I am the embodiment of the word "productive" right now. I have finished my homework until Thursday, I am three weeks ahead in reading for Young Adult Literature, and I have 11 pages for Advanced Writing. Also, I worked out yesterday, went for a drive with Julia, attended an ATP meeting, and worked on my sock. This will make me very happy eventually, I hope.

I will post poems as I feel necessary

I have another poem by Sandra Cisneros. Same link, next poem down. "Bay Poem from Berkeley."

It's hard to find sincerity at a distance, so I'm not going to look from faraway. Tunnel vision: I am basically blind in everything.

Anyways, I am going to try to have twenty pages for my project in advanced writing by Thursday night. I am currently on page five. I can't tell if it's going well.

The Noises of Limbo

Perhaps if I had a bottle to throw
I could step on top of the brown shards
Every crunch would be satisfying
Better than the buzzing
That appears somewhere between
that moment
—Oh please no
—Oh please I will
—Spit out the whiskey
—Wipe my eyes clean
It will be ten minutes ago.

I didn’t drink enough to have a bottle to throw
I have too much to drink to have a bottle to throw
My throat like a drain, my throat like a twist
My throat like a straw with a hole
cut in the middle.

I don’t condone violence.
The shatter might be too loud.
There can be a contest between the silence and the breaking.

Not to repeat myself or anything

I am okay. I thought I would wake up and not be okay, but I'm okay.

Things are way too loud when it is silent. I am doing homework for Tuesday right now. It's too much reading, I can't concentrate.

I volunteered to write posts on a feminist blog, so you should go look at it and read about fun feminist things. (I wrote on sex dolls).

My least favorite part of being a child was wanting to do things, but not being able to. I had this belief that I would get older and would be able to do everything. I feel crippled by my fear and passive approach to everything.

Control

I am controlling
all the wrong things.

I have a little black book
that I put the wrong things inside.
It's even the wrong little black book
with the wrong system of numbers
instead of letters.

I control my eyebrows too.
I have little black tweezers for that.
I control my eyebrows while I am controlling
all the wrong other things.

Control does not spread,
it goes against the tide.
Control is highly futile,
just like the things I cannot control.

I have a little poem by Sandra Cisneros that I am quite fond of. It's the first one on the page, "Waiting for a Lover."

Colin and I had a nice little talk over break and one of the things we talked about was how awful living in a dorm room is for you, or rather, living in a dorm room is for me. I sleep in bed, I do my homework in bed, I use my computer in bed, I watch movies in bed, eat in bed quite frequently, and thus mess up my entire system of functioning, then I stop functioning and this is why I seem depressed at school. Therefore, I have a goal of spending less time in bed this term. I'm not sure it will work.

Boredom and responsibility are the same thing for me just like altruism and selfishness.

For example:
I am bored and so I am going to sleep at a reasonable hour for my first day of classes. I don't even have a book I want to read.

For example:
I feel good when I am nice to people and they appreciate me, thus I practice altruism.

I'm not sure I am actually altruistic or responsible. Any ways, I am off to go be pseudo-responsible.

The Aftermath of Watching Shows about Big Families

The whole time all I could
think was jesus,
do they ever have it wrong.

Things that are making me happy right now

1. Lots of things.
2. I'm going to take a shower. One of the worst parts of train rides in sitting in the same air for hour upon hour.

My clarity was so beautiful and so momentary. Time for a nap despite the piles of clothes on my bed.

Necessary Vibration

Would it be better if
all the hummingbirds and all the honeybees
stopped buzzing?
A suddenly silent cacophony:
this too is staggering.

People make me really happy. I don't have anything to follow that statement with. It's just true.

Overwhelming Excitement

Martin gave a really nice description of anxiety the other day. He said that the reason people are anxious is because they are just really excited. I don't agree wholly, but for somethings it makes sense. I am nervous because I am excited. I just encountered a probably I've rarely had with this blog; I want to censor myself because it is too apparent what I am talking about and I'm excited so I'm nervous so I try to hide most of it, because the fact that I'm excited scares the fucking shit out of me. I will just go write an entirely obvious poem. That's an excellent solution.

Hurray! I got good grades! Now I am off to Coffee News with Danny. Hurray! Garlic fries! Danny! Coffee! News!

I should rename my blog to: Why I am Happy at this Moment

Inner heatlh

I survived my yearly physical. I was seeing spots in front of my eyes the whole time I was so scared. I related to the small child screaming in the bathroom because she didn't want to give a urine sample.

Now: Haircut, DMV

Why is the rum never gone?

My mother asked me when I got home last night and I told her that I got home this morning because it's too risky to drive late at night on St. Patrick's day. She then got really excited about cleaning out the family room so I could have sleepovers. Then I laughed at her, luckily she didn't realize I was laughing at her. So if anyone wants to have a sleepover...

Break is going wonderfully. Saturday I went out for breakfast, pie, watched a movie with my dad and brother, and went for coffee. Sunday I went to Northfield with a few people to visit Danny. Monday we played poker and I lost horribly. Last night we celebrated St. Patrick's day properly and had a dance party.

I'm still okay that break is going to end eventually though. I have things to look forward to.

Oh my goodness

It's almost four in the morning and I am exhausted and feeling and thinking too much as usual. It made me think of this poem I just read by Sandra Cisneros called "Small Madness." You should read it. I tried to find it online, but I am too tired.

I am happy with my life right now.

I like phone calls even better than cake and I like cake a lot

I'm home. I need to write this post another time. I think the fact that I've been overwhelmed with stress just hit me.

Literary Analysis 2

I am reverting
back to a system of grunts and moans.
My happiness expressed through noise.
Even better, your feelings.

In German,
the verb for confuse is irritieren.
Perhaps this is why people say it’s guttural.

I think about riding the train and which way
the train is going. It never seems important
once inside the train. Everything is the same
both directions. I question:
wasn’t that house with the peeling paint
and the broken screen door on other side
the last time?

I am knitting a sock.
Socks are not something I often wear.
I make more friends on the train when I am
knitting. Everyone wants to know what I am
making. People are impressed by socks.

I will get asked for my ticket.
I will grunt.

A woman on her way to Iowa
once complained about the Illinois scenery.

Moaning is too sexual to describe arrival.

Oh, and, did anyone else realize that I'm riding the home on Friday the 13th? I'm not superstitious, but still, people don't just go around breaking mirrors for fun. I guess that's also because glass would be everywhere.

How do you like them bad apples?

Words are just too vastly confusing. Right now you are thinking, "Is she talking about her paper or something else." See? What the fuck is this? This is not a system of communication. It's a system of vagueries that we put together to form what we think might be reality, but we can't really be sure, because nothing is ever quite properly defined.

Also: I have to revise one paragraph and rewrite the conclusion of my paper, email it, return library books, and pack, and then I'll be utterly exhausted and on my way to come home. I am so excited!

Finals update #13

I met with one of my professors today and she told me I need to go home and take a long nap and after that relax and watch a movie. She said I'm not allowed to email her until tomorrow because then she'll know I'm working. I really want to do this, but I feel an overwhelming guilt when I am not working on things and I keep telling Colleen I'm going to go into work and then I don't go.

I think I'm not going to go. I think I am going to lie in bed and watch a movie. I think I need to do this.

Finals update #12

I have not updated in awhile. I have no idea what awhile means because I have no sense of days. I am awake at all the wrong times.

German class: Done!
Victorian lit: Draft is done, still have to revise.
Literature by Chicanas: On page 8 out of 10-12

I'm done with class though. I come home on Friday!

Finals update #11

I'm done! I have a 13 page rough draft! This will make things vastly easier when I have to revise as my paper is already an acceptable length long. Now I am going to sleep until 11 or so when I will wake up and read my paper and cringe at the awful awful writing that occured.

Finals update #10

I am on page 11 of the rough draft of my paper that only needed to be 8 pages, but I am compulsive so I keep going, but not compulsive enough to where I don't procrastinate. Sara is studying in bed with me. It makes me feel good to know that other people also spend hours in my bed studying. Glo was studying in my bed earlier. My bed is basically the new place to study. I have to write the introduction, the conclusion, and finish a paragraph somewhere around the middle that I didn't feel like writing earlier. Oh, and make a works cited page. I am not sure I am arguing anything anymore. I think I have vastly separated from my original argument and my paper just states the same things over and over again. I don't care anymore. I am tired of sitting and I am tired of finals. I want to sleep or do something more exciting than this. Sara and I had a very nice conversation about our childhoods. It wasted lots of time. I really need to restart my computer, but that takes forever, so I will continue writing and just hope my computer doesn't crash. I am rambling. I can't believe I am pulling two all-nighters in a row.

Finals update #9

I have six pages of both my papers! I am exhausted though as I only slept from 6-9 or 5-8 or however you want to look at it and so I am going to take a nap for a couple hours and then continue! I am actually quite happy-spirited, as I am finally working and the work is going well considering my exhaustion.

Finals update #8

I have four pages for both of my papers. Thank god.

Goals for tomorrow:
Finish rough draft of Victorian lit paper (at least 8 pages)
Write two more pages of Chicana lit paper
Revise German aufsatz.

Finals update #7

I have four pages of my literature by chicanas paper! This is entirely because I love Sandra Cisneros and she understands exactly how I feel about bodies and this is basically what I'm writing about.

Papers are much easier to write when I am in love with the author

Here is why I am in love with Sandra Cisneros:

"The scariest thing to me is writing poetry, because you're looking at yourself desnuda. You're always looking at the part of you that you don't show anybody."

Also:

"Why can't a feminist be sexy?"

Literary Analysis

I told him I was having nightmares.
He told me to spend less time in bed.

The things that pile up around me:
20 books, some with pages falling out.
I'm afraid my water bottle is going to collect mold.
Wine glasses sit in the kitchen sink
with a purple circle still in the bottom.

I practice literary analysis.

One time on the street I found a note that said:
"I'm sorry I still love you,"
I have spent the last two years questioning
whether that meant
I'm sorry I still love you
I'm sorry I still love you
I'm sorry I still love you

How many ways are there really to interpret
when someone says bye?

We have group discussions.
At this point, nothing is definitive.

I have a rotton container of guacamole
and a mug with the tea bag still inside.
I wake up in the morning and my back hurts
my throat hurts and my stomach hurts
and I cannot place why.

Bacteria stands as reason,
the scientific aside.

When I wake up, my head is
pounding from sleeping too much.



* I saw "I'm sorry I still love you" on someone's facebook, but I didn't want to put that in a poem.

Finals update #6

I've decided they should cancel finals. I feel this will get rid of everything wrong with my life. I am excited for home and excited for spring term. I am just not excited for finals. I sit in my room or in founders staring at the computer and even my legs are starting to twitch out of boredom.



In other news, I will be home from the 13-23. I get in on the 13th at 10:30PM, so if anyone is interested in doing anything, I'm game, but if not I completely understand. I leave on the 23rd at around 8 and get into Galesburg at 8:30. I am just vastly excited for so many things.

Finals update #5

I finished my German essay, I just have to edit it and send it in. This means all I have to do to finish German is read ten pages of a book, but it's an easy reader so it's small and the words are huge and come up with two questions about it, which will be easy, because I am only vaguely aware of what is going on and I watched the movie.

I went to my Victorian literature professor today and we talked about my paper and overall it was a successful meeting, but I was so stressed I was having a hard time articulating.

Tonight, I am going to work on my literature by chicanas paper, when I have been neglecting.

Some hypocondriac talk: I woke up this morning and my back hurt and I was like, "Whatever, I probably slept funny," but a few hours later in Founders (the computer lab) my side started to throb, so I went to Webmd and it told me I probably have appendicitis and should seek medical attention immediately. However, I had things to do and failed to seek medical attention. The pain has now moved to my back and my wonderful roommate took me to the store to get a heating pad and some pain killers. It's actually not that bad, I mean, it hurts, but now I don't feel like the lamest person ever for writing my paper on a Friday night instead of going out.

Finals update #4

Saved the wrong file in the computer lab and have lost both pages. I am now burying my head in a deep hole.

Finals update # 3

I'm on page three of my Middlemarch paper! My enthusiasm is slowing though.

Finals update #2

I'm on page two of my Middlemarch paper!

Finals update #1

I decided that finals are more fun when I keep a constant log of how they are going and thus procrastinate very efficiently.

Let's make a list.

1. 12-15 page Middlemarch paper- I sat in front of my computer for three days and all I managed to do was rewrite the first paragraph three times. Today I wrote a 2 and 1/2 page long outline that I'm not sure will stretch for 12-15 pages. Due: by the end of finals.
2. 10-12 page "Woman Hollering Creek" paper- I have the sources. I've read some of them. I'm in love with the book. Is love enough for a good paper? Probably not.
3. 200 word German essay about Sonnenalle. This is the easiest thing on my list. Except I have to bash communism a little bit, which is rather sad for me.

I just have to suck it up and do it. For real. I'm being whiny.

I like Martin's blog so much. You should read it.

Now Martin's going to say, "Tasha, why did you put a link from your blog onto my blog?"

I just really like it and wish I could plagiarize it.

Breasts

Apparently when people touch each others breasts it releases a hormone that makes us like each other more. Granted, this is not to be used as an excuse: "What are you doing?" "Touching your breasts so you'll like me more."

Generational Gap

1.
At my Grandpa's funeral, it was described
how when he talked it you, it was like you were
the only person in the room.

I am apt to be skeptical of this,
of most things, but I too felt that way,
even as he lay on the hospital bed
breathing into a plastic tube.

I am not this way.

When I am talking to you, I am
probably thinking of someone else,
unless you are You in which case,
You probably know and when I'm there
I don't stare at the ceiling.

2.
It might be because I don't like it when You
or you look at me.

Sincerity comes in the form of two people looking
at each other and neither of them are lying.
This is why it takes a lot to look at someone.

My Grandmother cannot move her arms
and has no strength in her legs to walk,
but still her back is straight and she stares
her mouth gaping, her eyes watery
and the curve of her nose even more pronounced.

3.
Dreaming is idealized,
but is best renounced through that dream,
where I was flying, but I was being chased
and it took forever to get off the ground:
my legs were too heavy.

The word dream is too general.
I need something better, like when my eyes are open
I still see pictures of things I want:
more often or not this is something edible or You
and you in both, but different.
One is the things I would like to see
and the other is things I never want to see again.

I am thinking rational thoughts

I had a really bad week and a really good weekend. (Small sample: OffKnox, German club fieldtrip, witnessing someone drink two liters of beer in an hour)

Things left to do before springbreak:

10-12 page paper for Chicana Literature
12-15 page paper for Victorian Literature
Finish "Am Kurzen Ende der Sonnenalle"
Watch the movie of "Am Kurzen Ende der Sonnenalle"
Write an aufsatz for "Am Kurzen Ende der Sonnenalle"

That's not bad for a week and a half right?