Tuesday, March 31, 2009

[tear] me away: girl crying home

i wish i could take BYU and put it in a bottle and take it with me wherever i go.  then, at any time, i could open it up and be in the MOA, early on a Friday afternoon, wandering in from a long week, beginning my weekend with a little art and the mysterious smell of hot paninis, cheese, soup.  i could be sitting at those solid maple tables on the fifth floor, or the Periodicals, caressing out the last few parts of a term paper about Shakespeare.  i would be eating a Subway sandwich, no, a Scoreboard hamburger and frenchfries with lots of fry sauce at a table in the Wilk, watching people, wrestling a crossword puzzle.  i'd be meeting with a study group while the sun is setting, fifth floor study room, by the photography section.  i'd be in the HFAC, painting long after class ended, tender tendrils of turpenoid saturating the warmness, hypnotized, pounding through the paint with Radiohead.  late night going to Hamlet or Young Ambassadors for the second time, always Smart Cookie after.  i'd sit in Rick Duerden's class on the morning of the final [studying near through the night], composing brilliance i little knew i had in me.  eating Subway on the lawn of Maeser with Brooke, faking like we're studying--cramming--for humanities finals.  ballroom with judd and acoustic explosion...  but back to the library i would always return, after dinner at the Wilk, with a few friends nearby to keep studycompany, Tiffany bringing me a bag of double-dipped peanuts to eat while constructing literarys on California and simulacra, 

these memories are sprinkled with gold, they echo of priceless.

and through all of them is a forward movement, a weight of future happinesses waiting and passing, a clean scent of excitement, a clean scent of home.

i don't want to say goodbye.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

in review: a journey with pictures

this weekend has blissed on in one eternal stretch of joy.  like the road before jack kerouac.

weekend highlights:
--finishing on the road friday morning.  best line: "it was remarkable how Dean could go mad and then suddenly continue with his soul--which I think is wrapped up in a fast car, a coast to reach, and a woman at the end of the road."
--remembering that i really do like playing the guitar incessantly for hours on end, as a result of discovering this.
--pupusas at el salvadorian restaurante
--eating jelly beans and laughing for 45 minutes straight, while driving on the freeway with paigey.
--REdiscovering favorite flavors: lemon, blue speckled, grapegrapegrape, and coconuuutt
--katherine asking it exactly like it is.  honesty: appreciated.  
--realizing that ten years later, we're still doing the same things at sleepovers that we did when we were twelve: eating, giggling, and talking about boys.  and then, once we turned on twilight, realizing that chances are that for those of us who are teaching tenth-graders, we probably spent our weekend the same way our students did: sleepovers and twilight.
--making two new friends at said sleepover.
--freezing to death and trying to sleep at the same time, while tipping backwards off my recliner in the middle of the night.  "No!"
--french toast, strawberries, and powdered sugar creating saturday morning bliss
--fraternizing with Cornelius Carmichael (tennis racquet and all) and Winston Shemerington.  the three of us waltzing into Smith's like we owned the place, Penelope Wimbeldon being escorted by two gentlemen.
--hearing the prophetic ice cream truck, foreshadower of one adventurous day soon to come.
--finding the song they played on npr the other day that i liked so much:  Dan Auerbach, "When the Night Comes".  See here, you.  
--finally washing my car real good.  using the 14 quarters from justin to do so.
--watching eagle boys plant a strawberry patch
--having a dead goldfish thrown at me.  having the dead goldfish thrown at me stick to my shirt.  screaming and shaking the dead goldfish thrown at me off my shirt.  having a watermark on my shirt in the shape of a dead goldfish from the dead goldfish thrown at me.
--the annual festival of colors: hare hare hare hare krishna krishna krishna krishna

--pizza + suns game = comfortable
--making a garrett sandwich
--looking back at a perfect weekend.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

tonight i am prolific.

i drove all the way home today in front of a man on a motorcycle whose sunglasses had become part of his overinflated face.
i kept checking the rearview mirror, one earphone cord hanging from his right ear, turning to spit at the racing pavement beneath his tires.  

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

i am being published.



i screamed for two minutes straight.