d&c blog number ... it's been awhile

the last couple of weeks, we've been doing out of class things. cool things.

we went to the art museum. I have a hard time with authorities talking to/guiding me in museums. sometimes they can have some pretty cool insights that help you better experience the artwork, but most of the time it's just distracting from a personal interaction with the exhibit. there's a new-ish addition to the religious collection, a painting of Christ from the circle of rembrandt (awesome). the lady was bothering me while I was having this incredible experience with this painting. rembrandt supposedly used a semitic jew expatriate to pose for this painting among a series of others, which gives it a more authentic feel. it always cracks me up when western christianity paints this blond-haired blue-eyed Jesus. come on people, he was born in israel, he's a jew. I would rather have a painting that shows me the true humanity of Christ than to have someone who looks more like me so I can relate better. the atonement is the reason Christ can relate to me, not because of the color of his eyes.

we also went to the special collections section of the library for a presentation. a presentation I already went to for my humanities class (cause prof ancell is just awesome like that). I love looking at the illuminated bible manuscripts, they're just exquisite. as if books weren't wonderful enough already, they turn them into works of art, too. I did get to see an original copy of the book of commandments (worth more than a million, if I remember correctly). it was very pocket-sized, literally. I wish they still made pocket books (livre de poche, like the french brand). I think I would have felt much very at home in a convent copying books all the days of my life, with the smell of inks and vellum around me and words under my fingertips day in and day out. actually, I would rather be a chaucer or something, but considering the status of women at the time ... a convent wouldn't be half bad.

disturbances

I've needed to cry for probably the last 4 days but it just. won't. come.

I think I had a mild panic attack on sunday. it was scary. later, I wikipedia-ed it (tada! internet to the rescue) and looking at the triggers and causes, I'm definitely going to place my money on inner ear disturbances. well, it's that or illegal drugs. and you all know how sketch I am when it comes to illegal drugs ... benadryl, advil, the like. actually, we're probably looking at OCD, life transitions, anxious self-talk, and withheld feelings. and inner ear disturbances, bien sur. I'm taking it lightly, I know, but it was scary and I don't want it to happen again. I thought about meditating or pacing or something, but I felt like I should go to the temple. so I went and walked the grounds and what do you know, not five minutes and everything was fine. peace. for awhile anyway.

I just finished the paper from hell. I procrastinated it, but more than that, I just could not start writing it. it was ridiculously painstaking. I don't know what in the world is wrong with me these days. the poetry comes out just fine. I finally finished it today, but the bus was late, so I didn't get to the geography department in time to turn it in ... so it is yet another day late. what's that, three now? oh this is going to be a fun grade.

just found out that my internship for france, les petits freres des pauvres, is no longer covering housing costs. something to do with some new law, whatever, I don't know. all I know is that this is really LAME. I haven't had time to think about what I'm going to do. it would still be a wonderful experience, of course, but I don't think I can pay for it.

I'm going to go catch the bus home now and start the lovely load of homework that is waiting for me.

my spacebar is squeaking
cringe

(semi) weekly internet roundup

sorry for the delay

my life got away from me

the fig-fetcher

(to you)

you sit on my couch
all relaxed and casual
(an act maybe)
just sitting in my living room
as if it was yours.

and your hands --
they rest so delicately
on your knee,
on the back of the couch

and your eyes --
they speak when you speak
and dance when you laugh
and appraise me

and your voice --
it lilts and tumbles gently
over the things you say
(and leave unsaid)
and the rhythm matches the
tilt of your head.

but you sit on my couch
with the weight of empty space
between
that looks and words can penetrate,
but nothing else.

am I smiling too much?
it's the only way I know how to say
how much I wish
you'd come sit next to me.
but I'm afraid my smile seems
rather commonplace
these days
(to you)

what if I said it?
sang it
wrote it
drew it
that you are better
than any dream I've ever had
(except the ones with you in them)

you'd probably raise your eyebrows
and flash a smile
and say something witty
so I couldn't help but laugh
(cry)

but I've already written it down --
I'll sing it to you
(in your sleep)
I'll send you the drawing
(next week)
and if I don't say hi sometimes,
it's only because you caught me
thinking about you.

the davids

I happen to have a strange number of acquaintances named david. I guess it's no surprise, given david was the no. 5 boys name in the country in the decade we were born. but I thought I'd clear up any confusions about the davids, since I mention a couple of them quite a bit and the others make for good stories.

david banks


the david I have known the longest
and probably the coolest and sweetest one.
he writes songs and makes movies
many of which I have participated/starred in
(much to my chagrin. I am a horrible actress)
he is incredibly talented
and so fun to be around.
we like to bash on the culture bubble we live in
and reminisce about all of the memories we had
before we were really good friends.
now we have even more!

david manciati


the david who lives in the french house
and lived in my apartment for most of last semester.
we play babyfoot and share pizzas
and give important advice when we need it.
he is a tactless sweetheart.
sometimes I help him with his italian homework,
which makes me want to learn italian.
the sweater he is wearing here,
it is wool and he shrunk it in the dryer.
and now it is mine.
we went to tucanos. it was good.

david ruse (brent mckay allred)


this kid's more of an acquaintance, really
but he's been coming over lately on different pretexts.
he's oceane's lab partner from last semester
and they give each other a hard time.
his real name is not david - he changed it
on a whim for no real reason (?)
and now the government wants to know why -
but david still seems to fit more than anything else.
he's funny and he long boards, so that's cool.
and he obviously thinks we're cool enough
to hang out with. so that's also cool.

david braudt


this kid thinks he's the coolest david
to ever grace the planet.
he's my TA for physical science
and I really don't get him.
first, he was incredibly mean to me.
now, he goes out of his way to be nice to me.
I have no idea what this means.
but hey, he's being nice.
I don't think I mind. not one bit.
he is rather good-looking.
he has the most beautiful hands.

spring

we had an art party tonight.
I haven't successfully sketched in awhile
so I decided to do this
instead of experiment
with my charcoal
and oil pastels
and watercolors.
maybe tomorrow.

Monday morning wake up knowing that you've got to go to school

well, now that it's mostly resolved, I'm ready to tell you all the story:

for those of you unaware (that's probably just you, huw) I live in an immersion French language dorm. the woman in charge of signing people up and interviewing them, marie-laure, she had me come in for my interview for next fall/winter way in advance, just to get it out of the way early. so I had my interview, was absolutely cleared for next year, and had my admittance form signed. she told me to hang on to it for a long time, though, til she told me to come in and get my contract.

so I sat tight. for a couple months. and then suddenly everybody is signing up online and choosing their bed and everything. so I got online too to pick my bed so me and oceane can stay in the same dorm, but it wouldn't let me. I emailed marie-laure for her to clear me on the computer to sign up, but she called me back and said that she'd come to dinner once and made an announcement that all the old forms were void and they were doing everything online and that the french house was all full now and she'd put me on a waiting list ?!? yeah, cause one random announcement with not everyone there is adequate to void contracts and inform everyone responsibly ...

I kind of just said ok and hung up the phone and gradually got more and more panicked during the subsequent processing time while I was walking to work. I spent the first hour of work freaking out about not being in the french house and not having anywhere to live. I even decided that if I didn't get in, I was just going to go home and work. then oceane came into the lab and got me all riled up and I decided I was going to live in the french house. I had a signed acceptance form that I can't get out of without paying money so why should they be able to get out of it either? I was so pissed off. the organization of the department is so ridiculously incompetent.

that was on friday. I went into the office to try and get it cleared up, but everyone was already gone, so I had to worry the whole weekend. I actually might be better at compartmentalizing my emotions than I ever thought possible. I didn't think about it much. they made the decision today about whether or not there would be a third french girls apartment or not, and they decided to add it, so I'm in!! granted, two floors down from oceane, but that's not going to stay that way. I'll switch with someone. or sleep on oceane's couch every day. I don't care.

and that is the end of my story.

sundays

sundays can be contemplative or blegh.
the blegh ones are just too jam-packed with stuff, with no time to think or feel.
the contemplative ones, there's time to work out things with yourself.
today was rather busy, but contemplative, too.

spent lots of money yesterday, but I don't feel guilty because it's all extra unexpected earnings. the defense department has language level tests for employees, I guess, and they've re-written the tests and need to verify them. so they asked byu for french students to take them and they're paying a lovely $275. which I very much appreciate. as does my summer wardrobe. as do my feet, rocking their new sperry top-siders. so cute. they make me feel like I'm just chilling in coastal maine, and that I am happy with.

you always know when a storm is coming through utah valley. it gets windy - the very best gusty kind - and the pollution haze drifts down over the mountains into the valley (oh joy). and of course, when I say storm, I really mean like a drizzle. man, I love virginia's storms in the summer. they are incredibly awesome. summer rains are the best kind.

I don't know why I'm such a man-hater. I've never really been hurt. I've always been the one who moves on. I guess it's just cause they're mean and stupid and annoying. most of them anyway. feel free to justify yourself in the comments, but it's gonna take a lot to change my mind.

I am so random these days.

I love:

belle and sebastian
chirping in the morning
clementine oranges
watercolors
beautiful hands
rolled sleeves and forearms
curly hair
orange sherbet
dance freakouts
statues
juxtaposition of color in nature
old trees
polaroids
feet in the grass
"perfect" in homework margins
subtle flattery
airports
chuck taylors
bird babies
freshly shaven legs
films that change you from the core out
hiking in the forest
playing in streams
dryer sheet smell on the wind
dresses
dreams
driving
getting good mail
practicing handwriting
singing at the top of my lungs from the bottom of my heart up my throat in your ears down to the pit of your stomach

words are like the echos of things

mostly dead sleepyhead

I cannot stop listening to the juno soundtrack. when I walk around in this breath-takingly beautiful weather listening to it on my ipod, I can't help but feel like it's the soundtrack to my life, even though my life is nothing like that. there's just something that happens when the music matches the beat of your heart and the spring in your step and the positive energy you're shooting into the universe that's getting shot back at you and being absorbed through the skin on your face and your fingertips.

today I wore oceane's vintage ring with my two vintage rings. I like the look quite a bit. especially the fact that I'm wearing her ring on my thumb. it feels so right there. I'd like to have a ring there all the time.

I climbed into bed at 8pm to take a thirty minute nap and didn't get up until midnight. and I wasn't even that tired. I got 8 hours of sleep last night. you'd think that'd be enough.
my dreams are vaguely drifting back to me:
someone died. as usual. I wore a long flowing dress with a deep plunge front that my mother thought was too deep. I was carrying around a carved wooden african figure that I realized later that I'd just picked up without paying for it. I was walking arm in arm with oceane on the sidewalk and a car pulls up with boys in it who want us to come with them. I glance at the shirtless flaunting boy in the front passenger seat as I say no. he is incredulous that anyone could resist the gloriousness that is his body. I resist the strong temptation to give him the bird. we keep walking. they follow. we go off on this dusty dirt path down a hill. they follow. there's something about a zoo. the end.

I was supposed to read a book on theatre theory tonight, in french. but I fell asleep. debating whether I should stay up and actually read my text for once or give in and go back to sleep. you'd think going to university I'd be a little more capable of actually going to university. you'd think. there are some things that just sound better the french way, like going to university, rather than going to college. it's probably the french connotation of the cognate that makes going to college sound like going to middle school and going to university like, well, going to university. even if most of the time I'm probably acting like a middle schooler, it's nicer to pretend to be acting my age.

middle school: a cog in the mechanism of the man, not allowed to chew gum or wear flipflops or do what I want during the lunch hour, where sometimes many circumstances come together in a useful way and I actually learn something. retrospectively appreciating, once again, mr. nolan and his bizarro friendship, inspiration and teaching, how he didn't want kids, his ugly red aztec that I always made fun of, my nickname of hey you, how he probably knew how much I loved jimmy nelson, and that one moment when he finished his speech and I realized he was talking about me and he was choked up and I was getting up and there I was on stage being awarded, the 5 foot 1 mm I was, that moment of completeness when things were transmitted by eyes and smile and handshake. because we were on a stage. and how could we have said it anyway? even if we were just standing in the hallway.

there's just some people that, for some reason or another, you never forget. and you wonder if sometimes they ever remember you, are ever silently grateful for that little while that we had the chance to know each other.

well neither am I

my last song to jenny - the avett brothers

Oh tell me please
that I don't have to read
between the lines
Hey this is me
and you don't have to keep
something heavy on your mind
Did you sleep?
Not a wink
Well neither did I

I've never been
too good at readin' in
between the lines
So babe spell it out
but you don't have to shout
when you're talking to me
Do you care?
Do you care?
Are you there?
Well neither am I

Don't lock your door
everyone is poor
between the lines
And I could never steal
the sadness that you feel
when you're changing your mind
Oh my dear
Can you hear?
Well neither can I

I want to live
and I want you to live
happy and free
But I don't know how
to separate the now
from what used to be
Will you sleep?
Not a wink
Well neither will I

close call

oh dear. so me and oceane were driving to target in one of her family's cars. and the brakes were freaking out. I wasn't even driving and I could feel the brakes being crazy. and then suddenly they stopped working. we swerved into the luckily empty left turn lane and the brakes started working again?? so we stopped at the intersection and turned into this smallish side road, going slow-ish and we start coming up to this light and the brakes are shot again, we can't stop, cars are crossing and I scream at oceane to turn right. if not, we wouldn't have gone straight into two cars. so we swerve like none other to the right, but this white car is crossing the intersection and we're both going into the single lane and the car couldn't swerve cause another car was in the other lane ... we were seriously less than inches away from oceane being smashed into by another car. it was so freaking scary. slow motion craziness watching the cars get closer and closer together. but we barely missed. just barely. oceane said later that she was so zoned out trying to steer the car and not die that she didn't at all register the fact that I was up against my car door screaming "holy shit!!" at the top of my lungs. I kind of wish I had a video of that. I'm still kind of shaky, but it's a little funny in retrospect, considering we didn't die. and that is the end of my story.

wing to wing

internet, would you like to tell me what is going on with this "macaron" fettish? and why can no one spell that right? it's a cookie. called a macaroon. and I know you all like to pretend you're cultured and hoity-toity saying it the french way but let's face it - how many of you really speak french? how many of you even cared about the deliciousness of a macaroon before it started cropping up on all of your favorite blogs?

I had dreams a couple nights ago. I even went over them in my head after I woke up so that I wouldn't forget, but I didn't write it down, so now it's mostly gone. all I've got is that there was a huge train/bus thing on this bridge that I diverted so a bunch of people wouldn't die but then the path I made it go on made it run over someone else important to me. I was hurt, but all that mattered was that that person was gone. later I was coming out of the grocery store and there was this group of people going in and as I was passing, I turned and looked and pedro and tabish were in the group and they turned and saw me too. they came over and hugged and talked and came with us (whoever I was doing the shopping with) to fix dinner. in the parking lot, I told tabish how I missed them and wished I saw them more and he said offhandedly that he doesn't ever think of me. it was sad.

"be kind - for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle"

"there are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom."

this week's

weekly internet roundup
do enjoy:

I want a cow please

til next saturday then

*weheartit provides loveliness yet again

epargne-moi

my pinkie fingers look like baby carrots
my feet don't touch the floor in this chair I'm sitting in

I know the things I need to change
(stop being so damn lazy
eat healthier go running meditate
read my textbooks
actually study stop coasting
drink in this experience
sleep wake up repeat)
but I don't know where to start
do I have the self-discipline to do this?

I'm trying to get new jobs for the fall/winter semesters
they would be so wonderful
so much one billion times better than what I'm doing now
1) French student instructor (teach entry level french classes)
2) English writing fellow (tutor ickle firsties in writing skills & paper editing)
I hope so much that these things happen

I am actually going to france
in about a month and a half
it's coming so quickly and
I can't believe how incredible it's going to be
I am so ready for this
I can't wait for my ears to be surrounded by french
real french
not returned-missionary/I'm so full of crap french
epargne-moi

my chest cavity doesn't feel invaded anymore.
I feel very much like me.
it scares me a little.
I'm not sure that anything can be done about it.
or if I want anything to be done about it.
that's the problem.

d&c blog seven

today in doctrine and covenants, we talked a lot about symbolism. it was pretty cool to see a lot of religious symbols that come from a common source of religious tradition. like dr. holzapfel said, anyone coming from a religious background sitting through the temple ceremony would see similarities in their own worship ceremonies and traditions. but of course, the main derivation of the temple ceremony is from old testament temple worship.

I feel like this class is going to be the best class I take in all my four years at university. there's so much energy in class because we're getting so much knowledge and my brain is just yelling at me "epiphany! epiphany!" about every ten minutes. and every time I walk out the door and shake dr. holzapfel's hand I try to put as much emphatic 'thank you' as I can into that handshake. after our discussion about polygamy last week, I was just completely blown away by the power and truth of the doctrine he was teaching us. I felt about a billion times better about life. I called my mom and told her about everything I learned and I just felt so incredibly blessed to 1) live in a country with religious freedom 2) be born into a family where I was taught religious truth all my life 3) have the opportunity to go to this university 4) have the incredible opportunity to take this class from this professor and learn these incredible things. do you realize how many derivatives we've got going on here? as my dad would say, I am at the pinnacle of blessings in this world, and this class has really opened my eyes to that. I am so grateful for the truth that I have. so grateful.

int'l women's day

happy international women's day, mes soeurs.

"All of us – men and women, soldiers and peacekeepers, citizens and leaders – have a responsibility to help end violence against women. States must honour their commitments to prevent violence, bring perpetrators to justice and provide redress to victims. And each of us must speak out in our families, workplaces and communities, so that acts of violence against women cease."

Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon

I salute you all in your loveliness, courage and strength.
I pray for you.
keep fighting.
change will come.
and if it doesn't,
we're better because of the fight.

premiere ...

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aka va weekly internet round-up.

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chameleonized

I wish I were a very old woman. someone who has seen her share of joy and sorrow, adventure and commonplace wonder. someone who looks ahead to more sorrow, but with the experience and hopefully the wisdom and peace to temper it.

today I could be 90 years old and I would be satisfied.

sure, you say. everyone feels not their own age. but do you ever feel like you're in the wrong place, too?

I used to feel like I belonged in another time and place, but it seems I'm getting used to here, or at least feigning comfort. I act like I belong, but that's all it is, an act. chameleonized. I wonder, if I pretend enough, will I begin to blend? and end up neither here nor there, a phantom in your midst.

I don't even think I'm at home in my own self. like if I look far enough inside I'll find an understanding and a wisdom that comes from a place I'm completely unaware of, that came from someone both before and after me.

you know how writers describe characters who look young but are actually really old? or reincarnated or reformed or something? they look young but their mind and their eyes tell otherwise. on the inside of me, it feels that way.

there's more I have to say
so much more
but I disappeared

peter lombardy guthrie the third

I'm sick.

I'm a very monotone sickling. no matter how sick (or not) I get, I pretty much veg out the same way. if I feel at all sick, I complain. but if I get any sicker, the complaining doesn't get any worse.

claire and jesse came up to provo for the weekend so jesse could participate in a graduate student aesthetics in writing conference. I chilled with them for most of the afternoon and got to hear jesse read some of his own poetry for the first time. I've been bugging both of them to send me some of his stuff for months now. it was wonderful to hear his poetry. I am impressed. and I love to hear him read it too, he has a good poetry voice. not pretentious at all.

I went to the byu ballet with oceane tonight. it was west side story and romeo & juliet. west side story was fun, but frankly, I wasn't much impressed. the dancers who played romeo and juliet, on the other hand, were incredible. it was just ... beautiful. I could feel the emotion. I've seen better technical work, but not much better soul.

I love the name beatrice in italian. it is such the best.
just like peter lombardy guthrie the third.

I am not much accustomed to fear. I am also not much accustomed to taking things as they come. the fact that I'm doing both is disconcerting, to say the least. I'm not sure what to do about it other than think about it constantly. and wish God would stop trusting me so much and just be explicit.

I wish I had time to write poetry every day.

I wish I had a hundred lifetimes to be everything I've ever wanted to be.
or maybe just one lifetime as a tree. I imagine it would be just as satisfying.

instinctive poetry

a tribute to a most awesome kid
named david
and the note I wrote
that turned out to be a poem
quite unconsciously

david, you're great!

david
i haven't heard from you in awhile :(
i hope you're doing alright
i hope you're not killing yourself with the webseries
i hope you will call me whenever you need to
rant or unwind or chill or sing or otherwise help yourself
by helping me because whenever you hang out with me
i feel wonderful because you are wonderful
and i want to keep being your friend
much love ♥
christina

you've already read it, I know, but I still mean it.

photoshop is a beast

I like photoshop, I really do.
it just happens to be punching me in the teeth at the moment.

I took a photoshop 2 class for mandatory training for work and I've been working on the competency project. it's really not that difficult, but the program only operates on the citrix server on the campus computers, which is so annoying to work on. and I don't have photoshop on my computer. I really ought to get it I think. so I've been working on this project on campus. well, I worked on it for almost 2 hours yesterday and when I was working on a text gradient, the program froze and suddenly closed itself and left me project-less. it was incredibly depressing.

hence my angry twitters of yesterday.

so I got a one-day extension and missed dinner to stay on campus tonight and do it again. well, I spent another 2 hours doing it, saved it multiple times, and the stupid server ate it. did I save it to the wrong place? was 6 times not enough? I don't know. but I had to do it a third time.

hence my angry twitters of today.

at least it only took me 45 minutes by the end. so I got a lot of photoshop practice. and wasted many hours of my life on something that should not have taken that long. well, I guess I'd better post it now so you can all mock me for spending so much time on this dumb project. owp wait no I can't even do that because it's saved in the wrong format. lucky you.

CURSE YOU PHOTOSHOP!!!

d&c blog #6

I'm kind of a feminist I suppose. I actually just checked out a ton of books from the library on feminism because I feel like I really ought to know more about it. I've just discovered the movement of ecofeminism and I think I will like it very much. that said, growing up in the D.C. area, I've always noticed the prevalence of phallic symbolism in monuments and stuff, like the Masonic temple and the Washington monument.



I've been noticing a similar prevalence in church memorials. because my family vacations in vermont, I've been to Joseph Smith's birthplace a couple of times, which includes an impressive granite obelisk. I just learned at the church history symposium that similar obelisks were built in memorial for Hyrum Smith and John Taylor.


I guess I'd always imagined it to be a rather undesirable hold-over of the male-dominated western society we've inherited. which is really a male-dominated world history, since phallic symbolism existed thousands of years before Christ's birth. what I didn't realize was that this was not necessarily an all-bad symbol. as we were reading in class about the institution of the temple ordinances in nauvoo and the prophet Joseph Smith's preparation of the people in the days before its institution, we were looking at some of the symbols in the facsimiles of the book of abraham. let's take a look:

number 7 is upside down, but using your wonderful brain capacities, imagine it turned around. the figure sitting on the throne has a clear phallic symbol on the back of his head. professor holzapfel said that the phallic symbol here represents eternal seed. the figure on the throne is God and, being an exalted and celestial diety, God has the right to eternal procreation, which is a blessing companion with exaltation. suddenly, it all makes sense. though I wouldn't mind a feminine symbol of eternal fertility, our religion is patriarchal, organized through God's priesthood authority, and referring here to abraham's promised seed, so I guess I can handle it.