February 8, 2010

More from French Class

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Le prof showed us this video before handing back our midterms from last week. If you can imagine the listening portion being worse than this representation of how the oral part of the exam went, then you have a pretty good idea of how I’m doing in the class. I laughed pretty hard, and yet, “suis-je ‘bothered’”? Oui.

When the bell rang at the end of class today, I gathered my things, and after I returned my exam to le prof, I said, “Je déteste …!” And a classmate heard me, and she asked, “What?” Then, matter-of-factly, I said, “Cette classe.” Then she laughed really hard and asked if I was serious, and I told her I like the class, I just don’t like the grade I’m getting, and that it makes me mad. She could relate.

Enjoy.

more about “More from French Class“, posted with vodpod

 

February 8, 2010

Shoot

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A friend has hired me to take some pictures for her at the end of March. Kind of sounds like a big deal. I guess she’ll keep me posted. Should be interesting.

 

February 7, 2010

Out of My System in 27 Syllables

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You are done.
I get it.
I’ll just deal.

Time will pass.
You’ll forget.
Then we’ll heal.

Years ago
We won’t know
How we felt.

 

February 6, 2010

French Class Stuff

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I really like my French class. The other blog has her own reasons for liking it, but I really like having always to pay attention. We’re learning by immersion, and my brain makes quick associations.  My writing isn’t quite up to the speed it was 15 years ago in high school, but my speaking and comprehension are so much better, well, except for listening portion of this week’s midterm. That really sucked. Also, I can only really speak in the present tense. All that matters is now, anyway, right?

Our instructor often shows us crazy videos from Québec or fun music from YouTube. The animations from Québec are a little creepy, but they’re also fun.

Têtes à claques – “Pilote d’avion”

Here’s a catchy French song we listened to yesterday:

“La Lettre” – Renan Luce + Paroles

more about “La Lettre – Renan Luce + Paroles“, posted with vodpod
 

February 6, 2010

This Campus Is So Dang Weird

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I passed by this display on my way into the bookstore on Monday, then I turned back around to take a picture:

Yes, it’s blurry, because I was in a hurry to take it. I stood in the way of the student populous rushing into the bookstore to purchase whatever trinkets and baubles and delectables for their romantic interests, wives, crushes, targets of stalking.

I also took this picture on Monday. It’s kind of a miracle, actually, because I happened to be in the market for some Post-Impressionist art. When I walked into the Wilkinson Center after getting off the bus, I walked straight to the community ad board, not very hopeful I’d find any Van Gogh or Cezanne. It’s not often, or ever that I have these sorts of hankerings, but the clouds parted and heaven’s rays shone upon this:

It almost makes me want to cut off my own ear. And the photo before makes me want to rip my beating heart from my chest.

Seriously, BYU.

 

February 5, 2010

Still Applies

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The power and wisdom of friends are beyond measure. One such friend told me one day:

May, … I wanted to share a few thoughts with you while they were fresh in my mind…..

First, let me say that I understand, from more firsthand experience than I wish I had, how you feel.  You know I’ve … been utterly perplexed as to what I should do next, and all as a single person, which adds a whole new dimension that most can’t understand.  I still look at my life occasionally and think, “Where am I going?  Why did I decide to do this?  And why didn’t things work out the way I wanted them to in (fill in the blank)?”.  I’ve been angry and not known what I was angry at, been sadder than I thought I could bear, and ached for people and places I left behind.  So, long story short….you are not alone.  Others have been where you are now, and while they can’t do much to take away the struggle you are going through, they do understand and know that the darkness will clear at some point.

Secondly, I want you to know that I am always willing to talk about anything you need to talk about….there is no need to be eloquent or even to make sense.  I have tried to give you your space … but don’t think that I’m not always willing to listen.  …  Don’t put so much pressure on yourself to make this time MEAN something, if that makes sense…..just relax and rest and take care of yourself and try to find fun when you can.  You are going through a major change in your life, and that is going to have an effect on your mental state….it would on anyone’s.  Don’t think there’s anything wrong with YOU when your brain feels jumbled or angst-ridden.

Thirdly (why do I feel like I’m writing a 3-point high school essay?), please know that being here is not a failure.  I admit that I am not coming from the perspective of someone who has lived in New York (and I’m not saying that sarcastically, if it sounds that way :-) , but I have lived in a big city and I’ve traveled a lot and I know, to some extent, at least, the amazing life and opportunities those places offer.  But I’ve also found, through my own struggles, that there are things you can get here that you can’t get there.  I know it’s hard not to compare while you are here, but please don’t give those thoughts that you’ve landed back in lame-o podunkville any credence.  This place is filled with beautiful people who are living life and who have dreams and aspirations and disappointments and heartaches.  It’s okay to be here.  Where you are does nothing to define who you are.  This is just a part of your journey.

Finally, and most importantly, I believe firmly that God is a God of new life, of rebirth, of redemption, and of grace.  He is always doing something with our lives if we are seeking Him, even when we seem to be in the midst of a desert.  He takes the pieces of our lives and forms beautiful things, and I know He is doing that with yours.  Trust Him and trust that He’s doing something. That is the only anchor that holds firm.  I take a lot of encouragement from Psalm 103, especially vs. 2-5:
“Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits–who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”

May, I hope this doesn’t seem judgmental (it’s not meant that way) or like so many platitudes.  They are just thoughts that I hope will help a bit.

Thank you.

 

February 4, 2010

Time Out

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Somebody needs to tell the other persona over at the other blog that I’m taking a boy break. Seriously. Only so many hours in a day, you know?

Lots going on. The semester is gaining momentum. Midterms, papers, studying. Minimally required socializing, other than dating. Let’s break it down.

Hours in a school week: 24X5=120

Credit hours: 13

Time outside of class for studying: Anywhere between 3 and 5 hours per credit hour. (There’s just a ton of reading to do.) 39-65 hours

Writing papers: 5 hours

Churchy things; prayer, scripture study, etc.: 2-3 hours

Commute: 2 hours

Television: (Sorry, I need my Chuck and Lost) 2-3 hours

Blogging: 2-3 hours

So far, that’s 75-94 hours. That leaves 26-45 hours left for sleeping/dating/chatting whatever.

That means I could average over 9 hours of sleep, if I didn’t eat or study as much. Or date.

But lately, I’ve been averaging 5 hours of sleep during the week. I’m not going to starve. And I don’t think I can cut the studying, and I’ve already cut chatting down.

So, yeah, somebody tell the cougar to give the boys some rest.

 

January 31, 2010

Sucky Sonnet Sunday

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I sit in a chair where my desk is strong
My mind turns its gears all the day long
This isn’t as smart as it seems to be
My mind needs focus, tied to this oak tree

I slump at this desk that keeps me stable
My heart is willing, but weak and unable
This isn’t as smart or elementary
Untether my heart, it longs to be free

I sit, I cry, I laugh, I stand, I breathe
One day I rejoice, and the next day I seethe
I want to be grounded to certainty
I need to fly high with nothing to see

The mind will always struggle with the heart
I’d cease to exist if they tore apart.

 

January 31, 2010

Preoccupation

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Thinking
about
you.

That is all.

I can’t stop.

 

January 29, 2010

From Early This Evening, Wilkinson Center Computer Lab

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Hey, are you from New York?

Um, yes?

I know you from somewhere…

Hey, yeah! You’re totally [a former seminary student]!

You were my seminary teacher!

Wow.

I have to go, but can I get your number?

Sure, it’s [my phone number]. How have you been?

Good! My ride is here -

Call me -

But I’ll call you.

Awesome.

***

Being here is still so incredibly surreal.

From Early This Evening, Wilkinson Center Computer Lab
 

January 27, 2010

Folks

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I’m fine. I go through little bouts of loneliness and self-pity, and it wasn’t nice of me to fall silent for a couple days on such a melancholy note. Things are looking up.

For those who provided advice and encouragement and support, thank you.

I’ve been offered a job where I can work from home. It involves writing (yay!), but it limits me creatively somewhat (meh). But it’s cash flow, which is what I need.

Another company also extended another round of interviews for hiring in New York City, and I let them know where I am and declined the offer. She said she’d let me know if they’re looking for anyone to work from home.

These both happened on Monday, after I boo-hooed, and during the time many of you asked how I was doing, making sure I was okay. I do have to say that was the quickest hour of intense misery I’ve ever experienced.

Again, thank you.

Yesterday I went to the gym, and today I can not wash my hands without feeling the burn in all my major muscle groups.

I hope I recover quickly.

 

January 25, 2010

Hello?

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Could any of you who’s been through what I’m going through right now please speak up?

At least someone who’s had similar circumstances, felt similar feelings?

I just need someone who understands me. Somebody has to.

I’m starting to lose myself.

Would you please reach out?

 

January 24, 2010

Fast One

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I feel it first in my shoulders as the force forward pushes my torso backward. My hips, a fulcrum, slide with the rest of my body, and a slight but firm pressure molds my posture to the surface behind me.

It’s cold outside, and I’m wearing layers to compensate. My ungloved hands feel the soft leather. All the upholstery is perfectly detailed; it still smells new.

Time slows down when you’re going this fast. My haunches rest upon, reverberate with, absorb some of the vibration, the power, as we poke a tiny hole through space, nearing warp speed.

I gasp with the initial lurch. The thrust triggers a small, steady stream of adrenaline. My hands sweat, my eyes dilate. I begin to laugh.

The velocity feels as if it’s reached a magical resonance level; I’ve never felt my entire body hum this way.

I turn my head slowly. The mountains remain fixed, but barely. Everything else – closer, slower – is a blur.

I crane my neck to look. He tells me not to look, but I see enough of the needle moving further clockwise and am conscious enough of the local law, and I am well aware of his eyes on the road and my racing heart and my imagining the other cars shudder or their mouths drop open and lose their … transmissions completely, to realize I am having a great time. I can’t stop laughing.

He slows down, turns the car around, and we do it again.

It’s even better this time.

 

January 21, 2010

So We’re Still in the Poetry Unit

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And when the instructor begins the class by having us to listen to the Decemberists and Radiohead and Andrew Bird, I almost cry.

This is so cool.

School is great.

Lyrics to the songs whose names I caught below. How do the formal elements tie into their meanings?

“Fake Plastic Trees” – Radiohead

Her green plastic watering can
For her fake Chinese rubber plant
In the fake plastic earth
That she bought from a rubber man
In a town full of rubber plans
To get rid of itself

It wears her out, it wears her out
It wears her out, it wears her out

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns
He used to do surgery
For girls in the eighties
But gravity always wins

It wears him out, it wears him out
It wears him out, it wears him out

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love
But I can’t help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run

It wears me out, it wears me out
It wears me out, it wears me out

If I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted all the time

All the time…
All the time…

“Measuring Cups” – Andrew Bird

Get out your measuring cups and we’ll play a new game
Come to the front of the class and we’ll measure your brain
We’ll give you a complex and we’ll give it a name

Get out your measuring cups and we’ll play a new game
Can’t have the cream when the crop and the cream are the same
Liquid or gas no more than the glass will contain

When you talk about the hand of glory
A tale that’s rather grim and gory
Is it just another children’s story that’s been de-clawed?
When the tales of brothers Grimm and Gorey have been outlawed

I think they’re gonna make you start over
You don’t want to start over
Put your backpack on your shoulder
Be the good little soldier
Take your places now
‘Cause we’re all predisposed

Measuring cups, play a new game
Front of the class, measure your brain
Give you a complex and we’ll give it a name

When you talk about the hand of glory
A tale that’s rather grim and gory
Is it just another children’s story that’s been de-clawed?
When the tales of brothers Grimm and Gorey have been outlawed

Put your backpack on your shoulder
Be the good little soldier
It’s no different when your older
You’re predisposed
That’s all for questions now
The case is closed!

 

January 21, 2010

Tweaking My Sanity

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I do have homework. I promise I’m doing it.

 

January 20, 2010

Part of What Keeps Me Sane

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Thanks.

 

January 19, 2010

Created on 5/10/09

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I’m not even going to try explaining this here. Those involved know what it all means. This is just for old times’ sake. For the record, we didn’t do too much on this list, but we crossed off a lot on other lists.

I miss it. I’m doing what I can, but still.

 

January 19, 2010

Poetry

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things that are true expressed in words that are beautiful.
-Dante

the best words in the best order.
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge

the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.
-William Wordsworth

emotion put into measure.
-Thomas Hardy

a way of remembering what it would impoverish us to forget.
-Robert Frost

a revelation in words by means of the words.
-Wallace Stevens

Poetry is prose bewitched.
-Mina Loy

the clear expression of mixed feelings.
-W.H. Auden

an angel with a gun in its hand…
-José Garcia Villa

the language in which man explores his own amazement.
-Christopher Fry

hundreds of things coming together at the right moment.
-Elizabeth Bishop

Poetry is sound art.
-Joy Harjo

Reduced to the simplest and most essential form, the poem is a song. Song is neither discourse nor explanation.
-Octavio Paz

Poetry is always the cat concert under the window of the room in which the official version of reality is being written.
-Charles Simic

A poem should not mean
But be.
-Archibald MacLeish, “Ars Poetica”

So maybe now you know what we’re studying in my Literary Interpretation class. Exciting. And pretty scary.

 

January 17, 2010

Part of Yesterday

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The following is a text message conversation that recaps a lighter side of my yesterday. Yesterday was a lot to handle. Paragraph breaks distinguish between speakers. I can’t believe I thumb-tapped those responses on the number pad of my unsmart phone. I’m just bummed this friend is so sad. Life is so hard sometimes.

… Since you’re up. Let me ask. Was I a crappy listener?

You listened well. That was a lot of your appeal.

Mmm perhaps I’ve changed?

Possible. Don’t overanalyze. You also do that well.

Lol yes I do. I just can’t wrap my head around why she is so angry w me now. How it changed so fast and how everything is now my fault and I don’t hear her.

I surmise she’s really inside herself and not rational with her grief. It needs time. Don’t get sucked in.

Why does she get mad that I’m not letting go emotionally right now? [I]m a loyal person. I’m respecting boundries just haven’t totally fallen out of love.

Because it adds to her guilt.

Why does that make her mad and then she tells me to go on a date?

Just because she doesn’t want you doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt her or that she knows how to move on yet.

Why would she feel guilt?

Because you’re hurt. There’s always guilt to some degree.

But she professes she wants her independence. She doesn’t like feeling caged?

She knows what she wants, sure, but getting there is different. And really tough after a breakup. You’ll both be in limbo a while.

I just don’t get it. I can’t accept it. It doesn’t make complete sense.

You’re not going to get it for a while. That’s normal. You’ll get through it.

How can the opinion of friends and society be worth more than love?

Hard, constant battle to fight. That’s just how some people see it.

I want to get angry and spiteful w her but I just can’t. I can’t be fake and pretend I don’t care.

Process it however you need to.

It is what it is. If others don’t get it f em. Who is anyone to judge? We are all human

Now you’re getting somewhere.

Sorry I went off. Just a hard day I guess.

Don’t be sorry. What you’re going through isn’t easy or simple.

Sigh yeah. Thanks for listening…Didn’t mean to overload you there.

I can take it. :)

Im sure.

 

January 15, 2010

Now the Important Stuff

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Just a few links to get you thinking about how you want to contribute to Haiti relief:

Six Ways Here

To A Specific Orphanage

LDS Church News Release and Link for Donations

And then my friend Ray also suggests not to “put contributions on credit cards. The moneygrubbing banks are still taking their “interchange” cuts on donations. Do it direct to an agency, through 100% donators like grocery stores (Wegmans is beginning their donate-any-amount today), or text the word “Haiti” to 90999 and get every penny to the Red Cross instead of funding some Citibank executive’s bonus.”

 

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