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we should cross paths more often
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| sestina, this makes me happy |
[07 Jan 2008|10:50pm] |
i like spending time with you.
i feel speechless but calm and buzzy.
you're good at math;
you know that speechless + calm + buzzy = this weird kind of nervous.
i laugh. you are so good at math. i wonder
what you know. i try to just sit still and keep it neat.
now that i know neat
is for you
what cool is for me, i don't wonder
if i should laugh or not when you say it. instead i just get buzzy --
and nervous.
it's like being little in math
class all over again, back when math
meant double digits in neat
little boxes. cross out the four, carry the one, try to forget to feel nervous.
you are brave. you are adorable. i want to hug you, explore you.
we talked about that crazy, buzzy
feeling girls get -- you used to get it, too. that is how i’ve felt, and it's pretty wonder-
ful just to feel it. but i've got to wonder
how long i can go sitting in the back of this math
class staring at the wall, wishing all this buzzy
calm nervousness could be more neat
and less tall. i like sitting next to you --
don’t get me wrong. i'd just like to not be nervous
sitting next to you, is all. when nervous
i'm ridiculous. i wonder
what you'd say if i asked you
out to for a study date. i could practice math
while you memorized some words. would you say, "neat"?
would you say, "nope"? i spin. i'm spun. i'm buzzy.
i hope. i'd like this part to be done please. i'd like to speak to you with ease, not this buzzy,
nervous,
feeling. but you are near and you are neat
and you are wonder-
ful. you are so good at math.
i would like to be that good with you.
needle in the haystack, this is all to say: what gets you up and buzzy?
what's your favorite time of day? what's the math that makes you nervous?
where's your wonder? what's your purpose? everything all is neat to know someday.
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| passive-aggressive me |
[20 Sep 2006|02:35am] |
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please don't be made at me if i'm late. it only makes me act out in horrible passive-aggressive ways such as continuing to showing up late. such a vicious cycle. please. i come in peace; i seek compassion.
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| i love you, margaret atwood |
[21 Mar 2006|01:33pm] |
"The truth is that very few understand the truth about forgiveness. It is not the culprits who need to be forgiven; rather it is the victims, because they are the ones who cause all the trouble. If they were only less weak and careless, and more foresightful, and if they would keep from blundering into difficulties, think of all the sorrow in the world that would be spared."
Margaret Atwood
_Alias Grace_
p. 458
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| mysteries and math |
[09 Mar 2006|11:30pm] |
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On the first day of 3rd grade I walked into the wrong math class. I was in a shared classroom with two teachers, one taught one side of the room and the other taught the other side (hmm, I actually always thought this was due to lack of space in our school, but maybe it was actually some kind of team-teaching). Anyway, I walked into the wrong side of the class and sat down. The teacher for the side of the room I was in didn't call out my name from her class roster, but the teacher on the other side of the room did call my name. I was so embarrassed once I realized my mistake, that I didn't speak up. I always thought it was weird that neither of the teachers switched me. Once I was there, that was it. And that was the first year I ever struggled in math. Why didn't one of those knuckleheads figure that out? Why didn't I speak up when I heard my name?
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| insert cheesy love song here.... |
[24 Jan 2006|01:08am] |
all about young love, the 80's provided us with some of the most sincere pop music ever created:
true blue (by madonna)
take my breath away
true (the one by spandau ballet)
i'll stop the world (and melt with you)
in your eyes
love cats
you are the everything
............
those last two aren't really cheesy. those would be ones i would mean. joyously, i could quote them without irony.
............
definitely the best decade in which to have been a moonie-eyed teenager
[wow, i could never translate that sentence into spanish].
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| why i am the amelia bedelia of my school... |
[14 Jan 2006|05:40pm] |
1. last week i nearly burned down the school with a bag of over-cooked microwave popcorn (so if you're only supposed to cook it for 2 minutes, then why does the bag say 4 minutes? why? why? why?).
2. while reaching up to return a box of envelopes to a really high shelf in the office, i nearly gave someone a concussion when the boxes fell on her while she was on the phone.
3. i have fallen, tripped, and bumped into shelves, corners, and people so many times that my advisees hardly chuckle when it happens now.
4. i have no idea where any books are. okay, this is partially due to the fact that the school as been accepting book donations for the past two and a half years and no one ever kept a list of what we've got and where it can be found, but still...i'm the one whe ends up looking like an idiot when people come to me asking where the school's copy of "memoirs of a geisha" ended up. way before my time, people...i have no idea.
5. before one papercut can heal, three more fresh ones magically appear...how come no one warned me about papercuts in grad school? how do other librarians deal? oh, right, they're not bumbling idiots...
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| ollie, ollie oxen free... |
[03 Nov 2005|10:44pm] |
one of the weirdest things about having a cat (last thursday i found a cat) is that i'm actually really liking him. i thought i wasn't a cat person because the last cat i tried to adopt and love a lot totally annoyed me. and after having the best dog ever for 12 years, i wasn't sure i'd ever want another pet, at least not while living in the city. but this cat is so cool. he's perfect. it's like someone wrote the manual on how to be a good cat and he totally memorized it. and he's such a cat. he's not trying to be a dog or trying to be a baby or a bully. he's just a cat. he immediately knew how to use a litter box. he sleeps in a ball. he purrs. he plays with string. i totally like him.
"please sir, give me some more."
i named him ollie.
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| what i finished yesterday... |
[31 Aug 2005|10:26am] |
yesterday i finished How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff...and seeing as summer has less than a week left, i'm betting it's going to end up being my favorite book of the summer.
it's the story of Daisy, a 15-year-old annorexic girl from the upper east side, who gets shipped off to visit her long lost british cousins for the summer. along the way england gets taken over by terrorists, and she ends up staying all year due to war-time travel restrictions. before the take-over Daisy and her mind-reading cousin, Edmund, develop an attraction for one another. then right before all hell breaks loose, they go ahead and fall madly in love with each other. none of this seems particularly crazy to Daisy considering that A) they've been relatively unsupervised and living it up on their own ever since their mom/her aunt has been away on business and unable to make it back home, and B) they're living in the country-side and not really all that effected by the war anyway. once the war does heat up, the cousins get separated, and the remaining 120 or so pages are equal parts survival tale, love story, war saga, and coming-of-age story skillfully rolled into one.
Daisy's narration is what makes this novel so compelling. she is observant, precocious, brave, and most of all, hilarious (imagine david sedaris as teenage girl). in many ways How I Live Now is a lot like that movie 28 days later...subtract the zombies, add more teenagers, and read, read, read!
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| lost in the city.... |
[16 Aug 2005|11:25am] |
here's a sad, sad list of what i've left on trains or forgotten in cabs over the past two years:
1. my purse with EVERYTHING in it (cell phone, calendar, wallet, lisence, social security card, atm card, credit cards) left in a cab on the way to laguardia (miraculously returned to me by the cabbie when i got back from the trip!)
2. totally cute purse i made myself left in a cab in midtown as i exited too quickly on christmas day (gone forever!)
3. bag with my favorite jeans and awesome black sweater as i exited a cab in midtown too quickly (neither have been replaced, sniff, sniff)
4. brand new pants, sweater, shirt, socks (bought and lost on the same day!!!) left on the N train on my way to work
sad, sad list!!! please stop getting longer!
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| voxtrot |
[13 Aug 2005|12:41pm] |
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they sound like what would happen if maritime and the lucksmiths had a baby band and then that band grew up to have a baby with morrissey and get babysat by the killers.
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| hoping. yes. knowing? no... |
[21 Jun 2005|01:03am] |
it's not that i didn't want to know. i'd just rather tell myself i love the story so much; i love the writing of it, too. always the travel, never the destination.
i did love the gathering of clues and the scattering of ends: the tension and the possibility of questions...the pulling of thumbs and the making of wishes.
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| may scarf |
[26 May 2005|12:49pm] |
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yesterday i was so cold that while walking to meet a friend for dinner, i had to stop and buy a fluffy warm scarf on st. marks because my shirt,sweater, and jacket just weren't cuttin' it. this planet is so f'ed up. only years ago may was one of the easy breezy spring months. WTF??? WTF!!!
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| "it must just be the colors and the kids... |
[21 May 2005|02:07pm] |
...'cause the music is boring me to death..."
and by music, for me, at least, at this particular time, i mean anything i'm having to do out of obligation rather than desire. this is when i've got a match in every back pocket and i'm just hoping the right time never comes. this is when most bridges get burned.
"live in fragments no longer. only connect, and the beast and the monk, robbed of the isolation that is life to either, will die."
e. m. forster, howards end
"...only connect..."
"...only connect..."
"...only connect..."
okay...good advice, eddie. i'll see what i can do.
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