macaulay culkin

I'm going on my third night alone. Normally I love having the apartment to myself (loud music and messes in the kitchen), but I'm starting to get real lonely. And jittery. So I guess I'll blog so I feel like I'm talking to someone.

Can I say I have a sincere desire to journal when it so rarely occurs? That's what this thing called a blog has become. You may not understand what I'm saying, but I'll remember what I was talking about.

Yet, since I'm such a nostalgic individual, I've been mourning physical print over the last few days. Probably since I've had to go searching through my e-mail (years back even) looking for things I need/wanted to revisit. And my entire life is in there. There are notes made completely from emoticons, links to youtube videos "that make me think of you", drawings, lists of summer plans, and just communication between those closest to me. I know I can't print it all off and...it wouldn't be the same on print anyway...but I want my kiddos to see some of this stuff. Think that will be possible? Someday, instead of handing them the key to my journal or chest of love notes, I'll write out my password and say, "Go hog wild kiddos. There's over 7577 MB of Ellen in there. Explore my secrets. Relive my past. Read my life and know me."

dear sir

From client:


I tried replying again to your email Ellen and not working, do you know how unprofessional that is??? So irritating!
USE SAME FONT AS MY CURRENT EMAIL SIGNATURE.


The response I wish I could send:


Do you know how unprofessional multiple ??s and caps are? And excuse me that everyone else has has no problems e-mailing me back. And dude. I got the e-mail. Something must have worked.




Will someone please impregnate me so I can stay at home and teach my children not to behave like the majority of my clients? Aka, like babies.

hamMOCK

I don't want this blog to just be e-mails I copy and paste but I got the best e-mail ever today.

"Spain is beautiful, today we drove by many rolling hills with incredibly green and beautiful grass, one thought kept on running through my mind."

That one thought was summer in a hammock in Provo. You'll be able to find the three of us snuggled every night on the corner of 7th and 8th.

femme

Courtesy: tumblinfeminist

bailar

Well, after an hour of zumba, a 4-mile run, and falling flat on my face, my appetite is back.....says the girl straight-spooning Extreme Moose Tracks with a ice pack on her bruised chin.

I have a lot more to say on the zumba class, where the instructor slapped which leg to move next and didn't vocally instruct because she didn't have time to speak both English and Spanish, but frankly, I'm exhausted. And the ice cream is already gone.

Adios.

i follow @nybooks

The complexity of our conflicting desires, emotions, and thoughts fascinates me. Unlike this poem, I know there is joy in the eternities. But I still haven't mastered my fear.

 

In short, I dug this poem. 

Evening

Rainer Maria Rilke

 

The sky puts on the darkening blue coat
held for it by a row of ancient trees;
you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight,
one journeying to heaven, one that falls;

and leave you, not at home in either one,
not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses,
not calling to eternity with the passion
of what becomes a star each night, and rises;

and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel)
your life, with its immensity and fear,
so that, now bounded, now immeasurable,
it is alternately stone in you and star.

"delight" is the word best used to describe my life.

I'm currently enjoying the last bit of a big quart bottle of Bolthouse Farms fruit smoothie. I kid you not, for the last four days, I've survived on fruit juice, bananas, pie, cottage cheese & tomatoes & salsa, and a midnight pizza with Sarah. Oh and delicious Martha Stewart bridal shower cookies.  I don't know where my appetite has disappeared to but hey, at least it's healthy stuff, right?
However, I just gotta say, I have spoken with more people I love in the last four days that I have in the last four months. And it's been absolutely delightful.  Especially today, where I went from a blanket in the park with Sarah, to gardens, to a door opening to an old brother-friend, to Adam, ever the sharer of goodness.

A love map of my destinations and joy on this sunny Sunday:

Madre: I'm so glad that the colors for the wedding are very "in" at Anthro.

Sarah: Even a mere thirty minutes on a blanket at the park was a glimpse of what the summer is going to hold.

Jay: Gardens! We went carefully over each planned plot of his square-foot garden and smelled handfuls of  soil. Earthy goodness.

Jeff: Wasn't expecting your face when I knocked at the door but nothing could beat our kitchen table chat. 'Cept I'm kind of heartbroken that your gap is gone. It was so endearing.

Adam: "Can you stay another 7 minutes?...Can you stay another 25 minutes?" It's such a delight how Adam shares the things he loves. Especially when he takes the 15 minute route in the car so we can listen to the whole song. And laugh in pleasure ("Ah! He just did that! Amazing!") at all the best parts.

Joe & Grace: Words cannot even describe how excited I am about this union.


Postscript: Just opened another quart juice bottle and made it halfway through while typing. This has quite possibly become a juice addiction.

Postscript 2: Thank you. And believe me, it's true what they say about humility. It does allow you see better the beauty that's all around you. There is hope smiling brightly.

down home

First off: two e-mails saved my life this morning. One was a notification from Facebook (HB: I printed off your message for my journal. Love.) and the other was this list, which was so delightful that I just laughed because there are good and lovely people in this world and I'm lucky they're letting me take part.

everything i ate from the time i woke up 'till the time i went to sleep (by SJW)

Half a large Papa John's pizza

2 rolls from Texas Roadhouse

Half a half gallon of chocolate milk 

2 muffins

A fish

A salad

Subway sandwich

5 Subway cookies

Apple

Large bag of almond m&m's 

Assorted breakfast fruit

Bowl of honey nut cheerios 

Banana 

Entire jumbo bag of cheetos 

Some carrots 

3 can's Coke 

how is that for 389?

-----

Oh, and...Hanging out with SJW has made me appreciate my Midwestern roots more than I ever thought I would. Yes, we are planning a roadtrip back to our homeland and yes, I will be making these in the near future.

two things

1.) Say what you will about Belmont (I'll probably agree), nothing beats rounding the corner at 7th and Seven Peaks Blvd and seeing the mountains rise over the budding lane of trees. Beautiful.

Knowing my run is almost over is nice too.

2.) My door and windows were wide open and I was enjoying the fresh air. ... But I had to close them so I could blare a Bieber song that's been in my head all day. Yep...too embarrassed to share my joy with the world.

Eenie Meenie.

national library week, take 2

Courtesy: A Softer World

my heart's joy

There was a gaggle of girls piled on our couches last Sunday. And I loved it. But that's a broader story. Here's the important part: At one point in the afternoon, I turned to Carolyn and said, "I've decided I want to start keeping my nails short."

This morning, I looked down at my nails, recalled this statement and broke out in laughter at the implications of it all. Let's just say, the implications were massive. I hadn't even realized what I'd been saying---but what I meant was, "Hey, I've decided to accept a little (a lot of) humility and discard my pride."

I'm anxious, stressed, nauseous and worried about my future (which includes a third interview next Tuesday with the curriculum department of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints), but still...my life is so filled with laughter and love because of that gaggle of girlies. I echo Elder Cook's words and say, "Women! You are INCREDIBLE."

national library week

If you lived in Indiana, you could have gone to the Fremont Public Library for cupcakes yesterday.

Alas, you do not.

Currently checked out on my card:
Once Upon a Marigold - Jean Ferris (confession: this is my 3rd time reading this book. It fills me with delight)
Alas, Babylon - Pat Frank
Bagombo Snuff Box - Kurt Vonnegut
Bluebeard - Kurt Vonnegut
The Soul of a New Machine - Tracy Kidder

(Audio Books. I commute.)
Mansfield Park - Jane Austen 
Tinkers - Paul Harding
Digging to America - Anne Tyler

I mostly love that I go to bed at 10 and wake up at 5:30. . . . Alright, alright, I'm not overjoyed about the 5:30 but C* and S* make up for it. And being able to run without dying has felt incredible. This Saturday, C* ran her first official 5K and dominated-- we placed 6th and 7th for the women (I won't say out of how many. ha). Then S* and I battled the pellet-snow for 9 miles. "We're tough." All in all, my body is happy with the treatment it's receiving.

But my mind misses these late nights. Sure I'll regret it tomorrow, but C*'s birthday cake had to be made! And what better time to bake than the witching hour?

Tomorrow will hopefully bring the phone call I've been anxiously awaiting since Friday AM. Every time my phone buzzes on my desk, I jolt and snatch it up. So far, no dice. This call is going to help me determine where to go and what to be. I sure hope it keeps me here.  I'm not done with you yet Utah.

8th East

Blog:

I'll have you know that I started at least 10 posts today. Then I took a walk down a road in the dark and spoke every word under my breath and decided that the wind was my best listener.

I'll need you again another day. I promise.

burning

You find your self in unexpected places, clicking links on the Internet. This morning, I read pain. I can see you in two of my own memories: leaning against my counter in the summer and then, months later, chatting with me about jeans and coveting Anthro and J. Crew.  Oh and a third-- pure happiness in singing, all nervousness gone. What I read from you this morning was pure hurt and agony and I sat, mourning. Mourning to the point that I walked swiftly to the restroom, said a prayer of gratitude that it was empty, and cried.

In an instruction list on “how to be a great blogger,” it said to share yourself. To be open and personal with your readers. Even though no one reads this silly ‘ol thing, I can’t (fine, won’t) be that publicly vulnerable. I admired your honesty and wonder if it was therapeutic and helped...or if it hurt worse because the response desired was never received. I won’t know, because you won’t know I read your thoughts and who am I to assume I can reach into your life, to pull even more from your heart. The only thing I wish you knew is that my heart mourned with yours for a moment, and mourned with every cliche-- aching heart; burning eyes; cold, grasping, anxious hands.