it's a miracle. (more than one.)

i'm back.

hopefully not temporarily. turns out being angsty and mad at the world/boys (a.k.a. last year) makes for better posts and me wanting to get my feelings out via the internets. but now that i'm not angsty or mad at the world/boys, maybe my inspiration is gone?

nah. i've got inspiration. i just feel silly talking consistently about how much i love a boy. :)

the boy who gave me this ring.

gosh, i love him.

les surprises

imagine my surprise when i woke up this morning and heard birds in the trees outside my window instead of rain streaming out the gutter.

the surprise got even better when i noticed the blue sky and sunshine.

it was even better when i got this album (the one that i had been talking about yesterday) via gift email from pj sparkles (a.k.a. parky poo). (don't tell him i referred to him as that on my blog).

i don't get surprised easily. i'm usually too aware of things that are going on and too suspicious of peoples' motives. probably not a good thing.

these were all nice, serendipitous surprises.
(also, that's one of my favorite words.)

hey goose, you big stud.

i have now initiated a tom cruise appreciation week (kicking off with top gun yesterday in the stifling heat of my apartment).

say what you want about him, but i sort of like him.

again. i blame the missionary.
(what i'm listening to right now? don't stop believing. unrelated. but pertinent, i felt.)

really, he's a fairly attractive man.
despite the fact that he's probably as tall as i am.
i'll overlook that fact.

reminiscing

i was reading in my journals from years ago over the weekend. i found this gem.

[june 22nd, 2005]

"well, if i could tell the missionary stuff, i'd tell him, 'missionary, i like you more than any guy i've liked for a long time.'"
let's remember that he wasn't a missionary back then. but to protect his identity (and my pride) that is, in all reality, his name. and let's also remember i was fifteen. my writing skills? non-existent.

and then this one.

[june 28th, 2006]
"i need to have a real heart to heart with the missionary. i know things need to be brought up in the open and said on my part or i am going to go CRAZY!"

then:

[january 25th, 2009]
"i called him to see if he wanted to talk, but it ended up snowing like crazy and he had family come in, so i couldn't."

and now.
it was sad to read all of that, knowing that i'd have to wait a year, two, even five years until i got my moment. until i got the moment to say exactly what i wanted to say to the misionary.

but that moment would indeed come. did come.
and now i'm waiting to know his end of the conversation.

tick tock. tick tock.

to whom it may concern:

if we could not keep referencing what happened four months ago, that would be great.
and if we could not keep singing this song regarding it as well, also great.
and, since we're on it, stop saying i've been dumped by two major religions.

no. it's not funny.
yes. it still hurts.
no. don't ask for details.
many thanks.

kayleigh

the sting was muted.

"i spoke to you in cautious tones.
you answered me with no pretense.
and still i feel i said too much.

my silence is my self-defense.

[and it was my self-defense.
in that silence, please have heard something.]

and every time i've held a rose,
it seems i only felt the thorns.
and so it goes, and so it goes,
and so will you soon, i suppose.

[you did.]

but if my silence made you leave
then that would be my worst mistake
so i will share this room with you
and you can have this heart to break."

[and you did.]

competition. but not.

i'm mildly addicted to this song right now.
it's making me feel better.
not that i'm not feeling great.
just conflicted.
it's like a tug of war in my mind, but with
strengths and weaknesses on both sides.
stalemate.

anyways.
even though this song may be overplayed on the radio
i love it.

hey, soul sister.

peter pan syndrome

of the limited choices i have when it comes to doing my hair at five in the morning, i opted for pig-tails today.

as i walked to work, i started feeling like a little kid. the pig-tails always make me feel ten or thirteen or fifteen years younger. definitely what happened today.

i felt like i was still in the second grade, learning cursive and collecting erasers i still have most of that collection, by the way. stashed away in the toy box that my stereo has now taken residency on.

i didn't feel old enough to be walking to a job at a university i attend. i didn't feel old enough to have to deal with the letter i got the other day or with any of the other boys namely one plaguing my mind. i don't want to grow up.

learning perfect

i'm studying for one of my classes right now, and this guy and his girlfriend are in the volleyball court, playing baseball.

they are overwhelmingly cute together.
really.

and i'm okay with that.
the perfect moment that i wrote about in october was nice, but it wasn't perfect.
i learned what perfect was later on.
i'm glad it didn't work out with this guy in the court.

the play count is at 117.

that song i posted earlier.
it is my emotion in tangible form. all of it.
the lyrics, the melody, the simplicity
of the guitar and josh ritter's voice.
it speaks of vulnerability. i told you my obsession with that, right?

this song brings many memories to mind.
every one of those words has a purpose for me. a distinct role that can't be replaced by any other word.

it's perfect.

and i've listened to it 68 times since i purchased it 48 hours ago.
it's like that time that i listened to this song 47 times in 4 days because of the missionary.
or like the time i listened to this song 82 times in 7 days because of wyoming boy.
or like that time i listened to this song 59 times in 3 days because of muslim. i'm listening to it now.

baked potatoes and temperature changes

i found myself wanting a letter today. not for the reasons that most people would think a girl would want a letter from a missionary. even a missionary that kissed her right before he left.

no, that ship has sailed. left the harbor many moons ago leaving nothing but settling waves.

mostly, i want a letter for my own selfish sense of closure. my own selfish sense of the past meeting the present, because i think that's all this letter will be for me. or maybe it will be a tender mercy...because despite my lack of attachment to said missionary, his letters do seem to come at the right moments in time.

and as i said earlier, it was a let it be kind of day.

I now present to you...

We have a fish. His name is Poop.

Yes. Poop.

My roommate named him such because:

1. The haiku that won her the fish had a hook about poop and

2. Her brother is Michael.

I'm looking at him right now, and he's moving his fins and his mouth in the gulpy "O" that fishes always do, and it looks like he's moving his fins and gulping water to the beat of "Such Great Heights" by the Postal Service. He is definitely our fish. And I think that Muslim may have had an influence in Poop's musical taste. Let's hope so, because Muslim's musical taste is rad.

tall, dark, and handsome

He was reserved; perhaps taking the role that he gave himself the first day.

But laughing. He laughed, and made me laugh. He was tall. But it wasn't until five days, a confession walk, a blinding light, and curry later that I realized I was crazy about him. And it was because he said things that made me cry inside because I was so happy and he didn't even realize he'd said them.

He just knew.

Taking Chances

Branticus is coming home.

For those of you who read this blog, and for those of you who don't (heck, let's just put the news in the void of cyber space, I don't care) Branticus (a.k.a. Brant) has been one of my best friends since I was 15, and he is coming home from his mission again for health problems, poor kid. I just visited with his parents (my second family....but in a non-"This-is-my-missionary's-family-thus-it's-going-to-be-my-family-one-day-because-we're-going-to-get-married-and-have-lots-and-lots-of-babies" kind of way....strictly Platonic relationship between Brant and I....and for those of you who say, "Yeah, yeah...that's what they all say" well I actually mean it. Period.) and they fed me (of course) and told me how he'll probably be coming home. Bittersweet, really. It'll be nice to have him home, but sad that it has to be under these circumstances. But he'll get to meet Muslim! Tee hee hee.... *girly giggle and a smile*

So, there's a new man come into my life recently. A great man. A tall man, my favorite kind. :) He's a friend of mine from Creative Writing and he started catching up with me/waiting behind for me after class around the end of October, then he took me to the roof of the SWKT, then we carpooled to our Creative Writing professor's house for a party, and the rest sort of became history...(you can't see me right now, but I'm smiling).

It's Christmas break right now, and I can definitely attest to the fact that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I won't go into much detail, but I've found myself missing him increasingly since I last saw him Thursday, which may or may not be pathetic. I'm just scared, because I give my heart so willingly and trust so easily, and even a good guy like this one could back off. I don't know. Gotta take a leap of faith, I guess. What have I got to lose, right?

My Perfect Song

Music is incredibly subjective. What my tastes are probably aren't what your tastes are. But, in response to my previous post, here's the song that I absolutely fell in love with. This was beautiful. The moment it fit in my life was beautiful. Enjoy. :)

Moment parfait

Do you ever have moments that are just...perfect? Life is full of imperfections, and that's kind of the beautiful thing about it, but when those perfect moments come along--they're pretty fantastic.

For me, it was Wednesday night. I was skimming through my Humanities book and typing down my notes, trying to let something stick in my brain for the upcoming test. He was sitting across from me at the table, eating one of the brownies I had made and studying his French book. He was educating me on music he liked, and after one song had finished, he looked at me and said, "This one is going to blow you away."

I looked at him and kind of kept typing. "Alright," I said, with a smile. When people tell me they want me to listen to a song, I usually give it about thirty seconds, and then I make my decision if I like it or not. So, I was prepared to give it at least a try.

It started, and I stopped typing. I looked blankly at my computer screen. It was the most beautiful song I'd ever heard, and it hit me at such a perfect moment in my life.

I don't know about anybody else, but when I go through different emotions in life, I enjoy finding a song that can explain my emotions better than I can. It's like it completes what I can't complete myself. I'd been trying to look for a song that fit in with the emotions I've been feeling for this boy. Not hard core emotions, but I found myself slowly getting more and more involved (I'm a girl...it's what we do).

And when this song started playing...I knew I had found it. The song. I looked up at him looking at his French book, and wondered if maybe he wasn't reading it, but was just looking, like I was just looking at my screen. I wondered if he could kind of feel the tension that was there in my mind. He looked up.

I looked away, embarrassed.

"Good song," I said.

It was like this connection we had, but without saying anything. And although it may have been taken completely different on his side, it was perfect on mine. Absolutely wonderful.