shouts of joy

We took a fast trip to Boise this weekend. Went to the farmers market. Played a lot of Dutch Blitz, football and Taboo. Made great home cooked meals and ate around a crowded table. We went to bed late and woke up early and studied on the drive back home. Studied for a Spanish test until I was car sick. Got home and ran until sweat was dripping off my face, gross? Yes. Don't worry, I showered before I went to Whitman. Here I've sat for the past two hours where I've made an hourly schedule to study Spanish for an hour, Math for an hour, back to Spanish and so on.The trees out the big windows in front of me are reflecting gold but I don't have a good enough camera to capture the glow, so the mac photo booth will have to be enough proof. I found out that my last Spanish test resulted in a B- but not this time. Watch out Whitman here comes the Spanish!

I can't tolerate the sponges that soak up the optimism and energy.  Ah, why can't they just wade in the puddle?  

We went to the corn maze and carved pumpkins this weekend... Roasted pumpkin seeds... Pumpkins remind me of India. Dried pumpkin, curried pumpkin, sugared pumpkin, pickled pumpkin, white pumpkin, orange pumpkin. Next time it'll be carved pumpkin!

A few weeks ago I spent the weekend in Spokane with my awesome friend Emily who is currently volunteering in a health clinic in Chad, Africa. She has been doing a lot of cooking and baking the past few months and recording her creations on her facebook. Sketchy stuff for Emily! She once created a carrot soup that got the name "mush" after it's texture. The weekend I visited I suggested we make crepes for Sabbath morning breakfast. She suggested we color them. So I suggested green and orange for pumpkins. Today I was missing my dear friend, so in preparation for Sabbath I made pumpkin poptarts for Emily. If she were here they would have been multi-colored. But here they are.

This is the first year of college I've remained two years back-to-back, and I'm getting antsy. I'm ready to jump out of my seat and fly away. I need space and fresh air. Being cooped up inside the past few days has encouraged my mind to travel the world. I'd like to be back in India right now, as the weather is beginning to cool to a tolerable temp. I'm not a fan of the frost on the grass and could settle for a warm place like Tahiti, but more than that (from someone whose always lived in the mid/northwest) I've always wondered what Boston would be like in the Fall... 

Funny, the things that bother us, our pet peeves, the little stuff that nobody understands. I'm sick today and part of me wishes I was sick more often. Because when I'm sick I just don't care. The peeves that creep into my little house don't matter. I see the dirty mug and I shrug it off. I see the plant in the corner needs a drink but I let it go. I see the paper on the floor but I'm not going to pick it up. Oh, those stupid water stains on the faucet... you bother me! But I'm not going to move a muscle. The little things just aren't that important. There's something more important here. I gotta get back to tip-top, ship-shape so I can take my Spanish test tomorrow, go climbing, go for a walk with Jacque and Beau, have a meeting to figure out camp stuff, make copies of my car keys, add a 1 credit class, and reschedule a meeting with a professor. Oh, peeves you can wait!

While I've been on this hunt to step away from what I know as comfy and dependable, I've talked with alot of people about "real" things. I like real talks. Not just the, "Hey, what's your name and major?" sort of empty talk. When I talk real with people, it's amazing how much they'll open up without too hard of a nudge, not everyone is that easy to open, but some let me dig. Some can get "real" pretty darn quick and I've seen a common pattern among these "realers". They've been hurt, they've tried to move on, some are on their way out, some are on their way in. Some are trying to find what they lost, and some are trying to give without having anything to give. We all have seen similar stories or been a similar character, and somehow we all repeat it again and again. Maybe, just maybe, the next person we have a "real" talk with could be a part of the next story.

I've been stepping out of my area to make new friends. Explore opportunities that I've never considered. I've introduced myself to chatty girls, quiet geniuses, bubbly spirits, generous givers, and my least favorite the crude blokes. In the past week I've heard a lot of ear aching language that ties my stomach into knots. And I've seen gestures that make me look away real fast. Honestly, I don't want to judge, but for some reason my stomach drops and I lose hope in future friendships. I've been enjoying my time stepping out, but I'm not sure how many more steps I can take before I turn around. My good friend LP, I miss you!

I was overwhelmed today. Not myself a single bit. A little... no a lot fidgety, discontent, and anxious. I had a long list of "To Do's" today and only crossed off one thing (disappointment to the max). A friend called me this morning and told me I was a "ditcher." Oh, right, don't forget "flake" as well (all for the sake of stupid homework). I've heard these names before, in the past I've always laughed it off and let the name tag stick, at the same time my resistance to conflict pounds me through the floor. But not today. I tore off that dumb tag and shoved it right back (yep, through the phone line) where it came from. It's not fair that I get tagged with guilt because a friend can't trust me. But really? What sort of friendship can be rooted without trust? Zero, zilch, nada, impossible. Yeah, I'll say it's a risk, and a pretty big one! A risk worth taking? Well, that's up to you, but come on, give me a fair chance.

How long do you wait after you knock, before knocking a second time?  Or go to the next house? 

Love makes burdens lighter,  because you divide them. It makes joys more intense,  because you share them. It makes you stronger,  so that you can reach out and become involved with life in ways you dared not risk alone.   - Anonymous  

I've misplaced my precious hours of sleep the past two weeks and it's beginning to catch up with me. Today, with a couple of old friends, I tracked down my old coach from the school I attended for 10 years in Colorado. It was the first time I'd seen him in 7 years. After I left for class he told my once upon a time gangly, freshman classmates that I looked more mature, adult like, older than... them. Really? I'm not that old, actually I've always been young for my grade. I am young. And I'd like to blame my aged appearance on the fact that I have not been absorbing my zzz's. I like living in my own house, but I think sleeping is more relaxing when it's understood that there's someone who has got your back. 

Sometimes you just know what's happening. You look up for a split second and the story makes sense, you know there's a story. Sometimes all it takes is a sparkle of the eye. 

I used to love baking. In high school I would come home for home leaves or long weekends and bake. I would come home from my days off at summer camp and bake, then sleep. Leave me alone in a kitchen and I'll create something with or without a recipe, maybe tasty, maybe not. When I went to India baking became such a hassle. No oven, no ingredients, we had to make do with what we had. Yes, "we" had to make do. Not "I". It was tough adjusting to having an extra body in the kitchen, not really a lot of space, and I need space. But since returning from India, baking and cooking haven't been the same. I'm not a fan of cooking or baking alone, especially eating alone. So I don't cook or bake much anymore, and when I eat... I eat while running somewhere. But tonight an awesome friend came over and we made dinner together. For the first time all week I enjoyed a super tasty, home-cooked meal with quality conversation and a good amount of laughing. I love bei

I love the unexpected, breathtaking, butterfly-filling emotions.  The feelings that you can't contain, they tackle the voices upstairs that motivate security, consistency... dullness. It's like riding a roller coaster. Sitting in the locked seat, swinging feet, the conscience upstairs says it's a dangerous move, suddenly he tries to fight back by sending unrhythmic heart beats and perspiration. But when it drops the wind leaves the lungs, the butterflies are set free and the voice is scared away.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about this board that I'm creating. Somedays I really think about it. Today was one of THOSE days. I thought about it a lot. I asked myself, "what am I good at? passionate about? what do I love?...." Then it hit me like a pound of bricks. I'm good at reaching out to people. I love spending quality adventures with the ones I love and somedays that means talking by the river and other days that means an impulsive tandem bike ride that only leads to flat tires or maybe playing catch in the lawn or a last minute trip. In high school my friends used to tease me because I never wanted to watch movies or play games, I just wanted to (what I would call) "bond." Enjoy the quality of our company, with sharing stories, laughing, adventures. I l ove it! I love people and digging up all the dirt to patch the deep holes so that a playground can be constructed over the top.  And so the board of goals will be globbed with perso

The shell is so strong and rigid. So colorful and unique. Yet a very mysterious disguise.  A solid protection for what's underneath. Eventually the shell will only be a prison of solitude. The mystery will soon be revealed. Freedom will edge through. And the fear of uncertainty will be gone. It's only just beginning. 

Today is Friday. Awesome!   Except that I'm eating burnt toast this morning... aye! This morning I'm putting off getting ready for class... because my first class is Spanish, and mi espanol es muy muy muy mal. La profesora... ella habla muy rapido. Despacio por favor! It's been a LLLLLOOOOONNNNNGGGGGG week. The longest first week of school ever recorded. Good times and bad times. Climbing and sitting. Running and walking. Spanish and english. Burnt toast and unburnt toast. Whew....