Fiction...

...titled... umm... "Mojito"

You guys asked for some fiction... here we go...

Alec stepped into the hotel bar. It was dimly lit, which he was happy about, because he was not in any mood for his few acquaintances to bug him about another drink or going to the weight room or some such other thing. He just wanted to relax a little before going to bed. Something that would clear his mind. He found a small table in the corner and munched on some peanuts.

He couldn't figure out what he was feeling about Her. Why did he feel so empty inside when he thought about the past 6 months? They were fulfilling months. No, they were AMAZING. SHE was amazing. But... there's still something wrong. Almost morally wrong. Maybe its the age difference. But... She's not really that young. Only about 5 years. She's pretty, no, She's beautiful. She's got a great personality, similar hobbies.

She was his type. Definitely. So, what was the problem? A waitress came over to find out what he wanted. A Guinness. A drink fit for a guy. To be drinking it alone is sad, sure. But its fitting. She's on the other side of the world, and nothing else will keep him company quite like a Guinness.

He thought about when She kissed him goodbye at the airport. He was a good actor. No one, not even Her, had noticed his cringe. For a moment Her hair had fallen in front of Her face, as She knelt to pick up his carry-on for him. She was always sweet like that, doing things for him. But he had used that moment to take a furtive glance around. Had anybody seen their kiss? Why did it matter?

He thought back to the first time they'd kissed. It was after his neice's christening. He took Her back to Her apartment; She invited him in. And... the light hit Her hair just right, the soft smile on Her face showed how happy She was. And it seemed like instinct just to take Her in his arms.

He could almost imagine She was there, sitting in front of him, with an orange summer dress and a mojito. That was Her favorite drink. It somehow fit Her personality. Or else it just complemented the color of Her dress. The entire image reminded him of summer. That was Her season, Her season to shine. She lifted Her glass to his, and he looked up into...

...eyes that were not Hers. His mind was abruptly drawn out of his daydream by the realization that there was a tipsy brunette sitting across from him. Her accent sounded French. She was really easy to talk to.

No, there's no reason he was sitting alone in a corner with a Guinness. No reason he's alone in a foreign hotel with no one beside him. No reason to tell the French girl that someone close to him didn't want to come along.

No reason, because he himself didn't know how he felt about Her. He didn't know why something inside him seemed to hold him down just when She was about to make him fall head over heels for Her all over again. He missed that falling feeling.

So he didn't decline when French Girl invited him to go for a stroll... to find a beer that didn't have hotel mark-ups. It was a quiet little pub. He enjoyed talking to her. He could even find himself a little bit off balance around her. Maybe that was the beer. He didn't even know until her drink arrived that it was another mojito. She said something in French that sounded cute, took the mint sprig out and crushed one leaf on the back of her wrist. She then crushed another mint leaf into her drink. It was something he'd seen Her do a hundred times before. The faint smell of mint reached his nose and he smiled at the familiarity. He liked French Girl.

On the walk back to the hotel, the rainclouds finally decided to do something, so the two of them ducked into a doorway to wait for the downpour to end. It was a quick shower, but it was long enough for him to realize how close they were standing. And how cold the rain had made things. French Girl was so similar to Her. He turned to look at her again, but she was standing closer than he expected and suddenly their lips met. He was surprised. But then he thought about Her back home. And he kissed French Girl deeper. He realized they were almost the same girl. The difference was French Girl was a stranger. And She was his best friend. And you shouldn't kiss your best friend. In that one quick kiss, so many realizations tumbled into his head that he didn't know what to do.

He pulled away. She'd had more to drink. She wanted to keep going. But he looked into her eyes and saw Hers weeping. He could never tell Her what he'd just done. He could never make Her hurt that badly. And what's more, they weren't right for each other. He'd have to let Her go anyway, even if She didn't know about French Girl.

Back at the hotel, they went their separate ways. The rain had soaked them, so they each went to change. But it was only a pretext. He didn't want to see her. He went back into the hotel bar and sat in a different corner with his whiskey, wondering how he could break it to Her. And why couldn't he have seen it before. No doubt She would wonder how he could have changed. Or maybe She'd seen it coming. That explains Her refusal to come with him on this trip. But still... hurting Her now was better than hurting Her more later. The longer he waited the more it would hurt Her when the time came. And the more it would hurt him, seeing Her in pain.

She'd be at the airport to pick him up. Maybe on the ride back. No, take Her out to dinner. After the jet lag wears off. No sense being exhausted and emotional at the same time. Lets just be friends, have some dinner. How stupid does that sound? What if he just didn't come back? Didn't explain himself at all. What if he was just gone? She'd have questions, sure. But she wouldn't have the answers that would hurt Her so much.

The waitress was asking him to leave. The entire hotel, apparently, had gone to bed. Suddenly, sleep seemed like the best idea ever. He could see Her there, and in sleep he could see Her and still be in love with Her.

He threw the mint on the desk and pushed the turned-down covers all the way to the end of the bed. If he wasn't going back, he'd have to get comfortable here. He closed his eyes, and tried to take Her pain away.

THE FUTURE...

...ooooh... make breakfast spooky... spooky eating toast.... yum yum yum... human hand.

Hmm

So school ends and all of a sudden I have the time to think again. Funny how that happens every semester.

I thought about a lot of things. Needed to cry and got that out. Needed to chat and got that to happen too. Needed to... not necessarily make decisions, but at least lay the groundwork so I'll be able to. Did that until 8 am this morning.

I'd like to say I think education is amazing. 4 years ago, I could only speak and understand English. Now, Doug is iming me in Spanish, I'm answering in Italian, and then going to another AIM box and speaking to Steve in English. And... as a part of a potential future schooling opportunity, this morning I seriously considered the possibility that I might need to learn French.

And it all started in Jujitsu. Where I'm getting a couple words here and there in Japanese. And through the people involved, getting exposure to Mandarin. And German. And Hindi. And Malayalam.

But anyway, back to jujitsu. Since winter break, I've not felt like going. I sort of go out of habit now. I couldn't imagine breaking that habit until a few days ago. Then suddenly I realized I'd felt this way since the winter and why didn't I notice earlier? Barb mentioned last week about moving from the heart. She was speaking with a physiological viewpoint because the lines and angles between the heart and other body parts are crucial. But I took it mentally as well. I can't move from my heart because my heart's not in it. I think I've mentioned that before.

Yesterday at jujitsu, it was good. Barb pushed me to conquer a fear I've had. And it was good. I got over it. I'm sure it looked messy when I did it, but I did it. Actually two fears. One of them looked REALLY messy. But whatever. I got a lot out of it. But I didn't care. I didn't have a sense of elation that I'd conquered my fear. I didn't care because I was not interested in being there. I kept wondering what time it was. When would it end.

My brother said something to my mom about how when he comes to Rutgers, he's not sure if he wants to join jujitsu, because its my life now. And he doesn't want to be that closely connected to me. But if he only knew what's going on in my head... maybe jujitsu IS my life now. Maybe that's making me resent it.

At any rate... maybe I need a break from jujitsu. I think part of it is, over time, my eyes have been opened to things in the dojo. Maybe I just need a break so I can accept the fact that I'm not wearing rosey glasses anymore.

So that's what started a whole slew of things. Because one thing leads to another. And in the end, I ended up allowing myself to dream about the future. I'm not done with school yet. Just done with school at Rutgers.

Whoo hoo! I'm graduating in 8 days!!!

I am going to throw up...

... and when I do, I'm sueing Stouffer's for making crap tv dinners.

In the down time while I'm waiting to throw up, why don't you do this problem?

My brother's sending a challenge out to all my friends... a checkerboard that is 8x8 squares... each square has an x in it, so each angle is dissected equally... how many triangles are there?

Fiction

I want to write fiction... but I don't know how this will turn out... because I only have an idea, not a real story yet. If its crap I might delete it so if you read it, consider yourself lucky.

Yeah its crap. I need some inspiration.

Sometimes I write fiction cause its fun. Other times I write fiction to express the non-fiction. I'd like to do that now, but I don't know how I can. The non-fiction isn't something worth reading.

songs

So... I love quoting songs in my away messages. They don't always correlate to how I feel. But in the past few hours, there have been so many songs I'd like to quote, I don't know where to start, so I'm putting a bunch in here instead.

Pilgrim how you journey/ On the road you chose/ To find out why the winds die/ And where the stories go/ All days come from one day/ That much you must know/ You cannot change what's over/ But only where you go/ One way leads to diamonds/ One way leads to gold/ Another leads you only/ To everything you're told/ In your heart you wonder/ which of these is true/ The road that leads to nowhere/ the road that leads to you/ Will you find the answer/ in all you say and do?/ Will you find the answer/ In you?/ Each heart is a pilgrim/ Each one wants to know/ .../ .../ Pilgrim, in your journey/ You may travel far/ For pilgrim it's a long way/ To find out who you are ~Enya

Who can say where the road goes,/ Where the day flows, only time?/ And who can say if your love grows,/ As your heart chose, only time?// Who can say why your heart sighs,/ As your love flies, only time?/ And who can say why your heart cries/ when your love lies, only time?// Who can say when the roads meet,/ That love might be in your heart?/ .../.../ ...// .../ .../ .../ .../ .../ ... ~Enya

I don't know how to say this,/ I don't know where to stand,/ I don't know where to put my feet,/ Or where to put my hands./ I've got them in my pockets,/ My fingers are freezing cold,/ They're wrapped around a ticket stub/ That's four weeks old,/ And I don't know how to say this.// I think we've figured out/ This world is bigger than you and I./ We've exhausted our wealth of knowledge/ And have no more answers for mankind.// We've had every conversation in the world/ About what is right and what has all gone bad,/ But have I mentioned to you that this is all I am,/ This is all that I have.// I'm not trying to judge you./ No that's not my job. / I am just a seeker too,/ In search of God.// Somewhere somehow this subject became taboo. / I have no other way to communicate to you. / This is all that I am./ This is all that I have.// And we've had every conversation in the world/ About what is right and what has all gone bad,/ ... / ...// .../ .../ .../ ...// .../ .../ .../ ...// .../ .../ .../ .../ ...// .../ .../ Just know that I care for you/ And I’m speaking from my heart ~Sarah Groves

I've done every devotional/ Been every place emotional/ Trying to hear a new word from God/ And I think it's very odd,/ that while I attempt to help myself/ My Bible sits upon my shelf/ With every promise/ I could ever need// Chorus: ... // Verse 2 // Bridge ~SG

I don’t want to leave here/ I don’t want to stay/ It feels like pinching to me/ Either way/ And the places I long for the most/ Are the places where I’ve been/ They are calling out to me/ Like a long lost friend// It’s not about losing faith/ It’s not about trust/ It’s all about comfortable/ When you move so much/ And the place I was wasn’t perfect/ But I had found a way to live/ And it wasn’t milk or honey/ But then neither is this// Chorus: I've been painting pictures of Egypt,/ leaving out what it lacks/ The future feels so hard,/ And I wanna go back!/ But the places that used to fit me,/ Cannot hold the things I've learned/ Those roads were closed off to me/ While my back was turned!// The past is so tangible/ I know it by heart/ Familiar things are never easy/ To discard/ I was dying for some freedom/ But now I hesitate to go/ I am caught between the Promise/ And the things I know// chorus// If it comes too quick/ I may not appreciate it/ Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?/ And if it comes too quick/ I may not recognize it/ Is that the reason behind all this time and sand? ~SG

Hello Lord, it's me your child/ I have a few things on my mind/ Right now I'm faced with big decisions/ And I'm wondering if you have a minute, cuz// Chorus: Right now I don't hear so well/ And I was wondering if you could speak up/ I know that you tore the veil/ So I could sit with you in person/ And hear what you're saying but/ Right now, I just can't hear you.// I don't doubt your sovereignty/ I doubt my own ability to/ Hear what you're saying/ And to do the right thing/ And I desperately want to do the right thing// Chorus// And somewhere in the back of my mind/ I think you are telling me to wait/ And though patience has never been mine/ Lord, I will wait to hear from you/ Oh Lord, I'm waiting on you// Chorus// Right now, I think you're whispering ~SG

ten years old...

So... this is going to be a rant... and I'm not even sure if I can share all of it. I was feeling a little annoyed today. Two people I know were treating each other like they were each ten years old. And I know they are FAR older than that. It was frustrating, knowing that in other areas, they are extremely mature and developed. I guess it kinda frustrates me because sometimes my mom treats me like I'm years younger than I am, and it bothers me, not so much because she's implying that I'm not mature, but more because I can't be trusted. I guess if these two people could trust each other to be mature, maybe they would be mature.

And then after jujitsu, we were standing around saying goodnight and a car drove up and someone pegged me with a water balloon. It bounced off my shoulder and broke on Amish. I didn't respond outwardly like Doug did. But I think I could have killed the guy with a glance if he'd been standing in front of me right then. Something in the atmosphere made me really... not angry... it was beyond angry. It was like... "Dude you freaking need to grow up stupid college drunk frat jerk." But that was inside. Outside, it bounced off me. The water balloon bounced, and so did the atmosphere... It was weird. Thinking about it made it a bit clearer just now. I took it as an attack against me... so I got... not defensive, not indignant... but... I guess protective of justice... if that makes any sense. When Doug took off chasing the car to throw his water bottle at them, the first thing that came to mind was that he was chasing them to get the license plate number. If I had it, I would have complained to the police. Not cause I was really hurt. But cause jerks should be punished for being. Especially if they live on frat row. Hmm I think I'm a bit more porcupiney tonight. Something in the air I guess.

And then during jujitsu Barb kept telling us to make a line to our hearts. Draw all of your force from your heart. And she was talking physical heart but I think she wanted us to draw the connection to our emotions and mental state as well. That all of our actions should come from the heart. It was a little frustrating, because I was getting so many good pointers from Barb that I don't normally get from her because there's one of her and so many of us. But at the same time, my heart wasn't in it, so I wasn't getting as much out of it as I think I should have gotten. I couldn't do jujitsu tonight because my heart wasn't there. If its not there, there's nothing to draw from in terms of doing the techniques the way she wants it.

And I'm not entirely sure why my heart isn't in it. I think that it hasn't been in a lot of things lately. Maybe its got a reason. Maybe not. Maybe its just one of those phases I go through. I went through a phase like that back in January too.

smile

So... Ragtime is over. It was a good show. I had a lot of fun. Ag Field Day and the NJ Folk Festival were fun too. I feel like lately I've been doing Rutgers things I haven't done in the past four years solely for the sake of saying I did them. I feel like, OOH I'm graduating, I have to do this first! Although I haven't been to Rutgersfest yet. That's ok. I'm not into the whole, "drinking, forty bazillion people and a rap band" scene. Anyway. Ag Field Day in combination with working backstage and then going to Applebee's wore me out, both physically and emotionally. As usual, my mind didn't know what to do with the emotional stuff, so even though not all of it was bad, my mind sent it all over to my body which decided to make it physical pain. It manifested itself in a way that has only happened maybe 4-5 times before. During times of extreme fatigue, I get something in my joints that feels kinda like arthritis. The first time I felt it was after a 6 hour hike literally up and down mountains in Italy under the blistering sun. I couldn't sleep that night because of the pain in my ankles, knees, wrists, elbows, and shoulders. Luckily, yesterday wasn't that bad- it was only my ankles swollen and throbbing and one knee. But I was all better in the morning, and slept through church just to catch up on the sleep I haven't been getting all semester.

Then I went to U-Yee's with Cara, Doug, James, Anissa, and Steve for some really good sushi (1/2 off). That was fun. The theme of the conversation topics seemed to be "torture and violent death" which I guess is natural coming from martial artists. James isn't a martial artist, but he is an engineer, so he has cool chemical ways of contributing to the conversation. Made me think my brother's going to fit right in when he comes to Rutgers and I drag him into the whole jujitsu scene.

After that I got back to my apartment, showered, and fiddled with my hair forever. Steve and I went to the BA Theater Major's Ball. It was a lot of fun. I normally don't like that kind of thing and I wasn't planning on going until Andrea called me on Easter Sunday to see if I was going. She convinced me, and it was partly because her phone call meant I had something to do besides sit and be ignored by my cousins and aunts and uncles.

And it was really worth it. Steve and Anissa plotted on a whole corsage-bouttoniere thing, and it was just a really good time. I remember a long time ago I wrote a poem that said something along the lines of "I just want a fairy tale night with a pretty dress and a handsome guy." And while I've had that type of night before, somehow... tonight was... I guess the matured version of that. Like I've been waiting and getting fulfilling awesome nights before this, but tonight was... what the poem was about. There was something about the energy of the room, the atmosphere... that sort of fulfilled what I had in the poem. I danced a little... got my swing dance in, and the Cotton-eyed Joe song. I learned a new version of the dance to it- being from the sticks, we kinda have a more hick version lol.

And during dinner, I had this thought hit me: I'm graduating. Will I ever see these people again? And so I had the sudden urge to take a picture of every person I know haha. So I got a bunch of pictures, and they did a presentation honoring seniors (I got a fake diploma, a "degree certificate"). So in a way, it is a little sad too.

But, I haven't graduated yet, which means I still have a paper due in the morning, so I'm gonna get to it. Goodnight.

poem 2

I guess sometimes something happens internally in which the poet can no longer be concealed. He must raise his head, his fist, and strike the canvas of the words he uses. There is no holding him beneath the surface. Once he's out, the poems pour out unstoppably.

I'm done.
No longer are you required
To compete with a ghost.
Precisely what that ghost is
I'm not sure.
Because it was never there to begin with.
Only in my mind.
Which makes its definition circular.
You can't define an item
Using itself.
Except in the case of the ghost.
The ghost was in my head,
Which is what made it a ghost.
And its gone now.
Dissolved by the tiniest amount of light
Coming from the shining glint of a blade.

poem

From this moment onward:
I have decided it is better to love.
I have decided it is ok to hurt.
I will embrace pain.
Hope for healing.
Not expect it.
I have decided to become
A pessimist.
I have decided to fall in love,
Catch a shooting star,
Embrace the burn,
And love again.
I will be disappointed
If it does not hurt.

hmm

We should all freaking stop lying to each other. I can think of way too many people who would not be in a certain mess right now if they'd admit the truth. Ok that's my rant.

de ja vu

Jamie sleepily lifted her head off the car window and stretched the kinks out of her neck. Something odd was happening. She looked out the window and saw the signs passing on the highway. She recognized the dreary warehouses and factories, the overcast sky as dusk approaches. Something tugged at her still sleepy brain. That music on the radio. She knew that song somehow went with the landscape. Slowly it dawned on her. She turned her head to look at the driver.

Tom. "What is going on? What am I doing here?"

He looked at her and grinned, singing along to the song. Off key and off beat. Just like always.

"Tom!" Pause. "I don't know what to say. This can't be happening."

He wouldn't say a word to her, only look and smile. "Tom, answer me!" His eyebrows lifted, as if to ask her what she wanted. "I can't be here! This isn't happening. It can't be happening."

His silence gave her the question, "Why not?"

"Because... It just can't." Pause. "It happened already!" Jamie decided this was all a dream. Ok. That's it. I'll just go to sleep again. It will go away. And things will be normal again. She closed her eyes. She wasn't sure if time was passing or not. She thought maybe her body was moving.

She opened her eyes. She was lying on a park bench. Her watch read 4 am. There was a cup of lemonade next to her. She rubbed the sleep sand out of her eyes. Strange. There was more than usual. She wondered if that meant she'd been crying. Uh-oh. That feeling was back. She looked to the end of the bench. Tom sat there watching her.

"What is going on?? Why won't you leave? You don't EXIST anymore." He just smiled. Jamie forced herself back into the sleep she assumed she was already in. How do you wake up from a dream you have while you are still awake?

So, I've been keeping busy, actually doing work and going to Ragtime rehearsals/performances. Its a good show. I'm proud of my friends because you can really tell they put a lot of work into it.

This weekend I was whisked away by two really good friends to someplace I didn't know about. Well... ok. Steve planned it. But I thought that Anissa planned it, cause they lied to me. And then Anissa didn't want to go, so we kidnapped her, even though I had no idea where we were going. It turned out to be a spaceship to the moon. The moon was cool. I brought home a moon rock.

It was fun hanging out with them and being on the edge of my seat for the 4 hour drive there. We had to stop at Rennselaer to pick up Steve's astronaut friend, so it was cool to see the college my brother was accepted to. Speaking of which, he just sent his acceptance letter to Rutgers, so YAY... he'll be a RSE (really smart engineer) over on Busch. Maybe he'll join jujitsu too. That would be cool. Anyway, toss this out there too: Kevin almost went to RPI but picked Rutgers instead, and I heard about Rutgers through him (he sold me on it). If RPI had had ROTC, he'd have gone there, and I would not have heard his Rutgers speech; I and therefore my brother would not have come to Rutgers, I'd have a COMPLETELY different set of friends. So going to RPI for the weekend made me think "Wow, this is the college whose lack of a program led to an incredible gain because of the friends I have."

And contrary to popular belief... I didn't think about .asdf. during the AW con. Only briefly when I heard the carrot juice. With fond memories, not with sorrow.

And all in all, I had a really good time. After the moon, we went to Japan to see Mt Fuji. I took pictures of the fog on the volcano and us in front of a mountain-top shrine. The good times continued, until of course the ride home, when my body decided to practice being in labor. I had to go straight to working backstage at Ragtime, so I gave Anissa and Steve my keys to drop my stuff off in my apartment. When I got back I discovered that my away message had been changed to something about chomping my ovaries. So if anyone read that and was offended, yell at her not me haha.

And now I had a good chat with Anissa so that was good. And I realized the soap opera is bigger than I thought. Anissa gets it more though, cause she's the president and people confide in her. Wow I had no idea things could get so... woven. Its like a giant rug.

And now I have some time to do some homework so that's cool. Got my cap, gown, hood, tassel... Can't seem to figure out this silly hood, but I guess I have two weeks to do that. If I can't figure it out, I'll tie it around my ankle. $50 to graduate in style lol. And more if I have to buy the honors cord... which I won't know until my grades all get finalized.

Anyway... gonna go make sure I actually do graduate by going and finishing my homework. Bye.

Easter and onward

Easter was good. I went to see my relatives again. My cousin's wife is suffering from depression so they drove with their 3 kids back to Maryland before getting to see anyone. His brother went back too, but has a girldfriend now... so mom's glad he's not gay. She actually said that to me. Which I don't get because there's no hint he might be whatsoever. I see nothing wrong with going through a horrible horrible break up and then not dating for years after that. It doesn't make you gay. My cousin Peter was going to massage school in Canada last time I updated about my family. It turns out they changed the laws about getting into the country for schooling, and he didn't have the proper government blood test, and the government wouldn't get him the blood test. So they gave him 24 hours to get his stuff and leave. So now he's an apprentice at a tattoo parlor for this REALLY good tattoo artist... like where a simple tattoo can range into the thousands because there's no such thing as a simple tattoo for this guy. And my aunt and uncle are going to raise koi in a pond they just made in their backyard. So when my other aunt heard that, she took us all over to her neighbor's house. He just redid the backyard. We walk up and there's an intricate stone archway opening into the garden patio. Along the edge of the patio there's basically a giant, rock-lined swimming pool full of koi a foot and a half long. On the far side there are 1 ton slabs of rock, with a huge cascading waterfall going into the pond. To the left is a blooming cherry tree, dropping petals into the water, and to the right and all along the top of the waterfall are fancy evergreen trees, statues of blue herons, and deer and stuff. The place was gorgeous.

Anyway... that was about it. I started working on Ragtime at LTC on Monday. So I have no life again. And today they were giving out free bras at the student center. Wheee!!!! Ok now I really have to do some homework.

Just out of curiosity...

I looked up some of the meanings of certain flowers.

Hydrangea: Thank you for understanding; frigidity; heartlessness
Orchid: Love; beauty; refinement; beautiful lady; Chinese symbol for many children; Mature charm
Pink Roses: Perfect happiness; please believe me
Gillyflower/Stock: Lasting beauty

Carnations: Bonds of affection; health and energy; fascination; woman love
pink- I'll never forget you
red- My heart aches for you; admiration
yellow- Rejection; disdain
magenta and mauve- ???
Daisies: Innocence
Baby's Breath: Everlasting Love
Sinuata/Statice: remembrance
Liatris: Enthusiasm

bookguydc: Here's a verse given to me during my struggles: Proverbs 13:12 - Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

It made me think. And wonder. And talk to God. I don't know where I am anymore. But I can definitely relate to the hope deferred. I just wonder when the longing fulfilled will come. But first I wonder what I truly long for. I don't think I know yet.

On a happier note, I have been able to have some good conversations with people. Steve and I sat and talked to Barb for a long time about religion. It was cool. And there were some other people I've been able to talk to lately... even if its been mostly on aim. Gotta start somewhere.

The play is over! Yay! People want me to do another one, I keep getting compliments right and left, and I'm proud of what was done this week. So that's a good thing. And Steve and Anissa got me flowers and chocolates. And my parents got me flowers.

. looked me in the eyes yesterday for the first time in a long time. But was it really me . was seeing? Or was it .?

Yeah its nice being cryptic.

Mom was bristly yesterday. I wonder why. Steve brought something up that made me think. And I don't know how to deal with my mom.

Now I'm just going to be depressing and say life is not all its cracked up to be. But its good anyway.

Ok yeah I need sleep. bye all!

sigh

The play is almost over. I've been stressed, going at a fast pace for the past few weeks. Wow say that five times fast.

But I was thinking about it. And this crazy life, I hate it. Yet that's what keeps my passion alive. I have a love-hate relationship with theater. I can't live without it. But one day, the hectic pace is going to give me a stroke.

I'm still getting... "I think we need pyrotechnics here. Can I drop a body from the ceiling?"

And the lines are gradually getting there, which is good.

But yeah. I have to frisk my brother for matches before the show. Otherwise his hands will be on fire when he comes onto the stage in his Satan costume.

California? Did I hear someone say they had a spare ticket to California? Oh ok. You don't need me right? Ok I'm running away now.

Now to figure out how to get the random kids not to walk across the stage:
My Brother Dan: Hey, kids you're getting in the way here, you wanna go out in the hallway to play gi joe?
Obnoxious kid who will remain anonymous: What do you mean by what?
Dan: What?
Kid: What do you mean by what?
Dan: Wait. I didn't say 'what' the first time. How about if you don't leave, I pick you up and throw you?

Gotta love my brother.

Jesus

Jesus

Why I can post this: my Jesus is not the kind of guy to sit in a church pew and look like a nice guy. No one likes the nice guys. They are boring. The Jesus I know is not boring. He's God, yes. All-powerful, yes. Exciting, absolutely. He's the type of guy that would make a picture of his face in butter. He came to earth and hung out with fisherman, tax collectors, all sorts of sinners. You think the pretty pictures of Jesus holding his hands in the peaceful benediction sign would appeal to those guys? They wore leather and didn't shave. Jesus had to fit in with them. He was a carpenter. I don't know about you, but all the carpenters I know are ripped. But that's a tangent. I can post this website because... Jesus is having a good laugh over it too. It made me smile and brightened my insane day.

a day in the life

I haven't slept. Cause I don't have the time. There's too much to do. So any typos... just blame that.

My teacher sent an email about the midterm... here's a little quote I found interesting.

EXTRA CREDIT: Someone will ask, "can I do any extra credit to bring up my course grade?" "Yes," I will say, "Study more for the final than you did for the midterm."

I applied for a job at a garden center today. Its a really nice place, and I'd hope they let me work there. I would love to have an outdoor job again. Two summers ago, that was probably the ultimate job experience. I had such a good time. Working hard and covering up the... well. Yeah I didn't have such a good life outside of working.

I was thinking about something I told someone once. Well, something I told several someones. "You've got a crush on her." "What? No I don't." "Yes you do. When I look at you, I can see that she's all you think about. I can see that when you walk in a room, she's the first person you look for to see if she's there. When you want to tell a story about something that happened to you today, you look to see if she's willing to listen. Then when you tell the story, you are only telling her, whether there are other people there or not." The people I mentioned this to had very different reactions, from surprise, to indignation, to denial.

But I was thinking the other day. Can anyone say the same about me? Can anyone tell me exactly what I told those people (gender differences allowed for of course)? I don't know. I'm not sure where my life is right now.

Chinese Candy Translations

The package of the pineapple candy states:

"The gorgeous taste of fully ripened pineapple, imposing as a southern island king crowned in glory, is yours to enjoy in every soft and juicy Kasugai Pineapple Gummy."

And the muscat candy:

"Its translucent color so alluring and taste and aroma so gentle and mellow offer admiring feelings of a graceful lady. Enjoy soft and juicy Kasugai Muscat Gummy."

So my question is this: When is Hershey going to advertise candy that makes you think nice thoughts about the opposite sex?

When asking this in my away message the other day, I got this response:

In a way, doesn't American candy already do that? If the tiny bite-sized Milky Ways are "Fun Size", would that not subliminally suggest that the full size or king-sized bars are complete ecstasy? Anyway, keep smiling!

Anyhow... just some food for thought. Literally.

spring

Friday was interesting. I had no time to think about the past, even for the day it was.

The magnolias are coming out in New Brunswick and that made me smile through the 1 hour of sleep on my face. And Saturday night, as I came home from working on the set at midnight, I smiled because the spring peepers were out.

If you've never heard spring peepers, you are a deprived child of the city and I pity you. Come spend the weekend with me in the country.

Spring is an interesting time. Lots of memories.

DIE

So this play is killing me. Well, no. The play is collaborating with my teachers. They think I'm Julius Caesar or Kennedy or Lincoln or something.

I average 5 hours of sleep a night. Food makes my stomach hurt. And if it manages to get past my stomach, then my intestines hurt.

But I've been thinking about how active I've been with jujitsu. And how not sleeping keeps my metabolism going longer, which means I burn more fat and calories. So yesterday was laundry day which means today I have no clothes to wear except old ones. So I put on an old pair of pants that are practically skin tight on me... and they fit again. That was the first indication to me that this is affecting my body. Cause the scale has been staying the same- I've been checking because I know I'm stressed and I'm not stupid. I'm going to monitor myself.

But yeah. Either that or jujitsu has made me more "toned." But I doubt it. Cause if that's the case the pants would have fit last semester too.

Ok now I have to run to a rehearsal and work on the set for the play. AHHHH

EDIT: AND I'M LOSING AN HOUR OF SLEEP DUE TO DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME. WHOEVER CAME UP WITH THAT IDEA... NEEDS TO BE SHOT. AND THEN FLOGGED. AND THEN THROWN OFF A BRIDGE. AND THEN RUN OVER BY A BUS. AND THEN ATTACKED BY RABID SQUIRRELS. AND THEN TAKEN UP TO THE HEAVENS BY THE ONE-EYED ONE-HORNED FLYING PURPLE PEOPLE-EATER. AND THEN DROPPED FROM THE SKY. AND THEN LYNCHED. AND THEN KILLED. AND THEN KILLED AGAIN.

Just so we're clear...

I'm defining myself (and everyone else). Because I have other more pressing, important things to do, so of course I am occupying myself with the trivial.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegetarian

Andrew was all fancy with his "pescatarian" claims. Well, I'm a lacto-ovo-pesco-pollo vegetarian. Ha. Take that.

Dhaval: Fruitarian who cheats by eating curly fries
Sarah: Vegan
Lisa: Macrobiotic
Dogs and Rabbits: Raw Food Diet

I find it interesting that the wikipedia article says nothing about labelling people who choose to refrain from eating vegatables. I think that's biased. Everyone deserves a label, including the people who wrote "Carrot juice is murder."

:-D

post #2 Adele's story

Adele stood on her tippytoes to peer over the edge of the table. Before her, shining white and glimmering, was The Cake. The French Blessing Cake that was only made once every 4 years. If she didn't get to taste its wonderful sweetness, she would have to wait all the way until she was 9!!! How could they possibly expect her to wait that long? But she was ushered off to bed, and when she woke the next morning, the party had gone and with it, the cake. How great was her disappointment! 4 years was a long time to expect a 5 year old to wait.

At first she cried. And cried and cried to see that the cake was gone. Then she tried to convince herself that the cake wasn't really gone, and that the grownups were just keeping it away from her for some reason. Finally, she accepted the fact that it was gone and wearily turned her attentions to waiting for the new cake to come in four years. Eventually, she nearly forgot that it had been there in the first place.

But then, one day, there it was. She could now see over the table, could even lean in very close to see the cake better. She was excited. She saw that this new cake was different from the former, that it had some new colors in the frosting, and extra filling inside. The filling was what intrigued her. It was a rare occasion to see a French Blessing Cake with filling. The Cake this year had filling because the new cook wanted to impress everyone with his skills. She looked again at the cake, with its fillings. Perhaps this time the grownups would let her taste that beautiful white fluffy cake. In sorrow, she was brought to her bed before the cake had been brought before the guests. In the morning, as she expected, the cake was gone, filling and all. She cried, just like last time, and expected that the process would be the same. Cry, deny, blame others, accept it, wait for a new one, forget the old one ever existed. But she discovered something. She discovered that this second time, the process was different.

She could not accept that the French Blessing Cake she had waited for was gone. She could not accept that the old one had never existed, or that she would wait patiently for the new one. She wondered where this change had come from... she wondered if perhaps it had been the fact that she was 9 instead of 5 this time, or perhaps that the cake had filling this time, or that she had had a better view of the cake, or maybe even just that it was the second time around. At any rate, she felt that her thoughts and memories were so occupied by the old cake, that the new one she knew would come when she was 13 would not be quite as interesting.

And in fact, it wasn't. It was beautiful, she would admit. But it was not for her. It had no filling to intrigue her, to spark her imagination. She was still interested in the one she'd seen when she was 9. She sat down in her bed that night, knowing the adults were eating the cake, and she realized she did not mind at all. She was still absorbed in the memory of that other beautiful cake.

"What does one do" she pondered, "when one cannot, no matter what the circumstances, let go of what one wants to bring back from the past?" When she becomes an adult, will she be offered a slice of a French Blessing Cake? Will she eat it? Or will she still be thinking of the cake she'd seen at 9 that had such exquisite filling?

Not sure where to start.

There's so much I could say... on so many different topics.

I'd rather not talk about going home, because it would inevitably lead to an update on the play, which I don't want to talk about. I think... I might be afraid to fail in this scenario. And that's bad. Adds tension to my life and mind and body.

I came from a (good) rehearsal, in decent spirits, and I went to jujitsu. As soon as I did, something told me, "I'm not ready to be checked out yet." But, they checked me out anyway, and determined that I'm not ready to test for Gokyu. Give it two more weeks, and a knowledge of the things I need to work on. Basically, my techniques are there. (In my mind I also need work on the names of techniques.) But there's something... mental that's missing. There's a lack of fire... an inability to take control of an attack. Which... I think is true of my life outside of jujitsu. Quite often, I am one of those corks bobbing in the ocean. The waves go somewhere, but the cork only goes up and down. It is not carried anywhere, and has no way of controlling where it goes anyway.

So... even though I didn't test yet, tonight somehow feels like a failure. I know its not, its an assessment, not the real test. But, I suppose the reason it feels like a failure is that the blackbelts have been telling me the same thing for the past year, "Fire, intent, take charge of the attack," and I have not listened. Occasionally, there would be moments of clarity, when I would. But ultimately, under stress, I could not take that control. I could not follow their advice. And that's what bothers me. That it is something I should have had hammered into me by now.

But, on the upside... I somehow by the grace of God managed to complete a bridgefall today. Not a stime disguised as a bridgefall, but a real, hop-and-go-over bridgefall. Unfortunately it was not the one I did while I was being checked out. That one sucked.

And now I'm kind of sore. In my body but also in spirit, because I have had a long workout of both of them. I went to Anissa's to hang out with her a little while, and talk turned to pet names when someone who will remain unnamed called her "dear." It got me thinking. How much should I value pet names?

Choosing not to indulge the interests of that little tangent... I'm going to write another little fiction piece. In a minute.

Jujitsu

So...

Thursday at jujitsu was technically my first day back after spring break. I went to jujitsu on Tuesday, but for obvious reasons I didn't do much. Thursday I went to kids class, had a good time with those kids, and then went downstairs for the colored belt class. I was happy, cause I didn't have my notebook, because Cara's checking it. Steve tested, so all the blackbelts were occupied which gave the rest of us a chance to review a lot of things we were having issues with. Mostly variations on stuff, which meant I got to use my imagination. And I ALMOST did a bridge fall, which was also very cool. And Steve was promoted to brown belt. Yaaay Steve. And then after class, I got to grapple with Scott, which was cool, because I learned so much about myself. With some of the other people I grapple with, I just do it for fun and practice. But Scott was determined to make me learn something. Which was good.

And now I'm home avoiding homework. So I'm even happier. Yaaay me.

Ok. That's all.

I'm falling apart

Hmm...

So, last week, my digestive tract went haywire... as in, when I eat food, my stomach says... "What? I don't want that. I want to do something cool like writing poetry. Why can't I be the cool part of the body?" And I was also extra sensitive in certain areas that hurt.

And this week, I figured out why. But what I didn't plan on was Tuesday. On Monday night I was a little crampy. But I felt fine on Tuesday. Tuesday morning, I ate breakfast and went to massage class. Then I rushed back to Douglass to model a costume for the Costume Rendering class. I ate about 3/4 of a blueberry muffin because I didn't have much time for anything else. I put the costume on and started the modelling session. About 10 minutes before I was done, I'm standing there thinking, Hmm its kinda warm in here. Then all of a sudden, Its really warm in here. My head feels tight. And what happened to the lights? I sat down in the middle of the session and suddenly, I can't really get a good breath of air. So the teacher said "Its ok, you're not the first person who's had that kind of reaction modelling. Go outside and get a drink of water." I go outside with the teacher's aide, and all of a sudden, the cramps started again. And I feel nauseous. The teacher took one look at me when I came back in and said, "Go change into your comfortable clothes, you're done for the day."

The elevator to the first floor was stuffy, and my knees buckled. By this time I'm shaking and the TA leads me into the costume shop, rips open a bag of oreos and tells me to get my sugar up. My mouth was so dry that I could only swallow two bites and I was worried I would throw it up. She came back from somewhere and led me to a teacher's office where there was a couch. I'm shaking from the pain of my uterus trying to turn itself inside out. (Sorry for whatever guys read this...) The TA unbuttoned the back of my dress (which was almost-but-not-quite a corset) and went to get my clothes from the changing room. While she was gone, I called Steve, who I knew was close by, at Anissa's studying, and asked him to come get me. He was there in two minutes. But I couldn't move because my cramps were so bad. Sad to say, they've been worse in the past. I know because on Tuesday, they didn't elicit tears, only exclamations like "OMG its coming in contractions I am SOOO never getting PREGNANT!" I think I scared Steve. But yeah, from what I hear, women say the weirdest things when they're in labor.

When I could stand up, Steve brought me back to Anissa's so I could nap and he could keep an eye on me (Anissa was in class, otherwise they both would have watched me like hawks). I guess that's all he could have done anyway though... if I ever get like that, there's nothing much anyone can do about it except watch or maybe do some accupressure points. And Cara's right... that's a little awkward.

I skipped class that day, so I hope we didn't do anything important. And that night I went to jujitsu but didn't work out. It was the beginner's class, so I just walked around helping people. I was ok until the last 10 minutes when I started to feel achy and dizzy. Very mild dizziness. The achy I think was just from fatigue. The dizziness went away when I went to the student center and ate some chicken. I was hoping for tofu, cause rumor has it tofu has more protein than chicken. That, and I was craving tofu... and soy is supposed to balance estrogen levels. But... the chicken was sufficient.

Wednesday, yesterday, I was mostly fine, with moments where I just stood up too quickly. That happens any time, regardless of what happened on Tuesday. But today I'm still having 2 or 3 second dizzy spells, and I'm not sure about what's going on anymore. Cause normally I'm not this affected by estrogen. I am, however, somewhat glad that estrogen affects me physically rather than mentally or emotionally. I have enough stuff playing with my mind, I'm glad that estrogen hasn't jumped on the bandwagon.

But... I'm gonna go eat something. Just to be safe.

they had iaido in the bible.

To quote my away message, "grumble. the female body is stoooopiiiidd"

I couldn't figure out why my body was falling apart. Then at the computer lab I started cramping and then the lightbulb went on.

But my teacher made me feel a little better. I'm going to write out the script from class today, since the teacher is such an actor. The lecture was on the book of judges, but basically he acted out the story of Ehud.

Robertson: (I'm paraphrasing here to get to the good parts.) So the people did what was right in their own eyes, and the Lord allowed King Elgon to come in and conquer them and they were oppressed for years until the people cried out to God. AHHHHHHH. (He has just let out a bloodcurdling yell.) Uh. I better make sure no one is sending for the EMT squad. (Sneaks to the door and pokes his head out.) No no we're ok. (Closes the door.) So uh. Yeah, the people cried out to Yahweh and Yaweh heard their cry. Let's all have a corporate cry to God. Uh. You think thats a bad idea? I wonder what people will do.

Student: I don't think its a problem.

R: really? Hmm yeah cause if anyone comes running you all can explain the story of judges and then it will be ingrained in your heads and then you'll do better on the final. hmm no lets do a silent cry to Yahweh. Ready, One Two Three.

All: (whisper) AHHH

I think about silent kiais and my mind wanders to jujitsu. When I return to the lecture, Robertson is just saying:

R: Ehud was a left handed judge! If you're a southpaw in this class, raise your left hand!

Four people raise their hands.

R: Great! That's more than usual. But that's still... let's see, 48 in the class, that's less than 10%

I start writing numbers on my notes. I'm not a math major in any way but something tells me 12%.

R: So, King Eglon was a FAAAT man, in fact eglon sounds like the Hebrew word for young calf. But he wasn't a calf or cow, he was a BULL. He was a BIIIIG bull.

He sprawls on the desk, semireclined, with his arms out resting on invisible fat. Jumps up to play Ehud.

R: And Ehud made a sword that was a cubit long. How many know what a cubit is? (No answer.) Its the length from the edge of your elbow to your fingertips. So, each ancient isrealite had a different cubit cause arms are different lengths. See? (Compares with someone in the class.) My cubit's longer than yours.

He goes around the class room to some of the guys and they all compare their cubits. Typical males. Sigh.

R: So Ehud went before the King saying "I have a SECRET gift for you" and the king-

He turns around and sprawls on the desk again.

R: says SILENCE and sends all the guards and servants out of the room. He's kinda greedy. And then Ehud-

Jumps of the desk and turns to play Ehud.

R: jumps out and STABS Eglon with his cubit sword. WHOOSH! (Makes stabbing motion so I think of Andrew and Cara and iaido blackbelts.) And then Eglon's fat covers the sword GLUB GLUB GLUB and Ehud lets go. And then! Guess what?! Eglon's BOWELS EXPLODED! PFFFTTTBBLLLLL! (Makes Cyrus' spewing motion from iaido.)

So yeah... that kinda brightened my day a little.

The other thing that brightened it was that I found myself on Livingston and passed a Magnolia tree whose blooms were just beginning to crack open. YAAY spring, especially magnolia trees hehehe.

My mom and dad had their first kiss under a magnolia tree in Hackensack or Morristown I forget which. I think Morristown. Near the Iron Horse restaurant or pub or whatever it is. Anyway that reminds me of one other thing.

I was thinking about how I've dated people... and done cute romantic things. But somehow, very few of those things resembled a date in the sense that people talk about dates. Like getting dressed up, date coming to pick you up and take you someplace special involving dinner and some form of entertainment. A pre-planned date, not spontaneous. If I ever do that kind of date again-

mmm fond memories of the first of that kind :-)

-then I think it would be a trip to see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Just two people. It would be fun to see a Broadway show with friends. But Phantom... I think I would pick that as a perfect date. Or even almost perfect.

The reason this is on my mind is Anissa was asking. *insert joke here* So that's a clearer definition of my answer.

Ok I've cleared my mind. I'm gonna go do some real homework instead of recounting my class adventure.

More fiction

Charlotte looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. Was he serious? She couldn't tell. It had been such a long time. She kept walking, he continued as well. She stopped at her car, jiggled the keys, and handed them to him.

'What's this?"

"You want to drive." It was a statement, not a question. She pushed them into his hand.

He pushed them back. "Its your car, you have a license, you can drive. I trust you."

Her eyes slanted a bit more. "You always used to say you could never handle being a passenger with a driver who hadn't had their license more than a year."

He looked at her a moment, trying to figure out this person she had become. "We were 17 then. All our friends were insane. Of course I would say that. You're older. You're mature. You've got a head on your shoulders like they never had. You drive. I'm ok with that."

She got in the car, he followed. "I'm still human. I'm still inexperienced. I'm going to make a mistake today that will scare you. But I have to. That's how I learn."

He didn't need to say anything in response, but wanted to acknowledge her. Very simply, "Okay."

AHHHHHHHHHH

I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW!!
I KNOW IT ALREADY.
STOP TELLING ME THAT.
YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUB SALT IN THE BLEEDING MESS.
God, just leave me alone. No don't, I need you here. But... I don't know what I want anymore.

Things used to be so simple. Just... 5 years ago. 5 years ago, I was directing a dance for Easter. Now I'm directing a whole play. 5 years ago I had not yet entered the world of Male. Now I'm lost in a whole new universe, wondering what loyalty my heart holds. 5 years ago, I was preparing to be rebaptized. To declare to the world that I'd strayed after my first baptism and that I wanted to return to a life where nothing matters but You. And now... I can't always seem to find You. I know You're there. But... I'm not in the right place.

I'm tired of the what if game. Where are You?

poem

Two year old chocolate.
The taste of old sugar,
And fatty oils gone bad.

Something sweet that still tastes sweet
And yet still has the taste of something
That will not last forever.

A memory of a past life.
Something sweet I once used to live
Dug up out of the sock drawer

Found buried with a bunch of jelly bellies
That are now cold rocks of corn syrup
And mints that won't ever freshen a mouth.

Who gave me that chocolate?
And why did everything go stale?
And when sugar goes bad, where does that sweet taste go?

Does it still deserve an attempt at enjoying it?
Do I eat it for old times' sake?
Or throw it out and forget the memory ever existed?

Haven't written in a while.

Its spring break. So I've been busy with my homework ICCCKKKKK....

But I just had a dream where I got angry. I've never been that angry before, in a dream or in real life. And the odd thing is, I was angry at my mom, which is even stranger. And it made me realize I still have feelings for... yeah. This dream was kind of emotionally draining. So I'm a little dead this afternoon. At the same time, it was so satisfying to be able to feel those emotions and have complete control over them.

Anyway, if you want to know more, ask me in person, cause I don't really feel like posting the whole thing up here.

But I'm so drained.

cliff jumping

So, I sent the email that has been simmering and evolving in the back of my mind for quite some time now. It was such a release to send it. I'm sorta scared of the outcome.

I think I need to go let out months' worth of emotions in a good cry. Good night.

jujitsu

Last night at jujitsu, we spent the whole two hours on groundwork and grappling (yay!). Scott was our teacher, and I learned soo much.

One thing that Scott said yesterday can be applied to a lot of things. When you're grappling, its all a matter of who's on top. You may physically be on the bottom of a move like shiho gatame (smothering someone using your stomach) but because of what you do, you can, in a sense, redefine where the top and bottom lay. So your back may be horizontal, on the floor, and your attacker may be on top of you. But a slight shift in your arms or torso, or just relaxing, will change where top is. So top is no longer on the y-axis.

And I guess... you can apply that to a lot of things. I think I'm going to apply it to my midterm paper in my monsters class. But you can put it anywhere. When you feel like life is "clobbering you" as Andrew so vividly phrased it, you have to try and find the one thing, the one position that will change where top is. Cause it stinks a lot when life comes out on top. And when it stinks, sure you can cry about it if you want. But after a decent cry, shift positions. You don't have to move your opponent off of you. You just have to move where top is. And that's so much easier than moving the full 180 pounds of muscle that might be pinning you to the ground.

Wow... ok so I'm talking to myself. I didn't expect that to come out. That was fascinating. Ok back to my homework.

break time

I'm taking a break from writing my script, even though I really shouldn't. The reason being... for one thing I need a break. But for another thing... I had a sort of epiphany.

While trying to condense 3 years of Jesus' ministry into a play, I came across this verse: "you are the salt of the earth. but if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? it is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men."

I've always just taken that verse to mean that we should have an influence on people, otherwise why are we here? And also that... our saltiness should be something that adds flavor to life for other people... that we are what makes life interesting and worth living. But I started thinking- is it actually possible for salt to lose its saltiness? I mean, salt has a specific chemical makeup... if anything changes won't it not be salt? it can't just be salt and not salty.

Luckily, I know a bunch of Really Smart People, who live on the Engineering campus. And one of my RSP friends minored in chemistry. And here's a bit of what he said:

Puhasol: salt refers to any of many ionic compounds
Puhasol: some of which may not actually taste salty
Puhasol: i haven't tasted them
Puhasol: so i couldn't tell you
Me: oh... but...
Me: back then... would those ionic compounds have been available to the jews? would it be possible for salty salt to break down into non-salty salt, just by sitting in a jar?
Puhasol: oh no
Puhasol: NaCl will be NaCl in a jar for eternity
Puhasol: unless you put some other thing in there
Me: so... lets say Jesus has NaCl in a jar that everyone uses for cooking. its nice and salty. can your "some other thing" be floating around an ancient Jewish kitchen and accidentally fall into the jar of NaCl, thereby rendering it unsalty?
Puhasol: i forgot my ionic affinities
Puhasol: i used to have them memorized in order
Me: ok... well i guess its not really that important... i guess its more important to understand the concept of what jesus was talking about... but not knowing anything about chemistry i figured i'd ask
Puhasol: basically something that likes Cl better or Na better has to come around and pull them apart

And that got me to thinking... I know I used to fit the description of "salt of the earth," at least in terms of... setting an example for people, and being there for others, particularly other kids in my youth group. But what about now? Have I lost my saltiness? What would it take to make me unsalty? Something would have to come along and identify with one part of me, but not with another. So lets just say for kicks and giggles that the sodium is God in my life. And then the chlorine in me would have to say I like that something better than I like the sodium, and the two would be pulled apart, and then bang... I'm not salty anymore.

Hmm... I think thats more educational than my brain can handle right now. I'm only a theater major after all. But seriously... what would it take to change my spiritual chemical makeup? Am I salty? I have no idea. And if I'm not, I have no idea when I changed.

jujitsu, massage, and scary things

This is mostly a jujitsu post. I went to the kids' class today. The kids tested for the next rank tonight, so I got to lead some of the students in a sort of larger role. Which was cool... and stressful. I hate getting things done within a certain amount of time. But it was a lot of fun. And Leah and Matt were promoted to orange and yellow belts, respectively. That was cool.

Then we went downstairs for the intermediate jujitsu class. Barb began the class with the announcement that today was the funeral for Butterfly Bob, the sensei from the dojo in Manhattan. Just like when Darlene died, Barb said something really profound. It was kind of an echo of that. With Darlene, Barb compared death to the ultimate sutemi, the ultimate giving in and allowing yourself to be promoted to the next level. With Bob, she mentioned something about judo. In a judo competition, if you throw all of your being into a throw and your opponent could not have hit the mat harder, the judge raises one arm and shouts, "ippon." I don't know much about judo. But that's a good thing for the competitor who does it. And so, Bob's wife at the funeral service had every martial artist do that, as a way of recognizing that he lived and died giving everything he had. So Barb had us do the same and have a moment of silence for him. It was... really interesting. Barb... sometimes exudes the presence of God. And today... I had this mental image of God as a mist... kind of trickling around the room, touching each person.

Afterwards, Barb asked Steve to finish the back massage he started... and then she came and cracked my back. I feel SOOO much better now. But I wasn't perfect yet, so Cara gave me another massage with tiger balm, and that was when I had the second interesting thing of the night happen. I had a sort of epiphany... but not really. I kept letting my mind wander so I wouldn't think about the pain of the knots in my back. And it kept wandering to the wrong things, things that would make me tense up. With Steve, he would catch me doing it, and give me a little shake, and say, "Relax." And I would. With Cara, the first time I tensed up, she sort of did the same thing, but her attitude about it was completely different. She was extremely gentle, and yet, assertive. Barb said once that jujitsu has no genders on the mat. Gentleness, which is traditionally a feminine trait, is required of every jujitsuka, and that assertion or... go-for-it-ness... is a traditionally masculine trait that is also required. There are other traits too, but those are the ones she mentioned. And today when Cara told me to relax, it was one of the first times I noticed both qualities at the same time in someone. Even the other black belts... often its one following the other... but I've never noticed the two occur simultaneously. Perhaps I wasn't looking for it, until today. When Cara said relax, it was in a way that said, "there's no possible way you are going to resist relaxation." But it wasn't a forceful statement... I can't explain it really, except possibly by bringing up another something that Barb taught once.

She said that when we do a technique, it needs to be with a soft mind. If you do it with a hard mind, your opponent will sense it and resist. If you use a soft mind, they won't know what's coming at them, and won't resist, so its like you're forcing them without using force. So... all that to explain what I felt was bundled up into just one word from Cara: "relax."

And really... I relaxed so much that she was able to take the knot, move it around on my back to where she needed it to go, and eventually make it go away completely.

And after that... I risked undoing it by watching "The Exorcism of Emily Rose" with some friends. I didn't undo the massage though, because I didn't watch most of the movie. Most of it was spent with my face buried in Steve's armpit. I'm not good with scary movies. Anyway... in a weird way, it was educational... from a spiritual point of view. I don't want to change my perspective on the night, because I learned a lot in other areas too, and horror is not exactly my favorite educational tool. But... yeah. Anyway. Perhaps if I need to I'll write more on the subject later.

For now, I need to shower and sleep. Goodnight.

post #2

She crawled into the bed. Another night. What would this one bring? She put her head near his shoulder and took his hand. She wasn't tired, but they had to sleep. There was stuff to do in the morning. He turned over on his side, his arm bringing hers with it, around his waist, and she snuggled up against his back, just like always. But tonight, his back was a wall. She wondered what was going on, on the other side of that wall.

He lay there as she crawled into the bed next to him. He thought about kissing her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If she knew what he held inside. If she knew what he couldn't tell her, she wouldn't want to kiss him. She wouldn't want to be there. She would walk home alone at that hour and refuse his offer of driving her.

She lay there, hugging a wall, wondering why it was so solid and yet everything was crumbling around her. She didn't know what was happening, but she could feel the severing of the connection. She had to act before it was too late. She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder blade. It was the only thing she could think to do. She knew it wouldn't do anything to save them. But it happened on some primal instinct. She knew that she HAD to do it.

And now its been several months since she has seen his face. And she still thinks about the last time that she kissed him. She wonders if he was awake when it happened. She wonders if he knew.

post #1

I just talked to my mom. She's getting along with K, all of a sudden. Another arrow in my heart, telling me my past was screwed up, despite being perfect.

this weekend and beyond

I went home this weekend. G came to church on Sunday and it was interesting. I was hit by a wave of nostalgia again. Part of me doesn't want to go there anymore. Not because it hurts, but because it doesn't hurt and I somehow feel like it should. Like I shouldn't have moved on. I got to see someone (several someone's) who may or may not be related to me. It was a strange feeling, because it has extended into another generation. I guess that's it... I'm just feeling old. I know I'm not... but I feel it. Perhaps this is enhanced by the fact that I have a huge pain in my back from some unknown injury that I can't remember getting.

And then also... things have been happening that make me think...

I played Hamlet today in my Basic Theater Texts class. It was interesting. It made me think. Hamlet's a thinker. The monologue I did was about action. How Hamlet sees other people doing things, achieving the goals they want, chasing after the dreams they have, and wonders why he can't do that also, when he does have the strength and will and power to do it.

So that's what I was thinking. I have the strength and power and will to do two things. And one... I think is just fear holding me back. The other, like Hamlet's quest for vengeance on his uncle, is a little less defined. I have to be sure I want it first. I have to be sure the ghost is telling the truth. And I have to be sure that I'm not hung up on... the past.

Well... that was obscure. I think I'm going to start writing in my private journal again. I'm closing off... not on purpose. Maybe that's just how my life goes through different stages.

thinking

Spring is coming
And even though it snowed this morning
Spring is in the air
And the back of my mind.

The attic is full of dust and cobwebs and she wanders up the stairs. The sun filters in through the single dusty window, lighting up the sparkly dust in the air. Its a place long forgotten, a place of happy comfort. There's an old braided rug on the wooden floor, and a toy dinosaur lying on his side, long killed by some meteor or GI Joe. A box of doll clothes in the corner. She sinks onto the rug and turns her attention to a bookshelf. Rilla and Ken look wistfully from the cover of a book, and Hamlet beholds his father's ghost. The playmates she once knew wander through the dust of that attic, leaving footprints despite being ghosts.

What's that? Footfalls on the stairs? Two sets of eyes peer between the railing and a hand comes up, tossing a tiny seashell across the floor towards her. That is her memento of them, and as abruptly as they came, they leave. Another footfall sounds, and she realizes she's not alone. Yet another seashell. This time it is accompanied by a sprig of mountain laurel. Long dried, its flowers are dull and brown. He waves, she waves back, and watches as slowly, the brown flowers fade to tiny white goblets, and the leaves uncurl to their glossy green. Happy spring is here. In full bloom, right in the attic. Ghostly sparrows chirp and cross her trail, she sees a sight of camoflage pants, and ragged holes, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. The dusty attic smell can stay because it so closely resembles the mulch of spring, the squish of mud, the caked and dirty boots. The things and sights and smells so precious to her heart. Slowly the vision fades. The mulch begins to rot and the sights and sounds once precious are torn away by the passage of time.

Time brings adventure, and exploration of new lands, and freedom. She revels in the welcome breeze of a new place, and new sights and sounds. The breeze and warm heavy rain are almost enough to wash the pain from her heart at what she left behind. Faces dance before her in the misty afternoon sunlight filtering into the attic. Just as quickly, they too fade away.

Spring comes again, with a guitar and a dress and little clear marble. Sun shines brightly in the puddle at her feet, nearly blinding her. Happy times are once more before her, only to be taken away once more. Why does spring bring such emotion for her?

Again she departs for an adventure, explores new lands and freedoms. This time she notices the changes it brings to her. To who she really is. To her beliefs. The changes wrought in her bring contentment, yet intense pain to her heart.

There is a point between fall and winter where life seems to be utterly meaningless and useless. This is the opposite of spring, and she did her best to remain there. She didn't want to be reminded of the happy times that came before her departure. She didn't want to be reminded that life is not so simple as it once was.

She could stay in the land of the dead and hide from life for as long as she wanted. But life was determined to find her, in one form or another. She would not take the joys she'd once known, but there were others that would hunt her down. The sun began to fade, as she'd spent the entire day in that attic. The dust was no longer illuminated, and the walls faded to a metallic black. The creaky floorboards caught her attention, because they sounded suddenly different. The wind outside became a soft, clean whirring sound. Another footfall, this time she runs to the banister to look down. Yet another seashell... this one is made of glass. It has a soft brown color, which she thinks is so fitting. Happiness and light forces its way in, with sunshine and dragons and pretty ladies and flowers and doublets. She looks around the room. Luggage. A plane ticket. Change is coming again. The wind outside grows louder and a girl's voice calls out in another language. Where are you? And the window shatters in the wind, blowing the dust around her until the images of her past vanish.

The wind gets colder and she begins to shiver. A dim light begins to glow around her, and she feels the warmth radiating through her... not of happiness but the promise of healing. More voices, but she can't see them. She's confused and no longer knows which way to go to find more memories. She wonders if she should begin to clean the attic, but decides she likes it the way it is. Things long gone can be relived here. But things that aren't long gone cannot visit while she's here. She wishes there was a way to relive her memories and still live her life.

She sighs... spring is coming again. Is that good or bad?

la

Haven't posted in a while.

Valentine's day just happens to be also Steve's birthday. So Anissa and I made dinner for him... kind of a last minute thing. Otherwise maybe we'd invite more people. But it was a good happy memorable dinner. I really enjoyed myself, and Anissa and I had so much fun planning it. I think it was the most fun I've had planning either a birthday or a Valentine's day in quite a while. Andrew's birthday gift in August was fun. But other than that, a while means like, years.

I haven't posted much lately, cause I'm not doing so hot in some areas of my life. And I don't really feel like writing about them. That and I'm swamped with work right now. I have to read 159 pages of Frankenstein before 9:50 am. That's 5 hours. Ick. Not gonna happen.

Anyway... I'm just writing cause...

Andrew made my day today (Wednesday). Whether he meant to do this or not, something he did really touched my heart. And that's all.

my evening...

So, I went home for, well, something I don't really want to talk about... all I can sarcastically say is... no pressure.

But that was yesterday (Friday) and this is today. And I accompanied Doug to his friend's wedding. It was cool. Non-traditional and cool. I had a good time, its fun being dressed up once in a while, and... its not something I would do every Saturday night, so it was good to do something out of the norm.

Weddings always make me think about my wedding. When I actually get to that part of my life. I think I probably wrote this for the last wedding that I went to, so I won't really go into too much detail. Gee... the last wedding I went to must have been Dave and Jen's. That was a long time ago. Feels like it anyway. I was still on speaking terms with... mmm... back to tonight.

Where was I? Non-traditional... gorgeous pink sequiny dress. No attendants. That's where I was going with this. I was thinking about my wedding. Is this possible: modern traditional? Like... I want a traditional wedding... white dress, bouquet and garter toss, toast by the best man, father-daughter dance... etc. But at the same time, I want to do other, non-traditional things. The bridal party, for example. Why are they always women? Some of my closest friends are guys. I would feel horrible leaving them out, 'cause traditionally, the bride picks the bridesmaids/MoH, and the groom picks the groomsmen/best man. So... little things like that, I'd switch up a bit. So, I'd give the illusion of it being a totally traditional wedding, but then add little quirks. 'Cause I think sometimes that is sorta how my personality is. And... I have a feeling that the groom at my wedding might be the same way.

Or... haha. Building off Doug's idea. The wedding march, nice, traditional song. Play it in polyphonic ringtones.

Nahh...

Anyway. Rewind a bit back to tonight. The cocktail hour was fun. I can't remember the names of the people I met. But in the course of that hour, Rutgers, jujitsu, judo, and theater/Mason Gross came up a couple times. It was cool bashing Mason Gross... I mean. Did I say that?

The reception was good too. I liked the center pieces. I realized at the end they were gardenias, my mom's favorite flower. The only way I knew though, is that my nose cleared up towards the end (I'm allergic to mom's guinea pig so I was stuffy) and I could smell the gardenias. They looked like rose/orchid things. So I couldn't tell till I smelled them.

Anyway, big thank you to Doug for inviting me. It was good.

Now I have to go work on a top secret project for Tuesday. Goodnight everyone!

a rare event

Its not every day I will tell you all exactly what I'm thinking. But I'm feeling generous, so here's a running mental commentary on today's events.

Wake up.

What time is it? My alarm didn't go off, AGAIN.

Check the time and the alarm.

Its set properly. What the heck. Maybe its time to get a new clock. This one has strange memories associated with it anyway.

Walk to the kitchen.

Hi Molly. No, go away Molly. Oh, Sam's here. Huh. Wonder if I'll ever eat anything besides cereal for breakfast on a school day.

Go back to my room. Brit wrote to me about the Gospels.

Ehh... Gonna be late for class. Get off of me Molly.

Run to the bus. Get to my 9:50 class. The teacher from the lecture before is still talking. I sit down to wait for that class to end. A woman walks past on the linoleum floor in stilletto heels. TAP TAP TAP...

Oh, COME ON... Godzilla has a louder entrance than that. You can do better, go back to the doorway and start over again. Don't give me that look. You're just jealous of my NIKES!!

Another woman enters, quieter heels though. She goes upstairs. She has a really cheerful voice. I know because I could hear her all the way down the hall and down the staircase. "HI Iris, how are you doing??!" Iris is even more cheerful. "I'm GREAT!! How about you?"

Why the heck is everyone so cheerful today? Why won't this professor shut up? He sounds like a bumble bee, just droning on and on... Gee the class is running really late. What time is it? WHAT? 8:30?? How can it be 8:30 if I set my alarm for 8:50?

It sinks in.

WHY HAVE I SUDDENLY FORGOTTEN HOW TO READ A DIGITAL CLOCK???

Yeah so that's my day so far. I'm going to sleep. Because I lost an hour of sleep in the mix somehow.

as if I haven't posted enough

There's an article about the 10 worst Valentine's Day gifts to give someone.

I disagree with the first one. Flowers totally depend on the person. Example, I'd be thrilled if my boyfriend gave me red roses. More thrilled if they were orange or yellow roses. But roses are good. Tulips are bad. So are daffodils. But other people might love tulips. So there's really no way of knowing if that is a bad gift.

And lol... this part made me laugh: "Do the math: Out of every box of 15 assorted chocolates, a woman will probably have three or so favorites. And there’s all that crazy, frou-frou wrapping as part of the picture—enough satin and ribbon to fashion a child’s princess-bride Halloween costume. So what would you rather get? Three chocolates you want and 21 you don't—along with a lot of excess red metallic cardboard? Or a small box of something you actually like?"

Anyway... my two cents. I'm not giving or receiving Valentine's gifts that day, but some of you are, so I thought I'd pass along that little nugget of wisdom. No chocolates. Chocolates bad. (Honestly, the author is a WOMAN, how can she possibly say not to give chocolate on Valentine's Day??)

Whatever.

wow

So, God is cool.

I'm writing a script for an easter play... and I've been stressing about it. And avoiding it.

And while that may be a bad thing, the good that came from it was that I spent more time reading the gospels and comparing the stories about Jesus life and death. And I wouldn't have spent that time if I weren't writing the script so slowly.

And if I hadn't spent that time reading, I never would have noticed this one tiny little verse. In the 6 years I spent at a Christian school, and then spending all this time at church and stuff... I am amazed I never noticed this one part of the Easter story before.

Matthew 27:50 - 53 And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

I've read the gospels, but I've never analyzed them, and never from a theatrical perspective. But... that's fascinating. Just think what would have happened if The Passion of the Christ had been made by someone other than Mel Gibson. Peter Jackson. Or Steven Spielburg. It would give the story a completely different look.

And... it made me learn a little more about the gospels. They also tell the same story... but from different perpectives. So, I never knew what to say to people who tell me I shouldn't believe the Bible because the gospels all contradict themselves. But now, I know. Picture Mel Gibson, Mel Brooks, Steven Spielburg, and Roberto Benigni all telling the same story. Its like that. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are telling the same story.

So... cool. I kinda learned something today.

On a separate note... I used to have writer's callouses on my middle finger, from holding a pen. Sadly, these are gone. The callouses are now on my wrists from resting in front of the keyboard. EEP!

Senioritis

Senioritis is an actual, physical ailment. I had no idea it could be this acute, and I didn't realize it was possible to say, "I suffer from senioritis." I now understand so much more about a certain part of my past that I never understood before.

On another note... I never sent that email. But I did send a different one. And Anissa was right. There's a certain little element of hope involved in it somehow, hope that maybe something will happen. Even when that hope is least intended, its there. I don't regret sending it. I regret needing to.

monsters

I'm taking a comparative literature class about monsters. Basically we read stuff and then discuss what makes a monster, people's perceptions of monsters, etc.

Today we watched Nosferatu, based on Bram Stoker's Dracula. Its a silent film, the only dialogue being written on the screen in still frames. Made me think of something I read once:

Head Photographer: The lead actress wants you to know she doesn't like her lines.
Director: I don't care! This is a silent film! She's gonna say those lines!

Anyway... random bits of not-humor.

From an acting perspective, it was very interesting. Melodramatic. Makes me wish the theater department would make us watch stuff like that so that we know what they're talking about when it comes to the history of theater.

The subject matter brought me back to... sophomore year? When Kevin took that seminar on Dracula and I proofread his 30 page paper. Fascinating.

The effect the movie had on me was interesting. It reminded me of the samurai class I took last year. In the samurai class, there was an old black and white movie that we watched... that had very little blood and guts, but some how made me almost lose my lunch. I think filmmakers were better back then. This movie today too... if I had watched it late at night with Anissa/Steve/Sam/Andrew/James/anyone else, I'd probably have my face buried in someone's armpit. I couldn't finish watching War of the Worlds, because I'm not good with horror/scary films. Nosferatu is so much creepier, yet it was filmed in such a way that the viewer is sort of roped in. You can't leave, you MUST watch it to the end. War of the Worlds is so flashy I think, with fancy mechanics and what-not, that the rope-you-in element is lost, and I was given the opportunity to leave before the end and took it. Nosferatu is a horror movie in that it really controls you and keeps you in your seat.

Which makes me think of something that's been simmering in my mind lately. On Thursday, Barb had us doing jujitsu stuff blindfolded. Stimes, throws, hand techniques, grappling. It was really interesting. I somehow felt more focused when the element of sight was taken away. I think sometimes using all my senses at once can be decieving. So taking sight away, focuses me more on just sound and touch. It would be difficult to do this, but I'd be interesting in finding out how jujitsu works without some of the other senses. Like maybe have my eyesight, but lose the sense of sound. Or seeing and hearing myself do the art, without feeling my body. That would be the hardest to figure out how to simulate that.

But anyway... this all ties into Nosferatu because it is, in a sense, the same principle. You take away the elements of sound effects, spoken dialogue, and even color, and the remaining parts of the film become so much more meaningful. You focus more on other things, and you see what is really important in the making of a riveting film. I sort of get this from jujitsu, but its about the least effort possible. If you can make a riveting film without using sound, digital enhancement, fancy flashy explosions, etc... then you shouldn't. Because all that is just excess trappings and hodgepodge.

Just like how in some cases, being able to see what you're doing in jujitsu can be excess trappings and hodgepodge. Of course, not in all cases. But for me... there are some things that I now would prefer to do without relying so heavily on eyesight.

I wonder what else that applies to in life? Hmmm... several things come to mind.

Thanks for following my random thoughts going all over the place.

Dear...

You owe me an explanation. Everywhere I go, I see you. You follow me like a shadow and watch me like a hawk. You weasel your way into my thoughts and then you have the nerve to find me in my dreams. You must really have a crush on me. I don't blame you but... sometimes I think you are taking things too far.

Thank you.
~M

If you don't get it, then you need to hang out with me on Saturday. We're gonna watch the movie.

politics?

This is, surprisingly, a political post. I don't normally write political posts because, frankly, I don't like conflict. And I don't like having two friends who would tear each other (or me) apart for saying something they don't like. But this has been kind of simmering at the back of my mind for some time now.

Politicians are stupid. Politics are stupid. The ideal, perfect form of government is a monarchy because its people could have complete trust in a leader and not have to make any decisions. The reason people should not be allowed to make decisions is that they, like the politicians, are stupid. Take for example the guy sitting next to me in the computer lab. His computer card says he should be sitting at computer 431. However, because he was allowed to make a decision, he went to computer 141, thus taking the computer on my card, and trying to hide the fact that he's doing it by putting his card in backwards. Because of that, I am sitting at 142. When the person with the 142 card came up, they left their card next to me in hopes I would notice my supposed mistake, but I was so absorbed in being annoyed at the other guy that I didn't notice until they had left. So now I have two cards. But when you really think about it, all three of us were stupid. Things would have been so much better if one person had made the decision for us: "You need to tell her she's at the wrong computer, YOU need to tell HIM he's at the wrong computer, and he's just an idiot." Unfortunately, earth has no perfect monarchy because leaders corrupt themselves. Continuing along my current analogy, the monarch of the computer lab probably would not have solved the problem, but instead would have done something like this: "HAHAHA You're all idiots! I'm taking all three of your computers. In fact I'm taking all 400 computers, and I'm going to use them to get RICH!" Which is why I'm still ok living in America. It is in a sense the next best thing.

However, a representative republic such as this one is also a scary thing. Instead of allowing one corrupt leader to rule, we are allowing the entire nation to be evil rulers together. This is because I believe humankind is naturally evil. To be good, one must work for it. Otherwise being good would not be such a praiseworthy thing.

So... I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Its more just a general rant against politics. I'm not promoting any particular party in this blog entry because right now, they're all stupid in my mind.

Hmm... that was a weird mindset I woke up in. Perhaps it has to do with falling asleep reading French philosophy on the existance of monsters.

Anyway... back to your regularly scheduled randomness. I have a papercut. That is all.

I forgot

I forgot to mention the butterfly.

In that massage class, there's one other thing that the teacher had us do... to help the person receiving the massage, we do gentle stretches of their arms, legs, and back. To help them relax, we first relax ourselves, and then comes the butterfly.

Put the thumb of your left hand lightly on their forehead, on the "third eye." Put the thumb of your right hand on top of your left thumb. Then let your fingers drape down the sides of their head, slightly over the temples. Hold this for 15-30 seconds, I can't remember the exact number that she said. I'll have to ask her. Then remove your hands in the opposite order, so, lift your fingers, then remove your thumbs.

As the person giving the massage, you are supposed to imagine your fingers are a butterfly lightly landing on a fragile flower. When I was the person receiving the massage, it was amazing. I was lying in my secret place with the sun shining down on my face, and I can't tell you where exactly it was or it wouldn't be a secret, but I will tell you it was a grassy meadow of sorts. And all of a sudden, the biggest butterfly I have ever seen came dancing over and landed on my forehead. I remembered being 6 years old and chasing butterflies, wishing they would just ONCE sit still long enough so I could get a decent look at them. I didn't chase to catch, I only wanted to get close. But this one gave me the honor of sitting right there on my forehead, and I couldn't help but smile. It was incredible.

The other thing I wanted to write about is not quite as happy as what I just wrote, but its nothing to worry about. I was sitting at Anissa's reading my Ancient Near East history book, and I read something about violence. And then my mind started to wander so I started thinking about the violence in New Brunswick, which led to what if I'm attacked, which led to grappling with an attacker, which led to grappling with dojo members on jujitsu nights, which led to freestyle and the competition in CA, which led to the fact that there's no division for my rank which means I have to compete against people who outrank me, which led to testing for the next rank, and then all of a sudden I got really nervous about testing. And suddenly I had somehow read a whole page in my history book without comprehending it, and the nervousness went away. It was weird. The first time you test for a rank, its ok to be nervous cause you don't know what's coming. But now, I know what to expect for gokyu, and I know that I know my stuff, so there's no reason to be nervous. Maybe it was just remnants of nervousness that I buried way down deep from last year. I dunno. It was odd. Its gone now though.

"To me it felt like a sense of abandon, a kind of falling. It was not 'wild' but it was total."
~Cyrus

In one sense, I am learning every day how to feel like this. In a completely different sense, I mastered it once. And it was one of the best moments in my life. Which is more motivation to relearn it.

What gets me though... is why I unlearned it in the first place.

cold

So... the heater in my room hasn't been warm in 12 days. Our thermostat is in the living room which stays warm. So the system thinks every room in the house is warm. But my room has 6 windows. Thank God my mom gave me a down blanket for Christmas.

I mentioned that I was going to write about the massage class.

The teacher began by explaining to us about our bodies. It was really interesting. She said all the water and cells flowing through your body rub against each other to create elecricity. So there's basically an electrical field around your body. A lot of religious groups or cultures will refer to it as chi, an aura, or an Indian word I can't pronounce. But they make something mystical out of it when really, the way she described it, it took all the mysticism away and was very straight-forward, and physical.

Then she had us reach out and touch it. We spread our hands about shoulder length away from each other and slowly move them closer, eyes closed. At some point, the electrical fields overlap and you feel a change in pressure, heat, magnetism... whatever. People had different ways of describing it.

It was really eye-opening. I mean, I've felt spirits before, of people, demons, angels, and God. But it was on a spiritual level. When I put my hands together today, I felt like I was touching my spirit with my physical hands. Like I was crossing some sort of boundary.

Then she talked about how a massage therapist needs to be centered and relaxed in order to help their patient be centered and relaxed. So she taught us how to center ourselves and I think I needed that a lot. It would be very helpful for the days when I'm not all there in jujitsu and need to focus but can't.

Basically, its the same concept as something we do as a theater exercise, but with a different goal in mind, because obviously, theater has a different purpose than massage. But she told us to imagine a place where we are happy and content, with a warm radiating light above our heads, and go to that place whenever we need to center ourselves.

I went to a secret place from my high school years, some of the happiest years of my life. The sun was shining, filtering through tree leaves so it sparkled on my eyelids. And it was in the warmth of late spring. And my body was whole, healthy, pre-jujitsu injuries, during the time when I danced and ran track and walked horses for exercise. And no one was with me. No one could follow me, no one knew where I was. What's more... certain people did not exist. The past was not the past yet. There was no pain in my heart. So now... I can't wait for spring to come. So I can go home, and go on a sort of pilgrimage. I want to be there for real. I want to go visit that place, 'cause I miss it.

But anyway... bottom line is... that's what the teacher had us do... a mental exercise to get us focused. And I think from now on, when I'm struggling in jujitsu, I'm gonna try going there. I wanna see what happens when I do jujitsu in that place. Perhaps I'll go there so often that I won't have to work to get there anymore.

It will be interesting to see what develops from this.

Ok that's all. Beginner jujitsu class was today too. That was fun. But it was just practice for me today. It'll be good to go back to the basics to make sure I'm strong in all that stuff. Cool.

Goodnight.