Peace flowing like a river

I used to write so many, many, silly things.
I wrote about boys I liked, daydreams, and bonds of friendship never-to-be-broken.

The boys' names and faces have all but faded from memory; their paper representations long ago wadded and crumpled, thrown away.
The daydreams have vanished or tarnished;
as quickly as they came, they left,
melting into the nothing that they were born of.

Never-to-be-broken friendships, inevitably, have either dissolved through the washing of years, or remained unbroken only because of an almost transparent silken thread, spanning time and space to connect two souls whose life in years past was so intertwined as to have almost been one soul inhabiting two bodies.

What is all of this, this time and love, care, and dreaming?
What does it amount to?
We breathe in and fall in love,
We breathe out and it is gone.
Where do these seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, seasons, years, and decades go?
Why, when the experience has passed, is there a shadow of it in my mind's eye?
The memories are tangible; sometimes they can be as real as this very pen-scratchy moment: snapshots in time of smells, feelings, of sunshine highlighting a ballet of dust particles, suspended animation.
Other times they are dim: I wonder who it was that lived those dreams;
What book did I read that story in?
Was it simply a philosophical scramble? a Shakespearean assay of ecclesiastical vanity?

Who knows the rhyme of this poetry called life? or the sum of its equations?
But through any residual confusion I cling to the steadfast; searching for sameness as a firm footing.
My foundation is strongest granite and will not crumble under my dancing feet.

And yes, despite the fog rolling in, despite the dreams that shadow my resolve, despite the tears dimming my heart, when the fog rolls away I will bask in the sun and I will never stop dancing.

Christine

Currently listening to: Texas Public Radio's classical music station.
Just watched: Wooster and Jeeves, and Little Rascals (various episodes of both).

Test time

Tuesday Danielle and I had a yoga test (oops, I forgot that I wasn't going to ever admit that to anyone, but I guess this doesn't really count as no one reads my blog anyway).

We did fine, I think. Tomorrow we have a much harder test in philosophy. For my in-class essay I am writing about Determinism verses the hierarchical compatibility theory of free will (oh joy).

Dad is getting better day by day. I can't believe how much he has changed since he has stopped taking his medications. The vitamins have helped too, I think, but that is harder to tell. His recovering process is a huge relief; I have been so worried. I love him so much. Thank God that this time of excruciating pain is over for the whole family.

*sigh* I fear I am rambling because I am tired.

Later,
'Stine

Currently listening to: Girl with a Pearl Earring, by Tracy Chevalier (audio book).

Quote for the day

Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice;
journalism what will be grasped at once. -Cyril Connolly, critic and editor
(1903-1974)

School can be a wonderful place...

10-13-2005

School can be a wonderful place (stress the word "can"). I'm just sitting here waiting for this guy to finish reading the book that I need for my class tomorrow. One of the other girls in my class had checked it out already and I was helping her scan copies of it for her to use. This guy came up and asked if we were almost done and then he just stood there waiting for us to be done with it. I figured he was in a greater hurry than I was and I didn't want him standing over my shoulder the whole time I was trying to figure out what to copy, so I asked him if he would take very long. He said 10-15 minutes, so I let him have it. And now I am just waiting.

...*minutes pass*...

*sigh*

We are having "issues" at home right now. I'm fine with everything that's going on, but Laura is upset because Mom and Dad told her that they feel Nathan is not the right guy for her. She doesn't know if he is or isn't (at least that's what she told me), but she wants to keep up her relationship with him. Mom and Dad told her that they suggested she didn't call him or IM him any more, but that since they were friends they could email back and forth. They are setting up times to email each other and are treating email like IM. Laura and I had a little bit of a talk the other day about the situation, but I don't think she has resolved to do anything on her own. She seems to feel that she'll hurt his feelings, plus it's nice to be in a relationship with someone who likes you and compliments you. It's nice to have someone to think about and it's nice to think that they're thinking about you. I talked about getting trapped in a relationship and not being able to do anything because you're involved with someone else.
___________________________

10-15-2005

Anyways, the guy came back then and gave me the book so I saved this as a draft and have come back today to finish it off and get it published.

The little speech went alright, though I totally blanked on my topic and didn't have it written on my note card, so I kinda fudged that a bit *extremely embarrassed*

Atka, the first girl to speak, spoke so well that I think it intimidated everyone else. Shelley, my instructor, asked us if we had any questions and the whole room was dead quiet. I raised my hand slowly and asked: "What if our talk doesn't sound like Atka's?" Everyone laughed (kind of nervously, but relieved) and Shelley laughed and told us that everyone was different when it came to giving speeches and that Atka must have taken a speech class or taught one or something. This made everyone feel a little better and we all gave our speeches without too much stuttering or stumbling.

Before my student leadership class I had a meeting with my Philosophy Professor. He is getting together a team of students for something called "the Ethics Bowl". It's similar to a debate team, only each person gets to take his own stance in a given situation. I'm excited to do something new, only I hope it won't be too much for me to bear.

Today the family is having a garage sale. Eric is running it and he's supposed to make half of whatever the whole sale makes... sounds like he's really making out, but I don't care as long as I'm not the one having to work the sale. I like going to garage sales, but not running them. I guess it's really the thought of all our rejects sitting out on the driveway for people to go through that really bothers me.

So I'm avoiding it all together.

Tonight I have to work (no play for me this weekend, but I think I already mentioned this fact). I go in at 5:30PM and come home about 10:00AM. *sigh* all night in a building with a group of 30 children and a few of their parents... doesn't sound like fun to me, but at least I'm getting paid.

BLAH.

I feel like running and hiding. We'll see how it goes.

That's all for now folks.

Christine