Roses and Rainbows
Mom's headstone has finally arrived.
It's on the other side of the country, in Ohio, but my grandmother sent me pictures. It's beautiful, with a rose etched into the marble. My aunt placed a brass angel in front of it, and Mom's best friend left flowers and a wind chime. I had hoped that seeing the stone would give me some sense of closure. Make it feel more real, somehow easier to carry, that I'll spend the rest of my life without her. But it didn't really change anything. . .just made me cry, and carved deeper this well of loss. I want to send yellow roses out to her grave. Her favorite flower. If I mail them to my grandmother, I'm sure she'll deliver them for me.
Two weeks ago, I tried to be brave and had a consultation with the student health services at my college. This Wednesday, I'll be going to my first therapy session. I feel a little nervous. I don't know where I'm going to begin. I'm afraid the therapist will think I'm handling things just fine because I'm so good at acting like I am in front of other people. Even at the consultation, I was worried they thought I was speaking about the situation too coldly, too calm. I don't really know what to expect. Or if I really need it - I have managed without, these past few months. But maybe the fact that I walked through the door into those offices means I know, deep down, I need someone like a therapist to talk to. My friends are all kind and patient ears, but I don't like burdening them with my problems when they have enough hardships of their own.
I'll see how it goes.
The Friday before this past one, I helped my friend Stephanie and her boyfriend move into her first apartment. It's a cute little place, on the third floor of a building without any elevator. The stairs were killer as we tried to move her bed and shelves and the like. I helped unpack all of the moving boxes, hung up the majority of her clothes, arranged the contents of her bookshelves and DVD shelves into alphabetic order. She has some seriously beautiful hardcover editions of books such as Wicked that I'm very, very jealous of. I hope one day I'll have as handsome a collection of books as she does. The weather was beautiful that day, and the moving went smoothly; we were done by evening.
The very next day, on Saturday, I attended the Festival of Colors at the Sri Sri Radha Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork with Autumn and Cody. It's a Hindu festival celebrating spring and the triumph of good. Everyone is encouraged to wear white shirts, for the temple sells scented colors made of corn starch that people throw into the air - and at each other - throughout the day. At the beginning of each hour, everyone throws a handful of color into the air simultaneously; it looks like a rainbow dust cloud exploded over the temple. It was my first time attending the festival, and about the third time for Autumn and Cody. I usually dislike huge crowds, but the Festival of Color was different. You can feel the joy in the atmosphere at the temple. It really is a celebration, where it's encouraged to hug strangers, to sing together, to stand close together. Each person pitches in to make sure everyone else is splattered with color, until you can't tell anyone apart from a distance. By the time I left, my clothes, my skin, and my hair were completely covered in scented rainbows. I had streaks of dark purple in my hair; smudges of orange and green across my nose and cheeks; the shoelaces of my sneakers are still pink and will never be white again. When I got home and into the shower, there was so much purple in my hair that it streamed down my shoulders like grape juice into the bottom of the tub. I had a really good time, and it's so cute watching little kids throw the colors, either shy or impish. A woman even brought her dog, its black fur a canvas of colorful handprints by day's end.
As finals week approaches, I've been getting busier and busier. Worked on an art project for my poetry class all this past week - the assignment was to compile all the poetry we've written for the semester in a creative fashion. So I thought it'd be cute to trace my foot, cut out paper footprints, glitter glue the outline and stick my poetry onto them. I call it "Steps Toward Better Poetry". I placed them in a shoebox full of glitter sand, so it looks like the poetry footprints are stepping onto a stardust beach. I hope my professor will like it. Otherwise, studying for my final tests and getting ready for several project presentations and a final essay. I absolutely hate public speaking of any kind, so presenting my work to the class is what I'm dreading the most. *sighs* Last Tuesday, I left my USB with my essay and short stories on it in the library's computer lab, but only realized it when I was standing at the bus stop. So I had to run to the other side of the campus to retrieve it, missing my bus, therefore missing my train home. . .at least it was warm that day. Holding onto the small blessings. This weekend it's been cold and snowy and wet again, but I hope it won't last long.
Last Friday was my first time cooking bacon. I have a bacon grease burn but it was worth it; the Chicken and Bacon Casserole I made, recipe courtesy of tumblr, was delicious. I'm filling up the recipe book my grandmother sent me, week by week. <3
In Chris Colfer news, he's going on another book tour this summer for the third book in his fairytale series The Land of Stories. It's not confirmed, but his publicist said they were considering touring in Europe depending on his schedule. His book tours have never come to Utah but that doesn't keep me from wishing and crossing my fingers!
Chris is also going to be writing the script for the 19th episode of this season of Glee. I'm really excited for him and am looking forward to his episode - he even gets to choose all the songs that will be performed in it! - but at the same time I'm wary, because the fandom is already wanking about it and nobody even knows what it's about. Typical crappy Glee fandom reaction, though. >_>
Last Tuesday, Glee: New York finally started - the show is now all New York, all the time, every episode - and I actually really really loved it. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. There's still problematic writing, but Kurt got so much screentime and songs that I didn't care, I was just so happy to see him in a real storyline again and be on screen for more than 5 damn minutes and interact with several characters beyond just Rachel and Santana. Cutting the cast down from 20 major characters to only 7 (!!!!!!) has done wonders, and gives all the characters and storylines room to breathe and develop again. Said major characters of Glee: New York are Kurt, Rachel, Santana, Artie, Mercedes, Sam, and Blaine. With the exception of the last two, I love all those characters, and look forward to seeing where they end up in this "new" Glee. I know I shouldn't have my hopes so high, but I can't help it. If all the Glee: New York episodes gives me that much Kurt, then I am a pleased fangirl. I love him so much and I was so happy to get so much of him again, it felt like the good old days of season 2.
Thinking of Kurt, I still need to make a post with highlights of all the Kurt pretty from this past season. I don't know how, but I swear Chris becomes more and more beautiful with every episode. Maybe I'll post it when finals are over. =)
Off to read some more of Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell before bed. . . <3
It's on the other side of the country, in Ohio, but my grandmother sent me pictures. It's beautiful, with a rose etched into the marble. My aunt placed a brass angel in front of it, and Mom's best friend left flowers and a wind chime. I had hoped that seeing the stone would give me some sense of closure. Make it feel more real, somehow easier to carry, that I'll spend the rest of my life without her. But it didn't really change anything. . .just made me cry, and carved deeper this well of loss. I want to send yellow roses out to her grave. Her favorite flower. If I mail them to my grandmother, I'm sure she'll deliver them for me.
Two weeks ago, I tried to be brave and had a consultation with the student health services at my college. This Wednesday, I'll be going to my first therapy session. I feel a little nervous. I don't know where I'm going to begin. I'm afraid the therapist will think I'm handling things just fine because I'm so good at acting like I am in front of other people. Even at the consultation, I was worried they thought I was speaking about the situation too coldly, too calm. I don't really know what to expect. Or if I really need it - I have managed without, these past few months. But maybe the fact that I walked through the door into those offices means I know, deep down, I need someone like a therapist to talk to. My friends are all kind and patient ears, but I don't like burdening them with my problems when they have enough hardships of their own.
I'll see how it goes.
The Friday before this past one, I helped my friend Stephanie and her boyfriend move into her first apartment. It's a cute little place, on the third floor of a building without any elevator. The stairs were killer as we tried to move her bed and shelves and the like. I helped unpack all of the moving boxes, hung up the majority of her clothes, arranged the contents of her bookshelves and DVD shelves into alphabetic order. She has some seriously beautiful hardcover editions of books such as Wicked that I'm very, very jealous of. I hope one day I'll have as handsome a collection of books as she does. The weather was beautiful that day, and the moving went smoothly; we were done by evening.
The very next day, on Saturday, I attended the Festival of Colors at the Sri Sri Radha Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork with Autumn and Cody. It's a Hindu festival celebrating spring and the triumph of good. Everyone is encouraged to wear white shirts, for the temple sells scented colors made of corn starch that people throw into the air - and at each other - throughout the day. At the beginning of each hour, everyone throws a handful of color into the air simultaneously; it looks like a rainbow dust cloud exploded over the temple. It was my first time attending the festival, and about the third time for Autumn and Cody. I usually dislike huge crowds, but the Festival of Color was different. You can feel the joy in the atmosphere at the temple. It really is a celebration, where it's encouraged to hug strangers, to sing together, to stand close together. Each person pitches in to make sure everyone else is splattered with color, until you can't tell anyone apart from a distance. By the time I left, my clothes, my skin, and my hair were completely covered in scented rainbows. I had streaks of dark purple in my hair; smudges of orange and green across my nose and cheeks; the shoelaces of my sneakers are still pink and will never be white again. When I got home and into the shower, there was so much purple in my hair that it streamed down my shoulders like grape juice into the bottom of the tub. I had a really good time, and it's so cute watching little kids throw the colors, either shy or impish. A woman even brought her dog, its black fur a canvas of colorful handprints by day's end.
As finals week approaches, I've been getting busier and busier. Worked on an art project for my poetry class all this past week - the assignment was to compile all the poetry we've written for the semester in a creative fashion. So I thought it'd be cute to trace my foot, cut out paper footprints, glitter glue the outline and stick my poetry onto them. I call it "Steps Toward Better Poetry". I placed them in a shoebox full of glitter sand, so it looks like the poetry footprints are stepping onto a stardust beach. I hope my professor will like it. Otherwise, studying for my final tests and getting ready for several project presentations and a final essay. I absolutely hate public speaking of any kind, so presenting my work to the class is what I'm dreading the most. *sighs* Last Tuesday, I left my USB with my essay and short stories on it in the library's computer lab, but only realized it when I was standing at the bus stop. So I had to run to the other side of the campus to retrieve it, missing my bus, therefore missing my train home. . .at least it was warm that day. Holding onto the small blessings. This weekend it's been cold and snowy and wet again, but I hope it won't last long.
Last Friday was my first time cooking bacon. I have a bacon grease burn but it was worth it; the Chicken and Bacon Casserole I made, recipe courtesy of tumblr, was delicious. I'm filling up the recipe book my grandmother sent me, week by week. <3
In Chris Colfer news, he's going on another book tour this summer for the third book in his fairytale series The Land of Stories. It's not confirmed, but his publicist said they were considering touring in Europe depending on his schedule. His book tours have never come to Utah but that doesn't keep me from wishing and crossing my fingers!
Chris is also going to be writing the script for the 19th episode of this season of Glee. I'm really excited for him and am looking forward to his episode - he even gets to choose all the songs that will be performed in it! - but at the same time I'm wary, because the fandom is already wanking about it and nobody even knows what it's about. Typical crappy Glee fandom reaction, though. >_>
Last Tuesday, Glee: New York finally started - the show is now all New York, all the time, every episode - and I actually really really loved it. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. There's still problematic writing, but Kurt got so much screentime and songs that I didn't care, I was just so happy to see him in a real storyline again and be on screen for more than 5 damn minutes and interact with several characters beyond just Rachel and Santana. Cutting the cast down from 20 major characters to only 7 (!!!!!!) has done wonders, and gives all the characters and storylines room to breathe and develop again. Said major characters of Glee: New York are Kurt, Rachel, Santana, Artie, Mercedes, Sam, and Blaine. With the exception of the last two, I love all those characters, and look forward to seeing where they end up in this "new" Glee. I know I shouldn't have my hopes so high, but I can't help it. If all the Glee: New York episodes gives me that much Kurt, then I am a pleased fangirl. I love him so much and I was so happy to get so much of him again, it felt like the good old days of season 2.
Thinking of Kurt, I still need to make a post with highlights of all the Kurt pretty from this past season. I don't know how, but I swear Chris becomes more and more beautiful with every episode. Maybe I'll post it when finals are over. =)
Off to read some more of Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell before bed. . . <3