I used to hate jazz. I thought it too irregular, trying too hard to be avant-garde, too evocative of rainy nights on a city street under the yellow glow of streetlights. What I know now as smooth jazz or easy listening, I used to call Weather Channel music. And yet gradually, Dayton's smooth jazz station 106.5 F.M. has crept its way up my programmed radio buttons in the car to its current position at #3.

I also used to hate techno, but now I name Daft Punk among my favorite bands.

I used to slather my eyes with foul-smelling thick liquid black eyeliner and a rainbow of colors, blending them in unusual patterns a la Neopolitan ice cream. Now the only makeup I own is the cheap mascara and brown pencil eyeliner I bought for a wedding last weekend.

I used to speak up all the time, be thrilled about making my voice known and arguing my views. The world was my soapbox. Now I choose my battles and listen more, and I'm less resentful of people who I disagree with.

I used to be rather shy and introverted. This has barely changed; I don't like being in groups in which I only know a few people. I try to dissipate awkwardness with candid humor. But I've become more assertive and less passive with the people I do know. I'm still quite easily intimidated, but...I think not quite as much as I used to be.

I used to think that friends would always be friends. And then I saw some of the things that friends can do to each other.

I used to be quite naive as to the real workings of the world, corporate and governmental politics, "playing the game" instead of doing things the honest way. And then I went to college. I started working in a place that had a union. I started voting. My eyes were opened.

I used to dream of being a successful author of juvenile fiction, poetry, and fantasy epics. Now I'm graduating college with an English degree so I can be a web developer. (At least for now)

I used to be more independent. Now I hate going anywhere alone. And yet I'm still not social.

I used to think I could take on anything the world threw at me. Now I know that's not true. There will things that make me crumble, that will grab the end of a loose moral thread and unravel my whole tapestry, things I will do that will be so wrong that claiming responsibility for them is physically painful. I will cry. I will be overwhelmed. I will be needy and receive nothing.

I used to think that in the larger picture, I am insignificant. But if I am insignificant, why do I exist? Nature abhors a vacuum, and if I'm ultimately insignificant, it would not have wasted the time and energy to create me. I have a purpose. I'm just not meant to know what it is.

I used to think I could never affect a person so much that when I wronged him, it would nearly destroy him.

I used to not be jealous. But that was a delusion.

How delusional am I now? How many things am I sure about that will turn out to be wrong in ten years? I feel like I have a better grip on who I am, what kind of person I am and will be, but I could be farther from reality than I will ever recognize.

And even farther than I used to be.

People keep asking me that infernal question, " So what do you plan to do after you graduate?"

As that date starts sneaking up on my like the sneaky little thing it is, I've begun contemplating some things that I would like to start doing or pick back up on once I'm done calling myself a student. My last day of undergrad classes *ever* is August 21, and after that, my time is severely freed up.

*Get back into volunteering at the animal shelter.

*Learn to sew and start making my own clothes. I've already bookmarked a lot of patterns that I want to try.

*Read for leisure. Next book on my list: Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis.

*Commit to a stringent workout plan and continue building up muscle mass.

*Get back into painting, knitting, and other crafts I used to do.

*Get back into a habit of keeping in touch with my friends and family.

*Start planning my wedding.

*Look around the country for where I may want to go to find job opportunities.

*Look into moving to Puerto Rico for a brief stay, six months to a year.

*Re-engage with my church, the young adult group, and Buddhist studies.

*Read and write articles in Spanish to build up a portfolio. Possibly subscribe to a Spanish-language magazine. I have a few bookmarked on Amazon.

*Participate in my community and spend less time lounging around the house.

Are there things that you think I should add to this list? This is, of course, not all-inclusive; that is, there's more that I want to do with my life than just these things. But these are the things I'd like to pick up relatively soon after I'm done with school.

I have a very strange, very close relationship with music. I could never fall in love with anyone who didn't connect with music the way I do. I've known a few people that I had a lot of chemistry with, but they didn't engage with music (I don't listen -- I engage) and that broke the current.

I love me some good deep language in the lyrics. If words are used in new, fresh ways -- If I can't guess what's coming next because of a predictable rhyme or cliche phrase -- I get a really attached. I get really affected. I can't NOT pay attention to a song's lyrics.

I can also appreciate good composition. This has become more evident to me as I get into techno/electronica sounds, because these genres are all about the composition. I don't have perfect pitch like my brother, my own music-making skills are rather limited to some very amateur guitar, but I have an ear for things that sound good. When I hear something new and interesting that's composed well or has some element of originality to it, it immediately catches my attention. I'm also attracted by unique voices, like Michael Stipe and Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Instrumentation is another thing that draws me to music. One of the reasons I just can't appreciate emo is the unskillful application of sounds and use of instruments. Guitars are more than chords, they're more than power chords certainly, they're more than whammy bars and distortion. So when I hear someone who really knows how to play the guitar, who knows how to *treat* a guitar, my ears perk up. In fact, I first listened to Coheed & Cambria because I was really impressed with their handling of the guitar. (I tend to focus on guitar just because that's what I play, and it's often the most noticeable instrument in the music I listen to. I also really like piano.)

What's interesting about my relationship with music is just that -- the very strong relationship that I'll form with a song, a group, an album, a playlist, etc. I'll get on kicks where all I listen to is one particular artist or even a certain song. Usually I get so attached to that song that my environment, my emotional state, my situation and location, everything becomes almost irrevocably attached to the song/album/artist. For instance, I started listening to Iron and Wine just before winter, when it was just starting to get cold. Now I can listen to some of those songs and all I can think about is winter and cold. But there is one that I didn't hear until the next fall, and that one is definitely connected to fall -- even though it's called "Faded from Winter."

I hear Stabbing Westward and I'm transported back to the school bus riding to Winterguard competitions when I was in tenth grade, while I was on my SW kick. I hear the Cure and I go back two years to some unfortunate times in my dorm, made even more unfortunate by the fact that I really really love the Cure and can't separate it from these negative memories and experiences. I hear Boards of Canada, and I'm sitting in the passenger's seat of Shawn's explorer, staring out the skylight at a summer sky until my neck gets sore. I hear the corny 90s R&B love song "All my Life" by K-Ci and Jojo and I can see the CD that my first serious boyfriend made for me, I feel the angry thoughts I had towards my parents, I remember one weekend when they made me go on a family walk and all I did was listen to the CD as we walked around the park. I remember the light, the weather, everything about it. Just from hearing a song.

But to me it feels like it's not mere memory of "the last time I heard this song." Most of the time, my strongest connections are to where I was the *first* time I really got into a song/artist. It is really transporting. If I hear Linkin Park, I go back to teenage rebellion. I don't just remember it, I experience it. I go through the same bitterness and self-centeredness and resentment that dominated me when I listened to Linkin Park every day. I hear Sevendust and remember the person who burned me the first and only Sevendust CD I ever owned and the 6:30 am bus to school when I used to listen to it. I hear Ace of Base, Sugar Ray, and Barenaked Ladies, and I'm in a hotel room in Liechtenstein thirteen years ago with a healing black eye, watching the only TV channel that has English. I hear anything from Oasis's "What's the Story, Morning Glory?" and I am battling level 15 on Tetris World on my brother's Xbox.

I really hope I never break up with music, that this relationship just gets better and better. I'm glad I have something in my life that I *can* engage with as strongly as I do with music, with songs, with lyrics and compositions. It's something really enriches my life. I continue to discover some really phenomenal music and add it to this library of connections I have. I try to guess what songs will transport me back to this point in my life, if any. I don't really think I'm on a kick right now, but you never know what I might associate with that last summer of college and all the myriad concerns that are complicating my life right now.

If music be the food of love, play on.

For those who haven't seen me lately, here's an update: I have more or less turned into a giant freckle. That's what happens when I spend as much time out in the sun as I have been this summer. It's the closest I'll come to a tan.

I am making delayed but steady progress on my honors project stories, despite making big changes to one of them and pretty much starting over on the second one.

Nearly everyone I know is going on vacation, took a vacation, or is currently on vacation, except for me.

I am officially doomed: last night, I dreamed about the Cincinnati Reds. If I can't escape sports even in my sleep, I don't know what I'm going to do.

Reds are having a so-so season. They beat the Yankees twice this weekend but that was after a five-game losing streak. I shouldn't know, much less care about, any of this.

If I win the lottery, I'm heading to IKEA. No question.

My new metabolism medication is giving me serious heartburn and other stomach-related problems. Common side effects suck.

I have been so tired lately. It could be the change in season, my slowed-down schedule, or either one of my meds. In any case, it's been nearly impossible to get up in the morning and I'm drained all day. Not fun.

Shawn has a new nickname. I'm not sure exactly how to spell it. Think Larry but make it rhyme with Sorry. Lary? Larie? I don't know. He was trying to say "I'm sorry" but got a random L stuck in there. Hence, I'm Lary, hence, nickname.

I don't know what I'm going to do when I graduate, and I don't know when I'm getting married, so everyone can please stop asking me because I've run out of things to say and might start making things up. (What are you doing after you graduate??? Going to the moon and having a smoke with Hillary Clinton.)

I wonder, as I look at this ad on the side of my page, if I should become a certified yoga instructor. Just for funsies (the best reason to do anything).

I have seen Ocean's Twelve and Ocean's Thirteen, but not Ocean's Eleven. Is this bad?

And now it's quitting time. Thanks for listening to me ramble.

Since winter quarter didn't go over without its many bumps and bruises, I thought it might be wise to lay out what the Spring will be like, since it's only two and a half weeks away.

CLASSES:
SPN 334, Literary Study 2
UH 400, Revolutions: Turning Points in the History of Science
ENG 420: Senior Poetry Seminar
ENG 393: Short Story Workshop

What to expect:
SPN 334: Lots of reading and short-answer/essay tests, at least one paper
UH 400: At least one detailed research paper, but interesting subject material
ENG 420: Writing poetry that will please the professor, and probably a paper or two
ENG 393: Lots of writing (duh) but with a really good professor who is also my Honors advisor


ALSO, I will be working on my Honors senior capstone project, a collection of six short stories of 7-10 pages each, plus meetings with my advisor to go over said project.

CLASS SCHEDULE:
MWF Class only from 12:15-1:20 (SPN)
T/TH Class from 12:20-5:50, fifteen minutes in between each of the other three classes

WORK SCHEDULE:
S: 5:30pm-1:30am (potential for a full 8 hours of sleep)
M 5:30pm-1:30am (approx. 3 hours between getting home from class and leaving for work)
T 9pm-1am (approx. 2.5 hours free)
W none (free from about 1:45pm on)
Th 9pm-2am (approx. 2.5 hours free)
F 9pm-2am (approx. 7 hours free)

So basically, I can expect to be writing pretty much ALL THE TIME, but I will have a lot more free time in which to do it. That seems paradoxical because I'm taking the same amount of credits this quarter as I am in the Spring, however, this quarter I only had Tuesday and Thursday afternoons off for getting school- and house-work done. But in the spring, I get a few hours on Monday and several on Wednesday and Friday.

Plus, none of my classes begin before noon, so I can definitely get enough sleep, or use morning hours to complete assignments.

I'm just relieved that
(a) the weather will be nicer, and
(b) it's my second-to-last quarter at WSU!!!!!!

I have decided on (or rather, discovered) a new career objective.

I've known for a while now--about two years, which is the longest I've ever held a career aspiration--that I want to be a journalist. Writing is my passion, and I will not be happy unless I am writing. Even though I normally write fiction, journalism is one way that I can translate my passion for writing into a career that can sustain me.

With that out of the way, over the past two years as I started chasing this career, I thought about what me uber-objective is, what I want to do as a journalist, what kind of journalist I would want to be. In other words, what exactly is my goal?

And up until yesterday, my goal had been set at eventually writing for a nationally-published and highly-esteemed magazine, something like TIME, National Geographic, or the Rolling Stone, even if I only get to do one article. But more recently, that has hit me as being a little... well... nebulous. It's like a singer saying she wants to be famous.

So, while I am still keeping the aforementioned goal in mind, I have reset my sights on a more short-term and realistic expectation of myself. I'm not lowering the bar, mind you, but I'm setting up something concrete that I can put on my resume and talk to employers about as my goal instead of "breaking into the world of journalism."

New goal? How kind of you to urge me to get to the point.

I want to write for a Spanish or bilingual periodical in the United States, hopefully--preferably--in southern California or other border state with a large Hispanic population.

This little sentence dawned on me last night at work, and it sure brightened my day. It's a way that I can justify my Spanish minor as something that I didn't just do for fun because I'm interested in Spanish. It's also something more concrete that I can set mini-goals toward, a sort of to-do list for things I need if I want to reach this goal.

1. Subscribe to a Spanish periodical--a respectable one, not something like People--so I can familiarize myself with the Spanish journalistic style.

2. Start building up a portfolio of articles in Spanish, covering a range of topics. Perhaps start small by translating articles I've already written before attempting something larger.

3. Get in contact with Spanish-language publishers, read what they publish, and market myself to them. And, no matter where I go to get a job, market myself as bilingual, even if I'm not going for a writing position. This must be a key to my resume.

4. VISIT SPANISH-SPEAKING COUNTRIES. Imperative.

Oh, and last but not least,
Move to San Diego. :)

it's the only thing i can do

to show the strong expression, the wooden face

the eyes that can't see bad things

the lips that only permit words of hope

the waterproof skin that doesn't tolerate tears

it's what i can do

when Life is determined to get worse

when the money runs out

when the friends are distant

when everthing is dark

i need to do more,

but what more can i do?

i don't have the solutions

i don't have the answers

i don't have the magic wand.

nobody

nobody can do what i need done

i can only depend on my self.

but when i look at it,

i see nothing. i see false things, false hope,

lies that i tell myself.

i see the facade begin to crumble,

and a single tear escapes through the crack

es la unica cosa que puedo hacer
demostrar el gesto fuerte, la cara de madera
los ojos que no pueden ver el mal
los labios que solo permiten palabras de esperanza
el piel impermeable, que no tolera las lagrimas

es lo que puedo hacer
cuando la Vida se determina en peorar
cuando el dinero se acaba
cuando los amigos estan lejos
cuando todo es oscuro

necesito hacer mas
pero que mas puedo hacer?
no tengo las soluciones.
no tengo respuestas.
no tengo la varita magica

nadie
nadie puede hacer lo que necesito
solo puedo depender en mi mismo

pero cuando yo lo miro,
veo nada. veo cosas falsas, esperanza falsa,
mentiras que me digo.

veo la fachada comienza a desmenuzar y
una lagrima solo escapa por la grieta

I tried to imagine someone actually walking up and asking me that. And it was hard. My imaginary self stared back at this person, mouth open but silent, caught off guard. If there's one thing I'm not good at, it's asking for help.

What do I need? And specifically, what do I need that someone else could help me achieve?

There are lots of little things that I could use. Car repairs. More money. More time. Someone to do my chores for me. Nicer weather. More sleep. More chances to see friends and family that haven't seen me in a while. Less doubt. Less distractions. Less conflict. Less drama.

But what do I need from another person?

In the end, it comes down to...

I need someone who will listen to me whine, bitch, vent, and otherwise complain about the world without judging, without saying that I'm exaggerating, without patronizing me.

I need someone who will reassure me when things are getting tough. I try to be as optimistic as I can, but when things are only getting worse, I will admit it's hard to keep the bright face on. Sometimes I do it for others, to make them feel better, to make them think I have confidence that I really lack. Sometimes I do it to trick myself into believing it even when I couldn't be more uncertain. (must.not.cry.at.work.)

I need someone around whom I can completely be myself. I don't need people who will judge me, or who I have to check my behavior around. Right now I can really only be me, whatever that is, when I'm completely alone.

I need someone who doesn't have any expectations of me, positive or negative.

I need someone who doesn't try to influence me toward their own side of the fence, their own direction; who just encourages me on the path I'm on and warns me when I look like straying.

I need an allweather friend. Consistency and dependability.

I need someone who will challenge me and remind me when I'm straying from my own path or doing something that is going to hurt me in the long run.

I need forgiveness.

I need advice. (I always find I give myself the best advice when I'm trying to advise other people. I only realize my own wisdom when others need it.)

I need intimacy, someone who will hear all of my dirtiest secrets without judging them or using them against me. Physical intimacy, too. No distance.

I need someone who won't call me emo when I relate with song lyrics and poetry and art more than I do with anything practical, pragmatic, and concrete.

I need gentle guidance.

I need someone who will adjust my perspective and give me periodic reality checks.

I need someone who will remind me not to bite off more than I can chew and maybe perform the Heimlich when I start choking.

I need a partner.

I need someone to sit on my shoulder and pinch me whenever I'm about to do something really really really really stupid or make a big mistake. I could have really used this about two years ago.

I need forgiveness.

And right now, thanks to trying to answer this question thoroughly, I need a hug.

I've had all this info stored away in my head and now I've decided to dump it on my blog, because that way I can reference it later and add to it without taking up precious space in my brain. o.O

WEDDING PLANS!!!!

I want a cream-colored dress, something simple that compliments my body no matter what shape I'm in at the time. I will wear my hair down, or in a French braid. Shawn's tux will be dark gray--a recommendation from a photographer friend. General wedding colors will be purple and cream with silver accents.

My bridesmaids will wear purple--since it's a fall wedding, probably a dark purple. (My second choice color would be a dark copper.) I have decided on two people in my bridal party. We haven't said how many people on each side of the wedding party, so I still have potential slots open.

Our cake will be in the wedding colors and structured entirely out of cupcakes, with one small round cake on top for us to cut. I'd like to find a bunny & bear cake topper somewhere. Flavor? I have no idea. Maybe carrot.

I want Queen's "You're My Best Friend" and "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" each to play at some point during the reception. Shawn's and my first dance will be to Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight." No decision yet on the live band vs. DJ issue. I kind of want a DJ just because I don't want to hear crappy cover versions of the songs we choose. Shawn's more on the live band side.

Outdoors would be our ideal, especially since we're looking at a fall wedding--fall in Ohio is beautiful, and we usually get an Indian summer that lasts well into October. We've pondered having it at John Bryan State Park in Yellow Springs. Clifton Gorge is a dream vision at that time of year. If not there, then... well, we have plenty of other parks around. But even if we do move it indoors, it will NOT be a church wedding!

Reception... I have almost nothing in mind, mostly because I've only ever been to three receptions that I know of, and I was very young and not paying attention to what a reception actually IS. Luckily I'll have Shawn's brother's wedding in October to study from. We've considered having LaRosa's cater, but that's just one idea.

I still need ideas for table centerpieces and wedding favors.

I think it would be really cool if I could get some Eidelweiss flowers in my bouquet, but I don't even know if you can get those in the states. As for other flowers, I like pretty much any variety of lily. I don't think flowers are going to be a huge deal at our wedding because we're not really that kind of couple.

We are still hashing things out on whether we want a Justice of the Peace to do the service, or a Unitarian minister. There are strong feelings on both sides. I am considering having our Fellowship as a potential indoor location, if we decide to move the wedding that way.

Honeymoon... knowing us, we'll probably go camping. That's another thing we really haven't thought about much.

So. There's everything that I've been stocking up in my head, now down in words. Let's see what else I come up with before the real serious planning starts.