Pour mes neveux

If I never accomplish anything but, I want to make you love.

I do, however, wish to warn you. Although love can be the greatest feeling you may ever feel, it can bring on the harshest of pains. I need you to appreciate the pain. Dolly Parton once said, “the way I see it, if you want the rainbow you gotta put up with the rain.” I want you to know that it’s okay to feel pain. It’s human. It’s beautiful. And it is good for you.

What’s not okay is feeling dead inside. Complacency is a very close runner up. No matter how hard your pain is, I want you to always be able to cherish good memories. Don't ever let your heart get hardened. No matter how bitter your heartache makes you, I need you to capture that way that you felt when you first felt love. I’m not talking about family love although I think that is incredibly important too. I’m talking about the kind of love they make movies about.

I don’t know if it’s normal to feel what I once felt but I know I felt joy in the simple idea of a thought of someone. If that even makes sense. Just knowing that there was someone out there that floated on clouds just thinking of me. The way I floated on clouds just thinking of him.

I don’t just need you to love, I need you to be loved. Never accept anything less. There is no point in holding someone close to your heart if they don’t do the same. And don't settle. Don't let you make yourself believe that it's love because you want to say that you loved. When you feel it, you won't have to ask if it is. When you love someone, you'll not only know but others will be able to tell. By the way you can't stop smiling just because you heard their name. Or the way you blush when they just look your way. The way you won't be able to form a complete sentence let alone thought. It will feel almost miserable but also, completely not.

So don't let your heart get sidetracked. Demand only the best.

I need you to know your worth. Because you’re worth everything to me. Never spring for anything less than happiness. But know that happiness, like I was saying, comes at a price. You can’t sit there and safely, humbly coast through life. You must take chances and you must scream at the top of your lungs. You must fall hard. And don’t worry- I may not be there to catch you but I will pick up the pieces I promise. And I might not get them all back and in the right places but you’ll be just as beautiful to me.

And in some weird and twisted ways, you'll feel refreshed, renewed, re-purposed.

And to me, you’ll never mean anything less than everything. I need you to know that. I need you to know that I love you. Perhaps more than you will ever even know. So here is my advice, in rhyming form as I do best.

You must run your body out of breath.

You must show grief for love and hope for death.

You must kiss like it would kill you to not.

You must love. And you must love a lot.

You must run further than you ever could.

You must cry harder than you ever would.

You need to feel heartache. You need pain.

You need rainbows just like you need rain.

You need to love like you’ll never love again.

You need to be the worlds best friend.

I want you to scream until your voice is sore.

I want you to whisper until you must roar.

I want you to sing, loud and unclear.

I want you to release your every fear.

It’s okay to get hurt- I’ll be here for you.

It’s okay to cry, to feel nothing but blue.

So long as you’re feeling, that is okay.

You’ll feel better on some other day.

And no matter what, we’ll do it together.

And I’ll love you best, for always and ever.

la liberté

Leave it up to a veteran on Memorial Day to put things into perspective. In so many words, he has reminded me that we, as American citizens, don't fight for our everyday life or have the need or desire to start a revolution and make big changes because those before us already have. We, as a country, are free. And instead of wishing I could be more like fictional characters in a story book, I should be happy and relieved that I don't face such dangers and impositions. I am proud of my cousin for having risked his life to go make others' more free. I am proud of my great grandpa who fought in WWII and is still well and working because he can be and chooses to be. Perhaps I am even envious of them because they did something I don't think I could ever do. Not only did they prove to be the epitome of physical and emotional strength but they fought for a cause that they felt, neigh knew, was important. They lived far away from home with little to no communication with their family and they succeeded in their mission and they, now, live each breath of their life with pride and with honor and with respect.
Thank you to our soldiers- past, present and future. Words can never express my gratitude.

faux feux

*Inspired by thoughts of comparison between our current, real, present lives in America and the fictional lives of those horrendous people from the Capitol in, you guessed it, Catching Fire (the second book of the Hunger Games trilogy). This isn't a story and it doesn't deserve much thought. Just a throw-up of thoughts. A need to convince myself that I may not do much or mean much as I exist but at least I am not wealthy and glutinous and at least I don't demand others' lives to entertain my own. It can also serve as a subtle reminder that I may not make much of an impact. And also that that should be okay because I am only human. And that's all I ever will be anyway.*
I sit around and I think. I am no longer a body, empowered. I am a soul, sitting. I can eat but that just makes me queasy. I can cook but that will just feed those here with me. I can sleep but all I do anyway is wake up with a headache. I don't want to be queasy. I want my head to stop hurting. I try and think of my purpose. What am I doing? Where am I going? What can I do?
In this modern world, things are as easy as sleeping at eating. And you have to work, usually for the man, to eat and sleep (at least comfortably). But that is all. Those are our struggles. We have nothing to overcome but boredom. We don't have anything to revolt against. Except for, maybe, our revolting selves. There is nothing demanding our attention except for, maybe, in places far enough away to lack the need for immediate attention. So we're removed from it. Enough so that we often don't even understand or acknowledge that maybe there is somewhere out there that needs us or could, at the very least, use us.
Instead we sit here, useless. Futile. We are satisfied enough being ugly. We are selfish and dull. And yet, we're looked up to. And we are proud. You know, to be American. To be the privileged elite.
Even if we can prove to make a difference in our lifetimes, what will that mean? Near or far. We can teach kids to deal with death, to be strong and confident individuals, to stand their ground but, in the end, we're just people and they're just people. We can support a struggling nation and provide them with stability but in the end they are just a nation of people and we are just a nation of people. And, in the end, we will die and they will die. And until then we will just be people and they will just be people. We will simply exist. And then we won't anymore.
Maybe, past our physical existence, we will survive in stories of history. But then, we will just be words. We may be immoral but even as our words reach those that may exist in the future, they will still be humans. Just as we were humans. And they will dye. I saw a quote the other day, "Our purpose in life is to give life purpose." I guess I just still don't understand. It's just life. Until it's death and eventually it ceases to exist.
We are a nation of decency, above all else. And a generation of tolerance. We are not evil. We just are. And that's decent. That's tolerable. We sit around and argue about freedoms and who has the rights to do what and who we should be but it doesn't really matter anyway because we're not under someone else's direct control. And we are not, our selves, in full control either. No one wants to have that responsibility even if they could. We simply are. We exist. And we accept that. And we will continue to do so until we don't. And then we won't. And that's all. That's that.

ne lire pas

*Spoiler Alert* If you haven't already read the Hunger Games (and still might do so eventually)- don't read this post yet. It kinda sorta gives away a little bit of the plot. Ish.

It's been a long time since I remember feeling inadequate. Every once in a while, I get the mid-life crisis, don't know where I'm going with myself, feeling but I seem to be able to off put that feeling by reassuring myself of what all I have. I know I have family and friends that I love and that love me and I have an easy life and I'm blessed to be healthy and everything. I know. And usually, I am happy being single so much so that I don't even look at it as me being single, just me being happy. With myself. Without needing someone else.
But thanks to the Hunger Games, I feel the tides changing. I feel that feeling I felt back in high school when I watched Tristan and Isolde. I was in a funk for weeks just wishing I could live in a time like that or be a part of a life like that. Of a love like that. I was pissed at the world for being able to create such beauty on screen and even more pissed that it couldn't be recreated in real life.
Love doesn't tear nations apart. Love doesn't conquer all.
The Hunger Games doesn't even create that intensely deep of a passion, of a true true-love story but it describes that feeling so well. The feeling of being safe and comforted in someone else's arm, of wanting to be noticed. The pain of having to consider living without the other.  Sooner or later, I am going to quit watching these kinds of movies and reading these kinds of books. It's not interesting in a way that keeps me eager and willing to learn more. It's not compelling or motivating for me to seek change because I am certain it is impossible. It's like trying to seek magic. I know it doesn't exist but still this idea seems so much more tangible.
It's like love is my carrot and I'm just the bunny aimlessly chasing after it, never willing to accept that it will forever stay, as it always has been, just slightly beyond my reach. It's depressing. It's the media's way of shoving it in our faces that we will never compete with fiction. Whether that was their goal or not. And I hate it.

café! et qu'est-ce que c'est?

Two things I've been absolutely addicted to as of late? Caffeine, especially coffee, and news. Now, the caffeine part is no news. I've been addicted to caffeine for a long time now. But the news thing, that's new for me.
For the same reason I never really appreciated history lessons, I had a hard time following the news. None of it seemed relevant. It happened somewhere else to someone else and had/has no immediate (if any) effect on me. I'm not proud of it but you could say I was apathetic. Still, I have a hard time caring about and/or focusing on most history lessons but I have learned to appreciate more of the surrounding world currently.
This started because I felt like I stopped growing as a person. I graduated with my bachelor's and haven't decided on if/when/where to go back to school yet. My job can be challenging but it doesn't necessarily extend much beyond the brick and mortar. A goal that I have tried to set for myself is to always strive to be better. Smarter, stronger, somehow better. I decided to start listening to NPR in the mornings.
NPR is a gateway news feed. Soon enough, I would flip by a news channel and flip back to find myself sucked in partly because I wanted to see if I could learn anything new and partly to show off (even if only to myself) that I had already learned about the current topics during my A.M. NPR session. Now I read headlines when I see them on my e-mail homepages or stories when friends post them on facebook.
Furthermore, the teacher in me wants to share all of my learned lessons with everyone else. Again, this is partly to show off what I know about current topics. Still, it is also to learn others' input and to just spread the wealth of knowledge to those I know and especially to those I love.
I feel like my description thus far of my new news-appreciation is mediocre. Many have shared similar relationships with the media for years. What pushes it into an addiction is that I feel the burden of wanting to know everything, usually hopefully before I have to find out from someone I know. It's part of my "discoverer's syndrome". Yes, I diagnosed myself. Yes, I made up that diagnostic term.
This may seem narcissistic or stubborn or something but I have a hard time accepting/appreciating things (especially tv shows) that I don't feel I would have "discovered" without the help of someone close to me. While I can appreciate that they are willing to share with me the things that they like, it almost subconsciously bothers me that I am depending on them to supply me with knowledge/recommendations/etc. I spent a few years ignoring shows like Scrubs because someone else had told me about them. Once I started watching Scrubs and started to realize what an awesome show it is, I realized what was going on. So you could say I'm working my way through the stages of recovery, I guess. I'm at admittance and acceptance.
I just need to know more. Nothing fuels my mind and reading awareness/comprehension, I feel, better than caffeine. So there you have.

Coffee! And what is that?

What's new? What's happening? What went on? What can I do? What can I learn?



Ever inquisitve, ever challenging, ever growing, ever beautiful,
m'appelez Bella

le problème c'est que je t'aime

Yes, my heart is broken
but that is okay.
I'm saving up my happiness
for a rainy day.

No, I don't need fixing.
I don't miss love at all.
The awkward bits, the loneliness,
The way, in love, you "fall"

I'm not much for emotion.
I certainly don't like pain.
For me, myself and I,
Love is nothing like a "gain"

I'm better off without him.
No, I don't miss love at all.
Even on my saddest nights,
I'm not waiting for his call.

I don't need a man to hold me.
I don't want a better half.
Loving him was hurting.
Now I'm smiling. Now, I laugh.

Yes, I'm glad I met him.
Yes, we had good times.
I never will forget him-
He's inspiring these rhymes.

So now I'm moving forward.
I've been sad but now I'm fine
I don't want a fairy-tale ending
I just want my life to be...
                                       mine?

l'étudies

I would like to propose a new field of studies. If this already exists somewhere, let me know! I will definitely look into it. Before I jump into the details, I would like to thank Pinterest for the inspiration. Oh, Pinterest.
Every day I log on, I see pictures of places I have never been and of foods I would have never thought to create, of clothes I would have never thought to wear let alone design. All of these new and wonderful things inspired me. Thank you Pinterest.
I propose a study of the world, in it's entirety. Mostly culturally. The world would just be "Earth" if it wasn't for the people that make an impact. As a human race, we have the ability to care, to change, to create. That is a constant throughout the world. The purpose of these studies would not be to break language barriers or to learn one culture (or any) in its entirety. The purpose would be to get a broader concept of what goes on all over the world.
Sure, they have exchange programs where one student can live with a family of another culture and learn more about their structure- their schools, their language, their society. As humans, we are constantly evolving. Exchange programs have existed for long enough to seek improvement and growth. We should be expanding beyond one other culture, beyond learning languages. We should be learning about people.
Things identified as cultural basics can vary from one person to the next. Language may make it easier to learn about the differences but there are many other ways to read a culture than by understanding what they are saying. Even just on the plain of communication, there is body language and there is expression through a multitude of media- music, dance, adornment.
My proposal is to experience, understand and/or interpret these other ways to "read" culture and take something from it. Let me be clear- As americans, the purpose is not to bring it back and Americanize it although I'm sure that would make for an easily expandable business market. I know it can be easy to sell someone on something from another culture, especially if it seems new to them and especially if it seems like something that will be widely accepted by their current culture.
There are a few reasons for me to propose it as a class instead of a personal experience. First, I think it would be much easier and much more likely for others to participate if it were organized by someone at the university level. This point isn't so much to have translators but just to have a plan. People have a tendency to talk about doing things but fall through with it if they don't initially set up a concrete plan. Also, this way general observations can be shared and these findings could potentially inspire others to go too. Lastly, it is a proposal to improve on the mainframe of university studies as they are today. I am encouraging all levels of growth from personal to world-wide growth, global adaptation, and a giant step towards an evolution of the learning process.

penser

The thing is, when you're smart enough to know what is going on in the world, you can't help but over-think things. At one point in my life, if you would have come to me with your problems, telling me you think too much, I may have believed that you and I were the only ones. As I meet more and more sophisticated individuals, I realize that this is common. And what is "too much" really?

The other day, an intelligent individual shared with me a quote. After googling what I could remember of the quote, I believe I have found that it was originally by Jonathon Safron Foer. It goes like this:

 "I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness a million times but never once into it."

Sucks doesn't it?Now, it is obvious that the only individuals free of this over-analyzing curse are the individuals too dumb to realize it exists. And who wants to be that either?

Either way, I'd say that no-one is truly satisfied with everything about life all of the time. And that's okay. It's okay to be sad, to be forsaken, to be thoughtful. I've said something like that before and I know that I've already said this, "It's okay to be happy." No matter what wrongs exist in the world, there isn't any single individual that can fix them all. Sometimes,we just need to accept the things that surround us, work on what we can and acknowledge that that will have to be enough. It is not going to do anyone any good to just be constantly thinking ourselves out of happiness.

tu es triste. je suis désolée

Birds and Tears. Words and Fears.

If only I could be the wings on your caged bird

If only I were the songs of a dove

If only the swans shared their beauty

If only I, solely, was your love

But you are the cage that surrounds me

You don’t even know I’m inside

Maybe, when once you had found me,

You wouldn’t be lacking such pride

If you could see beauty that profounds you

You’d be a happier man

If you could accept me, my beauty

You’d love me for the who that I am

If only I could be there when you cry

Even just as the tear on your cheek

I’d comfort you, falling, and then dry

I would make your future less meek

I’d wash away hurt and stay close by

I’d be with you while you felt pain

I would let time pass and just stand by

I would, for your world, be the rain

And in the end, you’d see my beauty

In the end, you’d feel me again

In the end, I’d die for you, mutely

In the end, I’d have nothing to gain

But it’s not about winning or losing

The battle, it stirs deep within

For longing and longing, I’ve lost you

And I’ll never see you again.

m'appelez belle

Call me beautiful. That is  what I want to hear.
I want to know that I leave an impression. I want to make a difference. If I am nothing else to the world but beauty, at least I will have been that.
Don't call me pretty. Pretty is petty. Beauty is all encompassing. Beauty blooms, from the inside, out. Calling me beautiful is like calling me meaningful.
When you call me beautiful, you tell me you care. When you tell me I'm beautiful, I know you noticed. When I am called beautiful, I feel strong.
If I am beautiful, I am useful.
As a beautiful human being, I am kind. As a beautiful woman, I am inspiring. As a beautiful sister, aunt, daughter, friend, I am loving.
With my beauty, I hold purpose. With my beauty, I captivate. With my beauty, I love.

l'avenir

It's a slippery slope, living for the future. The farther you get into it, the farther you feel from it, the farther you start reaching. I was inspired by Yeah Dave's guide to livin' the moment when I read it a couple years ago. Reading some of his stuff was like a revelation. There were some obvious things that I remember having heard all my life and I feel would be common sense even if no-one ever told me but there were also some things that I felt brought me to life.
I haven't focused on it so much in the day to day life lately but he recommended to each and every day enjoy: something beautiful, something humorous and something delicious. Within a few months after reading this, I was noticing to myself all that was beautiful, all that was funny and all that was yummy in a day. I often felt proud of this and would even share these things with my friends. Whether that meant sharing the actual experiences or sharing my tales of these experiences pretty much depended on where they were. I remember feeling energized and revitalized. I felt as though I was I doing something good even if I didn't really have a purpose.
It is hard to be happy when you are weighing yourself down with the pressure of having to matter to everyone. To be honest, if you didn't try at all I would be willing to guarantee that you would still matter to at least one person. And it's the people that you matter to without trying that you should be happiest about, should be closest to, should try to matter for.
It takes a really decent person to care about and care for other people. I don't mean to just care about and for your family- that usually comes naturally. And I don't just mean someone who does things for others. A lot of people do things for others just for the gratitude. Some don't help others out for others' sake. Some people do it for some sort of self gratification in the end. It's the people who just do it because they see a problem out there and they hope for a better ending. The people that share concern for the future of not just themselves but of others.
That got off on a tangent. I was talking about the future so I guess that was coming back but still. What I am trying to say is that I am finding it very hard to live in the now.
In interviews, people like to ask where you see yourself in five years. It completely freaks me out that I have absolutely no idea. It freaks me out thinking that if I were to instantly jump five years into the future, it would be like waking up an amnesiac with no idea of how I got there. I don't know where I'm going and I don't know what I'm doing to get there...

les temps froid

There are many reasons why winter sucks. The first hundred reasons? Snow. Snow makes driving (and walking) dangerous. It makes your daily commute at least double. It gets dirty and ugly quickly and covers everything that reminds you that there is still  or ever was an eco-system, a life form, on Earth. It's a bitch to shovel and scrape  sidewalks, driveways, cars, etc. Need I say more? No. Everyone else living in a wintry climate knows. And for the rest of humanity, why should I bring 'em down? The biggest reason I hate winter is because the cold means I cannot wear my "good" clothes. I love dresses and skirts more than any other clothing item. Some days, I even like crop tops. Especially those passed down by a friend. Or super vintage, passed down by a great aunt.  I guess I have been kinda lucky this year with the "lack" of snow but I went to wear this shirt one day and then realized that I would freeze as soon as I got to work. Because the doors don't always close. And/or the heat doesn't always feel warm. So, instead I took some pictures. To remind me of days to come.  In the summertime, I like to dress up in my creations and set-up self-modeled, self-shot photoshoots. It's fun to play dress up and work on sharing my creations with others. These, in the pictures, are not my creations. Some jeans from work, shoes from Macy's and super cute shirt from one of my best friends. I love the yoke and buttons on the back <3 And I am liking how the shirt , standing with arms down, just meets the jeans. Like they were made for each other.

Brother-face bought me a domain name last year. We are currently working on setting it up. It is mostly just him writing code and whatever you do to set up a web page. I'm more like the creative director. Which is always fun of course.  More to come. I'll share the link and stuff when it is more presentable : )

les biscuits et les verres

Thanks to Pinterest, your average Joe can dream up all sorts of creations. Or mimick all sorts of others' creations. Here is my Peanut Butter Hug "cookie". 

I was going for a sweet pink so the hug looked more like zebra stripes but I got a humble rose color. I'm not disappointed. They taste pretty good. I used an idea that I found at dailynibbles.com. However, I did not read it well enough to find that I should have used gel food coloring. I used some target off-brand liquid drops. Probably the cause of the humbled mumble-bumble rosy pink instead of the hot look-at-me pink.

(That was just what I had at the house.) And when she refers to the Peasandthankyou.com recipe I again used just what was around the house. So dairy-margarine instead of not and plain creamy Skippy peanut butter instead of natural. Things like that...

I also tried breaking beer bottles down into glasses. I read about this technique in a magazine my cousin had last year or a couple years ago. Seeing it on pinterest reminded me that I wanted to try that. So I finally did. Once again, I used what was around the house instead of what was recommended. For this, I looked at about.com's several pages on "How to cut class with string"/similarly named topics to get the gist of it. I ended up soaking some pink kitchen cotton crochet yarn that has been sitting in my sewing room for a while now. After a few different trials -oh there were errors, obviously- I wound the yarn around the bottle a couple/few times, cut and tied it and took it off to soak in, in the end, lamp oil. I tried nail polish remover but it just didn't burn long enough. Maybe not enough acetone. 

I don't know why but there was an unopened gallon of lamp oil in the basement. It has to have been sitting there for at least five years. Probably. I used some machine-washable gloves that I bought for my printing and dyeing class to push the soaked yarn back into place. Sitting at the side of the bath tub with a metal tub full of cold water under my arms, I took off one glove to strike a match and light the yarn. While sliding my hand back into the glove, I watched and turned the bottle as the yarn self-extinguished. (Note to self: Oven mittens are not necessarily flame retardant. But I learned that a different way, don't worry.)

As soon as it was done, I dunked it in the cold water. After some attempts, I heard the "pop" that I read about and the glass was broken. But not neatly like I thought it would be. And repeat. ish. I'm planning out working on the kinks. I think the big chunkers of edgy glass are from the yarn-knots. I plan to trim/tuck them better next time. Also, I am thinking that it would create a more consistent/leveled break to put the glass in the water vertically instead of randomly rolling it into the cold. Trying to make sure that the hot ring goes cold all at once should work. Hopefully. We'll see. I gave up for the day after two failed-ish attempts. And then made the afformentioned cookies. That failed-ish.

 This was my first attempt (above). It went through a few different burning yarns and cold-dunkings. There were a lot of rugged edges left and as a result a lot of little pieces were still breaking off in the sanding process. For once in my life, I actually kept my gloves on for the project (except of course to light the match).

The one with the label was my second attempt. You can see that it is smoother but still not necessarily something someone will want to drink out of. Oh right, did I mention that instead of a diamond emery, I used a 400grit sandpaper? I'm looking into getting the emery. I sanded out the sharp parts, it is perfectly safe for rubbing your finger all over. Trust me, I did so again and again and again. It just needs a good sanding down for obvious aesthetic purposes, you know?

lire

Reading Palahniuk doesn't make you feel good about yourself. You don't become a better person having read his works. Your life becomes no more significant than it was before, necessarily.
It's like looking at Picasso's works. You don't admire them for their beauty. They don't show that you have a true appreciation of art. Or abstract even.
These men, their works, inspire. And not in the, "I'm going somewhere," "I can achieve greatness," "the world is my canvas," sort of way. But in a way more subtle. They challenge you to think. To look back at all that is crooked and easily undefined or more commonly over-defined.
Palahniuk, like Picasso, is giving you another approach to observing, to viewing. To thinking. To appreciating. To approaching life. He takes your world and, with words, tears it apart from the seams. He realizes all vantage points and selectively adheres new perspective to parts/people/places you already know.
And he is not doing it for you. He just does it because he can. If he knew that not a single person would read it, he would probably still write it anyway. Because he is a writer. Because that is what he does. Because he thought it. Or knew it. Or figured it out. And even if he weren't guaranteed readers, in written form, it would at least have the potential to be read. Even if just by himself again, years down the road.
How selfish would we be to keep our thoughts to ourselves? To keep our epiphanies, our revelations, our discoveries limited to those who epiphanized, revolutionized, discovered.
Still- How selfish would we be to expect that someone actually cared about every thought that we've had? Or any? Any epiphanies, any revelations, any discoveries. They may have seemed significant to us but why do we care if or hope that someones else learns of/from them?
Even the diary of Anne Frank, presumably written for her own eyes, is shared and studied and applied to modern day morals, philosophies, history lessons, etc.

La vie moderne

I know I'm not above or beyond the modernity of today's American society but I am glad that I did not participate on Friday. I have participated in Black Friday shopping events in other years. But I have to admit that I would rather set back and relax. Spend time with my family. Instead of working or shopping at six in the morning, I wake with the sun (or later) and walk around in the mountains while my Grandpa repeats stories I've heard repeated ever since I can remember visiting.
Instead of dodging crazy drivers and shopping carts, I retreat into a place where technology is next to magic. A couple years ago, we spent some time showing my grandpa and his brother where to find the power button on a computer their friend gave them and explaining that a simple push of that button will turn the computer on. We showed them how to open simple games/files like solitaire and word documents that the friend had put on there for them. We then helped them "fix" their "mp3" player which was really a cd-player/radio and the only thing that was "wrong" was that they needed to flip the switch to CD to play their cds.
Instead of stampeding over people to get the newest digital camera at a ridiculously cheap price, I'm taking pictures of such gorgeous scenery that even my family living here still falls in love with every fall. Instead of carrying around a digital wishlist on my smart-phone trying to make sure I get everything checked off, I'm retreating into such a technologically-challenged mountainside where even Verizon loses signal.
Instead of scoping out deals and driving miles to save a few bucks, I'm spotting "buck-rubs" where bucks rub their antlers on the trunks of trees. Instead of buying a new flat screen TV, I'm retreating to a home where the TV has been off since everything was switched to digital.
Instead of going broke on shopping extravenganzas we toss around a few coins while playing hours of poker. Instead of worrying about outrunning an angry sales-hunting mob, I'm worrying about outrunning a bear, or mountain lion if we see one.
I have to admit that I was not surprised this year to find out that people have been shot and pepper-sprayed over deals this year. The stores, and those who shop at them like that are just begging for something like that to happen. And, while the previously described pass-times are not something I usually partake in, I would much rather  go on adventures like that than feed into the craziness that is Black Friday.

merci beaucoup

I wonder if Native Americans celebrate thanksgiving like our family does. My great great grandma on my father's side was half Cherokee. That might not say a lot to most. That certainly doesn't make me Cherokee or anything but I think most would be surprised that I still knew her for about ten years of my life. We have a young family and I'm thankful for that.

 I'm thankful that I met my Ma Hattie (my great great grandmother) and at least five great grandparents. I had a pretty close relationship with my great grandmother on my mom's dad's side. And I'm thankful for that. I still have a great grandpa and he always manages to get the entire family together when he makes it back up here. He lives in Alabama, a survivor of the second world war and of two cancers. Still, to me, he seems healthy as ever. He's a strong man. Still working, still walking, still hiking. He has stories.

I'm incredibly thankful for him. I'm thankful for my grandparents all of whom are still living. Though I don't see my dad's parents as much, I still feel close to them. Even though my grandpa on dad's side never remembers me, I am still proud to be related to him. I still see him every year for Thanksgiving and sometimes for Easter. 

When telling a co-worker that I was going to Kentucky to see family, he asked if I was from there. Before I could answer, he noted that even if I wasn't I probably had roots there and that's probably why I'm so nice.

If you've never been to Kentucky, you might not understand. Everybody is sweet as sugar down here. 

A lot of times, when you give someone a compliment, they want one back. Not here. Palahniuk talks in some books about how people only ask you about yourself so that you'll ask them about theirs. Not here. 

They are a simple folk. And I do not mean that in a connotative way. You know all those movies where people get so caught up in technology, so lost in their agendas that they lose track of their real lives? They lose contact with their family, they forget what the real world looks like, feels like. They take the Earth and their loved ones for granted... That doesn't happen here. Here, they probably haven't seen one movie like that let alone the several that could fit into that category.
My grandpa here is a strong man. He is certainly a working man though an accident many years back claimed him unfit to work. Instead he works around the house. The thing about my grandparents is that they all used to party. They were those beatniks you see in old fashion photos. Blue jeans and white tees. Cigarettes rolled in the sleeves even if they didn't smoke. Everyone of them drove a motorcycle for at least some time. They're all calmer now but they sure can tell a story. And they really have a bunch of nice old photos time.
If you ever get the time, and haven't done so before and the option is still available for you, you should look at your grandparent's photos. So I'm thankful for my grandparents and for all of their stories and their pictures and all this time I've had so far to get to know them.
I'm thankful that I have roots in Kentucky. I'm thankful that I have strong, smart, hardworking role models with hearts of gold. I'm thankful to be so grounded. To have the opportunity to experience the modern world daily and be brought back to "real" life at least once a year.
I'm thankful for my brain. I see so many people that can't multi-task or focus long enough to read. I'm thankful that I had such encouraging, teaching-savvy parents. I'm thankful for my ability and eagerness to learn. It crushes me to see my nieces and nephew say things like, "I don't need to know math. A calculator can do that for me." Or, "I already took the quiz, I don't need to remember that anymore." I know I've said that a few times but I really do try to remember what I'm taught. At least now I guess.
I'm thankful for those angels- my nieces and nephew. I can't imagine a life without them. They each have such unique qualities that make me proud to be their aunt. I really am thankful for all of my family.
I can't even imagine how I could have possibly turned out without any single one of them. And I'm glad that, for the most part, they're all healthy.
Thanksgiving may have been started as a celebration of our taking land from the native Americans and then settling peacefully with them and may have continued as a sort of patriotic holiday but I only ever look at it as a day most of us get off of work where we can spend time with our loved ones and be thankful for them. It's a day to look back on our lives and ignore our regrets. Reminisce on the good times and really explore what makes us happy, what keeps us going. Whatever I have to be thankful for today, I have been thankful for before and will be thankful for again. And I'm thankful for having this day to look back and be thankful for it all.
Thank you for reading. Call me beautiful.

je n'oublierai jamais

In high school, I had planned on going to Arizona for spring break with my boyfriend and his family. We made plans to walk over and see Mexico. Since I had been to Arizona for a short while once before, I knew there would be a lot of scenic opportunities that I would want to catch on film (or, as our times would have it, catch digitally). And, since this would be my first time riding a plane and my first time leaving the country, I just knew I had to take pictures.
I researched digital cameras online and bought one of the most expensive cameras that were out at the time. Of course, I only picked the most expensive because it had the best reviews. One of the key factors in my decision making was that it had the fastest start-up of available cameras. I wanted to be able to whip out my camera at a moments notice and have a picture in less than a second, in case we were driving by or something was flying by.
I took hundreds of pictures on that vacation and I'm sure at least thousands that year. Soon, everything I did had to be caught on camera.
On the fourth of July, I was watching fireworks through my digital screen (not even through a view-finder because, again, I had a fancy digital camera). Hardly a picture turned out and before I knew it, the fireworks were over.
I had an epiphany soon after- that I had to stop living my life through a digital screen. I missed seeing the gun powder flaming in the sky in various hues right above my head. I started bringing my camera with me less and less.
My mother and I took a trip to Paris. I noticed her doing the same thing when we saw les feux d'artifice à la Tour Eiffel (fireworks at the Eiffel Tower). I kindly reminded her to just sit back and watch the show. It was probably one of the coolest things I have ever seen. There was an entire light show backing up the fireworks, covering the entire face of the Eiffel Tower. A history of Paris was dancing around in bright lights as things went flailing from the many levels of the structure.
So this was a time for me when I had somewhat turned my cheek to cameras. I felt the experience was better off emblazoned in my mind than in digital storage somewhere. To be honest now though, I miss Paris and I wish I could look back at more of the unique things we saw. Those moments when I wanted to capture them all, completely in my memory. To just absorb the reality of the moment.
I wish I had some sort of photographic evidence of the homeless lady harassing the beer-bellied man asleep on a bench, trying to help him birth his twins. It feels like a soft image, fading more still, and I remember the story more and more but can picture it less and less.
Ah, to have those memories. To be able to pass those stories on with photographic evidence. Its a fine line I draw: to live life through a lens/screen or just through experiences and memories? That is the question.

la vie d'ennui

I know that the Bell Jar is well known for it's relevance to humanity. Though many people can say that they've never considered suicide, especially not by oven, I think most people (if not all) can relate to at least a moment described in this book. Plath struggles to find charm in the things she feels should be charming. It seems as though everything is part of a love-hate relationship. She either loves to hate something or hates to love it.
I am still reading it, slowly, but the part I think I relate to most (and most people I know can relate to as well) is where she talks about her future. She describes her possible future outcomes as being mapped out like a fig tree. There are so many options out there but she can't decide which branch to reach for and she just keeps putting off making a decision. Meanwhile the figs grow old and rotten.
I wish I had a passion stronger than most. Sometimes I think that one of the dumbest choices I have ever made was to major in a field of art. Partly because I feel so uninspired sometimes. And, though I love fashion and everything to do with it (designing, creating, merchandising, purchasing, etc) I feel torn as a human being for choosing something so materialistic. I know that when I was deciding to go into design, I wanted to make a difference but I still don't know how to do so.
Ideally, I would like to bring acceptance to the world of all body types and their related adornments. But at the same time, I don't want to accept the growing rate of obesity. Not because it is unpleasing aesthetically, but because of the health concerns.
And, as far as culture is concerned, there are some things that I believe lose meaning when they are accepted by and eventually lost into a culture not their own. For instance, the Americanization of kimonos: once used for ceremonial purposes and/or to signify such categories as class/wealth, beauty, importance, wisdom, and honor. Adaptations of such are mass-marketed to the kill-all culture and Americans wear (wore) them around as the hottest new trend, the latest look for look's sake.
There are still plenty of people out there, living in America even, that are knowledgeable, respectful and proud of their heritage but there are also, sadly, many who have no clue. I, for example, feel almost ashamed when the topic arises because I honestly don't know much about my family's past. I believe the majority of my ancestors came from England.
I said "almost ashamed" because there are days when I feel no connectivity to the past. I don't see why I should bother getting to know my ancestors if they didn't stick around long enough to get to know me. And if my family doesn't voluntarily educate me on my past, I don't think they feel it is all that important either.
Still, some days, I wish I was proud of our past. I dream of stories I could tell friends and growing-up family members (and those to come) of how our names mean something and how we are a family that earned our keeps. But I am afraid my family is one of the families that got swept up in the modern world where our biggest concern is the future. Even then, it's only for the near future. We are normally only concerned with the futures of ours and of the people we know and love presently.
And then we have Chuck Palahniuk to remind us that, "this is [y]our life and its ending one minute at a time."

bisous bisous

Sometimes I think all allergens settle in the back of my mouth, making my throat and the roof of my mouth itch like crazy.

I can't stand when someone I'm dating calls me babe or baby but I don't mind when others do. Hun/hon/honey, I only want to hear from someone I am dating. But I still don't want to hear it often. Anyone and everyone is welcome to call me "love". I absolutely love it : ) Or "beautiful"

It drives me crazy when people respond to "Hi, how are you" by asking the same question. It is okay to also ask, but at least answer it first. 

I am so terribly afraid of spiders and bees that my heart still races for a while after they're no longer in my view.  Even after being in a car accident, I was calm and collected until I saw a spider crawling near my feet but I just tried to hide the fear as I casually stepped away.

I can't think of anything else that scares me, even just a little bit.

If you are going to try to scare me, you should probably wear a helmet, a cup and maybe shoulder/elbow pads because it won't phase me mentally but my body does have reflexes when prompted.

I can hold more liquor than one would think, based on my petite physique. But that doesn't mean I've never over-done it.
I've never smoked anything in my life but I have dreams where I am addicted to cigarettes and I think I can really tell what it would actually feel like. Sometimes, I crave them in the day time. Especially if I'm stressed out.
I don't get stressed out easy or often but when I do get stressed out, I go all out.
My best friend has maybe seen me cry three times in my life and most other people I know have never. Even when something minor is bugging me and I don't feel like crying at all, sometimes having my dad around just makes me break into tears and I still don't really get how that works.
I think the world of my nieces and nephew. I have about the same visitation as a divorced parent gets and when they're not in school, I see them even more.
My family means a lot to me, as they have raised me to feel. This is how I know they'll always be there for me in whatever ways possible even if/when I move away.
I hate being cold more than anything in the world. If I am cold, I feel angry and have a hard time concentrating on anything but my misery. I have never been to California but I feel it is the perfect place for me to live.
If love at first sight is actually possible, I should have gone to Italy this summer. I have never felt the same way about a guy as I felt about one whose name I never actually heard. I only read it off a scrap-paper with his name and number that he handed to me after leaving my workplace and coming back with it already written.
I wish I was raised bilingual because it was very difficult for me to learn the French that I learned in University and retaining it is even harder since I find hardly anyone around me speaks it.

I feel accomplished when I empty a bottle of lotion or a tube of toothpaste.

I believe three years ago was the first time I cooked a grilled cheese.Three boyfriends-cooking-for-me later and I can prepare meals all by myself : P It makes me proud when my nieces ask for my "breakfast potatoes" which is really an easy, quick recipe I learned from my last ex.  Every time I break up with someone, even if I'm doing the dumping, I feel really down but in the end, I always feel better off single.

I love kids and a lot of people point out how great I am with them but I honestly never see myself having any. Maybe that will change in a few years. But maybe not- don't get your hopes up.

I think Chuck Palahniuk is a literary genius and I feel ashamed for never even daring to think about having half as much courage as anyone of his created characters have.

Sometimes I feel incredibly inspired but get almost shy to draw things out or start a creative creation process because I'm afraid I won't be able to translate what's in my head to real life. And that would be embarrassing.

Whenever someone says phenomenon or phenomena, I think of the Dr. Pepper commercial where they sing something that sounds like "meh na men ah" followed by some cheery "do"s. 

When people say, "but, um" I think "bu dum bum" like comedic drums.

Ever since teachers started pointing out when people use fillers such as "like" and "um," I have tried to omit them from my speech. Sometimes, instead, I start a sentence over an over again until I figure out a way to word things because I try my best to avoid those and feel awkward sometimes just pausing instead.

In some short quirks-biography of a girl I knew, I read that she hated the sound of people chewing. That never used to bother me but it does now. It actually drives me so bizerk that I dismiss myself from the room before I end up saying something so as not to make the chewer self-conscious.

I don't like the spoiler on my car because I know they have a purpose on sports cars but are just used for looks on normal cars-to make them look sporty and I feel like a poser.

rien de nouveau

Murphy's law says that anything that can go wrong will but I would like to draw emphasis to the tense in which this law is spoken and change just that. When you are talking about anything that can go wrong, I believe you are talking about limitless possibilities. I don't believe in planned destinies. As people, we make decisions and for every decision we make there are consequences or at least subsequent events.
In order for everything that can go wrong to actually go wrong, you would have to be able to make every possible decision at the same time. You would have to cover all bases. Break off into multiple dimensions. Because, at any given time, you could be presented with decisions that have more than one or two outcomes. Each outcome can go wrong in multiple ways so long as you don't believe in having only one planned, mapped out "destined" future.


Looking back, however, if we were given the same decisions to make in the same circumstances like going back in time, I believe we would make the same decisions because we would have the same information, same experiences and same state-of-mind. I don't think our life decisions are mapped out until after we've already made them. It's almost like Timequake by Vonnegut. Except for when they go back in time, they still have a memory of what happened the first time. And, even if they wanted to make new decisions, given their knowledge of the outcomes, they simply couldn't because they were forced to stick with the "map" that they already created living through that time once.
I think, if you blame all the wrong stuff on Murphy's law, you are slacking to acknowledge your own faults. It's easy to brush your mistakes off, saying that anything that could go wrong did, and leaving it at that. Own up that things may have gone better if you made different decisions. Admittedly, this is how we learn as people.
A friend posted on Facebook, "Everyone in life lives with regrets. Those who say they don't are admitting that they havent learned anything from their mistakes."
But I argued that you can admit to having made mistakes, and learned from them and still not regret making them because you did end up learning something.
In the end, we live, we love, we learn and we leave this world "the same decaying organic matter as everything else."