word is...

So this morning as I got ready for work, I couldn't figure out what to wear. I've been rotating the same skirt and same pair of slacks with different tops for the past week. So I wore some random articles of clothing with the skirt and headed to work, preparing to declare "Matching is for wimps!" in case anyone decided to say anything snide to me.

So I got to work, and people kept saying, "You're so dressed up!" One even ventured to go a bit further and say, "You look cute today!" I said, "Really? I feel like I look like I just rolled out of bed and fell into some clothes." The reply was, "Wow, I wish I could roll out of bed and fall into some clothes and look that good."

Me too. Maybe I should do it more often...

In other news, I woke up a couple mornings ago, looked in the mirror at my hair and decided it all had to go.

I also woke up this morning with Stayin' Alive stuck in my head. What a great way to start a Tuesday.

i am drawing the story.

I've been melancholy lately, to put things lightly, euphemistically, to make me sound uncrazy. To say that I've been moody makes it sound like I'm a silly girl with PMS, which is probably the case, but since when has what your hormones make you feel been any less valid than anything else? It's all hormones and chemicals anyway... it's been my firm belief that what I'm feeling is what I'm feeling, PMS or not, so here I am.

Been reading High Fidelity this weekend. How good it feels to roll around in a book that feels like home or something like it. Sure, the main character is self-absorbed and all that, but he speaks truths at crucial, human moments and that is what makes it all worthwhile. He talks about how the right chord change in the right song will melt your heart and send you on the search for the lover (human or otherwise) who will fit that feeling. When I read passages like that, I know whoever is reading the book will now exactly what he's talking about, including me, and I am grateful that finally somebody has put to words exactly what that stirring of the soul means.

Work, thus far, has been a disaster. I think that I may need to learn to compartmentalize. Finally. I've never understood how people could keep parts of their lives so separate from one another, and I still don't. But I need to learn to leave the office at the office and not dwell on it when I badge out for the day. Fuming about how stifling and pointless my tasks at work are when I'm done with work makes me miserable and unpleasant. I realize now that working a "normal" job would steal my soul in the long run... I am a wholly passionate person, and I need to love everything that I do. I think I would be perfectly happy doing anything but a "regular" office job, whether that means being a waitress, a barista, a teacher or most anything else in this great big world.

I'm helping to teach junior youth classes at the Star of the West Baha'i School and just today I noticed how alive I became when I started truly interacting with the students and guiding them toward an understanding of the concepts we were discussing. The act of sharing knowledge is so revitalizing. I'm beginning to see this now.

I went out on Friday night with a few friends...we were celebrating Priscilla's admission to graduate school (if you're reading this, Miss Priss, congrats again!) and I had such a great time. We went to Jimmy'z and danced for a bit... I've forgotten how dancing out my aggression is the best way for me to deal with my turmoil. We eventually happened upon Prago, where we found a packed cafe with STRENGTH playing and it was actually a really fabulous time. I need to have more times like this during the year or I will go crazy.

*sigh* Wish me luck. Please hope that I find the positive in the things that happen to me, that I find patience, compartmentalization skills and humility in the things that I do...

the art of selling out.

i believe it was mark twain who once said, "beware of any endeavor that requires new clothes." when i first heard this, i thought it witty, but had no idea what it really meant. now that i work, basically, in a corporation (despite the fact that it's non-profit), i find myself having to buy new clothes. i also find people telling me that the "capris" i'm wearing are hated by the ceo. at this point, i'm too polite to tell them that my pants are not "capris," but whatever. "capris" can be "professional" too, but we'll ignore that and stifle my personal style for the sake of "professionalism".

obviously, i'm really excited about wearing skirts, nylons and "trousers" all the time for the next year of my life.

corporate america, you will never be graced with my presence.

additionally, i cannot even begin to describe how I heart huckabees/the office/office space i feel on my second day of work (oh, sorry, volunteering). i've had to call 8 pages worth of phone contacts today, and i started to realize that i was sounding like a robot, so i began inflecting my voice in random places and putting emphasis on different syllables with each call... by the end of today, if i heard my own voice say the same 4 sentences again, i would have vomited.

very nice.

who knows where to start.

After a beautiful night of symposium (sans Leah...insert a pout here), I feel refreshed and revived in the intellectual sense. Sitting around and reading and workshopping poetry made me so happy... I glowed a bit inside. I haven't been able to publicly indulge fully in my addiction to poetry for quite awhile, so tonight was something I've been craving subconsciously and needed.

I think symposium helps me gather my wits. I've been a little stressed lately with starting up what will be my life for the next year and with Luz peeing everywhere. I have no clean blankets in my house because she has peed on all of them, including the one I was about to sleep under last night. I also worry that Luz and Pomo will become latchkey kittens, who will grow up to be delinquent, forever climbing my curtains, scratching up my red rainbow couch and peeing everywhere. I've purchased a spray bottle for disciplinary purposes, and I'm slowly growing less apologetic about using it. I first used it to spray Luz away from my Wendy's nuggets and fries and immediately proclaimed how bad I felt about using it. Autumn said, "How will you be a mother?"

And suddenly, I realized that kittens are not plants. I am a mother, in an unconventional sense. And yes, I am overanalyzing the raising of kittens, but it's been a milestone in my understanding of responsibility.

And now I am hungry. Off to make a quesadilla maybe.