Archive for April, 2002

April 17th, 2002

» the end of love

I just finished the first half of the most depressing project I’ve done all year: my nonfiction project for Literature for Young Adults. I really should have given more consideration to what topic I was choosing before I settled on AIDS. Truth, I chose it because I’d taken two YA fiction books on the subject out of the library, and it was easier to choose a topic I’d already read a book about. Anyway, I spent most of the afternoon despairing and wanting to cry. The AIDS Quilt is especially moving.

Now I’m listening to “Dance Me to the End of Love,” a song I downloaded at the impetus of Jo’s journal. It’s so soothing and wonderful, and for me it is also a little bit sad.

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

That is my favorite part, along with the line “Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn.” If I could sing, this is one of the songs I would.

April 16th, 2002

» an observation

It is so cheering in the morning to watch the light falling golden on bright green leaves. I have to resist the urge to bury my nose in them, in search of a clean green smell.

April 15th, 2002

» a companion to the united states constitution

It’s gorgeous outside. Seventy-seven degrees and not even noon. It’s all sunshiny but there’s a nice cool breeze that smells of new grass and fresh dirt with a smoky hint of someone grilling far away. I think in my last life I was an animal of some sort, the kind that likes to roll in warm grass, because that’s what I want to do right now.

This past weekend I went to Columbia with Steph and Amy. We stayed in Sher’s dorm (they get to have any pet under five pounds that’s not a cat or a dog, and I’m very jealous) and we all went out dancing, along with poor Marcos, her friend from upstairs who had to endure the silliness and, well, hormones.

I will not relate the incidents of Friday evening here, in the interests of…actually, I’m just feeling too lazy to type it out right now, and I need to go get homework done. Suffice it to say there were lap dances and a lot of ass-grabbing. It was a grand time.

(P.S. The title of this entry is completely random. I clicked in the little box to try to think of something and that little autocomplete menu dropped down, so I chose something from it.)

April 13th, 2002

» ‘drifts get deeper’

Last night I had a sort of freaky dream and I woke in a panic. I wish I could remember it all. I was watching a movie made from a boy’s life. He was battling depression, I think, and it followed him through these different stages of his illness and then “recovery”, and culminated with him having a huge fight with his parents and then running out into the snow. He came to an icy river and threw himself in, and then I watched him freeze/drown to death. I cannot fathom why his parents didn’t go after him, but they didn’t. And I remember remarking on how the parts of the movie fit so well together, how his stages of recovery mirrored the stages of his illness, and how his death seemed somehow appropriate. It was a good movie, I guess.

April 12th, 2002


I hate shaving but I love the feeling that comes afterwards: the silk smooth skin. I know this is something pop culture has taught me to want, but I really don’t care. I love the softness of lotioned skin. It is comforting. Also, my shaving gel is the same fragrance as my mom’s, so every once in a while I’ll be reminded of home. A little oasis in the middle of a dreary day.