a mind map

This is sort of entry that allows me to chronicle poor online decisions, and should not be of interest to any-birdy

five-minute foolery in practice:

- Clicks on facebook tab with the intentions of closing it, but mouse wanders a millimeter to the left...

- Engages in scan of newsfeed. ______ changed their profile picture! Inspect!

- ______ was with ______ at the Rain Room. A brief google...

- MoMA article explains exhibit. Eager for more silvery-stranded sights. Make Google Images dash. 

- pretty snapshot of Rain Room beckons me toward random blog. 

- Blog post documents high points of a vacation in NYC and New Jersey. Picture of Carlo's Bake Shop stirs appetite. 

- Hop over to bake shop's website; read through entire list of cake fillings. Yearn for dinner.

- Hey, this bake shop is helmed by Buddy Valastro, the star of Cake Boss!

- Youtube an early episode of Cake Boss. Think fondly upon hours spent belly-down on best friend's floor watching Cupcake Wars. 

- Curiosity piqued by Buddy Valastro's accent. Do all residents of New Jersey speak that way, and are they all so evenly tanned?

- Youtube Real Housewives of New Jersey - must solve accent mystery.

- Yes, they do. And yes, they are. Rather blinkered of me.

- Suggested videos box includes snippets from Jersey Shore. Continue research.

- Marvel at the powers of eye makeup. 

- Wikipedia "Mike the Situation" and absorb all that his Personal Life tab has to offer with rare attentiveness.

- Brother interrupts my spree. Clock shames me.

- Discover that a click in time would have saved nine(teen) minutes.

- Proceed to write this uninspiring post.

Humph. Humph humph humph. A little blotch on an otherwise useful day.

if the hill won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad will hop on over!

Rancho San Antonio Open Space Preserve is home to the prettiest light and shade that I've ever seen. 

Three and a half hours of trekking led us to conclude that PG&E trail = pathway to Pain, Grief, & Exorcism. Sharing these experiences with good company, however, affirmed that hiking is always a Pretty Golden Experience. 

sporadic, but

Thursday evenings used to always mean worship team practice at Crosswalk, until junior year stresses and a new church drew me away. How wonderful it is to return after so long! I had forgotten what it felt like to play here. In this place, musicians melt away and become phials; we try our best to be God's instruments instead of worrying about our own. Somehow, even with this reduction in technical focus, the music melds effortlessly, and permeates every corner of the sanctuary. Bach knew this well: 
1) "It's easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself."
2) "I play the notes as they are written, but it is God who makes the music."
Thank you, db, for five years of inspiration.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness 

for His name's sake.

Psalm 23:1-3

worthy words to chew on 

the leftovers

Here's a look into a poetry project that we did in English class this past year. Students were organized into teams based on the compatibility of their assigned poets (naturalists went together, as did Asian-Americans, despondent women, and so on). My group members and I could find no common streak in the works of Elizabeth Bishop, E. E. Cummings, William Carlos Williams, and T. S. Eliot, so we jauntily united them as 'The Leftovers'. I drew a picture for each poem that we read aloud to the class.

1) Maya chose "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop. Read it (...Write it!)


2) We spoke aloud, to the best of our abilities, E. E. Cummings's "l(a". Experience this 22-character wonder!

3) Matt recited "This Is Just To Say", by W. C. W. Yum


4) Jonathan presented T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", which you can read here.

be still and know

This lullaby makes my heart quiet. Here are the words, in German and English: 

Schlaf sanft, mein Kind, schlaf sanft und schon! Mich dauert's sehr, dich weinen sehn.

Sleep softly, my child, oh gently sleep! It grieves me so to see thee weep.

keep an ear out for the change in color at 0:53!

summer is whizzing by

... at the rate that my mother's new Vita-Mix processes whole lemons. In fear that each day passes into oblivion without a proper good-bye, I have created a blog - something to smile at in five years' time.

Today, I present to you two pieces of poetry from my eighth-grade year. The first serves as an introduction, because I knew myself better when I was younger. It's full of I's and is a bit tiresome, but then again, so am I:

I am a quiet silly girl

I wonder about souls and the people they live in

I hear music to be written down

I see lots and lots of sparkles

I want a snuggle

I am a quiet silly girl

I pretend to be a quiet silly girl

I feel like eating a Jammy Dodger

I touch many heads, because I like to pat things

I worry about what people see

I cry when people don't see

I am a quiet silly girl

I understand Harry Potter

I say let your sunshine out

I dream about boys and breakfast

I try to draw a straight bow

I hope I can shine salt and light

I am a quiet silly girl.

~

The second is a love letter to my favorite food. Some stanzas are a mystery even to me, but the overall eggy-ness is conveyed!

Ode to the Egg

I. Tender white,

hold me tight,

love yolk.

II. Oh, yummy orb,

you brim with vitamins

and bounceability.

III. At daylight's hunger call

little brother weeped

for I ate his egg.

IV. Sweet tomago,

you sit upon my sushi

with seaweed as your obi.

V. My ears bleed

from the screechy jerking

of the omelette skillet.

VI. Elipse, eclipse!

Bring about the night

for I am sleepy.

VII. I once had a friend

named Egg,

who lacked hair.

VIII. What goes up white,

and comes down

yellow and white?

IX. Poor trans

cannot compare

to the mighty Omega!

X. Before dyeing,

blow those innards

far away.

XI. As I carry my lunch,

I cradle the thin-shelled

container of life.

XII. Coagulator!

Meringues and the food of angels

are formed at your beating.

XIII. The head of hair

sinks into the

souffle-like pillow.

Ta-da! Welcome to the wonderful mess that is my mind!