Been Awake Since 7:41AM

After tonight's text purge, I noticed the last time posted in my secret blog was September 4th of 2010. I know that capturing the actual "text" of a text is the essence, and that it's impractical to leave the electronic message on one's phone, but there is still something disconcerting about deleting the originals.

This weekend was perfect in nearly every way. There is a doodle summary on its way, but I felt so inelegant and unfeminine at nearly every turn. When I encounter guys that I like, I assume that there's no way a relationship could work out, whether personal or circumstantial reasons. It's almost chronic at this point, especially as I've been surrounded by guys in various states of infatuation. I might start wearing make up. I might become a little bit less me (independent) and a little more me (soft and accepting).

Tonight, I felt that I had a purpose and place in life; I could see for a moment what others see in me.

I don't know what I want, but it is the first time in a long time, in a very long time relative to the changes in my life, that I feel free.

The Person I Want to Be

The person that I want to be drinks a lot of lemonade and has a hammock and a garden. The person that I want to be makes eye contact and smiles at strangers on the street. The person I want to be doesn't get drunk. The person that I want to be has skydived and lived to tell the tale. The person that I want to be makes phone calls instead of texts. The person I want to be is in the inner circle of great minds, but not the spotlight. The person I want to be would make 7th grade Chloe uneasy, but proud. The person I want to be sends cards for friends' birthdays. The person I want to be has journals and binders and sketchbooks of good ideas. The person I want to be lives with a lot of sunshine and fresh air. The person I want to be doesn't drive a lot. The person I want to be laughs a lot and spends time with children. The person I want to be can't stop smiling. The person I want to be doesn't always know what's right and doesn't always do what's best, but she owns up to her mistakes and is sincerely acting for the best end. The person I want to be loves without fear. The person I want to be reads Catch-22 and Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close every so often. The person I want to be is crafty. The person I want to be is a little bit resilient. The person I want to be has a big bathtub. The person I want to be keeps a journal instead of a blog. The person I want to be is somebody I've almost become. The person I want to be is always improving.

Heaven on Earth

The name of the Facebook album was "Heaven on Earth," the album that summed up my day in the garden and the dirt with children and the love and discovery and awe. It's my life now, several days a week, and there's a giant quarter block garden in my future.

I'm with people who can avoid yuppie-dom by doing all of their schemes, and I've become their actualizer, the life coach who makes it happen. It's an influential role, even if not in the spotlight. I've always pegged myself on the inner-circle of excellence, but not the star. I love them. I love that role.

All I can scream and whisper or think and speak is thank you thank you. This is the proverbial "good," and the best most perfect movie screen weekend. Stay in my life. Stay in my life.

Privileged to this Life

There's this impossible goodness to my life right now. It's like the future will be lit by Christmas lights and we'll throw dinner parties on our roofs in the late summer dusk. Things are in motion. Philadelphia is the place to be and the people to be with. I saw a StorySlam and the artistry of graphic design. It's moving frighteningly fast. We're a quarter done undergrad and keeping pace. It's warm loveliness.

Owlumni

Tonight was the community garden's fundraiser banquet. We doubled our private bank account, informed the community there's actually non-toxic dirt somewhere on campus, and ate (slightly less than) a ton of great food. Steve came. I everyone I personally invited came. Danielle lent me an entire outfit and did my makeup, and I was adorable. It was a wonderful, wonderful night.

Kira is now in possession of a 9' tall steel bear skeleton- reduced to a Kira-tall bear skeleton torso.

Biking to work was unreasonably pleasant this morning as was watching sarcasm be explained to a three year old girl. Even more so was biking to the fabric district and browsing swatches in the after-work, afternoon sun. Completing my survey of fabric distributors, I headed over to Rittenhouse to bother Kevin on his project. We hung out and talked in the grass for approximately two hours following its completion.

Gab and I made dirt (pudding/oreo/gummi worm) upon my return to campus, with Tina on the assist later proclaiming, "If I liked pudding or chocolate, y'all would have to give me one of those."

I just found and removed the most satisfying split end. I had to show it to Danielle it was so split.

Last night found me witness to an interesting mix of the mundane and the thrilling.

Want to Do List

Aquarobics
Basic Pole Dancing
Juggling
Lecture on Pedagogy in Mexico
7 Poets on Theme of Seven
Magic Garden Mosaic Lecture

Urban Roots
Swing in the Park 9-12am
Kelly Writer's House
Spring Fling

Drawing Comics
Puppets Lecture
Global Education Lecture
Puppets as Avatar
Speakeasy

Belle Epoque
Outdoor's Club
Rose is a Rose on Queen Joesephine
Banquet
Salsa 9-2am

Dissent in America lecture
Gallery Night
Gattaca Screening
StorySlam
Cover Artist lecture

Operation Sing
Leftover Extravaganza
Alumni Band
New Music Symposium/Discussion
Book Fair
Alumni Weekend

Music for Marriage Equality
Socialism Discussion
Rise of the Right
Musical Artists

Sometimes, it's all I can think of, eating a Klondike bar outside that window.
there's a little conflict

White Bitches

Today, on the way to Urban Roots, some guy holla'd at me, Gab, and the new girls, "'Ey, white bitches!" in a generally positive manner. "Did he just yell 'white bitches' at us?" Upon catching up to him at the stop light, he reiterated his derogatory call, "Yeeehea, white bitches! I ain't never seen white bitches around here."

Represent.

More Life, More Love

I'm more or less an unstoppable force.

Beautiful day. Took a risk in not wearing a coat and won big. I'm supposed to have class 9-4 with forty minute breaks 10-10:40 and 1:10-1:50. During the first break, I found that the breakfast meal limit had been bumped $0.40, making a bagel with lox only $.09 more expensive than my meal. Dropped off the tax form request from the $100 scholarship I won through the "Grit & Beauty" contest. Bam. Next class. It ends forty minutes early, so I chat it up with Gab in Anderson about future PJ days and swing dancing in the park until midnight. Class. Lunch. Much laughter with Gab, Kira, and Sam. Ad class wasn't entirely unbearable, as I got 5/5 extra credit problems right without reading the chapter. Nature of Crime also won bonus points as super group, and class ended early once more. I glocked out on the beach with m'cool musician friends, banjo, 12 string guitar, glock, and acoustic in tow. Ben and I got ice cream barefoot. I bothered Andrew and other friends on the beach. Realized it was almost 5. Ran barefoot back to the dorm. Aqua-robics with Gab and Kira. Dinner. Talked to Perry. *swooned* Met Emily's boyfriend after recognizing him from Facebook. Totally cried reading xkcd, but just a little bit. Got mail. Once again acknowledged having the best friends.

Weekend Update

Friday:
As it was April Fool's and my professor was late, my Creative Acts class brought all of our desks into the hallway and finished class as a fire hazard. At night, Jon got us in a prank that threatened the outing but ended with dancing at "the Mad House" in Gab's super adorable dress. It was a lil' bit sleazy, but so was I with my dancing. The night ended with Jon saving me after Kira and Sam exchanged shouts, "You tell him she's your girlfriend." "No, you do it!" We ate Maxi's in 7-11 while discussing the perfect humor of arrested development, table-top board RPG board games, LARPing, and "ice coold coke."

Saturday:
Woke up at 8 to meet Amanda at 8:30. Together with Ti, we ventured to meet Engineers Without Borders, whose president, Poloma, was exceptionally interesting. Our little band walked up to the (unbelievable) Village of Arts and Humanities for their project day. We weeded, spread compost, transplanted hateful, evil bulbs, danced to a performance of Philly Bloco, had a little BBQ, and I stayed a little after with a Drexel poetry student who gave me his business card at the end, saying, "...if you ever need anything in University City." His business card was for cemetery services. The Village is at ~10th and Cumberland, so my solo walk home was graced with the phrase, "How you doing, white chocolate?" And I was doing fantastically. At night, Katy and I got ready with the ladies. She made me a dream journal. It's the most adorable thing, but I didn't remember my dreams last night. At the party, we wandered around. I absolutely loved Killer Whale. Their niche is GameBoy electronica of Katy Perry-esque pop songs, some rap, with the ever talented Bobby on vocals for every song. His performance name for the night was "DJ Glitterbomb," and boy, did I get glitter bombed. My whole chest and shoulders were covered in pink glitter thanks to an anonymous audience member. Yes, there were hipsters. Yes, I did get moshed into a corner during Fat Lip. Yes, they did in fact crowd surf a person in a basement not more than a foot and a half off my head.

Sunday:
Woke up at 10 to get ready. Kevin texted me that he cannot reach Jake and friends. That means Jake and friends aren't up and it's already 11:20 with a planned ETA at Rittenhouse of 12:00. I wake them up. I heckle them into readiness. Kevin brings over a garbage bag full of toast. I pay for their subway tokens, and we're off. So, me and the five gentlemen meet up with Viv in the park on this splendidly beautiful day to give free hugs. It stole my heart. I have hugs to children and puppies and adults and a man older than the moon. We were hugging simultaneous to Lindy Hoppers dancing, so they taught me the basic moves. Back step. Triple step. Triple Step. Back Step. There was possibly a smile on my face the whole time. The boys grouped together to form a roving hug pod. I loved it. We walked from there to the art museum. Kevin and I were a little dismayed to find it wasn't quite their cup of tea, but maybe it's for the best they don't participate in the consumerization of art.

So Vandalous

Through the day I murmur and shout that I am blessed, my holy godless mantra.

I am overly emphatic about that. Last night, even more so. A haze of love and perfect understanding overwhelmed me. Danielle was finally recognized as everything perfect that I adore and am not. She works in a socialist summer camp. She is going to be an elementary school teacher. She is perfectly, wonderfully odd. Even her features and mannerisms convey a knowing in ways I cannot. I was blessed for having Jess that I should wind up with her in the long run. For the first time in a long time, we sat with Tina in her room. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was on, the end, when Charlie finds out what happened to the boy who got everything he ever dreamt of. I felt like that boy too. Tina shared that while she's the skinniest she's been in her life, she's still scared that Jesse will drop her when he goes to pick her up. It was such a normal, specific fear that I'd never thought of, one indicative of the past and society's ideals. It is such a depth of character fear, including the guilt she felt in not being confident. In those moments of listening, I felt utterly blessed to be surrounded by such strong and beautiful women. I was gleefully happy, which amused Tina greatly.

Later, I felt weird about having been so emphatic and childish about my love that day. It was a pure and innocent disappointment, though, like I'd been excited to draw a smiley face in window's condensation, only to realize the condensation was on the other side and feeling crestfallen dumb.



At Outdoor's club today, the guys were apologetic for leaving me behind on Tuesday's midnight pretzel run. They hadn't realized it was a legitimate hipster race from the art museum and felt guilty about leaving behind "the lil' girl." Each of them had approached me individually to make sure I got home okay, but now it's makes for a fabulous story. It got an enthralled audience from the club members who hadn't heard.

Philly Pretzel Run

I can remember the last time I gut wrenchingly stomach quakingly sobbed and choked on my bedroom floor, but not the last time I felt tender and careless romance.

Pitt Parties

I went to Pitt and met Gab's internationally traveled professor grandparents, Bubbi and Zadie. I smoked hookah and in a public park. I found Hogwarts branded by the Carnegie name and knitted through a conversation about our impossible future together as "the lesbian aunts." I slept well and dreamt. I met people and made friends and wished for a return a different sort of pit party.

She Prose to the Occasion

I'd like to try this, but as a wall paper, each part telling a story or capturing a memory or picture.

I haven't appreciated my Christmas or written poetry in so long. There's this notion of the home is where is the heart is and your roving heart and heart as self, but I can't quite put it into the perfect words yet. Another notion is sex and sexuality. I can't pin down my thoughts anymore, what it means to be female and love men and have biological, instinctual needs and realizing that my deep appreciation for the human body is merely an appreciation for the bodies that house beautiful minds.

For everything I do, it's not enough.

I feel at ease with most kids. I never realized.

Sore Feels Good

This weekend saw me backpacking twenty-two miles of the Appalachian trail, sixteen of those in a single day. Upon arriving, kids walked around in t-shirts it was so warm an evening. The campfire was more for aesthetics than practical purpose. Greg scared We made Jiffy Pop. We played Never Have I Ever. We went to a 7-11 in Maryland and got communal beer. Ah, the great outdoors. Sleeping conditions were unpleasant. The first night, I sprawled out on a hill with Sara and Ti. In the morning, we woke up to find ourselves sprawled slightly farther down that hill and also on rocks. However, excitement for the morning cheered our souls, as did the vision of everyone sitting up with their faces popped out of sleeping bags like tube worms. It was a long day, but a thoughtful one. There's this rhythm of avoiding rocks and thoughtless movement. Thoughts were being processed, but not individually examined. I ran through my life plans, and where I find meaning in my activities. I feel less sure of my self, but better about that place. Arriving at our final shelter for the night was some sweet elation. As ladies out numbered guys nearly two-to-one, it was a proud moment that five of us had reached the summit first. Unfortunately, a pack of Boy Scouts ran like madmen to beat us to the shelter. Fortunately, we have more balls than them, and intended to sleep out in the open anyway. Darkness was longed for as an excuse for sleep, but it was not meant for that. Our newly constructed fire pit heard campfire songs for at least an hour. We did not sing exclusively traditional campfire songs. After running out of camp tunes, we included such hits as "Bed Intruder Song" and "Verdi Requiem" (as two of our members were in the orchestral choir). Sleeping was again, unpleasant, but the morning held promise of conclusion. Hiking three miles down the mountain, trodding tender, we reached a near Shangri-La, a four mile flat trail that followed the Shenandoah River. It was gorgeous. The very last leg of the journey took us across the river on an old rail trestle. I napped the whole way home and am sore. Also, I got pinkeye.

Fun Fact: I wore my sports bra straight through 8:30 Friday morning until 5:10 Sunday evening. I was a little noxious at the end of the trip, though the group unanimously confirmed that statement for themselves.

The first guy to ever say "guesstimate" must have felt so cool until he realized the horrible monster he unleashed upon the world.

The Eventual Job

Today during gardening, Becca made me realize that I could one day have a job that I love. It would be similar to my current life, except that I get paid for being so active and involved. Weird.

Going Away to College

I'm obsessively reading through the wikitravel article on Rome. The descriptions of night life include details on the dance floors of every bar and pub near Termini Station. It's almost like I can feel the summer air on exposed shoulders. However, it still has the sensation of irreality. My mind cannot create a believable projection of this exciting future. I will actually really be flying to Rome in two months, five days. I will actually really be spending my early summer in Italy. It's the expectation that I sought for college, except a little more alienating. I'd been to Philadelphia before. I'd even seen Temple before. It'll be a much lonelier experience for the first few days.

The King of Kings

...one Elvis impersonator to rule them all.

I like the old songs where your pretense is adorable for its innocence.

I'm pretty and going to Italy and PMSing and interesting and good with strangers and sometimes a little shy but otherwise really loud and I smile a lot and I know some things and I know there's a lot more to know and that I'm young and that I haven't done anything relative to what I can and there's so much I don't know about myself for being so assured of who I am and want to be and if it came down to flight vs. invisibility I'd fly and if it came down to going or staying in I'd go and that's why I have to leave and I try something normal and let go and let go and let go and, and, grow, because that's the most important. But it still sucks sometimes, 'cuz this time it's real.


I wonder how many inside jokes Randall Munroe has referenced in order to make his friends feel special that he specifically alluded to them in his internationally read comic.

Brain Boops

I can't ever be thankful enough for the people in my life.

There's not enough time for books.

Cuddling goes into serious decline when I'm at Temple.

There are a lot of unnecessary adornments on my desk.

Gifts given to me the past few years have become retrospectively more valuable.

Every time I look at something I like, I think, "I could make that. Not paying money."

"Babies! Babiesbabiesbabies! Babies!!! NO babies."

I'm grateful that my writing class forces me to write.

There are many candles in my room and only the oven to light them.

I learned to knit! I knitted!

Currently, I am very very far from self-supporting, but ever closer to self-sustaining.

A State Patty's Day Story

I was grateful to catch a ride with Bubba up to PSU this weekend. All the return bus tickets for less than $20 had been booked two weeks ago, and it was mostly by chance that I wound up going. We left Friday night after classes and picking up Alexis. Besides early navigational troubles, the ride up went smoothly, with a solid hour or so of belting Lady Gaga and Katy Perry at the end. Initially, the plan was to play "My Cows" for the duration, but a very solid darkness allowed for only one cow spotting, and even that one was under investigation. It was promptly drowned.

Hortense's birthday party was buckets of fun and the whitest party I'd ever been to. After leaving around 12, we wandered over to the McDonald's on College Ave. for the greatest drunk watching experience of my life. At 12:30 am, the place was mobbed with both staffers and students. The ordering system is the most efficient thing I've ever seen, though a number of the too-far-gones are incapable of its navigation. A student orders, a number is written on their receipt, and numbers are constantly shouted out to claim your prize. It was something to behold. Matt saw two cars pulled over for driving the wrong way. What a terrifying celebration.

Saturday afternoon, we got lunch with Matt and his parents, as Jackie was running that day at some level of state finals. It was good to catch up with them, though I'm sure we'll visit again next week on break. We followed up lunch with stencil shenanigans, then I walked over to Lauren's dorm for a surprise Skype date with Kim. Two hours later, Lauren and I met Melissa at the Creamery to induct me into the Penn State ritual. We caught up some and agreed to reunite later for dinner. During the in between, I roughly passed out on Lauren's bed for lack of sleep and woke up in time for food. Melissa has a great group of friends, and dinner made it feel like we were the drunk ones for all of the laughter. Returning to Matt and Jeff, we ventured over to the a capella show for a two and a half hour sing-a-thon. The venturing was part of the fun. Matt's parents send him "silly hats" in his care packages. These hats are exceptionally silly. 6' 4" Matt wore a green top hat that added another 12 inches of height with a beard attached that added at least 12 inches of length. Jeff wore a roasted turkey hat, and I had a spikey rainbow thing courtesy of Haley. Post-a capella, we were heckled all the way down College Ave. until arriving at The Diner, at which point Matt was identified by an intoxicated student as Honest Abe. Nice try. My "dollar per slice" bacon was definitely worth it, and after which we dispersed for bed.

Sunday was generally lazy, catching brunch with Matt and Tarik then heading out. I slept on the ride home, waking up to Bitches Ain't Shit and drowning some muckaluckas cows. It was good.




~I wonder how many inside jokes Randall Munroe has referenced in order to make his friends feel special that he specifically alluded to them in his internationally read comic.