July 23, 2006
Bloglines!
I just discovered this program that let's you subscribe to as many blogs as you want just by inputing their address and tells you when they are updated. It's called Bloglines and it's going to make me a better person. This will help me keep up with people like Katie and Rich, Rye-Dawg, Evan and Hope who do not have anything to do with my xanga world. It's not even that I am lazy, it's just that there are over forty blogs I like to keep tabs on, and geez, that's hard!
July 19, 2006
modern day war bride
My oldest friend I've always called Bephy, since Bethany was to hard for my toddler mouth to get around. We've been friends since we were zygotes, literally, our mothers carried us together. This picture sort of capsulates our relationship.
She's always wanted to be an officer in the military, since a large portion of her extended family has served or is serving in the military. She joined the reserves and is currently MP (Military Police).
She volunteered to be deployed and will serve in Iraq this coming September.
Her younger brother Noah (one of three younger brothers, btw) was also in the military and was stationed out in Seattle. She went out to visit him last year for a week and ended up hanging out quite a bit with his infantry Sergeant who pretty much fell for her at first sight. About six months later they were engaged. I was visiting her two days after the engagement took place, around Thanksgiving and we were talking and I notice this large sparkly thing on her ring finger... I think my exact words were "You have a f***ing phone!" She got married a few weeks back, right before her fiance, Michael, was deployed for his second tour of duty in Iraq. They are planning a wedding "proper" for when they get back, but they wanted to make it legal now so they can see each other while they are over there. She's coming up to stay with me this weekend, and we are going to go try and find some suitable bridesmaids dresses. Here are some pictures of them signing their marriage certificate and exchanging vows... how did we get this old?
I keep thinking about this and thinking about WWII war brides and the differences and similarities between then and now... it's funny to me because this is my second friend who has volunteered to serve in Iraq so she can be with her husband, the first being my former roommate Elsbeth. There is something beautifully sad about the whole thing, as well as it being an extremely romantic gesture of loyalty and love. That's the way it's supposed to be. You're not supposed to get married and live separate lives, with separate bank accounts and separate dreams, it's the melding of vision. The beauty of sacrifice. The funny thing is, after my friends get back from war some of the real battles will start, just trying to get through day to day life and stay on the same path. It reminds me of one of my favorite scripture passages. Jeremiah 2:2b "'I remember the devotion of your youth, how as a bride you loved me and followed me through the desert, through a land not sown." God calls us to be devoted to him that way, and to each other.
It's weird because as scared as I am for her going into a war zone and all, I am less scared then I was with my boys, Scott and Jason. The day I found out they were being deployed I cried for hours, alone in my room of course. I remember trying to get myself together in time for math. I think Beph's going to be okay though, I have a different feeling about her going... but I am worried about this weekend, picking out the damn dresses. Our last summer of high school we went to Cedar Point and were arguing while we waited in line for the Millennium Force and she wanted a point to get across to me and she just *POW* punched me in the arm... I don't think that kind of behavior flies in bridal boutiques.
July 16, 2006
Last batch from New York May Term
These are the last of 'em. These are all places I enjoyed being captured in the Met and from the top of the Empire State Building. See the whole album here.
This is the building my maternal grandfather and constructional iron worker, Edward "Smokey" Cross helped build, so yeah, it's in the family.
This is one of several pictures I took of Madison Square and the Flat Iron Building... I dug it.
This is my favorite room in the Met. Meredith and I just sat here staring at the painting on the far wall for a long time. I wrote a short story about the painting. I may share it later. It gripped me.
My favorite hallway in the Met (yes, non flash photography is allowed), it leads to the Modern section and the 19th Century sections. Porthole to bliss.
Yeah, I could go back anytime now. I really loved it there, even if I couldn't LIVE there.
Oh. And about Michael Stipe. When I was at PS1 in Queens we were getting ready to leave and Lynnette and I were discussing what to do next and this short bald man just pushed by me... and then he did it again trying to get a map... and then again... and it was Mr. Stipe and the first thing that entered my mind was "But I am from Chattanooga!" Because he's from Athens, Georgia and I've heard of sightings all the time (Chatty and Athens are somewhat close, in case you didn't gather that). The next thing I thought was "Damn it woman! Stick out your hand and ask if you can just shake his! Tell him you really admire him! Say something!!!" I stopped breathing instead. As soon as we left the building I called Eb to report my sighting, and my failure to say ANYTHING and was justly rebuked. So, there you have it.
July 14, 2006
one pale April evening...
So back in April I spent an evening down at Hillsdale. There was a wedding shower for Anna, a performance by Ryan and some badass poker playing. I also, of course, took pictures. See the rest here.
A man, his bud, twinkle lights, and the Middle East.
Don'tcha just HATE it when that happens! Well, I didn't, granted I had the higher flush.
Good times. Good times.
July 08, 2006
reflections and findings
Hope gave words to something I have been feeling lately but unable to really articulate.
I've been cleaning out every cranny of my past in the sense of physical representation. Learning to put things in trash cans I never thought I would part with, because I am someone else now... or at least someone who values different things.
I found this poem from second semester my freshman year. I wish I could just hug this girl, because I realize now the pain I was in and wish I had let myself feel it at the time. I think I could have stopped some of it from happening.
Last night _____ ripped apart my world.
He wasn't trying to harm me
He was giving me honesty
but was he effective?
my sweetness has curdled
the door closed
his window is bigger
he's farther away
but more real then ever
I know where I stand
but I feel so lost
it's so dark in here
and I am so scared
frustrated by the trying,
ready to open the eyes I have closed
perhaps for too long
perhaps not long enough.
Finding familiars rib cages
in people I never noticed before.
Wondering if I only fall in love with people who happen
to be men.
From men,
the scent of aftershave,
the eyes that linger.
I wonder what makes me a woman.
Is it the biological
or can the adjectives be derived from the functions?
The pain of menstruation,
the hormonal backlog
the delicacy of the "condition"
of the flow of blood.
Things men don't have,
but they can't take the symbolism from me.
It's not the penis that I envy,
it's the nonchalance -
the passivity,
that drives me crazy
because it can't be mine.
I can't not care
about what I do need.
People will always be people.
I will always be myself
and I may never have another half.
Cricket and I shared some poetry the other night... seemed like it was time to let some stuff out of the bag, even if it's not my most recent stuff.