one hundred. thirty four.

please take this moment to notice that i have changed my background.
this is the first time this has ever happened.
seeing as i am completely stupid when it comes to computers, html & all of that nonsense, this is a bold move for me.
thank you blogger, for just making me a little button i could push to change it.
i can't really compete with the people who have really lovely, creative pages, so this will have to do.

there is one guy who comes into the coffee shop & every time it's an interesting affair.
he's a real hippie guy.
one time he stopped in & cursed us for using sugar packets because of the waste we were accumulating.
another time he stopped in & told us he was using our old coffee bags to carry around his grains & vegetables.
another time he stopped in & filled us in on how he was going to go and live in a sustainable community & smoke a lot of weed.
he stopped in today. he brought his own mug, of course, to save the earth.
i noticed some milky liquid left in the bottom of his mug, so i figured i'd rinse it for him. also, we always fill mugs with hot water to warm the cup before we put in the coffee.
tragedy strikes.
the liquid in the bottom was actually his ORGANIC ALMOND MILK!!
logical situation: tell me as you're handing me the cup that you already put in your own cream. this is what people have said before. pretty simple.
actual situation: literally watch me pour the milk down the drain and then cry out in horror.
He settled for some soymilk.
He did make a stink about it though because our soymilk is not organic like his almond milk was. Therefore his cup of coffee was less "conscious."
Our drain, however, is pretty conscious now. drinking up some organic almond milk....

A man [double cup 2% latte guy] told me today that I looked older since the last time he saw me in the early summer.
This was nice to hear.
I never get told that. Instead I get asked what high school I go to.
Also was nice because I actually feel older.
In saying that, perhaps I betray my youth. It seems that older people always feel younger than they are, making them frustrated by their broken down bodies, while younger people feel "so old" but never really are.
But still.
I do feel oldish, somehow.
But that's also not good because in looking "older" or as he stated afterward "more mature," reveals something about my life at this point.
Before people thought I was younger because I apparently had some youthful appearance, a mixture of awkwardness, a certain amount of innocence and a measure of trust.
Things are different now. I feel different now. Is it so overdone to say that I feel like I've lost bits of that? I don't care if it is. It's the truth, though perhaps I'll back on this & roll my eyes.

"& if everything is measured by the hole it leaves behind
then this mountain has been leveled
& there's no more diamonds in the mine."

Goodness gracious, look at me.
go ahead, roll your eyes.
start me off I just will not quit.
Enough of this.
Do you know, I played the piano tonight & it was quite marvelous?

one hundred. thirty three.

Lately I have been enjoying wine a little bit more.
I've never been much of an alcohol person, in any way. But I've always wanted to be a wine person, or a I-brew-my-own-beer person. You know? It just seems like one of those things that interesting people do. I could be interesting. I could like wine.
Note:: The wine I have been enjoying has been something on the sweeter side, more of a grownup grape juice. I'm going to count it anyway.

This has been a week of dynamic proportions. Started work, had auditions, callbacks & casting for the show, looking for a car [unsuccessful], etc...last night I got 3 hours of sleep. Now it's 8:40 at night and I am still kicking, no nap involved. Strangely, since I've been home from camp in July I've been totally failing at power napping. Usually I excel at a decent power nap. Now I can only occasionally nap, and only when I'm riding in the car [I'm like a baby when it comes to car rides, out like a light]. This is mildly distressing, I have no idea what's happened to me.

I love a good train ride, but do not like being confronted by a drunken guy on the train. Today, on the way home, a jolly man stopped on his way back from the lavatory to ask me what book I was reading. Unfortunately he was too intoxicated to actually understand me. When I told him it was a book on doctrine [it really was, I know that sounds suspiciously like me trying to conceal that I was reading a romance novel...] he bellowed: "WHAT?! DOCTRY?!" loud enough for the whole train to hear. Thank you drunk man.

Here is what I want:
I want a plate of Eggo waffles.
I want to write down everything.
I want to know what to do now.

one hundred. thirty two.

in short, it's been rough.

the fellow and i are no longer the fellow and i.

it's just the fellow

and i.

you see?

i could go into all of the melodramatic details

in which i become everything typical & cliche about a breakup

[days in pajamas, ice cream sandwiches, sad songs & all that]

but i will practice some self-control.

instead i will say that after all of that

i crawled out of my little pit of self-pity

& the sun was shining.

so, thats good.

i have started back at work, which is grand.

also started choreographing a show

[which i should be working on right now]

which is also grand.

reading some books

finished some other books.

2 books you should think about reading:

The Prodigal God [Timothy Keller]

Food Inc. [A collection of fascinating essays]

I also worked my way through 2 mystery novels which I feel a little bit of guilt about, but only a little bit because they were actually so fun to read.

Guilty pleasures that are good:

A mouthful of whipped cream

Mystery novels

Hours spent on etsy.com

Guilty pleasures that are bad:

Facebook stalking

Impulse buying on etsy.com

Brownies for breakfast

Alright, really going to go & work on dances now.

you go & listen to strict joy by the swell season, tell me how much you love it.

one hundred. thirty one.

I have just devoured my body weight in whole-wheat blueberry/walnut pancakes.
[i love breakfast for dinner. it seems so rebellious.]
I am also waiting for my zucchini bread to come out of the oven.
I'm convincing myself that zucchini bread is healthy because it comes from zucchini from our garden. Let's forget about the 83 cups of sugar that went into it, shall we?
I'm also trying to convince myself that all of this overeating is completely fine because I worked out for an hour this morning and then for lunch had a spinach salad. The workout was from a workout DVD, one of those aimed for the slightly larger folk who need to lose weight, which makes it all the more disconcerting that I was struggling to keep up. We'll disregard the implications presented by the fact I was having trouble keeping up with a portly person workout DVD.

Bread is out. Did I bake it for too long?? Shooot.

I think I have a loose tooth. I'm 22 and I'm still losing baby teeth. Loving this.
Just wiggled it. Yup. Definitely loose. It kills now.

Tai & mom are watching a movie in the other room, so I should go & join them. I should also multitask and write the fellow a letter. Last night I tried to multitask and crochet a sock while watching "The Young Victoria." The movie = super good. The sock = dismal failure.
& so it goes.

one hundred. thirty.

the more I read Annie Dillard, the more I want to read.

the more i want to write, too.

Not anything in particular. just to write is enough. just to recall and put down various bits & pieces.

the more i think on it, the greater my resolve grows.

[but how far my resolve is from my carrying out!]

i struggle now & then & now with what defines me

is it you?

is it what i make of myself?

my work?

my music?

the people who call me friend

& what they think of me?

these words, even?

i forget that "in Him we live, and move, and have our being."

He is what defines me.

& His glory is my aim.

To that purpose, then, pressing forward.