it's a new season.

waiting on the world to change.

this morning, as i was driving to work, i passed a field of sunflowers just as the song "waiting on the world to change" came on the radio.

it was early, before 8:30. the sky was a new york standard - foggy and gray with a small amount of sunglow peeking through. not even enough to say that the sun was shining.

but there they were - the sunflowers. i found myself looking at an entire field of backs of sunflower heads. their faces were turned to the east, toward that dim, weak, filmy sunlight.

is that all it takes to change direction?

a slim haze of light, a crumb, a scrap, a breath, a barely-there thought in the foggy morning.

help, i'm down here!

i'm here. i moved. i am internet-less until next weekend.

and may i just say.

it is so nice to move when you have more than $163.50 to your name, which is how i have done it every time i have moved except this one.

not that i'm rolling in it, but i can afford groceries and TP and stuff. like a grownup or something.

wow.

anyway, i'll be around more in about a week!

boy, i tell ya.

last week, i spent the entire week having my brain sucked out of my head with a straw participating in a CI event at work.

while i was doing that, ERIC GOT THE JOB.

whee!!

so, over the weekend, we found an apartment, signed a lease, and plopped down a big chunk of change. and then i cried. and then my bank account cried.

and then, this week? another brain suck. three words: internal auditor training. three clause-filled days of it. oh yeah. you want to BE me!

don't you???

anywho. in my infinite wisdom, i scrambled around this afternoon at work so that i will be able to take tomorrow off. somehow, some way, i gotta get my brain back.

so, tomorrow i will be scrubbing cupboards and putting down shelf liner and unpacking dishes and pots and pans. and then maybe? i'll cook something! in my own kitchen!

or, i might just melt into a puddle. i'll have to take it as it comes.

the wait might be over.

that's all i know for now.

let's just say that SOMEone (who happens to be engaged to the author of this blog) got a voice mail from an HR representative today. regarding the interview that he went to on friday.

both of our brains are zipping along at a billion miles per hour. hopefully he gets in touch with her tomorrow.

change! bring it.

waiting never was my strength.

i am filled with bad qualities. i'm lazy. i tend to want to be right all the time. i have a sugar addiction. to name a few.

also: i want. all the time. instant gratification has been my lifelong quest. i have wasted so much time lamenting my lack of ability to achieve instant gratification that i could have plodded on to some worthwhile goals by now.

the waiting! i dropped eric off and now i have to wait. so, for now, i am sitting in a coffeeshop and desperately trying not to chug my nonfat hazelnut latte. while also trying desperately not to strangle the 15-year-olds that are flirting behind me. they're pretending to be studying, but there is way too much giggling and "um... i don't KNOOOOW"-ing going on for it to be legitimate studying. "hehehehehehe!!!"

it makes me glad that i will never have to be a 15-year-old again. anywho. off to continue waiting with absolutely zero patience and grace.

job. job. job. job. job. job.

tomorrow, eric has a job interview.

it's an important job interview. he needs the job.

WE need the job. we want to get married. get a place.

all those pesky things that young folks in love strive for.

anyway. keep him in your thoughts, prayers, meditations, chants... whatever.

job. job. job. job. job. job.

in honor of my biopsy.

it'll make your life better.

do you hear that? it's the sound of angels singing. the sky has opened. the rains have ceased. i finally, at long last, found my one true love.

don't tell eric.

i have been wanting something like this since i first saw OPI's Grape Wall of China in action: a nice matte purple-y color that wasn't too light.

i got mine at rite-aid. it's from the sally hansen complete salon line. it has an awesome wide brush that makes application a breeze. once you get used to the feel, you can cover an entire fingernail with ONE pass.

this color went on my toes about a week ago and i don't see how i'm ever going to stop painting them this color. it's beautiful. magical. shiny. smooth. purple.

you'll love it. unless, of course, you don't like purple. in which case... i'm sorry, i can't help you.

your problems lie outside my area of expertise.

in the clear.

well. not that you knew, but i had a biopsy recently.

although i never freaked out and had any kind of meltdown over it, i was still moderately freaked out. me? a biopsy?

NO. that was what i wanted to say, right up until the biopsy was actually BEING taken.

do you think i face problems head on, or that i try to avoid dealing with them at all costs? just guess.

anyway. i had the biopsy. and it hurt. and i was afraid. and cold. and alone.

it was the low, slow kind of afraid that doesn't really believe that i will ever hear the word cancer when my health is discussed. but. it recognizes that anything is possible.

so, yes. this motivated me to finally mail in my life insurance beneficiary designation forms, a year and a half after i actually got life insurance.

but, today i got a phone call informing me that i am CLEAR. all clear. healthy as a horse, as my doctors always seem to like to tell me.

awesome.

my lean cuisine life.

i know i haven't really been tearing it up over here. i have just felt like i haven't had much to say.

today, when i was eating a lean cuisine for lunch, i realized why.

lean cuisines are sort of weird. boring. unsatisfying.

they look like food, even though they rarely look like the picture on the box.

they kind of taste like food.

they actually all taste the same to me, and they leave me with a bad aftertaste. on the upside, they do manage to get calories, protein, fiber, and nutrients into my body.

they never satisfy me. i feel like i just gulped down a giant glass of air with sauce after i eat a lean cuisine. and then? 20-30 minutes later, i'm ravenous.

this is how i feel about my life. it looks like a normal life. i get up and go about my daily routine, i do fun things on the weekends, i hold down a job, etc. my life is like a lean cuisine imitation of a really awesome and satisfying life. it looks great, but leaves a bit to be desired in the satisfaction and flavor department.

that's so sad. i used to be one of those people who believed that "only boring people get bored." i have done a lot, i have tried new things, i have dug deep.... and i'm chronically, helplessly, dispairingly BORED.

duck, duck, goose... minus the ducks.

a few of my favorite things.

i realize...

i have not been very talkative lately. i have been feeling a lot of things shift on the inside for the past few weeks and i'm not quite sure how to write about it - or even if i want to write about it.

i'm still alive and kicking.

take a minute

have you ever really taken your time eating something that you just assumed you always liked?

for instance, my world has been rocked every march by the arrival of mcdonald's shamrock shakes. this year, on my second one of the season, i finally slowed down enough to actually taste it.

i didn't like the way it tasted.

just now, i raided a bag of riesen that i bought at the grocery store last night. i popped one into my mouth and just let it sit there.

the chocolate tastes terrible! it's so chemically and sweet.

it's a complete difference from the way i usually eat them, which is just to chow down on them and just get blissed out by all of the chewy goodness.

i might be on to something, here.

wicked.

so, i put wicked on hold at the library on january 20th and it still isn't in.

is it really worth it?

i mean, i'm 1 of 8 on the hold list, so of course i'm going to wait... but sheesh.

is it that good? 3 months of waiting?

say what you want...

but this song is just... part of my soul.

just another day in freakland.

for the past two nights i have been dreaming of botched easter cakes (think cake wrecks). i have been alternately disappointed that the cakes were wrecked, then happy because i could take pictures of them, then disappointed when i woke up and realized that the wrecks, the pictures, and the cakes in general, didn't exist.

last night on my way to pick eric up from work, i wrote two country songs. while i was waiting for him, i sketched out a few characters for a book.

this morning i have already pondered, deeply, and for like, 2 hours, separation of church and state. i'm even thinking about writing an essay.

i'm staring at a giant vase full of mostly dead flowers and i am kind of fascinated by the new color palette.

my back hurts, my nose is stuffy, and i ate pretzel rods and diet coke for breakfast.

this is me, at 100%.

my dear commenters:

when i set up this blog, i neglected to input an e-mail address for comment notification. that means that over the past few weeks, i didn't realize that anyone was reading or commenting.

imagine my delight (that you're reading) and sorrow (that i missed you) when i actually visited my own blog today and saw the comments!

i am so sorry for my oversight in this matter. henceforth, i shall be notified of new comments and i will do my best to respond in a timely manner.

i love new york.

because, just when you think you can't take one more day of looking at the sharp, harsh edges of the dead landscape?

new york comes through.

spring, you're a weirdo.

i say this with all the authority of one nerd calling another nerd out - this is fully covered under the "takes one to know one" clause.

i am not insulting the lovely earth on which we make our home or the seasons that the earth swirls around in.

all i'm saying is, last week there were giant, fat, glistening, wormy-smelling worms everywhere.

this week there are just randomly scattered french fried onions all over the sidewalks.

i don't know which is worse to step on.

the crunch tonight was pretty unnerving.

the devil i know

i've been turning this phrase over in my head for a couple of days. i've been thinking more about the devil i don't know, to tell you the truth.

fantasizing about him.

i'm tired of playing it safe with the devil i know.

i'm tired of staying overweight. i'm tired of having boundaries that are about as effective as a 20-year old rubber band. i'm tired of being the one who is always a good listener, even when my heart isn't in it. i'm tired. i'm beginning to feel the shortness of life... the wasting of days, weeks, years.

the devil i know is multifaceted and complex and moody.

he involves filing cabinets and microsoft outlook and putting things in numerical order and pressing green buttons. he drives a stick shift as a matter of pride. he hasn't created anything in years because he's waiting for the time to be right. he can be hopeless, lazy, and sad. he eats too much. he likes to sneak cigarettes. he won't make time for me to do the important things. cook. clean. care for me the way i deserve to be cared for. he's good at procrastinating. someday, he whispers, it will just work out. just hang on. just keep nibbling at mediocrity and eventually you will get to the syrupy center of success.

he lies. he cheats. he hides.

let's face it. my frontal lobe has been fully formed for seven years now, nearly eight. i know the difference between things that are bad and things that are good. right and wrong. day and night.

dead and alive.

today, at work, i unwrapped one of those little dove promise candies, and here is what the wrapper said:

what would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?

wow. if i knew. if i was guaranteed success. i need another twenty lifetimes to do all of those things.

i would create. i would finally exhale all of the creative wishes i have been holding in my chest since i was small and i learned that art wasn't a useful path to pursue. that poetry wasn't practical. that fiction was an indulgence.

i would get back to sketching fashion ideas. i would get a pottery wheel. i would become a reporter for rolling stone, if for no other reason than the person who did the clapton and beck article used the wrong form of discreet.

i would write a movie, a musical, and a room full of songs. i would play the guitar and the violin and the mandolin, and even the steel drum. and the piano.

i would open a bakery. i would serve the world's best sandwiches and the most beautiful croissants and the most adorable cupcakes and i would brew inspiring coffee.

i would start a small independent record label and handpick the artists i love. i would put out records, just for fun.

i would build a house from scratch. i would learn carpentry, masonry, whatever "-ry" i need to learn to make it happen. i would design and decorate the entire place myself. i would learn how to landscape and garden, and then i would build that, too. i would build furniture. sew drapes and sheets and bedspreads.

mostly, i would wake up. i would own my life instead of letting it own me. i would stop getting blood blisters from overzealous filing cabinets. i would stop waking up with back pain. i would stop lamenting my declining skin, hair, face.

i would walk up to the devil i don't know and kiss him full on the mouth. and i would never look back.

peace and gas station coffee.

today, all i wanted was some peace. i had a heck of a week (ok, two weeks) at work. i needed "me" time.

ever since the snow started melting, the waterfall near my house has been roaring so loud that it keeps me up at night. it sounds like the howling wind, except it never, ever stops.

ithaca falls

today i wandered over and took some photos of the falls. then i drove to the other waterfall, across town. on the way, i got the worst craving for gas station cappuccino. you know the stuff. it's nothing but hot cocoa, really.

i parked in the parking lot of buttermilk falls state park, got out, walked around, took some photos.

when i got back in my car to drive away, the woman in the car that had just parked next to mine got out. she was wearing a sweater almost identical to my favorite sweater in 1999. she had bad hair and skin. she was so excited to get to those falls. she was arranging her hair like she was about to knock on a door for a hot date.

it's really amazing what nature can do to us. it makes me giddy and peaceful, and i know it does the same thing for at least one other person on this earth.

buttermilk falls

almost spring

i love this time of year... almost. it's the almost-end of winter. the place where you can go for a week straight with no coat, but there is still a chance that you'll get smacked with the final blast, maybe just cold, maybe cold and snow, but at any rate, it will come: the last death rattle of winter.

and the snow from the last overwhelming snowstorm is almost melted. there are a few piles hanging tenaciously on, like we actually want them around. they remind me of that one guy, and you know this guy, who will NOT leave the party. everyone else is gone. the food and drink is all put away. you have even gone so far as to put on your pajamas and brush your teeth right in front of the guy, just please, for the love of pete, why won't he LEAVE?

because he thinks he's welcome. and he probably wasn't even invited in the first place. he probably invited himself.

i think i'm starting to relive some painful memories from my past, when all i wanted to do was draw an acceptable analogy to the unwelcome-ness and the continuing persistence of this snow and well, winter in general, while i'm at it.

time to go home, guy. i'm ready for spring.

crazy heart

i recently saw crazy heart at the local theater.

i like those sad cowboy kind of stories. i like desolation, mistakes, and shots at redemption.

i read a lot about crazy heart. i read about how it wouldn't have worked without t bone burnett. the man is a freaky genius.

it wouldn't have worked without jeff bridges, either.

by the way... his website is so fun. lots of little cool things to unearth over there. and he has a decent photography habit, too.

but all of the reading, and anything i was expecting to think about during the film? by the time bad blake stumbled out of his chevy suburban in front of the spare room bowling alley, it was gone. my usual super-annoying meta-awareness was taking a nap in the back room while i threw myself wholeheartedly into the small slice i was getting to see of bad blake and his hassles and his heart.

i absolutely loved maggie gyllenhaal. i've never seen a movie where she had such a large role, and she was magical. i believed her for each and every second. that's rare for me, to find that kind of trust with a female actor. and robert duvall? and colin farrell? i want to call them the icing on the cake, but they were more substantial than that. it was like cutting a perfect slice of beautifully iced cake, only to discover that it's filled with sliced fresh strawberries.

and one of the biggest treats in the whole thing? this song. it's called, "the weary kind" that was co-written by t bone burnett and ryan bingham.

i love the song. i love the voice. i loved the whole movie, and i really recommend it.

about two verys

i got an email from my best friend in the entire universe. in it, she wrote, "you are very, very hard on yourself."

two verys.

it rung in my head for days, until finally i decided i had to do something about it. i don't want to be very very anything...except OK. happy. well-adjusted.

welcome to my attempts to do just that.

love,
amelia