Tag Archives: silly

College’s Best-Kept Secret and How to Overcome It (I think)

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Here are some reasons that I haven’t written in a while:

1) The next “favorite” on my list was favorite people, and when one really comes down to it, how does one write that entry? Could get a bit touchy, you know?

2) I’ve been working. Mopping floors and filing papers—quite enviable.

3) I’ve been writing. A little story for the new Mr. and Mrs. Upper along with the beginnings of something much longer.

4) I’ve been watching Good Mythical Morning.

5) I’ve been reading Suri’s Burn Book.

6) I’ve been slacklining. (Excuses are wearing thin at this point…)

7) Mainly, I just haven’t.

Before college the inhabitants of every corner of the earth converge to give you conflicting and vehement advice, but there’s one thing no one ever tells you. Unless you’re one of those mission driven people who gets an internship or works at a camp (and if you are, that’s fine, I still love you) then here’s college’s best kept secret: SUMMERS ARE WEIRD.

It goes like this. You come home and you think “Oh! I’m home! It’s summer!” and then you do nice home things and you go to work and you come home at the end of the day and you think “Oh! I’m home… Where is everyone? Oh. It’s summer.”

And that’s when it hits: you thought summer was going to be like partying inside of instagram, but it’s really more like sitting in your messy room looking at everyone else’s instagram, which you’re pretty sure (but not positive) that they’re all inside of partying without you.

So here’s some suggestions for my fellow weird-summer enthusiasts (or not so enthusiasts):

1) Read your summer books aloud: to your friend, to your cousin, to your teddy bear, to yourself.

2) Look up all those quotes whose origin you’ve never actually known, for that satisfying feeling of I-once-was-wrong-but-now-I’m-right.

3) Dry your laundry on the clothesline.

4) Go for a run in the heat, come home and say, “Welp, I did THAT.”

5) Turn halfway down the stairs into your regular hang-out spot.

6) Paint a room alone. Write secret messages in large letters then cover them up and giggle.

7) Try on old clothes and sit around in them for an embarrassingly long time.

8) Drive. Be loud in the car in whatever way you can think of.

9) Go to the farmers’ market on week days to make the venders feel loved.

10) Make lists. Surprisingly easy and surprisingly fun.

Do this and you will be left with a sore throat, extraneous knowledge, nice smelling clothes, a bunch of lists and no pictures or gas. Summer well spent.

Favorite Clothes

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Sometimes people give me old clothes. I really like that. They tell me “This just looked like Alice,” which is flattering. Apparently I have a style. I am distinctive.

But then sometimes, I look closer at whatever they’ve given me and I wonder, “Really? That screamed my name to them from the back of their closet? Or did they just think ‘Oh. A dress. Alice wears dresses. She’ll take it.’”

Because I’m that girl. I’m a take-that-last-cookie-so-you-can-wash-the-container and take-that-dress-I’m-sure-I’ll-wear-it-tomorrow kid. I cannot resist good clothes. I avoid going to Goodwill when I’m broke because it makes me sad, and I never even look at stuff retail anymore because I get so indignant that I’m actually being charged for it.

So maybe what I end up with is a little eclectic. This is not to say, however, that I don’t have opinions. I have lots of them. Most of them are about things I love, but there are a couple strong negative ones, which I think I’m going to go ahead and share. This is the internet after all. It’s time I offended somebody.

Uggs are ugly. This should not need to be said. They are even uglier when stained with road salt. And ugliest when worn with basketball shorts, as I saw a man do in Long Beach a couple years ago.

Do not wear cargo shorts. Ever. Please don’t even ask about cargo pants. The only legitimate excuse I can come up with for such behavior is if you use all of those pockets on a regular basis, in which case, you look truly strange, but more power to you.

Maybe you think you don’t care about clothes. This entirely untrue. Even my little brother cares, evidenced by the fact that he stubbornly refuses to wear the wonderful bomber jacket my mom got him a couple years back. What you wear matters. I don’t really mind too much that he won’t wear it though, because that means I get to.

In other coat news, more men should wear pea coats. I know women are attempting to dominate that market now, as they do almost everything, but they were originally worn by sailors. So if you want them, which you should, take them back! Don’t be afraid.

Then there’s the marvelous silk one from my Grandma’s closet which I’m only just now beginning to gain confidence about. I did wear it to a wedding, though.

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Final coat of note: my leopard fur (faux.) My Grandma and my cousin have matching ones, and I like to wear mine to entirely inappropriate occasions, like a low-key hall Christmas party.

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If a certain piece of clothing is my favorite, I will wear it nearly anywhere. This includes my polka-dot dress which I wore to pack up last year, and my eyelet lace graduation dress which I nearly ripped playing Frisbee a few weeks back. Oops.

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There’s also the brown leather and black suede skirts which I found with Hannah at Goodwill at different times. The suede particularly tends to show up in all sorts of odd places.

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And the hound’s-tooth jumper that used to be my aunt’s has run the gamut from Italy to Storytime.

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Then there are sweaters. Sweaterssweaterssweaters. Big, cozy, versatile sweaters. Here is a sampling of my favorites:

Black, courtesy of United Airlines, for not swimming:Image

Green, the one Emily Van Vranken loves, for wandering:Image

Orange, cashmere for fall, for crowded couches:

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Dad’s, for lazy days and flat cakes:

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And blue, my favorite, for pizza and everything else:

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I’m also a huge fan of anything with a waist. (I assume we all know what a waist looks like…) They are the key to success. So get thee some belts and high-waisted skirts and maybe even some high-waisted pants, and have at it!

Then there’s Family Pantry gear. Obviously. (Kevin is spending the summer with me, if anyone wants him.)

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I like clothes that remind me of people I love (i.e. everyone above). Maybe that’s really why I love hand-me-downs so much. They come with people and stories attached. They come loved and lovable. It is easy to forget that they’re factory made. I do care how they look, but maybe not quite as much as I like to pretend I care. Because sometimes I reserve the privilege to unapologetically wear something really hideous. Just because it sometimes makes a bad day better.

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Twenty Things About College

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1)      You have a roommate. She plays harp and draws you comics and dances around and talks to herself and is generally wonderful. But you’re very different in a lot of ways, and sometimes what with being in a small cinderblock room together for a very long time you yell some. And maybe get a little sarcastic. But then things boil down, and get understood, and you hug and giggle and go to dinner.

2)      Laundry quarters are a commodity.

3)      You have other friends too, and some weeks you are especially thankful for them. For things like being hospitable and patient, or accomplishing wonderful, commendable things, or just displaying a whole lot of goodness. Because those are the sorts of things people do in college, sometimes.

4)      You have school work. This involves professors and classes and pens and papers and computers. People still whine about their work, and you wonder why they came to college in the first place. You read some poetry and write some essays and learn a lot. You spend time contemplating the nature of humanity. Sometimes grades are connected to money, and it makes you angry and scared and sad.

5)      You don’t always get enough sleep and it’s not always your fault.

6)      You save tables with wallets and IDs and learn recognize all your friends’ stuff so you can plop yours down next to it, even if they’ve gone off to get food.

7)      There is no privacy. Because even when you are in a room by yourself you can hear people talking on the other side of the wall, and it’s not like there’s phone reception anyway.

8)      There are couples. I don’t really want to talk about that though. Take Courtship and Marriage and Dr. Thrasher will inform you.

9)     You have many long conversations with friends about your families. Also really good food.

10)   You’re constantly doing that thing where you meet people for the first time, and have to pretend you don’t already know their entire life story because they’re the friend of a friend or just plain famous and you’ve looked them up in the campus directory. It eventually becomes kind of comedic, so you tend to get giggly and awkward when you meet people.

11)   Tea.

12)   You look forward to weekends even more than you did in high school. (You’re worried that this attitude will only escalate throughout life. And you don’t think it’s healthy.)

13)   You still think poop is funny. Somewhere in your soul you will always think poop is funny.

14)   You really like intercampus mail. And sometimes you find an old packet of popcorn and write a random box number on it, drop it in the slot and giggle all day long.

15)   Sometimes you go exploring and this happens. Continue reading →

Happy Heart

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I missed a week. I’m sorry. In the meantime I have been thinking deeply about blog ideas. I thought about writing about going running, about heartsickness, about boldness and hypocrisy, about summer jobs, about Hopkins and Emerson, and about the letter V. So here’s that blog entry:

I’m bad at going running; heartsickness sucks; I am not bold, but I am often a hypocrite; I need a summer job; Hopkins and Emerson are marvelous to read; and the letter V is very passionate.

But the blog entry I’m going to actually write you today goes something like this:

I have a folder on my desktop called “Happy Heart” and it is full of other folders which are full of pictures.

My dad took this in July when he ought to have been packing up the car so he and Mom could leave Brookfield. I had just been a mechanic and gotten the belt back on the mower. Also, don’t you love the lake? I miss it.

I love this person.

This is my backyard–mostly my mom’s garden. It was my desktop for a while.

This is my French professor from last fall and my current Symbolic Logic professor. They’re married to each other, and I’m sure they have no idea I’m in possession of this picture.

This is cool.

These are some of my cousins and me on my grandpa’s eighty-sixth birthday. We ate pie and I like them. This was my desktop for a while too.

I love this person too.

This is my dad and my grammy. I like their faces.

We have Storytime tonight. In Heidi’s room. And it’s gonna be  Just. Like. This.

Cavern

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Sometimes it is hard to start to write. You sit and your fingers itch. And you want and you want and you want. But you don’t write. Because your brain is only coming up with one word at a time, and none of them are related or even remotely interesting.

It isn’t writer’s block really, it’s more of writer’s cavern. You see this cave which looks dreadfully interesting, and you know you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t drop everything to stop and explore, so in you go. The deeper you go into the empty darkness of your little subconscious, the more determined you are to find some marvelous treasure which will become the fiery core of some soul-searing novel. But all you find is the soup you had for dinner and the dog at your feet. So you sit down on a rock and think and think about these things and their philosophical implications, but you only come up with two words: “SOUP” and “DOG.” You get very annoyed and decide instead to write about how it is to write. That’ll show the dumb ol’ cave!

A while back I found something somewhere online called “Bernadette Mayer’s Writing Experiments,” and I find some of them intriguing.

Diagram a sentence in the old-fashioned way. If you don’t know how, I’ll be happy to show you; if you do know how, try a really long sentence, for instance from Melville. I don’t know how. Please show me. Also, I think I ought to read Melville. Just for kicks and giggles and bragging rights.

Take a traditional text like the pledge of allegiance to the flag. For every noun, replace it with one that is seventh or ninth down from the original one in the dictionary. For instance, the word “honesty” would be replaced by “honey dew melon.” Investigate what happens; different dictionaries will produce different results. This sounds like brilliant fun. If  I had a dictionary handy I’d be rewriting the entire Preamble right now.

Set yourself the task of writing for four hours at a time, perhaps once, twice or seven times a week. Don’t stop until hunger and/or fatigue take over. At the very least, always set aside a four-hour period once a month in which to write. This is always possible and will result in one book of poems or prose writing for each year. Then we begin to know something. I ought to do this. I will do this. Ready, set, go! November 5th or 12th. (But I know hunger will get me before the four hours does…)

Write the poem: Ways of Making Love. List them. I feel like if I wrote this poem…it would be very short. And boring.

Write occasional poems for weddings, for rivers, for birthdays, for other poets’ beauty, for movie stars maybe, for the anniversaries of all kinds of loving meetings, for births, for moments of knowledge, for deaths. Writing for the “occasion” is part of our purpose as poets in being-this is our work in the community wherein we belong and work as speakers for others. This reminds me of my dad which is great. Also, do you know how many people wrote poems about Wordsworth? A lot: Coleridge, Browning, Shelley, even Matthew Arnold! It’s rite of passage or something. I guess I better get on that.

Write the longest most beautiful sentence you can imagine-make it be a whole page. This sounds incredibly exciting and clause-y. Tomorrow maybe?

Write poems that only make use of the words included in Basic English. I don’t know what Basic English is, but I’m going to find out. And I’m going to perform this feat. (Except maybe not with a poem…)

Trade poems with others and do not consider them your own. I don’t understand. Why would you consider them your own? How is this helpful? For deflating egos or something?

Compose a list of familiar phrases, or phrases that have stayed in your mind for a long time–from songs, from poems, from conversation. I have always wanted to do this, but it would be a lot of work, and I’d have to be home with my Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations. But really. This summer? A project for June?

Write a work that intersperses love with landlords. Love, landlords, love, landlords, love, landlords. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t feel fully qualified for this.

Choose a period of time, perhaps five or nine months. Every day, write a letter that will never be sent to a person who does or does not exist, or to a number of people who do or do not exist. Create a title for each letter and don’t send them. Pile them up as a book. I don’t know when I will have time for this, but I think this sounds like a wonderful idea for anyone who likes expressing themselves, whether they have a vested interest in writing or not.

Write a macaronic poem (making use of as many languages as you are conversant with). Wow. I wish I was conversant in more than one language.

Find the poems you think are the worst poems ever written, either by your own self or other poets. Study them, then write a bad poem. Hehe. This sounds marvelously therapeutic and mostly unhelpful.

Attempt writing in a state of mind that seems least congenial. Haven’t we all done this already? Eighth grade journal, anyone?

Get someone to write for you, pretending they are you. Okay, SURE! Who knew this would help?

Construct a poem as if the words were three-dimensional objects to be handled in space. Print em on large cards or bricks if necessary. I’m buying me some index card and poetry magnets. Hundreds of them. Hundreds of thousands.

If you have an answering machine, record all messages received for one month, then turn them into a best-selling novella. Goodness, I wish I my voicemail box had more memory!

Write a series of titles for as yet unwritten poems or proses. I actually tried this one and it was quite fun. The asterisks mark the titles I feel turned out particularly well.

Each Time He Kissed Me

Clinging to My Hat

Tudor Family Reunion

I Met a Horace Once*

The Last Wedding

Interminable Salt*

The Brink of the Basket

Michael Macintosh

A Year in Utero***

Pinholes

Feet for Standing

The Shampoo Aisle

The World in Cadence*

The Top of Her Laughter

So, think I’ve made it out of the cavern? I’m not sure myself, but it’s very late, so I’m going to go to bed and listen to the Syracuse rain on the roof. What a satisfying thought. Rain on the roof.

Anniversary

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A very important milestone was reached last week on October third, and I missed it.

Happy Birthday, little blog! Bon Anniversaire! Feliz Cumpleaños! χαρούμενα γενέθλια ! Buon Compleanno!  יוֹם הֻלֶּדֶת שָׂמֵחַ! Penblwydd Hapus! You’re a whole year old!

That was English, French, Spanish, Greek, Italian, Hebrew and Welsh. (Wikipedia helped.)

Every year on my birthday my dad writes me a poem, so I believe strongly that this is how one ought to celebrate one’s offspring. Sitting next to me on my bed to serve as inspiration is a box with nineteen birthday cards in it. Darn. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into. One of these is in FRENCH! Oh, one’s alliterative…that’s sweet. Here’s one my mommy wrote. Wow—a haiku, Dad? I can do that…

Sometimes blogs are hard

But mostly I write about

Me and that’s easy.

Pretty shoddy work, hunh? The truth is, little blog, that I’m not a poet, and I started you so that I could write prose. Prose, the stuff stories are made of, that takes up pages and pages of Microsoft Word, and is both easier to do right and easier to do wrong than poetry is. Dear little blog, thanks for sticking around and being willing to be so versatile. I’m going to utilize that soon. I think you’re cool.

And here’s your kinda lame present: a makeover, plus an extra entry next week! Hope you like it…

Silly Thoughts

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I’m lying on the couch in my study at home and dinnertime sun and neighborhood sounds are coming in through the open window. It’s a good place to be. I highly recommend it. My brother is downstairs, probably communing with poptarts and the computer, and my dad will be home anytime, and we’ll have frozen pizza for supper. This evening, I may do some reading for school, I may look for jobs (I have an itch to clean houses this summer), or I may watch a movie. Nothing here is really of a particularly high-caliber, except that this is that place called home, and I can sit on my picnic table and watch the sun stream through the thin oak leaves, so new that they’re almost damp. We have a new car. He’s a 1992 navy Volvo, and I’ve named him Horace. I have a crush on him. Right now I don’t really want to go back to school. I just want to lie on this couch for few more decades. Then maybe I’ll get up and wander off into the sunset.

I can feel myself detaching in a funny sort of way.

Mary

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I would like to take this opportunity to say something: On Friday, my sister will be twenty-one. That seems like an important number, and I’m sure it is for many people. But the real age of excellence for Mary and me will be twenty-seven. When she turns twenty-seven, that is when I will throw her a huge surprise party (not that she hasn’t gotten one anyway the past two years in a row…) and bust out champagne and not-the-caviar-cause-I’m-pretty-sure-she-would-hate-it.

Anyway, even though she’s only turning twenty-one, and that’s nbd(no big deal), I still want to honor her, because she is honestly wonderful. There are a lot of people who I can stop and think about, and say, “Wow, my life would be sort of lonely and sad without you in it…” But with Mary, I can’t say that, because I simply can’t imagine being without her. I shared a room with her for sixteen years, and, you know,  that’s longer than many marriages last. One of our favorite things to do together is reminisce. Here are some things to remember:

-the time we made that perfume for all the moms-the time we walked to the arboretum after dark-the time Wheezy married Emily- the time I gave you a tour of Davidson-goofy guy-the 500,000 times Peter quit Monopoly-the time we were singing in the rain and the car didn’t stop fast enough-Adam Nordaker-Sadie Hawkins Dance-“and my sister fell down so then there were only two of us”-time the String Beans did not light candles with the AF-the Protestant Reformation we all looked forward to so much- the time we walked down the whole creek in the greenway and there was a dead fish- the rainy day cd-the flower club-when everyone was in love with Paint-Unwritten-pantyhose- all those picture on our walls- Muzzy-the time you and your weird friend gave Rosie and me nasty water-Person-the guy who gave us the “vahse”-Creve!-when you read me your diary every night-the time I cleaned your desk for your birthday and just made a bigger mess-the time we made Mom and Dad a collage-ALL THOSE SCRAPBOOKS-Pushy Haddin and Grammy’s stuffed animals…

That was a poorly executed list, there were so many more things that happened, and there are also so many more things that will happen. Really. Now, a few more things I want to tell you, sister: “Mary, let’s LAUGH!” “Good job, little buddy, you sang your little heart out!” “Everybody over here says good night to everybody over there!”

I love you so much, and am thankful God has given you to me. You are kind, pretty, generous, and full of grace. I’m incredibly proud that you are my sister. And you’ll be my sister for always….

(GOOD-night-sleep-tight-don’t-let-the-bed-bugs-bite)

Ridiculous

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Today, I am very happy. My dad will be here at three, and tomorrow I go home for Thanksgiving, which I have never been so thankful for. Also, the English Department has a teacup collection. And I’m taking good classes next semester. THEREFORE, what follows is a deeply frivolous entry which you may not want to read. Seriously. You might just want to skip it.

WHAT WAS YOUR:

1. last beverage: Milk

2. last phone call: Karen…well, not quite. See, Karen and I don’t call. We voicemail.

3. last text message: never…

4. last song you listened to: Hay un amigo en mi…

5. last time you cried:…I honestly don’t remember, and I watched two tear-worthy movies yesterday.

HAVE YOU EVER:

6. dated someone twice: No.

7. been cheated on: I prefer the word betrayed…

8. kissed someone & regretted it: No.

9. lost someone special: Yes.

10. been depressed: Not seriously.

11. been drunk and threw up: No. Wouldn’t be a very attractive look on me.

LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Yellow

13. Purple

14.Red

THIS YEAR HAVE YOU: (2010)

15. Made a new friend?: Yes. Many of them.

16. Fallen out of love?:  Probably.

17. Laughed until you cried?:Almost…those handshakes

18. Met someone who changed you?: I think so

19. Found out who your true friends were?: Yes. Or more like..decided.

20. Found out someone was talking about you?: Not that I remember…

21. Kissed anyone on your fb friend’s list ?: No.

GENERAL

22. How many people on your fb friends list do you know in real life: Everybody. I’m really relatively picky about it.

24. Do you have any pets: Well, there’s Tigg the cat, but we’re rarely on speaking terms. Does George count? He’s cute.

26. What did you do for your last birthday: Teased my hair,waved a knife around,and screamed about blood. Then I hugged lots of people.

27. What time did you wake up today: 7:40- my 8am class was cancelled

28. What were you doing at midnight last night: Watching Toy Story 3. The end of it..the heart warming part.

29. Name something you CANNOT wait for: Three-o-clock

30. Last time you saw your Mother: October 24

31. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: Nothing,really

32. What are you listening to right now: the fridge humming, and dear hallmates getting ready to leave

33. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Pretty sure I have

34. What’s getting on your nerves right now: Nothing. I’m in a beautiful state of mind.

35. Most visited webpage: Facebook. This computer is terrible for my health.

37. Nicknames: Not many. A-girl. Aliche.

38. Relationship Status: None.

39. Zodiac Sign: Taurus. I think. Somebody who cares want to check that for me?

40.He or She?: She.

41. Elementary: Caldwell

42. Middle School?: Caldwell and that one infamous year at Penn-Griffin

43. High School?: Guess. This is a hard one.

44. Hair Color?: brown with peroxide

45. Long or short?: A little longer than I would prefer right now.

46. Height: 5′ 9″. Average height for a man. And I am not a man.

47. Do you have a crush on someone?: Probably not. It’s debatable, but I choose not to debate it.

48: What do you like about yourself?: My waist. Don’t touch it.

49. Piercings?:ears

50. Tattoos?:  No. But someday I want to get henna all over my body.

51. Righty or lefty?: Right handed.

52. First surgery?: Never

53. First piercing?: My ears.

54. First best friend?:Mary

55. First sport you joined?: Haha. Silly.

58. First pair of trainers?: That’s a weird question. My mother wouldn’t even remember.

RIGHT NOW:

59. Eating: Maddie’s gingerbread cookie!

60. Drinking:  nothing

61. I’m about to: Clean my room. It’s gonna be so great.

62. Listening to: Didn’t you already ask this question? Or did I dream it?

63. Waiting for:Three o’clock.

64. Want kids?:  Many

65. Get Married?: mmmmmm yes.

66. Career?: Mr. Powell’s replacement.

WHICH IS BETTER ?

67. Lips or eyes?: Eyes.

68. Hugs or kisses: I’m such a hug kid.

69. Shorter or taller: Taller. This is a very important issue in my life.

70. Older or Younger: Probably older.

71. Romantic or spontaneous: Um, can he just be himself?

72. Nice stomach or nice arms: How about both?

73. Sensitive or loud: This is dumb. I’ll choose after I’m married.

74. Hook-up or relationship: Neither?

75. Trouble maker or hesitant: Neither. At all.

HAVE YOU EVER :

76. Kissed a stranger: No…

77. Drank hard liquor: I’ve…eaten it!

78. Lost glasses/contacts: No. Just my keys.

79. Sex on first date: No.

80. Broken someone’s heart: I seriously doubt it.

81. Had your own heart broken: No. It’s pretty tough stuff.

83. Turned someone down: Not directly…

84. Cried when someone died: Yes.

85. Fallen for a friend: Hahahahaha. No. I’m more the enemy type.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

86. Yourself: More often than is wise

87. Miracles: Yes, usually

88. Love at first sight: Such a belief would wreak havoc on my life. So, no.

89. Heaven: Very much

90. Santa Claus: I believe in my mother…

91. Kiss on the first date: First date?

92. Angels: Yes.

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:

93. Had more than one bf/gf?: No.

94. Is there one person you want to be with right now?: No. For the first time in a long time.

95. Did you sing today?: Not yet…

96. Ever cheated on somebody?: Only in Mafia

97. If you could go back in time, how far would you go, and why?: I wouldn’t.

98. If you could pick a day from last year and relive it, what would it be?: Tomorrow. Of this year.

99. Are you afraid of falling in love?: No. I like it a little too much, actually.

DID YOU READ THAT? I like you. I promise a grave, weighty entry next time around.