It feels SO GOOD not having to post that hideous 22b422 logo, oh man. That was one joke that got more than enough stage time. To help my eyes heal from the Wordart, I’ve been playing around with some versions of this week’s SUMO poster. For Drive. The movie that I’m in love with. NBD (but actually..).
In honor of Friday the 13th, I thought I’d share some advice for those of you who want to stay safe on this and future Unlucky Days. Here are the places I’ve found four-leaf clovers in SE Minnesota.
– Camp Philippo Boy Scout Reservation: I found my first four-leaf clover here over the summer of 2001 at a girl’s camp. This discovery was basically the root of my friendship with Katie Fleming (HEY KATIE!).
– Essex Park (Rochester, MN): Over the summer of 2003, Francisco and I spent an entire afternoon looking for four-leaf clovers on the grassy area between the volleyball court and the horseshoe things. We found a total of twelve four-leaf clovers (Francisco found most of them but I convinced him that I deserved to keep at least 6 of them since I was older) (I’m not a good person). We went home and taped them up and kept them in an envelope that I promptly lost.
– In front of the Aroma Pie Shop in Whalan, MN on the Root River bike trail: I found one four-leaf clover in the summer of 2007, taped it up (I came prepared!) then used it as a bookmark for 100 Years of Solitude. That sounds so snobby, but it felt really enchanting at the time.
– Behind the John Marshall Parking Lot (Rochester, MN): This was a special find because I saw the four-leaf clover without looking for it. I saw this one during September of 2007, and gave it to the person who’d been sitting next to me.
– Next to the Carleton community garden (Northfield, MN): The best part of ARTS Junior Seminar was when I found 2 four-leaf clovers during one of our outdoor class discussions in spring term of 2011. I kept these in my wallet, they’re currently sandwiched behind my learner’s permit and an old student ID.
Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión, quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las “íes” a un remolino de emociones, justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos, sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.
Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo, quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño, quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.
Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee, quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en si mismo. Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar. Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte de la lluvia incesante. Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce ono respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.
Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar. Solamente la ardiente paciencia hará que conquistemos
He or she who shuns passion, who prefers black on white, dotting ones “it’s” rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer, that turn a yawn into a smile, that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly.
He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy, who is unhappy at work, who does not risk certainty for uncertainty, to thus follow a dream, those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly.
He who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly.
He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem, who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops, dies slowly.
He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know, he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing. Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
The past week has seen a lot of losses. You might want to find a Kleenex box and scroll to the bottom of the post to refer to my handy list of Top Ten Goodbye Songs before continuing. You could also just pop in a NOW! cd, because most songs I put on the list have been on those compilations .. no surprise there.
1. Goodbye, crappy white Macbook.
After 3.5 years of constant use/abuse, you might think that this computer is totally unusable. That’s sort of true, because it was totally unusable until 2 days ago, when it was given a new hard drive, new battery, and sent to Mexico.
I’d been waiting 7 LONG MONTHS for there to be enough sun that I needed to wear these. Two weeks into that long-awaited springtime, I found away to drop, step on, and break the sunglasses all in half a second. That makes these the fourth pair of glasses I’ve stepped on in the past year. Owning glasses = constant heartbreak.
I was watching my daily dose of Grey’s Anatomy, the world’s trashiest medical tele-drama, when I couldn’t help but feel like one of the guest characters seemed awfully familiar. In the episode, Heather Douglas is a 17-year old girl whose spine is permanently bent at 90 degrees. Only someone as ruggedly handsome and surgically capable as Dr. McDreamy can take on such a risky surgery and fix Heather’s life. But can he straighten her spine without paralyzing her? And how will Heather’s mom afford the $300,000 surgery? And even if she makes it through the surgery, will Heather ever have the courage to get a better haircut?
Ann!! How could I forget Ann?!!
Seriously. SERIOUSLY. Ann/Egg = Katara. I don’t know how many of you have watched Avatar, but you should know that it is possibly Nickelodeon’s greatest contribution to the world. And even though Aang is the Avatar and all, everyone knows that the real hero of the show is Katara. I mean she can water-bend people’s blood to control their bodies. Katara is serious business.
BUT WAIT. Stop everything. Who’s the dark-haired girl next to Grace/Egg/Katara?? Why isn’t George Michael in between them, biting his fingernails and stammering? What’s going on?
Life can be tough sometimes, you know? And when life gets tough, you find out who your real friends are. When the world has got me down and nobody understands my secret pain, there is one thing I always know I can turn to. Its name is Yahoo Answers.