Titles of books I'm going to write someday.

I often think of cool titles for books and decide to write them someday. The one I thought of today was One Without Laughter (or perhaps A Day Without Laughter) from the quote "The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." by E. E. Cummings.

New Laptop

No, I don't have a new laptop, I'm looking for one. Everyone that knows me is sick of hearing me debate the various merits of different brands and discuss the pros and cons of whatever model I'm currently considering.

So far I've learned one thing: buying a laptop is like falling in love. Say you meet someone, and almost instantly there's an attraction. Before you know it, you're dating, and everything is exactly what you wanted--even things that you didn't realize that you wanted until you had them. If that relationship ends, you come away with some pretty high expectations for meeting someone new. You don't want to have to convince yourself you like someone, to talk yourself into a relationship, to make compromises; you want it to seem as natural and instant as it did the last time--you want to just click. Anything else seems like a crappy and pale substitute.

My last (current) laptop was like that. I had been looking for a laptop for a while, and when I saw it, I bought it immediately. It seemed like an impulse purchase, but it was more like love at first sight. Now that I'm looking for a new one (my lappy has served me loyally for 3 years, but I need an upgrade) and I'm having a hard time. I've almost bought one a few times, but it just seemed empty and somehow lacking compared to the relationship I have with my current laptop. Sigh... perhaps I just need to get out more


Quos amor verus tenuit, tenebit.

If I could buy time in a bottle...

On Friday I had a HUGE homework assignment due. Because of this, I stayed at school until midnight on Thursday night, then worked another 2 hours after I got home, then got up at 7 am Friday morning to finish rewriting it so it was all legible, and finished that on the train on the way to school. I probably put about 20 hours into that assignment. That may be a bit above average, but for the sake of argument let's just say that's normal:

We get one assignment a week in that class. So that's 20 hours a week. Plus my TA job is supposed to be 20 hours a week. I also have another class, so there's 20 more hours. I have a one credit discussion class thing that has a lot of homework assignments, papers, projects, etc--we'll say it averages out to 5 hours per week. Then I have seminar/journal club, which is at least 3 hours/week. The actual time I spend in the previously mentioned classes is 8 hours/week. So far this is a grand total of 76 hours a week, so far. I also have to actually study--because, at least in my book, studying and doing homework are completely separate things--for these classes, study for the comps, eat, sleep, go to church, commute, get ready in the mornings, pay taxes, exercise, do laundry, go grocery shopping...

How do I find time to do it all, you ask? What do I do to save time and be more efficient? I brush my teeth in the shower. (I don't think this actually saves any time, actually, but I can stay under the warm water 2 minutes longer, which is nice, especially when the heat in my apartment is spazzing out.) :)

Shaken

My world is shaken. I read the news reports over and over, still incredulous. They are so direct and factual. And yet, so cold. "FATAL ACCIDENT ... died on impact ... A 23-year-old Murray woman was killed ..." She hated being called a "woman." She was a girl. A girly girl. No one wants to be a womanly woman. Get it right. I want to scream at them for reporting it like it's just another piece of "news" when this time it's so much more.

I scroll through her facebook page, but I can't bring myself to write a message to her that I know she will never read--even though scores of other people have done so. I pause, ironically, on one message from someone who somehow managed to escape the news. It's a friendly "hey girl! I'm doing good! How have you been? How do you like your new job?" I wonder of anyone has informed the sender yet. Her last status update, via her mobile phone, the same day of the accident, proclaims "...is leaving happy valley."

It's so strange the way a facebook page remains up, intact, and functioning. I feel almost as if it is mocking. That it's still alive when its creator is not. But that's silly. How can it know.

I browse her blog. The most recent post talks of "ch-ch-ch-changes." New town, new job, new apartment. So full of excitement and anticipation. And now...

It's a reminder that life is so fragile, so precious, and so uncertain... but what am I going to do with this reminder? I email a friend to say I love you, but manage to refrain from adding "don't die anytime soon, please."

I fail so spectacularly at putting into words the way I'm feeling. I'm not angry. I'm not mad. Maybe a little upset. Definitely sad. And shaken. And you know what, I'll bet she's feeling a little shaken right now too.

For Adriannie, with love

This is a repost of a blog entry I wrote a long time ago, back when blogging was new and novel. It seems kind of cheap, like I'm pulling an Elton John (a la Candle in the Wind) and recycling an old song for you rather than writing a new one. But now I can see his perspective a little more, and some moments/emotions (shock comes to mind) just don't lend themselves well to a lot of creative energy. I was never as great of a writer as you were, anyway.

I remember our last conversation as rather lame and mundane. I was distracted by a bunch of other things while we chatted, and I don't even know if we said goodbye, or if one of us just went idle and then the other person went offline, as tends to happen in Messenger conversations. Sorry for not being more attentive.

I will miss your girlishness, obsession with shoes, and fascination with all things fashion. We were so much the opposite in so many ways that people (myself included) often wondered why we were ever friends. But it worked. You were the yin to my yang, the Jekyll to my Hyde... ok, this analogy isn't really going as well as I had envisioned. :P Honestly, sometimes you annoyed me and sometimes I annoyed you, but it was all good. We had fun together.

Thanks for your writing, your poems, your passion, your undying belief in true love, your fashion advice, your dating advice, your music, books, and movies. I'm truly regretful that we never got to go to Paris together. I heart you. :)

For the last time

I am fascinated by "lasts." They are so much more elusive than firsts. You always know when you are having a first, be it a first kiss, a first date, the first time trying a new food, visiting a new place, seeing a certain movie, meeting a new person, etc. But a last will sneak up on you, and if you aren't careful--which you usually aren't--you are likely to miss it completely.

Unlike a first, many times when you experience a last, you aren't even aware of it. For instance, if a friend or family member died suddenly, would you remember the last time you had hugged them or told them you loved them, or even the last time you really spoke with them? Perhaps you would, or perhaps not, but more than likely at the time you were not aware you were experiencing a last. There comes a day when every baby will learn to actually say, for example, "daddy" instead of "da-da." It just will happen, and when it does, who will remember the last time the baby-talk version was used? There are some friends that will be around for life, but most friends come and go. You are close for a while, and then you drift your separate ways. What was the last conversation you ever had?

If something ends, there has to be a last involved. Since very few things endure forever, that makes for a lot of lasts. (This could even be the last time you read my blog.) Sometimes I think it a shame that lasts usually don't announce themselves with such fanfare as firsts tend to do. It would certainly lend a new perspective.