little victories

this time, i'll be sailing
no more bailing boats for me
i'll be out there on the sea
just my confidence and me

and i'll be awful sometimes
weakened to my knees
but i'll learn to get by
on little victories

this time, i'll have no fear
i'll be standing strong and tall
turn my back towards them all

and i'll be awful sometimes
weakened to my knees
and i'll learn to get by
on the little victories
and if the world decides to catch up with me
it's a little victory

[matt nathanson]

i feel like this song could come across as such a passive-aggressive communication, but it's not meant to be. it is simply this - that i've had this song stuck in my head today so far and i think parts of it are fairly accurate regarding where i am in my life. and it's beautiful. as per the usual with matt nathanson.

in other news, bridgette's coming today! i am so ready.

g'day.

loaded questions, the board game

it was fun.

"how long does it take you to go to the bathroom, on average?"
(we all write down our answers and pass them in)
"ok. the first one says . . . it's flatulates. fajita day!"
"wait. ben. that says fluctuate."
"oh."

and then, aunt wendy burst into a fit of laughter that lasted for a good ten minutes, causing the rest of us to laugh until we cried because she was still bent over in the corner wiping her eyes after the next turn.

oh my.

anyway. my skin is all post-bath loveliness, i have one of my favorite old crumplysoft t-shirts on and i think it's time i attempted to describe what it feels like to be home. or rather what it feels like to be home at this particular moment, because it depends. but. it is two o'clock in the morning and that is when my best communication happens. also, i slept in the car all day, and therefore am not very tired.

usually car rides are a wonderful time to stop and think about my life and day dream, staring out the window with my music of the day blaring in my ears. i find that i've had a lot of time to think for the past three months, however, and i think i'm tired of thinking. not to say that i'm planning on stopping anytime soon, i just need to think outward, if that makes sense. i need to interact and screw up and then go think on my own. i need my thinking to be an exploration of a response to someone or something, as opposed to an exposition of some dark corner of my soul. not that those two don't go together, in fact, they should go together - the response leads to the dark corner because it is a reflection of it, but i've been so introspective that i've stopped responding to people, sometimes. not to mention that self-examination gets very tiring after a bit, and i've never been good with self-motivation anyway.

i'm just a little stale. it's like writer's block for soul-searching. sometimes you just can't. slash don't want to.

i've spent plenty of quality time with myself and it's time for some outside input. which translates into me being the most ready to go back to school that i've ever been, though i am glad i've had an adjustment period at home before i do - i think that school right after england would have led to a dive into carelessness, to be honest. a daisy-like carelessness, a distraction carelessness. not that i haven't started to fall into that at home anyway, but the level of recklessness would have been greater at school, i think. with recklessness referring to my disregard of conviction. my unwillingness to identify my weaknesses. it's like a blindness to them, really, like i just can't see them - i block them out.

aw. too bad. i guess i'll have to be smug for a little while.

which i hate, honestly honestly i hate it when i get to this part. although being arrogant is quite lovely in its own ego fluffing sort of way. i would be lying if i said i didn't enjoy it just as i hate it.

it's funny, typing about this, because i didn't realize that it was bothering me. apparently it is, depending on one's opinion of the importance of the subconscious. i haven't decided how exactly i feel about it: telling, but fairly easy to overcome, i've found. well, i should say fairly easy to muddle up en route to its expression, which makes it's communication unreliable, and potentially inaccurate.

there's a tangent for you.

i'm tired now.

um, in conclusion, that's what it feels like to be home?

ha. this will be a many-part description. and totally disjointed on first examination. but such is life. and my thought processes on it. it all connects somehow, i promise.

good mornin'.

playing with bookmarks

ok. i've finally discovered my bookmark tool bar. this is exciting for me, but i couldn't get the icons to show beside the names of the sites, and so i was very frustrated. but now, i've figured it out, and my tool bar is as pretty as it should be. i had to arrange them by color and shape. i think i have a very distinctly artistic/visual-type ocd. maybe i'm just eccentric. i think that's how i would define eccentricity, anyway. depending on the understanding of ocd - if we're going with the socially used and accepted one, then yes. if we're talking the scientifically researched one, then no. they are different. one's a quirk, the other is a disorder.

another quirk? i hate real bookmarks. and i hate dog-earing pages. sometimes i use bobby pins. sometimes i just remember the page. i like index cards. they're better than bookmarks-by-name for some reason. maybe because they fit inside the book and don't stick out the top. egh. the tassles are the worst.

anyway. i'm full of adrenaline that was designed to be used on brain power for my exam, but i definitely didn't need it; it was one question. one question on memory as an exam for an entire course worth of lecture. and we were able to choose between two of them! why didn't i come to england for my entire uni career? but i am glad i haven't. think of how easy my masters will be. that is, if i get my masters. plans are becoming more hazy as i get closer to them, i think that may be a little backwards.

the point is that i have jittery things coursing through me, but i want to sleep. i need to sleep, but i'm not sure i can. so here i am : ), typing absolute nonsense and admiring my new (pretty) bookmark tool bar.

i'm going to make sweet potato soup for lunch today.

that's all.

portrait of a town

i wake up to my phone vibrating and the british woman's voice; "it's eleven thuhty. it's time to wake ohp. it's eleven thuhty. it's time to wa-" i stand over my desk holding my phone in wonder. i actually got up without turning my alarm off in my sleep! from now on, i will be putting my phone on my desk instead of beside my bed every morning. and by "from now on," i mean "until friday, when i leave." talk about strong closure. classical films have got nothing on my life right now.

after stretching to pull the pamphlet of bus times off the shelf, i slump onto the bed with my legs pulled up beside me, still half-asleep, and figure out how quickly i need to shower to catch a bus into town. 12:48. eh, no problem. i've even got time to make myself a cup of tea and wake up for a bit before i get clean and dressed.

kate comes into the kitchen as the water in the kettle starts to boil; we chat about how wonderful reading for pleasure is, and how lovely it is to have time to be informed about the world, and she makes herself an omelet. she has a very particular way of cooking; her shoulders hunch and she bends over the cutting board or mixing bowl, she walks quickly and intensely from the fridge to her cupboard and back to the section of counter she's cleaned off. she only breaks her focus to respond to my conversation, often pushing her glasses a little farther up on her nose as she does. she never cooks and talks at the same time, and everything she makes looks like it's come out of healthy living. she's a vegetarian.

after finishing my tea, i walk back to my room, and run into chris. not surprising, since he lives in the room directly across from mine.

"hey, do you have a non-yellow highlighter i can borrow?"
"yes? it's pink, and running out of ink, i think, but you're welcome to it"
"thanks"
"yep"

i close my door, glad for the peace offering, and get ready for my shower.

after getting dressed and collecting my books and laptop on my desk, i transfer the pile into my book-bag and grab two pounds to stick in my jacket pocket for the bus ride.

i get to the castle gift shop, realize that there is no one else there except the employees, shake it off and go ask the man in a uniform for a ticket to the tour.

"four pounds, please"
"yeah, here you go"
"alright then, you're the only one on the tour right now, but we'll start off in about two minutes"
"ok, thanks."

i leaf through the coat-of-arms magnets in the middle of the shop, wishing that my family had such a history. i do see a "baker" magnet, but apparently my ancestors changed their name to baker after coming to the states, so i can't even claim it. it does look like my mom's family, though; a little stark, very classy, good, basic colors.

"right, we'll start now, as soon as this group comes through"
"thanks so much"
"now, you ask any questions you have, since there's only one of you - i can't really just talk to one person!"
"alright, i will"
"whereabouts are you from?"
"north carolina . . ."
"yeah?"
"mmhm"

so my personal tour of lancaster castle was spattered with comments like "do you have civil courts like that in the states?" and "you know about king george the third, don't you," with a knowing grin. it wasn't malicious, he was a wonderful tour guide, and we ended up having a lovely conversation about appalachain culture and bluegrass music in the barrister's library half-way through the tour.

then, i walked around town for a bit, exploring what's become my third home-place and realizing that i've learned my way around fairly well. i bought my secret santa present in woolworth's and the conditioner i needed in somerfield's, and then i set my sights on finding a place to study. all of the coffeeshops in town are closed on sundays, so i ended up in bella italia. the host tried to put me in the middle of the restaurant, but i asked for a seat by the window. i always hated it when customers did that at the boathouse, but i figured i was justified. it was 3 pm, the place was not crowded, and there were two other window tables open yet. anyway, for the next hour, the host, who was also my waiter, played like i was invisible. i didn't mind much while i was eating my pastry and looking over my psych notes, but once i was ready to go it started to ruffle my feathers just a bit. i finally had to flag down one of his fellow waitresses and get her to tell him to give me my check.

after that, which prompted a study on whether being a single woman makes a difference in situations like that, i searched for another place to settle in. i got a hot mint chocolate at costa, only to find out they were closing in ten minutes. what kind of coffeeshop closes at 5 in the evening? well, nevermind. i journaled there until they started locking the doors and then went to my only other option - mcdonalds.

now, the mcdonalds in lancaster is actually relatively nice, as far as furniture goes, so i bought an orange juice and sat down in one of the mod wingbacks in the window by the door, under the staircase. quiet, out of the way, nestled in a corner enough to satisfy my ocd-ness about sitting in the middle of a room. i like to have my back up against something when i'm working or in a restaurant, i don't know.

just then, a young girl and boy come exploding into my space - the girl runs smack into the high chair stacked under the stairs and proceeds to climb into it, after it's stopped bobbling from the impact. she's too old to be in a high chair though her hair, most of which is pulled back into a ponytail, still pokes out in ringlets around her face. it's the pale straw color that mine was when i was younger. the boy makes a verbal jab at her, and she fires back without hesitation. she's a pistol, my goodness.

finally, a skinny older man with straight, thick, scraggly gray hair comes around the corner with the first young boy and another. the three kids - two boys and the girl, must be his grandchildren, although he does look like a younger grandpa. maybe 60s.

"do yeh mind?"
"no, no, go for it"

he pulls one of the wingbacks at my table around to face the two boys, who've pulled up to a table a few feet away from the girl, who's still in the highchair. they all chatter away as i type on my laptop and then grandpa instructs the boys, "you stay hehre now, i'm gonna go feh a smoke" and heads outside, where he stakes out a bench facing the window, so he can keep tabs on them.

the girl is now scooting the highchair around the floor in her attempt to get out of it. i smile at her, amused. i don't help her - i wouldn't want her to go running off for her grandpa to go find. he comes back in, helps her out and comments "yeh too big feh these things, love."

the siblings tear around a bit more, catching my eye every once and awhile. i smile when they do - it's nice to be around kids again. i find a new sentence in my book that i can use and as i'm typing it out, i notice that the girl has saddled up to the side of the table and is peering around at my screen.

"it's an essay, for school"

she looks at me calmly, her eyes simply observing me.

"what's your name?"
"couhtney"
"i'm jessie, it's nice to meet you"
"hiya"
"how old are you?"
"fouhty fouh"
"oh yeah?"

her grandpa holds up five fingers: "what's this, couhtney?"
"six."
"when's that been six?"
"eh," she looks back at me, "don't listen teh him, he's an old geezeh."
"well, i believe you. you look forty four."

she stares at me for a moment, puzzled. i think she's not sure what to do with an adult who agrees with her ridiculous-ness.

her brother, the oldest of the three, i figure out later, comes around and comments on my laptop: "my teacheh's got a laptop like thot'n"
"it's really nice for working on."
"you've got pinball on't, y'know - go teh program, 'gehmes' and then 'pinball'"
"you want to play?"
"yea, alright"

meanwhile, sam (their grandfather) and i start up a conversation.

"zac's the brawn," and also the pinball champ, at this point, "but tj hehre is the brains. and couhtney's the muscle"

he smiles at her as she runs around to put something in the bin, and asks me if i'm going to lancaster uni. he got expelled at 15, and wanted to be a jockey, but got married instead.

"to three women, actually. lived with seven othehs, and now i've got thuhteen grandchilren! so much for being a jockey, yeah?"
"no kidding"
"they all thuhteen tuhned out alright, too - except feh one. he'll be a jailbihd yet! already institutionalized, i think he's developed a taste feh it."
"well, i guess if you get used to it . . ."

we both chuckle. courtney jumps into the chair next to me; "thot bin oveh theh smells!"
"that usually what happens when you put a lot of trash in one place," i reply.

tj smiles at me, and i get sucked into watching zac play pinball as tj tells me about how he's waiting to get his results; he might be going to grammar school. he's so proud of it, but trying desperately to be nonchalant; "eh, we'll see."

sam announces, "alright, you lot - i'm going feh anotheh smoke, and when i come back it's time teh go. you've pestehed the miss enough"

he comes back in, shakes my hand and wishes me good luck with my results as zac finishes his last game. the kids bounce out in front of their grandpa's guiding hands, and i wave to all of them as they pass by the window. i go back to my highlighting but hear a determined fist on the window right beside me; i look out to see courtney, staring at me intently with her hand over her mouth. she blows me a kiss, i blow her one back. she grins, satisfied, and skips off to join the boys.

regarding kanaph

kelly spoke on a passage in samuel at fusion tonight; she was talking about childlike faith, and resting in our father, and she brought up the word kanaph, which is the hebrew word for "wing." you know, "i rest beneath the shadow of your wing . . ."

great. that's wonderful.

here's the thing - it is also the hebrew word for "cloak."

think about it for a second.

we are to rest in the folds of god's cloak. we are to cozy up to the creator of the universe and talk into his chest of our dreams and hurts and desires and beliefs, about our days and our moods and our concerns and our friends.

it was just such a striking picture in my mind, being that i have a great need for physical affection, and am hurting for it at the moment. god actually has that space between a man's shoulder and his neck, right below his collarbone; the one that a woman's head fits perfectly into, do you know? god has a nook. and i was made so that i can wiggle up to him, bury my head in his nook with my arms tucked around my sides, and his arm around me, and then just look up at my god, soaking him in.

". . . definitely has a romantic plot line."

anyway.

he always seems to know right where to hit me, doesn't he.

cheers : )

boyfriend sweaters

me: "i think my boyfriend's a fruitcake."
lauren: "no, no, his grandmother knitted it for him. he never wears it."
me: "so he gave it to me!"
lauren: "exactly."
me: "oh, good. that makes sense."


this weekend was really wonderful. i finished wuthering heights, caught up with a kindred spirit, drank red wine and remembered why i'm in love with john cusack. not necessarily in that order.

also, i made a new list, seeing as how i haven't made one since i was 16 and i've been hatching too many plans that don't have a slot in the old one.

things to do before i die.

1) rediscover my identity as a bookworm
2) live in the uk for a year, at least
3) work as a live-in nanny for a family, preferably in the scottish/english countryside
4) take a cooking class
(and when i say "take" i mean "audit" so i don't have to do any work and can just learn)
5) take an art class
6) rent rooms in my house out to people who need a place to stay
7) have a library in one room of my house
8) own brown leather couches. old ones. sherlock holmesian ones.
9) find home
10) make my home
11) figure out what i'm to do with my connection to the ideas of people and relationships

good luck, right? well. i'm fairly determined, so we'll see what happens.

mmph.

because i don't want to be motivated. but also because i wish that i did want to be. because then i would be, wouldn't i.

i was so motivated this morning. and i will be in a bit, i just need a little time. i'm not really sure why, or what i'm hoping to accomplish in that time that will make it so much easier to be motivated, but there it is.

i'm in a mood where i want to be passionate, but i can't justify the risk involved. even with academic passion - the risk is that i won't be able to communicate my knowledge fully, or that i won't be able to write down what i think in the amount of time that i have. and if i can't do it completely, then why even start, right? which then means that i have less time and am more likely to sell myself short. i've never quite managed to be logical about passion.

i suppose that's the problem i have with schoolwork - it's channeling my passion into grade-able form. which takes forever. my excitement doesn't appreciate being channeled, although it's good for it, i think.

i don't like school. i love learning and i love sitting in a classroom and being taught, but i hate being graded and having guidelines for my reaction to the material. i'm not too sure about this career-woman-get-my-masters-and-ph.d. thing. it may be my mood, but part of it isn't, i know.

this is not helpful. it doesn't matter whether i like school or not, i'm in it for the next year and a half. i might as well embrace it and be productive, yeah?

yeah.

heh. right then . . .

i might be nocturnal.

i got absolutely nothing productive done today. i laid in bed. and now i'm wide awake and it's one in the morning.

good job, jessie.

i'm not that remorseful about it, to be honest - i've always been one to do the least i can and still get away with it. which i suppose makes today a very successful day, if you change the camera angle. perhaps i'll upload all the photos i've been meaning to, and then read.

yep.

come on get higher

i haven't done the two-a-day post thing in quite awhile. i actually don't think this blog has seen it yet, come to think of it.

well. the reason i'm posting twice is that i desperately want to listen to the rest of this album, and i absolutely cannot justify spending anymore time on facebook, and no one is online. so. here i am; i will not promise anything of consequence, since i'm essentially just killing time. not that most of my posts are anything of consequence, but you know.

come on get higher
loosen my lips
faith and desire
and the swing of your hips
pull me down hard
and drown me in love

i'm so full. it's the kind of full that makes you curl up in a ball on the wrong end of your bed and just listen for awhile. i don't know if that happens to any of you, but it's terriblewonderful; my all-or-nothing emotions have flicked the switch to "all," it seems.

just push me 'til i have to fly
i've shed my skin, my scars
take me deep out past the lights
where nothing dims these stars
nothing dims these stars

i think i'm officially in love with matt nathanson. and when i say "in love with" i mean to say that some mad hope, in general, makes me close my eyes, lean my head back and just glow. especially come on get higher. i haven't had one of those in awhile.

side note: hob nobs are delicious (oatmeal digestives - which are cookies - dipped in milk chocolate. hello.). i'm going to be in chocolate hell when i get back to the states. people heaven and chocolate hell.

i kept falling over
i kept looking backward
i went broke believing
that the simple should be hard

all we are we are
all we are we are
and every day is a start of something beautiful

see? love. there's been such a build up of little things. little things like spontaneous conversation and new people and new music and old friends and newer dear friends and family. and presence. he's just here, with me, and i can't forget it because he keeps giving me these little presents. i'm so overwhelmed and grateful and captivated, i think. it makes me want to just love someone. i forget that he means for it to make me want to love all of my someones; i'm afraid my heart tends to be fairly one track. it's actually very useful at times, i just have to remember to give it (ever-changing) direction. you know, focus it on whomever i'm with at the time.

mm.

on and on, to the beat of our noisy hearts

i think i'm just going to sit for a bit and listen. i've squeezed enough nothing out that if i were to try anymore it would just get . . . ridiculous. for lack of a better word, and there is one.

[matt nathanson: come on get higher/car crash/all we are/to the beat of our noisy hearts]

singing in the rain

"hey, this is jessie"
"hey baby."
"how are you?"
"i'm wonderful, how are you?"
"i'm doing really well"
"when do we get to see your lovely face?"
"i'll be back in time for christmas"
(he sings) "i'll be home for christmas"
(i join him) "you can count on me"
"i'll go get jonlyn - she'll be so glad to talk to you"
"thank you"
"love you"
"love you too"
"by the way, you look beautiful today."

oh. oh how i miss papa linville. there is no one like him, i don't think. it just takes me there - with the green trim and twisted branches and the creaky wooden floor and sink-in couches. the windy roads and the sound of gravel under the tires. driving, even. i miss lucy.

*sigh*

i went and played piano for a long time yesterday night - i realized that i shouldn't play piano when i don't want to feel. although, anytime i resist feeling i'm always glad i did in the end, you know.

i . . . well, yesterday and today have been god-date days.

i'm going to go read for a bit, i think.

oh the people you'll meet

we watched 8 1/2 today in film studies. maggie hated it, steven slept through it, and i think i really liked it. here's a thought-provoking piece of it:

[to set this up in the most simple, and therefore incomplete (although sufficient for my purposes), way, guido is a director who is presenting his idea of a film to the potential lead actress - claudia]

claudia: i don't understand. he meets a girls that can give him a new life and he pushes her away?
guido: because he no longer believes in it.
claudia: because he doesn't know how to love.
guido: because it isn't true that a woman can change a man.
claudia: because he doesn't know how to love.
guido: and above all because i don't feel like telling another pile of lies.
claudia: because he doesn't know how to love.

so here's the question it begs of me: doesn't everyone know how to love? are there people in the world who do not, in fact, know how to love? and if there are, is it because they simply don't possess the ability or is it because they can't be bothered to extract it from themselves?

it's all the same question really - nature vs. nurture, predestination vs. free will, practical love vs. romanced love. it's a struggle between emotions and logic, science and the arts.

and what is the answer, dear friends?

both. and neither. which is why i love it so much (and why quotes like that grab my attention so easily and completely) - there is so much to discover in the discussion of an idea that has no solution.

anyway. i have a story to tell you.

"that's the most important part of travel, isn't it, the people. i think that's really what travel is, to be honest - it's nice to see beautiful scenery and wonderful things, but it's really the people you learn from."

* * *

i was staring out the window daydreaming as usual and on my way to london to meet my parents for the weekend, when i found the seat next to me had become occupied by another passenger. she was an older woman, maybe in her 60s, with glasses so thick they distorted my view of her eyes. she was wearing a pink sweater with a black broach, and her hair looked like cinnamon sugar and fell to her shoulders; it was styled in loose waves set in place with hairspray. she emanated comfort. everything about her was worn in, but she was bright and vivid for it. her open presence was that of authenticity, not brokenness, and i was content to sit with her. suddenly, a loud beeping startled both of us from our thoughts.

"oh my," i chuckled.

"what's that, a fire?" she responded.

"something, anyway." with the silence broken, she began:

"when the train came in, we all thought it would be at that platform over there, but when it got here we had to run across to the other one! i just think about the elderly and disabled trying to hurry so quickly!"

"i saw everyone rushing - i wondered what was going on."

"now, with an accent like that you're not from this country are you?"

"no, i'm from america - i'm here for a term at lancaster university"

"ah, lancaster. my grandson graduated from lancaster - the styx!"

(i laugh)

"yeah - it's definitely the countryside; it's been really nice so far."

and thus our conversation grew and changed in the most normal and easy of ways. we talked about the future and how plans are limiting, we talked about her goddaughter who she was traveling to reconnect with after 30 years:

"they asked me to be her godmother and i agreed, but i warned them that i'd be terrible at it - i'm an atheist, you know. do you have godparents?"

"no, i know people who've got them, but i don't"

"well, they make you vow to sure they go to church and everything, and i just crossed my fingers behind my back the whole time!"

we also talked about suvs, the temptations of convenience, the nature of teenagers, the nature of growing and learning and conflict, and she shared that she's worried about becoming one of those older women who lives in the past and frets over how the world's changed since she was a young girl.

as we came up to crewe, she bid me farewell and then waved to me through the window as she walked away as if we were old friends, and i couldn't help but think to myself that this world is a place full of wonder. how can you not think so, after such a simple, beautiful conversation? it wasn't remarkable, it wasn't pronounced, it was just a gift. a little, unnecessary (and therefore all the more valuable) gift.

* * *

i feel like i have so much to tell - and it's the kind of so much that ends up turning into nothing because it would take so long to communicate. i think that's why i've been so quiet lately. there's just too much of me in here. i need to start giving it to people.

tricky thing, investment.

mm. i'm back. (thank you).

she takes a bow

apparently my assessment of my condition yesterday was a little melodramatic - nothing (even remotely) close to mono for this chica. in fact, today i feel quite wonderful. and not even 24 hours ago i was convinced i was dying. perhaps i'm crazy.

i've got michael buble radio on. yes, i do realize that makes me about 60 years old, but if you didn't know i was an old woman in a girl's body already it's time you found out . . . i crochet, for crying out loud.

let me just say that i will be forever grateful to whomever invented washers and dryers - i don't use them here because they're expensive, so i hand wash everything. which is not unpleasant, necessarily, it just takes a long time and makes your hands a bit raw. that's what i've been doing all day - listening to the soundtrack of hairspray and washing clothes in my sink. i can practically hear my drying rack complaining for the piles of clothes i've heaped onto it. but. i will have a full wardrobe again! i've been living off half of one for . . . a month, at least, because i'm lazy.


i think i might go see paris, je t'aime tonight - it's showing at the cinema on campus. i haven't been to a movie by myself in quite a long time. i actually can't think of a time i've been by myself; i usually either take tim or mom when i'm at home, and i just don't go to movies at school. it's time i start, i think.

wait. michael buble singing "can't buy me love"? mmph. no. now i'm in the mood for some beatles.

that's better.

and anytime you feel the pain, hey, jude, refrain
don't carry the world upon your shoulders
well don't you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
by making his world a little colder

i'm going to london tomorrow to spend the weekend with the fam, which i'm anticipating enough to make me quite tunnel-visioned about it. any other thoughts are (comparatively small) blips on the radar, right now, so i'm going to leave you to your own devices : ).

cheers.

sticky throat syndrome

it's times like these i wish we could just be recorded already. i want to hear jenn's voice singing jenn's song coming from somewhere other than my head, please. especially now that i know she's finished it. this year seems to be the year for that - finishing songs we've been working on forever. both jenn and i have completed our perpetually unfinisheds. i suppose it has been a year of coming full circle for both of us, in a lot of ways.

mmph. for candlelight and loved-on keys.

alright. i know this is not important, but there is no cursor on my screen as i'm typing this and it's about to drive me up the wall. i can't tell where i am when i stop typing.

oh glory! i have my cursor back. now i can communicate again.

i suppose i should catch y'all up on the past couple of days, yeah? i'm going to go get some food first. the problem with sleeping all day is that you don't eat. but i'll get to the sleeping part later.

tuesday was relatively remarkable, if just for the fact that we watched a film called broken flowers in film studies. it's a jim jarmush film, and bill murray plays a don juan-type character. at the beginning of the film, he receives a letter that makes him embark on a quest to find a potential son, and it's one of those films where the details just fit together, you know? which is simply an indication of it's categorization as an independent film, i've learned, but the wonder of indie films is a relatively new discovery for me, so let me marvel a bit. i just really enjoy things that present a connection between the title and the film that the viewer has to figure out for themselves. really, though, i just like good, meaningful titles.

obviously . . .

*she smirks*

speaking of titles (what a lovely, effortless transition! and i didn't even plan it that way), wednesday (yesterday - oh my.), hannah and i went to liverpool. we got there pretty early and went straight to the beatles' story, which is this underground museum dedicated to the beatles.

it was amazing. i bought a t-shirt.

just imagine walking through pictures of and stories about the beatles while listening to their music. so good. so cool. made me question my abilities as a musician, but that's a normal occurence in the face of such talent, i think. i'm getting to how this relates to titles, give me a second. after that, we walked along the pier to the tate.

modern art museum.

in liverpool, one of the artsy-ist cities in england.

*hallelujah*

it was so wonderful. hannah and i both were enthralled the whole time - it took us two hours to make it through three (fairly sparsely occupied) floors, so we will have to go back for the fourth another day. we also need to go back so that we can find penny lane, since we ran out of time.

i think my computer is retarded. maybe i gave it a virus.

i almost forgot to tell you about the titles! that would have been . . . anticlimactic of me. not that it's much of a climax. anyway - i was thoroughly unimpressed with the titles in the tate. which is disappointing, isn't it, because i always esteem artists to be creative and philosophical and i feel that those things should lead to good titles. i'm not claiming that the artists on display were not creative or philosophical by any means, i'm just saying they didn't offer good titles, like i think they should have. there were some good ones, but most of them were something to the effect of "woman bathing." great, i can see that for myself. but what does it mean? you're supposed to suggest what it means via title, not reinforce what it is. personal opinion: i would rather you label it "untitled" than tell me what i'm examining in a literal sense.

so, slightly bothersome, but not on the level that it interfered with my experience.

let's move down the road-bump-continuum to things that are troublesome (which is past bothersome, but not nearly devastating). i went to bed at 10:00pm last night, woke up at 9:30 this morning, went to two hours of class, came back and slept from noon until 5:30. i've been awake for a couple of hours and i'm already exhausted again (i haven't moved from my bed, mind you, apart from goin to the toilet and getting food). i just feel so off kilter physically. mono has been listed as a possibility, but i'm resisting it mentally. hopefully that will transfer to my body and i'll be fine. i do wish things worked like that, don't you?

well. i should go, because i'm feeling a little out of it and i'm not sure i have as much conscious control over what i'm typing as i usually like to anymore.

have a lovely evening.

9-1, the introverts.

there was a period of time where i thought i'd finally evened out and become one of those half-n-halfs, in terms of the introvert/extrovert debate.

how silly of me.

i can count my loves on one hand. i am no extrovert.

as much as i love the idea of being hospitable, i'm afraid i'm only able to be truly hospitable if i've got my own space to which i can escape. although my ability to welcome will improve with different circumstances, i feel.

there's a verse in the debate of king milinda in which nagasena claims that knowledge and wisdom are the same (my buddhism seminar today, if you were wondering where that came from).

i'm sure they are not the same thing, but i am not sure what exactly they are that makes them different.

knowledge is concrete and specific and grounded. wisdom is a state of mind, as martin put it, which i like very much. you use knowledge to gain wisdom, but there are very knowledgeable people who are very removed from my conception of wisdom. i find myself assuming that wisdom is a practical awareness of the nature of humanity, while knowledge is made up of the facts that point one in that direction.

i think i also make the distinction that one is earthly and the other divine, but that's an instinctive separation that i'm not sure is accurate. in fact, i don't think it is at all. omniscience, anyone?

i'm exhausted. i've got a couple hours until lecture this evening, so i'm going to go nap.

but first! i must tell you about the bookstore in lancaster. it's a chain and it's not got loads of character, but it is distinctly european and does have a balcony-type second level. i love it, and i'm going to model my library after it. my hypothetical library, that is . . . anyway. katie jane and i explored it after we froze ourselves at the castle watching the sunset, and i bought wuthering heights (seeing as how it's made for me, according to hannah, and i've yet to read it) and the time traveller's wife (that one's for you, kim - i will have read it by february so we can discuss/revel in it together).

mm.

and good morning, baltimore

hannah, lauren and i got italian in town this evening and then danced out of the theatre after hairspray.

"we're like a couple; dinner and a movie?"

i would love to live in a musical. everything would be easy and put to catchy music.

but. since that's not a particularly reasonable life goal, i'll just download the soundtrack and daydream, as usual.

excuse me while i indulge myself . . . i'll come back to the real world in the morning.

love, actually

i think i shouldn't watch movies like that . . .

but it was so lovely, no pun intended. i haven't cried since i've been here, with the exception of seeing katie jane in london, so it was well due.

and it's finally decided to be blustery, the kind you can hear through your window, you know; i like it very much.

i think i'll sleep just fine tonight, even if i only gave myself a few hours before seminar. it was worth it, i feel.

"irthdays" and that conversation thing

the times i feel most connected and alive here are the times that make me wonder if i've become socially dependent on the party culture. what if my ability to make conversation is being reduced to yelling back and forth in a club? why is it that when someone comes into the kitchen, the most i can muster up to say is "how was your day?" and after the answer is given, i'm quiet?

now, i know i've never been the most amazing conversationalist, but still. i feel so inadequate, so crippled in this! and then she thinks, maybe it has to do with the fact that you have very few things in common with the people you're trying to talk to. coincidence? of course not. it takes effort to make conversation across (very diverse) personalities, especially when you're as far into yourself as i am some days, and lately it seems i just can't be bothered. which will turn into a pattern of behavior more than a bad couple of days, if i don't watch it.

i also haven't done any work lately, so once i've freed up that part of my mind i'll have more to give, i think.

i don't particularly want to go to CU tonight, but i think i need to (well, i know i need to, but the word "know" doesn't give me much room to get out of going, does it?), in keeping with the having-something-to-give theme.

we watched a film called slacker in film studies today that was very disjointed. it wasn't a very good story, first-hand, anyway - it was a picture of different stories that i could have explored mentally if i wanted to (and thus realized the stories being communicated), but again, i couldn't be bothered.

i should really remember to take my iron, i think.

other than my energy slump, things are well. i'm enjoying a blast from the past to the tune of gavin degraw, and i think i might actually get some work done today; i looked at my buddhism essay for a bit yesterday, and it's going to be really interesting to write. i'm comparing the concepts of suffering in buddhism and christianity and potentially islam, if i can find good information on it. well, if i have the time to find good information on it. which means, if i don't procrastinate. heh.

right then.

cheers.

a reflection on autumn

usually you think of the words "crisp" or "clean" to describe the cold air, yes? autumn is a crisp time of year, all the way around. i think what i love about fall is that it leans toward minimal. the trees empty their branches, the air empties itself of that squelchy warmth and everything is in transition. and transition breeds a rare form of almost-emptiness that is not bad, in itself. in fact, i think i've learned quite a lot from transition-emptiness, as far as truth goes. i think the thing about transition-emptiness is that there's a lot of room for possibility, obviously. and there are always hints of what's to come that filter through, but they never stay; you're not there yet, after all. it feels very healthy, when your center is elsewhere. or maybe it's healthy because it makes you find your center elsewhere. via a series of misplaced centers, albeit.

some devil is the most autumn album i've ever heard, i think. however. i'm listening to coldplay.

lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones

i read over my old blog last night. the highschool part, the angsty and searching for everything part. it was . . . good, to look. when good means:

revealing,
surprising,
humorous,
thought-provoking,
removed,
an avenue for gratitude, and a little healthy embarrassment for myself.

i hate that the word good is so big. and it's never used the right way. but i'm guilty of it, as well, so i suppose i shouldn't be complaining until i change my ways : )

i should start clarifying my "i'm doing well," with a "which means i'm in transition, and i'm comfortable there, because i feel like it's where i'm meant to be, so i'm pretty settled, anyway." i also don't have much to say, since transition isn't terribly full, as we've already discussed. could've fooled you with the amount of posts lately, eh?

ok. well. dinner is calling. or rather, the ingredients of what soon will be my dinner are calling.

i should say "tea," to be culturally correct.

i'm going to go make tea, then : )

tears for taylor mac

a one-man-(in)-drag-show. very minimalistic and very raw? but still very much a show, in that his personality is a showy one, as are most drag-queen's personalities, i would imagine.

just a guess.

i was more moved by the authenticity of feeling in this drag show than i have been by a sermon in quite a long time.

maybe it's the novelty - maybe the feeling seems more real because it's such a new angle. maybe i'm just jaded when it comes to church, which a real and distinct possibility.

maybe my expectations of church have muddled the experience for me. it certainly wouldn't be the first time my high expectations have led to cynicism.

anyway, i just feel like truth is much more internal than all of that. which means it's portable and not confined to a certain atmosphere.

to be fair - my heart moved in the same way while i was listening to the choir practice in manchester cathedral. i think that's what it is - my heart moves to beauty. taylor's a cappella the only thing to fear is fear itself with feeling in his eyes and coming out from behind the sequins and paint under the spotlight was beautiful because it was honest. the kind of honest that lingers in the air for a moment after it's communicated. like the sound of the choir.

i'm afraid of fear
i'm afraid of fearful people

[taylor mac]

church is too formulaic to be beautiful sometimes. it's too big not to be formulaic. which leads me to wonder, when did the idea of fellowship come to mean walking into a sea of people every sunday morning? how did we twist the idea of community to be more impersonal than staying in bed, alone?

i suppose that's what sunday school and bible studies are for - heck, it's what families are for - to be your community, with corporate worship being a gathering of the communities, ideally.

i should disclaim all of this and say that this is my personal opinion and a lot of this stems from my introverted-self's preferences. my heart's capacity for community is about 10 people big. if that, some days.

amos lee's voice sounds like a male version of norah jones's, i think. at least it does in night train.

i've been searching for a simple place
don't know if it exists

there's a sunrise out there calling my name
i can see her moving, i can see her moving

well at a certain time of night, now
i'll become one with the wind
where there isn't a beginning
and there is no end

[amos lee]

the entire day is gone, and i haven't done a single thing . . . except process a thought. that's valuable, right?

i'll take it. and try not to run : )

hi my name is jessie, and i'm a choco-holic.

mm. apple slices and nutella. generic nutella, actually: sainsbury's belgian milk chocolate spread, to be exact. you know you've made it when you are in a place that has generic nutella. english boys are so frustrating. they never say hello when you pass them on the sidewalk, er, pavement. unless they're complete manwhores, but that's probably what allows them to become manwhores, isn't it? that little thing girls like to call acknowledgment.

i'm not hitting on you, for crying out loud. it's called being friendly. get over yourself already.

humph.

the british are so backwards that way sometimes; they have absolutely no concept of physical personal space, but an overdeveloped emotional one. i always get really grouchy after going to the grocery store because everyone and their mother bumps into you and then walks away like nothing happened. i don't understand. i want the south back.

i'm only joking about that last part. and now that my rant is over i feel much better.

my keys are sticky with apple juice. but that means that i have an apple in my stomach, which makes me happy. not to mention the nutella (again). obviously that's a great source of delight in my life . . .

i have 1 hour and 41 mintues until my next lecture, approximately, and i've not a thing to do until then. i could clean my room, i suppose, but i don't really feel like it right now. give me an hour and then i will.

i bought my christmas ball ticket today - i'm having very much fun putting my outfit together, seeing as how the whole thing is going to cost me about 25 pounds. dress, shoes, accessories included. that's very exciting, when you think about how much i could've spent on a formal dress. it just makes getting dressed up *that* much more fun because you don't feel so frivolous.

i'm going to london tomorrow! to see katie jane and company - it will be so good to see familiar faces, i think. and hear voices that i know well. and to go out with my friends! my real, honest to goodness know who i am and have seen me at my worst friends. oh, i can't wait. i might cry. i'm going to try not to, but i probably will.

that makes my time here sound so emotionally trying, doesn't it? it hasn't been - i'm emotionally connected here and i do not feel any troubling void when it comes to support. however. one is silver . . .

right. i'm going to go play. i'm not sure what that entails, exactly, but i'm going to go figure it out because i can't think of anything else to type on about.

catch y'all later.

even you, o princess . . .

yes, i really am listening to the bbc concert orchestra's version of nessun dorma on repeat in my dorm room.

it's beautiful, and i need it. so there.

not that today was particularly
bad . . . in fact, to say that today was bad at all would be to mis-speak. it was quite lovely - megan, hannah and i went to manchester for the day. and we went shopping and i bought a shirt (for a pound!) and a dress for the christmas ball (for five pounds!!!!!), and the coolest, most wonderful pair of boots in the world.

and then we rode the ferris wheel together and went to the cathedral afterwards.

let me tell you about the cathedral: we walked in as the choir was practicing, and they sounded so beautiful. their voices filled the room to the ceiling and worked their way into the crevices of the dark-wooded carvings on the walls and into the patterns in the stained glass windows, and it brought tears to my eyes. i just sat on the bench for awhile in the middle of this huge church with absolutely breathtaking music filling me. every time i looked up at the ceiling i felt it flow out, you know? i felt me flowing up and out.

so refreshing.

cleansing, too. you could say i had a moment : )

nessun dorma
nessun dorma
tu pure, o principessa
nella tua fredda stanza
guardi le stelle che tremano d'amore, e di speranza . . .

today has been a day of things that fit together, if you know what i mean. little things, sure, but things nonetheless.

'night, y'all.

it's all about the eyebrows

well, my door has been left open, but i'm in bed and i really don't feel like getting up to close it, so i'm just going to suck it up and blog with the door open.

yes, it makes a difference.

it's hard to process when people are watching. or could potentially watch. or could potentially think about watching. bah, i'm such an introvert.

i've eaten all of the pistachios out of the trail mix megan and i made, and i can't resign myself to eat the rest of it if it doesn't have pistachios in it. but if i buy more then i'll just eat the pistachios again and i'll be in the same place i am right now.

hm.

i like this song (radiohead, still; the weird fishes one).

last night was fun. however, you know you're starved for conversation when you get excited for having conversations with people who you know won't remember a word of them in the morning. but i suppose you make do with what you have. it was better than most of our nights go as far as interacting with people - usually we just dance with the freshers in our kitchen and then go home. so it was good to get out of the circle and talk to people a little closer to my age. though, if i'm being honest, "talk" is not an accurate word at all - more like screaming questions over the music and after a couple "whats?" getting an answer, to which you have to scream "what?" a few times before you understand it. damn british accents. ian asked me if i knew who "the beatles" were and i thought he said "the peels" so i said, "no i've never heard of them" and he just about had a heart attack. oops.

i want to have one of those conversations where you introduce yourself for the first time at the start and by the time you leave you're giving them a hug, do you know? a really good, friendship-building conversation. three hours, minimum.

i'm already getting restless here. i want to go places and do things. uni life? check, done, let's find the next adventure.

it's a blessing though, my restless heart is, right now. at fusion yesterday we had a really long quiet time at the beginning with candles and it was wonderful because people always cut quiet times off before i'm done, but this time it went long enough for me to actually get a thought out and process it with the big guy. i just asked for the right heart towards this place - i knew i was getting caught up in uni life, just in the shallow mindset way, but the thing about being caught up in things is that you don't really care that you're caught up in it, because when it's all said and done you're having a good time and who wants to end a good time? but i brought all of that with my candle and i realized (or, rather, was shown) that i was too attached to things. i made myself an idol? that's never happened before. anyway, i think because i'm here for so short a time i feel like i should be the best-liked that i can be while i'm here, so i felt this pressure to impress (and to be impressed, because often to impress you have to show that you have been impressed, if that makes sense). it was really dampening me and my ability to communicate myself when i interacted with people. express myself, rather. communication implies that the other party understands what i'm expressing, and that's definitely not always the case.

so he worked me through it and then i felt so free to be myself for the rest of the evening that i was able to really be with the people i was around, instead of just being around the people i was with. instead of just being around the people with whom i was? why does the grammatically correct version always sound so convoluted? elevated may be a better word. elevated and therefore unnecessary? any type of elevation is usually unnecessary, i feel, even if it is for the sake of expression. although i guess in this case the initial, and therefore most accurate, expression involved grammatical uncorrectness. so there.

*chuckle*

i'm doing well today - still riding on the prayer-thing. it's nice . . . conversation is.

imagine that.

meh.

i don't know what it is, but it's accurate right now . . . listening to music i really connect with just makes me feel. and when i feel it feels very quiet and kind of down. and not down like Eeyore down, down like my stomach settles in, if that makes any sense at all. maybe the down is because there are very few places where i'm truly and completely myself (that's true of anyone, i think), and so settling in exposes the space between me and my surroundings? which i don't like, but it's good to recognize anyway.


but i've decided i'm going to pull an emma and match-make. it was so wonderful to convince her to go talk to him tonight and then see the look on his face when she sat down next to him. when it all first developed, i played the token hopeless romantic and kept telling her and telling her. i was optimistic to the point of being annoying, really - almost like i was playing devil's advocate, with the devil representing hope and love in this case? i'm not going to deal with how wrong that is.

anyway, i hope i get to say i told you so. he reads newspapers in the bar with his friends and she dances like a crazy person, so naturally they're perfect for each other.

i want to buy new music, but the network here blocks the i-tunes store. so. i've resorted to pandora, which is working just fine, but still. i have a particular craving for owen and he only comes on every 3rd or 4th song. i'll manage, i suppose.

i wish i had more, but i'm afraid the mood i'm in is not very conducive to an edifying post - for y'all anyway. i always benefit from the release, it's just whether it makes any sense once it comes out.

i'm not really that concerned about it, to be honest. i have a pretty self-centered approach to blogging . . .

well, i'm going to go to sleep.

i'm ready for my hair to be long again.

meh.

some pages bent
the spines creased and worn
all signs of being adored
and those words somehow meant more to you
than who they were written for

[owen]

a very successful hair day, indeed

megan's hair is now curly, and kate's hair is now blonde(ish).

i'm exhausted. today was a long day. funny, seeing as how i skipped lecture. twice.

but i was combating being sick. i do feel better, so i think i may have succeeded. we'll see, yeah?

i need to go to bed - i was going to try to communicate a little, but i don't really feel like communicating at all right now. even though i think i'm very much hurting for it lately. i need familiar voices, i think. i've had enough of the computer screen. presences would be ideal, but that's just not practical, so i'll have to make do with voices for now.

and we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds . . .

[missy higgins]

well, i'm going to stop whining - but life is always more lonely when you're sick, you know? so today was just a lonely day, that's all.

goodnight, then.

hatching plans and other such nuisances

i try very hard not to make plans for my future anymore, seeing as how i've gotten it wrong almost every time i've made them, but there's this one plan that sprouted when i got here and it's been growing since then in little spurts and pangs. today was a spurt day.

anyway, lancaster has a year-long masters program in psychology. and i thought i would never want to go straight into masters from undergrad, but it's england. and i could get a visa, and therefore a job (and thus make twice the money, with the exchange rate) and get my masters and live in england for a year. and take ballroom dancing lessons. and hike. and be around people with british accents who use words so much more dramatically than we do in the states. for example, at the poster sale in alexandra square:

ask sales assistant for a pristine copy of this poster

pristine.

no one says pristine. but it's so expressive, isn't it? so much better than just saying "new" or "wrapped."

back to my plan: when i got back to the states, not only would i have double the money, i would have a masters degree with which i could actually get a real job. not my ideal real job, but a real job nonetheless.

and i would already know my way around the university here and i would have an entire year to explore europe (hello, christmas holiday) and it would be amazing.

bothersome plan, isn't it? or hope, or dream, depending on how you look at it. i suppose it's more accurate to call it a dream.

we'll stick it to the felt board, anyway. i feel like these days my life is perpetually stuck in the brainstorming phase.

i think i like it that way.

i've got to pack for coniston . . .

y'alright?

which is equivalent to "how are you?," but it still catches me off-guard sometimes. of course i'm alright.

today's been a don't touch me day, so far. which is going to make for a very awkward dancing session tonight, but i'll push through it, i suppose (oh, the agony.) . . .

i wonder about being the friend who sticks around. because i think that by being the one who sticks around, you inevitably become the one who gets left. people don't like to take people with them when they move on, you know.

how awfully selfish, wasn't that? disgusting.

i'm going to be a dork and recite (select parts of) my buddhism lecture to you. it was on suffering, which is kind of my thing. not that i'm a masochist or a sadist, but i do want to be a therapist, and therefore have to be somewhat interested in the process of suffering. not to mention the part of my interest that stems purely from it's existence in my life and the lives of my family and friends.

there's a yellow jacket in my room. fantastic.

hooray, it flew out.

anyway, suffering. is called "dukkha" in pali, which is the latin of buddhism.

my notes:

what is dukkha?
- a problem/suffering/'unsatisfactoriness'
- life is full of it; life will never be perfect
- approach dukkha; FACE IT

6 kinds of suffering
1) dukkha dukkha
- something intrinsic about human experience (i.e. death, aging, etc.)
- "normal" pain
- pain means you are alive
2) viparinama dukkha
- dukkha x sukkha = unpleasant x pleasant
- sukkha/pleasure can be equivalent to dukkha/pain
- both are temporary
- caused by clinging too tightly to sukkha
3) sankhara dukkha
- dukkha caused by our attachment to our sense of ego
- we are not who we think we are
- open up your sense of self: examine why we cling to it
4) paticchanna dukkha
- concealed/covered up/subconscious pain (i.e. trauma that's been suppressed)
5) apaticchanna dukkha
- exposed/conscious pain
6) pariyaya dukkha
- the fact that one is reborn again and again, and that one is caught up in an endless orbit
- not just a life-long cycle, can be a daily cycle/the everyday-life cycle

fascinating stuff, isn't it? i'm sure this is some sort of travesty, but the (unintentional though they may be) parallels to my faith are so blatant at some points that i can't help but become a little more settled - like if we agree on this, then we didn't come up with it in a vacuum, you know? sometimes i worry about that and doctrine. if you come up with doctrine in a denominational bubble it never really fits, i don't think. so the fact that others recognize what we do, though they take it in a different direction, means we didn't come up with it on our own. i like people, but that doesn't mean i should blindly trust them with my spiritual doctrine. there's something about the idea that buddhists and christians have the same general idea about suffering that is so big it couldn't be the work of humans, you know. that's encouraging.

and sure, there are really big differences between the two faiths, i just wanted to point out the similarities for a moment, because they do exist, i think.

my grandpa would die if he knew his own flesh and blood was comparing buddhism to presbyterianism : )

i love my grandpa.

i'm tired. i think it's time for a nap. here's the picture of my internship that i promised to post a million years ago:



a yucky nuetral, with moments of (slightly crinkled) hallelujah!'s.

farewell, friends; hello, naptime.

today, i can't be bothered

i'm cold. logically, that means i should shut my window, but my desire for fresh air and the fact that i would actually have to get up to close the window supersede logic at this point. this is really the first day that i've been actually cold, though, which is pretty good, i feel. going to town in flip-flops and a t-shirt probably didn't help . . . it was warm this morning, in my defense, and i just felt like wearing flip-flops.

i'm stocked up on groceries now, which feels good - i actually have milk! for the first time in about a week, simply because i'm lazy.

anyway, my trip to town was very successful; not only did i get groceries, i got hiking boots and a shell (pants and a jacket). and now i can go on any of the hiking club's trips. i was already going on the social weekend this weekend, but now i'll actually be allowed to go hiking, which is kind of the point of going on a hiking club trip, yeah?

it's gorgeous today - blue sky and fall breeze and fresh, cold air. mm. i'm curled up beside my open window in my sweatshirt and blanket, i've just finished my cup of tea and crumpets (i made crumpets with cheese - they were positively scrumptious) and i am very satisfied with the world and my place in it right now.

i'm not going out tonight - i saw enough of the carlton at our flop of a welcome dinner last night that i'm not tempted to go back so soon. maybe not ever, but we'll see. i'm going to go to fusion (which is like a discipleship/fellowship group on campus) and just hang out there for awhile, get to know people my age (or older) for a change. although i did meet a pretty awesome fresher last night - he's a guitar major, and we talked about bluegrass for a long time while we were waiting for the stupid bus. it made me really happy because no one knows what bluegrass is here, and those who've heard of it before call it "bluesgrass," which is just wrong. so wrong.

i've got radiohead playing, again. it's quite an infectious album.

in the deepest ocean
the bottom of the sea
your eyes
they turn me
why should i stay here?
why should i stay?

i'd be crazy not to follow
follow where you lead
your eyes
they turn me

[radiohead]

i'm going to go enjoy the rest of my evening, i hope y'all do the same.

mind over matter

well, i had journey stuck in my head walking back from my buddhism seminar, but i've put radiohead on, so i won't be belting "don't stop believing" today. that was an american bonding moment in the kitchen last night, to the brits' amusement, and i think it should stay that way . . .

i'm finally going to hear live music tonight! it's open mic night at pendle, so i think ian and i are going to go check it out. and then i'm going to watch zodiac with hannah and steven.

i think this evening is going to be good for me. i need to return to my old ways a little bit, for, although i don't feel i've lost myself, i've definitely put myself in very different surroundings than what i'm used to. and to put a backwoods acoustic personality into clubs with r&b and techno just doesn't quite fit. i mean, it's definitely a part of me, but it's not the only part, and i feel i've been neglecting my acoustic side while i've been here. and i have yet to find a piano that's not terribly out-of-tune and in the middle of the billiards room in county bar.

also, i haven't watched a thought-provoking movie in what feels like ages - i lived off of them over the summer and since i moved into school in the states i haven't really watched any. except the nanny diaries, but that was just fun (though more substantial fun than most chick-flicks), so it doesn't really count.

but zodiac. zodiac counts.

i'm ready.

i've decided i'm going to attempt to limit myself to 20 pounds a week. i'm not sure i can do it, especially if i want to include grocery shopping in the 20, but i'm going to try. if i think i'm going to travel anywhere i need to start saving my money up. and even if i don't keep to exactly 20 pounds, i will be thinking about the money i'm spending and thus i will spend less, yeah?

i really don't want to read my psychology. it's fascinating stuff, but i'm so out of the academic mindset by now that i just don't want to do work. at all. i'm not sure exactly how i think i'm going to make it through getting my ph.d. if i can't even read a chapter in cognitive psychology, but i'll worry about that when i get there, i suppose.

when i first listened to the new radiohead album i didn't like it, but it's been on all day - it's growing on me pretty quickly. and it makes wonderful background music for thinking. as does feist. but feist is just wonderful all the way around.

ok. i'm going to go check e-mail, etc. and then crack the book open a little before my 5pm lecture.

mmph.

there's a practice session for ballroom for three hours this afternoon in county lecture theatre, and it's kind of a drop in thing, but i'm not sure i can be bothered to go. i should go, just for the sake of getting out of my room and doing something. but i've also got to tidy up my room - laundry is the equivalent of $3.00 to wash and $2.00 to dry, so i've been conserving, and that means there's a huge pile of clothes on my chair that i've worn, but they're not dirty yet because i don't want to pay for wash.

anyway. i'm cranky and i'm bored. but i am starting to settle in, which feels really nice. and people have started calling me "jess," which i love. i also feel like i've kept myself in the process of settling in. that's big; in the past my tendency was to mold somewhat blindly (and i say blindly because it was never completely or dangerously, it was just foolishly and without proper thought) to where i was and who i was with, but now i feel like i've given enough to relate, but not enough to change. it feels really nice to be me and be comfortable around people who would normally really intimidate me.

i think i'm going to organize my room and then go dancing for a bit. i thought i needed to vent, but i don't really even feel like venting. also, seeing as how i have nothing to vent about, it wouldn't have helped anyway, i don't think.

so whiny, aren't i? this is what happens when i get bored. which is why i'm going to go move.

have a lovely afternoon : )

cheap wine and the ministry of sound

well, i suppose people will think what they will.

i'm experiencing more of a culture clash with my fellow americans than i am with the locals, at the moment. there's something very foreign about the fact that i don't want to get drunk. or that when i have had a bit to drink i don't care to create a scene about it. and somehow a conversation about blacking out turned into a get-jessie-drunk campaign, and the campaigning has now bled onto facebook. in very small ways, mind you.

end of the world? no.

bothersome? sure.

i feel like i need to put a disclaimer on my profile, "dear future employer, i am responsible and any comments made to the contrary are false," but then it just looks like i'm covering my ass, doesn't it? i suppose i would be. in fact, i think that's probably what this post is, as well - an attempt to keep people from thinking ill of me. it always comes back to that, i feel.

i seem to have made friends who act like they couldn't care less what people think of them. or me, for that matter.

funny, that. it pits my loyalty to my friends against my loyalty to my image: two of the biggest idols i'll ever treasure.

clouds part
just to give us a little sun

there's a limit to your love
like a waterfall in slow motion
like a map with no ocean
there's a limit to your love

i love i love i love
this dream of going upstream
i love i love i love
the trouble that you give me
i know i know i know
that only i can save me
i'll go i'll go i'll go
right down the road

there's a limit to your love
like a waterfall in slow motion
like a map with no ocean
there's a limit to your love
your love your love your love


i'm going to go listen for a bit and attempt to sleep.


one two three four
tell me that you love me more
sleepless long nights
that is what my youth was for

old teenage hopes are alive at your door
left you with nothing but they want some more

oh, you're changing your heart
oh, you know who you are

[feist]

'night.

that was brilliant.

maggie and i decided that we are both simply one glittery, spandex, cut-out dress away from being ballroom dancing experts. sure, we've only had one lesson, but man can we cha-cha. and waltz.

*chuckles*

seriously, though - i'm in love with it. dancing, i mean. and i've always known that i would be, but i've never had an opportunity to do anything about it, you know.

lauren: "i jus' miss melbournian dancehs."
chris: "what's a melbournian dance?!?"
kate: "i was picturing something like elaine's dance from seinfeld, you know?"
[hannah and lauren demonstrate elaine's dance from seinfeld, cheese in hand, i'm pretty sure]
lauren: "no, i said dancehs, not dances. they sound the same."
chris: "oh right."

that's what you get when you put all the fes's in the kitchen for extended periods of time. with a fes being a foreign exchange student. you know, like that 70's show. except none of us have a lisp. and we all know where we're from.

anyway, back to ballroom dancing, because that's really what i want to talk about right now. i went to the lesson on tuesday and it was amazing. granted, maggie and i had to lead each other around the dance floor a few times because there is a frustrating lack of boys who are willing to join the ballroom dancing society, but the times i was actually able to follow with a guy who knew what he was doing, i felt so . . . lovely. there's just something about it. you both give a little; strain your muscles a little for the flow of movement. connect with yourselves independently so that you can move together, yeah? so wonderful. mm.

there's another lesson tomorrow, and i was jumping around the kitchen telling mary about it.

enough about ballroom, yet?

alright.

unfortunately, that's all i've got on the brain right now, so i'm going to go be excited for tomorrow and leave you all to gaggle at how much of a dork i am. but you know you're just jealous because one of these days, i'll get to wear sparkly spandex . . .

cheers.

pull yourself together

divine humor, part 537,217,001: i was becoming frantic in the way that you only become frantic when you're coming down with a cold and therefore haven't slept. someone across the hall was playing one of those songs that magnifies any form of desperation, i don't know if y'all have those, but i've got several at this point. anyway, the point is that it was playing, loudly, and i couldn't switch it off, because it wasn't mine to switch off. and i just laid face-down on my bed telling the frantic to go away, and then i picked up my devotional, opened to today, and

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER

greets me from the top of the page. cheers.

*sigh*

also, have you ever known those people who just bring out the worst in you? the callous part? because there is someone here who, without fail (or intending to, for that matter), always seems to pull my dry, sarcastic, i-have-no-heart side out. which is hard to do, considering how mushy i am most of the time. but i can't get over it. i can't shake it, and i always end up calling him a jackass or commenting on his clothing or something terrible like that. and it's all in fun, technically - i always say it with a smile, right? it wouldn't bother me if i knew it didn't bother him, but i think i may be hurting him, though he'd never say it - he's one of those arrogants who is really insecure about things (it takes one to know one, trust me), and i have a feeling my little comments are not helping.

so i'm worried about that, you know; i'm stressing about being able to be really genuine to him.

interacting with people is so complicated, and yet so simple, yeah?

to the dreamers go the dreams
but the leaders have the lead
it's a frightening, frightening thing

the moons and stars are ganging up on the sun . . .

[guster]

well, i'm going to go sleep a little and see if i don't wake up in a less scattered mood. and with a little less of my throat blocked off.

have a lovely afternoon, all. i'm going to go attempt to live quietly.

walking through the quad, etc.

today, today.

has been quite the day, so far. i started off by breaking a glass in the kitchen - mine fell out of the cupboard and hit someone else's onto the floor, where it shattered. good, right?

and then i dropped another dish in the sink, but luckily it didn't break, though it did unsettle me even more than i already was.

also, coming back from laundry just now, i walked onto the wrong floor. not into the wrong room or wrong kitchen, i went up an extra flight of stairs and couldn't figure out why my key wouldn't work until i looked up and saw the C62 where there should've been a B62.

and i had to walk through the quad while the football club was gathered around the tree, which is just kind of awkward because i don't know them very well, and i wasn't in the mood to be friendly, so it was one of those walk past and say hi but don't stop walking to chat things. in my defense, they were still meeting/gathered so they couldn't have talked anyhow.

i think it's one of those things that i think i should be a part of, their group of friends is, but i just can't really resign myself to be how i would have to be to get into it. or rather, that's my assumption today because i'm in a bad mood and had an awkward interaction with them that wasn't awkward to anyone but me. honestly, if i would just open up a little i'd be there, which is usually how it works. people usually like me if i'm myself, funny thing as that is.

i'm going to pause for a moment of zen.



that's better.

i'm listening to the fray, and they're working quite well on my nerves.

i think a large part of the problem is that the past week has been filled with wonderful, fast-paced fun that didn't require solid friendships, so i was content to make acquaintances. but the problem with acquaintances is that they don't know you very well. example a: hannah comes into my room last night before we were going to go upstairs with something to tell me.

"so i was talking to rich last night and he was saying how luke thinks 'the other american with curly hair' is attractive and interesting . . ."
"oh yeah?"
"yeah. he's pretty cute - you should probably . . ."
(i laugh)
"i should probably tap that, huh?"
"definitely."

here's my thing about it - i feel like she thinks i would. or that if i was consistent i would. which makes me feel like i've misled her about what i do and who i am, to some extent. i know she knows it, but that doesn't feel the greatest either. does that mean i've sold out? does that mean my actions this week are contradictory to what i believe and who i am? no, but i think i'm quite the paradox, meaning on initial examination it looks like i contradict myself. which is not a very cool thing to do.

i'm just complicated and i think i worry that people don't have time for me to be complicated, so i try to simplify things and then all people get are bits and pieces that don't seem to fit together because i haven't shown them the whole picture.

*sigh*

i'm glad i've identified the source of my clutz-day, though.

and laundry is calling, so i will leave you for now. maybe i'll come back to the right floor this time . . .

life at uni . . .

i am here, i am well. i am in love with this place. i haven't exactly found my niche yet, but i've got (a little) time and i'm very much enjoying myself in the meantime. freshers week is going to turn me (and everyone else in my kitchen) into an alcoholic, but that's irrelevant.

oh, i'm kidding.

anyway, i'm living in County College - there are about 6 or 7 colleges in the university here. The colleges are split up into buildings (i'm in county main, there's also county north and south) and then each hallway is assigned to a specific kitchen. so when i refer to "my kitchen," i'm talking about my hall. there are about 26 of us, and about 10 of those are foreign exchange students. 7-ish americans, one australian, and a couple canadians. all the rest are freshers, and we also have "kitchen reps" which are the hall staff. lyndon, ian and phil are our reps, and bailey is the equivalent of our RA. he's insane.

i'm older than all of them, which is a little strange, but it's not uncomfortable.

and did i mention the "friendly" rivalry between colleges?

"C-O-U, N-T-Y
we are County 'til we die
with a nick nack paddy wack
give a dog a bone
why don't Lonsdale f*** off home!"

or, this is a good one:

"fylde boys are illegitimate
they ain't got no birth certificate
they got aids and they can't get rid of it"

all this mixed in with an "eh, millah!" every minute or so from bailey. and very dirty looks from the students in the other colleges, who are sitting in the front of the bus on the way to the bar trying very hard to ignore our kitchen. i don't blame them.

and that is pretty much how it's been thus far.

except today, the boys were cleaning the (already destroyed but looking slightly better) kitchen.

me: "i'm really impressed that ya'll are cleaning the kitchen!"
tony: (after moaning about my use of the word "ya'll") "there's nothing to be impressed about, we're just being polite british boys . . . not like those american ones" (he smirks)
me: "uh huh."



left: tony and his sponges. then andrew, who apparently is not fond of pictures? mark cleaning the sink. in the manliest way, of course. and james, who is from south england. everyone else is from the north (lancaster is in northern england, logically enough), except mary - she's from the south part of london.

well. i will be back soon with more pictures and stories, i hope - i wanted to at least let everyone know that i'm alive, since i haven't had internet until today (and i didn't feel like searching for everyone's e-mail addresses).

i'm going to go make myself some dinner. which they call "tea."

right then.

evenin' : )