Saturday, May 30, 2009
I open up my closet and there is one prevailing color that stands out. It's the dark abyss of blackness. That's right, black has been my color of choice by default -- from my head down to my toes. Yup, I played one mean ninja during school spirit week. So...the black default is effective for one main reason: it hides curves. And believe me, having a plethora of them makes black a very popular color in my book -- or closet actually.
The trouble is, I LOVE color. I wish I could wear all those cute bright summer dresses all the time and look positively slammin. Alas, I will have to content myself with the dark undertones of black, brown and any other dark color I can manage to mix together to make a halfway decent outfit. But I have found out that no matter how much I love color, color does not love me. Won't even give me the time of day. Bright pinks, yellows, blues, and greens look amazing.......on someone else. But the relationship that color and I have does not even border on mutual affection. I take what I can from it -- little snatches of brightness here and there, but for the most part, I have and may always be cloaked in darkness.
So my goal for the summer: completely disregard the spite color has for me, and buy me some bright clothes to banash the darkness in my closet. Anyone down for some shopping?
You and I, afraid of the light.
Dawn holds no power,
Darkness is not adversely comforting,
But you and I--
We are afraid of the light.
Tendrils of mist
Curling through the tangled branches
At That happy hour--
That darkest moment
When the stars are blotted from our eyes,
The moon just a memory.
A blessing. Crisp and pure.
Why does blackness sooth
The senses? Held by cool arms
Sluggish, yet firm.
We cannot see, but breathe deeply
The black, black scent
Sending shivers down our back,
Across our skin to our fingertips,
Making us shudder,
Why does light make
The faint whisper beckoning
From the comfort of slumber.
Appealing to the senses, yet waning,
When we hold the night so tightly,
shunning the sun stubbornly.
Why must we fear the light?
The dawn rises, stretching arms,
Piercing the dark recesses of shadow,
Creeping into our every thought.
Our pores fill with wakefulness
Until we can no longer ignore
The summons. We chase
Shallow pockets of darkness
But cannot escape radiance.
We cannot bear
The heat. Not today or tomorrow.
So we suffer.
For you and I--
We are afraid of the light.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
For those who know me and my wonderful success with relationships, you know that I come at them in a very no-nonsense way. I'm a tom-boy and not afraid to admit it. I love playing sports, beating guys in their element, or at least match them in any way possible. Now, I'm not altogether successful in this endeavor, but I do my best and usually end up earning the respect of said counterpart. All that being said, it doesn't exactly make me a hot commodity in the relationship field. I mean, who really wants a girl who is more interested in understanding the logistics of rugby than make Friday night date plans? Or cooking up a fabulous dinner for two? Which, by the way, I am quite good at, even if I do say so myself.
Furthermore, I am infinitely and hopelessly independent. I always took this as a compliment whenever people would say that about me. I mean, I enjoy being independent and being able to do things on my own without assistance of others. It's what has made me able to stand on my own two feet and take care of myself. Because obviously, no one else is around to volunteer for the job. I believe this independence of mine has inevitably come between me and men. Since I can handle life without the assistance of guys, guys see no need to pursue me. They're intimidated by self-sufficient women. I understand that. However, that knowledge doesn't make me want to become a damsel in distress in the slightest. I like being in control of my life (as much as humanly possible), and having to answer to a man every time I want to do something does has its drawbacks.
So the consequence: I am left without a single man's interest.
My response: I'll survive. I'm not putting my life on hold if you can't keep up with me.
Harsh, I know. Believe me, it comes as a result of years and years of being "just Lissa" (as my friends say).
Okay, this exceptionally long back-story culminates in one sentence said to me on the dance floor last night. It was alumni weekend, so there were a lot of ruggers around to celebrate, drink, play some rugby, and basically have a great time. We had finally moved our dwindling gathering to Lenora's for some dancing and drinking. Let me state this as clearly as possible: I am a horrible dancer. Always have been. Always will be. To make up for that, I usually do my own little free-style dancing and shaking on the floor. I may be awkward, but at least I have fun, right? Well one of the guys with us came up to me and we started dancing. Not regular dancing where we each do our own thing, but take-my-hand-and-let's-put-a-few-dance-steps-together thing. He kept trying to spin me, or spin himself, but I do not know how to take signals from guys (literally, as you can see). Finally, in exhasperation he said, "Just let me lead!" And my lame response, "I can't dance." Meaning, "I don't know how to follow your lead."
Anyone see the symbolism? Irony?? This is why I have no love life: I can't let a guy lead. And I'm too stupid to see when he's trying. Thank you my dear dance partner (who will remain nameless) for pointing this out to me so tactfully.
Maybe I wasn't meant to be a dancing partner. Maybe I was supposed to be a solo dancer this whole time, and I didn't realize it. Until last night.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Aside from pizza and fried chicken, pancakes are probably the only other food that can be eaten at any time day or night and still be amazing. I have many fond memories of pancakes -- their warm, bready smell, their light golden brown skin and soft fluffy insides, always served with peanut butter on the side -- yes, they are delicious, and somehow exciting when eaten for dinner; but having just finished off three pancakes, I'll tell you about my morning instead.
You see, I enjoyed my Saturday in the best way possible: by sleeping in until almost eleven. It doesn't happen very often (even on the weekends), but after watching Hugh Jackman on the big screen until 2 in the morning, I allowed myself the luxury. So what did I do when I woke up? Besides making breakfast memories? I watched Hugh Jackman again in the only film I own of him -- Someone Like You. I gotta say, it's been a while since I've seen it, but it still makes me smile. Of course Ashley Judd's theories of men and relating them to cows is completely off-base, but it does make one think......are men simply looking for the next new "cow"? Do they get bored seeing the same face day after day? Is it the woman's job to constantly reinvent herself just to make her pleasing and exciting? Will there conveniently ever be that devilishly nice guy who will sweep me off my feet and surprise me with his not-so-womanizing ways?
And then reality answers with a resounding NO. Call me a pessimist, or a realist, or an unbeliever -- whatever -- but I would love to be proven wrong. Oh sure, I believe in nice guys -- I know plenty of them -- and I believe in cads. But how often are they rolled up into one great person?
But don't worry, I'm not as negative as I seem. :) Listening to the rain outside makes me happy. It has a calming effect. And knowing I'm safe and dry all curled up on the couch makes me even happier.
By the way, they were blueberry pancakes that I had for breakfast. And I dropped an eggshell in my solitary egg. It was supposed to be over-easy, but the yoke broke immediately. It still tasted delicious.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Last night at the coffee shop word spread through the music crowd that the WOU campus was being shut down for Friday and Monday on account of a possible swine flu outbreak. It always amazes me how people know about these things late at night and still manage to tell everybody about it before school the next morning. Well this little bit of news doesn't help me at all since I don't have classes on campus on Mondays or Fridays anyway. So it's business as usual. I woke up this morning at 6:30, hit the snooze a couple times, then finally rolled out of bed. I had been expecting a phone call or email telling me school was cancelled and I shouldn't come to school today, but no amount of wishful thinking made my phone ring.
I got to school on time and asked one of the other teachers why school wasn't cancelled, and here's what she had to say: "Well these things happen, and we get these scares every once in a while. I think administration has just stopped paying attention. We're 90% sure it's a hoax, so it's no reason to cancel school." Needless to say, I was a little confused. Since when has there been another swine flu outbreak? Who would make these things up? Apparently, she informed me, a bomb threat was discovered yesterday afternoon stating a bomb was going to go off at 9:24am today. This note was found in the women's bathroom. But hey, it's just a hoax, right? No need to cancel school for nothing -- especially since we wasted so much time with snow days earlier in the year. The appropriate solution: a fire drill at 9:20. We'll pretend it's just a random fire drill (since we need to do them once a month anyway, and it's the first of May so let's get it over with early), usher kids outside, call the bomb squad and police dogs to sniff out this supposed bomb. After that's taken care of, let's get back to work.
Good thing for me, the vice-principal pulled me aside and said I needed to go home because I am a WOU student. We're all contaminated, I guess. Fortunately for me, I didn't have a hard lesson planned for my mentor teacher to execute, but still that's two days that I will not be present to go through my lesson plans the way I want to. And Monday is the first day of my full work-sample. I can't even be there for my "official" teaching.
Just to recap, not only is the neighboring college shutting down school for two days because of a possible swine flu case, but there is also the threat of a bomb at the high school. But let's not cancel school. This isn't enough of a reason for missing out on seven hours of mindless slouching in chairs and tuning out of teachers. This is the world we live in folks. Yes, this all happened by 8am.
Final note: While walking home from the coffee shop, one of my students drove by pointing at me and shaking his head. Yes, I did skip his class. But school isn't out yet....does that mean he's skipping too?