pineapple, iron and wine

i am back in fort worth. i dropped my pineapple. and i called home crying hysterically. i have so much to do this week. a short story to finish. a writing portfolio to turn in. a literature test. a spanish test. and the other readings and writings usually do during the week. i try not to complain. it is just that time in the semester. everyone is busy. i know this. but does everyone drop their pineapple too? because that really sucked. i should be allowed to complain about that.

i want to curl up into my iron and wine cd. i want to jump into the music and forever live in the lyrics, the rhythm, the melody, the harmony. i would be willing to spin around and around, risk getting sick, just to hear the notes and words forever. and forever is a long time. i want to dive in and swim in the ocean of drums and guitars and strings and piano and voices. oh, the voices. it is beautiful. it is calming. i don't think i have ever felt this way about a cd before--not even cursive. (note: although i love cursive, a cursive cd would not be the happiest of places to live.) i am in love. i am in love with a world i will only be able to experience from a far.

home sweet home

ah. the feeling of home. you gotta love it.

i no longer feel like a bad daughter. i am now on page fourteen of my short story. i was bad and bought three--technically, four--new cds. i am getting my fix of hgtv. i am spoiled with yummy food (thanks to josh, click here for picture). i was able to go on a long walk with my dad. i can play the piano whenever i want. i can jump around and be silly with jaimie and joseph. i was able to see my dad with black shoes, brown socks, and his jeans rolled up as he yoddled. i have practiced speaking spanish with my brother. i bought funny dresser drawer knobs, and i don't even have a dresser. i have successfully removed the red car out of rush hour traffic--at least twenty times--i am now working on the advanced cards. i get to laugh as my parents are constantly talking about their upcoming italy trip and mock them as they check the live italy web camera hourly.

and it's only saturday evening.

the cross walk and martinis

every day on my way to and from school i cross berry street. now, this street is very busy. i have yet to find this street not busy, and this includes the occasional two in the morning drive homes from random concerts and such. so everyday i cross berry street at a light to guarantee my safe passage. and i hit the cross walk button--twice. now, i am pretty sure you only have to hit a cross walk button once. but i can't. i have to hit it twice. until today. today on my nice walk home, i come to the cross walk, reach out my arm, and hit the faded black button four times. and as i walked across the street towards the glowing "walk" sign, i wondered, why four? why not three times? and then after a little consideration, i thought that maybe the cross walk button is similar to olives in martinis. maybe pushing the button once or three times or any odd number is unlucky. just like two or four or any even number of olives is unlucky for martini drinkers. and then i laughed out loud--how ridiculous is it that i know that an even number of olives in a martini is bad luck or a drinker/bartender faux pas? pretty dang. pretty dang ridiculous.

oddness and the smell of rain to come

today on my nice long walk to class, a bug jumped into my eye. "ouch," i whispered as my eyes began to fill with tears to wash the intruder away. "damn bug," i said as the, now presumed dead, bug continued to slide around my eye ball. i had to go to the restroom in the tucker technology building (no couch, richard) to dig out what was left of a tiny black bug. i think it is very odd that my chaucer class is in a technology building. and i wonder what the likely hood is that a tiny black bug would fly right into my eye at the exact moment i was not blinking.

i love the smell of rain to come. i didn't want to go into my house. i just wanted to swallow all the air i could. i wanted the smell of rain air to swallow me. i looked up into the dark sky and was still able to make out the clouds moving quickly. i wanted them to take me with them, to forever carry me with the smell of rain. i wanted to skip around. i wanted to lie in our fallen leafed yard and wait for the drops to fall, tickling, on my face. i wanted to be washed clean.

what i learned this weekend...

theft is easy and fun, especially when the plan is to return all stolen items in a clever post-it noted wrapped box.

beth, brett's girlfriend, is very cool and i like her a lot. people have said she is "lindsay's abby replacement". as if that is even possible.

hearing your housemate have sex is gross and, surprisingly, funny.

sitting with your housemate and watching way too many episodes of gilmore girls and eating way too much food is fun...only until 11:30pm (not until 4am, sarah).

i should smile more on sundays. i usually frown because monday is to follow. but smiling into the sun is a much more pleasant way to spend a day.

writing is frustrating. writing is fun. writing is frustrating. writing is fun. writing is frustrating again.

my heart is happy when it has a chance to beat really fast.

a walk

i was so frustrated. i was so annoyed. so i pulled on my kangaroo shoes and headed out of my house for a little walk. i wanted to walk everywhere and nowhere. i wanted to get lost, to find a rabbit hole to fall into. i hadn't noticed until i was a block away, but it was raining--the heavy, slow rain drops. and then my sky blue hoodie started to be scattered with darker shades of sky blue as i continued walking under a sky of gray. i then noticed a piece of chewed, white gum on the concrete of the sidewalk. i never understand how people can still throw their gum out of a moving car window or even on a walk, when i think everyone has experience first hand the terrible feeling of stepping on a chewed piece of gum--the stringed path, the sticky fingers, the sad soles. i then saw a missing dog sign. the little terrier of a dog was dressed like a princess. and he didn't look too happy about it. i wondered if he ran away so he could be his own dog, a dog without a crown or frilly skirt. and then i spotted a long string drifting toward the sky with different colored triangular flags attached until it reached the top where a dark blue balloon waved to the cars below, to me. i wondered if the balloon had ever crashed to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, tired of the wind pushing it around. i thought maybe i should take scissors with me next time i go for a walk and set the balloon free. and let him join the dog.

the debster and lucy loo

i am listening to iron and wine and trying to write my newest short story--obviously, that's going well.

last night, i spent the evening with the beautiful debbie. she is my best friend, my other sister. i love her so much. we just sat around and talked and laughed and talked some more. i am always surprised how well she knows me, which is funny because i should be used to it by now. there was a time, when i thought i couldn't tell her everything. i am glad that time has passed. because i know i could tell her anything and everything now, because i do. and that makes my heart smile. i just feel safe when i am with her. and i love watching her ten month old daughter, lucy, crawl around. i love tickling lucy and jumping out behind doors to make her laugh. i love teaching lucy to throw her arms up and slam them down. i love kissing her little feet until she laughs. and i love watching debbie watch lucy. they are two of my favorite girls in this whole world. oh, the debster and the lucy loo.

afternoon therapy session

late this afternoon, in a fit of annoyance, distress, and possibly boredom, sarah sat in my butterfly chair in my room and i sat on my bed. having an i-can't-write-worth-a-shit moment i flung multiple drafts of my recently completed short story across my bedroom. the duplicated stories hit the wall with, i might add, spectacular force and fluttered down to the floor in a heap. sarah, i assume, finding this a great idea threw her cell phone out my bedroom door. we then began throwing whatever else we were annoyed with, which entailed: sarah's suit jacket, matches, my socks with holes, neosporin (first aid antibiotic/pain relieving ointment), and a pair of high heels. we yelled a few times. and then laughed. overall, i felt this session went well. healthy release of built up anxiety. i would recommend this activity to anyone, especially if they have a sarah around.

a note from sarah

dear world,
this is not lindsay. it is her alterego friendsay. i am a good friend to my flat mate sarah. but not flat in the boobie sense, or the apartment sense. but more like a house mate. that is all. goodbye. stop reading this post now. unless you want bad luck for seven years. too late. your life now sucks. ha ha. bye.

the boys are dumb

the brilliant girls that we are decided to give our enemy (aka the boys we post-it-noted) a valentine's day surprise. we filled a basket with candy, baked goods, two really cheesy stuffed animals (one i picked up used at a thrift store that was a pink pig holding a very red heart pillow that read "i'm hog wild for you"), some heart post-it notes, and a burnt cd with two songs: one way or another by blondie and i'll be watching you by police. obvious it was from the "crew" (as they are now calling us--oh so original), right? wrong. they had no idea who it was from. and--drum roll, please--they broke their phase one, which was in fact silence, by asking if we left the valentine's basket and cupcakes at their door step.

it wasn't until this afternoon, after several aim conversations and phone calls and false accusations, that they found the clues placed in the basket. oh boys, come on! at one point, they mentioned that there was no clues at all. hey, we are clever, witty women, we aren't going to be obvious. i just find it very entertaining that pranking them received silence and actually doing something nice, yet sneaky, created a huge uproar. so does this mean it is girls 2 boys 0? i think we just might win this war after all, especially since the wimpy boys aren't even putting up a fight.

i don't want to

it is never a good sign when i want to go to sleep at eight thirty. when i want to bury myself with layers of blankets and pillows in hopes of suffocating my negativity, my constant, irrational record player spinning around in my head. earlier today i wanted to sleep in order to dream. yes, an escape mechanism. actually, the healthiest one i have found.

i don't want to care anymore. i don't want to worry. i don't want to be afraid. i don't want to cry.

it is never a good sign when i want to hide. when i want to crawl into a secret space without another soul or words blaring from another mouth or the sound of cars zooming by, or of dogs barking next door. earlier today i built a fort made for one. yes, a strong, tall wall. actually, the most secure one i have formed.

i don't want to care anymore. i don't want to worry. i don't want to be afraid. i don't want to cry.

this is me procrastinating

last night i went to the mates of state concert with some friends. i love mates of state, so of course, i enjoyed myself--even despite getting lost, an extremely sad friend, and some annoyances. but i kept remembering the first time i ever saw the mates in concert. it was over a year ago in celebration of my twenty-first birthday in austin with abby and audra. and it made me miss abby...a lot. not the self-pity-poor-me-i-am-alone kind of missing abby. but the abby-would-be-singing-all-the-words-and-dancing-around-with-me kind of missing abby. i adore my friends still at school--i do. but none of them are abby. so then i remembered some pedro the lion's lyrics: "if you start without me, say my name as you begin." so i said abby' name...a lot. it was like she was there too, and it helped. and my friends here listened, which made me feel even more thankful that i have four friends here willing to go to a concert of a band that they don't know and listen to countless stories about this girl named abby. and it made me thankful i also have a friend in nebraska that wants to hear all about the night.

i am a lucky girl

cursive is playing on my stereo. i wish i was the only one home, then i would turn it up as loud as possible and dance around my entire house.

within the last couple of days, i looked around at all my friends, all the people in my life i love, and came to the conclusion that they are all freakin' brilliant. and they are your friends? you ask. and that is a very valid question. very valid indeed. but honestly, they are. and i am as surprised, if not more so, as you are by this fact.

richard. i attended his presentation to students and religion department faculty on the phenomenon of biblezines. he was witty and handsome and clever and intelligent. not that he isn't always--he is. i was so proud that i can call him friend. he is one of the strongest men i know. and i know, without a doubt, that he will achieve greatness. because he already has.

sarah. my new housemate. oh, sarah. what can i possibly say to express how awesome sarah is? she is extremely smart and the funniest person i know and beautiful and has incredible taste in men (see previous paragraph). i adore her. she makes tcu happy. and everyday i laugh.

stephani. oh, steph! many times she is my sanity. she is willing to stay on the phone with dell computers for over two hours. she is a brilliant spanish speaker. when she smiles, i smile. i love how we can just talk about nothing or everything. i admire her strength. i value her opinions. oh and she makes the most kick ass salsa.

thomas. two words: computer genius. as my computer was slowly succumbing to a virus, thomas swooped in, supplies at hand, and healed my life source. he is my hero. thanks, thomas, my brilliant friend. oh and he freakishly remembers words in spanish such as las drogas--oh how that must come in handy!

appreciation and unappreciated

this past week i have felt so unappreciated, so unloved. i am not sure why. that's a lie. i have an idea why. but then i remember that the reason is because i am selfish and need lots of attention. and for obvious reasons, i try not to think of myself in such a shadow. so i say, "i am not sure why i feel so unappreciated, so unloved." but now we all know, i do.

the funny thing (funny weird, not funny haha) is that i have never appreciated my friends more than i have this past week. my eyes were open and i realized how much crap i have put my closest friends through. i mean i actually rubbed their nose in this crap for years. and they, these incredible people, are still my friends. they love me regardless. and i will never be able to express my appreciation to these amazing people. let me refrain, amazingly stubborn people. they wouldn't give up on me. they refused to give up on me. even long after i had given up on myself.

and so now, right now, as i listen to one of many cds sent to me from nebraska, recall a conversation in which the purpose was to say i love you and that she had received patience, and another conversation in which it was made clear i was neither a bother nor unloved because she in fact loves me, i realize i am loved. and i appreciate those who clear things up for me when my head gets loud and my eyes get blurry.