World Peace... As if staying in one spot were normal, the definition of aberrant would be by life. Once again i am leaving my home for the next 7 days to embark on a journey of unknown proportions. is she going to new york again? no no. Is she leaving the country to save the lives of young children as a missionary? no. I, Junior Miss Hillsboro, am going to Salem for a week to compete in a pagent. Although under the title in all of it's brosures states "focus on scholastics", I am not fooled. This is a pagent and a week of preparation. I'll be staying with a host family and another exhuberant young independant woman who has met the standards and regulations of the National Junior Miss Association. Now, i am not unusally one to endorse such an activity. I tend to prefer to stick with individual, non-competitive sports and endorse my time into self-developement and such. But the allure of experience and money has lassoed me in, and as they say, the show must go on....
But of all the promises and implications the program brags about developing the individual and encouraging young women, I find it curious that we are told in strict and bold writting what exactly we must wear every day and how to act at different meeting places. The days are packed with interveiws and rehersals where our group is put on display for only names sake and recognition. I ask, if this is to bettter the individual, then why cant i wear sweatpants? If a graphics tee describes me, why do i have to wear a collard shirt? On wednesday it says 'nice shorts and top'. What if I am uncomfrotable with my legs and feel that I would better represent my normal self in slacks or a skirt? I just done get it.

PS It was recently pointed out to me that i dont spell check or grammar check and it is distracting. Well, quiet honestly, i like it. I type once, dont read it, and just let it go.....
  ¶ 4:49 PM 2 Comments

  Listen to Big Bird..... leave off your robe please. Stack your clothing on a table and let it mold with dust. When your mother nocks on your door, dont rush to the laudry bin to find a fragment of cloth to cover your body before yelling in fear, "dont come in, I'm naked!". Crack the mirror that stand behind your door and around every corner of your house. Save your money, quit buying that anti-aging cream that the woman on television swears by. Stop the insanity.
Go to a corner and find every flaw of your body, every inch your find unsatisfactory, every crease you wish would cease. Find it, and then loose it. Forget you had it. Learn to love it, and deal with it. Your body is what you've got and through no form of self-mudilation will you ever be completely happy with it if you are not willing to see the beauty it already has. Here we are, in a place where it is normal to be unsatisfied with your very body, the only thing you have and will never loose until the day you die. Name one thing that is under this same condition on this physical earth?  The one thing that is our only true possesion is the very same thing every single one of us finds flaws in. Why, why is it normal to hate it, accepted to beg for someone elses, and iniquitous to truely love it?  I have a theory that half of the people when told "man, you are beautiful" already know this and just say "no i'm not" just because they know that is the appropriate answer. Then, they go home and stand for hours in front of a mirror and wonder, am i really? Cosmo says i'm not. Dont hate, appreciate. As cleche as it sounds, dont deny the beauty you have. I can honestly say that i know of few bodies that i would clasify as anything less than beautiful, yet 1 in a million minds will accredit themselve with an honest 'ok' when asked how they would rate themselves. My gosh, if needed, i will start the revolution of a lack of humility. dangit,  I LOVE MY BODY AND I AM BEAUTIFUL!!! wow, that does sounds conceeded. come on, type it, you know you want to. So join me! Through in your robes, stand up and say, "i'm beautiful..."
  ¶ 9:43 PM 3 Comments

  cerulean orb i wish i had blue eyes. Eyes that you could see into, a color that would reflect joy, peace, tranquility. Blue eyes that had a hint of aqua so they looked like the deep ocean and as silken as down. Eyes that rippled and moved and made people come closer just so they could get lost into your eyes for a moments peace in a hectic day. Eyes that defined beauty and pulled in a stranger to ask you for something he didnt even need just so he could look at them. Creamy eyes, like someone had taken a drop of azure food dye and dropped it into a bowl of whipping cream. Eyes that expressed your emotions: cerulean colored when the sun shines directly into them, sapphire after a good cry, azure when you laugh, and deep stary blue underneath your eye lids when you sleep. Wouldnt that be nice? Okay, maybe i am out of luck, but at least i can have hope for my children right?
  ¶ 6:13 PM 3 Comments

  I need a towel this morning, i was baptized. Not by a sprinkle of holy water, nor at the hands of a priest. Not in a church sancuary, or underneath a brightly lit golden cross emblem.  Not surrounded by the smell of glade plug-ins and clorox bleach, nor of ancient pews and dusty bibles. I was baptized in the most beautiful way, in the most holy place. Wading into the dusty lake water, i felt the warmness slip over my feet, my ankles, my knees, my thighs....my waist, my hands dip in. Half emersed and fully dressed, i felt awkward but completely somber. A woman whom i love, trust, care for, and follow put her arm around me and smiled in my ear. I fely her warmth like i felt the waters, slowly encompasing me. Straight ahead the trees hid in a low fog; huge and mighty they reminded me of my dad, who stood behind me, holding back tears. Fish jumped in and out of the same water which we stood but instead of making me uncomfortable, i found peace in the noise they made as they reentered the water. To the point where my hands stroked the waters soft surface, i turned around to face my congregation; people i know, people i dont know, friends, peers, superiors, strangers, encouragers. Not one single person was looking anywhere but me. I felt their smiles hit my face, their hopes, thier wishes, their prayers. I feel their full attention on me at this one point in time. Although what follows is most likely the most inportant part of the ordinace, i dont exactly remember what occured, what was said, or even exactly all it felt like. But i do recall the complete and utter silence, emptiness, and cleanliness underneath the waters surface as i was dipped in for the last time as an unbaptized child of God....
  ¶ 4:30 PM 3 Comments

  How bizarre how bizarre....oh baby, its making me crazy everytime i look around its in your face....what a unique song. Oh another good song goes i dont mean to piss you off with things i might say but when i try to shut my mouth they come out anyway when i speak my mind thats when we become connected, but thats not politically correct. Man thats good stuff. I do believe i have talked about political correctness haven't I. I'll just assume i have... This is total BS post, i just felt bad for not blogging for the past few days. Isnt guilt a horrible thing. It makes you do everything you dont want to do. Where does guilt come from? Mine is always self-imposed. I feel guilty for doing bad, but even more guilty for not doing something good. Anywho, i am going to gto dance, then go to a religious discussion meeting and then starbucks. Later
  ¶ 3:54 PM 2 Comments

  Get me a calculator please 2.40 a day if its close, free if he is working, 2 bucks if i am cheap and a "traitor", free if i wanna labor. 2.35 if i feel the need to support the monarchy from Seattle, and .99 if all i can find is 7-11. Let's see....about 2 bucks everyday, 5 days a week, since June 12th. What does it equal? A SERIOUS PROBLEM!! oh, it stinks to be a jobless addict. why oh why do i always reason with myself that each and every day "i deserve it". When i am old and fat, with yellow teeth, bad breath, the shakes, and five butts, will someone please volunteer to momentarily unhook my caffine IV and get me a latte?
  ¶ 3:04 PM 3 Comments

  "Please dont push the bikers............" I absolutely love my family. At this exact moment, i am sitting in my living room surrounded by them. My mother, in her workout clothes and sitting 3 feet away from the television, has passed out while watching the Tour de France on one of our new channels which my father HAD to order in order to follow the race. Her hand are still inside the two seperate ALtoids tins which she likes to eat in a mix-and-match order because she "likes how the cinnimon and mint taste together". In front of her is two newspapers, one from two days ago, and todays. She is completing the older one's daily cross-word and is using today's section for the correct answers so she can pretend like she knows all those words that nobody actually uses (especially at Red Robin). Adjacent to my mother is my 20 year old brother, passed out on the couch also, curled up in the fetal position iwht only his athletic shorts on. In his hands is the Play Station 2 'Tony Hawk;s Underground". Drooling out the corners of his mouth and breathing heavily, he occasionally snorts, smacks his mouth together, and then falls back asleep. I am the only one awake around here which makes me feel privaledged and some-what cool. Like i am awake at 12:30 on a Saturday night, doing something. Then i remind myself that i am typing into my computer at 12:30 am on a Saturday night surrounding by sleeping people. Oh yes for the anti-social. Later
 
PS i know this is clishe, but if you reads this and you know it, clap your hands, and then feel free to comment. But seriously, please clap..for me?

  ¶ 12:23 AM 3 Comments

  Sixteen Each time we open our eyes in the world we all currently live in, one with a functioning society and a flurishing population, every single one of us sees at least one person a day. That minimal amount is almost always surpased by the dozens, and each face that we see makes an impact. Never again can we say we have never seen that person. If they happen to be memorable or maybe even famous, a memory is made that will never disappear. Once the invisible perimeter of familiarity is permiated, that person is now known to you. You ask a name, say a hello, exchange a glance, whatever. That person is now and forever a part of your past, a part of your life. Isnt it amazing when you think of all the people you know? And when i say know, i mean, can fathom. I am speaking of anyone who in any way rings a bell. How many names sound familiar? How many faces spark a light in your memory? Immeasurable right?Opposite knowledge is intimacy. How many people whom you have intimacy with  is not immeasurable .They say the average human has a magic capacity for intimacy. 16. 16 people. Studies show that every person has the ability, unless some physical disablility inables them, to store information, memory, feelings, associations at a deep level for 16 people. Most often these include family, a friend, and people of inpact. But then i always wonder, when i become intimate with another, who gets the boot? Let's say i develop a new friendship one summer and learn the ins and outs of one individual. They are added to my 16. But i can only take 16, not 17, so someone who was onnce in my inner circle steps out. Do i begin to forget things about them, loose feelings for them, change my veiw of them? Its almost enough to make me not want to meet anyone new for fear of the threat they pose to one of my inner 16. Maybe i am just like a Holiday Inn, 16 rooms for only those with the highest bid....i apologize to whomever gets the boot. just thoughts.....later
  ¶ 12:37 AM 8 Comments

  Summer with the dead Still waking up at 7 in the morning only to be shocked by my red walls, home isnt quiet home yet. To see a familiar face is something i am not used to, to be able to "snack" is a divine source of power and happiness. To go on a drive just becasue is what i live for. It's amazing, really summer is. I imagine summer to be a taste of what the afterlife is like. Complete freedom with restraints, power but no money, and no ultimate goal but to just relax. I woke up today, looked in the mirror (literaly) and said "today, i will ........" thats about it. Day in and da out. I have a feeling this may get old. But for the last 3 and the coming unknown, it is pure bliss......I must go and do pilates now..lter
  ¶ 10:09 AM 2 Comments

  trains goodnight city, goodbye new york. goodevening to everyone i met. maybe i will see you someday again, most likely not.
trains here to take me away, and i'm okay with that. i'll miss you city, your noise, your stank, your people, your rudeness, your art, your cheapness.
please dont change so when i come back i still feel a like i am in a second home. next time i will bring some friends for you to meet.
i'm singing the same bittersweet symphany. hopefully the steaminess of the hot train-car will help disipate the memories and just take me home..
goodbye new york, hello train, i'm ready for oregon and a familiar face.  ¶ 1:32 PM 2 Comments

  Sapora Due Cocina Italtiana Upside down and awkward, i peered through my tights-covered legs to ask andrea if she was as excited as i was for chili and peas tonight. Seeing as thats all that remains of this weeks groceries and we are out of town for the weekend,
it made sense to need to empty our stock. Just as enthusiastically as i had said it, she suggested we go out for dinner and thus began the evening. 2 hours later class was over and we ventured down Greenwich Ave. My god New york is beautiful at sunset.
Any place that looked good or caught our eye we checked the prices that were displayed in the window pane. After 3 blocks of mostly bars, little Italy took over and on the corner of 12th, we found the cafe Sapora Due Cocina Italiana. Self set, we sat on the
corner table right on the sidewalk. Behind us a large italian man played the violin and surrounded by mostly couples, i felt like a woman in Italy itself. Stuffed with the perfect sized portion of a magnificent mozerlla and ham sandwich
i just basqued in the sunset and listened to Bella Noche play softly in the background as the sights of the city passed in front of me.
With room to spare, i knew that this dinner would not be over without toping it off with a glass of gelato, italian ice cream. A little peice of heaven itself,
we went to a coffee shop just down the road to sample and later savor the 12 flavors of gelato. May i ask, does life get any sweeter than in the stomach of a food-loving woman in the heart of Greenwich Village?  ¶ 6:37 PM 2 Comments