(no subject)
Snow day! Yes, oh yes, oh yes... hehehe. Did i mention that i'm excited. I didn't even dare dream about it last night because the forecast was sleet (that had already come through by 6pm) and then nothing much after that. But at 5:30am I got my - you don't have to wake up call. Ironic, but I don't complain. woohoo!
Overall, my mood's been better this week (once I get home - school's a different story, but I'm going to ignore that story today because I don't have to go). My doc has me working on self-esteem... which is remarkably hard to fix, btw. Lord help you if you feel bad about yourself. It's some kind of endless cycle, even when you're trying to fix it. ah, and there's my friend my own head now... you can't fix yourself anyway, you're not good enough. well ha, I'll show you. It's too much a life and death issue now for my better half to just give up. I don't want to sit around every day full of anxiety just because some tract in my head doesn't realize I'm gorgeous and damn smart too. I mean, geez - one whole B in my undergrad. career - none up til then... If I can't handle something, i'm smart enough to at least be able to forgive myself. Seems like, anyway.
But that also gives me an idea for a 2 voice poem... and reminds me of a poem my team and I had published in Western's Undergrad. poetry book (back in the good ole days when I had the kind of power to give someone a small dream or take it away) called Shadow Boxing with Myself. I may need to go take a look at it again today. But for now, a quick sketch.
The room is warm and cheery. A play of voices mingle together, rising and falling to the pace of a drawling country love song. A fire dances seductively off in a corner by itself. Most of the people in the room pay scant attention to it, grateful for it's warmth, but in a lighter and less passionate mood. They sit on worn blue couches that have seen better days, and they laugh. Oh do they laugh. They laugh about the weather, with it's notorious ups and downs. They laugh about current events and whatever else in this world usually causes frowns. Finally, they laugh for pure joy and the simple happiness of being together in one room on worn blue couches courted by a flirtatious fire.
And then there's me. I'm chatting gaily in the kitchen, throwing together some easy (or more likely store bought) snacks. I move with the light step of a woman who's relatively unburdened and assured of the idea that it will be this way for at least some time. I have a sense of confidence in myself and my whit that has taken years to build. When I go into the room with the fireplace, I place the food on a coffee table and sit on the floor near the fire. I listen for a time, and then join a nearby conversation. It's easy joining this flow of words, even as the quality of the buzz and the intellectual level changes. We now discuss a book, the depth (and lack there of) of the characters and the themes. The effectiveness of a written pulse of words in changing the cadence of our own is subtle, but a few of us notice and smile. We are no longer the slow moving tone of a country lad, but instead the hum of a university that never sleeps.
Overall, my mood's been better this week (once I get home - school's a different story, but I'm going to ignore that story today because I don't have to go). My doc has me working on self-esteem... which is remarkably hard to fix, btw. Lord help you if you feel bad about yourself. It's some kind of endless cycle, even when you're trying to fix it. ah, and there's my friend my own head now... you can't fix yourself anyway, you're not good enough. well ha, I'll show you. It's too much a life and death issue now for my better half to just give up. I don't want to sit around every day full of anxiety just because some tract in my head doesn't realize I'm gorgeous and damn smart too. I mean, geez - one whole B in my undergrad. career - none up til then... If I can't handle something, i'm smart enough to at least be able to forgive myself. Seems like, anyway.
But that also gives me an idea for a 2 voice poem... and reminds me of a poem my team and I had published in Western's Undergrad. poetry book (back in the good ole days when I had the kind of power to give someone a small dream or take it away) called Shadow Boxing with Myself. I may need to go take a look at it again today. But for now, a quick sketch.
The room is warm and cheery. A play of voices mingle together, rising and falling to the pace of a drawling country love song. A fire dances seductively off in a corner by itself. Most of the people in the room pay scant attention to it, grateful for it's warmth, but in a lighter and less passionate mood. They sit on worn blue couches that have seen better days, and they laugh. Oh do they laugh. They laugh about the weather, with it's notorious ups and downs. They laugh about current events and whatever else in this world usually causes frowns. Finally, they laugh for pure joy and the simple happiness of being together in one room on worn blue couches courted by a flirtatious fire.
And then there's me. I'm chatting gaily in the kitchen, throwing together some easy (or more likely store bought) snacks. I move with the light step of a woman who's relatively unburdened and assured of the idea that it will be this way for at least some time. I have a sense of confidence in myself and my whit that has taken years to build. When I go into the room with the fireplace, I place the food on a coffee table and sit on the floor near the fire. I listen for a time, and then join a nearby conversation. It's easy joining this flow of words, even as the quality of the buzz and the intellectual level changes. We now discuss a book, the depth (and lack there of) of the characters and the themes. The effectiveness of a written pulse of words in changing the cadence of our own is subtle, but a few of us notice and smile. We are no longer the slow moving tone of a country lad, but instead the hum of a university that never sleeps.