a conversation between jacob and a friend this morning:

"what are you doing?"
"i'm washing my hair!"
"why?!"
"because there is a girl here!"

don't they know they are in 6th grade?

okay public transportation day, except for the creepy ticket check cops. i accidentally keep sitting next to the same man every afternoon when i get on. his stop is right before mine, and he always says thank you when i let him out.


i want to start making art again. also, i think it is odd that in midvale things are named "speed humps", rather than "speed bumps". maybe that is just the generic version of the sign, so it's cheaper.

Those days look like they were real blissful.

the sun don't set on the mystery zone.

I spent two of my weekend nights watching the Olympics with my Norwegian brother Kim, which is actually pretty odd, since I have never watched the Olympics with a guy that wanted someone besides the USA to win. Sometimes I forget that he lives in America all of the time, and I think instead that my parents only have him for the weekends. On Sunday nights he flies back to Norway in first class. They give him beer because that's legal for Norwegians, and he arrives home simply to sleep in a bed that's not mine. Except sometimes he tells me about his American english homework, and I believe him because it sounds like what i do now. So we had a pretty nice weekend, Kim and I, driving all around Provo and Orem and feeding the dog wasabi while Austin worked.

Today I added seven pages to my workshop piece though. And sat in a hot tub listening to Brit Daniels sing all my problems away. I think I am going to go see him in April. Maybe I can even ask him the right way to mic drums since his always sound just so gorgeous. He probably won't mind that my hair still smells like chlorine. Cause it does, because I don't love washing it anymore.

There is a hole on the inside of my mouth, and it is maybe there because of all of the candy I have been eating. There is no one to stop me from eating it all of the time, so now I will just get diabetes. Also it could be there because I am anxious about things lately. But things like that come in waves, I guess.

One time I was walking down a cold road with C and P (yup, I love Gossip Girl), and they were smoking pipes. JW (andyoudon'tmesswithhimcausehe'sapastor) was walking up the hill towards us, and they started freaking out, even though it was totally legal. So, naturally, P stuck the burning thing INTO HIS POCKET, and C held his at his side, smoke rising up from somewhere near where his appendix would be, I suppose. It was like Christians are never allowed to smoke. J probably thought we were crazy, because of smoke being all around us anyways.

But thinking about it, randomly, in the middle of work, I always laugh out loud. And the old, Russian ladies with painted on eyebrows and fur coats love me all the more for it.

"It is a two-way traffic, the language of the unsaid."
-Anne Carson.

Sometimes you are stressed out. So sometimes you sit in your car on break and eat Peeps and think. And probably you will listen to Bon Iver, too, and watch the rain fall on your windshield. Just sayin'--it might happen to you one day. In case you were nervous about it, it isn't really so bad.

Wednesdays off. Praise Jesus. Tonight I finally watched Bear vs. Shark, mainly because Jemaine Clement was in it, and I love their accents. I enjoyed it, even though it was nothing that I expected it to be. What a strange little love story. I guess it was cute in its own way though. Today I went to the Whitmore library and purged their movie collection; for the next week I will probably sit at home and watch all of the great things I found, but I am looking forward to it. I guess sometimes being stressed out leads to catching up on things you've wanted to do, Bible passages you've wanted to study, shows you've wanted to watch, books you've wanted to read, foods you've wanted to make. Those things keep you from feeling so overwhelmed in the midst of all things.

Also, today I saw a man, for the first time, get up out of his seat on Trax so that a woman could sit down. I guess Trax people can have manners too, even if just being on the thing makes me want to have no manners at all.

one time i hit my knee really hard on the corner of a desk, and then i actually hoped i couldn't walk for a day just so i didn't have to go to school. that failed though, so tomorrow when the alarm goes off i'll get up and make some coffee. maybe i will even wash my hair, but probably not because at least one class is already canceled.

i am feeling good about things.

a few days ago one of the high school boys that i work with, simon, looked down at my feet and said, "umm, your shoes are missing laces," as if i should clearly know better. i said something back about how all of my clothes were falling apart, i think, or something silly like that. that simon. he should know by now that i am always working on small amounts of coherency, or at least that i am living a headache. if we had been friends in high school, simon would have been my voice of reason. he probably would have told me to go to class instead of eating italian food. he would have told me to stop cheating on my math tests. too bad i didn't have a simon. so we know each other from two to ten on sundays now, instead. one day a lady came in and gave both of us guardian angel pins to put on our shirts; he still wears his each time i see him, and twirls it round and round, making me dizzy.

but besides working. i have been listening to the strokes again, just like back in middle school when we would stay up for hours calling them in to the radio station. one of those nights someone said the 'shit' word at us, and we couldn't stop giggling. those were the bravery days. now, julian casablancas' voice is almost a form of therapy. therapy for a burnt out student. for an oddly aching heart.

i think i want to catch up on t.v. shows i have been missing again, like 30 rock. tina fey is another form of therapy in that she is such a smart and funny woman. liz lemon reminds me of the person i will be in 15 years, or at least some small part of an alter-ego living in me.

jackwhiteguitarriffs. not knowing all of the answers. brit daniels' cigarette voice. delirious laughing. a creative writing professor that loves your stories and wears cute clothes. making guacamole. strawberry cream cheese on bagels. secondhand smoke on campus. songs with soul in them. surrealist schomburg poems. these all equate to a happiness bubbling up inside of a sadness. things are always feeling better. Jesus knows my heart and is good to me.

today a man came into the store, told me a story that was odd and heartbreaking and then humorous, then admitted it was all a lie. how clever.

"mentally, she's not even alive."
-isaiah hale, describing someone he considered immature.

My favorite moment of today was when my 17 year old Norwegian brother, Kim, realized we were in Sugarhouse and stuck his head out the window to yell at the city. I asked him why he was so excited, and he said,
"Because we are in SUGARHOUSE! I have never been to here before."

And that almost leaves me wishing I was a foreigner to experience that same joy.

today in the middle of a lecture i awkwardly remembered that i needed to balance my checkbook. so, naturally, i pulled out the register and started crunching numbers, while the blonde girl next to me stared like she'd never even seen something like that happen in her life. she probably never had to think about her money and how it was all going to gasoline and burritos and other more important things. i'd be jealous of her except what is she going to do when she lives away from home? hmm.

my eyes don't want to see anymore. my legs want to run (and also to wear shorts). is it ever going to be that time when this semester is over and i can breathe again? this time last year i was probably at the same point with school, except there were never any windows involved. at least now i can look at the sun and always be happy about it. daydream about the day it is warm and we go on at least 5 vacations to nowhere or everywhere. ride bikes for 12 miles looking for a lake that never shows up. sit in the grass and just smile a lot. i have dreams of that, usually.