2006-03-09
rendevous
A latest favourite joke:
>>>What did the zen master say to the hot dog vender?
<<<"Make me one with everything."
The fact that it's Ben's joke makes me like it more.
The night before last, I had an unsettling dream. My brother died in a car accident. Something made me feel like alcohol was involved. I went to a place that was to represent Bozeman to lament. Julia was so sad. I was there, walking around, and I would be fine for a few moments, then this extreme anguish would wash over me, pain inside so intense that I would literally (which perhaps is the wrong adjective, considering that this is a dream) crouch. It was almost as if I would forget the loss of him for a few moments, then it would sweep back over me as a reminder, that he was dead. I was unbareably sad, so much so that it still hurts a bit inside.
I love Edward so, so much. Strange how in dreams, my emotions are always vibrantly poignant, moreso than the actual content of the dream itself.
I had an interview with a janitor today to ask him about mysterious doors in our school; I'm writing a story about it for journalism. Afterward, Profe Baca asked how it went. I told her it was nice, but he was a bit laconic. She responded by saying, "Of course! He's Scandanavian. They are all grumpy because they do not get much sun; it is so cloudy in Norway, as opposed to the Latinos, who are always happy and celebrating." I liked how she put it. You should see her explain these things. She has good gestures.
Petie says West Valley had an approved development. I need to read the article. That's what I forgot to look up at the library, amidst checking out Sophie's World and Persuasion (Jane Austen's last; I wish to be further enamored I guess).
I haven't been back for a while, but in classic Lisa style, I will always remember the beauty of it. The sky there was deeply and lucidly black, a marvelous backdrop for the stars that twinkled as they reflected my eyes, shiny with adoration. The brilliance will soon be polluted by the house lights kept on by the loud neighborhoods, obscuring the vibrant constellations above and corrupting the serene and thrilling silence.
She said that Clark Drive is the boundary. Clark Drive, for me, was always the center and deep core of a fantasy that I had lived. It was a solace-filled place in the middle of deep love that was absent from the rest of life. Soon, it will instead be the edge of reality- the reality of paved roads and thumping car stereoes and lawnmowers and people returning from work and opening their electrical garage doors and then going inside as the dogs bark.
The place where I fell in love will soon be littered with cheap houses, where people can sit and watch tv, their couches upon floors upon foundations that stifle the ground that once possessed wonderful grass that would sway in the wind, free to the liberty of the whispy breezes.
Perhaps I exaggerate in my profundity. But it ultimately just makes me sad. I love West Valley and all it means to me. By logic, when things develop, they change. I am okay with development, in most cases. It's how I get through, myself.
But I don't want West Valley to change. I want it to remain the place where I fell into my first love during a wondrous thunderstorm, with that peculiar scent of mint and cows, where the car driving on the road churns up a lovely dust behind it and the sun drips slowly and lusciously beyond the mountains and you can walk and talk forever, where he can chase you through the corn fields, so earnest to catch you. Before I slip into complete nostalgia here, let's us once again offer a dismayed "hrm" and sigh.
I met the most facetious man at work yesterday. He was incredible. He sits at the bistro every day, reading and drinking coffee. He is over sixty, but still nice to look at with bright eyes and complimenting eyebrows. He is an artist, he sculpts bronze statues for millions of dollars.
His latest project is a bronze moose that he was comissioned to create for a resort in Colorado. The moose is one-and-one-half times real size and its name is "Rendevous." He showed me a large picture of the moose being assembled.
The way he talks, he inherently makes you feel stupid. "See, those are life-size people, and as you can see, they are standing next to it, and they look considerably smaller." His tone is only lightly sarcastic; he is serious and patronizing and pleasant. It is an awesome combination! I do not ordinarily like it when people make me feel stupid and young, but he makes it rather enjoyable. He spoke to me like that all night. "Now I have to leave and go to The Summit. Do you know where The Summit is? It's up there. You do?" I am a child to him, but one that is at least conversable. I hope I can talk to him more in the future.
Speaking of "Rendevous," I am really excited about my anticipated meeting with my prom date. I honestly can't think of a better person to go with- the "me" from all ages of knowing him would approve of this, and that certainly can't be said for everyone. I go pick out a dress tomorrow. Talked to Mattie. She's sincerely stoked, reminded me of first Spree and said this will be like completing a circle. Extremely excited to boogey with Lizz. Must get Kristine to go. "Candyland" is the theme. Yum. Should make him a boutinniere out of skittles.
Should bead more, too.
Learning of the next choir concert, I now better understand what I myself was referring to at the beginning of this entry. Cool.
At Urgent Care today during my mentorship, a girl came in who was like completely catatonic. She told the physician that she was on like three antidepressants. She had very low blood pressure, and seeing her move around was the lathargic-ist thing I have ever witnessed. He told me later that she was acting like she was stoned or something, even though she denied drug used.
It made me think about her life and be entirely grateful that I am an active, functioning, human being. I really want to appreciate who I am some more, I think that will help me for where I am in my life right now. I just wish I could share it more with others. That will come with time.
Willamette is offering $12,000/yr. We'll see.
The bare tree looked so beautiful today during calculus.
This is an awesome website that I encourage you to check out.
Oh no, I've lost any sense of coherence. That must be a sign that it is time to go elsewhere.
Having said that, I remind you to praise the nature that surrounds you, for it deserves your commendation. Farewell!
leesah-likes at 7:20 p.m.