I'm just ankle deep in loose leaf and memories. I'm not sure if I can scrub out anymore of you tonight.
Interesting finds:
Two blank dvds. I'm still solving this mystery.
"Dear Claire (with a scratched out e),
Hope your slightly sickly stomach can handle this. If no, feed it to baby quail coven under bed.
Heart George"
Doodled scraps of papers with near-illegible writing. What I can make out of the mess is this: "Meta conceptual thinking. Flexible mapping between concepts." Huh?
"Conceptional Integration can better explain how children remain resilient. . . then previous accounts of spirituality or religiosity (is that even a word?)" Double huh?
One envelope addressed to 'Clairion'. On the back opening flap it reads "I always have, and always will, love love love you."
I love love love you too Jackie Surpriseme.
"Things That I Love May 5, 2008"
- When my rings slide off my fingers and thumbs. Makes me feel tiny.
- When my cat sleeps really close to my face and purrrrrrs in my ear.
- My summer dance plans.
- Finishing a good book at 4 AM.
- China!
- The fact the Chris Hayes stays up later than I do (Well... at least he's paid of that... but it still makes me happy to know that someone is awake when I am).
- Helaman 5:12
- Much like the Velveteen Rabbit, my grey sweatshirt has become 'real'.
- The fact that the cute boy in Bonnie's ward is wearing black nail polish, and Halloween isn't even within whispering at corners distance.
- June. I still love June.
- The Sunday School teacher in Bonnie's ward looks like a handsome neanderthal-lumberjack.
- Pins (but really only my deceased pink Amity pin).
- Singing 'Maps' on Rock Band; pretending that I'm Karen O in the video.
On the bottom of the Christmas 2008 Mix Tape play list, B wrote, "This is boy handwriting. Not yours."
Do you remember when I called to read to you the following note? I'm pretty sure you won't. But I made you sit down to crunch your tacos in my ear, so you might really hear each word:
"I've had a terribly difficult month... with a lot of things really... but mostly due to the fact that
you and I aren't even friends anymore, or even anything else for that matter. We are nothing. I used to be able to go through life and just be OK forgetting people and going on as normal. But I can't do that with you. I only knew you for about two seconds, realistically. But there was
something in those two seconds that I miss. I miss you and. . . whatever it was, it wasn't surreal or superficial or meaningless or shallow. Not at all. I wanted to let you know this because I'm trying to be honest and life's too short to not tell people that you care for them. Even if it was just for two seconds."
It's dizzying. Atta' girl.
"Sure is smokey in here." Surrounded by scribbles representing smoke.
From Senior Capstone One - Assembling the ingredients to my artistic statement:
'Why do I do what I do?' - To progress, for recognition, for creativity, fear, guilt, love.
'How did you get into your work?' - The feeling of being pretty or active or worth. Teachers push. I push.
'Favorite things about work?' - The ability to say a billion things I never can open my mouth for.
'Words that communicate values or work' - details, raw, real, a canvas of skin and body and soul, screaming, violence, soft sensual, things that I am, things that I am not.
"My family has noticed an alarming interest in dinner theater and modern tween couches."
- Jon Jon 2/25/09
"Things That I Love April 13, 2009"
- Being done with NCUR. Whew.
- My new shoes. Steve M. Mmmmmmmm. . .
- Spring, finally.
- Tulips at Temple Square.
- Holding hands circa 2006.
- Amelie-esq kisses on your brow and neck and side of your mouth circa 2006.
- The year 2006. Apparently.
- Fog all along the East Coast. Fog rolling me home.
- Singing the 'Crazy For You' soundtrack on the top of my lungs to myself in the tub.
- Having a crush on every boy that lives in Ryan's house. Including you, Ryan. (Don't worry, darling I wouldn't forget you in that lump.)
- Pretend tap dancing at the grocery store.
- Dancing on top of 8 crawling people. Wait. (Sitting really, but sitting in style.)
I am a smith of letters and words.
I build small windows into the authentic self, selfish as that may be.
I build small windows into the authentic self, selfish as that may be.
I miss the quail days and wondering every second if you would ever like me and wishing every half second that you would
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