My oldest friend would definitely be my cousin Stephanie. We've known each other our whole lives, and are only two weeks apart in age (i'm the older one!). Since we were little we've been inseparable; going to the movies together, to the beach, on hikes, or even just to each other houses to chase my cat, or play pokemon.

To this day we still talk to one another every day that we can. We sit next to each other in Government/Economics class, and hang out as often as possible.

As to whether or not we change,of course we do. She and I have changed drastically over the course of the last few years, but that in no way changed the fact that we are close. We've both changed for the better. :)

Tiramisu to the end!

To be honest, all of her books are satisfying to read. However, because I have a bit of a biased perspective when concerning the character Severus Snape, I would have to say that I really enjoy reading both the Half Blood Prince, and The Deathly Hallows. Both novels had such a high level of intensity that it was hard for me to stop reading them until I was completely done. So yes, a novel that I will forgo sleep for is most definitely a satisfying read. :)

Happy Birthday J.K.R!

The Fictional character that i've always identified with is Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter series. I always both admired, and understood her love of learning, as well as her tenacious behavior. She and I are both people who frequently put learning and research above our social lives. We both also tend to get ourselves into so much research that we forget to eat or sleep because the topic is so interesting. Probably the least admirable quality that hermione granger and I share is our tendency to loose patience with people who waste time in regards to their education, especially when it disrupts classes. In general she I share an "Irish Temper" although in my case it is combined with German loudness, and Italian hand gestures.

You and I boy-
sweet and young out upon the waves
current pulling, pushing, soothing
Small boats with red sails upon the horizon

You and I boy-
In a rowboat built for two
eating ripe watermelon and pre-packaged goods
there upon the waves

You and I boy-
basking in the gentle light, the sun's embrace
warm and content until it begins to fade
yellows, reds, and dusky oranges sliding gently across the sky

You and I boy-
rowing our small boat back to port
an evening wind blowing your hair out of your eyes, and my dress up about my thighs
and the red sails of all the other little boats bigger than ours
-the wind softly blowing us home

You and I boy-
sitting, dangling our legs off the end of the pier
feet out of reach of the darkening waters
simply silence and waiting, for eventual sundown and lonely walks home
-In separate directions

You and I boy,
heed the call of summer, leaving spring behind
walking away from red sail boats and clear blue waters
and the small rowboat at the end of the pier
the one with three oars instead of two

Ah you and I boy,
Not saying goodbye with embraces or words of longing
simply brief salutations and drawn out glances
All we can manage before the road forks in two directions
with you my sweet sweet boy down one, and I fumbling down the other
the darkened road that much bleaker without you

Oh you and I boy,
out forever upon the waves, in a rowboat built for two
Amongst the red sailed boats drifting aimlessly out to sea,

Oh you and I boy,
Oh you and I....

Mrs.Dalloway

I flip the pages
The yellowing paper gliding smoothly past my fingertips
The dusty scent of "Mrs. Dalloway" grows headier and headier in the open air
It's thick and pungent aroma wrapping around me like a cashmere glove
Virginia Woolf reaching out in her tenderly erotic embrace-
From the depths of pages I have never read
Beckoning with elegant, ink stained fingers
For me to immerse myself within those thinly picturesque pages

Only the deepest of breathes keeps me steady
My hand is trembling as I turn the first page
To find, in spiky, smeared script
A lengthly inscription to 'Leah'
-Leah, a young woman i've never met
Who has, as I write these words, become my greatest question
The most tantalizing of all unanswered thoughts

So let me ask you "Mrs. Dalloway"
As you gaze endlessly at me, painted in stillness for all to see
Let me ask you of the conquests before me
Of the others who have given themselves up to the slenderness of your pages
Did 'Leah', in her meager eighteen years, embrace your yellowed pages with the -
same tenderness I have?
Did she, with the same naivitee that I posses, learn the most important lesson of - all?
That the last line is always the most profound,
That it contains the essence and soul of all that lays between?


Please tell me "Mrs Dallaway", Virginia Woolf, or 'Lea' whom I have never met,
Does the last line have the profoundness i've long searched for
Does it justify the means to and end?
Or is the end simply the sum of many parts, never to truly come together

No More Saturdays

I have forgotten what it all was like
78’s blaring in the kitchen
-I can’t listen; I protest this lack of speech
You have an English major after all

We used to think of Saturday mornings as a work of art
Coffee grinder blaring, Safeway bought croissants warming in the oven
And long conversations in the big armchair by the fire
Melting the tension that had formed since last Wednesday
- I was to young to understand

Time moved us apart, as it often does to things to long in a stationary pose
The seasons changed, time swept clear from the hourglass
And Wednesdays were always three years behind
-Your calendar never changed, even though I outgrew the chair in the living room
I can reach the top of the bookshelf now; there are no Saturday mornings anymore


Now breakfast comes in cardboard boxes, and the coffee in chipped mugs
We sit across an old rickety table, a barren wasteland of memories stretched to thin
The clock in the corner strikes nine and you depart, arms embracing me for only a moment
-The coffee shop stirs and the faint scent of croissants reaches me, and an old smile
- Returns to my face, a bitter twist at the seams
Down the street at the old inn, a vacancy sign flashes in the window
There are no Saturday mornings anymore

I woke up this morning to an empty house, silk sheets, and fresh coffee. Not a bad way to start the day I must say. It felt really strange to me, to actually have time to lay back and not have to move. It's been such a chaotic summer but for the first time this morning I had this sense of greatly overwhelming peace. I'm not entirely sure as why i'm writing this: hardly anyone responds to my posts. Not that I mind. But I suppose there is simply this feeling of great change that has come over me, and i'm thrilled to finally see it and feel it. I have acquired age this summer. And I wonder if perhaps now things will be a little simpler or a lot more complex?

Only time will tell I suppose...

- Shake my knees
- Pace
- Sing loudly
- chew my fingernails
- tap my fingers
- chew my lip

is one of the most awful books I have ever had the misfortune to read. I must discourage anyone from reading it, even though as a Twilight fan I wish for Stephanie Myers success as a writer.

I started this book with much anticipation, two years of anticipation in fact, and I can't even begin to express how frustrated I am by it's lack of connection to the rest of the series. It lacks Myers poignant and amplified perspective of the world of vampires. I truly expected Myers to pull together her story and finish off the trilogy with as much poise as she started it. However as soon as the wedding vows were said, I found myself disapointed in not just the plot but by the change in characters.

Bella, Myers feminist styled character goes from a strong minded heroine, to a week willed and frail pregnant mother. Myers character shift is distressing as well as unbelievably offensive to woman in general with her new portrayal of Bella in Breaking dawn.

All in all, from what I have read, it's not worth buying.

*please note: I am in no way against pregnancy but I do find it tragically offensive when woman are portrayed as week when pregnant. I feel that myers' description of Bella laying about, needing to be waited on by her husband due to her lack of strength when she is only 4 weeks into her first trimester to be ridiculous. So, once again. Nothing against pregnancy. It truly is, in my mind atleast, one of the most beautiful things in the world. :)*

Cherry Pie. And whipcream on the side.

That's all there is too it in my food bible. lol.

I just found out that the most amazing Harry Potter convention is next month and I can't go. I mean WTF? The one Snape related gathering in both the wizarding and muggle worlds, and I will be stranded two  states away in summer school instead of snaping. Ah well, I'm just having bad luck when it comes to harry potter stuff this month!

Atleast I have the harry potter books to keep me company!

This morning has been strange.

I tripped while getting dressed and I fell against a built in shelf in my Grandmothers closet. It broke (not surprising considering how much of a klutz I am) and a whole box of photos came down with it. On my foot I might add.

The photos were pictures of my family ranging from my mothers baby pictures,  wedding shots of my grandparents wedding and my mom/dad's. There was a really old picture of me running through the sprinklers when I was little, and pictures of my dad and I at our old cottage in El Granada. 

There was so many photos. And I was a bit overwhelmed to see so any memories spread out in front of me. It was like looking at my life through a series of black and white stills: I didn't need color to see the movement, and emotion, and reality.  Most of all, I missed so many things that I had in those photos. Stability, happiness, and the innocence of youth. I miss it, see it slipping away everyday as I get older. I'm sixteen and yet i'm still wishing I could be three again, climbing the plumb tree in the back yard, going puddle jumping, sitting in my Dad's lap. I wish I could be carefree.  I wish I could be so much less than I am, closer to my childhood naivete.  I wish, more than anything, that I could sit at the little red table my Dad made for me, and color. Pretend that I can still escape this crazy world we live in. Pretend for a moment that I never have to come out of my corner, pretend that I can slumber forever without the fear of waking up. I just wish I could still pretend.

Today
-went up to San Francisco on bart with Andy and Kimbo
- Got lost down by the piers, and even with directions from twelve people, remained lost
-walked from pier 45-27 about eight times
-realized I needed to have purchased a ticket for the concert I had intended to go to today which was supposed to be free!
-100 degree weather
-had a group of three men attempt to not only get into my bag, but to feel me up along with my other friend kimbo.
-had to pretend to be kimbo's lesbian lover to get away. (don't ask me why it worked; you' d think pretending to be a lesbian would have made the men that bugged us even more reluctant to let us go, but apparently not).
- was wolf-whisted at by several men from a construction crew (bastards...ugh)
- rubbed my left shoulder raw from where my bag strap was ( I was wearing a strapless sun-dress)
-walked roughly eight miles that i would have been very happy not to walk (well, ok.....I only hated the walking because of the weather)

All I have to say is that I hope tommorow is better.

So, I can't say in the extent of my life that I have ever (before today of course) had to take a shower with a fern. I know, OBVIOUSLY, that keeping a large shrub-like object in a shower is not necessarily convenient for the average shower taker.  All I require in the mornings or evenings for that matter, is the right to shampoo without the help of ridiculously large plants that tend to get caught in your hair when dangling from the ceiling.  And I sincerely hope, for the sake of my poor hair, that my grandmother removes it before tomorrow morning.

As for matters of  more pleasant nature, The oh so amazing wizard rock band The Remus Lupins,  are playing today in San Francisco,   and after three attempts to see them over the last two years, i'm finally going to see them. WOOT!  

Check The Remus Lupins out at their myspace :     http://www.myspace.com/theremuslupins

Or check out this cool music video of the song 'Snape' covered by the Moaning Myrtles, with Guitar by The Remus Lupins. <object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dbQqfFimJrs&hl=en"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dbQqfFimJrs&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>

At my Grandmothers house, and feeling a tad bit isolated. I don' drive, and considering that town is roughly ten miles away, I didn't bring my bike, the cell reception sucks, and I'm so unbelieveably lucky to have wireless. I'll be honest when I say that I don't need internet or cell reception, but it is reassuring to have said ways of connecting to people.  Ah well, could be much worse.

I've come to two conclusions this morning, as strange as it may be considering I haven't had any coffee or caffinated tea.

1) My mother is a saint. The poor woman for whatever reason put her under my desk this morning and pulled it out with a mouse trap attached to her toes. Any woman who willingly puts their foot under my desk must be resigned to saint-hood.

2)The lack of floride in our local water supply has mutated my siblings into monkey-like beasts. Although, it is possible that i'm seeing things without my glasses, and that said children are in fact simply acting their age: eight and ten. God only knows.

At least I get the MacBook this weekend!

How do you know your becoming an emo librarian?

-you spend all your time with books
-you carefully dress in one color, and one color only: black
-you increasingly talk to yourself more and more
-your obsession with vampires now has you so paranoid you carry garlic in your pocket
-you've applied only to bookstores, and libraries
-people who enter your house/ apartment can't see the floor due to all the novels laying around
-you prefer books to people
-you research strange topics that no one knows about, cares to know about, or has know/cared about in more than a century.

So, it's official. I'm an emo librarian. All I need now is a new stick of eyeliner and i'm set.

I am deffinetly a comment-maker. I have more to say about anything other than myself. Basically I like to keep the focus on something positive.

This afternoon while making dinner with several friends, I received a most unexpected call from my one of my teachers up at the high school where I attend. I was not shocked by the fact that she had contacted me during summer, but simply by the fact that she wanted to thank me in person for the gift I had given her at the end of the year. I suppose I was really touched by her gesture simply because I am not only very close to her, but because of her appreciation of something that I picked out with considerable care.

Having said this, I think  that all of us as individuals should thank those around us if possible. We may not know how, when or whom we will loose, but we can always be sure of who we will gain.

Much love and thanks to that fantastic French teacher, wherever she is. Je t'aime....although I'm sure she knows it already. Some family is simply more to do with the spirit and less to do with blood.

-Liz (Therese)