Pilgrims- June 26, 2012

The great move is coming and I get more and more excited EVERYDAY!
I can't wait to have a better room mate who respects me and is friendly and reasonable. I can't wait to enjoy the ocean again, and the clean water and fresh rivers and mountains. I can't wait to eat veggies and fruits that haven't been shipped or frozen! I can't wait to see my family more often and start couples yoga! I can't wait to begin working on classes for my major! I can't wait to find a job I want to be at for more than a week! I can't wait to have rain on a weekly or daily basis! I can't wait to go to co-ops, Trader Joe's, and Ross! I just LOVE the Pacific Northwest with ALL of my heart and everything it stands for-the idiots, the hippies, the tightwads, the vegetarians, and the nerds and the beach bums.
I am so grateful I had the experience to live in the Midwest-I met a few amazing people, I tried a few new things, I saw my first flood/mini tornado, I ate my first Chipper, and I adopted Oliver-the love of my mommy life! Most importantly I learned who I am and who I am not and to be grateful everyday for the culture I was raised in and the freedom as an American I have to move and get an education wherever I please.
Peace Out!

Today and Everyday-it never goes away!

A Youth and a Yearning

Starving in all paths of the word,

This baby-eyes curse eats me alive.

Thriving and then shriveling up again,

Never satisfied.

Don’t be unfair to me world,

You ought to know by now why I am this way.

Why I am so selfish for human touch and valid experiences,

Like a settlement I feel entitled to as time progresses.

Almost cruelly you pass life out in solid, withering increments.

Never enough.

I crave the lump sum,

A real and genuine life all for me and no one else!

Can you manage?

Being young, poor, stupid, and free

What is more important: education or love?

Bliss

I found my place in the world. I remember when my sister Alex and I were in high school she decided she wanted to learn about Buddhism and meditation practices often associated with Yoga. She read a short book outlining the practices and we sat out to meditate.
One of the suggestions the book had was to first imagine "your place". Pick somewhere-usually the first place that comes to mind you feel encompasses your inner peace. At the time I thought my place was the beach, for awhile it was. But as with many things you discover in childhood, that too has shifted. The second is to quiet your mind, easier said than done!
A helpful tip given was to first imagine what "your place" smelled like. Salty. Count one two...
Then imagine what your place sounded like. Windy and the Seagulls squawked in the distance. three four...
Now imagine what your place feels like. Grainy soft sand and wispy grass tickling my legs. five six...
Finally imagine what your place looks like. seven eight...Suddenly the ocean appeared in all its gory. The tufts of grass poking through the moon white sand. The muted blue salty water rumbling towards-falling short by only a few inches- only to retreat back into itself. The foam and seaweed left behind writhing in the breeze. The seagulls pecking at bubbles in search for a clam or sand flea. The clouds churning above only allowing peaks of the brilliant sunshine through. Finally little droplets of warm summer rain sprinkled my shoulders and bare feet. nine ten...and I was gone.
We would reawaken after fifteen minutes or so feeling rejuvenated-legs still crossed.
But we were never groggy because you weren't sleeping, actually- you were locating your spiritual sanctuary.
I found out my place had changed a little. I still picture the ocean but I only find it when I'm lying next to Kyle. Our legs run a line down each other and meet up by our toes. My arm is outstretched diagonally over his chest and my palm is tucked under his shoulder--like we are dancing lying down. His arm reaches over my back gently. Finally, and most importantly- my head is on his chest and my ear is right above his heart. I listen to it beat as he drifts in and out of consciousness. I study his freckled face and his long black eye lashes and wonder how I could ever love someone so much. And then I'm gone.

My Little Monster Sister: Brooke May

"I’m just an immature little kid. 
I’m a 5 year old trapped in a 14-year-old girls body. 
I still drink chocolate milk with a straw and get yelled at for making bubbles. 
I sing when I walk down the street. 
I’m always the first one to run out to the ice cream man in the summer time. 
I still pee with the door open and dance to the sound of the shower. 
My favorite holiday is Christmas & I stay up extra late to see if I can catch a glimpse of Santa.
I sleep with my blankie at night when i can find it.
When it rains I run outside in the mud.
Electricity plugs still fascinate me.
I still run around the house with underwear on my head.
Socks and flip-flops are still a major "fashion yes"!
Skimpy shorts and tank tops don’t interest me, I’d rather be wearing my sponge-bob square pants t-shirt.
Growing up is for nerds. ♥"


-I want to remember this forever-

Dress Code...

I start my new job at Starbucks Coffee tomorrow! I have never worked as a barista and I am kind of nervous about learning the equipment and dealing with high stress situations- which I haven't really encountered anything like a drive-through in a long time in my job history. In fact when I worked at Taco Bell for a month I SUCKED.  Props to you fast food workers, you are awesome. Memorizing weird abbreviations for foods and making them in under two minutes. Bravo! Listening to some snatch cuss you out over a two dollar quesadilla mishap without losing your cool? Congrats! But I did not cut the mustard.

But I'm really not that nervous about anything as much as the dress code!

1.) I hate collared shirts. I think they look too masculine on me and coupled with my beak of a nose I look like a "butch lesbian"...at least what I imagine that stereotype to look like. No offence to "manly" lesbians. Go Love! But not my style AT ALL. I can't pull one off- I asked and they do permit turtle necks...too bad not a single store I've been to thus far sells a turtle neck for under fifty bucks that isn't awful/my size. 

2.) Khaki pants...when I think of khaki pants I think of a 40 yr old male going on vacation to Hawaii, or at least dressing like he is. Usually accompanied by a flower/surfing/post cards printed COLLARED shirt.That or a golfing man. Both examples of men. Ugh. I have seen a few gals pulling off khaki pants but NOT ME. I feel like I look bloated and they are too close/ too far from skin color- it's an odd color. EW!

3.) Black pants. I'm partially ok with that. I really don't understand why hardly any workplaces allow blue jeans anymore. The baby boomers are in retirement-NO ONE CARES. Plus, EVERYONE looks better in blue jeans. They don't even specify a type-it can be skinny or whatever so I know it's not about offending anyone. They just don't want blue jeans because of a ridiculous notion set decades ago. Maybe I should wear high heels while I vacuum too!

4.)Brown OR Black close-toed shoes. Excuse me when did brown get thrown in? So now I am left with man shirt, black pants and black shoes. :C Funeral much?

5.) NO Tattoos. Hmm. So now I have to put a band-aid on my hand. IT'S A PEACE SIGN FOR GOD'S SAKE!!! Who does that offend and do we really want to give that Nazi coffee anyhow? NO. 

6.) Hair pulled into a pony tail. Ok...my hair is in that awkward stage right now where it's too long to leave down-too short to pull up high enough to look good. UGLY. So now little hairs will be slipping out of my pony tail all day making me look like a dork.

7.)Green apron. LOVE IT! Something to hide behind. 

WISH ME LUCK I NEED IT!

Ew! Ew! EW! GeT iT oFf!!!

If you've had the pleasure of reading my blogs for awhile-which let's be honest, this blog isn't popular enough to have many followers. For example, my mother (also known as "your biggest fan" and "delusional woman with four year olds the size of twenty year olds"), doesn't read my blog. BUT if you have you know Molly, my elderly cat, has accidents around my apartment from time to time.
Every once in awhile, like a minute ago, I will be on the go doing some house hold task like picking up dirty dishes from the living room or other various areas that Kyle and I end up studying and bringing them to the sink where they can be further neglected for another week- When suddenly I will step on something unusually squishy.
At this point my body freezes and my mind screams, "Ew, Ew, EW! GeT iT oFf!!!" Automatically assuming of course that I have a giant pile of poo on my foot. Thankfully this usually turns out to be a bundled up sock that escaped the laundry bin; other times it turns out to be the edge of a slipper or a plushy toy mouse.
But sometimes...like now, it's a genuine turd.