Happy Hallowe'en

Happy Hallowe'en!

Jme: "I ran out of real candy, but here; you can have a candy cane or string cheese."
kid: ". . ."
Jme: "Here, take the string cheese, but be sure to refrigerate it when you get home!"
kid: "Fiiiiiine."

Grand Finale (oh deer).

Grand Finale.

"Hell of a way to end your weekend," remarked the trucker as the wrecker's bed slid towards my car. I looked at him; the glaring lights of the tow truck lit up the pitch-black darkness and illuminated tiny flakes of snow swirling towards us.

I agreed with him, a dry laugh working its way out of my mouth. "Yeah, I know. The Grand Finale." I gazed at the bits of drying animal flesh pasted onto the hood and side of my car; the smashed hood, the puddle of fluid under the car's body. I'd always hoped that if I ever were to hit a deer, I'd hit it hard enough to kill it; the memory of the deer appearing in front of me, then the massive thud, the sight of pieces of animal flying across and over my car, landing far away in the ditch, assured me that there was no chance it could be alive.

I swallowed hard, trying not to connect the delicate beauty of the animal with the horror of the scene in front of me. My neck ached and my pulse thudded in my head. It had taken forty minutes for the police and wrecker to get to the scene; forty minutes in which I shook and listened to the hissing of the radiator, trying to contact someone to help me. I had pulled out my phone and dialed 911, and the phone, even though on silent, played music as I hit "send," a sweet chime that assured me that help would be on the way.

Girl Problems

Girl Problems

roomie: It's because, you know, I have PMS. Well, not PMS. More like MS.
me: Oh no! You have Multiple Sclerosis?
roomie: Yes, that too.

Revealing

Revealing

There are so many times I don't post; I write posts, yet don't publish them. It's not that I find my thoughts particularly disturbing; instead, there are a few topics which, if I write about, make me feel naked. Those posts, I save as drafts to be re-read over and over by myself. Many of them are about someone; the posts about him I was hesitant to publish, mainly because I didn't like having a public electronic record, in case things don't work out. But lately, I'm realizing more and more that even if things don't work out the way I'd like them to, these thoughts are still here and won't change. Will I always be able to remember that I loved spending time with him? Yes.

There are a few random snippets I am okay with sharing, though.

There are so many students from Japan here this semester, living in my dorm. They're all so small and skinny, with tiny jeans and cute shirts and feathered, highlighted hair, and always ALWAYS cheerful, smiling and bobbing their heads whenever someone walks past. "Good morning!" they chirp, dipping their heads and grinning so hugely that it seems strange they don't have a ton of smile wrinkles yet.

In dance class...his arm around my waist, my hand on his shoulder, his fingers on my ribs tapping out the beat, and our bodies moving together as though they can speak a language of their own, one in our subconscious; we waltz like Cinderella and the prince, only closer; Cinderella in a short denim skirt and tights, and the prince in gym shorts and a t-shirt.

I walk alone on my side of the pavement, dodging the uneven parts, remembering a conversation we had, and my eyes look up and to my left, expecting to find themselves met by a pair of intent, calm eyes, anticipating seeing a brown knit cap and a ready smile.

I was a bit anxious about our last dance class, the one after The Talk. But I shouldn't have worried that it might be awkward. Instead, everything was perfect, and we danced together better than we ever have before. Rather than awkwardness, there was comfortableness; instead of being overly careful to maintain distance between ourselves and not touch each other, we were relaxed and close; I gave him space, but his arm drew me closer.

immaculate conception

Immaculate conception, Take II

Tonight I was reading a history book about Genghis Khan, and found out there are myths surrounding the circumstances of his birth. One is that his mother was "impregnated by a ray of light." I did a double-take and snorted, then read it to my roommate.

D: "...impregnated by a ray of light." What an excuse. Can you imagine? "So who got you pregnant?"
M & D: 'Oh, it was, you know, a ray of light.'

Is there really a parent dumb enough to fall for that one?

transference.

transference.

J. was my best friend two years ago. I met him at my other college, and we were together nearly 24/7 for over a year and a half. I felt more comfortable around him than anyone else I'd met up to that point, and then we moved to different colleges and grew apart a bit. This spring when my dad was in an accident and I was home alone, I didn't want any of my other friends with me, or even the guy I was seeing at the time; I just wanted J. Not to talk to, particularly, not to cry on, but just to know that he was there.

There's a guy here in one of my classes, who reminds me overwhelmingly of J. Not in amazingly similar looks, but in the shaggy hair and the sweatpants, the laid-back attitude, and the habit of slouching around most of the time, then catching you off-guard with some deep, philosophical thought. It's funny, how I've transferred the feelings I had for my friend, onto this complete stranger; I feel comfortable around him, like there's a piece of home with me in each class we have. Last night, our class watched a movie, and I sat on the floor; this guy came in late (as would my friend) and lay down; I had an overwhelming urge to give him a hug and to lie there, too, sharing a backpack as a pillow.

Until I saw this guy, I didn't realise how much I miss my friend.

i'm too sexy for my shirt...

There are many people I find attractive (I think almost everyone is beautiful), but there are very few people I'm attracted to. Actually, there are only a couple people I've ever been really attracted to. Therefore, I don't go around commenting on people's sexiness because, hello? I don't find them sexy.

Tonight, however, I saw someone who has been one of The Ones for quite a while. I was talking to one of my friends, and when I leaned over to whisper a reply to her, something about plans for next weekend, the only thing that came out of my mouth was, "Hot. Hot hot hothothothothot."

Someone, please slap me.


(tangentially related: I didn't know facebook was going to turn out to be used as a dating service. I've gotten offers/invitations from italians, argentinians, and some U.S. guys - I haven't taken any of them up on it, but it's flippin' sweet.)

That time of year...

That time of year...

It's October, and the feeling I was anticipating has finally struck.

This is the "I want to chop off all my hair" feeling, when I long for any radical change to my hair. Usually when this feeling strikes, I go somewhere and get something done to my hair -- I've weaned myself off cutting my own hair (for the most part).

So I did something different this time, instead of giving in to my scissor-happy fingers, since I'm letting my hair grow long again: I dyed it. I've dyed my hair several times before, but this time, I dyed it purple (and I love it!).

That was a few days ago; today, I saw "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" for the first time, and felt as though I belonged. I loved her hair.

Needing therapy:

D: On a lighter note, a motorcyclist tried to pick me up yesterday afternoon.
G: Did you play 'hard to get' with him too?
D: You mean, like not hop on the back of his bike and go with him? um, YEAH.
G: You're so frigid.

Roomie

D: I love this song. It is so OCTOBER to me.
M: *silence*
D: You ended up with a really weird roommate, didn't you?
M: Yeah, pretty much.

Well, at least I don't dust the top of my box of garbage bags...

Today's Shopping Receipt:

$0.33 worth of roasted-salted-in-shell peanuts
2 pounds fresh green beans
2 bags of brown rice
1 bag of puffed brown rice
1 butternut squash
3 Roma tomatoes
1 avocado
1 4-pack Exotic Berry flavoured Malt Beverages *
3 lbs. McIntosh apples
2 cucumbers
12 small flavoured caramels from the bulk candy section


* My first purchase of alcohol (all the other alcohol [haha, I said "all the other," from which it could be implied that there was a TON OF IT] was given to me), and the clerk didn't even card me. HOW ANTICLIMACTIC.


Today is one of the days I'm homesick; not for my parents' house, but for my own; a house on a quiet street, with golden leaves in the yard and a concrete sidewalk, wet from the rain. A house with my own kitchen, in which I could take my time creating amazing food, listening to Vivaldi today, filling the house with the wonderful smells of cinnamon and nutmeg; a house with colours slathered on the walls, with my art pinned up in the rooms, with wonderful books on the shelves, with my instruments resting in the corner. I drove around a lot in the residential areas of town today, as I ran my errands to the library and supermarket; and as I wove my way between the parked cars lining the narrow streets, I wished that any of the houses were mine.

An msn message that helped alleviate the crapidity of this afternoon:

you don't have to answer,
I just wanted you to know
you're absolutely WONDERFUL
smile cuz we all love you

Collection of Equally Random reasons I feel Slightly Guilty:

1.) I have had far too much chocolate over the past 48 hours. But I alleviate my guilt by reminding myself that I get these cravings only a few days each month (the same days I'm tired and depressed and an emotional mess). And, it's not craving, so much, because craving sounds so specific -- I'm not picky about what I'm shoving into my mouth, as long as it has a high sugar/fat content/carb content. RAVENOUS might be a better word. So, basically, just give in already.

2.) I haven't completely finished the readings for this week's classes. I feel guilty that I don't feel MORE guilty about this - particularly regarding my WWII class.

3.) I looked at the nutrition panel for the bag of Organic Puffed Rice cereal I bought on...ummm... Tuesday (how sick is this, I couldn't remember which day it was, until I thought about the shirt that someone I saw was wearing?!), and it said there are ten servings per bag. They could've fooled me - I thought there were, like, four. Apparently.

6.) Yes. Six. My homeschool-raised brain skipped right over 4 & 5, perhaps in a subconscious attempt to avoid typing or thinking about the five, since I have a horrible aversion to that number. Aaanyway.

7.) I baked an 8x8 (only inches, not feet, unfortunately; otherwise I would've jumped into it and eaten my way out) apple crisp last night. It was only three apples, and it wasn't very crisp. But it was really good (do you notice all the usage of past tense?).

8.) I am currently eating Smucker's Natural peanut butter out of the jar. Off a knife. For an explanation as to why I feel only Slightly Guilty, refer to #1.

9.) I just washed my dishes, only because I ran out of silverware. Yesterday and today I had to resort to eating off knives. I told L. I was going to wash them last night, and then I didn't, and when he asked me later if I had, and I TOLD HIM NO AND HE CALLED ME A BUM, yes, I felt guilty.

10.) I feel guilty for not feeling guilty about slightly losing my temper today. It wasn't a big deal, the losing of the temper, because when I lose my temper I get really cold and quiet, but today I let my book fall onto the floor. And I enjoyed the resounding thud it made.

Collection of random, perhaps meaningless (not to me), and certainly disjointed thoughts:

1.) Currently, my most hated word is "frick." Just say the actual word, people. It's not like we don't know what you mean, and certainly not like God doesn't know what you really mean.

2.) The other night I was on my way from my art class to another building, wearing my crinkly broomstick skirt and corduroy jacket, fingerless mittens, and carrying my sketch pad under my arm. I had to walk by a parking lot, and there must've been a concert, for there were many people out sitting in their cars, smoking their last cigarettes before having to run to the building. One car, a ford focus, windows rolled down, was occupied by two young women; as I walked past, I could hear their voices through the still night air:

"Have you ever noticed that people who are, like REALLY SERIOUS about art, they wear weird clothes? I'm serious - it's cool - they look different than everyone else. Look at her funky skirt!"

3.) What happened? Why do I have this knot of unease in my stomach? We need to talk; I need to know what happened; why that comfortability became strained overnight. If you're scared of getting into a relationship, being vulnerable again, please, please don't be. I won't hurt you. I don't get really mad easily, but the thought of someone ever hurting you, makes me horribly angry. Weeks ago, when there were those creepy people walking right behind us at night, carrying tire irons, in that not-so-nice part of town, I watched them - I was incredibly tense, for I knew if they hurt you, I would want to rip them apart, and I didn't even have my pepper spray with me.

4.) I have a job. I begin sometime in the next few days, and it scares me to death. I didn't want this job; I have so much on my plate right now; but I have to have it. I wish days could've continued on the way they were; full of school and homework, yet having a couple nights a week that were free for other things (like spending time with people. What a novel idea!). Now, the only days that I don't have school booked solid, I'll be working.

5.) Okay, that post I'd written before, the one about loneliness? It sounded all great, and I totally believed it when I was writing it; heck, and I'm sure I still do believe it, somewhere. But the past few days, loneliness has totally sucked. And it wasn't even loneliness for a guy, a few evenings ago, but flat-out loneliness for human company - I took a long drive and sat in the car, tears falling down my face, needing to talk to someone; but not having anyone to talk to.

6.) I don't really have a sixth thing to write; but I couldn't end this on an odd number.

duck, duck, GOOSE

Let's play a new game!

The title of this game is, "How many different shades of brown clothes Dänika can swathe her body in this morning?!"



Five. Possibly six, but I think that would be waaay over the top.

Hop on cop

I've always been scared of getting a speeding ticket. And therapists say that you're supposed to face your fear. Right?

Today I faced my fear (ON THE WAY TO A JOB INTERVIEW) and it's costing me $169.

The hardest part about it, though, was keeping my mouth shut. The cop's name badge said, "D. Seuss," and I had to bite my tongue to keep from singing, "I do not want a ticket, I don't! You surely will not write one - you won't!"

The agony.

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ...

I had my first cup of coffee last week . . .

. . . and three today. Two cups of regular; one espresso.

Dänika, meet Vice.

The Ricecake Addiction

Over the past four days, I've eaten an entire package of Quaker Peanut butter and Chocolate Chip ricecakes. There were fourteen ricecakes in the package, so you'd think I was averaging a bit more than three a day, right?

No. That's what a sane person would do. Well, to be honest, a sane person might not even think of eating more than one a day. Or maybe one a week.

I, however, was averaging five one day, half of one the next, then four, then one, then three, then the other half.

And then licking the crumbs out of the package so I wouldn't miss any of those little, crunchy, carmelly, peanut butter, chocolate chippy calories.

But at least they're gone now, so they won't tempt me.

Fully expecting to receive a long comment from C. regarding this post and automated spam:

I hate spam. I do. It makes me laugh; it makes me utter disgusted sounds; it wrecks that moment of bliss when I think that a Real Person e-mailed me, and then find "DIAPERS ON US FOR A YEAR!" waiting for me.

But the thing I really hate about spam is that I don't get any on the weekends. How twisted is that? I hate the absence of spam, because I don't want the spammers to enjoy their weekends; I don't want them to have free time. If they're going to fill my inbox with garbage, I'd rather they slave over it all the time; not just do it in a modest 20-40 hour work week, then kick up their feet and sip a beer, watching MTV and drooling. I want them to be working at it ALL THE TIME. If they're going to make me miserable; I want THEM to be miserable, too.

100 things...

Taken from this blog (which took it from somewhere else): Make a list of 100 things you like in no particular order. Avoid the obvious (significant other, cake...) and be completely honest with yourself. If you try to think of things that you are curious about and inspired by, you'll end up discovering a lot about yourself and in doing so developing a sort of bank of your interests and ideas.

1. new water bottles
2. grocery shopping
3. bright colours
4. cooking
5. taking photographs
6. the smell of coffee
7. daily planners
8. the smell of tires
9. candles
10. wine
11. wearing a knee-length skirt and tights
12. autumn
13. red shoes
14. dancing
15. the Beatles
16. long walks
17. birthday cards
18. solid-colour mugs and bowls
19. hot tea
20. Wednesdays
21. lakes and oceans
22. strings of white lights
23. Christmas trees
24. waking up in a freezing room, curled up inside a cocoon of quilts
25. black&white photography
26. English literature
27. travelling
28. watching movies in the dark, and seeing the light from the tv flicker across the faces of the other people in the room
29. finding surprising amounts of money in my checking account
30. Target
31. Macintosh apples
32. "Amélie"
33. the smell of fresh-baked bread
34. Cathedrals
35. Renaissance music
36. succeeding
37. plants
38. good shampoo
39. corduroy
40. aerobics
41. laundry detergent (Tide or Gain)
42. Andes mints
44. acting in plays
45. playing the piano
46. finding a kleenex box with a pattern/pictures I like on it
47. dark brown shirts
48. dangly earrings
49. the stars
50. someone who stops whatever he's doing to look me in the eyes and give me his full attention when I'm talking about something serious
51. good blog designs
52. the produce section at good grocery stores
53. my sunglasses
54. gluten-free bread with natural peanut butter, drizzled with honey
55. apple anything in the fall
56. waking up before my alarm goes off, cherishing those last few minutes of peace
57. anticipation
58. seagulls
59. waves crashing on huge rocks
60. finding the perfect pair of jeans for under $20
61. the Tchaikovsky violin concerto
62. squash, sprinkled with brown sugar
63. receiving packages in the mail
64. sending cards
65. reading blogs
66. getting that 'spark' of creativity, when suddenly a story appears in my head
67. the "Emily" books
68. getting a voicemail from someone when I least expect it
69. things working out without my trying to make them work out
70. drawing with charcoal and/or chalk
71. getting my hands messy with the charcoal and/or chalk, then scrubbing it off
72. not worrying about the future
73. spacious, clean kitchens
74. soymilk - Silk; vanilla or chocolate
75. wooden cutting boards
76. beautiful hands
77. loveseats
78. rather bright solid-colour walls and fabrics
79. my burgundy clogs
80. little boys dressed in plaid and khaki or corduroy
81. my old, falling-apart sweatshirt
82. losing weight
83. Latin
84. <-- that number, as well as 26
85. choral music
86. 'le fableux' soundtrack from "Amélie"
87. stationery
88. the smell of asphalt after a good rain
89. cinnamon
90. Pentel R.S.V.P. pens - fine point - black ink
91. playing guitar
92. receiving comments on my photos or blog
93. classical guitar music
94. calendars
95. dawn dishsoap
96. British sitcoms
97. people in London
98. doing better on a test than I'd expected
99. bras from Victoria's Secret
100. temperature in the 60s

(ongoing) to-do list for Fall:

slow down
take more night-time walks
make spiced wine
enjoy my new fingerless glove/mitten things*
drink more tea
make good soups (wild rice, chili, leek and potato)
drink more water
keep the 4.0
breathe**
try to forget that I've Discovered Coffee (only decaf, but still.)
make applesauce
keep up the good work with all the fresh veggies and organic stuff
not lock myself out of my car or dorm


* purchased today; I'm wearing them right now just because I enjoy them so much. They're that lovely, fally, burnt-orange colour, and just the colour by itself makes me want to spend days outside, bundled up in sweaters and corduroy.

** Related to the whole slowing down thing, two posts ago. Certain things will work out the way they're meant to; I don't have to strive to make them turn out a certain way. That became evident to me a couple of nights ago; things don't turn out the way I plan; sometimes, the times I don't plan, they turn out even better.

The first of October (can you believe it?)

I'm ushering in the new month by eating Rice Krispies with vanilla silk and brown sugar, my window flung open to the mid-60s temperature. First, I have to get this out of my system. What is up with this weather? The high today is 75. SEVENTY-FIVE. Two days when I woke up, it was thirty degrees out. After this weekend, the weather is going to be back in the low-fifties, where it's supposed to be.

The dorm is still under "quiet hours" until noon, but I don't feel bad this once, that the people next door can probably hear my music (the Beatles, again); the other night, they were partying until 2 AM.


(slightly related: The wind is blowing from just the right direction that I can smell the Chinese restaurant that's a few blocks away. Yum!)