So Much For

Trying to get anything done more than three hours before deadline.

I'm just now thinking about starting an essay that needs to be sent in with this application to this summer program for young poets I probably won't get into anyway. They accept like ten students out of hundreds, or something like that.

I looked at my blog feed just before I intended on starting working on the essay and got distracted by one of dooce's headings and had to go read her blog for a bit.

But, you know, this time I'm not gritting my teeth uttering curse words at myself because I'm so awful at actually getting anything done when I want to.

I'm an incredible perfectionist. Hence, I can't do anything ahead of time, because I'm scared out of my mind. I don't know what to write, and nothing sounds right, and I just get so upset I stop. This is what happened last night with Chase at a cafe in Holland. I started writing the essay, the first sentence, and couldn't think of the right word order, and just got so pissed off, I folded my arms and proceeded to see who was on facebook chat.

Luckily, I called my friend Paula later that night and told her my first line and ideas to flesh out the rest of it and she did what she always does, she said, "Michelle, did you just hear yourself. that sounds amazing. Oh my god, it sounds so intelligent and creative. I think it's perfect." This is why I don't think I'll ever be able to live without her. And really, I don't think she's just saying this stuff. I actually believe that she believes in me. And I can always use more of that. Who couldn't, I guess?

Anyway, here's to returning again to this application. Happy sunny snowy afternoon to all of you nearby!

Too Much Coffee

You must drop everything right now and go to dooce.com. Funniest blog I've ever read. Love it. Look up the post, The Paper Anniversary. Hilarious.

God...I've already downed three cups of coffee...mixed with hot chocolate and french vanilla creamer. And I've read two students' stories. One of which is making me batty and pretty pissed off. I hate vague stories. Because they're not really stories. They're journal entries, or my old blog posts (and some of my new ones), or poems from the tenth century.

I feel bad about being so mean and judgemental but really. This story is killing me. And I can't help but write "Why? WHY?" all down the margins.

I won't tell you what it's about or anything, not so much because this person might one day stumble upon my blog, but because it would make me so much meaner. It's like writing someone's embarrassing secrets on your blog--not cool.

Since I can't think of anything else to write about at the moment, I'll not write anything at all. Then I'll stay out of trouble.

Young and Old As I Am

Last night:

Reading a book on journaling. Soft fan sound buzz--
Oh, and Bon Iver's new "Blood Bank" thrilling my ears,
Sweeping deeply even into my bones. I love this band.
And this book. Oh, and this new freedom feeling coursing:
This sudden rush of I am not tied down.

I hope I never will be. I want to share, deeply, I want to
connect forever, but never get stuck in one place...in one old
idea, or in a feeling of being old and finished.

These are the nights I want to remember. The nights of being as
young and old as I am--of wriggling in my covers listening to
every sound--every creaking and even the fuzz of television
noise in the next room--feeling serene and blissed simultaneously--
Knowing I will share. I am sharing. Cheers.

Africam and Endless Possibilities

I don't know why, but this morning I remembered the africam website and went there, and now I am watching a solitary pond in the Nhorko Pan, whatever that is, listening to bird noises. I have a cousin who plays this camera all the time in the background of her life, her five year old son and her waiting for something amazing to creep into the camera lens. One time, I guess a hippo came on, and she called all of her friends, and they were so excited, and all tuned in. I thought that was sweet. I've never been much of an animal person, though lately I feel more and more a pull toward them, an affection for them.

Anyway, the africam made me realize again that there is so much I haven't seen or experienced, and so much I'm dying to see or experience in the next ten years of my life.

Here's the list!

1. A humpback whale from a boat in the ocean--I feel like if I saw this I would have no reason to ever feel depressed. The world would be miraculous, absolutely.
2. A giant cactus in the desert
3. An alligator sunning by the side of the road in Florida
4. A pelican diving--a woman at my office told me I should see this when I told her I was applying to University of Florida. Then we googled it and it's beautiful.
5. An ashram, or monastery on a hillside
6. Riding a motorcycle
7. Riding a motorcycle in Europe
8. Mountains with snow at the tops
9. Ancient trees that are wider than my car at the bases
10. Ancient ruins
11. palm trees
12. Old women in Italy pushing food at me the way my "mother" in Romania did when I stayed there.
13. Sitting just outside of a group of people speaking another language I couldn't hope to understand, in another country. Just experiencing this bliss at their incredible different-ness from me. Getting lost in all the sounds and voices, the inflexions and all that, without comprehending or even trying to comprehend.
12. New York City
13. the ocean--I've already seen it from a plane...but I want to touch it, to learn what saltwater feels like...to be terrified of jellyfish, but standing in the water anyway. :)
14. Jellyfish
15. A Sabrina Ward Harrison art show at some small beach in San Fransisco--I know she's held them on small beaches before.

I can't think of anything else at the moment. It's nice because though I get stressed out and so forth, when I think of new things I'll see and experience, new people I can meet and share with, new conversations, I am able to pull myself temporarily from the stale, frightening, tense life that I am living at the moment. I am reminded that this is not the end of my life. That there are still possibilities. That there are always possibilities. And though some of them require money that I don't have, and security that I don't have, someday I may get there. I'll try for it.

I feel like it must be warmer out today. I don't know why, and I know that it's not true. It's nice to remember that it will be sunny again, that I will have a Nouwen beach day with Chase again, and a long walk with Paula down my road where the corn fields start, and the sky is beautiful and wide, and a nice talk with Andrew by the side of the Grand River, underneath a bridge, where the flies are buzzing for the orange light, and the fish are leaping softly.

Winter always reminds me that things change. That it will not be this cold and dark and tense forever.

Connecting

I've been reading in Sabrina Ward Harrison's Brave on the Rocks. She writes in the corner of a page about a "big moon walk with Dad." Something in my stomach lunged forward--that inner palm again stretching for a moment like that.

I wish I could revel in sharing a "moon walk" with just myself like I used to. I used to be so good at feeling great on my own. Lately, I'm tired of not having some intimate someone to feel the big magic world stuff with--the stars, the winter trees weighted, the unkempt lawns, the bundling and savoring of the cool beach.

I feel so connected to these images, the sharing, that I almost feel like I miss them.

I've started listening to Patty Griffin for the first time in a long long time and I forgot how much her songs moved me to feel really deep things. It's nice. By going deeper, I feel like I'm connecting with a part of myself I have left behind lately while I've been rushing around, doing and going nonstop.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep and the caffeine wearing off that's suddenly settling me into this calm introspective state. I feel like painting. I feel like a nap. Too bad there's no sun. I'd like to take an afternoon nap with the sun laying a soft hand through my window, across my bed.



I miss the summer months.

Subversive Acts

Good morning to the one person who reads this blog. :)

Today is bright. I wonder if the snow is melting outside, it must be, the sun coming on so strong. The truth is, this place is held fast in single digit temperatures. I'm listening to Ani DiFranco for the first time in a very long time, and it is so good. Right now I'm listening to "Reckoning."

Cause nothing is as it appears.
In the fun house mirrors of your fears
On a roller coaster of all these years with your hands above your head.
And win or lose, just that we chose, this little war is what kills us.
And either or it's that this war is, maybe also what thrills us.

It's funny how you can find one thing wrong, and then it spider veins out to all these dark pits of hopeless other things. I feel old. At twenty-three I feel old. I know it's ridiculous. But it feels like I've lost my chance at things. Because I'm so distant and scared I'm not getting anywhere. But,I don't know how to get out of this box. I want to connect. I want to share, of all things. I want that kind of deep sharing where you're laughing with someone, and the laughter just gets so mixed up, you forget that you are two separate people, you forget what they may think about the zits on your face, your half-curly hair, your big cheeks, and you just join them in the moment. I want that. I want that in friendship and in love. I need to forget about myself. I need to stop worrying about myself, and just trust this process--this life process--whatever it is, and wherever it leads.

I'm working on it. I've been pretty good lately. I've really enjoyed moments. I think it's just this last semester of school, applying to graduate programs, the cold and gray, family stuff, that's got me so caught up around my own concerns and pain and wonderings, that I haven't been able to just rush out and mingle with the people that I love, or that I want to get to know.

Today is my day without classes and work, and one of my closest friends is home from his school, so we're going to spend the hours in our favorite cafes, and then probably watch some good film. I'm excited. I have to finish a grad. school application first, and I'll probably work at the cafes. But, it's alright. It's all alright, and will be.

Hope, hope, hope. I need it.

Anne Lamott once wrote, "Rest and laughter are the most spiritual and subversive acts of all. Laugh, rest, slow down...just be where your butts are, and breathe. Take some time."

New Legs

Funny how last night I was listening to Brandi Carlile doing yoga, meditating, feeling pretty overwhelmed with this lucky spark in my chest.

It's just this night that's got me feeling lonely. And it will be over soon.

I know it'll all be alright. Over the past couple of years, I've grown some new legs to climb out of these low places.