question.

why is it that when a boy is pining for a girl it is endearing, but when a girl is pining for a boy it is pathetic?




i am pathetic.

have you ever

have you ever wanted something you couldn't have?
have you ever wanted something you could have but felt you didn't deserve, so you didn't take it?
have you ever wondered how some people can juggle multiple balls or pins or rubber chickens and make it look easy?
have you ever wanted to break all the rules just because?
have you ever wanted to follow all the rules just because it would be easier?
have you ever wished a moment, a conversation would last forever?
have you ever wanted to give up?
have you ever wanted what someone else had?
have you ever wondered "what if"?
have you ever wondered what it would be like to not be afraid?
have you ever wondered what people say about you when you are not around to hear it?
have you ever wanted to turn back the clock and start again?
have you ever lost hope?
have you ever created multiple scenarios for your life and none of them seem plausible?

i have.

preparing our children for battle

as i watched way too much tv over my spring break i was bombarded, of course, by commercials. but there was one commercial in particular...wait, let me refrain: there was one product in particular that made me groan in disgust every time i saw it. the product was a "realistic" video game of world war 2. the player would be able to fight like a soldier, shoot like a soldier, bomb like a soldier. they didn't mention this, but i am sure the player would die like a soldier too. you should have heard the dramatic music playing in the commercial. the way they glorified war. okay, i know they were trying to sell a product and make money. but can children or anyone else, for that matter, really understand the effects of war when playing a game of endless lives and endless restarts, endless pauses for dinner breaks or chores and endless bloody victories against an endless, faceless enemy? why is shooting at people entertaining? why is blowing things up exciting? why are we teaching our children that war is fun, a game?

as i scrambled to do some reading this morning before heading back to fort worth and the dread of school tomorrow, i read this poem, "rite of passage," in my rhetoric text book by sharon olds:

as the guest arrive at my son's party
they gather in the living room--
short men, men in first grade
with smooth jaws and chins.
hands in pockets, they stand around
jostling, jockeying for place, small fights
breaking out and calming. one says to another
how old are you? six. i'm seven. so?
they eye each other, seeing themselves
tiny in the other's pupils. they clear their
throats a lot, a room of small bankers,
they fold their arms and frown. i could beat you up,
a seven says to a six,
the dark cake, round and heavy as a
turret, behind them in the table. my son,
freckles like specks of nutmeg on his cheeks,
chest narrow as the balsa keel of a
model boat, long hands
cool and thin as the day they guided him
out of me, speaks up as a host
for the sake of the group.
we could easily kill a two-year old,
he says in his clear voice. the other
men agree, they clear their throats
like generals, they relax and get down to
playing war, celebrating my son's life.

audra and dark and mysterious

audra called me last night, which was both a surprise and a wonderful treat. i was able to yell at her for not blogging and she yelled at me for not stopping in austin on my way to san antonio this past saturday. she was right. i wanted to stop and see her. and i should have convinced sarah and richard to do it. next time i drive through austin, i will stop, my dear friend audra. i adore our friendship. we can go weeks, even months, without talking and then one of us picks up the phone (usually audra) and it as if no time has passed. we have nice long conversation about what has or has not occurred in the last weeks, even months, and it is extremely fun. she is crazy. i am crazy. if you put two crazy girls together, the outcome is obvious.

forget tall, dark, and handsome. give me dark and mysterious. so there is this guy i see everywhere on campus. he is in a couple of my classes. i see him at multiple coffee houses. i see him at bookstores. i see him on my way home or waiting for friends. every bloody day i see this kid. and he fascinates me. and i can sum up this fascination with three words: dark and mysterious. i know he is intelligent because he has intelligent things to say in class. but he is also a loner. and walks around campus with headphones listening to good music (i know this, because i have overheard). but in his shy-quiet-loner-ness state he doesn't ever make eye contact. i want to shake this boy. i want to walk up to him or stop as we pass each other and say, "sean, i see you every day. i know who you are. you know who i am. a little eye contact would be nice. hey, who knows? maybe occasionally a little smile. i mean, if you happen to be happy or what not." is that too much? i am sure he will think i am weird. but who knows, maybe he won't. and even if he does, i don't think i care. but the day is coming soon. i am going to confront him. oh, but i just had a thought. what if i talk to him and he isn't as cool as he is in my mind? he will no longer be mysterious. he might just be this guy with dark hair who listens to good music. well, at least he listens to good music.

where we all are

today is going to be one of those days. the kind of day where i run around from place to place. first class then lunch with friends and studying then class then class then home then rec then waits hall for gilmore girls night then debbie's then home again then homework then shower (or maybe shower before homework, depending on how bad i smell). then bed. wow. now i feel like my day is already over. and i am exhausted.

my parents are in italy right now. i wish i knew the time difference. i should look it up on the internet, but i don't really feel like searching. anyone know?

my brother is on spring break right now. i wish i was too. then i could sleep in and hang out with him. maybe we would go to a movie or take a long walk with domino and max (our dogs). then i would play the piano and write a new song. then i would read a book for fun--not for school.

my sister is also stuck at school right now. she is working on some beautiful project that is probably stressing her out. don't worry, jaimie. our spring break is only four short days away.

don't worry, lindsay. your spring break is only four short days away.

the friday afternoon dance

i wish you could see me now. i am presently doing the friday afternoon dance. it is different than the reindeer dance and the blah-blah dance. but it is an awfully fine dance. i love friday afternoons; they are my favorite part of the entire week. nothing beats them. there is so much hope, so many possibilities. and i have the entire weekend to do what needs to get done and what i want to do. on my walk home, i had an extra bounce in my step. i even skipped part of the way--no joke. the church bells rang me home. a few fridays ago, the bells were playing "jesus loves the little children." i didn't know the hymn today, but that was okay. it made me smile all the same. even the threatening rain clouds didn't melt away my happy mood. my tests are over. my papers are written. my portfolio is turned in. my short story is finished (!!!). and now...now i can make a little lunch, watch my taped episodes of this week's "lost" and "alias," and get ready to have fun with debbie tonight. ah, friday afternoon, you are the best.

sometimes it is better

sometimes it is better to skip all your classes in order to work on a short story and study for a test.
sometimes it is better to think of the future instead of getting bogged down in the present.
sometimes it is better to drink a diet coke for a caffeine fix in order to ward off a head ache.
sometimes it is better to have dinner with friends and enjoy company rather than worry about the things you need to get done.
sometimes it is better to listen to your mother's excitement than to experience some on your own.
sometimes it is better to call a best friend about word choice, especially when her choice of words are lovely.
sometimes it is better to smile, because...because it just is.