Friday, February 25, 2005

something stupid

Eating pizza straight out of the oven, leaving your mouth blistered and gums sore for the next two weeks. Ouch.


I hear the door slam, and know it's you. I turn over to face the wall, pretending to be asleep. Because while I'm sleeping, I'm not here. I can escape to another world, a place of comfort and serenity. But I'm not in this safe place yet, but still here, only hiding my face so you don't see the tears rolling across my nose and soaking my pillow. These tears are the only release I will allow, a small physical manifestation of my inner grief. This is the only escape, but not because I don't want to release everything. I do. My hurt and pain are trapped inside, aching to come out, like a small bud waiting for sunshine and rain to release it from its fleshy prison, to reveal itself in all of its color and splendor. But it's not only my hurt and pain that are trapped, but my love. A stronger, more vibrant love than I've ever known. But the three are too intermingled now. Three separate colors thrown together on the canvas of my heart, mixed until each distinct image is unrecognizable, but is only a large, ugly smear. I hear you whispering now, quietly so as not to wake me, and my pillow is now completely soaked. Why are you saying this, all of these things that I'm not meant to hear? How did we let this happen?

I remember another time, and I'm crying then too, but now you're the reason I stop. It's late, later than we should be up, but we're together, and nothing else hurts anymore. I tell you everything, and you understand. You tell me jokes until I smile, and I'm happy, being with you.

And now you're the one crying. I see you, and I know. Neither of us speaks, but I know, without saying a word. I look at you and know. I've seen that look before, so many times before, and know what it means. So we run, run away from everyone because you don't want them to know. When we finally stop, you're still crying, but I can make you laugh. We sit down and talk, and you tell me everything that I already understand. I already understand, but I listen, knowing that these words are your release, the only outlet for your hurt. By the time we leave, you've stopped crying.

This time we're both sad, but neither of us is crying. You're leaving in the morning, and we both know of the emptiness that will result. But we don't cry, not yet. Instead, we talk. Not about your leaving, but about everything else. We talk of anything that means less than us, which is everything. We look at each other, and we know, but don't speak of it. With every meaningless word, we understand a little better. Each word gains more meaning because we're able to speak it, not speak of the hurt, and still understand. I'll cry after you're gone, and you know this. But I no longer need this physical manifestation of my pain, not while you're here, because you know it already. You know me that completely.

And now I understand. I still hear you whispering, but it no longer hurts. Tears are my outlet, these words are yours. You carry the same muted canvas as I do, and you only want to show me yours and to see mine. And now you can. I can show you everything I am and everything I feel. It's no longer the ugly smear of color it was when you walked in, but now appears as a vibrant splay of reds and oranges, the colors of love, with nothing else to dilute it. I finally understand. And after suppressing everything and suffocating my heart, I can finally breathe.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

highlights of my trip

1. Walking around Pentagon Row and Georgetown with Wendy and Erin. Realizing how much fun it is to have good girlfriends.

2. Finding a great jacket and tote bag on sale at Ann Taylor Loft and some fabulous jewelry on sale at Mexx.

3. Sitting next to an amazingly interesting man on the flight to Atlanta.

4. Striking up a conversation with an eighth-grader in the front office. Finding out that he thought that I was also an eighth grader.

5. Getting an incredibly shy student to voluntarily answer a question during my physics class. Have her teacher tell me how impressed he was, and that, in the 5 months he's been teaching her class, he has not once gotten her to say anything voluntarily. Feeling pretty good about myself for that.

6. Making the head of school laugh uncontrollably during my interview with her. Having her tell me that I have "a lot of adventure" in me.

7. Leaving freezing weather and several inches of snow for 70-degree weather.

8. Sweet southern comfort.

9. Going back to my hotel and sleeping for 5 hours after my exhausting 6 hour interview process.

10. Waking up just in time to watch Gilmore Girls.

11. Being tempted to answer (untruthfully) "yes" when a man invited himself to sit at my table at dinner and asked me if I had a boyfriend. Being unable to answer "yes" after my post about how lying is bad, period. Stupid conscience.

12. Having this man give me his phone number. Finshing my dinner and running out of the restaruant before he could invite himself to do anything else with me.

13. Reading an entire book of poetry on the flight home. Repeatedly re-reading some of the better poems. Feeling inspired to write poetry of my own. (We'll see how that goes.)

14. Only getting lost once on the drive home from Baltimore.

15. Singing along to Def Leppard. Without you... Can't stop the hurt inside... When love and hate collide.

16. Being reminded of my brother's ex-girlfriend, who also loved that song. Being very grateful that he married the dynamic red-head that he did.

17. When I finally get back to State College, instead of going home to my warm, soft bed, heading straight to campus to catch up on my emailing and blog-reading. Feeling incredibly pathetic for making that decision.

18. Being grateful that I've found a career that I truly love.

19. Realizing that I can change my career or location whenever I want without being afraid.

an apology

To my dearest loyal blog readers. I sincerely apologize for my lack of blogging posts over the past few days. I understand the need to have daily updates, but have been sans internet for the past four days. And, if you know me, and have witnessed my obsessive check-email-every-five-minutes tendencies, you will recognize what a complete, total annoyance that was for me. But I received a grand total of zero emails during that time, anyway, so it was probably better to only be disappointed once as opposed to 50 times a day. (Well, I did get 28 junk emails, but those don't count. Unless they count as having negative value.) But I'm back, and ready to entertain you once again.

For those who are curious, my interview went well. I made them laugh, made their students laugh, and impressed them with my fabulous fashion sense. (I found a great jacket on sale at Ann Taylor Loft the morning before.) But, after 25 hours of travel, and nearly $800 in travel expenses, I'm not sure if I want the job. So now I'm broke and jobless. *sigh*

Friday, February 18, 2005

dream weaver

Dreams reveal our true desires. They are a means for our subconsious to manifest to us our deepest wants, divulging answers we have not yet thought to seek. Dreams are the light needed to uncover dark, hidden recesses of our soul.

I had a dream two nights ago. I was in a room, surrounded by women talking and laughing. I sat down, joining the group. One woman stood at the front of the crowd, pulled a slip of paper from a jar, and called out my name. I had won the early-bird prize at this month's Enrichment meeting. And then I woke up.

Apparently, my deepest subconscious desire is to win a cheap woven oven mitt. Sometimes I'm amazed at just how shallow I really am.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

money matters

Why is finding a job so expensive? Seriously, the purpose of having a job is supposed to be make money. After that, you can start spending it. But no, if you want to be a teacher, you have to spend money up front. Lots of it. And then take a job paying half what you could be making as an engineer. And one that requires more hours. (The first couple of years, anyway.) Sometimes I wonder if my sanity is fully intact.

I headed out to the mall to find the perfect interview outfit for my big teaching debut on Tuesday. And left the mall with nothing. Well, that's not entirely true. I managed to procure a sad, horrible ache in my stomach, telling me that no, I can't really justify buying a new outfit with money that I don't currently have. And, no, I have no choice but to justify spending $400 that I don't have on a plane ticket and rental car for my interview. Apparently, private high schools don't have quite the amount of money I once thought they did. Which is why they have one teacher (oh, that's me) coach cross-country, teach two sections of three different classes, advise 20 students, and lead a club. And go into debt getting there.

But, really, I'm not complaining. I'd honestly much rather be overworked than underworked, and would much rather be poor than stuck in a job I despise. So, really, this money is well-spent. Really.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

are all lies bad?

In response to Katie's and Bryan's posts.

Are all lies bad? The simple answer is yes. All lies are bad. Because they're deceitful, make the liar an untrustworthy person, and are just wrong. Period.

But that's the simple answer. And, as I'm sure we're all aware, life generally isn't as simple as we'd like. We make justifications, worry about hurting others or even ourselves. We try to be nice, try to keep from hurting others, and sometimes at the expense of the truth. And so we lie. We all do. Some more than others, but we all have at some point. So where do we draw the line? When are we truly justified in lying, omitting crucial facts, or "tweaking" the truth, and when are we doing it simply to save face, or because we're afraid to admit the truth? Those answers aren't quite as simple.

I cannot condone lying simply to get gain, or to improve one's own standing. It's easily justified with the "anything that improves our overall existence is good" mentality. But the truth is, as much as we hate to believe it, lying for this purpose cannot improve our overall existence. Because, in order for your existence to truly improve, you must become a better person. And lying simply doesn't do that. If anything, it makes us worse off, simply because we were willing to compromise our integrity, and somebody else's trust, for selfish gain. It may get you the job or promotion you wanted, or win you respect, but if you couldn't earn those from your own merits, you don't deserve them to begin with, and could be inadvertently denying someone else greater accomplishments. If you get a job because you lied about your qualifications, not only do you not deserve it, but you're more than likely taking that job from someone who did, thereby decreasing their overall existence, and hurting society in general.

Lying to spare someone's feelings is a little tricker. I think everyone would agree that it's just downright rude to go around telling people you think they're ugly, stupid or boring. Humans, by nature, have a lot of opinions, and tact dictates that we keep most of them to ourselves. But feeding people sugar-coated lies could end up hurting them just as badly. I cannot believe that it's ever okay to tell someone a flat-out lie, even to spare their feelings. Tact and discretion should be used to determine when to keep our mouths shut, but lying hurts even worse than the truth. There will always be things that we don't like in others. Always. But if we keep our eyes open, we can also always find good in everyone as well. Focus on that. Tell them things you honestly like about them.

Truth can hurt. But sometimes, not knowing the truth can hurt even more. So there are three simple questions that determine whether or not being completely honest is the right move, even if it might hurt another's feelings.

1)Do they already know it? People are generally very self-conscious. Most of us are more than aware of our faults and weaknesses, and certainly don't need constant reminders of how imperfect we really are. So, if the person already know the truth, leave them alone. When we insist on constantly reminding others of their shortcomings, simply for the sake of "honesty" or "telling it like it is", we being to nag, rub salt in already-opened wounds, and ruin otherwise wonderful relationships.

2) Will this knowledge benefit them in the end? If somebody's boyfriend is cheating on them, as much as it would hurt to find out, it's better than finding out later, after investing a lot of time and emotion. Telling somebody you think they're a complete moron probably won't benefit them.

3) Is it my place to tell them? Everyone has their own network of friends and family that they count on for advice. If you're in that network, not only is it your place, it's your responsibility to tell them things that will benefit their lives and help them to become better people. You don't have to be rude or insensitive about it, but sometimes, something should be said. Even when it hurts. If you're a stranger in the grocery store, unless there is an immediate threat to somebody, mind your own business.

Changing stories to make them funnier? Perfectly okay. Anything for a good laugh.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

please don't think less of me because of this

1. Total amount of music files on your computer:
Zero. No joke. I love music, LOVE driving around listening to it, and my sisters and friends are always introducing me to great new artists, but I've never actually downloaded any onto my computer. I was frantically trying to download some songs after I saw that Katie wanted me to do this, so I wouldn't look like a COMPLETE moron, but Napster's not currently working on the computers at school. Sad.

2. The last CD you bought was:
I haven't actually bought a CD since high school. Again, no joke. I do, however, have a huge, ever-expanding lists of CD's I want to buy when I have a real job and can afford to spend money on something other than basic necessities. The last CD that was given to me was Rhythm of the Saints (Paul Simon).

3. What is the song you last listened to before reading this message?
"When You Come Back Down" by Nickel Creek. They're my newest favorite band (I LOVE bluegrassy type stuff)and it's really the sweetest song ever.

4. Write down 5 songs that you often listen to or that mean a lot to you:

This should be easy. I'm the queen bee of cheesey sentimental songs, so there are WAY more than 5 I could list.

"Drift off to Dream" by Travis Tritt. After I moved to San Antonio my senior year of high school, the first boy I fell in love with used to play this for me every time I went back to Houston to visit him. I totally thought I was going to marry the guy.

"Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" by Lucinda Williams. Love her music. When my family was on vacation in Brazil, we sang all of our favorite songs everywhere we went, since we never heard them down there. We were talking about this song, and I forgot the name and called it "Cartwheels Across the Desert." When we got home, my sisters and I made a "Sister Mix" of all our favorite love songs and called it "Cartwheels Across the Desert." We thought we were very clever.

"Oh! What a Beautiful Morning" from Oklahoma. My dad used to stand at the bottom of the stairs and sing it at the top of his lungs to wake us up in the morning. He is an itty-bitty man (barely bigger than me) and would sing it in a LOUD, DEEP voice. (He still does, when I'm home.) It makes me laugh whenever I hear it.

"Listen to Your Heart" by Roxette. My best friend and I used to drive to high school together every morning, and would play that month's favorite song over and over and over again every single day, until we found a new favorite song. This one lasted the longest out of all of our "morning songs." My friendship with her was exactly what a best-girlfriend relationship should be like. Listening to cheesey songs over and over again, walking home from school the long way, just to pass a boy's house, staying up late painting our nails and gossipping, etc etc. I miss that a lot. It reminds me of how great it is to have good friends and how much mine mean to me.

"Rhythm of the Night" from the Moulin Rouge sountrack. I love love love dancing to this song. I've always wanted to enjoy dancing, but just never have, except to this song. So I get really excited whenever I hear it.

5. Who are you going to pass this stick to? (3 persons) and why?

I'm not even sure that 3 people read this blog. So I'll have Bryan do it, and Wendy, if she still reads this. (Which I think she does.) Can't think of a third person. Sorry. That'll have to do.

don't talk to me

I'm a Gilmore Girl's fanatic. I love it. Love. More than I've ever loved any man, and quite possibly more than I ever will love one. Because, let'sface it, as great as men are to have around, they just don't quite provide the wit and drama that the Gilmore Girls do. (Well, maybe the drama, but it's not quite as fun when I'm the one crying.) So, every Tuesday night (hey, that's TONIGHT) at eight o'clock, rest assured that I will be in front of my TV.

My roommate has started inviting her friends over to watch with us. Sounds fun, right? A Gilmore Girl's party! Wrong. Big. Fat. Wrong. The problem? Unlike me, these people have not been obsessed since season 1. They weren't there when Rory got accepted to Chilton, or even to Yale, aren't aware of her past relationships with Dean and Jess, or about Lorelai's dating history. So. They show up late. Which means that I have to go downstairs to let them in. (Because my roommate shows up even later than her friends.) I've been tempted to leave them out in the cold until a commercial break, but I'm too much of a pushover to really ever do that. And then, of course, they need to be caught up. Not only on today's episode, but on the entire history of the Gilmore Girls.

Wait, that's her mother? Is Luke her dad? I'm confused. Could you please explain the last five seasons to me?

No, I absolutley cannot. Not during the show, anyway. If you want to know what's going on, show up an hour early, and I'll tell you whatever you need to know. But do NOT talk to me while the Gilmore Girls are talking. It's really a simple rule that we should have learned in elementary school. Listen when someone else is talking. And, yes, Rory and Lorelai count as real people.

Now, maybe you think I'm a little pathetic for getting so worked up about fake events happening in the lives of imaginary people. But they're FUNNY. Just watch, you'll see.

Monday, February 14, 2005

sweet contentment

Everybody needs to celebrate being in love on Valentines day. So I woke up this morning, and at the risk of re-living a lot of heartbreak and loneliness, pulled out my notebook of love letters I've collected over the years. I read cautiously at first, skimming over some and entirely skipping others. But then I became more brave, reading and re-reading each, laughing at old memories and drawing myself into what seems now to be somebody else's life. It was marvelous to realize that I can now relive all of my past memories, even the ones that devastated me at the time, without any anger, bitterness or hurt.

After school, I had a cozy homemade dinner with friends, then drove home and played my cello for a while. (It's amazing how therapeutic that can be.) Then I changed into my enormously warm yellow hoodie, and snuggled under my covers with ginger ale, candy, and a book. I finished The Grapes of Wrath, then stayed up until 3 am starting Madame Bovary. Perfect.

how to win my heart

In honor of Valentines Day, here are some ways men have charmed me. (To make up for the not-so-charming conversations that never should have taken place.)

God must hate me for taking you away from me. I don't know what I'm going to do without you.

Every day, you become more and more beautiful to me.

I think you're being savead for someone special, somebody worthy of your greatness.

I've never met anybody quite like you. You're the most incredible friend I've ever known.

I love you. You may not believe me right now, but I do.

I am so grateful for you. I can't think about you without having hundreds of wonderful memories come to mind. I love you for who you are and everything you do.

My life is so blessed to have you in it.

Now, this is why I love dating.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

christmas joy

I opened one of my presents labeled "To: Poodle From: Mom" and peeked inside.

Um, mom? Isn't this Ashley's sweater?

Yup. I took it out of her drawer last night.

And gave it to me? For Christmas?

Well, it's not really mine to give, so you can go put it back in her drawer now.

Okay... But why did you wrap it up and put MY name on it?

Well, I was looking at all of the gift piles last night, and yours looked smaller than everyone else's. So I found some things around the house and wrapped them up to put in your pile. You know, so they all look even.


Friday, February 11, 2005

whoa, twins!

I've been on lots of dates in my life. Granted, I haven't had a single offer in the past five months, but during my glorious college days, I usually had a couple a week. But these were not just regular old dates. They were first dates. Every one of them. Because, somehow, I never managed to score a second date with anyone. Ever. Now, most of the time, I was more than okay with this, but still. It would have been nice to know that somebody wanted to spend more than just one evening with me.

I thought I was getting pretty good at the first-date-get-to-know-you conversation and body language. Lean forward and smile intently during a story. Toss head back and laugh at punchline. Really, I had it down. I repeated it a hundred times a semester, so I definitely had enough practice. Was my personality really that lame that not one single man wanted to call me again?

Now, my little sister and I look a lot alike. A lot. Which can be pretty funny at times. We had our bishop convinced for an entire year that we were twins.

Hey, girls. My wife tried to tell me last week that you two actually aren't twins. Don't worry, though. I didn't fall for it.

Good job, bishop. You're too smart for her!

I had a large 8x10 picture of her in my apartment last year, and every single person who walked in thought it was me. Without fail. (Did they really think I was that vain? Seriously, that's embarrassing.)

Hey, that's a really good picture of you!

Oh. Thanks. That's not me.

Wow, I didn't know you were a twin!

That's probably because I'm not.

(Apparently, she's the cute one, because every "really good picture of me" has actually been of her.) So I've come to understand when people may occasionaly mistake us for each other. Complete strangers often smile, wave, "Hi, Ashley!" "Oh, hey. I'm actually her sister." And the same thing happened to her. A lot.

Um, Poodle, could you tell your friends that I'm not you?


Oh, some boy today thought I was you.

Well, who was he?

I don't know. Brown hair, looked like an engineer.

Well, gee. That sure narrows it down.

He thinks he went on a date with me last week.

What?! Did you tell him you're my sister?

Well, no. I just told him I had no idea who he was. (She really is quite a charmer.)

Wow, thanks. That's wonderful. How often does this happen, exactly?

Oh, about once a week.

Great. That's just fabulous.

Well, at least it wasn't my lame personality that kept them away.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

how not to charm a woman

conversations that probably never should have taken place, but did.

him: I want you to be my girlfriend.
me: I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I'm just not attracted to you.
him: Okay, well then, I'm going to ask you not to date anyone else for the next six months. That should give you enough time to fall in love with me.
me: You have GOT to be kidding me.

him: Hey, happy birthday!
me: Wow, thanks for remembering!
him: Well, did you get the present I sent you?
me: No, but I'll check the mail as soon as I get home.
him: Oh, don't bother. I didn't send anything.
me: Oh. Thanks, anyway..

him: Wow, you really should not ever wear those jeans.
me: Silence. For the rest of the evening.

him: You want to marry me.
me: What?? No, I don't.
him: Yes, you do. I know you do. All I have to do is ask. Of course, I'm not going to, but still. If I did, you'd say yes.
me: Well, I didn't want to before, but after that charming speech, how can I resist?

me: (towards the end of a date) Can I use your restroom?
him: No. You should have gone while we were at the concert.
me: What? Seriously?
him: Yes, seriously.
me: Wow.

him: I just hurt you pretty badly. You should be crying right now. I know you want to. So why aren't you?
me: Right. Bye.

him: Wow, you looked really terrible this morning.
me: Um, yeah. I know. Thanks for reminding me.
him: Well, do you want to have dinner with me on Friday?

me: Sometimes I worry that people think I'm boring.
him: Yeah, I can see how they'd think that.
me: Thanks a lot. Really.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

mother dear

They were arguing, this time louder than usual. It was the same debate that seemed to have crept up again and again over the past several months. Only now, it was worse. She threatened to leave him if he didn't grant her this one request. Leave him, tearing apart their family and their home. She loved him, and her childern, but she desperately needed just this one thing. Just this, she thought, could make it okay. Could make her okay.

It was late, almost midnight, and the kids were all in bed. But the arguing had woken one, the young girl. She crouched at the top of the stairs, listening, tears trickling slowly down her thin red face. She was so scared, so unsure. Unsure if her mother would still be there in the morning, or if her mother even loved her. The child needed her, so desperately, but wondered how much longer she would be there. How could she threaten to leave? A mother couldn't do that, not if she really loved her family.

But the mother did love her child. She loved her whole family, desperately, and knew that her threat was blank. She never really would have left. Not really. She couldn't have - she loved them too much. But the abuse she had faced years ago, throughout her own childhood, had caught up to her. To a child, a mother is a protector. But hers had not been, had only added to the threat, and she knew that other children faced that same terror now. And, while she hadn't been able to protect herself, she could protect them. She had always provided safety for her own family, but that wasn't enough. No, she had to do more, to provide that surety for every child who lacked it. It was the only way.

The child, however, didn't understand this. Not then. She was only eight years old, and knew little of who her mother really was, of what she had faced. But, with time, she learned to understand. Slowly, pieces of a shattered life, an ugly life at times, began to fit together, finally forming a magnificent whole. Her mother had always loved her, she knows this now. But the woman had known so little of love in her early years, she struggled to convey its full depths to her own children. But now the child knows, and has forgiven. But what really is there to forgive? She had simply shown her how to love, to love all, and to provide for those who need it most. And that is her greatest gift.

this is a true story

Now, just so you know, I love my roommate dearly, and she really is much smarter than this may make her sound. But it happened over 2 years ago, and I still laugh out loud every time I think about it.

Poodle! Guess what I got at the store!

Um, a box of milk duds you want to share with me?

No. Good guess, though. I got TWO GALLONS for THREE DOLLARS.

Two gallons of what?

You know, two gallons.

Um, right. But two gallons of what?

Just two gallons.

You know, I still just don't really get it.

Two gallons. For three dollars!

Right. You said that. Two gallons of what?

Nothing! Just two gallons.

You bought two gallons of NOTHING for three dollars?


Friend, I think you just got RIPPED OFF.

No! They were selling one gallon for $3.50 So two gallons was a better deal.

Oh, yes. Smart move. I'd much rather have two gallons of nothing than just one.

Yeah, I know! That's a lot more, for less!


I have no idea why Smith's thought they could sell intelligent customers two gallons of nothing for three dollars. But thanks to my roommate, they did.

*This story is completely, totally, 100% true. Well, maybe only 95% true. I don't think I ever said anything about milk duds. But they sure sound good, don't they?

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

my biggest pet peeve

Hating. Specifically, hating a generalized group of people. Such as Those Who Drive With Their Brites On. Those Who Drive Slow in the Fast Lane. Or, Those Who Hold Up the Line at the Post Office. How can we hate someone for such petty acts? Can you really believe that people who commit such heinous crimes can have absolutely no redeeming qualities? That they are all menaces to society, and probably have a secret, underground group called Lets Annoy the Masses (LAM)? That they spend their days driving up and down the freeway with their brites on, simply to bug us? Now, doesn't that sound just a little ridiculous?

But I guess this makes me one of Them. One of The Haters that I hate so much. Only, I aim my malice at Those Who Hate for Stupid Reasons. But I have a righteous reason for my hatred. I'm just want some love in the world.

What the world needs now is love sweet love....

So, clearly, I'm justified. Right? Right?


Can I really believe that Those Who Hate for Stupid Reasons have no redeeming qualities? That they spend their days hating for stupid reasons just to bug me? Now, that does sound just a little ridiculous. I guess you can't conquer hate with hate.

Monday, February 07, 2005

is it considered lazy

if you walk an extra 15 feet so you can use the automatic door?

Friday, February 04, 2005

saying goodbye

It had been a year since I'd left, and had returned for a brief visit. My sister was leaving, and I had come back to say goodbye. She was gone now, and I wandered around campus, marveling at how little had changed in the scenery, but how it all somehow seemed different. It was no longer a part of me, but merely memories, a part of my past. My life had moved on, had moved east.

Then I heard his voice. A voice from an even more distant past, but one that I could never forget. No, I had spent too many nights dreaming of it, and too many days absorbed in its words, consumed by their meaning, knowing that every moment established a deeper and stronger connection with him. But those days were over. He was married now, happily married, and had a son. I walked hesitantly toward him, unsure of what to say or if I should say anything at all. After all, he was married. And, although years had passed since I last longed for and craved his love, his wife knew me and of our past. She had been present for most of it, since the three of us had grown up in the same neighborhood. I knew that I had moved on, but was unsure if she completely believed it, or if the past still haunted her. My past, with him.

But it was too late. He saw me, and walked towards me.

Come have dinner with us.

Ummm... I don't know.

Have dinner with us. Tonight. I'll have her call you.

And that was that. I spent the evening watching them interact, as husband and wife. They played with their son, discussed plans. I told them about the men who had come in and out of my life, and how I was still looking for one who would enter and stay for good. He talked about school, she, about her child. He and I had needed each other for a time, but that time was over, for both of us. They had each other now, and gave each other what they both needed. And I had been provided with everything I needed and more, through other men and other means. And I was glad he hadn't chosen me.

Thursday, February 03, 2005


Hello, Katie, and welcome to my blog. Please feel free to peruse at your leisure. I hope you enjoy your time here at Pink Poodle Prints.

who am i, really?

I really feel like there are a billion and one different versions of me. I'm constantly changing, adapting, and being influenced by the people and events surrounding me. And by the scenery. As I type, I am gazing out my bedroom window at snow drifting lightly over the forest of trees in my back yard. It's enchanting, and somehow makes me believe that life is good, that I'm okay. And this moment, watching the snow fall and enjoying the warmth of my blanket, has changed me, just like every other moment and every other experience. I'm no longer exactly the girl I was ten minutes ago. Even if you knew everything there ever was to know about me yesterday, you wouldn't know me so completely anymore. The summation of an infinity of near-nothings has shaped me into me. But only for this brief moment, for the moments never stop adding up.

But if this is true, why am I ashamed of who I used to be? Why am I still embarrased at the home videos of a skinny, white-haired girl jumping in front of the camera to attract attention? Enough moments have accumulated since then that I no longer see any sign of that girl in me. The new episodes have entered in, crowding the old and pushing them out of existence. Although I may no longer be the dorky seven-year-old, she is a part of my past, a the pages of my life neatly folded away and nearly forgotten. If I hadn't once been her, I would not now be me. Not completely.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

100 Things, all about me

1. I love the color pink.
2. I love shoes with tall heels.
3. I have a BS in mechanical engineering.
4. I'm currently working on my master's degree in mechanical engineering.
5. Grad school made me realize that I love taking classes, hate research.
6. I'm graduating in August and teaching high school.
7. I'm more excited about it than anything else I've ever done.
8. I come from a very accomplished family (2 doctors, a CEO, an accomplished pianist, etc.) and feel a lot of pressure to live up to their expectations.
9. I love my sisters more than anything in the world.
10. I'm naming my first daughter after my mom.
11. I get really jealous of people I don't love.
12. As soon as I start really loving them, the jealousy goes away.
13. I never complain at restaurants or other establishments, no matter how bad the food/service/experience was.
14. I love staying up late at night talking.
15. I love my quiet time in the morning.
16. I read about 30 books last year.
17. I've already finished 4 this year.
18. I'm willing to try anything, as long as it doesn't go against my beliefs.
19. I hate dancing.
20. I'm terrible at it.
21. A boy once stopped dancing with me in the middle of a song and walked away.
22. I thought it was kind of funny.
23. I love road trips.
24. I have a hard time finding people who love them as much as I do to come with me.
25. I doesn't take much to make me really happy.
26. One of my closest high school friends told me during my senior year of college that he was in love with me and wanted to marry me.
27. I wasn't in love with him, but still really really hated hurting him.
28. I've been in love before.
29. He wasn't in love with me.
30. I've realized recently that I'm okay with it.
31. I went to prom with a guy who had his ears, eyebrow, nipples, and tongue pierced.
32. He claimed he had something else pierced, but I never saw that.
33. I love dogs.
34. I'm a sucker for charm and romance.
35. That can cause problems for me.
36. My favorite flowers are tulips and orchids.
37. I love valentine's day, even if I don't have a boyfriend.
38. Stay-at-home mom is my ideal job.
39. I can't wait to have kids.
40. I want to have as many as possible, but I worry I won't be able to have a lot...
41. One of my bones is attached backwards from the way it's supposed to be.
42. My hair was practically white when I was a kid.
43. Until about 2 years ago, I thought it was still really blonde.
44. It's brown.
45. I'm learning to play the cello.
46. I love the sound of string instruments.
47. I've always wanted to be a ballerina, even though I usually hate dancing.
48. I lost weight freshman year of college.
49. I gained it all back.
50. I'm still really skinny.
51. I lose weight every time I move somewhere new.
52. I would do anything for my friends.
53. My favorite feeling is knowing I've helped somebody recognize their potential. Maybe that's why I always fall for men who have way more potential than they give themselves credit for.
54. I can't stay mad at anyone for very long.
55. The scariest moment of my life was when I thought my sister hated me.
56. I completely fell apart and could hardly function.
57. She didn't hate me.
58. My relationship with her now is better than it's ever been.
59. I love eating candy during movies.
60. I inherited my mom's sweet tooth.
61. I've never had a falling out with a friend that wasn't resolved.
62. The smell of coffee makes my chest hurt.
63. I'm incredibly competitive.
64. I hate that about myself.
65. Texture is more important to me than taste in food.
66. I love to bake, but rarely do because I'm poor.
67. I used to have to take pills every day that made me throw up.
68. I stopped taking them without consulting my doctor, because I was tired of feeling sick all the time.
69. Turns out I'm perfectly healthy without them.
70. I love wearing dangly earrings.
71. I love to travel.
72. That's why I'm broke.
73. No movie has ever made me cry.
74. Arachnaphobia was the only movie that gave me nightmares.
75. I love giving and getting surprises.
76. I hate looking like I'm lost.
77. If I realize I'm going the wrong way, I'll go into the bathroom and walk the other way when I come out, so nobody sees looking lost.
78. I love being in nature.
79. This usually surprises people, because I'm almost always dressed up.
80. I've never once worried that I won't get married.
81. I love listening to the Lizzie McGuire soundtrack.
82. My new favorite band is Nickel Creek.
83. The elders in my little sister's mission told her they think I'm hot.
84. I've always wanted to date a younger man. Maybe I'll have her set me up with one of them when she gets home.
85. I always walked on my toes as a kid. Sometimes I still do.
86. I love organizing cupboards/pantries/desks/etc.
87. It takes me a really long time to fall asleep at night.
88. I lived in the same neighborhood my whole life until senior year of high school.
89. Then I realized I really like moving and trying out new places.
90. I'm excited to find out where I'll move in August.
91. I obsessively floss/whiten/brush/listerine my teeth.
92. I am incredibly attracted to both intelligence and humor.
93. My first kiss was on the fourth of July when I was 16.
94. It's really hard for me to admit when somebody has hurt me.
95. I don't really like talking on the phone. I still do it a lot, because I have friends and family all over the country, and it's the only way I can talk to them.
96. I'm obsessed with email.
97. I sign up for the YOU COULD BE AN INSTANT WINNER!!!! popups, just in case I might win.
98. I never win.
99. I love telling people about my dreams.
100. I sometimes alter stories to make them funnier.