Update on Life

Turns out I may not be going to Kentucky for my internship. =( There is a farm in MD that may suit my needs...
Which is cool, but at the same time sort of disappointing.
On more happy things...I'm graduating in the spring.
Whee.
Don't I feel all grown-up and stuff.

I was looking at my grandmom's Christmas decorations today. Playing with them, actually. I picked up two ceramic dolls she'd had for ages and ages. They had the cutest little hats and dresses and tiny ceramic instruments. I turned one over and found a piece of paper stuck in the hole on the bottom of her foot. The note turned out to be a 'secret message' from my mom; written when she was seven years old. I decided to stick another secret message in the second doll's foot, just for fun. I turned the second doll over and found another piece of paper already stuffed inside. I had written it when I was about seven years old. I wrote another note on the back of my paper and poked it back inside the doll. The dolls were returned to the window ledge to wait for another inquisitive little girl.
That was fun.

And Cue: Polite Smile.

The room recedes. The voices fade into the background and I'm alone. My vision pans over the horizon, and I smile at the familiarity of the scene. I pull my knees up under my chin and breathe contentment. My toe wiggles in the dirt. The rough grains of the soil grind into my heels as I stretch as far as my skin will allow. The sun smiles on my back and I roll onto my stomach to examine an intricate ant mound.

The rocks around me are enormous. I've been coming to this place for a long time, and each visit I'm greeted with different colors, different weather, different animals. The wind howls sometimes, the wind and the slashing rain. Once snow swirled around the rock tips. I sat and watched the flakes melt as they landed on the stone. Lightning comes too, the slash of angry heat slicing the gnarled trees apart. But today the sun shines.

I watch a bird soar on a thermal. In this place, I'm completely content to remain on the ground. I take a leaf into my hand and bring it close to my face. The veins come into focus. I smile at the colors vibrating from the piece of plant. It falls from my hand and flutters into the canyon. I watch it until it fades from view over the edge.

I walk to the tree that grows over the rim. The bark is rough and catches my skin. Patterns are grooved into the trunk from years of rough weather and brilliant sunlight. A single branch hangs out over the drop. I reach up and swing out onto it, my legs pedaling briefly in the air.

A caterpillar crawls along a stem in front of my perch. I watch it as it rears to take another step, than drops off the stem. My hand flashes out to catch it, and I almost fall off too. But we are both safe, and I release the furry creature onto the branch. I run my fingers along his back and he arches up to walk on my hand. The fur tickles my palm.

I lean my head back to meet the tree. The sun has warmed the wood, and my eyelids start to close. My fingers grasp the branch to keep from falling. I hear a bird's call. It sounds strangely close, and I open my eyes. Its wings make loud slapping noises as the animal flies away with the caterpillar held firmly in his beak.

I heave a sigh and swing my legs out to meet the dirt. Instead of making contact with the soil, my feet hit hard linoleum. Voices advance into my brain again, and the bright artifical lights assault my eyes. I smile and nod sympathetically with the wizened lady still talking about her recently removed hernia.

It seems my happy place has nothing on modern surgical technology.

Wish List.

Dear Santa,

If I may be so bold, the VRSCDX Night Rod Special.

An artistic work produced by Harley Davidson.

A wonder to behold.

Love,
Bethany

Ah, Christmas

Four words:
Chris Botti.
James Taylor.

Smooth, jazzy, and just right for cozy fires and snowstorms.
Not that there are snowstorms.
Ah, global warming.
Which brings us to the topic of animal violence.
It's terrible, I think. Animals are maiming and killing beloved trainers and owners.
Why can't they just act like normal, calm, domesticated human beings?
Fo' real.

Unabashed advertising:
http://music.aol.com/songs/new_releases_full_cds/holiday_music?defaultTab=2

Spiders.

(Warning...extremely gross picture ahead...)

I think I'm being bitten by spiders in my apartment.
I'll probably die, eventually.
But it'll be sort of slow.
I'd look like this, to start with one appendage:



I really just wanted to post that picture.
For everyone who will lay in bed tonight feeling strange tingles on their appendages, this is for you.

How disgusting.

Experiment @ Heated Temperatures

It was discovered in a recent experiment that it's pretty much impossible to cook a coffeepot of noodles through a normal cycle of the coffeemaker.
Since slimy, but slightly warmed; crunchy, and sort of smelly egg noodles do not appeal to me, I stuck them in the microwave.
Of course, I didn't put enough water back in and the tops became crackly instead of crunchy, but it was in the name of discovery.

Discovery: Coffeepot noodles are not appetizing.
Edible, but not appetizing.

Next up: Oatmeal.

Source of Profound Amusement: http://www.davebarry.com/

Tread Carefully

Hormones make a woman a fascinating creature. Euphorically happy one moment, she's floating on clouds and twirling in her happy garden. Twenty minutes later, life is terrible- chocolate, old movies, and a shopping trip are the only possible remedies that could even be thought of.
Consolations bring on a biting bout of sarcasm. Best to let her win.
A massage? Possibly. Keep your mouth shut though, any misplaced word could initiate a tearful breakdown.
A mocha, a flower, and a shoulder to yell at would be best.

Word of the Day:
http://www.m-w.com/dictionary/mercurial