young adult novels

So I had a dream last night that, while not directly related, has really inspired me to get started planning and writing my young adult steampunk novel.

However, it has recently occurred to me that it's been an incredibly long time since I've
A. read a young adult novel
or even
B. been a young adult

SO, in between everything else I'm trying to accomplish, I'm going to start reading some young adult books again.

Here's the list of check-out-ables so far:
* Harry Potter (I know the early books pretty verbatim, but 5, 6, and 7 I've only read a handful of times)
* Series of Unfortunate Events (Have you read Daniel Handler's other stuff? soooo good)
* Artemis Fowl (I've heard good things about this?)
* The Golden Compass (wasn't the "church" upset about some anti-Christian overtones or something?)
* And then some stuff off of this list here:
http://www.awardannals.com/wiki/Honor_roll:Young_Adult_books

And if anyone out there in the blogoverse has some good titles that should be read, please let me know. 'Preciate 'cha.

(Also in the dream was Gary when he was still young and sweet. He asked me if I wanted him to bring me flowers. I said "At this point, it doesn't matter." I'm pretty sure my subconscious is trying to tell me things all the time and I'm just too dumb to figure them out.)

lime and some coconut

Gary dumpstered a bunch of baby limes the other day, so I went over and jacked a bag. I made some kick ass coconut lime bars for the East Floor 2 reunion at Audrey's Saturday (which was a bag full of awkward, let me tell you, but the lime bars were killer and she made some real tasty pulled pork) and used the leftover lime stuff to make two tiny lime tarts.


This one was originally for the Ginger, but then I found out he has a slight coconut allergy so I wouldn't let him eat it. So I had to instead. damn.

I ran into Danna and Lela (and, well, pretty much everyone else I know) at the library today. We went to MM and got pizza and beer and talked about whatever. It was really nice to have some quiet friend time with the two of them; we never really hang out one-on-one (or two-on-two, whatever) anymore. Everyone's always so busy.

About a month until reading day? Something like that? Graduation... it's coming... I did end up getting all my announcements out, though, so at least there's one thing I can check off my list of unfinished business.

I have been listening to The Purple Bottle by Animal Collective over and over and over again.

Can I tell you that you are the purple in me?
Can I call you just to hear you, would you care?

All hung up on girly feelings.

I pretty much wasted my whole weekend.

Well, not really "wasted" -- wasted in the sense Kristi and I discussed, where we all have big projects due to graduate so if we don't spend every hour of the day on them we feel like we're wasting our day.

yeah. but I did laundry, and cleaned my space a bit, and started The Stranger. so there's that, at least.

Yesterday I brought up something to someone, and it didn't really go as well as I could have expected. But it went about the way I thought it would. Sometimes I think I'm silly, and sometimes I think I'm old fashioned, and sometimes I think I just need CONSTANT REASSURANCE! (I'm hoping to get over that.) Anyway, to continue with the clarity, things are pretty much the exact same between us. I mean, which is good and all, and he's made some very valid points, but still...

whatever. what it all boils down to is I still am, and forever will be, a stupid girl. ugh.

sight

I am ready to move out of the country.

but but but.

I love driving into town when it rains softly.




It brings out the colors of the fields.

Yesterday I couldn't help but look at everything, made more intense by the rain--the neon orange of a traffic cone against the dark pavement, the bright red of the wet brick buildings on campus, the candy blue car parked in front of Espresso News.

Sometimes I feel like when I look I draw in some sort of archaic energy from the world (ironic, in such a man made environment). There is a balloon in my chest and with each new angle and hue I feel it swell until it feels as if my entire self will explode out of me in a violent riot of color. I feel my ribs, placing a girdle around my ever-expanding heart and keeping myself contained, intact. The body, precious cathedral for the soul.

I am feeling poetic.

mmm hmm

So I'm feeling a little better.

Took Kristi's advice; read Pattern Recognition again, for *gasp* my own personal enjoyment! Finished it in three days. I can't remember the last time I was able to finish a book in such a small amount of time. Oh, the wonders that can happen when you stubbornly dedicate yourself to doing something *for* yourself.

(I know it was starting to get real bad because even hottie professor told me, very seriously, to "Take it easy" the other day. He said he thinks my baking is good for me. I'm fairly certain, if things got any worse, he was going to be ready to write me off as going over the deep end.)

Tuesday night I finally made those chocolate and butterscotch chip cookies. Daaaammmnn they were good.

More good news: Hottie professor is totally on board with continuing our indigenous Guatemalan paper after my graduation, so I don't have to worry about contributing a lot to that particular project at the mo. And I'm actually looking forward to doing something academic without some sort of sick grade-motivation, for the first time in my life.

Potential good news: Tim says I'm first in line for a job at Earthfare as soon as some other chick actually leaves. Apparently she delayed her last day again. I hope she moves on to bigger and better things soon so I can go ahead and start working before I have to actually fork over a million dollars for my apartment(s).

Not really news, but another good thing: Time spent with the Ginger makes me smile.

Great news: Typed all my graduation announcements on my super cool electric typewriter I purchased from Sir Clark Frazier Hale III, Emperor of India.

I had a conversation with Matt Saturday night about life and schtuff. He, (once again), told me to stop measuring my life as some sort of system of achievements, and instead just accept that it's all a continuous process and that one can't convince one of one's self-worth based off of arbitrary accomplishments. "People are human, we're made to fuck up! You've fucked up, I've fucked up, and look, we're both still here! And we're going to keep going! And that's so fucking beautiful!" (not verbatim, but the gist). Matt is one of the few people I genuinely look up to.

I'm excited for all my friends and what they all are trying to do with their lives. Whether it's going to Germany, or teaching art, or saving mountain tops from being removed, or making music, or just working on their garden and compost.

I am feeling creatively constipated and completely uninspired.

I don't know what happened. The last few months have felt almost like a creative renaissance -- I wrote more poetry and stories parts and painted, while not feeling like I was being forced to do it all for a grade, since coming to Boone.

And all of a sudden---gone. All my energy has completely disappeared. At the worst time too. I still have to finish editing my original piece for non-fiction, write a new full-lengthy, AND I'm a week late on one of our short assignments. I just... I don't know. I can't seem to even get started. Every time I sit down to write it, I just end up staring off into space going 'What the fuck do I even have to say?'.

Emma said I'm thinking about it too much.

Ugh.

For the first time in a long time too my cooking and baking is becoming completely uninspired. I dunno how to describe it; the 'zip' is gone, the love in the act--it's not "cooking," anymore, it's "making food as quickly as possible because I put it off for so long I'm starving." I'm breaking my own heart.

This is a very bad time for me not to be energized. Just a few more weeks, and everything is going to fall apart anyway. Just let me get through until graduation.

x x x

For some reason in the past week past lovers keep randomly (or not so randomly) popping into my life. For example:

* I received a facebook message from Climber, just seeing "what was up." Which was nice, I guess, but I haven't seen or spoken to him in months, so I'm not really sure what prompted this communication... He said he'd be hearing my name around a lot lately, which I'm taking as people saying "Man, I wish it were summer already!" (emphasis on the lack of capitalization).

* Asheville is in Boone. Last night was Kris' last night before he goes back to Japan, so we all gathered together at the Old Bristol Dojo to celebrate our collective friendship. And it hadn't occured to me that he would be there, but of course he was. As backstory: things ended pretty messy messy between us. So, as the night wore on, it was pretty much the first time we were back to being semi-normal friends in about 9 months, and then... he spends the rest of the night openly flirting and then going home with someone... Now, I fully recognize his right to do this, but it kinda bugged me that he threw "easy" accusations at me when he is about 10 times the slut I've ever been (or could ever even *aspire* to). I don't know. I guess I just would have appreciated a little more subtlety. I'm pretty much over it; I'm really happy with my relationship status as it stands in general, and if he was really worth it I think things would have worked out by now. It's probably my ego, now, that hurts more than anything else.

* I did get delicious Black Cat with Gary yesterday. We talked about his MTR petition attempts and whatnot.

I feel like I haven't been having very many deep conversations with anyone lately. I need to be stimulated.

life, in general

Tuesday I was pretty much on the verge of a complete and total school-future-family related breakdown. I (sort of) yelled at the Ginger. He made a valiant, soothing effort of making me feel better. Emma, also, by pointing out to me that if I didn't leave my house, I would remain surrounded by all the work I felt was overwhelming me and couldn't be completed, and I would end up going more crazy. Which is valid, particularly considering the semi-obsessiveness my personality can tend towards. It's good having friends who know you, and know what's good for you. I'm gonna miss the shit out of Emma when she leaves for Germany this summer.

So, St. Patrick's day. uuuuggghh. Went to Mellow, left after I got a cigarette from a friend. Waaaay too many people. I have been feeling a little hermit-esque lately, particularly when it comes to large crowds that don't consist mainly of people I know on a personal basis. So, went back to the Red House, where Gary coerced me into having a glass of wine... which turned into me getting rather tipsy and singing Ginuwine and Blackstreet to the kids. With dance moves. It totally brought me back to the skating rink.

(Did you guys ever used to go to the skating rink? 7th grade, that was the place to meet people. Boys and girls on the cusps of adolescence, discovering the strange way their hearts race when they hold your hand during a slow, couple's only skate, wondering if, when the music stops, the disco ball goes up, and they return to school, their fleeting night skate-love will make it?)

Yesterday was a beautiful day, which I think helped to up my mood a little bit. I. Am. So. Fucking. Excited. About. Going. Outside. Christ. I also caught up on a lot of work that I felt was strangling me. I still have a piece for Bathanti I need to write, which is already late, but that dear man said I could still turn it in. After my readings last night I went over to see the Ginger. I don't exactly know what to say about that situation, except that I like it. More than I was expecting.

Hottie professor and I had a brief chat yesterday, which pretty much centered around the idea that I could do anything I want if I actually put forth a complete effort into it. "I know you," he said. "Your problem is the follow through.'

goddamn right it is.

I think a lot of factors go into this, one of them being that I'm always afraid of missing out on something better. I delay jumping right into jobs because I'm afraid I'll be stuck with it instead of being able to do something that's more satisfying, pays more, will be more excitging, etc. It's like that dream Sylvia Plath has in "The Bell Jar," where she sees all her different futures as pears on a tree, and instead of picking one she wants them all, and they eventually just fall off and rot in her lap.

And, to be honest, sometimes I just don't give a shit about what I'm working on. Take all my current linguistic work, for example. But graduation is May 10th. I don't want to drop the ball right now, of all times. I think if I concentrate more on short-term goals, I'll be able to get a lot more done. For the most part the big picture is still fuzzy and completely overwhelming.

SO, here are a few goals:

- get all my school shit done on time, and WELL
- get a job
- don't eat a bunch of shit that's bad for me
- don't smoke

simple starts.

this week's postsecret

http://www.postsecret.com

off the wagon

Well, I was doing fairly well with my Eat Healthy! initiative, until the Ginger came over Saturday and we drank some brewskies and made pierogies and pancakes. But at least they were delicious, and the pancakes were accompanied by blueberries...

Regardless, I've drank more water and eaten more fresh vegetables in the last few days than I have in a very long time. Great Success (sortof)!

Also: I may have a job at Earthfare. Please cross all your cute lil' fingers for me. I need employment like a good sauce needs heavy cream.

Tonight: finish my "found" poems for Lynn, make a birthday cake for the roommate who I don't really like. BUT, it's her birthday. And birthdays should be special, even if you don't really get along but happen to live in the same structure.

Lately, From the Kitchen

apple stuffed, herb encrusted pork chop
homemade pizza. should have brushed the crust with olive oil for a better, golden brown color. tasted better than it looked, trust me. but it didn't look so bad in real life.

homemade biscuits with michigan spoon fruit. once again, more butter/olive oil would have lent them a better color.

chocolate molten cakes with fudge and berry spoon fruit... mmmmm... these were dank as hell.


my first meringue! there's lemon and lime curd underneath. sadly, I forgot the picture when it's finished and all golden and schtuff...

Goodbye, delicious, creamy, fatty, sugary foods.

In light of this weekend, I have been thinking about my consumption habits, and want to eat healthier. As admirable as Ben and Christian's chili-lemon-syrup detoxification was, I know there's no way in hell I'd be able to do that. But baby steps, my friends. At the grocery store I got cereal and a shit-ton of fresh veggies. Lunch today? celery-cucumber-spinach-carrot smoothie. It wasn't so bad, except for the overwhelming taste of celery, which I don't particularly like but apparently is good for you. Vitamin C and shit.

So of course, as soon as I go "Oh, I'm gonna try and be healthier 'n stuff..." Paula Deen makes a fucking friend peanut butter and banana sandwich today. That's all I've been thinking of since 5:30....

Compromise. I can eat one gross meal a day as long as I have two healthy ones. Considering I'm eating three delicious-but-awful-healthwise-considering-my-addiction-to-cream-sauces-and-carbs meals a day, I think that's progress.

Or at least that's what I tell myself.

PREFACE: don't read this if you don't want to hear me bitch and moan some more. apparently it's my favorite thing to do.

Arrived back in Boone yesterday, after driving 7 hours melting in my car with Emma. Beach trip was... well... jesus christ. Think of the MLK dance party, but for three days straight.

I consumed so much shit over the course of the last few days that last night I ended up on the floor in my little bathroom, staring out the toilet and just praying I could vomit up whatever alien entity was trying to hatch in my stomach. And lying there, cold and miserable, all I wanted was Jodie to be home so she could come get my blanket for me, or for someone I could call to come over and rub my back and pretty much baby me for the night. I like to think of myself as fairly self-reliant, but when I get sick I instantly turn into a whiney three year old.

I don't know. It was just a really sad, lonely feeling. I'm better now, but at the same time, I get that feeling sometimes that it really is just me, that I'm really the only one who's always gonna be there when I need someone. And then I tell myself no, you're overreacting, it's just that people are out of town, if Jodie was here she would have been nice to you, you could have probably called x and y... blah blah blah... but probably just Jodie.

I think I'm just kinda pissed at myself for trying to invest so much time into people who eventually (or, in certain cases, not so eventually) decide that I'm not worth it, and then don't even bother to make an effort to hold up the facade of being a friend. And then I wonder if it's karma, if this is to make up for all the people I may have done that too.

aaaaaaaahhhh people. why do you have to be so complicated? aaaaaaahhhh self. why do you have to be so whiney, and why do you always fall for the obvious tricks?

This is an example of my best day ever.
Yesterday:

* Took a walk downtown in cute skirt-style lady clothes (spring makes me throw away my militant lesbian style for something a little softer). Saw Laura and Amanda and said 'heeeey!'.

* Got an old encyclopedia from Ram's Rack for my first book sculpture

* baked for FIVE hours (this is what convinces me that I could do this as a vocation--if I'm willing to bake five hours straight for shits and giggles ((well, not just shits and giggles, it was the anniversary of the day Matt escaped the womb)) I should be able to do it and get paid for it). I made an apple gallette, lemon-lime meringue pies (oh god yes), cupcakes, and chocolate-cherry semi-lava cakes (semi because the runny chocolate and cherries were in a hole in the top, not completely inside the cake).

* birthday dance party! asstastic dance moves and all the hugs in the world!

* cuddles!

All in all, it was pretty fabulous. And today is shaping up to be pretty fabulous too. It is absolutely beautiful outside, and I'm trying to decide between doing something ambitious, like going out to the parkway and hiking, or something a little more low-key, like sitting in the sun on my back porch and sewing the dummy version of the hat I'm making.

I'm sort of on a schedule today so I'll probably go for the low-key. My dear Alyce gets married off at 6 in Mountain City (haha) and I still need to find shoes to wear with my lady dress.

HAIKU

I saw you last night
but I did not say "hello."
Doesn't matter, right?
-----

I am foolish and it hurts.

-------------------------------
EDIT: Whatever. I'm probably just being all emotional because I'm scheduled to give birth to ribbons of blood in the next week.

ALSO: I think it's ironic that, when I say I've been feeling generally apathetic about sex lately, I have a dream about taking a shower with hottie professor.

(Needless to say, I was distracted in class today.)

For the last few months I haven't seen my body as an extension of myself; I've seen it merely as a patchwork of hand prints, all different shapes and sizes. I'm not happy with that thought. I don't like the idea of allowing myself to be used. And I recognize that's exactly what has happened -- I've allowed myself to be used, either as a one-nighter or a substitute or an in between. And that's not to cast any bad vibes or animosity upon those I've been with, or to place myself in the role of a victim. That's just how it's been.

Tomorrow makes about three weeks since I've been hanging out with a particular gentleman. If it had been even a month ago, I probably would have let him fuck me by now. And though the issue has come up, the answer has been "no," albeit a hesitating no, a no-but-really-yes, a no-but-maybe-eventually. But a "no" I feel like I can firmly stand next to, a "no" that will be not only be tolerated but respected.

For once it's not a maybe-yes-but-really-no, or a yes-but-will-you-still-respect-me?, or a yes-but-who-else-are-you-really-wanting-to-be-here-right-now? I'm tired of being someone else's filler.

I'm not sure if this is some sort of self-actualization and initiation of respect, a more mature view on relationships and sex, or if I'm just not feeling up for it. For the most part, my sexual drive has pretty much been reduced to zero except when it concerns this particular quarter. I think the reason I've been feeling cynical towards sex and love is because I tried to keep it objective when I wasn't really dedicated to the idea; I tell myself I don't give a fuck but really I give all the fucks in the world.

nnnn.

Thank god for snow days.

I am catching up on my reading and editing for nonfiction, and my reading and precis for language and culture. I am also cleaning, hurrah.

This weekend... good lord. Drinking, debauchery, and dildos.

The highlight: waking up Saturday morning and taking a solitary walk on the beach. The sky was overcast with the sun only peaking through at intervals, but when it did the entire ocean lit up as if it were full of thousands of floating silver discs. It was breezy but warm enough to be enjoyable.

God I miss the sound of it.

The ride back was excruciating. We left before ten and didn't get back until 5:30. It rained the whole way, and an hour into the trip Jodie's transmission started fucking up. We had to pull over in the freezing rain at this country-ass gas station to check the fluids and fix shit. Thankfully we made it almost all the way up the mountain before the snow got real bad. I thought we were going to die getting out of Alyce's driveway (40 degree angle, six inches of slush, unplowed/salted) until we got her fiance (henceforth "Cowboy Sam") to wrangle the Blazer back to the highway. Plus during the whole 7 1/2 hour Alyce was hungover in the back seat, vomiting into a trash back. BEST ROAD TRIP EVER.

Last night the ginger called me, with no intention (that was apparent to me) except to discuss our respective weekends. I like that he called. Even though I have a tendency to ramble and then when I realize it get really self-conscious about it.