living with depression and all that comes with it...

Things that go bump in the night go bump in the day;

the difference so little that time slips away

-- exhaustion.

when I went for a run because I could...

Some storms begin with a small drop of water falling from the sky -- a slow sparkling crystal descending from the clouds to land with a slight splattering spread on the pavement. A storm that appears gradually, misting the earth and blocking the sun with its fog.

But this storm began without shining crystals or pavement drops bleeding into one another to create a single shining slate of asphalt. This storm began in her heart.

She felt it before she heard it. A cold, hard stinging inside her chest; a sharp, tight pulsing in her brain.

It's going to rain.

Down from the sky-- barrage of hammers on the rooftop --
down from the clouds -- volley of bullets against the walls!

Down,
down,
down
down!

Out, out, out -- out into the rain.

Running...running. Bare feet against the pavement.
Running...running. Hair plastered to her cheeks.
Running...running. Clothes clinging as though naked.
Running...running. Skin screaming with the sting.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Repeating
in her mind, racing through the storm. Racing through the storm running from the rain through the rain to the rain
the rain the rain the rain

The rain.

Cold, biting, stinging rain -- rain that is alive.
Cold, biting, stinging rain.
Cold. Biting. Stinging.
Cold. Biting.
Cold.

Cold.


Cold.

She can feel it. Feel. the cold. the bite. the sting.

the life.

Time -- what time? No time -- running. running. raining.

Hair streaming, hands shaking, feet bleeding, lips speaking
words she cannot hear. Stumbling, tumbling, crumbling on the porch
wet
wet
wet
with rain.

The rain.

All she wants is rain.

trees for Christmas...

inspired by Christmas trees -- I love not having homework

chalk the block...

Once upon a weekend, Parker and I went to the grocery store in search of a kite because it was the perfect kind of blustery day.

No kites to be found -- I suppose we should have remembered that most people don't fly kites in October. Instead, we found a box of chalk sticks. At $4.49 for 52 sticks, it wasn't a bad deal. Parker jumped on the idea when I pointed the chalk out, and after making our purchase we headed to the nearby park (by way of the railroad ties that crisscross the town -- dream come true for me, to walk through a town balancing on the railroad tracks).

Object of the game: the first person to take a turn with the chalk draws some random lines, squiggles, circles, whatever they desire. Then the second person looks for a picture in those random lines and "shows it" to the first person by drawing the whole picture.

Let me show you a few of our masterpieces.

Parker is the big man in this town.

Frieda the Elephant and me on the borders of Parker's Gulf of Mexico.

He did a pretty good job on this one -- my favorite of his pieces.

Favorite of the ones I drew.

May I say that this was one of the most fun things I have done this whole semester? Possibly the whole year?

It's very possible that I will be introducing this game to my own neighborhood. I've got a fair amount of smooth asphalt in front of my garage -- time to pretty it up a bit.

fun in the work place...

I have interesting jobs. I work at a party store and a snow shack, and I intern in a prestigious university's writing center. Each job has different requirements, but a lot of the skills that I've learned for each individual job are applicable to all three. The environments, however, are more than a little different.

The writing center has an intellectual, academic, and stiff atmosphere. Some days it almost oozes with elitism. It bothers me, because students who come in for a tutoring session look uncomfortable and many of them can't wait to get out. Not all of the tutors contribute to that feeling -- the few that do are good at it though. As I've observed, I've decided that I will not become a tutor with that elite mindset. I don't even think of myself as a tutor, or students as students. I think of myself as a writer, and the students who come in are writers as well. That levels the playing field and turns the sessions into collaborative efforts, rather than the term tutor becoming a title that gets in the way.

The snow shack is a bit trickier to explain because all shifts are run solo, and it's definitely just a job. I like it most days, but it's mostly cleaning the shack, filling up the flavor bottles, stocking supplies, taking and completing customer orders, and making sure that the other girls stay on top of their work. I've sort of become the unofficial manager of the Orem store...I think it's because I'm the oldest girl working there and I'm the only one who really works at keeping the place running in a clean, orderly fashion. That's sort of fun for me because I get to be in contact with the owner a lot. Natalie is so great.

PartyLand is an entirely different animal. It's fun, it's crazy, it's stressful, it's boring, it's exciting, it's annoying, it's everything all wrapped up into one, giant, eclectic, hodge podge party store. The people are great to work with -- they're some of my closest friends -- the work isn't too hard but it's stimulating, and it's an outlet for creativity. It's the most frustrating and most enjoyable work place. The fun generally outweighs the frustration though.

For example, PartyLand is the only place where I can make themed balloon bouquets like this one:

Yes. This is an Avengers mylar (insert girly squeal of excitement here). But wait. It gets better.

A totally Avengers themed bouquet. Alyssa and I made it a couple of days ago. I'm rather proud of it. I was so happy that Tracy ordered the mylar that I requested. She let me pick it out, too. Can you spot all of the heroes? We fit all six of them into it!

Six super heroes represented in one giant, ridiculously fun, delightful, vengeance-filled bouquet. SO. MUCH. FUN.


Avengers assemble!! Holla!!

forgot to mention...

I forgot!! Last week I had a job interview at the public library, where I volunteered this summer (and hope to start doing again as soon as the concert and choir tour are over). It went...fine. Not as well as I'd hoped, because there were four majorly important adults interviewing me (a couple of whom [who? of who? of whom? whom?] I know and have known me for years, or I found out have known me for years and I didn't know that they did...) and I was terrified. Then some of the questions one of them asked me really threw me off. Not to mention the face she made after I answered. Ugh...it was frightening and really dinged my all ready nonexistent self-confidence. I am just not confident enough to get a job. It's really frustrating.

Anyways, Louise (the one I found out has been watching me for several years) called me today to tell me that they'd chosen a different applicant for the position, BUT...she "was very impressed by your interview and thought you did very well, so I wanted to let you know that several library page positions will be opening up later this week and they'll be posted online. Just in case you're interested."

Um...how can I not be excited about that? Louise is the director of the Human Relations department, the Publicity department, and the Public Events department. She's kind of important, and she liked me!! So that was a definite plus to the day, and kind of to my life.

I have some things to remember when times get tough again. I'm still badgered with depressing thoughts (if depression had innings I'd be at the bottom of the ninth with bases loaded and two outs, coming up to bat with a sledgehammer and a cannon for the pitcher...it's been really bad) but now I have some things to combat them with that are fresh in my mind. I'm crossing my fingers that it will get better. Not to mention I'm somehow having words float around in my head like mad and all I have to do is reach out, grab them, and place them in the correct order on paper.

I'm very confused by all of this. Three weeks of utter darkness and there's suddenly all this light. It's so weird.

you missed...

I received a comment from a friend about creating. I decided to try creating again...I don't know if it's any good, but it helps me wrap my head around what's going on. I'm feeling extremely confused about why I'm so down. It doesn't make sense-I've got so much to be happy about but when I start counting those things, I don't feel better. I actually feel worse. So I decided to try something. I picked two random words from a book. I opened the pages, closed my eyes, and pointed. These are the words I found: "missed" and "you".

With those words, I wrote the first things that came to mind and titled it "You Missed". I don't know if this worked out at all, but I feel better for some reason.

You came to me

late one night,

when the shadows

made pictures on the walls,

creeping along the fence

and hiding from the

touch of the

streetlight.

You came to me

with tears in your voice,

your head hanging,

ashamed to be

feeling the way

that you were.

You asked me for help,

and I gave it.

You came to me

and asked me

to catch you,

to be there when

you were falling.

You asked me

to reach out,

and I did.

Now it’s my turn

to come to you,

when the shadows

creep into my heart

from outside,

leaving their walls

and fences

to darken my mind.

I came to you,

unafraid of

how I felt.

Unashamed,

for I knew

that you’d catch me

as I started

to fall.

And you missed.