Death in the Afternoon
I'm upset. I cant help it and I know I'm going to hear about it in the morning. Yes my bebae's look at the facebook profile, it says moderate up there. Call it growing up. Call it a day spent on my porch reading and thinking, and debating friends...again.
I woke up late today, knowing we didn't have school, I wanted to get in a few hours and remember what it was like to sleep late when things get hectic later this week. It was nice. Sunday night was exhilarating / scary / gorgeous. I thought one thing when I left and came back thinking another, it caught me off guard in the best way. Life's gorgeous and its nice to feel the tingling on your skin of a night spent with amazing people. It was nice to get lost in the moment. I've missed the feeling.
We went out to Panera, discussed things, had good solid relaxing time and went to target, where I played interior designer again and made a mental notes that are going to cripple my next pay check. I want my book cases, its really upsetting my that I cant see my books, so I'm going to get them on Thursday and go hijack dads drill and go to town on some lacquered black wood Friday or Saturday. I desire to see my books. I think its why I haven't felt like this new apartment is home yet, my books are in 30 boxes stacked up against my walls and outside in my hallway. Plus, power tools are just lovely when your angry, and I think this feelings going to stick until I run until I throw up or row until Katrina has to drag me to the jeep for lack of arm and leg movement. I'll get to it, I promise, keep reading. I haven't done a me post in awhile, I miss it. Get over it. I'm being mean, I apologize, please continue reading.
After Target attacked my bank account and I put my plunder in my jeep we walked over to Barnes and Noble. Katrina forgot which way it was and it was hilarious, after living with me for two years you would think she would be acutely aware of where one of three places are: Barnes and Noble, The Art Building, and Hibachi Japan. Anyways, I digress, I went in and got a Fiji water (my favorite) and turned toward fiction. I was intrigued Sunday night by a conversation I had with James and Aaron about Hemingway and E.E. Cummings. I haven't thought about either in years, it was lovely to be around people who were willing and desired to speak on such subjects. I went straight for Ernest. Hes vastly overrated in my opinion, he was a pompous bastard and was acutely aware of how well he wrote. More power to him, as a writer of novels and poetry, its a necessity to have confidence in your writing, but don't ever, ever presume to think that what your writing is better than anyone else. Pull out a copy of Homers The 'Iliad' and get over yourself. However, Ernest did have a passion that lit your ass on fire when you read his books. The descriptions he wrote of Paris' literary society, hes coverage of the Spanish civil war and my absolutely favorite of his works (and in my top ten best writings of all time) 'Death in the Afternoon' is absolutely astounding. I wanted to be a bullfighter the moment I finished it. Its a gorgeous prose on the workings of a sport most people would look at and say 'You have got to be insane'. I sat and read for awhile and remembered the feelings it evoked the first time I read it. I had just gotten completely broken in a relationship and didn't want to eat or sleep, my best friend David from home took me to the beach and made me eat Cajun shrimp so I had energy to go surf and lay out and looked me in the eye and said 'Read it, I'll turn you around, I promise.' He was right and I killed my back getting thrashed and am still absolutely sure I saw a shark. I got lost in the pages and felt the Spanish sun on my face as I read. It was insane, it was the day I turned around and saw a light at the end of the tunnel and made the decision to get up and start those first tentative steps toward a new life. I remembered yesterday sitting there that I was sad before and that my life just gorgeous now. I've since made it out of that tunnel and am now basking in the warm afternoon sunlight that shines on this new phase of my life, and I must say, I'm meeting some absolutely gorgeous people on my way. Many have chosen to stay and walk with me, many have come and gone, but overall, I wouldn't change a thing.
After two hours and $34 later we came home and I went outside to read and doze on the porch, it was a gorgeous day and I wanted to bask in a glow I've been kind of resting in for the last few weeks, its a gorgeous feeling. I chose to read 'Walking the Bible' by Bruce Feiler, Its a book about Biblical archeology written in a gorgeous way, Bruce goes through the first five books of the Bible and goes to the sites where they took place and describes them now and how they would have been then and how it all ties back to the Bible as a historical text. I love it because its a no nonsense approach, devoid of any kind of religious connotations, spirit wise, that tend to cloud actual observations and make everything into a spiritual experiences, and yet, it was a spiritual experience for him. I love reading how he felt, how it related to the text and how the feeling of standing on actual history, ancient history made him feel so connected to the Earth itself. Like a link between man, history and Earth. The powerful feelings evoked by standing on the site where Moses supposedly saw the burning bush, or watching the sunrise on the banks of the Euphrates river. How in tune would that be?! I cant wait to get over there, to Capri and Rome and Israel and to just visit and stand and feel history rising up through my feet and losing myself in it. The wind through my hair, just me, the wind, and the impact that the ancient had on the very land I stand on. Its a powerful feeling I've felt before and is something I long to feel again.
I sat on the porch and read for awhile till I was tired then hung my legs over the side of the dish chair (my favorite) and let the sun warm me into the nice state between sleep and wake where I think best. I thought about life, and how I thought and what I believed. I do this every now and again to reconnect with myself. I usually do it on the eve of a change in my life, like a women's intuition kind of thing, but I love it, its usually just a day where I just let myself go and think. Like soul searching.
David called while I was out there and we got to talking. Got in a debate (surprise, surprise) and I found myself defending myself yet again. I'm a republican and very proud of it, however, more and more I've noticed my view straightening out. I'm not liberal, but I'm not conservative so much either. I enjoy both sides and adore it. I like being where I'm at. Its like I know what I believe, I believe it and think and vote accordingly. This, however, has no consequence on my personal life. I believe in the true ideals of the republican platform, but hate people like Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, who can go live in Canada if they don't like how we're doing things here. Canadians are nice, the rest of the free world wont have them, for good reason, but Canadians would slap them on the back and turn around and finish watching the Maple Leafs game and finish their beer. I believe what I believe and its lining up with the moderate side of things, so debate me, I still believe the same things, just understand I'm not so naive anymore. I'm completely idealistic, too much for my own good, but not so much that I'm going to be avoiding reality.
David cusses. I cuss. Sometimes dropping the F bomb is the only thing that will work. I cuss when I feel like it and I'm sorry if I offend anyone. Its me using a variety of language and enjoying the connotations it pulls up. Its a cultural phenomenon for all of you anthropology majors who know what I'm talking about, and accordingly is absolutely necessary sometimes. I hate, I hate, I HATE when he apologizes. I HATE WHEN HE APOLOGIZES. Like I'm going to get bruised by whatever he says. Hes been around for more of my fantastically severe wipe outs on my board and on the soccer field enough to know that I'm a tough little cookie, he should know that I can handle it. It doesn't bother me. IT DOESN'T BOTHER ME!! Your not going to offend me for cussing or for voice your opinions, I'm not going to judge you, in case you haven't noticed I'm not that ignorant, your going to have to get used to me cussing when appropriate and don't ever, for one second think I'm going to not like you for some reason because of it. For my beautiful readers, this is why I'm upset, you made it, please keep reading and keep and open mind, my dedicated bloggers know I speak my mind no matter what, this is no different. And pardon my french, if you get upset about what I've written thus far, I'm truly sorry to have offended you, but please, get the fuck over it. I'm upset, I'm writing and not running in the dark where I can get mugged and I'm saving those digestive pyrotechnics for a good solid row. I want this to be very VERY clear. I know there are alot of new people that I've met recently who read this on a regular basis now, welcome, I speak my mind. But this needs to be crystal clear, I don't let my religious views, my personal views cloud ANYTHING I think about people. I don't hate Muslims, I really enjoy Islamic history in fact, I don't hate atheist I don't like people who try to force their beliefs on other people. Simple as that. Believe what you want. I'm going to love the light inside of you no matter what. I'm not picky about my friends, take a look , gay, straight, goth, preppy, artist, non artist, business, philosophy, Islam, Jew, Christian, Atheist. I don't care what you believe, I care about who you are. But don't ever, ever make the mistake of thinking that I care a rats ass about what comes out of your mouth, unless its an insult to me or my family or my friends, in which case, I make no holds on whats going to come out of my mouth at that point. Don't fear opposing me, if I debate you, debate back, I'm not picking on you, and I'm certainly not saying what I believe is better than what you believe. Talk to me because you want too, talk to me because I WANT TO LISTEN. Talk to me because I love talking to you, and don't for one moment think I'm sitting there judging you because I happen to believe in the One God or because I'm a republican. I'm not ignorant, I'm eloquent, and whatever I say is the complete belief that I hold, its not yours, its mine and I'm not forcing it on you, I'm sharing and I want you to talk back. Yell, cuss, getting into a torrent and let it fly, I'm going to listen and laugh, or cry or sit in the quiet with you because I love the light inside you and if I choose to spend my time with you its because I see something beautiful in you. No more, no less.
I woke up late today, knowing we didn't have school, I wanted to get in a few hours and remember what it was like to sleep late when things get hectic later this week. It was nice. Sunday night was exhilarating / scary / gorgeous. I thought one thing when I left and came back thinking another, it caught me off guard in the best way. Life's gorgeous and its nice to feel the tingling on your skin of a night spent with amazing people. It was nice to get lost in the moment. I've missed the feeling.
We went out to Panera, discussed things, had good solid relaxing time and went to target, where I played interior designer again and made a mental notes that are going to cripple my next pay check. I want my book cases, its really upsetting my that I cant see my books, so I'm going to get them on Thursday and go hijack dads drill and go to town on some lacquered black wood Friday or Saturday. I desire to see my books. I think its why I haven't felt like this new apartment is home yet, my books are in 30 boxes stacked up against my walls and outside in my hallway. Plus, power tools are just lovely when your angry, and I think this feelings going to stick until I run until I throw up or row until Katrina has to drag me to the jeep for lack of arm and leg movement. I'll get to it, I promise, keep reading. I haven't done a me post in awhile, I miss it. Get over it. I'm being mean, I apologize, please continue reading.
After Target attacked my bank account and I put my plunder in my jeep we walked over to Barnes and Noble. Katrina forgot which way it was and it was hilarious, after living with me for two years you would think she would be acutely aware of where one of three places are: Barnes and Noble, The Art Building, and Hibachi Japan. Anyways, I digress, I went in and got a Fiji water (my favorite) and turned toward fiction. I was intrigued Sunday night by a conversation I had with James and Aaron about Hemingway and E.E. Cummings. I haven't thought about either in years, it was lovely to be around people who were willing and desired to speak on such subjects. I went straight for Ernest. Hes vastly overrated in my opinion, he was a pompous bastard and was acutely aware of how well he wrote. More power to him, as a writer of novels and poetry, its a necessity to have confidence in your writing, but don't ever, ever presume to think that what your writing is better than anyone else. Pull out a copy of Homers The 'Iliad' and get over yourself. However, Ernest did have a passion that lit your ass on fire when you read his books. The descriptions he wrote of Paris' literary society, hes coverage of the Spanish civil war and my absolutely favorite of his works (and in my top ten best writings of all time) 'Death in the Afternoon' is absolutely astounding. I wanted to be a bullfighter the moment I finished it. Its a gorgeous prose on the workings of a sport most people would look at and say 'You have got to be insane'. I sat and read for awhile and remembered the feelings it evoked the first time I read it. I had just gotten completely broken in a relationship and didn't want to eat or sleep, my best friend David from home took me to the beach and made me eat Cajun shrimp so I had energy to go surf and lay out and looked me in the eye and said 'Read it, I'll turn you around, I promise.' He was right and I killed my back getting thrashed and am still absolutely sure I saw a shark. I got lost in the pages and felt the Spanish sun on my face as I read. It was insane, it was the day I turned around and saw a light at the end of the tunnel and made the decision to get up and start those first tentative steps toward a new life. I remembered yesterday sitting there that I was sad before and that my life just gorgeous now. I've since made it out of that tunnel and am now basking in the warm afternoon sunlight that shines on this new phase of my life, and I must say, I'm meeting some absolutely gorgeous people on my way. Many have chosen to stay and walk with me, many have come and gone, but overall, I wouldn't change a thing.
After two hours and $34 later we came home and I went outside to read and doze on the porch, it was a gorgeous day and I wanted to bask in a glow I've been kind of resting in for the last few weeks, its a gorgeous feeling. I chose to read 'Walking the Bible' by Bruce Feiler, Its a book about Biblical archeology written in a gorgeous way, Bruce goes through the first five books of the Bible and goes to the sites where they took place and describes them now and how they would have been then and how it all ties back to the Bible as a historical text. I love it because its a no nonsense approach, devoid of any kind of religious connotations, spirit wise, that tend to cloud actual observations and make everything into a spiritual experiences, and yet, it was a spiritual experience for him. I love reading how he felt, how it related to the text and how the feeling of standing on actual history, ancient history made him feel so connected to the Earth itself. Like a link between man, history and Earth. The powerful feelings evoked by standing on the site where Moses supposedly saw the burning bush, or watching the sunrise on the banks of the Euphrates river. How in tune would that be?! I cant wait to get over there, to Capri and Rome and Israel and to just visit and stand and feel history rising up through my feet and losing myself in it. The wind through my hair, just me, the wind, and the impact that the ancient had on the very land I stand on. Its a powerful feeling I've felt before and is something I long to feel again.
I sat on the porch and read for awhile till I was tired then hung my legs over the side of the dish chair (my favorite) and let the sun warm me into the nice state between sleep and wake where I think best. I thought about life, and how I thought and what I believed. I do this every now and again to reconnect with myself. I usually do it on the eve of a change in my life, like a women's intuition kind of thing, but I love it, its usually just a day where I just let myself go and think. Like soul searching.
David called while I was out there and we got to talking. Got in a debate (surprise, surprise) and I found myself defending myself yet again. I'm a republican and very proud of it, however, more and more I've noticed my view straightening out. I'm not liberal, but I'm not conservative so much either. I enjoy both sides and adore it. I like being where I'm at. Its like I know what I believe, I believe it and think and vote accordingly. This, however, has no consequence on my personal life. I believe in the true ideals of the republican platform, but hate people like Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, who can go live in Canada if they don't like how we're doing things here. Canadians are nice, the rest of the free world wont have them, for good reason, but Canadians would slap them on the back and turn around and finish watching the Maple Leafs game and finish their beer. I believe what I believe and its lining up with the moderate side of things, so debate me, I still believe the same things, just understand I'm not so naive anymore. I'm completely idealistic, too much for my own good, but not so much that I'm going to be avoiding reality.
David cusses. I cuss. Sometimes dropping the F bomb is the only thing that will work. I cuss when I feel like it and I'm sorry if I offend anyone. Its me using a variety of language and enjoying the connotations it pulls up. Its a cultural phenomenon for all of you anthropology majors who know what I'm talking about, and accordingly is absolutely necessary sometimes. I hate, I hate, I HATE when he apologizes. I HATE WHEN HE APOLOGIZES. Like I'm going to get bruised by whatever he says. Hes been around for more of my fantastically severe wipe outs on my board and on the soccer field enough to know that I'm a tough little cookie, he should know that I can handle it. It doesn't bother me. IT DOESN'T BOTHER ME!! Your not going to offend me for cussing or for voice your opinions, I'm not going to judge you, in case you haven't noticed I'm not that ignorant, your going to have to get used to me cussing when appropriate and don't ever, for one second think I'm going to not like you for some reason because of it. For my beautiful readers, this is why I'm upset, you made it, please keep reading and keep and open mind, my dedicated bloggers know I speak my mind no matter what, this is no different. And pardon my french, if you get upset about what I've written thus far, I'm truly sorry to have offended you, but please, get the fuck over it. I'm upset, I'm writing and not running in the dark where I can get mugged and I'm saving those digestive pyrotechnics for a good solid row. I want this to be very VERY clear. I know there are alot of new people that I've met recently who read this on a regular basis now, welcome, I speak my mind. But this needs to be crystal clear, I don't let my religious views, my personal views cloud ANYTHING I think about people. I don't hate Muslims, I really enjoy Islamic history in fact, I don't hate atheist I don't like people who try to force their beliefs on other people. Simple as that. Believe what you want. I'm going to love the light inside of you no matter what. I'm not picky about my friends, take a look , gay, straight, goth, preppy, artist, non artist, business, philosophy, Islam, Jew, Christian, Atheist. I don't care what you believe, I care about who you are. But don't ever, ever make the mistake of thinking that I care a rats ass about what comes out of your mouth, unless its an insult to me or my family or my friends, in which case, I make no holds on whats going to come out of my mouth at that point. Don't fear opposing me, if I debate you, debate back, I'm not picking on you, and I'm certainly not saying what I believe is better than what you believe. Talk to me because you want too, talk to me because I WANT TO LISTEN. Talk to me because I love talking to you, and don't for one moment think I'm sitting there judging you because I happen to believe in the One God or because I'm a republican. I'm not ignorant, I'm eloquent, and whatever I say is the complete belief that I hold, its not yours, its mine and I'm not forcing it on you, I'm sharing and I want you to talk back. Yell, cuss, getting into a torrent and let it fly, I'm going to listen and laugh, or cry or sit in the quiet with you because I love the light inside you and if I choose to spend my time with you its because I see something beautiful in you. No more, no less.
I'm here, talk to me.
posted by Jamie | 3:09 AM
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