Friday, February 26, 2010

Words written on my hand by a wise woman, nearly two years ago.

I guess nothing really matters besides the following:
1. relationship with god family and sometimes other people
2. horchata
3. kissing
You have many of those things. Maybe you just need the horchata.

They are still applicable.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Memory Capsules.

1. Liahona leaving 17 bananas on my kitchen table my sophomore year in college while I was out (to the benefit of a massive banana bread undertaking), and an accompanying drawing on my white board of a stick figure with arms outstretched and the words "I love you this much."
2. Walking home from class with Chris Wallace that same year, and him saying, "Faulconer will give you the history of philosophy and I'll give you the history of rock and roll," and having it be true.
3. Eating cotton candy on car hoods with Abby and watching the night sky turn the darkest blue.
4. Offroading in the canyon with Leland while listening to Dar and sipping hot chocolate.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

A text message from my sister:

Listening to Andy Martin. Someday we will find nice boys.

I am listening to Fanfarlo and Bob Dylan, but hope that she is right.

When I was 25.






Monday, February 22, 2010

I am what I eat.

honey nut cheerios
vanilla soy milk
a banana
laffy taffy

I should eat more things.

Clubs I have been in in the course of my life.

Chess Club
River Rafting Club
Jogging Club
Discussion Night
Club PB&J
Churro Club
Hot Chocolate Club
Parachute Club
Dessert First Adventure Club
Women Talk Women


Concerts I have attended in the course of my life.

Weird Al (2)
Dave Matthews Band
Matchbox 20
Dashboard Confessional
Our Lady Peace
Counting Crows (2)
John Mayer
Frou Frou
Hot Hot Heat
French Kicks
I am the World Trade Center
The Strokes
Details of Speech
OK Ikumi
Death Cab (4)
Taking Back Sunday
Saves the Day
Ben Kweller
Fiery Furnaces
Yo la Tengo
Apostles of Hustle
Peter Bjorn and John
Bishop Allen
Page France
Tegan and Sarah
Ryan Adams and the Cardinals
Shout Out Louds (2)
The Liars
Sonya Cotton
Delta Spirit
Clap your Hands and Say Yeah
The Big Sleep
Broken Social Scene
Adam and Darcie
Johan the Angel
Uzi and Ari
Citizen Fish
Holly Go Lightly (2)
Drew (again and again)
Black Kids
Mates of State
Shakedown at the Majestic (2)
Jenny Lewis
Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band (2)
Beach Boys
Regina Spektor
Ok Go Magic
The Walkmen
White Rabbits
The Low Anthem (2)
Blind Pilot
Julian Plenti
Magnetic Fields

Robert Francis
Lawrence Arabia
Mimicking Birds
Jakob Dylan & Neko Case
Morning Benders
Neon Trees
Forest World
Freelance Whales
Franklin For Short
Kings of Convenience
The Antlers
The National
Boston Pops
Toby Keith

The New Pornographers.
Gillian Welch.
Conor Oberst.
Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan.
Jenny & Johnny.
Bright Eyes.


Wednesday, February 17, 2010

February fourteenth, pt. 2.

This year I lay on a couch in New York City wearing clothes I wore the day before, watching the Truman Show, and eating brownies made by someone that I love and ice cream made by Ben and Jerrys. The brownies were accompanied by song, and carried a single candle in the middle. I blew it out and made a wish. It was 1:37 exactly. The wish came true almost immediately (though not necessarily in the way I would have hoped). A few hours later I boarded a bus back to Boston--the land of cobblestone paths and granite curbs--to the realization that I am always boarding something. I am always in between.

February fourteenth.

Last year I enjoyed:
making this friendship valentine
being this valentine
being with these valentinesand remembering this valentine.

Every book/person I have loved the most in my life.

Lately I wish that everyone I love has read all of the same books as me, so instead of fumbling to explain my feelings, I could say, "Today I feel like Anna Karenina in the scene when..."

Yesterday I might have felt like Levin.

To the person I most wish to communicate with, I would explain, "I am the fox and you are the little prince when the little prince says goodbye." Or perhaps, "I am every character in The History of Love." Then, then I might be understood.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

A memory passed onto me by my brother.

So tonight my coworker and I were talking about how we don't really know what we want to do with our lives. I think she's a year or two older than we played MASH.

He became a radio announcer, in a mansion, with ten kids, a Volkswagon beetle, and a marriage to a girl he used to email in Oregon. She ended up a circus trainer.

The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and that you're standing in the doorway.

The second most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's 7 am, and it took you 4 hours to be standing in the doorway.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

"A the side..rolled over...crazy lights."

Yesterday I boarded a plane in Boston that carried me through Chicago and Denver before arriving at its final destination in Salt Lake City. There I was greeted by my younger brother and my just older sister. Sam took my luggage for me, and we walked to the car, before hopping on the freeway to travel south. I was tired and my stomach hurt, but everything else was the same--the familiar drive, the style of the jokes, the topics of conversation.

We were in the midst of one such conversation when Sam and Charity exclaimed something about lights, and Sam hurriedly steered the car to the side of the road. My first impression was that we had been pulled over, but I didn't see any lights. I didn't see a cop car. I asked them what had happened, "What lights? Why had we pulled over?" They answered in halting phrases, with a matching tremor and urgency I had never heard in their voices. "A the side..rolled over...crazy lights." It takes me a moment to internalize their words, to realize these things just happened, directly in front of us, while I was in the back seat talking about a wedding.

As soon as we are firmly parked Charity tears open the passenger door and runs down the hill. Sam exits slower, phone in hand. He dials 911. I follow Charity. Not because I am brave, or noble, but because I finally see the end result of what she and my brother both witnessed: a smashed, overturned car at the bottom of a hill. And though I am afraid, I think, "If someone is dead in that overturned vehicle, I don't want my sister to face it alone."

I see a small Mexican man there before us, opening the passenger door. Out comes a girl. A stranger. A neighbor. She has blonde hair and looks no more than 20. Her first words, "I'm bleeding." And she is. Her face and hands. Her eyes seem frozen in fear. She moves, but stiffly. Other bystanders are on the scene now. With their collective wisdom and action they help her sit down. One man offered a flashlight. Another blankets. Me, my coat before the blankets came, and face washcloths I remembered only later, and ran back to our car to get. Charity washed the blood from her hands, her mouth, her ear, as she sat beside her, gently caressing her and speaking calmly. She learned that the girl's name was Brianna, and that she was trying to honk at the van veering into her lane, the vehicle that made contact with her. That was the last thing she remembered.

Sam called Brianna's parents after he got off the phone with the EMT. "You don't know me, but your daughter..."

We waited for the emergency vehicles to come.

I thought about life, and death, and accidents, and remembered another day and another hill, when I was the one in the turned over car, the one with the frozen eyes. My family. I thought about how fast things can happen, how quickly they can change, and the timing of it, that we were there. I thought of how amazing my sister is, how calm, and how if I were the girl, I would want it to be Charity comforting me. I thought of Samuel too, who spoke to strangers about something grave. It was amazing really.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Today's to do list.

Wake up in Wrentham.
Eat birthday cake/party cake ice cream.
Eat homemade pizza.
Quote Community extensively.
Harvard Natural History Museum.
Lunch with Max and Betty.
Ikea with Max and Betty.
Buy new dresser.
Watch Blindside.
Eat dumplings/more cake and ice cream.
Second consecutive sleepover with Brian.

Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.

I live a charmed life.

Too early for flapjacks?

Dear Punxsutawney Phil,
Please, please, please don't see your shadow. Thank you in advance.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Once upon a time this arrived in my mailbox.

I could not stop smiling.