2 minutes to spare!

My art center professor just said.
I'm going to go get my assignment back now. I wonder what i got...
9/10. not too bad. Maybe i can re-do.

Last night i dreamt...

This morning is the first morning in a long time that i can remember enough of a dream to write it down. Last night i had a bunch of dreams. One was intensely terrifying, another one was wacked-out...this one was just...hmmm.

I don't remember if there was anything that led up to this, but all i know is that suddenly i was in Andrew's USC apartment...except it was Sarah and my's bedroom; and it was bigger; and there were art supplies and little weird watercolor paintings everywhere. The paintings were of simple figures, dancing on muted backgrounds with slashes of paint strategically disrupting the mellow colors. As i fiddled around the room, I tried to write some music on a program on his computer that, very strangely, featured Homestar characters as the program hosts or mascots or whatever. Maybe because Sarah was looking at Strongbad e-mails last night...
Anyway, for some reason or another, i went over to the sink (yes, in my dream there was a sink in the room). It was extremely dirty with paint and shavings and the like, and i searched the small shelf above it where i saw one of those paintings of a girl in a long dress twirling against a soft rusty orange background with streaks of olive green splashed onto it. Next to the painting there was a flyer, i'm assuming, for one of those AGO get-togethers. The only part of the flyer i can remember is a small section where, for some reason, someone had written some Morrissey lyrics. Not real ones, of course, my brain made them up. It was remembering the lyrics when i woke up that made me remember the dream. I can't even remember all of them. I only recall one section of the lines, and so it's a bit out of context, i'm sure; but here they are:
Will Jesus be there?
I've lost another Jewish Ramone.

I reeeeally wish i could remember the rest. Anyway, that's all. I thought people would find it at least a little bit interesting.

"I wonder what it would be like to be that pretty?"

Sarah asked out loud, and held up a picture of a model/actress in the new issue of a magazine i recieve.
I only needed a moment to glance at it, as i'd already flipped through the pages and had already examined the article she was referring to. Yea, she was a beautiful model. Nice skin, nice hair, skinny, toned, blah blah blah...
And in all truthfulness, i have a weakness for my sister's unique beauty. Sorry, but i'm a very biased critic. Frankly, i was surprised she even posed the question/statement to me, because part of me finds it hard to believe that she thought i would actually agree with her and say something like "oh yea, i know. she's much prettier than you." I could see what was coming, i'd seen it a thousand times.
So after about 2 or 3 seconds i said, in all honesty, "I think you're that pretty."
I.....guess that was the wrong thing to say. And so ensued one of the more pointless, frustrating and superficial arguments i have had to date with my sister. And that's saying something.
I guess it just bothers me that she's so caught up with obsessing over something that she need not...because she's amazingly beautiful. I tried to explain to her that if she was stood next to that girl in a room full of people not 99% would choose the other girl as being the prettier one (as she said would happen). I tried to explain to her that there is no such thing as a girl whom *everyone* is attracted to. That she was freaking me out because of how determined she was to get me to "understand" her (aka agree wih her).
My sister's complaining about her looks is about the equivalent, to me, of...say if my parents were always complaining about what terrible artists they are. All i would do is look at what i had and say, "crap, nothing i have is as good as theirs, and if they despise what they have, what does that make what i've got?"
Maybe my own feelings are what are twisted. I dunno. It just makes me sad.

It was late. Everyone else had left at least an hour, or two, or three ago. They were tired, and there are only so many times you can listen to "Surfer Rosa" on Vinyl. What was there to do? She knew she had to do something. Her mind seemed to reel for ages that went by in a split second. Sofia was never one to play tricks on people. But there was something about the way he suddenly looked at her that forced her to do the first thing that jumped into her mind. So she pulled him forward and kissed him. As she began to relax she closed her eyes; and that was when he pushed her away.

He knew that she was impulsive, but so far the worst she had done to him was merely knocking hot coffee into his lap (on purpose of course), or a swift punch in his gut. She even popped one of his tires with the heel of her shoe once when he refused to come with her to a show at the Knitting Factory. Even then, they could laugh it off and all would be well. She never apologized...she didn't have to. If she did, her actions would have meant something. They never had...

This was different, however, as laughter seemed to be cruel, yet anger was useless and words were empty...embarassment replaced all of these and filled them up in places where even an awkward understanding would have done some good. Despite all this, their eyes remained locked onto each other's, and it seemed like forever until the silence was broken by Sofia's quiet murmur of "I'm sorry".

Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!

i'm such a geek.
http://www.lordoftherings.net/index_400_hv_home.html
so exciting. ringer party, anyone?

i'm most excited about this, though...
http://www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/catalog/titledetail.cfm?titleNumber=689507

there! i'm finished! so sorry to subject you to that.

They wanted to hear that Sound

As always, i've been thinking a lot about music lately.
Music is something that defines me, in a lot of ways. Perhaps that is why i'm so very particular about it. I only listen to artists that are consisnent in their production of good, solid, meaningful music. I'm highly skeptical and grossly snobbish about one-hit wonders and superficial lyrics. A good record, to me, is one that i can listen to all the way through without skipping a bunch of the songs. Perhaps i've missed out on some "pretty good stuff."
I'll live.
I'm one of the last people on earth who shout spout off on a pretentious speel about what music is worthwhile and what isn't...so i think i'll just end that segment there.

Collecting songs for a theme CD is an art i am relatively new to...and growing more and more obsessed with. I recently burned a mix of songs for my sister to listen to while she takes her naps. I picked songs from a variety of artists like Radiohead (of course), Sigur Ros, Nico, Smashing Pumpkins, some Enya (we grew up with it), some old Foo Fighters, Death in Vegas...and a few others. I will say, it was most enjoyable. I don't even have to be napping to listen no it! ha ha!

A CD in progress is one i'm working on as a "soundtrack" to a screenplay/film in my crazy head. What's interesting...and a bit strange is how the songs are turning into somewhat of a soundtrack to what my own emotional and mental state is at the moment. Very curious. Searching for the perfect songs for this is much more challenging, and more rewarding. So far, at least, as i've got about 6 or 7 songs that i would have never otherwise grouped together but for this very idea i have...and it's turning into quite an awesome mix! As you can see, i'm very excited about it. When it's done (if that day ever comes), perhaps i'll post it here.
Oder, viellecht nicht...
One thing i like about the latter CD "Project", is that it's making me branch out a bit more, get a bit braver...and it's been both a surprisingly plesant, yet at times disappointing journey.
Don't you hate it when you go out on a limb and buy a CD and it turns out to be not nearly as good as you hoped? And then you swear to yourself that "never again will i take a chance on something i'm unsure of and therefore depreive myself of a CD that i know i would have enjoyed"!!!
On the other hand, don't you love it when you buy a new CD, or discover a new band, and not only is is good...it's amazing. It's different, it's inspiring, and you feel so proud of yourself!
I'm still on a bit of a high after the last couple of show's i've been to; a Sufjan Stevens show, and on Friday, some friends and i went and saw Br Danielson and Half-Handed Cloud. Two extremely refreshing and lovely shows, for a number of reasons i may discuss later. Needless to say, it's been so...well...fun to discover new musical artists to enjoy!
It gives me a bit of hope that there are still other groups out there to discover, or even ones i know about, yet haven't "Gotten into". And i look forward to that.

I'm not even sure why i wrote this...it's just nice to clear some stuff out of my head and leave room for "more important" things i should be thinking about. Psssshhhh. whatever.
ha ha ha
Also, it's a nice break from the theme i've seen developing in my recent 10 posts or so.
I just read back over this...and it's hilarious how pretentious i actually did end up sounding. Pretty silly too. oh well. i'm slowly learning not to take myself too seriously...
On that note, please don't take me too seriously. i'm weird.
Gots to go to work.
Tschuss!

This Morning

White noise hushes footsteps
Dim light summons drowsiness
As quietly i creep along pristine boards
past pink and scarlett rosebuds
A silent breath comes through the open windows
billowing the curtains
chilly and exciting
Sunlight splashes on the pure white comforter
cutting the cool darkness
a strip of light across her face
upon her red gold greying hair
stirring in the soundless flow
She sleeps so soundly
Breathes so deeply
Curled so tightly
she's a little girl again
Were she my own child i might stroke her face
and kiss her temple
as she did to me
And yet i stay my hand
to wake her would be cruel
and so i steal away
swallowing tears
chasteining my fears and doubting
I am not a little girl
i can't always be this way
I will always be this way
While there's ever life in me
I'll be so glad she's home
I am so glad she's home.

And Now...

Pearls of Wisdom from Dr. and Mrs. Kieffer!!!

-Deuce Bigalo Male Gigolo is a horrible movie...but it's fascinating!

-The best place to buy a new bed is from your favorite hotel.

-Pip sounds like a very shady character.

-The louder the TV is, the louder you can yell at each other!!!

-The more magazines you can subscribe to, the better.

-Oprah is just the neatest lady!

-"If it's not one thing, it's the same thing."
~Grandpa

Until next time...take care of yourselves, folks and heed the words of your elders!

Celestial Snow

I'd like to take this moment just
to bring to light a little plight;
Perhaps one can gain some insight
from a quite familiar fight,
that we all go through...one we must.


"I've grown up with so much truth, wisdom, and grace that if I were to ever get to a point where I couldn't recognize what real life is then I might as well hand over my salvation to the enemy. I've seen the power of the Lord at work in my own life and many others. I felt it, heard it, seen it! So why am I unable to carry on!? What's my reason for not being able to go out and achieve the responsibility for what Christ has called me to? I mean especially when life on this earth is nothing compared to eternity. Like I want to be the one who is on the outskirts! May that never be the case! Yet I still cannot get over this heavy weight... I don't know if it is because I haven't been willing to give it to the Lord, or i am not walking with the hope I should be walking in, or I see myself as insignificant so I just decide to stay that way, or I fear my own nature and man more than I fear the Lord. If the Lord could make snow fall from the sky right now and I could take that as a sign of the rapture then none of this would even matter. I guess I need more of His grace than I think I do. I don't know. Celestial snow would be pretty awesome though. Especially if it was purple to signify the Lord's royalty. Maybe I'm just a little too abstract."

~J-bi

There are times when i wish my dad could run smack into his own face.

I guess i should have sensed it in the air...

I was about to leave for work, in a bit of a hurry, and trying to take care of 3 things at once. Poor Beau had been inside all day every day for the last couple of weeks because of the heat, except to go to the bathroom or for the occasional frizbee toss. Not to mention the fact that grandpa seems to think that Beau can't be left alone outside for more than 5 minutes and is constantly calling him in. In the house he's always sure he's in the same room. If he can't see Beau he'll walk around calling him until he finds him, "Come on, Beau old boy, come over here."
Today was the first day it began to cool down, just a little bit, around 5 in the evening. Naturally, the dog should be outside...or so i thought.
And thus our fateful tale begins...

As she ran towards the front door, bags and younger sister in tow, she realized that the dog was still inside the stuffy smelly house. Loyally lying on the floor next to grandpa's chair, Colleen called him to get up. In a hurried voice she said,
"You know what? I'm going to put Beau out because he's not out enough and it's really nice outside."
As if someone had suggested giving him a lobotomy, her grandpa whipped around in his chair and waved his hand at her.
"No no no! He's fine leave him alone!"
"Grandpa he needs to be out more, he's inside way too much--"
Pointing at her with such force that his whole body lurched with his arm, he exclaimed, "NO NO NO! You leave him here!! I can take care of him God damn it!"
Not willing to give in she continued amidst his cries to the back door, "He needs to be out, grandpa, he's been hanging around the door all day," and she put Beau outside.
"How dare...DON"T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!!!" He stuttered. " Jesus, that girl really get's on my nerves...!"
Fuming, yet refusing for once to engage, she called to him, "Well, you can be happy then because you'll be rid of me. I'm leaving." And she walked out of the kitchen.
Still seated, red-faced in his chair, he snapped as she walked past him, "GOOD! I'm GLAD to get rid of you when you act like that!!!"
He continued to yell as she approached the door, drowning out his wife's cries of protest.
Shaking, she opened it, let Sarah out and called to him, "Thank you grandpa, I love you."
"SHUT UP!!!!!"
And she closed the door behind her.

Lover's Spat

He heaved a weary sigh as he dropped himself into his chair at the dining room table. It was so hot outside and yet he was chilly enough in the house to be wearing a sweater; a result of the peculiar preferences of his obstinate son-in-law and ungrateful grandchildren. His wife sat just around the corner at the table next to him, still wearing her apron from breakfast 3 hours ago. As he looked searchingly around the surface before him, his weak eyes percieved a mess of piles and clutter that instantly frustrated him.
"What is all this, Mary?"
"Bills, John," she answered him absentmindedly. Her hand was shaking so terribly that she could hardly hold the envelope she was trying to open.
"What?"
"Bills, John, bills!" She said forcefully. "I've been going throught them all morning!"
"Well it's about time someone did," he grunted, shuffling papers all over the table. "There's too much stuff here all the time. Look at all this stuff!"
"Oh, John stop it you're messing up everything."
"I am not---What are you going to do with all this??"
"I'm trying to take care of it so Carol doesn't have to when she comes back."
"Why?"
"John, she's so busy! She has work, and she's been gone, and she'll have so much to do when she gets home..."
"But why are you doing it?"
"Because she's going to have all this to take care of when she get's back, along with everything else she has to do-"
"Well that's her problem."
"Yes, I suppose it is. I'm just trying to get it done for her."
He sighed. "Why?"
"Because, John, she's been gone for so long, and she'll be so tired-"
"I just don't see why you're doing this."
"I'm just trying to help. I used to do all of this for you when I could. I did all the secretarial work."
"And she had to go and take off..."
"John, she's working!! She works so hard, and she's going to have jet lag; horrible jet lag. I don't think you have any idea what that's like!"
He sighed again. "Oh nuts. Nuts to everyone."
"John stop it. Say something nice, will you?"
There was a pause. "I am nice," He replied. "All this crap. Look at all this crap!!!" And he began to rustle through the piles again.
"John, John...!" She exclaimed in a little half-laugh. As he began to chuckle, she regained herself and said sarcastically, "Ha ha."
"Ho ho ho," he said in a monotone voice. "Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum."
"Oh you're so funny."
He sat back with a grimace.
"I just don't know why you have to do anything about it."
"I don't, she just has so much to do."
"Then she shouldn't have gone off to Sydney!"
"But--John--she had to...!" She could hardly contain her agitation. "Damn it, John--John you're a fool right now, a fool!" Her petite frame trembled with pent-up frustration.
He merely gazed around the room. "You're not very nice to me, Mary," he said. "Not very nice at all."

~~~

" ...'You need not doubt that I would open my arms to recieve--to absorb--to assimilate this young man.'

They were now sitting so close together that their faces almost touched, as if they had been lovers about to kiss. Frost's pince-nez caught the light so that they made his eyes invisible: only his mouth, smiling but not relaxed in the smile, revealed his expression. Wither's mouth was open, the lower lip hanging down, his eyes wet, his whole body hunched and collapsed in his chair as if the strength had gone out of it. A stranger would have thought he had been drinking. Then his shoulders twitched and gradually he began to laugh. And Frost did not laugh, but his smile grew moment by moment brighter and also colder, and he stretched out his hand and patted his colleague on the shoulder. Suddenly in that silent room there was a crash. Who's Who had fallen off the table, swept onto the floor as, with sudden swift convulsive movement, the two old men lurched forward towards each other and sat swaying to and fro, locked in an embrace from which each seemed to be struggling to escape. And as they swayed and scrabbled with hand and nail, there arose, shrill and faint at first, but then louder and louder, a cackling noise that seemed in the end to be rather an animal than a senile parody of laughter..."

~That Hideous Strength

When is that poor dog having his manhood removed?

Asked my grandpa, not 30 seconds ago to me, for the 3rd time or so...
...Monday, i said. He's got another weekend left.
Oh.

It's funny, irritating, disturbing, and fascinating what a roller coaster my emotions and outlook have been the last 2 weeks. I've felt like a victor, i've felt like a victim, i've been excited, i've been desperate, i've felt lonely, i've felt like a jerk...
How do i feel right now? at this very moment? I'm currently in my neutral state of seeming indifference. Fighting oncoming fatigue, attempting to ignore my surroundings, wishing everything was different, and suppressing the temptation to scream at the top of my lungs. It's everything i shouldn't be feeling, and i know that. I just can't help it when i'm here at this house.
Yea. It's a terrible place to be. And i'm extremely frustrated.

I took away the comment option on this post because i'm just venting and i don't want anyone to feel like i'm looking for sympathy or a pat on the back. There are people who may want to know how i'm "doing" and this can be my way of letting them know with out my having to talk about it. My friends probably know how very little i enjoy talking about my problems and what not. Plus i find writing so much easier. Talking freaks me out sometimes.
Sooo, when there's no comment box, you know why! Wow!

Grandpa just gave an extra resounding primal sneeze scream. Impressive i could hear it all the way back here, with the door closed and the workmen pounding right outside it! We're getting hardwood floors put in.
It's going to smell so much better back here.

Hi Dear Girl-

I'm so sorry things are so frantic- Breathe...take one thing at a time.
Have you tried calling Anthony yet?
I'm praying for you and the rest ALOT. i wrote down my prayers for all of you this morning at breakfast....All of my prayers for you seemed to cover the stuff you are struggling with. You can't solve everything...or sometimes anything (You know me, I'm always the "fixit" person) The Lord is always faithful to put us in a position that we can't deal with in the flesh.
Let go of Sarah, G & G, and let the Lord have the strength... not you- Let G & G be left to themselves when you need to...We'rre just going to have to get extra help, or they've got to be left to their own devices (Much easier said than done!)

Beau, my baby boy...boo hoo :( Please love him up for me- I miss him too!

It's hard for me to spend alot of time typing, I'm so slow at it , and there are so many demands here at the studio.

I Love You Tons
xxoo Mom

Dear Mom

I decided to post this e mail i wrote to my mom this morning...

Well, if you ever feel at all unloved or not missed (which, of course, would be absurd), just think of good 'ol Beau. Mom, he is so pathetic without you here! He's always sitting with his head rested on your bed, wandering around looking for you...dad says that last night he just jumped onto your bed and layed there, looking depressed. Poor guy. ):

Sarah and I are really bummed because Our Art Center classes aren't held on the main campus! I was so excited that we were going to get to go to Art Center right by our house...but instead we're going to have to drive all the way down to the South of Raymond by the 110 freeway every week. I'm really not happy about that. Mom...school is going to drive me crazy this semester. I'm taking so many cool classes...but that's the problem in itself. I'm taking too many classes, all of which i want to do really well in and i can't see how I'm going to. I already have so much homework to do and i'm so distracted by everything going on around here; with g&g, trying to sort out their medication fiascos, making them meals, keeping an eye on grandma making sure she doesn't faint again, having to figure out who will be here at any given time, jumping up at the sound of grandpa's yelling, trying to keep this stupid room in order (which is like a full-time job in itself); Sarah and i are fighting more and more, my eating habits are slipping again, and i'm stuck in this mental limbo trying to be "content" and not complain, and feeling like i'm going to explode every time i tell people i'm fine, and that living here is just "a laugh a minute!". Because i want to be joyful in my situation and i want to overcome my mental blocks i slam into when i get stressed out, but i just don't feel like i can and it's scaring me to death...because if there's any time i need to do it, it's now.
Why can't one thing happen at a time? Then maybe i could handle it...i don't know.
I'm sorry for unloading on you. I just didn't know what else to say. As much as i wish it otherwise, this is really all that's occupying my mind these days, aside from the worrying about where my life is going, and what the heck i'm going to do with myself next year. But that's besides the point :
I guess things can't always be peaceful, but i can still find peace. i feel so strange typing that because it's such an unreal concept to me. I wish i'd stop getting so caught up in myself.

Grandpa is arguing with grandma right now about...water. He wants her to drink the tap water. she doesn't want to she wants to drink the drinking water. But the tap water is just as good but she wants the drinking water "oh why don't you stop complaining???" Dad just went out there...
Sarah is telling me how much grandpa drives her nuts

But what i said in the long, rambling paragraph still stands, unfortunately, for the time being. I don't know what's worse...not knowing how to make something better, or knowing how, but feeling so incapable of doing it...?

Feel blessed you are away and taking a break in in a new, beautiful place! I told Pip's mom you were in Sydney and she knew it would be lovely there right now. I'm so glad you don't have to be here, as much as we all miss you...which is one of the reasons i feel bad about telling you all this. I hope you're having a wonderful time. I wish i could have talked to you for more than a few minutes on the phone! Tell me how the job is going, and what kinds of interesting things you've gotten into.
I love you...
love, colleen(:

A lost child...

He just wanders, knowing what he's looking for, yet knowing he can't find it. He drives himself crazy, he makes himself nervous. He's too hot, he's too cold, am i too cold? Are you sure? He's weary, he's confused...Why does he keep walking around? He can't stand up. He can't remember anything, after two minutes on the phone he doesn't know who he's talking to. Is Nena here? Am i here? He keeps calling me to make sure i'm there. Please don't fall again! He asks me over and over when she's coming home. And yet again, when he forgets. Now what exactly happened? tell me again...again...again...She'll be okay!

I'm just trying not to think about how tired i am.
One really gets on a role when they're discontent and given free space and time to express themselves, no?
I'm sorry these posts are so dismal! I hate writing when i'm upset.