26th 08 - 2011 | comment closed

I’d Buy Me A Love (But Not A Real Love: That’s Cruel)

If I won the lottery, I would feel like I could then do just what I love. I wouldn’t have to pursue a degree in something just to have it be profitable. I could just pursue, with passion, passion. I could start a foundation, I could travel the world, I could stop worrying and learn to love the life I’ve been given. There’s no why to it: hopefully, it would just happen. Poof! Money. No more living in fear and doubt. Not the same fear and doubt, anyway. I could focus on the more important aspects of this, our terrifying existence. The pressure would be on what I did and not how much I made doing it. I could try to just write or direct or be a paleontologist or any of my crazy fantasies. I would know I could provide for my children. I’d still be scared, but I’d be doing it on a higher pleasure plane of existence.

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23rd 08 - 2011 | comment closed

In A Town Called Honah Lee

Music, music, music. Everyone in my family loves music. Though, on my mother’s side, few know how to play, they make up for it with a love to sing. Not for show, not for attention, but together. Some summer nights, we’ll all gather around the old player piano and belt out such classics as “A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody” or “Puff The Magic Dragon.” Most of us are terrible while we do it, changing key and cracking voices, but oh, how it’s fun. Oh, how we laugh. On my father’s side of the family, music is collected and listened to in little coalitions. It is played beautifully for the whole family to hear. It’s a honed ability, an art. Music has manifested itself in different ways for us, but it’s something I want to share with my children as well, starting with singing them asleep.


19th 08 - 2011 | comment closed

Terracotta

Mediterranean Sea at Marina di Cecina, Italy

Image by egonwegh via Flickr

I don’t really know that I’m a honeymoon kinda gal. The first thing that comes to mind is a Mediterranean hillside, its buildings all white, with cobblestone streets free of cars and the scent of low-tide in the air. Wrought iron balconies cast long shadows on the stucco walls… Or something like that. I don’t know if any place like this exists, but it’s the sort of location I imagine around 4PM during the summer in the city. And to spend a week or so of bliss in a remote place like that in Portugal or Spain just sounds perfect to me.

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17th 08 - 2011 | comment closed

We Hold These Truths To Be Self Evident

My intellectual capability and skepticism is my greatest achievement, I’d say. It sounds completely silly written on this weird, slapdash writing exercise, but I find myself pretty smart, in some ways. Just not really the expressing myself sort (which, of course, is how most of us delude ourselves into believe we are secretly so ground-breakingly intelligent even though there’s really no evidence for it at all). But I’ve achieved a level of meta thought that I think is uncommon and, additionally, very self destructive. “Greatest” doesn’t mean most beneficial. But it’s the thing I’ve polished the most and that makes me stand out, when I’m visibly demonstrating my ability. Luckily, I’ve barely touched upon what I actually mean, but I’m sure you can read between the lines and see that I’m definitely like the most awesome person ever. Totally.


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