You like the water so much that you could be a fish
We're right by the ocean so you can go dipping any old time that you wish
We'll watch the sunset, make love in the old lifeguard stand
When the setting is done, and we've lost the sun, we will nap on a blanket of sand
We can walk on water, dance in the light of the moon
Honey, just me and you

i had an interesting night last night.  interesting might not even be the word to cover it. enlightening.  eye-opening, maybe.  amazing.

in 6 years, i'll talk about it.

until then, secrets are mine to keep.

<3

well, i was turned down from SickSpits.  this was somewhat expected, but still comes as a disappointment.  i was actually thinking about emailing them this week to politely decline their invitation.  their implication that i should change my style to better fit the "hip hop roots" of spoken word was ridiculous - i don't need to change to fit a certain genre to feel accomplished as a poet and spoken word artist.

for now, i'll keep writing poetry just for myself, no one else.

i'm being stroked by a spaniard.  feels quite nice.  stop reading over my shoulder, robbie.

daddy's ghost behind you 

sleeping dog beside you 

you're a poem of mystery 

you're the prayer inside me 

spoken words like moonlight 

you're the voice that i like 

needlework & seedlings 

in the way you're walking 

to me from the timbers 

faded from the winter

ack.  ich vermisse Berlin.  die Leute, die Gebäude, die romantische Atmosphäre.  ich will eine Zigarette und eine Tasse Tee haben....und vielleicht ein gründlich Mann .... ne..

kürtzlich habe ich mehr auf deutsch gedacht, aber wenn ich sprechen will, kann ich nichts sagen.  ich kann alle die Wörter in meinem Kopf sehen, aber es ist ganz schwer deutsch zu sprechen.  trotzt brauche ich mehr üben..

ich habe am Freitag mit ein paar Freunden bei Delta getroffen, und es war schön, weil wir haben zusammen getrunken und über alles diskutieren - auf deutsch, naturlich.  aber manchmal sind wir ein bisschen faul, und in die erste fünf Minuten sprechen wir perfektes deutsch, aber kurz danach...englisch.  meh.

alle meine Freundinen haben jetzt "boy problems".  Eine hat ihrer Beziehung beendet, und sie war sehr traurig darauf, weil sie hat nicht die besondere Gründe warum versteht.  es ist Frühling, und es wird schön sein, ein Freund zu haben...aber ich suche ein nicht.  zu viele Probleme, zu viel Drama.  nein, danke.  

ok ok.

frühstück jetzt!

you were a bird andi was the tree branchyou were a paint brush and i was your two hands
scribbled that down sitting at delta yesterday watching the most beautiful girl from LA singing cute indie folk songs.  i've got this happy little heart (nice change of pace from yesterday afternoon) and i'm content just writing obnoxiously adorable quotes down in my journal.  even if no one ever receives them, it's enough just to let them leave my hands.
my transfer paperwork was signed and approved and come summer i'll be making my home at the downtown davis starbucks!  no more drive through, no more horrible management, no more ridiculous drive through!  a fresh start is exactly what i need and now that everything's approved i'm just itching to get started...
so.  things that are coming up:
- 3 more papers due (two short responses, one long final paper)- 2 more psychology midterms (seriously?  seriously.)- finals week, which will surely take a good portion of my life from me.- SUMMER.  which means....Principles of Criticism!- moving in September 1st :-D- lots of trips to San Francisco, writing poetry and letters, spending time with my friends who will all soon move on to bigger and better things.
i just need to school to be done for a while.  i'm far too busy studying gerund verb phrases and infinitive noun clauses so that i don't fail english grammar to work on the number of painting projects i have piled up, or to tackle the books i've been putting off reading until summer.  i need time to do frivolous things.
soon.  soon.countdown!

i need people not to be such utter bastards, please.  it doesn't work into my plan for happy and harmonious living.

case in point:  i show up downtown, see a couple of my friends chilling, smoking.  hellos are exchanged and i pull up a seat.  they all stop talking.  look at eachother, not at me.  two minutes pass and they ALL get up and leave.  i remain.  

why on earth would you get up a leave, just to go sit somewhere else at the SAME restaurant?  seriously?  i know i put on deodorant this morning; i don't fucking stink.  do i have that little to offer interactions that you'd rather just pack up and leave then chill with me?

people are utter fucktards.  i'm endlessly grateful to the ones that i do have in my life who do things to better my circumstances.  i was told last night by a friend of mine that i have enriched his life, and my heart soared.

they keep walking by and refusing to make eye contact.  it would be nice to know what i did...

if you were anywhere near the lake in the arboretum around 1:30 today, you would have had the extreme pleasure of seeing me and 15 other kids wearing giant sunglasses and funny hats come screaming down the hill into the grass.  i got to make such a fantastic fool of myself, filming the Valkyrie scenes for our movie.  Even better, though, were the looks of combined disgust and bewilderment from all the art students trying to sketch the lake.  (Which, come on...a lake?  You couldn't pick something that isn't just a circle?  Challenges, people, challenges.)

It was strange; I have such a hard time little myself look stupid, but knowing that everyone else looked ridiculous around me made it a little easier.  Apparently, on film I look like a "female John Cleese - in movement, not appearance".  I guess when you're screaming "Heiatahoo!", waving your arms above your head and leaping through the air wearing nothing but a tank top and little booty shorts, you have no choice but to look ridiculous.  I'm OK with that.

I am lacking in creative motivation.  Sleep is imminent.  Tomorrow will be errands that I've been putting off for weeks and weeks, and coffee in Davis, and potential networking, and other beautiful pursuits.  Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll work on a poem - but right now, everything I'm writing down sounds really trite and forced.  Maybe it's because I'm trying to rhyme, because rhyme sounds more "slam"... Not my thing.

standing on the street corner

cross eyed and tongue tied i'm

selling stories of my childhood to

any stranger looking to be inspired

shaking my cup made of blank folded pages

i'm waiting to hear the drop of crumpled spare changes

not copper, but loose words and bent phrases

...

To be continued?

i pinched a nerve last night in my sleep.  at first i just had to be careful not to turn my head too fast to the right, but now the pain's progressed to the point where i can't turn my head to the left or right and if i bend it downward, pain shoots up into the back of my skull.  it's so persistant and sharp that i've been on the verge of throwing up for most of the afternoon.  both my shoulders are aching because i've been so tense, focusing on not moving too sharply or quickly.

i'm wondering how i'm gonna sleep tonight, let alone function at 9 AM tomorrow when i have to be back at work.  :-(

but, i have brie and sharp cheddar on apples, and dane cook is about to come on comedy central, so i guess life's not all bad, eh?

hello all!  here marks my first venture into the word of blogger.  previously, i had my corner of the internet over at my livejournal but i figured since i don't know anyone on my friends list, and i only use that account to frivolously peruse communities, i might as well make a blog here where i can post "legit" writing.  read:  here is where i can be pretentious and talk about my own work like it's something worth talking about.  fun for everyone!

so, to mark the first post, i'd like to explain about the title of my blog:  the colour of love.  the quote (and image) comes from my favorite movie ever in the history of cinema, Disco Pigs.  It appeals to both my immense love of all things Irish and my immense love of Cillian Murphy's eyes.  Mmmm....

But, I digress.  The sweetest scene takes place in the movie where the two characters are holding hands through a hole they made in their wall.  (they live in side by side houses, and their rooms are side by side, and they fall asleep holding hands through the wall.  It's adorable.  Seriously.)

Runt:  What's the colour of love?

Pig: What sort of love, love?

Runt:  Dunno.  You know how things, they got a colour?  I wonder what the colour of love is...

Pig:  Jesus, Runt!  You could read a thousand textbooks and never know the answer to that quiz!

Runt:  It'd be a good one, though...

I don't know why I like it.  Never gave much thought to the deeper meaning, just that it filled me with a childlike happy.  The idea that love has a colour makes it tangible.  I think the colour of love is the swirling creamy brown that you see when you add soy milk to your coffee in the morning.  That's my love - sitting at Delta when it's still cool, having the first smoke of the day, sipping coffee.  Maybe if my love affair were with a person and not a restaurant the colour of love would be yellow, sunshine and warmth, or pink, skin flushed and sticky damp.  Maybe.  

What's your colour?

<3