Poetry - Linger

the rain

after a vast drought
half-heartedly moistens
parched grass and crumpled blossoms

and before

the clouds played tricks
skirting back and forth
mischievous, brimming

temptresses

voluptuous and forbidding
rouged lips with locked legs
maddening our cracked mouths

one drop

a game of cat and mouse
of torrid wit and logic
steaming on the pavement

evaporates

Time is Cackling

I slept from 1:30 in the morning to 11:30 and I'm still tired. What does this tell you about my sleeping habits? They suck. Apparently ten hours is two too many. Or four too many. Or just generally too many.

We're in the single digits. Nine days and counting. I've decided to turn the living room into my temporary packing headquarters. That is, once I've started packing. Which I haven't. I have made a list or two in an attempt to figure out what I need to buy before heading back. Must distinguish between things I want and things I need. I've always been good at rationalizing the former into the latter... must stop being so underhanded.

Watched Clue with Alix last night. Hadn't seen it before and absolutely loved it. Hilarious. Exactly my sense of humor. Oh, Tim Curry. I thought about buying it today, but I already succumbed to ordering Driving Lessons and Emma (the book) from Amazon yesterday. I wasn't even going to buy Emma at all but ended up adding it to qualify for super-duper-sensational-spectacular-saver shipping (or something). Whoops. All self-control out the window.

I had an exceptionally fun time on Monday, which hasn't happened in quite a while. I went with Erin to get her glasses fitted, and then we ate lunch at Steak 'n Shake. After that we decided to head over to Underwood Park where we lay in the shade on a picnic table having a lovely conversation until Dave called. We met him at Borders for a drink. White Cranberry Tea. Very good. Wandered around World Market looking at jewelry and zoomed on over to Target where Erin bought a new comforter. Went back home to change and then met Dave at Raspberry Grove to watch Erin ride Rev in quadrilles. Got some sweet pictures:









The three of us trekked back to my house and watched Moulin Rouge, then did a Wal*Mart run for some snackage. All manner of foods that one should never eat too much of or in combination with one another. Bing Cherries, Starburst, Caramel Creams, chips, salsa, sour cream, and Wild Cherry Pepsi. What happened to my soda embargo? I really have lost all self control. (Where's Gabs when you need her to whip you into shape?) Anyway, after that we played DDR into the wee hours of the morning. The sweatiest I've been in a long time... but at least we were burning off the calories? They left around 1:30 AM, and I fell asleep right when my head hit the pillow.

In other news, haven't seen as much of Zach as I would like... but what's new in that department? I'm going to try to come home when his family goes on vacation in October (without him, obviously), but that might turn out to be tricky. Would I stay with him or my family? Could I stay with him without his evil grandmother surprising us with a midnight visit? I can just hear her shrill voice... "Zachary! Who is that in your bed?! How dare you!" Oh dear. Then again, she might be going with the rest of his family. Must confirm that. The main problem is how to get home. Train? Bum a ride from Gabs? Borrow a car from someone else (eek, dangerous)? I suppose the answer will arise when it's down to crunch time. I'll bank on that. :bites lip:

Overall, time is moving way too fast. Still sprinting trying to catch up with it. And me sprinting is a rather pathetic athletic endeavor, really. Time just keeps cackling while I stumble over my gangly limbs and double over from lack of physical ability. What a sad image...

Maturity, A Tirade

Here's an excerpt from Dictionary.com's "The Right Word" section (located below the definition of the word):

"Most of us would prefer to mature rather than simply age. Mature implies gaining wisdom, experience, or sophistication as well as adulthood; when applied to other living things, it indicates fullness of growth and readiness for normal functioning."

And I'm going to rant (some of you might say immaturely when you've finished reading this, I'm sure) about it.

It's the thing everyone thinks they are but aren't. I know a lot of people who claim to have gained a wealth of maturity within the last couple years and have, in fact, regressed into an ignorantly childish state of indulgence. Not everyone, mind you. But a few. And before I really get the ball rolling on this tirade, I just want to make it perfectly clear that I'm guilty of doing a lot of these things. These criticisms are for my own sake as well.

If you let go of all your ideals upon entering college in order to "change" or "remake" yourself and come running back to your old friends when it bites you in the ass, no one is going to feel sorry for you. Your attempt at reinvention has not been mature. You're lonely because you've made yourself that way.

If you claim not to condone others' behavior in the presence of one friend only to deny your aversion to that same behavior in the presence of the other, you are not mature. You are a hypocrite.

"Respecting" someone's decision when secretly despising them for it is lying to yourself and to them. And "respecting" someone else's long-term relationship and then attempting to put your foot in the door is not the same thing. True respect shows maturity. False respect is a juvenile parlor-trick.

Talking about a problem with everyone but the person to which it pertains is unfair to that person. Along a similar vein, not addressing important, existing problems is probably one of the biggest mistakes people make, including myself. Shoving them into that cobwebbed corner of your brain is only going to make them more ripe for disaster when they tumble out of the vault.

You can both be wrong, and you can both be right. At the same time. It's immature to think that there is only one way to look at a situation. After all, what would the world be without multiple perspectives? Boring. Oh, and discussing disagreements is always better than yelling.

Manipulating or controlling people is never mature. Ever. Asking someone to change for you without consideration of their own ambitions and goals is selfish. And asking someone whether they think you're controlling is a set-up for disaster. Don't bate people into giving you the answers you want to hear. If don't want their honest opinion, don't ask the question.

Obsession isn't the same thing as love. Just as liking the idea of being in a relationship isn't the same thing as liking the person you're dating. Recognize the difference.

I think that's quite enough for now. I find that being matter-of-fact in the way I feel about things helps me sort them out. Telling myself that I'm being immature and recognizing it does a lot more than moping around waiting for someone else to give me a wake up call. I'm a firm believer in acknowledging your own shortcomings, even if some people would say that's my greatest weakness. And I wouldn't disagree with them. I'm probably the biggest hypocrite of all, especially for writing this entry.

But it helped.

Pause

He really missed me, I could tell.
We didn't go to the movie so we could spend time together.
Spend it, instead of spending it.
And I'm head-over-heels.

That part of me doesn't want August 17th to come.

Stretch out the month a bit longer... pause it.
So the late-afternoon sun slants through the windows all day.

Errands, and I Digress...

I like running errands. This might make me a mutant ooze-creature from an uninhabited bog in some dark corner of the Earth, but I do. I like the straightforwardness of making lists and checking off tasks once they're completed. Perhaps it makes me feel useful, which, during the summer, is a rare occurrence.

My boyfriend makes eleven dollars an hour sitting in a cubicle from seven to four every day shooting me emails as a makeshift messaging service. And occasionally answering service calls. Or something. I make seven-fifty an hour to teach children how not to drown. I get kicked in the bladder (which is nearly always full), hit in the face, or groped at least once every night. I have to deal with unhappy parents, hyperactive kids, and a repetitive curriculum. With my current job, sometimes the only thing I feel like I've accomplished upon returning home is soaking up more chlorine.

And I feel like a chemically violated sponge. My fingers don't even prune until I've been in the water for at least two hours. Apparently I've developed a resistance to moisture. My skin looks like a cracked river bed, and the lotion I slather on it at least once a day evaporates too quickly to make any real difference.

When did this turn into a bitching session? Steering it in another direction.

I had lunch at Fazoli's with my friend Alix today. I've missed talking to her. We're both incredibly pathetic. As she doesn't have a job and only volunteers at a museum a couple hours a week, and I don't work until later in the day, you would think one of us would pick up the phone and call the other. Ah, well. Lazy college students that we are... can't expect much.

We came back to my house afterwards and watched Hook, which I absolutely love. Greatly enjoy Dustin Hoffman. Can't even begin to describe how hilarious he is. I have a penchant for watching movies I used to be obsessed with as a child and seeing all the adult humor that I previously hadn't cottoned on to. "Near-sighted gynecologist" has got to be the most hilarious insult ever. Too bad Rufio only had a fifth-grade reading level...