Throne

Throne
Originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

Incase anyone reads this thing still...
Well I have nothing to write here. So much work for my classes, and finally I am left with one test and one paper, so I have time to visit things like this. I'll be going home on the 21st, but we are stopping over in Monterey bay to see the Great White shark they have there, I figure this will be a once in a life time chance for me to see one. Thats what I am really excited about, I have always wanted to go to the Monterey Bay Aquarium.
Meanwhile I have uploaded a whole bunch of stuff to my flickr site that I have meaning to upload over the course of a few years. But check it out since I have not written anything,
http://www.flickr.com/photos/skinnymalinkee/
(or you can just click the picture)

PS i will write again!

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"things are never as bad as they seem" should be my new motto. Once one starts the work, one had undertaken the hardest part. Yay final for 5 final projects and papers!

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I am so screwed...

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I want to go. I was cleaning…going through dusty junk that I can’t throw away. I want to leave it all here and go in the jeans I am wearing to some place where I don’t own anything. I want to be a guest, a traveler. Curl up by the campfire on the beach watching the sun go down, and the stars come out, and listen to someone playing a guitar.

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Smile

smile
Originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

I was in the Times Standard this past Fri. 17! Look there’s me standing in the center, with my hands in my pockets. The guy took a million photos and he picked the one of me standing slack jawed looking totally silly. Either way Paul was lecturing for my Mediterranean Geography class on top of the maps that I have previously mentioned on this blog (Sep22 post)! So exciting!

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Stanford

This morning I left to drive at about 6:30. After getting up I felt the rush of anxiety over take me and it was so intense I could hardly handle it. I didn’t want to go, and I didn’t want James to make me. But I kept getting stuff together, and finally we left to get gas and pump up the tires. Only a thin layer of light shone up from the eastern mountains. We drove home and I blubbered like an idiot as James left the car, stood there and waved at me as I drove away. I always thought I cried because I had so much emotion, now I think it’s because I am weak. I chose to drive the Samoa way, along edge of Arcata Bay through the bottoms. Tule fog clung to the ground and swirled around like in scary movies. But the clear sky and sun’s formidable rays were comforting. I crossed the bridges into Eureka and that’s when the Father really started to come out. He hadn’t poked his head out yet, but like a backwards sunset, the sky turned pink and the cirrus clouds caught it all like sails, in their wind torn domain. Ascending the hills in to the very heart of the Redwood curtain, yellows gold’s and brilliant white light lit up the sky. I drove in and out of fog which was now receding west, over the Kings range, towards the ocean. What I didn’t anticipate was the colors of the forest. Usually I drive in the dead of winter, or summer. Things are either all green, or somewhat green with balding trees. But it’s fall and the deciduous trees were dropping their leaves. All of them much smaller then the redwood giants, they sprung up at random points. Pale green and yellow, they almost looked like new leaves because the colors were so fresh. As I got farther and farther south, driving through and out of the redwood curtain sparse trees and scrubs began to take over, but they too were wearing and autumn crown. Mostly red and blood orange colors. Trucks rushed by ripping the leaves from the trees, which snowed on to the highway piling up along the shoulders. When I got to wine country the vineyards were turning too, and the hills were neatly striped fall too. The trip took my 5 1/2 hours, which was hardly any time at all considering. The only part of the trip that was hard was probably the amount of dead deer I saw. It’s mating season so they’re especially prone to running out of their normal territories. I even saw a young stag picking at the green grass right next to the highway; a few more steps forward and a truck could easily have taken his head off. I saw dead fox, skunks, squirrels, rabbits, birds, it was all very disturbing, but a reminder that there is wild life out there. (On the way home I saw wild turkeys!) The 101 in lots of places was paved anew, CalTrans doing good work to fix up after the horrendous storms last rainy season. The slide area near Confusion Point wore a metal brassiere along its surface to give the mountainside support. “Stay up there”, I said to myself, “at least until I get home again”.

As for the whole missing James part, well like I said, “things are never as bad as they seem”. I didn’t feel like I had to call him all the time to be sane. In fact I was surprised at that fact the most. When I did call him, it was only because I was bored, or wanted to tell him something cool. I slept pretty well, considering I was sleeping on the floor. But I loved my mummy bag, and I never woke up wondering where James was. Everything felt really normal. Maybe it’s because James is so familiar to me, that he is me, so that where ever I go he’ll be there anyway. But again, this was only three days, a really great three days. In fact I don’t remember getting nervous, uppity or stressed the whole occasion, from leaving home to getting home. It all felt so normal. And seeing Olga was really great too of course. I feel like I can’t write about that cause that’s just too obvious!

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It’s a three-day weekend. I am going to Stanford to see Olga. For some reason the idea of going was such a trek to get through, I could hardly convince myself to do it. Why? I got that anxious feeling you get when you’re leaving home and everyone you know. I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from James, even for just three days. I felt pathetic, and I told myself to get over it so many times, but it wouldn’t go away. Finally when I told him, I said out loud all of the things that could possibly go wrong, or happen, that I was frightened of. Driving alone in the rain on the highway, meeting a new guy, not being able to sleep-stupid ass thing like that. Then I when I had finished speaking I felt right. Everything that I was having problems with went away. I thought wait a second, take advantage of this feeling, and use this good courage to squash all that clinginess. And I did. Now I feel I can make that trek, and use this first time away from James in over a year, for more then 8 hours, as good practice. I told James to say to me, “you are going to be okay”, every time I get negative about it. This constant statement and the trip itself will be therapy if you will. I realize how terribly dependant I am, even though I am fiercely independent when I am with him. I think I have this fear of being alone, and that taking care of him and being his instructor in life gives me the control to not be alone. I hate myself. All I can do is get to Stanford now, be there with Olga, do girl stuff, alone.
Now I can worry about the real things, not hitting deer, sliding off the road in the rain, why I am so messed up…

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I haven’t posted anything about myself in a long time. I’ve been posting plays, writing instructions, but nothing about my life right now. A lot of things are whirring in my head. (The semester has slowed down and it’s turning out to be an easy one too) I have been able to relax.

I’m seriously considering a tattoo. Honestly. It’s either going to be a crescent moon with Celtic knots or a simple trinity of circles also Celtic. But I have no idea the place to put it, amongst other things. Either way that idea is on hold, but ever lingers in my mind. I want to carry a symbol with me. I’ve been drawing to try to make it my own, and I have some sketches which I will post here one day. I do have more to say about this, but I think I might save it for the day when I might actually get one.

Another issue is moving. I’m not sure when but in the past month I suddenly got in such a heat of passion to travel I couldn’t really focus on much else. I’ve saved a lot of money, in spit of losing my job, and for the longest time that was going to be poured in to an apartment with James. But that idea irks me know. It will be incredibly tough to move, both on our wallets and on ourselves. I packed up ¾ of the dishes so that our roommate can no longer make a mess, and it seems I am settling into the idea of staying there. It’s cheap, damn cheap. Either way I think the biggest reason is that I got this sudden urge to leave the country. At first I thought Greece, maybe speak to the oracle at Delphi, dive in to the Mediterranean, and ponder all the things I have learned. But I’ve never traveled out of the country without parents for more then a couple days before, and going to a place where they don’t speak English might not be the best start. Especially considering how shy I am. New Zealand was the natural response. I’ve wanted to go to either Australia or New Zealand since I was very young. I bought a Lonely Planet guide, and it’s been occupying most of my time for the past couple of weeks. Even my mother is enthusiastic, almost shockingly. Now that idea lingers on my finger tips like spider webs.

James is slow to be excited. Once he gets going he’s amazingly versatile and tends to really get into the thing occupying him (example: kayaking). Either way he finds it hard to let go of the moving idea, and also hard to get into the New Zealand idea. Every day I ask, “What about now?” He answers, “It sounds like fun”. But his eyes don’t light up like mine, and his face doesn’t hint to any sudden interest. He’s told me that he needs to let it sink in for a while. Also he is rightfully worried about the financial issue. I know we can make the financial issue if we don’t move, and if we don’t go home for winter break (or at least not the entire month). For him to let go of going home is much harder then it is for me to. Another issue that is out of our control is that he cannot go home for winter break unless he quits Target, because of pesky black out dates. So he either stays here, works through it, or quits entirely and comes back. I think the latter idea means a loss of a huge financial sum. And that means no travel next summer.

Anyways we aren’t making any final decisions yet, and this Saturday is Instant Admissions Day. He’s going to find out if he’ll be accepted to Humboldt State. That I think he is more scared of then any of the previous prospects.

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So the last assignment we did was Rewrite. Kelso wanted us to make a major change to one of our previous scenes. Either cut it down, make it longer, change characters, change settings, tweak story line etc. Either way I chose my last scene: the assignment was Burning Bridge, write a scene in which something happens where the characters can never be the same again. So the scene that follows is Burning Bridge, the scene after that is the Rewrite of that scene. Mine's dramatically different, but still has some of the same qualities and themes.

(Burning Bridge Scene)
by Caitlin Corrie

HARRY, 15-year-old son, distant, coming of age.
MARCUS, father, typically threatened by his sons distance.
MARY, mother, much more patient then MARCUS
KAYCEE, 5-year-old sister to HARRY.

(MARCUS and MARY are sitting nervously on their sofa set in their living room. Both characters are nervous)

MARY
We decided Marcus, tonight. It has to be tonight, we can’t wait any longer.

MARCUS
I know. It’s just Harold’s been so distant, and Kaycee… I just don’t know.

MARY
It doesn’t matter how they handle it, they need to know. We’ll tell Harold first, I just don’t know what to say to Kaycee yet.

MARCUS
I know. All right. Harold?

(HARRY enters nonchalantly pressing the pause button on his video game.)

HARRY
Do you have to call me Harold?

MARCUS
Harry, would you sit down please young man.

(HARRY sits down on the couch next to his mother)

HARRY
Yea…all right.

MARCUS
How’s school?

HARRY
Fine.

MARY
Marcus…

MARCUS
I know, I know…Harold your mom and I, well we have something to tell you.

MARY
Honey we love you and your sister very much you know that right? Well that will never change; we want you to know that.

(HARRY looks disinterested)

MARCUS
Harold, are you listening?

HARRY
Yes I’m listening, you love me blah blah blah… I told you my I have a few stupid teachers this semester, it’s not my fault. Just get off my back!

(HARRY gets up and heads for his bedroom)

MARCUS
Harold we’re getting a divorce.

HARRY
What?

MARY
A divorce honey.

(A pause falls between the characters)

MARCUS
You’re mom and I have been doing a lot of talking…

MARY
It’s just the right thing to do. We just don’t get along the way we used too; anyways it’s for the best. We wanted to tell you before your sister came home.

(HARRY doesn’t answer right away)

HARRY
Fine.

MARCUS
Harold?

HARRY
What! You’re getting a divorce so is half the country, so what!

MARY
Harold we’re still going to talk, we’re going to get the custody sorted out so you and your sister can switch off weekdays and weekends.

HARRY
Fine, I don’t care.

MARCUS
Son…

HARRY
I understand Dad I’m not a little kid anymore! I’m going to Jim’s house.

(HARRY swings the front door open and slams it shut. He runs down the street. He stands still for a moment, and then sits down on the edge of the curb. Tears stream down his face. Just then a school bus arrives. KAYCEE hops off, and hops over to HARRY.)

KAYCEE
Harry Harry look what I drew, bunnies!
(HARRY wipes his face clean, and reaches out to pick up his sister.)

HARRY
Is that why you were hopping Kay?

KAYCEE
Yep. I’m a bunny, what’s up doc?

END SCENE

Now for the Rewrite

(Untitled Re-write Scene)
By Caitlin Jane Corrie

MARVAIN, Queen of Caprian, age 35, wise and cunning.
LORD MARCUS, King Of Caprain, age 60, tyrannical and war driven.
HEROD, Prince of Caprian, age 17, naive, spoiled, but not stupid.
TORUS, Wise Man of Caprian, age unknown, NON SPEAKING
KAYLEEN, Princess of Caprian, age 10, NON SPEAKING

(Lord MARCUS of the kingdom of Caprian, and his wife MARVAIN sit upon the throne in the main hall of an elaborate palace. Their son HEROD has been called to meet with MARCUS. He enters through the main door, leaving a flock of mostly female subjects behind him.)

MARVAIN
Do not dally; your father is in much haste boy!

(HEROD kneels before the throne.)

HEROD
Hail Lord Marcus!

MARCUS
You are to be sent to the borders, at Gerfan. To the front!

HEROD
But father-

MARCUS
Halt!

HEROD
Forgive me, Hail Lord Marcus!

MARCUS
You are nothing but a wench in a man’s skin. Do not think I am stupid in old age. This is year 17 in your life, and you have made your bed with twice as many women. You have not shown me much worth, yes you win contests in the way of the sword, but that is not enough!

HEROD
Yes Lord.

MARCUS
You are to depart on the morrow. I expect I will not see you for many years, serve me.

HEROD
Yes Lord. Hail Lord Marcus.

(HEROD exits. MARVAIN excuses herself appropriately from the main hall and follows her son out. They walk in silence, as is tradition, to a private chamber)


HEROD
What brain ailment shall claim my father?

MARVAIN
He has no ailment.

HEROD
Then why is he sending me away! Surely I have been tutored enough. I am weary of lessons!

MARVAIN
You’re fathers words were like arrows to a bull’s eye. You have had many years of tutoring in the strength of arms, but you are naive to the battlefield Harod. You’re father wants to ensure his name in history, and he cannot do that with a son who is naive. You have never left the city walls.

(HEROD flops onto a bench)

MARVAIN
Your father wants you to go for his own means. He wants you to understand the military, to further force the boundaries of this kingdom upon what he deems to be lesser individuals. You will learn how to conquer, and ultimately become his clone.

HEROD
I do not need to go beyond the walls of the city to understand this country, there’s nothing but flea-ridden peasants and their hovels.

MARVAIN
That is the exact reason you must go to Gerfan! To see death! To see poverty! Too see the earth, beneath the marble. Too reverse the affects of palace life! You have no concept of reality. You must see what it is like to be in the majority. Have you not listened to Torus?


HEROD
That old man tires me more then all of fathers war men.

MARVAIN
Torus is the wisest men in this kingdom. Your father only keeps him here for traditions sake. But I have made it possible for you to meet with him these past years for a purpose Herod.
(MARVAIN sits next to HEROD, and looks directly at him.)

MARVAIN
I want you to go to Gerfan! And I want you to see the terror that your fathers will has inflicted! You must be greater then him Herod, greater then the war Lord. You are finally the ripe age to understand what the people of Gerfan are experiencing!

(HEROD looks confused, but his face becomes resolute. They do not speak for a moment)

HEROD
I do not understand. But it seems I have no choice for myself.

MARVAIN
You will if you become King. Do not be frightened. That is still a number of years away, and you will grow wiser by then. Take with you the teachings of Torus, to illuminate the things you see in Gerfan. Learn both war, and life!

HEROD
Again I do not understand your reasoning. But I will do as you say, though I do not promise to come back any different. And do not think me ignorant, I have listened to Torus, but his stories and proverbs confuse me.

MARVAIN
In time you will understand many things. All I ask is that you go with your mind’s eye open. Come Herod, we must away to prepare for your departure.

HEROD
What shall I tell Kayleen. She will not understand my leaving?

MARVAIN
Tell her what you will Herod. That will be your first lesson. You must learn the meaning of loss.


(END SCENE)

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CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND REWRITE

-First think of some questions that you would ask yourself.
What is your favorite ice cream?
What did you loose last?
What shoes do you wear?
Etc.

-Save these questions for later.

-Then ask yourself
What is your goal?
What will you be doing in ten years to get to your goal?
What are you doing now to get that goal?

-Apply these to your character.

-What are the obstacles that will get in the way of this goal?

-Apply question to your character.

-What does the main character want from the other characters in that scene?

-Also is there a goal and obstacle in the scene?

-Think of some nifty locations?
Bed Bath, and Beyond, Venice Beach etc.

-Think of interests you might have?
Drawing, Writing, Taking pictures

-Can you make the scene you have written in a non-cliché location?

-Can you think of some interests your character might have?

-What are some serious beliefs about life that you hold very true?
Karma, No one is ever right or wrong etc.

-Apply this to your character.

-What are three items you carry with you at all time?
Water, Bra etc.

-Apply this to your character.

-After go back and apply the first few questions you thought of to your character.

This is the exercise we did in class to rewrite our scenes. It seemed to be the most helpful and productive thing I have done in that class so far. And I thought I would post the directions our teacher Margret Kelso gave to us, to perhaps help others in the writing process. I think it makes your characters really deep.

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I had to write a scene with subtext, meaning what the character is really trying to say, what underlying message they are trying to convey. The idea came easily to me, although i really hated writing it. I felt completely uncomfortable the whole time, and im dreading the reading today. I dont know if it's believeable without the context I imagined the scene in, it just makes me edgy is all.

UNTITLED SUBTEXT SCENE
By Caitlin Corrie

FRANKY, 49 year old carpenter, Dad, semi retired mobster, still does work on the side.
MIKE, 27 year old, full time mobster, holds FRANKY in high respect.
MARIE, 47 year old wife of FRANKY (NON-Speaking)
CINDY, 13 year old daughter of FRANKY (NON-speaking)

(It is just after midnight. MIKE is sitting down at FRANKY’S Kitchen table. They are speaking quietly, as FRANKY make’s coffee and sits at the table)


MIKE
I always like your coffee Franky.

FRANKY
Its just coffee for Chris sake. Never heard a compliment out of your mouth before.

MIKE
You know if anything ever happened to you, I’d see to it that Marie and the kids got looked after.

FRANKY
Mike what the hell are ya talking about? Jesus you gotta get more sleep kid.

MIKE
What no sugar?

(FRANKY gets up and hands some sugar to MIKE. He leans against the kitchen sink facing FRANK)

FRANKY
Anyways. I don’t want Marie to ever know anything about it, if I died that is from this business. She doesn’t need to know.

MIKE
Yeah.

(Pause)

FRANKY
What’s the job then?

MIKE
Well boss wants it clean. Not like last time.

FRANKY
Did he tell you to say that? Last time I got carried away, don’t you think I know that? They think I’m a fucking amateur?! It won’t happen again.

MIKE
Yes he knows it won’t happen again Frank.

FRANKY
Must be a big name eh?

MIKE
No, actually.

FRANKY
Who knows what their planning up in that big house, I don’t care-just as long I get the money. Got to put Cindy through college, and that sure ain’t happening on a constructions workers salary.

MIKE
Yeah Franky.

FRANKY
I got the perfect place to dump the body. Up off Sunset, new house, we can bury where they’re going to lay the cement tomorrow.

MIKE
Nah, boss has something special planned.

FRANKY
Oh? And it’s not a daughter of Chase or something?

MIKE
No. Franky, it’s someone that the boss considers the most immediate threat to the business. But let’s get outta here before Marie hears us.

(FRANKY gets up nervously and head to the door.
They get into the car and drive for a couple of hours up to the foothills. They exit the car at the top of a fire road)

FRANKY
Are you sure anyone lives up here? It’s just a damn fire road, who the hell does the boss have connection with up here?

MIKE
No one Franky.
FRANKY
Then why the hell are we driving all the way into the god damn woods?

MIKE
Franky, you’re a good guy.


(FRANKY pulls out a gun. End scene)

You see I wanted to context to be that the younger guy looked up to the older, more wise guys, who through old age and stress were beginning to loose his nerve. Maybe they had done many jobs together before, maybe the young guy learned all he knew from the older guy. It's one of the main reasons I didn’t have them swearing or talking to each other in a typical mobster sort of way. They didn’t need to show off, or act like big shots in their own company. I wish I had more time to work on it, more patience and more confidence to actually build that sort of feeling. It's hard to work in a page limit, although I can do up to five pages this one turned out to be two, mostly because I couldn’t handle writing any more, and also because I didn’t know how to add all that context in to it.

One of our assignments will be to re-write one of these mini scenes. Will I pick this one? It's not like the scene really matters. I guess what I mean this random post-scene-writing-semi-explanation thing to say is it's hard for me to make it really good if I don't even see the message I am trying to convey in the first place. However my other scenes are much worse, and very stereotypical, cliché to the extreme. I hate them, I don’t like this one because it's eerie, but the other ones scream amateur. (That is why I have not posted them here, too embarrassing) We have one more mini scene to write before a rewrite and before we begin our "ten min. one act" thingy. I am totally not ready! I don’t think I have learned any tools to even approach that. I need freaking exercises to help me make insightful characters and good plots, although I suppose if it were that easy everyone would be writing play...

(PS The reason why I wrote this might be because I am currently in Geography of the Mediterranean. We are reading the Godfather and have briefly examined the mob type qualities of the entire region. It’s not to say that the killing of someone’s good friend is what creeped me out, it’s something else that I cannot put my finger on. Something to do with me as a person writing it. Perhaps it is because my other scenes are so dorky, and some of my classmates actually write quite astonishing and wonderful things. Or maybe it is just because I don’t want to be judged, plan and simple. I don’t know…I suppose I might one day.)

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Let the moon be my guide.
She is my God.
She is Lady of the sky, the younger sister of the Earth.
The great mother that is Earth
The great father that is Sun.
She leads him.
She runs circles around her sister, teasing him.
Leads him to the ends of the land, her eye ever winking.

Let me find the place where the water in me cut the land.
The land, which is the boy.
Find that place where I used to well up inside its deep places.
The lamp holder lives there.

Too late?
I’m pouring into the oceans.
I flow tediously, suddenly impregnated with salt.
Floating on my back I cry to the Moon.
By day the Sun pulls me ever closer to the heavens.
My time as that river is done.

Now I’m floating above the Earth.
I look down upon her, suspended between all three.
A sweet trinity, the truest trinity
I see the creatures, deer and elephants.
I slip out with the wind.
Pouring down on to their backs.
Seep into the arms of the Earth, a foreign part of her this time.

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The Last Place on Earth

The Surfing Hippos of Gabon Africa
Originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

You know when you see someone who does something that transcends all humanity? I don’t know what I’m talking about, but last night I attended a slide show presentation called, “The Last Place on Earth”. I had heard it was just about some random National Geographic Guys walking across Africa or something. But I arrived at VanDuzer Theater and there was a line, a crap load of people pushing to get in. I luckily found a seat that seemed undesirable but I actually could see mighty well. This guy from the Journalism department gave the introduction; he said they rented a special LCD projector for $1500 and that literally was the expense for the whole thing. I thought to myself, well this must be something important I guess, but no ones getting paid?

Then they both came out and the stage was literally dark, you couldn’t really make them out. It seemed they both preferred hanging out in the shadows anyways. The first guy said “my names Nick Nichols, and I’m just going to show a few of my photographs from the Grand Canyon.” He clicked the remote and suddenly the screen lit up with a brilliant Grand Canyon picture. I realized this was no ordinary photographer. He kept flipping through; each photo was National Geographic Magazine quality. He stopped at one and said, “I hate it when I am in my own photographs, but hey wanted this one for the cover, so I didn’t complain much”. I suddenly realized this guy was of tremendous importance; I realized his photos continuously grace the front of the magazine. No wonder the place was packed I thought, many people probably know his photographs but no one really knows the names. Obviously some people did because of the crowd.

Either way the two guys are photographer Michael “Nick” Nichols and ecologist J. Michael Fay. After traveling to and from Africa since 1991, Michael Fay decided to do a walk. “On September 20, 1999, Mike Fay started the ultimate walk in the woods. His “Mega transect” would reach the coast of Gabon 15 months later, on December 18, 2000. David Quammen’s three brilliant articles in National Geographic Magazine documented the journey.” And Nick Nichols flew in and out for weeks at a time taking photos of everything that Mike Fay documented. They eventually published the book “The Last Place On Earth”. They called it so because literally its one of the last places where animals have never seen humans, no logging roads have yet been cut. Eventually their work amounted to 13 national parks in the most remote places of these African countries. 13! Over 11,000 square miles.

The second part of the slide show consisted of more Nick Nichols photographs. But this time they were ones that the public has not even seen yet! We were the first ones. Nick said that the photos wouldn’t even be released until the March 2007 issue. They were of a small national Park in Chad, only 150 miles away from the chaos of Darfur. The two men spoke of how this park is the last safe place for the elephants of the region. There used to be herds of up to 300,000 roaming in and out of the park, but now there are only about 3000 due to poaching. Mike Fay and Nick Nichols have made it their new mission to set up more national parks and try to stop poaching in the area.

Either way I left in complete aw. These two guys were the people you look at in the NGM and say “wow I really wish I could do that, take all those photos, go all those places”. I was so happy I found a seat and that I got to see real Nick Nichols photos using a beautiful $1500 projector. I came home and looked at all of my desktop photos that are on a continuous rotation. All of them I take from the “picture of the day” on NG’s website. Well I have over 100 pictures on there and a huge amount of those are nick Nichols, some of which he showed at the slide show. I already knew the pictures, seen them over and over rotating on my desktop. Cool!

http://michaelnicknichols.com/
(this is nick's website, check out the photos!)

http://www.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0010/feature1/
(this is a link to a little bit of the story, theres a cool map link)

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I was sitting on Belgrade looking out over the Mediterranean today. I could see Britain far off to the North and Iraq below me to the South East. The great boot of Italy spliced the sea in half. Everywhere there were names and lines in blue and black on the green and brown surface. And I loved it all. Every last border I could make out.

Today we spread out flight maps in the KBroom, joined them together and walked across the mini scale of the earth. You could see the vastness from a satellites point of view, and I loved it. At the end of the year we have to make big posters and they are going to be displayed a long with these maps again for the rest of the community to see. Talk about pressure. I have to think of a topic write a freaking long ass paper about it, and then make a damn gigantic poster. I think geographic awareness is one of the most important mission’s geography major needs to be aware of. People just don’t know, and it needs to be known. Places need to be seen and understood.

Eh, I think I’ll do mine on food. I suppose it’s not as ground breaking as let’s say the endangered animals of the Mediterranean. But damn if I know much about the triangle of vine, wheat, and olive. Damn if I know much about Marco Polo bringing back stuff from the orient, or even who brought potatoes and tomatoes from the new world. So maybe that is an awareness issue, where does our food come from? Is the Mediterranean diet really the healthiest and why?

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All those times you’re driving, and the sun is coming through the front of your car, a great orange disk of fire, when suddenly you realize that your parents aren’t there, you’re on your own watch now.

Today I decided I wanted to write a really good paper, at least one really good paper before I leave. And the goal has bee set, but it’s one of those ones you know you most likely will not keep.

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So I am sitting in a computer lab typing and not bothering with very much. I have a mini scene due in about 50 mins, but I have only chicken scratched a few lines for it. I don’t think that’s going to get done in time.

I guess I should say that we went kayaking around Arcata Marsh, I got a blister and hope to god I don’t get freaking Staph. infection from the water. It’s not uncommon. But being out on the water is incredibly relaxing. The pool session before allowed me to get comfortable in the kayak, being strapped into a boat that won’t flip upright as easily as it flips upside down is a test of nerves. I never liked the idea of drowning for a death, too panicky. But anyways after I learned a “wet exit” or a “bow rescue” I was able to just float out there on the bay just listening to the water lapping at my boat now and then. We were in river kayaks on the bay though which made for extreme work paddling. You see river kayaks are meant to have a river pushing you along and all you really have to do is turn. But on the ocean is different, the boats don’t go anywhere and when you put your paddle in and you’re immediately going to the left rather then straight. I was constantly towards the end of the group.
As for James on the other hand, he took to it quickly. I don’t know why I ever doubt him. Physical activities come natural to him, even though he doesn’t really do any of them. He was great at fencing, is good at billiards, bowling, weight training or any simple games all the way up to complex video games etc. Anything that might require a finer touch to make the action one is performing go right, he seems to excel at. All the finer paddle strokes we learned he caught onto almost immediately and could speed around easily in his kayak. I wasn’t jealous as much as I was happy that he was getting in a boat and actually getting some kind of new and exciting experience, (just as I was for myself). Either way I was quite proud of him, he was confident doing all the rolls upside down in the pool even though he doesn’t have an aquatic background. He seemed to just fit in. I on the other hand did a billion years of junior lifeguards and practically lived in a pool everyday when I was a kid, but I still looked like a wet dog and had to scrounge up courage to let myself flip under a huge kayak. Maybe that comes from the fact that in Junior Lifeguards the last thing you want is to be attached to a plastic thing on top of you when you’re swimming in to oncoming waves. Either way the mental part for me was both enjoyable and challenging, which is a good thing. James seems to just be good at everything the bugger.
Anyways the end result of the physical part of the adventure was that I got dehydrated and totally strained my arms and shoulders as well as the part of the hand between the thumb and index finger. It was so bad that if I moved them too fast I would get extreme nausea and nearly pass out from the pain. This resulted in me being practically bed ridden all of Sunday night and most of Monday morning. I skipped out on leaving the house for school or work and spent the day at home wondering why I let myself get so weak in the first place. I hardly did any homework, except studying for a test that I go postponed to Wednesday. But as for anything else-zip. So here I am waiting and wondering what I’ll say in my next class when I am called on to hand out my non-existent scene for people to read.

On another note I got my job back partially, well till the end of September at least, and I will get paid for the work I’ve done. Cross your fingers that I will get a chance to get in on the left of work-study monies.

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Things...god damnit!

Well i lost my job today based on a little technicality down at the stupid financial aid office. I wasn't awarded federal work study this semester-and i like a retard, didnt notice. so here i am working and not even knowing i wont get paid for it. but i guess gina says they are gonna try to get something together for me. and so i was let go not by gina but by the god damn state. no income=stressed out, and also equals lesser chance of finding an apartment of our own.

I am going river kayaking this weekend. Yeah its an all day class, i'm really excited about it because it might make me feel not boring. Maybe i'll be really good and i can compete, and then i dont even have to worry about losing my job. are there river kayaking competitions?

other then that, i tried blogger beta and it frightens me-plus im too reluctant to leave all my writing here. i hope they dont delete the damn thing. maybe i should go through and try to save all my posts on to my computer. what a great process that will be.

And i also want to say, I really am going to miss steve irwin. He may have been a nut, but he did so much for a really needy cause. I really did love him, and i thank him for everything he did for the future.

i'm so sad, frustrated and pissed if you cant tell...

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I’m getting old; rather I think I am letting myself get old before my time. I can feel it in my body, which I neglect. For me exercise has to be planned and only when I am physically active can I actually do anything that is not fun. Otherwise right now you have to trick me into exercising. What I wish I could do was ride a bike all over the damn bottoms, except I don’t have one. Or drag James to the swimming pool, but he’s too fussy. Now I have let myself go. I haven’t lost or gained weight-but I’ve traded in my old swimmer and yoga muscle for fat. My aunt nearly died of two massive heart attacks she suffered a few years back, a and still I take no heed. My father had freaking quadruple bypass surgery. I honestly have no idea how my grandmother is still alive-although I think bad hearts are from my grandfathers side since I believe he died of something related.

The other day I ran into Galen, lovely Galen eating a sandwich on the quad reading the newspaper. I have commented before on where we would be if James were not in existence. Only a passing thought. But I sat down and some how I ended up telling him all about my family. He was so eager, just as Galen would be. I was fond of that.

I’m reading the Godfather. I’ve seen the movie, a few years back. It’s so goddamn chauvinist. The violence doesn’t bother me it’s the portrayal of women. I like to think that in mafia women play tremendous rolls, equal to that of men, and this book or its characters or something doesn’t bring that to light.

Still no change in schooling. No sudden inspiration to actually do the work, to accomplish something, to be noticed by professors because I have potential. It’s not there again. I was unusually thrilled by James this week. At APD, after he got home from starting his classes he passionately said that he felt similar symptoms. He had no goals to set his mind to and so he was just living. Either way I just wish that he went to HSU, a real school so that it might smite him with some inspiration to do something other then WoW. Seems I’ll be able to quit, but he will not. I beg him to, and I know that deep down the game is destroying me-that it could easily destroy us, if I finally got some balls to let it reek the havoc that it should on a relationship. Girls are week-we choose guys and we cant let go because we think it will be too hard to start over. Well that’s how I feel. Don’t get me wrong – I love him. That’s what love is when it stops being romantic. You always look at the grass on the greener side, but the damn crossing seems too dangerous. Love is compromise, and acceptance. It’s such a damn barrier sometimes. But then I think well honest to god I would be the same way alone.

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So remember when i couldnt write the other night. well the next day this finally spewed out onto paper. It's such shite, i dont even know why i think i can sort of write. i cant.

Elevator Troubles
By Caitlin Jane Corrie

LENNY, 35 years, partner of high-end dog groomers.
JAVIER, 32 years old, other partner of high-end dog groomers.
MONICA, 29 years old.
DICK, 66 years old.
HENRY, a 4 year old dog.
(New York City, Apartment building. Characters all enter a brown elevator on the ground floor. Lenny is on his cell phone. Javier is carrying Henry.)

LENNY
Mrs. Eddleman, it’s Lenny. We have Henry nice and clean for you. We’re just going in the elevator. He smells like that nice organic rose shampoo you like so much. Uh huh…uh huh… See you in a soon.

(Hangs up cell phone)

JAVIER
You think she will try to feed us her cement-meal, I mean oatmeal cookies again?

LENNY
God I hope not. You could kill someone with those things.

(Suddenly the characters hear a creaking noise, and the elevator lurches and jolts causing Monica to fall into Lenny. The elevator stops.)

MONICA
Oh sorry!

LENNY
Looks like we’ve come to a complete stop.

DICK
Dammit, I’m going to miss the damn football game!

MONICA
Press the call button maybe that will work.

(Dick presses the call button. It falls out of its socket and onto the floor. Henry starts barking, jumps out of Javier’s arm and gobbles up the button.)

DICK
Oh Dammit!

MONICA
Oh No! Think wide-open spaces, big wide-open spaces. Nebraska, think Nebraska.

LENNY
What’s wrong?

MONICA
I have an acute claustrophobia problem!

(The other characters exchange looks)

LENNY
Well not to worry. I’m sure that someone has realized that the elevator is stuck.

(As Lenny finishes his sentence the elevator starts to move up rather quickly)

DICK
That can’t be good! Dammit!

MONICA
Oh no oh no oh no!

JAVIER
Oh gosh…

LENNY
Calm down everyone! Uh uh.uh uh.

(Lenny looks around anxiously. Javier and Dick have sandwiched Monica between them, they all stand there screaming with their eyes closed. Henry is barking and jumping up at Lenny. He starts pressing all the buttons, and suddenly the elevator comes to a stop)

MONICA
Oh thank goodness!

JAVIER
Is it over?

(Javier opens one eye)

DICK
Yes.

(Suddenly they hear a big banging on the door, and firemen’s muffled voices.)

JAVIER
I thought you said it was over! Eeeek!


DICK
It is over, those are the firemen! About damn time! We’re in here!

LENNY
We’re in here!

(The door is slowly cranked open and the characters hurry out)

JAVIER
Thank you thank you!

(Javier hugs the nearest fireman passionately. Dick exits storming off mumbling about having to the take the stairs the remainder of the way and missing the pre-show of his football game)

LENNY
Are you going to be okay?

MONICA
Yes I think so. Is he going to be okay?

(She gestures at Javier who is talking to one of the firemen about how yellow is truly his color)

LENNY
I think he’s going to make it. In the meantime I need to get Henry here back to his owner Mrs. Edelman up on 29.

MONICA
Hey she’s my neighbor-makes the most awful oatmeal cookies. I’ll walk with you.

LENNY
All right. My names Lenny.

MONICA
Nice to meet you Lenny. My names Monica.

(Monica and Lenny exit talking together)

THE END

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So I’m taking Dramatic Writing. I’m supposed to be writing scenes, one due Tuesday. It’s so damn hard! I haven’t written on purpose for a long time. I mean I have written, just not with a deadline, not with goals. Maybe that’s why my writing never actually goes anywhere. I don’t have structure or focus or goals. Either way I keep writing dialogue and its just stupid. I can’t see how my characters would say something. I don’t know how they would react because I am not them. I keep thinking I should write something closer to home but I cant freaking think of anything interesting. The assignment that’s due Tuesday is called obstacles. I create a character that has goals but meets three obstacles along the way. I can’t do it! I keep thinking about how people will react to it when it’s read in class. Everything I come up with sounds stupid. I think I might be stressing out too much. I’m going to make James help me tonight. He’s funny at least he can help me write something funny. I just hope this class teaches me how to start and not abandon ideas and write something with purpose. I haven’t actually taken a “fun writing” class in a long time and it’s throwing me through a loop. Plus I have never actually written scenes. What I really want to do most of the time is make too many stage directions, or describe what the character looks like or their clothes and history. I never really thought it would be this hard. But it is-I’ve a new found respect for play writes and screen writers. I think this is the most challenging thing I have ever had to do for writing!

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So I know how I would post about going home and all that. Well I kind of just stopped writing for the summer. But here’s a brief summary:

I sold my sole to corporate America or Target. Which is not as evil as lets say Wal-Mart. But I worked there a crap load of hours to save money. All I really have to say about that is it was a worthwhile experience for many reasons. 1) I got to see what retail is like. 2) What corporate retail is like? 3) Everyone there was really nice. 3) How small town folk are-the real small town folk. 4) The opposite of what girls want as their goals in big city. Here its get married have kids-not in that order per-say. In LA it was get an education and a good job-then think about the family thing. Anyways I don’t really want to talk anymore about it-just that I hate people who rip open packages and spill things on the floor without caring!
Amongst work- I played World of Warcraft (got my druid to level 60) and hung out with geeks. So I officially name this summer-Summer of the Geek-ing. I have even begun to dabble in Dungeons and Dragons-yipes!
So I quit right before I went home for a week on vacation with James. Highlights there are that we went to Disneyland on a not too hot or crowded day. Got to see my dearest Olga and my sister from Scotland. And the last day a drunken guy deliberately pushed me in a hot tub. Where was James-putting on his shoes…ah cant blame the boy-I was in shock and we left immediately after before any flaring between people could occur.

Now I am back at school. I eat wild black berries on my walks home and try to settle my brain into school routine again-should be interesting. Classes are Geography of the Mediterranean, Urban Legends and Folklore an anthropology class, Human biology and evolution another anthropology class, Listening to the movies, and Dramatic Writing. I hope they turn out well and all seem very very interesting.
Seen Aleisha, Colin and Colleen-all doing well-all leading far more interesting and successful lives then I. Aleisha finally climbed Mount Shasta and her art astounds me more and more. Colin had another fantastic summer at the Devils Postpile and grew a damn beard, And Colleen got a sweet internship with fish and made a crap load of money.
Another thing I am looking forward to is the prospect of James and I getting our own apartment. Moving away from miserable slobby Heather, poor kid. Either way mostly I want more space-our space to put our stuff in.
Oh and if you cant tell by now James and I are still together. And yes I still love the lazy ass!

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I'm going home! more on this later...

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I could hardly stand leaving that river. I left easily in a hot car, climbing back through the hills, dodging deer and iffy parts of the road. The thing I love about rivers is that I always feel clean coming out of one. Even amongst the river bugs and moss. I came out and the 90 plus weather dried you instantly but your skin, despite the sunscreen, was river fresh-river strong. We waded out, it never got more then waist deep, just deep enough to swim against the current. The fish nibbled at our ankles and we gritted our teeth and bore the freezing parts searching for the warmer currents. I realize now I need to be near water, within easy driving distance of a body of water, something that moves and changes, but is always constant. I look at the pictures of us in the shade smiling enjoying the blanket of sunny air moving through the valley. I notice in my eyes the rivers reflection, painted across the glass iris. James’s eyes are brown just as they have always been. Like the woods solid around him, just a tinge of light penetrating from the canopy. In this terrarium James is the land and I am the water. Or something like that.

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Now, with things such as facebook and myspace one can be nosey. Back even just a few years ago, if you stopped talking to a person, it likely meant you had no idea what they had become. Now it’s on the Internet for everyone to see. I look at these pictures, people I used to play with as a kid, partying, drunk different hair cuts- me included. I don’t know if it makes me lazier, or more interested in getting in contact with these people once again. Sometimes I am jealous, sometimes I'm frightened. Mostly I feel old. I skipped, or rather, was never going to have a wild collegiate life. But it doesn’t bother me that much, plus you never know really what’s down the road.

As people get older I can see why the word meaning might grow into a flower, or brick for that matter. You keep wondering what your meaning is. When you’re young no one thinks they are going to have to actually work, the world revolves around a child in their perception. Then you learn that there’s other people suffering or reaching some level of enlightenment and one wonders where they stand in all that mess. What the hell is one supposed to be doing? Meaning is a tough word. It’s great if you can find it, bad when it’s the used the wrong way and scary when you can’t find it at all.

As for me, and anyone my age who is freaking out about their meaning in life, I don’t really think we can honestly. Twenty, you’re only twenty, I remind myself. I say, you just came out of your teenage years where things were really fucked up, and you’ve really only just begun to live. I think sometimes it just happens, we can’t necessarily go looking for it. And worrying about it certainly doesn’t help the situation. You can’t go around expecting the world to change with the snap of your fingers; you have to work at it. Everything comes with work. I hate that most-that there’s no magic spells to cure cancer, no magic seeds to regrow forests in a day, no way to really know where you are going to end up. Right now, learning to live is probably the most important thing. Gaining tools of some kind to do so.

However I still spend a lot of nights in bed talking to myself, what am I doing here? What am I going to be doing? What’s the difference between the bed and me? Who is this person laying next to me, and why do I wan them to be there next to me? I guess this is why faith is so attractive, especially to people who are getting older. They want to know they fit, and they are wanted, that they were meant to be put on this earth, that they have meaning.

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I don’t want my mind to bother. I hadn’t listened to music in a while, and I do now. Suddenly it makes me move, makes my eyes soft and I wish for everything to beautiful. The things my mind sees as dark, to go away. My passion trodden on. Yet my anxiety declined to a blissful breeze. One’s you feel up your skirt, behind your ears. Which one do I choose?

God the sun was deep in me today. I could only stand it for an hour, before my wintry acclimated skin could no longer take it. I was reading, forcing my body to get used to summer again.

I want to be able to touch the map on my wall and go there instantly.

The high desert at sunset, the seaside hot and salty, the woods after summer rain; those places are me, what I am made of. Cracked concrete, need.

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I feel like I am looking at myself the way I might look at a history book. It’s just the big events, important to someone and no one at the same time. And you never really know how they happened, it just did, and now here we are in the perils of our time. Loosing touch with what we used to be everyday and moving towards cold metal. I wish I could know what it was, and is, to be so intimately connected with the earth that you can sense a storm hours away and tell where the path is in the woods. But those days will never be, and they are disappearing for those who know those things. They will be gone soon, ground into powder and swallowed up by the oozing cancer.

I think for me, I submerge things, weigh them down into a pool, where eventually they pile up and I can see them surface slowly. Then things get dark, the light flickers and I grow irritable, frustrated and I want to distance myself from the things that matter most. One day I get pushed over the edge, and I have to stare at these things floating around what a seemingly pristine pool. All I can remember from those times, is rushing into the water tossing and churning up a whirlpool of these things. Ultimately I want the objects to be the way I want them to be, because I feel like only then will things be perfect. When finally they settle to the bottom again, I am numbed, walking around blinded, even more distant. But now I am wading everyday into that pool to push them down-wanting the pond to swirl around naturally without intervention, just acceptance. I just want to let things be, because why should they change? Yet deep down in my belly I know that there is unrest, there is this thorn trying to tell me something but I wont listen. I wonder sometimes, if the pool is a place I have created over this past year-for it will be a year soon, in order to keep myself in a safe place. No worries about love, place.

I’ve been playing WoW. Although I know it’s such an awful disease that I vowed never to catch, because it is the seed of the things that I try to drown in my pool and the cancerous metal that is swallowing up the human being, I still go back to it. It’s mindlessness, like watching TV, letting it do the thinking for me. Not only that but the attention I get from the Guildie’s draws me in. I feel childish, like a middle school girl shaving her legs for the new boy at school-the one rumored to have a crush on you. I like “boy company” frankly.

In an effort to counteract the numbness of my swirling pool and the numbness of WoW, I have been drawing and I recently picked up a book. Books were my first lovers. They pleasured me, gave me strength and hope, taught me how to live. But they are gone now, replaced by flesh and dripping wet metal, twirling down into the bottom off the pool.

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Equatorial Scale 1:32,000,000 Van Der Grinten Projection

Druid
Originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

Mostly I spend my time letting the days run out of me. Everything is still moving in it is continuous cycles, and the night comes and the mornings come and it’s all the same. Everything is the same.

My breath is shallow, I long for a heaving chest, sun on my burned skin and my body rushing through the air.

Close my eyes, pat them closed, leave flowers on them, leave me on the sand, just the sound of the ocean.

Hands gesturing and sparkling, silk and fine beads laced through my fingers.

I miss vegetables.

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For May Day or rather Beltane,

In all the world of heathendom there was no such thing more beautiful then Beltane. The goddess came down to earth on that eve to mingle with the hearts of mortals and cast them into each other arms. It was with this, that young Juniper came to a sacred grove in a trance. Wearing only a simple linen dress of green and a ring of flowers on her brow she stepped into the glen. Other young people came too drawn by the hand of the Goddess. There was a great fire lit, a Bard sang gently plucking the strings of his harp. The blood orange light of the fire mingled with the silver moon glow so that the whole glen and the surrounding grove was bright. The foxtail and white blossoms amongst the grass were ablaze in the light. Juniper saw that some were dancing softly to the Harper, others sat and watched the fire, leaning back on their elbows. Some had even begun to whisper gently into one another’s ears. Juniper walked around the glen admiring the Mother’s work sprouting from the earth. She knelt running her fingers through the grass. To her it seemed time had slowed so that her hands moved with the pace of the seasons change.
When she rose the Harper cast his sight in her direction and she smiled back at him, she realized he was looking beyond her. She turned to see Finbar her Uncle’s young esquire. He was taller then her, not lanky and yet not at all heavy set. His eyes were blazing from the light of the fire. She looked back at the Harper but he had turned his attention towards the sky. She felt Finbar behind her. This was not the boy who blushed and hid his eyes from her every time they spoke at court. He had become bold, no doubt the Goddess had inspired some sort of courage in him this eve. He took her hand and she turned to look at him. He pressed his mouth to hers and they kissed. He held her close to him. He let his hands move all over her body and she enjoyed it. She felt as if he had always been next to her, that their hearts were bound, She smiled as he held her close to him. And she was lined with silver from the moon and filled up with warm gold from the fire. If he left her then she would die of sorrow in the instant. But he did not and they lay together in the grove and after looked at the stars wielding overhead. When morning came she opened her eyes to see him sound asleep, his arms wrapped around her. She sat up and recovered her dress and with her fingers arranged her healthy reddish copper hair as neatly as she could. He arose then and blushed. They looked at each other for a little while, noticing that the feelings of the night before were not just for the occasion, but had spilled over them like the sun over the horizon that morning.

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From April 13
All the roads led to it, it's I had to be forced down one to get there. I couldn’t cry anymore, and the rattling in my body was the only thing that seemed constant. Sometimes the whole situation seemed beyond comprehension, but it happened. Mostly I remember the anger and plain mean tone in my voice. I remember waiting, always waiting, and this time for the right response. However I had no idea what the right response would be. Soon I lost sight of everything. That’s never happened before. It was like the light had gone out, and I suddenly lost a huge chunk of faith from what I have believed to be the most concrete thing in my whole life. It wasn’t there, I couldn’t find it. Usually it’s the only thing flooding my mind when I take that step back and remember what I was fighting for to begin with. But the cause wasn’t there. I was so frightened. You started pulling away from me so quickly, like you were driving away in a car and I could see your face through the back window. I thought you might run into walls, you seemed so lost all of a sudden. For fear of breaking you in half I said simply, “maybe if I touch you I’ll remember”. And you sat on the bed next to me and held out your hand, it was cool in my own. That was it. I did remember, suddenly all of the glass that had shattered across the room and in the air came colliding back together like our bodies. And I didn’t know if it was working but I didn’t let go. I asked you to make me laugh. and I tried to burrow my way into your chest and I waited. When we finally did get to sleep mode, I said tomorrow I’d know. The next morning I woke up and I remember Heather in the other room excitedly talking to herself, as she does, about the change of weather we were to expect during the day. It was going to be sunny; the wind was going to give the north coast a much-welcomed day of rest from its relentless water soaking.

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“ack im one year less then 20 freaky! yeah i dont feel different but thats how birthdays work. Either way alot of stuff i suppose has happened in the last year, mostly in this year of the last year, am i making any sense no? but do i ever make any sense. Im just talking right now, just letting my fingers do the transcribing. I dont know what the next year will hold but i find i dont like looking ahead far. And another thing ive over come the regret that i feel about certain things. i realize that eventually one comes to understand that everything had to happen this way or the good things you have now ( and the bad) would not be in your life right now. You would be a totally different person if you had said no, or if you had said yes or whatever....I dunno i dont want to say everything happens for a reason-but everything does happen and obvioulsy it brings you to where you are now for better or for worse. i guess my point is being alive is what im happy for right now. being able to feel is what im happy for, i dont ever want to go completely numb. I dont want to go back to that time i had forgotten about. i almost feel like its sneaking up on me again though, but this time nstead of being numb about it, im letting fill me up. “

This is what I wrote about on my last birthday March 25, 2005. My recent birthday just passed on Saturday and I read back over what I had written a year ago. I’ve been reading in between the lines and I know now that I was truly uncertain on that day, My words were merely blankets to cover that. In context I know that I had just been through rough times and I thought the near future would either be loneliness or filled with events similar to the happenings of last February. Anyway on my birthday night last year, I tumbled into a bottle of vodka and let Dionysus and his maenads pull me into a state of chaos, which later in the year re-birthed into ecstasy once I finally left the campus grounds. I came back renewed with a new poll of support to lift the roof. And here I am at school, not successful in the academic parts, but I do not thing I ever was or ever will be in that department, but supremely satisfied and excited about what I have now in life. Or should I say whom I have now in life. Oh yeah and being 20 feels the same.

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From March 3
My skin is wet. I want it to be thin like silk and to slowly let the water drip through. In between the storms I live to let the wind blow my hair in all directions. I think of where it came from and I want to go to those places some day. The flowers in the trees are like white plastic spoons. I dream that last night it snowed on just those threes.

There’s a strange feeling I get when I think about the separation. The growing canyon between myself and old and new friends I have. It seems everyday I am letting them slip away even though I don’t mean for it to happen of course. It’s just happening because of the different things we do and places we are in both physically and mentally.

Really truly I don’t know whom I will know in the future. It’s had to think of a scenario that James would not be in or that I would not wish him to in. Seems he wriggles his way into my dreams so that he were so close to me as to be my hand or spine.

Continued (today)...
Sometimes in the dark times I wonder if something’s are squished. I wonder if I am the grapefruit I push on to the juicer. Vital life is being squeezed out leaving the empty skin hallowed. But I am happy, there is no way getting around it. When I feel sad the stregnth of the feeling is never too strong to push me over into pools I once squabbled in. There seems to always be a hand reaching down through the shimmering light of the lantern. I never stray to far from it's safety and it always rescues me, always...

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Young Pilgrims by The Shins

A cold and wet November dawn
and there are no barking sparrows
just emptiness to dwell upon.

I fell into a winter slide
and ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow
just eking out my measly pipe.

But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I
know there is this side of me that
wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just
fly the whole mess into the sea.

Another slow train to the coast
some brand new gory art from way on high
I sink and then I swim all night.

I watch the ice melt on the glass
while the eloquent young pilgrims pass
and leave behind their trail
imploring us all not to fail.

Of course I was raised to gather courage from those
lofty tales so tried and true
if you're able, I'd suggest it 'cause this
modern thought can get the best of you.

This rather simple epitaph can save your hide, your falling mind
fate isn't what we're up against there's no design, no flaws to find
there's no design, no flaws to find.

But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I
know I got this side of me that
wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just
fly the whole mess into the sea.

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This is something I wrote in class today (obviously a little rewritten):

Dragon fly wings.
Raccoon tails hanging from my ears.
Under dead leafs I like to sleep.
My lips are red as blood, and my eyes dark as charred wood.

Feathery white wings.
My slippers are of soft river moss.
The canopy of the trees, by the sun and the moon, is where I dwell.
Blossoms and dew sit upon my brow.

As for WOW...i'm still at it. level 21 night elf hunter. What am i doing....

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“If you can’t beat em, join em.”
Let me start at the beginning. Back in the day I used to play video games because I thought it was funny and fun, mostly funny. I would just press every button and have no idea what I was doing and just laugh and laugh. But James came along. My lovely freaking James and all his crazy gaming craziness. Back in October I started messing around playing Super Smash Brothers Melee remembering the good old times laughing and what not. Colin came over quite often and the three of us would duel. My chosen character Pikachu, Colin as Marth and James as Ganondorf. James mind you is a two-year freaking veteran at this game and knows Ganondorf as if he were his own uncle or something; Colin has a history of video games but stopped when he realized they were too distracting from his studies. And there’s me no knowledge or past experience. And over the days I learned Pickachu and everything the little yellow rat thing does. Mostly James just kicked our Asses. Even two on one was nearly impossible. Either way break came around or I was excited to play with some of the guys back home who are also extremely good players. Wesley –who plays as Sheik and Philippe who plays as Falco were caught off guard the first few rounds but soon figured out my wimpy little lightning bold moves and tore me up. Still this allotted for much practice, I could safely say I played maybe an hour a day. Soon I was getting two three lives on James in a five life match. I started actually caring and making sure everything I was doing wasn’t random, and I started improving over that month I gained so much experience that when I came back to Humboldt I had earned the nickname “pika-whore” and I could definitely hold my own. Now I have been practicing with Fox and almost every time I can beat James although I am sure soon he will be able to kick my ass once he gets used to me again. He has a knack for games in general and seems to be able to catch on a perform beautifully at anything that requires that “gamers mindset or strategy”. But yes this was only the beginning.
So yes Fox fits my fighting style and yes I swore this would be the only video game I would ever play. However James plays WoW or World Of Warcraft. Something I despise with all my heart because it is one of the main reasons for stress in our relationship. I understand that he never wanted to get started in the first place, but when it causes you to sit on your ass at home not getting work it really does put a damper on any situation. Either way he finally got his night elf hunter to level 60 and the time he spent on the game tapered off, and we went home for break. There all his friends (who all play WoW too, except the wise ones) talked and talked and talked about it till I thought I would die from realizing that it could destroy the damn world. Boys (and girls) all over the world would start playing WoW instead of going to work and entire economies would fail. We came back after a long break without fighting about WoW. And classes started for both of us this time and things seem generally better. Then one day out of the blue I was like hey can I mess around on that. I warn all this is the worst move one can make if you wish to avoid this game. I start messing around and suddenly quests are being thrown at me and lo and behold I let James put the game on my comp for ten day free trial and I have a level 10 night elf hunter in less then a week. How the hell did this happen!!!!! I go from hating the game to playing it?! WTF Now I’m wondering if I let James off easy. Or did I just solve all our problems by playing a game that caused us so much grief. Also his upcoming start at Target seems to be relieving some stress, and the fact that we can play on the game together at the same time, and the fact that he is dedicating time to school also seems to have relieved a lot of tension. But what do I tell all my girlfriends whom I complained to so much about it. I just gave in? Maybe I should just keep it on the DL for a while see if it lasts. But the good thing is it’s not getting in the way of school work in fact I started this in the height of the first midterm round and all the grades I have gotten back so far are a’s and b’s. So if you cant beat em join em I suppose…we shall see how things go for the next ten days…I’ll try to report back on whether I am turning into a gamer or if I’m just experimenting-hell its college.

Check this out if one is bored and has time on their hands I happen to think its really really funny. Don’t blame me if you don’t!
http://www.dubbed.rules.it/

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I read back over my blog today not surprised to find that I have grown since I started back then. Gosh am I thankful that I have grown. I will always stand by my realization that college saved my life. Education saved my life. I wonder sometimes where I would be without it, probably at home the same mostly, except that I think I would comprehend things differently and my mind would be quite narrow compared to now. Last night (and often at night) I was scared again. I don’t know of what but I just lay there and I feel like things are pulling away from me, and the sky is ever expanding until space is all there is. I think I’m just frightened about the future only because I do not know what is coming up. I don’t want certain things in my life to end, or to start for that matter. James sleepily listened to me and tried to answer my questions but he either doesn’t think the same way I do, or he had no idea what I'm talking about to begin with. Poor boy, I give him the worst time. All he wants to do is go to sleep and I sit there blabbing on about bluntly honest things. I don’t understand how he can stand to be with me. Last night I told him how I continually want to change him in to what I want him be. A couple of my friends say they have that problem in relationships too. I don’t really want him to change; I just want him to grow. I want him to do everything he possibly can to be the best person he can be. And in my opinion to do that is to read, go to school and have an open mind, and so I think James should do the same. Then I think to myself, well he does do those things on occasion and he has other things that make him grow too. But I realize what I want him to do is think the same way I do. I like to think of myself as ever growing. I mean that I am never fixed in one concrete spot. That my mind is ever growing and adapting to the new things I learn and that challenge my bias and sometimes even convert them. Jeez I say to myself. Aren’t I always the one to say there are more ways to approach life then one can ever know and there is not one right way to do it, so that gives me literally no right to feel the way I do. Sigh…I'm destructive sometimes, and I disappoint myself a lot. But as I said I’m ever growing and maybe one day I’ll get over it.

I am taking Living Myths: The Quest for Self with David Sander. It’s a religious studies 300 level course. It’s my favorite class and so far topping the charts of favorite classes at Humboldt State University. Basically we are exploring myth as a primordial and universally human way of knowing. Myth means story in Greek. Some things my teacher said about the course: “we can think of myth as a forest of unknown size. We are going to take a likely looking path into the forest, but by the time we get to the other side, we will have seen only a fraction of the whole. Even so, we will have gained experience to help us when we reenter the forest in the future, on different paths…myth is a medium between self and other, between time and eternity, and between conscious and unconscious levels of our being…Myths create worlds of perception and meaning, and these worlds have boundaries. In each of these worlds are an everyday place, an underworld and a heaven, and in each is a sacred center. The center is the focus of the quest. Our understanding of this quest comes through symbols, and there are few definitive answers.”

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In the bathroom I turned all the lights off, and raised the water higher then usual. It was burning hot; my feet were red for hours after. The steam swirled around me and I thought I was outside in the freezing cold mist of Humboldt. On my stomach I was able to submerge my head and ears so that I could get some sort of pure silence. The TV and voices disappeared. The silence was comforting and there the water burned up a lot of anger. I blew bubbles and threatened the water with a surge of waves. I lay half suspended in the tiny tub and thought about how I could be better. There was no offer of advice. Minutes passed and I continued to soak my face and submerge my ears. The water was the place I felt best, the best of the whole day in the hot water. I imagined it passing through my skin to my soul where it tried so hard to cleanse. Warm water makes me feel safe; I think the warmth is precisely the reason why. Baths are always my first remedy for almost anything. I reluctantly left the tub later, and returned silent. I was warm in the chill of the room. Nothing could touch me. And I waited again, just waited for something. Always waiting.

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Houda Point Sunset
Originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

January 16
Humboldt again. This time we drove up the 101 all the way. It was raining and we must have seen about twenty separate rainbows on the way up. The 101 between Santa Barbara and San Francisco, follows the east side of the Coast Ranges through the rift valley. In the rainy season the valley is green and the stormy clouds part letting in patches of sunlight fall on the hills. Our neighbor says we missed one of the worst storms in Northern California’s history. Power was out in some parts of the county for the better part of a month. Hundreds of downed trees, and potholes. Landslides had washed out the 101 and we had to be escorted through the area by a truck. CalTrans workers were posted along the wrecked guardrail watching the hillsides ominously. Parts of the road just seemed to be slipping away down the slope. We had to spend the night in Willits (Haha Willits) because they shut the road off completely for the night. But eventually we made it back to the remote area that I love so much.

January 24
David Hume says we are bundles of perceptions, structure and convention guide us. Alan Watts says we follow logos, defining, labeling trying to separate to understand things. Mythos however brings us into harmony with flow and reality. The Great Stream. The rapture as Joseph Campbell would call it. Mythos is a medium for us to touch the divine. In almost every mythology including the bible when a mortal asks to look upon the face of the divine he is told he will certainly perish, but the divine reveals itself in indirect ways and so a mortal may withstand some physical connection and not die. Rumi the Muslim poet said a story is like water in that it is heated for a bath. We only touch the water, not the fire that heats it; therefore water is a medium for interacting with the fire but not getting burned. In physics we study the particles that make up life. We see patterns, flux and no defining lines between us and the sky, us and the animals, us and the desk and chair you sit at. Everything in constant motion. We continually denote things, giving them words, symbols so that the thing and the word become interchangeable. Connotation allows us to see reality in-between the lines and all the things going along with the word we have given something. So it is impossible to encounter reality, which is everything not just, sectioned off into one thing through denotation/logos we can only reach it through mythos/connotations.

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