tells her he loves her here, framed by the door. what is surprising instead is how she doesn't tell him the same immediately. she questions him about it, and doesn't trust in him. she feels like she's had everything broken away from her before, taken away and torn down so many times that to have someone car for her now feels like the air after a storm-- thick and charged with something she can't place.

and when the sun rises and he's proven to her how much he loves her, it's not surprising that he kisses her in the doorway before going home.
wellownedbkup: (nix cold)
i need a zac efron icon for serious.

or a dance one.




zac efron + waltz on rooftop = IDEAL BOYFRIEND, YO.

[eta: i take it back. zac efron + waltz on rooftop IN THE RAIN = ideal situation + ideal boyfriend]

day 6

Nov. 6th, 2008 08:20 am
wellownedbkup: (nerd)
why the fuck is internet-speak sneaking into my commentary for poetry class? i keep using things like capslock for excitement and IMHO on one guy's poem.... and i asked a dude who wrote a depressed little poem "WHO PISSED IN YOUR CHEERIOS?"

i'm not proud of that.

but. seriously. it's like the only forum where i'm supposed to be intelligent right now and i keep sounding like AOL was my friend or something.



also, damn. i coulda had eye candy all next semester. but i chose to have only 2 days of class. what. the. fuck. derek mong's teaching a poetry class and i really, really, really wanna take it now, but no. i can't. mom won't let me, and it's on mondays and wednesdays instead of tuesdays and thursdays.

and all i did was go over to his office after french and chat for a minute while leaning in the doorway and... that probably makes me a creepy stalker but i can't help it! cause he has an office 2 doors down from my class and it's not like i went purposely searching him out... he told us his office number.

anyway. that was a fun chat. especially being told that he's not coming back to hang with us for a day. said he's too busy with his class. hey, buddy, that'd be an effective argument if you weren't facebook surfing at the time. :)

DEREK FUCKING MONG. seriously. why can't i be one of those easy girls that has affairs with a professor? he's tall, dark, handsome, poetic, intelligent, hot and fucking UNAVAILABLE. :(

*sigh*

day 5

Nov. 5th, 2008 11:46 pm
wellownedbkup: (nerd)
periods fucking suck. cramps suck. being horny and on your period sucks so much worse, it's ridiculous. ugh.
wellownedbkup: (cleverbad)
well hell. that's pretty...

why is it when the world is watching... why is it when America's celebrating, the neighbors shoot off guns? i haven't stopped hearing gunshots since it was announced that he's basically won.

i hope, for his sake and that of the rest of the world, that he does not get assassinated. i wish no harm on him. but the last time anyone set out to make this much change, he was shot.

congrats, senator barack obama. let's hope this next 4 years isn't like the past 8.
wellownedbkup: (angel skeleton)
you know what i hate more than anything?? coming on my period. the cramps, the fatigue... the simple horror of a week where your body just... FUCKS WITH YOUR MIND... until there's nothing left?

yeah. that's what i started feeling like a coupla hours in. and then i got the notion that washing clothes was THE RIGHT THING TO DO.

seriously. what's wrong with my brain? i definitely need something else. like... i dunno... a fucking hysterectomy. would that be so hard? just get rid of that for me please. i don't need kids anyway. JUST STOP THE PAIN.
wellownedbkup: (Default)
pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living---Mother Jones

her dice are like a rosary, decisions made on a roll on the nearest hard surface. bone white, they scratch along sand-blasted fingertips with a series of dots to decide. One dot means wait.

and so she does, and prays for her brothers who are training right now to move in should she make a mistake. of all the things she wants, she wants nothing more than for her brothers to never see this side of their lives. she's seen it enough in the years between her capture and now. they still think they train as gladiators, as if their skills will never be put to use.

her dice are like a rosary, and they fall between two dots and three. they fall between kill and leave.
wellownedbkup: (angel skeleton)
well alright. today? i actually did my homework! i am kinda proud of me in that. not that i don't do my homework. cause i do. sometimes. usually. the day of. but more importantly, i accomplished something major. I MEAN MAJOR.

so, in poetry, we have 10 different workshops to write. this one's number eight, and it's supposed to be "wordplay." whatever that means. that is, to say, it's supposed to be puns, spoonerisms, malapropisms, etc. basically you taking on the english language. which i'm cool with, especially after all the trouble i've had learning grammar in french.

i set out to do something completely insane. look up "contronyms" on your google. you'll get a couple of websites about words that have their antonym AS ITSELF. examples include "cleave," which means both to adhere to and to separate from; "left" as in to leave or what remains; "bolt" and "fast" which both have to do with leaving and with standing still. are we clear here? good.

i just wrote an entire poem of contronyms. not only that, but i also used the words in both senses of the word, which technically doesn't count as repetition. not only that, but i also wrote it to look like the letter Y in honor of the word "cleave"... which was the only contronym i could remember when i first set out to do this. why does it look like a Y? because the first half of the poem can be read across the whole line (despite the space in between), but each half of the line can stand on its own. not until it reaches the join do you actually have to read the line straight across. AMBITIOUS, I KNOW.

so. i? did it. it took me most of the afternoon, but it's glorious!

read it here )

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