Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Teen Angst Tuesday

Today's poem is called "Love After Love" by Derek Walcott. I first read this poem when I started reading "The Time Traveler's Wife" It's at the very beginning of the book. I don't know much about this poem or the author, and by "much" I mean, nothing. I do know that when I read it I absolutely knew that I would LOVE the book. Any author who starts her books out with an A-MAZING poem is okay in my book. Enjoy, lovelies.

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Teen Angst Tuesday

Howdy folks. So, yes, I'm aware that this isn't actually Tuesday but it can't be helped. Fact of the matter is, you probably never would have noticed that I posted this on Monday if I hadn't pointed it out, but I'm nothing if not honest. That's probably why so many consider me angelic in quality. I do actually have a reason for going all wonky on you though. Tomorrow Pete and I are going to give up TV and the Internet for a week so posting this on the actual day of Tuesday is OUT. Should be exciting...that is if I don't die from withdrawals. Actually, it probably won't be exciting at all. We'll sit around doing things like reading, playing games, and you know, interacting with each other. Crazy, right? So! Onwards with angsty poems! This poem is actually one of mine. I wrote it a couple of nights ago. Explanation to follow.

What I Would Ask

Can I ask, are you happy?
Is today a good day to die?
When people ask, "How are you?"
Are you truthful? Do you lie?

Do your eyes shine brightly?
When you smile, do you glow?
Do you laugh out loud?
When they say, "Cheese" do your teeth show?

How are you doing?
When you sleep, are you dreaming?
Are you there? Alive?
Or are you only being?

Do you miss me?
Have you kept me at all?
Am I gone for good?
Like the wind this past fall?

Are you like me?
Never the same, but still good?
Would you please leave me?
Please, I truly wish you would.

Okay, so I feel like I have to say some things about this poem and my mindset when it was written. First off, I'm madly in love with my Pete bee. He's the cheese to my macaroni as Juno would say. The stars to my moon. The heart attack to my cheeseburger. The flower to my bumblebee. The Hitchcock to my Grace Kelly. The...okay, I'm done with the really BAD analogies. The point is, I love that boy. Madly. Do we have our problems? Sure. Doesn't everybody? But we slog through and overcome and truthfully, it makes for an incredibly satisfying marriage. But haven't we all felt this way at some time or another? When a lover leaves? When a friend decides it isn't worth it anymore? Or maybe you, yourself decide it isn't worth it? Maybe somebody has even died...I wrote this because I think a lot of people can relate, and a lot of people have probably sat around thinking these very questions. They've sat around wondering how people who used to be their best friends, or lovers, or enter the blank are doing. But more importantly, I think that so many people can relate when it comes to not being able to let somebody go. They can relate to holding on so tightly to something that isn't even there anymore. To loving somebody who has long since left. This is for you, you eternal romantic, you.


"If I may so express it, I was steeped in Dora. I was not merely over head and ears in love with her, but I was saturated through and through. Enough love might have been wrung out of me, metaphorically speaking, to drown anybody in; and yet there would have remained enough within me, and all over me, to pervade my entire existence." -Charles Dickens

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Busy Bookworm Challenge 2010!

So, I've decided to participate in The Busy Bookworm Challenge. What you do is pick 12-24 books that you can't fathom passing up and reading them throughout the year. 1-2 books a month. Since I love reading, and read at least 2 books a month anyway I thought it would be fun to participate and see how far I got. My own personal goal would be to surpass the twenty four books and read even more. Also, I get a cute little button to put up on my blog. Please direct your eyes to the left and you shall see it in all of it's gloriousness! So, without further ado; my list!

1. The Stand by Stephen King

2. Angels and Demons By Dan Brown

3. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

4. Oliver Twist By Charles Dickens

5. The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Alan(LOVE this author, if you haven't read Garden Spells you must. Now.)

6. The Girl Who Chased the Moon by Sarah Addison Alan

7. Moby Dick by Herman Melville

8. The Odyssey by Homer

9. Under The Dome by Stephen King

10. A Simple Path by Mother Theresa(although, I'm not sure this counts because I started it at the end of December. Oh well. I'm a cheater. Meh)

11. Love Letters of Great Men

12 Peter Duck by Arthur Ransom

13. Neverwhere by Neil Gaimon

14. Coraline by Neil Gaimon

15. Blue Like Jazz-Don Miller

16. The Help- Kathryn Stockett

17. Me Talk Pretty One Day- David Sedaris

Uh, so yeah. Turns out picking twenty four MUST read books is harder than it seems. I'll get through these and then I'll pick another twelve.

Consider partaking in the challenge yourself because let's face it, reading is so much cooler than TV!

Okay...so I don't know how obvious this is but I've been going back and adding books. Some I've found on my own, and a couple were recommended to me(thanks, Jessie!) So. I'll probably slowly add them and that is why the end of this post doesn't make any sense. Alrighty, then . Carry on.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

A Season Of Blessing

I think one of the questions you have to ask yourself when you start a blog is how much information you want to share with the world. Do you want to give away all of the gory details? Keep a little for yourself but share enough? Share nothing, just speak, so to speak? I myself prefer honest blogs. I like to read about people's misbehaving kids, annoying husband antics, and nightmarish mother-in-laws. I like it, because it's REAL. I like it because the reason I read blogs is to peek into somebody elses life; to be able to connect with other human beings if only for a couple of minutes. Let's be honest, writing about your "perfect" children, "perfect" husband, and/or "perfect" life is a wasted effort because people not only see through it but probably resent it, if only just a teeny tinsy bit. Not to mention it just doesn't make for good writing. '

With that being said, I gotta say; my life so perfect right now I could scream. Seriously. I don't even feel bad about writing that because if you've been reading this blog for any period of time you know that my life is FAR from perfect. I'm just in such a season of blessing that I feel like singing it from the rooftops. For the sake of every ones innocent ears, I'll just tell it here. 2010 is going to be a rocking year, lovelies. It's going to rock my socks harder than my socks have EVER been rocked.

Today we had the final walk through on our house. Monday we will sign the loan documents and we should receive our keys on Thursday. I'll let you in on a little secret; we've been trying to buy a house for TWO years. TWO YEARS! Two years of slogging through house, after house, after house. Two years of rejected offer after rejected offer. Two years of countless realtors ditching us because we're too "picky." I can't tell you how excited I am to finally see the day when we officially become home-owners. Bliss. Heaven. Extreme satisfaction.

May 2010 bless you as richly as I know we will be blessed. I just ask that you excuse this sickeningly optimistic blog. I literally cannot help but spread the joy, peeps.