me. on a dark country road.

Those who know me know that I am navigationally challenged. It is of course, no fault of my own. I am the helpless victim of poor navigational genetics. Anyway, I had a babysitting job last night that ended up being in The Middle Of Nowhere. I mean, back country road USA. I have nothing against the country. I love it, actually. But take away my street signs, stop lights and neon navigational-direction-pointers and I get a bit anxious. I guess if I ever want to realize my dream of living in the mountains yet within 10 miles of a thriving city, I'll have to get over that.

So, I'm driving on ye old dirt road and notice that 1. Most of these houses are over 300 feet back from the road, behind lots of trees. 2. The only way you can see an address number is by having miraculous superspeed night vision that enables you to glimpse miniscule address numbers on the side of black mailboxes in the pitch black at 45 miles per hour. Of course, for the first part of this driving adventure, I have a pickup truck tailing me and forcing me to go 45 mph, therefore preventing me from seeing what addresses I am passing because I lack previously mentioned superspeed night vision. Then the truck turns off the road and I can slow down. But I realize as I travel for a much longer time expected down the road and reach an "intersection" that I've missed the house. With a cool head, I turn around and drive back at 25 mph, stopping at every mailbox to read the number. Note: With a cool head. (No panic!) And then I find the house. Finally. Aren't you proud of me?

Salmon Soda

I know that Americans are oftly fond of the unique. Especially when it's one-of-a-kind . . . and we own it. We have learned quite well how to make sure it gets noticed, either by a flashing hand or a subtle/not-so-subtle hint within conversation. I know this. But I really wonder why in the heck someone on this planet has enough time, enough inclination, and enough money to concept and actually create salmon-flavored soda. Can one even claim its appeal lies in novelty? Is it even possible?! I think not. Such a declaration would imply that any appeal, of any sort whatsoever, lay within it.

Really, I like fish. I do. In fact, salmon is my favorite fish Of All Time. I'm a little unhappy though, about the fact that at least for the next week I associate it with a completely unpleasant and vile drink. It's orange-pink. It tastes like salmon (really, that's all I need to say), and it slides down your throat in liquid form. Gah . . . gross eew eew eew *twitching and all sorts of uncomfortable motions.* Is it too much to ask that we keep fish in it's natural form and not apply its flavor to soda?

And thus, as I ponder the ever-horrifying concept of salmon-flavored soda, I find the urge to pen this:

REAL MEN OF GENIUS *Real Men of Genius!*

We salute you Mr. Salmon-Flavored-Soda-Creator-Man. *Mr. Salmon-Flavored-Soda-Creator-Man!* You took a step out of the box - waaay out side of the box, when you combined our favorite pink fish with a carbonated beverage. *TRUE harmony of nature and taste!* Regular, Diet, . . . who cares? As long it's in a cool bottle, that's all that really matters *SO pretty and pink!* We take comfort in the fact that somewhere, somehow, there is a way to eat salmon without using a fork or a knife .*CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!* As we throw up in the nearest trash can, we salute you Mr. Salmon-Flavored-Soda-Creator-Man . . . because nothing says "satisfying" like a fishy aftertaste. *Mr. Salmon-Flavored-Soda-Creator-Man!"

the wounded bookshop

So tonight I made my first venture into the world of open mic poetry. After much persuasion from my fellow writer and poet friend Chelsea, I agreed to attend the open mike poetry night at The Wounded Bookshop downtown and read some of my poetry. I LOVE The Wounded Bookshop - the atmosphere, the building - it's a used bookshop in an old, old building that used to be a machine shop - now it's filled with mismatched sofas, artwork, dones of aged wooden bookshelves with old books, coffee, tea, wine, creaking staircases, fabulous rugs . . .

I loved listening to other people's works and meeting so many interesting characters: the elderly woman who published a book of poetry years ago, who still writes . . . the young man who's traveled the United States and just recently arrived in Fredericksburg to start a non-profit environmentalist action group - he also used to teach to gang members , one of his favorite students was shot in the forehead . . . the 15-year-old girl with long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, black-rimmed glasses who declared that she normally writes fiction but what the heck, she gave poetry a try (incidentally she is an extremely talented writer across the board) . . . Chelsea my comrade English major and writer (with all of the OCD characteristics that I posses) - she's a great writer as well . . . the middle-aged man with curly blond-gray hair and glasses, who wrote a poem about Isaac Newtown (and said that if anybody wanted to know why he wrote about Isaac Newton, he would tell him "offline") . . . the young man with a pale yellow buttoned up shirt and black-rimmed glasses, who disliked the government and organized religion, who hestitated reading a poem he had written about sex . . .

I read three of my poems - first time ever reading them in public. It was amazing. I think I'm hooked.

hi & and my car

Hey everyone. I'm slammed with massive amounts of stuff, but I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm alive. Oh and my car is in the shop. Needs a new compressor. I wonder if all of these auto mechanics live in mansions. They can probably afford it if they get to see any of the money they charge us. But anyway, the auto place that my car is at - the guys there are really nice, I went to them on recommendation of a dear friend of mine. When I drove my car up the first thing the guy said was "That doesn't sound good." Very hopeful start, no? But would have to agree - my poor car sounded like it had a 50-year smoking habit. Emphezyma for cars. Hopefully I'll get to pick it up tomorrow. I miss my "land yacht." (Thank you Bryan for that lovely moniker - it has become near and dear to my heart).

oh boy

So last night I almost got broad-sided on the driver's side of my car by a van. Seriously, by God's grace and a few feet, as well as good brakes, I missed being in a serious accident. It was night time, I was driving in unfamiliar Springfield, frustrated because I couldn't find the church where my brother was singing, and I was lost. I decided to turn back around and head the other way down the the road, so I pulled off into a neighborhood to turn around. In order to get back on the road I had to turn left and cross 4 lanes of traffic, two going either direction. I inched out and misjudged the speed of the car heading towards me. About half-way across the first two lanes I realized "Oh shit I do NOT have enough time to get across the road." I had a brief second of mind-blowing panic but managed to slam on the brakes just in time for the car to swerve around me. I don't think I breathed for at least 10 seconds and then I started crying, I guess because I was scared - I realized what could have happened to me. Man. It was really frightening. I thanked God and my guardian angels profusely on my way home. And I will now be an old lady driver forever.

career and self-esteem update

I have recently had some career boosts that have served to raise my self-esteem, however temporary it may be. :)

First of all, I came into work today (the advertising company I write for - just in case you infrequent readers have forgotten) to find out from my boss that the concept and tagline that I had come up with to pitch to The Virginian-Pilot (out of all the concepts the free-lancers they brought in came up with for the project) is going to be one of the two concepts presented to the Pilot executives! Mine!! The company is actually going to present MY idea to a big-league newspaper for their new advertising campaign. Potentially, if the Pilot executives decide to go with my idea, all of you people in the Hampton Roads area could be witness to a new advertising campaign from the brain of your friend Kelly. I'm grinning from ear to ear here. The CEO of my company came up to me and told me what a great job I had done on the work for this pitch. Now talk about a self-esteem boost. I spent most of this afternoon fleshing out the concept and there is a chance that I might be able to go down with the company to help pitch, or observe the pitch of the two ideas. The other concept they are presenting is a strong one as well, but if my concept doesn't make it past the presentation, I'm still going to be extremely happy with how far it got. :) (Yay!!) (!!!) I'd love to stay and work for this company after graduation - we'll see what happens.

Yesterday, I also got a call from The Motley Fool, an organization that writes about finances and informs the common citizen about how to manage their finances in a humorous way. They have a popular radio show with NPR and an in-depth website and book series. I applied for an editor position with them (mostly copyediting) on Tuesday and the next day they called me back. While the lady I talked to thinks that I'm a little light on experience (although, in my opinion, most college students are) they are interested enough in me to have me take an editing test on Monday, which they are going to fax over here to good old career services. I have to take the test in a certain period of time and then fax it back. Who knows what will happen with this, but it was encouraging to finally hear back from someone even if I don't do well enough for them on the test.

Yay happiness. :)

a new friend Bradley

I made a new friend at church on Saturday, his name is Bradley and I'd say he's about 8 years old, maybe 9. He's the cutest little boy, with dark hair and big brown eyes. I got to the service early to help set up and Bradley came up to me and Pattie, my church sponsor, eager to help do anything. We took to each other really quickly. Now each Saturday church service has a metaphor, and this past Saturday's was supposed to be the "brick wall tumbling down" because Jesus was resurrected. They had had a brick wall made of tissue boxes set up during the Lenten season. None of us could find the bricks and since no service would be complete without a metaphor, Bradley asked me to go on an adventure with him around the church to find them.

As we walked out the sanctuary he confided in me that he was happy I was coming with him because he was scared of the dark. He told me quite matter of factly that although he hadn't seen a lot of scary movies he'd heard about them and they were scary, especially Freddie and Chuckie. I told thim that normally when people stick together in those movies they are fine so we'd be fine - you know, we were comrades, nothing would happen. So we explored all over the church, in the dark places . . . opened scary doors, climbed over things (well he did) and we still could not find our metaphor.

We got back to the sanctuary right as the service started and we got separated. He went to sit with his dad and I sat with Pattie. We both passed out crosses during Communion - Pattie helped him and I helped his older brother. Anyway, the service was great and right when it was over I bent over to grab something and he was there in front of me and he gave me this huge hug and was all mournful and said "are you going to be here next Saturday because I'm going to be here next Saturday" and I was so sad because I wasn't going to be there this upcoming Saturday - friends are coming down and I am going to my brother's concert in Springfield that night - but for a few moments there I wanted to say "screw it" to all of that (no offense to said friends and brother) just so that I wouldn't have to disappoint this little guy. I told him that I'd definitely be back the Saturday after this one and he was like "well I don't know if I'll be here because I might be with my mommy that weekend" and I promised him profusely that he would see me soon, as I would be coming for the next month. Although when I thought that ,I felt a pang because I'm graduating soon. Man - I'd stay in Fredericksburg just for FUMC and the people there. I'm going to miss it so much.

Anyway, he wanted me to stay after the service later so I did, and we did a little bit more exploring but finally I gave him a hug and he was like "You know did you come here before?" and I was like "Yep, I've been coming to this service all year, I've seen you but we've never gotten a chance to talk" and he was like "wow yeah and we talked to today and now we are friends." And I said, "Yes, we are."

the motorcycle diaries

I just thought I'd recommend a FABULOUS movie. A friend bought it for me and I highly, highly, recommend you watch it - "The Motorcycle Diaries." The version I saw was in Spanish with English subtitles, I don't know if you can hear it in English - perhaps I didn't explore the menu well enough. But even if you can, I think I'd still choose to watch it in Spanish, since it takes place in South America, you gain a little bit of authenticity. Anyway, check out the the movie's website : http://www.motorcyclediariesmovie.com/ if you want to see what it's about. You have to watch it. End of story.

Good Friday

I don't know if any of you have ever been to a Good Friday Tenebrae service, but I went to one tonight at Fredericksburg United Methodist church. I've been to plenty of them before, but I just wanted to write for a second about how powerful they can be, especially tonight's. I think Tenebrae is solely a Protestant thing, but I could be wrong (so correct me if I am!). Anyway, FUMC did a Tenebrae service tonight, and for those of you who don't know Good Friday, for Christians, it marks and remembers the day that Jesus died on the cross. The service started out with all of the lights on in the sanctuary, numerous candles lit, and the traditional lenten purple garments draped over the lecturns and altars. Scripture about Jesus' final hours, alternating between hymns about his death constituted most of the service. But each time a scripture was finished being read, a few candles were taken out of the sanctuary, and the purple garments were removed. A black cloth was draped over the cross and by the time we got to Jesus' death in the Scripture, the lights had progressively been dimmed to black and the candles were all taken out. When the final Scripture had been read, we were sitting in pitch black, prayerful and silent. All of a the sudden the organ crashed out a very loud, dischordant, and mournful chord, reminiscent of the moment Jesus' soul left his body and an earthquake and thunder rocked the Mount of Olives. Then the church bell rang 33 times, one ring for each year Jesus lived. I could hear other churches ringing their bells as well. The whole time the lights stayed off, and after the bells finished ringing, we left the sanctuary in silence. The service was powerful, but the act of Jesus dying for me, for us all, is the most powerful of them all.

woo hoo

I now have a date to grad ball - my way cool brother :) Yay! We are going to have so much fun, I can't wait!

Also along the procuring of myself a date for grad ball line - I had some colleagues down in the Richmond area set me up with a 25 year old architect as a potential "date" for this dance. Well he called me Monday night and I was very, very unimpressed. All he could talk about the whole time was alcohol. Did not get a good vibe. Needless to say, nothing is going to come of it. Ugh. Even though I only talked to this guy on the phone I am traumatized. I will never let myself be set up again. I will set myself up from now on. Blech.

scalding water = fun

I have a love/hate relationship with the showers here at Marshall. One thing I love is the water pressure - it's like a freakin turbo jet stream. I'm one of those people who prefers showers like waterfalls and not showers where the total water pressure is that of someone sprinkling water on you from a watering can. Those types of showers drive me to distraction. However, there is one little eccentricity of ye old Marshall Hall showers that I definitely do not enjoy - the intermittent SCALDING HOT water that comes through the faucet. It appears to be that any time someone flushes a toilet in the entire building, that one measly little toilet determines the temperature of water that comes out of the shower - and it's extremely hot water. The shower stall is very small so you don't have really anywhere to move in order to escape it, if you even get a warning. Sometimes the water will pause for a millisecond and you just know you're about to get burned so you can try and move at least some of your body out of the jet stream, but recently it hasn't even been doing that. And generally, I get my shower right after I wake up so my lightening-quick reflexes are not so lightening quick. Ooo but the most fun is when your face is under the water when the hot water comes. It's great.

Can you tell I had an encounter with multiple moments of scalding hot water this morning?

This afternoon should be fun. One of my favorite people from the Signature (the restaurant I usually hostess at when I'm home from school), Jim, is going to be up in Fredericksburg today and tomorrow so tonight we're going out to dinner and possibly catching a movie. It's become a tradition whenever he's in the area. Such a great guy that Jim. Very sweet and a great friend. If we go see a movie I have no idea what to see - nothing really good is out. I heard The Ring 2 got a horrible review. I'd be interested in seeing Robots, although I don't know if that is something Jim would be interested in. Oh well. :) We shall see. Despite my socializing adventure this evening, I still have to be productive. Lots of writing of the creative type to do.

Ooo guess what - "Finding Neverland" comes out on dvd this Tuesday. Man that was quick. Once I get some money I am so buying that. It was soooooooo good and got overlooked at the Oscars. I think it only won best score.

Oh and shout out to Manley. Was glad to see he posted a comment. :) What's up Manley?

flower pen and moral ambiguity

So I may be a horrible person, just so you know. I was walking back on campus walk from art class today when I saw in the distant future, one of the blind students on campus drop something. She was walking in the opposite direction of me and by the time I got to the spot where she had dropped whatever she had dropped (which turned out to be one of those pens with a flower attached to the end) she had already disappeared into Trinkle. Now, for a few seconds I contemplated not picking the pen up and keeping on walking, but then I was like "Kelly, that's horrible. She's blind, or practically blind, what will she do without her pen?" So, I pick it up and run back into Trinkle. I check the study rooms, the first floor classrooms, and the basement. I didn't check the second floor. Which I probably should have done. But, I couldn't find her, so I didn't know what else to do but to leave. But now I have her really nice flower pen and I'd feel bad using it, even though I didn't steal it or anything - I tried to find her (albeit I neglected the second floor). Hmmm. What should I do? Ignore the pen? Give it to someone else? Use it in conscious-less bliss? Realize that I'm being really stupid and silly over nothing? Yes, it's probably the latter, I know, but I'm a strange creature.

Die Zauberflote

So today, I allowed myself to rationalize the purchase of "Die Zauberflote" or "The Magic Flute" (for all you non-German speakers). It's an opera by Mozart. I have long coveted the music from this opera, as I particularily associate it with fond childhood memories and amazing musical genius. You should read the synopsis of it online, it's a crazy spectacle fairy-type tale that ends happily ever after. I have to admit, the Queen of the Night is my favorite character and her insanely intense solo I have memorized in the English form, since the copy I listened to over and over again as a child was in English and not the original German. I have the solo on my computer and it's really weird because when I listen to it, I hear it in the English even though I'm listening in the German. Anyway, the point of this story my fellow readers is that although I really don't have money to throw away left and right, I have once again succumbed. But it's an investment, no?

I'd also like to take this time to share with you all that my art professor is the newest member of the "wow kelly thomson is a detailed perfectionist" club - a club which boasts the membership of numerous professors, family, and friends of mine. Right now we are working on creating a 9 foot by 13 foot mural re-creation of a famous painting. He's gridded off the painting into numerous squares and then assigned each of us certain squares to re-create. Of course, when I'm drawing my squares I spend forever drawing every minute detail even though most likely a lot of the detail will be lost once I start to paint it. My professor just laughs when he walks by me hunched over my artwork, pencil in hand and makes offhanded comments about how I sure really like to draw detailed. He then smiles as I say "yeah yeah, I know . . ." and willfully acknowledge my anal-retentive qualities. It helps of course, that the other three people in my row are as perfectionist as I am- a fact that my art professor has also graciously acknowledged. Well, I suppose we all belong together :)

me and my dance class from last semester, about to shake our booties toxic style. i miss dance! 

random insomnia

So, I woke up this morning around 3:30/4 am by the sound of my suitemate coughing her head off in the bathroom. So I get up, realize that I have to use the restroom anyway, and go and check on her. By the time I get back I am wide awake. Really wide awake. And starving. Which is not good because I have to get up at 7 to get ready to help with registration for Showcase. I lie in bed for like 30 min. Can't sleep. So, I do something that I haven't done in years. I turn on the light next to my bed, grab an apple to eat, and read Kitchen Confidential for about an hour. By that time, I'm just tired enough to phase back into a little bit of sleep for about an hour/hour and half. "So what?" you ask. Well, I just found it weird because I normally sleep very well through the night. Even on the rare occurences when I have to get up in the middle of the night. Now I'm tired. I hope traffickers for Showcase don't have to be friendly. The rest of my day involves brunch, schoolwork/painting/cleaning/etc., hair cut, church, then back to work. Come on Kel you can do it. Oh, I need to return some library books, too.

Ruth Ozeki

Ruth Ozeki, author of "My Year of Meats" and "All Over Creation" talked at Mary Washington. I looove "My Year of Meats," it's one of my favorite books ever and Ruth Ozeki was fabulous, friendly, and personable. She signed my book (yay!) and when I told her that I was an aspiring writer, she said to me with a smile "call me when you get published" and she gave me some advice on writing. *sigh* such an inspiration.

Woody, Sky, Greta, and goats

Hello hello. I'm back from Richmond and immediately overwhelmed with piles of work as usual. I'd give you the whole extensive account from my Richmond trip but for the sake of time and not writing a ten million paragraph entry, I'm just going to tell you about my favorite day of spring break, which coincidentally occured in Richmond and just happened to be yesterday.

Yesterday I went to the Horse & Kitty Plantation (my friend Angie's farm) for a dinner party with a bunch of very cool adults with witty monikers and some mutual friends (my uncle and grandmother included). The decided theme of our meal was "pot roast" and we each had to bring a particular dish. My grandmother and I were in charge of the salad (which we whipped up with our magical culinary skills the night before). Anyway, there were various amazing and asundry things that were supposed to go down at this party - 1. Socializing (of course) 2. Wine drinking 3. Meeting about progress of novel Angie and I are writing, 4. For me to ride some of her horses. Well, the first three came true. The weather was absolutely horrible- snowing and wet and muddy. My grandmother and I followed my uncle out to the farm (it is way on the back roads of Powhatan) and brought my grandmother's dog Little Bit with us, who is quite a handful.

Once we got there, Angie let us go into the gated horse yard to meet her Arabian stallion Woody and her other horse, whose name I can't remember. I got to pet horses (fun) but because of the horrible weather I didn't get to ride any of them, which I was looking forward to because I have never ridden a horse before. After that we walked down the dirt road to her neighbor's house and got to see her two horses Greta and Sky as well as her two goats and numerous chickens. I had to hold Little Bit on the walk because she was shivering and acting very pathetic in the cold. But hey, I was frozen solid so I empathized. I had never been in such close proximity with goats before, and I got to feed them some peppermint goat treats while I got my shoes all nice and muddy. I learned to keep a very careful eye out for barnyard poo as well. Although it was so muddy I probably wouldn't have known if I had stepped in anything. All I needed though was a nice Stetson hat like Angie had to be a true rough and tough horsewoman.

The horses were a bit skiddish, well Sky was at least and poor Little Bit was scared of getting trampled by hooves. After trekking back from that farm we went into Angie's main farmhouse (which belongs to her sister and brother-in-law) and they built a really nice hot fire and I had a glass of wine. Then all the other dinner party guests started to show up. I only stuck to one glass of wine although most everyone else definitely had more than one. I'm not a huge fan of wine in general, although I do really like California Bogle white wine and some Spamante (sp?) that Kevin bought once. Anyway, we all made intellectual and entertaining conversation while sipping our wine before the fireplace in the beautifully decorated farm house. Then we ate dinner, which was really good. My uncle was in charge of dessert and brought this absolutely amazing Boston creme pie and french apple pie. I decided to op for the Boston creme pie, which was to die for.

After dinner we talked, drank ,and retired to Angie's apartment over the garage where the socializing continued. Keep in mind I am the youngest of all of these fabulous people by pretty much 20 years, but oddly enough, there wasn't any awkwardness at all. After talking a bit more, Angie, my uncle, and I got to business on the novel writing project. Around 11 my uncle and I left. It was so much fun. I made some new friends and contacts and actually got to go to the countryside and be with the horses, ten million cats, and see the stars at night - I miss being able to see the stars in the city!

Well, that was my farm/dinner party extravaganza - my absolute favorite day over spring break. I can't wait to get back there. I pray desperately that I find a job in the Richmond area so I can go over there more frequently! Sorry this entry is so poorly written. I'm in a hurry. :)

luke & lorelai

I thought you might like to start off this evening with a little good news. A little fabulous news that is - on tonight's episode of Gilmore Girls, finally . . . after much twists of fate and obstacles upon a beaten path, Luke and Lorelai are back together again. I know, I know, I was a bit antsy for a while there, too. I mean, they had just finally gotten together after years and years of being in love with each other and some sort of conflict was bound to come up . . . but still, if the writers don't marry those two together I will have a fit of the royal kind. And believe me, THEY (being the writers/producers of Gilmore Girls) will take notice, my friends. I want to be just like the character of Lorelai when I'm her age - witty, quirky, eccentric, fast-talking, attractive, in shape, loved by all - with a Luke.

Well, today's outlook on life has been a bit brighter than it has been in the past. I'm really trying to adopt a "really Kelly, you are so incredibly blessed and have it so incredibly well off compared to millions of people in the word" type of an attitude. I went to the optomotrist today and good news - my vision is stable. Hasn't gotten any worse, which is very good. I also got new glasses today. Valentino frames and the thinnest type of lense they can make with my monsterously bad prescription - so - about as sexy as I will ever get my glasses to be. Am considering laser surgery in the future - but that is way in the future when I have a job and money. I've told my uncle that if I don't have a job when I graduate that I'd tatoo the name of the new design company he's starting on my forehead for a good price.

Hmmm. I could ramble on but methinks I should stop here. Hah. Yes, I just typed "methinks." Still want to be my friend?

A few prayers requests for those so inclined: 1. Please pray that CRT calls me for an interview. 2. Please pray for my brother's monsterous Roman Civilization exam this Thursday. He's worried about it but has been studying like a fiend!

Oh and one more thing - I will try to post tomorrow, but I can't promise. Then after tomorrow I'm going to be in Richmond for the rest of the week and devoid of the ability to post since my grandmother doesn't own a computer and I can only check my e-mail while I'm at the internship. So try to survive until then. Or e-mail me. Ciao. :)

"chronic" is never a good word

Ok. I give up. This entry has been erased twice by this stupid home computer of my parents. I can't write it again or I will go insane. Suffice it to say that I went to an opthamologist at home this morning and found out that my eye problems are due to a combination of roseacea (in/around the eyes) and blepharitis. The roseacea is treatable, the blepharitis I will have for the rest of my life. Three cheers for life-long eye diseases. I can wear my contacts but no eye make-up for at least a month, longer if I have problems. I am on new eye medication number 10 million for an indefinite period of time, amongst various other treatments. I like this new opthamologist, despite his not-so-good news. He was friendly, as was his medical aide who told me all about how she was pregnant and how she had once had cat stratch disease. Tomorow I go to the optometrist to have my vision checked (pray that it's not any worse) and hopefully get new, thinner, sexier glasses. I hear technology has improved since the last time I got glasses, many years ago. But anyway, help me to keep things in prospective. I am really quite lucky if all I have to worry about health-wise is eye problems.

Beltway

I'd like to make a list about yesterday and today.
1. I hate driving in the DC metro area. I hate the Beltway. I hate I-95 N. I hate rush hour. But on the good side, if it is one, I am learning to become a more aggressive driver.
2. I drove 2 hours yesterday to a job interview where in fact, he had already decided that I wasn't being considered for the position (which he didn't bother to tell me) but for an unpaid internship. And I drove all the way there for that. Was extremely mad.
3. Eyes still rockin the swollenness, even on meds. Am going to get a second opinion on Monday from a doctor down in Va.Beach. Have high hopes for him.
4. Jay won Project Runway (on tv) last night. Yay! That makes me incredibly happy. I love Jay. I want to be his best friend. He's so funny and you all know I like guys who can make me laugh. :)
5. Today it's snowing and school is closed. Not that I had any classes today, but I'm not going to my internship (yet again, last Thursday it was swollen eyelids that kept me away). However, today I have to be productive like whoa. I must be an e-mail writer, room-cleaner, psych test studier, poet, paper cutter outer, earring maker, and packer.

@*#$%* #@$%!!!!!!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WOULD YOU PLEASE TELL ME WHY THE HELL MY RIGHT EYE IS SWELLING (HOWEVER MINUTELY) WHEN I AM ON 3 MASSIVELY POWERED MEDICATIONS???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO BREAK DOWN. I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!!!!!

and so i jumped

So, today I jumped off of a second-story balcony. Would you like to know why? Well, I was on my way to Seaco for brunch and I had just walked out the front door of Marshall when low and behold this Asian high-school aged guy comes up to me and asks me if the campus is open today. I was like "Do you mean the academic buildings?" and he was like, "Yeah, I'm supposed to have an audition today in Pollard I think, but all the doors are locked." He wasn't sure because his mom had answered the phone when the school had called and she barely speaks English so she didn't know whether they said Sunday or Monday. Anyway, I initially advised him to go to the campus police station and ask if he could get into the building and then I thought, no . . . I can probably get him in through the front of Dupont. It's not like the fine arts building is really easy to get around anyway, he probably just missed a door or something.

So being the nice person that I am, I told him that I'd walk with him over to Pollard and see if I could get him in (although I think we both began to have the sneaking suspicion that his audition was really for tomorrow). Well, the front of Dupont was unlocked so I was like score, I can get him in through the second-floor balcony door that is connect to Dupont, into Pollard. (Keep in mind that back in the times when I had known Pollard, as in last year, they never kept these doors locked). So we went onto the balcony and tried the door into Pollard. Locked. I was like crap, oh well. We walk back to the door leading into Dupont. It had locked behind us. We were trapped on the second floor balcony with no way to get off.

I wasn't about to be stuck up there all day/night, so I suggested that we jump off the balcony. The kid agreed. We decided not to jump off of the side with the white railing but the side inbetween the two buildings, facing the inner courtyard because there was a little ledge mid-way down that we could put our feet. Not a big ledge mind you, but a ledge nonetheless. So the Asian guy jumps off the balcony, lands on his feet but almost runs into an adjoining wall from the momentum. So I throw my coat off the side of the building so it won't hinder me and begin to place my feet on what little space I can find on the ledge. I am, of course, scared as hell because the jump is still pretty high and I just knew that I was going to break some bones (aaand I have a huge fear of falling). The Asian guy tries to give me encouragement interrupted with statements like "yeah it is scary" and finally I jumped. I pseudo-landed on my feet. My feet and my butt. But I didn't break anything. AND I JUMPED OFF A SECOND-STORY BALCONY. What the heck? Never saw that coming when I woke up this morning.

It's my brother! Isn't he a hottie ladies? *wink* 

ah, yes

There is a danger in this world for me. A danger that I constantly realize invades my life, yet I allow it to take control when I most need support. It's the danger of letting myself get caught up in the world, in the stress, in the excuses that can come so easily. I finally managed to get back to church today after a month of weekends when I was unable to attend. Man, I was starving. Soul-starving. And I felt it as soon as I entered the church and opened my mouth to sing to the Lord who had helped me get through that very same month. True, there were some very good reasons why I had been unable to come to worship, but I know just as well that there were many times when I didn' t try hard enough. I just can't explain what it's like to feel that void in your life filled with a love that is unconditional and eternal. Just to know that it's there no matter how much you screw up and no matter how much you fall, it's just incredible. In the last month I didn't forget it was there, and I read the Bible every night, but being able to walk into church again and be surrounded by such a strong support group of people was great. I'm going to have to miss church up here for the next two weekends because of spring break, but hopefully I'll be able to catch a service at home. I pray when I do have to miss that I can keep my relationship with the Lord going strong - it's so easy to get distracted.

Anyway, now that I've said that, today was a pretty decent day. Gave a tour (eh), had lunch with Bryan (nice), went to church (this you already know) and spent the in-between time working on my short story (interesting). I have also drunk a lot of hot russian spice tea. I also plan to do 300 crunches at some point tonight. Really. I used to do that many on a regular basis and I have strayed from the ab-hardening routine. Must return to it.

wish list

I've made a list of things that I want and even though I can't afford them right now, I will record them in this journal so when I do have the money, I will remember:

1. the movie Jesus (2000 ed.) on dvd
2. cd - Lucia Micarelli "Music from a Farther Room"
3. cd set (i think) "The Magic Flute" by Mozart

an $80 day

Today was 2 doctor's appointments, 3 new medications, and 1 new job interview. We'll see how this goes.

bah.

I 've gone through this whole day in a foul, anti-social, depressed mood. Not that anything has gone monsterously wrong in my life, but when I woke up things sucked and that colored my outlook on life for the whole rest of the day. I woke up this morning with a very sore throat, stuffy nose, and swollen eyelids . . . AGAIN. I thought I had cured my eyes and had been ecstatically happy about it for the past week but this morning I was thrown straight into depression again at the sight of my eyelids. I'm praying this is just a one night thing . . . I don't want to have to go back to the doctor. Again. So anyway, that put me in a thoroughly pissy, depressed, and self-sensitive mood. Went to classes. I couldn't stand to be in them. Went to lunch. Once again people made comments on what I chose to eat for lunch. I'm so freakin sick of people commenting on what I choose to eat. Leave me alone about it. For the love of God. Please. So those comments made me feel even more anti-social and I didn't particularily feel like talking to anyone for the rest of lunch. Went to art, even more pissed off and sat there painting 4 -inch squares for two hours. Went to short story conference with professor. Did a Mortar Board interview. Enjoyed dinner all by myself. Now I have to revise writing assignments and be creative, which I could feel less like doing. My eyelids are starting to feel weird again. If I wake up tomorrow morning and they are swollen I think I will cry. But then I can't, because crying makes them swell even more. Bah. Perhaps I'm being overly dramatic. I probably am. But today has just sucked.

Lucia Micarelli 

incredible performer

Second post tonight I know, but I just wanted to share how much I love Lucia Micarelli and how much I want her cd. She's the solo violinist and concert master for Josh Groban's tour. She's 20 and I saw her live when I saw Josh and she plays with such passion. Absolutely phenomenal. I've always been in love with the violin but I've never experienced such performing and talent on the violin before. Check out her website.
http://www.luciamicarelli.com/

wow . . .

GRAND NEWS for today! I got selected for Phi Beta Kappa! Woooo!
*Does dance of all dances*

I'm all eternal sunshine. I'm also all external procrastination. I don't feel like doing any work. Not that I don't have a million things to do - revise work for creative writing and write an intro about my "writing process" for my fiction portfolio, concept for my ghostwriting project, brainstorm new names for a deodorant powder for men (for internship) and read a book. Maybe I'll just end up reading my book, because it isn't something that I need to do for any class. I did however, balance my checkbook tonight. It had been a while, which wasn't smart because it's even more traumatic when I see all of that money gone at once. I used to be so good about it (balancing checkbook in increments) but now I'm not. I'm disappointed in myself. Oh well, I'll get over it. When I graduate though, I'm going to be very good with my finances - not that I'm ignorant about finances, I consider myself an informed citizen - but my dad is going to buy me one of those computer finance program things. Anyway, this is a boring topic. Let's move on.

I am so scheduled. I feel like I need a secretary. Right now, my secretary is my little black book (ooo all professional and leather-bound). It's my life. I used to be so anti-planner but now I'm not. It's just more of the organizational disease passed down to me by my mother, one step-behind my sticky note obsession. (There are probably 10 floating around my desk space as I write).

Not that you care, but tonight's Gilmore Girls was fabulous. I've had to miss the last few (I KNOW, a travesty unknown to mankind) but I finally got to watch it tonight. Very sad point: Lorelai and Luke, who had finally got together have broken up. As a writer and native watcher of this show, I can 99% gaurantee myself that this break-up won't last . . . but that extra 1% better not prove me wrong. It had better not. I will have vengeance because they are supposed to get married. Very happy point: A new romantic relationship is starting between Rory and Hot Blond Fellow Yale Classmate And Mysterious Secret Society Member Logan. This makes me happy, because I like him. Thank you writers of Gilmore Girls. Thank you. You will probably wreck their relationship soon - because we all need conflict - but for now, I am happy with what you are producing. :)

mark darcy

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and I am completely and utterly without a Mark Darcy. Forget the fact that I am single, career-oriented woman with no time to commit to a Mary Darcy, but I lack a Mark Darcy nonetheless. And that is a tragic, tragic, event. Forget also your opinions about the commercialism/lack of commercialism elements of Valentine's Day . . . or whether it should always be celebrated with roses and a box of chocolates. While I acknowledge the remarkable marketing and money-making capabilities of Valentine's Day for companies like Hallmark and Hershey's, I will always wish to spend it with someone that I care for and I will always wish for some token of appreciation from someone . . . I'm just a romantic and that will never change. Although tomorrow I know that although 1. Neither Josh Groban nor Mark Darcy will propose to me and 2. I will not run into a dark, mysterious, handsome Italian man with a love of books and art and a burning desire to be with me forever and build me a home in Italy, it would be very nice to receive a single rose from somebody . . . and they can be anonymous - that's mysterious and romantic. But alas, I most likely won't, which is probably best because career-driven women who aspire to one day have published a book and have a fabulously decorated apartment probably don't have time for such things. (my mailbox number is UMW #1799, 1701 College Ave, Fredericksburg, VA 22401).

Anyway, I had a bloody fabulous time with Kevin and Lauren this weekend up in Fairfax. Who needs a gorgeous Italian man with I have such wonderful friends who care about me? Well, ok . . . who needs a man when I have such wonderful friends who care about me? Friday night was nice and relaxing - lemon chicken (made by Kevin), movies (The Notebook and Napolean Dynomite) and wine. Saturday day was Crispix cereal, shopping with Lauren (and me fully embodying the internal struggle of willpower vs. impulse buying - I desperately wanted to buy art and fake flowers for the apartment that I do not yet possess), chinese food lunch, King Arthur movie - and Saturday night Dave and Buster's, with lots of fun people. I won an orange gorilla. Or orangotaung. I can't spell that. And this morning Kevin made us pancakes and some type of turkey sausage. Brilliant chef of the highest category of brilliance that Kevin is.

Good night all.

the glory and the triumph

I'd like to announce that today I parallel parked for the first time. And I was successful.

I know. Take a second to just think about that. Blows your mind, huh?

a gray scale kate winslet

As I write this I am listening to Josh Groban do a cover of "America" by Paul Simon. It's my new favorite song and a departure from some of his classical stuff. I love love love the classical stuff, but he could sing anything - and he does such a powerful rendition of "America." I'm repeating myself . . . you all know how I feel about this man. Expect a wedding announcement at some point - once I get him to realize that I'm amazing . . . and that I exist. :)

Man, I'm definitely working the multiple nights of sleep deprivation angle once again. And without my diet pepsi to get me through (Kevin is going well as my mentor . . . although I find it a hard habit to drop) it's been interesting. Also, my lack of sleep is making me not particularily want to expound on any aspect of my life at this moment - sorry, it's not because I don't love you. Suffice it to say, I spent a very wonderful evening in Richmond last night concepting for a ghost novel that I'm going to be writing with a few amazing people and today I finally finished my art painting - AND - get this - my art professor said that he thought it was really good. I know. Stop and take a second to make sure the earth is still turning on it's axis. I know I did. :) It's a pixeled, enlarged painting of a black & white portrait of kate winslet - all in gray scale. Oooo. I like it a lot and I think I will get it framed when I graduate and put it up wherever I end up living.

I am starting a book called Crum, about a small town named Crum in West Virginia. It looks to be very promising.

yes, tomorrow morning i will need tea

I'm stupid because I'm still up at 12:30 when I know that I'm going to have trouble getting up tomorrow morning. I have to be down at the internship 30 min. earlier than normal - and that 30 min. is just earlier enough to suck. I think I will definitely need to hit up the potent "lipton brisk." whoa there.

What I did Today (selected shorts):

1) I got to laugh at Jon while some guys squirted air into his eyeballs during psych class.
2) I forgot my art stuff at the perfect moment - right at the top of the hill - and had to run all the way down and back (awkward because there was a witness) in order to meet Jon for breakfast on time.
3) Did respectably on psych test, but must do better next time.
4) Entered a t-shirt design into the Marshall Hall t-shirt design contest. Competition is stiff - so far there is one other entry . . .
5) Confessed my conversion to apple computers and my desire to own and apple i-book to Bryan. Shout out to him btw - I didn't watch the Superbowl, either.
6) Ate a caesar salad upon which I put probably one too many croutons.
7) Sat around for hours while MB members read through applications. Horrendously misprounced someone's last name - to the humor of those around.
8) Decided that I need to go to sleep. Now.

Good night all. Tomorrow is jam-packed with internship and ghostwriting fun. Egads.

Josh Groban 

heaven.

The Josh Groban concert was pure. unadulterated. bliss.

I literally almost cried when he first appeared on stage. My eyes watered.
I did cry when he sang.

He. Is. Amazing.
Words can not describe the experience.

Sarrina can attest to that. (she went as well).

Wasabi peas and red sofas

Yesterday I actually got to sit in on a casting session for a Super 8 Motels commercial (Super 8 is a client for Watson, where I am an intern). I went with some people from work to a very posh downtown Richmond studio, complete with red sofas, modern art, some of those older people who dress artsy and young, high tech computers and screens, and a fun asian director with long hair. It wasn't a live casting session, we were looking at video tapes that acting agencies had sent in of people reading the script - and they had been looking at tapes all day. When I got there, around 3:30, they were still going strong. If you ever have overly-judgemental urgings I suggest watching casting tapes. You satisfy your craving real quickly. We watched a gazillion tapes and got to laugh at a lot of the people, there were comments such as "whoa . . . ok next, hurry, fastforward," "look at his forehead," "her hair . . . i mean, look at it . . ." A very few head shots were pulled and there was a general be-moaning of the lack of talent (and to that I will attest - from the ones that I got to see, there was definitely a lack of talent).

They had all of these finger foods on the table and one of them were these things called wasabi peas. Incredibly addicting. They are what there name says they are - wasabi, in the form of peas - except hard and a bit salty. But boy, if you eat more than a few at a time you definitely get those sinuses nice and cleared. Whew. But man, I felt so chic and sophisticated for a few hours in my life - eating my uber-posh snack food and watching casting tapes. All I have to say is, I will never want to be on those casting tapes and hear what people say about me because the world is brutal.

Today was crazy. 4 hours of sleep. Psych test. A painfully blatant and discussed early exit from my creative writing class, so that I could get to my job interview on time (with extra time allowed for me in case I got lost). Didn't get lost (oh glorious glorious achievement). Learned that apparantely it is the thing now -a -days in office buildings to keep all of the bathrooms locked. Learned that the job I was interviewing for really wasn't a job that I wanted. Realized that experience in interviewing is good nonetheless. Realized that job hunting sucks and that everyone should come to me. Cursed Beltway/D.C. drivers. Witnessed 20 near accidents and crawled at 10 mph on 95. Cancelled another job interview set up for next week, realizing that it was more of the same type of thing I interviewed for today. Ate a lot of food at dinner (and pumped 4-hours- of- sleep- self with extremely potent caffeinated tea. Went to the student film festival, which was fabulous and hosted by an equally fabulous Jon, one of my dearest friends. Packed. Watched Gilmore Girls.

Tomorrow morning I'm going home because tomorrow night is the Josh Groban concert in Norfolk. Must see my future husband. I have been challenged to obtain a piece of his underwear. More to come on that front. Stay tuned.

P.S. I am allergic to something in my eye makeup and it's making my eyelids swell. Pretty, huh?

you can have my stereo . . . aaaand my watch

If I survive the next 6 days, it will be a miracle. Let me just take a moment to show you (in a wonderful list format) everything that must be accomplished in them and everywhere that I will have to be. Bear with me please.

Thursday:
- Internship 10-4
- 7:30pm- 9:30pm- create the master tour guide schedule with Ally
- take short story to Kinko's to get printed
- go to ATM (in central park)
- study for massive psych test
- read up on company I'm being interviewed by, print off resume

Friday:
- massive psych test
- short story due (class until 12pm)
- 2 pm job interview in Falls Church (i am afraid i'll get horribly lost, too)
- check tire pressure (central park)
- 6pm The Spectacle, with fabulous Jon emcee-ing

Saturday:
- go home (3 hour drive) early in morning
- out to eat with the family
- Josh Groban concert in Norfolk

Sunday:
- come back to campus (3 hour drive) early in morning
- MB interview selecting 1-5 pm
- super bowl & all the homework I haven't done - and research company #2 that's going to interview me and print off resume.

Monday:
- class 10-3 pm
- 5 pm job interview in Falls Church
- 7pm-8:45/10 pm, MB interview selecting

Tuesday:
- Internship 10-4
- dinner and extensive meeting at the Horse & Kitty Plantation 45 min. outside of Richmond with my ghostwriter correspondents.

At some point, I have to eat, sleep, and do my homework.
Oh. my. goodness.
Pray for me.

it was a dark and stormy night . . .

Remember Snoopy just typing away on top of his little red doghouse? . . . "It was a dark and stormy night . . ."
I don't know how he did it, but he made the cliche dramatic setting so incredibly cool. Man, I miss Snoopy.

I just experienced something that I have never experienced before as a writer. Granted, I've never written a short story before, but for a good 30 - 45 minutes this evening, I was completely in my story. Totally absorbed, fingers typing away . . . it was great. Now that doesn't mean the story is any good because I got all caught up in it, but I'd like to hope that others might get caught up in it as well - at some distant point in the future, after many inevitable revisions.

Not that anybody reading is probably very interested in the details of my creative process, so I apologize - but I'm about to start in on my second glass of green tea and I've got that weird green tea caffeine buzz. Healthy caffeine! Healthy caffeine! (Oxymoron?) I'm trying to wean myself off of caffeine from the likes of diet pepsi (which harbors that supposedly cancer-causing ingredient, aspertame). I'm struggling, though. I'm addicted. I need a mentor. Any volunteers?

I've got about roughly a quarter of my story left to write. I think I'm going to do some more brainstorming on paper and then perhaps . . . perhaps . . . finish the rest tomorrow, post-internship. But we'll see.

Ok, I must go and get another glass of green tea pumping through my bloodstream. I wonder how thick the ice is on the windshield of my car and how much earlier I should get up tomorrow to clean it off . . .

i miss them . . .

It's odd sometimes the random moments when you feel a pang of lonliness, when you realize that certain people who were always there for you are no longer there . . . and the void (tiny or large) makes its presence known again, even if it is only for a second. I had a similar feeling a few moments ago as I was writing. I was just scribbling in my notebook when all of a sudden I thought - I miss them. I really miss them. Both of my grandparents died last spring within a month of each other and it was so hard. I grew up with them. They grew in my heart as I grew from a child to a woman. My grandmother was the sweetest, kindest, most gentle soul that I've ever known, always trying to do just one more thing for me, to help me in any way that she could - even as her body was ravaged by cancer - even during her last days, when I was fortunate enough to be able to visit her. She loved God. She was my angel. My grandfather was one of the most strong, most God-loving, most intelligent men that I have ever known and I will always miss the twinkle in his eye when he called me "kelly boo-boo" and when I paid him a nickel for words of wisdom. I will never forget their funerals. I will never forget seeing their coffins. I will never forget the look on my grandfather's face when he held my grandmother's hand as she lay at rest forever. Their love lasted 54 years. Their unconditional love of me is something that I will always cherish.

I know that they are up in heaven right now and that they no longer feel the pain that ravaged their bodies during the last few years they were here, but as I look over at their photograph, I can't help but miss them.

opera in marshall

Who would have known that I would be exposed to the wonders of opera here in good old Marshall Hall? Here I am, sitting at the computer trying to think of brilliant things, when the classical notes of opera, accompanied by the swooning cadences of a bass voice drift to my ears from beneath my feet. That's right, there's a guy who lives underneath me who sings opera. He's also my HR. Normally, Katie and I are only honored with a few choice selections from his singing-in-the-shower moments, but apparently, he's practicing for something right now.

I like opera. I want to go see "The Magic Flute" in D.C. in March. But, I'm poor.

I'm not going to church tonight because of immenent (or emminent) snow. I feel bad.

Back to writing! Aaah!

if only this was real 

the pen doth write . . . perhaps

I'm supposed to be writing a short story right now. The problem is that I think I want to develop a character sketch I wrote earlier into said short story - but I don't know how. And my goal to be amazingly productive today is not starting out well, seeing as I am instead creating a new blog. I hope that I write in this one with some regularity, as opposed to the torrid and cyclical love affair I had with my xanga blog.

Last night was a weird dichatomy. I went to IV for the first time. It was fabulous, albeit a bit awkward (due to the fact that I was new to the whole scene and everyone is so close). Getting to praise the Lord with people my own age is something that I've missed out on most of my life, so it was very nice. The speaker reminded me just how much I need to show those who don't know Jesus his love through my actions and my presence. I was determined post-IV to get some work done on this story, but I got lured away to the apartments to play board games and have a drink. I don't know, I felt a bit uncomfortable there. I'm not used to such a crowd.

MUST WRITE. Dear Lord, help me to be creative and brilliant and the next big thing in writing. Or, just creative. Because I need to get this done.