Easy Dreaming, Girl

Caution

2011-04-18T11:55:00.000-07:00

"care taken to avoid danger or mistakes"

This post is in the wrong place. It should be present on a page that has an elephant in one corner and a brightly colored title with a photograph I took on my first [adult] trip to India in 2009.

Incense and Ankle Bells. It's a phrase that, quite literally, goes back to my childhood - back to the time I first took a breath of Indian air - back when I was 18 months old.

& yet this post isn't there. It's here, on my first blog, which has been dormant for quite some time. Like a once hot nightclub that receded into the shadow of an even greater venue, I stopped writing on this blog as all my passion was directed towards being in, discovering and writing about India on Incense and Ankle Bells.

I've loved writing on that blog and sharing my experiences with all those who've read along, and yet I've decided not to continue. The reason why can be answered first with a question that's been posed to me on more than one occasion.

"What don't you like about India?"

Usually, I can't think of anything beyond domulu (mosquitoes) and the dust - & even those two things I'm willing to deal with. But I've experienced another aspect of India which, no matter how I try to justify it, just isn't ok... & a couple of recent incidents have made me anxious enough to remove all I've written 'til date.

There is a serious lack of ethics here when it comes to taking another person's ideas. As an individual who attended schools that teach and teach and teach and teach the seriousness of plagiarism and copyright infringement, the thought that someone would take what I write never really crossed my mind - that is, it did enough for me to copyright all of my posts - but for the most part, I've always assumed everyone else would have the same view as me.

Clearly I was forgetting that this is India, not America. Here's a country where countless movies and songs are altered versions of films and tunes from The West. I even wrote a paper on this while I was in college, and in fact, just recently I've witnessed it at work and there was some to-do about a song (I can't remember the name) that's a blatant imitation of Michael Jackson's "You Are Not Alone."

There are even stores which change their name ever-so-slightly as to be "different" but are clearly aiming at a store that's already in existence. Take Creamstone for example. Ironically, the ice cream specialties they offer are nearly identical to those you'll find at Coldstone, a popular ice cream parlor in the US. The adapted name doesn't even make sense!

The belief here seems to be that India is too far removed - too far away - for anyone to notice or care that an idea's been lifted. And I'm sure there are many that have been and it's true, it hasn't been noticed at all (but even that's a lame excuse, ethically speaking. It shouldn't matter whether the original creator "knows" or not).

But like so many other things, having one foot in America and one foot in India allows me to see it. So, I know. & what will happen as the world continues to focus more on India? It won't be quite so "far away" anymore, and then it will surely be noticed that the country is filled with thieves.

I'm always shocked when I inquire as to this practice and someone says to me they don't have the creative talent here to think these things up on their own. How can that be possible? How, in a country filled with so much beauty, so much art and poetry, culture and history - a place Mark Twain has called "the most extraordinary country on earth" - how can they not have creativity?!

I'm left thinking that must not be the case. There's no lack of creativity here, but rather, a surplus in laziness. Or, perhaps those who do have the talent don't have the means or connections to put that talent to use. Either way it's a shame. This is perhaps the harshest criticism I've given India 'til date, but I think it's justified.

Now, back to my blog. Recently, an individual got in contact with me after discovering my writing by chance and being "out of words" to describe how he felt after reading it. He was in fact so enthralled that only a couple of days after first getting in touch he asked if I would be alright with his using what I wrote on my blog and turning it into a movie - he's a struggling director.

He said my writing gave him all these visuals that could be made into a film - I responded by saying that's what good writing is supposed to do. When I write, my aim is to paint an image for those who are reading. With my family and friends in mind, I've tried to make it so they'll feel as though they're right along side me as I adventure here in India, experiencing the same things I do. So while I'm happy I seem to achieve that goal, I was not happy that he worded it in such a way as to say "I read what you wrote and now I'm 'seeing' these possibilities for a movie."

After telling him that's not a question I could answer on the spot, and gently mentioning I had copyrights for everything I'd written, he said "watch you get an invite to a movie [in the future], then go and realize it's your blog!"

It was said jokingly, but considering India's track record and my recent awareness and discussions regarding the theft of ideas here, it was a joke in poor taste. I feel it necessary to add that he hasn't taken anything yet, and perhaps he never would. He seems extremely nice, but that's not the point. We're airing on the side of caution here, posting things on the internet is a risk anyways, and the conversation left me wondering "what if..."

Incense and Ankle Bells is the story of my experiences, and along with that, it's also a trove of ideas for my future books - as a writer (soon to be published author), my words are my work. It should come as no surprise that I'm currently writing another novel (well, two simultaneously actually), the setting of which is India. So what if all I've so passionately written about here were to be lifted then turned into some film? Then, when my book, about my experiences (or based off of them at least) comes out it would appear as though the book was based on the movie based on the blog. That's backwards, and would definitely not be okay. Now, if some hollywood studio decided to take my book and turn THAT into a movie down the road, then maybe we'd be celebrating instead. But I'm a writer. That's what I do - I write. & so my books come first.

Perhaps some might think I'm overreacting and being too cautious. Until now I've loved it when some random individual would write to me and say I've inspired them or caused them to look at their culture or India in general in a new light, full of appreciation. But I can't risk someone with the mentality that it's okay to take another persons ideas and make them their own, taking my words, my story - my ideas.

Before deciding to make Incense and Ankle Bells private, I shared my worries with a couple of trusted individuals. Their reaction was, without hesitation, to take it down. They said what I've just said. & so it's been decided.

I'm so thankful for all the reader's I've had - all the people who I know would never dream of doing the above - and I hope you'll keep in touch. With my first novel soon to be released, my publisher will be setting up an author website as well as a Facebook page before long, and I hope you'll all connect with me there.

& then, when the novel that takes place in this beautiful country, where I love ALMOST everything, comes out, I hope you'll read it and remember all the adventures we've shared together on Incense and Ankle Bells :)

Thanks for reading - and understanding!

A Bed Of Roses

2011-01-07T21:24:00.000-08:00

All along you thought it was a bed of roses

But you’ve been accepting lies like flowers

Drenched in the scent of deceit

Well soon they’ll wilt

And then you’ll see

As you look upon the faded color

That beauty was nothing

A scam

The blooms that glow with a colorful hue

Are only to blind from the truth

They charm you with petals

Of bright silken tints

So wondrous you never look past them

Well the petals will fall

And those thorns will remain

Pricking your heart with a sharpness

A pain

Stay tuned...

2010-02-19T10:52:00.000-08:00

For a "return" from India and a revamping of the page that started it all... looking towards the future :)

Autumn

2009-09-20T10:08:00.000-07:00

"the season between summer and winter comprising in the northern hemisphere usually the months of September, October, and November or as reckoned astronomically extending from the September equinox to the December solstice - called also fall"

It's not a very eloquent definition for a season filled with poetic possibilities, but that doesn't matter for anyone who's ever experienced fall in New England - they already know the magic that accompanies the crisp air and the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet. They're familiar with the striking contrast of a bright blue sky with pristine white clouds and trees whose tops have transformed from the deep green of summer to brilliant hues of orange, red and yellow - as if God decided to set the forests ablaze. Someone who's experienced fall will understand the comfort that comes with scarves and cozy sweaters, hands wrapped around a cup of warm cider (or perhaps the delicious pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks). They'll thrill in the thought of going to an autumn festival or apple picking, their tastebuds yearning for a slice of homemade pie (apple, pumpkin, pecan...).

If you know Autumn, you know of all these things, and you know about transition - one season to the next. Summer disappearing in the rearview mirror as a "Welcome to Fall" sign appears ahead. If you know Autumn, you know about change. The only constant. A companion you can rest assured will never leave.

It seems fitting that the post which brings me back to my jottings on "Easy Dreaming, Girl" is connected to change, with both the seasons and myself.

As I sit here inhaling the autumn breeze that's drifting in through my open window, I can't help but think about how very different - how changed - I am from the girl who last posted 9 months ago. I know most of the changes are for the better. But others I'm still trying to grasp, as I feel some of my friends and even family are too.

I was uncertain then, when I wrote that final post sitting in a hostel in India. There's no way I could have known at that moment all of the experiences I would be handed - all of the adventures (you can read about them here). The wonderful, spectacular, beautiful, sometimes painstaking moments. I couldn't have known that an entire country would take hold of my heart and refuse to give it back, even when I reluctantly boarded a plane 5 months later with teardrops stinging my eyes.

To say I haven't changed would be a completely deluded thought on my part. I'm more contemplative now. I feel content in some ways, yet discontented in others. Things I considered fun before don't strike a bit of interest and vice versa. There are even certain relationships I no longer feel the same about - people who's tastes are too different. It's harder for me to be okay with immature actions. I think I view things from a steadier standpoint.

I guess it's just that I entered one airport a young adult and stepped out of another grown. "More responsible" comes to mind - budgeting, caring for myself, grocery shopping (with a well thought out list!), trying to solve problems on my own without running to my mother... so many little things that add up to a changed person, one that even friends and family have commented on.

Sometimes the change in me is frustrating. Things would be easier if I could just enjoy the activities I used to, or spend time with the same people and find their company as pleasing as before. But change doesn't stop for anyone. The seasons will always come and go. Summer fades to fall and fall cools to winter. Then winter warms with spring, whose gentle touch prepares for summer once again. The changing seasons, working seemlessly together, help remind me that change doesn't really mean I'm not the same person I was before. Summer is still summer even though it switches into fall. The impending transition doesn't make summer fake.

I'm still the same girl, even though the seasons of my life have altered. Keeping that in mind helps me remember who I am as a whole, and who I am as a whole is a collection of all my views in the past, my views today and my views to come. Four seasons make a single year. All of the seasons of my life make a single person. So when I'm worried being grown means I can no longer believe in fairy tales and princesses, shooting stars and butterflies, looking out my window at the Autumn sunshine helps me remember.

Hiatus

2008-12-30T00:19:00.000-08:00

"a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series, action, etc."

I did it. I made it through three flights, a ten and a half hour time difference, giving up Starbucks and going a day without much sleep or a shower (things I never do). The result? I'm currently sitting in a lounge with pale blue walls and cool tile floors. Outside, the sky is bright blue and the warm December sun is filtering down on the beautiful flowers and vibrant greenery. The temperature, which reads "82 degrees" is a far cry from a snow filled New England day. Is it global warming? Thankfully, no.

I'm currently sitting with 27 other daring individuals in Hyderabad, India. It is here that i'll be learning the ropes (if that's even possible...) of this contradictory and painstakingly beautiful country.

I arrived on the 28th and will be here until next May, and as such, my time is going to be sufficiently occupied with an attempt to immerse myself in this remarkable culture and do my best to keep from becoming ridiculously overwhelmed.

I'd like to say I'll keep posting on this blog as frequently as I had been, but I know that's not likely to happen - especially since I've started up a separate blog for everyone to "follow" along as I venture on this escapade.

I hope you won't all give up on me, as I'll do my best to update occasionally and will surely "return to my regularly scheduled programing" once I fly back to The States.

Until then, I hope you'll join me at www.incenseandanklebells.com and experience India right alongside me.

Happy New Year!

XOXO

Heartfelt

2008-12-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

"deeply or sincerely felt"

Christmas is nearly upon us, and looking back at the holidays of years past, I've been able to make an observation about the types of Christmases I end up having. They can, in a broad sense, be divided into two categories; labels and hearts.

Being a girl who enjoys both the lavish & the simple things in life, I can't lie and say I'm not a fan of the first type. Labels. These are the Christmases where, for one reason or another, Santa places gifts under the tree with such familiar colors and patterns as Tiffany Blue, the pink stripes of Victoria's Secret or the familiar "C's" of Coach. Or, for the guys, perhaps a PS3 or a new cell phone. And for some reason, even though no conversation is supposed to have happened between the various gift-givers, nearly the entire family ends up buying a gift that falls under the above titles. It's sort of like the way a person yawns, and then, even though you could swear you didn't see that person do it, you yawn yourself! So it ends up being a Christmas where friends and family alike exchange giftcards and goodies of the more lavishly-labeled caliber.

Then there are the Christmases of hearts. If you can't appreciate and truly love a Christmas of hearts, it may be time to reevaluate your feelings and understanding of the holiday. While labels are lovely, and take a justified amount of thought (and money), a Christmas of hearts is like... the roots of the holiday. They require thought and time and all of the things the holiday is supposed to be about. Love, laughter, memories, family & friends. & the resulting gifts couldn't ever be replicated by some well-known store.

Of course, it's possible to have a combination of both types, with gifts straight from the heart and straight from the nearest Macy's - and that's just fine and dandy. But I think, if you're missing gifts from the second category, well, you're missing a large part of Christmas. To me, that's what makes a big difference between a commercialized holiday and a holiday meant to thread us all together like a string of popcorn and cranberries - a holiday meant to allow the warm glow of magic and merriment to foster and grow into a blaze of faith and wonder.

This year, I'm having a Christmas of hearts <3

Before I left school my friends and I had a holiday party where we exchanged Secret Santa gifts. & I have to say, the gift I received was heartfelt enough to make me cry. It was a scrapbook that fit my personality perfectly (Fairy tale themed of course) and was filled with photos of my life as it has been this past semester, as it is with the start of my adventure in India, and as it will be "Happily Ever After" when we're all together again next year.

Then there were the trinkets from other family members and friends that came in the mail and mean so much to me that I can't even describe the feelings. One friend, who I frequently (pretty much daily) went out for coffee with, gave me an ornament shaped like a coffee cup from our favorite place for a latte, knowing full well that we wouldn't be grabbing a cup together for quite some time.

There was a beautiful piece of jewelry intended to remind me of my independence and strength, and cards from a cousin meant to remind me of the way she will always think of me a princess, and anything related to fairy tales and Disney reminds her of me.

And then there was the surprise package for my sister and me from my Aunt, filled with doilies hand-made by the grandmother I never got to meet. "I enjoyed looking after them for the past few decades" she explained in the accompanying note, "but now I know they're where they belong."

The tears that kept sparkling down my cheeks in response to these gifts were coupled with feelings of complete love and happiness. I'm surrounded by people who know me. Who love me. Who take the time to give gifts that encompass who I am, what I believe in, the things I love and the things I dream. And these gifts, more than any gift with a designer label or from the top half of the "Most Coveted Gifts 2008" list reach deep down and positively fill me to the brim with the hot-cocoa-warm-feelings of the holiday as is should be - a time filled with love, faith, hope, joy, dreams, and the belief in all that came before us and all that lays ahead of us.

XOXO

Memory

2008-12-19T10:26:00.000-08:00

"the mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, etc., or of recalling or recognizing previous experiences."

I discovered the power of memories yesterday. Well, I've always reveled in the beauty of them, but yesterday, as I hugged some of my closest friends for the last time until the summer and looked around my campus for the final time until fall, I realized how important they were going to be for me over the next few months.

I tried really hard not to cry. I just finished mentioning my usual lack-of-tears, so, as of yesterday, you can call me a liar. I made it to about an hour before I was set to leave. I made it past lunch, and the tears of my friends as we saw some of the seniors who wouldn't be there when we returned. But still my cheeks kept dry. I made it through a trip with my friend A, and heading back to my dorm.

I made it.

That is, until I went to Starbucks with a different love, M, and a song came on about life being like a slideshow.

That's when it started to hit me that I wouldn't be driving on these streets, or sitting next to this person, or going to this particular place for quite some time. And when I got back, certain people would be gone - I'd never pass them on the way to a class or eat lunch with them or go out with them on the weekends. & that's when it happened.

Crystal tears welled up in the corner of my eyes despite my bravest battle against them. I kept my eyes straight ahead as they started to silently slide down my cheeks, completely ignoring my internal protestations. So much for my front.

Moments later, M piped up from beside me "It's starting to hit me." We turned to look at each other and couldn't help but laugh as we realized we had both quietly started crying.

Well, that was it. The leak in the wall you can't close up. After that I went through 3 different sets of hysterics as I left some of the best people I've ever met. This may seem extremely emotional, but, I'm serious when I say I'm not one to cry at every little instance. THAT was not a lie. So I can only justify the tears by saying that I am the luckiest individual around, because I'm blessed with a group of friends who are truly remarkable - and therefore, dreadfully difficult to leave.

So now, it's me and my memories. "God gave us memory so we could have roses in winter." Well, I've got a hold on them and they aren't going anywhere until I'm back with the people I love best to make new ones. Every laugh, every joke, every meal, every trip, every bit of drama, every ounce of love and support, every dance party, mistake, hug, drive, coffee, gift, song, movie, day, night, nap, tear, walk and conversation. They're all here. & they're what keeps me going.

Now and forever - in the case of my friends at college, and my life in general. For the people I have and the people I've lost. The places I've been, the places that are gone. The sights and sounds of my past. The moments that were cut short, the experiences that ended before they should have, feelings, smells, holidays, happiness, sorrow... I've got my memories. & until I can have my actual roses once again, they'll have to be the next best thing.

Happy Friday

XOXO

Goodbye

2008-12-16T08:08:00.000-08:00

"farewell; a conventional expression used at parting"

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that word? Seriously. I know it's irrational, & I like to think "hate" isn't a word that frequents my vocabulary , but the sound, the meaning... the permanence. I can't handle it - I hate it. To me, the word feels like an iron clad deal. Goodbye. That's it. Done with. Over. I don't much like "farewell" either, although at least that has more of a romantic ring to it.

You could say it traces back to the separation anxiety that used to throw me into hysterics as a kid, or the scene from the Disney movie The Fox and the Hound where Tod is left in the woods on a rainy day with those heart-wrenching lyrics playing in the background.

"Goodbye may seem forever more

farewell is like the end

but in my heart there's memories

and there you'll always be."

It gets me every time. & either way, I'm simply not a fan. Say "see you later," "tootles," "in a while crocodile," "ciao," "au revior," occasionally even "bye" is acceptable - but never goodbye. Don't you dare say that to me. If you do, I may change course and hang on to you with tear-filled eyes instead of actually leaving. Dramatic, I know, but that's how it is. Think about it. Almost every climactic moment in a movie or book uses the permanence of "goodbye" to solidify a moment when two individuals think they're not going to see each other again. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy would be a prime example. She says "goodbye" to him after sharing some news that could potentially ruin her respectability, and once he leaves the room she murmurs "I shall never see him again." Terrible.

With finals almost done and a ticket sitting in my desk that will get me on a plane in 10 days headed halfway around the world (only about 8,000 miles...) tears are starting to fall and the sound of goodbyes threatens to permeate the air. Don't. Do. It.

I've discovered that in order to deal with the separation, I just have to lie to myself.

"I'll see you next weekend Sam!"

"What? No you won't, you won't see me until next..."

"I SAID, See you NEXT WEEKEND."

"Hey I just wanted to say I hope you have a good holiday"

"Um, what? Why would you tell me that? It's not like I won't see you..."

"Er...?"

"Right. I'll see you in a few days."

Just go with it people. Please. For my sake.

I can see the departure at the airport already.

"Okay family. So I'll see you in a little while. Just let me fly on over to India real quick (5 months fast...), get a glimpse of the place and then I'll be back."

One of my brothers will probably make some sarcastic remark and then break out the-word-that-shall-not-be-said. It'll probably play out like one of the scenes from the Matrix where everything slows down. He'll start to utter it, and I'll drop my bags and leap through the air to cover his mouth with my hand.

"No way Mister. I don't think so."

Then, as I confidently stroll away with the knowledge I'll be back after "a quick trip" you'll witness a girl walking with her back straight and her resolve strong - headed off towards a new adventure. I like to think I do a pretty good job playing it off like I'm a ridiculously independent individual who screams "Watch out World, here I come!" at the top of her lungs.

But that's only half of it. While I truly do have an insatiable desire to learn, see, experience and do anything and everything that I can, there's the other side to me - the little girl who breaks at the thought of goodbye and being separated from those that she loves.

From behind, you'll see a girl who doesn't look back. No regrets. But there's another reason I never turn around for a last glimpse of my family. If I were to do that, everyone would see, plain as day, that most of my resolve disappeared the moment I turned away. You'd see the fearless facade dissipate, and the tears start to fall as I finally let myself dwell on the fact that the lies I told myself and others were just that - lies. I really am leaving. I really am going. They really are gone.

The drop of the stomach, the shaky breaths, the battle against watery eyes, the doubts that cloud the excitement... they all fall down at that moment, crushing the wall of strength that was built up so carefully.

That's when you start dwelling on the "what-ifs." I know it's all about fate and positive thinking, but still, did I remember to say I love you to everyone? Did I get over my silly evasion of certain hugs and just hold on tight? I haven't spoken to him in weeks... what if I never see him again? What if I don't like it over there? Did I remember to make my bed? Pet the dog? Grab those photos? Call my best friend?

I'm not a fan of that feeling. & while I know, for the most part, it will eventually lighten as the journey continues and memories stay strong and you know somewhere deep within that you're overreacting and you'll eventually be back - I prefer postponing it for as long as possible.

So please, don't say goodbye.

XOXO

Rice Noodles

2008-12-13T20:20:00.000-08:00

"Noodles that are made from rice. Their typical ingredients are rice flour and water, however, sometimes other ingredients such as tapioca or corn starch are added..." (go figure)

I spent some time with a friend this evening, *attempting* to write a paper. It didn't work out too well, and after falling asleep for a few minutes, I gave up and decided I wanted to spend my night snuggled under some blankets with Piper and Molly (note: stuffed bunny & puppy), a rice noodle soup bowl and a comfy movie. Never mind that it's a Saturday, and the last one of the semester at that.

So my lovely friend graciously drove me back to my dorm to prevent a chilly walk in the crisp 18 degree air (she's an amazing individual who certainly deserves a post or two in her honor) . Well, naturally, only moments after reaching my room I realize I left my recently purchased and promptly desired soup at her place.

Being the proactive individual that I am (most of the time) I slipped my shoes back on and headed out for a cold walk after all. I'd be damned if I didn't get what I wanted.

Retrieving the soup was an easy enough success, and once I became adjusted to the air (or simply numb...) I started doing what always seems to happen when it's just me and nature. I started to calm down. I started to think, but my thoughts came at a lazy, tranquil pace instead of garbled and rushed like they've been lately.

I heard the ocean in the distance, and a brief pang of sadness hit me as I realized I'd be leaving this place in less then one week, on a grand adventure no less, but in a place guaranteed to be significantly different, and lacking the magnificent ocean as a backyard.

Instead of heading back to the cozy confines of my room, I followed the sound, almost as if I was being pulled the same way the tide did the waves. I know I didn't visit the ocean enough this semester. I didn't go for quiet walks enough either, or my nightly runs. I have no doubt those are the main reasons this semester was, while wonderful the majority of the time, a stressful rollercoaster at others. I gave up my therapy. Tonight, I was going to bring it back.

I walked towards the vast expanse in a darkness that wasn't really dark at all - lit up as it was by a giant moon in the crisp, clear sky. I glanced upward, breathing deeply and scanning the heavens - and that's when I saw the first one. A bright star went shooting past in front of me - I smiled and wished - ridiculously happy at the glimmer of light that seemed to shine just for me.

The sounds of other students faded away as I continued towards the ocean. Soon it was just me and the sea. I stood there for a while, alternating between a scan of the sky and leisurely watching the waves roll in and out. As the moon threw its light across the surface, the water sparkled as if it were a mirror of above. I watched and thought, and watched and thought, and relaxed to the rhythm of the sea. And suddenly, in a moment of complete clarity, I knew that everything was going to be alright. I was alright. The worries of the past weeks, the conflicts I'd been feeling, the crazy ranges of emotion... they just slipped away. & just as that clarity reached me, my eyes moved towards the sky again and another shooting star flew reassuringly by - as if to say, "That's right. You've got it." I had to smile at that. So I did, as I made my second wish with the waves dancing in front of me and the stars above twinkling like a million mischievous winks.

Not long after, groups of students began passing on the street, likely leaving one party for the next. As the boisterous laughter of the guys and the high-pitched squealing of the girls reached my ears, I found myself unbelievably annoyed at the interruption of my silence. And yet, at the same time, I almost felt like laughing, because in that moment, as I heard some girls cuss and a raucous comment from some guy, I realized in another perfect moment (two shooting stars, two lessons?), I'm done.

As I finally left my reverie and headed back to my place, my feelings had me in a daze. I was smiling as I walked, but the pure, complete clarity and understanding I felt almost made me cry. And I thought,

I'm done trying to be like the majority of you [college kiddos]. I'm ashamed that I let myself get caught up in the game, believing the "experience" meant pouring liquor down my throat and acting with abandon. But I'm done now. I'm going back to being me. I lost hold of the rope for a while, but its in my grasp again. "I've got the world on a string" and I won't let it slip away.

I don't want to be one of the girls who stumble down the street with their hazy eyes fixed on some equally hazy guy or the road in front of them in an attempt not to trip. & I don't want to get involved with guys who have no concept of what it means to be a gentleman and can't look past the next girl, the next weekend, the next drink... I'm done. While your drunken gazes are fixed on each other and making mistakes you'll regret the next day but make again next Friday, my eyes are taking in the ocean and the sky. I get to notice the shooting stars, the moon, the ocean, the glimmer, the life... while you miss it all, completely oblivious.

As those stars shot by, the most unbelievable feeling of comfort, clarity and joy enveloped me and continues to fill me up at this very moment. I feel whole again. I feel true. Everything is going to be alright.

Who knew a rice noodle soup bowl could do so much =]

XOXO

Rain

2008-12-10T11:06:00.000-08:00

"Water that is condensed from the aqueous vapor in the atmosphere and falls to earth in drops more than 1/50 in. (0.5 mm) in diameter."

Who knew there was such a specific definition for rainfall! I think I was waiting for something creative and romantic. "Cool droplets meant to provide the perfect setting for a kiss," "drops of water meant to form puddles for jumping," "angel's tears," "something you sing in."

Condensed vapor larger than 1/50 in. in diameter... I guess that goes to show that it's all in what you make of something. Who cares what the definition says. If you see rain as tragically beautiful instead of bothersome and wet - then that's what it becomes.

I do have to say though, considering today's date - I'd much rather it be my aforementioned snow falling to the ground. But what a great symbol for change! First it's blustery, cold and snowy - then it's 60 degrees and rainy. & tomorrow it will all be different once again. I suppose I should take that discrepancy to heart. Nothing lasts forever, and right now, If I apply that knowledge to situations which aren't so great in my book - it helps me keep the faith.

Nothing. lasts. forever.

Maybe you feel like you'll never laugh again. Inevitably, when you least expect it, someone or something will come along and make you smile. Then, before you realize it's happening - you're laughing.

Or perhaps you don't think you'll ever be able to make it through your struggles this time. Life is too much. It's too hard. But you keep walking. Unsure all the while, until one day, you look around and realize it's behind you - there's only blue skies up ahead.

Of course, this goes both ways. You may find yourself tumbling down from a high or coming across obstacles after your path has been clear for years. But like the tide rolls in and out, the seasons come and go, and rain turns into snow - it will change in time. Just give it time.

I know that thought can turn depressing if you apply it to things like love and happiness, but I think it's important to realize that these values, while ever changing like the rest of life, can in fact last. At least, that's what I have to believe. Spring will cause a flower to bloom while the summer sun will scatter its seeds. Autumn will cover them in a blanket of leaves and the winter a cover of snow. But, next year, as the sun softens the freeze and rain falls once again - those seeds will blossom to brand new heights. The good things in life - the best of the best - those are the things that will be ever changing and ever growing, but won't ever fully disappear. True love, true friendship, faith, hope & dreams - the rain might stop tomorrow, but those aspects will never cease to be. & if they do - if they honestly end, then they weren't real in the first place.

I think I'm writing the above more for my benefit than anything else. I have to believe in what I wrote. I just have to. If I stop believing, I'm afraid I'll start accepting the practical definition of life. I'll lose sight of rain as a setting for singing and puddle jumping. I can't let that happen. No matter what.

So here's to forever thinking of rain as angel kisses and the good things that last through the seasons.

XOXO

Snowflake

2008-12-09T07:26:00.000-08:00

"one of the small, feathery masses or flakes in which snow falls"

What a charming definition that is - "small, feathery masses." They truly are. Snowflakes are like mini clouds. Or tiny tuffs of dandelion that got stuck in heaven and froze on the way back down. Fairy pillows. Or, when they land on lips and cheeks - angel kisses.

There's a reason Maria calls "snowflakes that land on my nose and eyelashes" one of her favorite things in The Sound of Music.

I know they're cold, and I know they can cause a few headaches in the form of shoveling and slippery roads, but I can't help but positively love them. The magic of nature never ceases to amaze me - and when the first snowfall occurs, I rush outdoors in an attempt to catch the first feathery mass of the season on my tongue.

They can be so beautiful (before the plows come and muddy it all up that is). & they make me stop and live. When I'm at home and my mother asks me to shovel the drive, there's a reason besides laziness for my hesitation (although that's probably part of it). I want to enjoy the tiny jewels before I scurry to sweep them away like a dirty little secret. Sometimes I wonder if the men who drive the plows, and make money by ridding the roads of snow, ever look at the sparkling blanket and think "Gee, this is gorgeous." If they don't they probably should. At least for a brief minute. It seems a shame to try and melt away God's glimmering creation before wondering at it's beauty for a moment or two. & I must say, a good snowball fight equals quite a bit of fun and therapy (No hidden rocks allowed).

We had our first snowfall over the weekend, and I'm always amazed at how well my friends & family know me. I seem to have this inherent belief that no one listens to what I say. Perhaps it's because I'm capable of talking quite a bit. As Anne Shirley puts it "I know I chatter on far too much, but if you only knew the things I want to say but don't. Give me some credit!" But either way, apparently they listen when I gush on about snow. Even though I was home for the weekend, I received numerous texts from friends at school on Sunday informing me about the "SNOW!! <3"

Luckily, I knew we'd be getting some in my town as well, thanks to family members who like to fuel my excitement. "It's supposed to snow tonight, you know" I was told on Saturday evening. I did of course. & the next day I ran to the window and pulled back the curtain like a kid hoping to find a wonderland that meant no school. Alas, it was only an inch or so, but it was enough to make me smile with delight.

This is the perfect time to listen to song #3 on my playlist... Dean Martin's "Marshmallow World." You can't go wrong with that voice or those lyrics. "It's a whipped cream day... I wait for it the whole year round!"

When we get our first Nor'easter... don't blame me (if you don't like snow that is). I've only been wishing for one nightly. Of course, if you do enjoy it, then by all means, thank me later =]

XOXO

Comfort

2008-12-03T19:40:00.000-08:00

"to soothe, console, or reassure; bring cheer to"

How many different forms of comfort are there in the world? They vary from person to person and place to place, but their purpose remains the same. Whether I'm being soothed with a cup of tea with honey, consoled with a nice long never-let-me-go kind of hug, or reassured with a gentle word. There's nothing like comfort.

And now, with the holiday season in full swing once again, I find myself turning to the kind of comfort that will "bring cheer." It isn't hard to do. My love for the holidays fills me up and spills over like a mug of hot cocoa - with marshmallows of course.

And that's one of those comforts. There's something simply splendid about sipping hot cocoa on a cold winter's night. If all were perfect, snow would be gently falling outside. It would cover an already white ground with a fresh layer of glitter; trillions of tiny falling stars that shine in the luminance of the streetlights or the brightness pouring from the windows of nearby houses.

Then, lets not forget the sounds of a crackling fire in the background, or, perhaps the voice of Frank Sinatra crooning his Christmas songs. I'll take both.

The smell of pine from a tree covered in decorations spanning the decades, baked goods from the kitchen; peppermint, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar...

& there has to be laughter. Plenty of laughter, and smiles that light up a room.

I may not have all of those things right now, but I've got enough to get by until I head home. Hot cocoa and ol' blue eyes are my companions. Boundless laughter seeps from the amazing individuals I've got as friends, and the smell of pine floats up from a plug-in. Considering this is college, I think we've done a fine job keeping the cheer around. =]

If only it would snow...

And I know the rest is waiting for me in a familiar house a few hours away. & once I get there, you can be sure I'm going to gather all those comforts up and hold on to them tightly, until I start smiling so much my cheeks hurt. So much that I forget all of the troubles that have stolen my laughter as of late. So much that I stare around me in dream-like haze, like I'm

looking at the world through snow frosted glasses. I'm going to hold on to those comforts until I forget everything but days that are merry and bright.

and I'd wish the same for you, whatever your comforts may be <3

XOXO

Words

2008-12-01T20:32:00.000-08:00

First, I really have to say thank you - truly & genuinely, to anyone and everyone who has wished me well, offered me hope and told me to hang on. Whether I know you well or barely at all, it means a lot to me. Sincerely.

In the midst of all the chaos that I'm feeling, I found myself pouring out my thoughts through words (big surprise...) and the following bit of writing is the result. I hope, that by getting it out, talking about it, and having such an amazing support group, things will in fact get better in time, just like I've been told. Hopefully sooner than later - I really want to laugh again and feel like I mean it. Merci Beacoup mes amies, merci beacoup <3

She feels sick when she thinks of how she lost her way

She blinked and the sun disappeared

Fog rolled in, snuffing out the light of day

& she couldn't hold on to the things she held so dear

Searching in a darkness, wishing it weren't real

Spinning, spinning, falling faster

The permanence proven with a crystal tear

She dreams in nightmares and wakes with recollections

Breathes with a pain she's sure won't heal

She tries to grasp the rainbows from her past

the shooting stars that glittered like Princess Jewels

but she knows she's not the same

It's air she touches now

cold and vacant - nothing there

She has to find the person she used to be

turn back and face the true meaning of "me"

She can't get lost in the emptiness that echoes within

but she doesn't think she's strong enough

This dreary sky - darkened with sadness

missing the sun - it makes her hopeless

Where there was caution, now there's fear

She's worried she can't make her way back

worried she won't like what she sees

Will the door be shut against the bone chilling breeze?

It follows her now - swirling, screaming, rushing, reminding

billowing, biting, losing,

lost.

XOXO

Mistake

2008-11-30T12:23:00.000-08:00

"an error in action, calculation, opinion, or judgment caused by poor reasoning, carelessness, insufficient knowledge, etc."

I found myself debating whether I wanted the word of focus for this post to be "change" or "mistake." Both are extremely applicable - so much about me has seemed to change since I last wrote. In fact, a day after my talk of wishes something occured - a mistake if you will - that changed me irrevocably. As it is, I ended up deciding on "mistake." I feel as though change can certainly be applied in both a positive as well as negative light, and if I were to use it for the present post, it would be unfairly negative.

So mistake it is. You know, there used to be a lyric (I find myself frequently falling back to lyrics, or lines from books or verses from poems to explain something...it's amazing how they become a part of our lives; our thoughts, actions and emotions..but that's a topic for another day) that I spouted and took as a motto for living. It was about life, and how the singer, if he had a second chance, wouldn't change a thing. "It's made me all who I am inside" he croons. I thought I agreed with him. Wholeheartedly.

But I've come to realize that isn't the case. While I agree with songs about being thankful for simply being alive, I've come to see that I also agree with those songs and sonnets that do believe in regret, in remorse, in wishing they could have done something different.

Mistakes happen. & while some of them are small and help you grow, sometimes you make a mistake that's so huge, like a mountain you can't seem to move, that you wish with all your might, as tears come pouring down your cheeks, that you could change it.

I've finally been witness to - no, a part of - one such mistake. And now I feel empty. So unbelievably empty. I don't feel like the girl who believes in wishes and rainbows and a sun that's always shining even when it's cloudy. I feel like my inside would echo like a well; hollow, cavernous.

I've never cried so much before in my life. I feel as though I've lost a part of myself, and I won't ever get it back. I won't ever be the same. & I'm lost. It's like I'm dreaming in nightmares. And as I've always done before, I remind myself to breathe through it, I've tried to tell myself it will get better, and search for all the positive aspects of what happened. But it hasn't worked this time. I can only hope that it'll get better in time, but right now, this mistake makes it hard to even believe that as possible.

So yeah, mistakes happen. & I can say now, more then ever, that while all mistakes shouldn't be fussed over and turned into some dramatic production...sometimes mistakes happen that bring your world crashing down. And those mistakes, those collosal mistakes...it's okay to wish they never happened. To regret them with all of your might, and to pray as your tears soak your pillowcase that you'll wake up the next morning to discover it never happened.

I've learned it's okay to wish you had done things different. I know I do. So much so.

I believe in a new lyric now.

"Id've spent alot more time in the pouring rain without an umbrella - covering my head
and Id've stood up to that bully when he pushed and called me names - but I was too afraid
Id've gone on and saw Elvis that night he came to town - but mama said I couldn't
Id've went skinny dipping with Jenny Carson that night she dared me to - but I didnt
Oh I, Id've done alot of things different
I wish Id've spent more time with my dad when he was still alive - now I don't have the chance
and I wish I had told my brother how much I loved him before he went off to war - I just shook his hand
I wish Id've gone to church on a Sunday morning when my grandma begged me to - but I was afraid of god
I wish I woulda listened when they said "boy, you're gonna wish you hadn't" - but I wouldn't
Oh, Id've done alot of things different
People say they wouldn't change a thing

Oh, but I would..."

-Kenny Chesney

XOXO

DG

Wish

2008-11-19T15:53:00.000-08:00

"A desire, longing, or strong inclination for a specific thing."

Nowhere in that definition do I see the term "magical," and I can't help but thinking that's what a wish is. A wish is more than just a desire or a longing - for couldn't those terms be considered the same as "wanting?" And wishing is more then that. A wish happens when you take a desire, sprinkle it with pixie dust and send it off on the back of a shooting star, a clock face declaring 11:11 or the candles on a birthday cake.

If a wish were just a want, we wouldn't have any qualms sharing them with each other. But I know once my wish is made, it can't be told to another soul - I hold onto it tightly with secrecy, because if I tell, I'm sure it won't come true. Spilling a wish is like taking back the pixie dust, and all of a sudden it's as though the wish has lost it's wings and can't continue on to whomever or whatever force it is that will catch it, hold it, then send it back to earth as a reality.

Wishing is one of those things that hopefully, you never stop doing. It doesn't matter if the wishes are silly or simple, lavish or large - they should always be made. If you stop wishing, it's as though you've stopped believing. And if you stop believing then you stop reaching. And If you stop reaching, you start settling - and you can't settle. No matter what. If you want something, long for something, desire something - you've got to close up those eyes and wish. You can't ever let yourself get caught up in the web of doubt and forget about the magic in wishing.

Recently, without even really noticing it, I think I got caught in that web. I stopped wishing. It wasn't that I stopped on purpose, it was just that, after telling my friends it was 11:11, I'd think to myself "I wish..." and my thoughts would go no further. My mind would swirl, searching for the end of that statement, but nothing would come together. Then the moment was gone, and I gave up, feigning success instead. & I think, what was happening, was that I was mixing up the magic of wishes with the limits of reality. Wishes aren't meant to have boundaries, but lately, instead of going with whichever wish came first to my mind, I'd start thinking about whether it was logical or not...could it ever come true? You can't do that with wishes. Impossible is nothing when it comes to wishes. It may take some time, it may occur when you least expect it, or it may manifest itself in a way you never imagined - but wishes do come true, I promise you. & at the very least, making a wish will ensure that you never stop believing.

Last night, during a semi-argument with a friend, I began a statement directed towards him with "I wish..." I finished the statement. I didn't think about it, I simply said it. Then, later on, I didn't think about it either, because it was such a large wish, such an unlikely thing to come true.

But today, to my surprise, it did.

I think it's safe to say I can wish again - as I hope you can, and will continue to.

XOXO

DG

Therapy

2008-11-11T16:05:00.001-08:00

There's nothing wrong with acting like a kid. Now, when I say "acting like a kid" please don't assume I mean "immaturely" because I surely don't. Therapy is defined as any act, hobby, task, program etc., that relieves tension. It is an activity that has a curative power or quality.

&nd well, there are an innumerable amount of activities, hobbies, tasks, acts and programs that fall under that category - and most of them are from childhood. I'm not ashamed to admit I still find these things enjoyable, and I'm sure the friends I have who enjoy them right alongside me wouldn't offer up any excuses either.

Earlier today three of us sat on the floor of my dorm room coloring. Yes, coloring. As in, we broke out the $1.99 activity book and the box of 64 Crayola Crayons and proceeded to color to our hearts content. I can't tell you how relaxing it is. How simply fun. One friend even noted how rare it is for her to take time out and just do something for the sake of doing it...like coloring.

Then, instead of going out for all of the three days which make-up a weekend at college, a group of us recently settled down for a few games of Apples to Apples (mind you, we had drinks in hand, but the idea was still there).

I love chocolate milk with a straw. Disney movies are still my favorite. Jumping in leaf piles is amazing. Bubbles. Board games. Coloring books. Building a snowman. The Holidays... naps.

"Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap." -Robert Fulghum

(I have to agree)

Children know how to enjoy the little things. So perhaps this ties into my previous post about simplicity. If you don't know where to begin - if you don't know how to learn to stop and breathe, pause and enjoy - look to a child. Witness the wonder as they see a shooting star or a field full of butterflies. Note their laughter as they experience the ocean and the way it seems to play with them, like the waves are rolling to and fro in a game of tag. Watch the sparkle in their eyes on Christmas morning or the determination they possess when attempting to stay up on New Years Eve. Absorb their happiness, their joy, their love. Their admiration of simplicity, of all the things we begin to forget as the years pass by.

Then, try to bring it back. Incorporate it into your own life. It's therapy, I swear it is. It helps remind me of the important things in life, and that in turn, makes it easier for me to be happy. Happy every morning the sun rises and a baby is born or a couple finds true love or I manage to color a picture without going outside the lines =]

I'm not suggesting you throw responsibility to the wind and attempt to remain a child forever, but I am suggesting that you never let the wonderment completely fade away. Of course, this isn't the only step you'll need to take to teach yourself how to appreciate the beauty in everything you see or to pay attention to every breath you take and every moment you live - but it's a start. Peter Pan may have eventually left Neverland, but he never let go.

Now go grab yourself a tall glass of chocolate milk and blow some bubbles in it or something (or, if that's too much for you, just enjoy it =] )

XOXO

DG

Simplicity

2008-11-10T18:17:00.000-08:00

Clarity of expression and austerity in embellishment. I'd have to say those are my favorite definitions of simplicity.

As I was walking to class the other day, I couldn't help but wonder at the beautiful sights that surrounded me. The autumn wind was playfully pulling the leaves off the trees, and they came swirling down around me like premature snow brightly colored orange and yellow and red. I smiled as one hit me squarely on the nose, and inhaled the scent of the changing seasons - the air smelled like winter (I will argue to my dying day that winter has a scent) and the sky was clear and blue and dotted with cotton candy clouds. I listened to the crunch of leaves beneath my feet and the distant song of geese heading south for the winter. & I was happy. How could I not be when so much simple beauty was around me? ...

I love the lavish things in life. I'll be the first to admit that I like jewelry, good shoes, shopping, trips to the spa, a delicious cappuchino, egyptian cotton, martinis, imported chocolate and traveling (to name a few).

But I'll also tell you, wholeheartedly, that I have a pure, unconditional love for all things simple. A beautiful scene like the above autumn walk, dinner with family, a good book and a fire, a baby's smile, kisses, true friendship, sunrise (sunset), the calm after the first snowstorm...

I know there are other individuals who feel the way I do, but it often seems like i'm surrounded by people who don't - people who are too rushed and too hurried to enjoy the simple things - the kinds of things which, in my opinion, make all the difference in life. It's so easy to get caught up in this crazy game called living that you can forget to stop. pause. breathe. look around. enjoy.

Life can be hard, to be sure, but there are so many beautiful aspects which, if you let them, make the "sweet" part of this bittersweet world much richer, and the "bitter" part less harsh.

Sometimes my friends wonder at my outlook - at my ability to smile so freely and laugh so often. &nd I suppose I can't blame them. Even one of my young cousins bluntly wondered at my attitude one day.

"I don't trust you - you're weird."

"How am I weird?!" I questioned, amused.

"You're so happy all the time. It's weird. No one's as happy as you are!"

That's a gross exaggeration of course, because I do have my moments of sadness, but the way I see it, i've got more to be happy about than not. Kenny Chesney & Dave Matthews seem to sum it up well in their new song "I'm Alive" ... You don't have to be a fan of either artist to appreciete these timeless lyrics.

So damn easy to say that life's so hard
Everybody's got their share of battlescars
As for me, I'd like to thank my lucky stars
that I'm alive and well
It'd be easy to add up all the pain
and all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
dwell on the wreckage as it smoulders in the rain -
but not me. I'm alive.
&nd today, you know, that's good enough for me
breathing in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
&nd I'm alive and well

XOXO

Meandering

2008-11-08T19:23:00.000-08:00

That's a good word. I seem to remember having it during my freshman year of high school (was that seriously almost 7 years ago?!?). Meander... the online definition (not that I didn't remember...) is "to proceed by or take a winding or indirect course." That's a happy thought isn't it? It brings to mind winding rivers and curving roads - the sorts of things, which, although eventually taking you to the same destination as, say, a strait or a highway, are guaranteed to make the journey infinately more beautiful and enjoyable.

So! How does that relate to the issue of this blog and it's present lack of direction? Well, you see, that's just it! My life is a never ending marvelous, meandering adventure. I'm the type of person who takes backroads instead of highways. I prefer walking the city over speeding by on the subway. &nd so, instead of sitting and waiting and planning until I can proudly boast at having a straight-and-narrow course in which to direct this page of writing, I'm going to meander the way I do in life. I may still end up in a particular destination, but I've decided I'm not going to rule out the chance of discussing some simply wonderful (or simply silly) things because it doesn't fit under my "catagory."

I love life. So even within my quaint little blog, I'm going to stop and enjoy whichever flowers I want whenever I so choose! So that's my story and I'm sticking to it like a bee to honey.

You probably should as well =]

XOXO

DG

Something big

2008-11-08T10:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Reader, whomever you may be.

Someday soon, this blog is going to transform into something unbelievably fantastic, artistically articulate, remarkably romantic, and wonderfully worth the read.

Once I figure out what on earth I want it to be about that is...

Please come back soon.

Love,

Me