for now

well, dear readers (are there any? the world may never know.):

i don't have time to keep this looking recent

or even to try to write anything decent

and my nonsensical ramblings don't matter that much

and i keep touch with friends through email and such



summary:

i'm gone for now. i might come back when i'm not so consumed.

if you require my useless opinions, use the link at left to send me an email.

love and misses
amy

|

a most unexpected discovery.

gray hair.

i thought i had more time.

|

school

i realized yesterday that it's time to go back.

a friend came in my office and was noticing my pile of augustine books. i started telling her about jill robbins, and a class called "literature and the history of ideas." the class should have been called "augustine." i started telling her what an eager student i was. i snatched a book from the shelf and set it down in front of me, grabbed a pen and a pad of paper, and mimicked my old posture. hunched, pen near strangulation and scratching furiously, fingers of the left hand pointing to the pages of the book and occasionally holding the pad. eyes down, then up to the professor; half smile as i heard something completely new to my ears. furious penscratching as i connect what the professor says to the roaring train of thought that's in my head.

i love new ideas.
i love to learn, more than anything else i've ever done.

i miss writing in books, things like:

allegory of use/abuse of language?
vices=perverse imit. of god
??CAUSE OF EVIL
ALL THINGS GOOD!
EVIL DEFINED!
death
grace
Cain - enjoying the vehicle?
good w/o evil NOT evil w/o good
paradise
SATAN
nearer to nothingness
~LOVE~

and, I must have written a paper concerning vanity, and i think pride, because I had a few dog-eared pages with the word vanity scrawled there, as well as small post-its in all the books that said things like:

USE/ENTJ/TURN AWAY
PRIDE
CONVERSION
turn/dark abyss, nothgns (must stand for nothingness)
wickedness
EVIL
turning/wstld (must stand for wasteland)

the only textbooks i didn't sell for cash were the augustine volumes, the norton shakespeare, and the small poetry books from bernstein's class. i even sold the poetry anthologies and the milton book. after all scott stevens did for me, too.

i remember when i was nearing graduation, we were meeting in his office about a paper. he asked me if i'd considered graduate school. i had. but i was secretly petrified to take the GRE. so when he offered to counsel me through an application to harvard, and when he offered to type my application, and when he offered his extreme optimism at the potential of my acceptance, i put him off. i procrastinated.

now three years have passed. and i can't ignore it any longer. last night i bought my GRE test prep book. i took the diagnostic quiz online.

and i have a lot of work to do.

|

props and links

first.
congratulations, Doctor Frankie. well done, my friend.

last.
i've recently stumbled across two websites that i enjoy immensely.

without hope or agenda, i present
delicious days
and
toothpaste for dinner (the "drawings" section provided me with hours of fun).

|

it's like snow on a crowded street. i see everyone else with crisp blacks and grays and i'm not wearing a coat. i don't need one. truthfully, i'm not cold. i like the looks. and there is the white stuff. it's nothing more than a small distraction at this point but every so often it's a bit cold on my skin.

small little pricks of cold.

it's like my heart hanging out here on your line. i see everything you could be to me but i don't want to let go and drop down to your grasp. i like seeing you there. i know you're waiting. and there is the effort of resisting. it's nothing more than being a bit more tired at the end of each day at this point but at least i don't have to let go and hurl myself headlong into your grace.

small little aches and pains.

i'm lying. it's not like any of this.

it's like standing alone in a tunnel.
it's like waiting for the phone to ring on the fifth day.
it's like dreaming your face every night.
it's like being the last one to leave the coffeeshop.
it's like walking home alone when you don't want to.

it's like two hearts. apart.

|

yesterday

i wore more eyeliner than usual.

i finally wore a scarf i've had for three years.

i ate home-cooked filipino food and drank folgers coffee.

i finally tasted see's candy.

i sat on a red couch and listened to guitars, pianos, and voices.

i sang along.

i picked up a guitar for the first time in months.

i took a hula lesson.

i got to meet a les paul.

i felt so much love in my heart that i thought it would burst.

|