Wednesday, December 31, 2003
remember that thing about never being present at the actual point of death? i hit a rabbit on the way home tonight. kinda gross, but not really as earthshattering as i'd thought.
my new year's resolutions are
1.) to be perfect
2.) to keep a budget
3.) to think of others before i think of myself
4.) to think of God before i think of others
5.) to pray and mean it
6.) to be okay with not being perfect when i fail at #1 within a half hour and #s 2-5 within the next couple of days
7.) to cry out to my Creator when i fail even at #6
grace is such an amazing thing. it shows us our weakness only as it erases it. and it allows me to anticipate late night conversations with crazy girls i love even though i don't deserve them.
posted by renee 1:12 AM
Monday, December 22, 2003
quote of the week:
sometimes i think i'm really messed up. and then sometimes i think i just want to be messed up to get attention. and then i think, "wow, that's really messed up"
i'm DONE with stupid school for awhile
now my brain is consumed with carmen, boyfriend, family and christmas shopping
posted by renee 2:08 PM
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
i think i may have been reassured back into this thing... i just need to recognize that what i write can affect people. if sticks and stones have the power to break bones, words are more like bullets... anyway, we'll see how it goes down, but i think i'm not giving up yet. thanks for listening yesterday, jillian. thanks for not giving up, micah.
posted by renee 5:34 PM
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
because i am impulsive and i tend to exaggerate and all this stupid website has done is make people upset at me, i am done. i just write what i think. and sometimes i, like most people, think unfair things. sometimes i think mean things. sometimes i write without thinking. and i hate hurting people and i hate making people mad at me. someone started making comments under other people's names this semester. i don't know why they found me so interesting and fun to toy with. but i'm sick of it. and sometimes i hurt people with what i write without intending that they ever see it. if i can't feel like i can be honest on this site, there's no point to having it anymore.
posted by renee 9:09 AM
Friday, December 12, 2003
i feel painfully unnecessary today.
finals are terrible and i want to go home.
somehow, it seems that i have ended up where i started.
on another note, i saw "shattered glass" today with my old middlebrook media-crazy friends...
fantastic movie, but i just can't keep up with them. reminds me of freshmandom.
and then i baked unappreciated banana bread and now i am going to sleep.
i haven't felt this crappy for awhile.
posted by renee 12:27 AM
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
gargantuan snowflakes pelted my face and deeper inside my brain-wheels whirred in response to an outdoor spray-paint artist's assertion that "capitalism hates you." probably the same raving socialist who stenciled "kill the fat girl inside" on the moos tower bus stop.
and then i wondered. is there a fat girl inside? do i want to kill her?
and i postulated. capitalism seems to love me - or maybe it just COURTS me. it needs and wants me but hates me at the same time. if i were more able, i would extend my metaphor between dating and capitalism, however, my thinker is on full alert and in conservationist finals mode. i must not use it for frivolities.
and then i laughed. snowflakes cannot really PELT anyone, no matter how huge.
oh, and jill and liz better come over. my christmas tree is waiting. the time has come.
posted by renee 2:19 PM
Sunday, December 07, 2003
the sun has risen on florence
i miss starched sheets and a blue plaid comforter and the feel of the wicker desk as my fingers found their way blindly to the snooze button on my travel alarm clock. it's still set seven hours fast. i miss seafoam green kitchen chairs, my knees pulled up to my chin, scrambled eggs with strawberries and the smell of olga's strange belarussian culinary creations. i miss laundry fluttering in the wind and watching the old lady across the courtyard a floor down from us beating her rugs every day. i miss the texture of the stairs to the attic bedroom. i guess someone else lives there now. they eat off the white pottery dishes and slice spongy first-day bread on the oak cutting board. they wrap chunks of cantalope in prosciutto and sip vernaccia in the morning sunshine flooding in from the balcony doors. they sprawl on the red couch next to the tall skinny window with its long lace curtains. i miss opening that window and being astounded every time that i could look down and see italy. i miss the sound the door made when it slammed and echoed down the stairwell in our apartment. i miss the professional women driving mopeds in their stilletto Prada boots, long curly hair flying behind them as they weave between busses. i i miss the post office and the bum that lived outside it. i miss the high shelves of old books at the British Institute Library across the arno. i miss that focaccia i ate for lunch every day.. gleaming with oil, intoxicatingly scented. sometimes i think i might never miss any other town as much. any other apartment. i think no other string of memories will haunt me so effectively. suddenly i can almost smell fried ice cream en flambe in palermo. i can remember perfectly the stone steps to my school. i can taste the tiramisu from baldovino. and i pull my hand back between starched sheets to wait for my alarm to go off again. and when it does, it feels like i'm in the wrong place.
the atlantic was born today, and i'll tell you how
the clouds above opened up and let it out
i was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere
when the water filled every hole
and thousands upon thousands made an ocean forming islands
where no islands should go...
posted by renee 12:47 AM
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
i remember worrying as a little girl that no one could ever love me like i might love them. i remember being afraid that someday, if i tried to explain the true depth of my feelings to the person my heart released its fury on, it would be too much for him and he would be scared away. i live life with a kind of intensity that makes even me nervous sometimes. and love is no exception. although i know the value of the greyscale, true black and true white are often all i can see. the truth is, there is something in the middle. and often, what's in the middle is best. but living a moderate life seems like only half a life. i have a notebook padding a bookshelf somewhere that says "resignation" in huge angry letters across the front and is full of quotes and thoughts from the summer i made the unfortunate decision to read point counter-point by aldous huxley. he talks of the barbaric nature of christians, who sacrifice their flesh and instincts and therefore half of their existence to a God who only MAYBE is there and doubtfully could ever appreciate their efforts. and i think that, as a result of that book, "resignation" is my REAL biggest fear. (i know i pale at the thought of childbirth, but that only lasts a few hours if you're lucky). i don't want to be sacrificing myself to cultural demands, false religious ideals, the opinions of other people, or to someone who would run in fear if he really knew how deeply i loved him. i must find the grey here... and i must lock away the wounded middleschooler afraid of rejection. first step: sleep 9 hours tonight. talk to God in the morning.
posted by renee 11:46 PM
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
advertising is a major for areligious conservatives. i am neither areligious nor conservative. nonetheless my advertising class convenes in 9 minutes. life is good.
posted by renee 2:22 PM
Monday, December 01, 2003
i am home. funny that this is home. on saturday night a crowd of scraggly-haired, band-tee-shirted, tight jeans wearing second wave hippies and i watched "waking life." we waxed philosophical about the origin of human rationality, the telescopic nature of evolutionary change and the marxist glee that would ensue if bill gates graduated from icon of modern capitalism to patriarch.... and i was happy to be in college. happy to be in lincoln. happy that i get to spend my time and energy now just gaining knowledge and getting to know what straight edgers think and what autistic guitar players think and what john mark thinks... i wouldn't mind talking all night long sometimes. and sometimes i get dang close. talking is better than thinking. it forces your mind into a logical pattern. it demands a more complete attention, whereas my thought life is nothing more than a collection of snippets and schrapnel. and i like it even when people are paying close enough attention to my ideas that they can point out the weak spots. keeps you sharp... but i have left my idyllic lincoln for home. and this is home. the pupil widening skyline is comforting. the smells of my house are familiar. the roommates are welcoming. i arrived at 10:15 with fifteen interviews to complete for tomorrow morning and by 11, they were done. i have fantastic friends and the softest cat in the world. today is a good day.
posted by renee 12:04 AM