Acceptance

     I build my thoughts from the ground
     (and every room with a view).
     It should be structurally sound to ever stand up to you.

          As quick as brick can be laid
          I'm building walls to provide
          some kind of shelter to save
          every good point I find.

              Oh, but wind will blow, and weeds will grow inside your mind.
              Foundation's cracked when you forget the facts every time.

If stories come to me in the dark solitude of three am, so be it. I'm sick of trying to force myself to go to bed at a decent hour and wake up while it's still technically morning. I'll do so for work, but otherwise, I'm going to do whatever it takes to be creative. If I don't fit into "real life" standards, eff it. I'm here to be a writer, not to wake up in time to catch breakfast at McDonald's.

it will always be what i've loved*

*and hated

Sometimes I play certain songs on repeat,
like the lyrics are going to give me the answers.



I've been listening.
I feel like I'm so close to the solution, but
I just can't grasp it.

anything less than love is a disaster

Sometimes you think you're invincible. You have the best weekend on record. You start to redefine yourself in terms that are yours alone, not based on what you're studying or what genre you're in. Even your Monday is pretty great - work flies by and is actually enjoyable, and you spend time giggling like high school girls with a friend. It's fall and it's beautiful and it's warm but you need a sweater when the breeze blows. You discuss poems you like in class and people read their writing and when you leave, it's dark outside and seems late, but the evening still stretches out ahead of you. Invincible.

Then, in an instant, your heart is broken and your day crumbles.

Ok, ok, I'm being dramatic. But really, it's called for and expected if you know me. Thanks, Geof, for breaking my heart. No, seriously. I don't know when I would have heard the news if not for your perfectly timed texts - my phone went off right after I got to my room, so I wasn't brought to my knees, crying like a baby on campus. [Also, thanks to Ryan for putting me on suicide-watch via Facebook.]

Bye-bye, Aerosmith as I knew and loved thee.
Joe Perry twats that the band will find a new lead singer, and Aerosmith is NOT breaking up, but... geez, really?! New name for a new band, please. If Steven is "branding" himself, then let Aerosmith rest before you ruin it with someone else - even if their voice is amazing. Just start fresh, or fade away. (Start fresh, start fresh! I didn't mean the second part, I swear!)

Bottom line, I'm kinda crushed. But I'm a big girl. I've learned not to let men break my heart like this. I can get over it. I will get over it. I will move on and still have all the memories.

I wonder what it would sound like to have Anthony Keidis front the band. AeRedHotSmith? If only I could sing. Something worth dropping out for.

It's something that I want.

          as I step out into space,
          I wonder what you'd say
          if you knew that I was here,
          perfecting my mistakes

I have a time management problem, but I have big goals and great dreams.

[I have great dreams in general, actually. Last night I went to an amusement park and there was a skee ball machine, except it had massive balls (heh) and I got to throw oversized mallets at them as they rolled towards me, instead of trying to get anything in a hoop. I was really good at it. I got over 300 tickets with one round. I said I wanted to get a big prize, but my friend said no, I had to get a lot of small ones and share with everyone. When the friend went off to play another game, I ran back to the mallet machine to earn more tickets.]

In reality (boo!), my dreams involve me being on top of things. Completing work for school. Having time to write fiction for my own pleasure. Having time to read over the notes I get from our out-of-class workshop, ASL. Revising according to these notes. The submission bug is nibbling, but I need to be better prepared.

Next semester, I keep saying. Next semester I'll have to be on top of things, because I'm taking a Pedagogy course that will be vital to my teaching career. But there are still about five weeks left in this semester, and where does that leave me?

Slacking. Greatly. What a horrible first impression on these teachers I'll be spending three years with. I hate that it's so hard to make myself care. I keep justifying it as my "adjustment semester," and it doesn't help that my mom's on my side with that. If Mom says so, then it's true, bottom line.

                         (i used to be a rider,
                         and never had to choose;
                         but now that i'm a driver,
                         there's so much more to lose)

I love how nerdy everyone was on registration day, talking about what we wanted to take and basically counting down the minutes until we could sign up. I love getting a good review, not being told I'm a failure, and getting to keep my job... for the time being.

I found this fantastic picture to brighten my days.

It makes me squeal from cute overload.

I doubled up for Halloween this past weekend... bad choice on my part. Friday was a never-before-seen episode of Wayne's World in Zombieland. We spoke in movie dialogue, SCHWING!ed every girl who walked by, and I exhausted my dance moves (like THAT'S hard) with "Foxy Lady." Saturday I was a nerd, wearing clothes from my very own closet, re-using the Garth glasses, and sporting a USB necklace. Kelly loaned me a pair of suspenders, and while most of my dance moves were again Garth-centric, I added in a little suspender dancing. I expect it'll soon be all the rage in dance clubs across America.